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theperfectawful · 20 days

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Blind Item / Chapter 1

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC

Chapter 1: Gimme More

Rating: Explicit (18+) Series Summary: 2007. Hollywood, CA. As a former child star, you face the harsh reality of growing up in the unforgiving spotlight. A car crash on Sunset Boulevard and a cocaine scandal give you one option: Rehab. Reluctantly agreeing, you embark on a 90-day stay at Promises Malibu to attempt to salvage your career. But when Dieter Bravo arrives, your journey takes an unexpected turn. Drawn to each other, you navigate sobriety and the wreckage of your reputation. As the double standard of Hollywood's treatment of troubled stars becomes evident, you question if redemption is truly possible in a world of unequal consequences. Word Count: 11k

Content/Warnings: Age gap (~10 years, Dieter is in his mid-thirties), alternating POV, heavy drug use, illegal drug use, alcohol use, driving under the influence, frenemy dynamics, oral sex (f!receiving), dubcon/noncon, it is neither reader nor Dieter's finest hour when we meet them. Period-typical language and behavior, Hollywood assholes.

Notes: This is my first fic - I've never written or posted anything like this before, so please be kind and feel free to share any feedback or suggestions. I never would have been able to write something like this, let alone work up the nerve to post it, if it hadn't been for the kind and gracious support of @pennyserenade, @whatsnewalycat and @frannyzooey all lending me their advice when I slid into their DMs. They all inspire me endlessly with their work and talent and it’s because of their work that I was inspired to write something of my own.

Our reader is, for now, and unnamed OC. While I’ve done my best to avoid using physical descriptors of her, it should be noted that this story is a period piece that takes place in early 2000s Hollywood. The main character would have been a contemporary of stars like Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie, and there are certain assumptions I’ve made about what she looks like based on that factor of this particular story. The early 2000s could be dark, ruthless times, y'all, especially for young women in and effected by Hollywood. My intention is to examine that. Thank you for reading!

Desperate times call for desperate measures: sources say that this former child star’s team is working overtime to keep her employed. When she made her not-so-graceful exit from her latest film, the star cited conflicting schedules as the reason for her departure. The film’s producer has a different story: the Hollywood juggernaut has been heard around town calling the star unprofessional, accusing her of being late to her call times and using drugs in her trailer. She’s got a shot at a last resort: a return to television. Word is, the bad publicity has her team bargaining and drawing out sober contracts just to get her hired.

Whenever you were in town for work, you stayed at the Chateau Marmont. You were in Los Angeles often enough and long enough to justify buying a home there, but you refused, the idea of actually owning a home in LA never quite sitting right with you. Instead, you rented the same room each time you visited. You loved that little bungalow. The thick, lush landscaping shaded the windows and kept it nice and cool inside, and your front door was only a stone's-throw from the swimming pool.

It felt like home after a few years, anyway. These old, tucked-away places were what you liked most about Los Angeles, unlikely, quiet havens hidden between sky-high condos and overly sleek offices. The building breathed old-Hollywood luxury, vintage tiles and original hardwood floors and the ghosts of silent film stars wandering the hallways. The staff knew you well. The same breakfast was delivered to your door at noon every day. The top-tier maid service employed by the hotel kept the living room, kitchen, bathrooms and second bedroom impeccably tidy, though they were given clear instructions not to enter your bedroom.

Your bedroom did not inspire the same glamorous aesthetic as the rest of the hotel. Clothing was piled high against the walls and pouring out of dresser drawers, tags and receipts discarded in the wake. Empty bottles cluttered the hardwood floors, clear, crushed water bottles and rattly orange pill canisters. A full ashtray sat on a side table, a makeup mirror and various products scattered next to it.

In the middle of the room was a king-sized bed, an antique walnut headboard sprawling against the wall with a mountain of sheets and blankets layered atop a deep mattress. You laid swaddled in those sheets, rubbing your palms into your shut eyes and groaning as you rolled over, dragging your hands wide across your face to peek out at the clock on your nightstand.

4:41pm. You blinked, straining your eyes to focus and confirm you read that right. 4:41pm. Fuck.

Bleary-eyed, you reached for your phone, met immediately by a barrage of missed calls and unread messages when you slid it open.

MELANIE [3:21 AM]: Bathrrom

PETE [3:36 AM]: Did u leave

CORINNE [9:00 AM]: Call with NBC @ 1. Please be available. Corinne Roxford.

MISSED CALL: CORINNE

CORINNE [11:30 AM]: Confirming availability at 1pm. Corinne Roxford.

(212) 555-4325 [12:06 PM]: Hey gorgeous ;)

MISSED CALL [12:30 PM]: CORINNE

MISSED CALL [12:45 PM]: CORINNE

MISSED CALL [1:00 PM]: CORINNE

CORINNE [1:03 PM]: ??? Corinne Roxford.

MISSED CALL [1:05 PM]: CORINNE

CORINNE [1:07 PM]: Call immediately. Corinne Roxford.

“Hiiiii,” a soft, tired voice called from across the room. You looked up, squinting, at your best friend Natalie leaning in the doorway to the bathroom.

“Mmmm,” you hummed in response, peeking out from where you lay buried in the sheets. “Hi.”

She crossed the room, kicking piles of clothes out of the way and perched herself on the corner of the bed, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. You cracked open one eye, locking eyes with her. In an unspoken acknowledgment of your situation - what you got into last night, the state you’re currently in, the splitting headache you’re certain she has, too - you raised an eyebrow at her. She smirked back at you and the two of you erupted into laughter. You lifted yourself up to sit, pushing your foot into her side from under the covers.

“You were insane last night!” she accused, still smiling as she resumed brushing her teeth.

“Me!” your voice was raspy and you coughed. “Me? You were the one making out with the bartender.”

“He wasn’t a bartender. He said he was with the DJ or something.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s better,” you snorted, the sound muffled by the plush pillows that cradled your head. You rubbed your palms across your face again, feeling the coarse texture of your own tired skin. The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of morning seeping through the half-closed blinds.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, disrupting the quiet ambiance. You picked it up, groaning when you saw your manager’s name blaring across the bright screen. With a sigh, you slid it open.

“Hi, Corinne,” your voice was a hoarse whisper as you did your best to sound alive. Natalie stirred from her spot and crossed back to the bathroom, old floorboards creaking underneath her feet.

“I needed you on that call this morning. This is your career I’m trying to save here. Do you think I’m doing all of this for my health?”

“I mean… you’re not not…” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it. She is on your payroll.

“Very funny. I don’t think I need to remind you that you’re running out of friends and favors here, hun. I don’t think you want me to join that list.” Her sentence was punctuated by the sound of her horn honking and a muttered expletive. She sighs. “NBC still wants to speak with you, and soon, but they want to do a four-episode Growing special. The rest of the cast is on board, and they think if we play this right we can turn into a full-on reboot. But you have to straighten up, do you understand? I need you in the Santa Monica office first thing Monday to sign the paperwork.”

“I’ll be there. I promise.” Your eyes closed again, and you sunk into the plush embrace of the king-sized bed, the soft cotton fabric soothing against your skin.

“I don’t know how to make it any more clear to you how much trouble all of us are in. This is your shot at a comeback.”

“I understand.”

There’s a bit of silence, the noise of New York traffic floating through the airwaves and into your ear. You insisted on total honesty from Corinne, unable to tolerate your team coddling you, so her words might have hurt more if this was the first time you’d heard them. Or maybe if the haze you’d woken up in were a bit thinner.

“Tomlin and the team will be in on Thursday night to get you ready for the VMAs. I’ll see you then, too.” Corinne changed the subject, her voice a mix of stern professionalism and genuine concern.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Your voice was sickeningly sweet, a defensive baby voice you switched into when you were nervous, a trademark of yours that had been mocked by everyone from ex-boyfriends to the cast of Saturday Night Live. Corinne said goodbye and you felt Natalie’s weight return to your side.

You groaned, long and drawn out, tossing your phone into the labyrinth of sheets and blankets surrounding you. The show she referred to was a reboot of the sitcom you spent your childhood working on - Growing Together. It's one-half cast reunion, one-half desperate, nostalgic cash-grab. The producer you sat across from at the pitch meeting was almost delirious with excitement - explaining what a smashing success it was sure to be, a “televised homecoming for America's favorite family.” It took so much strength not to roll your eyes right in front of him that you thought you’d pop a blood vessel.

“Are you in trouble?” Natalie asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

"Yeah, almost always," you replied, casual in your admission. As you sat up, fully awakening, you stretched and planted your feet on the floor. You chugged the warm Vitamin Water on your nightstand before reaching for your bag on the floor and digging through its contents. Gum, a fluorescent orange paper wristband, a baby pink Juicy Tube, a black and white photobooth strip of you and Natalie with your tongues out. Not finding what you were looking for, you dumped it out onto your bed and continued rummaging through the items and garbage inside. Your iPod, a receipt from the drugstore, 3 loose cigarettes and half a dozen empty quarter-sized plastic bags. You sighed, shoving everything back inside carelessly.

“Did we finish everything last night?” You call out, patting the bed behind you, your gaze darting around in search of your phone.

“We?” Natalie’s laughter rang through the room. “I don’t know about ‘we!’”

“God, no wonder,” you muttered, the realization of this morning's particularly splitting headache dawning. Locating your phone again, you typed out a text message to your dealer, padding out of your room to the kitchen.

[5:13 PM]: Andyyyyyy. U going to Lush tonight?

You tapped the side of your phone restlessly for a beat, then texted again.

[5:13 PM]: Can you bring what u brought last night

In the kitchen, you opened the cabinet, revealing an array of neatly arranged pill bottles. Without looking, you pulled out a bottle of Advil and an empty glass. Seated at the kitchen table, engrossed in her Macbook, was your assistant, Rhea.

“Corinne’s pissed.” She said before she even looked at you, focused intently on the screen in front of her.

“Good morning,” you responded, filling your glass at the sink and beaming an exaggerated, pageant-queen smile at her. She scoffed in response.

“The sun is going down in… 40 minutes.” she retorted, her gaze flitting momentarily to the clock on the wall, then back down. You made a mockingly offended expression, hands lifting with dramatic flair.

“Time is a social construct, Rhea,” you declared, tossing back the Advil and chasing them with the full glass of water.

“Yeah, for you, maybe.” She muttered, still typing like a maniac.

You were fired six weeks ago.

The movie was meant to signal a departure for you, a leap into serious territory - a drama marking an overdue graduation from the teeny-bopper films you’d spent the last decade of your life making. You’d been lucky a year ago - a really excellent writer took a chance on an elevated high school comedy with you at the helm that had people in the industry, finally, taking you more seriously.

Seriously enough to get you in the door, at least. Being on set gave you a different impression. You felt as coddled as ever, still treated like an unqualified child star whose presence was more of a slightly annoying novelty than a creative asset.

You wanted to be treated like an adult - a real actress, a professional. This movie was supposed to accomplish that. Despite the fact that this project had a huge, award-winning director attached to it, it was subject to the same issues you’d experienced on countless, lower-tier productions. Poorly communicated call times, technical issues, handsy producers hanging around your trailer. The latter issue caused you to insist on Rhea being by your side whenever possible - power in numbers in an attempt to keep greasy Hollywood exec’s hands away from you.

You weren’t going out any more often than you usually did. Now that you were old enough to not have to sneak into clubs anymore, you were having fun. Though your evenings often bled into mornings, occasionally pushing the limits of your call times, it felt manageable. However, Corinne was relentless in reminding you of the stakes and your professional expectations: show up, behave, perform.

That morning, exhaustion hung over you more heavily than usual. The night before, you’d been out celebrating Natalie’s 23rd birthday. A friend of hers had just returned from Amsterdam and brought with him a bag of European ecstasy as a souvenir. After Le Deux closed, you threw an after party at the Chateau’s pool, you and Nat drank champagne on your floaties as the chemicals rushed through your systems. Your fingers dipped in and out of the heated pool, the two of you gossiping and giggling and floating along until the sun came up.

You were on set on time - early, in fact - but the MDMA had worn off and your energy was plummeting fast. You’d run through the scene several times with Rhea, but it didn’t seem to have helped much.

“Cut,” the director called out, sighing and stepping out from his position behind the camera. Your costar groans softly, standing up from his spot across from you and stepping away as the surrounding crew moves quickly to reset the scene.

“I’m sorry Alan,” you offered immediately as the director approached your mark. A makeup artist swoops in, tapping a brush to your under eyes.

“You’re furious with him, remember,” he coached you. “I understand it’s early, but I need you to manage to muster up some energy.”

You nodded, trying to focus despite the persistent buzzing in your head. “I’m really sorry.”

“I don’t need you to apologize to me like a punished child, I just need you to perform the way I’ve asked you to. Can you do that?”

"I'll get it right this time, I promise," you assure him softly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

He eyed you skeptically, his weaning lack of patience with you made clear by his expression.

“We’ll break for five.” He called out to the room, still staring at you as you stood up and shuffled off behind him.

Rhea arrived at your side with your cell phone and a Red Bull. You flip open the screen as you walk, quickly scrolling through your text messages and trying to distract yourself from your dull, nagging headache.

“That was okay, right?” You asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the uncertainty in your voice. “Is it as bad as he says?”

“You were fine,” Rhea’s voice was uncharacteristically high-pitched as she held out the straw of your energy drink in front of you. Her eyes flit back and forth, scanning the area, and her voice lowers into a whisper as she continues. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m tired,” You brushed her off, shaking your head and handing your phone back to her. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Rhea nods, a concerned eyebrow lifting as you arrive at your trailer. Everyone in your life was looking at you like that lately - as if doing anything less than completely coddling you would cause you to fly off the handle. The cautious glances, the careful choices of words, the subtle tiptoeing around your every move - especially from Rhea, who never gave a fuck about your feelings - it all grated on your nerves like an itch beneath the surface.

She held out her hand and you took it quickly, grabbing an orange bottle from her and slipping through the door of your trailer.

In your trailer, you sat at the vanity and closed your eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths before opening them and gazing at yourself in the mirror. You opened the bottle, pouring out two small pills on the counter in front of you. Scanning the surface quickly, you located a plastic card and pushed it against the pills with the ball of your hand. You pushed it again and again, finally finishing and scraping the excess powder from the card onto the table. Dragging the powder into two lines, you leaned down to inhale them and stood straight back up. You licked your finger and picked up the excess residue, pushing it into your gums and taking a couple more deep breaths to re-center yourself.

The acrid taste of the pills gave you a Pavlovian surge of energy, the anxious buzz in your chest subsiding and easing into a steady hum. You sat at the mirror, dragging a finger underneath your eye to wipe smudged eyeliner from your face. You sniffled, forcing the action into another deep breath and staring at yourself in the mirror. You belong here. You do. You know what you’re doing.

A sharp knock at the door pulled you back to reality with a jump.

“Jesus,” You called out “Alright, Rhea, one second!”

“It’s Alan. Open the door.”

Fuck. You frantically began cleaning the counter in front of you - slipping the credit card into your pocket and brushing your hands across the surface.

“Now!” Alan boomed from outside.

“Okay, okay!” You moved to the door and turned the lock, opening the door just enough for him to see you. You sniffled again, trying to camouflage the reaction with a cough. “Yes?”

Pushing the door firmly, Alan moved into your trailer, his body dwarfing yours in the small space.

“Listen to me,” he said, low but firm. “I’m done. I’m not doing this with you. I am not letting you fuck up my movie.”

“What?” You were dumbstruck.

“Don’t play dumb. Not now. You know exactly what I mean.” He was inches from your face now and getting angrier by the minute. You swallowed, desperately looking around for Rhea. Tears stung the corners of your eyes and you fought them, willing yourself not to blink.

“They’re prescribed,” you attempt. It doesn’t work.

“I don’t care what you do on your own time,” he continued “But this is mine. This is important to me and to everyone else out there whose livelihoods depend on this project, and I’m not going to let some spoiled, coked-out little actress spoil it.”

Your face burned with humiliation.

“Corinne fought hard to get you on this project. This was more of a fucking favor to her than you. But this movie does not live and die by your actions, do you understand me? You can kill yourself if you insist, but you will not pull my movie down with you. You’re fired.”

Your jaw dropped. You were unable to find words let alone choke them out. Rhea’s face was stark white when you spotted her just outside the door of your trailer, her cell phone firmly against her cheek, whispering into the receiver with her eyes wide.

“This is no longer viable for me or anyone else on this crew. I want you off my set now.”

You couldn’t move, your heart pounding in your chest. He stood there for another moment before exiting the trailer and slamming the door behind him. The force of the slam caused the door to open slightly, revealing Alan standing in front of Rhea.

“I don’t want to see you here again.” He said to her, loud enough for you to hear, his voice stern and uncompromising. “You’re lucky I don’t call the cops on you for bringing drugs on my set.”

You hung in the doorway as he stormed away, and as the room swirls into focus you see the eyes of the crew on you, their faces filled with curiosity and concern. Turning your head, you quickly blinked away your tears and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand.

Officially, you’d been let go due to ‘scheduling conflicts’. It was flimsy, Hollywood jargon for your star showing up fucked up, and unfortunately, the euphemism did little to quell the relentless scrutiny surrounding you.

Rhea had shown you the footage of you that began making the rounds after your firing was announced - a creepy, shaky video leaked by some PA of Alan berating you on set, cut with another clip of you walking around the soundstage. It was embarrassing - your hair was disheveled and you were pacing around in a way that looked strange out of context, but there wouldn’t have been anything interesting about it at all if the rumor hadn’t gotten out that you’d been fired for your drug use. Since then, the attention on you had been relentless.

The paparazzi had been a regular part of your life since you were a young teenager. It, generally, wasn’t as bad in New York, which is part of the reason why you preferred to stay there, but in LA it felt as if you were never more than a few feet from a camera.

When you were 16 and working on your first film after Growing Together ended, you started going to clubs with your coworkers. No one ever gave you any trouble, and you didn’t even start drinking until you were 18, but despite that, the mere optics of a child star reveling in nightlife proved a lucrative angle for the media to exploit.

Since then, you were followed almost constantly. Leaving home, returning, getting groceries, getting your nails done, driving through McDonald’s - flashing lights in the corner of your eye were such a regular thing that you barely even noticed it anymore. There were photographers you knew at this point, friendly ones who knew your angles and creepy ones who constantly tailed your car.

It’d never been like this before, though. Literal throngs of photographers showed up anywhere you went, watching you like hawks, all waiting to swoop in on the slightest slip up. Going shopping was an event that needed to be scheduled in advance, boutiques needing to be warned that you’d be coming in so that they could prepare to lock doors behind you. Every step, every breath, felt scrutinized and captured for public consumption, leaving you suffocated beneath the weight of it all.

You were so angry about being let go - your behavior, truly, was no different from what any other actor your age was doing. You partied with your friends, you were out late sometimes, but you knew you were a good actress. It had been your passion since you were a child, and it was beyond frustrating to hear people tell you they loved you and wanted to see you win and then have them turn against you the moment you made a mistake.

So, although you’d behaved and spent the first week or two lying low at the insistence of Corrine, you were over it now. You stayed in LA, uninterested or unwilling to go home to your family and friends in New York and explain to them what's been going on. You were going out with Natalie every night, usually to Le Deux or Lush or Teddy’s. You stayed out late and slept in late and generally just did your best to avoid confrontation with any paparazzi or journalists or producers you’d pissed off.

You weren’t lying to Alan when you told him you were only taking what had been prescribed to you. It just happened that a lot of things had been prescribed to you. Lately, you’d been alternating between Adderall and MDMA for the last week or so, making you too speedy and anxious to really dwell on the current state of your career. You were, admittedly, running through your prescriptions more quickly than usual, causing you to need to make some calls in order to fill in the gaps.

Throughout dinner, you anxiously slid the screen to your Sidekick open and shut, open and shut. You thumbed through the wheel of apps, trying to will into existence a text from Andy that didn’t seem to be coming. It’s not exactly like you expected rigid punctuality from the guy who sold you drugs, but his radio silence was making you antsy.

[9:05pm]: Hellooooooooo

Natalie exclaimed as a tray of shots was delivered to the table, echoed by the group of acquaintances that you met up with at Don Antonios, the restaurant you always went to before a night out. Eagerly, you took one off the tray, blindly grabbing another as you knocked the first one back. You chased that shot with the other, the warmth of the liquid making you feel more like a human being and less like a raw nerve.

Seated to your right in the booth was a girl you kind of knew. She was always hanging out on the fringes of your group, some friend of a friend of a friend who was for sure going home and telling everyone she partied with you. She’d been gawking at you all night, beady eyes locked on you since you sat down, craning her neck and sitting uncomfortably close to you, your dress pinned under her studded jeans. You’d been resisting the urge to ask her what the fuck her problem was for the better part of an hour. As the group around you became distracted by the arrival of the shots, you seized the opportunity to confront her.

“Can you please get off of my dress?” you spat.

Her eyebrows shot up as she took her eyes off of you for what felt like the first time that evening to look down, apologizing and scooching over. She had tall red stilettos on and, when she looked back up at you, you could see the smudged mascara on her eyelid. Just as you were going to take the opportunity to move away from her, she leaned over to talk to you over the noise that surrounded you.

“Sorry. Hey, I’m Katie.”

You grimaced, not in the mood to talk to this person.

“Hi.”

You turn away for a beat, but your attention is grabbed again by Katie’s voice lowly in your ear.

“Hey, I have Xanax, if you want one,” the offer took you by surprise, the prospect lighting you up immediately.

“Oh, my god, I love you,” you said, quickly turning towards her and extending your palm. “Please?”

Downers really weren’t your thing, even booze wasn’t your favorite, but this evening was going to turn from boring to maddeningly insufferable fast if you didn’t get your hands on something.

“I know someone who needs one when I see them,” she laughed, discreetly dropping two pills into your palm.

The clubs in LA were the same thing every time. You showed up in big black SUVs, posed and made nice for the photographers outside for a moment and then clamored inside towards the booth that was waiting for your party.

It felt like high school. Well, you assumed, since your high school experience took place entirely on set. You saw the same people everywhere, all scattered around the room, broken up into their own little cliques. All gossiping, the room alive with murmurs and whispers. Who’d just shown up? Who was fighting with who? Who’d stolen whose boyfriend? It all felt so juvenile, but not being here was worse, so you put up with it. The people changed, but not really - you usually ended up surrounded by the same cast of promoters, wannabe socialites and greasy LA club dudes, swapped out every couple weeks by stand-ins and understudies and new arrivals. They circled your table like vultures, mingled with one another and made use of your tab while you sat engrossed in your Sidekick.

The night became slightly more tolerable once you’d taken one of the bars Katie gave you, but you were still desperately trying to get a hold of a dealer. By the time you left the restaurant and were climbing into the backseat of your car to head to Lush, you’d even resorted to texting backup options, people you’d partied with once or twice who you suspected might be around.

Sinking into the plush booth, you let your head loll to the side, eyes shutting against the assault of strobing lights. The steady, pumping rhythm of the bass sent a rattle through your bones.

After a minute, Natalie's hand landed gently on your knee, snapping you back to reality.

“You okay, girl?” She asked. Her voice felt distant, barely audible over the pounding bass reverberating through the room. The glitter on her eyelids shimmered in the blue light, the only part of her face you could clearly make out in the shadowy corner of the booth.

“I’m fine,” you answered impatiently, kicking your feet up into the seat next to you. Just then, your phone finally buzzed, your heart skipping a beat as your dealer’s name flashed across the screen

ANDY [11:03PM]: not goin tonite

You scoffed, pausing for a second before furiously tapping out a response.

[11:03PM]: FUCK U ASSHOLE

You hit send and threw your phone into your purse with a huff. You were going to have to come up with something else. Or maybe just slit your wrists right here at the table instead.

You surveyed your group as bottle service brought two large bottles of tequila to your table along with a tray brimming with shots. knew all it would take was a couple hundred bucks from a photographer outside for them to spill about how you’d begged them for coke. They'd probably do it for free just for the attention. You'd already asked Katie, but all she had was Xanax and a joint, and Natalie would've let you know if she got a hold of anything else.

You started scanning the rest of the room, looking for anyone you knew. The club was packed, some sort of launch party that’d booked a huge DJ filling even the VIP section from wall to wall.

Suddenly, your attention was grabbed by the sound of a man shouting at the booth directly across from yours. He was the typical guy you'd find in places like this: a douchey-looking producer type, each of his arms wrapped around two miserable-looking models to his left and right. Intrigued, you followed his gaze to see who he was yelling at.

Oh, bingo.

Dieter Bravo. You recognized him instantly. An actor like you, you knew you’d seen him around at award shows and parties, but you’d never met. His reputation preceded him, though; you knew he partied, knew that he, too, had been let go from movies due to 'scheduling conflicts' more than once. You knew he’d been in trouble for drugs. Last you'd heard, he'd been in the news for cheating on his wife or something. You were certain that all it’d take was a little bit of flirting and buttering him up to get him to share whatever he had with you.

Without a word to anyone, you rose from your booth, ignoring Natalie's questioning as you strode towards Dieter's booth. Immediately, though, you lost your footing, lightheaded from standing up too quickly. You brushed it off, saved from a fall by someone at your booth. Straightening your dress, you grabbed a bottle of tequila before pivoting on your heel and starting back towards Dieter.

Dragged out against his will, Dieter was a guest of honor at a launch party for Elysium Fragrances, the cologne brand he’d shot a campaign for last year. His presence was requested tonight as a make-good for being a no-show at the launch of his own campaign, instead being spotted that evening by the California Highway Patrol speeding down the Pacific Coast Highway with a model in the passenger seat.

He’d been stopped by a cop as he attempted to pump gas, some asshole photographer seizing the opportunity to swoop in on the interaction and hurl all sorts of insulting names at his date. Dieter lost his patience, blowing past the cop to shove the paparazzo to the ground, shattering his camera in the process. He was arrested that evening on five charges - assault and battery, destruction of property, drunk and disorderly conduct, assault of an officer (come on) and, thanks to a thorough search of his car, possession with intent to distribute.

As his smug-faced mugshot circulated the tabloids, it eclipsed the glossy editorial photos that the brand had invested millions in. The extravagant campaign was reduced to a joke, its over-the-top glamour juxtaposed with candid snapshots of Dieter’s angry face shouting at the photographer.

Unbelievably, the brand hadn’t thrown him out then and there. He almost wished they had - he preferred the couple of nights he spent in jail to the following days spent in meetings, his team arguing with Elysium over their ability to sway this and use his reputation to their advantage. Ultimately, they maintained his status as a face of their brand as well as his 6 million dollar contract, with the stipulation that he shoot another campaign and make himself available for any event, launch or party the brand requested for the next year.

Being asked to party in exchange for six million dollars was a sweet deal - he understood that - but the reality of being a cosmetics brand’s puppet meant that he ended up at the same fucking parties week in and week out, always babysat by an appointed employee of the brand or, failing that, someone on his payroll.

Tonight was particularly torturous. The tabloids had latched onto the whispers of his crumbling marriage - rumors that were, fortunately or unfortunately, completely legitimate. Heidi was meant to be the one to tie him down, set him straight, clean him up. Their wedding photos looked like a fucking editorial, glossy photos ran with headlines predicting their domestic bliss. But a year and a half, a relapse, a DUI, and a string of affairs - all on his part - had shattered those illusions.

Last week, Dieter returned home from a 3-day bender to Heidi’s mother on the landing at the top of his stairs. She was screaming and hurling the contents of his closet at him, plus whatever else was within arms reach. Heidi, her once-bright eyes now dull with tears, cowered in a doorway behind her mother, slamming the door behind her when he called out in an attempt to reason with her. Her mom located his Oscar, hurling it towards his head with a warning to leave the house before she called the cops. He’d ducked just in time to avoid the statue concussing him, it instead crashing through the glass window of the door behind him.

The stories spread like wildfire, his team scrambling to reshape the narrative, casting Heidi as the cold, unfeeling spouse who couldn't handle his demons. They painted her as the villain, accusing her of rejecting him for his vices - after all, she knew who she married - all the while conveniently forgetting that she had stood by him through more than most people would be able to tolerate. It was an angle he wasn’t happy with; He may have been hedonistic but he wasn’t cruel. In the interest of giving her space and avoiding any additional negative attention sent her way, he moved out. He kept an apartment closer to town, and staying there made it that much easier to avoid any reminders of his failures.

The word on the poor, dejected husband had spread, causing every asshole he ran into tonight to look at him with the same pathetic, sympathetic expression. He resented their pity. He resented this party, this club, his obligation to be seen holding some stupid bottle of cologne in order to maintain his career. The four whiskies he'd downed had done little to numb him from it, and even the lines he'd snorted on the way over had failed to dull the edges of this evening.

You’d stumbled in about an hour ago, perching yourself in the booth across from his own. Your eyelids were heavy in a familiar way, his dirtbag instincts making him suspect you’ve popped a painkiller in addition to whatever you’ve been drinking. A group of giggly, hungry hangers-on swarmed around your table like flies, posing for pictures and parting only to let bottle service in and out.

Dieter knew you - or at least, he knew of you. The cute little starlet who always popped up next to him in the tabloids. He’d seen you in enough movies and on enough billboards to recognize your face, and he’d lurked around clubs like this often enough to have seen you before. Before you’d walked in, he’d resigned himself to an armchair as far back in the VIP section as he could find, determined to wait out the evening before bringing home whatever model ended up in his car. The whiskey he’d been drinking was only just beginning to kick in and he didn’t fight it, leaning back and willing the time to pass faster. But you… you were interesting.

Your gorgeous legs were stretched out along the booth, climbing up to the hem of your dress, a pink silky thing he imagined he could tear off of you with the smallest amount of force. Glossy lips pouted at your phone, eyebrows furrowed in a sweet little frustrated expression. When you looked up he didn’t look away - he kept his eyes trained on you as you looked around the room. You were looking for someone, obviously restless. A boyfriend? The thought twisted at his stomach uncomfortably and he willed himself to stop watching you, putting his glass to his mouth and draining it with a single swallow.

“Bravo!” a voice bellowed from his left, snapping him out of it. Clint - some hack from Elysium Fragrances and tonight’s designated narc waved enthusiastically from the booth next to him. “You gonna sit there and fuckin’ mope all night, bro?”

Fuck this guy. Like most of his brand-approved chaperones, he was content to accept the babysitting opportunity and spend the evening running up Dieter’s tab and shamelessly hitting on the girls at his table. The least he could do would be to leave him the fuck alone.

His attention returned to you when he heard a commotion from your direction. There you were, knees buckled, held at your elbow by one of the guys surrounding your booth. A couple of cell phone cameras lift and snap photos behind you as you attempt to compose yourself. He can’t take his eyes off of you as you stand back up, adjusting yourself, your little dress riding up for just a moment before you smooth it back into place.

The bottle he’d finished had begun to cloud his vision, so it took him a moment to realize you were stumbling towards him, your plush lips slightly parted as you swung a bottle of tequila at your side. Despite the haze, your smile was unmistakable as you arrived at his chair. When you held up the bottle with a subtle lift of your eyebrow, he nodded in agreement.

He wasn’t entirely sure if you climbed into his lap or if you simply floated there, an ethereal presence that captivated his senses. You were such a gorgeous little thing, soft legs draping over him effortlessly, while your electric fingertips traced delicate patterns along his arms.

“Where’ve I met you before?” You slurred, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt as you settled in his lap.

You were fucked up. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now. Good - he was, too. His plan had been to leave, get one of the models at his table to come home and roll over for him without much effort, but passing the evening with someone in his same state of mind would spare him from having another dull fucking conversation tonight. Plus, you were so pretty, big black pupils dilated and fixed on him beneath the lazy black fan of your eyelashes.

“You tell me,” he answered, running his finger along the rim of his glass.

Did you know who he was? He goes along with your guesses as to where you’d met before. Miami, London, the Met, whatever you said, as long as you didn’t piece together that you know him from a TV show that aired when you were still in middle school.

Music blasted through the speakers surrounding you, strobe lights flashing and highlighting flecks of glitter on your shoulders. He lifted his hand to run his finger along the thin strap of your dress as you lifted the bottle up between you and raised your eyebrows in question. He nodded, holding up his empty whiskey glass.

“Glastonbury?” You asked as you filled his glass.

“That must be it,” he agreed, knowing he hadn’t been to Glastonbury since 1995, and clinked his glass against your bottle. He watched as you took a long draw from the mouth and could see the grimace you were holding back as you squinted, your throat bobbing as you swallowed. He followed your lead, emptying his glass in three big gulps. Your eyes flitted over momentarily to the group he came with, crowded around the booth to his left, then back to him.

“You alone?” You asked him, glossy lips smirking.

“Just like you.”

You let out a knowing chuckle and leaned in closer to him, tequila and lime and smoke on your breath as it mingled with his own. The way you dragged your lower lip through your teeth had his cock twitching, the combination of the chemicals in his system and you purring in his lap like a kitten destroying any shred of inhibition he had left.

There’s an acknowledgment between people like you and Dieter. It’s one of those things that doesn’t lend itself to description, but he knew it when he saw it - in the mirror, in friends and acquaintances and enemies, in blown-up photographs on the covers of tabloids, suicides and DUIs announced in newsstands. Raw nerves covered in glitter, celebrity or civilian, death drives winning over life drives every time. He saw it in your dilated pupils and the way your thighs were rubbing together, the silk of your dress doing nothing to hide it. You’re like him, too, and most importantly, you know better than to ask why.

His hand cupped your face before he realized he’d done it and he closed the space between you, your lips soft against his the next sensation he was aware of. You tasted good, and he wanted more right away, deepening the kiss and digging his fingers into your thigh forcefully. He ran his tongue along the seam of your mouth, his own lips going numb as he licked into yours. He pulled you up to straddle him and you moved easily, hips lowering onto him immediately and settling, the lace of your panties brushing up against the thin fabric of his pants. His mouth trailed to your ear, worrying your earlobe between his teeth and guiding your hips to roll against his crotch again and again.

“You don’t give a fuck, do you?” He said, his voice low and hoarse in your ear. He knew you had the attention of his group and your own, not to mention anyone else who happened to look over, but it didn’t seem to matter to you. He knew you’d been in trouble lately - the same limelight, coming-of-age growing pains he’d been through himself several years ago - and his own instincts threatened to kick in and shield you from the excess attention.

You laughed with a shake of your head, tossing your hair over your shoulder and, without looking away from him, lifted his hand from your thigh to your lips, dragging your tongue across the length of his index finger and popping it into your mouth.

Oh, you were fun. You were already making him hard, and he knew you could feel it as you grinded into him again and again, letting his finger drop from your mouth when he pressed his lips back to yours. He needed to be careful - the linen lounge pants he’d thrown on to come here would betray nothing if you kept it up much longer.

It’s a noticeable absence when you hum and pull away from the kiss, the urge for more of you rolling over him and causing his fingers to dig into your thighs possessively.

“Do you have anything… funner?” You asked, big, blown out eyes pleading as you lifted the tequila bottle up again. Aha. It just so happened he did - a baggie of coke he’d brought along just in case sat in his pocket, along with two tabs of acid. It didn’t seem like that kind of night, though, at least not yet. He’d stick with the coke.

“I might have something,” he replied, a genuine smirk spreading across his face for the first time that evening. He sat up straight, smacking your ass and biting your jawline at the same time, the yelp it pulled from you quickly transforming into a wild giggle and sending a rush of blood to his cock as he peppered kisses and bites down your neck to your collarbone.

Quickly, he helped you to your feet and guided you through the crowded room, following you across the floor, his index finger linked with your pinky, prying eyes and pointing fingers meaningless to the both of you. You may have been stumbling, but you were confident. Or at least not at all concerned. A camera phone at the bar flashed and Dieter instinctively ducked his head, moving a hand to your hip to rush you forward and out of sight.

Tucking into a hallway at the back of the club, he kicked a door open and hurried you inside a small, dark room. It was clearly an employee restroom, high piles of backstocked paper towels and toilet paper toppling over when he pushed you up against the wall harshly, his hands cupping your face, the cool metal of his rings pressed against your cheek.

He pulled a pink baggie out of his shirt pocket, opened it and tapped a bump of white powder out onto the skin between his thumb and index finger. He held it up to your nose and, without any question about what it was, where he got it or if he’d already tried it, you’d inhaled, one hand holding his steady while the other held your nostril closed.

Fucking finally. Your head lit up immediately with euphoria and relief as the amphetamines rushed through your system and you melted against Dieter as he lifted you to perch you on a stack of cardboard boxes.

You let him move you like a rag doll, smiling as he propped you back and tapped out two more bumps onto your chest and snorted them, running your fingers through his messy curls as he dragged his tongue along your cleavage, licking up what was left.

His lips found yours again, and the pungent taste of the powder on his tongue mingling with his taste drew you in closer. Looping your arm around his neck, your free hand clutched his bicep. The acrid taste turned pleasantly tingly on your tongue, a numbness spreading as it explored his mouth.

“Here, baby,” he urged, breaking the kiss breathlessly, and you hummed in response as he tapped out another bump on the back of his hand. You inhaled it again, then he used his finger to gather the remnants of the powder. Cupping your cheek firmly, your jaw relaxed under his touch as he rubbed the excess powder into your gums. You reacted instantly, closing your eyes and drawing his finger deeper into your mouth, succumbing to the rush of sensation.

He groaned in approval, your lips already open when he kissed you again, drawing him in for more, thighs parting to wrap your legs around him. The flimsy strap of your dress fell off your shoulder, the fabric across your chest following shortly after.

Blissfully content with the relief of the chemicals rushing into your bloodstream for the first time today, you went numb, rolling your head back and watching patterns dance behind your eyelids. You allowed Dieter to touch and move you at his will, his hands skillfully brushing the other strap of your dress off your shoulder, exposing your chest completely. A throaty moan escaped him at the sight, the gentle sway of your breasts moving with the rhythm of the rough push of his hips into yours. He drew you closer, his lips finding purchase on your skin. Roughly latching onto you, he drew your breast into his mouth, his tongue drawing circles around the peak of your nipple before switching to the other side of your chest.

Sparks shot down your spine and your mind went blank for a second, lost in the feeling of him against you, the synapses in your brain firing and lighting up. You snapped back into the moment when you felt him grasp your hand with his own, his fingers intertwined with yours. He guided you down to press your hand into his crotch, grinding the firm length of himself into your hold again and again.

A soft moan escaped your lips, surrendering to the warmth and pressure of his body against yours. You tightened your grip around his neck, allowing yourself to fully yield to his control, your body pliant and responsive to his every move.

You’d fuck him, you figured, as you moved against him. He was good looking - now that you were feeling a little less edgy, you could appreciate it. Corinne would kill you if word got out, but he seemed like someone who knew a thing or two about discretion. He stiffened even more as he firmly thrusted into the cradle of your hand and you cupped your fingers around his length, the soft fabric of his pants allowing you to feel him completely. You walked your fingers up to his waistband, nails dipping under the fabric and pulling at it slightly. You’d go home with him. Whatever. You’d bring Natalie with you and you could leave by morning. He probably wouldn’t even notice a missing gram or two.

You followed the thought as he trailed kisses up your chest and neck, finally settling at your ear. His hand rose up your thigh, thick fingers dragging along the lace fabric at your center. The bundle of nerves there erupted at his touch and your thighs instinctively squeezed around him.

“Let me taste you, baby, please,” He growled just above a whisper into your ear. You arched your back into his arms, moaning and nodding in agreement, the cool porcelain of the sink underneath you causing your skin to goosebump as your dress rode up further. You opened your eyes, peeking at the chestnut brown curls, the color blending into the dark room surrounding you. Your eyelids felt heavy, and you fought to keep them open, wanting to stay present with him. But the warmth of his breath against your skin and the gentle touch of his fingers on your cheeks were lulling you somewhere else. You felt like you were floating, your vision blurred at the edges and you fluttered your eyes shut again, feeling his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and stall there for a moment.

Your fading in and out like that threatened to spook him away. You couldn’t be too fucked up. He lightly tapped your cheeks a couple of times, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Stay with me, baby," he whispered urgently. "Gotta hear you say it."

“Mmmm,” Dazed, faraway eyes looked up at him, your blown-out pupils mirroring his own. You nodded again, dragging your teeth along your bottom lip. Your pulse raced between your legs, and you felt your hips moving towards him, trying to ride something that wasn’t there yet. “Do it, Dieter, please.”

There we go. He smirked, lifting you from the stack of boxes to push you up against the wall and sinking to his knees. He bunched up the fabric of your dress at your hips, roughly pulling your panties down your legs, the black fabric hanging loosely at one ankle as he lifted your leg to hang over his shoulder.

You shrieked when he slid his tongue through your folds, your knee buckling when he repeated the motion, his strong hands moving up to your hips to support you. His tongue pushed wide against you, him tasting and exploring you as his fingers dug into your hips with bruising force.

He felt fucking amazing. You typically hated when men touched you, especially when you were high, but he felt incredible. You’d give him anything. Despite your rapidly dulling senses, the feeling of his tongue working your clit back and forth was at the front of your mind. He pushed his tongue wide against you again and again, fucking two thick fingers up into you without warning.

You gasped, your mouth opening wide as you root your fingers into his hair to ground yourself. He wanted to wreck you completely, to smear the dark makeup around your eyes and watch that glossy mouth of yours stretch around his cock. His lips locked around your clit, and as the blood rushed to the bundle of nerves there you threw your head back, chest heaving, loud, wretched moans spilling from your throat.

With your senses dulled, he knew it’d take a little more to send you over the edge. A third finger pushed into you with a stretch, starting slow and working up to get in and out of your tight, soaked cunt. You moved your hips to match his rhythm, your pace hiccuping as he began working you faster and faster, working your clit between his teeth with a pinch.

Your moans were frantic, hitching higher and higher as he confidently worked you towards an orgasm, your surroundings blurring and swirling around you.

THUD, THUD, THUD. Just as you neared your release, a loud pounding at the door shattered the moment.

He groaned in frustration, pausing briefly before attempting to resume. You struggled to regain your focus, your chest heaving with heavy breaths, nerves coiled tightly at your core.

The knock was followed by a muffled argument and the clanking of keys from the other side of the door. Reluctantly, Dieter's head emerged from between your thighs.

“Fucking assholes,” Dieter grumbled in frustration as he stood up, moving the straps of your dress back up your shoulders and quickly adjusting himself. You steadied yourself with a hand on his shoulder as you pulled your panties back up, frustration pounding angrily between your legs.

“Find me, alright?” He breathed, smoothing out your dress, his hand lingering on your ass and eyes slowly moving up your body. “I’ll take you home.”

You nodded as the door was thrown open, the bright, white light of a flashlight shining into the small room. You stood up straight, quickly fixing your hair in the mirror and sneakily grabbing the small, plastic baggie Dieter left on the counter, hiding it in your fist behind your back.

“Let’s go. Knock this shit off,” a voice bellowed from behind the light, which darted back and forth between you and Dieter. “We’re not doing this in my fucking club, get the fuck out, let’s go!”

“What the fuck is this?” Dieter asks, moving to stand in front of you and block you from the bright light.

“I’m sorry, man, I tried to stop him,” Another voice followed from outside the room. You squinted and peeked over Dieter’s shoulder, annoyance showing on your face. A large bald man in a suit held the flashlight and to his right was the small, douchey-looking guy you recognized from Dieter’s booth. Natalie’s head popped up behind the both of them, looking relieved to have found you.

“You’re not doing drugs on my floor and fucking little girls in my bathroom. That’s it, Bravo. Get the fuck out of here, let’s go,” the angry man repeated. Dieter raised his hands and murmured an apology to you as he shuffled out, one hand poised defensively in front of his face. He pushed out of the room past Natalie, her brows furrowed at him in confusion as he passed. His counterpart flocked to his side, immediately rushing into what sounded like a flurry of explanations and reassurances. Natalie slid into the room smoothly, wrapping an arm around you to usher you out. You stumbled at her side, annoyed and disoriented.

“I’m TWENTY-TWO, ASSHOLE!” You screamed at the man with the flashlight, attempting to shove him with your balled-up fists. He raised his eyebrows, bald head wrinkling and frown deepening. Natalie pulled you away from him quickly and you could hear her apologize behind you. “Don’t tell’um sorry, Nat, ’m not fucking sorry, I was in the fucking bathroom!” you slurred, your voice disjointedly raising and lowering in pitch.

“C’mon, babe, let’s go,” Natalie urged you.

“Yeah, ’s get the fuck outta here,” you agreed, stumbling as she shepherded you out. She handed you your purse and you quickly shoved your hand inside, dropping the half-empty baggie into the side pocket. One or two flashing lights from the crowd gathered at the bar stole your attention for a moment, but it quickly returned to the big, bald, interrupting gorilla with the flashlight. “This place SUCKS!” you screamed as you began to turn back towards him, leashed by Natalie’s grip around your arm.

“Let’s go,” she repeated firmly. You followed her through the crowded bar, stomping across the floor and ignoring the unending stream of heads turning towards you. The two of you shoved out the heavy metal doors of the club, clicking and flashbulbs immediately erupting around you as the cool evening air breezed across your skin. Your name was shouted from your left and right as Natalie dug in her bag for the valet ticket.

“Having fun tonight?” A photographer asked. You rolled your eyes. “Alright, over here, honey,” the same voice continued. With a resigned sigh, you turned to offer a practiced pose, your mind ticking through your media training despite how fucking annoyed you were. Stumbling a couple of times as you attempted to maintain your balance, you moved through a lazy pose or two. You knew the routine - let them get their shot and maybe they'll back off.

“Partying tonight?” Another voice interjected. Moron.

Natalie finally located the ticket and the valet handed the keys over immediately, your car already parked and waiting curbside. Impulsively, you decided you’d drive, intercepting the keys before Natalie could take them and nearly smacking them out of the attendant’s hand before stumbling towards the vehicle.

“She’s not getting in the driver’s seat. No way,” reasons the voice of a man with a video camera to your left. “There’s no way!”

Another blinding eruption of flashing lights emerged around you. You stared down at your feet as you stumbled forward, trying to see where you were walking through the relentless assault of flashbulbs. Natalie called out your name from behind you. You struggled a couple of times with the handle before throwing the car door open heavily.

“Hey, you can’t drive, honey,” Another voice called out. You rolled your eyes.

You climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut, exhaling loudly as the noise of the chaos surrounding you finally muffled. Flashing lights continued, your windshield now completely blocked by cameras. The volume raised again for a moment, a cacophony of voices and camera clicks, as Natalie scrambled into the passenger seat beside you.

“Are these people serious,” you asked, angling your head in towards Natalie and shielding your eyes from the barrage of flashbulbs pointed at you, frustration mounting with each flash. “How’m I supposta drive when they’re fucking blocking me?”

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t.” Natalie said, concern in her voice. “Let me, okay?”

You shook your head adamantly. “’M not going back out there.”

“So climb over,” She suggested.

“Not in this!”

Natalie let out an exasperated sigh, her fingers tapping anxiously on her thighs.

“Hey, since when do you know Dieter Bravo?” She asks, momentarily changing the subject.

“Who? Oh,” you replied, the question registering with you once you answered. The reminder of him sent your attention between your legs and you shifted slightly in your seat. “I dunno. I know’hm from an awards thing.” You offered. It was an unconvincing lie, but Natalie didn’t fight you on it.

“He’s so random,” she laughed. “I can’t believe you hooked up with him. I think my older sister had a poster of him in high school. Right next to River Phoenix.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, everything about this evening now pissing you off. The incessant clicking of the paparazzi's cameras only added fuel to the fire, and you narrowed your eyes in irritation, slamming your hand down on the horn for a solid ten seconds in a futile attempt to disperse them.

“MOVE!” you yelled, only inciting more flashing lights.

“Let me drive, babe,” Natalie tried again.

“Oh, my god, fuck this,” you snapped, frustration finally boiling over. With your hand still shielding your eyes, you shifted the car into drive. “You're my eyes now.”

“What?! No!” She replied, her voice rising in panic.

“Be my eyes. I’m going.” You repeated. Very slowly, you eased your foot off the brake, the car beginning to inch forward. Voices clamored outside the vehicle.

“Oh my god, um, okay. Go slow. Turn left. Slow!” Natalie began to guide you. The crowd cautiously parted around the car, photographers scrambling to avoid being flattened while still unwilling to sacrifice this shot. “Oh my god, this is so stupid. Slow, slow, slow.”

“They’re fuckin’ stupid! What am I supposed to do?”

“No, yeah, okay, just slow, keep going left.” Natalie's voice trembled slightly as she continued to navigate. The relentless barrage of flashing lights illuminated the interior of the car, casting everything in stark, blinding brightness. “Okay, cut it! Cut it and keep going straight.”

You cut the wheel to the right and straighten it out, cautiously peeking through the gaps in your fingers to confirm you'd cleared the throng of photographers.

“Haha!” you exclaimed, your laughter echoing through the tense air as you slammed the gas pedal to the floor once the street ahead is clear. With a screech of tires, you peel off into the night, Natalie's nervous chuckles mingling with your own laughter. “Bye, assholes!”

You rocketed down Highland with reckless abandon. A couple of familiar vehicles creeped up behind you - regular photographers who paid their bills by stalking you. The driver to the left’s hand hung out the window, a digital camera pointed squarely at you. The light was yellow at the intersection in front of you and you smirked, not letting up on the gas and rolling your window down to flip off the camera as you raced through the intersection just as the light turned red.

“Slow down!” Natalie yelled, panicked, her hand clutching the door handle in a white-knuckled grip. “What is your problem?”

“My problem?! These guys are the ones with the problem,” you fired back, your tone frustrated. “I can’t do anything without getting fucking cornered!” Your car veered dangerously across the yellow lines and Natalie yelped. You overcorrected, the vehicle lurching back into its lane just in time to avoid a collision with an oncoming car, its horn blaring in warning. Natalie’s body stiffened further in her seat as you took a wide right turn onto Sunset. You turn on the radio, a Rihanna song picking up midway through.

“Did he give you something?” she shouted, her tone urgent. You furrowed your brow, shooting her a confused look. “Dieter,” she clarified.

“Oh, right!” you exclaimed, mood shifting as you suddenly remembered the baggie tucked in your purse. “Look what I got us!” You reached for your bag on the passenger floorboard, swerving again. Natalie lunged across the seat, her hands fumbling for the wheel to correct your course, while a chorus of horns blared from the vehicles behind you. Finally retrieving your purse, you fished out the baggie from the side pocket and held it up between your fingers for Natalie to inspect. She grabbed it from you quickly, examining it in her lap.

“What is it?” She asked. You shrugged.

“Coke, I think. Shit, hold on,” you floored the gas to race through another newly red light.

“Stop!” Natalie shrieked. “This is so fucking stupid, dude, let me drive!”

“Jesus, Nat, fine,” you groan, slamming on the brakes. You both jolted forward as the car came to a stop in the middle of the road. “You wanna drive so bad, fine.”

You unlocked the car doors, opening yours slightly and reaching down to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Are you serious?” She scoffed, disbelief etched across her features as she surveyed the chaotic scene unfolding around you. You nodded in affirmation, a defiant smirk playing on your lips. “You’re such a bitch.”

With a surge of stubborn adrenaline, you stormed out onto Sunset Boulevard, Natalie following suit. The gray Honda belonging to one of the persistent photographers tailed you, coming to a halt beside you as the driver scrambled out, camera at the ready.

“LEAVE ME ALONE” you shouted. “I gave you your shot at the club, I’ve been nice to you guys, what more do you want?!”

You considered what it would take to get him to go away. Words weren’t working. Should you kick his car? Throw something? You began to stumble towards him, interrupted by Natalie yelling your name again. You turned around to see Natalie standing in the street, gaze fixed on the intersection ahead. Your car - which you apparently failed to put into park - was rolling into the intersection on its own.

With a frantic surge of panic, you and Natalie sprinted after the runaway vehicle, the strobe of camera flashes behind you incessant. Arms flailing, you both desperately signaled to other drivers to stop, your heels clattering against the pavement as you raced towards the car.

As the car veered left, you were powerless to stop it from crashing into a parked BMW at the corner. Rushing to catch up, you flung yourself into the open driver's door, slamming on the brakes and throwing the gear into reverse. You leaned across the cab to fling the passenger door wide open.

“Come on!” You shouted at Natalie as she climbed back into the car. With a tense exhale, you navigated the car backward, turning wide in the intersection before screeching forward.

Your mind was completely clear with pure adrenaline. You were only a few blocks away from the hotel now, the castle-shaped outline shrouded in trees just ahead on your right. You floored it, a tense silence hanging in the car, both you and Natalie’s eyes locked forward on the road in front of you.

Only slowing down to make a right turn into the hotel driveway, you didn’t bother waiting for the valet. Tossing your keys onto the driver’s seat, you left the door ajar as you stormed through the garage toward your room, ready to put this evening behind you.

#blind item #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo x reader #putting this out into the world and definitely also shitting bricks

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octuscle · 1 year

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Alexander Ristor was perfect. The perfect body, the perfect skin, the perfect hair, he was simply flawless. And thanks to his father's fortune, he had the perfect life, too. Although he had never worked or studied, through generous donations he had reasonably presentable high school and college degrees. And his family's connections had also been a catalyst for his career as an influencer. Although he did nothing but travel the world First Class, do shopping, and work out and take care of his body, by the time he was 25 he already had thousands of followers. And while from the beginning his mother had had to secretly pay for hotels and restaurants so that Alexander felt he was getting everything for free as a social media star, by now many doors actually opened by themselves if he just approached them.

Alexander surfed through Instagram, bored. He was starting to get bored in Vienna. He was on a European tour, it was spring, and it was too cold for him in Austria. Going a little more south, working on his tan, now that would be cool. But all the destinations that came to mind when he looked at Google Maps seemed hackneyed. Croatia, Montenegro, Albania. All water under the bridge. All the C-class celebrities had already been there. But what was this northern Macedonia? Skopje? Almost all the posts on Instagram were from locals. Looked interesting enough. In fact, there was also a Hilton. Looked pretty old-fashioned. But he had an advertising contract with them, so he could stay there for two nights. Maybe he could find something better locally. Or he could still travel on to Kotor on the Mediterranean if he didn't like it in Skopje. A few hours later, his two big RIMOWA suitcases were packed and a limousine took him directly to the first class terminal of the Vienna airport.

Saturday

The Hilton was really not to his liking… A proper chain hotel. Not a boutique hotel secret tip that his followers loved him for. But for a few selfies at the bar, in the room and in the lobby, it would be enough for him to get out of here without a bill. Only for his daily workouts did he need something else. The gym at the hotel was unacceptable. Since he had already failed to work out yesterday, he had the concierge recommend a gym nearby. And headed straight for it with his gym bag.

The gym was surprisingly good. A former school high school gym, where high tech and shabby chic met. Well, the audience was different than at home in New York, but he would look all the more radiant on his contributions. So he stood at the counter and said he'd like to work out for the next few days. The employee at the counter, whose name tag said his name was Atanas, obviously didn't know him. Sure, that was a problem if you were a social media pioneer in the province… Atanas realized that he had to make a special effort with the customer. Only, unfortunately, he spoke very broken English. But at least he had understood that the handsome man in front of him was called Aleksandar. He didn't understand the last name… But it sounded something like Ristovski, the name of the captain of the national team. So he entered that. Date of birth? He could only guess… But he guessed well and made Alexander just about half a year older. And for the address Atanas simply entered the address of his mother's guesthouse, nobody would check that. Especially not the customer in front of him, who looked incredulously at the text written in Macedonian on the display and then signed on the input field without checking anything. Atanas took another photo of the customer, saved the entry in the customer file and coded the wristband that could be used to open doors and lockers in the studio.

He had no idea what the employee at the counter wanted from him. But somehow it all worked out and after only fifteen minutes Alexander had received a very cool looking wristband and quickly understood that it worked for checking in and opening the doors. With hands and feet, communication worked even in the middle of nowhere… After changing clothes and styling his hair, Alexander checked his accounts again. He was now 4:15 pm. So he could work out, take a few pictures while he was at it, edit them back at the hotel, change, and then hit the nightlife. But now let's get to the weights.

After three hours of training Alexander was exhausted. Shit, he had totally forgotten the time. But the workout had been awesome. It had been a long time since he had had so much fun pushing his body to the limits. So there was just a selfie of him with sweaty hair and sweaty T-shirt. And a succinct caption, "Best workout ever," along with the name of the gym. Strange, why did he have a three-day beard…?

Sunday

The night had been fun, there was no other way to put it. The afterlife of Skopje could not be compared to that of Vienna. As usual, his posts had had hundreds of likes after a very short time. And there had been a lot of likes from locals as well. He must have collected some new followers tonight. He was a little surprised about some comments about his new style. Okay, he didn't shave every day since he was here. And when you party hard, your hair doesn't always sit perfectly either. But new style…? He thought it was over the top.

Before he wanted to look at the city a little, Alexander wanted to work out a little in any case. So he went directly unshowered with only once combed hair to breakfast. Around him sat many festively dressed people. Probably locals who went to Sunday brunch. Because of his careless dress and perhaps also because of the smell his sports bag gave off, Alexander received one or two reprimanding looks. All weaklings, he thought, as he ate his bowl of scrambled eggs and the three chicken breasts for breakfast.

Atanas and Alexander greeted each other with a ghetto fist. The prepared protein shake was already waiting. Alexander appreciated how quickly his workout routine was addressed here. And thank God he could exchange a few words of Macedonian with the staff and the other guys on the training floor. And he understood a little Albanian, at least. His grandmother had sometimes sung him a few folk songs she knew from her North Macedonian mother, so a little had stuck.

Communication with Atanas was still complicated, however. He probably wanted to say something to him when Alexander left the studio at 5:00 p.m. after a hard workout, sauna and a shower. And after some time he understood that Atanas invited him to move out of the expensive and uncool Hilton and move into his mother's guesthouse. Great idea, that would certainly go down better in his stories than pictures from an interchangeable hotel bar. Nevertheless, Alexander spent the evening at the hotel. After all, he owed the hotel a few posts. And he didn't feel like going out clubbing after the day was over.

Monday

He did not have to shave today… The beard had a good seven-day length and still looked reasonably well-groomed. But he could go to the barber again, the last haircut should be a month and a half ago. So it had to be enough to tame the hair back with plenty of gel. He stuffed his clothes into his suitcases and went for a quick breakfast before checking out. After devouring his mountain of scrambled eggs, the waiter pointed out to him to please not wear a tank top to breakfast next time. There won't be a next time, Alex replied in his broken Macedonian and wiped off the rest of the scrambled eggs with his forearms. The front desk employee also smiled somewhat painedly when he pointed out his partnership with Hilton while paying the bill. The lady said they were tasked with telling Alex that the quality of his posts had fallen below the usual standard and they were considering discontinuing the partnership. Normally, Alex would have raved now, but he didn't care about the Hilton at all. Nevertheless, still posted a selfie with him and the reception team on Instagram. And immediately came the reactions:

"When did you stop shaving your armpits, Alexander?" "Bro, you're working out more than usual!" "Sun's out, guns out"

And many posts were in Macedonian and Albanian, which is also where most of the likes came from.

Atanas and Alex went to the barber together after the training. This was also a cool experience, making a post from this was much funnier than from drinking cocktails at the hotel bar. And the pictures he posted online of Atanas and himself went down especially well with his followers from the Balkans. With their trimmed full beards and shaved bald heads, the two looked almost like siblings.

When they had heaved Alex's luggage up the stairs to the guesthouse and Atanas introduced Alex to his mother, Alex silently cursed his mother. While she had grown up bilingual in Albanian and English, they spoke almost no Albanian at home. Now he would have needed more than the smattering he had learned from his Tirana-born grandmother. But at least his Macedonian was already quite passable, so that a simple conversation was already quite possible. His room in the guesthouse was great. Actually a separate apartment with a small kitchen and a balcony under the roof. Wonderful view over the city. And very comfortably furnished. He could leave his dirty laundry directly with Atanas' mother. And before they moved around the houses, Atanas lent Alex some of his things. The two spent the evening with some friends. Hardly anyone spoke English, but as training for his language skills this was perfect. And in fact, hardly anyone thought that the muscular guy in the soccer jersey and track pants could be American.

Tuesday

Part of the deal with Atanas' mother was that in the morning after breakfast, before he went to training with Atanas, he would collect the garbage in the rooms of the guesthouse and take everything to the dumpster around the corner. Easy money, Alex thought to himself… And the rest of his lodging he worked off by picking up guests (especially those from abroad) from the airport or train station and bringing them to the guesthouse. In the meantime he got along quite well with the old Skoda in the city traffic of Skopje. No one was arriving or departing today, so Atanas and Alex were able to work out together at the gym before Atanas' shift. And Alex spent the afternoon working on the guesthouse's social media presence. He was so not interested in the comments on his own account right now.

Wednesday

By now Aleksandar had been in his mother's country for three months. He couldn't understand why he had waited so long to come here. It was good that he had been so well received by Atanas and his family, it was enormous luck. His mother was also overjoyed with the situation. In the morning, when he left for the wholesale market at the crack of dawn, he always called home to wish his mother in New York a good night. It was a young tradition, but one he enjoyed. And sometimes he would have a few words with his father, who still viewed his activities with some suspicion. But that he made his mother happy, made his father happy too.

After carrying the fresh groceries to the cellar, Aleksandar usually went straight to work out. He enjoyed it when the gym was still empty. Besides, he always had to spend more time in the afternoons with Atanas' and his online supplement business. As his own successes as a heavyweight bodybuilder grew, so did the demand for his own products. And today he also had to go shopping himself. After hardly anything of his old clothes fit anymore, Atanas' sister had sold everything at the weekly market. Mila had great talent in such things and had made a good profit. And with that Aleksandar went shopping. He didn't need much. During the day, in the summer, an undershirt and a pair of training pants were enough. For the evenings, or when he had to work at the guesthouse, he bought a few pairs of jeans and some black and white shirts. The picture of him doing a double biceps pose with a bursting new shirt led to enthusiastic reactions from many of his new followers. And the salesman who took the picture of him immediately posted a selfie of himself and Aleksandar afterward.

Thursday

Today Aleksandar combined his morning visit to the market with a visit to the barber. He wanted to look his best before the weekend. And he enjoyed the visits here very much. For one thing, he learned plenty of news. For another, he liked it when his full beard was trimmed razor-sharp, the sides of his angular skull gleamed as if polished, and the barely-a-millimeter-long hair on top of his head shone black. He would love to add a few tattoos to the picture, but his mother would kill him for that… And if not her, Atanas' mother would take over that task.

Atanas and Aleksandar worked out together today after Atanas' shift ended. It was good because they were both tough critics and knew how to motivate each other excellently. And it was good because they could both shower together afterwards. Jerking each other's soapy dicks was the highlight of the workout.

Friday

Actually, Aco (Aleksandar only called him his grandmother when she was angry) wasn't really religious. But with three Muslim grandparents, the imprint had been big. And his parents both wanted him to grow up as a devout Muslim. And so, at least on Fridays, it was natural to answer the muezzin's call and say the sunrise prayer. And for the evening prayer, he and Atanas would also go to the mosque. But otherwise, Aco had to spend every free minute on training today as well, besides his work at the guesthouse and on their online trade. Sunday was his first appearance in the heavyweight class. And for that, it wasn't enough to eat like a barn-burner. He had to convert the calories, too.

In the gym, he was something of a local hero. Sure, he was exotic because he was born in the United States. But he had his roots here, and he and his fans were proud of that. But he had also had to work hard for success. Sure he had been in good shape when his parents sent him here with a little capital to start. Sure he had received a lot of support from Atanas and his family. But both his body and his business were essentially his earnings. For that he got up every morning at 04:00 o'clock, for that he went to bed every evening at 21:00 o'clock, for that he renounced alcohol. But for it he brought also with his 1,75 m proud 120 kilograms on the balance. The only thing he had not worked for was his cock. These 25 cm were a gift from his fathers. And for that he and Atanas thanked Allah!

Saturday

Actually silly that he had to sneak out of Atanas' room in the morning. The two of them were more than grown up. But even if it was an open secret that they were a couple, it was not really allowed to become public. That's where both their families were just stuffy. The guesthouse was full today. Many guests were there also because they hoped to take a photo with the most promising candidate for the national amateur championship. And Aco fulfills this wish for every guest. That's why today, for once, he was only allowed to work in a tank top and flex his muscles. Secretly, he regretted that tomorrow no one would be able to enjoy the fur on his chest and arms. He would miss the bushy hair in his armpits. And Atanas probably even more, if he could no longer press his face into the cave stinking of fresh sweat after the training. But tomorrow morning it all had to come off, tomorrow nothing could distract from the tight skin over his muscle mountains. And thanks to his genes, the hair would soon grow back.

Sunday

He had been working towards this moment for over six months. Worked out until he was exhausted, ate until he was pissed off. He had slept in extra today. Pumped up all the important muscle groups one last time. Atanas had carefully shaved every hair on his body. There was nothing left below the beard. And now Atanas was oiling him just as carefully. And as with shaving, he was especially careful in the places to which Aco's cock was particularly sensitive. You idiot, Aco said more in jest. Should the jury choose me for my biceps or for my boner. Grinning, Atanas returned that both would be more than impressive.

Just now, at the accreditation of the contestants, Aco had had to identify himself. Thanks to his mother, he had an Albanian passport; thanks to his birth, he had a U.S. passport. All passports showed his proud name Aleksandar Ristovski, all showed his real birthday but on only one passport were all the data, including his address, exactly as Atanas had recorded them a week ago: on the passport of his father's homeland, on the one from northern Macedonia. And tonight he would leave the stage as the winner for this country.

Many thanks to @massivemusxcle and @homme-parfait! You guys were a great inspiration !

#wife beater #male tf #muscle tf #race change #reality change

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powerofelvis · 1 year

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Fire And Desire

Pairing: Elvis Presley x f!reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: While in Vegas with Elvis, he seems to be more demanding of you to stay inside. However, with your fiery personality, that proves to be much more harder to do. This leads to Elvis taking matters into his own hands.

Warnings: dom!elvis, 68-70's era!elvis, smut, unprotected sex, spanking kink, Elvis being a demanding and bossy little shit, Elvis' temper being shown, reader being disobedient, fluff

A/N: This is a request for my darlin' Christi @ab4eva! Christi, my darling, I hope this is what you asked for. Although he doesn't seem to be as demanding and bossy as he liked, I think that he did a great job with demanding and bossing the reader around a bit. Not to mention, his temper is something to not mess around with. I hope everyone enjoys this fic as well.

prompts.

Elvis was under a tremendous amount of stress, with his upcoming engagement at the Las Vegas Hilton only a few days away. You could admit that you weren’t helping the fact that he was trying to navigate getting his career back on track due to the failure of his acting career. The engagement required the people in his circle to be on their A game and that also included you, being in his corner. However, you were so starstruck by being in Vegas that you could care less about anything else. You wanted to sightsee as much as you could, because once you were back in Memphis, you wouldn’t be able to return again. Elvis had a very short temper and you knew that, but he tended to be a little bit more patient with you.

“Baby, you can’t just roam around Vegas without some protection, ya ought’ ta know that.” Elvis spoke after you asked him if you could go out to see some of the sights, opting out of being stuck at the Hilton. “I’m a big girl, Elvis. I can handle myself.” You wrapped your arms around his waist as he shook his head, huffing at the notion that this was one conversation that would happen more than once. “Now, listen damnit. You’re not going out alone! We ain’t havin’ this conversation again, ya hear?” Elvis gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched as he pushed you down on the bed. This was the first time of the many that he would turn down your idea, forcing you to take matters into your own hands.

While Elvis was away for rehearsals, you were stuck in the penthouse with nothing to do. You tried to keep yourself busy, skimming through magazines and pacing the floor, looking out of the window at the bustling city below. You couldn’t stay still, not wanting to be cooped up in the hotel while Elvis was off having the time of his life. So it was then, that you decided that you would sneak off to have your own fun. You stepped out of the suite, holding your purse in your hands as you made your way to the elevator. You pressed the elevator button, tugging at your dress to ensure that it was in place as you waited for the car to make its way to you. As the doors opened, your heart jumped into your chest at the sight of your father in law, Vernon.

“Where are ya going in such a hurry, girl?” He chuckled, stepping aside to let you into the car. “I’m going down to the casino, I already told Elvis that I would spend some time at the slots.” Lies. Nothing but lies. Vernon watched you intensely, looking for any indication that you were telling the truth before smiling softly in your direction. “Well, make sure you’re careful. You know how Elvis is when you’re not careful.” He chuckled as he stepped off of the elevator, shooting a hand up in a slight wave before the doors closed. You let out a sigh of relief, grateful that Vernon didn’t ask many questions because you weren’t sure if you could have kept up the lie much longer.

The elevator made its way to the lobby floor, your feet picking up briskly as you raced out of the hotel. The breeze from the Vegas weather filled your lungs as you took in a deep breath, reaching into your purse to put a pair of sunglasses over your eyes as you walked down the busy streets. Vegas was much more beautiful than you even realized, your eyes roaming every patron that lined the streets. You had a limited amount of time, knowing that Elvis would be done with rehearsals before the sun fully set. So, you decided that you would do some window shopping while taking in the sights before you would head back to the hotel. While you were out, you didn’t know that Elvis would end rehearsals a bit earlier because he knew how much you wanted to have a few nights to see Vegas in all that it had to offer.

Elvis made his way back up to the penthouse, a smile on his face as he was excited to share his plans with you. He opened the door to his suite, that smile wiping off of his face as he noticed that you were nowhere in sight. His daddy was in the suite, going through documents that he needed to show the colonel but you weren’t anywhere in the rooms. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenched once again as he pressed his fingers at the bridge of his nose. “Daddy, where is Y/N?” He spoke, the tone of his voice was borderline tense as he placed his hands on his hips. “I saw her when I was getting off of the elevator. She said that she was headin’ to the casino, she said that you said that she could.” Vernon looked confused, not quite understanding why his son was pent-up.

“She never told me she was going to the casino. God damnit, daddy. She lied.” Elvis turned to head out of the door, stomping to the elevator. You had better hope that you were in the casino when he found you, because if not, you were in deep trouble. He didn’t like being demanding towards you, but he knew that if he didn’t keep you under his line of view, you would get yourself into trouble. He made his way into the casino, not leaving one stone unturned as he searched for you. The more time that passed that he didn’t see you, the angrier that he became. You weren’t in the damn casino and he knew that you wouldn’t magically appear. The anger that bubbled deep within his body was soon joined by fear because he didn’t know where you were.

“Elvis! What are you doing down here? What are you doing?” Joe pulled Elvis to the side as he noticed that people were starting to take notice of him pacing the casino’s floors. “I’m lookin’ for Y/N! That little girl ran out and I don’t know where she is.” He roared as he stomped out of the casino, his eyes searching the lobby for any indication that you would walk through the doors. “I’m sure Y/N went out to sightsee on her own, you know how strong-willed she is, she should be back soon. She knows to be back before you get out of rehearsals.” He chuckled, quickly shutting his mouth as he noticed that Elvis was not seething with rage. “God damnit, Joe. Where is everyone? Why isn’t anyone with her?” He rambled on as he pressed the button to the elevator to head back up to the penthouse suite.

“Everyone is busy trying to make sure that the colonel stays off of their ass. You know how he is when it comes to show business.” Joe muttered as he followed Elvis on the elevator car, pressing his fingers to his lips as he knew that Elvis couldn’t care less about the show right now. However, Joe knew that he had to keep Elvis from tearing up the hotel while he was looking for you. “Just wait in the suite, she will be back soon.” Joe replied as he stepped off of the elevator as it reached his floor. “She damn well had better, I don’t know she continues to defy me. I swear to god, this woman.” He grumbled as he decided that it was better to wait for you in the suite, knowing that you would be back soon. When you returned, you had best bet that you were in for a world of trouble, Elvis would see to it.

You decided that you had your fair share of sightseeing for the day, deciding that you would return back to the hotel before Elvis noticed that you were gone. You made your way back to the Hilton, a smile on your face as you walked through the lobby. You pulled your sunglasses off of your face, placing it back into your purse as your finger pressed on the elevator button. As the elevator opened, you stepped inside but a dread filled your stomach as you neared the penthouse. You didn’t know what was wrong, but you pushed it away as you figured that you were just overthinking things. You walked up to the door, stepping inside quietly before closing it shut behind you. It was slightly quiet, which you figured it was because Elvis hadn’t returned yet.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you saw Elvis sitting in the loveseat that was in your view. His electric blues burned a hole into your form standing in the foyer, his jaw clenched as he held on tightly to the armrest. “Fancy to see you here, Y/N. Where in the hell have ya been?” He gritted out, his hands squeezing tighter to the armrests before he stood up, balling up his fists. “I-,” You began to speak before he cut you off. “I know ya didn’t fuckin’ go to the casino, Y/N. Daddy already told me what you told him.” He spoke calmly, trying to keep his temper at bay, but you knew that he was seconds away from blowing his top. “I went out.” You whispered under your breath, eyes trained on the floor. “Out where! Where did ya go, little girl?!” He raised his voice as he stomped over to you, grabbing you by the arm.

“Elvis, I couldn’t stand being stuck in the penthouse all day. I went out. That’s it.” You tugged your arm from his grip, placing your purse down on the couch before brushing past him. Suddenly, you heard an animalistic roar, turning around to see Elvis following you before picking you up before placing you over his shoulder. You beat against his back, yelling at him to place you down before he tossed you on the bed. “How many times do I have to tell ya that it’s not safe to be out on your own, hm? You never fuckin’ listen to me. You wonder why I’m always so demanding and fuckin’ bossy. It’s because you’re fuckin’ doin’ my damn head in.” He grumbled as he yanked you up by your arm before placing you over his knee.

“Elvis, what are you doing?! Let me go!” You screeched out, squirming as you tried to get out of his hold, feeling his hand pulling your dress up over your ass. “This is what happens when little girls don’t listen to their daddy!” The burning sensation suddenly consumed you as Elvis’ hand landed across your cheeks repeatedly. He was spanking you, the punishment that you were given because you disobeyed him. “I swear, you are never satisfied until I’m punishin’ ya. You’re such a disobedient little bitch.” He spat as his hand continued to slap down on your ass, your legs rubbing together as the feeling caused juices to pour out of you. You bit down on your lips, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to keep the moans at bay.

It was hard, little whimpers passing your lips as the feeling of his hand coming down against your ass was satisfying. “And look at ya, fuckin’ enjoying Daddy punishing ya.” He spat as he pushed you off from his lap, spreading your legs as he eyed the moisture that was forming in your panties. “Fuckin’ keep those legs open, little girl. I wanna see how wet ya got from me spankin’ ya.” He spat out, demanding you to follow every direction that he gave to you. You whimpered out as you nodded your head, not wanting to upset him further. Elvis grunted under his breath as he hooked his fingers into the band of your panties before pulling them off of your legs. You hissed at the coolness of the room, shutting your eyes as you waited for what he had waiting for you.

SMACK. Your eyes opened immediately as his hand smacked across your pussy, moans passing your lips as you eyed him in disbelief. “Elvis!” You shouted out, moans passing your lips as he slapped your pussy a few more times, each time, his hand becoming covered with your juices. “Shut your mouth, little girl. The next time you speak is when I tell ya that you can speak.” He gritted out, sliding his finger against your vulva lips, collecting as much of your juices as he could. He pulled his finger up, eyeing the glistening of the digit before he looked down to you. “You should be ashamed, gettin’ off to your man slapping yer pussy.” He spat out before sliding the same digit inside of you, dragging it against your walls. You hummed out in pleasure, grinding your hips against his finger as it pushed deeper inside.

“Did I tell ya that you could move?” He removed his finger, eliciting a groan from you as you shook your head. “No, daddy. I’m sorry.” You whimpered out, biting down on your lip as you pushed your hips back down on the bed. Elvis stepped away from you, fiddling with his belt as he pulled it from the loops of his trousers, his darkened eyes glaring into you before he threw the belt on the floor. He popped open the button of his pants, unzipping the zipper before pushing them off of his body, his hardened length pressing against his stomach before he climbed on top of you. “You’re already ready for me, there’s nothin’ left to do but to pleasure myself since ya wanna disobey me.” He whispered in the shell of your ear as he pushed your thighs further apart.

He plunged deep inside of you, filling you to the hilt as groans passed his lips. He didn’t give it any time for you to stretch around him as he furiously pounded inside of you. You could feel the anger burning off of him as he rutted on top of you. Moans passed from your lips as you dug your nails into his biceps, throwing your head back from the pleasure of him sliding deep inside of you. “Look. At. That. You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well and I didn’t have to prepare ya for it.” He hissed as his balls slapped against your ass, grunts passing his lips as he continued his assault on your pussy. You hissed as the tip of his cock rubbed against your cervix, your nails digging deeper into his bicep as you created crescents into his skin.

Incoherent moans passed from your lips as the thought of Elvis’ temper turned you on further. You knew that his temper was something to be fearful of, but you also knew that he wouldn’t ever hurt you. Even though he was angry that you disobeyed him, he held back the rage that he was feeling as he pounded his anger away. “I should keep you locked up in here, maybe then you’ll understand that I mean business.” He grunted into your ear as he pulled out of you, pushing you over onto your stomach before he plunged back into you deeply. He wrapped his fingers around the strands of your hair as he pulled you closer to him, his hips pushing deeper inside of you. “I should punish ya for the hell of it, lord knows you’re always doin’ something.” Elvis chuckled as his eyes stared deep into yours, shivers passing through your body as you returned his gaze.

“Are ya gonna keep disobeyin’ daddy? When I tell ya somethin’, I mean it. Answer me, little girl.” He spat out as you nodded your head. “No, daddy. I won’t disobey you again. Please, I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered out, your orgasm crashing over you as your legs shook. You could feel the juices pooling down your thighs as your pussy clenched around his cock as he grinded into you. Elvis wasn’t far behind you, roaring out as he filled you full of his cum. He let go of your hair, your body falling on the mattress before you as you whimpered from the feeling of his warm seed coating your walls. Elvis pulled out of you, smirking as his cum seeped out of your pussy. His finger scooped up the sticky substance before he shoved it into your mouth. “Suck me clean, little girl.” He spoke in a firm tone, watching as your lips wrapped around the digit, sucking the substance off.

He patted your ass softly before turning you over, pulling you up by your arms. “I hate to do that, mama. I hate bein’ rough with ya; but I need ya to understand that when I’m bein’ demanding and bossy, it’s because I want what’s best for ya.” He pulled you into his arms as you smiled up at him. “I know, daddy. But, I loved it. I won’t leave without your permission again, I promise.” You giggled as you nuzzled into his chest. “Did ya have fun out today at least?” Elvis whispered, looking down at you before pressing a little kiss to your forehead. “I did, but it was much better when I came back to you.” You replied, shutting your eyes as you laid in his arms. “I left rehearsal early because I wanted to take ya out tonight. We still can, ya know? Maybe, a little dinner?” He spoke, hopeful that you still wanted to have some time out.

“Of course, baby. Why wouldn’t I want to have a night out with the man that I love?” You tilted your head up to look at him. Elvis returned your glance, a smirk crossing his lips as he placed his finger under your chin to still your gaze. “Well, why don’t you go get ready. Leave the panties off.” He spoke firmly, a fire burning in his eyes as he bit down on his lip. He could get used to bossing you around a little, seeing that you adored when he did so. “Yes, daddy. I’ll go get ready now.” You beamed as you untangled your body from him as you skipped into the bathroom. Elvis was definitely not tense anymore, the night ahead had unquestionably changed his mood. He knew that you kept him on his toes and even though he would get too demanding or too bossy, he knew that he had you to keep his head on straight. Maybe, he should ease the reins a bit on you. After all, Elvis had nothing to worry about, especially not when he had you by his side.

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#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #daisy’s 1k celebration 🎉#elvis presley x reader #elvis #dom!elvis #68!elvis #69!elvis #70s!elvis #requested #daisy writes

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bimboaudino · 6 months

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TGTF Medallion In Bangkok

I sat in the private jet, the gentle hum of the turbines barely entering the soundproof walls of the airplane, sipping on a martini as I think about what I’m doing. I was going to Bangkok on a work trip. My company had just signed a major deal to open up and buy business there and I was going to meet the partnering companies to get things started.

But it was more than a business trip. I knew I’d have more than just a few days off to enjoy in Bangkok. I shivered at the thought, pulling out a small silver medallion with a red gem embedded in it. I remember when I had discovered it on a less than legal auction and could barely contain myself.

I was looking for something a little kinky. Something that would let me act out my true desire, and then be able to go back to a normal life. It wasn’t that I was a gay man, the thought didn’t sit well with me. But to be a woman, that was something very different. To have someone see me as less, as weak and as submissive, and to act as such. The thought sent shivers down my spine, I could almost feel my cock harden as I stared at the small silver piece of jewellery.

"Another?" a female voice asked, snapping me out of my fantasy. It was the air hostess. A young brunette who had been trying to flirt with me since the plane took off. I quickly stowed the medallion and took another stiff drink, nodding my head. She walked off, making sure to sway her hips as she went.

Id always been rather a disagreeable man, and this had often gotten in the way of any type of romantic relationships, my wife barely talked to me. So instead I focused on my career, working hard and climbing the ladder. Soon enough I was a very successful CEO. But I’d always wanted to know what it would be like to be on the other side. To be weak and powerless, and have others dominate me. This was something I kept a tight lid on, keeping it secret and letting it manifest in my fantasies. To be agreeable, submissive, and powerless in the hands of others.

I knew the medallion could grant me that experience, the moment I laid eyes on it.

I had found it on an auction on the deep web, an online black market, bidding high to win the item. When it arrived I was in a cold sweat, holding it and knowing what it was and what it could do. Id tested it a week ago by imagining my wife’s image, finding myself in her form, the mental and physical changes almost throwing me for a loop. It had been a crazy few hours before I used the medallion to change back, having found myself thinking as her after a short while. I’d have to be careful.

I looked out the window seeing we were on the approach to the airport, and a smile creeped onto my lips. Tonight was the night. I was met at the airport by a car sent from the Thai business association, and was escorted to my hotel, the Hilton hotel where all the guests for the conference were staying. I dropped off my luggage, a single suitcase and made my way back out to the city. I was staying in a rather large penthouse and would have the entire thing to myself for the night, but before I could get around to my plan I was of course to give a talk for my company and discuss the business agreement.

"Great talk Jake" my associate Mike shook my hand as he beamed.

I thanked him for coming as we mingled with the post conference crowd. Many powerful rich men, just as I was, gathered here.

The next few hours were spent in boring meetings and talks with business associates and CEOs.

I finally managed to wrap things up, leaving the conference to head back to my hotel. It was a huge building, and a quick elevator ride to the top floor. I walked out onto the balcony overlooking the city, the nightlife already bustling in full swing, the sounds and smells reaching all the way to me. I was just able to make out in the distance the red lights and neon signs of the infamous red light district. It was the place I’m planning to get more than a little intimate with if all goes to plan.

I could see it vividly in my minds eye, I was to become a sex worker, selling my body for money. The thought alone was enough to make my cock throb and my breath hitch. I had thought long and hard about this, the things id do and the ways id be used. Id be forced to use my body to pleasure strangers. Id be treated like a dirty whore, and not be able to do anything about it. The though of being so submissive, agreeable and powerless excited me, and had led to many a night where id cum to the thoughts and fantasies of being a woman and being forced to have sex with strangers.

"I'm going to do this" I tell myself, feeling the medallion in my pocket, running my fingers over the cold metal. I can already feel the nervousness growing inside me, my heart beat rising. I'm actually going to do this.

I look at the medallion, and take a deep breath, calming myself.

In my minds eye I picture her. An Asian girl, young barely 18, petite yet busty, with a cute face and an innocent look, and short bob hair. She was dressed in a latex Short shorts, the shiny fabric ending well above her thighs. On her feet was a pair of latex thigh high leggings with built in heels, the rubber fabric ending a few inches above her knees, giving her legs a smooth, bare look. On her arms she wore latex gloves, the tight material going up all the way to her shoulders, and covering her arms, save for a few inches of bare skin around her wrists. At her neck was a choker, the same latex material as her leggings and gloves. Her hair was jet black and flowing.

Her face the image of innocence and naivety, her expression a shy, meek one. Her personality was different. It was a complete contradictions compared to my own. Yes, she was a submissive, agreeable and meek, eager to please and willing to do anything.

A low knowledge, simple, and unintelligent girl. A dumb bitch.

She was a whore, a prostitute, a sex worker.

Her name? That's easy, her name is Mei, Thai in origin, her English is broken and simple.

I see it all in my minds eye, and I clutch the medallion tightly, a strange warmth emanating from it.

It was time.

I took the medallion and held it firmly, imagining the girl I pictured in my mind, the latex outfit and the handbag. I concentrated, feeling the medallion pulsing in my hands, getting warmer and warmer.

It felt like electricity was running through me, starting from my toes and fingertips, running up my body and converging around the medallion, a warm heat emanating from it.

As the electricity ran up my body I could feel the changes starting.

My hair, it was lengthening. It started to reach down from my neck, running down my head. The sensation was strange, but not uncomfortable, a strange itchy sensation. My head felt lighter as the hair grew out, the itch growing worse, until it was almost unbearable. My hair now hung a few inches past my shoulders, and the itch was gone, the weight of the hair being longer felt heavy.

It was starting.

I was becoming her.

My feet were next, a tingling sensation running up my legs as they changed. My shoes began to tighten, and I was able to feel them shrink, my feet shrinking with them.

The first thing I noticed was that my body felt lighter, the shoes having grown a small heel. But it was more than that, my weight was now centred lower.

My foot and calf muscles were also getting tighter, my legs becoming dainty and lithe. The transformation continued up my legs, traveling upwards.

They were changing, the transformation spreading up my legs.

The tingle continued, moving up my hips. I could feel the change happening, the bone structure changing, my body slimming down, and my hip width widening.

My hips were starting to widen, the muscles growing tighter, my body slimming down as the transformation travelled upward, my height dropping as the room around me felt larger and larger.

My chest was next, the transformation traveling up my torso.

I could feel a pressure on my chest, the sensation was strange. It was growing tighter and tighter, the sensation of my torso and rib cage shrinking to petite female proportions, gone was broad muscular chest, and in its place were two small mounds.

My breasts, they were forming.

They grew from small pea sized nubs, to the size of lemons, the pressure on my chest was getting intense, the mounds growing. Knowing that I now had breast tissue, my nipples erecting and hardened.

They were small and perky, and highly sensitive.

The transformation had spread upward, continuing to my shoulders, and down my arms, the sensations travelling along my arms, and to my hands.

I could feel the tingling in my fingers, the digits changing and shrinking, the skin softening, becoming feminine. My hand felt smaller, the skin softer, and the nails longer.

I was getting excited, the changes happening so far were wonderful. The sensations continued up my arms and to my neck, my body was slimming down, my neck becoming thinner and feminine, my jaw and face changing.

My face, it was one of the most strange changes.

My nose and cheek bones changed, my face slimming down and becoming feminine, the masculine jawline vanishing, and the chin becoming smaller. My eyes grew slightly larger, my eye lids changing and becoming daintier, and the skin on my face softening, my eyebrows thinning out. As my race began to shift I could feel my eye lids begin to grow longer and thicker, my eye lashes growing fuller and longer. Taking on an Asian slant, like two beautiful almonds, they began shift from a bright blue to become a deep shade of brown.

My mouth changed, the lips filling out, becoming thinner and softer, and my lips grew slightly larger, the corners turning upwards, forming a small natural pout. My nose gaining an Asian look, and a small button like nose, with the same change occurring to the rest of my body.

I could feel my ears changing, they were shrank very slightly as two pinpricks indicated piercings now present.

I look down at my body, the changes were nearly done, I was now only around 5ft, and I could feel my height had lowered even further, the room around me appearing large. I could see my thighs now with a thigh gap, and my feet and calves were now smooth and dainty, the skin soft.

My pelvis finally started to change, the transformation moving to the very last place.

My groin area, the skin became smoother, and the area around the groin area began to shrink, and I could feel my penis and testicles retracting, a strange sensation, my crotch becoming a vagina, the labia growing from nothing and expanding outward, the labia lips becoming full and soft.

The sensations were traveling downwards, my cock and balls were retracting into my body, and disappearing. My cock shrinking into a nub, and my testicles disappearing, the scrotum shrinking, the skin smoothing and tightening, the area becoming a fully functional pussy, the lips forming.

The sensation of having a vagina was strange, I could feel the new emptiness, the lack of testicles and penis was so alien, but also amazing.

The transformation was almost done.

My puffy pussy growing wet and warm at the knowledge of the final things to come. My breasts finished growing the size of Cantaloupes , ripe fruit that hung from my now petite chest, and my ass finished changing, becoming a firm, bubbly, jiggly rear, and the last thing to change physically was my skin tone, my body colour changing from a pale white to a light bronze, a light tan, a beautiful golden hue of the Thai people.

The transformation was complete.

I was no longer a 40 year old disagreeable man.

I was a 18 year old, cute, Asian, whore.

But my clothes were up next, the transformation starting with my lower half.

The tingling started at the bottom, a sensation spreading up my legs, traveling slowly. My boxers began to tighten, shrinking down, becoming smaller and smaller. I felt the thong dig into my cheeks, and then the elastic around the waist and hips stretched outwards, and began to grow.

As the thong shrunk and stretched outwards, I could feel the front part of the thong digging into my new pussy, and the sensation caused a shiver to run up my spine, the back strings spreading my cheeks so they were visibly outlined against the latex, the transformation causing the thong to shrink further.

The transformation continued upward, the tightening sensation spreading up from my crotch.

My T-shirt was next, the cloth beginning to stretch out.

I could feel the transformation traveling across my body, and the material was stretching, the T-shirt tightening, the fabric becoming more revealing. I could see my midriff as the shirt began to rise, the transformation continuing upwards.

I could feel the sensation spread up from my groin and hips, the t-shirt lifting, the fabric beginning to reveal the skin of my abdomen.

The material rose, and I could feel the air touching my belly, the transformation continuing upwards, the t-shirt rising, the material becoming smaller.

The tightening was reaching my shoulders, and the material had risen just under my bust, taking on a shiny gloss.

My chest began to rise, my new tits pushed up, as the latex shirt was tightening, the material becoming a tube top, a bright pink crop top. The material clung to my figure, and the transformation spread upward, the shirt lifting my tits, becoming tighter as a deep V neck was formed, the V neckline dipping low between the breasts, showing off the cleavage, the material clinging to my figure.

The transformation spread down my legs, the material tightening, the latex leggings turning into thigh high boots.

What was left of my trousers forming into a pair of short shorts, the shorts were tight, and the material became shiny and pale, the fabric stretching and turning into latex, the shorts were tight around my ass, the material clinging to the curves, outlining the ass cheeks.

My arms covered in latex, a pair of latex shoulder length gloves covering the skin, and the rest of the t-shirt had already become a tight shiny crop top.

The transformation finishing as a tight chocker forms around my now petite neck and I stood there, dressed in latex and rubber, the transformation completed, I was now her.

The sensations subsided, and I looked down, seeing myself, I was now her, the girl I saw in my minds eye, the transformation complete.

My brain suddenly felt strange, a weird fog setting in, clouding my thoughts.

"Me head feel strange" I say in a small voice, my words coming out in broken English. A strong Thai accent smothering the words.

The thought of speaking in an Asian accent was strange. It felt alien, but at the same time, right.

"Why I speak like this? Is not make sense"

"My name" I say, the thought of what I used to be was so strange. "I...not remember"

I try and remember who I was before, but the more I tried, the more the thoughts and memories seemed to fade.

"I remember, Mei" I say, a smile forming on my face, a new name, yet it fit. It was like a switch had been pressed in my cranium, flushing away most of my knowledge.

The thought of who I was, Jake, was strange, like trying to remember something from another life, the more I thought about it, I could remember it, yet it felt unimportant.

I could remember who I was before, I just didn’t care right now and that was okay, that was perfect.

I see a handbag, and walk over, picking it up, the transformation had given me everything I needed.

It was filled with a few things.

I take the handbag, and begin to explore, looking around.

I find a mirror and look in, I was no longer a 40 year old white man with dark blonde hair and a short buzz cut, I was now a 18 year old Asian female prostitute, the transformation was perfect. My bag containing a passport and new ID, the ID showing my name as Mei Saetang, an Asian prostitute, my profession and job was listed, the age of 18 years old.

The handbag also contained a few other items, condoms, cigarettes, a small amount of currency and a small makeup kit.

Suddenly the penthouse felt strange to me, no longer belonging, and it felt too expensive for my new form.

"I want to leave" I think (in fluent Thai), looking around. "I should find the elevator"

I leave the room, taking the room keycard and medallion in my new handbag, finding myself quickly adapting to the shoes, the heels and the latex were so comfortable, a natural fit, it was like they were made for me.

I drowned my fear of being seen as my hazy mind reasoned that if anyone saw a Thai hooker leaving the penthouse they would just think I was leaving a customer.

The heels were surprisingly easy to walk in, and as I walked I could feel the latex rubbing on the skin of my thighs, the shorts so tight that every time I walked I could feel the fabric of the latex thong riding into my new pussy.

The elevator door opened, and I walked in, partly glad it was empty yet at the same time feeling strangely like I wished someone was there to observe my new body. Pushing the button to go down, and as I rode the elevator, I could feel the cool air conditioning against my skin, and the feeling of the latex clinging to my skin felt good.

Ding

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out, walking to the exit of the hotel.

The lobby was busy, a lot of people, and the feeling of being stared at, but my hazy mind wasn’t bothered by it, I even could make out some English words that some of them were saying, feeling strange how I only understood the odd word here or there but the word 'slut' and 'whore' were still familiar to my new cortex. I giggled knowing they thought I was a prostitute, one that had just finished with a client who had brought her back to their hotel room.

I felt a sudden surge of wetness between my legs, a damp patch forming on the thong.

Walking out the door and into the street, I knew where to go. I needed to find the redlight district, the night was still young, and I could already feel the excitement and anticipation building, I was going to get fucked a lot, and soon. Noticing how short my new body was, the street seemed a lot bigger, the world around me a lot larger, the men all around me so much taller. Their smell strangely new and strong to my petite nose. Yet strangely it smelt comforting.

As I walked along the streets, the warm evening air brushing against my bare shoulders, I could hear some cat calls and whistles. A sign I was getting close.

It wasn’t long until the crowds parted, and I could see one of Bangkok’s famed locations. The red light district.

It was like entering a whole different world, the smell of sweat and sex.

The sound of music and laughter, the neon lights and the flashing signs, and the many brothels, bars and strip clubs, it was like a dream come true. My heels clicking on the stone pavement as I walked, the air was filled with the smell of cigarettes and the sounds of sex.

The street was packed, the sidewalks were crowded with young women, much like myself, the other girls all dressed in skimpy dresses or short skirts and some dressed in lingerie.

They were all prostitutes, and some of the women were standing out in the open, talking to potential customers.

As I walked, a few of the girls glanced over at me, giving me a look only reserved for competition.

Some were even glaring.

The girls all dressed in slutty outfits, they were all working the street, some were standing out on the sidewalk, trying to attract the attention of the male customers, trying to get them to buy their bodies.

And yet I was starting to feel strangely comforted by the scene around me.

A few men looked at me, their eyes scanning my body, and I felt a strange surge of arousal, their stares feeling more and more intense, and a small group of men, wearing smart suits, looking foreign, started to walk over, the sight causing me to stop and smile at them. Internally I had just recognised them as 'foreigners' as though I had always been Thai, causing my nethers to clench even more.

This was it, my first potential customer, I could feel a surge of emotions, a mixture of apprehension, nervousness, fear and excitement, all fighting for control.

What left my mouth as they approached was the most stereotypical possible thing I could imagine a hooker would say.

"Want good time?" I ask them, speaking in broken English, a cute thick accent.

It was the most obvious thing that came to mind.

One of them answered, speaking in English, his words were slightly slurred, he had clearly been drinking.

"Yeah we want a good time, how much is it, you're a cheap one aren't ya, I bet your really loose as well" he laughed.

I smile up at him, fluttering my eyelashes, yet not understanding most of what he said besides the words 'yeah', 'how much ‘and 'cheap'. I lean presenting my chest at the most sensual angle I can for him, feeling him tower over me only making my womb tingle and rev harder.

"Me cheap" I say, a cute giggle, "me do good time, and me very good."

My words were broken and accented, my brain no longer able to speak English fluently, only understanding a little, and what I did understand made little sense. But I did know that the way I was talking likely turned them on no end. My mind telling me men like it when I make myself seem dumber than them.

One of the men leaned in, and whispered into my ear, his hot breath on my skin, sending a shiver up my spine, a strange wave of emotion washed over me as my crotch felt a fire light in it.

"So what can you do for us" the man whispers into my ear, his lips so close to my petite ear, I didn’t really know what he was asking but I assumed it was price.

"Me do good time 500 baht each handsome man" I say, giggling and smiling up at him, my large eyes meeting his.

To them I was just a cute Asian prostitute and they wanted to be serviced by a cute, submissive, young and dumb whore. How lucky for them that’s what I am now.

The man who had whispered into my ear, smiled, and leaned back. Looking at his well dressed buddy before looking back at the petite hooker in front of him.

"Okay 500 baht each, how much for both of us to double team you?"

I smiled up at him, and nodded, "me love you, me give special offer, me take both for 700 baht yes? Me think both very handsome with big cock" my nethers tingles at my own accent and statement, my brain praying it was true.

He grinned, "Deal" he said, "lets go to our hotel, its close"

He took my side and placed a hand on my ass as he lead me away, his friend putting a hand over my petite shoulders

I could feel a strange wetness in my pussy, the thong clinging tightly between the delicate lips.

There was no doubt the men were horny and wanted to fuck me, and I was going to give them a good time, it was my job.

"We have a suite in the Hilton, its just down the road, follow us" the man says, squeezing and leading me my the ass. It was demeaning but it felt so good, like I was being owned and dominated.

The other man was on my right, his hand resting on my petite shoulders, his arm so much larger than mine.

They both lead me away, down the street, to an all to familiar sight.

I could see the hotel, the familiar logo.

Hilton Hotel Bangkok.

The sight sent a shiver up my spine, my mind flashing back, remembering, I was staying there myself, before I had used the medallion, and now I’m being lead to the same place, only as a prostitute.

I was so short, only coming up to the men's chests, and the two were well built, they could easily overpower me, and a strange thought crossed my mind.

I would happily let them.

That was my purpose now, and I could feel a growing excitement and arousal as we walked.

We walked into the building, and the sight of the reception area was one I recognised.

"Hello Sirs, welcome back to the hotel," they are greeted, the receptionist was a middle aged woman. She was dressed in a formal business suit. Her eyes shift down towards me, I could feel her judge me, glaring at me knowing what they would do to me soon enough in the privacy of their room. Clearly disgusted at this girl in front of hers life choices.

The men simply nodded, leading me past the counter and towards the elevators.

The elevator doors opened, and the man with a hand on my ass guided me in, his friend joining us, and the other man pressed the button. The doors closed and the elevator began to move, the feeling of being trapped in a small box with two dominant males was intoxicating, the heat radiating off them was amazing, and my nose could smell the scent of their cologne, it was a musky masculine smell.

The feeling of the soft hand on my ass, slowly kneading the soft flesh through the latex. I let out a high pitch moan. My legs rubbing together involuntarily.

I could feel the juices trickle from my pussy, the thong already damp, and the hand slowly moved downwards, sliding under the short shorts, moving inwards, until a finger brushed against the soft lips, the man's thumb finding the sensitive clit, and rubbing it through the fabric, sending a wave of pleasure through my body.

I couldn’t hold it, I had no willpower, my body had been reduced to that of a young woman, and I had no more control.

I moaned loudly, a loud, sensual and girly moan.

I was putty in the men's hands, and I didn’t care, it was what I wanted in that moment.

Ding

The elevator doors opened, and the two men led the way, the one holding my ass leading me by the pussy, his fingers stroking the sensitive bud, as the other walked still had his hands over my shoulder leaning in for a drunken kiss.

I kissed him back, a sensual open mouthed kiss, the alcohol on his breath was strong, but I didn’t mind, my body was on fire, my heart pounding, and I could feel his hand squeeze my shoulder closer before it went under and slid up and under my cropped top.

Breaking the kiss and letting out a gasp, the man's hand found the small, sensitive, perky nipple and he began to play with it, flicking and rubbing.

"Lets get you to our suite baby girl, we'll show you a good time" the man

They lead me to a door, and one of them unlocked it, the man behind me pulled his hand from under the short shorts and pulled the keycard from the pocket.

He opened the door and the three of us entered.

The room was big and luxurious, a huge king size bed in the middle of the room. I gulped, this was really happening, I’m going to be fucked.

The man who was behind me, shut the door, and the man who was at my side, led me over to the bed.

"Take a seat baby" the man says. I look up at him in confusion then watch his gestures, realising that he was commanding me onto the bed.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, my ass feeling like a cushion beneath me, and look up at the men, they are so much taller, so much bigger, and a part of me just wants to give myself up, to be at their mercy, the thought alone making me feel tingly all over.

The two men start to unbuckle their belts and remove their pants, the bulges are so clear, and it's so obvious they are rock hard, they are both wearing smart trousers, and I can tell they are western men, maybe Americans, judging by their appearances, they seem familiar, my mind suddenly resurfacing shaking hands with them but their names no longer came to mind, I had met them at the conference today. they were some big wig executives of some company I had just bought, I had been a multi millionaire CEO, and now I’m reduced to being an unassuming whore in their hotel room.

It was almost a dream come true.

As the two men drop their pants and pull out their cocks, the sight makes me gasp, they are so huge, and so thick.

"Me like" I say, licking my lips, unable to keep my eyes off them. A strange desire id never had surfacing in the moment.

Watching them grow, understanding that it was me that had made them grow. My body, my purpose was to please men, and it was true to purpose, evident by the swollen Falas before me.

The one who had grabbed my ass, the one with the slightly longer hair and darker skin, stepped closer, his cock was so big and thick, it was almost intimidating.

The other got on the bed behind me.

"What’s your name, baby girl?" the man asked.

I look up at him, confused, I had no idea what he was asking, his words seemed foreign and confusing. My arousal in the moment lowering my comprehension further.

"My name" the man in front of me said, repeating the question, "tell us your name"

My brain finally realising what he’s asking.

"Me name Mei" I say, my voice coming out more high pitched, sounding cute.

I smile, and lean forward, the heels making my feet arch up, making me seem even more submissive, I rest a gloved hand on my knees, smiling blissfully dumbly up at him.

He smiles, and leans in, placing a hand on the side of my face, and kisses me on the lips, his tongue entering my mouth, the kiss was so intense, the alcohol on his breath less strong than the others, and his hand reached around and cupped the back of my head, pulling me into him, my body, my purpose was to be submissive and obey, and so I gave into the kiss.

Our tongues danced and fought for dominance, his tongue was so dominant, and I could feel a heat inside me.

"Now get on your hands and knees, ill take your pussy and my friend will take pretty little mouth and fuck it" the man says.

The men's commands were so dominant and powerful, and the words made sense to me, I couldn’t remember understand the sounds but the meaning was clear.

I nod, and stand up, turning around and getting onto the bed. I turn around and get onto the bed, onto my hands and knees, presenting myself, I was his, my pussy was his, and my mouth was his friends. All for just 700 baht, the cost of the sex.

The man in front of me slowly edges forward, his one eyed monster staring me in the face, my eyes transfixed on it.

Behind me the client looks down at me grabbing my petite waist, pulling the latex short shorts down, the cool air hitting my bare pussy and its sensitive lips.

"Your such a slut" the man says, his hands on the soft hips before swatting my ass causing it to jiggle pleasantly with a 'Plap' , as the other moves forward, the man's large, swollen, and throbbing member was right in front of my face.

There was no escape, no stopping the inevitable, and all I could think about was pleasing these two men, giving them a good time.

My body was trembling in excitement and anticipation, as I could feel the other man's hands grab my hips, Condom freshly placed , guiding himself up to my puffy rose,, teasing it as he rubs the hard member against my softness. The sensations controlling my whole world, I pull myself back to reality, reminding myself the man in front of me also need attention.

Leaning forward letting out a small moan, kissing its tip between my plump lips.

my huge almond shapes eyes gazing up at him as I stick my tongue out, and run it around the tip of his cock, a strange salty taste. But my body couldn’t get enough.

"Oh fuck" the man groaned, "she is a fucking slut"

I giggle, a high pitch feminine giggle, and move my head forward, kissing the swollen tip before finally engulfing it, careful to avoid touching it with my teeth, and began to suck, slowly bobbing my head, the sensation of having the tip of his cock inside my mouth and the taste, it was like nothing else.

My whole world was now this, to please men, to have men dominate me.

Finally having had enough of the teasing the man behind me plunges in, his condom ribbed member plunging into my wet, tight and delicate pussy.

The sudden sensation, and the feeling of fullness, his cock so much larger than I had anticipated. I let out a loud, girly and pleasurable moan, the sensation almost making me climax. On the spot as I moan on the rod in my mouth, sending pleasant vibrations throughout the man's cock.

The feeling of being penetrated in both holes, the man behind me, his throbbing cock plunging in and out of my pussy, his hands gripping my soft petite waist.

"Fuck she's a slut, you really know how to pick them," the man I was sucking exclaims with a deep grunt

"Yeah, she is the perfect little Asian whore, I tell you man, the women here hit different."

The sound of their voices, their accents, they sounded pleased with my body, only making me more enthusiastic.

"You think her tits are real?"

"Who cares man, her ass is a work of art, I would love to cum on that."

'SLAP' he emphasized the word with a smack of my ass. It didn’t stop, my muscles down below clenching around the member. Massaging it in a fashion only a woman could.

"I'm getting close." the man grunted, his cock twitching and swelling inside me, as if the sensation wasn’t already driving me wild, the sensations and his grunts making it more intense, my own climax rising to meet it. Gazing up at the man in front of me, letting him know I was his in the moment, and the sensation was overwhelming.

Behind I could feel the hot liquid shoot from his cock, the condom preventing any leakage, and I could feel it pulsating inside me. The feeling and his grunts and groans making me reach my own climax, the most intense one of my life. A constant wave of pleasure running through me.

"Me too" the man I was sucking called out.

A pulsating sensation, a swelling before I could feel a warmth on the roof of my mouth and a salty taste, the sensation of the man Cumming, his cock throbbing in my mouth, shooting his seed into my throat, his musk filling my mouth.

I push myself down onto it to its base, making sure not to let it leak. Finally the pulsating stops and I pull myself off it with a gasp. Opening my mouth, my gaze locked with him, showing him my prize.

"Swallow it" the man commands.

And so I do, the sensation strange, the taste not the best but I swallow all of it, the man's essence disappearing down my throat. I finish gulping dramatically before I once again open my mouth wide, sticking my tongue out to show him.

"Good girl" he says, his hand petting my jet black hair, the sensation of the touch was nice, his hand moving down and stroking my face. The men get up and one rummages in his wallet, the other pulls the condom off his softening member, smirking before tying a knot in it. Before handing it to me, "for later slut, when your hungry" I don’t understand the words but I take my prize.

The man gets a wad of bills and puts it between my tits.

"Thats a good slut, and we'll see you again if you are still around this week" the man says. I giggle vapidly, being demeaned as the notes are shoved between my tits, the cool paper touching my skin, making me shudder, and I can feel the man's finger stroke the top of my cleavage. Not understanding what he said but having an inkling that I would be seeing them again before the week was over.

My first job complete, I had been transformed and fucked, and I was happy, a feeling of contentment, the money shoved between my tits a sign of a job well done. I was 700 baht richer.

I stood up, taking the wad of money in the middle of my chest and the condom still tied at the end and placed them in my handbag. Quickly shimmying the short shorts back over my caboose, before bowing to the men and strutting out of the room giving them another smile and a wiggle of my hips on the way out.

Walking back towards the elevator, I press the button, the door opening and I step inside, a feeling of happiness, and the feeling of being used. I felt like a woman.

In that moment my mind rushes back to me, my male one. My thoughts rush back to me and I can see it in the reflection of the mirror, my eyes widening. There was a woman, a young Thai prostitute, a hooker, in the elevator mirror, her hair messy and a blush and smile on her dazed face.

The realisation that that was me hit, the realisation that id almost lost control, I scramble with the elevator controls, leaning forward awkwardly in my heels, the short shorts hugging the round and full cheeks of my ass, I had lost control, my mind had been so easily subverted.

The doors opened and I rushed out into the penthouse floor, my key card granting me access, panting as I enter the huge room slamming the door behind me.

I rush towards the bathroom, the huge room, a mirror on the ceiling above the bed, the huge bed and the view through the huge window looking over the city, the skyline at night, pulling out the medallion and willing myself back to how I was before.

A flash and the sensation and sight of me expanding, my clothes tightening before shifting into my old business suit as I return to my form.

My mind returning and I breathe heavily.

I had just turned into a whore and almost lost control, the experience was exhilarating, the transformation was so quick, so instant, I had loved every second of it, the lack of control,

The experience, the sensation, the feelings, and the powerlessness I had felt, the pleasure and the domination by others.

Sweat runs down my wrinkled forehead as I sit up straight, the suit now feeling tight, a discomfort in the front. I unbuckle and loosen the belt, the front of my trousers tenting forward, the tent in my crotch couldn’t be contained as I recall what I had just experienced.

I was me again, I breathe with a sigh of relief.

Yet a nagging sensation pulled at me, seeing the condom still full made something inside me itch for more.

I had to go back. This wasn’t the last time, it was the first.

I had to do this again, it was so intense.

I had a week of the conference ahead of me

This was only the first day, and I was in control, I had a week.

I had a whole week with the medallion, and the thought made me tingle all over.

Id be seeing Mei again soon enough.

#tgtf #rubber #transformation #bimboficiation #story

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flcgod · 1 month

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𓏲 * ( romee strijd, cis female, she/her, paris hilton + hailey bieber cc ) ⸺ pictures of leonora elsabeth clemonte the twenty eight year old hotel heiress/model/media personality, have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to having an affair with another celebrity — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their christian dior saddle bag and pumps matched with jacquemus laurier dress, they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more captivating than vain. their critics say that they’re more manipulative than benevolent when they aren’t too busy focusing on their blowdried bouncy hair, dewy skin, day drinking, impulsive shopping sprees, pretending to be busy to have a spa day instead of going out. reputation.com has taken to calling them london tipton in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).

* ◟ stats .

full name : leonora elsabeth clemente nicknames : goes prominently as lena birthplace : monte carlo , monaco . current residence : manhattan , nyc . sexual orientation : heterosexual / heteroromantic nationality : dual ( both american & monégasque ) languages spoken : french ( fluent ) , english ( fluent ) , italian ( basic ) occupation : hotel heiress , model , media personality career claim : hailey bieber , paris hilton muse inspo : serena van der woodsen ( gossip girl ) , gabrielle solis ( desperate housewives ) , lauren conrad ( laguna beach ) , elle woods ( legally blonde ) , allison hamilton ( the notebook ) , hanna marin ( pretty little liars ) , cher horowitz ( clueless ) , rachel green ( friends ) , tahani al jamil ( the good place ) positive traits : captivating , confident , loyal , passionate , coquettish , benevolent , affectionate, authentic & courageous negative traits : manipulative , stubborn , vain , insecure , abrasive , possessive , hypocritical & dramatic aesthetic : plumping lip gloss , dewy skin , blowdried bouncy hair , satin sheets , matte nail polish , binge watching romcoms whenever upset , day drinking , chanel eau tendre perfume sprayed at the nape of her neck , impulsive shopping sprees , counting the number of strokes while brushing hair every night , pretending to be busy with work to have a spa day instead of going out , rose petals scattered in a hot bath .

* ◟ personality .

generally speaking , lena is a v captivating person . she can light up any room she walks into with her contagious smile . most people would peg her for having a facade but tbh unless directly provoked she truly is nice !

due to her family’s surname & connections she pulled to start up her own skincare & haircare brand , lena gets a lot of hate. like A LOT. either it coming from other brand owners or simply the online haters , they all think she tries half as hard as the other women in the industry aka that she didn’t deserve what she has now & it definitely left a mark on her . only those who are actually close to her personally know how hard she actually works & the devotion , care and time she puts in her products .

when it comes to her friends , she’s extremely loyal & 9/10 times would do absolutely anything for them . like , you need a place to stay ? you need money ? you need someone to pick your drunk ass at 4am ? she’s your girl . but at the same time if you did something like EXTREMELY bad to tarnish the love & care she has for you…. oh boy . let’s just say she can hold a grudge for years & is resentful as hell .

is extremely coquettish & a big attention ho™ .

loves beautiful things ( read: vain ) including herself ! you can catch her taking selfies everywhere she goes or spending lots of time pampering & showering herself with beautiful clothes , accessories & other “ beauty accouterments “ that catch her eye .

deep down , she truly wants to find that ridiculous , inconvenient , consuming , can’t-live-without-each-other love that her parents had . she’s the ultimate romantic & won’t settle for less but in truth , she’s known for being flighty af ? let’s just say that the only difference between her & taylor swift is that she doesn’t write songs about her exes lmao & can bounce quicker than you can blink if she sees one red flag .

overall lena really isn’t the type to casually date . like she wants to cook you dinner , snuggle , go on romantic trips , surprise you with your favorite things , be your best friend & hold your hand all the time not wait for 1.75 hours for a text back .

so in retrospect she seems like the perf gf to have, right ? wellllllllll…. in most aspects , yes , because she would put you 1st for sure & probably slap a bitch in your name but…. she can also get extremely possessive & jealous . it comes off small but the longer she’s with someone the more she gets like “ why are you talking to her “ “ let me see your phone “ “ don’t you lie to me ! ! “ “ DARLING I’M A NIGHTMARE DRESSED LIKE A DAYDREAM ! ! “ lord have mercy .

says she hates gossip but….. LOVES GOSSIP .

says she doesn’t manipulate people into getting things her way…. BUT DOES.

says she doesn’t have grudges but…. TENDS TO THEM LIKE LITTLE PETS.

says she’s not dramatic while throwing rose petals around , dressed in evening wear during the day , draping herself across the piano …. SHE’S DRAMATIC .

says she’s dehydrated and….. HAS A GLASS OF CHAMPAGNE .

　 ˚ detailed biography . ˚ wanted connections . ˚ pinterest . ˚ penthouse tour . 　

#wealth.intro

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castlesrp · 2 months

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The Malik Family

Hermes : Luxury Travel Industry CONTENT WARNING: DEATH OF PARENTS (HOUSE FIRE), DEATH OF SPOUSE (DRUG OVERDOSE)

Ten years ago, tragedy struck for the Malik family - a family known for luxury and elegance in the hotel and travel industry, carrying a legacy akin to the Hiltons. A house fire took the lives of the patriarch and matriarch of the family, thrusting the responsibility of the family dynasty onto the shoulders of the eldest son. What started as a meager hotel business soon spread into a global entity of resorts and luxury getaways under the easy to remember umbrella name of the family namesake: Malik.

With the passing of his parents, First Malik (52) took over as the CEO and Chairperson for the company a decade ago and has felt huge mounting pressures over the last ten years as the organization continues to grow and expand. This has left a void with his wife First Malik (57) and three children, as he has become consumed with his work and making sure that he does his parents proud. Aiding him in this pursuit is his brother First Malik (48), working as the Head of Marketing and Branding. His wife First Malik (50) is a former model turned spokesperson for the company, appearing in many of their commercials and print advertisement material and together they have a young daughter. Another tragedy befell the middle child, when First Patel (46)’s husband passed away from a drug overdose three years ago. Similar to her eldest brother, she has allowed her work ethic to consume her grief, working as the General Manager of Malik-NYC, one of the crown jewels of luxury in New York City. This has led to a strained relationship with her daughter.

Providing an adjacent career and still helping the family name are the twins First Malik (42) and First Malik (42). Both are renowned architects who have used their skills to design upcoming resorts and hotels for the Malik brand. Their collaborative efforts have left an indelible mark on the company’s global footprint, further aided by First Malik (40) who serves as the Head of Global Expansion and Development. In this role, she traverses the globe, securing investments and locations for her twin siblings architectural creations. Between the three of them, they have a list of upcoming resorts and hotels that will debut around the globe in the next few years, further cementing the name “Malik” in the minds of anyone wanting to get away and relax in the lap of luxury.

At the end of the family tree is First Malik (38), taking a completely different route and going to culinary school. She has since been hired on as the Head Caterer at Petal, a Michelin-starred restaurant in Manhattan owned and managed by First Monroe (47), providing a unique alliance of sorts between the two families. The Malik family may have been riddled with tragedy over the years, but continues to defy the odds and maintain their status within the elite circles of New York City.

First Malik: Deceased, N/A, N/A, Unavailable + First Malik: Deceased, N/A, N/A, Unavailable

First Malik: 51 Years Old, CEO and Chairperson of Malik, Kumail Nanjiani, Available + First Malik: 57 Years Old, Open Occupation, Sandra Bullock, Available ----- First Malik, 29 Years Old, Open Occupation, Zayn Malik, Available ----- First Malik, 27 Years Old, Open Occupation, Sophia Ali, Available ----- First Malik, 25 Years Old, Open Occupation, Anya Chalotra, Available

First Malik: 48 Years Old, Head of Marketing and Branding of Malik, Riz Ahmed, Available + First Malik, 50 Years Old, Open Occupation, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, Available ----- First Malik: 24 Years Old, Open Occupation, Amita Suman, Available ----- First Malik: 21 Years Old, Open Occupation, Avantika, Available

First Patel: 46 Years Old, General Manager of Malik: NYC, Priyanka Chopra, Played by Chels + First Patel: Deceased, N/A, N/A, Unavailable ----- First Patel: 25 Years Old, Open Occupation, Naomi Scott, Available

First Malik: 42 Years Old, Architect, Sonam Kapoor, Available * * Note: Malik (42) and Malik (42) are fraternal twins

First Malik: 42 Years Old, Architect, Rahul Kohli, Available * * Note: Malik (42) and Malik (42) are fraternal twins

First Malik: 40 Years Old, Head of Global Expansion and Development for Malik, Deepika Padukone, Available

First Malik: 38 Years Old, Caterer at Petal, Jameela Jamil, Available

#jcink rp #rp #jcink #roleplay #canon rp #canons

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loveforlandonorris · 6 months

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2023 Season

Awards:

○ Lando's words after winning British Competition Driver of the Year at the 2023 Autosport Awards

Discussing His Career:

○ Lando on McLaren's turnaround in 2023

○ Sky Sports F1 YouTube video with Lando & George reviewing their careers so far upon reaching 100 races

○ Lando joking about retiring after his first win (featuring George)

○ Lando & George on the significance of Silverstone

Events

○ Velocity Invitational Event '23:

● Lando setting off in Prost's MP4/2A-01 at the Velocity Invitational event yesterday

● Lando after driving Prost's car at the Velocity Invitational event yesterday

● Lando on driving Senna's MP4/6 at the Velocity Invitational event in California

○ McLaren Sponsor Events:

● Lando answering fans' IG questions at the Tumi event before the Vegas GP '23

● Lando at the Culture Kings event before the Vegas GP '23

● Lando with fans at the Culture Kings event before the Vegas GP '23

Games / Q&As

○ Just Lando:

● Lando answering quick-fire questions about the grid at the Culture Kings event before the Vegas GP

● Lando answering a UK vs USA 'this or that' at the Culture Kings event before the Vegas GP

● Lando in the Hilton Honors Hot Seat

● Lando being tested on his knowledge of slang words

○ With Other Drivers:

● 'Who's Most Likely To...' (with Lando, Oscar, Yuki & Alex)

● 'Your Go-To Mario Kart Character' (with Lando, Oscar, Daniel, Yuki, Alex & Esteban)

Golf

○ Ryder Cup '23:

● Lando discussing his love for golf

● Lando's golf skills live on Sky Sports

● Lando participating in the Hilton Chipping Challenge at the Ryder Cup '23

○ The Netflix Cup:

● Trailer for The Netflix Cup

● Information about The Netflix Cup

● Photos of Lando at The Netflix Cup

● Lando & his teammate Rickie Fowler on their experience of The Netflix Cup

LandoLOG

○ We're Back Karting Again - LandoLOG 028

● Lando talking about driving his LN Kart

● Lando on seeing kids using his kart

○ 24 Hours At The Ryder Cup - LandoLOG 029

● Lando watching Jon Rahm's mis-hit at the Ryder Cup

○ I took a camcorder to an F1 race - LandoLOG 030

○ I've got 4 NEW teammates- LandoLOG 031

Lando Norris Plays (YouTube)

○ Lando playing Marvel's Spider-Man 2

Personal Life

○ Quadrant's 3-Year Anniversary (November 6th 2023)

○ Post for Lando's 24th birthday

○ Video of Lando's Vegas birthday party organised by Hilton Hotels

○ Lando on turning 24 (from his interview with The Today Show on his birthday)

Twitch Streams

○ Fortnite Stream (11/12/23)

● Lando playing Squid Game games on Fortnite

● Lando joking about creating an OnlyFans and giggling on stream

● Lando playing Squid Game games on Fortnite & being chaotic on stream

● Lando playing Green Light, Red Light on Fortnite & being chaotic again on stream

● Lando having a laughing fit at his friends' antics on stream

● Lando at the end of the stream

○ 'Just Chatting' stream + playing Escape From Tarkov (13/12/23)

● Lando trolling (and being trolled) on stream

● Lando's top-tier sarcasm on stream

● Lando talking about his travel plans over the next few weeks on stream

#lando norris #landonorris #ln4 #mclaren #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #Off-Track Content

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jjuwuni · 2 years

Text

caught in his web ; choi yeonjun (𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖)

pairings — yeonjun x afab reader

genre — smut (lots of it so minors dni please), fluff, angst, college!au, friends to lovers, drama

word count (for this preview) — 1.7k

summary — You thought you’d be immune to Choi Yeonjun's charms, turns out you were completely, utterly, shamefully wrong.

And what’s worse? He’s your new best friend's boyfriend.

Wanna hear something even worse than that? His dad and your mom are dating.

MOA University: An educational institution created for the 1%. The elite of the elites. Those who are to inherit large multinational companies, take oath in office, and represent Korea's future in business and politics. This is where it begins.

warnings — almost-stepbro!yeonjun but not really since your parents are in the early stages of dating, kinda slow burn yes, black haired!yeonjun, bad boy yeonjun, all of you are trust fund babies, all the tubatu's make a cameo and are in the same friend group, might reference some other 4th gen idols, alcohol, drinking, drunken mishaps, lots of sex, profanity - lots of it, yeonjun is a menace but he's so cute wtf i'm screaming, jealousy, making out etc. minors dni istg! i'm watching y'all..

A/N: hello! i'm new to the TXT scenario / fanfic scene. i don't have a taglist or anything yet. :( but please let me know if you'd like to be tagged as this story progresses!

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

You are a walking paradox. That’s the only way to describe you.

You like attention, yet you're not all too fond of crowds and socializing. You love to find a quiet place to read with a good book in hand, but you enjoy partying with your friends just as much. You dream of finding your prince someday, and yet you're too independent to ever let someone in.

“y/n, would you please be a dear and put that damn book down? People are coming at any minute and it really would be a buzzkill to see someone huddled up at the corner of the room with a book on her lap when it’s supposed to be a raging party.” Chaewon’s words ever so gracefully rolled off her tongue.

You stood up to your feet and sauntered across the huge living room that doubled as tonight’s party space, putting the Haruki Murakami book in your purse.

It was Chaewon’s house- or should you say, mansion after all. So whatever she says, goes.

You and Chaewon have been friends since the Freshmen year of University started. Not that it had been too long ago, since you're just in your sophomore year. Nevertheless, you found a lot of similarities in her. Not because of wealth, but because she also has her inner demons, and that you both understand what it means to put up a front to society.

Because in the elite circle that you operate in - it’s easy to be judged.

Your mom is a famous model turned fashion designer, with about twenty-plus years of experience in the business. Once she started out as a new model, her career didn't take long to skyrocket. Today, your family owns about a hundred clothing stores worldwide, as your mom’s high-end fashion label became that of a global empire.

It’s still surreal to you, how she was able to single-handedly do that. Given that your birth father packed and left even before you were born. But unlike other newly single moms, your mom didn’t struggle financially- thanks to her talent and creative vision in fashion and of course, your wealthy grandparent's financial support.

Fast forward to the present time and you now find yourself studying in one of the most prestigious Universities in Seoul - MOA University. Here, there’s a known stigma that all the rich kids, the socialites, and CEO’s-to-be are to be enrolled in the institution.

And so this is where you find yourself now.

Your best friend Chaewon on the other hand is who one would describe as the Paris Hilton of your generation, wherein she’s expected to inherit a large chain of hotels when she’s of a certain age.

*ding dong*

As the doorbell rang and bodies began to trickle in the large estate, you found yourself sitting on one of the bar stools in the bar area outside by the pool, deciding to relocate there as it was getting stuffy in the living room area, already ordering a cocktail for yourself. It was a school night, but as soon as you’re invited by the Kim Chaewon to a party, you go. Simple as that. This is why you weren't surprised when the whole area was filled with MOA-U students within a matter of minutes.

“y/n!” A familiar voice called out for you from behind, making you swivel your bar stool to face the source of the noise.

“Soobin oppa!” You chimed upon verifying who it was from, opening your arms out to hug him as he returned it with no hesitation.

“What are you doing here alone? I saw the others back there..” He said as he took a seat beside you on the bar. He was pertaining to your other friends apart from Chaewon - meaning Yeji, Jimin and Minjeong- all daughters of CEO’s and Chairman’s as well.

Soobin’s group of friends can be described as the male version of yours, and so, you just naturally got along and gravitated toward one another as a group. “Ah yes,” I finally respond, “I wasn’t all up to party today, you know? Just.. Not in the mood today for it. So I retreated here.”

His cute childish grin shows, “Ah I get you.”

“Who all came with you today, oppa?”

Soobin looked back over his shoulder, nodding his head towards the other side of the pool where the lounge chairs happened to be situated. “Oh, you know the usual, Jjunie, Beomgyu, etc. The others are hitting up a bar first before going here, mm.”

You look over to where he was pointing at and saw his friends mingling with yours. Naturally, Chaewon and the guy he referred to as Jjunie (also known as Yeonjun) were caught in a liplock already.

You grimace, not really wanting to witness your friends’ make-out session at that point- you just weren't drunk enough.

“Ah, getting it on already huh?” Soobin was always the joker, as he managed to make the both of you laugh and return to sipping on your cocktails.

“Well can you blame them? The real estate mogul’s son and the heiress to the chain of the Kim hotels? It’s like a match made in heaven.” You couldn’t help but snicker, as Soobin did the same.

“Hey our families match too don’t you think? Since you know, your mom is a fashion legend and my parents own a broadcasting company isn’t it- just- no? No?” He asked repeatedly in a teasing manner while you shook your head jokingly.

“Oppa, no, stop.” I could barely voice my words out as you are caught in a fit of giggles. “Ah, you are so funny.”

“So what are we laughing about? Hm~?” A voice suddenly interjected your little conversation, as simultaneously you feel an arm wrap over the back of your neck.

“Hey Yeonjun, ah, nothing… We were just talking about how our parents should really set us up and let us date already.” Soobin said as the older male’s head popped in between yours and his, with his arms hooked over both your necks.

“Well, that’s only if, y/n allows you to. But I don’t think she will since she’s known to be really picky, right y/n?” Yeonjun’s smirk was present- it was the same one that has all the girls of MOA-U drooling over him, and Chaewon was no exception.

To you though, he was someone whom you saw as a complete opposite in terms of personality and outlook, and so you were never really completely friendly with each other. Sometimes, you would even find yourself putting up a wall, only because he intimidated you at times and you know he is nothing but bad news.

You could only manage to laugh, as you take a sip from your margarita. It’s no secret that Soobin has always had a thing for you, and though you do welcome the thought of dating, you're much too focused on other things at this point in time.

“Jjun, I need you. Now.” Chaewon’s voice bellowed from behind, effectively making the male break apart from you and Soobin.

“So, wanna dance?” Soobin asked as soon as there were no other bystanders around, of course, you readily agreed. Might as well enjoy the night, you tell yourself. Grabbing his hand and leading him back into the makeshift dance floor in the living room.

You two join the rest of the party-goers in the middle of the dance floor, with Soobin holding you from behind - arms wrapped around your waist securely as you both move to the rhythm of whatever EDM track was booming through the speakers. You allowed yourself to bask in the moment and have fun, closing your eyes and letting the music take over.

Though you couldn't help but feel this unexplainable weight on your shoulders, almost as if you were being watched the whole time.

————-　★　-————

“At what time did you get back home, honey?” Your mom peers up from her morning paper, as she stares across you from the long white-marbled dining table the next morning.

The smell of bacon, bread, and all sorts of pastries filled the dining room area, servants were busy doing their own thing behind the dining area by the kitchen.

You glance back up from your bowl of oatmeal and to your mother, “Hm? Ah I don’t know, around one maybe.”

“Hm.” She pursed her perfectly shaped lips but said nothing else.

Your mother didn’t look a day over thirty. As a matter of fact, you’ve always been mistaken to be sisters, and not as a mother-daughter tandem. She was also quite lenient with you as well, which is something a lot of teenage girls would like.

But if you were to be asked, she was all too lenient.

“Come home by dinner today, k? I have someone I want to introduce to you.”

Your eyebrows quirk upwards at the words that came out of your mother’s mouth. Rolling your eyes as if you already knew what this is all about. “Oh, mom. Another one, really? This one better be good. The last one was okay, but I feel like he was trying so hard to be my dad, you know? It was so uncomfortable.”

“He was a Prince, sweetheart. A royal prince! I couldn’t say no.”

Another exasperated sigh left your lips, your mom and her revolving door of men. “Well let’s hope you pick better this time. But okay, I’ll be home after I hit the library after school, promise. Tell the driver to pick me up at six.”

————-　★　-————

“So you can’t come tonight?” Yeji asked as you walk down the halls of MOA-U to your last period. “I was hoping you would though. Chaewon said she can’t come either since Yeonjun isn’t coming. I think he said he has some family affair to go to.”

“Well you know those two,” You cast a knowing look over to your friend, crossing your index and middle finger together tightly, “Like two peas in a pod.” Another laugh follows suit from the both of you, “I’m really sorry Yej, I promised my mom I’d be home by dinnertime… Hmm, how about this, I’ll go visit your art gallery tomorrow morning first thing, okay?” You reassure her, holding onto her arm and nodding vigorously.

“Ugh, fiiiiine! You better make it up to me, y/n!” Yeji answered with a pout.

“Oh I will, promise!”

————-　★　-————

As you stride down the hallway leading up to the dining hall in your house that night, you could already hear a few voices coming in from there, it sounded like whoever was in there was having a good conversation.

You could pick out your mom's familiar voice, but also two others who seemed to be males.

“I’m home..” You call out, placing your small bag atop one of the wooden tables and walk into the actual area where the dining table was situated.

What greeted you as soon as you looked up was something you would have never expected.

You were caught by surprise, seeing such a familiar face there. Your jaw on the floor and standing motionless at the guy sitting in one of the plush dining set chairs. It was obvious that he was trying his hardest not to laugh, almost as if he predicted that this would be your reaction to him.

“Y-you… you…” You muster out, index finger shakily pointing towards Yeonjun.

“Ah honey, you’re here... “ Your mother, ignoring the horror and utter shock in your face, remarked. “I’d like you to meet my new boyfriend, Choi Minjun and of course, you know his son… I heard you and Yeonjun even have the same friends in school! Ah! Isn’t this great? Just, splendid.”

You stand there almost like an iceberg, frozen in place and unwavering, mouth hanging agape while the bad boy of MOA-U is loving every second of it.

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ohc-and-the-music-tapes-archive · 9 months

Text

Article about "Music Tapes for Clouds and Tornadoes" and Music Tapes' 2008' shows. Flagpole, 13 August 2008

[source]

transcript:

Music Tapes for Clouds and Tornados is a wintry thing, full of insistent sleigh-bells, delicate chimes and mournful singing saws. It’s the newest album from Julian Koster, the former Neutral Milk Hotel multi-instrumentalist who also releases his own works under the name The Music Tapes.

In a recent interview sitting under a Prince Avenue tree on a balmy Athens afternoon, Koster laughs at the prospect of the album's release during the sweltering Georgia August. “Yeah, we always seem to put out these winter-ish albums in the summer or the spring,” he says. For the most part, though, the albums come out when they come out—and it’s been nine years since a Music Tapes album was released. In fact, talk of this new disc has been circling in Athens and online for years.

“After four years, I am happy to say that Music Tapes for Clouds and Tornados is about done. All except for one final song that I am beginning now. So, soon,” Koster wrote in March of 2004 on the E6 Townhall, an online messageboard dedicated to all things Elephant 6. “It will be lovely and fun to send it out into the world to begin a life of its own at last.”

Four-and-a-half years after that post, Music Tapes for Clouds and Tornadoes finally made its way into the public sphere. Laden with scratches and audio clutter that make it sound like a relic from some long-forgotten 19th-century circus of morose whimsy—Come Marvel at the Monumental Imaginarium!—the album carries a weighty nostalgia, attributable to its chilly noises, but also to memories in the liner notes of Athenian musician friends like Will Westbrook and Bo Tompkins, who both passed away in the past several years. Music Tapes for Clouds and Tornados makes the late-’90s Elephant 6 heyday seem very long ago, but it also carries a sense of immediacy and completion rarely seen in Athens music in those days—the album is a complete whole, and it feels both highly personal and of a community.

Koster moved from Athens half a decade ago, splitting his time between here and New York City before settling on a small island off the coast of Maine. “I left Athens in 2002, or somewhere thereabouts. My entire life I've moved from place to place pretty constantly,” he says. “That was the way it unfolded in my childhood, through no force of my own, but somehow I just never stopped even when I was alone or on my own. I would always be in Athens or New York City on and off.”

The island getaway is a huge, multi-bedroom house rented for a few hundred dollars in a part of New England that acts as a summer retreat for the well-to-do, but in the winter-time folds into itself as the sunbirds return home, leaving only a handful of full-time residents. Koster visited the ocean every day, spent time with his dog Rudolph and other friends, collected ancient recording devices and wrote songs. He says the solitude allowed him to refocus his interaction with the outside world while cultivating his ever-active imagination. “Y'know, it’s like suddenly there’s this place I love or this thing I love, and I can go there and interact with it like a kid,” he says. “The parts of my brain that used to make make-believe games when I was a kid continues to grow and make things, and sometimes they're records, sometimes they're stories, sometimes they're infinitely more complex ways of relating to being an existing creature that doesn’t make a product that you can share with someone, so there’s a certain solitude inside of yourself that can also grow and become part of what you live in, along with trying to relate to the world like a little kid.”

This week's PopFest show is the band’s big coming out performance, and Koster says he hopes it'll start a period of reactivation for his musical career. Onstage, expect to find musicians Laura Carter, Robbie Cucchiaro, John Fernandes, Theo Hilton and Scott Spillane, among others, performing alongside a spectacular seven-foot metronome Koster had built especially for live performances. Koster says that other special guests may poke in for a song or two, including Athens stalwarts Vernon Thornsberry and Jill Carnes. Currently working out the specifics of a national—and perhaps international—tour is on Koster’s mind, and he says he'd like to hit the road in October, circling the country on some sort of an Elephant 6 Revue jaunt (although he'd never call it that), perhaps focusing on Music Tapes stuff, perhaps more. He has ideas of a big stage performance involving “me, W. Cullen Hart, Scott Spillane, many more, a whole ton of us, playing all of our music as an orchestra, a special program, all sorts of nice things,” he says. It may, after all, be a good time for an E6 renaissance of sorts; Neutral Milk Hotel's landmark album In the Aeroplane Over the Sea celebrated its 10th anniversary earlier this year, and many of the Athenian friends skirt national spotlights, with the Olivia Tremor Control's Bill Doss showing up on “The Colbert Report” last week playing with Robert Schneider's Apples in Stereo. Many of the groups missed the Internet hype machine age by just a few years, and the popularity of psychedelic pop explorers like Animal Collective could signal a willingness to re-embrace the crew. It's all contingent upon building a bridge between the real world and the imaginary, something that Koster seems dedicated to doing.

Chris Hassiotis

#the Music Tapes #Julian Koster #Music Tapes for Clouds and Tornadoes #articles #interviews #2008

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elvis1970s · 2 years

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In June of 1977, 45 years ago this year, Elvis embarked on his final road tour. He was booked to go out again on August 17th, and then, later in 1977, to open the new Hilton Pavilion, a new 5 000 seat showroom at the Las Vegas Hilton.

It was an eventful, rollercoaster of a tour, with a television special being filmed, the sudden departure of drummer Ronnie Tutt for family reasons; Elvis intervened in a fight at a gas station on the way to his hotel in Madison, stormed out of his hotel in Cincinnati because he was unhappy with the air-conditioning, and after all that, his final show in Indianapolis was widely recognised as one of his best performances of his later career.

The Aztec style jumpsuit was worn every night with the exception of June 18th in Kansas, where Elvis wore the 'Arabian' style (bottom image), although confided to the audience with typical self-deprecating humour that he had a little trouble squeezing into it.

Itinerary and Attendances:

June 17: SW State University, Springfield, MO (9 000)

June 18: Kemper Arena, Kansas City, MO, (17 000)

June 19: Omaha Civic Center, Omaha, NE (10 604)

June 20: Pershing Auditorium, Lincoln, NE (7 500)

June 21: Rushmore Civic Center, Rapid City, SD (10 000)

June 22: Sioux Falls Arena, Sioux Falls, SD (7 911)

June 23: Veterans Auditorium, Des Moines, IA (11 000)

June 24: Dane County Coliseum, Madison, WI (10 000)

June 25: Riverfront Coliseum, Cincinnati, OH (16 795)

June 26: Market Square Arena, Indianapolis, IN (18 000)

(Stats thanks to Francesc Lopez and www.elvisconcerts.com)

#elvis history #rock history #elvis in the 70s #elvis presley #live music #musicians #elvis 1970s #elvis #elvis jumpsuits

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beardedmrbean · 8 months

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Houston Rockets guard Kevin Porter Jr. was arrested in New York City on Monday for allegedly assaulting his girlfriend, former WNBA player Kysre Gondrezick, police sources told ABC News.

Porter, 23, was formally charged with assault and strangulation.

Porter returned early Monday morning from an evening out to the Millennium Hilton near U.N. Plaza, where he and Gondrezick were staying. Gondrezick was upset with the late hour of his return and locked the door, according to police sources. Once he entered with the help of hotel security, Porter beat up the woman, the sources said.

Gondrezick was treated for a cut on the right side of her face and neck pain.

The pair was in New York City for Fashion Week. Porter and Gondrezick were photographed at the Vogue Smart Tox NYFW Kickoff event on Sept. 7.

MORE: NBA star Ja Morant sidelined after showing off gun on social media

Porter was drafted with the No. 30 pick in the 2019 NBA draft out of the University of Southern California, but has developed into a star player for the Rockets. He had his best career season in 2022-23 with 19.2 points, 5.3 rebounds and 5.7 assists per game.

Gondrezick, 26, played college basketball for Michigan and West Virginia, before being drafted No. 4 overall in the 2021 WNBA draft by Indiana. She played one season for the Fever before being waived. She has not played the last two WNBA seasons and is currently a free agent.

Porter was previously arrested in November 2020 in Ohio on a weapons charge, but a grand jury declined to indict him. However, the Cleveland Cavaliers made him inactive for the first half of the season and he was traded to Houston in January 2021.

#nunyas news

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hypnofur1 · 2 years

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Captured at the Con

By Hypnofur

Camille’s secret was that she was not as confident as she appeared. To the outside world, she had it all, a great career, a great husband, and still looked great despite her upcoming fortieth birthday. It was this milestone that had really been throwing her for a loop over the past year or so. Despite the fact that she could easily (and often did) pass for a woman in her early thirties, Camille was terrified of turning 40. Younger men still checked her out at the gym, constantly, but in her head, she thought that they thought of her as a cougar. Her mother had been left by her father at that 40. It had deeply affected her. Despite the fact that she knew Jake was crazy about her, she still worried about losing him. It was irrational, and unfounded, but it was there. It was this fear that caused her to snoop in Jake’s browser history.

Jake has never been worried about his wife looking at his history. He loved her dearly, but she was not at all skilled in computers. She could use her phone and tablet, but she never touched the laptop. After years of never seeing her approach it, he understandably became a bit more lax in covering his porn related tracks. Little did he know that Camille had asked her IT guy at work how she could look at a browser history. The IT guy had a bit of a crush on her, and never liked Jake. He was more than happy to give her step by step instructions to complete her mission.

One night when her husband was traveling, she hit the jackpot. He had a thing for erotic hypnosis. Camille read all about it. It was all a bit weird to her, but was definitely on the tamer side of what she was afraid she might find. She spent an entire evening researching and planning. She even found a Hypnosis Convention, a “hypno-con”, in Connecticut around the time of their anniversary. Camille knew she had found the sort of sexy adventure that would keep the spice in their marriage. She made all the necessary reservations.

Jake knew nothing of the details of Camille’s surprise getaway weekend. He didn’t know if they were going to Hawaii or Mexico. In fact, he was quite surprised when she told him to load the bags in the Volvo. Wherever they were going, it was within driving distance from their Westchester, NY home.

Camille had a mischievous smile the whole trip up to Connecticut but remained tight lipped. She set the GPS for a Hilton Garden Inn. Jake was very curious, but he didn’t try to pry or ruin the surprise. He was happy to be alone with his beautiful wife for a weekend. He really didn’t care where they might spend it.

They arrived and checked in. Camille told Jake she needed to freshen up, and for him to grab a drink from the mini bar and relax. He did so, but couldn’t help but notice it was taking her a long time in the bathroom. However, it was well worth the wait when she came out. She looked absolutely smoking hot. Her light brown hair was beautifully curled. Her make up was more dramatic than usual, giving her a very sultry look. She wore a new, short little sexy black velvet dress that Jake had never seen before. She had a sexy little black fox fur coat over her shoulders, as if she was ready to leave at that moment.

In truth, Camille knew full well that it would be a bit before they left that hotel room. She was delighted to see Jake’s eyes almost pop out of his head as he took in her sexy look. She knew that he was probably semi erect already, just from seeing her looking like this. It was time to reveal her grand plan, which she knew would make him hard as a rock.

“There is a special pre registration hour tonight at 6. We can get all checked in to the convention, so we don’t have to deal with that in the morning. Then we are going to go out to a nice dinner.” She told her husband, well aware that she left out some key details.

“It’s only 5… wait, what Convention? What are you talk-“ Jake started to ask as his mind started racing. He stopped mid sentence as he realized what Convention was in Connecticut this weekend. It was the Erotic Hypnosis Convention. He had seen it heavily advertised on the message boards he frequented. Of course he had secretly fantasized about going to it with her, but he never thought it would be a reality. It took him a moment to catch his breath as the realization of what was ahead of him this weekend washed over him.

“After this weekend, you’ll be able to put me in a deep, hypnotic trance with simply the snap of your fingers” Camille purred. “Then I’ll be completely under your control. Your complete hypnotized slave.”

That was too much for Jake to handle. His rigid cock was tenting his Khakis as he got up off the hotel bed and approached her.

"You are so beautiful," he said in with love as his hands fell to her hips. Camille’s pretty blue eyes glimmered as their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss and he brushed her golden brown hair from her pretty face. Her pulse quickened and their tongues touched inside the warm enclave of their sealed lips. Her heart raced and she kissed him harder. His strong hands moved to her soft ass and he pulled her tight. Her hands moved over his strong back as they stumbled back towards the bed. Camille sat down and gazed up at him. Her eyes twinkled mischievously as he helped her to her feet and kissed her deeply. Their tongues entwined and they writhed together. His hands roamed over her tight body and he lifted the hem of her dress, baring her smooth, shapely legs and firm, round ass. He lifted her dress to her waist and his smile widened when he saw her sexy black satin panties. Camille had just bought the bra and panties and she was thrilled that he noticed. He continued lifting her velvet dress and she put her hands over her head letting him take it off. Jake unfastened her bra and then pushed her panties down her toned, sexy legs. He guided her onto the bed and quickly stripped down to his plaid boxer briefs and then beyond. Camille sighed and ran her hands through his short, thinning hair. Her chest swelled with love as he looked up at her with hungry eyes and a ravenous smile as she coaxed him to her soft lips. They kissed deeply as his cock sank effortlessly into her warm depths. "You're so wet," he mused with a devilish grin. She didn’t respond to that, but she knew it was true. It was a factor of Jake being more excited than she had ever remembered. Their bodies joined and moved together as one. He thrust deep and she bucked to meet him. She gazed up at him and raked her manicured nails down his back. His pace quickened and she breathed deep and heavy. "Oh God, don't stop honey, you’re going to be able to hypnotize me soon!" Camille moaned as another climax lapped at her twisting body. Her pretty eyes rolled back and she groaned at the sweet release. Camille rolled Jake onto his back and straddled his waist. She impaled herself on his hard, delicious cock. She mentioned hypnosis again very much on purpose to keep him this hard. Her tits bounced as she rode him at a quick trot. He grabbed for her hips and thrust upwards. He grew bigger and harder and his breathing labored. Just hearing the words ‘hypnotize me’ come from her lips was fueling him like never before. "Cum for me my darling. Fill me up," she panted. She sat down hard, forcing the head of his cock against her cervix. She felt him erupt. His hot cum splashed into her womb as he groaned like a wounded animal, quieting only when she remembered the hotel walls may be thin. Camille collapsed on to of him. Her breasts pressed against his chest and she kissed him lovingly. She cooed contently as his spent dick shrunk and slipped from her. "That was amazing," Camille purred. "Was it good for you too?" "It was perfect. You are perfect," he replied quickly. She grinned like a love sick fool and rolled off his hard, muscular body. They snuggled for almost an hour, talking and caressing each other as they recovered from the ferocity of their respective orgasms. It felt so freeing for Jake to finally come clean to his beloved wife about his longtime hypnosis fetish. It had been a part of him for as long as he could remember, yet he had kept it hidden. It was hard for her to understand how it had such an intense impact on him, but she was trying. He loved her for that. "Well, we don’t want to miss the registration" Camille mused. The both had messy hair and they smelled like sex.”We can shower. It will take me a minute to get ready again.” She warned. "Totally worth it." He flashed her a wry smile and she purred softly. An hour later, they were walking out the door. Jake was completely starstruck over his beautiful wife that he loved so much. He felt like the luckiest husband in the world.

Meanwhile, at the Hypno-Convention pre-registration table, tensions were high.

“Mister… King Hypno, you have to leave” A heavy set man with many tattoos and kind eyes said. He was desperately hoping there wouldn’t be a problem.

“This is bullshit. I paid my money, just like everyone else” The man in his late forties, dressed all in black, with a small black crown, said to the conference organizer.

“Yes, but you used an alias” The tattooed organizer argued.

“King Hypno is an alias too!” the man in black shot back. (He had registered as “Hypnolearner52”)

“Sir, we told you very clearly you were not welcome. We take consent very seriously. It is the foundation of all we believe in”, the organizer said, firmly standing his ground. King Hypno had been barred months ago. His reputation on reddit and discord was abysmal at best. Everyone knew he was bad news. It was unanimous with those who put on the convention that he would be barred.

Two or three additional organizers came over to the table for a visual show of moral support. King Hypno could see this wasn’t going to happen for him. Threats of calling the Police where thrown around. King Hypno did NOT need another arrest on his record. He knew this battle was lost. He hissed out one more curse word, and left the registration table.

As he headed for the elevator, King Hypno was fuming. He didn’t really think he’d get in, but he was still hopeful. Sooo many potential subs were inside. If he could just get by that freakin’ table, he’d be home free. He could have his choice of who to put under his control. It could pay for his next year, and he could have soo many women desperate for his cock. Those fucking internet woke assholes calling him out!

As he was lost in his anger, the elevator door opened. Camille and Jake walked out. He of course checked out Camille immediately. She was incredibly hot. Tight little black dress. Black fox fur coat on her shoulders.Golden brunette hair. She was absolutely stunning. The big diamond on her hand told King Hypno she was married, presumably to the large man she was with. Oh well.

But then, King Hypno’s evening changed course. The large presumed husband looked at King Hypno in surprise. It only took a moment for the rejected pariah to realize that the man recognized him.

“You’re King Hypno!” Jake said, excitedly. He was excited that he was in the presence of what he considered to be a hypno celebrity, and excited to be able to be open about this stuff in front of his wife.

King Hypno took a moment to take in the couple. Were these people from the hypno con? They sure didn’t look like it. They looked like a well to do, WASPY country club couple who were dressed up for date night. Not the usual Con attendee.

“I am. And you are?” he asked.

“I’m Jake Butler.” The fan said, immediately thinking better of using his real last name. “And this is my wife Camille” he added, for a brief second proud that he didn’t use her last name, until he immediately realized that it was also Butler. He forgave himself though, this was a crazy situation, of course his brain would be a bit overloaded.

King Hypno smiled widely, taking Camille’s hand and kissing it. She was not really impressed with the man in black in front of her. He was skinny, and his clothes looked cheap. He had beady little eyes and a sharp nose. On top of his cheaply dyed, thin, black hair, he wore a stupid black crown with black jewels at the points. It had a black and white spiral on the front of it. She figured it went with his lame King Hypno name. She immediately became worried. Was he indicitave of the nerds they were going to encounter inside the Hypno Convention? Ugh. She kind of hated dorks.

“Are you participating in the Con? I thought you were….” Jake asked, hinting towards the barring.

“There were some… dissenters,” King Hypno admitted, but added theatrically, “But they soon came to see it my way, as most due…”

Jake couldn’t help but smile. The guy was a freaking legend. He had been watching his videos and other content for 15+ years. He couldn’t believe he was actually meeting him in person.

“Is this your first Con?” King Hypno asked Camille…. And Jake too, to a degree.

“Yeah. Yes. Jake’s into this stuff. Jake, babe, it’s 6:30. We should get to the registration table.” Camille said. She was hoping this conversation would end soon, and that was certainly a hint towards that. This guy gave her the creeps a little bit with his stupid crown.

“I see. And how about you? Have you ever been hypnotized before?”

“Yes” answered Camille. This was also news to Jake. Big news. In fairness to Camille, she didn’t know he was so into all this hypnotism stuff until recently, so it had never come up. She was planning to bring it up at some point this weekend, but she had really planned to use the info-bomb at a more opportune time for her. However, this creepy crown guy asked, so she answered. Whatever.

“How was it?” asked King Hypno.

“Umm, good? I don’t remember much” she admitted. Ok, she was definitely not using this info to its maximum potential like she had planned to.

“Was it at a show?” he asked. Camille nodded as Jake stared at her wide eyed.

“High School? College?.” King Hypno asked.

“College” she said.

“I was with you in college. When?” Jake asked her. She wasn’t surprised he was having trouble getting past this.

“Ithaca” she told him. Enough said. Jake knew, but often forgot, about her time at Ithaca College. She had gone there for only one semester. She hated it, and rarely spoke of it. She had once told him, it was too boring to even bring up. She transferred to U Albany second semester Freshman year. She met Jake junior year there, and the rest was history.

“Wonderful. I’m sure you were a terrific subject.” King Hypno said. “I’m sure your husband would like to see you slip under hypnosis again. Would you oblige him? “

“Uh, I guess. Like, right here?” Camille asked. Was he really going to try this in an elevator lobby? This was so weird! At that point she really wasn’t sure she was going to make it through the whole weekend with these weirdos.

The experienced hypnotist knew he needed to get moving before she lost the focus/nerve. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll have you both stand with your legs shoulder with apart. I want you to keep a good sense of balance.”

Camillie did so, somewhat begrudgingly.

The man in black took a step closer. He took his right hand and raised it up to be in line with Camille’s eyes. He pointed to his his hand and said, “I’m going to have you focus right up here for me.” Camille’s eyes went to his hand. She realized his tone had become much more… smooth, confident.

“You remember at the show you were at, the hypnotist said the word ‘sleep’. Now, since you’ve been hypnotized before, you are going to go even quicker. When I say that word, you are not going to go to sleep, you are not going to fall asleep. You are simply going to allow yourself to drop into an amazing state of relaxation, focusing, focusing only on the sound of my voice. I want to make sure we are doing this safely, so you are never going to be so relaxed that you fall over.

“So, now, you can let yourself take a deep breath in…” King Hypno said as he raised his left hand up in the air.

“…and take a deep breath out and SLEEP!” he said as he snapped his fingers and rested his left hand on her fur covered shoulder. Jake watched as his the famed hypnotist took his right hand and placed it on his wife’s forehead as she dropped down her head down to her chest. He felt his cock harden as he saw his beautiful wife slip into trance for the first time ever. He had dreamed of how she would look in trance for so long.

King Hypno continued, “dropping deeper and deeper.” As he snapped his fingers again. “Deeper and deeper.” and Deeper and deeper.” Finger snap. “Staying balanced on your feet this entire time. Loose limp, so relaxed as your arm falls down its side. Going deeper and deeper with each breath you take.” Finger snap. “Every breath you take helps you go even deeper and more focused. Each word I say, takes you even deeper and more relaxed.”

She was now even more bent over, right there in the elevator lobby. His hands were on her shoulders. She was clearly very deep entranced. “Each sound you hear helps you go even deeper. So focused on the sound of my voice. Going deeper and deeper. Deeper and deeper. Hearing only my voice. My voice brings you deeper and deeper as you focus on it more and more. My voice is all you hear, my voice is all that matters. Feel yourself just going deeper and deeper.” Another finger snap, and he removed his hand from her shoulder. She was standing there, her head and shoulder bent over, but feet keeping her upright.

Jake could tell she was deeply hypnotized. He couldn’t believe it. And as King Hypno stepped in front of him, he knew he was next.

The man in the crown could tell by the look on Jake’s face that he was going to fall easily. The fan boys always did. And he was right. Using the exact same induction that the hypnotist knew had partially already entranced the husband, it was an even faster process to get Jake to drop than his wife.

So there, the two first time convention goers were deeply hypnotized in the elevator lobby, just one short hallway away from the pre registration table. One short hallway away from a bunch of caring, consent based people who would have realized what was going on and tried to stop it. Just one hallway away, but still too far.

King Hypno continued. “Now, both of you focused only on the sound of my voice. Always staying on your feet. Even deeper, every time I say the word SLEEP” he said with a finger snap, “You go even deeper with each snap of my fingers. Every time I tell you to SLEEP, you drop deeper and deeper to this state of complete and total hypnotic relaxation where you are focused only on my voice. Focused only on my voice and my commands….”

With that, the couple followed the unwelcome convention pariah back up to their room.

*************

"I’m starving," Jake said to Camille.

“Yeah, me too.” She said, a bit surprised. They had a late-ish lunch. She looked at her phone. It was 8:30! Where had the time gone?”

“Babe, its way past 8 already. We missed pre registration!” she said. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what had distracted them for two plus hours.

“Well, that was only pre-registration, right? I’m sure we can get in tomorrow morning.” Jake smiled as he kissed her tenderly. He was always calm when she started to get flustered. That was one of the things that made them work. “Let’s go to Alex’s nightclub” Jake said, surprising himself. Had he ever heard of Alex’s nightclub? He didn’t think he had, yet he heard it come from his lips. He went to look it up on his phone, and the address was already loaded into his GPS. He was just about to comment on how odd that was when Camille exclaimed that she loved Alex’s.

It was settled then, and off they went. On the way over, Camille buzzed with excitement. She was so excited to be around all of this hypnosis this weekend. She realized she had loved hypnotists since her brief stint at Ithaca. Hypnotists were so sexy! Once inside Alex’s they headed for the bar. Camille got a fruity mixed cocktail and Jake ordered a double bourbon, neat. His cock was swollen and the energy in the room felt electrically charged. Must have been the anticipation of the weekend’s convention. They found an empty high top table and scanned the room as the soaked in the atmosphere. On one side was a half filled dance floor. A DJ revved up the crowd and dance music thumped from his speakers. The other side had several couches and comfortable chairs. The crowd was an older, surburban crown. Camille noticed a few ‘dad-bod’ types checking her out. She was the most stylish woman here. By a lot. She was very unimpressed with the clientele.

Her eyes stopped and she bit down when she saw HIM walking towards the bar. He was dressed all in black. His hair was dark, as were his small but intense inset eyes. Her eyes darted furtively to the crown atop his head. They widened when she saw the spiral at the front that designated that was a hypnotist and she squeaked like a mouse. The man looked at her and nodded. He had the cocksure confidence of a man who knew his power and he looked at Camille like she was a gazelle on the Serengeti and he was a lion ready to pounce. An enormous pit formed in her belly and a tingle started in her pussy. It was an inherently primal response to a powerful creature and her knees felt rubbery and weak. He held her gaze as he walked past and continued towards the bar. Camille's eyes followed him as he moved past her and an involuntary moan slipped from her lips. "Oh my God," she murmured under her breath. She loved Jake deeply. They were the model married couple to all of their friends. She didn't want to hurt him but her draw, her physiological response to the dark hypnotist was undeniable. "That’s King Hypno!," Jake said excitedly as he flashed Camille a fanboy smile. His hand brushed against hers and then he held it beneath the table. He gave it a gentle squeeze and looked into her beautiful eyes.”I’m so glad we finally came to a Hypno Convention”

“Me too” she confirmed, “I’ve wanted to for so long. Since Ithaca” The hypnotist now walked towards her with a drink in his hand. Their eyes met and Camille shuddered. A sexy smile danced on her pretty face and she gazed into his small dark eyes. "Hello," he said. "My name is King Hypno." He spoke with velvet voice and she giggled like a smitten schoolgirl. King Hypno moved a chair to Camille's side and sat so close to her that she could feel the heat from his body. Her mind was racing and her breath caught in her chest. "You are here for the Hypno Convention, am I right?"

“Yes, I’m a big fan of your work. I’m Jake” the husband said, offering his hand.

The dark hypnotist accepted the husbands hand shake offer, looking deep into his eyes as he did so. “You are a fan of my hypnotic power? You have seen me hypnotize countless people with my hypnotic stare” he said, not breaking the stare or letting go of his hand.

Camille could see that Jake was immobilized. She lost her breath. Her heard was beating intensely.

“You are being hypnotized right now Jake. You are completely lost in my eyes. Lost in my eyes Jake. You are in my thrall. You are my servant. Pleasing me and serving me is paramount to you. My will is all. You will happily obey me, wanting only to see me pleased. I am your King. Isn’t that right Jake?”

“Yes, your majesty” Jake said in a far away voice.

With that, King Hypno turned his attention to the beautiful Camille, who was trembling at this point. “You see he is mine now, don’t you?” he asked calmly. "Yes," she replied timidly. His hand moved to her bare knee and her eyes widened. "As you will be." He stated as his fingers brazenly crept up her thigh, moving the hem of her black velvet dress with it and she squeaked. His bold touch was electric and she needed him badly. There eyes met, and his words started. It was as if his voice was in her head. His power was undeniable. His will was everything. He was everything. He was her hypnotic King. The couple thought only of pleasing and serving King Hypno. They were so lost, that they didn’t even realize they were in King Hypno’s hotel room (which, not coincidentally was a short walk from Alex’s night club). The energy in the room was palpable as Jake released her hand and Camille walked over to King with a wide, eager grin plastered on her pretty face. Still in her black fox fur jacket, she slipped her soft arms around his trim waist and they kissed. King smelled very different than any other man she had ever been with and his kiss tasted differently too. Both had a profound effect on Camille. It was raw and primal. Her juices flowed and her lust controlled her just as much as his hypnotic spell. She reached down and grabbed hold of his cock through his pants. It felt perfect for her, and she moaned into his searing hot mouth. Her eyes rolled back and she fumbled with his pants. They dropped to the ground and his cock sprung free, In truth, it was fairly modest, but to her at that moment it was pure perfection. She needed it and the world around her disappeared as she dropped, still clothed, to the floor before him to worship his hypnotic cock. King lifted his shirt over his head baring his pale white torso to her hungry eyes. He was actually no where near as muscular as her former UAlbany Linebacker husband, but he looked like the perfect man to her. She needed to taste him. She needed him inside of her. She was a slave to him and she loved it. Her desire overwhelmed her. Camille inhaled sharply drawing his powerful musk into her lungs. She licked her lips, wetting them as she gazed up the landscape of his skinny body and looked into his dark glimmering eyes. Her hands, both of them, grabbed the base of his shaft and she watched his expression as she took the head into her mouth. He tasted amazing and a fresh surge of moisture flooded her pussy. Her hands moved over his shaft and she cooed wantonly as she forced him into her throat as much as she could. Her panties were wet with the unmistakable aroma of her arousal wafted over her. She could feel Jake's eyes on her, watching her devour King's beautiful cock and surrender to it's power. Her face nuzzled against him, rubbing his scent on her skin like a content kitten brushing against its human. Her jaw tired but her lust did not wane. She rose to her feet as she stroked him with the soft fox fur of her jacket, desperate to give him as much pleasure as possible. "Pleas fuck me my King," Camille said in a voice raspy with lust. "Fuck me and breed me while my husband, your slave, watches."

King Hypno smiled.. He took off her fur and pulled off her velvet dress and she quickly removed her bra and panties. She laid back on the bed with her legs spread wide and looked into his eyes. His hard cock jutted lewdly from his weak physique. It glistened with saliva and precum and he moved between her legs. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized what was about to happen. For several years she had pleasured herself at the thought of being fucked by an African god. She had cum countless times imaging that very moment. She had Jake and she would soon have King. She was truly blessed. He slapped his cock against her clit and her body twitched. He rubbed the tip against her and she moaned loudly. He entered her and her body shook. His cock pressed hard against her cervix and she locked her toned legs around him, holding him deep. "He owns me Darling," Camille groaned to her husband. It was true. So true. He was her King, her Master. Her voice trembled and she squeezed her big soft breasts as she gazed up at her lord. She savored the sensation of his hypnotic cock. His hands mauled her soft, pale breasts. His hips began to thrust and she began to whimper. Her eyes closed and she came hard. So hard.

Camille looked up at him as her climax ebbed. She had never cum so quickly nor so hard and she knew he had just begun. His pace quickened and she grabbed at his hips. Her body bucked against him and a second climax washed over her. She tugged at the bed and her body tensed from head to foot. Her toes curled and her back arched. "Oh God, oh God, yes, yes," she chanted loudly. King rolled her onto her side and lifted her shapely leg, spreading her wide open. His cock went even deeper and she cried out in blissful agony. It was a euphoric sensation and Camille moaned loudly. Her flopped her onto her belly and laid on top of her with her legs together and his cock in her married pussy. He rammed it deep and the bed rocked. Her loud cries spilled into the hall through the closed door as King Hypno continued to fuck her hard and fast. His cock pummeled her pussy like a jackhammer and she lost track of how many times she had cum. His breathing labored and he sank deep. His load filled her. Then he pulled his cock from her and she groaned like a bitch in heat. Jake and Camille never made it to the convention. The rest of the weekend was spent with deep hypnotic programming, Camille worshipping her Master physically, and Jake doing other tasks (financial and otherwise) at his Master’s command.

To this day, they know they are servants of King Hypno.

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