Story: The Price of Stardom

 THE PRICE OF STARDOM

By Tcheser

“You know I have something here that would look just absolutely so sexy on you.” The man who claimed to be Sandra’s biggest fan told her. Ever since picking her up after her performance at the hotel club downstairs he had been laying it on as thick as honey. Sandra was a sucker for compliments though. Always had been.

“Let me get this straight lover-boy. You want me to wear something really sexy?” the sensuous young blonde singer asked the tall dark and handsome man. “What I’m wearing isn’t sexy enough for you?” She asked teasingly as she leaned forward towards the man sitting next to her exposing her breasts even more so in her tight low cut black dress.

“Oh, you look ravishing, my dear Sandra” The man replied quickly. “It’s just I think the outfit I have in the other room will showcase your beauty even more magnificently then your fine dress. I bought it just for you.”

“Well, if you insist” Sandra smiled and drained the last of her third glass of expensive champagne and began to stand to go change into the outfit. She loved receiving presents and often required lavish gifts of her beaus. She deserved it. She was no common girl after all. As a vocalist she always received top billing, had her own dressing room and called all the shots when it came to her performance. She was also in her sensual prime and although rather petite she had a nice figure, soft blemish free skin, a beautiful face and if she did say so herself a charming personality. She was glad she had fired that busybody manager her parents had hired back when she first started. She didn’t need a chaperone and now free of the annoying mother hen Sandra could actually have some fun.

“Would you unzip me?” she asked coquettishly as she turned around before her nearly panting admirer..

“Of course, my dear” the man stammered, putting his own glass of champagne down and rushing to unzip her. She heard his sharp intact of breath as he unzipped her and revealed her gorgeous body. She let her dress fall to the ground and stepped out of it and then turned around. She wore just her black thong panties and her matching lace bra. She had already discarded her heels. Then as the man drooled she unclasped her bra releasing her pert young breasts. She dropped the garment on the ground and then slipped her panties down her long legs and off. Now naked she walked as seductively as she could in her slightly inebriated state over to the man and tried to get him to forget this dress up nonsense.

He was adamant though. He even produced a special little surprise. He had a wig he wanted her to wear as well. He even wanted to put it on her himself and he didn’t want her to see it until it was on. Dutifully Sandra closed her eyes and waited as he produced the wig from its hiding place. Then waited as he placed it carefully upon her head making sure all her long blonde hair was tucked beneath it. Sandra wanted to see the wig then, but he playfully told her to wait a moment longer. He then ran into the other room and returned with the outfit she was to change into. She found the suspense was actually making her wet. This was so much better then the safe dates her former manager arranged for her.

“Alright, you can open your eyes now.” The man said.

Sandra did so immediately as she was quite anxious by this point to see what all the fuss was about. She was more then a little surprised with what she saw. She had expected the man to desire her to wear some skimpy little set of lingerie or some scandalously tight latex or leather. What he held before her was neither the former nor the latter. It was a terribly cutesy lacy pink little girl’s style party dress. It was flouncy and the skirt was held wide by what had to be a petticoat. He even held little girl style underwear and shoes for her to wear.

“I can’t wear that” Sandra said after a moment’s revulsion. “It’s too weird”

“Please, Sandra. You’ll make me so happy. I’ve dreamed of it for years.” The man pleaded and sat the garments down on the edge of the sofa for her.

“I’m sorry; you should have mentioned this earlier. I can’t do it.” Sandra admitted. “But we can still have fun, honey” she tried to placate him with her raw sexuality.

“No, you have to wear the dress… please.” He knelt beside her and took her hand softly as he pleaded.

She almost broke at that point and gave in, but then she realized what that would mean. She would have to put on the silly clothes and from there on who knows what she would have to do with the weirdo. She had to draw the line somewhere and for her the line was right here. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t wear it.” She said firmly.

“Yes, you will” he suddenly sounded angry and stood up. “I went to a lot of trouble to be here and to get this room and to get you…. So you’ll wear it or else!”

“Or else what?” Sandra barked back. She had seen and heard enough from this psycho. She also didn’t like being threatened and bullied. So she wasn’t going to take any of his threatening crap.

“Or else…Or else…” The fanatic seemed startled she would ask and didn’t have an answer right away. His eyes darted about the room as he thought quickly. Then they settled on something and he smiled. Then as Sandra watched with horror he stalked over to the sofa they had been sitting at and picked up all her fine clothes and tossed them into the genuine wood burning fireplace.

“No! What do you think you’re doing?” she cried and rushed over to the fireplace. It was too late though the clothes had quickly caught fire and she couldn’t safely get them out. They were lost to her.

“Now you have to wear what I gave you.” The sick man smiled triumphantly.

Sandra was furious. She looked from the smiling man to the pile of clothes he had provided and back again. Then she walked slowly over to him and kicked him squarely in the groin. She hit him with all the force her petite body could muster and caught him totally by surprise. He hunched over in great pain letting out a silent scream and began to fall to the ground. Sandra felt exhilarated from this action right up until she saw the man hit his head on the hard corner of the coffee table as he slid to the ground. He ended up at her feet with blood pouring from his head. Sandra wasn’t a doctor but that didn’t look good and he wasn’t moving.

Knowing that she could be held responsible for this Sandra hurried to leave the hotel room. She found to her dismay that she couldn’t find her purse however. It was no where to be found. The weirdo must have tossed her purse in the fire along with her clothes she realized in horror. Reluctantly she left without it. She had to. She just scooped up the pile of clothes the fan had brought her from the sofa edge before she left slamming the door hard behind her.

In the hallway Sandra sobered up quickly. It was much cooler and quieter here allowing her to think more clearly. The horrifying reality of what had just happened finally dawned on her. She might be a murderer. That weird guy could be dead because of her. She could be found guilty in a court of law and sent to one of those horrible women’s prisons she saw on cable late at night. Her career would be over! All she could think to do was get the hell out of the hotel as quickly as her little legs could take her.

Waiting for the elevator was sheer torture, but they were on the fifteenth floor and Sandra didn’t want to run down all those flights of stairs. When it arrived she was happy to see it was blessedly free of other passengers. It was rather late fortunately. It was nearly eleven o’clock on a Thursday. Most people were in bed. Hopping in the elevator she hit the button for the lobby and was thrilled when the door closed and it started moving.

She was going to hit the emergency stop between floors so she could put some clothes on, but she found to her dismay that this new model elevator didn’t have such a thing. It did, but you needed a key to activate it. Cursing she hurried to dress as the ground floor grew ever closer.

She started with the ridiculous underwear the fan had provided. Big full cut white panties with rows and rows of pink lace and a white cotton half shirt with matching lace trim. They were all in children’s sizes she noted from the tags, but she found to her dismay that they fit her just fine. She put on the dress next. It was a very frilly thing. It was pink satin with very delicate white embroidery and lace trim, short puffy sleeves, and a big ornamental bow on the back. Its high collar, frilly decorations and high waist almost completely diminished her chest. The petticoat she had detected earlier turned out to be sewn to the inside of the dress. So when she put it on it billowed out at a very wide angle. No amount of encouragement from Sandra would make it settle any less buoyantly or make it any longer. It was quite short and seemed even shorter as it billowed out so. She hadn’t worn a dress like this since her aunts wedding when she was in the 6th grade. Cursing her luck she then slipped on the knee socks and the patent leather round toed pink Mary Janes that came with the outfit.

She had just about finished buckling the straps on the shoes when the elevator reached the lobby and the big brass doors opened with a chime. Sandra stepped out carefully. She peaked around to see if anyone was about. She didn’t want to be seen after all. Not like this. With just a little luck though she thought she could reach the front door without anyone noticing her. So walking as quietly as she could on the tile floor in the hard soled Mary Janes she preceded carefully toward the door. She made it about ten paces before she was confronted with her own reflection in the huge gold framed lobby mirrors.

She was momentarily stunned and paused in mid-step. She couldn’t believe the little girl in the mirror was her. She looked so different then she was used to seeing herself. So much less mature then her 22 years of age. The wig she had forgotten to remove certainly didn’t help. It was a bright red in color and set in simply juvenile curls and set off with a big pink bow. She tried to remove the damn thing, but found it wouldn’t budge. No matter how hard she pulled all she managed to do was make her scalp hurt. The goddamned freak had apparently glued the wig on! There must have been glue on it even before he put it on her head. At least for now the wig seemed like it was going to have to stay just where it was Sandra lamented. Worse still she saw that her dress was not only short, but that even standing still she couldn’t help but show off a little of her childish lace trimmed panties.

Shaking off the strange vision she once again headed toward the hotel entrance-way. From there she could catch a cab or if she had to she could walk home. As she passed by the front desk she was startled by the loud ding of the elevator door closing. She was so excited and nervous that she spun all the way around the see what the sound was. Cursing to herself when she saw that it was just the elevator she forgot to look where she was going and nearly collided with a tall woman in a dark pinstripe suit who was walking up to her. Of all the luck it was the concierge. She was certain the woman had seen her arrive that day and might have even been at her show earlier. She was caught it seemed.

Then she noticed the way she was looking at her. Not like an awe struck fan as she had been that afternoon or in admiration as she had been while Sandra was performing. She looked at her with concern and a bit of irritation. She didn’t recognize her Sandra realized. She still had a chance. This woman thought she was someone else. She just had to get by her and out the door.

“Excuse me” Sandra said politely as she tried to get past the woman.

The woman was having none of it though. She continued to block Sandra’s path as she looked her up and down. Without her heels the tall woman towered over Sandra. She seemed to think for a minute before speaking and choose her words carefully. When she spoke she did so slowly in soft tones like she was speaking to a child. “Pardon me, dear; I am the concierge here at the hotel, my name is Ms. Bainbridge, but you can call me Eliza. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Ummm…” Sandra was at a loss for words. Judging by how she spoke to her the nice Ms. Bainbridge apparently thought Sandra was a child! Moreover she was probably very curious as to why Sandra was down in the lobby at such a late hour by herself.

“Are you looking for your parents?” Eliza asked in concern.

“No! What are you crazy?” Sandra suddenly replied despite herself. She wasn’t looking for her parents. She was 22 years old for god’s sake. She didn’t even need her stupid manager anymore. She gave Eliza a look that had in the past told people they had better back away because they were pissing her off. Tonight however it didn’t seem to work.

“Calm down, dear. No reason to get excited. I’m here.” Eliza said as she put her hand on Sandra’s shoulder and began to guide her over to the front desk. “Are your parents up in your room?” Eliza asked. “At least one of them should be down here with you. Its no problem of course, we’ll just give them a call-”

Sandra couldn’t believe it. Eliza thought she was a child staying at the hotel and was now trying to do her job and make sure she didn’t get hurt. She didn’t recognize her as the hotels very own headlining performer. Things were really getting ridiculous and she had had enough. She couldn’t stay here one moment longer. She twisted out of Eliza’s loose grasp and began to run up the entrance-way to the exit. Eliza was too shocked to do anything at first but watch Sandra run off.

Sandra was certain she was going to make her escape this time. She could see the street and the cars whizzing by just outside the glass doors. She had almost gotten caught, but she had escaped. This was soon to be just another amusing tale for cocktail parties. Then she ran into trouble. The long entrance-way hall was marble tile covered in fancy rugs. Running on the rugs Sandra made good time despite her short stature, but when her rather slick bottomed Mary Jane hit a portion of the tile floor not covered by a rug she slipped and had a good tumble. She slid to a stop on her rump not ten feet from the big revolving glass doors of the entrance-way. Before she could shake off her shock though a big doorman came and grabbed her.

He wasn’t rough. He was fairly gentle, but he was very strong. He picked her up like she was a doll and placed her on her feet. Then like she was a careless child he flipped her skirt which had flipped up over her back exposing her childish panties into its proper position. Sandra tried to break his grasp and continue her flight, but he was far too strong. His grip on her arm was unbreakable.

“Let go of me you big gorilla!” she shouted to no avail. He wouldn’t let go and she struggled she gasped as she remembered him as the very same doorman who had helped her from her limo earlier that day. The same doorman who had taken such a long admiring glance at her legs when she was exiting her limo that he had blushed bright red when she caught him and gave him a wink. The same doorman, but now dressed as she was had no interest in her beyond restraining her for her own safety.

Then Eliza came rushing up to entrance-way. She knelt down so she was closer to Sandra’s height to speak to her. “Please honey; don’t be difficult this is for your own good. We can’t have young children running out into the streets. You could be badly hurt.” Eliza explained gently.

“But that’s just the point! I’m not a-“ she was about to say she was really 22 years old and the famous vocalist they had contracted to perform in their very own club when she realized how humiliating it would be for them to find that out at this point. For now it seemed better to be taken for an errant child then a half drunk woman running around in children’s clothes. So instead she said “I’m not staying in your damn hotel!” and was certain that now they would have to let her go.

“She’s a real spitfire, she is” The doorman then commented as he smiled down at her crushing her hopes of a quick release. He didn’t seem to be taking what she had said as the truth though and neither did Eliza.

“She sure is, Andre” Eliza said in agreement and they shared a look that Sandra interpreted as ‘She’s more then a spitfire, she’s a spoiled little brat!’

“Listen, you fools. I’m not a-” Sandra began again but stopped as Eliza stood, motioned for Andre to bring Sandra and began to head back up the entrance-way. “Hey, where are you taking me?” Sandra shouted as she was pulled along by Andre.

“Just to the office, dear. We’ll have this matter straightened out in no time.” Eliza replied.

“But I don’t want to go with you! I just want to get out of here!” Sandra shouted.

“I know, I know” Eliza replied dismissively as she led the way.

“I know I shouldn’t have been running, but I’m sorry” Sandra tried to reason with Andre or Eliza or whoever would listen. “I won’t do it again. None of this is necessary!”

“That’s very interesting” Eliza said despite the fact that it was clear she was hardly listening. Sandra didn’t like that answer of course so continued to struggle and kick at Andre for all the good it did her.

She only stopped when they walked by the bar area. There were still a fair number of men and women there having drinks and listening to a piano player. Fortunately they were distracted by what they were doing and didn’t seem to notice as Eliza led Andre and Sandra past them. Sandra almost pulled free at one point, but Andre caught her again and this time held her by the back of her frilly dress with one of his massive hands. He didn’t seem to notice, however Sandra did, that by holding her by the back of her dress as he was he was pulling her dress up leaving Sandra’s lower body exposed. If anyone cared to look they would see the entirety of her childish panties and some of her cute little belly.

Then of all things Eliza told Andre to wait a moment while she checked in the bar to see if Sandra belonged to any of the patrons. So Sandra had to stand there in her currently jumbled up juvenile attire for everyone to see. She was humiliated enough already to be seen in public dressed as she was. But to be seen being dragged along by the doorman like a naughty little girl with her dress in disarray, one knee sock crumpled and her face red from exertion was too much.

“Look at that little rapscallion” She heard someone in the bar say.

“Must have lost her mommy” she heard an elegantly dressed woman say to her date.

“Or maybe her dolly” the woman’s date joked.

“It must be past her bedtime, she looks cranky” another commented.

They all laughed and smiled at the charming scene before them not for a moment suspecting that she was a full grown woman. The women were amused because they could relate to Sandra’s problems. They wore skirts and could imagine the torment she must be going through with hers all rucked up exposing her childish panties to everyone. Even worse then that though was that charming handsome men were laughing at her as well. The women she could understand. The men however were the ones she had always been able to wrap around her little finger. The men usually adored her and did whatever she wished. Tonight though she wasn’t the sexy siren she normally was. In their eyes she was just a naughty looking little girl.

It wasn’t fair! She was a celebrity. Not a household name or anything, but at least a local celebrity. This shouldn’t be happening to her. She shouldn’t be subjected to this humiliation. She shouldn’t be restrained by these hotel nitwits. Nor should she be laughed at and ridiculed by these nobodies. She didn’t see how things could get any worse.

Then it did. The concierge she saw was handed a message from another hotel employee and after reading it came straight back over to Sandra to tell her just about the last thing she wished to hear. “Good news, honey. We found your dad and he’s on his way down to get you.”

On his way down to get her? Sandra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What were they talking about? How could they have found her dad? They didn’t even know who she was? Then the elevator dinged and a familiar man stepped out in the lobby and turned to approach them.

It was the weirdo. Sandra’s biggest fan.

He walked slowly and had an ice pack on his head but still managed to smile and act both apologetic and gracious to the hotel staff for finding his naughty daughter. “I’ll take her back upstairs now.” He told them “We need to have a long talk.” Then turning to Sandra he added slyly “Don’t we my pretty little flower?”

And Sandra understood the play he was giving her instantly. She could come clean and tell the concierge and Andre and whomever else in the bar was listening who she really was and not have to go with him. However if she did that she would be humiliated and he could probably bring her up on charges of assault or maybe even attempted murder. So her only real choice was to go with him, pretend to be his daughter and face the music as it were.

Sandra taking his hand and allowing herself to be led back to the elevator like a condemned woman was a forgone conclusion. As the doors closed and the elevator began to rise he said to her “You look lovelier then I ever imagined” and as she raised one leg to fix her fallen knee sock she thought maybe this won’t be so bad. After all she had always been a sucker for compliments.