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Catherine - Wicked Bitch of the West	By : salarta Category: +A through F > Catherine Views: 7074 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Catherine, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
- 1-Catherine - Wicked Bitch of the West
- 1
Author's Note: I didn't think I'd have a fic up for Halloween this year. My original plan was for Shadows of the Damned, then F.E.A.R., then random ideas for Final Fantasy games, and eventually I cycled to this. I spent weeks trying to write the F.E.A.R. fic, and having a lot of trouble getting into it, then wrote this all on the 30th. I had a plan for a Catherine fic when it released, using more of the game mechanics and fitting the game better, but I never finished. Honestly, I wish I had more time to spend on different parts of this fic, and I don't feel like the title fits the fic right, but since I do want this up for Halloween, I'm settling for both. If the content isn't to your liking, you don't have to read it, otherwise enjoy it and have a happy halloween!

To love and cherish. Til death do you part.

These words, the words she'd dreamt of her entire life, echoed in her head. Katherine stood next to her groom, wetness cresting in the corner of her eye as she saw the smile on his face. He looked so rugged, yet so handsome, his black afro tamed into a fluffy mane, his beard lightly trimmed. She wiped the tear, shifting in her white wedding dress that suddenly felt much tighter and hotter in the Stray Sheep's lights.

"Vincent, I..." she murmured, silenced by the proud gleam he returned.

The excitement clouding her view of everyone outside her beau lifted, revealing the procession of guests to the great event. Men and women bore witness, decked out in fine jackets and dresses, vests and jewels. All but the barmaid, Erica, eagerly standing by in her yellow uniform, red and white stripes down the sides and an apron strapped to her waist.

Then, there was Boss, looking as classy as ever, with a distinguished grey mustache and black bow tie almost tailor-made for their big day. Though his sunglasses hid his eyes, Katherine knew where they went, staring down at a note card as he spoke into the microphone.

"And do you, Katherine, take this man to be your husband?"

She grinned, shivering as a mix of thoughts about fried her brain, her light brown hair and lacy white veil smothering her head in trapped heat.

"I d-"

"No no no," a cheerful, girly yet seductive voice broke in. "Are you kidding? It's Halloween!"

Wide-eyed, Katherine glanced over her shoulder at the strange minx behind them.

The drill-haired blonde stood there in a slip of a dress, an air of naughty nurse mingling with the look thanks to the nurse's cap on the crown of her head. The girl had the audacity to show up in high heels and a pair of frilly stockings scandalously teasing at something more beyond her skirt. As if to make things worse, above the red bow tie around the girl's stomach, she sported her lacy white bra for all to see outside her dress straps and peeking over its cups, tantalizing with a perfect pair of breasts rising and falling softly with each breath. The pair bounced as the blonde skipped over and hugged Vincent's arm.

"What do you think you're doing?! This is my wedding!" Katherine said, stunned.

"What am I doing? I'm saving this hot hunk from an old whore!" The blonde giggled, closing her eyes to showcase her baby blue eyeshadow as she smiled.

"Old whore?! Now see here, I'm-"

"You're not dressed for the occasion! Don't you know your kind is required to reveal themselves on Halloween?"

"My.. my kind?! MY KIND?! Who do you think you-" It came faster than she could blink. Champagne splashed across her face, supplied by the wine glass in the blonde's hand.

Katherine spluttered, the fragrant drink flowing to her neck, dipping into her cleavage. Wiping her eyes, she shouted, "ENOUGH! This is my special day, and you're-"

As gasps erupted from their guests, Katherine paused. She turned to them, a mix of confusion and dread crossing their expressions as they gazed upon her soaking dress. She glanced down, her view catching only the edges of her dress as the outlines of her nipples perked through its drenched white cloth. Blushing, she nervously crossed her arms over her chest. "Sorry about that. I thought they designed wedding dresses to prevent this kind of thing from happening."

"She's a witch!" Toby said.

"What?!"

Rubbing a hand over her face, Katherine stumbled over her long skirt as the blonde grabbed her hand and yanked her aside.

"Let go of me!" Katherine yelled, smacking the blonde's arm. It counted for naught, not even a shade of red rising on the girl's skin. "Who ARE you?!"

"The name's Catherine, bitch, and if you're going to be at MY wedding, you're going to show off what a skanky witch you are."

For all her struggles, the bathroom's wooden door slammed shut as Katherine's feet slipped into the cramped little space. Slamming forward against the sink, she raised her head, her furious snarl forming into a muted, jaw dropping shock as she saw her reflection in the mirror.

All the way from her temples to her chin, her skin exposed new color where wine once flowed. The lines pursued into her slight cleavage, her flesh turned a sickly, toxic green taint. She gasped as Catherine tore the dress straight off her, the percussive rip announcing the reveal of her nipples, set in a darker shade of the same color. Streaks of her hidden pigment showed under her arms as Catherine lifted them to drag her into the next small cove.

"Alright you old whore, when's the last time you had your head dunked in a toilet? Hmm?" Catherine asked.

"Get off me you crazed-" A rush of air met with a rush of water, as her whole head plunged into the bowl. Bubbles escaped her nostrils, her shouts muffled under the surface as she pushed back against Catherine's unbudging hand.

Catherine leaned into her victim's ear. "What kind of woman gets married in a bar, anyway? Only the loosest, sleaziest types would do it in a place men and women go to get drunk and talk about their last fucks."

The instant the blonde's hand lifted, Katherine threw herself from the bowl. Water smacked against the walls, her long hair clinging to her shoulders. She blinked as she glanced, shocked, at the soaked black strands where her hair dipped below the surface. Her heart thumped wild as the night grew stranger, a haze of dream turned nightmare.

As her breathing recovered from quick, shallow sucks to long deep drags, new cloth dropped over her head. Sitting against the wall, she pulled it into her lap and glared at the blonde grinning in the toilet's doorway.

"Hurry up and get dressed, witch. I want you to be there to celebrate the happiest day of my life!"

The door slammed. The vixen's cackle broke past its frail wood, disappearing with Catherine's clicking high-heeled steps. Left alone, she looked to her new garments and grimaced.

"I'm expected to wear this?"

She held the g-string higher, dangling it in her eyes as she weighed her options. Her nude tits sagged softly on her chest, settling into gentle teardrops corrupted by their sinful swamp moss hue. An intoxicating scent of sage fumed invisibly from her dark cold-hardened nipples, building stronger as an odd arousal built in her chest.

Lifting her feet, she slipped the g-string up her legs, shimmying them over her... black-haired bush? She gazed at the patch, a rebound from the clean-shaven plains she left that morning. The tuft pressed against her pussy as she mashed the undergarment over her loins. The next item, a full-torso corset, fit over her arms with ease. She tied the string behind her neck, tightened the ones above her stomach, and adjusted the open cups forcing her boobs to sit higher and out for display.

Pushing herself upright, she stood on her white dress heels. The leather back flaps of her corset smacked her thick ass, the flaps' wide gap allowing a breeze to rush over the cleft. Snatching up the last of her decor, she placed the crooked witch hat atop her head, clutched a broom in her hand, set her glasses on the bridge of her nose and sighed.

"Why am I doing this?" she asked herself. With a click-clack of heel to wood, Katherine walked over, shoved the door open, and emerged.

Everyone stared. She approached, rounding the bar top. Stopping beside the new couple, she glowered at the blonde, shot a betrayed glance at Vincent, then sneered at the crowd simply watching the spectacle behind a few thin, gold-railed half-walls.

"How could you let her do this to me?" Katherine cried. "This is my wedding day! She ruined my big day, dragged me into the bathroom and humiliated me, and you're acting like... like..."

Words faltered. At least, for a few seconds. As they trembled in Katherine's throat for a few seconds, Erica found her own. "Hey guys, check it out. The Wicked Bitch of the West is here!"

The raucous, wild laughter of human monsters brought a shamed blush to the ex-bride's cheeks. She wanted to storm out of the bar with Vincent in tow. She still could. Why didn't she? Why...

"Do you, Catherine, take this man to be your husband?" Boss asked.

"NO!" Katherine shrieked. She imagined grabbing a knife from the cake table, pouncing the blonde and stabbing clean into the girl's chest. Instead, she turned to face Boss, her pushed-out boobs jiggling and swaying as she panted for air. Her hips swung forward as one of her corset flaps snapped her ass cheek like a rubber band, reddening the as-yet untainted flesh.

"I do," Catherine giggled.

"And do you, Vincent Brooks, take this woman to be your wife?" Boss added.

"I... do," she answered.

"Then," Boss smiled, rubbing his mustache, "it is my distinct pleasure to announce Vincent Brooks and Catherine as husband and wife. Catherine, you may kiss the groom."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Katherine wailed. She was powerless, standing at attention to the side like some clown for everyone to laugh at while this blonde SLUT stole her man away from her. Her head turned against her will, her neck tensing and eyes prying themselves wide to take in the horror of her hijacked wedding.

Catherine, a seductive minx in a simple slip dress, leaned forward toward the disgraced ex-bride. Vincent arched backward to meet the girl's stance, as Catherine's lips wrestled and danced along Vincent's in a hot, deep kiss. Her breasts dangled off her chest, her lacy bra catching the busty bust and adding enough spread to tease her wide-parted cleavage. All the while, the blonde's baby blue eyes stared mocking the woman she replaced, her like-colored eyeshadow showing every time she blinked.

Katherine wanted to curl up, to cry, to douse the fires of rage and shame she felt inside with a river of tears. They wouldn't come. Her body wouldn't budge. She observed the harlot sensuously embrace the love of her life, then callously drop him when Vincent passed out. Glancing down at him, Katherine sniffled over his self-satisfied grin.

Snatching the microphone from Boss, Catherine waved her hand high as she announced, "Alright everyone, party time! You know what they say, ladies first, and since Erica's the only lady around here with a dick, she gets to be the first to blast this wicked old whore with a faceful of cum."

Katherine turned... "What?! What's going on here? This makes no sense, I don't..." ... and saw her former wedding guests. The stylish, classy jackets, dress pants, silken dresses and coiffed fine hair she saw not minutes ago were gone, exchanged for all manner of festive Halloween costumes. Zombies, vampires, werewolves, they all stood amid jack-o-lanterns, dimmed lights and fog. Cobwebs sprawled across the walls. Spiders crawled along the tables. Bats hung from above, spreading their wings in short, gentle flaps.

A line formed around the bar, turning around the booths, backing up all the way to the door. As the friendly barmaid strutted closer, Katherine's eyes bulged, shocked by the strange attire decked out on her softly feminine build.

Swirls of ketchup and mustard ran around Erica's small tits, the pink aura of her nips sneaking out the corners of cut pickles turned pasties. Lettuce draped her hot red hair, tomato slices dripping, hidden and woven into the short, wild strands.

As hot french fry scented breath puffed from Erica's lips into her face, Katherine asked, "What... what are you?"

"I'm a happy meal!" Erica gleefully said with a wink. "And lucky you, today you get to have my special sauce!"

Erica's hip-thrust drew Katherine's eyes lower, to the dancing cock rising ever higher from the barmaid's crotch. The bulb poked out one end of a hot dog bun, the top of its length streamed with red and yellow, white onions mixed among the mess. Backing up, two dainty hands pressed against her shoulders, forcing her down before Erica's pulsing, throbbing manmeat. Trapped on her knees, her guard dropped for a scant second to glance up at the saucy, smiling shemale.

In that gap, her mouth slacked, gaping open wide enough for Erica to force her way in.

"Eat up, bitch!" Erica proudly ordered, hands on her hips.

The taste, the smell, the feel of what pumped inside her mouth. Katherine's eyes drifted to its girth, the many accessories to its hot dog decor melting away like butter in her mouth. Through the curved lenses of her rectangle, black-rimmed glasses, Katherine watched the Erica's manhood retreat, the tip rubbing against her pearly front teeth. The barmaid's heavy, horny groan should have made her nose crinkle in disgust.

... Should have.

Heat and wetness flooded Katherine's twitching g-stringed pussy. Her lipstick smeared around Erica's dick, painting red over its thin, vein-popped flesh. Her long, cyan-polished fingernails scratched the underside of the barmaid's balls as Katherine's hand gripped and fondled the swelled spheres in their sack. She closed her eyes and hummed, sniffing the musky cologne of Erica's fast food delights.

Wait... this isn't right! Her eyes sprang open, to see the pumping, primed length slam forth to the back of her throat. She coughed around it, snorting into Erica's french fry tangled bush. This is a nightmare. A horrible, disgusting horror my mind dreamt up. All I have to do is wake up. Wake up, Katherine, wake... oh no.

It was coming. She could sense it. The scent shifted, more powerful, more masculine, smothering her nose with more than a hint of Erica's full endowment. She could feel the organ quake in her mouth, the surge of jelled pressure rising to the fore for release. She wanted to pull back, to let go, to dodge the torrent to come.

"Aaaaaaaaah..." Erica gave a relaxed sigh, clutching the black strands of the witch's hair.

Too late. The hot, gooey seed splattered inside her mouth. It ran like mud down her throat, the salty, gritty taste coaxing her tongue to dance and lick like a perverse lover seeking more play from its mate. It pursued, frustrated by her lower jaw, the limits of its leash.

Her green, witchy face earned the rest. With each successive spurt, it went fainter, weaker, Erica's splooge falling shorter and shorter as her manhood shrank. A wad of cum burst against Katherine's forehead. The explosion of wet warmth set her coughing, the spunk in her throat jetting through her sinuses and sliming out her nostrils. Drip, drip, the raindrop shaped whiteness broke away, adding to the murky river that curved over her chin and ran between her pushed-up green tits.

Katherine gawked up at the barmaid, her sight blurred as her glasses sat crooked on the bridge of her nose. A giggle rose in her ear. A hand rubbed her shoulder. Fingers swept up the temple arms of her glasses, adjusting them back into perfect alignment. She peered through the spunked lenses, what should have been an opaque wall of cum over curved glass, and gasped at the view.

"I can see their dicks!" Down the line of men, she saw all sizes, from the puny and frail, to the big and thick, as if they jutted out in the open. Faced with such a sight, she brought her hands to her chest, squeezed her splooged tits and moaned. "Oooooohhhh...."

"That's the spirit, you wicked old whore!" Catherine happily, chirpily insulted. "Give into your skanky little desires. Stay away from my Vincent and suck off as many men as you can, or better yet take it up the ass. A tighty like you needs some serious loosening."

"I do?" Katherine asked.

"Damn right you do," Erica answered. "Just don't try to fuck anyone with horrible pussy."

"I can't have straight sex? Why not?" Katherine wondered.

"Geez, don't you know anything?" Leaning in, Catherine eyed the waiting crowd, whispering in the witch's ear. "You know where trick or treat came from, right? If it's Halloween and you think some of the girls might be witches, you bring them together and fuck them all! If the girl is normal, her pussy is a treat, but if she's a witch, well..."

A rumble. In the pit of her stomach. Blushing, Katherine glanced down and rubbed a hand over her tainted midriff as she laid back against the bar. She blinked, as a notion bubbled to the surface of her thoughts. "I'm... still... pregnant. I'm still pregnant! Vincent, wake up, I'm still carrying our baby."

Her excitement turned to confusion, as the drill-haired blonde bent over laughing.

"Ah ha ha, you think you're pregnant with Vincent's child? What made you think you could have a normal baby? You're a witch you dumb skank. Ants are the messengers of witches, and yours have a big message for anyone that comes near that nasty ice cave."

She couldn't believe it. No, she didn't want to. Her fingers slid the g-string aside, offering freedom to her oppressed muff. She watched, as her belly rose and rounded, as a spotlight shone above her, as the strings of her corset snapped apart. Her navel popped out, new weight gaining on her healthy frame. Pinned to the floor, she gasped, shocked, as she felt an army of tiny things scurry inside her womb.

"NO!" Katherine shrieked.

"Yes," Catherine said, bending down beside her former rival for Vincent's love with a cruel, taunting grin. "Katherine McBride. Wicked Bitch of the West. Your. Womb. Is."

---------------------------

"GAH! My womb is not cursed! It's not..."

Katherine calmed. The tight, knotted tension in her shoulders eased. She released her pink, heart-shaped pillow, looked around and sighed relief.

Her room, with all the familiar comforts. Pictures of her dates with Vincent on the walls, an alarm clock lighting its numbers in digital green, her closet doors splayed open to see the sensible designer clothes she wore each day. Cars honked and sputtered outside her window, as rays of sunlight shone in her eyes.

"Oooh, what a nightmare," she said, rubbing her pounding, aching temples. She sat up, glass bottles clinking against each other to the floor as she smacked her lips. "That was awful. I'm never drinking that much ever again. If I do, I'll... !!"

She cupped her mouth with an open palm. Scratching her freshly green breasts, she checked her nails to find nothing, not one trace of powder or green along their cyan edges. Further down, she saw her belly, slightly bloated, a large jack-o'-lantern grinning wide and mocking. She poked its black nose, her navel, gasping as she recognized the embarrassing body art for what it was.

"No. Oh, please no. Please tell me I didn't get tattoos. They'd be covered in bandages, right? If I'm pregnant, I don't want to spend the next nine months of my life with these awful tattoos on my-"

She froze. She felt a stir, a tickle. The longer she sat there, staring at the white sheet tenting across her crotch, the stronger she felt a busy tingle over her pussy. Trembling, she gulped and reached between her legs.
- 1
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Catherine - Wicked Bitch of the West