Starfuck: Vanessa Mae


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. Mind control /
hypnosis is just a fantasy. If you are tempted to recreate
the following scenes, your psychiatrist is going to be a very
happy man……

Starfuck is designed to be a series of STAND ALONE stories

(much like the Hypno- Celeb franchise). However, each story
will feature the same protagonist – an individual with the
power to control people’s minds. At some point, I might
determine the limitations of this power (ie how many people he
can control at any one time), but for now all you need know is
that in order for control to be established he must have
skin-to-skin contact with his target, though only for a split
second. Now, lets just kick back and watch him put his talent
to good use….. Comment and suggestions for future stories
always welcome!

Starfuck: Vanessa Mae
by Mephistopheles

Vanessa Mae is a prodigiously talented violin player. She
first came to public attention in a series of promotional
shots which featured her playing the violin while standing in
the sea – wearing a rather sheer when wet blouse….

The concert was ending on an impressive note. ‘Storm’. As
rousing a finale as is possible for a violin player. As
Vanessa took her bow to the baying audience, I slipped
backstage. With my talent, it is a simple matter to gain
access to her dressing room. I have some time – it’ll take
her a while to get through the audience hunters – time I
choose to pass going through her wardrobe. It must contain
nearly a thousand dresses – from elegant jade to shiny sequins
– yet all of only one design; mini. I smile with
satisfaction. It appears she’s exactly the kind of girl I’d
heard her to be………..

I turn as I hear the door open. She’s here. Silently, I step
into the wardrobe and ease the door closed behind me. I leave
a small gap; small, but large enough for me to view my
target’s entrance.

Vanessa Mae is stunning. Looking even younger than her
nineteen years, her eyes nonetheless possess the appearance of
a knowing wisdom well in advance of her years. Admittedly,
her sex appeal relies predominantly on her youthful looks, in
no small part aided by her choice of clothes. Tonight, she is
wearing a metallic gold mini which ends a good few inches
above her thigh. There follows an appealing quantity of leg,
ended only sexy boots that stretch up almost to her knees.
Perhaps it was this willingness to sell herself via her sex
that made her so attractive, contrary as it ran to the rather
straight- laced conservatism all too often seen in the Chinese
community. Whatever the roots of her sex appeal, she
certainly looked fuckable……

As she steps into the room, she thankfully places her violin
down on the table, before plucking a towel from its rack.
Using the towel to wipe off sweat, she walks towards the
wardrobe. As she opens the door, I step out fully nude,
brushing lightly against her bare arm. Contact has been made.
She is mine. I don’t choose to exert control yet though, I’m
enjoying the foreplay too much….. Having made my dramatic
entrance, I turn around to face Vanessa. Her reaction is
priceless. A bizarre mixture of surprise, fear, excitement,
and sheer incredulity. Finally, she finds her voice. "What
the….?" she breaks down, confusion getting the better of
her. When she speaks again, she is calmer, more composed. "I
don’t know who you are, or what you think your doing, but I’m
giving you ten seconds to leave before I call security."
"You’re not going to call anyone." My voice is calm, flat,
almost hypnotic. I begin to ease into her mind. "You have no
will of your own. Your only wish is to serve. I am your
master. You are my servant. You are my slave." A glance at
Vanessa confirms that my powers are in operation. Her body-
language has gone slack, her eyes staring lifelessly ahead
into space. I now control all of her primary command pathways
– she still has consciousness, but it is isolated deep within
her. To all intents and purposes, she is my puppet…… Time
is no issue. Pop stars are notorious for spending obscene
lengths of time in their dressing rooms post-show. We are in
absolutely no danger of being disturbed. At this moment, I am
becoming self-conscious about my lack of clothing. Time to
even things up…… "Take off your panties." As I
commanded, she slips her hands under her hem and begins to
ease her underwear down. "No. Not like that. Tear them off."
In a single motion, she rips the panties from their position,
obediently handing the tattered remains over to my waiting
hand. They are soft. And wet. "Are you aroused, Vanessa?"
Her reply is unhesitant. "Yes, Master." My raised eyebrow
is all the inquiry she requires. "Performing live, before all
those people, excites me. After a show, I normally come back
to my dressing room and masturbate." My grin grows wider.
For the life of me, I can’t see why she shouldn’t continue
this admirable tradition. Before I give the order though,
another thought strikes me. As she tore off her knickers, I
had briefly glimpsed her black pussy hair. Looking at her
now, I realise that her ludicrously short mini only barely
covers her modesty. Walking over to her stereo, I briefly
skim the selection of CDs, ultimately selecting Marvin Gaye’s
‘Greatest Hits’. Programming in a continuous loop of ‘Let’s
Get It On’, I press play, before turning back to face my
companion. "Dance to the music." She needs no further
instruction, immediately beginning to sway sexily in time with
the rhythm. As she does so, her dress rides up, providing
several teasing glimpses of her public hair. Watching her
perform, all modesty abandoned, is quite a sight. Even with
my long experience of fucking celebrities, there is only so
much foreplay a man can take. She is quite beautiful, her
dusky skin complemented by the show-business gold of her
dress. And those boots; so damn cute. A real nymphet. I
intend to take her in that dress, booties and all – hence my
earlier removal of her panties. Time to move to the feature.
I stop the music, though Vanessa continues to sway gently,
oblivious to all but her master’s commands. Stepping close to
her, I run my hand over her face, easing a finger into her
mouth. Her response is to gently suck. A quick learner.
Turning her around, I push her face first over a table so that
she has to put both arms out in front for support. Pressed
tight against her back, I hitch her dress up over her hips,
revealing her cute little arse in all its glory. Smooth as a
baby’s bottom. "Are you a virgin, Vanessa?" "No, Master."
By now, I have eased the straps of her dress down below her
breasts, which now hang loose. Her dress is now gathered
solely around her midriff. My mouth is close to her ear as I
whisper; "Tell me about it." "I was fifteen. My manager
took me into his office. To negotiate a new contract." Her
breathing is short and sharp. She is quite obviously hot; a
combination of reliving this memory and having her breasts
fondled by a complete stranger, I suppose. With some effort,
she continues. "He made me take him in my mouth and suck him
until he cam-" Her voice breaks into an excited moan. I
have slipped a finger into her hot, wet pussy. As I jerk her
off, I apply more pressure to her back, forcing her further
over the table, until she has to turn her face to the side to
avoid being smothered. I pull my finger out, to her evident
disappointment, and begin to guide my penis into her. I
hesitate teasingly at the entrance; making her writhe with
frustrated anticipation. At this point, I move my finger to
her mouth, making her suck lustily on her own juices. Without
warning, I push in – hard. Her scream is muffled by my
finger, which she bites down upon. I begin to fuck her
roughly – more rape than sex. She loves it……. Her moans
get louder as I ram her. Harder. Harder. Harder. By now she
is screaming at the top of her lungs. I have stepped into her
mind and blocked her orgasm. No matter how hard she pushes
herself onto me, she can’t orgasm. She can’t come until I let
her. After forty minutes, I am exhausted. Vanessa collapses
back on the table, her frustration both evident and total.
Already my mind is moving onto more perverse distractions. I
hand her the violin’ bow, before stepping back to get a good
view. What this musical prodigy is to do next would certainly
put bums on seats in the Royal Albert Hall…… "Put the bow
between your legs. Yes, that’s it. Rub yourself. Slowly."
Quite a sight. Vanessa Mae, classical music’s young oriental
beaty with her violin bow pressed against her still wet pussy,
probing through that soft black hair. From the deepness of
Vanessa’s breathing, she is as eager as I am to let it go
further. "Now put it inside. Fuck yourself with it."
Having placed the bow between her lips, she has gently eased
more and more of it into her pussy, until it is almost
completely submerged inside of her. Now, as per my
instructions, she begins to pump it in and out, frantically
attempting to draw herself to orgasm. I watch her for
fifteen minutes as she writhes desperately; modesty completely
abandoned, she sits legs akimbo, pounding her bow into her own
pussy. Finally, I let her climax – more to protect my ears
than through any benevolant decision. With a loud scream of
triumph, Vanessa Mae collapses back, completely spent. The
life of a performer can prove gruellingly exhaustive…..

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