Catch a Falling Star	Back to S	Back to main page

Collected by Djian
update jan 30 - 2009

M+/f, D/s, reluc, exhib, BDsm, humil, slavery

Catch a Falling Star
by unknown






One



Money wasn't everything. But it beat just about everything else. Except power, of course. Fortunately, money and power often went together. If you had one, you could use it to get the other. That was most fortunate, because Bernard Deveraux loved his power even more than his money, but he would have been most unhappy if he'd had to be without the little luxuries which made life so comfortable.

He liked his enormous mansion in Beverly Hills, the long, gleaming, chauffeur driven limo, fine wine, eating at the finest restaurants, and the servants who took care of the little things for him.

But he loved the power he held over others, the power to make or break careers and lives. He was president of America's biggest television network, ABS, and legions of Hollywood's elite fawned over him wherever he went. The most beautiful women in the country, in the world; models and actresses, threw themselves at him, hoping to gain his favour.

Sometimes they did, but not much of it. He was a jaded man. He'd ridden half the A-list actresses in Hollywood, and far too many hopeful starlets and would-be starlets to even keep track of.

There was an old saying which said that one did not value what one got too easily, and Bernie Deveraux knew it to be true. Most men would stutter and fumble and grovel around the women he took so casually and cast aside so easily, in the forlorn hope of getting even so much as a kiss from them. But he'd had so many of them, so many perfect blondes, gorgeous brunettes, fiery redheads, Black girls, Asian girls, Hispanic girls, English girls, French girls, German and Swedish and Japanese girls. Now they were just so much flesh on the hoof to him.

It wasn't that he no longer took pleasure in sex, for he was a highly sexed man who enjoyed getting his hands on a soft, toned female body. But simple, basic sex had come to bore him now.

Power, however, never bored him. And it was never better than when he could use it in combination with sex. His excitement in forcing others to bow before him, particularly forcing women to do his bidding, had reignited his interest in sex, but twisted it into a new and sadistic direction.

The actress waiting outside to see him was a perfect example.

She was a beautiful young actress of twenty six. She was no powerless waitress hoping for a break. She'd had them in spades. She'd been in a hit TV show when she was twelve. It had lasted seven years, and during that time she'd become a household name. She'd then gone on to star in a second hit TV show, which was still running - though without her in it.

For this young actress was a headstrong, high strung, arrogant young bitch. For years the tabloids had been filled with stories of her screaming matches at parties, of her fist fights with other women at bars, her drunk driving arrests, and her nasty divorce with her husband after she'd been caught cheating on him.

Worse yet, she'd been bounced from both her shows because she'd been so hard to handle. In an industry far more accepting of spoiled brats than any other she'd gone overboard with her seemingly endless fights and arguments with her co-stars, producers and directors.

And now she wanted him to give her a starring role in a new television show the network was putting together. It would be a private eye drama high on the T&A scale, and she wanted it so badly, his sources told him, she would do just about anything to get it.

The odd thing was she was perfect for the role. The TV show was taken from a series of books, and she physically matched the description of the lead character so closely it was almost scary. Her temperament would help, too, for the character was supposed to have a mean streak, and be something of a slutty little flirt.

But no one was going to hire her to star in anything. She was too hard to work with, and no director or producer in his right mind wanted to put millions into a show with a temperamental star who could screw it all up.

Bernie didn't have anything against her himself. In a way, he even admired her style. He was an arrogant bastard, himself, as anyone who knew him would attest, who wanted what he wanted, and screw what anyone else thought. She was a fiery little spitfire, to his way of thinking, and he thought she'd do rather well in the role.

All she needed was - discipline. And Bernie was going to provide that discipline, going to ensure that if she got the role she would do as she was told, make no threats, and do nothing to embarrass the show. Or else he would crush her.

He looked around the enormous office and smiled faintly. It was an office which would overawe almost anyone. The windows behind his desk were twenty feet high and fifteen feet wide, overlooking the city. Long blue velvet curtains framed the windows, of the same colour as the forty thousand dollar Persian rug on which his enormous white marble desk sat.

At the far end of the room were leather sofas and chairs, and a bar in gleaming walnut and oak. The walls were mahogany panels on which hung framed pictures of him with a wide assortment of political leaders and Hollywood stars.

He reached negligently for the phone and lifted it from its cradle. "Send the little slut in," he said.

The door was opened by his secretary; a tall, lithe, gorgeous blonde built to make men drool, and the young actress was ushered in. Bernie saw at once she had dressed to seduce. That was no surprise, for she was a ruthless little bitch, and a highly sexed one. Trading her body for a part like this would be nothing for her to anguish over.

Shawn Donnelly wore a tight white sheath dress which showed off her assets very well indeed. The hem was so high that he had no doubt the tight little skirt would slip up to bare her pussy the instant she sat down. The thin, spaghetti straps over her shoulders strained to hold up the front, which squeezed tightly against her firm, high breasts, showing a goodly amount of cleavage. He could easily see the outlines of her nipples through the thin material.

She was short, at five foot two, but built like the proverbial brick shit house. Her long, silky brown hair framed a gorgeous face, with a small, snub nose, bright brown eyes, and a small, but sensuous mouth. She gave him a flirty look as she gracefully strolled across the rug to stop before his desk, showing off the goods.

He looked past her and nodded to his secretary, who closed the door behind her.

Bernie did not get up and come around the desk to greet her, to allow her to hug him like an old friend and press those lovely breasts against his chest. He sat behind his desk looking almost bored. He wanted to unnerve her, to get under her skin.

"Your agent has been nagging me for weeks," he said irritably. "I thought I made it clear to him repeatedly why I wasn't going to hire you. But he's annoyingly persistent."

"That's why I pay him," she said in a throaty purr.

"And what do you think to tell me he hasn't?"

She gave a little shrug and smiled. "I thought I could persuade you that you were wrong about me."

He smiled thinly. "You thought if you came in dressed like that you'd make it clear I could fuck your little brains out if I gave you the role."

She frowned and her mouth opened in indignation.

"Spare me," he said. "I knew exactly what you are and what you're willing to do. I knew I could fuck you any time I wanted. A pretty face and body are not all that much coin to me these days. I've had an awful lot of women, many of them a lot better looking than you."

The mock indignation had faded, giving way to genuine anger now. He was not surprised. She had a legendary temper, and little control over it. She scowled at him now, her eyes narrowing into slits. "I'm perfect for this role!" she snapped.

"Yes, you are!" he snapped back.

She seemed surprised, taken aback.

"You think I don't know that!? Do I look stupid over here? Do I have a reputation for not noticing things?"

"Well then - ."

"You're a four star pain in the ass bitch to work with, Shawn. And that's all there is to it."

"People just say that because I won't roll over and let myself be used!" she said hotly.

"Oh bullshit. You'll let yourself be used, and happily, to get your way. And don't give me that wounded feminist bullshit. You'd be a four star pain in the ass if you were a man, too."

She leaned forward, hands on the desk and spread apart, glaring at him.

"You would be perfect, but you'd cause far too many problems. You'd bitch and complain and get into fights with your co-stars - ."

"I wouldn't!"

"You'd act the prima-donna and demand rewrites, refusing to say the lines you'd been given - ."

"I wouldn't!"

"You did before! Twice!"

"That's unfair! They were treating me like shit!"

"You're an arrogant bitch who thinks the world revolves around you. No one in their right mind would center a TV show around you as the star. You'd be too hard to replace, and that would give you too much power to cause trouble."

"Look," she said forcefully, "I know I have a reputation, but I promise I won't act up. I love this character! I used to read the series years ago! I know exactly how she should be played!"

"And if the way you think she should be played goes against what the producer and director think?"

She pursed her lips and glared at him.

"Forget it," he said, sitting back in his expensive executive chair. "The only way I'd take you on is if I had a rock solid guarantee you could be controlled."

"I'll sign any contract you want!"

He made a rude noise. "A contract dispute would take years to resolve in court, and be a waste of time and money. Oh no, my sweet, you'll have to do much better than that."

"What then?" she demanded, straightening and folding her arms beneath her ample breasts.

He smiled thinly. "I think that you need a little course in discipline," he said. "A little behavioral modification treatment."

She frowned warily. "You want me to go to some kind of shrink?"

He shook his head. "Oh no, not at all. I think I can teach you a little discipline myself, and enjoy doing it, too."

Now a slow smile spread over her sensuous mouth and she cocked her head slightly to the side. "That sounds - interesting," she said, her voice going purry again.

"How - obedient - can you get, Shawn?" he asked softly.

She let her face take on an innocent, wide-eyed expression. "What would you like me to do - sir?" she asked in a little girl voice.

"Take off the dress," he ordered.

She gave him an unconvincing look of shock, then looked bashful.

"Do I have to?" she asked shyly.

"Oh please," he said. "You've been in R-rated movies. I've seen your tits. Get that dress off."

She seemed a little irritated at his tone, but hid it quickly, and then eased the straps over her bare shoulders, and slowly, sensually, pushed them down, baring her lovely, full breasts, then her trim, slim belly. Beneath, she wore a powder blue thong with thin straps curving up over her hips.

Deveraux stood up and walked over to her. She was a short woman, and he was not a short man. The top of her head was still below the base of his neck, and she had to raise her chin to look up at him as he gazed down at her breasts.

He reached out for them, cupping them, squeezing them lightly as they filled his hands. His thumbs flicked across the already stiff pink nipples and she winced.

Deveraux squeezed his fingers in tighter. Then he abandoned them, and roughly spun her around. She gasped, stumbling a step, and he slapped her bottom so that she yelped and jumped.

"Oww. Fuck!" she protested, turning indignantly.

"This is not going to be a case of fucking the director or producer and then being given the show, Shawn," he snapped. "If you really want this show you're going to have to work long and hard at it."

"What do you mean?" she asked, wary now.

"Put your hands behind your head and stand straight, stick your tits out. Now!"

She glared, but then reluctantly obeyed, her face starting to flush a little. This was not the seduction job she had planned.

"You have no discipline," he said. "I'm going to make you do things you don't want to do, repeatedly, and the only way you can convince me you won't be a pain in the ass will be to obey me, completely, no matter what. Understand?"

"Yes," she said, determination filling her face.

He ran his hand casually over her breasts and belly, then spun her again and gripped the back of her neck, bending her forcefully over the front of his desk. He gripped the thin blue strap of the thong and ripped it up and back. Again she yelped as the material jammed up hard into her pussy before tearing away.

He slapped her bottom sharply, and she cursed and jerked upright, scowling at him as he smirked.

"I doubt you can manage it, Donnelly, I doubt it very much. You have too much pride, too much arrogance to be pushed around. Spread your legs more," he barked.

She took a deep breath, then shifted her legs apart on the rug.

"Back up."

Again she obeyed.

"Now turn around. Show me that tight little ass."

She ground her teeth together but obeyed, turning.

"Bend over, you slut. Let me see your best side."

She hesitated, but obeyed again, and he grinned at her lovely ass and the soft little furry mound beneath.

"Reach between your legs and spread your cunt open. I want to see pink."

Her body seemed to twitch at the crude words he was deliberately using. He couldn't see her face, though he'd be able to see it later, of course. The room was wired for video and sound, and the men operating the video cameras knew exactly what he wanted to see. He saw her reach back between her shapely thighs and press her fingers against her sex lips, then slowly draw them open.

"What a fucking whore," he said with a laugh

She straightened and whirled to confront him, her face furious.

"I knew it!" he said.

"You don't have to insult me like that!"

"Of course I do, you stupid twat. Have you already forgotten the whole point of this? It's to teach you discipline, to teach you to control your temper, to break some of that arrogance out of you."

He sat back on the edge of the desk. "You're a sexually experienced young woman, Shawn," he said. "Don't tell me you've never heard of dominance and submission games."

She tossed her head and shrugged. Of course she had.

"Well this one is for real. I'm the dominant, and you're going to have to discover your submissive side, assuming you have one. Because only when I'm convinced you'll be a good little girl will I call up Jerome and Michael and ruin their lives by forcing them to hire you to star in the new show."

"Fine," she said, a little sullenly.

He got up and circled his desk, then sat down. "And who knows, maybe you'll even like it."

"I doubt that," she said.

"No? You must know by now that nobody will hire you for a major role. You're poison. That's why you were so desperate to get this part. Oh yeah, it's right for you, but what you really think is it's a chance to redeem yourself, to make yourself a star again, your last chance, maybe. Because you're so perfect maybe, just maybe, you can convince us to hire you. Well, you can't. Not unless you pass my little - discipline course."

"What do you want me to do next?" she challenged.

"Get on your knees, slut."

Again she jerked at the word, and a furious glare crossed her face before being quickly erased. But then she obeyed.

"Crawl to me, slut. On all fours, like a little bitch."

Her face was flushed, but she obeyed, crawling along on the rug, crawling around the desk, and then coming around to his side as he pushed the chair back and smirked down at her. She had a seductive look on her face again, and he reminded himself she was no sexual innocent. She had no bout played nasty sex games before.

He opened a desk drawer and drew out a studded, black leather collar, tossing it to her.

"Put it on, slut."

She looked at it, and inhaled sharply, but then her eyes took on a bit of heat which he doubted was an act, and she drew the collar up around her slender throat.

"I'm going to hurt you, Shawn," he said. "You do know that, don't you?"

She hesitated, looking at him uncertainly.

"I'm going to punish you, badly."

"H-how badly?" she asked warily.

"Not badly enough to make any marks on that lovely body of yours. After all, a lot of it will be on display in the show. Of course, the show doesn't start shooting for a couple of months. So are you willing to take a few bruises and welts for the role of your life, Shawn?"

Her eyes flared and she locked the collar around her throat. "Try me!" she challenged.

He reached into the drawer and drew out a pair of leather bondage restraints, tossing them to her.

"Around your wrists," he said.

She was angry, but determined. She gave him a furious look, then tossed her head and fit the first of the studded restraints around her left wrist. She examined it, noted that the restraint, like the collar, snapped together and locked, and did just that, forcing the tongue into the metal lock so the restraint was tight. She did the same with the second restraint, then caught the next two he tossed. She didn't ask what they were for, but sat back on her bottom and fit them around her ankles.

She was angry, but more than that, he thought. She was getting aroused. She was no virgin or chaste suburbanite, he reminded himself. She'd been in Hollywood since she was ten. It would take a lot to shock her. She might not be as jaded as he was, but she'd certainly had her share of lovers, and no doubt bondage was no stranger to her. He thought her more likely to be on the dominant than the submissive, side, but one never knew.

Her nipples were very hard, the areolas puffed up around them, and Bernie thought he could smell her arousal in the warm office air. She knelt before him again, licking her lips a bit, ready for whatever he demanded.

He took the leash from the drawer and tossed it to her.

"Lock it to your collar, slut, then hand it to me."

She inhaled sharply, licked her lips as she looked at the leash. No doubt she had played at bondage before, but this was something a lot more real than bedroom games with trusted lovers. Her hand seemed to tremble a bit as she reached up to the ring at the front of the collar, but then they steadied and she clipped the leash to the ring, reaching forward to hand it to him.

He took it, and then yanked suddenly, harshly, so that she yelped as she was pulled off balance and fell against the chair. He reached down and filled his fist with her hair, twisting her head to one side, and she cried out again, reaching for his wrist.

"Put your hands down!" he snapped.

She dropped her hands, gasping, her eyes rolling up at him.

"I'm going to fuck your brains out, you little slut, and I'm going to shame you and give you to other people. Do you understand that?"

Her eyes widened.

She jerked her head, just a little, for it was all the movement he had allowed her. He released his grip, then shoved her back hard. Again she lost balance and fell sprawling onto her back, legs spread. He stood up, and she sat up, getting back to her knees. He jerked on the leash.

"On all fours, slut," he barked.

She twisted and rose on all fours, and he pulled on the leash. "Heel," he snapped, pulling her with him.

He led her across the long room, crawling along at his heel, her breasts swaying and wobbling beneath her. At the other end, a touch on a discrete button turned the panel out and revealed an array of bondage and sex gear. He looked down at her, then pulled a long, fat black dildo out and dropped it on the floor.

"Shove that up your cunt," he ordered.

She looked up at him, then at the dildo, and appeared to hesitate again, but only for a moment. A shaky hand took up the dildo and she started to sit back.

"Stay on all fours, you fucking whore. Reach back and shove it up your cunt. But turn around first. I want to watch."

She shuffled around, showing him her ass, and he watched her hand reach back between her thighs and rub the head of the fat dildo along her moist slit. He was not surprised to see the top of the black latex cock glisten with her juices. He watched her sink it slowly into herself, watched her tight sex lips spreading in and back and apart as the dildo pushed into her pussy.

She grunted a little at her awkward position, and he was sure her face was getting red as she slowly forced the fat dildo into her body. A few inches went in, then a few more.

"Deeper, slut. All the way," he ordered.

He reached out and put his foot against the bottom of the dildo, then pushed. She let out a startled cry, her head jerking up and back, as the dildo pushed a half dozen more inches deep into her belly.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"That's right, bitch. Fuck yourself with it."

"It's fucking thick! Give me a minute at least!" she protested.

He picked out a thin, springy quirt from the hidden cabinet and slashed it down across her shapely bottom. Again she yelped, and twisted half around, gasping and staring at him with wide eyes.

"Don't talk back," he said in a slow growl. "You will do as you are told and not complain. Or haven't you grasped the entire purpose of this!? Now turn around, assume the position, and shove that fucking dildo up your dirty little whore cunt!"

Her face was red, all right, with a mixture of fury and embarrassment. But he was an expert in reading people, and he saw heat there, too, excitement. She obeyed him, bending over, legs spread, and reached back between her thighs, grasping the dildo and pumping it slowly in and out, twisting it, driving it deeper and deeper until no more than an inch or so remained.

He tossed another to the rug.

"Guess where that goes, whore?"

She picked it up, panting. "D-do you have some lubricant at least?" she asked.

"Use your saliva. Suck on it, then shove it up your asshole."

He was being deliberately crude, wanting to taunt her. She was no dummy, and she knew it, of course. Still, it had an effect, a dual effect, perhaps. It made her indignant, angry, and yet it seemed to excite her, as well.

Her eyes were angry flints as she looked at him, but then she took the dildo up and licked at it, putting the head into her mouth. Not easily, though, for it was thick, and she had a small mouth. Her lips had to strain to take it in, and she made little gurgling noises as she sucked and licked

But then she drew it out, dripping saliva, and pushed it quickly back between her legs, rubbing the nose against her rosebud anus, twisting it and pushing on it, gasping as she slowly forced it in.

"You've done bondage before," he said.

"Y-Yes," she panted, not looking at him.

"Tell me about it. What kind? With who?"

"I've done it a few times," she said. "A lot of times. When I was going with Todd Warren he liked to tie me up."

"With what? How?"

"Just... stuff, ties, silk ties, ropes."

"How?"

"On the bed, to the posts," she said, working the dildo deeper.

"And?"

"With my hands behind my back when I sucked him."

"And?"

"M-mostly that was it," she said breathlessly.

"What else?"

"Mike Ferguson. He tied me up and spanked me."

"Spanked that pretty little ass? For being a bad girl?"

"I-I guess," she groaned.

"Go on."

"Peter Montana liked to tie me up in bed, so did John Byron, except he used restraints, like these."

"Just tied you to the bedposts and fucked you?"

"Yeah," she panted.

"Did any of them play dominance games on you?"

"I - I - no, not - not like you," she gasped, forcing the dildo almost all the way into her back hole.

"Spanking was the only pain given to you?"

"Yes. And pinching my nipples,"

"Enough. Let's walk... let's crawl," he said, tugging on her leash.

He led her, crawling, back across the floor, snapping the long quirt across her rump several times to make her yelp and flinch. She didn't protest, though, just kept crawling, and he knew she was getting into it. Well, she'd never favored older lovers, so she probably wasn't as familiar with the world's kinky side as she thought. Young men lacked patience, he thought, and imagination.

He put a foot on her bottom and shoved, and she sprawled forward onto her belly. She started to push herself up but he put a foot down firmly on her back between her shoulder blades, forcing her back to the floor.

"Put your hands behind your back, slut," he ordered.

Gasping, she obeyed, and he crouched, locking her wrist restraints together. Then he rose, gripping her hair, pulling harshly so that she cried out, half lifting her up and back onto her knees. Her face was red, and she was gasping, but once again, there was no protest as he held her there.

He released her hair and unzipped, drawing out his cock. He was proud of it, and proud of the way she licked her lips excitedly at the sight. It was fat and long, and the little whore wanted something fat and long just then.

He gripped her hair again, twisting it, forcing her face forward, thrusting his cock into her mouth.

"Suck cock," he said in a voice dripping contempt.

He punched his cock in deep, making her gag, and yanked roughly on her hair when she tried to pull back.

"What? You don't know how to swallow a cock? A cheap little Hollywood whore like you? You're going to learn, slut."

He jabbed his cockhead against the inside of her left cheek, then her right, his fist full of her soft, silky hair as she twisted her head from side to side. Her eyes rolled upwards at him in alarm and pain, but she was still sucking, still licking, trying to please.

"I'm going to show you what deep throating means, Donnelly, you fucking skank," he sneered.

He pumped his cock in and out, bringing both hands to bear on her head now, filling his fists with her soft hair on both sides of her head as he jerked her forward to meet his thrusts. She gurgled and gagged and choked several times as he pushed himself deep, then with a rough jerk of his fists, he forced her forward, forced her head up and back, and drove his hips forward.

He saw her eyes widen, then bulge, and her body twisted violently in response, but he had her firmly in place as he forced his cock into her throat, and then down it all the way.

"Swallow it, whore! Swallow that cock!" he snapped. "Swallow!"









Two



Shawn was determined. And when Shawn was determined nothing would stand in her way. It was how she had come from growing up in a backwater southern town to being one of Hollywood's more famous, if notorious stars. She was rich, now, beyond the wildest dreams of the teenage girl who had grown up in rural Mississippi, but it wasn't enough.

It didn't bother her what the tabloids said. She didn't give a shit about what people thought of her. They were all just jealous anyway, of her looks, her fame, her fortune and success. Little nobodies, that's what they were. If you wanted something in life you had to fight for it and take it. She'd learned that a long time ago. She took shit from no one!

Sure that had caused her a lot of troubles with producers, directors, writers, and her co-stars. So what? It got her better lines, better clothes, better close-ups, better storylines which featured her instead of her co-stars. On her last show she'd fought endlessly with Kelly Moore, her co-star, over billing, over clothes, over stories, camera angles, simply everything. And why not? Kelly was a big girl, had, like Shawn, spent her life in front of the camera, and knew what she wanted. They were two strong willed young women. It would have been surprising if they hadn't fought.

But Kelly had won over the director with her phony little cutesy pie act, her flattery and, no doubt, by blowing him in his trailer. She had a reputation just as bad as Shawn's for fucking anyone she felt like, male or female, or anyone who could help her career. She'd probably fucked the producer to get the role in the first place. Shawn had had to, after all.

And now she was unemployed, and almost unemployable. Not even offering her body would tempt producers into giving her a major role. Just because she stood up for herself! Bastards! Men were all bastards! Yes, she still had a lot of money, but she also had expensive tastes, and no desire to economize. She needed this role desperately if she was to get back into the spotlight.

The problem was that Deveraux was a notorious prick. And admired for it, too! That was how unfair life was. And she knew damned well he'd fucked half the starlets in Hollywood. Still, offering herself was all she could think to do. Despite how clear he'd made it that he wasn't going to hire her. She had to try. You never got anywhere by giving up easily.

Her pride had been hurt at how little interest he had shown in her, at first, but then she'd thought she had him when he started talking about disciplining her. She'd thought she knew what that meant. So what? She'd been spanked before. One producer had even made her dress up like a schoolgirl, year's back, when she wasn't much more than a schoolgirl in fact. He'd spanked her and fucked her, and she'd gotten her first major role.

She'd been angry and resentful that she had to lower herself to do it, but she'd done it, and was more than willing to do it again. In fact, when he'd handed her the collar she'd even started to get a little aroused. When she'd put on the leather restraints and knelt naked beside his chair, well, she'd started to get into it. Why not? Deveraux exuded power, and she loved power.

But she'd never gotten into this kind of thing, not this deeply. Crawling across the floor on the end of a leash was so - exciting, that the hair had stood up on the back of her neck. It was wild! And at the same time it was infuriating, degrading. She had never felt such a bizarre mixture of emotions as she crawled across the floor at his heels, on the end of a leash.

Until she'd crawled back, with a dildo buried in her ass and another one shoved deep into her pussy. Fuck! She was feeling a bit stunned that she'd actually done it. Yes, she'd fucked men for jobs before, but never gone this far, shoving dildos up her ass while they looked down at her. And yet she crawled along at his feet, and then he'd smacked that switch across her ass! It stung, but it seemed to stun her even more, so that she was a little adrift, no longer the self assured, confident young woman she was when she'd come in.

The room seemed to be the longest in the world as she'd set hand in front of hand, knee in front of knee, feeling them sink into the deep, soft rug as she crawled, seeing his ankles just ahead of her and to the side, gasping, feeling her breasts hanging heavily beneath her, the dildos filling her, her sex lips wrapped tightly around the one in her pussy.

This is so fucking weird and kinky. I can't believe I'm doing this! Fuck! I must be insane! That miserable sicko!

When her wrists had finally been locked together behind her a rush of heat had swept through her body and mind, so much heat that even being roughly yanked up by the hair hadn't done anything to dampen it. But now she stared in disbelief, gurgling and choking on cock as he rammed himself down into her throat. She panicked and tried to twist away, her eyes bulging, her stomach fluttering, threatening to turn over.

Her scalp ached, stung, as he held her hair firmly and forced her mouth down his cock. She choked and gagged, and stared as he pulled her forward and jammed her face in against his groin. She could feel his cock deep inside her, filling her throat, and it was very hard to control herself as her head pounded and her lungs began to burn from lack of air.

She'd seen women - and men - deep throating cocks, of course, in porno videos. She'd even tried it a few times, with little luck. Of course, most of those times she'd had a lot to drink, so that might have had something to do with her failure.

I can't breath! I can't breath! Fuck! Let me up! Stop it!

He pulled back at last, and then slapped her face stingingly. She'd gagged and choked, but the slap had shocked her system, distracted her as his cockhead popped free of her throat, and she quickly regained control over herself, gasping and gulping in air, coughing violently as he rubbed his saliva coated cock over her face.

"What's the matter, slut? Don't tell me you don't like the taste of cock," he sneered.

Gasping, panting, she cried out as he slapped her face again, this time not as stingingly. "Tell me you love cock, slut," he demanded, slapping her again. "Tell me you love cock."

"I-I love c-cock!" she gasped.

"Again!" He twisted her hair sharply and she cried out, her head forced up and back.

"I love cock!" she cried

"Tell me you love to suck cock," he growled, bending her head even further back, forcing her back to arch sharply and painfully

"I love to suck cock!" she cried.

He yanked her forward roughly, and his cock sliced right through her open mouth and right down her throat before she even understood what was happening. Her face was jammed into his groin and his hands held her firmly there as her body twisted and jerked and strained against him.

He pulled out again, and again she gasped and coughed and gagged, as he slapped her face, right cheek, left cheek, right cheek, then yanked her forward by the hair again and once more rammed his cock right down her throat.

"You're going to get used to deep throating cocks, you little whore."

He pulled out again and held her by a fistful of hair as she coughed and sucked in air, swaying and moaning.

"That's the rough way, slut. Want to do it more gently?"

"Y-Yes," she gasped, her eyes rolling a bit in her head, her vision unsteady.

"All right. All you have to do is obey. Understand? Obey. That's always your big problem. That's why we're here. You need to learn to obey."

He twisted her hair, forcing her head back. "Understand?"

"Yes!" she cried, wrists twisting feebly in the leather restraints.

He pulled her forward again, shoving his cock into her mouth.

"Suck, whore!"

Shawn closed her lips and sucked frantically, licking at the head.

"Now bob your lips up and down, up and down. That's it, slut. You know how to do that. Up and down, up and down."

She ran her lips up and down his cock, licking, hoping to bring him off, but he was made of sterner stuff, and simply looked down at her, watching, his hands resting on her head.

Fucking scum! I'm going to do this! I have to do this!

"Deeper, slut. Deeper."

She braced herself, forcing her lips down farther and farther, gagging a little now as his cockhead pushed against her throat.

"You're supposed to be a strong-willed woman, Shawn," he said. "So now you can demonstrate that strong will. You have to master your gag reflex, master your body. You know it can be done. You've seen women swallow cock before. Now you do it. Swallow my fucking. Slide those pretty, fuckable lips of yours all the way down to my balls."

"Now!"

And she did, panicking a bit, thrusting her mouth forward, swallowing, taking him into her throat, then down her throat, sliding her lips all the way up the length of his fat, spit wet cock until her face was jammed against his groin.

I did it!

In the midst of her dazedness she felt elated, fighting off the gag reflex, fighting to control herself, holding her face pressed against him for long seconds before slowly pulling back. She pulled free with a gasp, coughing several times, but feeling a wave of relief.

"Good girl," he said, his voice holding some warmth now, sounding pleased.

Shawn found herself pathetically grateful for that warmth,

"Now do it again."

And she did, and it was even easier now, as if some crucial block in her mind had been broken. She knew she could do it, and so she could.

Again and again he forced her to swallow him to the hilt, speaking softly now, friendly, patting her head, stroking his fingers gently through her hair as she bobbed her lips up and down his stiff prick. A part of her seemed to drift outside herself, delighted with herself for learning such a sexy trick, thinking of the men she knew who would be wide eyed with delight when she demonstrated it on them.

Deveraux was a miserable prick, but she found herself feeling grateful towards him as she worked on his cock.

She knew what he was doing, though, when he pulled out, when he held her hair tightly and pumped his cock. She knew it only a moment, feeling a surge of shock, of denial, and then of excitement as his cock spewed its juices over her face.

Someone had done that to her a few years back and she'd punched him in the balls and stormed out of his place in fury. She'd been seething for days.

This time, for some reason, she didn't feel that anger. Maybe it was because she knew he was trying to degrade her, trying to upset her, trying to make her angry. Maybe it was because she was relieved that he'd finally come. And maybe it was because this time she didn't mind being degraded, this time she was getting off on being degraded.

With a shove he sent her falling back to land on her bound arms, gasping, moaning weakly, chest heaving.

He zipped up and went back behind his desk, then sat down. Shawn lay on the rug, chest heaving, eyes slitted. And then they jerked wide at the sound of the door opening and closing. Her head twisted around and she gasped, struggling to rise as the blonde secretary strode into the room.

Oh my God!

"Ah, Janine," Deveraux said. "Get a washcloth for Miss Donnelly, would you please?"

The woman nodded calmly, as if seeing a naked actress sprawled on the floor were an everyday occurrence. As Shawn struggled to her knees she turned and went to the bar, then behind it. Shawn heard the water being run, and pulled helplessly at the leather restraints as she stared, stricken, at Deveraux...

Her face flushed red with shame as the woman returned, and she half turned away from her, dropping her eyes.

Then a strong hand gripped her hair, gently, but firmly, and forced her head up, though not as far back as Deveraux had. Shawn gasped as the woman wiped her face with a warm, damp facecloth. She saw a cold, blue-eyed face above her, then rolled her eyes away in embarrassment.

The woman finished wiping the come off her face, and went back to the bar, while Shawn knelt; face burning with embarrassment and anger, glaring at Deveraux.

He smiled back at her. "Don't worry about Janine," he said. "She's quite discrete. Isn't that right, Janine?"

"Yes, Mr. Deveraux," the girl called from the bar.

Deveraux held the quirt in his hand, and Shawn stared warily as he caressed her cheek with the tip.

"Janine has many talents, and does many things for me. Isn't that so, Janine?"

"Yes, Mr. Deveraux."

"Spread your knees wide, slut," he ordered, tapping at Shawn's breasts. "And straighten your back."

Shawn obeyed, her face hot, unnerved by this new spectator to her degradation.

"I don't like cunt hair," he said. "I think a woman's pussy looks ugly and dirty with all that hair around it. It feels a lot softer without hair too. We'll get rid of yours."

The quirt had a sharp little weighted tip, and he let it slap lightly against Shawn's right nipple as the actress knelt at his feet, gulping in air.

"As you're going to be my little slave girl for a while, Miss Donnelly," I think we should dress you the part in a most - intimate fashion. Janine has experience in that, as well. Don't you, Janine?"

"Yes, Mr. Deveraux," the blonde replied coolly.

Deveraux moved behind her, and Shawn turned her head, trying to follow him with her eyes. She gasped as he sliced the quirt across her back.

"Did I tell you to turn your head?" he demanded. "Keep your back straight, shoulders back, chin up and face forward. When I want you to move I'll tell you."

Still flushing, Shawn obeyed, heart pounding, as Deveraux circled her again, and paused before her, slapping at her left nipple now with the little quirt, using short, sharp little strokes that made her erect nipple throb and sting.

"Doesn't she have lovely nipples, Janine?"

"Yes Mr. Deveraux."

He moved behind her and suddenly put his foot between her shoulder blades. Shawn gasped as she was flung forward, turning her head aside as she sprawled on her belly on the rug.

"Go over and thank Janine for washing the come off your face, whore. Then beg her to prepare you like a proper little slave."

Shawn's face burned, but she was determined, and, to her mind, had already gone through far too much to throw it away by disobeying now. She started to rise, then cried out as the quirt sliced across her back, driving her back to her belly.

"Crawl on your belly, you little whore," Deveraux said in contempt.

God, she hated him! Shawn let a litany of vile curses flow through her mind, accompanied by horrible, violent, bloodthirsty acts of dismemberment and murder. But, clenching her teeth, she began to wriggle and push herself across the floor towards where the blonde stood by the bar. It was humiliating, but she would endure it. And some day she would get back at him, at both of them!

Her breasts ached, even on the plush rug, as she was forced to roll her weight from side to side and grind slowly forward. Her nipples were already stinging from his treatment, and now her breasts, pillowed beneath her chest, were rolled and squeezed painfully by her own weight as she used her legs to force herself forward over the floor.

Ten feet, gasping, twenty feet, panting, thirty feet, sweating, grunting with effort. And now she was off the rug and onto the bare floor, wincing as her soft breasts ground over the marble, her eyes refusing to meet the cool, smirking face of the blonde who patiently awaited her.

But finally she was there, lying at her feet. She started to rise but a long leg rose and a stiletto heeled foot came down on her back, forcing her back down.

"I did not say you could move, little one," the girl said.

Flushing with anger, Shawn barely bit back a snarl. Stinking little bitch!

"You will obey her as you would me," Deveraux called over.

Shawn shuddered, took a deep breath, then let lifted her head, rolling her eyes upwards.

The girl smiled coyly down at her, and eased her foot off of her back. "You like my shoe, little girl?" she asked, shoving the pointed tip at Shawn's face.

Shawn pursed her lips tightly.

"I asked you a question, Miss Donnelly."

"Yes," Shawn said, thinking it over briefly.

"Show me how you like them, Miss Donnelly," she ordered, pushing the pointed tip at Shawn's mouth, jamming it against her lips.

Shawn tried to turn her head aside.

"Show me your tongue, Miss," the blonde ordered.

Again Shawn was unnerved. She'd suspected since Deveraux had thrown her to her belly that she would be ordered to do something sexual with the girl. But this was more, worse, much worse. Submitting to a powerful man of wealth like Deveraux, a man who could do so much for her was one thing. Submitting to a powerless little blonde slut who answered his phone was something entirely different. Besides, she had always had a tremendous rivalry with other beautiful women, had always sought to assert her superiority over them.

"Now, Miss," the blonde ordered curtly.

Shawn was frozen with indecision, with anger, with determination, her entire being rebelling against doing what she knew the blonde slut wanted. She could not degrade herself like this before another woman! Yet if she failed to obey - Deveraux had made it clear that she was being tested.

So this was between him and her, she thought. The girl was merely a pawn, something to test her, like the dildo. Well fuck him! He wasn't going to get her to break their deal. She'd had sex with women before."

She pushed her tongue out and licked at the girl's shoe.

She felt a flood of anger and determination at the touch, even a bit of arrogant triumph. She'd shown him! She wasn't going to be that easy to put off. She could too obey when she wanted to. She could demonstrate discipline!

But there was something else with it, a kind of tingling electrical shock as her tongue licked at the girl's shoe, a disturbing kind of almost dizziness for a moment as her position and what she was doing put her into a sense of sexually charged submission. She let her eyes roll up as her tongue lapped slowly at the girl's pointed shoe, and when the girl lifted her foot and pushed the heel against her mouth she felt a shudder in her groin, letting her lips slide up it, sucking on it, even licking it as the girl pressed the bottom of her shoe into her face.

The girl's smirk threatened to set her anger to boiling, but she repressed it, partly because she was growing aroused again despite herself. Then she pulled her foot away from Shawn's mouth and reached down, gripping a fist full of hair. Shawn gasped in pain, scrambling to get her knees under her and push herself up as the blonde pulled her into a kneeling position before her.

"Thank me, Miss Donnelly," the girl ordered calmly.

"I-I... th-thank you for... for wiping my face," Shawn stuttered.

"Thank me for doing what to your face, Miss Donnelly? Was something on it?"

Shawn felt her face heat once more. "Thank you for wiping the come off my face," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

"I think your thanks should be more substantial than that, Donnelly," Deveraux called from his desk.

The blonde smiled and eased up her short mini. Beneath, she was bare, entirely, with no panties, and no hair. She spread her legs and pulled Shawn's face into her groin, and the brunette began to trace her tongue up and down the tight little slit.

"Not here. I have work to do," Deveraux said.

Turning her head, Shawn saw he was seated at his desk again, leafing through papers. She felt an upwelling outrage that he was ignoring her, delegating her to some flunky, some whore secretary.

Then the girl released her hair, taking the leash instead, then bent and gripped her wrist restraints, unlocking them.

"Crawl, Miss Donnelly," she ordered, tugging on the leash as she headed for the door.

Shawn took a final furious look at Deveraux, who did not look up from his desk, and crawled after the girl. She would put up with her - not for long, perhaps, but for a bit, to see where this led.

"Remember, Donnelly," he called. "I won't be on the set either. But you will be required to obey my people there. If you can't obey them here then you certainly can't be trusted to obey them on a set."

Shawn dropped her eyes, glaring at the floor beneath her as she crawled after the blonde. The girl led her out into the hall and closed the door behind, then tugged on the leash and led her up the hall. She immediately felt a sense of fear, staring, listening anxiously.

Jesus Christ! What if someone sees me like this!

"Don't worry that anyone will see you who shouldn't," the blonde said. "We are all most discrete."

Shawn found this less than reassuring as she crawled naked at the blonde's heels, the dildos still sticking out of her pussy and anal opening.

The blonde led her into a kind of work room. There were several metal cabinets against the walls, a counter with double sink on one side, and a rough table covered in electrical equipment on the other.

The girl stopped, and closed the door, then tugged on the leash, positioning Shawn back on her heels. She bent and pulled her wrists back, locking them together behind her, then stepped before her and raised her skirt.

"Show me how grateful you are, Miss Donnelly," the girl ordered.

She pulled Shawn's face in against her shaven sex, and Shawn began to lick without hesitation. She'd performed on women before, and was comfortable having sex with attractive girls like herself, though she'd never done it as a submissive, never involved herself in bondage with them.

It felt odd, uncomfortable, but exciting too, kneeling before the blonde, wrists bound, performing oral sex. The girl was also responsive, and was soon gasping and moaning softly in response to Shawn's stroking tongue. It was weird, Shawn thought, but hot anyway, and she licked hungrily at the girl's clitoris as the young blonde began to jerk against her head, rolling her hips forward into her mouth.

The girl's fingers tightened in her hair and she bucked sharply and repeatedly into her face as she came, then with a sigh, released her and eased back, breathing heavily, resting on the edge of the table for long seconds.

"Stand up, please," the girl ordered, then, slightly breathless.

Shawn obeyed, trying to stand as straight as possible. For the millionth time she cursed her lack of height as the girl easily towered over her.

The blonde removed the leash from her collar, then left her standing in the middle of the room as she went to the wall. There was a length of chain hanging from a block and tackle overhead, and as she unfastened it and pulled, Shawn realized there was a rail overhead, and the chain was fitted to it so that it could be positioned over any part of the room. The girl pulled it over above her, and took her right wrist.

"Raise your hands above your head, please," she requested.

Shawn obeyed, feeling a little rush of excitement as she raised her head and looked up at the metal bar the girl was positioning over her head. Janine had her right hand and guided it to one side of the bar, snapping it in place with the aid of a tiny metal ring. Shawn felt her pulse shoot up, and gripped the other end of the bar as the girl turned her attention to her other wrist, snapping it to the bar as well.

"Spread your legs," the girl ordered.

Shawn obeyed, but the girl shook her head, and stepped on her right foot, crushing her toes so that the little brunette gasped in pain.

"Wider, please," Janine said.

Shawn spread her legs wider, and wider, until she was barely able to stand on them. Janine then bent and locked her ankle restraints to rings set in the floor, pinning her in position, on the balls of her feet, arms spread above her.

"Thank you," Janine said.

Fuck you, you little slut.

She moved to one of the cabinets and took out a thick mass of latex or rubber, returning to stand in front of Shawn.

"Open your mouth, please," she ordered.

Shawn obeyed warily, looking at the black leather object in the girl's hands with suspicion. It went into her mouth easily, but attached to it was a thick hose and a ball, and the girl began to squeeze the ball. Not a ball, but a bulb, Shawn realized, as the latex thing in her mouth began to inflate. It filled her mouth and crushed her tongue down, pressing against the insides of her cheeks, the roof of her mouth, and her teeth and lips.

It forced her jaw open wider, and then wider still, growing harder inside her, and starting to bring pain to her jaw. The girl halted, and released the little bulb. The device was now filling her mouth and was too big to get out again through her teeth, not unless she tore them open even further somehow, and she didn't think she could do that without her jaw breaking.

The girl turned away again, and pushed over a small, high cart on wheels. On it was a bowl containing a number of small plastic bags, a squirt bottle, several gauze pads, and some menacing looking metal tools that looked straight from a dentist's office. The girl pulled on a pair of surgical gloves, which unnerved Shawn, then picked up a small pincer type tool and guided it to her right breast. When Shawn tried to jerk back the girl's eyes rose to catch hers. "Hold still, please," she said.

Shawn tried to speak, almost instinctively, and felt a surge of helplessness at being unable to do even that. The girl caught her breast just behind the nipple, the metal tool pressing down, squeezing against her areola. She rubbed her fingers against the nipple, which was already erect, then drew back for a moment.

She picked up the squeezed bottle and one of the little gauze pads, and squeezed something onto the pad, then began to rub at Shawn's nipples. The pad was cool and the smell antiseptic, which only unnerved her more.

Fuck! What is this bitch doing!?

Janine picked up one of the plastic bags and tore it open. Inside was a long, thin needle, and Shawn's eyes went wide as she lifted it out and picked up the tool again.

She shook her head wildly, but the girl ignored her and squeezed down on the base of her nipple again. Shawn tried to twist away, but her body was tautly stretched already.

"Don't move or it will hurt more," the girl said.

Shawn shook her head again, but the girl pressed the needle against the side of her nipple, and then - pain exploded in her head. Shawn screamed into the gag, jerking her head up and back as the hot, stinging pain made her eyes tear and sent a shockwave through her body. Yet it was over almost as soon as it started, before her muffled scream had even finished.

Her nipple ached a little, but the sharp, terrible pain was gone. Shawn gasped, drawing her head up and forward. She felt the cool, overhead air against her forehead and realized she was sweating. The girl was placing a stainless steel ring through her nipple, a bit one, about as thick as a large man's thumb ring. It dangled there, not as heavy as it looked, and the girl tore open another packet.

Shawn moaned, and sagged weakly, helplessly in her bonds, watching as the girl brought the tools up to her other nipple, squeezed it, then endured another shockwave of agony, screaming into the gag as the needle drove through her sensitive pink nipple and out the other side. Her muscles all contracted as she jerked violently against the restraints, but to little purpose, and she sagged a moment later, gasping.

The girl pushed the cart away and rolled over another, lower one. She next pulled over a little stool on wheels and sat before her. There was an electric shaver on the little cart, and Janine picked it up and began to use it. Shawn only had a thin line of pubic hair, but Janine removed it all, carefully going over her pubic area until only a faint stubble remained.

This cart was pushed away too, and another brought over. Janine lifted up what looked like a pair of welding goggles and placed them over the beleaguered actress's eyes, then put a second pair on herself and sat. In her hands was a strange looking tool plugged into one of the machines on the table.

The little metal tool began to blink with a strange, bright light as the blonde moved it slowly over her groin. Shawn stared, frowning in confusion at first, simply relieved it didn't hurt. But then she realized what the woman was doing. The device was a small laser, and she was burning away her pubic hair follicles, in effect, permanently removing her pubic hair.

Shawn wasn't sure she liked the idea, but then again, she was hardly in a position to object. It had a certain appeal, too. She always kept herself shaved very short, but it was a pain and a bother. She had watched more than a few porn movies, and had long thought of removing all her hair. She'd even shaved it all off a few times, but the aftereffects weren't pleasant, especially when it started to return.

Now it wouldn't. But still, it was embarrassing, standing in the middle of the room, legs spread, while this blonde girl stared at her sex. Nor did it help - or maybe it did - that the base of the dildo protruded from her sex lips, and another stuck slightly out of her anal opening.

The girl seemed not to notice, working intently, the little tool moving slowly from side to side, up and down along the edges of her sex lips, then wider, and still wider, then down along her inner thighs and up into her groin again.

Shawn's legs were getting sore and stiff, her ankles beginning to throb with effort, her arms aching. Her pussy burned a little from the laser, but only a little. Her nipples hurt more, and she stared at them, wondering what they looked like from a distance, wishing a mirror was nearby.

Pierced nipples weren't so bad, she thought, now that the worst of the pain had fled. They were even kind of sexy. This whole scene was fucking insane, though, she thought, amazed at what she had allowed to happen, amazed she was still enduring it, and wondering how much more was to come.

The girl put the tool away, running her fingers slowly over Shawn's sex, and Shawn felt the smoothness there she had never felt after her shaving. Not even a trace of hair remained, not the faintest hint of stubble. She felt a little surge of excitement and anticipation as the girl's fingers traced the line of her sex as it gripped the dildo.

She flicked her thumb across Shawn's clitoris, and the brunette lurched a little, gasping into the gag filling her mouth. The girl, still seated, brought her gloved hands up around Shawn's hips and squeezed her buttocks, pulling her bare sex into her mouth, then began to lick slowly and expertly across her clitoris.

Shawn drew her head back, moaning, breathing growing more ragged as the girl's tongue lapped across her clit. The girl drew her hands back, and Shawn felt the dildo move, felt it slide down, then up. Janine began to pump it in and out as she licked more energetically at Shawn's clit, and the actress fought to control the heat surging up within her body as delicious sensations of pleasure rolled along her spine.

As the girl continued Shawn began to lose herself to the pleasure. She was a very sexual woman who had denied herself few experiences of pleasure. She loved to have her clitoris stimulated, and the blonde girl clearly was an expert. The dildo in her anus and the steady pressure there made her insides quiver, and the pumping of the dildo forced waves of sensory excitement up her body. But the girl's tongue was what was driving her slowly insane.

She grunted as the girl thrust the dildo painfully deep into her belly, her head rolling back as she let more weight down on her wrists. She didn't really notice the rougher rough of the gauze pad as it was wiped back and forth over her clit. And only gasped as the girl's fingers squeezed in at the base of her engorged clitoris.

The pain was sharp, intense, but so brief that before she even realized it it was gone, and Shawn had only a chance to jerk once in her bonds, then stare down before the blonde girl had inserted the ring. Janine then picked up a stainless steel vibrator, turned it on, and let it run up and down along her throbbing clitoris. The sensation was only a little painful, and her heat was such that the vibrations set her off into a massive climax in less than a minute.





Three



There was a ring piercing her clitoral hood. A small round ball, like a pea was at the centre of it, surprisingly heavy as it pressed against her clit. And it bounced slightly as the girl led her back down the hall. She walked this time, with the girl holding her leash, and her wrists bound behind her back. Her gag was still in place, but the protective goggles were gone.

They returned to Deveraux's office, and Shawn blushed as she was led over beside his desk and the man looked up from his work, then reached up to run his hand over her bare groin.

"Much better," he said. "Put her in the corner."

The blonde tugged on her leash, jerking Shawn off balance, taking her back into the other side of the room. There was a heavy ornately carved lamp there. It had a heavy, polished vertical base, from which emerged a long, arched arm curving up and out. A lamp hung on the end. But the blonde removed the lampshade, then unscrewed the bulb and placed them aside. What was left was the empty socket, and a metal ring screwed into the end of the lamp that did not look to her like something which was part of the original design.

The girl tugged on her collar, led her directly beneath the ring, then gripped her wrists and - lifted.

Shawn grunted as her wrists were forced up. For, of course, this forced her to bend forward at the waist. The higher her wrists were lifted, the more she had to bend, and the blonde girl forced her wrists straight up, then locked them with a short chain to the ring set in the end of the arm above her.

She reached beneath the bent over actress to fondle her breasts lightly, then clipped a pair of small weighted balls to the rings piercing her nipples, and then left her alone, closing the door behind her.

Shawn stood awkwardly the balls of her feet, naked, hairless, gagged, forced up painfully, bent over, flush with inner heat, yet feeling a dark anger and embarrassment as Deveraux, who, after glancing at her, returned to his work, examining papers, initialing them, signing here and there, and largely ignoring her.

Filthy, arrogant bastard! I'll get him some day! I'll make him pay!

She was stupid, as well, she thought, with a sense of guilt, shame and self loathing. She should never have agreed to this, should never have allowed herself to be placed in such a position of helplessness. She should force him to release her and then - and then - well, she would force them to hire her somewhere else - somehow. She could start with small roles, and eventually - .

Fuck! What is that perverted bastard doing to me!?

Her hair was a dark, silk curtain around her face, her head hanging low. At first she continued to lift her head up, to look across at him, but as time passed her neck grew increasingly weaker, her head heavier. Her arms grew cold and stiff, her shoulders began to burn. Her back ached. Her nipples throbbed.

What is he doing!? How long is he going to keep me like this!?

The weights tugged on her small nipples, and every time she moved they swung and pulled. It was not completely unpleasant - even her position was not completely unpleasant - because Shawn was aroused by what Deveraux was doing to her, despite her anger and resentment. She had found bondage exciting, but had never really gotten into it to this degree, lacking trust.

What was worse, she didn't trust Deveraux at all, and that gave her a feeling of wild uncertainty about what he would do to her. That made her anxious but it also piqued her wild side, so that her pussy spasmed and squeezed around the dildo buried inside her.

At last Deveraux rose and walked across the room. Shawn raised her eyes wearily, her neck aching, and felt her heart beat more quickly as Deveraux grew closer. Then she cried out - the sound muffled - as he gripped her loose hair and yanked her head up and back. He smiled down at her, then reached for the gag. With a touch, the thing deflated, and her aching jaw began to ache even more fiercely as it slowly began to close.

Then his cock thrust through her open lips and with hardly a pause, drove straight down her throat. She gagged weakly, jerking against the chains, pain lancing through her shoulders as she twisted in place. Deveraux drove himself balls-deep into her mouth, and then ground his pelvis against her face, pulling and deliberately twisting his fingers in her hair.

"Are you starting to learn a little discipline, Donnelly?" he asked, pumping slowly, keeping his cock deep in her throat. "Are you starting to learn there are limits to what a cheap little bimbo can get away with?"

He pulled his cock out and released her hair. Her head fell heavily, and she gasped in pain, coughed violently as a long stream of saliva fell from her slack jaw. She staggered weakly, pulling her shoulders up painfully as he moved behind her.

His fingers found the dildo in her pussy, and he began to pump it in and out, jamming it painfully deep inside her with each quick thrust. Then he pulled it out and drove his own cock into her to the hilt.

It felt - good, she thought, despite herself. No dildo felt as good inside her as a stiff cock, and Deveraux knew how to use his, grinding his pelvis against her buttocks even as he reached past her arms and gripped her hair, yanking her head up and back. Even that, though it stung, helped add to the heat within her. Shawn had seldom been a girl who engaged in slow, gentle sex. She'd always been a wild child, and liked her sex the same way.

And this was wild.

Helpless, tied, bent over, at his mercy, her pussy burned as his big cock sliced back and forth through her sex lips. Her nipples burned as the weighted balls swung to and fro. Her bottom began to pinken as his hips slapped against it, and her shoulders and arms throbbed with pain as he forced her body forward and back.

She was a wild child, and she was being used hard, and she loved it, even while hating the man doing it. She felt the burning spread and deepen, and gasped repeatedly with the intensity of the sensations each time he drove his long, thick cock into her belly. Her eyes began to glaze and she gulped in air, moaning and wincing in pain as he pulled and twisted at her hair, then yelping as she slapped at the sides of her dangling breasts.

And then the orgasm hit, and it was all she could do to retain enough sanity not to fall away, to keep her legs beneath her so her body didn't drop and dislocate her arms. Fire ran wildly through her veins as she gurgled and grunted in animal pleasure, her body shuddering and shaking as her muscles spasmed and pulsed.

Shawn strode past the blonde receptionist, not wanting to look at her, but was halted at the door as the girl called after her. Furious at herself for blushing, she turned and the girl held out a card to her.

'Mr. Deveraux instructed me to give this to you, Miss Donnelly," she said.

Shawn strode back to the desk, snatched the card, turned, and left, not meeting the girl's eyes. She cursed herself, cursed Deveraux, and cursed the blonde, and hoped Deveraux was right about her being reliable and keeping her mouth shut.

I can't fucking believe I did that!

In a life which had had more than its share of wild sexual incidents that had been the wildest, the kinkiest. And it left her squirming inside her mind, uncomfortable with what she'd been forced to do, and yet oddly aroused by it as well. She ignored the two men who stared unabashedly at her as she rode down in the library, then put on her oversized sunglasses as she slipped into her Porsche and headed for the street.

I can't wait to get out of this slut dress.

It wasn't like she was twenty any more. She didn't dress like an old maid but nor did she wear slut dresses like this in public nowadays. The fucking tabloids had enough on her as it was. Not to mention the internet, which was filled with pictures of her half naked. Most of them had been posed for, of course, but a few were candids taken long distance, by photographers who'd caught her at the beach, sunbathing.

Nobody had gotten her pussy yet, though, and now that she was denuded of hair they never would. She bit her lip as she pulled out onto the street. How was she supposed to explain that if she ever did an R-rated movie which wanted full frontal? She supposed they'd have to fake some pussy hair for her. Aside from porn movies Hollywood was loath to show actual genitalia. Women's pubic hair was about as far as they went - and now she had none.

Fuck, that man is sick in the head. What a fucking pervert.

She sighed and moved through traffic, trying to put her mind on the show instead. Deveraux hadn't promised it to her, of course, but surely she'd gone through enough now that she was almost there. She'd put up with more shit in the last two hours than in her entire life!

She frowned and checked her purse. The card the woman had given her had an appointment on it for the following night at a Beverly Hills address. She felt a little thrill of excitement together with a pang of anxiety. What more would that sicko do to her? Would there be other people there? He had said he would share her with others, but she'd thought him just bluffing till the blonde had come into the room.

Shawn had once done two men at once. Come to that she'd once done a pair of female twins at once. But that was the extent of her experience with multiple partners. She'd been drunk both times, too. Now she was supposed to go to his place, she presumed, cold sober and what, fuck him and maybe some of his friends. The idea appalled her.

It wasn't the sex itself that she feared. It was almost something she couldn't understand, couldn't place. She had a good imagination, though, and could imagine herself naked, set apart; maybe several men staring at her while she burned with embarrassment. She would feel - feel - low, used, dirty, cheap, and worse, powerless and a victim. She hated being weak, being seen as weak, being seen as inferior in some ways.

That was why she loved the wealth and fame. They were symbols, along with her beauty, that she was a somebody, that she was important. And Deveraux seemed intent on treating her like she was cheap, no account, trailer park trash.

She cursed sulfurously as she drove through traffic, heading into Beverly Hills, and she lived as well. She didn't have Deveraux's money, of course, but having spent most of her life as a successful actress she was not poor.

Her house was not an enormous mansion, just a tasteful little five thousand square foot chateau. The electronic gate slid aside as she pulled the Porsche into the driveway, and the garage door slid up as she drove in and parked next to the black SUV she usually drove.

She got out with a sigh and headed through the house and upstairs to the main bedroom, and stripped off the slut dress in passing before going into the attached bathroom. The bathroom was about twenty five foot square, with a huge round white tub elevated on a platform, and a shining wall of mirror over a long marble counter.

She gazed at herself in its light, combing her fingers through her hair, then looking at the nipple rings still hanging from her sore pink buttons. She fingered them lightly, admitting to herself that hey looked very sexy. She drew her hands away, arching her back, giving herself a seductive look in the mirror.

Yes, it did indeed look very hot. She wasn't as certain about her bare pussy. It looked so - so bare - that it unnerved her a little. She bent and examined the little ring, and wondered if it would wind up stimulating her all day long. She was surprised it didn't hurt that much, and wondered what her boyfriends would think when they saw it.

I need a fucking bath. I hope these things don't sting.

There were two videos produced by the man he hired to look after such things. The man was a talented porn director, but that of course, only made him well off. It also made him dirt in the eyes of Hollywood, which meant, while he got a lot of pussy, none of it was of the quality Deveraux could provide him. He didn't even have to pay the man. He was happy to do it just to see Hollywood's top celebrities in the nude, doing wild, kinky things.

And to be occasionally provided with one of them for his more personal enjoyment.

Deveraux hadn't decided if he'd let him fuck Donnelly yet. Probably. For the moment he examined the two videos the man had produced. The first was a souvenir tape for Deveraux, showing her in all her naked beauty, showing her bound and obedient, crawling, degrading herself, performing for him, being ridden by him. It was quite well shot, for the man knew exactly what angles and positions Deveraux preferred.

The second was pure blackmail, showing her at her sluttiest, with no one else's face or voice recorded. It was accompanied by still shots, pictures of Donnelly with her mouth full of cock, or her tongue on a wet pussy, shoving dildos up her ass and crawling across the floor, the kind of pictures that would ruin her if they got out.

They would be filed carefully away with the others, the ones of all the other top television and film celebrities, both male and female, ready to use if any of them gave him any trouble, occasionally shared with close friends - just as their bodies were occasionally shared with his close friends, like it or not.

People often wondered how he got certain actors and actresses to perform in movies that were beneath them, or of a style they couldn't possibly have respected. It was because of his files. No one said no to him, not unless they wanted more and more graphic pictures and even videos released to the tabloids.

This video and these pictures were just the beginning of the file he would have on Donnelly, but he doubted he'd need them. When he was done with her she'd do his bidding without much need of threats. Some of the actresses he'd used had gone stumbling from the office in tears, horrified at what they'd done. But Donnelly, well, she might be angry and ashamed, but she'd gotten off on it. And she'd got off on it again - and again.

Shawn slid slowly through the water of the pool. Her back yard was small, but secluded, with high walls to keep out the paparazzi. She had a little waterfall build at one end, and water splashed and tumbled down over faux rocks and into a swimming pool which had been shaped to look like a natural pond or pool.

She was nude, and the water skimmed across her soft skin as she swam towards the falls. She stood under them, letting the water tumble over her head and shoulders, pulling her hair back from her forehead as she arched her back. Then she dove forward, swimming across the pool towards the far shore, turning and turning in the water until she reached the end and climbed lazily out.

She reached up behind her and squeezed the water out of her hair as she padded across the rock, then glanced at her watch and felt a little twinge in her gut. It was late afternoon, and the time for her "appointment" with Deveraux was fast approaching. She felt a surge of anger, of fury and frustration. She was perfect for that part! She shouldn't have to beg and crawl and swallow that bastard's cock to get it! And now what? Was he going to pimp her out to his friends?!

She set her jaw as she snatched up a towel and drew it around her head, rubbing at her hair. Deveraux was going to find out there were limits to what she would do to get a part, even this part. That son of a bitch!

She didn't dress up this time, wearing jeans and a tank top with a loose black shirt over top. She drove the SUV and headed further up the hill, her stomach fluttering a little. She was not exactly a shy girl, but who knew what Deveraux had in mind for her? Or what she would be expected to do?

She found his place easily enough. It took up the entire block, with a high stone wall around it and an enormous front yard shaded by century old trees. The gate slid aside when she buzzed, and she drove through and up to the front door, then climbed out, purse slung over her shoulder, and went to the main door. It was opened before she could ring, by the blonde girl Janine, dressed in a business suit, though with a short skirt.

Shawn nodded curtly and moved past her. The blonde closed the door behind her as Shawn eyed her moodily.

I hate tall women

"This way, Miss Donnelly," the girl said, leading her up a huge rounded staircase to the second floor.

Shawn looked around suspiciously, but followed up the stairs, and down a hall to a large bedroom. There was a round bed in the centre, on a low platform, with a pale white bedspread atop it. It was evident the bed was to be the centre of a scene, for lights were focused upon it, and a man she did not know stood behind a tripod mounted camera.

"This is Mr. Simmons. He takes pictures for Mr. Deveraux," Janine said. "He's worked for a number of magazines, such as Playboy and Penthouse. He will be taking some pictures of you."

Shawn eyed him with distaste, already looking around nervously.

"What kind of pictures?" she asked warily.

Janine smiled. "Oh surely you can guess."

"No."

"Mr. Deveraux reminds you that he seeks absolute certainty that you will not cause trouble by refusing orders in what you hope will be your new staring role. Pictures will help to ascertain that if you break your contract, well, you'll have a great deal of difficulty finding work elsewhere."

"You mean he intends to blackmail me!?" she demanded.

Janine gave her a wide, innocent look. "Nudity is not unfamiliar to you," she said. "You have appeared semi nude in at least one movie, and pictures of you semi nude have appeared in magazines before. Now please remove your clothing and cooperate with Mr. Simmons."

There was an unspoken "or else" attached to that order, and for long moments Shawn pondered it. But she had already gone too far, endured too much, to give up merely because Deveraux would have a few nudie shots of her. There were plenty of those on the internet, after all.

So she undressed, blushing only a little, staring at the two defiantly as she stripped to her lingerie. She was not surprised when the cameraman started taking pictures, nor when he directed her onto the bed after she had stripped completely.

At first the pictures were artsy, the kind she would have seen in the likes of Playboy, showing off her body skillfully and erotically. But after some minutes the shots got progressively more graphic, only a little with each, but having consented to one, it just seemed easy to bend just a bit more, and then just a bit more.

First it was just with her legs spread, then her hand posed suggestively against her pussy, then her fingers, then her fingers lightly laying along her bare little slit, then pressing against it, then spreading her sex lips just slightly, then slightly more. She shuddered with embarrassment as she was convinced to slide them into her pussy to the knuckles while the camera snapped.

And it was only a little worse to use a dildo, to be pictured in various positions with the big black dildo half buried in her pussy, then in her anus, then both, as she held another between her lips.

When the Black woman came into the room she froze, but she had already gone too far down the path. And the truth was that despite her embarrassment and discomfort, she was getting turned on by the wicked, forbidden pictures. Laying back with her legs spread and dildos sticking out of her pussy and anus as a strange man snapped pictures gave her a wild, exhibitionist thrill.

The woman was younger than her, with skin as dark as coal, but glistening. She had no hair, but a voluptuous body, and she stripped off a dressing gown and slid into bed next to Shawn without a word. Shawn stared at her, transfixed, pulse racing, wanting to flee, but excited.

And then the pictures snapped again, and the woman pressed against her, her dark black breasts against Shawn's tanned white ones. Her black arms slid around Shawn and their lips met, and the camera snapped and snapped as she began to grind herself against Shawn's body, her hands caressing her soft skin, kneading her breasts.

Three long, black fingers slipped inside her, and Shawn moaned helplessly, while the camera continued to snap. She hardly noticed the video camera being set up and turned on as she began to feel her already throbbing sex respond to the Black woman, and returned her kisses with growing passion.

The woman licked her way up and down Shawn's body, and when her long, pink tongue slid up her slit Shawn shuddered and moaned low in her throat, arching her back and sliding her hands onto the woman's shaved head. Soon her hips were rolling and grinding, then bucking up with growing passion and excitement. She gasped and moaned and cursed softly, her face a mask of passion and sex.

Her climax was long and loud and vocal, as she yanked on the woman's head and cried out in passion and pleasure.

She wasn't sure where the second Black woman came from. She was a virtual twin of the first, and then both were sucking strongly on Shawn's engorged nipples, their hands roaming her body, squeezing and kneading her buttocks, fingering her pussy, pushing against her wrinkled anal opening.

Shawn didn't care about the cameras. She cared only for the wild thrill of sex heat engulfing her as the two women roused her to ever greater heights of lust and pleasure. Then one split her legs, scissoring her own between, grinding her own shaven sex against Shawn's mons as the second gripped her hair roughly, bent her head back, and knelt over her, grinding her pussy into her face.

Shawn licked enthusiastically, moaning and sucking as the cameras moved in and out in close-ups, the microphones recording her passion and lust filled curses and cries as she climaxed again and the two Black women rode her through their own orgasms.

And then the cameras continued to watch dispassionately as the two Black women turned her, pulled her wrists up behind her back, and placed leather restraints around her wrists. They watched as a collar went around Shawn's throat, a collar which was attached to a long, thick black strap which dropped down her back. There was a ring set into that strap, and her wrists were pulled up and placed against it, and snapped into place.

The cameras watched her make no objection, watched her excitement as the Black women continued to ride her body and face, then as they pulled her out of bed and made her kneel before them and perform orally on first one, then the other. The cameras watched her flushed face glisten with their cream, and they watched as the Black woman slapped her bottom and tugged on her hair, forcing her to perform - though clearly no force was required.

And then they went away, and Simmons packed up his cameras and followed.

Janine smiled down at her as Shawn knelt tiredly.

It will be very difficult, after this, for you to claim to anyone that what you did here was against your will, or that you were less than a happy participant, or that you didn't know cameras were present."

"Fuck off," Shawn said wearily.

"A southern girl like you - it must be strange having sex with Blacks," Janine said with a smirk.

Shawn raised her head a little, and glared defiantly at her.

"Just imagine what would happen if those videos and pictures found their way onto the internet," Janine said.

"Is that it? You're just going to use them as blackmail?" Shawn sniffed.

Janine shook her head. "No, I'm sure that Mr. Deveraux will also use them to entertain some of his closer friends in future."

Shawn paled.

"It's not like he's going to use common, ordinary pornography, not when he has some of Hollywood's top actresses to perform in videos for him."

"Can I go now?"

Janine shook her head again. "We're just beginning, Miss Donnelly. I'm to prepare you for Mr. Deveraux," she said.

"I want to see Bernie," she said coldly.

Janine smiled. "Mr. Deveraux said to remind you along with instilling discipline in you he was teaching you to obey the wishes and orders of those who work for him. If you refused to obey me in something simple, how can he be confident you will obey one of his directors or producers?"

Shawn glared at the girl.

"Fine!"

The blonde produced a thin Y-shaped chain, and clipped it to Shawn's nipple rings, then tugged on it as she forced her to her feet, then led her across the room.

"This way please."

Shawn gasped and hurried after as her nipples were tugged hard. The girl led her into a large bathroom, and over to a counter. She pulled the chain forward across the counter, and Shawn was forced against it, bending forward as the girl attached the other end of the chain to a low hook placed in the wall.

The girl then spread her legs apart so that Shawn was forced onto the balls of her feet and locked them in place.

"Wh-where is Deveraux?" Shawn demanded, her lower belly grinding into the edge of the counter.

"Downstairs. You'll see him soon."

The girl wheeled over a thin metal stand and Shawn gasped as she saw the large rubber bag and hose dangling from it.

"What are you doing!?"

"Don't worry about it, Miss Donnelly," Janine said, pulling down the hose and bending behind her.

"Don't! Fuck! Stop it!" she cried, squirming to no avail.

The blonde ignored her, and forced the hose up into her anus.

She was twisting her head from side to side in disbelief, anger, and humiliation.

"Don't' you fucking dare!" she cried, her voice rising higher.

"If you keep making noise I'll be forced to gag you early, Miss Donnelly," Janine said quietly.

"Fuck you, you fucking whore bitch! Untie me right now! I am not doing this!"

Instead the blonde turned to the big rubber bag, and twisted a nozzle at its base. Shawn gasped as she felt the hot water gushing into her rectum and snarled furiously at the blonde girl as she turned and left the room.

When the blonde returned it was with a leather strap or collar of some kind. Being bent over and held in place limited Shawn's ability to see behind her. She felt the girl at her back, then cried out in pain as she yanked her head up and back by the hair. As she held her head back and Shawn fought not to pull her nipples too terribly against the rings the girl shoved something hard into her open mouth.

It was not a gag as she'd thought, at first. Yet it was hard and hollow, and held her jaw wide. The blonde pulled the straps back around her head, combing her hair out of the way first, then buckled them together behind her. Shawn stared at herself in the mirror above the counter and saw that the thing in her mouth was a hollow black metal ring thing which forced her mouth obscenely wide.

It didn't take very much imagination why a man would want to do that.

Then the girl produced a fat double-headed dildo, and thrust it through the hole. It slid across Shawn's tongue and threatened to gag her as the blonde pushed it deeper. Then the girl, ignoring her pitiful attempts to pull free, snapped it into place. A good ten inches remained outside Shawn's mouth, sticking out lewdly as she stared along its length.









Four



With Shawn gagged, the blonde examined the bag, squeezing it several times to force the water deeper into the actress' bowels.

"You be a good little girl and we'll be done in no time," Janine said soothingly.

Shawn snarled furiously. She was not a good little girl! She was older than the blonde slut, richer, more successful in every way. She hated being looked down at, especially by women, especially women who were inferior to her in every way but height!

Her wrists continued to pull and twist against the straps behind her, but they were securely fastened, and she succeeded in doing nothing but bruise and abrade her soft skin.

She groaned as the girl squeezed the bag again, and water gushed more strongly up into her rectum. How humiliating! How mortifying! Being given an enema!

"There, there," the girl said soothingly, patting her bare bottom. "We're just cleaning you out for Mr. Deveraux."

When the bag was empty she did something that disengaged the hose while leaving a plug in place.

"You just wait and I'll be back in a few minutes," she said.

Shawn burned and fumed, her face red, her belly overheated by the hot soapy liquid inside her. She was beginning to feel cramps as well, and those cramps got worse with every passing minute.

"Well hi there, Shawn."

Shawn froze, her very heart stopping. There was no mistaking that voice. She cringed in horror as the girl walked up behind her and leaned over to smirk at her.

Kelly Moore had been her co-star through three tumultuous years on her previous show, and the two had been intense rivals for screen time, for the best outfits, for the best story lines, camera angles, and everything else. At the very start, both being highly sexed and bisexual, they had also been casual lovers.

Kelly was dressed in a leather mini dress which zipped up the front, and revealed substantial cleavage. Her short brown hair and bangs framed a pixie cute face which gave the lie to the ruthlessness with which she had conducted her career. Like Shawn, she was one of the few child stars who had made it as an adult. She was short, slender, and athletic, and she was now the star of the show which should have been Shawn's.

Shawn hated her! She despised her! She wanted to claw her eyes out!

"How are we feeling, dear?" Kelly asked sweetly, reaching down to rub at her belly. "Do we need to use the facilities?

She pushed her flat hand in hard against Shawn's abdomen, and Shawn groaned in pain as the cramps clawed at her insides.

"Bernie called me the other day and made me an offer," she said. "All I had to do was make you prove you couldn't obey orders." She laughed. "Like that's a challenge! Anyway, I win either way. Either you do what you're told, in which case I get to play with you, or you don't, in which case you'll continue to age badly as a washed-up old has- been."

She pushed in harder against Shawn's belly, pushed in repeatedly as she smiled cruelly at her former cast mate.

"I'm going to have such fun with you, Shawn dear," she said.

She stood back and slapped her bottom hard enough to make Shawn squeal and lurch forward.

"Now let's get you onto the toilet, shall we, so Bernie can shove his cock up your tight little ass."

She removed the chains from Shawn's nipple rings, then bent and unclipped her ankle restraints. Shawn tried to kick at her but Kelly yanked her hair back so hard she stumbled and fell to her knees.

"Are we being a bad girl?" Kelly asked coyly. "Because if you're disobedient then I win and Bernie doesn't have to give you that part you want."

Shawn glared hatefully at her and Kelly straightened, then pulled on her hair, forcing her to her feet. She frog marched her to the toilet and shoved her down hard on it, then grinned down at her. "I bet this is just humiliating," she said. "But I'm sure it'll get worse."

She reached between Shawn's legs and Shawn felt her fingers at the plug. She clamped down with her sphincter muscles as Kelly yanked the plug free and straightened.

"How long do you think you can hold it, Shawn?" Kelly asked. "I bet the cramps start to hurt something fierce."

And they were hurting. It had been bad enough with the plug in place, but now Shawn was desperately trying to clench her muscles to keep from expelling the contents of her bowels in front of her fiercest rival. The mere thought was so horrifying that it leant her strength, and she bore down on her sphincter, determined not to give the other girl the satisfaction.

"That's okay. I can wait," Kelly said.

Her hands went to the zipper down the front of her dress, and she slowly pulled it down all the way to the hem. The dress parted, and Kelly shrugged it over her shoulders and off. Nude now save for leather boots, she stepped forward, straddling the toilet, gripping Shawn's hair and forcing her head back over the back of the toilet tank.

She gripped the front of the dildo protruding from between Shawn's lips and eased forward, standing on her toes, grunting with effort as she slightly bent the plastic cock and fit it against her pussy. Then she slid forward - and down.

"Oh yeah!" she groaned, as the plastic cock slid into her body. "Oh yeah! That feels so good!"

She slid down and jammed her pussy against the base of the dildo, against Shawn's mouth. Her swollen clitoris was pushed in against Shawn's nostrils and she grinned down at her.

"I'm gonna come on your face, sweety," she said. "It'll be just like old times."

She began to ride up and down the dildo, jamming and grinding her sex against Shawn's face as she bounced harder and faster, grunting and yelling with exaggerated pleasure.

"Keep holding it in, Shawn," she panted.

She reached down and jammed her fist into Shawn's abdomen, grinding the knuckles in place as she rode her pussy slowly up and down the dildo.

"Show us how strong willed you are, honey," she panted, punching at Shawn's belly again, making Shawn cry out as cramps tore through her.

Her belly ached and burned with the desperate need to release the contents, and each time Kelly jammed her knuckles in she felt an agony of cramping tear through her.

Kelly slid up and turned around, then backed against Shawn, fitting the tip of the dildo against her pussy, then sliding back down. Now her buttocks were crushed against Shawn's face as she thrust back and down again and again.

"Yeah, baby, baby!" she shouted. "Yeah, yeah!"

She slapped at Shawn's belly repeatedly, then at her breasts. She dug her small fingers into the soft flesh, squeezed, and twisted so that Shawn screamed into the gag. Then she slapped a hard hand into her abdomen.

It was too much, and Shawn's sphincter released, the contents of her bowels spewing explosively down into the toilet bowl as Kelly rode her face.

Kelly slid off her, holding her nose.

"Ewe! Ewe! Ewe!" she said dramatically, waving her hand before her face. "What a smell! I always knew you were full of shit, Shawn!"

She laughed out loud and hurried from the room, leaving Shawn gasping hopelessly, tears of shame and rage filling her eyes now as liquid continued to trickle from her anus.

The blonde girl returned, and shoved the plug, then sprayed air freshener and left again. From time to time cramps ripped through Shawn's belly, and then more liquid would gush out. She sat moaning, miserable, mortified, blinking her eyes against the savage blow to her pride and dignity.

The blonde returned, wiped her dry, then started the process again. Shawn, slightly dazed, moaned, but did not resist as the blonde put her on her knees, bent her so that her face was to the floor, and shoved the nozzle down into her anus a second time. More hot water gushed into her, filling her bowels as she knelt, numb.

Back on the toilet again, the soapy water gushed out once more. Janine then cleaned her off and slid a fat dildo into her anus, clipping it to the strap running down her back. She then attached a thin chain to the clit ring dangling between Shawn's legs, and used it as a leash to lead her out of the room, down the hall, and down the stairs.

She was led naked into a huge living room, and up to where Deveraux and Kelly sat back comfortably on an antique sofa. Kelly had dressed again, and Deveraux was comfortably dressed, as well. Only Shawn was nude, and she dropped her chin, shamed, as the blonde forced her to her knees on the rug before them.

"Hey, Shawn, how you doing?" Kelly asked sweetly. "Not so full of shit any more?"

She laughed in delight. Deveraux and Janine laughed as well, and Shawn cringed miserably under their ridicule. Naked and vulnerable, miserable, low, weak, she knelt and stared at the floor, wishing she could crawl through under the rug and disappear forever.

"Well, I can see he's found the proper part for you, at last," Kelly said, pointing at the enormous flat screen TV hanging on the wall.

Shawn's eyes rose only long enough to recognize that the video which had just been taken of her and the Black women was now playing. She felt a fresh flood of shame and dropped her chin again.

"At least you'll always have a career as a porn star," Kelly said. "Though you are getting on a little. Still, for curiosity sake, at least..."

She reached forward for the chain now and tugged it so that Shawn yelped and jerked forward on her knees. Once she was close enough Shawn grasped her hair and bent her forward.

"Your little porn video is making me hot, Shawn," she said.

She slouched low and spread her legs wide apart. The little leather skirt slid up easily to reveal her bare sex, and the woman pulled Shawn's face forward and guided the dildo protruding from her mouth into her pussy, then jammed it in, moaning theatrically as she forced Shawn's nose against her clitoris.

"Shawn Donnelly, the human dildo," Deveraux said with a smile.

And then Simmons was there with his video camera, panning it along Shawn's body, focusing in on Kelly's groin. No one's face would be in any of his shots except for Shawn, and the professional porn actors or prostitutes Deveraux hired to play with her.

Now Janine stripped and dropped to her knees behind her, donning a strap on dildo. She mounted her from behind, thrusting in enthusiastically as Kelly continued to yank her face down into her pussy, to mash her face in against her soft, moist flesh. Janine ran her hands up and down Shawn's body, roughly fondling and squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples.

There was nothing in the shot to indicate it was anything but a continuation of what she had already done all too obviously of her own free will.

Kelly was panting and moaning, her head rolling from side to side as she used Shawn's face as a dildo, pumping it up and down without pause. When she came she wrapped her legs around Shawn's head and crushed her face into her groin as she gurgled in pleasure, bucking and shaking.

"Such fun," she sighed, relaxing her hold as she slumped back.

"Janine, turn her around," Deveraux ordered.

Janine removed the big dildo from the strap she wore, pushing it so that it all but disappeared within Shawn's tight sex, then forced the now somewhat dazed young actress to turn and present her rear to the other two.

Kelly stood up, shrugging off her leather dress once more, flushed with excitement, and picked up the leather riding crop she had been so anticipating the use of.

"Push your ass up, slut," Kelly said, her eyes gleaming with cruelty as she stood up.

Shawn ignored her, but grunted as Janine adjusted her, slapping her bottom, raising it a little, then moving back.

"Now then, Shawn," Deveraux said. "Another test of how willing you are to obey orders. I want you to remain in that position with your bottom raised precisely so. I do not wish you to move for any reason. If you move, you fail the test."

Kelly made a mocking sound. "This slut has no discipline. All she cares about is herself, and she thinks she's too good to take anyone's orders. I'll get her to work, Bernie. Don't worry!"

To help her she had a riding crop, long, thin, and flexible, which she twisted in her hands as she placed it on Shawn's buttocks and let it slide back and forth. She smirked down at her soft, round bottom as she slid the crop between her thighs and stroked it up along the length of her bare slit.

"I do love an all-over tan, Shawn," she said.

The crop sliced down and in and Shawn's eyes bulged as it cracked against her bottom. She screamed into the gag, but the sound was, of course, heavily muffled. Her body jerked violently, but held its position as she gasped and gulped in air and fought not to let the tears filling her eyes spill out.

She hated them all! But she was absolutely not going to let that miserable, stinking bitch whore Kelly push her out of this role! She would rather die! She didn't care if the filthy bitch skinned her alive. She would never give in!

Her bottom was slender, saucy, and round, unblemished, with the softest of lightly tanned skin. Deveraux watched it, smiling, thinking of what a great little ass she had as he watched crop slash down across it. He watched the long line of red slowly darken across her buttocks, then a second, a third, a fifty and eighth and tenth, and felt his cock hardening at the power he held, at the excitement he felt at being able to so completely control the lovely young actress.

The sound of the crop striking Shawn's bottom echoed loudly in the otherwise quiet room, but the pain, sharp, cutting, terrible, echoed within her much more loudly. She could not help but scream, and was glad of the gag to keep her pain from being too obvious to her hated tormenter.

Again, and again, and again the crop sliced down and sharp, jagged pain tore through Shawn's bottom. The pain was awful, and the tears which filled her eyes began to spill out despite her best efforts. Kelly stood behind her and laughed at each blow, delighting in her ability to punish her old foe, sneering at her each time she brought the cruel crop cracking down across her buttocks.

The pain was driving Shawn insane. She was growing frantic with it. But she refused to give in, not to Kelly, and somehow she held on, despite the tears spilling from her eyes, despite the mounting pain as welt after welt rose across her aching, burning bottom.

"Enough," Deveraux said.

He undid his trousers and slid onto his knees behind where the trembling actress continued to kneel and moan.

"I'm going to use our little whore the way she was meant to be used," he said.

He drew out his fat, hungry cock and ran his hands over her welted bottom, then forced her knees further apart and pulled at the strap connected to the dildo plugging her anal opening. He pulled it free and fisted his cock as he stared at the soft, pink opening.

Then he pressed his cockhead against it and let it sink inside. Her sphincter had been tamed by the dildo, but it still resisted a little as he forced his cock deep into the shuddering young woman's belly. He felt it spasm around him as he sheathed himself, and felt, as well as heard her groan as his cock impaled her and her insides spasmed and sucked.

He began to pump almost at once, his hips working in and out, in and out, in long, even strokes, sodomizing her as the camera watched. Janine knelt and cleaned up her face with tissues, then Deveraux leaned forward, taking a thick length of hair and yanking Shawn's head up and back.

Janine placed her body before her, and guided the dildo into her pussy as Deveraux held her hair, holding her face up. Then the two shared her, his cock plunging deep into her anus again and again while Janine slowly ground herself against her face.

He rammed his cock deep into Shawn's anus, driving her slight body forward against Janine, so that it seemed to both of them as though he were fucking Janine too, as though his mighty cock had driven fully through Shawn's body and come out her mouth. They leaned in against each other and their tongues danced together as they rode the bound, helpless girl between them, using her body to sate their perverted lusts.

She lay on the floor afterwards, arms still bound, body slightly curled in, eyes closed, and as he looked down at her Deveraux felt a new sense of excitement. Just how far could he go with this girl, he wondered. Just what were the limits? Were there any limits at all? What might he do to her and get away with it. Clearly much. He had enough blackmail material to make her a laughingstock.

But that still allowed her to make a conscious choice about whether to do as he told, or whether to sacrifice her career by telling him no. She was still wealthy, after all, and if she restrained her expensive tastes could live nicely.

He considered how to ensure that she would be unable to even consider saying no. How could he break her so completely that she had no will left whatever, so break her that she would do what he told her without ever thinking about denying him - anyone.

She was famous, true, but she had been out of the mainstream for some time, and was not overburdened by close friends. What could he do to this little bitch!?

One trained bitches at obedience school, he mused. Was there, somewhere, an obedience school for bitches with two legs? Should there not be? With the head teacher? That was a little beneath him, of course. But what fun it would be! He would utterly humiliate her, so shame her that her pride broke. And then he would break her mind.

He felt his cock twitch at the thought. Kelly and Janine were somewhat sadistic bitches, but were they reliable enough? He held Kelly's career in his hands, too, or rather, in the pictures and videos he had of her. But could she be trusted for this kind of thing? Would her dislike of Shawn cause her to cooperate in what would become, essentially, highly illegal mistreatment of the helpless actress?

He rather thought it would. She had a cruel streak in her, and she really hated Shawn. She might not cooperate with someone else, but with Shawn - yes. And perhaps after he was done beating obedience into Shawn he'd put Kelly through the same course.

And Janine, of course.

The thrill of power coursed through his veins and his cock began to harden once more.

He nudged her with his foot, jamming it into her soft abdomen until her eyes opened.

"Do you know how to dance, bitch?" he asked with a smile.

"Like a cow, Kelly sniffed.

"I'm sure you can teach her then, Kelly," Deveraux said.

"To dance?" the other girl looked at him quizzically.

"To strip."

Kelly grinned broadly. "Shawn Donnelly, stripper," she jeered at the girl lying on the floor before her. "I can teach the whore that much."

And so Shawn was untied, the dildo gag finally removed from her mouth. Her bottom flared hotly with pain, and she was sullen and shamed as Deveraux and the other two women insisted on her dancing.

There were plenty of sexy clothes upstairs, and despite her shame her competitive spirit began to rouse as Kelly taunted her with her own smooth, lithe, erotic dance. She began to roll her hips, as well, competing with the other girl, grinding and undulating to the music as Kelly taunted her and Deveraux looked on.

She glared at him, but not for long, for his eyes were menacing, and she found it difficult to meet them, turning her face away instead, her half nude body writhing in time to the music.

Surely she had done almost everything he could want of her now? Surely he had enough obscene blackmail material that to act up on his new show would condemn her to a scandal enforced retirement? Surely once this night was over she could relax once more and look forward to her new income and new notoriety as the beautiful and glamorous star of her own show?

What else could he want of her?











Five



Shawn was starting to feel a little relaxed. Her bottom still ached a little, but she was pretty sure the worst was over, and Deveraux had more than enough on her to keep her in line, if that was his fear, and to hire her to play the role she wanted.

The humiliation would be worth if so long as she got that part. Her only real nagging fear was that despite all she had gone through he would not hire her, that he had never intended to hire her, that it had all been one sadistic joke. And what could she do if it were? He owned her career. And that scared her a little. She didn't like any man having so much power over her, especially that man. But the risk was one she'd had no real choice of running.

At least, it had seemed so at the time.

No, damnit, she knew that was wrong. If she'd known what she would have to go through, what damning material she would have to let Deveraux have, she never would have agreed. She'd never have even showed up at his office. No role was worth that.

Too late now, though, she thought. Water under the bridge.

She was sitting back on her leather sofa in her living room, her legs propped along the sofa as she flicked through TV. She had a rum and coke on the table next to her and was relaxing, wearing a light white silk blouse and loose white slacks. She wondered idly if she were trying to reassure herself of her purity after the filthy things she'd gone through with Deveraux - and that bitch whore Kelly.

Her dark hair gleamed, perfectly combed as it danced around her shoulders. She felt human again, and took a sip from the glass as she flicked the channel again and tried to forget.

The buzzer caught her attention and she frowned and pointed the control box at the TV. She switched to the camera mounted above the gate, and frowned at a strange SUV stopped there, and a blonde woman leaning out the window.

Pressing a button activated the intercom.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Miss Donnelly? I'm Heather Latoy. Mr. Deveraux sent me."

Shawn felt a little jolt of alarm and anxiety.

"He did? What for?" she asked warily.

"I'm supposed to teach you dancing for your upcoming role."

Shawn bit her lip, then pressed the button which opened the gate. Dancing? What kind of dancing did a private detective need to know? Or was it the kind of dancing Kelly and Janine and she had to do to please Deveraux? That bastard.

Going to see him had been the dumbest mistake of her life, she thought glumly. She took a final strong drink and got up, padding across the floor to the front door as the woman climbed out of her SUV and took a long package from the rear.

The woman was tall, good looking, and very athletic. She looked like a dancer, in her early forties, but still toned.

"Hi," Shawn said suspiciously.

The woman lugged the box past her. "Is there somewhere I can set this up?"

"Uh, what is it?"

"The strippers pole, of course," she said.

Shit!

"Uhm, anywhere I guess," she said.

"We need an open area, preferably with a wooden floor."

"The gym." Shawn shrugged and shook her head.

The gym had a polished hardwood floor, with several pieces of equipment along the walls. The woman nodded at the sight and dropped the box on the floor, then opened it. The stripper pole was just that. It was a six foot high pole. Though when the woman extended it the pole reached to the ceiling. There was a wheel halfway up which she used to tighten the lock, to push hard enough against the ceiling beam above and the floor below to hold the pole in place. Then she pulled the knob free, leaving a tiny hole.

"Excellent," she said, smiling. "Is there somewhere I can... ah?"

She didn't finish her question, but walked across to the stereo and slid in a CD before returning.

"Pants really aren't good for stripping," she said, eyeing Shawn. "They tend to trip you up and are awkward to take off."

Shawn sighed and led the woman upstairs, and then into her main closet. There she retrieved several short skirts and dresses. Shawn changed unhappily, and followed her back down the stairs, where the lessons began. Heather began, stripping to the music, moving, swaying, undulating, and swinging around the pole. She removed everything, down to the leotard she wore under bra and panties.

"Normally," Heather said. "We do this down to leotards, but Mr. Deveraux was quite insistent on you doing it in the nude. He said you had to learn how to move nude without being too self conscious."

Shawn snorted. I'll bet the bastard does.

She was an athletic woman with a strong sexual drive and a bit of an exhibitionist. Were it not for the fact Deveraux had sent the woman she probably would have been far more enthusiastic about the lessons. As it was she found herself interested enough to want to do well. She was a little embarrassed about stripping naked in front of the woman, but once she was naked she found herself getting into things more.

It was a little - weird - stripping for the strange woman, then twisting herself around the pole.

"Stripping is one thing, but then you have to dance naked. There is an art to dancing while naked, to moving while naked," Heather said. "You have to move with a fluidity, with a cat-like motion."

Sliding around the pole was kind of exciting, and Shawn proved to be a natural. She was even able to do the more difficult maneuver of an upside down twist, where she jumped up, grabbed the pole high up, wrapped her legs around it, then let herself fall back upside down, clinging to the pole with her ankles and thighs.

Heather taught her a couple of routines, and even played a DVD for her of herself on stage - she was a former stripper - doing several routines they practiced. Shawn actually found it all kind of exciting and fun - though tiring. By the time Heather was set to leave, Shawn was weary, sweating, and worn out. The ex stripper looked apologetically down at the shorter woman. "I'm to leave the pole here," she said.

Shawn nodded, but then blinked when she saw the woman take a pair of leather restraints from her bag. "And I'm to leave you standing against the pole," she said, blushing a bit. "Mr. Deveraux was quite specific."

Shawn flushed, her stomach feeling fluttery, but she nodded.

She stepped back, pressing herself against the pole, feeling it press up between her buttocks and along her back. She watched the somewhat embarrassed ex-stripper take a metal eye screw from her bag, reach up behind Shawn on the other side of the pole, and screw it in place. She then fitted the restraints around Shawn's wrists and pulled her hands up and back behind the bar, locking them in place high up.

And then she left. Shawn was left standing against the pole, her body stretched a little. She was not on her toes, but could not slump even the slightest, and her breasts were pulled taut against her ribs as she stared at the far wall and wondered what Deveraux - the bastard - had in mind now.

As it turned out, very little, at least not that day. For the light coming through the window dimmed, and then went out. The lights in the gym were not on, for there had been more than enough light coming through the big floor to ceiling windows. So that now Shawn stood tiredly in the darkness, cursing Deveraux and wondering if this had simply been a joke on her or if he'd forgotten whatever he'd intended.

Her back was stiff, her arms and legs cramped. She could lift her feet one after the other, bending them, groaning as she brought her bare feet up against her buttocks. But she could do little about her arms. Her stomach rumbled hungrily. She was thirsty, too. She had worked hard for some hours, and sweated a lot. She badly needed a drink.

More hours passed and she stood tiredly as the moon rose and glided slowly across the sky. She was tired, and her chin sank low as her eyes closed. But she could not, of course, fall asleep.

Fucking Deveraux! Fucking, fucking Deveraux!

The sky outside grew lighter, and the sun rose. Shawn yawned tiredly, her stomach rumbled again. The sun rose higher, and still there was nothing. From time to time Shawn twisted and looked up and back as her hands tried to pull free of the restraints, her fingers to ease them off the screw above. She never accomplished anything, however.

The sun disappeared overhead. She could tell from its light on the distant hedges it was almost noon. She was dead tired, her feet and legs aching, her back throbbing.

And then, finally, she heard the door opening and closing downstairs. Her head lifted up and she felt a surge of relief. Whatever the bastard wanted at least it would be better than standing around stiffly for hours on end. She turned her head to the door and waited, wondering it would be Deveraux, or Janine. She prayed it wouldn't be Kelly. And her stomach fluttered at the thought it might be someone completely new.

It was Deveraux, and he smiled at her. She glared back. "Do you know how long I've been here like this!?" she demanded.

"Your time is my time, slut," he said pleasantly.

He ran his hand firmly over her body, caressing her breasts, gliding along her trim belly, easing down her abdomen and in between her legs, his fingers rubbing more harshly along her bare slit.

"Don't you have anyone else to torture?" she asked weakly.

"I like torturing you, slut."

And then Kelly sauntered into the room, smirk in place, and Shawn stiffened and looked away.

"Hi, Shawn," Kelly said mockingly.

"Slut. Call her slut, nothing else," Deveraux said.

"As if she isn't a slut," Shawn spat at Kelly.

Kelly smirked, then slapped her face. Shawn gasped, her head thrown back by the blow, shocked at the sudden sharp pain which exploded against her cheek.

"You'll speak to me with respect, slut," Kelly said.

"You fucking bitch!" Shawn screamed, kicking out at her.

Then Deveraux backhanded her on the other side of the face, and she was rocked sharply to the side, almost losing her balance, and momentarily hanging by her wrists.

"She is right. You will speak to her with respect," Deveraux growled. "You will do anything she says without question. Do you understand me, slut?"

"But she - ."

Another slap to the face rocked Shawn back, and she gasped, tasting blood.

"You will obey!" Deveraux snapped.

Shawn was silent, glaring at the smirking girl but doing nothing.

Deveraux smiled. "And Kelly will reward you for your good manners, won't you, Kelly?"

Kelly shrugged, as if rewarding Shawn was not something she took much pleasure in. Deveraux gestured, and Kelly gave a scowl, then dropped to her knees in front of Shawn, who stared down at her warily.

"Spread your legs, slut," Kelly snapped.

Deveraux glared and Shawn reluctantly complied, shifting her feet a little apart on the floor. Kelly forced them wider, forcing her up onto the balls of her feet, and Deveraux gripped her hair, yanking her head back, staring into her eyes as Kelly's tongue began to slid up and down against her inner thighs, her fingers easing her sex lips apart.

"Slut," Deveraux said. "You're going to be my slut, aren't you?"

He closed his big hand around Shawn's slender throat and squeezed firmly.

"You're going to be a good little slut and do exactly what you're told. You're going to be an obedient slut, whether it's me giving you the orders, or anyone else. Anyone. Do you understand, slut?"

He was squeezing too tightly for her to breathe, and Shawn's throat and chest began to burn, her head to pound. She tried to nod but his hand was too firmly around her throat, his fingers clutching her hair too tightly for her to move. He kept his hand firmly around her throat as the lack of air became more desperate, and she became more frantic.

She began to jerk and shake, beads of sweat breaking out no her forehead as her eyes bulged. She tried to twist her head from side to side, and tried to kick out at him. But Kelly had her thighs in a tight grip, her arms crooked around them as she pressed her face into her groin, and Shawn's world began to spin, dots dancing before her eyes.

Deveraux released her throat and she gulped in air, gasping for breath as he smiled down at her, his eyes boring into hers. "Tell me you'll be an obedient slut," he growled, tightening his grip a little.

"I-I will!" she gasped.

"You will what?"

"I-I'll be a - a good slut!"

"A good, obedient slut," he growled, tightening his grip hard, and holding it for long seconds. "Say it!"

"I-I'll be a good, obedient slut!" she panted.

"Again. Again!"

Shawn was forced to repeat it, to chant it, to scream it, until Deveraux finally chuckled and let his hand come free of her throat. He ran it up and down her body, kneading her breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples.

"You took off your rings. Never do that again," he said. "I want those rings to stay on you. Where are they?"

Shawn told him, and he left her there with Kelly, who continued to tongue her pussy. Shawn stared down at her, a little frightened now, for the first time. She said nothing as she watched her enemy plunging her long, talented tongue up into her pussy and felt the little hard ball of her tongue stud against the inside of her pink skin.

He returned with the rings, and slipped them into her nipples, then bent and pushed Kelly aside, placing the other in her clitoral hood. "So, you've been standing stiff for a while, eh? I guess you need a little exercise."

He reached behind her and easily unclipped her wrist restraints. Shawn groaned as her arms were finally allowed to drop. But he immediately pulled them together behind her back and clipped the restraints together once more. He led her over to one of her exercise machines, the treadmill, and Kelly produced the Y-shaped chain which hooked to her nipple rings.

They placed her on the treadmill, and turned it on, and Shawn was forced to walk, then trot to keep her nipples from being pulled against the rings.

"I'm hungry," Deveraux said. "Let's go see what's in the kitchen."

The two left her, and Shawn jogged on the treadmill, her tired, stiff legs working awkwardly, her breasts quivering and wobbling as she jogged. Her wrists pulled feebly against the restraints, and she turned her head behind her, wondering anxiously how long they would be.

She continued to jog, gasping now, her legs burning. She was quickly growing exhausted, sweat streaming down her body. Several times her weak legs failed to keep up until the sharp pull against her nipples leant her new energy.

Kelly sauntered back in then.

"Please! Kelly!" Shawn gasped. "Stop it!"

"Call me - mistress," Kelly said with a smirk.

"Please!" Shawn gasped. "I-I ca-can't r-run any - more!"

"Mistress," Kelly said in a purr.

"Mistress!" Shawn cried.

Kelly laughed. "Say, please may the slut stop running, Mistress."

"P-Please may the slut stop running, mistress!?" Shawn cried.

"Again."

"Please may the slut stop running mistress?" Shawn cried desperately, staggering and stumbling.

Kelly sighed and reached forward, turning off the machine, then undoing the chain. She tugged it back as Shawn staggered and then stumbled and fell to her knees, gasping for breath, red faced.

"I didn't say you could kneel before me, though it does seem appropriate," Kelly said.

She pulled on the chain and Shawn cried out as it stretched her nipples upwards, pulling against her breasts and forcing her back to her feet. Kelly pulled her hand higher, and higher, so that even standing up Shawn's nipples strained upwards.

"Please!" she cried.

"Please mistress," Kelly corrected her.

"Please, mistress!" Shawn cried.

"I don't know," Kelly said, as if considering. "I suppose Deveraux would be upset if I tore your little nipples off, though."

She eased her hand down, and Shawn, who had been forced onto her toes, sank gratefully back to her feet.

"Come on. Let's go see your master."

Using the chain as a leash, she pulled Shawn along out of the room and then down the stairs and into the dining room, where Deveraux sat eating a sandwich.

"Ah, how is our little slut doing?" he asked.

Kelly pushed Shawn against one of the chairs and forced her to bend over until her breasts pillowed out against the gleaming mahogany.

"She's ready to be fucked hard," Kelly said.

"When is she not?" Deveraux laughed.

Kelly gripped Shawn's hair and yanked it up and back, causing her to cry out in pain.

"Beg him to fuck you," she hissed, leaning in against her.

'P-Please fuck me!" Shawn cried.

"Not like that, you stupid whore!" Kelly said, slapping her bottom sharply. "Say please fuck your obedient little slut master."

"Please fuck your obedient little slut, master," Shawn gasped.

"Did you get her nice and wet for me, Kelly?"

Kelly made a face and then slid her fingers up and down Shawn's bare slit. It was wet, but more with sweat than sexual heat.

"She's all wet and ready," she purred.

Deveraux smiled and stood up. Kelly moved back as Deveraux stepped behind her.

"Why don't you fuck her up the ass again?" she suggested cruelly.

"I want her cunt at the moment."

He slapped her bottom sharply and then spread her legs as Shawn winced. She felt his cockhead sliding firmly up and down her sex, then pushing into her, spreading her open and sliding deeper.

There was no finesse to it. He drove himself into her to the hilt and then began to use her roughly and thoroughly, hammering his hips against her upturned buttocks, pounding his cock inside her belly as she gasped and grunted at the impact and force.

Kelly leaned over the table, smirking. "Stupid cunt," she said. "You're just his little fuck toy now. He can do anything he wants to you. The only movies you're ever going to do are pornos!"

The table and chair shuddered to the violence of his thrusting as he rode the gasping young woman. He yanked back on her hair to lift her chest and groped her breasts as he drove himself into her, then spewed and slowed, dropping her head, grinding his pelvis against her bottom, and finally pulling himself free.

He grinned down at her, then gripped a thick hank of hair in his big fist and yanked her head up and back, ignoring her cry of pain as he twisted her body, forcing her to arch her back.

"Would you like to come to a party, my dear?" he purred. "I'm sure you'll be a hit with all the better people."

There was a buzzing at the door, signaling someone else arriving. Kelly smoothed her skirt and went to answer. Deveraux pulled Shawn upright and then removed her restraints, turning her to stare into her eyes.

"Remember that this is a test of your obedience," he growled. "You pass this test and you'll get your role. You fail, and you'll be nothing but a trivia question. Whatever happened to Shawn Donnelly?"

Shawn blinked, swayed, gulped in air, not at all fully recovered yet from the hard, rough ride she'd just been given. Kelly returned, leading a strange man, and Shawn instinctively flinched back, trying to cover herself. Deveraux held her wrist, though, and tightened his grip, pulling sharply to hold it at her side.

"Ah, Mr. Roth. We've been waiting you. And here is your canvas, all prepared."

He was a little man, thin, with glasses and a pony tail. He smiled a bit nervously. "Lovely," he said, setting down a case.

"All you have to do, my dear, is stand still," Deveraux told her, eyes penetrating. "Do you think you can do that?"

Shawn's legs ached, but she nodded, her mind fuzzy as she watched the skinny man open his case and pull out a set of paint brushes and paints. She wondered what he was going to paint. Then he moved in front of her, gazed at her face, and leaned in, holding a paintbrush in hand. She blinked, startled, and drew back.

"Now don't move," he said.

And she froze as the brush caressed her forehead.

She stood still as the man's brush slid over her face again and again, missing no part of it. Her hair was drawn back and held tight as the brush slid over her ears, then down her throat and began on her chest. Deveraux and Kelly looked on with interest as the man painted her chest and back. Looking down, Shawn could see the colour, at least, was a brownish orange, with darker lines and stripes, and lighter coloured brush strokes.

The other two sat down, but Shawn had to stay standing, her legs aching and stiff, as the man painted down the length of her body. She flushed a little as he asked he to spread her legs, then licked her lips as his brush slid along the edges of her slit, painting her sex lips in white, then spreading the white up and out over her groin. She supposed that was some kind of fake bikini.

It took him some time to finish. Shawn had heard and seen examples of body painting before, and assumed she was being made into a cat or something.

"Okay," he said finally, looking at her dubiously. "Exactly as you wanted, sir."

"Perfect," Deveraux said with a smile.

Kelly saw the man out while Deveraux produced a pair of thick metal shackles and locked them around her wrists. They were locked together by an actual chain, three links long, and then pulled up high behind her back as he fitted a heavy metal collar around her throat and locked them to its rear.

He led her across the room and into the hall, where there was a full length mirror, and Shawn stared at herself.

Her face was cut into four squares in alternating colours of orange and white. Each square had a word written in it in black. Cunt, and Whore were in the top two squares. Slut and Bitch in the two lower squares.

The squares were broken up by her mouth, which was painted in dark red, the same colour which extended in a thick round circle all around her mouth. An arrow was painted on her chin, pointing towards the circle. Two more arrows were painted diagonally on her cheeks, also pointed at her mouth.

Her body was painted in orange, but there was a large white heart over her sex, the lips outlined in red. The word Fuck was written on her abdomen, with a black arrow pointed at the heart. Her breasts were also painted in white and Tit was written on both of them. Her nipples were painted red, and the word Bite was written beneath each, with arrows pointed at them.

He turned her around and the dazed young woman saw that words were written down her back. They were Whip me, Fuck me, Beat me, Rape me. Also, on her buttocks, were written the phrases Stick cock here, with arrows pointed down towards her red painted anal opening.

Shawn stared at herself in disbelief, anger, indignation, and humiliation, and turned to attack Deveraux, but he gripped her hair and yanked her head back painfully, turning her back towards the mirror, and forestalling her complaints. "What you need to bear in mind, slut, is that the way your face is painted makes it extremely difficult for anyone to recognize you. That will be particularly true in a darkened room. Unless you open your mouth, of course. Your voice is distinctive and easily recognized."

He shoved a round gag into her mouth, then, and pulled the strap behind her head.

"This should make it even harder for anyone to recognize you," he said with a smile.

A butt plug was shoved into her bottom, and then a dildo forced deep into her sex, the bottom clipped to her clit ring.

"You're going to put on a good show for everyone tonight, Shawn," Deveraux, "Or you won't be putting on shows for anyone ever again."

There was little opportunity for Shawn to argue, especially as a chain was attached to her clit ring, and they led her across the room and outside to where his car waited. Wide eyed, Shawn was led into the back seat, and forced to sit between Deveraux and Kelly as the blank faced chauffeur pulled away and headed for the open gate.

"You won't get a chance to strip, but you will be able to practice the nude dancing you were shown today," Deveraux said. "There'll be a pole, and a lot of people watching, so I trust you'll remember how to move properly."

Shawn's eyes remained wide, her mind screaming, her body trembling as she realized his full intent. She was going to be put on display in front of a number of people, possibly a lot of people, with this horrible body paint on, and would have to do a lewd bump and grind show for them.

What if someone recognized her!? What if there were cameras?!

She shook her head frantically at him but he only smiled. "You have no choice, slut," he said. "You can do as you're told and obey me, as you promised, or put up a fight and lose the part. And maybe in all the fuss someone will recognize you, hmm? Wouldn't that be a big bonus for the tabloids!?"

When the car stopped Kelly slid out. She was still wearing the leather dress, but now she'd put on a black half mask, as well, to cover her face. Deveraux had donned a lone major type of mask. Shawn, of course, had nothing to cover her but the body paint, and could hardly resist as Kelly pulled on the chain and she was forced, by pain, to wriggle quickly out of the car and after her.

She tried to slow, but pain drove her forward, tried to shake her head wildly, but was ignored, and then they were inside a dimly lit room with raucous music playing and people everywhere.

There were dozens of them, scores of people, perhaps more than a hundred, and Shawn went still, gasping, stunned, as she was led through them and all those eyes moved up and down her body, sneers and leers and laughter on their faces and lips. Her face was burning, but of course, no one could see. She followed Kelly, stiff, quivering, full of disbelief, mortified at all those male and female eyes leering and laughing at her nude, painted body.

Others there were dressed in leather and chains, and there were a number of female bodies partially exposed. A lot of breasts were bared, and there were a lot of very, tight leather shorts and thongs. A few other men and women were in bondage, one man even hanging by his wrists, wearing nothing but a tiny little G-string. It was some kind of perverted bondage party, she thought frantically, and so she was not considered terribly out of place. Yet she was the only one completely naked, the only one painted.

Deveraux yanked her in close. "Remember, there are those who will recognize your voice. There are others who will summon the authorities if they suspect you aren't here willingly."

And with that he removed her gag as she was led out of the crowd and into an area where round tables had been set up, and men and women sat around them, drinking and talking. Here too she was the focus of attention, and her face continued to burn as she saw peoples head turn, fingers pointed her way.

A fat man with heavy jowls greeted them, hugging Deveraux. "Bernie! You've outdone yourself!" he said, staring at Shawn with interest.

"Oh this?" Deveraux said modestly. "It's nothing. Merely a visual portrayal of her true personality."

"Then she must be an interesting little - slut," the man said with a sly grin. "Come sit down."

Nearly swooning with the shock and shame, Shawn was forced to shuffle after them as the man led them to a table. There, Deveraux and Kelly sat, while Shawn was forced to kneel beside Deveraux's chair, her knees spread wide, facing the room. She prayed no one would recognize her, that no one knew who was beneath the face paint.

The others had drinks, but she was given nothing, and too afraid to ask. Everyone who walked past stared at her. The people at nearby tables stared at her. She wanted to close her legs, but every time she did Deveraux tugged on the chain, and she gasped in pain and jerked them apart once more.

Was it possible to get used to everything? She supposed it must be. Gradually her humiliation faded into discomfort, and her face stopped burning so intensely, even when new people walked past, and stopped, startled, to stare at her, point, and laugh.

The party was just starting, however, and as time passed and more alcohol was consumed inhibitions faded. There was more nudity, and sexual groping and fondling. At first Shawn welcomed it, for it drew attention away from her. It also provided her with some comfort. Until, of course, she was forced to engage in sex herself.











Six



She had started to get used to her public nudity, to the rude comments made about her to Deveraux. It didn't even bother her when a young drunken man stopped before her and looked down to say "So do we get to fuck this slut?"

But when Deveraux tugged on her chain to get her attention, and pointed to the fat man, who had pushed his chair back from the table, she felt a tightness in her chest.

"Show Jeff what your mouth is good for, slut," he ordered.

He handed the fat man the chain, as the man undid his zipper, and Shawn froze, her mind screaming in rebellion again. Yet the fat man grinned jovially and tugged on the chain, forcing Shawn to scurry over on her knees. He grinned and gripped her soft hair, then pulled her face down against his cock as he pulled it free.

She was still trying to decide what to do when it slipped into her mouth, and there was really little or nothing she could do at that point. She began to suck and lick at him, burning once more as people at nearby tables turned to watch this new show.

At first she was too stunned to do much, as the man held her hair bunched at the top of her head and worked her mouth up and down on his shaft. Then she gave in and began to suck, licking at the head, drawing her cheeks in as his hand reached down and groped her bare breasts.

And then, as if a wall cracked and tumbled, her inhibitions seemed to melt away and a kind of devil may care sexual excitement started to rouse within her. Fuck it, she thought wearily. She had a great body, and they all wanted her, and if she was painted as a whore, well, there was something dark and kinky and exciting about flaunting herself as a naked whore before so many strangers.

She had never been the modest type anyway.

She ran her lips up and down, up and down, sucking each time she withdrew, and then, defiantly, forced herself all the way down, taking his cock deep into her throat. She felt electric as she did it, proud, brave, wicked, slutty, knowing there were any number of people watching.

Her face was jammed into his groin as he groined and clasped her head. She did not see anyone, but felt hands on her hips, on her thighs, jerking them apart. A dizzying wave of shock rolled over her, part fear, part shame, part wild anticipation, as she realized someone was going to do her right there, right in front of everyone.

She felt the cock sliding along the edges of her sex, around the dildo which stuck out there, felt fingers unclasping the small chain, and then pulling the dildo back. She grunted as it was thrust in once more, pulled back, and thrust in hard enough to hurt. She felt wild, impossibly sluttish, and despite the pain and shame her inner heat grew, the sexual tension becoming a wild, crackling demon.

The dildo pulled free, and someone slid his cock into her, then began to ride her, his hips slapping against her buttocks as he and the fat man groped at her breasts. How many were watching, she wondered dazedly. How many were looking?

Up and down, up and down, her lips bobbed, as her body was jarred by the impact of the man riding her. She sensed people moving closer around her, stopping, standing, looking down, and moaned around the cock as she took it down her throat once more.

The man groaned. "This little whore knows how to suck a cock!" he gasped.

"It's her one skill," Deveraux said.

He came in her mouth, and Shawn swallowed it easily, most of it spilling while his cockhead was still down her throat. His cock softened and withdrew, but she remained bent over, his hand in her hair as the man behind continued to thrust into her.

She felt the man's grip tighten on her thighs as he came, jamming himself into her to the hilt and spilling his seed. And then Deveraux reached down, unclipping the narrow chain which was attached to her clit ring, snapping it to her collar instead. He then undid the chain locking her wrist shackles together, freeing her.

But a harsh shove on the back of her head forced her back down to all fours, and then he was on his feet, and leading her. Shawn felt another wild shockwave of shame and heat as she realized he intended to force he to crawl right there, nude, in the midst of them all. Dazed, she stumbled forward, crawling along on the floor, being walked like a dog.

He led her through and past people, and over to another table.

"Would anyone like a little demonstration of my slut's talent?" he asked greasily.

There was laughter, but excited laughter, and the first man pushed his chair back and undid his zipper. Deveraux pulled her in between his legs, and now, with her hands free, Shawn reached for his cock as it came out, squeezing and rubbing it as she slid her lips down around it and began to suck.

Madness! It was insane! It was impossible! She felt as though she were riding a whirlwind as she mouthed the man, as her lips bobbed up and down. There was a woman in the next chair, smirking down at her, watching her as Shawn took him down her throat.

And then the next man at the table, and the next, and the other people at the table were trying to persuade one of the women, and finally did, a fortiesh blonde with big breasts, who lifted her legs and pulled up her short leather skirt.

Another little shockwave hit Shawn, stunning her lightly as she pulled aside the woman's G-string and began to tongue her pussy. Behind her, someone else was settling into place, and she was mounted again, a cock plunging deep into her belly.

For the next hour he led her around the room, and she performed oral sex on a dozen men and women. And then, incredibly, it was up onto a low round wooden stage painted in white, with brighter lights overhead, and she was dancing, strutting, swaying to the music, grinding her hips at the scores of people looking on.

And when Deveraux tossed a thick dildo to her she felt another hammer blow against her mind, against all that told her what she was, and how she should behave. She stared at it as if transfixed, then with a sigh of submission, she began to lick at it, then slide it over her body. She lay back; spreading her legs, and ran the head up and down her slit before slowly working it into her pussy.

The heat threatened to overwhelm her, and Shawn groaned and writhed, pumping the dildo inside her pussy as she squeezed her breast and felt the stormwave howling upwards along her spine. She had already had several small climaxes, but now she fell over the precipice, crying out in helpless pleasure as she came, hips bucking up wildly as she tried to bury every last inch of the dildo.

All her inhibitions seemed to have collapsed, and as she lay exhausted on the stage, she paid almost no attention to the men who began to approach. The first rolled her over onto her belly, then yanked her hips upwards. Shawn moaned as he plunged into her, knowing the entire room was watching as she was fucked.

His finger probed at her anus, pushing in, twisting in and out, and then he pulled out of her pussy as another man knelt before her. She groaned around the cock which pushed into her mouth as she felt the other driving up into her anus.

It was a wild, impossible fantasy and nightmare come to life, and Shawn stared, eyes glazed, at the man's pelvis as it pushed forward until it blocked the world, his cock going down her throat.

For more than an hour men, one by one, or in twos and threes, came up onto the stage and used the dazed, moaning young woman. And then a tall, blonde woman in leather walked the three steps onto the stage and glared down at her. The woman had along, thin riding crop in her hand, and she snapped it down across Shawn's bottom as she lay on her belly, gasping.

"Get onto all fours, you bitch dog," she growled.

Shawn gasped in pain, scrambling onto hands and knees.

"Spread your legs, whore. Now reach back and show them your pussy. Open up that cunt!"

Shawn trembled, but reached between her legs, fingering her pussy, spreading her sex lips open with her fingers.

"Take that dildo. Fuck yourself, you whore!"

Shawn's fingers closed on the dildo, and she slid it back between her legs and pushed it into her dripping sex. There were people on three sides of the stage, but it was the thought of the ones behind her which really roused her as she pumped the dildo inside herself.

She was made to crawl around the little stage with the dildo half sticking out of her pussy, then to lick at the woman's stiletto heeled boots. The woman fastened heavy leather restraints around her ankles, then, and fastened them to chains which led up to a pair of tall posts which flanked the stage.

Shawn whimpered and moaned in confusion as her legs were lifted into the air and spread apart. Then her excitement mounted as her torso and head were also lifted, her feet rising higher until her entire body was hanging in mid air, legs spread far apart, her sex painfully open to everyone's gaze.

The woman chained her wrists down and apart, and then produced a vibrator, which she used to taunt her with, sliding it back and forth along her slit and over her clitoris until the audience could see how her hips were trying to jerk and grind.

The woman then knelt at her head, gripping her hair and wrapping it around her fist as she forced Shawn's head to pull up and back. Shawn stared at the long, black strap-on dildo the woman had donned, then gasped as it was thrust into her mouth and up her throat.

For a long minute the woman pumped slowly in and out, using the full, long length of the dildo, holding Shawn's head back by the hair. Then she thrust it in and undid the straps from around her hips. Instead she turned them around and wrapped them around Shawn's head, buckling them behind her so that the dildo remained locked in her throat.

Shawn could breath only with difficulty, moaning as her hair was released, the world swaying and swimming as she stared, upside down, at the crowd looking on appreciatively.

She could hardly believe how naked she was, how spread open and exposed. Her legs were wide, wide open, her groin painted white as the woman moved slowly around her. She moaned into the makeshift gag as the woman slid a vibrator up and down along her painted sex lips, rubbing it across her throbbing clitoris. Then it was thrust painfully deep, and the woman slapped the base with the palm of her hand.

Shawn cried out weakly, feeling as though she'd been punched deep in her stomach. The woman slapped at the base again, and then again, and now she cried out with greater strength, the pain finally penetrating the shadowy cloud of sexual steam and wild eyed disbelief which had settled around her mind.

The woman moved back, and now, Shawn saw something dangling from her hand, something long and loose and black. The woman swung it at her, and it seemed to spread out, and only an instant before it struck did Shawn get a brief glimpse of a half dozen or more long, thin black cords or thongs. Then they struck, cracking down across her taut belly with stinging pain, and Shawn's entire body shook as she screamed into the gag.

She felt a sense of stunned disbelief, a gaping wonderment and shocked understanding. It was a whip, a many thronged whip. Each of the slender leather strips was like the thin quirt Deveraux had used on her bottom that first day, though softer, thinner, lighter. The pain was sharp, yet probably less than she had felt before.

But there were more of them, six or seven or more, striking all at once across her belly. Being struck on the backside was one thing; painful, of course, but the idea that she would be whipped, and in front of all these people was - astonishing.

The woman paced around her, and the whip slashed in across her back. Again Shawn screamed, the half dozen strips of leather slashing across her like a cat's claws so that she writhed and twisted in her bonds, her head shaking from side to side. On her back now! That struck some chord deep inside her, the product of clichÈd romantic stories and fantasies.

Yet it hurt! It stung! And she writhed and twisted and pulled, gasping and moaning even as the whip swept around and cracked down across her belly and abdomen. Again she howled, her body bucking and twisting. She knew she could not escape, but it was almost impossible to keep still. She moaned and her eyes rolled, her head turning as she followed the woman who paced around her, waiting for the next blow. Her body stilled but for trembling, and then she tried to brace herself as she saw the whip fly again.

It cut across her back, and she screamed into the dildo gag, arching her back, twisting and pulling at the restraints. Her back was hot, as was her belly, hot with the stinging aftermath of the blow, hot as though they were sunburned. She moaned and whimpered as the woman slowly paced around her, and felt - very, very hard done by.

She felt miserable, and put-upon, tormented - and why not? She was being whipped! Whipped! She was being tortured! Naked and tortured! While all these perverts stared and watched excitedly.

The whip swung out and around and Shawn's eyes bulged as it whipped across her chest, at least three of the thongs cutting directly into her soft breasts. She screamed in shock and stinging pain, again bucking and twisting, her head thrashing. She heard shouts from the audience, but they were not of anger but approval and excitement.

She moaned desperately, her head turning frantically just in time to catch sight of another blow, this one cutting across her lower back. She hung limp, gasping, moaning, surrendering. Another blow across her belly made her scream and jerk for a moment, then settle again, moaning dully, then another blow across her back made her bite into the dildo and shudder.

The whip cut into her breasts once more and she screamed and jerked and thrashed wildly for several seconds, her eyes filling with tears at the pain and injustice and frustration. It wasn't fair! She didn't deserve this! Yet she could hear more hoots of approval, and for the first time a part of her flickering, spinning, sputtering mind grasped that the audience were growing very aroused at her whipping.

She understood this intellectually, of course, but now she grasped it deep within herself, and was a little dazed at it. Every time the whip hit her they loved it, and wanted more. They didn't hate her, didn't even dislike her. But they were aroused by her pain.

The whip cut across her belly, then her breasts again, and they stung and burned. One of the thongs cut right across her nipple, and it throbbed like fire.

The woman moved in front of her and swung the whip - overhand this time, and it swept up and then down between Shawn's legs. She squealed and bucked wildly as the thongs struck her heavily. Her thighs angled them together as they fell, so that the mass of them all landed against her sex with a heavy blow.

Yet her sex did not take the main force of the blow, for the tip of the thongs swept down to cut into her bottom, right between her buttocks, against the thin layer of flesh over bone there.

The woman smiled at the shouts of approval, then moved behind Shawn. Shawn was still writhing, still moaning, didn't even turn as the whip swept up and down and struck her sex again, this time from behind. Again the angle of her parted thighs pulled the leather thongs together to crack directly into her hairless slit. This time the tips swept down across her lower abdomen.

Now the whipping grew faster. A blow cut across her lower back, then her shoulders, then swept around her to crack against her belly, then her breasts. Again and again the long thongs fell between her legs, until her mons felt hot and swollen, throbbing with pain and soreness.

But, strangely, the pain seemed less now. Her entire body was hot with pain, throbbing dully. But the fresh blows seemed to sting less, to have less of a power to them. She grunted and moaned with the blows, but her body seemed to absorb them with less shock.

Shawn hung limply, only jerking a little as the whip fell. Yet she felt a new sense of energy. It was almost as though, having run a marathon, she was getting her second wind. Her mind had a new sense of clarity, and she took it all in, her position, her nudity, the whipping, the lusting, excited audience, and felt an odd kind of peace.

The whipping did not hurt her, not really. And she would get that part. And no one knew who she was. Oh if only they did, she thought, strangely even amused by the thought. Oh if you knew it was Shawn Donnelly up here, you ignorant herd of perverts. You'd all be rushing the stage to get at me.

And she felt pride, and arrogance, and a sense of smugness, and then an exhibitionistic feeling of excitement. She was a little light-headed, but now the sting of the whip as it fell seemed to drive an odd echoing spasm of sexual heat into her flesh, as if the jarring echo of pain caused vibrations which cinched with the thick vibrator still buried in her pussy.

Her flesh burned as though she had bad sunburn, from shoulders to thighs, but she didn't care. An arrogant bitch, they called her. And so she was, and she drank in their lust for her and exulted in it. God! It was all so wild and perverted and sick!

The whip fell across her pussy and she shuddered at the resonance within her, not of pain, though she felt that too, but a dark, hungry sexual pleasure. She closed her eyes and moaned, air hissing into her lungs from around the dildo. She was sweating all over, from pain, from the effort of breathing, from tension.

And then the inner heat began to build, and she writhed in as much pleasure as pain as the whip slashed across her buttocks and thighs, then her abdomen and belly and breasts, and then, blow after blow fell across her sex in rapid succession, and an orgasm washed over her like a howling storm.

And then it seemed to end, as she hung dazedly, eyes glazed. Until someone yanked on her hair, forcing her head up and back. She blinked into the groin of someone as they unstrapped the dildo and pulled it from her throat and mouth. She had time for only a few gasping breaths before a naked cock prodded at her chin, then slid into her mouth.

Her head was tilted so far back she was now looking right side up at the groin of the man who thrust himself into her mouth. She could not seeing front of her, but felt fingers at her sex, felt the vibrator coming out, and a hard cock sliding into her. Then there was movement near the man who knelt behind her, and she felt another cock pushing against her anal opening.

For the next hour or so men took her, two and three at a time, almost choking her at times, as they forced their cocks down her throat. Then, finally, whipped, bruised, exhausted, they let her down, and was made to crawl on her belly across the floor, licking at Deveraux's feet as the nearby people watched and smiled and smirked.

The night over, she was made to crawl on her belly up the hall, Deveraux or Kelly; she didn't know or care, snapping a long, thin quirt across her bottom to encourage her to more speed. Then she was flung into the trunk for the drive home.

But not her home. She didn't know whose home, but she was carried in on Deveraux's shoulders and down a set of long, narrow stairs to a basement, then through it to the rear, where there was nothing but blank stone. There she was put on her hands and knees and water poured over her, followed by soap.

She swayed exhaustedly, eyes and head down, as Kelly cleaned the paint off her. The soap and water stung, but she was slapped sharply on the bottom when she moaned a protest. And Deveraux snarled at her to obey. She was dried at last, but not taken to a warm bed. Instead she was put on her belly and her arms bound together behind her.

"I'm tired" she moaned in protest. "I'm hungry. I need a drink. Please."

Instead they forced her onto her knees and slapped at her thighs to spread them wide. Thin ropes went around her legs just behind the knees, and pulled her knees wider. She groaned as the tendons in her thighs were strained. Then her hair was yanked to force her head back. She felt something pressing at her sex, a vibrator, fat and hard, thrusting up inside her.

Her hair was released momentarily, and she swayed weakly. The Y-shaped chain was clipped to her nipples, then shortened, pulled downward, the single end clipped to the ring through her clitoral hood.

Then once more her hair was gripped firmly, and her head forced up and back. This time there was more pain, for as her head pulled back her back arched more and her nipples pulled against her clitoral hood, stretching all of them so that she whimpered. She was looking straight up at the ceiling, at Deveraux and Kelly who stood over her.

"Stick out your tongue, slut," Kelly ordered.

And Shawn dazedly obeyed. She saw the fat metal clip in Kelly's hand, saw it slide over her tongue and clasp it between them. And then it tightened, and she squealed in pain as it bit into her tender pink tongue. She twisted and shook, but of necessity had to remain still, her nipples pulling against her clit hood.

There was a chain attached to the metal thing biting at her tongue, and Deveraux pulled it up, pulling harder on her tongue, forcing it up out past her lips, painfully high. And then he locked the chain in place above her, and her hair was released.

But she was not free. She moaned weakly, trying to protest, trying to beg them to pull the thing off her tongue. But it was to no avail. They smiled at her, wished her a good night, and happy sleeping, and left.















Seven



It was a very long night, and Shawn's mind drifted exhaustedly. She had spent the previous night - after a day of hard, sweat work - on her feet. Now she spent this entire night on her knees, sitting awkwardly on her heels, her legs spread. From time to time, as her mind drifted, she swayed and the sudden intense pain to her tongue jerked her up short and brought her instantly back to panicky wakefulness.

Her throat and mouth were horribly dry. She hadn't had anything to drink since - since she couldn't remember. Nor had she had a bite to eat since before her stripping lessons. Her stomach ached and throbbed, and she felt a gnawing hunger. She was cold, as well, though her skin, where she had been whipped, was hot and throbbing.

The room was dark. They had turned off the lights, but put a candle on the floor to either side of her. They burned slowly, flickering, throwing shadows against the walls. The vibrator inside her made her belly quiver and spasm, and forced a low sexual heat upon her body. Shawn was not thinking about sex, however, and in her discomfort ignored it.

The candles had almost burned out when the first light of morning began to brighten the small windows up on the wall. Shawn was stiff and sore all over, and her mind was dazed. It was hard to measure time, to know how long she had been there.

The footsteps took her almost unawares. Suddenly there were people there before her. Kelly and Deveraux. She moaned weakly as they the knelt alongside her. The clip was removed from her swollen, numbed tongue, and Shawn sobbed in pain at the returning sensation. She hardly noticed the thick leather collar going around her throat.

The ropes around her legs were loosened, and she groaned anew as her body, held stiff all night, began to move, her legs closing. They pushed her forward onto her belly and she shuddered and moaned again, insensible, dazed with the sudden pain and shifting sensations.

Then she was lifted back onto her bottom. Her arms were still bound behind her, and now a chain was fed from her thick collar upwards to the ceiling. Shawn hardly noticed.

"Hungry," she gasped, her voice a low, weak, ragged rasping. "Please."

Then the two lifted her ankles up and pushed them back against her. There were leather shackles on them, but Shawn didn't notice. They lifted her legs straight up and forced them slowly back, ignoring her groans of pain and discomfort. Her ankle restraints were locked to the back of her collar, then to the chain leading to the roof. Deveraux adjusted it as Kelly held her in place.

She gurgled weakly as the pressure against the collar grew too great, then gasped as it loosened, then gurgled again as it pulled harshly, then panted as it loosened.

And then the chain lifted her higher, right off the floor, up into the air in slow, progressive jerking motions as Deveraux worked a pulley, lifting her up until her head was almost level with Kelly, who smirked at her.

The pressure against her throat was harsh, but not strangling. She gasped raggedly, weakly. Most of her weight was on her ankles, but the collar held her head up and back, and thus the rest of her torso, and so she gasped as it dug into the base of her jaw, and her mouth hung slack as she stared, eyes glazed, at the two of them.

Kelly laughed at her, but Shawn was beyond caring. Her legs were pushed back harshly so that her back ached. Her breasts were squeezed together by her own thighs, and Kelly fondled and pinched her nipples.

Deveraux pulled the vibrator from her and then thrust his cock into her pussy, swinging her body back and forth as he used her, then erupted inside her belly.

"Drink," Shawn rasped. "Please."

"I'll give the whore something to drink," Deveraux said.

He had put his cock back in his trousers. Now he lowered Shawn until her bottom was almost on the floor again. He seized her hair and lifted her head slightly, then pushed his soft cock into her open mouth.

"Swallow, slut," he said. "Drink it down."

Liquid filled her mouth, warm liquid, and Shawn swallowed reflexively, her mouth too dry to taste, her mind too fuzzy and exhausted to think very clearly. Yet she did understand, after the first few seconds, that he was urinating into her mouth. It was just that the thought was not meaningful. She kept swallowing the bitter tasting liquid, driven by instinct and terrible thirst.

Kelly laughed, a wild look of excitement, disbelief, and daring excitement on her face.

Then the two left, whispering urgently as Shawn hung in place, swaying slowly.

The pressure against her throat was heavy, and it was hard to breath. Yet she managed, though it exhausted her even further.

She hung for hours, staring blankly at nothing, moaning low in her throat.

Then they came for her, letting her down. Kelly sat on her face and ground her bare pussy back and forth over her mouth and nose until she came. Deveraux sodomised her. Then they hog tied her with rough hemp. Her ankles were bound to her upper thighs, her arms forced tightly together so that her elbows were almost touching, loops of rope binding them above and below her elbows, as well as around her wrists.

Her wrists were bound to her ankles, and the rope went over her shoulders, pulling harshly against her ankles, bending her more cruelly. Loops of rope went over her mouth, digging into the edges, forcing her head back as they pulled back and were bound to her ankles.

And her tongue was pulled out between the two loops, pinched between them, clamped once more, and pulled painfully as they left her there laying on her side on the cold stone for the remainder of the day.

It was almost nightfall when the untied the dazed girl again. Yet she was certainly not freed. Deveraux had a length of thick electrical tape and Kelly held her ankles pinned against her upper thighs as he wound it round and round each leg from knee to ankle, binding them tightly. Then her wrists were forced back against her upper arms and a solid, unbroken line of strong tape covered her from elbow to wrist, leaving only her fingers to wriggle ineffectually at her shoulders.

Kelly laughed hysterically at the sight of her, but Deveraux attached a leash to her collar and tugged, and Kelly slashed at her bottom and back until the sharp sting forced Shawn to crawl awkwardly forward after him.

Deveraux carried her up the stairs and she felt an instinctive relief at the warmth and colour and light. Yet her stomach churned emptily, and her throat was desperately dry. She was dehydrated, exhausted, and her mind was a muddled mess.

Upstairs, Deveraux forced a leather bondage hood over her. The hood covered her eyes and head, though it had two narrow holes on the top through which her hair was forced. It pushed up and out to either side like a pair of puffy tails.

The hood was not of black leather, however. It was cleverly painted with animal eyes, and sharply pointed animal ears. And while it left the lower part of her face free it had a pair of short straps which came down from beneath her ears. A pair of hooks were on the end, and they slipped into her mouth, pulling back on the sides of her mouth, making it impossible to speak properly.

They made her crawl up and down, snapping the crop down across her bottom and back, and even her soft, bare feet which were she could not protect.

Finally, she was made to crawl to a corner, and then her head was pushed down so that she felt cool liquid against her mouth. She pushed her swollen tongue out and lapped desperately at it. The water tasted a little mediciny, but she hardly noticed, and continued to lap it up until the bowl was empty.

The food which was held under her mouth next was warm and soft, but she didn't care. Nor did she care what it tasted like, nor did she consider the possibility it was food made for other than humans. She wolfed it down frantically, moaning low in her throat, pride and thinking gone.

Kelly pulled the car up in front of the big garage and got out. She was beginning to grow a little anxious about what they were doing, but was thoroughly enjoying herself regardless. It had been a week since they'd turned Shawn into a bitch dog, and while people had missed her no one suspected a thing. She had many boyfriends, after all, and a habit of taking off with one or another for days at a time.

Eventually, though, they were going to have to untie her or people would come looking. And what would she do then? What was she thinking? Was she angry? Vengeful? She didn't act it, but who could tell? It wasn't like she could talk.

She closed the door behind her and whistled sharply, as she would to a dog. She moved out into the living room, and smiled sadistically as she saw Shawn crawling towards her. The girl had done nothing but crawl, for her limbs had been taped together for days now. She could see, though not very well, through the small holes where the dog eyes were painted on the hood.

Deveraux had muttered some kind of bullshit about how the psychological impact of her looking up at them would put her in the proper submissive mood, but Kelly though he just wanted to make it easier on himself to feed her.

"Hello, slut dog," she greeted her in a happy voice - as she would a dog. "Did little slut dog miss me?! Want to play ball, slut dog?"

She petted and stroked Shawn's head as though she were a dog, growing excited and aroused at her own daring, her own wild cruelty. God, this was so kinky!

Shawn's upper face and head were still covered by the hood, though her eyes peeked out through the tiny holes over them. Her tongue hung over her lower lip, clipped, as usual, with a weight hanging on it. Her tongue was much longer now than it had been, and Kelly was looking forward to just how long it might get if they kept this up for another few weeks.

She removed the clip, and Shawn made an incomprehensible moaning noise as the circulation returned and her swollen tongue burned. She could not speak very well, however, both because of the swollen tongue and because of the way the hooks pulled back against the sides of her mouth

And, of course, because she got a slap to the face or a sharp blow across her bottom or bare feet whenever she tried.

Kelly sat down and tossed a ball. Shawn lurched around and crawled quickly after it as Kelly watched and grinned in delight. She never got tired of this game. Shawn did, of course, but a sharp snap of the crop across her feet always gave her energy.

Shawn grasped the ball in her mouth and crawled back to drop it into Kelly's hand, and Kelly patted her head and tossed it again. Once more Shawn lurched around and crawled quickly after it.

Each night Deveraux brought men over to play with his little dog, to ride her mercilessly, and shove their cocks down her throat, but in the day she was Kelly's to do with as she chose, and to look after. It irked her that she was given that task, while all Deveraux had to do was fuck her. But Deveraux held too much power, and had too many pictures and videos of her doing obscene things. Nothing nearly as bad as Shawn, but still bad enough.

So after tossing the ball a few more times she stood up.

"Time for your exercise, slut dog."

She led her into Deveraux's exercise room, which, like Shawn's own, had a treadmill. Shawn crawled onto it, knowing her orders, and began to crawl as the treadmill turned. Kelly watched her, taking the opportunity to get in a little exercise of her own. She only stopped when the trussed up girl began panting and swaying wildly.

She walked over and turned off the treadmill, grinning down at the sweating, panting girl.

"Come, slut dog."

The slut dog followed her to the bathroom, where Kelly filled up the enema bag and then gave her an enema. She left the plug in, and then sat back on the toilet, spreading her legs and lifting up her short skirt.

"Lick me, slut dog."

And Shawn did, at once. Her long, swollen tongue slithering up and down Kelly's pussy until the girl was moaning and arching her back in wild pleasure.

"Oh fuck yes! Oh God!" she groaned. "Lick me, you fucking whore! You filthy little slut whore dog!"

Shawn licked her to a powerful orgasm, and Kelly went limp, sighing in pleasure. Then she smiled and smoothed down her skirt as she stood up again.

"Want to go to the bathroom, slut dog?"

Deveraux had told her never to call her anything else, to see if, in her confused state, she would come to take it as a name. And whether that worked or not Kelly loved the term.

Shawn bobbed her head up and down and Kelly led her through the big house and out the back door, then through to the far end of the garden. She followed, then bent and pulled the plug from her wrinkled anal opening.

Before long, the quivering slut dog expelled the water and waste, then, holding her position, began to urinate into the garden. Kelly looked on, shaking her head in amusement, excitement and sadistic glee.

If Shawn had any shame over this she didn't show it. And Kelly felt a growing heat between her legs at how degraded the previously arrogant bitch had become. Deveraux was a real bastard!

Then it was back into the house, where Kelly washed her charge, then fed her - dog food. She could not stop grinning every time she watched her former rival gulping down the dog food as it were steak. Then she poured the "medicine" into a bowl of water and set it on the floor. She didn't know what the medicine was, exactly. Deveraux had only said it was harmless, but would befuddle the girl for a time.

Stupid little cunt never had much in the way of brains anyway, she thought cruelly.

Then it was back to the bathroom where Kelly had to brush Shawn's teeth for her, and help her rinse her mouth out. As a reward, she sat back on the edge of the tub and Shawn licked her to another orgasm.

Kelly left but called Deveraux on her cell phone.

"Bernie? How long are you going to keep her like that?"

There was no need to mention names.

"I rather like my little slut dog," he said, amused.

"That's nice, Bernie, but people are starting to wonder where the hell she is. Her agent is making noises. At least let her talk so she can call him and tell him she's off whoring somewhere."

"An interesting thought. But then she might think she was human."

Kelly blinked, surprised again by the depths of Deveraux's depravity.

"She is human, even if she's a worthless little slut. And she needs to put in an appearance somewhere before her agent hires a private eye or something to find her."

She heard him chuckling. "Don't worry, she'll put in an appearance soon enough."

He hung up, and Kelly muttered a curse and put down the phone.

The next day when she went to Deveraux's home she was relieved to see that Shawn was no longer bound as a "slut dog". She was still collared, however, and laying in the sun out back, her collar chained to a tree in the center of the yard.

She was laying down when Kelly, come looking for her, slid aside the French doors and stepped out into the back yard. She raised her head to look across at her, then rose, warily it seemed, to all fours, and crawled over.

"Well, slut dog," Kelly said. "I see you've been a good little puppy and your master has untapped your arms and legs. Are you allowed to talk yet?"

Shawn shook her head and Kelly laughed.

"Let me see your tongue, slut. Have you been doing the exercises as ordered?"

Shawn nodded, pushing out her tongue. It seemed very oddly long, but Kelly was exited at the sight, and wondered how much the girl's tongue could be made to stretch. No doubt they would find out.

She stripped and lay down, spreading her knees wide. Shawn immediately crawled between her legs and began to lick along her slit.

"Ahh, you're finally good for something, slut dog," she moaned, filling her hands with Shawn's thick dark hair as the girl's tongue lapped at her clit.

That evening Shawn began work on a movie which would feature her in the staring role. It was a pornographic movie with a minimal script, like most of them. Shawn played the part of a washed up actress who was desperately in need of money, and prostituted herself to men and women of power.

Her acting was not very good, but then, acting seldom was in those types of movies. The other actors and actresses were porn film regulars, and marveled that an actress of her caliber was willing to do a cheap, X-rated porn movie. Still, they were also delighted to take part, to appear together with such a noted actress.

Shawn had oral, anal and vaginal sex with a half dozen men and two women in the movie, all of it captured graphically, up close. The director couldn't believe his luck, and knew the video would be a best seller the instant it was released.

The next day she starred in a second feature, this one about a nymphomaniac who couldn't get enough sex. It was actually very well made, for a porn movie, and her acting had improved. More, her sex scenes showed a passion and lust that was rarely equaled by the wooden acting of her co-stars.

That night she took part in amateur night at a local strip club, where many people recognized her, and the next day she filmed her third porn movie, an all lesbian feature which featured a number of spanking scenes.

Although no announcement had been made word was leaking out, the other actors and actresses, the cameramen and lighting and sound men eager to tell the news to others. The next day she filmed another porn movie, an interracial story where she had sex with a number of large black men, sometimes singly, sometimes in twos and threes.

The tabloids were clamoring for an interview, and paparazzi besieged her home in Beverly Hills to no avail. She spent that evening at a strip club, doing lap dances.

Deveraux had reduced the amount of drug in her water, but that didn't change the fact that her experiences had basically crushed her inhibitions about sex and nudity. Not that she'd had a lot of them to begin with, of course. Growing up in Hollywood tended to make a young girl quite jaded.

She was capable of thinking now, though her thinking processes were still a bit fuzzed - like those of a tired man. A part of her cringed at the thought of what her friends and family would think when the porn movies were confirmed and released. And that would be soon, for the director and his company were determined to rush them to market and cash in on what they believed would be an avalanche of demand.

It would utterly ruin her for Hollywood, she supposed, though there'd been at least one porn actress who had made it to B-movies. Any hope of a TV show was right out of the question, and she felt a sense of bitterness and anger at Deveraux for that. The bastard had used her, degraded her, and destroyed her out of spite, out of sadistic cruelty. And there was precious little she could do about it.

She was dejected, miserable, and considered suicide a couple of times.

And yet, despite that she also felt a strange dark hunger within her, a sly, cocky pride at how beautiful she was, at how people lusted after her, at how excited she made them. The stripping had been done under a bit of a fuzzy mind, but still she could remember how wide-eyed with shock and delight the customers had been, how they had eagerly thrown money at her for private dances.

And she could remember how hard they'd been as she ground herself against them. They were like little boys at their first candy shop, almost trembling with lust for her.

What an ego trip!

She was supposed to star at another strip club that night, and had strongly considered refusing. She shied away from saying no to Deveraux, though, and knew if he ordered her she would do it. She didn't seem to have any will power around him, as if it had been crushed in the previous weeks.

As if thinking of him brought him to life Deveraux wandered into the room. Shawn, sitting on a chair in front of a computer watched him come in, watched the sneer on his face, and felt a shiver of fear at it. He did not speak, but simply unzipped. Then he grasped her hair and twisted it cruelly.

She opened her mouth, cried out in pain, and Deveraux thrust his cock into it and straight down her throat. She gagged weakly, and at first her hands pushed against his belly, but he twisted her hair savagely and barked out an order and Shawn's arms dropped to her sides.

He stood next to the chair, her thick, dark hair filling his fists as he thrust violently in and out of face. And Shawn simply sat there, slumped there, her mouth open as he fucked it, her eyes slightly glassy, her chest starting to burn from lack of air. Her eyes watered as her nose was slammed against his pubic bone again and again.

"What a lovely fucking throat," he panted as he used her. "What a lovely suckable mouth. You're going to be famous, slut-dog, when the videos of you sucking all those Black cocks gets released."

He chuckled cruelly. "But at least you're being paid well for it. You won't have to go hungry. But then you'll never grow hungry as long as you have cocks to swallow."

Black dots danced before her eyes and she felt the world beginning to spin around her, but Deveraux showed no sign of easing back, of pulling his fat cock out of her throat. He continued to pump violently into her mouth and throat, grinding and jamming her nose against his groin until, with a sigh of release, he pulled out and spat his seed over her face.

Shawn coughed and gasped for breath, and, as he put himself back in his pants and walked away, slumped back naked across the back of the chair, staring at the ceiling, chest heaving.

"Get ready for work, slut-dog," he called from across the room. You've got a show to do tonight."

And so she obeyed, gasping, trembling, getting weakly to her feet and stumbling across the room. At least she got to wear clothes - temporarily, before stripping.

That night she felt the rise of the heat inside her, the heat she rarely felt around Deveraux, who used her so casually, so contemptuously. Here were rows and rows of wide, appreciative eyes and open mouths, delighted, excited and aroused as she swirled and danced, as she exposed her full, firm breasts, and then her shaven pussy.

She swung around the pole and then crawled cat-like across the stage, nude, the audience howling its appreciation, and then, afterwards, went backstage to get her robe and take the list of names of those asking for lap dances.

She walked into the little stall and was brought up short by the man who sat there waiting for her. He glared and took a ten dollar bill from his suit, then slapped it on the table.

"I gave the floor manager a bribe to make sure I was first," he said.

Shawn blushed, something she wasn't sure she was still capable of.

"Hi, Mark," she said in a low voice.

"I didn't believe the rumors at first, even when they kept coming, from so many different sources," her agent said. "I couldn't believe you would be stripping in a cheap club."

"It's not cheap," she said defensively.

"For you it is!" he snapped. "Ten dollars!? What's ten dollars to you!?" he scrunched up the ten dollar bill and threw it at her.

"Well, dance for me then," he demanded. "Get your ass in gear."

"I - ."

"I saw you up there," he said. "You were getting off on it. You always were a hot little slut, Shawn, but I thought even you had limits. Go on, dance. I paid my ten bucks. Get your clothes off!"

Shawn trembled, but her strength of will seemed to have been sapped by Deveraux, and so she began to strip to the music, removing her robe, dancing seductively for Mark, a man she had known for years. And she could feel the heat in him, could feel the arousal as she straddled the chair and ground herself against him, as her stiff nipples slid up and down against his face.

"Did you really make a porn movie?" he demanded.

She nodded weakly. "A few."

"And they're going to be released publicly?"

She nodded, head down, then gasped as he seized her nipple rings and tugged them up and back.

"And you signed a contract on your own?"

"I-I suppose," she gasped, her back arching as her nipples stretched up and out.

Deveraux had had her sign releases.

"You don't have the legal right to sign a contract," he growled. "You gave that right to me. I have power of attorney for any and all business agreements until and unless you fire me. And I get a 15% cut. How much did you agree to accept? What are you being paid?"

"I-I... please," she gasped as he stood up and pushed her off.

He was holding her nipple rings, his fingers through them, pulling them up hard so that she rose on her toes. Yet she hesitated to grip his hands, to pull them away.

"How much?"

"I-I think it was - they said the standard amount!" she moaned.

"You dumb little slut. The standard amount for a porn actress is a few thousand dollars. There's no way I'm letting you sign for that."

He released her nipple rings and she sank back to her heels, holding her aching nipples and looking up anxiously.

He sat back down, and pulled her down on his lap again, then raised his hands and cupped her breasts, squeezing and kneading them as he looked into her eyes.

"I don't know what you're on," he said. "Or why you've done this, but there's money involved. You can be a whore if you want to, but money is my specialty. So as long as you're my client you won't be a cheap whore."















Eight



Mark Greenberg had been an agent for twenty two years, and he knew every aspect of Hollywood from top to bottom. He'd never bothered looking for clients among adult film stars. They made too little money. An average porn video only sold a couple of thousands tapes or DVDs, and the main actors in them only got a few thousand for their time and trouble.

Of course, they did an awful lot of them, so the money did add up.

But Shawn Donnelly doing a porn video would set the whole industry on its ear. It would be the talk of the nation. An X-rated porn video with her in it would not sell in the thousands, but in the hundreds of thousand, perhaps even in the millions.

And he was going to get a piece of that action.

The first thing he did was contact the director, who also ran his own distribution company. They argued, but he had a lock solid legal right to approve any agreements Shawn made. Without it the contract she'd signed was worthless, and, he told the director, it was made while under the influence. He would get an injunction to ban the distribution.

They renegotiated. Porn actresses rarely bothered looking for a share of the profits because sales of individual videos were so small. But this would be the exception. Shawn was going to get ten percent of the cover price for every tape sold, and that was that.

He then set about fanning the flames so the tabloids played things up big. Stories began to appear about how she did the first movies high on coke, and that she had tried to sue the director and lost. Then more rumors appeared, that she was broke, in debt to the mob, and forced to take part in the porn movies.

The public lapped it up.

When the first porn video was released it was a sensation. Expecting high sales they had made up a hundred thousand copies. They disappeared the first day. They made up another half million copies. They disappeared in two days.

Shawn's cut of the three movies came to almost ten million dollars. Greenberg then set about arranging a real porno movie, one with high end camera work and production values. He hired real writers to write a script, and got the best actors possible to work with Shawn.

Unlike almost all other videos before it the star of this porn video - Shawn - spent a lot of time wearing clothes, for she played a police detective, wearing upscale business suits. She was also a nymphomaniac, and in her spare time stripped at clubs, and got so aroused doing so that her lap dances often ended up with her riding up and down on the client's hard cock.

It made millions.

Of course, the public had no idea how close to reality the story actually was. His client was twisted, perverse. He'd had trouble keeping her in line at first. Only her kinky love of bondage had allowed him to keep putting the proper spin on things.



He parked the BMW and knocked on the door. It was opened by a tall, muscular, bald Black man with a diamond earring in his left lobe.

"Hey," he said, backing up as Mark entered.

"How's our little slut keeping, Leon?"

"She was getting antsy again. I tied her up in the other room."

Greenberg snorted. It sounded like a bad kidnapping story, but as he had learned, Shawn loved being tied up, and in the most uncomfortable positions. Weird girl, he thought. But it kept her from doing something stupid in public which would screw up the stories he was spinning to the press.

He walked through the house and found her standing - on one leg, in what he and Leon had come to call Shawn's Torture Chamber. She was wearing stiletto shoes so high Mark wondered if it was even possible to walk in them. Not that she was walking.

One foot was on the floor, the other pulled up high and back, her ankle tied to - her hair. Leon was getting inventive, he thought dourly.

Her wrists were bound together above her; her head forced way back, her back arched. Her body was covered in a sheen of sweat, and she groaning low in her throat. As he approached, he saw the base of a fat dildo protruding from between her swollen sex lips.

"The new script is ready," he said. "Are you capable of going over it?"

"Slut," she panted. "C-call me slut."

He sighed. He was not used to insulting women for no reason. Still, it did give him an undeniable sense of satisfaction, even a strange, dark kind of sexual excitement, especially when Shawn was nude like this.

"Are you capable of going over them, slut?" he demanded.

She moaned again and he reached between her legs and began to finger her clitoris. He'd already had her every conceivable way, for she really was a nympho now, and wanted sex constantly. His thumb stroked across her engorged clitoris and she began to whimper and moan and gasp almost at once, shaking on her one leg, gasping and moaning as her body raced up through an orgasm.

With that out of her system he untied her ankle from her hair, then, leaving her wrists bound together in front of her, led her to the other room and sat down. She knelt, as was her habit, and he wondered again where this incredible bondage and masochistic fixation had come from so suddenly.

"The cop thing did so well we're going to do a sequel," he said.

"Can I get tied up in this one?" she asked breathily.

He made a face and shook his head. "I told you before, no bondage and sex. It's not allowed. The tape would be seized and banned."

"Just a little bondage?" she begged.

He hesitated. "A little. But you can't have sex while you're tied up."

She smiled lazily. "Ah, but you can, Mark. I've done it many times."

"I'm sure you have. Now about this script."

"If you think it's right, Mark. I'll do whatever you want," she said with unblinking eyes.

Mark bit his tongue on a reply. The weird thing was that she probably meant it, and he began to consider what excitement could be had with a woman so biddable, so willing to do anything he wanted, a woman who craved punishment and abuse. It would never be dull, he was sure of that.

"Okay," he said, putting away the script. "Guess what I want?"

He unzipped, and she smiled, then leaned forward to take him into her mouth.

Kelly threw down the tabloid with a snarl and glared at the far wall. How could that filthy little slut have been tossed into a sewer and come out smelling like a rose!?

She had made more money out of those cheap porn movies - which had taken all of three days to shoot - then Kelly was going to make in five years of working long hard days on her series! It was unbelievable! The miserable little slut! And that new detective movie was pulling in money hand over fist!

She fumed as she folded her arms under her breasts and considered how she could get back at her. Maybe she would make her own porn movie! But no, she couldn't do that. It would destroy her TV career, and she'd be sued by her current producers. Shit! Life was so unfair! Not that she would ever do a porn movie, of course, she thought sourly. She had too much pride.

She looked up and then glared at Deveraux as he entered the room. "Do you have any idea how much money that slut is making!?" she demanded.

He smiled lightly, then held out his hand. A leash dropped from it, and Kelly blinked at him in surprise.

"No, but money isn't my main interest these days. I miss having a little slut dog around the house, Kelly. And naturally, I thought of you."

Kelly felt a quiver run through her, a mixture of excitement and fear, and stared at the leash as Deveraux approached. "Of course, you can't make any money on the videos I've shot of you," he said. "But I'm sure the public would be interested if they got out."

"But - but - ."

"Put on the collar, little slut, and let's see how talented you are."


END

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