Chapter 1 In which our narrator meets his future girlfriend
My Slut Girlfriend
Chapter 1: In which our narrator meets his future girlfriend
My girlfriend is a slut. And I'm proud to say I made her that way.
I first met Kathy at work. She joined the company about a month ago and was
placed at the desk next to me. She wasn't part of my team and, although I cast
an admiring glance over her from time to time, I had little opportunity to speak
to her or get to know her. You may find that strange but my job is high
pressure and I have little time to do anything but work. Once work was over, we
tended to stick to our own teams where there were plenty of hot little honeys
whose pants I was desperate to get into, without worrying about Kathy.
Sure, she was attractive but to my mind nothing special. I can sum her up
briefly: 5 5, 25 years old, 120 lbs possibly more, blonde shoulder length hair,
blue eyes, cute nose, nice figure - 36C, 25, 34 - shapely legs. She always
dressed smartly - not too revealing, not too formal. She had a taste for skirts
that ended just above the knee and often wore tights or stockings. Sometimes
she tied her hair in a ponytail, most of the time she wore it down. What can I
say? She was a cute looking girl who you'd give a second glance in the street
but nothing more.
So what you're wanting to know is how I made her my girlfriend and how I made
her my slut. Well, it happened more or less simultaneously. One afternoon, we
were sitting working side by side, me as usual wrapped up in my job, watching
the computer screen intently. Suddenly, I felt something hot and scalding on my
right thigh.
"Jesus!" I shouted and jumped back out of my chair, knocking my papers onto the
floor. I looked to my right and realised that Kathy had knocked her coffee all
over my desk. She was looking at me, one hand half raised to her mouth.
"Oh God, " she said, "I am so, so sorry." With that, she knelt down on the
floor and began picking up my papers. To gather some of the papers, she lowered
herself onto her hands and knees and began scrabbling under my desk. I looked
down at her, noting the smooth curve of the tanned skin in the small of her back
as her shirt rode slightly up her spine and her curvaceous and tight little
buttocks. She crawled back out and still on all fours, looked up at me. Her
eyes were wide and I thought I detected something else there, a glint of
excitement in her eyes. "I am so, so sorry," she said again, this time very
slowly as if begging forgiveness... or punishment. She bit the side of her lip
with her tongue.
"It's ok," I said, then adding, "providing you have dinner with me tonight."
She lowered her eyes coyly and then looked back up at me, smiled and nodded her
approval.
I returned her smile and then, on a whim, wondering if I had read her expression
correctly, said sharply, "Now pick up those papers!"
I saw her expression change and watched as she continued to crawl on the floor,
picking up the papers. I noted with interest that Kathy stayed on her hands
and knees crawling at my feet when she could just as easily have gathered the
papers in another less submissive manner. I was intrigued. Once gathered,
still kneeling, she placed the papers on my desk and turned silently to me. I
smiled. She remained kneeling before me. "You can get up now," I said and she
rose and silently sat down at her desk.
I could tell from Kathy's demeanour and behaviour that she was a natural
submissive. As soon as I had exerted control over her, she had responded and,
more to the point, had naturally taken on a submissive posture and remained in
it until ordered otherwise. Her body language spoke volumes. I began to plan
the night.
Later that day, I sent Kathy an eMail. Given her obvious submissive nature, I
felt this to be more appropriate than telling her the arrangements face to face.
I felt she would respond better. The eMail read:
"Kathy. You will present yourself at [name removed] at 7:30 pm. You will wait
in the lounge bar until I arrive. You will be wearing a short black dress,
black top, black stockings and heels. You will wear black lace bra and panties.
Do you understand?"
I watched her carefully as she read the eMail. She began to blush and tremble
slightly. I received a simple response from Kathy by eMail: "Of course."
Kathy left at 4:30, I assumed to get ready. I looked at my watch. I still had
time to put a couple of hours in. I didn't intend getting to the restaurant
until 8:00 at the earliest.
Chapter 2: In which the parameters of the relationship are defined.
I arrived at the restaurant at around 8:30. I was pleased, but not surprised,
to see Kathy sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, and looking distinctly
uncomfortable. She was dressed as I had ordered and looked stunning. I sat
down on the barstool next to Kathy, ignoring her for the time being, and ordered
a drink. I noticed Kathy's drink was nearly empty but did not offer her one - I
wanted to see how she would react.
It was only after I had been served my drink that I turned to face her. Kathy
immediately lowered her eyes to avoid my gaze. I lifted her chin up with my
fingers so that she was looking into my eyes. I smiled as I saw the subservient
expression on her face - eager to please and yet nervous of what she might have
to do to please me.
Kathy had dressed well. She was wearing a tight knee black skirt that ended
just above the knees. Her legs were clad in sheer black stockings and she was
wearing black stilettos. She was also wearing a low cut black top that showed
off her cleavage to perfection. I smiled - this would be more fun than I
imagined. It was always more amusing to humiliate and abuse a good looking well
turned out woman than a slattern.
"Are you thirsty?" I asked her. She nodded. "Like another drink?" I enquired.
"Yes please," Kathy replied. Smiling, I removed an ice cube from my glass and
placed it on the bar. "There you are," I told her, "If you are thirsty, you may
have that - so long as you use only your mouth." This was the first test -
would Kathy obey me?
She looked at me, her cheeks blushing. But she bent over and picked up the ice
cube between her teeth and took it into her mouth. Nervously, she looked around
to see if anyone had noticed. I watched her intently as she sucked the ice
cube. Her cheeks still blossomed with her blushes and she lowered her eyes as I
stared at her. I noted with interest however that her nipples were clearly
erect and I wondered whether the blush still glowing on her pretty face was a
combination of embarrassment and the first signs of sexual excitement at her
treatment. Her reaction however was clear - Kathy was responding in a clearly
sexual manner to this minor humiliation. It was clear she was a true
submissive.
Now for the next test. "Hoist your skirt up your legs," I said to her quietly.
She looked at me for a moment, biting her bottom lip, pleading with her eyes not
to be made to this but simultaneously begging to be forced to do it. I stared
at her, saying nothing. Kathy moved her hands onto her lap and slowly dragged
the hem of her skirt up over her thighs, revealing more of her smooth stocking
clad legs. "Keep going, " I said. The blush on her cheeks deepened but she
obeyed, eventually hoisting the hem of the skirt up to reveal her stocking tops.
"Good," I said, placing one hand on her right thigh and sliding it under her
skirt. Kathy said nothing, although at my touch, I detected a slight tremble of
pleasure. I slid my hand up her silken thigh onto her crotch. The material in
the crotch of her panties was wet. I began to run my finger up and down the
middle of her panties, my finger tracing the line of her slit. I watched as
Kathy moaned quietly and closed her eyes. This girl was a real submissive slut
- I would have fun with this one.
"OK," I said, " We're going to have a question and answer session. I want you
to answer truthfully, fully and honestly. Understand?"
Kathy nodded. "Understand?" I repeated. "Yes," Kathy replied.
"First of all, there's one other thing you need to understand," I said, "You
will always refer to me as 'sir' or 'master'. Is that clear?"
"Yes sir, " Kathy replied, glancing to her right at the barman who, I noticed,
was spending a little too much time down our end of the bar. I guessed he had
seen and heard our exchanges so far and was intrigued as to what was going on.
So much the better, I thought, all the more humiliating for my little slave.
"Louder," I commanded. Kathy blushed again but obeyed. "Yes sir, " she
replied. I noted that the barman was now watching intently and appeared to have
been cleaning the same glass for some five minutes now.
"Good," I smiled, "Now tell me your full name."
"Kathy Manners," she replied.
"No," I said, "That is incorrect. You are my slut. Now, tell me again, who are
you?"
"I am your slut, sir," she replied. The barman's eyes were wide now and his
mouth was lolling open. Kathy had by now noticed the barman's interest and was
squirming nervously in her chair. Her humiliation was obvious but so was her
sexual excitement at being forced to do this. I wondered how far she would go.
"Excellent," I said, "But you are much more than just a slut. You are my dirty
slut. What are you?"
"I am your dirty slut, sir," Kathy replied, shifting uncomfortably on her stool.
"You are my dirty cum slut, aren't you?"
"Yes sir, I am your dirty cum slut." It was such a turn on to make such a
pretty and obviously well brought up woman speak such foul language and degrade
herself in such a way.
"Now put your hand in your panties and play with yourself, and tell me again
what you are." I could tell how humiliating this was for Kathy. At least one
person was aware of what was going on and it was likely that more people in the
bar had noted Kathy's behaviour. To now be forced to play with herself in
public must have been so degrading for Kathy. Nevertheless, I watched as Kathy
slid her right hand under her skirt and into her panties.
"What a slut!" I exclaimed, "Playing with yourself in public. Now I want you to
tell me again what you are."
"I'm your dirty cum slut, sir, " moaned Kathy as she continued to frig herself,
"I'm your dirty cum slut."
I let Kathy play with herself for about a minute until I could tell she was
approaching orgasm and then ordered her to stop and remove her hand from her
panties. She did as I ordered but she was clearly uncomfortable, wriggling her
ass on the stool in frustration. I then told her to lick her sticky fingers
which she did eagerly.
"You're getting a little hot, slut, " I told her, "You need to cool down." I
then ordered her to take a handful of ice from my glass and put it in her
panties. I watched as Kathy grabbed a handful of ice cubes and gingerly placed
them inside her panties. I saw her jump with the cold and laughed as a large
pool of ice water began to form on the stool and trickle onto the floor. To a
casual observer, it would look as if Kathy had peed herself.
By now, my cock was hard and, amusing though this treatment for Kathy was, if
this carried on much longer, I would cum in my pants - and what was the point of
that when I had a slut to cum on instead.
"Come on now, " I said to Kathy, standing up, "We're leaving. Pay the barman
for my drinks." Reluctantly, she stood, water trickling down her stocking-clad
legs, and motioned for the barman to approach. "Actually," I said, "Do you want
a drink before we go?" Kathy nodded, "Yes please, sir." I smiled and whispered
my instructions in her ear.
When the barman arrived, Kathy paid him for my drinks and then said, "Please may
I have a drink as well." "Of course, madam," he said, "What would you like?" I
saw Kathy blush deep red as she gave the barman her order, "I want you to take
that soda siphon and squirt it at my face until my master tells you to stop."
The barman looked at me and I nodded.
The barman eagerly took the soda siphon from the shelf and raised it to Kathy's
face. Kathy stood hands by her side, eyes screwed up awaiting the burst of
water. A jet of water blasted out of the siphon straight into Kathy's face,
splashing over her hair, down her chest soaking her dress. The barman looked at
me and I nodded at him to continue. The water poured over her, soaking her to
the skin. I allowed Kathy to be squirted until the siphon was empty.
The bar was deathly quiet. Kathy stood there, her head hanging in humiliation
as the water dripped off her onto the floor. She was completely and utterly
soaked, her hair matted against her face. Behind us, I heard a few chuckles
from the other patrons of the restaurant. Just to make sure Kathy was well and
truly soaked, I picked up the ice bucket and tipped it over her head. She
gasped as the ice water poured over her. Again she was silent as she stood
there, nipples erect, shivering, water dripping off her onto the floor.
I took Kathy's purse and emptied it onto the bar, passing all the money to the
barman. Then I motioned to Kathy and ordered her to follow a few paces behind
as I left. I deliberately walked very slowly out of the bar so that Kathy was
forced to make her way equally as slowly through the patrons, many of who were
now convulsed with laughter at her appearance.
I walked out into the parking lot to my car. Kathy followed, shivering from the
cold night air and the ice water all over her, her dress clinging to her body.
I told her to get into the car and keep quiet. The night was still young.
