The bus came to a stop near our group, its doors hissing open. A tall man in a crisp blue uniform stepped out, his posture military straight. He had short gray hair and a weathered face that I thought must have seen too much to be surprised by anything.
“Daddy Pete,” Jax called out, stepping forward to shake the man’s hand. “Thank you for your punctuality.”
The uniformed man nodded respectfully. “Mr. Walton. Always a pleasure.”
“Oscar, Viktor,” Jax said, gesturing to the newcomer, “I’d like you to meet Daddy Pete, warden of the city’s Selecta Corrections Bad Girls Facility.”
The men exchanged handshakes, their expressions calculating as they sized each other up.
“Thank you for this opportunity to supplement my salary,” Daddy Pete said with a thin smile. “Times are hard, even for those of us in corrections.”
Jax reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope, passing it to the warden. “As agreed. Twelve girls, all properly prepared.”
My stomach twisted as I realized what was happening. Daddy Pete turned back to the bus and clapped his hands twice. “All right, ladies! Line up, now!”
One by one, young women filed out of the bus, each dressed in a uniform similar to mine—white blouses, plaid skirts, knee socks. Their expressions ranged from terrified to resigned as they formed a line in front of us. I counted twelve of them, each wearing a collar identical to mine, though the tags on theirs all readSelecta BGF.
“These are all participants in our Bad Girls Program,” Daddy Pete explained to Oscar and Viktor. “Nonviolent offenders who have shown a particular aptitude for rehabilitation through submission.”
I stared at the girls, a chill running through me as I recognized the look in their eyes. It was the same look I’d seen in myown reflection these past days—the confusion, the shame, and underneath it all, the unwanted arousal. These girls, like me, had been caught in Selecta’s web, taught to stop running from their forbidden submissive needs.
“They will do exactly as you gentlemen say,” Daddy Pete continued, addressing the girls now. “Won’t you, girls?”
“Yes, Daddy Pete,” they chorused, their voices imbued to my ears with reluctant submission.
Oscar and Viktor exchanged pleased glances. “Excellent,” Oscar said. “Shall we proceed upstairs?”
Jax turned to the bodyguards—Rudy, Mateo, and the four men who had accompanied Oscar and Viktor. “With your employers’ permission, gentlemen, please escort these lovely ladies to the main hall. Make sure they’re properly secured over the benches.”
The bodyguards nodded, moving forward to herd the girls toward a service elevator. I watched them go, my heart pounding for them even as my own fate loomed before me.
“Little Lulu will come with us,” Jax said, his hand returning to the back of my neck. “I believe Oscar and Viktor have been looking forward to her company.”
We entered a different elevator, this one paneled in rich mahogany with brass fixtures. As the doors closed, I found myself sandwiched between Oscar and Viktor, their bodies pressing against mine from both sides. Oscar’s hands moved to my breasts, his fingers slipping inside my open blouse to cup them through the thin lace of my training bra. At the same time, Viktor’s hand slid under my skirt, his thick fingers probing between my legs.
“So wet already,” he murmured, his accent thickening with arousal. “Such a needy little girl.”
I caught Jax’s eye over Oscar’s shoulder. He gave me an almost imperceptible nod, and I remembered my role. I had to make them believe I wanted this. I had to be the perfect bad girl.
“Please,” I whispered, pushing my hips against Viktor’s invasive fingers. “Please touch me more, Uncle Viktor.”
Oscar chuckled, pinching my nipple hard enough to make me gasp. “She begs so prettily, doesn’t she?”
The elevator doors opened to reveal a corridor lined with rich burgundy carpet. Jax led the way, followed by Oscar and Viktor who flanked me closely, their hands never leaving my body. We approached a set of ornate double doors, behind which I could hear the murmur of many male voices.
“Ready, Little Lulu?” Jax asked, his hand on the door handle.
I nodded, steeling myself for what was to come. “Yes, Daddy.”
The doors swung open to reveal a splendid hall that took my breath away. Crystal chandeliers hung from a vaulted ceiling, casting warm light over polished wood floors and elegant furnishings. Around the perimeter stood twelve padded benches, and strapped over each bench was one of the girls from the bus, their skirts flipped up to reveal their naked bottoms.
Thirty or forty men milled about the room, drinks in hand, their attention immediately shifting to our entrance. Some were already stroking themselves through their pants; others had their cocks out, hard and ready. I recognized several of them from Charlie’s operation—these were the distributors, thedealers, the men who kept the poison flowing through our city’s veins.
Oscar’s hand slid between my legs, cupping me through my special panties. “Look at them,” he murmured in my ear. “All waiting for a turn with you and the other bad girls.”
I felt myself grow shamefully wet at his words, at the obscene spectacle before me. The twelve girls squirmed helplessly in their restraints as the bodyguards made final adjustments, ensuring they were perfectly positioned for use.
Jax moved to a small stage at one end of the room, where a microphone stood waiting. He beckoned me to join him, and I walked on shaky legs to his side, aware of every eye in the room following my movements.
