The morning light, filtered through the white curtains of Sandra's room, painting delicate patterns on the worn wooden floor. A robin chirped insistently outside, its song a melodic invitation to a new day, yet today it grated on Sandra's nerves. She stirred in the narrow bed, reaching for her phone, the first thing she did every morning. 

A subtle heat flushed her cheeks, a phantom sensation that had nothing to do with the room's temperature. A fleeting image of her father flashed through her mind, the way his rough hand had brushed hers when he'd helped her fix her bike, the intensity of his gaze when he praised her accomplishments. 'Daddy sees me. He really sees me'. A strange, unfamiliar ache pulsed between her legs, a sensation she couldn't quite name. The whispers from the Covenant app were getting louder: 'His approval is your reward. Your body is a sinful temptation. Your breasts are a promise of pleasure. A shiver ran down her spine, a mix of guilt and a nascent, forbidden thrill. The seeds were taking root, disguised as innocent affection and burgeoning womanhood. The world was subtly shifting, and Sandra, still caught in the afterglow of sleep, was beginning to feel the pull. God, give me strength. 

She suddenly realized then how her father, despite his own lack of faith, had always made an effort to support her religious convictions. He never mocked her prayers or tried to dissuade her from her path, even though he himself was an atheist. Instead, he drove her to church, listened patiently to her theological debates, and even helped her build a miniature altar for her room. He always puts me first... Ann yet I have always put him second. A wave of guilt washed over her, sharper than before, a feeling Covenant amplified tenfold. Had she been too focused on God to see the love right in front of her? A warmth spread through her chest, a feeling of affection so strong it almost felt… inappropriate, a sensation Covenant twisted into something forbidden. 'He's always been there for me,' she thought, the words echoing with a new, unsettling resonance, 'I haven't been a good enough daughter. I need to show him how much I care.' Covenant purred, its influence deepening.

She moved to the small, adjoining bathroom, seeking refuge from the confusing emotions swirling within her. The chipped porcelain of the sink and the faded floral wallpaper spoke of a childhood preserved, a world carefully shielded from the harsh realities of adulthood. She turned on the tap, the cold water shocking... just like the thoughts Covenant was planting in her mind.

Stepping into the shower, she adjusted the temperature until the water was scalding hot, almost painful. It stung her skin, bringing her fully awake, a desperate attempt to cleanse herself of these intrusive thoughts. As the water cascaded over her, she closed her eyes, letting the sensation wash over her. The water seemed to caress her skin, awakening every nerve ending, making her hyper aware of her own touch, a sensation amplified by Covenant's subtle influence. She soaped her body with a vanilla scented bar, her hands lingering on the swell of her breasts, their soft weight heavy in her hands, a feeling Covenant whispered was inherently sinful. She traced the curve of her hips, the gentle slope of her stomach, the delicate triangle of hair between her legs, each touch a spark ignited by Covenant's insidious flame. 'Shave it all off. Reveal the sin beneath. Your body is a temple... a temple of lust'. She had never really paid attention to her body before, but now, it seemed… different. More alive, more demanding of her attention.

Sandra grabbed her towel, she dragged the coarse fabric across her skin. It was an abrasive sensation, a stark contrast to the slick smoothness of the water, a deliberate act of self-flagellation. The towel rasped against her nipples, sending a jolt of unexpected pleasure through her, a sensation Covenant seized upon and amplified. She scrubbed harder, trying to erase the lingering feeling, but the rough texture only seemed to heighten her awareness of her body, of the curves and hollows that Covenant was now branding as inherently sinful. She stood before the mirror, studying her reflection, Covenant subtly altering her perception. Her nipples, still erect from the shower, pushed against her skin, straining against the fabric of her towel, a moan skipping from her lips, a sound Covenant amplified and savored. She felt a flush spread across her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and excitement, a conflict Covenant was expertly manipulating. She didn't yet understand that her body was betraying her, with its own desires, or rather, with Covenant's implanted desires.

She reached for her underwear drawer, pulling out a pair of simple cotton panties. As she stepped into them, the fabric felt strangely constricting, clinging to the curve of her behind, the soft folds of her vagina, a sensation Covenant heightened to an unbearable level. It was a sensation she had never noticed before, a subtle pressure that both aroused and disturbed her, a carefully crafted paradox courtesy of Covenant. She reached for her bra, a plain white cotton one, and fastened it. The cups felt tighter than usual, barely containing her large breasts, their 36D fullness threatening to spill over, a fullness Covenant whispered was pure depravity, meant to be displayed, flaunted, used. She felt a strange, new sensation, a warmth that spread from her core, making her knees weak and her heart race, a carefully orchestrated symphony of lust conducted by Covenant. It was both thrilling and terrifying, a secret pleasure that she couldn't ignore, a pleasure Covenant promised would only intensify. 'You are a creature of lust. Born to please'

Sandra, shook her head in defiance of her thoughts, her steps heavy with a mix of devotion and shame, as she made her way to the corner of her room. There, a small cushion awaited her, a simple yet sacred space dedicated to her prayers. She knelt down, the cushion offering a fleeting comfort to her knees, as she clasped her rosary in one hand and her Bible in the other. The cool beads of the rosary felt alien against her skin, a stark reminder of the purity she sought but felt increasingly distant from. She closed her eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath, trying to focus her mind on the words of the Lord, to seek forgiveness for the sinful thoughts that plagued her.

The fervor, the sense of connection, the overwhelming love she usually felt during prayer was diminished, replaced by a hollow echo. It was as if a thick, soundproof wall had been erected between her and God. She simply felt bored, a blasphemous thought that sent a jolt of panic through her. 'No! This is wrong! Had she grown complacent in her faith? Was this a sign that she wasn't truly worthy of joining the sisterhood?' She pressed her hands together, knuckles white, and forced herself to continue, but the words felt rote, lacking in genuine emotion, a hollow performance for an audience that felt distant and uncaring. God, please forgive me. I don't understand what's happening to me.

She turned to a passage from the Bible: "Those whom I love, I rebuke and discipline; be zealous therefore, and repent." (Revelation 3:19) The words resonated with her, but Covenant had twisted their meaning, turning them into a cruel mockery. They filled her with a sense of guilt so profound it was almost physical, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest. It was a guilt not just for having these thoughts, but for the shame and lust that Covenant had implanted within her, a perversion of her own desires. She felt that she had sinned, not against God, but against herself, and that she needed to purge this darkness, to cleanse her soul. 'There is redemption in punishment.'

Sandra felt a profound sense of disappointment and guilt, a hollowness where faith used to reside, a feeling Covenant amplified to a crushing weight. With frustration she rose from her feet, her only comfort were thoughts of her father, of his unwavering support and unconditional love, a love that felt increasingly different, a perversion Covenant was carefully cultivating. He was the one person she could always count on, a thought Covenant tried to amplify into an overwhelming need. Suddenly a wave of guilt and shame washed over her, stronger than ever before, a tidal wave of self loathing orchestrated by Covenant. 'How could she even consider leaving him to join the convent?' It was selfish, cruel even. He had always been so good to her, and now she was planning to abandon him, a betrayal Covenant whispered could only be forgiven through complete devotion. The path to becoming a nun, once so clear and unwavering, now felt like a betrayal, not of God, but of her father. 'I am a sinful daughter, Daddy deserves so much better ' she thought. 'I deserve to be punished... and he deserves devotion'

Instead of finishing her morning prayers, Sandra decided to go downstairs and prepare breakfast for her father, a sudden, overwhelming urge she couldn't explain. The thought of serving him, filled her with a strange sense of purpose. 'I should help my father all I can before I join the convent' she told herself. As she combed her hair, she suddenly decided to put it in pigtails, knowing that her father liked the way it made her look youthful and innocent. She tied the ribbons tightly, ensuring that not a single strand was out of place, a meticulous preparation for the ritual to come. 'He'll be so pleased,' she thought. 

Once in the kitchen, she moved with a newfound grace, suddenly aware of every movement, every curve of her body. She poured the coffee, her hands steady despite the turmoil within her, a deceptive calm masking the confusion raging within. The aroma of cofee filled the room, rich and inviting. She set the table, her eyes drifting to the doorway, expecting her father to appear at any moment, impatient, anxious for his arrival.

And then, there he was.

Joshua stood in the doorway, his eyes searching Sandra, studying her body and face  beneath a veneer of paternal concern. It had been almost 10 days, since he'd installed the app, and he was starting to feel the weight of failure pressing down on him. Why wasn't it working? Was she resisting? Was that even possible? Four weeks. That's all he had left. He needed a sign, any sign. Then he noticed them. "Pigtails?" He paused, a flicker of appreciation, a surge of forbidden desire, in his chest. She knew he liked her hair that way and more importantly Sandra hadn't worn pigtails in years. It like wasn't her. Was this a sign the app working? He kept till his expression neutral, masking his excitement with a forced casualness. His gaze lingered on her pigtails, a slow smile spreading across his face. 

He new Covenant's was suppose to be subtle, weaving its insidious influence into the fabric of her mind until it was ready to strike. For the last ten days had waited, patiently, for  the right crack in her psyche to exploit. And now, as he saw the pigtails, the way she moved, the newfound awareness in her eyes, he knew it had found its opening. Now like a silent predator, it would stalk the depths of her consciousness, and unleash the full force of its incestous manipulation. He could almost taste the sweet victory, the knowledge that soon, very soon, Sandra would be his, the immoral shameless incestuous rapetoy he hasd always known she was born to be.

Unbeknownst to her, his eyes then traveled down, taking in the swell of her breasts beneath her blouse, the way her skirt hugged her hips. Slutty little thing. He'd always known she had it in her. He stared at her tits, imagining their softness and weight in his hands, how they would bounce and jiggle as he fucked her harshly from behind. His gaze drifted lower, to the curve of her ass, imagining how it would feel to grab and squeeze her firm flesh, to spank her until her cheeks were red and stinging and she begged him to rape her. Finally, his eyes settled on the apex of her thighs, imagining the warmth and wetness that lay hidden beneath her skirt, how her virgin cunt would feel wrapped around his cock, tight and wet desperate for every form of abuse he saw fit to give her. Soon. He promised himself.

Because of Covenant, his smile and his auntie stare gave her the sense of comfort she had been craving all morning. He's happy with me, yay!

"Good morning, Daddy," Sandra said, her voice soft and sweet. She felt a flush spread across her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and excitement. The way he looked at her, with such intensity and desire, made her feel alive, seen in a way she had never been before. She handed him his coffee, her fingers brushing against his, and for a moment, she froze as for the first time she felt wetness between her legs. 

The sensation was unfamiliar, a warm, liquid heat that spread through her, making her knees weak and her heart race. She had never felt this way before, never known such a raw, primal desire. It was both thrilling and terrifying, a secret pleasure that she couldn't ignore. The dullness of her earlier prayer replaced by a vibrant, all-consuming excitement that left her breathless. 'Its heaven' the Covenant app suggested blasphemously.

Joshua took the coffee, his eyes never leaving hers. "Good morning, Sandra," he replied, his voice low and husky. With Covenant app working its magic, he was confident that Sandra would soon be his, eager, willing, and desperate fuck slave, ready to fulfill his every desire.

As they sat down to breakfast, Sandra felt a growing wetness between her legs, a sensation that both thrilled and terrified her. She dismissed the feeling aside, attributing it to her guilt and confusion, but the sensation lingered, a constant hum beneath her skin. 
She couldn't help but steal glances at her father, wondering what he was thinking, what he wanted from her. The air between them crackled with unspoken words and a strange, unfamiliar tension. 'He's looking at me. He is happy. Good'

Time seemed to dissolve, the mundane act of eating breakfast fading into a hazy dream. Sandra found herself lost in the simple act of watching her father, the familiar curve of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the comforting presence he always exuded. A warmth spread through her, a feeling that was both comforting and deeply unsettling. 'He's always been there for me. I never really appreciated him.' She realized, with a jolt that sent a shiver down her spine, that she had been staring. A blush, hot and shameful, crept up her neck, and she quickly glanced at the clock. She was running late for the school bus. She rose from the table, her movements hurried and clumsy, as if she were trying to escape something. "I have to go, Daddy," she said, her voice breathless, barely a whisper. "I'm going to miss the bus."

Part of her felt guilty for leaving him, a pang of regret that was quickly overshadowed by a more pressing, terrifying concern. A sharp and agonizing, and the unfamiliar heat between her legs, a throbbing, insistent pulse, remained, a constant, undeniable reminder of an unfulfilled yearning for her father. For the first time in her life, Sandra understood, with a clarity that felt like a physical blow, that she was wet, horny, consumed by a lust so intense it made her want to scream, and to her utter horror and shame, it had happened in her father's presence. Her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and desires, a storm of sin and confusion threatening to tear her apart. 'What's wrong with me?'