He stripped my clothes off and surprised me by placing them under my body like a blanket. What a charming thing to do. And he got what he wanted: a view of my naked body.
“So smooth,” he said, tracing his finger from my leg to my stomach and breasts where they were hiding behind my bra. “So white and beautiful, like a porcelain doll. You have such beautiful skin.”
“Thank you,” I said, the ocean breeze tickling my bare feet.
He climbed on top of me, bringing his pelvis closer and closer to my face. I could already see the long and hard shape of his cock through his pants. An electric charge ran through me; I wanted to tear those pants off him and suck the seed out of his balls.
Michael grabbed my breasts, squeezing them like pillows. He couldn’t resist seeing them so I unhooked my bra and tossed it aside. He bent down and filled his mouth with my tits. One nipple at a time. The feverish sucking tickled me. The sensation was so good as his tongue smacked fast against my nipple and smothered my areola in a thick cake of his spit.
“Oh god, that feels so good,” I moaned..
“Suck my cock, Jane. I want to feel your pretty mouth on my big cock,” he said. “Unzip me.”
I was happy to comply, pressing my hand against his jeans and feeling his horse cock ready to bulge out and spray me with cum. My fingers clasped his zipper and pulled it down. I licked my lips as he watched me do it. This was clearly his kink. He liked to watch.
As I unzipped his pants and unbuttoned them, I had to reach my hand into his jeans like his cock was the last cookie in the cookie jar. I wrenched it out, surprised by the girth and feel. It was like a damn German sausage. I could feel my lady parts clench up and at the same time salivate just at the thought of something this big pressing my red lips apart and sliding in deep inside me. My panties were growing wetter with each passing moment.
His cock was warm in my hand, a soothing comfort that contrasted nicely with the cold ocean winds. Luckily there was nobody around. I opened my mouth and went down to put that cock inside my mouth. Right where he wanted it.
“Oooh, fuck,” he moaned with pleasure as I filled my warm mouth with his dick. Already I felt his crystal clear pre-cum dripping out of the head. I lapped it up like a good girl, wanting to impress him.
I spat on his cock and stroked it nice and slow as his fingers played with my nipples. He then took control of his manhood and pushed it inside my mouth without warning.
“Hnng!” I shouted, gagging on his cock, unable to even speak but he loved it. It made him even harder. He grabbed the back of my head and maneuvered it onto his cock, pushing himself deep into my mouth and then pulling back out. Thick ropes of spit dripped onto my stomach.
I grabbed his dick and raised it up like a flag as I licked his balls, trying my best to swallow them together and jerk him off at the same time.
“That feels so good, Jane,” he said, grinning. “I can tell you’ve had a lot of practice, you little whore.”
“I’m your whore tonight. Do what you want with me,” I said, taking his thick meat back inside my tight wet mouth. My pussy pulsed and quivered, waiting for it to happen. For him to stuff me like a Thanksgiving turkey.
He pushed his cock deep into my mouth for one last gag. I was breathless as I felt it reach the back of my throat—holy shit—and he fucked my mouth again and again with no reprieve. My eyes watered and my muscles tensed up, and finally he pulled out with spittle swinging from my chin.
“Good girl, you ready to get fucked?” he asked me.
“Yeah,” I moaned like the sensual creature I was, although I was worried he might be too big for me. Jake wasn’t hung like him, none of my previous boyfriends had been.
Michael was the biggest.
He pulled my panties off with his teeth, watching me as he did it. They slid past my knees and off my toes. Then, he parted my legs like the red sea and dove in head first to suck my pussy dry like it was a juicy red summer watermelon.
Michael lapped up my pussy like a dog drinking water out of a bowl. He was ferocious, licking me with a hunger I had never seen before in a man. This is what I had been missing out on.
He played with my clit using his tongue. A warm oozing sensation radiated out from my pussy and filled my stomach and chest. God, it felt so good. He kept licking and licking. And somehow he knew just when to stop, just as my pelvis was swelling up and down, ready to come. He knew there was more to do.
Michael raised my legs up so they rested on his shoulders and his hands squeezed the sides of my hips, digging his fingers in.
I could feel him rubbing the pink head of his hard cock against my cunt, tracing it up and down. And then he slowly pushed himself inside. Inch by inch. It didn’t stop. Even when I thought there was no more meat left to enter my pink palace, alas there was more.
I exhaled, breathless like I had survived a turbulent plane ride just as I felt his balls press up against me. It meant he was done and now it was time to get down to business. Michael pulled out and shoved his fat cock back into me so that I could feel the power of his flesh. It rattled my core, my eyes wanted to roll into the back of my head as he pounded me. I had nothing to grab onto. Just sand falling between my fingers. He was fucking me so hard, I needed something, oh god!
Michael flipped me around and pulled me up on all fours like a dog so he could drill me from behind. And boy, did he want to fuck me like a dog. He got his wish. His hand wrapped around my dark hair and pulled my head back, wanting to train me, master me, put me under his control. And fuck, I wanted to be his slave.
His pelvis pounded against my ass. I couldn’t help but whimper loudly. Thankfully the ocean waves masked my sounds of pleasure.
Then I felt a wet finger press against the wall of my asshole, as if to knock first.
“Do it,” I said. “Push that finger in my ass.”
As I felt the long reach of his cock in my plushy wet pussy, his finger slid into my anus to pleasure me in both holes. I couldn’t take it; it was too much. I bit down my lower lip as he added a second finger to the first, spreading my asshole wider.
“Oh god!” I shouted. “What the fuck!” The pleasure was so much, I couldn’t contain myself on the shore of this beach. He pounded his pelvis against me, one hand fucking my ass and the other hand clawing into my fleshy hips.
I’d always known I wanted to try both holes at the same time but I’d never known if I could do it. I hadn’t known it was possible for a little girl like me, but now I knew. It felt so dirty and yet so good at the same time. How could something like this be?
“I’m gonna fuck your ass, Jane, I’m gonna fuck it hard,” he moaned as he pulled out of my dripping cunt. I felt the thick bulbous head of his cock push ever so slowly inside my ass. I felt my anus reluctantly widen. What a sensation. He slid inside me and as he did, he wrenched my head further back until he was deep in me, his balls knocking against my cunt.
“Jesus Christ!” I shouted with my ass stuffed with his cock. He was hot as the sun and hard as a rock. He softly drilled into me and when I begged him to go more slowly, he ignored me. He didn’t give me what I wanted. He gave me what I needed. A good deep ass fucking.
He slammed in me and with each thrust, my fingers clawed deeper into the sand.
“I’m gonna come,” he said, pulling out of my ass and turning me around like a sex slave. I tugged on his meat, salivating to taste his seed for the first time.
He pushed my head back and I opened my mouth, knowing he was ready to explode. I closed my eyes as his cum sprayed inside my mouth and even splashed across my face like white paint.
“Oh fuck,” he said, breathlessly.
His cum was sweet like pineapple. I savored the thick wad and pulled a strand of it from my face, licking it off my fingers. He watched me with pleasure as I did, giving his dick several few last strokes.
“That was amazing,” I said. It felt so good. The warmth of his seed, the cold of the beach wind. It was perfect.
He gr
abbed a tissue from his back pocket and tried his best to wipe it all down.
After the clean-up, we shared a few drinks and he drove me back to my cheap motel in his limo.
“Well, thanks so much for everything,” I said, ready to leave the car, but he wasn’t exactly ready to see me leave.
“Let’s talk inside,” he said.
We entered the motel room and he cut to the chase.
“That house last night was Gwyneth Paltrow’s house,” he said sternly.
“Oh.” My blood ran cold. We were alone and he was standing in front of the door. I was getting flashbacks to Jake’s violent behavior.
“Yeah, and I don’t know why you weren’t answering my calls or texts today or why you ditched the clothing session we had with an Oscar-winning clothing designer, but I want you to know something,” he said, his posture intimidating as he pushed me to the bed.
He pulled his phone out and showed me pictures of myself. Oh my God. I was naked on his bed last night.
“If you ever think of leaving me or cheating on me, I will destroy your career, Jane Roadborn, just like the way drugs and alcohol destroyed your mother’s.”
Oh shit.
Owned Heart - Book 2
How did I end up here? Life is so strange, y’know. One minute I’m dating an abusive boyfriend, the next I’m in LA in some weird hotel with the director of my first film, Michael.
After a night of sex on a beach, he’d taken me back to this hotel that smelled like my grandma’s house and then, he’d unloaded the big one. Something my ex-boyfriend hadn’t even done.
He was currently trying to blackmail me using pictures of my naked body that he took without my permission.
Even though I had enjoyed my night with him, he had to go and take it to a darker turn. He’d ruin my career before I even walked the red carpet on my first film. I had to stay. My dilemma made me ache as he stared at me, but again, he didn’t look so bad. He could be kind when he wanted to, and even sexy. The wrinkle was the fact that he was the jealous type, worried I was off with someone else. What if he knew I’d been with Henry at the beach before she showed up?
“Do you understand?” he asked me as he approached the bed.
“Of course,” I said, not wanting to anger him. Well my first and only film so far. With my luck, of course this was the crazy person I had ended up with. A possessive perfectionist who believed I was something that could be leashed and caged.
He pinched my chin. “I hope you understand, because if you don’t, you’ll understand real quick once I leak these pictures of your tits to TMZ,” he said. “You’re new to Hollywood, trust me when I say make a good first impression on this city and don’t make any enemies.”
He stared into my eyes.
“Right. I understand,” I said.
“Good,” he said and left me alone in the hotel room.
I sat in the kind of shock that could paralyze me, that could send me back to Camden, Maine, with my head in my hands and my hands wet from tears.
The sound of Michael’s limo driving away from the motel came in through the open window and I heard a noise. Shunk. I looked up and saw the door had locked itself.
How could that have happened? It was almost like my mind reached out to lock the door, to protect me from the town. Or maybe myself.
Grandma June had always talked about ghosts in LA. This city had a penchant for bringing out the worst in people. Or maybe it was the people who brought out the worst in Los Angeles. People did bad stuff, they died, and then maybe they haunted these streets. And, apparently, the motels.
I also still felt bad that he had pictures of my naked body, who knows if he had video? Every time my ex-boyfriend Jake had tried to film a little adult video with me, I’d always shut the idea down. The thought of our naked video recorded forever was terrifying. Our sweaty little bodies like slugs humping each other is not my idea of romantic.
Maybe it was Michael’s idea of romantic.
Nevertheless, I shed my clothes like a lizard’s old skin, ready to start work on Michael’s movie on the next day.
I showered, and with the bathroom mirror nice and foggy, I swiped across the mirror. My hand created an opening gash in the fog where I saw my face.
I drew another gash across my body, staring at my boobs. This body was going to be in a real movie. An actual movie with actors and catering. I hoped they would have lots and lots of donuts.
Maybe there was still stuff to be excited about. If I didn’t keep positive, I was going to end up like my mom. Dead in a pile of pills and booze.
Wherever you are, mom, I still love you. I hope to do you proud.
***
I slept through the night thinking about Michael and Henry and what I would do with my life. I was going to be spending several months with both of them. I was even going to have to film a romantic scene with Henry while Michael was directing it. How would he react? Would he burn us at the stake?
I just had to stay relaxed and keep cool. The sun came through the pale white motel curtains as I rubbed my eyes. Then my phone, still clutched in my hand, buzzed me alive. Guess I’d slept with it in my palm, probably scared for my life.
A text came through: Good morning, baby. Can’t wait to see you again, will pick you up in 30 min.
I was hoping it was Henry but it was from Michael’s phone. He was going to pick me up to get started on the film. I didn’t even know the shooting schedule. I’d only come to LA in the last day.
Can’t wait, I wrote back, but hopefully the lack of any emoji or an exclamation mark would clue him into my dissatisfaction with him. Maybe he would break up with me after realizing it, you know. It could happen.
Then another text came through: be careful.
I quickly checked who the text was from: no one. There wasn’t a number or a name.
The door in my motel locked itself, and now I was getting weird texts. Either this city was crazy, or this motel was haunted, but now I understood why my mom had died in this craphole place. I tried to text the number back. Who are you? I wrote but nothing came. I waited, staring at my phone. An answer surely had to come.
Then the phone shook in my hand, jolting me to pull it to my face and read the message. I’m somebody who was burned by HIM. The director. Be careful or you’ll get burned too.
What an ominous message. Had Michael really hurt some woman? Burned? What did she mean? What if she actually meant it literally? Maybe he had killed her and the ghost of the woman was contacting me. That would explain the door locking itself. It was possible.
After I took another shower and got dressed, I waited outside for Michael to arrive, still thinking about the text. The polluted air of Hollywood was far from the expectations I’d had from all the pictures and movies I’d watched.
I had Googled Michael’s name to try and find any other drama that might link him to the girl texting me, but I didn’t find anything beyond simple break-up news about other actresses. Other directors respected him, so much so that his first and only film received a standing ovation at the Sundance Film Festival. I was really surprised since I hadn’t known anything about him or his work before yesterday. I only hoped my role would be good and I could deliver a good—no, great—performance.
It was possible that for every ounce of genius in his blood, there was another ounce of a man who was struggling with himself. Nevertheless, I was a curious girl and I was hungry to prove myself to him.
The limo arrived and the door opened with Michael inside, already drinking. It was barely seven o’clock in the morning.
“You ready to act?” he asked me.
“Yeah,” I said, dismissive of him. My eyes staring out the window. He offered me a glass of white wine.
I remembered how he got pictures of my body naked with the aid of alcohol. I dumped the liquor out the window onto the parking lot pavement of the motel. Then I extended my glass to him. He wasn’t happy, and actually seemed shocked I would do such a thing.
He poured me a refill anyway.
I still had at least one iota of power in this weird relationship.
Without breakfast in my stomach, the wine sizzled in my body like an egg on a desert rock. I just felt it more. My mind reeled back to the weird paranormal experience I’d had back at the motel. I just hoped whatever was in there wasn’t going to follow me to wherever we were going.
The limo stopped at an airfield where a private jet waited. It was a bit small. I wasn’t sure who was coming with us on the jet.
The driver opened my door and I walked with Michael to the jet.
“I hope you don’t get sick on airplanes,” he said.
“I’ll be fine.” My voice was aloof. I wasn’t a good enough actor to fake my enthusiasm for a creep like him.
I held onto the railing as I walked up the portable white staircase that led up to the jet.
Everything was a beautiful cream color and the jet was a nice warm temperature, a haven from the morning cold.
“How many people are joining us?” I asked.
“Just us two.” He smiled.
“Right. And where are we going?”
“Texas. The beginning of Emily’s story,” he said to me as he opened another bottle of wine.
***
The script for the film was in my hands. The title page didn’t even have the real name of the movie. It was just called “Michael Shoemaker Project.”
My hands trembled as I crumbled the sides of the script, so excited to devour the story and see what I was going to get to be able to do.
It felt like the first day of my new life. Okay, deep breaths, Jane. Don’t forget to breathe.
With all the empty seats in the airplane, Michael was sitting next to me. He said it would bring me comfort as the jet took off from landing.
But I was fine, I had done it before. The plane pulled up off the runaway and we were up over LA. It felt like an escape, like my first plane ride out of Camden, but I wasn’t really escaping. I had just escaped from one cage to another. The owner of this said cage was Michael.
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