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Enslaved By A Starlet by Mark Andrews

Enslaved By A Starlet 
(Mark Andrews)

Enslaved By A Starlet

Chapter 1


William Thornbury’s grief at the loss of his so beautiful wife from breast cancer knew no bounds.  His daughter, Frances, had also felt the loss of her mother but she tried her best to console the father she loved so much.

On a practical plane, he understood very well that he needed to snap out of his malaise and get on with his life; but on an emotional level and despite the best efforts of his so wonderful daughter, he found it exceedingly difficult to face the world.

Frances was in every respect, a wonderful young lady: intelligent, top of her class at school and now at university where she was studying physical education; beautiful, in a delightful, homely way; and with a body that was so close to being perfect in every respect that when she was seen in her bikini, everyone stopped and looked – and then looked again.

When she realised just how badly her father had been affected by the death of her mother, she pulled the pin on her studies and came home to be with him in his grief.

Of course their servants, headed by the butler, Charles Bradbury and his wife Amelia who was their cook, also tried their best to make life as easy as possible for their employer but while he appreciated the efforts of both his daughter and his staff he just couldn’t snap out of his low spirits.

William was a billionaire many times over.  His wealth had been partly inherited from a series of ancestors who had carefully nurtured the estate down through the generations and he himself had added another ten percent to its total value.  He owned vast estates both in the country and the cities of England as well as overseas; but he also was the sole proprietor of a number of large enterprises including an international airline, a five-star hotel chain and a very profitable cruise line, to name just a few of them.

He did not however preside over this enormous enterprise from the top floor of a London tower building, preferring a small secretariat attached to his study in the house.

It was situated in a beautiful part of Hertfordshire in the centre of an enormous estate which, unlike so many belonging to the old aristocracy and landed gentry, was still in its original grant from some long distant king.

His office suite was headed up by his PA, Peter Scott, who had a degree in business administration but was also possessed of an uncanny insight that was of enormous benefit to William in making decisions as to the future of this company or that.  There was also a typist as well as a gofer, this last a young man by the name of Jerry Plant, who although only twenty-five years old, was already an expert in achieving the impossible and was an indispensable part of William’s small staff.

All of these men and women combined with Frances to get William through this so terrible part of his life.  You may be wondering that a man who was so accomplished as a businessman and member of the landed gentry of England, could be so horribly affected by the death of his wife.  The thing was, theirs was a marriage truly made in heaven and it had lasted almost forty years without even a bump.  Her cancer had been sudden and virulent and it had taken only months and she was gone from them.


But then he had met Angelique.

Angelique Montessa was not her real name of course.  But her agent had persuaded her that Gladys Barnes was no name for an up-and-coming actress and so Angelique Montessa was born.

She had been born in the slums of London but was determined to succeed.  She had the benefit of good looks and a near-perfect body.  She was also very intelligent and attended elocution and acting lessons and did very well at them and by the time she was twenty-one, she had attracted the eye of casting directors and had already had extremely good, if not starring roles in a number of films.

She knew of William Thornbury, of course.  This young woman had set her aims high from the time of her youth on the streets of inner London and so she had made every effort to court the aristocracy and landed gentry of England.

She had of course read of the death of William’s wife and so investigated him even more deeply than usual and was thrilled to discover the extent of his wealth.  And so she engineered herself into his path.

For all his grief, he had not become a recluse.  That would have been impossible given that he knew well that he still had to run his enormous business enterprise and that meant trips to London not to mention overseas at times.

Angelique kept a close watch on his movements and managed to secure an invitation to a function she knew he would be attending.  And now she showed the true mastery she possessed as an actress.  She didn’t gush when introduced to him, but played the role of a perfect aristocrat masterfully.

And for the first time since Mary’s death, he actually perked up a little, to the shock of his PA who then took a second and third look at this beautiful young woman.  His first instincts were spot-on.  He distrusted her from the first moment he saw her and from that moment on, continued to do so – to no avail. 

William was smitten.  He wouldn’t let her out of his sight for the rest of the reception and invited her down to The Folly, his huge estate in Hertfordshire, where, again playing the consummate actress, she successfully courted them all, excepting only Peter Scott who, wise and perspicacious as he was, pretended to as lively a delight in her as did everybody else.

The weekend extended, and extended, and extended again.  She was particularly assiduous in courting Frances who, although possessed of a fine intelligence and shrewdness, was taken in like everybody else.

I’m sure you can guess the outcome of this ‘chance’ meeting between William and the young seductress?  Yes of course you can.  In six months they were engaged and three months later, married.

Angelique began to fulfil the role of second wife and stepmother very carefully.  She made sure that Frances understood that she was there if the young woman wished to talk but would not otherwise intrude.  And it was the same with the servants.  She never attempted to instantly become the ‘lady of the house’, never issuing orders but always as charming with them as she was with everybody else.

Of course she was well aware that marriage automatically voids previous wills.  But she never once discussed this subject or indeed anything at all to do with William’s enormous wealth with him.  As will now be obvious she was indeed an extraordinarily intelligent young woman.  She had set her sights on his wealth but she wasn’t going to jeopardise her ambitions by premature or precipitant actions or words.

Naturally, she also played the role of sexual partner to William once he had decided that he was not being disloyal to Mary by taking his new wife to his bed.

Having been born on the streets of inner London, she was very well aware of the power her body would have over men and she very carefully used it to inflame William while at the same time acting as the demure young wife to an older man.

But as his conscience slowly receded in the knowledge that Mary was gone and that this incredibly beautiful young woman was now his wife, he invited her to his bed and there she showed him treats and experiences he hadn’t even dreamed existed.

Of course he was smitten all over again and now doted on her to the exclusion of all else, even neglecting his former almost religious duty of overseeing the management of his various enterprises.

Peter Scott watched all this with growing alarm but he hid it well, at least to his employer.  Angelique was a different question however.  She was as crafty as a fox and knew almost instantly that Peter had seen through her.  She didn’t show it by even the smallest of signs and continued to treat him as a most valuable associate of her husband.

This state of affairs went on for the next year and during that time she still had no idea where she stood in the event of her husband’s demise.  And so she planned accordingly.  It stood to reason that Frances would be the principal beneficiary of his will.  She surmised that he might well provide for her rather well, but that wasn’t good enough for her.  She wanted it all no matter what.

Planning his death was easy.  There are so many poisons around that are nondetectable but she was even more careful than that.  She surreptitiously investigated his health down to the last ache and pain, discovering that he did have some heart problems.  Not necessarily serious but requiring daily medication.  She stored that fact in her arsenal for the future.

But she also had to consider the position of Frances.  Her husband could be disposed of quite easily but the daughter was another matter but in any case she had another reason to want to keep her alive.

What nobody in the world knew was that she was secretly gay and had been struck with an instant infatuation (you couldn’t call it love for she didn’t love anybody) for Frances the moment she met her.  Of course, she didn’t let on by thought, deed or word of that desire, treating her stepdaughter in exactly the right way she considered a stepmother ought to.  And once again everybody was fooled.  At least everybody except Peter Scott, that is.

Frances therefore had to live.  And so she came up with a diabolical plan that would allow the girl her life, but reduce her almost to a mindless zombie.


First of all, the poison that was going to slowly kill her husband without his doctor being aware of it.  She researched this very carefully, using a second tablet that she kept hidden in a very secret part of her handbag.  And she never used it whilst in the house.

Once she had decided on the drug she would use on him, she turned her attention to Frances.  This was even easier and from then on she began ‘treating’ both her husband and her stepdaughter to achieve heart failure on the part of the former and signs of madness in the latter.

Once again, she was eminently successful and William gradually weakened to the point he didn’t even want to get up in the morning while at the same time, the once vivacious and eminently cheerful Frances became depressed and moody and was prone to fits of rage.

And so when William died, Angelique upped the dose to his daughter, sending her right off the planet and resulting in Frances being transferred to a psychiatric clinic she had researched and contacted with a view to admitting the girl for inpatient treatment.  And this she had carefully discussed with the chief therapist who, her researches had discovered, was into rather kinky activities with female patients.  This was exactly what she was looking for.

Frances didn’t even make her father’s funeral for by this time she was now an inpatient in the very secret basement wards of the clinic.

The funeral over and Angelique continuing to play the mourning widow, the family solicitor came to read the will which of course, as Angelique had surmised, left Frances as the principal beneficiary but with Angelique provided with life tenancy of The Folly unless and until she remarried, and with a substantial fortune on which to live.

But with Frances now certified insane by two tame doctors at the clinic, this left Angelique as trustee for the whole estate.

For the moment, she made no changes to the staff at The Folly – except for one.  She sent for Peter Scott a few days after the funeral and informed him that as he had been the personal assistant to her husband, there was obviously no role for him now that William had died.  She was pleasant and indicated that he would receive a bonus of two months pay and thanked him for his past service to her husband.

Neither of them was fooled but Peter resolved to do everything in his power to unmask the perfidy of this evil woman whom he blamed both for his former employer’s demise and the so-called madness of his daughter.  He didn’t even know where to start but decided to call on a friend of his in the fraud squad at Scotland Yard.

They parted on good terms because Peter wanted to keep open a line of communication just in case.

But now Angelique proceeded to put in place her real aims for The Folly and its new de jure chatelaine, now incarcerated in the nearby clinic.


Angelique had visited this so-called medical institution a couple of times, ostensibly to check it out as a place of ‘treatment’ for her stepdaughter, but really to suss out the chief therapist whom her contact had identified as being a specialist in rather extreme ‘treatments’.

She had then invited him to meet her outside the clinic but later realised this wasn’t necessary as the whole ethos of this place was to deal with unwanted members of the upper classes of England.  It was under the protection of the establishment and it is said, that even the government sent certain women here for a ‘treatment’.

They met in a small coffee shop that had private booths but they still spoke in near whispers.  She quickly recognised that this man was perfect for what she had in mind for Frances.

“I think, Mr Jones, that we are of like minds as regards the treatment of certain young women.  So far as young Miss Thornbury is concerned, rigorous mind-bending coupled with extreme hard exercise to result in a perfect body but with a mind that is conditioned to obedience and certainly no will of its own?”

He smiled and Angelique shuddered at the expression, very glad it wasn’t her who would be suffering under this man’s ministrations.  “Oh yes, Mrs Thornbury, I know exactly what you mean and we have the facilities in our secret basement to provide exactly the treatment you desire for this slut.

“Electric shocks to the temples and to the genital organs will be a daily part of her treatment.  So will the cane to her buttocks, the whip to her breasts (which we call udders when addressing them) and the cane to her vagina and anus also figure largely in it.”

“I wonder if it would be possible for me to visit and observe some or all of these treatments, Mr Jones?”

“Of course, Mrs Thornbury.  With clients such as you who obviously appreciate the value of our work with such sluts as this one, we very much welcome them to come and observe as this underlines to the ‘patient’ that she has no chance at all of escaping our tender mercies and that it will go on until they finally succumb and their minds are now broken to your will.”

“Excellent!  That is exactly what I was hoping for.  I take it you do not permit clothing for them during the treatment, is that right?”

“Of course.  The total removal of their clothing is seen as one of the essential elements in the treatment of these sluts.  Shame and pain are potent weapons in the breaking down of a recalcitrant mind and turning it into a totally subservient unit.”

“And will the treatment last?”

“That depends on the individual, on the continuation of the treatment once at home and a number of other factors.  In your case it might be appropriate for one of our young therapists to accompany her home and to oversee her life.  This should ensure that she remains your slave for as long as you wish…”

“Slave… What a thought.  I suppose though, that is really what she will be, isn’t it?”

“Many families have girls with real problems and for that matter, boys as well.  We treat both but my specialty is the females and, if I say so myself, I believe I am rather good at converting fractious girls into compliant females.  The depth of the treatment determines whether they may be allowed to mix socially or be contained in a special part of the house.  I believe you wish this girl to be given the full treatment?”

“Indeed I do.  She will be confined to my suite and will serve as a lowly housemaid during the day but at night I have other plans for her, which I suspect you may well be aware of?”

Again he smiled and again she shuddered.  “Oh yes, I was aware of this from the beginning of our discussions.  You may be assured she will be conditioned to providing you with the very best service you could expect from any woman in your bed.”

“Very well, then I will bring her to you tomorrow morning and will be interested to watch as you begin her transition from a wealthy young heiress to a naked slut servant and sex-slave…”

“I will look forward to receiving her tomorrow and thank you for the coffee.”


Although Peter had distrusted her motives, he couldn’t challenge her removal of the young mistress to the clinic.  She had explained to all the staff that Frances’s behaviour had deteriorated so much that proper medical treatment was now necessary.

No one disagreed with her but all mourned the fact that their wonderful young mistress had so changed as to now require this treatment.  She took her there herself in the Daimler and upon arrival asked for Mr Jones who arrived in short order and taking hold of Frances’s arm, invited Angelique to follow them downstairs.

No-one at reception turned a hair at this and now Angelique realised that one part of this place was really devoted to the treatment of recalcitrant upper-class young men and women and that the rest of the psychiatric clinic was just a cover.  She also realised that for it to continue unchallenged, it must have the support and approbation of people very high up in the establishment of England.

They moved from a decor of soft pastels and thick carpet together with fine furniture, through to bare concrete floors, walls and ceilings, steel doors and no windows.  Here she saw naked young men and women being dragged along the corridors and into and out of various rooms.  So did Frances and she now realised what it was her stepmother was bringing her to.

She fought against John Jones’ grip on her arm but it was fruitless.  He was a very tall, very muscular and obviously very strong man of just forty-two years and in the prime of his life.  He was used to dealing with violent young women and he turned on Frances now, slapping her face hard with his free hand from right to left and left to right and then right to left again, pushing his own face right into hers and informing her that she had better behave or suffer the consequences.

She backed down quickly, realising that this man was far, far stronger than she was and that she was helpless in his hands.  He pushed her into a bare room, again concrete floor, walls and ceiling and steel door.  He slammed and locked the steel door behind him and put the key in his pocket.  And then, while Angelique looked on, smiling in approval, he fairly ripped Frances’s clothing from her body, smirking as more and more of it was revealed to him and copping a feel of her so perfect breasts, buttocks and even her sexual organs as each became exposed.

Her clothing became mere rags and while she screamed and fought against his superior strength, she knew it was a losing battle and in time she was totally naked, her face blushing furiously and her whole body shaking in the shame of being stripped in front of her stepmother by this horrible man.

Now that she was stark naked, Jones stepped back and crossed his muscular arms across his chest and staring in pleasure at the vision of loveliness that now cringed in shame, her legs crossed one over the other to hide her sex and her arms across her breasts.  She glanced at her stepmother and was shocked to see the lust now patently obvious on her face and suddenly she realised that this woman had murdered her father and now confined her to this terrible place probably to train her to become her sex-slave.

But she didn’t have that much time to contemplate this terrible thought for Jones now screamed at her: “Stand up straight, slut.  Legs apart!  Wider!  Much wider!  Hands up behind your head!  Elbows back!  Stand up straight!  Don’t look at me.  Fix your eyes on a point on the wall and don’t move them away.”

She was crying now, under the battering of these orders and demands but she obeyed them because she now observed that he had a cane in his hands.  She had no idea where he had picked this up from but he was now swishing it through the air and she had no doubts that it was intended for her body.

Angelique watched all this with a raw and potent joy flooding through her mind and body.  Oh yes!  This was perfect.  And just look at that body.  She would like just a tiny bit more muscle and a fining down of that admittedly very thin layer of fat until it was an athlete’s dream and the muscles nicely apparent but Mr Jones had assured her that this was eminently possible and achievable and now that she had watched his methods, she had no doubt of his abilities.  What she was now looking forward to was the first of the mind-bending tortures this wonderful man was going to perpetrate on that magnificent body in the interests of taming her and converting her into the perfect sex-slave.

Once he had achieved his ends in frightening the girl into mindless obedience, he turned to Angelique and invited her to come and watch the next process.  “We don’t allow body hair on any of our slave-trainees, Mrs Thornbury.  Accordingly we will now take her to the hot tank and there dip her continuously until all her bodily hairs are permanently removed.”

Angelique gasped and then a slow smile formed all over her face.  “Perfect,” she said gloatingly.  “Let’s do it.”

Jones unlocked the door and leaving the rags of her former clothing where they were, dragged her out along the corridor past other naked female and male slaves (for that is what they were now referred to and to all intents and purposes that’s what they now were) also being dragged this way or that and all showing fear and in some cases terror at where they were going.

The hot tank room was at the end of the corridor and like every other room on that level, was stark concrete.  The tank itself was round, a metre in diameter and two metres deep and over it stood a gantry that allowed the victim to be secured into the harness, raised up, and then the gantry swung back so that the slave was perched right over the steaming liquid in the tank.  This they did to Frances now, securing her in the harness and then operating the electric winch so that she was drawn up off the floor, another button pressed to move the gantry right over the tank and then she was dropped down rapidly into the ultra-hot fluid.

She screamed as her feet and then her legs and body disappeared down into the red fluid until her mouth was almost immersed at which her descent stopped, she was left there for about thirty seconds screaming blue murder at the heat and the intense itching from the liquid and then she was brought up as fast as she had formerly descended.  She was left hanging there in the harness for about a minute and then dropped back down into it again.

This was repeated for an hour and by the end of it all signs of hair on her legs, her vulva and her armpits were gone.