****** Katrina's Submission by Cat ******
===============================================================================

Katrina's Submission


At 7:00 p.m., as instructed, Katrina removed her clothing and knelt in front of
the door to her apartment, head down. He had keys now, and at 7:30 p.m., she
heard them turning in the lock as he let himself inside. She did not look up.

He examined the room and saw that she had followed his directions perfectly. A
Bach sonata played on the stereo and the room was dimly lit by the glow of
several candles. A white sheet covered the living room floor and a bucket of
ice held a bottle of sweet red wine. Grant came over to Katrina's kneeling
figure and grasped the hair at the back of her head. He turned her face upward
toward his. "Hello my pretty slut," he said, as he bent to kiss her. She closed
her eyes in pleasure at the warm touch of his lips on hers. She returned his
kiss, passionately, sucking his tongue into her mouth and stroking it with her
own. He made a trail from her lips down the side of her neck and when he
reached her shoulder, he sank his teeth into her warm flesh. She gasped and her
eyes flew open as he bit her hard enough to leave an imprint of his teeth.
"Thank you, Sir." She murmured.

"Lift up your hair," Grant instructed. He stood behind her and slid a collar
around her neck. Katrina heard the click as he closed it with a small padlock.
"You belong to me now," he said. "You are my property to use as I please. You
will do what I tell you, when I tell you, without hesitation. Is that clear?"
She nodded. She wondered whether he could hear how hard her heart pounded in
response to his statement. It aroused her to think of herself as his possession
- his pet, his fuck toy, his whore. Anything he wanted her to be. And though
she trusted him completely, she was not without fear. His mind was clever and
creative, and he was a sadist. Katrina knew that Grant could hurt her without
remorse. He would push her to her limits and as far beyond them as he could
safely take her. She was collared and belonged to him until he decided to
release her. Her hand flew to her neck and she caressed the cold steel band
that encircled it, with its solitary ring in front.

"Look in the mirror," he told her. She stood and walked to the bathroom. She
examined herself in the mirror and was surprised that she did not look
different. She was the same Katrina - same shoulder length brown hair, same
wide golden-green eyes -- but with a collar. And it was beautiful: a stainless
steel band that curved around a thick strap of latigo leather. It was engraved
with a Celtic knotwork design and her name, "Katrina." Beneath her name, it
read "Grant's pet." He grasped the O ring and turned her to face him. "Do you
accept?" Grant asked.

She nodded. "Yes, I do, Master." She lifted her head expectantly for his kiss
and he complied, plundering her mouth until she was breathless. Then he shoved
her away. "Now get on your knees, " He ordered.

Katrina dropped instantly to the floor. He clipped a leash to the ring of the
collar and led her back to the living room. She crawled docilely beside his
six-foot figure. As she knelt before him, he stroked her soft naked skin. His
fingers found her nipple, and he pinched it hard. She pulled away and Grant
slapped her across the face, making her head reel. "Stay," he said. With
difficulty she remained motionless as he grasped her brown nipple between thumb
and forefinger and squeezed and twisted. Her eyes closed, and he knew she was
trying to erase the pain from her mind. "Look at me," he said. She stared into
his warm brown eyes, which bored intently into her own. "FEEL the pain." She
whimpered softly as pain darted through her breast. Finally he released it, and
she sighed in relief as he gently stroked the bruised nipple.

Grant refastened the leash to the small gold ring that pierced the hood of her
clitoris. She winced as he tugged the leash and made her crawl after him into
the bedroom, where he unclasped it. "Stand up," he told her. As she did so, he
forced her against the wall. He revealed the two eyebolts hidden behind the
Monet print hanging before her. After locking her wrists in fur-lined cuffs, he
attached each one to an eyebolt. Using a spreader bar and ankle cuffs, he
positioned Katrina's legs in a wide V. "I like that," Grant said and smacked
her smooth, freshly shaved pussy. She tried to wiggle against his hand and he
swatted her behind. "You naughty slut. Don't worry, I'll take care of that,
too." He chuckled and stood back to admire his slave, her body displayed for
his use.

Unable to resist the invitation presented by her round, ripe ass, he spanked
her firmly. His hands were large and strong, and she was acutely aware of each
blow to her voluptuous behind. Katrina bit her lip as her ass became pinker and
pinker. Grant continued until her pale skin glowed red and tingled with heat.
She sighed, enjoying the touch of his skin on hers. With one hand, he grabbed
her hair and pulled her head back; he slid the other between her legs and
parted the folds of her inner labia. "Your cunt is dripping," he whispered into
her ear, obviously pleased. "You like that, don't you, whore?" "Yes, Master,
thank you." She replied, blushing. "You'd like me to fuck that warm, wet cunt,
wouldn't you?" She nodded. "Yes Sir, I'd love for you to fuck me." "When I'm
ready, bitch," Grant responded, letting go of her head with a jerk.

He blindfolded her then, strapping it tightly over her eyes. A flogger thudded
on her back, and she arched to welcome it. It was a deer flogger, very soft,
with no sting and little thud. The tails felt like fingers massaging her
shoulders. When she was warmed up, he exchanged this whip for a heavier one,
pausing to fondle her naked body: squeezing her breasts, rubbing her clitoris,
caressing her ass. She moaned and wriggled, trying to push her ass against his
crotch. He stepped away and hit her harder. Katrina caught her breath as he
rained repeated blows over her increasingly tender buttocks. "Oh yes," she said
softly. Grant stopped and soon she felt his gloved finger probing her tight
anus. Her face flushed as he inserted a finger. He was pushing lubricant into
her hole, thrusting his finger in and out. Then he began forcing a large anal
plug into her opening. He shoved it in without hesitation, despite her small
cry of pain as the thickest part stretched her wide. "Good Katrina," he said,
stroking her back. He pushed it deeper and she gasped. Then he resumed whipping
her. The intense blows to her bottom caused her to clench her cheeks tightly
together, squeezing the plug inside. He delivered a few well-aimed blows to the
plug itself, and with each one he heard her indrawn breath. "Such a good cunt,"
he said, smiling.

Small purple bruises decorated her shoulders, backside, and thighs. She could
feel the soreness creeping in. But he was not finished. Grant withdrew a
bleached rattan cane, about half an inch thick from a slender tube. She was
completely unaware of his intentions until he swatted her behind with the cane.
A thin red line instantly appeared. He made a neat row of lines from the top of
her buttocks almost to her calves. The lines puffed into welts. The cane hurt
her more than any other instrument he had, and she struggled to endure it. She
held her breath between the blows. With each one she let out a small hiss of
air. He ran his hand lightly over the bumpy welts. It was soothing and she
sighed. Then he carefully began to cross the welts. He did it with enough
pressure to sting but not break her skin. Her body shook; her agony was
intense. Her throat choked with emotion as tears forced their way between her
eyelids and rolled down beneath the blindfold. Katrina started to cry, as the
agony penetrated her veneer of imperviousness. She sobbed loudly, but he
stopped only briefly to reassure her with his touch. She reminded herself that
she suffered for his pleasure and she must continue to endure until he was
satisfied. And eventually he was satisfied. He set the cane down and smoothed
his hands affectionately over the red, black, and blue mottled flesh. "You
pleased me well, slut." Her tears stopped and she smiled, comforted by the
praise.

Her mind was dazed from the mixture of pleasure and pain, and she drifted into
that mental haven where she ceased to exist, except as an extension of him. He
unclipped her cuffs from the wall and removed the spreader bar and plug. Then
Grant drew her naked body tightly to his, and she ground her cunt against his
leather-clad thigh, trying to find relief for her throbbing clitoris. She was
so wanton, and he liked that about her. Such a good, sweet girl on the outside,
but inside she was wild, and he enjoyed bringing it out in her. He placed her
hand against his hard cock, and she stroked it through his pants. He pulled her
head down to his crotch and rubbed her face against it. She eagerly stuck out
her tongue and licked at his penis beneath the leather.

He helped her to her feet and then shoved her roughly onto the bed. The cool
sheets were delightful against her flaming ass. He pinned her down with his
strong body; she momentarily struggled to escape, and he laughed at her futile
attempts. Effortlessly he locked her wrist and ankle cuffs to the chains he had
looped around the legs of her bed. She was spread wide, the opening between her
legs moist and inviting. Grant reluctantly denied himself the pleasure of
fucking her until later. Katrina was taken aback when Grant started to whip her
tits with a heavy moose flogger. No one had ever whipped them before. They
jiggled and bounced, and he struck them again. He grasped her nipples and
lifted her body three inches above the mattress, bringing her mouth to his. It
hurt and she cried out before ferociously kissing him. He dropped her back on
the bed. "Do you like being my cunt?" he inquired. She nodded and spoke
breathlessly in her soft voice: "Yes, I love being your cunt, Master. I love
the way you use me and hurt me." "And I like hurting you," he said, pinching
her engorged clitoris, watching her squirm in discomfort.

Suddenly he removed himself from her, and she immediately missed the warmth of
his body covering her nakedness. But not for long. Something hot splashed down
onto her breast, trickling down her side. It was melted wax, and Grant dribbled
dots of the hot white substance all over her torso. She moaned as the dots
became splotches, then rivulets, that coated her stomach. He made concentric
patterns around each breast, culminating in a big glob on each sensitive
nipple. Using plastic clips, one for each side, he pinned back the folds of her
labia to her inner thighs, opening her like a flower, She grimaced at the
uncomfortable pinching sensation. He poured a handful of liquid wax on her
splayed vagina, and she let out a small squeal as it slid down the crack of her
ass.

"Oh God, it's so hot, Sir."

"Are you complaining?" he asked.

"No Sir," she denied. "If it pleases you, then it pleases me."

He nodded his approval, although she could not see it. He poured large
quantities of hot, red wax onto her pubic mound. Her flesh throbbed as the heat
penetrated her skin. She willed herself to remain still, to show him her
obedience. He covered her so completely in wax that she appeared to be wearing
wax panties. Next he did something that frightened her. He swept her hair back
from around her face and began dribbling wax on her cheeks. Although cooler,
the wax was still very warm. "Close your mouth," he said. She shook her head
slightly, in protest and in fear. He slapped her lightly across the face. "Are
you safewording?"

"No," she whispered.

"Then close your mouth," he responded. But she could not bring herself to obey.
He slapped her hard across the left cheek and then the right, with enough force
to turn her head. Her cheeks were red with fingermarks and stung hotly. She
felt tears gather in her eyes, and she closed her mouth. "That's better," he
said. And he did what she had feared. He poured the wax on her lips, sealing
them shut. He covered the entire lower half of her face, leaving just enough of
an opening for her to breathe through her nose.

He finished with the wax, and Katrina felt the blade of a knife sliding down
her neck. He held the tip against the soft spot of her throat. She trembled as
he carefully removed the wax from her face. She didn't move a millimeter as he
scraped the knife across her lips. Then he trailed it down her chest and began
prying the wax from her breasts. He pricked her nipple (actually with a pin,
although she believed it was the knife) and a small droplet of blood welled up.
Grant smeared his finger in the blood and held it to her lips. "Lick it," he
commanded, and she obeyed, licking and then sucking his finger. He used his
fingers to fuck her mouth, forcing them between her lips, shoving them down her
throat until she gagged. He slid the knife to her other breast and pried off
the wax. He used his hands to remove the wax panties, which came off in one
piece. "A souvenir," he said and placed it on the nightstand beside the bed. He
finally removed the two clips pinning back her labia, and she nearly screamed
as blood returned to the numbed area.

"Thank you Sir!" she groaned in relief, as he soothed the skin with his hand.
Grant unbuckled the blindfold; like a true sadist, he wanted to savor the fear
in her eyes as he used the knife to toy with her. He traced circles around her
breasts and dragged it down her chest to her abdomen and lower, to her clit.
She watched nervously as he parted the swollen lips of her mound with the
blade. He made a sudden motion, thrusting something inside her and she nearly
screamed, believing it was the blade. But she soon realized it was the thick
black handle of the knife that he had thrust into her sticky hole. He brought
the handle to her lips and made her lick the cream from it. "That's a good
Katrina," he said. "Lick it clean." When the handle was as good as new, Grant
did one more thing with the knife. He scratched the word "CUNT" onto her
abdomen. She felt humiliated at the deep red lines, never mind the pain as
blood surged into the scratches. It was such an ugly word, so debasing. He
loved to make her say it, because he knew how difficult it was for her. Every
time she looked at the marks later that week, she blushed and traced them with
her fingertip, thinking of what it meant to be his. And of course that was his
intention.

Grant now flogged her throbbing mound with a small rubber whip. The tails stung
like little pinpricks, and she flinched as he beat her right where her parted
legs met. Yet it began to feel sensuous, like a rubber tongue lapping at her
clitoris. She twisted her limbs in the ropes, yearning to get closer to it. He
whipped her harder until she became so sensitive that she could take no more.
She begged him to stop. "Sir, please, no more!" He ignored her, and it was only
when she cried out "I beg your mercy!" that he ceased. But only to replace the
whip with another instrument: a high-powered electric vibrator. He held the
round disk of the vibrator against her entire pussy - it was that big - and
flipped it on. Her clit was so sensitive from the whipping that the vibrations
hurt, and she whimpered like a puppy. He enjoyed her suffering, although he
knew it was only temporary and she would soon melt into the vibrations. As
usual, Grant was correct about her response. Before long, she was begging for
him to increase the power. She was arching her body against it and rotating her
hips as best she could in her bondage. He teased her by holding it just out of
reach above her little button. He inserted a long, ringed dildo into her vagina
and plunged it hard into her, striking her cervix. She moaned almost
incoherently with every thrust. He held the vibrator against the end of the
dildo, which began to vibrate inside her. The head of the vibrator still rested
against her clitoris as he teased and tormented her.

She strained against the ropes and pleaded with him for release. "Please Sir,
let me cum, oh God, please!"

"You aren't allowed," Grant said sternly.

"Master, please? I need to cum."

Again he denied her.

She was practically sobbing. "Please, Master, oh please. I can't stand it
anymore." He accelerated the speed on the vibrator and moved it in small
circles against her nub. Then he slid tweezer clamps tightly on her fat,
protuberant nipples. He loved the way they were mashed by each metal clip, and
he adjusted them even tighter. Generally nipple torture was unbearable to her,
EXCEPT when she was in a highly aroused state. Then she would beg him to do it
harder and harder. He lifted the chain that rested on her breasts and stretched
it taut. "Mmm," she sighed in ecstasy. He yanked it a few times but did not tug
off the clamps. "I'm going to cum, oh God, I'm going to cum. Please? Please let
me?" Her pleas were desperate. He flipped a switch on the vibrator, and its
droning buzz ceased. "No!" she exclaimed, with a half-sob in her throat. He
smiled at her evident frustration. She was pushing her hips toward him, aching
for him to continue. "Please, don't stop?" She looked at him with big, sad
eyes.

Grant grinned. "Those puppy dog eyes aren't going to work on me, my little
whore."

She blushed, embarrassed at how easily her manipulative attempts were checked.
"I'm sorry, Sir." She whispered.

"You should be," he replied and tore the clamps from her breasts. She let out a
small scream of pain; the sensation was intense.

He squatted over her face, his furry ass resting against her mouth. "Lick it,"
he said. She lapped at his asshole like a faithful pet, and he stroked his
shaft until it was rock hard. "Put your tongue in it." She stuck her tongue
inside, tasting him, and feeling embarrassed by the rush of pleasure this gave
her. "You're a dirty little slut, you know that Katrina?" She knew an answer
was not expected and she continued performing her task. He grabbed her head and
shoved it tighter against his ass until she couldn't breathe. He used his
riding crop to rub her clitoris as he suffocated her with his body. Her lungs
burned for air and he eased up a little, leaving her gasping. She had barely
caught her breath when he reseated himself, covering her nose and mouth. She
felt weak and lightheaded and strangely excited, realizing what control he had
over her. She was at his mercy - tied down and unable to move, dependent on him
for the very air she breathed. Ropes of sticky white semen shot out of his cock
and landed on her stomach.

He removed himself from her face and she took deep breaths. "What do you say?"
Grant asked.

"Thank you for letting me wipe your ass with my tongue, Sir." She responded.
Grant wiped the gooey globs of sperm from her body with a tissue. Then he
offered her a drink to cleanse her mouth.

He uncuffed her. "Get on your hands and knees." She did as commanded and
crouched on all fours on the bed. He blindfolded her again, and replaced the
spreader bar between her legs. He tethered her limbs to the bed. She could move
but she could not escape. A door opened and she heard footsteps entering the
room. "Hello John," her Master said. She knew better than to ask questions and
remained silent, waiting for his direction. "This is the whore I mentioned,"
Grant said. "For $100, you can fuck her in any hole you want. $100 a hole."
John nodded, his cock already stiff in his pants.

Her mind scrambled to place the name. Who was John? Grant leaned forward and
whispered in her ear. "Make me proud, little slut." And he stroked her hair,
which was tousled and damp from exertion.

"She's a pretty thing," John spoke, with a low, soft voice.

"Yeah she is," Grant agreed. "And she'll do anything I tell her, right whore?"

Her faced glowed crimson, "Yes, Master," she answered, her voice catching.

She felt him spreading the cheeks of her behind. "She has a very fuckable ass."

"Mm, very," John said as he peeled off his clothing, piling it neatly on the
dresser.

She heard the sound of a belt being pulled from a pair of pants. "Ask him to
fuck your ass," Grant demanded.

"Please fuck my ass, Sir," she said quietly. Grant slapped her with the strap
of the belt. "With enthusiasm," he suggested. He whispered in her ear again.
"You are my whore, now act like it."

She wiggled her bottom enchantingly at John and said in a low, husky voice, "I
want to feel your thick cock in my tight ass. Ram it deep into my ass. Fuck me
so hard!" Grant stroked her face with a finger, and she knew he was pleased.
"My cunt is so hot and wet; I need your cock!" she told John.

After donning a condom, John was ready to go. He rubbed a small amount of jelly
onto his cock, and knelt behind her. He stuffed himself into her asshole and
moaned as she tightened it around him. She winced as he latched his hands onto
her fleshy, welt-covered hips. "Oh baby!" he said as he fucked her, his hands
gripping her tightly. He pounded away at her, slapping his balls against her
ass. She rocked on her hands and knees and milked him with her anus. "That's
it, give me that cock!" she said as her tits bounced and jiggled, her nipples
scraping against the sheets.

Grant knelt in front of her and pushed his penis between her lips. She choked
as he shoved it deep into her mouth, until it touched the back of her throat.
But she continued to suck, swirling her tongue around its bulbous tip. He held
her head firmly between his palms and fucked her mouth. "Your mouth is like a
small pussy," he told her. The thought of these two cocks, one ramming in and
out of either end, made her incredibly hot and she leaned closer and closer to
the bed, trying to mash her clitoris on the mattress. Grant saw what she was
doing. "You are for our pleasure, cunt, not yours," he admonished, slapping her
breasts. She nodded her understanding and moved back on all fours; his cock
still filled her mouth, which prevented her from answering him.

John pulled his cock all the way out and shoved it hard back into her. Katrina
let out a muffled squeal against Grant's dick, as John repeatedly stabbed her
with his member. "Keep sucking," Grant said. Her anus was feeling stretched and
sore by the time John gave a final thrust and buried himself deep inside her.
She could feel his pole jerking against her belly as he shot his load, and she
moaned, half in pain and half in pleasure. Grant refused to cum in her mouth,
saving himself for other delights.

John tossed some dollar bills on her back. "That's your tip," he said. "I
enjoyed it."

She again turned pink in embarrassment at literally being used as a whore. "Not
a bad piece you got there," he said to Grant.

"Glad I ran into you on the train this afternoon." Katrina gasped in shock.

She heard John dress and Grant showed him out the door. "You gave me to a
stranger?" she exclaimed.

Annoyed, he grabbed her neck by the collar. "Get this straight. When you
accepted this collar, you became my property. I'll give you to anyone and
everyone I damn well please. Do you understand WHORE?" he asked, emphasizing
the word whore.

She hung her head in shame. "Yes, Master," she answered. "I understand."

Appeased, he added "I got some great video of that." Knowing he had preserved
her shame on film only made it deeper.

"What are you going to do with the tape?" she asked timidly. Grant smiled.
"Watch it...with my friends, of course." The thought of he and his friends
watching her perform and getting aroused caused a trickle of juice to slide
down her inner thigh.

This did not go unnoticed. He caught it with his finger and held it under her
nose. "Smell how hot that makes you. You know you really are an ordinary slut,
even if you pretend to be refined."

She nodded. "I am whatever you say I am, Sir."

"That's my pet," he said and kissed her.

"I have something for you," he said, with an evil glint in his eye.

"Yes Sir?" she questioned. He knelt in front of her and slid his cock back into
her mouth. She started to suck but he motioned her to be still. She wondered
what was going on when she felt something warm emitting from his penis. Tasting
its saltiness, she finally realized what he was doing. But her mind was so hazy
she did not object. She greedily swallowed the urine that streamed from his
cock and down her throat.

He had never used her mouth as his toilet before, and she experienced a strange
combination of pride and humiliation. He petted her like a soft pussycat.
"That's my good slut," he praised. "Good girl." When she had drank every last
drop, he untied her. He embraced her warmly before leading her to the living
room.

He laid her back on the sheet spread across the floor and poured the red wine
on her breasts. He licked it from her breasts and allowed some to dribble onto
her stomach. As he licked it up, he slid two of his large fingers inside her
pussy, which craved his cock. She moved rhythmically to his gentle stroking.
Soon he became more insistent, and his mouth greedily sucked and bit at her
nipples. She tangled her hands through his long hair and held him close to her,
passion building to a frenzy. He laid on top of her with his solid body and
thrust his long, hard penis inside her dripping box. He pumped her hard and she
wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling her body up to meet him. "Fuck me,
my little slutpet," he said and slammed deep into her. She clenched her vaginal
muscles around him as tightly as she could and he groaned. She could feel his
body rubbing against her hood ring, pulling and tugging it. The small sharp
pains made her tingle even more. They fucked wildly, like animals, making
unintelligible noises. He reached beneath her bottom and slid a finger into her
raw anus. After several minutes, perhaps fifteen or twenty, Grant shuddered and
expelled his semen into the condom within her. His cock twitched against the
walls of her snatch and she squeezed out every last drop.

He rolled over next to her and held her close for several minutes. She loved
feeling his warm, hard body against hers, her breasts nestled in the thick fur
of his chest. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. She could feel the
collar pressing into her flesh and was pleased at this reminder of her
ownership. After several minutes, he slapped her on the buttocks. "Pour me a
glass of wine," he said, "and then you can massage me." She had not cum this
evening, but she did not express this disappointment to him. Yet as she stood
to get up, Grant grabbed her by the wrist, pulled her back down, and pinned
her. "You didn't really think I'd forget did you?" he asked with a smile. She
blushed, because she HAD thought he had forgotten. She should have known
better. After all, this was his favorite part: bringing her to the verge of
orgasm and denying her as long as possible. He was training her to hold it for
him, to learn to cum when he told her and at no other time. And as she lay
there before him, her legs spread, parting her luscious, ripe lips for him to
access her with the vibrator, she decided that it was a very enjoyable lesson.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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