Chapter 23
The Dinner
Killian
I’m in the kitchen twenty minutes before dinner, wanting to see Jenna’s reaction when she comes and finds me here.
Dad told me she doesn’t know all three of us will be eating together, and with the way he’s been sheltering her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she thinks it will only be the two of them. She’s so na?ve. Always has been.
As expected, Jenna startles to a halt in the living room when she appears ten minutes later and sees me sitting at the dining table.
She’s wearing a strappy blush dress that hugs her breasts and waist perfectly, then spreads out in a billowy skirt.
I figure Dad must have gotten it for her since it looks way too expensive for her meager living.
I must say I agree with his taste. She looks incredibly cute.
All innocent and breakable. Everything I have avoided since that first night with her.
Rubbing my hand against my left pocket, I feel the outline of the toy I have there.
A ring gag. I push my other hand into my right pocket and fidget with the two other toys I’ve brought.
A vibrator egg and a small butt plug. Dad might want to keep her a “secondhand virgin,” as he calls it, but we’ve agreed that small toys like egg vibrators are okay.
I really don’t mind about the virgin thing; as long as I get to defile her ass, I’m a happy man.
I can’t wait to see her squirm when I stuff all three things inside her holes. Unable to hide my rapidly growing excitement, I flash her a wide smile. The effect is delicious. Worry widens her eyes, and she’s just about to turn and bolt, but Dad stops her.
“Go stand at the end of the table,” he tells her and points at the empty end, then continues placing glasses and silverware around the three plates on my end.
Watching me wearily, she takes a step forward, pauses, then lowers her gaze and hurries to the end of the table as if getting there fast will protect her from me.
She has no idea.
Folding her hands in front of her, she glues her eyes to the tabletop.
I keep watching her while Dad moves about, bringing pots and bowls to the table.
I want to take in the delicious food he has prepared as the rich scent of his Italian Bolognese drifts to my nose, but I want to unnerve Jenna even more.
And it works. Jenna starts fumbling nervously, pinching and rubbing the skin on her hands, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
At seven on the dot, Dad comes to stand behind the chair across from me.
“Dinner is ready, but first, we have a little something that needs to be prepared.”
Jenna casts a nervous glance at him, already knowing the thing in question is her.
“Bend over the table, Jenna, and pull up your skirt so Killian can plug your ass. There’s no sense in letting that hole go to waste while you’re sitting here.”
“What?” Her lips freeze in a shocked ‘O.’ Then she shakes her head. “Please don’t make me—”
Dad cuts her off. “Enough with the begging. You know better than to try to change my mind.”
Her head drops in defeat. She moves closer to the table, presses her hands to the surface, and bends over.
I go to stand behind her, enjoying the way her fear crackles through her tensing body.
Delicious anticipation builds within me when she slowly pulls her dress up, exposing her ass. Her naked ass.
I lick my lower lip. “Nice. No panties. Thanks, Dad.” I step closer and deliver a hard swat to her ass, enjoying how she yelps and clenches those sweet ass cheeks. I drag a finger through the crack. “No use in tensing like that; I’m getting in there whether you like it or not.”
Dad hands me a latex glove and a bottle of lube. “Slowly, Killian,” he insists.
I grin. He knows I’ve done enough anal play to understand the importance of going slow, and he knows this is one of the few disciplines besides piano playing where I have the patience to do it right.
I hate to break in an ass too fast and not get to use it properly before a girl goes all ballistic and screams her safeword, making Dad come rushing up the stairs.
No, the person he’s saying this for is Jenna. To let her know he’s her savior.
I don’t mind being the bad guy. Not at all. “Spread your ass for me, Jenna,” I say as I put on the glove, the latex snapping with a familiarity that sends a surge of anticipation through me. “Show me how badly you want me to stuff that tight hole.”
She lets out a choked whimper, but moves her hands behind her anyway and parts her cheeks.
I’m tempted to say good girl, but I’m going for a different effect tonight.
I squeeze a generous amount of lube onto her opening, enjoying the way she squirms uncomfortably at the cold sensation.
Then I take my time, smearing it around the rim, teasing and rubbing the sensitive skin at the edge—soaking up her whimpers and little squirms of protest. I love how much she hates this.
How humiliating it is for her. Most of the girls I’ve played with were so slutty they didn’t care which hole I used.
There was nothing humiliating about having their asses filled.
I had to tell them how filthy they were and really put in an effort to remind them how disgusting they were for wanting something in that opening before they even felt a flicker of embarrassment.
But with Jenna, the mere idea of someone touching her tiny asshole is horrible.
I have no idea why I haven’t sought out shy girls like Jenna instead of all those slutty ones. It really is so much better.
I stick the tip of my finger inside her opening and say, “You really love it when I use your ass, don’t you?”
Jenna whimpers like I just called her out for having toilet paper hanging from her pants. Just the effect I’m going for. My cock grows achingly hard, and a thought pops into my mind. Maybe the reason I’ve only played with slutty girls is that I’ve waited for her.
Driving my finger deeper, I focus on Jenna’s little pants and mewls to expel the idea from my mind, but it won’t go away completely.
If anything, it keeps building as Jenna grows more and more desperate, clawing at the table, shifting her legs, and turning her head from side to side.
It’s so easy to humiliate her, and I can’t get enough of it.
“Do you like it, princess?” I circle the rim of her opening, knowing how sensitive the spot is. Going deep isn’t always necessary if pleasure is the goal. “Do you like to feel me here again? I bet you’ve been dreaming about this since the first time I touched your ass, haven’t you?”
“No,” she wails, and the intensity of her protest almost surprises me, revealing that she indeed has thought about it. I honestly didn’t think she would have, remembering how utterly distraught she was when I sent her away.
I stick my ungloved hand between her legs and touch her opening. Dripping.
Shit. I almost can’t bear it. My cock throbs with the need to penetrate and claim.
I lower my voice to a growl. “Tell me the truth, Jenna. Have you been touching your dripping wet cunt in bed at night, turning off the lights to pretend it wasn’t real, coming to the memory of me filling out your ass.”
She cries out when I lean over her and push my finger all the way in.
Bringing my other hand between her legs, I flick a finger through her folds, making her shudder and pant with desire. “Tell me,” I repeat.
She goes completely still beneath me. I can feel all her muscles tensing as I lean my body against hers. Her answer is almost imperceptible. “Yes.”
Lifting my ungloved, now wet hand to her face, I grab her cheeks and rasp into her ear, “Louder. So Dad can hear what a dirty, bad little girl you’ve been.”
She draws two shuddery breaths, then releases the word with more sound. “Yes.”
“Yes what?” I smooth her hair from her face, marveling at the way she almost melts into my touch. It’s like her brain has shut off, forgetting what I did to her. Her body has taken over, and it only remembers how badly it craved the things I did to her—before I broke her.
“Yes, I’ve come to the idea of y-you touching me back there,” she admits in a shaky voice.
It’s like the air is sucked out of the room.
Jenna goes deadly still, and I go still too.
Glancing up at Dad, I find his jaw tight with something that looks like anger.
But I know that look. It’s the same one he wore all the times I paraded my girls down here in front of him.
He’s trying to rein in his desire. But unlike all those times, his eyes aren’t cold.
They’re full of fire, surprise, and even awe.
I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as I am. This girl is perfect for us.
A bit scared at the notion, I straighten and pull my finger out.
Then I make quick work of inserting the butt plug.
Her muscles are slack now, and the toy goes in without a fuss.
Then I insert the egg into her pussy. She barely even stirs at the sensation.
She just lies there, seemingly deep in subspace.
When I step away and take in the sight, her eyes are indeed glassy and unfocused. Seeing her like this does strange things to me. Part of me wants to pet her like a puppy and see her lean into my touch. But I quickly shove that urge down and focus on the other one. The need to humiliate and break.
Because I don’t do cuddling and caretaking. I only want the power and the control—to put Jenna where she belongs. Beneath me.