tawny

get our money and turn her loose the better. That's what I think."

"We'll see. Your luscious ass, Sylvia, just begs for a little

whipping, in my opinion. And maybe more severe punishment. It kind of depends on how fast your studio comes up with the ransom. " George sounded a bit grumpy.

'Are these two guys going to argue? God, I hope so!' Tawny thought. 'What would Sylvia do?' She had an idea, and summoned up every iota of her diva, Gloria Swanson, goddess persona:

"Please. Both of you. You're squabbling, you're pitiful!. If you want to do this kidnapping right, I have a few suggestions,"

George stood back. "Sylvia, we own you, do you understand? We don't need your suggestions, thank you very much."

Tawny summoned up her best imperious Sylvia imitation one more time: "No one owns me! You--you clowns! Blunder through this on your own! Lots of luck, you losers!" Tied to a chair, spreadlegged, nearly nude, this was a hard attitude to sell, but somehow Tawny managed--partly.

"Uh--George, maybe we should hear her out." W said.

George might have glared at him; masked, who knew? "We're cutting you a lot of slack, you high and mighty bitch. but--just before we fuck your brains out, let's hear what you have to say."

Tawny tried to stare him down; with the infuriating mask half hiding his eyes, that was impossible. " Sol Castle (nee Schloss) is the main man at my studio, Astro. He'll answer your ransom demands, no one else will. The sonofabitch will probably try to get some free publicity out of your shabby little fling. So, send him your ransom note, plus a picture of me, tied up__one that he'll leak to the media--and put in a --you know, current newspaper headline, or something, to show that this is for real. "

"Sylvia, I'm impressed." George said. "you're smarter than a big titted bimbo should be. We'll do exactly that. W, I'm going out to get a paper, and a pizza, maybe a few beers. And a lot more rope. While I'm gone, why don't you and Sylvia get--better acquainted?" He left, tipping W an exaggerated wink.

There was an embarassed pause. W attemped a swagger and stood over the bound actress. He reached for her breasts, clumsily at first, then with increasingly sensual deep kneading as Tawny felt her pierced nipples erect again. "goddamit" she thought. "I really don't want to get hot for this creep! What now?"

She squirmed as salaciously as her tight bonds allowed, lowered her head, then looked up at her tormentor, lashes fluttering. Forget Gloria Swanson; she was doing Lillian Gish. 'Pour it on,' she told herself:

what's to lose?'

"Stop it! Stop it! Ooh, your hands are so strong!" She wriggled

again. ""It's not going to be much fun for either of us if you--you know--fuck me with me all tied up."She flashed him a shy smile.

W stood back and seemed to consider his options. Fiinally he said: "Now you're talking, Sylvia. lets get you out of that chair."

He knelt, untied her ankles then loosened the ropes bindiing her to the chair. Tawny got to her feet, shakily, She continued her

flirtatious smile , inwardly exulting: 'Maybe I can sweet talk this dork into freeing me!' Aloud, she said. "Oh thank you! I could just give you a hug! But my wrists..." Her hands were still tightly bound. She wriggled again, frowning prettily. "But how can I hug you or--you know? These ropes are so tight!"

He held her by both shoulders, the smirk on his Bush mask echoed by the note of sly triumph in his voice: "You bet your ass they're tight, my little slut, and they're going to get tighter!'

He reached for one of the ropes and tied her upper arms together behind her back, tugging until her elbows almost touched. This was more painful than the chair had been. 'Oh shit!" she thought. "So much for my seductive skills.'

He bent her over the flimsy card table. "Gotta hurry before Ba--I mean George gets back. " He fumbled with his belt buckle, and unzipped his fly; with one big hand he held her down, flattening her breasts against the table. "Here it comes, Sylvia--doggy style! Maybe we'll do foreplay later."

She tried to clamp her thighs together; too late. With his other big hand he spread her asscheeks and thrust deep into her.

Tawny screamed and then gasped. He was so big! As he lunged, she was dismayed to find herself lubricating and beginning to answer his driving cock. with her own pelvic rhythms. "You slut!" she berated herself. "You're so fucking easy! He's raping you!" "Aah, shut up. Que sera, sera. OOh wow! That's so--ummm!" she answered herself. and surrendered, her deep muscles quivering, her bottom thrusting in time with his insistent deep lunges. She was gone. Escape was the last thing on Tawny's mind at this moment.

W (ah, let's call him Phil; that's his name when he's not masked} was blissful. This was the best sex he'd ever had! Her pussy was so warm, so tight and yet so yielding. And this was Sylvia Slate! He was fucking Sylvia Slate! He couldn't retrain a hoarse nearly animal cry of exaltation as he came. And then he felt the rough grip on his shoulder. George was back. And he was furious.

"Phil, you horny sombitch! Couldn't wait, huh? After we had decided on the spanking and torture and all! Now all I get is sloppy seconds! Right now! We've got to move fast to get the digital pictures onto this laptop for the evening news break! That was part of the deal, remember? OK, now move your hairy ass. My turn!"

Bent over the table. painfully bound. Tawny moaned as one big organ slid out of her, only to be replaced by another, smaller, lunging cock. Not again! Still wet from Phil, she noted that this guy---clearly the brains of the two--was not a very good fuck. Oh well.

Everyone came.(Tawny about five times). Al (that was George)finished sodomizing her and said:

"Now let's really tie good ole Sylvia up. On the floor. hogtied. Be sure the tattoo and the pussy ring shows. "

Tossed to the floor like a particularly delectable piece of meat, Tawny was spread, photographed, rolled over, photod again and again. Every intimate detail of her lush body was revealed.'

"These goddam masks! I'm sweatingl ike Karl Rove! "We've got the pix, let's make sure our princess don't see our faces." Al produced a black tight fittinng sleep mask and fastened it over Tawny's frantically rolling eyes. It was very snug; Tawny screamed out as she was effectively blinded. Fucking and bondage were one thing, but this--!

The kidnappers pulled off their damp masks. "Tht George Bush is an ugly, fucker, ain't he?" mused Phil. Al was already at the laptop, relaying the pictures and the ransom demands: One million dollars. And as he sent the message, he secretly cellphoned his employer Sol Castle: "Deal complete pickup and delivery as scheduled."

THE STING--SIX

Sol Castle!! Of course. The whole kidnapping had ben a publicity stunt to bolster Astro's sagging balance sheet. But Sylvia had refused to play along. So Barry and his naive, lookalike client and the whole fake kidnapping had been rigged. Sylia was kept vague as to the details: she was to remain secluded in her castle during the actual snatch, and just follow orders. "Only a million bucks?" she pouted as Sol explained the plot, "I'm certainly worth more than that!"

"Once, maybe. Now here's the plan. Rock Hammer--you remember him--and your dykey secretary are in on this, too."

That had been almost a month ago. And now. still blindfolded, nude, handcuffed with some sort of heavy chain, Tawny, or Sylvia squirmed on the cold leather seat of the ATV as it sped into the Hollywood Hills--to the base of the famous sign, in fact.

Three hours earlier, Sol Castle clicked off his private cellphone from Al's cail and smiled. Now to start the whole phony ball of wax in motion! First call was to his favorite TV source, Georgia Spruance--she'd be sure to leak the lurid details to as many of her sources a possible, taking credit for the scoop, of course. Within minutes, the 24hour channels were breathlessly hinting that a celebrity kidnapping had occurred: Rumor has it that Sylvia Slate, voluptuous star, has been--Studio head desolate! Police on the case! Details at nine!.

Then Sol called his old cronies, the police chief and the newly elected ambitious Hispanic mayor. Both owed him favors, and this one seemed so small; just go along with a "staged event" as Sol put it, and told them the details: timing, phony ransom. dramatic rescue, the whole enchilada. Details in place, he poured himself several ounces of Grey Goose vodka from his office freezer. Just one detail to be sure of. Sylvia herself. He had judged her to be too vain and too dumb to go along after his intial offer some weeks earlier, All she had been told was the date (today's) and told to make herself scarce at the guest house on her estate for about--OH, six hours, Sylvia was not that dumb, She knew that the kidnap plot was probably afoot. That poor girll! Ah well Show business! It's a tough life out here!

So as Tawny was being kidnapped and abused. Sylvia. Patricia Pritchard and her bodyguard, Rock Hammer, were enjoying martinis on the patio of the secluded cottage on the estate. Boris had just arrived with another icy pitcher of drinks. Sylvia in the midst of one of her favorite reminiscences ...."And dear Cary Grant. They said he was gay, of course. but he was really hung..." , idly motioned for Boris to pour her another drink. He, Hammer, and even Pritchard were in on the charade.

This was no ordinary martini Sylvia now swallowed. Boris had laced it with a dose of rohypnol, the infamou 'date rape' drug. It worked fast. "And that Gregory Peck! Or Pecker! she continued, now slurring. "SShit I'm getting so sleepy! Think I'll lie down."

In minutes, she was sprawled on the chaise lounge, black negligee gaping. "Now What?" said the British secretary nervously. "How long will she be--Oh I'm not sure that I like this one bit!'

Boris grinned as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. "Oh, I think you'll like it a lot. And so will Sylvia, Too bad she won't remember, though. Right, Hammer?"

Pritchard gasped as the two men undressed. "Surely your'e not goiing to--I mean, I consented to go along with this--this little joke--but --Oh dear! Oh my! "

Baris had stripped now, and was caressing Slyvia's breasts. She smiled .. not quite stuporus yet. Though a thourough going lesbian, Pat had had had some heterosexual exposure. but this!~ And Boris, already erect as he slid into his employer's pouting pussy, was so big!

"I must say. this is--I'll have no part in this--this rape! I just promised to--" Pritchard protested as Hammer. wearing an oldfashioned undershirt and droopy boxer shorts. 50's style;( He was well endowed as well, she couldn't help but notice), leered at her, grabbing one wrist of her tweed jacket.

"In for a penny, in for a pound, as you Brits say. You get to watch. Better yet, you get to join us! A foursome! How about it, Boris.?" Pritchard quailed as he tore off her coat, fumbled at her tailored skirt.

Boris, now plowing a moaning, halfconscious Sylvia, turned his head and laughed; "Damn straight, Rock! If you can still get it up!"

Pat struggled. but the actor was far too strong. She gasped and then wept as he stripped off her blouse, her lacy bra and panties, exposiing a surprosingly luxuriant brunette bush with pink labia peeping out coyly. He forced her over a low end table, and spit on his fingers to lubricate her nearly virginal pussy. Her breasts flattened

against the table, she shuddered and continued to weep as she experienced his loathesome painful pernetration. Deep! And deeper! and now---

Boris stood, smiling, as he pulled out of Sylvia and prepred to roll her over for a sustained bout of sodomy. "Rockl you old devil! Tell you what--In ten minutes or so, let's switch. I've had my eyes on that prim little quiff for some time now, and I know youll want to do Sylvia before she passes out completely. Youll lke that , won't you, Sylvia?" He patted her round ass as she smiled dreamily and stirred as he fingered her anus.

Well, let's not get carried away. Suffice it to say as Tawny was being fucked in the kidnappers trailer, Boris and Hammer enjoyed a good 40 minuted of inventive sex. Poor Patricia was rogered. fore and aft. by both men. They finally left her trembiing and almost hysterical; How could she--she!--have allowed herself to climax so often with these men--these brutes? She was dazed as they led her back to the mansion, to Sylvia's bedroom. She scarcely protested when they tied her up with some of the silk bed canopy cords, gagged her with a convenent scarf and left her hog tied on the big bed.

Hammer had a final inspiration. "If all goes well. the cops will be here in an hour! Poor little secretary. here, was bound and ravished trying to fight off the kidnappers! That's your story? right?" She nodded miserably. "And one more thiing! Youu brits fancy a little corporal pumishment, do you not? Boris, roll her over." It took only a few dozen hefty slaps to turn Pritchard's pale, peaches and cream English buttocks into a flaming canvas of pink and red welts. They left her, sobbing. Now to prepare their own alibis.

SEVEN

The Mayor and police chief and Sol faced a hastily convened press briefing. Sol spoke inn a husky voice as cameras clicked:

"The rumors are true. I'm afraid. One of tinseltown's most incandescent stars haas been brutally kidnapped. But there is good news! With their usual resoursefulness, city officials are expecting a speedy arrest. I'm afraid I can't go into details. But, i beg you. let us handle it. TV, press, please stay away for a few hours!"

Sugar to flies. Of course all of the press, mobile vans, even a chopper or two followed the three powerful men in their limousine, flanked by dozens of squad cars. into the Hollywood Hills.

Only thirty minutes earlier, Phil and All had led their blindfolded nude captive to the steel bars of the first letter 'L'. She sobbed as they recuffed her, hands behind her back to a heavy waist chain, which ran between her legs to a padlock securing her to the sign.

Both kidnappers fondled her shivering curves. "Hurry up!" Al said, reaching for a large briefcase hidden in the nearby brush. He opened it: crisp packets of hundred dollar bills winked back at him.

"It's all here! a cool mil! Let's get out of here! Parting is such sweet sorrow. Sylvia. And you may be the world's greatest piece of

ass!--It's been real!" Al gave her goosepimpled bottom one last pat and then the men were gone. But not for long.. A GPS locator, accurate to nearly 3 meters, had been stashed along with the cash. The unlucky pawns in Sol's game had gotten only as far as Anaheim before they heard the first of many police sirens.

Now, chained, blindfolded, totally helpless--and freezing, LA nights can be chilly-- Tawny broke down completely. She was on her knees, whimpering, chained to the huge sign when police searchlights headed up the rough gravel road outlined her naked body . Soon police were everywhere. The black limo braked ,spraying gravel. Sol sprung out, waving off the uniformed men as he rushed to Tawny's side. Oddly enough, he had a heavy set of bolt cutters in his hand; in a few seconds he cut the chain abd cradled the trembling woman in his arms. She was too miserable to resist or even understand what was happening. She was so cold...

Sol and the mayor bundled her into the limo. Sol bellowing: "Weve got her back! She needs immediate medical attention. Please, no photographs right now!". He made sure that the papparazzi who had crowded the site got a few good shots of Tawny's voluptuous ass--especially that haunch with the tattoo. Quickly,the limo sped away; the chief had signalled his officers to follow--but at an discreet distance.

The caravan sped to Sylvia's mansion. Hammer and Boris were at the door. apparently startled and distraugt.

"We just saw the TV, Mr Castle! We've been looking everywhere! She 's really gone!"

"Not to fear, men! Our precious jewel has been restored. Better get her upstairs. Get a doctor. get a locksmith! And hurry!"

Tawny was warmer now. and coherent. She struggled as the three men carried into the pink and white suite, still blindfolded and chained. They would have put her in the middle of the big bed, but it was already occupied--by Pat Pritchard, tied and gagged, spanked bottom still throbbing.

"Holy shit! I mean, Good Lord!" Soi cried out. "What has happened to?...Ah, the doctor is here: amd the handcuff guy, too. Everyone else out, please! No more cameras!"

Tawmy was unchained and tore off the blindfold. She was fully awake now. "What in hell is going on here? Who are you people? Hammer. is that you? Where is Sylv......"

"Clearly delirious. State of shock." said the silver haired doctor who now give her an injection. He was a renowned Dr. Feelgood type who dispensed B12 shots , uppers and downers or any other drugs to Sol's stable of actors. Tawny said: "Where's Sylvia? I'e been kidnapped and raped. don'y you underst--sthand...." The powereful drug was already working. The doctor nodded sadly;

"Clearly delusonal , as I said. Needs absolute rest. So does this poor girl." He reached for Pritchard, still tied, sputtering behind her gag and glaring at the crowd (especially Hammer) and gave her another quickacting shot in her bruised ass cheek. Now both naked women were groggy as Sol and the doctor ushered everyone else save Hammer and Boris out of the ornate chamber.

Sol, gracious and assured. was doing yet one more TV interview.. Meanwhile, Rock and Boris were shuttling the near unconscious women : Tawny and Pat were secluded in the guest house while Sylvia was deposited into her own bed, smiling dreamily as the two men handled her voluptuous body; it would be at least four hours until the date rape drug wore off and she awoke, slightly disoriented, but aware of her throbbing genital area.

She called out groggily: "Pritchard! Where am I? Where are you":

two unfamiliar nurses hovered over her. Sol was at her side and patted her hand as he pulled the sheet over her sprawled nude form.

"Sylvia, my darling. You've had such an ordeal! How much do you rememer! The reporters aare so insistent! I'm afrais you'll need to speal tp them soon.! You were kidnapped of course, photographed and assaulted. Surely you remember that part. We paid the ransom' and rescueyou; Chained to the Hollywood sign, remember?"

Sylvia rubbed her eyes, puzzled. then touched herself under the sheet. "It's all so--fuzzy! But yes , I remember being fucked ,lots of times, and I think Pritchard, too--where is she?"

Sol Castle said: "Ms. Pritchard was called back to London this morning, I'm afraid. Family emergency. Also it seems she had overstayed her visa. But she wasn't kidnapped, you were! Just as you feared! Two men in masks, remember?"

I'm--I'm not sure. I know i was fucked!! But the rest--why can't I remember?"

"Because you've had a severe trauma, a memory lapse. Listen,

let me tell you exactly what awful things you endured. I want you to be clear on the details before your interview. I know you need your rest, but perhaps its best to tell your story now and get it out of your system. There will be lots of publicity, regretfully, but that may not be all bad, as a career move for you: "Sexy star Kidnapped, Violated!" Good for ratings! Hollywood, you know. "

Sylvia nodded gratefully. Sol was so smart! "Jost fill me in on the details, then, give an hour to fix myself up--I do miss Pritchrd, --and I'll be ready for the media. "

EIGHT

Tawny awoke a few hours later. She remembered the kidnapping, of course, the tight bondage and rape, and those horrid chains, that chilly blindfolded ordeal on the hillside.. And then rescue, several injections, and then? Her memory was blank. She stirred. She was nude, in bed, in an unfamiliar room. She made it to the bathroom. showered, brushed her hair, gradually became more alert. Where was she? The bedroom suite door seemed to be locked; she had found aside from the towels, only one thin silk dressng gown to wear. The sun was bright overhead, it must be noon. And there was a television set.