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personal experience. Copyright: This story is copyright 1995 by
the author, Doc Masterson, under the U.S. Copyright Convention
and the Bourne Conventions. All rights, including: the right to
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Hollywood Hostage
by
Doc Masterson
CHAPTER TWO
"I won't wear that," I said looking at the lacy black French
maid's outfit she had brought to the door of my cell.
"You will wear it or you won't get those cuffs off your
hands," she said staring at me through the cold steel bars.
"But those are for... "
"It's for you. In fact I had to get a special size. You're
my first football player and you've got more beef to cover than
most of my slaves."
"There's got to be a way I can just get out of this whole
mess."
"Put it on or you will spend another day cuffed to your
balls and that rock hard dick."
She was right. I was hard and stiff like a long casting
rod. I had tried to ignore it, but I had been hard since I had
come out from under her gentle drugs. The whole treatment was
somehow exciting. I tried to make it some sort of excitement
from being near Breta, but I knew differently. I was excited by
the kind of treatment she had planned for my body.
"All right, I'll do it, but it doesn't mean I'm accepting
this whole thing."
"Here is the key. I'll open the door as soon as you start
to unlock yourself."
"Okay."
She threw the key through the cell door window and it fell
in the corner of the cell. With my hands tethered to my balls I
had to nearly pull them off to reach the key on the floor. I
hoped I would be able to get unlocked and make a run for the open
cell door. She was too fast. She closed the door after hanging
the outfit by its hanger on the door bars.
I unlocked the nasty device she had installed on my body,
but it didn't work the way I had expected. The key released the
two manacles from the ball crushing ring but both the ring and
the manacles stayed attached to my body. I could finally get out
the uncomfortable positions my body had been forced to take from
the stress, but I was still in pain.
I looked at the neatly pressed outfit as it hung on the
hanger. There was both undergarments and the humiliating French
maid's dress on the hanger. I wanted to take a stand and rebel
against the assault on my manhood. Somehow I could not. I am
not sure if it was some sort of desire to see how far she would
go or an inner hope I could try something new. I convinced
myself that I had made a promise and I had to keep it. It was a
lie.
The undergarment was really a heavily boned long-line bra
affair with special push up elastic to work on a man's pectoral
muscles. She had said that they were my size, but I thought they
were small. The waist area, particularly, was binding. It
seemed to remove two pant sizes from my midsection. It felt
awful.
The black lace costume was also tight but it seemed to
expect the girdling undergarment to have done its job. I managed
to get it on and zipped up the back with a great deal of effort.
I had too many back muscles to be able to work a back zipper
without a lot of trouble.
The outfit had a deep plunging neckline that made my chest
look like an ample pair of 'hooters'. The stiff nylon skirting
hung above my waist to leave my still painfully imprisoned balls
clearly visible. My continuously rock hard pussy-fucker seemed
to be playing hide-and-seek among the folds of the lace as it
stood at attention.
I could not stand the thought that someone I knew would see
me in this condition. In fact, I could not stand the idea that
any man would see me as I had been forced to appear in my cell.
I remembered what Breta had said. I was going to be trained as a
slave. I was going to be Breta's slave.
The more I thought about the humiliation the more I wondered
what my real feelings were. I knew that my love muscle was hard.
I knew I was excited by the unexpected turns my life had taken.
Could I find the prospect of becoming a slave satisfying? The
whole thing scared the shit out of me.
"Are you dressed?" Breta said through the bars.
"Yeah, I guess."
"Well, let's see it. Turn around and model it for me."
"Hay, look I'm not... "
"Let's get something straight. I give orders, and you
follow them. I can give you a lot of pain if you don't do as I
say. You are my prisoner here."
"Okay. Okay," I said trying to model the outfit using the
posing techniques she had taught me earlier for my photo
portfolio.
"You're doing it like a man."
"Well, I am a man."
"Not in that outfit. You are a maid. Here are some
accessories that may help you get into the spirit of your new
status."
She passed a pair of high heeled boots and a wig through the
bars. I knew it was useless to fight so I put them on without
further resistance. The wig was easy to put on and it even
seemed to match my blond hair. The high heeled boots were
another story. The heel was about nine inches high and the boots
laced all the way to my knees. The boots were locked to each
other at the top to make all but the smallest of steps
impossible.
"What about these things," I asked as soon as I heard her
again outside the cell door.
"What things?"
"The hand cuffs and this ring around my balls."
"Maybe after you eat."
"Well I am hungry."
"First lock your right-hand back to your balls and I'll get
your food tray."
I guess I expected some sort of set back. I was hungry so I
did as she ordered. I knew I still had the key and could re-open
the lock after I ate.
"Here's your meal. When you are finished lock your other
wrist to your balls, put the key on the tray and slide it back
outside the cell."
I did as she asked. I did, however, take my time eating and
re-locking the painful restraining device. I knew I wanted to
plunge my stud meat into Breta's cunt, but that was not why my
dick was so hard. I was somehow excited by the rough treatment
she was giving me. I had always been the one who dominated the
interplay between my partners. Football players always take
charge, right?
"I'm going to open the cell," Breta said looking to see if I
had complied with her orders. "You have someone who wants to meet
you."
"Good, I could use a little exercise," I said trying to find
a reason to roam about and find an escape route.
"Meet Trixi Haus my training assistant. She helps me with
the tough cases and works on days I have to go out for a shoot,"
Breta said as she opened the cell door for the first time.
Trixi's six foot, two inch frame was much taller than that of
Breta's five foot, ten, but there was more to the difference.
Both were beautiful, don't get me work, and both were stunningly
dressed as dominatricies. Breta's brown hair was just a bit
longer than Trixi's straight black locks. I liked Breta's
transparent blue eyes but Trixi's cold brown lens essence scared
the hell out of me.
"It's nice to meet you," I said trying to understand the
unique leather dominatrix costume she was wearing just outside my
cell door.
"Ms. Nautica knows I prefer to speak with this," Trixi said
wielding a long bull whip that found its way to my left ass
cheek.
"Ouch, that really hurt. What did I... "
"That was just a warning," Breta said brandishing her multi-corded whip. "You either follow our instructions of you will pay
for your failures with great bodily pain."
"Okay, okay, but I... "
"From now on you are to follow all orders women give
immediately without question. Do you understand?" Breta asked.
"Yes, but... " I said starting to become confused by the
whole thing.
"There are not to be any 'buts'," Trixi said making another
attack on my ass cheek. "Or you will feel this on your butt."
"You are to answer 'yes, mistress' to whatever is our order.
Do you understand?" Breta asked again.
"Yes, mistress," I said trying purposefully to avoid any
word that would show my surprise or resistance to their ill
conceived plans.
"We're going to take you across the compound to Trixi's
apartment. You will need to learn your duties as a maid for her.
I' afraid she didn't tidy up this morning."
"Yes, mistress."
They led me across the tree covered area that was located
between Breta's house and the apartment Trixi had over what look
like a tractor garage. It was hard to walk on the uneven ground
in the high heels. This was my first experience in spiked heels
and I didn't manage the trial very well. Since the boots had a
hobble affair at the top where the two boots were locked
together, I had to take extremely small steps. Having my hands
tethered to my balls didn't help me retain my balance and I fell
four times.
"As you can see there are no other residences within four
miles of the house. Your escape would be difficult at best. If
we catch you, you will be severely punished."
"Yes, mistress."
When they got me to the stairs leading to the apartment, I
found the task of walking even more difficult. The boots had
been fastened together with just enough slack to allow me to
raise one foot the necessary height for the next step. I could,
however, only put the toe of the shoe on the next riser. Once on
the step I would have to shuffle step until I had moved both feet
to the back of the step.
"Hurry up," Trixi demanded.
"We don't have all day, " Breta added.
"Yes, mistress but... " I said before I realized the
transgression I had committed.
The pair was ready for my failure and both landed strokes
with their whips that almost sent me down the stairs backwards.
I tried to regain my balance at all costs and almost ripped my
balls off as my arms tried to compensate for my other failures.
My body was on fire with pain. These bitches really meant
business.
"You will follow orders without reservations," Breta said
recoiling from her blow to my back.
"Yes, mistress."
"Get your ass up those stairs," Trixi added smiling at the
new red spot on my newly bloodied ass.
"Yes, mistress. I am moving as fast as I can."
"We don't want excuses," the two said in unison as they
again raked my body with their stout leather whips.
"Yes, mistress," I finally managed without any indication of
my real thoughts.
I made what was really a superhuman effort to make it the
last dozen steps to the upstairs apartment. When I got inside it
was a mess just as they had promised. Although I had lived as a
bachelor for a couple of years, I had always had girlfriends who
would help with the cleaning. I had never thought about it, but
I simply offered sex and they would help me clean.
"I'm going to unlock your cuffs," Breta said motioning for
me to stand still.
"Yes, mistress," I said not hiding my happiness at having
some small additional control of my life.
"Get me the weights," Breta said ignoring my feelings
entirely.
"How much do you want?" Trixi asked.
"Five pounds to start. I don't want to damage the
merchandise too much," Breta said as if I were some kind of
inside joke between them.
As the hand cuffs were released from the ring around my
balls I considered an escape attempt. The pair still had their
whips near by and I still had the high heel shoes tightly laced
to my feet. The thought of entering the city in a French maid's
outfit with my balls handing down in a ball press device didn't
appeal to me either.
As soon as my wrists were released, Breta put a 2.5 pound
weight on each side of my ball ring. The weights certainly got
my attention. It felt like the balls and sack were going to be
ripped from my body any minute. The additional crushing pressure
on my balls almost made me sick at my stomach. It felt like a
helmeted tackle to the groin in football without a cup.
"I would think twice about any fast movements," Breta said.
"These weights seem to have a real mind of their own when you
move about."
"Yes, mistress."
"Now let's see what you can do to get this place cleaned
up," Trixi said taking a comfortable front row seat.
"If you don't do it right the first time, you'll feel
this," Breta said cracking her whip in the air for emphasis.
"Yes, mistress."
I could not move very fast, but I made every effort to get
the placed cleaned up. The two seemed content at sitting on the
sidelines and directing my efforts. I was their slave, just as
they had announced. I seemed to be given some leeway for
mistakes since it was the first time I had tried to serve them.
I knew, however, that would likely be to only time I could
operate without immediate punishment for any errors.
"That will be enough cleaning for today," Breta announced.
"We are horny and need some sex."
I could hardly believe my ears. The rock hard fuck pipe I
had displayed through out the whole imprisonment needed some
action too. I had assumed that somehow the excitement I felt was
a basic body need I had for some sex. I didn't want to think why
else I might have such a continuous and intense 'hard-on'.
"Yes, mistress."
"Get on your knees."
"My knees?"
"Don't question authority," Trixi said punctuating her
comment with the whip.
"Yes, mistress."
"Eat me," Breta said.
"Yes, mistress."
I had never participated in this type of oral sex with a
girl friend. They had often given me a blow job after a football
game when I was too tired to have full sex. Giving the woman sex
without my own personal satisfaction, however, was totally new to
me. I somehow had a sense that I would know how to do it
naturally, but was I wrong.
"Don't play with it," Breta said.
"Yes, mistress."
"Deeper."
"Yes, mistress."
"Put your whole face into it."
"Yes, mistress."
"Faster."
"Yes, mistress."
I would learn a lot before I had serviced both Trixi and
Breta. I wanted to shoot inside their warm cunts, but that was
apparently not what they wanted this day. I hoped that would
come when they had both climaxed. I needed to cum badly.
"I hope you both enjoyed what I did," I said starting my
plea.
"You've got a lot to learn, but what is your point?" Breta
said.
"Well all this has made me horny and I need some sex."
"You are never to have sex again," Trixi said getting ready
for my negative reaction.
"And you'll have to be punished for just asking for it,"
Breta said grabbing my dick and spinning me to the floor.
That was all I would remember of my first day in training as
Trixi immediately hit me with something hard near the back of my
neck. She knew her job, I went out like a light.
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