Page 47 of A Bad Girl's Needs

“Thank you for the privilege of serving you tonight, Daddy Victor,” I whispered, before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the tip of his shaft. The musky scent of him filled my nostrils, making my head spin.

I moved to the next chair, where Daddy Reggie waited. His massive frame seemed to dwarf the throne-like seat, and I felt tiny as I knelt before him. Again, I parted his robe, revealing his impressive manhood. “Thank you for the privilege of serving you tonight, Daddy Reggie,” I murmured, placing a reverent kiss on his cock.

One by one, I made my way around the semicircle. Daddy Lawrence, his salt-and-pepper hair lending him a distinguished air. Daddy Tom, whose boyish grin belied the intensity in his eyes. Daddy William, always impeccably groomed, even in this setting. And finally, Daddy Kwame, his ebony skin a striking contrast to the white of his teeth as he smiled down at me.

To each, I offered the same words of gratitude, the same soft kiss. By the time I reached the last chair, my lips tingled and my core ached with need. The plug in my anus seemed somehow to ground me, to tie me to my own special daddy, even as it tormented me.

As I finished greeting the last of the daddies, I felt Daddy Daniel’s presence behind me, his warmth almost radiating through the sheer fabric of my babydoll nightgown. His hand came to rest on my shoulder, firm and possessive.

“Amy,” he said, his voice low and commanding, “kneel before me.”

I turned, my heart pounding in my chest, and sank to my knees in front of Daddy Daniel. I barely noticed the softness of the carpet against my knees, my attention entirely focused on the imposing figure before me. His black bathrobe hung open, revealing tantalizing glimpses of his muscular chest and the trail of dark hair that led down to his impressive manhood.

Daddy Daniel’s ice-blue eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense and penetrating. I felt as though he could see right through me, into the deepest recesses of my soul. The air in the Hall of Pleasure seemed to crackle with tension, the other daddies watching our interaction with rapt attention.

“Gentlemen,” Daddy Daniel addressed the room, his voice carrying easily in the hushed space, “as I said, my Amy has taken a significant step forward in her rehabilitation. She’s shown remarkable progress in her submission and her willingness to serve.”

A murmur of approval rippled through the assembled daddies. I felt a flush of pride at Daddy Daniel’s words, even as a part of me quailed at what I knew must come next.

Daddy Daniel’s hand came to rest on the top of my head, his fingers tangling gently in my hair. “However,” he continued, his tone taking on a sterner edge, “we must remember that at her core, Amy will always be a bad girl. It’s in her nature, isn’t it, Amy?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of expectation pressing down on me. “Y-yes, Daddy,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Louder,” Daddy Daniel commanded, his grip in my hair tightening slightly. “I want everyone to hear you admit it.”

Drawing a shaky breath, I raised my voice. “Yes, Daddy. It’s true. I’ll always be a bad girl.”

The words hung in the air, a confession and a promise all at once. I felt as if I had laid bare not just my body but my very essence for all to see.

Daddy Daniel’s expression softened slightly, a hint of approval in his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmured, his smile widening a little at the paradox, before he addressed me more directly.

His fingers tightened in my hair, tilting my head back to meet his gaze, warm despite the force of his grip. “And do you know what that means, Amy? That you’ll always be a bad girl?”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. The air in the Hall of Pleasure felt thick and heavy, pressing down on me from all sides. I could almost feel the other daddies leaning forward in their chairs, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. I sensed the weight of their collective gaze on my barely covered form, the sheer fabric of the babydoll nightgown doing very little to conceal my nakedness.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, my voice barely audible even in the hushed room. “I know what it means.”

Daddy Daniel’s grip tightened slightly, a reminder of his control. “And what is that, Amy? Tell me.”

I licked my lips nervously, feeling heat rise in my cheeks as I formed the words. “It means… it means I can only be fucked with a very sore bottom, Daddy.”

A low chuckle rippled through the assembled daddies, sending a shiver down my spine. Daddy Daniel’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression stern. “Louder, Amy. I want everyone to hear you say it.”

Drawing a shaky breath, I raised my voice, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “It means I can only be fucked with a very sore bottom, Daddy!”

My declaration echoed in the ornate room, bouncing off the mirrored walls and coming back to me, as if the very space itself was mocking my admission. I felt my face flush hot with shame and arousal, the conflicting emotions swirling within me like a tempest.

Daddy Daniel nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes. “That’s right, Amy. And it’s time we reminded you of that fact.” He turned to address the other daddies, his voice carrying easily through the room. “Gentlemen, would you be so kind as to help me prepare our bad girl for her evening? I think she needs to be strapped to the spanking bench so I can get her ready for your cocks.”

CHAPTER 24

Amy

A chorus of eager agreement filled the air. I turned my head over my shoulder to see the six daddies rise from their chairs, their bathrobes falling open to reveal their impressive physiques. They approached me with predatory grace, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Strong hands gripped my arms, lifting me effortlessly to my feet. I gasped as I felt myself being carried the short distance toward the imposing spanking bench in the center of the semicircle. The plug in my bottom shifted with each movement, sending jolts of sensation straight to my pussy.

They positioned me carefully over the padded leather surface. My skin’s heat seemed all the greater against the smooth, cool top of the bench. Daddy Victor and Daddy Reggie took charge of my arms, stretching them out in front of me and securing my wrists with the sturdy leather cuffs.

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