Kat's Transformation Pt. 01

"Fuck! Bummer!" he said. "That was fucking hot, Kate! Don't stop it now!"

"Don't worry," she assured him, "the show's just begun. But now I want you to do something for me." She paused for dramatic effect. "And it's kinda kinky. I want you to take off all your clothes and lean over the ottoman for the next part of the film."

"What's gotten into you?" he queried, trying to disguise how keenly she'd suddenly piqued his interest. "You aren't yourself tonight. But, hey, that's okay! Your wish is my command - if that's how you want to play it. I'm in!" Excited, he stripped in record time, positioned the ottoman, got on his knees and propped his elbows on the ottoman facing the screen. Before Kat hit play again she spoke.

"Before I start the main attraction, I have a confession. I opened up your fortune cookies tonight. I want to read them to you."

"I like this one: 'When you speak honestly and openly, others truly listen to you.'"

Mark thought this was kind of weird, a strange detour from the existing mood, but he was excited about being naked and was eager to see the next video and see what Kat had up her sleeve.

"Oooh, and here's a good one, 'The greatest danger could be your stupidity.'" The mood changed instantly. And then, without missing a beat, she continued.

"By the way, did you and Becky win the shot drinking competition?" she asked, not so innocently. Then she waited. And waited. There was no verbal reaction. Total silence. Still, she waited. Mark remained paralyzed in his spot, afraid to speak, afraid to look at her, afraid to move. Fucking busted! No longer aroused, he stared ahead without expression, suddenly flaccid dick in hand.

Finally, Kat broke the strained silence. "Here's an especially appropriate one - 'Keep in close touch with what your competition is doing.' I stay aware of my competition - that would be Becky. Do you know how humiliated I was when my friend showed me live video of you cavorting with her? Do you have any idea how disappointed I am? Disappointed in how stupid you are? You have filet mignon and fine wine waiting for you here and you're out scarfing fast food hamburgers and swilling stale warm beer." She'd planned that remark and was proud of it.

Still no response from Mark. But, oddly, she thought she detected a subtle change in his demeanor as she dressed him down. His initial fear, she sensed, was giving way to an acknowledged contrition.

"So, Becky's my competition, and I think I stack up just fine. But I want you to be aware of your competition. Mark, you're about to meet Tom. And while you watch you're going to jerk off for me. And while you watch and jerk off, I'm going to remind you about some mistakes you've made this evening." And with that admonition, she observed more closely. Over the initial stun of her revelation, he began to appear genuinely cooperative, seemingly eager to atone for his transgressions. To her surprise, he began rubbing his cock again, without further incitement. She sensed that he was embracing his helplessness before her, his submission to her, her unfolding domination.

As she'd planned, Kat produced a riding crop, a relic of her horse-riding youth, and slapped it into the palm of her hand. "Jerk off, slave. And when I finally tell you to cum, I want you to spew every drop into this shot glass here." She slammed down a shot glass on the table, the one she and Tom had been drinking from. He nodded his head agreeably and she couldn't help but notice that he was responding in an unmistakably and undeniably penitent manner. Hell, he seemed suddenly to relish her objurgation. Amazingly, not only did he continue to stroke his dick in resigned tribute, he was also getting harder and becoming more aroused with each additional rebuke. She knew him well enough to detect these reactions. And she suddenly marveled how comfortable it felt to embrace this role of domination.

"You wanted a bossy bitch, you've got it. And after you cum in this shot glass, you're going to drink it, every last fucking drop." She mustered a sarcastic tone. "Maybe you can invite Becky over to do the shot with you." Mark continued stroking his cock. He assessed the situation. She could read him pretty well - and she knew he was getting more aroused. He couldn't hide it. What she was doing to him excited him into a panting sweat. This was a custom-ordered version of his fantasy dominatrix.

"And when we go to bed tonight, you're going to sleep at the foot of the bed, on the floor, with just a single blanket and a pillow. And you'll fetch anything I tell you to." Remarkably, she had him in the palm of her hand, and he seemed more agreeable with every upbraiding. He was descending into and embracing his role. And she was really warming up to hers, both for the satisfaction of payback and out of growing curiosity.

He was vaguely aware of Kat's voice. "And for the foreseeable future you're going to do my bidding until I decide you've had enough. And if you don't like these terms, you can gather your shit and go sleep in the garage." And with that utterance of her terms and his penance, she waited. Mark was still frozen, aside from pumping his dick with ever more fervor.

"And the only peep I want to hear out of you for the rest of the night consists of two, simple words - 'Yes, Ma'am.' Nothing else, nothing more." She paused again. "Do you understand."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"So, are you ready to begin?" she demanded. About ten seconds passed. He wanted to appear to be considering his fate. Actually, he was cherishing wild thoughts of Becky and, even more so, relishing this new dominating persona of Kat, all the while masturbating. Then he mumbled.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm not sure I heard you. Make it very clear to me that you understand what's going to happen."

"Yes, Ma'am!" he proclaimed in a clear, deep and willing tone, as he took in her demanding voice.

And as Mark agreed to respond only with a "Yes, Ma'am," Kat restarted the video. She and a handsome and virile-looking young man were sitting at their kitchen table. Her video version spoke.

"Well, bub. Let's get after it." Mark watched as she poured a shot of tequila and the two of them proceeded to play a version of the game he'd just played with Becky at the Roundup Bar. Questions bombarded his consciousness. How did she see him and Becky at the bar? How much else did she know? Had she spoken with Becky? And was that the Chinese delivery kid on the screen? All these questions cascaded into Mark's brain but were interrupted by a meaningful riding crop whack on his bare ass and a reference to what was going on in the film. He watched the screen with lustful fascination. He became involuntarily mesmerized by the woman he knew as his somewhat straight-laced suburban wife, transformed on screen into this vamp intent on seducing a handsome young stud. And he became equally mesmerized by the domineering woman behind him, scolding and berating him like a subservient underling. He had no idea just how far she was going to go, both with the guy on the screen and with him in the here and now. He guessed that Kat had made her point on both counts. He suspected both would surely end soon. Yet both continued.

He became strangely aroused as the woman on the screen upped the ante with each shot of booze and then escalated the sexual tension even more with a wanton game of fortune cookies. He stroked his cock and watched in disbelief.

After several fortunes and accompanying probing of fingers, he heard her read, "Decide what you want and go for it.'"

And then, with a sultry leer the actress on the screen said, "Stand up!" She hurriedly unbuckled the young man's belt, unsnapped his pants, unzipped him and pulled his trousers and shorts down his legs. Still sitting, her face was inches from his naked crotch. Fulfilling the cookie's fortune, she proceeded to flatter him.

"Oh my!" To which he replied,

"You mean the bald look?" he asked. "It's a swimmer's thing."

And then she complimented him. "Tom, you've got the best-looking cock I've seen in years." The thinly veiled put-down didn't elude Mark. "And among the finest specimens I've seen in my life." With that, she pulled the young man's hips toward her face. Mark was incredulous but hypnotized and enthralled.

Whack! The crop diverted his attention as Kat spoke. "Now there's a cock that women dream about." Whack! Mark masturbated and watched in amazement, confusion and desperation. "And boy, does that lady ever give great head! Just ask any of her gentlemen lovers," she mocked in a cruel, edgy tone.

And Kat, the promiscuous on-screen actress, began sucking the young fellow's cock.

Mark was humiliated at being forced to watch his wife seduce another man, one half his age. Yet, it was obvious, both to himself and his spouse, that he was incredibly turned on. The dominatrix behind him was awakening all kinds of repressed desires in him. And the Kat on screen was so sexy, so seductive...and nasty. So fucking nasty! He'd never seen this side of her. He could scarcely believe it was Kat. Why didn't she ever act like that with him, he wondered? Was it an alter ego she hid from him? Or could he himself be to blame? Had he only known he had such a bombshell under his own roof! He imagined the vapid Becky and compared her in his mind to this alluring vixen on the screen. Becky was a mere trollop. Then he compared Becky to the oh-so-real wolf behind him now who was demanding a pound of flesh for his silly, reckless fling. Becky was common white trash to the sophisticated, multi-faceted, intriguing, tempting, bewitching and demanding baroness Kat. He marveled with voyeuristic lust at what she did on screen. And he reveled in what she was doing to him in person.

He continued jerking as the young man beveled his head back in ecstasy when she began sucking his balls. The on-screen strumpet made eye contact with the camera and posed a lecherous sneer. He knew it was intended for him. It was so sexy.

At that moment the erotic woman on the screen ceased her oral treatment, disappeared from the table, went to and opened the refrigerator inexplicably, and instructed Tom. "Turn off the video, bring it to my bedroom and set it up. You're going to take off your clothes and come to bed with me. We're going to fuck and we're going to film it." The young man stood, disappeared from the screen, and all went dark. Kat stopped the tape.

"Are you jerking off?" Kat demanded in the present.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Does Becky turn you on?"

Mark hesitated. He said nothing. Kat proceeded with a flurry of sharp whacks on his ass. She was feeling more and more secure...and raunchy...in her role as Domme. She felt powerful. In total control. In charge.

"Two fucking words!" Whack - whack "How hard is it? Does Becky turn you on?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he cried. He knew he was trapped. Becky did turn him on. She had played Domme to his submissive side. A fantasy he thought Kat could never deliver. A fetish she was unwilling to indulge in. Until...

"Do you like to suck her tits?" He hesitated only a second this time.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Do you like it when she sucks your dick?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he lied, as Becky had told him that he'd have to beg for a long time to enjoy that privilege.

"What else would you like to do with her?" The only response available to him made no sense. He suddenly yearned to tell Kat the whole truth about his relationship with Becky. Yes, it was sordid, but perhaps not as bad as she thought. Becky had subbed him, as a dominatrix does, and that is what held the allure. Still, he stayed mute.

Kat grunted in disgust and restarted the action on the screen again. Their bed was framed in the camera's view. Two naked bodies writhed and intertwined. There was oral sex in myriad positions. Especially vivid in the camera's eye were the variety of imaginative blowjobs she was ministering. Kat whacked Mark's ass again and continued the interrogation.

"Don't you think I'm prettier than Becky?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He liked being able to reply with complete honesty.

"Do I kiss better?"

And then, before he had time to answer, more questions in rapid succession.

"Do I give better head?"

Paralyzed silence. The question made no sense.

"Do I fuck better?"

Dumfounded silence. He'd never fucked Becky. It was more complicated than that. But here he was now, Kat was the prosecutor and he was the hapless, manipulated defendant.

Dissatisfied with his silence, Kat implored again, "Do I suck and fuck better than Becky?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he was forced to reply.

Whack! Whack! Whack! She shredded all reticence and embraced her role. A feeling of power welled up inside her.

"Does it turn you on when you see me act like that on screen?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Relief! Finally, a question he could answer honestly.

"Do you want me to do it more often?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he was forced again to reply.

Mark stared in disbelief at the screen. His wife, Kat, began fucking the handsome young man. Mark was flabbergasted at how his wife implored the young man as he positioned himself between her wide-spread legs. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me deep." The young man's cock, an impressive specimen indeed, disappeared into his wife's cunt, withdrew and slid back in, over and over and over, while she panted and urged him on. They drove their hips in unison, magically matching intensity and speed with each thrust. It sounded a bit like the smacking of a seal's flippers. They both appeared consumed by the experience.

Whack! "Look, she's fucking that guy! Are you jacking off?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Does it turn you on to watch your wife getting royally fucked?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Is it better than a tryst with little Becky?"

Another of those unfair questions to which he just couldn't respond.

"I said, is watching me get fucked by another guy better than an outing with that slut?" Kat repeated.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied subserviently.

She was getting into it. She thought to herself, "Humiliation and degradation he wants - it's humiliation and degradation he'll get."

"Next time I fuck the delivery boy I might have you witness it in person. Would you like to watch while a real man fucks me?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Kat couldn't help but notice how Mark's breaths had become short and shallow and that he was terrifically excited.

"Will you jack off while I'm getting fucked, just like now?

"Yes, Ma'am." She couldn't resist more insulting and threatening gibes.

"You know that after he fucks me, I might have you go down on me. Just imagine slurping up all my juices with some guy's cum mixed in. That would turn you on, wouldn't it?" He couldn't believe what she was saying and he was ashamed yet impassioned as he agreed.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She was turning him on more than he could admit to himself. And she was becoming ever more aware of his predilection for submissiveness. She was diabolical in her approach. She was turning him on, invigorating in him bizarre and curious desires he'd always kept at bay, at least from Kat.

On the screen, there was some communication that Mark missed. Tom dismounted his wife and stood by the bed with a raging hard on. Kat stepped aside and returned momentarily with the plate of food. It was his Happy Family dinner. She held it beneath Tom's cock as she implored him to jack off for her.

"Come on, Tom, you've been great. Finish off for me. Jerk it, baby. Come on! Tell me when you're gonna blow and I'll finish you off."

No sooner had the actress spoken than the young porn star grunted, "I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!" Expertly, the on-screen Kat took his dick in her free hand and started pumping. He spewed a forceful jet which she aimed directly into her husband's dinner. She took the next explosion in her mouth, and what didn't dribble out onto the plate of food she sloshed in her mouth and then spit into the dish, mixed with her own saliva. She alternated direct shots of cum from his dick into the food with globs from her own mouth, regurgitated into the Happy Family. Her revenge revealed, Kat whispered to Mark as she spanked him yet again.

"Did you enjoy your dinner tonight?" Whack!

"Yes, Ma'am." He was shocked and repulsed. Yet the lengths to which his wife would obviously go, the perversity she was capable of, inflamed his libido. Who was this woman? What would she do to him next? He stroked his hardon in anticipation.

He watched the screen as Kat the actress carefully set aside the dish of Chinese food, the dinner he had relished not more than thirty minutes ago. And then, on screen, an amazing thing happened, amazing at least to Mark. Tom remained standing by the side of the bed. Kat sat down in front of him and began blowing him. She grabbed his butt cheeks with her fingers and squeezed. Then she clasped his balls and tugged on them. (She'd learned earlier what a turn-on that was for him.) Then she caressed his cheeks again. Little by little he grew back to the size and rigidity that he had before his climax of minutes before. Hard like a baseball bat, she thought. She licked up and down his shaft and said wickedly, "Can you fuck me again?" she asked.

"Oh, you bet I can!" Tom answered with complete self-assurance.

He hesitated not a second, mounting her, entering and thrusting in and out, slowly at first, but before long like the proverbial jack hammer. He could hear his wife, the actress, imploring her young lover.

"Cum inside me. Fill me up with your cum! Give it to me!" The build-up took some time. But eventually the young stud's grunts indicated that he did just as she'd implored him. He came deep inside her. Eventually he slowed down but stayed mounted and inside of her for a good minute. Their breathing gradually slowed. They both rose and she walked toward the video camera. The screen went dark. Kat stopped the video. Her voice took on a derisive tone.

"Time for dessert now, Mark. Tom filled me with all that nice young cum just before you got home. Now I'm going to share it with you, you're going down on me and you're gonna make sure I enjoy every second of it. I'm gonna give you step by step instructions and you're gonna do it exactly the way I like. Right?"

Mark was psychologically exhausted, a beaten man. Her revenge was exquisite. His indignity complete. And to cap it all off, he knew that she knew how frenzied she'd made him.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She sat back in the big, comfy recliner, hiked up her skirt and told her husband to get to it. He placed himself in front of her on all fours. She possessed all the power. He was helpless.

"Start with the alphabet. Spell out each letter of the alphabet with your tongue, on my pussy, to warm me up." He worked his way slowly through the letters as her moisture became ever more heated. She tasted like sex. She issued painstaking instructions on certain letters and whacked his back with the crop whenever his attention to detail was imperfect. It was a most gratifying ending to her evening. After completing the alphabet she had him go deep. She made him fuck her hole with his tongue and then lick the letter "i" from the back of his tongue to the very tip, long and slow. She came after mere minutes of this carefully crafted attention. And she implored him. "Suck up all that cum. Lick up my lover's cum. Swallow it!" He was obedient. She slowed him by squeezing his head between her thighs and convulsed in waves of lechery.

When she regained her senses following an orgasmic climax she grabbed his head of hair and rubbed it, much like one would affectionately reward a family pet for obeying a command.

"See, you can be such a good boy. You did a good job," she commended. Then she ordered him yet again.

"Now jerk off into that shot glass so you can enjoy your own cum!" Whack!

He was beside himself with lust, much of which, he had to admit, was inspired by her domination. He jerked off feverishly. The sights, sounds, tastes, smells and memories of the evening had strangely piqued his own arousal. He yanked on his dick with abandon. He was on the verge of cumming. As always, she knew his ejaculation was imminent.