INSATIABLE KITTEN – Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Kitten

Sex. It has a smell—sweat, smoke, and spice, infused with arousal. As soon as I step through the door, it hits me like an invisible wave, igniting my body and racing my heart in anticipation. I’ve missed this. The gripping rush. The familiar comfort of letting myself be whoever I need to be, whoever I want to be, without judgement.

It’s been a while since I’ve graced these walls with my presence. I can’t remember why I let myself endure the self-inflicted torture of staying away from here, of holding myself back from the one thing that truly makes me feel alive. That’s in the past now, though. I’m back. Back where I belong. Back to the one place I can get what I need without fear of scrutiny.

“Kitten. I was surprised to see your name back on the list tonight.” The gruff voice draws my attention, and I flash my teeth in a pleased smile as I take in Brock, the Vixen’s Lodge head of security. Kitty purrs between my legs as I drag my gaze over him. I hadn’t realised how much I missed this Vin Diesel wannabe, yet his dark eyes filled with lust, and the way his tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip before he bites it, is a clear reminder of how I revel in attention. In being watched. In being worshipped. Maybe I can let him pet my Kitty before I enter the party?

“Brock. You look good enough to eat.” I drag my tongue slowly across my upper lip before mimicking him and biting my lower lip. My hungry eyes roam over his rippling body, and would you look at that? My Brocky Boy is straining in his pants.

“Don’t look at me like that, Kitten. You know I’m working right now.”

“Yeah. Working my Kitty into a weeping mess.” Fluttering my thick dark lashes at him, I watch Brock re-arrange his hard length in his black pants. Fuck me sideways! That thing is huge! He hasn’t let me touch it yet. Any time I’ve worked my Kitty magic on him, he has me ride his fingers or his face until he milks all the juice from my body. While the way he tweaks his fingers or swirls his tongue is mind-fucking-blowing, I really want to ride that cock.

“How about you go inside and party, and when the night is over, if you’re still hungry, I’ll feed you.” Brock crosses his thick tattoo-covered arms over his broad chest, the black fabric of his t-shirt straining as his muscles bunch. His dark eyes stay locked on mine, not wavering from my face, so I start to slowly unbutton my jacket. It takes only two buttons popping free before his eyes betray him and follow the path as my fingers travel down to pry each button loose.

With satisfaction, I see the moment his breath hitches when I shrug off the jacket to reveal tonight’s attire. His eyes morph into dark pools of lava as they roam over the black and purple lace barely covering my skin. It really leaves nothing to the imagination. The bra has no other purpose but to show the dark pink flesh of my nipples, and the G-string’s front is narrow, barely covering my hungry little Kitty. I wonder if he can see how wet the thin scrap of lace is between my legs? Maybe I should just take it off now? The damn thing will only get in the way.

“The Master chose well for you tonight.” Brock’s words are like an ice bath.

“He did.” My voice cracks a little as I reply.

Shit. Did he notice?

When Brock’s brows furrow, I slam my façade back in place and seductively slide my hand down over my hip, where the lacy suspender belt sits. Like magic, his frown vanishes, and he’s back to ogling me.

Good boy.

“Well, Kitten. You shouldn’t keep him waiting. He asked me to remind you that you need to make time for him this evening.” Reaching out his strong hand, Brock takes my jacket from me and turns to place it in the cloakroom. Yes, there is a fucking cloakroom inside Vixen’s Lodge. Victoria and Terence Hill spared no expense when they built this Colonial styled mansion on the outskirts of Fox Pines. Settled securely behind a pine plantation and away from prying eyes, Vixen’s Lodge looks big enough to house three families, yet only two people live here. If it weren’t for what they call their ‘Feast Nights’, then this house would remain very empty.

“We’ll see.” I grin at Brock as I step in front of the mirror to confirm that I’m put together properly. My nearly black eyes stare back at me in the full-length mirror, but I don’t see the me that my foster parents see or the me that my friends see. I see Kitten. The plaything for the Feasters. Not that I mind. I fucking love it. Kitten has power within these walls. She allows me to take everything I need, with the discretion of anonymity.

“I like how you’ve incorporated purple in tonight’s mask.” Brock comes to stand behind me, his towering height making my 5’8” look short.

I grin, shifting my eyes back to my reflection and the colours that adorn the skin of my face. A strict rule of Vixen’s Lodge Feast Nights is that you must have on a painted or wrapped head mask. These parties are exclusive to select membership, and all members must remain anonymous. Master and Madam Hill are the only people who know who the members really are. But given Brock’s security role, I wouldn’t be all that surprised if he, too, knows each masked Feaster that walks through these doors.

As for me? I always paint my mask on. My style, and what all the Feasters recognised me for, is Sugar Skull Kitty. Meow.

I love making me, not look like me. I’m good at it too. I’ve found a real passion for creating different looks with makeup. It’s just a pity I can’t share my little skill with anyone else. If I did, I’d risk someone recognising Kitten and potentially out myself and possibly expose the Feast nights. Since I’m only seventeen, a fact that Madam and Master are well aware of, I can’t take the chance of ruining the one place I can be myself. Not only will that end badly for The Hill’s, but every member of the Feast nights as well.

Even though I’m a more than willing participant, I’m still classed as a minor. Boo! The thing is, no one my age has a sexual background like I do. Sure, my friends and even the irrelevant arseholes I go to school with know I act slutty, but they don’t know the half of it.

“Kitten.” Brock’s warm breath floats over my ear, drawing my attention back to him. “It’s time to go inside. I’ll be waiting to escort you home later.”

Oh yeah. I’m totally going to ride his gear stick tonight.

With one last glance at my near-naked reflection, I flick my long dark hair off my shoulder and kiss the air with my purple lips before turning to the door that leads into the cocktail lounge. My heels click with each step on the polished timber floors. It’s actually something I love, just as much as turning up late. I like to make an entrance, you see.

Hey everyone! Pay attention! Kitten is in the house!

One of the reasons I prefer to arrive later than most guests at the Feast is because I hate the awkwardness that comes with the beginning of these nights. When everyone is nervous, and they make idle chit chat before Madam Vik announces that the Feast is ready. I’m not here to chit chat. I’m not here to talk about the weather or about who scored the best goal at the footy on the weekend. I’m here to fuck, and to be fucked. Plain and simple.

The cocktail lounge is empty, just as I knew it would be, and a shirtless waiter standing in the corner wearing a mask of his own stands taller the moment he sees me.

“Good evening, Kitten. Would you like a drink?”

I grin. They all know me here. They all love me here.

“Yes, please.” My purple lips stretch wider.

“Scotch and coke or straight into the Fireball shots?” The topless waiter’s eyes travel the length of my body as he speaks, and I let the satisfaction from that wash over me, boosting my confidence.

“You know me too well. Let’s jump straight into the Fireball’s tonight.”

“Done. Head on in, and I’ll get a tray ready for you.”

I like this waiter. Not only does he have a tempting ready to lick chest, but he has one of those voices that instantly makes a girl melt. I wonder if he’d like to join Brock and me later?

My Kitty purrs again in excited satisfaction, and I take a steadying breath before turning from the waiter and making my way to where all the action is. Rounding the corner, I open the door and step into another hall, instantly engulfed with the steady beat of the music as it flows in from the mouth of the passage at the other end. With it, my ears perk up at the sounds that only come from a sex fest. Moaning, cries of pleasure, slapping skin, and grunting. My body ignites like an accelerant thrown onto a fire, and I have to stop myself from running to the end of the passage like a desperate whore. The smell is intoxicating. Some people would find this sort of thing vile or sickening. But I’m a dirty bitch. I love it all. I need it all. It’s an all-consuming itch I need scratching. All. The. Fucking. Time.

In true Kitten style, I make sure my heels click loudly with each step, my heart pounding in my chest, desperate to find my high. As the soft amber hue of the room ahead gets closer, I stand taller and add extra sway to my hips, and just like I predict, when the room finally comes into view, all eyes land on me as I join the party.

What is usually the Hill’s large living room now resembles a roman orgy. Every surface has naked bodies joined in some way. Some people have slowed their thrusts to take me in, while others have stopped altogether, their eyes heating with a new desire.

I have arrived!

“Kitten! Darling! Oh, I’m so happy to see you!”

The excited yet regal voice comes from Madam Victoria, or Vik as she prefers. I find her instantly, her lily-white legs spread wide as the dark hair of a male Feaster bobs as he eats her out. Fucking lucky bitch. I need that. Like right now. My Kitty hisses at me, this time with impatience. She’s desperate.

With a confident grin and strut to match, I make my way deep into the room to approach Madam Vik. Her hand is clutched in the guy’s hair, keeping him in place between her legs. I kind of feel sorry for him. I’ve been there, done that, on many occasions, and I’m not a fan of Madam Vik’s flavour. Unlike the other females I’ve done the alphabet on, Madam Vik is kind of bitter in taste. Not sweet like most other girls. So yeah, I know that guy will need to wash his mouth out when he’s done.

Madam Vik is going to want something from me tonight since I’ve been a no show for a while now. She won’t care for excuses, only action, and that action will most likely involve me pleasuring her. I’ll just have to convince her that she’d prefer my fingers rather than my tongue.

Even though the room has resumed fucking in full swing, many eyes remain on me, eager to see what their Kitten will get up to tonight.

“Madam Vik. You look delicious tonight.” It’s a straight-up lie. She doesn’t look tempting in any way to me. Sure, she is fucking hot for a nearly fifty-year-old woman, but she isn’t what I crave. She can’t scratch my itch.

“I can say the same to you. Come here, my darling, Kitten” She beckons me with a long claw-like fingernail, and I fight hard to keep a cringe from popping free. She needs to think I like her and crave her, otherwise, my time here won’t be as rewarding. Hell, the bitch can cut me off at any time. So please her, I must.

I step forward, ignoring the poor dark-haired soul who’s munching on her snatch, and lean over Madam Vik to give her the kiss she’s waiting for. As our lips touch, I remind myself why I’m here and why I have to play this role that I loathe in order to find my fix.

Her lips are soft but not smooth, and when her tongue pushes past my closed lips, anger bubbles up inside me. It’s not because I don’t expect madam to do this. Of course, I do. She’s a hungry bitch, and she takes what she wants. No, I’m angry because, just like a traitor, my body ignites, wanting anything she has to give, even though my mind doesn’t want this. I hate this part about myself. Why am I so desperately needy that I’d take just about anything?

I should be pissed off that the rules don’t apply to Madam Vik or Master Hill. While everyone is here because they want to have sex, it is basic etiquette and a rule that you must ask permission to engage in or join any action. We are all free to refuse, and as a rule, it’s asked once only. If you’re refused, then you must move on. You’re not guaranteed sex with someone else. But Madam Vik and Master Hill don’t follow the same set of rules. After all, it’s their good graces that allow us into their home and put them at risk for any illegal activity that may happen. That illegal activity is me.

I moan into Madam Vik’s mouth, giving her and everyone else the show they ache for. Then, while in the character of the horny Kitten that loves Madam Vik, I pull back abruptly, as if I’m so turned on that I’m going to lose control if I don’t stop. Another fucking lie. I deserve an award for my acting skills.

“Oh, Kitten. I can see how much you need to be touched. Let me do that for you.”

Shit! Damn! Crap! I do need to be touched, but not by her. Not by the old dragon herself! I have to do this, though. Once I get this over and done with, then I can go off and fuck anyone and everyone I want for the next three hours. I need to be touched so fucking bad, preferably by someone who owns a dick. I need a good dicking. Really! Fucking! Bad! I’ll just give Madam Vik what she wants and then block it out. It will be quick. My Kitty is desperately clawing at me now, so I gotta suck it up and dive in.

Preparing myself to let Madam Vik touch me, I watch as her face contorts into a frown, and her glare nearly drills a hole into the head that’s practically suffocating between her legs. “I didn’t tell you to stop, boy! Use your fingers too. Four of them. I want to come on your hand and tongue while I lick our Kitten’s body.”

Fucking hell, that poor guy. He’s gonna need to be resuscitated. Madam Vik is hard to get off. It’s a lot of fucking work making her come. She’s been doing orgies for so long that she has de-sensitised herself, and getting her off takes a fucking village. In fact, by me joining in, I’ll probably help the guy drowning in her bitter Micky juice. I can’t even see his eyes behind that leather mask with the way Vik’s legs are engulfing him. He needs saving!

“Where would you like to lick me, Madam?” I purr, gaining her attention again.

She bites her bottom lip and pulls a face that I think is meant to be sexy, but it’s fucking not. It’s cringy. That’s what it is.

“Bring me those perky titties. Let Madam Vik suckle them.”

Ok, so I like dirty talk and all. Actually, I fucking love dirty talk, but that is not dirty talk. That is cringy as all fuck, yet my pussy purrs with eagerness, and I find myself straddling her waist, careful to not disrupt the four-finger Vik fucker behind me.

Looking down over Madam Vik, I arch my back and push my chest forward, hovering a nipple over her mouth.

“Suckle away, Madam.” I hum, trying not to gag at my own words. After tonight, I’ll need a lobotomy.

Vik doesn’t waste another second. Using one hand, she hooks her finger into the black and purple lace and peels it down before her tongue darts out to flick over my pebbled nipple. That’s all it takes. That one flick of her tongue, and I’m hers. Fuck it. I’m too easy. But I’m also starved for this. For anything. I need this like I need to breathe. I’m chasing this high in desperation.

Throwing my head back, I grind my hungry Kitty over the soft flesh of Vik’s tummy, making contact with her navel piercing. My moan is audible in the room, floating up to dance with the other moans of ecstasy in the large space. Her lips latch onto me, suckling just like she said, and I feel her rotating her hips under me, seeking her own release as the guy between her legs keeps working like a slave.

Hang in there, buddy. I’m here to help!

As Vik sucks on one nipple, her other hand slides down my front, her fingers expertly finding my pulsing clit, and with gentle pressure, she rubs in circles.

“Yes.” I purr, just the way she likes, and she moans over my nipple.

As I grind against her fingers, I notice her clamping tighter on my nipple. It stings a little, but I’m not going to stop her because she’s about to come, and that poor guy between her legs needs a fucking break.

Gliding both my hands over Vik’s shoulders, I drag them down to her nipples and start tweaking them. Then she releases my pink pebbled flesh and screams her ecstasy, gaining everyone’s attention in the room. Not that they care, but they all know that if we don’t give her attention, then she’ll end the night early.

When she finally quietens down and notices I haven’t come, she quickly catches her breath.

“Cass! Clean up your hands and grab a quick drink, then come back here and help me with Kitten.”

I can feel someone shift behind me. Cass, the poor soul who nearly suffocated between Madam Vik’s legs, deserves a fucking gold medal for what he just had to do.

“I can get myself off while you watch if you like, Madam?” I purr, and she smiles with satisfaction.

I really don’t want her touching me again. I’m still straddling her, and all I want to do is swing my leg off and go to the back corner, where I think I spotted Moxie riding someone’s dick. She’ll be more than happy to let me join them.

Vik smiles, “Oh, I know. You have shown us many a time how you like to fondle yourself. But we have missed you, Kitten. I think you need a reminder of how much you like it here so you don’t go AWOL again.”

I didn’t go AWOL, but I’m not about to have that conversation with her or even think about why I hadn’t turned up here in a while. Those memories have no place in this house.

“I have missed coming here, Madam. I’m so happy to be back. My Kitty is soooo hungry.” I turn my voice into a child’s tone, and Vik’s eyes flare. Sick bitch likes that.

Her hands wander up and down the front of me, pinching a nipple, teasing my clit, running a finger over my wet folds only to drag it away again. Fucking tease. I need to come. I need to get this shit with Vik over with already so I can go and party.

“Cass, help me, will you, darling?” Vik drawls to the guy standing behind me between her legs. I feel his warm hands settle on each hip before they start a journey over my skin as if committing it to memory. I close my eyes, loving the feel. This is what I want. A man. Strength. Dominance.

Warm lips press to my shoulder from behind as he snakes his hand around my front to cup my breast, while the fingers on his other hand seek out the wet heat between my legs. Instantly, I’m putty in his hands. My eyes stay shut in an attempt to remove myself from the part of this situation that involves Madam Vik underneath me, running her hands up and down my legs. Instead, I focus on the lips travelling up my neck. The fingers pushing the lace cup of the bra aside to glide over my nipple. The other fingers now slipping beneath the lace fabric of my G-string to delve between my Kitty’s lips. Then two thick fingers slowly sink inside, giving me a little stretch, my moan loud as I reach back over my shoulder, tugging at the back of the guy’s neck, needing him closer to me.

For a few minutes, he works at building my pleasure, his fingers sinking deep while the heel of his palm grinds against my clit. Fuck yes, this is what I need. I’m so close to coming. I can almost taste it.

“Cass. Do what you did to me. Eat her and fuck her with your fingers.”

I’m in a lust daze. I hear Vik’s words, but they don’t register until the stretch of the fingers slip free, leaving me lonely and desperate. My eyes pop open right before I’m lifted off Vik and placed on the sofa next to her.

My position now mimics Vik’s, and I can see her rubbing her own pussy as she watches on. I drag my eyes away from that, because ew, and take in the naked guy standing before me. His cock is so fucking pretty. Like, oh my lord, he is an actual God sent down to impale me on that thing of beauty. Not a foreskin in sight, just straining veins and thick girth that matches the longer than average length. I’m practically drooling.

I can feel my long dark hair fanning out under me, some of which is draping over the front of my shoulder, covering one breast and falling past my belly button. It’s long and annoying, but the Feasters here seem to like it. Master Hill especially likes it. A very strict rule he issued me: I am to always wear it down.

Suddenly, the cock of beauty disappears as the God-like guy kneels between my legs, and Vik’s clawed hand grabs my chin, turning me towards her.

“Are you ready to come, my Kitten?”

I nod, my chin still clasped in her hand as she directs her eyes to the guy.

“Do what you do best, Casanova.”

My eyes widen at the name, right as the delicious sensation of a warm tongue flicks over my clit. Vik is too busy watching the action between my legs to notice my expression, and I’m helpless to fight how fucking out of this world it feels. Even though I’m too scared to look at the guy’s face to see if I recognise him, my pleasure builds so blindingly that I’m not sure I care who owns that tongue.

Then I dare to look at the leather masked face between my legs right as three fingers fill me, giving me an aching stretch. I moan and push forward, desperate to swallow his fingers, the noise gaining his attention. It’s then that familiar steel-grey eyes collide with mine. I’d know those eyes anywhere. No one else has eyes the colour of Fox Pines Catholic’s Spanish Casanova.

Those eyes widen, and time slows as he lifts his head, his lips glistening in my Kitty juice.

“Rhys?” It’s a whisper, so only I can hear it.

“Shaun?” I mouth, not willing to let my voice be heard.

“Don’t stop, Cass!” Vik hisses. “Make her come. We look after our little Kitten here, and you will not stop until you make her purr.”

With his fingers still buried deep inside me, he hooks them and starts to rub over my upper wall. Then, he fucking grins.

“Yes, Madam Vik. I would love to make our Kitten purr.”

My eyes widen as his mouth returns to my needy Kitty, and he laps at me, working me from the inside so intensely that a moment later, I explode.

© 2022 SARAH JD

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