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You're greeted by Ashton Kutcher's buoyant, grinning face. At first, you're not sure what you should be shocked the most by - The fact that you're in the presence of such a huge celebrity, or the fact that you're in the presence of such a HUGE celebrity. Totally floored, all you can do is stare in wonder at the giant until he closes one of his clammy, smelly paws over your tiny body and raises you to his manly, unshaven face.
With his log-like fingers wrapped around your body so tight that your elbows jam into your ribs, all that sticks out of his big clenched fist is your head.
"Oh, boy.." He whispers, ogling the plaything in his grip. Past his blood-red lips, a wave of off-smelling breath, scented with nicotine and beef jerky, pours into your face.
Then he takes your body and rubs your young, soft face across the dark, thick stubble on his neck, up and down, satisfying an itch. The stubble feels like steel wool to your sensitive skin, and you squeal helplessly in pain. Ashton takes a moment to admire your red-raw face, his perfect white teeth glinting as he grins.
Then he speaks, though you can barely be sure it's to you. "You sure make a cute slave.. A strong one, too. You're just right." He murmurs, prying your legs apart to see how far they stretch. "My toys never last long.." You lie there, a passive object in the powerful man's cruel grip. 'Slave'? 'Last long'? You're not a product, or a possession! Although you're not sure how you got here, you have a terrible feeling you won't be leaving any time soon.
Ashton lifts one hairy wrist, checking the time on his Rolex. "Shoot.. Gotta get to the studio, filming's about to start! Better stash you away, pretty boy!"  | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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