Becoming Kitten Pt. 03

He squeezes gently ". . . here." Breath rushes from her lungs.

It's a touch unlike anything she's ever felt. So commanding. She feels so. . . his.

With his other hand, he lifts the rhinestone choker she had been wearing last night and holds it up to her.

She's on fire, her lust clawing its way around inside her. Her body is singing in the presence of this version of him, this version of him she didn't realize she was chasing when she climbed desperately onto his lap in her bathing suit. In his fatherly care for her, he had been holding back a lot more of himself than she knew.

"Think of it like a wedding ring, baby," he breathes smoothly, "marking a new kind of bond between us. Can you commit to always wearing something like this?"

Without hesitation, she lifts the choker up and puts it back on, happily. "I'm yours, Daddy," she whispers. Standing naked before him in heels and a collar, she feels so sexy, so wanted. She feels like her true self. A giddy bloom of warmth and happiness thrills across her skin.

He smiles and steps back, looking her over, green eyes flashing. Morning light streams through the windows and lights up her golden hair, sets the rhinestones on her heels and collar to sparkling. "My god," he whispers. "You are a vision. . ."

She sees the silk of his robe, tented from an erection. The sight makes her feel. . . powerful. It gives her the courage to ask, "Dad, can I ask a question?"

"Sure, baby."

"Why the rules?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I think this look is super hot and I love the idea of . . . " she touches her collar. "This. So I'm down with it. But, why do there have to be rules? Why all the time?"

He nods like he expected this. "First, because it turns me on." He flashes a rakish smile. "Second, though," A thoughtful pause before continuing. "Last night was. . . important for both of us. I met Kitten for the first time, and I am already in love with her."

The words warm like sunshine inside her and the liquid happiness she felt upon first waking in his bed returns. His voice continues to wash over her like breeze in Autumn.

"But she needs to be loved in a certain way, doesn't she? She's always had. . . strong needs, right?"

His tone makes her feel girlish again. She feels the blush creep up her bosom and neck. "Yeah. ." she replies.

"Being sexual is how she can be herself, isn't it? Sometimes she needs it more than anything, doesn't she?"

She looks away, jittery and yet exhilarated. Ready to fly and yet pinned like a butterfly. How does he know her so well? Shyly, she nods, whispering, "I think about it all time, Dad."

She watches her toes wiggle in her sparkling shoes, then returns her eyes to his. "Like ALL the time. . ." Hot and overwhelmed, she barely notices the fresh trickle down her thigh, her body responding to his close proximity.

Unconsciously, she steps forward and touches him again. The need for contact controls her movements, she has to be touching him again. . .

He smiles and takes her hands in his, holding them between their bodies.

"I loved Jessica but didn't get much chance to be her father. Now I love Kitten. And I'm going to be her Daddy. But Kitten has a lot to learn about herself and I want to help her do that. These rules are a. . . container for that. We each grew last night. We're going on this adventure together, but we each have our part to play. This," he gently touches the collar, "is how Kitten and Daddy live. Does that make sense?"

"I guess so."

He looks her in the eyes again, and speaks softly, lovingly. "Repeat after me?"

Curious, she nods.

"I love my Daddy. I trust my Daddy."

"I love my Daddy. I trust my Daddy." Kitten can repeat that truth easily.

"My Daddy will use me and challenge me."

"My Daddy will use me and challenge me." (Oh, yes. . . ) She stands taller, feeling ready for this challenge.

"My Daddy will help me become a happier me."

"My Daddy will help me become a happier me." She feels a genuine smile stretch across her face.

"When Daddy challenges me, I will obey him, even if it scares me or I don't understand why.."

"When Daddy challenges me, I will obey him, even if it scares me or I don't understand why." She repeats this promise, even as it startles her. The sense of the unknown, of being out of control, feels frightening and liberating at the same time. Kitten can smell the excitement emanating from her body in waves.

"Being a slut is beautiful. Daddy will help me learn to be the best slut I can."

(Whoa--)

Slut. The word is a surprise. She's always heard it as a weapon, it's very existence making her feel bad about her constant. . . feelings. Her constant needs. As they have gotten stronger, she hasn't always been able to control herself with boys and has developed a reputation at school. She's heard that word a lot and sometimes felt like it was invented just for her, just for the other girls to shame her for needing so badly what she always needs. It's one of the reasons she hasn't wanted to venture out into the world beyond her father's house. She trusts him. Only him. With him, here, she has felt free to. . .be herself.

Seeing her hesitation, he prompts her again, the emphasis in his voice bringing her back to the present.

"Being a slut is beautiful. Daddy will help me learn to be the best slut I can."

The way he says the word is so. . loving, so accepting. She's amazed. Could it be that it's. . . O.K? To be a slut? The tone in his voice and the warmth of his hands convince her that it could be true. And the freedom in just the idea of that is a gift all its own, removing in a heartbeat the awkwardness and shame that she's felt about her constant needs as they've grown in her. Needs that have always seemed like trouble. She hears the simple love he puts into the word, and blinks back tears. It's more than permission—it's a celebration of something real and undeniable inside her..

She swallows, and finally speaks, making the words her own. Owning the statement, and feeling the echo of the words as they wake her from the inside. "Being a slut is. . . Beautiful. I need Daddy to make me the best slut I can be.."

He smiles, like a proud father. "That's Daddy's good girl."

She shivers at these words.

For a moment, there is silence as they stare at each other, recognizing the power of what has happened between them. They are not who they were last night. They are not even who they were when this conversation began. There in that kitchen, has something changed forever and will never be the same.

His smile is deep and warm and completely loving. "Now, you beautiful slut, get on your knees and suck your father's cock."

She grins, sliding down his body and onto her knees as he opens and discards his robe.

(I am a slut.) She tries the word on in her mind as she takes his cock into her mouth, relishing the weight of it on her tongue, unhurried now in the light of day. The scent of his arousal leaves her lightheaded as she swirls her tongue around the head of his solid flesh, using her fingers to squeeze what her lips cannot reach. It's a beautiful cock and it slides perfectly down her throat.

(I am a beautiful slut. . . and my Daddy loves me for it.) This thought hits her body like gasoline to flame, driving her to suck harder, to tilt her head back so he can move faster. The feel of him unable to keep himself from pushing into her mouth is so satisfying, so primal, and she runs the fingernails of her free hand up his tight stomach, feeling the ripple of his abs as he gasps. A mindless flow of drool runs down her chin as she loses herself in what feels like prayer, worshipping his cock like giving thanks, this room their church. (Yes, Daddy, please. Fuck my face, Daddy. Thank you, thank you.)

"Oh god, that's good baby," he groans. His words wash over her like benediction, and she feels so proud. Last night was surprising and headlong, but now they are meeting as lovers in the light of day, and she wants more than anything to please him. To make him happy. His pleasure, hopelessly intertwined with her own now.

He moans again, deep and low, and she feels the vibration of it through him against the back of her throat. Approval. She begins bobbing her head, ponytail swaying with her motion. His cock swells and throbs in gratifying response. Squeezing her fingers around it, she moves in an elegant rhythm. The salty taste of his precum blooms across her tongue, and her moth floods with drool.

Nick groans again, a primal sound, an animal sound that echoes within her and awakens her awareness to her own body. Her pussy is screaming for attention. She snakes her other hand down to her clit, fingers pressing in a practiced rhythm, and bolts of pleasure radiate up through her body with shocking force. She begins to wonder if having a cock in her mouth makes her more. . . herself. Makes her real, where she was a transparent ghost of a girl before.

She feels his strong fingers tangle in her ponytail, clutching a fistful of hair, fingers against her scalp. She moans on his cock in brief surprise, but as he starts moving her head, she melts deliciously into the motion, relaxing her neck and shoulders, relaxing her throat, flowing with his rhythm, pressing the flat of her tongue underneath his shaft.

(He's using me. . . My Daddy is fucking my face. . .) The thoughts alone almost make her come. Her consciousness funnels down to the pleasure on her clit, the tangy taste of his skin, and her own breathy moan every time his fingers pull on her scalp. He was right. This is what she was made for.

"You're such a good girl, princess," he says, his voice filled with a delicious mix of appreciation and hunger. "You suck Daddy's cock so good." She preens at his words, wanting more. Kitten floats, feeling far away from her body, trancelike, as the words find her and warm her in surprising, soulful ways. She feels her orgasm building, a tidal wave still miles from shore.

"Daddy knows you need to fuck, baby," he goes on, his voice seemingly far away, an echo in a tunnel that washes over her skin. Raspy with desire. His solid grip in her hair and his words like melted butter are feeding her. The tidal wave draws nearer as he pushes his solid flesh deeper into her throat with every word of praise.

"Daddy is going to fuck you hard, baby girl. He knows you need a lot of cock, and he's going to make sure you get it." The sounds of crashing waves grows louder.

"Daddy knows you're a beautiful, horny little slut, and he's going to make you the best slut you can be."

Kitten drowns under the tsunami, pleasure and release crashing through her, tumbling her onto the sun-warmed sand. Nick's grip in her hair is unyielding, so she screams her pleasure right into him, infusing his skin with the echo of her orgasm, eyes screwed shut and breath pounding furiously through her nose.

"That's it, baby, that's Daddy's good girl," he says, and she can hear the leering grin in his words. Her lips tingle around his overheated flesh. Even as she feels reduced to just these few parts of herself - her tingling lips, her dripping cunt, her knees pressing into the floor - his words continue to sizzle inside her.

He pulls her head off his cock and she gasps for air. Drool pours wantonly down her chin as she looks up at him wide-eyed, panting, reeling in what is happening, what he's saying, what she's feeling. Sensation floods back into the rest of her body.

She sees the look on his face that she saw last night--not anger, but a feral intensity in his eyes, and absolute conviction of his own need—and control. It melts her all over again, and she delights in the hot ocean of willingness churning inside her.

Gently, he reaches for her, pulls her up and leans down to kiss her. It is a tender slide of lips on lips for a brief moment, his wide and solid hand pressing firmly into the small of her back. She can feel his need as their kiss quickly escalates into a fiery dance of tongues, moans, breath.

Pulling away suddenly, he turns her around and bends her relaxed body over the kitchen island. She is ready be used in whatever way he needs, and rests her elbows on the warm wood, panting. She hangs her head and widens her stance, loving how the heels naturally tilt her pelvis up into better position to be fucked.

And she waits. She wiggles her hips, playfully. Enticing. (Where is he?)

She feels his hand gently slide onto her neck from behind, gripping the base of her skull and keeping her from turning her head.

She moves her hips again, more frantically. "Come on, Daddy," she whines.

His gravelly voice fills her ear, surprisingly close. The rumble of it floods her pussy with dripping need. Again, always. "What do you want, baby?"

Her eyes shoot open, surprised. She tries to turn her head, to look up at him but his grip is solid, forcing her to look straight ahead. Sunlight filters in from the kitchen window and glints off the chrome faucet of the sink, blinding. She slides her eyes to the side but he's tantalizingly invisible. In the moment, he exists only as a hot voice in her ear, a steel grip on her neck.

She realizes that even after last night, she's never actually. . .said it to him. It comes out, timid, as a whisper. "Fuck me."

His chuckle tickles her ear. His voice is amused, teasing. "Come now, Kitten. You are a beautiful, talented slut. You were made to be fucked. It's what you're for. We both know it. . . . And Daddy loves you for it."

She whimpers, inflamed by his words in excruciatingly delicious ways. Her hips move again, unconsciously. Heat pulses through her, and she becomes aware of her own panting.

"No need to be timid. You're a slut. A natural-born, need-to-be-fucked, nymphomaniac little slut. And that's a beautiful and rare thing. Try again."

"Fuck me!" She says, loudly this time, barking at the wood surface in front of her face. She feels the hand on her neck shifting somewhat, but not releasing its grip. He speaks again, but this time his voice is further away, behind her.

"Try again, slut. Be who you really are."

"FUCK ME DADDY!!!!" She bellows, filling the room with her warcry, rattling the windows, and feeling a seismic shift inside herself as she does. Pieces of the puzzle slot into place. It feels so good--so goddamn good!--to just scream her lust, her needs, her self out into space with no regard for anything but the experience of telling the Universe who she is without being judged for it.

Her equilibrium falters. The safety and freedom of this moment makes her dizzy, delirious. As Nick slides his cock deep into her dripping pussy, Kitten is floating again--out of her own body and yet a more real version of herself than she has ever been.

He thrusts slowly, adding force with each stroke, until he is turning her inside out. She feels volcanic power rippling through her every time their bodies collide. Forehead pressed against wood, eyes rolled back, she hears her own voice grunting with his thrusts, fresh drool flowing from her mouth. "Fuck. Your. Slut. Daddy. Fuck. Your. Slut. Daddy."

His hand releases her hair and he lets his fingernails rake down her back, trailing lines of fire on her skin, then seizes her hips. The tight-enough-to-bruise grip both controls and comforts her. She muscles her hips back at him, silently and hungrily asking for him to press deeper, to own her.

"Daddy loves fucking his slut," He growls in reply, quickening the pace, his breath coming faster. Everything is sensation now--sweat, breath, roiling energy crashing around inside her, electric thrills every time his cock bottoms out, filling her. Meeting her.

She can feel and hear their breath synchronize and accelerate as that delicious spring starts coiling inside. He growls, an animal set loose behind her. Impaled like this, being deliciously used like the slut she's always been, getting fucked hard and fast by her own father, she knows she's going to come like an animal very soon.

"Daddy, I'm going to come. . you're making me come. . . you're baby's . . . gonna. . . come. . ."

He leans into her, breathes hot into her ear. "Good baby." He grunts. "Be a good girl. Come for Daddy. Come all over Daddy's cock. Come while Daddy fucks you."

With a shock, her orgasm slams through her. Her elbows collapse, sending her face first onto the wooden countertop. Pleasure coils from the base of her spine and rises like flames after an explosion, her voice infusing every corner of the kitchen as she keens like a beast, the world nothing but electricity, light, and passion.

He comes, roaring through the force of his orgasm, and she feels the hot splash of him inside her. Lost in the sensation, she swims in the new, thick warmth of him in her. It feels right. It feels like sin and sunshine. She's lost in it for a beautifully long time. . .

She blinks and slowly returns to consciousness, becoming aware of the puddle of saliva against her cheek, and how his hands no longer grip her hips but are instead planted on either side of her. His heaving chest against her back, his hot panting breath brushing her neck as he recovers.

They breathe together like that for what seems like an age, and as her thoughts slowly return, she considers the situation, clinically, as if observing from a distance.

It's first thing in the morning. Her now-blonde hair is up in a ponytail and she's bent over in the kitchen naked but for high heels and a rhinestone collar. Her own father has her pinned down down from behind, his hard cock still throbbing inside her and his cum starting to leak out of her.

While he fucked her, her father told her she's always been a slut. Her father told her she was made for fucking and he was going to make sure she got fucked a lot. She's resting in a puddle of her own drool, his hot breath panting against her neck.

She's happier than she's ever been in her life.