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)
A moan escaped my throat—high and desperate and nothing like any sound I’d ever made before.
“Show her how wet she is,” Daddy Ed said, his analytical voice somehow making everything worse.
I watched in the mirror as Daddy Bill’s finger slid deeper, finding my entrance and circling it slowly, then pushing in to gather my slick, treasonous juices. My hips pushed forward involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more friction. The woman in the mirror did the same—her body arching, her head falling back against Daddy Ed’s shoulder.
That’s not me, I thought desperately. That’s someone else. Some other woman who gets wet when strange men touch her. Some other woman who spreads her legs and begs.
But the disconnection only made the arousal stronger. Watching it happen seemed to make it easier to get turned on, as if it were an episode in someone else’s X-rated story.
Daddy Bill withdrew his finger and brought it up in front of my face. His digit glistened with my wetness, the evidence of my body’s betrayal impossible to deny.
“Open your mouth, Little Seventy-One,” he said softly.
I stared at his finger in the mirror, my stomach clenching with fresh horror. He couldn’t mean—
“Open,” Daddy Ed said firmly, his hand tightening on my breast in warning.
My lips parted. I watched the woman in the mirror open her mouth like an obedient child, watched Daddy Bill slide his slick finger between her lips. The taste flooded my senses—musky and intimate and unmistakably mine. I’d never tasted myself before, never even thought about it. The act felt impossibly dirty, taboo in a way that made my face burn hotter than I thought possible.
“Suck,” Daddy Bill commanded.
I closed my lips around his finger and sucked, cleaning my own arousal from his skin while he watched me in the mirror with those intense brown eyes. The humiliation of it made my pussy clench, made more wetness gather between my newly bare private lips.
“Good girl,” he murmured, slowly withdrawing his finger. “You like how you taste, don’t you?”
I wanted to say no, to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. Because some terrible part of me did like it—liked the dirtiness of it, liked being made to do something so degrading.
“She’s going to love eating pussy,” Daddy Ed said conversationally, as if he were discussing the weather. His thumb continued to circle my nipple while his other hand slid down my stomach. “She’ll put that talented mouth to good use when the time comes.”
My eyes went wide in the mirror as understanding crashed over me. What Fifty-Three had said. Special duty. Whatever way the Trusty requires.
They were going to make me go down on another woman.
The image of Fifty-Three’s sharp features flashed through my mind—her knowing eyes, the way she’d looked at me across the dinner table, that comment about how pretty I was. My stomach did a complicated flip that wasn’t entirely revulsion. I’d been raised to believe that was the worst kind of naughtiness, the most shameful thing a girl could do. Two girls together—it was the kind of thing only the most depraved bad girls did.
But as Daddy Ed’s fingers found my clit and began circling it with casual skill, I felt a shudder run through my body that had little to do with his touch. I pictured Fifty-Three spread out before me, imagined being ordered to put my mouth on her most intimate places, to taste her the way I’d just tasted myself.
And God help me, I felt myself get wetter.
“She’s thinking about it,” Daddy Bill observed, his eyes locked on me in the mirror. “Look at her face. She wants it.”
“No,” I whispered, but the denial came out weak, unconvincing even to my own ears.
Daddy Ed’s fingers moved faster, building pressure that made my knees weak. “You’re going to be such a good little pussy-licker for Fifty-Three,” he said, his detached tone making the crude words even more degrading. “You’re going to make her come with that pretty mouth while we watch.”
The image crystallized in my mind with devastating clarity—me on my knees between Fifty-Three’s spread thighs, my daddies standing over us, watching their newest bad girl service their Trusty. The wrongness of it, the complete surrender it would require, sent a spike of dark arousal through me that I couldn’t deny.
My orgasm hit without warning, tearing through me with an intensity that made my legs buckle. I would have fallen if my daddies hadn’t been holding me up, their strong hands supporting my weight as I shook and gasped. I watched myself come apart in the mirror—the woman with my face lost all control, her mouth opening in a silent scream, her body convulsing between two men who owned her completely.
When the waves finally subsided, I hung limp in their grip, tears streaming down my face. The shame was overwhelming, crushing. I’d just come while thinking about eating another woman’s pussy. While my daddies watched and touched me and told me what a good little slut I was going to be.