Donna Selected

This is the second in my Donna Air Trilogy.
“Donna Selected” was written before “Donna’s Big Break”,
but the action featured takes place a few months after the first
Story.

Not to be read by anyone under 18. This story contains explicit
descriptions of non-consensual sex. If this offends you, please look
elsewhere. This is FICTION. If you are tempted to recreate the
following scenes, your psychiatrist is going to be a very happy
man……

Donna Selected

MC, MF, FF, R, ANAL,HUM, CELEB

by Mephistopheles & Maxim

Orginally appered under the Starfuck Banner:
Starfuck: Donna Air

London U.K 1999

I would like to claim that I feel a sense of duty to share my ‘gift’
with those less fortunate than myself. However, this is a hollow
claim – I am nowhere near so altruistic.

Rather, I am all too aware of just how inventive the common man can
be. It seems we all share the same fantasies, the same longing to
see celebrities humiliated, it’s just that I am in the privileged
position to act such fantasies out and I am quite able to take
my lead from the suggestion of others.

To this purpose, I initiated the starfucker forum.

The starfucker forum is a meeting place – a site where ideas are
tossed (in every sense of the word) back and forth between fellow net
pervs.
Requests can be made with regard to a particular celebrity, and the
poster is invited to give a detailed account of the particular
humiliation he / she has in mind.

If I am suitably intrigued by this proposal……

I am introduced to Ms Air upon her arrival at the MTV studio. It was
a simple matter to have myself designated director for this evening’s
Select – a broadcast which, unknown to its presenter, is going out
simultaneously over satellite and the web (courtesy of my Celebfuck
site).
She is just as striking in person….

Friendly, Blonde,tall, ridiculously thin, but with a great
pair of teenage tits.
Her accent is quirky; a bizarre mixture of Newcastle and
London – a combination which only heightens the sense of nativity
around her.

Donna Air is not from these parts. She is a northern lass, a long way
from home. And, tonight, she is going to learn just how out of her
depth she really is……..

Donna Air goes on air blissfully unaware of the Select show’s true
intent. My influence has so far been restricted to the subtle
manipulation of her clothing choices; a tight letterbox cut (ie, one
that shows off some very desirable cleavage) yellow t-shirt and tight
leather pants (perfectly moulded around her immensely fuckable arse) –
capped by a pair of high heeled pvc sandals.

She looks precisely what she is – a prime piece of meat ripe for the
slaughter – but, to her knowledge, there is nothing unusual.

Donna intends to present Select in the same friendly, flirtatious
manner she always does.

Little does Donna know that today she won’t merely cock-tease –
she’ll satisfy…….

My first sighting of Ms Air came when she posed for an extremely
seductive shoot for ‘Sky’ magazine. Few men could have failed to be
aroused by the image on the mag’s cover; Donna wearing a tight white
bikini, leaning forward to show off her titties, thumbs snagged under
her brief’s waistband and slowly peeling them off.

Quite an entrance into the nation’s psyche.
And one that immediately made her a target for starfucking…….

MTV Select is one of the station’s flagships. Its brief is simple –
viewers phone in and request their favourite video, Donna indulges in
a spot of light banter (usually of a flirtatious nature), then the
track is played.

Today appears the same as usual – the normal rendition of banal
callers requesting banal songs. However, there is one discernible
point of interest (or should that be two….?). It appears that Ms
Air is feeling rather chilly (the result of my ordering the studio’s
thermostat down by multiple degrees) – the result of which leaves her
nipples slightly imprinted upon the tight fabric of her t-shirt.

Donna herself notices this change, complaining of her discomfort
during a commercial break, but is rather easily fobbed off.

Those slight protrusions are a tasty premonition of entertainment to
come……

However, enjoyable though foreplay undoubtedly is, it pays to
remember that it is but a prelude to the main event.

In our case, this arrives with the onset of the seventh caller – an
English adolescent named Mark.
It quickly transpires that Mark is not alone in his living room – two
friends,Dave and Matt, are with him – three fifteen year olds
together.
Out for a good time and they have no intention of just requesting a
video……

– You’re a very sexy woman, you know that?

– Thank you, Mark. I’ll send you that money later, ok?

With expert professionalism – after all, she receives this type of
call (normally from one of our Eastern European neighbours) almost
every day;it’s no surprise the number of sad wankers who watch MTV –
Donna sweeps along without even breaking stride.

Donna, the poor “Little” thing has no idea how perilous her position
is; what humiliations are to come…….

– And which video would you like to see?

– You on your knees. Sucking my cock.

Mark’s voice is a barely audible whisper – nonetheless, what Donna
thinks she has heard momentarily throws her.

Donna’s omni-present smile flickers for a split-second as surprise
registers briefly on her face.

– W-what?

Donna instinctively shoots me a glance – silently imploring me to
terminate this call. I smile cruelly and indicate with a simple
gesture that she should keep it going.

This is making great live television…..

– Have you any idea how hard we get watching you, Donna?

-Course you do.

-You’re a proper little cock-tease, aren’t you?

For the next few minutes, the helpless Ms Air is subjected to a
similar level of smutty abuse. Although not overtly threatening in
tone, Donna is evidently distressed by my decision to keep the call
on-air and her own inability to stride off the set.
Indeed, she blushes when Dave draws attention to her poky nipples –
asking directly if she has bothered to wear support.

– We’ve got a bet going.

– Mark and I reckon you’re flying solo.

– Care to enlighten us?

The juvenile giggling that accompanies this comment merely serves to
underline Donna’s humiliation – her assailants are barely pubescent.
The confusion etched across her face is quite delicious. Summoning
admirable force of will, she chooses to defer from answering.

– Listen bitch, it wasn’t a request!

This time the threat is palpable. The clearly shocked presenter
jumps at this sudden change of tone. In the background, we can hear
his colleagues muttering away – mostly voicing their acquiescence.
When a voice returns, it belongs to Mark; deliberate, calm and quite
merciless;

– Lean forwards, Donna.

Yeah, you heard. Bend over. Right over. Come towards the camera.
Yeah, that’s it. Closer. Closer. More. We wanna see
if you’re wearing a bra…..

Donna tries to protest – but it never gets beyond the verbal stage.
She refuses outright, scoffs at the mere suggestion, chides his
madness; but is unable to stop her body responding obediently to
Mark’s words.

Of course,it would be simple to stop her speaking – but my clients
specifically asked that this attribute be retained.

They want to her struggle…..

Right on cue – and in total contrast to the emphatic refusal of her
voice –
Donna begins to lean forward towards the camera. Her feet and legs
remain stationary – only her upper body moves, leaning over to a
forty degree angle and then beyond.

Naturally, as she does so, so the camera begins to peer down her
top. The further she leans, the more we get to see – and it
quickly becomes clear that there is no bra beneath that t-shirt.

As the fabric hangs away from Donna’s tanned skin, the audience get
their first tantalising glimpse of Ms Air’s nipples.

The view is promising, if somewhat obscured.

Not to worry.

Before the evening is out, there will be plentiful opportunity for a
detailed study…..

Donna looks so fucking cute.

Watching her – still verbally protesting even as her body responds to
the commands issued – I can well understand my clients’ attraction
for her.
Speaking of whom, they certainly seem to getting into it – indeed,
there is a discernible eagerness to move things on.

– Do you know that your Dad’s watching today, Donna?
– W-what? How would y- No. He isn’t….he wouldn’t…..

At this moment, I use my ‘connection’ with her to transfer the
knowledge into her mind. Yes, her Dad back in Newcastle is indeed
watching.
Tied to a chair in his house – forced to watch his daughter’s
humiliation.

– Wonder if he’s getting hard?

– Yeah, bet he is.

– Who could fail to get hard with a cock-teaser like you?

The mention of her father has a dramatic effect upon Ms Air.

Almost immediately, tears start to stream down her face.

Seems we’ve touched on a raw nerve.

Suddenly, she’s all too aware just how serious her situation has
become……

After showing her audience her bralessness, Donna is then put there a
sequence of degrading positions – my favourite of which sees her with
back turned to the camera, hands on hips, shaking her booty for our
inspection.

Donna’s a good dancer; writhing lithly (not to mention wantonly) for
our pleasure. This makes her look so damn cheap – those tight black
leather pants do little to obscure the specifics of the treasures
held within.

It’s the equivalent of holding your Christmas presents up to the
light to get a hint of what you’ve been given. However, we do not
have to wait through advent to begin the unwrapping…….

– Donna push your tits together.

As if these earlier performances were not humiliating enough, Donna
reacts predictably to this latest ‘suggestion’. Her tone reflects
her anger – although it is worth noting that she elects not to swear;
still aware that this is a live broadcast.

– N-no!

– You’re mad!

– I won’t do it!

– Who do you think y-…..

– W-what’s happening?

– N-noooooooo pleaseee not here!

Although Donna struggles verbally, her body responds with immediate
obedience. Without even a moment of hesitation, her shoulders push
back, bringing her arms up to her chest.

Her hands position themselves above her rib cage; each cupping one of
those glorious orbs teenage through the shirt’s thin
fabric.

– No! This is wrong. Y-you can’t…..don’t make m-

Sadly, her protests remain entirely impotent (although her actions
have quite the reverse effect on the anatomy of the watching
audience) – her hands mechanically begin to push those fantastic
breasts together.

Soon, they are jammed together; the swell of her ripe melons very
apparent through the tight t-shirt.

Indeed, they are almost entirely visible, squashed together within
the confined space of the letterbox cut.

The camera zooms in, giving us a fantastic shot down the valley of
her impressive cleavage.
Once in position, she is told to shake her tits for the camera – an
effect she achieves with a steady swaying of her entire body.

Her teenage tits so long hidden, now juggle impressively, despite the
hold of her hands.

A lovely sight – ripe for the plucking…..

After deriving sufficient pleasure from her predicament, my clients
decide to move on. Mark, Dave and Matt have got numerous
humiliations lined up for poor little Donna.

They intend to use her just as if she were in their bedroom. And
first they demand a better view of the nipples that top those
perfect tits….

There there, Donna.

That wasn’t so bad, was it?

Look how hard your nipples are.

Almost looks painful.

Let’s see if we can get them any harder, shall we?

– No! I won’t do it! I won’t!

– Take your nipples between finger and thumb.

That’s it. Good girl.

She continues to protest valiantly.

However, it does her no good.

As commanded, her body moves into position – her hard nipples are
quickly between finger and thumb.

She is ready….

Good girl.

Now, start to tighten your grip.

Pinch those nipples.

You like that, huh?

Of course you do.

Tweak those nips, Donna.

Tweak your nips.

Donna’s mental struggle is evident, but it does her no good
whatsoever.
It merely makes a more titillating sight for the rest of us. A very
titillating sight indeed.

The famous Donna Air – former temp now MTV’s fastest rising star,
stands before the watching cameras;tweaking her nipples for all she’s
worth.

It is quite a sight.

A camera moves in for a closer view – giving an amazing picture of
her already hard nipples swelling still further under this brutal
treatment.

Could they possibly get any harder?

When they release her, the nipples are threatening to burst through
the yellow fabric.

They are SO hard.

A quick delve into her mind tells me just how painful her nipples
really are.

Not that I feel any sympathy – after all, this bitch has been cock-
teasing ever since she burst onto our screens.

I think a spot of payback is long overdue.

Ah, poor little Donna.

You’re puzzled aren’t you?

Don’t understand how we can make you do these things?

Maybe, deep down, it’s what you want.

You want to be humiliated.

Dave’s voice has a mocking tone, bereft of sympathy.

Donna will find no respite from this degradation…..

All that screaming must have left your throat rather dry.

I’m right aren’t I?

Yes.

Give her a bottle of mineral water.

A full bottle.

Obediently (not to mention curiously) one of the crew fetches a
bottle of ice cold water and hands it to the waiting Ms Air.

She holds it expectantly, forced to await further instruction.

Now, drink. Drink it all.

The cameras pull back, presenting a perfect shot of Ms Air as she
raises the open bottle to her lips, before tilting the angle back
even further.

Quickly, her mouth fills – even the rapid action of her throat (which
informs me that she would make an excellent cock-sucker) cannot drain
the water fast enough.

As a result, water begins to spill out of the corners of her mouth,
down her face, neck, and onto her t-shirt.

Equally quickly, the shirt gets very wet – clinging to her skin and
becoming semi-transparent.

Very little of her specifics are now concealed at all.

By the time the bottle is fully drained, Donna is shivering.

The wet material on her skin combined with an already chilly studio
has left her very cold indeed.

Donna looks so helpless – perfect…..

The mocking laughter echoes around the studio – serving to further
heighten her sense of humiliation. Her face is a picture of shock –
she can’t believe this is happening to her.

Tears are welling up in her eyes – threatening to burst forth at any
moment.

Time to lose those pants Donna.

The command is issued in a calm, matter-of-fact manner.

However, its significance is anything but matter-of-fact.

Donna realises this and begins to struggle afresh.

How very…..satisfying.

Ultimately, she is helpless to resist.

Unwilling or not, her hands drop to the band of those tight black
leather pants.
Donna stands right in front of the cameras and slides her trousers
down to the ground.
The camera then pans back up those long, tanned teen legs; pausing
only when it reaches her newly revealed black g-string.

Mmmmm………..

Wow!

You really are a hot little fuck, you know that?

These words bring a blush of shame to her face.

A blush that only serves to make her look more fuckable, and thus
cement her fate.

Why don’t you go and have a rest?

Go sit on the couch.

It is not a request.

Reluctantly, but thankful for what seems to be a break from the
punishment, Donna steps over to the aforementioned sofa.

As she does so, the cameras linger upon those fantastically lengthy
legs, with particular focus paid to the thin strip of fabric running
between her buttocks.

What a peach.

Good enough to eat……

Having reached the couch, she is positioned upon it appropriately;
perched on the edge with her legs spread real wide.

The result of this posture is that her g-string is forced even
tighter against her crotch – thus, when the camera focuses between
her legs, we can see the imprint of her teenage cunt lips
against the black fabric.

There is no sign of pube interference; evidence that the impression
made by that ‘Sky’ shoot was probably correct – Ms Air shaves.

Soon, Dave has ‘encouraged’ Donna to simulate masturbation for the
cameras.

Thus, legs akimbo, she runs her hand back and forth over her crotch,
head thrown back in a posture that accentuates the curvature of her
breasts.

To say she looks like some teenage slut is something of an
understatement.

However, our 15 year old stage managers are still not satisfied…..

Donna stands with her back facing the audience.

We can tell by the movement of her arms that she is pinching her
nipples through the wet fabric.
A camera spends its time zoomed up against her g-string, attempting
to discern whether or not the fabric is damp – a question Mark has no
trouble is putting to Donna.

Given her understandable reticence, Mark decides to adopt a more
proactive approach.

Time for Donna to strip…..

First comes the t-shirt; slowly raised over her head and cast aside.

Given that she is facing away, we only get a brief side view of those
perfect breasts – a restriction that only serves to arouse further.

Donna tall, teen and blonde is now left standing there in only
g-string and high heels – a suitable uniform for such a cock-teaser.

When she’s told to bend over, she fights with all her strength;
swearing, threatening, cajoling, begging – to no avail.

Reluctantly she leans over, hands wrapping around her ankles.

A quite beautiful sight – certainly an arse well worth fucking.

Then she’s told to stay in position, spread her legs real wide, and
peel off the g-string.

Fighting all the way, she slowly slides her covering to the floor
before, under instruction, running a finger across her exposed slit.

Gradually, the tempo of this action is increased, until Donna is very
reluctantly using three fingers to rub her snatch with conviction.

At this point, Mark orders her to peel her lips as wide as possible,
giving the audience a chance to see if it’s wet.

Crying with frustration and fear, Donna is helpless to resist.

Her fingers slip into her cunt (issuing forth an audible sigh), find
the walls, and ease the opening apart.

A camera quickly zooms in – revealing her juicy box for all to see.
However, still the humiliations continue…

Good girl, Donna.

Now, be a real slut for us.

Fist yourself.

Yes.

You heard. Fist yourself.

This ordeal continues for over ten minutes. It did not take long for
her to work her entire fist into her cunt – it seems to have been
well stretched in the past.

At the latter end of the ten minutes, Donna has been forced to
pick up the pace – she is attacking her box with frantic abandon.
Indeed,this brutal assault brings her to the verge of cumming –
although she is stopped just the wrong side of the finishing line.

Her frustration is evident beneath all of her sweat – despite
herself, she wanted to come.

Having gotten that close, to stop before completion is immensely
frustrating.

Not that she need worry.

The guys haven’t given up – they’ve just decided upon a change of
prop.

But first the call of nature must be answered……

Donna we’ve been told at school that the female bladder is
considerably smaller than a man’s.

You’ve drank an entire litre of mineral water.

Poor Donna

You must be absolutely bursting.

Smothered by shock, Donna barely hears Matt’s comment.

Tell you what Donna, why don’t you go and relieve yourself?

Use the bottle.

Piss in the bottle Donna.

We’d like to watch, wouldn’t we guys?

Mind games. Don’t you just love them? Even after she has moved into
position – squatting directly over the bottle, its opening cupped
between her pussy lips –

Donna continues to scream her refusal, fighting the forces
of nature with all her strength.

Suddenly, the sound-effects board ushers forth the sound of running
water. Unable, to resist the pull of gravity, Donna lets go.

A stream of hot piss flows into the bottle – accompanied by
a simultaneous outlet of tears from her eyes.

After a minute she has almost filled the mineral water bottle with
her piss – at which point she is told to attach the cap once more.

This is a prop we will return to later.

Now, back to matters at hand……

The look on Donna’s face when she is handed the microphone stand is
priceless.
It first confusion registers, before enlightenment quickly turns
to shock;

Y-you c-c-can’t be s-serious…..

I won’t do it! Yo-

Allow me to describe.

The microphone stand is fairly typical of its breed made from
stainless steel, standing some one and a half metres in height,
maybe an inch thick.

The boys audibly take bets how much of its length Donna will be able
to take. Minutes later, Matt is revealed as the winner by default –
she has slightly over nine inches of stainless steel embedded
in her cunt.

Her hands are wrapped around the shaft as she lies on her back, legs
in the air.
From this position she is able to pump these nine inches back and
forth into her pussy.
In twenty minutes, Donna climaxes three times – each one slightly
more powerful (not to mention loud) than the previous…….

Distracted as she is, Donna does not notice the arrival of Cat Deeley

Cat is an MTV colleague – although she has already successfully
branched out into the wider arena of mainstream (terrestrial)
television – and a serious rival for the position of Britain’s
sexiest woman.

Sadly for Ms.Deeley, she feel under my ‘influence’ quite some time
ago. During this period, I have happily sold her services freely to
any bidder – it seemed only fitting that Cat should be treated purely
as pussy.

Her role in Donna’s degradation is purely spontaneous. As I entered
Donna’s mind, I was surprised to discover a loathing of her rival – a
desire to see Ms Deeley fall. Thus, it seemed only fitting to bring
Cat into the fray. As it happens, she was presenting a special
edition of MTV ‘Amour’ this very night – thus she is already dressed
as I want her; little red plastic horns poking through on either side
of her head.

Very cute.

Very fitting.

In addition to the horns, I have fitted her with a long flowing red
dressing gown (stylishly Chinese in design), under which she
wears…ah, but that would be telling.

First a little more fore-play……

Unlike Donna, Cat does not even have the facade of self-control. She
is entirely my puppet; and every outward sign indicates that she
loves it.

Never have those little devil horns been more appropriate……

Hi there, kitty….

The teenagers immediately adapt to Cat’s presence – having been
forewarned that she might be able to put in an appearance.

After taking a moment to savour her beauty (and, believe me,

Cat Deeley is ever bit as beautiful in person as she is on screen),

Dave quickly devises an appropriate use for this new toy.

Go pick up Donna’s bottle of ‘mineral water’.

Yeah, that’s it. Good kitty.

Tell us Cat, have you ever tasted urine?

The fully enslaved Ms Deeley puts up no struggle – her reply is as
honest as it is instantaneous….

No, Sir.

What, not one of your boyfriends tried to piss down your throat?

I’m surprised.

I know I’ve always wanted to….

Dave’s cruel remarks elicit a chorus of laughter from his companions,
but no external response from Cat herself.

Internally, her humiliation is overwhelming – I know because I take
the time to savour its taste.

Well, time to expand your experiences, I think.

Pick up the bottle.

Unscrew the cap.

Yeah, just like that.

Now, put the bottle to your mouth.

And drink…….

Without a murmur of disagreement, Ms Deeley complies.

It is quite a sight.

Donna’s piss flows out of the bottle into Cat’s waiting mouth.

She gulps readily, ushering mouthfuls of urine down to her stomach.
Under different circumstances, I have little doubt that Cat would gag
at even the thought; sadly for her she has no option other than to
obey.

Wow.

That’s quite a show.

What a good little pussy you are.

Don’t swallow that final mouthful.

You mustn’t be greedy.

You’ve got to share this new culinary delight with Donna….

The mention of her name causes Donna to recoil.

Having watched transfixed (and, no doubt, a little relieved) at Cat’s
humiliation, the full realisation of just what Mark has in mind
finally dawns.

Well, nobody ever accused an MTV VJ of being smart…….

That’s it Cat, hold Donna steady.

Now, lean down and snog her.

Yeah.

Go French.

Give her a mouthful……

Donna is helpless to stop her.

Indeed, she is helpless to stop herself responding to Cat’s kiss.

Soon they are sucking each other’s tongues;

Donna’s piss running out from their open lips and down their chins.

Having been forced to taste her own urine, Donna is left
understandably shocked – her face pale, her eyes blank.

However, while she attempts futilely to recapture her composure,

Cat moves onto the next scene.

Standing behind the cowed Ms Air, Cat slips off her fetching red
gown; beneath it she wears only stockings and a large strap on
dildo.

Thus exposed, she poses threateningly behind an ignorant Donna,
before winking knowingly to the cameras.

The real action is about to begin……

For the next hour, Donna and Cat fuck. Actually, for the majority of
this running time, Donna is raped.

First orally (her head skewered on Cat’s vast strap on), then, after
suitable lubrication had been applied, anally.

Ms Air hollered and shrieked like she was being knifed, which, in
effect, she was.

It made a great show though – her face pressed up against the camera,
every contortion of pain captured as Cat Deeley bangs her tight
little shitter with that rubber cock.

Finally, with only a little help from me, Donna begins to get
off on this punishment – ultimately hitting a climax of volcanic
proportions.

After this, she becomes a much more willing participant; so that now
they lie facing each other, a double ended dildo rammed into each
other’s cunt.

They fuck like a pair of wild cats, putting on a great show for the
folks at home – a couple of real eager beavers…..

Indeed, a brief perusal of my web chat forum informs me that this
pair have proven themselves extremely popular among my clientele.

Many more requests for their services find their way to my
attention.

Upon reflection, I decide to make them a regular attraction at my
club.

It seems only fitting.

In the past, both Cat and Donna have proven themselves only too happy
to crash any celebrity party.

From now on they shall be the main attraction –

Suspended in a large cage above the dance floor…….

The End

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END