Chapter 6

You leave Diane sleeping peacefully in your bed, her chest rising and falling in deep, exhausted breaths. The collar glints silver against her dark skin. The cursed box sits on your desk as you pass, three remaining collars nestled inside.

The hallway stretches before you, carpet soft beneath your bare feet. Your silk robe whispers against your thighs with each step, doing nothing to conceal your still-hard cock. The second collar weighs almost nothing in your palm.

Patricia's door is closed. You don't knock.

The guest room is dim, curtains drawn. Patricia sits on the edge of the bed in an oversized t-shirt, hands clasped between her knees. Her head snaps up as you enter, eyes widening.

"Who—" Then recognition floods her face. Not of you specifically, but of something deeper. Her pupils dilate. "You."

"Hello, Patricia," you say softly, closing the door behind you.

She stands on shaky legs, taking a hesitant step forward. Her gaze travels over you—the divine physique barely concealed by silk, the commanding presence that makes the air feel thick. Then down to your cock, visible through the parted robe, and her breath catches.

"Are you... are you Daddy?" Her voice is small, hopeful, ****.

You don't answer with words. Instead, you extend your hand—the one wearing the ring—and let her see it. Let her feel the power radiating from it.

Patricia's knees buckle. "Oh my god. It was you. It was you the whole time." She's trembling, hands covering her mouth. "Synn, you're... you're Daddy?"

"I am," you confirm, moving toward her. "I'm the one who fucked you. I'm the one who filled you. I'm the one who put my baby inside you."

Tears stream down her face—not from sadness, but overwhelming emotion. "You came back. Daddy came back to me."

"I told you I would, didn't I?" You cup her chin, tilting her face up. "Now be a good girl and kneel for Daddy."

She drops immediately, t-shirt riding up her thighs. Her hands reach for your robe, reverent, seeking.

"First," you say, holding up the collar. "This is yours. A gift from Daddy."

Patricia's eyes lock onto the black leather, the silver hardware catching the dim light. "For me?"

"Only for special little girls." You fasten it around her throat with a decisive click. She gasps as the enchantment takes hold, amplifying what's already there—the submission, the need, the absolute devotion.

"Thank you, Daddy," she whispers. "Thank you for claiming me."

Your cock throbs, demanding attention. Patricia's hands slide up your thighs, pushing the robe aside completely.

"Now," you say, threading your fingers through her hair. "Show Daddy how much you missed him."

You grip Patricia's shoulders and turn her around, guiding her toward the bed. She goes willingly, eagerly, the collar gleaming against her throat as she bends forward over the mattress. Her oversized t-shirt rides up, exposing the curve of her ass, the glistening evidence of her arousal coating her inner thighs.

"Pull it up," you command. "Show Daddy what belongs to him."

Patricia reaches back with trembling fingers, gathering the fabric and bunching it above her hips. Her pussy is swollen, pink, still tender from your earlier invisible ****. Fresh moisture drips down her legs.

"Please, Daddy," she whimpers, arching her back to present herself. "I need you inside me. I need to feel you for real this time."

You step forward, positioning yourself behind her. Your cock presses against her entrance, the head sliding through her wetness. She gasps at the contact, pushing back desperately.

"What are you?" you ask, gripping her hips.

"I'm your little girl," Patricia moans. "Daddy's little girl—oh fuck—"

You thrust forward in one smooth motion, burying yourself completely. Patricia screams into the mattress, her pussy clenching around you like a vice. The sensation is overwhelming—hot, wet, impossibly tight despite the earlier stretching.

"Say it again," you demand, establishing a deep, powerful rhythm. "Louder."

"I'm Daddy's little girl!" she cries out, her voice breaking. "Your little breeding slut, your little—oh god you're so deep—"

The bed frame creaks with each thrust, your balls slapping against her clit. Patricia's hands claw at the sheets, her entire body shaking with the **** of your penetration. You lean over her, bringing your mouth close to her ear.

"You want to know something, baby girl?"

"Y-yes, Daddy—"

"I just finished fucking your sister." You punctuate it with a particularly brutal thrust. "Diane. My mother. Bent her over the kitchen counter and bred her just like I'm breeding you now."

Patricia's pussy spasms violently around your cock, a strangled sound escaping her throat. "You—you fucked Diane?"

"Made her call me Daddy too," you continue, grinding against her cervix. "Made her my little girl. She's upstairs in my bed right now, sleeping with my cum dripping out of her, wearing one of these collars just like yours."

"Oh my god," Patricia whimpers, but her hips are pushing back harder, meeting your thrusts with **** need. "That's so wrong—"

"And after I'm done breeding you," you say, your voice dropping to a dark growl, "I'm going to fuck my sisters. Starting with Keisha. Going to make her Daddy's little girl too. Going to breed every woman in this house."

Patricia's orgasm hits without warning, her entire body convulsing as she screams into the mattress. Her pussy milks your cock frantically, trying to pull you deeper, demanding your seed.

"That's it, baby girl," you praise, never stopping your thrusts. "Come on Daddy's cock while I tell you how I'm going to corrupt your whole family."

You grip Patricia's hips harder, driving into her with renewed intensity. Her pussy clenches desperately around your shaft, still rippling from her previous orgasm. The collar glints in the dim light as she throws her head back.

"Daddy, please," she gasps, pushing back to meet each thrust. "Fill me up again. Breed your little girl properly this time."

"Such a greedy little slut," you growl, reaching around to pinch her clit between your fingers. She shrieks, her entire body going rigid. "Already carrying my baby and begging for more."

"Yes! I'm Daddy's greedy breeding slut!" Her voice breaks into a sob as another orgasm builds. "I want—I need—oh fuck, Daddy, I'm coming again—"

You feel your own release approaching, balls tightening as her pussy milks your cock frantically. With a final brutal thrust, you bury yourself to the hilt and let go. Thick ropes of divine cum flood her already-seeded womb as Patricia screams into the mattress, her third orgasm tearing through her.

Long moments pass as you both catch your breath. When you finally withdraw, your cum leaks obscenely from her swollen hole. Patricia collapses onto the bed, trembling.

"Come on, baby girl," you say, helping her stand on unsteady legs. "You're sleeping in Daddy's bed tonight. With your sister."

Her eyes widen. "Diane's... in your bed?"

"Where else would my little girls sleep?" You guide her out of the guest room and down the hall. Her legs shake with each step, your combined fluids trailing down her thighs.

Your bedroom door opens quietly. Diane remains deeply asleep, collar gleaming against her throat, completely naked atop the sheets. Her breasts rise and fall steadily, dried cum still visible on her inner thighs.

You settle Patricia beside her sister. She stares at Diane's sleeping form, reaching out tentatively to touch the matching collar.

"We're both yours now," Patricia whispers, something like wonder in her voice.

"That's right," you confirm, pulling the sheet over both of them. "Both Daddy's good little girls."

Patricia's eyes flutter closed almost immediately, exhausted from being thoroughly bred. You watch them for a moment—your mother and your aunt, both collared, both filled with your seed, both completely owned.

The cursed box sits on your desk. You open it, retrieving a third collar. The leather is cool against your palm as you close the box again and adjust your silk robe.

Time to visit Keisha.

Her room is at the end of the hall. Light shows beneath the door—she's still awake. You can hear her moving around, humming something cheerful. Through the ring's telepathic connection, her thoughts filter through: excitement about tomorrow's coffee date with Brandon, wondering what to wear, hoping he'll like her.

Innocent thoughts. For now.

You raise your hand and knock gently on her door.