Page 3 of A Bad Girl's Needs

CHAPTER 2

Amy

Daddy James spoke with a note of warning in his voice.

“Amy,” he said, his voice low and stern, “I know this is difficult for you, but you need to cooperate. The doctor needs to examine you thoroughly to ensure you’re ready for your training.”

I bit my lip, tears of frustration and humiliation welling in my eyes. The cold, clinical touch of the speculum against the tiny button of my anus made me want to scream, but I knew it would only make things worse. I tried to steady my breathing as Dr. Reeves slowly inserted the device into my anus, the stretch burning and uncomfortable.

“There we go,” he murmured, adjusting the speculum. “Now, let’s have a look.”

I stared up at the ceiling, trying to disconnect from what was happening to my body. The harsh exam room lights seemed to bore into my skull, and I could hear the whir of machinerysomewhere in the background. The air was cool on my exposed skin, raising goosebumps across my flesh.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Reeves removed the speculum and sat back. “Everything looks good,” he announced. “She’s in excellent condition for training.”

Daddy James nodded, his large hand still resting on my shoulder. I could feel the heat of his palm through my skin, a reminder of his constant presence. He turned to the doctor, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Doctor,” he said, “given Amy’s level of arousal, do you think it might be advisable for her to have an orgasm at this point? To get some of that pent-up heat out of her system before I paddle her?”

Dr. Reeves considered for a moment, his latex-clad fingers tapping thoughtfully against his chin. “Yes, definitely. A very good idea. We need a baseline ceiling for her responsiveness at this point in her training. It will also definitely make the paddling more effective.”

I felt my face flush an even deeper shade of crimson. The idea that they would force an orgasm from me, as casually as if they were discussing the weather, made my stomach churn with a mixture of humiliation and unwanted excitement.

Dr. Reeves wheeled his cart closer, and I heard the soft clinking of instruments. When he turned back to face me, he held a sleek white plastic vibrator in his hand. The sight of it made my breath catch in my throat.

“Now, Amy,” Dr. Reeves said, his tone maddeningly professional, “you’re going to feel some stimulation. Try to relax and let it happen naturally.”

I wanted to protest, to tell them both to go to hell, but the words caught in my throat. As the doctor brought the vibrator closer to my exposed sex, I felt my body betray me once again. My hips shifted almost imperceptibly, seeking contact with it before I could stop myself.

The vibrator’s first touch sent a jolt through my body, making me gasp involuntarily. Dr. Reeves moved it in slow, teasing circles around my clit, the low hum of the device filling the air. I bit my lip hard, determined not to make a sound, but I couldn’t stop the way my hips twitched and rocked against the restraints.

“Daddy James,” Dr. Reeves said casually, “why don’t you stimulate her breasts? It will enhance the experience.”

Daddy James’ large hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. They hardened instantly under his touch, and I felt a fresh wave of shame wash over me. His fingers kneaded the soft flesh, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer squeezes that made me squirm.

“Such beautiful, full breasts,” Daddy James murmured, his blue eyes locked on mine. “Tell me, Amy, have you always been self-conscious about your curves?”

I turned my head away, refusing to answer, but he persisted. “I can see it in your eyes, sweetheart. The way you try to hide your body, even now. But you don’t need to be embarrassed. Your lush figure is exactly what wealthy daddies are looking for.”

His words sent a confusing mix of emotions swirling through me—humiliation, anger, and to my dismay, a flicker of pride. His impossibly skillful hands continued their exploration ofmy breasts, his fingers teasing and pinching my nipples as Dr. Reeves worked the vibrator between my legs. The dual sensations were overwhelming, and I felt my resolve crumbling.

“Tell me about your first time, Amy,” Daddy James said softly, his breath hot against my ear. “Who was the lucky boy who got to take your virginity?”

I shook my head, trying to resist, but the words spilled out anyway. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t anyone special,” I gasped, my hips bucking involuntarily against the vibrator. “Just a guy… from the warehouse.”

“Mm, I see,” Daddy James murmured, his thumbs circling my areolas. “And how was it? Did he make you feel good?”

I bit my lip, shame and arousal warring within me. “It was… okay,” I admitted reluctantly. “Quick. Kind of… disappointing.”

Daddy James chuckled, the sound low and knowing. “I thought as much. You see, Amy, those boys don’t know how to truly please a woman. Not like the wealthy daddies who will be buying you at auction.”

His words sent a shiver through me, equal parts fear and excitement. The vibrator’s buzz seemed to intensify, and I felt a familiar tension building in my core.

“Oh, they’re going to love you, sweetheart,” Daddy James continued, his fingers expertly kneading my breasts. “These full, luscious breasts will drive them wild. And these wide, womanly hips?” His hand traced the curve of my waist, settling on my hip. “Perfect for bearing children, if that’s what your future daddy desires.”

I whimpered, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions surging through me. The vibrator hummed relentlessly against my clit, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward. My hips rocked involuntarily, seeking more contact.

“That’s it, Amy,” Daddy James murmured, his beard tickling my ear. “Let yourself feel it. Your body knows what it needs, even if your mind is still resisting.”

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