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)
The fake pout seemed to come, too, from another thing I thought I could observe in Ashley’s behavior. It confused me at first, but after three or four days of living with my daddies and our colleagues I began to accept it: this whole sore-assed fuck-toy thing might be reforming my outward behavior and might make me a better girl in public—if I ever got to go out in public again—but it didn’t seem to make much difference on the inside. I stayed a defiant bad girl, in my heart, even if I knew I couldn’t really do anything rebellious thanks to the constantly looming threat of the belts around my daddies’ waists.
They didn’t let me forget it, either. Every time Daddy Jacob noticed the frowny face, he said something like, “Do you need more, honey? A whipping, maybe? Little ladies don’t pout that way.”
And my face would get hot as I let the sour expression go, but at the same time something inside glowed warm at the idea, weird as it always seemed, that I had a daddy who might whip me if I didn’t shape up my attitude.
CHAPTER 25
Marianne
About a week after I had arrived, our daddies told Ashley and me that we would be fucked together that evening.
“You bad girls have been doing a great job helping out,” said Daddy Ned.
Ashley and I looked at each other and blushed. We were sitting at the big kitchen table, each of us on our cushions. I could see in my new friend’s eyes that she had caught the double meaning in her daddy’s words just as easily as I had.
We had both certainly been helping out in the office. We had lots of emails to return: Selecta seemed to run on a constant flood of them, informing each of their employees of every little regulation change. As far as I could tell, that affected our firefighter daddies on a more important level than anyone else who worked for the megacorp—literally millions of people, all over the world—because our daddies had to keep everything and everyone safe from a danger that could absolutely devastate this part of the world.
The more I got to know about our little fire station, and our daddies’ jobs, the more I saw Daddy Jacob and Daddy Phil as real heroes, even if no one would ever give them the credit they deserved. The rounds they did every day—and the ones Daddy Ned and Daddy Paul did every night—involved inspecting equipment that saw heavy use twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred sixty-five days a year.
Selecta and the other megacorps that had taken over the world’s economy over the past thirty years had developed all kinds of amazing materials to build their industrial power plants with—that’s what I read in the emails everyday, at least. But in the end the things our plant did to make modern life possible despite all the problems with the energy crisis and the climate crisis and the financial crisis required putting stresses on the equipment that meant that it stood in constant danger of failing, and neither the electronic monitoring systems nor the teams of mechanics who did the scheduled maintenance had the special skills my daddies had to pinpoint how and where a fire might start, and spread.
At least the faceless bureaucrats understood that, though—and they had sent our daddies SRDs. Ashley and me. Our daddies’ little fuck toys.
That’s where our blushes came from, of course: the real helping out we had done involved making sure our daddies’ cocks had all the pleasure they wanted and needed. More specifically, almost every day during crossover time, I had been made to “help” when Ashley got fucked by her daddies, and Ashley had been made to “help” when my daddies fucked me.
Daddy Ned liked to have his balls licked while he had his rigid manhood buried in Ashley’s ample bottom. Daddy Paul liked to put his cock in my mouth before he started to fuck his own little lady’s pussy, and then alternate between the two.
Daddy Phil liked to have Ashley bend over next to me while he took me from behind atop the couch, so that he could fondle her between her thighs and make her cry out in the same rhythm I did. Daddy Jacob liked to make Ashley just watch while he pounded his enormous penis into my usually sore vagina.
The four of them had never all fucked their bad girls at the same time, though, and they had never fucked the other daddies’ bad girls. Several times, finding myself alone with Ashley in the kitchen or in the bathroom we shared, I had almost whispered to Ashley—I would have kept it to a whisper even though none of our daddies was nearby—and asked her what she thought about the possibility… the one our daddies had seemed for the last few days to have kept hinting about, without actually saying what it would mean exactly. My face had always gotten so hot and my heart had always begun to beat so fast that I couldn’t even seem to find any of the words I might say.