Content Warnings: BDSM Fantasy, F/m, femdom, non-consensual, kidnapping, bondage, pegging, sex slave.
Hannah wanted a boy.
No surprise there. Hannah preferred boys. Sure, she liked to have girls too. Frequently. But Hannah’s playmates were boys more often than not. Old enough to buy a drink and too young to run for congress. That was the sweet spot. The fact that Hannah herself was in that group at age twenty-two had nothing to do with it. It was just how old she liked her toys.
The thought of her next boy toy was never far from her mind, even if she had to keep it in the back for most of the night. Performing was hard work, no matter how much people liked to scoff at spoiled rich celebrities. She sang and dance for a crowd of thousands, all there to see her. Hannah Blaise, pop superstar. Actress. The headliner. Resplendent in her gold and white concert outfit. They cheered and screamed for her, for their favorite songs and the spectacle of a live concert.
Between songs the bright lights would dim enough to see the crowd, and Hannah could shop. She swept her gaze over the crowd whenever she could steal a glance and inspected the people that crowded up to her when she came close to the edge. She was limited to the people who were close enough to get a good look at, but before long she had a few candidates in mind and narrowed that list down as the night went on.
The signal came late, with only a few songs to go. A pass code from Hannah’s favorite sponsor whispered in her earpiece, almost too low to be heard over the massive speakers behind her and the roaring crowd in front of her. Hannah’s smile—already wide form adrenaline, exhilaration, and the adoration of thousands—grew bigger.
She turned so no one could see her mouth, held one hand up to her earpiece and spoke.
“Section C, fourth row from the back. Blue shirt. Red hat. No glasses.”
There was no answer.
X*X*X
There was a tap on Garret’s shoulder. When he turned to look, he found a couple of security guys looking at him. One of them had a mustache.
“Uh, hi!” Garret called out over the music. He was trying very hard not to stare at all the muscles on display beneath their simple black shirts. “Can I help you guys?”
Other concertgoers were turning around now, looking and wondering what was going on. The man with the mustache who’d tapped Garret’s shoulder leaned in.
“Would you like to come backstage?”
Garret blinked. Stared a bit at the unyielding, but suddenly less intimidating face in front of him.
The security guy nodded and gestured toward one of the exits.
He looked back at the stage. Took in the sight of his favorite singer moving across the stage. It suddenly struck him how insanely hot she was, even from a distance. He was close enough to make out more of her features than just her long hair. The sparkling gold thigh high boots, figure hugging top, and long fingerless gloves were worn over a pure white body suit that covered the rest of her legs and arms.
Garret could swear she had made eye contact with him earlier in the night, even winked at him! Was he seriously about to meet Hannah Blaise? He’d heard of fans being invited backstage and to the front row or something, had even daydreamed about it, but now it was seriously, actually happening?
Garret turned back to the security guy still waiting for an answer. “Hell yes I want to come backstage!”
He tried not to feel smug at all the jealous looks he got.
X*X*X
The hard work didn’t end when the concert did.
First came the post-show meeting, where Hannah met with the producers and crew and her backup dancers and band to discuss how everything went, point out potential issues, highlight things that went right, and everything else that needed to be talked about.
Most musicians liked to shower at this point, but Hannah could never find it in her to do the same. She wanted to take her showers in privacy, thank you very. A hotel room was as public a place to take one as Hannah was willing to tolerate. Besides, she didn’t want to wait to “unwind” any more than was absolutely necessary.
After the meeting came the press (ugh).
Once that was done, Hannah was off to the meet and greet with fans. Contest winners and the like. Hannah enjoyed that part. These fans were generally respectful, knew what they were talking about, and were pretty fun to talk to. Once they got over being starstruck, anyway. Three of them had been brought backstage during the concert. Hannah was surprised by that. It was a much smaller number than usual. She was also delighted; because the boy she picked out wasn’t among them.
When the meet and greet was done, it was time to leave.
Hannah couldn’t keep the grin off her face as she marched to her tour bus, a bodyguard at her side. There were some fans and paparazzi nearby, held off by security. Hannah was happy to smile and wave at them before making it onto her bus.
The lights were on. The engine was roaring. Chuck, one of Hannah’s security team, was waiting there with crossed arms. His face was as unimpressed and impassive as ever. Not that Hannah cared. She thought the way his mustache hid most of his mouth was cute.
“Well?” she asked him when the door was shut and the engine running.
“You hit a jackpot with this one, Miss Blaise. A bit younger than you usually like. Nineteen years old. But he came here alone tonight. He’s a fan, but he didn’t want any of his friends making fun of him for it. No one knows he’s here. You got him all to yourself.”
Hannah licked her lips, growing aroused by the second. She barely heard the amused snort Chuck made. Or the “have fun” that came from him or possibly the driver.
The back section of the bus was closed off from the rest. Soundproofed and keycode-locked behind a heavy door. It opened to reveal a black curtain, one final line of privacy to keep Hannah’s portable dungeon as private as possible. She waited until the door was shut and locked again before pushing that curtain out of the way.
Honestly, it wasn’t much of a dungeon. It looked more like a mini-bedroom than anything else. There were a couple of bunk beds built into the wall. A sink with a mini-fridge next to it, a nice chair to sit down and read or write in. A dresser in the back, and a shower built into the corner. All in all, it took up a little more than half the bus. Inside the dresser were a couple drawers worth of equipment, but for the most part few people would think “dungeon!” when they saw it.
Except, of course, for the portable bench-like object currently latched to the floor in the center. A padded bondage horse, with adjustable appendages for someone’s arms and legs. And strapped onto that horse, each of his limbs secured nice and tight, was Hannah’s new boy toy.
The first thing Hannah saw was his bare ass. He’d been positioned with his face pointed at the back of the bus; his rump presented to whoever walked through the door. He was mostly naked, having stripped of all his clothes but the bright blue shirt he must have bought at this concert. The list of cities the tour had been to was emblazoned on the back. Cute.
His head was up and swiveling around in a futile attempt to learn more about what was happening. He wouldn’t learn much with that thick leather blindfold covering the upper half of his face. Beneath that was a matching plug gag for the lower half. Hannah wondered if saw where he was before his vision was taken away. The engine rumbling beneath the floor and the sense of motion as the bus started moving were pretty big hints right now, but what about before that?
Whatever he was thinking, Hannah’s new toy was definitely nervous. He visibly shook on the horse, whole body shivering as he became increasingly aware of Hannah’s presence. The door’s unlocking wasn’t exactly silent, there’s no way he didn’t hear her come in. On top of that, he started sniffing the air soon enough. Hannah was still sweaty from a full night of performing. Of course he could smell her.
Hannah took one careful step at a time until she was close enough to get a good grip on his ass. He jumped at the abrupt grab and let out a muffled gasp. Now his head was whipping back and forth as Hannah squeezed and felt him up. It was a pretty nice ass. Surprisingly firm, given how skinny (maybe even scrawny) he was. A bike rider, maybe?
The frightened moans intensified as Hannah’s hands drifted. One climbed up to the small of his back, running slow circles that made him shiver even more. The other traveled downwards, and Hannah couldn’t hold back her grin she suddenly grabbed him by the sack and heard him yelp.
“Very nice,” Hannah whispered as she moved her hand a little forward and got her first touch of her toy’s stiff member. A natural submissive. Chuck was right, Hannah really had hit the jackpot tonight. “Ready for me already? Good boy.”
He grew more distressed at her voice and started begging incoherent words beneath his gag as Hannah left his privates alone to stand fully upright. She walked forward, running one hand across his back as she cast a critical eye over his body. Definitely scrawny. Pretty pale too. He probably didn’t get out as much as he should.
Not that the specifics of his appearance really mattered. Hannah played with all kinds of people. Skinny, muscled, chubby, flabby, fit. That wasn’t the important part. The vulnerability was. Nothing her toys did were going to stop Hannah from doing whatever she wanted with them. That was the important part. That was what made this a million times more intoxicating that a random hookup.
“I bet you’re wondering what’s happening to you,” Hannah said as she made it to his head. The boy stifled his moans and was suddenly listening with rapt attention. Oh yes, he wanted to know what was going on. Hannah chuckled.
Sometimes Hannah liked to tell her toys what was happening to them. How an organization of slavers contacted her a year or two before, offering her a “sponsorship.” Payment and other benefits in exchange for letting them use her concerts and other events as hunting grounds for fresh merchandise.
It was a pretty straightforward setup, honestly. Almost disappointingly mundane. The slavers would pick out people in the crowd they thought were alone, or in small groups. Then they’d offer them backstage passes and, if they were sufficiently isolated, they’d snatch ‘em. Those who weren’t alone enough were allowed to continue on to meet the pop star they had no idea would happily sell them into slavery if the night had gone just a little differently.
They didn’t always meet their quotas. But when they did, they let Hannah pick out a toy of her own to play with before turning it back over to be sold. Usually a man. Women a little less often.
The deal was that she could keep a slave if she wanted one, but she hadn’t found one she liked enough to keep yet.
“Well, that’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about,” Hannah said out loud. She’d reached the head in question and gave the pretty little head in question a few gentle pets. The boy strained his neck to “look” up at his captor through the blindfold.
Hannah sat down before him, gently positioning his head to face her directly before carefully pulling off the blindfold. The boy blinked rapidly at the sudden burst of light before his vision cleared and he looked directly at her.
Her heart melted at the sight.
The boy’s big brown eyes were wide and wet with a fear that somehow seemed a thousand times more intense than anyone Hannah had seen before. The boy was practically exploding with the vulnerability Hannah craved. And it didn’t vanish when recognition came and he realized who he was looking at. Awe mixed in with terror when he understood that he was staring at the very woman whose face was emblazoned across his shirt!
Hannah giggled. Even being kidnapped and held prisoner wasn’t enough to stop some people from being starstruck at the sight of her. Her makeup would be smudged by now, the smell of her probably overpowering, and he was still looking at her like she was a goddess.
“Awwww,” she cooed dramatically, never letting the smile drop from her face. She wiped a little bit of sweat from his brow. “Poor baby. You look so scared. Were the big mean men who brought you here nasty to you?”
Too shocked to even whimper, the boy just stared.
“Well you don’t have to worry about them right now. You just have to worry about making me happy!”
Now he whimpered.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s not hard. You just have to lie there and take it. Maybe squeal a bit. And when I’m done, maybe you can go home!”
He stopped short, hope blossoming in his eyes.
Hannah gave him an indulgent nod. “That’s right. Usually I just play with my toys for a day or three and sell them off. But with the tour almost over I might take you back home with me instead!”
He cried out in protest.
“Don’t be like that. I know how you really feel.” Hannah stood and sauntered back to his side until she could reach down and… “See? Look how much harder you are than you were just a few minutes ago! You naughty little liar, trying to make me think you’re not loving being my slutty boy toy.”
“Nnnnn!” He tried to argue, but Hannah could hear his resistance fading. Or was that just wishful thinking?
“Come on now,” she spoke slowly, as if to a child. “You could do a lot worse than me for an owner. You’re a fan, right? You paid and went out of your way to see Hannah Blaise, and now you get to belong to her! Isn't that better than ending up with some random CEO or trust-fund baby? Trust me, this is pretty much your best-case scenario.”
That actually seemed to give him pause. He was suddenly frozen there with hsi head straining to look at her, his eyes still bugging out. Too cute. Hannah thought of letting him off the horse so he could come down and kiss and lick her boots a bit. She bet he would like that. Eventually. And if he didn't, so what? He was there for her pleasure, not his.
Soon he started to mumble and moan some more, but Hannah wasn’t listening. She was at the drawer, pulling out one of her favorite tools. A strap on. One of her smaller ones, for beginners. She made sure to attach it to herself in full view of her captive, carefully making sure it would stay on. Then she stepped back over to the space in front of him.
“Don’t worry,” Hannah instructed. “I’ve got some lube too. But I want you to christen this bad boy before I start breaking you in.” She pulled the plug out of his gag, pooled drool creeping out as she let it fall away from his face and hang on by the little chain.
There was another frozen moment where Hannah stared down at those eyes, drinking in everything she could see in them. Fear, confusion, shock, awe, hope, all of it.
She then unceremoniously shoved the silicon member into his mouth. He gagged at first, not expecting the intrusion into his mouth and down his throat until it was too late. Hannah thrust in an out several times.
“That’s it, sweetie. Get it good and wet for me.”
True to her word, Hannah added some lube to the strap on when she was done wetting it with the boy’s drool. She pet him some more, let her hands wander across more of his body, before returning to his fine ass.
As she took him there in the back of her own tour bus, working out the last of her concert adrenaline and loving every protesting squeal he made, Hannah came to a decision.
She was definitely going to keep this boy for herself.