Celebs: Emma Watson
Codes: MF, nc, rape, viol, oral, anal, mDom
Disclaimer: It goes without saying that, barring some creative extrapolation of multiverse theory, this is a work of fiction. Yes, I’ve used real life events as a set-up for this, but to the best of my knowledge, this character isn’t really a stand-in for anyone who worked at Sony, nor is anything that depicted here meant to be a reflection on the real life Emma Stone (who really, I would not wish something like this on).
Harris looked at the clock again as he mentally ticked off the last of the arrangements.
Video camera. Digital camera. Restraints. Gun.
He stopped mentally reviewing as he came to this last one – checked it again to make sure it was all ready as well. Wouldn’t do to get this far and fuck things up because he hadn’t turned the safety off or anything stupid like that.
The delivery would be here soon, and he wanted to make sure everything was ready. This had cost him a lot of time and a lot of favors, and once it was over, he would have to put his life as he knew it behind him, but right about now, he was willing to chance that.
So long as that kid felt it, Harris could live with going back to being a nobody, albeit a rich one.
Of course, he had already been kind of on his way there before tonight, but that was part of what this was all about.
Fucking Amazing fucking Spider-Man.
Harris suppressed a bitter laugh remembering it all now. He had been one of the biggest proponents of the idea, and had done a lot of campaigning around the offices to make it happen. A lot of people were skeptical, but Harris looked and saw their potential to rival the Marvel Cinematic Universe if they played it right.
Then Amazing Spider-Man 2 happened.
That would have been bad enough. Harris had backed misses before and survived them. What really stung him here was the fact that Andrew Garfield, their new Peter Parker, then went to the press and washed his hands of the whole thing as a bad idea.
“You pocketed the cash for two movies and now you get second thoughts, you Limey fuck?” he remembered he had muttered at the screen when he first heard the news.
More than anything else about the debacle, that was what stung him. Taking the hit at the offices was bad. Seeing what was supposed to be his big break go up in flames was bad. Seeing the studio go hat in hand to sign a deal with Marvel – their Goddamn competition – was a burn he had to drink off, but he could live with.
But having one of their leads go to the press and throw them under the bus. Even in the corporate world, Harris had seldom had to endure such a bald-faced, skin-saving betrayal as that.
And he was going to make sure the Oscar nominee paid for it. Even if he never knew it was him specifically – to Harris’s memory, the two had never met one to one, even after his friends had to talk him out of punching the kid out over that announcement – he was going to make sure he suffered for having said it.
And now, having much expended money and clout later, it was all going to pay off. Once he’d confirmed it was doable, he had been planning this out and replaying and revising in his head almost continuously to this point. For as many times as this had played in his head, it was going to be strange to make it happen in reality.
The sound of the buzzer took him out of his head – shit, that went fast – and he made one last sweep of everything before moving to the door. Composing himself, he pressed the intercom.
“Package for you.”
He let out a small sigh of relief, recognizing the voice of one of the men he had hired for this part of the plan. Naturally, a standard invitation wouldn’t work under these circumstances. This required something more…persuasive.
“You weren’t followed?”
“Thought we might be tailed at one point, but we lost ‘em.”
“You’re absolutely sure of that?”
“Fuck man, we were a good extra hour just making sure there was no one!”
“Fine. Bring it in.”
Opening the door, Harris watched as the source of the voice as well as two other men – not complete scum, but you could tell they were no strangers to illegal activity – came in. The other two carried something in in what looked to be a body bag.
“Go set it up in the other room. You’ll know which one.”
As they went to drop the package off, the third man turned to Harris.
“So, about our payment.”
“You’ll get what we agreed on.”
“Considering the risk factor here, and the fact we DID almost get caught, I was thinking maybe that could be negotiated.”
Harris was about to reply – this was NOT the time for that sort of negotiating, but the other two returned then.
“Looks like you’ve got a Hell of a party set up in there!” one of the other two said as they came back, the empty bag over the other man’s shoulder.
“What the Hell are you planning?” the other guy asked, his tone more curious than concerned.
“For an extra million each, it’s none of your Goddamn business!”
That should shut them up, he thought to himself as the three all did doubletakes over the increase.
It wouldn’t make much difference soon anyway, but for now, he couldn’t chance outside involvement.
After several clumsy thank yous, he finally got the three paid off.
Now it was just the two of them.
The party could begin.
Heading into the other room, Harris was pleased by the sight before him: still dazed from the no doubt rough handling getting here, popular actress Emma Stone was trying to at least get to her knees and failing at it. With pull ties on her wrists and ankles and her hands behind her, she was struggling for what balance she could manage in her frightened state.
Watching her struggle, Harris reflected to himself – even with her lip split and signs she had clearly been crying, she was still beautiful.
“Just a shame about your taste in men,” he spoke up, getting her attention, “anyone else and you’d probably be safe at home right now.”
Responding to his voice, the redhead looked up at him, her eyes pleading – and in her case putting on a Hell of a show.
“But you picked Andrew, so here you are.”
As he said this, he reached down to help lift the terrified girl to her feet. From the look on her face, she almost seemed to read this act as kindness.
Let’s see how long that lasts, he thought, taking a step back to watch her.
“I want to make one thing clear to you before this goes any further – while I mean it when I say this isn’t anything personal, that doesn’t mean I am your friend. Never forget that, because I plan to make sure you don’t.”
Having said this, he leaned in and began to remove her gag. The grateful whimpers were unexpected, but a nice touch as he finally freed her mouth.
Emma looked up nervously.
Poor kid’s forgot already, Harris thought to himself, better remind her.
“Thanks? I think you can do better than that.”
“What…what are you–?”
“Open your mouth.”
“Are you fucking deaf?” Harris yelled, louder, a part of him enjoying watching Emma cringe as he did so, “open your fucking mouth!”
Without another word, Harris pulled the gun. The sight alone caused Emma to fall over herself trying to get away. Wanting to capitalize on this fear, he aimed a shot at the wall behind the actress and fired.
In the aftermath, he watched her desperately trying to move. He had at least had the chance to have earplugs in. He imagined her ears must be ringing right now as he walked over and yanked her, this time by her hair, to her knees.
“You still think I’m fucking around?” he shouted to her face, making sure she could see his mouth movements, so even if her hearing was effected, she could understand him.
Now sobbing and terrified, Emma shook her head no.
“Then open that fucking mouth now or I’ll pry it open myself!”
The threat had its desired effect. Even amid her tears and sniffling, Emma opened her mouth.
Not bad, he thought to himself, now to see if it lasts.
Taking a step away from the terrified girl, Harris started undoing his pants. The fear in Emma’s eyes took on a new light as it became clear to her that her captor intended to do exactly what she was afraid he would. He could almost detect a ‘no!’ forming before her eyes went back to the gun.
To her credit, she remained in place. This, along with everything else so far had left Harris hard as a rock.
“The career you’ve had so far, I think we both know you know what to do here.”
He hadn’t actually heard any casting couch rumors about Emma – more’s the pity that – but he didn’t doubt she’d probably gone down on someone by now. If not an exec, then probably her shitheel of a boyfriend.
Without giving her a chance to adapt, he grabbed her hair and started to force – no, to straight up fuck her mouth. If this were just being done for enjoyment, he would likely consider this to be a shitty blowjob. But right about now, as an act of revenge, this was easily in the top five for him. Especially for the video camera capturing this. All to give Andrew a little present when he got to see someone raping his girlfriend’s face.
Of course, that was just the previews, he reflected to himself, hearing Emma gag as he now fucked her throat. More to the point, he wasn’t going to get off just yet. Sadly for her, Emma wasn’t going to be so lucky as that.
After a few more hard thrusts – during which he enjoyed watching the pretty starlet’s face become a mess of tears, snot, and spittle, he decided to move things forward again. Yanking her sharply by the hair, he tossed Emma back to the floor of the room. Where she had been working, his cock was now slick with her saliva. Looking over at his captive, Harris felt a sense of accomplishment watching her try not to vomit.
“Hey, don’t go punching out just yet,” he smiled, his first since starting, and one that would have made Emma even more afraid if that was possible, could she hear it over the sounds of her own coughing “we’re just getting started.”
Leaving the actress for a moment, Harris walked over to his section of gear. With a sick rush of satisfaction, he picked an X-cross mounted on wheels and began to roll it back towards his captive.
A part of him was disturbingly pleased as he saw it looked as though she had thrown up something amid her gagging. Again, were this purely for sex, that would be disgusting, but right now, it was just what he wanted out of this – it was shame. It was debasement. It was leaving her miserable for Andrew to see.
That was the thought that went through his head as he snapped a few pictures of her sobbing and coughing on the floor.
“Now, for this next part,” he smiled as he loomed over her, “I’m going to need you to hold VERY still.”
Emma never even got the chance to ask why before she saw the knife in his hand. A fresh round of tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head. Her mouth moved in silent pleas for her life, but no words came out.
Harris was tempted to see how long he could have her believing he was going to murder her – a sight that must look downright ridiculous with his dick out – but the fact was, time was a factor.
Banking on the fact she was borderline petrified with terror, he moved as quickly as he would dare. In under a minute, the ties holding Emma’s arms and legs were cut and on the floor.
A look of surprise was on her face as she realized what was happening. Relief as well, but that changed as she felt herself being dragged up to her feet. With a hard thud, she felt the X-cross slam into her back and Harris was strapping her in before she could even think about trying to escape.
Not that that stopped her from trying. He just let her wear herself out for a few minutes, enjoying the idea of leaving her struggle in vain as part of the tape for the love of her life to see.
But, he thought to himself, let’s make it a bit more interesting.
Seeing the knife come out of again, Emma was now panicking in her restraints. As a result, this next step took a bit longer than cutting her ties did. Several minutes were lost from having to take time to yell threats, and in one case deliver a slap that made her lip start bleeding again, but by the time he was done, Harris stepped back to appreciate his handiwork.
The clothes Emma had been brought in were now shreds on the floor at the base of the cross. He had initially hoped to be neater with it, but as it went on, the cuts just got messier.
“I fucking told you to stand still,” he informed her, in this light almost a taunt, “this is as much on you as it is on me.”
Emma had no retort. She simply hung her head in shame, tears running down her face as her hair partially covered her breasts. A mild saving grace for the fact her trimmed blond bush – redhead, huh? – was prominently displayed for pictures and video to see.
Well, we’ll just have to fix that, he mused to himself with a grin as he walked to the side of the cross.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” he finally told her out loud, “hey, how about smile, huh?”
Grabbing her by the hair again, he pulled the girl’s head up. He knew no smile was coming, but that wasn’t what he wanted anyway. Just getting her face clearly in the shot here would be enough. A further twist of the knife for when Andrew got to watching this – seeing his girlfriend humiliated like this.
Just for him to suffer through. As tempting as it was to turn this over to the press, Harris meant it when he said this was nothing personal towards Emma. Besides, if it went public, he could gain sympathy from it and get the chance to look like the bigger man for not spurning his girl during such a crisis. Instead, he would now have to suffer in silence whenever Harris decided to send him another installment.
“No smile, huh?”
Emma continued to sob and choke to herself, staring straight ahead as Harris held her head up.
“Well then, let’s move on!”
Letting her head slump back forward, he went to her restraints. Undoing the legs first, he was pleased to see she didn’t try to kick. A part of him was almost disappointed how quickly she was crumbling, but a part of him was also pleased this was moving along. As the arm restraints were removed, Emma dropped limply to the floor.
Before she could even muster the strength to get up, he was on her. Grabbing her by the back of her neck, he lifted her face to look her in the eye again.
“Now, you’re going to open your mouth again, and for your own sake, I suggest you make this one count!”
Her mouth was only half open when he was half down her throat this time. He heard a partial scream cut off by his dick as he resumed viciously raping her mouth. It took a lot of self-discipline to remember the plan and not just cum down her throat right here.
Yanking her off again, he was pleased at how effective this round was – his dick was dripping with her spit, some of which was trailing off with thin strings of saliva.
“Not bad,” he smiled, “good job getting it nice and wet, cause it will make this hurt a little less.”
This time, Emma finally got out a ‘No!’, but it didn’t do her much good before Harris had flipped her onto her stomach and was holding her down.
She fought now. To her credit, she fought damn hard.
At least at first. Once his cock penetrated her ass, Emma’s fight vanished in a sharp scream of pain.
He probably never got to fuck her here, Harris reflected with a bitter smile as he pumped in and out of her, enjoy watching this, you bastard! I got here first!
Emma’s screams soon devolved into loud, ugly, racking sobs as he ripped her anal virginity away from her.
She’s tight, he reflected to himself, even if I weren’t doing this to spite her boyfriend it’d be worth it.
It only took him a few minutes of thrusting, during which the only sounds were his groans and Emma’s crying, when he felt it.
Shit! he thought to himself, already?
He had to move fast. He had gotten this far and he couldn’t afford to let this last part go awry. He didn’t even process the fresh scream from Emma as he roughly pulled out of her, leaving a bawling mess as she tried to shield her bleeding anus.
Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t what he had in mind.
In what was the closest thing he was willing to give to courtesies, Harris didn’t ask Emma to clean her own blood and shit off his cock. Wiping that off himself, he moved as quickly as he dared to the final stage.
Without a word, he grabbed her leg and flipped her onto her back.
“Please,” she sobbed, “No more…I promise…whatever you want…”
“What I want isn’t yours to give,” he answered, “but it’s almost over. I promise.”
It was pretty telling of her mental state that Emma didn’t try to run. She didn’t calm down, but she also just lay there crying.
He let her have a minute before moving on. Of course, once he started fucking her cunt – which, no surprise, was not particularly wet from this – the fresh sobbing started again.
Not as tight as her ass, he reflected, but still pretty fucking tight. Suits my plans just fine.
Feeling the moment approach, Harris started pumping harder and faster. Even though she wasn’t struggling, he held Emma down.
“No,” she half choked, half sobbed as she realized what was coming, “not inside me. Please. I’m on the off-week right now! I could get–”
That’s the idea! Harris thought to himself as with a low growl he came. Hard. Very hard. He honestly couldn’t tell if Emma’s new round of crying was the shame at the possibility of carrying her rapist’s child, or actual physical discomfort from how hard he was cumming into her. Frankly, he didn’t care. With this, his revenge was now set. Even if she didn’t keep it, there was no undoing that damage.
He stayed in her for a few minutes after, just to be sure, Emma crying the entire time.
On finally withdrawing, Harris stepped back to snap some pictures of the poor girl bawling on his floor. Ending with the piece de resistance – one he had to threaten Emma to keep her from sabotaging the shot – some of his cum oozing out of her snatch.
As he removed the gear from the room, he left Emma in a fetal position, crying more of those loud ugly sobs he had gotten used to since this started.
It was a better part of an hour before he finally came back. It wouldn’t rightly be fair to say Emma had stopped crying. Rather she was just too exhausted to cry. Or do much of anything, for that matter. She barely reacted when Harris threw an overcoat on top of her. Instead, he had to wrap it around her and guide her to his car himself.
The drive itself was quiet. The closest there was to a conversation was the occasional weak “Please…” from Emma, and even then her thought as to what that meant never got anywhere.
Finally, to her surprise, Harris pulled up to the place she’d been staying. He was impressed – the hired guys did their job well enough – there was no police, no scene, no questions.
Which was probably just as good for her as it was for him. That might be too much right now.
“You won’t see me again,” he told her, “but anything I send you, you make sure he sees.”
Eyes still tearing a bit, she nodded slowly. She didn’t have to ask who he meant.
“I find out you haven’t, then I might break that promise and visit after all. Now get out.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. He watched her stumble and fall out of the car, then stumble barefoot into the hotel room. Probably to shower and cry herself to sleep.
A part of him wanted to feel bad for her. Another part wanted to take the opportunity to bask in the revenge that was about to unfold.
Another part of him knew that right now, he didn’t have the time for either. Once she was inside, he was driving off into the night.
Six months later
There was a lot of confusion in the press when it was announced that Andrew and Emma were splitting. The word at the time was anything from their work going in different directions to just an amicable split.
But looking at the articles, Harris could barely suppress a smile. Seeing the uncomfortable looks on the actor’s face, he could tell Emma had kept her word. Watching this unfold was one of the joys of his new life as a wealthy expatriate.
Well, that and the lack of extradition treaties.