Curiosity Skinned the Kat
Note: Just a heads up to my usual readers, this is definitely not a lesbian themed story.
Katrina sat on her sofa, another Friday gone to waste. She was bored, and tired of serving the sentence imposed upon her by her overbearing mother. It had been three weekends in a row now, since she had come home at four in the morning, stinking drunk.
Of course, her mother had been sitting up, waiting for her arrival, and confronted her as soon as she walked in the door.
“Where the hell have you been young lady?” She scolded, looking at the kitchen clock that hung over the stove. “Do you know what time it is?”
When she began speaking it was more than a little obvious that she was dead drunk, slurring her words and then steadying herself against an available countertop. “Fuck off, bitch.” Was all she remembered saying before the eye-opening slap that sent her careening to the floor.
The grounding was probably warranted, and she knew that. She had broken the rules, big time, and even insulted her mother in the process. So, it was hard to justify violating the punishment. It was a month of coming straight home from school and not leaving the house on weekends. Katrina tried to remind herself that it was only one more week. “Just one more week.” She whispered under her breath, as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.
The following week dragged on as the three before it had, and she was really developing a serious animosity towards her mother, who seemed to like nothing better than to remind her of her stunted social status.
So it was with some serious elation that the grounding finally came to an end, but with some serious implications. She was to stick to the rules that her mother had laid out, which really weren’t that stringent, considering she had only just turned eighteen during her punishment. She was to be home by ten on school nights, and by midnight on the weekend. They were rules she would have to live under unless she wanted to suffer severe consequences.
All that first week she had been stretching the rules as far as she dared, walking in the door at precisely ten. She would even stand outside to make sure she didn’t come in until the exact hour. Why she did this was more than likely some form of oppositional defiance, but so be it.
Friday finally came, and she knew where she was headed. There had been talk all week of a party going on at a local university. She knew she was forbidden to go to those parties, but how could she possibly resist. All her friends told her not to go, that they were really too wild, and there had been some trouble. Katrina wasn’t listening. She went by herself.
Walking through campus, she had some idea where the party was supposed to be held. All of the fraternities and sororities were in the same place, on a street casually known as Greek Row.
Once she got close, she just followed the beat of the louder than loud music that emanated from a large mansion-type house. People poured in and out of the doors to the place, and whatever was happening inside, she most definitely wanted to be part of.
Katrina had the advantage of looking much older than she was, with her long blonde hair and mature physique, she slipped right through the guys that seemed to be guarding the doors. “Welcome to Phi Delts, gorgeous.” One of them had said as she passed. Eating up the compliment, she followed the stream of people into a large hall, where the music was nearly deafening.
A plastic glass was shoved into her hand, filled with beer, which was at least marginally cold. Quickly downing the liquid in a few gulps, it was replaced almost at once. She wondered whether there were frat members strictly assigned to getting girls wasted. By the fourth beer, Katrina was feeling the buzz.
Everything was going great, and she had danced with at least a few different guys. Some of them were a little more forward than others, copping a feel here and there. Katrina didn’t object and it soon became obvious that more and more guys were having their way with her.
“You wanna see something fun? Come on.” A tall dark guy had suggested. Being too drunk to object, she followed along. They wove through a couple of hallways and then down some stairs to a much darker, more sinister-looking room.
The music was more metal, really hard and acid, and black lights illuminated everyone and everything in a strange fluorescent glow. At one end of the room, there was some activity, and she was led by the wrist to the gathering.
A throne-like chair was elevated on a sort of pedestal and was splattered haphazardly with fluorescent paint. It was what was happening in the chair that took Katrina by surprise.
A girl, who couldn’t possibly be much older than she was being held in place by two rather beefy-looking guys. All her clothes had been cut away and lay in tatters on the floor by her feet.
Katrina gawked at the girl trying to make out what was happening, but the black lights and the darkness of the corner they were in made it difficult. She was handed another glass, only this wasn’t beer, but something much stronger. Katrina knew she shouldn’t, but she quickly downed the burning liquid as the guy egged her on, from beside her.
The music changed, and so did the lighting for a moment. It was at that moment that she realized what was happening to the girl on the throne. Her hair was being shaved off. Two holes were cut in the high back of the throne, through which hands emerged, each grasping a hair clipper.
Katrina watched in horror as the screaming girl was divested of her long brown hair. The blindly wielded machines left a patchwork of messy stubble in their wake, and had even removed an eyebrow in their haphazard frenzy of depilation.
As horrified by the spectacle as Katrina was, the hard liquor that she had been given a minute before was kicking in, and she couldn’t help but be fascinated as well. Most of the guys around her seemed equally mesmerized by the show. It then occurred to her that she was the only girl, aside from the unfortunate creature being shorn in the throne.
Katrina was more worried about what was going to happen to the girl after the shaving, because with all her clothes ripped away, she was prime material for whatever these oversexed frat boys wanted to do.
The clippers had done all the damage they could have, and all Katrina could manage to think was at least all the patchy stubble was gone. The girl was completely bald, including both eyebrows in the end.
Suddenly, the two guys holding the girl down let go, and she leaped from the chair like she was launched on a spring. Naked and bald, the unfortunate thing disappeared into the crowd.
With the throne now empty, all eyes fell on Katrina. On the back of the chair, she read the words: SIT AND BE JUDGED, apparently stenciled over the pop art splatterings of paint.
Realizing all too late why she had been brought there, she tried to run, but was easily captured by two frat boys eager to see her ‘be judged’.
Kicking and screaming, she was dragged backward into the throne, where two strong hands latched mercilessly onto her arms, holding her firmly against the back.
Suddenly there were hands emerging on either side of her, except they no longer held the evil clippers. For a moment, Katrina thought she might be spared that fate. Instead, the hands began tearing at her clothes, ripping open her blouse with a single motion, the displaced buttons glowing in the black lights as they flew off into the crowd, which had now gathered eagerly around her.
Just as effortlessly, her bra was torn from her body, disappearing with the remains of her blouse back through the holes. The hands appeared once again, and began rubbing over Katrina’s exposed breasts, which seemed to have exactly the opposite effect she thought she should have. Rather than shy away, Katrina thrust her chest out, encouraging even more rough handling as the hands kneaded her supple flesh until they ached from the attention.
Eventually, they worked their way down to the cut-off shorts she wore, grasping the leg holes and ripping upward, they tore the material open to the waistband. In an instant, her panties were gone and what was left of her jean shorts was pulled back through the holes.
Realizing that she was now totally naked and exposed before all of these leering eyes, only served to excite her even more. So as the hand moved between her legs, they encountered a very wet and excited Katrina.
As if trained in the art, the hands began to work at her clitoris and virgin opening, and she found it impossible to hide her arousal any longer. She thrust her hips forward, meeting the hands of her tormentor greedily. This was a sex show, and she was the star. Suddenly, she imagined everyone that stared at her, having pulled out their cocks, stroking them in sympathy for her abject humiliation.
Katrina rocked in the chair with the rhythm of the hands which worked their fingers in and out of her, stealing her maidenhead in the cruelest arena imaginable. She lost count of the number of times she came, but when she finally fell back into the throne, she was coated in a sheen of her own sweat and juices. The air around her reeked of her singular passion, and that alone was humiliation enough to rouse her out of her sexually induced stupor.
Only then, when she had begun to regain some semblance of thought, did the hands reappear. The men holding her down, renewed their efforts, knowing that there would be a struggle.
‘There they are’ Katrina mouthed, as each hand that had stimulated her so wonderfully, now held an insipid hair clipper. Katrina looked up at the two men restraining her so diligently and shook her head, smiling. As if reading her thoughts, the men released their grasp. She could have run. She would have been caught, and having betrayed their trust, be held even more roughly to the throne.
Instead, Katrina sat herself up in the ornate chair and waited for the inevitable to happen. What she had imagined happening before, was no longer imaginary. Cocks were being stroked, openly before her, and she couldn’t help but imagine sucking each and every one.
She heard the whirr of the clippers at each ear as they came to life. As she was not struggling as the other girl had done, the actions of the hands were more measured, more precise. She felt the hot metal of the bare blades slide up both sides of her head at once, to be followed by blonde rivulets of silk sliding to the floor at her feet. A strip at a time, she felt the cool air of the old basement against the barren skin of her scalp.
Now, the very men who had held her captive, stroked their impressive cocks only inches from her face. She wanted desperately to taste them, to feel their massive size stretch her mouth as she took them.
Instead, she was being shaved. The throne was slowly being enveloped by her hair as it fell away from her balding head. She knew, deep inside, that she should be horrified, but she was not. With each stroke of the blades, her pussy grew wetter, her renewed arousal filling the air with her scent and driving the rigid cocks closer to coming.
Dutifully, she dipped her head forward so the blindly guided blades could rid her of the last of her once-glorious blonde mane. As the last of her hair slithered down her sweat-soaked back, she leaned back between the holes, as if daring the mystery hands to finish.
They knew where they were as the blades came to rest parallel to each other, just above the bridge of her nose. Slowly, painstakingly, the humming machines slid over Katrina’s brows, removing them to the very skin beneath.
She felt it now, the demon that drove her passion, and it forced her to slither out of the throne, and onto the floor, where the cushion of her hair and that of the girl before her made her bed.
The intruder was poised at her opening, and she opened her legs to him, inviting him to be the first. Tipping her bald head back she sensed the presence of the other, and opened her mouth wantonly, the rigid cock feeling even better than she imagined as it slipped over her tongue to lodge in the back of her throat.
Others knelt around her, and she reached out with her hands until she found a random cock with each and encouraged their climax.
As the rhythm of the pounding between her legs came to a crescendo, she tasted the salty gift from the one who used her mouth as his cunt. Suddenly, through groans and cries of lust, each left their mark on her. Filled within and covered without, she was left in a puddle of their making, of her making.
Katrina tried to lift her head, but she was without any energy at all. She felt dirty, used, and ashamed, but knew this was what she deserved; what she wanted.
The insistent buzzing near her ear was a distraction, and she realized that the very one who had shaved her had also used her, his clippers still running on the floor next to her.
The buzzing grew louder, more insistent.
“Katrina! Get up, you’re going to be late!” The annoying sound of her mother’s voice echoed through the door. She opened her eyes, reaching over to silence the buzzing alarm on the nightstand beside her bed.
Her sheets were soaked, and her pussy drooled as she dragged herself out of the bed. She reached up and realized that her hair was still intact, although very much matted to her skull with sweat. Had it all been a dream? Katrina couldn’t decide whether she was disappointed or elated.