Chapter 14

That Saturday afternoon, Daddy gave me instructions for the evening. “Have a light supper before dinner, Kenna, because you will not be eating with Kyle and me. You’ll be serving us, that’s all. You’ll wear your new French maid’s outfit, your collar, your belly chain, and your highest heels, and you’ll stand or kneel beside me when you’re not doing anything else.”

I knew better than to object to his orders. I was completely in love with my father, and whatever he wanted was fine with me. “Yes, Daddy.”

The outfit he’d bought for me was a scandalous form of the classic. It included a shelf bra that left my nipples exposed and didn’t provide for much support. Fortunately, I didn’t really need support, because my large breasts were very firm. The skirt was very short and the hem rested just below my ass cheeks. Daddy didn’t want me wearing panties, only a pair of sheer black, lace top, thigh-hi stockings. It was like the porn-star version of a serving-maid’s costume.

Just like before Easter dinner, I ensured the house was spotlessly clean and then I set the table with our fine china, silver flatware, and crystal wine glasses. Once the house was ready, I ate, showered, and did my hair and makeup. I left my hair down and curled it into soft waves that fell over my shoulders. Just as I finished putting on my collar and chain, Daddy came into our bedroom. He walked up to me, took me into his arms, and kissed me, and I molded my body to his and relaxed into his embrace. Then he released me, brought his hands up to my breasts, and gently rubbed my nipples, teasing them into full hardness. I moaned, feeling my breathing start to quicken and my pussy start to moisten, but then he stopped and reached into his pants pocket.

“I want you to wear these also,” he said, holding up a set of chain-connected tweezer-style clamps.

“Yes, Sir, whatever you wish,” I responded, and he proceeded to tighten the clamps on my nipples until they pinched enough to hold them in place. I winced as he tightened each one, but it seemed they were more for decoration than for intensity. At least for now, I thought. I know Daddy well enough by now to make no predictions about what might happen later.

When the doorbell rang, Daddy told me to wait in the kitchen until he and Kyle were seated. I watched and listened until the appropriate time, then proceeded slowly into the dining room carrying a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc that I’d opened a couple of minutes earlier. The chain dangling from my belly slid back and forth across the front of my thighs as I walked, brushing across my pussy on each pass. Kyle looked up when I entered the room, and his eyes widened and his smile broadened as I approached him.

“Well, well,” he said, “don’t you look nice this evening, Kenna.”

“Thank you, Kyle,” I replied as I poured wine for him.

“That’s a very interesting outfit you’re wearing,” he continued. “I have to say it’s intriguing.”

“In what way?” Daddy interjected. I left Kyle’s side and went to pour wine for my father.

“It’s intriguing because it suggests more than just sexuality,” Kyle answered. “It gives me a sense that there’s something deeper than just ... I don’t know, something more intense, maybe.”

“You’re close,” Daddy told him. “Her outfit is indeed intended to send a message that’s more than just sexual. Your sister is a natural slut, and now she’s my slut, and I can’t wait for this pandemic to subside so I can see her at her best. But there’s much more to her than that.”

I loved the way they were talking about me as if I wasn’t even in the room. It was unsettling at first, the last time Kyle was here, but now I felt calm and relaxed. I was in my place and I felt comfortable around the men that I knew I’d soon be pleasing. Even though I’d finished pouring the wine, Daddy hadn’t sent me to bring out the appetizers, so I was still standing next to him. I felt a little blush break over my face as he and Kyle continued talking about me.

“Well, from what I saw and experienced at Easter, I know she’s submissive, at least to you,” Kyle said. “Is there more to it than that?”

“Yes, there is. Kenna is not only a slut and a submissive. Over the past weeks I’ve learned that she’s also a pain-slut.”

Now I was really blushing. “Wow. Really?” Kyle exclaimed. I looked down, feeling deeply embarrassed. It shouldn’t have surprised me that my father would tell my brother such intimate things about my sexuality, but maybe on some level it did.

“Yes, really. I’ve spanked her, and flogged her, and done other things to her, and she just keeps getting wetter and more aroused. Do you like her nipple clamps and chain?” Daddy reached up and tugged gently on the chain, pulling my nipples down a couple of inches, and I felt a sudden trickle run down the inside of my thigh. “See, she’s dripping already, and this doesn’t even really hurt her. The pain and pleasure centers in the brain are very close together, and in some people, including Kenna, the signals can get crossed.”