DADDY'S LITTLE SLUT

CHAPTER 11

Marcus stayed buried inside me for a long time, chest pressed to my back, breath hot against my neck. His c**k twitched every few seconds as the last of his c*m leaked deeper into me. My cunt was on fire—belt welts throbbing, c**t swollen and oversensitive, walls still fluttering around him from how hard I’d come.

He finally pulled out. I felt the thick rush of his load spill down my thighs and onto his sheets. He sat back on his heels and looked at the mess he’d made of me: ass up, legs shaking, p***y red and striped and dripping white.

“Stay like that,” he ordered.

I did. Face down, ass up, everything on display. I heard the soft sound of him opening a drawer. A moment later something cold and smooth pressed against my used hole. He pushed a thick plug into me slowly, stretching me open again until it seated deep and the flared base rested against my sore lips. It locked his c*m inside.

“There,” he muttered. “Now you’ll feel me every time you move.”

I whimpered. The plug was big—almost as thick as him—and every tiny shift made it press against the bruised, sensitive places he’d just abused.

He rolled me onto my back. My legs fell open weakly. He stared down at my welted cunt, at the way the plug stretched me, at the fresh c*m still leaking around the edges.

“You’re going to sleep in here tonight,” he said. “In my bed. With my c*m plugged in your slutty little hole. If Lily gets up for water and notices you’re not in the guest room… you’ll tell her you had a nightmare and came looking for company. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

The word made his c**k twitch again, already half-hard. He climbed over me, braced himself on one arm, and rubbed the head of his d**k up and down my abused slit, smearing the mess around.

“You called me that earlier,” he said, voice low. “When I was spanking this cunt. You like it, don’t you? Calling your best friend’s father Daddy while he beats and f***s your pussy.”

I nodded, cheeks burning. “I love it. I’ve wanted to say it for years.”

He pushed just the head inside me again, right next to the plug, stretching me obscenely around both. I gasped at the burn.

“Then say it while I use you one more time.”

He f****d me slow and deep like that—his c**k and the plug both filling me, the dual stretch making my eyes roll back. Every thrust dragged across the belt welts and made the plug shift inside me. It was too much and not enough at the same time. I clung to his shoulders and moaned into his neck.

“Harder, Daddy—please—use your little slut—”

He gave me harder. The wet, filthy sounds of him f*****g me around the plug filled the dark room. My t**s bounced with every thrust. He sucked one n****e into his mouth and bit down just hard enough to make me cry out.

“Quiet,” he warned, but he didn’t stop biting, didn’t stop pounding. “She’s right down the hall.”

I bit his shoulder instead, muffling my moans while he used me. The pressure built fast—too much sensation, too much stretch, the constant reminder that I was full of him and owned by him. When I came it was silent and violent, body locking up, cunt squeezing so tight around c**k and plug that he groaned like it hurt.

He followed a few strokes later, flooding me again, the new load forced to stay inside by the plug. When he pulled out, nothing leaked. Everything stayed locked deep where he wanted it.

Marcus collapsed beside me, one heavy arm draped over my waist, hand resting possessively over the base of the plug between my legs. I was trembling, sore, marked, and so thoroughly claimed I could barely remember my own name.

He kissed the side of my neck, soft for the first time all night.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “Tomorrow you’re going to that club with my c*m still inside you… and when you get home I’m going to check to make sure it’s still there.”

I closed my eyes, the thick plug a constant, filthy reminder, and drifted off in my best friend’s father’s bed with his arm around me and his load locked deep in my cunt.

Outside the door the house stayed quiet.

For now.