How Kitty Kat Became a Slut Pt. 04

[My apologies for the inordinately long break in this story's new chapter. I hope this partly makes up for it.]

***

Dan watched from the driver's seat of his car as his 18 year-old girlfriend strode over to meet him, and not for the first time, silently congratulated himself. He looked on, amused, as an older man on the pavement, walking with his small children, almost walked into a lamp post as Kat sashayed past him on her high heels, and the mesmerised father tried and failed not to stare helplessly in her wake at her long, endless legs and her swaying, pert buttocks nestling within her very, very short skirt.

And it was a *very* short skirt, Dan noted. While he had been back from university this summer he had noticed his girlfriend's clothes had started to become a little... well, how to put this? Slutty. There was no other word for it.

Shorter and shorter skirts, higher heels, tops that showed off her (and this wasn't up for debate) fabulous, deep cleavage. She wore more make-up too. Thicker, darker lipstick, false eyelashes, plenty of lip gloss, more eye shadow. And her hair seemed to be permanently tousled. She never wore it up any more. Said her boss "didn't like it".

Dan would never have said it out loud but he couldn't help thinking she looked less and less like the shy, modest girl he had started dating a year earlier before he went to university and more and more like a wannabe porn actress (albeit a really hot one). Part of him hated it. And part of him (one particular part) secretly loved it.

His own personal preferences in the porn department were for the slightly older woman. The experienced milf who liked to prey on younger men. He liked his pornographic cocksuckers a little more experienced, albeit just as wonderfully stacked as his own girlfriend, whose miraculous breasts were a source of real joy for Dan. His cock twitched in his briefs as he watched Kat approach and saw her cleavage jiggle imperceptibly in the tight white shirt she had undone a few buttons on.

Despite all this, Dan prided himself on being (so he thought) a progressive, liberal kind of a guy. A new man. So while he wouldn't have dared to tell his girlfriend what she could and couldn't wear, the problem was that he couldn't fight the throbbing, primeval response of jealousy that coursed through him whenever he thought about Kat in her new summer internship at the company her father worked for. Or the man she seemed to work every hour for.

Joe. That was his name. Joe Fitzgerald. Dan hadn't even met him and he already hated him with a burning passion. He had lost count of the times over the last few weeks where Joe had called him personally to let him know that his girlfriend was going to have to cancel on him that evening. Dan couldn't get over how pleased he sounded each time.

He watched Kat walk round to the passenger seat. She looked tired. Joe was working her like a dog and it made Dan sick. If the guy hadn't been old enough to be her grandad - what was he, in his 50s or something, she'd said? - he might have been suspicious. But the idea that some old man might be trying it on with his super-hot teenage PA? Unthinkable. No, he was just annoyed at the guy's smug voice each time he called. And the fact that Kat was so busy he'd barely been alone with her since she started there.

"Hello sir," Kat batted her eyelashes at Dan, jolting him out of his reverie, as she sat down in the passenger seat, "Are you my ride?"

She crossed her legs, enjoying the feel of her nylon stockings against her legs, and, beyond the bare flesh of her thighs as she uncrossed them, the throbbing tight wetness of her pussy within her tiny black satin panties. A month into her new life as Joe's slut (as she was starting to think of it), she almost couldn't remember what it was like not to be permanently aroused. Constantly soaking.

What Kat didn't realise yet was that Zoe was micro-dosing her daily with a hormone treatment that one of the agency's pharma clients was currently bringing to market. The result was that Kat's already-healthy sex drive had gone berserk and when she wasn't being fucked every which way by her new 'daddy', she spent every spare minute feverishly trying and failing not to think about being fucked every which way by her new daddy.

It had been nearly a month now since Joe had taken her for the first time. And pretty much every working day since. In truth, although she would not admit it to anyone, she wanted to call him daddy. Longed to please him. It was all she could do not to beg.

She longed to feel him ride her hard, and fuck her like the slut she could feel herself becoming. She loved to crawl across the floor of his office each day, her firm, fuckable arse in the air, on her hands and knees, enjoying the look of naked lust on Joe's face. She was desperate to envelop his cock with her mouth, her lip gloss thick as she wrapped her lips around his balls, sucking them into her mouth and then slowly running her lips along his huge, sticky shaft, staring up at him as she did so, obediently.

She was desperate to feel his hand on her head, pushing her down, feeding her willing mouth with his throbbing cock. To make her throat an altar for his thick length of meat. Staring up at him as she did it adoringly, proving her devotion, yearning for his approval and longing to taste his hot seed flood her mouth and senses.

As she had spiralled down into this kind of submission, Joe had rewarded her by taking her out after work, believing her spirit to be as good as broken. These evenings involved Kat changing her outfits at the end of the working day before they went out, a job that sometimes Joe insisted on doing himself for her.

He would chain her up in the hidden, soundproofed room next to his office, her hands cuffed high above her head, and undress her greedily, his hands all over her, forcing his fingers into her panties as she moaned, sliding them off her over her firm, inviting cheeks, forcing his cock between her legs, her wet, aching pussy lips betraying her excitement. Other times he would be less gentle and she would feel his hands savagely tearing off her panties as he growled his orders at her, his lust uncontrollable, her submission complete.

Then, after riding her until she was nearly senseless and filling her with his cum, he would tell her to shower and then dress in that night's outfit while he watched, his cock nearly hard again already for the evening's fun.

She had eaten out in some of the finest restaurants in the city, alone with her new daddy, but increasingly accompanying Joe as he entertained male clients (they were always male). She could feel their hungry eyes on her as they met her, smiling and laughing with Joe about his new assistant. She could see the dawning light in their eyes as they drank more and disappeared off with Joe to snort some lines.

She would sit there and try to ignore how wet her tiny satin panties were through the meal, how she ached for Joe's cock, how she shamelessly flirted with him and the others, delighting in the shocked looks on some of the other people around her, once they realised that this teenager was there, not as a daughter, but as a lust object to the middle-aged men around her.

She realised that she was the bright object that all these old, powerful men orbited around, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the power she felt it gave her. On the evenings Zoe was there, Kat almost found herself resentful of the undoubted distraction the older, confident woman posed.

Joe kept her busy though. He would take her off to the bathroom at least once during the night, under the approving, jealous gaze of the other men. Lead her off. His prize. There she would, as she had been trained to, submit to him. Do whatever he wanted. Her mouth, her lips, her throat, her pussy, her arse. Offering up her perfect, lithe, pneumatic body to him like a sacrifice.

And he would greedily take her, fucking her in one of the stalls so enthusiastically that anyone who came into the bathroom could hear. Hear her moans and his grunting and panting as he fucked her harder and harder, until he came, satisfying himself that she was still his to do with exactly as he pleased.

Kat had grown used to the fact that Joe seemed to be able to get away with whatever he liked in what was, essentially, a public space (albeit one where Joe's agency spent so much money that the usual rules didn't apply to him). Tittyfucking, anal, hand jobs, all fours, the list was endless. They had done it all. He seemed to particularly enjoy fucking her face in places like this.

And as she knelt on the floor of these Michelin restaurant bathroom floors, on her hands and knees, hearing someone just outside but looking up at her panting, sweating drunken master as she choked on his thick, near-insatiable cock, his hands yanking her glossy brunette hair, pulling her ever-deeper onto his shaft, his balls slapping her chin, she realised again the two things she had first thought that first night he had fucked her mouth in the nightclub. No-one was coming to save her. Ever. And deep down now, in parts of herself she could never, ever admit to, she didn't want anyone to.

And as he came, gasping loudly, moments later, flooding her throat and mouth with his hot salty seed until she choked on it, still not pulling his length out, delighting in her throat's gagging tightness as she tried to breathe, his huge cock lodged deep inside her, invading her, she was aware of men's footsteps just feet away and she felt dirty beyond anything she had ever known, and satisfied like no-one else ever had been able to. She both hated and loved the feel of his large, heavy hand on the back of her head, holding her just where he wanted her, restraining her, forcing her to take his cock all the way into her throat. Helpless to resist.

"Good girl" he would gasp, as he fucked her face, jerking and bucking as he eventually came, standing over her, both hands on her head as he kept sliding his dick between her lips and into her throat. Until another piece of her disappeared, to be replaced by someone else. Someone much, much worse than she could possibly have imagined.

Afterwards, as she felt a torrent of his seed and her saliva stream in rivulets down between her sticky, pert tits, he would make her lovingly clean his penis with her lips, sucking him until it was dry, staring up into his eyes as she did it. Loving the submission.

Only then was she allowed to clean herself up, adjusting her dress, putting her bra back on, her panties too (Joe sometimes liked to slide them off, ball them up and force them slowly into her mouth as he fucked her relentlessly from behind to silence her), touching up her make-up, making sure that she looked flawless again as she walked back out into the room, feeling the gaze of every man in the room on her as she returned to the table for the final humiliation, to hear him regaling them with all the details of what had just happened.

They would sit there delightedly, the two or three men around him, usually opposite Joe. Kat would take her place next to him, seeing the naked lust on their faces. Joe would talk and they would stare at her, their eyes hungrily roaming up and down her body as he talked, living every thrust of his cock, every gasp, every degradation.

Zoe's eyes would twinkle while he talked, enjoying every second. "Kitty Kat loves it when you titfuck her, don't you?" she smiled at the teenager. "Tell these men how big those breasts are. Come on, don't be shy now. I bet you weren't just now when you were on your knees in there."

The men laughed.

"32D," Kat said. She had been nicknamed the 'Brunette Barbie' at school, her long, long legs, slim waist and ample, perfect tits making her an all-too-obvious choice for the moniker.

"What was that?" Joe said sharply. His hand under the table grasped her thigh tightly. "Speak up for these gentlemen."

So she repeated it louder. And Joe would explain to them all what he had made her do in calm, complete, pornographic detail, and all the while his hand would roam freely and slowly between her legs, under her skirt, rubbing the wet satin against her throbbing wet lips until she would catch her breath and the men would laugh, totally aware of what Joe was doing.

Joe had shown absolutely no inclination to share her with any of these men. His 'storytelling' was just that - an attempt to humiliate her for sexual kicks while proving his total power and libido to the other men. And god help Kat if she didn't show absolute fealty to her lord and master. A lesson she had learned just two nights earlier.

She and Joe had been out entertaining Brutus Jones, the powerful black owner of the Brutus sportswear brand and one of Joe's agency's most lucrative clients. He was the only man Kat had ever seen Joe show a flicker of deference to.

He was a broad, powerfully-built man in his late 40s, nearly 2 metres tall, his ebony skin as dark as night. Kat felt the strength in his arms as he lightly embraced her on meeting her. "Well goodness Joseph," he laughed, his eyes never leaving Kat's, "What have we here? Is this delectable piece of ripe vanilla cheesecake for your favourite client?"

Kat blushed. She had heard much, much worse recently, but his piercing gaze and obvious muscularity unnerved her. Brutus barely took his eyes off her for the next hour.

Joe was rough with her in the bathroom that night. He made her bend over, hands on the wall, as he spat onto her cheeks, "You seem to like our new guest tonight Kitty Kat." He slid his cock up and down between her slicked buttocks as Kat shook her head. "Well," he said, "Let's see how you like this."

He pulled her hair back hard, making her arch her back as he simultaneously slid himself forcefully and quickly all the way into her anus from behind, keeping her panties on, pulled tight across her thighs, her sphincter full of his thrusting length.

Kat tried not to scream, barely able to catch her breath at the size and ferocity of his thrusts. She had, she admitted to herself, found herself slightly giddy from the newcomer's laser-like attention, and she realised too late, panting, that this was the price that she would have to pay.

After he finished, minutes later, pulling his cock out to erupt all over her red lace panties and cheeks, he wiped himself clean on the lace and walked out of the stall, leaving her still bent over and shuddering from her own fierce orgasm.

--

She snapped out of her daydream now at Dan's slightly curt response. "Is that, err, suitable for the party?" he asked, looking at her dubiously as she stretched out in the car. "I mean, you look amazing but you might give your old boss a heart attack," he laughed, stroking her stocking-ed thigh. "Do you really need to wear stockings?" he asked, suspicion hovering in his voice.

"I thought you liked me in them?" Kat smiled, stroking his cock through his trousers and leaning over to kiss him hard on the mouth.

Her flirty confidence with Dan masked the lurching feeling in her stomach as she contemplated the Saturday afternoon ahead of them. All she knew was that Joe's house was the stuff of legend in the agency. She remembered it had a pool and tennis courts from when she'd visited a few years ago with her parents. "I'll have to take you there one weekend when my wife's away," Joe had muttered, panting, into her ear as he had bent her over on the floor of his office the night before last, "We'll have so much fun."

Kat shivered as she remembered the feel of his hands on her black satin suspender belt, his strong fingers grasping at her open, inviting cheeks as he thrust all 8 inches of his cock between them. She felt the slick between her thighs and re-crossed her legs. Concentrate, she thought. You're with Dan today. This is just going to be a work party. That's all it is. Nothing will happen while Dan's there. She was worried to find that at least a small part of her was disappointed at that realisation.

Thankfully her mother had been out this morning when she got ready for the party, wearing this latest outfit provided by Zoe. Otherwise God knows what she'd have made of the tiny skirt that barely covered her cheeks, the stockings it barely covered the tops of and the valley of cleavage on show. Her father was away seeing a client, so at least there was no danger of meeting him there. It was his fault she was in this nightmare to begin with, after all.

She mustn't think of her father, anyway. Because then all she could see in her mind's eye were the dozens of videos Zoe gleefully showed her constantly, of all the times Zoe and he had fucked, accompanied by Zoe's commentary.

Zoe would take great delight in showing her the ones where she had been in Kat's family home when she and her mother were away, dressing her 36 year-old curves in Kat's own clothes.

"Look at me in your panties," she would giggle to Kat, as they watched footage of Tom fucking Zoe's mouth hard, Zoe on her hands and knees in front of him. Kat had been forced to watch hours of it. The shock had long since worn off, but she remembered every word of Zoe's taunting, threatening commentary as she watched her father fuck this woman in Kat's bedroom, wearing her panties, coming all over her, pulling her head back as he unloaded his seed in her throat, seeking to dominate her as Zoe had trained him to do. As Zoe herself liked to be fucked.

"Look at Tom fucking me in them, calling me your name," she would leer as they watched Tom's cock pumping in and out of Zoe's cheeks, Kat's own panties pulled tight across Zoe's firm arse.

"What would it be like to have that cock in your mouth? Feel its tip sliding down your throat?" taunted Zoe. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

Kat didn't dare answer.

---

Half an hour's drive later they cruised down the drive towards Joe's house. Not the only large thing about him then, thought Kat as she saw it, thinking fleetingly of how disappointing Dan's perfectly respectable six inches now were in comparison to her new daddy's thick length of meat, "Which belongs to me now," she smiled to herself, before feeling shocked at her own possessiveness.

"Do you know how many people are going to be there today?" Dan asked as they got out of the car and walked up the steps to the imposing front door. Kat realised that she didn't know anything about today other than that Joe seemed to be looking forward to it, and even claimed to be looking forward to meeting Dan.

"Do you think he realises?" Joe had asked her during the week, as Kat rang her tongue slowly up the long, thick shaft of his cock and greedily sucked the ooze of pre-cum from the tip of his dick. She swallowed. "No, daddy," was her response. What else could she say? "Good." Joe had grunted approvingly, his hand on the back of her head suddenly, his cock engulfing her mouth as he began to grind into her mouth and fuck her face.

Lost in her daydream for a moment, it was with a shock that Kat saw Zoe open the door, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Her smile was pretty much the only thing she was wearing. She saw Dan's jaw drop open, and to be fair, she could see why.

The 36 year-old looked incredible, even by her own ageless standards. She had somehow managed to pour her curves into one of the smallest bikinis Kat had ever seen, and Kat had owned some pretty skimpy bikinis in her time. Although she didn't often wear them with high heels and a diamond choker, as Zoe was doing here.

There were no two ways about it: Zoe's oiled, glistening body was wearing the hell out of this tiny white bikini, the bottoms held in place by the gold chain that sat on both her hips and connected the miniscule bikini panties on either side. But it was her breasts that had momentarily mesmerised Dan. Barely contained by the two small pieces of white cloth, her slicked, moist, perfect cleavage was an amazing sight.