A Bad Girl’s Needs – The Institute Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
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“Rise and shine, bad girls!” Miss Frieda’s voice rang out, crisp and authoritative. “Today is a very special day for you all.”

I scrambled to my feet, standing at attention as I’d been taught. Through the small barred window of my cell, I could catch quick flashes Miss Frieda’s lithe form stalking up and down the corridor, her green eyes sharp and alert despite the early hour.

“Two very important guests have arrived at our Facility,” she continued, her voice carrying easily to every cell. “These gentlemen have paid a considerable sum for the privilege of enjoying our little bad girl program, and they’re eager to inspect the merchandise.”

A shiver ran down my spine at her words. Merchandise. Was that all we were now? My stomach twisted.

The unmistakable cadence of Miss Frieda’s heels kept time with her words as she paced the cell block. “Listen carefully, girls. When your cell doors open, you will step out immediately and assume the inspection position. Back straight, legs spread, hands clasped behind your head. These daddies will want to examine every inch of you.”

My heart raced as I listened, a mixture of fear and unwanted arousal coursing through me. I could hear the gasps of the other girls as Miss Frieda’s words sank in.

“Remember,” she continued, her voice low and menacing, “these men have paid handsomely for the privilege of using you however they see fit. There will be no hesitation, no questioning, no disobedience of any kind. You will submit to their every whim with gratitude and enthusiasm.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. The thought of being inspected, touched, used by strange men sent a confusing mix of revulsion and excitement through my body. I hated myself for the way my nipples hardened and my pussy clenched in anticipation.

“Prepare yourselves, bad girls,” Miss Frieda purred. “Your daddies are waiting.”

There was a moment of tense silence, then Miss Frieda called out, “Mr. Samuel, please open the cell doors.”

I heard the loud buzz of the electronic locks disengaging echo through the cell block. My door swung open with a metallic creak.

The open door seemed to mock me, a gaping maw ready to swallow me whole. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a thunderous reminder of my predicament. I knew I should move, knew that hesitation would only bring swift and painful punishment. Yet my feet remained rooted to the cold concrete floor of my cell, my muscles frozen in a paralysis of fear and conflicting desires.

My mind raced, a whirlwind of contradictory thoughts and emotions. Part of me wanted to retreat to the furthest corner of the cell, to curl up in a ball and make myself as small as possible. Another part, a traitorous voice that had grown louder with each passing day, urged me to step out and assume the inspection position as ordered. The wetness gathering between my thighs betrayed my body’s eagerness, even as my mind recoiled.

I could hear the shuffling and soft whimpers of the other girls as they emerged from their cells, their bare feet padding on the cold floor. The sound only heightened my anxiety, knowing that with each passing second, I was falling further out of line.

Just as I was about to force my trembling legs into motion, a figure appeared in my doorway, blocking the harsh fluorescent light from the corridor. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the man before me. He cut an imposing figure in his beautifully tailored navy business suit, the crisp lines of the fabric accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist.

“Amy,” he said, his voice very stern. “I’m Daddy Daniel. Get your naughty backside out here this instant.”

His cool blue eyes locked onto mine, pinning me in place with their intensity. The air seemed to crackle with tension as he filled the doorway, his presence overwhelming in the confined space of my cell. His blond hair was impeccably styled, not a strand out of place, making me self-conscious of my own tangled locks.

“I…” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, I…”

But Daddy Daniel didn’t wait for my fumbling apology. In two swift strides, he crossed the small cell and grabbed my upper arm, his grip firm but not painful. “When I give you an order, young lady,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “I expect immediate compliance.”

CHAPTER 6

Amy

Daddy Daniel pulled me toward the door, and I stumbled along, my bare feet slapping against the cold concrete. As we emerged into the harsh fluorescent light of the corridor, I blinked rapidly, momentarily blinded. The cool air raised goosebumps across my naked skin, and I felt my nipples harden in response.

“Now,” he said, releasing my arm, “assume the inspection position. Quickly.”

A glance to my left and right showed that all the other bad girls had already gotten into the embarrassing posture. Somehow that made it worse rather than better. My cheeks burning with shame, I spread my legs and clasped my hands behind my head.



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