I asked my friends at the bordello to discretely find out where the actress stayed that me and my boyfriend had just taken advantage of a few days earlier, because I felt I wasn’t quite done with her, and the thought of turning a celebrity into my personal slut turned me on to no end. Plus, I had leverage on her, with all those compromising pictures I took on my phone.
So in the evening, I stood in front of her room at the hotel where she was staying, wearing a neat little leather corset I had borrowed from my friend Stef, with accompanying high leather boots, and just a loose orange batik dress over it, that gave me the look of a s/m hippie chick. I had grinned when I saw myself in the mirror of the elevator and couldn’t wait to see how she would react. Gently, I knocked on the door.
It took a while before she opened, looking out through a small cleft. She didn’t recognize me right away and asked: “Yes, what is it?” Instead of an answer I held up my phone with the picture of her face buried in my muff. Her eyes widened. “What the hell?” she asked. “Give me that!” She reached for my phone but I quickly withdrew it out of her reach. “It’s no use,” I said. “I’ve got copies of those stored in all kinds of places.”
She glared at me with narrow eyes. “What do you want?” she hissed under her breath. I smiled. “Well, I was just thinking about a continuation of our last encounter. You might not have tried everything I have to offer.” I put my hand on my hip and swayed a little provocatively. Reluctantly, she opened the door. “Come inside,” she said, “let’s not discuss this out here.”
I entered a nice, luxurious suite that had shopping bags and clothes strewn all over the place. Seems my American friend used her Europe trip as much for shopping in style as she did for fulfillment of her sexual fantasies. The actress apparently was just trying on dresses, wearing nothing but a sweet little pink babydoll dress with some feathers around the bust, which made her large, artificial breasts look like two giant eggs in a nest. Her bottle-red hair was again pulled up into a ponytail on top of her head, but looked unkept and messy, probably from changing in and out of all those clothes.
She walked over to a settee and rummaged through her handbag, pulling out her purse. “Here,” she said, handing me a hand full of money. “I’ll pay you. Just give me the pictures and don’t tell anyone about them.” I shrugged, taking a bank note and slipping it into the top of the corset. “I’ll take that for my expenses on the service I’ll provide to you,” I said, stepping closer to her until my face was just inches away from hers. Without her high heels she was considerably shorter than me and had to tilt her head back to meet my eyes. “Now tell me, did you enjoy me and my boyfriend.”
She opened her mouth, but didn’t answer right away and only swallowed, licking her lips. “I...” she stammered, “I ... it was...” I sighed, my dominant side losing patience with her prissy attitude and hesitation. Without warning, I slapped her hard across her face, making her spin. My hand hurt from the impact, and a large red spot appeared around her left eye and cheek. She stared at me speechless. “Answer me,” I said calmly, smiling again. For a moment she hesitated, probably considering her options, and when she realized that she was at my mercy and anything she would do to oppose me would always lead back to those incriminating pictures, she closed her eyes and quietly said: “Yes.”
“Yes what?” I asked, louder. She pursed her lips. “Yes, I enjoyed it, Miss,” she answered, more confidently. “Then why didn’t you suck my pussy, slut?” I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I tried hard not to laugh and keep up a tough appearance, but I enjoyed playing this part a lot. She stammered again. “I ... I didn’t like the ... the hair,” she answered. I nodded. “On your knees,” I said quietly, “I’ll teach you to appreciate the pussy of your Mistress.” She closed her eyes again and then sank to the floor, a little too dramatically.
I pulled up my dress to reveal, once again, my naked, eager pussy and the thick ginger bush above it to which she so objected. “Come on now, suck it!” I said commandingly, pulling her head into my crotch by her pony tail. She again tried to get around it by only touching my flabby labia with the very tip of her tongue, but this time I wouldn’t have none of it. I slapped her, again, flat on the side of her face, making her head spin. I had brought with me several toys to subdue her, but for now, it was just raw, bodily abuse.
Her head darted forward and she dove, eyes closed, into the smelly, musty, hairy confines of my muff. Suddenly, she knew how to suck, her tongue running the length of my labia, sliding between them, lapping at my insides while her lips closed around my clit, nibbling on it gently. She was slow and gentle about it, but knew what her job was now. “You like the taste of it?” I asked. “You like the taste of your Mistress’ dirty cunt hole?” When she didn’t answer right away, I pulled her back again by her hair, slapping her once more. “Answer when you’re spoken to, slut!” I said harshly. She looked down. “I like your taste,” she said quietly.
“How does it taste?” I asked. “Salty,” she answered. “A little spicy, like ... sweat ... skin...” She hesitated, then looked up at me, tears in her eyes. “Abuse me,” she whispered, as if she didn’t want to admit it to herself that this whole encounter turned her on so much. The famous actress Dana Hatter had become my fuck slut. “Make me do everything you want and punish me when I’m bad,” she begged. I smirked. “So now you want to taste my piss, whore?” I asked, remembering the disgust on her face when she encountered it last time as I came. “Everything as you please, Miss,” she answered.
I grabbed my handbag and pulled out my black, multi-tailed rubber whip. “Not good enough, slut,” I said, and without a warning brought it down on her back, hard. She arched, biting her lips from the pain. “Unnnggh,” she moaned. “Beg for it!” I ordered, raising the whip again. She looked up at me again, with tears in her eyes. “Please,” she said, “piss in my fucking mouth.”
I stepped across her as she arched backwards, pushing her fake tits up as her head cocked back, her mouth wide open, ready to receive anything I would give her. In that position, her dress pulled up far enough to reveal her bare shaved pussy. It was the first time I got a good look at it, and I wasn’t surprised she was bald, but more at the large size of her clit and labia. She looked like she could fit a lot in there.
I turned and spread my legs across her face, looking down to make sure my cunt was positioned right above her mouth, and then closed my eyes and began to piss. It came out easily, naturally, as if using her as my toilet was something we’ve always done. I heard it splatter down on her face, heard her quietly gargling and gulping as she tried to drink, and cough, as she couldn’t swallow it fast enough. When I opened my eyes again, my ginger crotch rained down yellow splashes on her pretty little face that ran down on all sides, soaking the pink babydoll through.