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)
Ashley sobbed, the frustration of losing my tongue obvious in the piteous noise. With a moment’s alarm that Daddy Ned might punish me, I went back to the needy, swollen pussy, and licked and licked until I felt her inner lips flutter against my tongue, and my new friend’s cries, along with her bucking hips, told me that even if I couldn’t have my reward yet, at least Ashley had gotten one.
CHAPTER 22
Marianne
Watching a video with my daddies almost felt normal, even in my punishment panties. I practically forgot that everything was supposed to be discipline, for me, here at the firehouse. They even let me and Ashley pick the video, even though we had to choose from a list of three action movies. Giggling with her about the hunky star of the one about the ridiculous stunt drivers seemed like such a regular sort of thing that I hardly noticed that both of us had almost no clothes on, and the underwear our daddies had dressed us in was so embarrassing.
Ashley sat on Daddy Paul’s lap, and I sat on Daddy Jacob’s, at opposite ends of the couch. Daddy Ned and Daddy Phil sat in the comfy chairs. At the beginning of the video, when Daddy Jacob put one arm easily around my waist and his other hand casually between my thighs, I felt like I might burn up with horniness. By the end, when the scary parts happened, I found myself snuggling into his t-shirt without thinking at all about the rock-hard abs underneath it, let alone the massive penis that had made my bottom so sore.
All the need returned, though, when my daddies put me to bed after the movie. Ashley had started making breakfast for her and her daddies, and the smell of frying bacon this late in the evening confused my senses a little. It seemed somehow special and important to have an essential role at a place where firefighters must always remain on alert, twenty-four seven—even if that role were also so very shameful.
I looked up at them where they sat on the edges of my bed, Daddy Jacob on the side near the head and Daddy Phil at the foot. Both of my daddies had their upper bodies turned towards me, and it made their enormous arm and shoulder muscles seem to bulge very distractingly.
“Daddy…” I said, with my eyes on Daddy Jacob, and then I corrected myself, glancing at Daddy Phil, “I mean, Daddies…”
To my surprise, despite everything, I let out a little giggle.
“Yes, honey?” Daddy Jacob asked, his mouth curving up into a smile that distracted me even more than his muscles did.
“I’m… am I, I mean… and Ashley, I guess…”
Daddy Phil laughed. “What, Marianne?”
I felt a blush come into my face as I turned my eyes from one handsome daddy’s face to the other, not really sure what I wanted to ask, but sure that it was a vital question, whatever it was. I had curled up onto my side, and I squirmed a little on the bed, awakening the soreness in my backside and sending a jolt of needy warmth through my body. My clit tingled in my frustrating underwear, and my nipples stiffened.
“We’re, like… I don’t know, important to you… aren’t we?”
Daddy Jacob’s brows knit together as he considered. I thought I could see him trying to figure out the reason for my question. My cheeks got a little warmer, but so did the glow of impossible-to-resist affection in my chest. The rational, defiant part of me wanted to deny the truth that seemed so obvious: Daddy Jacob actually cared about me.
“Yes,” he said. “Very important.”
Daddy Phil said, “You bad girls definitely help keep our morale up. When Daddy Ned and Daddy Paul got Ashley, Daddy Jacob and I got so jealous, because we could see how much she helped them. Men like us need pussy—it’s as simple as that.”
I looked at him, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I felt my brow furrow with the arousal that his casual degradation always brought. I liked my blue-eyed daddy, and I felt a connection with him, too—just a different one from Daddy Jacob: maybe a connection that had more to do with… grown-up feelings. With a different kind of bad-girl need from the kind that Daddy Jacob seemed able to make my body quiver with.
“That’s true,” my brown-eyed daddy said, his voice a little more measured and thoughtful. “We like fucking you, Marianne.”
I bit my lip as the heat in my face grew to an inferno. My bear daddy’s words sounded so simple and so humiliating, and yet I thought I could hear something much, much deeper behind them, as if Daddy Jacob wanted to make sure I understood as plainly as possible that sex represented an essential part of the way he intended to relate to me—and to take care of me.