A nasty little dive bar

You don't really spend much time outside the retreat, it being a massive facility in the middle of rural California. But you recall passing up this bar once or twice on your way to and from the nearest airport.

It's the sort of place most likely populated by bikers and hunters; hicks with big bellies, small cocks, and bad attitudes - perfect for your little budding Berkeley feminist slut.

You don't say too much on the way there. Just load into your car and go. You tell her it's a surprise where you're taking her. Not that it matters. You're hours from the nearest city; from the nearest cock she'd want.

You pull up to the place; dilapidated, dirty, with a burnt-out neon sign in the window, and garbage bags just thrown up against the side of the building.

"This is it?" She asks, her mind clearly processing what's happening and what's about to happen. Her eyes slowly coming to an understanding of what it meant when you offered to help her tonight.

"There are cocks in there. Do you want cocks?" You ask plainly.

"Yes." She says with a deep breath.

And so the two of you walk in through the front door.

There aren't a whole lot of guys in there, maybe 8 or 9, well short of the promised 20. But it's a start, you think.

All eyes turn toward Meredith, though. And once they do, they can't stop looking.

"Well shit," One fat, bearded guy in a leather jacket and bandana says. "You looking for a nice chubby dick to suck?"

"Yes." Meredith answers with half-confidence, surprising the men with her forwardness.

"Well you better suck Mac's. God knows my dick ain't nice or chubby." The guys says thumbing behind him, as the other men erupt into laughter.

Meredith keeps her composure. She looks past him. And as she's peering into the darkness, a man steps forward. He's tall and lean, middle aged with streaks of gray hair. He wears a long black shirt and jeans with boots. He looks her up and down, again and then again. "Bitch, you want my cock?"

Meredith stares at him, slowly realizing that this is what her evening is going to be. "I want a cock." She answers, her voice quieter than before.

"Bitch that is not what I asked. My cock isn't just any cock. It's special, got it?" The man, Mac, grunts. "Now do you want it or not?"

Meredith glances over at you, as if you're going to give her the right answer. But you're sticking to your principle of not fucking the women from the retreat... at least for now. You brought her here to help, and to watch.

"Hey!" Mac shouts, reaches out and gives Meredith's cheek a little tap. "I ain't askin' him. I'm askin' you. "You want my cock or not?"

"Yes." Meredith answers with a breathy voice. The other men in the bar look on with great interest.

"Good. Now first thing you need to do, and lookin' at you this shouldn't be too hard, is admit that you're a **** fuck pig." Mac smiles. Meredith hesitates. So Mac takes a step closer to her. He's a big man. He towers over her. "I can see that you're a little piggy." He slaps her juicy thigh. "That's fine by me. But what I'm really lookin' to make sure is that you're a fuck pig ready for the nicest cock you're ever gonna' lay eyes on." He takes Meredith by the wrist and places her hand on his crotch, tracing it half way down his leg, clearly giving her a feel for what's to come.

Meredith glances over at you again, looking for a response.

And that sets Mac off. "Okay, dammit" he says. "Fine, let's ask him for his input." He glares at you. "What do you think this little pussy should do?