Chapter 18
The Full Disclosure
Ian
The orgasm knocks Jenna out. I don’t think she’s sleeping, but her body is loose and pliant as I move to sit against the headboard and arrange her between my legs. I’m not surprised it hit her hard. The orgasm was intense, and from what I understand, it’s the first one she got from another person.
And just like I took her first real orgasm, I’ll be the first man to take her secondhand virginity. But not yet. I want to savor her innocence and draw out the anticipation. But I will be the one to claim it.
A possessive warmth rolls through me as I brush her hair back and angle myself to watch her—eyes closed, soft lips parted slightly, breathing slow and even. She looks innocent. Unsullied. I want to keep her that way. A young, lost woman who needs caretaking.
I don’t know why that idea gets my cock hard all over again, just when it was about to calm down. I’ve never had a thing for younger women—especially not as young as Jenna—but something about her pulls me in and makes me want to protect and possess even as I tarnish and tear.
Once Jenna starts coming to, I remove the chain and carry her to the en suite bathroom and place her on the closed toilet. She doesn’t say anything as I move around to find a washcloth and soak it in warm water.
I sink to my haunches in front of her and gently push her legs apart. “Such a mess you made down here,” I say at the sight of the glistening moisture. There’s so much that it still hasn’t dried.
She barely responds, just bites her lip and lowers her head, embarrassed.
“No makeup when you’re downstairs with me,” I tell her as I bring the cloth to her pretty pussy and drag it down the sides, through her slit, and wash her lips one at a time.
“No pants or pantyhose, like Killian said, and only soft colors like dusty pink, white, and baby blue. Once I start sending you upstairs for Killian to play with, the rules may be different, if he desires, but down here with me, I want you pure and bare.”
She swallows hard but nods her agreement.
“All done.” I pat the inside of her thigh.
“Now, go find something to eat, then come to my office once you’re done, and we’ll talk more about this new arrangement.
You may take a T-shirt from the closet on the right.
It should be big enough to provide you with some coverage.
” As much as I like her exposed, she needs some sense of protection as I send her off to roam a new house on her own.
She gingerly gets to her feet and walks toward the door. Lifting her hand to touch the collar, she pauses, then turns.
“What about this?”
I push up to stand, letting her feel the physical difference as I tower over her. “You’re property now. The collar will serve as a reminder.”
***
Forty minutes later, Jenna is sitting on the couch in my office, wearing one of my gray T-shirts that easily covers all her private parts. She’s carefully perched on the edge, hands folded in her lap, gaze lowered.
I finish setting a stop-loss on a volatile trade—another calculated risk in a world that doesn’t care about harmony or grace—then go sit in the recliner across from her.
“How are you feeling?” I start.
She lifts her shoulders in a confused motion. “I don’t know.”
“You’re a smart girl, Jenna. Use your words.
Waitressing for a couple of years hasn’t deteriorated that brain of yours.
” Back when she was in school with Killian, I knew she was a competition to him in more areas than just the piano, and the theoretical understanding of music she has shown in our lessons tells me she still has a good head.
Brows drawing tight, she stares at the ground, her head twitching as she considers.
“Take your time. You’re still in shock and in subspace; you’re not going back to the piano for a few hours.”
The information seems to relieve some of the pressure, softening the tension on her face. Finally, she lifts her gaze and says, “Confused.” Her soft voice has my cock stirring again, even though I took a detour to the bathroom to relieve the pressure while she was in the kitchen.
“That’s understandable. A lot has happened today.”
She bites her lips, dropping her gaze to her folded hands. “Not just today. These last two weeks.” She lets her gaze drift back up, full of vulnerable honesty. “These last two weeks—everything you did—was that to get me here?”
I suppress a smile. I was right. She still is a smart girl. “It was.”
Her brows draw tight again. “Why?”
“Killian wanted you, so I gave you to him.”
Her face falls, and a wounded expression clouds her gaze.
I rather enjoy seeing her like this, unguarded and vulnerable, and I consider leaving her under the impression that Killian is the only reason she’s here.
But I sense a current of abandonment inside her that reaches deep into her very foundation, and I don’t want to tear her down and break her spirit.
Messing with these kinds of emotions is not the way to toy with her. At least not now.
So I add, “I do too.”
Her eyes widen with hope, just before she lowers them, clearly not wanting me to see. It’s no surprise. I’ve teased her with my desire for two weeks and kept her doubting whether I wanted her.
“I’m willing to do a lot of things for my son. But what I did to you in the bedroom is not something I’d do unless I desired it. Do you understand?”
She nods but doesn’t seem quite convinced.
I wave my hand for her to approach. “Come, sit on my lap.”
She hesitantly crosses the space between us and lowers herself to perch on my knee. Grabbing her waist, I hoist her onto my lap, shifting her to sit right on my hardening cock, which swells further under the exquisite firmness of her ass.
“Do you feel that?”
She gasps, and I let out a laugh.
“You really are an innocent little one. Almost like a child in a grown woman’s body. Tell me, how many hard cocks have you seen or felt?”
Pressing a hand to the side of her head, she hides from me. “This is so, so wrong.”
“It is,” I agree. “And that’s part of the reason why my cock is hard. Now answer my question.”
“One, two... three if I count yours,” she says. “I’m not sure the second one counts.”
Realization strikes a moment later. “Ah. Killian’s cock?”
She nods.
“Well, you felt his sperm all over your back, so that one definitely counts.”
She shudders. “This is sick.” The disgust in her voice seems to lend her a little strength, and she straightens her spine and removes the hand from her face. But she keeps her gaze averted, staring stiffly at the tall window and the view over the city beyond my garden.
I trail my fingers down the length of her spine. “That’s debatable. But I suggest you find a way to accept this situation, because you’re stuck in it.”
“How?” She turns to look me straight in the eye.
“Coming out of subspace, are we?” I say with amusement as she all but glares at me.
She gives a shake of her head. “What is that?”
“Subspace is when a submissive, like you, reacts so strongly to a Dominant that she sinks into a daze. It affects people differently, but it often dulls the mind and the senses. Sometimes, it even impedes the ability to walk and talk. You went quite deep this morning.”
“I’m not submissive,” she tries to deny, but the shame in her eyes tells me she already knows I’m right.
I grab her chin. “Tread very carefully, young lady. If you weren’t so inexperienced, I’d consider that a lie.”
Her jaw hardens, and her breathing comes faster through her nostrils as I keep her eyes locked on mine.
“You are submissive. Deeply even, it seems. Trying to run away from that will only make you miserable.”
Tears glaze her eyes, and she blinks rapidly to clear them away. “It hasn’t ever done me any good. I lost everything because of it.”
I stroke my thumb along her jaw, trailing my eyes over her delicate features, her sloped nose, her full lips, and her heart-shaped face that adds to her child-like innocence.
“It’s also what will get you through this and back on track toward the dream you want to pursue.”
“How?” she asks, defeat deep in her voice.
“First off, it’s what made you enjoy what we did this morning—coming face-to-face with Killian again. It’s what brought you out of your mind, your anxiety, and all those festering norms and morals.”
“We have norms and morals for a reason.”
I stroke her cheek. “Sure. But sometimes, they are constricting to a degree of suffocation. They will be for you if you don’t let go of them.”
She stares off to the side, and a whole minute ticks by before she asks her next question. “Are you gonna let Killian abuse me again?”
“It won’t be abuse this time. He won’t leave you on your own.”
She draws a heavy sigh and presses her fingers to her eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. Leaving me on my own is not what made it abuse.”
“Trauma isn’t always defined by what happens, but by what follows.
The way people respond, or fail to, can shape the damage as much as the event itself can.
If Killian hadn’t shown you that video and had given you the care and connection you needed to feel safe afterward, it might never have become traumatic for you. You should think about that.”
She doesn’t respond, but I can tell from her flickering eyes that she’s listening.
“I’ll gradually involve Killian more in the piano lessons and let him play with you occasionally—under my supervision.
It will give your nervous system a chance to rewire, to start associating him with something other than the trauma.
I won’t send you upstairs until I believe you’re ready.
Down here, it’s my domain—my rules. Upstairs, he’s in control.
But understand this: if I think he’s going too far, I will step in, no matter where you are.
” I give her a moment to process before continuing.
“As for the piano lessons, we’ll continue like we’ve done this far, but without your work intervening.
You do, however, have to quit and solve the issue of your two-week notice. I suppose it is two weeks?”
She nods.
“I suggest you hand in your resignation over email while also notifying your manager that you’re unwell and won’t be coming in. I’m sure he will easily accept that explanation since he’s already on the brink of firing you.”
Her jaw hardens, and she keeps staring stiffly into the distance. After a minute, she says, still not looking at me, “What about my flat?”
“That’s up to you. I don’t mind if you keep it, but I assume you can’t afford it since you won’t have any income for the next seven months.
If that’s the case, I’ll have someone pack it up and put all your things in storage.
I’ll pay for the space until our time here is up and the competition is over.
We can go there tonight, and you can pack the most necessary things.
If you don’t have the appropriate clothes to fit your new dress code, I’ll order some for you.
Anything else you need, I’ll take care of.
You’re under my roof now; that means you’ll obey and follow my rules, but it also means that you’re my responsibility. ”
I give her a minute to let it all sink in before I prompt, “Do you understand?”
She nods.
“Good. You have an hour now to do whatever you like. You may roam the bedroom, the music room, and the living and kitchen area however you like—except for the two closets on the left in the bedroom. Then go practice ‘Die Moldau’ for an hour, and I’ll be in at four o’clock to hear it. ” I tap her thigh. “Off you go.”
She scrambles off my lap as if I’m the plague.
I’m tempted to spank her for it, but I’ll hold back for now.
She needs time to come to terms with this new arrangement.
With the way she’s been reacting to my touch and my dominance, I’m thinking she’ll be putty in my hands within two weeks.
Killian might be a different matter, but I’ll get her there as well.