Katrina's A Bitch free porn video
Author's Note: I began working on this story, in my imagination, long
before Hurricane Katrina was even a tropical depression. Over the weeks
and months, Katrina became a virtual person to me. The choice of the
name owes nothing to the catastrophic storm, if anything there's a
stronger connection to the 1980's one hit wonder band "Katrina and the
Waves." I mean no disrespect to those who've suffered and died as a
result of the storm. I tried to change the name, but it just wasn't the
Katrina I envisioned. Please donate anything you can to help those
affected by the storm. Please remember them suffering and the dead in
your prayers.
Katrina's A Bitch.
Katrina's a bitch. The biggest bitch in three counties. Everyone knew
that. Her father was the sheriff, which was kind of like saying The
Godfather was in the import/export business. He ran the county. If you
were on his good side, good things happened for you. If you were on his
bad side, bad things happened. And if you really pissed him off, well,
then you weren't around very long. There were rumors about buried
bodies up at his 15 room hunting "shack." I'd never met the sheriff,
thank goodness, having only seen him on the news and in the paper. I'd
heard he had a few teenaged daughters, the oldest being Katrina, who was
supposed to be an absolute goddess, and a class "A" bitch. I didn't
want to know anymore than that,and I never asked questions about it.
One Friday night, about 18 months ago, I'd received a paycheck loaded
with over time. For at least that night, I was Mr. Moneybags. I hit
all the popular clubs, spending like there was no tomorrow. I was
hoping to attract attention, and it was working. I had women hanging
off me, I was in the spot light. At one of the classier joints, while
buying a round of drinks, the most beautiful women I'd ever laid eyes on
strode up to me and told me I was going to buy her a Long Island Ice
Tea. I ordered two. She was a bit tall for a women, probably 5' 8"
without her four inch strappy sandals. In them, she towered over me.
What caught me first were her eyes. Bright blue, almost glowing in the
dark bar. They were stunning, like blue diamonds. She wore a skin
tight, charcoal gray lycra minidress with matching tights. Nothing was
hidden. Her breasts were magnificent, two huge, firm mounds. She wore
no bra, apparently she didn't need one. They were as firm as the two
ripe melons that made up her stunning behind.
We talked, as best we could over the loud band, we danced, and we drank.
And we drank some more. Then we drank some more. I was feeling no pain
what so ever. She told me her name was Kathy. After a while, I lost
track of time. I remember her asking me back to her place. I remember
getting into her brand new, yellow Ford Mustang. I remember driving for
a while. And then, I don't remember anything till I woke up the next
morning. With my head pounding, I opened my eyes and tried to focus. I
was in a little girls room. Pink wall paper, pink canopy bed, stuffed
animals, posters of rock stars on the wall. Where the hell was I? Then
Kathy came running in wearing sweats.
"You have got to get out of here right now!" she screamed.
"Wha....wha.....where the hell am I?" I asked.
"No time for questions, you need to get the fuck out of here right now!
My father just pulled into the drive way, and if he catches you here,
you will be dead. Now Move!"
I stood up, and realized I was naked.
"Kathy, you're father...what's going on?"
"My name is not Kathy, that's just the name on my fake ID, my name is
Katrina, and my Dad's the county sheriff, and if he catches you in my
room, we are both royally screwed, now Get Out!"
That certainly got my brain in gear. Lets see, sleeping with the county
sheriff's underage daughter. Check. Dead man walking. I searched
around the room for my clothes, but couldn't find them.
"You don't understand, you need to leave now!"
"I can't, I don't have any clothes."
She reached down to the floor, scooped up the gray lycra dress she wore
last night and tossed it to me.
"Out this window, now, head for the woods, two miles, then take a left
and you'll be in the back of the parking lot of the bar we met at last
night, now go!"
"But what about my clothes?"
"I'll find them and call you, OUT!"
I heard the front door open, and needed no more warnings, I was out the
window and gone. I walked back to my car that morning wearing Katrina's
dress. That was the first time she had me in one, I wish it were the
last.
A few days later Katrina called, she'd gotten my name from my wallet,
and my number from the phone book. She had my clothes and wanted her
dress back. She said it was a designer. We met at a burger joint, she
was waiting for me. In the day light, with our the glamours clothes and
make up, she was obviously a teenager. But an amazing teenager, none
the less. She wore black spandex bike shorts, a too small white tank
top, that did nothing to hide her huge breasts, a baseball cap, and
socks and sneakers. But those eyes, they were still beautiful,
glittering like blue diamonds. All I can think of to describe them is a
sunny, turquoise blue lagoon from the Caribbean.
We exchanged bags, and I checked my wallet. All my money was gone. She
said she'd run into an emergency and borrowed it, she'd pay me back as
soon as she could. I figured I'd just chalk it up to an expensive
lesson, and was glad I still had my nuts. With me broke, I declined to
stay for lunch and left. I was hoping that would conclude my
relationship with Katrina. But again, I was wrong.
A week or two later, Katrina called again, she wanted to meet for lunch.
I tried to beg off, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. So I found
myself at another restaurant, she was dressed as usual, spandex and tank
top, enough to make every male in the room drool. I was all set to end
this once and for all, but then I saw those eyes, and I fell into them.
Before I knew it, I'd bought us both lunch, and gave her another loan.
This went on every couple of weeks, until I had finally decided,
regardless of her looks, I was not going to be her piggy bank. We
fought on the phone, and we finally agreed to meet one last time to
settle up once and for all. Rather than meet at a burger joint like we
had in the past, she wanted to meet at the bar where we first met. I
agreed. When I got there, there was the Kathy that I fell for.
Absolutely stunning. She wore a skimpy black halter dress, with a very
short hem line. Sheer black nylons, and four inch, strap on pumps. Her
hair was done up in a wild manor, spilling over her shoulders and back.
And then there were those beautiful eyes again.
We sat at a booth, bought some drinks, and I was about to let her have
it once and for all when she interrupted my rehearsed speech.
"Listen up..." she started. "I doubt you remember much from that first
night, you were pretty hammered. But I remember it very well. I
remember going back to my house. I remember us doing it several times.
And I remember you insisting that we tape the whole evening, which we
did."
I felt like I was going to throw up. "And I still have that tape. Now
it's true, I'd be in very big trouble with Daddy, if he ever saw it.
But you, my friend, would learn a new definition of the word 'screwed'."
I gulped my drink, speechless.
"So here's how it's going to work. From time to time, I need cash.
Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. When I need it, I'll call you, and
you'll deliver it. And in return, Daddy never sees the video of you
laying the meat to his darling little baby girl. Got it?"
I shook my head, numbly, up and down. I got it. Either way, I was
screwed.
And true to her words, a couple, three times a month, I'd get a call,
I'd meet up with her, fall in love with her eyes, and go away empty
handed. After a few months, I guess money alone wasn't good enough for
her. She wanted more from me. She wanted my pride, my manhood. I
received one phone call demanding money, but she said on the way over, I
would stop at a store, buy panties, and wear them to our meeting. She
said she would check. I asked her why.
She replied, "Because I said so, now do it."
I did, and she checked. Pleased as all hell with herself. She ordered
me to wear them every time I gave her money. She also suggested I buy a
few more pairs, because she didn't want to smell old dirty ones. And to
make sure they're sexy. So I did. Did I really have a choice? Not
that I could see.
Riding high on her victories over me, she went further. She ordered me
to buy and wear pantyhose too. Eventually she added a corset to my
wardrobe, told me I'd better learn how to tighten it sufficiently,
because if it wasn't, she'd demand more money. At some point this all
spun out of control. She ordered me to buy dresses and to wear them.
We'd meet at old, out of the way places, abandoned warehouse and
factories. Old farm houses. With every meeting, she wanted more and
more. Too much was never enough. Before long, I was wearing five inch
strap on pumps, spandex minidresses, hose, make up, even a wig and clip
on ear rings. Then she started in on my body hair. I had to shave my
legs, crotch and under arms. As upset and angry as I was, there was
still something about being under the control of such a beauty. Every
time I'd see those eyes, I would swoon for her. It didn't take long for
the other shoe to fall.
She called me, told me to dress up, bring the money, and buy some rope
and some hand cuffs. And I better not be late. That was the day
Katrina introduced me to bondage. She had me stand with my back to a
beam, completely dressed up, and she cuffed my hands behind my back,
around the beam. Then she proceeded to bind me to the beam with about a
hundred yards of rope. There I was, unable to move, and she just stared
at me smiling. And again, those sparkling eyes. She told me this is
how it would be from now on. She'd call me demanding money, I'd arrive
at the place before hand, tie myself up and wait for her. She'd come
and if I did a good enough job, she'd release me. If not she'd correct
my inadequate tie and leave me there to suffer for a few hours. Which
she did. Took me a good four or five tries before my efforts met her
demands. Finally after one particularly brutal self hogtie, she slapped
my ass and said "good girl" and untied me. Thank God, it was killing me
too. I don't know what I was thinking, making it so stringent and
tight. As she unlocked the cuffs she said to buy a gag or two also.
All that lead me to where I was right now. In my car, headed towards
the old miner's shack on the out skirts of town. I hate that shack. In
the best of weather, its hotter than hell. Today was a scorcher. I had
a suitcase full of women's clothes, and a gym bag full of bondage gear.
And not enough money to meet her demands. She wasn't going to be happy
about that, but it didn't matter, there was nothing I could do about it
now. They'd cut over time at the plant to a bare minimum. And with all
the purchases she was demanding of me, I was getting pretty broke. I
knew she wanted me self bound, and thoroughly so. She'd demanded the
full nine yards, and seeing as she's snuck up on me before, by showing
up early, I wasn't taking any chances. I was ninety minutes early.
Having showered and shaved earlier, I was ready to dress up for Kartina.
I removed my clothes, folded them neatly and placed them on an old
table. I pulled on a red thong, blushing in the humiliation of working
the material up the crack of my ass. Next came the pantyhose. For some
strange reason, she insisted on a pair of black Burlington Coat Factory
Control Tops. Once I started putting them on, I knew why. These things
were so tight, they were crushing my balls and dick. If I hadn't bought
them myself I would have guessed she'd had them specifically made for
me. They were brutal. How could something so sheer and delicate,
constrict so much? I knew I'd never be able to bend over in the corset,
so I strapped on my red five inch heels first. Next came the corset. I
dreaded this thing. While it seemed to go on easy enough, it wasn't
long before my ribs ached, and I was short of breath. I took extra time
lacing it as tight as I could, which isn't easy to do by yourself.
Then came the skin tight, lycra minidress, hooker red. It clung to me
like a second skin. I pulled out my make up bag, and went to work as
best I could. Which wasn't very. I was always terrible at makeup, and
Katrina never missed a chance to point that out, what a pathetic little
sissy I was, couldn't even apply blush. A long blonde, curly wig went
on top and a pair of gauche dangling ear rings. Since I didn't know how
long I would be tied up, I chose a ring gag. It allowed me to drool,
rather than trying to swallow, which isn't easy with a huge ball shoved
in your mouth. It had a cinch in the back rather than a buckle, which
was a down side, since Katrina was guaranteed to tighten it.
When Katrina found this shack, she had me build a bondage seat. Much
like a toilet seat, but with sturdy legs. In other words, everything
was hanging out. It was bolted to a huge vertical beam. Underneath it
was a device she found that allowed a variety of other devices to be
connected. In other words she could use it as a base rod and a dildo
(thank God she hadn't) or she could affix some other device. That
scared me, who knew what ran through her dirty little mind. I found out
that I couldn't bend over enough in the corset to tie my ankles to the
chair legs, and I'd catch hell for that. So I did extra rope both above
and below my knees, and another set of loops on my upper thighs, hoping
that would be enough.
I took some more rope and tied my upper torso to the beam, pulling it
quite tight before cinching it up in a knot in front of me, so I
couldn't reach it. I locked one cuff on my left wrist, put both my
hands behind my back, around the beam, and cuffed my right wrist. Now I
was stuck, and the butterflies in my stomach started fluttering. I
could move my ankles and feet a few inches, I could move my hands and
arms a little, and I could move my head. But make no mistake, I wasn't
going anywhere till Katrina said so. I figured I was still about 20
minutes early, but there was no guarantee when she would show up, just
that at some point she would. So I waited, what else could I do? And
then waited some more, and waited some more. As the sun moved across
the sky, it beat down on the musty old shack, and the temperature
soared. It turned into an oven, making me even more miserable. After
somewhere between three or four hours (I had gotten pretty good at
gauging the passage of time, there wasn't much else to do) I heard the
unmistakable sound of her Mustang. Now I was in utter panic. Trapped,
like a fly in a spider web, and here comes my Black Widow.
She kept me waiting for another twenty minutes before I saw her standing
in the door way. It was by now dusk, and she carried a battery powered
camping lantern. She was dressed as usual, black spandex bike shorts,
too small white tank top. Her hair was in a pony tail, and flowed out
from under her baseball cap. She wore a pink fanny pack. Her
expression was all business, it always was. But her eyes betrayed her.
They shone brightly in the light, like two pools of water, bright,
sparkling. She was a lion on a hunt, and she just caught the scent of
her prey. She stood there, watching me, smirking slightly, which
humiliated me even more. She loved to humiliate me. Some times I
think she lived on my humiliation. Thrived on it. Proof of her
superiority. Proof of her dominance.
Then, as if I weren't even here, if this ludicrous scene didn't exist,
she strode over to the table and placed her lantern next to my clothes.
She picked up my pants, removed my wallet, and threw the pants over in a
corner, totally unconcerned. She opened my wallet, took all the cash,
and threw it in another corner.
She counted to herself, stopped, counted again, then looked at me with
disgust and screamed, "What the fuck! You're short! You maggot, I've
got bills, I've got expenses, and you don't have all my money!"
She stuffed the wad of bills in her fanny pack. Even if I hadn't been
gagged, she wouldn't have listened to me. She never does.
She strode over to were I was bound and immediately checked my bondage.
"Too good to tie your ankles, bitch?"
She prowled around me like a lioness, I was scared to death. She pushed
my head down, roughly, and tightened the cinch on my gag. I groaned
loudly as the ring was forced even deeper in my mouth.
"Oh shut the fuck up, wimp," she replied.
She roughly shoved he finger under the corset and proclaimed, "You call
that tight? What a sissy. If you need a special class on just what a
tight corset is, I can teach you. But there will be a fee for my
services. My time isn't cheap." This wasn't going well at all. She
found fault with everything.
The first thing she did was reach into the gym bag and grabbed a wide,
leather strap, which she used to tie my forehead to the beam. Now all I
could do was look straight ahead. She kneeled down and grabbed some
rope, and soon both my ankles were severely tied to the chair legs. She
even tied my shoes to my feet and then tied the shoes to the legs. My
feet were welded into place. Then she took more rope and looped it
around my arms and chest, binding me to the pole. When she was finished
I could wiggle my fingers and close my eyes, and that was it. This is
the strictest bondage she'd ever forced on me, and I was petrified. She
began to stalk me. Walking around, changing direction behind me. In
her sneakers, I could barely hear her steps.
Then, with out warning, she jumped and landed on my lap. Now Katrina is
a beautiful girl, she's also 100% muscle, and definitely not a dainty
flower. She almost knocked the air out of me, not that there was much
air to begin with, between the ropes and the corset. She scooted her
but up until she was grinding her pussy against my crotch, and she
shoved her huge breasts into my face, sealing my mouth and nose with her
cleavage. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, I panicked. I pleaded
with my eyes, while she smiled at me with her's. Just when I was about
to pass out, she released me. I drank in air, as fast as I could.
"You know how the game works, right bitch? I call you, you show up all
nice and pretty, dressed like my whore, and then you pay me for the
privilege of my presence. But you didn't do that did you? I'm a high
maintenance babe. I have bills, I have expenses. I have commitments."
If I hadn't been bound, I would have leapt out of my skin. "Why do you
fight me so? You know you want it as much as I do, or else you wouldn't
be waiting her for me."
On this point she was wrong, I wanted to be just about anywhere else on
the planet right now. I was being black mailed in to doing these
things.
"Well, I guess I'll have to make a few more stops to cover the
difference, which means you'll just be stuck here that much longer."
Please, I pleaded with my eyes, take the money, just let me go, and
leave me alone.
She put her arms on my shoulders, as if she were about to hug me. Her
perfume filled my head. Between her scent, the fear, and the heat I was
having trouble not fainting.
"You know something sissy? You're my first. Not my first fuck, no, not
by any means. You're the first one I've dressed up and tied up."
I had no idea what she was talking about. She must have read it in my
eyes.
"You don't really think you're the only boy I have tied up in this town
right now, do you?" she laughed. "Right now there's a quarterback from
one of the high-school football teams, tied face down, spread eagle on
his bed, gagged with the strap on I'm going to ream him with later
tonight."
My god, she was insane.
"No, you're hardly the only one. But you were my first." Mockingly she
said, "You have a special little place in my heart."
I was loosing it by this point.
"You probably don't remember too much about the night we met. You were
pretty drunk. I probably didn't even need to use the date rape drug,
but I was still experimenting. The funny thing is we did in fact have
sex, several times. And I must say, the big head may have been out of
it, but the little head was wide awake, and raring to go. And, yes, I
did tape it. Now a days, I don't even bother having sex or tape it. I
just drug them, tell them I have a tape, remind them who my Dad is, and
they fall in line. "But you..." she said tweaking my nose, "you
actually got a taste of my steaming pussy."
The last remark was dripping with sexuality. Those eyes, her eyes,
Katrina's eyes.
"You know..." she started as she rose up off me, kneeled down, and
started messing with the bondage gear. How could she possibly secure me
more?
"..I'll be graduating high-school soon. Then its off to college.
Daddy's buying me a house, I don't want mess with dorms or the greek
scene. That's too juvenile. Nope, I'm getting my own place. With some
of the money I've earned over the last couple of years..."
Earned?
"..I'm going to redecorate the basement, and turn it into a full fledged
dungeon. A couple of tiny cells for keeping slaves, racks, crosses,
whips, chains, you name it, I'll have it in spades."
While she was speaking, I felt her push up my dress, exposing my
privates. I felt her pull down the hose and either cut or tear the
crotch of the hose. She then pulled my ball sack out along with the
thong. She massaged them, making me even more horny. When they were
swinging freely, she separated my testicles with the thong, and then
wrapped something around the sack to keep them this way. In all the
times she tied me, she'd never done anything sexual, other than use her
sexuality to torment me. This was the first time she actually touched
me sexually. She then started working with some piece of equipment, and
I felt a tremendous pull on my scrotum. Had I been able to jump, I
would have, but all I could do is groan in pain.
"Oh shut up you big baby."
She kept working out of my line of vision while she continued, "What do
you think about being one of my slaves in my new dungeon? Keep you tied
up in a cell while I'm at school. When I come home, you dress up like a
little French maid, fishnets and all, you do the cooking, the cleaning,
and in the evening while I'm studying and relaxing, you can wiggle
around in what ever position I tie you. Sound like fun? It does to
me."
I felt the continued pull on my balls as she stood up. She moved her
head so she was no more than a few inches from my eyes.
"After all, you were my first." And she gave a laugh that made my hair
stand on end.
As she walked away , I saw she had a piece of rope in her hand, and I
had no doubt where the other end was fastened. She walked over to a
pulley that was screwed into the base of the wall that I hadn't noticed
before. She threaded the rope through it, then up to another pulley,
higher up on the wall, and then out to a yard arm nailed to the wall,
outside the shack. She picked up a rusty old bucket and tied the rope
off to the handle, and then let it drop. It felt like my balls were
torn off, I grunted loudly.
"Such a wimp."
"On the other hand, if you don't want to, I guess I could always turn
you over to my little sister. She's buying my client list from me.
She's a real fast learner, and quite the little sadist too. She's got
this thing about sissies' assholes. I haven't made up my mind yet. For
some reason I think it'd be fun to take two heterosexual male slaves,
and force them to become bi. You know, tie them up real tight into a
'69' position, and whip them till they suck each other off."
This could not get any worse.
"I haven't decided." She waked over, picked up her lantern, and moved
to the door way. She stood there facing me. "You know, they're calling
for a big rain storm this evening, several inches or more." Then I got
the idea of the rig with the pail. The rain would fill it up, pulling
even harder on my balls.
She bent over and picked up a fist sized rock and looked at me. "But
you know what? I don't think its going to rain all that hard." With
that she dropped the rock in the bucket. I screamed as lightning bolts
went off before my eyes. "Because you were so inept in getting me my
money, now I have to make some more stops to make up for it. So it'll
be a while before I come back to untie you. If things go well, I should
be back around sun up. Unless I decide to sleep in. See all the
problems you cause me?" She smiled that wicked smile, she flashed those
beautiful eyes, turned around and left me in the dark.
Katrina is a bitch.
Lauryn
- 08.06.2022
- 32
- 0
