Chapter 5
Pam
One finger slid inside me and I gasped at the intrusion. Not painful, but overwhelming—the vulnerability of it, the way I couldn’t stop him, couldn’t control what was happening to my body.
“Look how wet she is,” Daddy Ed said, almost conversationally, as if he were commenting on data rather than my most intimate responses.
His finger moved inside me with breathtaking skill, finding places that made my whole body shudder.
His voice went from a collegial tone, addressed to Daddy Bill, to a condescending one, addressed to me.
“The sensor’s been tracking your physiological responses since the doctor installed it, Seventy-One.
Every spike in heat and humidity, every attempt to suppress it—all recorded.
As you can probably imagine, it’s showing that your body is feeling more sexual arousal than it has since right after you got spanked at the justice facility. ”
I wanted to die. Wanted to sink through the leather bench and disappear. His finger moved inside me and I couldn’t stop the small sound that escaped my throat.
“We’re going to remove all this pubic hair very soon,” Ed commented, his free hand brushing through the trimmed hair between my legs.
“Bad girls in Project Dollhouse are kept completely bare. Puts you in touch with the immaturity that brought about your bad choices—as well as more vulnerable and less in control of your body. Helps reinforce what you’re learning about yourself. ”
“No,” I whimpered, but the word had no force behind it. Not with his finger still moving inside me, not with my body responding despite everything my mind was screaming.
Daddy Bill’s hand tightened slightly in my hair, drawing my attention back to his cock just inches from my face. His other hand continued stroking himself slowly, almost lazily.
“There’s one very important rule you need to understand about the Bad Girl program right from the beginning,” Daddy Bill said, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. “The most important rule, really, from your perspective. Bad girls only get fucked with a very sore bottom.”
The words made my hips jerk hard, pushing my pussy back desperately against Daddy Ed’s shamefully probing fingers. To my dismay I understood exactly what he meant—what they both meant. The spanking hadn’t just been punishment. It had been preparation.
“Open your mouth, Little Seventy-One,” Bill said softly.
I shook my head, the only rebellion I had left. “No. Please, no.”
Behind me, Ed’s fingers stilled inside me. Then withdrew completely. The loss of sensation was immediate and shocking—I hadn’t realized how much my body had been responding to his touch until it was gone. The aching emptiness between my legs felt unbearable.
“Please,” I heard myself whimper, my hips moving despite the restraints, searching for something, anything. “Please, Daddy…”
“Open your mouth,” Daddy Bill repeated.
My lips parted. I told myself it was because I had no choice, because they’d broken me, because resistance was pointless.
But some terrible part of me knew the truth—I opened my mouth because I needed Daddy Ed’s touch back, because my body was screaming for it, because the shame and the arousal had tangled together so completely I couldn’t separate them anymore.
Daddy Bill’s cock pressed against my lips.
The taste of him flooded my senses as he pushed inside: salty, with his own musk.
I’d given my share of head, even before Leo, and I’d gotten used to the taste of a man’s hardness.
Something about the way Daddy Bill thrust into my mouth as if he owned it changed the flavor for me, though.
The darkness of the masculine note in it, the hint of shame and naughtiness, made me whimper around him.
He pressed just two or three inches inside at first, patient and controlled, clearly meaning to let me adjust to the intrusion.
To my horror, I found myself wanting more—wanting to show my new daddy that I knew I had to be a good girl, or I would get another paddling.
I couldn’t bear that, I knew. So I had to please my daddy with my little mouth, make it feel good for his huge cock.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his hand still gentle in my hair. “Just like that. Good girl.”
Behind me, Ed’s fingers returned between my legs and I moaned around Bill’s cock. The vibration must have felt good because Bill groaned softly and pushed a little deeper.
“We’re going to train this mouth properly,” Bill said, his voice steady despite the obvious arousal. “You’ve used it as a weapon, as a manipulation tool. But your mouth belongs to your daddies now.”
I felt Daddy Ed’s fingers slide further back, trailing through the wetness at the opening of my aching sheath before moving to that forbidden place I’d never let anyone touch. My whole body went rigid, my teeth almost closing around Daddy Bill’s cock as Ed’s fingertip pressed against my anus.
“No,” I tried to say, but the word came out muffled and incomprehensible around the thickness filling my mouth.
“This little hole is going to be very important to your reformation, Little Seventy-One,” Daddy Ed said, his voice taking on the patronizing, instructional tone that made everything so much more mortifying.
His finger circled the tiny opening with maddening patience.
“Bad girls in the program receive anal training as part of their rehabilitation. Your body needs to understand that every part of you belongs to your daddies now.”
I whimpered around Daddy Bill’s cock, trying to shake my head, but his grip in my hair tightened, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
“Deeper now,” Daddy Bill said, and pushed further into my mouth.
The head of his cock pressed against the back of my throat and I gagged, tears streaming down my face.
He withdrew slightly, then pushed in again, training me with patient, relentless pressure.
“Relax your throat. Breathe through your nose. Good girl.”
Behind me, Daddy Ed’s finger pressed more insistently against my anus.
I felt something slick and cool—lubricant, I realized with fresh horror—and then the tip of his finger breached the little bud of my anus.
The sensation was overwhelming, terribly wrong in how distressingly good it felt, a violation that made me want to scream except I couldn’t because my mouth was full of Daddy Bill’s cock.
“Such a tight little hole,” Daddy Ed murmured, working his finger deeper with agonizing slowness. “We’re going to train it properly. By the time we’re done with you, you’ll beg your daddies to fuck your ass.”
The words sent a fresh wave of shame and arousal through me. My pussy clenched desperately around nothing, aching to be filled while Daddy Ed violated me from behind and Daddy Bill fucked my face.
Daddy Bill’s rigid tool pushed deeper, and this time when I gagged he held me there for a moment, his cock pressing into my throat until I couldn’t breathe. Then he withdrew, letting me gasp around him before pushing in again.
“That’s it,” he said. “You’re learning. Your mouth is just another hole for Daddy to use.”
Daddy Ed’s finger moved inside me with practiced skill, stretching me, preparing me for something I couldn’t let myself think about. Then I felt him withdraw, and I heard him moving to the cabinet against the wall. The sound of a drawer opening made my stomach clench with dread.
“This is a small plug,” Daddy Ed said, returning to his position behind me. “Just to get you started. We’ll work up to larger sizes as your training progresses.”
I felt something hard and unyielding press against my lubricated opening—bigger than his finger, undeniably solid.
I tried to clench against it, but Daddy Ed just kept up the pressure, steady and inexorable, until I cried out as I felt its bulk stretch me much too wide.
Then suddenly it slipped inside, my body accepting the intrusion, and the narrow part of the plug let my muscles close around it.
The base settled against my paddled bottom, keeping it lodged inside.
The fullness was overwhelming. Mortifying and intrusive and impossible to ignore. Every tiny movement made me aware of it, of how completely they’d violated me.
“Perfect,” Daddy Ed murmured. Then I heard the rasp of his zipper, the rustle of fabric as he freed himself. “Now for the main event.”
His hands gripped my hips and I felt the head of his cock press against my entrance. Not my ass—thank God, not my ass—but my pussy, which was so wet I could feel it dripping down my thighs despite every ounce of shame coursing through me.
Daddy Bill pulled back slightly from my mouth, letting me gasp for air. “Think about how you’re taking it, Little Seventy-One,” he said, his voice rough with arousal. “Think about how a bad girl like you gets fucked.”
“Say please,” Daddy Ed commanded.
I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop myself.
“Please, Daddy,” I begged.
My new blue-eyed daddy pushed inside my pussy in one long, devastating thrust.
I screamed around Daddy Bill’s cock as Daddy Ed filled me completely. The plug in my ass made everything tighter, more intense, and the sensation of being filled in both holes while my mouth was used overwhelmed every thought, every defense I’d ever built.
“God, she’s tight,” Daddy Ed groaned, holding himself deep inside me for a moment before withdrawing and thrusting again. “The plug makes her pussy like a glove.”
He set a rhythm—slow at first, letting me feel every inch of him, letting the plug shift with each thrust. My body responded despite everything, my hips pushing back to meet him, seeking more even as my mind screamed in horror at what I was doing.
Daddy Bill resumed fucking my face in counterpoint to Daddy Ed’s thrusts. When Ed pulled back, Bill pushed deep. When Ed drove forward, Bill withdrew. They worked in perfect coordination, using my body like an instrument they’d played a thousand times before.
The pressure built inside me with terrifying speed.
The fullness, the helplessness, the shame of being restrained and used—it all fed into something dark and desperate that I’d never let myself feel before.
My pussy clenched around Daddy Ed’s cock and he groaned in response, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise.
“She’s close,” Daddy Ed said, his analytical voice strained now with his own need. “I’m sure the sensor readings are off the charts.”
“Let her come,” Daddy Bill said, his hand tightening in my hair. “Let her feel what her body really needs.”
Daddy Ed changed his angle slightly and his next thrust hit something inside me that made my nervous system explode with pleasure.
The plug shifted, his cock filled me completely, and the shame and arousal tangled together into something so intense I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
I came.
The orgasm ripped through me with a violence I’d never experienced, every muscle in my body contracting around the intrusions, my scream muffled by Daddy Bill’s cock as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.
It went on and on, my pussy clenching desperately around Daddy Ed while the plug pressed against places inside me I’d never known existed.
My mind went white, blank, everything reduced to pure sensation as my body betrayed me completely.
I was still shaking with aftershocks when I heard Daddy Ed’s voice, breathless now but still maintaining that condescending tone that made everything so much worse.
“The doctor installed more than just the sensor, Little Seventy-One,” he said, his thrusts becoming harder, more urgent.
“There’s a contraceptive device as well.
Long-term, completely effective.” His fingers dug into my hips.
“Which means your daddies are going to come inside you. Fill you up. Help you learn your place as a receptacle for their pleasure.”
The words should have horrified me. Instead, they sent another spike of shameful arousal through my oversensitive body. A receptacle. An object for their use. The degradation of it made my pussy clench again around Daddy Ed’s cock.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Feel what you are now. Feel what you need.”
Daddy Bill’s thrusts into my mouth became erratic, less controlled. “Going to fill your mouth,” he said, his voice slightly strained with his pleasure. “Going to make you swallow every drop like a good little girl.”
Daddy Ed drove deep one final time and I felt him swell inside me, felt the pulse of his release as he came, the first time I’d ever let a man come inside me.
The sensation triggered something primal in me—being filled, being claimed, being used—and impossibly, another orgasm crashed through my already overwhelmed nervous system.
I screamed around Daddy Bill’s cock as Daddy Ed pumped into me, marking me from the inside.
Daddy Bill groaned and thrust deep into my throat.
“Swallow,” he commanded, and then he was coming too, hot and thick, flooding my mouth.
I swallowed reflexively, gagging slightly but taking it all because I had no choice, because my mouth belonged to him now, because some terrible part of me wanted to be good for my daddies.
They held themselves inside me for a long moment—Daddy Ed’s cock still pulsing in my pussy, Daddy Bill’s softening in my mouth—and I just hung there in the restraints, my body racked with tremors, tears streaming down my face, completely and utterly broken.
Finally, they withdrew. The loss of fullness left me feeling empty, hollow. Daddy Ed’s release leaked out of me and I felt it drip down my thighs. The plug remained lodged in my ass, a continuing reminder of what they’d done to me.
“That was a constructive first lesson, Seventy-One,” Daddy Ed said. “I’m sure you worked up an appetite. Let’s get you fed. You’ll meet the other bad girls at dinner.”