Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 66851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I felt like I didn’t appreciate one of Ashley’s daddies talking about me that way, as if he could see inside my heart. Yes, Ashley and I were friends, and I liked my fellow SRD very much. But such good friends… well, it felt presumptuous, especially coming from a daddy who wasn’t my daddy. I felt like I wanted to do something to show all the daddies that I might have seemed to have complied with their insanity, but that they shouldn’t presume.
A rational part of my brain told me that I might not be thinking straight. The daddies had treated both of us with nothing but presumption, hadn’t they? Selecta had entitled them to presume, after all: to presume to such an extent that they had the authority and the power to spank me, paddle me, whip me, and then to fuck me raw whenever they pleased. They had taken away my right to wear clothing, for God’s sake. If that didn’t represent more presumption than saying that I had become good friends with the lovely young woman who shared my fate, I should have my head examined, shouldn’t I?
That didn’t change the way it felt, and the way it brought back the defiance in me more strongly than I would have imagined possible. The sensible voice in my head wondered if it had something to do with the announcement that the daddies intended to cross a taboo line they hadn’t yet crossed—one that maybe shouldn’t have seemed as bright to me as it did, given that they had made us “help” during one another’s fuckings.
Above all, the idea that Daddy Jacob and Daddy Phil meant to share me with Daddy Ned and Daddy Paul, and expected to have Ashley shared with them, too… well, it made me fidget in my desk chair when I began my office shift. I had only met my daddies a week ago, my logical brain said. How could I have become attached to them that way?
But I had. Especially Daddy Jacob. Every time I thought of him offering to his friends and colleagues my body, my pussy, my mouth, and above all my anus… the places where my bear daddy always took so much pleasure… for whose delights he praised me without fail, whenever he came there and left me full of his hot seed… I had to choke down a petulant little sob, even as I felt a helpless spasm between my thighs.
So when the call came in about the fire sighted in the woods north of the plant, I couldn’t deny that I was distracted.
CHAPTER 26
Jacob
The first inkling Phil and I had that something was wrong came in the form of a garbled voice message from Marianne. We’d been underneath one of the big turbine assemblies, looking at a spot of metal fatigue on a rotor-housing. Nothing satellites or cell-towers could do about the complete lack of signal there, so it was only when we re-emerged that the message came through.
“Daddy,” Marianne said breathlessly, “there’s a thing on the map… the big one. It set off an alarm. It’s only a few hundred meters away, so… well, anyway, I’m sure I’ll be back in the office by the time you get this message, so it’s no big deal. I… I mean… see you when you get back!”
Phil’s brows knit, as if he could see on my face that I’d heard something confusing.
“That was Marianne,” I told him. “I think she might have left the firehouse.”
“What?” Phil demanded. “Without any clothes on? What the fuck?”
I turned back to my phone and saw the alert Marianne must have been talking about.
Possible brush fire. Priority 1. Visual surveillance required to confirm video feed AI analysis.
I tapped on it and saw the map—the handheld version of what Marianne must have called “the big one”: our real-time geolocation feed. The dot indicating the approximate place a video sensor had picked up something that looked like it might be a fire lay about eight hundred meters northwest of the station, about fifty meters into the wooded perimeter of the plant.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Phil said, looking over my shoulder at my handheld. “You don’t think…”
I pulled up my contacts and tapped the thumbnail of Marianne’s gorgeous face that Selecta had automatically put there to go with, Marianne Givens, Sexual Relief Device, in the personnel section of my dashboard. Instantly the map returned, with a new dot, attached to an even smaller version of the thumbnail.
“Dammit,” I muttered.
“What the hell?” Phil asked. “She’s like twenty meters from the fire.”
“Let’s hope it’s not actually a fire,” I said grimly.
Probably fifty percent of the things the video feed AI detected were just tricks of the light. They all had to be investigated, obviously. I told myself that maybe Marianne knew that, and that she’d decided to go out there just to get eyes on it. Not really a terrible idea, if it hadn’t also violated every single fucking rule for her role at the firehouse. Worse, her position meant she had gone outside the plant’s fence—without, of course, calling it into Selecta, which absolutely had to happen every time one of us left the premises, let alone an SRD.