Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 66851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
And Ashley would be fast asleep. I just wanted to see. If I turned one of the little flashlights that sat in a box on an office shelf on for just a moment, and took a look, no one would be the wiser.
Bad girl. I heard the words in my head, and though a small part of me shied away, much more of me welcomed the idea. My daddies had left me alone in that stupid office all day. Everything I had felt and thought from about nine am until about two pm, about how brave Daddy Jacob and Daddy Phil—and Ashley’s daddies, too—had to be, and how skillful, and how even though they had been so strict and so degrading and so dominant with me yesterday, they clearly cared about me… all of that positive emotion seemed to have retreated in the face of my need to know something about Ashley’s panties.
I got a flashlight. Made of black metal, its coldness against my fingers seemed to carry a strange, almost electric shock into my nervous system. I felt a crease start on my forehead as I realized why: I had started doing something naughty. My intentions for the thin, oddly heavy thing in my hand were bad girl intentions. My daddies hadn’t specifically told me not to do this, but how could I have any doubt what would happen to my already sore bottom if they figured it out?
I had a good plan, though: I needed to get my dental floss from the little kit of toiletries they’d given me that morning. I had something stuck in my teeth.
You’re such a good liar, said the bad girl part of my mind, approvingly. You’re so smart. They’re big and strong, but they’re not as smart as you are. The fact that I had no idea, really, how I would compare on an IQ test with my new daddies, didn’t matter at all, nor did my recollection that actually they did seem pretty intelligent.
I knew which door was mine and which was Ashley’s, but surely a new girl could get confused, couldn’t she? Especially when her daddies had used her so very thoroughly the previous day, and presumably addled her wits at least a little. It wouldn’t even matter if the firehouse had surveillance cameras that could see in the dark, because I only needed to pretend I had opened the wrong door.
There you go, said the encouraging voice. Thinking fast, on the fly.
I switched on the flashlight as I entered the sleeping quarters hallway. I closed the door behind me. Three doors: one to the bunkroom where all four daddies had their bunks, one to my room, and one to Ashley’s room. I didn’t know if the hallway had a surveillance camera, but I made a little show of confusion, looking back and forth among the doors before I went to Ashley’s and opened it carefully, trying to do it the way I would if I were pretty sure it was my room but still didn’t want to disturb the occupant if I was wrong.
I shined the flashlight inside, and I had to push down a sobbing gasp as I saw. I had noticed the bar affixed to the wall next to my bed and supposed it must represent some required accommodation for safety. Ashley’s wall had the same bar—her room was identical to mine in every way—but what her daddies clearly used it for didn’t have anything to do with safety.
She lay over on her side, her naked back showing the vertebrae that led down to the strange, thick panties that encased her backside, one knee pulled up. In front of her, she had her hands restrained in stout webbing cuffs, colored the same pink as my paddle. Those cuffs had been secured to the bar beside the bed so that, I instantly understood, Ashley couldn’t reach down to touch herself.
And yet, in the light coming from the heavy little cylinder in my hand, I could see something on the gusset of my fellow SRD’s punishment panties that made me bite my lip. A wet spot. A very big wet spot, the size of an old silver dollar.
CHAPTER 12
Marianne
“How was your day, honey?” Daddy Jacob asked.
I did everything I could to keep from my face the confused, incoherent monologue that had run in my head for the past twenty minutes.
Please don’t, Daddy. Please not the punishment panties. Please. Please… please, the punishment panties.
They must have a secret. What’s the secret? What are they? What’s inside them? Why did Ashley say she had a date with them? Why did Ashley moan?
Why did she have a wet spot down there? Why did she have such a big wet spot down there? What do they do? What do they do down there?
A huge part of me wanted to smile and say, “Great, Daddy!” I didn’t really even know why, because how could sitting alone and naked in an office represent a great day? I wondered if I actually wanted to fool Daddy Jacob—and Daddy Phil, who stood beside him, in front of the desk which faced the door through which the enormous men in their crisp uniforms had just come. Maybe I just didn’t want to give any sign that I had done anything naughty, or had any naughty thoughts—that would have represented my usual clever bad girl way of handling things, right?