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Chapter 3: Longing and Aching

After what happened in the room, the department head was promoted and became the CRO (Chief Revenue Officer).

He was rarely seen around the office anymore. From early morning until late at night, he was occupied with inspecting domestic and overseas branches, attending critical meetings, and going on business trips; even his internal emails were increasingly routed through his secretary. Michael had become even more cold and calculating than before—a perfectionist who was ruthless about the numbers.

Meanwhile, every day was a living hell for me. "You made a mistake again?" a senior colleague’s exasperated voice would ring out. It was the third time this month I’d ​​made a numerical error in a submitted document. They were all trivial mistakes—the kind where anyone could tell I’d done it on purpose.

But I couldn't stop myself.

(I want Manager—no, Michael the CRO—to notice me.)

I longed desperately for those moments: being scolded with cold eyes, berated with harsh words, and having my bottom spanked until it was swollen while being told, "You belong to me." I missed it so much I couldn't stand it.

I longed desperately for those moments: being scolded with cold eyes, berated with harsh words, and having my bottom spanked until it was swollen while being told, "You belong to me." I missed it so much I couldn't stand it.

At night, lying in bed at home, I hiked up my uniform skirt and pulled my panties down to my knees. In the dark room, I clutched Michael’s business card—which I kept by my pillow—and sank my fingers into my intimate depths. "Nn… haa…" I rubbed my clitoris, imagining myself being spanked.

Michael’s low, cold voice echoed in my ears.

"Pathetic. Getting this wet just from a spanking." "Cry more. You can't live without my discipline, can you?"

"Ah… Michael… please… discipline me…" My fingers moved faster.

With my other hand, I squeezed my breasts hard and pinched my nipples.

Recalling the sensation of my bottom swollen from Michael’s spanking, I rubbed my thighs together and arched my hips.

"No… this is so perverted… but I want it… harder…"

As the climax drew near, my mind was completely consumed by thoughts of Michael.

Follow us to read more! ■

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■ Tonight, for sure, he will properly scold me.

He will scold the useless me, and then he will indulge me. I will receive plenty of that "discipline"—painful and agonizing, yet deeply pleasurable.

The office was dead silent now that the workday had ended. "Come to my place tonight." Division Manager Jackson’s voice was low and cold, as always. His gaze, piercing from behind his glasses, seemed to drill right through me. "Yes…" My voice trembled as I answered. I had made a critical error in the documents today, causing trouble for the entire department, and I knew there was no escape. Fear, guilt, and a strange, fluttering sensation—almost like anticipation—swirled deep within my chest. As I prepared to head to his home, I took deep breaths over and over again. Manager Jackson’s apartment was sophisticated, just as I had imagined—or perhaps even more so. Located on the top floor of a high-rise, the spacious living room offered a sweeping view of the night skyline.

"Sit." After having my coat removed at the entrance and being made to kneel on the floor, I began to report the details of my mistake, my voice shaking. Which documents, where, and how I had made the error. Manager Jackson sat back comfortably on the sofa, legs crossed, listening in silence. By the time I finished my report, I was at my breaking point. Tears welled up, and my shoulders trembled slightly. "…I am truly, deeply sorry." "Well said." Manager Jackson spoke for the first time—his voice low, carrying a sweet, resonant tone. "You rely on me too much. Even when you make a mistake that wouldn't be tolerated at the company, you think, 'The manager will fix it for me,' don't you?" "That’s not…" "Is it?" Pierced by his sharp gaze, I gave a small shake of my head. "No… but when I'm with you, I just can't help but…" "Can't help but…?" "…I want to be perfect for you, but I keep failing, and I hate myself for it…" The corners of Manager Jackson’s lips curled up ever so slightly. "Good girl. You admitted it honestly. In that case, I’ll give you a special lesson today—one that ensures you’ll never want to make a mistake again… at my hands."

"Stand up and hike up your skirt." I slowly stood and rolled my knee-length tight skirt up to my waist myself. Next, my pantyhose and underwear were pulled down, and the cold air touched my exposed skin. I bent over across his lap. The manager caressed my white buttocks affectionately.

"There’s only one way to discipline the backside that made a mistake at the office." Manager Jackson picked up a gleaming black baton—a hard, cold instrument made of a combination of metal and special resin. The first blow was surprisingly light. A dry snap echoed, and a spreading warmth bloomed across my buttocks. "Nn…!" "We're just getting started. Make sure you cry out." The intensity gradually increased. The baton struck alternately left and right, keeping a rhythmic snap-snap beat. As the pain mounted, my hips jerked and my knees trembled violently. "Are you getting aroused by this discipline?" He traced the tip of the baton along the cleft of my buttocks and stimulated the lips of my wet pussy. With that same spot relentlessly targeted, I could no longer suppress my voice. It was humiliating and painful—yet, a sweet ache began to mingle with it, a heat melting down into my lower belly. Snap! He struck the reddened area again. It hurt. The moment the wave of pain receded, Manager Jackson’s large hand gently caressed my swollen buttocks. His cool fingertips carefully rubbed the heated skin. "You're enduring it well… You're adorable." He planted a soft kiss on the red, swollen area. The alternation between pain and tenderness made my head swim. The baton came down again, and I gasped and sobbed. "Manager… please, let me off the hook…" "I won't. You're my subordinate. I'm going to drill this lesson into your body so you never make a mistake again." Smack! The force of the blow nearly sent me collapsing forward, but Manager Jackson quickly caught me. "Reached your limit?" "…Yes… but…" "But?" Tears streaming down my face, I whispered,

"…I want you to… discipline me… more…"

Manager Jackson’s eyes narrowed with satisfaction. "Good girl." By the time the spanking ended, I was utterly spent. My swollen bottom throbbed with heat. Manager Jackson scooped me up and carried me to the bed as if I were something precious; the scent of his sweet, spicy cologne tickled my nose. He laid me on my side so my bottom wouldn't touch the mattress, then cupped my cheek in his large hand and wiped away the tear tracks with his thumb. "That must have hurt, didn't it? But you took it like a champ." He whispered in a low, husky voice as he carefully applied cool gel to my swollen bottom. "Seeing you endure the pain turns me on." He pressed his lips against mine—gently at first, then deepening into a ravenous kiss. Our tongues tangled until I was breathless; all I could do was clutch his shirt to steady myself. "Mmm… hah… Manager…" "Call me Michael. We aren't at the office now." He nibbled gently at my earlobe before planting hot kisses along my neck. He slowly undressed me, removing my uniform blouse, and his large hand slid over my exposed breasts. He slipped his fingers beneath the edge of my bra, flicking, pinching, and teasing my nipples. My body, sensitized by the earlier pain, jerked and shuddered at the slightest touch. Using his free hand, he kneaded my other breast, shifted my bra aside, and quickly took my nipple into his mouth. He lightly grazed the tip with his teeth and swirled his tongue around it before sucking hard. It felt so incredibly good that I let out a moan without a shred of shame. Manager Jackson—Michael—held me close against his chest while gently kneading and stroking my swollen bottom. The pain began to transform into a sweet, throbbing ache. "It’s hot right here… I’m teaching every inch of it to remember my touch." His fingertips traced the reddened, swollen area, occasionally giving it a light pinch. Even though it hurt, a heat spread deep within my body, making my hips sway involuntarily. "It’s obvious you’re feeling it. You’re such an honest, adorable rookie." His voice grew even deeper and sweeter. He wrapped my legs around his waist and, pressing our bodies tightly together, kissed me again and again—deeper each time. His hard chest, his searing body heat, and the powerful strength of his arms as they enveloped me made me feel like I was melting away completely. Michael didn't let go of me; instead, he whispered into my ear over and over. "I’m never letting anyone else see this again. This body, that tear-streaked face—it all belongs to me. You understand?" "…Yes… I belong… to you, Michael…" Drowning in a mix of pleasure and a sense of security, I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him. Michael smiled with satisfaction, planted a gentle kiss on my forehead, and held me tight in the bed. I drifted off to sleep in his arms, feeling him stroke my swollen bottom and occasionally plant sweet kisses on me until morning.

When I woke up the next morning, Michael was already dressed in a suit and standing beside the bed. He always looked impeccable in his stylish three-piece suits, a decorative chain belt wrapped around his waist.

A wicked thought crossed my mind for a split second: what if I were to be punished with that chain belt…? He had reverted to the persona of a cold, calculating division manager—a stark contrast to the intensity he had shown last night. "Don't be late today. And make sure last night doesn't affect your work." "…Yes, sir." After Michael left the room, I lay back on the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. The dull ache lingering in my backside and the sweet sensations of the previous night were still imprinted on my body. The feeling of being held, disciplined, and completely accepted by Michael… (…I want more.) The thought suddenly crossed my mind. If I made just a small mistake next time… I might get summoned to his home again, struck hard with a baton, reduced to tears, and then held gently in his arms. Not on purpose—I’d just have to make a genuine, minor slip-up. Michael would surely scold me with those cold eyes and "educate" me with his hot hands… I replayed his words from the night before in my mind: "From now on, every time you make a mistake, I’ll discipline you just like this." From now on… "…No." I hurriedly covered my face with both hands. At this rate, I wouldn't be able to get any work done. To think I’d actually want to make a mistake just to experience Michael’s discipline again… the thought of myself like that was almost frightening. Yet, deep within my body, a sweet ache—a longing for that next "special lesson"—was already beginning to glow.

---

A vast, white mansion stood in an upscale California neighborhood. Jasmine, 20 years old, had been in the U.S. for three months on a working holiday. A Black woman with a youthful, baby-faced appearance—striking for her large eyes and full, supple lips—she maintained a youthful figure despite having previously given birth. Her voluptuous breasts, having nursed a child, remained prone to producing milk.

Today was her shift as a babysitter at the grand mansion. She had been called in on short notice to fill a sudden vacancy in the rotating staff schedule.

Greeting her at the entrance was Michael Jackson, a man nearing forty. The moment he saw Jasmine, he narrowed his eyes.

"So, you're the one on duty today… You're even cuter than I imagined."

Despite her baby face, she possessed a figure clearly defined even through her uniform: a large bust, a trim waist, and shapely hips. Michael felt an immediate surge of lust he couldn't suppress, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

Her first day of work went smoothly. When she went to report that the baby was asleep, she found Michael drinking wine in the poolside lounge area.

"It must have been hot work. Feel free to take a dip in the pool. There are a few bikinis in the changing room; pick whichever one you like."

"Are you sure? Thank you so much!" She had been eyeing that gorgeous pool ever since she arrived; she had been dying to swim in it! Jasmine happily headed to the changing room. However, the bikinis provided were all tiny, minimalist styles designed for slender frames. None of them fit her voluptuous bust properly, and the white micro-bikini she chose ended up looking disastrous.

"Oh my… this is totally…"

She managed to put it on by stretching the straps to their limit, but the white fabric barely covered her nipples. Her deep cleavage was heavily accentuated, and the slightest movement threatened to spill her areolas out into the open. The bottom piece was tiny, too; the white straps dug into her glossy black skin, creating a provocative contrast.

The moment she stepped out onto the poolside, Michael’s gaze pierced her with intense heat.

"…What a fucking incredible body."

"It doesn't fit right… I'm sorry, I'll go change!"

"No, leave it on. …It looks amazing on you."

Michael stood up and pulled Jasmine close by the waist. He pressed his lips against hers—a kiss that began gently but quickly deepened into a passionate exchange of tongues. Over the past few days, Jasmine had found herself drawn to his devastatingly handsome looks and his attitude—at once gentle yet commanding and utterly self-assured. She had not the slightest intention of resisting.

"Mmm…!"

As they kissed, he shifted the top of her white bikini aside. Her large, firm, dark breasts sprang free, and a thin sheen of breast milk was already beading at the tips.

"You're lactating…?"

"Yes… it hasn't stopped yet…"

Making no secret of his arousal, Michael took one nipple into his mouth. As he sucked—slurp, slurp—sweet breast milk spurted vigorously into his mouth.

"Ngh…! Is it… sweet?"

"So sweet… like honey."

He continued to suckle alternately, teasing and stroking her other nipple with his fingers. White milk splattered, wetting Jasmine's dark skin and the poolside tiles. Overcome by a mix of shame and pleasure, Jasmine writhed her hips, unable to suppress her sweet moans.

"Haa… ahn… I'm coming…"

Reaching his limit, Michael slid her white bikini bottom to the side. He latched onto her already hot, wet core, darting his tongue in and out in a passionate act of cunnilingus that made her juices flow in an unstoppable stream. He pulled out his hard, engorged penis and rubbed it up and down against her entrance. When the head of his cock brushed against her clitoris, she let out a high-pitched moan. Then, he slowly slid his penis into her pussy. She gasped as she felt that hard, eight-inch shaft pushing deep inside her body. "Nngh…! It's so big…"

"You're so tight and hot inside… it feels amazing."

He began to move his hips slowly, gradually increasing the intensity. With every deep thrust in the missionary position, Jasmine’s large breasts bounced violently, sending jets of breast milk spraying out in white droplets. Aroused by the sight, Michael pinched her nipples with his fingers, coaxing even more milk to spurt out.

"Let it all out… I want to drink up all your sweet milk," he whispered, licking the milk spraying from her nipples.

"Ah… ah… no… it's so embarrassing… but it feels so good…!"

They changed positions, with Jasmine now straddling him, facing him. As she moved her hips, he kneaded her breasts and sucked on her nipples. The sensation of him greedily drinking her breast milk made her mind go hazy.

"Move… go harder."

"Okay… ah… you're hitting deep inside…!"

Caught in the rhythm of the intense up-and-down motion, Jasmine reached climax again and again. Afterward, Michael had her get on all fours and thrust into her relentlessly from behind. The strings of her white micro-bikini dug into her skin, making her dark complexion look even more erotic. Unable to support her weight with her arms any longer, she arched her hips high; from Michael's perspective, all he could see was her buttocks and their frothing, joined bodies. Breast milk continued to spill from her breasts, which were pressed against the floor, leaving wet stains on the ground. "Jasmine… you're amazing."

Her mind went blank, as if she’d been struck by an electric shock, yet looking at his face made her yearn for release. For the finale, they returned to the missionary position; deeply joined, they shared a passionate kiss. Jasmine’s body shuddered violently as she reached one climax after another. Michael let out a low groan and poured a torrent of hot semen deep inside her.

At that moment, a final, powerful jet of sweet breast milk spurted from Jasmine’s nipples, mingling into a white blend between their chests.

Amidst their ragged breathing, Michael gently pulled Jasmine into an embrace. He buried his face in her chest—damp with sweat and milk—and planted soft, repeated kisses on her nipples.

"It was sweet… every part of you was delicious."

Limp with exhaustion, Jasmine smiled happily.

"…Will you call for me again?"

"Yeah. You can be on the schedule every day from now on."

Chapter 1

"Y/N, come to the conference room. Right now." The voice on the phone was low and chillingly cold. I am Y/N (23), a rookie three months into the job. Today, I had made a critical numerical error in a presentation for a major client. When I entered the conference room, Mr. Jackson—a division manager and executive—was waiting alone. Tall and slender, he always wore impeccably tailored, high-end suits. With his piercing gaze and deep voice that made subordinates tremble, he was the most feared man in the company. "I hear you got the figures wrong and embarrassed the client." "I—I am terribly sorry…!" Mr. Jackson sighed and loosened his tie as he spoke. "I won't go easy on you just because you're a rookie. I’m going to drill you thoroughly. You’re prepared for that, aren't you?"

Chapter 2

The sound of the conference room door locking echoed through the room. "Hike your skirt up to your waist. Place both hands on the desk and arch your back. Spread your feet to shoulder-width." Trembling with a mix of dread and anticipation, I pulled my tight skirt up to my waist. My black skirt was bunched at my hips, leaving my white buttocks exposed. The manager stood behind me and slowly caressed my buttocks with a cool palm. "For a rookie, you’ve got a cheeky-looking backside. Today, I’m going to spank it until it’s swollen." Smack! The first open-handed slap exploded against my right buttock. A sharp pain shot through me, and I let out a small cry. Smack! Smack! Smack! He continued to strike, alternating sides in a relentless rhythm. At first, there was only the sharp, dry sound of the impact, but gradually, my skin began to heat up and swell red. "Ah…! It hurts… Chief, it hurts…!" "Hurts? Don't cry over something like this. Consider it punishment for your mistake." He struck hard enough to be felt even through my panties, sometimes digging his fingers in and kneading the flesh roughly. My entire backside burned with heat, and a throbbing numbness radiated down to my lower abdomen. "Count how many times you're hit." He stated this coldly, then stroked my buttocks again before resuming the spanking. Whack! Ten times, twenty times… By the time I lost count, I was clinging to the desk, my legs trembling violently. Mr. Jackson slowly pulled my panties down to my knees.

The cold air touched my bare skin directly. "Here, take a look." He spread my swollen buttocks wide with both hands, exposing my intimate parts. "Look, you're already so wet, the juices are stringing down. Are you getting turned on by being spanked? What a pathetic rookie." My face flushed bright red with shame and I shook my head, but he just gave a mocking laugh. "Don't lie." He pressed his thumb lightly against my clitoris and began to trace slow circles. While kneading my swollen buttocks with one hand, he swirled his fingertip through my slickness. "Nn… Ah… Stop it…" "I won't. You're being cheeky." He slowly slid his long middle finger inside. He stirred the hot, tight space, carefully rubbing against the walls. "Ah… Nn…" He added a second finger, moving them in short, quick strokes with a flick of his wrist. The sound of obscene, wet friction began to echo through the conference room. Squelch… squelch… wet, sucking sounds… "Look at you, overflowing like this. Reacting so intensely just from having your ass spanked—you really are a slut, aren't you?" He moved his fingers vigorously in and out while relentlessly stimulating my clitoris with his thumb.

Every now and then, he’d give my flushed, swollen buttocks a light slap with his free hand. Waves of pain and pleasure washed over me in turns. I dug my fingernails into the desk and writhed, tears streaming down my face. "Ahh…! Manager… stop moving your fingers… I'm… losing my mind…" "We're nowhere near done yet. I'm going to loosen you up even deeper." He increased the count to three fingers; while precisely rubbing against my G-spot, he used another finger to rapidly flick my clitoris. He kneaded my swollen buttocks, occasionally striking them hard. The pain transformed into pleasure, and my mind went blank. "That's a great sound. Keep moaning for me." Squelch! Squelch! Wet, sucking sounds His finger movements quickened, and finally, unable to hold back any longer, I reached a small climax. My legs trembled so violently I could no longer cling to the desk, and my juices dripped down, running along my thighs. "Ha… ah…! I… I came…" He withdrew his fingers and held them up before my eyes, glistening with my fluids. "Pathetic. Cumming just from a little 'instruction.' But the real lesson is just getting started."

Chapter 3

Mr. Jackson undid his belt and pulled out his hard, erect cock. It was thick and nearly nine inches long, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. "Now for the real instruction. I'm going to drill it into you—from your head down to the deepest part of your ass—with my cock." He gripped my swollen buttocks tightly, positioned his cock against my wet entrance, and thrust it deep inside in one go. "Aaaah! It's so thick… I'm tearing…!" "Shut up. I need to teach that hole of yours a lesson so you never make a mistake again." He thrusts violently. He mercilessly rams into my cervix while slapping my buttocks, which are already flushed hot from the spanking. Pain and pleasure mingle; I dig my fingernails into the desk and moan. Even as he thrusts rhythmically, he keeps up the spanking. Slapping, kneading, and gripping my reddened, swollen bottom, he pounds into me with the raw intensity of a beast. "How is it? Does the Manager's cock feel good?" "It… it feels so good… I love… the Manager's cock…!" He grabs my hair, pulling my head back, and whispers low in my ear: "From now on, every time you make a mistake, I’ll discipline you right here until your ass is swollen red. Understood? You’re going to be my personal toy." The intensity of his movements drives me to climax again and again. Finally, Mr.Jackson pours a torrent of hot semen deep inside me and gently strokes my swollen buttocks.

Chapter 4

Afterward, Mr.Jackson lifts me onto his lap and applies cool lotion to my swollen bottom. His touch is surprisingly gentle. Perhaps he’s a kind person deep down. "You endured it well. I'll give you credit for that." He wipes away my tears with his thumb and presses his lips lightly against mine. His lips are soft and smell faintly of tobacco. Just as I wish for another kiss, he pulls away. "If you mess up again, next time it won't be the conference room—it'll be my apartment, all night long. Be ready for it, rookie." Exhausted, I give a small nod. There is no escaping this boss now. I am destined to endure fierce spankings and deep, punishing "instruction" every time I make a mistake. A thrill runs through me at the thought, and I feel my panties growing wet once more.....

NEXT

Chapter 1

The air in the live music venue was thick with heat, sweat, and desire.

Swaying in the front row, I was just a face in the crowd—an ordinary twenty-six-year-old office worker whose name didn't matter.

Ray Cross, standing on stage, commanded the audience with a rugged, deep voice and a physique that hadn't lost its edge despite him being over forty. He wore black leather pants and a chain belt; a chest tattoo peeked out from his open shirt, and a silver chain glinted at his throat.

His hand, gripping the microphone, was thick and corded with veins. If those hands ever grabbed me, I knew I wouldn't be able to escape. "Maybe I'll take someone home tonight—make it a special occasion," Ray chuckled low in his throat at the edge of the stage, and for a split second, our eyes locked.

Just for a moment. Yet, my heart leapt, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. After the show…

A staff member grabbed my arm, and before I knew it, I’d been ushered into the VIP room. "The Boss wants to see you."

Chapter 2

The moment I entered the room, the door shut heavily behind me. Ray Cross was lounging deep in the sofa, tipping back a glass of whiskey.

Sweat-dampened bangs clung to his forehead, and his sharp eyes sized me up. "What's your name?" "…Um, it's Naomi." "Cute name, Naomi."

He set his glass down and tapped his knee lightly with his fingers. "Come here." My legs moved on their own.

As I stood before him, a large hand gripped my waist, pulling me onto his lap in a single, fluid motion.

I could feel the heat and hardness of his thighs; I knew he was already aroused. "You were listening to my songs the most erotically today, weren't you? Rubbing your legs together right there in the front row." He whispered this close to my ear, and a flush of heat spread through my body from sheer embarrassment.

"N-no, that's not…"

"Girls who lie get a scolding from Daddy."

At that moment, something inside me melted.

Daddy. I never knew those words could sound so lewd and sweet. Rei grabbed my chin and forced a kiss on me.

It was an intense kiss—his tongue invading deep, tracing my teeth, and lapping up my saliva.

I couldn't breathe. Yet, I wanted more. "Take off your clothes. All of them." With trembling fingers, I unzipped my dress.

Rei looked down at me with satisfaction as I stood there in just my underwear. "Good girl. You really know how to listen to Daddy." He pushed me down onto the sofa and pinned both my wrists above my head with one hand.

His other hand slid inside my underwear. "Ah…"

"You're already so wet. You wanted my cock since the concert started, didn't you?" Two thick fingers thrust inside all at once.

They churned violently, and the sound of wet, lewd friction echoed through the room. I arched my hips and gasped.

"H-ha… No, it's too intense…"

"This is just the beginning. Cum while you cry."

Rei nibbled gently at my nipples while speeding up the movement of his fingers.

He relentlessly stimulated my G-spot, and I quickly reached my first climax. "C-cumming…!" As my body spasmed, Rei pulled his fingers out and undid his belt.

Chapter 3

His member was bigger than I’d imagined.

Long and thick, the tip already glistening with clear fluid. "Service me with your mouth. Make Daddy feel good." Forced to my knees, I cupped him in both hands and tentatively ran my tongue over him. As I flicked my tongue against the tip, Rei grabbed my hair and ruthlessly thrust himself deep into my mouth.

"Take it all the way to the back of your throat. Good girl… you're good at this."

As I sucked desperately, tears welling in my eyes, I heard a low groan escape Rei.

That sound made me incredibly happy. "I can't hold back anymore." He forced me onto all fours and thrust into me from behind in one go.

"Aaaah! It's so thick…" "It's all the way in. Here, feel it." His hips moved violently.

He thrust deep—so deep it felt like he was pounding against my very womb.

Rei gripped my hips and slammed into me like a wild beast.

"Ah! Ahh! I can't take it anymore!"

"How's Daddy's cock? You won't be satisfied by any ordinary guy after this, right?"

"Y-yes… D-Daddy's… feels the best…!"

He smiled with satisfaction; wrapping his hand around my neck and squeezing gently, he thrust even deeper. "Good girl. I'm going to ravish you until morning. I'll fill you up with my cum and knock you up." A second time, a third…

I reached climax again and again until I lost my voice, and finally, Rei released his hot seed deep inside me.

Epilogue

Morning.

As I lay limp in bed, Rei held me close and gently stroked my hair. "Come back again, Naomi. Next time, I'll take you to my place and turn you into Daddy's fuck toy."