The Contract

All characters in this work are over the age of eighteen, and entirely fictional.

"It's not that serious." I rolled my eyes at my dad. He really didn't seem to be getting it. "I've never had an issue with derivatives before, it's not going to be as hard as you're making it out to be." It was a rerun of the same conversation we'd had a dozen times since I signed up for a year of all AP classes.

"I don't think you're putting in the work, Jenny, you can't go through life like this!" He groused, slapping his hand on the steering wheel. He'd been picking me up more frequently recently, something about 'spending more time with me', which I assume is code for getting all the way up my ass about being a 'slacker' (in his opinion).

In truth, I'd just never had any problem at school. Almost everything came naturally to me. It's not that I'm some kind of savant, or that I'm the smartest person in the entire world, it's just that I'm good at working in the structured environment of high school. If I'm offered a four-answer multiple choice question, I can be sure that at least one of the answers is right, one of them is close, but wrong, and two are obviously incorrect. That pattern holds true regardless of where you are, so the whole thing becomes a game of sussing out which answer is right, and which answer is almost right. My dad, however, doesn't really see it like that.

"Jenny, in college, you're not going to have the luxury of every test being multiple choice, and you're not going to have the privilege of every teacher being your buddy." I narrowed my eyes at this last bit- I was friendly with my teachers, sure, but their praise during last year's parent-teacher conferences kept being weaponized back towards me.

"I don't need special treatment to get a perfect GPA, here or in college." I rolled my eyes again. He seemed incapable of understanding. "Just because I don't have to study for four hours a night, it doesn't mean I'm about to fail AP Calc. I'm not going to burn out at the finish line, dad." We rolled up to the driveway, classic suburbia, classic beige house. I unclipped my seatbelt and grabbed my bookbag, intent on hopping out before we even stopped. Dad's hand found my wrist to stop me- looking up, I found his eyes pleading, surprisingly tender.

"Please, Jenny, for me, just put in a little bit of effort." He paused, as if sensing my lack of interest in acquiescence. "It's what your mom would've wanted." He sounded sad, but with a hard undertone, as though he was chewing on the words. I grimaced at him.

"Mom wouldn't want me to work just to make you feel better about the future, she'd want me to be successful." I pointed at my bag. "The A-pluses in here tell me I'm being successful, so don't worry about it!" He was probably going to say something else, but instead I twisted from his hand. Popping the door of his old Jeep open and hopping down, I practically skipped up the driveway to the front door.

He wouldn't let it go, but I wasn't interested in discussing it further. He could hold my attention hostage in the car, but as soon as I got back to my room, I was home free, literally and figuratively.

I flipped the door closed behind me, kicking my flats off and shimmying out of my jeans, dropping them onto the pink bedspread I hadn't bothered to update in five years. It's not that I was averse to challenge, I just liked to pick my battles, and my current battle was with keeping my belly flat before college. I looked in the mirror, admiring my abs, the roundness of my shoulders, the dirty blonde hair spilling to touch the tops of said shoulders. My A-Cup breasts annoyed me, but the tightness of my body made up for them. I grabbed my joggers from the top drawer of my dresser, and snatched up my running shoes. This was a challenge I actually cared about, running was much more engaging than Calculus, and it got my blood pumping a lot more than English Literature.

I tiptoed out through the living room, dad was on the phone and gave me a stern nod. Even if we couldn't see eye-to-eye on my academic rigor, at least he wasn't going to make my home life a living hell. I relaxed a little bit, and slipped out the front door.

I caught the barest hint of his words as it swung closed behind me: "language" and then "airtight". Something work-related no doubt.

I ignored it as irrelevant. My focus for the day was on making sure I didn't let my body break down around me. I stretched for a bare minute, then started down the block.

It was sickening to watch my peers let themselves fall apart around me. They could keep themselves fit if they only tried, but so many of them had pronounced belly fat before even graduating high school.

I locked in and began to sprint, away from home, towards my future. Squinting against the sun, I gagged at the irony, both looked bright.

In the coming days, I saw a marked change in my relationship with my father. I didn't bother doing anything differently, and continued to do well in my studies regardless of how much time I spent hard at work, grinding over my textbooks. He, on the other hand, seemed much more relaxed and accepting of my outcome-oriented life philosophy. I attributed it to my sterling debate performance and convincing oration across our rides home from school.

He kept picking me up, but we talked about other things, hobbies, sports, that kind of stuff. I felt confident that I'd broken through his objections, and to be honest, felt a little bit full of myself. My friends would continue to complain about their parents not understanding them, while I got to run roughshod over my dad's objections. I was wearing the pants in our house, that's for sure!

About a week after my last conversation with dad, I was leaving AP Bio, chatting with friends, confident in my scholastic abilities, when my bliss was sharply interrupted by the crackle of our ancient intercom system.

"Jenny Jones, to the principal's office, Jenny Jones, to the principal's office." I groaned as everyone around me started to jeer and make jokes.

"Jenny, your reign of terror has finally come to an end." Quipped my friend, Stacy. I responded with a punch to the elbow, grimacing. I didn't usually get caught in my rule breaking (limited and surreptitious as it was), and couldn't think of what I'd possibly done to deserve punishment. Stacy tagged along as we walked down the long hallway, echoing with laughter and the sound of footsteps, smelling of equal parts body odor and Axe body spray.

"No more graffiti on the tennis court." Joked some random jock passing me in the hall. I flipped him off, but Stacy looked at me anxiously.

"That wasn't you, was it?" She asked in a hushed whisper. Gullible as the day she was born.

"Not unless I was sleepwalking again." I mimed staggering back and forth with eyes closed, imaginary paint cans in hand, drawing penises and expletives on the wall as we continued towards the office. Stacy relaxed, and I felt myself doing so too. I hadn't done anything wrong, maybe it was an award for being a straight-A student? Stacy drifted away as we approached the end of the hallway, giving me a small smile as I pushed the door open.

The gray-haired front administration lady (I never bothered to learn her name in all four years) was predictably dour and snippy, a lifetime of dealing with truants and miscreants had clearly worn her nerves sharp. She frowned at me as I entered the reception area, as though I was already convicted and found guilty of whatever it was that I was accused. Wordlessly, she pointed back into the administrative complex, towards the principal's private office.

I held my breath as I entered, hoping for the best, preparing for the worst.

I groaned, slinking down as I spotted my father, already seated in one of two chairs on my side of the principal's desk. Principal Warton sat on the other, grey hair framing his wrinkled visage, his fingers tented contemplatively, an ominous stack of paper with associated fancy black pen sitting atop the dark wood of his desk.

"Ms. Jones, please sit down." The principal's tone always struck me as cold, judgemental for sure, if not actively hostile. I sat, tentatively looking over at my father, who returned my gaze without comment.

For a heartbeat, the three of us were silent, letting the anticipation roost in the pit of my stomach.

"Ms. Jones, first of all, you're not in trouble." Warton stated, allowing me to breathe a silent sigh of relief. My dad grinned, he'd been intentionally winding me up. I withheld the urge to smack him. "In fact, you have an opportunity in front of you, an opportunity that I believe based on your past academic achievement, of which you could take full advantage." His finger stabbed down, and he pushed the papers towards me.

I reached over, flipping their orientation towards me, reading the headline.

The ISD 448 Program for High-Achieving Female Scholars

It stuck out at me, in black and white. I started to read the top few lines, but the legalese was thick. I bet it would've been difficult to understand for even seasoned legal professionals considering my intellect. I looked over at my father, then to Warton.

"Do you guys have a TLDR?" I asked, clarifying as a brief moment of confusion flashed across the principal's visage. "I mean, a summary- it's just a little dense..." Warton nodded, and sat back in his big leather chair.

"Ms. Jones, every few years, we're privileged to teach an excellent female student, a generational talent in academia who we believe will be a boon to the entire community, and whom we want to ensure is provided with every opportunity." He paused. "Regardless of financial situation." I glanced over at my father, his face was expressionless, but I almost giggled. A sick burn from the older man.

"In short, it's a contract for a- I suppose you could describe it as a wager- One five hour, independently proctored, multidisciplinary exam." He pointed up to a poster on the wall, describing some bullshit 'wheel of achievement' our curriculum supposedly followed. His finger followed the wheel's different quadrants as he listed them off. "Mathematics, English Language, Life Sciences, Technical Sciences, Entrepreneurship, and Social Studies." I rolled my eyes, the definitions were painfully trite. I almost yawned listening to his droning voice.

"Exemplary success in all six of these subjects will indicate a higher level of cognition, and indicate your preparedness for the next level of education." I bit my lip to keep myself from egging him on, his voice was interminable. "In short, a score above ninety-percent in this exam will allow you to immediately graduate from high school with A's in all classes, and provide you a full ride scholarship, housing and living stipend for any four, six, or eight-year program in the country." His statement hung in the room for a moment, shocking and heavy.

I stared at the contract, gears working in my mind. This could be Harvard, this could be Yale, Princeton, anywhere I wanted to go, I could go, for as long or short as I wanted, and I wouldn't even need to keep focusing on schoolwork until graduation in May.

"Where do I sign?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. I reached for the pen, but my father's hand reached over to forestall me.

"Let him finish, there's also a penalty, that's what makes it a wager." His voice was soft, warning. I held the pen in my hand, but looked up at Warton.

"I don't think I'm going to fail, but go ahead." My mind was racing with excitement, already picturing myself in an MIT-branded leather jacket (assuming they exist).

"Your father is right to caution you." The principal cleared his throat. "The penalty is rather severe-" He paused again, as if contemplating how to phrase his words, before carefully picking out each of them.

"The founders of this program believed that if a scholar fails their attempt, they are of no use to society for their brain." He made a noncommittal gesture, as if trying to soften a blow. "Failed scholars will forfeit their bodily autonomy for life, be immediately kicked out of the school, and will be required to-" He gave a small sigh. "Be required to- to inbreed with their closest immediate family member." I blinked, astounded by what I'd just heard.

"What kind of sense does that make?" I groused, finally understanding my father's presence. "It's not like a B means I'm worthless, just because it isn't an A, and anyway it's not like he'll follow through with it-" Warton raised his hand to stop my babbling.

"He is required to do so, and the independent monitoring committee will see to it that he does- the funding which would've gone to education is diverted to your living costs and the raising of the theoretical children." Warton reached across the desk to tap on the document. "You're both required to sign, and will abide by the terms of the contract. It's rather unconventional, but the founders were clear in their intent." I glanced over at my dad, his face purposefully blank as Warton sighed again, deeper this time. "This contract has already been challenged to the state supreme court, and found to be airtight. Once you sign, there's no going back." My leg jittered, shuddering with a mix of concern and anticipation. Warton gave a small, apologetic smile towards my father, who still wasn't looking in my direction.

"Are- are you okay with this?" I asked him, slightly skeeved out by the thought of my father sexually. I imagined my belly, swelling beyond my control, gaining the weight I hated, with no ability to work it off because of the baby growing inside me.

"I'm not the one taking the risk." He finally met my gaze, stating almost matter-of-factly, his tone measured and slow. "You'll need to study hard for this, no phoning this one in." I bristled at his words, and uncapped the pen, pushing his hand away as he sought to stop my movement. This was just another facet of our disagreement, another way for him to try and pressure me.

I paused, pen nib a centimeter above the first signature page. This was a permanent contract. This would determine the course of my life from here on out. I again pictured my flat abs replaced with a baby bump, and shivered.

Then I imagined myself at Stanford, at Harvard, at Penn or NYU. Free from my father's overbearing nature, emancipated by virtue of my intellect.

Both were equally possible for anyone else, both were a potential for the future.

But I'm special. I'm the most intelligent person to ever attend this school. I can do everything I want without studying, and I was going to knock this test out of the park.

Jenny Jones. I signed.

Warton reached over to flip the page.

JJ. I initialed.

Then signed.

Then initialed five more times.

I handed the pen to my father, his face still neutral, but I thought I could see the corner of his mouth rise. Pride in his little girl? Even though we were in conflict, he couldn't help but be proud.

Warton received the signed contract back from my dad, his face dour.

"Ms. Jones, you have one week from this meeting to prepare yourself. Your examination will take place in classroom B305, good luck." He reached across to offer his hand. I was still buzzing, but shook it. I grinned over at him.

"Don't worry, I always knew I was going to Harvard, I just didn't expect you guys to pay for it!" He didn't return my smile, instead pursing his lips. He nodded to my father, who returned the gesture.

"Allen, good to see you again." My dad said. I almost didn't hear him, my brain full of noise, full of excitement. I rushed out of the office, leaving my father in the dust.

I needed to tell someone, I needed to tell everyone!

I was going to get a hundred percent, to be the best the program had ever seen. While my peers would still be trying to graduate, I would be free.

I would be the best.

Suffice to say, I wasn't circumspect about discussing my new opportunity. The words of the principal indicated that the school had seen the potential in my scholastic ability, which was perhaps giving me a little bit of a big head. I'm humble enough to admit that, which I think is commendable.

I was excused from classes for the next week to 'study', truthfully, that probably wasn't in the cards for me. My natural talent would be enough to carry me through. On the ride home, I texted Stacy to come over after school so I could tell her some big news, and just sat there, buzzing, practically humming with excitement and energy.

I glanced over at my dad, he was gripping the steering wheel tightly, his salt and pepper hair framing his face, his eyes fixed forward.

"So are you going to say it?" I asked, still riding high off of the meeting we'd just attended. He glanced over for the briefest of moments, a slight note of confusion in his eyes.

"Say what?" He asked.

"You know, say that you were wrong?" I gave him a smirk, confident that this opportunity validated me. His grip on the wheel tightened slightly, and he took a deep breath before responding.

"Jenny, don't count your chickens before they hatch, you need to-" I grinned, cutting him off with a punch to the shoulder.

"Come on, there's a legal document which says I'm the best student at the school!" I was elated, the 'study every night' methodology had well and truly been vanquished.

"That's not what that means, you still have to take the test, and it's going to be brutal." Dad narrowed his eyes, still focused on the road.

"It's going to be easy, just like every other test." I bragged, stretching in the passenger seat, languidly, as if experiencing a full-body massage.

I was startled when my father slapped his hand on the dashboard.

"That settles it!" His voice was louder than it had been, as if seeking to drown out any disagreement before I'd even voiced it. "Jenny, you give it your best shot, but I'm not going to bail you out if you fail. Study, don't study, who cares!" He swung into the driveway and yanked the key from the ignition, burning with passion and anger. "Best of luck!" His words were sarcastic, biting, as he slapped the door open and practically jumped from the car, eager to be away from me.

"When I get a perfect score, you'll have to eat crow!" I yelled after him, mirth still bubbling in my stomach.

He just didn't get me. Will Smith was right, parents just don't understand.

"Wow, so you're like, smart-smart?" Stacy was flopped on my bed, reading the copy of the contract the school had sent back with me. I was seated in my desk chair, painting my toenails with practiced ease.

"I mean, you know, that's not new information..." I stuck my tongue out at her, fanning the polish dry.

"Oh ha-ha, very funny." Stacy pouted. She had a rack that I always envied, D-cup at least, if not double, but she wasn't on my level academically. "Do you know what all this means?" She shook the pages of the contract meaningfully in my direction. "This -'forfeits bodily autonomy to her immediate male family member in perpetuity'- sounds, like, scary, right?" She wrinkled her eyebrows in concern, or perhaps in concentration to read such dense language.

"I mean, it's not like it's actually going to matter." I shrugged, re-dipping the brush into my favorite red polish. "I'm not going to fail, and even if I did, it's not like my dad would actually do anything. I've got him totally whipped since my mom died." I paused, awkward for a moment, a bit of an overshare. Stacy pushed past it.

"Okay, but like, it seems like it's like really specific -'to inbreed as frequently as medically possible for the remainder of her fertile window'- that's fucked up, right? Why would they even make a program like this?" She shuffled through the pages, looking at each clause I'd initialed.

"Stacy, I'm the smartest student in school." I declared, frank and confident, inserting the foam separator between my toes to keep them spread. "It's not going to be a problem, all that stuff is just there to scare dumb girls who have been faking their way through classes." I paused, cognizant of my audience. "No offense." A bit of a low jab, she was a C-student at best, and had been skating at a B by virtue of her tits. Stacy, closed the contract, pouting.

"Hey, that's really mean!" Her brown hair tumbled around her head, contrasting against the pink of my pillow and bedspread. "I'm just worried about you, you don't have to be a jerk about it!" Her big green eyes welled with tears, and I immediately regretted my words. I hobbled over to her, hampered by my lack of toe mobility.

"Hey, hey listen Stacy." I pulled her face to my chest, feeling wetness. "I'm sorry." I stroked the back of her head tenderly. She was in most ways my inferior, as our exam scores could attest, but she was still my best friend. "You're not dumb, Stacy." A little white lie, she was very dumb by comparison, and also without comparison.

"I-I just d-don't want you to get hurt!" Her voice quavered, muffled through my shirt. I grinned, still out of her sight, she was so naive.

"Don't worry Stacy, nothing bad is gonna happen, and you can come visit me in Boston!" I pulled her close, cradling her head. She was so emotional, no wonder she'd never gotten to my level of academia. I couldn't even imagine her getting this opportunity -she was obviously projecting her own skill level onto me- and if I had her brain, I would've been hesitant to sign the contract too.

"I-is Boston nice?" Stacy extracted herself from my shirt, her eyes red, the contract sliding off the bed onto the floor.

"Well Harvard is there, and they have Boston Cream Pies, so I think it's going to be nice!" I reached out, gently caressing her cheek, causing her to crack a small smile. She sniffled.

"That sounds nice, I guess I can come visit you for them..." I smiled at her.

"Let's go raid the fridge, I don't think dad has any pies for us, but I think there's some leftover chicken!" Stacy grinned and hugged me. She was a simple creature.

I gently caressed the back of her head- there's something to be said for simple creatures, and the comfort they bring. I'd never thought of her like that, but I liked the feeling of her closeness, the heat of her body pressed against mine. I blushed as we broke away, and I think I saw a little color in her cheeks too. I brushed a tasset of hair behind my ear, and we both abashedly headed for the kitchen.

I had to set my sights forward, nothing could get in the way of my achievement. I was a little sad that I'd have to leave her behind to pursue my new life, but nevertheless I was certain in my mission.

Success, at any cost.

Hours passed, then days. I didn't worry, I was just confident in my own abilities. I hung out with Stacy (she even skipped a few days of class to keep me company, like friends do), I did my workouts, I focused on my own wellbeing, not some test I was certain to ace. My father was giving me a cold shoulder, pointedly not telling me to study. He wanted me to succeed or fail on my own merits, that much was clear. That's what was going to make it so much sweeter to succeed.

Days turned into a week, and it was only the day-of that I started to feel some nerves. It wasn't unusual for me to feel a little bit uncertain ahead of a big test, but this was different. I cracked open my textbooks two hours before I was scheduled to get to my exam room, speed-reading a few chapters. It was all the studying I was going to do.

A gentle knock at the door, my dad had come to collect me. I sighed.

"Ready to go? Feeling good?" His voice was quiet.

"As ready as I'll ever be!" I tried to put a little energy into my voice, a little banter and excitement. I'm not sure I succeeded.

"Well, I'm sure you're going to get it, Jen." He paused for a heartbeat. "Your mom would be proud." His voice shook with feeling. I stood up and walked to him, pulling him into a soft embrace.

"Thanks dad, I know she'd be proud of you too." I glanced up at him, his eyes were warm and dark in the dim light of the morning. "I've got this, I promise."

He made a small sound, almost a muttered word, but it choked in his throat. I softly smiled up at him, and broke our embrace.

I passed him out the door, towards the car, and my future.

Dad accompanied me all the way to B305, giving me one more hug before I entered. The room was empty except for a pair of desks, one large, one small. Behind the larger one was a woman I didn't recognize, dressed in a blazer and button-down. I felt underdressed by comparison, black leggings and a big chunky sweatshirt, my short hair back in a messy bun, a normal outfit for a normal school day, but perhaps less than what the circumstances justified. She rose to her feet, gracing me with a smile.

"You must be Jenny!" She reached out to shake my hand, which I accepted gracefully. "Your Scantron is on your desk, and we've provided a calculator and pencil." She practically beamed at me.

I gave her a sick smile, nerves in my throat preventing me from returning any pleasantries.

"I remember that feeling." She gave me a wink. "I'm Heidi, I took this thing a decade ago, it was a real bear, but the reward is worth it!" She motioned for me to extend my arms. "A quick pat down and we can begin, I'm sure you're going to do great!" I extended my arms, feeling Heidi's hands travel up and down my body like I was at the airport. She removed my phone from my pocket, holding the power button to turn it off, and gesturing me towards the desk.

I walked towards it, feeling sick. Had I really wasted a full week before this on random bullshit? What if I failed?

"Five hours, three hundred questions, about a question a minute, you've got this!" Heidi's words rang in my ears.

She was right.

This was going to be easy.

Just one question at a time.

Sixty seconds per question.

Living this exam sixty seconds at a time.

I sat, the plastic of the deck chair cold on my butt.

Heidi placed the exam on my desk, a thick sheaf of paper, a terrifying obelisk of wood pulp and ink.

"Don't worry, just one question at a time, you've got this!" I looked up to meet her gaze. Her eyes were kind and gentle. I couldn't bring myself to respond, but I gave her a weak smile.

This was it.

Heidi returned to the proctor desk, and sat. I focused on the pages in front of me.

I turned to the first exam question page.

Derivatives.

I smiled. Just like I'd told my dad, I'd never had a problem with derivatives before.

I was off.

Three hundred minutes (and three hundred questions) later, I closed the exam booklet with a sigh. Heidi stood, beaming, and whisked the Scantron off my desk.

"I'm sure you did great!" She handed my phone back to me.

"When- when will I know?" I stammered, my mouth dry from the returning consternation I'd attempted to banish during the exam (and from taking a five hour exam without water breaks). I felt confident about most of my answers, but replaying questions back in my mind, I couldn't help but overthink my choices.

"Well, I'll take this down to the principal, he'll check it against the answer key, and then we'll re-verify the Scantron with the computer." She checked her watch. "Call it like, a couple of hours, maybe three?" She returned her gaze to my face. "Go home, get something to eat, we'll call you when we know for sure!" It wasn't what I'd wanted to think about right now. I exited the room, numbly, and sank down in the hallway, around the corner to avoid Heidi. For a few minutes, I sought to collect myself. I thought back across every single question, one at a time. I definitely got to the 90% mark, right? Definitely. I banished the potential for anything else from my brain. I had done it, surely I had done it. I was the only girl selected for this program, which meant I deserved to be there. I took a deep breath, trying to banish the fog in my brain. It had been a long test, but I'd done it, I'd completed it, and there was nothing left to do but wait.

I met my father at the entrance to the parking lot, he embraced me, a twinkle in his eyes.

"How'd you do, kiddo?" He asked. I took a deep breath.

"We'll know in a few hours, they're going to call me." He draped an arm around me protectively, and led me back to the car.

The drive home was a blur. I remember texting Stacy, but don't recall what I said. I remember watching trees and road signs blur past. I remember rolling into our driveway, then standing in the kitchen, holding a glass of water. Then laying back on the couch, trying not to throw up.

Then I remember snapping back to reality at the buzzing of dad's phone.

"Grab it!" I exclaimed, needlessly, he was already grabbing, snapping the phone to his ear, holding up a finger to my grasping hands.

"Yes? Oh, hi Allen." He said. For a heartbeat he paused, Principal Warton clearly speaking into his ear. "Got it." Unreadable, he handed the phone over to me. "It's for you." I gazed at the proffered smartphone like it was a snake seeking to bite me, I took a deep breath, and held it to my ear.

"Ms. Jones." Warton's voice was soft, subdued in my ear.

"Yes?" I breathed my response.

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry to report that you did not achieve a passing grade of ninety percent. Your score was only twelve percent, well short of your target." He paused, as if expecting an exclamation, but I felt like I'd just been punched in the gut. He continued. "Naturally, your expulsion is effective immediately, and the additional paperwork has already been processed to transfer your bodily autonomy." He paused for another second, before finishing, lamely. "Have a good day."

I stared at the phone in my hand, feeling sick, empty. My father's hand gently reached out, taking it from me.

"So, that didn't quite turn out the way you wanted, huh?" His voice was soft, but clearly he wasn't sad about the outcome, he sounded almost self-satisfied, vindicated, without a doubt. I looked up at him, his usually-impassive mouth twitching up at the corners. I could feel the room spinning, and the bottom fell out of my stomach.

"Dad, you're not actually going to-" I took a step back, cutting myself off, staring into his eyes. "They must've made a mistake, I couldn't have scored that low!" I took another. "Listen, it's against the law, you can't do anything to me!" I could feel the pitch of my voice rising. My dad's grin widened, and he took a step towards me.

"I don't think you understand, there is no 'you' anymore. Contractually, you're not a person with rights, you're a thing, an object I can do anything with as my property." I blanched, thinking back to the copy of the contract lying on the floor of my room, among the other clutter I'd allowed to collect there.

"Hold on, you can't-" I began, but he spoke over me, loudly, not quite yelling but not too far from it.

"There's nothing I can't do anymore, with regards to you, it's whatever I want, whenever I want." I felt tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I straightened up, and opened my mouth to speak.

But the words wouldn't come.

My father reached out, taking me by the shoulders and shaking me, as if trying to bring me back to reality. My bun shook free, spilling my dirty blonde hair loose. I could feel the sting of shame on my face, a rosacea of pure disbelief and upset.

"How about this: You don't get to speak unless I say." He was steering me back toward my room. "You fucked up. You're mine now. And I'm going to fulfill the terms of our contract." I dug in my heels, trying to slow down my momentum, but he merely grabbed me, sweeping me off my feet and picking me up, bundling me into his strong arms. I was still gathering my senses from where they'd been scattered when he dropped me onto my bed.

"God, you look just like your mom." His voice was gleeful as I felt his hands pulling at my crotch, his muscles straining as he hooked his fingertips into the stretchy material. I heard a ripping sound, and looked down in shock. He'd torn my leggings, revealing the thong I'd worn to prevent a panty line beneath.

"Mmm, just like you knew this was going to happen, did you dress up for me?" At his taunt, I finally caught my breath, my shock dissipating enough to allow me to spring into action. I snapped my legs closed, kicking his hands away and holding up one of my own to forestall him. I felt the blush hot in my face, the feeling of being objectified by the father, the feeling of air on my pussy after having had my clothes literally torn off, acutely humiliating.

"Dad! Don't do this, think about this!" I begged, my voice catching, tears starting to drip from the corners of my eyes. This was the same man who had raised me, he'd been there for all my life events after mom died, but now he was trying to fuck me?! It didn't make sense!

"You're not understanding, Jenny!" His hands were gentle, but insistent, pulling my legs open, slowly and inexorably.

That's when I kicked him. Hard, in the chest. Like a horse to a wayward farmhand.

Then his hands were around my throat. I felt him bearing down, tighter and tighter, cutting off my windpipe, and the flow of oxygenated blood to my brain. I stopped struggling immediately, my vision narrowing to points as I listened to him.

"Your life is over. It's done. You didn't study, you thought you were hot shit, but you're not." I struggled weakly, grasping at his hands, seeking to remove them unsuccessfully. "I'm going to give you what you need, what you deserve, and you're not going to try and stop me, Jenny." His statement was almost matter-of-fact, and it shocked me to my core. "Nod if you understand and I'll let you breathe." He weedled. I resisted for a fraction of a second before nodding as best I could, frantic for oxygen.

He released me, and I gasped in a lungful of air. My ears popped as my blood flow was restored, stars dancing in my eyes as I lay on my pink bedspread in my bedroom. I'd never really been choked before, and to be perfectly frank, I found it extremely arousing. A physical intimacy unlike any I'd felt before, my nerves rushing with electricity. I felt dad spread my legs again, the air still cold on my newly exposed bikini area.

"You keep it waxed, just like your mom, I like that. You're going to keep doing that for me." I heard his belt jingle as he slid his pants and underwear down his thighs to the floor. I looked down, my vision still refocusing, but could clearly see his erection. It was the largest I'd ever seen, six or seven inches and heavily veined, his cockhead almost purple with blood, a battering ram to breach my slit.

I gasped again, shocked at the feelings coursing through me- fear, rage, disappointment, to be sure, but also excitement? There was a certain amount of relief. Relief from not having to worry anymore, from not having to be the best, from just being able to be owned. Dad grabbed me by the ankles, pulling me towards him, placing me on the edge of the mattress and pushing my legs back to my shoulders. My father's weight was practically folding me in half, leaving his manhood aligned directly with my vagina, covered only by my thong.

I'd never seen this side of my father before, he'd always been a sexless object in my life, a point of no contention or strong emotion. Now he was animated, he was practically chatty, enjoying the feeling of dominating his daughter. Despite myself, I felt my resistance waning before he'd even started to fuck me, feelings of submission burning in my chest. Being the best meant being alone, not having any peers, not having anyone to talk down to you.

But now he was talking down to me, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't making me wet to be treated like an object. There was something perverse, yet sensual about the way he looked at me, like a succulent morsel. I felt my defenses wilt even further.

"Mmm, you're going to be even better than your mom, I can tell." He was excited, and I felt a thrill roll through my body, being thrown around was awakening me, teasing the roiling tides of my stomach into arousal, rather than fear. "Your pancake belly is going to swell with my baby!" He grinned down at me, rubbing his cock briefly against the thin triangle of fabric protecting my vagina. I gasped, he was hot even through the panties, and a patch of wetness grew steadily as my pussy was activated by his manliness. He reached down, pulling the thong away. The strings cutting into my hips and ass for a moment of pain, causing me to hiss. They held for a moment, before snapping with his strength, revealing my pussy to the air (and to his manhood).

"Daddy-" I started, but he pushed my legs back again, keeping me pinned in the position he wanted.

"I was hoping you'd be this clean and tight." He grinned at me, rubbing his long, thick penis against my entrance. I could feel my wetness transferring to his hot, bulbous cockhead, my body responding despite my resistance, taking the tiny corner of arousal in my brain and expanding it, cutting through the anger still boiling within. "I'm going to fuck your pussy, don't you have anything to say? Go ahead Jenny." He rubbed himself up and down my vaginal channel, continuing to lubricate himself with my juices. I felt the warmth of his precum mixing with my fluids, and moaned, low and heavy.

"Daddy, please-" I started, before realizing I didn't know what I was begging for. A starburst of head and excitement had shot through me when he first touched my pussy, a far cry to the boys I'd messed around with before. I clutched at his hand holding my legs back, before erring on the side of caution just one more time, my perfect midriff still salvageable if I could just resist the heat of my vagina, if I could just bend my father back to my will. "We d-don't have to do this!" My voice was high and quavering, my recent strangulation impacting my ability to speak. My own words didn't feel particularly convincing, and caught in my throat.

"Ohh yes, babygirl, we do, and I think you know it." He grunted, aligning his cock with my softness. "I've been telling you how best to live your life this whole time. I've known what's best for you since the start, but you've never listened!" I felt the pressure against the shaved lips of my labia increase, and the outer folds gave way to the very tip of his penis. "Your body knows what you're thinking- AH!" We gasped in unison, mine a much higher-pitch, as he pushed inside, finally feeling my heat and wetness.

"Daddy!" This wasn't the word of reproach I'd meant it to be, and I felt my muscles flexing in revulsion and pleasure in unequal measure as he slowly parted my vaginal lips around his dick, the pressure coming in waves as he worked his way ever so slowly inside.

"Such a nice, tight little hole, and it's all mine- forever!" He teased, leaning in to kiss me, an action I instinctively reciprocated. His saliva was hot, sweet and tantalizing, his tongue teasing me as much as his words.

My father's baby-maker throbbed as he pressed it into me, his steady pressure causing it to slowly penetrate my body. He licked his lips in anticipation, pulling back for another moment, then pushing forward, causing his cockhead to pop through my defenses. I cried out in shock as I felt it enter the daughter he'd made in one fell push.

"Yes, oh fuck yes Jenny!" He hissed as he began to work himself in and out of me, lubricating himself with my juices. I watched in horror and ecstasy, open-mouthed as the penis now eagerly pushed into my pussy, the slick sounds of lovemaking filling my bedroom.

Dad reached down, tearing my leggings further up, then moving on to pulling my sweatshirt up to reveal my sports bra. He also pulled it up, letting my A-cups drop free. Despite myself, I helped him, moving it up to give him a better view. My eyes were locked to the bump beneath my abs, the outline of his penis inside me, moving in and out, slowly getting deeper, further up my tight belly. It was like a worm or slug moving beneath my skin, and I, a fascinated biologist, could only watch as it moved closer to eruption.

"God, you're so much tighter than your mom ever was." Dad sighed as he pushed back inside me, giving me a thrill of pleasure at his praise. The next moment: I started with surprise as he bottomed out against my cervix, his cockhead nestling against the ring deep inside me, fully immersed into my channel. He paused there, both of us enjoying the outline of his manhood against my belly, and he the feeling of my clenching muscles around his tool.

"Y-yes!" I moaned, painfully aware of his penis dripping precum into my fertile vaginal slit, but unable to stop myself from voicing my excitement.

"You're going to learn to love being pregnant sweetie, your mom loved my baby swelling her womb!" Dad grunted, and began to fuck me in earnest. I could feel his thick cock stretching me, my organs being pushed out of the way as he fucked me. The room stank with the smell of sex, the sticky sounds of rough fucking an apostasy to my bright pink bedspread.

But I could feel myself responding in earnest now- not just because of the pleasure I was experiencing, nothing as instinctive as that. Rather, I could feel the words of the contract (any my father) worming their way into my brain. I had lost, I had failed, I was nothing but a breeding toy for my father, legally. Whoever those independent observers were, if I wasn't bred, they were going to take it out on both of us.

There was really only one thing to do.

And the feelings flooding my body weren't bad either.

"Oh yes baby, I knew you were holding out on me." Dad grunted, and I felt his cock throb in excitement as my legs wrapped around him. I began to work my vaginal muscles, flexing my walls around his thick slab of meat rubbing in and out of me, bare to my insides.

In a last, fleeting moment of petulant childishness I regretted signing the contract. I could've had everything, but the risk had been too immense, and now I was a fucktoy for my father's desires. I banished the concept from my mind.

I wasn't a fucktoy. I was going to be his wife, his mistress, his daughter, his surrogate, all in one. I was going to be the queen bee of his kingdom for the rest of my fertility. I couldn't be what I'd thought I wanted before signing the contract, but I could be better. I could be without equal in the sphere of inbreeding with my father.

I reached out, grasping his hands, holding them against mine and pulling him forward. I used the lever of his bodyweight to hold my legs up, but allowed him a much deeper penetration into my tight slit. I began to moan with him, in unison now as his bareback penis pumped in and out in a tapestry of excess. I was dripping my fluid down his balls, my every nerve focused on the pleasure of his cockhead dragging against my fibrous insides as he pushed in and pulled out.

I was in it now, holding him in my arms, and the warm embrace of my insides. No going back.

I felt my father's penis swell inside me as he grunted, his rhythmic thrusts interrupted by more needy, urgent pumping. He was getting close. My velvet glove was doing its job, silky and wet, coaxing him to orgasm.

"Here it comes, oh FUCK!" He grunted. I gasped, not even needing his warning. I could actually feel it coming, fluid running down the length of his cock, the heat traveling rapidly up into me. He thrusted, holding deep inside, shuddering as his cockhead pressed against my cervix. For a moment, he resisted, perhaps a last vestige of fatherly instinct? Then he fired his first unprotected load into my belly. It was so hot, so sticky, a stream of DNA, a hundred million sperm rocketing into my fallopian tubes, seeking my vulnerable egg.

"Get. Fucking. Pregnant!" He grunted, suddenly thrusting with each word, the sound of his balls slapping my shapely rear a harsh clapping. I moaned in pleasure, the warmth already flooding me. He spurted rope after rope of virile cum through my cervical opening, his swimmers racing into my waiting womb.

I mentally counted back to my last period.

I was at my most fertile.

Dad grinned down at me, still throbbing inside my tight hole. He leaned in, kissing me on the mouth, his tongue flickering against mine before whispering in my ear.

"Do you understand now?" I nodded up at him, smiling, my makeup had run at some point from my eyes watering, but I was myself now, perhaps more myself than I'd ever been.

"Yes daddy. I'm yours." I felt the words drip from my mouth, like honey into tea. It was as if a light had flicked off in my brain- or perhaps I was still in shock, but I couldn't imagine being anywhere else than there with his penis gently throbbing its last vestiges of genetic material inside me.

"You are." Dad grinned down at me, pulling off his shirt, leaving him fully nude.

"Can we go again, daddy?" I asked, staring up at him with excitement. He pulled back, his penis squelching as it left me. I whimpered as I felt the warmth of his manhood retreating. Big, thick, sticky droplets of seed dripped out of me, landing on my copy of the contract on the floor.

"We're going to, again and again." He allowed my legs to drop, leaning back in to kiss me.

I felt a warmth fill my mind as well as my body. Maybe it was just the feeling of being used, of being treated as an object by a man who had always been whipped by me, or perhaps my submissive streak asserting itself fully in my personality, but I couldn't imagine running.

I couldn't even picture trying to escape from my situation, legally questionable as that possibility was. In a few hours flat, my life had been turned upside down, and I was enjoying the prospect of seeing what future it held.

My father's cum was dribbling from my vagina, fat globs sticking to the folds of my flower, but I knew it was already too late to matter. If he hadn't already bred me, he was about to as soon as his erection returned. I again pictured my belly swollen with a baby bump, but this time the prospect was arousing, rather than concerning.

"Aren't you- aren't you going to try something?" My father's voice was curious, his face fascinated as he watched me lie in the afterglow of our first fuck. I smiled up at him.

"I don't need to." I reached down, peeling the refuse of my leggings off my ass, leaving me bottomless. "Thanks to the contract- thanks to you, I finally have a purpose." He bit his lip, running a hand down my thigh.

"Who knew I raised such a sub?" I felt his finger reach my clitoris, and I gasped at the feeling, my legs again pulling back, giving him easy, open access to my slit. "One fuck and your whole stuck-up bitch persona evaporates." I felt anger flare in my chest at his words.

"Hey-!" I began, but the flame was swiftly doused as he began to slowly move his finger in a tiny circle, rubbing against my sensitive button.

"What was that?" He paused, staring pointedly down at me. I chewed on my cheek to stop from lashing out, feeling his finger resting, but not moving, against my clit.

"Please daddy." I whimpered, eliciting a tiny clockwise swish of his finger.

"Tell me you're a submissive. Tell me you were a stuck up bitch who deserved to fail." He paused again, his finger coated in my juices and his, hot and sticky with the outcome of our lovemaking. "And tell me you're sorry. Tell me I was right." I bit my cheek for a moment more. I'd never said I was wrong in my entire life. For a second, I wanted to scream, to sprint out of the room. But the promise of pleasure, of an earth-shattering orgasm, crushed my resistance. Resolve drained from my body like a flood, and I practically babbled my words over each other.

"I'm a sub, I'm submissive, I was such a stuck-up bitch to you daddy and I'm sorry!" I felt his finger begin to move again, faster and faster. "I deserve this, I deserve to be bred!" I could feel pressure in my stomach, my insides squeezing in excitement. I knew if I orgasmed, my cervix would suck the remaining cum in my vagina deeper into my womb, but I wasn't about to stop my father from rewarding my good behavior. "I want to be a good girl, daddy! You were right! You were right! I was a dumb bitch and you were right!" I screamed the final declaration as pleasure crashed through my brain, thundering down my shuddering chest, through my belly, and down into my vagina. My pussy clenched and unclenched rhythmically, and I gasped, my eyes wide, my mouth hanging open as my legs snapped closed around my father's hand, holding his fingers against my clit.

I don't know how long I orgasmed for, it might have been a minute, it might have been an hour. All I knew is it was the strongest of my life, and I couldn't wait for another. I couldn't give myself an orgasm like that, nor could any of the boys I'd convinced to dive into my pussy. It was only my father who could play with the lights in my brain, who could force my submissive body into the shapes I craved.

I became aware of myself again, feeling my body in a hazy, fuzzy wave of static. My legs were still pressed together, and were straight upwards, supported on my dad's shoulder.

His penis was hard again, and I became aware of it pushing into my dripping slit with a grunt of pleasure from my progenitor. I must've squirted when I came, as I was painfully aware of my drenched comforter.

My pussy squelched and queefed in the new position. I stared up at my father, feeling a mixture of love and lust.

I realized what I wanted more than anything in the world as I felt him bottom out, his thick cockhead again pressing against my unprotected cervix. I wanted to stay like this, to be used, to be his. The Jenny Jones of that morning was gone, replaced by a girl who knew her place, who knew what it meant to experience real pleasure, a girl who would do anything to please her father.

Anything.

Epilogue - Graduation Day - Three Months Later

Daddy bent me over on the couch, chin on my forearms, facing the door over the back of it, leaving me there to wait while he took a call. He didn't have to worry, and hadn't for several months. Of course I could've tried to run, but I would've had to leave daddy behind, and that wasn't something I could possibly bear anymore. I heard him talking into his phone, but couldn't make out what he was saying.

It didn't matter. The heat from my pussy was too intense.

I shivered as he returned to me, grasping my hips, aligning himself again with my dripping opening. It was pavlovian, every time I was manhandled, or verbally berated, or simply made to wait, it got me as wet as I'd been the first time.

"P-please fuck me!" I begged, needlessly, but he liked to hear it nevertheless. He pulled me onto his thick spear, impaling me on his unprotected cock with a grunt.

"Smile for the camera, sweetie..." He whispered into my ear. The front door opened, revealing Stacy, with two police officers in tow.

"J-Jenny! What the fuck?!" Stacy exclaimed, seeing my father mounting me from behind.

"Woah! Hey! Not cool!" Shouted one of the cops, his hand falling to his taser. "What the hell is this, man?!" The other shouted.

"Stop him!" Stacy screamed, watching my father's cock penetrating me fully once again. "He's trying to get her pregnant!" She knew of the old Jenny's aversion to the idea.

"We've got to get you on Cervatrix, baby, I want you to take my full length." Dad grunted into my ear before raising his voice to address the cops.

"Gentlemen, I think you'll find this is all very above board. My daughter's contract is on the table next to you, she's given over full bodily autonomy to me, and therefore has forfeited the right to be classified as a human." I saw revulsion and pity cross the faces of the two cops as they peered over at the document. They didn't understand.

Stacy rushed towards me, but my dad pushed her away with one hand, the other continuing to hold me in place.

"Jenny's dad! Stop! Please!" She was crying, tears streaming down her face. That just made my father harder inside me, his penis eager to dump another load into my guts. He laughed at her distress as the police officers had a brief, hushed conference.

I met Stacy's eyes, already knowing their conclusion. Tears rolled down my face too, but tears of pleasure, of ecstasy. I could tell she wanted to rush at him again, to push him off me, and for a second I felt a pang of sadness for a lost friendship. But there was nothing she, or the cops she'd brought, could do. He was right.

I was his.

Of course, I'd been the one to text her to come over. I'd given her a run-around for months, forestalling her arrival until dad had given me the green light. My pretense had been that he'd wanted to wait until graduation day, to rub salt in the wound. I'd wanted to tell her the truth, that we'd both been so terribly mistaken, so many times.

"Sorry to interrupt you, sir." One cop stated, bluntly. "We're on your property illegally, so we're going to withdraw." Said the other, watching my father pump in and out of me from behind.

"What the fuck?! No! Help her! She doesn't want to get pregnant!" Stacy wailed in apoplectic fury and despair. I could feel dad getting closer to orgasm, his breath coming in short, halting gasps. My fingers curled around the back of the sofa, feeling the pleasure of his manhood.

"Let's show her." Dad whispered into my ear. I nodded, and felt him pulling my torso back, my arms to either side, practically hauling me upright. He kept pounding me, essentially arching my back, revealing my slightly-rounded belly to Stacy and the cops. The pooch of fat, and a rounding of my stomach sufficient to cushion my baby as it grew in my womb were self-evident.

"Jenny-" Stacy gasped, and I smiled at her for the first time.

"Stacy, I'm finally whole!" I felt dad twitch with excitement at my words. "I finally have a baby growing in my belly!" He thrusted against me urgently, clapping against my ass loudly as Stacy watched on in shock. "I'm daddy's good girl, I'm so good, I'm his incest girl, I'm his breeding hole-" I babbled as I felt my father's thrusts become erratic, on the verge of pulsing his sperm into my bred womb.

"Young lady, come with us, you're technically trespassing too, and I don't think you want to see this..." One cop grabbed her shoulder, preventing her from flying at my dad in a rage. She tried to shake him off, but the other caught her too.

"Y-you never wanted this!" Stacy cried out through her tears.

I felt my father's cock swell inside again, and my vaginal walls fluttered in excitement.

I locked eyes with stacy. Her soft brown hair fluttered in the breeze from the open door. She really was beautiful. For an instant, I thought about fighting, about trying to escape my father, and the cops who would undoubtedly help him, with Stacy. I imagined holding her in my arms again, pulling her close-.

Dad grunted in pleasure as he filled me again in front of Stacy's eyes. I moaned in pleasure as his sperm fired into my hole, seeking to inbreed with me once again, despite my pussy already being pregnant with my own sibling.

Stacy watched as I arched my back, my father pulsing his load deep into my belly. I looked at her. I smiled, my gaze telling her everything she needed to know.

"No! Jenny! Jenny!" Stacy cried as the cops pulled her out, slamming the door behind her.

"Did you like seeing your friend?" My father withdrew with a grunt, my pussy still gaping with his girth, dripping with his sticky white seed. "I'm going to keep you pregnant, but she can come by every now and again." He came around to the other side of the couch and offered his dripping cock to my face.

I obediently began to suck him clean.

"Oh, Jenny, we're going to have so much fun over the next few years." He grinned down at me. His by right, by contract, and by breeding. I sucked his penis dutifully, willingly. I was going to have to get used to using all my holes on him, if my vagina were to get too sensitive in my third trimester I'd need to be prepared. I savored the fluids as they slid down my throat, tasting my vagina, and the seed daddy had planted inside me. I withdrew, opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue to show him I'd swallowed. His manhood twitched in front of my face in response, clearly he enjoyed the show.

"Do you want to fuck your little girl again, daddy?" I mewled, affecting a tone of submission and pathetic horniness. He surprised me by beckoning me upwards. I stood, and he scooped me into his arms, looping me under my legs, pushing me against the wall so he could push inside while standing. I giggled with excitement, feeling my belly squished between us, and the baby inside sloshing around with the cum my father had already pumped into me.

I moaned as his hard phallus slid home, lubricated by my saliva, vaginal fluids, and the cum still dripping from me onto the floor.

"Do you ever wonder how you failed the exam so badly?" He practically whispered the question. I responded with a flurry of kisses, my tongue exchanging saliva with his. He slid in and out at a sedate, relaxed pace. I slow, gentle fuck. "I mean it, you were some kind of genius back then, huh?" I felt a flicker of anger in my stomach, of sadness, of rage, of the old Jenny. I fought it back down into the lake of relaxed submission.

"I was a stuck-up bitch, dad-OH!" I grunted as he made a particularly deep push into my vagina. "I was a dumb, stuck-up little bitch who deserved to fail for treating you so poorly!" I felt him twitch deep inside me, clearly excited.

"Mmm, fuck babygirl, you got a ninety-eight." He dropped the number so casually, I almost didn't register it, his large, throbbing cock the only thing I could focus on.

"Wait, what did you say?" I felt an eyelid twitch as he pushed in and out of my flower, parting the leaves and stretching my insides. He grinned at me, and I felt a surge of blood fill his cock with evident excitement. He was getting off on teasing me.

"Allen is an old school buddy- we forged a fake test, paid a few bribes, and everyone looked the other way." He bit his lip, and I could feel his heart beating faster as he slid in and out of the vagina he'd conquered with incest baby. "I couldn't believe it when he told me your real score, he said he almost took a picture!" My jaw was hanging open in shock, feeling the world spin around me, my stomach dropping through the floor. "Almost." he emphasized, seeing my expression

"Y-you-" I stammered. He'd stolen my future. Cruelly snatched away greatness from my fingertips for what? Payback?

I looked down at my baby bump.

"Did you do it for the baby?" My voice cracked in disbelief, already knowing the answer.

"I did it for us to even have a baby- well, to have a dozen babies." He corrected himself. "I'm going to make sure you're never empty." I could feel the truth of his statement, the pulsation of his manhood. He was clearly getting off, figuratively and literally, on the clenching of my jaw, the anger bubbling up in my stomach.

I felt it swirling, speaking to me in a silent voice. It goaded me to fight, to yell, to react with instinctive rage instead of just letting my father use me. Stacy's face swam unbidden to my mind, streaked with tears.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and forcing the feeling down, into a deep sea of apathy, holding it under the water as my father continued to push his cock in and out of me. I thought of the baby growing inside me, swelling my belly with its life. I thought of the nights of pleasure, the days of ecstasy, and the future children we would create through my submission.

I'd had my chance -I'd taken it- but my father had loved me more, despite my verbal abuse, my wrong-headed unwillingness to see things from his perspective.

I opened my eyes, feeling the pleasure of that moment. It didn't matter what he'd done, what mattered is where we were now.

I smiled at my father, my hands falling to my baby bump, caressing the undefined shape of the growing child he'd planted into my womb all those months ago.

"Thank you, daddy." I felt his cockhead press against my cervix as he began to orgasm, painting my vagina with his semen, filling me as he'd done so many times before.

He groaned in pleasure, draining his balls into me for the second time that afternoon. His hand went to the side of my face, gentle and fatherly. I leaned into it, warmth spreading through my belly.

I didn't need what old Jenny thought I needed. I didn't crave the greatness of academia or some banal future of the programs I'd spent so long craving. It was my graduation day, and I'd graduated from the shackles of my own perseverance, surrendering myself entirely to my father and the terms of the contract which bound me to him.

It was just like I'd told Stacy.

I was finally whole.