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“Good girl… good girl,” Daddy Phil murmured. “Such a sweet pussy… Daddy’s going to come… Daddy’s going to come so hard…”
His cock flashed in and out of me. I wanted to close my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at the bar set into my wall, or the chain that secured me to it, or the cuffs around my wrists, but I couldn’t seem to shut out those reminders of what had happened to me. Daddy Phil’s big, strong hands tightened on my body, in nearly the same places Daddy Jacob had grasped when he had been the daddy with his cock in my poor little pussy. My wolf daddy had my left knee nearly to my chest, and his fingers gripped my collarbone so firmly that it made me whimper all on its own, even as I sobbed with each deep thrust of his rigid penis.
My pussy belonged to my daddies. That was what had happened to me. The faceless corporate justice system had delivered me to two strong men… two gorgeous, brave, strong men… two daddies who knew what to do with a girl like me.
My back arched hard against Daddy Phil’s rock-hard chest and his taut abs, and that sensation sent me over the edge into yet another helpless, screaming climax, just as I felt him explode inside me. His lap jerked against my bruised bottom, and his enormous cock pulsed as he filled me with my second helping of my daddies’ semen.
“There you go,” he breathed into my ear. “There you go, sweetheart. Take Daddy’s come in your little pussy.”
“Oh, God,” I whispered.
My breath still came in little pants. As the arousal began to fade from my nervous system, the discomfort grew. When Daddy Phil pulled his penis out, I whimpered. I knew, with a hot blush, that I wouldn’t be able to walk normally today.
“You can take the punishment panties off,” said Daddy Jacob. “They need to be washed by hand, so you can do that today, in the bathroom sink.”
I rolled onto my back, wincing at the soreness. To my distress, even with all the lingering pain my daddies had left, I still felt a little jolt of returning need, just at the sight of my two looming, naked daddies standing over me, looking down at me with their serious eyes.
I felt my forehead crease at the idea of being made to wash my wanton pussy juices out of my underwear, but I nodded at Daddy Jacob. My eyes flicked down to my daddies’ penises, now soft but still huge-looking, hanging down between their massive thighs, and the fire of arousal got a bit higher again. My mouth twisted to the side. I couldn’t deny it, though I definitely didn’t like it: my daddies’ dominant fucking had awakened me to a part of myself I had never imagined.
“Yes, Daddy,” I said.
* * *
The next few days went by very quickly, it felt like. I got used to working naked in the office, and I started to really enjoy the crossover times, when everyone was awake—my daddies and me, and Ashley and her daddies. Ashley and I didn’t talk about much besides pop culture and our school days—we especially didn’t talk about what it meant that we had both become sex toys for these demanding men—but I could tell that she knew, just as I did, that we shared a very deep bond, even if we never mentioned it.
Both of us had done bad things, and both of us needed our daddies to help us find our way forward. It didn’t matter, somehow, that a big part of what tied us together was so very shameful: I could see in Ashley’s eyes that at least between the two of us, that mortifying reality, of our crazy-seeming need to be severely punished and brutally fucked until we became our daddies’ little ladies, didn’t have to feel all that embarrassing.
My daddies fucked me every day, and they held to that humiliating guiding principle of only putting their cocks in me when they had rendered my backside an agony. I didn’t get another belt whipping, but I did get spanked with the paddle or one of my daddies’ hands every afternoon when they came back from their rounds. I knew that Ashley got pretty much the same thing each morning: when I got up and joined the rest of the team in the living room and kitchen area, I could always see how red her adorable bottom-cheeks, fuller than mine, looked in the lingerie her daddies allowed her.
She also looked happy, when she wasn’t trying to put on a pouty face for her daddies—something I found myself also doing, as if in a reflexive attempt to get them to go a little easier on my poor ass when they put me over their knees each afternoon. I figured it must mean that, also like my red-haired colleague, I must have a little smile on when I forgot to frown.
The fake pout seemed to come, too, from another thing I thought I could observe in Ashley’s behavior. It confused me at first, but after three or four days of living with my daddies and our colleagues I began to accept it: this whole sore-assed fuck-toy thing might be reforming my outward behavior and might make me a better girl in public—if I ever got to go out in public again—but it didn’t seem to make much difference on the inside. I stayed a defiant bad girl, in my heart, even if I knew I couldn’t really do anything rebellious thanks to the constantly looming threat of the belts around my daddies’ waists.
They didn’t let me forget it, either. Every time Daddy Jacob noticed the frowny face, he said something like, “Do you need more, honey? A whipping, maybe? Little ladies don’t pout that way.”
And my face would get hot as I let the sour expression go, but at the same time something inside glowed warm at the idea, weird as it always seemed, that I had a daddy who might whip me if I didn’t shape up my attitude.
CHAPTER25
Marianne
About a week after I had arrived, our daddies told Ashley and me that we would be fucked together that evening.
“You bad girls have been doing a great job helping out,” said Daddy Ned.
Ashley and I looked at each other and blushed. We were sitting at the big kitchen table, each of us on our cushions. I could see in my new friend’s eyes that she had caught the double meaning in her daddy’s words just as easily as I had.
We had both certainly been helping out in the office. We had lots of emails to return: Selecta seemed to run on a constant flood of them, informing each of their employees of every little regulation change. As far as I could tell, that affected our firefighter daddies on a more important level than anyone else who worked for the megacorp—literally millions of people, all over the world—because our daddies had to keep everything and everyone safe from a danger that could absolutely devastate this part of the world.
The more I got to know about our little fire station, and our daddies’ jobs, the more I saw Daddy Jacob and Daddy Phil as real heroes, even if no one would ever give them the credit they deserved. The rounds they did every day—and the ones Daddy Ned and Daddy Paul did every night—involved inspecting equipment that saw heavy use twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred sixty-five days a year.
Selecta and the other megacorps that had taken over the world’s economy over the past thirty years had developed all kinds of amazing materials to build their industrial power plants with—that’s what I read in the emails everyday, at least. But in the end the things our plant did to make modern life possible despite all the problems with the energy crisis and the climate crisis and the financial crisis required putting stresses on the equipment that meant that it stood in constant danger of failing, and neither the electronic monitoring systems nor the teams of mechanics who did the scheduled maintenance had the special skills my daddies had to pinpoint how and where a fire might start, and spread.
At least the faceless bureaucrats understood that, though—and they had sent our daddies SRDs. Ashley and me. Our daddies’ little fuck toys.
That’s where our blushes came from, of course: the real helping out we had done involved making sure our daddies’ cocks had all the pleasure they wanted and needed. More specifically, almost every day during crossover time, I had been made to “help” when Ashley got fucked by her daddies, and Ashley had been made to “help” when my daddies fucked me.
Daddy Ned liked to have his balls licked while he had his rigid manhood buried in Ashley’s ample bottom. Daddy Paul liked to put his cock in my mouth before he started to fuck his own little lady’s pussy, and then alternate between the two.
