If I was legitimately sick, he would, but I had said I would go three times a week and he had said he would hold me to that. I sat on the stairs and sullenly put on my socks and sneakers. I sighed and dragged my sweatshirt along the floor as I walked to the door. "Come here," Daddy said, sharply. I stiffened at his tone and walked into the living room. "Yes, Daddy?" I said, as sweetly as I could. I went to him and stood in front of him. He took both my wrists in his hands. "Don't 'Yes, Daddy' me, Little Girl. You've had your pout, now go work that slutty body out good for me. I will know if you don’t." "Yes, Sir," I said. Just as my hand touched the door knob to the front door, Daddy said, "And while you are working out I want you to say your chant." "Yes, Daddy," I called and walked out the door. Early on in our relationship Daddy had punished me once by having me write lines. I had to write, "I am my Daddy's slut" 500 times. Even as my wrist and fingers began to ache, my pussy. Ben wasn’t a stranger, but he was still just another cock and that meant in her mind, just another client. The deed was done just to his liking. Ben stood there, his fist wrapped around her hair and his hips thrusting forward, forcing Candice to take every last inch of his rock hard penis. He wanted more from her, he wanted her on her back, on her hands and knees, he wanted to watch all her orifices being stretched and pulled as cock after cock tore into her. He imagined her on Jon’s dinner table. Her body tied down, men climbing on top of her and using her for what she was – a whore – their personal cum slut. He groaned and shot his load into her mouth, and when she was done licking him clean, he pushed her away. He looked down, noticed the disgust in her eyes and wondered if maybe it wasn’t time to remind the young girl who was in charge. ‘New Year’s Eve,’ he told her, before tucking his wet dick back into his pants and zipping up. He left her alone and headed back to the party,.
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