The Model Daughter: Posing for Dad
Chapter 3

The studio feels hotter tonight, almost stifling. I’m already naked when I walk in, robe left behind in my bedroom like a discarded shred of shame. Dad’s eyes rake over me the second I appear—slow, possessive, burning with that artist’s hunger that makes my pussy clench before he’s even touched me.

“On the table today, baby,” he says, voice low and commanding. “On your back. Legs spread wide and held open. Arms above your head. You’re going to be my perfect little model. That means you stay completely still. No matter what I do to you. Understand?”

I nod, throat dry, and...