Becoming Kitten Pt. 04

Her motion is captivating. Her poise, the fluid way she seems to own the space surrounding her body in even such simple acts as opening a door and walking away. They all have some kind of effect on Kitten that feels. . . like heat. Feels like tickling. Maybe feels like. . . a crush.

"She does that to everyone," Again, her father's voice brings her back to herself. Realizing she is blushing, she turns to see his warm, knowing smile.

"Dad, she's. . ." Kitten breathes. There isn't a word.

"Right? That's Elizabeth. You two are going to have fun together, baby," he says, gesturing with an open hand for her to lead the way into Elizabeth's home.

His words reignite the heat inside her and it pulses through her body like an implosion. She remembers that her father brought her here to play. To fuck. To fuck that beautiful creature.

"Oh, yes we are." She charges forward like a soldier breaching a door. Smile widening, Nick follows, closing the door behind them.

The suite is unreal. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city skyline for the entire length of a wall. White marble floors and silver fixtures and a massive chrome chandelier. A sunken living room, tastefully appointed with plush white carpet, deep burgundy couches and a large glass coffee table, from which rises a stunning, multi-flowered purple-and white orchid.

Distantly, Kitten hears her own heels clicking on the floor until she passes by Elizabeth and steps down onto the carpet, striding to stand before of the huge L-shaped couch. She feels simultaneously small here, and also. . . at home. It's a sexy place and similar in some ways to her father's house, but with a distinctly feminine energy. A woman lives here. A woman fucks here. A woman owns this space and the people within it. The last of her edginess softens away, overtaken by the grabby heat of her purpose here, and she turns to seek that woman out.

Elizabeth and her father are entwined, deep in a kiss, their tongues lashing and hands roaming. With one hand, Nick grabs the back of her neck possessively and presses her willing face onto his mouth, his other cupped reverently around the side of her full breast. Her hands swim across his torso and back, one then reaching down to squeeze his crotch. They simultaneously moan into each other's mouths, then finally break contact, each pulling back to gasp for air.

"Wow," she gasps, "something new has gotten into you, my friend." She's breathing deeply, flushed and sagging a little. She purrs, "Oh, and I love it."

The left-out feeling threatens to rise again. "So," Kitten says loudly, her voice carrying across to where they stand, "you two are. . . friends?" She hopes she doesn't sound as awkward and young as she feels. They both smile, and disengage. Elizabeth turns the force of her attention to Kitten.

"Oh yes," she says, stepping smoothly down onto the carpet, "We are friends. We are also co-workers. Your father's company retains me from time to time as an executive entertainment consultant on high-end international business deals. Occasionally, those contracts get to include him." She smiles back at him briefly, winking, real affection showing in her eyes. "Those are my favorite jobs."

Kitten repeats back slowly, as Elizabeth approaches. "Executive entertainment consultant?"

Elizabeth's laugh floats up and away like a butterfly. "Beastly euphemism, I know." Close now, she reaches out and brushes a strand of blonde hair away from Kitten's face, tucking it gently-almost lovingly-behind an ear with manicured nails. Her eyes twinkle as she says with delight in her voice "I'm a whore, my dear. Very well-paid, very-well treated. I'm a top-shelf, world-class, jet-setting escort. But among friends, I prefer to think of myself as a whore. Because I love sex. I love what I do, and I don't feel a need to be coy about it."

Then Elizabeth leans in, and whispers slowly, darkly into Kitten's ear ". . . And because I'm like you, darling. . ." Her breath stays there for a moment, smelling like honey, feeling hot and inviting. She feels a warm hand on her hip and the woodsy-spring smell of Elizabeth's soft perfume filling her consciousness. Kitten feels the shift in her universe. Her world has suddenly become . . . electric.

Heat flares through her, as she looks into those beautiful, deep blue eyes. "Like me?" she whispers back.

Elizabeth starts moving then, swaying ever so slowly as she runs her eyes greedily over Kitten's body, her fingernails leaving tingling trails up and down Kitten's arms. "Oh yes. Your. . . Daddy has told me all about you."

The word flies through Kitten with a surprising shock. At the door Elizabeth had mentioned knowing all about them, but in this moment she feels more exposed, more vulnerable. In this moment, she realizes that there have been conversations between this woman and her Daddy. Conversations about her. Her chest tightens.

"Oh don't worry, my love," Elizabeth continues in a conspiratorial tone, "if he was my Daddy, I'd fuck him too. . . " She leans in to one side, snaking one arm around Kitten's waist and turning her slightly so they both facing Nick, sides of their breasts slightly brushing together, and looking at Nick as he sits back, relaxing onto a couch. She whispers again, "Doesn't his cock feel so good when he bottoms out deep inside you? Isn't it delicious when he roars and fills you with his hot cum?"

Shocked at the brazenness of her words, Kitten turns and sees Elizabeth regarding her hungrily, her gaze roving from her mouth to her throat to her breasts and down her body. Kitten feels suspended, caught, thrilled but unsure. Is Elizabeth coming on to her already? Then why are they talking about her Dad? She feels intoxicated by this woman's smell, the mint on her breath, the heat of her body, her skin so close. . . they fill her with a craving, a need, a desire like she felt for Stacey in the gym showers, those months ago, but a thousand times stronger.

Forgetting her nervousness, forgetting her father, she turns her body into Elizabeth's, presses their foreheads together, captivated by those eyes, and that delicious mouth. The older woman's words have inflamed her, and she asks again, "What do you mean, you're like me?"

Elizabeth breathes back, "Oh, honey. We're both such sluts, aren't we? Our bodies have awakened and we need to fuck. We need it like we need air." She says it softly, a precious and beautiful truth now suspended between them. The caress of her voice on Kitten's ears is like spring sunshine dancing on delicate flower petals.

"Yes. . ." Kitten replies, feeling startled and known, relieved and at home, horny and drunk.

"It's like breathing, isn't-"

Kitten lunges forward, filling Elizabeth's mouth with her tongue, famished for her taste. A short, surprised grunt from Elizabeth quickly melts into a moan that reverberates down Kitten's throat. She tastes like sunshine, tastes like freedom, tastes like lust. Kitten feels her whole body immersed in the kiss, as Elizabeth's tongue engages hers and their hands begin to roam each other's bodies, grazing, groping.

Kitten steps one foot forward, leaning harder into the kiss, moving impossibly closer to Elizabeth. She's not going to be dismissed as a kid-she's going to claim an equal place here. She squeezes the beautiful woman's breasts through her gown, inhales her perfume, unconsciously pushes her pelvis forward, grinding a little. Elizabeth responds in kind, though with a bit more reserve, as if appreciative of Kitten's passion, but. . . withholding. . . evaluating.

Their kiss continues through labored breaths until finally Elizabeth breaks contact and leans back, her eyes wide and locked on Kitten's. Her gaze speaks of a million things-arousal and attraction, yes, which makes Kitten feel proud and strong. But there is also a kind of. . . appraisal in her gaze, as if weighing something important about Kitten in her own mind for the first time. A new curiosity.

"Well," Elizabeth finally breathes, "that was something, my dear." She takes one step back, runs a hand lightly up Kitten's back, and turns to look at Nick, smiling appreciatively, "She's just an exquisite kisser, isn't she?"

Though it doesn't seem possible to become more excited, the words make Kitten blush with pride. This amazing, sophisticated, exotic woman, thinks she's a good kisser! She glances to the side and sees her father sitting on the other arm of the couch, face flushed with arousal and happiness. Importantly, his smile exposes a pride similar to what Kitten is feeling.

Out the corner of her eye, Kitten sees Elizabeth arch an eyebrow and cock her head slightly, while looking at Nick, in some unspoken question. Nick smiles wider, and gives a small nod, in silent answer. She has a moment to wonder what this means before the sensation of Elizabeth's hand on her back disappears, and her world is turned upside down again.

In an instant she feels the woman clutch a fistful of her hair at the scalp, pulling backward and down. She is rocked off balance, and has to lean backward into the vice-grip to stay on her feet. She grunts, shocked, in an instant going from star of the show to a helpless captive.

She is looking straight up at the beautiful silver-tiled ceiling and her arms flail out from her body wildly-it's everything she can do to keep her balance on her heels.

Elizabeth leans in then, breathing into her ear. "You, my dear, come on too strong. But that's OK. If you want to play that game, we can play that game." With a tantalizing slowness, she the runs her hot, wet tongue down the length of Kitten's exposed throat. Even while struggling to breathe and keep her balance, the sensation electrifies Kitten and a flood explodes in her pussy.

Elizabeth smiles warmly—even lovingly—while retaining her grip and keeping Kitten arched backward. "You really are a beautiful girl, Kitten. Your Daddy tells me that you've become quite the subby little slut. Let's see..."

A hand glides up Kitten's leg, toward the hem of her dress, under it. The scratch of fingernails awakens the delicate skin of Kitten's inner thigh, and Elizabeth's eyes darken with a flash of lust as she finally cups her hand on Kitten's heat.

"Oh my. That is a gloriously wet little pussy. You're enjoying this aren't you my love?"

Kitten's emotions are a jumble. On the one hand she is struggling to stay on her feet, and her scalp burns where Elizabeth's fingers clutch at her hair. She feels ambushed and a little humiliated, teetering there and being groped like a possession.

But the truth is, she is enjoying it. She wants to be this woman's possession. Being the center of such powerful attention, being controlled, being displayed, being desired. This woman's hot hand pressing on her naked pussy. One of the many experiences Jessica might have been appalled by, Kitten finds exhilarating and nourishing. She hears the word Yes dance through her mind, and realizes that admitting that she enjoys it-claiming this pleasure for herself-makes her feel strong.

Locking eyes with her captor, she smiles and replies "Of course I'm enjoying it. There's no reason two sluts like us can't have some fun." The words come out with such strength behind them, surprising even her. It sounds like a dare.

Elizabeth arches an eyebrow. "Indeed." Her voice drops to a whisper again, conspiratorially. "I know about how you fuck your own father. That's so nasty. . ." She hisses. "That's incessssssst. . . It's so wrong. . . "

Kitten whimpers, not out of fear but because the words enflame her, set her pussy to gushing anew around Elizabeth's teasing fingers.

"Your Daddy has told me how much you like it when he bends you over and uses you."

She whimpers again, helpless in the face of the truth of it. Every time her Daddy fucks her, she revels in the 'wrongness' of it and it makes her lose her mind with lust. The wrongness, the willing and wanton sin of it, is just so fucking hot.

"Do you want me to use you like your Daddy does?" Elizabeth asks.

In that moment, Kitten realizes she truly has become someone else. Bent backwards in this richly appointed penthouse suite, a beautiful, sexy woman whispering to her all the nasty and depraved truths of her life . She feels that this is the kind of moment she belongs in now. She is a slut, and she has never known anything truer about herself. She was made to be fucked, and she lets the pride in that knowledge cover her with electricity head to toe. The peace of it fills her with a liquid joy and a pure strength.

It's perhaps the weirdest and most paradoxical moment of her life. The more she joys in the sensations of submission, the more courage she feels. Even in this completely dominated position, she replies in an almost bratty tone, "I know I want to fuck. . . . Maybe. . . Maybe I want to use you."

Elizabeth's eyebrows shoot up, shocked and amused, and she nods, "My my. What a delicious answer." Without warning she pulls her finger out of Kitten's pussy and plunges two easily back in, burying them up to the knuckle. Kitten gasps—overtaken by the sudden, electric tension, a coil of pleasure building from the base of her spine, and lets her arms hang languidly at her sides. Her mouth falls open on a broken moan, her body relaxing onto the fingers in her pussy and the hand behind her head, feeling impaled, owned.

Fingers move inside her, slowly, as heat blooms and floods across her body. Her eyes drift shut. It feels so, so good... standing there, bent back, at the mercy of this woman who she's only known for minutes but who finger fucks her while her father watches. Her mind begins to float. That strength, that new peace, the sense of rightness and delight of letting go engulfs her. She smiles to herself and moans again, her pussy flooding anew.

The fingers move rhythmically, playing her delicate core like a musical instrument. Her breathy moans echo in the open room, her own melody. Their own melody. Kitten feels an orgasm start to build, stalking her like prey, coiling itself up her legs like a python. She breathes into the sensation, wanting to get lost in it, to be overtaken and suffocated by it.

And like that, those magic fingers are gone.

Kitten's body mourns. She whimpers, her eyes snapping open. Elizabeth locks her gaze as she brings her fingers to her beautiful mouth, wrapping full lips around them, sucking Kitten's juices into her own mouth. She then closes her eyes and inhales deeply, filling her senses.

Slowly her eyes open and she moves her fingers to Kitten's own lips. Without thinking, Kitten snakes her tongue out, embracing the digits as they press insistently into her mouth. She can taste herself. She can feel Elizabeth's gaze locked on the movement of her tongue like a brand. Elizabeth's smiles stretches slowly across her mysterious face as time slows. It's a moment, suddenly, between lovers.

Finally Elizabeth whispers. "Well.."

Kitten feels her body being gently lifted upright. Her muscles complain about having held the pose, but she's still floating, disconnected. The lightness in her head distracts her from the sensation of her dress being unzipped and the fabric falling from her shoulders.

Suddenly she stands in the center of this strange woman's living room, naked but for her heels and her collar, her dress in a pool at her feet. She is flushed, panting. She is not embarrassed. She feels only excitement and pride. She flashes her eyes at her father, a big grin dawning across her face.

"I like your friend, Daddy," she breathes.

He smiles back, nodding proudly, his own arousal tenting the fabric of his slacks. "I knew you would, baby girl. The two of you are magnificent together."

Kitten turns back to Elizabeth, stepping forward, out of the puddle of her dress, reaching out to place her hands on either side of the older woman's beautiful face. She is transfixed by the curves of Elizabeth's perfect, glistening lips, and leans in slowly, to run her tongue across them. So delicious. The moment is almost tender, foreheads touching and an intimate sparking glance flashing between them. Kitten lets herself feel brave, and reaches around to unfasten the clasp behind Elizabeth's neck, then steps back. Elizabeth's gown slides off her shoulders and down her body with a sigh, leaving her wearing only thigh-high stockings, her own stiletto heels, and all her jewelry. Kitten is struck again by how much the woman sparkles: ear-rings, necklace, bracelet, belly-jewel, even anklets. She radiates like a harem queen. She sparkles like treasure.

But the real treasure rises and falls gently with her breath - her breasts, their beauty now fully revealed. Kitten feels a new want surge through her, and she itches to keep touching. She brings a hand up to caress the heavy, round flesh. She squeezes both breasts gently, her mouth hanging open, thumbs flicking over sensitive nipples, lost in the silky sensation of Elizabeth's skin against her palm.

She flickers her gaze up to meet Elizabeth's eye. "God you're beautiful," she whispers.

An easy, warm smile. "Thank you, my dear. So are you." Elizabeth strokes Kitten's hair once, then pulls the young woman's head ever-so-gently down against herself.

The musky-sweet smell of the Elizabeth's skin fills her nostrils as she looks at one plump nipple and flicks it with her tongue. Elizabeth sighs. She then takes the whole thing in her mouth, sucking gently. She begins to feel lightheaded, drunk on the salty-sweet taste of this woman's skin.

"Mmmmmmm, you are good at that." Elizabeth breaths.

The words give her confidence, and she starts to nibble. A gasp, a quiet moan, the vibration tingling against her cheek. She smiles to herself as she moves to the other nipple, repeating her attentions, and letting herself get lost in the sensation of giving pleasure to a beautiful woman

Kitten's glides her hand up Elizabeth's leg to cup her naked pussy, so soft, tender. Some part of her is nervous, never having been like this with a woman, but she feels an electric surge of instinct. Her porn-fueled plan feels far away. She lets it go, and lets herself just feel, moving her fingers in a teasing, pulsing circle. Hot juices flood her palm. A surge of pride and animal energy pulses through her, filling her with energy, with magic.

"Come, lovely girl," Elizabeth says with a soft voice and heavy-lidded eyes, "Let's move to the couch."

Elizabeth sits Kitten down next to her father, leaning over to give Nick a deep, soulful kiss. "You made a beautiful daughter Nick," she breathes, then looks at Kitten and winks "I bet she tastes as good as she looks."

Nick chuckles, "She does."

With that, Elizabeth leans over Kitten, lightly dragging the fingernails of one hand from side to side-across her collarbone, across her nipples, up her ribcage, down the outside of one thigh, up the inside of the other thigh, back up between her breasts. The touch is like fire and wind, and Kitten's body arches into it, magnetic. Her lips seek the other woman, and suddenly that delicious tongue is back in Kitten's mouth, searching, swirling, playing. She inhales deeply, filling herself with the woman's musky sweetness, wrapping her hand around the back of her head to pull her closer. The kiss feels like rebirth. The kiss feels like. . . coming home.

Elizabeth gently pulls back, dragging her lips down Kitten's throat and around one breast, curling her tongue deftly around the nipple. Kitten's eyes drift shut as heat and sweetness thrill through her. The hot mouth continues its journey around Kitten's other breast, teasing and and biting, breath dancing hot across the skin like prayer.

Elizabeth moves her attention down Kitten's body, fingernails lightly scraping over her ribcage as she kneels on the floor in front of the younger woman, three tracks of sensation zinging across her skin like shooting stars. Hot, wet pressure teases her belly-button for a brief, teasing moment. Kitten whimpers and squirms, thrusting her hips forward, her pussy aching for more.