Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

A my

Daddy James spoke with a note of warning in his voice.

“Amy,” he said, his voice low and stern, “I know this is difficult for you, but you need to cooperate. The doctor needs to examine you thoroughly to ensure you’re ready for your training.”

I bit my lip, tears of frustration and humiliation welling in my eyes. The cold, clinical touch of the speculum against the tiny button of my anus made me want to scream, but I knew it would only make things worse. I tried to steady my breathing as Dr. Reeves slowly inserted the device into my anus, the stretch burning and uncomfortable.

“There we go,” he murmured, adjusting the speculum. “Now, let’s have a look.”

I stared up at the ceiling, trying to disconnect from what was happening to my body. The harsh exam room lights seemed to bore into my skull, and I could hear the whir of machinery somewhere in the background. The air was cool on my exposed skin, raising goosebumps across my flesh.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Reeves removed the speculum and sat back. “Everything looks good,” he announced. “She’s in excellent condition for training.”

Daddy James nodded, his large hand still resting on my shoulder. I could feel the heat of his palm through my skin, a reminder of his constant presence. He turned to the doctor, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Doctor,” he said, “given Amy’s level of arousal, do you think it might be advisable for her to have an orgasm at this point? To get some of that pent-up heat out of her system before I paddle her?”

Dr. Reeves considered for a moment, his latex-clad fingers tapping thoughtfully against his chin. “Yes, definitely. A very good idea. We need a baseline ceiling for her responsiveness at this point in her training. It will also definitely make the paddling more effective.”

I felt my face flush an even deeper shade of crimson. The idea that they would force an orgasm from me, as casually as if they were discussing the weather, made my stomach churn with a mixture of humiliation and unwanted excitement.

Dr. Reeves wheeled his cart closer, and I heard the soft clinking of instruments. When he turned back to face me, he held a sleek white plastic vibrator in his hand. The sight of it made my breath catch in my throat.

“Now, Amy,” Dr. Reeves said, his tone maddeningly professional, “you’re going to feel some stimulation. Try to relax and let it happen naturally.”

I wanted to protest, to tell them both to go to hell, but the words caught in my throat. As the doctor brought the vibrator closer to my exposed sex, I felt my body betray me once again. My hips shifted almost imperceptibly, seeking contact with it before I could stop myself.

The vibrator’s first touch sent a jolt through my body, making me gasp involuntarily. Dr. Reeves moved it in slow, teasing circles around my clit, the low hum of the device filling the air. I bit my lip hard, determined not to make a sound, but I couldn’t stop the way my hips twitched and rocked against the restraints.

“Daddy James,” Dr. Reeves said casually, “why don’t you stimulate her breasts? It will enhance the experience.”

Daddy James’ large hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. They hardened instantly under his touch, and I felt a fresh wave of shame wash over me. His fingers kneaded the soft flesh, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer squeezes that made me squirm.

“Such beautiful, full breasts,” Daddy James murmured, his blue eyes locked on mine. “Tell me, Amy, have you always been self-conscious about your curves?”

I turned my head away, refusing to answer, but he persisted. “I can see it in your eyes, sweetheart. The way you try to hide your body, even now. But you don’t need to be embarrassed. Your lush figure is exactly what wealthy daddies are looking for.”

His words sent a confusing mix of emotions swirling through me—humiliation, anger, and to my dismay, a flicker of pride. His impossibly skillful hands continued their exploration of my breasts, his fingers teasing and pinching my nipples as Dr. Reeves worked the vibrator between my legs. The dual sensations were overwhelming, and I felt my resolve crumbling.

“Tell me about your first time, Amy,” Daddy James said softly, his breath hot against my ear. “Who was the lucky boy who got to take your virginity?”

I shook my head, trying to resist, but the words spilled out anyway. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t anyone special,” I gasped, my hips bucking involuntarily against the vibrator. “Just a guy… from the warehouse.”

“Mm, I see,” Daddy James murmured, his thumbs circling my areolas. “And how was it? Did he make you feel good?”

I bit my lip, shame and arousal warring within me. “It was… okay,” I admitted reluctantly. “Quick. Kind of… disappointing.”

Daddy James chuckled, the sound low and knowing. “I thought as much. You see, Amy, those boys don’t know how to truly please a woman. Not like the wealthy daddies who will be buying you at auction.”

His words sent a shiver through me, equal parts fear and excitement. The vibrator’s buzz seemed to intensify, and I felt a familiar tension building in my core.

“Oh, they’re going to love you, sweetheart,” Daddy James continued, his fingers expertly kneading my breasts. “These full, luscious breasts will drive them wild. And these wide, womanly hips?” His hand traced the curve of my waist, settling on my hip. “Perfect for bearing children, if that’s what your future daddy desires.”

I whimpered, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions surging through me. The vibrator hummed relentlessly against my clit, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward. My hips rocked involuntarily, seeking more contact.

“That’s it, Amy,” Daddy James murmured, his beard tickling my ear. “Let yourself feel it. Your body knows what it needs, even if your mind is still resisting.”

The tension in my core wound tighter and tighter, like a spring ready to snap. My breath came in short, sharp gasps, and I could feel a thin sheen of sweat forming on my skin. The harsh exam room lights seemed to blur and soften, my world narrowing to the points of contact where Daddy James and Dr. Reeves touched me.

“I can see you’re close,” Daddy James said, his voice low and husky. “Go ahead and come for us, Amy. Show us how responsive that beautiful body of yours can be.”

His words seemed to unlock something inside me. The spring finally snapped, and pleasure exploded through my body. I arched my back.

My body convulsed as waves of intense pleasure crashed over me. I cried out, unable to hold back the sounds of ecstasy that escaped my lips. My hips bucked wildly against the restraints, seeking more contact with the relentless vibrator.

“That’s it, Amy,” Daddy James murmured, his fingers still working my sensitive breasts. “Let it all out. Show us how good it feels.”

I whimpered, tears of shame and pleasure trickling down my cheeks. My entire body trembled, muscles clenching and unclenching as the orgasm rolled through me. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before—more intense, more all-consuming than I thought possible.

“Enjoy it, sweetheart,” Daddy James said, his voice low and commanding. “Savor every second of it. Because this is the last time you’ll be allowed to come until a daddy decides you’ve earned it.”

His words sent a fresh jolt of arousal through me, even as part of me recoiled at the idea. The thought of being denied release, of having to beg for permission to come, was both terrifying and thrilling.

“Remember,” Daddy James continued, his breath hot against my ear, “you still have that paddling coming. For your earlier misbehavior.”

To my absolute horror, the mention of the impending punishment sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through my body. My hips jerked involuntarily, grinding against the vibrator.

As the aftershocks of my orgasm still rippled through me, Daddy James’ words about the paddling sent an unexpected jolt of heat straight to my core. My eyes flew open in shock as I felt a second climax building, my body betraying me once again.

“Oh, God,” I whimpered, my hips grinding against the vibrator still buzzing relentlessly against my oversensitive clit. “No, no, no…”

But it was too late. The floodgates opened, and I found myself tumbling over the edge into another intense orgasm. My back arched off the exam table, straining against the restraints as waves of pleasure crashed over me. I cried out, a mix of ecstasy and mortification, as my body shuddered uncontrollably.

“Well, well,” Daddy James chuckled, his large hand warm on my trembling belly. “Looks like someone’s more excited about her punishment than she’d like to admit.”

I turned my face away, cheeks burning with shame, as the last tremors of my orgasm faded. How could my body betray me like this? The idea of being paddled shouldn’t arouse me. It shouldn’t.

Before I could fully catch my breath, Dr. Reeves was already packing up his equipment. “She’s all yours, Daddy James,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just witnessed my utter humiliation. “I’ll leave you to administer her punishment.”

Suddenly, before I could fully catch my breath or process what had just happened, Dr. Reeves was gone. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with Daddy James. My heart raced as I watched him reach for the restraints, his large hands making quick work of the Velcro closures.

“Time for your punishment, bad girl,” he said, his voice low and stern.

As the last restraint fell away, I tried to curl into myself, to hide my nakedness. But my limbs felt like lead, heavy and uncooperative after being bound for so long. I blinked, trying to clear the haze of unwanted pleasure from my mind.

That’s when I saw it—a white plastic paddle in Daddy James’ hand. My eyes widened, a jolt of fear cutting through the post-orgasmic fog. I tried to scramble away, but my movements were clumsy and uncoordinated.

“No, please,” I whimpered, my voice hoarse. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Daddy James just shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, Amy,” he said, almost fondly. “You know that’s not how this works. Actions have consequences.”

With ease that made me feel like a rag doll, he scooped me up and sat on the stool the doctor had vacated. Before I could even think to resist, I found myself draped over his broad thighs.

The smooth plastic of the paddle skimmed across my exposed backside, making me shiver. Daddy James’ free hand pressed firmly against my lower back, holding me in place.

“Now, Amy,” he said, his voice low and stern, “bad girls don’t get to count their strokes or thank their daddies. You’ll take your punishment until I decide you’ve learned your lesson.”

Before I could protest, the paddle whistled through the air and cracked against my bare bottom. The sting was immediate and intense, far worse than I’d imagined. I yelped, my body jerking involuntarily.

Daddy James didn’t pause. The paddle fell again and again, each strike sending shockwaves of pain through my body. The room filled with the sharp sound of plastic meeting flesh and my increasingly desperate cries.

“This is what happens to naughty girls who can’t control their mouths,” Daddy James lectured as he continued the relentless assault on my backside. The paddle seemed to find every sensitive spot, from the roundest part of my bottom to the tender skin where my thighs met my buttocks.

I squirmed and bucked, trying to escape the burning pain, but Daddy James’ grip was iron-clad. My feet kicked uselessly in the air, and I could feel tears streaming down my face.

“Please!” I sobbed, my voice breaking. “I’m sorry! I’ll be good!”

But my pleas fell on deaf ears. Daddy James kept the paddle moving, his rhythm never faltering as he spoke. “That’s right, Amy. Let it all out. A bad girl’s cries are music to her daddy’s ears.”

The burning in my backside intensified with each strike, spreading across my skin like wildfire. I couldn’t hold back my sobs, my entire body shaking with the force of them.

“You see, sweetheart,” Daddy James continued, his voice oddly gentle despite the ferocity of the paddling, “a daddy knows exactly what his naughty girl needs. Even when she doesn’t know it herself.”

The paddle cracked against my flesh again, and I let out a strangled cry. My fingers clawed uselessly at the air, seeking some kind of purchase, some way to escape the relentless onslaught.

“Your body is telling me everything I need to know,” he said, his free hand rubbing small circles on my lower back. “The way your skin flushes, the little twitches and jerks. Every reaction is a message.”

I whimpered, my mind reeling from the conflicting sensations. The pain was intense, yes, but there was something else building beneath it—a warmth that had nothing to do with the sting of the paddle.

“A good daddy,” he went on, punctuating his words with sharp swats, “knows how to read those messages. He knows exactly… when… to… stop.”

I let out a final, howling scream, and then collapsed over Daddy James’ lap as he finished at last.

“There,” his voice rumbled from above me, his tone satisfied. “Let’s get you to your cell.”