Author: Sterling
Title: Angela Soprano
Summary: I confessed online my fantasies about Angela Soprano,
gifted child singer. After I attend one of her concerts, we are
both kidnapped and wake up in a padded box -- naked. The
mysterious kidnapper threatens me with death if I don't live out
my fantasy with her, but I refuse. Angela graciously sings to
comfort me as I slip towards drug-induced death. But I don't die.
Keywords: Mg cons first coercion het

NOTICE:  This story contains explicit sex.

First posted 6/17/2011.

I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed.
Comments to sterling27@live.com.

I have written many other stories and they can all be found at
/files/Authors/Sterling/

You are welcome to copy this story if you include the entire text
unchanged, including this notice.  If you tell me where you have
re-posted it, I can enjoy knowing it is appreciated and perhaps
enjoy the feedback the story gets where you re-post it.

Sterling

And now, our feature presentation.  Enjoy!


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Angela Soprano

When I awoke, I was in total darkness, lying naked on a velvety
mattress. I started to sit up, but bonked my head on something. I
reached out and quickly found a low ceiling overhead and a wall
to my right, but as I reached to my left I touched flesh. I drew
my hand back, heart pounding.

"Who's there?"

At first there was no answer.
 
"Who's there?" I asked again. Hearing nothing I reached out
again, very tentatively, and touched flesh again.

A small, frightened voice said, "I'm here."

"Who are you? What's going on? Where are we? Can you get out?"

"No, we're trapped. I don't know anything," said the voice,
definitely a child. It was a familiar voice somehow.

"Hello!" I shouted. "Is anybody out there?"

We were on a thin velvet mattress. The walls and ceiling were
similarly padded with velvet. Based on the part I could feel
while respecting my companion's personal space, we were in a
space about two feet high, seven feet long, and three feet wide.
"What's over there behind you?" I asked.

"Nothing."

I felt seams, small circular disks, and in the center of the
ceiling a disk with a fine grating which was probably for
ventilation. Everything was inset into the velvet; there were no
handles or knobs or latches. "Do you feel any knobs or doors,
anything you can get hold of?"

"Nope," came the answer.

I couldn't think of anything else obvious to say or do, and we
both lapsed into silence for perhaps a minute.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I went to sleep in my hotel room."

"The Four Seasons in Chicago?"
 
"Yes."
 
"Me too. I was at the Angela Soprano concert and was going to
look around the town a little today before flying home. What
about you?"

"I'm ... I'm Angela Soprano."

My heart began pounding. "You're Angela Soprano?" I asked,
awestruck.

"Yes."

Angela was a child prodigy, an 11-year-old girl singer -- a
soprano, no less. She had a pure, haunting voice, surprisingly
powerful for one her age. She was also stunningly beautiful.
 
I had been fascinated by her ever since I had found out about her
a year before. I bought her albums and followed her online,
avidly watching every new video on YouTube. It was apparent she
was pretty much a normal kid: full of joy when at play or at
work, sociable, friendly and polite. She seemed to relate happily
and genuinely with everyone: siblings, parents, peers and all the
celebrities she came into contact with since her fame.
 
I had waited for her to give a concert within driving distance of
my home, but I got impatient. I flew into Chicago the day before
for the concert, and just as everyone said, it was even more
amazing to see and hear her in person. There was a whole
dimension that the albums and videos didn't capture.

"Angela, I'm you biggest fan. I love your music. You're
fantastic!"

"Thank you," she said, in that simple phrase I had heard on video
so many times. I thought I could hear her relax a little.
 
"My name is Sterling. Sterling Smith."

I felt a swelling in my heart whenever I saw or heard Angela, and
although the word didn't totally fit, I had sort of a crush on
her. I mainly felt it as infinite tenderness and protectiveness.
I had often fantasized about what I might say to Angela if I ever
met her, how I really wanted her to know how amazing and special
she was. But I had nothing to give her in that regard; I could be
at most one more person in a sea of fans telling her how great
she was. I had known that if I ever happened to see Angela one on
one, I was just going to tell her I liked her music and that was
that. I hadn't even stood in line to meet her the night before.

But now we had been thrown together in bizarre and frightening
circumstances.
 
I was completely naked. We were only saved from serious
awkwardness because she couldn't see anything in the total
darkness. It made me uneasy because although my crush on her was
mostly chaste, I had also fantasized about making love to her in
some magical, impossible world where she was an eager participant
at every level. That was something she would never, ever know
about.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I don't know, like I said. I went to sleep in the hotel room
with my mom in the next bed, and the next thing I knew I woke up
in here. I woke up before you."

"Listen, Angela, I have no idea what's going on, but if there's
anything I can possibly do to get you out of here safely, I'm
going to do it, OK?"

"Thank you."
 
I was silent for a while, thinking and not coming up with much.

"Do you have any ideas? Thoughts? Things we might try?"

"Ummm, no." After a brief pause, she added softly, "I'm really
scared."

"I bet you are. I'm scared too."

Then I found a way to express my concern for her that felt
right. "Angela, until someone comes or we can think of something,
we're stuck here with each other. What would make you most
comfortable? What would you like most? We can talk, or we could
just be quiet, or ... I don't know, I could even hold your hand
if you wanted."

I hesitated, then said, "I'd even offer you a hug, but I should
tell you that I don't have any clothes on. I mean, I went to bed
with pajamas on, but whoever put me here took them off."

"I went to bed with a nightgown on too," she said, "but, um..."

"Oh," I said quietly. As I thought about that, a strange
assortment of emotions rose in me, including dread and
excitement. "Oh, shit."
 
I heard the hint of giggle.
 
"Sorry about my language. It's just that I don't think it's an
accident. Whoever is doing this --". I stopped myself. What good
was it to share my hunches about why we had been put there? A
little blood flowed into my penis, but not too much. "I'm so
sorry, Angela. I'll do anything I possibly can to get you out of
this and back to your family safely."

"I want my mommy," said Angela quietly.

After a long pause, some lights started glowing around the
corners of the room.

"Oh, no," I said, quickly turning away towards the wall to hide
my nakedness. "I promise not to look."

Just then the box started rotating, soon leaving me at the bottom
of a V-shaped trough -- and Angela Soprano couldn't help sliding
down against my back. "Sorry!" she giggled.

I'm not sure what parts of her bumped into me first, but she
quickly turned so I felt her backbone against my back and her
butt against mine.

But the room kept rotating, so Angela rolled up over my back and
down the other side. If I stayed facing the wall I'd crash into
her backwards. If the room kept turning, we would be in continual
danger of crashing into each other. Staying oriented visually was
crucial -- more important than making sure I didn't see her
nakedness.
 
Gravity had flipped Angela over me and she slid into the new
V-shaped trough. I was the one sliding down and bumping into her.

"Ooph!" she said.

"Help!" I yelled once more to anyone who might be outside.

'"Help!" echoed Angela, an octave higher.

The rotation kept going, and I instinctively clutched her tight
with one arm. Perhaps by the same instinct she clutched me. Now
we were at least one entity, rolling across floor, wall, ceiling,
wall -- not that I could tell them apart. We could concentrate on
easing our impact with the padded walls and not worry about
hitting each other.

The rotation slowed and then stopped. When it did, I had Angela
Soprano in my arms, both of us naked. Fortunately all traces of
my erection had disappeared. But I had seen her naked body during
those initial rotations. While I was concentrating on keeping
from bumping into things, I had also seen her, including quick
glances at the parts I wasn't ever supposed to see.

When I pulled back to look at Angela's face, I didn't see the
happy, friendly confident expression I was used to. She looked
like a very frightened young girl, and very vulnerable. She was
in some ways more beautiful, though. She was trembling.

I tried not to look down at her chest, I really did, but I
couldn't help glancing. Her aureoles were half-dollar-sized and
dark, her nipples beginning to poke out. Her breasts had
definitely stirred from the androgynous form that a girl
naturally retains through late childhood.

Had she seen where I was looking? "I'm sorry!" I said, flustered,
and shut my eyes.

Instead of turning away, though, Angela clutched me tight.

"I'm so scared, Sterling."

"It's OK, Angela, somehow we'll get out of this."

I felt her relax a little and felt her warm softness in my arms.
I was glad she wasn't as frightened, and was touched that contact
with me could make her feel better. But her relaxation had an
unfortunate effect too. My penis surged strongly to life. I
pulled my pelvis back away from her, but she naturally looked
down to find out why.

"No!" she said in horror. "No, don't do that!" pushing away from
me.

"Angela, no, sorry! I'm not going to do anything! It's just a
reflex... Here, let me turn away."

I turned, but within a few seconds the room started rotating
again. "Oh, shit!" I said, and with the imperative of not
crashing into each other we clutched each other once more. "Just
ignore my penis," I said. "It's a reflex, just a reflex; I'm not
going to do anything with it, I swear!"

After another full turn or so, the room stopped rotating and left
us in each other's arms. Neither of us pulled away, despite my
erection that lay against her thigh.

"Sterling," whispered a voice from the ventilation duct.
"Sterling Smith." Angela looked around; obviously she heard it
too.

"Hey! Let us out of here! We're trapped and there's something
very wrong."

"Sterling," it repeated, whispering. "Nothing's wrong."

"You've got to let us go! Now!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Sterling... Sterling..."

"Yes?" I said.

"You know what you've dreamt of doing, Sterling." It was a
maddening, slow and deliberate whisper. "Why don't you go ahead
and do it?"

"This isn't funny!" I shouted.

"Tell Angela about your dream, Sterling."

"Just pay no attention to the voice," I said to Angela.

"Sterling," it persisted in its unhurried whisper, "Go ahead ...
she's right there."

Angela wasn't totally innocent. "You dreamt of... sex with me?"
she said, disgust plainly written across her face, pushing back
from me once more.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry, I never dreamt of actually having sex, not
at all, just a fantasy -- this is so horrible, Angela. I'm
sorry." I could just say the voice was slandering me and try to
convince her to ignore it -- but there was my erection to
explain. My eyes misted up. Here I was, frightening the one
person I wanted more than anything in the world to reassure and
comfort. The one person in the world I wanted to think well of me
thought I was a disgusting pervert.

"I don't understand," Angela said. The girl had poise. She wanted
to understand.

I couldn't lie. I just hoped I could say it in a way that would
make her feel safe, even if there was a prong of hot flesh lying
flat against her thigh. "There are some of us men who get
attracted to girls, not just women. And I'm one. So I notice you.
I didn't want you to know about this at all -- it shouldn't be
part of your life. I'm so sorry!" After a pause, I added, "If it
helps, I dream more of love than just having sex -- like wanting
to marry you -- I mean, it's just a fantasy, of course, but maybe
you can see the difference?" It was lame.

"Sterling..." whispered the wall. "Go ahead... she's right
there."

"No," I said. "Absolutely not. Forget about it."
 
"She's warm, she's soft, she's naked, and she's right there. If
you do it to her, I'll let you go."
 
"Yeah, well, she's not willing, and it would be bad for her even
if she were, so just forget about it!"
 
After several seconds, it said, "Imagine how good it would feel."
 
I decided to just be silent. We had discussed this horrible idea
for long enough.

Angela said nothing either.
 
"Very well," whispered the voice. Just then several things
happened in quick succession. I heard a panel snap open, felt
someone grab my foot and yank it down out of the box. I saw hands
clamping a metal ring around it. A new panel slammed shut, with a
hole just big enough for my ankle.

The restraint added a new level of panic. I pulled my leg up with
all my might but it did no good. Then I felt rubbing, the cool of
alcohol, and the sting of a needle.
 
"Oh shit," I said and winced. The needle stayed in position and I
felt it being taped.

"What's happening?" asked Angela with concern, looking down at
where my foot disappeared.

"Someone's started an IV."

"IV?"

"Intravenous tube."

The wall whispered again. "You're not being cooperative,
Sterling. You need to engage in sexual intercourse with Angela,
and then we'll let you both go. That's all you have to do."

"Never!"

"I'm starting a drug in that IV, Sterling. A drug you won't like
at all. It's going to drip in slowly, a little at a time."

I felt a burning starting in my foot.

"Oh, shit!" My eyes shot open with the pain. "That hurts!"

The maddening voice whispered again, "It's going to keep hurting
more and more, if you keep being stubborn ... until you DIE. All
you have to do is slide your penis up inside her vagina, that's
all. One of the drugs will keep your cock hard until the very
end, Sterling. All you have to do is press it into her. You know
how. You know where."

"No!" Suddenly I had a horrible thought. "You're going to let
Angela go, though?" I asked with bated breath. They had to let
her go. I had to make sure she'd be safe. That was the only thing
that really mattered.

"Oh, Angela's not in any danger; we'll let her go soon no matter
what. You're the one in danger, Sterling. We'll let Angela
go after your penis slides into her vagina -- or after you're
dead. One or the other."

Angela said uncertainly, "Um, I don't know, Sterling. Maybe we
should, you know? You could tell me what to do." Despite her
words, she couldn't keep the expression of disgust off her face.

"No!" I said. "Out of the question. This man is evil! He'll
probably kill us both no matter what we do."

"I would never hurt Angela," whispered the voice. "You know what
to do, Sterling. Just push your penis into her, that's all you
need to do. She's willing now. What a kind, compassionate girl!"
 
"No!"

I felt the drug creeping up my leg. It hurt. It burned and itched
and at the same time was ice cold, like death itself.

"Angela, turn away, OK? Try to relax, cover your ears."

"Sterling, shouldn't we?" she said, plainly very anxious. "I am
11, you know, things are changing down there."

"No! Please, I could never live with myself -- but it's very
thoughtful of you."
 
Angela turned away.

The pain built, the pain and the cold, slowly. My pelvis was now
cold -- except my cock. I groaned and swore.

Angela turned back over to look at me. I didn't have the strength
to insist she turn away again.

"Sterling!" she said.

I started crying weakly.

"Oh, Sterling, you're not going to, you know, do anything? And
just die?"

"No! Yes!" I shouted.

"What can I do for you?" Angela asked softly, tears in her eyes.
She hugged me -- pure affection.

I thought. "Could you ... sing for me?" I gasped.

"Yes! That's one thing I can do! Sing what?"

"Do you know.... 'Abide With Me'? It's a hymn."

"Yes, I know it... Oh, Sterling!" she said.

"Just sing... please?" My chest hurt, but my cock was hard and
warm, seemingly more sensitive than ever as it lay against
Angela's thigh. Angela was so warm, so soft. To make the pain
stop, all I had to do was... No!

Then, in the intimate space of our padded box came that haunting
voice:

"_Abide with me, fast falls the eventide._"

The drug was taking me away -- such pain. But I had an angel
holding me and singing for me.

"_The darkness deepens, Lord with me abide._"

I nearly fainted with agony, then came to again. Throughout, just
as promised, my cock was hard.

"_When other helpers fail..._"

I was fading, but rose back to consciousness long enough to hear,
"_Help of the helpless, Lord, abide with me._"

A warm girl was hugging me, an angel of a girl, and she was
singing directly into my ear with infinite sweetness. It hurt
like hell, but there were worse ways to go.

---------------------------------------------------------

I woke in a hospital. It took a minute for the memories to come
back.

I pushed my call button and asked the first person who came in,
"Is Angela OK? Did Angela make it out OK?"

The orderly disappeared and returned with the shift nurse. "Mr.
Smith, the police say Angela is safe and back at home with her
family."

"What happened?"

"I really don't know; the police didn't say."

I couldn't get any more detail from anyone, however.

Physically my recovery was quick. The agents causing my intense
pain apparently cleared from my body without lasting harm. But
the doctor kept me for a second night to be sure.

An officer escorted me directly from the hospital to the police
station. A detective showed me into a small conference room.

"Ah, Mr. Smith. A very unusual case ... Tell me what you
remember."

"I woke up in that padded box with Angela Soprano -- both naked.
The box started rotating and stopping, over and over. Then
someone grabbed my foot and restrained it and I felt a needle --
an IV, it felt like. Then a lot of pain. Angela sang to me.
That's the last thing I remember."

"Yes, all true. About five minutes after you lost consciousness,
the top of the padded box opened. Angela found her way out of the
sub-basement where you were being held and got help for you."
 
I gave a sigh of relief.
 
"Is she OK? It must have been terrifying for her."
 
"A pair of women detectives interviewed her. She was emotional
and embarrassed at times, but she gave a clear story. Her family
reports she is doing OK. She was concerned about you, and we've
told her you've made a full recovery." He paused. "You left a lot
out of your account, and so did Angela. We know that because the
whole thing was recorded with multiple cameras and audio feed."
 
"Oh," I said, turning red, but decided to press on. I hadn't done
anything wrong -- had I? "So...They just let Angela go when I
wouldn't do what they wanted, and they weren't going to kill me?
They were bluffing?"
 
"Ummm, no, I wouldn't say that. You would have died."

"What happened?"

"Well, Angela is a remarkable girl."

"Yes?"

The detective paused briefly. "I'm really not supposed to do
this, but would you like to see the recordings? That will explain
it."

"Yeah, definitely!"

"Angela doesn't know it was recorded. Since she's a minor, we
discussed the issue with her parents and they agreed it would be
just as well if she never finds out."

"OK."

"But I think you'll find it interesting," he said, trying to
suppress a smile.

He ushered me into a booth containing just a computer
workstation, then showed me how to operate the software. There
had been a dozen tiny cameras hidden in the walls and ceiling,
capturing what happened from every point of view. He told me to
take as long as I liked, then left me alone.
 
---------------------------------------------------------

I heard the conversation just as I remembered it. The cameras
didn't show anything until the lights came on, naturally. I got
to see Angela turn away from me at the same time I turned away
from her. I saw her body from various angles as we tumbled around
and as we lay talking. I saw my foot grabbed, yanked, and
restrained. I shuddered to recall the pain. Angela's voice was
beautiful even with the poor  quality of the recording as she
sang out the last line, "_I triumph still if Thou abide with
me._"
 
"Sterling?" she asked a few seconds after she finished her song,
coming back into present time from that reverie she enters when
she sings. When I didn't answer, she asked louder and shook me.
 
"Nooo, don't die! Gosh darn it!" The look of anguish on her face
was unmistakable.

"Can he still be saved?" she asked the wall. There was no answer.
"Can he? Can *I* save *him*?" She looked panicked. "God damn it!"
she said.

I saw her bite her lip, then saw her draw back out of my embrace
a little and look at my slack face intently. She then brushed her
hand slowly down my chest, stopping at each nipple. When she
reached my erect cock she grasped it gently, then released it.
Then she reached down between her legs. She opened her labia with
her fingers and poked around, though obviously the cameras
couldn't capture what was happening inside.
 
She jockeyed her body around to position my still-hard penis tip
right between those pussy lips as we lay side by side.
 
"I'm sorry, Sterling," she whispered. "I know you didn't want to
do this, but you're not awake. I hope you can forgive me -- and I
hope God forgives me," she said earnestly. But then she got a
gleam in her eye and added, "But you really did want to, right?
Yes you did!"
 
The gleam faded as she began forcing my penis into her vagina. I
watched her facial expression intently. There was surprise and
concentration mixed in with winces of pain, but what I latched on
to eagerly was the trace of a smile.
 
After thirty seconds or so, she had managed to engulf three
inches of my penis.
 
Then her eyes went wide with surprise. My hips began thrusting
gently. After 10 seconds and a final thrust, my whole body
relaxed. My unconscious face was troubled with pain throughout,
but it lessened at what was apparently my orgasm. There was no
hint that I had regained consciousness at any point.
 
A few seconds after I relaxed came the sound of locks clicking.
 
Angela pushed up with one hand and the ceiling panel moved.
"Yes!" she said with relief. But she didn't scramble out right
away. She clutched me to her tightly, then looked down to our
junction and tentatively thrust her own hips back and forth,
causing my penis to slide in and out a few more times before
pulling our bodies apart.
 
One camera angle showed her looking at my still-hard penis
sliding out of her, gobs of semen plainly visible.
 
After a few more seconds of looking between her legs in wonder,
Angela came out of her reverie and scrambled out of the padded
room.
 
There was a camera showing the outside as well. Her nightclothes
and mine were both there on a bench. She looked at the goop
between her legs. She wabbed my pajamas into a ball to wipe
between her legs, but paused at the last moment and then put them
carefully back on the bench.  She pulled up her panties, then
made a face and pulled them down again to see the smear of semen
on them. Then she shrugged and pulled them up once more. She put
on her nightgown.

Before she left she looked in for several seconds at my
unconscious form. When I stirred and moaned, she smiled, and then
she was gone.
 
Once I knew how it all turned out, I rewound and played the scene
over and over again, attending to the different angles.

As I saw her gorgeous girl's body, naked and so close to mine, I
got very hard. I deserved my own set of angel wings, I decided,
for resisting her while I was conscious. Her body was more
perfect and sexy than I had ever imagined, her expressive face
making her incredibly alluring as it went through her range of
emotions -- even fear and anxiety.

And then to see her decide to have sex with me anyway to save my
life -- it was astounding and very erotic. She had layer upon
layer of reasons not to want sex with me, but once she decided
she needed to, she did it. And instead of going through the
motions with gritted teeth and no emotion, she could also keep
contact with her intense adolescent curiosity.

I had slept right through it!

---------------------------------------------------------

"Thanks for showing me," I told the detective, a little
embarrassed.

"We arrested the guy who did it," he said. "We should have no
problem getting a conviction. You are the victim of a very
serious crime -- attempted murder. Ordinarily we would prosecute
without hesitation. If you or Angela wants us to, we will.

"But we have a dilemma. The defense will undoubtedly want to show
that video in court. They will insist on putting you and Angela
on the stand. She and her parents are still debating what they'd
like to do. If they'd rather drop it, what would you do?"

"I'd let it drop, of course," I said. "I couldn't expose Angela
to that sort of publicity. It would be pretty embarrassing for
me, too."

"I thought you'd see it that way."

"Any chance that guy just might die under mysterious
circumstances?" I asked with anger.

The detective just smiled. "I think he'll plea bargain to
probation. We'll be watching him in any case.

"Um, are there any possible charges against me?"

"No. Even if you'd penetrated her when you were conscious, you'd
be off the hook because you were being coerced, but we certainly
don't hold a person responsible for what they do when they're
unconscious.

"Maybe you're a dirty old man," he said with a smile, "but
getting an erection isn't a crime. You must have shared your
fantasies somewhere?"

"Yeah, online," I said. "I thought it was private..."

"People always do," said the detective and shook his head.

As I thought things through, I started feeling a little more
relaxed. I had acted honorably when faced with great temptation.
Angela had come out of it alive. It would be traumatic for her,
undoubtedly, but would it have been any less traumatic to lie
next to a corpse for a few minutes? Instead, she had taken
action. She had chosen to lose her virginity with me to save my
life.

"Um... Is there any chance I could get a copy of the video?" I
quickly added: "You know, to help myself come to terms with what
happened to me?"

The detective laughed. "No. It is child porn -- child porn that
could command a very high price. We think we've got all the
copies. The perpetrator says he has copies with friends, but he
may just be making that up as a point to bargain with. If he does
and it gets released, he's going to jail for life and he knows
it."

"Could I watch it again?" I asked. "To understand the terrible
things that happened to me?" I couldn't help but smile a little.

"Sure," he said. "Take as long as you like. Oh -- here's a box of
tissues in case it makes you cry," he said with a smirk.

============================================================

What did you think? I'm always eager for comments, whether
positive, negative or mixed. Comments to sterling27@live.com.