Bitch v Witch.
By Iron Nick
Katrina Fairchild was born to a twenty year old single mother. Her mother was prostitute and scam artist who specialized in drugging her Johns and robbing them blind. She was also an expert shoplifter and pickpocket. When Katrina was eleven, her mother had taught her how to steal and lie with straight face, but then her mother was arrested for the third time for theft and on top of other arrests for prostitution was sentenced to prison for seven years. Katrina was sent to foster homes where she constantly getting into trouble and running away. Finally, when she was sixteen, she ran away for good.
Katrina was a beautiful young girl. She had long, thick, honey blonde hair, and sparking green eyes set above high cheekbones. She used her looks to her advantage by seducing and robbing men as her mother had done. At nineteen, she enrolled in a small business school and learned word processing and other computer skills. She then used her new skills to run a new scam. She would get a job a secretary or receptionist, seduce a married businessman then blackmail him by threatening to tell his wife or file sexual harassment charges. Sometimes she would just trick a man into getting into a compromising situation then threaten to scream “sexual harassment” unless she was paid off. She worked this scam beautifully. It always ended with a nice payoff and usually a bogus letter of recommendation thrown in.
For eight years she kept this up. She made enough money to keep her in nice clothes, a convertible VW Beetle, and nice apartments. Another business asset she invested in was fake breasts. Nice, firm, round D cups. She would pull her scam a couple of times in a city them move on to another city.
She found a city of about 500,000 that had recently experienced a nice boom in the tech industry. It had nice new suburbs, new stores, and a fancy country club. Katrina took a job as a secretary in one of the older businesses in town. It was a marketing and public relations business. The business had helped lure many of the newer businesses to town. Her boss was a Mr. Walter Bibber, a gregarious middle aged man with a wife and three kids. He was one of the partners of the business and was very successful. He was easy going and trusting, and Katrina drooled over the prospect of an easy mark.
Katrina took her time settling in. She dressed rather conservatively, but always showed just a hint of cleavage or had enough slit in her skit to show just a bit of thigh. She always smiled and was very friendly. She never gave anyone any reason to suspect anything nefarious about her. She complimented Mr. Bibber on his dress and friendliness, but never in a way that was fawning or superficial. When asked about herself, she would let slip details about the fact she had a hard upbringing, but never much detail and always with a sad look that elicited much sympathy.
She kept getting closer and closer to Mr. Bibber, becoming like a step daughter to him. After a few weeks, she decided it was time to make her move. There was an office party Friday after work to celebrate a combination of a senior partner’s retirement and a new client. Katrina urged Walter to have some drinks then asked him if she could confide something personal to him that was difficult for her to talk about and had to do with her past. She convinced him to talk in his office, which was down the hall from the conference room where the party was.
She brought two drinks with her and gave one to Walter. “Here’s to a wonderful, understanding, generous, sympathetic boss,” she said, and the two clinked glasses and took drinks.
“What is it you need to confide?” asked Walter.
Katrina walked closer to him and took his hand. “Well, it’s just that…” She then leaned in and kissed him hard.
Walter at first was too stunned to resist, he then had a moment of weakness, and let her kiss him before pushing her away. He was breathing heavy and stumbled back. “What’s gotten into you?!”
“Oh, nothing,” said Katrina before licking her lips, “but we are here…alone…in your office with booze, and you have lipstick on you now.” She then ran her hands through her hair to muss it up.
“What are you getting at?” asked Walter.
“Just that it looks like we just had a little fling,” said Katrina. “Poor little innocent me was lured into your office. What do you think this will look like?”
“Exactly what are you getting at?” asked Walter after wiping lipstick off of his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Well, for a nominal fee, we can just keep this between the two of us,” said Katrina.
“Blackmail, huh, I get it,” said Walter before a snort of derision. “Let me warn you first, however, you know not with what you are messing.”
“What are you going to do, Walter? Even the hint of sexual harassment will damage this firm. It’s not the 1950s.”
“I was thinking about the 1650s,” said Walter.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” asked a confused Katrina.
“It means, you can forget about this, or you can suffer the consequences.”
“What are you going to do, Walt?”
“Nothing. I will do nothing to you. I don’t have that power.”
“What power?” asked Katrina, “the power to fire me?”
“Humph!” snorted Walter, “Fired will be the least of your worries. I’m giving you one chance. Resign tomorrow, or suffer the consequences.”
“Walter, Walter, Walter,” said Katrina as she walked up to her boss, “don’t you think I’ve done this before? I’ll let you think about it overnight.” She blew him a kiss and walked out of the office.
In the hall, Katrina worked up some tears then took her purse from her desk. She waited until she saw a coworker come of out of the conference room to head to the restroom, then she ran down the hall and past the coworker and out of the building.
Katrina went straight home. She did not want anyone to see her out enjoying herself as it might destroy her story. She opened a bottle of wine and watched some TV. After getting very tipsy with the wine on top of the drinks from work, she went to bed.
That night, Katrina had a horrible nightmare. She dreamt four women came into her bedroom. Each woman wore a black cowl and robe, and she could not see their faces. The four women grabbed her and shoved something in her mouth. Katrina tried to spit it out, but one of the women held her mouth shut while murmuring something unintelligible. In her dream, she blacked out and awoke naked on a stone table in a cave dimly illuminated with candles. The four women stood around her. They were murmuring something over Katrina. Katrina tried to move, but all she could move were her eyes. The women moved around the stone table. One forced a vile tasting liquid down Katrina’s throat then rubbed her neck while murmuring something. Another woman rubbed something into Katrina’s hair, while murmuring something else. After the two women were done, they flipped Katrina over onto her stomach. Katrina felt pin pricks in her butt cheeks and heard more murmuring. The last thing in the dream were the woman inserting things into Katrina’s pussy, anus, and mouth before she passed out.
Katrina woke up groggy as her clock radio come on at 7:00 am. “Good Monday morning!” said the DJ.
“Monday?” thought Katrina. She propped herself up on her elbows. She looked around her room. Sunlight was coming in through the curtain. She felt different but could not put her finger on it. She then noticed she was naked. She tried to remember if she went to bed naked. She swung her legs over to the side of the bed. She looked down and noticed her feet seemed to be further from the floor. She leaned forward and some of her long hair fell down. She noticed it was pink.
“What the fuck?” She said aloud. “My voice!” Her voice sounded like the voice of a cartoon mouse. “What happened to my hair and voice?!” she said. She stood up and stumbled into the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror above the sink. “OH MY GOD!” she shrieked in her high pitched voice.
Not only was Katrina’s hair bright pink, her eyebrows were also pink. Her lips were bright red, and she had a gaudy blue eye shadow on. She ran water and filled her hands with water before splashing it on her face and rubbing the water on her face. She looked up, but the make-up was not smeared at all. She rubbed the back of her hand against her mouth and pushed hard, but whatever was coloring her lips was not coming off. She felt woozy and walked back towards her bed. Along the way, she passed a full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. It was then she caught her profile. She shrieked again. She reached down and behind her. Her butt was huge. It stood out so far she could have balanced a cup of coffee on it. “What the fuck is happening!” she screamed. She walked to her bed and sat down. She put her head in her hands and wept.
For two hours, Katrina just sat around her apartment. She wrapped herself in a large, plush bathrobe as none of her panties, pants, or skirts would fit over her extra-large ass. At 9:15, her phone rang, but she let it go to voicemail. It was work asking her if she would be in today. Katrina cursed the fact she had no family or close friends to confide in. Her lifestyle led to her being a loner, and other people were just to be used to get her things she wanted. She paced around, tried a few more times to get the make-up off her face to no avail, turned the TV on, but did not pay attention to it, and wracked her brain trying to figure out what the hell had happened.
Several minutes after the phone call at work, there was a knock on the door. Katrina peered through the peephole and saw a face she had only seen in photographs. It was Walter Bibber’s husband, Rebecca. She had a smug look on her face and was staring at the peephole. Katrina opened the door as wide as the chain on it would allow. “What do you want?” she asked forgetting for a moment her voice was now high pitched and squeaky.
“Oh, just came by to see how you are enjoying your new body, hair, face, and voice,” said the older woman.
“What the fuck do you know about this?!” said Katrina. She was angry, but her voice made her sound ridiculous, not angry.
Rebecca laughed. “You sound so hilarious when you’re angry. Let me in, and I’ll explain everything.”
Katrina closed the door and removed the chain. She opened the door and glared at the Rebecca. For a woman who had to close to 50, Rebecca Bibber was stunning with chestnut hair in thick bob, just a few wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, and a body of woman half her age. She was wearing a long black skirt and a red blouse. She had a large purse swung over her shoulder. She breezed past Katrina who closed the door behind her.
“Now tell me,” said Katrina still trying to sound as angry as she felt, “what the fuck is going on?”
Rebecca sat down on recliner in the living room. “Shut up and kneel down, bitch,” she said sternly but with a sneer.
Katrina wanted to protest, but she found herself sinking to her knees. She could not talk, and her anger changed to fear.
“Nod if you had a really bizarre dream last night, Katrina.”
Katrina nodded.
“It was not a dream, Katrina,” said Rebecca, dropping the sneer.
Katrina’s eyes grew wide.
“Let me fill you in on a little background.” Rebecca crossed her legs and straightened her skirt. “The women in my family have for generations been witches, for lack of a better word. We were driven out of New England and settled here generations ago. Since then our goal has been to live peaceful and prosperous lives. We stay out of the limelight. You’ll never see us on any Housewives reality show. We make sure our families have all we need and our husbands are successful. The business you work for is run by four men, all married to the women in my family. We four make sure that our husbands are successful, and of course, our husbands know about us but say nothing.” She paused and smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear.
Katrina just knelt and stood still, amazed by the story.
“I believe my husband told you to just walk away Friday night. He warned you, but you set out to blackmail him. He came home that night and told me what happened. That evening, my sisters and I visited you. Your door and locks and chain were of no protection. First we made sure you would obey us and answer our questions honestly and fully, then we had you confess all of your past sins of being a home wrecker, liar, blackmailer, and all around deceitful, lying, selfish bitch.”
Katrina started to tremble and sweat.
“We then took you to our family coven house, or cave if you like. There we changed your body, your hair, and gave you that delightfully trampy permanent make-up. We also made some other changes that haven’t made themselves known to you yet.” Rebecca checked the small silver watch on her wrist. “It’s still early.” She looked up from the watch and at Katrina. You can ask any questions you may have.”
“What other changes,” Katrina asked in a trembling voice.
Rebecca smiled. It was a smile that sent shivers down Katrina’s spine. “Oh, since you like using your sexuality to fuck people,” said the older woman, “my sisters and I decided you should be the one being fucked.”
“What?” asked Katrina trembling and sweating more profusely.
“By the end of the day today, you will need a man to put his penis in your mouth. Staring at noon, you will start to crave performing oral sex on a man. As you do blow him, you will be overcome with sexual delight.” Rebecca paused and enjoyed the shocked look on Katrina’s face.
“Is that all?” asked Katrina.
“No, you will love it so much, you will crave it so much that if you go three days without sucking a man’s cock, you will have withdrawals much like a drug addict. Oh, and there’s more. We can’t forget that magnificent new ass of yours!”
“Oh please, no more!” pled Katrina.
“Shut up!” said Rebecca. “Did you ever show mercy to any of the men you screwed over? Did you think of how you may have ruined lives or careers or marriages? By the end of the day tomorrow, you will crave a cock up your ass. As you are fucked up the ass, you will be in the throes of sexual ecstasy and orgasm over and over and over. If you go more than three days without being fucked up the ass, you will have withdrawals again. But there’s a catch. You can never have sex with the same man more than once a week. If you do, it won’t satisfy you, and to show you I’m not all evil, you are now immune to STDs, and your asshole will always remain tight no matter how many cocks it receives.
Katrina’s lips quivered, and a tear ran down her face.
Rebecca stood up. “Now, no one will take you seriously with that hair, trampy make-up, giant ass, and ridiculous, squeaky voice.” She snapped her fingers. “I forgot. Until you reach menopause, that hair color and make-up are permanent. If you attempt to dye your hair, your scalp will burn, and the dye will not work. The make-up cannot be covered because any make-up you put on to cover it will burn like acid. You can forget about getting a job where you have to be taken seriously. No more receptionist or secretary jobs. I think a stripper or cocktail waitress is more suited to you; in fact, I’ve already sent a letter of recommendation to the Thorny Rose. It’s a strip club in town. You will love dancing there; in fact, the more you dance there, the more you’ll love it. I’m sure you’ll be a big hit.”
Rebecca stood up and walked over to Katrina. “I think you need a name matching your new look. From now on, insist people call you ‘Kitty,’ and refer to yourself as such. You will seek employment at the Thorny Rose, and use the stage name ‘Kitty Bootay.’”
Katrina just whimpered.
“Don’t worry, Kitty,” said Rebecca patting her on the head, “I said you’ll love your new job. Eventually, you’ll love it so much you won’t be able to imagine doing anything else, but you’ll always know that being a lying, scheming, bitch is what got you there. Now wait here. I have something in the car for you.”
Katrina just knelt and waited. She could not stop trembling. A minute later, Rebecca walked in front of her and dropped a pink shopping bag in front of Katrina.
“I know you have nothing that fits now,” said Rebecca, “so I bought you some hot pants and micro-minis that fit your new size. Wear them to the Thorny Rose when you go there today. I’m sure the owner would not mind if you gave him a blow job either. It would be a nice way to introduce yourself, Kitty.” She patted Katrina on the head again. “Now, stay away from my family, or you will really suffer.” She leaned down close to the younger woman. “You know I can do it too. When I leave, get dressed and head out to the Thorny Rose. Have a nice life…bitch!”
Rebecca strolled out and slammed the door behind her.