Slaves of Hollywood 6 - Comic Con Captives by Declan Brand

Slaves of Hollywood 6 - Comic Con Captives

(Declan Brand)


Chapter 1


“You wanted to see me?”  Andy really wasn’t all that happy to see Malcolm—at least, not here, not now.  He shouldn’t have shown up without contacting me.  The big man glanced at his security screens.  Somebody might be watching him...  He sighed.  Still, he’s always been a good customer.  It can’t hurt to be polite.

As soon as Malcolm walked through the door, Andy knew that things were different for the Producer.  He’s lost some weight, the burly man realized.  And that suit is out of style.  He looked closer.  And has some wear on the cuffs…

“I know you’re worried about security—but you can relax,” Malcolm nodded toward the screens.  “Nobody followed me out here.” He smiled crookedly.  “Hell, nobody really cares what I do nowadays!”

“Business is bad?”  Andy touched a button on his desk’s intercom.  “I thought your little film went over pretty well.”

That film did great!”  Malcolm shrugged his shoulders.  “The other things I made last year...”  He shook his head.  “Not so good.”

The door to the office opened and two women entered.  Heather was first, walking carefully, a short hobble chain keeping her steps tiny.  She was naked—common enough in this place—wearing only a leather collar and a broad leather belt.   Each wrist was attached to the belt by a two-foot length of chain—leaving her just enough slack to allow her to carry the sliver serving tray—an item heavy enough to force her to balance it very carefully indeed. 

Despite her effort to keep things level—and despite the weight of the chains and tray--Heather walked beautifully, swaying her hips with each step.  She did not look at the masters, but kept her eyes submissively downward as she made her way into the room.

Another girl, Sonia, was just a step behind, similarly accoutred and carrying an identical tray.

“Like a drink?”

As he spoke, the two slave girls fell to their knees—one alongside Malcolm, the other nearer to Andy.

“That’s Heather, isn’t it?”  Malcolm nodded toward the first girl.  “She’s looking good.”

“She’d better.”  Andy ran a possessive hand over the girl’s closely cropped hair.  “If she doesn’t, she gets punished.”

Malcolm smiled and looked at the girl closest to him.  “Sonia looks pretty good too.”  He reached out, ran a finger down the line of her jaw.  “But then, she always did.”

Andy saw a slight shiver pass over the girl as Malcolm touched her—but it passed quickly.  She really doesn’t like him.  He smiled inwardly.  So…

“Sonia.”  He stared at the girl.  “Do you have something to say to this master?”

Another shiver ran over the dark-haired girl—so slight only Andy noticed it.  She turned toward Malcolm and softly asked: “Master, may I serve you?”

“How about it Malcolm.”  Andy gestured with an open hand.  “Do you need a quick blowjob?  Something to relax you?”

“You’d let me use her?  Here?”

“Sure.”  Andy shrugged.  “She’s a slave girl—it’s what she does.”

Malcolm looked at the kneeling figure for a long moment, then: “No—thank you--but not right now.”  He turned to Andy.  “I just want to talk a little business.”

“All right.”  Andy took a cup of coffee from the platter the girl next to him was holding—waited while Malcolm did the same, then: “You may leave now.”

The girls rose gracefully and, with an almost identical sway of equally enticing hips, turned toward the door.

Andy swatted Heather’s ass as she did so.  “Slave—go to my room and kneel alongside my bed.”  He smiled.  “I may want to use you when I’m done here.”

“Yes master,” she half-turned, smiling.  “As master commands.”

“Sonia.”  The other girl froze near the door.  “You were less then pleasing—report to Mitchell for punishment.”

“Yes Master,” she intoned, face suddenly stony.  “How many strokes should I tell him to give me?”

“Five should do.”  Andy motioned with his hand.  “Go there now.”

There was a flutter of softly-rounded flesh—and the girls were gone.

“Those two turned out pretty good—did it take a lot of work?”

“Not too much.”  Andy smiled.  “And you should see them work together in bed...”  The smile disappeared.  “Now, what can I do for you—and why did you come out here without calling?”

“I have problems.”  Malcolm leaned forward in his chair, eyes suddenly serious.  “The last couple of films I made have done really poorly at the box office.  The studio is trying to freeze me out--I can’t get funding for anything...”

“Do you need a loan?”

He shook his head.  “Nope.  I’d need too much to do anything worthwhile—besides, I have a better idea.”  He looked Andy in the eye.  “I want to make another film like the one we did last year.”  He suddenly smiled and shrugged.  “Hell, it was the only thing I did that made any money at all!”

“Kind of dangerous to try the same sort of thing again...”

“We won’t.”  Malcolm’s smile grew.  “No cattle calls this time—I have something even better in mind.”  He pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket and handed it to Andy.  “Have a look at this.”

Andy took a sip of his coffee as he strode back to his desk.  He slipped the disk into his computer and opened the film inside.  “Hmm.”  The screen showed five young women, each dressed in a schoolgirl outfit with a mini-skirt and knee socks.  “Nice looking enough.”  He enlarged the image, checking the muscle tone of their bellies.  “Good bodies...”  He turned to Malcolm.  “Tell me about them.”

Malcolm leaned back in his chair.  “Have you heard of the San Diego Comic Con International?”

“Sure,” Andy nodded his head.  “Every summer—July or so, isn’t it?”

“It’s become huge for the film companies in the last couple of years—we set up big booths with displays, giveaways, all kind of things.”  He smiled and nodded at the screen.  “We also hire booth babes to run them.”

“Booth babes?”

“Actresses and Models who want to be seen—lots of opportunities there—all kinds of people go.”  He looked at Mike.  “They hope they’ll find some work.”

“But this time...”

“This time we’re going to give them the works.”  Malcolm’s smile widened.  “If you know what I mean.”

Andy leaned closer.  “Tell me more...”


Chapter 2


Andy had never been to ComicCon.  He was amazed at the sheer number of people in the building.  “There must be fifty thousand people here!”

Mike, walking along beside him, nodded in agreement.  “Maybe more—look at that line over there.  It wraps completely around this side of the building.”

“What are they waiting for?’

“Who knows?”  Mike grinned.  “I like some of the costumes, though.”

“Malcolm tells me that some of the girls used to wear nothing but body paint—but the people running this thing made it illegal.”

“Well, judging by some of these girls,” he gave ground as a rotund woman wearing a winged helmet and carrying a sword walked by.  “That was a very wise decision.”

“Yeah,” Andy smiled as two other hefty women passed by.  “I think I’d agree with that!”

“Where do we make the pickup?”

“Malcolm says that there’s a soundproofed booth at the studio set-up—they use it for interviews and the like.”  He pointed toward the centre of the room.  “Vilmos has a hidden camera there.”

“And Malcolm?”

Andy shrugged.  “He’ll meet us at the booth.”

“Okay,” Mike turned into the crowd.  “Let’s see what the set-up looks like.”


Lynette Bradley had been thrilled when she was told she was going to work a booth at this year’s ComicCon.  She’d come to the show several times—usually with a boy who was nuts about comics.

Lynette didn’t give a damn about comics—but she adored the movies—and manning the booth of a real-life studio had been a genuine thrill!

For the first day or so.

“My feet are killing me!”  Lynette slid her feet out of the four-inch stilettos that the boss had given her to wear.  “When will this be over?”

“Almost there, Lynn.”  Steff had manned the Sci-Fi Channel booth two years earlier.  She had played hostess to the stars of Warehouse 13 and Caprica.   This year—at this booth--she had hoped to meet some real stars—but that hadn’t happened.

“Just another couple of hours.”

“Look at those two.”  Jade, the third member of their team said, nodding toward two big men strolling by the booth.  “This is the third time they’ve walked by.”

“Yeah,” Lynette nodded.  “I’ve seen them a couple of times too.”  She wrapped her arms around herself.  “The dark-haired one gives me the creeps!”

“I know what you mean.”  Steff nodded.  “Lots of these guys stare at you as if they’re wondering what you’d look like without your clothes.  That one…”  She shook her head.  “He’s already stripped you and is figuring how much you’re worth!”

“Yeah,” Jade watched the two men walk down the next aisle.  “But at least they’re men—not boys with stupid costumes and t-shirts.”  She glanced in the direction they’d gone.  “Real men...”

“Just another couple of hours.”  Lynette echoed Steff’s words.  “Then we can get out of here.”  She pulled her shoes back on.  “And get rid of these damn heels!”


“You know,” Mike glanced around.  “I was wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are some pretty good-looking women here.”  Mike nodded toward a pair in ‘Slave Leia’ outfits.  “More than I thought at first.”

“You could take any one you wanted.”  Andy smiled.  “Easy as pie.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you were dressed like Tarzan or some Barbarian hero, you could pick one of them up, sling her over your shoulder, and walk out the door.”  Andy looked Mike in the eye.  “And everyone around you would laugh and cheer—the girl too, more than likely.”

“Yeah—I can see where that might work.”  Mike smiled.  “But not this trip, okay?”

“Okay.”  Andy smiled.  “We’ll bring a loincloth next year!”  He motioned to one side.  “Let’s check out that next aisle—then I think it’ll be time to go back to the booth and meet Malcolm.”  He glanced at his watch.  “Assuming that he’s close to being on time.”

“He’d better be.”  Mike shook his head as a four-hundred-pound Batman walked by.  “This place closes in less than thirty minutes.”

“Well then, we’ve still got twenty-five minutes to kill.”  Andy smiled.  “Care for a smoothie?”


Chapter 3



Lynette sighed in relief.  “Only ten more minutes.”  She looked at the other girls.  “What do we do then?”

“Someone from the company is supposed to meet us here at closing.”  Jade glanced at the rapidly emptying aisles.  “To sign our paperwork and give us our checks.”

“Do you suppose it would be someone that can, maybe, find us some work?”   April had just returned from break.   She was the senior girl here—her third outing as a ComicCon Booth Babe.  “A producer, maybe.  Or a Production assistant?”

“I doubt it.”  Steff shook her head.  “More than likely it’ll be some clerk...”

“You’re wrong!”  April pointed up the aisle.  “Look!”

“Look at what?”  Lynette didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

“That guy, walking toward us.”  April nodded to herself.  “That’s Malcolm Amos—the Producer.”

“Does he work for this company?”

“He sure does.”  April smoothed down the top of her costume, pulled up on the skirt to make it just a little bit shorter and licked her lips to make them shinier.  “And he’s about due to make another film.”

The other girls took their cue from April, taking a moment to fluff up their hair and pull their bodices a bit tighter trying to make themselves as attractive as a woman could be after twelve hours in a sweaty Convention Centre.

“Ladies.”  Malcolm smiled as he reached the booth and saw the results of their primping.  “I’m here to close things down and take care of all the final arrangements.”  He looked to the side; saw Andy and Mike walking his way.  “We also have a couple of men to help pack up anything that’s left.”  He nodded as the two slavers arrived.  “Inside, guys—I’ll get to you in a moment.”  He turned back to the girls.  “Now, ladies, if you’ll come in one at a time, I think we can get you taken care of in no time at all...”


Andy looked the little room over as he and Mike stepped inside.  “Not too much room.”  He opened the lid on one of the crates stored to one side.  “Guess we use these for the shipment.”

“Right.”  Mike ran a finger over the near wall.  “Soundproofing’s pretty thin—can’t let ‘em make too much noise.”

Andy pulled a large rubber ball-gag out of his pocket and smiled.  “We won’t.”


Malcolm entered the room with Steff, showing the girl to the tiny desk and seat that had been set up inside.  “Okay...Steff, is it?  It’s time to...”

Before he could finish the sentence, Mike had grabbed the girl from behind, pinning her arms to her side while Andy quickly stuffed a ball-gag into her mouth, smiling as she tried to scream.

“Mmppfff!”  The ball gag swallowed the sound, leaving nothing but a drone that would be far too faint to be heard outside. 


Mike glared at Malcolm, “Quiet!  We know what we’re doing!”   He forced the girl down onto her stomach, pinning her in place by driving his knee into the small of her back.

 Andy moved in and handcuffed her before tying her ankles together.  “That should hold her.”  He stepped to one side, opened up the lid on one of the crates.  “Bring her over here.”

Mike lifted the girl as if she were a toy, carrying her to the crate before dropping her in.  A strap inside went around her waist, another around her ankles, a final one around her throat—she couldn’t move, couldn’t kick on the sides of the crate—couldn’t do anything at all except look up at the men who had trapped her so neatly.

She was still trying to understand what had happened when the lid slammed shut.


Lynette waited as, one by one, the other girls were called into the tiny office.  Why do I have to be last, she asked herself, leaning back to keep her weight off her shoes.  Just ‘cause I’m the youngest...  She grimaced as a quick flash of pain ran up her leg.  I’ve gotta get these damn shoes off!  She reached down, started to unbuckle the show on her right foot...

“Ms. Bradley?”  Malcolm leaned out of the office.  “Can you come in now?”

Thank God!  Lynette nodded and headed for the doorway.  As soon as I’m done, she told herself.  These shoes come off!

The office was dimmer then she remembered.  They must have turned some of the lights off now that the show’s over.  She saw the two big men who had come in earlier tightening the lid on one of the big crates that had been stored inside, smiled idly at them.  I wonder where the other girls are, she asked herself.  I didn’t see them come out past me...

“Right over here, Ms. Bradley.”  Amos was standing behind the tiny desk at one side of the office space.  “If you please.”

Lynette nodded, took a long step toward the desk, barely noticing that one of the two men moved behind her, shutting the door.  “What do you need from me, Mr. Amos?”  She saw an odd smile quick across his face as...

What the hell!  One of the big men had come up behind her.  His arms were suddenly wrapped around her, pinning her own arms to her sides.  “What do you think...?”

The second man was in front of her, a red ball in his hands.  “Open wide,” he smiled, pushing the thing against her lips.

Faced with this impossible demand, Lynette panicked—and opened her mouth to scream...

The red ball was immediately pushed home, filling her mouth to bursting as it silenced any cries she might make.

What are they doing!  Lynette tried her best to fight back, twisting her arms in an attempt to get free—but the man behind her was too strong—had too much leverage.  

She felt the second man buckle something behind her head—and saw Mr. Amos sitting in front of her, smiling widely.  This can’t be happening!

Lynette Bradley had taken several courses in self-defence while in college.  As she began to recover from her panic, she remembered what she had been taught.  What do I do?  The words of an instructor came back to her.  Stomp on his foot—and when he lets go...

She suited action to word, stomping down hard with the sharp tip of her stiletto heel...

On nothing.

Damn!  She groaned as the tip of the heel snapped off on the hard concrete floor.  He moved so fast!  What do I do now...?

Even as the thought crossed her mind, the second man clicked a set of handcuffs on her, locking her wrists behind her.  She was manhandled around until she faced the big man who had caught her from behind.  He grinned into her face as his fist flashed forward...

Her world went red with pain.


Mike smiled as the last girl walked into the room.  He had noticed her outside—she was the youngest of the group and was clearly having trouble with her high-heels.  She’s just out of school, he told himself.  Probably full up with tricks on how to handle a rapist, his grin widened.  And spunky enough to try one of them.

He resolved to be careful.

When she stepped toward Malcolm, he took his place behind her and, on Andy’s signal, grabbed her, pinning her arms.  He saw Andy move into position, saw him shove the ball-gag into place just as she started to scream.  She’ll try something any second, he told himself.

It took longer than he expected—she was frozen with fright and shock as Andy pulled the handcuffs out.  Will she recover before we get them on?  Mike wondered.

She did--attempting to smash the tip of her heel into his instep.

A good idea, Mike thought.  But really badly executed!  She had telegraphed the move, stiffening her whole body as she worked up the courage to move her leg, giving Mike plenty of time to shift his own foot away.

He grinned as the tip of her high heel snapped on the floor.  Then turned her around to face him.

“Bad move, bitch.”  He smiled into her face as Andy clicked the handcuffs into place.  He saw the confusion on her face, the fear…

Then he punched her hard, right in the soft part of her stomach.

“Did you have to do that?”  Malcolm got up from the desk as the girl doubled over, fighting for breath.  “You might have done some damage!”

“Not a chance.”  Mike grabbed a handful of hair and yanked, pulling her upright, red-faced and gasping.  “She’s strong.”  He smiled.  “Even if she can’t walk in those heels.”  He turned to Andy.  “That last crate ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

“Good.”  He half-carried, half-dragged the girl to the last crate, dumping her in as she struggled for breath.  It was the work of a few seconds to buckle the straps that would hold her in place, then, just as some measure of intelligence came back into her eyes, he put the lid in place and tightened the screws that held it closed.

“There should be a motorized cart outside, ready to take these to the loading dock.”  Malcolm gestured to the doorway.  “You left the van out there, right?”

“Just like we planned.”  Andy strode past the producer, opened the door.  “Now let’s get loaded up and out of here before everyone else here starts to jam up the road!”

There was a cart parked just at the edge of the booth—one with a big enough bed to handle the crates.  Andy and Mike brought them out one by one, laying them on the flat surface with some care, stacking them one on top of the other. 

“I think we can do this in one trip.”  Mike measured the load, nodding.

“Just so nothing tips over.”  Andy agreed.

“You get the van; pull it up to the dock.”  Mike stepped into the seat at the front of the cart, turned the vehicles electric motor on.  “I’ll meet you there.”

“Right.”  Andy strode off, heading down the long aisle to the back of the building.

“You,” Mike turned to Malcolm.  “Get out of here—we’ll meet you at the rendezvous.”

Malcolm nodded, looked around nervously, and turned up the aisle, moving to the front of the building and the trolley outside.

Mike shook his head as the producer walked away.  He’s way too nervous.  He started the cart up, headed in the same direction that Andy had taken.  This is a snap!  The cart rolled down the long aisle.  Next time, maybe we’ll try it without the crates—just sling the girls over our backs and walk out...

He waved at the security guard standing at the entrance to the loading dock.  I don’t think anyone would even think of stopping us...

The guard waved back, smiling…