The Redemption Ball by linemstr@aol.com

Part I

"I know I was wrong, but you know I can't afford to pay off the judgment. What can I do to make amends and work again?" "Chrissy, no one in town is willing to take a chance with you again. NO ONE! You're a fine actress--a GREAT actress. But you're simply too big a pain in the ass."

Mel Iberson was sitting across the huge office desk from Chrissandra Melrose, known in the business as "Chrissy," one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. A stunning blonde, she was another Marilyn, but about twenty pounds lighter and with assets like you wouldn't believe. She had been the brightest star on the Hollywood sky, with seven roles to her credit, two of them resulting in academy nominations. In the earlier days of her career, she and Iberson had had a brief tryst, but it ended quickly as she moved up the ladder of stardom, and no longer felt she needed Iberson's casting couch. She soon revealed her true colors. She was a consummate tease, and a real bitch, spelled in all capital letters. The string of "perks" in her contracts was growing exponentially, and her unpredictable behavior added up to millions in cost overruns on every picture she had made. Her last picture was with Iberson's studio. Halfway through the shooting, Iberson and his studio had had enough. He sued--and won fifty million dollars in damages from her. Both her career and finances were ruined. No producer in Hollywood would give her another chance. She was simply too risky and, for the moment, was also a laughing stock. Now she was sitting in Iberson's office with her attorney, Jason Roberts, in an attempt to make amends. Iberson wasn't buying.

Her attitude was visible in what she wore. Iberson could not help but notice that she wore a white cashmere sweater and no bra. Her magnificent breasts filled the sweater nicely, separating the knitted threads just enough to get a hint of pink flesh and rosy nipples. Her skirt was about six inches below her pussy, which Iberson knew was as blonde as the hair on her head. She made no attempt to pull her skirt down as she sat, but her legs were kept respectfully--no--denyingly--crossed.

"There must be SOMETHING I can do to change things!" Chrissy wailed. "You're too much of a control freak," said Iberson. "Until you convince everyone that you can work within the bounds set by the producer and director, and until you convince everyone that you have some respect for others, you won't get a job. And, incidentally, you owe me fifty million dollars." "I can't pay. What do I do?" Chrissy held her head in her hands, truly sobbing. Mel looked at Chrissy's attorney. They looked at one another knowingly, and Roberts winked at Iberson. Mel, what about that new project I heard you were working on?" said Roberts, slyly. Chrissy looked up. "What new project? What is it?" "It wouldn't be right for Chrissy," said Iberson. "It would require her to do everything she won't do." "Like what?" asked Chrissy, almost pleadingly. "Well, it's a movie version of all three of the "Beauty" stories by Anne Rice. It is about what happens after the prince awakens Sleeping Beauty. Sort of a sequel to the fairy tale." "It sounds great!" said Chrissy, exuberantly. What would I have to do to star in it?!" she asked.

"I don't think you understand, Chrissy. The heroine is made a sex slave by her new husband. She is led bound and naked through the countryside, is screwed by more men than just her husband, is publicly punished, and has to endure a host of other indignities. It isn't your kind of movie."

"You're absolutely right!" said Chrissy, indignantly. She quickly was reverting to her old attitudes. You know I don't do nude scenes! And to be nude and bound--WELL--You're right. It just isn't my kind of film!"

"Then I guess you and I have nothing further to discuss, Chrissy," said Iberson, rising from his chair and offering his hand in a farewell gesture. There was a long silence in the room. Nobody said a word. Both Roberts and Iberson stared at Chrissy. She quickly realized what she had done. "I did it again, didn't I?" Chrissy finally said. "Yep, you did," said Iberson. "I know it isn't your kind of film, Chrissy. But, on the other hand, if you did it, and did it well, what better proof could you have that you had changed?" "OK, I'll give it a try," said Chrissy.

"Not good enough, Chrissy. You have to decide now whether you are committed to do this or not. We already have five actresses who are excited about the part, and we are weeding the list tomorrow. But if you pass the audition and still want it, it's yours."

"What audition?"

"Well, we'll need some evidence that you're serious." "What evidence!? I've told you I'll do it. Isn't that enough?" "No, frankly, it isn't. Before I invest millions in you again, I need to know you won't back out a week into the shooting."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked. Her hands were clasped in her lap, her knees together, and her head was down. Iberson had never seen her so submissive before. He and Roberts winked at each other again.

"Every year there is an underground party given by most of the Hollywood producers and their guests. Identities are disguised so the guest of honor cannot recognize anyone in particular. At this party, the wayward star is a guest of honor. The star is given the opportunity to repent, and be re-admitted back into the fold. The star's punishment is appropriate to the offense he or she has committed on the Hollywood establishment. I am in charge of the selection of the guest of honor this year. We never have a shortage of potential candidates for the guest of honor role, but I believe everyone would be most interested in seeing you receive the honor this year. In order to get this part, you must agree to be the guest of honor and be punished in front of the other producers and their guests. We call it The Redemption Ball."

"Just what will that entail?" Chrissy asked, still meek.

"Well, I won't tell you everything, but I will tell you this. The part which you want requires public nudity, bondage, and punishment. You may consider this party the audition for the part. You will be picked up by my limousine and taken to the site of the party. You will be presented to the assemblage for your punishment. Everyone producer in Hollywood, and a few other people, will see how beautiful you truly are. Before the night is over, they will also see how wonderful your acting truly is--except you won't really be acting. You will be punished and tormented. It will be a true test of your new image, and whether you can do this part or not."

"I'll just ask you straight out. Will I be naked?" "That is up to you. No one will touch you where you are covered. Whether or not you are naked will be up to you."

"Will I be bound?"

"Yes, and occasionally gagged and blindfolded. It is intended to be both an audition and a punishment. You may find that you enjoy it, but that is really not the purpose of the audition."

"Will there be sex?"

"I don't know what you mean Chrissy. Ask me directly what you want to know."

Chrissy looked up, straight into Mel Iberson's eyes. "Will I be tied up and fucked in front of everybody?" "First, that would require nudity, and I've already told you that that is largely your decision. However, would how specifically I answered that make a difference in your decision, Chrissy?" asked Iberson.

"I-I guess n-not," said Chrissy, her eyes again reverting to their gaze at her lap. She never got an answer to the question. Then she looked at Roberts and asked, "Is this legal?"

"No, but who's going to file a complaint? Who can prove any of this? Are you being forced to comply with a condition? If any of this gets out, will your debt no longer be owed? Will you be able to work again by exposing every producer in Hollywood in this redemption ceremony? Think about it, Chrissy. You've been given a real opportunity here, unorthodox as it may be."

"I-I guess there is no other choice. I'll do it."

"Good," said Iberson. "The party will be two weeks from tonight. My driver will pick you up in my limousine at 7:00 p.m. sharp. You will wear nothing during the day that day. When you dress for the party, you will wear only what you receive from me the day before. Bring everything with you that you receive, including the case containing the clothing. Any questions?" asked Iberson.

"No, I guess not," said Chrissy, her eyes still diverted downward. "I'll be there."

The day before the two weeks was up, a plain black suitcase arrived at Chrissy's home delivered by Iberson's driver. On opening the suitcase, Chrissy found a simple sleeveless black dress and a pair of black pumps with 3" heels. In addition was a black blindfold, a black ball gag, a pair of black fur-lined handcuffs and key, a black leather collar, and a leash. The collar had a ring attached in both front and back. Chrissy couldn't figure out the reason for the rear ring. The front was obviously for the leash. The dress was cut on an A-line motif, which meant that it would fit loosely. The wide shoulder straps snapped to the front of the bodice, and a zipper ran the entire length of the front of the dress. There was also an ominous-looking douche and enema included. The instructions accompanying the dress read as follows:

'Don't forget, Chrissy. Tomorrow, you are to wear nothing all day. We don't want any red lines or clothing marks on your body. You may put on the dress and heels no earlier than 6:30 tomorrow night. Make sure your evening toilette routine is completed before then, including the use of the accompanying douche and enema bottles. Empty the suitcase on the bed. Open the handcuffs and place the key in the empty suitcase. Place the empty suitcase next to the door and leave the door unlocked. Return to the bedroom and put on the dress and heels. After putting on the dress, put on the collar and attach the leash to the front of the collar. Unlock the handcuffs and place the open handcuffs in your lap. Put the key in the suitcase, and put on the gag and blindfold in that order. Finally, handcuff your hands behind your back and wait for the driver to arrive to take you to the Ball. I want you to get the feel of the role early.'

Chrissy took out the dress and hung it in the closet. She placed the suitcase in the closet until tomorrow, and headed for the wine. She needed a drink.

The following day, Chrissy stayed in the house, nude, and more than a bit apprehensive. Most of her day was filled with the usual second-thoughts about what she was about to do. Try as she might, she could think of no alternatives to going through with Iberson's demands.

At 6:00 p.m., Chrissy used the douche and enema, showered, and put on her usual make-up. A little after 6:30, she emptied the contents of the suitcase on the bed and placed the empty suitcase next to the front door, unlocking the door just before returning to the bedroom. First, she donned the dress. It was short, VERY short, just barely covering the cheeks of her ass. The heels made her appear even more risque. She sighed, and put on the collar, attaching the leash to the front. Next, she put the handcuffs in her lap, making sure they were opened wide, and she put on the gag. She put the key in the suitcase. The blindfold was next. The last item was the handcuffs. She knew that if they went on, there would be no recourse. She snapped the cuff shut on one wrist. Placing her hands behind her back, she sighed, and felt the cuff tighten as it snapped on her other wrist. Now she knew true helplessness. She could only sit and wait in darkness for the driver to take her to her fate.

It wasn't long before she heard the front door open. She stiffened. Then she heard soft footsteps across the carpet in the bedroom.

"Ms. Melrose, I presume. Come with me, madam." Chrissy felt a gentle tug on her leash. She arose and followed the voice, presumably that of the chauffeur. She was more than a little embarrassed to be "handled" by a stranger dressed as she was. Blindfolded, she couldn't tell if the skirt was covering her pussy and ass or not. But regardless, she could do little about it. Likewise, she couldn't tell if anyone saw her being placed into the back seat of the car. The ride was rather long, and the leather seats were cold against her bare ass. Chrissy couldn't tell if the windows were tinted or not. She had no choice but to let people look if she was visible. The possibility of being seen in such a predicament would be little embarrassment compared with what she knew she would experience before the night was over!! Finally, the limo pulled into a driveway and stopped. Chrissy was led into a house. When the blindfold was finally removed, she found herself in an ornate bedroom in front of Mel Iberson and a maid. She was still gagged and bound.

"Good evening, Chrissy," said Iberson. "I assume you had a pleasant journey. You have followed my instructions perfectly, or so it would seem. But we must now make sure. Janie, please remove Ms. Iberson's dress."

Continued in Part II