Breakfast only lasted twenty minutes. The other bad girls needed to get to the Workshop and start coding. I felt sure their first task would be to go through my code and strip out the remarks that I had so carefully—and, I understood now, foolishly—encrypted.
It felt like eternity, though. Tears dripped from my eyes onto the platform they had put me on. Every few minutes I would let out a sob that refused to be stifled. I traveled the shameful landscape of my mind, desperate for some kind of comfort—some indication that I could keep myself intact in the face of this demonstration of my apparent inability to make good choices.
By the time the other girls had left I had stopped noticing anything outside myself, beyond the discomfort and the mortification. When Daddy Bill said from behind me, “Stand up, Little Seventy-One. It’s time to go to the suite,” I barely understood the meaning of the words since they came from outside my mind.
Then I realized whatgo to the suitemeant, and my body reacted in a fashion so conflicted that I was instantly dizzy—even before I straightened up, my hands moving behind me to protect my plugged bottom, as if that could stop my daddies from doing whatever they wanted with my backside.
The true dizziness from the act of standing hit me then, and I nearly fell. Daddy Ed grabbed my upper arm roughly, and kept me on my feet. Immediately he started walking me out of the cafeteria.
“Please…” I babbled. “Please, Daddy… I’ll be good… I’ll do… I’ll be so good for you… I’ll make Daddy’s cock feel so good…”
“Oh, yes,” Daddy Bill said from behind me. “You’ll definitely do that, Little Pamela. Our cocks are going to have a good time inside you.”
I sobbed harder as they guided me through the hallways toward their suite. My legs barely worked, trembling with exhaustion and fear and something darker I couldn’t name. The horrible plug shifted with each step, bringing back into my mind over and over how completely they owned my body.
When we reached their suite, Daddy Ed pressed his palm to the scanner and the door clicked open. They led me inside and positioned me in the center of the living room. The familiar space felt different now—not warm and comforting, but charged with something severe and unforgiving.
“On your knees,” Daddy Bill commanded.
I sank down, my legs folding beneath me. The movement made the plug press deeper and I whimpered.
“Reach back,” Daddy Ed said. “Hold those cheeks apart for us.”
My face flooded with heat as I reached behind myself, my hands finding my punished bottom. I pulled the burning cheeks apart, feeling the base of the plug between them, knowing they could see everything.
“Good girl,” Daddy Bill murmured, and I heard him unfastening his pants. “Now open that pretty mouth.”
I looked up to see him pulling out his cock, already hard. He stepped closer, his hand wrapping around the base, and guided himself to my lips. I opened for him, tasting the familiar salt and musk as he pushed inside.
“That’s it,” he said, his hand gripping my hair. “Take it deep, bad girl.”
CHAPTER 21
Pam
He began to move, fucking my face with steady thrusts that made me gag when he hit the back of my throat. My hands stayed locked on my bottom, holding myself open while he used my mouth. Tears streamed down my face but I didn’t pull away.
Then he withdrew and Daddy Ed took his place. As always, my blue-eyed daddy’s cock felt slightly different—longer, hitting places that made me choke. He gripped my hair firmly, controlling the pace, using my mouth for his pleasure while I knelt there holding my punished bottom open like the bad girl I was.
They took turns like that, back and forth, each one pushing deeper than seemed possible. My jaw ached. Saliva dripped down my chin. But neither of them came. They just kept using me, kept reminding me with each thrust that my mouth belonged to them.
Finally Daddy Ed pulled out and stepped back. “Face to the floor,” he instructed. “Keep those hands where they are.”
I bent forward until my forehead touched the carpet, my bottom raised high, my hands still spreading my cheeks. I felt Daddy Ed’s fingers grip the base of the plug.
“Deep breath,” he said, his voice terribly severe—a paternal tone so different from the gentle, caring way he usually had with me, when training me in some difficult and shameful service that filled me with hot, dark need despite myself.
Then he pulled. The stretch was immediate and overwhelming as the widest part began to emerge. I screamed into the carpet, my body trying to clench against the intrusion in reverse. My hips wove up and down, side to side, as if I could escape from my daddy’s punishment. But he was relentless, working the plug out slowly but steadily until finally it popped free and I felt horribly empty.
Strong hands lifted me then, and I felt myself being carried toward the bedroom. They laid me down on the bed, on my back. They loomed over me as they took off their clothes, the looks on their faces just as hard as the huge cocks that jutted from their laps, still glistening with my saliva.
“I…” I tried. My voice sounded strange to me, and inappropriate—as if even I could understand that a bad girl shouldn’t think she had the slightest say in how her daddies disciplined her. “You… Daddies… please…”
Daddy Bill’s eyes narrowed.
“If you know what’s good for you, Little Seventy-One, you’ll shut that mouth and take what Daddy decides to give you.”
I felt my face twist into a pathetic pout. A sob rose in my throat.
