My Pretty Dirty Kitten

Nine: Be My Personal Sl*t

Gianna

I click the lock on my bedroom door twice to make sure it is secure, then lean against it for a second, letting out a slow breath.

The room is quiet except for the soft hum of my ring light warming up. I glance at the clock on my desk. Ten minutes until the stream starts.

I step in front of the full-length mirror and look myself over, almost second-guessing my decision.

I glance over at the starfish bikini, which looks even skimpier than when I see it this morning.

The black sequined cups barely cover the essentials, held up by thin strings tied behind my neck and back.

The bottom is just a tiny thong with another starfish over the front, leaving my entire tummy exposed.

I gulp hard as I stare at my reflection. I look mostly seductive and I haven’t even put on my makeup yet.

My thighs press together as I shift, thick and smooth and impossible to hide.

I guide my way to the wardrobe and instead of my straight bangs, I choose the same one from the pictures, a long flowy blonde wig.

Sort of reminds me of Rapunzel’s hair. I pull the strands forward on purpose, letting them spill over my shoulders and drape across my breasts.

The hair completely covers the starfish cups, hiding almost everything beneath soft golden layers. Only little hints of black sequins peek through when I move.

I run my fingers through the wig one more time, arranging it so the ends brush against my exposed tummy.

My heart beats faster already. I walk to my desk, lean down to check the camera angle, and switch to preview mode. The chat will explode any second now.

I smile at my reflection in the monitor. Kittenxo is ready.

I take one last deep breath, then settle into my plush pink gaming chair.

The camera is already framed perfectly, catching me from mid-thigh up. I lean forward just enough to click the button that takes the stream fully live.

The little red "LIVE" indicator pops up in the corner of my monitor, and the chat window immediately starts scrolling with names and hearts and fire emojis.

I tilt my head a little, letting the long blonde waves shift across my chest. The hair still covers almost everything, soft golden strands draped over the starfish cups like a teasing veil.

"Hi everyone," I say softly, using the sweet voice changer but making sure my voice is a little breathy on purpose.

I give a small wave, fingers wiggling near my face.

"Hi masters. Your Kitten is here and feeling extra naughty tonight."

I lean back slowly in the chair, arching my back just enough to make the hair slide a fraction, revealing a quick flash of my cleavage before it falls back into place. The chat explodes with messages.

Harddaddy: God damn, my c**k just jerked at the sight of your body.

Joejerkins: s**t kitten.

I bite my lower lip, looking straight into the lens with wide eyes.

“I wore something special for you. Do you like it?" I run my hands lightly down the sides of the wig, gathering the strands and letting them spill over my bare tummy for a second before pulling them forward again.

"It's so easy for this hair to slip away. Maybe if you're all really sweet to me tonight, I'll let it."

I smile, slow and playful, and blow a little kiss toward the camera. "Tip menu is up, loves. Let's see how fast we can make Kitten purr.”

I am halfway through reading out a tip note when my phone buzzes on the desk beside me. I glance down out of habit. The notification is from my GirlGoneWild private messaging app, not the main stream chat.

The name at the top makes my stomach twist.

kittentamer.

This asshole again?

I force my smile to stay in place for the camera. "Thank you so much for the hundred roses, baby," I say to the donor on screen, voice still light and sweet.

My eyes flick back to the phone.

The message reads: End the live now, Kitten. I don’t think I quite like the fact you're flaunting yourself to those thirsty men.

I scoff, shutting off my screen and pretending to bend over, letting my breasts nearly spill out of the straps.

Just then the notification sound of the stream buzzes and a tip of $5000 shows up.

My eyes widen, but I quickly compose myself.

“Thank you so much, kittentamer.” I say sweetly, blowing a kiss to the camera.

My phone lights up with texts from kittentamer.

Kittentamer: There's more where that came from, end the live.

Attached is a screenshot of a $40,000 tip waiting in my payment queue, pending only if I go offline immediately.

My breath catches. Forty thousand dollars. Enough to cover rent for a year, enough to finally pay off the electricity bill too.

My fingers hover over the phone, but I do not touch it yet. The chat is flying past, hundreds of messages begging me to tease more, to move the hair, to show them what is underneath.

I laugh softly for the viewers, tilting my head so the long blonde waves shift again, keeping everything hidden. "You guys are spoiling me tonight."

Another buzz. A second message.

I sent the 40k. That should be enough to buy your attention. End it.

I keep performing, running my fingers along the edge of the wig, letting the ends trail over my bare tummy.

If I can keep this up, I might get more than $45k from this paypig.

Thirty seconds later the phone vibrates again. This time it is a $15,000 tip that lands instantly in my account. The notification pops up loud enough that I know the stream can hear the chime.

Then another text:

Last chance. Go offline or I report the account. You know I can.

My heart slams against my ribs. I’ve heard this has been done before to other girls.

One flag from someone with that kind of money and the platform does not ask questions.

I look straight into the camera, smile still painted on, but my eyes feel wide and frozen. The long hair drapes over my chest like nothing has changed. Hundreds of people are watching, tipping, pleading for more.

I swallow once, hard.

The chat keeps scrolling, oblivious.

I have maybe ten seconds to decide.

I stare at the screen for what feels like forever, but it is probably only five seconds. The chat is still going wild, tips chiming in, messages begging me not to stop. My throat feels tight.

I force a soft laugh, leaning forward so the long blonde hair spills over my shoulders again, hiding everything.

"You guys have been so amazing tonight," I say, keeping my voice sweet and steady. "But Kitten has to cut it short. Something comes up that I can’t ignore. I’m sorry, loves. I’ll make it up to you next time, I promise."

The protests flood in immediately. I blow a quick kiss, mute the mic, and hit the button to end the stream. The red "LIVE" indicator disappears. The room goes suddenly quiet, just the low hum of my computer fan and my own breathing.

I sit back in the chair, heart pounding. Forty thousand waiting, fifteen already in my account, and the threat hanging over it all. I pull the wig's long strands away from my chest, suddenly feeling too exposed even alone. The starfish bikini feels ridiculous now.

I reach for my phone, ready to message him that it’s done, that we can talk privately on the other platform like he always wants. GirlGoneWild, the more exclusive site where I’m supposed to do one-on-one shows for my highest spenders.

Before I can open the app, a bunch of texts from kittentamer pops up.

Kittentamer: Good girl. I knew you'd choose wisely.

Kittentamer: Now for the real offer.

Kittentamer: 100k every night, I'll cash app it right now but on one condition.

Kittentamer: You'll do no more streams, or take any other clients.

Kittentamer: Just us two, you'll do exactly what I say for an hour and I'll pay extra for extended time.

Kittentamer: I want you Kitten to be my personal slut, if you say yes I'll take care of all your needs.

Kittentamer: But if you reject, I'll report your account and you lose every single thing.

Kittentamer: Your move, Kitten.

I stare at the words until they blur. My fingers hover over the keyboard, trembling.

A hundred thousand dollars for one hour, that’s a million in a week.

Much more than I earned tonight, minus his gifts of course.