Dirty Daddies Underground

Chapter Twelve

Harper's POV

After another hour of listening to them drink and joke at my expense, I’ve had enough. I lean into Mark, pretending to smile like everything’s fine.

“I’m going to head home,” I say gently.

“What? Why would you go home now?”

I try to keep my tone light. “I need to reply on that app. It’s been hours, and if I don’t say anything, they might decide not to see me.”

He looks at me for a second, and I hold my breath, hoping he’ll just let me go.

“Then reply now. You’ve got your phone. So talk to them. But you’re staying here.”

I nod, swallowing the frustration, and pull out my phone.

The_Triumvirate: Thank you very much for completing the lists, baby girl. Do you have any questions for us?

The_Triumvirate: Now that we’ve got that, let us know when you’re ready to set a date. We can keep talking before then.

A smile creeps across my lips before I catch myself and stop. Mark’s busy, but I know he’s watching me, always watching. Still, something warm flutters in my chest, and I hold onto it for just a second.

BruisedLace: I do have a question. What do I call you? And what would you prefer me to be wearing when we meet?

I really don’t know if they want me showing up in lingerie or a full outfit, or if they expect something more revealing. I don’t want to get it wrong.

The_Triumvirate: You can call us all Daddy. As for what you’ll wear when we meet, we don’t want you naked or even just in lingerie. Something sexy, something that makes you feel confident. We won’t touch you right away. We want you to feel comfortable while we talk.

I chew my lip as I read it, and again that same soft smile tries to rise. I have to stop it. I can’t let it show.

BruisedLace: So, Daddies, I’d like to arrange a date. Is that possible?

There. I said it. I’ve asked. There’s no going back now.

And even if there is, I don’t want to take it.

The_Triumvirate: Let us know a day and we will plan where.

A date. Just like that. I glance around, chew on the inside of my cheek for a moment, then decide to go for it.

BruisedLace: How about tomorrow night?

I already know what kind of mood Mark’s going to be in tomorrow, and getting out of the apartment for the evening feels like the best choice I can make right now.

The_Triumvirate: A date has been scheduled at the Carlson Hotel, 8:30pm.

Oh god. That fast? My heart skips a little as I tap the screen and click accept.

The_Triumvirate: Okay baby girl, you accepted that quickly but didn’t ask about the money?

Money. That part still makes me feel sick, even if I’m pretending it doesn’t matter anymore.

BruisedLace: Can we leave the money discussion until tomorrow?

Because honestly, while I started this because I needed it, I’m not even sure that’s the reason I’m going through with it now. I want this. That craving is real.

The_Triumvirate: Then what do you want to speak about?

What do I say to that? My fingers hover over the keyboard before I finally start typing again.

BruisedLace: What would you say a night would be like with the Daddies and their baby girl? Just so I can understand what’s expected, or at least how it all works.

Mark’s voice pulls me out of the screen.

“How’s it going?” he asks, eyes on me.

“Good,” I answer quietly. “I think it’s happening tomorrow night.”

“Make sure you give me the location when you get it.”

I nod, but I don’t tell him I’ve already got it. Instead, I turn my attention back to the screen and see their reply waiting.

The_Triumvirate: I wish there was one easy answer for you. There isn’t. A night with us and a baby girl varies depending on who she is and what she’s comfortable with. I can tell you the baseline though, if you want.

Yes, I want that.

BruisedLace: Please do. Also, do you have more pictures?

Not just the profile kind. I want to see more of them. I want to know what they look like when they’re just existing, not posing. Something about that makes it feel more real.

The_Triumvirate has shared images with you.

I click the first one and immediately cover my mouth to muffle the gasp that slips out. There, on the screen, are three c*cks. Big, thick, veined, and almost too perfect to be real. For a second, I can’t do anything but stare.

They’re all standing together, their jeans pulled open just enough to free their c*cks, like it’s nothing. Groaning under my breath, I swipe to the next image. It’s Mason, sitting in a leather chair, his dark hair falling slightly into his face. He’s naked, leaning back, one hand wrapped around himself. The tattoos on his hand trail up to his arm, and when I look closer, I spot the metal piercing through the top of his c*ck.

My mouth waters.

I swipe again and see Nathan next. He’s in the shower, water cascading down his body, his head tilted back, blond hair falling into his eyes. His hand is wrapped around his c*ck, and he’s pierced too, but lower than Mason. My body tenses as I feel heat rising inside me, a hunger I haven’t felt in so long I barely recognize it.

One more swipe, and I nearly groan out loud. Theo. He’s gripping a metal pole above his head, arm flexed and muscles tight, his body completely bare. His c*ck is thick and heavy in his hand, and there are more piercings than I expected, each one catching the light. His blue eyes seem to lock onto mine through the screen, and it takes everything in me not to let my thoughts spiral.

“Babes,” Mark snaps from across the room, and I quickly swipe the pictures away.

“Yeah?” I reply, trying to steady my voice.

“Doesn’t matter. I needed help with the drinks, but I’ve done it now.”

I nod, not trusting myself to say anything, and return to the phone.

The_Triumvirate: How the baseline will go. You’ll arrive before us and ideally be kneeling when we come in. The moment we walk in, you’ll stand, greet each of us, and kiss us so we know you’re eager to begin.

The_Triumvirate: You’ll be wearing something sexy, short, but not lingerie. Once the greetings are done, you’ll get on your knees and let us take your mouth. You’ll want to please us, and when we’re ready, you’ll bend over and let us use our mouths on you. You’ll be begging to come, but you’ll only be allowed once at the start, and not again until the very end.

The_Triumvirate: You’ll be our good baby girl, taking each of us one at a time or all at once, begging for more, begging to be called a good girl, a dirty little w***e, anything to make us praise you as you finally get your release.

Holy hell. I read it again, slowly this time, trying to absorb every word. That’s the baseline? That’s where it starts? I don’t even want to imagine how far it could go, because part of me really, really does.

BruisedLace: Sounds... Let’s just say I’m wet right now. But I want to know, what’s above baseline? Based on my lists, I mean.

The_Triumvirate: Soon, we’ll be with you to feel just how wet you are, baby girl. As for what’s above baseline, it depends on how well you’re handling it. Restraints, rope, n****e clamps, toys. I want to see you take all of our c*cks, and I don’t mean one in each hole. You’d have two in one. Theo would want to go further, mark your body, but we won’t let him.

BruisedLace: Why not let Theo mark my body?

If it’s on my list, and I said I was open to it, why stop him?

The_Triumvirate: You’re new to this, and we don’t know yet if you can handle that level of pain. It’s late. Get some sleep, baby girl.

I want to ask more. I want to keep talking. But I know I should rest.

BruisedLace: I will, Daddies. Good night.

The_Triumvirate: Good girl. And good night.

I close the app with a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Mark is still drinking, still laughing with the others like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I want to go home. I need to buy something tomorrow, something to wear, because I don’t own anything that fits what they described.

He’s drunk, more than usual, and an hour later I’m half-carrying him into a taxi. He slumps in the seat, mumbling something I don’t catch, and when we finally get home, he crashes hard onto the bed without even undressing.

I climb in beside him, eyes wide open in the dark, my heart racing and mind tangled in everything that’s coming tomorrow night.