Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Stop,” I demanded in a low tone.
The room was loud with conversation, and I didn’t want to draw attention our way. It would only fuel my father’s need to show off more.
He pulled away and wiped at his mouth as he stood. “Fishy.” He put a single chopstick at her entrance and pushed it inside of her. “Not my taste at all.”
Grace gasped, her eyes closed, but she quickly composed her position without anyone noticing but my father and me.
He began to push the chopstick in and out of her as he watched me closely. I could tell he wanted to see just how much this bothered me, but I would never give that power over to him.
Instead, I took another drink and swallowed the fury down deep inside of me.
“You care too much about this slut,” he said, molesting her hole even more with the utensil, but she didn’t move in the slightest. “Which is your first of many mistakes. The belles are nothing but a plaything for us. It’s not like they are marrying material or anything. They aren’t worthy of anything more than jamming something up inside a hole of theirs. They don’t deserve our respect, or even a second thought. They are simply a means to the end.”
The chopstick continued to fuck her, and I had to fight the urge to kill. I could only imagine what poor Grace was going through.
“As opposed to the women we marry? Like Mama? You clearly respect her right now.”
“Son, you still have so much to learn.”
I could never have admitted my true feelings about my father until I began this Initiation. I’d wanted to love him. I’d desperately wanted him to love me. I’d also wanted to make him proud. He was my father, and I had just accepted him for being… well, for being anything but a real father. But I refused to admit how I truly felt about him to anyone, including myself.
Until now…
I hated the fucking man.
He could make me feel so little, weak, and ashamed with one simple sentence. He treated my mother like shit and had cheated on her their entire marriage no doubt. He violated Grace right in front of me because he knew he could. He had the power, and I didn’t. Rage burned inside, and all I could do was watch on.
But I also knew I needed to stop playing his sick game at the moment. A tactical retreat was needed… for now.
His goal was to try to get me to quit or to force Grace to quit, and I wasn’t going to allow it to happen. Not on his terms.
So, as hard as it was, I turned my back… on Grace… and walked away. If my father lost his audience, I hoped he would move on to something more entertaining and at least Grace wouldn’t have to be fucked with a stick any longer.
And if I didn’t walk away, and I didn’t go chat with my friends and act like I was enjoying the party, I would break. I would ruin this not only for me, but for Grace. And since the strong woman simply lay on the table, and didn’t budge in the slightest, the least I could do was control my temper.
Luckily, the sake was strong and poured freely, because the night ended earlier than normal with all the old fucks stumbling home or to one of the guest rooms to sleep off the stupor.
Mrs. H and some servers had already wheeled the table with Grace on it out of the room, and I knew she would be upstairs waiting for me. I said my goodbyes to the few friends I had left in the room, and felt the overwhelming urge to punch my fist through a wall.
Storming into the bedroom, I scanned it for Grace, but could hear the shower running in the bathroom. I hated myself. I hated everyone and everything. I wanted to scream. I wanted to beat someone. I wanted to fuck.
And fuck is what I would do.
At least I had some goddamn control over that.
Stripping down, I marched to the bathroom and joined Grace in the shower with no warning, and not asking permission.
The gentleman in me had literally been broken tonight. Now, all that was left was a boiling over inferno of darkness.
Grace jumped in surprise and dropped the soap in her hands. She didn’t scream, or demand for me to leave, which was good because it would have been all but impossible to comply. Instead, she took a step away from the stream of water to offer me more room.
I wasn’t mad at her. My anger was not directed toward her. But I was pissed as hell. I needed to take it out on someone. And since she was all I had… she would be my prey.