“Very funny. Show me how you’re recording me right now. You’re not going to get any admission out of me. I’m not blackmailing you. I want that on the record.”
She shook her head. “You think I’m wired? Go ahead and frisk me. Find the wire.”
My heart bounced, but I needed to call her bluff. She was up to something. First, I checked her little purse, which had nothing but a few credit cards and her phone. I checked her phone to make sure it wasn’t set to record—and it wasn’t. So if she was recording, she was recording with something attached to her body.
I carefully reached out and placed both of my hands on her sides. I knew what wireless microphones felt like—I was constantly trying to hide them with artificial shadows while colour correcting movies. I ran my hands down her smooth, curvy sides, and then I reached around her back. Usually the microphone is attached to a small transmitter box, which they often attached to girls’ bra straps. But Vanessa wasn’t wearing a bra, and there were no little boxes.
But I kept exploring. I reached down around her waist and then I went down to her shoes. I could find nothing. And then I realized she might be hiding something at her package, where she knew I wouldn’t check. She knew I wouldn’t want to touch her cock or balls—but I had to check. I couldn’t let her leave that suite with a recording that could end my career.
I looked into her eyes. “Go ahead,” she said. “Check between my legs. I don’t mind. Just don’t be mad when you like it.”
I felt my face becoming warm as I looked back down at her crotch, covered only by the thinnest satin skirt. I reached a hand up. I ran my fingertips over her smooth skin until I found the lacy bulge of her panties. I slipped my fingers awkwardly under that bulge, making sure to check all the crevices, and then I slipped my fingers around her shaft, in case a thin microphone had been taped to her cock. But there was nothing.
“I told you I was clean,” she said.
“I had to make sure,” I replied with my voice cracking.
“But I was recording last night,” she said with a smile.
I was silent for a moment as that comment sunk in. “You’re lying,” I said.
She reached out and grabbed her phone. She pressed a few buttons and then I heard my own voice: “I’m just an opportunist. That’s all. Now let’s figure this deal out. If you pay the price, I promise I’ll delete the clip and you’ll never hear about this again.” A coldness overtook my whole body.
“Now I can take this recording to your boss, or you can pay me $350,000. What’ll it be?” she slowly crossed her legs, revealing that red lacy package for a brief second.
“I don’t have that kind of money. You know that,” I said through clenched teeth. I felt sick. I wanted to go back in time and never look for that damned clip. I wish I never discovered her secret.
“But you must have that kind of money. I had one of my people look into you. Apparently you’ve got a pretty nice house in a pretty nice neighbourhood. Word on the street is that you had a super rich uncle kick the bucket, but my guy couldn’t find anything about any uncle of yours—so I’m assuming that money came from clips like the one you have of me. Am I right?”
I was backed into a corner, desperate for any excuse that would come to my mind—but no excuses came. I was stuck. I had to pay up. But I really didn’t want to. $350,000 was almost half of my bank account. I risked so much making that money. I couldn’t just give it to someone who didn’t need it—someone who already had millions and millions more on the way. “I don’t have it,” I lied.
“Well maybe we can make a bit of deal. Maybe you can do something else for me in the meantime. For starters, you got me pretty excited when you played with my cock a minute ago.”
It was a good thing that I was sitting because my legs were now trembling violently. “What are you asking for?”
“Maybe you could suck me for a bit—make me come. It’s the least you could do after what I did for you yesterday.”
“I’m not gay,” I said, louder than my voice should have gotten. I quickly looked back at the door to make sure there were no shadows lingering in the slit underneath.
“I’m not a man,” she said. “Those are your options: lose your job, pay the money, or suck me off.”
My heart was pounding. I looked down at her crotch and found myself wondering: how bad could it be? It was just another part of her body, no different than her arms or her legs. I’m sure it was clean and it probably smelled just as nice as the rest of her. It would be over in a matter of minutes, and then I could delete that clip and send her on her way—pretend like this whole thing never happened.
I shook my head and I got down on my knees, in front of the super-famous Vanessa Klein. “Let’s get this over with,” I said, reaching up for her skirt.
CHAPTER IX
I gently pulled up her skirt and found myself staring at her lacy bulge. It was dark in that room, so I couldn’t make out too much detail—and maybe that was for the best. I found myself looked over at the door constantly, worried Alex or one of the other guys was about to bust in at any moment. Sadly, the doors weren’t equipped with locks. But I was fairly confident the guys would knock before coming in, with Vanessa there.
I slipped a single finger under that tight lacy strip of fabric and I pulled it aside, letting Vanessa’s cock and balls flop out. It took her shaft a few seconds to unfurl after having been stuffed into a tight lacy dungeon for the past few hours at least.
The cock wasn’t nearly as intimidating as I was expecting, even though it was big. It helped that she was all shaved and that she smelled like roses, even between her legs. I carefully slipped two fingers underneath her cock and lifted it up. It was surprisingly heavy, and remarkably smooth. I gently pulled back her foreskin and watched as her slick tip emerged. I knew she wanted me to suck her off, but I wasn’t sure how to start—and I still wasn’t sure I really wanted to do it. Maybe paying the money would have been better. Maybe getting fired wasn’t such a bad option.
“It’s not going to bite,” she said, looking down at me with red cheeks. I was surprised to see that her cheeks were red. Was she feeling vulnerable? She was always so confident, always with that smirk on her face, even when I was threatening to out her to the whole world. I didn’t realize she was capable of feeling vulnerable.
I took a deep breath and leaned forward. I lifted her limp cock up and slipped it into my mouth. There wasn’t any bad taste, like I was half-expecting. Though my heart wouldn’t stop pounding and my mind wouldn’t stop spinning. I knew that I was sucking a cock, which was something I never wanted to find myself doing.
I just kept reminding myself: ‘It’s either this or pay nearly half a million dollars.’ So I slipped that cock in further, letting it slide along my tongue. At least she was beautiful. At least she made an extremely convincing woman. At least her fingers felt feminine as they massaged my scalp.
Suddenly, I could feel throbbing. After a few bobs of the head, I could feel her cock becoming longer and thicker and harder. I could feel the emergence of veins, pressing firmly against the tight skin of her shaft. I could feel her tip swelling and becoming more round. She was getting an erection in my mouth. I suddenly had the urge to gag, but I held that urge back. If she was getting hard, then she was on her way towards ejaculating, and I was on my way towards being finished with this whole nightmare.
I could suddenly taste a bout of sweetness dribbling out onto my tongue. It was pre-cum, and it tasted surprisingly good. I sucked it down and swallowed it and I kept sucking. Now her cock was too big to fully fit into my mouth, so I used my hand to stroke what wouldn’t fit. She was hard now—as hard as a long chunk of wood. It was hard to bend her, so I just let the tip of her cock press against the roof of my mouth. I gagged every time her hard tip plunged down my throat, but I managed not to choke or throw up at all.
“You’re good at this,” she said. Her legs trembled momentarily, and then her knees pressed in against my arms. I kept stro
king and sucking. I was getting closer—I was almost done, almost free from her blackmail. And sucking cock wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. It was actually kind of fun in a strange way. It was exciting to think that I was drawing a beautiful celebrity closer and closer to an orgasm. I was about to make her explode—me—the poorly paid colourist. So many men would probably kill to be in my position, on my knees, sucking off one of the most famous women on the planet.
“I’m going to come,” she said with a strained voice. “I want you to swallow all of it—don’t let any fall out. Don’t waste it. Oh God, it’s coming. Don’t stop—please don’t stop.” My heart started pounding. I didn’t know what to expect. I’d never tasted cum before. What if I couldn’t swallow it? What if I gagged and spat it all up? Would she still let me off the hook? Would she delete that audio recording on her phone?
She clutched my hair tight and pulled my face in firmly against her pelvis. And then she started to unload, shooting her hot goo against the back of my throat. She groaned and squirmed while I struggled to breathe. I coughed and choked and gagged, but she wouldn’t let up. Some of her cum dribbled out from my mouth and down my chin, but I managed to swallow the rest of it.
Then she pulled back and looked down at my face. “You missed some,” she said, reaching down and wiping the cum off of my chin and into my mouth. It was a little bit sour, but I liked the taste, so it wasn’t hard to swallow. “Good boy,” she said, bending over and planting a kiss on my forehead. “Now let’s get back to colouring. I just find it so fascinating.” She settled back into her seat and crossed her legs casually as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
CHAPTER X
I went home that night with no idea of what had happened. I knew that I’d gotten a handjob from Vanessa Klein, and I knew that I’d sucked her off. But I wasn’t sure where that left us. Was I still supposed to expect the $350,000 in return for the clip? Or was she still expecting $350,000 from me in exchange for the damning audio file? Or were we just even now? Was she going to delete that file and was I supposed to delete the clip?
I found myself pacing in my living room, looking around at all of the things that I wouldn’t own if it wasn’t for my sneaky little side business—all of the things I would lose if I was caught. The entire house would be the first to go, and then my car. I would have to move into a small apartment, which meant I would have to get rid of ninety percent of my things. I would have to cancel my cable subscription, and all of my individual sports subscriptions—you basically need to be a millionaire these days to be able to afford any of that. And then what would I be left with? Nothing.
A new hard drive came into the office the next morning. It was another big blockbuster, another film staring a budding actress. And I wasn’t behind my desk for ten minutes before I saw what kind of outfits they had her in: little bikinis, lingerie, and the tiniest dresses you can buy without going to specialty stores for strippers. I quickly navigated over to the other folders on the hard drive, and sure enough, they had all of the pre-production content there, including the wardrobe pictures. And in that folder I found pictures of that cute little actresses in the skimpiest lingerie—outfits that never made the cut, probably because they were too racy. Those photos were probably worth at least a few thousand dollars.
And after a bit more digging I found a whole folder of behind the scenes footage. I went through the footage for an hour and hardly skimmed the surface. I had so much material to work with—surely I would find something worth at least twenty or thirty grand.
But then I hesitated. Had I not learned my lesson? Had I not already been given a lucky second chance? Did I not deserve to be in prison? How much more of this could I get away with?
Then, strangely, I found myself searching an old name on Google: Jessica Perkins, my first victim. There weren’t any new news stories on her. The newest I could find was two months old, a story about how she was being admitted into a rehab facility. I suddenly felt sick. Did I do that to her? Of course I did. She was probably a more-or-less normal girl before the whole world saw nude pictures of her. And then she probably had to face her family after that. I couldn’t even imagine how disappointed her father was in her. It wasn’t so crazy to think that I was the one who drove her to drugs.
And then I searched for Lauren Fox, and the first article I found was about the pussy shot that I’d leaked. The article was literally about how her career went downhill after that day.
Who did I think I was? Why did I think I had the right to ruin the careers of these girls?
I pulled my personal computer out from my messenger bag. I opened up the folder where that clip of Vanessa Klein was hiding, and then I deleted it. I didn’t want to be responsible for ruining another life. It wasn’t Vanessa’s fault that I only made around fifty grand a year. It wasn’t her fault that my boss wasn’t paying me more. Hell, it wasn’t even my boss’ fault—that’s just what newbie colourists get paid.
I sent Vanessa a message, straight to her phone. “I deleted the clip. I deleted it off the hard drive too.” And even though I’d just lost out on the biggest payday of my entire life, I felt good about myself. I felt like for the first time in a very long time, I wasn’t a loser. I wasn’t some slimy little prick, making money by ruining peoples’ lives.
I finished the work I needed to finish with the newest hard drive and I passed it over to Alex. “It’s all yours now,” I said.
“That was quick,” he said.
“I’m trying out a new workflow. I think I’m going to be a lot quicker from now on.” And I was a lot quicker. I just did my job and I never looked into the hard drives that ended up on my desk—no further than I had to. And my bosses took notice. It wasn’t even three weeks later when I found myself with a big raise, and a promotion.
I was an official colourist with the company. I got to grade a feature all by myself for the first time ever. It was a small movie, but it was a big step in the right direction. And I started thinking of ways I could make even more money, building a colouring rig at my home so that I could take on private clients with small indie films and passion projects. Things were going well for me. I was making money—almost six-figures and climbing—with no guilt attached.
And then, one month after I deleted that clip, Vanessa Klein came into the office. She locked her gaze with mine as I was sipping my coffee and then a smirk came onto her face. “So it’s been a month,” she said.
Alex and Sammy were both in the room, staring at the super celebrity with glowing eyes. And I realized she was there to ruin my career with that audio clip—revenge for blackmailing her a month before. She said that she would do it unless I paid up, and I guess she meant it.
“Can I talk with you in private?” I asked. And I wasn’t sure that she would go into a private room with me to discuss the matter. I had a feeling she was there for the humiliation, and the humiliation would work best with all of my co-workers standing around me.
“Sure,” she said to my surprise. So we slipped into my colouring suite.
“Your name is on the door. That’s new,” she said, running her finger along my nameplate.
“As of last week,” I said.
“If only they knew what you are really up to in here,” she said with that trademark Hollywood grin.
“I’m done with that. I really did delete your clip, and lots of other clips—believe me. I probably had a million dollars worth of pictures and clips on my computer. They’re all gone.”
“Did I give you a good scare?” she asked.
“I didn’t delete it all because I was scared.”
“Well that’s nice to hear. I didn’t come here because I want your money, so you can take a breath and relax.” And it was relieving to hear, even though I didn’t fully believe her.
“So why are you here?” I asked.
“I just wanted to let you know that I got that role in that Tarantino movie. We start filming in two weeks, in Spain.”
�
��That sounds like fun,” I said. I watched her closely, still not convinced she wasn’t recording our conversation.
“It will be fun,” she said.
The room became silent. “Is that all you came to tell me?” I asked. “You can check my whole computer for that clip—I really did delete it.”
She shook her head and laughed. “I believe you,” she said. “I came because, well…” Her cheeks suddenly turned a shade of dark red. “I was about to have some fun at my house last night. I was all alone and I got this new dildo. I tried it out, and it just didn’t feel quite right. It was cold—and there’s nothing worse than something cold up there, if you know what I mean. It’s like having sex with a corpse. And then I went to try again this morning and I just couldn’t get into the mood. And then I remembered that you had a big, hot cock, and I thought: instead of masturbating alone like a loser, maybe I could swing by and you could clean me out with that big warm cock of yours.” She bit down on her bottom lip as her cheeks turned even redder.
Then she stood up straight, turned around, bent over, and pulled up her skirt, revealing the thin strip of black covering her puckering asshole. And I was hypnotized, drawn in like a moth towards light. How could I say no to such a beautiful woman? And that’s all I could see her as, even though I knew her truth. It didn’t matter. That cock was just another part of her body—no different to me than had there been a dripping pussy between her legs.
I reached down and fished that cock out from her panties, letting it hang down while I unzipped my fly. I gently felt her soft butt cheeks and then I squeezed them, making them red, digging in my nails. She didn’t flinch. She just wagged her bum like a horny little dog. My cock was getting hard fast—it wouldn’t be long before I was hard enough to stick it into her.
But I still had some time, so I sunk to my knees and spread her cheeks wide. I bent forward and pressed my lips to her hole and I started licking. Her asshole was perfect. I was able to press my tongue in deep and feel around her anal walls. She squirmed slightly and then let a little giggle slip. “How does it taste?” she asked with a shy voice.
Big Hard Girls Page 14
