Katie Punished
Chapter 1: Through The Wrong Door And Into Big Trouble

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mind Control, Slavery, BDSM, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Humiliation, Sadistic, Torture, First,

Desc: Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1: Through The Wrong Door And Into Big Trouble - Fun-loving attractive redhead Katie falls foul of the law while covering a Central Asian news story. A corrupt police chief keeps her nude and chained in all weathers for many long and humiliating weeks.

It was three in the morning and Katie O'Brien felt like death. Or even worse. Maybe death was better than how she felt! For a moment or two, as the horrible throbbing pain in her head grew worse and worse she considered the alternative with great care. Yes! Death was certainly better. Her mouth tasted unspeakably foul. She felt sick, thirsty and in need of a pee - in urgent need of a pee

What a bash the final night of the assignment had been! Wow! But, why have an expense account if you don't use it? She inched her way through the gloom to the bathroom door. One good pee and then back to bed. A few hours deep and therapeutic slumber and she would be fine again - almost. Good enough to get the flight home and she wouldn't be the only one with a hangover. Not by a very long way! She remembered THAT much of the previous evening! There had been quite a number of fellow journalists whooping it up with her. Many a struggling distillery and brewery owed their salvation to the heroic efforts and loyal patronage of the likes of Katie and her Press colleagues! All were prepared to sacrifice his/her liver for the sake of the good of the drink trade.

She fumbled towards the door, opened it and stumbled through - onto a fire escape. She was outside the hotel in the cold night air and overlooking the street! The massive metal door clanged to behind her. Her brain wasn'tall that clear, but still took in the fact that life had just taken a turn for the worse.

"You bloody oaf. It really is 'poor old Katie' now and with a vengeance." she cursed herself, groaning, and turned to go back, sick with the knowledge that there was no way back! Sure enough, the door had no outside handle and fitted so flush that you could scarcely see the join. Great workmanship! What now?

"Another fine mess I've got myself into!" Just how much of a mess, she was about to find out and the prospect did awful things to her already disturbed stomach!

Being locked out of the rear of the hotel with the front entrance in the next street was bad enough. Worse still was that it was the middle of the night and the night temperature in this Central Asian republic was enough to freeze the vital organs off a brass monkey. On top of all this lay the fact that Katie always slept nude. That was the worst part of her predicament, but there was another. Urgent messages coming from her bladder only reinforced Katie's rapidly forming feeling that this was shaping up to be a Bad Day!

The immediate imperative was to relieve her bladder and find a less exposed position in which to do it. Being caught like this in a rather Puritanical country with a fundamentalist Islamic regime could be expensive and time consuming to say nothing of painful - fatally painful! You could be fined for showing your ankles if you were female and a local. And although Westerners, especially western journalists, had been granted a lot of licence in the few days of the Summit, this tolerance would hardly extend to a nude woman urinating in the open air, even if she were a respected financial journalist and an honours graduate of a prestigious university.

And the Economic Summit was over. The delegates and press were preparing to go home, and some had already left. The world statesmen had all arrived back home by now. Last night's little shindig had been something of a rearguard action. What was that story she had seen before she came out here to the central Asian backwater of El Jabarah? Some Western resident of this country beaten on the soles of her feet for immorality? She supposed that a nude female squatting down in a public place to relieve herself would be deemed immoral. Even in her own country with its relatively laid back social mores - its encouragement of cultural and lifestyle diversity - a conviction for pissing naked in the street would not look good on one's CV.

She saw no way of getting back in through any of the windows - they were quite inaccessible, even to athletic young Katie.

Down the fire escape she went, knocking on each door as she descended and getting no response. Her heart sank a little with every floor. At the bottom, in the area, she found a place to relieve herself. Like being in the Brownies again on my first camp, she thought, her head still throbbing with pain and her stomach threatening cast up its contents - like Jonah from the whale's belly!

She looked down at herself in the increasing light and saw that she was even less covered than she had realised. It came back to her now, how she had painstakingly removed all the varnish from her finger and toe nails before slumping into bed. Why, oh why, had she done that! Only her lovely butterfly tattoo still adorned the dimpled side of her left buttock. Nice butterfly!

She was a sweet looking girl, even if she was still tending to see double! Red haired, five feet nine and slim, but with good arms and legs - no stick-like limbs for her - she had made sure of that. Smallish, but not tiny, breasts, a trim tummy, albeit with a sweetly feminine bulge and a luxuriant and untrimmed bush narrowing to a thin line reaching up to her navel. To her rear were friendly, generous and pneumatic buttocks which she patted absentmindedly, feeling reassured somehow by their womanly firmness. Her sweet little feet were her special pride and joy and she looked down at them with a loving, tipsy smile, before pulling herself together, trying to collect her wits and think what to do.

The sad thing was that she still felt quite terrible. No one in history had ever felt worse than she did now. All she wanted to do was crawl away and sleep (or die - just as long as she could crawl away- crawl away anywhere). The cold air was doing nothing to stop the nausea. She was tired, ill and increasingly frightened. The cold air and the decidedly uncertain prospects were together beginning to penetrate even her drink affected mind. This could be really bad! What WAS she to do?

If it had happened at home she would have attracted the attention of the first person she had met, knocked on doors and shouted for help and people would have understood and it would all have been a bit of a joke the next day! She could have dined out on it for weeks! But this was not home. She was a nude woman alone in a strange and not very friendly country, whose customs she had flouted in a big way, albeit involuntarily.

Hell, I'm not alone! There's all the other fellows! But they were mostly in other hotels and had staggered off after Katie had gone to bed! Only a couple of the guys remained in this dive and she knew they were both checking out early. What if they had already gone?

She remembered the Khazabad Majestic Hotel was about twelve doors down the street and decided that the best bet was to try and get around to the front entrance. Then she could maybe grab a master key and get up to her room unseen. Slowly she began her journey to safety, looking around to see if she had been spotted. Luckily for her it was still very quiet. It was difficult to walk in a straight line and she kept having to pause and take stock of the situation, laughing in a silly way as she did. Got to sober up - and fast. Getting damned cold too. The cold seemed to be cutting through the alcoholic fog at last.

She made it to the end of the street and round the intersection, back into the main avenue where the front entrance was. By day, this was a busy thoroughfare. Street vendors' stalls lined its entire length and hordes of people and streams of traffic made it a veritable bedlam. There was the hotel! Oh, how beautiful it looked!! Only a few doors away and nobody in sight. Oh Bliss!! The front door was open! As long as the desk clerk was a man of understanding, human warmth and compassion - or better still not at his post - all would be well! Nasty few moments, but in a minute or two she would curl up in bed and sleep off this dreadful hangover. God! how bad she still felt, although the cold air was surprisingly exhilarating in a way and she was really coming alive and tingling all over! Up the steps. She tried to cover herself as best she could with her hands. Through the door and there was the clerk! Smiling at her in a kindly, bewildered sort of way and then looking terrified.

"Sorry! I made a silly mistake and locked myself out... !"

Her arms were roughly seized from behind and she was pulled towards the door.

"You very bad woman. You cheap bloody whore! You plenty stinking drunk! You foreigners think you do what you damn well like. You get taught bloody good lesson. You learn plenty good, plenty damn soon. We teach you bloody good!"

"Tell Mr Ford Room 234!" she shouted at the desk clerk before being pulled out onto the street, thrown with incredible roughness into a prison van and driven away, bruised, frightened and suddenly utterly sober into the dawning day to face - what?

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