SLAVES OF HOLLYWOOD 2 (9 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Mike led Kelly to his own room, somewhere in the maze that was the residential area. Once inside, he instructed her to kneel at the foot of his bed—something she did without question.
That’s better—she’s not trying to disobey any more--maybe she has learned something
, he studied her position, smiling when he saw that her knees were stretched widely apart and her eyes were carefully studying the floor between those knees—carefully not looking at his face or the room she was in.

Let’s see just how far she’s come!

“All right, slave.” He stepped in front of her, his mid-section right at the height of her head. “Let’s see how much you’ve learned.” He unbuckled his pants, let them fall at his feet and kicked them to the side of the room. “I had a little fun with you earlier—but now I’m ready for you to beg me to fuck you. First, though…” He looked down at her, saw that she was already trembling. “I want you to clean me off and help me get hard.” He dropped his underpants revealing his half-erect penis. “I want you to take me into your mouth and prepare me to fuck you.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her head up, making sure that she could see his member in front of her. “Do a good job and you will not be punished.” He stared down at her. “Fail to please me, and—well, you know what I can do.” He pulled at her hair, pushed out his midsection. “Go ahead—show me that you’re ready to be a good slave.”

Mike smiled as he watched her tremble as she decided what she should do. He knew that she was smart enough to know that she’d be punished if she didn’t do what he said—and imaginative enough to fear his punishments.

But she’s also terrified to take my penis in her mouth
, Mike knew her hesitation could be caused by nothing else.
It’s clear she’s never done that kind of thing before.

He smiled.
It’s time she learned how to please a man.

The ring gag made it impossible for her to close her lips around him—just as it made it impossible for her to bite him. It was that as much as anything that convinced her of the inevitability of what she had to do—she leaned forward, carefully allowing the male member to enter her virgin mouth through the metal ring.

She was surprised at just how big the penis was. It seemed to fill her mouth—and as she moved, it got bigger still, swelling inside her until it came close to choking her. She panicked momentarily—and tried to back away—but Mike’s grip on her hair made that impossible. He held her in place and deliberately pumped his hips to move inside her mouth.

“Use your tongue, slave!”

She shivered at the order—but moved her tongue around the side of his penis. It became even bigger and she began to wonder if she would choke.

But Mike wasn’t planning to stay inside that long. He pumped again, waited for her tongue to work on his foreskin, pumped a third time, pulling her hair to force her face right into his scrotum.
One more!

He pumped a final time—and let loose with a stream of cum.

Kelly was terrified. She
knew
that she was going to drown! She tried to pull back, tried to escape the liquid that was fast filling her mouth—but she was held fast—with no chance to move. Finally, in desperation, she swallowed--once, twice, a third time.

Then he pulled out and she was left with a mouthful of his semen. She looked around wildly, wondering if she could spit it out—but a glance at the form in front of her told her that she didn’t dare—and she swallowed once again.

“Not too bad, slave.” Mike released her hair, stroked her cheek. “Although you’re going have to learn to participate a bit more.” He smiled again, than nodded. “Okay,” he picked up the end of her leash. “On your feet.”

Numb, she struggled to come upright and unconsciously turned toward the doorway.

“No, slave, you’re not leaving yet.” He gave the leash a yank, directed her toward the king-sized bed that stood at one end of the room. “Onto the bed—now!”

She scrambled to obey, almost throwing herself onto the surface of the bed.

“On your back.” Mike watched as she rolled over. “Now spread your legs—just as you promised.”

She tried to move her legs apart—and found them locked in place by the hobble chain.
What do I do?
She moved her wide eyes to the man, tried to pleading with those eyes.
Please!
She moaned in the lowest tone she could manage.
Please—I’m trying! Don’t hurt me!

Mike smiled. “I see you’re trying.” He leaned over the end of the bed, released the hobble chain. “Wide apart now.”

Kelly complied, moving her feet as far apart as she could.

“Good.” Mike trapped her right angle, clipped the cuff to a short chain that was attached to the post at the lower end of the bed. He repeated that act with the left foot, fastening her legs to the bed, keeping them widely-spread. “That’s about right. Now…”

He stepped up alongside the bed, grabbed Kelly’s hair and pulled her upright. She winced but did her best to help him, her stomach muscles burning as she tried to sit up under her own power. “I see you want to help.” Mike unlocked the handcuff from her left hands, pulled her right hand all the way up, forcing her back down onto the bed and locked the now-open end of the handcuff to the right top post of the bed. “Good. Just stay still now.

He shifted to the left side, repeated the manoeuvre with a second pair of handcuffs—then stepped back to check out the result.

Megan Kelly was spread-eagled in the center of the bed, arms and legs pulled out and away from her, leaving her splayed out like a butterfly on a tray. She wasn’t trying to struggle with her bonds; she was just laying there, her eyes fixed on the man standing in front of her—a single, odd thought in her mind:
At least the bed is soft
.

“Just one thing left to do.” Mike took off his shirt, tossed it to the side. “You have to beg me to take you—just like you promised.” He sat down alongside her, looked her squarely in the eyes. “Come on—let’s see what your word is worth. Beg me.”

Kelly’s mind raced. The ring gag was still in her mouth, how could she speak? But one look at the man in front of her told her that he fully expected her to find a way—and would punish her if she didn’t.

“P...eez!” She forced the words past the gag. “P...eez ‘uk ee, A.sta!”

Mike smiled. “I can barely understand you, did you say ‘please fuck me, master?”

Kelly nodded her head as hard as she could: “YE...zz, A…sstaa!”

“That’s very nice of you, slave.” He turned himself onto the bed, positioning himself to thrust into her. “I think I will.”

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN – TWELVE HOURS TO CAPTURE

It took nearly three hours to get to the cutoff she had marked on her map. Traffic was nasty—snarled and slow—and Agent Kelly was fuming again as she finally came to the turn-off she needed.
Where do I go first?
She checked the map again. The house was up above her—just at the edge of the mountains.
I can check and be sure it’s the right house
. She shook her head.
No. I want—I
need
to know who owns it before I go there
—she turned toward the town indicated on the map.
According to this, the town seat is just up the road
. She glanced at her watch.
The Town Hall should be open for another hour or so…
She made up her mind; put her foot down on the gas pedal.
I’ll go there first.

She almost drove through Claytonsville before she realized she had reached it. The town was tiny—two blocks of wood-faced buildings, most of them holding stores of one kind or another. She pulled into a parking spot in the middle of the second block, ignoring the police station she saw across the street in favor of the sign that marked the building in front of her as the ‘City Hall’.

Inside, it took just a few minutes to find the office of the local Tax Collector. She flashed her badge and ID at the fat man behind the desk and asked him what she had come so many miles to know: “There’s a farmhouse up in the hill country—a big one with a barn.”

“Lots of farms up there, Ma’am.” The clerk shook his head at her statement. “Twenty or more—you’ll have to give me a little more information than that.”

“I don’t know too much more. I can point it out on a map…”

“Survey maps are locked up for the night. Can’t get ‘em out ‘til morning.”

Agent Kelly felt her face begin to grow hot:
this small-town bureaucrat is starting to piss me off!

“I can’t wait until morning. Perhaps if I showed you where the farm is?”

“Sorry—I really couldn’t tell anything from a map.”

“Hollywood!” She snapped her fingers as the thought hit her. “I think the farm is owned by a big shot from Hollywood!”
Harry Winston
, she told herself.
It must belong to Harry Winston!

“You’re talkin’ about Mr. Malcolm’s place!” The clerk started to nod. “He’s got a big place up there in the foothills—got a big barn too. I heard he planned to sell it, but with the economy the way it is…”

“You’re sure it belongs to this Malcolm—nobody else.”

“No Ma’am. Mr. Malcolm’s the only Hollywood type that owns any property around here. Everybody knows him—why he was up here just a couple of months ago and ran a couple of new films for the sheriff and all his deputies.” The man smiled. “Nice man.”

The timing’s right, but I haven’t come across anyone named Malcolm up to now …
Kelly’s brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of this new information. “Do you know what Mr. Malcolm does in Hollywood?” She hoped the answer might give her something to go on—anything.

“He’s a famous movie producer.” The clerk was clearly proud of the fact that his town had such a famous and successful man as even a part-time resident. “Makes films for all the big studios. When he was up here the last time—like I told you—he had meetings with a couple of other Hollywood big shots—a famous Cameraman—Willy or Villy or something like that.” The clerk stroked his chin. “And that other man—the big shot agent—Winston, Harry Winston.”

Kelly’s mind lit up as that final bit of info fell into place.
That’s the connection!
Harry Winston was working with this Malcolm and Willy—
they made the film together!
It all made sense!

“Thank you for your help,” she took a moment to shake the man’s hand, remembering what had happened with the College Professor—she didn’t want this man phoning the FBI offices and reporting her for being rude. “The Bureau appreciates it,” she leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “And we would appreciate it if you’d keep all this quiet for a while—until we finish our investigation.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The clerk’s eyes widened at her words. “I won’t tell a soul!”

“Thanks again,” Kelly pushed through the door, anxious to get a look at the house. “We’ll be in touch.”

I’ve got you, Harry Winston!
The thought reverberated through her mind as she headed for the car.
I’ve got you dead to rights!

She thought about calling Fanelli or Blanchette to tell them what she had discovered—but decided to wait until she had looked over the farmhouse. Once she was sure it was the right place, she would call for a forensics team—there was bound to be evidence all over the place—blood, semen—all kinds of things.

Agent Megan Kelly was smiling victoriously as she drove out of Claytonville and headed for the hills beyond

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Megan Kelly, slave, moaned softly as her master came inside her. The experience wasn’t like the rape he had perpetrated on her back in the torture chamber—she had taken no pleasure from his actions then—but now…

God, that felt good!
Her helplessness had enhanced her sensations, made her experience every thrust, every move of his penis inside her still-sore but very sensitive cunt.

She had actually managed to orgasm—only the second time in her life that had happened.

Do I enjoy being dominated? Am I really nothing more than a sex slave?
Her eyes closed as she contemplated her future.
Is this my life? Punishment—and pleasure?
She shook her head.
No! I can’t give up! The Bureau will find me—they know where I was—and Fanelli will be able to backtrack what I was doing. It’s only a matter of time…

A flash of pain drove through her breast and her eyes popped open to see the master flicking his finger at her still-sore nipple. “No time to sleep now, slave.” He smiled and slid up on the bed, kneeling over her face, his cock dripping leftover cum onto her chin. “I think I can go one more time—if you can use that mouth of yours to get me hard again.” He reached down, stroked her cheek—and was surprised when she responded by leaning into his touch. “Yes—I think we can both go one more time.” He settled over her face, grabbed a handful of hair and guided his flaccid member into her mouth. “Make it good, slave—and perhaps I’ll cancel one of the punishments you’re earned.” He smiled as her tongue ran over the side of his dick, cleaning and caressing. “Yes, make it good, slave.”