Chapter 4
"There you go," I finally say as I look at my stepdaughter, her wide brown eyes looking to me for guidance, for what’s next for safety. "There you go, inmate. You took it."
She's quivering but trying to smile, and there’s a lusty look in her eyes. Her cuffed hands are white-knuckled, but her body is leaking out around the invasion of my hand.
"You like this." I smile again, starting to slowly pump my hand in and out a fraction of an inch, up and back, up and back, pointing my fingers and remembering the reason for her ‘exam’.
"Officer—" She sputters as my middle finger contacts her cervix, then I retreat, then ease in-ward again to touch that deepest part of her young body, and my breath is trapped mid-inhale.
"I need to inspect you according to protocol.” I push up on my knees, my heart beating wild, holding my hand inside her and leaning forward, my face inches from hers, the scent of her arousal on my breath mixing between us. "You like Daddy’s hand inside you?"
A tear slips down her cheek as I slip back into Daddy mode. "I like it."
"How much?"
"So much—so much, officer, I want you to move it. I’m—" She makes a choked sound as I push deeper, letting my index and fuck finger get a good connection with the opening to her womb, and I’m no fucking doctor, but I’m not uninformed either.
Her cervix is soft. Softer than I am sure is normal.
My instincts are spot on. I’m damn fucking sure I’ve knocked up my daughter. Feeding her pussy my seed for the past few weeks has paid off, and I want to announce to the world I’ve planted my seed in her body.
“Good girl.” I praise with more of my Daddy voice leaking through.
I curl my fingers inside her, watching her face as the shape of my hand changes, knuckles rotat-ing against her inner walls. Her eyes roll back when I press deeper, searching again, needing to confirm what I now know.
Sensitive tits. Deep blue veins. Soft little cervix. She’s carrying my baby.
Sammi makes a sound I've never heard from her. A wounded, animal noise. Her whole-body clenches.
"Oh, fuck," she breathes.
I press my fingers into her cervix. Just a little pressure. Just enough to make her understand that there's nowhere in her body I can't reach.
"You know what that is, baby?" She’s no longer the inmate; I can’t hold that fantasy with her now. Not when I'm this deep inside her. Not when I can feel the evidence of our love.
She knows. I see it in her eyes. The way they focus, then go wide, then fill with something that's half terror and half worship.
"Daddy—"
"Shh." I press my forehead to hers. My hand is still buried to the wrist inside her cunt, rubbing that inner opening that someday will yield to deliver my child. "You're okay. You're my good girl. My pregnant good girl."
A sob catches in her throat as she squeezes her eyes shut for a second, then blows out a long breath.
"You knew, didn’t you? The way your tits have been sore. The way you've been crying at every-thing."
She shakes her head, but it's a lie. We both know it. “I’m going to have your baby.”
I rotate my fist inside her, just a fraction of an inch, and she whimpers. Her inner walls grip me so tight I can feel my pulse echoing back at me.
"That's my baby in there." The words scrape from my throat. I’m Daddy right now. The man who's been fucking his stepdaughter and unloading his balls raw into her little babymaker, who held her down more times than I can count, telling her it’s breeding time. And now she’s bred.
"That's mine. You understand? What we made.
What's growing in this perfect little body I've got my hand inside right now. "
"Please—"
"Please what?"
"Please don't stop. Please don't—I need—"
"You need what, babygirl?"
Tears are streaming down her cheeks. Her cuffed hands are gripping the chain above her head and pulling like she might be able to get away.
"I need you," she chokes out. "Always you. Only you, Daddy—"
"I'm here. baby. Daddy’s here." I press a kiss to her warm cheek. "And I'm never leaving. You got that? You, me, and this baby. We're a family. My family."
I give her cervix another gentle push with my middle finger.
"That's it," I breathe. "Now I want to feel you come around my hand. Let me feel you squeeze Daddy’s fist."
I withdraw an inch. Push back in.
I curl my fingers into my palm and fill her with the thick girth of a clenched fist.
I drag the ball of my hand against her inner walls. Her mouth falls open. No sound comes out.
"Breathe, inmate." The fantasy surges back.
She gasps. I pull back again, to the base of my hand, and drive forward.
The image of me punching my fist inside her nearly makes me nut in my fucking pants. The first true thrust of my fist inside her cunt.
"Fuck—Daddy!"
I don't correct her for cursing. Or calling me Daddy.
Seems appropriate given the moment, and I'm too focused on the rhythm I'm building, the wet sound of my hand moving in and out of her body, the way her hips have started meeting me halfway.
"That's it," I growl. "Take it. I love how you do whatever I tell you."
I pump her. Harder. Faster.
My forearm is slick with her, glistening in the light. Her thighs are shaking, her cuffed arms straining, her head thrown back.
"I'm— Officer, I'm going to—"
I don’t care what she calls me anymore. "You're going to come on my fist," I finish for her. "And you're going to do it now."
I curl my knuckles against that spongy spot inside her, the one I know from weeks of mapping her body.
I push, rub, and twist, and do it again.
Once. Twice. Three times.
She flings her body back and forth, but she’s impaled on my fucking arm so she’s going no-where.
Her orgasm rips through her like a bullet train. Her whole-body arches, then the spasms take over, and a cry echoes like a dying animal as her inner walls clamp down on my fist in pulsing, rhythmic spasms.
Wetness glistens in the air, falling around my arm and I lean in and catch some of her squirt on my tongue and swallow it down.
I hold still inside her, letting her ride it out on my hand, watching her face contort with the force of it. She gushes on my wrist, my arm, my elbow.
I crush my lips to hers, pushing my tongue into her scream and swallowing down the moment into my very marrow.
My girl. My daughter. My fucking soul.
When she finally goes limp, I withdraw slowly. Allowing her to catch her breath. My fist emerg-es with a sloppy pop, her body reluctant to let go.
I look at my hand. It’s been where no man has been before.
And no other man ever will go.
"That was your cavity search, inmate. You did well. Now you have to make sure you thank me for giving you special treatment. Turn over..."