Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
My heart raced, a mixture of fear and unwanted arousal coursing through me. From Zoe’s cell, I could hear her muffled cries of pleasure and pain as Daddy Otto fucked her ass. The wet sounds of their coupling echoed in the corridor, making my cheeks burn with shame and my pussy clench with need.
“Tell me, Amy,” Daddy Daniel said, his breath hot against my ear. “What do you think you need right now?”
I bit my lip, trying to fight the words that threatened to spill from my mouth. But the ache in my womb, the burning of my paddled flesh, and the sounds of Zoe’s ambiguous pleasure all conspired against me.
“I… I need…” I whimpered, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Say it,” Daddy Daniel commanded, his hand sliding down to cup my ass cheek, squeezing the tender flesh.
Daddy Daniel’s hand slid lower, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. “Your paddling won’t stop until you beg for what you really need, Amy,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “I want to hear you ask for it like Zoe did. Beg me to fuck that tight little asshole of yours.”
My cheeks burned with shame, but the ache between my legs and the lingering sting of the paddle conspired against my pride. “Please,” I whimpered, the word escaping before I could stop it. “Please, Daddy. I… I need you to… to fuck my ass.”
A deep chuckle rumbled in Daddy Daniel’s chest. “Good girl,” he purred. “But I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple.” His skilled fingers danced along my slick folds, teasing but never quite giving me the pressure I craved. “You see, Miss Frieda told me about an old principle of the Bad Girl program. I think I’ll use it as a rule of thumb.”
I whimpered, pressing back against his hand, desperate for more contact. “Wh-what principle?” I managed to ask, my voice breathy and trembling.
Daddy Daniel’s fingers circled my clit with maddening lightness. “It’s quite simple, really,” he explained, his tone casual as if we were discussing the weather rather than my impending anal defloration. “But very meaningful for you and your fellow bad girls. You’d like to hear it, wouldn’t you?”
Daddy Daniel’s fingertips continued their teasing dance, bestowing feather-light touches on my clit that sent jolts of electricity through my body. I bit my lip hard, trying to stifle the moans threatening to escape. His other hand kneaded my tender, freshly paddled flesh, the sting reigniting with each squeeze.
“Come now, Amy,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “Don’t you want to know the principle that will govern your time here? The rule that will determine when and how you receive pleasure?”
I shook my head stubbornly, even as my hips betrayed me, rocking back against his skilled fingers. The cool concrete wall scraped against my sensitive nipples, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure assaulting my senses.
Daddy Daniel tsked softly, his fingers dipping lower to tease my entrance. “Such a stubborn little thing,” he mused. “But your body knows what it needs, even if your mind is still resisting.”
To my horror, I felt a fresh gush of wetness coat his probing fingers. The sounds of Zoe’s brutal ass-fucking from the nearby cell seemed to grow louder, her moans and whimpers a constant reminder of what awaited me.
“Please,” I whimpered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
“Please what, Amy?” Daddy Daniel prompted, his skilled fingers never ceasing their torturous exploration.
“Please tell me the principle,” I finally whispered, my voice cracking with desperation. The constant teasing of Daddy Daniel’s fingers had me trembling on the edge, my body betraying me with its eager response to his touch.
Daddy Daniel’s hand stilled, resting heavily on my hip. “Miss Frieda,” he called out, his voice echoing in the corridor. “Would you do us the honor of announcing the principle to these bad girls?”
I heard the sharp click of Miss Frieda’s heels as she approached. My cheeks burned, knowing she could see my exposed, quivering form pressed against the wall, Daddy Daniel’s hand still intimately placed between my legs.
“Certainly, Daddy Daniel,” Miss Frieda’s cool voice rang out. “Listen carefully, bad girls. This principle will govern your time here and determine how and when you receive pleasure.”
There was a moment of tense silence, broken only by the increasingly frantic sounds coming from Zoe’s cell. Then Miss Frieda spoke again, her voice clear and firm:
“Bad girls only get fucked with a very sore bottom.”
As if on cue, Zoe’s cries suddenly intensified. “Oh, God! Oh, fuck!” she wailed. The wet slapping sounds grew louder and faster, leaving no doubt that Daddy Otto had begun pounding her ass in earnest.
Before I could fully process Miss Frieda’s words or Zoe’s cries, I felt Daddy Daniel’s hand leave my hip, and I heard the whoosh of the paddle cutting through the air. It crashed into my bottom cheeks with a resounding crack that echoed off the concrete walls. White-hot pain exploded across my backside, stealing my breath and making my vision blur.