GRAPHIC CONTENT WARNING

“I’m tired 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 year old girl, a former model of English and Indian origins, had become a star over the last two years in the States, thanks to the success of her “everyday-life” reality show. Michael Hudson was the one that had discovered her in an L.A coffee shop and offered her the show, making her into a huge star, with millions of viewers and social media followers. But now she had other aspirations.

“I can’t keep doing this Mike, i want to pursue acting. This will only hold me back”. He was not at all pleased to hear that. He tried to smooth 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 give acting a try later on. When her determination proved much stronger, his tone shifted to a colder manner, with talks about the 5-year contract she still had with the company, and her unprofessional attitude. “I’m sorry, i can’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, ebony wood. She just had cost him many, many millions of dollars. “That spoiled cunt…” he said taking a sip from his whiskey. “It’s about time someone teaches you some humility…” he mumbled, picking up a secret cellphone, stashed in the bottom drawer of his desk.

The fashion gala was about to start and the red carpet would be full of celebrities. Hayley was ready, with the help of her dressers, hair-stylists and make-up artists, as always. Her long and straight, dark brown hair shined almost as much as her golden earrings. A hot-red lipstick drew more attention to her full lips, complimenting her Indian complexion. And of course, the young lass couldn’t be there without a jaw-dropping designer dress. It was white and sleeveless with some gold details, with a bust that showed off her voluptuous, natural E-cup breasts without giving everything away, and a tightness that traced her cute slim waist all the way to her perky butt, showing off her curves. It ended tastefully, slightly above her knees. A pair of black, 5-inch heels completed her stunning look. Hayley always wanted to look sexy, but also classy in these red carpet events. She embodied a true red-carpet diva.

A dark Bentley was waiting for her on a secluded, private area behind her house. It was handy to avoid paparazzi. The driver opened the door 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 presence. As soon as the last word left her lips, the unified click of all four of the car’s doors locking was heard.

Before the fabulously dressed celebrity 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 hand. Haley let out a panicked, surprised squeal, but the rag muffled most of her screams. With her arms free, she flailed pointlessly at him. When that didn’t work, she tried pulling his smothering hand away from her face, but the man’s strength was no match.

The driver on the front kept completely calm and still, his eyes forward. Only thing heard in the empty parking lot were the kicks of Hayley’s heeled feet, pounding against the back of his sit.

Hayley kept struggling in Mike’s grip, unable to avoid the fumes making their way through her nostrils. She had no more strength left. Her eyes started to tilt to the back of her head and moments later, she fell limp in Mike’s arms. He pushed his channel’s no.1 star away like a ragdoll. He took his sweet time to remove the latex gloves. Then, without saying a word, he stepped out of the car, which immediately took off, its destination vastly different than a fashion 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 event. Her dress 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 smell well soaked into the room.

Not much movement was readily available. The young, brown girl’s neck was collared in steel and attached via a 3-inch chain to the plumping pipe on the wall behind her back. She couldn’t see it, but the front 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 thick, steel bar had been installed on the floor, right next to it, the chain passing around it as well. This would be more than sturdy.

The girl instinctively tried closing her legs, but discovered it was impossible. Her bare knees made contact with the hard, cold floor, separated uncomfortably far from each other. She could maintain her kneeling position, but it certainly gave access of her privates to anyone. No underwear was in sight.

On either side of Haley were metal floor rings. Just like the steel floor-bar behind her, they looked out of place, betrayed from the broken tiles around them. Each was used to hold a thick chain which passed through it, then around each girl’s knee. She would have been able to free herself from them, if her ankles weren’t chained together, behind the pole.

This would be a pretty bad spot to find yourself in, but the young diva’s humiliating bondage wasn’t over. Two more metal rings, the diameter of a large orange, had been placed over her exposed, plump breasts, and locked shut. Small, 3-inch chains like the ones on the girl’s collar, attached each breast-hoop to metal cuffs on the corresponding 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.