Hesitantly, I round the piano, and the moment I see the new piano bench beside the regular one, I freeze. It’s a simple black bench. No padding. Just a clean, shiny surface—with a long, wooden phallus sticking up in the middle.
“This is not funny,” I say, shaking my head.
“That goes inside your ass.” Killian points at the horrible wooden protrusion, his grin widening.
The blood drains from my face, and I retreat a step.
Killian scoffs. “I’ve stuffed your ass three times, and you’re still acting like a prim little princess instead of the greedy little ass slut we all know you are.”
I retreat two more steps. Straight into Ian, who grabs my upper arms.
“Ask Killian—very nicely—to help you try your new bench.”
I swallow against the thick knot in my throat, staring at the bench for a long moment before I part my lips. “I-I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can.” Ian leans close to my ear. “You’re a good girl. You’ll show the appropriate gratitude, and you’ll ask nicely for help.”
“I—” I want to protest, but Ian’s words somehow make it impossible.
“Go on,” he urges.
Closing my eyes, I draw a shuddery breath. “Will you please—” I start in a shaky voice.
“Look at me,” Killian demands.
My shoulders bunch up, but Ian’s tightening grip sucks the tension straight out again. I sink into him, seeking his stability as I lift my gaze to Killian and my world crashes. “Will you…”I swallow to clear the hoarseness from my voice, but it lingers. “Will you please help me try out my new bench?”
“Of course, princess.” With a slight bounce to his movements, Killian turns and grabs a latex glove and a bottle of lube. Facing me again, he demonstratively holds up his right hand as he drags the black latex over it, smiling excitedly as he goes. Then he opens the lube and squeezes a generous amount onto the wooden phallus.
When he wraps his fist around it and starts pumping, I can’t stand it anymore. Jerking against Ian’s grip, I try to turn around, but he drapes an arm over my chest and presses his other hand to my forehead, effectively trapping me. “Watch,” he demands.
I give another jerk, but it gets me nowhere.
Killian makes a show out of preparing the dildo, squeezing more lube onto it to create a slick sound when he moves his hand up and down and turns his fist.
My hands fly up to grab onto Ian’s arm. Not to fight—I’ve already given up—but to hold on as everything spins around me. I sink into him, drinking in his warmth and his strength, even knowing he’s no better than the man watching me with an evil smirk. But Ineedhis stability, or I won’t get through this.
“Please…” I say when Killian finally releases the dildo and makes a deceptively chivalrous gesture toward it.
Ian grabs my arms to steer me forward. “You’re not getting out of this.”
Digging my heels in, I shake my head. “That’s not what I meant.” My voice becomes low, almost imperceptible. “Please, can I have a hug?”
Killian scoffs, but Ian pauses and turns me around. “Repeat that so I can hear it.”
I swallow through the hoarseness and look up at him. “Please, will you hug me first?”
A smile softens his stern expression. “Of course.”
Ian pulls me into him, and I wrap my hands around his shirt, holding on for dear life. My anchor in the storm.
When he releases me, I say sincerely, “Thank you.”
He brushes his knuckles down my cheek. “You’re welcome. Now, be a good girl and go to Killian so you can try my gift for you.”
I nod, and in that brief moment, I almost feel thankful—like it truly is a gift. But the gratitude dissolves when I turn around and approach the horrible thing.
Killian grabs my arm when I stop close to the bench. His grip is more punishing than his father’s, fingers digging into my flesh and aching in my muscles. But it makes me want to give up and give in just the same. Because the dominance is there too. The uncompromising authority that snuffs out my will and makes me easy prey for these two predators.