The nineteenth night Diya no longer prepared, no longer waited, no longer pretended there was any part of her left that was not already his.

When she lay down naked on her back, her legs fell open on their own. Her cunt was already swollen, puffy, and wet, the lips parted and permanently gaping from the continuous use of the previous eighteen nights. The sheet beneath her was stiff and stained with everything her father had left in her. She forced her breathing into the slow rhythm of sleep and waited with her thighs spread, exactly the way he required them to be.

Her phone remained switched off and forgotten.

At 11:40 the door opened.

Her father stepped inside, locked it, and walked straight to the bed. The mattress sank heavily under his weight. For a long moment he only looked at the open, ruined place between her legs — at how it no longer closed, at how it waited for him already glistening and used. Then two thick fingers pushed into her without warning, sinking deep with almost no resistance, twisting, feeling the soft, permanently stretched heat of his daughter’s cunt. A low, satisfied sound left his throat.

He freed himself. The hot, heavy head of his cock pressed against her entrance and slid in with one slow, continuous thrust. Diya’s walls stretched around him with almost no resistance at all. She forced every muscle to stay limp as he buried himself to the hilt. When his hips finally rested against hers, every thick inch of him was locked inside her. He stayed completely still for almost a full minute, simply feeling her cunt wrapped around him while she “slept.”

Then he began to fuck her.

The thrusts were deep, steady, and relentless from the first stroke. He pulled almost all the way out before driving back in to the root, the wet sound of her cunt taking him filling the quiet room. His hands held her thighs wide open, thumbs pressing hard into the soft flesh, keeping her spread exactly the way he wanted. Every time he bottomed out, the head of his cock pressed firmly against her cervix. Diya’s first orgasm built quickly and against her will. She fought to stay still as the pressure gathered. Her father felt the early flutters around him and responded by fucking her harder, his thumb rubbing her clit in tight, merciless circles. The climax tore through her in silence — her cunt clamping down in powerful pulses, clear fluid spilling out around his thrusting cock. He fucked her straight through it without slowing.

He did not stop after she came.

He kept the same deep, powerful rhythm, using her body with quiet, filthy endurance. The wet sound of her oversensitive cunt taking him again and again filled the room. Diya’s second orgasm built faster than the first, heavier and more painful. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood to stay silent as it crashed through her, her walls convulsing hard around him, more fluid soaking the sheet.

Still he did not stop.

He fucked her through a third silent orgasm, then a fourth, then a fifth, then a sixth, then a seventh. Each one left her more open, more limp, more broken than the last. Her thoroughly used cunt had become a soft, dripping, continuously twitching hole that simply took whatever he gave it. Time blurred completely. She no longer knew how long he had been inside her — only that the wet, creamy sound of their joining never stopped and that his hands never once allowed her thighs to close.

At some point his breathing finally changed.

The thrusts became shorter, deeper, more urgent. He buried himself to the hilt and started coming with a low, broken groan. Thick, hot pulses of cum flooded her already oversensitive cunt while she lay completely still, taking every drop. He ground against her through each spurt, forcing it deep, until nothing was left.

He stayed buried inside her afterward, breathing hard. His cock softened only slightly. After a few minutes she felt him begin to thicken again while still locked inside her. He started moving once more — slow, deep strokes that stirred the fresh load of cum and made soft, filthy wet sounds. Diya’s thoroughly ruined cunt fluttered weakly around him. He fucked her like that for a long time, unhurried, using the creamy heat of her body until his breathing roughened again.

The second time he came, he pushed even deeper, holding himself locked against her cervix as another heavy load flooded her. The pressure forced some of the earlier cum out around his cock in thick white trickles that ran down over her ass. He stayed buried inside her until his cock finally began to soften for real.

This time he still did not pull out.

He remained inside her, still half-hard, both hands resting on her inner thighs, keeping them spread wide open. Minutes passed. Then more minutes. His cock never fully softened. After a long time she felt him begin to thicken once more while still buried in her. He started moving again — slow, lazy, possessive strokes that kept her open and full. Diya’s overused cunt could only flutter weakly around him. He used her like that for what felt like hours, occasionally pausing to simply stay deep inside her, occasionally fucking her with long, deliberate thrusts until he added yet another load to everything already sealed within her.

The gray light of early dawn was beginning to filter through the curtains when he finally stopped.

By then her cunt was a swollen, gaping, continuously leaking mess that could no longer close even when he finally withdrew. When he at last pulled out, a heavy, continuous rush of his seed followed, spilling from her open hole onto the sheet in thick ropes that showed no sign of ending. He gathered as much as he could on four fingers and pushed it back inside her, slow and thorough. Then he placed both hands on her inner thighs and pressed them firmly outward, holding her spread open so he could watch his cum leak from her in an unbroken stream.

He stayed like that for a long time, simply watching.

Only when the light had grown stronger did he finally speak for the first time in nineteen nights.

His voice was low, calm, and absolute.

“This cunt is mine now. It stays open for me. It stays full of me. Every night from now on, the door stays unlocked, and you stay exactly like this.”

He held her thighs open a moment longer, watching his cum continue to leak from her, before finally standing.

The mattress rose. Cloth rustled. Footsteps moved to the door. The lock turned. The door opened and closed. His own bedroom door shut a few seconds later.

Diya waited until the flat was completely silent.

Then she tried to close her legs one last time.

They no longer belonged to her in any way.

Her cunt stayed open, gaping, steadily leaking her father’s cum onto the soaked sheet beneath her in thick, unbroken drips that had no intention of stopping. The muscles that once allowed her to close herself had been fucked into permanent submission. She left herself exactly as he had positioned her — legs spread, cunt open and leaking — and stared at the ceiling while the morning light grew stronger.

The door stayed unlocked.

And she already knew that every night for the rest of her life he would come again, and that her body would still be open and waiting for him exactly the way he had left it, because it was no longer hers.

It was his.

Completely.