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`` I 'm shopworn of all this, Michael. I want to move on. '' At the 21st floor of the skyscraper, headquarters of `` Hot Entertainment Media '', Hayley Kapoor is discussing with the company 's CEO. The 26 yr old girl, a former manikin of English and Indian origins, had become a asterisk over the last two years in the States, thanks to the succeeder of her `` everyday-life '' realness appearance. Michael William Henry Hudson was the one that had discovered her in an L.A java shop and offered her the show, making her into a Brobdingnagian star, with millions of viewers and social media followers. But now she had other aspirations.

'' I ca n't celebrate doing this Mike, i want to pursue acting. This will only nurse me back ''. He was not at all proud of to hear that. He tried to polish talk her into sticking it out, that it was best for her, after all, the show was it its peak in popularity, that she would increase her popularity eve more to consecrate acting a try later on. When her determination proved much secure, his feeling shifted to a colder manner, with dialogue about the 5-year contract she still had with the company, and her unprofessional attitude. `` I 'm sorry, i ca n't do this anymore… '' were her last words as she closed the door behind her.

'' FUCK ! '' He slammed his fist on the perfectly varnished desk, made out of the finest, jet black woods. She just had cost him many, many millions of dollars. `` That spoiled bitch ... '' he said taking a sip from his whiskey."It 's about sentence mortal teaches you some humility ... '' he mumbled, picking up a hole-and-corner cellphone, stashed in the bottom drawer of his desk.

The fashion jamboree was about to start and the red carpet would be full of renown. Hayley was ready, with the assistant of her dressers, hair-stylists and make-up creative person, as always. Her long and heterosexual, dark Brown University hair shined almost as a great deal as her golden earrings. A hot-red lipstick drew More attention to her full lips, complimenting her Amerindic complexion. And of path, the vernal young girl couldn't be there without a jaw-dropping designer dress. It was white and sleeveless with some atomic number 79 particular, with a bust that showed off her luxurious, natural E-cup breasts without giving everything away, and a tightness that traced her cute melt off waist all the way to her perky butt, showing off her breaking ball. It ended tastefully, slightly above her knees. A pair of shameful, 5-inch heels completed her stunning feeling. Hayley always wanted to look sexy, but also classy in these red carpeting upshot. She embodied a unfeigned red carpet diva.

A dark Bentley was waiting for her on a secluded, secret area behind her house. It was Handy to avoid paparazzi. The device driver opened the threshold for her and escorted her inside. As the door closed, Hayley turned to see Michael, sitting in the back next to her. `` What are you doing here Mike and why are you wearing these doctor gloves ? '' she asked, confused seeing the latex gloves on the man's hands and annoyed at his front. As soon as the finale word left her backtalk, the mingle click of all four of the car 's door locking was heard.

Before the fabulously dressed renown could react, the man quickly grabbed her neck with his left arm and tightly pressed an ether soaked rag over her face with his right hired hand. Alex Haley let out a panicked, surprised squeal, but the rag muffled about of her howler. With her arms free, she flailed pointlessly at him. When that didn't work, she tried pulling his smothering hired man away from her face, but the man 's strength was no match.

The device driver on the front end kept completely tranquillize and still, his oculus forward. sole affair heard in the empty parking lot were the kicks of Hayley 's heeled invertebrate foot, pounding against the rachis of his sit.

Hayley kept struggling in Mike 's adhesive friction, ineffectual to avoid the fumes making their way through her nostrils. She had no more forte left. Her heart started to tilt to the back of her head and second later, she fell limp in mike's arms. He pushed his channel's no.1 star topology away like a ragdoll. He took his sweet time to dispatch the latex baseball glove. Then, without saying a word, he stepped out of the car, which immediately took off, its finish vastly different than a style show.

Hayley Kapoor slowly regained her senses. She was freezing, her body covered with less fabric than she would ever intent for a televised social result. Her wearing apparel had been half-torn, exposing most of her, apart from her mid-section. On her right and left were urinals, the damaged wall behind her indicated that there also used to be a urinal where she stood now. She was inside a public restroom, a pretty filthy one at that, with a putrid feeling well soaked into the room.

Not much effort was readily available. The Lester Willis Young, brownish daughter's neck opening was collared in steel and attached via a 3-inch chain to the plumping pipe on the wall behind her cover. She couldn't see it, but the forepart of Hayley's collar had the word"urinario"engraved on it.

The pipe she was tethered on was old and rusty, which was probably why a midst, brand bar had been installed on the level, right adjacent to it, the chain passing around it as well. This would be more than sturdy.

The missy instinctively tried closing her legs, but discovered it was out of the question. Her bare knees made inter-group communication with the heavy, frigidity floor, separated uncomfortably far from each former. She could keep her kneeling position, but it certainly gave access of her genitals to anyone. No underwear was in sight.

On either incline of Haley were metal floor gang. Just like the blade floor-bar behind her, they looked out of place, betrayed from the broken tiles around them. Each was used to nurse a thick chain which passed through it, then around each girlfriend 's articulatio genus. She would have been able to rid herself from them, if her ankle were n't chained together, behind the pole.

This would be a pretty bad spot to find yourself in, but the Whitney Young diva's humiliating bondage was n't over. Two more metallic rings, the diameter of a large orangeness, had been placed over her exposed, plump boob, and locked shut. Small, 3-inch chains like the ones on the girl's collar, attached each breast-hoop to metal cuffs on the jibe wrist, securing Hayley's hands in close proximity to her bulging bosoms.

The two God-given gifts on her chest were always something she was very proud of and grateful for. But Hayley was now cursing them for adding to her thralldom. An A or a B cup would err right through this evil booby-traps. As much as tried pulling them off with one hand, her breasts could not make pass through their tight vice-like bag. Its pull only hurt her tender breast-tissue, which was already sensitive from the slight press the encasing steel-rings put on her nipple. There was no way these thing could be removed without someone unlocking them.

Finally, a steel whitehead spreader gag had been placed between her dentition, stretching her jaw wide open. Even its strap were indestructible, made of metal rather than leather. The C-shaped device wrapped around her forefront, a closed whorl dangling above the nape of the girl's neck.

The way she was forced to kneel, her head was at crotch-level of anyone standing in social movement of her ...

Her face looked nothing like how she envisioned it being photographed on the red carpet. Mascara was dripping down her cheeks from the tears. Her red lip rouge was half-gone. Saliva was staining her chin and defenseless tit as it dripped from her gaping lips.

The girl had spent a duet of hours hurting her pharynx with pitiful, unintelligible cries for help. Now, tired and defeated, the aspiring Hollywood star topology resigned in occasional groan of desperation. What the notable fille didn't know was that she was currently far from her favorite LA. This world restroom was in the center of a road in Republic of Honduras, surrounded by desert and connecting two hamlet. The route was mainly used by trackers, granger and drug smugglers.

Hayley spent two more hours by herself. In her realness appearance, she was never alone, always surrounded by her bestie-girlfriends, annoying family or possible sexual love involvement. There was always the hustle of busybodied, Los Angeles life. An audience here, a photoshoot, there, then the show, with some momentary breaks of personal living squeezed in-between. This echoing quiet was too…empty for her. Unsettling.

This muteness was disturbed with the sound of the barely-standing wooden door of the room, creaking candid. A bonny, middle-aged Honduran cleaning woman stepped in, holding an old, hole-filled back pack. The sun-tan on her skin, the furrow on her look and the callosity on her hands indicated a hard-working, scraping by type of person. cleaning ma'am, field doer, manufactory doer. These were just the legal ways to bring in a living.

As soon as she saw her, a rush of energy filled Hayley, who started moaning to indicate her obvious endangerment. `` Finally ! '' she thought. `` someone will rescue me ! ``

But, to her shocking realisation, the charwoman did nothing to exhaust her. It was apparent by the tote up absence of stupor or surprise to her face. Normally a hatful of a pretty, chained girl would illicit some response. But the woman was there for a specific reason. She had been given a job, a job by a unnamed employer, but it paid well it and she was going to do it. Morals were only saved for Sunday church.

The Honduran Lady stood in front of the girl, placing her knapsack adjacent to her on the flooring."Huuuuh ?"The untested girl let out a worried, inquiring moan, as the sometime woman grabbed two big tufts of the girl's beautiful, long, brownish hair and fashioned them into two wavelike pigtails, using some hemp rope. The girl tried to thresh her short-reaching helping hand towards the lady, but she easily swatted them out of her way.

The middle-aged dame then took out a large butt-plug from her bag and started lubing it up. Hayley's legs began trembling - she had never had anything or anyone visit the back-door. But with enough tenaciousness, pushing and twisting and pushing and twisting, the bulbous thing slipped past her sphincter and its inner curve nested there. The English-Indian girlfriend had worked quite the sweat from the experience, but the woman had one cobbler's last gadget in her bag. It was a dual vibrator, a U-shaped twist with one insertable half resting on the char 's g-spot, the other half capping her clitoral backing. Like all her new"supplement ”, it was also made out of metal. The gentlewoman smeared it with a different jell-like liquid state, before inserting it into the girlfriend 's helpless pussy. She kept the air pressure upwards, making sure all parts of the device were in contact with the captive 's cutis, inside and out. She manually kept the thing firmly up there, ignoring Hayley's rag protests. After about 30 seconds, she withdrew her hand.

The dual vibrator was sealed inside her for good now. The medical examination gum applied to it, making it now constituent of Hayley 's dead body. She would not be capable to murder it without damaging herself, never mind without the use of her hands.

The woman took out a squirt-bottle from her backpack, which was almost emptied now. She squeezed its liquid contents into the miss 's agape mouth. `` No drop curtain '', she warned in disclose English language, but the prisoner choked and gagged, spilling most of the fluid on herself and on the floor. The Honduran lady then took out a little controller with a 1 button on it. She clicked it, sending a mightily wave of electricity through the metal vibrator wedged snugly inside the chained womanhood. The blow was so hefty, Hayley's wow was stifled and delayed. It hurt so a good deal ! Like her two nigh tender stain were making momentary contact with a hot frying pan. `` No drop '', the woman said again and fed the bottle again.

This time, the leap girl was more groom, though she still had hassle swallowing with her backtalk open. A few shocks later, she had drunk some amount of what would be her day-by-day meal. Her tributary hung the remote 's key-chain to a nail, above a sign, that Hayley hadn't noticed until, then hanging from wall above her. Without as much as a wave, the foreign woman left as abruptly as she had appeared. Hayley strained her neck to look at the sign that had carved in the Word :



PARA MEJOR CALIDAD DEL SERVICIO

USE EL command REMOTO



It was about 7 in the forenoon when the first off unsuspicious visitors entered. A couple of trackers had made a relieve oneself hitch. Their confusion quickly turned into pleasant intrigue, walking in the public lavatory to fleck a incapacitated damsel ready to help them empty their bladders. They were not the knights-in-shining-armor-type. As a good deal as Hayley pleaded and begged for help through her broadcaster gag, only matter she got for her troubles were two"bladderfulls"of piss. Not lots went down the"drain ”, most of it splashing on her case or dripping down her almost au naturel body.

Hayley gave it her all, pleading her case to anyone who entered, but even the single who wanted to help the poor female child were too afraid to free her and put their own life sentence in quick danger. Republic of Honduras had one of the gamey law-breaking rates in the world. Its outskirts had become a playfield for unlawful dealings. People saw some crazy shit in these, with the drug combine running amok, it was almost numbing. Anyone that tried to hold up them often found a insanely fate, or sometimes forged. So anyone that visited this remote dump of a public convenience, immediately assumed that this miss had reaaaaaally pissed-off some of these less-than-considerate people.

They'd repair to apologetically fly and keep a life-saving omerta. Especially with the added presence of a pocket-sized, security-type television camera on the upper berth corner of the convenience, recording at all clip. No one wanted to tangle with who they assumed were ruthless gangster. As for police, they were all bought, non-existent in these places.

Throughout the upcoming days, the former theoretical account's, helpless tantalizing form earned her many, usually flaccid, cocks to rest on her tongue and let the spend a penny stream in her mouth. The predilection of rancid piss made her heave every time. But with her cervix collared on the bar and the spreader gag keeping her from closing her sass, she couldn't avoid anything they cared to put in there.

With the submerge majority of Hayley's"visitor"being male and with her terribly sluttish to the eye looks, there was a fair share of occupier who grasped the chance to relieve more than than just their bladder. The missy's jaw was unfold wide for her mouth to do any"useful piece of work ”, but that didn't mean she couldn't take a payload. And so, semen also became a part of her daily diet, with mass either jerking their cock millimeter away from her gaping rima oris, or just"unloading"on her metal-bound tits.

Book got around. From the 4 people that had stumbled upon this public restroom the first day, the number tripled the next day. By the end of the week, Hayley was being `` occupied '' oddly regularly for livelihood in the midriff of nowhere. The other urinals around her basically went unused.

It went without question. Hayley was a pitiful, filthy kettle of fish. It wasn't more than than a workweek when she was enjoying margaritas while"brunching"with her girlfriends.

At the first, the girl was pretty `` mouthy '', groaning and cursing in her new, laughably incoherent language and needlessly trying to campaign them off with her cuffed hands, now attached to her chained, erection inducing jugs.

But her charming defiance was rewarded with electric shocks to her pussy. Those quickly put a break in her pride, making the girl 's altogether body squirm from head to toe. There were no clear book of instructions besides the polarity above her and the outback hanging from a nail on the wall, but it wasn't knockout to guess."customer satisfaction"is relevant, after all.

Every time she was shocked the young starlet would vow never to cause that, again, until the next metre she'd break her own promise. As the mean solar day went by, she pleaded more with her centre, than with her words, but each time, her inviting, red lip were too much of a distraction for them to ignore.

Satisfying their tormenter'wishes seemed unsufferable to the India-English girl. Hayley would involuntarily swallow a couple of swig, but soon the small consortium of her oral cavity would fulfill and spill over with make water, dripping from her lips down her naked body. As practically as she tried, she could n't down her yellow goody, faster than it was given to her. For a urinal, she was performing very lousy. As a answer, the remote 's zaps burned her inadequate clit and the internal bulwark of her pussy.

On one occasion, she even puked from disgust on a man 's shoes. She never forgot the ten continuous seconds she was shocked. As often as she dry heaved from the unadulterated appreciation and smell - hygiene was n't at the top of her"clients"antecedency - she never puked again.

Some didn't even give her a"challenge ”, rather than aiming for her face-hole, they piss-sprayed her face, pilus, bosom, wherever they fancied. The young lady could only kneel there and acquire the"hosing ”.

At the end of each day, the woman was a piss-and-semen covered, stinking mess. But every night, around midnight, miss Kapoor would be visited by the same lady, she 'd seen the outset meter. The womanhood would patiently remove her butt-plug and position a bucket underneath the girl to take a crap in. Shamefully avoiding eye-contact, the girlfriend had no choice but to humiliatingly relieve herself into the bucket.

The middle-aged adult female would then scavenge her with a leech and a pail of oleaginous H2O. It appeared as if she was assigned with not only preserving her livelihood, but also her presentation. This was also proven by the fact that the lady applied a rich red lipstick on the woman's gaping lips, revitalizing their appeal.

Finally, she'd feed the miss the Lapplander pattern from the same squirt-bottle. It was a consolation that it tasted better than any of her previous `` meals ''. `` No drop '', the cleaning lady 's strict vocalism would echo in the empty room. The gag would never come off. It was becoming apparent that Hayley's ability to open her pharynx to entering liquidness would be heavily linked to how bad her day went.

Miss Kapoor's life had taken a dramatic swift. No longer would she be a featherbed celebrity, with everything and everyone at her disposal. She was merely an ill-starred girl at best, a human toilet at worst. People in the outskirts of Honduras had no musical theme who she was. Her reality appearance didn't period of play there, and if it did, the hoi polloi here had bigger worry than these featherbrained TV shows. If her renown was her exclusively saving grace, it was pretty useless here.

The few women that stumbled upon her didn't prove women's rightist sisters, either, instead taking whatever valuables were on her. Her expensive earrings and high-end stiletto dog she wore when abducted had vanished in the first few Clarence Shepard Day Jr.. Even her torn attire was eventually taken, the fabric too expensive to not steal.

As the first couple of hebdomad passed, the restroom 's visitors became accustomed to their newfound luxury, if not a bit wear upon. Visitors required some better optical stimulation, in order to coldcock their seed on the incapacitated little girl without delay.

This meant that Hayley had to present a more seductive front, in ordering to get each visitor off quickly, so he 'd be on his merry way, testicle-drained and relaxed. It also meant she had to `` receive '' every fall of weewee, without any spills, as the overflowing piss could stain the user 's pants or shoes. In any case, it was generally annoying.

With time, Hayley obeyed more, training her gag physiological reaction and throat muscles to swallow a ripe portion of her yellowish beverage. She was starving for some regular solid food, but that only came at night with her but"friend's"visit. Sometimes, if she was docile, the older peeress would reward her with a pet between her two rope-tied pigtails and a"goodness Chica ”. She wasn't chattier than that.

In accession, with the avail of the dreaded remote control ascendence, Hayley learned to conjure up the men that used her. She 'd fondle her chained breasts with her hired hand, raising and squeezing them together. She 'd bet up at them with slavish heart, keeping eye-contact as long as potential. She knew they liked that. She sometimes gyrate her hips back and Forth River when they fucked her welcoming throat. Anything went, as long as they left her be.

As the electric seismic disturbance on her short cunt molded her rima oris into a skillful cock-sleeve, her gag-reflex wore off more and more, and she learned to loosen up and open her throat. The flow of urine now flowed almost continuous, from the urethra through her red back talk and down her pharynx, with fiddling to no chemical reaction from the fille herself, only docile concentration at her labor. The tasting was always frightening, but she after one C of dower, it had proven quite the acquired taste perception for Hayley. It definitely wasn't a"Sauvignon Blanc"though.

It 's about 2 p.m. She knows it, not by the Rolex she once had. That 's about when the construction workers are taking their break. The morning is full with Fannie Farmer, while afternoons are muted when the local football team is n't playing. Nights are fussy with teamster. They come at mathematical group of 3, 4 or 5. Their chat does n't die down even as the first one empties his bladder inside her mouth. She gulps down every drop, her pharynx muscle skillfully stretching to welcome the deposit. Her jaw used to ache prospicient time ago. Now, it probably would n't work even if her gag was removed.

Some family line grab her by her pigtails and get really close to evacuate their yellow-bellied load. Others prefer to watch out the arrow their current makes before it lands on the miss's lingua."Urinario chica"is given a few lowly, warning shocks when she loses her density and lets droplets scarper her gullet or when she dozes off and instinctively closes her eyes.

In all subject, the resultant is the Saame. A nice, yellowed man-made acetum down the hatch or dripping down her tits.

.

.

.

It 's been 6 calendar month since her abduction. Her disappearance is running non-stop on social media and all gossip news at the starting time, now, a whodunit that would never be solved. Parts of her body and face are drawn in with all form of things, from degrading, racial and sexist blot, to random mastermind farting like a `` Miguel was here '' rightfulness on her cheek, a `` cum on these '' under her pap, or a collection of cum-counters, crossed tune all over her trunk from unlike shop at visitors. The ink from the markers usually fades after some weeks, only to be replaced with new `` artwork ''.

Midnight arrives. `` Conchita '' visits Hayley for the daily criminal maintenance of the comfort station. That 's not her figure. She doesn't know the veridical one. It 's just something that Hayley has decided to call her, in her mind.

The wordless lady approaches her. The communications protocol is standard. Bucket ... rinsing ... food. All done mechanically. Hayley likes to think that there isn't malice in this woman's natural process. certain, she never freed her, nor will she, but at the end of the day, she 's the alone person who takes aid of her, who DOES N'T maltreat her. The Hondurian middle-aged noblewoman takes out a red lipstick, and delicately traces it over the girl 's parted lips. Their flaming-red color, previously completely worn off, now becomes lively again.

The girl keeps still, her scraped, aching articulatio genus always apart, her coat of arms permanently bound in what would be considered a `` begging '' posture for a trained puppy. `` trade good chica '', she pets her for keeping still. The girl closes her eyes, a tear silently running down her cheek, without even the female child realizing it. `` Ssh '' the woman to a greater extent than twice her age keeps petting her to soothe the young lady, then thinks of a better way to do that.

The old woman takes a storage area of the untried little girl 's pap, between her quarter round and pointer finger, and starts gently rubbing them back and forth. The daughter lets out a tenacious sigh, at the unexpected, pleasurable touch. The Honduran lady keeps arousing them, they can cut through crank they 're so toilsome !

Hayley flavor wonderful, she starts gyrating her articulatio coxae towards ... hopefully the woman 's workforce. She can not pass on them in her bound state, but even if she could, the dual vibrator does not permit the kind of contact she craves, but maybe if she keeps doing this ... maybe she could ... come. `` Yes, to a greater extent, pleaseeee ! '' she begs with her eyes.

But the feeling of warm touch on her teat goes away.

"Huuuuh ?"she lets out a disappointed muffled whine. `` Maybe early time '' replies `` Conchita '' and leaves the public restroom.

interior a luxurious office, a man watches his laptop cover, propped on his desk of fine sable. The feed from the hidden camera has been running since day one. The man takes a sip from a chalk of fine, red wine. A quenched smile is stuck on his grimace. He has already found the next big reality star. One that will play by the formula. The last one did not, and she paid the Mary Leontyne Price. He lowers the screen shut. `` I got ta take a leak '' he things to himself. As he gets up to go use the bathroom, his smile turns into a small, sarcastic chuckle .