Chapter 13

The next day I was so horny. I was back to my old tricks with a vengeance. I even swallowed my husband’s cum that morning after I jerked him off before putting him back in the cock cage. He looked so pathetic. I normally make him lap up his own orgasm from the ground.

I know what I said about an evil wolf and a good wolf living inside you and only feeding the good wolf. Sometimes the evil wolf makes a very convincing case to fuck your brains out and break the rules.

I snuck a dildo out of the house and sat on it all the way to my job. I listened to Lords of Acid “I want to sit on your face” on my Alexa app in the car. It always gets me hot and makes me think about wild, passionate, lustful sex.

My co-workers had a full day off from fucking me the previous day. They were ready to ride me when I got back to work. I had the first guy’s pants-down, around his ankles in the men’s bathroom before 9 A.M.

Most men love sex as much as I do – just not with their wives.

I know – I should have learned my lesson at the bookstore. Instead, I was fantasizing about a return to Gary’s adult book store to see if round two would be more interesting. My asshole still felt puffy and sore. I was still a little hoarse from all the cocks I swallowed – and yet it was a good hurt today.

I think that when I am receiving an intensely painful and humiliating punishment, I often feel remorse for my actions, and I am placed into a submissive mindset. The after-taste when I reflect on the experience can sometimes be enticing. I know that probably makes no sense.

Typical woman - I wanted it, and I didn’t want it at the same time.

I believed that I deserved punishment for what I had done at work. I believed that what I had done was wrong. Yet, a part of me enjoyed receiving the punishments and would do it all over again tomorrow.

I wasn’t going to lie to Randy about what I did at work. I wouldn’t brag and tell him everything, but I would be honest that I fucked my brains out this afternoon when I got home. I’d accept whatever punishment he offered me.

That afternoon when I got home from work, I undressed and locked my husband in the bedroom closet. Jasper tried to tell me about his day. I didn’t want to hear any of it. I thought about unlocking his dick and getting a little taste of cum before Randy came home, but Jasper is so much more compliant when he doesn’t get to orgasm very often.

I checked my phone and deleted the most obvious messages from men that might get me in trouble. I loved getting dick pics and naughty messages.

I left a few of the – little ones. That way Master might think I didn’t delete any messages. I stuffed my phone in my pussy. Master was still punishing me that way, and he liked watching me jump when I got a text message.
I stood out in the living room in my designated spot with my hands behind my head. I smiled thinking about Bryan and Sam visiting again. That would have been fun.

The girls told me how their day went at school. I didn’t really care. It sounded like they were getting better grades. I told them Randy would be happy and I was glad they were getting along with him.

“Is he going to be the one?” Myra asked me if Randy was going to be my permanent Master.

“I think so,” I admitted. “I appreciate you guys humoring his friends last night. That was unexpected,” I said.

“What other choice did we have?” Athena pointed out that Randy could make their lives living hell if he wanted.

“He isn’t an ogre and he has your best interest at heart,” I assured them. If Randy was going to do anything sexual with the girls, I figured he would have already. I trusted him around them – seeing them naked was not that big of a deal to me.

When Randy came home, he was in a foul mood for some reason. “How many today?” he cut right to the chase.

I was going to be coy. I had a smart-assed streak a mile wide, and I was not yet in a totally submissive mindset. I was still feeling like the alpha mom who had to make sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to at home.

I admitted to Randy that I fucked seven men and blew three. I probably fucked more than that, but I had not kept count. It was a rough estimate. Fucking ten guys at work was about average for me.

I was punished almost every weekday for the same infraction. The only difference was what punishment I would receive. The day Sam and Bryan came over was one of the few that I wasn’t punished for fucking men at work. Randy punished me for being rude to them, but it was pretty light, all things considered.

I don’t particularly love pain but it comes along with discipline. I gritted my teeth and prepared myself to receive it. I always felt a little like a judged prisoner being sentenced to the gallows at this point in the day.

The girls usually rolled their eyes when they heard about my excesses at work. Freddy usually ignored it and my husband was locked in the closet.

“Face to the floor, tits against the carpet, ass up in the air,” he said. I did as I was instructed and pushed my ass up and spread my legs wide to give him access to my body. I wasn’t going to lie about breaking the rules, and I wasn’t going to shy away from the punishment. I know it probably makes no sense – why break the rules at all? I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t think about anything else at work besides cock. I admitted that to him.

“You are a mouthy whore, I didn’t ask you that,” he told Myra to bring him my lipstick from the bathroom. She groaned and dutifully ran off and brought back her father’s lipstick instead. Master wrote “WH” on one butt cheek “RE” on the other one and circled my asshole with the letter O.

“What are you?”

“A whore, Master,” I admitted.

“A mouthy whore who runs her mouth,” Master saw that his heavy wooden paddle was in the living room. He asked me why it wasn’t in its place and I told him that I had to spank my husband.

“He should be the one spanking you,” Master picked up the paddle and laid a thick one on my ass.

“Yes, thank you, Master! One” I counted. I had to count, or he would start over. There was a fat chance my husband would discipline me.

“Do you want my husband to run things when you are absent, Master?” I leaned into the next powerful slice of my ass. This hurt and it rippled through my butt cheeks and made a terrible cracking sound. It was entirely justified though.

“No, I should put Myra and Athena in charge. They are far more responsible than either of you two cunts,” he laughed. My children have seen me receive spankings many times. Myra and Athena grin because they know that it’s going to be quite an ordeal, but in the end, I am going to keep making the same mistakes and breaking the same rules.

It was another of his empty threats – obviously.

Freddy hates seeing me get hurt. My nose was already running, and my mascara was starting to drip down my face. Master slammed strike after strike into my ass. He gave me fifty on the ass. Then he had me roll over onto my back and he gave me fifty on my tits – slapping the flat of the wood against my nipples.

He wrote “Mouthy” on one tit and “Whore” on the other.
“Why do you call her a whore?” Athena interrupted. The kids normally didn’t interrupt these very intense punishments. “She doesn’t charge money. If she did, we’d have a college fund,” she smirked.

“This is no time for joking, Athena. Unless you want a spanking, I’d be quiet,” Randy threatened. He often threatened a spanking to the girls, but he has never followed through on it.

I was breathing heavily. My lips were chapped and I was sweating and in pain. I knew that Master Randy was going to give me fifty more swats before he was finished. I spread my legs wide without being told so that he had ready access to my body.

“You want fifty more on that fat, worthless cunt of yours?” he asked. The pain was intense, and I didn’t want it – but I knew I deserved it.

He always gives me 150 swats when he punishes me like this in the living room. He alternated between my ass, tits, and cunt when he spanked me. I had simply anticipated the punishment. “Yes Master, I need it,” I felt I might as well lean into the punishment. I was going to get it anyway, whether I begged for mercy or not.

“Why do you need it? Why can’t you just be a good slut?” he asked as he hit me in the center of my slit with the edge of the paddle. My belly flinched, and I nearly cried. I hated this – he was wrecking my pussy, and I loved it too. I wanted him to punish my cunt.

“I am filthy, and I think about my needs all day at work, Master! OWWWW! TWO, thank you Master!” I counted. He drew a circle around my pussy with lipstick like it was an archery target. My family watched as the final fifty swats were delivered to my aching pussy. I could hear my juices sploshing. “I am a pathetic turd, Master! Please keep going, fourteen! Thank you!”

I know that I am a pain slut -the endorphins and adrenaline made my nipples stiffen and my pussy pulsate. The deep shame and humiliation was strangely erotic and yet also mortifying. I didn’t want to use my family as an audience to deepen my orgasm.

However, they were watching and it did.

I kept begging for Master to continue. It was very cathartic. “How many men did you let fuck you in the ass?”

“All seven Master, OH MY GOD, OH NO, FIFTEEN, thank you,” I squealed with pain - the most intense kind on one of my most intimate parts.

“You are supposed to keep that plug up your fat ass. What good is it if you grease it up and slide it out for anyone who wants to take you for a spin,” it was deeply humiliating to hear his words – but they were on point and totally true. I wasn’t supposed to give up my ass to just anyone.

He left me a blubbering mess on the carpet under my couch. My cooze was dripping, and my tits were hard. I was red all over, and the veins in my neck had popped out. Master would either shove a broom handle up my ass about eight inches or slather me with Ben-gay around the cunt and ass. Either way, I’d have to stay like that for about an hour.

The worst part is that Freddy usually came out and tried to comfort me. It was sweet of him but annoying and humiliating. I couldn’t tell him to go away. I would feel like an even bigger bitch. There was a reason that Master did this punishment in the living room. He wanted me to admit to my family that I was a dumb whore and I just had. I just wanted to writhe around and stop the pain from throbbing.

“Myra, bring the Ben-Gay for your mother,” he instructed. I would have rather had the broom up my ass. The Ben-Gay is Icy-Hot. It is more hot than icy if you ask me. It causes a tingling sensation all around my asshole and pussy, and it causes me to spasm and have little mini-orgasms on the floor. I pretend that’s not what is happening, but the girls know. It’s pretty obvious.

Master applied the gooey cream generously – he knows it scares me. I started to shake in anticipation as soon as it was applied to my lady parts. It doesn’t sting much on the outside of the body, but on the inner rim of my asshole and in my cunt it drives me crazy. I am helpless no matter how much I buck or gyrate to do anything about the discomfort.

He slathered me up and left me to sizzle like bacon on the carpet. He tied my wrists and ankles so that I had to remain face down and ass up. My tits had carpet burn, and I was feeling all the endorphins start to kick in from the paddling.

Randy permitted Jasper to take my butt plug out and left me with my puckered bare-asshole in the living room. I felt even more naked without the plug. Jasper went about making dinner for the family, and the girls went about whatever it is they do most of the time. Master Randy spit on my raw, swollen asshole and went into the bedroom to sulk. I knew he was genuinely disappointed in me.

I had promised him that I needed discipline. I never promised him that I would be well behaved and not need discipline. I felt like he may be having second thoughts about staying around. That suited me just fine because I was having second thoughts about the final phase of commitment when I signed over the cars and the bank. He’d probably expect me to sign over the house and power of attorney on the kids as well.

Freddy sat down on the couch and looked down on me. He saw that I was crying and sniveling.

“Don’t cry, Mom,” my sweet boy said. I know he was trying to comfort me.

“Crying is natural, it’s like those excretions that came out of my slit this morning. It’s nature’s way of making the pain go away,” I explained to him.

“Why do you get punished like this every day?” Freddy asked. He liked to ask a lot of questions just like his father. They were often things I thought should be obvious.

“I am a rotten slut who breaks the rules, Freddy. When you break the rules, you have to be punished,” I said.

“Yeah, when my sisters stay out late or do something naughty, they don’t get paddled like you,” Freddy observed.

“The punishment has to fit the crime. I can absorb a lot of pain, so if all Master did was make me stand in the corner, it wouldn’t do anything to me. He is punishing me for my own good because I deserve it,” I explained. It was good that Freddy was asking me about this.

Even when I stood in the corner, it was an ordeal in humiliation. I had to dance and gyrate my hips while practicing Kegels and puckering my asshole.

“Why not just be good?” Freddy asked naively.

It was such a simple question and one I had no ready answer for. I wanted to tell him what his grandmother told me about the two wolves that live inside you. However, I thought he might just take away that my wicked wolf was far stronger than my good wolf. I didn’t want him to justify making that same mistake because I did.

“Why not just be good?” It was a question I had been asking myself and still didn’t have an answer to. I told him that I didn’t know.

I was wiggling like a worm on the carpet by then. The Ben-gay had activated, and it was causing me to have micro-orgasms. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to my son right then.