That Night When Jenny Gets Home

At 8:42 PM, the front door opens.

I hear it from the basement—the heavy thud of a bag hitting hardwood, followed by the sharp, irregular click of heels moving too fast. Then silence. Then a sound I never heard Jenny make before: a long, shuddering intake of breath that ends in a choked, wet hiccup.

I climb the stairs. Jenny's standing in the foyer, still in her yoga clothes—a cream-colored sports bra and high-waisted leggings that cling to her curves—but her face is devastated. Her eyes are swollen and red-rimmed, her nose raw from wiping. Her phone is clutched in her white-knuckled fist.

She sees me and freezes.

"You," she breathes. The word carries the full weight of twelve hours of mounting catastrophe. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Tell me," I lean against the bannister.

"Meridian dropped me." Her voice cracks on the agency's name. "Cassandra called me at noon—my manager, the woman who hand-picked me out of three thousand applicants—and told me the board voted unanimously to terminate my contract. Effective immediately. No severance. No referral." A tear breaks free, tracking down her cheek. She doesn't wipe it. "The Radiant Skin campaign is gone. The Vogue test shoot next month—gone. Every single brand partnership I spent two years building—gone. Because of your disgusting Reddit post."

She takes a step toward me, her jaw trembling with barely-contained fury.

"Cassandra said they reverse-image-searched me in under an hour. My portfolio photos matched. They linked my real name, my agency page, everything. It's on Twitter now. It's on gossip blogs. My phone hasn't stopped buzzing all day. Girls I went to high school with are texting me screenshots." Her voice drops to a raw whisper. "My roommate at the model apartment in New York texted me asking if I'm okay. She saw it on TikTok, Jake. TikTok."

She's shaking; the full-body tremor of someone watching their entire identity collapse in real time.

"So congratulations," she spits, another tear falling. "You won. You destroyed everything I worked for. Are you happy now, Master?"

I laugh. "You don't know the half of it, princess."

I close the distance between us in two steps, my arm snaking around her waist before she can react. My hand slides down the curve of her hip, past the waistband of her leggings, and grabs a handful of her ass through the thin fabric. She stiffens, a choked sound catching in her throat, but she doesn't pull away. She can't.

"Come on," I murmur into her ear, steering her toward the staircase. "I've got a surprise for you. Upstairs. Your parents' bedroom."

"What?" Her voice is thin, confused. "Why would I—"

"Walk, Jenny."

She walks. I keep my hand firmly planted on her backside, squeezing and kneading as I guide her up the stairs. Each step makes her flinch, but her legs keep moving. At the top of the landing, I steer her left, toward the double doors of the master suite.

I push the doors open.

The room has been completely gutted of its previous domestic warmth. The floral curtains are drawn tight, replaced by blackout fabric I bought this afternoon. Three studio-grade ring lights blaze from different angles, flooding the California king bed in a harsh, pornographic white. Two tripod-mounted cameras frame the bed from opposing corners, their red recording lights already blinking.

Eric is between them, adjusting the zoom on the left camera with mechanical precision. He doesn't look up when the door opens. His face is a blank mask—eyes fixed on the viewfinder, his body moving with the practiced economy of a technician who has already spent hours calibrating angles and testing audio levels.

Peter stands near the foot of the bed, completely naked. His massive frame looks almost comical stripped of its usual polo shirts and pressed trousers—all that intimidating muscle on full display, bisected by a single grotesque detail: a heavy steel chastity cage locked around his genitals, the metal gleaming under the ring lights. He turns toward the door, his face splitting into that manic, enthusiastic grin.

"Jenny! Welcome home, sweetheart!" he booms, spreading his arms wide. "You're just in time! Jake's been planning something really special tonight!"

Jenny's mouth falls open. No sound comes out.

I look at the bed.

Samantha is spread-eagle on the duvet, completely naked. Two thin strips of electrical wire cross over her nipples in an X pattern, connected to a small control box resting on the pillow beside her head. A string of graduated anal beads disappears between her cheeks, and a thick silicone dildo is buried to the hilt inside her, its base vibrating with a low, insistent hum. Her wrists are bound to the headboard with a silk rope.

Standing over her, arm raised mid-swing with a leather riding crop, is Rose. She's poured into a skimpy black leather harness that leaves almost nothing to the imagination—thin straps cutting across her pale chest, a micro-thong riding high on her hips, her piercings glinting through the gaps in the leather. Her black-and-red hair is slicked back, her eyes hard and focused.

Samantha's skin is striped with pink welts. Her face is turned toward the door—and the instant she sees Jenny, a raw, guttural sob tears from her chest.

"Jenny—baby—don't look at me," Samantha begs, her voice breaking into pieces. "Please, sweetheart, don't look—"

Jenny's legs give out. She collapses against the doorframe, her hands flying to her mouth, a sound escaping her that isn't a scream or a word—it's something more primal, a keening wail of pure, unprocessed horror.

"Mom?" she whispers through her fingers. "Mommy? What... what is he doing to you?"

"Me?" I snort. "This is your fault, Jenny."

The words land like a hammer blow. Her eyes snap from Samantha's bound, welted body to my face, the pupils dilating with raw incomprehension.

"What?" she croaks.

"After you left this morning, your parents found out I spent the night fucking you; that you were my sex slave for a week. I told them all about what I had planned for you. The photos. The videos. The Reddit post. Your dead career. Even the new career I had planned for you." I lean against the doorframe, my arms crossed and tone casual. "Your mom was so desperate to save you, Jenny. She was crying, begging me for a chance to undo what I'd done to her baby girl."

Jenny's hands drop from her face. Her lips are parted, a thin string of saliva connecting them, her expression cycling rapidly between confusion and dawning horror.

"No," Jenny whispers. "No, that's not—they wouldn't just—"

"We made a bet. If they won, I'd delete everything and walk away. You'd be free." I pause, letting the weight of it press down on her chest. "Your family loves you so goddamn much they gambled everything on a fifty-fifty chance to pull you out of the fire. And they lost. This is the result"

A broken, strangled sound escapes Jenny's throat. She looks at her father—naked, caged, grinning at her with hollow, enthusiastic rictus—and a full-body shudder racks her frame.

"Daddy?" she whispers. "Daddy, can you hear me?"

"Hey, princess!" Peter booms, his massive arms spread wide. "Don't worry about a thing! Jake's got everything under control! He's a real leader—you're in great hands!"

Jenny recoils as if she's been struck. Her back hits the hallway wall and she slides down it, her legs folding beneath her, her palms flat on the floor. She looks up at me from the ground, tears streaming freely now, her sports bra rising and falling with each panicked breath.

"You did this to them," she says, her voice a raw, serrated whisper. "You monster. You absolute monster."

"This happened because you lost a bet," I correct her, crouching down to her level. I grip her chin, tilting her tear-streaked face up. "And tonight, if you lose again, this becomes permanent. Your mom stays tied to that bed forever. Your dad stays in that cage forever. Eric stays behind that camera forever. All because their precious princess couldn't stop herself from squirting like a whore."

Her lower lip trembles violently. A fat tear rolls over my thumb.

"But if you win tonight's bet," I add softly, "they all go free. Every single one of them." I undo my pants and offer her my cock. "All you have to do is make me cum before you."

Author's Note: Big shoutout to Kage96!

I’ve had this chapter sitting in my drafts for a while. Even though I don't feel like it's 100% complete, I decided to post what I have as a favor to Kage96.

That said, I’ve lost interest in this story and am officially putting it on hold/abandoning it. If anyone wants to adopt this thread and continue it, you have my full permission!

For anyone who wants to pick it up, here was my original plan:

• After Jake finishes crushing Jenny here (and solidifying permanent control over her and the Avrey family), Jenny was supposed to text Jade—her roommate and a Korean model.
• Jenny would claim her nudes were leaked by an ex-boyfriend without her permission, her life was ruined, and that she desperately needed a friend.
• Jake would tag along to their meetup and make a bet with Jade.
• Once Jake won control over Jade, he wouldn't destroy her life right away. Instead, he’d use her connections in the modeling industry to set up bets with other models to build a harem of supermodels.

Again, if you want to adopt this thread, feel free to use my ideas. If you choose to go a different direction, that is also fine. All the best and happy writing!