I heard Keiko let out a tiny sob, as if from the shameful knowledge that she would be next.
I heard Joyce gasp and I sensed that Emily’s daddies had raised Emily up and moved her onward. Keiko let out a little cry, which became muffled, and the wet sounds began again. Emily moaned. Shaniqua’s breathing seemed to get ragged.
My nose picked up the naughty, musky scent of the pleasure Emily’s daddies were compelling their bad girl to feel. Iswallowed hard as waves of conflicting thoughts and feelings rose in my mind and I tried to push them away.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Emily and her daddies now as on wobbling legs she moved from Keiko’s face to Shaniqua’s. I saw that Daddy Ben and Daddy Howard were holding Emily’s hands and helping her balance and stay steady as she squatted over Shaniqua’s face. Shaniqua let out a little whimper as her features vanished beneath Emily’s pussy and bottom crack. The wet sounds came again, and the lewd fragrance of needy pussy.
To my distress, my mouth began to water.
No. I don’t want this. I don’t want…
I must have lost track of time as I fought against myself, because Emily suddenly appeared above me, guided by Daddy Ben and Daddy Howard.
“Down you go,” said Daddy Howard. “Last sister.”
I let out a sob as her feet moved to either side of my arms and with her daddies’ help she squatted, trembling violently. I looked up at her glistening pussy, already so wet with her arousal and our sisters’ shameful attention. My heart hammered as her thighs bracketed my head, as she lowered herself onto my mouth.
I whimpered, and let my lascivious need take over. I worked my tongue into her, tasting her familiar flavor as she ground against me. I heard her moan above me, felt her weight shift as she rode my face. My own pussy clenched with need, empty and aching for attention that wasn’t coming yet.
“Oh, God,” Emily moaned. “Daddy… Daddy… may I…”
“Go ahead,” said Daddy Ben. “Come on Little Seventy-One’s face.”
My fellow bad girl cried out above me, and I sobbed as she rode harder and harder, relying on her daddies’ hold almost as if they had made a sort of swing for her. She used me with abandon, and I felt my own hips buck. Without thinking about it, I put my right hand down there, worked my clit, cried out like Emily.
“No, Seventy-One,” I heard Daddy Bill say. “Get that hand away from yourself.”
My cheeks burning, I ripped my hand away. As if the idea of my being denied pleasure had pushed her over the edge, Emily jerked her backside wildly over my face, screaming with the intensity of her orgasm. Her salty juices ran over my cheeks and my pussy clenched hard at the terrible humiliation of it.
When Emily’s body had stopped shaking, her daddies helped her rise.
“Now you’ll return the favor,” I heard Daddy Howard say. “Girls, this is the chance you’ve been waiting for to give your Trusty back what she gave to you.”
They made Emily lie on her back, and one by one we were brought to straddle her face, the same way she had done ours, with our daddies on either side of us to help us squat and ride. I watched Joyce approach and I saw in her eyes an uncharacteristic fire. I swallowed hard as I understood: Joyce meant to repay Emily not just for Emily’s own demands, but the demands of whoever had come before her—of the system of Project Dollhouse itself.
Joyce’s daddies helped her position herself over Emily’s face, and I watched as she lowered herself without hesitation. Themoment Emily’s mouth made contact, Joyce began to move with deliberate roughness, grinding down hard, her hips rocking with almost violent intensity. Her hazel eyes were fierce, almost feral, and I heard Emily’s muffled protests beneath her.
“That’s it,” Joyce grunted, her hands gripping her own breasts as she rode. “How does it feel? You like having your face used like this?”
She worked herself faster, harder, her movements becoming erratic as her orgasm built. When it hit, she threw her head back and let out a guttural grunt, her whole body shuddering as she ground down one final time before her daddies helped her dismount.
Keiko was next, and the contrast was immediate. Her approach was gentle, almost apologetic, as her daddies guided her into position. She lowered herself carefully onto Emily’s face, her movements measured and controlled. But I could see the trembling in her thighs, the way her dark eyes squeezed shut as Emily’s tongue found her. Keiko rocked slowly, rhythmically, her breath coming in short gasps until finally she came with a broken sob, tears streaming down her face.
Then Shaniqua straddled Emily’s face, and I felt my stomach clench with anticipation and dread.
“Yeah, slut,” Shaniqua said, her voice dripping with vindictive pleasure as she settled her weight onto Emily’s face. “How do you like having a pussy on your face? Do you like tasting me while everyone watches?”
She rode hard, even harder than Joyce had, her hips moving with punishing intensity. “Get that tongue deeper. Yeah, that’sright. Make me come, Trusty. Show everyone what a good little face you’ve got for riding.”
Her dirty talk continued, each crude word making my face burn hotter, making my pussy clench with shameful arousal. When she finally came, it was with a scream that echoed off the cafeteria walls, her body convulsing as she used Emily’s mouth for her pleasure.
Then it was my turn.
My legs trembled as Daddy Bill and Daddy Ed guided me forward, their hands steady on my arms. I looked down at Emily’s face, flushed and wet from servicing the other girls, her eyes meeting mine with something that might have been understanding or might have been resignation.
My daddies helped me position myself, and as I began to lower onto Emily’s face, something snapped inside me. All the rage I’d been suppressing, all the shame and humiliation and confusion of the past two weeks, came flooding out in a wave of dark need.
“How do you like it?” I heard myself say, my voice harsh and unfamiliar as I ground down onto her mouth. “Does that feel as good as queening me? Does it?”
