All Chapters of Daddy's secret Obsession: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

JessyThe silence that followed was heavy, thick with spent desire and the smell of sex and sweat. He didn't withdraw right away. He kept me pinned to the glass, his weight a comforting, possessive anchor."Look," he commanded, his voice now lower, rough, but laced with a new kind of satisfaction.I slowly lifted my head, my neck stiff, my eyes blurred. Mark gripped my chin, forcing my focus past my reflection to the glittering metropolis below."That," he said, indicating the endless expanse of concrete and light, "is the city I own. And you," he tilted my head until our eyes locked in the reflection, a man and a woman, tangled and desperate, "you are the one thing in it I need to conquer every day. I give you the air to breathe, Jessy. Never forget that."He finally pulled out, the sudden, empty feeling a stark counterpoint to the recent fullness. I nearly collapsed, but his arms were instantly there, steadying me. He turned me, wrapping his leather jacket around my shoulders—a ges

Jessy He didn’t ask. He never asks anymore. The time for polite requests and hesitant boundaries had been incinerated weeks ago, replaced by a ruthless, absolute obedience that originated in his mind but resonated deep in the most shameful, desperate core of mine. Now, everything was a command, a precise directive, a test of my compliance. He simply walked into the bedroom at 11:47 p.m. The room was already prepared: dim, lit only by the soft, indirect glow of the city filtering through the panoramic windows. The air conditioning was set low, ensuring my skin would be a contrasting warmth against the cool sheets. He carried the tools of his trade—not a whip or a cuff, but technology. His primary phone was already mounted on a tripod on the heavy dresser, the red record light glowing like a devil’s eye, steady and accusatory. This wasn't about memory; it was about documentation. It was about forcing me to acknowledge my own ruin. “Strip,” he said, voice quiet, lethal. “Slow.”

Jessy It was Friday, 6:00 p.m sharp... The air in the penthouse was thick with a specific, expensive silence—the kind that exists before a storm. I stood in the middle of the carpet, listening to the city’s distant hum, knowing that for the next forty-eight hours, that world outside ceased to exist. Only Mark, and the immediate space around him, would be real. The blindfold came down over my eyes like a verdict. Thick, luxurious black silk, tied by his expert hands so tight that even when I blinked, I saw only darkness, a deep, velvety absence that immediately heightened every other sense. I was adrift in scent and sound. Next came the cuffs: butter-soft leather lined with fleece, buckled around my wrists and clipped together behind my back, pulling my shoulders into a posture of helpless offering. Then my ankles: matching cuffs, connected by a short, precisely measured silver chain that allowed only tiny, humiliating steps, forcing me to shuffle. He didn’t rush. He never rus

JessyHe told me three days in advance. Not asked. Told.The command had landed in my lap like a dropped grenade, immediately shattering the predictable patterns of our intimacy. For three days, the words echoed in every silent corner of the penthouse, in every private moment we shared.“We’re having a guest Friday night. His name is Luca. Old friend. He’s going to touch you. Only what I allow. Only while I watch. You’ll wear the red silk robe and nothing else. You’ll keep your eyes on me the entire time. Say red if you need it to stop. Otherwise, you’re mine to share tonight.”The fear was real, sharp, and cold—the terror of the unknown, the violation of the us we had built. But beneath it, a dark, shameful heat coiled and grew, feeding on the terror until I was constantly on edge. It was the ultimate test of my surrender, the final boundary to be broken. Every time I caught Mark looking at me during those seventy-two hours, he’d smirk like he could smell how wet the thought made me

JessyYou look perfect, Jessy. My girl. I took a deep, shaky breath, the game intensifying tenfold. The party was over. The preparation was complete. Wait for me at the car service entrance. I spun around and headed for the front entrance, adrenaline pumping, my focus narrow and absolute. Graduation was just an expensive piece of paper. The real ceremony was about to begin. As I rounded the corner past the valet stand, a hand shot out and gripped my wrist, stopping me dead. “Jessy, wait.” It was Jeffrey. He must have followed me out immediately after I left the cake table. He didn’t release my wrist. His grip was firm, not cruel, but insistent. He looked pale, serious, his professional veneer momentarily gone. “I need you to tell me what’s going on. That bracelet… it’s brand new. The way you’re rushing. The way you flinch when someone touches you. I’m not judging, I’m worried. Is he the reason Elorm stopped talking to you?” I yanked my arm, trying to pull away. “This isn’t yo