DONT CALL ME DADDY!!!

The funeral had ended hours ago, but the silence in the big house still felt heavy.

I stood in the middle of the living room, wearing the same black dress I’d worn to bury my mother. It was too tight now or maybe I’d just lost too much weight in the last two weeks. At nineteen, I had nowhere else to go. No grandparents. No aunts or uncles who wanted responsibility. Just him.

Alexander Voss. My stepfather.

He sat on the leather couch across from me, one leg crossed over the other, looking every bit the powerful man he was. Forty-two years old, broad shoulders filling out his tailored black shirt, dark hair with the slightest silver at the temples, and those piercing gray eyes that always seemed to see too much. He’d built a tech empire from nothing. Now he was worth more money than I could even imagine.

“You don’t have to decide tonight, Ava,” he said, voice low and calm. “But the offer stands.”

I swallowed hard. “You’re really okay with me staying here? After… everything?”

A small smile touched his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “This is your home now. I promised your mother I’d take care of you.”

Take care of me.

The words should have felt comforting. Instead, they sent a strange shiver down my spine.

I’d always called him Daddy out of respect — even after Mom married him when I was fourteen. He never corrected me. Never told me to stop. And lately… lately the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention had started to feel different.

He stood up slowly, towering over my 5’4” frame. “It’s late. Go upstairs and get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

I nodded and turned to leave, but his voice stopped me at the doorway.

“Ava.”

I glanced back.

His eyes dragged slowly down my body, lingering on the way the black dress hugged my curves, before returning to my face. “If you need anything — anything at all — my door is always open.”

The way he said it made heat bloom low in my belly. I hated how my thighs pressed together instinctively.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, the old habit slipping out before I could stop it.

Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Good girl.”

I fled upstairs before he could see how red my cheeks had become.

My old bedroom looked exactly the same as when I’d left for college — soft pink walls, fairy lights, the big canopy bed. But everything felt different now. Smaller. Like I didn’t belong in the innocent version of myself anymore.

I stripped out of the dress and stood in front of the full-length mirror in just my black lace bra and panties. My breasts were full and heavy, waist tiny, hips flaring out in a way that made boys at college stare. But tonight I felt exposed. Vulnerable.

I needed to relax.

From the bottom drawer of my nightstand, I pulled out the small pink vibrator I’d bought online last semester — my dirty little secret. No one knew. Not even my best friend.

I lay back on the bed, spread my legs, and turned it on low. The buzz against my clit made me bite my lip to stay quiet. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander… to strong hands. To a deep voice calling me babygirl. To the way Alexander — Daddy — had looked at me downstairs.

My breathing grew faster. The vibrator pressed harder.

I didn’t hear the door open.

I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until a large shadow fell over me.

My eyes flew open.

Alexander stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, watching me with an intensity that made my stomach drop.

The vibrator was still buzzing loudly between my slick folds.

For a long second, neither of us moved.

Then he spoke, voice rough and dangerously calm.

“Turn it off, Ava.”

My hand trembled as I obeyed, the sudden silence deafening.

He stepped closer, eyes raking over my nearly naked body — the way my nipples poked against the lace, the wet spot darkening my panties, my flushed cheeks.

“I thought I told you to rest,” he murmured.

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered, trying to close my legs.

“Don’t.” The single word was soft, but it carried the weight of an order.

I froze.

He sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that I could smell his expensive cologne mixed with something darker — pure male hunger.

“You’ve been walking around this house for weeks in tiny shorts and tight tops,” he said quietly. “Teasing me. Testing me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how wet you get when I call you babygirl?”

My breath hitched.

He reached out and gently took the pink vibrator from my limp fingers, turning it over in his big hand.

“This cheap little toy isn’t enough for you anymore, is it?” His thumb brushed the wet tip. “You need something real. Something that can actually fill you up and make you scream.”

Heat flooded my face. “Daddy… this is wrong—”

“Is it?” He leaned in, his free hand sliding up my thigh, stopping just short of where I was aching. “Your mother’s gone. You’re all alone. And I’ve wanted to bend you over and fuck you senseless since the day you turned eighteen.”

His fingers finally brushed over my soaked panties. I whimpered.

“Look at you,” he growled, voice dropping even lower. “Already dripping for Daddy.”

He pressed two thick fingers against my clit through the fabric, rubbing slow circles.

“I’ll take care of you, babygirl. I’ll give you everything you need — a home, money, safety… and this tight little pussy will belong to me. Every hole. Every orgasm. Every moan.”

He slipped his fingers under the lace and pushed one thick digit inside me.

I gasped, back arching.

“From tonight,” he said, pumping slowly, eyes locked on mine, “you’re not my stepdaughter anymore. You’re Daddy’s personal sex toy. You obey when I say. You spread when I want. You come only when I allow it.”

Another finger joined the first, stretching me.

“Say it, Ava.”

I was shaking, pleasure building fast under his skilled touch.

“I… I’m Daddy’s sex toy,” I moaned, voice breaking.

He smiled — dark, satisfied, possessive.

“Good girl.”

He pulled his fingers out, brought them to his mouth, and licked them clean while I watched, stunned and unbearably turned on.

Then he stood up, towering over me again.

“Tomorrow we’ll go shopping. Collars. Toys. Lingerie that actually suits my little toy.” His eyes gleamed. “But tonight…”

He unbuckled his belt slowly.

“Tonight, Daddy’s going to show you what a real man feels like.”

I stared up at him, heart pounding, pussy throbbing.

And for the first time since my mother died…

I didn’t feel lost.

I felt owned.