Author Topic: Hollywood Noire: Chapter 3 (Updated: September 3rd.)  (Read 852 times)

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August 27, 2017, 03:50:06 PM

Offline Emily

Emily Honeywell's
Hollywood Noire

Written By: Emily Honeywell & Minnie McFarlane

Editor: Emily Honeywell
Editor: Minnie McFarlane

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS:

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real events or person(s) is purely coincidental. While I enjoy the themes contained herein purely as fantasy, I should stress that I do not condone the violent, reprehensible, and illegal acts found herein.

SERIES SYNOPSIS:

Hollywood Noire is an erotic tale about the seedy underbelly of Hollywood and the entertainment industry. It explores the inner-workings of the fictional Golden Reel Modeling Agency in Los Angeles through the eyes of one of it's newest young starlets, a fifteen-year old newcomer named Annabelle Winter. Coming from a poor, working-class family that struggles with keeping a roof over their heads, she sees it as a glamorous way out and the first step to becoming the actress she's dreamed about since she was little. Instead, she finds the grass isn't always greener at the top of the hill, and that the sunny exterior of Hollywood is just a front for something much darker lurking beneath it's pristine surface. 

GENRE(S):

Older Male/Female, Teen Female/Teen Male, Non-Consent, Bondage, Bestiality, Blackmail.

CHAPTER INDEX:

[Pg. 1, Pst. 02] [08-27-2017] Chapter 01: The Interview
[Pg. 1, Pst. 05] [08-30-2017] Chapter 02: Private Shoot
[Pg. 1, Pst. 09] [09-03-2017] Chapter 03: An Ominous Sign

COMING SOON...

Chapter 04: Of Things To Come
Chapter 05: Contractual Obligations
Chapter 06: The Choices We Make


August 27, 2017, 03:54:47 PM
Reply #1

Offline Emily

CHAPTER 1: THE INTERVIEW
Written: 08-27-2017
Revised: 09-02-2017

   Annabelle Winter sat nervously in the exquisite office of one of Los Angeles’ oldest, and most infamous, modeling agencies. She had been waiting for almost an hour, and her tapping feet had begun to mark the white marble floor of the lavish office. The Golden Reel Agency, with it’s infamous reputation for scandals and low budget pictures, was hardly the first agency on the fifteen-year old girl’s list. In fact, it was the only major agency that hadn’t yet turned her down.

   She had heard every kind of criticism imaginable. Some said she was too tall, others too short. She looked too old, she looked too young. Being rejected was one thing; hearing in full detail, every tiny criticism of her appearance was entirely another. Like I didn’t already struggle enough with that, she found herself thinking each time some out-of-shape, woefully unattractive, middle-aged man told her that she wasn’t beautiful enough, or tall enough, or skinny enough for their agency.

   All of it had been enough to tank her confidence, which is precisely the reason she sat so nervously now. This was the last of the major players. If she was rejected by them, there was virtually no chance that she’d be able to model professionally, let alone become an actress, as she had long aspired. Being so lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed the bespectacled woman that had suddenly appeared before her.

“Excuse me, dear.” The woman peaked at the clipboard in her hand. “Annabelle, was it?”

   Annabelle looked up and nodded, her left foot still tapping away. A fact that didn’t escape the woman’s stony gaze.

   “Nervous, huh?” She asked politely.

   “Yeah.”

   “Don’t be.” She smiled at Annabelle. “You’re exactly the kind of girl that we hire. Young, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, and that face of yours, a perfect picture of youthful innocence.”

   “Umm, thanks… I guess?” Annabelle replied awkwardly.

   “You’re welcome, dear. Now,” she said, pointing at the door behind her desk, “You can go on in. Mr. De Santa is expecting you.”

   Annabelle forced her foot to stop kicking, and took a deep breath, before exhaling slowly. “Any advice?” She asked, with the look of a desperate child.

   The secretary bent down to face Annabelle. She placed a hand on her knee and said, “Just be yourself. Don’t be what you think he wants you to be. He’ll see through it. If he asks you a lot of questions, don’t be nervous; it’s a good thing, it means he’s seriously interested.”

   She gave Annabelle a soft smile before standing back up and gesturing the young teen towards the door. “Go and get it, girl.” She whispered cheerfully.

   Annabelle smiled back and stood up. She brushed a few wispy strands of blonde hair from her face and walked towards the door. She stopped just before entering and took a deep breath again. You can do this, Annie. You were born to do this. Okay, let’s go. Annabelle stepped inside and she heard the door close behind her with an audible locking noise. She put on a smile and inched closer to the desk where Mr. De Santa was sitting with a cigar between his lips and a glass of scotch in his left hand.

   Mr. De Santa was a handsome man. Annabelle noticed that the moment she saw him. Even with the age difference between them, she had no reservations admitting it. He was tall and slender, with broad shoulders and a figure that screamed ‘this is an important man.’ He had this unexplainable air of quiet confidence about him; a scent that lingered in the air long after he had left a room.

   Perhaps it was his stout eyes, steely and cold, with a stare that could pierce your very soul. Or maybe it was his hair, grey and thick; a sign of his age and experience. Whatever it is that had caused such an attraction, Annabelle could not say, but she did not find him repulsive like the rest of the agency heads. There was something about that made Annie feel as though she could trust him, that he could be someone she would respect and admire.   

   Annabelle stopped directly in front of the desk where he was sat, and curtsied. “Umm, hi, Sir. I’m Ann-” She began, before being abruptly interrupted by the imposing man before her.

   “Annabelle Winter, yes? Come, take a seat, sweetheart.” He motioned her to the seat opposite him, “We have much to discuss.” Annabelle smiled politely before taking a seat in the elegant chair across from him.

   “So,” he spoke, “Let’s see what we have here, shall we?” He asked rhetorically as he set his drink aside, the sound of ice clanging against glass echoed through the room as he continued to puff at his cigar, before flipping open the teenage girl’s portfolio that sat neatly on his desk that could only be described with the words ‘organized chaos.’ 

   He began to recite the information to the letter from the first page. “Annabelle Winter, or Annie for short. Let’s see, you’re four-feet, eleven inches. Ninety-seven pounds. Born, July 13th, 2002.” He looked her up and down, then asked, “That makes you what, fifteen?”

   Annabelle nodded. She began to tap her left foot nervously again.

   Mr. De Santa noticed immediately, staring at the teen girl’s long, slender legs. Milky white and smooth, he considered for a moment how they would feel wrapped around him. He shook his head of such a thought and then politely asked, “Nervous, are we, dear?”

   Annabelle chuckled nervously. “Yeah, sorry, Sir. It’s just, I’ve been-“

   “Rejected by every other major agency in town, correct?” He interjected, speaking in a polite, yet firm tone.

   “How did you know that?” Annabelle asked curiously.

   “No need to worry about that my dear,” He assured her with a smile. “It is simply my job to know everything about the models who walk through my door. This agency would be irrelevant if I didn’t.”

   His assurance seemed to calm the aspiring starlet down a bit, as she again halted her incessant stomping. He smiled at the young girl, noticing her relaxing demeanor, and she smiled back at him.

   Mr. De Santa quickly flipped to the second page of her portfolio and began to read through a list of references and the girl’s previous experience in acting and modeling. Unfortunately for Annabelle, there hadn’t been much to flip through, having only worked a few small modeling jobs for local establishments, and her only acting credit being an extra in a commercial for a Dodge dealership in her hometown.

   “I see you don’t have much experience. Even for your age, I expected a bit more.” He spoke critically in a tone Annabelle had heard before; a tone that meant rejection was just a few moments away.

   He flipped through the next few pages, catching a fleeting glimpse of Annabelle’s modeling samples. They were tame, mostly stock poses that you’d find in any portfolio. But there was one page that caught his eye, the stills from her commercial. “Now, now, what do we have here.” He mused, leaning towards the open pages and tapping his finger on the desk.

   Annabelle looked up and peeked at the page he had stopped on. It was her modeling work she did for the dealership back home! The shoot had been for the annual summer clearance sale and they had required the girls to wear bikinis and wash the cars. She looked up at Mr. De Santa and saw a look of interest washed across his wrinkled face. Her face flushed with embarrassment, realizing that he was showing attraction and lust.

   The eagle-eyed man who was to decide her future this afternoon noticed this, and smiled at her. “No need to be embarrassed, dear. I see a hundred stills of girls your age and younger like this every day.” He pressed his oily finger to Annabelle’s scantily clad image on the page. “You certainly have potential. But whether or not you’ll reach it is entirely another story.” He lectured.

   “Annabelle, I know this may sound like an odd request, but would you be interested in doing a small shoot right now? I want to see how you do in a live environment, rather than just seeing you in stills.” Mr. De Santa inquired, extinguishing his cigar in the ash tray and taking a sip of his scotch as he waited for the young teen to answer.

   “Umm, okay, yeah.” She agreed, somewhat reluctantly. Annabelle wanted this job more than anything in the world, but something about Mr. De Santa had begun to make her feel uneasy. The teenager reasoned it was probably nothing, chalking it up to her nervousness and the fact that her future was hanging on this one, single interview.

   “Excellent.” He replied, “We’ll proceed to the room next door.” He pointed towards a paneled door that was almost indistinguishable from the wall. Had he not pointed it out to her, she probably wouldn’t even have noticed it.

   “It’s a small modeling set of sorts. There’s a private change room, an extensive wardrobe, and of course, state-of-the-art camera equipment. Only the finest for our models, I assure you.” He smiled and began to walk towards the hidden door, with Annabelle following closely behind him.

   She watched as he slid the panel door open, and stepped to the side, beckoning her inside. Annabelle smiled politely as she passed him, and stopped to check out the room as Mr. De Santa entered and closed the door behind him, again with the same audible locking noise she heard when she first entered his office.

   Annabelle sighed in relief when she saw the room. It was exactly as he said, a simple modeling studio. There was a camera set on a tri-pod in the center, with camera umbrellas and lighting directed towards an opulent couch, the kind you’d expect to see in some nineteenth century manor. The walls were white, with no windows, and the floor, the same beautiful white marble as the waiting room. Mr. De Santa wasn’t kidding about ‘sparing no expense.’ The room must have cost a fortune to design!

   “So, my little model-to-be… is it everything you had hoped it would be?” He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

   Annabelle nodded, then replied, “Yeah, it’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.” She was still marveling at the lavish room, stuck in a state of perpetual awe.

   “Glad to hear it, honey. Now, why don’t you go in the changing room and pick something to wear and we can get started?” He suggested.

   “Okay. Is it that room over there?” Annie pointed towards the only other door in the room. She felt stupid asking, but she wanted to be sure and get everything just right.

   “That’s the one. Go on, I’ll get the equipment ready.” He whispered, giving the teenager a playful, encouraging smack on her bottom.

   She felt uneasy at his actions, but decided it wasn’t worth losing her last, best opportunity at becoming an actress over. As she was about to enter the wardrobe, Mr. De Santa suddenly blurted out, “Annabelle!”

   She turned around quickly, thinking she had done something wrong or to otherwise displease him. She felt relief as he continued, “Remember, do good today and you’ll get your shot.” Then that ease turned to anxiety as he continued, “But do poorly and, well, there’s always college if you’re a smart one. If not, well, this town can always use more waitresses.”

   Annabelle swallowed and nodded, then turned back around and entered the wardrobe, closing and locking the door behind her. As the door closed, the lights went on and her jaw dropped at the sheer size of the wardrobe. It was like a walk-in department store! There must have been thousands of outfits hanging neatly from the walls lining the long hallway.

   As she walked slowly down the hall, she let her hands run through the clothes as she passed them. The feeling of so many types of fabrics was exciting to touch, and she stopped at the end of the hall, and began to finger through all of the dresses that hanged there.
 
   So many choices were presented before her, but only one piece caught her eye. As she pulled it from the hanger, she knew it was the one. The perfect dress that would win her a job at the Golden Reel. It was a beautiful, elegant red evening dress. Backless, with a deep plunge that would show off her cleavage exceptionally well. It looked short too, as though it would leave her upper thighs exposed.

   Annabelle turned to the mirror at the back wall, and held the dress against her body. She looked herself up and down and smiled. This is the one. She slowly put the dress back on the hanger, taking great care as to not wrinkle it. The teenager then kicked off her sneakers, and bent down to pull her socks off her feet. She tossed them both aside.

   Next, she untucked her white tank top from her skirt and pulled it up and over her head. She tossed it aside to the pile, and then proceeded to reach behind her. Annie unclasped the hooks of her bra, gently removed the cups from her chest and pulled her arms through, discarding the garment aside with the rest of her clothes. Lastly came her skirt, a tiny black cotton skirt, the kind that swayed so easily in the lightest of breezes. She pulled it down her legs and stepped out of it.

   As Annabelle reached for the dress hanging next to her, she couldn’t help but peak at herself in the mirror. She stared critically at her body, analyzing every perceived blemish and flaw; nothing was good enough in her eyes. Not her narrow hips. Not her slim, taut stomach. Not even her breasts, barely filling a 32B-cup and her small, pinkish nipples looked like those of a little girl rather than a teenager. You can do this, Annie. He wouldn’t have asked for this if he didn’t intend to possibly give you a job. He even said if this went well that he would. Annabelle took a few deep breaths to calm herself down a little. Once she had, she took the dress from the hanger and slipped it on.

   The ever-critical girl twirled in front of the mirror, sizing herself up. She saw her bare flesh exposed from the back of the dress, and it felt incredibly short. She peered down at her legs to see the hem of the dress inches above her knees, leaving very little to the imagination. Normally, she would have never considered such a dress, but she knew what he wanted to see, and she had little choice but to give it to him.

   She turned away from the mirror with a small air of newly-found confidence and walked up the hall, to the make-up station. She applied ruby red lipstick to her lips, the bare essentials like foundation and eye liner, and put her hair in a simple bun. For the first time in her life, Annabelle looked in the mirror and loved what she saw. She couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked. Sexy, young and yet, elegant, too. She smiled to herself and walked towards the door to the other room with a strut of confidence. This job is mine. I deserve this. She told herself as she stepped back into the room.

   Mr. De Santa stood in front of her, turned to the camera and without even looking at her, motioned her towards the casting couch. She felt a little insulted at first. No compliments, no comments, hell, not even so much as a proper glance was directed towards her. Annabelle shrugged it off and inched closer to the couch, before sitting down, her legs crossed and her demeanor slightly nervous.

   “You clean up well, dear.” He smiled, his head poking out from the left of the camera. “Really, really well. I knew you had potential, kid. So, let it out and let it shine, give me a smile.” He ordered.

   Annabelle nodded and smiled at the camera. She looked so cute, so young and innocent, like a child of half her age marveling at the new phone they got for Christmas. He snapped a few shots to capture such wonder on film.

   “Put one hand behind your head, and the other on your thigh. Give me a slight smile, and bite your lip.” He ordered again, and she followed suit.

   “Good, girl.” He praised, snapping several more shots of the youthful beauty before him. “Now, spread your legs a little.”

   That’s a strange request, she thought. Oh, well. Focus, Annie. Just do as he says and you’ll be a star, just like he promised. Annie uncrossed her legs and parted them ever-so-slightly. Mr. De Santa smiled as he could see the slightest trace of her black, lace panties peeking out from between them.

   He continued to happily snap away with the camera before directing her yet again. “Now, arch your back, chest outwards, and put both hands behind your head.”

   She complied yet again, and was rewarded with the sound of camera snaps as Mr. De Santa took several more shots of her. Alright, Annie. So far so good, he looks happy. He’s smiling at least, that’s good, right? She thought to herself as the camera continued to flash. You’ll be a real model soon. With an official agency backing you. Annabelle Winter of the Golden Reel Modeling Agency. The girl was star-struck at the mere notion of her being a real, officially-represented actress and model.

   Mr. De Santa suddenly stopped shooting, and then began to walk towards the couch. She held her pose, unsure of what the proper procedure was. He sat next to her, and placed his rough, wrinkly hand on the small of her bare, arched back. He gently pushed inwards, causing the young teen to arch her back further.

   “I want to you know that you’re very beautiful, Annabelle.” He whispered as he began to gently rub her back.

   “I l-l-like Annie, Sir.” She corrected, unsure of what else to say.

   “Well, Annie. I know how much to want a chance at this agency, and I know that this is the last shot you have in LA. So, I’m going to make you an offer. A generous one, at that.” He spoke bluntly, that false smile of his now turned to a serious face.

   “What’s that, Sir?” Annie asked curiously.

   “Well, Annie,” He began to explain, letting his hand slide down her back and slip just under the fabric above her bottom. “Have you ever been naked in front of the camera before?”
   Annie’s heart sunk as the words slithered out of his mouth like a snake through the grass. She simply shook her head; a great feeling of unease washing over her, knowing exactly where this was going.

   “That’s okay, dear. No experience required for this job.” He joked, causing only further unease for the teenage girl beside him. “My offer is this: you’re going to take the dress off, and the panties too; then you’re going to model for me. Do that and I’ll offer you a contract. Twelve shoots, over three months. Total contract valued at just over thirty-six thousand dollars.”

   Annie was speechless. The teenager could barely comprehend the reality of the situation. On one hand, the very notion of being naked in front of this man repulsed her deeply. But… three months of guaranteed modeling work, with the exposure that came with a big agency behind her, and a sum of money she couldn’t even imagine. It was more than her mother made in a year working at the dinner.   

   Mr. De Santa noticed her silence and began to gently rub her back under the dress. His fingers traced the lacy lines of her black panties. “I know it’s a lot to put on you, dear. But in this business, you’ll be expected to do a lot of things you never thought you would to get ahead. If you won’t even model naked, then you may as well give up on being a model.”

   He saw the contemplative look in her cerulean eyes and continued to play her as though she was a violin. “I can give you a career, a chance at the top, but you have to be willing to make sacrifices. You do this for me, and I’ll give you the shot at the life you’ve always dreamed of.” He whispered in her ear.

   Annabelle gasped as his fingers began to dance just underneath the hem of her panties. She felt them tickling her, teasing her into giving him an answer; the one he wanted her to give. She turned to face him and gave him a soft, sly smile. She nodded and said, “Okay.”

August 27, 2017, 04:47:09 PM
Reply #2

Offline gscmar64

What a great beginning Emily! Looking forwards to her degradation at the agency's hands !

August 29, 2017, 05:27:32 AM
Reply #3

Offline Emily

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What a great beginning Emily! Looking forwards to her degradation at the agency's hands!

Thanks! :)

I may be pretty slow with this story because even though I'm the primary author, Minnie is contributing (Probably an 80/20 work load) and she is far more busy than I am. Finding time to write together can be difficult. I want to return to Family Matters too, even though I started writing it without any general idea of where the story is going and it's kind of a mess. I'm hoping to do a lot more planning for this one, and maybe get FM on track at some point.

I feel like Family Matters is more pure erotica; mostly sex with a sprinkling of story. Hollywood Noire, I'll be focusing a lot more on the plot, character development, and building up intense sex scenes rather than the old 'quantity over quality.'

August 30, 2017, 11:27:44 AM
Reply #4

Offline Emily

CHAPTER 2: PRIVATE SHOOT
Written: 08-30-2017
Revised: 09-02-2017

   Annabelle Winter couldn’t believe what she had just agreed to. She sat staring blankly at the camera, Mr. De Santa’s moist lips now kissing and nibbling at her neck. His fingers were still under her panties; crawling about like an unwanted insect. Annie was screaming at herself internally. Why the hell would you agree to that?! It’s not worth it. There are still other, smaller agencies I could try. But… he offered me a contract. A contract I could never hope to find elsewhere from anyone. God, what do I do?

   The frightened girl closed her eyes as she felt his teeth nibbling on her earlobes. Annabelle wanted to do something; anything, to reject this man and his sick advances. But she knew better, and she knew who he was and what he could do. This man could destroy any chance she had at a career in this town if he willed it. He was powerful, iconic, and most importantly, he had the ear of everyone in the entire industry. It would be just another day at the office for him to sully her name before she even had the chance to make one for herself.

   As the young model tried desperately to shut out what was happening to her, but then Mr. De Santa’s finger started to probe at her incredibly tight anus and all hope of that was lost. He then bit her earlobes again, but this time, much harder. Not enough to scar her; but enough to make her understand the status quo.

   “So, baby? Are you ready to strip for me?” He whispered, still nibbling at her earlobe.

   Annabelle felt her eyes begin to well with tears and simply nodded, resigning herself to his torment – deciding the contract and her dream was worth this one indiscretion.

   “Good, girl. I’m glad to hear it.” He grunted as he pulled his hand from her dress and struggled to stand up. Mr. De Santa towered high above the whimpering teenager below him, like she was a dwarf and he, the unfriendly giant. He grabbed her by the chin, applying a soft bit of pressure, and forced her to look up at him.

   “Open your eyes, darling.” He ordered.

   Annabelle slowly complied and opened her eyes, revealing a deep cerulean sea and a small wave in the form of single tear that had just then begun to stream down her cheek.

   “You have really pretty eyes, you know?” He complimented, begetting no response from Annie.

   “Listen,” he said in an almost fatherly tone, “I understand that this is asking a lot, but I’m putting my reputation on the line by offering you a contract. You’ve been rejected by nearly every agency in town, but I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. You can’t expect to receive that and not give a little something in return you know?”

   “I know, it’s just…” Annabelle trailed off.

   “Just what, baby?” He replied calmly.

   “I’ve never done anything like this… being naked in front of, well, a boy before.” She explained, with a note of fear in her voice.

   “I understand, sweetie. I can’t even count the number of girls your age that have come through that door and said the same thing. And you know what? In the end, all of em’ did it. Do you know why, princess?”

   Annabelle simply shook her head.

   “Because every single one of them came to the same realization.” He explained bluntly.

   “And what’s that?” Annabelle asked curiously, wiping away the welling tears from her eyes with her wrist.

   “That a chance like this only comes to you once in a lifetime if you’re lucky, and that showing a little skin for the camera was worth it. I promise you, what we shoot here will never leave this room.”

   If anybody else had said those words to her, she wouldn’t have believed it. But Mr. De Santa was different, there was something strange about him. She had known him for less than an hour and she trusted him implicitly as though he was her father or some old friend, even despite his actions.

   Annabelle sniffled. “Promise?”

   “I promise.” He replied, matter-of-factly and with the hint of a sincere smile on his face. “Nothing will leave this room. We won’t ever speak of it again. We’ll finish up here, get you a contract to take home and let your parents look over at, and then we can arrange a formal signing.”

   “It’s just my Mom.” She corrected him, immediately feeling stupid as the words escaped her mouth.

   “Oh, well, it makes no difference. As long as a parent or guardian is witness to the signing, it’s legally binding.” He explained.

   He noticed Annabelle’s silence. “So,” he casually inquired, “Are you ready to begin, darling?”

   Annabelle took three deep breaths and exhaled each time. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. She repeated to herself over and over again until she started to believe it herself.

   “Okay, I’m ready.” She nervously gave her consent.

   “Excellent! I’ll get the camera ready. You stand up and get undressed and I’ll guide you through the rest.”

   Annabelle stood up, upon wobbly knees no less, and as she started to walk towards the wardrobe, Mr. De Santa said, “Where do you think you’re going?”

   “To the change room… I was going to get undressed…” She trailed off.

   He couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, no, no, girl. Undress in here.”

   “In front of you?” She replied, slightly shocked at such a suggestion.

   “What? You’re going to be naked regardless, so what’s the difference? I want to watch you strip. I want to capture it through the camera lens. You wouldn’t know it, but a young girl undressing in front of a man for the first time is a beautiful and exquisite thing.”

   What a creep… Are do all of these men act like him? Even though the idea of undressing in front of him repulsed her, Annabelle reasoned that she didn’t really have a choice in the matter and returned to standing directly in front of the camera. Mr. De Santa was in full control of the situation, and he wanted her to know it.

   “Excellent. Now, just remain there and begin stripping, slowly, when I give the signal.” He explained, flashing her a thumbs-up. “That’s the signal. When you see it, just strip as you normally would; as though I wasn’t even here.

   That’s not possible. How could I possibly ignore the creep and the camera in front of me as I strip? Not to mention posing and following directional ques from him… God, please let this end quickly. I don’t know long I can do this. Annabelle’s mind was a busy train terminal as Mr. De Santa simply continued to finish setting up for the shoot, not giving so much as a second thought to the mental state of his young model, before finally flashing the signal to his beautiful young prize.

   Annabelle Winter was about to do the unimaginable. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Again,” she whispered to herself. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. This time, however, she didn’t believe it for even a moment.

   “Alright, are you ready, sweetie?” Mr. De Santa asked, seemingly with a hint of fake concern. He was a master manipulator; molding and pushing his young models as he saw fit, while still maintaining a sweet and caring demeanor. Annabelle wasn’t the first girl to fall for his wily charms. His private collection contained hundreds of models, all young girls just like Annabelle, with ages as low as eleven and some as old as seventeen.

   Annie looked Mr. De Santa in the eyes, and although she was entirely unsure of herself, she nodded back reluctantly.

   “Excellent. Let us begin, shall we? First, pull the hem of the dress up and between your legs. Let me see some those wonderful legs.” He suggested.

   Annabelle complied, the promise of an agency contract pushing her closer to the point of no return. With quivering hands, she slowly reached down to grab the shimmering, crimson fabric and held a bunch of it firmly in her hand. She pulled it up between her legs, exposing her bare flesh. Mr. De Santa simply smiled and turned back to the camera and began snapping away shots of the young teen’s creamy white thighs, so perfectly exposed and smooth.

   “Good, good…” Mr. De Santa praised under his breath. “Now, remove the straps and sit down. Let me see your breasts.”

   Annabelle hesitated for a moment.

   “There’s no need to be shy. Do you think you’re the first girl to bare her breasts to me? I’ve seen it all. Young and old, big and small. Remember, I could always find a more willing model to offer that contract to…”

   “No, please!” Annabelle pleaded in a loud, sudden outburst. “Sorry, I’m just nervous. Give me a second chance?”

   Mr. De Santa watched her through the camera eye. She was a beautiful specimen, one of the sexiest he’d ever tricked into his room. But there was something special and altogether different about her face. She had an incredible figure certainly, but her face was something truly special. Pleading and innocent, youthful yet, full of an innate desire to serve in order to fulfill her dream. She was malleable clay in his hands. They both knew it, deep down, and he intended to see just how far he could push her.

   “Fine, you’ve got one more chance. But screw it up again, and I’m warning you, that’s it. No contract, no shoots, and I’ll make sure you never work in this town again. Got it?” He replied coldly.

   Annabelle nodded.

   “Good. Now, resume undressing.” He ordered.

   “Okay…” She whispered.

   Annabelle reached with both hands, on either side of her dress, and pulled the thin straps down her skinny arms. As she pulled them down and off, the front of the dress came slipping off as well, revealing her developing breasts to Mr. De Santa’s lustful eyes. She instinctively began to cover them with her arms, until she heard a voice from behind the camera.

   “Annabelle.”

   “Sorry!” She quickly apologized, realizing her mistake and letting her arms fall to her sides. She sat down on the couch, as instructed, and felt shame as she heard the camera snapping away. She thought her face couldn’t be redder with embarrassment, but then Mr. De Santa began asking questions.

   “Very nice, honey. Very nice indeed. How big are they? 34B? 36B?”

   “32B.” She corrected.

   “Wonderful. I’ll bet you have all the boys at school cloying over you, huh? Pretty girl like you, what am I saying, of course you do.” He mused.

   “Not really.” She replied.

   “Really?!” He gasped, feigning shock. “Well, I’m sure that will change when you’re a famous model traveling all over the world and they’re stuck in Math Class learning calculus. They won’t be able to keep their eyes from you. You’ll be the girl of their wildest dreams soon enough.”

   Mr. De Santa didn’t believe a word of what he told her, but that didn’t matter. What mattered is that she believed it, and she did. Maybe not entirely, but he knew she wanted to. Girls like Annabelle were the easiest to manipulate. Desperate, rejected, and unpopular girls like her always were.

   “You really mean that?” She honestly asked.

   “Of course.” He peaked over and smiled at her. “Now, put one hand behind your head and the other on your hip.”

   She complied yet again and was rewarded with the audible sound of the camera snapping eagerly away; capturing stills of her naked flesh, unknown to the teenager if they would truly stay private. It was a risk, but one Annabelle had reluctantly decided was worth it.

   Then Mr. De Santa prepared her for his favourite pose. He had always loved this part of the shoot. The first time he, and in most cases, any man, had ever seen the girl completely naked. It was always amusing to see their faces as they willingly revealed their most private of places; their delicate cunts, to a man for the first time.

For him, he compared it to opening a present. You never knew exactly what it was you would find, only that it would make you happy nonetheless. His hope was to find her smooth shaven, but it was not something he expected. Girls her age typically only trimmed neatly. It wasn’t usually until they got a bit older, realizing what most men wanted and expected, that they fashioned their cunny after that of a little girl.

   “Annabelle,” He spoke in a quiet, yet commanding tone. “Stand up and remove the dress. Your panties, too.”

   Her face burned a beautiful shade of crimson as the words escaped his mouth; and yet, she did not hesitate. The teenager simply stood up and pulled the swaying fabric down her legs and kicked it aside. She did, however, hesitate when it came to removing the last piece of clothing that clung so desperately to her youthful figure.

   “The panties too, Annie. And slowly.” He spoke more harshly this time. She could see clearly his patience was wearing thin.

   “Yes, Sir…” She whispered under her breath.

   Annabelle hooked her thumb and forefinger around the waist of her black panties, and slowly pulled them down. As she worked the tightly clinging fabric from her bottom, she was swaying her hips subtly. She may not have realized what she was doing, but Mr. De Santa did, and she was rewarded by several snaps of the camera as the last protection of her innocent fell to the floor like rain from a grey sky.

   “There’s a good girl.” He sung her praises as she stood before him, humiliated and exposed, like a timid doe caught in headlights. “Now, sit back down. Place your hands on the back of your neck, arch your back, and spread your legs as wide as you can. We’ll be finished soon.”

   Annabelle nodded, her mind made hopeful for a fleeting moment at his promise that the end was nearing. A fact then forgotten just as quickly, realizing what he was asking her to do. She hated it; hated him. But she knew that hate would be only temporary, and that the consolation prize for it all was the rest of her life spent living her dream with fame and wealth.

   She then sat down on the couch again, and tried her best to follow his direction. The teenager placed both hands upon the smooth flesh of her neck, followed by arching her back and puffing her chest towards the camera. Then, she clumsily contorted her lower body, trying to stretch her legs wide and adjust her bottom while in such a position proved slightly difficult; yet not impossible.

   Mr. De Santa normally would not have been happy with her taking such a great deal of time. But this being the girl’s first time naked, and first shoot, he was instead amused by it all. The embarrassment telegraphed so obviously upon her face, her youthful flesh bouncing about as though she was jumping on a trampoline as she moved and swayed, and all the while the camera continued to snap away the entire time. This was quickly turning into one of his favourite shoots of recent memory.

   Once she was finally in position, Mr. De Santa amusingly commented, “Good job, Annie. Though, in the future do try to be quicker. But for someone so beautiful, I’ll forgive it your tardiness. Perfection cannot be rushed after all.”

   Anabelle nervously giggled. “Sorry about that. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

   Mr. De Santa’s smile disappeared and he replied, “See that it doesn’t, girl. You’re going to be a star, a bright and prominent one among a sky of mediocrity. See that you’re better than the rest of them.”

   “Yes, Sir.” Annabelle nodded.

   Why is he praising me so? Does he really mean it? Could I truly be a star? It’s what I’ve always wanted, since I was a little girl, and because of him, it’s within my reach. I have to keep going. Do as he asks of you, Annie. Your whole life is riding on this. Mom didn’t work hard to raise me to be a failure; she always said she wanted me to have the life that she didn’t. That my kids should be better off than I was. I can do this. I can do this.

   She sat now with a newly found sense of resolve. One that was ready for whatever this man could throw at it. To prove it to him, but mostly to herself, she boldly removed her left hand from her neck and used her dainty fingers to rub slowly across the crack of her cunt. She didn’t hear a word from Mr. De Santa, but took the exponentially increasing sound of camera clicks as an unspoken agreement between them.

   Just as she made the even bolder move of letting a finger slip inside of her, she heard a phone ringing. It was his cell phone, and Mr. De Santa apologized before answering, “Sorry, love. This is important, wait just a moment and don’t stop what you’re doing.”

   She nodded and continued to finger herself. Annabelle couldn’t help but wonder how it was she had gotten here. Alone, naked, in a room with an older man, and fingering herself willingly whilst being photographed simply for a job. She then came to a strange realization. I’m doing this for a job when I already have one… I’m basically a prostitute, but instead of sex for money, I’m trading my body for a job.

   Even as she thought about it, and how humiliating and degrading it was, for some reason she never stopped. Annabelle continued to finger herself as Mr. De Santa watched from across the room while on the phone with god knows who. He was smiling the entire time and she couldn’t help but wonder if he knew what she was struggling with. He said that I wasn’t the first girl to be here. I wonder if he knows how I feel. Surely, he must. Surely all of those other girls felt the same things as me, and yet, I can’t stop. Why can’t I stop? What’s wrong with me? No, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m doing this because I want to. Because I need this job. I won’t stop now. Not for anything.

   And she didn’t stop, not even as Mr. De Santa came walking towards her, with his ear pressed against his cell phone. He came to a full stop, directly in front of her, and looked into her eyes with his steely gaze. To her, it felt like he was peering into her soul; and as she heard a faint, panic voiced on the other end of the phone, she saw his lips begin to move. He was mouthing to her, “Don’t stop.”

   As he commanded, so she obeyed, her eyes not once unlocking from his as she continued to clumsily finger herself. Mr. De Santa simply smiled as he continued to stare deeply into the blue of Annabelle’s eyes. Deep like the sea, and as brilliant as a sapphire they were; not even a fifteen-year old girl, stark naked, and pleasuring herself at his command could transfix his gaze from those perfect jewels.

   He still thought that while Annabelle may have been an average girl from the neck down, but that she had incredible potential in that face of hers. Beautiful, high cheek bones. Long and delicate, wispy strands of honey-golden hair complimented so perfectly by her greatest asset; her eyes. She was the quintessential picture of youthful beauty and innocence. Yet, she was hardly the little girl that such looks were typically wasted on. She, instead, was an adolescence who’s beauty had peaked, and would only decline from there. Mr. De Santa considered himself among the luckiest men in the world, having been graced with such a creature in it’s prime.

   He was not, however, as lucky to have received the phone call he did at the time he did. Without another word, he ended the call and slipped the phone in his pocket. He audibly sighed; his gaze still locked to the beautiful teenager before him. She looked as though she was waiting for him to make some kind of move. Like a wounded animal she was, and he the mighty predator. Had it not been for the call, he might have considered fucking her right then, and right there.

   “Stand up, Annie.” He commanded.

   He laughed as she did, still fingering herself. She’s ever the submissive one, he thought.

   “You can stop that now,” He ordered, before continuing, “I do apologize for ending so abruptly, but there is an urgent matter that requires my attention.” 

   Annabelle slipped her finger from her freshly-used lips and asked, “Umm, is everything okay, Sir?”

   “No.” He replied truthfully. “But it is nothing you need concern yourself with my darling.”

   Mr. De Santa then pressed his closed fist gently against her cheek and began to brush her skin with his thumb. Annie’s lips parted slightly, and he smiled, still staring intently at her.

   “Such a shame we have to stop. I had so many ideas for such a beautiful young woman such as you, Annabelle. I’ll expect you back here again to finish up what you started. I’ll have the secretary call you and arrange a time that will work for you, darling.”

   Mr. De Santa couldn’t help but notice the concerned look upon her perfect face.

   “Is there something wrong with that, Annabelle?” He inquired.

   “No, Sir. It’s just that-“ She replied before be cutting off.

   “The contract?” He asked.

   “Yeah.” She smiled weakly.

   “Don’t worry about that my dear. You’ve more than earned it. Ask Ms. Mayfield for it on your way out. She’ll give you the details.”

   “Really?!” She screamed, a huge smile beaming across her face.

   “Yes, truly, my dear. It is yours, if you so desire it to be.” My, she’s even more beautiful when she’s smiling, Mr. De Santa thought.

   “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She shrieked, leaping towards him with reckless abandon, embracing him like a scared child would cling to her mother.

   Mr. De Santa could think of nothing to say. His thoughts instead, were filled with desires. This young girl was still very much naked, and he could feel her breasts pressing against his chest. He instinctively placed his hands on her bottom, and squeezed tightly. He wanted to fuck her on the spot, but he restrained himself. “You’re quite welcome, princess. Welcome to the Golden Reel.”

   “Now,” he continued, “As much as I would love to remain here with you, I do have to be going. Urgent business, I’m afraid.” He loosened his grip on her and muttered, “Someone is going to be harshly reprimanded for such an rude and thoughtless interruption.”

   As Annabelle’s initial excitement wore thin, she soon realized what she had done. She pulled away from him suddenly and apologized. “I’m sorry, Mr. De Santa. That was… weird.”

   “All is well, Annie. Truth be told, I enjoy the warm embrace of a soft girl. Especially one as radiant as you.” He kissed her forehead. “You are going to be the shining star of this agency, darling. Now, I must leave you. Get dressed and see Ms. Mayfield on the way out. Adieu, my shining star.” He placed his hand on his chest and bowed respectfully, before leaving the room.

   Annabelle remained standing. There she was, alone and naked, having been fondled and photographed by an older man; one old enough to be her grandfather. It sounded like a story that would leave a girl her age broken, fractured, and yet, it was the happiest day of her young life. She was now a model, more or less, with only the formal signing of a contract standing between her and her dream. She thought not of the man who had groped her, or of the man who would’ve taken her virginity if given the chance, nor the possible implications of the photographs he had taken. No, Annabelle thought only about his words:

   You are going to be the shining star of this agency. Though his words were merely an unfulfilled promise at the present moment, she had believed them. She had believed him. Annabelle smiled and collapsed on the couch, closing her eyes and dwelling on those two words of his: shining star.

August 30, 2017, 11:41:33 AM
Reply #5

Offline minniemcf

80/20 workload, huh? That's being very generous honestly. I only wrote like a few hundred words at best after your first edit. This is mostly all you, hun! :)

August 30, 2017, 02:41:55 PM
Reply #6

Offline gscmar64

Lovely to watch a seasoned pro handle a naive amatuer  with out her realizing what she in for! Kudos Emily! How soon before he sweet talks her into a porn shoot?

September 02, 2017, 08:44:43 AM
Reply #7

Offline Emily

Revising and reposting the heavily edited versions of the First and Second Chapters.

A Third Chapter is now finished! Yay! I just have to do some editing and rewrites before posting it. Then, I'm starting on Chapter Four, in which we will see Annabelle look over her official contract, as well as an unexpected, and unofficial one she receives via private email from Mr. De Santa.

September 03, 2017, 04:20:16 PM
Reply #8

Offline Emily

CHAPTER 3: AN OMINOUS SIGN
Written: 09-03-2017
Revised: 09-03-2017

   Annabelle couldn’t even begin to say just how long she had remained on that couch. She was still very much in shock at what she had done. She didn’t regret it, mind you, after all, Mr. De Santa had rewarded her with a generous contract for her efforts. Though she was happy, the young model couldn’t help but wonder just what might have happened had he not been called away when he was. I guess I’m going to find out soon enough, she thought; remembering that his signing of that contract hanged upon the stipulation of her finishing what she had started in that very room.

   Her heart was pounding. Her young mind was firing on all cylinders as she played every possible outcome in her head. Each image, powerful and erotic, flew by, one after another at the speed of light. She then found her hand wandering between her legs yet again. She let out an exasperated gasp as she felt her fingers graze her clit, delivering electric shocks along her inexperienced skin. Annie had lost control, both of her mind and body.

   With her eyes closed, she imagined that her fingers were that of Mr. De Santa. Though she had initially felt repulsed by his very touch, she now found herself longing for it – no, needing it. Annabelle let his name slip from between her lips, whispering it over and over as her body mechanically reacted to the movement of her dainty finger tips.

   “Oh, Mr. De Santa…” She moaned through rapid, shallow breaths. “Please, don’t stop. I need this so bad.” She moaned again, begging to nobody in particular except the fantasy she had become so lost in.

   The fifteen-year old began to shake and contort on the couch. Her knees were trembling, her thigh muscles contracting wildly, and each breath she drew was frantic, as though she was struggling for air. All sense of shame or humility was now gone from her; replaced only by a primal desire for pleasure. She knew a climax was approaching; it had been building for several minutes, like a child playing with building blocks, and now an older child was about to topple that tower with an overwhelming kick.

   “Oh, fuck… Yes!” She found herself squealing in ecstasy, her body writhing about like that of a fish out of water. In a way, she was not much different than that fish. A delicate creature found out of it’s element, much in the same way that Annie was now experiencing the most incredible orgasm of her life in a strange room on the twenty-fourth floor of a Los Angeles office building.

    As the time passed and she began to float gently back to earth, she found herself clinging tightly with both hands to the arm of the couch. Annie opened her eyes and look down to find her toes curled, and her thighs mashing together. She was amazed at just how much her body reacted on its own. Her glance then returned to the white of the tiled ceiling.
 
   Her beautiful eyes shone brilliantly as she thought about the future, her hands returning yet again to their favourite crevasse, high up and between her thighs. They were wet to the touch, a moist mixture of sweat and her own juices, yet it did little to halt her finger’s advances.

   The teenage girl wanted to stay here forever. On this couch, in this room, with the camera forever watching and the spotlight always shining upon her. It was no longer just a dream for the aspiring starlet, it was now very much a reality that still hadn’t quite set in just yet. Her wonderful bubble was then burst suddenly by a knocking at the door, followed by a voice.

   “Miss Winter? Are you still in there?” The muffled voice came from the other side of the door, followed by a shaking, as the person tried to open it. Thankfully for Annabelle, the door was locked and would only open from the inside, without the use of a passcode.

   Annabelle immediately jumped from the couch and realized she had overstayed her welcome. As she tippy-toed quietly across the room, she answered back, “Sorry! I’m just getting dressed! I’ll be out in a second, kay?”

   Annie had hoped that would be enough to get the woman off her back and it must’ve been, as the teenager didn’t hear another word from the other room again.

   “Whew.” Annie sighed, before slipping inside the wardrobe, not bothering to close the door behind her. She had no sense of modesty in this room. Mr. De Santa had masterfully made sure of that as he led the girl, like a moth through a flame to its own demise, from being an innocent child to a provocative young woman who was eager to expose herself to him.

   None of this crossed Annabelle’s mind even once, of course. Mr. De Santa would’ve failed spectacularly if it had. He was not a man who liked to force the girls physically unless he had to, there was no fun in that for him. He instead enjoyed molding them into what he wanted them to be, all the while, teaching them to think it’s what they wanted in the first place. It was all little more than a sick game for him, and one he had never grown tired of playing throughout the years.

   Annabelle was his latest ‘toy’ to be played with, and she had proved more malleable than most of them. It usually took more than a simple threat of pulling her future contract to get a girl naked. In some cases, threats of violence were used. Mr. De Santa cared little for their protests or struggles, instead desiring only one thing: to own them. To his credit, he did give them more than the average predator. Sure, he left them broken and vulnerable, but he did give them the career he promised in the end.

   And Annabelle had proved no different. He had offered her a contract; the job she had dreamt of since she was a small child. And like a true predator, he had already started to pick from her bones and take what he wanted. He was going to put Annie to work, in more ways than one.

   But while Mr. De Santa thought only of ways to exploit his new prize, that prize herself was happily slipping on her skirt and tank top in his private wardrobe. She was smiling and humming along the entire time to one of her favourite songs as she adjusted her bra and let her hair back down, shaking it about as she watched in the mirror. Annie couldn’t help but smile as she saw her own eyes, the deep and beautiful cerulean jewels they were, starring back at her with sparkling brilliance.

   Annabelle had dressed so quickly that she hadn’t even realized her panties were still tangled in a pile with her dress in the other room. It wouldn’t have normally been such a big deal, but she was wearing a short skirt made from cotton. The gentlest of breezes could send the fabric into the air as easily it did her golden, wispy hair. Annie hadn’t realized that fact until she opened the sliding door into Mr. De Santa’s office, feeling the air blow her skirt gently up as she came face to face with the bespectacled secretary from earlier.

   “You were in there for a long time, dear.” She asked, “Just what were you doing in there?” She adjusted her glasses and peered over Annie’s shoulder, seeing the red dress and black panties in a pile on the white floor, before cracking a sly smile.

   “Sorry. So, umm, do you have a contract for me? Mr. De Santa told me you would?” Annie avoided the question clumsily, her face redder than the dress behind her.

   Ms. Mayfield grinned. She had cleverly deduced what had happened and Annie could see that written upon her face, causing only further embarrassment for the young teen.

   The older woman saw this and decided to not press any further. She smiled calmly and said, “No need to explain, hun. It’s not important. Let’s just get you that contract and get you on your way.”

   Annabelle nodded, but was still feeling uneasy. As Ms. Mayfield left the room, she quickly followed behind and returned to the lobby. She couldn’t help but think that only just an hour ago, she was sat nervously in this room hoping for the very thing she was about to receive. To Annie, it seemed like a lifetime ago and in many ways, it was.

   As Ms. Mayfield came to a stop at her desk, so too did Annie. She watched in anticipation as Ms. Mayfield bent over and began scouring through the chaotic pile that covered it. As she did, the secretary, letting her curiosity get the better of her professional judgment, began to press the young teen again.

“So, dear. How was it? Did you enjoy your first private shoot?”

   Annabelle was stunned. How in the hell did she know about that?! She looked equal parts baffled and embarrassed as Ms. Mayfield turned to face her, with a manila envelope tightly clasped in hand. 

   “Don’t worry your pretty little head, dear. I’m not crazy TV psychic or anything like that, but I was a model like you, once.” She reassured the young teen, reaching out with the envelope in hand.

   Annie calmed down a little, but still felt a tad uneasy. She nervously reached out her hand and took the envelope. She felt pleased to finally feel it within her grasp, as though she was holding her own dream, physically manifested, within it.

   “You were?”

   “You sound surprised? Do I not look stunning enough to have been one?” She replied, sounding insulted and unamused.

   “No, of course not! It’s just, I, well…”

   Ms. Mayfield cracked a smile and giggled. “Relax, dear. It’s just a joke.”

   Annie smiled back, feeling a bit at ease. Then she laughed. “Sorry, I guess I’m just still excited about getting this.” She held the envelope with crossed arms tightly against her chest.

   “It’s a wonderful feeling, isn’t it? Hearing those words, I mean. Being accepted after so much rejection.”

   “Yeah, you have no idea.” Annie immediately realized her mistake. “Well, I guess you do actually, huh?” She corrected herself.

   “All too well, dear.” Ms. Mayfield reached for a pack of cigarettes on her desk. She opened the package and slipped one between her lips, then reached again for a lighter. She lit the cigarette and then puffed smoke from between her lips and into the air.

   “So, what’s it like? Being a model, I mean. Like, a real model?” Annabelle asked with a tone of curiosity that suggested she was still very much a child playing at a woman’s game.

   “Honestly?” She replied.

   “Yes, of course! I want to hear every detail! Leave nothing out!”

   Ms. Mayfield inhaled another cloud of smoke into her lungs before exhaling. She starred back at the young girl before her, looking so young and innocent. Annabelle looked excited too, and in many ways, reminded the aging woman of herself back then. “Truthfully, kid, it ain’t all what it’s cracked up to be. The glitz and glamour. The fame and the fortune. All of it’s bullshit.”

   Annabelle’s smile faded. “Oh…” Was all she said.

   The older woman saw this and felt bad. She continued, “Look… You can do a lot of good in this life. You’ll travel the world, meet new people, make more money than you ever thought possible, and maybe, just maybe, retire at an early age happily. There’s a lot of good, but a whole lot of bad, too.”

   “What do you mean?” Annie inquired, her youthful inexperience only hearing about such things for the first time, even though she herself had just experienced that ‘bad’ in the next room only minutes ago.

   Ms. Mayfield pointed to the office behind her. “Take the old man, for instance. I know what he told you in that room, and I know what he made you do for that piece of paper there.” She pointed at the envelope still held tightly in Annie’s arms. “I did the same things when I was your age, but somewhere along the line, I let my dreams blind me and I got lost.”

   Annie remained quiet, intently listening to the near middle-aged secretary share her most intimate secrets. It was clear, even to a fifteen-year old girl like her, that although she didn’t telegraph it, she was in deep pain, retelling such things.

   “Sweetheart… You’re young and pretty, and now you’re almost a model. There are going to be many people who will take advantage of you if given the opportunity.”

   “Like, Mr. De Santa?” She asked, thinking back to how she had stripped in front of him and allowed him to grope her not long ago.

   Ms. Mayfield leaned forward and pressed her cigarette into the ashtray. She spoke very seriously this time, “Exactly like him, Annie. Take it from me… that dream of yours was once mine too, and it ain’t always worth it. The things we do, who we do them with… we can’t get those back. I’ve made a lot of mistakes over the years, dear. Don’t you go and make them too.”

   Annie smiled softly as Ms. Mayfield smiled back, and leaned further across the desk and pinched her cheek innocently.

   “You’re far too sweet for this rotten town, Annabelle Winter.”

   Annie took a deep breath. “So, what should I do?”

   Ms. Mayfield looked unsure for a minute, unable to think of something to say, until it came to her suddenly as she stared out the window. The sky had turned grey and rain had begun to fall, streaking the window with delicate droplets of water. “Follow your mind and not your heart. You seem like a smart girl, Annie. But that heart of yours is far too kind, and kindness will be twisted and exploited by this town like a damned blender. Just think about the future and if the choices you have laid out in front of you are going to be the kind you’ll regret later.”

   Annabelle considered her words very carefully. It was the first time she had ever heard someone speak so ill of the career she wanted to pursue. As much as she wished it weren’t true, that this woman was simply lying to her, she couldn’t deny that she saw some of that rottenness during her time with Mr. De Santa. And yet, even after all he had done and despite Ms. Mayfield’s urgent warnings, she still felt nothing but respect and admiration for him.

   Ms. Mayfield looked up at the clock, noticing Annie’s silence. “Well, you clearly have a lot to think about and it’s getting late. I’m sure your parents are wondering where you are?”

   Annie nodded, looking too at the clock. “Yeah, my Mom is waiting for me downstairs. Thanks for the advice, Ms. Mayfield, but I’ll be okay.”

   She smiled back at Annie, watching the teenager stand and walk towards the door. Even despite what she had been told, the girl still looked bubbly as she gleefully held the contract tightly in her arms and opened the door, leaving Ms. Mayfield all alone in the dark and dreary room.

   “I hope so, dear.” She whispered to herself, cracking a slight smile before returning her hopeful gaze to the window, peering at the rotten city laid before her very eyes. The darkening sky appeared ominous, and the falling rain did too, and Ms. Mayfield hoped desperately that such a rotten place wouldn’t corrupt and swallow whole yet another sweet, innocent girl. “I truly hope so, Annie.” She whispered again.

September 04, 2017, 09:27:17 AM
Reply #9

Offline gscmar64

Do i detect a motherly advice type or maybe a closet lesbian?

September 04, 2017, 01:35:44 PM
Reply #10

Offline Emily

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Do i detect a motherly advice type or maybe a closet lesbian?

Nope, nothing sexual is going to happen between those two characters. Ms. Mayfield is simply a mother hen type who's trying to prevent the same bad experiences she had from befalling that of another young model who she sees a lot of herself in. That's all!

*Edit: Oh, and to those wondering when the 'good' parts are coming: Chapter 4, which I'm currently working on a rough draft of, is going to be pretty much just more story and build up. It's going to cover two primary scenes: Annie and her mother discussing the contract on the drive home, and Annie reading over the contract in her room at night, when she receives an email from De Santa containing the 'private' stipulations of a contract between she and him. Chapter 5 and 6 is going to cover the second private shoot, and will see De Santa manipulating and bribing her (do as he says, or he'll not sign and rescind the contract) into giving him the young girl's virginity, which is filmed on camera, unknown to Annie.