“Jesus,” I whispered, leaning closer to the screen. Something powerful and unexpected tightened in my chest as I watched her begin to move against the pillow, her hips working in small, needy circles. Her face was turned to the side, pressed against the mattress, eyes half-closed in remembered pleasure or anticipated pain—perhaps both.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The way her bottom moved, the little shivers that ran through her body—it was like I could read every thought passing through her mind. My little girl wasn’t just seeking relief; she had clearly decided to perform, to put on a deliberate show for whoever might be watching. For me. She knew, somehow—or perhaps she just hoped—that her daddy would be monitoring her.
“Please, Daddy,” she moaned, her voice coming through the speakers with startling clarity. “I promise I’ll be good… please don’t whip me anymore. My pussy is so sore… my bottom hole hurts so much… but… but… please… please fuck me, Daddy… please fuck me so hard…”
My fingers tightened on the edge of the desk as she reached for the vibrator, sliding it a little awkwardly under her hip and between her spread thighs. She turned it on, the soft buzz audible even through the surveillance system.
The effect was immediate and electric. Her body went rigid, then began to tremble violently. She came with a desperate, keening cry that sounded like it was torn from the depths of her soul.
“Daddy… Daddy, please… harder… harder…”
I tapped my jawbone twice, the signal to open the comm line.
“What do you need?” Esme’s voice came through immediately, all business.
I couldn’t look away from the screen, where Louisa continued to hump the buzzing vibrator, tears streaming down her face even as her hips moved in a frantic rhythm in search of more pleasure.
“I need to set up a meeting with corporate,” I said, my voice rough with emotions I couldn’t fully identify.
“About the girl?” Esme asked, her tone sharpening with interest.
“Yes,” I replied. “I want her transferred to my permanent custody.”
“That’s… unusual,” Esme said carefully. “Selecta doesn’t typically?—”
“I don’t care what they typically do,” I cut her off. “Set up the meeting. Tomorrow morning, before her parole board appearance.”
Esme didn’t respond. I didn’t care. My attention had returned fully to the monitor where Louisa’s performance continued in a way that made my cock rigid against my thigh.
She’d spread her knees wider, arched her back more, so that her clenching pussy and squirming bottom presented themselves for the camera even more fully. Her movements had become slower, as if she were getting tired, but couldn’t part with the soothing of the toy between her thighs.
“Are you watching, Daddy?” she whispered, her voice a breathless rasp as she wedged the vibrator against the pillow so that she could hump it more freely. “I can almost feel your eyes on me.”
I leaned closer to the screen as Louisa’s body began to quiver with the approach of another climax. Her hands moved around to her backside. My cock leapt as my little girl spread her bottom cheeks wide apart, naughtily exposing her tight, pink hole.
“Please, Daddy,” she begged, grinding her pussy harder against the vibrator’s buzzing head. “I need you to fuck my bottom again. It’s yours… all of me is yours.”
Her body convulsed as another orgasm tore through her, more powerful than the first. She screamed my name—not just Daddy this time, but Daddy Jax—as her body shook with pleasure. The sound of my actual name on her lips during such an intimate moment sent an electric shock through my system.
“Fuck,” I whispered, barely aware I’d spoken aloud.
“I’ll set up that meeting,” Esme said, her voice startling me. I’d forgotten the comm was still open. “Corporate will want to know why you’re making this request.”
I continued watching as Louisa collapsed onto the bed, her chest heaving with exertion, the vibrator still clutched in her trembling hand. She turned and looked directly at the camera, her eyes heavy-lidded, but aware.
“Please just set up the meeting, Esme,” I repeated, ignoring her question. “First thing tomorrow.”
Louisa
A female guard brought me a pink prison uniform to wear when she came to take me to the bathroom so I could clean myself up. I could hardly believe I had put on the lewd self-pleasure exhibition for the camera last night, but at the same time I couldn’t help feeling proud of myself.
I had needed it. I had asked permission, and I had shown whoever was watching that I knew about my bad girl needs, and how to satisfy them when my daddy (or daddies) couldn’t help me with their belts and their cocks.
So I held my head high when I walked into the conference room to meet with the parole board.
Then I saw Jax at the table and I lost it. My knees buckled as tears sprang to my eyes. I couldn’t believe he was here—my daddy, looking as powerful and commanding as ever in a tailored dark suit. Without thinking, I ran toward him, a sob escaping my throat.
Jax stood, opening his arms to catch me as I collapsed against his broad chest. His familiar scent enveloped me—that masculine mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely him—and I buried my face against him, my tears soaking into his pristine white shirt.
