The first five were over the top of her girly, pink, frilly dress. She had to stand, lift the dress, and bend back over for the next five, and then finally, he pulled the white cotton panties down to her knees to deliver the last five. She acted like they hurt, completing with begging daddy for mercy.
When he finished, there was a long lecture about paying attention and learning, all while she was bent over with her bottom in the air. The “spanks” hadn’t been more than swats, and Sandy almost wished her bottom was warm. She’d been in group settings before, where the other women received real spankings — with belts, paddles, and worse. She knew some men liked to spank for real, until the girl cried and her bottom was bright red. Sometimes, Sandy’s job was to hold her coworker and comfort her through the punishment, other times it was so the men not spanking someone would have another pro to fuck.
Sandy never negotiated to let someone hurt her for real.
When the lecture came to an end, Pat’s fingers spread her pussy lips, but not like a lover would — more as a doctor. Efficient. Practical. “Is Daddy’s little girl okay down here? Daddy needs to check.”
“I’m okay, Daddy! Please don’t touch me there!”
“Now now. Daddy knows what his little girl needs. Don’t make me have to spank you again, Jennifer. Spread your legs for Daddy.”
“My panties won’t let me, Daddy.” They were still around her knees.
“Easily fixed.”
Children’s safety scissors were at the edge of the desk, and he retrieved them and cut the ugly panties off.
“Spread your legs, Jennifer.”
Pat’s voice sent heat to Sandy’s clit once he got into the groove. It was deep, and authoritative, and she wanted him to keep giving her orders and expecting her to obey. Or else.
She complied, and he spread her lower lips with the fingers of one hand... and did nothing for at least a minute. Without warning, he grabbed her clit, and she jumped and nearly pulled her legs together.
“Be still, young lady.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy! That hurts!”
“It hurts? Do we need ice, Jennifer?”
“No, Sir! It’s fine!”
He squeezed. “Are you lying to me, little girl?”
“I’m not, Daddy! I just didn’t expect it!”
He let go, adjusted his grip, and lifted her clit hood.
“What happens to little girls who lie?”
Sandy’s entire nether region clenched. She can’t stand having her mouth washed out with soap, and yet the idea of it made her horny as fuck.
“Please don’t, Daddy! I’ll be good!”
“I know you will, sweetheart.” Her released her clit hood, then her nether lips, and patted her bottom. “Come — let’s get it taken care of so we can move forward.”
All through the mouthsoaping, then the pretend spanking with the ruler to her bare bottom while the soap bar was in her mouth, the rinsing — which makes it oh-so-much-worse before it gets better — and then having to tell him what she’d learned from the experience, she thought of Vic.
Sandy knew it wasn’t fair to Pat. He’d paid for her, and she was thinking of someone else... but she couldn’t stop.
The tears that fell from her eyes during the mouthsoaping were real. It was humbling, and so hard to handle — and it tasted worse than awful, and burned her mouth. It was on her list of things allowed for an extra charge though, and Pat didn’t mind paying extra.
“Let’s take your shirt and bra off, sweetheart. How long has it been since we checked for lumps in your breasts? We have to be safe, my beautiful little girl.”
He spent ten minutes inspecting her breasts before he ordered her to grab her ankles so he could finish inspecting her nether regions.
Sandy said everything she was supposed to — begging him not to touch her there, not to put his finger inside her, and eventually (as always) he turned his attention to her rear entry.
Pat regularly changes things up, but the biggest constant is that his little girl must stay a virgin, so he only fucks her ass. There’s always a different reason — she got caught kissing a boy, she kicked her leg too high while exercising and proper young ladies shouldn’t do so, she’d broken into his liquor cabinet to drink the chocolate liqueur — Pat was refreshingly creative when it came to inventing reasons for punishment.
Sandy is required to pretend it hurts and be believable. Pat wants to see real tears and hear believable screams, and Sandy is excellent at producing elephant tears and realistic screams.
She used to love this part, but after reproducing the little anal virgin countless times, it no longer set her off as it once did.
But her job was to satisfy the customer. Pat left large tips, depending upon how satisfied he was with the evening.
He always lubed her ass with a single finger, washed his hands, put the blindfold on her, and then undressed. Sandy had never seen him in less than the suit and tie he wore into the room, and then later, his robe.
“You need your blindfold, Jennifer, and we must secure your hands over your head to be sure you don’t take it off. Little girls aren’t supposed to see boy parts until they’re married.”
RTMC rules say the women are supposed to be able to either see or feel the condom on the cock before it’s put in, so he always waits until after she’s felt it before he connects her wrist cuffs to the handy eyebolt in the wall, hidden a few inches below the top of the mattress.
“I got an email from your science teacher today. She tells me you made a sixty on your test. I’m at the end of my rope, trying to get you to study, so we’re going to have a new punishment. Feel what’s about to be in your bottom, little Jeni. You need to know what to expect.”
“Oh, no Daddy! It’s too big! It’ll hurt!”
“It will, my darling girl, but you haven’t learned when I’ve spanked you, so perhaps this will get through to you.”
He flipped her over, lifted her until she was on knees-and-chest, and ordered her knees forward a little more, until her bottom hung over her feet.
With her arms stretched in front of her and bound to the eyehook in the wall, she’d be totally at his mercy.
Except for the werewolf bikers who’d hear her and come to her rescue if she cried for help.
Sometimes Pat enjoyed raping her ass with her in diaper position, other times, he’d bend her over the back of a chair, or position her on her stomach with something under her hips to prop her bottom up.
Today, it was knees and chest, with her bottom tilted back instead of up.
He never gave her time to prepare, or any warning. He put his cockhead to her entrance and pressed in, all at once, as fast as possible.
And Sandy obediently begged him not to put it in her while he climbed on the bed, told him it would split her open and promised to be good and study harder — and then squealed and squeaked when he jammed himself inside, and eventually screamed and cried once he was pounding her.
He always makes it last as long as possible. Sometimes, he’s close and doesn’t want to blow yet, so he walks around the room, lecturing about good study skills, paying attention in class, and how bad girls have to be punished so they can grow up and become contributing members of society
Eventually, he comes into the condom, deep in her ass. When he’s finished, he cleans her bottom with a baby wipe and says there’s a little blood. He puts a finger in, then two, then three, and finally four. He pulls two out, and puts two fingers from his other hand in, so he can pull her asshole apart and see the damage. Her yelps, screams, and begs for mercy during this part are probably a lot more believable.
“Oh, little girl,” he says on this night. “Your bottom is going to hurt a few days, and you’ll remember to listen in class and study. It’ll heal though. You’ll be fine.”
There’s never any actual damage, of course. Sandy’s a pro and can take it up the ass with no problems.
Pat’s a smart man, and he obviously has plenty of money. He isn’t
ugly, but isn’t exactly handsome. Sandy assumes he has body image issues, since he works it so she’s blindfolded before he undresses. He brings a fancy-schmancy robe to wear during aftercare.
Pat paid for three hours, and today they had fifteen minutes at the end, after he’d inspected her. Aftercare with Pat was always nice — he held her, comforted her, and told her he knew she’d make a good grade on her math test the next day.
When his time was up, she had fifteen minutes to shower and change for her next appointment, and she spent at least three of those minutes brushing and rinsing her mouth. She’d made sure her mini-bottle of mouthwash was full, because she figured she’d end up with a soapy mouth.
A quick shower, and she pulled her hair into a bun at the base of her skull so she’d look as bald as possible. She wrapped her boobs as tightly as she could manage, and put a onesie on.
She didn’t even try to use the restroom before he came. She didn’t need to go, but she usually makes the attempt between customers.
Her final appointment of the night was another regular. Speaking is never allowed — only whining and crying. He handles all financial transactions with the office. For this, she can never direct the session, but it’s okay.
Jiggy came into the room with her and sat beside her on the bed, and she curled up on her side with her thumb in her mouth. The customer knocked on the door and came in, and Jiggy said, “Thanks for watching her for me, man. I just need to go out for an hour or two.”
“Not a problem. Has she been fed?”
“Sorry, no. Her bottle’s ready to go, you just have to give it to her.”
Four bottles were lined up on the table beside the bed. All with lemon water.
This customer never negotiated for sex, and hadn’t today, either.
He put her in the diaper position, unsnapped the onesie, and put a diaper on her. “You had an accident the last time I babysat you, so let’s do this as a precaution. Such a sweet baby, but you still need to work on the potty training, and I don’t like being pissed on.”
He sat on the bed, leaned against the headboard, and positioned Sandy in his lap as best he could to approximate giving a baby a bottle. Sandy didn’t mind. It was nice to be held, and she’d been the one to decide on lemon water. It tasted okay, plus it’s a natural diuretic, which would make her need to pee faster. There were no thoughts of Vic during this part — she didn’t think he’d want her to pee in a diaper. She’d had an orgasm the first time a customer had put her through it, but it wasn’t a big deal anymore. It could be, and every once in a while it still worked for her, but mainly now it was just doing what the customer needed.
He gave her two and a half bottles of lemon water before she wet her diaper. The initial whine was involuntary, but she followed it up with what she hoped sounded like a baby crying.
He reached down to feel, over the top of her diaper, but he rubbed her crotch while he talked.
“Oh, you’ve been a bad girl. We need to clean you up, but finish your bottle first.”
He kept taking the bottle out of her mouth, rubbing her pussy through the wet, soggy diaper, calling her a bad girl, and then finally putting the bottle back in for another couple of sucks before he did it again.
It took at least another five minutes to finish the bottle. He made a production of putting it away, stretching her out, lifting her legs, and then getting his changing supplies together. The pee had cooled by then and felt gross.
Sandy passively stared at the ceiling while he put the new diaper under the old one, opened the old one, pulled it out, and used baby wipes to clean her everywhere. He pulled her lips out to be sure he got her clean all around them, lifted her clit hood to clean her clit, manipulated her clit to clean all around it and in every nook and cranny. He even stuck his finger in her butt to see if there was poop close (there never is when she’s working — she gives herself a rinse enema before each shift to be sure she’s clean back there), and finally fastened the diaper again. Jiggy walked in while the customer was washing his hands.
“Thanks for watching her, was she any trouble?”
“None. She was a perfect angel.”
When he was gone, Jiggy helped her unwrap the ace bandage around her chest. The MC brothers usually let her take care of herself, but every once in a while they’d help, especially if they thought a scene had been difficult. This one hadn’t been, but she was happy for the help.
“Dude has issues,” said Jiggy.
“Dude tips really, really well.”
He laughed. “I know. Still has issues.” He put his hands in his pockets. “You’re done for the night, mind taking one more? I need to blow off some steam, and...” He shrugged and lowered his voice. “Need something I don’t want to get from the sweetbutts.”
“You know I don’t like it rough. What do you need?”
“I need you to treat me like you love me and I’ve had a hard day at work.”
Sandy charged seven hundred an hour for plain vaginal sex with no kink, but the MC took their cut out of that. However, when a member hired her, they didn’t need to take their cut since it was silly for her to pay the MC to protect her from a member.
“How long do you need? You know I cost more than most of the other girls?”
“I don’t mind payin’ more for someone who knows how to please. You’re five-fifty an hour when it’s one of us, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s more if you want...” She looked around the room, thinking. “You don’t want more. You just need some TLC.” Her eyes landed on the dirty diaper in the small garbage container by the door. “Why don’t you call for someone to clean up in here, and I can give you a shower while they work.” She shrugged. “Or we can ask the front desk for a room that’s already been cleaned. Your choice.”
He reached for his phone. “Shower sounds nice. You have soap that doesn’t smell like flowers?”
She chuckled. “I do.”
No one had been in her pussy all night, and by the time she’d cleaned him everywhere in the shower, massaged him, and given him a blow job — she was beyond ready to be fucked. Jiggy was gentle, and affectionate, and downright needy, right up until he wasn’t. He pounded the fuck out of her, fast and hard, but he wasn’t rough and he didn’t hurt her. Sandy had a half-dozen explosive orgasms before he finally came.
He handed her seven hundred cash when they finished, and was waiting to walk her to the office when she’d showered and changed back into street clothes.
“Did you use your dinner hour for your time with me?”
He kicked the toe of his shoe into the tiled floor. “Yeah. Sometimes you just have to feed the loudest hungers. Thanks for taking care of me. Gramps tells us you have a new man?”
“Maybe. It’s new.”
“Make sure he treats you right.” He hesitated. “There’s an end date on your appointments. Nothing past September first?”
“Yeah. I’m about to graduate. I should be established in my new job by then, and will hopefully have enough to put towards a house.”
“You make over fifty grand a month.”
She could see the question in his eyes. He thought she should already have a pretty big nest egg, and she did, but she wanted a better start.
“I made ten or fifteen grand a month at first. I haven’t always made this much. Tuition and books is around seventy grand a year. I get that as a scholarship through one of the MC’s charity divisions, so there’s no taxes. I officially get thirty grand a year from the B&B and another of the RTMC businesses for supposedly legitimate services. I use that money to pay my rent, electric bill, car, every other tank of gas, one trip to the grocery store a month — you know how it works.”
He nodded. Official purchases and living expenses have to pass IRS scrutiny, so they all had to be careful to divvy up what they paid for with laundered money in the bank versus cash.
“I have a whole lot of cash I can’t officially claim, and I’ll be able to continue using it for incidentals for
years, maybe decades, but my legitimate salary for those couple of months — on top of earning a salary through my new job — will help pad my bank account.”
If Sandy was honest, she’d admit walking away from this kind of money would be hard. The end date didn’t mean she had to stop, it just meant she’d have the option of doing so while remaining on good terms with the MC and her clients.
The current offer on the table for her starting salary after graduation was over a hundred grand a year, but she could make that in two or three months at the B&B.
But, she’d have full access to all her after-tax money in a real job.
She’d also have to pay a helluva lot more taxes.
Gramps gave her an affectionate smile when she entered the office. “Everything okay tonight?”
“Smooth as silk. You have me ready to go?”
Gramps handed her an envelope full of cash and looked at the clock. “Your beau is on stage another hour.”
Sandy looked at the clock – quarter till twelve. The show ended at one and the bar closed at three. Vic said he was usually home by one thirty or two unless he stayed to have a drink with friends.
She’d considered this possibility when she’d dressed for work. She had on red stack heels, black skinny jeans, and a red low-cut clingy tee. Her hair wasn’t a total disaster. She’d released the bun and brushed it out after the final shower, and it waved around her face mostly like it’s supposed to.
But did she want to go alone? And would he think she was stalking him?
Kate stepped in, and Sandy smiled at her. “Want to go watch the end of a drag show? My treat.”
“It’s just a few blocks over,” Gramps said. “I’ll get someone to drive you and drop you off,” he looked at his computer. “Damn. We’re all on bikes.”
Sandy shrugged. “Jiggy can drive us in my car and bring it back here. We can either get Vic to drop us off back here, or we can get an Uber back.”
He pointed a finger. “Don’t walk. Jiggy can come pick you up when you finish. We have a prospect walking the lot. He can handle Jiggy’s job for five minutes.”
Cocky Queen Page 4