Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Lower,” Fifty-Three instructed. “We want to see you wash that pretty little cunt your daddies shaved for you.”
My face burned as I moved my soapy hands down my stomach. When my fingers reached the bare mound between my legs, I couldn’t suppress a gasp. The sensitivity was overwhelming—every nerve ending felt electric. The soap stung slightly against my freshly shaved skin, and the touch of my own fingers sent unwanted sparks of sensation through my body.
“Look how sensitive she is,” Seventy observed, her voice carrying a note of sympathy. “That’s how it feels the first few days after they shave you.”
“Spread your legs wider,” Fifty-Three commanded. “Show us how you clean yourself.”
I widened my stance, the warm water cascading down my body as I worked my fingers between my legs. The touch against my clit made me bite my lip—not just from the soreness, but from the treacherous arousal that flared despite everything. After the night I’d spent with the vibrator, my body was primed to respond to the slightest stimulation.
“That’s it,” Fifty-Three said, her voice taking on that same patronizing tone my daddies used. “Now reach back and clean your bottom crack. Make sure you get all the way inside.”
My stomach dropped. She couldn’t mean—
“Do it, Seventy-One,” she said more sharply. “Or would you rather I report to your daddies that you refused to follow basic hygiene instructions?”
The threat was clear. More paddling. More time bent over that bench. My hand trembled as I reached behind myself, soaping between my cheeks while the other girls watched. The humiliation was crushing—worse somehow than anything my daddies had done to me, because these were my peers. Other women my age who were witnessing my degradation.
“Put a finger inside,” Fifty-Three instructed. “Your little hole needs to be clean for your daddies.”
“I can’t,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“Don’t be absurd.” Her tone left no room for argument. “You got plugged on your first day just like the rest of us. You can definitely get a finger in there.”
I closed my eyes, tears mixing with the shower spray on my face. My soapy finger found my anus and I pressed against the tight opening. The resistance was immediate, my body clenching against the intrusion. But I forced myself to push harder, feeling the terrible ambiguity of the stretch as my finger breached the ring of muscle.
The other girls were silent now, watching with what might have been sympathy or might have been something darker. I worked my finger deeper, the sensation making me want to die from shame. This was my own finger violating myself while they watched, and somehow that made it worse than when my daddies had done it.
“Good girl,” Fifty-Three said when I finally withdrew my shaking hand. “Now rinse off and come here. It’s time for your special duty.”
I stood under the spray, washing away the soap with water that felt too hot against my oversensitive skin. When I finally turned off the shower, Fifty-Three was waiting with a towel.
“Dry yourself,” she said, handing it to me.
I took the towel and dried my body with mechanical movements, my mind trying desperately to disconnect from what was about to happen. But I couldn’t. My hands shook as I patted my newly bare pussy dry, as I ran the towel between my legs and over my punished bottom.
“Now kneel,” Fifty-Three commanded. “You can roll up the towel and put it down to kneel on.”
I sank to my knees on the rolled terrycloth, the surface pressing into my kneecaps hard, even with the padding. The position put my face level with Fifty-Three’s hips, and my stomach clenched with dread and helpless anticipation.
“The newest girl serves all her sisters,” Fifty-Three explained, her voice taking on a lecturing quality. “You’re going to greet each of us with your mouth. Starting with our pussies, then our bottoms. And when you’re done licking, you’re going to kiss each of our assholes to show your gratitude for being accepted into our sisterhood.”
The crude words made my whole body flare with heat. Kiss their assholes. The degradation of it was beyond anything I’d imagined. This was about more than sex or submission—it was about establishing hierarchy, about making me understand exactly where I stood in this twisted social structure.
“Start with Sixty-Eight,” Fifty-Three said, gesturing to the quiet Japanese girl. “She’s the kindest. She’ll help you learn.”
Sixty-Eight moved closer, her expression gentle despite the situation. She spread her legs slightly, giving me access, and I saw her pussy glistening with water from the shower. The pink flesh peeked out from between her lips, vulnerable and intimate.
“It’s okay,” Sixty-Eight whispered, reaching down to stroke my wet hair. “Just use your tongue. Just, you know, say hello like you’re supposed to.”
CHAPTER 11
Pam
I leaned forward, my hands braced on my thighs, and pressed my face between her legs. The first taste of her flooded my senses—clean from the shower but unmistakably female, musky and intimate in a way that made my stomach clench. I’d never done this before, never even fantasized about it before last night, and the wrongness of it made fresh tears spring to my eyes.