Sniffling, Jenna makes a quick nod.
“If you quit your job and move in here with us, I’ll continue teaching you and getting you ready for the competition in September.”
Her eyes dart up to me, shocked and worried but also glimmering with careful hope. While I continue, the concern takes over, tightening her brows and making her hands jitter.
“When you live under my roof, you’ll abide by my rules. You’ll have to pay rent, but instead of a monetary contribution, you may pay in terms of service.”
“What kind of service?” she asks in a small voice.
I lower my chin to imbue my message with seriousness. “Any kind of service we may ask for.”
Shaking her head, she lifts a hand to cover her mouth.
“That’s right, princess, anything,” Killian says, about to reach for her throat, but stopping at my warning look.
Her shoulders draw up to her ears, and the shaking of her head becomes so bad I think she’s about to have a panic attack.
“There are boundaries,” I say, suppressing the urge to go to her. As much as I want to hold her, she’ll have to get used to the idea of Killian being part of this as well, or it won’t work. I’m not going to let him unleash his ruthless sadism on her from thestart, but she has to show us she can give in to him. If I’ve read her right, she can. At least, if we ease her into it.
“No blood or permanent scars,” I explain. “No excrement. And nothing so degrading that you can’t come back from it.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that we will push you, but we won’t break you beyond repair.”
She keeps shaking her head. “I-I can’t. There’s no… There’s just no way.”
“Are you sure?” I press.
Killian casts me a questioning look, and I give him a go-ahead nod, knowing what he means.
With a bit more eagerness than I’d like, he slips his hand onto her neck. She yelps, jumping like a scared little rabbit.
Carefully, I mouth to him. This is the crucial moment. She might be desperate to play the piano again, but if Killian triggers a trauma response in her, there’s nothing we can do to make her agree. We need to remind her that she liked what he did to her.
Slowly, he moves his hand to the front, wrapping it around her throat in a snug fit that forces her head back. Her fingers tap wildly at her thighs, and she squeezes her eyes shut to avoid eye contact. She’s about to close in on herself, but I won’t let her.
“Look at him,” I demand in a sharp tone.
She draws a shuddery breath, struggling to obey, but her natural submissive instincts kick in—the work I’ve done these past two weeks wins out. I’ve been conditioning her, rewarding her with my touch when she obeyed a direct order. Seeing how beautifully it has worked as she slowly peels her eyes open makes me smile.
“He’s not going to hurt you. He’s just going to hold you like that while I talk. So just keep watching him and listen to my voice. Can you do that?”
She gives the tiniest nod against his hand, her nostrils flaring with the speed of her rapid breaths.
“When Killian took you upstairs five years ago, you enjoyed what he did to you.”
“I didn’t,” she blurts.
“You did. I saw the video.”
“No,” she gasps.
Killian lifts his hand to stroke her cheek, and her shoulders soften a little. I’m happy to see that he’s taken some of my advice to heart.
“You asked him to gag you. And from what I saw, that wasn’t a scared girl being pressured into asking. You wanted him to fill your mouth.”
“I didn’t,” she protests again.
