Page 7 of A Bad Girl's Needs

My breath caught in my throat as I took in the impressive physiques of the men circling behind us. Broad shoulders, chiseled abs, strong arms—each daddy looked like he could snap me in half without breaking a sweat. The air in the room seemed to thicken, heavy with the mingled scents of arousal and anticipation.

I couldn’t see the daddy who positioned himself behind me, but I could feel the heat radiating from his body. My skin prickled with goosebumps, hypersensitive after my recent punishment. When his large hands gripped my hips, I couldn’t suppress a whimper of need.

Without conscious thought, I arched my back, presenting my freshly waxed pussy. I was beyond shame now, beyond pride or defiance. There was only the aching emptiness between my legs and the promise of fullness mere inches away.

“Please,” I heard myself whisper, my voice barely audible to my own ears. “Please, Daddy.”

CHAPTER 4

Daniel

I settled back onto my sofa to watch the video feed from the Institute’s newest program, something that seemed highly innovative, calledYour Bad Girl. The buy-in seemed steep, at two million dollars for the first year’s membership, but I had to confess myself intrigued by the marketing materials, and more than willing to watch the video feed they’d offered megratis. Institute streams had never let me down before.

Nor had the Institute’s more tangible offering ever disappointed me; the year I had spent dominating Daria, my first (and so far only) concubine had been worth every penny of the four million and change I had spent buying her at auction. The busyness of a CEO’s life, however, had meant that I’d always had a niggling regret about not quite getting my money’s worth. This was a new idea of the Institute’s, a time-share for dominant daddies, where you paid a steep two million buy-in and then a much more reasonable half a mil per year after that. Intriguing, certainly.

It only took a minute or two of watching Miss Frieda’s ‘final exam’ for her Bad Girls to know I would buy in. The only question was which one I would buy a piece of: which of the gorgeous, naked young woman playing with herself, getting whipped for getting too close to orgasm, and—it seemed—about to be fucked by a daddy she clearly had never met before.

I watched, transfixed, with my iron-hard cock in my hand as the camera panned around to the girls’ faces. As always I couldn’t help admiring the incredible technology, married to amazing production, that allowed for these marketing streams. This training room was clearly one of those the Institute had fitted out with their 360x360video tech, so that the producers in the control room could show viewers like me everything we might want to see.

At the moment, after the pan of the bad girls’ desperately blushing, needy faces, that meant a tracking shot from above. The camera, or whatever virtual lens the Institute had employed from Selecta Media’s arsenal of video technology, showed the progress of each daddy’s enormous erection into the waxed pussy of the bad girl he had just straddled.

Of course, as usual, whoever handled the compositing was adding helpful flags, providing the names of the girls along with their current arousal levels. In this case, the flags also had a brief blurb about the crime that had consigned these naughty young women to the Institute’s care, through Selecta’s corporate justice system.

Zoe: jewel thief, currently at 9.3/10.

Jenna: embezzler, currently at 9.5/10.

Amy: tech thief, currently at 9.2/10.

Amy… something about her brown eyes, about her cry of helpless pleasure, as the shot went into a split screen of the huge daddy’s erection beginning to fuck her adorable pussy and the naughty-girl pout on her face as she received the cock… I could hardly have said why, but I knew.

I picked up my phone and opened the Institute app. The only question was how soon I could schedule my first stay at the Institute guesthouse.

Amy

I sobbed as the man I couldn’t see, who I wouldn’t have recognized to pick out of a line-up, fucked me hard and fast. His cock stretched me open, filling me completely with each powerful thrust. My body betrayed me, responding eagerly to the intrusion despite my mind’s desperate attempts to resist.

“That’s it, little one,” the daddy growled, his voice deep and unfamiliar. “Pretend you’re a good girl for me, and take that cock like you know how to please your daddy.”

Shame burned through me, my cheeks flushing hot as I realized how wet I was, how easily I accepted him inside me. The slick sounds of our coupling filled the air, mingling with the moans and whimpers of the other girls around me. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny the pleasure building within me.

Miss Frieda’s heels clicked against the floor as she circled us, her voice cutting through the cacophony of carnal sounds.“Remember, girls, you are not to come without permission. Control yourselves.”

I bit my lip hard, trying to focus on anything but the delicious friction of the daddy’s cock sliding in and out of me. But it was impossible to ignore the way he hit that perfect spot deep inside with every thrust, sending jolts of electricity through my body.

To my left, I heard Zoe cry out. “Please, Miss Frieda! I can’t… I’m so close!”

“No, Zoe!” our stern trainer ordered. “Daddy John, stop fucking that naughty slut. Just keep her on the cock until you feel her come off the boil.”

Miss Frieda paced around the writhing mass of bodies, her eyes darting between the handheld device and the scene before her. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, punctuated by the desperate whimpers and moans of the bad girls as they teetered on the edge of release.

“Daddy Kevin,” Miss Frieda called out, her voice sharp and authoritative. “Slow down with Amy. Her readings are spiking dangerously high.”

I felt the daddy behind me adjust his pace, his thrusts becoming agonizingly slow and deliberate. Each drag of his cock against my sensitive walls sent shivers through my body, building the tension without pushing me over the edge. I whimpered, torn between relief and frustration.

“That’s better,” Miss Frieda nodded, her eyes fixed on the handheld. “Now, Daddy Michael, pick up the pace with Jenna. She’s not quite where we need her yet.”

Across the circle, I saw Jenna’s eyes roll back as her daddy increased his tempo. Her breasts bounced with each powerful thrust, her fingers clawing at the mat beneath her.

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