Collected by Djian
The Redemption Ball
by linemstr@aol.com
Part I
"I know I was wrong, but you know I can't afford to pay off
the judgment. What can I do to make amends and work again?"
"Chrissy, no one in town is willing to take a chance with
you again. NO ONE! You're a fine actress--a GREAT actress.
But you're simply too big a pain in the ass."
Mel Iberson was sitting across the huge office desk from
Chrissandra Melrose, known in the business as "Chrissy,"
one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. A stunning blonde,
she was another Marilyn, but about twenty pounds lighter
and with assets like you wouldn't believe. She had been the
brightest star on the Hollywood sky, with seven roles to
her credit, two of them resulting in academy nominations.
In the earlier days of her career, she and Iberson had had
a brief tryst, but it ended quickly as she moved up the
ladder of stardom, and no longer felt she needed Iberson's
casting couch. She soon revealed her true colors. She was a
consummate tease, and a real bitch, spelled in all capital
letters. The string of "perks" in her contracts was growing
exponentially, and her unpredictable behavior added up to
millions in cost overruns on every picture she had made.
Her last picture was with Iberson's studio. Halfway through
the shooting, Iberson and his studio had had enough. He
sued--and won fifty million dollars in damages from her.
Both her career and finances were ruined. No producer in
Hollywood would give her another chance. She was simply too
risky and, for the moment, was also a laughing stock. Now
she was sitting in Iberson's office with her attorney,
Jason Roberts, in an attempt to make amends. Iberson wasn't
buying.
Her attitude was visible in what she wore. Iberson could
not help but notice that she wore a white cashmere sweater
and no bra. Her magnificent breasts filled the sweater
nicely, separating the knitted threads just enough to get a
hint of pink flesh and rosy nipples. Her skirt was about
six inches below her pussy, which Iberson knew was as
blonde as the hair on her head. She made no attempt to pull
her skirt down as she sat, but her legs were kept
respectfully--no--denyingly--crossed.
"There must be SOMETHING I can do to change things!"
Chrissy wailed. "You're too much of a control freak," said
Iberson. "Until you convince everyone that you can work
within the bounds set by the producer and director, and
until you convince everyone that you have some respect for
others, you won't get a job. And, incidentally, you owe me
fifty million dollars." "I can't pay. What do I do?"
Chrissy held her head in her hands, truly sobbing. Mel
looked at Chrissy's attorney. They looked at one another
knowingly, and Roberts winked at Iberson. Mel, what about
that new project I heard you were working on?" said
Roberts, slyly. Chrissy looked up. "What new project? What
is it?" "It wouldn't be right for Chrissy," said Iberson.
"It would require her to do everything she won't do." "Like
what?" asked Chrissy, almost pleadingly. "Well, it's a
movie version of all three of the "Beauty" stories by Anne
Rice. It is about what happens after the prince awakens
Sleeping Beauty. Sort of a sequel to the fairy tale." "It
sounds great!" said Chrissy, exuberantly. What would I have
to do to star in it?!" she asked.
"I don't think you understand, Chrissy. The heroine is made
a sex slave by her new husband. She is led bound and naked
through the countryside, is screwed by more men than just
her husband, is publicly punished, and has to endure a host
of other indignities. It isn't your kind of movie."
"You're absolutely right!" said Chrissy, indignantly. She
quickly was reverting to her old attitudes. You know I
don't do nude scenes! And to be nude and
bound--WELL--You're right. It just isn't my kind of film!"
"Then I guess you and I have nothing further to discuss,
Chrissy," said Iberson, rising from his chair and offering
his hand in a farewell gesture. There was a long silence in
the room. Nobody said a word. Both Roberts and Iberson
stared at Chrissy. She quickly realized what she had done.
"I did it again, didn't I?" Chrissy finally said. "Yep, you
did," said Iberson. "I know it isn't your kind of film,
Chrissy. But, on the other hand, if you did it, and did it
well, what better proof could you have that you had
changed?" "OK, I'll give it a try," said Chrissy.
"Not good enough, Chrissy. You have to decide now whether
you are committed to do this or not. We already have five
actresses who are excited about the part, and we are
weeding the list tomorrow. But if you pass the audition and
still want it, it's yours."
"What audition?"
"Well, we'll need some evidence that you're serious." "What
evidence!? I've told you I'll do it. Isn't that enough?"
"No, frankly, it isn't. Before I invest millions in you
again, I need to know you won't back out a week into the
shooting."
"What do you want me to do?" she asked. Her hands were
clasped in her lap, her knees together, and her head was
down. Iberson had never seen her so submissive before. He
and Roberts winked at each other again.
"Every year there is an underground party given by most of
the Hollywood producers and their guests. Identities are
disguised so the guest of honor cannot recognize anyone in
particular. At this party, the wayward star is a guest of
honor. The star is given the opportunity to repent, and be
re-admitted back into the fold. The star's punishment is
appropriate to the offense he or she has committed on the
Hollywood establishment. I am in charge of the selection of
the guest of honor this year. We never have a shortage of
potential candidates for the guest of honor role, but I
believe everyone would be most interested in seeing you
receive the honor this year. In order to get this part, you
must agree to be the guest of honor and be punished in
front of the other producers and their guests. We call it
The Redemption Ball."
"Just what will that entail?" Chrissy asked, still meek.
"Well, I won't tell you everything, but I will tell you
this. The part which you want requires public nudity,
bondage, and punishment. You may consider this party the
audition for the part. You will be picked up by my
limousine and taken to the site of the party. You will be
presented to the assemblage for your punishment. Everyone
producer in Hollywood, and a few other people, will see how
beautiful you truly are. Before the night is over, they
will also see how wonderful your acting truly is--except
you won't really be acting. You will be punished and
tormented. It will be a true test of your new image, and
whether you can do this part or not."
"I'll just ask you straight out. Will I be naked?" "That is
up to you. No one will touch you where you are covered.
Whether or not you are naked will be up to you."
"Will I be bound?"
"Yes, and occasionally gagged and blindfolded. It is
intended to be both an audition and a punishment. You may
find that you enjoy it, but that is really not the purpose
of the audition."
"Will there be sex?"
"I don't know what you mean Chrissy. Ask me directly what
you want to know."
Chrissy looked up, straight into Mel Iberson's eyes. "Will
I be tied up and fucked in front of everybody?" "First,
that would require nudity, and I've already told you that
that is largely your decision. However, would how
specifically I answered that make a difference in your
decision, Chrissy?" asked Iberson.
"I-I guess n-not," said Chrissy, her eyes again reverting
to their gaze at her lap. She never got an answer to the
question. Then she looked at Roberts and asked, "Is this
legal?"
"No, but who's going to file a complaint? Who can prove any
of this? Are you being forced to comply with a condition?
If any of this gets out, will your debt no longer be owed?
Will you be able to work again by exposing every producer
in Hollywood in this redemption ceremony? Think about it,
Chrissy. You've been given a real opportunity here,
unorthodox as it may be."
"I-I guess there is no other choice. I'll do it."
"Good," said Iberson. "The party will be two weeks from
tonight. My driver will pick you up in my limousine at 7:00
p.m. sharp. You will wear nothing during the day that day.
When you dress for the party, you will wear only what you
receive from me the day before. Bring everything with you
that you receive, including the case containing the
clothing. Any questions?" asked Iberson.
"No, I guess not," said Chrissy, her eyes still diverted
downward. "I'll be there."
The day before the two weeks was up, a plain black suitcase
arrived at Chrissy's home delivered by Iberson's driver. On
opening the suitcase, Chrissy found a simple sleeveless
black dress and a pair of black pumps with 3" heels. In
addition was a black blindfold, a black ball gag, a pair of
black fur-lined handcuffs and key, a black leather collar,
and a leash. The collar had a ring attached in both front
and back. Chrissy couldn't figure out the reason for the
rear ring. The front was obviously for the leash. The dress
was cut on an A-line motif, which meant that it would fit
loosely. The wide shoulder straps snapped to the front of
the bodice, and a zipper ran the entire length of the front
of the dress. There was also an ominous-looking douche and
enema included. The instructions accompanying the dress
read as follows:
'Don't forget, Chrissy. Tomorrow, you are to wear nothing
all day. We don't want any red lines or clothing marks on
your body. You may put on the dress and heels no earlier
than 6:30 tomorrow night. Make sure your evening toilette
routine is completed before then, including the use of the
accompanying douche and enema bottles. Empty the suitcase
on the bed. Open the handcuffs and place the key in the
empty suitcase. Place the empty suitcase next to the door
and leave the door unlocked. Return to the bedroom and put
on the dress and heels. After putting on the dress, put on
the collar and attach the leash to the front of the collar.
Unlock the handcuffs and place the open handcuffs in your
lap. Put the key in the suitcase, and put on the gag and
blindfold in that order. Finally, handcuff your hands
behind your back and wait for the driver to arrive to take
you to the Ball. I want you to get the feel of the role
early.'
Chrissy took out the dress and hung it in the closet. She
placed the suitcase in the closet until tomorrow, and
headed for the wine. She needed a drink.
The following day, Chrissy stayed in the house, nude, and
more than a bit apprehensive. Most of her day was filled
with the usual second-thoughts about what she was about to
do. Try as she might, she could think of no alternatives to
going through with Iberson's demands.
At 6:00 p.m., Chrissy used the douche and enema, showered,
and put on her usual make-up. A little after 6:30, she
emptied the contents of the suitcase on the bed and placed
the empty suitcase next to the front door, unlocking the
door just before returning to the bedroom. First, she
donned the dress. It was short, VERY short, just barely
covering the cheeks of her ass. The heels made her appear
even more risque. She sighed, and put on the collar,
attaching the leash to the front. Next, she put the
handcuffs in her lap, making sure they were opened wide,
and she put on the gag. She put the key in the suitcase.
The blindfold was next. The last item was the handcuffs.
She knew that if they went on, there would be no recourse.
She snapped the cuff shut on one wrist. Placing her hands
behind her back, she sighed, and felt the cuff tighten as
it snapped on her other wrist. Now she knew true
helplessness. She could only sit and wait in darkness for
the driver to take her to her fate.
It wasn't long before she heard the front door open. She
stiffened. Then she heard soft footsteps across the carpet
in the bedroom.
"Ms. Melrose, I presume. Come with me, madam." Chrissy felt
a gentle tug on her leash. She arose and followed the
voice, presumably that of the chauffeur. She was more than
a little embarrassed to be "handled" by a stranger dressed
as she was. Blindfolded, she couldn't tell if the skirt was
covering her pussy and ass or not. But regardless, she
could do little about it. Likewise, she couldn't tell if
anyone saw her being placed into the back seat of the car.
The ride was rather long, and the leather seats were cold
against her bare ass. Chrissy couldn't tell if the windows
were tinted or not. She had no choice but to let people
look if she was visible. The possibility of being seen in
such a predicament would be little embarrassment compared
with what she knew she would experience before the night
was over!! Finally, the limo pulled into a driveway and
stopped. Chrissy was led into a house. When the blindfold
was finally removed, she found herself in an ornate bedroom
in front of Mel Iberson and a maid. She was still gagged
and bound.
"Good evening, Chrissy," said Iberson. "I assume you had a
pleasant journey. You have followed my instructions
perfectly, or so it would seem. But we must now make sure.
Janie, please remove Ms. Iberson's dress."
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