Daddy had been relentless all week, teasing me constantly until I was having trouble concentrating on anything else but the impending weekend. He’d send texts at the most inopportune times, like during dinner or worse, while I was in class.  Most of them were dirty. Really dirty, though sometimes they’d be a reminder not to come without permission.  A couple of times he sent little tasks like ‘suggesting’ that I wear a short skirt and no panties the next day to school and flash someone on the bus on the way home.

I did, too. I was so nervous doing it, but it turned me on, sitting in class, hyperaware that I was a heartbeat away from exposing myself to my instructor. By the end of the day, I was so wet that the insides of my thighs were slick with pussy juice. Like a good girl, I sat in the very back of the bus, heart beating nervously when an older man approached and asked if the seat next to me was taken.

“No,” I told him shyly, moving my bag next to me so that it was between us when he sat. And then, mustering up my courage, I began to inch my hem up my thighs as we both pretended to ignore each other. Eventually I held my breath and exposed my pussy. Just for a few seconds. Long enough for him to get a look. I heard him catch his breath as I covered myself again.  He gave me a smile when his stop eventually came, and stood.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. I giggled softly as he left.  

I asked, of course. Begged him to let me get myself off. I was going crazy just playing with myself while thinking about all the things we would do this weekend. The answer was always ‘no’.

Angie was leaving Friday, so he wouldn’t be picking me up after school. Instead, he gave me a place to meet him. It was just a time and an address.  He also told me to expect a package that night and to open it before I went to sleep. I was unable to focus on anything for the rest of the day and endured some mild teasing from some of my squad at my many miscues during practice.

“Boys on the brain, Katy?”

“Something like that,” I mumbled bashfully, glad that I didn’t have to say anything more.

I wore my uniform home, enjoying getting looks on the bus ride. This time I kept my spankies on. Good thing, too, since I was reading another text and it was making me wet.

Daddy can’t wait to get his hands on his slutty little bitch. Angie won’t be home until Sunday. Imagine all the fun we are going to have while she’s gone. If you’re a good girl, I might even let you come for me. Or maybe not.

I sat back, thinking about the drawer full of his wife’s toys, wondering if he’d use any of them on me. Or all of them. I was so lost in my thoughts I almost missed my stop. By the time I got to my room, there was a wet patch in the crotch of my spankies. Without really thinking, I started rubbing myself against my bedpost like I was a bitch in heat.

Dinner came and went. Mom was home but had plans on going out after. Secretly, I was pleased. I’d have the house to myself.  I decided I was going to become a decadent teenage slut the moment the door closed behind her.

First thing I did was strip down to nothing and flop onto my back on the bed with my phone so I could take some selfies for Daddy. I know how much he liked to wank to pictures of me.   I made sure my pussy was nice and wet and took some close-ups, sending them before I could chicken out. I followed up with a daring text message.

I want you to do whatever you want, Daddy. No limits.

I wasn’t even sure what I meant by that, only that the idea of giving him complete control was too tempting to resist. I wanted to lose control too. Or have it taken from me like in some of the BDSM porn I’d been watching.

His reply was quick, and it left me breathless.

Don’t worry, baby girl. Daddy is going to use you in ways you can’t begin to imagine.

I must have read his message five or six times before I finally put it down. I needed relief so bad, so I loaded up a site on my phone and got comfortable on my bed. It was one of the more extreme sites that I’d found and hadn’t really had the chance to explore, so I scrolled through it while I waited for the mysterious package that was supposed to arrive.

I wasn’t really ready for some of what I saw. It was both mesmerizing and terrifying.  Did people really get off on being hurt or being pissed on? And that was just the tip of the iceberg. I spent about an hour watching in repellant fascination, unable to look away. It was like a porn car wreck on the side of the road. To make things even more confusing, I was getting turned on by a lot of it. I only put my phone down when I heard the doorbell. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Maybe that was the mysterious package? Putting on a terrycloth robe, I went downstairs, looking out the peephole before opening the door.

No one was there. Just a plain cardboard box with my name on it. I took it upstairs and opened it excitedly, eager to see what he’d sent.

Mom had barely paid any attention when I’d told her I was going to be babysitting for the weekend and staying over at the Thompsons’ house. Usually that would have annoyed me, but this time? It was perfect.

Classes on Friday took forever. So did cheer practice and the bus ride home. Mom was still at work, and I didn’t waste any time getting ready and out of the house before she got home.  I’d be a little early, but I was too excited to wait. After showering and shaving my pussy so it was perfectly smooth and hairless the way Daddy liked it, I dressed in what had been in the box he’d sent, standing in front of the mirror so I could watch my transformation from normal suburban teenage girl to kinky teenage slut.

I started with a pair of white booty scrunch shorts that fit me like a second skin. They were so tight that I could see the outline of my pussy lips through them.  I had been instructed to slip the toy that had been in the box into my pussy before putting them on. I could feel it inside me. It was curved so that whenever I moved, it bumped against my g-spot, driving me a little crazy so that I was already a bit of a wet mess.

 Next, a matching tank that left my midriff bare. It, too, was so tight that it left little to the imagination.  My nipples were obviously rock hard beneath it. I felt almost naked wearing it. I spent at least five minutes, maybe more, running my fingers sensuously over my tits, working myself up a little, watching as my tits rose and fell, my breath quickening as thoughts of what Daddy would do to me, messing with my head, made it impossible to think rationally.

I moved closer to the mirror, watching my reflection as I ran my finger over my shorts, pressing it between my swollen lips, pushing the toy inside me deeper, rubbing my clit. Even through the Lycra material, it felt amazing. I watched as a visible wet spot appeared, spreading slowly. I was panting now. Moaning too, I realized. I stopped. I didn’t want to, but I was worried that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to, and the compulsion to be a good girl for Daddy was strong.

Focusing on the visible wet spot, I felt my cheeks go hot at the thought of being out in public.  Thankfully, there was a pink skirt in the box to provide cover, not that it did a very good job. It matched my collar, which was sitting on my dresser.  It was obscenely short, showing off my ass cheeks and a hint of my shorts. If anything, it drew attention to how skimpily I was dressed. Without thinking too much about it, I put on my collar, fingers trembling as I buckled it around my throat, enjoying the feel of raw leather against my flesh. It felt right. A symbol of ownership. Of dominance. His. And subservience. Mine.

I barely recognized the sound I made as I cupped my tits and stroked my nipples with my thumbs while watching hips rock slowly back and forth, my cunt clenching around the toy inside me, a sense of euphoria washing through me. I wanted it to be his cock inside me. Soon, I thought. Soon,

I stopped myself. I needed to finish getting dressed. A pair of white over-the-knee socks and pink stripper heels completed my outfit. I looked like a porn version of Lolita. Daddy had said I could hide under a coat for now. I didn’t want to be seen leaving the house like this.  I packed my wallet, phone, and my keys in a small handbag. Before I left, I paused once more in front of the mirror, impulsively applying bright red lipstick so that I looked more like a whore, thinking he’d like that touch. Then, with a stomach full of butterflies, I departed.

I really didn’t want to take the bus like this, so I’d arranged for an Uber to pick me up and take me to the address Daddy had texted me earlier, nervous at the way the driver looked at me as I got into the passenger seat, conscious of how much of my thighs he could see. At least I had my coat on so he couldn’t see much else.

It was growing dark out by the time I was dropped off. The Wet Spot. It looked slightly unsavory. So not the kind of place a girl my age should be visiting.

I texted Daddy that I’d arrived. Just like he’d told me to do earlier.

Good girl. Go inside. Tell them you’re meeting Mr. Thompson.

I discovered that I was having trouble swallowing and breathing was getting difficult. For a microsecond I considered turning around and going home, but it passed quickly, and I took a steadying breath and went inside.

The hostess was twice my age but still pretty. She looked me over as the door closed behind me but didn’t comment. Her smile looked a little fake.

“Can I help you, hon?”

“I’m supposed to meet Mr. Thompson?”

She took a moment to check a black book at her station, then nodded.

“This way.”

Wordlessly, I followed her, accompanied by the sounds of conversation and hard rock from an old-fashioned jukebox, looking around nervously as she led me through the bar. She hadn’t even checked my ID. Maybe that was just if I tried to order a drink? I had no idea. This being the first time I’d ever been inside a bar in my life. It wasn’t very well lit. I think that was on purpose. It was mostly guys, and mostly older. The few women I saw were with someone, and there was no one, male or female, even close to my age.

I was getting a lot of looks, too, the kind that made me feel uncomfortable. The hostess took me to a doorway. A curtain of wooden beads blocked the view, but I could hear the sound of Daddy’s voice followed by laughter.  

“He’s in here," the hostess said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes before she left me standing there. Nervously pushing the beads aside, I entered.

Daddy was sitting on a barstool, back to the bar, his eyes lighting up, or so it seemed, when he saw me. Besides him there was a good-looking older man. Old enough to be my father. He looked like he worked out. Like Daddy, he was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt.

“There she is. Didn’t I tell you she was a little hottie?”

Daddy beckoned me with a crook of his finger. I didn’t waste any time, hurrying to him, needing to feel his arms around me, suddenly needing to feel safe. He stayed on his stool, his arms around me, his legs parted so I could stand between his thighs as he soothed my hair tenderly. For a while, nothing else mattered. There was only him.  I felt his fingers under my chin, tilting my face towards his. I got lost in his eyes as he pressed his lips against mine. His kiss was tender at first, but it grew more aggressive as it went on.  

He cupped the back of my head, holding me against him, his tongue forcing my lips apart as he clumsily unbuttoned my coat, opening it, then sliding it off my shoulders while my kiss grew passionate, forgetting about the other man.  

I moaned into his mouth as his tongue swirled over mine. And then I was sucking his like a cock, wishing it was the real thing.

“Fucking hot.” The voice came from right behind me, startling me a little.    

My breath caught as the stranger helped me the rest of the way out of my coat, revealing my skimpy outfit. I should have been embarrassed or something. I wasn’t. I’d been aching for this all week. Touching myself, imagining his hands all over me. Undressing me. Touching me. Fucking me. I pressed my pussy against the stool seat, pushing the toy inside of me deeper. I began to grind, panting. I gasped as soft vibrations filled my cunt, clenching down on it, feeling it suddenly start to buzz inside of me.

“Fuck,” I managed, as Daddy cupped my ass and pulled me closer so that I was pressed against the seat of his stool, my tits squished against his chest, gasping as the pressure pushed the vibe deeper into me.

“Fuck.” This time it came out as a shaky whisper followed by a shuddering moan. I could feel the tip pressing against my g-spot, the vibrations building deep in my core.

“Please,” I whimpered. “Not in front of... him.”

He just laughed and held me there.  “Don’t blame me.  Matt has the remote.”

I couldn’t get the words out in time. I’d been so keyed up for so long, and suddenly I was overwhelmed with pleasure. I felt myself surrendering as he kissed me again and held me against him. And then I lost control and started to cum. In front of Daddy and in front of Daddy’s friend.

“What a firecracker,” Matt commented, laughing. My orgasm consumed me. I would have collapsed on the floor if it wasn’t for Daddy and the man behind me holding me up. Worse, the vibrations increased, putting me in serious danger of going off again.

I felt Daddy’s hand bushing past my hips then gripping my waist, pinning me against him. A hand from behind pushed my shirt up until it was exposing my small boobs. Another cupped my pussy and rubbed.

“Party time, baby.”

I felt his cock against my back, pressing against me through his jeans as he started mauling my tits from behind like I was some sort of cheap whore. I guess, at that point, I might as well have been.

“Daddy?”

I stumbled over the word between kisses, drool sliding down my chin.

“Just go with it, Katy. You’re my little plaything tonight. My fuck toy. And I feel like sharing.”

I had never in a million years imagined this. I’d thought we’d spend the night at the house fucking while his wife was away. Not this.  This was crossing a line I could never uncross, and a part of me wanted to object. A deeper, darker part of me won out, and I surrendered myself to it.  

“I belong to you, Daddy.”  My voice was so soft I wasn’t even sure if he could hear me. I don’t think it mattered either way. He already knew.

I didn’t fight or resist as he took off my top and tossed it on the floor. When he handed me a glass, I drank. I didn’t normally drink, but I was pretty sure it was tequila.

“All of it. It will help you relax.”

I gulped it all down, making a face at the taste.

I didn’t resist when Matt turned me so I was facing him. He hadn’t turned the vibe off, and it was still buzzing away, keeping me on edge. I was so horny I couldn’t think straight, and now, the buzz of tequila was adding another layer to my sexual high. Matt put his hands on my shoulders and pushed, guiding me down to my knees. I had a good idea what was going to happen, and there was a moment of panic, but then I relaxed and knelt on the hardwood floor, naked from the waist up, my face level with his crotch.

“You know what to do, slut.”

The bulge in his jeans was huge. I’d fantasized about being with a stranger more than once. I kissed him. His cock, at least. Through his jeans. Not a peck. I planted my lips against his zipper and kissed him like I meant it, leaving a smear of bright red lipstick on the denim. I felt him twitch through the material as he planted his hand on top of my head and held me there.

“Going to be a good girl, like your Daddy told you, Katy?”

I was a little taken aback that he knew my name. Knew about me. I wondered what else he knew. Not that it mattered. Daddy wanted to share me with him, and I wanted to make Daddy happy. That’s all that mattered.

“Yes, Sir. I am going to be...