Morning light filtered through Stiles’s sheer curtains. She woke up naked, sheets tangled around her thighs, pussy still puffy and sore from how hard she’d fingered herself last night. The first thing she saw was her phone on the pillow beside her.

She stared at it like it might bite her.

“What the actual fuck did I do?” she whispered, voice hoarse.

She opened the chat. Her own nudes. Her own video of her cunt getting wrecked by her fingers while she moaned “daddy” and begged a stranger to ruin her. Then his reply — that massive, veiny cock jerking hard, the deep voice calling her a “perfect little cumrag” and saying he’d breed her.

Her clit throbbed instantly.

She should delete everything. Block him. Tell Eli. Instead she bit her lip, squeezed her thighs together, and felt a fresh trickle of wetness leak out.

“I’m such a whore,” she moaned softly, rolling onto her stomach and grinding her clit against the mattress. “I don’t even know his name and I came twice watching him jerk off…”

She didn’t block him.

Across the city, Derek woke up with the same phone on his nightstand. Lydia was already in the shower. He opened the chat immediately.

The video of the girl’s fat pussy squirting while she called him daddy was still there. His cock was hard again before he even touched it.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, palming himself through his boxers. “What the hell am I doing? She could be anyone. She could be my son’s age.”

He thought about deleting it.

He saved the video to a hidden folder instead.

He didn’t block her either.

Stiles got ready for college in a tiny white crop top that showed the bottom curve of her tits and a pleated skirt so short her ass cheeks peeked out when she bent over. No bra. Pink thong that was already damp.

Eli was waiting for her outside the lecture hall, looking tall and perfect in a designer sweater, smiling like she was the best thing in his world.

“Morning, princess,” he said, pulling her into a soft kiss.

Stiles kissed him back, giggling when he squeezed her waist. “Missed you, baby.”

They walked hand-in-hand to class, laughing about some stupid party story she told him (leaving out the part where she sent her holes to a stranger). But every time Eli kissed her cheek or called her “my angel,” all she could think about was that thick cock on her screen last night and the way the man had growled “I’m gonna ruin you.”

Her pussy stayed wet the entire day.

Derek sat in a boardroom, tie perfect, expression unreadable, while executives droned on about quarterly numbers. He nodded at the right moments, but his mind was somewhere else.

Those massive pale tits bouncing. That fat pink pussy clenching around her fingers. That perfect ass arched high, dripping. The way she’d moaned “daddy” while she came.

His cock twitched under the table. He had to cross his legs to hide the bulge.

He excused himself twice to the bathroom just to grip his dick through his pants and breathe.

He didn’t block her.

That night, Stiles was in bed in a tiny baby-pink satin nightdress that barely covered her ass. No panties. She’d been tossing and turning for an hour, thighs sticky, nipples hard against the fabric, replaying his video in her head.

Her phone lit up.

Unknown: hey slut

She stared at it, heart hammering, pussy clenching so hard she whimpered.

She typed back instantly.

Stiles: hey daddy 💕

Three dots appeared. Then:

Unknown: can we facetime? i need to see that pretty face while i stroke this cock again

Stiles’s face burned. Her fingers shook. She was so wet it was embarrassing.

Stiles: …yes daddy

The call connected.

The screen filled with him first — Derek Hale, forty-five, devastatingly handsome in a black silk robe, hair still damp from a shower, jaw sharp, eyes dark and hungry. He looked exactly like the kind of powerful man who could ruin her life and make her thank him for it.

Then her camera turned on.

Stiles was lying on her stomach, nightdress riding up, tits spilling out of the low neckline, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

They both froze.

Derek’s eyes widened. “Fuck… you’re beautiful.”

Stiles whispered, “You’re… really hot, daddy.”

A slow, filthy smile spread across his face.

“What’s your name, baby?”

“Stiles… but I like it when you call me slut.”

“I’m Derek. But you’re only ever calling me daddy from now on, understood?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Derek leaned back, robe falling open just enough to show the thick ridge of his cock already tenting his boxers.

“Strip for me, Stiles. Slowly. Show daddy what he’s been jerking off to all day.”

Stiles sat up on her knees, blushing hard, but her hands were already sliding the straps of her nightdress down her shoulders. Her heavy tits bounced free, nipples stiff and dark pink.

“Like this, daddy?” she breathed, cupping them and squeezing, making them bulge obscenely.

“Fuck yes. Pinch those fat nipples. Harder. That’s my good little whore.”

She moaned, twisting her nipples, hips rocking. The nightdress pooled at her waist. She stood on the bed, turned around, bent over, and slowly slid it down over her fat ass, spreading her cheeks just enough to show her dripping pussy and tight little asshole.

Derek groaned low. “Jesus Christ, look at that perfect slut body.”

He shrugged off his robe and pulled his boxers down. His cock sprang out — nine thick inches, veiny, heavy balls hanging low.

Stiles gasped. “Oh my god… it’s even bigger in real life…”

“Turn back around. Face me. Spread your legs and show daddy that greedy cunt.”

She did, sitting back on the bed, knees wide, fingers spreading her plump pussy lips.

“Daddy… I’m so wet for you. I’ve been dripping all day thinking about this cock.”

Derek started stroking slowly. “Good girl. Now dance for me. Show me how much of a filthy little stripper you are.”

Stiles bit her lip, shy for half a second. Then he growled:

“Don’t get shy now, you cock-hungry bitch. Shake that fat ass for daddy.”

She moaned at the words and started moving.

She turned around on all fours, arched deep, and twerked her thick ass in slow, filthy circles, cheeks clapping softly. Then she reached back, spread herself wide, and slid two fingers into her cunt while she bounced.

She started singing in a breathy, slutty voice — a filthy little song she made up on the spot:

“Fat tits bouncing, pussy so wet~

Daddy’s little whore, can’t get enough yet~

Big dick energy, gonna ruin my holes~

Breed me deep, fill me up, make me your cumdump doll~”

She flipped onto her back, legs spread in the air, fingering herself hard while she kept singing:

“Slap my ass red, choke me while I ride~

Call me your slut, make me squirt till I cry~

I’m your secret bitch, your married-man toy~

Cum on my face, daddy, make me your dirty little joy~”

Derek was stroking hard now, fist flying, veins bulging on his forearm.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. Keep singing, you nasty little bitch. Keep playing with that dripping cunt.”

Stiles rubbed her clit fast, tits bouncing wildly, voice cracking with pleasure.

“Daddy’s cock is so big… I want it stretching me… want you to fuck me raw while your wife sleeps… want you to cum inside me—”

“Cum for me, daddy, please,” she begged, fingering herself desperately. “Shoot that thick load for your baby slut… cover that big cock in cum thinking about breeding my fat pussy…”

Derek’s abs tightened. “Fuck— here it comes, baby— take daddy’s cum—”

He came with a deep, guttural moan, thick ropes of cum shooting up onto his chest and abs, some hitting his chin. He kept stroking, milking every drop, panting her name.

Stiles watched, mesmerized, pussy clenching around her fingers, dripping onto her sheets.

She was so close… but she waited, panting, eyes glued to the screen.

Derek looked straight at her, chest heaving, cum glistening on his skin.

“Good girl,” he rasped. “Now you’re going to cum for daddy next time we talk… and you’re going to beg me for my cock while you do it.”

Stiles whimpered, nodding frantically.

“Yes, daddy…”

The call ended.

Both of them lay there, hearts pounding, bodies still trembling.

Neither of them had any idea they’d just crossed the line that would destroy everything.