11. Yasmina
Yasmina
J afar grabs me behind my knees and drags me to the edge of the bed.
I fight, need spiking every time he overpowers me.
He flips me onto my stomach and jerks me half off the mattress so my toes barely touch the ground.
He kicks my feet wide and steps between my thighs before I can close them.
I curse and wriggle, but he’s got me pinned by the back of the neck before I can move an inch.
“Sloppy, baby girl. You gave me more of a fight last time.”
“Fuck you!”
He rips my dress up the back, baring me from the waist down, and delivers a stinging slap to first one cheek and then the other. “The proper response is ‘Fuck you, Daddy.’”
“Fuck you, Daddy .” It doesn’t come out as sharp as I’d like.
Instead, it’s dangerously close to a moan.
In my current position, I’m helpless. I can’t touch the floor enough to lever myself away, not with my legs spread like this.
Not with his hand on the back of my neck, pressing down just enough that I can’t escape.
“You’ve been bad, baby girl.” He delivers another stinging slap to my ass, the spike of pain shooting directly to my clit. “I should put you over my knee for that alone.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Do it. ? 1
His dark laugh is my only answer. “You keep telling me no, but your pussy is telling me yes.” He shoves two fingers into me, not easing me into it.
I cry out. I can’t help it. Just like I can’t help spreading my legs wider yet and arching my back to offer myself to him.
To allow him deeper. His thumb presses against my ass, a pressure that makes me freeze on instinct.
“Do you know what I thought about when I saw you walking in the halls of your father’s house? ”
Oh god.
“I don’t want to know.” I should have realized how it would go when I decided on playing this way, should have anticipated. I shove hard against the mattress, but he easily keeps me pinned in place, his low voice stripping me bare even as his fingers possess me in the most intimate way possible.
“How many times did we talk, baby girl? Every time you pretended you weren’t seeking me out, that this isn’t what you wanted.”? 2
“No. I didn’t want this.” Yes, yes, I did.
He still hasn’t moved his hand, still hasn’t done anything but apply more pressure to my ass. “You were asking for it.”
“No!”
“Yes.” He pushes a third finger into me. “Every time you had to get the last word, every time you walked away from me and twitched that ass in my direction, this is what you wanted.”
“Liar.”
His low chuckle has my toes curling. Just like that, he withdraws his fingers, and I can’t help a whimper of protest. Jafar steps closer to the bed, and then I can feel his cock through his slacks.
His weight presses me down against the mattress, almost, almost , giving my clit enough friction.
“Who’s the real liar, baby girl? You know what I think?
I think you wanted me to drag you into his office.
To shove up your skirt and rip off your panties. ”
“No,” I whisper. I can’t help it. I writhe, my hips seeking the friction I need to get off.
He shoves a hand between me and the mattress, the touch against my clit nearly sending me over the edge.
But he doesn’t move, doesn’t apply the pressure I need.
The new position puts his lips directly against my ear, and I can feel his words rumbling through his chest against my back.
“You wanted me to take it, to bend his virgin daughter over his desk and shove my cock into her tight little cunt. That way, you don’t have to admit it.
You can still be a good girl instead of the little slut we know you are. ”
I gasp, my body going so tight, I might orgasm from his words alone. I almost moan before I remember the game. It takes me two tries to wet my throat enough to find words. “I am a good girl.”
“You, baby girl, are a little slut.” He nips my earlobe. “You know how I know that?”
“How?” I whisper.
“I know that because you’re so desperate to grind against my fingers, your pussy is drenched. You want me to do it, to force you so you can keep pretending when we both know the truth.”
I roll my hips, the pressure of his fingers making me bite my bottom lip hard. “What’s the truth?”
“That I can fuck your mouth, your pussy, your ass, and you’ll love every second of it.
” Another nip to my earlobe. “That I can pull three people in here at random and let them fuck you however they feel like, and even as you tell yourself you don’t want it, that I took away your choice, you’ll come again and again and keep lifting your hips in invitation for more. That you can’t get enough.”
I lose my battle of resistance. I writhe, grinding against his fingers. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Meg will love licking that pretty pussy of yours. She’ll love doing it even more while you ride Hook’s cock and another man fucks your mouth.”
I don’t know who those people are, not really.
They’re strangers to me. It doesn’t seem to matter.
All I can do is imagine two cocks filling me, another mouth on my clit, and Jafar watching it all.
Directing it all. I fist the comforter and roll my hips harder, trying to find the right angle.
His hand shifts beneath me, and I freeze as he pinches my clit. Hard.
“So wanton.” The devil is Jafar’s voice in my ear, full of sin and promised pleasure. It might cost me my soul, but what is a soul in comparison with a night’s pleasure?
Just like that, the weight of him is gone. I press my forehead to the bed and work up the energy to stand. By the time I turn around, he’s composed himself. As if he wasn’t just spinning out a fantasy so dirty, I’m shaking just from imagining it.
He considers me. “You want to be forced, but the flavor is wrong.”
What’s he talking about?
My heart takes up residence in my throat, each beat pressing against the sensitive skin there and leaving me dizzy. “What?”
But he’s already moving to the door. “Stay here. This will only take a minute.”
For a moment, I think he’s joking, but he leaves the room, the door clicking shut softly behind him.
I sink onto the bed and stare down at my torn dress.
I was ready. I am ready. My body craves his with a strength that leaves me fighting not to chase him through the halls of this place and beg for the denied orgasm.
To beg for his cock. I have nothing left but my pride at this point, so I force myself still.
It’s only when the door opens again that I realize I was really forcing myself to obey. Except it’s not Jafar who walks into the room.
I blink. “Tink?”
“The one and only.” She shuts the door and turns, which is when I get a good look at what she’s wearing.
Or really what she’s not. A lace slip hugs her curves, barely covering her breasts and ass, held in place only because it has garters on the side attached to thigh-highs.
It’s sexy, but that’s not what has me fighting not to stare.
She’s not wearing anything underneath.
She smirks at me. “For someone who put on a cute little show out in the main room, you’re awfully easy to shock.”
“You saw that?”
“Princess, everyone saw that.” She tosses several articles of clothing onto the bed next to me. “Jafar wants you to put these on and follow me.”
Questions bubble up to press against the inside of my lips, but I keep them inside. I have a feeling Tink won’t tell me. More than that, I either trust Jafar in this place or I don’t. I cautiously lift the plaid skirt. Oh.
“Schoolgirl is sexy. I’m not even going to lie.” Tink pauses. “Do you want me to turn around?”
“Why? You’ve seen everything.” I stand on shaking legs and strip out of the red dress.
The clothing is missing a few essential items—namely a bra—but I’m surprised to find white panties included.
I expect cotton, but this is a lace thong that is just as minuscule as the skirt.
I pull on the panties and skirt, which barely covers my ass.
The shirt, however, gives me trouble. “I don’t… ”
“Here.” Tink brushes my hands to the side, undoes the buttons I’ve been struggling with, and ties it under my breasts instead.
She steps back and shakes her head. “Yeah, you look hot for teacher. Wait, one more thing.” She pulls a hair tie off her wrist and moves around behind me. “This is easier if you kneel.”
I obey without thinking and wait as she pulls my hair back into a tight ponytail.
Tink squeezes my shoulder. “Check yourself out, princess.”
I stand and walk to the mirror and… “Wow.” I can see my dark nipples through the thin fabric of the white shirt, and tying it up has left a large swathe of my stomach barred.
The skirt looks even tinier than it feels, and as I move experimentally, I flash white panties.
I turn around and, yes, the lower curve of my ass is clearly visible. “I look indecent.”
“That’s kind of the point.” She moves to the door. “Come on. He’s waiting.”
I know what fantasy we’re playing out now. It’s not a schoolteacher like Tink thinks. It’s the one Jafar growled into my ear.
I have to fight not to clench my thighs together as I follow Tink out of the room. She leads me farther down the hall and points to a door. “This one.” She grins. “Have fun, princess.”
I carefully open the door and step into the room.
Shock has my feet growing roots and my fingers going slack to release the door.
The room is a gentleman’s office. Thick carpet beneath my feet, one wall lined with books and the other containing several framed landscape prints.
Leather chairs sit opposite a massive mahogany desk that’s polished until it shines.
A single lamp in the corner offers little in the way of illumination.
It’s not an exact match to my father’s office, but it’s close enough to evoke the feeling I always got when I was called there.
Shame. Anger. Fear.