Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“What the fuck are you doing with those?” I demanded.
“I’m going to cut your clothes off, Amy,” Daddy James replied matter-of-factly, “because there’s obviously no use in asking you to strip.”
“The fuck you are!” I yelled, starting to writhe again, as if I could somehow rip apart the impossibly strong black webbing that bound me helpless to the exam table.
“You fucking asshole!” I screamed, my voice cracking with rage and fear. “Don’t you dare touch me!”
Daddy James paused, the shears hovering just above my t-shirt. His cold blue eyes locked onto mine, his expression stern but unnervingly calm. “Amy, I’m going to give you one warning. If you swear at me again, you’ll be very sorry.”
A defiant fire burned in my chest. Who the fuck did he think he was? I glared up at him, my lips curling into a snarl. “Go fuck yourself,” I spat.
Daddy James’ eyes narrowed, and I saw a flicker of… was that satisfaction? He set the shears down on a nearby tray with a soft clink. “Well, it seems you’ve earned yourself your first paddling, young lady. That will happen right after the doctor finishes your examination.”
My stomach dropped, but I tried to keep the fear from showing on my face. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He picked up the shears again and began methodically cutting away my clothes. As each piece fell away, I felt more exposed, more vulnerable. The cool air of the exam room raised goosebumps on my skin.
Daddy James’ eyes roamed over my body, and I felt a hot flush of shame creep up my neck and across my cheeks. I wanted to curl into myself, to hide, but the restraints held me open and on display.
“My, my,” Daddy James murmured, his eyes roving over my now-naked body. “What a curvy little thing you are, Amy. Those clothes were hiding quite the figure.”
I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to snap back at him. My skin felt like it was on fire, burning with humiliation as his gaze lingered on my breasts, my hips, my thighs. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the exam table and vanish.
His hand ghosted over my hip, not quite touching. “Such soft skin,” he mused. “But my goodness, you’re quite the hairy little girl, aren’t you?”
My cheeks blazed hotter. I’d always been self-conscious about how quickly my body hair grew back after shaving. Now, exposed under the harsh exam room lights, I was acutely aware of the dark fuzz on my legs, the patch of hair between my thighs, even the light dusting across my arms.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Daddy James said, his tone mockingly soothing. “We’ll take care of all this unsightly hair for you. Every last bit of it will be waxed away, except for that lovely mane on your head. The men who’ll be enjoying your body prefer their girls nice and smooth.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out his words, but they burrowed into my brain. The thought of strange men’s hands on my newly bare skin made my stomach churn. I bit my lip hard, determined not to let Daddy James see how his words affected me.
Just then, the door opened with a soft whoosh. I craned my neck as much as the restraint would allow and saw a middle-aged man in a white coat enter. He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Hello, Amy,” he said, his voice clinically detached. “I’m Dr. Reeves. I’m here to perform your examination and ensure you’re ready for your training and use.”
My breath caught in my throat. Use. The casual way he said it, as if I were nothing more than an object, sent a chill down my spine.
Daddy James placed a large hand on my shoulder, his touch firm but not painful. “Amy, Dr. Reeves is going to do a very thorough examination. He’s not just checking your physical health—he’s going to demonstrate to you that you’re in exactly the right place.”
I frowned, confused. “What the hell does that mean?”
Dr. Reeves chuckled, pulling on a pair of latex gloves with a snap that made me flinch. “It means, my dear, that your body is going to betray all those defiant words coming out of that pretty mouth of yours.”
As the doctor approached the foot of the exam table, Daddy James leaned in close, his beard tickling my ear as he whispered, “Remember what I said, honey. Behave yourself. You already have a paddling coming—don’t make it worse.”
As Dr. Reeves approached, I tried to squeeze my thighs together, but the stirrups held my legs spread wide. My heart pounded as his gloved hands touched my inner thighs.
“Now, now,” he chided, “no need to be shy. We’re going to get to know your body very well.”
His fingers probed between my legs and I gasped, twisting against the restraints. “Stop!” I cried out. “Don’t touch me there!”