Corrupting Katie Ch 05

Dear Diary,

I decided to take the old man up on his offer, no matter how disgusting he is. I just needed his permission to touch myself and then I would be on my way. I wore my favorite dress, my cutest shoes, and even did my makeup so I would look super pretty. For the life of me, I don't know why I did it, but I did.

When I arrived to his house, the living room was devoid of couches or a TV (which I thought was weird). In their place were three tables in a U formation. There were twelve chairs on the outside of the U. The tables were just close enough that anyone could reach into the center of the U and high five someone on the other side. I don't know why this worried me, but it very much did.

The old man greeted me and told me I looked like a good little slut. I tried to correct him, but he embraced me tightly, molesting my tight little ass and letting his tongue swim in my mouth. When I finally pushed him away (which took a few seconds) I told him I just wanted permission to masturbate. He dismissively told me we'd figure that out later. He said that the guests would be arriving any moment.

I started to ask him what he meant by that, but as if on cue the doorbell rang. He told me to go answer the door, giving me a slap on the ass as I walked away. I whimpered as I walked to the door. Nothing could prepare me for what happened next, though.

Eleven men came into the house, each one fatter, older, and more disgusting than the one before him. They all took turns pulling me into a tight embrace. They all felt my little titties, groped my taut ass, and some even stroked my tiny little pussy. All of them kissed me, letting their tongues explore every inch of my mouth. I hated every second of it. They passed me around among them. Their hands explored every inch of me. Once they had all taken a turn, they went again, all of them taking a second turn but a few helping themselves to a third kiss and grope session.

The old man laughed heartily at my molestation. Once they'd had their fill, he welcomed them inside. They all sat in the chairs around the U-shaped table. "This is Katie. While we have our monthly poker game, she'll be bringing us drinks and refreshments. Isn't that right Katie?"

I stammered and started to object. "That's not why I came here!"

The fat old man nodded in his seat. "That's right gentlemen. Katie here has come to ask my permission to be able to masturbate. That's because she's a dirty little slut. Aren't you Katie?"

I murmured that I wasn't a slut, but the possibility of that was starting to sink in. After all, if I wasn't, why would I keep finding myself in these situations? I started to protest the sheer indignity of this but the men started shouting drink orders at me.

At that point, I went to the kitchen and started fixing drinks for the disgusting old men. Then it occurred to me. If I was going to set boundaries and ground rules, the time to do so was now. I brought the men their drinks. While I walked around the center of the U distributing drinks, the men groped and pawed at me. Finally, I stood at the center of the U.

"Excuse me sirs..." I had to stop to push a wrinkly old hand off my inner thigh. "...I don't know what you thought would be happening tonight." I pushed a hand from my tit. "I'm not going to let you grope me." I pushed a hand from my ass cheek. The hands were becoming my frequent. "I'm a good girl. I'm a virgin who's saving herself for marriage. AH!" I pushed a hand away from my panty clad pussy, which had just been squeezed. "I'm not going to let you..." What happened next absolutely floored me. In a flash a pair of scissors appeared and a shred of my dress was floating to the floor. I looked at my dress, crestfallen. I objected. "AH! This is my favorite dress! Please don't cut it into little ribbons like that!" I looked up with tears in my eyes as another old hand snaked itself up my dress and grasped my panty clad ass. "Please...I'll serve you your drinks, just please don't ruin my dress."

The man from the train laughed jovially. I turned to face him. "My little Katie," he announced "you aren't here to serve drinks. You're here to be the entertainment. I'll take a rum and soda, by the way." I got a slap on the ass when I walked away.

I figured that was how the evening would go. That is how it started. Hands explored every inch of me. Occasionally, a dirty old man would grab my long silky hair and pull me in for a gross kiss. It shook me to the core how only a few weeks ago I had never been kissed and no man had ever touched me. Now every inch of me was an all you can grope buffet. How did it come to this?

Soon the men got bolder. More and more shreds of my dress were cut off with the scissors, or simply torn off by the hands that explored me. Soon my beautiful favorite dress was just a sad memory, and I was reduced to wearing my bra and panties. This was when the old men got really excited. A few of them were already stroking their long hard cocks from under the table. I whimpered softy every time I saw one.

It happened in an instant. Several men grabbed me. Soon the men had all risen from their seats. I was in an ocean of hands, my little panties and my bra torn away from me. The gross old men were all naked, their cocks out and their hungry eyes drinking in my defenseless naked body. I begged them not to fuck my little pussy, but the old man from the train approached me and pressed his dick against my slit. "Please, I'm still a virgin!" I begged. But then he started to push into me. Deeper and deeper, my little maidenhead shredded to pieces, my first time robbed from me like my first kiss had been.

Before long, he began to thrust in and out. As he did, he began getting deeper and faster until his enormous cock slammed painfully against my cervix. It hadn't even occurred to me what he might be doing until he groaned that he was going to cum. "NO!" I shouted. "You can't cum inside me! I'm not on protection! I might get pregnant!"

These pleas fell on deaf ears. He thrust deep inside me, until he spasmed, filling me with his cum, splashing it all over my cervix. I was at a loss, having just cum myself. I hardly had time to catch my breath until the next old man fucked me. He also pumped in and out of me while I begged for him to stop. All this time, orgasms rolled over my body. He also filled me with his cum. Then the next man. And the one after him. And the one after him.

All this time, hands groped my breasts, teased my nipples, choked me with fingers, massaged every inch of my eighteen-year-old skin.

It was so gross.

But more to the point, by the time I was done each man had taken two or three turns. I just envisioned my poor defenseless little ovum attacked by millions and millions of old man sperm. By the time the old man dropped me off at my house stark naked it had been hours.

Oh Diary, what am I going to do if I'm pregnant with an old man's baby?

Dear Diary,

The old man from the train showed up at my school and pulled me suddenly into an old janitor's closet. He pulled my panties down and stuffed them in my mouth. Then he bent me over and fucked my pussy. He filled my pussy with his seed again. Before he left, he took the panties from my mouth and put them in his pocket. I had to finish the whole rest of my college classes with no panties on and his cum dripping down my leg.

Dear Diary,

The old man pulled me into the men's room and work, pulled down my pants and panties, and fucked me raw again at work. He filled me with his cum and tore off my panties so that I would once again be commando with his baby batter seeping for my little snatch. I finished the rest of my shift with a damp spot on the crotch of my pants.

Dear Diary,

He pulled me into a back closet in church and had his way with me. Again, he filled my fertile garden with his seed. He kept my panties again too, leaving me with no underwear during church with his cock snot dripping out of me.

Dear Diary,

He took me in my bedroom. He kept my panties.

Dear Diary,

He had me at the college cafeteria. He kept my panties.

Dear Diary,

He fucked me at work again. He kept my panties.

Dear Diary,

I can't stop throwing up first thing in the morning.

Dear Diary,

My period is late.

Dear Diary,

I took a pregnancy test. I'm pregnant.

Dear Diary,

I didn't know what would happen when I told my parents that I was pregnant. It was worse than I could possibly imagine. They made me take them to the old man's house, then demanded he marry me. By the time the wedding came, he had found me out and around three more times and raped me. He kept my panties every time. On my wedding day, I wore a simple white dress, though my baby bump was starting to show. There must have been a hundred old geezers there eyeing me from head to toe. My parents, disgusted that I would get pregnant out of wedlock, just looked at me with disappointment. They would hear nothing of the fact that it was nonconsensual.

That was a few weeks ago. I've been living with the old man ever since (he still won't tell me his name). I'm stark naked almost all of the time. When there's someone coming over like a repair man, I'm allowed to wear an old t-shirt that comes to my knees. He told me I will never bee allowed to wear panties for the rest of my life. I eat out of a filthy dog bowl. I do all of the chores around the house. He takes me whenever he wants and however he wants. He makes me tell him how much I love him. The only thing keeping me going is knowing my baby son or daughter will be here soon. He's also started looking for another wife to keep me company. He's begun riding the train again.

Honestly, it's what I deserve.