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)
Daddy Lawrence verged more on sadism in his tastes. He favored implements like canes and crops, leaving vivid red welts across my ass and thighs. The pain was intense, often bringing me to tears, but it was always followed by exquisite pleasure as he fucked me hard and fast.
Daddy Otto continued to be fascinated by anal play. He would spend long periods working me open with fingers and toys before finally claiming my ass with his massive cock. The stretch and burn were overwhelming at first, but I soon found myself craving the unique fullness only he could provide.
Through it all, thoughts of Daddy Daniel were never far from my mind. Even as the other daddies used my body in increasingly creative and degrading ways, I found myself comparing their touch to his, their voices to the low rumble of his commands. It was Daniel’s face I pictured when I closed my eyes, his approval I sought as I submitted to whatever depraved acts the others demanded of me.
One evening, after a particularly intense session with Daddy Victor that left me trembling and sore, I lay curled on my thin mattress in the cell. My body ached, covered in welts and bruises from the brutal whipping I’d endured. But it wasn’t just physical pain that consumed me—there was an emptiness in my chest, a longing I couldn’t quite define.
As I drifted off to sleep, I found myself wondering what Daddy Daniel was doing at that moment. Was he thinking of me too? Did he miss the way I felt wrapped around his cock, the sounds I made when he brought me to orgasm? Or was I just another bad girl to him, easily replaced by the next willing submissive that crossed his path?
The rational part of my brain knew it was foolish to develop feelings for any of the daddies, let alone one as powerful and unattainable as Daniel. This wasn’t a fairy tale—there would be no happily ever after where he swept me off my feet and made me his one and only. I was here to be used, to learn my place. To be rehabilitated. As insane as I had found the idea when I had arrived at the facility, I thought I could feel myself becoming a different person—or, really, a different version of myself.
A better version.
As the days passed, though, I found myself thinking more and more about Daddy Daniel. During sessions with other daddies my mind often drifted to the few memories of him I had. I wondered what he was doing, where he was, if he ever thought about me.
One afternoon, as Daddy Victor had me bent over a spanking bench, my ass raised high and my legs spread wide, a strange thought struck me. What if Daddy Daniel could see me right now? The idea sent an unexpected jolt of arousal through my core, making me clench around the thick dildo Daddy Victor had just pushed inside me.
“What’s this?” Daddy Victor chuckled, feeling my reaction. “Getting excited thinking about my cock, you little slut?”
I whimpered, unable to articulate the shameful fantasy forming in my mind. Daddy Victor’s hand came down hard on my already tender bottom, making me yelp.
“Answer me when I ask you a question,” he growled.
“I… I was thinking about Daddy Daniel,” I confessed, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Daddy Victor’s laugh was low and knowing. “Ah, I see. Wondering if he’d enjoy watching you take this big toy in your greedy cunt, are you?”
His words made me gasp, the image so vivid in my mind I could almost believe Daddy Daniel was right there in the room with us. I nodded, unable to deny it.
“Well, you naughty little slut,” Daddy Victor purred, his voice low and dangerous. “You might be interested to know that he very well could be watching right now.”
I gasped, my head whipping around to look at him over my shoulder. “W-what do you mean?” I stammered, my heart racing.
Daddy Victor smirked, his hand coming down to deliver another stinging slap to my upturned bottom. “Did you really think the Institute wouldn’t have cameras set up all over the place? In the cells, the showers, the punishment rooms… even here in the guesthouse?”
My mind reeled at this revelation. Cameras? Everywhere? That meant… oh, God. Every degrading act, every punishment, every shameful moment of pleasure—it had all been recorded. And not just recorded, but potentially watched in real time by… by who? The other daddies? The Institute staff?
Daddy Daniel?
The thought sent an unexpected jolt of arousal through my core, making me clench again around the dildo still buried inside me. Daddy Victor noticed, of course, and chuckled darkly.
“Oh, you like that idea, don’t you?” he teased, slowly rotating the toy inside me. “The thought of Daddy Daniel watching as I use your slutty little body… it turns you on, doesn’t it?”