Page 45 of What Bad Girls Deserve
“You see,” Jax said to Rudy and Mateo as he rubbed the newest welt, “when her bottom is properly warmed like this, it changes her brain chemistry. The pain receptors and pleasure centers start to blur.”
The belt cracked across my skin again. I sobbed, my hips writhing despite my best efforts to stay still.
“When I fuck her after a whipping,” Jax continued, his voice clinical as he addressed his bodyguards, “she comes harder than at any other time. Isn’t that right, Little Lulu?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whimpered, my face burning with humiliation.
“And soon,” he said, landing another precise stroke that made me jerk forward, “you’ll both experience that for yourselves. Once her bottom is properly prepared, you’ll take turns with her.”
Rudy’s hand squeezed one burning cheek. “Will we use all her holes, sir?”
“Of course,” Jax replied, as if describing a business arrangement. “Her mouth, her pussy, and that tight little bottom I claimed last night. She needs to understand that all of her belongs to her daddies now.”
The belt whistled through the air again, landing with terrible precision across the already sensitive skin. I screamed into the bedspread, my body trembling.
“You’ll find,” Jax told them as he paused to let the pain settle into my flesh, “that she gets particularly wet when you use her bottom. The tighter the hole, the more she seems to respond to it being stretched.”
Mateo’s fingers traced the crease between my bottom cheeks, making me shiver. “I look forward to testing that theory, sir.”
Another stroke fell, and another. I lost count as the fire spread across my skin, consuming me. My pussy clenched with every lash, growing wetter and more desperate between the lashes, despite the steady increase of the pain.
“Tell me, Little Lulu,” Jax said, his voice cutting through the haze of sensation, “why does your bottom need whipping before you get fucked?”
I struggled to form words through my tears. “B-because…” I swallowed hard, my voice rising to that childish register that seemed to please him, “because bad girls only get fucked with a sore bottom, Daddy.”
“Very good,” Jax murmured, his hand caressing my flaming skin with surprising tenderness. “And what are you?”
“A bad girl,” I whispered, the admission sending a thrill to my pussy that brought heat to my face as well.
“That’s my good girl,” Jax said, his voice a mixture of pride and dominance. “My perfect little bad girl who knows exactly what she is.”
The belt whistled through the air again, landing with vicious precision across the center of my bottom. I screamed, the pain so intense I saw stars behind my closed eyelids. Another lash followed, much more quickly than any of the previous ones. Then another, and by that stroke, I had started to sob uncontrollably, my entire body shaking with each impact. The belt seemed to land with impossible force, each lash more painful than the last.
Jax continued relentlessly, the leather cracking against my tender flesh again and again. The next stroke caught that sensitive crease where my bottom met my thighs again, and I howled, my voice breaking with the intensity of my pain. The following lash was worse, crossing over several existing welts and igniting a fire that consumed me entirely.
“Daddy… Daddy… please… Daddy… no more, please,” I screamed, my face wet with tears, my body trembling uncontrollably. But Jax kept whipping me, over and over, until I lay completely limp over the pillows.
Abruptly, the lashes stopped. I heard what I thought was Jax setting the belt aside, the buckle clicking atop the dresser, and suddenly the pain transformed. The burning in my bottom seemed to connect directly to my core, sending waves of desperate need crashing through me. I couldn’t believe what was happening—my punishment had ended, but instead of relief, I felt only raging, unbearable arousal.
Suddenly, without any command from Jax, all three men began touching me at once.
Three pairs of hands caressed my burning flesh, exploring, possessing, claiming. The sensation of being touched by three men at once, of being completely overwhelmed by their collective attention, made me whimper with shameful need.
In that moment, everything crystallized with shocking clarity. This was Jax’s true lesson. Not just that pain could become pleasure, but that my entire happiness—my very sense of self—depended on accepting this dark, hungry part of me that craved submission, that needed to be punished and used by my daddy… by my daddies… by these enormous men. The bad girl inside me wasn’t something to be denied or escaped. She was me.
Mateo’s hands cupped my breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thumbs flicked across my nipples. Rudy’s fingers explored between my legs, sliding easily through my embarrassing wetness. Jax’s hands spread my bottom cheeks apart, exposing my most intimate hole to his probing touch.
The triple assault on my senses was overwhelming. I felt myself spiraling toward orgasm with frightening speed, my entire body trembling on the precipice of release.
A sharp beep cut through the haze of sensation. Jax’s watch. I knew instantly what it meant—the sensor between my legs had betrayed me again, alerting my daddies that I was about to come.
Fear shot through me, momentarily eclipsing my arousal. What if I came without permission? Surely Jax would start whipping me again, and I knew I could never bear that.
“Please, Daddy!” I gasped, desperately turning my head to look at Jax. “Please, may I come? I need to come so badly!”
Jax’s gray eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he continued to spread my burning cheeks. “Yes, Little Lulu. You may come. In fact,” he added, his voice dropping to a purr, “you’re going to come so much tonight that you’ll be begging me to stop before we’re done with you.”
The permission unleashed something primal within me. I screamed as the orgasm tore through my body, my pussy clenching violently around Rudy’s thick fingers while Mateo pinched my nipples hard. The climax seemed to go on forever, waves of pleasure crashing through me until I collapsed, trembling and gasping.
