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Don't touch Daddy 💦💕⛓️💥
publish date:
2026-09-02 15:35:23IVY
Crystal-clear floors. High ceilings that mock every cramped apartment in Brooklyn. I shouldn’t even be here. Three years—no, four—since I last laid my eyes on that vampire, and Christian DeLuca hasn’t aged a single second. The same sharp jaw, the same cold, unreadable, sexy eyes. Yes. His eyes are sexy and forgive me if I noticed them too early. The monster is fine. Even though he stole my mother away and left me sitting across an ocean, almost forgotten. He didn’t want me at her funeral. “Not safe.” That was his excuse. A stupid story to keep me thousands of miles away while he buried my mother alone. And now, out of nowhere, he’s dragged me back to this God-damned place because I'm apparently not safe out there either. I left my friends. Left my life. For what? To stand in a hallway while a man who has never spoken a kind word to me stares at my chest like he’s trying to decide if I’m edible? Am I permitted to talk about that... that tent in his pants? God. I saw it. I’m not blind. What kind of sick game—? My phone buzzes against my palm, shattering my thoughts. “Babe,” I call, pressing it to my ear as I drop onto the edge of the oversized guest bed. “Ivy?” Dani’s voice cuts through the quiet. “Did you arrive safely? Did you see him? Your stepfather-ish?” “Yes to all three. Unfortunately.” I exhale hard, kicking off my shoes. “Wow... that place must be heaven,” she says. I scoff. Heaven my ass. “I'm not planning on sticking around long. I just need to turn nineteen next week, get my own place, and I'm out of here, straight to college. I'm done.” “Damn. Good plan. Now back to us. When are you coming to see me?” Dani asks. “When? Bitch! I’m coming today!” I shout with a grin. Dani had been my best friend before I was waybilled to America. Now that I was here, I couldn't wait to see her. “Yes! That's my girl! I swear on my life, I'm spoiling you today!” A sharp rap at the door. “I'll call you later,” I murmur. I pull the door open, and there... the older woman from earlier—Nancy, she called herself—stands there with two of my suitcases, dragging them in from the trunk. She offers a tight, sympathetic smile. “Can I come in?” she asks. “Sure, sure.” I move away from the doorway, helping her weak limbs drag one of the suitcases. “Ivy, sweetheart. Your mom talked a lot about you. You look so much like your mother. Madam Claire... bless her soul.” My chest tightens. A hot, jagged pinch behind my ribs. My mother was the only real thing I had in this life. Her demise—I was barely healed from it, and even now, I refuse to let some stranger pry open the wound with cheap pity. “Heard it before,” I say, my voice flat, deadpan, blocking out the pathetic ache. “Christian told me. Everyone tells me. It’s not new.” She blinks, slightly taken aback, before holding out a crisp set of stapled papers. “Right. Well... here are the rules. Mr. Christian likes things—” “Rules?” I didn’t—wait. Now that I remember it, I actually heard Christian talking about rules, though I didn’t pay attention because... that shit in front of him didn’t let me. I grab the papers quickly, my eyes scanning the top line before I even process the rest. Do not leave the estate without permission. Curfew: 9:00 p.m. Phone on at all times. Never go to the top floor. No visitors. Don't this, don't that, don't, don't, don't... Bullshit. What the actual fuck? “Take this shit back,” I say, shoving the papers back into her hands as respectfully as I can. My blood is instantly boiling, hot and prickling under my skin. “Sorry, ma’am. I don't want to be disrespectful, but don't bring this garbage to me again.” “You will need it, child. Your stepfather does not—” “Old lady, you're rushing,” I snap, my patience completely snapping in half. “First of all, he is not my stepfather. He is my mother’s husband. Claire’s husband. I was brought here against my will just because my mother somehow gave me up for love... adoption. My presence here will not be controlled. Not by him, not by you, not by any living soul on this earth,” I breathe hot. “I’m not staying past next week anyway,” I murmur the last part. She stares at me, stunned into a tight-lipped smile. “I will... I will call you when dinner is ready.” I don't respond. She backs out. I don't give a damn about his rules. Dinner schedules, music restrictions, locked floors—let him keep his prison. I am eighteen, legally an adult, and I didn't cross an ocean to live under a dictator's curfew. My phone buzzes again. A text from Dani. I click it open. It's a picture. Two spots. Pick one. 7:00 p.m. A slow, defiant smile curves my mouth. Seven p.m. Perfect. Time to see the city, get away from these suffocating walls, and remind myself that I actually exist outside of Christian DeLuca’s miserable orbit.
Latest chapter
RULE NO 1: DONT TOUCH DADDY! MY father-in-law's sex toy
Chapter 10 - The Claiming He thrust into me without warning, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal, powerful motion. I screamed, my back arching violently off the bed, my bound hands clenching into tight, white-knuckled fists. “AAAAH! Ohhh... fuck, yes!” He was massive… thicker than the dildo, longer than anything I’d ever taken, and the stretch was exquisite agony. My inner walls struggled to accommodate him, clenching and spasming around his invasion, trying to push him out even as they desperately sucked him deeper. Every micro-movement of his flesh against mine tore a ragged moan from my throat. “Mmmph... ah! God, you're so big... ahh!” "Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back, his eyes rolling with pleasure. "You're perfect. Look at how tight you wrap around my cock.” He pulled out slowly, letting me feel every ridge and vein of his shaft as it dragged against my sensitive flesh, then slammed back in with brutal force. “AH! Ohhh, fuck, yes! Right there!” The guttur
RULE NO 1: DONT TOUCH DADDY! MY father-in-law's sex toy
Chapter 9 - The Domination He undressed slowly, each piece of clothing dropping with heavy deliberation, before he selected a flogger from the tray. He tested its weight in his hand, giving it a practice swing that made the air whistle sharply through the quiet room. “Lay back,” he commanded, his tone smooth, unyielding, and absolute. I obeyed, my body moving before my mind could catch up, sinking against the cool sheets as my skin prickled with goosebumps. “Hands above your head.” I raised my arms, and he bound my left wrist first, pulling it taut against the bedpost. Then my right wrist stretched out, leaving me spread-eagled and vulnerable beneath him under his heavy gaze. He moved to my ankles, binding them to the posts at the foot of the bed. I was completely immobilized, my body stretched out like an offering to be devoured, every inch exposed to the room's cool air. He picked up the blindfold from the bedside table… the same one I’d worn earlier. He folded it ca
RULE NO 1: DONT TOUCH DADDY! MY father-in-law's sex toy
Chapter 8 - The Sex House The room swallowed me whole. The world rushed back in a flood of sensory overload. Whips and paddles hung from the walls in neat, deliberate arrangement. My eyes swept across the room, cataloging everything with a mixture of horror and morbid fascination. A spanking bench sat in the center, its padded surface worn from use. The walls were lined with shelves, each one holding an arsenal of implements I could barely comprehend. Glass dildos in varying sizes, their surfaces ridged and beaded. A collection of anal plugs, from modest to monstrous. A spreader bar with cuffs. A leather paddle with holes drilled through it, designed to leave marks. A cane, thin and vicious. And then there was the bed. It was massive, draped in black silk, with ropes attached to each of its four posts. The ropes were neatly coiled, waiting to be unfurled, waiting to bind someone to the mattress below. A tray on the bedside table held an assortment of items… lubricants, c
RULE NO 1: DONT TOUCH DADDY! MY father-in-law's sex toy
Chapter 7 - The Package The afternoon stretched endlessly. I paced my room, my bare feet wearing a path into the plush carpet. My mind raced with possibilities… What would he do to me? How would I react? What was in that package he promised Elena would deliver? A knock at the door shattered my spiraling thoughts. "Come in," I called, my voice steadier than I felt. Elena entered, carrying a neatly wrapped box in pale pink paper, tied with a satin ribbon. "Mr. Ashford asked me to deliver this to you, ma'am," she said, setting the box on the bed. "He also asked me to inform you that he'll be expecting you at eight o'clock this evening." I nodded, my throat tight. "Thank you, Elena." She hesitated for a moment, as if she wanted to say something more. But then she simply inclined her head and slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. I stared at the box. I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling as I reached for the ribbon. I pulled it loose and the pa
RULE NO 1: DONT TOUCH DADDY! MY father-in-law's sex toy
Chapter 6 - Mission To Seduce Morning light crept through the curtains, pale and golden, painting the room in soft hues. I stirred beneath the silk sheets, my body stiff from a night of restless, shallow sleep. The memory of last night clung to me. I had pushed him to the edge and then feigned collapse, leaving him frustrated and aching. It worked. But it wasn't enough. I sat up slowly, running my fingers through my tangled hair. My palm throbbed where the glass had cut me. I looked at my reflection in the mirror across the room and saw a stranger staring back… a woman with haunted eyes and a mask of determination. “You can do this,” I muttered. A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Come in," I called, my voice steadier than I felt. Elena entered, her expression warm and professional as always. She carried a tray with a delicate cup of tea, steam curling into the air. "Good morning, ma'am. I hope you slept well." "I did, thank you," I said, forcing a
RULE NO 1: DONT TOUCH DADDY! MY father-in-law's sex toy
Chapter 5 - The Plan I spent the next few days in a fog of fear and desperation. Alistair was everywhere. At breakfast, watching me over his coffee with those cold, calculating eyes. In the hallways. At dinner. If I kept refusing him, he would eventually drop the gentleman act and force the issue. I couldn't let that happen. So I came up with a plan. It was reckless. Dangerous. The kind of move that could backfire spectacularly. But I was running out of options, and my body was the only card I had left to play. If I was going to survive, I needed to make him believe I was willing. I needed him to think I had come around on my own. And then, when he least expected it, I'd find a way to escape or get my hands on something I could use to gain leverage over him. It was nearly midnight when I made my move. I opened my wardrobe and pulled out a nearly transparent black lace nightgown. The fabric was so thin I could see my skin right through it, my nipples dark against the de
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