Xth Dimension

This Story or any other story posted in this directory is 
readily available anywhere throuout the internet.I have chosen
not to claim any of them as my personal work.As I start to write 
stories,they will be posted in this directory.

Note:Xth Dimension is my trademark.though not recognized,this
trademark will be thoroughly defended as seen fit by myself.

                  The Redemption Ball
                        Part I

     "I know I was wrong, but you know I can't afford to pay off
the judgment.  What can I do to make amends and work again?"
     "Chrissy, no one in town is willing to take a chance with
you again.  NO ONE! You're a fine actress--a GREAT actress.  But
you're simply too big a pain in the ass."
     Mel Iberson was sitting across the huge office desk from
Chrissandra Melrose, known in the business as "Chrissy," one of
the biggest stars in Hollywood.  A stunning blonde, she was
another Marilyn, but about twenty pounds lighter and with assets
like you wouldn't believe.  She had been the brightest star on
the Hollywood sky, with seven roles to her credit, two of them
resulting in academy nominations.  In the earlier days of her
career, she and Iberson had had a brief tryst, but it ended
quickly as she moved up the ladder of stardom, and no longer felt
she needed Iberson's casting couch.  She soon revealed her true
colors.  She was a consummate tease, and a real bitch, spelled in
all capital letters.  The string of "perks" in her contracts was
growing exponentially, and her unpredictable behavior added up to
millions in cost overruns on every picture she had made.  Her
last picture was with Iberson's studio.  Halfway through the
shooting, Iberson and his studio had had enough.  He sued--and
won fifty million dollars in damages from her.  Both her career
and finances were ruined.  No producer in Hollywood would give
her another chance.  She was simply too risky and, for the
moment, was also a laughing stock.  Now she was sitting in
Iberson's office with her attorney, Jason Roberts, in an attempt
to make amends.  Iberson wasn't buying.  
     Her attitude was visible in what she wore.  Iberson could
not help but notice that she wore a white cashmere sweater and no
bra.  Her magnificent breasts filled the sweater nicely,
separating the knitted threads just enough to get a hint of pink
flesh and rosy nipples.  Her skirt was about six inches below her
pussy, which Iberson knew was as blonde as the hair on her head. 
She made no attempt to pull her skirt down as she sat, but her
legs were kept respectfully--no--denyingly--crossed.
     "There must be SOMETHING I can do to change things!" Chrissy
wailed.  
     "You're too much of a control freak," said Iberson.  "Until
you convince everyone that you can work within the bounds set by
the producer and director, and until you convince everyone that
you have some respect for others, you won't get a job.  And,
incidentally, you owe me fifty million dollars."
     "I can't pay.  What do I do?"  Chrissy held her head in her
hands, truly sobbing.
     Mel looked at Chrissy's attorney.  They looked at one
another knowingly, and Roberts winked at Iberson.  
     Mel, what about that new project I heard you were working
on?" said Roberts, slyly.
     Chrissy looked up.  "What new project?  What is it?"
     "It wouldn't be right for Chrissy," said Iberson.  "It would
require her to do everything she won't do."
     "Like what?" asked Chrissy, almost pleadingly.
     "Well, it's a movie version of all three of the "Beauty"
stories by Anne Rice. It is about what happens after the prince
awakens Sleeping Beauty.  Sort of a sequel to the fairy tale."
     "It sounds great!" said Chrissy, exuberantly.  What would I
have to do to star in it?!" she asked.
     "I don't think you understand, Chrissy.  The heroine is made
a sex slave by her new husband.  She is led bound and naked
through the countryside, is screwed by more men than just her
husband, is publicly punished, and has to endure a host of
other indignities.  It isn't your kind of movie."
     "You're absolutely right!" said Chrissy, indignantly.  She
quickly was reverting to her old attitudes.  You know I don't do
nude scenes!  And to be nude and bound--WELL--You're right.  It
just isn't my kind of film!"
     "Then I guess you and I have nothing further to discuss,
Chrissy," said Iberson, rising from his chair and offering his
hand in a farewell gesture.
     There was a long silence in the room.  Nobody said a word. 
Both Roberts and Iberson stared at Chrissy.  She quickly realized
what she had done.  
     "I did it again, didn't I?"  Chrissy finally said. 
     "Yep, you did," said Iberson.  "I know it isn't your kind of
film, Chrissy.  But, on the other hand, if you did it, and did it
well, what better proof could you have that you had changed?"
     "OK, I'll give it a try," said Chrissy.
     "Not good enough, Chrissy.  You have to decide now whether
you are committed to do this or not.  We already have five
actresses who are excited about the part, and we are weeding the
list tomorrow.  But if you pass the audition and still want it,
it's yours."
     "What audition?"
     "Well, we'll need some evidence that you're serious."
     "What evidence!?  I've told you I'll do it.  Isn't that
enough?"
     "No, frankly, it isn't.  Before I invest millions in you
again, I need to know you won't back out a week into the
shooting."
     "What do you want me to do?" she asked.  Her hands were
clasped in her lap, her knees together, and her head was down. 
Iberson had never seen her so submissive before.  He and Roberts
winked at each other again.
     "Every year there is an underground party given by most of
the Hollywood producers and their guests.  Identities are
disguised so the guest of honor cannot recognize anyone in
particular.  At this party, the wayward star is a guest of honor.
The star is given the opportunity to repent, and be re-admitted
back into the fold.  The star's punishment is appropriate to the
offense he or she has committed on the Hollywood establishment. 
I am in charge of the selection of the guest of honor this year. 
We never have a shortage of potential candidates for the guest of
honor role, but I believe everyone would be most interested in
seeing you receive the honor this year. In order to get this
part, you must agree to be the guest of honor and be punished in
front of the other producers and their guests.  We call it The
Redemption Ball."  
     "Just what will that entail?" Chrissy asked, still meek.
     "Well, I won't tell you everything, but I will tell you
this.  The part which you want requires public nudity, bondage,
and punishment.  You may consider this party the audition for 
the part.  You will be picked up by my limousine and
taken to the site of the party.  You will be presented to the
assemblage for your punishment.  Everyone producer in Hollywood,
and a few other people, will see how beautiful you truly are. 
Before the night is over, they will also see how wonderful your
acting truly is--except you won't really be acting.  You will be
punished and tormented.  It will be a true test of your new
image, and whether you can do this part or not."
     "I'll just ask you straight out.  Will I be naked?"
     "That is up to you.  No one will touch you where you are
covered.  Whether or not you are naked will be up to you."
     "Will I be bound?"
     "Yes, and occasionally gagged and blindfolded.  It is
intended to be both an audition and a punishment.  You may find
that you enjoy it, but that is really not the purpose of the
audition."
     "Will there be sex?"
     "I don't know what you mean Chrissy.  Ask me directly what
you want to know."
     Chrissy looked up, straight into Mel Iberson's eyes.  "Will
I be tied up and fucked in front of everybody?"
     "First, that would require nudity, and I've already told you
that that is largely your decision.  However, would how
specifically I answered that make a difference in your decision,
Chrissy?" asked Iberson.
     "I-I guess n-not," said Chrissy, her eyes again reverting to
their gaze at her lap.  She never got an answer to the question. 
Then she looked at Roberts and asked, "Is this legal?"
     "No, but who's going to file a complaint?  Who can prove any
of this?  Are you being forced to comply with a condition?  If
any of this gets out, will your debt no longer be owed?  Will you
be able to work again by exposing every producer in Hollywood in
this redemption ceremony?  Think about it, Chrissy.  You've been
given a real opportunity here, unorthodox as it may be."
     "I-I guess there is no other choice.  I'll do it."     
     "Good," said Iberson.  "The party will be two weeks from
tonight.  My driver will pick you up in my limousine at 7:00 p.m.
sharp.  You will wear nothing during the day that day.  When you
dress for the party, you will wear only what you receive from me
the day before.  Bring everything with you that you receive,
including the case containing the clothing.  Any questions?"
asked Iberson.
     "No, I guess not," said Chrissy, her eyes still diverted
downward.  "I'll be there."
     The day before the two weeks was up, a plain black suitcase
arrived at Chrissy's home delivered by Iberson's driver.  On
opening the suitcase, Chrissy found a simple sleeveless black
dress and a pair of black pumps with 3" heels. In addition was a
black blindfold, a black ball gag, a pair of black fur-lined
handcuffs and key, a black leather collar, and a leash.  The
collar had a ring attached in both front and back.  Chrissy 
couldn't figure out the reason for the rear ring. 
The front was obviously for the leash.  The dress was cut on an
A-line motif, which meant that it would fit loosely.  The wide
shoulder straps snapped to the front of the bodice, and a zipper
ran the entire length of the front of the dress.  There was also
an ominous-looking douche and enema included.  The instructions
accompanying the dress read as follows:

          'Don't forget, Chrissy.  Tomorrow, you are to wear 
     nothing all day.  We don't want any red lines or clothing  
     marks on your body.  You may put on the dress and heels no 
     earlier than 6:30 tomorrow night.  Make sure your evening 
     toilette routine is completed before then, including the use
     of the accompanying douche and enema bottles.  Empty the 
     suitcase on the bed.  Open the handcuffs and place the key 
     in the empty suitcase.  Place the empty suitcase next to the
     door and leave the door unlocked.  Return to the bedroom and
     put on the dress and heels.  After putting on the dress, put on the 
     collar and attach the leash to the front of the collar.  
     Unlock the handcuffs and place the open handcuffs in your lap.  
     Put the key in the suitcase, and put on the gag and 
     blindfold in that order.  Finally, handcuff your hands 
     behind your back and wait for the driver to arrive to take 
     you to the Ball.  I want you to get the feel of the role 
     early.'

     Chrissy took out the dress and hung it in the closet.  She
placed the suitcase in the closet until tomorrow, and headed for
the wine.  She needed a drink.
     The following day, Chrissy stayed in the house, nude, and
more than a bit apprehensive.  Most of her day was filled with
the usual second-thoughts about what she was about to do.  Try as
she might, she could think of no alternatives to going through
with Iberson's demands.
     At 6:00 p.m., Chrissy used the douche and enema, showered,
and put on her usual make-up.  A little after 6:30, she emptied
the contents of the suitcase on the bed and placed the empty
suitcase next to the front door, unlocking the door just before
returning to the bedroom.  First, she donned the dress.  It was
short, VERY short, just barely covering the cheeks of her ass. 
The heels made her appear even more risque.  She sighed, and put
on the collar, attaching the leash to the front.  Next, she put
the handcuffs in her lap, making sure they were opened wide, and
she put on the gag.  She put the key in the suitcase.  The 
blindfold was next.  The last item was the handcuffs. She 
knew that if they went on, there would be no
recourse.  She snapped the cuff shut on one wrist.  Placing her
hands behind her back, she sighed, and felt the cuff tighten as
it snapped on her other wrist.  Now she knew true helplessness. 
She could only sit and wait in darkness for the driver to take
her to her fate.
     It wasn't long before she heard the front door open.  She
stiffened.  Then she heard soft footsteps across the carpet in
the bedroom.
     "Ms. Melrose, I presume.  Come with me, madam."  Chrissy
felt a gentle tug on her leash.  She arose and followed the
voice, presumably that of the chauffeur.  She was more than a
little embarrassed to be "handled" by a stranger dressed as she
was.  Blindfolded, she couldn't tell if the skirt was covering
her pussy and ass or not.  But regardless, she could do little
about it.  Likewise, she couldn't tell if anyone saw her being
placed into the back seat of the car.  The ride was rather long,
and the leather seats were cold against her bare ass.  Chrissy
couldn't tell if the windows were tinted or not.  She had no
choice but to let people look if she was visible.  The
possibility of being seen in such a predicament would be little
embarrassment compared with what she knew she would experience
before the night was over!!  Finally, the limo pulled into a
driveway and stopped.  Chrissy was led into a house.  When the
blindfold was finally removed, she found herself in an ornate
bedroom in front of Mel Iberson and a maid.  She was still gagged
and bound.
     "Good evening, Chrissy," said Iberson.  "I assume you had a
pleasant journey.  You have followed my instructions perfectly,
or so it would seem.  But we must now make sure.  Janie, please
remove Ms. Iberson's dress."

---------------Continued in Part II

