Curse him out (and get punished).

“Fuck you, you goddamn geek,” you swear at him, hand rising to give him a slap powered by years of cheerleading (and quite a few handjobs).

Johnny shoved you away by your tits, and despite your natural, and trained, grace, you tripped and fell backwards. The surge of arousal from his handling of your breasts, combined with the four inch heels you were wearing made staying up almost impossible. Even though the floor was carpeted, you briefly saw stars as you hit the ground and the breath was knocked out of you. “None of that,” Johnny said, as he stalked past you. “All you had to do was say that you wanted to be a whore, not a slut and I’ll see you after I post the video, and send it to the—Ah…”

He was cut off by your nimble hands pulling his sweats down and guiding his soft cock between your lips. It hardened swiftly as you used every minute of your experience (from the first time you’d blown your coach to the blowjob you’d given to get a discount on the shoes that had caused you to trip when he shoved you) to give him pleasure and keep him from walking out that door.

While he might have been a confident man, when all the cards were in his hands, he was still inexperienced and the sight of you, on your knees, fabulous tits swaying as your blonde head bobbed up and down on his cock got his blood moving.

You pulled back, expertly jacking him off, “I’m sorry,” you simper, “forgive me?”

There’s a long pause, though you can’t tell if it’s cause he’s too distracted by your appearance and actions, or because he’s thinking.

“Forgive me…master?” you asked.

At that, his cock twitched and the first stream of warm cum painted your face from your right eyebrow to chin. The next three ropes of jizz cover your face completely, as you kneel there, submissively accepting his seed on your face, as a sign of his mastery.