Day One-- Act One

Prologue

     Amy Peale smiled as she looked down at invitation. The first thought that popped into her mind was, "About damn time."

     It was a little sad that she was so excited over it - reality shows were an easy way to re-establish fame, to get people to remember you, but she had really been hoping to land one of the roles she'd been auditioning for. Back when she'd been on The Afterlife of Astrid Appleby, she'd always thought it was ridiculous that reality show contestants were considered popular, some even more than her. Sure, she was just the sidekick, but she was still one of the main characters on one of the more popular kids' shows on their channel, not some ordinary slob whose only talent was being able to force themselves to eat insects without throwing up or something. 

     But the truth was, she hadn't gotten cast in anything for years now, and, at 22, she knew she needed to do something soon to get herself back in the spotlight, while she still had a few years of being young enough to land jobs as something other than a mother left. This could be the perfect solution. And if she could win, it would be even better. She'd be sure to make the talk show rounds then, which would really get her face out there. That was all she really needed, she was sure, to remind people she was still there. And the prize would be nice, too.

     She looked back down at the invitation, trying to remember what the prize was. In fact, it didn't mention one, but she was sure there had to be one. That was why people watched these things, wasn't it? She was still getting by all right, largely because her parents had taken care of her money from the show for her until just the year before, but she wouldn't mind winning a bit more cash. Really, it was the publicity she'd get just for winning that was important, but she wasn't going to say no to a little spending money.

     She glanced up at the top of the invitation, a little surprised again to see it referred to her by her real name, and not Destiny Starr, the stage name she'd chosen for Afterlife. She'd stuck by it for the other little roles she'd gotten after that, but now, ten years after picking it, she couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed by it. She still used it at auditions, since that was what people might recognize her as, but maybe this show would be her chance to finally break free of it. Then again, she couldn't say she liked her real name much more. And, just like at auditions, she worried people wouldn't realize who she was without that name in the credits. She'd have to think on it a little more, she decided, then talk to the producers about which one they'd use on the show.

     Thinking of that, she flipped the invitation over, then looked at the envelope it had come in, but there was no information on who, exactly, was making this show. No producers, not even a production company. It was signed simply by "the game master". She rolled her eyes a little at it. It seemed a little unprofessional, but maybe that was how they did things on reality shows. 

     "Ugh... What am I getting myself into?" she asked out loud, wrinkling her nose. But the idea of not accepting never crossed her mind. It might not be ideal, but this was her ticket back into the spotlight, and she was going to do whatever it took to make sure it was a one way trip. 

Arrival

     The road was growing darker by the minute as the sun sank into the sea. Destiny cursed loudly as she passed the road whose name sounded familiar, looking down at the seat beside her at the directions from her invitation. She scanned through them, looking for where she was now. She felt a bump as her car started to go off the road from her inattention, and quickly jerked the wheel the other way with another profanity. Her mood only got worse as she saw that, sure enough, she should have taken the road. She gave a loud grunt of exasperation, slamming her hand against the steering wheel. Had one of her feet not been on the gas pedal, she'd have stomped it, too. She hated driving - she'd never paid much attention as she'd been taught it. Afterlife had wrapped just a year or so before she'd been old enough to get her learner's permit, so she'd still been waiting for the call about her next series, and assumed she'd just have people to drive her around wherever she needed. 

    As she looked back up at the road, she saw she was more than half in the opposite lane, and corrected herself. She stared ahead, looking for a driveway or somewhere she could turn around, but there was just a big stretch of nothing, so, finally, she just did it in the middle of the road, glad she apparently had it to herself. Why did this place need to be so far out of the way? She was starting to worry there was something wrong, that she was about to walk into a snuff film or something.

     Her GPS failed to alert her the second time she approached the road, either, though she was ready for it and did it on her own. "Stupid piece of junk!" she growled, grabbing the contraption from its mount and throwing it into her floorboards in a fit of anger. It was possible she just hadn't programmed it right - she'd only just bought it that morning, specifically for the trip, and had been too impatient to read the directions - but she'd rather assume it was the machine's fault. Luckily, she was almost there now, and the final bit of directions was easy enough.

     All her fears melted away as she saw the house, expelled in a single, wide-eyed, "Wow." She double-checked the address, just to make sure, nearly running into another car in the process. The place was huge! It was the kind of place she'd always imagined herself ending up in, back when she'd first started acting. Obviously, whoever was making this show had a decent budget, which made her feel much more excited to find out just what the final reward would be for winning this thing.

     She got a little disappointed again when nobody came to carry her luggage for her, and stood at her car for a minute or two, debating whether she should go in and see if there was anybody there, or just do it herself. Eventually, she settled on taking one suitcase, a decision that seemed wise once she'd lugged it all the way to the front door. She hadn't thought she'd packed that much, but that was before she'd had to carry it all that way. She plopped it down in the entryway with a relieved sigh, looking around, pleased, at the interior.

     She wasn't sure how they were doing rooms yet - if they were assigned, or if she had to share, or what - so she left her suitcase there and followed the sound of voices to the living room. Four women sat there already, leaving one open seat for her. "Hi!" she exclaimed cheerfully as she walked slowly over to it. "Oh, I hope I'm not late!" She didn't mind making an entrance, but it did irk her slightly to lose out on her choice of where to sit, especially since the most comfortable looking seats had already been taken, leaving her with an uncomfortable wooden chair, elegant but hardly her first choice.

     She glanced around at the other women, trying to figure out what she'd seen them on before, hoping to judge how likely they were to have a bigger fan base than her, but none of them looked familiar, with the possible exception of the short chick with the dikey haircut… she seemed kind of familiar—Destiny had thought she’d seen her on a talk-show or something a while ago—Margot something? Had they lumped her in with a bunch of unknowns? That might better her chances, but it bruised her ego nonetheless, as she was sure she deserved much more famous co-stars than whoever these nobodies were. Worse still, two of them looked like they were probably old enough to have considered themselves to mature to watch Afterlife when they were kids, which meant that, even if they weren't famous, they'd be less likely to be intimidated, or even just impressed, by her presence. She could feel a pout starting to form before she made herself smile instead, doing her best to seem chipper and enthusiastic.

    She had barely seated herself when the doors at the far end of the room swung open. The man who entered was immaculately dressed, his suit the finest most of the women had ever seen. He had a laidback swagger, a cocky smirk, and sunglasses indoors after sunset. It was almost as though he was daring them to smirk and call him the very embodiment of a sleazy Hollywood producer—yet somehow, he managed to pull it off.

     “Ladies,” he greeted warmly, “thank you so much for being here this evening and thanks for accepting the invitation to my humble home. I am your host, and I’ve been known by many names in my time. For the purposes of our program, you may address me as The Game master, or simply Master for short.”

     There were assorted snorts, especially from the woman with the short hair. But he pressed on.  “I’m sure you’re all wondering what it’s all about—but just in case everyone hasn’t met yet, I’d like to go around the room and introduce our players.

     “First of all—I’m sure some of you may recognize Ms. Amy Peale… Though I’m sure you know her better as Destiny Star, star of some silly piece of kiddy crap or another…”

     “Hey!” Destiny Snapped. It was true of course, but hardly polite, especially five minutes after she’d arrived.

     But he continued undaunted. “Of course we’re also joined by Margret Stern, author, activist, and all around kill-joy who would be sort of sexy if she just grew her bangs out a little…”

     Margret said nothing; content instead to shoot him a cool stare. The Master continued undeterred. “Next we have with us Brittany Phillips, 23, a daycare worker who says she came here to quote: ‘get away from awful children and their stinky diapers.’ Oh Brittany,” he chuckled to himself, “If only you knew how funny that statement truly is.

     “Next on the chopping block is Alice Lipton: CEO for McSegual Medical supplies and contacts INC, and recently indicted on land fraud charges.”

     Alice scowled at him. “I’ll have you know that matter is currently on appeal, sir!”

     “Oh, duly noted,” he grinned. He came to rest in front of the last contestant. A slight, young blond girl, she looked nervous in a way that wasn’t entirely related to appearing on network TV. “Now this is interesting,” he said slowly, watching her with a strange smile. Even behind the dark glasses, the girl could feel his gaze on her, inspecting her every atom like he had x-ray vision. She looked to the floor, but her tucked a finger under her chin, tilting her head back so she met his gaze. “On our lists, it says we have one Jessica Smith joining our little competition…” He said with a slow smile. “But you aren’t her, are you?”

     “Wh-what are you talking about?” the girl said unconvincingly.

     “Oh, you look like her…” he said, bending down close to her. “But Jessica’s a naughty little girl, isn’t she?”

     “Well,” the girl swallowed, “that is, I guess it’s up to interpretation…”

     “Oh no, my dear,” The Master said, bending down close to her. “You see, I know a naughty girl when I see one. A bad girl wears her naughtiness around her like a perfume. I’m defiantly not getting any of that scent off you, little one. The fragrance I’m getting off of you is…” he sniffed the air deliberately and smiled hungrily. “Innocence.” He straightened, seeming to tower over her.  “So tell me: who are you?”

     The girl sighed. “My Name is Lucy Smith… Jessica’s my twin sister.”

     “Dear Lucy,” the Master said with a chuckle, “I did my homework on you-- you’re a sweet and innocent girl—what would make you come to a place like this… and by such shady means?”

Lucy shook nervously in her seat, looking across at the other contestants. "I... well it was... to... to protect her. Fame would go to her head, and I know she wouldn't be able to take it... I...” Lucy’s face gradually grew more and more red as she spoke, embarrassed at how quickly she had been found out. "I just wanted her to be safe." Lucy then stared at the floor, before finally looking up, on the brink of tears. "Are you going to kick me out for lying?"

     “Oh Lucy!” the Master laughed when she finished her story. “I’d like to tell you I’ll go easy on you dear, except… I sssssooooooo rarely get my hands on an actual, genuine innocent…”

    “Um, Excuse me?” Destiny was growing weary of all this. “But-- what kind of show is this, anyway?”

     “Hmmm… interesting question,” he said in that damn, infuriatingly smug voice of his. “Let’s say it’s a test of your metal—a chance to see who you really are on the inside via a series of challenges, both physical and… well, I’d hate to spoil the surprise. To… separate the women from the little girls, so to speak.

     “This show is about finding out who you really are—getting to the real character beneath the surface—and showing it to the entire …”

     “How come I’d never heard of this shoe before now?” Destiny interrupted, playing the role of the showbiz insider.

     “It’s a top secret project,” he answered. “The network wants…”

     "I'm sorry, but on my show..." Destiny began to say.

     The master raised an eyebrow. “Kitty cat, I’m getting a little tired of your interruptions.”

     Destiny knew this was her chance—this was exactly the kind of crap people loved on these kind of shows… Drama, tension, big, larger than life personalities. This was her chance to establish herself as a sassy bad girl… And the world loves a bad girl, she thought.

     “I’m sorry, but this is really unprofessional. Why wasn’t this information made available before the show? This is so disorganized—do YOU even know what you’re doing here?”

     He never lost his cool, his smile never wavered. He was utterly confident in something.

     “You’re asking me for a demonstration?”

     Destiny rolled her eyes, really getting into character now. “Is it really so much to ask? I mean, I was nice enough to come out her for your little show, and there wasn’t even anyone to take my bags at the front door! I think I’m entitled to…”

     She was startled by the sensation of something coiling around her torso and slipping beneath her underarms like a large invisible snake. It was an even bigger shock, however, as she glanced downward, and suddenly saw that she was now hovering over her chair. "What the-?!" she gasped, flailing as she rose higher up, feeling the tiniest spurt of urine escape her at the shock, soaking into her panties before she could stop it. She'd been flown a few different times for Afterlife, but this was something different. There was no uncomfortable harness, no wires holding her up - she was simply floating, like some invisible hand had lifted her up and was holding her there.

     The other women watched in amazement, unable to believe what they were seeing. This had to be a stunt of some kind, didn’t it? Each one found herself checking for wires.

     Destiny simply floated there for a moment, suspended in air, arms and legs flailing. The Master never moved from the front of the room, never moved a muscle or broke a sweat. If he was responsible for this unbelievable turn of events, there was no indication on his serene face. “O-o-OK, Mister Master, sir,” she said, utterly failing to keep the tremble form her voice. “I’ve learned my lesson… you can let me down now!”

     There was some type of movement below her, and for a second she thought he was going to let her down. Then she heard the crowd gasp. To her slowly dawning horror, she felt a sudden chill below her waist. Her heart stopped for a moment as she gaped down at herself, her bare crotch visible for any of those other women to see - not to mention all the viewers at home. Her hands shot down to cover it, her cheeks burning bright red.

     “Woah!” she shrieked, suddenly pitching forward, sure she was going to fall flat on her face.

     But whatever was holding her up had hadn’t let her go; it was simply rotating her in the air slowly, angling her head down and her bare bottom up, until her adorably plump backside was jutting upward invitingly in the air behind her.

     “You can’t do this!” she bellowed self importantly. “I--I’ll sue! Yeah! I’m gonna—AAHH!” she cried, her eyes sprang even wider open and she let out a surprised cry as something smacked, hard, against her bare bottom, causing a gasp to ripple through the room.

     "What's happening?!" she wailed, just in time for another smack across her backside, making her buns quiver.

     “Naughty girls are like bottles of ketchup,” said the master sagely, watching Destiny kick and squeal as another loud swat landed on her backside, “sometimes you need to smack them on the bottom before they come out right.”

     Destiny let out another yelp as another loud swat popped against her wriggling rump. "Stop it!" As if in defiance, it came again, and again, faster and faster. And, just like one of the strikes, the humiliating realization hit her out of the blue - she was in the middle of receiving a spanking, like some naughty little brat. "No!" She tried to shield herself with her hands, but that did no good. If anything, it only made it come harder, and faster.

     "Stoooop!" she screamed, helplessly kicking her feet and thrashing out with her arms, throwing a mid-air temper tantrum as tears began to shine in her eyes. "You can't do this to me!" But clearly, whoever was doing it could, because it kept going, alternating cheeks at first, then going for both at once in a sudden barrage that felt like a whole team of people were spanking her at the same time. They began moving further downward, to the tops of her thighs, while also being sure to go back over the area they'd already covered.

     Destiny punched helplessly at the air and pumped her legs furiously behind her, making her scalding derriere jiggle. Her entire backside felt like it was on fire, and she had no doubt that it was bright red by now. She hadn't even noticed that the protests she kept trying to blurt out had long since been rendered unintelligible by her crying. She was sure her make-up had to be ruined by now, by all the tears that were streaming down her face, but that was the least of her worries. First and foremost was - when will it end?

     And, finally, blessedly, it did. Just as suddenly as it had began, it stopped, and she felt herself being lowered, blubbering, back to her seat, though there was one final smack on the rump just before it was settled back onto the chair. She really wished she'd been able to choose a softer chair now, as the hard, wooden seat only made her swollen, blazing bottom hurt more. She could feel all eyes on her as she fumbled with her panties and shorts, pulling them back up, wishing for once that she wasn't the center of attention. Luckily, she wasn't waiting for long.

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