Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

“ I f you girls take nothing else away from your training,” Miss Frieda told us as we knelt in a circle, naked, each of us on her individual mat, forbidden to cover our freshly waxed pussies, “I want you to remember this: you are here because we are absolutely sure you belong here.”

I heard in her words the same subtext that had run through everything she and the other trainers had said and done for the past three days, from the moment the seven of us had gotten off the Selecta Corrections bus in front of the chateau. You don’t know yourself—your mind, your heart, your body—anywhere near as well as we know you.

With a hot blush that went well beyond my nakedness with all my fellow nude bad girls, I reflected—not for the first time—that Selecta had certainly demonstrated that thorough knowledge when their corporate police had descended on my hideout and arrested me red-handed. I had felt so safe in my minor criminal enterprise, reselling the last-generation microchips I got out of the recycling bins at the Selecta auto repair shop.

It had seemed like a victimless crime, if it were even a crime at all. Sure, I had taken apart the lock on the back door of the shop, using the black market toolkit I had bought from a classmate in my just-graduated senior class at Educational Facility 389. And maybe I had told a few of my acquaintances from the abandoned warehouse, where several of us had our jealously guarded individual hideouts.

And maybe those acquaintances had done more inside the shop than just take some of the circuit boards from the recycling bins. The corporate magistrate who had assigned me to what I had learned to call the Bad Girl program (technically something like the Non-Violent Female Qualifying Offenders Rehabilitation program) had definitely thought my door hack had caused serious damage, and she had done her best to make me feel guilty as she looked down her nose at me from atop her bench, or whatever they call it.

I had refused. To feel guilty, to cooperate, any of that shit. The part in the courtroom hadn’t even been that bad; I had just glared up at the judge, still trying to figure out how the fuck the Selecta goons had known where to find me.

Finding out, later, in the medical examination room, though—that had been the truly shitty part of the experience. On the other hand, I had to admit, not quite as shitty as my first paddling. The two had followed in close succession, so really it didn’t make a lot of sense to separate them. On the other hand, the fact that I had had the chance to avoid the paddling by ‘behaving myself’ during the medical exam seemed to draw a clear line between the two shitty experiences, even if I still resisted, in retrospect, admitting to myself that I could never have ‘behaved myself’ under those circumstances.

To my dismay, listening to what it seemed would be Miss Frieda’s final speech about our horrible training, I couldn’t stop my mind from going back to that unpromising beginning. I knew that was precisely what Miss Frieda hoped we all would do, as she droned on at us about how we belonged here, how it would bring about our rehabilitation .

Sure, becoming a bad girl fuck toy for the ultrawealthy men who would come to be my daddies would definitely rehabilitate me. I scoffed mentally, though I tried to keep the smile on my face because I really, really didn’t want a paddling today.

Miss Frieda and the training daddies wanted us to think about our past actions, to reassess them, and to let that new understanding set us free to make different choices. I tried to scoff inwardly again, but I hated that part of me had started to respond to that sickly sweet, touchy-feely way of thinking.

I hadn’t ‘chosen’ to ‘misbehave’ during the terrible examination. Had I?

The heat in my cheeks intensified as my mind traveled back. The imagined voice of the hulking man who had introduced himself as Daddy James sounded in my ears as if I were back on the exam table, fighting like a wildcat as he patiently held me down and secured the stout webbing straps around my knees, spread wide in the horrid stirrups—then my wrists, my waist, and finally my neck.

“Amy, honey, we’ve been tracking you for weeks. A microdrone put a sensor between your pussy and your anus that told us you belong in the Bad Girl program, and you’re beginning that program today, here and now, whether you like it or not.”

All my struggling had done nothing but exhaust me. I looked up at the enormous man—dark-haired, like me, bearded, at least six-foot-four and muscled like a bodybuilder—I was supposed to call ‘Daddy.’ He had picked something up, from a drawer or something: blunt-nosed safety shears. He brought them closer, reaching them down toward my waist.

“What the fuck are you doing with those?” I demanded.

“I’m going to cut your clothes off, Amy,” Daddy James replied matter-of-factly, “because there’s obviously no use in asking you to strip.”

“The fuck you are!” I yelled, starting to writhe again, as if I could somehow rip apart the impossibly strong black webbing that bound me helpless to the exam table.

“You fucking asshole!” I screamed, my voice cracking with rage and fear. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

Daddy James paused, the shears hovering just above my t-shirt. His cold blue eyes locked onto mine, his expression stern but unnervingly calm. “Amy, I’m going to give you one warning. If you swear at me again, you’ll be very sorry.”

A defiant fire burned in my chest. Who the fuck did he think he was? I glared up at him, my lips curling into a snarl. “Go fuck yourself,” I spat.

Daddy James’ eyes narrowed, and I saw a flicker of… was that satisfaction? He set the shears down on a nearby tray with a soft clink. “Well, it seems you’ve earned yourself your first paddling, young lady. That will happen right after the doctor finishes your examination.”

My stomach dropped, but I tried to keep the fear from showing on my face. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

He picked up the shears again and began methodically cutting away my clothes. As each piece fell away, I felt more exposed, more vulnerable. The cool air of the exam room raised goosebumps on my skin.

Daddy James’ eyes roamed over my body, and I felt a hot flush of shame creep up my neck and across my cheeks. I wanted to curl into myself, to hide, but the restraints held me open and on display.

“My, my,” Daddy James murmured, his eyes roving over my now-naked body. “What a curvy little thing you are, Amy. Those clothes were hiding quite the figure.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to snap back at him. My skin felt like it was on fire, burning with humiliation as his gaze lingered on my breasts, my hips, my thighs. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the exam table and vanish.

His hand ghosted over my hip, not quite touching. “Such soft skin,” he mused. “But my goodness, you’re quite the hairy little girl, aren’t you?”

My cheeks blazed hotter. I’d always been self-conscious about how quickly my body hair grew back after shaving. Now, exposed under the harsh exam room lights, I was acutely aware of the dark fuzz on my legs, the patch of hair between my thighs, even the light dusting across my arms.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Daddy James said, his tone mockingly soothing. “We’ll take care of all this unsightly hair for you. Every last bit of it will be waxed away, except for that lovely mane on your head. The men who’ll be enjoying your body prefer their girls nice and smooth.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out his words, but they burrowed into my brain. The thought of strange men’s hands on my newly bare skin made my stomach churn. I bit my lip hard, determined not to let Daddy James see how his words affected me.

Just then, the door opened with a soft whoosh. I craned my neck as much as the restraint would allow and saw a middle-aged man in a white coat enter. He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hello, Amy,” he said, his voice clinically detached. “I’m Dr. Reeves. I’m here to perform your examination and ensure you’re ready for your training and use.”

My breath caught in my throat. Use. The casual way he said it, as if I were nothing more than an object, sent a chill down my spine.

Daddy James placed a large hand on my shoulder, his touch firm but not painful. “Amy, Dr. Reeves is going to do a very thorough examination. He’s not just checking your physical health—he’s going to demonstrate to you that you’re in exactly the right place.”

I frowned, confused. “What the hell does that mean?”

Dr. Reeves chuckled, pulling on a pair of latex gloves with a snap that made me flinch. “It means, my dear, that your body is going to betray all those defiant words coming out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

As the doctor approached the foot of the exam table, Daddy James leaned in close, his beard tickling my ear as he whispered, “Remember what I said, honey. Behave yourself. You already have a paddling coming—don’t make it worse.”

As Dr. Reeves approached, I tried to squeeze my thighs together, but the stirrups held my legs spread wide. My heart pounded as his gloved hands touched my inner thighs.

“Now, now,” he chided, “no need to be shy. We’re going to get to know your body very well.”

His fingers probed between my legs and I gasped, twisting against the restraints. “Stop!” I cried out. “Don’t touch me there!”

But Dr. Reeves ignored my protests, his fingers exploring methodically. To my horror, I felt a warm tingle building where he touched. My face burned with shame.

“Just as I suspected,” Dr. Reeves said, glancing at Daddy James. “Her body is responding beautifully, despite her objections.”

Daddy James nodded approvingly. “You see, Amy? Your pussy knows what you need, even if your mind is still resisting.”

I shook my head frantically. “No! You’re wrong! I don’t want this!”

But even as I denied it, I couldn’t ignore the growing warmth between my legs. Dr. Reeves’ fingers circled my clit and I bit back a moan.

“Her lubrication is increasing,” the doctor noted clinically. “And her clitoris is becoming engorged.”

Tears of frustration and humiliation welled in my eyes. Why was my body betraying me like this?

“I’ll move on to the basic exam,” the doctor said, addressing Daddy James as if I were nothing but a piece of furniture, or… or a wild animal who had to be restrained for medical care, so that its training could begin. Then he turned to me, and made it even worse. “We need to make certain you’re ready to give your daddies the sort of pleasure bad girls like you are made for.”

As I watched in horror, he donned a headlamp and took a plastic speculum from a cart he pulled out of the corner of the room. He wheeled a stool over and sat on it, then positioned himself between my spread legs. I squirmed uselessly against my restraints as he lubed the transparent device, then brought it close to my exposed sex.

“Now, Amy,” he said in that maddeningly clinical tone, “you’re going to feel some pressure. Try to relax.”

I gritted my teeth as the cool, slippery plastic touched my sensitive flesh. The doctor slowly eased the speculum inside me, and I couldn’t hold back a whimper at the intrusion. He cranked it open, stretching me wider, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

“Good girl,” Daddy James murmured, stroking my hair. “Just breathe through it.”

Dr. Reeves leaned in close, his headlamp illuminating my most intimate areas. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the intensity of his scrutiny.

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully. “As indicated in her preliminary dossier, she’s not a virgin. Absence of the hymen shows clear signs of previous penetration.”

My cheeks burned with shame. How dare they discuss my sexual history so casually, as if I weren’t even there?

“Now for the other entrance,” Dr. Reeves announced, withdrawing the speculum from my vagina.

Before I could process what was happening, I felt the beak of the horrid thing pressing against my anus. I yelped in surprise and discomfort.

“No!” I cried, struggling against the restraints. The doctor pulled the speculum back and lifted his gaze to look at me across my naked belly, my bare breasts, heaving with my rapid breath.

“Certainly, Amy,” the doctor said. “You’re going to be having regular anal sex soon, so I need to make sure you’re ready for your training.”