Hollywood is a city of secrets; behind its romantic façade they lie in the shadows awaiting the moment to spring out and wreck the lives of those who hid them. Which means that actresses with unconventional personal lives have to be very, very discreet – especially if they have young children and a reputation for wholesomeness to protect.
It wasn't for that reason the Dollhouse had been born, but it might as well have been. Only a couple of people ever knew what the assignment was, and who with, and one of them had their memory wiped on completion. It was expensive, services of that quality, didn't come cheap, but as Reese Witherspoon nervously twitched at the curtains in the anonymous house she rented, she concluded it was worth it.
She looked at her watch, a few more minutes and her Doll, would be here. Taking a deep breath, she looked round to make sure everything was ready; the wine on ice, the leather crops, the handcuffs, the variety of sex toys, the ice-cream and fresh strawberry's were all laid out. Reese had been planning this for months, ever since a friend had given the name of a contact in the mythical Dollhouse. Though, to be fair, her Dollhouse contact had done most of the planning, only speaking to Reese when the actress needed to make a decision and choose which Doll she wanted. The contact had rented a house, one with a covered driveway so the neighbours couldn't see who came in or out, ordered the food, bought the implements. All Reese had to do was turn up.
Outside she could hear a van drive up; there was the slam of its back door. Reese hurriedly pulled out the bottle of wine and poured two glasses as she heard the vehicle reverse. There was the sound of footsteps on gravel. Then a pause and the doorbell rang.
Jumping as if hit by an electric shock, the actress took one final quick look in the mirror. Her cunt, freshly shaved, was on wanton display; framed by a white suspender belt holding up a pair of stockings of the same colour. Her only other clothing was a pair of black high heels. She quickly ran her hand through the hair, before stepping forward to open the front door.
If she was light, the beauty who stood in the doorway was dark. Her long brown was tied in a pony-tail, but one so loose it spilled over her naked shoulders. She was dressed in a leather leotard studded with metal which tapered down to cover her belly-button before sliding into a pair of black, studded leather, panties. Her own stockings were barely visible above a pair of thigh length boots. The pale face of the newcomer studied Reese with barely concealed contempt.
Gesturing the doll in Reese introduced herself, "I'm Reese Witherspoon. Pleased to meet you."
The dominatrix looked her up and down, her mouth fixed in a sneer of disdain, "I'm Echo. But you'll call me mistress."
Reese flushed in pleasure; it was just what she'd ordered. Oh, everyone said she was a success, but deep down Reese knew it was all a lie, she needed to be punished and controlled like the bad girl she was. Echo seemed to think the reddening of the blonde's cheeks were due to embarrassment as she snorted, "You are weak. It will be no challenge to discipline you."
"Please come this way," Reese walked into the main room, almost bowing at Echo as she strode in after her. As Echo looked round the room Reese picked up the glasses of wine and passed on to her. Even before the other glass touched Reese's lips, the doll drained hers one gulp,. Her dark irises fixed on the wine-glass, in Reese's hand and her voice sounded as cold as an iceberg, "Were you given permission to drink?"
Putting down the wine, Reese shook her head, "No," she said and looked at the carpet. Echo reached for a whip, and cracked it on the floor in front of the actress.
"These are the rules," Echo said, her tone suggested they were not up for debate, "One, you do whatever I say. You're going to get spanked anyway, but if you answer back, if you're slow or if you use your own initiative you're going to get whipped even more. Two, this is all about my pleasure not yours; I don't give a fuck if you orgasm or not. If you do cum it'll be an accident – though you'll want to thank me. Three, safety words...."
She paused and took a step closer to Reese, her leather clad hand reached out and roughly grabbed the blonde's face, pulling it round so that they were staring directly into each other's eyes. When she continued her voice was so gentle that Reese had to strain to hear it, "safety words... they're aren't any. You are going to put yourself directly in my hands and hope I don't harm you. It's all about trust."
Echo let go off Reese's chin and gave a thin smile. Before the blonde could react Echo's hand came up again and her palm smacked loudly against Reese's cheek, leaving a red imprint, "Do you agree?" Echo's voice had the same icy hauteur as before.
"Yes," Reese nodded, careful to avoid eye contact.
"Yes, what?" came the sharp reply.
"Yes, mistress," said Reese in her most accommodating tone.
"Good. Now I'll let you quench your thirst in a moment, but first peel down my panties...." Reese bent forward. There was a snort from Echo, "... on your knees bitch."
Reese was impressed by the attention to detail the Doll's owners had gone. She had asked that she be shaved except for a small sliver of hair atop the pussy, and that was how Echo had been prepared. Reese remained in situ staring at the naked cunt, waiting for the next order. For, what seemed like an age, Echo was content to let her remain there as she drank the wine that Reese hadn't been allowed to touch.
"Put it under my cunt, slut," Echo passed the glass down. Reese did as ordered. For a few seconds nothing happened. Reese waited patiently, for first a trickle and then a gush of liquid until the yellow piss filled the glass. Echo shook herself and few more drops dripped in.
"Stand and face me," said Echo.
Doing as she was told Reese gingerly stood up, careful not to drip any of the liquid onto Faith's boots.
"Drink," Echo ordered.
Looking down at the piss, Reese paused, knowing even as she did so she had displeased her mistress.
