[MrCorruptor]

Some time passes as you slowly eat the pasty gruel in your dog bowl. While it looks unpleasant, it actually tastes of very little. There is a certain fishiness about it which affirms your belief that there is tuna involved, but you can’t work out what else is in the slurry. The thick ropes of cum spread across the bowl taste salty, and you feel the wetness between your legs grow further as you lap them up. You know you need to stomach the entire bowl of gruel anyway as it is likely the only thing you will get to eat for the rest of the night.

Your focus on your food is unwavering. You force yourself to keep your head down and keep eating so you don’t have to think about the people staring at your bare rear end. After a couple of minutes you feel a hand reach between your legs and spread your pussy, but you try to disregard it and slurp up another cloudy glob of semen. You reckon you have a few minutes until the slurry cools enough that the cum starts to entirely congeal. And, thinking about your food and my cum continues to distract you.

You do not know it, with your head hidden in your food under the table, but it is me who is spreading your cunt. The couple across the table are watching on but are, by now, somewhat disinterested. I am inspecting you to see how wet you are. I see that your pussy is soaked through and chuckle slightly. You do not hear me. I look across the floor at the slave with the pussy covered in Deep Heat. I wonder about asking her owners to borrow the tube to “perk you up”. I decide against it, however. I might want to fuck you later tonight and the possibility of getting any of that stuff on my cock is not an appealing prospect.

By the time I am finished pulling on your labia you have finished your gruel. You seem unimpressed, and I surmise that the food they were feeding you was not that appetising. I have also finished, although I have left a little bit of fat from the edge of the steak. I pause a moment and then tell you to sit up.

“Yes sir.” You comply immediately. You are slightly relieved to see that few people had stayed watching you for the duration. A couple of people also seemed to have left; the boy with the chastity cage is no longer sat nearby.

“Open, piggy” I command. You understand that you are to receive my scraps and open your mouth. Your cheeks flush once again as I scrape the fat into your mouth. Some of the remaining juices spray across your face, along with a thin strand of spinach.

“Messy girl." I run my finger across your face, pushing the juice and spinach into your mouth. “That should make you feel full”. The fat is cold by this point and unpleasant. You try to chew it but find the rubbery texture difficult to stomach. You screw up your face.

“Oh, is master’s food not good enough for you, pig?” I phrase this as a question but you know better than to answer honestly.

“No sir it is really nice; I am grateful for anything you give me” you reply. You hope that your transgression will be commented upon no further.

“What was that face for then, slut?” I ask. I pronounce the word slut in a clipped way which you recognise. You realise this is a prelude to something.

“Oh no please it was really yummy, I just…”

“Shut up, whore.” I stand. That word cuts through the room and your heart pounds. The couple across the floor hear me and turn to look. Even the female slave under them, whom is on the edge of tears, looks at me for a moment before returning to the deep burning in her cunt. You close your mouth and slump. You tell yourself that we will be on our way home soon, and hope that I will reserve any punishment for then. You blush slightly.

Having stood I wait a moment before walking across the room to the watching couple. I have a brief conversation with them which you can’t hear. Your mind starts racing and you start breathing faster. You worry that I am going to return with a tube of Deep Heat and cruel intentions. You try to work out if there is anything you can do to remedy this. You shift from one knee to the other while you kneel; your pussy is a wet oil slick. I return with a hand behind my back.

“Lay down here.” I indicate with one hand, the other still hidden behind my back. You dread the words that come next. “Spread.”

“No, please sir pleas…”

“Shut up pig. You will speak when you are spoken to. Now is the time for you to serve; not the time for your voice to be heard.” You glance to the side of me briefly as you slowly open your legs. All the occupied tables near us are looking at you. You can feel the gaze of several people, and a couple of slaves, looking hard at your cunt. As you spread a string of your juices stretches from one thigh to the other. You feel a wave of humiliation crash over you as you fully reveal your holes to the crowd.

“Now slut, if you don’t like my food maybe you will like this.” I reveal my hand from behind my back. You briefly feel relieved: it is not Deep Heat but a thick bread stick. However, that relief is short lived as you jump to the conclusion that you will be doing more than eating this. You know I am going to fuck you with this bread stick.

“On sir please no I…”

“Shut up” I reply, coldly. You know my mind is made up and know you must stay silent. You close your eyes and let your head roll onto its side. You hear me crouch near you.

“No. You do it.” I hand you the bread stick. You reach up with one hand and grasp the stick. It is about an inch in diameter and firmer than you expected. While freshly baked today, you suspect it would have made its way to the bin if I had not selected it as an implement to fuck you with.

“Now. Debase yourself – pig” I whisper and then stand up to watch. You reach under yourself and press the tip of the stick against your already parted labia. That you are particularly horny provides you all the lubricant you need as you feel the bread stick slide in. It is rough inside you and you can feel its crusted edges catching you as you push it deeper. You whimper as you hear a few of the spectators exchange comments:

“What a piggy slut. She is making such mess.”

“I should make my piece of shit sub eat it out of her sloppy cunt.”

“I wonder if her family are proud.”

You feel your cheeks burning as you hammer away at your hole. You know better than to go easy on yourself. The stick is starting to break down now as it soaks up your juices. You suspect that it is going to be a real mess to clean you up after, although you hope that means gentle aftercare.

“Keep going pig” I tell you as the bread starts to disintegrate in your hand. It is providing surprisingly little resistance against your g-spot and you feel limited pleasure. You reach with your other hand to begin rubbing your clit.

“No.” I kick away your hand and look at the bread soup that has started to collect just below your pussy. I tell you to stop.

“Yes sir” you reply and you slowly remove the remains of the bread stick. It lands with a slight plop on the floor. It has soaked up quite a lot of your juices, and you realise you must have been really very horny before you started. The floor is now a brown lumpy mess. Everyone in the room is watching you. You screw your eyes up at my next order.

“Eat it. Piggy." You don’t reply but pull yourself up. You reach inside your pussy and scrape out the remains of the bread. You long to be allowed to go to the shower rooms in the slaves’ robing quarters. When you think you have done the best you can to extract the mess you get back on your hands and knees and look at the bread soup you have created on the floor. It smells unpleasant.

You push your face into it and start by eating the larger lumps of bread. Your face flushes and you feel your heart rise into your mouth. You feel a little ashamed at how horny this is making you. I kick a couple of pieces that are out of reach towards your face and you quickly swallow them down. Some a still dry and you can taste a slight oat flavour to the bread. It is not unpleasant. You focus again on the flavour, not thinking of the people stood around you, some chuckling at the mess you have made of yourself.

The difficulty comes when you run out of solids. The remainder of the bread has blended with your juices to make a thin paste, and you are forced to lick it up. This is really disgusting, and you try to do it quickly and efficiently.

“Good piggy” I comment as you go. Your face is visibly reddened from the humiliation you feel, but you keep going. A spectator behind you notes that you are already producing more liquid from your now disgusting hole.

The task is unpleasant. You pick up the odd bit of lint or grit from the floor. Most of the people in the room are wearing shoes and you feel a little sick at the idea of what might be on the floor. But you soldier on. Eventually, you manage to clean the floor. You are panting by this stage and feel a deep yearning to both orgasm and run away.

“Good girl!” I kneel next to you and let your panting head rest against my knee. “You did good."

“I did sir?” you ask, looking up again at me with your deep brown eyes.

“Yes my dear. Come, let’s go and get you cleaned up." I gently help you to your feet and slowly lead you back to the slaves’ robing room. You look forward to a warm shower and getting the remaining bread out of your pussy. And, if you are lucky, maybe the opportunity to cum.

As we walk away the slave coated in Deep Heat audibly moans. You don’t hear her master’s harsh reply.

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Thank you for reading. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. Comments are welcome. Also, please excuse the slight suspension of belief using bread as a dildo. This is likely to lead to a yeast infection and I would choose a different implement were this scene to happen for real. However, I thought it worked well to bring the story to a climax.