I barely slept after the truck. Every time I closed my eyes I felt his fingers stretching me, his cock pulsing on my tongue, the sting of his palm on my ass. My pussy stayed swollen and aching, clit so sensitive that even the sheet brushing against it made me whimper into my pillow. I didn’t touch myself—couldn’t. He’d told me no, and the thought of disobeying him made the throb worse, like my body was already learning who it belonged to.

The next night I waited until Dad was in the living room watching a game, Mom already in bed. I slipped into a simple black sundress—short again, thin...