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I chewed on the inside of my cheek a little, looking at the sturdy metal bar bolted into the wall next to my bed, trying to sort through my emotions.
For tying bad girls to.The idea that they had secured such a solid object into the very structure of my bedroom seemed to cause two deeply conflicting sets of feelings to surge into my mind and my body at the same time: shame, and fear, and anger on the one hand, that these men would think it was okay to chain a girl up like that, and that the girl happened to be me.
Safety, and security, and even affection on the other hand, despite how absolutely insane it seemed—because my daddies would never chain a girl up that way unless they really did want to make her their little lady. As I felt Daddy Phil climb onto the bed and sensed his huge body bending over me, with something jingly in his hands, I realized that both of those urgent groups of emotions had decided to work together to make me terribly aware of my body, and my blue-eyed wolf daddy’s so close to it—and even of Daddy Jacob’s hulking bear-like form standing in the background, watching his fellow daddy chain his bad girl to the wall.
I let out a little whimper as Daddy Phil put around my wrists the same kind of pink leather cuffs I had seen on Ashley’s, and closed the sturdy velcro tightly. The cuffs, which thankfully had a layer of soft fabric to protect my skin from chafing, already had the chain attached. Daddy Phil clipped the end of it to a fixture on the bar.
Immediately, out of some rebellious bad-girl instinct, I shook the cuffs and pulled at the chain, like a caged animal pacing to find the boundaries of her captivity. When I found just how little space I had to move around, the two feelings of angry fear and needy warmth redoubled, and I felt my brow furrow very hard. I turned my cheek further into the pillow, desperate to make sure my daddies couldn’t see my face and wouldn’t know just how conflicted this degradation had made me.
The chain, about a foot long, stretched almost far enough to make me wonder whether I could twist myself enough to manage still to touch my pussy. I realized that I could definitely touch my nipples, which surprised me, because I had wondered if that might represent the thing I was supposed to figure out about why my daddies were chaining me to my wall this way. Then I remembered that if Icouldtouch my pussy, I still wouldn’t be able to feel it through the awful panties.
“It’s not a lot of room,” Daddy Phil said, clearly responding to my testing the length of the chain. His voice didn’t have any sympathy in it, and the tone made me wonder again about what they meant me tofigure outabout being chained to the wall of my bedroom. “But you’ll get used to it.”
“Good night, honey,” Daddy Jacob’s voice said from behind me. “Try to get some sleep.”
Daddy Phil rubbed my shoulder briefly. Then his hand moved down, over my ribs, across my tummy. He put it between my legs and squeezed firmly. I could feel the pressure, again, but the sob that came from my throat was of unsatisfied need and terrible frustration at the utter lack of erotic stimulation that pressure carried.
“Tonight you’ll learn just how completely this part of you belongs to your daddies, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to murmur in my ear.
I bit my lip and whimpered, helpless to do anything but long for more—able only to long to do whatever it took to be their little lady, or at least to do a flawless impersonation of her.
A little suspicion of what my daddies wanted me to figure out, and what it had to do with my pussy and bottom belonging to them, rose in my mind. I refused to let it take shape completely, because it just seemed too shameful, but when my daddies had left and turned out the light, it was all I could think about.
Ashley had started to moan and cry out only a little while after she had gone to bed, hadn’t she? For long minutes I waited to find out what it all meant, sure it would start to happen soon. Instead, I went to sleep, as suddenly as only seems to happen when you’re trying to stay awake for something that you’re sure is about to occur.
CHAPTER23
Jacob
“I’m setting the alarm for six,” I told Phil after he had come into the bunk room. “We’ll keep her asleep until then.”
I had felt a lot of skepticism when Paul had told me about the tech Selecta had built into the SRDs’ beds. How could a mattress put someone to sleep, then keep them from waking up until you wanted them to get up? Something something ultrasonic something something circadian rhythm, was all I could get from the documentation, but it had worked like a charm on Ashley.
The monitor in the bunk room had the feed from the infrared camera in Marianne’s room, and the sensor data from the bed and her own perineal sensor ran along the bottom of the screen. In the upper right, her arousal read as four. Did that mean she was dreaming of her daddies?
How had she managed to work her way into my heart so quickly and so deeply? I glanced over at Phil, already in the bottom bunk and reading a book on his handheld, wondering if he felt it too.
As if he could feel my eyes, he looked up and met my gaze. The corner of his mouth turned up with a smile that seemed a bit sarcastic.
“Can’t get enough?” he asked.
I laughed, though I had to force it a bit.
“You can?” I replied.
“Well,” Phil said with a chuckle, as his smile turned into a grin, “I guess when she’s asleep and I can’t tap that gorgeous ass…” His voice trailed off as he obviously noticed that my expression had darkened a bit. Then he continued, “You’ve got it bad, Jacob?”
This time my laugh definitely sounded fake. “I guess you could say that.”
On the screen Marianne stirred a little. The mic in her room picked up a tiny whimper. I felt my heart glow and my cock stir. The sight of our bad girl in those strangely degrading punishment panties, chained to the wall, brought feelings I hadn’t suspected I had. I felt a sort of sheer bad-daddy hunger to have her again and again, my hardness plunging into her little body like a conquering emperor ravaging a vanquished town, mingled with the wish just to hold her in my arms and cuddle her for hours, along with the strangest emotion—a kind of paternal pride to have my bad girl secured in her bed, frustrated at the moment from her day of discipline, but soon to experience the pleasurable reward she had earned, a sort of shameful ecstasy Marianne Givens had never imagined.
“She’s a great girl,” Phil said. “I mean, after she’s finished with her sentence, if I felt like settling down or whatever…” He returned his attention to his book.
I looked back at Marianne on the screen: her restlessness had faded, and she seemed to sleep soundly now. Her arousal had fallen to three. I didn’t mind, because I thought it would help her sleep peacefully. She needed the rest: she would have an exciting morning, if her daddies had anything to say about it.
I turned and started to climb up to my bunk. I didn’t feel like settling down any more than Phil did, but Marianne’s need for a daddy had brought out something important in me that I wanted to pay as much attention to as it deserved. Asshedeserved.
I set the alarm on my handheld and put it in its nook.
