anonymous
11-01-2007, 03:46 PM
STARFUCK
Not to be read by anyone under 18. This story contains
explicit descriptions of non-consensual sex. If this offends
you, please look elsewhere. This is FICTION. If you are
tempted to recreate the following scenes, your psychiatrist is
going to be a very happy
man......
Starfuck is designed to be a series of STAND ALONE stories
(much like the Hypno-Celeb franchise). However, each story
will feature the same protagonist - an individual with the
power to control people's minds. At some point, I might
determine the limitations of this power (ie how many people he
can control at any one time), but for now all you need know is
that in order for control to be established he must have skin-
to-skin contact with his target, though only for a split
second. Now, lets just kick back and watch him put his talent
to good use.....
Comments and suggestions for future stories always welcome!
It's your suggestions that keep me writing..........
abeelzebub@hotmail.com
Starfuck: WTA Stars
by Mephistopheles
MC, MF, FF, CELEB
This is a sequel to my earlier Hingis & Kournikova story - the
WTA seemed to have enough potential for a follow-up.
Apologies; this story should have been aired while Wimbledon
was still upon us. Just as well there aren't any golf babes
to speak of.......
Martina Hingis has always been able to do incredible things
with a tennis racket. This talent has not deserted her.
Currently, she has worked over twelve inches of its shaft deep
into her cunt. Her face is etched with exertion and
concentration - she has been at it for forty-five minutes now
without any prospect thus far of relief.
Slipping into her mind, I can feel her frustration - the only
outward sign of which are the tears welled but not discharged
in the corner of her eyes - both at her inability to wrest
back control of her body, and at her fruitless quest to
climax. This is coupled with quite
considerable pain. For the best part of an hour, she has been
pumping her racket into her snatch - understandably, she is
now rather sore. The last few months have been educational for
the prodigious Ms Hingis; when I first established control she
was unable to get more than seven inches of the shaft into
herself - but then she has always been a fast learner.......
I watch Hingis' performance from my position on the couch.
Between my legs kneels her doubles partner, Anna Kournikova;
giving evidence that her deep throat technique is easily the
equal of her tennis strokes. Kournikova is the undoubted
glamour girl of the WTA - an icy blond bombshell, with a
knockout physique and a pleasing
preference for form hugging clothes. In the last few months
that she has been under my tutorage (not to mention other
parts of my
anatomy....), I have emphasised this aspect of her image,
simultaneously diluting her actual tennis talent. It pleases
me that Anna is known solely for her body, not her game.....
Looking back, it was an inspired idea to 'persuade' these two
young stars to play doubles together, providing ample
opportunity to titillate the audience with regard to the real
nature of their
relationship. Close observers (and, lets face it, when these
two are on court, who doesn't pay attention?) have noted the
ease with which Hingis loses concentration during their
matches. Might it not have something to do with the
attractive distraction of her partner's wriggling arse in her
line of sight? They might trade ground strokes on court, but,
off court, they trade strokes of an altogether different kind
- a performance available only to a more select (nee rich)
audience.....
Looking at the sweat on Martina's brow, I almost feel a degree
of sympathy. She's trying so hard to climax, giving it her
all; to no avail. As it is, it is not sympathy I feel but
arousal. My hands find the back of Anna's head and begin to
pull her back and forth. I fuck her mouth with still greater
force (nothing the little Russian cannot take though - she has
quickly developed the technique of a pro under my tutorage),
before finally shooting my seed into her throat. Responding
to her training, she does not spill a drop. Thereafter, I
instruct her to go share with Miss Hingis - young athletes
must take what protein they can find.......
Although I enjoy the diversion this pair offer, I am not
limited in imagination. There are a number of fine specimens
gracing the women's game at present, and, in Hingis and
Kournikova, I have possession of the ideal bait.......
The girls of the WTA have always been popular fodder with my
clientele. And, unlike the majority of the British public,
their interest does not exist solely during the Wimbledon
fortnight. Having said that, SW19 certainly galvanises my
clients' fascination; there's nothing quite like the sheerness
of a white blouse when soaked with sweat.....
Many of the top WTA stars have performed at my club - the
Williams sisters, Dokic, Mary Pierce.... I particularly
enjoyed the taking of the haughty Ms Pierce. Recent
speculation had suggested that her body had become a little
too muscular, too masculine, to be
considered attractive. A nonsense exposed by her popularity
among the punters - an entire crowd jostled for position
during her humiliation. I myself found her physique more than
satisfactory, though I must confess to veiling her face; her
face was not her most appealing feature..... In fact,
Pierce's muscles actually heightened her appeal - only
Kournikova, Hingis, and an old favourite, Gabriella Sabitini,
have proven more popular acquisitions to date.
Currently, I am sampling the rather remarkable technique of
Amanda Coetzer. This name might not be entirely familiar with
my audience; a crying shame (an apt choice of words, since
tears of helplessness are Amanda's only means of rebellion...)
given the immense attraction of Coetzer's wiggle. Allow me to
explain. Anybody who has watched Amanda play cannot have
failed to notice her stance as she prepares to receive serve;
her ass wiggles at such speed, pushed high by her low hunch,
racket twirled suggestively, legs locked at 45 degrees -
viagra on a tennis court....
Coetzer's grand slam record suggests that her prime endowment
is her ass, an asset I now have the opportunity of
scrutinising. At the present moment, Ms Coetzer has adopted
her service return position, facing away from me and
presenting an excellent vantage point of her delightful
wiggle. The only differences from her demeanour on court is
the absence of racket and clothing. Sitting behind her, I
reach out and slide a finger between her buttocks, tracing my
way down until I reach her snatch. It is immaculately shaven.
It is also extremely wet. I must confess that both of these
facts can be laid at my
door......
With but a brief pause, I gleefully slid a pair of fingers
into the South African's cunt. She continues her erotic
wiggle as I finger fuck her, drawing the occasional gasp of
pleasure from my prey as I hit a particular depth. Fun though
this is, my swollen cock informs me that I am ready for more
interactive games....
Pulling out, I reposition my hands on her hips, easing her
back towards me. When she is in position, I pull her down;
impaling her on my dick. She sits on my lap, facing away from
me, pumping her ass back and forth - I like to let the lady do
the work......
Enjoyable though these diversions are, that is all they
constitute; diversions. They take up little of my time, and,
by association, provide only moderate satisfaction. This is
not to belittle the girls - fine specimens to a tee - but, as
so often in life, the chase is more fulfilling than the kill.
I have rather higher expectations of my latest scheme. I
began the plot several months ago - immediately after the
capture of Hingis and Kournikova - and, fittingly, it involves
the dominant figure of tennis in recent years; Steffi Graf.
Ever since they entered my service my teenage starlets have
been working on Miss Graf; teasing and tempting her with
provocative glimpses of their very desirable flesh. The brief
meeting I have had with Steffi has left her susceptible to
these advances - a simple matter of tapping her latent
potential for lesbianism. Thereafter, Graf has found herself
increasingly attracted to her competitors - a fact she was
barely able to conceal at a pre- Wimbledon exhibition
(arranged by yours truly...). There, Steffi's strange lapses
of concentration during her humiliating defeat by Kournikova
were evident to all. Rather less evident, but nevertheless
captured by those photographers I chose to brief, were her
glances across at her opponent. By strange coincidence, these
sightings invariably occurred when Anna was bending down to
tie her shoelaces (an event that occurred with unnatural
regularity during their match). It was almost as if Steffi
was ogling her opponent's ass. Of course, in the end Steffi
will be helpless to resist; she will submit and her threesome
with Anna and Martina will be captured on video for posterity
(not to mention maximum humiliation). But that is for the
future, for the present I manage to find adequate diversion.
One of the most pleasurable pursuits of the Wimbledon
fortnight is the eyeing of the player's girlfriends. This
year's tournament provided a perfect specimen in the shape of
Henman's Lucy Heald. Daughter of a prominent Harvey Street
doctor, Lucy is the epitome of the upper middle class
lifestyle; cool and sophisticated with an air of superiority.
With her short blond hair and designer shades, she oozes class
- the type of woman I cannot help wanting to defile; strip
away that control (not to mention one or two garments). I
have had my sights on Ms Heald for some time; however, the
championship turned up a surprise package - Lucy Connor.
Connor is the fiancee of perennial under-achiever Greg
Rusedski. Fittingly, she is the opposite of Heald; a less
well bred brunette, with a pleasing propensity for form
hugging fabrics that just borders on cheap - together they
form a quite
devastatingly sexy pair.
With my SW19 contacts and my powers of persuasion it was
pathetically easy to introduce myself to my prey.
Interestingly, mirroring the rivalry of their partners, the
two Lucys were not exactly bosom buddies. Their contrasting
backgrounds seem to have left
relations rather frosty between them. Nevermind, I am
confident in my role as peace-broker; pretty soon, they'll be
warming up
considerably......
The room is deep within the labyrinth of my Beelzebub club.
There is only one piece of furniture - a luxurious double-bed
- nothing else is needed, since there is only one reason for
frequenting this particular establishment. The wall are glass
- designed for one-way viewing. Although I obtained the two
Lucys for my own personal
pleasure, I have since received quite substantial offers from
several British players. The desire to humiliate their rivals
via their women was one I found satisfying, thus a rather
larger audience has assembled than expected for the girls'
first performance.
As expected, Connor proves the more aggressive lover. She
quickly gets into her stride, french kissing her companion as
if lesbianism were the norm. Soon, she is nibbling on Heald's
nipples, before easing them into a sixty-nine position. As
her partner dives in with evident relish, Heald still hangs
back slightly. I have left enough of her own mind for her to
be disgusted by the prospect of carpet munching (I note with
interest that she has never even blown Tim - a reticence I
will soon rectify). However, ultimately the choice is not
hers. Unwillingly, she begins to lap at Connor's cunt,
accurately mimicking the procedure being simultaneously
performed on her own genitalia. Behind the mirror, the guys
wank furiously at this debasement. Something tells me they
are eager to be more personally involved. Not a problem. I
doubt the girls will be able to vocalise their disinclination
to gang-bang......
Not to be read by anyone under 18. This story contains
explicit descriptions of non-consensual sex. If this offends
you, please look elsewhere. This is FICTION. If you are
tempted to recreate the following scenes, your psychiatrist is
going to be a very happy
man......
Starfuck is designed to be a series of STAND ALONE stories
(much like the Hypno-Celeb franchise). However, each story
will feature the same protagonist - an individual with the
power to control people's minds. At some point, I might
determine the limitations of this power (ie how many people he
can control at any one time), but for now all you need know is
that in order for control to be established he must have skin-
to-skin contact with his target, though only for a split
second. Now, lets just kick back and watch him put his talent
to good use.....
Comments and suggestions for future stories always welcome!
It's your suggestions that keep me writing..........
abeelzebub@hotmail.com
Starfuck: WTA Stars
by Mephistopheles
MC, MF, FF, CELEB
This is a sequel to my earlier Hingis & Kournikova story - the
WTA seemed to have enough potential for a follow-up.
Apologies; this story should have been aired while Wimbledon
was still upon us. Just as well there aren't any golf babes
to speak of.......
Martina Hingis has always been able to do incredible things
with a tennis racket. This talent has not deserted her.
Currently, she has worked over twelve inches of its shaft deep
into her cunt. Her face is etched with exertion and
concentration - she has been at it for forty-five minutes now
without any prospect thus far of relief.
Slipping into her mind, I can feel her frustration - the only
outward sign of which are the tears welled but not discharged
in the corner of her eyes - both at her inability to wrest
back control of her body, and at her fruitless quest to
climax. This is coupled with quite
considerable pain. For the best part of an hour, she has been
pumping her racket into her snatch - understandably, she is
now rather sore. The last few months have been educational for
the prodigious Ms Hingis; when I first established control she
was unable to get more than seven inches of the shaft into
herself - but then she has always been a fast learner.......
I watch Hingis' performance from my position on the couch.
Between my legs kneels her doubles partner, Anna Kournikova;
giving evidence that her deep throat technique is easily the
equal of her tennis strokes. Kournikova is the undoubted
glamour girl of the WTA - an icy blond bombshell, with a
knockout physique and a pleasing
preference for form hugging clothes. In the last few months
that she has been under my tutorage (not to mention other
parts of my
anatomy....), I have emphasised this aspect of her image,
simultaneously diluting her actual tennis talent. It pleases
me that Anna is known solely for her body, not her game.....
Looking back, it was an inspired idea to 'persuade' these two
young stars to play doubles together, providing ample
opportunity to titillate the audience with regard to the real
nature of their
relationship. Close observers (and, lets face it, when these
two are on court, who doesn't pay attention?) have noted the
ease with which Hingis loses concentration during their
matches. Might it not have something to do with the
attractive distraction of her partner's wriggling arse in her
line of sight? They might trade ground strokes on court, but,
off court, they trade strokes of an altogether different kind
- a performance available only to a more select (nee rich)
audience.....
Looking at the sweat on Martina's brow, I almost feel a degree
of sympathy. She's trying so hard to climax, giving it her
all; to no avail. As it is, it is not sympathy I feel but
arousal. My hands find the back of Anna's head and begin to
pull her back and forth. I fuck her mouth with still greater
force (nothing the little Russian cannot take though - she has
quickly developed the technique of a pro under my tutorage),
before finally shooting my seed into her throat. Responding
to her training, she does not spill a drop. Thereafter, I
instruct her to go share with Miss Hingis - young athletes
must take what protein they can find.......
Although I enjoy the diversion this pair offer, I am not
limited in imagination. There are a number of fine specimens
gracing the women's game at present, and, in Hingis and
Kournikova, I have possession of the ideal bait.......
The girls of the WTA have always been popular fodder with my
clientele. And, unlike the majority of the British public,
their interest does not exist solely during the Wimbledon
fortnight. Having said that, SW19 certainly galvanises my
clients' fascination; there's nothing quite like the sheerness
of a white blouse when soaked with sweat.....
Many of the top WTA stars have performed at my club - the
Williams sisters, Dokic, Mary Pierce.... I particularly
enjoyed the taking of the haughty Ms Pierce. Recent
speculation had suggested that her body had become a little
too muscular, too masculine, to be
considered attractive. A nonsense exposed by her popularity
among the punters - an entire crowd jostled for position
during her humiliation. I myself found her physique more than
satisfactory, though I must confess to veiling her face; her
face was not her most appealing feature..... In fact,
Pierce's muscles actually heightened her appeal - only
Kournikova, Hingis, and an old favourite, Gabriella Sabitini,
have proven more popular acquisitions to date.
Currently, I am sampling the rather remarkable technique of
Amanda Coetzer. This name might not be entirely familiar with
my audience; a crying shame (an apt choice of words, since
tears of helplessness are Amanda's only means of rebellion...)
given the immense attraction of Coetzer's wiggle. Allow me to
explain. Anybody who has watched Amanda play cannot have
failed to notice her stance as she prepares to receive serve;
her ass wiggles at such speed, pushed high by her low hunch,
racket twirled suggestively, legs locked at 45 degrees -
viagra on a tennis court....
Coetzer's grand slam record suggests that her prime endowment
is her ass, an asset I now have the opportunity of
scrutinising. At the present moment, Ms Coetzer has adopted
her service return position, facing away from me and
presenting an excellent vantage point of her delightful
wiggle. The only differences from her demeanour on court is
the absence of racket and clothing. Sitting behind her, I
reach out and slide a finger between her buttocks, tracing my
way down until I reach her snatch. It is immaculately shaven.
It is also extremely wet. I must confess that both of these
facts can be laid at my
door......
With but a brief pause, I gleefully slid a pair of fingers
into the South African's cunt. She continues her erotic
wiggle as I finger fuck her, drawing the occasional gasp of
pleasure from my prey as I hit a particular depth. Fun though
this is, my swollen cock informs me that I am ready for more
interactive games....
Pulling out, I reposition my hands on her hips, easing her
back towards me. When she is in position, I pull her down;
impaling her on my dick. She sits on my lap, facing away from
me, pumping her ass back and forth - I like to let the lady do
the work......
Enjoyable though these diversions are, that is all they
constitute; diversions. They take up little of my time, and,
by association, provide only moderate satisfaction. This is
not to belittle the girls - fine specimens to a tee - but, as
so often in life, the chase is more fulfilling than the kill.
I have rather higher expectations of my latest scheme. I
began the plot several months ago - immediately after the
capture of Hingis and Kournikova - and, fittingly, it involves
the dominant figure of tennis in recent years; Steffi Graf.
Ever since they entered my service my teenage starlets have
been working on Miss Graf; teasing and tempting her with
provocative glimpses of their very desirable flesh. The brief
meeting I have had with Steffi has left her susceptible to
these advances - a simple matter of tapping her latent
potential for lesbianism. Thereafter, Graf has found herself
increasingly attracted to her competitors - a fact she was
barely able to conceal at a pre- Wimbledon exhibition
(arranged by yours truly...). There, Steffi's strange lapses
of concentration during her humiliating defeat by Kournikova
were evident to all. Rather less evident, but nevertheless
captured by those photographers I chose to brief, were her
glances across at her opponent. By strange coincidence, these
sightings invariably occurred when Anna was bending down to
tie her shoelaces (an event that occurred with unnatural
regularity during their match). It was almost as if Steffi
was ogling her opponent's ass. Of course, in the end Steffi
will be helpless to resist; she will submit and her threesome
with Anna and Martina will be captured on video for posterity
(not to mention maximum humiliation). But that is for the
future, for the present I manage to find adequate diversion.
One of the most pleasurable pursuits of the Wimbledon
fortnight is the eyeing of the player's girlfriends. This
year's tournament provided a perfect specimen in the shape of
Henman's Lucy Heald. Daughter of a prominent Harvey Street
doctor, Lucy is the epitome of the upper middle class
lifestyle; cool and sophisticated with an air of superiority.
With her short blond hair and designer shades, she oozes class
- the type of woman I cannot help wanting to defile; strip
away that control (not to mention one or two garments). I
have had my sights on Ms Heald for some time; however, the
championship turned up a surprise package - Lucy Connor.
Connor is the fiancee of perennial under-achiever Greg
Rusedski. Fittingly, she is the opposite of Heald; a less
well bred brunette, with a pleasing propensity for form
hugging fabrics that just borders on cheap - together they
form a quite
devastatingly sexy pair.
With my SW19 contacts and my powers of persuasion it was
pathetically easy to introduce myself to my prey.
Interestingly, mirroring the rivalry of their partners, the
two Lucys were not exactly bosom buddies. Their contrasting
backgrounds seem to have left
relations rather frosty between them. Nevermind, I am
confident in my role as peace-broker; pretty soon, they'll be
warming up
considerably......
The room is deep within the labyrinth of my Beelzebub club.
There is only one piece of furniture - a luxurious double-bed
- nothing else is needed, since there is only one reason for
frequenting this particular establishment. The wall are glass
- designed for one-way viewing. Although I obtained the two
Lucys for my own personal
pleasure, I have since received quite substantial offers from
several British players. The desire to humiliate their rivals
via their women was one I found satisfying, thus a rather
larger audience has assembled than expected for the girls'
first performance.
As expected, Connor proves the more aggressive lover. She
quickly gets into her stride, french kissing her companion as
if lesbianism were the norm. Soon, she is nibbling on Heald's
nipples, before easing them into a sixty-nine position. As
her partner dives in with evident relish, Heald still hangs
back slightly. I have left enough of her own mind for her to
be disgusted by the prospect of carpet munching (I note with
interest that she has never even blown Tim - a reticence I
will soon rectify). However, ultimately the choice is not
hers. Unwillingly, she begins to lap at Connor's cunt,
accurately mimicking the procedure being simultaneously
performed on her own genitalia. Behind the mirror, the guys
wank furiously at this debasement. Something tells me they
are eager to be more personally involved. Not a problem. I
doubt the girls will be able to vocalise their disinclination
to gang-bang......