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There wasn't much I could say to comfort them; previous attempts to chat up the barmaid while under the influence of alcohol had also been frowned on, but they had not learned their lesson.I have to admit that with my experience of working the other side of the bar, I also had very little sympathy for them; it was a difficult enough job working in a noisy and smoky atmosphere when each customer expected immediate and accurate service, without being abused as well.I was a little bit sad; my housemates were still immature little boys at heart, and they hadn't grown up at all since arriving at University. I had been lucky enough to meet Sian and her friends, and the experience of loving and being loved had done me the world of good; unfortunately it had widened the gap between me and my housemates, and we really had very little in common now. I went back to work in a disappointed and dissatisfied frame of mind.I had a chat to the landlord before we opened the pub for the evening session;. She was in a terrible state and it had only been two days since I turned the guards loose on her. If she had looked shocked before, she was almost catatonic now. They'd replaced her standard collar with a broad one that forced her head upwards. Her mouth was distended by the wire frame gag that held it open. Her eyes were staring unblinking from dark hollows in her face. I couldn't work out at first what she was wearing but finally realised it was the tattered remnants of the sweater and skirt that she had on when I'd last seen her, torn by the mistreatment that she had suffered over the last two days. Her tits were purple, and sore, the steel claws of the tit clamps, pinched into her nipples. Her hair was lank and greasy, sticky with I wasn't sure what; her face puffy from where her mouth had been used repeatedly. They'd strapped her wrists to the tops of her arms and her ankles to the tops of her thighs, leaving her breasts, arse and cunt available for any intrusion. From the.
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