Excerpt from: Their Sex Slave Celebrity

 

'The car is here, Miss Bell,' Louise called out.

Tamara came down the stairs of her secluded country house, situated just outside rural Brimley in Hampshire, to see a smart uniformed chauffer with a stylishly-trimmed beard and tinted glasses, carrying their bags out through the open front door. A gleaming Rolls with tinted back windows was parked in the driveway.

'Well, I must say they're not stingy,' Tamara admitted, impressed despite herself.

She had been engaged to test-host a new action challenge game format, which was undergoing trial runs and sampling audience approval. Because of commercial sensitivity concerning new and potentially highly lucrative media formats, it was all being conducted in a highly secretive manner. It was all nonsense in Tamara's private opinion, but they were willing to pay well for her services.

'That's because you're a very valuable potential asset to them, Miss Bell,' Louise pointed out.

Tamara smiled at her PA's flattering assessment of her, but there was some truth in what she said.

Tamara was thirty-four, cool, professional and self-assured. She could read news with authority, compere in an easy-going manner and be a bright amusing talk-show guest. She had a good womanly figure, a distinctive shaggy mane of blonde hair, creamy skin, a high intelligent forehead, deep set pale blue eyes, pale level brows, a firm straight nose and shapely lips.

By contrast, Louise Cooper was twenty-two and of a petite build. She had a bright, helpful if slightly nervous manner. She had short, pixie cut brunette hair, an elfin face, a slightly up-tilted nose and intelligent brown eyes. Her large black rimmed specs made her look a little owlish, but in the two years that she had worked for Tamara, she had proved herself to be very efficient. She was also painfully formal in an endearing, if somewhat old-fashioned manner.

'All right, are we ready to go and play games for a week?' Tamara asked.

'Mrs Ridgeway knows we'll be away,' Louise said, referring to their live-out housekeeper. 'The alarms are set, I've arranged all the usual forwarding, and everybody who needs to know has been notified. I can handle anything else online,' she promised, clutching her laptop case.

'Then let's go,' Tamara said.

They left the house and climbed into the Rolls, with the chauffeur holding open the doors for them. As they made themselves comfortable in the back, Tamara saw there was a bottle of good quality champagne on ice in a cooler. There was a card with it.

For Miss Tamara Bell and Companion, with the compliments of TBAS Productions.

'I've never heard about TBAS before this. Has Gerry said anything more about them?'

Gerald Dawlish was her agent.

'No, Miss Bell. But he must have approved them.'

'They do have style, which is a start, I suppose.'

The car pulled silently out of the driveway onto the road.

'Shall I pour some out, Miss Bell?' Louise asked.

'Why not, as it's free...'

Louise poured out a couple of glasses and they sipped as the countryside rolled silently past them.

'You didn't have any more updates on this show?' Tamara asked.

'No, Miss Bell. Just the project codename: TNC Trial 1. I suppose they don't want to risk any details getting out too soon. I'm sure we'll find out more when we get there.'

'We'd better, or else I'm going to look very foolish,' Tamara chuckled.

'Oh, you could never look foolish, Miss Bell,' Louise said sincerely. 'More champagne...?'

'I suppose just one more won't hurt... thanks... mmm... this is good. But one day, if companies get any more paranoiac about intellectual property rights, I'll be standing there in front of an audience saying that I've no idea what's meant to happen now because they wouldn't tell me, so have you any suggestions?'

Louise laughed and so did Tamara. Yes, that was a funny idea. But not entirely crazy...

Ohhh... she suddenly felt dizzy. Maybe that second glass of champagne had been a mistake. Perhaps she could have a quick snooze now, so she'd be fresh and bright when they got... wherever they were going...

* * *

Tamara woke feeling sick and confused.

She could hear muffled voices all around her and a feeling of being touched repeatedly. Were they there yet? This was terribly unprofessional. She must pull herself together...

And then she discovered that she couldn't do any such thing. In fact, she could hardly move. She was spread out wide and suspended in some manner that in her addled state she could not quite make sense of. And there was something stuffed in her mouth that she could not spit out and something pressing against her lips. And for some reason she was totally naked...

That last realisation shocked her into full wakefulness. She blinked the crusts from her eyes and she made them focus and looked about her.

She was spread out on a wooden frame in the shape of a capital H. Her arms and legs were stretched out wide and her wrists and ankles were secured by heavy straps to the top and bottom ends the frame, which was hung just clear of the ground between two short stout side posts set on a wheeled trolley base. The crossbar of the H passed behind the hollow of her back and she was strapped to it with a heavy belt.

And the muffled voices came from a small group of people milling about her. They were seven of them and they were all wearing blue boiler suits with stick-like things hung on holsters from their belts. Their heads were covered with an assortment of rubber masks of celebrities, animals and creatures from horror stories. And they were prodding and pawing her all over and taking pictures of her with phones and cameras. Selfies of them with her stark naked and completely exposed!

Regular workouts had preserved Tamara's supple, well-toned figure. Her prominent rounded breasts were tipped by brown nipples. She had a tight waist, feminine hips and smooth full buttocks. A delta of thin blonde pubic hair crowned her pouting inner labia.

That all this was appreciated by her audience was demonstrated by the fact that they all had stiff penises jutting out of the open flies of their boiler suits.

Her stomach knotted up and she squirmed and moaned in fear.

'She's coming around now,' somebody said.

The space beyond the crowd was coming into focus, and with a shock she saw Louise.

She was also naked and gagged by some sort of strap across her lips and seemed to be half conscious. Her small body, looking very vulnerable, was restrained by a set of slave chains. She was huddled at the base of a big colourful gameshow type spinner wheel, with odd symbols around its perimeter.

For the first time, Tamara saw that Louise had small, high, neatly-rounded breasts with pinkish brown nipples. She had a tiny waist and slight hips, pale, tightly-rounded buttocks, and dark pussy curls trimmed back from the mouth of her pubic cleft. She still had her spectacles on, which somehow made her look even more naked.

As she looked beyond Louise, the glare of many floodlights stung Tamara's eyes.

They were in some lofty space surrounded by construction site style metal mesh temporary fencing panels. Sheets of black plastic sheeting hung outside the fence, concealing whatever lay beyond it. On the inside, the fence panels had been hung with painted stage flats of crowds sitting in stands, suggesting a kind of miniature arena. There were even wood chippings and sawdust on the floor, like a circus ring.

And then she saw a big sign hung on top of the fencing: TAMARA'S NAKED CHALLENGE

Oh God!

One of the boiler suited men was pinching and slapping her to get her still confused and sluggish attention. He had a hideous Donald Trump mask over his head that seemed to leer at her.

'Tamara... Tamara, can you hear me? I know you're confused but I'll explain. Listen to me. I'm Don, and this is Kim, and Elvis, Joker, Chimp, Piggy and Grim Reaper...'

He indicated the boiler suited men with the matching masks on. They waved back.

'We are the Tamara Bell Appreciation Society, and I think we can claim to be your biggest hard-core fans.' He slapped his stiff penis. 'Literally, as you can see...'

Tamara gurgled and shook her head in queasy disgust and bewilderment. Don continued.

'But we were disappointed when you stopped compering The Labyrinth Race. You made that show work, and we really missed seeing you on our screens every week. And then, in one of our regular meetings, we started wondering: why couldn't Tamara star in our show? So, we set ourselves up like a proper production company and pitched for you to take part in the trial of a new game format. This will be our own private performance to film and keep. Now, I know it's not what you imagined you were coming here for, but it is a gameshow with a novel format and you are very definitely its star!'

Tamara snivelled and shook her head again. They were all completely crazy!

'Now please don't worry that we're going to do you any serious harm,' Don assured her. 'Well, not much, but it wouldn't be fun otherwise, would it? And if you play the games by our rules, then you win the final prize: you go back home safe and sound! That's something worth playing for, isn't it? Meanwhile, Louise here will keep up communications with your agent and so on via rerouted Wi-Fi, so that everything will seem perfectly normal. And of course, nobody knows where you are, so nobody is going to interfere. We are going to have such fun!'

The other masked men cheered. They sounded as though they really believed it!

'I know this must all seem a bit frightening,' Don continued, 'but please take it as a sincere compliment. After all, you can't be as lovely and talented as you are without having people fall in love with you. And that mean you owe them something in return.'

They were all totally obsessed, Tamara thought in horror. She gurgled and whimpered and shook her head and moaned urgently, until Don asked:

'Do you want to say something?'

She nodded.

'You know that calling for help will be a waste of time, because there's nobody but us to hear you. And don't threaten us with the police, because even if you tell them afterwards - and there are good reasons why you won't - they'll never catch us. We've got all this very well-planned, you see.'

Perhaps they had. And it was all terrifying and almost too much to take in, and she was only hanging onto her composure by a thread, but she had to speak.

Don unfastened the strap bound across her lips and pulled the rubber plug that had been filling her mouth, out from between her teeth.

Tamara took a deep breath, marshalling everything she had learned about keeping her cool no matter what the situation.

'Maybe you can bring us here without anybody knowing, but you can't make me play any kind of "games" to satisfy your twisted fantasies. I simply won't cooperate! I literally won't play ball, do you understand?'

Don shook his head sadly. 'That's where you're wrong Tamara. You will play our games...'

He pulled the device slung from his belt out of its holster and held it up for her to see. It was a small electric cattle prod. All the other men did the same. Then they crowded round her.

'This is just a demo of what will happen if you don't cooperate...'

And they jabbed the twin pronged tips of their cattle prods into her body.

Tamara shrieked as they flashed and crackled, and she felt jolt after jolt of horrific pain stabbing deep into her. They jabbed her breasts and stomach and up between her legs and into her bare buttocks. She convulsed and jerked frantically and helplessly, making the wooden frame to which she was bound creak and sway. One of the prod tips went up into the tender cleft of her pussy and filled it with flashes and burning pain. She lost control of her bladder and expelled a stream of hot pee onto the wooden platform under her.

After what seemed like an eternity of pain, the prods were withdrawn, leaving Tamara trembling and twitching spasmodically, while her mind fizzed and spun.

'It's more of that, or play along,' Don promised.

He stepped over to Louise, who had been watching all this in horror, and dragged her to her feet and pulled her with a clinking of chains up in front of Tamara.

'And if you still want to be brave, then we'll start on her.' He pushed the tip of his prod up into Louise's tight pussy cleft so hard that she whimpered. 'Do you want that?'

'No, no... please don't hurt her,' Tamara sobbed.

'Then will you be our star contestant and play our games?'

Tamara shuddered. 'Yes... all right,' she said brokenly.

She could see the mask wrinkle and could almost imagine the face under it had grinned. 'Good. Then let's start with the first game!'