"I'm your Mistress, Emma," Ivy said more sternly.
"I, I'm sorry, Ivy. I'm just--"
"Jealous, I know. But I don't need your permission to f**k your daddy. You need my permission to f**k him, and if you don't want to ask it, then you're not going to get it."
Emma was silent. So was Ivy for a moment.
"Now, go get my lube and my vibrator out of my bag. I'm going to need it for that big c**k of his."
"Yes, Miss Ivy."
I heard my daughter get up and leave the room. I opened my eyes.
"That's your plan? To demean my daughter?"
Ivy smiled at me. "I'm making her want it. You'll see. She'll get so jealous that she'll come whining to you, like she always has. Now shush, you're asleep... Master."
I smirked at her. "This better work."
"It will. Please close your eyes, Sir."
I closed them. Emma
