Punishment House by Reese Gabriel
Kiri Renfrew is a sexy young blonde looking to take Hollywood by storm. What she finds is the cold reality of a seamy city interested only in exploiting her ripe young body. From humiliating auditions on her knees to naked exhibitions of her charms, Kiri soon loses hope in her star potential. Along comes a top producer, Sergio Corelli who offers her a starring role in a new reality TV show called "PH." She jumps at the chance, not realizing that PH stands for Punishment House. As the leading lady, she is to be the primary victim of a raft of cruel tortures and performances of forced sex imposed by various guest stars. Before an audience of millions, she is whipped and beaten like an animal, has group sex and is forced to submit to the indignities of caging and machine possession by which electrodes in her brain keep her forever on the brink of pleasure and pain. The show proves a bust and Kiri is thrown out on the street. A cruel pimp is more than willing to make use of her, forcing her to turn ten-dollar tricks while treating her as his virtual submissive. But all is not as it seems when Kiri's sexual past comes back to haunt her. Has she really escaped Corelli's grasp? Who's in control? Can she escape this strange prison that holds her captive?
Right to the last sentence, the reader will be kept guessing as he follows the delicious, sexy tale of this irrepressible blonde beauty and her nightmare in the diabolical world of Punishment House. Contains whipping, forced sex, caging, humiliation, psychological domination, female submissive training, auctions and corporal punishment.
“Tick, tock, doll.”
“I’m sorry,” Kiri smiled, trying not to anger them anymore than she already had. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
The man was looking at her like she’d just fallen off a produce truck. “The shirt, girl, for crissakes. Lose it and show us the tits.”
Kiri’s mouth went dry. She brushed back her damp blonde curls with numb, brightly painted fingertips while half a dozen emotions competed for dominance. She wanted to cry, yell, wipe off all the makeup, pull out the obnoxious hoop earrings and run like hell, all at once. “But I was told this was a legitimate video. I don’t do porn. I told that to Mr. Cherulean and he assured me this was all above board. I’m a legitimate actress.”
The moon-face looked at the cigar-smoker, who was rolling his bug eyes. The man’s expression reminded Kiri of a pug dog. “Those old labels don’t apply anymore, sweetheart. It’s all entertainment nowadays,” the pug explained. “You do keep your pussy shaved, right?”
Kiri shook her head, taking a step back. “I’m sorry. I should leave.”
Her response brought the young man in the gold chains to life. “No freakin’ way!” he roared, slamming his palm on the table.
In panic, Kiri jumped back, because up to now the man hadn’t even seemed to be in the same dimension as the rest of them.
“This is whacked,” he was saying in an accent that sounded Black. “Why you givin’ me these stuck up li’l bitches to work with, Anton?”
Moon face put his stubby, jewel-covered hand on the arm of the one whom Kiri had just now recognized as a famous rap star. He was reportedly about her age, a wanna-be ghetto kid with a reputation for being spoiled and difficult.
“Take it easy, T. We’ve got this under control. I’m sure little Miss…” Anton paused to shuffle at the scattered papers in front of him, a number of which had coffee stains and cigarette burns on them. “Aw hell,” he muttered, unable to find the information he was looking for. “Whatever the girl’s name is, I’m sure she’ll play ball. Right, bitch?”
Kiri’s heart was pounding in her chest. It was as if the man was talking out of a wind tunnel. “I have never been so insulted,” she replied, not sure where she was pulling the words from, “and I think you both owe me an apology, right now.”
The rap star shoved himself to his feet, pushing the table forward a half a foot in the process. “Here’s your apology,” he menaced, grabbing at his crotch. “I got it right here, you little ho!”
“T-Time, for God’s sake, calm down,” pleaded Anton as the two guards ran from the door to restrain the gangly singer.
“Tell her to calm down,” T growled, pointing at Kiri, his torso well restrained by a wall of silk-suited flesh. “In fact, you tell her to calm down over here and lick my dick. Do it, slut! Crawl on your hands and knees! Do you know who I am? I can buy you, bitch! I can make you my fucking property!”
“Jesus, T!” This from the pug-face with the cigar, his stogie now a hopeless mush under the scuffling feet. “You want another law suit?”
“Come on,” said a voice in Kiri’s ear. “Let’s get you out of here.”