Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 66851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
They marched me into the regular door, where we entered a small office, with a desk and shelves and a computer.
“This is where you’ll work during the day,” Daddy Phil said, in a matter-of-fact tone. “Administrative stuff. They’ve got a training for you on the computer—you can start that tomorrow, when your daddies are doing our plant checks. Right now, though, it’s time to teach you about your more important duties.”
I felt my forehead crease, and I shuddered. Daddy Jacob kept marching me along, through the office and then through a door on its other side. I opened my mouth, about to ask the burning question at the top of my mind, then decided not to. I knew I didn’t want the answer.
We emerged into a comfortable living room, with a big screen TV, a long couch, and two big arm chairs. Daddy Jacob stopped our forward progress right next to the couch, then maneuvered me effortlessly into position behind it, facing the TV over the waist-high back.
He moved the arm around my shoulders, drawing his hand across my back, flattening it out so that I could feel his fingers and his palm push gently, right between my shoulder blades, ordering me without words to bend over the couch back. The question I didn’t want answered came spilling out of me, merely as a way to stall for time.
“What…” I started, looking over to Daddy Phil, who had come to stand in front of the couch, between it and the big TV. “What are my… duties?”
I succeeded in getting Daddy Jacob to stop pushing on my back, though his hand remained in the same place, his obvious intention delayed, maybe, but not in any way abandoned.
“Marianne, honey,” said Daddy Jacob, the slightest hint of annoyance creeping into his voice, so that I turned my head awkwardly to look at him, swallowing hard as I saw the sheer handsomeness of his bearded face, “we’re big and strong, but we’re not stupid—and we know you’re not, either. We know exactly what the doctor told you, and we know you can figure out exactly what your duties are, as our Sexual Relief Device.”
“But…” I said, my heart rate soaring again after the ordinary surroundings of the firehouse had calmed me down for a few moments.
“But Daddy,” Daddy Phil said, his eyebrows going up and his voice starting to sound severe. “It’s important that you learn to address us properly.”
I looked at him, then turned again to look at Daddy Jacob. I chewed on my lower lip for a moment, feeling my forehead crease hard.
“I… but… I don’t understand…” I started, my voice quavering as I did my best to evoke pity—the way I had made the Selecta executive I had tried to con feel pity for me. Then I noticed immediately how both of them assumed sterner expressions, rather than softer ones. “Daddy,” I tried, the word coming out, to my dismay, in a little sort of a voice I had never heard myself use before.
Their faces softened a bit. Immediately, though, I felt Daddy Jacob’s hand start to press against my back again.
“It doesn’t matter that you don’t understand everything yet, honey,” he said. “Your daddies will teach you.”
I swallowed hard as I felt just how easily he could bend me, literally, to his will, if he chose. At least he hadn’t chosen that—yet. I stayed upright, though I had to put my cuffed hands on the back of the couch to steady myself against the pressure from his huge hand.
“But…” I tried again, as I felt Daddy Jacob ease the pressure again, clearly in response to sensing from my body’s response that I didn’t intend to bend over willingly. “But I don’t even understand about… about the… the Daddy thing.”
“You don’t think you do, maybe,” Daddy Phil said. His tone had a patronizing note in it that made me look sharply at him, to see that same infuriating condescension in his eyes, and a mocking little smile on his lips.
I snapped. In the van, and then as these towering men had taken me and led me to the door of their firehouse, my rational brain had managed to keep me from doing anything stupid, but the look on “Daddy” Phil’s face overcame common sense in a flash.
I don’t understand! He’s wrong! the voice of protest and resistance yelled in my mind. I have no fucking idea what any of this is supposed to mean!
I tried to twist away, to my right, out from under “Daddy” Jacob’s gently pressing hand. I managed to turn and to scramble maybe a foot or two in that direction before his long arm simply gathered me in, pulling me back into a secure new grip around my waist.
“Marianne, honey,” his deep voice said, as he manhandled me back into place and bent me over the couch in an instant, like a blade of grass, “we know it’s going to be hard at first. Put your hands out in front of you.”