It's been a very productive writing day for me. I hope it is OK to post this here as well (as the aforementioned Roundhouse story of yesterday).
I will say in advance, there is a line toward the end: "The audience exploded in laughter". Obviously, that isn't a literal description :) Correct any other mistakes as you see fit...
Wheel Of Misfortune
It was Ingrid's first appearance on Wheel Of Misfortune; a perverse variation of a game show broadcast live on the Internet. She nervously followed the program's stage manager as well as two other female contestants to stand on a brightly illuminated low riser in a corner of the film studio.
Ingrid clasped her hands together in front and glanced over at the main stage area. It was essentially a replica of the original program's set. A very large roulette wheel of sorts, elevated slightly on an angle for the cameras, that was festooned with multicolored panels denoting various prize amounts. These ranged from a single dollar up to one hundred, and there were also two silver sparkled ones emblazoned with the words 'Sir Prize'.
Behind the wheel stood three clear Perspex stocks in which each of the contestants would soon be locked. The top crossbar of these was about twelve inches high and contained in the center (directly above the hole for the contestant's head) a large red LED score panel. A technician stood to one side holding what looked like an oversized television remote. He pressed various buttons and caused each of the score panels to light up, and the wheel to spin.
A disembodied voice through the speakers above announced that the show would commence in ten minutes, and that the doors had just opened to let in the studio audience. Ingrid felt a sudden rush of dread as she watched a stream of thirty or so people move in and fill the small stand of tiered seating adjacent to the main stage.
"Listen up, slaves," a man approached the three contestants. "I'm just going to call you number one, you two, and you three. Remember that."
Ingrid noted her number as two.
"I'm Sir Dred and from now on, you must obey my instructions quickly and precisely. Failure to do so will result in, well, let's just say you'll be wise to do what I say. The show will be starting in a few minutes. When it does, Sir Prize will do his short viewer-welcome thing and then the cameras will switch to you. You can smile if you like, but we actually get better ratings if you look frightened. Is that clear?"
Ingrid felt as if her face was frozen with an expression of utter dread. She briefly glanced at the two women standing either side of her. To her left, a young girl probably not much older than twenty stood dressed, as they all been told to dress earlier in the day, in a strapless blue lycra one-piece swimsuit. The suit seemed to emphasize the athletic proportions of the young girl's body, just as Ingrid felt it emphasized the somewhat overly soft shapeliness of her own body.
The woman on Ingrid's right appeared to be in her late forties and had an air of confidence about her that seemed incongruous with both the surroundings and their situation. She noticed Ingrid glance at her and she returned a strange, enigmatic sort of grin. It occurred to Ingrid that they'd been arranged according to their ages, with her in the middle.
Again the speakers above burst to life with an announcement that the audience pay attention to an overhead monitor on which signs such as 'applause' and so on would be displayed to prompt them. As the voice spoke, a man dressed elegantly in a dinner suit strolled onto the main stage and stood in front of a television camera mounted on a tripod. A second cameraman approached the three contestants and stood ready. Sir Dred stood off to one side between the main stage and the audience and began the countdown to begin.
The audience suddenly erupted into a storm of applause, as prompted. A voice over announced 'Welcome to Wheel ... of ... Misfortune' and the entire studio audience chorused this. A brief theme tune played and then Sir Prize suddenly became animated and started speaking into the camera.
Ingrid was so desperately dreading everything that she couldn't concentrate on anything the man said. She was aware he eventually stopped speaking at the camera, and that he introduced Sir Dred and spoke briefly with the studio audience.
"And now, Sir Dred, who do we have playing tonight?" Sir Prize said.
A split-second later, camera two suddenly lit up with its little red activation light.
Ingrid felt suddenly startled, aware that she was now being seen by thousands of people online. She stared mutely into the camera and clenched her hands tightly together.
"Our first contestant is Jenny. She's nineteen, a part-time aerobics instructor and college student," Sir Dred read from notes on his clipboard. "She lives with her boyfriend, Peter..."
"Woo!" a solitary male voice in the audience make a quick cheering noise.
"Jenny is bi-sexual and she lists her interests as bondage, exhibitionism, serving as furniture, masturbation, and oral sex."
The audience cheered and clapped.
By this time Sir Prize had approached and now stood with between Ingrid and Jenny with his arm draped casually over Jenny's shoulder.
"Do you masturbate a lot?" Sir Prize asked casually.
"Yes!" Jenny replied.
Ingrid was astounded by the enthusiasm the girl showed. She also noticed Sir Prize reach down and begin rubbing Jenny's cunt through her swimsuit.
"So, if I was to get you all hot, you'd want me to finish you off?" he asked.
"Yes!" Jenny moaned loudly and immediately began gyrating her hips to grind her cunt into his hand.
"And it would be torture if I pushed you to the edge...and stopped?"
"Yes!" Jenny moaned again and then wailed her disappointment when Sir Prize moved onto to Ingrid.
He stood toe to toe with her for a moment, looked deep into her eyes, and grinned. "Are you nervous?" he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.
Ingrid nodded.
"Good," he said, and then moved onto the third woman. "Who have we got here, Sir Dred?"
"This is Sue. She's forty-two years old, divorced, a mother of three adult children and works as a medical receptionist. She lists her interests as..." Sir Dred glanced at the page on his clipboard and then turned to grin at the camera. "It says here she likes it all; the harder the better!"
"Is that a fact?" Sir Prize asked. He also looked at the camera and raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any limits?"
"No sir!" Sue replied with a military style of confidence.
"You know a statement like that on this show can get a person into a whole world of trouble?" Sir Prize pushed himself between Ingrid and Sue to speak closely to her.
"Yes sir!" Sue said seriously before breaking out into a Cheshire-type of grin.
The audience whooped and hollered.
"So, if I was to ask what a fat, ugly breading sow like you was doing on my show, you'd have no problem answering?"
"Sir, I'm here to win!" Sue replied.
The audience immediately broke into a chorus of laughter interspersed with pig noises and others barking like a dog. Sue, in response, laughed and pulled down the top of her swimsuit to flash her extremely large, sagging breasts at them.
"I see," Sir Prize chuckled. "And what about this one in the middle?"
Ingrid's skin tingled with a rash of goose bumps the moment Sir Prize draped his arm around her shoulder.
"Contestant number two is Ingrid. She's thirty-eight years old and works as a teacher at the Clayton-Moore Commercial College."
Ingrid felt a sudden jolt of shock as Sir Dred mentioned her actual place of employment.
"She lives alone with her two cats..."
The audience, encouraged by Sir Dred, collectively mocked Ingrid with a long, mournful 'awwww'.
"And she lists her interests as bondage and light discipline."
"Is that all?" Sir Prize asked.
"Yes," Ingrid mumbled.
"You know I don't believe you, don't you?"
Ingrid stomach knotted.
"Are you trying to tell me you don't like toys?" Sir Prize continued.
A rush of guilt manifested as a deep blush of embarrassment on Ingrid's face. "Sometimes," she replied.
"Or do you get all the real cock you need down at that bar off sixty-first street?"
Ingrid's knees suddenly went weak and for a moment, she thought she'd collapse.
"There's no secrets on this show!" Sir Prize laughed.
The studio audience suddenly started hooting and yelling 'yeah!' When Ingrid glanced up at the television monitor above, she saw it flickering with grainy hidden camera footage.
The images she saw horrified her. She remembered all too well when they must have been taken. Several years ago, she'd been invited to a Hen's Night at a male strip club. After drinking way too much alcohol, Ingrid had been persuaded by her friends to take a turn in the 'glory hole' cubicle at the back of the bar. She couldn't recall how long she spent in there but by the time she emerged, she had sucked and fucked more cocks than she had in her entire life. The shock realization that she'd been filmed almost overwhelmed her.
"It looks like you're taking it in the ass there," Sir Prize pointed at the screen and smiled.
Ingrid could only vaguely remember it, but a couple of times when she bent over to suck a cock that appeared through a hole in one side of the cubicle, another would emerge through the other wall. In her drunken, unbalanced state, it was her ass that got fucked instead of her cunt.
"Please turn it off," Ingrid whispered.
Sir Prize ignored her. "So, I think we should add glory holes, cock sucking, cum swallowing, and ass fucking to your list of interests!"
The audience exploded in laughter.
"Oh, and let's not forget humiliation," Sir Prize added. "That's why you're here, isn't it?"
"I'm here to try and win the money," Ingrid replied honestly in a soft-spoken voice.
"Sure you are!" Sir Prize laughed. "OK Sir Dred; time to tell us who our contestants are playing for!"
With that, the camera swung around to film the audience as six names were called out. Sir Prize strolled across to the main stage and, one by one, the excited winners came running down from their seats to take possession of their respective contestants.
To be continued...
