Chapter 15
Pam
“Look who earned her panties,” Emily said as I settled into a chair in the cafeteria. “Little Seventy-One, I wasn’t sure you had it in you. And on your very first day.”
Emily and Keiko were the only ones at the table when my daddies had dropped me off at lunch, my bottom and pussy feeling strange and very sore in the white cotton briefs it now seemed I had the right to wear under the pink uniform.
I looked down at my tray, unable to meet Emily’s eyes directly.
The gently mocking pride in her voice made my chest feel tight with complicated emotions I didn’t want to examine.
Part of me wanted to snap back with something cutting, to reassert the person I’d been before yesterday.
But that person felt distant now, like she belonged to someone else.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, picking up my fork.
Keiko gave me a small, sympathetic smile. “The first time is always the hardest.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant the first anal fucking or the first time earning privileges back, and I didn’t want to ask. The cafeteria door opened and I glanced up instinctively, then froze.
Shaniqua walked in wearing nothing but a diaper. No uniform, no panties underneath—just the thick white cloth fastened around her hips. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she moved with the careful gait of someone whose bottom had been thoroughly punished recently.
Emily’s expression shifted to concern. “Seventy, what happened?”
Shaniqua sat down heavily in the chair across from me, wincing as her diapered bottom made contact with the plastic seat.
“My daddies thought my latest code was lazy,” she said, her voice flat with exhaustion.
“Said I wasn’t putting in enough effort on the authentication bypass module.
So they plugged me and put me back in diapers until I can prove I’m serious about the work. ”
I felt a spike of anxiety in my chest. The technical work mattered that much? I’d been so focused on surviving the sexual humiliation that I hadn’t fully processed how important our actual output was to them.
The door opened again and Joyce entered, also wearing nothing but a diaper. Her willowy frame looked even more vulnerable in just the padding, and I saw tears tracking down her cheeks as she made her way to our table.
“You too, Sixty-Two?” Emily asked, her sharp features creasing with genuine worry now.
Joyce nodded miserably as she sat down. “They said my approach to the payload delivery system was derivative. That I wasn’t thinking creatively enough.” Her voice broke slightly. “They took everything. Even my panties.”
A heavy silence settled over the table. I looked around at the other girls—Emily in her full uniform, Keiko the same, while Shaniqua and Joyce sat in nothing but diapers. The hierarchy was brutally visible, written on our bodies for everyone to see.
“The daddies have been frustrated lately,” Emily said quietly, glancing toward the door as if checking that no guards were within earshot. “I’ve heard them talking. The honeypots we’ve been building are still catching criminals, but the rate is slowing down. We’re running into diminishing returns.”
I felt my analytical mind engage despite everything else swirling through my head. “What’s the problem?” I asked, finally looking up to meet Emily’s eyes.
She shrugged, her expression troubled. “We keep refining the same basic traps. Making them more convincing, more sophisticated. But the really smart hackers are learning to recognize the patterns. We need something completely different. A new vector they won’t expect.”
My mind flashed back to the tutorial I’d worked through that morning. Something had occurred to me while I was going through the modules on financial system vulnerabilities. I’d almost dismissed it as too ambitious, too complex. But now…
“What about Selecta’s international bank transfer system?
” I said slowly, the idea crystallizing as I spoke.
“The one they use for moving money between subsidiaries in different countries. It has to interface with dozens of different banking protocols. That’s a huge attack surface, and hackers would kill to get access to it. ”
Emily’s eyes sharpened with interest. “Go on.”
“We could build a honeypot that looks like a vulnerability in one of those interfaces,” I continued, my words coming faster as the concept took shape.
“Make it look like someone on the inside left a backdoor open. The kind of thing that would let an attacker redirect transfers, skim funds, whatever. It would be irresistible to the kind of sophisticated criminals we’re trying to catch. ”
Keiko leaned forward. “But wouldn’t that be dangerous? Actually exposing Selecta’s real financial systems?”
“That could be the beauty of it,” I said, feeling that familiar rush of solving a complex problem.
“We don’t actually expose anything. We create a completely isolated environment that mimics the real system perfectly.
It would take serious analysis to realize it’s fake.
By the time they figure it out, we’d have documented everything about their methods. ”
Emily was quiet for a long moment, her sharp features thoughtful. When she finally spoke, her voice was careful. “I don’t think anyone’s thought of that yet.”
My heart rate picked up. “Really?”
“The financial systems are considered too sensitive,” Emily explained.
“We’ve been told they’re off limits for honeypot work.
But if we could make the case that it’s actually more secure to create a controlled fake vulnerability than to leave the real systems potentially exposed…
” She trailed off, clearly thinking through the implications.
“It would be a completely new angle,” Keiko added softly. “Not just a refinement of existing traps, but an entirely different approach.”
Shaniqua looked up from her tray, hope flickering in her tired eyes. “Do you think the daddies would go for it?”
“I think they might have to,” Emily said slowly.
“If the current approach is hitting diminishing returns like they say, they need something radical. Something that changes the game entirely.” She turned her gaze on me, and I saw a new respect in her expression.
“You should propose it in the Workshop this afternoon. Formally. Initiate a new project in the system.”
The weight of that settled on my shoulders. This morning I’d been the newest girl, the one who had to kiss everyone’s assholes to learn her place. Now Emily was telling me to pitch a major strategic shift to the people who controlled every aspect of our lives.
“What if they think it’s stupid?” I asked, hating how vulnerable the question made me sound.
“Then you’ll get punished,” Emily said bluntly. “But if they think it’s stupid and don’t have anything better, you’ll get punished anyway when your work starts showing diminishing returns like ours. At least this way you’re taking initiative.”
I thought about Shaniqua and Joyce sitting there in nothing but diapers, their clothes stripped away because their daddies weren’t satisfied with their output.
I thought about the plug I’d worn all morning, the way my ass still ached from being fucked by both my daddies.
The constant reminder of how completely they controlled me.
But I also thought about the strange lightness I’d felt after the spanking, the way something had cracked open inside me when I’d finally stopped resisting.
Maybe that same principle applied here. Maybe the way to survive this wasn’t to hold back, to protect myself, but to lean in completely.
To give them everything—my body, my submission, and my mind.
The idea brought a surge of contradictory thoughts and feelings to my brain, to my heart, and even—dismayingly—to my pussy.
Part of me wanted to give in like that, despite the essential independence and even defiance that I had always thought constituted a basic part of my identity.
Part of me thought that compliant part had lost its fucking mind.
They had spanked me and fucked my ass as if they owned it.
How could that make me want to help them?
But… maybe I should just, you know, go along to get along? Even maybe just play for time that way?
“Okay,” I said quietly. I told myself that I had actually come to a decision, and a wave of relief surged in me. “I’ll do it.”
Emily nodded approvingly. “Good girl.”
The praise made my cheeks flush, and I looked down at my food again. The dynamic at this table had shifted in some subtle way I didn’t fully understand yet. I was still the newest, still at the bottom of the hierarchy. But I’d also just demonstrated value in a way that mattered here.
We ate in silence for a few minutes before Joyce spoke up, her voice small. “Do you think… do you think if the new approach works, we’ll all be able to work on it—and, you know, get our uniforms back?”
“Maybe,” Emily said gently. “If you can show them you’re committed to producing better results.
” She looked at Shaniqua and Joyce with something like compassion.
“But you two need to step up your game regardless. Your daddies are going to keep you in diapers, and probably plug you too, until you do.”
Shaniqua nodded, wiping at her eyes. “I know. I just… I got lazy. Started going through the motions instead of really thinking about the problems.”
“I think that’s what they want to break us of,” Keiko said quietly.
“You know, complacency. They want us sharp, focused, giving them our best work.” She glanced at me.
“I think that’s how the… you know… the sexual training and the technical work are connected.
I think they’re trying to help us to always perform at our peak, to need their approval so badly that we’ll push ourselves harder than we ever would on our own. ”
The observation made too much sense. I thought about how my mind had felt clearer in the Workshop this morning despite—or maybe because of—the plug in my ass and the diaper around my hips. How the humiliation had somehow sharpened my focus instead of dulling it.
Again the urge to give in rose in me, and this time it seemed like the voice of defiance had grown softer.
“It’s working,” I admitted quietly. “I hate that it’s working, but it is.”
Emily’s lips curved in a slight smile. “That’s the first step to acceptance, new girl. Understanding that resistance is pointless because they’ve already figured out how to make our brains work the way they want.”
The door opened again and Mr. Jenkins entered, his imposing frame filling the doorway. “Five minutes, ladies. Then back to the Workshop.”
We finished our meals quickly, clearing our trays in silence. As we lined up to leave, I found myself between Shaniqua and Joyce, both of them in their diapers while I wore my earned panties and uniform. The contrast seemed terribly stark. Clearly status could shift very quickly here.
But I also felt something else—a strange sense of possibility. For the first time since my arrest, I had a plan that didn’t involve just surviving. I had an idea that might actually change things, that might give me some small measure of agency in this place where everything was controlled.
“Ugh,” Emily said in my ear as we filed out. “I’m so horny and my ass hurts so much. My daddies didn’t let me come. They said they thought I’d been greedy when I queened you this morning, so they just paddled me.”
I felt my face go bright red as I remembered her riding my face, grunting in pleasure as she had used me, her pussy’s fragrance in my nose and its musky taste on my lips.
“Sorry?” I said, trying to turn my embarrassment and helpless arousal into a joke.
Emily laughed and punched me lightly on the shoulder.
“Not your fault, new girl. But I’m going to queen you even harder tomorrow unless they let me come at bedtime.”
She walked on ahead while I brought up the rear, trying to sort through the welter of emotions and sensations she had just so casually raised in me.
I hadn’t gotten anywhere with that project when I slid into my chair in the Workshop.
Instead, I felt my own bottom’s soreness, and I felt perversely happy to dwell on that instead of on Emily’s threat.
I blushed anew at the way I felt thoroughly disciplined not just outside, in my spanked cheeks, but inside too, where my daddies’ enormous cocks had taken my rear end’s virginity and left their hot seed to trickle out into my newly granted panties.
They had taught me a terrible lesson: the kind of lesson a bad girl gets.
The kind that teaches a bad girl to make better choices.
I bit my lip as I regarded the monitor in front of me, partly in discomfort but partly in renewed arousal as I felt the reminders of how my daddies had taken me in hand. I would give in, and see what I could do to get better at… well, at everything really.
From the main menu of the Project Dollhouse coding environment, I chose New Project.