Message-ID: <58009asstr$1218499802@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com From: Tim Dearman <yaboy_uk@yahoo.com> Reply-To: yaboy_uk@yahoo.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable X-Original-Message-ID: <377676.2417.qm@web36604.mail.mud.yahoo.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 11 Aug 2008 08:34:36 -0700 (PDT) Subject: {ASSM} Pop Star's Pastimes - Chapter1 Lines: 298 Date: Mon, 11 Aug 2008 20:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2008/58009> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, dennyw Pop Star's Pastimes - Chapter1 This story is fiction. Entirely. Nothing contained within it is based on any real events. It is adult in nature containing graphic depictions of sex and violence. Including MF FF sex, MFF sex, non-consensual sex and anal sex. If you are under 21, or it is illegal for you to access, download or read such material you must leave this page immediate. As copyright proprietor of this story I authorise you to copy it, distribute it, reprint it in other forms and transfer it to other media types subject to the following exclusions. 1) It must never be made available to people who do not wish to see it. 2) It must never be presented in any form to persons under the age of 21. 3) It must always be credited as my unique work, you may not claim authorship of this work, nor may you claim authorship on behalf of any other person. 4) You may not charge any fee for access to this work, in any form. Other than that, enjoy! Please send any feedback to yaboy_uk@yahoo.com Chapter 1 - Bad memories She may be the most powerful woman in the global music business but Madonna still felt cheated. She had to work like a dog to get where she was today, endlessly promoting herself and her music in all corners of the globe for years before she started to get any real money, influence and power for herself. Today's singers seemed to have it given to them on a plate. They made millions of one or two albums then retired on the proceeds. It wasn't fair. Her first few albums had served mainly to make a few well-connected record industry executives wealthy beyond their wildest dreams, while she had barely enough to maintain the lifestyle her carefully manufactured image demanded. Sure things were different now. She had made millions since then and risen to the very top of the industry, but she still felt bitter about her "lost" early years. The levels she had to stoop to in order to ensure her first got albums released and, of course, to ensure they were successful enough to propel her career to heights that would give her the wealth and power she craved still sickened her. In fact what she had gone through was not that unusual. What was unusual in here case was the frequency and intensity of the abuse she had to endure, but then she was determined to make it quickly and had gone all out to that end. She remembered with a shiver the how she got her first big break in the business. From David "call me Davey" Michelson. She had gone to his office to discuss having him promote her by playing her demo tape to various influential industry figures. She was sure he could help her out, his list of previous clients was an impressive array of successful singers and bands from across the US and Europe. His office was huge. He sat in front of a large window with an impressive view of the Nashville skyline; his desk must have been the size of a small double bed. It was certainly an impressive set-up. She walked the 15 feet from the door at one end to the small uncomfortable looking typist style chair in front of his desk trying to look confident and alert, the way she imagined a star would in these circumstances. He motioned for her to sit down and pressed play on a tape deck that sat on his empty desk. The familiar sound of her demo tape could be heard, but it sounded different to the last time she listened to it. "I hope you don't mind," he said in a manner that indicated he knew she wouldn't "but I ran your tape through some of our computers to make it sound a bit more 'professional'". "No not at all, it sounds great!" she enthused. "Good" he replied, almost under his breath. Rising from his place behind the desk he began to walk around it, passing behind her, and then back around his desk. He did 3 full circuits before hitting the stop button on the tape player. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully he continued to circle the desk and the anxiously waiting Madonna. "It's not bad" he finally came out with. He was stood behind her now, and she craned her neck to look at him. He was speaking to his secretary, who was sat in a leather armchair at the back of the office, next to the door. "I think she could go far. She doesn't have the best voice I've ever heard, but it sounds OK once it's been through the machines. Do you think she has the other qualities it takes to be a star?" Madonna turned her head back to the front. She didn't want him to see the excitement on her face, and she didn't want to see if his secretary shook her head or nodded. "Hard to tell" was the secretary's response. She jumped when she felt his hands on her shoulders. "There's a lot more to having a hit record than just singing a catchy song in tune you know." He said. There was something about his voice that made her skin crawl. His hands started to slide down her upper arms. She felt his fat stomach pushing against the back of her head. "It has to be promoted, there are live appearances and press events to do, all over the country. It's very demanding on a young person." His hands had reached her elbows now and were sliding back up her arms to her shoulders. "You have to be very nice to the right kind of people, and not waste time with others who can't help you." His hands slid back down her arms. He extended his thumbs this time and brushed gently down the sides of her breasts. She couldn't believe he was doing this with his secretary right there in the room. Although she couldn't see exactly what he was doing she must have known he was doing something. Each time his hands slid up and down her arms, his thumbs stroked her breasts more firmly, has hands moving forward around her arms so that the contact of his thumbs moved ever closer to her nipples. Other people in this business had tried it on before, she had knocked them back - firmly but politely - and they had, to a man, failed to offer her any help with her career at all. This guy was certainly the most powerful she had met and, given that his secretary was there and things couldn't get too far out of hand, she decided to let him proceed. His hands moved off of her arms and he placed them directly on her breasts. She shivered slightly and turned her head up to look at him, he quickly took his left hand from her breast and firmly pushed her head back around and down so she was looking away from him and across his desk to the window behind it. Then something happened she hadn't expected. The secretary appeared to her left and placed her note pad on the desk in front of her. He continued to knead her breasts, rubbing the palms of his hands over her nipples in a slow circular manner. If she had found him at all attractive it would certainly have got her going, he knew what he was doing all right, but he smelled of stale cigars and had a belly that wobbled disgustingly as he walked. She could feel his bloated stomach pushing into the back of her head and that wasn't exactly a turn on. Her head was spinning. The arrival of his secretary on the scene had not slowed him in the slightest. In fact she was smiling at Madonna, with a wicked gleam in her eye that made the future star very nervous. She'd come this far, should she stop him now? She would never get a chance to meet someone this powerful again. The work he had done on her crude demo tape had made it sound a hundred times better. There was no doubt he was the man she needed to start her career off. She would go ahead with it. A hand-job, suck him off; hell even let him fuck her if need be. She needed the break he was offering and this was her chance. She refused to be put off over a little unpleasantness. The secretary knelt down on her left and began unbuttoning Madonna's blouse. When she had half the buttons undone she slipped her hands inside, under her bosses ever-busy fingers, which were still massaging her breasts through her blouse, and tweaked her nipples. While 'Davey' disgusted her, his secretary was a different matter. She was tall and beautiful. Very elegantly dressed in a calf length pencil skirt and crisp white blouse, done up to her throat. Her long, straight, jet-black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The tight, form hugging nature of her business attire emphasised her figure, which was breathtaking. Firm breasts strained at her blouse, her rapidly hardening nipples pushing through the silky material indicating that she wasn't wearing a bra. Given this evidence her breasts must be extremely firm indeed, they jiggled just a bit as she swayed slightly from side to side as the movement of her own hands on Madonna's breasts were influenced by the increasingly rough movements of her bosses hands over the top of them. Despite the pressure of that revolting gut, pushing into the back of her head, Madonna found herself responding to the touch of this beautiful woman. Her nipples were hardening and there was a definite warmth in her pussy. She could feel the dampness in her crotch growing. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all; if she could concentrate on the secretary and just ignore her gross boss she may even enjoy it. Groaning to express her disappointment as the secretary removed her hands from inside her blouse; Madonna was shocked by what happened next. With a sudden, lightening quick grab, the secretary pulled Madonna's blouse off her shoulders and down her upper arms to her elbows. While still assessing the way this prevented her from moving her arms from her sides and deciding whether to wriggle free of the restricting garment altogether, she was pleased to find the deliciously young secretary pulling her bra down to expose her ripe breasts to the cool air conditioned office air. As if reading her mind the secretary leaned forward and took the nipple of her right breast into her mouth and sucked greedily on it. Her right hand continued to play with her exposed left breast, whilst her left hand drifted down and dived straight up her skirt and began gently stroking on her rapidly swelling clit. The waves of pleasure running through her body completely distracted her from the actions of 'Davey', who had stepped back from the chair Madonna was sat in and started shedding his clothes. So eager was he to get out of his suit that he staggered and almost fell as he got his leg caught in his trousers. All this passed unnoticed by the soon to be superstar who had both of her hands up her skirt and was pressing the secretaries left hand harder and harder into her crotch. When she felt the hand leave her right breast and move to the small of her back she looked forward to the increased pressure that would come with the greater leverage this afforded her lover. The pressure did not come though. Instead a squeeze on the small of her back and a lift from the hand inside her black lace panties lifted her effortlessly out of the chair and onto her feet. The secretary lifted her expert mouth from Madonna's breast and, leaning back on the desk, pulled her close. She kissed her long and hard on the mouth. Their tongues explored each other's mouths enthusiastically while the secretary's hands drifted to her sides and lifted her skirt up around her waist. They kissed like that for 3 or 4 minutes. Madonna was standing pressed tight against the secretary, who was half sitting on the desk now, her legs slightly spread so that Madonna's left leg was gripped between them. She rubbed her right leg firmly against Madonna's pussy and stroked her ass with her hands. Madonna herself was almost lost. She held the secretary's face in her hands and kissed her as deeply and passionately as she could. She wondered about the man who had instigated all this. She hadn't felt his hands on her for what seemed like an age and began to hope that he was a voyeur. That he would get his kicks watching his secretary and this young, hopeful singer making love in front of him. She was wrong. She felt the distinctive push of his fat stomach at the small of her back again, but this time there was something else. She felt his rigid cock pressing against the right cheek of her ass. It wasn't the tip she felt, but the length. It was standing vertically, sandwiched between his waist and her ass, she could feel it twitching and throbbing as she squirmed in the secretary's embrace. Oh well, she had resigned herself to fucking him earlier so it was no surprise when her prayers for him to get his kicks just watching went unanswered. She raised herself on tiptoe to allow him to enter her, trying all the time to concentrate on the woman in her arms, rather than the pig about to take her from behind. Even this was to be denied her. The secretary twisted away to the side and 'Davey' pushed her tight up against the desk where his secretary had just been. With her arms still pinned to her sides by her blouse she could only brace herself against the desk as she felt his right hand on the back of her head pushing her down so that her face was pressed against the cold wooden surface. With his left hand he pushed down on her hips, forcing her off of her tip-toes and pressing her stomach painfully against the edge of the desk. This confused her. Surely it would be much easier for him to fuck her if she was on tiptoes, her pussy exposed and open to him. Her confusion was replaced by horror when she felt the tip of his rigid cock pressing against her asshole. "No way!" she cried. Experienced as she was she had never let a man fuck her in her ass, and wasn't going to start now! "I said no!" she tried again. He responded with a grunt, pressed her face harder into the desk and thrust his cock forward into her ass. The pain brought tears to her eyes. She struggled but could do nothing. With her arms trapped against her side she could not push against the desk hard enough to stand up against the pressure of his hand on her head and the weight of his body slamming against her ass. She looked around for the secretary. Surely someone who had been so gently as a lover couldn't condone this violent sodomy! What she saw made her heart sink like a stone. The secretary was leaning against the wall, one hand in her panties, through the split side of her skirt, rapidly rubbing her clit. The other was on a video camera that sat on a tripod to the side of the desk. The red light next to the lens left her in no doubt that her abuse was indeed being filmed, and the panting and gasps coming from the secretary confirmed that she was enjoying Madonna's defilement almost as much as her boss. Madonna could do nothing but ride out the punishment. Her ass was so sore now there was hardly any difference in pain whether he was withdrawing his cock and bracing for another thrust, or slamming it forward as far as he could. After what felt like an hour but was only about 5 minutes she felt him tense. A couple of quick thrusts and he buried his come into her tight ass. She could feel it squirting into her insides, the feeling made her want to vomit. He withdrew his cock with an audible pop and turned to his secretary just as she let out a yelp and a shudder ran through her entire body, indicating she had just cum as well. The secretary's became very business like again. She stopped the video camera, adjusted her clothing and carried the camera out of the room. No longer being held up from behind by 'Davey', Madonna slipped from the desk and onto the floor. She sat down hard and the flare of pain in her ass caused her to roll onto her side and pull her legs up to her chest. She could feel his cum leaking from her distended asshole. "There's a bathroom through there if you want to clean up." He said in a cold, matter-of-fact way, indicating a door in the sidewall of his office, behind where the camera had been. Madonna got to her feet and shakily walked into the bathroom. She wiped the cum from her ass, at least no more seemed to be leaking out now, and washed her face. Adjusting her clothing as best she could she walked back out into the office trying to keep her chin up and pretend that she hadn't just been viscously, anally raped. 'Davey' was writing in a diary he had taking from a desk drawer. "I've booked you into our main studio next Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. We'll record a few tracks, try a few styles out and see what fits. Then on Friday we'll meet with some PR guys and plan your introduction to the public." He never once looked up from his diary and Madonna took that as her cue to leave. "Aren't you going to say thank you?" he asked "this is what you wanted after all..." "Thank you" she said, so quietly it could almost not be heard. She heard him chuckling as she walked quickly from his office and down the stairs to the street outside. She had no intention of waiting for an elevator in front of the desk where the secretary who had filmed her humiliation sat. 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