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Daddy Institute (Dark Age Play Romance) (My Little World Book 7)

Page 3

by Becca Little


  “That is standard procedure for embezzlement. The company wants to recover as much money as possible. You were stealing from them…or at least that is the allegation.” He sighed. “This isn’t going to be an easy case.”

  “Because I’m guilty?” I looked down at the table.

  “Your guilt or innocence doesn’t matter to me. I work for you. My job is to defend you.” He slid a form over to me. “Or in this case, advise you to take the best deal.”

  “The best deal?” I stared at the paper. “They’re offering a deal? I just got here…”

  “Bradford International was just involved in a major hacking scandal in Japan. They last thing they want is a messy trial with everyone finding out their system was compromised in the states as well. Sloane Bradford has a lot of pull with the courts here thanks to all of the donations they make, and he would love it if you agreed to a deal and this didn’t make headlines.” My lawyer tapped the paper with his finger.

  “Does this deal involve me avoiding prison?” I picked the paper up and started to read it.

  “Something like that. They would like to keep this in-house. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Bradford Institute?” He folded his hands in front of him.

  “Oh, you mean the Daddy Institute?” I looked up at him.

  “Yeah, that is what some people call it. I assume since you’ve heard of it, you understand how it works?” His eyes met mine. “It is a damn good alternative to prison. They’re offering to drop the charges if you agree to spend a year there.”

  “What is the alternative.” My eyes scanned the paperwork, struggling to understand several of the complicated legal terms.

  “If you go in front of a judge, there’s a good chance you’ll get five years.” He sighed and shook his head. “They’ll push for the maximum sentence. They believe they can prove you compromised their system and stole money from them. They would have a damn good case if they can prove it.”

  “What you’re telling me is I can agree to spend a year in the Daddy Institute or I can gamble with a trial and I could end up spending five years in prison if it doesn’t go my way?” I drew a breath and felt tears building up in my eyes.

  “I recommend you take their deal.” He nodded to emphasize his point. “I know it is scary, but I’ve had a few clients that have chosen it. Honestly, it is a lot nicer than prison.”

  The Bradford Institute was some sort of charity connected to Bradford International, but it wasn’t part of the company. Most people referred to it as the Daddy Institute because of their philosophy. I had heard people in the office talking about it, but it was mostly in hushed whispers. The Bradford Institute paired young female offenders with a man who served as their Daddy. They were disciplined and punished as he saw fit for the duration of their sentence, based on the nature of the crime. Supposedly there were a lot of parameters put on it to make sure it was all safe, but the punishment was no joke. As much as the idea of being punished scared me, one year at the Bradford Institute did seem like a lot better option than spending five years in prison.

  “Okay…” I nodded. “I’ll take the deal.”

  Chapter 6 — Sloane

  The only emotion I really felt was rage as I looked at the security report. When I asked for a security audit, I expected to find out that everything was fine. I expected a routine confirmation of my iron clad system, a glowing review of our security, and a rubber stamp of excellence. The discovery of a real threat had left me feeling uneasy about everything and beyond angry. I picked up the employee file for Bianca Adams and flipped through it. There was a glowing recommendation for her recent promotion from Gary, outlining all the reasons he thought she should be selected. He had even put together a development plan for her to be a manager in the company. I slammed the file shut and stared at him as he sat nervously across from me.

  “I’m sorry…” He stammered as he stared at the floor. “I had no idea…”

  “This looks especially bad considering you were the one who promoted her and you’re responsible for security. Do you not monitor the new employees? Anyone could have done this!” My voice raised and I felt my rage intensifying.

  “I know.” He shook his head up and down. “This is my fuck up. I had no idea this was even possible. I thought this kind of shit only happened in the movies! Obviously, we need some new protocols. We need to restrict access for all new employees and make sure they can only access areas of the network required for them to do their job.”

  “Those are excellent suggestions.” I pursed my lips and nodded. “I’m sure your replacement will get all of them implemented immediately.”

  “My…” Gary stammered over his words again. “My replacement?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I’ve decided that you need to head up our Indonesian expansion. Of course, that requires a lot of hands on involvement, and you’ll need to relocate there by the end of the week.”

  “This was one mistake…” His face turned to a look of concern and confusion. “I have served this company for twenty years. I’ve given up everything to make sure it was successful.”

  “Apparently, you didn’t give enough.” I shook my head with an emotionless stare. “My decision is made. If you don’t want to move to Indonesia, you can resign.”

  I knew Gary wouldn’t resign. I could have sent him to Siberia to work in a Russian prison and he would have done it when he got over his emotional response. His loyalty to the company meant more to him than anything. Even if he tried to downplay it, he knew his failure had fucked over the company. He would do his time in Indonesia, make the launch a success, and when everything had blown over, I would bring him back and give him a spot on the Board of Directors. We needed to expand anyway, so it was an excellent opportunity to promote someone that deserved it, and bring him back later. After Gary was gone, my attention turned back to the girl who had ripped us off. I understood why Gary had promoted her. She had an impressive resume, and she was very pretty—it was a shame she had chosen to throw everything away to try and make a quick buck at the expense of the company. I picked up the phone and hit a button to alert my secretary.

  “Call the firm and get one of our lawyers on the line. I don’t want a fucking paralegal either.” I drummed my fingers as I waited for her to make the call.

  Even though the program Bianca Adams had put on our system was a security breach, it was an internal breach. No customer data had been put in jeopardy, so I wasn’t obligated to disclose anything. The main thing I needed to do was kill the story. The Bradford Institute specialized in rehabilitating young women like her, and I hoped I could put the right deal on the table to entice her. The lawyers explained she would be looking at five years in prison if a judge handled her case, so I told them to offer her one year at the Bradford Institute as an alternative. The lawyers were optimistic about the deal and said it was a damn good one. They were open to presenting it to her court appointed attorney as an alternative to prison. The judge would sign off on anything we recommended.

  “There’s one more thing…” I leaned towards my desk and pressed the phone closer to my ear. “If she accepts this deal and decides she wants to go to the Bradford Institute instead of prison, I will serve as her Daddy.”

  I hadn’t visited the Bradford Institute in years. I trusted my cousin Charles to keep it going, and he had done a very good job. I knew that it was often referred to as the Daddy Institute because of the theme, but regardless of the branding, it did serve a good purpose. In some of my previous discussions with Charles, he had mentioned that they sometimes had issues with people signing up to serve as a young woman’s Daddy, only because they wanted to be associated with the Institute. Some of them never even visited, which mean the young women they were supposed to rehabilitate never actually paid for their crimes. I wasn’t going to let Bianca Adams get off that easy. I was going to personally see to it that she paid dearly for what she had done.

  Chapter 7 — Bianca

  There was no return to re
gular society or even a brief intermission from jail to get my affairs in order. The day after I signed the paperwork, I was taken from my cell and put in the back of a van. The driver didn’t even look at me after I was shackled to the floorboard and placed in a seatbelt. When we left the city, and started heading down the interstate, I felt a lot of fear building up in my stomach. I didn’t know if I was really cut out for the Daddy Institute. My parents didn’t believe in any sort of corporal punishment. The high school I attended had done away with the Principal’s paddle long before I arrived. I tried to keep my mind focused on the positive. It was one year of my life instead of five. I would walk out of the Daddy Institute without a record, and there was a chance I could find another job. My life would have been completely ruined with a felony and five years in prison.

  The scenery faded from stretches of interstate with a clear view of the city to long stretches with nothing more than a few road signs. The trip started in the early morning and it was almost dark when I finally saw the place I would spend a year of my life. From the outside, it looked like a prison. There was a large brick wall around it, guard towers every few feet, and razor sharp barbed wire adorning the top. Large metal gates opened to allow the van to enter, and inside I saw multiple areas sectioned off with chain link fences. The van drove around to a large rusted door, and once it was parked, the door opened and two men in brown guard uniforms stepped out, followed by a man in a suit. The guards opened the door, unshackled me from the floorboard, and helped me out. The van door slammed behind me and the driver drove off, leaving me standing on the paved road leading to the entrance.

  “Welcome to the Bradford Institute.” The suited man stepped forward and looked me over from head to toe. “I’m Charles Bradford and I’m the warden here. Are you ready to begin your rehabilitation?”

  “Yes sir.” I nodded, even though my stomach was doing flips so hard I thought I would throw up.

  The second I was inside the door and it slammed behind me, I was surprised to see how cold and dark it looked. It hardly looked like a place for rehabilitation. One of the guards ushered me down a long hallway, and pushed me into a small room. He stepped inside and turned on the lights, revealing a narrow hall with a rolled hose on the wall that resembled a fireman’s hose. He walked to the wall and started unrolling it, taking the nozzle in his hand. As I stared at it and started to process the information, I realized he intended to use it on me. I watched his powerful arms drag the hose over to the middle of the room and point it in my direction.

  “Remove your clothes.” He said without any emotion in his voice.

  “But…” I muttered. “Isn’t there a woman that can do this?”

  “You no longer deserve your dignity.” His voice intensified. “The guards in the Bradford Institute will watch you eat, sleep, piss, shit and shower. Get used to it.”

  I nervously reached for the zipper on my orange jumpsuit. The guard in front of me was going to be the first man to see me naked that wasn’t a doctor or a relative. I envisioned the first time I removed my clothes for a man to be under much different circumstance. I pulled the top of the jumpsuit down and slid it down my legs. The thin slippers I had been given were hardly shoes and they rolled off my feet when I scraped them on the floor. Once I was down to my tank top and my panties, I looked up at him. His eyes were on me, and clenched together in an angry scowl. He didn’t seem to care one way or the other about my state of undress. I pulled the shirt off to reveal my breasts and then pushed the panties down. Before I could look up, I heard the gush of water and then a strong burst slammed into my abdomen.

  “Ow! What the fuck…” I yelled as the water pushed me back into the wall.

  “Dance for me, you stupid little slut.” His emotionless tone was riddled with laughter. “Bend over so I can wash your dirty ass and filthy cunt.”

  After the initial shock of being struck by the water wore off, I began to realize how freaking cold it was. It was like ice. Every time I tried to move, the hose followed me and covered me with water. It wasn’t strong enough to hurt me, once I was ready for it and I could keep my footing. I did as he asked, sputtering water as I turned around in a circle. I finally took my position and bent over with my hands on my knees. The jet of water sprayed directly on my asshole and then moved down to my pussy. I could only take it for a second before I had to jump up and turn around. He sprayed me directly in the face for several seconds, to the point I was afraid he was going to drown me. After I gasped for breath and turned away from the spray, he turned the water off and let the hose fall to the ground.

  “Okay, time for a cavity search.” He smiled. “We do let the women handle those.”

  The door opposite the one I entered opened and a female guard entered. She was almost as large as the man, with wide shoulders and remnants of a bleached mustache on her lip. She grabbed me by the arm without saying a word and walked me down a hallway. I was taken into a room with nothing more than a desk. She pointed to the desk and I put my palms on it, scared to death by what I had endured so far. The water still clung to me and it was freezing cold in the room. I felt goosebumps across my whole body and my teeth started to chatter. She slid a rubber glove on and walked beside me, shoving a whole finger into my anus without warning.

  “Am I going to find any contraband?” Her voice was a low growl.

  “No ma’am” I shook my head and grimaced as she probed.

  I hoped it was a different finger I felt in my pussy than the one that was shoved into my anus—not that I felt like there was anything left after being violated by a blast of water. She was a little gentler with it, only shoving a finger in slightly and moving it around. The fact I was a virgin and still had most of my hymen probably convinced her I didn’t have anything nefarious inside of me. After that was done, she stripped off the glove and dropped it into a trash can. I was led down another hallway to a door. There was a small window on the door, but it was dark inside. She shoved a key into the lock, turned it and stepped back. I looked over at her and she motioned to the door.

  “This is your room. You’ll find clothes and everything you need inside. The light switch is on the left. Welcome to the Bradford Institute.” She pointed at the room.

  I entered the room and reached for the light switch. As soon as it came on, I heard the door slam behind me and the key turned in the lock. I looked around the room in shock. It wasn’t a prison cell. It was like a small apartment, but heavily condensed. There was a small kitchen to the left with a small table and a couple of chairs. To the right, was a bathroom with no door. Directly in front of me was a tiny sitting area with a couch, a chair, a coffee table, and a television. Behind it, on an elevated platform was a bed. I looked back at the door and back at the room. It was like I had stepped into an alternate dimension compared to the dingy prison on the other side of the door.

  Chapter 8 — Sloane

  My helicopter landed at the small airport near the Bradford Institute and I walked to a waiting car. I wasn’t surprised Bianca had accepted the deal. It was extremely generous considering her crime, but keeping the story away from reporters was a lot more important to me than having her serve time. It had taken a few donations to various charities to get the District Attorney and the judge to agree to it, but once they realized how serious I was about it, they caved. I was required to report the crime, but once it was in their hands, I was free to make suggestions since my company was the victim of her insolence. The main thing that mattered to me was keeping it out of the press and not having to report it to our shareholders. When I got closer to the car, I recognized my cousin standing beside it.

  “Sloane!” His face stretched to a smile as he extended his hand.

  “Good to see you again, Charles.” I shook his hand and he opened the door so I could enter the vehicle.

  Charles was the youngest son of my father’s brother. He was always kind of a free spirit, never caring much about the family business. He could have had a spot at Bradford Internati
onal if he wanted it and possibly even headed up one of our foreign operations, but he opted for an easier life running the charity responsible for the Bradford Institute. After failing to convince me to turn the charity into a business where he could make real money, he had tried going through our attorneys and talking with other members of the board, hoping they would care more about money than charity. I knew I would get another pitch since he had chosen to meet me at the airport.

  “So, this girl…” Charles sat down beside me. “She stole from Bradford International?”

  “She’s got more bravery than common sense, or maybe it’s just youthful stupidity. Either way, I couldn’t let her go unpunished, but I didn’t need another scandal.” I sighed and stared out the window as the driver cranked up the car.

  “I think you made a good choice.” Charles smiled. “We do good work at the Institute. You really need to reconsider bringing it into the company. We could make so much money.”

  “If you want to make real money, you should come work for me. I could set you up with a job making way more than you make running a charity.” I looked over at him.

  “I’ll admit that I care about the money, but I want to make my mark on the world. I want the Bradford Institute to be my legacy. Have you seen the charts I sent Gary?” He met my eyes and his enthusiasm was practically glowing behind his green colored orbs.

  “I have seen the charts and I believe you. Turning it into a business carries a lot of risk. What happens if something goes wrong? Right now, we have a buffer between Bradford International and the Institute. The Institute represents something very controversial and while I believe in it, the public may not see the same way.” I tried to dissuade him with common sense, but it had been unsuccessful in the past, so I didn’t have much hope of it changing his opinion.

 

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