When Bad Girls Need More

by Tilton, Emily

  “Get those knees up,” Frenchie commanded. “Hold yourself open.”

  Hannah gave a little cry as she obeyed, and Jeannie turned involuntarily to Stella again, to see that the other girl had just taken a stride toward her, had closed the distance between them in an instant, was a scant inch from Jeannie and had started to reach out for her.

  “Wait!” Jeannie cried, her defiance evaporating as she felt the other girl’s strength.

  “I told you,” Stella said in a voice that sounded almost regal to Jeannie’s ears, “to get on the bench, ass girl.”

  Jeannie realized immediately that she had no chance, that Stella had both muscle strength and fighting skill to call on, as well as surprise. She couldn’t help struggling for a moment, though, and that only made her slip on the tile floor. Stella grabbed her wrist and twisted, and Jeannie landed on her butt on the bench.

  Stella’s face had come close to hers, so that the boss girl could whisper in Jeannie’s ear. “Look at your friend. I want your skinny ass just like that, Goldie.”

  Jeannie turned, to see that Frenchie had mounted Hannah’s face. The red-haired girl’s cries of shame emerged from between the engulfing thighs of the blonde lieutenant, who now took the yellow hose with the blue nozzle from the stand, and bent to look down, between Hannah’s parted legs. Jeannie couldn’t seem to look away as Frenchie put the nozzle into Hannah’s tiny anus, then reached up to open the valve on the enema bag.

  Hannah cried out a moment later. Her back arched, and Frenchie began to ride her face in earnest, grunting with evident pleasure at each bounce upon the other girl’s nose and mouth.

  “Lick it, Red,” Stella said. “You know how.”

  Chapter 16

  Jake typed a chat to Kevin as he watched the scene in the enema room.

  Should we loop Cassie in?

  Cassie served as case officer for both Stella and Renee (to whom Stella had given the nickname Frenchie). The little scene in the enema room ordinarily wouldn’t require Cassie’s attention, since it played out the same way every time, but Renee’s sensor data indicated a possible breakthrough for her: she had just recalibrated for the first time in seventeen days, riding Hannah’s face with Stella and Jeannie watching.

  Just sent her a heads-up, Kevin replied.

  Thanks, Jake typed back. See you in 5.

  On his monitor, each new girl lay on her back now, with a wet, bare pussy pressing down on her nose and mouth. Each new girl had an enema bag draining into her little bottom through a lubricated nozzle in her anus. Jeannie and Hannah cried out as Stella and Renee squeezed the last of the warm soapy water into their already full backsides.

  Jake had to look at the dynamic spreadsheet that filled the upper left of one of his three screens to follow the numbers, which told a tale of dominant and submissive arousal less exciting than the cameras did—but one that had a great deal more precision. Cassie would definitely want to see what the dynamic duo—as Jake had started to think of Jeannie and Hannah—had done to Renee’s responsiveness: the beta girl’s skin galvanics and her arousal showed a young woman owning her mastery and her servitude at once, a rare and valuable thing for the Bad Girls program.

  Just as Jake started to get up to join Kevin at the door to the bathroom, a chat came in from Cassie: Thanks, dudes. Looks like I can start shopping Renee around. Buy you a drink after work?

  Jake’s last look at the close-up of Jeannie’s flushed, damp face, nearly invisible most of the time under Stella’s grinding bottom, showed his bad girl with a creased brow and troubled eyes. The next video window over showed her back arching with helpless pleasure as Stella teased her clit with a fingertip, just for dominant fun. Jake thought he could see in Jeannie’s eyes the dawning understanding that eating another bad girl’s pussy because she had no choice felt better than she had thought it would—and the growing realization that being a bad girl could mean many different things.

  * * *

  Jake and Kevin walked into the bathroom just as Stella and Renee dismounted from the pleasure saddles they had made of the new girls’ faces. As Jeannie and Hannah sat up, identical expressions on their faces indicating the desperate need to go straight to the metal toilets in the next room, they saw their daddies standing in the doorway.

  Hannah gave a little cry. Jeannie’s jaw dropped.

  “Go ahead, girls,” Stella said as she and Renee left to return to the showers. “Your daddies will take over from here.”

  Jeannie turned to look at the back of the departing boss girl, then back at Jake, then over at Hannah.

  Jake made a beckoning motion with his left hand, toward the toilets.

  “Go ahead, twenty-three and twenty-four. Do your business. Then we’ll make sure you’re nice and clean in the shower. After that we’ll go to the training room.”

  Hannah gave Kevin one imploring look, her face crimson and shining from Renee’s juices. Her brow creased so deeply it must have hurt, and then she got up and half ran, half waddled past the daddies. Tiny whimpers of discomfort wafted to Jake’s ears in the redhead’s wake, as he looked intently at Jeannie, their eyes locked in a battle of wills that made his cock leap against his thigh.

  She knew she had no hope of doing anything but what her daddy had told her to do. The extremely unladylike sounds of Hannah relieving herself made themselves heard behind Jake’s back, and he saw Jeannie flinch ever so slightly as her friend moaned on the toilet. He saw in the blonde girl’s face how desperately she wanted to join Hannah, despite Jeannie’s best efforts to keep her eyes hard and defiant.

  But for the first time, Jake could tell, Jeannie put up her resistance not as an attempt truly to defy authority, but only as a way to show herself—and her daddy—that she could be strong. Even though she knew her defiance of her body’s desperate need couldn’t last, Jeannie Rendoski wanted Jake to know that she could hold out against it for a little while longer than Hannah had.

  Jake smiled, and then, very deliberately, he rubbed the knuckles of his right hand with the fingers of his left. He watched Jeannie’s eyes drop to those hands, and he watched the color surge in her pussy-wet cheeks as she remembered the spanking yesterday.

  “Go ahead, sweetheart,” he said. “You’ll feel so much better after you get it out.”

  Jeannie’s face crumpled, and she made a low whining sound as her upper body gave a little jerk.

  “Oh, hard clench,” Maria said over the comm link. “She just hit nine. Hannah’s at seven.”

  Jeannie rose from the bench, putting her right hand behind her as if to help her hold in the sloshing enema. She tried to walk normally, but her gait had a sweet little hitch in it and her waist bent a bit, so that anyone could tell she had something shameful inside her bottom.

  Kevin had just gotten Hannah off the toilet, and started to lead her back to the showers. Jake watched the two new girls—the two ass girls, now—exchange a touching look. Hannah silently begged forgiveness for having yielded so easily, and Jeannie wordlessly forgave her.

  After that, Jeannie looked at nothing but the tiled floor. Jake followed her the few steps to the toilets, and stood in front of her as she squatted, her face bright red.

  “Skin galvanics are down,” Maria told him. “Looks good for progressing.”

  “Look at me, twenty-three,” Jake said to Jeannie. “I want you to remember why your butt is being cleaned out this way.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and scrunched up her face, and then she gave a sob of relief as the enema began to leave her body.

  Then she whispered, “Oh, God,” and she opened her blue eyes to look into her daddy’s brown ones. As she finished her shameful task on the toilet, Jake smiled into her eyes, reassuring her that as degrading as she found her position, he could ensure that she came out a better bad girl because of it.

  * * *

  Kevin unlocked the training room and opened the door for the girls to step through ahead of their daddies. Jake studied Jeannie’s face as the naked
girl stepped past him and took in what lay on the other side of the door.

  The training room at Advanced Guidance followed the specifications Selecta had laid down in its contract with the military to supply SRDs—Sexual Relief Devices, aka military-industrial fuck toys—to the troops and their officers. Each SRD had her own room, or shared one with another SRD, when on base, very much like this one: a cot for each girl comfortable enough to fuck her enjoyably in it, a footlocker for each girl, a desk to share for the minor office work that accompanied each assignment. Each SRD also worked in her commanding officer’s HQ; the desk in her room served as a place mostly to fill out her reports on the fuckings she received from the men.

  “We told you yesterday, girls,” Jake said when Kevin had closed the door behind them, “that we turn bad girls into fuck toys, here at this Advanced Guidance facility. This training room is the place where you’ll learn to be a good fuck toy.”

  Jeannie turned to him, and Hannah turned to Kevin. The blonde girl’s face seemed to travel the emotional distance between helpless arousal and angry scorn twenty times in the succeeding second, with a stop along the way for abject humiliation.

  Wildcat coming, Jake said to himself, an instant before Maria told the daddies, “Jeannie’s going to wildcat, it looks like. Hannah is holding steady.”

  The part of Jake’s job that never ceased to amaze him, and to give him the greatest pleasure—other than the actual fucking, of course—lay in watching a girl succumb to her bodily instincts and then teaching her to work with them. Often those instincts came from her needy pussy, but they could also come from her equally primal basic will to independence—something bad girls always had in abundance, since it represented the thing that made them so very special.

  Jake looked back into Jeannie’s pretty blue eyes and saw to his delight the beginnings of a new idea behind them. Even as she came closer to the wildcat rebellion Jake had purposefully brought on, Jeannie had started to suspect her daddy’s real intention. She had begun to understand that Jake wanted to make her think about exactly the kind of turmoil she now felt. Jeannie Rendoski had started to see the point of Advanced Guidance.

  She didn’t like it Jake could see that in her eyes, too.

  You don’t have to like it, sweetheart, he thought. You will, someday soon—but you definitely don’t have to.

  He gave the final nudge that would bring on her wildcat.

  “The room is based on the ones bad girls live in on military bases,” Jake said, speaking in a casual, matter-of-fact tone and looking from Jeannie to Hannah, whose cheeks had gone bright pink. “The military program has been so successful, though, that most Selecta office buildings have a few rooms like this one, now. You girls will most likely be office fuck toys, since that’s where the largest demand is these days.”

  Jeannie looked at the cots, and then at Hannah, and then at Jake.

  “One more command,” Maria told the daddies. “Kevin, go ahead and give it to Hannah.”

  Smart, Jake thought.

  If Kevin ordered Jeannie’s new friend to submit to the next humiliation—the crucial step that both girls would remember from this point on as the beginning of their bad-girl service—Jeannie’s rebellion would be at the system, rather than at Jake. The consequences she brought on both girls would come from the system itself, activating and cementing the lesson Judge Oh had delivered.

  “Twenty-four,” Kevin said, “go ahead and bend over the foot of the cot on the left. Then reach back and spread your cheeks. You’re going to have your ass fucked now.”

  The effect on Jeannie was instantaneous. Her face lost its troubled look as her fight-or-flight reflex took over. She had stood a moment before with her hands in front of her tummy, not quite clasped together but hovering there as if she wanted to cover her pussy and hide it from the daddies’ eyes. Now she drew them up and clenched them into fists as she at the same time straightened her whole body to look first Kevin and then Jake in the eye.

  Her posture didn’t look like a cartoonish put-up-your-dukes kind of stance. Rather, she looked like a self-possessed, independent young woman, naked through no fault of her own and suddenly able to ignore the nudity in a way she hadn’t been a moment before.

  “This is bullshit,” she said. “We’re supposed to be okay with this? What the fuck? The fucking judge said all that shit about justice and the law, but I mean give me a fucking break.”

  Hannah looked at her new friend with wide eyes. The private academy girl had the higher IQ of the two, though just by a little, but it clearly hadn’t occurred to her that this kind of rebellion represented a possibility.

  “Hannah’s galvanics are rising,” Maria said in Jake’s ear. “Arousal is steady at nine. Jeannie too—also at nine. Looks pretty much perfect.”

  Jake smiled at Jeannie. This wildcat state, where defiance and sexual need linked up to bring a bad girl to a crisis, was where he did his best and most important work.

  He took his attention from the beautiful, rebellious, naked girl for a moment to exchange a glance over at Kevin, to ensure they got the timing right. Then both of them advanced on their bad girls, hands reaching for the same places on Jeannie and Hannah.

  Jeannie’s lips parted and her eyes went wide. For a moment she held her position, and then her hands flew up, in vain, to stop him. Jake had his left hand around the back of her neck and his right hand between her legs, and he had started to bend his face down to kiss her very, very hard.

  Chapter 17

  Jeannie tried to cry out, but Daddy Jake had moved so quickly that she only emitted a muffled noise up into his open mouth.

  The part of her mind that had called bullshit on the whole Advanced Guidance fuck toy thing only a moment before now told her that her daddy wanted to teach her a lesson. Something about the decisive way he had moved, or maybe about just how precisely his hands and his lips seemed to move on her body, or maybe just about him—the way he looked at her and the way he touched her… and the way he had used her mouth and spanked her bottom the previous day… all of it said to Jeannie that Daddy Jake meant her to learn from every shameful touch, every degrading word.

  That rebellious spirit said she should call bullshit on this forceful kiss, this arrogant, terribly lewd caress between her trembling thighs.

  Jeannie’s body said the opposite, and between the two voices there didn’t seem to exist the faintest shade of a contest.

  She sobbed into Daddy Jake’s urgently moving lips as he opened her on two fingers down below and found the wetness that had pooled just inside her as the daddies had spoken of what it meant to be a corporate fuck toy—even as Daddy Kevin had told Hannah to bend over and to spread her cheeks.

  Jeannie’s body started to learn the lesson her mind wanted to reject; she pressed up against her daddy’s tall, muscular body, tried to ride his khaki-covered thigh. He broke the contact of their mouths to cradle her face against his chest for a moment, still working her bare, needy pussy somehow both gently and dominantly. Jeannie couldn’t help it: she planted little kisses on his broad chest, on the base of his throat. She could never say thank you, she thought—but each of the little pecks said Thank you, Daddy in its own wordless way.

  Then she felt him begin to turn her around, toward the cot. She saw that Daddy Kevin was doing the same thing to Hannah. Both bad girls would learn this lesson at the same time. Jeannie sobbed; she knew she couldn’t do it—the degrading thing Daddy Kevin had commanded of Hannah. Her body wanted it, but somehow her mind kept up its protest.

  How could she want such humiliation, and yet resist it so strongly at the same time?

  Jeannie turned her face to the left, her cheek on the crisp white sheet that covered the cot, so that she could see Hannah bent over the other cot just three feet away. Like Jeannie, the red-haired girl had her hands down along her sides, where her daddy had put them when he had laid her down. Jeannie saw Hannah’s eyes looking back at her, and she thought she saw Hannah, too, notice where Jeannie
’s arms lay.

  “You know what to do, girls,” said Daddy Jake. “Show us those clean little assholes.”

  Jeannie felt her own forehead pucker as she saw Hannah’s do the same. Hannah’s hands shook, her fingers curling a little as if she imagined her bottom cheeks within their grasp. Jeannie’s hands trembled a little too, and she had to keep a sob of arousal down inside her chest.

  “Alright,” Daddy Kevin said, “let’s get the straps out of the closet. Girls, your service as SRDs is part of your sentence. Your new daddies—or mommies, sometimes… they’re the bosses at the unit you’ll be serving—will whip you when you need it, the way you do right now.”

  Jeannie had known, somehow, that it was coming, that it had to come. She knew she had to stay true to her independence, too. She started to get up off the cot, partly in protest but mostly to keep Daddy Jake from seeing her hips jerk at the clench her pussy had given at the words when you need it, the way you do right now.

  “Down, twenty-three,” Daddy Jake said, his voice stern. She felt his enormous hand pressing on her back and though for a moment Jeannie resisted with all her strength she found herself flat on the cot again, looking at Hannah. Her friend’s face looked terrified, now, as if she could see what Daddy Kevin had brought out of the closet Jeannie had just heard him open.

  “Here you go, Jake,” the red-haired daddy said.

  “Thanks, Kevin,” said the dark-haired man who loomed above Jeannie. “Twenty-three, you can make this easy or you can make it hard. You know what you need to do.”

  She felt Daddy Jake’s hand press down a little harder on her back, and she gasped at the realization that he didn’t mean to say anything else, because she could hear the strap whistling through the air. Then she heard the crack and she felt the agony and she started to struggle, out of pure animal instinct, like a cat trying desperately to get away from the person holding it.