Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Daddy Bill’s cock pressed against my lips. The taste of him flooded my senses as he pushed inside: salty, with his own musk. I’d given my share of head, even before Leo, and I’d gotten used to the taste of a man’s hardness. Something about the way Daddy Bill thrust into my mouth as if he owned it changed the flavor for me, though. The darkness of the masculine note in it, the hint of shame and naughtiness, made me whimper around him.
He pressed just two or three inches inside at first, patient and controlled, clearly meaning to let me adjust to the intrusion. To my horror, I found myself wanting more—wanting to show my new daddy that I knew I had to be a good girl, or I would get another paddling. I couldn’t bear that, I knew. So I had to please my daddy with my little mouth, make it feel good for his huge cock.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his hand still gentle in my hair. “Just like that. Good girl.”
Behind me, Ed’s fingers returned between my legs and I moaned around Bill’s cock. The vibration must have felt good because Bill groaned softly and pushed a little deeper.
“We’re going to train this mouth properly,” Bill said, his voice steady despite the obvious arousal. “You’ve used it as a weapon, as a manipulation tool. But your mouth belongs to your daddies now.”
I felt Daddy Ed’s fingers slide further back, trailing through the wetness at the opening of my aching sheath before moving to that forbidden place I’d never let anyone touch. My whole body went rigid, my teeth almost closing around Daddy Bill’s cock as Ed’s fingertip pressed against my anus.
“No,” I tried to say, but the word came out muffled and incomprehensible around the thickness filling my mouth.
“This little hole is going to be very important to your reformation, Little Seventy-One,” Daddy Ed said, his voice taking on the patronizing, instructional tone that made everything so much more mortifying. His finger circled the tiny opening with maddening patience. “Bad girls in the program receive anal training as part of their rehabilitation. Your body needs to understand that every part of you belongs to your daddies now.”
I whimpered around Daddy Bill’s cock, trying to shake my head, but his grip in my hair tightened, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
“Deeper now,” Daddy Bill said, and pushed further into my mouth. The head of his cock pressed against the back of my throat and I gagged, tears streaming down my face. He withdrew slightly, then pushed in again, training me with patient, relentless pressure. “Relax your throat. Breathe through your nose. Good girl.”
Behind me, Daddy Ed’s finger pressed more insistently against my anus. I felt something slick and cool—lubricant, I realized with fresh horror—and then the tip of his finger breached the little bud of my anus. The sensation was overwhelming, terribly wrong in how distressingly good it felt, a violation that made me want to scream except I couldn’t because my mouth was full of Daddy Bill’s cock.
“Such a tight little hole,” Daddy Ed murmured, working his finger deeper with agonizing slowness. “We’re going to train it properly. By the time we’re done with you, you’ll beg your daddies to fuck your ass.”
The words sent a fresh wave of shame and arousal through me. My pussy clenched desperately around nothing, aching to be filled while Daddy Ed violated me from behind and Daddy Bill fucked my face.
Daddy Bill’s rigid tool pushed deeper, and this time when I gagged he held me there for a moment, his cock pressing into my throat until I couldn’t breathe. Then he withdrew, letting me gasp around him before pushing in again.
“That’s it,” he said. “You’re learning. Your mouth is just another hole for Daddy to use.”
Daddy Ed’s finger moved inside me with practiced skill, stretching me, preparing me for something I couldn’t let myself think about. Then I felt him withdraw, and I heard him moving to the cabinet against the wall. The sound of a drawer opening made my stomach clench with dread.
“This is a small plug,” Daddy Ed said, returning to his position behind me. “Just to get you started. We’ll work up to larger sizes as your training progresses.”
I felt something hard and unyielding press against my lubricated opening—bigger than his finger, undeniably solid. I tried to clench against it, but Daddy Ed just kept up the pressure, steady and inexorable, until I cried out as I felt its bulk stretch me much too wide. Then suddenly it slipped inside, my body accepting the intrusion, and the narrow part of the plug let my muscles close around it. The base settled against my paddled bottom, keeping it lodged inside.
The fullness was overwhelming. Mortifying and intrusive and impossible to ignore. Every tiny movement made me aware of it, of how completely they’d violated me.