Page 34 of A Bad Girl's Needs

Daddy Victor’s laugh was low and knowing. “Ah, I see. Wondering if he’d enjoy watching you take this big toy in your greedy cunt, are you?”

His words made me gasp, the image so vivid in my mind I could almost believe Daddy Daniel was right there in the room with us. I nodded, unable to deny it.

“Well, you naughty little slut,” Daddy Victor purred, his voice low and dangerous. “You might be interested to know that he very well could be watching right now.”

I gasped, my head whipping around to look at him over my shoulder. “W-what do you mean?” I stammered, my heart racing.

Daddy Victor smirked, his hand coming down to deliver another stinging slap to my upturned bottom. “Did you really think the Institute wouldn’t have cameras set up all over the place? In the cells, the showers, the punishment rooms… even here in the guesthouse?”

My mind reeled at this revelation. Cameras? Everywhere? That meant… oh, God. Every degrading act, every punishment, every shameful moment of pleasure—it had all been recorded. And not just recorded, but potentially watched in real time by… by who? The other daddies? The Institute staff?

Daddy Daniel?

The thought sent an unexpected jolt of arousal through my core, making me clench again around the dildo still buried inside me. Daddy Victor noticed, of course, and chuckled darkly.

“Oh, you like that idea, don’t you?” he teased, slowly rotating the toy inside me. “The thought of Daddy Daniel watching as I use your slutty little body… it turns you on, doesn’t it?”

CHAPTER 17

Amy

I whimpered, unable to deny Daddy Victor’s accurate analysis of my response. The idea of Daddy Daniel’s eyes on me, seeing me used by his fellow daddies…

As Daddy Victor pulled the dildo from my pussy and replaced it with his cock, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Afterward, whenever the daddies punished me or fucked me, my mind went back to the irresistible idea.

To my surprise and often to my mortification, I started to imagine Daddy Daniel watching every time another daddy used me, and worse, I found it so intensely arousing I could hardly control myself.

I was getting better at keeping myself from coming until and unless I was told to climax, but every time I imagined Daddy Daniel watching from some luxurious mansion or hotel, it became exponentially more difficult.

The first time it happened after that session with Daddy Victor, I was bent over a spanking horse in one of the punishment rooms. Daddy Kwame, who had arrived the previous day, stood behind me, the leather strap in his hand whistling through the air before connecting with my upturned bottom. Each stinging blow sent shockwaves of pain radiating through my body, but beneath the burning ache, I felt an unmistakable heat building between my thighs.

As the strapping continued, my mind began to wander. I pictured Daddy Daniel lounging in a deep leather armchair, perhaps in some opulent penthouse suite overlooking a glittering cityscape. In my mind’s eye, I could see him leaning forward, his intelligent blue eyes fixed on a large screen before him. On that screen, displayed in high definition, was me—my pale skin flushed pink, my bottom growing redder with each strike of the strap, my face contorted in a mixture of pain and unwelcome pleasure.

The image was so vivid, so real, that I could almost hear Daddy Daniel’s low growl of approval as he watched me take my punishment. In my mind, I saw his hand moving to the fly of his tailored trousers, slowly unzipping them to free his hardening cock. My mouth watered at the thought, remembering the weight of him on my tongue, the salty taste of his skin.

As Daddy Kwame continued to rain blows down on my tender flesh, I imagined Daddy Daniel stroking himself, his large hand wrapping around his thick shaft. I pictured him leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the screen as he pleasured himself to the sight of my degradation.

Oh, how I wished he were here instead of wherever he really was. I longed to feel his strong hands in my hair, guiding my mouth onto his cock as Daddy Kwame whipped me. The fantasy grewso powerful, so all-consuming, that I could almost taste Daddy Daniel’s pre-cum on my lips.

My hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against the padded leather of the spanking horse as I sought some relief for the burning need building within me. Each crack of the strap against my bottom sent jolts of electricity straight to my core, and I found myself teetering dangerously close to the edge of orgasm.

“Please,” I whimpered, though I didn’t know whether I meant to beg Daddy Kwame to stop or Daddy Daniel to be there.

“Please,” I breathed again, my voice barely audible over the rhythmic slap of leather against flesh.

Daddy Kwame paused, his hand resting on the small of my back. “What was that, little slut?” he asked, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

I bit my lip, unsure how to answer. How could I explain the vivid fantasy playing out in my mind? The image of Daddy Daniel watching me, stroking himself as he observed my punishment?

Before I could formulate a response, Daddy Kwame’s large hand gripped my hair, yanking my head back. “I asked you a question,” he growled, his breath hot against my ear.

“I… I was thinking about sucking cock, Daddy,” I confessed, my cheeks burning with shame.

Daddy Kwame chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that made my pussy clench with need. “Is that so?” he mused, his free hand trailing down my spine to cup my burning bottom. “Well, we can’t have you distracted during your punishment, can we?”

With that, he released my hair and moved around to the front of the spanking horse. I heard the rustle of fabric, the sound of a zipper being lowered. My heart beat faster as I realized what was about to happen.

Daddy Kwame’s massive, dark-skinned cock sprang free, mere inches from my face. It was an impressive sight—thick and long, with prominent veins along its length, it loomed before me, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum at the tip. My mouth watered at the sight, even as my heart raced with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

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