The Debt

Renee awoke, but not with a start. It was a soft, emerging sense of consciousness, and she was only vaguely aware of the faint smile on her face. She had been curled up on her side, and stretched out to all 5'2" of herself. It was then that she became aware of not being fully covered by the... blanket? She felt for it and cracked an eye open. She was covered only by a t-shirt draped over her; she was on an unfamiliar couch in an unfamiliar place, and in that sleepy place of muddy memory, her heart skipped a beat.

Then the 19-year-old remembered. Yesterday, she had received the phone call which announced she had been unceremoniously evicted from her apartment. An acquaintance from work—a man old enough to be her father—had offered his spare bedroom for a night or two. Renee accepted, and in the comfort of his home she had tried to repay the kindness by using her hand on him. But he desired more, and he took more. Awaking on the couch, Renee ran a hand over her rear end. The cheeks still felt a bit sore from where she had been spread open. Where he had taken her small, puckered tightness.

Renee shuddered, the soft, lazy curves of her body moving. For a moment, the memory of last night made her feel violated. Then she reminded herself that though she had almost told him to not take her there, she had felt his desire. She had felt her burning instinct to please. She had ultimately asked him for it, with her own creamy, high voice. She had been left a sweaty, panting mess, and had fallen asleep on the couch right after quickly cleaning herself.

The living room was bright with early morning light. She sat up, the t-shirt sliding off of her quite large breasts, her wavy brown hair tussled yet reaching her shoulders nonetheless. She looked around the impressive yet restrained living room. She was alone, and the apartment was very quiet. Renee felt out of place, yet had to do something. Her wallet and phone were in the spare bedroom; the only set of clothes she had with her was in the washer, waiting to be dried. There seemed to be only one thing to do: she stood, grabbed the t-shirt and the green panties left tangled from the night before, and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She wished she could stay under the hot water forever. It was a safe place where all the questions in her head did not need answering.

Yet the time came where she needed to get out of the shower, and after she shut the water off and started to dry herself, she became aware of another sound: that of frying. The pleasant curve of her tummy let out a grumble, and Renee became aware for the first time since waking up that she was hungry. She put on the borrowed t-shirt and panties again, and sheepishly made her way into the hallway.

"I'm in the kitchen, Renee!" His voice was deep yet cheery, and Renee felt herself relax. She turned the corner to see him standing at the stove, his back to her. The smell of bacon filled the air.

"Um, hi. Good morning," she said sheepishly, unsure how to proceed.

He turned, his smile wide. "Good morning, you! Did you sleep well?" He opened his arms wide but did not walk forward. He was silently asking for a hug, but letting her decide. Renee felt her body step forward, into his arms. She pressed her head into his chest, feeling his warmth, hearing his heartbeat, loving the feeling of protection as his arms closed around her. Then she felt him pat her rear end. He repeated his question. "Did you sleep well, Renee?"

She nodded, and the hug broke. "Yes, I did. Thank you."

"Breakfast is almost ready." He motioned to the table and added plainly, "Sit down."

A minute earlier, Renee's every intention was to get properly dressed, make her morning-after exit, and figure out the next step now that she was without her own apartment. Now, she was sitting down at his first say so. She sat there, feeling her hunger rise as he silently cooked, his back to her. She felt the silence pressing against her, and found her fingers fiddling with a napkin. It did little to help, and she felt she couldn't formulate in her mind what to say next. Uncertainty flooded her.

Then he was turning around. "Eggs and bacon, just for you." He put two plates on the table; Renee noticed she had extra bacon on her plate. She looked up at him, and he smiled at her. "Something tells me you're a bacon fan," he said earnestly. Barely conscious of the action, Renee's hands moved to tug at the waist of her t-shirt. Her curves made it tight at the tummy. Then he was sitting and said plainly, "So, let's eat."

Renee found the meal simple yet wonderfully delicious. There were a few moments of idle chitchat, and she felt herself once again relaxed and in the moment. Then she cleared her throat and said in a small voice, "After breakfast... I guess I'll throw my clothes in the dryer and be on my way. I appreciate that you let me stay here last—"

He interrupted here with a wave of the hand. "I want you to understand a few things, Renee. One, you may leave whenever you want. If that is what you want. Two, you may stay here as long as you want. Days, weeks, however long it takes for you to get on your feet again. As long as you want, so long as you help out and follow the rules." Renee smiled, feeling relief wash over her. He continued. "What happened last night... it was incredible, it was lovely. It's not the reason I am offering. More doesn't need to happen." Then he repeated, "You just need to carry your weight around here and follow my rules."

Renee blushed at the word "weight." Underneath the table, her fingers were fidgeting with the napkin again. She wondered how he could make his little words tweak her out of the blue.

"Do you agree, Renee?"

She nodded.

He asked again. "Do you agree, Renee?"

She closed her eyes and realized that her fidgeting had stopped. "Yes," she said plainly. "I agree."

He smiled at her, and she thought she sensed for a moment the smile of a cat who's caught the canary. "Excellent. Now here's what is going to happen.You're going to give me the address of your old apartment; I get your possessions and bring them here. Then you're going to put those clothes I've leant you," he motioned to her borrowed t-shirt and panties, "into the wash, and move your things into the dryer." He smiled again, knowingly. "Then you're going to come back here and finish your breakfast."

Renee's heart skipped a beat. Surely she had missed something... did he mean...? "But then I'll be... naked."

He nodded, and took her address. She walked away into the laundry room, and he was aware that everything hinged on the next few moments. She was, after all, very free to leave—if she chose that. He heard the dryer start, and took a breath, calming himself. Then he heard the slow, tentative pat-pat of her feet, slowing down as she came closer and closer to the kitchen...

Then the 19-year-old was in the room, resplendent in her nakedness, her large breasts looking heavy and perfect, her nipples pink and hard, her aureolas faint and broad. Her hands fiddled at her midsection, though when Renee caught his glance, she immediately stopped. Her hands ran down her hips, as though she was absentmindedly smoothing a skirt that wasn't there. She stared at the floor, feeling his eyes on the pout of her tummy, the soft divot of her belly button. She knew he was looking lower too, his eyes inspecting her soft, plump mound. She knew it was perfectly hairless, just as it seemed older men very much preferred it. She started to wonder why men liked it like—

"Sit, Renee."

She did, returning to her seat at the table, looking at the napkin holder for a place to focus. She felt hyper aware of every inch of her body: the jiggle of her breasts, the cool chair against her rear end, the tablecloth just whispering against the edge of her tummy. There was silence for a moment—for more than a moment. Renee was usually one to want to break a silence; her youthful vivacity would normally fight against the quiet. But there, at this older man's kitchen table, naked as the day she was born... she felt only a growing calm. She felt that she fit here, that it all fit. The realization washed over her like a soft, warm breeze.

Renee looked at him, and realized that he had been staring at her, a half smile on his face. She blushed and could not help but smile back. He softly said, "I'm going to go get your things. Feel free to explore the apartment." He stood, and added, "I trust you." She took the trust seriously, feeling terribly important.

In his absence, she padded around the apartment on naked feet, looking to know him better. She decided that everything had a sense of muted control: pictures of him with... family?... were understated and showed little sentimentality. Decorations here and there seemed to be special and vaguely exotic, but none screamed of ostentatiousness.

Before Renee knew it, there was the sound of the front door unlocking. She froze, wondering if it could be anyone but him—but then he was through the door, closing it. He had three black garbage bags under one arm; they were obviously bursting with some of her clothes and toiletries. In the other hand was a small, white bag. He motioned to the black bags as he put them in the hall closet. "These are some of your essentials. We can sort them out later. The rest is in my storage area in the garage." She nodded, feeling vaguely surprised that she was not to get dressed now, nor to unpack. When his back was turned to the closet, her hands fidgeted in front of her tummy. She had to force her hands at her side when he was finished.

There still was the matter of the small white bag. He picked it up off the floor and handed it to her. "This is for you. Something to wear. Something you've earned since you're such a good little girl."

He handed her the bag and motioned over to the couch. They sat, and Renee couldn't help but feel excited and ladylike, despite her nudity. She pulled a box out; it was a square about six inches wide. She looked up at him, her eyes big, his mouth smiling. She opened it and felt... slightly confused.

Renee's first reaction was that it must be a small, odd stuffed animal. She saw the brown and black striped fur, feeling soft and artificial... but it seemed to lack shape. She picked it up and felt a weight at the end. That weight was smooth. It looked to be an extended oval, and made of glass. The length of fur unfolded while she held the glass, and her eyes grew big with realization. What had he given her to wear? What had she earned for being so good?

She was holding a butt plug with a silky cat's tail descending from it. She wasn't sure what to do, but his hand moved through her hair. She looked at him, at his proud grin. He spoke. "You are, after all, my good kitten." He added casually, "Aren't you?"

The naked girl blushed, only able to nod. He patted his lap, motioning for her to lay across his legs. She did so, feeling the weight of her body on his. Feeling the hardness between his legs pushing back. A hardness that, she realized, that was caused by her.

Again, he put a hand through her hair. "Spread yourself, kitten." She reached back, her fingers grasping at her large rear end. Renee buried her face into the pillow as she pulled herself open, exposing her asshole to him. She felt a small amount of a cool liquid touch her there. She quietly gasped—she had no idea he had lube with him. Then he kissed her on the head and whispered, "Are you ready?" She nodded. She was ready to be his kitten.

The end of the glass plug pressed against her. He pushed slowly, twisting ever so slightly. She bit her lower lip and held her breath, not wanting to show off any discomfort. He pushed further and she felt the urge to squirm, the desire to grunt from the feeling of being filled up, more and more filled up and stretched and violated—

And then... it was in her. Renee's body pulled the widest part of the plug deeper as her hole closed around the more narrow end. She let out a high cooing sound as she felt the end of the plug, with its furry base, touch her cheeks. Renee closed her eyes against the pillow, feeling her body adjust. Feeling her mind adjust. She felt low and base and obscene. She wasn't complaining one bit.

Renee had another rising feeling: the musky urge to please him, the primal drive for her to offer girlish pleasures to the hardness pressing into her tummy. She removed her hands from her ass, feeling the plug and the tail press even more snugly into the rest of her body. Yes, she thought, this kitten needs to be on the floor.

She pushed herself up, letting her large breasts hang and catch his gaze. She slid down, barely noting the familiar sensation of her knees touching carpeting. What was new was the soft tingle of her new tail sliding down her leg, then crudely hanging from between her plump cheeks. She looked up at him, her eyes large and lust-filled. He said nothing, and her hands jumped to his belt, undoing him quickly. She then hungrily pulled at his zipper, feeling the expensive pants move with her hand. Then her soft, small hand was moving inside his boxers, feeling, moving, tugging, pulling out.

Renee could not help but gasp and smile at the sight. His cock was hard and thick. She leaned forward, pressing her tongue to the base of his cock. Her chin paused for a brief moment against his warm balls. She slowly licked upward, feeling the dribble of precum grow against her tongue. She moaned, not from the taste, but from the way it made her feel confident. She had always been good at having a man's cock on her lips, and she knew it.

The girl licked up his shaft then pressed her lips against the head. She luxuriated in giving it warm, wet kisses; she hoped those kissed would show as much caring emotion as lust. She moved her face around, spreading her little kisses, letting her tongue slide out and move along his pulsing head. In the past, this was a teasing, sloppy trick that had always worked with other boys and men. She looked up at him, expecting to see him reveling in her skills.

Instead, he looked merely amused. He ran a hand through her hair, an action which was increasingly making her feel appreciated, if not loved. In a sweet yet chastising voice he said, "Now I know you're a better cocksucker than this." The words felt crass to her, yet true. She was good, and she knew it. But she felt his hand on the back of her head. He pressed, not sharply but firmly, against her head. He drew her mouth onto his cock. She let him: she made her lips tight and tongue wide against the underside of his cock. Her hands went to his hips as she steadied her elbows on the couch. She closed her eyes, concentrating on him, feeling him, listening for him.

He let out a groan, and Renee she was pleased by the knowledge that she was doing it as he liked. She moved her mouth over him, and her body moved along with it. The plump girl had a passing thought that ordinarily, she wouldn't want to be seen naked like this. She would want her body covered, or the room to be dark. As she felt him move a lazy thumb over her cheek, stroking her face, she realized she did not care.

She pressed her mouth down more, feeling him fill her mouth and press against her throat. She forced herself to keep calm, to fight the urge to pull up. She needed him to know, really know, she was good at this. He let out a contented sigh as he stroked her hair again, and she knew it was time to speed things up.

Renee moved her hands off of his hips, pressing them to the floor. She felt a dark shiver: with her hands and knees on the floor, and the plugged tail lewdly sticking out of her ass, she felt an animal. She felt his like kitten. She raised her mouth off of the base of his shaft. She kept her lips tight and started to girlishly bob her head up and down, concentrating on the top half of his cock. She felt her fingernails rub against the carpeted floor. He couldn't see it, but it added to her mental message. That's right, she hoped to say with her wide eyes as she looked up at him. No hands needed.

Her mouth—her desire to live up his expectation of her being a great cocksucker—was clearly having an effect. His eyes grew heavy, his breath short. Without even meaning, Renee started to grunt a bit with each bob of her head, needing him to cum. She could hear his breath getting very jagged now, and she kept her speed up. Her body jiggled and moved and she did not care. Her focus was him, his cock, his pleasure.

"Such a... beautiful babygir—" His dark voice was interrupted by a loud, guttural groan. She felt the cock in her mouth swell, then swell more and explode. Renee closed her eyes, concentrating on the bliss of feeling the hot liquid in her mouth. It was the bliss of having been a good girl. She concentrated on calming herself enough to swallow his seed. After all, she had learned a long time ago that good girls do not leave a mess. He moaned again and his body clenched; a smaller spurt came out, and Renee dutifully swallowed again. She tried to pull her head up a bit, but realized that he was tightly grabbing a fistful of hair. It wasn't mean to hurt her; it wasn't meant to hold her. It was simply him reaching out in pleasure. Pleasure, she proudly mused, that she had caused.

Soon enough he started to soften, and his grip fell away. Renee gave one more suckle of his tender cock, causing him to sharply sigh in sensation and pleasure. She leaned back, sitting against her heels. She was aware of the tail resting softly against her ankle, and she realized that she liked it.

She smiled, her lips glistening from his precum, but not a drop of his seed wasted. Her naked curves glistened from sweat, and she realized how very happy she felt at that moment. His mature, hazy smile made the 19-year-old feel contentment. She wondered if she wondered if she would ever lose the feeling she had right at that moment.

The older man stroked her hair one more time as he smiled down at her. "I think I'm going to like getting to know you, my darling little kitten."

*****

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