It was all my hypocritical father’s fault. If I hadn’t caught Daddy fucking Mrs. Donna Paxtor, bent over his desk in his church office two weeks b...ck, I never would have had my sexual awakening. I never would have learned the joys of being a whore. And spending my last week, spring break, helping Daddy with an “outreach ministry”—well, that was the lie we told Mother—had given me a taste for sucking cocks, swallowing cum, and getting paid for it. Not that I charged much, only a dollar. So the. "Nah! It couldn't possibly be." What couldn't possibly be, Master?" I was furious with myself forcontinuing to call that bastard Master. Unfortunately, I couldn'tseem to prevent myself from doing it. I could think of him as GaryAnderson or simply Gary, but whenever I spoke to him I had to addresshim as Master. And the more I did that, the more normal and naturalit felt.Gary stared at me for a few moments. "The guys at work hadn't heardanything from you in over a week, Sam. Since I won the. More

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