Taking Out the Trash in Bare Feet
By Jack
Beautiful, barefooted Catherine beats the crap out of the badguys


The pair of dirty, calloused female bare feet flexed their toes, as they
settled down for a nice rest. The owner of these feet, Catherine Johnson, had
just propped them up on her desk, which was her usual positioning when
preparing to enjoy a good book. The motel was looking nice, all the day's
cleaning was done by noon, so Catherine felt she and her feet deserved some
down time.

Catherine was widely regarded around town as one of the three women any man
would kill to spend an evening with. She was also one of three women that no
man would ever want to pick a fight with ... they wouldn't want to admit it,
but every man around knew that Catherine could beat any one of them to a pulp
with both hands tied behind her back. The two other women who brought around
such fear and arousal were Tara and Katie Johnson, Catherine's two sisters.
Those Johnson girls were different in a lot of ways, but they had three things
in common: they were jaw-droppingly sexy, they went barefoot like it was a
religion, and they could beat the living shit out anyone they wanted to.

"Stop! Stop, please!"

Catherine perked up at some sort of noise coming from Room 7. There were
guests, and they'd looked odd when they checked in ... two fairly
sinister-looking men and a skinny boy of about 13. Well, Catherine didn't like
trouble at her motel, so she got up to take care of it.

The Barefoot Motel was cheap, clean, and homey, and Catherine took great pride
in it. Her older sister, Tara, was quite the party girl, so Catherine knew she
had to be the responsible money-maker. Catherine's younger sister Katie was 17
with a 175 IQ and headed for Harvard, so somebody would have to be paying for
this, even with all her scholarships. Keeping the motel on the up-and-up was
the most important thing in the world to Catherine, and she didn't tolerate
disruptive riff-raff. Just last month, four frat guys had tried to gang-rape a
prostitute in the motel. When Catherine came to her rescue, she beat those
four big, tough guys into bawling, blubbering cowards.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!!! "What's going on in there? Is everyone OK?"

The door opened a crack, but the guest had the chain on. "What do you want?

"I heard some noises in there. Is anyone in trouble?" The guy laughed. "Fuck
off, bitch." He held a gun up. "If you know what's good for you."

That was all Catherine needed. As the door closed, she chambered her leg back,
and fired bare foot against closing door. The door flew open, and the leering
guest went flying backward.

Catherine stepped in powerfully, a bad-ass woman who demanded to be reckoned
with. Inside, she saw the lout who had tried to menace her lying on the
ground, scrabbling for his gun. Another thug stood up from the bed, putting
his gun to the head on a boy who looked about 12-years-old. "What the heel is
going on here?" Catherine demanded.

The thug on the floor was just getting to standing, his gun still aimed at
Catherine. He was a lot more wary, though, now that he had experienced the
power she held. "You poked your nose in the wrong place, bitch," he
threatened, "and now you're gonna die."

"They can't use their guns," said the kid.

Catherine's eyes widened. "What?"

The kid continued, "I'm a peace psychic. No complex weapon can be used within
500 feet of me." It sounded ridiculous, but judging by the falling faces of
his captors, he was probably telling the truth.

A crooked smile spread across Catherine's tomboyish face. "Really?"

Thug #1 threw down his gun and withdrew a sharp knife. "It don't matter,
bitch. 'Cause I'm gonna cut you, fuck you, and then kill you dead. You just
made the worst mistake of your life." And he jumped at Catherine.

Skillfully, Catherine caught his knife arm and twisted it backward painfully.
The thug cried out and dropped it. Catherine's toes reached out and her left
foot pushed the knife safely out the door. The other lout charged forward
aggressively. Unfortunately, Catherine waited and perfectly timed a straight
out kick that slammed tough calloused bare sole right into his face ... while
she was still holding the other guy in an agonizing armtwist! The lout's eyes
rolled back. Catherine waited just a moment until his head was about to clear.
When beating the shit out of badguys, Catherine knew how important it was to
maximize the fear and humiliation in her opponents. (Not that any opponent had
ever offered much opposition!)

SWOOSH!!! That same foot swirled up in another kick. Catherine's toes flexed
back so that the ball of her foot could crash into his teeth. CRACK!!! Teeth
and bllod flew as the lout spun around and landed on the bed. He started
bawling like a baby.

One guy was lying on the ground with a busted face ... the other one had his
arm being twisted into a pretzel. Catherine grinned. "Actually, you just made
the worst mistake of your life. And It's gonna cost you a whole lot of pain!"

Catherine let go of the arm and let her opponent rise to face her. WHAP!!! Her
right fist slammed into his face, breaking his nose. WHAP!!! WHAP!!! WHAP!!!
Three more punches , lots more pain. Somehow, he managed to throw a punch,
which Catherine easily ducked. BOOM! Her fist exploded into his belly. As he
sagged, she shot another fist into his face. He was in a hopeless state now.
Catherine grabbed him by the lapels and looked threateningly into his eyes.

"Please ... please ... " he begged. "I can't take it. I'll do anything, just
don't beat the shit out of me anymore." Catherine's threatening look turned to
amusement, and she began slapping him back and forth with the back of her
hand. When she stopped, the bawling was uncontrollable. So, she pushed him
back a bit, just enough to get aim, and fired a bare foot right into his solar
plexus. OOF! The thug was sent reeling back, out the door, and he flipped over
the outdoor railing and collapsed onto the ground, totally ass-whooped.

Catherine smiled. "One down, one to go!"

"No, no God, please ... " the second thug begged as Catherine hauled him to
standing. Catherine didn't listen. She slammed him up against the wall and
used fists, feet, knees, and elbows to put him into the worst pain imaginable.
Then, when she was done, she pushed him to the center of the room, leapt up
into a flying kick, and sent him right out the door and into a heap with the
first sonofabitch.

Catherine dusted her hands and wriggled her toes. "And that's that!" The boy
cheered, ran up and hugged her. Catherine hugged her newfound friend. "That
was amazing!" he marveled.

The two thugs lay in the dust, bleeding and crying all over each other.
Catherine couldn't help but smile. "There's nothing I love more than making a
bully show his true colors."

The boy was incredulous. " But they were so tough! And you whooped them like
it was nothing!"

Catherine grinned proudly. "Never mess with a Southern woman in her bare feet.
I guess we better call the cops on these guys."

The boy was suddenly filled with fear. "We can't!"

Catherine was startled. "Why not?"

"They run the police. However, if I can be at the Jones Field tomorrow at 8,
there's supposed to be a pick-up with some legit government guys."

Catherine shrugged. "This is weird. Then at least I'll finish off these two
losers, Catherine style!

The second thug started coming round as Catherine dragged him around to the
passenger side of his convertible. "Wha ... what's going on?" A fist put him
back in to dreamland.

Catherine and the boy giggled and laughed at the sight of the two formerly
bad-ass thugs lolling about all muzzy-headed in the driver and passenger seats
of the car. Catherine smiled wryly: "Now let's take care of 'em."

A spray of water from a hose sloshed those two ass-whooped thugs into
consciousness. "What ... huh?" The car was moving. Then they realized that
they were duct-taped down to the chairs; nothing they couldn't get out of with
a little struggle, but enough to keep them from moving too soon. And
Catherine, the brawny, corn-fed woman that she was, was pushing the car along
the drive ... then with one shove, the neutral geared car started rolling down
hill of its own accord.

As it rolled away, Catherine laughed. But the boy was concerned. "You didn't
kill them, did you?" Catherine shook her head with a grin. "Come on."

Catherine led the boy to the edge of the hill. The car had rolled down into a
muddy bog. The boy's face filled with absolute delight as he saw his two
former tormentors taped into the front seat of a car that was up to its
steering wheel in mud and slime. The two thugs would live, but they had just
gotten beaten silly by a girl and their car had been ruined by being shoved
into a bog with them in it. There was nothing they could do but break down and
bawl like babies. It was hilarious. Catherine and the boy laughed and laughed.
There was nothing the thugs could do ... and that made them cry even harder!

Over the next 24 hours, Catherine and her sisters' bare feet would beat the
shit out of every single member of the badguys clan, over 30 highly trained
men would find themselves helpless at the dirty soles of these barefooting
superwomen. But this asskicking right here, it was probably the best.