Reality Check

Name: Reality Check
Rating: 3.7 (1 reviews)
Author: denkira7

3.7 (7)

Heavy

Bondage

Domination

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"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 an acting career. This will only hold me back." He was not pleased with that at all. 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 get even more publicity to try acting 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!" His fist fell hard on the perfectly finished desk, made out of the finest, ebony wood. She just had cost him tens, probably hundreds of millions of dollars. "Damn spoiled bitch...", he said as he picked up a secret cellphone, stashed in the bottom drawer of his desk. "...It's about time someone teaches you some humility..."

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, well lotioned, dark brown hair shined almost as much as the golden earrings she had been given to were. A hot-red lipstick on her full lips, complimenting her Indian complexion. And of course, a jaw dropping designer dress. It was white and sleeveless with some gold details, with a bust that showed off her voluptuous, natural 32 size E breasts without giving everything away, and a tightness that traiced her cute slim waist all the way to her perky butt, showing of 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.

A dark Bentley was waiting for her outside her place, as usual. 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 latex gloves?" she asked confused and a little annoyed at his presence. As soon as the last word left her lips, the sound of the car's doors locking, send a chill down her spine.

Before she could react, the man quickly grabbed a hold, around the girl's neck with his left arm, and tightly pressed an ether soaked rag over her face with his right hand. The girl shrieked in panic, but the rag muffled most of her screams. With her arms free, she flailed pointlessly towards him, then tried to pull his hand and therefore the rag away from her face, but the man's strength was no match. She struggled in Mike's grip, unable to avoid the fumes making their way through her nostrils. The driver on the front kept his attention forward, for a few seconds only thing heard were the kicks of Hayley's feet, pounding against the back of his sit. She had no more strength left. Her eyes raised, as if to move inside her head. Then she went limp in Micheal's arms. He pushed her away, took off his gloves and 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 intend for a social event. Her dress had been half-torn, exposing all of her, apart from her mid-section. Not much movement was readily available. The young, brown girl was secured by chains on a metal pole, running vertically on her back. A public restroom, a pretty dirty one, an ugly smell well soaked in the room . 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.

Her knees made contact with the hard, cold floor, separated uncomfortably far from each other, in a way that certainly presented her privates to anyone. She instinctively tried to close her legs, but discovered it was impossible. On each side of her, a metal ring held a strong chain, that passed through it, then around the girl's knee. She would have been able to remove them, if only her ankles weren't chained together, behind the pole. A leather collar with the word "receptáculo" on it, had been fastened on her neck and attached to the pole by a small chain, no longer than 3 inches. It didn't let Hayley turn enough, to look at the sign that had been nailed on the wall, right next to her.

Her humiliating bondage wasn't over. Two other thicker metal rings, the diameter of a large orange, had been placed over her exposed breasts, and locked shut. There was no way they could be removed without somebody unlocking them, as the starlet's full boobs could not pass through their tight grip. On the outside of those rings, similarly small, 3-inch chains led to metal cuffs on each corresponding wrist, permanently securing her arms beside her bulging bosoms.

Finally A steel ring-gag had been placed between her teeth, stretching her jaw wide open, before also locking behind her head. The way she was forced to kneel, her head was at crotch-level of anyone standing in front of her...

Her mascara was soon dripping down her cheeks from the tears, but the saliva, dripping from her gaping lips didn't ruin her red lipstick. After hurting her throat with pitiful cries for help, the hollywood star resigned in occasional moans of desperation. She didn't know that she was in a public restroom in the middle of a small road, connecting two towns in the desert of Chihuahua, Mexico. She didn't know the plans Michael had made for her. About an hour later, the door opened, and a thin, middle-aged Mexican woman stepped in. Hayley renewed her efforts. "Finally!", she thought, "someone will rescue me!"

But the woman didn't do anything to release the girl. She was there for a specific reason. She had been given a job, a job by a nameless employer, but it paid well it she was going to do it. The young girl's eyes widened with fear when she saw the older woman approached her. She fashioned the girl's hair into two wavy pigtails, with a couple of small pieces of rope.

The middle aged cleaning lady continued by taking a large butt-plug and lubing it up. The girl legs began trembling - she had never had anything or anyone up there. But with enough persistence, pushing and twisting and pushing and twisting, the thick part of the plug slipped past her sphincter and the thin part nested there. The Indian girl had worked quite the sweat from the experience, but the woman had one last gadget in her bag. It was a dual vibrator, one that rested on the woman's g-spot, as well as cupping her clitoris. That particular one was, in Hayley's worry, made out of metal. The lady smeared it with another liquid, that was not the lube she had used on the butt-plug, then inserted it into the girl's helpless pussy. She kept the pressure upwards, making sure all parts of the device were in contact with the captive's skin, inside and out. She did this for about 5 minutes, before withdrawing her hands.

It was sealed inside her for good now. The medical glue applied to it, making it now part of Hayley's body. She would not be able to remove it without damaging herself, never mind without the use of her hands.

The woman took out a sport bottle with some type of liquid formula, and squeezed its contents into the girl's open mouth. "No drop", she warned her as she did so, but the girl choked and gagged, spilling most of the fluid on herself and on the floor. The old Mexican then took a small controller in her hands and clicked a button, sending a powerful wave of electricity through the metal vibrator wedged snugly inside the chained woman. The shock was so strong, her scream was stifled and delayed. It hurt so much! Like her two most tender spots were making contact with a hot fryer. "No drop", the woman said again and fed the bottle again.

This time, the bound girl was more prepared, but she still had trouble swallowing with her mouth open. A few shocks later, she had drunk some amount of what would be her daily meal. Her feeder hung the remote's key-chain to a nail, above the sign, and left as casually as she appeared. A sign that read in perfect spanish:

FREE TO USE FOR URINATION OR PLEASURE,
PLEASE DON'T RELEASE AND DON'T DAMAGE
FOR MAXIMUM QUALITY OF SERVICE, USE THE REMOTE CONTROL

It was about 6 in the morning when the first unsuspecting visitors entered. Throughout the day, the former model's, bound, tantalizing form earned her a stiff cock down her throat. The taste of their sweaty, unwashed dicks on her vulnerable tongue made her retch every time. But with her neck collared on the post and the ring-gag keeping her from closing her mouth, she wasn't going to avoid anything they cared to put in there. Hayley wanted to die. It wasn't 24 hours since she was enjoying margaritas with her girlfriends during brunch.

The rumor spread and the next day, from the 20 people that had stumbled upon this public bathroom, the number tripled. At the end of the week, there was rarely a time when Hayley was not being "occupied".

At the start, the girl was pretty "mouthy", whining and cursing in her new "gag-ish" language, and needlessly trying to fight them off with her cuffed hands, now attached to her chained, erection inducing jugs. But her cute defiance was rewarded with electric shocks to her pussy. Those quickly put a break in her prideful stance, making the girl's whole body squirm from head to toe. It was true torture and every time she was shocked, the young starlet would vow never to cause that, again, until the next time she would.

As the days went by, she pleaded more with her eyes, than with her words, but each time, her inviting red lips were too much of a distraction for them to ignore.

But that was only half of Hayley Kapoor's new purpose. The other, was to serve as a human toilet. That was even harder to accept. The taste was horrendous, almost as bad as the feeling of complete humiliation the celebrity experienced!

They'd usually stick their soft dicks through the girl's ring-gag, quelling her resisting turns and protests with the handy remote, and then relieve themselves. The Indian girl would involuntarily swallow a couple of gulps before the urine streamed from her lips. As much as she tried, she couldn't down her yellow treat, faster than it was given to her. So, the remote's zaps burned her soft clit and her g-spot, again.

On one occasion during those days, she even puked from disgust on a man's shoes. She never forgot the ten continuous seconds she was shocked, they seemed like ages. As much as she dry heaved from the gross taste and smell, (hygiene wasn't at the top of her "clients'" priorities), she never puked again.

Other times, occupants would just pee all over her face, boobs and gaping mouth. Avoiding the stream of warm liquid earned her shocks, as well.

Every night, Miss Kapoor would be visited by the same mexican lady, she'd seen the first time. She'd patiently remove her buttplug and place a bucket underneath the girl to defecate in. Shamefully avoiding eye-contact, the girl would relieve her bowels and bladder into the bucket. She would then be hosed down with some water to take most of the day's foul stench out of her body, and fed the same formula, that at least tasted better than any of her previous "meals". "No drop", the woman's strict voice would echo in the empty room.

With time, Hayley obeyed more, managing to swallow a good portion of the nutrient-filled water. She was starving for some regular food, but that was all she was going to get from now on. Sometimes, if she was docile, the lady would say "Good chika" to her, and reward her with a pet between her two pigtails.



Her life had taken a dramatic swift. No longer would she be a pampered celebrity, with everything and everyone at her disposal. She would now be a human toilet and sperm bank, nothing more than a tool, to be used for relieving any random passerby around the area. People here had no idea who she was, the majority of them without access to anything beyond mexican television. If her fame was her only saving grace, it was useless here.

The few women that stumbled upon her, didn't care for her either, instead taking the expensive earrings and the high-end stiletto heels she wore for themselves, leaving only the torn fabric of her piss-stained dress to dangle around her waist.

As the first couple of weeks passed, the restroom's visitors became accustomed to their little luxury, if not a bit jaded. Even though no one had a problem finishing, at the beginning, the girl's efforts were mediocre and lacking enthusiasm at best. The young English-Indian girl choked easily and could certainly not deep-throat thicker pricks, a failure that was frequently punished by piercing zaps on her clit and g-spot. The newest urinal "installed", was there to stay though, so a better, faster service was soon required.

This meant that Hayley had to be more seductive, in order to get each visitor off quickly, so he'd be on his way, drained and relaxed. It also meant she had to "receive" every drop of urine, without any spills, as the overflowing piss could stain the user's pants or shoes. In any case, it was generally annoying.

But, with the help of the dreaded remote control, Hayley methodically learned how to arouse the men that used her. She'd fondle her chained breasts with her hands, raising and squeezing them together. She'd look up at them with submissive eyes, keeping eye-contact as long as possible. She knew they liked that. She sometimes moved her hips back and forth is she sucked them off, something that wasn't totally voluntary. No matter the service, her pussy could not be touched by anyone, only thing filling her was her metal accessory, a constant obstacle to any pleasure.

As the electric shocks on her poor cunt molded her into a better cock-sucker, her gag-reflex wore off more and more, and she learned to relax and open her throat. The stream of urine now flowed almost uninterrupted, from the peehole to her forced-open mouth and down her throat, with little to now reaction from the girl herself, only docile concentration at her task. The taste was always bad, it could never seem good to her, despite the countless times she'd drunk it. But at least she wasn't getting zapped, and after all the pain she'd gone through, that was worth something.

It's about 2p.m. She knows it. Not by the rolex she once had, of course, but she knows that's about when the construction workers are taking their break. The morning is full with farmer's, while afternoon's are quiet when the local football isn't playing, and nights are busy with truckers. They come at groups of 3, 4 or 5. Their chat doesn'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 long time ago. Now, it probably wouldn't work even if her - already rusting - ring-gag was removed.

The next one grabs her by her pigtails, others roll her pigtails around their palms for a better grip, then brutally facefuck her till she almost passes out. The last guy of the current row was less violent and took his time, making the girl drain his throbbing dick herself. The girl was given a couple of small, warning shocks, once when she lost her concentration and slowed down, and another time, when she dozed off and instinctively closed her eyes. She sucks all of them dry, her lips always wrapped around their dicks, carefully as not to make their skin scrape the metal that keeps her jaw open.

It's been 6 months since her abduction, her disappearance running non-stop on social media and all gossip news at the start, now, a mystery that would never be solved. Her dress is still there, essentially a rag now, its silky white turned a dark grey, with a faint yellow tone. Parts of her body and face were covered with all sorts of things, from degrading, racial and sexist slurs, to random brain farts like a "Miguel was here" right on her cheek, a "cum on these" under her nipples, or a collection of cum-counters, crossed lines all over her body from different frequent visitors. The ink from the pens or markers, usually faded after some weeks, only to be replaced with new "artwork".

It's yet another night time. "Conchita" arrives for the daily maintenance of the restroom. That's not her name. It's just something that Hayley has decided to call her, in her mind. It somehow fitted her perfectly. Conchita cleans the floors, wipes the stalls next to the urinals, then turns her attention on the girl. Bucket... rinsing... food. All done mechanically. But without hate. At the end of the day, she's the only person who takes care of her, who DOESN'T abuse her. Conchita takes out a red lipstick, and delicately traces it over the girl's parted lips. Their fiery color has worn off, so she periodically corrects that, to make them even more alluring.

The girl keeps still, her roughed up knees always apart, her arms bound in a permanent "begging" position. "Good chica", she pets her once more, for keeping still. The girl closes her eyes, a tear silently running down her cheek. "Ssh", Conchita keeps petting her to comforts the girl, then thinks of a better way to do that. The old woman takes a hold of the young girl's nipple's, between her thumb and pointer finger, and starts gently rubbing them back and forth. The girl lets out a long sigh, at the unexpected nice feeling. The Mexican lady keeps arousing them, they can cut through glass, they're so hard!

Hayley feels wonderful, she starts gyrating her hips towards... hopefully the woman's hands. She cannot reach 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, more, pleaseeee!", she begs with closed eyes.

But the feeling of warm touch on her nipples goes away. She lets out a disappointed muffled whine. "Maybe other time", replies "Conchita" and leaves the public bathroom.

In a empty, well decorated office, on an ebony desk, a man watches on his laptop. The feed from the hidden camera has been running since day one. The man takes a sip from a glass of fine, red wine. A satisfied smile is stuck on his face. He has already found the next big reality star. One that, hopefully for her, will play by the rules. The last one, did not, and she paid the price, big time. He lowers the screen shut. "I gotta take a leak", he things to himself. As he gets up to go use the bathroom, his smile turns into a small, sarcastic laugh.

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