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)
“But Daddy,” I said, hearing my little-girl voice become petulant, as if some part of me had started to lean into this performance, “why are they called punishment panties if they’re a reward?”
Daddy Phil tilted his chin and raised his eyebrows in a warning sort of way that made my heart skip a beat.
“Things don’t have to be just one thing or another, do they, Marianne,” he asked, his voice becoming serious.
“No, Daddy,” I said, a fearful note creeping into my tone, “but I just don’t understand!” I clutched at the backs of my knees and squirmed on the bed, my body seemingly wanting to get in on the sassy little girl act.
“You’re not going to understand, honey,” said Daddy Jacob’s voice from the doorway. I felt the blood rush into my cheeks as I realized what he must have seen when I had fidgeted a moment before, the way my little pussy must have looked with me spread like this on my daddies’ instructions.” Not until you’ve worn them for a night.”
I peered at him between my upraised knees. Why did they both have to be so damn gorgeous? It made the question of what all of this meant so much more difficult.
Daddy Jacob stepped into the room. He had changed into his jeans and his white t-shirt to do the dishes, and he had a few little spots of water on his chest that only showed his pecs and abs to better advantage. I swallowed hard as he sat on the end of the bed, looking into my eyes as if to gauge every detail of my reaction to my daddies’ degradation.
“But Daddy Phil is going to explain a little bit and tell you a few things your daddies want you to think about when you wear your punishment panties.”
I turned to look at my blue-eyed daddy. He was holding the underwear out, offering them to me.
“You can go ahead and put them on,” he said.
I took my lower lip firmly between my teeth and chewed on it, my brow creasing hard as I gazed into his eyes. Finally I let go of my knees and let my feet sink to the bed as I accepted the panties from Daddy Phil’s hands.
Like a little girl, I raised my feet and bent my knees. Another blush spread across my face, because I could see Daddy Jacob’s eyes fixed on the even naughtier view he had of my pussy and my sore bottom hole. I managed to get the panties over my feet and up to my knees. I could feel even before I started to go through the awkward process of twisting and squirming to get them all the way up how the thick, soft fabric would encase my privates in a sort of woven barrier.
“Now spread yourself open again,” Daddy Phil instructed.
The panties covered me so completely that it hardly seemed embarrassing to re-assume the naughty posture.
With his gaze locked on mine, then, Daddy Phil put his hand down between my thighs, and rubbed firmly atop the punishment panties, right where it should have made me shudder with desire.
I felt nothing. Nothing at all.
CHAPTER 21
Marianne
“But…” I whispered. I should have felt something. Even just a little pressure. I didn’t feel numb—when I squirmed a little, experimentally, I could feel that part of me, moving against the cotton, except…
Except that even though I could see Daddy Phil’s fingers moving exactly where they should be driving me crazy, making me scream with the pleasure I so desperately craved, I couldn’t seem to feel it at all.
“Your punishment panties make it impossible for you to play with your pussy, sweetheart,” he said, gently and condescendingly, as if to console me for not being able to feel his caressing hand.
My lips parted and then closed as I swallowed hard. I had thought my daddies would solve the mystery of Ashley’s wet spot. Instead, they had only made it darker.
“Go ahead and try to put your hand in there,” Daddy Jacob said. He seemed to have a little chuckle in his voice, which made it very clear that for some unknown reason, my effort would fail. Biting my lip, though, I followed my daddy’s instruction: I let go of my right knee and moved my hand to my waist. Even the touch of my fingertips on the bare skin above the waistband of the punishment panties sent a thrill of need through me, so frustrated had my pussy become, but when I tried to push them further down, inside the elastic, I found that it wouldn’t yield. In fact, it didn’t feel like elastic at all, but rather like a steel band, encased somehow in the thick fabric.
“Wh—?” I said, so surprised and mystified that I didn’t even complete the word. It didn’t feel tight, it just felt solid and unyielding to my fingers’ pressure, while still feeling soft against my skin.