This is a "WINTER HOLIDAYS 2019" submission. Please be kind enough to favor the story if you enjoyed it and give it a fair vote. Thank you.
All sex described or alluded to, is between persons 20 years old or older. If graphic descriptions of sexual encounters are not your thing, please leave the party now.
CELEBRITY SEX SLAVE ( As told to Erectus123)
"You can call me Mary
You can call me Billy
or any other name that's silly"
I wrote that when I was 11 years old in my kid's diary. Maybe that was the first time I felt uncomfortable in my crinoline gown. As the weeks and months brought me closer to puberty I was surprised to find hair growing on my back and between my legs. I thought I was on my way to being a woman but I felt clumsy and boyish. My brother, noticing my hairy back, started calling me "Monkey." And if that wasn't enough to fuel my depression, while other girls were all of a sudden were growing breasts and becoming interested in boys, I was still flat chested and had no interest in the opposite sex. My teenage triumphs were as a Little League Girl's Baseball Pitcher and I was on the All-State Champion's Girl's BaseballTeam in High School.
Fast forward to my 20th birthday, had anything changed? Well, I was casually into Yoga, my tits had finally turned into small torpedoes, and my body hair had disappeared for the most part, except between my legs and underarms. I dated rarely, with the exception of Gustav Romero, a ex-college pal. No male was very interested in me. Quite frankly I wasn't very interested in them either. Yep, somehow in the most horrid way, Gustav managed to steal my virginity. I was quite drunk and I have never been sure if it was him or his best friend, or maybe both. I woke up in the morning with a giant hangover in a motel bed filled with red virgin's blood and other stuff. I don't want to talk about it. That was the end of that. I had to Uber home alone.
We can discuss those details another time. Just to give you an idea, my only other college sex experence was later that same year with an older professor, Dr. Annabel Jennings's. She taught Psycology 101 and was suspected on campus of being a lesbian. She must have been 50 years old, but with the exception of some facial dermatitis and a dark mole on her cheek, she was quite attractive. She looked like a one time playmate with big boobs, a large curvy ass and very kissable lips. I'd seen various members of the staff flirting with her, so there was no question she was attractive to the men. The only hint I had to her sexual preference were a few comments scrawled on the girl's bathroom wall with an accompanying drawing of what turned out to be "Freddy."
When she asked me to assist her is redoing her filing system and transferring old Microsoft computer files to her new Mac, I thought that would be interesting. The process took quite a number of hours. I worked on it over the Christmas Holiday. She offered to let me stay at her place if we ran late. Over the next few days I was able to read a number of short stories she'd published in online sex journals. Some stories were so sexy my panties got wet while reading them. With the exception of that, she remained very distant and professional. I guess she was just biding her time.
Then after the third night, she became very touchy feely. She opened an expensive bottle of Dom and it went right to my head. That was when she suggested that I sleep in her room that night. I knew something was going to happen. An hour later we were naked in her large bed and she was snorkel diving between my legs.
I had thought lesbial sex was all tongue and fingers but after she greased me up with spit and "Ramrod lube" she introduced a large flesh colored thick doubleheaded dildo into our play session. I wasn't one to complain and I let her have her way. I was sore for a week afterwards and could be seen walking to class like a penguin. But I had my first real orgasm with a woman. Even with the unexpected pain it was worth it. Although I should give credit to "Freddy", her indomitable dildo. I thought we would end up as lovers but a week later she was on to seducing Harriet Foster, who was our class president and looked like a cheerleader.
As if my encounter with "Freddy" wasn't enough, a month later I was taken advantage of by a Taxi driver I'd met at the sports bar off campus. He insisted he would accompany me home after I'd had too much to drink. I sat up front with him. I don't remember much of the encounter, except that his fingers were quite large and he was hung like "Freddy." I must have passed out at some point and when I came too he had my red panties on his head like a hat and was singing some songs in a language I could not understand. As you can see, sex with men wasn't a thing of beauty for me. I felt used and abused by every man or men who'd laid hands on me and laid me as well. Frankly I was sore both physically and mentally. The only good sex I'd had up to that point was with Ms. Jennings and she'd abandoned me. Maybe the lesbian way was the right way, my way?
My parents picked my 21st birthday to announce they were getting divorced. It was a week before Christmas, not my idea of a Christmas gift. Notwithstanding, they had decorated the house together in the traditional manner. You would have thought everything was fine. The Mom announced that she had decided to enter a religious order in Norway, of all places. Dad obviously had already hooked up with Shanea, a 25 year old airline stewardess from Ghana, a stunningly beautiful black girl whom I felt attracted to as well. Once Mom left, Shanea moved in. now she was visibly pregnant and five months later she gave birth.
Of course I was too reserved to do anything except babysit for Samuel and Hagar, the two twins born of their affair that began in an airplane toilet somewhere over the international date line. Once Bruhatta, Shanea's mother arrived, a few months later, my baby sitting days were over. My Dad told me it was time to finish up college and find a husband, advice I had no intention of following. I had given up my room for the nursery and was now sleeping on the living room couch. This arrangement seemed to displease Dad's new Mother-in-law. She would wake me up at six o'clock in broken English, tell me she had to clean the room and then she'd roll out a prayer rug, point it at Mecca, and chant religious prayers in a loud voice. I guess it was tough on her as well.
Having finished my second year of college I decided to take a break. I got a job working for a legal firm. It was interesting work with plenty of overtime. They valued my organization skills and high speed typing. I was writing and rewriting legal pleadings and got quite good at it. After the first month, which was the probationary period, they offered me a salary boost and I was able to move out of my Dad''s place.
Now I was able to afford a small apartment near the westside firm. I felt very accomplished. I avoided men, although I got plenty of invitations to play and some unwanted ass pinches from married lawyers at the firm. That was the same year that Linda Baumbecker came to the morning show on Channel 9 in Los Angeles. I just couldn't take my eyes off her.
I was completing my first year with "Bagel and Danovitch" that November. Now that It was the Christmas season, the office was sparsely decorated with Christmas and Hanukkah items, I think that's what it's called. I'd purchased numerous Christmas ornaments and had decorated my own living room. I was sitting there like a lonely Santa when Baumbecker came on the television. She was dressed in a skin tight red outfit. I guess it was some sort of "Santa's Elf costume" but she sure was showing plenty of cleavage. I knew it was crazy, but she'd became a magnet for my suppressed libido. Was it love at first sight? Don't be ridiculous, maybe? Was it an obsession? I couldn't even explain it to myself, or anyone else.
I got a healthy first year bonus that month and went out and bought a 8k flatscreen TV so I could see Baumbecker in more detail. I would stand right next to the big screen with a magnifying glass, ready to spot if there was a tiny pimple growing on her forehead, probably caused by too much makeup. I was taping the morning show, replaying it at bedtime and turning on my vibrator to get a good night's sleep. Masturbation wasn't anything new for me, but now I was mechanized. My pussy had become a big fan.
Now, please don't call me a stalker, but I scoured every TV show and supermarket scandal sheet to find out all I could about Linda. Believe me there wasn't much out there. She didn't seem to date, wasn't married, had no kids. Finally I found something to work with. One morning she appeared with a group of homeless dogs available for adoption. One puppy got me jealous as it kept licking her hand. She mentioned in passing, in her news segment, that she had a small dog. She said she took the dog on Sunday mornings, to the Silver Lake Dog Park.
I started to frequent the park on Sunday mornings. It was a large piece of sloping grassless land overlooking the old reservoir. The unleashed dogs would run free, creating a dust cloud as they ran around and played nicely with one and other. I was surprised how much fun they all seemed to be having and no dog was biting another. I had borrowed a neighbor's dog with the idea I could use Poochie as a device, to meet and greet the Baumbecker.
So there I was, dressed as sharp as a thumb tack in a black leather jacket and silk scarf, with tight slacks that my ass didn't quite fill out. I'm not Rhiana, I wish my ass was. I was walking Poochy, my neighbor's white cotton ball of a dog. I kept Poochy on her lead, while I stood near the wire fenced entrance on the lookout for Baumbecker.
There was a commotion off to my left, two big dogs barking at each other. I turned momentarily and that was the last thing I remembered, just before Baumbecker collided with me. It seems her dog was off leash, as is the practice in a run-free dog park. Her dog was evidently running towards Poochy, and she was chasing her down the slope when she crashed into me. I was out cold.
Moments later I awoke, cradled in Baumbecker's arms.
"Are you Ok, please tell me you are?"
I was out of it, "Am I dead? Are you an angel?"
"No, you are alive. Please forgive me. I collided with you chasing after my dog. Are you ok?"
I tried to raise my arm but something wasn't working.
"My arm, is it broken?"
"I don't think so but you have one hell of a good bruise."
That was when I realized she had taken off my jacket.
"Can you help me up?"
"Sure."
