Grant's POV
The weeks blurred in our isolated cabin, but every day carved deeper into Noelle’s mind. I woke to her warm mouth sliding over my c**k each morning. “Good girl,” I murmured, gripping her long dark hair as she practiced.
At first she gagged, tears streaming down her face, but by week two she took me fully into her throat, her pointed nose pressed to my stomach, holding it until I praised her. “Swallow every inch, princess. That’s how my daughter serves.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she gasped after pulling off, drool coating her chin. Her petite body had grown accustomed to the routine. I fastened the thick leather collar around her neck that first week—a permanent symbol now. She wore nothing else while cooking and serving me meals, her small breasts and smooth p***y on full display.
On
