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Her mouth had turned up an extra millimeter, maybe, while her lower lip protruded what looked like a full centimeter further than I knew the actual pain would inspire. I had thought Marianne looked enticing yesterday, over the back of the couch, but something about her posture now, stretched over the desk with her apple-red ass presented for discipline, her wrists secured in my hands, and her lovely, tear-filled blue eyes gazing up at me with that incredibly provocative expression—I’m sorry, Daddy… I promise never to do it again until the next time I do it—made my already rigid cock seem like a steel pole against my thigh.
“We gonna do it here, over the desk?” Phil asked.
I looked up at him, overcoming my reluctance to take my eyes off Marianne’s bewitching little-girl expression. I smiled at the hungry-daddy look in his blue eyes.
“Yup,” I told him. “Why don’t you go get the lube they sent with her?”
I looked back down into Marianne’s face. If I had thought her expression conveyed woefulness before, I hadn’t seen anything: the news of her looming anal defloration had made her brow crease so deeply I thought it must hurt. As Phil left to fetch the big bottle Selecta had provided for this form of sexual discipline, which human resources had made clear represented an essential part of Marianne’s rehabilitation program, I spoke to her in a soft but very firm voice.
“Daddy’s going to take his clothes off now, honey, so we can all be naked together. Then Daddy Phil and I are going to fuck your little bottom, the way you need your daddies to do.”
I watched her eyes go wide, almost as if she wanted me to think she somehow hadn’t understood until then what she had coming. Again I had the gratifying impression that Marianne had started to embrace her role as a naughty little girl—even if she herself didn’t realize the psychological, and sexual, step forward she had begun to make.
“But…” she said. “But… Daddy…”
Her face changed a bit, and I could tell it had everything to do with hearing her own voice, the way her words had come out in such an adorable, if petulant, little-girl tone.
“But?” I asked her, teasingly, and at the same moment I let go of her wrists and reached my right hand across her body to take a gentle hold of her blazing bottom. Marianne let out a whimper so arousing that it made my cock leap. I worked two fingers downward, and inward, reminding her of how her daddies’ cocks had opened up her sweet virgin pussy yesterday.
Marianne’s back arched hard, and I could actually feel her need pooling around my thrusting fingertips. I wondered if we even needed the artificial lube, since we had such a plentiful natural source of it right next to the tiny, adorable hole we would claim today.
“But…” Marianne repeated.
“Yes, honey,” I murmured, moving my fingers higher, to probe her there, to prepare her for the ordeal to come. “This butt.”
* * *
Marianne
“Oh, God,” I sobbed as I felt Daddy Jacob’s fingers pushing there, one of them starting to invade me, eased I could tell by the wetness he had gathered from my treasonous pussy.
“Itisvery sore, isn’t it?” my daddy asked.
I realized I hadn’t answered his question, and I felt another of those crazy glows of gratitude that he hadn’t punished me for it.
But I couldn’t risk him continuing to go easy on me that way. Even if he had put a finger in my virgin anus…becausehe had his finger there now and had started to move it gently in and out, I had to answer. I didn’t want to say it, because I knew it would come out in the little-girl voice, and that would mean that my daddies should be doing what they were doing.
I had to, though. My brown-eyed daddy had his finger in my bottom, and my little cheeks hurt like hell, so I had to say it.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whimpered. “So…” I had to swallow hard, and I had to take a gasping breath, because of how the finger in my anus felt—the way it changed the pain to a very different kind of fire, and the way that fire started to rage in my pussy. “Oh, God…” I sobbed, hearing myself begin to babble, “so, so, so… so sore, Daddy… oh, God… please… please.”
Daddy Jacob kept holding my bottom gently with the rest of his hand while his terribly naughty, utterly degrading finger kept moving inside my tiny hole like a shameful symbol of his control over me, his bad girl fuck toy.
“What does that mean, honey?” he asked.
I heard Daddy Phil come back through the door into the office. I heard a little snap that could only be the sound of him opening the bottle of lube.
I hadn’t thought the pout on my face could get any deeper, but at the thought of the answer I knew I had to give and the anticipation of what the lube meant, I felt my upper lip curl even further towards my nose. Inside my chest, a war raged between the remnants of my defiance, my belief in the superiority of my smarts over Selecta’s daddy bullshit, and the irresistible need between my thighs. The war didn’t take long—or maybe it was just a decisive battle that seemed to unfold at the speed of light. My need won. I told myself thatmyneed had won, at any rate, rather than admitting that truly my daddies had won.
I turned my head over my shoulder anxiously. What I saw didn’t reassure me at all, but it sent a thrill of arousal surging through me so great that I heard myself whimper through my closed lips. Daddy Phil had taken off all his clothes, just as Daddy Jacob had said they would. His muscular body, with its broad shoulders, powerful chest, and rock-hard abs, made me feel faint. The sight of his long, hard penis made my mouth water shamefully, as if my body understood that taking my daddies there, pleasing them with my lips and tongue and even the back of my throat, simply represented the purpose of that part of me.
Like my pussy, where my daddies’ cocks go when they want to fuck me there.
My hips bucked as Daddy Jacob impaled my anus even more deeply with his finger. I turned back to look up at him with a little sob of shame and need.
Like my bottom, where my daddies put their cocks when I’m naughty.
The thought brought a moan from deep in my chest as my eyes met my daddy’s. The question seemed to linger in his dark gaze:What does that mean? What does a sore bottom mean for a bad girl?
