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Material Senorita
By Anynom
Author's Notes: Don't read this if you're under 18 and don't try this at home. Finally hit on an idea for her and had to send it. Enjoy.
Spain. A country of history and elegance that still manages to keep its head into the latest in pop culture trends and, being tied to Europe, has a connection to different music stylings and stars than those in America. However, Spain was also well connected to past stars and when one wanted to kick off an international tour, one could pick a worse place to start.
It had been eight years since Madonna had taken the stage for a concert tour. Eight years since she had gone through rehearsals and wild costumes and singing before people for hours on end. She'd had a baby since then, a few movies and some other stuff. But what mattered was that she still felt the rush on stage, the presence on stage, the fact that thousands of people had their eyes focused on her, that she was their world for that moment in time.
God, she'd missed it.
She'd settled on Spain to get back on the tour track because of her still large fan base there, a way to kick off and get the kinks out before she hit the States. And, despite some bluster to the contrary, she wanted to see if she still had it, if she could still entertain people, if she could still be the biggest damn music star in the business. Judging by the reactions of the crowds to her wild show, she damn well had it. They cheered everything from her new techno-styles to her sexy '90's numbers and even roared at her '80's stuff. It was pretty much a given that, unlike so many other stars of the past few decades, Madonna was still going to be a force in the music industry in the 21st century.
She had forgotten just how good the whole thing made her feel, the energy she had on stage performing leaving her with a nearly sexual desire after every show. That made Guy more than happy as pretty much the first thing Madonna wanted at the end of the night was to fuck him hard and fast to burn off all the energy.
Aside from the shows, Madonna was having a nice time in Barcelona, seeing the sights, getting some shopping done and even taking her child to the beach (even though she did have to have a small security phalanx making sure no photographers were around). Still, aside from the hubbub of it all, it was nice to actually spend some time by herself a bit, try to pretend for even a few minutes she wasn't a superstar.
She had just come back to her hotel, a nice beachside resort that had a crack security team ready to keep out the throng of tabloid vultures who were always waiting for an exclusive shot of her. She had decided to just unwind for a bit here. The last show of the Barcelona leg had been done and now she was just unwinding but it moved on. Guy and the baby were enjoying some sights so she felt she could catch up on some sleep.
She stepped out of the elevator and onto her floor. She smiled as she caught a glimpse of herself in a hallway mirror. Even past forty, she was still hot as hell and she knew it. Diet, hard exercise and yoga had helped her keep fit and limber as anyone who saw her shows could easily attest to. Her short blond hair was in a pageboy style, a break from the wild wigs she'd worn at times in her shows. She was dressed casually in just a pair of jeans and a dark shirt, her sunglasses now in her pocket to end her disguise.
She had nearly gotten to her room when a room door near hers opened and a man stepped out. He was obviously a native of the area, albeit one dressed in a very nice suit. He had strong features, dark hair and an engaging smile which he focused on Madonna. "Senora," he said, bowing his head, an accented voice ringing nice and smooth from his mouth.
It took Madonna a moment to recognize him and she got a groaning feeling in her stomach. His name was Armand Varrazza, one of those hypnotists who was always going on Spanish TV shows, putting women under and doing stuff. Spain seemed to be filled with guys like that, an odd base for all that in this country. Madonna sighed as she wondered how she lucked out with some hack like this next to her room. Well, at least he spoke English. "Hi."
"I saw your show last night," Armand said, that smile still on his face. "Very nice. Very nice, indeed and I just had to come to meet you."
"Well, thanks," Madonna said. "Tell you what, go down to the concierge and I'll get an autograph sent to you."
Armand smiled, seeming to recognize Madonna's insistence on getting rid of him. "Well, it would be a nice memento. But would I have to give you?"
"Fame, beauty, money, loving guy, great kid, damn good question," Madonna replied.
"True, but there must be something for a woman as lovely as you," Armand said, tapping his chin. "Ah, I have it!" He reached into his coat pocket, seeming to rummage around for something as Madonna watched in nervousness. He brought his hand out to show a small mirrored ball attached to a chain. He held it before Madonna's eyes, the ball spinning in the light as she took it in.
Madonna's first thought was to brush the crystal away and tell the guy to get the hell away from her. But as she stared at the spinning crystal, she felt something, a strange wave of relaxation coming over her. The crystal ball continued to spin, throwing tiny facets of light onto her relaxing face. Madonna felt her anger and thoughts fade as she kept staring at the spinning ball, her mind dwindling nearly to an afterthought.
Armand smiled as he saw the singer fall swiftly into a trance. He just had a talent for this, for being able to put women under so quickly and without a word spoken either. Truth to tell, he didn't really need the crystal itself but he just liked the melodrama of it. He waited a few more seconds, then lowered the crystal and waved a hand before Madonna's face. Instantly, her eyes slammed shut and her head slumped forward as she fell under his power.
"Let's go inside, Madonna," Armand stated, taking her by the arm and leading her to her room. He took the key from her pocket and slid it through the lock, then led Madonna inside. As expected, the room was lavish, a large living area before the main bedroom, which Armand led Madonna into.
He started to undress, sliding off his jacket and undoing his tie as he sat on the bed. He took in Madonna's appearance before speaking. "Madonna, listen to me carefully. You will answer all my questions honestly."
"Yes......" she replied, eyes still shut.
"Madonna, how long will we be alone?"
"Whole....afternoon....." she answered, swaying slightly before him. Armand undressed, taking her in, her lovely face so much more beautiful under hypnosis. Naked, he stood, picking up the crystal and holding it before her. "Open your eyes but remain entranced, Madonna."
Her eyes fluttered open, instantly focusing on the spinning ball. "Listen to my voice, Madonna," Armand intoned. "Listen to me carefully. Look at the crystal, Madonna, look at the crystal and feel yourself becoming more and more hypnotized, Madonna, you are becoming more and more hypnotized by the spinning crystal, Madonna. You are being hypnotized, deeper and deeper, Madonna, more and more hypnotized."
"Hypnotized......" she whispered.
"Yes, Madonna, hypnotized, you are becoming more and more hypnotized. Now, Madonna, you are now completely hypnotized. You have been hypnotized by me, Madonna, you have been hypnotized by me and are now my hypnotic slave, Madonna, you are now my hypnotic slave."
"Slave....."
"Yes, Madonna. My little hypnotized slave. You will do all I say because you are hypnotized, Madonna, you will not disobey me because you are hypnotized. You will obey me, Madonna."
"Obey.....you."
"I am your Master, Madonna. You will obey your Master."
"Obey.....Master......"
Armand lowered the crystal, knowing she was fully his now. "Undress, my hypnotized love slave."
"Yes, Master," Madonna intoned as she yanked her shirt over her head. She wore no bra, her full breasts, even more impressive at showing no sag at her age, on full display. He watched her undo her jeans and slide them off, then her panties, standing nude before him. "Lie on the bed, Madonna," he commanded.
"Yes, Master," she intoned. She moved over and onto the bed, lying in full view for him. His cock was hard now, not just for the obvious reasons but because he was dominating a woman who had made a career showing herself to always be the dominator. He moved on top of her, kissing her full on the mouth. As he had guessed, her tongue shot into her mouth as she wrapped her arms around him and brought him to her, her inner libido on full display here.
He pressed himself on her, breaking off the kiss to go to her breasts, rubbing and kissing them. Certainly, everyone in the world knew what she looked like naked, she'd taken it off enough times but it was still great to see her in such good shape as well as being able to have those tits in his hands and mouth, licking the nipples as he pressed her breasts together and to his mouth. He spent a few minutes kneading and suckling her tits, loving the moans as she hooked her legs around him, letting him go at her. Armand spent several minutes licking and kneading her tits, knowing this was turning her on hard and fast. He could have taken her but he wanted to do it special, just for her. He broke away, speaking to her. "Get on all fours, Madonna."
"Yes, Master," the Material Girl said, turning around and showing her nice round ass to Armand. The hypnotist moved his hands to her, cupping her cheeks, rubbing them for a few moments before spreading them enough to let his cock enter. He began to work on her, pushing his cock in and out of her ass, pinching and rubbing the buttocks as he went at her. Madonna's moans grew louder as she welcomed him into her, his cock continuing to shove itself deeper and deeper into her, his hands kneading her cheeks harder with every thrust of his manhood into her behind. Madonna threw her head back and let out a scream as he came into her, her body shaking under the power of his orgasm.
Armand pulled his cock out and did his best to rise on the bed. "Kneel, slave." He watched Madonna obediently kneel before him, his cock near her mouth. "Take me, Madonna. Take me and suck me." She immediately took his rod into her mouth, lips sliding over the hard shaft as her tongue went to work at him. Her head bobbed fast on his member, trying to take it all into her mouth, her tongue licking at the drops of semen starting to exit the tip. Armand gripped her hair hard, holding her in tight and letting her suck him off. "Harder," he hissed. "Suck it harder." Madonna obeyed, her lips and tongue working furiously on his member in a way none of Armand's past beauties had. He held onto her tight as he shot his wad into her mouth, holding her in and making sure she licked every drop away from him.
Armand took her again, driving her into the bed as he went at her from on top, sucking on her tits again as he fucked her. Knowing he didn't have much time, Armand remade the bed, then took Madonna over to the shower. He started the water and turned to face her. "Listen carefully, Madonna. When I tell you, you will start counting down from thirty to one. When you reach one, you'll wake up and shower. You will not remember anything that has happened here between us. Nothing at all. You will just have showered after a nap, that is all."
Armand took Madonna and led her into the shower, the water smacking into her. "Start counting, Madonna," Armand said as he swiftly turned to leave. He left the room and leisurely walked back to his own. He stepped in and smiled. It was a nice day after all, a shame she would be leaving soon. Ah, well, she'd have her memories of the one day when the Queen of Pop became just another slave.
THE END
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