Katie Takes Manhattan

"Katie Takes Manhattan"

by J. D. Savanyu

I'm cruising along with daddy on my summer break, tagging along into New York City for his big boring business convention. Resting my head on his strong shoulders in the leathery back seat of a car that costs even more than he's spending to put me through four years at Oxford. The lilting piano strains of Franz Lizst ooze through the high-powered speakers, reminding me of our wild incest-soaked week in Austria during my spring break five months ago. I'm madly in lust with my hot rich forty-something father, fucking him as often as possible until I finally knock some sense into myself (or he knocks it into me.)

"Which do you love more, daddy? Me, or your money?" I utter dreamily, gazing at the Manhattan skyline as we cross over to that island on the Triborough Bridge. (Fuck that "RFK Bridge" and 'Mario Cuomo Bridge" bullshit!)

"You, darling. But not by much," Roger replies slyly.

"I love your honesty, Mister Keofferam," I giggle.

"I'm a lying cheating hedge fund billionaire, but I never lie to my sexy daughter."

The driver in front clears his throat awkwardly and checks the GPS monitor. Daddy clears his throat a moment later, remembering that we have to avoid dropping any obvious clues about our secret illegal relationship.

"I can't wait to get to the convention, and deliver my keynote speech about Pinnacle's five year vision."

"You'll still be doing the same stock market shit five years from now... but I won't know what the hell to do after I graduate from Oxford with a useless history degree."

"I'll keep the back door wide open for you at my investment firm. Another underqualified 'woke' hire, always playing the gender card to get out of jail free."

The driver pulls off the highway and parades down East 48th street, passing the ugly headquarters of the incompetent United Nations. The streets of Manhattan are buzzing like a yuppie beehive on a warm Saturday afternoon. Lots of hot young ladies like me are flaunting the latest summer fashions from upscale boutiques, while scraggly homeless guys gaze up at them with abject longing.

"I can't wait to dive back into that witty cosmopolitan Sex and The City scene after hobnobbing with a bunch of stiff-upper-lip British blokes," I muse while passing the FAO Schwarz toy boutique.

"I'd love to see a British version of that crappy HBO 'classic,'" Daddy snickers.

A few minutes later, the driver finally stops in front of the Waldorf Astoria hotel on Park Avenue.

"Let's go freshen up in a swanky five star suite," Daddy beams. We grab our luggage and haul it through the gleaming lobby full of Japanese businessmen, eye-fucking me like a dolled-up anime Harujuku bitch. I give them a flirtatious wave as we enter a charming vintage elevator with a dial floor indicator. As soon as the doors close, I literally jump into Daddy's arms and kiss him passionately. Venting my intense erotic energy that was boiling up like a tea kettle ever since we left our Greenwich mansion two hours ago; delayed by a series of traffic jams on I-95. I pull back with a loud throaty gasp, getting nice and wet under my haute couture summer dress.

"Damn, Katie. Can't you wait just one more minute?"

"Fine, whatever," I mutter impetuously, feeling his dick getting hard against my yoga-toned belly. "I'll give you a great blowjob as soon as we get to the room. Blowing off steam so you'll be laser-focused on your stupid 'keynote speech.'"

"Fuck yeah, blondie. Just like your mother used to do," Roger grunts, smacking my yoga-toned ass through a $945 Zimmerman minidress. I wince slightly with the stinging sensation, and with the reminder of his ex-wife Leni. He met that gorgeous Austrian MILF when she was waitressing at a Vienna beer hall, and now she's galavanting around Europe on vacation with another sleazy billionaire. Kids always suffer the most after a divorce, no matter how much money they have for retail therapy.

Daddy keycards into a swanky penthouse suite with lots of fancy frenchy furniture, a fully loaded kitchen with a full liquor bar, and a great view of the Rockefeller Tower. Reminding me of our amazing erotic rendezvous in his corner office at 30 Rock last summer. He pounded my pussy against a picture window on the 69th floor while I gazed down at the iconic water fountain / ice rink next to a nude golden statue of Prometheus; stealing fire from the underworld.

I get naked in a flash and literally dive down on daddy's dick. Yanking that long dong out of his business pants and shoving it all the way into my mouth. (He taught me how to suppress my gag reflex after taking my virginity in our Greenwich hot tub on my eighteenth birthday.)

"Ohhh fuuuuuck," Roger growls toward a Waterford crystal chandelier near the skyline picture window. "Now I'm really in a 'New York State of Mind.'"

I giggle with a mouthful, twisting my head up and down his thick shaft at a moderate pace, working my slit in slow circles with my right hand. It feels twice as naughty knowing mommy did the same thing to him in this same hotel two years ago, while I slept in the adjacent bedroom.

"Suck my dick in the shower, bitch," he growls a minute later. I can't get enough of his macho white-collar dominator schtick.

"Fuck yeah, daddy. I'm your little aquaphile whore."

Roger picks me up and carries me into a luxurious Louis Quatorze-style bathroom, similar to the one at our mansion on the north shore of Long Island Sound. He strips bare, steps into a big marble tub, turns on the shower, and shoves me back down on my knees. Cool refreshing water pours all over my lean athletic body as I stroke his long wet penis with both hands.

"You better do a great job tonight, Mister Keofferam. Go out there and make another million at the billionaire convention, so your precious daughter can buy another Dolce and Gabbana bikini. I know how much those turn you on."

"Nothing but la dolce vita for you, you little brat. Get my dick back in your fucking mouth!"

I resume fellatio frantically, whipping my head back and forth on his massive manhood. Daddy moans ecstatically in the misty air, grabbing my shiny wet bangs and twirling them around like fake golden Barbie hair. We love 'making love' clandestinely in various other watery locations: pools, hot tubs, beaches, rain showers, and even under a waterfall at our private resort in the Maine mountains. Water has a nice primitive purifying effect on our minds, distracting us from the immorality and illegality of it all.

I masturbate just as hard with my left hand, quickly reaching an incredible orgasm. Squirting like a Super Soaker against his legs, screaming ecstatically with a mouthful of meat.

"Nice shot, blondie. Now I'm gonna blow a big one all over your fucking face."

He grabs my blonde hair with both hands and face-fucks me at full speed. Deep throating his submissive daughter like those brainless porn stars we both obsess over.

"I'm going for big bucks in the Big Apple. You're my good luck charm, you fucking big tit skank!"

He pulls out and blasts every square inch of my face with hot soothing jizz, roaring to the rafters. I open wide and stick my tongue way out, savoring another bitter reward.

"Nicer shot, daddy," I giggle girlishly, rubbing that stuff between my fingers. Loving the slick creamy sensation on my soft skin after enduring his rough treatment. "Feeling better now?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm buzzing like hell."

"All psyched up for your Rainbow Room rumble?"

"Ready to rumble in the concrete jungle. I'm gonna shake up the world."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Rainbow Room at Rockefeller Plaza is jam-packed with financial bigwigs, gathering for their annual stock market circle jerk. They all check out my hot bod while filing into their seats. Admiring my glittering rose red $895 Sachin & Babi evening gown and my Charlize Theron-esque face. They all want me, but they can't have me... at least yet.

Daddy's charismatic CMO "Buffalo" Bill Allen takes the stage, yammering on about how AI will greatly increase workflow efficiency on every trading platform. A few more of his underlings give "motivational" speeches that wouldn't even "motivate" R2-D2. Two unbearably long hours later, daddy storms onto the stage, leaping and fist-pumping like Elon Musk on crack. Roger Keofferam is such a stereotypical 1980's-style "Wolf of Wall Street" type, it's not even funny. Getting his hedge fund troops to hang on his every word like the next Sam Bankman-Fried. Encouraging his minions to maximize Pinnacle's profits by "massaging" other people's money through barely legal loopholes, and encouraging them to buy his latest "get rich quick" book at the nearest Barnes & Noble. ("Your Best Financial Future, NOW!" will only get him richer, QUICK!)

Daddy rants on and on about puts, calls, and "select sector spider funds" while shooting a few sly grins toward his sexy daughter in the front row. Everyone assumes he's been "playing the field" since divorcing that gorgeous blonde Austrian babe, but only we know the truth. I picture him fucking me roughly against the iconic art-deco Rainbow Room bandstand, getting spanked over and over. Then I picture riding his big dick cowgirl-style on the dance floor beneath that iconic crystal chandelier. Our incestuous affair is totally toxic, like the tip of a flaming poison arrow.

Roger winds up his closing speech with a loud call to "seize the day like the Dead Poet's Society, and keep crunching mad numbers like Good Will Hunting!" He leaves the stage even more maniacally than he arrived, whisking me out of my chair and leading me onto the dance floor. A vintage swing band fires up a lively rendition of "My Blue Heaven," and everyone gathers round as he twirls me like a third-rate Fred Astaire. I try my best to tag along like a drunk Ginger Rogers, flashing my pearly whites at hundreds of phone cameras. Such an exhilarating egotistical rush with taboo undertones. I keep swirling dreamily in that world-famous dinner club, making me wish I followed his footsteps into the rip-roaring American stock market instead of wasting time with history books in merry ol' England.

The Rainbow Room orchestra switches to "Someone to Watch Over Me," a slow romantic ballad. I rest my head on Roger's burly shoulders, sighing pleasantly.

"That was an amazing speech, daddy."

"Your extra 'motivation' really got my motor running," he replies slyly.

"I'll give you more 'motivation' any time you want."

"I'm gonna slap a hold recommendation on this prime mutual fund, if you catch my drift."

"You better not sell that fund till it's 'Grade A prime,'" I utter seductively. He laughs warmly and twirls me around like a princess at the royal ball. The song ends a few minutes later, and we wend our way toward the bar. He orders a glass of bubbly high-end champagne, but I'm only 19, so I order 7-Up.

"I've got a big surprise for you, honey," Daddy beams.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," I giggle.

"Let's go over there, where it's more private."

He leads me to a quiet corner of the Rainbow Room. I follow him nervously, loving that devious expression on his face. The orchestra plays "Mood Indigo," setting a mysterious mood.

"I'll cut right to the chase, baby. A bunch of guys from Pinnacle are throwing a masquerade orgy tonight. Wanna come?" he utters eagerly. "Pun intended."

"Oh my god," I murmur with a strange mix of shock and arousal. "Are you fucking serious?"

"What, did you think we were a bunch of stock market saints?"

"A fucking orgy, with your daughter? That's crazy, daddy!"

"Not with you, specifically. We'll just be in the same room, doing the same thing to other people. I know you've been screwing lots of random guys at Oxford, so what's the difference?"

"Those guys don't work for my father. And my father wasn't... with us when we were 'doing things.'"

"Please, Katie? I've been dreaming about this for so long, and so has everyone at Pinnacle. Including the girls. You always drive them crazy at our company cocktail parties, acting so damn slutty. Why don't you stop being a cockteaser, and give them a big party favor? An extra 'bonus' on top of their recent pay raise."

Damn, this is happening way too fast. My idealistic illusions about Roger Keofferam are crumbling like a sand castle at high tide. The Rainbow Room starts spinning in a jazz-fueled frenzy.

"I dunno, daddy," I utter so awkwardly.

"Come on, baby. It'll be tons of fun. And besides, you need to get out in the real world and mingle with some 'eligible bachelors.'"

Horniness quickly overpowers my rational mind, as it often does. "All right, all right. A masquerade orgy is at the top of my bucket list."

"Mine too. It'll be a great dirty memory to dwell on when you're hitting those dusty old books at the Bodleian Library."

"Hell yeah, you naughty CEO," I giggle sweetly. "But I didn't bring a mask along, and we don't have enough time to go shopping for one."

"There's a mask in my suitcase, and another one for you. That pink leather cat mask you wore last summer, with a matching bondage harness and fluffy tail."

I suddenly recall that little 'adventure' in vivid detail. I ordered that kinky pink costume from the dark side of the internet while he was working down at 30 Rock. Getting it rush-delivered to our sweet mansion in the swanky Greenwich suburbs. The look on his face when he got home was priceless. He put a pink leather dog collar on my neck and attached a pink leather leash, leading me around like a kinky housecat with my big tits and cute little pussy fully exposed. Then he whipped and fucked his naughty cat girl in the big basement dungeon where he used to dominate my mother.

"You little shit," I giggle girlishly. My true slutty nature always shines through, getting me in all kinds of trouble.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fifth Avenue shimmers like a fever dream on muggy summer night. We amble through a sea of tourists along the edge of Rockefeller Plaza, dwelling in fantasy mode just like them. They're just visiting this gleaming island of one-percenter delusions, but I've been wallowing in it as long as I can remember. My whole life has been leading up to this moment, but I was too sheltered and naive to realize my fate. I was destined to be a high class New York ho, like the next Paris Hilton. Now I'm just three blocks away from my grand "debutante ball."

"Buffalo" Bill Allen's condo looms high above 55th and 5th. Another long awkward elevator ride takes us to the fiftieth floor, with loud foreboding swing music emanating from the other end of the hall.

"I'm so nervous, daddy."

"Just relax and go with the flow, like you always do with me."

"One more kiss for good luck, Mister Keofferam," I snicker warmly, wrapping my arms around his muscular shoulders and kissing him tenderly.

"Get your game face on, Miss Keofferam."

"You too, Mister Keofferam."

Daddy puts on his ancient Egyptian Anubis mask with a black leather jackal snout and pointy ears over his face and head, and blue-and-yellow leather Pharaoh tassels draping down his neck.

"Hail Anubis, god of the afterlife," I giggle sweetly. Then I put on my own pink leather cat girl mask, making me feel so damn sexy.

"Hail Bastet, goddess of fertility," Daddy snickers, smacking my ass once again. Bill Allen greets us warmly at his front door, wearing nothing but a furry black bison mask. His dick points long and proud at my pussy while Sinatra's "Come Fly with Me" soars through his HD stereo speakers.

"Good evening, Mister Keofferam. Welcome to our little soiree. Your daughter is absolutely ravishing in that dress," Bill beams.

"Yes, indeed. She has her mother's beauty and brains," Roger replies while caressing my bare shoulders.

"Let's see how ravishing you are without that dress."

I step into Bill's living room, filled with twelve high-ranking members of Pinnacle Equity management, all wearing nothing but masks. Eight men and four women, plus me and daddy. I reluctantly take off my summer dress, with nothing underneath. Chief Operating Officer David Crenshaw sighs longingly toward my d-cup breasts, and chief financial officer Larry Baines sighs at my blonde crotch. The other female employees aren't nearly as pretty as me, but they're slutty enough to indulge in a wild masquerade fuckfest. Chief People Officer Lynn Hollub giggles beneath her brown horse mask and steps toward me. (Her title used to "Human Resources Director," before that term got demonized during the height of #MeToo mass hysteria.)

"Your daughter is simply beautiful, Mister Keofferam," Lynn beams. "We've heard all about her sexual 'grand tour' on her Facebook account."

I blush proudly, having shared many juicy tidbits about my Oxford love life on the web. Rich girls just can't help themselves, making everyone else jealous of how much money they have and how much dick they get.

"This slutty kitty loves to party," Daddy beams. "But she's a little nervous about this whole orgy thing. It's her first time," he lies convincingly, winking at me through the Egyptian jackal mask.

"Everyone's nervous their first time," Lynn utters sweetly, tenderly caressing my slender arms. "But once you get going, your inhibitions really fly away," she adds, with her hands sliding over my breasts. I gasp softly behind my stoic cat mask, surging with perverse erotic energy. Her other hand slides down over my pussy, making me gasp louder.

"Oh shit," I moan delightfully. I've never even kissed a girl before, or even wanted to... but her soft skin and flowery scent are so inviting. The anonymity of our masks makes it less intimidating, while Dean Martin starts singing "Ain't Love a Kick in The Head?" (It sure is!)

"How about a little girl-on-girl action to break the ice, kitty girl?"

"Fuck yeah, pony girl," I groan under my breath, with my eyes rolling toward daddy's Anubis mask. It blocks his true facial expression, but I'm sure it's just as awkward as mine. Lynn giggles sweetly, then she drops down on her knees on the plush purple carpet and buries her face in my carpet. Slobbering my throbbing teen pussy, making me feel so good.

I moan loudly toward the ceiling while everyone else lines up in front of a royal blue sofa and two matching love seats, stroking cocks and flicking clits while gazing at me creepily through various realistic animal masks. Bison, lion, zebra, bulldog, frog, tiger, wolf, eagle, cobra, alligator, deer, and german shepherd. I don't care who's who under those masks. I just need to get sucked and fucked like hell by a bunch of stock market sleazeballs. Greed for money and sex go hand-in-hand on a primal level, like Wall Street neanderthals.

That busty "chief people officer" nibbles on my clit, making me swoon. She reaches up and grabs my big boobs, framed by four straps of pink leather with little metal rings between.

"Harder, bitch! Squeeze my tits real good!" I bark out, assuming my usual assertive yet submissive character. She squeezes my soft pale hooters painfully hard, just the way I like it. My pussy gets wetter and wetter as her tongue keeps flicking and flicking my little pink pleasure center. Women are more communal and less emotionally inhibited by nature, so no wonder we're three times more likely than men to engage in homosexual activity. I just needed a little spark to blow up my dyke dam.

"See, I told you your inhibitions would fly right away," Lynn coos playfully, glancing up at my big blue eyes with a devilish grin on her full red lips.

"Oh shit. I need more, you fucking pony bitch!" I groan desperately.

"Later, pussycat. Right now, I know you're hungry for some man-meat."

"Oh god, yeah. Get those big dicks over here, boys!"

"Yes ma'am, Miss Kitty!" beams the well-hung wolf. Every man except daddy steps forward, circling around me on the floor with those tempting pricks sticking out. The green alligator guy grabs the pink straps on my cat costume and yanks me toward him. I suck his cock with my usual all-out enthusiasm, making him growl like a crocodile while Perry Como sings "Papa Loves Mambo."

"Get your ass over here, pussy," grunts the bulldog. "Suck my dog cock."

I gladly obey his order, slobbering his smaller stick. Incredible perverse pleasure washes over me, like an extension of the illicit incest I've committed hundreds of times with daddy. He watches me from across the room while getting a great blowjob from the cobra girl. His corporate board members don't know that he's been fucking his daughter in every room of his mansion and at various other locations... but they probably suspect it. Taboo eroticism was written all over our faces at cocktail parties, and our body language clearly expressed our lustful familial longings.

The sense of danger drives me crazier, feeding myself to the lion while petting the german shepherd. That beefy dog dude grabs my blonde bangs and jams his johnson deep in my mouth, face-fucking me aggressively. My right hand stays locked on my clit, masturbating in a steady rhythm while the cobra slams his average-sized cock up my pussy.

Meanwhile, daddy's female employees swarm around him like masked sirens in Homer's Odyssey, taking turns sucking his big dick and hairy balls. I recognize his secretary Anne Hathaway in the deer mask, with that unmistakable birth mark on her left breast that peeked out when she wore a low-cut Prada cocktail dress at daddy's New Year's Eve bash. He squeezes and smacks their tits and asses while glancing at me every ten seconds or so through that creepy jackal mask. He's obviously been fucking all those slutty bitches at 30 Rock while I was hitting the books at Oxford. Treating them like pawns in an endless hedge fund chess game. Screwing those "queens" as often as possible between the rooks, trying to tame their corporate ambitions and keep them on the "back row."

"Get your ass up in the air, kitty," growls the lion. I pull back abruptly, ejecting the bulldog's prick from my mouth with a loud funny poof! sound. My hardcore yoga sessions with daddy pay off in a big way as I bend my lithe body into a sharply curved downward dog pose, with my hands on the floor and my pussy winking out up high. Someone grabs my ass from behind and rams a big rod right up my twat, making me squeal triumphantly.

"Fuck yeah! Fuck the shit out me, boy!" I shout to that unknown masked orgy reveler. He pounds my pussy so good, whapping his balls against my clit with every thrust. Hitting my g-spot at the perfect angle in a tight tantric pose. It doesn't take long for my flood gates to burst, squirting once again with an earth-shattering orgasm.

"Fuck yeah, blondie! I guess the rumors were true: you really do squirt like a fire hydrant."

"Break me off a piece of that ass, Bulldog," grunts the lion. The bulldog steps aside and lets that apex predator pounce on this dainty little kitty. The lion fucks me harder in the ass while spanking me over and over with both hands. I love how the pain races right up to my clit, doubling my pleasure just like daddy always does. Mufasa nearly knocks my yogic body over with brutal thrusting, growling like the Wall Street alpha male he is.

"You weren't just fronting on Facebook, bitch. You really like it rough," remarks the bison. "Let's see how much you can take."

"Buffalo" Bill Allen shoves me face-down on the carpet and bear-hugs me from behind, jamming his long thick dick up my twat and pile-driving away. The full weight of his pudgy body slams into my lean body like a jackhammer. Much heavier than daddy's adonis-like frame. It's hard to breathe amid that onslaught. My perverse delight rises to incredible heights while hearing those other Pinnacle vixens moaning and groaning like Wall Street porn stars. Anne Hathaway and company get fucked hard by daddy in various Kama Sutric positions that he practiced frequently with his only child. Anne was named after Shakespeare's wife, and she's just as crazy as that recent 'artsy' actress with the same name.

The eagle mercifully taps out the bison a few minutes later. That bird-masked hunk scoops me up off the floor and presses my busty chest tightly against his burly chest.

"I'm standing and delivering, you spoiled daddy's girl cunt. Wrap those sexy legs around my waist."

I wrap my legs around his six-pack abs and wrap my arms around his rock-hard shoulders. He guides his penis into my vagina with his right hand, pumping his hips upward while I bounce my ass downward. Damn, I love these white collar neo-neanderthals who pump lots of stocks and iron, and never shave anything besides their faces. His ripped muscles rub harshly against my big tits and flat tender belly while his big dick stretches my labia to the limit, just like daddy's dick. Making me squirt yet again with surging triumph.

"Gangbang time, boys," grunts the bulldog. "Let's fuck that blonde bitch in every hole."

The eagle literally tosses me across "Buffalo" Bill's living room. I land in a heap on his couch, laughing giddily. Horny hedge fund dudes swoop in and fuck me every which way. One in my mouth, one in the pink, and one in the stink. The gator climbs up on top of the couch and grabs my right arm, forcing me to give him an aerial handjob. The bison screws me so hard, bouncing the other cocks into my other holes at the same pace. Incredible erotic sensory overload, feeling freakier than ever. This is way better than my last orgy at Oxford with a bunch of lanky clumsy rich kids from London. Older men know exactly what they want, and they always make the most of it, making damn sure to make it last.

"Take all those fucking cocks, you dirty rich bitch!" barks "Buffalo" Bill, smacking my ass cheeks loudly while screwing my brains out.

"You're a subprime cunt, and we're shortselling you hard," remarks the alligator.

"Daddy's bratty cutie, finally getting the trouble she was asking for," growls the lion. He fucks my pussy relentlessly while Tony Bennet sings about the fog in Frisco.

The eagle dude wraps my blonde bangs around his big cock and jerks off with it, howling triumphantly. The german shepherd shakes things up a minute later, scooping my body off the couch and carrying me over to a picture window with a great view of the Chrysler building with those gleaming chrome hubcaps on the spire.

"Warrior III against the glass, you freaky yogi kitty."

"Namaste, you freaky stock bro," I giggle sweetly, assuming my favorite position with my standing horizontal position with my hands braced against the glass and my left leg sticking out backward. The guard dog fucks my pussy hard in that pose, jiggling my whole body. Another guy grabs my big breasts and titty-fucks me aggressively. Two other two guys take turns indulging their foot fetishes with my size 6 piggies. Various animal masks blur together in a wild furry frenzy.

"Go doggy, go doggy, go!" I shriek deliriously. He fucks me faster and harder while I gaze at daddy's reflection in the mirror. He fucks four ginger investment officers doggy-style against a mahogany dining table. Smacking their tits and asses with both hands in a rapid blur, making them scream in masochistic delight. The same response he always gets from his daughter when he gives me that dominant 'boss bang' treatment. Treating me nice when my clothes are on, and treating me like a cheap kinky crack whore when they're off.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna cum!" Roger roars. Those Wall Street cunts spin around and drop right down on their knees, ripping off their masks and squeezing their faces together at awkward angles. Daddy pumps those faces full of jizz, emitting that same high-pitched shriek he always emits while cumming on my face. It makes me so jealous, wishing I could taste his hot bitter cream yet again.

"I want your cum, motherfuckers!" I hiss through my pink cat mask.

"Yes ma'am, Miss Kitty," the bison chuckles. He carries me over to a pool table and sets me down on the smooth green felt, with my head lolling off the wooden edge. Just like my favorite retro Marilyn Chambers porn scene from Insatiable, when her spoiled rich daddy's girl character got fucked senseless by a lowly gardener dude.

"Fuck yeah. I'm gonna break that hot blonde cue ball," the bulldog growls. He fucks my face upside-down for a minute, gagging me over and over. Drool oozes down into my hair as I growl in complete submissive rapture. The bulldog finally pulls out and blows a massive load right on my eyes, clouding my vision with white semen.

"Oooh yeah, that's so nice and warm," I growl gutturally, rubbing my clit near the 8 ball. The eagle swoops in and grabs my blonde hair, fucking my face just as fast.

"Fucking rich bitch, I wish I could have screwed you at your eighteenth birthday party," he snarls viciously, reminding me of incestuous affair with daddy. "Oh yeah, oh yeah, ohhhh yeah, oooooWAAAAAAAAH!"

He clouds my vision with even more jizz; dribbling down my forehead and into my hair. The next six guys all seem to blur into one another, skullfucking me brutally and literally plastering my face with a gallon of spunk. The piquant aroma is so intense as it oozes right into my nostrils, flooding my bloodstream with soothing male pheromones. I rub that sticky mess off my eyes and put it in my mouth, savoring the bitter taste before swallowing it all down in one big gulp.

I feel so incredibly good after that long hard stock market orgy. Drenched with sweat and other bodily fluids, sore in all three holes but looking forward to more wild adventures. I hop off that pool table and step toward my naked father with a sheepish grin. He looks back at me with a stern expression, the kind he always wears during our epic BDSM sessions. Daddy obviously wants to "punish" his slutty daughter... but now is definitely not a good time or place.

"My female subordinates demand 'equal opportunity employment,' Miss Keofferam," Roger grunts.

"Fuck yeah, you hot pink kitty," giggles the deer girl. "Lie down on the floor and let us clean you up with our 'rough tongues.'"

"I never mind working overtime," I giggle back, tossing my sploogy hair with a sweet grin. I lie down on a plush berber rug in the middle of Bill's living room. Those four white-collar bimbos swoop down and devour me like raving nymphomaniacs. Licking all that cum off my face and eating the rest of my body like sexy vampires. Their soft feminine skin feels so good against my soft feminine skin. Torturing my tits and pussy with slow skillful stimulation while Ella Fitzgerald belts out a sultry tune about the summer of '56. "Too darn hot!"

The zebra bitch sits on my face and rubs her cunt back and forth across my mouth. I stick my tongue out and flick her clit with every stroke. The frog bitch sticks her own long tongue out of her mask, deep into my throbbing twat. The cobra cunt nurses my pointy pink nipples, raising my pleasure to the Nth degree as their flowery female scents overwhelm my senses. Their collective effort brings me to yet another awesome climax. I lost count after five orgasms about twenty minutes ago.

Those stock chicks keep swarming and swarming, stimulating every square inch of my body so well. Unlike those egotistical stock bros who focus on the "prime real estate." Daddy always taught me how to achieve full body orgasms, but he was never able to actually bring me to one. It took a crazy corporate sex party to open my eyes to a wider world of erotic potential, like a twenty-first century Sappho.

The ladies finally reach a mutual conclusion, soaking my skin with crystal clear ejaculate. Caterwauling climactically high above midtown Manhattan.

"Not bad for a first time, eh kitty?" utters the toad girl.

"Fuck yeah, froggie. Something tells me this won't be my last lesbian orgy."

"That spoiled daddy's girl likes pussies... but she loves dicks," grunts the alligator.

"Guilty as charged, Mister Croc," I giggle sweetly.

"I wish you'd come work for us at Pinnacle," beams the deer lady.

"Maybe I will, Bambi. My current career path is far from lucrative. Like Roger always tells me, 'a history degree and fifty cents will buy me a bag of chips.'"

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The ambience of Fifth Avenue has taken on a richer hue in the late evening. The tourists have all gone back to their hotel rooms, and the cosmopolitan New York natives have come out to play. Heading toward upscale midtown night clubs to mix and mingle, like those annoying Sex and the City bitches who refuse to disappear from pop culture, twenty years after that show was mercifully cancelled. Hoping they'll wake up in the morning next to a decent random guy.

That epic orgy left me in a depressing stupor, with all my idealistic one-percenter delusions shattered in one fell swoop. Making me feel so cheap and common, despite being a filthy rich daddy's girl.

"Wasn't that fun, Katie?" Daddy grunts.

"I don't want to talk about it, daddy," I grunt.

"All tired out, eh?"

"I'm tired of everything," I mutter distantly, gazing up at the neo-gothic spires of Saint Patrick's cathedral, right across Fifth Avenue from the capitalist Rockefeller Center "cathedral." Daddy senses my unease, sighing dreamily and draping his right arm around my shoulders. I'm too weary to care, letting him guide me back toward the Waldorf-Astoria.

We enter that vintage elevator five minutes later. The gleaming art-deco grillwork reminds me of the brass BDSM dog cage daddy loves to lock me in, back home in Greenwich. Getting kinky has always been a form of psychotherapy for me. Working out my issues by letting men work out their issues on my ass.

"I want you to whip the shit out of me, daddy," I grunt toward the retro dial floor indicator as it nears the top. "No foreplay, and no romantic bullshit."

"As you wish, m'lady," Roger replies comically, like a medieval court jester. The elevator door opens, and he grabs my right wrist hard, yanking me down the hallway toward our room.

"Move your ass," he growls, getting right back into the white-collar dominator character I love so well. He unlocks the door and pulls me into the room, then he slams the door behind him. "Get naked, bitch. And put that fucking cat mask back on."

"Yes sir, Mister Keofferam," I utter meekly, gladly assuming my usual timid sub character. Kicking off my $800 Jimmy Choo pumps and raising my equally fabulous dress over my head. Daddy groans in admiration of his daughter's perfect naked body, presented for his own private pleasure after getting ravaged by a dozen of his underlings. I don that pink kitty mask one more time, reveling in role-playing incest mode.

"Sit down on that fancy french sofa, and spread your arms straight out to the side," he orders sternly, with his big dick rising once again in his fancy pants. I plop down on that plush silky imported couch, stretching out my slender arms along the smooth mahogany upper trim. Stretching my legs just as wide, giving him an eyeful of my used-up blonde-haired twat. He grabs some rope from his suitcases and ties my wrists and ankles to the frilly looping wooden designs on the upper and lower corners of the couch.

"Dominate me real good, daddy. You're my favorite boss."

"Hell yeah, blondie. I let my whole corporate board fuck the shit out of you tonight, but I'm still paying your allowance and your fucking tuition. Your ass is still mine."

He grabs a blue suede-covered box full of rattling metal. I groan loudly, knowing exactly what's inside that box.

"Fuck yeah, daddy. Clamp your naughty daughter up!"

Roger sets the box down against my left thigh, with the smooth blue fabric feeling good against my pale white flesh. He pulls out a stainless steel nipple clamp, making me groan louder.

"Investing is hard work, baby. No pain, no gain."

He clamps that thing on the lower edge of my left pink nipple, making me shriek delightfully.

"Oh fuck, yeaaah. That hurts so good, daddy," I growl, thrashing my bound spread-eagle limbs. He puts four more clamps on the edge of my left nipple to form a metal circle, then he does the same thing to the right nipple. Intense erotic pain surges throughout my large breasts, racing down to my throbbing pussy and clit. I need him to fuck me so bad, but he always takes his sweet time torturing me, figuratively and literally.

He takes me two more clamps out of the box, and I gasp loudly, bracing myself. He puts those strong spring-loaded things right in the middle of the metal circles, pinching my sensitive erect nipples. Making me squeal toward a crystal chandelier with incredible arousing pain.

"Damn, my little kitty is really making a racket tonight. I better shut her up with her favorite slut gag."

He pulls out a red rubber ball gag with black leather straps, then he jams it between my teeth and against my tongue and fastens it firmly around the back of my head, turning my plaintive moans to muffled whimpers.

"That's better, Miss Keofferam. I'll make you a good obedient board member. You have to learn when to shut your big smart-ass mouth."

"Uhhh-huh," I nod in the affirmative, shooting him a sly wink with my big blue right eye.

"Don't wink at me, you slutty fucking cunt. I'll make you toe the company line."

He pulls out a metal crab-shaped clamp and puts it on my left cunt lip, right at the base near my asshole. More intense pain flares up down there, surging right up to my clit.

"That's right, pussy-bitch. This little kitty stayed home."

"Huu-huuh-huuuh," I giggle playfully, with drool oozing between my lips and the rubber ball.

He puts two more clamps on my left cuntlip, and three more on the right. I thrash wildly in tight bondage, surging with masochistic desire.

"Saving the best for last, bitch. This little clit always wants more."

He squeezes my pleasure center tightly between two fingers, plumping it up like a tiny pink flower. Then he puts one more crab right on that puffy clit, driving me insane.

"Hoooowuuuphhhha-huuuuuh!"

"Good kitty. Good kitty," he coos, calming my thrashing body with gentle petting strokes. My father knows just how to push my buttons, making me do whatever the fuck he wants, whenever he wants.

"Actually, you're a bad kitty," he chuckles. "You need another good whoopin'."

"Uh-huuuh," I nod eagerly, desperate for more sweet pain.

He pulls out a black genuine leather riding crop. The real solid kind for actual horses, not one of those cheap shoddy kink. com props.

WHACK!

"Hoooo-wa-hu-huuh!" I shriek, hearing one of the clamps fly off my left nipple and clatter down on a mahogany coffee table.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

I thrash about even more in that tight naked x-shape, hearing three more clamps clatter down. Daddy growls viciously with his penis pressing hard against his zipper. Just as eager for satisfaction as me. Another vicious lash knocks that metal crab off my pleasure center, making me scream louder in muffled masochistic glee.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

The last of the clamps finally flies off. The sweet relief brings me right to orgasm; shuddering and whimpering pathetically on that luxurious french sofa.

"I ain't done, bitch. Your ass is way too hot to leave unspanked."

"Hooo guuuh!" I moan in disbelief at his insatiable kinky appetite. He unties my ankles from the couch, then he steps around to the other side, grabs my hips, and literally flips me over the back cushion with my feet on the carpet and my ass up in the air. My wet pussy presses against the mahogany backboard as he pulls out my favorite spanking paddle; heavy black silicone with the words FUCK TOY boldly emblazoned in red.

"This slutty fuck toy needs to stop playing stupid games, and grow the hell up."

WHAAASH! WHAAASH! WHAAASH! WHAAASH! WHAAASH! WHAAASH!

He sets my ass on fire with that cool black paddle. I groan loudly and incoherently through the gag, grinding my pussy against the mahogany and mashing my face into the silky fabric. I inherited my high pain threshold from Leni's side of the family. Daddy told me a few months ago that this paddle was also the only toy that could bring her to the breaking point, screaming out her safe word. Like mother, like daughter.

WHAAASH! WHAAASH! WHAAASH!

The delightful burning soon turns into unenjoyable searing pain. My tongue is tied by ounces of silicone, so I shake my head quickly back and forth four times in lieu of my spoken safe word.

"Ah yes, sacher torte," Daddy murmurs, reciting it for me. "I wish they served that at the Rainbow Room reception."

He unfastens the gag, pulling the ball out of my mouth. I gasp loudly in relief, desperate for more "relief" from his dick.

"Holy shit. That was your best job yet!"

"Oh yeah, that big stock speech really supercharged my sex drive. Treating you like a gullible investor from a flyover state, makin' you my bee-otch."

"Make me your anal bitch, daddy. Slam that big fucking cock up my asshole," I growl throatily, with my arms still stretched out and bound to the sofa arms.

"As you wish, m'lady," he utters like a Shakespearean fool. He grabs a tube of KY jelly from his toiletry case and smears a big wad over my anal sphincter. Then he shoves a slick finger deep inside, making me swoon with sudden perverted pleasure.

"You like that, eh?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Then you're gonna love this."

He stabs that huge rod right up my lubed rectum, like a serial killer hacking an unsuspecting victim from behind with a butcher knife. Stretching my sphincter taut and sending literal shockwaves racing up my spine.

"Oh shit, just like that! Pound my fucking ass!"

"Fucking right, bitch!"

He swings his ripped hips as hard and as fast as he can, crashing against my glutes in a steady pash-pash-pash-pash-pash rhythm. Rattling that frenchy furniture like an earthquake, spanking my red raw ass cheeks over and over. His massive manhood stimulates my sphincter tremendously, pulling my pussy back and forth with it. Rubbing my clit nicely against the frilled carving patterns on the imported wood. Hitting my g-spot just right in that inverted v-shaped position, like a downward facing dog with her paws tied to two different trees.

My eyes roll back in my head with toxic lust, and another staggering climax rushes throughout my young body. Definitely the most I've ever had in a single day, breaking our old record set during a magical evening in Vienna. I got freaky with daddy at the opera house during Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries, and then we got freakier in our charming vintage hotel room with a great view of Saint Stephen's Cathedral. Roger has impressive sexual stamina, but there's no way he can keep up that manic pace for more than a minute.

"God damn, yeeesss. Your dick feels so good, so deep in my shithole."

"Fuck yeah, bitch. I'm gonna fill your dirty ass right up with jizz. Anne Hathaway loves that too."

"Blow another load in your slutty daughter, just like your slutty secretary."

"Shit, girl, you're such a crazy daddy-fucking cunt! Oh gah, oh gah, errrrrrrUUUUUUUUHHH!"

I feel his hot spunk splattering deep inside, soothing that sensitive hole with creamy goodness after a vicious onslaught. Daddy pulls out reluctantly a few moments later, sighing loudly in complete satisfaction and exhaustion. He slowly ambles around the couch and unties my hands. I usually kiss him tenderly in the afterglow of our wild sex sessions, but the mood is too dark and weird tonight after that masquerade orgy.

"Hell of a night, Mister Keofferam," I mutter through a thick hedonistic haze, sore all over. "You pimped me out to your co-workers, and then you claimed me back as your own private kink slut."

"Whatever, blondie," Roger grumbles indignantly.

"We can't keep doing this, daddy. It's getting too crazy."

"You've been letting it get too crazy."

"So have you, daddy. It's just like you said: you treat me like some gullible hick investor from flyover country."

"You know I love you, baby. But I always play rough."

"You love your job more than me," I utter angrily, with my long-repressed frustrations bursting through.

"That's bullshit, Katie. I've been loving you so much lately."

"You've been fucking me, daddy. You haven't been loving me."

"That's just what Leni used to say. You borrow so many tacky lines from your mother."

"You never took her good advice, and you never really listened to her at all. That's why she divorced your rich ass."

"Don't blame her for this mess, honey. This is all on you. You started it in that hot tub on your birthday, and then you kept demanding more and more."

"And now I'm ending it, Mister Keofferam!" I growl viciously, despite a nagging hedonistic voice in my head urging me to keep it going strong. "I'm sleeping in that fancy bed tonight, and you're sleeping on the couch. No more fucking."

Roger's face fills with regret, clearly still longing to possess me body and soul. "Please, baby, let's keep partying just a few weeks longer, till you go back to Oxford for the fall."

"No!" I shriek painfully. "It's fucking over, daddy! I'm cancelling our crooked little 'investment' before we wind up in jail."

"Whatever, bitch," he growls in equal frustration. "Go sleep in the bed you made, and wake the hell up."

I snarl at his smug expression and his cruel use of the B word outside of our fun BDSM roleplaying sessions.

"You too, big boss man!"

I storm across the living room and into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I plop down on a comfy king-size memory foam mattress, burying my face in a memory foam pillow and bursting into tears. Crying over all the time I've wasted with this incestous madness, and at my wasted life in general. I've been hiding in history books and dwelling in a cum-soaked fantasy world, hoping some knight in shining armor would swoop in and make me his perfect princess.

I eventually stop crying and turn my head toward the bedroom window, with a great view of 30 Rockeffeler Plaza. So much more goes on in that huge tower which daddy has no control over. So much more goes on in this whole crazy city. New York was built on a foundation of dreams, selling many fantasies at a high mark-up.

This is the end for us, but my story has only just begun.