I thought the screen would keep me safe.
For months I fed him every soft, filthy thing he wanted. Selfies. Captions about needing an older Daddy to go feral. Posts about my virgin hole, about being a stupid little girl who needed her ass spanked red, about existing only to be filled and used. I answered every message. Called him Daddy. Never blocked him.
I left for the mountain house alone. Posted one last photo from the porch.
The second day I walked into the forest in a short dress and nothing underneath. High pigtails still in. The path narrowed. A branch snapped. Then another. Closer.
A hand clamped over my mouth so hard my teeth cut my lip. He dragged me off the trail, deeper, until the light disappeared. I kicked and clawed. He slammed me face-down into the dirt and pine needles, full weight crushing me, knee forcing my thighs apart.
When he spoke it was the same voice from every late-night message.
He yanked my wrists behind my back and lashed them tight with rough rope he must have brought for this. Thick, abrasive. It burned as he bound my elbows too, then forced my knees wide and tied them open so I couldnât close my legs. In under a minute I was a trussed, helpless shape on the forest floor, dress shoved up, completely exposed.
He leaned down until his mouth brushed my ear.
I thrashed until the ropes bit deeper. He let me. Watched until my arms trembled and tears flooded my eyes. Then he backhanded me across the faceâhard enough to stun.
âStop. Youâre only making it hotter for me.â
He freed his cock. Thick, already dripping. He dragged the head through my folds and found me wet.
âLook at that. My little virgin gets soaked for being hunted. You posted those pictures on purpose, didnât you? Deep down you wanted Daddy to find you and take whatâs his.â
I shook my head wildly. He ignored it, lined up, and drove into me in one merciless thrust.
The stretch was brutal. I was tightâstill a virginâand he didnât care. He bottomed out and stayed there, grinding deep while I sobbed and tried to crawl forward. The ropes held me perfectly still.
âFuck⊠still so tight. Perfect little breeding hole.â He started fucking me in long, punishing strokes that forced the air out of my lungs. One hand fisted in my pigtails, the other spanking my ass raw between thrusts. âYouâve been teasing Daddy for months. Begging me to come ruin you. Well. Here I am.â
Every thrust punched a broken sound out of me. He kept one hand over my mouth, using his full weight. No one was coming. The forest was empty for miles.
He talked the entire time. Filthy. Relentless.
âMy personal rape slut. Thatâs what you are. Tied up, crying, taking Daddyâs cock like you were made for it. Gonna pump this cunt so full of cum itâll be leaking down your thighs for days. No pills. No pulling out. Youâre getting bred tonight, little girl. Properly. Until it takes.â
Between the degradation came the soft, devastating praises that made me clench against my will:
âStill so pretty when you cry⊠fuck, you feel perfect wrapped around me⊠thatâs it, good girl, just take it⊠Daddyâs proud of how well youâre stretching for himâŠâ
My first orgasm was ripped out of me without mercy. He rubbed my clit in mean, precise circles while he pounded me and I came hard, sobbing, walls spasming around the cock forcing its way deeper. He didnât stop. Didnât even slow down.
By the time he finally buried himself to the root and started flooding me, I was a shaking, tear-streaked mess. Thick pulses of cum pumped into me over and over. He stayed locked inside, hand still over my mouth, hips rolling to work every drop as deep as it would go.
âThere we go,â he murmured, almost gentle. âBred. My little girl is full of Daddy now. Going to keep every drop inside that slutty cunt where it belongs. If it doesnât take tonight, Iâll just come back tomorrow. And the day after. However long it takes.â
He finally pulled out. Cum poured out of me into the dirt. He scooped some up with two fingers and shoved it back in, then wiped the rest across my lips and forced them into my mouth.
âSwallow. Thatâs an order.â
I did, gagging on the taste.
He sat back and looked at meârope marks already darkening, thighs shiny, face ruined. Then he leaned down again, voice soft and final.
âYouâre not going back to the city. I followed you all the way up here. I watched you through the window last night. Youâre done playing, Evi.â
He kissed the side of my neck, right over the bruise his teeth had left.
âDaddyâs home now.â
And he started moving inside me again.
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