The session finally wrapped up well after midnight. The girl was a wrecked, c*m-covered mess by the end of the second round — throat f****d, p***y destroyed, and ass left gaping with her stepfather’s thick load dripping out of her. I had stood there the entire time, holding that damn light wand with trembling hands, my own body a dripping, denied disaster. My thighs were slick all the way down to my knees. My c**t felt like it had its own heartbeat.
Daddy looked at the clock on the wall and made his decision.
“We’ll finish the final breeding scene tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. sharp,” he announced, voice still carrying that commanding director tone. “Max, take your daughter upstairs to the guest suite. Get some rest. Dove — you’re dismissed for the night.”
I barely managed a weak “Yes, Dad
