The Starlet Contest

Finally rising to her feet, Mariah realizes that the base of her insertion is obvious through against her slacks—rather more so than she had intended. And it seems that none of her workmates can ignore her stilted movements around the office. She tries to stay at her desk as much as possible, but sitting on the thing makes her feel like she has a stump up her butt. Somewhat more subdued than she has been of late, she invites Lacey and Garth in to help with the confirmation shots. Surprisingly, as they enter her cubicle, a couple of others, in the know, tag along—just to see what's up. Fortunately, Mariah thinks, some of this early video evidence can be recorded without her baring her ass.

Later on, at the beginning of lunch break, Mariah approaches the boss's office. "You okay?" Elspeth asks, a bit concerned, as she catches sight of Mariah standing in her doorway of her office.

"Yeah, I guess," Mariah answers. Then she straightens up, and mustering her usual confidence, adds, much more brightly, "But look at this." She enters—Lacey and Garth trailing behind her—and swivels. Pulling her slacks tight over her round bottom, she makes her plugged arse completely obvious. Momentarily surprised, Elspeth smiles, titillated and intrigued.

Elspeth gladly allows them to use her office—under her supervision, of course—to video the lunch-time confirmation scene. While Mariah suggests direction, both Garth and Lacey are filming on their phones, so, not quite sure of which camera to look at, Mariah climbs onto Elspeth's desk and settles herself onto all fours. Following a moment's indecision, Lacey steps up and, passing her phone to the boss, says, "Allow me." Giving Mariah a sharp smack on the ass, she begins to slowly and deliberately roll Mariah's slacks down over her bum-cheeks, until there is nothing concealing the flanged end of the butt-plug but the butt-floss of her thong.

"Put your head down," Elspeth says—it comes across more command than suggestion. "You need to be in child's pose!" So, as Mariah stretches out on the desk, lifting her ass, Lacey spreads her cheeks wide, exposing the quivering base of the intrusion to Garth's close-ups.

Holding the camera with one hand, Garth reaches in with the other and starts pulling on the rubber end. Mariah grunts as he pulls harder and harder, tugging at her entire buttocks. The stretching of her rosebud, as the shoulder of the plug becomes visible, brings tears to Mariah's eyes. For an instant she feels like she's being ripped in two, but as Garth releases the tension and the body of the device slips back into her rectum, she almost welcomes the simple fullness that floods back into her fundament. And the peculiar sensation keeps on flowing, spreading through to her pussy. Somehow, she can't determine whether it's annoying or arousing. Returning to work, Mariah spends much of her afternoon trying to decide if she is enjoying herself or just tolerating the discomfort.

The contest instructions, furthermore, had stated that the device be removed at the end of the day by someone else. At quitting time, Elspeth summons the group into her office, once again. Lacey is giddy with anticipation, eagerly to record the proceedings. Garth is bemused, staring intently at Mariah's backside, while Elspeth calmly takes on directing the action. She decides that the obscene reveal, will be best accomplished as a sort of repeat of the lunchtime scene. Boosting Mariah up onto her desktop, she grabs her by the hips, pushing and prodding her into position. "I'll do the honours," she announces, "as I am the senior person here." Pulling down Mariah's slacks, once more, Elspeth kisses the bare cheeks as she takes ahold of the firmly implanted bullet.

"OH—MY—GOD!!" she exclaims, as she tentatively grabs the exposed base. "That is really stuffed in there tight! I don't know how you did that!" Stepping back, she adds, "'S too much for me." Her gaze shifts to Garth.

"What the hell," he mutters, grabbing the flanged base, "It went in; it's pretty much got to come out!" Twisting and turning and yanking, to the accompaniment of Mariah's gasps and squeals, everyone is amazed at just how stuffed she is. Indeed, they all start to worry about Mariah's poor sphincter ripping. It takes a concerning amount of effort. Still, Garth is finally able to pop the rubber shoulders back through her stretched rosebud, and remove the offending beast.

The tense atmosphere kind of drained the room of the light titillation all had first felt. In fact, the whole challenge has turned out to be much more complicated and onerous than Mariah had anticipated.

Getting home that evening, with her pelvic region still throbbing, Mariah finds herself seriously questioning. "How long is this going to keep going? I mean, how many more challenges can they come up with? And how long can I keep it up?"

Still and all, with the new directive comes a new aspect. It seems that the administration has suddenly decided to change the venue, moving the arena outdoors and targeting the general public. Mariah welcomes this, feeling she is pretty much done with the office and her colleagues. She also feels this change in setting provides a more level playing surface.

With the arrival of the next challenge, Mariah senses another slight change. Certainly, the last couple tasks have required a bit more planning—a bit more risk-taking—a bit more balls, as it were. Briefly, the twelfth challenge is simple enough: 'Flash a stranger in a park—during the busy after-work rush—full frontal nudity.'

On closer consideration, though, recording the event might be a lot more complicated than the actual deed. Wearing nothing but a raincoat and jingle-bell-nipple clamps, Mariah feels a little embarrassingly cliché—like the stereotypical flasher of days gone by. She targets a middle-aged couple out for a decompression walk among the inner-city park trails. As she approaches her intended victims, she throws open her coat with a flourish, and a shout: "Hey! Look at this!" Giving her chest a shake, she jingles softly. Using two cameras, one on a selfie-stick in her hand, and the other on a headband, she manages, with a bit of creative twisting of the cameras, to capture the very essence of the exhibitionism in a melding of the two continuous POV videos.

Later that evening she edits the two views into one cohesive scene, although, she feels, the two-minute maximum length is becoming rather restrictive. Notwithstanding, the final edition clearly shows the unexpected reveal, and the surprise on the faces of the victims changing to curiosity and amusement, their eyes obviously panning down to her bare pussy as Mariah, passes by them, turning as she does to give them a view of her full-frontal for as long as possible. Mariah is pleased with the submission—especially how clearly her shaved cunt glistens in the light, and her booby-bells ring so musically.

Challenge thirteen arrives in Mariah's inbox several days later. At the outset it sounds pretty straight forward. 'Have a stranger suck on your nipples—outside—in public—in the daylight.' But reading it makes Mariah feel strangely flat. She wonders why there is suddenly no sparkle associated with the setting of a new task. Is this whole thing just becoming too mundane? Too boring? She feels almost dissociated, as she leaves the office at lunch and makes her way into the park. Looking about, in a bit of a fog, for a likely mark. It isn't until she spies a hunky young fellow meandering up the path by himself that things brighten a little.

"Hey there," she chirps, laying a hand on his arm as they come abreast. Surprised, he stops and pulls a bud from his ear.

"Can I help you?"

"I hope so," Mariah purrs. Stepping up close, she guides him off the trail, as she asks, "Can I show you something?" He nods, rather bemused, as Mariah explains her situation, and the contest requirements.

"So, let me see if I have this straight," her helper says unable to keep the smile from his lips. "You're going to bare your chest for me, and I'm going to munch your sweater puppies—sucking and chewing on the nipples, alternately mauling and pinching them, while we both video the proceedings."

"Yup," Mariah replies, beginning to feel more alive again. "Here's a camera you can use." She's smiling broadly as she hands it to him. Then, shaking her head, tousling her hair, she steps back slightly and begins to peel open her top, pushing her tits proudly forward. "Come on," she encourages, beaming at his hesitation, "show the girls some attention!"

With that, he leans in to kiss each nipple, and is suddenly engulfed in the discharge of erotic energy. Mariah has to hold tight as he pushes himself into her boobs, licking and sucking and grabbing like a starving wild-man! Pinching and pulling, slurping and gobbling, her conquistador's treatment puts her off balance—both physically and emotionally. A sudden intense arousal consumes her like a fire-storm, and she is blindsided by a hugely powerful orgasm.

Documented, once again, with both selfie and POV footage from her volunteer, she is amazed at the carnal intensity of the video. After a busy ad fruitful evening, Mariah is super-pleased with how erotic the evening's final edit turns out.

She is still vibrating from the echoes of the last challenge when she receives and reads the next directive. The task is simple enough: 'Expose your bare beaver to strangers in a public place.'

"This is something I can work with," she says to herself, admiring her own burgeoning self-confidence.

These instructions also include an increase in allowable time for video clip—now, no more than three minutes. Mariah sees this change as a definite positive. It'll make the editing that much easier. Hoping to retain her residual excitement and, perhaps, generate a degree more, she dives in without much planning; basically, using the same tactics as last time, even down to the same raincoat. Using a Velcro strap, she has fastened a camera at her knee pointing back, selfie-style, at her crotch—focusing on her pussy. Also, she has a Go-Pro which she wears on a head harness, partially disguised with a woolen toque.

She has chosen a bench on the far side of the park. Sitting slouched, with her head down, looking surreptitiously through her lashes, with her hands in her coat pockets, Mariah let her knees fall open, from time to time, momentarily exposing her shaved snatch—offering quick glances—as if she were practicing, or warming up.

She is able to collect a lot of raw footage in the short time she spends there, as even past this off-the-path bench, there is still a rather steady stream of passing traffic. Most people are on their own, and most are plugged into some sort of electronic or cellular device. It occurs to Mariah that this is so twenty-first century. Notwithstanding, she watches, and evaluates each passer-by, until she chooses someone.

Now and again, she spots a likely subject. Then, when she catches her target's attention, she slowly pulls her hands from her pockets and begins to play with herself—twiddling and stroking and poking. If the target stops to get a better look, she slowly raises her head. If she can capture his gaze with hers, make real eye-contact. then she dramatically pulls her hands away and lets her coat fall closed, staring at her observer until he turns to move away.

This, of course, works well several times before the final observer of the game begins to wrestle his turgid dick from his fly as he steadily approaches her. Suddenly flustered, Mariah rises quickly, almost panicking, she scurries off along the path, rapidly retreating to the sound of taunting laughter.

Unnerved by the incident, the perceived threat, Mariah, steps back to take a second look at what she's doing. "Although," she tells herself, "nothing actually happened!" Settling in to pare down the raw material, she realizes she's in way too deep to give up now. "The prize is almost in sight—I think. So, I need to keep my eye on the ball." Pushing the incident aside, she focuses on her video submission, carefully editing the clip for maximum erotic effect. And, eventually, well pleased with her offering, she submits an entry, once more, to the enigmatic contest's web-address.

Mariah considers each new challenge to be a dare—a dare which her pride will not allow her to refuse. And, as they increase in difficulty, they each continue to come with encouragement and rationale. The contest administrators claim they are trying "to identify who's got what it takes to be a star." They say they are weeding out those who lack the necessary fortitude—the moral fibre!

"Ha!" Even Mariah, blinded by ambition, has to laugh at the complete misuse of the term 'moral fibre'. More like a malapropism for immoral character! Still she goes on, not allowing herself to question the motivation for such requirements. Thinking only of the end-game—the grand prize—the million euros—she rationalizes: "I've come this far..., I've come too far to quit now."

The fifteenth challenge begins with the words, 'Make a video with a maximum length of five minutes...' "Jesus!" Mariah hisses, "Raising the submission length again? Can't they make up their friggin' minds? It makes it seem like they're kinda flying by the seat of their pants. Maybe they never expected to go this long, so they're making it up as they go." Then she continues reading, '...showing yourself masturbating to orgasm. Could be with vibrator; must look real—if you're good enough to fool us it could be faked. Must be in a place where there's a chance of getting caught.'

At this stage, for Mariah, it's a no-brainer—going with the genuine article. "I mean, duh!" she tells herself, "I've had more orgasms over the course of this contest than I can remember, AND I've never actually faked one, anyway!"

She takes a few days to formulate a plan of action, then speaks to Lacey the next day at lunch. "I'll need you help today, right at quitting time," she says, giving no details, adding presumptuously, "Be ready. I'll get you."

Immediately after work, with a bemused Lacey in tow, Mariah heads across the street to the park, again. She finds another somewhat secluded bench at the edge of another path overlooking the wooded pond. With little explanation, she gives Lacey her good digital camera, and positions her partially concealed by the bushes, but with a decent view of the bench. "You'll need to use the telephoto," she says, then turns and moves to the bench. Mariah feels a bit bad about the way she's been treating Lacey—like an eager-to-please puppy-dog. So it goes.

Slouching down on the bench, feet planted, knees out front, and spread, she stuffs her hands into the front of her slacks, probing inside her panties to begin playing with her pussy, reaching into her already moistening slit. Eyes closed, she drums a gentle tattoo in the vee of her inner thighs, letting the growing sensations begin to wash up her spine. Whimpering and gasping quietly, she barely lets up for the passing walkers.

Busy digits stroke her furrow, spreading her gathering dew, while she swirls her clitoris with her other hand. Fingertips dip into her vagina with increasing insistence, reaching for her G-stop, while her swirling becomes rougher and more demanding—rubbing and batting her engorged bud. Mariah surprises herself at the ease with which she gets aroused.

As she gets close, she pulls out a modest vibrator—a Pocket-Rocket fingertip vibrator, pretending to be oblivious to a small gathered audience, Mariah can feel herself beginning to tremble and jolt. Starting within her belly and radiating out, electricity begins to crackle along her nerves, discharging out her extremities. Her legs begin to quiver and her shoulders spasm, as the tremors spread from her toes, up her spine, until her bosom his shaking and swinging. it looks for all the world like she's having a seizure as she brings herself to climax. Amusingly, a woman in the crowd actually steps forward and asks if she's okay.

"Oh, yeah," she gasps, smiling. "More than okay!"

It takes a moment, then, for her to gather her senses. Standing up, lethargically, she nods vaguely at the small group of onlookers, acknowledging the smattering of applause. Mariah feels rather pleased with herself and her performance. She turns and, with a subtle hand gesture to Lacey to join her, begins to walk away. Luckily, she manages to vacate the area shortly before a bicycle cop swings by to investigate complaints of a disturbance.

Scanning the raw video together in the car, she tells Lacey that she did very well. Lacey beams at the compliment—you can almost see her tail wagging. Then Mariah gives her a kiss, before more or less dismissing her; leaving her alone at the curb. Mariah realizes Lacey is hungry for more attention, but she hasn't time for that right now. Mariah roars off, heading home, the moment Lacey closes the car door.

As she spends a long evening editing her submission for length—it is pretty straight forward: one camera; one angle; simple fade-in/fade-out scene cuts—Mariah wonders how many contestants are still in the running? How many have already been eliminated or dropped out? "Dozens, at least," she tells herself, "Certainly!" Sitting suddenly tall, she brags to no one in particular, "Well, I haven't—haven't quit! And neither will I!" She silently promises herself to continue conscientiously and enthusiastically meeting every challenge. "It's the only way!"

So it is that Mariah contrives next to 'Fuck in a car': thus meeting challenge number sixteen. Having put it off a bit, she was now under the gun for time restraint. So. she'd actually just picked up a guy in a bar. "Ever fucked in the back seat of your car?" she'd queried softly. Taking his wide eyes and the tentative shake of his head to mean 'No', she had purred, coyly, "Wanna try?" On the way to his car Mariah had briefly explained that she needed to record the event, and why.

And here she is. Skirt up; thong dangling from her shoe; looking up into the face of a complete stranger, and bracing herself against his thrusts. It is pretty raw, unvarnished sex. Her wide-angle camera is clipped to the back shoulder belt; her go-pro fastened to her head-band. She feels the hard cock battering her tender vagina, but it isn't long before it's over. They both mutter rather insincere thanks as he hustles her out of his car, his jism running down the insides of her thighs.

Later that evening, as she sends off the edited entry, Mariah thinks back, and is retrospectively shocked at how the outrages have continued, challenge after challenge; furthermore, she's just accepted them and met them time and again. She wonders how many contestants like her remain; indeed, how many were there to start with?

They do it again! The very next challenge has a change in the confirmation requirements. Now, instead of a maximum length, they're looking for a minimum video-clip length of five minutes. Mind you, the challenge—number seventeen...! "Geez! Have I already completed sixteen?" Mariah gives her head a shake—yeah, the challenge itself is simple enough: Fuck in a public or semi-public place.

After giving it a modicum of thought and planning, Mariah collars Marcus, the company's head salesman, first thing in the morning. She convinces him to join her for an exciting lunch. He has heard rumours about her and her exploits, and is eager to participate. So, come lunch time, Mariah leads him out of the office and across the street to the Men's public washroom in city park, briefly explaining the situation along the way. After taking a moment to look furtively about, she drags him unseen inside.

All business, to start, she bustles about, setting up her phone and her camera—on the mini-tripod she's recently acquired—on the sink and hand-dryer, respectively. Then she turns to him, amused at his totally bemused look, and reaches for fly, freeing his thickening member. He slowly begins fumbling to undo her shorts. She lends him a hand before pulling him into her, her back against tile wall next to sink. In a seemingly choreographed move, Mariah throws her arms around his neck, and as he pulls her shorts down until they're dangling from one ankle, she wraps her legs around his waist. Getting, at last, into the game, Marcus rips the gusset right out of her tiny panties exposing her pud to his bouncing prick.