Off the Coast of Somalia

"With that said, I'm going to videotape each and every one of you to show the world that you've been captured. It's perfect that today is National Nude Day and that all of you will be naked while on camera. In one live video shoot we'll accomplish two things," I said with a smile of victory. "We'll show the world how beautiful, young, and vital you still look and we'll have the world's worried sympathy for your safe return. You'll be overnight celebrities again. They'll be talk show requests and book and movie deals. Trust me, you'll see. Your stars will shine again."

Now, I had their attention. Now, they were willing to do whatever I wanted them to do. I had them all where I wanted, eating out of my hand. They all knew that I was about to launch their careers again by shooting their stars high across the sky and to be seen by the entire world.

"Who's first?" I surveyed my eighteen celebrities for my most fallen celebrity star. "Christie, let's have you first. Strip out of that bikini and sit in this chair. I'm just going to bind your wrists and your ankles loosely with some duct tape and mess up your hair to show that you've been kidnapped."

As soon as she stripped naked, I remembered her. It had been so long since I had sex with her. She was one of my first celebrities to deflower. She was so Heavenly beautiful, an Angel on Earth. Admittedly she looked better out of bed than she did in bed. Yet, she was a cold fish this one, disinterested and continually fixing her hair and makeup, she possessed little passion.

I remembered the sex I had with her was mechanical, as if she was posing on a catwalk, but she was so strikingly beautiful. Preoccupied with her schedule of events back then, as if looking at her watch, she allowed me to fuck her without even so much as returning my humps. Having sex with Christie Brinkley, one of the most beautiful women in the world, was almost like fucking an unconscious woman, not that I ever had sex with an unconscious woman. Still, it was worth being the victim of her cool disinterest to brag, while having cocktails at the club or a cigar with my friends, that I had sex with Christie Brinkley.

With shoulders back and breasts out, Christie sat in her chair looking so much more like the in-control model than the victim. She was still so stunningly beautiful to see, especially when naked. Good genes aside, albeit a bit of cosmetic surgery here and there, it was still obvious that she had worked hard to keep herself in shape. With toned stomach, arms, and thighs, maybe that Total Body Gym that she hypes with Chuck Norris really does work.

"Easy with the hair, Saulski, I want to look my best on my televised premier," she said lifting her chin as if she was surveying the crowd at an exclusive cocktail party held in the Hamptons with her ex-husband Billy Joel, instead of appearing as if she was just kidnapped by Somali hijackers.

"I just want to fluff it up a bit so that you don't look like your modeling and faking this shot," I said trying to muss up someone who didn't want to be mussed. "I need this to look real and believable; instead of having you sit there looking like Miss America being crowned."

She was such an annoying bitch. Even now, as she did back then, she always thought she was better than everyone else and that her shit didn't smell. Then, I had an idea. It was something I had wanted to do since she destroyed her celebrity status rating with her last bitter divorce and made an ass of herself by allowing her fourth husband to drag her name through the mud by bedding his 19-year-old employee. Maybe, if she had given her husband what he wanted, sex, he wouldn't be having sex with another woman.

Surprise, look out, I slapped her hard across her face and before she could even react, I slapped her even harder across her face the other way. Her head snapped back one way while her breasts bobbed the other. Two of the pirates reacted, grabbing me by the hand, but were called back by the leader. The leader understood what was happening and was content to watch the show.

"Saul, what the fuck!"

Her face was a bright red and her eyes were full of tears. All about her face, her hair was really mussed up, now. Christie tried getting up from her chair, but her ankles were duct taped to the legs of the chair and she nearly fell.

"I'm sorry, Christie, but I need you to look like you've been crying after being manhandled," I said laughing to myself inside.

"You could have fucking warned me, Saul." Her lip quivered. "I know how to cry on command; you just needed to give me that direction," she said, as if she was a role actress ready to audition for a part.

"Yes, well, I'm sorry, but it was better you didn't see it coming. With your cheeks a beat red and your hair hanging across your face, this looks so much more realistic than me asking you to cry," he said looking at her through the camera lens.

"Yeah, well, you look like you're enjoying this a bit too much," she said with tears streaming down her cheeks while staring down at the bulge that suddenly appeared in my pants. "And to think that I paid you a million dollars to be dragged out here in the middle of the ocean, stripped naked, tied to a chair, and slapped."

If only she knew that I would have gladly paid her a million dollars to drag her out in the middle of the ocean, strip her naked, and tie her to a chair to slap her. It took all the control that I had not to stick my cock in her mouth and make her blow me.

"And action!"

I held up cue cards for her to read.

"Help! I'm Christie Brinkley and I'm being held hostage by a ruthless band of Somali pirates." Saul panned the camera over to the pirates.

"We hate America and we hate Americans," said the pirate leader with a heavy accent while holding his AK47 over his head and reacting to Saul's camera, as if he was on cue.

Then, I zoomed back on Christie's face and panned back to get the rest of her naked body in the shot. Whoever it was who did her breast implants did a marvelous job. She had a great set of knockers.

"They want five million dollars. Please help me," she said with tears running down her cheeks while feebly struggling against her ties.

I panned back over to the Somali pirates making sure to get them and their automatic weapons in the video. I followed their movement, just as one of the pirates pulled out his cock and walked over to Christie. I couldn't believe it. This wasn't part of the script. I didn't know if he should stop him or continue videoing the sexual assault. I decided on the later rather than the former line of action. Had it been anyone other than Christie Brinkley, I would have stopped the sexual assault, but what the Hell. She's had more cocks in her mouth than she could remember.

When the pirate touched Christie's lips with his cock, she recoiled and violently turned her head away. In one quick move, he grabbed her by her hair and pulled hard with one hand while pulling and twisting her nipple with the other. When she screamed, he filled her mouth with his cock, put a hand behind her head, and forced her to blow him. This was better than I had imagined. I couldn't wait to sell this video on the Internet. To satisfy her feigned indignation, I'll have to pay Christie a bonus for this shot, no doubt.

As soon the pirate fired a load of cum in her mouth and across her face, I turned off the camera. It wasn't planned that Christie was going to be forced to blow one of the actors/pirates, it just happened. The feed, as dramatic as the video was live and was made even more dramatic by my turning off the camera and turning it back on after a few minutes, as if the pirates had control of the camera. Just as I knew the world would react to seeing Christie Brinkley tied naked to a chair and forced to suck the cock of a Somali pirate, I knew that by turning the camera off and on again, as a way to censor the video, it would keep everyone watching glued to their seats.

I could just imagine hearing the major networks leading with this story.

"What you are about to see is graphically explicit and is not suitable for children to watch."

Just be giving a blowjob, something that Christie Brinkley has given thousands of, no doubt, during all those parties she attended in the Hamptons while at the height of her modeling career, she'd be a big star.

"You're a fucking asshole, Saul," said Christie spitting out the remains of the man's cum while I helped to free her from the chair.

"Who's next," I asked ignoring her and looking out at my cast of the rich and famous?

"I can't believe you watched and did nothing while that piece of shit sexually assaulted me. How dare you allow that piece of shit to violate me like that?"

"I was busy videotaping Christie," I said with a serious face while doing my best to refrain from smiling. "You'll thank me later when you're counting your millions in Aspen."

"Fuck you, Saul," said Christie. The contrast was surreal to see someone so physically beautiful be so verbally vulgar.

"Who's next," I asked again ignoring Christie again and looking out at my cast of rich and famous celebrities again?

"I'll go, Saul," said Shannon Tweed. She was already naked. "Only, you're going to have to hit me a lot harder than you hit that bitch to get me to cry." She gave me a wink and Christie an angry look. "And if you hit me hard enough, you'll make me your woman," she said with a sexy smile and laugh.

Damn, I'd love to see these two in a cat fight. Shannon would mop the floor with Christie. Still, it would be exciting to watch.

Now this was a sexy and sensual woman. Never in my wild life had I had sex as hot as I had when I spent a weekend with Shannon. I remembered her now. She was right; I couldn't slap her ass or pull and twist her nipples hard enough. I couldn't bang her head against the headboard hard enough while slamming my cock in her pussy. She was wild with passion. A real dynamo, she loved being fucked hard and the harder the better. Then, she loved rolling me over and fucking me while sucking my tongue. If anyone could tame Gene Simmons of Kiss, the man with the magic tongue who had seduced more woman than Wilt the stilt Chamberlain, it was her.

Once I secured Shannon to the chair, I slapped her so hard across her face that I hurt my hand.

"Is that all you have, Wimp?"

"Wimp? I'll show you Wimp, you Bitch," I said while suppressing a laugh.

Slap her, I wanted to fuck her. She was still so very hot. I backslapped her so hard on the other cheek that I thought I popped her breast implants when they bumped together like pin balls in a machine.

"Hey, I want to suck a cock, too, while being filmed," said Shannon taking my physical assault in stride.

She didn't wince, she didn't even cry. She was a tough broad. No one would know I had even hit her, had she not had my hand imprint on her face.

For men who didn't understand English, they understood what she wanted. Immediately, two Somali pirates pulled out their cocks and she took turns taking them in her mouth.

"You didn't have to ask these actors twice to get the direction you needed to have," I said with a laugh.

The two men took turns while Shannon's mouth while fondling her big breasts while I filmed all the action.

"My husband will get off over this," she said after they both shot their loads in her mouth.

With cum stuck to her hair and dripping down her eyes, nose, and chin and the two Somali pirates standing on either side of her with their pricks still stiff and leaking cum, she played her role as victim.

"And action!"

"Help! Please help me! I'm Shannon Tweed, married to Gene Simmons of the rock group Kiss. The Very Best of Kiss is just out."

"Cut! Shannon, this isn't a commercial for your husband's music. You've been kidnapped and sexually assaulted on the high seas. Two Somali pirates forced you to blow them. You're inconsolable with hurt."

"Okay, Saul. I get it. I'm sorry. Please continue."

"And action!"

"I'm okay, Honey," said Shannon to her husband while looking straight into the camera lens while crying crocodile tears. "They forced me to have oral sex with them and it was horrible, but I'm okay. Please send help. Someone save us."

Quickly I zoomed out and panned the camera over to each of the pirates to show the men and their spent cocks. Then, I transmitted the videotaped live feed back to America.

After Shannon read her script, I searched the crowd of sixteen to pick the next one to video. First we saw the flash off in the distance and then we heard the sound. It was surreal. We thought it was thunder and lightning.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Three cannon blasts that shook the boat flew across the port bow. Everyone looked out the window. There on the horizon a few miles away was a navy warship.

"Fuck! It's the fucking U. S. Navy! If I wanted them to get here this fast, it would take them days instead of minutes."

I could hear the rotors of two helicopters flying low overhead.

"Put down your weapons," ordered the navy over a loudspeaker. "We have you surrounded." Then they said the same thing in Somali, I imagined, with me not understanding a word of the Somali language.

"Quick! Everyone strip out of your clothes," I ordered ready to give my cast of celebrities the motivation they all needed to play their parts. "Hurry! We don't have much time. I need you all to look afraid. You're petrified. You're going to die. These men are killers and they'd rape you and kill you rather than to allow the United States Navy to save you."

The women immediately all got naked. Some were crying. Others were consoling those crying. It was the greatest show on earth and if this was a movie, if this was a movie, it would be an Oscar for everyone.

"Slap me, Saul," said Racquel Welch. "I want to suck a cock, too."

"Slap me, too," said Ann Margret. "Only not as hard as you slapped Shannon or Christie," said Ann.

"Yes, slap us, Saul," said Lynda Carter, Meg Ryan, and Heather Locklear. "We want to be sexually assaulted, too," they said nearly in unison while laughing, as if this was a Hollywood celebrity game played at some exclusive drunken party.

I slapped them all hard across the face before slapping their butts even harder.

"And action!"

I panned the camera over the sixteen naked celebrities making sure that I videotaped all the good parts.

"Please help us," they all said in unison. "Someone save us! Hurry!"

Then, I panned the camera back over to where the Somali pirates gathered, gave them a wink, and motioned them to the celebrities with a sideway nod of my head. A universal motion of dialogue, no doubt, that transcends any language barrier, the pirates wasted no time in grabbing, groping, and feeling the naked bodies of the celebrities. I panned the camera making sure that I got great shots of their tits, asses, and pussies while being touched and felt by the pirates.

One grabbed Dolly Parton by her tits and forced her down to suck his cock while another did the same to Michelle Pfeiffer. Two pirates grabbed Pam Grier and Cheryl Tiggs, leaned them over, and plunged their cocks in their pussies and humped them hard. It was wild action and I filmed it all, as best as he could. I only wished I had two more cameras to get all the action that was happening now, all at once.

Julliane Moore, Donna Mills, Sela Ward, and Andie MacDowell were all on their knees taking turns sucking off two pirates. It was sexual bedlam, an orgy gone violently wrong. Everyone was screaming and crying. The only ones appearing to have a good time were the pirates and Shannon Tweed.

I knew that many of my celebrities were having the time of their lives, but they acted as if they were not. Better than Survivor, better than the Great American Race, and better than the Ozzy Osbourne reality TV show, this filmed assault was a better show than any reality television show, including American Idol.

There was so much going on that I didn't know where to film. Never had I seen as much silicone in one place and at one time. Raquel Welch and Ann Margret, the two senior ladies of the group had these massive bushes. How they fit all that fur in a bathing suit bottom without showing, I never knew.

Katie Couric, Christie Brinkley, Shannon Tweed, Kim Basinger, Heather Locklear, Mimi Rogers, Meg Ryan, and Michelle Pfeiffer were cleanly shaven. The rest, Pam Grier, Dolly Parton, Lynda Carter, Cheryl Tiggs, Julliane Moore, Donna Mills, Sela Ward, and Andie MacDowell were neatly trimmed. I couldn't help but keep a mental count.

I was getting an erection, something I hadn't had without having to take Viagra in fifteen years. After seeing 18 pussies and asses and 36 tits, I was in sexual Heaven. I couldn't wait to market this video. It would make millions.

"If you have one of the pretend pirates put a gun to my head, Saulski," said Katie Couric, "I'll suck your cock. I haven't had my protein shake today and I could stir you up before swallowing," she said moving her hand in the motion of giving me a hand job.

I looked over at her naked body. She still looked good and her offer to suck my cock was, indeed, very tempting. I remembered her tits with her big, hard nipples and they still looked the same. They looked so good that I wondered if she had work done, but I couldn't tell. Suddenly, I wanted to fuck her, but more than that. She had become so powerful, that I wanted to dominate her, control her, and humiliate her. I wanted to bend her over, pull her by her hair, and fuck her up her ass. Just as that thought entered my mind, it passed with the sights and sounds of all the action that was happening at the same time.

"You don't have to hold a gun to my head for me to suck you off, Saulski," said Mimi Rogers, Tom Cruise's ex-wife. "I'd fall to my knees and take you in my mouth now to show you how grateful I am for you helping me to get my celebrity back."

Damn, for an old broad, Mimi still had an incredible body and her tits looked naturally and not created by some plastic surgeon. The leader of the pirates stopped his men and allowed all the women to gather around me to watch the show that was about to happen.

"We'd all like to show our appreciation of what you've done for us, Saul," said Dolly Parton falling to her knees, unzipping my fly, pulling me out, and quickly taking me in her mouth.

Lynda Carter, Cheryl Tiggs, and Meg Ryan were on their knees, too, surrounding me and when Dolly Parton released my erect cock from her mouth, the three women took turns blowing me. Kim Basinger, Pam Grier, and Heather Locklear took up where Lynda Carter, Cheryl Tiggs, and Meg Ryan left off. Never had I been as sexually excited. Never had I had seven women taking their turn blowing me. Never had I felt fourteen tits in one sex session.

Now, finally, it was Katie's turn and she went at my cock as if it was her last meal. I was right about her. She could suck chrome from a bumper in the way that she was deep throating me while feeling my balls, sucking me, and maintaining the suction pressure with her lips and the swirling action of her tongue that made me want to cum nearly instantly.

Appropriately and as if on cue, the Navy set off another round of cannons just as I exploded my warm gooey load in Katie's mouth. The cannon frightened her and she pulled me out of her mouth just as I shot a second load across her face. With cum dripping from her eyelashes, nose, mouth, and chin, I really gave Katie Couric a much deserved cum bath and with me still holding the video cam, the camera caught all the action.

My unplanned blowjob by Katie Couric was being telecast all over the world. Only, from my vantage point, Katie Couric could have been blowing one of the pirates for all the camera knew. No one could see that she had just blown her agent, Saul Lipski.