Family Dinner

You sit at the head of the table, a self-satisfied grin plastered on your face as you take in the aroma of Tsume's cooking. The tension in the room is thick, but you’re not fazed. By the smell alone Tsume really knows how to make some meat, and you expect to get blown by it... and by her, but later. Hana, on the other hand, is sits on your left, her face slightly red from the earlier use of her mouth. You pat her head, and she flinches slightly but doesn't pull away. The little slut is really starting to get used to her place.

System Message: "Your Submission score with Hana Inuzuka has increased by 5 points cause you make her feel like a cute doggy near her master. Current score: 70."

Across the table, you can feel Kiba’s frustration, his confused gaze darting between his mother and his sister. He's pissed, no doubt about it. It's as if he's trying to solve a puzzle, but all the pieces are either missing or upside down. The confusion is almost tragic, but it’s also kind of hilarious.

“Wait, what?” Kiba mutters under his breath, eyes wide with disbelief. “Mom... you seriously let him sit at the head of the table?”

You can almost see the gears grinding in Kiba's head as he mentally rewinds the past few hours, where he had thought he was doing you a noble favor by allowing a "lowly civilian" into his house. And it was a bloody good favor, but you are not the type to be grateful. You casually shift to a better position on your sit, waiting for his mother to serve you the first cut, or whatever it is she made.

Kiba leans forward, his eyebrows furrowing as he stares at his mom like she’s grown a second head. “You’re seriously okay with this? He’s a nobody,” he spits out, and you can hear the venom in his voice.

His voice is almost hysterical now, like he’s watching his childhood home slowly be swallowed up by a black hole. It's one thing to be a decent person and give someone a place to stay, but it's an entirely different matter to sit at the head of the table. Kiba’s whole worldview has apparently been shattered, and he’s trying to piece it together in real-time.

Tsume, calm and collected as ever, leans over and places a hand on his shoulder, her eyes cold but not unkind. “Kiba,” she says, her tone patient but with a flicker of command, “he’s not just a guest. He’s my master now.”

Kiba’s jaw drops, and for a second, he looks like a fish out of water. “What?! Your master?!” He sputters, eyes darting to you like you’ve just sprouted wings and started to sprout fire. “What the hell does that even mean?!”

Hana shrugs, her cheeks still a rosy hue from your cock. “It means you can start calling him daddy, Kiba. Right, mommy?” She clearly tries to spark another reaction from her brother, the glint in her eyes betraying the smugness. However, her mother seems to know exactly how to put her children back in check, and she doesn't miss a beat.

Before Kiba opens his mouth, Tsume sends him a shut-up glare, addressing her daughter. "Yes, Hana," her voice like steel wrapped in velvet, "and you are better to call him master too." After she makes sure her daughter knows her place, she turns to her son, who is clearly waiting for an explanation.

"You don't have to call my master 'daddy,' if you don't want to. But you better show him proper respect!" Tsume's last phrase made Hana **** on a giggle, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it.

"Yea Kiba, get ready to show master a proper respect, just make sure not to gag!", she snickers, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"What does that mean?!" Kiba's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, he clearly doesn't get why his sister was so particular about gagging, and you really straggled to keep your face straight about it either. Thankfully, Tsume decided to intervene.

"Hana, Kiba," she snaps, "enough. Clam down, both of you." She sighs and sits on a chair on your left side, gesturing to the food. "Kiba, you need to sit and eat. You’re too tense. And Hana," she turns to her daughter, "you need to learn when to keep your mouth shut." You can feel the difference in her last words from before, and her kids pick up on it immediately. The room goes silent as everyone takes their places at the dinner table, but not for long.

“So, what does this mean?” he hisses to his mom, it looks like the anger in his head was going for a while and now he is ready for the second round. “You’re saying he’s in charge now?!”

Tsume doesn't even look at him at first. She calmly picks a piece of grilled meat from her plate and places it on yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Then, she wipes her hands and turns to Kiba with the kind of flat, dangerous stare that could make a grown man question all his life choices.

“Yes,” she says simply. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Kiba’s mouth opens, then closes. He stares at you—you, the guy he once brought home out of pity, like a lost dog who smelled like instant noodles and failure—and now here you are. Sitting in his dad’s seat. Getting meat served to you. Patting his sister's head, like a little cute doggy. The universe is broken.

“I can’t believe this,” Kiba mutters, clutching his chopsticks like he might snap them. “Mom, he’s a civilian! A loser! You used to chase people out of the yard for stepping on the wrong tile!”

Tsume raises a brow. “And now I break their bones when they speak out of turn. Would you like to test me, Kiba?”

He gulps, clearly not eager for that experiment.

“Good.” She sets her chopsticks down with deliberate care and gestures to the sake bottle in the middle of the table. “Now, be a good boy and pour Master Kyle some sake.”

That breaks him.

“What?! That’s— That’s a girl’s job! Hana’s right there—!”

“And she’s busy entertaining our master,” Tsume says coolly, nodding to Hana, who’s quietly basking under your hand. “Which leaves you standing here, whining like a pup. So tell me, Kiba—do you want to act like a man of the clan, or keep yapping like a brat?”

You watch this like it’s the best dinner theater in the world, holding back a snort as Kiba looks between his sister, you, and his mother—whose stare has somehow intensified into full Alpha **** Glare mode.

He grumbles something under his breath, grabs the bottle, and shuffles over with all the enthusiasm of a tax auditor. He pours you a cup with stiff, jerky movements, his face red and scrunched like he just bit into a lemon soaked in shame.

You lean back in your seat, take a slow sip, and give him a wink. “Thanks, buddy. Smooth pour.”

Tsume, now fully content, pats Kiba’s shoulder. “See? That wasn’t so hard. You’ll learn to serve in no time.”

System Message: "Your Submission score with Kiba Inuzuka has increased by 10 points due to his mother's authority. Current score: 10."

System Message: "Your relationship score with Kiba Inuzuka has decreased by 25 points due to making him feel like a sissie. Current relationship score: 25 (Trust)."

Meanwhile, you stretch a bit, catch Tsume’s eye, and pat your thigh. She doesn’t hesitate—she rises from her seat and settles into your lap with a pleased little hum, as if that’s exactly where she belongs.

You smirk as the family dinner continues in awkward silence, everyone chewing their food while pretending not to notice their mom curled up like a content housecat on your lap.

"Mom, seriously," Kiba whispers, his face a picture of pure mortification, "you can't just sit there like that."

Tsume glances up at Kiba, a smug smile curling on her lips. "Why not?" she purrs, her fingers casually grazing Kyle's shirt. "Is there a problem, my dear?"

Kiba’s cheeks burn, his face a mix of anger, confusion, and embarrassment. Finally, he can’t take it anymore and slams his fist on the table. "That's not proper, Mom!"

Hana, still nibbling at her food while enjoying the moment, can’t help but taunt. "Oh, you sad little virgin, always too scared to talk to the girl you like. Playing protector now? Cute," she chuckles bitterly.

Kiba's face flushes crimson. "Shut up, Hana!" he snaps, barely keeping his cool.

You watch the family drama unfold, while still casually chewing your food. "Nah, Hana, tell us more!" You pat Tsume’s thigh, signaling her to keep things rolling.

Tsume smiles, though there's a hint of disapproval in her eyes as she turns to her son. "Kiba, get a grip. You're not a kid anymore, and I never needed your protection." Her tone shifts as she delivers the knockout, "Master had me in almost every way about an hour after you left, and I plan to give myself to him again before we sleep. So, please don’t barge into my bedroom, alright?"

You almost let a piece of meat slip out of your mouth, after hearing her blunt confession. You cough, trying to cover up your laugh with a sip of sake. "Thanks for the heads up, Tsume," you whisper in her ear, making her giggle, which in turn makes Kiba look like he's about to throw up.

You then decide it’s time to push the envelope a bit further, and you lean back, placing your hand firmly on Tsume's ass. "Hey Kiba, you know, I think this dinner could use a bit more... ambiance," you say, looking pointedly at the sake bottle. "Why don't you be a good boy and top me off?"

Kiba's hand shakes as he pours you another cup of sake, his eyes downcast, his cheeks the color of a sunburned peach. "Yeah, sure," he mumbles, trying to keep his voice steady, "whatever you say... 'master'." The word is acid on his tongue, but he can't help but swallow it down, his submission score visibly rising as he obeys.

System Message: "Your Submission score with Kiba Inuzuka has increased by 20 points due to realizing he is no longer the man of the house. Current score: 30."

"Good boy, Kiba!" His mom says, stroking his shoulder as if he's a well-behaved pet. "See, it's not that hard to be obedient." She looks at him clearly expecting something more, something that would make him snap. But Kiba just nods, pouring the sake like a well-trained servant.

You lean back in your chair, enjoying the spectacle. Family dinners really should happen more often—there’s something oddly satisfying about the chaos. "So, Hana," you ask, turning to the ninja girl on your right, attempting a bit of casual conversation to ease the tension, "how was your day?"

The moment you see that mischievous smirk on her face, you know you’re about to be entertained. "Oh, it was great, master," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I had a sparring session with mom, met some fat bum, then had to listen to that bum sexually owning my mother for hours. Then I had to massage his back, jerk him off, and blow him. Oh, and mom says I’m going to have your puppies." She giggles, her eyes glinting with malice as she looks at her brother.

The room goes eerily silent. You can almost hear the crickets outside. Kiba’s grip on the sake bottle tightens, then it breaks in his hand, glass shards and **** splattering everywhere. His face is a mix of rage, shock, and utter disbelief, like someone just told him his beloved Akamaru had been secretly running a dog fighting ring.

"Okay, that's enough." Tsume, ever the graceful powerhouse, rises from your lap, somehow letting you keep a hand on her ass for the whole time. She strides over to Kiba, yanks him by the hair, and drags him towards the door. "Outside," she commands, not even bothering with a jacket. "We need to have a little chat."

Clearly family dinners are a bliss. Need to have those more often.