Fame For The Taking
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Part 1: The Hotel
Stewardess Nicole Bridge switched off the light at the makeup table, pushed the stool back, and smoothed down her navy blue skirt as she rose. She walked across her hotel room, pausing to tuck the makeup bag into her hand luggage, and picked her jacket up off of the clothes stand that stood near the large wardrobe. Her flight was due in an hour, and a very nice flight it was going to be; she and nine others were to steward a privately chartered flight for the internationally famous girl band No Restraint. Aside from themselves, and the six members of the band, plus their manager from Caprica Records International, the plane would be empty.
She turned as she heard a knock at the door. Probably the maid, come to clean up, she thought. She walked to the door, and opened it, revealing an attractive young woman in the pastel pink uniform of the hotels maids. She raised an eyebrow as she realised that the young woman looked very similar; it could almost be a family resemblance. Both were slim, well proportioned, with red hair and blue eyes. She glanced at the maid’s name tag. It simply read “Violet”.
“Come in,” she smiled. “I’ve already tidied up. I was about to leave to check out.”
The maid smiled, and walked into the room, wheeling a small cleaning trolley behind her. She looked around the room, and chuckled. “Wow... I wish I had more stewardesses stay here. You’ve made my job a lot easier!” Nicole nodded, the same smile on her lips as she began to put on her uniform jacket. And then she glanced down. Suddenly she noticed the maids shoes. They were dark navy heels, almost identical to her own, and nothing like the footwear that the staff usually wore. She looked back up, about to mention them, and froze.
Violet was pointing a gun at her. Not a big gun, it had been easily concealed in her apron. But it was a gun, nonetheless. “Not a word...” muttered the maid. Nicole took an involuntary step backward, but nodded quickly in response. She hadn’t a clue what was happening, but certainly wasn’t about to risk her life arguing with an armed woman. Violet crossed back to the door, and locked it, before turning back to Nicole. “Remove your uniform please, and make it quick.”
Nicole opened her mouth to protest for a moment, but another glance at the gun was enough to ensure her silence. She removed her jacket, laying it on the bed, and quickly unbuttoned her waistcoat. Her white blouse followed, along with her uniform tie, and her pillbox hat. Finally, she slipped off her navy blue skirt and slip, leaving her standing in front of the maid clad in only her shoes, suntan pantyhose, and matching bra and panties.
Violet didn’t move whilst Nicole undressed, merely stood watching her, the gun held low, and aimed at her stomach. Finally she nodded, and offered a cynical smile. “Very nice you look too... Now take off your shoes and bra.” Nicole was surprised at this, but not too surprised to comply. She was trying to stay calm, trying not to tremble, and was trying not to let the tears of fright that were lurking in the wings make an appearance, as she stepped out of her shoes, and unclasped her bra. The bra joined the rest of her clothes on the bed, and she crossed her arms to give herself some semblance of dignity. Violet’s smile deepened as she watched this; The woman was quite a hottie. She reached into her cleaning trolley, and produced a backpack, from which she produced some lengths of rope, and a roll of dark grey tape. “Turn around, and put your hands behind your back, nice and slow...”
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Ten minutes later, and Nicole was now a very helpless young woman. Her wrists were tightly bound behind her, and more ropes encircled her body above and below her breasts and arms, cinched tight, and causing her body to be thrust forward slightly. She was also bound just above the knees, and at the ankles. A cloth from the trolley filled her mouth to capacity, held in by three strips of the tape. With her ankles tied so closely together, she had a job keeping her balance, and she could only watch wide-eyed, as she watched what was taking place.
“Violet” swiftly stripped out of her uniform, until she was dressed only in her own lingerie and pantyhose. Then she just as swiftly dressed herself in Nicole’s recently vacated uniform. Once she was almost completely dressed, she slipped her shoes back on, and Nicole suddenly realised why “Violet” had been wearing shoes that were such a close match to her own... a precaution, in case they wore different size shoes. The obvious imposter walked over to her, reached up, and carefully smoothed the tape over Nicole’s mouth, and then let the hand trail downward, running a fingernail over the helpless stewardess’s breasts. “Pity I can’t stay and play, honey. I bet you’re a lot of fun! But I have a plane to catch...” Nicole could only utter a muffled whimper as a protest. This prompted a soft laugh, and then “Violet” walked around her in a close circle, running a hand over her nylon-clad rear, before administering a light smack that caused Nicole to start. And then she was back in front of her, walking back to the trolley, and taking a small bottle from the backpack.
“I have to go now. Thank you so much for donating your uniform! Now I just have to keep you out of the way for a while...” Nicole stared at the bottle as “Violet” upended the bottle into a cloth, and then she started to panic, mmmphing into her gag, and shaking her head, trying to inch away. “Violet” walked swiftly over to her, caught her around the waist, and pulled her in closely as she clamped the cloth over her nose and mouth. A few muted squeals, and useless struggles, and Nicole slumped into her captors arms, deeply unconscious.
“Violet” dragged Nicole over to the wardrobe, opened the door, and laid her down on the floor. She walked over to the trolley, and produced another length of rope. She maneuvered the unconscious stewardess into the wardrobe, laying her on the floor on her back, and then looped the rope between her legs, tying it tightly in a knot over the rope that bound Nicole’s ankles. She then hoisted Nicole until only her upper back and shoulders remained on the wardrobe floor, and tied the other end of the rope around the clothes rail, leaving the sleeping and utterly helpless woman partially suspended, before closing the wardrobe door. She finally donned the uniform tie, checked her makeup in the mirror, and picked up Nicole’s travel bag before leaving the room, and hanging a “Do not disturb” sign on the door handle.
In nine other rooms in the hotel, almost exactly the same scene had been played out. Ten young women had been robbed of their uniforms, bound and gagged, and then chloroformed before being stashed out of harm’s way. Now, ten fake stewardesses made their way demurely down to the lobby, handed in their keys, and checked out of the hotel. The bellboy watched them with a sense of mild lust as they strutted out to their waiting transport to the airport.
Under his feet, in the basement, ten maids were gradually coming round, finding themselves securely bound with tape and stripped of their uniforms, and packed together in a slowly writhing and mewling mass in several large laundry hampers...
" Fame for the Taking" by Nepenthe
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esercito sconfitto
- Posts: 7165
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Re: " Fame for the Taking" by Nepenthe ( 2010 )
Fame For The Taking: Part 2
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The shouts and screams of the mass of fans and paparazzi faded as the door swung closed, leaving only the muted sounds of the flat-screen TV mounted up on the wall. The six young women allowed themselves to relax, and flopped into various armchairs and a long couch. The door swung open again briefly, and another woman walked into the VIP lounge, closing the door firmly behind her.
Madeline Strong, the manager appointed to No Restraint by the record company leaned against the door for a moment, as if fearing that the crowd on the other side of it might try to break in, and grinned at her six charges. “Now then, that wasn’t too bad! Let’s hope we have another crowd like that when we arrive in New York, hmmm?” The response she received was a chorus of groans, and six sets of pouting lips. She adjusted her red jacket, smoothed her hair back, and fixed her best PR smile in place.
No Restraint had only been on the circuit for a few months, and their rise had been meteoric. A mixture of catchy songs, hot vids, great live choreography, and careful management, had seen the six young women catapulted right to the top of the girl group listings. The world and its wife wanted a piece of them, and Madeline was there to ensure that it got that piece... in manageable doses.
The six girls sat in the lounge wore their trademark outfits, part of the advertising strategy that had brought them so far; matching black mini-dresses, worn with a different colour belt, matching gloves, pantyhose and boots for each girl. Each also wore a little domino style eye-mask in her chosen colour, pretending that there was some mystique as to their real identities. In fact, they were all very ordinary, if attractive and reasonably talented young women, who had got lucky.
Simone, the redhead, who wore a dazzling electric blue as her colour of choice, wrung her hands, and sighed. “I’m just glad that we have a private flight! I just signed so many autographs that I think my hands are falling off!” Cassie, with her tousled mane of almost white platinum blonde hair, whose colour of choice was a bright, cheerful yellow, stretched her legs out in front of her, and wriggled her toes inside her boots. “It’s nice to be able to sit down for a while too! I think I’m going to sleep through the whole flight!” The other girls all murmured in agreement.
Madeline nodded, flashing that fixed smile around the lounge. “Well, we will be boarding the plane in a few minutes, so don’t get too comfortable! Besides, you’ll get plenty of rest on the flight. Just think of it, a whole airliner to yourselves!” She noted to herself that this brought a big smile to the girls’ faces once more. They were loving the red-carpet treatment they were getting.
The girls relaxed for a while longer, chattering among themselves. They were excited that they were going to be performing at a big award ceremony that was going to be broadcast live via satellite, and that they would be mixing with the biggest names that the music industry had to offer. Petra, the olive-skinned brunette, whose colour was a hot, racy pink, was declaring to the others that she fully intended to flirt her way through the entire list of eligible males at the award party afterward, when the PA system gave a soft chime, and announced that their flight was ready for boarding. The six girls slowly got to their feet, smoothing down their tight black dresses, and readied themselves for the next barrage of the public as they walked to the boarding gate. Once back through the lounge doors, they fell into superstar mode once more, big smiles, waving, more autograph signing. Vanessa, the youngest of the group, with her curly mop of light brown hair, and her bright green colour, even leaned in over the barrier to let a fan take a picture with her. Finally, they made it through the boarding gate, shepherded along by Madeline, and made their way onto the chartered airliner. A smiling stewardess greeted each of them as they boarded the plane. Her name tag simply read “Violet”.
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The hotel manager checked his watch, and frowned. He had been patrolling the corridors of the hotel for a good hour now, and he hadn’t seen any of the maids that should have been on duty. Probably slacking off, he thought to himself. Well, those girls were going to get a piece of his mind when he caught up with them, and no mistake. He turned at the sound of hurried footsteps on the plush carpet, and saw one of the junior managers making toward him at speed. He paused, clasping his hands behind his back, and rose up on the balls of his feet for a moment. “Mr. Chambers, it is not the done thing for a member of management to be seen rushing around the hotel...” The junior manager pulled up sharply in front of him, looking rather worried. “I’m sorry sir, but there’s something that I really think you ought to see...”
Down in the laundry room, the manager, and the junior manager beside him, peered into a laundry hamper. Three terrified, partially stripped, bound and gagged young women stared up at them, pleading through gagged mouths to be released from their predicament. The manager boggled at the helpless maids for a moment, and then turned with an ashen face to his subordinate. “How could this possibly happen? This is an unforgiveable breach of hotel security! I want the hotel searched, every empty room is to be checked! I want whoever is parading around my hotel, pretending to be a member of staff apprehended immediately!” Chambers nodded, turned, and began to hurry away. “Mr Chambers...?”
The younger man paused, and looked back. “Sir?”
“Walk. Don’t run.”
The manager bit his lower lip. The police should be summoned immediately, but with the minimum of fuss, and with as much discretion as possible. He had better handle it himself. He hastened back to his office, absent-mindedly letting the laundry hamper lid fall closed again, causing another chorus of desperate muffled squealing. He also forgot, in his own haste, to give any instructions for freeing the contents of the three laundry hampers. But he was sure to remember.
He was a very thorough man.
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The shouts and screams of the mass of fans and paparazzi faded as the door swung closed, leaving only the muted sounds of the flat-screen TV mounted up on the wall. The six young women allowed themselves to relax, and flopped into various armchairs and a long couch. The door swung open again briefly, and another woman walked into the VIP lounge, closing the door firmly behind her.
Madeline Strong, the manager appointed to No Restraint by the record company leaned against the door for a moment, as if fearing that the crowd on the other side of it might try to break in, and grinned at her six charges. “Now then, that wasn’t too bad! Let’s hope we have another crowd like that when we arrive in New York, hmmm?” The response she received was a chorus of groans, and six sets of pouting lips. She adjusted her red jacket, smoothed her hair back, and fixed her best PR smile in place.
No Restraint had only been on the circuit for a few months, and their rise had been meteoric. A mixture of catchy songs, hot vids, great live choreography, and careful management, had seen the six young women catapulted right to the top of the girl group listings. The world and its wife wanted a piece of them, and Madeline was there to ensure that it got that piece... in manageable doses.
The six girls sat in the lounge wore their trademark outfits, part of the advertising strategy that had brought them so far; matching black mini-dresses, worn with a different colour belt, matching gloves, pantyhose and boots for each girl. Each also wore a little domino style eye-mask in her chosen colour, pretending that there was some mystique as to their real identities. In fact, they were all very ordinary, if attractive and reasonably talented young women, who had got lucky.
Simone, the redhead, who wore a dazzling electric blue as her colour of choice, wrung her hands, and sighed. “I’m just glad that we have a private flight! I just signed so many autographs that I think my hands are falling off!” Cassie, with her tousled mane of almost white platinum blonde hair, whose colour of choice was a bright, cheerful yellow, stretched her legs out in front of her, and wriggled her toes inside her boots. “It’s nice to be able to sit down for a while too! I think I’m going to sleep through the whole flight!” The other girls all murmured in agreement.
Madeline nodded, flashing that fixed smile around the lounge. “Well, we will be boarding the plane in a few minutes, so don’t get too comfortable! Besides, you’ll get plenty of rest on the flight. Just think of it, a whole airliner to yourselves!” She noted to herself that this brought a big smile to the girls’ faces once more. They were loving the red-carpet treatment they were getting.
The girls relaxed for a while longer, chattering among themselves. They were excited that they were going to be performing at a big award ceremony that was going to be broadcast live via satellite, and that they would be mixing with the biggest names that the music industry had to offer. Petra, the olive-skinned brunette, whose colour was a hot, racy pink, was declaring to the others that she fully intended to flirt her way through the entire list of eligible males at the award party afterward, when the PA system gave a soft chime, and announced that their flight was ready for boarding. The six girls slowly got to their feet, smoothing down their tight black dresses, and readied themselves for the next barrage of the public as they walked to the boarding gate. Once back through the lounge doors, they fell into superstar mode once more, big smiles, waving, more autograph signing. Vanessa, the youngest of the group, with her curly mop of light brown hair, and her bright green colour, even leaned in over the barrier to let a fan take a picture with her. Finally, they made it through the boarding gate, shepherded along by Madeline, and made their way onto the chartered airliner. A smiling stewardess greeted each of them as they boarded the plane. Her name tag simply read “Violet”.
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The hotel manager checked his watch, and frowned. He had been patrolling the corridors of the hotel for a good hour now, and he hadn’t seen any of the maids that should have been on duty. Probably slacking off, he thought to himself. Well, those girls were going to get a piece of his mind when he caught up with them, and no mistake. He turned at the sound of hurried footsteps on the plush carpet, and saw one of the junior managers making toward him at speed. He paused, clasping his hands behind his back, and rose up on the balls of his feet for a moment. “Mr. Chambers, it is not the done thing for a member of management to be seen rushing around the hotel...” The junior manager pulled up sharply in front of him, looking rather worried. “I’m sorry sir, but there’s something that I really think you ought to see...”
Down in the laundry room, the manager, and the junior manager beside him, peered into a laundry hamper. Three terrified, partially stripped, bound and gagged young women stared up at them, pleading through gagged mouths to be released from their predicament. The manager boggled at the helpless maids for a moment, and then turned with an ashen face to his subordinate. “How could this possibly happen? This is an unforgiveable breach of hotel security! I want the hotel searched, every empty room is to be checked! I want whoever is parading around my hotel, pretending to be a member of staff apprehended immediately!” Chambers nodded, turned, and began to hurry away. “Mr Chambers...?”
The younger man paused, and looked back. “Sir?”
“Walk. Don’t run.”
The manager bit his lower lip. The police should be summoned immediately, but with the minimum of fuss, and with as much discretion as possible. He had better handle it himself. He hastened back to his office, absent-mindedly letting the laundry hamper lid fall closed again, causing another chorus of desperate muffled squealing. He also forgot, in his own haste, to give any instructions for freeing the contents of the three laundry hampers. But he was sure to remember.
He was a very thorough man.