“Come for me, you dirty little whore,” the warlord growled in that voice that came so, so close to the real voice of authority… so close that I felt a conflict—no, a war—break out in my body, between the two uses of the voice. If my real daddies had given me different commands, each new one would replace the old; they all had equal authority, according to the way Selecta had trained me. Here, with one daddy who I loved and who knew how to use the voice, and another who I feared—and who had his hardness in my mouth and had commanded his minion to fuck my ass—my body couldn’t figure out which command to obey.
The fingers on my clit moved in a way far more skillful than I would have given such an evil man credit for. The need to come and the prohibition against coming made me sob. Papa Nicolai pulled his cock out until he could tease me with it. He put it in again, pushing it against the inside of my cheek and then tapping that cheek on the outside with his fingertips, something I always found so degrading when a daddy did it that it typically made me clench.
I cried out at the sensation, sure that if the warlord and his henchman hadn’t yet figured out that for some reason I couldn’t come, they would realize it now, thanks to the terrible tension in my body. Then, with what felt like the last shred of my conscious thought, I faked it—not the way I’d done on the streets of Hoboken, with little shrieks and cries of “Yes… Yes… oh, God… Yes,” but as close to the way I came for my daddies as I could manage on my own.
I screamed and bucked. I raised my hips to push my ass against Ivan’s thrusting cock and I heard him grunt in his own forced pleasure to feel himself so deep in my bad girl hole. I suckled desperately at Papa Nicolai’s hard penis, trying only to please my brutal papa, to make him want to treat me like a good girl… like a treasure to keep rather than a fuck toy to give away.
As I faked it, though, something else happened. I could never have put it into words, since it didn’t involve conscious thought. I started to come for real: my body broke through the command Papa Georg had given me in the real voice of authority, and suddenly I sensed—I didn’t know, because my brain couldn’t know anything, just then—that if I wanted, I could defy even the voice of authority.
Such a bad girl,said some voice inside me. Such a badass. Papa Georg’s voice, I thought: Papa Georg saying I could do what I chose… I could let his voice control me, or I could choose.
I chose: I came, because Papa Nicolai wanted to reward me for being such a filthy little slut. The fake movements of my body gave way to the real movements of climax, and as they kept using me, I became a single thing for long moments… all ecstasy, all pleasure.
Dimly, as I came back to reality, I understood that Ivan had pulled his cock from my anus, and my papas had picked me up off the bench. I saw Vassily getting onto the bench, on his back, his enormous cock jutting up like a wooden post from his lap. Papa Georg had me in his arms, hefting me lightly, curled up almost in a ball, and he had started turning me and lowering me toward the huge manhood threatening my pussy.
“Oh… Papa…” I whimpered. “Please… no.”