The days after Daddy’s decision settled into a strange, addictive rhythm.

There were no more secret calls. No more mentions of Sophia. Only us.

But the guilt still lived in the quiet moments when I cooked breakfast naked except for my collar, when I knelt under his desk during meetings, when I woke up in the middle of the night with his cum still leaking out of me.

One evening, after a particularly rough session where he had used all three of my holes, I lay curled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Daddy?” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

I hesitated, tracing circles on his skin.

“Do you ever… regret choosing...