Page 46 of A Bad Girl's Needs

Their gasps of shock and awe made me squirm, the plug shifting inside me. The whispers started up again, more furious than before. I caught snatches of their conversation—‘lucky bitch’ and ‘I wonder how many’ and ‘do you think she’ll be able to walk afterward?’

Their words should have made me feel ashamed, some remaining old-fashioned part of my mind said. They should have made me want to crawl into a hole and disappear. Instead, I felt a perverse sense of pride.

Miss Frieda walked in at that moment. “Amy,” she said, “it’s time. Come with me.”

Blushing fiercely, and trying to keep my face free of the new wince every step brought, I rose and went to the trainer.

“Wait,” I heard Zoe say. “Is Amy…”

“Is she the only one going to the guesthouse, Miss Frieda?” Lila finished, her voice full of badly masked disappointment.

“Yes, girls,” Miss Frieda said, her tone stern and decisive. “Tonight only Amy gets the daddies’ cocks in her.”

CHAPTER 23

Amy

I tried desperately, on the walk over to the guesthouse, to figure out how I felt about being the only bad girl who would be fucked tonight. To be outside, in the nude, with the thick black base of the punishment plug between my bottom cheeks, squirming at the fullness with every step, felt like I had discovered new realms of shame. The discomfort and the arousal and the sheer embarrassment all vied so urgently for my attention that I could scarcely think straight.

To my surprise, though, I also felt a real sense of… well, notguilt, maybe, but definitelysympathyfor the girls who would feel deprived tonight, because all the daddies would be usingme. I seriously didn’t think I would have felt that kind of compassion before I had gotten caught stealing and sent to Bad Girl sex prison.

Before I had met my daddy.

This must be what rehabilitation feels like, I thought, feeling a frown of confusion come onto my face at the strange realization.

Tonight… the ordeal before me… I had, kind of,wonit, as some sort of twisted reward, hadn’t I? I chewed my lower lip as we passed through the gilt double doors of the guesthouse. Six daddies. Would Daddy Daniel even be there?

Then I saw him, waiting at the top of the stairs that I knew led to the Hall of Pleasure. He wore the black bathrobe I had come to think of as a daddy’s robe, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of his muscular chest with its blond curls. He smiled as Miss Frieda led me toward him, and I saw that he held a white babydoll nightgown—the same kind Miss Frieda herself wore, though I could see that the fabric of the one in Daddy Daniel’s hands was much more sheer; I could practically see right through it. Imagining having it on, I shivered at the mental picture of how much more naked I would look in the nightgown than I already did, in the nude.

Miss Frieda’s hand on my lower back guided me up the grand staircase toward Daddy Daniel. Each step sent a jolt through my body as the massive plug shifted inside me, a constant reminder of what was to come. I could feel the weight of Daddy Daniel’s gaze as we ascended, his blue eyes raking over my exposed form with a mixture of pride and hunger that made my stomach flutter.

As we reached the top of the stairs, Daddy Daniel’s scent enveloped me—a heady mixture of sandalwood and musk that made my head spin. He smiled down at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners; simple little movements of his face that somehow filled my heart with longing.

“Hello, bad girl,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. “Are you ready for your big night?”

I nodded mutely, unable to find my voice as he unfolded the sheer white babydoll nightgown. The delicate fabric whispered against my skin as he slipped it over my head, the cool material settling around my curves like a gossamer veil. As I had anticipated, far from covering me, the transparent gown seemed to highlight every inch of my naked body beneath, framing my breasts and barely skimming the tops of my thighs.

Daddy Daniel’s hands lingered at my hips, smoothing the fabric and sending jolts of electricity through my core. I gasped softly as his fingers brushed against the base of the plug, a reminder of his claim on me even as he prepared me to service other men.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes dark with desire. “Now, let’s not keep the other daddies waiting.”

With a gentle hand on my lower back, Daddy Daniel guided me toward the ornate double doors that led to the Hall of Pleasure. The polished wood gleamed in the soft light, intricate carvings of entwined bodies adorning its surface. As the doors swung open, I felt my breath catch in my throat.

The Hall of Pleasure, as always, lived up to its name, with its sumptuous decorations in rich shades of burgundy and gold. The softness of the carpet muffled our footsteps as we entered, and the air was heavy with the scent of leather and masculine musk. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the space, their light glinting off the mirrored walls and creating the illusion of endless reflections.

In the center of the room, arranged in a semicircle, were six throne-like chairs. Each was occupied by a daddy, their powerful forms barely contained by the black bathrobes they wore. I recognized them all—Victor, Reggie, Lawrence, Tom, William,and Kwame—their eyes locked onto me with predatory intensity as Daddy Daniel led me forward.

The air seemed to crackle with tension and anticipation, above all because of what sat in the middle of the crescent formed by the daddies’ chairs: an imposing spanking bench, its polished leather surface gleaming in the warm light. The sturdy wooden frame promised both stability and exposure for whoever would be strapped to it. Thick leather cuffs dangled from strategic points, ready to secure wrists and ankles. It had a belt, as well, to pinion a bad girl around her waist and immobilize her almost completely. The sight of it sent a shiver down my spine, the mixture of fear and shameful anticipation coursing through me now familiar—but never less potent than the day I had arrived here.

Daddy Daniel’s hand on the small of my back guided me forward again, the sheer fabric of my babydoll nightgown whispering against my skin with each step. The plug in my bottom shifted as I moved, a constant reminder of Daddy Daniel’s claim on me even as I approached the other men who would use me tonight.

“Gentlemen.” Daddy Daniel’s deep voice resonated through the room. “I present to you your entertainment for the evening. Amy has made significant progress in her rehabilitation, and tonight, she’ll demonstrate just how far she’s come.”

His words sent a flush of heat to my cheeks, equal parts pride and embarrassment. I kept my eyes lowered, acutely aware of the six pairs of eyes raking over my barely covered form.

“Amy,” Daddy Daniel continued, his tone commanding, “greet each daddy properly. On your knees, kiss their cocks, and thank them for the privilege of serving them tonight.”

My heart raced as I moved toward the first chair. Daddy Victor sat there, his dark eyes gleaming with anticipation. I sank to my knees before him, the plush carpet cushioning my descent. With trembling hands, I reached for the tie of his robe, parting the fabric to reveal his already hardening cock.

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