Table of Contents

Part 1: Penny the Virgin

Part 2: Laura the Married Woman

Part 3: Chelsea the Lesbian

Part 4: Violet the Porn Star

Part 5: Anna the Cultist

Part 6: Kat the CEO

Harry Hammer shifted uncomfortably in the leather chair across from his father's imposing mahogany desk, the summons to George's office carrying the same weight it had since Harry was a child.

At forty-three, Harry was the Hammer Breeding Agency's crown jewel, their most valuable asset—a man whose unique biological gifts had given countless wealthy families children. But something in his father's expression today suggested this wasn't their usual quarterly performance review.

"Eight successful impregnations this quarter alone," George Hammer said, his silver hair perfectly coiffed as he flipped through a leather-bound ledger. "The Al-Saud princess, both Vanderholt wives, that tech billionaire's tenth wife..." He closed the ledger with a snap. "Impressive as always, son."

"Thanks, Dad." Harry nodded, feeling the familiar pride in his work. "The new seduction techniques we've been implementing have increased first-attempt success by nearly twenty percent."

George's cold gray eyes fixed on Harry. "And yet, with all this success—all this genetic legacy you're spreading across the globe—I find myself in quite the predicament."

Harry waited, knowing his father's flair for dramatic pauses.

"I have six granddaughters, Harry, and not a single one has produced an heir. The Hammer Breeding Agency faces a crisis of credibility. How can we charge millions for our services when our own family line falters?"

"They're young, Dad. They have time," Harry offered, though he knew it was weak. His daughters ranged from twenty-one to twenty-five—prime reproductive years in the Hammer philosophy.

"Time?" George turned sharply. "Kat is more interested in corporate takeovers than motherhood. Chelsea seems determined to challenge every traditional value we stand for. I don’t even know what to say about her twin sister, Violet, except perhaps that she cracked the top ten in ‘stepsister porn’ searches on HotVids last week."

"Okay Dad, you’ve made your point—" Harry interrupted. But George wasn’t finished.

"Anna has joined that ridiculous celibate cult. Laura's husband can't get it up." He ticked each failure off on his fingers. "Penny, meanwhile, hasn’t bothered with sex at all, let alone relationships. A virgin!"

Harry sighed. "They have their own lives, their own choices."

"Choices!" George slammed his palm on the desk. "The Hammer lineage doesn't continue itself through choices. It continues through duty." He took a deep breath, recomposing himself. "Which brings me to why you're here today."

George returned to his seat, opening a different folder and sliding it across the polished wood. Harry hesitated, then pulled it closer, flipping it open. Inside were detailed fertility charts, ovulation cycles, and psychological profiles. He recognized the names immediately.

"What is this?" Harry asked, though a sickening realization was already forming in his gut.

"Your next six assignments," George replied, his tone businesslike. "We need children from these six women. Children with the Hammer gift. We need the best breeder in the business. We need you — to impregnate your daughters."

Harry's mouth went dry. "This is sick, Dad. These are my own flesh and blood."

"That’s just it. Think about it, Harry," George countered smoothly. "Your hyper-mobile sperm, its exceptional fertility, not to mention distance and volume that outmatches men half your age—"

"That’s enough, Dad—" Harry winced at his father’s clinical recitation of his impressive cum statistics, but George was on a roll.

"—a gift that will only last so long, by the way. All of this, combined with the genetically optimized eggs of women already carrying the recessive Hammer traits. It's the perfect breeding program."

Harry stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "I won't do it. I've impregnated royalty, celebrities, the wives of the most powerful men in the world. But this—" he gestured to the folder, "—this crosses every line."

"Look, I’ve arranged your standard fee—five million per successful impregnation. Everything will be properly documented as professional services rendered. And of course, your continued position in my will depends on your cooperation."

The threat hung in the air between them, clear and unmistakable.

Harry flipped through the file again, his eyes catching details about his daughters—women he'd raised but grown increasingly distant from as his work consumed him. Images accompanied each profile: Kat in her power suit, Chelsea and Violet with their fiery red hair, Anna in her modest dress, Laura's athletic build, and Penny, the youngest at 21...sweet, introverted Penny with her soft curls and shy smile.

To his horror, the forbidden nature of the whole damned enterprise triggered something primal in him, something he'd spent decades harnessing for professional purposes. His cock twitched against his tailored pants as he imagined Penny's virgin flesh yielding to him, her untouched womb welcoming his potent seed.

"Jesus," he muttered, disgusted with himself.

"I'll take that as your acceptance," George said, correctly interpreting Harry's conflicted expression. "You'll start with Penny. She's ovulating in three days. Her psychological profile suggests she'll be the easiest to... persuade. Her inexperience makes her vulnerable to your particular talents."

Harry closed the folder, his decision made despite every ethical alarm blaring in his mind. "Penny first," he confirmed, his voice hollow.

"Excellent." George slid another, thinner file across the desk. "She's at her apartment tonight, alone with those ridiculous cats of hers. I suggest you pay her a visit. Father-daughter bonding, so to speak."

The words sent another unwelcome pulse of arousal through Harry. He tucked the file under his arm, nodding curtly to his father before turning to leave.

"And Harry," George’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone. "Do try to enjoy yourself."

Harry didn't respond, closing the door behind him with a soft click. 

+++

Penny Hammer curled into her oversized plush armchair, the most lived-in spot in her small, cozy apartment, a novel spread open across her lap, her favorite tabby cat purring beside her.

She'd just reached a particularly steamy scene in her historical romance—the kind of passage that always made her cheeks flush and her thighs press together unconsciously—when three sharp knocks at her door startled her. She wasn't expecting anyone, especially not at eight on a Friday evening.

With a reluctant sigh, she carefully marked her page and displaced the grumbling cat. Padding to the door in her fuzzy socks, oversized sweater, and comfortable leggings, she peered through the peephole and felt a jolt of surprise.

"Dad?" she questioned, opening the door to find Harry Hammer standing in her hallway, looking uncharacteristically casual in dark jeans and a button-down shirt rather than his usual tailored suit.

"Hello, sweetheart," Harry smiled, his eyes taking in his youngest daughter's appearance with new awareness. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. It's been too long."

Penny blinked, surprised by the unexpected visit. "Um, sure. Come in." She stepped aside, suddenly self-conscious about her modest apartment with its overflowing bookshelves and cat toys scattered across the floor. "Sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting company."

"It's charming," Harry assured her, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. His eyes caught the novel lying open on her chair. "What are you reading?"

Penny hurried to snatch up the book, embarrassed by the explicit scene she’d been engrossed in. "Just some historical fiction."

"Huh, looks more like historical romance to me," Harry commented with a knowing smile, making Penny's cheeks flush pink.

"It's... research," Penny mumbled unconvincingly, tucking the book onto a shelf. "Do you want some tea or something?"

Harry declined, settling onto her small sofa with the easy confidence of a man accustomed to taking up space. "I'd rather catch up. Tell me about your life, Penny. It's been what, six months since we really talked?"

Penny perched awkwardly on the edge of her armchair, tucking her feet underneath her. "Not much to tell. Still working at the bookstore, still taking my literature courses. Still just me and the cats." She gestured to where her tabby had been joined by a sleek black cat watching Harry suspiciously from atop a bookcase.

"No boyfriend? Girlfriend?" Harry asked, his tone casual but his eyes intent.

Penny shifted uncomfortably. "You know that's not really my thing, Dad."

"Not your thing, or something you haven't explored yet?" Harry leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

"Dad," Penny protested weakly, her discomfort growing. "What's with the twenty questions about my love life?"

Harry chuckled, the sound warm and disarming. "Professional habit, I suppose." He gestured to her bookshelf. "But those books tell me you're not completely uninterested in the subject. All those romances with their heaving bosoms and throbbing manhoods..."

"Stop," Penny groaned, covering her face. "This is weird."

"Is it?" Harry asked, his voice dropping lower. "Is it weird to discuss sexuality with someone who understands it professionally? Who could answer questions you might have?"

Penny looked up, suddenly aware of a strange tension in the room. "What kind of questions?"

Harry's smile was gentle, but his eyes held something Penny had never noticed before—a heat, an intensity that made her stomach flutter strangely.

"Pleasure, for instance," he said smoothly. "The books describe it, but have you ever experienced it yourself, Penny? Really experienced it?"

Penny swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. "I don't think this is an appropriate conversation."

"Because I'm your father?" Harry asked, unfazed. "Or because the subject makes you uncomfortable?"

"Both," Penny admitted, even as a part of her mind wondered where this conversation was heading.

Harry rose from the sofa, moving to sit on the arm of her chair, close enough that she could smell his cologne. "What if we set aside our relationship for a moment? What if I'm just a man who specializes in pleasure, and you're just a curious woman who hasn't explored her own desires with another man?"

Penny stared up at him. She wouldn’t say so, but the truth was, she had partaken in some sexual exploration with someone else once — a woman, her older sister, Chelsea. She had helped Penny “get to know her body a little better” when she had turned 19.

But she had yet to experience a man in any remotely sexual sense and still considered herself a virgin. Warmth blossomed in her belly at the thought of a strong pair of hands taking hold of her, a warm, thick cock penetrating her pussy, even as she tried to push away the forbidden idea of intimacy with her father. "I don't understand what's happening right now."

"I think you do," Harry said softly, his hand reaching out to brush a dark curl from her face. "I think you feel it—that curiosity. The same curiosity that makes you read those scenes in your books over and over."

Penny's breathing quickened, her heart pounding against her ribs. "Dad, this is—"

"Shh," he soothed, his fingers trailing down her cheek to her neck. "Don't overthink it. Just feel. Have you ever touched yourself, Penny? Made yourself cum while reading those books?"

The crude word in her father's mouth shocked her, but at the same time she felt a shameful heat building between her legs. "I... sometimes," Penny admitted in a whisper.

"Show me," Harry encouraged, his voice a hypnotic command. "Show me how you touch yourself."

"What? No!" Penny tried to stand, but Harry's presence, so close, so overwhelming, kept her rooted in place.

"You're curious," Harry insisted gently. "I can see it in your eyes. You want to know what it feels like—real pleasure, not just what you can give yourself." His hand moved to her knee, a light, non-threatening touch. "Let me show you. No pressure, no expectations. Just knowledge."

Part of her wanted to throw him out. Instead, she found herself asking in a small voice, "Why are you doing this?"

Harry's answer was smooth, knowing. "Because I see a beautiful young woman who deserves to experience pleasure. Because I'm uniquely qualified to introduce you to it." His hand moved slightly higher on her thigh. "And because I think you want me to."

Penny knew he wasn't entirely wrong. The warmth in her body was spreading—a response, an undeniable need.

"I'll start," Harry offered, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. "No pressure on you."

Penny watched, transfixed, as he revealed his chest. She had never seen her father this way, never thought of him as a sexual being. Yet here he was, undressing in her living room, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Your turn," he encouraged. "Just the sweater, if you want."

Penny's hands moved as if controlled by someone else, gripping the hem of her oversized sweater and pulling it over her head. She sat in her simple cotton bra, arms instinctively covering herself.

"Beautiful," Harry murmured, reaching for her hands and gently pulling them away. "No need to hide."

"This is wrong," Penny whispered, but made no move to stop him as his fingers traced the outline of her bra.

"Does it feel wrong?" Harry asked, his thumb brushing across her nipple through the thin fabric, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body as well as his. "Or does it feel good?"

"It feels... good," Penny admitted, her body responding to his touch with a dampness between her legs she couldn't ignore.

"That's just the beginning," Harry promised, his experienced hands unhooking her bra, revealing her small breasts, nipples hardening in the cool air and under his appreciative gaze.

He guided her hands to cup and squeeze her tits, controlling her movements with an authority that bewildered and thrilled her.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice assured and comforting. "Let’s start off easy. Show me how you pleasure yourself when you're alone with those naughty books of yours."

Penny’s breathing grew ragged as she followed his instructions, sliding her fingers down her abdomen and against her mound, working her fingers tentatively over the fabric.

"Don't be shy now," Harry coaxed, his professional demeanor slipping as his cock strained painfully against his pants. "Be a good girl and slide your leggings down for me. Show me that pretty body of yours."

Her mind screamed objections, but her body betrayed her as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and slowly slid them down her pale thighs. She wore panties that matched her bra—plain white, nothing fancy—with a growing wet spot at the center.

"Look at that," Harry murmured appreciatively. His fingers traced the edge of her panties, making her shiver. "Those are soaked, sweetheart. You should take them off for me."

She obeyed, sliding her panties down to reveal her pussy, crowned by a soft patch of curls and glistening with desire.

"So pretty, baby girl," Harry gasped, struggling to maintain self-control. He now stood before her. He had unbuttoned his pants and taken his stiff cock out now, stroking openly.

Penny's eyes widened at the sight of her father's massive cock. She'd never seen a real one before, only diagrams in books and digital images that occasionally popped up on her erotica feeds despite her filters. Harry's member was thick and veined, the swollen head glistening with pre-cum as he stroked it lazily.

"That's... that's so big," she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away.

Harry chuckled, his professional pride evident. "It's my gift, sweetheart." He continued stroking himself, his eyes devouring his daughter's exposed body.

"Touch yourself for me," he instructed, his voice carrying the same authoritative tone he used with his breeding clients. "Show Daddy how you make yourself feel good."

Penny's fingers trembled as they glided through her wet slit. Feeling her father's hungry eyes tracking every movement lit her on fire. The thrill of showing herself off to such a forbidden figure only heightened her arousal.

"That's it," Harry encouraged, his voice dropping low. "Spread those pretty lips for me, let me see how wet you are." She obeyed, clear fluid beading on her pink inner labia.

"Perfect," Harry breathed, his cock twitching in his hand at the sight of his youngest daughter's exposed pussy. "Now slide your fingers inside. Have you ever done that before?"

"Sometimes," Penny admitted, her voice barely audible as she slowly pushed one finger into her wetness. "Just like this."

Harry watched as his daughter's delicate finger disappeared inside her virgin hole. His cock throbbed painfully in his grip as he witnessed this intimate act.

"Add another," he instructed, his professional tone faltering as raw lust overtook him. "Stretch yourself for me, baby girl."

Penny whimpered as she slid a second finger alongside the first. The sensation of stretching herself while her father watched sent conflicting waves of shame and arousal through Penny's body. Her fingers moved hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence as her body responded with gushes of honey and cream.

"That's it," Harry encouraged, his professional demeanor slipping further as he watched his daughter pleasure herself. "Curl your fingers upward. Feel that rough patch? That's your sweet spot."

Penny gasped as her fingers found the textured area he described, sending jolts of electricity through her core. "Oh! I've never... I didn't know..." Even her sister Chelsea hadn’t offered that particular tip.

"That's why you need guidance," Harry murmured. "Books can only teach so much. Some things require... hands-on instruction."

He moved closer, kneeling before her chair. His large hands gently pushed her knees further apart, exposing her completely to his gaze.

Penny trembled, caught between embarrassment and a burning curiosity that overrode her better judgment.

"Keep touching yourself," he instructed, his breath hot against her inner thigh. "But watch me now. Learn from what I do."

Before Penny could process his words, Harry leaned forward and dragged his tongue along her wet slit, eliciting a startled cry from her lips. Her body jerked at the unfamiliar sensation.

"Oh my god," she gasped, her thighs instinctively trying to close against the overwhelming pleasure. While the memory of Chelsea’s touch had been burned in her brain, their exploration was limited to fingers only, more instructional than sensual.

But Harry’s tongue was opening up a new world of sexual delight. His caresses made her feel l like a woman — an object of desire and lust.

His strong hands kept her legs spread wide, his experienced tongue circling her clit.

Penny's head fell back, her eyes closing as waves of pleasure unlike anything she'd ever felt washed over her. Her father's tongue was relentless, alternating between broad strokes that covered her entire slit and pointed precision against her throbbing clit.

"Dad—I mean—I can't—" she stammered, her hips beginning to move of their own accord, grinding against his face.

Harry hummed appreciatively against her pussy, the vibrations sending new ripples of pleasure through her core. His hands gripped her thighs firmly, keeping her spread open as his tongue sank deeper, tasting his daughter's virginal nectar with growing hunger.

"You taste so sweet," he growled against her flesh, his professional demeanor all but abandoned. "So fucking perfect."

Penny writhed in the armchair, one hand clutching desperately at the fabric while the other ran her fingers through her father's coiffed hair. Every lick, every suck sent her spiraling further into a pleasure-filled haze where nothing existed but the sensations he was creating.

"Oh god, what's happening?" she cried out as a new tension began building in her core, something stronger and more intense than anything she'd achieved with her own fumbling fingers, and even that night with her sister when, despite her skill, she’d been too nervous.

Harry recognized the signs immediately, his professional expertise coming to the fore despite his lust. "That's it, baby girl," he murmured against her slick flesh. "You're about to cum. Don't fight it. Let it happen."

He doubled his efforts, focusing his skilled tongue directly on her swollen clit while sliding two thick fingers into her virgin pussy. The sudden fullness, combined with the relentless attention to her clit, pushed Penny over the edge.

Her body convulsed as waves of her first real orgasm crashed through her, her thighs clamping around her father's head as she bucked against his face. A sharp moan escaped her lips, her eyes rolling back as pleasure unlike anything she'd ever experienced consumed her.

"Daddy! Oh god, Daddy!" she cried out, the forbidden word slipping from her lips without thought.

Harry growled against her flesh, her orgasm igniting a primal hunger within him. His cock throbbed painfully as he continued lapping at Penny's convulsing pussy, drinking in the flood of her virgin juices. She tasted sweeter than any woman he'd ever had—a thought that fueled his darkest desires.

As Penny's orgasm subsided, leaving her panting and disoriented, Harry rose to his feet. His imposing figure towered over her trembling body, his massive cock jutting proudly from his open pants.

Her father’s expert tongue left her breathless, and now she felt a new sensation rising within her. A need to be filled she couldn’t deny, even as she hesitated over the next unthinkable step.

"Daddy," she exhaled, her back arched, offering herself to him. "I want your cock so bad, but I never..."

"It’s okay, sweetheart, it won't hurt for long," Harry promised, positioning himself between her spread thighs.

He scooped Penny up and moved her from the chair to the sofa, laying her out before him like a feast. "Your body is made for this, Penny. Made to take a cock, to be filled."

He rubbed the head of his cock through her wet folds, coating himself in her juices. Penny moaned at the contact, her hips lifting unconsciously, seeking more.

"That's it," Harry encouraged. "Your body wants this. Wants me."

"But...you’re my dad, are you sure we should be doing this?" she questioned one final time, even as her thighs spread wider in invitation.

"More than anything, princess. I'm about to make you feel better than you've ever felt before," Harry assured, positioning his cock at her virgin hole. "Relax for me, baby girl."

Penny gasped as he pushed forward, the thick head of his cock stretching her untried pussy. There was pain, sharp and sudden, as her hymen gave way, but Harry didn't stop. He pushed steadily forward until he was fully buried inside her, his balls pressed against her ass.

"Fuck," he groaned, feeling her tight walls clenching around him. "So tight, so perfect."

Penny panted beneath him, adjusting to the fullness, the intrusion that was rapidly turning from pain to something else. "It hurts," she whimpered.

"Not for long," Harry promised, beginning to move in slow, shallow thrusts. "Your pussy's learning to take Daddy's cock. Feel how it's already getting easier?"

And it was. To Penny's amazement, the discomfort was fading, replaced by waves of pleasure unlike anything she'd imagined. Each thrust sent sparks of sensation through her body, building something inside her that threatened to overwhelm.

"Oh god," she moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

"You're getting close again," Harry told her, increasing his pace. "Getting close to cumming on your Daddy's cock. That's what you want, isn't it? To feel what it’s like to cum with me deep inside you?"

The dirty talk pushed Penny higher, closer to a new, more intense precipice. "Yes," she admitted, shameless now in her need. "Please, make me cum again."

Harry drove into her harder, the wet sounds of their coupling filling the small apartment. His hand slipped between them, finding her clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

"That's it, baby girl. Take my cock. Take all of it."

Penny's body seized, her back arching off the sofa as waves of pleasure swept through her body for a second, even more powerful orgasm. She cried out incoherent words as her pussy pulsed around her Harry’s girth.

"Fuck yes," Harry growled, feeling her spasm around him. "That's it, cum on Daddy's cock."

He continued pounding into her, prolonging her orgasm until she was gasping, tears of pleasure streaming down her face.

A primal voice Penny’s brain made its way to her conscious mind, crystal clear, driving her to say things she had never imagined, but now couldn’t deny: she craved his release, craved her father’s seed deep inside of her womb.

"Daddy I need your cum, please! Fill me up!" she cried out, wrapping her legs around his torso and pulling him as deep as he could go.

It was the signal Harry had been waiting for — the switch he needed to allow his own release, driving deep into her virgin womb and unleashing a torrent of potent seed.

"Take it," he groaned, his cock pulsing inside her.

"Take all of Daddy's cum, deep in your sweet pussy," he demanded, rocking back and forth as a seemingly endless stream of hot jets flooded her insides, so much cum, filling her until she could hold no more, the remaining spunk spilling out and causing a mess on the couch.

And just when she thought he might be done, Harry growled through another set of powerful spasms sending yet another flood of cum shooting deep inside her now well-used cunt; a display of stamina and sheer volume that had earned him the informal title of World’s Top Breeding Specialist.

Somehow, in Penny’s pleasure-fogged mind, it felt right— as if this was what her body had always been waiting for.

Harry collapsed beside her, pulling her sweaty body against his. For several minutes, they lay together in silence, their breathing gradually slowing.

"Is that..." Penny began hesitantly, "Is that what sex is always like? Is it always...so much?" she asked, playing with the stream of semen still leaking from her hole, using the fluid to idly glaze her clit in her warm afterglow.

Harry laughed, his hand stroking her hair. "No, baby girl. That was special — my gift, and yours, too."

Penny nodded, a strange satisfaction settling over her. The implications of what they'd done hovered at the edges of her consciousness, but couldn't penetrate the glow of pleasure still suffusing her body.

"We should do it again," she suggested tentatively.

Harry smiled, feeling his cock already hardening for a second round. If his seed wasn’t already taking root in her fertile womb, perhaps the next round’s would.

"Roll over," he instructed, guiding her onto her hands and knees. "Time to show you another way Daddy can make you feel good."

Penny complied eagerly, her initial resistance forgotten in the promise of more pleasure. As Harry positioned himself behind her, she arched her back instinctually, offering herself completely in a show of trust and sexual submission to her Daddy.

Epilogue: Three Weeks Later

Harry sat across from his father once again, this time with a clinical report laid open between them. The bold "POSITIVE" result confirmed what he had suspected—his virile seed had taken root in his daughter's previously untouched womb.

Harry felt a complex mixture of professional pride and perverse pleasure wash over him. Despite the moral transgression, he couldn't deny the dark satisfaction of knowing he had successfully bred his own daughter.

"Well done," George declared, tapping the report with one manicured fingernail. His cold eyes glinted with satisfaction. "Given your exceptional motility rates, I'm not surprised it took just one attempt."

Harry nodded, professional demeanor firmly in place despite the twisted nature of their discussion. "Penny was... receptive to the process."

George arched an eyebrow. "So I've heard. She called me yesterday, bubbling with excitement about the 'unexpected blessing.' Seems your techniques were particularly effective."

"She was a virgin," Harry replied clinically, though his cock twitched at the memory. "First sexual experiences often create powerful psychological bonds. I simply leveraged that natural response."

What he didn't share with his father was how completely Penny had transformed after their initial encounter. That first night had extended into a weekend-long sexual marathon, with Harry awakening desires in his youngest daughter she'd never known existed. By Sunday evening, she had been eagerly swallowing his massive loads of cum, begging for more in multiple holes, all traces of the shy bookworm subsumed by newfound carnal hunger.

"Well, whatever you did worked splendidly," George said, closing the file with a satisfied snap. "She's even requested regular... consultations with you throughout the pregnancy to ensure optimal development of the fetus."

Harry couldn't suppress a small smile. "Consultations" was a tidy euphemism for what Penny had actually requested—regular, vigorous fucking by her Daddy to "keep the baby happy." The perverse logic had amused him, though he suspected it was simply her newfound sexuality seeking continued satisfaction.

George opened a drawer and withdrew another file, thicker than Penny's had been. "Your next assignment requires a more... delicate approach."

Harry accepted the folder, opening it to find Laura's photo staring back at him. His eldest daughter, twenty-five, athletic and serious, her blonde hair pulled back in a practical ponytail.

"Ovulating next week," Harry murmured, scanning the fertility chart.

"Yes, but there's a complication," George explained, leaning back in his leather chair. "Unlike Penny, Laura has a husband."

"Derek," Harry nodded, familiar with his son-in-law. A quiet, unambitious man whom Laura had married three years earlier.

"A man who, according to Laura's gynecological records, is shooting blanks." George's disdain was palpable. "Zero sperm count. Completely infertile."

Harry nodded and closed the file, tucking it under his arm as he stood. He would need to draw up a plan, but their business was concluded for now.

Later, as Harry drove toward Penny's place to satisfy her awakened needs, his mind shifted to Laura. The challenge of seducing his oldest daughter excited him in a different way than Penny had. Where Penny had been innocent and untried, Laura was experienced but restrained, her sexuality constricted by moral boundaries and marital loyalty.

His phone buzzed with a text message. Penny, impatient for his arrival: "Hurry, Daddy. Your baby girl needs you to fill her again."

Harry smiled, pressing harder on the accelerator. First, he would fuck his youngest daughter senseless. Then, he would begin figuring out his approach to Laura—how to transform a faithful wife into a daddy-fucked breeding vessel carrying her father's child.

The moral man Harry had once been would have been disgusted by what he had become. But that man was fading with each forbidden conquest, replaced by something primal and hungry. One down, five to go. The Hammer legacy would continue, one daughter at a time.

Laura Hammer’s eyes fixed on her dinner plate as she pushed around strands of half-eaten angel hair pasta. Her blonde locks curtained around her face, obscuring a tense expression.