Daddy's Fieldwork

She went in as research. He bred her.

Iris Hartley is twenty-four and undercover as a new hostess. Notebook in the bag. No one inside is supposed to know she is collecting data.

The man who does the second check owns the building.

Gordon Hartley. Mid-fifties. Her father. He looks at her too long and says she looks like someone he knows. He already knows. He plays her game while he opens her, fucks her, and sends her home to Sunday lunch with his load still in her. Mum passes the peas. Dad carves the lamb. He tells her she was built for this.

The cover dies in a hotel bed. He says her name. He tells her how stupid she must think he is. Of course he knew his girl. He folds her open, breeds her, and asks if it will be a boy or a girl. She does not know. Daddy says it will have to be both.

By the time the report comes back glowing she is already pregnant. Mum coos and feeds the baby in the next room while Daddy puts the next one in her over the dining chair and tells her he wants the girl this time. He will keep her. He will take care of her. Iris has already named the next one.