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My Name is Kitten by RH Music Colin gets ensnared by an executive dating service to fill the very particular needs of a wealthy, high-end client. Soon, Colin is giving the client the full "Girlfriend Experience"... Chapter 1: My name is Colin I was new in town and was starting my first job out of University and had met Amy and Todd in a local pub. We fell into conversation about Man United and I discovered they were relatively new in town as well. Amy was a bright and interesting woman, with large glasses, straight, shoulder-length hair and an intelligent look. Todd, her husband, was more intellectual, tall and gaunt, like Jeremy Irons. They were both extremely well read and always ready with an insightful comment. "What do you do for a living?" I asked. "Oh, this and that," Amy said. "We run a matchmaking web site," Todd said. Amy looked sharply at Todd, who just shrugged his shoulders. "For extremely wealthy, discerning clients." "Oh, that's interesting." We talked about computers for a while, since that's what I do. Even though I'm only an administrator, I vaguely know about big data and web-based market analytics. I found it incredible the vast amount of data they processed to find 'just the right match'. This was a highly sophisticated, "white glove" operation. "Come over and have dinner with us tomorrow," Amy invited, looking meaningfully at Todd. "Really?" I was grateful for the invitation. I was pretty lonely every since leaving Uni. Provincial English towns are usually pretty closed-off communities and the company I worked for was small. I hadn't been able to make any friends yet. "Definitely. We're holding a party for some of our customers in the area," Amy said. "But if you don't mind," Todd hesitated. "These folks are... well, they're rather posh. Could you... would it be too much to ask..." "You would need to shave," said Amy. "Shave very closely. Also wear a decent shirt and some nice trousers or, better, a suit." I didn't own a suit. "Oh, sure," I said, taken aback by their request. Maybe this is what was meant by moving up in society? *** "Am I the first?" I asked, as Todd let me into their nice two-story, double fronted terraced house on a beautiful, tree-lined crescent. "Yes. Party starts at 8:30," he said. "Oh crap, I thought it started at 8, I'm sorry. I must have..." I stumbled, feeling stupid, "got it wrong." "No problem at all. Here, have a drink!" Todd pushed a margarita into my hands. I took a tentative sip. It was bitter but sweet and tasted extremely alcoholic. "You can help Amy in the kitchen." I took another couple of sips and found my way to Amy. "Colin, you're here!" she said, giving me a hug. She was just finishing plating some hors d'oeuvres. "I see you have one of Todd's famous margaritas! They're wicked good, aren't they? Have another sip." "It is good," I said, taking a couple more sips. The alcohol was making me woozy. I looked around the kitchen. Other than the one plate of hors d'oeuvres and some soup on the stove, not much was being prepared. "Can I help?" I asked, slurring my words slightly. "Oh, that's sweet of you, but I think I have everything well in hand," she said. "Now take another sip of your delicious margarita, why don't you?" Another sip. Wow, it certainly was STRONG. I was getting a pretty strong buzz already. "Who is coming to the party?" I asked, holding onto a chair to steady myself. The walls seemed to be gently rotating. "Well, it's not so much a party as an intimate get together. In fact, the only other person coming to the party is Mr. Damien." "Mr... D.... Da... Dam.... Damien?" I asked, finally getting his entire name out. "Who is he?" "He's one of our clients, and he has some very exacting requirements." "Exacting... requirements? What do you mean?" I asked. "Oh, nothing to worry your little head about," Amy said. She stepped close to me and put an arm around my waist. She then gently lifted the glass in my hand to my lips. "Now drink all of your margarita, Colin," she said softly. I felt the remainder of the slushy liquid go down my throat. "That's my good girl." "What's going on?" I asked, closing my eyes so the room stopped spinning. "Hush, nothing. Now Mr. Kirk Damien will be here soon, and he is the most amazing person in the world, Colin." "The most amazing person in the world," I repeated, dumbly. "That's right, Colin. He is very wealthy, very clever and many classes above you. You are so lucky to get to know him." "So lucky...." "Yes, Colin. You are lucky to know Mr. Damien and you are so grateful to be part of this intimate gathering and you will be *eternally grateful* for any attention he gives you." "Grateful..." I mumbled. "Because he is an amazing, incredible person, someone you worship and idolise." "Worship and idolise...." "Yes, Colin. You worship and idolise Mr. Kirk Damien." "Worship and idolise... worship and idolise... Mr. Kirk..." *** "He's perfect, really," said Todd, looking at the scores on his computer. "The tests correlate almost exactly to our social media predictions." Amy consulted the sheets. "I agree. Heterosexual, but curious. Gender-fluidity is strong. " "High on following. Above average on purpose-need," Todd added. He looked over at Colin sitting at the kitchen table, in a resting-trance. "Clearly suggestible and trusting." "Low in self opinion. The forgotten middle child. Estranged from his brothers. Poor relationship with his mother. If he disappeared, no one would miss him." "What I like best of all are his latent traits. He's deeply submissive and loyal but he doesn't realize it yet. He just needs someone to unlock that part of his personality and then he'll be theirs for life." "Lucky Mr. Damien," Amy said. "Time to call him?" This was the moment of decision. Mr. Damien's requirements had been... unique. And hard to fill. This was the point where they had to decide, was Colin the one? Was this the right match for Mr. Damien? If this went forward, there would be enormous risks involved. Kirk Damien, of course, must never know of their methods. "I can't imagine our doing any better," said Todd, finally. They looked at each other and nodded. "I'll call him." *** Mr. Kirk Damien was a man of business and finance and deal-making. He was a good business man, unsentimental to the point of being harshly practical. He inspired loyalty from his staff and his equity consulting group was doing very well. But Mr. Damien was not invincible. He didn't always make all of the right moves. Some of his bets paid off, and some cost him (and his firm) dearly. Yes, he was rich, with assets running north of 50 million pounds (after the divorce) but not billionaire rich. In short, he was a very successful business man. But Kirk wanted more. His wife of five years had divorced him, and the divorce was messy and expensive, but most of all, a massive blow to his ego. He felt like a powerless fly caught in the machinery of the legal system, forced to fork over half his fortune to this woman to whom he had pledged his life and he thought she had pledged her life to him. But she chafed under his controlling and demanding ways. "I'm my own person, you don't own me," was her constant refrain. And there was that other thing too, when she discovered his other 'proclivities'. Thank God that had been kept secret, but it had cost him a pretty penny in the divorce. In addition, things were often frustratingly difficult in business. Deals took forever to complete, people changed their minds, reneged on promises, and so on. Everyone around him seemed so untrustworthy, so unworthy of his respect. Even his staff would rebel if he worked them too hard. All he wanted was a little loyalty, someone to love him unconditionally, was that too much to ask? It was all so fucking frustrating! Endless pandering. Endless concerns and politicking and feeling for boundaries and making careful, politically sensitive, respectful work-appropriate comments. Kirk sighed. He was an only child, unexceptional growing up, scoring B's and C's. In college he got a business degree and then his first finance job as an intern at the UK division of Goldman Sachs where he learned how mergers and acquisitions worked. Soon, he and a friend were out on their own, freelancing, leveraging their contacts to put companies together. As it turned out, Kirk had a talent for sniffing out what people wanted, even if they didn't realise it themselves. And now here he was, late 30's, multi-millionaire, recently divorced and with no life nor talent apart from his job. What then, did Kirk want? What he wanted, more than anything, was someone, just a single person, with whom he could be entirely free. That would suffice. Someone who worshipped him. Someone who thought that Mr. Kirk Damien was everything. Someone who was so entirely under his control that Mr. Kirk Damien could do absolutely anything he wanted without regard to this person's feelings, their wants or their needs at all. To be entirely selfish with this one person, wouldn't that be such a relief? Raw power, that's what Mr. Damien wanted. Raw and complete power - over just one person. If he had that, just that one thing, then he felt he could put up with all of the other shit he had to do all day long. All he needed was just that one person to control. And, of course, someone with whom he could exercise his kinks and perverted desires. And now, apparently, that person had been found. *** Chapter 2: Dinner with Kirk Damien I woke, startled, sitting on the sofa next to a strange man. But then I looked at him and realized with a start, that this wasn't just any strange man. This was Kirk Damien!!! Holy shit. I had read about this man... where? I struggled to remember. The Financial Times? But I never read that. The Daily Mail? Probably. The phrases "financial genius" and "the match maker of the M4 corridor" floated through my head. And here he was, sitting right next to me on the sofa! Bloody hell! The actual Kirk Damien! Right there! I felt goosebumps. "Well, look who's back in the land of the living," Amy teased. I looked over and saw Todd and Amy smiling at me. It was just the four of us. On the coffee table was that plate hors d'oeuvres, now with just one puff pastry left, next to several glasses of wine, mostly empty. "Don't worry, my dear," said Kirk Damien (holy shit, I thought to myself, is he really talking to ME??), "I perfectly understand. There have been many times after a red-eye flight and a long day at work that I have to attend yet another *boring* dinner party--" Kirk rolled his eyes. "Hey!" Todd said, with mock indignation. They all laughed. "Yes, yet another tedious, endless, boring dinner party," Kirk said, clearly joking. "It's perfectly understandable." "But... I... I..." I stammered, wanting to set the record straight, but unable to find the words. I was so star-struck just being next to Kirk Damien, THE Kirk Damien. Financial business tycoon of high-flying mergers and acquisitions. Personal friend to Richard Branson, Sundar Pichai, and Saudi Prince Mohammed bin Salman. It had been a life-long dream to meet this man! The stories he must have! The circles he frequents! I just stared, agog, my throat so constricted I could only emit soft strangled sounds. "What's the matter, Colin, are you okay?" Kirk asked, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. And that's when I felt it for the first time. Just as his hand touched me... The Tingles. My nipples tingled as if stroked by hidden fingers. My eyes dilated, my nose flared, I sucked in my breath. A soft moan escaped my lips. Kirk looked at me with concern. "Oh... uhm...." I tried to think of something, *anything* appropriate to say. "Th-thank you... Mr. Damien." "Call me Kirk," he said. KIRK? I CAN CALL HIM KIRK? Oh God, I swear I felt my heart skip a beat. I felt palpitations in my gut. Oh God, here I am, sitting next to KIRK DAMIEN and HE WANTS ME TO CALL HIM BY HIS FIRST NAME. Oh God... oh God... "Kirk..." I said, so softly I doubted anyone could hear it. "There, was that so hard?" he said, with the hint of a smile, his handsome eyes boring into me. His hand stroked my back one more time, that one stroke causing my toes to curl, before returning to his lap. "N-n-no," I stammered, looking down to avert his gaze. What the fuck? Those aren't my mine! I looked down at the neatly tailored, light tan trousers I was now wearing. Wasn't I wearing an old grey pair when I left the house? Vaguely I heard Todd asking Kirk about a recent government sponsored business development conference which Kirk had helped organise. I touched the trousers and marveled at fine weave of the microfibre fabric. Then I noticed the shirt. "What the..." I muttered, feeling woozy and out of sorts. The shirt was a delicate cream color, made of a light shiny fabric. There was a light ruffle around the cuffs with pearl buttons. A blouse? I was wearing a blouse! What the fuck?? "Amy?" I stood up, then staggered a bit and sat back down. "Hold on there," Kirk said, reaching out and putting a hand on my arm, as if to steady me. *Tingle.* Oh God, as he touched me, I felt it again. That tingle in my nipples. Like little tongues were gently licking them. "Amy??" I asked, plaintively, struggling with an overwhelming wash of emotions flowing through me. "Yes, Colin?" she asked. Just then, I froze, shocked to my core. I was wearing something... something... underneath my blouse. Something which gripped around my chest, something with straps over my shoulders... "Amy?" I said again, feeling my eyes water. "Yes, Colin, what is it?" Amy said, concern in her voice. "Where... where is the toilet?" "Here, I'll show you," she said, getting up. Turning to the men, she said, "Gentlemen, we need to powder our noses. We'll be right back." And as she led me out of the room, I overheard Kirk say: "Come Todd. Let's get another drink while the ladies do their womanly business together." *** "Amy," I asked, panicked, as soon as we were out of earshot of the men. "What am I wearing?" "Oh, Colin! Those are my clothes. Are you okay?" she asked, touching me on the arm, lightly. I noticed that her touch didn't give me The Tingles. Apparently, only Kirk's touch did that. "Don't you remember?" "Remember what? I was in the kitchen, then the next thing I know I'm in the living room... wearing these clothes? Is this a lady's blouse?" "Yes, it's mine. You fainted in the kitchen and spilled tomato soup all over your clothes! We were so worried about you! I'm afraid the stains may never come out. Todd offered some of his clothes for you, but they were much too big. He's so tall. But fortunately, I found some of my clothes, not too womanly, I hope! Anyway, they fit you perfectly." "These... I'm... I'm wearing your clothes?" I said, in a hush. "Yes, and you look amazing in them," she said. "Very pretty." "But... what must Mr. Damien think of me?" I wailed. "Some pansy man, wearing women's clothes? At a dinner party! I'm... I'm mortified!" "I think he found you quite charming," Amy rushed to reassure me. "After you entered, he asked me 'who is that lovely thing'?" "Lovely... thing?" I asked, my eyes wide with horror. Just thinking about Mr. Damien asking about me like that made me shrink with embarrassment. But then, imagining his eyes on me, suddenly I felt the faint echo of The Tingles in my nipples. "Aren't there any other clothes I can wear?" I whined. "Anything more... more manly? Any other shirt than this?" "I'm sorry," Amy said, smiling. "These are clothes which are one size too large for me. I've been meaning to return then, but it's a good thing I didn't! All of my other clothes are too small for you." I stood there, trying to decide what to do. I could just go home, but then I wouldn't be able to spend more time with Mr. Damien, my long-time idol, and I *really* wanted to do that. Opportunities to have dinner with such a well connected titan of business don't come along that often! Sometimes you just have to seize the moment and damn the torpedoes and all that. But why did I have to do it in women's clothing! Of all the rotten luck, to have fainted at exactly the wrong time! "Here, let's go and powder our noses," said Amy. leading me up to her bedroom and into the en-suite washroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I saw how changed I was. I didn't look like a woman, not exactly, but I didn't look like a man either. "Am I wearing... makeup?" I asked, with a hushed voice. "Yes, just a little," said Amy. "You were so pale after you fainted, that I thought adding a little blush to your cheek and a little touch of lipstick might be just the thing." "Makeup?" I asked, dumbly, trying to piece it all together. "Yes. You said it was okay. You thought it was a great idea, actually. Colin, are you sure you're okay? Maybe I should take you to the hospital? I know that some amnesia is common side-effect from a fainting spell, but you're starting to worry me." "No, no, I'll be fine," I said, feeling anything but. "Is that... am I wearing..." my eyes drifted down to a peak-a-boo of lace which showed at the low V of my blouse. "Am I wearing a brassiere?" I asked, suddenly feeling short of breath. "Yes," said Amy, standing behind me and looking at me in the mirror, her face appearing above my left shoulder. "The blouse was so low cut that it looked a bit ridiculous, so we decided that a bra would help fill the gap there," she indicated with her finger, gently stroking my chest, "so you would be better presented." "Better presented?" I asked in a hushed whisper. Better presented to Mr. Kirk Damien? But why would it matter that I was better presented to him? "Now, can I help fix your makeup?" Amy asked. "O-okay," I said, feeling trapped and shaky. Already Mr. Damien has seen me in these clothes, I reasoned, and he hadn't been put out. Maybe they weren't so bad? Maybe... I glanced at the mirror as Amy added some powder to my cheeks and then pulled out some blush. Maybe I looked alright? I decided to just grin and bear it. If Mr. Damien didn't mind me wearing Amy's clothes for the dinner party, who was I to argue? After all, opportunities like this only come up once in a lifetime! If he likes me, then who knows what it might lead to? Amy dabbed some lipstick on my lips and then blended it using her finger which was warm and soft. I closed my eyes and let her work on me, feeling like a child being primped and sorted by her mother. *** All evening, once I had gotten over the fact that I was wearing women's clothing (including Amy's shoes and socks, I realized later, flats, fortunately) I found myself basking in the wonderful glow of Mr. Damien's attention. He was so amazing! There wasn't a subject on the earth he couldn't talk knowledgeably about. And the stories he told of mergers and acquisitions, how often he would have to complete some tremendously tricky negotiation to close the deal... it was clear he was a creative, deal-making genius. If only I hadn't spilled that soup on my own clothes! Every now and then I would feel the straps on the bra or the soft silky nylon of the blouse and I would get embarrassed all over again. We were seated at the dinner table, when I took a sip of water from a porcelain cup and, to my horror, saw the tell-tale pink lip-print on the rim. "What's the matter?" asked Mr. Damien, his keen eyes boring into me, making me feel exposed and vulnerable. "Nothing!" I trilled, surreptitiously trying to wipe the print from the cup. "Are you sure?" asked Amy. "You're blushing!" "Really, it's nothing," I said, looking down into my lap, my face feeling flushed and hot. "You're so pretty when you blush," said Mr. Damien. "Kirk!" said Amy, with mild scolding. "Stop that! You'll just embarrass the poor thing even further." It was true. I closed my eyes, wishing I could just, by sheer force of will, disappear. "I'm sorry," Mr. Damien said, reaching over and gently grasping my forearm. We had been seated side-by-side. "Colin, can you ever forgive me?" At his touch, The Tingles, which I had almost forgotten, came back in full force, my nipples dancing with pleasure. Startled, I opened my eyes to look at Mr. Damien who was looking at me with a shocking intensity of focus. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish several times before I was able to speak. "Of course," I whispered, wishing with all my soul that he would let go of my arm, but at the same time hoping desperately that he would keep holding it. "It's nothing, I'm just..." I searched for a good excuse, "just amazed that I'm here, having dinner with you. You're... I mean..." "Yes?" he asked, giving my arm a gentle squeeze, which practically sent me into orbit. The Tingles assaulting my nipples were so strong I couldn't breath. "I'm just so amazed to be here," I gushed, blushing at my heartfelt admission. "You're just... so amazing." "Why thank you, Colin," Mr. Damien said, finally releasing my arm. "And may I say, I think you're amazing too. So charming and innocent and... I know this is an unusual thing to say these days, but the word I mean to say is 'beautiful'. I think your features are quite beautiful." "Such classic beauty," said Amy, agreeing. "Decidedly," said Todd. "It's not an adjective that I use much either, but in this case it is spot on." Beautiful? I'm... beautiful? I looked at them. No one had ever called me beautiful before. I thought back to what I saw in the mirror. With a little bit of makeup, Amy had brought out some of my more graceful features. But did that qualify as beauty? "Thanks," I mumbled, not quite sure how to take this new compliment. *** "Well, gentlemen, what do we think?" asked Amy, once Colin had left for home. Kirk nodded to Todd to go first. "Well, I feel it couldn't have gone better," said Todd. "He's... or should I say *she's* clearly smitten with you. She couldn't take her eyes of you the entire dinner. And did you see how she reacted when you grasped her arm? Clearly her subconscious is completely into you." "I agree," said Kirk, with a satisfied expression like a child in a candy store. "She's absolutely perfect. It was all I could do to restrain myself from pushing her over the table and raping her arse right then and there." "Oh, haha! Whoa there, Kirk. One step at a time." Todd and Amy looked at each other, shocked. This was the more unseemly part of their job, catering to wealthy men with perverted desires. "We want her to be fully on board," Amy continued. "It has to come from her, and that's going to take some time. Todd and I think that it will be a minimum of three months before she's ready." "Three months?" Kirk said, upset. "I can't wait that long!" "You'll have to," Todd said, standing up. His voice brooked no argument. "She needs to be primed so that when you, ah... 'go to the next level' with her, that she's ready and won't report you, or us, to the police." "Fine," said Kirk, although it was obvious he wasn't happy about it. "Anticipation," said Amy. "Best not to rush into anything. These early stages can be so sweet." And she needs to be so thoroughly trapped and isolated, that she'll have no choice but to submit, Amy thought to herself. "I suppose that's true," said Kirk. "As long as you promise not a day over three months." "We promise," said Todd. "Our data shows that she is the kind of girl who easily becomes dependent. All we need to do is make sure that she chooses you. It shouldn't take more than a few weeks. In the mean time, Amy and I will keep close tabs on her." Of course, Todd and Amy didn't tell Kirk that they had other reasons for their confidence. Their methods had to be secret, so that not even their clients knew what was happening, that Colin would be gradually hypnotized to become Kirk's perfect girlfriend. "When can I see her next?" Amy consulted their calendar. "How about three weeks from today for our next dinner party?" As Kirk trotted down the stairs to the pavement, he fantasized about holding the delicate Colin in the palm of his hand. He would own her, mold her to his liking, make her love him and worship him... and she would be grateful and devoted. "Congratulations," Amy said, walking out of the kitchen with two glasses of champagne. Kirk's acceptance of their candidate meant that an early critical milestone had been met and the second ?500K installment of their ?3m contract with Kirk would be deposited in their bank account. Now they could actually pay for this house that they had rented. It had been a long and stressful six months, with lots of false starts and complex analysis, but finally, it was starting to pay off. Already they had inquiries from other interested millionaires. Business was looking up. "Still a long way to go, of course," Todd said. The two clinked champagne glasses. "Yes, but we're on to something special. This is going to be a gold mine!" "But I'm worried about Colin. Some of those suggestions you gave him... I thought we had agreed to only give him suggestions he was subconsciously willing to explore? And those suggestions about his job... we're jeopardizing his career. His livelihood. What if he ultimately decides he's not interested in dating Kirk? What do we do then?" "It's just a test," Amy assured. "We need to evaluate my latest formula, to know what's possible." "I suppose. But still..." "I'll undo them next time, I promise." "Okay. I trust you. I suppose a few weeks won't matter. Anyway, cheers!" Todd said, raising his glass taking a sip. "Hey, this champagne tastes funny," he said, staring at it. "Are you sure it's all right?" "Seems fine to me," Amy said, "Drink up." *** I woke up the next morning, groggy and disoriented. What the hell happened last night? I remembered the dinner with Mr. Kirk Damien with crystal clarity. The stories about Richard Branson, his penetrating gaze, the touch of his hand on my arm, the way he said that I was 'pretty'... I rolled over, feeling a wash of pleasure at an amazing and unexpected evening. To think, spending an evening with Kirk Damien... I looked down. Bloody Hell! I slept in Amy's clothes all night! I got up and looked in the mirror. The morning light lanced through the window. I was wearing her socks with their wavy fringe, tan trousers, the nylon satin blouse. Worried, I felt my chest. I was still wearing the bra. Oh God, I slept in a bra last night. But that wasn't all. When I went to the toilet I realized something else. I was wearing women's knickers. Soft, nylon, sensuous. They must have been Amy's. Apparently, I had worn them during the dinner party, and then all night. The phone rang. "Colin?" I was my boss, Jason. "Where are you? Is everything okay?" I looked at the time. Shit! I was late! Apologizing profusely, I grabbed my laptop and raced out of the flat as fast as I could. It wasn't until I was halfway to work that I realized I was still wearing all of Amy's clothes. Fuck it all! I stopped in the bathroom at work and washed my face and rolled up the cuffs of the blouse so the pearl buttons wouldn't show. What else could I do? *** Chapter 3: The second dinner party A few weeks later I got a call from Amy. "How are you doing, Colin?" "Good, good." It was a big, fat lie. I felt terrible. I was twitchy and anxious and couldn't sleep. I was starting to make mistakes at work, which was very bad because my six month new-hire probation review was coming up. And it was all because of him. Why Kirk Damien? Why was I suddenly so obsessed with him? I mean, sure, Kirk Damien was pretty amazing. He knew everyone and had done everything. He'd hiked Kilimanjaro, he'd kayaked down the Amazon. He had dated a Spice Girl. Okay, it was clear that I had a crush on Kirk Damien. A big-time, obsessive man-crush. This was not unusual for me. I once had a man crush for Ringo Star. I spent months locked in my room trying to learn how to play the drums. And then there was that year I totally crushed on David Beckham and kicked a football endlessly against a fence, trying to make it curve. 'Why am I crushing on Kirk Damien?' I wondered. Late nights, I would try to sleep but images from the dinner party would roll over and over in my head. Then I'd start fantasizing about him. Maybe I could quit my job and go work for him? But that was stupid. Kirk could afford any IT person in the world. Why would he hire me? But that time he touched my arm.... and I felt The Tingles in my nipples... oh... His smile... "Todd and I are having another dinner party," Amy said. "Tomorrow night. Would you like to join us?" "Will Mr. Damien--" I stopped short, embarrassed. Amy laughed. "Yes, Kirk will be there," she said. "And he is *very* interested to get to know you better." My heart leapt into my throat. "I'll be there!" I said, too quickly. "Wonderful! But I better tell you, um..." she hesitated. "Kirk has a request." "A request?" "Yes, he said: 'Tell Colin, I'd love to see her in a skirt.' " "A... skirt?" Had I heard her correctly? "Yes, Colin, a skirt. He said, 'would Colin wear it, for me?' " I felt a little lump in my throat at the words 'for me'. Had Kirk Damien really said that? Was he really thinking about me that way? "Do you have a skirt to wear?" Amy asked. "A nice once?" "No." "Then I guess you'll need to buy one." "Do I really have to?" That was the *last* thing I wanted. I was embarrassed to have worn a woman's blouse last time. Now... a skirt? And could I afford it? "Well, Kirk did ask for it specifically. I think you'll get more attention from him if you wear it. Do you still have my blouse? And my other clothes from last time?" "Yes..." "Excellent, then you can wear the blouse. And the same knickers and brassiere, of course. Have you washed them all, like a good girl?" A lump formed in my stomach. "Yes." Shit, what was I going to do? I really, really didn't want to wear a skirt. But Amy said Kirk Damien specifically requested it. What should I do? And why would Kirk want me to wear a skirt? Was it because he saw me in a woman's blouse? Surely he didn't think I was a woman? Was he trying to encourage me somehow? But for what purpose? "Wonderful! Just add a skirt, and some new shoes, of course. No problem." "N-n-new shoes?" "Would you like me to come help you shop for a skirt and a new pair of shoes?" I tried to decide. What should I do? I could feel my willpower slipping. After all, if Mr. Damien wanted me in a skirt... well then... maybe he had a good reason? It couldn't hurt, could it? It's not like I'd be wearing it in public. It was just a dinner party with Todd and Amy... "Yes," I said, finally. "Thank you, Amy." "Excellent. How about tomorrow afternoon? We'll make it a girl's-only-trip. What do you say?" Shit. Taking off Friday afternoon meant I'd have to ask for time off, and my boss Jason wouldn't be happy. "Colin?" "Uh.... okay," I relented. "Sure. That would be nice." *** Amy took me to several shops she liked. I carried the blouse with me so we could make sure to find a matching skirt. "Do I have to try it on?" "Yes, of course you do!" Amy said, pointing me to the dressing room. "How else will we know?" And so I tried on each skirt and had to show Amy (and everyone else in the shop) how it looked with the blouse. "Do the skirts have to be so short?" I whinged. They were all well above the knee. "They're not that bad," Amy brushed my concerns away. Finally, she found a skirt she liked. It was dusty-pink, flared and pleated. "It's too feminine," I whimpered, looking around. "Hush, it's perfect. Kirk will love it. No go back and change." After changing, I joined Amy at the counter where she was checking out a small pile of clothes. "What are these?" I asked. "Extra pairs of knickers and bras," she said. "And stockings with suspenders." "Stockings?" I gasped. "Suspenders?" "Yes, of course. Did you think you would wear socks with your skirt?" Amy asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I... I..." I stammered, with no good answer. I watched, as the sales lady rang up the purchases and removed the hangers. She looked back and forth between us, amused. "Amy," I whispered, urgently trying to get her attention, but Amy just ignored me. "That will be ?248.48." Fuck, that was a lot of money. I looked over at Amy, but she just stepped aside and nodded in my direction. Oh blimey, she expected me to pay. Of course she would. Of course I should, these would be my clothes after all. Clothes that I would have to wear. I pulled out my credit card, feeling myself sink further into debt. Next, Amy dragged me down the block to a women's shoe shop. I sat in a chair, blushing beet red, while the sales lady measured my stocking feet. "These pumps are perfect," she said, holding up a pair. "Heels?" "Just an inch. No problem." They looked higher than that to me. "Or maybe these sandals?" Amy showed me a pair of sandals with an ankle strap. "The pumps," I said, definitely. "It's a good thing you have such dainty feet," the sales lady said. "Fitting you should be no problem." They cost ?80. *** Finally, we were all done. Amy drove me back to my flat. "A present for you," she said, handing me a Marks & Spencer bag. "If you're wearing stockings, you'll need to shave your legs," she said, showing me a lady's razor. "And you might as well do your underarms while you're at it." "But... but... I'll be wearing a blouse. No one will see my underarms. Will they?" "It will be better if you shave your underarms," she said. "I know Kirk would appreciate it." I felt a lurch in my stomach. Shave my underarms... for Mr. Damien? How would he know? Did he discuss my underarms with Amy? "Colin?" Amy asked. "Will you shave both your legs *and* your underarms? For me? For Kirk?" I felt funny butterflies in my stomach. "Yes, Amy." "That's my good girl. I'll see you at 7pm, okay? Don't be late!" *** I blinked. "Colin, are you okay?" Oh God, it was Kirk Damien! "We lost you there for a second," said Todd. "Working late hours recently?" "Uh... trouble sleeping," I mumbled. "Insomnia." I thought back. I remembered Todd opening the door. I had shaved my legs and underarms like Amy asked. I was carrying my new skirt and pumps in a bag so I could change before Mr. Damien arrived... But then, nothing. What had happened? I looked up and tried to smile. "Sorry I nodded off like that," I said, trying to shake off the toffee in my brain. I felt weak and unsteady. "No problem at all," said Mr. Damien, smoothly. "I was just telling Todd and Amy how amazing you look! Colin. Is that a new skirt and blouse?" I looked down at my knees and saw that I was wearing my new skirt. "Yes," I said. With a start, I noticed the blouse was different. It was white lace with... OH GOD, I HAVE BARE SHOULDERS. Oh fuck. Oh no... I felt a flush cover my face. "It's suits you perfectly," said Mr. Damien, reaching down to feel the fabric of my skirt. The light touch of his fingers on my thigh brought back The Tingles in my nipples. I sucked in my breath. I looked up at Mr. Damien. Our eyes locked. His intense gaze looked deep into my soul. "And the blouse," he added. I flinched as his hand approached me. "It's okay, Colin," he said, softly. I forced myself to sit still as he gently stroked my shoulder through the lace top. I blushed, embarrassed to be sitting in front of Mr. Damien wearing such a feminine garment. I didn't remember buying it. Did Amy give it to me? Mr. Damien traced a finger down the straps of my (newly purchased) flower- print satin bra. "You are so pretty, so feminine," Mr. Damien said, his hot breath on my cheek as he leaned in to give me a soft kiss on the cheek. The Tingles in my nipples went wild with pleasure. "Th-thank you, Mr. Damien," I mumbled, shivering, feeling his lip print on my cheek. "Call me Kirk," he said, shifting closer so our legs touched on the sofa. I felt him slip a hand around my waist. Something about being enclosed by his arm felt suddenly, overwhelmingly intimate. A man, with his arm around the waist of a girl. Only the girl was me, and the man was Mr. Kirk Damien! The very same man that I'd looked up to and admired for so long! And as he hugged me, pressing our bodies together, he drew me into the crook of his arm and I felt owned... possessed. And, oh God, I couldn't help but squirm as The Tingles on my nipples felt like little mouths sucking on them. We stayed like that, me with my hands in my lap and Mr. Damien's hand gently stroking my side, as Todd and Mr. Damien... Kirk... talked about something. I don't know what. Politics, I think. All I could think of was that MR. KIRK DAMIEN HAS HIS ARM AROUND ME!! I shivered. Finally dinner was ready. Kirk Damien stood up and held out his hand. I grasped it, noticing with shock that my nails were painted a glossy pink. When did that happen? I stumbled a bit trying to stand up in my two-inch heels. Wow, they sure seemed higher now than they did in the store. "Hold on there," Kirk said, quickly grasping me about the waist so I wouldn't fall. I looked into his eyes as he held me firm against his body. I felt weak and vulnerable. "Th-thank you," I said, grateful for his strong arms as I struggled to gain my footing. I felt his hard cock pressing against my abdomen. The Tingles were going full force now. Kirk led me by the hand, slowly and carefully, to the dining room. I stepped carefully, not used to walking in heels. As we walked, I glanced in the mirror and saw my image. My hair was brushed out and styled. My lips were deep red with lipstick. My eyes were lined and highlighted, making me look wide-eyed and innocent. The lace blouse and pink pleated skirt made me look young and exceptionally feminine. In the dining room, Mr. Damien - Kirk ? held out a chair and then pushed it in as I sat down, making me feel cared for and protected. *** Mr. Damien (?Call me Kirk,? he insisted) was solicitous during dinner. He refilled my wine and water, made sure to hold the dishes while I served myself, picked up my napkin when it fell onto the floor. I tried to enter into the conversation on politics with the other three, but I kept making stupid mistakes. For some reason I thought Boris Johnson was a Democratic Unionist. "You mean... the party from Northern Ireland?" Todd asked. I can tell he's trying to be supportive, but at the same time I realize how dumb I was. "I'm sorry, I guess I don't know what I'm talking about," I muttered, feeling like a dumb bunny. "Oh hush," said Mr. Damien (Kirk!). "I'm sure there are plenty of subjects you know that would make Todd and I look like idiots. Like IT Admin for example. What operating system do you use at your company?" "We use..." I started confidently, but then halted. What operating system did we use? For some reason, suddenly, I had this weird block. It was right on the tip of my tongue, but the more I struggled to remember it, the more frustrated I got. "We use--" I tried again, but the word just seemed to block itself. I looked up at Kirk, my eyes wet with tears. What in bloody hell was wrong with me? Why couldn't I remember the STUPID OPERATING SYSTEM I USED? "Is it... Windows?" suggested Kirk, gently. "Yes!" I said with a gush of relief. "It's Windows. Thank you! I don't know why I had such a block just now." "What version?" asked Todd, as he reached for the pepper. "Uh..." "I'm sure it's Windows 10," said Kirk. "What are they up to now, build 18- thousand and something?" "We just upgraded our servers to 18362," said Amy. I looked around the table, my mouth hanging open like an idiot. Here they were all talking about my job... the job I did every day when I went to work... and knowing more about it than I did. "I-I'm sorry," I said, staring down at my plate, my face hot with shame. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm feeling really stupid right now." "There, there," said Kirk, squeezing my hand gently. "I'm sure you're excellent at your job. This isn't a test or anything, I was just curious. Besides, you're so pretty there's no reason for you to know anything. And even less to be able to talk about it at the dinner table." "Thank you... Kirk." I was grateful that he had stuck up for me, but I felt so useless. I guess it was nice that I was pretty, as Mr. Damien said. Wasn't it? Chastened, I kept quiet during the rest of dinner, except to nod or agree with whatever anyone said. It's not like I didn't understand what was being said, I did (or I thought I did). I just didn't trust myself to have an original and appropriate comment to make. *** We were mostly done with the mains when I felt it: Kirk's hand on my leg. At first it just rested there, on my thigh, hidden under the tablecloth. But then, slowly... gradually... Kirk began to stroke and caress my leg, lightly, with the tips of his fingers. I closed my eyes and whimpered. "Are you okay?" asked Amy. "Yes!" I said a little too quickly. I thought I saw Todd hide a smirk. Because my skirt was above the knee, it rode up when I sat down. This meant Kirk could easily reach down and touch my bare leg. Which he did. His fingers slipped underneath the hem of my skirt and pulled it up, exposing my entire leg to his questing fingers. "Kirk!" I whispering, urgently, my eyes wide, staring at him to stop. "What, Colin?" he asked, his eyes dancing with delight, acting innocent. Just then, his fingers dipped between my thighs, stroking the sensitive skin there, playing with my stocking tops. I couldn't help myself. I let out a little gasp and jerked. I saw both Todd and Amy look away, smiling. And then I felt it. Oh God.... I would later name it "The Needy Itch". All through dinner, I had felt "The Tingles". This was a feeling of soft fingers and lips teasing and stroking my nipples, brushing them lightly back and forth. It was constantly distracting and when it got really bad (like when Kirk's fingers touched my bare skin, or when he stroked my arm) I would feel short of breath. But now I was feeling something new. Something insidious. As Kirk's fingers became intimate and adventurous, between my legs, it started. "The Needy Itch." It was like a ring of itchy need, centered right at the most sensitive spot... of my bottom. A desperate, itchy desire in my anus! I clenched and unclenched my buns, trying desperately to ease the growing need I felt... 'back there'. It was a desperate need... for something down there. What did I need? I couldn't tell. I just new, it needed attention. And it needed it bad. "Kirk...!" was all I could say, my eyes pleading with him to stop. But he just continued exploring with his fingers between my legs, stroking my inner thighs, and the rosebud of my bottom kept getting more and more desperate. Like it was being poked by bits of straw. And then his fingers dipped right into my crotch and stroked across my hard member, encased in silk knickers. "Eep!" I shot straight up, banging the table and thrusting my chair back. "Sorry!" I squealed, feeling desperate, like I was on a tightly wound, vibrating string that had just been plucked. "I need to go to the toilet!" I raced off, stumbling again in the dratted heels, momentarily distracted by the delicious tug of the suspenders holding up my stockings, before finally tottering off. Safe in the upstairs WC, I frantically looked through the medicine cabinet for something, anything, to relieve the itch. Finally! Some hand moisturizer! I quickly pulled down my panties, put a glob of the moisturizer on my finger and then rubbed it on my anus. Oh God, yes. That was it, I sighed. But still, I needed something more. Slowly I pressed the finger into my rectum. There we go.... I fingered my bottom for a bit, feeling the itch go away. That was what I needed. Oh thank God I had figured it out! Or else I would surely have gone insane. *** Apparently chastened, Mr. Damien kept his hands to himself for the rest of the meal. As before, I tried to contribute to the conversation, but I kept getting simple things wrong. Like the population of the UK (for some stupid reason, I thought it was just 16 million, it?s over 67 million). A couple of times I was adamant in my wrong understanding, until Kirk or Todd showed me the truth on Wikipedia. What was wrong with me? I felt so fuzzy headed, like a warm cotton in my brain which made it hard to think straight or recall facts accurately. At some point I just gave up and started making safe statements like "I agree", or "that's so clever!" If asked a question, I would have to demur and say something like "Oh, I don't know" or "I can't remember, exactly" or "What do you think?" I was starting to feel like... well... like a bimbo. A male bimbo. It would have been frustrating, except that it was just so amazing to be sitting next to Mr. Damien. I was entranced listening to his stories about mergers and acquisitions, or tax calculations affecting market disruption... It got so bad, that at times I would just stare at him, minutes on end, and then I would feel "The Tingle", and then squirm a bit and try and focus more on what was being said rather than just looking at his beautiful and manly face. *** "Come sit with me," Kirk said. Kirk and I were alone in the living room. Amy was fetching desert (Eton mess, in individual cups) and Todd was making coffee. Some light jazz was playing softly on the stereo. "There's no room," I pointed out as Kirk sat in a big, overstuffed chair in the corner. "Sure there is," Kirk said, patting his lap. "Oh Mr. Damien... Sorry! Kirk... I don't think that?s proper--" "Colin, sit," he said, in a commanding voice. I jerked. Something about that voice hooked me, like an electrical shock. Immediately, I stepped towards him, turned around and sat in his lap. What the fuck? Oh God, I felt his penis in my ass. Oh, God... he's hard. Oh God...! Immediately, The Needy Itch started up. Something about his lump pressed against my bum... Oh God... It made it a hundred times worse. I tried squirming and clenching my bottom slightly, trying not to be too obvious, trying to calm the itch which was on the edge of driving me insane. "Relax," said Kirk, putting putting one arm around my waist and using the other to stroke my arm. His touch made my skin crawl. But it also gave me The Tingles. Oh God, I was such a mass of tenseness! "You are so beautiful," he said, kissing the back of my neck. "Really?" I asked, in a small, squeaky voice. "Yes, really," he said. "And you are exactly my type." "Y-y-your type?" I asked, suddenly afraid. What the fuck was going on here? I should go. I should just stand up and... "Yes," he said. "Thin and athletic, with such a cute nose, and legs that go for miles..." He stroked a hand down my leg, causing The Needy Itch to nearly double in intensity. He reached a hand under my skirts "Mr. Damien... I..." I brushed his hand away and struggled to get up, but he was strong and no matter how I pushed and struggled, he held me firm, pressing my bottom into his crotch and his (now massively hard) penis. "Here we are!" said Amy, brightly handing Kirk a mug of her home-made Eton mess. Wait, don't I get one? I thought to myself, staring at Amy, incensed. "We can share," said Kirk, as if reading my thoughts. Using a spoon, he took the first bite for himself, and then held out the second spoonful for me. I looked over to Todd and Amy, who were eating their own deserts and sipping coffee and both suppressing small smiles at my predicament. What were they thinking? About how much like two lovers Kirk and I were? What was I going to do? At some point I thought that perhaps I better do as I was told and just get it all over with. So I leaned my head forward and took the spoon in my mouth, tasting the fresh strawberry and the sweet crunchiness of the broken meringue. "Mmmm..." I hummed with delight. "It's good, isn't it," Kirk said, his breath warm against my cheek, smelling of strawberries. He continued like that, serving us both with alternating spoonfuls until the entire desert was finished. At this point, I was feeling a bit more relaxed. The Needy Itch and The Tingles had settled down a bit, and I relaxed into Kirk's arms, feeling warm and protected. "I'll take that for you," said Amy, taking the mug from Kirk and heading to the kitchen, where I could hear Todd already busy doing the dishes. "W-w-what are you doing?" I asked, feeling Todd's fingers tracing their way up my inner thigh. The Needy Itch was back with a vengeance, I squirmed, feeling his cock pressing into me. "I can't wait..." Kirk said. "Wait for what?" I asked. But instead of answering, Kirk just placed a hand on my right breast (causing The Tingles to go wild!) and then reached under my skirt and boldly grasped at my crotch! Holding me tightly I could feel him humping my bottom! "MR. DAMIEN! STOP!" I screamed, struggling to get away. He reached for my head and tried to pull me into a kiss. I flailed about. Somehow my elbow connected with his head and I was able to scramble away. "Colin??" Amy asked, rushing into the room, eyes wide with shock. Sobbing, I ran out of the living room and out the front door and into the cool evening air. *** "What did you do?" Todd asked. "I'm sorry!" Kirk wailed, "I couldn't help myself. I... grabbed her private parts. I couldn't help myself!" "You know she's not ready for that!" Amy said, angrily. "We only reluctantly agreed that she could sit in your lap. But nothing more! We were very clear about that! She's not ready!" "I know, I know! I'm sorry." Todd and Amy looked at each other as if to say, how the hell are we going to fix this?' Just then, they heard the doorbell ring. *** "Colin?" Amy asked, opening the door. "I-I-I left my keys and wallet upstairs," I said, tears running down my cheeks. I felt so used. So... disgusted. Mr. Damien's perverted desires were finally revealed and it creeped me out so much that all I wanted was to get out of that house, forever. How could Amy and Todd have set me up like that? What were they thinking? The whole lot of them were disgusting and horrible. I resolved to go back home, redouble my efforts on my job (hopefully it wouldn?t be too late) and then, someday, when I was ready, find a nice, boring, proper English wife with whom I'd have children and take on couples? holidays to Brighton. But shit. My keys and my wallet. DAMN IT! I was angry and upset. I felt ashamed and such like a simpleminded fool! How could I have fallen for his act, for that's exactly what I saw it was now, just a stupid act by some fucked up pervert. But I had to get my keys and my wallet back. And my mobile. Shit. "I'm so sorry, Colin!" Amy said, opening the door fully. "I had no idea Kirk would behave like such a manky arsehole!" She looked behind her and motioned frantically. "Todd has Kirk in the kitchen. Come. I'll take you upstairs and you can change and get your things and we'll make sure that you never see Kirk ever again. I'm so sorry." "O-okay," I said. Maybe I misjudged Amy? I thought to myself. She seemed sincere. I entered the house. Even the house now gave me the creepy crawlies all over my skin. Unfortunately, I also felt The Needy Itch, a burning which I knew I'd have to take care of, and The Tingles, thinking about what Kirk had just done. I was a fucked up mess. I followed Amy, dashing upstairs until I was safe in the guest bedroom where my clothes were. "Now you change and I'll get you a nice cup of tea, and then I'll take you home. Okay?" "Ok-k-k-kay," I said, stammering. "Thank you, Amy." As soon as the door closed, I found some hand lotion on the dressing table and then quickly removed my panties and thrust a slippery finger in my bottom. Ahhh... that's what I needed. Oh... finally. I found that it got better the more I thrust my finger in and out, until finally "The Needy Itch" was all gone. "I'll have to buy some lotion or something," I thought to myself. "Now where are my briefs?" But I couldn't find my briefs or my shirt, so, after removing the skirt, I just put on my jeans and checked to make sure they contained my wallet and keys. "Here you go," said Amy, holding out a cup of tea. "Thank you," I said, taking a sip. It was some variety that I didn't recognize. Like an oolong, but more bitter than I was used to. *** Chapter 4: I apologize to Mr. Damien I woke up late the next morning in my own bed. "What the hell...?" I wondered, feeling a horrible headache. I tried to think back to the previous evening. I had attended a party with Amy and Todd. And then I remember we went back to the living room for desert. And then I had sat in Kirk's lap... And then nothing. I looked down. I was still dressed in the pink skirt and lace top, with panties and bra, stockings and suspenders. The high-heeled pumps had been kicked off and were by the bed. I hadn't even changed last night. What had happened after I sat in Mr. Damien's lap? And why would I do that? I racked my brains, trying to remember. Had someone brought me home? I remember sitting in his lap. I remember the feeling of his hard cock on my bottom... oh God... The Needy Itch returned with a vengeance. Just thinking about his hard cock on my bottom, Oh God... I stood up and went to the bathroom where I found some Vaseline. Dipping my finger in the jar I saw that my nails were still painted pink. I'd have to get rid of that before going to work. I lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties and rubbed the gel into my arsehole. Oh, that felt good. I slipped a finger up and in and massaged it from the inside until the itch went away. That was nice. The phone rang. "Colin! Where the fuck are you?" Jason yelled at me. Damn it! Shit! I was late for work again!! I looked at my nails and then looked at my face. I didn't even have nail polish remover in the house. I'd have to get some! "I am so sorry!" I said, on the verge of tears. "I don't know what happened. I forgot to set my alarm!" "Get your backside down here right away! There's a ransom-ware virus on the loose and we need all hands on deck!" "I'll be there as soon as I can!" "NOW!" *** It was the most horrible day of my young IT career. It had taken nearly an hour and half to get to work, after washing my face four times to get the makeup off, and then running into a Boots on the way to work and then frantically trying to wipe away the nail polish on my hands in a public restroom. And then when I did finally get to work, after enduring the glares of my boss, I went to work trying to clean up the computers. But then I made a mistake, inadvertently booting up several computers which had been turned off in a panic in standard mode rather than safe mode which meant the virus could finish installing and then execute. Which meant we lost another half-dozen computers that day. Including the laptop of the Vice President of Marketing. I could hear angry shouting down the hallway. "You should just go home," said Jason, my boss, in a weary and exhausted voice. "I'm so sorry..." I said, looking at him, feeling in the edge of tears. "Just leave." *** "I called to check up on you," Amy said. I broke down, bawling, telling her about my horrible day and how I would probably be sacked in the morning, and how it was so hard to find ordinary, non-cloud IT Admin jobs anymore and how it had taken over 6 months to find this one. "What am I going to do?" "I'm sure you'll think of something," she said. "Now we need to talk about last night." "What happened last night?" "You mean... you don't remember?" "No. I remember dinner, and then going to the living room for desert..." "Colin, you owe Mr. Damien an apology." "Why? What did I do?" I asked, horrified that I might have done something to jeopardize my connection with this amazing man, just when I needed it the most. "We think you may have had too much wine with dinner. You sat in his lap and then groped him and then tried to kiss him." "NO!!" I said, shocked. "I did? Oh Amy, I'm so sorry!" "Why did you do that, Colin? I didn't think you liked Mr. Damien, you know, in that way." "I don't!" "Are you sure? Why else would you try to kiss him?" "I don't know." Suddenly, doubts flooded my brain. Was I 'like that' ? Did I find Mr. Kirk Damien -- Kirk -- attractive? I thought back to how my nipples got The Tingles whenever he touched me. And then there was The Needy Itch... Oh God... it couldn't be. Is this what... women feel... when...? I shook my head. "Listen, Mr. Damien was quite put out. He's demanding a written apology. And then, only if your apology is sincere enough, he may agree to meet you so that you can apologize in person." "Oh, thank you, Amy! I'm so sorry! I'll start on that right away!" "Send it to me first, and then I can help you edit it. And then you'll need to write it out long-hand before we send it to Mr. Damien." "Okay, I will. Thank you, Amy." *** I stayed up all night writing my apology letter. There were many drafts before I was satisfied. Then I e-mailed it to Amy, who then sent it back with a number of suggestions and additions. Mostly she wanted me to be more apologetic, more submissive, and more begging for his forgiveness. This went back and forth until about 2:30 am when she was finally happy. Then she told me to write it out long-hand on nice paper and make sure it was perfect. Dear Mr. Damien: I want to express my deepest, most profound apology for my recent behavior towards you at the dinner party hosted by Amy and Todd. I realize that my advances on your person were unwanted and deeply uncomfortable for you. I apologize for my mistake in judgment and inability to control my emotions and impulses. I realize that I was touching you and attempting to kiss you inappropriately, and I know that that sort of behavior is completely unacceptable, unless you initiate it. In all of our future interactions, I solemnly promise to be forever on my best behavior, and I will never cross that boundary again of my own accord. And I know it is too much to ask, but I would be eternally grateful if you would allow me to see you again. I promise to follow your lead in all things, to let you direct me in all ways, and to never again take the initiative on my own. Mr. Damien, I am on my knees, begging for your forgiveness. I look up to you as a mentor and guiding influence on my life, and I am deeply distressed that I may have disappointed you, or worse, made you feel uncomfortable in my presence. Please, I know that I am less than nothing to you, but I hope you will allow me to express my apology and to humbly beg your forgiveness in person. If there is anything, anything at all, which I may do to repent for my wrongdoing, please... all you need to do is express your desires to me, or to Amy if that avenue is more comfortable for you. Forever your obedient servant, Colin Jacobsen *** I finished the hand-written letter at around 5am. It had taken about 20 tries to get it right, my mistakes getting worse and worse as the night dragged on. I felt like a student being punished by doing lines. I had written the words over and over and they were now written into my soul. Finally complete, I rode my bike to Amy and Todd's where I put the letter into their mail slot so they would have it first thing in the morning. Then I went home and, exhausted, fell asleep. *** "Sorry, mate. You've been sacked," said Jason, when I showed up for work the next day. He handed me a shoebox with my belongings (a coffee mug, some pens and a Star Wars Rogue 1 magnet). "No reference, I'm afraid. Come with me, there's some paperwork you'll need to sign." Since this was within the probationary period, I was sacked immediately with no notice period and with no additional compensation. Ashamed, I took my release papers to the local Job Center and applied for Job Seeker's allowance, which amounted to a paltry ?57.90 a week. That wouldn't even pay for half of my apartment, to say nothing of food, petrol, and phone. How would I live? It took me over six months to find that job, and there was NO WAY I'd go home to hear the jeers of my arsehole brothers (those wankers) telling me how worthless I was. I was fucked. What have I done?? *** "Well, as much as I despise Kirk for pulling that stunt, it did accelerate things," Amy remarked. "Indeed it did. Switching it around so Colin blamed himself for what Kirk did to him, that was brilliant," Todd said, running his fingers down a row of numbers on his tablet. "Thanks." "So, are we ready to release poor Colin to our client?" "I think so," Todd said. "Have we programmed the backdoor?" "It's 'pineapple ladybug'." "Good. Let's hope we never have to use it." *** Chapter 5: My chance at repentance "Colin, I've heard from Mr. Damien," said Amy over the phone. An involuntary sob escaped my lips. "Yes?" I asked, my heart pounding. It was now a full two weeks since my apology letter and since I'd been sacked. Every day without word from Mr. Damien, my anxiety had risen another step. Not only because I wanted to be back in his good graces, but also because I was getting desperate for cash. My rent was now a week overdue, as was my credit card, which was dangerously close to the limit. I had sent out hundreds of inquiries for jobs, but no one would hire me without a reference. The one interview I was lucky enough to land had gone so poorly that I walked out half-way in embarrassment. All along Amy had counseled me to be patient, but as the situation got more and more desperate I was finding it harder and harder to maintain my sanity. I regularly took walks around Ascot, trying just to work off my nervous energy. It rarely worked. I read and re-read my apology letter to Mr. Damien until I could hear the words in my head as I slept, hoping and praying it was good enough. "He has decided to forgive you--" "Oh thank God!" "--*IF* you fulfill some conditions." "Of course! Anything!" "Alright. Well, first, after thinking it through, Kirk feels that one of the reasons he was uncomfortable was because you did not look feminine enough." "Oh." I felt my heart sink. "Th-that makes sense, I guess." "I agree. And so, before he'll meet to accept your apology in person, he's requested some changes." "What.... what sort of changes?" "He wants you to wear a wig, he specified one with long, dirty-blonde hair, and breast forms, size double-D. And he wants you to get a professional make-over at a styling salon so you'll look your best." I felt my hopes draining away. "Amy?" I asked timidly. "I... I don't have the money for all that. I was sacked... and... and.... I only have about 30 pounds in my bank account and my credit card is almost maxed out." "Oh," Amy paused. "I suppose I could lend you the money," she said. "After all, I feel partly responsible for what happened." "You would do that?" "Of course. I tell you what. I'll just buy everything and have it sent to you, and then I'll keep a running total and you can pay me back with interest when you can." "Oh, Amy!" I gushed. "Thank you!" "No problem. And Colin, I think it would be best if you also did some more thorough hair removal. Of course, shave your legs and your armpits like before, but also get some depilatory cream for your body hair. And then you can go to a laser-removal hair clinic I know for your face." "Okay..." "Colin! This is important!" Amy scolded me. "Promise me you'll be completely hairless except for your eyebrows and the hair on your head!" "I promise! I promise!" "That's better. Now there's one additional stipulation that Mr. Damien made, but I?ll tell you that one later. Let's see... Today's Tuesday. You'll do the laser hair removal on your face tomorrow. All of the packages should arrive by Thursday, so let's plan on doing dinner with Mr. Damien on Friday. How does that sound? I'll schedule your makeover for 3pm. When it's over, probably around 5, you can walk to my house and we'll finish your preparation for Mr. Damien. Okay?" "But what should I wear?" "Oh right. Mr. Damien wants you to wear the exact same outfit your wore last time. The pink skirt, lace top, stockings and high heel shoes." I sighed, relieved. That I could do. "Thank you, Amy.? "You're welcome, Colin." *** Deciding to turn over a new leaf, I cleaned up my apartment, got a shower and shaved. Using the women's razor and gel from before, I shaved my legs and underarms, then shaved my face closely. I was going to ask Mr. Damien for a job. I had no other choice. He was my last hope. Therefore, nothing could be left to chance. I would do absolutely everything, every last thing, that he wanted, to the letter. I inspected the clothes carefully and decided to take them to the cleaners. If I skipped a few meals, I would have just enough money left on my credit card for that. The next day, I went to the laser hair removal clinic, which turned out to take a lot less time than I had expected. I gritted my teeth through the pain ("It's for Mr. Damien," I kept telling myself) and ignored the disgusting smell of burnt hair. I thought it best to wait until Friday to use the depilatory cream so that I would be as smooth as possible for Mr. Damien. But wait... I thought for a second. Why would I need to be smooth when my body will be covered by clothes? But Amy must have had a reason. Perhaps she just wanted to inform Mr. Damien that I had 'gone the extra mile.' That must be it, I decided. Thursday the packages arrived. I picked up my outfit from the cleaners and tried everything on just to make sure it was all OK. Holy God, the breast forms were so big! They pushed out the lace top so much it was obscene. Fortunately the blouse was high necked so you couldn't see the fake cleavage. I spent some time walking around the house so I could walk better in heels (Amy's suggestion) and get used to the massive weight on my chest. Finally, Friday arrived. *** Chapter 6: I Beg for Forgiveness I sat on an upholstered sofa in the hotel lobby, nervous, waiting for Mr. Damien. Amy sat next to me, reading her phone. I looked around, furtively. I was in public! Dressed as a woman! I felt like there was a huge spotlight on me. I saw other patrons look in my direction. I was frightened, nervous and on-display. I prayed to God that no one would recognize me or come up to say hello. Fortunately, the salon where I got my makeover did an amazing job. From top to bottom I looked like a woman. I was wearing the same outfit as last time: A flirty, dusty-rose pink skirt with matching high-heeled pumps, stockings, suspenders, soft and silky nylon knickers (light pink) with lace trim, and a smooth underwire bra (cream with delicate, printed flowers) under a lace top with bare shoulders. The biggest difference were my new DD-sized breast forms. They gave me an enormous chest, stretched out the top and pulled heavily on my bra straps. To reduce the strain on my back, I had to sit up straight which naturally pushed out my breasts as if I were proud to show them off all of the staring male eyes in the hotel lobby. And stare they did. My breasts became like a magnet for male eyes. I noticed it as soon as I stepped out of the car and noticed the valet leering blatantly at my chest. My other new feature was the wig. It was long and blonde with soft waves cascading down my face. The wig had no bangs, just a part in the middle, and so of course the hair was constantly falling in my face meaning I constantly had to tuck it back. How do women stand it? It was real human hair, too, styled and trimmed at the salon. It looked absolutely gorgeous and felt just like real hair. It was crazy expensive. I wondered how I'd ever be able to pay Amy back... with interest she said. The thought put a lump in my throat. I was already over 8,000 pounds deep in credit card debt. Not to mention my car loan and back rent. "Check your makeup," Amy said without looking up from her phone. "You should check it frequently to make sure it's always perfect." Obedient, I popped open my purse (small Gucci purse, pink leather with a gold clasp and a long shoulder strap) and carefully inspected my face in the mirror of my compact. I pulled out a tube of lipstick and nervously touched up my lips to make sure they were as saturated pink as possible. I smiled with my teeth and carefully used a tissue to remove a spot of lipstick. I looked at my nails. The salon glued on nail extensions and so now they were long and beautiful and pink to go along with my pink dress and pink lipstick. Although you couldn't see it, my toenails were also pink, slipped into stockings and inside my pink pumps. The long nails were a bummer, because it meant I could no longer use a slippery finger up my bum to satisfy my "Needy Itch". What would I do instead? Use a pen? Or... or a vibrator? I returned the compact and lipstick to my purse and snapped it closed. All of this arrived yesterday, purchased by Amy for my "date" with Mr. Damien. All of it was added to my debt. The makeup was amazing. The salon made me look like a softer, more feminine version of Felicity Jones, I thought. I squirmed in my seat trying to get comfortable. This was more difficult than it should have been because of something else I was wearing. Something hard, and bulky and plastic in my knickers... *** "Kirk will only see you if you are wearing this chastity cage," Amy said, showing me a hot-pink, moulded, penis-shaped tube with a pink plastic ring attached to the base. I had just come from the Salon and I was standing in her kitchen being "inspected". The chastity cage was Mr. Damien's last requirement for me to attain his forgiveness. "It's so small," I said, shocked, looking at it in her fingers. "It's supposed to be small," she said. "It prevents you from getting erections, and it makes sure that you don't feel any pleasure by rubbing yourself." I stood there in my heels on the linoleum floor, feeling the gentle tendrils of my new long hair from the wig brushing over my shoulders, trying to think of a way to get out of this new requirement. "Amy..." I started. "If you don't put it on, Colin, Kirk won't see you. I promised him that I wouldn't take you to meet him unless you were caged." "But why??" I asked as my eyes became moist. I desperately tried to hold it in, staring up at the ceiling, so it wouldn't drip down my face and ruin my makeup. I felt trapped and manipulated and forced. "Oh sweetie, I know this is hard," Amy said, reaching out and stroking my arm. She handed me a paper napkin from the kitchen table. I used it to carefully blot the tears from my eyes. "But Kirk said that he felt he'd feel more comfortable in your presence knowing that you were under 'lock and key'," she continued. "Considering how you behaved, I'm sure you can understand." "I... I guess," I said, hanging my head, upset with myself for the umpteenth time. What made me try to grope him and kiss him at the party? It was so unlike me. I flushed with shame. But still I hesitated. "Colin?" Amy asked. "I don't know..." I said. "You don't have to," she shrugged. "But if you don't, I'll need you to write a check for everything I purchased." "H-How much?" I asked, stumbling. "Not much. About 1500 pounds." "A thousand five hundred..." I gasped, feeling a knot in my stomach. On top of everything else! I didn't have that sort of money to pay her, not even if I maxed out my credit card and sold my car and home computer. I felt like I was sinking. How had I gotten into this? Every step had just seemed to get me deeper and deeper into trouble. Oh if only I had just behaved myself with Mr. Damien the last time we were together! It was all my fault! "Okay," I said, my voice quavering. There was no other option. "That's my girl," she said. "Now pull down your knickers and pull up your skirts." Amy pulled on a pair of medical-grade latex rubber gloves with a snap as I exposed myself. "Oh Colin! I see that you followed my instructions and removed all of your hair down there. That?s a very good girl." It was true. I had used the depilatory cream to remove all of the hair from my crotch. "You look so pretty all hairless down there. But, oh dear, your little winkle..." I felt her rubber-gloved fingers on my member. "You're stiff," she said. "No!" I couldn't believe it. "It's true. Do you like being put in this position?" She gently grasped my balls. "Being caged? Being prepped for a date with a handsome man?" "No! Not at all!" "Hmmm... I'm not so sure," she said. "Maybe you and Kirk really are meant for each other." "What?s that supposed to mean?" "Fortunately," she said, ignoring my question, "I thought this might be a problem, so I prepared ahead of time." Amy fetched a plastic bag from the icebox and pressed it into my crotch, rolling the hard, cold edges of the ice cubes into my rapidly wilting member. "There," she said. "All nice and soft." She slipped the pink ring of the chastity device over my penis and balls. She then lubricated my soft and floppy shaft with some hand lotion before slipping it into the hard pink tube, slotting it into the pink ring. A small metal bar with a key sticking out the end was inserted into the joint between the two pieces. Amy turned the key and removed it, locking both of the pieces securely together. The ring pressed my balls forward, against the tube. Now I would not be able to remove the cage without ripping my balls off. Worse, if I got an erection, the tube would pull painfully against my balls, causing me no small amount of pain (I would later discover). "There, all packaged up, nice and secure," Amy said, patting my crotch which now felt strangely bulbous and awkward between my legs. "If it's uncomfortable, I recommend massaging the skin with moisturizer." "Thank you, Amy." Why was I thanking her?? "How about a nice cup of tea?" *** "Amy?" I asked. "Yes, Colin?" Amy turned off her cell phone and looked at me. "When Mr. Damien touches me, I... I feel things." "What sorts of things?" "Well... when he touches me on my arm, I feel my nipples tingle. Like they're being tweaked and pinched." "Oh, that. That's perfectly normal," Amy said, brushing away my concerns. "All women feel that when they meet the right man. It just means that you want him to play with and grope your breasts." "What... really?" "Yes, my dear. Really." "I've never heard that before." "We don't like to talk about it. And doesn't happen to all women. Just some of us. I feel that way whenever Todd touches me." "You do?" "Yes, I do. What else do you feel?" "Um..." I hesitated, not wanting to go further. "Tell me." "When he touches me down there... you know, between my legs? On my thighs... Well, I feel an... how do I say this," I blushed, "I feel a kind of itchiness... um... you know... in my bum." "Is it bad?" "Oh God, it is so bad! Sometimes I have to even use a little lotion or something to make it go away." "Well, you know what an itchy arsehole means when he touches you?" I felt shiver go through me. "No... what?" Amy put her lips right by my ear and whispered. "It means you want him to fuck you. Back there." "Noooo..." I moaned. Just thinking about it made The Needy Itch come back. I squirmed in my seat. "Yes, you are very lucky. Only a very few women get itchy down there for their man." "But, I don't... I mean, I don't think of Mr. Damien..." "That way? Are you sure? Maybe your body is trying to tell you something?" "But that can't be--!" "Have you felt the hunger?" she asked. "The hunger?" "On your lips." "No, what's that?" "You'll see." But even though I begged, she refused to tell me more. *** "I almost didn't recognize you.? "Eep!" I squealed, surprised. "Mr. Damien!" I shot up and stood before him, nodding my head. "I'm so glad to see you. Thank you for coming!" "You're welcome," Mr. Damien smirked. "Amy? You have something for me?" "Here it is," Amy pulled the key to my chastity cage from her purse and handed it to him. "Excellent," Mr. Damien said, fingering the key before placing it in his pocket. "Now, don't you have something to say to me, Colin?" Mr. Damien said, looking at me with hard eyes. "Oh! Yes. Mr. Damien, I want to express my deepest--" "I'm sorry," he interrupted me. "But didn't you say you would beg for my forgiveness, on your knees?" "Here?" I squeaked, looking around the hotel lobby. "If you're not ready," Mr. Damien turned to leave. "No! Please!" I immediately dropped to my knees, right there in the hotel lobby with people looking on. "Mr. Damien, *please*. I'm so sorry for what I did!" I saw him pause, before finally turning to face me again. "Go on." I recited the apology which Amy had written out for me and which I had carefully memorized over the last few days, by reading it over and over again until it was firmly burned into my brain. "Mr. Damien, I want to express my deepest, most profound apology for my recent behavior. I realize that my advances on your person must have been unwanted and deeply uncomfortable for you. "You are an amazing man," I continued, "and I let my own desires get away from me. I realize that it is not my place to determine the nature of our relationship. That honor is yours and yours alone. I will forever look to you for guidance and will follow your wishes to the best of my abilities, at all times, without question. "Although I realize that I'm unworthy, I humbly beg for your forgiveness. I will forever be your obedient servant." I stayed there, head bent down, eyes closed, feeling the eyes of the entire hotel lobby on me as Mr. Damien looked at me for the longest time. "Thank you, Amy," Mr. Damien said at last. "You may go." "Very good, sir. Now Colin, you be a good girl and do everything Mr. Damien tells you to do. Understand?" "Yes, Ma'am," I said, still on my knees, as Amy leaned down to give me a gentle kiss. I could hear the click-click of her heals on the marble floors as she walked away, leaving me alone with Mr. Damien. I felt Mr. Damien's hand on my face, tilting it up. I opened my eyes to look into his smiling face. "So beautiful," he said, running a thumb over my lips. And that's when I felt it. The Hungry Lips. Oh God. Now I knew what Amy was talking about. My lips and tongue, a kind of desperate hunger seemed to overwhelm them. I could even feel it in the pit of my stomach. But a hunger for what? I looked straight ahead and saw a bulge in Mr. Damien's crotch. No... I thought, horrified to myself. NO! This can not be happening to me. No, no, no! I can't possibly want that! But as Mr. Damien stroked my face, and neck, I realized that YES, that was EXACTLY what I wanted. Oh GOD. No... Oh GOD. And it was getting worse... My lips were not just hungry. They were hungry for Cock. Cock Hungry Lips. "I want to give you a new name." Mr. Damien asked. ?May I?? "A... a new name?" "Yes. I can't call you Colin anymore, not the way you look now. Do you mind?" "Uh... no, I guess not." What else could I say? I was so desperate that I would have agreed to anything. "Excellent," he purred. "Good girl. I think I'll call you... 'Kitten'. That's your name from now on." "Kitten?" I asked, shocked that he had chosen such a bimbo name. "Yes, Kitten, that's right. Your name is Kitten. Isn't that a cute name for a cute girl like you?" "Mr. Damien..." "I asked, isn't that a cute name for a girl like you?" Hearing the hard edge in his voice caused me to shrink back. "Yes," I said, meekly. "That's a cute name..." "For a girl like you," he emphasized. "For a... a... a-a-.... g-g-girl like... like... like me," I said, feeling my eyes start to water. "And so, what's your name now?" Mr. Damien asked. "Kitten," I said. "Tell me." "My name... my name..." I took a deep breath. "My name is... K-k- k...Kitten," I got out, finally. Kitten. Kitten... "That's excellent, Kitten," Mr. Damien said with a self-satisfied smirk. "And it's especially good because I got you this choker necklace with your name on it." Mr. Damien showed it to me. It was a frilly pink and white lace collar, the kind a sissy would wear, with "KITTEN" in shiny sparkly white rhinestones emblazoned across the front. Mr. Damien stepped behind me and slipped the collar around my neck, buckling it so that it fit snug and close. "Excellent," he said. "You look absolutely adorable with that on. Adorable... and obedient." The words shot through me like an arrow. "You know, Kitten, with this collar, I *claim you* as mine. You belong to me now." I looked up at him, gasping, trying to wrap my brain around this new development. He claims me? I... *belong* to him? What does that mean? Suddenly, the collar around my neck took on new significance. I was collared... collared by Mr. Damien... "Let's go get dinner," he said. *** Mr. Damien led me across the lobby to the hotel restaurant which was known in the area as a traditional, romantic restaurant and a place where men would propose to their girlfriends. We were shown to a table with a soft banquette where we sat side-by-side. This is... a date, I realized, with a start. I looked at Mr. Damien, shocked. He responded by placing his hand possessively around my waist, gently holding me to his body. Oh God, The Tingles were back, this time in full force. I felt them even under the bra and the breast forms. I tried to roll my shoulders to make it bearable, but it didn't seem to help. A server walked up with our drinks and I blushed with embarrassment as he stared at the collar around my neck. The collar was so blatantly feminine. I felt like a sissy or a bimbo... or both. My face flushed hot red. I wanted to hide in the bathroom for the rest of the evening. Appetizers were finger foods, small sandwiches and savory puff pastries. "No," he admonished, slapping my hand away as I reached for one. "I'll do that for you." *For* me?? I looked at him with questioning eyes. Mr. Damien plucked up a small pastry and held it up for me. I leaned forward and opened my mouth and he fed it to me, thrusting his fingers into my mouth as he did, and then back and forth. For some reason, I couldn't help but put my lips around his fingers as this happened, as if I were giving oral sex to his fingers. "That is so hot," he breathed. "Do you like that, Kitten?" I didn't answer, but just looked at him, my eyes heavy lidded. My Cock Hungry Lips were desperate for attention. I stared down into his crotch, seeing his hard member outlined in his trousers. He grinned at me and squeezed it, showing me exactly how large and hard he was. Oh please, My Almighty God, I prayed. What's happening to me? Please save me! I looked over at Mr. Damien, my eyes watery, begging for release. Please don't do this to me, I was trying to say. But I couldn't say it out loud. "Careful," he whispered. "You don't want to ruin your mascara." I pulled a tissue from my purse and carefully dabbed the tear away. "Thats my good Kitten." Mr. Damien continued to feed me with his fingers throughout the meal, which was a long, multi-course prix-fix menu with wine pairings. He would cut the food into pieces and then hold up a morsel which I would be required accept with my lips. Then I was required to lick and suck his fingers until they were clean. My Cock Hungry Lips were becoming so desperate that I could barely concentrate on anything else but that bulge in his crotch. I looked at Mr. Damien, this amazing man that I respected so much, my mind fuzzy and confused with conflicting emotions and feelings. I didn't want to be here. I was embarrassed to be out in public, dressed in all of this ultra-feminine clothing, made up, with enormous breasts and long hair, wearing a pink, lacy collar with "KITTEN" on it in sparkly gems. And I was being fed from my date's fingers. But my lips... my cock hungry lips. All they wanted was to take off his trousers and to wrap themselves around his hard cock, so much so that I was practically panting for him. Oh God. Please help me! Thank god I could at least drink for myself. The wines were delicious... All through dinner, Mr. Damien talked about everything. Movies, people he knew, politics, this massive merger he was working on, customers he was courting. And I listened to his voice, enraptured, chiming in on occasion but often getting things wrong and having to be constantly corrected. "You're such a dumb Kitten," he said more than once, but so affectionately that I just smiled. "But that's okay, you're pretty and so you don't need to be clever, do you?" "I'm pretty, so I don't need to be clever," I repeated, as if in a trance. The words seem to enter into me and become a universal truth. I'm pretty, so I don't need to be clever, I don't need to be clever. I'm pretty so I don't need to be clever. "That's right, my sweet, loyal Kitten, you are loyal, aren't you?" "Oh, yes sir!" I said, with feeling. "Tell me how loyal you are." "Oh, Mr. Damien, sir. I would do anything for you! Anything you want, just tell me, and I will do it. I would gladly give my life for yours. You are so amazing, I'm just so lucky to be sitting next to you and happy to follow you to the ends of the earth and obey your every whim..." I trailed off. What the fuck? The words seemed to tumble out of my mouth as if uncorking a bottle. Where did that come from? Were these thoughts and feelings inside me all the time? I would do anything for Mr. Damien. "And why are you so loyal, Kitten?" I looked at Mr. Damien, not comprehending. Why? What did he mean, why? Why is anyone loyal to anyone else? "Why? Sir...?" "Is it because..." he looked at me, his eyes hungry, "... of love?" And as he said the word, I felt an overwhelming surge of love for this beautiful, amazing, gracious man who was so humble to gift me with his presence. Oh God, it was true! It had to be true! I was in love with Mr. Damien! That had to be the reason. It all made sense. I love Mr. Damien. "Yes! Oh, yes!" I said, tears springing to my eyes as his beautiful handsome face became my entire world. As if my entire being was taken up by my overwhelming love for this man. "I am so loyal because of my love for you. My overwhelming, everlasting love. Oh, Mr. Damien, Sir... Thank you so much for forgiving me..." *** I sat in a warm and fuzzy daze as desert was served. Mr. Damien continued to feed me with his fingers, my Cock Hungry Lips becoming ever more desperate. Now and then Mr. Damien would whisper into my ears: "Tell me how you love me." or "Tell me how you're loyal to me." And I would gush about how his Kitten was the most loyal, the most loving person there could ever be, and how there could never be anyone else for me in my life for me to devote to for me entire life, as Mr. Damien. The words which came out of my mouth horrified me. But there didn't seem to be anything I could do to stop them. Over drinks, Mr. Damien's fingers ran up between my legs, setting off The Needy Itch, something that I knew would not abate until I would be able to massage it on the inside with some lubricant. I looked at my fingers, seeing my long fingernails and knowing I could no longer use satisfy The Need Itch on my own. I would need to use something else. Something long... and soft... but also hard... I squirmed and look at Mr. Damien, feeling desperate for relief, now feeling The Tingles in my nipples, The Needy Itch around my arsehole, and, worst of all, my Cock Hungry Lips. I couldn't think... I felt wretched and anxious and desperate... squirming in the chair, desperate to get someplace private so that I could get my needs taking care of... My God, dinner was taking forever!! I needed relief! Mr. Damien pulled out the key to my chastity cage and put it on the table. "You're locked up tight and I own the key," he said. I looked around. The key was in plain sight of anyone who might walk by. "You know what that means, don't you?" I saw his finger possessively stroking the key, as if the key itself were an erotic talisman, which I suppose it was. "I..." I stammered, "I don't know," I said, not understanding or not wanting to understand. I felt something inside me tug. "It means I own you," he said, his voice low, drawing me in. "I own the key to your freedom, therefore, I control your freedom. How does it feel to be locked and owned?" I gulped. My mind was a soupy fog of emotions, hormones, feelings, The Needy Itch, The Tingles, The Cock Hungry Lips, feelings of love and admiration, feelings of loyalty, fear of living without a job, fear of being evicted, fear of having my car repossessed, embarrassment from being called "Kitten", embarrassment from being dressed in a skirt and lacy blouse in public with makeup, a wig, actual breasts (though false), high heels, lipstick (seeing lip prints on the cups and glasses whenever I took a drink), long nails... And now this feeling of being owned. I could feel the cage in my silky nylon knickers, a hard plastic bulge in my crotch which was feeling strained and tugging at my balls as my penis tried to get hard but couldn't. "How does it feel?" Mr. Damien asked again. "Trapped," I mumbled. "I feel... trapped." "Excellent," he purred. *** I sat in the limo, frightened, as we were driven to Mr. Damien's home, feeling lost and helpless. I felt like I couldn't stop it. Events had spun out of control. After paying for dinner, Mr. Damien had simply walked away. What should I do? I wondered, frantic. I got up, tottering briefly on my high heels, and followed him, trying my best to ignore the stares of the guests at me (a woman!) with my pink skirts, stockings and unsteady pink 4-inch high heels, white lace top and bare arms with my heavy Double-D breasts with a ridiculous lace choker collar around my neck that said "KITTEN" on it in sparkly jewels. I must have looked like a slut to them... I realized, feeling something inside me die. In the hotel lobby, I saw Mr. Damien heading for the hotel exit. Should I follow him? Should I call for the police? And tell them what? That I had willingly dressed as a bimbo slut and then had dinner paid for by a wealthy man? Should I call Amy and Todd? Should I call my mother? No. I could *never* call my mother. Or any of my family. Oh God, please save me! My Cock Hungry Lips... I thought about Mr. Damien's cock, and how I wanted it... needed it!! The Needy Itch... The Tingles in my nipples. But it was more than that. I didn't want to be left without him. I didn't want to face the world alone. He was my protection, my comfort, my care, my protector, my last hope... the person who had my loyalty, complete and forever ... Where did that come from? I don't really love him, do I? I'm not really loyal to him... am I? But you need him, said a voice in my head. You need what he has. He can take care of you. So, like a toddler lost in the store, I ran after him, my heels click- clicking on the stone floors, desperate to catch up and stand by his side, desperate to feel his hands on my body... unable, and unthinkable, to do anything but to be with him, to stand next to him, no matter the cost... even if it cost me my freedom. I found him waiting outside the front door, as if he didn't care at all as to whether I was there or not. I stood as close as I dared, pressing my body into his, grateful for his comforting presence. "It's clear to me that you have needs and concerns that need to be addressed," said Mr. Damien, in the limo, as the dark, opaque divider between us and the driver softly closed, giving us some privacy. "Needs and concerns? Sir?" I asked, fingering my humiliating sissy collar. "Yes, Kitten, needs and concerns. You must be concerned about how to pay your rent. It's already overdue. And your debts, I believe they're approaching some 48 thousand pounds? Including your car loan?" "How do you know about--" "And you have other needs, and desires, don't you, Kitten?" Mr. Damien said, cutting me off. "Deep, unsettled needs... deep, unfulfilled desires, don't you?" The way he said these words made me uncomfortable. What was I doing in this car? I wondered. Why didn't I leave when I had the chance?? Mr. Damien reached over and stroked my face, causing my Cock Hungry Lips to gap open unconsciously, desperate to satisfy their hunger. "You are submissive, aren't you, Kitten? Deeply submissive, and you need someone to control you and tell you what to do. Isn't that right, Kitten?" He said this last question with such authority that I was forced to agree. "Yes, sir," I whimpered, deeply ashamed. "That's right, Kitten." He held a finger to my mouth and automatically I began to suck on it, like I was sucking on a cock. As I did, my brain became more fogged, my focus narrowed to the finger being thrust in and out of my mouth. Mr. Damien?s finger. "You need someone to worship. That's just who you are. And you need someone to obey. And you need someone to be loyal to. Isn't that right, Kitten?" "Mmm, hmmm," I moaned, agreeing. The words entered me and had the feeling of deeply felt truth. I had felt that Mr. Damien was my idol for a long time now. I have looked up to him as a business icon, maverick, mergers and acquisitions financier... It only felt natural that I should worship him and... obey him. Obey him. Something didn't feel right about that... why would I... obey? Did something happen that I hadn't figured out yet? Why can't I think straight...? But then he thrust his finger deep into my mouth and I sucked greedily on it and all I could think about was how My Cock Hungry Lips needed some satisfaction, and would Mr. Damien ever give that to me?? "Tell me," he said, taking his hand away, leaving me heavy lidded and panting for more. All I could think about was how I needed something to suck on! Where was the finger? "Kitten!" Mr. Damien scolded. "Tell me!" "Tell you... tell you what... sir?" I asked, confused and anxious. Had I displeased Mr. Damien? What did he want me to do?? "Tell me how much you need me. Tell me how much you worship me. Tell me how loyal you are to me. Tell me how you... love me." I love Mr. Damien. His words took on an elemental truthfulness. Of course I would be happy to say these things. I had only been waiting for an opportunity! These were so necessary... so much a part of me... my heart ached with need to express these overwhelming feelings of devotion... "Oh, yes, Mr. Damien! Sir. I need you so much!" I babbled, hardly knowing what I was saying. "I would completely be lost without you. I'd be nothing but a wretch, adrift and without purpose, on the street, homeless. And of course I worship you! You are the most amazing man. You are everything I had always wanted to be, but now I know that I can never be. Your grace and elegance and nobility are so far above me, how else could I do anything else but worship you? Worship you forever? "And yes, I am loyal. I would never, ever betray you. I look only to make your life as beautiful and easy as possible. You occupy my every waking thought for how I can be of help to you. You have my undying loyalty forever more. I would never, ever be tempted by thoughts against you no matter who or how. I am yours, entirely. "But most of all is love. I love you. I love you more than anything or anyone in the world. I have never said it because I was too scared of what you might think, such an insignificant, worthless person like me loving someone so far above me. But I do. I can't help myself. I love you with all my heart and all my soul." Where did all this come from? I thought, getting seriously freaked out. Did I really believe all this? But I must, right, because I'm the one who said these words...? And they feel like the truth... So they must be the truth, right? I was so confused. I looked at Mr. Damien with tears in my eyes, not knowing if I was crying because of my overwhelming feelings towards him or because I was so confused and conflicted. Mr. Damien was drinking it all in. As I gave him my power, as I pledged myself into his hands, he seemed to grow, both physically - appearing larger, stronger, taller - but also in character, becoming more confident, powerful, demanding and entitled. "That's excellent, Kitten," he said, with a self-satisfied smile. "Now here's how this is going to work. I will pay off all your debts and give you a place to stay with free room and board." WHAT? I gasped. This was too good to be true!! "Oh, thank you! Thank you, Mr. Damien!" This time my reaction was undeniable. I was crying tears of joy. Oh, the relief! Oh, my savior! "Oh my gosh!! I don't know how I could ever--" "But in exchange!" he interrupted me. Immediately I shut up so he could talk, thinking that no matter what he said I would agree to it. "In exchange," Mr. Damien continued, "you will become my devoted *girlfriend* and *household servant*." A jolt of electricity sliced through me. "G-g-girlfriend and s-s-servant?" I asked with an involuntary shiver. "Yes," he growled, enjoying this moment to its fullest, seeing my shocked expression." My *girlfriend* and *servant*. And yes, I mean girlfriend in every way. You already look the part. I love your breasts -- I like women with big breasts -- and your makeup is fantastic. And don't worry, I know you?re intact, 'down there'. I like that you're locked up and under my control. No, that I definitely like." He reached into my skirts and grasped my cock, trapped, painfully stretched in its plastic chastity cage, making me moan. Oh God, The Needy Itch in my bottom, oh God, how I needed relief! I had been so uncomfortable all evening! It needed to be penetrated, a thought which made me ashamed. "As my girlfriend," he continued, "you will need to be exceptionally *devoted*, *eager*, *loving*, *cheerful* and most of all, *grateful*." "Eager and grateful..." I repeated, not thinking clearly. Mr. Damien's girlfriend? "Mr. Damien, sir--" "Kitten, when you're dressed like this, in girl's clothes and not in servant clothes--" Servant clothes? What the hell are servant clothes? I wondered. "When you're dressed like this, you are my girlfriend and not my servant. Therefore, please call me Kirk, like a girlfriend would." "Okay... Kirk," I said, confused. First I had to call him 'Sir' or 'Mr. Damien', but now I was supposed to call him 'Kirk'? "I'm... I'm your girlfriend?" "Yes Kitten. In order to pay off your debts and have someplace to live, you agreed to be my girlfriend. Don't you remember?" "I... I don't know... Kirk..." I mumbled, suddenly unsure of myself. "But that's not a problem, is it, Kitten? Because you love me, don't you? You just a minute ago told me you love me." "I love you..." I said, more repeating what Kirk was saying rather than saying it for myself. I love Kirk. "Very good, Kitten," Kirk leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, causing goosebumps to break out all over and The Tingles to overwhelm my breasts. "Now, I think it's very simple. When a girl like you..." he paused. "A girl like me?" I repeated. "That's right, Kitten. When a girl like you loves a man like me..." "Loves a man like you..." "Then that girl is that man's girlfriend. Isn't that right? As in a romantic girlfriend and sexual partner, benefits included. Isn't that right, Kitten?" "I'm a girlfriend?" I struggled to keep up. Why was everything so muddled inside? What Kirk was saying made sense but... did I really tell him that I loved him? Did I really say that I was his girlfriend? I must have... right? Kirk wouldn't lie to me, I know he wouldn't. I trust him implicitly. But... I'm his girlfriend? "I'm your girlfriend?" I asked. "That's right, Kitten. You're my *devoted* girlfriend." "I'm your *devoted girlfriend," I said, stating it like a fact. "That means that you've devoted your whole life to me. That everything I say or do is perfectly correct and appropriate. Isn't that right, Kitten?" "Yes, Kirk," I said, just because it seemed right to agree with him. After all, he is my boyfriend... isn't he? My life is devoted to Kirk. "And you're my *eager* girlfriend, aren't you, Kitten?" "Yes, Kirk. I'm your eager girlfriend." "That means that you are eager to be with me, that you eagerly do everything and anything I want. You are eager to please me. Isn't that right? And you love nothing more than to spend all of your energies to be the best girlfriend you can possibly be, isn't that right, Kitten?" "Yes, Kirk... I am so eager to please you." After all, if Kirk is my boyfriend... Therefore, I must be his eager girlfriend? Right? After all, I do love him so much. Don't I? Of course I do... I am Kirk's eager girlfriend! I felt the words enter into my soul, changing reality, adjusting my feelings. It seems I couldn't help myself. I just so much wanted to worship and love this man. I worship Kirk! "And loving," Kirk continued. "You are my loving girlfriend, because you love me so much, don't you, Kitten? You want to do all of those things that girlfriends do for the men they love, don't you. Just being with me brings you pleasure, doesn't it? And being away makes you sad. Your love for me consumes you, body and soul. Doesn't it?" "Oh Kirk," I felt a tear forming in my eye. "I love you so much! Thank you so much for allowing me to be your girlfriend!" I love Kirk! "And you know how much I appreciate your cheerful and positive attitude." "You do?" I asked, honestly confused. I never thought of myself as particularly positive or cheerful. "Absolutely! There's nothing that I like more than a girlfriend who always sees the best in any situation or person. Who is optimistic and friendly and bright and cheerful, like you!" I tried hard to think to myself. I mean, I guess I must be cheerful and positive just like Kirk said I was. After all, if that's what he said I was, then perhaps I was? Perhaps I had just never noticed before, because Kirk was just the first person to have pointed it out? A big, friendly smile lit up my face. "Thank you for noticing," I said, even more amazed that this man could see hidden qualities in me that I didn't even know I had. I am Kirk's bright and cheerful girlfriend! "I especially love how you see the beauty and the positive in the world," Kirk said. Was that a sarcastic smirk I saw on his face? But no, it couldn't be. I must have misread him. After all, why would he be sarcastic? No, I decided I would just be my normal, cheerful trusting self and take his words at face value. To believe him with all my heart. I must believe everything that Kirk says with my whole heart. "It is so true," I gushed. "The world really is such a wonderful place full of beauty. I mean, of course I know that there's difficulties and troubles too, but really, once you get to know someone, you realize that everyone is really just trying to do what's best, on the whole." "That's my Kitten," Kirk said, stroking my cheek and making me purr. "And it all makes you so *grateful*, doesn't it? And specifically, grateful to me?" "Oh, Kirk, yes! Thank you SO MUCH! I would be nothing without you. I'd be a homeless wretch in some ditch someplace, but here I am, with the most amazing boyfriend that any girl could have, in a *limo*, after just having had this *amazing* meal, and here we are, and I love you so much. Thank you, Kirk. I owe you everything, and I will never, *ever* forget it. You are... so amazing!" It was like I was listening to myself as an outside observer. Where were these words coming from? Obviously I was saying them, but did I mean them? It sure sounded like I did. If I am saying these words and it sounds like I really, really mean it... does that mean I do? That I'm really grateful to Kirk like I'm saying that I am? But I am grateful for him. I have no job and no prospects. I'm deep in debt... "Excellent," Kirk said, smiling at me as if all his dreams had come true. "Now Kitten, tell me. What would an eager, obedient, grateful, *loving* girlfriend, like you, want to do more than anything right now for her amazing boyfriend?" My eyes opened wide, confused and scared. Kirk wanted me to do something. But what? Think, Kitten, think! What would an eager, grateful, cheerful girlfriend do in a situation like this? Tentatively I reached out and placed a hand on his crotch. "Oh!" he said, with a shocked, but delighted snort of surprise. "Well, I hadn't expected that quite so soon. And I love your enthusiasm, Kitten, we'll certainly get to that later! But can you think of something else, perhaps not quite so... forward?" I looked at him for a second, not understanding, before finally, something clicked inside of me. I'm his girlfriend. Kirk is my boyfriend. I should be doing what a girl would do for her lover. What would she do? She'd look at him with desire and then... She'd give him a kiss. She'd give him a hug... They would make out. I tilted my head down, submissively, but then looked up at him with hungry eyes, through the hair of my wig which was cascading down over my face. "Of course I can think of something," I said with a husky voice. I hiked up my skirt and then moved to sit in Kirk's lap, facing him, my legs straddling his. I used a finger to tuck the hair of my wig back behind my ear and then looked him with wide, eager eyes, gently biting my lip with desire and indecision. Gently I stroked his chest, enjoying the fact that Kirk was breathing heavily, looking at me with undisguised lust. "Yes..." he whispered. "I love you, Kirk," I said, softly. I leaned in and just like that, we're making out. His lips were soft and slightly scratchy and I was eager and soon we're all tongues and French kissing. My eyes were closed and I guess I must have enjoyed it. He smelled amazing. Manly. Musky. He tasted amazing. He was warm and wet and with demanding lips, his slightly scratch face against my soft and smooth one, our cheeks and noses touching. The Tingles were driving me crazy and I felt such love and peace, sitting on my boyfriend's lap and kissing him as his hands roamed all over me, stroking underneath my skirt and then groping my breasts before slipping into my hair where he held my neck. "Oh yes, Kitten," he breathed, with such pleasure that a surge of love flowed through me. I was so grateful for Kirk for rescuing me and for everything, that hearing him enjoy my body and my lips and my kissing.... his girlfriend, me.... was the culmination of everything I ever wanted. With a mechanical whirr, the divider lowered. "We're here, sir," said the driver. "Give us a minute," Kirk said as we continued to kiss and feel up each other like horny teenagers under the jealous gaze of the chauffeur. *** Inside the foyer of the mansion, Kirk thrust me against the wall and continued to kiss me, his tongue thrust down my throat. I felt his hard cock pressing against my body. It made me hungry for more. "Oh God, oh shit," he kept saying, over and over. "I've never been this horny. Fuck!" Kirk unzipped and pulled off my skirt, throwing it on the floor, and then turned me around and unbuttoned my blouse. He took his time, and I submitted meekly and willingly as he man-handled my bottom through the silky nylon half-slip and groped my breasts. His fingers digging into my arse crack made The Needy Itch so painful I could barely contain myself. I pressed my body into his and moaned, desperate for relief. His kisses were wet and sloppy and his face was scratchy against my lips and cheeks. "You love him," I kept saying to myself. "You're his *eager* girlfriend. You are so grateful to be his girlfriend! He's taking care of everything for you!" And so, with renewed enthusiasm, I focused my entire attention on this amazing man who, apparently, I loved with all my heart, as I had said in the limo. I returned his kisses with as much tongue as I could, I stroked his body all over and I moaned with appreciation. 'Yes!' my moans said to him. 'I am as turned on as you are! I love you! I love your attention! Please, I am your submissive, obedient girlfriend who is eager to give you pleasure in any way that you want!' Finally, Kirk couldn't take it anymore and dragged me up one side of the dual the wide, curved stairway, leaving my clothes on the floor of the foyer. I stumbled to keep up in my high heels. At the top of the stairs, he led me down the hall to the master bedroom suite. I only had a moment to admire the massive and opulently decorated bedroom: The massive four- poster canopy bed dripping with heavy curtains, the numerous sofas and upholstered chairs, the light wood antiques, the plush oriental rugs. "Take off your knickers," he commanded, throwing me onto the bed. He stripped while I scrambled to remove my panties, wanting desperately to please him and knowing that, without panties, I might finally get some relief for The Needy Itch. Should I remove my high heels? I wondered, but decided to leave them on along with my stockings, suspenders, slip, bra and, of course, the humiliating collar with KITTEN spelled out in rhinestones. "Face down, bum up, like a good slut," he growled, slapping my bottom as he got into bed, holding a tube of lubricant. "That's a good slut girlfriend, Kitten," he said. My face was planted firmly into the soft, satin comforter. He pushed up the slip over my hips and began teasing me. "God this makes me so HOT," he moaned, flicking a fingernail at my hard plastic chastity cage. "And *I* have the key. You're mine. I own you! How does it feel to be under lock and key?" "Oh Kirk, Kirk..." All I could do was to moan his name. I felt cold lubricant dripping into my crack, followed by Kirk's finger which spread it around and then thrust quickly into my bottom, making me squeal. But his fingers didn't make the itch better, they only made it worse! It felt like my sphincter was on fire, a desperate desire needing to be quenched. But previously, my own fingers had made it better. What was wrong? I felt Kirk's hard, naked cock laying lengthwise against my bottom, slipping between my cheeks, slick with lube, as Kirk thrust against me. I looked back at him, my eyes heavy lidded, to see this sculpted man - he clearly worked out every day (in his own gym I would discover later) - kneeling behind me and grasping my bottom. "What do you *need*? Kitten?"he gasped. "What's my girlfriend want, RIGHT NOW? Tell me! Tell me what you need! And I'll give it to you!!" It was clear what he wanted. I was clear what *I* wanted!! "FUCK ME!" I screamed, desperate now. "FUCK MY BOTTOM! OH, Kirk! Please! Give me your cock in my ass! I need it SO BAD. OH GOD, PLEASE! FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARD!" "Well, if that's what you really want," Kirk said, teasing me by pressing the the tip of his cock into my before pulling out. "But... are you sure??" "YES! I'm SURE! Please!" I whimpered, my face pressed into the bed causing the wig to shift to the side getting hair in my face. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Kirk pressed the head of his cock into me (it's a nice sized cock, but thank the Lord who is looking out for me, not so large as to be too painful), but then he pulled out again. "Are you my anal-slut girlfriend?" he asked. "YES! I am your ANAL SLUT GIRLFRIEND! FUCK ME!" I screamed, followed by "oh yes, OH YES!!" as he pressed his cock into my ass, touching those deep parts that desperately needed it. But then the bastard stopped and pulled out again! "And will you always be my loyal girlfriend? No matter what? Will you give up your bum to be fucked by me whenever I want? Will you always be my cheerful and grateful girlfriend? FOREVER??" "Yes, Kirk! I promise!" I was sobbing by now, so desperate that I would agree to anything. "I will be your girlfriend FOREVER!" I said. "I will always be LOYAL. I am SO GRATEFUL. PLEASE FUCK ME. FUCK ME. FUCK ME!!" And finally he did, thrusting his big, slippery cock deep into my needy bottom, going so deep that his hips pressed against my arse cheeks. Pulling out and adding more lubricant, he did it again, and then started fucking me in earnest. "GOD you are so TIGHT," he gasped. "Oh God, how I've wanted this. Ever since I first saw you, I wanted you owned, locked and fucked!!" But I wasn't listening, and just felt as I felt that The Needy Itch was *finally* being satisfied, and that satisfaction spread throughout my body, as his cock milked my prostate, causing first a dribble and then as stream of my sperm to leak out of my soft, locked penis and on to the comforter, not an orgasm, not exactly, just deep, deep satisfaction, while Kirk lost his mind, thrust all the way in, causing me to wince in pain, and then he came, shooting his seed deep into my ass, claiming me as his own, marking his territory. *** Chapter 7: Submission "What the..." Kirk examined the label on the bottle of wine I had fetched for him. "This is my Romanee Comte!" After our anal sex, Kirk ordered me to clean us both up, which I did to the best of my ability with a washcloth from the bathroom. I then freshened up, straightened the wig and redid my makeup. Once that was done, he ordered me to fetch him a glass of wine, which I did, bringing the bottle in case he wanted a refill. Kirk got out of bed, grasped me by the arm and roughly pulled me to my feet. "That is my best bottle of wine," he snarled. "I was saving it for a special occasion!" And then, with his open palm, he slapped me hard in the face. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" I screamed, sinking to the ground. "I didn't know!" "THAT BOTTLE COST ME OVER 3000 pounds!" "Oh my God..." I whispered, not believing that a single bottle of wine could cost that much. "I'm so sorry! Please, add it to my debt! Please, Kirk..." I whimpered. "I think someone needs to learn a valuable lesson," Kirk said, reaching into the nightstand drawer and pulling out a spanking paddle (!!). "My girlfriend needs to learn to appreciate my property and to treat it with respect. What were you thinking? Didn't you wonder about which bottle of wine to get?" "I did," I said, looking at the paddle with wide eyes, tears dripping down my face. "B-b-b-but I didn't want to bother you with a lot of questions a- a-and I just thought that probably a-a-any bottle would be ok-k-k-kay, I'm so sorry!" Kirk pushed me onto the bed, such that my legs were hanging down over the edge. He pushed my slip up, exposing my bottom. And damn it, just his light fingers on my bottom caused The Needy Itch to start up again. Damn it, did I want to have anal again so soon? What is wrong with me? "You'll feel better after a nice hard spanking," Kirk said, twisting an arm behind my back and pressing me down into the bed so I couldn't escape. Trapped, there was nothing I could do as he proceeded to give me twenty- five searing strokes on my bottom with the paddle. After just five I was broken. Sobbing, screaming and struggling with all my might to get away. But he was strong and held me in place until my 'disciplinary medicine' was fully delivered, leaving me a sobbing, runny- nose, red and splotchy puddle on the bed. "Have we learned our lesson?" Kirk asked. "Yes! I'm so sorry! I will be more careful in the future and I will be more respectful of your property, I promise!" "That's my good Kitten," Kirk said, spreading some soothing moisturizer on my red hot and bruised bottom. "Now hold still..." And just then I felt something press against my anus. It was hot, hard, fleshy and well lubricated. Kirk fucked me in my "oh God, I can't believe how tight you are" arse for the second time that night. *** "Enjoying yourself down there?" "Mmm... yes Kirk!" I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could, before putting his cock back in my mouth. After my 'discipline medicine' (and after I cleaned us both up, *again*), Kirk suggested that I say 'thank you' by worshiping his knob. "You know," he added. "With your mouth," as if it weren?t obvious. I hesitated only for a second before I saw a look on Kirk's face which told me that a truly eager and grateful girl would be eager to obey. And so I quickly clambered onto the bed, and while Kirk lay back on the pillows, I put my lips to his penis and started gently licking it. Just having it within close proximity of my mouth gave me a bad case of Cock Hungry Lips. All day I had felt this need, which I understood from Amy to be that I was Cock Hungry, but I didn't know what that *really* meant until I was here, with an actual cock... Kirk's cock, right in front of me. And then I could feel it... a hunger, a desire... a need to have his member inside my mouth and to feel him ejaculating over my tongue. But I couldn't do it all at once, Kirk was too sensitive for that. I had to start with gentle licking and nuzzling, kissing it with soft lips. It became my whole world, my obsession. Once he began to grow, I was able to put his cock in my mouth and really start to enjoy it. I found myself fascinated by the head of his circumcised penis. My tongue and lips ran over the ridge of his knob, delighting in the feel of it. "Hey! Easy," Kirk admonished. "I'm still sensitive from earlier." "Sorry," I mumbled, my mouth full of cock. And so I simply held him in my mouth, gently sucking, applying as much wet and slippery mouth to his entire shaft and being as gentle as I could, humming softly on occasion and making satisfied sighs (like a devoted girlfriend who loves sucking her boyfriend?s cock would do). This continued for a very long time, maybe as much as a half hour (Kirk stroking my hair and sipping wine) as I felt him gradually rise to full tumescence in my mouth. Of course it occurred to me that I was now, officially, a cock sucker. A wally washer. A knob gobbler. Oh God, I'm a cock sucker. And I love it. I like sucking cock. I have Cock Hungry Lips, and now that I have them wrapped around Kirk's cock, I feel like I just want to stay like this forever... "More," he said, tapping me on the head. Ever the obedient girlfriend, I began to suck his rod in earnest, drawing it into my mouth as deep (I would definitely have to learn to deep throat, I decided) and using my tongue to stimulate it. Oh God, it felt so good... so right... so much like this is where I was meant to be. Maybe it was all true? Maybe I was meant to be Kirk's cock sucking girlfriend? Maybe The Cock Hungry Lips was a sign? Soon, Kirk grunted, held my head as he pistoned his cock into my mouth and then came, with a short series of jerks, spilling a small amount of his seed into my mouth. It tasted salty and good. I spent some time softly licking and sucking his rapidly deflating penis, to make sure that it was nice and clean. Then I looked up to see his reaction, hoping for praise or a "Good job, Kitten!" But he was sound asleep. *** Chapter 8: Around the House I slept poorly that night. This was the first time I had slept in chastity, and it was painful. I kept getting erections (or partial erections) causing the device to pull at my balls. And I was horny. Desperately horny. I tried playing with myself, but I couldn't get any feeling from it. It was like my penis was just disconnected from my body, which I suppose in a way it was. I tried humping a pillow between my legs, but even though I humped and humped for what seemed like hours, and I could tell I was excited and desperate to come... nothing. I just couldn't give myself enough stimulation to push me over the edge. And Kirk slept soundly through all of it. Like the dead. Finally, I fell into a ragged, exhausted sleep. *** Waking up next to Kirk was bizarre. The morning cleared my head a bit and the whole strangeness of the situation came back to me in a rush. I spent the night in bed with a man!! Oh God. I slept with a man last night, wearing just a slip and a bra (with breast forms). I found my wig which had came loose the night before and placed it back on my head, trying to brush it out with my fingers. The events of the previous day started coming back to me. Kirk with the key to my chastity cage, telling me that now I was 'owned'. Making out in the limo. I certainly seemed to be into it! I remembered how vividly I seemed to be in love with him. Oh God, what had I said? I wondered. Cheerful... eager... grateful... The words went through my head and almost unconsciously I began to feel myself slip into 'girlfriend mode', looking over at Kirk sleeping next to me and feeling those feelings. So grateful... I am eternally grateful to Kirk. Stop that! Then I remembered what happened last night. Oh, did he really... did we really...? Not aware of what I was doing, I put a pillow between my legs and started humping it again. As the events of the previous night replayed themselves in my head, I could feel "The Need Itch" come back in full force. And then I remembered what it felt like... to have Kirk's cock thrust up my arse. His long, slippery cock... reaching those deep places. And what had I said? Oh God save me. I had agreed to be his anal slut girlfriend. Forever. I blushed with shame. 'You are Kirk's girlfriend now,' a little voice in my head say. 'His eager and grateful anal slut, cock sucking girlfriend.' Noooo.... I moaned, humping the pillow harder. But it was impossible. Desperate and sweaty, all I was doing was getting more and more frustrated. Finally I stopped and lay on my back, out of breath. Fuck. What was wrong with me?? What am I going to do now? I looked over at Kirk who shifted in his sleep to face me. "I love you." The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them What the hell was that? Did I really love him? I am in love with Kirk. 'You are his loving, eager and grateful anal slut, cock-sucking girlfriend,' said the voice in my head. "I am your girlfriend," I whispered. What would an eager and grateful girlfriend do in the morning for her man? I hopped out of bed to make him breakfast. *** Kirk woke up when I entered the room with a tray full of breakfast smells (scrambled eggs, fried tomato, back bacon, toast, orange juice, coffee with milk and sugar). I had re-done my makeup and fixed my hair. Thanks to the laser hair removal, I had no hair on my face so I didn?t have to shave. I felt like a happy homemaker, all made up for her husband in the morning. If only I had a string of pearls... "Wonderful!" he said, sitting up. "That's my good Kitten. I bet you're hungry too, am I right? Why don't you suck my cock while I eat." I put the tray on the bed next to him and then knelt between his legs. Oh God. There it was. His cock. It was already hard. Like me, Kirk would get a stiffy every morning. Nocturnal Penile Tumescence. NPT. His Morning Glory. And it would be my pleasure to take care of it. Somehow, the thought of putting it in my mouth was about 100x more disgusting in the light of the morning than it was the night before, when I was so desperate to please him. "What's the matter, Kitten?" Kirk asked, taking a bite of bread and a sip of coffee. "Cat got your tongue?" He laughed at his own lame joke. I knew if I took too long he might get soft, and then I would have to spend *more* time sucking his cock to get it hard again, which, at the moment, was the last thing I wanted. 'You're his girlfriend,' I thought to myself, trying to build up my courage. 'Just do it. It's not that big a deal.' Then another part of my brain would say: 'But it means you're a cock sucker. You are literally Kirk's cock sucking girlfriend.' Because I could sense that Kirk was getting annoyed, I wrapped my hand around his hard member and started to softly stroke him. And just that sensation of holding a man's hard penis, and seeing my delicate fingers with their long pink fingernails, like a porn video, wrapped around his warm, red, demanding cock... my Cock Hungry Lips started to yearn for some satisfaction. What is going on with me? I wondered, briefly. One moment I'm disgusted, thinking of putting his willie in my mouth, and now... well, I'm still disgusted, but now I'm hungry for it as well? My willpower in shreds, I leaned over, tried to ignore his musky, male, unwashed 'I just had sex all night' smell, and put my lips around his fleshy pole. Oh.... As soon as I tasted him, as soon as I felt him in my mouth, the skin of his most intimate appendage sliding into me, my lips and tongue wrapped around his veiny rod, I felt at peace. What had I been worried about? I wondered. That I was Kirk's cock-sucking girlfriend? Well, of course I am, I realized, as I moaned with satisfaction. I am Kirk's cock-sucking girlfriend. Maybe he'll fuck me in the arse, I thought to myself, squirming with delight. Yes, that would be wonderful... I began to gently manipulate his balls in my hand, rolling his testicles in my fingers. Kirk ate his breakfast as I sucked his cock. Somehow I sensed that he wanted me to take my time, so I did. But at some point I could tell that he had stopped eating, and was concentrating on his dick. And when that happened, I began to lick intently right underneath the helmet of his penis, a man's most sensitive spot. "Oh, fuck, yes," he gasped, grasping my head with both hands and thrusting his cock into my mouth. Desperately I did my best to keep my teeth out of the way, as he jacked his pole into the back of my mouth, making me gag, thrusting into my throat. The angle wasn't good, so he couldn't get all the way in, but it was enough to push him over the edge. "FUCK YEAH," he shouted. The first shot went straight down my throat. The second coated my throat, and the third, as he pulled back, went straight in my face. I stroked his pulsing cock with my hands, trying my best to smile up at him, desperately swallowing to clear my throat so I could breath, a string of cum striped across my eyelid and cheek. "Oh Kitten," Kirk sighed, his cock pulsing one last time as I drew him into my mouth again, this time with suction so I could get as much of his spunk as possible. "I'll want this every morning," he sighed. *** "This is your room," Kirk said, opening the door to a large guest bedroom. "Whenever you're not sleeping with me, then you can sleep here." "It's beautiful, thank you Kirk!" I squealed like a girl. The bedroom was almost as large as my old apartment. It was done all in pink (appropriate for a girlfriend, I guess) with pink shag carpeting, dark pink curtains and light pink bed linens. I stood in the middle of the room, wearing just my bra and nylon slip, amazed. "You're welcome," Kirk smiled. "I had a designer come in and do it. I told her to make it for a 'girly-girl' who loves all things feminine and adorable." I looked at Kirk, shocked. A designer? For how long has he been planning this? "And here's your writing desk," he continued. "I hope it will become a safe space where you can write and do crafts and be creative." "Crafts?" I asked. "Oh, you know, crafts like a good girlfriend would do, to keep herself occupied." "Such as?" "I don't know. Greeting cards, lace, needlepoint, that sort of thing. You know, women's stuff." "Oh... okay," I said. Then, because I remembered I was supposed to be his eager and grateful girlfriend, I did my best to smile. "That sounds lovely!" "Amy has some ideas," Kirk continued. "She wants you to start a scrapbook." "A scrapbook? For what? What would it include?" "You know, of your new life as my girlfriend. Pictures of us, things you clip out of women's magazines, your hopes and dreams, stuff like that." "Oh, okay. I can't wait!" I did my best to sound enthusiastic. "And here's the best part. Your closet!" Kirk opened a walk-in closet full of clothes. "M-my c-c-closet?" I stammered. "This is... mine?" "Yes, your closet. The chest of drawers over there has all your lingerie, knickers, stockings, suspenders, bras and foundation wear and all that. Everything else you will wear will come from this closet." "But... what about my... other clothes...?" "Your... male clothes?" Kirk snorted, then looked at me. "What's your name?" He said it with such intensity that I knew it was a test. "K-Kitten," I stammered. "Does that sound like someone who wears male clothing?" "No, sir," I said, suddenly feeling submissive. "Certainly not. And what are you, Kitten?" "I... I'm your girlfriend, Kirk. You're cock sucking..." I gulped, still tasting his morning cum on my tongue, "girlfriend." Kirk held my chin in his fingers and pulled me into a long, deep kiss. "That's right, Kitten," he breathed. "Now say it again." "I'm your girlfriend." He kissed me again with his scratchy lips. I could taste coffee. I felt all twisty and tingly inside. "And how do you feel about me, Kitten?" Kirk asked, whispering, his hot breath on my ear and brushing over my bare neck. "I love you, Kirk." "Say it again." "I love you, Kirk." "Again." "I love you!" I felt tears forming in my eyes. But why? Why was I getting all emotional? "I love you," I muttered, this time reaching out of my own accord and giving him a kiss. "So, tell me Kitten, do you think I would want my loving *girlfriend* to wear male clothes?" Kirk asked. "No," I admitted. "Of course not." "Exactly. I want my girlfriend to be dressed like a *girl*. A hot and sexy girl. So, since you're my girlfriend now and you won't be needing any of your old clothes, what do you think we should do with them?" I felt myself being backed into a corner. Of course I didn't want to get rid of my male clothes. That would be horrible. A lot of them were new since I started my new job. And the rest all had sentimental value. The Band T-Shirt for that concert I organized. The jeans that got ripped when I had sex with my old girlfriend Lucy in the school utility closet. My interview suit. But I knew what I had to say. After all, I am Kirk's girlfriend, aren't I? And I was so grateful for how he took me in and gave me a place to stay. Otherwise I would be on the street, for sure. I wanted to please him... didn't I? At least I thought I did. It must be true, because he kept telling me it was true. "Get rid of them, I guess," I said, feeling a wave of shame and sadness wash over me. "Very good, I knew you'd see it my way. Don't worry, Kitten, you don't have to think for yourself. I'll do that for you. I'll send someone to clean out your apartment, we'll just throw everything away and I'll pay the back rent and add it to your debts. Okay?" "Okay," I said, sounding like a small girl. "Thank you, Kirk." Something wasn't right, but I was feeling too stupid and thick headed to figure out what it was. Probably it was nothing. Kirk was right. I should just not worry about it and just trust him to do what's best for me. I gave him a kiss. "Thank you Kirk," I said again, this time feeling truly grateful. Kirk led me into the closet, which was enormous, and showed me racks of clothes for all occasions. "Amy put this all together," he explained. "She's available to help you learn how to mix and match and what goes with what." There were sections for skirts, blouses, dresses, gowns, fantasy uniforms (!!) and an entire wall of shoes, all in separate boxes, each with a picture carefully taped to the front of the box. "N-no trousers?" I asked, my voice quavering. "Oh, Kitten. You're not the sort of girl who wears trousers, are you?" "I guess not," I said, feeling something inside me twist up. "That's my girl. After all," he said, reaching underneath my nylon slip to play with my naked bottom, "I need access." "Yes, Kirk," I said, submissively, squirming as his fingers stroked between my buns, making me pant. The Needy Itch was back with a vengeance. Suddenly I was desperate for Kirk to thrust his cock up my bottom. His hand never leaving my bum, Kirk led me out of the walk-in closet. "Over there's your dressing table, where you apply your makeup. Here's your en-suite bathroom. It should have all the supplies that you?ll need to stay young and beautiful." The bathroom was enormous, with both a tub and a shower and tiled in marble. I saw that it was stocked with all sorts of women's products, from shampoos and conditioners to depilatories, shavers and moisturizers. "Now my anal slut, why don't you take a shower and get all nice and clean and sweet smelling for your man?" Kirk smirked. "Then put on something sexy for me and meet me in the living room." "Yes, Kirk," I said, my eyes cast down submissively. "Thank you." I paused, kissed him on the cheek, and added "I love you." for good measure. Unfortunately, I was starting to believe it. *** "Adorable," Kirk said, as I entered the living room. I tucked some hair behind an ear and smiled. His praise entered me like a flowing warmth. "Why aren't you wearing earrings?" "I... uh..." I stammered. "My ears are not pierced.? "Humph. I'll ask Amy to fix that." Now I have to get piercings? Was there anything I wouldn't do for him? I felt my eyes water. "Come here," Kirk indicated, putting his iPad aside. I sat in his lap like an obedient girlfriend and we kissed for a while. I could feel his hard penis poking against my bottom. I was wearing a tight, fuzzy pink sweater top which showed off my curves. At first I felt uncomfortable as he groped me, but after a while I was able to relax into it. I am eternally grateful for everything that Kirk has done for me. After our make out session, Kirk showed me around the house. As we walked from room to room, his hands never left my body. Either he held me around the waist, or his hand was underneath my skirt, feeling up my bottom. I was getting a seriously bad attack of The Need Itch. OMG, the house was a mansion! There were eight bedrooms, a massive kitchen, living room, dining room, sun room, even a small ball room! Everything was updated and modern, with wall to wall carpeting in most rooms, modern fixtures and windows, granite and dark hardwood surfaces. Many of the rooms had wood paneling, others had beautiful cloth wallpaper. Outside there was a pool, an English garden with a pond and fountain, hedges, and enormous grounds with a "prettyish kind of a little wilderness" to one side, about 8 acres total. "I have gardeners to handle the outside, but the entire inside will be your domain," said Kirk. "Of course, there's only the two of us, so I don't expect it will be a big burden on your time. But I will expect for the entire house to be hoovered at least once a week and twice a week for our bedroom, dining room, living room and entryway. The kitchen must be clean at all times, no dirty dishes, ever. The beds must be made every day, both yours and mine. And everything must be tidied up and sorted every day. No piles of loose papers or magazines or random mail laying about. Clothes should be washed and dried every day. Do you understand, Kitten?" "Y-y-you mean I have to clean this place every day?" I asked, feeling trapped. Kirk grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to the living room sofa where he roughly pulled me across his lap, raised my skirts, lowered my knickers and spanked me with his bare hand. On top of the spanking with the paddle from the day before, this HURT! Almost immediately, I was screaming and crying, kicking my legs and desperate to escape. Finally he was done. I was a slobbering, blubbery mess, gasping and crying, desperately trying to not drip tears and snot and drool on the sofa. "You should *want* to clean," Kirk said, nastily. "You should be looking for ways to please me. Not giving me this attitude." "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I apologized, sobbing. "Of course I want to clean! I love you! I want to take care of your house. I will love to do it! I'll be grateful to do it!" Kirk paused for a long time. "That's better," he said, finally. "That's the attitude I want from my girlfriend, Kitten. Do you love me?" "I love you, Kirk," I said, through my tears. "I love you so much." "And are you grateful for your spanking?" "Yes," I said, automatically. "Thank you for teaching me how to be a better girlfriend, Kirk. I want to be the best and most obedient girlfriend for you that I can possibly be." *** Once the tour of the house was over, including the basement wine cellar (!) which was a supplement to the floor-to-ceiling wine refrigerator in the kitchen, the exercise room, the sewing room and the library (!!), Kirk dragged me back to the bedroom where he fucked his 'anal slut' in the arse again and then we spent the rest of the day in his bedroom, kissing and fucking. And after a while, I actually began to not hate it very much. Maybe I even started to enjoy it. *** Chapter 9: My Mantras The next day Kirk went to work. His office was in London, about an hour away. This left me alone in the house. My computer was with the rest of my stuff in my apartment. I had no idea what would become of it, but I suspected that Kirk was going to sell it along with all of my clothes. I had a mobile, which Kirk had got from Todd, but it was severely disabled, as if I were an 8 year old. The only numbers I could call were Amy, Todd and Kirk, the only application was a web browser, and the only sites I could browse were about a dozen 'crafting' sites for knitting, needlepoint and scrap-booking. No e-mail. No social media. With a heavy sigh, I went to get a shower. *** The previous day I had raced through my shower, not wanting to keep Kirk waiting. Today I went slower, investigating everything. I found a list of instructions from Amy which included shaving my legs and underarms, shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, about five different skin treatments, baby powder, and blow dry. It took a long time. And then dressing in lingerie, stockings, knickers, suspenders, slip, and bra. And then makeup. There was another set of instructions on my makeup table. Touch-up, foundation, eyeliner, eye shadow (three kinds), blush, lip liner, lipstick, some perfume on my pulse points... And then, a housedress. Short, but classy with a print pattern of roses. I added a string of pearls, a bracelet and some three inch high heels (Kirk mentioned that he wanted me wearing heels all the time) and I was done. I twirled in front of the mirror. This was nice, I decided. Amy?s instructions indicated that I had to send a selfie to her and Kirk, which I did, pouting and looking what I hoped was cute and sexy. Then I stopped short. What the hell is happening to me? I wondered, staring at myself in the mirror. Just two days ago I was Colin. And now my name is Kitten? "My name is Kitten," I said, out-loud. "I am Kitten." My name is Kitten. I love my name, it suits me. I sat down on a chair, suddenly in tears. "My name is Kitten," I said to myself, over and over, feeling lost and alone. *** Amy showed up around mid-morning and took me away. First, she drove me to the laser hair clinic, where I got all of my body hair lasered off. "Someday you?ll thank me,? she said. ?Over time, your hair will stop growing back.? Next, we went back to the salon to get my ears pierced. "We should have done it on your first salon visit," she said. "But there was already too much to do." They also did my hair and gave me another makeup lesson. I walked out with new 'beginner' diamond stud earrings (so sparkly! Amy enthused) and looking gorgeous. "Who's paying for all this?" I asked. "Don't worry," Amy replied. "I'll just add it to your debt." I felt a sinking feeling. How long was it going to take to pay off this debt? I wondered if I'd have to be Kirk's girlfriend forever. *** "It's nice of you to come over," I said, as Amy flipped on the kettle for some tea. "Kirk wants me to check in on you," she said. "At least for the first few months." "First few months? Really?" "Yes. To make sure that you're obeying the rules. How do you feel?" "Oh, fine. Everything's just so weird, you know? I mean, just a few days ago I was... Colin? And now I'm Kitten? And... I guess I'm supposed to be Kirk's girlfriend? It's just so surreal. As Colin, I used to have my own girlfriend. Several, actually. I mean, I wasn't ever actually turned off by men, one of my girlfriends wanted to have a threesome with me and another man, you know? And I was like, 'sure! sounds like fun!' But it seems to me like it's a long stretch to go from there to actually being someone's girlfriend, full time. Right? I mean... I can't... It just doesn't.... I paused, trying to figure it out. Something doesn't feel right, but I can't quite put my finger on it. I mean, I know that Kirk says that I'm supposed to love him, and I guess I do... but do I really? What is love? Do I really want to spend my life with this man?" "That's a lot to think about," Amy observed, placing a cup of tea in front of me. "I mean, I am grateful," I continued, ignoring my tea. "After all, without Kirk, I probably be on the street right now. But then that's another thing. Why am I so obsessed with him? Absolutely, he's amazing and I completely respect everything he's done in life. He's rich and successful and someone to emulate. But I've been so obsessed with him that I let my job suffer. I've been late to work, I messed up simple technical tasks, I forgot to do the backups, and that's so not like me. I've always prided myself on doing a job and doing it well." "Perhaps you were just in the wrong job?" Amy asked. "Drink some tea," she said, indicating my cup. "Maybe you're right," I said. "But I've always been so good at IT administration. It's been one of the few jobs that I really enjoyed. But then, for some reason, I just started becoming bad at it. It's like... something flipped in my brain and suddenly I couldn't do it anymore or I just wasn't focussed enough... I just started feeling so foggy all the time..." "Or maybe you just discovered that you'd rather be somewhere else in life," Amy reasoned. "That happens sometimes, you know. You think one thing is perfect for you, but then you discover other possibilities, and then what you previously were interested in... well those old things just don't interest you anymore. Drink your tea before it gets cold." "You mean like, once I discovered I could be Kirk's girlfriend then I was no longer interested in being a system administrator? I guess that could be true." I put the tea to my lips, but then put it down without drinking it. "But my problem focusing at work really started before I knew I could get a job with Kirk as his girlfriend and household caretaker. It started much earlier than that." "Drink your tea. But you've been feeling things for Kirk, haven't you, for a while now? You told me about how your nipples tingled and I know that means you want him to play with your breasts. That's a sure sign which all women get. And your lips, you said you felt like your lips were 'Cock Hungry', isn't that what you said? Which, as I can tell you, really means you want to be sucking men's cocks, most especially your boyfriend's cock. Women just get these feelings, these tingles, when they need things from their men. Like the itch in your bottom which tells you that you need to be fucked in the ass. All women feel these things when they are with the right man, and you told me you've been feeling these things for a while now, haven't you?" I picked up the tea, and just held it for a while, thinking. "I guess you're right, I have been feeling those things for a while. And you say that all women feel them?" "Oh, absolutely. I do, for Todd, all the time. And... can I tell you a secret? Sometimes I feel them for Kirk as well. I am so jealous of you, Kirk is a real catch. Lots of girls would give up their freedom to be owned by him. Drink your tea, Kitten." "Yes, I know, I'm a very lucky... girl, I guess." I took a sip of tea. "But Amy, something's not right. I go from maybe a little bi-curious to, what, locked in chastity and now I'm Kirk's girlfriend? Something must be wrong. That doesn't just happen." I took another sip of tea. "Maybe I need to go see a psychologist or a neurologist doctor or something...." I felt my head getting woozy. "What do you think, Amy? Say... what is in this tea...?" **blink** *** "I think it's a wonderful idea to come up with little mantras or sayings for how you can be a better girlfriend," Amy was saying. I was sitting at my writing desk. In front of me were several pictures of Kirk, looking as handsome and rugged (and super hot!!!!) as always, plus a notebook opened to the first page where I had written a few sentences. I love being Kirk's girlfriend. I had written. Being a pretty girl for Kirk feels so right. I love being a girl so much! Was another. I should tell Kirk how much I love him as much as possible!! That one had a little cloud of hearts drawn around it. I love to flirt, but only with Kirk! I only feel safe in Kirk's arms. "Now remember, you agreed to stare at each one and really concentrate on it," Amy said. "Make sure you read it over and over and commit it to memory. Make each saying a *part of you*." "Yes, Amy," I said, automatically. "Thank you." I fingered my earrings. The numbing agent was wearing off and they were starting to emit a dull, aching throb. Something about them made me feel so feminine and owned. I had gotten pierced... for Kirk. New holes had been punched into my body so I could wear pretty jewelry for my man. I am happy to do whatever is necessary to be pretty for Kirk. And I don't need to be clever, because Kirk is always right. "I don't know what else to say," I said, my pen frozen above the paper. "Maybe something about how you are always horny for Kirk's attention?" Amy suggested. "Ooh! That's a great idea!" I want Kirk to touch my body, as much as possible. I wrote, followed by: I like being groped by Kirk. It makes me feel complete as a woman. "That's my good girl," said Amy. "Now I'll leave you here to work on your mantras. I'll be back tomorrow to make sure you've done enough of them. Okay?" "Bye, Amy, thank you so much," I said. I gave Amy a couple of 'good bye' air kisses before showing her out. Then I returned to my writing desk and continued writing my mantras for Kirk. Maybe I should do some mantras about my career? How about... I don't need education any more. And... Taking care of the house is all of the fulfillment I need. That's interesting, I thought to myself. But it's absolutely true. I really don't need to be an IT administrator anymore. Not if all I'm going to be doing all day is taking care of Kirk and this gorgeous house of his. I love cleaning house. I wrote. I love taking care of Kirk. The mantras started coming quickly after that. My purpose in life is making Kirk happy and seeing to his every need. I'm only happy when Kirk is happy. Nothing is too slutty for Kirk. I want to be Kirk's slutty girlfriend. I feel so weak next to Kirk. I am so weak. I am a weak, little girl. I need a strong man to take care of me. Girls like me don't need to be clever. We just need to know how to take care of our men. I don't need to think. All I need to think about is Kirk and taking care of the house. I owe everything to Kirk. Kirk is my everything. I love Kirk and I always will. I am forever faithful and loyal to Kirk. I want to make Kirk's life happy and sexy. *** I stood nervously waiting for my man. I saw the headlights of his car coming up the driveway, so I knew he'd be entering the front door in a just a minute. I fidgeted in my scandalously short, pleated tartan skirt which barely covered my crotch. It was so high that the tops of my stockings were fully exposed, as well as some of the leg above. The stockings were "sandal toe", which meant that that they could be worn with my red, high heel sandals. My painted toenails looked so sexy peaking through the stockings. On top I was wearing a cotton camisole with spaghetti straps that was so short that my midriff was bare. It was tight and clingy so that my breast forms looked enormous, and the combination of the camisole straps and the bra straps looked especially sexy. And of course I had redone my makeup in a sluttier style, more red and a bit more overdone, thanks to some instructions that Amy had helpfully left for me. My hair was done up in a ponytail. "Hi Kirk!" I said, as he entered the door. "There's my Kitten," he said, in a low, horny voice. "Oh, how I've been looking forward to this all day long." Kirk pulled me into a long kiss, and I mewled happily as I felt his tongue thrust deep inside my mouth. "On your knees," he said, huskily. Without a thought, I dropped to my knees (I love sucking Kirk's cock, more than anything) and reached out to stroke his cock, which was already hard inside his trousers. "This is where you belong, isn't it, Kitten?" Kirk asked, stroking my hair. "Yes, Kirk, on my knees in front of you." I pressed my face against the bulge in his trousers, my cock hungry lips feeling desperate. "Go ahead." Trying to be as slutty as I could be, I undid Kirk's belt and unzipped his trousers (is there any better sound in the world than a zipper for a cock hungry slut like me?) and pulled out his penis. After a few soft strokes, I looked up, looking at Kirk with undisguised lust, and then wrapped my red lips around his shaft, sucking it as deep as I could, this hot, fleshy pole deep in my mouth, pressing against the back of my throat. After sucking him for a while, I nibbled and sucked on his balls, pulling each one into my mouth and humming, before returning to his dick. "Oh, yeah, that's it," Kirk groaned, grasping my head and thrusting his cock as deep as he could where it spurted, filling my mouth with his sperm. This is where I belong, I thought to myself, gently sucking Kirk's manhood as it jerked and spurt. Kirk gave out such satisfied sighs, his eyes closed, that I just fell more and more in love with him. Yes, this is my place in life, I realized. On my knees with Kirk's cock in my mouth. This is where I belong. At least I hope it is... *** Chapter 10: I Get New Breasts "Kirk's birthday's coming up," Amy informed me. "What are you going to get him?" It had been about a week since I was locked into chastity and Kirk brought me home to be his girlfriend-slash-house-keeper. I am a slut. I love being a slut. I want sex all the time. During that time, I had learned how to clean the house. This included laundry, dishes, vacuuming, dusting, windows, making the bed, putting away the laundry, ironing, and so on. It was a lot. A clean home is a happy home. And I had to do it all to Kirk's exacting standards. Everything had to be put away at all times. Nothing could be out of place when he got home. Laundry had to be dried on clothes lines out-doors, weather permitting, because Kirk liked the smell of outdoor iied laundry. Sheets had to be ironed so they were nice and crisp. All of his shirts had to be ironed before being hung up, so he could put one on at any time. Even his under vests had to be ironed! The house should be put together at all times. Further, all of the taps and door handles and other hardware had to be polished and shiny. Silverware used for dinner was actual silver, and had to be polished. Kirk depends upon me to make sure the house is perfect in every way. When I wasn't cleaning, I spent my time mostly working on my mantras and the scrapbook. The mantras where various sayings that would get me through the day. Just writing one down and saying it a few hundred times would make me feel calmer and more at ease. When I'm not cleaning, all I can think about is Kirk's cock and how much I want it. It was strange. I might start feeling edgy and just "off", but then a new mantra would pop into my head and I would rush to write it down in my notebook of mantras (I had filled twenty pages of mantras in just a week) and then as I repeated it in my head I would feel calmer and more at peace and more in love with Kirk. I love Kirk so much! After my pierced ears were fully healed, I received some dangly earrings from Kirk. I would feel them brushing against my neck as I walked around, cleaning. Sometimes I would rub my caged penis with the palm of my hand as I worked on my mantras. I love to suck on Kirk's cock so much. My lips get cock hungry just thinking about it. The mantras would make certain that I stayed horny and excited until Kirk got home. Ready and able and yes, desperate, to be fucked by him, either in my mouth or from behind. My arse is perfectly designed to get fucked by Kirk. And, of course, I would make sure my bottom was well lubricated when he got home, and at various times during the evening, "just in case". Also, there was lubricant laying around in all of the rooms. Like in the kitchen, where one evening, I was minding my own business, doing dishes and he just lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties, probed a couple of times and then thrust his cock up my bum. Getting fucked by Kirk is my highest ambition in life. And so I spent my days in a kind of trance-y fog. Writing down and saying mantras. Cleaning house. Praising Kirk. Working on my scrapbook. Thinking of Kirk, desperate for Kirk, wanting Kirk to take advantage of me and counting the minutes until he got home. I love to be held in Kirk's strong, manly arms. I am his girl, heart and soul. Amy had come to visit and we were chatting at the breakfast table in the kitchen. Amy was boiling water to make me a cup of her special tea. "What can I possibly get him?" I fretted. "I don't have any money." "You can always borrow money and just add it to your debt." "But... but..." that was the last thing I wanted. Already it was going to take me over a year to pay off the debt, and that was assuming Kirk had sold my car and my other belongings and got reasonably good prices for them. I looked around at the expensive kitchen cabinets and marble countertops. This was going to be my prison for a whole year! Dressing up as Kirk's girlfriend every day, giving him oral sex... every day. Cleaning house... every day... doing dishes... "What was that?" I asked. "I said, how about giving Kirk a nice pair of breasts?" "Breasts?" I asked, shocked. "What... seriously? You can't possibly mean... Wait, what do you mean? Breasts other than these?" I gestured to my breast forms. "Yes, silly girl, real ones. Or at least ls. That way, Kirk can grasp your breasts and you can feel it. It will be his hands on your bare breast flesh. Won't that be nice? So much more intimate that way." Amy set a cup of tea in front of me. I took a sip. It had that strange bitter taste I remembered from tea at her place. It must be some kind of special blend that she liked. I shook my head, a firm no. "No way, Amy," I said, brooking no argument. "Not only is there's no way I could afford it--" "It's only around six thousand pounds. We could add it to your debt. No big deal." "Six thousand... !" I stared at her, shocked. How could she say that was No Big Deal! I did a quick calculation as to how long 6 thousand pounds would increase my servitude as Kirk's girlfriend and shuddered. "Amy! No! I won't. I just won't. I draw the line at permanent changes," I said, glad I had finally laid down some firm boundaries. "It's not permanent," Amy argued. "You can always have them removed." "No! No surgery! Amy, please. They?re just not... hey, what's in this tea?" **blink** *** "I'm so glad you changed your mind and decided to have breast augmentation surgery," Amy said. Suddenly I found myself in my bedroom, sitting at the writing desk. I had a pen in my hand. I was writing in a brand new notebook. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. This was clearly a new mantra, but it wasn't just written a single time, it was written 25 times, all lined up nice and neat. I looked closely at the notebook, and saw that, at the top of the page, it said "Naughty Kitten's Punishment Notebook". Like a disobedient 11 year old schoolgirl, I was writing lines. Without thinking, I went and wrote another line. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. And as I wrote the words, I said them to myself. I wrote another line. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. I said the words in my head as I wrote them, and as I said them, they seemed to come from someplace inside of me. It wasn't just a line that I was writing. It was something I was expressing. Something important. Something deep. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. "That's my good girl, Kitten," Amy said, stroking my back. "Thank you for apologizing for talking back to me just now and for asking for your punishment." Punishment? I looked down at my lines. Oh, of course. I'm being punished by writing lines. I wrote another line, trying to be careful with my penmanship. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. "Of course, I've told Kirk of your misbehavior and you can expect a spanking from him when he gets home." My heart sank. I have disappointed my best friend Amy, and my boyfriend! I felt terrible. "I'm so sorry," I said, humbly. "Can you ever forgive me?" "Of course, sweetie," Amy said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Once you've got your new breasts, all will be forgiven. Now, I'll be back tomorrow to take you to your doctor's pre-op visit. It looks like he has an opening, so you should be have nice new breasts by this time next week!" "Oh, that's wonderful!" I said, relief flowing through me. "Imagine me, with nice big new breasts!" I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. "I know it's been something you've been dreaming about, every since you were little. And now, thanks to Kirk, you can finally get them. And don't worry about the cost, it'll go onto your debt and you can pay it off later." "H-h-how much are they?" I asked. "They turned out to be a little more than I expected. I wanted to make sure you got a really good doctor so that they'll turn out as beautiful as you are." "How much?" I asked, quavering. "Keep writing your lines," Amy said. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. Just writing the words made me feel calmer and safer. Amy would take care of me. Amy and Kirk. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk._ "They'll cost around fifteen thousand pounds," said Amy. "Fifteen..." I gasped. "Keep writing!" I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. I wrote, hearing the words echo in my head. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. I want a nice big pair of breasts, I thought to myself. I really do want a nice big pair of breasts. Who cares about the expense? If I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend, Kirk, then shouldn't I be able to get a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk? "The doctor said it was unlikely that you could get to your desired bust size with a single surgery," Justine explained. "'Extra Large' breasts like Kirk wants will probably require multiple surgeries of increasing size." "Oh," I said, feeling confused. When had I agreed to have breast augmentation? And when had I agreed to 'extra large?' Was this something that I could change? "I guess that makes sense." "Keep writing," Amy said, pointing to the paper. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. Amy gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Your punishment for arguing with me is to write this 250 times," she said. "And when that is done, I want you to write 'I've wanted big breasts my whole life,' 250 times. And then write 'Big new breasts will complete me', also 250 times." Amy watched me for a while, as I diligently wrote down my lines. "That should take you about six hours. Pay attention to your handwriting. You should work on developing a nice and feminine style for your letters. When you're done, it should be time for you to change for Kirk. I've picked you out something nice and slutty which is hanging up in your closet." "Thank you, Amy," I say, looking at her, grateful for all her help. Amy is such a good friend. I am so lucky to have her helpful advice! "Now look in your dressing table drawer. The one on the left," she says. I open the drawer to discover a small, rubber vibrator. "That's a little gift from Kirk to keep you interested," Amy said. "He wants you to be nice and horny, but because you're locked, you can never cum. You'll always be just on the edge of release, always in a horny daze, but never able to completely push yourself over. The only pleasure you'll be able to get is when Kirk fucks you in the bum, and even then you won't be able to orgasm, you'll just feel a satisfied flowing. Always on the edge and never able to cum. Isn't that delicious?" I look at Amy, feeling my The Tingle in my nipples and the Needy Itch in my arse and my Cock Hungry Lips all at the same time. I take out the vibrator and turn it on low. The hum in my hand enters my body and instantly my lust is multiplied. "Place it on your cock cage," she instructs. As I do, I feel the vibrations exciting me, but because I can't get hard in the cage, all I can do is squirm and pant. "That's my good girl," Amy says. "Remember, Good Girls edge their minds away. Now remember to always edge yourself when working on your mantras." "Yes Amy," I gasp. With a lust fogged brain I return to writing my lines. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. Amy let herself out of the bedroom. The vibrator hummed, bringing me to the edge again, but never over. I want a nice big pair of breasts for my boyfriend Kirk. I wrote. Over and over, the lines entering into my defenseless, fogged, lust-filled brain. *** After my first surgery, I ended up with C-cup breasts. For the first week of my recovery, I stayed in Amy and Todd's guest bedroom, so that Amy could take care of me. (Kirk didn't want to be bothered). "Where's Todd?" I asked, looking around. I was sitting in bed, writing in my punishment notebook. This time I was writing, 'I love my new breasts! I'm so glad I got them!' over and over, 2500 times. "He's on a long business trip," Amy said. "Really? Where?" "Oh, ah... Sydney. Australia. Yeah, that's right. Sydney." "I hope he's okay. It must be terrible for you that he's away," I said. "Oh, certainly," Amy said. But for some reason it didn't sound like she was really that sad that Todd was away. "Now Kitten, where is your vibrator? You need to continue your lines." "Yes, Amy," I said, looking ashamed. I love my breasts! I'm so glad I got them! Later that day I started on a new set of lines. Good girls don't think. Good girls obey. Good girls edge their minds away. The vibrator continued its evil work on my brain, always bringing me to the edge but never over. I felt my will slipping away. Good girls don't think. So much easier to just let it happen. Don't worry about anything. Just... stop thinking or worrying. Good girls obey. Let Kirk and Amy take care of me. Just follow their instructions. Just be a good girl, a good Kitten, and just do what they tell me to do. Good girls edge their minds away. So horny.... so close.... so close!! Oh... but... so close. Good girls.... edge our minds away.... no need to think... just obey... and be a good Kitten for my boyfriend Kirk.... *** Chapter 11: The Party I keep myself pretty for Kirk's enjoyment. The mantra repeated itself in my head as I sat at my dressing table, putting on my makeup. The thing about mantras is that, once you've said one a few thousand times, it becomes impossible to get it out of your head. They keep coming back, over and over, whenever your mind is idle. They become your "default resting thoughts", which replay over and over, changing you, little by little. I stopped to look at myself in the mirror, pleased with the result. The surgeon had done an amazing job, and now that everything was finally healed and no longer swollen, I could appreciate how beautiful my female face had become. I don't need to be anything but to be the best possible girlfriend for Kirk. Kirk was so wonderful about the surgeries. He was the best boyfriend ever! Kirk is the best boyfriend a girl could have. He's such a man. Kirk often attended my meetings with the surgeon and even chose most of the surgeries for me, often writing out detailed instructions for the surgeon. He was so thoughtful! And now, after liposuction, another breast enlargement, and multiple facial surgeries, he finally pronounced me "complete". All I want in life is to be Kirk's vision of a perfect girl. And the result, I had to admit, was unbelievable. I was the most feminine creature that I could imagine. Kirk's perfect bimbo. My eyes were wide and vulnerable. My lips were large and soft and pouty and perfect for sucking, like two soft pillows waiting to be wrapped around a hard cock. Kirk's hard penis. My cheekbones were high and my nose was perky. And with makeup, I looked like a fashion model. Or porn star. I must wear makeup at all times. My makeup must be perfect for Kirk. And my body! Oh my God. My breasts were so large. Super extra large, I had to be careful when I walked, the weight was so much. I had to get all new bras and tops, and even then they were stretched to the limits. Good girls get big breasts for their boyfriends' pleasure. And how Kirk loved my big tits! I took enormous numbers of pictures of them in all sorts of poses and costumes so he could have them on his phone to view and show others. He says he browses them in boring meetings and I believe him. Whenever we're together he can't stop playing with them, groping them and pinching my nipples (which I love) and licking them and sucking on them. They are so much better than the breast forms I wore when we first met. Now, when I get "The Tingles", I can count on Kirk to pinch and suck on my nipples to give me some relief. But that's not all that's changed. The higher the heel the more beautiful the girl. I had never heard of Cinderella surgery until my surgeon brought it up. Of course, Kirk loved the idea. I can't refuse Kirk anything. And I don't want to! And so they reshaped my foot to make it smaller and fit better into high heels. And it worked! I wear high heels exclusively now, even when just cleaning up around the house. My feet are permanently arched. I couldn't remember the last time I walked in flats. My heels are now never closer than 3 or 4 inches from the ground whenever I'm not in the shower. And I love them. It doesn't matter what I love. What matters is what Kirk loves. And what else? Liposuction reduced my waist size. And I got hip and bum implants. I'm now much more of an hourglass figure with a huge arse. With my big tits and curvy bottom and wide eyes and pouty lips... I was one, hot-looking bimbo slut. Kirk's bimbo slut. Being a bimbo is not at all bad! It just means I've devoted my life to Kirk, body and soul, and he deserves it! "Ready to go?" I heard from behind me. I quickly touched up my hair with the hair brush and packed away a few makeup items into my clutch-purse. "Yes, Kirk," I said, demurely batting my eyes. "Zip me up?" I asked. "Of course, darling," he said. I stood and turned my back to him. He couldn't resist fondling my bottom and groping my breasts, which made me swoon with desire. "Kirk?" I said, gently reminding him of the time. "Oh, very well," he said, finally grasping the zipper and slowly.... slowly... zipping it up. I was wearing a burgundy red velvet, strapless cocktail dress. It was so tight it hugged every curve. My breasts were practically spilling out of the top showing whole valleys of luscious cleavage. And it was short. So short! It barely reached below my crotch. I had to keep pulling it down as I walked. This would be the first time I'd be out in public with Kirk, and I wanted it to be perfect. We would be going to his annual Christmas party, which Kirk gives every year the week before Christmas for all of his clients and staff. In the limousine on our way to the party Kirk gave me last minute instructions as I wrapped my big, porn-star cock-sucking lips around his hard member and started to lose myself in a mental fog of pleasure for my Cock Hungry Lips. I love receiving instructions from Kirk. Kirk is always right. "Now remember," he said, "you are only allowed to talk about me and how wonderful I am and how much you love me. If someone asks you a question about any other subject, you just tell them that you don't know anything about it, or that you're not clever enough to have an opinion. If someone asks you a personal question, you tell them that you grew up in Manchester and that your life was nothing until you met me. You have a college degree in Communications, the sort of degree, like Manchester, which is something no one would ever ask for more details about. And stay by my side and look at me adoringly like you do as much as possible. Got it, Kitten?" "Yes, Kirk," I said, returning my lips to his cock. "That's my Kitten," he sighed, grasping my head and forcing his cock down my throat. I didn't even gag this time, Kirk has trained me so well. Fortunately he was so horny that he shot a nice big load into my mouth which I could swirl around with my tongue (and show him) all the way to the party. *** The Christmas party was as boring as expected. What shocked me was how many men thought it was perfectly OK to put their hands on my body! I'm Kirk's girlfriend! Okay, I could, possibly understand how his clients might feel they had the privilege. But not his staff! All night long I felt people feeling up my ass, or pinching the inside of my leg. One manky arsehole even ran a hand up my legs and underneath my skirt before I shrieked and batted his hand away. The nerve of them! Don't they know that I am Kirk's exclusive property! The stares and attention of other men just makes me that much more desirable for Kirk. And while the women didn't touch me, they were horrible in other ways. Didn't they realize I could hear them as they were calling me all of those awful names? Two women, wives of Kirk's business colleagues, were especially nasty, dissecting my body and calling me a gold digging whore, a skanky cunt, a dumb-titty-ass, and a fake boob bimbo bitch. When people call me names, I realize how important Kirk is to me. I just ran through my mantras in my head and clung tighter to Kirk's arm, looking up at him adoringly as he explained off-shore tax shelters to one of his clients and how moving to Australia for 5 years might be a good idea. After the party was over, Kirk took me up to his office, where he had set up a fancy Canon SLR camera with a remote control on a tripod. Thrusting me over his desk (causing my cock cage, just as locked as ever, to bang loudly against the desk) he pulled out some lubricant from the side drawer, lubed up his cock and thrust it into my bottom. I grunted and looked into space with heavy-lidded lust as he fucked me, the camera taking picture after picture of him violating my bum with his massive cock, over his massive, hard-wood executive desk. *** Chapter 12: I learn to always say 'Yes' I spent the next several months by Kirk's side as his adoring, attentive girlfriend. We went to all sorts of dinners, parties, and charity events together. He loved to show me off as his hot, horny girlfriend. The girl who could only say the most complementary and affectionate things about her boyfriend, who thought he was the most amazing person in the world and the most amazing person to be with. Kirk is my everything. I love him and want to be with him always. He even started taking me on his business trips, a lot of them to California where many of his companies were headquartered or were moving. Of course I would take care of all of the details as his most personal assistant, packing, planning the trip, reserving the hotel and the limousine, all to make Kirk's trips as smooth and as stress free as possible. Kirk's life should be made as relaxing and as beautiful as possible. And I always made sure to schedule some 'down time' for the two of us to be together, just boyfriend and girlfriend. During these times, I would dress casually, but always as revealing and girly as I dared. I would wear sheer shirts which showed my (now enhanced) nipples, or tight, short skirts that hugged my bottom and practically begged for Kirk to run his hand between them. My body should be available to Kirk at all times. And boy, would he take advantage! In cabs, on the beach, in a museum, almost anywhere Kirk felt free to run his hands over my body. Sometimes I would feel his hand on my bottom, squeezing it, making me horny and causing The Needy Itch to flare up and me to look at him with desperate eyes -- desperate for his cock in my bottom. If we had more privacy he would get bolder. He might reach under my skirts and pull down my panties to my knees and then flick my (caged) penis with a fingernail or run his hand up the crack in my bottom. If he felt really bold, he would have me bare my breasts for him, so he could play with them and pinch the nipples, or he might push me to my knees where I would have to suck his cock. Nothing is off limits to Kirk. I am grateful for his every touch and caress. And cleavage! So much cleavage. Now that I had my fully grown, DDD breasts, I had to make sure that my tits and cleavage were on display. This meant sheer shirts showing my fat nipples and aureole, clingy bodysuits which curved around my breasts and looked, basically, like they were painted on, blouses with deep-V necklines, tube-tops which were stretched to the limit, T-shirts with bare midriffs that were always one size too small. Nothing was too slutty or revealing for Kirk when we were alone together or on casual outings. I love being Kirk's dress-up slut bunny. It was so much worse during warm weather. Small bikinis, my large tits threatening to pop out, short shorts riding up my ass, clingy one-pieces, clothing which was so small I could ball it up and hold it in the palm of my hand. Keeping my caged member hidden was a constant challenge. Kirk would only unlock me when I needed to clean it, about once a fortnight, and only under careful supervision so I wouldn't "cheat on him", as he called it. After a couple months, I was gifted an even smaller one, "the nub", which helped with my clothing a bit. But generally, I had to be careful. Flared skirts were my best friend. During the summer, cover-ups, wraps, towels, skirted bottoms, that sort of thing. I found if I wore a tight thong, I could wear skin-tight pencil skirts or body-con dresses... but I had to be careful how I sat and walked. It was a constant worry. Any struggle to look beautiful and slutty for Kirk is my pleasure. I begged Kirk several times to let me free, but he ignored me. "I like you locked," he said, simply. "Because when you're locked, I own you." I love being owned by Kirk. It is my pleasure to be locked to him. *** "How's my slut bimbo?" Kirk whispered in my ear. "Oh, my darling," I replied, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'm wonderful as long as I'm with you." "That's my Kitten," Kirk said, returning my kiss with one of his own, his tongue thrust deep into my mouth. We were seated at a formal dinner celebrating his largest completed merger to date. A tech firm from California purchased a London financial services IT firm with deep ties into the European trading markets for an astounding sum of 2.4 billion pounds. Everyone was wearing formal dinner wear. The men were in tuxes, black bow ties and white shirts, the women in long, fashionable gowns. My dress for business functions, was, of course, entirely different than it was for casual dates or slutty alone-time with Kirk. For business, he wanted me wearing classic and fashionable. For this dinner, I was wearing a long white gown by Stella McCartney. It had a wide collar which fit snug around my neck. The halter-top bodice was attached in front and slanted down from the collar to my waist leaving my tanned shoulders and back bare. The bodice was roomy enough that my enormous chest, while very much on display, was still appropriate for a business function. The skirts were long and draped elegantly around my legs, ending in gorgeous diagonal cuts. I almost fainted from pleasure when Amy and I found it at the McCartney boutique, it was so beautiful. I was nervous about getting such an expensive dress, but Amy assured me that the instructions from Kirk had been very clear. Like all of my clothes, the cost of the dress was added to my overall debt. At some point, after all of the surgeries and other purchases, little presents for Kirk, clothes, makeup, visits to the salon... at some point I just started to ignore the cost. I knew that I would be stuck working for Kirk for years and years before the debts were paid off, if ever. Afterwards, still giddy, and also with a new purse and some new earrings, we stopped at Amy's place for some of her special tea. "Is Todd still not back from his business trip?" I asked, looking around. The place had a distinct 'single woman lives here' feeling. Amy had gotten a cat. There were piles of papers and dirty cups of tea everywhere. "Oh, he's setting up a new branch of the business in California," Amy said with a vague air. "Lots of lonely rich nerds in California who need our dating services," she said. "I guess. But it must be terrible being all alone." "I keep busy," Amy said, pouring the tea. "Now Kitten, I wanted to ask you, what is the most important, most loving, most grateful, most respectful word you can ever say to Kirk?" "Uh... love?" I asked. "Thanks?" "No... think again." I thought hard, but nothing was coming to me. "Horny?" Amy laughed, but then turned serious. "The word is 'yes'." "Ohhhh..." "That's right, Kitten, I think you understand. 'Yes,' is the most important word you can say to Kirk. It is the word you *must* say to him, all the time, without fail. You must *always* be agreeable to anything he wants, at any time. Do you understand? You must never say 'no' to Kirk. You must *always* say 'yes'." "I understand, Amy." I took a sip of tea. "Now let's practice. Suppose Kirk says, 'Come here Kitten and suck my cock,' you would say." "Yes, Kirk, of course I would love to suck your cock. Oh, Amy, that's an easy one." "What if he wants you to get a tattoo which says 'I am a sissy slut, I belong to Kirk.'" "Y-yes," I said, with a bit of a stammer. "Yes, Kirk, I would be happy to get a tattoo for you." "Kitten, would you get a permanent nose ring?" Amy said, role-playing as Kirk. "Yes, Kirk. What kind of ring would you like me to get?" "Kitten, would you let me put a dog collar on you and then lead you through Paddington Station, naked, at rush hour on a leash while wearing your highest heels?" "Uh..." "Remember your most important word, Kitten," Amy admonished me. "Yes," I said. "Yes, Kirk, I will be happy to put on a dog collar and let you lead me around, Oh God, Amy... Paddington station at rush hour... naked." Amy smiled. "And now for a hard one, Kitten. What if Kirk says: 'Would you call your mother and tell her you've decided to become a girl full time because you love sucking cock and getting fucked in the arse so much?" "Y-y-y..." I paused and took a slow, deep breath. "I.... um... Oh, God, Amy... I can't. I just..." "Shhh... drink some tea, Kitten." I reached for my cup and took another sip. **blink** *** "Very good, Kitten, I'm glad you've reconsidered. Now what is your most important word?" I looked around, we were still in Amy's kitchen. What just happened? The light outside looked more slanted than before. Was it later in the day? "It's 'yes'," I said. "I must say 'yes' to anything that Kirk wants." "That's my girl. And if he wants you to call your family and all your past girlfriends, and the blokes you knew when you were a boy and tell them that you're a cock sucking sissy slut?" "Yes," I said, automatically. I smiled up at Amy, feeling a blissful release. It was so easy to just say 'yes' to everything. I didn't have to think at all. Just say 'yes', like any dumb bimbo would say. Just say 'yes'. *** Kirk stood up at the table and tapped on his wine glass for quiet. All of the fancy dress business executives and their gorgeously gowned wives looked up expectantly. Here was the architect of the deal, Kirk, who first brought these two companies together, made them see the value inherent in their combination, and then navigated a multitude of legal, financial and personal obstacles to make it a reality. It was his triumph. "I have an announcement to make," Kirk said, smiling. "And this is a bigger announcement, to me, than the one that hit the business wire..." Kirk consulted his watch, "just ten minutes ago!" There were congratulations and glasses clinking all around. But then there were shushes and people hushing each other so they could all hear Kirk's new announcement. "It's takeover merger," Kirk said. "One which nobody knows about. I have been working on it for nearly a year and now it can be finally announced to the world, and you will all be the first to hear about it." What was it? everyone wondered. What could it be? "Kitten?" Kirk turned to me, pulling out a small box from his jacket pocket. "Will you marry me?" I stared at Kirk, astonished. This was the last thing I expected. I'm just his girlfriend! Just his housekeeper! Now... he wants me to be his... wife? Some un-intelligible sounds came out of my mouth. I was hyperventilating. I don't want to be Kirk's wife! I don't want to get married to him. To make our arrangement permanent? Irrevocable? Everyone is staring at me! What do I do? "Kitten," Kirk continued, completely ignoring my distress, "We've known each other for less than a year, but ever since I first set eyes on you on, I knew that I wanted you to be mine... and all mine. I swore then that I would *never* let you go. That I would find some way to join your life to mine, forever. Permanently. You are the most beautiful, devoted, faithful, and loyal woman any man could ever be lucky enough to have and to own, and would you do me the honor of making it forever? Will you be my wife?" Good girls don't think. A hush fell over the crowd. I looked at Kirk and knew that there was only one thing I could do or say. Good good girls obey. Oddly, at this most inappropriate time, I felt myself get horny. Good girls edge their minds away. My Cock Hungry Mouth started to hunger for Kirk's manhood. My anus felt the Needy Itch for his slippery penetration. My nipples begged with The Tingles to be pinched and played with. Good girls always say... "Yes," I said. "Yes, Kirk, I would be honored and grateful to be your wife." And as the audience went wild with applause, I burst into racking sobs. Tears of happiness....? I hoped. *** Chapter 13: The Wedding The next couple of months were something of a whirlwind. First, Kirk and I had to tell everyone, and that started with his family. And so, I got to meet his parents who were both in their 80's and absolutely charming. They were both immensely proud of their son and how well he had done for himself. And then I got to meet Kirk's older sister, Penelope, who I immediately invited to be a member of the wedding party. And then we got invited to a general family party where I was introduced to various aunts, uncles and cousins. I would joining entering a large and supportive family, that was clear! And then the wedding plans began. During this time, Kirk changed my dress code, at least in public. Gone were the slutty, low-cut tops and the too-short and too-tight skirts. Gone was the teased "big" hair and the over-done makeup with the hot red lips begging (literally) to suck his cock. In their place was anything from the Kate Middleton collection. Nipped in waists, flowy skirts just below the knee, feminine flower prints or beautiful, feminine solids, three inch heels (not the 4 or 5 inch I had been wearing!), tastefully done makeup. Shirt dresses, A-lines. Pantyhose. And sleeves! I got to wear dresses with sleeves! All different lengths, but suddenly, Kirk wanted me to cover up my shoulders. At least for now. Now that I was his fianc?. Also, now that I had 'upgraded to fianc?', I noticed my relationship with Kirk was changing. We were more like girlfriend/boyfriend rather than servant/master. We might spend hours just snuggling on the sofa watching something on Netflix, followed by a long and slow makeout session of deep snogging. And then I would drop to my knees and take his cock in my mouth, but, you know, as a horny girlfriend and not so much as a cock-hungry, brainless bimbo slut. But then, of course, he would flip me over and fuck my bottom, and the pleasure would be so intense and my approaching orgasm would be so close (but never quite over the edge) that my mind would just about disappear in a haze of girly horniness. Good girls edge their minds away. And so wedding preparations continued. The wedding itself was scheduled for a local church, and the reception would be held at Kirk's house, with a massive tent set up in the back yard and no expense spared on the food and entertainment. We would have a brass quintet, a string quartet, a rock band and a jazz band - all live. The flower budget alone would have been a year's salary for the prior me. *** There were also some less enjoyable tasks. Kirk demanded that I break off all contact with my family. Good girls don't think. Good girls always say 'yes'. That meant writing about a half-dozen letters telling them that I had gone to America to find a new job, and that I would be moving around a lot while getting settled and that I probably wouldn't be calling for a while. I mailed the letters to one of Kirk's lawyers in California, who would send them to my family randomly throughout the year. I knew my family. They wouldn't suspect a thing. And they wouldn't bother to come looking for me. Kirk's family and friends are all of the family and friends that I need. It felt strange to feel so isolated and so totally dependent on Kirk and his goodwill. Kirk only wants what's best for me. I can trust Kirk with my life. I doubled my efforts to make sure Kirk was happy and fully satisfied with me. Making Kirk satisfied is my goal in life. It gives me purpose. He seemed to appreciate it more and more as the days slipped by and the wedding came ever closer and closer. I did my best to make sure I was everything he wanted. My only worth in life is being the best possible fianc? for Kirk. Finally, there were two more tasks. Kirk and his lawyers had me sign a Deed Poll to legally change my name to "Kitten," with no last name. No longer would I be "Jacobsen". That name was forever expunged. It felt like I was cutting off my history and casting it aside. Like I had cut off my family. The only thing I need in the world is Kirk. He is my one and only. The Deed Poll was a legal commitment, and it's requirements were stark. I would now be required, by law to: * Abandon entirely the use of my former name; * Use my new name only at all times; * Require all persons to only ever address me by my new name I was now Kitten, and I would only ever be Kitten, and I could never again use my old name (and no one else could either). If anyone ever called me by my old name (I don't know who that could be, since I had no contact with anyone from my former life), I would be legally required to tell them to call me "Kitten". Legally required. Kirk had named me, and now it would be my name, officially, permanently, and legally binding. Finally, Kirk and his lawyers arranged for me to officially change my gender from Male to Female. This meant gathering evidence from doctors that I had gender dysphoria, which, considering I've been Kirk's personal cock sucking, anal sex bimbo slut for nearly a year now, was pretty obvious. We had to bend the rules a bit for the 'living as a woman for two years' requirement. The GRP (Gender Recognition Panel) did say they would make exceptions for 'unusual circumstances', which I supposed that becoming the rich wife of a rich supporter of the local political party qualified. And then finally I had to sign a certificate stating that I was committed, fully and irrevocably, to living my life as female, my 'true gender', from now and forever until death, and that this commitment was irrevocable and that I could never change my mind. Good girls say yes. And, of course, I signed, because it's what Kirk wanted, and I always do what Kirk tells me to do. Good girls obey. There were a few final questions, but once I had a meeting in front of the panel and they saw how I carried myself as a woman, I was approved. This meant I walked out of the meeting as "Kitten" with my new Birth Certificate which contained my new name and new gender. I am Kitten for Kirk. My name is Kitten and I am Kirk's woman. Now and forever. *** "Colin?" It was finally the day of the wedding! I was alone in a side chamber practicing my vows one last time (we had decided to memorize some special, private vows for each other). I had asked for a moment alone from all of the attendants so I could collect myself. The dress I was wearing was a gorgeous and romantic white Marchesa wedding dress, covered with lace with pearls and Swarovski crystals. It contained a tight under-bodice with a flowing princess-gown over top and a sweetheart neckline. I almost fainted when Amy showed it to me, it was so beautiful! I combined it with a pair of beautiful satin and wedding gloves with lace and pearl trim and a pair of 4-inch stiletto heels in a gorgeous silver flower pattern on white brocade. "Colin?" Underneath, I was wearing wedding lingerie, wrapped like a gift for Kirk. This included silk knickers with delicate light pink bows and a white lace, strapless corselette, just a bit too small, which hugged my waist and held up my breasts as if on a shelf, for everyone to admire. Attached to the corsellete by suspenders were my white, wedding stockings, done with a beautiful and intricate white and silver embroidery pattern of flowers and leaves and trimmed with bows. And around my neck was a silk ribbon, to which a locket containing a picture of Kirk was attached. It was my 'collar', a symbol of my obedience and subservience to Kirk. Finally I was given two new devices to wear. The first was a new butt jewel, essentially a silver butt plug with a gold jewel in the base that would peak out from my bottom as an ornament for Kirk when he unwrapped me. It was larger and heavier than ones I had worn earlier. I felt it in my bottom, moving around, as I walked, pressing against my prostate, making me horny with The Needy Itch. And finally, I had a new, sparkly pink, wedding cock cage. It was plastic, like the one from before, but thicker with a strange raised ring that went around the head of my little penis (now quite small) and along the length. It was locked, of course, and Kirk had the key. "Colin? Is that you?" I looked up to see a tall, gaunt-looking man with a beard looking at me. I could hear the last strains of the Handel's Wedding Anthem, "Sing Unto God" that Kirk had chosen for the wedding party processional start to fade away. "I'm sorry," I said. "I have no idea who you are, but, as you can see, I have a wedding to attend to." My only goal is to get married to Kirk. To become his, forever. "Colin? It's Todd." "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know any Colin. My name is Kitten..." My name is Kitten. I love my new name, because Kirk gave it to me. I looked at him for a second. Did he say his name was... Todd? "Todd!" I gasped, holding my hand over my mouth. "It *is* you! That's amazing! Are you finally back from California? I'm getting married to Kirk today! Oh, I'm so glad you could make it!" "Pineapple ladybug." I twitched, as if struck by an assassin's bullet. "Wh-what was that?" I whispered, feeling a spear of dread run through me. "Pineapple ladybug," Todd said. "Noooo!" I wailed, stumbling backwards, tripping over my dress and falling flat on my bottom. It was like I had been holding my breath in a warm bath, and someone had just instantly drained all of the water away. I surfaced from this warm fuzzy place and into the cold sunlight, seeing my life clearly for the first time in a year. "Oh My God," I gasped, horrified. "Oh God... Oh My Dear God..." "You understand now, don't you?" "Todd, where have you been? Why... why are you doing this?" I felt tears dripping down my cheeks. Where had they come from? "I ran away," Todd said. "I came to regret what Amy and I had done to you. But then Amy..." "Amy? You mean... my maid of honor?" Todd grimaced. "Yes, Amy. She's gone too far. She's become... obsessed. I've left her and went to the police. She's being investigated for illegal drug use and human trafficking." "Oh my God... the tea..." Suddenly it all made sense. "But... but I thought that... that hypnosis? That hypnosis couldn't make you do something you didn't want to do?" I asked, reaching desperately for straws of truth. "That's just an old folk tale," Todd snorted. "It's not really true. Turns out, it's quite easy to make people do things they wouldn't normally do. You just need to propose it in the right way, and the drugs make it easier. Much easier." "But how do I know..." I began weeping openly now. "But how do I know... what part of me is me and what part of me is... what Amy made me do?" Todd helped me up and gave me a tissue. "I don't know, Colin. Listen, if you want to change back, all you have to do is say 'Grapefruit Butterfly', and all of Amy's modifications will be re-instated." "Does Kirk know?" I asked, now scared out of my wits. "No, he doesn't know," Todd assured me. "As far as Kirk knows, this is all what you've always wanted, and Amy is just acting as a counselor. Oh, he knows that you've been hypnotized, but just using standard, approved, psychiatric techniques that you agreed to. Not what Amy's really been doing." "Please stop," I begged. "Stop talking, Todd!" "Colin! We need to get you away from here! Don't you realize? I need to take you to the police so you can make a full statement--" "Get away from me! STOP TELLING ME THIS!" I shouted violently shoving Kirk to the side and running out of the room. "What's the matter?" I saw Amy rushing towards me, in her maid-of-honor dress. "Oh Kitten, honey! Everyone's waiting for you. We heard you shouting. What's happened?" "Get the FUCK away from me," I growled, pulling back and slapping her hard in the face. Amy froze for a second, shocked. "Now, Kitten," she said, trying to be reasonable. "Remember your mantras. 'Good girls obey--'" "FUCK THAT," I spat out pushing her aside. "I know you've been drugging my tea." "Now, Kitten, I don't know who told you that but it's not true--" Amy reached out and grasped my wrist, HARD. I struggled to escape, slapping and scratching and fighting, trying to both get away and to inflict as much damage as possible, against Amy who was trying to drag me into the main sanctuary where, God knows what she was thinking, that perhaps I would 'come to my senses' seeing everyone in the audience looking at me? "I never want to see you again, do you hear me? Get out! Now!" I shouted, not caring who would hear. We scuffled some more. "Kitten?" It was a second voice. We both looked up to see Kirk's sister, Penelope. "What's the matter?" "I just found out, that Amy... LET THE FUCK GO OF ME! Who I thought was my friend..." I burst into sobs. "I think you should go," Penelope said to Amy, sensing immediately what was wrong. But Amy wouldn't go, and in fact tried to grasp my arm again (maybe to drag me outside? I don't know), so Penelope, bless her heart, my professional- tennis playing friend of my supposed boyfriend... grasped Amy's arm, twisted it behind her back, and literally frog-marched her out the side door, Amy's heels scraping and scratching over the floor as she frantically tried to escape, before returning to me where I was sobbing on a chair. "Are ye' lassies alright there?" "Hey Dad," Penelope said. "Could you tell everyone that the bride needs a few moments?" "Certainly. Everything alright?" Penelope looked at me and looked back and then up at Mr. Damien, Kirk's father. "Y-y-yes," I said, uncertainly. "She found out something about Amy." "THAT EVIL *BITCH*," I said under my breath. "Oh! Well, goodness! Uh, so I guess Penelope's the maid of honor now?" asked Mr. Damien. "Well, okay then! I'll tell everyone you need a few moments. Take your time dear. Take all the time you need and don't worry about us." I heard Mr. Damien go out into the sanctuary and explain things. "We can cancel the whole thing," Penelope says to me, gently. "If you're not up for it. I don't know what happened between you and Amy, but we can cancel the whole thing." But just the thought of cancelling it, with Kirk and his entire family and all of his colleagues out there, everyone waiting for me to enter, something about that just made me burst into fresh sobs. "Or not," Penelope said. "I... I just need... I just need a moment or two." And so, Penelope helped me to settle down and to clean myself up, and eventually the tears stopped flowing and she was able to help me fix my makeup as best we could and then pin up the part of my dress which had torn when I was fighting with Amy and then she added some foundation to hide a scratch I had on my face. "Any better?" It was Mr. Damien, back again. "Kitten?" Penelope asked, eyes raised. I knew what I would have to do. I'd have to go out there and tell everyone the wedding was off. I nodded resolutely at Penelope and then stood up, and, with a deep breath, took Mr. Damien's arm. Penelope went out first, walking down the aisle and smiling at everyone, and then the organist struck up Mendelssohn's wedding march and Mr. Damien and I were now slowly walking down the aisle! Part of me wanted to yell "STOP! This is not a real wedding! STOP THIS! Everyone stop looking at me! I'm a fraud! I'm not getting married!" But then... Another part of me was sad. This would be the only time I'd ever get to be walked down the aisle. I looked up and saw Kirk staring at me. He had carefully not seen me in the dress, and with all of the hair and makeup and everything (even after having been mussed up by Amy and then hurriedly fixed by Penelope - I knew I was still stunningly beautiful, like all brides are stunningly beautiful on their wedding day), and his face was in awe. I could see it in his eyes, he was truly stunned by how beautiful I looked. Me, Kitten, largely his creation, with all of my surgeries for breasts, waist, face... and my hair and makeup and everything. And I saw him look at me. 'My God, he loves me,' I realized with a start as Mr. Damien "gave me away" to his son who accepted my hand nestled securely in its satin glove. "Is everything okay?" he whispered as we came together and he gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "I... I don't know," I stammered. "Amy--" But before I could say anything, the priest launched into the ceremony, talking about the sanctity of marriage and how it was one of the most noble of all institutions. I glanced back at the audience and could see 250 eager faces staring at me, all here to watch Kirk and me get married, all thrilled to part of a Damien wedding and all looking at me intently, wondering what had happened to delay the wedding and all looking at me expectantly. All those faces! All those eyes! All those people looking at me! I started to hyperventilate. Impulsively I reached out and grasped Kirk's hand for reassurance, eliciting a soft 'awww' from the audience. And it helped. Kirk's hand helped to steady me. All I need is Kirk. He is my everything. The thought came into my head. But I'm no longer Kitten, I'm Colin, right? But I know how to fix that! I realized. I can solve this easily! I can just become Kitten forever. I can just take the leap and say the words and restore all of the conditioning which Amy put into me. I can go back to being Kirk's perfect girlfriend! Happy and horny and not thinking! All I need is to be Kirk's perfect girlfriend. He is my everything. And all I have to do is say the magic phrase. Yes, I decided. Yes! I close my eyes, think back to what Todd told me in the side chamber. "Grapefruit Butterfly," I said. "I-I'm sorry, what was that?" the priest, surprised at being interrupted, asked me. "Grapefruit Butterfly," I said, louder this time. I heard a titter of embarrassed giggles behind me. I looked around. I didn't feel any different! I realized shocked. What the fuck! I'm still Colin! I'm not... "Grapefruit Butterfly," I said again, louder this time. I'm positive that was the phrase! "Grapefruit Butterfly, Grapefruit Butterfly!" I muttered the words over and over, desperate for them to work. But they were not working! I was still Colin! "What's that mean?" Kirk looked at me, with strange eyes. "Are you okay, Kitten?" Just then I realized that, truly, just like Todd said, Kirk was not involved in my hypnotism. He had absolutely no idea what lengths and methods Amy did to turn me into Kirk's perfect girlfriend. What layers of personality and obedience she wrapped around my soul to turn me into Kitten. Layers which had been complete stripped from me by Todd and were now no longer able to be restored. I looked up to see Kirk staring at me, looking for an answer. "I'm so sorry!" I gasped, putting a hand over my mouth. "It's uh.... a mnemonic." "A mnemonic? For what? For your vows?" "Yes! That's it! Thank you! Sorry!" I turned to the congregation. "It's just a mnemonic to help me remember my vows, but I had forgotten the mnemonic, but now I've remembered it. Sorry! Please continue," I said to the priest who looked amused, like now he's seen everything and he'll have a jolly good time telling this story at the next Church of England convention. And so the service continued, with some music, some prayers, and readings from two of Kirk's aunts. Readings about giving ourselves to each other, readings about the sanctity of the home and how we must be always be honest and obedient with each other. And I listened to the beautiful words, struggling and trying to figure out what the hell am I going to do? Softly I began to sob, the stress was just too much. Tears gently dripped down my cheeks. "And now the couple would like to say their private vows to each other." Oh thank God! I had completely forgotten about our private vows! Private vows are common, but are typically said before the wedding ceremony begins. Kirk had the brilliant idea of saying them actually in the church during the ceremony, so they would be combined with our public vows and sanctified as part of the service. It was a little unusual, but the priest allowed it. Kirk and I stepped to the back of the church as the organ started playing Bach's "Air on the G String" softly to cover our talking to each other. "Kirk," I said to him, speaking softly but urgently. "Something happened. I don't have time to explain it..." "What? Was it something Amy did?" "Yes. And no. But mostly yes. And Todd was here. Oh, it's so confusing!" "Todd? What happened?" Kirk grasped my hands. I could see the panic and concern in his face. His special day, his special girlfriend. Was it all going to go away? I think the audience could tell that Kirk was quizzing me about had happened with Amy and why my Maid of Honor was no longer a part of the wedding. What was I going to do?? "Oh Kirk," I said, tears flowing down my cheeks now. "I'm not... I'm not who you think I am. I'm just... I'm just..." "Kitten," Kirk said, grasping my cheek and making me look into his eyes. His beautiful, captivating eyes. Kirk has the most beautiful eyes of anyone on the planet. I have fallen in love in those eyes. "I love you," he said. "It came on gradually, I didn't think it would happen, I thought you'd only ever be my sexual plaything... but you've been so giving, so generous, so sweet, so... beautiful, so caring... I could tell you really cared for me and that made me fall in love with you. I love you, Kitten, I truly do, and I believe that deep down inside of you... that you love me too." "I do?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Yes, you do," he said. "I don't care what happened between you and Amy and Todd. All I know is this. You?ve changed me. I never thought I?d love another person after my divorce, but I love you. And you love me, and we should do what two people who love each other should do... and that is get married. Right here, and right now. What do you say?" I thought about it, struggling with my answer. "Please, Kitten," he begged. I looked Kirk in the eyes and saw a man who needed me as much as I needed him. "Yes," I said. But I wasn't certain. I said yes, but I still didn't know. What was I going to say? When it came right down to it... could I? Should I? "Shall we say our private vows now?" "Yes, Kirk.? "I, Kirk Damien, vow to do everything in my power to be worthy of such a delicate and beautiful creature as yourself, Kitten. I vow to be strong and firm in my intentions and to never give in to temptation to make your life easier, no matter how much I may want it. Therefore, I vow to keep you under lock and key, permanently, so you will always feel the pleasure of being owned and denied. I will continue to insist that you edge yourself, that you continue to say your mantras, and that you continue to mold yourself into the perfect wife and sexual object for my pleasure." I gasped for breath, feeling a sudden wave of horniness. Kirk had changed the vows to be more explicitly dominating. Did he know how much that affected me? Wait.... I was feeling The Tingles. And... the Hungry Lips. Did that mean the hypnosis triggers were back in place? But I felt the same! I still felt like... did I feel like Colin? Or Kitten? Standing in this dress, with the corset, the slip, the long waterfall of fabric around my legs, the tight bodice with the sweetheart neckline highlighting my breasts and cleavage, my made up face, the perfume, the tendrils of hair hanging down my face, the earrings dangling against my neck... ... it was hard to feel anything but Kitten. But did that mean the triggers were back in place? "Kitten?" Kirk asked, gently. I took a couple of breaths. "Kirk, I vow to forever be your faithful, eager and grateful wife. I will devote the rest of my life until I die to making your every waking moment pleasurable and beautiful and carefree to the best of my abilities. I promise to think of nothing but you. I promise to have no goals in life which are not for you. I promise to spend every waking moment to increasing my desire for you, my need for you, and my love for you. And finally, I promise to forever be your horny, eager cock-sucking, anal-loving bimbo slut." I saw his eyes glaze over with lust for just a moment. Then we hugged and kissed, eliciting "awws" from the audience who had no idea what we had just promised to each other. I'm sure most of them would be horrified at what I had just vowed. But what about me? What did I want? I worried over this as we walked back to the front of the church, feeling confused and at a loss. What was I going to do? The priest started reciting our public vows. "In the supportive and ever watchful presence of your assembled friends and family, do you, Kirk Damien, take Kitten, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?" "I do," Kirk said. But the priest wasn't done! "And do you, Kirk, understand that your vows, both public *and* private, are sacred vows, consecrated by God in this holy place?" "I do." "And do you Kirk, swear to the all knowing and all powerful God Almighty, that you will follow these vows, both public *and* private, to the letter and in spirit, to the very best of your ability in fear of your everlasting soul?" "I do." Kirk smiled at me an I could tell exactly what he was thinking. Then, the priest turned to me. "In the supportive and ever watchful presence of your assembled friends and family, do you, Kitten, take Kirk Damien, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish and to obey, until death do you part?" I heard gasps from the audience at the line 'to obey', which was not in Kirk's vows. Oh, if only they knew the full extent of our vows! But this was the moment of truth. What should I do? Should I continue with ceremony? Or should I call it all off? "I do," I said, looking Kirk in the eyes. I just agreed to be his wife, I realized, with a shock. I just vowed to take him as my lawfully wedded husband... to have and to hold... and to obey. Until death do us part. Just as the enormity of what I was agreeing to, literally giving the rest of my life to Kirk, was starting to sink in... I felt a humming, 'down there'. Oh Heavenly God Above! The new butt plug jewel in my arse was a vibrator! I looked at Kirk, my eyes dilating with lust. Kirk looked back, intently, our eyes locked. He had one hand in his jacket pocket (the one facing the rear of the church, away from the audience). He moved it, and I felt something more. Oh no... no, no, no, NO!!! My new cock cage was vibrating as well! I couldn't believe his audacity. He had turned on remote controlled vibrators worn by his bride, on the alter, literally as she was saying her vows! Oh God, oh God. The chastity cage I was wearing had a ring which circled the head of my penis, which meant the vibrations were circling right around my most sensitive spot. Thank God I was wearing layers and layers of wedding dress. You couldn't hear anything at all. I'm sure that Kirk and I were the only ones to know exactly what was happening. Good girls don't think. Good girls obey. The vibrators hummed their way into my brain. Good girls edge their minds away. The mantra went through my head, unbidden. Oh God... Oh God... Get me out of here... But the ceremony wasn't over yet. "And do you, Kitten, understand that your vows are sacred vows, consecrated by God in this holy place?" The priest continued. "I... I do," I stammered, distracted by the vibrations in my crotch. Oh God, I prayed silently to myself. Oh God, what have I done? Please God, Hear my Prayer! Help me! "And do you, Kitten, also understand that your *private* vows are just as sacred and are also consecrated by God in this Holy Place." "I do, I do!" I was breathing harder now, trying desperately to keep my features calm and collected. My private vows, my private vows.... These were the vows where I promised to devote my life to my husband's pleasure.... also... Oh God... my promise to be a horny cock-sucking, anal-loving bimbo slut is now a sacred vow that has been consecrated by God? It's a sacred vow... a vow to God... a vow to be a horny cock sucking bimbo for my husband... who loves anal... Is now a sacred and consecrated vow to God...?? "And do you, Kitten, swear to follow and hold fast to each and every vow, to the letter and spirit, for every day of your life, until death?" "I... I do. Yes... Please..." Every day of my life devoted to Kirk. Devoted to his pleasure. Thinking of nothing but his pleasure... his bimbo, his anal slut... Good girls don't think... Just then I saw Kirk reach into his pocket a third time. Holy fuck, what now? My eyes shot wide. Oh God, there was now something humming over each nipple?? HOW COULD ANYONE BE SO EVIL?? "And do you Kitten, swear to the all knowing and all powerful God Almighty, that you will follow these vows, both public *and* private, to the very best of your ability in fear of your everlasting soul until death do you part?" This was it. This was the moment of truth. My last chance to stop this whole charade. My last chance to stop the entire thing and just turn away. But what was I going to do? What did I want? Who am I? Am I Colin? Or am I Kitten? Did I really want to spend my life under lock and key to Kirk, being his slut bunny plaything? Thinking of nothing but his pleasure... letting his life fill my life and purpose... for all eternity... Good girls obey... I looked up at Kirk and he could see it in my eyes. "I do," I said, sealing my fate. I felt a flood emotion take me like a divine rapture. I now belonged to Kirk. For now and forever. I had made my choice and I had chosen... to be Kirk's anal loving, cock sucking, bimbo... ... wife. "I now pronounce you man and wife. Mr. Damien, you may kiss the bride." I looked at Kirk, breathing hard, right on the very edge, and just as he pulled me into his arms and placed a deep kiss on my lips, I whimpered and it happened... I orgasmed. Oh God, oh God, oh GOD THANK YOU!!! Kirk held me tight, making sure I couldn't escape, as I gasped and keened in his arms, kissing him with ardor as the orgasm flowed through my body. Right at the altar, in church, during my wedding, in front of the priest and 250 guests... I was having an orgasm! After a year of denial and edging, it was the most massive, incredible orgasm I have ever had. My little penis spurted and spurted, soaking my panties and crotch, cum dripping down my leg. (You could see a small puddle on the carpet in front of the altar after we walked away, if you were looking for it). But it was different than any other orgasm. It started in my bottom and then radiated out from there. Oh God... was it...? The audience laughed at my obvious pleasure at being in Kirk's arms, but none of them realized what was really happening, that the bride was literally having HER VERY FIRST ANAL ORGASM EVER, with waves of pleasure flowing through her jerking, spasming body as the vibrators on all her sensitive parts did their evil work making it last and last and last, as Kirk continued to kiss me and kiss me and the audience in the church applauded and applauded. And in that instant, my orgasm and Kirk's kiss flushed all doubt and worry from my soul and rewired my brain. I was now Kirk's devoted wife in every possible way. No longer acting, no longer hypnotized, just an eager, horny anal slut wife for her husband. And it felt like a literal gift from God, my newfound ability to have anal orgasms. Delivered by God just at that moment when I had fully committed myself to Kirk and to my new place in life, and just when I needed it the most and when I was committing myself to a lifetime of marriage, that GOD reached down, into the church and touched me with a gift that was undeniably divine. *** Epilogue: The rest of the day was pure torture. There I was, trying my best to enjoy this wonderful reception, this amazing food, visiting with all of Kirk's friends and family (smiling and doing my best to be engaging and charming), when all I wanted to do was GET THE FUCK INTO BED AND HAVE MY HUSBAND FUCK MY BOTTOM!! Oh God. You would have thought that having an orgasm (on the altar! While saying my vows!) would have calmed me, but NO, it made it worse. So much worse!! It unlocked a part of me that I hadn't even realized was inside. It made me WANT Kirk, and to want him in the worst possible way, to want ANAL FUCKING and AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. And I think his friends all knew what was going on inside my head. I suppose I did make it pretty obvious what I was looking forward to since there was lots of talk about "the wedding night" and "spending the honeymoon in bed" and "the two lovebirds" and ?get a room you two!? and I suppose I did make a lot of unsubtle hints about wanting to just get out of there so I could get fucked by my husband. But Kirk would just laugh and kiss me (ohhh.. such nice kisses) and tell me to be patient, and so I would pout but then try and be as charming and as friendly and as chatty and engaging as I could, like a good hostess should be. But when you've just discovered that you really are, deep down inside, truly, a cock sucking, anal-loving bimbo slut (!!!) then all you want is to be thrown over the bed and FUCKED and FUCKED HARD IN THE BUM BY YOUR HUSBAND?S HARD COCK, but NOOOO, you have to be a good hostess and be gracious and dance with the father of the groom and his best man (squirming as he gropes your bottom) and then talking about the size of men's penises with Penelope and your other bridesmaid (Kirk's office assistant, Stacey). And it's good that I changed into a "reception dress", which is ANOTHER Marchesa classy, white dress, this time a high-low cocktail dress with lace flowers and silver thread embroidery that's great for dancing (which I've been practicing), and thank God, for the change, because I can finally clean myself up from all of the dripping that my little penis inside it's little cage is doing. I ask Penelope for some panty liners and she just grins knowingly at me and gives me a few, two of which I put into my panties to absorb all of the dripping (because I'm, basically, just SO HORNY) and two which I put into my purse for later. And so you do your best, but all the while you look at Kirk hoping to catch his eye, and when he does look at you and you catch his glance it just melts you inside and then you look at him with a look of raw lust hoping that he understands what you want, but then he just laughs and grins at you and goes back to his conversation and you know, okay, not yet. *** And then, finally, the party's winding down and a limousine comes and Penelope and Stacey offer to close up the place and Kirk and I are whisked away past a big line of people applauding and wishing us best and making ribald jokes about how Kirk needs to take care of my itch (if only they knew!!). I have no clue where we're going, and I don't care. I'm all over Kirk in the Limo and we spend the entire time kissing and groping each other, getting crazy horny, but he refuses to have sex in the Limousine, and I am on the verge of getting upset with him before realizing that's just the bimbo-slut talking and I've decided to devote my life to Kirk's pleasure, so I slow down and become his sex-kitten and we continue like that until, FINALLY, the Limousine pulls up at the Savoy Hotel. And THANK GOD, we're already checked in (Kirk's assistant has seen to that) so we're met on the curb by a nice lady and whisked immediately up to the room, WHICH HAS A BLOODY LOBBY AREA ALL TO ITSELF, to this MASSIVE room and Kirk leave 100 pounds on the end table outside the door as tip for the bell hop and then lifts me up and carries me (!!!) over the threshold, slamming the door behind us with his foot and then dragging me to bed. And he unzips my dress and it just slides right off (hurray for the wedding reception dress!) and I already have the lubricant in my hand from my purse, and I frantically unzip Kirk and pull out his penis (and OH GOD, it is SO HARD, HARDER THAN I'VE EVER SEEN IT) and finally, FINALLY!!! Kirk throws me over the bed on top of the dress and thrusts right into me and IMMEDIATELY I'm shouting and screaming and cuming and cuming and cuming!! Oh God, Anal orgasms are the best! Pleasure flows through me over and over, in waves and my anus is twitching and begging for more and I'm jerking with waves of pleasure and Kirk is thrusting and then he comes, pressing inside me, and I feel him so deliciously deep, pressing against my deep parts, taking me, claiming me as his anal slut, forever, his trophy bimbo wife, for ever and ever. But he doesn't go soft! He's still hard! So he doesn't stop, he just continues, and this time slower, longer, with more love and not just hard fucking and then we both orgasm again and it is the most amazing feeling, and I cry and scream and I'm sure the bell boy heard us because we heard the elevator *ping* in the foyer and we don't care because we're just so horny and so in love that we could just fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck forever. *** But of course we can't just stay in this fancy hotel room and fuck forever, because life goes on. And by life, I mean our honeymoon which is in Thailand! Kirk wakes me up, we fuck in the morning, then we have breakfast in bed, then shower and then it's off to first class on British Airways where we end up (the next morning) in a gorgeous beach resort in Thailand where we hang out for three weeks fucking and eating and fucking some more. I am in heaven. Oh yeah, and actually I forget, but maybe we spend a few days with a car and driver going around and seeing some sights. All I really remember is the fucking and sucking and being, after three weeks, FINALLY satisfied, having had anal orgasms every time we fucked and just WANTING to have sex, like all the time, and occasionally actually DESPERATE for it. Like a real anal slut. Like a real, honest to God, like through and through Bimbo Anal Slut. *** When we finally get back to England I am completely a new person. So in love, so committed to my husband and to my marriage, and loving life and sex and everything is absolutely beautiful and colorful and the world is the most amazing place ever. Thankfully, Todd and the police have been busy while we've been away. Amy has been arrested and thrown in jail, as has her drug supplier, and all her formulae have been forever sealed by the court, although I expect that most experts would not be surprised that you can use LSD with hypnosis to do some pretty evil things. And I go to give my statement to the Police, and Kirk does as well, but thanks to Todd, Kirk is not a suspect and we can go about our life together. Which, I've noticed, involves a lot of shopping. Wait, is that Penelope I hear? Thank goodness! I need to buy some slutty new clothes for Kirk for our weekend away together. I've gotten so I can predict his moods, when he wants a slut to fuck and abuse and when he wants a wife for comfort. This weekend will definitely be slut. I can't wait!! THE END Thanks to Robyn Hoode for her amazing editorial services and for teaching me the difference between ?pants? and ?trousers?. Any errors which remain are entirely the fault of the author.