Chapter 7
J ax
I glanced at my wrist, where my watch had a quick readout of the data stream from Louisa’s perineal sensor, which a micro-drone had installed between her thighs the previous week.
The Selecta technology could measure arousal in real time, and Little Lulu’s readings had, as I had suspected, gone off the charts.
Her pussy was practically drowning in its own juices, her muscles already spasming with pre-orgasmic contractions.
The data only confirmed what I could see with my own eyes: beneath her fear and humiliation, this bad girl was experiencing a sexual excitement more intense than any she had ever felt before.
Louisa had already responded beautifully to the forced ageplay—better even than I had anticipated.
The childish name, the diaper, the collar, the humiliation of being bathed like a little girl, then shaved to make her pussy match her new status—all of it had started to break down her resistance more effectively than simple pain or fear ever could.
Selecta’s Bad Girls Program had been specific in its recommendations for subjects like Louisa Bell.
The psychological profile they’d compiled was impressively thorough: intelligent, defiant, craving structure, but fighting against it.
She needed one primary authority figure to establish dominance—I would play that role—but the program data showed conclusively that young women like Louisa needed to be used by multiple daddies to fully internalize their new lives as reformed bad girls, able to access their remarkable strength of will for constructive purposes.
That would work perfectly with my operational needs.
I had spent months infiltrating the network that extended beyond Charlie and Walker, but I needed access to the higher echelons.
The men at the top—men like Viktor Volkov and Oscar Reyes—were notoriously cautious, but they were also notorious for their appetites.
A party favor like Little Lulu, properly trained and prepared for the operation I had in mind, would give me access to their networks that I could leverage into a clearing out of a lot of bad actors—including them.
They would enjoy fucking her, but if I trained Louisa well, it would cost them their freedom, as well as returning some order to the city’s darker streets.
I brought the belt down hard across Louisa’s upturned bottom without warning. The leather made a satisfying crack against her flesh, and she jerked forward with a startled scream.
“Bad girls get the belt,” I said calmly, bringing it down again with equal force.
The Bad Girl Program gave explicit instructions about this phase of training: no counting strokes, no predetermined number of lashes.
Just a stern daddy whipping his naughty little girl until her resistance crumbled completely.
The belt had to continue until she moved beyond screaming into genuine, helpless sobbing.
I established a steady rhythm, alternating cheeks, occasionally landing a stroke across the sensitive crease where bottom met thigh. Each lash left a vivid red stripe across her pale skin. Her cries grew more frantic, her body writhing as she tried to escape the relentless punishment.
“Please, Daddy! I’ll be good!” she sobbed, her hands clutching desperately at the bedsheets.
I ignored her pleas, continuing the methodical whipping.
The assessors who designed the program made it clear that begging should not interrupt the punishment—Louisa’s pleas merely represented a stage in the breaking process, not an indication that she had reached the necessary submissive frame of mind.
The time had definitely come, however, to help Louisa take a major step forward in how she thought about herself and her choices so far.
“Your bottom is getting very red,” I observed, pausing briefly to run my hand over the heated flesh.
“But I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet.
In fact, I want you to understand that this first belt whipping isn’t just a lesson for your language and for wetting your diaper—it’s to punish you for all the stupid, harmful things you’ve done since you decided to become a criminal. ”
Louisa
I flinched at his words, startled by how accurately he had nailed my inner thoughts.
Every stroke of the belt seemed to make clearer that the fiery pain in my backside didn’t come from my saying fuck , let alone from the unfair thing about wetting my diaper when I didn’t have any choice.
No, it really felt like this horrible whipping was about all the terrible decisions that had led me here.
Dropping out of college, selling drugs for Charlie, the fake IDs I’d helped create, the lies I’d told my parents about where their money was going.
“What?” I gasped, the words shocking me into momentary stillness.
The belt cracked down again, twice in rapid succession, catching the tender underside of my bottom. I howled in agony, my cheeks clenching and unclenching in a desperate attempt to soothe the pain.
“Use this punishment,” Jax said, his voice unnervingly calm as he continued to whip me, “to think about all the things you’ve done wrong.”
The leather bit into my flesh again and again.
To my amazement, I found myself actually doing what he suggested.
With each burning stroke, I thought about another bad decision, another step on the path that had led me to this moment—lying naked over the pillows on the bed of a man who made me call him Daddy , being punished like a naughty child.
The drugs I’d sold to that freshman girl who’d ended up in the hospital.
Crack!
The money I’d stolen from my roommate’s purse.
Crack!
The professor I’d tried to seduce for a better grade.
Crack!
The parents who’d sacrificed everything for my education, who I’d abandoned without even a goodbye.
Crack!
Tears streamed down my face, but they weren’t just from the physical pain anymore. For the first time in months, I was facing the truth about what I’d become. I had been spiraling downward, making increasingly destructive choices, hurting everyone around me.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, the words bursting from somewhere deep inside me. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
“I know you are,” Jax said, pausing the belt. His hand came to rest on my burning bottom, the touch surprisingly gentle. “I know how guilty you must feel about how badly you’ve messed up your life.”
I nodded frantically, my face pressed into the bedding, shoulders shaking with sobs.
“It will take you a while to understand,” he continued, his voice softer now, “but part of being my good bad girl is learning how to move on from your mistakes.”
“H-how?” I hiccupped, genuinely wanting to know.
His hand stroked my hair, a gesture so tender it made me cry harder. “By accepting your punishment completely. By surrendering to your daddy. By letting go of who you thought you were and becoming who you’re meant to be.”
The belt resumed its work, but somehow the pain felt different now. Each stroke seemed to be burning away some part of my old self, leaving space for something new to emerge. I stopped fighting, stopped tensing, just let the punishment wash over me like a cleansing fire.
When Jax finally set the belt aside, I was limp and exhausted, my bottom burning like I had sat on glowing coals.
My arousal had seemed to go away as the whipping became so terribly painful, but the moment Jax put his hands on my hips and pulled me toward the foot of the bed, on my knees with my face in the covers, my pussy clenched and I felt myself getting wetter than I’d ever been in my life.
The pain in my bottom radiated outward, meeting the heat building between my legs in a confusing whirl of sensation.
I felt Jax spread my knees apart, then start to run the head of his massive cock up and down the shaved furrow of my pussy.
The smooth, hot pressure against my newly bare skin made me whimper into the bedding.
Without hair to buffer the sensation, every nerve ending seemed hypersensitive, especially where his thickness brushed against my swollen clit.
“I think your bottom is sore enough that you can be fucked,” Jax told me, his voice deep and commanding, “if you ask your daddy nicely.”
I struggled with the idea for a moment, suddenly finding my defiance again. Something about the whipping had changed me, broken down walls I didn’t even know I had, but some last shred of my old self rebelled against the idea of begging this man—my captor, my owner, my daddy—to fuck me.
“No,” I whispered, the word barely audible even to my own ears.
Jax’s hand came down hard on my freshly belted bottom, making me cry out as the pain flared anew. “What was that?” he asked, his tone quiet, but stern.
“I said no,” I repeated, louder this time, though my body betrayed me as his cock continued to slide between my wet folds. “I won’t beg you to?—”
Before I could finish, I felt his thumb press against my anus, circling the tight ring with insistent pressure. My whole body tensed at the unfamiliar sensation.
“I can tell you have a long way to go,” Jax said, pushing his thumb just inside the virgin ring, making me gasp.
“Because if you can’t ask politely for my cock in your pussy, you’re going to have an even harder time asking for it in your anus, as you will have to do soon, because Daddy intends to use every hole where his bad girl’s body can give him pleasure. ”
I whimpered at the helpless need his words stirred in me. The thought of him taking me there—in a place I’d never been touched—was terrifying and yet somehow thrilling in its absolute possession. To keep from thinking about him fucking my bottom, I gave in.
“Please,” I begged, my voice trembling. “Please fuck me.”
His thumb pressed deeper into my anus, making me squirm. “That’s not how good girls ask. Try again. And be specific about what you’re asking for.”
I swallowed hard, humiliation burning through me alongside desire. “Please fuck my… my pussy… Daddy,” I whimpered.
“No,” Jax said, rubbing the head of his penis up and down my soaking inner lips with maddening slowness. “Whose pussy is it, now?”
“Oh, god,” I moaned. “Oh… I… please…”
“Please what?”
“Please fuck your pussy, Daddy,” I whispered, my face burning with shame. “This pussy belongs to you now.”
Moaning with need, I buried my face in the bedcovers as the words left my mouth. The admission felt like crossing a threshold I could never return from, but the relief of surrender washed through me like a drug.
“Good girl,” Jax growled, positioning himself at my entrance. “Such a good little bad girl for Daddy.”
Jax thrust his massive cock inside me with one powerful stroke. I gasped at the sudden fullness, my body stretching to accommodate his size. He gripped my hips firmly with both hands, his fingers digging into my flesh as he started to fuck me with long, deep strokes.
“Look at that,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Look how pretty Daddy’s pussy looks with his cock inside it.”
I moaned into the mattress as he continued to pound into me, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through my body. The dual sensations of his hardness filling me and his hips slapping against my welted bottom created an overwhelming storm of pain and pleasure.
“This pussy was made for Daddy’s cock,” he continued, his pace increasing. “So wet and tight around me.”
He fucked hard, his lap pressing against my sore bottom with each thrust, as if he was still punishing me. The pain only heightened my pleasure, making each stroke more intense. I could feel myself approaching climax rapidly, the tension building to an unbearable peak.
“Remember, Little Lulu,” Jax said, his breathing becoming ragged, “you must ask permission to climax. Bad girls don’t get to come without Daddy’s permission.”
I was right on the edge, desperately trying to hold back the wave threatening to crash over me. “Please,” I sobbed, my voice breaking with need. “Please, Daddy, may I come? I need to come so badly. Please!”
His rhythm faltered for just a moment as he leaned down, his chest pressing against my back, his lips at my ear. “Come for Daddy now, Little Lulu. Show Daddy how much you love his cock.”
The permission was all I needed. My orgasm exploded through me with shocking force, my entire body convulsing as waves of pleasure radiated outward from my core.
I screamed into the bedding as Jax continued to thrust, riding out my climax before tensing above me with a deep groan.
I felt the hot pulse of his release as he came inside me, his hips jerking against my sensitized flesh.
We collapsed together onto the bed, his weight pressing me into the mattress. For several minutes, we lay there breathing heavily, his softening cock still buried inside me. When he finally rolled to the side, he pulled me with him, cradling me against his chest.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured, stroking my hair. “Daddy’s very pleased with you.”