Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Dimly, I was aware of the other girls around me, their own fingers working frantically between their legs as they watched Zoe’s punishment. The air was thick with the scent of arousal and the sound of muffled whimpers and gasps.
Just as I felt the first tremors of an impending orgasm begin to ripple through me, a sharp voice cut through my haze of pleasure.
“Amy!” Miss Frieda barked. “Hands off. Now.”
I froze, my fingers still pressed against my throbbing clit. Miss Frieda’s heels clicked rapidly across the floor as she approached me, her green eyes flashing with anger. I reluctantly pulled my hand away from my aching sex, my body trembling with unfulfilled need.
“You naughty, disobedient girl,” Miss Frieda hissed, raising the strap. “I’ll teach you to control yourself.”
The first strike landed with a resounding crack, the leather biting into the soft flesh of my bottom. I cried out, my back arching as the pain blossomed across my skin. Miss Frieda didn’t pause, bringing the strap down again and again in a merciless rhythm.
Each lash sent shockwaves through my body, the sting radiating outward from the point of impact. My fingers clawed at the mat beneath me as I struggled to stay in position, my hips jerking involuntarily with each strike.
“You… must… learn… to follow… simple… instructions,” Miss Frieda thundered, delivering a lash with every word. The strap seemed to find every sensitive spot, from the roundest part of my cheeks to the tender skin where my thighs met my bottom.
Tears streamed down my face as the punishment continued, my cries echoing off the walls of the training room. The other girls watched in horrified fascination, their own hands moving frantically between their legs as they witnessed my chastisement.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore and my bottom felt like it was on fire and my throat was raw from screaming, Miss Frieda finally stepped back. I collapsed onto the mat, my body heaving with sobs.
“Let that be a lesson to all of you,” Miss Frieda said coldly, her gaze sweeping over the circle of trembling girls. “Disobedience will not be tolerated.”
She looked over at the guard by the door. My heart flipped as she addressed him with utterly unexpected words.
“Send in the daddies, please.”
The door opened with a soft click, and seven imposing figures strode into the room. We all gasped, the other bad girls and I, our eyes widening at the sight before them. The training daddies were dressed only in sleek black pants, but what drew my gaze was the strategic cutout that left each man’s hard, jutting cock on full display.
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, called Your 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 me gratis. 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.