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Subject: Starlet Slave 0-5
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Moderator's note ------
This got caught in a mail problem somewhere and may be a duplicate.
Itf not, it was delayed a few days.
------ end note
THE STARLET SLAVE
Joy Paine
Foreword.
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
CONTENTS
I have included after each chapter name the index word for any unusually
"high point" in the chapter. I'd appreciate comments on the usefulness of
this feature.
1. The Escape search
2. Fraternity Party college slaves gangbang
3. The Party Gets Rough squeezed tits gangbang
4. The Grand Finale tit clamps lesbian rape torture
5. Caught! (none)
6. The Examination strip
7. Spanked spanking
8. A Plucked Duck spanking rape
9. Defloration (none needed)
10. The Persuader the Persuader enema
11. Getting Ready first customer performance grades
12. Starting Out humiliation and torture
13. Tamed oral rape
14. Terms of Slavery witness to sodomy
15. In the Trade (none)
16. Invitation (none)
17. Come to the Party (none)
18. Snappy Clothes snappy lingerie
19. A Real Bitch (none)
20. Free (none)
21. The Promised Land (none)
22. The Verdict (none)
23. A New Beginning (none)
==========================================
THE STARLET SLAVE 1
Joy Paine
Index words: search s#
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
1. The Escape
Thank God, Ellen thought. Finally, things may be going my way for a
change.
Who would have expected to find a police cruiser in this remote corner of
Beverly Hills at this time of night? Or any car at all, for that matter?
And believe me, she thought, I'd be glad to take my chances with a
stranger -- any stranger at all -- rather than to depend on the mercy of
that leering pack of rapists back there.
She was acutely aware of the bizarre figure she must present, hair awry
and flying
in the wind, halter and mini-skirt torn from that frantic escape down the
trellis.
Heedless of personal safety, she hurled herself into the path of the
patrol car,
flagged it to a screeching halt.
The lone officer got out warily, pistol drawn. "OK, miss," he barked.
"Both
hands on the car, and spread your legs."
Ellen debated for a moment whether to try to talk him out of frisking
her.
What the Hell, she thought. She could hardly blame him. She must look
like
a fugitive from the funny farm, or worse. And it would probably take
longer
to argue him out of it than it would to make the search. If only he
wouldn't
take so much time about it.
"Please make it quick," she begged. "They can't be far behind."
s#
Well, maybe he wasn't quick, but he was pretty goddamned thorough. When
Ellen commented acidly on the great time he must be having, the cop
grinned. "Just following regulations, lady," he answered. "You'd be
surprised at where some broads will stash a gun or a knife. And you must
admit that I have some grounds for suspicion, the way you look.
"Of course, if I had known that you weren't wearing a bra or panties . .
.
well, anyway, I know now," he finished happily.
"OK now -- what brings you out here this time of night, looking like
this?"
Ellen tried to impress the officer with the urgency of the situation.
"Please," she breathed desperately, "help me to get out of here. I'm
being
chased by a pack of wolves."
The officer chuckled. "Look, lady, the only kind of wolf this side of the
zoo is the two-legged variety."
"That's the kind I mean," Ellen all but screamed. "I'm sure that they've
missed me by now. Please -- just take me anywhere -- get me out of here!"
Her voice, rising in panic, finally stirred the policemen to action.
"OK, lady, I'll go along for the ride. Or maybe I should say that you can
come along for the ride. I guess I can risk enough of the taxpayers'
money
to take you downtown, at least.
"But if this is a trick . . ." He let the sentence hang ominously. "OK,
climb in the back."
"In the back?" Ellen's dismay showed in her voice. "Why can't I ride in
front with you, instead of like a prisoner? After all, you frisked me,
and
you know that I can't hurt you"
"Regulations, lady," he explained. "And not so stupid, either. How
do I know you don't have a weapon up your snatch? Or that you won't grab
the steering wheel when we get into traffic? No, doll -- if you're going
to ride with me, you're going to sit in the back behind the screen, so I
know that I'll be safe."
Ellen could see that she wouldn't be able to change his mind. And she was
just wasting precious time by arguing. She climbed into the back seat,
heard him close the self-locking door behind her. At least those drooling
rapists couldn't get her now.
But she still held her breath until the car put precious miles behind
them,
finally pulled to the curb in a well-lighted part of town.
"OK, honey," the officer turned around. "Let's hear your story."
Ellen's words tumbled all over each other. "This -- this pack of men. I
was
going to be their sport for the night. They were going to -- to sodomize
me."
"Hold it!" the policeman interrupted. "You're talking too fast. And
hysterically. You've got to calm down, talk rationally enough so I can
decide whether to take you into custody as a mental case, or accept your
story and start a wolf hunt.
"Suppose you back up a bit. Tell me how you got into this situation in
the
first place. Here . . ." He drew a tape recorder from the glove
compartment,
held the microphone up to the screen, near Ellen's lips. Suppose you take
it from the top."
Ellen drew a deep breath, forced herself to relax.
=========================================================
THE STARLET SLAVE 2
Joy Paine
Index words: slaves #s gangbang #g
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
2. The Fraternity Party
It all started (she began) that night in the fraternity house. I was
going with Jeff then, and things were pretty close between us. All
right, so I was living with him. What the Hell, all the girls in
college were doing it. I'd lost it in high school, anyway.
Jeff was pretty demanding. He said that he wasn't going to let me ride
on his coattails around the college social circles unless I put out
for him regularly. So living with him seemed the easiest way.
It wasn't much fun with Jeff, though. He didn't give a damn about a
girl's needs -- all he wanted was to get his gun and then roll over
and go to sleep. But on the other hand, he wasn't kinky, either. Oh,
he used to grab my tits once in a while, and pretend to squeeze them,
but never to the point where it hurt very much. And you can be sure
that I didn't give him any encouragement in that direction.
#s
All in all, I considered myself pretty lucky. After all, some of the
girls were little more than slaves to their boy friends. And some of the
boys used to make their girls do things like sit with their hands folded
in their laps while the boy friend pinched their tits -- hard -- in
public. Just as a sign of obedience.
Well, there was this fraternity party to honor Larry, one of their big
shot alumni. Spell that "big shit" in view of later developments.
Anyway, Larry was a talent scout for some Hollywood movie company, and
you can just bet that all the girls were drooling over him. He was a
real smooth article -- he would have gotten the girls' attention even
without the Hollywood connection. As it was . . . You know how college
girls feel about the chance of getting into the movies. No matter what
the price, or how slim the chance.
Well, they were telling the story around of how Larry had "discovered"
a girl waiting on table in some hick town, and talked her into leaving
with him for Hollywood that very night. And she had become a big star
within six months. Of course, she'd had to sleep with Larry, and with
who knows who else, but what the Hell. That's the way things are done.
Everybody knows that. And it wouldn't be all that bad sleeping with
Larry. As to the who knows who else, who knows?
Well, Jeff started kidding me about maybe that would happen to me, and
asked me to promise that if I had any luck like that, I'd give him one
last lay before I went, for old times' sake. Well, what the Hell, I
can go along with a gag. It wasn't going to happen to me, for sure. And
after all, I was putting out for him every night, anyway, so why the
Hell not?
So believe it or not, Larry did take a shine to me, and finally asked
if I wouldn't want to go back to Hollywood with him. Boy, would I ever!
I told him there wasn't anything on earth I wouldn't do for a chance
like that, and he said OK let's go. By then, I began to think he was
maybe serious.
So he said I realized, of course, that I'd have to be his mistress for
a while (such a cute romantic word for it) and then sleep around in the
proper Hollywood circles. And I said sure, I was grown up and knew the
score. So he asked if I was ready to go tonight, and I said yeah, not
sure whether he was kidding or not.
And then came the howler. He said that he had made sure that the
fraternity "cunt room" wasn't in use at the moment, and why didn't we
go up and seal the bargain with a kiss, so to speak?
Well, I still didn't know but maybe it was all a trick to get into my
pants, but Larry was a pretty smooth article, and I was a bit drunk,
and what the Hell?
There was even a chance, I told myself, that Larry would be a better
lover than Jeff.
What a dreamer! If anything, he was even more perfunctory. He made me
suck him up a little before he started, and then it was just WHAM! BAM!
Thank you, ma'am.
After he finished, he said why didn't I use the en suite bathroom of
the "cunt room", and he'd take his clothes down the hall to the
bathroom there.
So I was just lying there trying to get over the frustration of being
left up in the air, and wondering whether maybe I should try to cool
myself down with a finger fuck, when Jeff walked into the room!
#g
I assumed that he had seen me and Larry head for the "cunt room", and
had just waited for us to finish. After all, he would have known we
were through when Larry walked out with his clothes over his arm. Well,
Jeff reminded me of my promise to give him one last fuck, and handed me
a douche bag, all loaded and ready to go. Talk about taking a girl for
granted!
I should have thrown it in his face, but what the Hell. After all, I had
promised, whether I had meant it or not. And I was feeling pretty horny
after Larry-the-rabbit's performance and -- well, what the Hell.
I found out -- afterwards -- that the "cunt room" was fitted out with all
sorts of television cameras, and that the whole gang -- boys and girls --
had been sitting at the TV in the rec room watching me entertain Larry
and
Jeff. And making video tapes of the performance.
Like I say, I learned this afterwards. At the time, it seemed like a rare
coincidence that the four guys walked into the room just after Jeff had
shot his load. Not too soon to spoil Jeff's fun, but while his body was
still pinning me to the bed.
And they knew just what they were going to do. Probably they had
rehearsed
it all before, with other girls.
The four guys just grabbed my arms and legs and held me there, while Jeff
grinned and wrapped his big hands around my tits and squeezed, hard
enough
to hurt. And then he made me an offer I would have been delighted to
refuse.
Since it was my last night in town, he said, didn't I think it would be a
nice gesture if I were to put out for these fine loyal fraternity
brothers
of his, who had waited so patiently for this moment.
Well, I wasn't really feeling that generous. The effects of the alcohol
had pretty much worn off by that time, whether it was from the exercise,
or the passing of time, or the pain, or just the grossness of Jeff's
suggestion. No more what the Hell. I told Jeff in no uncertain
terms what he could do with his proposition. And then I spat in his face.
======================================================
THE STARLET SLAVE 3
Joy Paine
Index words: squeezed s# gangbang g#
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
3. The Party Gets Rough
There's an old African proverb that says that you should never slap a
woman's face while she has your prick in her mouth. Well, the same thing
goes if a guy is squeezing your tits. Jeff muttered that he could see
that
I needed a lesson in obedience. And then he started squeezing for real.
s#
One of the fellows holding my arms held a pillow over my mouth to stifle
my screams. And you can bet that I did scream. By the time that bastard
had squeezed my knockers for a couple of seconds, I was ready to do
anything he wanted. Anything at all. But he didn't give me a chance
say so, of course. He was was having too goddamn much fun. He kept up
the pressure until I was sure I was going to faint, and then he let up
for a moment. But just for a moment. And then he set up a sort of rhythm
--
squeeze and relax and squeeze again -- that hurt even worse.
And he was getting a real kick out of it. I could feel his prick getting
hard inside me. And then he kept up that damned rhythmic squeezing until
my squirming made him come.
Then he started whispering in my ear, just lying there inside me,
punctuating his words with more of those damned squeezes. He told me I
could nod if I agreed with him. And believe me, I nodded pretty damned
enthusiastically. No more of that squeezing for me, thank you.
Jeff told me that I was going to put out for all the boys -- not just the
four that were holding me down, but a real gang bang. But that wasn't
all.
After the guys had finished with me, he pointed out, they wouldn't have
much strength left to satisfy their dates. So didn't I think it was only
fair that I should French the girls as well?
Fair? Shit, it was about the foulest thing that I could imagine,
especially
since I knew that they'd be taking pictures of the whole orgy, and who
knows where they'd be showing the pictures around afterwards. But I
wasn't
in any position to protest in the slightest. I just nodded my head as if
he were inviting me to the prom.
g#
When Jeff had finally finished with the lesson, the four guys holding me
marched me into the bathroom. One of them held my arms behind my back,
and
two of the others pried my legs apart, pinching my clit when I resisted.
And the fourth did the honors with the douche bag.
Then back to bed.
I got to know that path between the cunt room and the bathroom pretty
damned well over the next couple of hours. I'm sure that every guy in the
house fucked me at least once, and I counted at least three that came
back
for seconds. More of them probably, but I lost count. Like the guy says,
they all look alike in bed.
And Jeff wasn't kidding abut the girls, either. They didn't all want to
be Frenched, but they were all delighted to watch, and four of them had
me eat them, while a couple of the guys paddled me, and did other cute
little things, like sticking their fingers into my cunt and asshole.
Thank
God they didn't fuck my butt, though. I know that I would have just died
if they had.
=====================================================================
THE STARLET SLAVE 4
Joy Paine
Index words: tit clamps c# lesbian rape l# torture t#
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
4. The Grand Finale
Finally (Ellen continued) the guys started talking about what they could
do for a "grand finale". Some of their suggestions were pretty far out,
and I couldn't tell whether the guys were seriously considering them, or
whether they were just trotting the ideas out for the thrill of talking
about them. I'm sure that those bastards suggested some of the more
revolting ideas just to get a rise out of me.
At least, I hope so.
And believe me, if that's what they meant to do, it worked. With the guys
as drunk as they were, and after the sadistic things they had dome while
they raped me, I wouldn't have been surprised if they had gone ahead with
even the kinkiest of ideas. Cute little tricks, like hanging me up by the
tits, or sticking them full of pins. One guy even suggested cutting off
my nipples, to add to their "trophy collection".
Well, they finally decided that it was my turn to have a little "fun".
Since I had so kindly serviced the girls, they pointed out, it was only
fair that one of the girls should do me. On camera, of course.
c#
Well, the girl they nominated for the job didn't like the idea any better
than I did. Especially the part about the camera. But they knew how to
take care of a little detail like a girl's reluctance. She was already
naked -- she had stripped for her part in the girl-and-girl orgy that
they
had made me go through. So the guys brought out a cute little pair of
clamps that they fastened on the poor girl's tits, and buckled them on
with a set of straps. Just like a brassiere. And then they showed me how
I could increase the pressure whenever I wanted to, by pulling on a pair
of straps.
Like I said, I didn't want to do it. But the boys brought out another
pair of clamps to put on me if I didn't join in the fun. It would spoil
the plot of the movie, they admitted, but they could still make a pretty
good show out of it. Maybe they could shoot the original script later,
after I had learned the value of obedience.
And maybe they could stage a contest, to see which of us could stand the
most pain before blacking out.
l#
Well, I could tell by the way the poor little bitch was screaming that it
was hurting her badly -- probably much worse than Jeff's squeezing had
been. And believe me, I didn't want to invite that. And she was one of
those smart asses that had let me eat her pussy, so it would be only fair
that she should get some of her own medicine, I figured.
I guess that I was a little brutal, too, pulling on those straps even
when
she was doing her damnedest. But I kept thinking of all the pain and
humiliation those bastards had caused me, and took it out on the poor kid
that was servicing me.
I should have known better, of course.
In the first place, there wasn't a chance in Hell that I could enjoy sex
in that frame of mind, even though I'd often dreamed how great it would
be
to have somebody tonguing out my pussy.
And it only made things worse when the guys decided it was her turn
again.
t#
Yeah, I should have known. That bunch of sadists had stuck in that little
interlude just to make her mad at me, so she'd be even more creative
when they turned her loose on me. And just to make doubly sure, they left
the clamps on her tits, and now and then one of the boys would give a
little tug, just to inspire her to be more enthusiastic.
And she did herself proud. They didn't let her cut off my nipples, or
hang me all the way up by my tits, but they did help her to put the other
set of bra-clamps on me. And then she hoisted me up so I was standing on
tippy-toe, and tied those damned straps to a ring in the ceiling, so if
I leaned back to rest my legs a bit, or if I swayed a little, or even
took a deep breath, the pain in my tits was excruciating.
And they had all sorts of little tricks, like: can you imagine how a
sneeze would feel to someone trussed up the way I was? And did you ever
try to stifle a sneeze while some bastard tickled your nose with a
feather?
And then they brought out a little tray of pins, all nicely soaked in
alcohol, to prevent infection. Yeah, they were very careful about
infection. They even made her swab off my tits and cunt before she
stuck the pins in.
===============================================================
THE STARLET SLAVE 5
Joy Paine
Index words: (none)
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
5. Caught!
"Hold on a minute," the cop interrupted. "You say that you weren't a
virgin when you entered college?" Ellen nodded, a bit embarrassed at
being cross-examined on so intimate a subject.
"So tell me how you got started into sex", he went on.
Ellen actually blushed -- something that she hadn't done for a long
time. "It's a long story, and not exactly a pretty one. I don't think
that it really needs telling now."
"After all," the cop protested, "if I'm going to help you, I should
know the whole background of the matter. But if you don't want to
co-operate, I can take you back to where I found you. Maybe we can even
find the place you ran away from."
"No -- please don't," Ellen protested. What the Hell, she decided. I do
owe the guy something. And I may want him to do a lot more for me.
Starting
right now, by giving me his protection. And there's absolutely nowhere
else that I can go in this crummy town.
Yeah, she thought. Better to have him on my side. She moved up to the
microphone again.
Well, (she began) it started with that horrible Mr. Peck, the town
jeweler.
We girls used to joke among ourselves about what a Dirty Old Man he was
--
how he was always staring at the girls' tits. Especially the girls that
were built like me -- although there weren't very many of us that were,
come to think of it.
Some of the girls said that he used to try to cop a feel now and then,
although I never let him get near enough to try it with me. But the way
he
kept staring right through my blouse was just about as bad.
A lot of the kids used to call him "Old Pecker", or even "Peckerhead",
but I never used language like that in those days.
Well, some of my girlfriends told me once about the "get Peck" club that
they had organized, and I thought it was a great idea. Until they told me
about the entrance requirements for the club, that is.
The trick was to rip off a piece of jewelry from his store, and wear it
to club meetings as a sort of membership badge. It didn't have to be
expensive, or anything, just as long as it was stolen from Peck's store.
Now I come from a pretty straight-laced family, and the idea of stealing
didn't appeal to me -- even from a toad like Peck.
So the girls started teasing me. I didn't care so much about the ethics
of the situation, they insisted -- I was just chicken. And in my heart,
I knew they were right. And I told myself it's just like the Bible says
--
if you sin in your heart, it's just as bad as if you really did it.
When the girls saw that I was weakening, they took another approach.
After
all, they teased, if I was really chicken, I could probably get Old
Pecker
to give me a piece of jewelry if I let him feel me up. A piece for a
piece,
sort of. We giggled a bit at that, and one of them suggested that even if
I did get caught, I could always buy him off by putting out for him.
I didn't think that was so funny -- even the slightest suggestion of
being
at the mercy of a monster like him sent chills up my spine. But then the
girls started joking about how useless he probably was in bed, and the
giggles took over again.
Anyway, I finally agreed to give it a whirl. The girls all told about
the
various techniques they had used to rip off their pieces of jewelry, and
we worked out a plan that we thought combined the best features of all of
them.
And as the day for the Dirty Deed approached, I got to feeling really
adventurous -- I just couldn't wait to try out my "foolproof" system.
Here's the way we worked the scam: we all went into the shop together,
and asked Peck to show us an assortment of cheap pins. And then the other
girls would get Peck to go down to the other end of the shop, where they
would keep him busy (maybe even by rubbing up against him, one of them
suggested) while I pinned one of the brooches to the inside of my
sweater,
where it wouldn't show. Then I would rearrange the ones that were left on
the tray, so he wouldn't notice that one of them was missing. Meanwhile,
the girls would give a signal if Peck happened to turn his attention in
my direction. And when everything was ready, I was going to join the
other
girls, tell Peck thanks but I didn't see anything I wanted, and we'd all
walk out together.
And in my mental rehearsals, I could even picture myself twitching my ass
triumphantly as I walked away. I knew that Peck would be watching.
And everything worked perfectly, down to the moment when I walked back to
the end of the shop where the other girls had steered Peck. And then I
knew that something had gone wrong. The other girls were gone! And Peck
was leering at me, as if he knew some dirty secret.
And then I saw it. On the counter behind Peck was a TV monitor, showing
the exact area of the store where I had just been. And the tray of pins
was still in the picture, just where I had left it.
Peck licked his lips, and gave a nervous little giggle. "I've been having
trouble with shoplifters," he smirked, "so I had this little detector
installed. And it looks as if I caught one. I've got it all on videotape,
too, so I have a permanent record of your little escapade."
His hand went to my sweater, where I had hidden the pin -- and I knew
that
it was no accident that his fingers brushed my nipple. "Maybe you'd like
to step into my office and talk about it?" he said in a voice that fairly
dripped with oil. "Or should we call the police right away?"
He had me, and we both knew it. Shit, I didn't want to go to jail. I
burst
out crying. "I take it that this means you'd rather explore ways that we
can keep the authorities out of it?" I nodded desperately. "OK", he
crooned, "I'll put up the OUT TO LUNCH sign, and we can go into my
private office and talk it over."
--
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