When I glance up, I see a smile spreading over his lips. It’s cruel and condescending, but it also holds so much power and desire that I can’t deny the effect it has on me.
“Are you gonna show me how sorry you are by letting me stuff your ass in front of Dad?” Killian asks.
Tears spring to my eyes for the hundredth time today as I close my eyes and accept that I’ve lost—to my own warped body and to these two men.
“Yes.”
14
The Scorn
Killian
Age fifteen
“Hi Killian,” Jenna says, walking down the hall with a spring to her step on our lunch break, hugging a stack of books.
“Stop fucking looking at me like that,” I tell her as she all but beams at me. “It’s pathetic.” I’m not someone she should smile at. I’m always mean to her, yet she keeps smiling and acting like we’re friends.
“I’m sorry,” she says, face falling, eyes dropping to the ground.
Like I said, pathetic.
Just as I pass her, she glances up at me, and that hurt expression lodged in her eyes makes her look like a fucking puppy.
I look after her as she disappears into the classroom. Maybe I should put a fucking leash on her and make her crawl around on the floor. My cock stirs at the thought of humiliating her like that. She could be the puppy I always wanted as a kid, although a different kind. She’d be sitting there on her knees, looking up at me like I was her God, her tongue hanging from her mouth,eager to suck my cock and taste my cum. Then I would come all over her face instead. Maybe that would wipe the ridiculous smile off her face.
It doesn’t seem like a bad idea as the idea unfurls. Jenna needs to learn her place. Beneath me. She hasn’t won a single one of the many piano competitions she has entered. She has plenty of silver and bronze trophies, but the golden ones are all mine.
I wonder what would happen if I crowded Jenna in the ladies’ room and put a collar and leash on her. Would she scream? Struggle when I pushed her to her knees?
Nah, Jenna would bare her throat and willingly let me collar her if I told her to do so. Always such a pleaser. A naïve, little girl. I’d love to drag her through the halls on a leash so everyone can see how pathetic she is.
I chuckle to myself. One day, I’m going to teach pathetic little Jenna where she belongs. I can’t wait.
15
The Exposure
Killian
Seeing Jenna lower her head in submission and say the word I want to hear—yes—makes my cock grow achingly hard. There’s something utterly tantalizing about having her ask me to do the most vile, humiliating things to her. I almost can’t believe I have her here again, at my mercy.
I’ve played with lots of girls since that night five years ago, constantly chasing that same high. Women my age, older women, girls I picked up at bars, girls I met online, some I paid, and some so cheap I didn’t have to give them a penny. You name it, I’ve done it—as long as they were willing to let me do kinky shit to them. But no matter how many girls I’ve whipped, gagged, or fucked in the ass, I haven’t come close to reaching that same high of the first night with Jenna. I’ve even dragged girls downstairs by a leash with cum and spit all over their faces to relish in their utter humiliation when I presented them to Dad and made them kiss his shoes. Still, nothing compared.
I had come to the conclusion that it must be because that night with Jenna was my first kinky experience. Or maybe it was the added rush of ruining her life. But as I watch hernow, vulnerable and eager to please, I realize neither was the problem. Before that night with Jenna, I found her meek and demure. A pathetic little pleaser. And that was exactly what made the thrill so high. Tainting all that pure innocence.
Dad leaves the room and comes back a moment later, handing me a small steel butt plug. I smile at the sight of the pink gem at the base. It’s perfect for innocent Jenna.
I don’t know how Dad and I came to be comfortable about sharing sexual experiences like this. Maybe it stems from the fact that we’ve always been close. Growing up and spending all my free time playing the piano, I didn’t have many friends, and Dad was often the only person I’d see outside school for weeks, and he always travelled with me abroad for piano competitions and recitals. When I found his toys at the age of sixteen, he openly answered all my questions. And those toys were the solution when Jenna became a threat to everything I—we—had worked for. And since I had to tell him all about the precarious situation and what I’d done—how it turned me on and made me come all over her—kink became a natural subject between us.
Forcing my play partners downstairs and presenting them to him was probably what solidified the pattern. Dad was visibly outraged the first time, but when I told the girl to lick his shoes, he couldn’t resist. He’s as fucked up as I am in that way. Or maybe it’s the other way around. After all, he’s the one who has taught me all the finer details of how to make a woman bend to my will and accept the degrading things I want to subject her to. We’ve never shared a woman, but my eagerness to learn—and his eagerness to make sure I don’t cross too many limits—has made BDSM a common subject at the dinner table. And he was the one who gave me the advice that made our initial plan with Jenna unfurl seamlessly. It was only a few hurried tips, but I took them to heart as my default approach of getting wavering girls to accept the shitty things I wanted to do to them.Talksoftly and treat her like a princess and she’ll be like putty in your hands.
I can be patient like that to make sure I’ll get what I want in the end, but with Jenna, I’ve already waited too long. I’m sick of all the times Dad has said the words ‘slow and gentle’ when planning this exact moment. But as much as I’m sick of it, I’m also too eager to have her to risk fucking it up, so I rein in the fiery need burning in my veins when I tell her to get into position.
“Lean over. Ass in the air so Dad can really get a good view.”
A surge of triumph rushes through me when she gingerly leans forward, presses her hands to the floor, and lifts her ass. She has no idea what she’s in for. After five years of practice, I’ve become quite the skilled humiliator. I’m nothing like Dad yet—I haven’t mastered that steadfast patience that can make a woman give in to anything—but I know how to wield the tools I have at my disposal.