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Tomorrow morning, honey,I thought as the tiredness started to take hold of my body.Just wait.
* * *
Marianne
In my dream, Daddy Jacob had his enormous penis inside me. It seemed even bigger, and he seemed even more like a bear than he did in real life. He growled at me as he made me ride him, faster and faster, “Bad girl… good girl… bad girl…”
My hips jerked in my dream. Daddy Jacob had his hands on them, but he didn’t have to move me: I did it all by myself, because I couldn’t stop. I needed to ride and ride, as full as his manhood made my poor little pussy.
My wolf daddy stepped in front of me, and he presented his rigid erection to my lips, and I opened for him to thrust inside and use me the way a daddy uses a bad girl.
I cried out and woke myself up, and I found to my mingled dismay and delight that the horrible punishment panties were doing something, down there. Instead of an utter lack of sexual stimulation, I felt a tormenting, too-pleasurable vibration, a noiseless buzzing. My hips really were moving, as if I were riding my daddy’s enormous penis, and as soon as I understood what was happening, the vibration in the fabric seemed to intensify.
I sobbed, and moaned, and understood in an instant what Ashley had experienced the previous night. My daddies had just waited until morning to give me my “reward.”
I tried to put my hands down between my thighs, suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation. Only then did I remember that my wrists remained bound to the bar set in the wall. My hips bucked wildly, riding desperately, trying to somehow change the sensation in hope of making it at least ease a tiny bit, give me a rhythm to follow.
My eyes went wide because as soon as I did that, the vibration did assume a cadence, a pulse. An intense buzzing against my clit gave way to a tiny lull, and then another surge. My hips followed, and I cried out with the rhythm, but that didn’t make it easier, because it made me start to come: a climax that felt like it would rip my body apart.
Again I rattled the chain that tethered me to the wall, sobbing for mercy as much as in gratitude for the orgasm. It went on and on, and somewhere in the midst of it, the memory floated in that my daddies had told me to think about something… to figure something out…
Why I’m chained to the wall.Thisis why.Daddies chained up bad girls to remind them what they were.
“Good girl,” said Daddy Jacob from behind me.
I cried out in alarm and turned my head back over my shoulder, my backside still moving, squirming, trying to find all the sensation the terrible, wonderful panties could give me. In the dim light, I saw both of my daddies standing there, next to my bed. Neither of them had any clothes on, and both of their huge cocks stood out arrogantly from their muscular laps as they stroked them slowly.
“Keep going, sweetheart,” Daddy Phil said. “You’re going to come ten times now.”
“Oh, God,” I sobbed, as I came for the second time, my back arching and my eyes shamefully fixed on the enormous penises in my daddies’ hands. “I… I… can’t… I just…”
My words trailed off into a cry of helpless, forced pleasure. The panties had changed their rhythm, slightly, and it brought on my third orgasm. I tried to remember what I had read about girls who could have multiple orgasms. It hadn’t seemed like a real thing—especially not for me, when I had thought I probably fell into the part of the female population who couldn’t even haveoneclimax.
I shifted my body, trying to get a better look at my daddies’ rigid cocks, but I had forgotten about the cuffs around my wrists, and when the restraint stopped my motion, I remembered again… I had figured it out… I was the kind of girl who got chained to the wall and forced to orgasm until her body couldn’t accept any more pleasure.
The stimulation in the panties changed again, slightly, and I felt the fabric tightening somehow around my bottom, reminding me of my whipping. The buzzing on my clit got more intense. I came again, whimpering to see how very hard my bear daddy and my wolf daddy had gotten, watching me learn my lesson in this completely new way.
I lost count, then. I felt suspended on a cloud of pleasure that floated in between the chain that bound me to the wall and my daddies on the other side of the bed. I lay on my back, thrusting my hips shamelessly and helplessly upward with each pulse of the terrible vibration between my thighs. I closed my eyes as more orgasms took hold, each one now drawing a cry for mercy from my chest.
“Look at your daddies, honey,” growled Daddy Jacob. “Look at the cocks that you’re going to have in your pussy when we take those panties down.”
I opened my eyes, and I saw them, jutting so far out, beneath those impossibly hard abs. I wanted them—both of them. I thought of what it would feel like if my daddies decided to do the thing I could hardly imagine without a thrill of terror… if they chose to use me at the same time, filling me much, much too full.
That terrible thought, with the mingled need and fear it brought on, sent me over the cliff again, crying out, my eyes rising to look my daddies in their faces. The hungry daddy expressions I saw there, the sheer masculine force, made the climax go on and on, or maybe to happen over and over. I sobbed and twisted, moving my backside shamefully, suddenly wanting to feel the bruises from Daddy Phil’s leather belt, to remind me that I was my daddies’ fuck toy, the kind who got put in punishment panties and chained to her wall.
“That’s eleven,” Daddy Phil said, his mouth turning up into a smile, just for an instant. I had had my eyes on Daddy Jacob, and I saw him turn his attention over to my dresser, where I noticed a screen that my daddies must have brought in with them. I let out a little whimper when I realized that the image on the screen wasme, lying there restrained and helplessly coming in my panties, the infrared camera image glowing orange down there. I felt my forehead crease hard when I realized that, like Ashley, I must have made an enormous wet spot, coming so much.
Even worse, in the upper right of the screen there was a number—10—and beneath it another slightly smaller one, along with the phraseORGASM COUNT. Eleven, just as Daddy Phil had said.
“Okay,” Daddy Jacob said. “You can go ahead and stop the panties. I’m going to fuck her first.”
As Daddy Phil stepped over to the dresser and reached for the screen, I felt Daddy Jacob’s weight settle onto the bed. I turned from watching what my wolf daddy was doing to look up at my looming bear daddy. I swallowed hard. The way he had just asserted himself, like the alpha daddy, like the bear claiming his right to the forest over the wolf’s, made my tummy flip.
“Oh… Daddy,” I whispered. “Please… can you… can I…”
Daddy Jacob gazed down at me and shook his head. “You need Daddy’s cock in your little pussy now. You know it.”
I let out a sob, because I did. Daddy Jacob lay down behind me, his eyes glittering from the little bit of light that filtered in from the hall. I felt his hands at the waistband of my punishment panties, starting to tug them down over my hips. Did it mean my punishment was over?
