The final step to detox: a proper, internal soak.

The morning sun tickles the darkness of your room, but you're not present to observe and enjoy it. You've spent the last twelve hours locked in this bathroom, without air conditioning and nothing but the heat and the sweat and the stink of your daughter's body and your own. Your eyes are bleary from sleep deprivation, but the stress on your body is nothing compared to hers: the enema swelled her body painfully until you finally let her relieve herself into the toilet, her orgasms perverting the sensation of explosive relief out of her backdoor and mixing it with the intense vibration of the toys you've taped to her crotch and nipples. Her red ball gag and lips and ever-slick with her drool, and her attempts at protesting or alarmed exclamations have been reduced to an incessant, tired moan. She tries to drift to sleep, past the pain and pleasure, but you've kept her standing now for the last two hours to ensure she never rests, and also taking the chance to sleepily **** her body, rubbing your sweaty flesh against hers, enjoying the sensation of your cock twitching between her thighs, but never coming prematurely, as you wait for the fated moment. "We're almost done, baby," you whisper, earning her wretched sob as she realizes it isn't over yet. Much to her relief, you remove the vibrating eggs from her nipples, both having long since run out of battery. You reach down and loosen the ropes that kept the non-vibrating dildo plugged into her crotch, massive and thick as it is, and probe the slickness of a pussy exhausted with its attempts to spit out the foreign object. You let those same fingers roam and plum the depths of her anus, her sphincter too worn to refuse you and her body surging and standing on the tips of her toes as it tries to escape you. But there is no escape, not anymore.

At last, you undo the controlling knots of her bindings, and let her arms fall to her side. This sudden relief makes her body shudder as it collapses against you, and begins to convulse as she drifts to sleep. You shove two fingers into her asshole, reaching up to the knuckles, and she's up and awake once again. "We're almost done, baby... let's get into the shower here..." You take her, and your bindings, into the standing shower, roomy as the chamber is. It's already fogging up from the hours of tiring, soul-crushing foreplay you've put your teenage fucktoy through, and once the glass door closes you finally remove her gag.

"Uuuuuuhhhh," is the first word she manages for the day. One more bowl of water is pressed against her lips, and her thirst overrides her fatigue.

"You're going to get to sleep really soon, Issy," you coo, eyeing the last tool left inside the shower, the final key to your plan. "We just have to do a cleaning and then we're done.

"Nuuuh-huh-huh-huhooooooooo~"

"We have to honey, or you'll die," you state bluntly, and finally you lower her to the ground. Despite knowing what's coming, she hasn't the willpower to refuse what almost feels like a chance to rest from standing. She lays down on the porcelain-tiled shower floor... and you quickly work the bindings, folding her legs up in a new, but still highly restrictive, position: by the end of it, with arms wrapped behind her knees and bound there, she looks like a black strung-up chicken, with that filthy, sweaty, slick slit of pink pointing up to your face, inviting with its swollen lips. "Don't worry baby, I'll make it very quick."

You've had the patience of a messiah, and finally you're about to collect the fruits of your labor. She's dangerously close to ovulating by now, and when that precious egg finally comes down it will be to meet the torrent of sperm you've saved up. Her abused cunt, overly sensitive and sore from vibrating eggs, fingering, and a massive dildo, has blossomed in waiting. Your cock is already twitching, and a droplet of pre-cum is your only warning as you line your meat up to her slit. Your body shudders as her labia kisses your manhood, and parts like butter to engulf it. You've practically been edging for twenty-four hours, and your balls, already full and now in over-production, almost sore from wanting release, pulse as you hastily sink yourself to the hilt. Isabella does nothing but moan, and her soaked birth canal does nothing but welcome you in until you slam against her cervix and come.

God, do you come. Your shaking hands wander and pinch at every part of her flesh in reach, unsure of what to do as your entire nervous system pulses in tune with your impregnating shots of jism into this teenager. She thinks you're cleaning her out, she thinks this bald pussy is safe from pregnancy... she has no idea, no warning about the children you're pouring into her life, her very destiny as you fill her pussy. The angle by which you tie her lets you slowly rise out of her as you come, taking care to not stay buried lest you end up shoving some of your baby batter out and uselessly onto the shower floor. Everything you deposit remains pooled over her cervix, ever-so-slowly draining into the womb proper. "Oh honey... you have no idea... how... how ready you are for what's coming." She can only moan in response, trapped in a half-asleep state as her defenseless uterus prepares for the new life it will host. With the tip of your spasming head still inside her, you reach over... and bring forth the tiny, pink silicon disc you purchased along with the rest of your equipment. You pinch the tip that sticks out from its folds and pull, slowly uncollapsing the Lily Cup until half of it sticks out... and proceed to replace your cock with it, pushing it down her vagina until the pressure of your seed and her vaginal walls resists it. Having trapped your seed inside to a satisfying level, you bring the dildo back and shove it into her, filling her completely with half the length of the giant toy, the securing cup, and your massive dump of semen. She moans in protest, but you continue shushing her while you tie the ropes back on to secure the plug, and with it your chances at finally knocking up your ex-wife's daughter. "We're just going to sleep here in the shower, baby," you sigh, barely able to stay conscious between the sleep deprivation and your orgasm. You cuddle with her sweating form, and kiss her moaning mouth while rubbing away what tears you can identify amid the droplets of sweat on her feebleminded expression. "When you wake up... you'll be all better, I promise."