The Game

There is a mansion, deep within the forests of some insignificant country. Large and imposing, with towers, dozens of rooms, several floors, and a checkered past that few dare talk about. This mansion lies empty and abandoned, forgotten by all unless it is THAT time. Once every year, when corruption, and crime are at an all-time high, and time has forgotten all that has happened in the past this mansion comes back to life.

It is in that period that the mansion is restored by its elusive owners. Its dusty halls were cleaned, its faded carpets and curtains replaced, and the marks of the past removed. It is then that the rich, the powerful, and the influential of the world gather.

Politicians with only the barest grasp on morality. lords who have made their money producing the world's most addictive substances, and control that market with a bloody iron fist. Mob bosses rule cities from the shadows, commanding and directing the ebb and flow of millions of lives with but a wave of a hand. They all gather and meet, to reaffirm old alliances. To make new ones. Or to just escape the daily grind of ruling the world. And all this happens in the background of the gathering's main event, a grand, multi-day spectacle of debauchery and sin only known as; THE GAME.

But what is a game without players? And for the world's leaders, nothing but the best is being arranged. Every year, celebrities from around the world are "Collected" as players. Actresses. Singers. Influencers. Athletes. No matter what they do, a select group of females from that club will find themself snatched from the safety of their normal lives, and brought into the expansive underground prison block, waiting for their turn to be a player in The Game.

On the second to the fourth floor of the mansion, a small army of housekeepers was making the final touch-ups to make each and every luxurious suite fit for a king. From expensive furniture to the finest foods and the softest silks, everything was tailored to perfection. Each room was customized to fit that occupant's tastes and wishes, but they each had one thing in common. In one corner, lit only by a shaded lamp, stood a small round coffee table. Two plush chairs next to it, and a wine cooler that will soon hold a bottle of the world's finest champagne stood in the middle. Laying prominently in view, was an expensive hardcover book, and a simple, disposable pocket tablet. Bigger than a phone, but small enough to still fit in a pocket or purse.

The book contained all the players collected for this year's game. Each page had a picture of one of the players, along with a simple but detailed description of the woman. Page after page after page, all beautiful, all successful in some way, all waiting down below in silent fear for what is to come. If one would look behind the table, to the large bookcase standing against the wall, you would see shelf after shelf filled with similar books. Each book represents a different year, with a different lineup of women. In one book, you could find a page dedicated to Madonna at the height of her popularity. In another, a picture of a nineteen year old Scarlett Johansson. Go forward a few years, and you would find miss Johansson again, this time older, but popular enough that she was requested again. Each and every book held pictures of women who were at one point in time noteworthy for their achievements.

The tablet, though was not just for show, it held not only a comprehensive list detailing each and every little secret that this year's players had, but it also had several functions that allowed the user to vote on who the next player would be, or contact a waiter or housekeeper, or pretty much whatever they wanted to do while at the event. While here, for them, the sky was the limit. And sometimes, not even that.

An older man, in his late forties, was inspecting the room to make sure everything was as perfect as possible. Correcting some minor things here and there, and running through the suite's electronics to ensure it all worked as intended. With a press on a remote, the lights brightened, then dimmed, and then changed colour to encompass the whole spectrum. With another click turned on the air conditioner, and a cool gust of wind blew through the room. With another click, it was gone.

He pointed towards the large OLED tv mounted on the wall opposite the king-sized bed, and it sprang to life with crystal clear ultra HD quality to show a Netflix-Esque selection interface. He scrolled through the category for singers and stopped on one he always liked. "Happy birthday Britney." He was actually at the event when that one was recorded. The event that year was planned to coincide specifically with her eighteenth birthday. And celebrating her entry into adulthood was that year's opening ceremony. He pressed play, and with a different button, turned on the room's full surround set.

Muffled moans and high-pitched squeals filled the room as the recording began to play. It showed a very young Britney Spears on all fours. Her ankles and wrists were clasped in steel shackles and chained to the floor. She was completely naked, displaying that famously hot body so many men lusted after. A man old enough to be her father was straddling her while his cock was sliding back and forth into her ass. Her tits swayed wildly with each violent thrust, and she gave a pained grunt as his hips slammed against her tight ass. Streaks of semen covered her bare back and ran down her thighs as they leaked from her young cunt. A leather strap attached to a ring gag circled her mouth, keeping it wide open for use, as the younger man facefucking her was doing right now. More globs of spit and semen ran from the corners of her mouth. Her brown eyes, once brimming with enthusiastic innocence were now bloodshot with tears rolling down her cheeks.

The man fucking her ass took another two minutes, before her emptied himself deep into her ass. He stepped away and was quickly replaced by a younger man, who wasted no time shoving his hard cock deep into her young pussy. Britney's entire body jerked, and the chains rattled loudly as they snapped tight to hold the young singer in place. He began fucking her with hard, deep thrusts, making her grunt and moan with each thrust.

The head of housekeeping kept watching the recording for another ten minutes, watching and enjoying the brutal destruction of one of the world's most coveted singers at that time. It truly was a birthday she would never forget. She woke up that morning a virgin, young and inexperienced in the ways of sex. She left the event as a thoroughly fucked slut. He watched for ten minutes, but he knew from being there, that the entire opening ceremony lasted four hours.

He pressed some buttons, and the entertainment and sound system fell silent. He gave a short nod to himself, being content with the state of the room. he turned off the lights, no reason to waste energy in this day and age, and closed the door, which fell into its electronic lock, only to be opened by the person staying there.

Meanwhile, in the basement, reachable only through a single, biometrically locked elevator, a team of two was pushing a gurney through the sterile white walls.

The two, one male, and the other female said nothing as they walked with purpose and determination. The pale sharp light coming from the ceiling shone down sharply on the naked person laying on the gurney. Average height. Slim figure. Signs of a rigid and regular workout routine. Soft, yet firm and well-proportioned breasts. A young face that was blissfully unaware of the situation she was in. A grey metal collar was locked around her slender neck, and a small display at the front had a single green light.

This was one of the final participants ordered to be collected. She had been taken from her own home in the dead of night. She had woken up when the extraction team pounced on her and pinned her down, but the sedative was already injected into her body before she fully realized what was happening. Her struggles quickly became weaker, and as they bent her arms behind her back, and snapped steel cuffs around her wrist, she had already become too weak to resist. Her legs flopped around uselessly as she tried to escape their grips, but they had no trouble locking them with cuffs as well. Her gargled speech was silenced by a big, bright blue ballgag. To further humiliate her, steel alligator clamps were clipped to her nipples, and she screamed in her gag as the sharp sting of the clips bit down harshly into her sensitive nipples. A vibrating egg was shoved into her pussy, and set to medium. The team lifted her bound and weakly squirming body off the bed, and into a specially made bag. The last thing she experienced before the sedative took her, was the bag being zipped close, and she was left in the dark with only the sharp pain in her nipples, and the pleasant hum in her cunt. Which she was ashamed to say, was already starting to get wet.

The two stopped in front of a solid steel door, and the male tapped a code on the number pad in the wall. The door opened silently revealing a baren cell.

A single bed, steel, lidless toilet, and a sink with a faucet worked almost all the way into the wall. The walls and floor were all made from single sheets of steel, making them almost completely unbreakable. They pushed the gurney into the cell, and with practised ease, transferred the sleeping woman unto the thin mattress. As they left the cell and locked the door behind them, a display worked into the centre of the door activated showing a picture of the woman sleeping within.

Gomez, Selena.

Actress, Singer.

The two walked back towards the elevator and passed many such doors. Almost all of them were displaying a picture of the woman locked within. Actresses, famous for blockbusting movies. Singers who dominated local and global charts. Athletes who crushed the competition in awe-inspiring displays of physical prowess. And even a few YouTubers and streamers, who with but a word to their millions of viewers could affect or shape the world around them.

All were gathered here to be the players in the latest incarnation of;

THE GAME.

So I came up with this cause I was bored at work. The idea is that the lovely ladies gathered below the mansion compete against each other in a series of head-to-head challenges. Obviously, these challenges will be erotic in nature, and I stretch the definition of erotic here.

To our beloved readers, I ask you to leave a small list of suggestions of who you would like to see in this. Please keep the list to a maximum of five (5), so as many people as possible can leave suggestions. As mentioned, any and all are welcome in this case, don't feel restricted to just Hollywood celebs. I already locked in one, cause I feel like she would fit right in with stories like this. Once a decent list has been established, I will create a shortlist with as much diversity as possible. So some of your suggestions may not make it to the main list of players, but they can still appear as a side thing or something. Additionally, don't let the fact that a name is already suggested keep you from doing so again. If we have multiple suggestions for the same person, that only means she is popular and thus increases the chance she appears somewhere.

It goes without saying that any writers who would like to join in on the fun are of course free to do so.

Cheers, and let's see how far this will take us.