starfuck: Catherine Zeta-Jones

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STARFUCK
Not to be read by anyone under 18. This story contains explicit
descriptions of non-consensual sex. If this offends you, please look
elsewhere. This is FICTION. If you are tempted to recreate the
following scenes, your psychiatrist is going to be a very happy
man...... Starfuck is designed to be a series of STAND ALONE stories (much like
the Hypno-Celeb franchise). However, each story will feature the same
protagonist - an individual with the power to control people's minds.
At some point, I might determine the limitations of this power (ie how
many people he can control at any one time), but for now all you need
know is that in order for control to be established he must have
skin-to-skin contact with his target, though only for a split second.
Now, lets just kick back and watch him put his talent to good use.....
Further starfuck stories can be located at;
www.dejanews.com/~celebfuck/ Comments and suggestions for future stories always welcome!
It's your suggestions that keep me writing..........
Starfuck: Catherine Zeta-Jones
by Mephistopheles
MC, MF, CELEB Personal message
I prowl the floor of 'Beelzebub' - the most fashionable club in London,
even if I do say so myself - looking for prey. My doormen are
instructed to admit a ratio of 6:1 in favour of the fairer sex; only the
fairest need apply. Thus, on night's like this, when I am without
celebrity companionship, I have a wide selection of amateur dishes to
sample.
I begin to home in on a chesty blond - she reminds me of a conquest
from school (one day, I'll tell you of my formative year.....), when my
ear-piece informs me that we have an unexpected celebrity guest.
Catherine Zeta-Jones. I knew she was in town - filming the thriller
'Entrapment - and congratulate myself on sending out an invitation card.
Dealing with matters at hand, I establish brief contact with the blond -
Rowan - instructing her to return the following night, before turning to
welcome Ms Zeta-Jones to my humble abode.
She looks absolutely perfect. Dressed in a stunning black strapless
satin dress, a small ornate crucifix hangs at her fantastically elegant
neck. She is quite ridiculously beautiful - immediately seizing the
attention of the whole dance floor. Moments like this make me feel like
a genius for opening 'Beelzebub'; the finest pussy delivered straight to
my door......
Introducing myself, I quickly separate her from her escort - he is
easily distracted by Brittany's method of dirty-dancing ala Sharon
Stone. Stepping into her mind, I do a quick piece of manipulation;
pushing her personality into the background, and drawing her 'Splitting
Heirs' character to the fore. Why am I doing this? Yes, 'Splitting
Heirs' was a pile of crap, but C Z-T was sensational. Playing a rich
bitch socialite, she chose Eric Idle as her last fling. The relish with
which she performed suggested that this was a role for which she was a
natural. This is the character I am resurrecting - I am to be her next
conquest......
She leads me upstairs (I have programmed the direction in her mind),
steps into the room and throws her shoes back to me. I stand in the
doorway admiring the gently sway of her ass against the fabric.
Reaching the bed, she drops the dress, clad now only in black bra and
panties. Reclining back and propped herself up on her elbows, she
spreads her legs akimbo; pushing the fabric tight against her crotch.
Suddenly, very little is hidden. I slowly move my eyes up her legs, but
linger upon the impression her lips make upon the satin. She lifts her
head to face me, arches an eyebrow, and pops the question;
"Coming in....?"
I walk over to her, standing upright before her recling form. She
gazes up at me inquiringly - that Welsh charm in full evidence. I issue
a simple command;
"Strip me."
A smile of pleasure betrays her eagerness. She immediately sets to
work, pulling my top off, before unbuttoning my trousers and easing them
slowly to the floor. As she moves, I steal the chance to observe the
gentle sway of her breasts in that tight bra. I can't wait to get my
hands on them, but I do. I want her to take the strain.
As my boxer-shorts join my trousers in an untidy heap on the floor,
Catherine finds herself level with my very erect penis. Her mouth opens
and her tongue snakes out, snatching a quick lick of my pre-cum. Her
head moves in closer, but she stops, open-mouthed mere millimetres from
my cock, and looks up at me for approval. I smile my
acquiescence........
I connect with tonsils as she deep-throats me. Her mouth runs up and
down my penis with awesome precision - providing just enough friction to
make me spasm. Her mouth is warm and moist; her tongue traces my length
as she attempts to swallow me whole. Glancing down, I find she has
maintained eye contact at all times - watching me watch her as she fucks
my cock with her mouth. Her eyes have that familiar look that Catherine
Zeta-Jones does so very well. An awareness of just how much she is
turning you on. The mixture of this natural self-conceived
'superiority' with the total helplessness of her situation (she is
unaware how completely under my control she is) brings me to climax.
Feeling me twitch, she pulls back until I am no longer actually inside
her mouth. Instead, she positions me directly in front of her gaping
mouth. Feeding time at the zoo.
I come in some quantity, but, with practised precision, she captures
every last drop. She then takes me back inside again, milking &
cleaning. She then gets to her feet and stands in front of me. We
pause for a moment - the calm before the storm......
She brings my hands up to her chest, encouraging me to grope and
squeeze her tits through the lace. As I knead her, she slips a hand
behind her back and unhooks the bra. It comes away in my hands and I
carelessly discard it. Her breasts are now free. Large and firm, they
are topped by plump pink nipples. Is it cold in here, or is she
extremely aroused? This is, of course, a rhetorical question. A good
director leaves nothing to chance......
Spinning her around, I begin to roughly grope her tits from behind, all
the time my rock hard member pressing against her panty clad ass. This
time it is I who guide - leading her left hand down beneath the elastic.
Find the hole, I ease her middle finger inside, establishing a rhythm
with which she can masturbate herself. When I release her, the pace
never slackens. She' horny.
Leaning in, I whisper into her ear;
"Ask me to fuck you."
"Fuck me...."
Her voice is barely audible. That won't do at all......
"Louder. Don't just say it, persuade me." My voice is calm,
deliberate, assured. "I want you to beg."
"Oh, fuck me! Stick me with your hot cock!" This time her voice has
more passion. It is interesting to note that she slips back into a
pronounced Welsh accent as she loses control of her body. "I want you
inside me. Get inside me. Cover me with you hot, sticky spunk!"
Who could resist such an offer.....
I swiftly tear her knickers from her body. Her hand is still there -
diligently fingering herself throughout. She stops now though. Her
concentration focuses for the exertion to come. And boy, will she
come........
The sheets are silk, smooth to the touch. As such, they provide an
interesting juxtaposition to the unrestrained brutality of my assault.
Although she is desperate to get me in her cunt, I flip her onto her
belly, spread her ass cheeks and plunge inside. Without lubrication
this is extremely painful - for the woman. She can only be thankful
that the territory is not virgin - if it were, I'd probably split her.
As it is, she's evidently taken it in the ass before. Not that it stops
her from screaming.......
After emptying my load into her bowel, I decide to give her what she's
been pleading for; lying on my back and allowing her to skewer herself
on my dick. She rides frantically, hurriedly pulling us both to another
climax. It was not difficult to find five takers. Each has paid a sizeable sum
to involve himself in this role-play - yet demand was inexhaustible.
Later, I shall run for those unlucky in their application. For what I
have planned now though, only a select number of customers would be
appropriate. Too many cooks.... Besides, I couldn't find an infinite
number of costumes. From an objective viewpoint, I can well understand
that we look ridiculous - five would be Zorros looking for a fancy-dress
party. However, given the prize awaiting us, I think such a sacrifice
is none too humiliating. I've always been a fan of role-play.
We enter the basement. When I put the light on, my guests get their
first view of their purchase. Catherine Zeta-Jones is dressed in a
corset and frilly dress, with her hands bound and tied to a meat hook
that suspends her body a foot above the floor. A ball-gag has been
inserted in her mouth, and a blindfold completes the equation.
She hears our entrance, her body language revealing her confusion and
fear. She has no recollection of our previous encounter since I have
switched characters - she now believes she is Elena; the feisty heroine
of 'Mask of Zorro'. How many of us, while watching that movie, didn't
long to show her a real sword? This is precisely the proposition I put
to my clients. Hence, this re-enactment of the film - only this time it
probably isn't suitable family entertainment.......
She is plucked from the hook, her hands fastened behind her back and
the gag is removed. She tries to speak but the butt of a sword catches
her in the stomach, winding her and forcing her to her knees. One of
our lusty half-dozen steps behind her and holds her head still, while
the remainder unsheathe our blades. We stand around her in a loose
half-circle; so close that a sudden movement on her part would risk
impaling an eye. Blindfolded, she can have little comprehension of the
degraded nature of her position, although when we begin to masturbate
our rapidly solidifying cocks, the noise must give her some inkling.
She is forced to suck each of us to climax, her head held and
positioned from behind. Although this is most certainly non-consentual,
she is unable to do us harm - my manipulation taking the form of a
threat of violence.
Having serviced the six of us, I decide to give Elena the opportunity
to fight for her freedom. The blindfold is removed and her hands
untied. She is then given a sword - all she has to do is defeat the six
of us and she is free to leave. My control has turned each of us into a
master swordsman - despite Elena's undoubted prowess with a blade, she
never has a chance......
Heavily outnumbered, it would be unfair to force her to fight six at
once. Instead, we take turns; each duelling, scoring a hit, then
stepping aside. Each hit cuts through a section of her clothing -
slowly she is being stripped. As realisation of her predicament sinks
in, Elena begins to fight with desperation. Unfortunately, tiredness
only makes her moves even more obvious. The hits come quicker and
quicker, more and more flesh is displayed. Occasionally, the blade
catches a little skin as well as tearing through the fabric - leaving
her with numerous small cuts; further humiliation.
Ultimately, I step in, easily sweeping aside her sword. Helpless, she
displays admirable courage, standing firm in the face of an uncertain
fate. I position my sword under her chin, before swiftly cutting
downwards. The last remainders of her corset is cut from her body -
leaving her completely nude.
You can guess what comes next.........
The crowd bay expectantly for the arrival of the main event. The room
is doused in darkness - a sole spotlight illuminating the stage. The
music starts - a pulsating Arabic beat - the curtain rustles, and
Catherine Zeta-Jones takes the stage. She is dressed as a dancing girl
- reminiscent of her role in 'The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles' - clad
in multicoloured gauze that did little to obscure the specifics of her
body and nothing at only to disguise her curves. Her face too was
covered by a thin veil. Needless to say, despite this the crowd had
little difficulty in determining her identity.......
Having stood frozen to allow the spectators to fully take in her form,
Catherine suddenly sprang into action. Her body undulates to the music,
slowly removing the veils that covered the rest of her.
Soon, she is pirouetting in place, allowing the audience to leer at her
fully stretched form. Precious little gauze remains on her body, while
the pile on the floor was ever expanding. Stepping to the very edge of
the stage, she arches her back, tightening her stomach muscles and
forcing her barely concealed breasts out in front; the view from the
front row was very nice indeed.
Somewhere in her mind, Catherine Zeta-Jones' true self was screaming
helplessly - unable to wrest back command of her body. I wanted to keep
this part of her conscious - I want her to recognise the true scale of
her humiliation.....
The final pieces of the gauze slip to the floor, leaving Catherine as
nature intended. Her nipples are erect - proof that this experience has
been a non-consentual thrill for the actress. Every eye in the room
admires the wanton curls of the triangle of brown hair between her legs.
Unless I am very much mistaken, it is meted with moisture.
Even now, the humiliation is still not finished. I force her to adopt
a succession of erotic poses - all designed to maximise the expose of
her tits, ass and pussy to the paying customers. On top of this, I am
tempted to allow the audience to invade the stage, but I decide that Ms
Jones has probably had enough gang-bangs for one evening. She's proven
popular enough to warrant an additional appearance - besides, I've not
tired of fucking her yet...........
--
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