Page 7 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)

Chapter Six

Ezra

She’s a vision, our naughty little princess, draped over my lap with her pink bottom on display as she whimpers and pants through her orgasm. Everything we’ve ever wanted, everything we’ve worked toward the past five years is finally here.

And she’s so much more perfect than I ever could have dreamed.

Other than her language, which I’ll need to address later, especially if she can’t curb those impulses. For now, however, all I want is to watch her come apart again.

Shifting to kneel in front of us, Byron looks up, his pale gaze locking with mine. And I can see everything I’m thinking, everything I’m feeling reflected back at me.

“Daddy Byron is going to spank you now, princess,” I explain, slowly pumping my fingers in and out of her spasming pussy. “I hope you’re learning your lesson about what happens to dirty little girls who like to spy on people.”

I'm not angry about it and neither is Byron. But knowing our Little girl was so turned on by watching us together was an opportunity neither of us could pass up.

Byron swats her, and I have the pleasure of watching her skin turn ever pinker as he spanks.

With every swat, her little pussy squeezes my fingers even tighter, and if I hadn’t just come down my boy’s throat I might embarrass myself right here at the thought of what she’ll feel like around my cock when I fuck her.

Sliding my slick fingers from her, I find her clit, swollen with need.

Nicole whines when I roll it between my fingers, shifting her hips, though whether she’s trying to escape my touch or work herself toward another orgasm even quicker, I’m not sure.

I don’t think even she knows what she wants at this point.

“Please… please…” Her voice pitches up to a whine as she pushes her hips backward against my hand.

“Please, what, princess? Who am I?”

“Oh, god.” She lets out a low groan. “Can’t—Can’t call you th-that.”

“Yes you can, princess,” Byron coaxes in that gentle way he has, even as he lands an extra hard swat to her bottom. “Who are we? It’s just one little word and then you can have your next orgasm.”

She’s frantic now, whimpering and whining as her hips grind against my thigh. “Please! Please, I’m dying .”

“You aren’t dying, little one.” I can’t help but laugh at her dramatics. “But until you beg me properly, you won't be getting another. I’m perfectly content to keep you over my lap the rest of the day, teasing you with pleasure kept just out of reach until you obey.”

“No!” The word comes out as a long, plaintive wail.

“Yes.” I press harder on her clit, working her toward that edge without allowing her to fall over it just yet. “Don’t you want to show your Daddies what a good girl you can be, Nicole?”

“I’m n-not a g-good girl,” she pants out, and there’s so much conviction in those words it nearly shatters my heart.

“I don’t believe that for a second. And I don’t think Daddy Byron does, either.”

“Nope.” Picking up the pace on his swats, he spanks even harder, her bottom turning a beautiful rose color beneath his palm.

“You are a very good girl, princess. And more importantly, you’re our good girl.

Now, beg Daddy Ezra to let you come so we can watch our good girl get the pleasure she deserves. ”

It takes several long minutes of coaxing, of telling her what a good girl she is, of me taking her just to the edge of oblivion and yanking her back from the edge before she breaks.

“Please, Daddy!” She screams, bucking wildly over my lap. “Please, please, let me come, Daddy, please .”

“That’s our good fucking girl,” I growl, shoving my fingers inside and sending her flying.

Her cries of pleasure echo around the room and I don’t give her a second to recover before driving her up over that peak again. And again. And again. All while Byron continues to spank her bottom to a hot, bright pink.

It isn’t until she’s collapsed over my knee, unable to even move that I relent. She’s practically boneless in my arms as I cradle her, rocking her gently.

“Byron, I think we have some milk in the fridge. Why don’t you make our sweet princess a bottle,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb her just yet.

Nodding, Byron rises to his feet and hurries out to the kitchen still completely nude.

He returns a few minutes later with a bottle full of cold milk.

It isn’t the proper kind of milk for Little girls, but we have a source for that.

One of the professors here at the school is a Mommy waiting on her own Little girl, and she’s been pumping for months in anticipation of finding her.

Scarlett has plenty of milk stockpiled in her freezer, and she’s already told us we’re welcome to it when the need arises.

Making a mental note to talk to Scarlett later, I bring the bottle to Nicole’s lips, watching in fascination as she sucks the rubber tip with a quiet sigh.

And when I lift my head to meet Byron’s gaze, my heart constricts in my chest. Nothing could be sweeter than this moment, with our baby girl in my arms as my boy looks on with tears of joy in his eyes. Absolutely nothing.

Nicole

I wake from my nap feeling oddly refreshed. Probably because I was so completely wrung out from those multiple orgasms before they put me back in my crib. And as I sit up, looking around the bedroom I found myself in just this morning, I wonder if I should just… stay.

After all, it’s not like I would have made anything of myself in New York. I might have had grand dreams of pursuing some kind of acting career but realistically I know that hardly ever pans out. And even if it did, I’d still be busting my ass just to afford a shitty apartment.

So if the alternative is letting a couple hot guys treat me like a babygirl and spank me from time to time in exchange for a swanky place to live and three meals a day, it seems like a pretty good deal, all things considered.

At least until they get tired of me and send me packing.

But hopefully I’ll have enough time to come up with a better plan of action for the next stage of my life before that happens.

Worst-case scenario, I have somewhere warm and dry to sleep and plenty of food in the meantime.

Pushing up in my crib—yup that still feels weird as fuck but hey, it’s a bed—I look around. After all that milk right before my nap, my bladder is making itself known and I need to pee. Scanning the sides of the crib, I look for a latch or something so I can let myself out.

A hint of silver catches my eye and I leverage up onto my knees, looking over the side. It’s a latch, just as I expected, with a matching one on the opposite side.

Just as I’m reaching for them to lower the side of the crib, the sound of someone clearing their throat stops me in my tracks.

“What are you doing, princess?”

Daddy Byron’s voice holds more curiosity and humor than anger, which seems like a good sign. But my stomach still ties itself into a knot as I look up. “I need to use the bathroom.”

His face lights up, which only makes those knots in my stomach even tighter. “Oh, excellent. Ezra! Our little princess needs to potty.”

God, does he have to say it like that? I know I’m supposed to be their baby or whatever, but geez. It’s almost like they enjoy humiliating me.

Then again, after what I witnessed them doing together earlier, maybe they do. At least, Daddy Ezra definitely seems to enjoy a bit of embarrassment with his sex.

The man himself steps into the room, his dark eyes bright with excitement. “Do you need to potty, little one?”

“I need to use the bathroom,” I repeat, the stubbornness that I know will be my downfall kicking in. For whatever reason, I can’t bring myself to simply say “Yes, Daddy” when they’re talking to me this way.

“Little girls don’t use the bathroom,” Daddy Ezra says, his words leaving no room for argument. “They go potty in their diapers.”

It takes a moment for his words to fully register. And when they do, horror washes over me.

Absolutely the fuck not.

I do have some sense of self-preservation, however, so I swallow the profanity-laden response and opt for pouting up at them instead, forcing my eyes wide as I let my bottom lip tremble. “Please don’t make me do that, Daddy.”

Everything about Daddy Ezra seems to soften at my plea and he steps forward to run a hand over my hair. “I know it’s hard, princess. But you’ll get used to it after a while.”

“I don’t wanna get used to it!” Once again, I realize how much I actually sound like a whiny Little girl and a wave of humiliation crashes over me. What is it about these men that brings me to this state so easily?

Daddy Byron takes his place beside Ezra, his smile sympathetic. “It’ll be okay, princess. Let us help you.”

Before I can ask what he means, he plucks me from the crib and carries me over to the changing table and lays me flat on my back. They strap me in, just like before, and Daddy Ezra presses on my stomach.

Right on my bladder.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I resist the urge to pee, though it’s growing more and more insistent by the second.

But then another sensation joins the painful pressure. A slight pinch as someone captures my nipple between their fingers and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Open your eyes, my sweet little princess.” Daddy Byron’s voice is soft, cajoling even, with a sing-song quality that has my eyes slowly fluttering open as he toys with my breast. “There’s our pretty girl. Use your diaper like a good girl and you can have another orgasm. How does that sound?”

“You spoil her,” Daddy Ezra mutters, but the corners of his lips are lifted in a slight smile when he says it. “She’s going to expect a treat every time she does something she’s supposed to at this rate.”

“As she should. Our sweet girl should have all the orgasms she can handle. And more.”

Pain and pleasure flash through me in equal measure as Daddy Byron gives my nipple a harder pinch. “It would make your Daddies so happy if you used your diaper, princess.”

If I keep them happy, they’re much less likely to send me away. Or it will at least take longer for them to grow tired of me.

And there is still that promised orgasm on the table.

With my eyes still locked with Daddy Byron’s pale gaze, I breathe in deeply through my nose and force my muscles to loosen. Daddy Ezra presses down even harder on my bladder and the next thing I know, I’m doing exactly as they’ve asked.

I’m wetting my diaper.

Like a baby.

Oh. My. God .

“Our sweet, sweet girl,” Daddy Byron whispers, still playing with my nipples as urine fills the soft cotton of my diaper. “We’re so proud of you, princess. Aren’t we, Ezra?”

“We are so very proud of you.” The confirmation comes as he pulls the diaper from me, using it to wipe me clean before wrapping it up and tossing it in a bin. Something cold and wet presses against my exposed pussy, and I realize he must be using a wet wipe to finish cleaning me.

“There. Nice and clean for Daddy Byron to give you the reward he promised you.”

My two Daddies change positions, with Daddy Byron standing at the end of the changing table. Placing his hands on my knees, he nudges them further apart—and all but dives between my thighs.

It’s a good thing I’m strapped to the changing table because at the first touch of his tongue to my clit, I arch up with a cry. If I wasn’t strapped down, I no doubt would have fallen right off.

Pleasure shoots through me, like a bolt of lightning setting every nerve ending I own on fire. “Daddy!”

The cry is torn from my throat, and above me, Daddy Ezra chuckles. “That’s it, princess. Let us hear you come screaming for us.”

As if I have a choice. Despite the multiple orgasms they gifted me with before my nap, this one rips through me with all the ferocity of an F5 tornado. Leaving me wrecked and breathless in its wake as Daddy Byron straightens, my juices still coating his chin as he grins.

“That didn’t take long. Our Little girl is so responsive.”

“She certainly is. I have a feeling orgasm denial is going to be a very effective punishment for her.”

Denial? As in, no more of those very, very yummy orgasms?

He’s right. I’d do just about anything to avoid that fate.

But I’m too wiped out from the pleasure they just forced on me to comment, so I stay silent as Daddy Ezra puts a fresh diaper on me and fixes my onesie.

Daddy Byron undoes the strap across my stomach and picks me up, letting me wrap myself around him as he carries me to a large, gliding armchair.

And as I sit there, curled up in his lap as he rocks me, all I can think is that I hope it’s a very long time before they decide to send me away.