A Fallen Star (PM only)

[RipRian]

Mike sits uneasily at the wooden, kitchen table. Something isn’t right. Ashley’s texts, her social media, she isn’t answering her phone. Last thing he knew she was practically terrified to meet that demented pervert— asking to rig the results of the competition, reluctant to post anything even remotely sexual. Now, she's readily sexualizing herself alongside that pervert? And she called Damian friendly and nice? –that demented, crass, belligerent pervert? Friendly and nice? Mike scrunches up his face and shakes off his uncertainty. No, he isn't acting like an over-protective father, or like a jealous lover. Something is really, really strange, and he has an obligation as Ashley's agent, as a decent human being, to find out what. Mike’s wife stands in the kitchen doorway– “If you’re so concerned, just call the restaurant. How bad can this Damian West person be? I mean really?” You would understand if you met him, or Christ, even looked at his blog. Mike rings the restaurant.

“Ah, Monsieur…they left just a few moments ago. The jeune fille, she was acting rather… strangely. Drunk maybe? I do not know.”

”Oui, Monsieur. Together.

That did it. In all the time Mike had known Ashley, she barely ever drank, even at social events, and he’d never seen her drunk. Worse, alone and drunk with Damian West? Even if she was naïve enough to believe he was friendly and nice, she wasn’t that stupid. Mike grabs his car keys. I can’t leave it. I’ve got to find her and make sure she’s ok. His wife smiles –It’s rare for him to spring into action, but nothing gets a man going like a Damsel-in-Distress.

-- KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK --​

Who the fuck is that knocking on my door at a time like this? I ignore it –The bastards will go away. I am busy. I continue writing the words ‘PROPERTY OF DAMIAN WEST’ on Ashley’s big, fat, exposed arse cheeks as she continues to gibber unintelligibly. –Nothing but her little, white thong between me and her cunt. I run my finger over it, pressing a finger in –It’s almost soaked through with sticky dampness. Ashley’s whole body appears to quiver as I rub gently, my finger taking on the viscid sexual fluid of Ashley's eager cunt. "I’ve never known a slut so ready to get fucked, you filthy little whore."

-- KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK --​

-- KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK --​

-- KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK --​

Holy fucking shit. I jump up furiously grabbing the DO NOT DISTURB sign from the counter and storm towards the door. –Swinging it open, Mike stands there –furrow-browed, jaw-clenched. My eyes widen and my mind stutters into a brick wall. "Is Ashley here?" FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. This fucking prick. FUCK. His tone is too firm. If I deny it he’ll demand to check. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "Oh. Hi, Mike." I sound lame trying to sound nonchalant –I know it. FUCK. What are my options? Do I have any options? FUCK. ”Yeah. Ashley is here. She’s just lying down –Tired and she’s had too much to drink, I think. Come back later." I try to close the door on him but his foot is in before I can. It’s a pathetic attempt and it wouldn’t have worked but I am desperate. I should've lied– denied it– told him Ashley went home. It's too late now. FUCK. Fight him? He’s bigger and younger than I am, and even if I beat him I’m still fucked. FUCK. ”I want to see her.” ”Later. She needs to rest. She's very tired, and you shouldn't disturb her. Come back later and you can see her then." "I’m going to see her." You absolute fucking prick. Explain I'll give her back in used condition when I'm done with her? Tell him he can have his turn after me? He wouldn't stand there looking like that if he would go for it, the self-righteous prick. Whack him with a lamp when he’s got his back to me? FUCK.

He walks through the room into the bedroom to the sight of doped-up, barely conscious Ashley, with her big arse exposed, her white, stretch, yoga pants pulled down –Averting his gaze as he hurries towards her and pulls them up, over her arse. A pang hits my heart as I see it disappear before my eyes. "Jesus Christ, Damian, you sick fuck. What were you going to do— Rape her?” I try to compose myself and force a laugh –Almost finding myself seriously laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. ”Oh, she must’ve done it to herself. You know how these young girls are. Horny as rabbits." His eyes narrow and he stares at me in disgust while he soothes Ashley. ”Maybe you don’t." He looks ferocious –Angry. Angry enough to hit me? Do I want to get hit? It might help me in the long run. He hoists Ashley up –Her arm around his shoulder. ”Leave her. Let her rest. I’ll look after her. Maybe I can do you a favour sometime?" I wink at him. What the fuck am I doing? He walks past me, Ashley with him. "You’re a demented, perverted fuck-up, Damian, and I’d kick the shit out of you but I am more concerned with getting Ashley away from you." I laugh –A genuine laugh. This self-righteous bastard. ”Don’t kid yourself, Mike. This slut wants it, and she wants it really, really badly. Maybe you’re just upset because you were never man enough to give it to her?" He stops for a second. Hit me, you prick, and Ashley is mine for the rest of the week –Hit me. Hit me. Do it, you prick. He continues walking. FUCK. ”Well, Mike –This was only day one of seven. We’ll see how tomorrow goes.” It’s true and I say it calmly, coldly, coolly, but inside I am in a red hot frenzy. "You aren't coming near her again, you perverted piece of shit." He grabs the door handle behind him and pulls the door shut, slamming it. –Ashley’s fat arse gone with him.

I turn and walk back into the bedroom devastated. I slouch on the side of the bed, Ashley’s strawberry perfume still in the air, and feel like fucking screaming. Disbelief, despair, crazed anger, confusion –Am I grieving? Yes, I am grieving for that big arse –Big, fat, perfect, mine. I shake my head. I came so fucking close. What I said to Mike was true –It’s not over. The sweet, sticky, sweaty smell of Ashley’s cunt is still on my finger as I sniff. She wanted it, and she wanted it really, really badly –That was true also. I’ll get the bitch, and Mike is in for a heap load of trouble, the prick, whatever it takes.

 

[RipRian]

-------

 

[DeepBlue89]

My memories were a bit fuzzy, but I did remember bits and pieces. For one, I knew that I had probably passed out sometime after Mike barged into the room, dragging me out just about when my gave up entire on staying awake and finally let my eyes close. I knew that somehow Mike had gotten me back to my place, most likely with the spare that I had given him in case of an emergency a few months back. But things still weren't clear when I woke up late that very same evening. In fact, when I had gotten up from my bed, I remember staring at my clock and thinking something along the lines of "Oh no, I ruined my sleep schedule!". That is, before I went into the washroom to take a shower, when I saw the writing on my own ass when I posed in front of the mirror: ‘PROPERTY OF DAMIAN WEST It was at that moment that I finally put those bits and pieces together and realized that sometime today, that I found myself completely helpless to Damian. I recalled the sleepiness, the drowsiness and the ache I had between my thighs...but not much else. In a panic, I called my manager who was quick to assure me that he saved me just in time.

He spoke to me in a very "concerned parent" kind of way - a tone of voice that was strict, and furious at the same time. We were on the phone for maybe about twenty minutes, jumping back and forth from him asking me how I was and if I felt okay, to scolding me for not being careful enough around Damian. The conversation then went on about how my text messages, presumably coming from him, were spoofed by a third-party (most likely someone Damian hired) to get me to believe that Mike was egging me on. From the look of things, he easily had both of us fooled, although Mike put the blame solely on me, wanting to take zero accountability of his actions that led me into this situation in the first place. "Damian is a perverted piece of shit, Ashley, and you need to stay away from him. The competition was a mistake. He's fucking scum." he said, seemingly taking some responsibility, which was all that I could hope for at this very moment. But right as I was going to take a breath of fresh air and try to cool down, things took a sudden turn as I was unable to log into my Twitter account.

Mike had disabled my Twitter account.

"D-Did you dis activate my Twitter account?"

"DAMN FUCKING RIGHT I DID!" Mike bellowed at my through the phone "I don't know what we're going to do about the fans. We'll sort them out later. Most of them are as bad as Damian"

My heart began to race as I began to wonder what my fans were going to think. I already witnessed first hand how furious they got - I could only image the confusion and anger from those who were expecting me to post later on tonight. I understood where my manager was coming from - but he was going to destroy my career! All that work, all that effort - I was sure that it was all going down the drain...

"Damian is already threatening lawsuit, and he's had a lot of experience dealing with sexual harassment, sexual assault cases. We'll just have to leave it and hope it dies down."

"But Mike...what if I just talk to him and tell him - "

"SHUT UP ASHLEY! Things are already bad. Just stay the FUCK away from him."

...
​

It was about 10:30PM when I found myself lying in my bed, thinking more about my actions and what had happened over the period of the past twelve around or so. These thoughts went all over the place - from the anger in Mike's voice, to the fear of my fans, to my messages to the vague memories I had of having Damian's hand on my ass in public. By letting these memories, specifically the latter, consume me, I could remember more - or more specifically, of being down face first on a bed, with my ass sticking out while Damian peeled down my tights to reveal more and more of my skin. Almost fearfully, I thought of what could have happened had Mike not shown up when he did. Would Damian had taken down my thong? If Mike had been just five minutes late, would he have found me pinned down with Damian's cock inside of my tight, virgin pussy? I thought about what that could have possibly felt like and squirmed more on my bed, with my phone in hand as I re-read that message that Damian had sent me a few days ago:

"Ashley, my sex kitten. I was just remembering when you said I wouldn't win–You guaranteed it, remember? End of story you said. Get that through my thick skull you said. Not a single second you said. It makes me laugh how wrong you were. Don't ever forget who that arse belongs to, Ashley—Property of Damian West. You wrote it. It's the truth. i am going to slam you until you squeal—Until your pussy is creaming on my cock—Until your eyes roll into the back of your head as you lose yourself in orgasmic trances of pure pleasure. If you think a single word of this is untrue, don't forget—You also guaranteed I wouldn't win this competition, and yet here I come—On my way. Damian West."

"Stop..." I whimpered to myself, upset of the fact that I was getting horny by just reading that private message; craving experiences that I hadn't gotten to experience yet. My time with Damian was insanely degrading and yet, I felt such a strange rush by imagining myself having sex - or better said, being absolutely fucked - by him. In a strange way, I was grateful that Mike had somehow forgotten about my Instagram account when he had deleted my Twitter information. I thought about posting something, or even messaging Damian...if just to get some more details about what happened. Although, if I had to be completely honest, some part in the back of my mind wanted to message Damian to put myself in danger again. "That jackass!" I then muttered out-loud - thinking both about Damian and Mike. The former of which had brought this strange experience to my life, where as the latter essentially let it happen. This whole thing was Mike's idea and he had the gall to put restrictions on me after...

I had gotten a text from Oliver. "Hey babe, I was wondering how your day went? Love you."

My head was too wrapped up over my own feelings that I didn't really think of replying to my loving boyfriend, who had no idea that I was borderline fantasizing about some pervert. But my brief glance towards Oliver's text gave me an idea - maybe I could talk to Damian via text message? After all, Mike might eventually remember about my Instagram account and scold me for all those pictures I posted; the only way that I could reliably get to Damian would be through sending text messages or calling him. My heart raced at the thought; wondering on whether I was still drugged somehow. This was too crazy...

But right then, I decided to open up the app on my phone and saw a flurry of private messages coming from Damian.

"What happened, Ashley? Your cunt was gooey with excitement and desire like a filthy fucking slut--wiggling your big arse in anticipation--moaning that you were my fuck-doll. Then Mike bursts in and drags you away. Very unfair!"


As I read that first message, a loud gasp escaped my lips. I remembered more of those disgusting feelings. The feeling of my heart racing when I was alone with Damian. I couldn't remember much, but I could remember how my pussy felt, dripping with excitement as I found myself completely helpless to him. My mind told me - or rather begged me - to put my phone down. I did...for a few seconds. But an excitement and curiosity brought me to pick it back up and continue reading...

"Look at your arsecheeks. I won you and you belong to me. Not Mike, who doesn't know what he's doing, currently ruining your career. Not Oliver, who can't excite you. Me, Ashley. I know what you need and want. No one else. Do what Daddy tells you and slide your hand down between your legs and feel the warmth and wetness--the sexual pleasure--of your eager cunt, and remember, it belongs to me."

A whimper escaped my lips.

I rocked my hips against my bed, rubbing my big ass against the surface of my mattress. My skin felt all hot and flushed, as if I had a small fever - vivid thoughts coursing through my mind. With one hand on my phone, the other went between my legs. My index finger felt the outline of my pussy lips, against the moist fabric of my thong. A soft coo escaped my lips as I slowly began to rub it.

"Mike always wanted you to be a more sexual, and now you are, he's terrified. He doesn't know what to do, and he's going to ruin your career. Twitter are confused--Why has sex kitten Ashley Star deactivated her account? Am I to tell them she's actually a shy, prudish, little girl pushed around by her manager?"

"No..." I whimpered, as if he could hear me.

"Ultimately, Ashley, you're the one accountable for your life and your actions, and it's you I blame. You're weak and scared and pathetic and you deserve to be punished. If you're ready to start acting like a big girl, ready to start taking control of your career my number is (XXX)-XXX-XXXX."

My heart pounded in my chest. My free hand went over to my phone as I saved that number.

In any other state of mind, I would have ignored these messages. But Damian knew how to play me like a fiddle, and I felt my own wetness as I contemplated the idea of calling this pervert, the man who had drugged me and wanted to take advantage of me. I bit my bottom lip, dialing his number. When he answered, I said:

"I deserved to be punished..."

A whimper then came out of my mouth.

 

[RipRian]

I calm myself down. It takes a series of hours of teeth grinding and wanting to scream—My hands felt the softness of her skin, her arse, and the sensuality of her enormous, squishy tits, and then it was taken away—but I will get it back, and I’ll get back at that prick Mike, somehow. It’s not fair, but life isn’t fair, and justice is a human construct –My God, righteousness is on my side. Mike rigged the competition for Oliver, which I nobly prevailed against, while Ashley insulted me –a prude who secretly yearned for domination insulting me because I had the strength, courage and bravery to speak my desires honestly? Damian West – Martyr for Truth. It’s the truth and I laugh and I know in the end I must fuck Ashley Star because it is the natural order. Mike is the perverter, not me.

I realize, however, that however noble my cause, I need leverage.

bryan9_: What U need, man?
damianwest: Found anything on Mike?
bryan9_: Idk. E-mails show possible affair months ago which he ended?
damianwest: Weak. His wife could already know. Send me the information anyway.
bryan9: kk

Mike the Do-Gooder ain’t so fricken good. Why must everyone act like such a hypocrite? I wouldn’t mind that Mike wanted to fuck on the side, and yet he felt so pure-hearted as he escorted Ashley away from me. Absolute fucking prick. Well, Mike may wish to charge around like God Almighty, but he is certainly beholden to higher authorities, and needs must –I dial the number of Sunshine Talent Management, the agency for which Mike represents Ashley. Corner the bastard on all sides.

Mike sits at the coffee table, stressed and confused; his wife at the park with their infant daughter to give him time alone to think. It hadn’t taken Damian long to contact the agency for which Mike worked representing Ashley, and they’d soon after phoned Mike and given him an earful over the phone on how he’d mismanaged the entire situation. “I know about Damian West. So what? He’s a seasoned professional—reliable. Girls like Ashley are plentiful. The only thing worth anything to us is Ashley’s fame, and you’re jeopardizing that as well as running the risk of legal trouble for your personal convictions? Grow up, Mike, and grow up quick, or we might find ourselves unable to trust your judgment in representing our clients if you’re going to act like an emotional child.” Mike listened and promised to fix things. How? His fingers squeeze the bridge of his nose. Ashley had created this situation with her stupidity, sabotaging the competition, and it’d serve her right. –Not even thinking about the things he heard her moan out as he took her from Damian’s hotel room to her own apartment. Was he supposed to have let Damian force himself on Ashley? … Mike’s phone buzzes. –A text from Damian.

“Tiffany Brown?”

“Shit,” Mike spits aloud, a realization gripping him.

I feel warmer inside now –Now things are once again going my way. The Sunshine Talent Management was understanding, apologetic and very obliging, and to soften me asked if I was interested in photographing some of their other stars sometime in the future maybe. “Any as sexy as Ashley?” I asked. “Almost,” replied the laughing silky smooth voice of Mike's employer, someone who knew what was what. Girls in the industry like Ashley aren't to be coddled like small children –They’re to be used, their bodies and fame commodities. Mike acting like Ashley's overprotective father was the biggest load of shit I'd ever seen, and the agency for which he worked agreed.

Mike’s affair put him in an even stickier situation, and although the hypocritical bastard hadn’t replied to my text, I followed it up.

“Mind your own business, and I’ll mind mine. I’ve already made Ashley more famous than she’s ever been, and you’re getting in the way –Why? Hypocrisy and stupidity. Ashley wants it, and it’s in everyone’s interest. Get in the way again and I’ll destroy your career and your marriage. Prick.”

My anger subsides and I feel less vengeful towards Mike now his intervention seems more like a hiccup than a disaster, but given the right moment, I'll deliver him a kick in the ribs. My priority is Ashley. No woman can come so close to getting fucked without fantasies, which she already had, clawing inside her head causing a warmth between her legs. She should only take a bit of reeling in, and without Mike to stop her, there’s nothing to get in the way.

I type a flurry of messages –my cock rock hard, I get carried away somewhat.

"What happened, Ashley? Your cunt was gooey with excitement and desire like a filthy fucking slut--wiggling your big arse in anticipation--moaning that you were my fuck-doll. Then Mike bursts in and drags you away. Very unfair!"

"Look at your arsecheeks. I won you and you belong to me. Not Mike, who doesn't know what he's doing, currently ruining your career. Not Oliver, who can't excite you. Me, Ashley. I know what you need and want. No one else. Do what Daddy tells you and slide your hand down between your legs and feel the warmth and wetness--the sexual pleasure--of your eager cunt, and remember, it belongs to me."

"Mike always wanted you to be a more sexual, and now you are, he's terrified. He doesn't know what to do, and he's going to ruin your career. Twitter are confused--Why has sex kitten Ashley Star deactivated her account? Am I to tell them she's actually a shy, prudish, little girl pushed around by her manager?"

"Ultimately, Ashley, you're the one accountable for your life and your actions, and it's you I blame. You're weak and scared and pathetic and you deserve to be punished. If you're ready to start acting like a big girl, ready to start taking control of your career my number is (XXX)-XXX-XXXX."

I laugh at the deviousness of the manipulation I have worked. A few days ago this bitch had been messaging me calling me a freak, and now, I knew, she was squirming uncomfortably with her own sick desires. That big arsed little bitch was forced to face the depravity she’d deplored in everyone else, and she was too weak and pathetic to do it by herself –She had to be led. Is she desperate enough to call? I wait. –A grin spreads across my face as the phone starts to buzz, Ashley’s number on the screen.

Immediately she announces –"I deserved to be punished..."

She follows it with a delicate whimper, and I know I’m right –She wants it bad, and a woman who wants to get fucked this badly is willing to do anything.

“Deserved, Ashley? You still deserve it. You lied and said I wouldn’t win the competition, you tried to cheat so I wouldn’t win, you insulted me, as well as your fans, and called me a freak, and you ran out on our date. Your first words to me should’ve been “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad girl, Daddy” and then proposed how you were going to make it up to me.”

A woman needs to know her fucking place.

"I-I'm sorry Daddy! I'll -"

And this slut is beginning to.

“From now on, Ashley, you are to behave yourself, and when I tell you to do something, I want no response except “Yes, Daddy” from you. Do you understand?"

Grinning and electrified, I move and adjust –kicking off my shorts and lounging, my hand gliding up and down my cock.

"Yes, Daddy..I'm sorry..."

“Slide your hand down between your legs if it isn’t already there.

"Okay...Ah..."

Her moaning is soft, sensual and sweet –Her submission complete.

“You are making Daddy proud, you little slut.”

"Thank you..."

“Now take your index finger and your middle finger and slowly, lightly, gently rub –Feeling your warmth and wetness—Think about everything that would’ve happened in my hotel room if we weren’t interrupted.”

She goes quiet then starts to moan, the sound of desperation in her yearning groans –sexual yelps as she opens to the floodgate to the fantasies and experiences she’d tried to deprive herself of.

“Go faster and let your hips sway. Imagine my hand wrapped around your neck, roughly pulling your head, slapping your arse hard, reddening the cheeks. Imagine my cock as it slides in and out of your gushing, wet hole, and imagine the waves of pleasure that flood your body as I slam into you over and over as you moan and squeal.”

"Oohhhhhhhh yess daddy! I'll try to take as much of your BIG cock as I can!"

“Tell me if you feel yourself close to cumming, Ashley. You aren’t allowed to cum without Daddy’s permission.”

"Mhmmm"

“Imagine what it’ll feel like as I take my thick cock from your cunt and push it forcefully against your arsehole –pushing against the pressure to force it in as you cry and beg and I slap your arsecheeks harder and harder in response.”

"Daddy I've been such a bad girl with you that you better punish me HARD...I...I deserve it...I'll let you fuck my pussy...fuck my big ass...Oh....Oh GOD DADDY I'm going to cum!"

I feel a similar rising and tightening –hardening my voice.

“So close to cumming so soon, Ashley –Either you just want Daddy’s cock so badly, or it’s true that you’re an inexperienced little virgin who has never known what it feels like to have a large cock fill and stretch your holes, to have cum fill you and ooze out, to have a cock forced down your throat. So eager, so desperate for it, and yet you spurned Daddy, denied me, insulted me. You don’t have permission to cum until you promise, until you swear, from now on you will behave like Daddy’s good girl, and you will do everything Daddy tells you and take your punishment obediently.”

"OooOooh GOD! I'm sorry Daddy! I want...I want your cock...I-I-i promise that I'll be Daddy's good girl...I promise a-ah..."

“Daddy is going to make it as uncomfortable for you as you made it uncomfortable for me with your lying and cheating as well as punishing your arse, and if you will behave like a good girl from now on, Ashley, you have Daddy’s permission to cum.”

"Oooooh godd...."

The ecstasy of the release in her screams is palpable, and I envision her body convulsing, waves of pleasure pouring through her as fantasies of my cock flood her mind –I tighten my grip on my cock and stroke faster grunting as beads of cum spatter across my stomach. On the other end, Ashley is breathing heavily.

Becalmed post-ejaculation I coo more gently, but planning the consolidation of the domination of the big titted, big arsed slut. I haven’t fucked her yet.

“You’ve been a good girl, Ashley, but you need to make it up to Daddy. No more lying, complaining, insulting, or else you lose everything. Do what you are told. You belong to me.”

Silence except for heavy breathing.

“You are to strip naked and to take a picture showing your little slut body which belongs to Daddy, and tell everyone how grateful you are to have found someone who knows what you need, and recommend your female fans get in touch because they need to same treatment.”

"A-A-a...."

"..."

A gibbering wreck –Good.

"I - I will...please..."

I laugh.

“Don’t ask me for anything, Ashley. Do what you’re told and you’ll get what you need.”

Silence.

“Tomorrow Mike will pick you up –Even Mike has learned his place—and he’s going to take us for a drive somewhere special and then leave us, and we’re going to play a fun game in which you will reward your fans. You are to wear a short skirt and a button up blouse which you will unbutton at the top to show off your big tits. Do you understand?”

"I und-understand Daddy....are you...going to...fuck me?"

“Your fans are going to decide what I should do with you. After all, you were mean enough to call them perverts, and you’re worse than they are, so you need to make it up to them.”

“"W-Wait...Plea—“

I hang up before she can finish her sentence, and then rest backwards in glory and triumph.

 

[DeepBlue89]

"W-Wait...Plea—“​

He hung up.​

The silence in the room just brought to my attention how wet I was. My hand still playing with my shaven pussy, a whimper escaped my lips when I heard the wet slushing noise as my fingers rubbed faster and faster. With my right hand, I picked up my phone, wondering on whether I should stop. Well, more like slightly contemplated - I was hot and bothered, my face feeling flushed as I began to wonder what kind of depravity was in store for me if I continued. I bit my bottom lip as I laid on my stop, taking my finger away from my inner lips and saw the glistening fluid on it. "Ohhhhh god...." I moaned in a soft, low tone of voice. I was going to go ahead with it. I was going to take that picture that solidify my complete and utter submission towards Damian. I might regret it, but at that moment I wasn't really thinking about the future.

Oliver texted me. I ignored it.

Instead, I took my phone and took the picture:

"AshleyStar:: My body belongs to my daddy, Damian. He's going to punish my ass really hard for me being naughty. Stay tuned! And any female fan should really contact Damian - he can give you the same treatment! Comment #arsefuckingforashley if you want to see my ass get fucked!!!"

thomas91: Lol, if I were Damian I'd lock u in my basement n keep u as a fuck slave #arsefuckingforashley
the_mad_fapper: omg... that body
mollyringer97: ashley!!! your fans are young and impressionable!!!
lukex: naught cos she wants it lol. damian needs to teach her a proper lesson.
bryan9_: maybe Ur curious, molly??? #arsefuckingforashley
bridget_skylark contact damian??? :S :S :S :S is ashley for real??
icelander6x: Tell Damian i want a turn!!! #arsefuckingforashley
icelander6x: With Ashley I mean lol
smart_mouth1: filthy slut lmfao #arsefuckingforashley
MarkyMarkfan3: Pound it, Damian!!!!
epicwinner1488: sluts deserve to suffer #arsefuckingforashley

I laid down and waited, watching as the comments began to pour in. My left hand, once again, went between my legs. I ran my left index finger over the length of my pussy lips, feeling its wetness. With my breath getting heavier and heavier, I rubbed them. An idea then crossed my mind - namely, to upload a picture that Damian posted, to really bring the message home. A loud moan escaped my lips as I turned over to see:

AshleyStar: You all voted for it. Are you excited to know that Damian owns my big ass? We're taking suggestions for what kind of sex for us to have tomorrow! Include #arsefuckingforashley if you want to see Damian dominate my ass!

jamhotxx: how hard can damian give it, lol?
pat32: hope damian makes it hurt... i wanna see her cry #arsefuckingforashley
6actionman9: Gag her! Choke her! Hurt her!
skeeter9: When do WE get to see it????
smart_mouth1: BREAK HER #arsefuckingforashley
justdoit:"you're not getting any of those sick fantasies fulfilled you jackass." lmfao
dragonballz22 make her walk naked through san fransico!!
smithers_s: make ashley beg! #arsefuckingforashley
AshleyStar: I hope Damian makes it hurt. I'm a bad girl and deserve to be punished...
AshleyStar: I'm sorry everyone for being a bad girl. But daddy will make me squeal for all of you!

Damian said that the fans would decide and in my horrendously horny state of mind, I thought that I could make my domination happen. I whipped up a storm of degrading, objectifying comments and upon reading them, I plunged a lone finger inside myself. A loud groan came out of my mouth, a shutter as I felt my inner muscles clench HARD on that single digit. I imagined how difficult it would be to take Damian's cock and somehow, this thought, pushed me over the edge.

"O-OH OHHHH FUCK!"​

A scream came out of my mouth as my pussy reached its limit. My body squirmed alongside my bed, hot cum pouring out my pussy as I accepted that I belonged to that pervert. He was going to punish me hard and I honestly deserved it. Writhing on my bed, I glanced at my phone and shamelessly, I dialed Oliver's number.

"Hey honey? Oh...yeah, Mike has been telling me to act like that. Uhuh. Yeah, it's all for work. Stupid right?..."

..​

The morning came by, I found myself in an extremely anxious state of mind. My heart was pounding as I showered, my mind going over what would happen today. Could I go through with it? It felt as if despite my own excitement - a sick, twisted thrill coursing through my veins knowing that if I continued on this path, that I would have a big fat cock inside of my virgin pussy - I knew that it was wrong. Coming out the shower, I glanced at my phone. I kept coming up with excuses for my behavior; my mind going over thoughts like "Well if Oliver texted me right now, I wouldn't go through with this" or "This isn't my fault. Mike pushed me to go through with this. This is for my career"...although deep down, I knew I wanted this. I experienced just a taste of the degrading excitement that Damian had to offer and I wanted more.

When I stepped out of the washroom, I saw a text message. Not from Oliver, mind you - but from the pervert:

"Well done on the pictures, you little whore. Everyone is starting to see you for what you are, and you're slowly making it up to me --but you've got a long, long way to go yet. Mike is going to pick you up at 10am (even he knows his place now). Make yourself pretty and eager, with a smooth cunt and wet lips. #arsefuckingforashley"


My body trembled at his degrading words, my heart racing as I typed back:

"Thank you daddy. I'll wear a thong like yesterday for you, with tights on. I want to experience what I would have gotten yesterday if Mike didn't ruin our fun. I can't wait to squeal while you punish me with your cock. #arsefuckingforashley"

As I began to feel a wetness between my legs, I stopped myself from continuing. Instead, I hurried off to get dressed. White tights, a thong and a tight blue blouse with a thin, lacy bra underneath. I was putting on some strawberry scented perfume, when all of a sudden I heard some knocking on my door.

* KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK *

Sheepishly, I answered and saw Mike standing there.

"I - "

I didn't know what to say, but thankfully I didn't have a chance to mumble any words out of my mouth. Gritting his teeth, Mike pulled something out of his pocket.

A pair of handcuffs.

"Damian said that you have to put these on."

Doubt began to set in. Was I sure that I wanted to go along with this? Sure, this was the most exciting thing in my life, despite degrading myself like this. But handcuffs?

"...Okay."

Still, I didn't object, letting Mike handcuff me from behind as he led me out of my place and towards his car. Thankfully, none of my neighbors saw me like this - instead, I slipped inside before he drove us off.

 

[RipRian]

Mike tried to sleep restlessly beside his wife –Not just because of the new baby for a change. Damian knew about the six month long affair a year ago; the agency was siding with Damian’s perspective; Ashley, it seemed, did actually want Damian, much to Mike’s disgust. Everything had gone wrong. Lying next to his wife he closed his eyes and tried, once again, to sleep –Images of Ashley in the hotel room with Damian when he’d rescued her— And the fact he’d incurred the anger of a spiteful, perverted goblin, jeopardizing everything. He couldn’t sleep. –Anger and worry were too great. He’d remembered Ashley’s Instagram before sleeping and seen she was saying she belonged to Damian, saying she wanted him to dominate her ass. All the deliberately outrageous misogynistic things Damian said about women –They were certainly true about Ashley.

July 14th​

Mike crawls out of bed tired-eyed, not fit for function, barely able to think –something in his head burnt out. He checks his phone from work messages and sees a text from Damian –“Oh yeah, that wasn’t actually just a really shitty nightmare.”

“Time for you to fix your mistake yesterday and make it up to me. Pick Ashley up at 10, and bring her the Sleaze and Skunk Motel –Room 9. Find some handcuffs and make her wear them. Damian West.”

Whatever. Absolutely whatever. Just do it and get it done and then move on –Mike’s internal monologue sighing in despair. Damian hadn’t even mentioned Tiffany, not this time –Mike knew Damian was subtle enough to understand the power he had—Never mind whatever conversation took place between Sunshine Agency and Damian. Whatever, whatever, whatever. Just get it over and done.

“Mike –are you okay?” His wife’s voice. “Work stuff.” “Is it Ashley again, with that man you mentioned?” “Something to do with that, yeah.” “I was so proud of you –the way you leapt into action to rescue her like a real hero. Is she okay now?” Mike’s face twitched unconsciously. “She’s pretty worked up, but she’s okay. I just need to sort some things with her.”

Mike showers, dresses then says goodbye to his sweet, sensible wife, who thought she'd reassured Mike: he wasn't an overprotective father, he'd been a hero and saved a young girl from a lecherous creep. Mike didn't correct her impression of the situation, and he leaves despondent and resigned. He stops at a kink store and picks up a pair of handcuffs –Who knows how Damian might react if Ashley showed up without the handcuffs? Just do what he says and get it done, Mike repeats to himself in his head over and over.

He knocks on Ashley’s door –it sounds harder, more forceful than usual, his anger upsetting him.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK​

Ashley answers –a thin lacey bra just visible beneath the translucent light blue blouse in the bright light—Mike notes that Ashley is dressing sexy for Damian with disgust. She looks nervous but not scared, not like someone who wants to get away from Damian –more like someone who’s apprehensively looking forward to something.

"I - "

Mike really doesn’t want to hear anything from her –Anything she has to say. He pulls out the handcuffs, interrupting her—“Damian said that you have to put these on." –Mike’s tone flat and hard. "...Okay." No resistance –She turns around and Mike handcuffs her at the wrists. He leads her out, shutting and locking her door for her, then escorting her to the car, opening the door for her –completely silent. Yesterday Mike rushed around desperate to protect her, he thinks as he drives –a hero, his wife had said—but what when it turns out she didn’t want to be rescued? Well, maybe she did deserve it. Mike stares ahead not even turning to look at Ashley once –a long, awkward silence as they drive through the bright San Francisco suburbs to the backwoods –to Sleaze and Skunk Motel.

Finally, Mike pulls up –a dirty, raundown, cheap motel –the kind most probably filled with alcoholics and prostitutes. Yeah, this seems like the kind of place Damian would prefer, Mike notes –and then sees Room 9 at the end, a few steps from the car park. Mike wonders if Ashley has begun to realize just how stupid she’s been yet –probably not. Should he tell her it isn’t a game and she’s making a mistake? It wouldn’t convince her and it’d cause more trouble for himself so Mike decides not to bother –Just let it happen.

..​

I wake up after a beautiful dream of big tits and bigger arses –women who know their place is on their knees—Ashley Star. I saw the pictures she posted before I went to sleep and slept soundly knowing she’d accepted her submission totally –saying she belonged to me, which she did, and she wanted me to dominate her arse. –The silly bitch liked the feeling of submission, but she had no fucking idea what real domination entailed. The stupidity of women never ceases to amaze me. Well, it was inevitable for her now, and nothing could save her. I crawl out of bed and decide to make things worse for her –the fans need to know The Truth –Or some of it. I write up a blog post.

It is the Man, your God, Damian West, delivering you a very special update –The Truth about Ashley Star. Many of you reading this think you know or suspect you think you know, but you know nothing—You are idiots. You assume based on her Twitter and Instagram, Ashley Star is, all of a sudden, a raunchy little sex kitten who loves sex. The truth is a much more complicated thing. In short, though: Ashley Star is a fucking liar and a cunt.

On July 12th, before the competition ended, she messaged me and called me a sick freak, a pervert, and promised I wouldn’t win –The competition was, as many at the time knew, rigged. She went on a rampage and called her male fans disgusting. What happened? She is, like all women, a deluded, stupid bitch. But she forgot one thing –I am Damian West: I can do the impossible. I won. Then Ashley, all of a sudden, changes. What happened? Again, in short, Ashley Star is a fucking liar and a cunt. She’s a shy, timid, sexually inexperienced virgin with a pathetic boyfriend named Oliver. Her sex kitten routine was a lie managed by her agency because she’d upset her male fans because she finds the idea of them so, so revolting. Are you angry yet? You should be.

Again, though, Ashley forgot one thing –I am Damian West, I can do the impossible. Anyone who has read my blog and my books knows the basic truth of female psychology –Women are stupid—pathetic—childish. They need to be led, to be taken, and that is what I have done. It was a lie at first when Ashley said she belonged to me, something to pacify angry fans, but now? Now it is true. Her body is mine. Don’t believe me? Think I am making it up? I am going to stream the domination and humiliation of stupid, braindead pop sensation Ashley Star on my website at 10:45am. I especially recommend any female fans of Ashley Star stay to watch what happens to uppity princesses who act too haughty –a livestreamed reminder that women are braindead, worthless sex objects coming soon.


Damian West.

I feel magnificent –My God. Maybe Mike bursting through the door and escorting Ashley out was for the best, since now –now he would bring her to me, and now I’d make it far, far worse for her and far, far more pleasant for me. In fact, I want everything to go perfect this time –beyond perfect. It’s the capstone in an ordeal, and it deserves a dramatic flourish. I arranged a room at the vilest motel I can find –something suitably sordid—and then text Mike his instructions.

My phone buzzes. A text from Ashley—

"Thank you daddy. I'll wear a thong like yesterday for you, with tights on. I want to experience what I would have gotten yesterday if Mike didn't ruin our fun. I can't wait to squeal while you punish me with your cock. #arsefuckingforashley"

I laugh and laugh at the stupidity and naivety of the braindead bitch. Only when driving to the Sleaze and Skunk Motel, laptop, digital cameras and a tripod in a bag, do I remember I told the bitch to wear a fucking short skirt. I wanted those big, chunky legs on display, but instead she chooses tights. Evidently the cunt hadn’t completely learned her lesson yet.

I arrive at Sleaze and Skunk Motel, and get the key for Room 9, the room I'd booked with the foul-sounding, fouler-looking attendant. "No drugs, no whoring," the slobbery idiot warns. I laugh and walk off with my key -No one uses this goddamn motel for anything except drugs and whoring.

The room was cheap and ugly but mostly clean --surprisingly. It'd do.

I set my laptop up on the table and make the necessary arrangements syncing with my cameras --setting one up on the horizontal side of the bed and the other the vertical. It was important for people to see Ashley's anguished, flushed face as I pounded her over.

I sit at the laptop and set everything up. The livestream is black --not yet enabled-- but the instant I enable a chatroom, something to enable real-time interaction between Ashley and her devoted fans, people swarm into it and flood it with comments.

Jacksmack99: Lol, wtf is even going on. Is this 4 real?
bridget_skylark: This is bullshit. Why would Ashley do it? It's a joke by Damian. Watch.
henry38: Damian is 100% gonna deliver. he's a god
MarkyMarkfan3: Bridget, stfu, just look at star's instagram. damian is for real.
dylan94: Ashley is doing it cos she's a dumb bitch just like U
bridget_skylark: You're the dumb one if you think anything is going to happen. Another loser worshiping a bigger loser like Damian.
bryan9_: press 111 if you want Damian to go after bridget next
dylan94: 111
MarkyMarkfan3: 111
bridget_skylark: You guys are lame.
skeeter9: WHEN DOES THIS BITCH GET WHAT SHE DESERVES????
mollyringer97: ashley is acting really really strange but i dont believe damian tbh
smithers_s: ashley squealing has to sound better than her singing lol
bryan9_: So hard to believe Ashley is just getting what she wants, lol?

I read them laughing while I sit waiting in this ugly room for Ashley Star to be delivered to me by the man, her agent, the moral crusader and rescuer, delivers her to me for hard use, a hard use the bitch can't even imagine but at least thinks she craves. At last --

KNOCK KNOCK​

 

[DeepBlue89]

The drive was long and the silence cut through me like butter. If I had to describe it in a way that most people understood, sitting next to Mike with him not saying a single word made me feel as if I were a kid, next to a very disappointed parent. Sure, he didn't say anything on the way there, but every so often I could have sworn I heard him sigh, or take a deep breath. Either way, I knew my manager well enough that he thought that I was doing something incredibly stupid. Which I was - I knew that much. But that was the strangest thing; despite the sheer stupidity of letting Damian West, of all people, have his way with me somehow made it all the more thrilling. My heart raced at the thought of being helpless to him again. To experience the depravity that he goes on and on about...to have my virginity taken away. Don't get me wrong, in the back of my mind I knew what I was doing was completely immoral and inexcusable. I had a loving boyfriend, anxiously texting me (if the vibration in my purse was him texting me), and yet I was going to utterly betray him in the worst way humanly possible. Sitting there in handcuffs and in complete silence, my mind began to wonder whether if it was too late to change my mind. Butterflies in my stomach began to flutter - what if I was biting off more than I could chew? Maybe this thrill was going to disappear? Maybe the excitement wasn't worth it. Maybe -

The car stopped.

Once again, Mike didn't say a single word. Instead, he opened up the door and go out - muttering out something inaudible before moving towards the passenger door and with a gesture of his hand, told me to get out. I did, staring ahead to see some shabby looking motel, with an unlit neon sign saying Sleaze and Skunk Motel; each letter somehow showcasing how much of a seedy place this really was. My body nearly trembled in anticipation, especially as Mike led me towards Damian. I counted the doors, all the while my mind went back and remembered all those disgusting things Damian has said about me in the past.

1...2...3...​

@damianwest: Ashley is a whore who NEEDS to be fucked like a whore. The only question is who can do it.

@damianwest: You think Oliver can make Ashley cum like I can make Ashley cum? Do the right thing. Vote for me.

He was right about that. Maybe I needed to be fucked like a whore. This whole place was seedy and not at all luxurious like all those hotels I stayed at in the past. Maybe I felt this strange excitement because I was a slut that deserved to be abused by Damian. He did make me cum, all by playing mind games with me. Oliver hadn't even gotten to second base with me and he's been my boyfriend for a while now. Meanwhile Damian, the complete sleazebag, somehow managed me to feel sexual pleasure for the first time in my life.

4...5...6...​

damianwest It's true. Ashley's arse is my personal property. I won it fair and square.
damianwest:I'm going to spend the next week taking FULL ownership.
damianwest: My cock is to become a permanent resident within it.

I was ready to completely submit to him. I wanted to know what it would feel like to have all that pent up lust and aggressive that he had towards me, released on me. I wondered whether he actually planned on ass fucking me. I wondered on whether he'd force me to feel that dirty, disgusting act on me in this seedy place. My legs trembled a bit, as the realization that he was going to fuck me began to truly set in my mind. This was going to happen. It was too late to back away...

7...8...​

"Ashley, my sex kitten. I was just remembering when you said I wouldn't win–You guaranteed it, remember? End of story you said. Get that through my thick skull you said. Not a single second you said. It makes me laugh how wrong you were. Don't ever forget who that arse belongs to, Ashley—Property of Damian West. You wrote it. It's the truth. i am going to slam you until you squeal—Until your pussy is creaming on my cock—Until your eyes roll into the back of your head as you lose yourself in orgasmic trances of pure pleasure. If you think a single word of this is untrue, don't forget—You also guaranteed I wouldn't win this competition, and yet here I come—On my way. Damian West."

Slight moisture passed by my inner lips.

I'm so sorry Oliver...


...9.

-- KNOCK KNOCK --​

Mike opened the door and with a slight shove, pushed me inside. A well lit, shabby looking room with Damian inside of it. I didn't know what to say, so I just stood there like a doe between headlights. I quickly glanced back, just to see the figure of Mike leaving, slamming the door behind him. Silence engulfed the room as my gaze then went back to Damian. With sheer anxiety making me stutter I said:

"H-Hey Damian..."

“It’s Daddy –or did you forget? The same you forgot to wear a skirt? The same you’ve forgot about your boyfriend Oliver, you shameful little whore?”

"I-I-I'm sorry Daddy!" I replied, just now realizing how strange and weird it felt saying out loud in person. I snapped out of my thoughts just as he got up and walked aggressively towards me. I nearly yelped when I felt he grab me, pushing me towards the bed while my feet instinctively tried to anchor me to the ground. It didn't do me any good, however within just a couple of seconds, he led me onto the bed. Without much effort, he sat me down with my hands still cuffed behind my back. Once he moved aside, I simply stared ahead of me with a lost look to my face.

My heart raced, my mind wondering on whether I needed to tell him that I wasn't ready. I mean...I thought I was yesterday, but maybe that was all in my head. This was moving all so quickly, I needed to say something -

"D-Damian, I'm not too sure I - "

"Sit on the bed and look like your usual doe-eyed, dumb cunt self for the fans." he said in a harsh tone of voice, doing something with the computer in front of us. I was confused, so confused that I didn't notice his hand unbuttoning a few buttons on my blouse until I felt his hands on my large breasts. "W-what are you..." I began, but simply cut myself on, feeling his hands squeeze them. My heart was pounding and my body was trembling as he continued:

“Are you ready for your fans to see what a silly, naïve, little girl you are?”

"My..my fans?" I asked, unaware of the fan that people were indeed watching. I thought, in the back of my mind, that it was just dirty talk. That by Damian telling me that I was to reward my fans, he meant by sleeping with him and writing about it.

“Ready for them to watch you get what you deserve –uppity, talentless bitch whose only actual worthwhile features are her thick body, big tits and curves, the body of a fucking whore?”


"Wa-Wait, are you livestreaming this? We can't do that! Please..." I then pleaded, my voice nearly trembling as I stared at Damian, typing away at his keyboard. My gaze then moved to see if there was a webcam attached to the computer. Was he bluffing?

“We can’t leave them out of it.” - Damian said with a cruel laugh as he typed some more – “Two competitions. Whoever guesses your type and colour of underwear, wins them, and whoever can most effectively remind you of your place wins your bra.”

My hands attempted to move, restrained by the handcuffs.

"You didn't say we were going to do this!" I then whined, the cold metallic restraints hurting my skin as I struggled with them.

 

[RipRian]

I open the door and Ashley stands there her tits protruding with her arms handcuffed behind her back –behind her, Mike with a defeated look. He practically pushes her forward into me, then leaves, shutting the door behind him. The heroic, moral crusader mustn’t like the hard, true realities of life –He should buy one of my books. He doesn’t even give me the key to Ashley’s handcuffs –Not that it matters because they aren’t coming off.

She looks perfect and petrified, stood nervous and biting her lip –a sinking realization of regret? It’s too late now, she must realize, and overwhelming me as much as her body, her helplessness causes cold, erotic shivers of desire.

I escort the babbling, awkward, big titted whore to the bed –In front of the cameras– squeezing her tits and unbuttoning her blouse to show her big tits –for the fans, of course. Getting Ashley to this point has taken such a fricken month of hard effort, and I am not going to rush it –I need to savour each morsel of her discomfort.

"D-Damian, I'm not too sure I - "

I wonder if the stupid bitch is actually stupid enough to think I might stop? She’s alone in a sordid motel room, handcuffed. I laugh –Maybe she thinks Mike will rescue her again?

The cameras on, I type into the chatroom while Ashley sits looking like a frightened, little child. The chatroom is moving rapidly with astonishment –Everyone had seen Ashley’s Twitter and Instagram posts, but my blog post and the way Ashley now looks, everyone knows Ashley isn't some pocket rocket sex kitten –she is what she seemed before, what most women are: a silly little child with a sexy body who needs to be taken.

henry38: Lol, it’s ACTUALLY Ashley Star!! This is crazy!!!
skeeter9: she looks terrified lmfao what has damian done to her
bryan9_: I don’t think he’s even started, lol.
jamhotxx: Is she wearing handcuffs lmfao? SHOW US HER TITS DAMIAN!!!
icelander6x: this is what she said she wanted, dumb bitch

I announce the competition.

damianwest: Competition time! Whoever can guess Ashley’s underwear –type and colour– wins them!
damianwest: Plus –Any comments for Ashley Star, the best one wins her bra!

A stream of guesses and comments immediately follows.

lukex: trick question! she isn’t wearing any underwear!!
icelander6x: Gotta b a thong, tbh…
kevin_spaceman: remember when she called you a disgusting piece of human garbage
kevin_spaceman: and now she is handcuffed on your bed… literally dying lmfao
cynthia95: granny panties lol
bryan9_: White thong like in the picture she took for you??
larryflynt99: Tell her U won’t fuck her if she really, really begs, then fuck her anyway
henry38: STOP DELAYING!!! MY DICK CAN’T TAKE MUCH MORE!!! PLEASE!!!

I look back from the laptop at Ashley fidgeting on the bed –uncomfortable. “Ashley,” I say in a calm, low, steady voice, and stare at her nervous-eyed uncertainty earnestly, a sad look on my face “if you don’t want this –if you don’t want to have…” I put on the kind of false modesty I expect she receives from her dreary, dopey, bore of a boyfriend– “If you don’t want to… make love…” I look bashfully to the side, “I understand.” My eyes trailing to the floor.

–A grin spreading across my face which Ashley can’t see as I hold my head downcast for a few moments, then look back up at her. “But first, we need to find out who won the competition,” I say looking up smiling at her –a smile from side to side, of pure, exuberant, eager joy: today is the day I fuck Ashley Star, whether she wants it or not I don't care. I won. She belongs to me. I push Ashley back onto the bed –grabbing and pulling her, rolling her onto her stomach, her enormous arse wiggling towards the camera as I peel down the tights she’s wearing and expose her white thong. “And the winner is Bryan!” I motion towards the camera with a theatrical gesture of my hand, then with a whoosh of a whip cracking it against Ashley’s arse.

“Well, since this thong doesn't right belong to you anymore, Ashley..." I tug at the elastic of it –first pulling Ashley’s shoes off and throwing them into a corner, then rolling her tights down her chunky, luscious legs, over her muscular carves, and throwing them crumpled in a corner. Slowly the thong comes down –exposing her glistening, bare twat. “Oh, Ashley,” I say, with a deep, bellowing, monstrous laugh. "Maybe you do want to make love after all?" My palmed hand rubbing the outer labia –her well-lubricated cunt sloshing. "Everyone will see! Don't you have any shame, you silly little slut?"