A Sissy Girlie-Boy -- part 3

Ten weeks ago, Mommy made me start working at "Frank's Hideaway" as one of the bar girls.  Only, I'm not a girl.  I'm really a boy.  But I dress like a girl and the men who come to the bar like to have sex with me.  You see, there are a lot of men who get really turned on abusing and fucking Sissy Girlie-boys like me.

But I hate going to the bar and I hate being used as a Sissy whore by lots of strange men.  But Mommy makes me do it.  At first it was only on Saturday nights.  But now I have to work on Friday nights too.

Giving blow jobs is really disgusting.  And getting fucked in the ass really hurts.  But Mommy gets so angry whenever I complain.  I try to be brave when I'm at the bar.  But I usually cry in the car -- both on the way to the bar thinking about what I'm going to have to do when I get there -- and on the way home as I try to forget the awful things I had to do all night.

Even though it's really horrible, I've gotten very good at making men cum.  You see, I only have 25 minutes with each "date."  That's not much time and if the man doesn't cum, they get really angry and complain to Frank.  And when customers complain, Frank doesn't pay me -- I mean doesn't pay Mommy -- my share.   

But at first I wasn't good at pleasuring men.  I still remember my first night at the bar.  Mommy started getting me ready at about 3:00 in the afternoon.  Mommy bathed me and powdered me.  She fluffed up my hair and covered it with hairspray.  Then she did my make-up:  just some light foundation, eye liner and mascara, and pale lip gloss.  Then she handed me my new underwear:  a black strapless bra -- 34AA -- and an incredibly tight and uncomfortable pair of black panties.  Mommy hooked the bra behind my back and helped me squiggle into my confining panties.  "We can't have any unsightly bulges!"  Mommy chirped.  

And then she showed me the dress.  It was a tight strapless mini dress with black and grey and white stripes.  My bra made it look like I had tiny little breasts.  Mommy helped me into the dress and fussed until she was satisfied.  I felt practically naked and was very aware of the cool air on my exposed arms and shoulders.  She had me slip on a pair of shiny black high heels.  And then she let me look in the mirror.  "Mommy, oh no!" I shrieked when I saw my reflection.  "I can go out looking like this.  I look so, so, so..."

"Slutty?" Mommy unhelpfully finished my sentence.  "Yes, you're right.  You do look like a little slut!  OK, you win.  You don't have to wear this dress tonight.  You can wear it next week.  Here, put this one on."  Mommy said as she handed me another dress.