Chapter 1248. She Gets Her Breakfast After We Do It On The Dining Table!**

Chapter 1248: 1248. She Gets Her Breakfast After We Do It On The Dining Table!**

The traitorous comfort in Valentina’s mind was the most humiliating part: "It’s fine... at least I won’t have to have actual sex, the kind that feels like intimacy or something human today."

’This is just... this is just slave work.’

’If I get some real food, I won’t have to do the other things.’

That pathetic, selfish bargain she was making with herself made her want to scream and vomit all at once. The thought that "not having sex" was a potential reward for accepting this degradation was revolting.

Desperation, sharp and ugly, took over her voice. The hunger in her stomach was like a living thing, gnawing at her insides, acidic and painful, making her feel faint.

She looked up at Rex, whose hand was still possessive and rough on her nape, the fingers occasionally leaving red marks on her thinning skin, and begged.

"Please, Master..." she said, her voice wavering and wet, the leftover white cum making her sound sloppy and debased, "I feel like I might die if I don’t eat some real food right now... my stomach is so empty..."

Her eyes, red-rimmed and glassy with shame, darted to Lily and Diana. The hope that was horrible and stupid flashed that they might be kind enough to share some of their delicious-smelling breakfast.

Lily and Diana exchanged a delighted look, like two cruel children who had just discovered a new way to tease a pet. The thought that breakfast was a "reward" to be earned only after more fucking was absolutely thrilling to them.

"Well, Grandma," Lily said, taking another neat bite of buttered toast, the pastry looking flaky and golden, "Rex said you can have some breakfast but only after he finishes fucking you here on the dining table."

Her voice was so cheerful and matter of fact, as if she were discussing the rules of a fun board game.

Diana nodded, licking a tiny drop of sausage grease from her fingertip, making sure it was clean and pretty, but her eyes were fixed on the wetness dripping down the back of Valentina’s thighs where the cum and pussy juices were mixing.

"That’s what the rules are, right? More fun with Rex first, then the yummy breakfast."

Rex roared with laughter, the sound genuine and cruel, vibrating through the hard wood that Valentina was about to be sat directly on. He loved that she was bargaining, that she was pleading for sustenance like a starving animal. He liked that she was trying to negotiate.

He tightened his grip on the back of her skull, not enough to bruise the bone that would be "bad" for his toy but hard enough to control exactly where her head was, tilting it back so she had to look up at his amused face.

"Oh? You’re hungry, are you?" he asked, though he sounded like he was mocking her hunger. "Like the poor little slave needs a meal?"

He shifted his free hand, the long fingers grabbing her hip, the bone feeling so prominent and fragile beneath the damp, cum-stained fabric of her clothes, and began to reposition her. He wanted her sitting right on the edge of the solid dining table, where she would be exposed to the full view of the girls.

The cock that massive, vein-ridden, dripping thing poked repeatedly into the damp spot between her pussy lips, where the clear pussy juice was dripping steadily onto the hard, polished finish of the wood: drip... splat... drip... splat...

His mind was focused on how "sexy" she looked—that broken, begging, starving slave who was clearly wet and needy. And he absolutely refused to let that be finished.

Above them, Lily actually picked up another piece of crispy bacon from his personal plate, holding it between two clean fingers, hovering it near where Valentina’s thigh would be, like she was waiting to see if any more cum would drip off her.

"You look so wet and ready, Grandma," she observed, delighted. "Like you really need more."

Rex really relished the way her body seemed to betray her—protests, the way she flinched and begged to stop, yet her pussy was practically weeping clear, viscous pussy juice that splattered onto the hard, polished wood of the dining table: splat... drip... schlip...

That wetness was like a beacon to him, the most delicious proof that despite her horrified verbal protests, her slave biology was responding with shameless enthusiasm.

He finished adjusting her so her spine was pressed hard into the solid, slightly bumpy texture of the dining table. The hardness of the wood was unforgiving, leaving red marks on her already irritated back, making every micro movement feel brutal and fixed.

This position made her like a sacrificial offering, laid out on the communal surface where everyone, the girls who were eating, could get a front-row seat.

He leaned down even further, his face coming right up to her flushed, tear-streaked cheek. He liked the way she looked so flustered and conflicted, that delicious mix of terror and involuntary arousal.

He began to lick the side of her face, the part where the salty cum was dried in white, tacky streaks, using his long tongue to lap up the mixture of her tears and his own sticky seed: LAPP... SCHLICK... SLOP...

"I tell you, having the fun right here on the dining table is ten times better," he said, his tongue already darting across her cheekbone, tasting the briny sting of her tears.

"Having an audience having these pretty little girls watching their dear Grandma be used—that is the absolute best feeling." His voice was purring, thick with cruel amusement.

He dragged his tongue up past her temple, down the line of her jaw, occasionally catching the way her throat bobbed when she swallowed hard.

Then, he angled his head so he could comment on the way his cock was being shoved repeatedly into her wet pussy, the thick tip riding the slit, stretching it, and filling it all the way to the back:

"You like how my cock has that nice way of curving up, don’t you?" he asked, his tongue licking a stripe from her ear down to the corner of her mouth, leaving a wet, shiny trail. "That curve is going to rub all over your fucking pussy front to back just grinding and breaking you in, making you thoroughly used."

He thrust the cock back in hard, the vein ridged girth catching on the sensitive pussy lips, stretching them nearly to the point of tearing, leaving white cum mixed with the clear pussy juice in a frothy, bubbly mess: PLOP SQUELCH SCHLIP.

The sound of the cock hitting the hard wood of the table just below her pussy ass crack made a solid THUD SQUISH noise.

Above her, Lily and Diana were practically hovering, their eyes fixed on the way the clear pussy juice was dripping off the point where her pussy met the dark wood, forming a sticky little puddle.

They loved the sight of the "breaking," the way the hard cock seemed to be punishing and pleasuring her all at once. Lily took another bite of something crunchy, maybe a piece of bacon. The CRUNCH CRUNCH sound seemed mocking and cheerful.

Rex laughed when he felt that hitch in her breathing that half sob, half gasp that sounded like she was begging him to stop, even though her pussy was clamping down on the hard cock like a needy thing.

"Oh? Are you begging me to stop?" he mocked, his tongue licking a particularly wet spot on her jaw, tasting the salty tear she had just shed. "Give it up, slave!"

"I can tell you absolutely love this..."

"Your mouth says ’stop,’ but your pussy is soaking up every single drop I give." He grinned, his teeth looking white and cruel, and shoved the cock back in even deeper, the tip hitting the hard edge of the table inside her wet pussy.

THUD SQUELCH.