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)
When he continued, I knew I had gotten that right, or I had at least come close to the truth.
“But you’re a lot more than that. You and Ashley are part of this team now. You take the office work off our hands and let us focus on our real job, keeping people safe. And what Daddy Phil said is important in a way that goes beyond just using your body—even though that’s definitely very important. Morale is maybe just a fancy way to say teamwork, and teamwork is the most important thing for doing our job.”
I hadn’t thought I could somehow get so horny and so emotional at the same time. The tears that sprang into my eyes at Daddy Jacob’s words caught me by surprise.
“But,” I said, my words coming out as a soft sob. “But we’re… I’m a… a bad girl, right?”
Daddy Jacob smiled gently. “In a good way, here at the firehouse. Now let’s get some sleep. Go ahead and turn over on your other side. Daddy Phil is going to put some cuffs on you, and attach them to the bar over there.”
I bit my lip. I had to make a snap decision about whether to be naughty, and to try to conceal that I knew about the cuffs from my unauthorized recon visit to Ashley’s room that morning, or to tell the truth. I felt a wave of heat go through my whole body as I realized that despite everything that had happened today, all the discipline my daddies had bestowed on me, my instinct still was to lie.
I widened my eyes in fake surprise.
“What, Daddy?” I asked. “Why?”
Daddy Jacob frowned, just a bit, as if he could tell I must be pretending in some way. My tummy did a little flip: I had always prided myself as a fantastic liar—it had represented an essential part of my smarts. I had fooled that Selecta exec, hadn’t I? Well, until I hadn’t, but that really hadn’t been my fault: how could I have known some computer program was watching me?
My bear daddy, though, seemed to have some extremely unwelcome insight into my mind.
Yes, dammit, my rational brain told my heart, extremely unwelcome.
“You’ll figure it out,” Daddy Phil said from the foot of the bed, his voice promising an even sorer butt if I didn’t comply. “Do as your daddy says.”
My face burning, I turned onto my other side, facing away from Daddy Jacob. I put my hands in front of me.
“These stupid panties won’t let me feel anything anyway,” I muttered, suddenly feeling sassy and daring now that I didn’t have to look at my daddies. “I don’t see why you have to cuff my hands.”
Daddy Jacob laughed. “Daddy Phil is right,” he said in his growly voice. “You’ll figure it out.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek a little, looking at the sturdy metal bar bolted into the wall next to my bed, trying to sort through my emotions.
For tying bad girls to. The idea that they had secured such a solid object into the very structure of my bedroom seemed to cause two deeply conflicting sets of feelings to surge into my mind and my body at the same time: shame, and fear, and anger on the one hand, that these men would think it was okay to chain a girl up like that, and that the girl happened to be me.
Safety, and security, and even affection on the other hand, despite how absolutely insane it seemed—because my daddies would never chain a girl up that way unless they really did want to make her their little lady. As I felt Daddy Phil climb onto the bed and sensed his huge body bending over me, with something jingly in his hands, I realized that both of those urgent groups of emotions had decided to work together to make me terribly aware of my body, and my blue-eyed wolf daddy’s so close to it—and even of Daddy Jacob’s hulking bear-like form standing in the background, watching his fellow daddy chain his bad girl to the wall.
I let out a little whimper as Daddy Phil put around my wrists the same kind of pink leather cuffs I had seen on Ashley’s, and closed the sturdy velcro tightly. The cuffs, which thankfully had a layer of soft fabric to protect my skin from chafing, already had the chain attached. Daddy Phil clipped the end of it to a fixture on the bar.
Immediately, out of some rebellious bad-girl instinct, I shook the cuffs and pulled at the chain, like a caged animal pacing to find the boundaries of her captivity. When I found just how little space I had to move around, the two feelings of angry fear and needy warmth redoubled, and I felt my brow furrow very hard. I turned my cheek further into the pillow, desperate to make sure my daddies couldn’t see my face and wouldn’t know just how conflicted this degradation had made me.