The marriage counseling was my idea.  After all that has happened, you would think nothing could humiliate me anymore, but the opposite is true.  Everything about my former life is humiliating, but the most embarrassing thing of all is the knowledge that I brought it all on myself.

 

I knew that my husband Gerry was extremely unhappy and was considering divorce, During my regular snooping of his computer history, I saw he had been browsing divorce attorneys in addition to his regular habit of disgusting porn sites.   This scared me, not because I was in love with Spineless Gerry, but because a divorce now would throw off the timing of my whole master plan.  I wan planning on leaving him, but I just needed another six months to sneak enough money into my off-shore accounts so I would be set for life. 

 

Before Gerry and I married, 10 years ago now, his wealthy parents insisted on a nasty pre-nup.  They smelled gold digger the minute they saw me, but I am much smarter than they gave me credit for.  I just smiled, signed, and bided my time.  After his parents died, I demanded that Gerry The Wimp appoint me CEO of his family's financial management firm, and I used my position to quietly siphon off profits and direct them to my personal accounts, where I invested them in various illegal, but highly profitable projects.  Now, I needed just 6 months to complete my last big score, and then I was off to live forever in a beautiful Caribbean island with no extradition treaty.  Finally, bye-bye to Pathetic Gerry and his constant whining for weirdo sex stuff, as if I would ever put his cock in my mouth!  Gross!

 

But if Gerry filed for divorce too early, lawyers would scrutinize all the financials and my years of careful planning would be blown.  So, in an Oscar-worthy performance, I went to Gerry and begged him to try to marriage counseling. As always, the Loser bought my act hook, line, and sinker. He was always a total sucker for my looks, ever since we met back in college.  At 35, I knew I was still gorgeous; my long red hair, sparkling green eyes, and curvy hourglass figure still earned me lots of appreciation from admirers. I will admit that I have put on 10 to 15 pounds since my college days, but I still have large firm breasts, a full round ass, and a very small waistline.  I liked to wear clothing that showed off my body, especially around Gerry, even though I rarely let him touch me.  My plan would have worked perfectly, were it not for my one fatal miscalculation: Dr. Christopher Victor.

 

I had gotten Dr. Victor’s name from James, a junior associate at the firm, who always raved about how Dr. Victor had saved his marriage.  Before Dr. Victor, James’ wife was a chronic cheater, liar, and compulsive spender.  Denine always treated her husband like dirt.  Then James read Dr. Victor’s book, “The Power of Discipline”, and he says it changed his life.  James and Denine started marriage counseling with Dr. Victor, and in just a few months, Denine was a different person and James told me their marriage had never been stronger.  All Denine needed, James told me with a wink, was the Power of Discipline.

 

I never read the book, because I have always thought of myself as a very disciplined person. It takes a certain type of discipline to stay married for years to a man you despise while systematically ripping off his family’s fortune.   But I thought that a dose of that hokey self-help crap could be just what Gerry needed to prop him up temporarily while I set-up my end-game.  James told me that Dr. Victor believes every marriage can be saved if the spouses have the right attitude, and that was music to my ears.

 

Clearly, I didn’t do enough research.

 

When I called Dr. Victor and explained our case, he was immediately intrigued.  He told me that he wanted to meet with me alone first, then Gerry alone, then the two of us together.  In my first meeting with him, I wasn't sure he was right for the job.  He was an attractive and compelling older man, with a full head of silver hair and a powerful, athletic build.  He asked me a lot of stupid questions, and then made me ramble on about my childhood for awhile.  He seemed interested in the fact that I was raised by a single mother, with no male relatives or significant male authority figures throughout my childhood.  But he didn’t even seem to be listening when I told him all the things that were wrong with Pathetic Ass Gerry.  It was almost like he disapproved. 

 

But after he met with Gerry alone, I was much more hopeful that everything was going to plan.  Gerry came back from his meeting very positive about “saving our marriage”, and he had already started reading that silly self-help book.  I was so relieved that I graciously agreed to let him have sex with me for the first time in three months.  Of course, I drew the line when he asked if I would get on all fours like some sort of animal!  He often asked for disgusting things like that, vile sex acts he saw in Internet pornography.  I told him that he ought to be very grateful I was willing to lie down like a starfish and let him have his 10 minutes, and anything else was completely beneath my dignity.  That night, he stayed up very late reading Dr. Victor’s book.

 

The next day, I got a surprise call from our London office.  An important new client was requesting that I personally fly out to London to handle her account.  This was extremely unusual, but I was more than happy to accommodate just to get away from Filthy Minded Gerry, even if it did mean having to reschedule the couples counseling appointment.  I flew to London and ended up staying for more than three weeks.  My plan was to fly home on Friday morning and go straight to the office, then meet Gerry at Dr. Victor’s that afternoon for our first couples appointment.

 

I walked into Dr. Victor’s office 20 minutes late, but feeling on top of the world.  I had skillfully handled the situation in London, bitched out several young junior brokers to put them in their place, and added another $200K to my Cayman Islands accounts.  I felt like a powerful shark, but I kept reminding myself that I needed to play the part of conciliatory wife for the session in order to keep up the charade.

 

“Tamara, glad you were able to take a break from your busy work schedule to meet with us.”

 

“Anything, anything I can do to give our marriage a chance!” I cooed, and lovingly batted my eyelashes at Loser Boy.  For some reason, Gerry’s face looked carved from stone.

 

“Have a seat, Tamara”  He gestured at a strange little wooden chair in the middle of the room.  It looked almost like a chair you would see in a kindergarten classroom.  In addition to being humiliating, it looked very uncomfortable.  Gerry and the Doctor sat on plush leather armchairs, at least a foot higher than the midget school seat.

 

“Gerry, I’ll take your chair, you can sit there.”

 

“No, Tamara”  His voice was cold as ice.  What was going on here?

 

Dr. Victor said ”Tamara, you need to sit in that chair.  Now.”

 

“Why?  I don’t like that chair.  Gerry can sit there, I want to sit here!”

 

“See what I mean, Dr. Victor?  She’s impossible!”

 

“Yes, I certainly do see what you mean, but she is not impossible.”  Dr. Victor stood up and walked over to me.  He was five inches taller than me, even in my four inch heels, and he used his height to intimidating effect.   He coldly looked into me eyes and said “Tamara, you will listen to me now.  You are going to sit where you were told.  You are going to sit in your chair until you are told otherwise, and you will not complain, whine, or fidget the entire time.  Is that understood, Tamara?”

 

I was completely stunned!  Was this some kind of joke?  I looked into Dr. Victor’s eyes and saw only hard steel.  He was scary, but also… commanding.  I quickly decided it was in my best interest to play along.  “Yes, of course, sorry for the fuss.”  I sat gracefully in the weird pint-sized chair and lowered my eyes demurely, hoping to seem contrite.

 

“Doctor, that is amazing!” Gerry’s voice was filled with awe.

 

“Well, right now Tamara is just play acting, but if you follow through with the regression program I promise that soon enough you will start to see genuine change in her attitude and behavior.”

 

“What the hell?!?” I exclaimed  “What sort of sick game are you playing here?  This is what you call therapy?”  I wanted to jump up and storm out… but for some reason I felt I needed to stay seated.  I didn’t understand why.

 

Gerry turned to me, his face a mask of anger and hatred.  “Its over Tamara.  I know about the Cayman Island accounts.  I know about the embezzling, the money laundering, and the escape you were planning for this summer.  I know about it all, and it is all over." He threw me a nasty glance. "Don’t even try to deny it, you frigid bitch! I see the panic in your scheming eyes while you try to make up more lies! Don’t bother, I have boxes of documents, photographs, informants, everything I need to call the Justice Department and have you put away for a few decades.  You know that the feds are really cracking down on drug money laundering, and since I don’t intend to give you a dime for a decent attorney, I am sure you will enjoy a nice long stay in federal prison.  In fact, there is a guy in Justice that owes my family a favor, and I am sure I could get him to recommend the nastiest maximum security facility in the system.  Hope you enjoy your daily cavity search!"  He burst out laughing at the look of shock on horror frozen on my face.

 

 My mind was reeling; I just couldn’t process what I had been told.  All my years of careful planning, gone?  Me, in prison?  It was unthinkable!  I've always thought fast on my feet, but this was too much!  Somehow, someway, I had to salvage this situation... and distasteful as it may be, the only thing I could think of at that moment was to beg for mercy.  Artfully, I burst into tears.

 

"Oh Gerry, Gerry, I am sooo sorry!  I never meant to hurt you, my love!  I never meant to hurt anyone!  I did it all for you! Oh, please sweetheart, just let me explain, I can explain everything!"  My mind was whirring with possible excuses and strategies to manipulate Foolish Gerry.  I could see a trace of pity on his face as he looked at me; The Moron was always a sucker for my tears.  But Dr. Victor had to stick his nose in and ruin everything.

 

The Doctor spoke in a voice that was calm and even, but at the same time darkly menacing. He commanded, "Tamara, you will stop your phony crying at once.  You will turn off your false display of hysterics, and you will keep your filthy lying mouth quiet until your husband grants you permission to speak. And the next time you cry, your tears will be genuine.  Do you understand me young lady?"

 

My mouth hung open and my face flashed hot red.  I had never, ever been spoken to that way in all my life!  How dare he!  And yet... it was clear that I was in no position to protest.  I had to play their silly game for now, bide my time until I could see my next move.  I still wanted to beg forgiveness, but instead I just nodded my assent, and my tears dried on my cheeks.

 

Again, Gerry was impressed with the Doctor's nasty trick of controlling me.  "Wow, she really does respond to the Power of Discipline!"

 

"As I have been telling you, Gerry, my regression techniques are extremely effective in subjects like Tamara.  I will admit, she is one of the most difficult cases I have encountered, but I have no doubt in our ability to get through to her, if you are sure that is what you want."

 

Now they were talking about me (insulting me!) like I wasn’t even there!  I opened my mouth to protest, but no words would come out, just a little pathetic squeak. 

 

Gerry turned to glower down at me. "Frankly Tamara, I haven’t decided what to do with you yet. Part of me wants to turn you over to the FBI right now and just be done with you forever.  But another part of me is intrigued by the Doctor's theory that you could actually be rehabilitated into a decent human being.  He thinks that his program can turn even a nasty piece of work like you into an obedient, submissive wife who obeys and cherishes her husband and will do anything to please him.   His theory is that since you had no male authority in the home as a child, you never received appropriate discipline. That’s why you developed into such a spoiled, self-centered, amoral little whore. Doctor Victor believes that your only chance at redemption is if you will submit to his strict disciplinary methods.  Through his program, you could be trained to always show proper respect for your husband and to perform your womanly duties with an obedient spirit.  Personally, I have my doubts that anything could get through your thick skull.  However, the Doc has shown me some remarkable evidence, and I told him I would let him run an experiment with you."

 

I will admit that I wasn’t completely listening to Gerry as well as I should have. My mind was still reeling with the information that my master plan had been blown, and I was frantically trying to work out how to salvage the situation.  It sounded like I had some sort of opening with Gerry; he was going to make me jump through some hoops, but he would ultimately forgive me if I just pretended to be contrite and forced myself to be civil to him for awhile. He wanted a "submissive wife" to perform "womanly duties"? Ok, so maybe I'd have to do a few dishes, maybe even give in and give him one of those disgusting blow jobs he wanted.  Whatever, it was gross, but I could do it.  I didn’t crawl my way up from the mud farms of Alabama to end up in some dreary federal prison for twenty years! 

 

I'd let The Loser think he'd won, and then I'd come up with a new escape plan, and hide my tracks even better.  So when Gerry said "So Tamara, do you want a chance to submit to the Power of Discipline?  You may speak now," of course I said "Oh yes, Gerry, please!  I know I need discipline, I want to be a better wife to you Gerry, I'll do anything!"  And I looked up at him adoringly, making my big blue eyes as round and innocent as I could.  Gerry smiled.  It took everything I had to keep the revulsion from showing in my face.

 

But Dr. Victor said "Tamara, you are not nearly as good as an actress as you think you are.  You aren’t fooling me, not for a minute, and you aren’t fooling Gerry anymore either.  I know full well that you are only acting the part that you think will serve you.  And for now, that’s just fine.  Once you have had a taste of real discipline for the first time in your sad little life, I’m sure we will start to see a true change of heart.  But first we will need to see a more tangible show of obedience from you than just your pretty lies and your phony tears.

 

"If you really want to stay out of prison, you will need to submit to some non-negotiable conditions, right now.   First, you will submit to your first disciplinary session right here in my office.  Gerry will have the opportunity to punish you for your disgusting behavior, in whatever way he wishes.  If you remain completely obedient and compliant throughout your punishment session, you will be given the opportunity to beg Gerry's forgiveness.  He may still choose to hand you over to the FBI, that is up to him.  But if he generously agrees to give you another chance, you will be expected to submit to him totally.  You will sign a power of attorney that gives Gerry blanket permission to handle all of your financial and legal affairs, including complete access to your Cayman Islands accounts. You will surrender complete control of your life to him and agree to serve him and obey him without question, for the rest of your life.  Would you like that opportunity, or should I phone my contact at the FBI right now?"

 

This was the million dollar question.  Many many times since that day I have considered what I would have chosen if I had the slightest inkling of what was in store for me.  But of course, I had no clue.  I thought that for "punishment" Gerry would probably cut up my Nordstrom's card.  I thought that "obey without question" meant keeping my cosmetics on my side of the bathroom, and maybe letting him fuck me with the lights on.  Distasteful and disgusting, but far better than prison.  So I thought.

 

"Oh Dr. Victor, please, I promise, I will do anything for another chance to be a good wife to Gerry, anything!  I really want to learn discipline so I can be a better person.  Please, Dr. Victor... please Gerry... please give me a chance!"

 

The men looked at each other, then looked down their noses at me while I crouched in that stupid chair.  Then they burst into mean-spirited laughter.  I didn’t understand the joke, so I just looked at the floor.  Dr. Victor turned to Gerry and said, "An important component to my regression technique is Renaming. In order to teach your wife that her proper place is always subservient to you, you need to refer to each other in a way that reflects the nature of your new relationship.  Hmmm.... do you happen to know if she had a nickname as a child?"

 

"Well, when she was growing up she was called Tammi Jo, but she hates that name." Gerry chuckled meanly, " Reminds her too much of her Alabama trailer trash heritage."

 

"Perfect!" Dr. Victor was beaming.  He looked straight at me, deep in my eyes. "Listen to me, young lady.  From this moment forward, your name is Tammi Jo.  You will respond only to that name.  If anyone calls you by another name, you will say 'My name is Tammi Jo'.  Do you understand me, Tammi Jo?'

 

Tears of humiliation stung my eyes.  When I left Alabama, I swore that no one would ever call me Tammi Jo again.  Just hearing the name made me feel about twelve years old. I was still sitting in the stupid little chair, with Dr. Victor standing over me like an adult scolding a toddler. But I was out of options, no choice but to play along.  "Yes," I said glumly. 

 

Dr. Victor's voice got sharper and sterner.  "What is your name?"

 

"My name is Tammi Jo," I sniffed. My voice even sounded like a little girl.

 

"You will refer to me as Sir!" he bellowed. "Now again! Louder!" the doctor commanded.

 

"My name is Tammi Jo, Sir!"

 

"From this moment forward, you will always refer to your husband as Master.  You will refer to me, and any other adult male, as Sir.  Failure to do this will result in a serious punishment.  Do you understand, Tammi Jo?"

 

"Yes Sir.  I understand, Sir!  My name is Tammi Jo, Sir.  My husband is Master.  All other adult males are Sir.  I understand, Sir!"  I sounded pathetic.  I felt pathetic... but I also felt something else too, something I couldn’t yet identify.  I had to fight myself to keep from bursting into tears.

 

"Wow!"  Gerry was clearly impressed at my humiliation, gratified to see me so humbled.  "Maybe the little brat can learn her place after all!"

 

Dr. Victor continued, "Now, Tammi Jo, it is time for your punishment.  Do you remember that you agreed your Master should punish you, in anyway he desires?"

 

"Yes, Sir"

 

"And do you agree that you are a very bad girl who deserves to be punished?"

 

"Yes, Sir"

 

"Then say it!"

 

"I... I am a very bad girl that deserves to be punished!"  I think this was the moment it first dawned on me that they weren’t just going to cut up my Nordstrom’s card.

 

"You will crawl on your hands and knees over to your Master, kneel before him, and ask him very sweetly to punish you in anyway he sees fit."

 

 What else could I do?  I forced myself to crawl across the office and kneel and Gerry's feet, but I couldn’t keep a tiny hint of sarcasm out of my voice when I said "Gerry, I’m a bad girl, will you punish me please?"

 

 Gerry looked down at me with dark anger.  Then he slapped me hard across the face.

 

 For an instant, I couldn’t think at all.  In my whole life, no one had ever once put a hand to me. My face was burning, but it was nothing compared to my burning shame.  Tears, real tears this time, welled up in my eyes,

 

"Excellent Gerry!" crowed Dr. Victor.  "The girl must be trained to only speak respectfully to her Master!  How do you feel, Gerry?"

 

Gerry was grinning ear to ear.  "I feel like giving a hard punishment to a spoiled bitch-whore brat... if she can learn how to ask for it properly.  How about it, Tammi Jo?  Are you capable of learning a lesson, or are you too fucking stupid even for that?"

 

I felt hollow, stunned, completely lost.  I closed my eyes tight, and let all resistance drain away from me. I whispered "Please punish me, Master.  I have been a very bad girl and I deserve a punishment."  My voice cracked on the last word as the tears fell down my cheeks.

 

 He slapped me again, harder.  "Better bitch, better.  But not good enough!  Again, this time louder, and I want hear you really beg!"

 

"Yes Master! Please please punish your little bitch girl, Master! I've been a nasty bad girl and I need a hard punishment, Master!  Please Master, I beg you! Pretty please punish Tammi Jo, pretty please Master!"

 

Gerry looked at Dr. Victor in surprise, but no one was more shocked than me!  Did I really just say that?  Where did those words come from?  Something happened to me when I said those words, something I cant explain, even now.  I realized, to my great horror, that I was becoming aroused.  I could feel my nipples stiffening against my silky bra, feel my panties getting slippery! What the fuck was happening to me?

 

Dr Victor came over to us. "Good job, Gerry!  See, what did I tell you?  All the brat needs is some good old-fashioned discipline, long overdue in her case. You are now officially her Master.  Do you wish to punish her now?"

 

"Oh yeah, this little cunt is going to get what’s coming to her!"  With that, Gerry grabbed a large fistful of my hair and dragged me across the room to the chair Dr. Victor had been sitting in.  Tears ran freely down my cheeks as he bent me over the arm of the chair, so that my ass was in the air and my face was pushed down into the cushion.  He roughly forced up my skirt, then yanked my pantyhose and panties down.  Finally, I understood how I was going to be punished.  I screamed and sobbed, but did not resist.  I now understood that this had to happen.

 

Gerry bent down, his face inches away from mine.  "Listen up, Tammi Jo, you stupid piece of gutter trash!  I’m not even going to begin to punish now you for the money you stole, the lies you told, or the disrespect you have shown me all these years.  If you are very, very lucky, I may eventually punish you for those things... or I may just let you rot in prison... I haven’t decided yet.  But right here, right now, you are going to be punished for being 20 fucking minutes late to this appointment.  I am going to punish you by spanking your fat ass with a wooden paddle 20 times, one for each minute you kept us waiting and showed disrespect for our time.  It will hurt you very much, but you are going to lie there and take it, because you know damn well you deserve it.  Do you understand?"

 

"Yes Master!  I understand, Master!" I choked out between sobs.  I could not believe that I was truly bent over a chair, my bare ass exposed to two men, about to receive a spanking for the first time in my life.  Never had I felt so small and afraid... but at the same time, there was something that felt strangely "right" about the situation, and thats what bothered me most of all.

 

Then I saw the paddle that Dr. Victor was handing to Gerry.  It was a cruel looking thing, made of heavy oak, with holes drilled into it to increase the force of the swats.  Gerry played racquetball every day; he was the champion of our country club.  I knew the force of his swing.  The reality of the situation crashed in on me and I panicked.

 

"No!  Gerry!  Please don’t hit me!  You cant do this!  You cant do this!"  I thrashed wildly, desperate to get away.  Gerry grabbed my hair again, pushed my face down into the leather chair and smacked my upturned rear-end hard with the wicked paddle.  SMAAAAAACK! The pain shot through me and I went limp, sobbing furiously while my husband spanked me soundly in front of a near stranger.  SMACK!  WHACK! SMACK! WHACK! It hurt so bad! My ass was already on fire, but I knew my ordeal had only just begun.  I was crying like a little girl, like little Tammi Jo used to when she didn’t get her way. WHACK! SMAAAACK!

 

The panic rose up again and I started to struggle without meaning to.  Gerry just held tight and increased the force of his blows, slamming the heavy paddle into my butt so hard that it took my breath away.  WHHHAAACK!  CRAAAACK!  I wailed like a baby, but no one was going to give into my tears this time, and I knew it.  As scary as this was, it also somehow felt safe in a weird way. I could not understand that, anymore than I could understand why my pussy was getting wetter and wetter with each cruel stroke of my Master's paddle.  SMACK!  WHACK! SMACK! 

 

I could feel my cunt getting moist and hot, and I was mortified.  I prayed that Gerry and the Doctor wouldn’t notice.  WHACK CRACK SMACK SMACK!  The punishing hits came faster and faster, and I could hear Gerry laughing at me, delighted at my tears.  He had a taste for blood now, and I knew he wouldn’t be calling the FBI.  SMAAAACK SMACK SMAAACK!  I realized then that I truly did belong to him, he was my Master now.  I shuttered with horror as he kept beating my crimson behind at full force. WHAAACK! WHAAACK WHAACK!

 

After an eternity, the blows stopped, and all I could feel was the cool air of the room soothing my flaming hot bottom, reminding me that I was exposed and humiliated.  I could hear Gerry breathing hard, winded from the beating.  I was dimly aware of Dr. Victor congratulating Gerry for putting me in my proper place.  Gerry seemed very pleased with himself.  I stayed exactly as I was, my face pressed into the leather chair.  I wanted to die of shame.

 

 "Here Gerry, let me demonstrate something," Dr. Victor was saying.  "Check her twat for wetness."

 

"This frigid bitch never gets wet.  I have to use a pound of lube just to fuck her!" But he reached between my legs, and my shame was so acute I thought for a minute I actually would die.  "Holeee shit!  This little cunt is as wet as a swamp!  Look at this, Doc!  Her box is actually dripping!"  Dr. Victor stood near as Gerry spread my legs to show him the cunt juices dripping down my thighs.  In my mortification, I started sobbing again, but the men paid no attention.

 

"Gerry, this proves exactly what I have been telling you right along.   Deep down, Tammi Jo has always wanted a strong man to dominate her and keep her in line.  She craves to be controlled, forced to submit, even humiliated.  If you'll keep up her program, she will become your slave, your plaything, your willing fucktoy."

 

"Is that right? Well, we'll see about that.  Right now, I’m still not sure I want her... I just want her make her pay for all the crap she put me through with her frigid ice queen routine."  With that, he roughly shoved three fingers deep into my pussy, making me cry out in pain.  But even as I was crying, I was also grinding myself against those fingers, saturating them with my sopping wet cunt.  I couldn’t help myself; I felt truly depraved.

 

"Well, I certainly think you have a right to feel that way, Gerry.  I think it would for you to work out some of that aggression on Tammi Jo right now.  Would you like to start her oral training now?"

 

"Hmmm.... you know what.... finally getting to smack this little cunt around has put me in the mood."  Gerry laughed maliciously.  "But this bitch has always been such a lousy lay that it hardly seems worth it."

 

"That is why she needs to be trained, Gerry.  You see how well she responds to a forceful approach.  Remember that it is her function as a wife to pleasure you in any way you desire, but it is your job as her master to discipline her until she has learned correctly.  You have made an excellent start, Gerry, just keep using the same method and I think you will find she can be trained to be a competent cocksucker."

 

Gerry still seemed unconvinced, "Well, might as well give it a shot. Tammi Jo, on your knees, NOW!  Before I had time to react, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me off the chair so I hit the floor.  Then he dragged me up to my knees, my head level with his crotch.  He yanked my hair back so I was forced to look up into his eyes, which glittered with revenge.

 

"Tammi Jo, I am going to take out my huge cock now and I am going to shove it down your slutty throat.  I will make you gag and choke and cry, and you will love it, and beg for more because you are really a filthy whore."  With that, he unzipped his fly, and pulled out his rock-hard cock. 

 

I flinched when I saw it and I tried to turn my head away.  I was about to panic again, but Gerry gave me a firm slap in the face, and I calmed back down. He slapped me twice more for good measure, so my entire face was stinging. Then, he grabbed two fistfuls of hair on either side of my face.  "Open your slut-whore mouth, Tammi Jo, and beg me to shove my cock in it!"

 

Hearing those words, something inside of me broke wide open.

 

I cried out, "Master, please shove your big cock down my slut-girl throat!  Please make me choke on your cock, Master!  Please Master, teach me to please you!"  I opened my mouth as wide as I could and Master yanked my hair painfully, forcing his huge cock into my mouth and straight down my throat.  I gagged, panicked, cried, tried to flinch away again, but Master was relentless.  He fucked my face without any thought to my tears and muffled screams.  If I thrashed too much, he would pull out for a moment to slap me hard across the face, then he would start the skull fucking all over again.  I could barely breathe, and was seeing stars from oxygen deprivation... but I was truly trying to please him.  I was surprised to know this about myself, that I truly wanted to be the best little cocksucking whore I could for my Master.  At that moment, that was all that mattered to me.  I knew I deserved to be treated like this.

 

Finally, I got the hang of it, and I was able to take his cock several inches down my throat without gagging.  He started moaning softly, saying to me "That’s right, suck it you bitch! Oh, yeah, does it feel good to be used like the whore you really are?  You like having your face used as a fuck hole, don’t you? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself for liking this?" Master's breathing got faster and faster, he tightened his grip on my hair and sped up the face fuck, furiously slamming into my mouth until my lips were numb.  His moaning got louder and higher, "Oooooooh! Oh yeah bitch, I'm going to cum, I am going to cum all over your slutty face and use you as a cum rag... oh yeah, yeah, here it comes Tammi Jo, you little whore!"

 

Hot white semen splashed all over my face, soaking my eyelashes, splashing into my nostrils and dripping into my bruised mouth.  I had never tasted semen before, and I cringed from the bitter taste, but my Master said "Lick it up, whore!" and laughed as I obediently licked my lips.  He wiped some of the cum from my face onto his fingers, then shoved the fingers far down my throat as I gagged and sputtered.  It was more disgusting than anything I had ever imagined... and yet, I was submitting willingly... and my dripping wet pussy ached for attention. At that moment, I had completely forgotten about the money, the plan, and the devil's bargain I had made.  Tamara no longer existed.  I was Little Tammi Jo, fucktoy whore, serving my rightful Master.  My reddened ass still burned intensely from the hard paddling Master had given me, but this also felt correct somehow.  Thinking about it too hard just confused me, so instead I concentrated on sucking every job of cum from my Master's fingers, even as he laughed while I gagged and sputtered.

 

[to be continued]