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From: Tim Dearman <yaboy_uk@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Pop Star's Pastimes - Chapter3
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Date: Thu, 11 Sep 2008 12:10:04 -0400
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Pop Star's Pastimes - Chapter3


      

<1st attachment, "Mad-ness3.doc" begin>

Mad-ness3
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 FF sex, MFF
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Chapter 3 - Revenge
She wasn't sure what it was that had pushed her over the edge.
What particular event had turned her from a confident, successful
and sexually open young women, into a sexual deviant with no
interest in the health or welfare of others. All that mattered to
her now was satisfying her own perverse desires, and they seem to
get more extreme as time went on. Perhaps it was dealing with
that scumbag David "call me Davey" Michelson that had introduced
her to the real "Madonna". It had been simple really. He had
sidled up to her at an industry party one night and gave her a
smile that turned her blood cold.
"Remember me?" He asked coyly, when they finally had a private
moment. Knowing beyond doubt that she would never forget the
afternoon his secretary had video taped him violently buggering
her, against her will, across his desk, no matter how successful
she became.
"Of course I do" She spat back at him, wondering how the jerk
made her tremble even now that she was infinitely more powerful
than he. Deciding it was hatred that made her shake now not fear
she waited to hear what he wanted, all the while thinking of the
most insulting way to reject what ever scheme he had concocted
that he was certainly seeking her to finance.
"I have a proposition for you. I still have warm memories of our
time together, and since I regularly enjoy the tape my secretary
made it seems like it was only yesterday!"
She hadn't expected this. She thought he would ignore that event
and wax on about some new business idea that, if she was lucky,
she could invest in, not for him to remind her of the viscous way
he had made her pay to have her demo tape played & promoted. It
was quite normal for aspiring young singers to be taken advantage
of the way she had been but, once they became successful, the
abuse they had to endure to get there was ignored as if it never
happened. No one talked about it openly and all the performers
were left wondering just what their peers had been forced to
endure to get to where they were. Even the perpetrators
themselves never discussed such things. It was assumed that if
you had handled a celebrity early on in their career you had
enjoyed them in a way few could dream of, but they preferred to
leave their colleagues to guess just exactly what they had
managed to get away with before their charges were famous. When
it was the first thing he mentioned she was a bit nonplussed by
it.
"What! I mean, err..." her usually calm demeanour seemed to be
failing her in the face of his bravado.
"Don't worry my dear; your secrets are safe with me. In fact
that's what I want to talk to you about." He was smiling broadly
now, but she could see it was a front. He was nervous about
something and that made her confidence come flooding back.
"And what, exactly, do you mean by that!" she was still unsure
about what he had in mind but forced herself to take charge of
the situation. If she could successfully negotiate multimillion
dollar recording contracts with some of the sharpest legal minds
on the planet she wasn't going to let one barely successful
musical agent get the upper hand with her.
"Nothing too bad, I assure you. It's just that, well, I owe a
considerable amount of money to some rather unpleasant
characters. Some deals of mine went wrong and now they are
insisting on payment in full and I'm just about skint. In fact
the only asset I have that is worth anywhere near the sums in
question is our little tape." He seemed less sure of himself now,
maybe because of the implications of what he just said, maybe
because of her newly recovered confidence.
So that was it, blackmail! He must really be desperate. Just as
no one talked about these things, no one took advantage of
successful people either for fear of exposing the whole industry
and ruining everyone's 'fun'. He would not have taken the
decision to do this lightly as it would certainly mean the end of
his career in the entertainment business.
He continued almost apologetically "I really am at my whit's end.
I need to find 1.3 million by one week today or they'll kill me.
I figure I could get 1 million for the tape on the open market,
that would buy me some time, but if you were to buy it from me
for the full 1.3 million you wouldn't have to deal with the
unpleasantness that would go with its release. As a bonus you
could be confident that the tape could never come back to haunt
you again in the future...."
"How do I know you wouldn't keep a copy and sell that, or come
back in the future for more!" She demanded to know.
"Because I've kept quiet about it this long haven't I!" he
struggled to keep his voice down, his eyes darting around to
ensure no one was listening "I like my career and just want to
forget this whole business and move on. Believe me I won't let
myself get into this sort of position again! I guess you'll just
have to trust that I value my career more highly than the money I
could make from keeping a copy"
"I'll have to think about it, give your 'phone number to my
assistant and I'll call you tomorrow" She was already scheming
about how to deal with him. Certainly she wasn't going to pay him
any money, especially after he had referred to it as 'our' tape.
As if she'd been a willing and eager participant.
"Make it the morning, I'm meeting with the bosses of some
Internet sites tomorrow afternoon and if I haven't heard from you
I'll have to make a deal with them."
"I'll call you before noon." With that she turned her back on
him, walking off to talk to some film producers that she knew
were pencilled in to make a movie she very much wanted to star
in.
As the limo took her back to her luxurious Beverly Hills mansion
an idea was beginning to form in her head. This little shit would
be dealt with once and for all. She made a call on her cell
'phone to a private investigator she had used in the past to help
her gather evidence on a stalker that had plagued her for years.
He was safely locked in a mental institution now, thanks to Bert
Jennings. What she had particularly liked about him was the fact
that, on failing to find enough evidence to deal with the bastard
that was following her, he simply manufactured it. He had been a
senior detective with the LAPD and knew exactly how to make
things look genuine enough to convince a judge and a
psychological review board. She was sure he was just the man she
needed to help with this little problem.
She rang 'Davey' at 11:58am. She wasn't sure but it sounded like
he was shaking when she told him she agreed to buy the tape on
one condition. She wanted all of his tapes. Every tape he had
ever made of himself with rising starlets of the music industry,
in over 30 years in the business. She wanted to be sure he wasn't
going to pull this stunt on anyone else, she said. He had
objected at first. Saying it wouldn't be fair on the people on
the tapes. How would she like it if another singer got hold of
her tape that way? She reassured him that she only wanted to
destroy the tapes. If he was really worried about the
confidentiality of his other 'victims', and she emphasised the
word, he could watch her burn the tapes before he left.
This didn't seem to surprise him as much as it might, in fact he
was a lot more eager to agree than she expected. Some people, on
making it to the top, tried to change things. They set up there
own companies, which they monitored closely to ensure others
never went through what they themselves had. These companies
inevitably failed. The best executives wouldn't work for them as
they valued their 'perks' more highly than their salaries. In the
absence of skilled and experienced executives these companies
soon failed and their founders gave up and concentrated on their
careers or, more often, were dragged into financial and
professional ruin. He guessed she was trying to appease her guilt
at getting ahead by agreeing to things that other, more talented,
youngsters refused.
He didn't like the idea of losing his collection but this way he
could keep working in the industry and he'd soon have a new
collection. The new 'talent' coming through his offices these
days was much better than in the past anyway. The lure of stardom
was more powerful than ever and young people's minds were so much
more open than before. He would soon have an all-new library of
conquests, and they would all be preserved in digital quality
rather than the grainy, worn out VHS collection he had at the
moment. Most people imagined the levels of sexual deviance in
show business as being far beyond the norm and some suspected
young hopefuls, bright eyed and eager, earned a bit of special
career advancement their talent didn't justify by providing
sexual favours to well positioned business men and women. Many
imagined the upper echelons of the music and film industry as
hotbeds of lust and depravity fed by the endless stream of
attractive teenagers who would 'do anything' to get into show
business. Most people had no idea just how depraved and perverted
these industries were and he was a real connoisseur of
depravity.
The arrangements were made. He was to arrive at her house at 11pm
that evening. She would have the money ready for him, in the form
a non-negotiable bankers draft made out to cash. He would pick
her up and they would drive together to where he had the tapes.
She would leave with the tapes and he would keep the draft,
simple really.
'Davey' left the motel at 10pm. He had booked in earlier that day
and placed the box of videocassettes on the bed while he took a
shower. He would leave the tapes here with a 'Do not disturb'
sign on the door while he went to pick up Madonna, they would
come back here. She would get her tapes and he would get his
money. Everyone would be happy. He had no idea he was being set
up. His years of abusing the teenage girls that came through his
studios had led him to see it as something almost normal. He
could not comprehend the level of hatred Madonna had for him and
the lengths she would go to for revenge.
He arrived at her house at 10:50. Pressing the intercom at her
locked gate he heard a familiar voice.
"Come up to the house, I've given the security staff the night
off. I don't want anyone knowing about our 'business' here
tonight"
"On my way" he replied nervously. He still had no idea what was
in store for him.
When he got to the house she was waiting for him at the open
front door. She looked amazing. Her hair was up in a bun, pulled
back from her face and secured with a large black clip. She wore
a long black coat that was buttoned to from her throat to her
knees. This made him smile, he still had some power over her as
she was obviously so uncomfortable in his presence that she felt
she had to cover every inch of her flesh from his gaze. He got
out of the car and walked up to her.
"Show me the draft and you can follow me to where I have hidden
the tapes" He was trying hard to seem in control of the
situation.
"Not just yet" she said coyly, the edge of her lip curly up in a
half smile "I have something I want you to help me with first.
Come in for a minute, would you like a drink?"
"You know I've left instruction on where to find the tapes if
something 'happens' to me" he bluffed. He was very nervous now.
He shouldn't have come here. He should have met her in a public
place.
"Don't worry; I think you even might enjoy this!"
That piqued his interest. He followed her into the house, through
the large hallway and into her private office.
"OK." He was surprised at the strength in his voice, he was very
worried "what do you want?"
"Well I've been thinking about what's on that tape." She started
unbuttoning her coat "you know my tastes have turned more and
more towards the more extreme forms of pleasure since we knew
each other. I may not have enjoyed our encounter before but I'm
sure I'd think differently about it now. That's why I want to
recreate it now. Sought of purge the bad memories from my mind
and replace them with pleasant ones!" she finished unbuttoning
her coat and pulled it apart.
His breath caught in his throat. She was wearing a red PVC
basque, with what looked like latex stockings, also red, held up
by suspenders that attached to the basque with delicate silk
ribbons.
"What... I don't... I mean of course!" His eyes lit up. He could
feel his cock stiffening in his jeans as he moved towards her.
His hands went to her waist and he went to kiss her.
She put a hand on his chin and pushed him away.
"Oh no, things are different now. I'm not going to be the victim
this time."
His nervousness returned.
"She is!" Madonna gestured to the office doorway where a stunning
young blond girl was standing. She was dressed exactly as Madonna
would have in her early career. A white cotton blouse with lace
ruffles that strained over her breasts. Black, impossibly tight,
miniskirt and fishnet stockings with high-heeled pixie boots. She
looked almost exactly like Madonna had that time in his office,
though this girl was far prettier. She had large doe eyes, a tiny
cute little nose and exquisitely chiselled cheekbones. There was
something else as well. When she had been in his charge all those
years ago, Madonna had been nearly 18 years old. This girl looked
16 at the eldest. His jaw dropped and his cock twitched painfully
in his jeans.
The girl was in fact 19 years old. She came from an agency that
Madonna often used to spice up her private parties. This girl
specialised in looking younger than she was and had been a
particular hit at an event Madonna had thrown for a select group
some months before. It had been a High School theme and this girl
had been the main attraction, dressed as the prom queen she had
been taken by every man at the party, and most of the women. When
Madonna called her personally and asked her to do a private scene
with her she had been very keen to do it 'unofficially'. By
cutting out the agency she could keep the whole 10 thousand
dollar fee and not pay them their 20 percent.
"This is how it's going to work." She could tell he was hooked
now. The emergence of this beautiful girl, coupled with the
prospect of defiling her as he had Madonna years before had
driven out any doubts he had and replaced them with raw lust.
"Patricia here will play the role of the young me. You will play
yourself, and I will play the Evil Queen, orchestrating events!"
"Sure thing!" he couldn't contain his eagerness.
"Yes your Majesty" replied Patricia, keeping her eyes on the
floor.
"What are you waiting for Davey? Go get her and bring her to me!"
she commanded. She was starting to get into this. She would have
to be careful. This was not about pleasure, this was about
revenge!
Davey dived forward and grabbed at Patricia's breasts. He
squeezed them forcefully and dug his fingers into their soft
flesh. Patricia squealed and tried to back away. She was stopped
by Madonna grabbing her hair. Davey looked up and kissed Patricia
full on the mouth. At first she tried to keep her mouth shut but
eventually let him slide his tongue in. She knew she had to play
the role of the unwilling victim and was happy to go ahead with
it. Madonna had stepped in when one of the movie producers at her
party had tried to get rough with her and she trusted her now to
stop this going to far.
Madonna pulled them apart. "Lets move this over to the desk, I
seem to remember that was were the fun happened last time". Davey
stopped trying to maul Patricia's breasts and backed off. Using
her hair to steer her around Davey Madonna guided Patricia to the
desk, she sat herself on the edge of the desk and wrapped her
calves around the bottom half of Patricia's legs. She pulled her
blouse down off of her shoulders and kissed her on a mouth. She
broke the kiss briefly to speak to Davey, who was practically
drooling at the erotic sight in front of him. "Come on then
Davey, bugger this slut like you buggered me all those years
ago!". She pulled Patricia's skirt up to her waist and Davey
required no further invitation. He freed his cock from his jeans
and jumped into position behind the now struggling young hooker.
A re-assuring look from Madonna made Patricia relax somewhat and
then she felt Davey's cock pushing at her sensitive asshole.
Normally she would have insisted on a condom for anal sex, but
she knew from experience that Madonna never partied with people
who weren't checked and verified as disease free so she bit her
lip and thought of the 10 grand.
With a thrust Davey was inside her. He immediately started
pumping back and forth. He was dangerously close to cumming
already but he didn't care. This was just incredible and, he
almost had to pinch himself, when it was over he would be picking
up a cheque for a cool 1.3 million dollars! He moved his head to
the side of Patricia's and watched Madonna licking the tears that
were now streaming from the young Patricia's face. Was it
possible that this girl was as young as she looked? Was she an
unwillingly participant? The very possibility sent him over the
edge at he came, long and hard, deep in the young girls ass.
He staggered backwards and sat down on a convenient chair.
Madonna kissed Patricia once more, got a smile in return, and
then gently pushed her away. She stalked up to where Davey was
sat and stroked his cheek.
"Did you enjoy that? I know I feel much better!"
"Wow!" was all Davey could manage.
"Patricia, come here!" Madonna demanded in a stern, cold voice.
The girl responded immediately, moving over to stand in front of
them. "I want you to lick his cock clean!"
Davey couldn't believe it. Patricia immediately dropped to her
knees and started lapping at Davey's flaccid dick. It immediately
started to stiffen. Would there be time for another? Why not.
Madonna was obviously more depraved even than him. He should take
advantage while he could.
His eyes were shut when he felt Patricia's mouth leave his cock.
He opened his eyes just in time to see Madonna drag a wicked
looking knife across her throat. Blood sprayed from the wound,
drenching the front of his clothes and covering his shrinking
member. He was stunned. He couldn't speak. Couldn't move.
Couldn't even think.
He felt a jolt; from the corner of his eye he saw a stun gun in
Madonna's hand, pressed against his hip. The current surged
through his body and he slumped unconscious in his seat.
When he came to he was sat in his car, in front of Madonna's main
gate. The car was embedded in the gate, as if it had hit them at
high speed. He still couldn't move his arms and legs properly.
His memory of the murder he had witnessed came flooding back. He
saw his was still drenched in her blood. The passenger window was
open and Madonna was leaning through it grinning. The smell of
petrol hit his nostrils and he chocked back the vomit rising in
his throat.
"You though you could blackmail me did you, you shit! Well guess
what, it seems you're a stalker. You've been pestering me for
months. I have the letters to prove it! And what's this?" she
took a piece of paper from her pocket and placed it in a metal
container. "Why, it's your suicide note. It seems if you can't
have me you don't want to go on. The dead hooker in the trunk,
dressed like I used to in the eighties is an elegant touch don't
you think."
"You'll never get away with this!" he stammered, "They'll find
the tapes."
"Do you think I'm stupid? I've been having you followed. I got a
call just before you arrived here to let me know that my man had
secured your tapes and was on his way here. He's the one who took
your car and crashed it into my gates! Now a quick call to the
LAPD. 'Someone just rammed my gates. I'm very scared. It's my
bodyguard's night off. I've been getting threatening letters.
He's pouring something over himself. Oh my God! It must have been
petrol, the whole car just turned into an inferno! Please, please
hurry!' and people say I can't act!"
She flicked the lit match into the car and jogged back up to the
house smiling.

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