“We know all about Leo,” Bill continued, his free hand stroking his cock slowly. “We know you sucked him off right before your arrest. Used your mouth to keep him distracted while you worked. But that’s not the kind of oral service you’ll be providing here at Project Dollhouse, Little Seventy-One.”
Before I could process what he meant, I felt Ed’s hands on me from behind—but not the paddle this time. Something else. The snap of latex gloves, and then his fingers were between my legs, touching me where I was most vulnerable, most exposed.
“No,” I gasped, trying to clench my thighs together, but the restraints held me open. “Don’t?—”
His fingers slid along my slit with evident skill, and I knew—God, I knew—what he would find there. The wetness that had nothing to do with the diaper. The treacherous evidence of my body’s response to everything they’d done to me.
“Interesting,” Ed said, his voice taking on that analytical tone he’d used when discussing the honeypot servers. His fingers moved with deliberate purpose, exploring, assessing. “I’m sure you think of yourself as sexually experienced, Little Seventy-One. You’ve used sex as a tool, as leverage. But our assessors have determined something crucial about you.”
His fingers found the entrance of my vagina and I whimpered, my hips jerking involuntarily against the restraints.
“You’re completely innocent,” Ed continued, “when it comes to the kind of sex you really need.”
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.
