When Bad Girls Need More

by Tilton, Emily

  Daddy Jake just had way too much strength. He held her down and he whipped her and Jeannie had to close her eyes because she couldn’t bear to look at Hannah who had started to get her own whipping now—the first time, Jeannie thought, that the redhead had received the terrible prison strap.

  She heard Hannah screaming in agony, and Jeannie screamed too. She heard the cots creaking under both of them as both girls tried and failed to get away. Jeannie felt certain she would hear Hannah beg, now, to be allowed to spread her punished bottom-cheeks for her daddy, but no such sound came from the other cot. Hannah cried out, and sobbed, but said nothing.

  “The hard way, then,” Daddy Kevin said grimly.

  Jeannie’s whole backside burned with the lines of flame the prison strap left across it. She felt her body writhe, her hips buck, and she understood dimly, and very suddenly, and yet with great certainty, that she could get through it. She realized above all that Daddy Jake knew what he was doing.

  He knows I need it. The thought floated in even above the pain, just as Daddy Jake stopped whipping her.

  “You know what to do, girls,” his voice said.

  Jeannie bit her lip. She did know. She didn’t really know why she needed to do it for herself as well as for her daddy, but what he had given her with his voice and his strap made that question unimportant. She reached her hands back and cried out at the half-soothing, half-painful touch of her own fingers on her punished bottom-cheeks.

  She heard Hannah give a little sob, and she opened her eyes because she had to see: the other girl, on the other cot, made to do the very same shameful thing. Hannah’s tear-streaked face turned to look at Jeannie, too, forehead deeply creased and cheeks blazing pink. Jeannie saw Hannah’s fingers tighten a little on her spread cheeks, and she saw the way that made Hannah’s hips jerk over the end of the cot. Jeannie’s fingers did the same thing, and she cried out at the feeling, the heat that seemed to rush forward so that the need between her legs grew and grew.

  Jeannie had felt something like that need, when she had written the note to Mike. She had thought she could fuck him in the French room and satisfy it. She hadn’t understood about Advanced Guidance, about what a bad girl needs.

  Hannah’s hips moved rhythmically now, and Jeannie thought she might faint at the lewd sight—and at the sight of Daddy Kevin putting his left hand atop the red-haired girl’s waist as his right hand reached down. Jeannie sobbed, then, because Daddy Jake’s strong hand did the same thing, holding her in place though he didn’t need to do that anymore, really. At the same moment Daddy Kevin’s fingers reached Hannah’s pussy, Jeannie felt Daddy Jake’s in the same place on her body.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered, then, because his thumb had something cool and slick on it, and he had pressed it against the little place they had gotten so nice and clean for him. “Oh, God. Oh, God.” His fingers, in her pussy, spreading her wetness onto her clit, made her say that.

  “Please,” Hannah breathed. “Oh, Daddy. Please.”

  To hold their bottoms open like that for their daddies seemed like the most shameful thing in the world, and so the thing bad girls in Advanced Guidance should be made to do most often. She whimpered with need when Daddy Jake’s hand left her pussy and her bottom, and she bit her lip as she heard him taking off his clothes.

  She had closed her eyes for a moment, overcome with the pleasure her daddy’s skillful hand had brought. Now she opened them to see Daddy Kevin behind Hannah, his shirt already off so that Jeannie could see the washboard abs that made her tummy flutter. Then she saw his hard cock again, and the bad-girl naughtiness of this training room, where two young women bent over for discipline and fucking by their well-hung daddies, brought raging heat to her face and to her pussy at the same time.

  Jeannie’s breath caught in her throat as she felt her own daddy’s cock pressing against her pussy lips, his own hands covering her wrists to ensure she couldn’t take her hands from her whipped bottom.

  “Just a little while in these wet cunts, girls,” Daddy Kevin said, and then Jeannie and Hannah cried out in unison as their daddies started to fuck them for the first time. Daddy Jake and Daddy Kevin stayed in their pussies for just long enough that Jeannie knew Hannah, like Jeannie herself, had come tantalizingly close to coming.

  Then, as if on some signal, both daddies pulled their hard penises out of their bad girls. In confusion Jeannie felt Daddy Jake move her right hand, expertly making her put it under her hips, placing her fingers on her clit. Hannah’s whimpers made Jeannie turn her face to see that Daddy Kevin had done the same to her.

  “Show me how bad you can be, sweetheart,” Jeannie’s daddy said. “Make yourself come while I fuck your bottom.”

  His hand released hers, and then, only an instant later, she felt the soft but firm head of his cock pressing against her tiny hole.

  “Keep spreading this bottom,” Daddy Jake growled.

  Jeannie cried out, feeling completely overwhelmed by all the sensations flooding her nervous system: the pain of her whipped bottom, the discomfort of even the gentle pressure from Daddy Jake’s hardness on her virginal anus, the pleasure from her clit as she began to masturbate desperately.

  Then, in a rush that made her gasp and then moan, long and low, even as she heard what sounded like an answering moan from Hannah, all of it seemed to fit together, and all of it turned to pure ecstasy. She felt her bottom open, and she thought of the enema room, and her cheeks burned, but even the shame and the violated modesty contributed to her bad-girl pleasure.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” Daddy Jake murmured, as Jeannie felt his enormous hardness begin to enter her. She felt terribly open, terribly spread, and her fingers moved down to the pussy her daddy had chosen not to use and she started to come so hard that Daddy Jake had to hold her down so that she wouldn’t get away.

  Jeannie didn’t want to get away, though. She wanted…

  I want what my daddy wants.

  I want…

  The huge cock pressed in, and Jeannie cried out and heard Hannah cry out at the same time. In long strokes that pushed in more firmly each time, Daddy Jake started to fuck her bottom.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, the urgent fingers on her clit turning the discomfort into another wild orgasm that seemed to start in her back and explode up her spine.

  I want guidance. If this is guidance… I want guidance. Advanced Guidance.

  Above her and behind her Daddy Jake groaned softly, and Jeannie knew the sound had come from the pleasure her daddy got in her virgin bottom—the naughty bottom he had had cleaned for him… the bad-girl bottom he had whipped. The fingers of her left hand squeezed gently, feeling the welts from the prison strap. Daddy Jake drove his hardness into her smallest, most private place. Jeannie closed her eyes and cried out, and came again, just as she felt her daddy spurt his seed into her backside.

  Hannah gave a little sob, and Jeannie felt certain it had indicated one of her new friend’s quiet orgasms. Hannah needed Advanced Guidance too—it felt good to know they both did, in their own ways. Daddy Kevin grunted, and the creaking of the other cot died away, with a whimper from Hannah as if she too had felt her daddy come in her newly opened anus.

  Jeannie opened her eyes to see Hannah looking back at her. The sight of Daddy Kevin behind her with his cock still in her bottom, just as Daddy Jake’s remained in Jeannie, made Jeannie blush. She didn’t know how she could still have any modesty left, but Hannah’s own pink face told her that her friend felt it too.

  She remembered suddenly what the judge had said: I get the pleasure and you get the shaft. It hadn’t really been true, had it? For girls like Hannah and Jeannie, getting the shaft was getting the pleasure, wasn’t it?

  But…

  Jeannie felt Daddy Jake stroking her bottom as he slowly began to withdraw.

  “Daddy?” she asked.

  “Yes, twenty-three?” Daddy Jake’s voice rumbled through her body. “You have a question?”

  “When you turn a ba
d girl into a fuck toy…” On the other cot, Jeannie saw Hannah bite her lip, as if she knew what Jeannie meant to ask, and wanted her to ask it, but could hardly bear to listen.

  “Yes, sweetheart?” Jeannie’s daddy said.

  “Is she allowed to like it?”

  The daddies laughed. Hannah’s face had gone from pink to crimson.

  “Yes, Jeannie,” Daddy Jake said, making Jeannie open her eyes wide with surprise at his even knowing her name. “That’s what Advanced Guidance is all about.”

  The End

  Afterword

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