Living with Katrina Ch. 02

She had known she was going to end up in the sack with him. What she had not known was how much it would leave her scarred for life. At the end of that night, she packed and ran. No one amount of money was worth enduring another second of his depravity.

And now, six years later, Katrina Bauer dialled that number. Her fingers trembled with paroxysms of shock and denial, yet her mind guided her forward.

"H-hello," she said, her voice unsteady. She desperately tried to hide her fear.

There was no reply, just an eerie silence on the other end. She could hear a heavy breathing. He did not even need to speak to get her heart racing and her shaking with fear. Kat took a deep breath and composed herself. The next few words would be the hardest of her life to say.

"I am willing to do that last painting you wanted."

Still no words, but she heard a devious chuckle on the other end of the phone. The devil was clearly enjoying this. He could sense fear and he clearly felt the abject terror in her tone.

"How much is it worth to you?"

Silence. Then a voice spoke up, "Twenty five thousand dollars."

Six years. Yet the cold voice made her hair stand on end. A deluge of repressed memories flew out of a dark crevice of her mind as she pictured the man behind it. Twenty five thousand dollars was enough to pay the rent for several months.

The voice spoke again, "Make it exactly like I wanted it. Every detail."

For a long moment, Katrina was twenty-two again. She shivered with fear at every word.

"Why? Why do you want me to do this?"

"Because I can," was the simple reply and the line went dead.

Kat still clutched the phone to her ear. Her grip on it was so tight that her knuckles went pale. His mere voice had defiled her.

"It's okay," she said to herself. "I'm doing this for Jake."

* *

In all the years Jake had worked with Emma, he had always thought her to be a prim, proper sophisticated lady with conservative morals.

His broken delusion was kneeling between his legs, taking most of his throbbing erection between her ruby-red lips. He threw his head back and gasped with pleasure as she swirled her tongue around the shaft and slobbered around the sides.

It was truly as if someone had placed him in a Freudian dream. The unreality continued when Emma grabbed his ass with one hand and pushed him forward towards her. His hips were almost against her face and his cock ploughed deeper into her hungry mouth.

He had consigned himself to the role of a passive partner as she continued her oral assault on his hardened genitalia. The hand left his butt and snaked its way up the front of his torso, feeling his well-built chest. Putting her palm against it, she pushed him flat on the bed.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted you on my bed," she said, devouring his cock once more with renewed gusto.

Raising her head off his erection, she lustily gazed at the seven-inch tower of pulsing meat in front of her. She planted a kiss on the head and got on the bed. Manoeuvring around, she straddled his face, holding her dripping wet snatch inches above his mouth.

"Have you ever eaten pussy before?"

"Once when I was really drunk in college. I don't think...."

The rest of the words were drowned by her thick labia planting itself directly over his mouth. She moved her hips a bit, until her positioning was perfect.

"Consider this a refresher course."

Jake blindly licked whatever part of the fleshy vulva that he could reach with his tongue. There was not much technique to his motions. Eventually, he decided to push his tongue as deep inside her as he could.

His idea paid dividends as she began to writhe and moan atop his face. Her eyes went out of focus as his tongue reached deep inside her, rubbing against her soaked walls. He unknowingly lashed out against her G-spot, causing her to moan over and over again on the crests of pleasure.

"Where did you learn to do that?" she moaned, rolling her luscious wet flesh against his face.

"I didn't," he gasped before she planted herself back on his face.

"Boy, you sure have some great instincts. That's it. Right there."

Jake continued thrusting his tongue back and forth into her slick orifice, eliciting strong moans of pleasure from her.

Abruptly she raised herself off his face, giving him a chance to catch his breath. Clambering down his supine form, she pirouetted awkwardly until she was facing him and her dripping pussy hovered inches above his turgid erection.

She sank down on it, letting out a long shrill moan as his thickness filled her walls, stretching her in ways she had not known possible. His mushroom head went deep inside her, touching her in hitherto unexplored regions of her vagina.

"Oh Jake. This is better than I imagined," she said, beginning to move her body up and down on his member.

He was too far gone in his own pleasure to form a coherent reply. Her fleshy walls clenched around his pole, spurring him to heights of pleasure he had not fathomed. Her vaginal muscles held him firmly inside her.

A forgotten feeling started in his groin. It grew and built, feeding on itself until it reached a crescendo of pleasure. He gasped as a streak of pleasure coursed upwards from his rigid shaft, lighting up every nerve ending across his body.

"Em. I'm about to...."

Before he could finish, thick ropes of hot cum shot out of him deep inside her love canal. She gasped as she felt every burst hitting against her inner wall, coating her insides white. She held him tightly in place as the last few loads deposited themselves.

Emma fell on Jake and they held each other in a sweaty tangle of limbs. She was catching her breath while he was dizzy from the experience.

"You're on birth control right?"

"Of course not," was her simple reply, "I want to give birth to your baby."

His face turned a million different colours. Words formed in his throat and got lost in transit to his mouth as he reeled under the news. Emma looked at his face with an amused expression before she burst out laughing.

"Relax, Jake. I'm on the pill. Messing with you is too much fun."

"Oh," he said, composing himself, "Can I ask for a favour?"

"After fucking me that well, you can ask for my kidney," she said, stroking his chest. "What do you want?"

* *

Katrina held her medication in her hand. She had promised Jake she would take it. She examined the contents of her bottle closely. Then she looked up at the empty canvas.

She would have to let him down one way or the other. This way would hurt him less.

"I've always let him down. This time will be no different."

Putting the bottle down, she lay in bed. Her mind was seething with anger. She was angry at Fate. Fate had put her in such a position. Another part of her was angry at the world. Yet another part raged at life. The white hot anger finally coalesced in a raging inferno of hatred.

Hatred and anger towards herself.

She got up, a woman possessed. Her hand shook with fury as she picked up a paintbrush and dipped it in black. Her strokes were surprisingly steady. First she drew legs, shapely and long. They were bizarrely sketched in space, as if suspended by invisible strings. She put effort into drawing the part between the legs as well.

Taking a deep breath she started on the torso. It was not the ideal hourglass, but well shaped nevertheless. The breasts were rounded and the nipples stood out. The arms were askew. Now for the head.

She started with a mass of hair strewn in every direction. The slender neck gave way to a beautifully radiant face with a forlorn look.

"Not sad. The face has to show pain."

She whitened over the face and started again. This time the expression was of a pain so profound, it had numbed her senses. The sad eyes looked at the artist, accusing her of defiling her conscience with this grotesquely perverse art.

Katrina took a step back and studied the painting. It was her. Every feature on the painting was her. A self-portrait of pain and torture. But it was barely done.

The anger jangled in her bones as she picked another paintbrush and dipped it in red. Red. The colour he liked to see. The colour that got him aroused.

The colour of blood.

A deep-seated sadness simmered inside her. How had she let it come to this? She would never know. The sadness permeated from inside her to her fingertips.

"This is for you, Jake."

Her arms moved across the painting, drawing slashes of red on the body. Flecks of red around the main lines symbolized blood. He had wanted her to draw herself as he saw her. His details were explicit and his instruction succinct.

"Bleed."

One more brushstroke and she could feel the cold steel against her face. Her eyes burnt as the light glistened off the blade. Somewhere in that dazzling illuminance, she saw the silhouette of a face. Her breathing quickened as the brightness gave way to a smile and she felt the blade breaking through her skin.

Warm, thick and red. A trickle of blood came down from her cheek to her lips. Her pulse went into overdrive as his face came within inches of hers.

"Sit sanguinem." Let there be blood.

She struggled against her restrains, causing him to laugh. His laughter sent a shiver down her spine. It was unearthly, almost inhuman. There was no warmth in his eyes, as his icy stare bored into her.

He brought the knife down to her mouth. She did not part her lips at first, but he seemed willing to cut them right off her face if she tarried any longer. He placed the edge of the blade against her tongue, letting her tastebuds imbibe the metallic taste.

"You will make me a masterpiece. Showing you just like you are right now. Like I want to see you forever."

Her eyes opened wide in abject terror as he smeared the blade on her cheek, painting her in her own blood. The smile never left his face as the cold steel made first contact with her breasts. She screamed, which did little more than mildly amuse him. He was having fun...

Tears streamed down her face as memories she had carefully buried came streaming back to her. She was once again in his mansion in the Hamptons. Once more tied in his chamber of horrors. Once more bleeding out of more places than she thought possible. Once more, scared beyond death.

Drawing this for him was his final thrust into her guts. A permanent reminder of how he had claimed her soul.

She stepped back, gasping for breath. Her breathing was heavy and her arms were tired. This time, she had not wrecked the apartment, but she had lost part of herself. In front of her stood a self-portrait, cut and bleeding from every place imaginable. It screamed out at her, begging for mercy.

She had painted her soul on the canvas. Now all that was left was to sell it to the devil.

She sat on the floor, gazing at the macabre drawing for ages. The sunrise was still far away when she felt a palm on her shoulder.

"Hi Jake," she did not even turn around. The usual cheer in her voice was gone, replaced by a hollow tone.

"Hi Katrina," he said, pursing his lips, trying not to look at the painting in front of him.

"I'm sorry Jake. So sorry."

"It's okay," he said, lifting her up off the floor and wrapping her in a hug. "You didn't have to do this, though."

"Yes I did. My exhibition did not make nearly enough to cover the whole rent. I can only pay my half. I'm so sorry."

He disengaged himself from the hug and wiped away her tears with his finger.

"I talked Emma into giving me the night shift as well for the next two weeks. Given the scale of our new accounting contract we could use some extra hands and I offered mine. That should pay the other half of the rent and then some," he said calmly.

"But.. how?" Kat stammered, at a total loss for words.

"What can I say?" Jake shrugged, "You're a terrible liar. When I spoke to you over the phone, I knew."

"Oh Jake!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly. "You're a much better friend that I deserve."

"Really?" he said. "Turn around."

She turned and they both gazed at the grisly painting in front of them.

"You were willing to do THAT for me. Do you think I can ever forget your expression when you came back that night? Scarred and terrified? I have never seen you more afraid. You went back to that part of your mind and drew that monster's fantasy, just for my sake. Thank you for being my friend," he said softly. "Burn that evil portrait now."

"No," said Katrina, resolutely.

"No?"

"No. I am going to hang it up in my studio. As a reminder how far I was willing to fall before my guardian angel saved me. I need to be reminded as often as possible."

They held each other in a tight embrace. Kat clasped her hands around his back and buried her face in his shoulder.

Jake meant more to her than any lover ever could.

"Now about the sex you and Emma had...." she started.

"How about we talk over some pizza? I hear Nick's is open all night."

"Oooh yes. I'll grab my purse," she squealed like an excited little girl.

"I'll change into something that doesn't smell of sex."

"Maybe we can stop at the sex toy store on our way back. It stays open all night as well," said Kat, "Find something for you and what's-her-name to use."

"Keep dreaming."