He Made Me Ch. 09




Jeri is 18 and wants to become a famous porn star, she wants to be the erotic fantasy of thousands of people and she’s willing to do anything to achieve her goals. However, she soon realizes that she needs help and when it comes in the form of Michelangelo, “Mikey”, a much older, unattractive and yet well endowed man, who claims that he can mold her into a star, she accepts it against all reason, embarking herself on a quest to transform into a (erotic) dream version of herself, Jules Sperme, a girl whose passion for anal made her get a tattoo of a giant octopus spreading its tentacles from her asshole, where its mouth is depicted, to her buttocks, lower back and thighs.

Can dreams coexist with reality though?

In this chapter:

Fetishes and WARNING:

Anal, piss drinking, golden shower, tattoos, piercings, smoking, drugs (very little), big fake boobs, face sitting, spanking.

This story is not meant to give a realistic or accurate portrait of the internal workings of the sex industry, it’s just a fantasy.


He made me

9. Always meet you heroes!

Where in the world was Mikey? His plane had landed ages ago! For the umpteenth time I checked the clock on my phone. There was a sweet surprise waiting for him: me in my “birthday suit”, namely naked except for a big butt-plug and a huge red ribbon, a sash really, that encased my body like a birthday present: one vertical loop, passing between my breasts, covering my pussy and then going back up through my butt-crack, towards my head, where it divided in two parts enclosing my neck and joining on my chest; and the other, horizontal, circling my waist, where it was connected to the other with a huge bow on my belly.

I was about to text him, when the door rattled and started opening… Wait, what if he wasn’t alone? Perhaps it had taken him so long because he was in company with someone! Oh, well, it wasn’t as though now the world didn’t know what a slut I was!

“Happy birthday, Mikey!” I cheered as he entered and then stopped still.

The scene was playing out exactly as I had imagined! He was even wearing an outfit similar to the one I had pictured in my mind: Hawaiian shirt, linen shorts and flip-flops!

“It’s not my birthday…” he said with a big smile, lowering his sunglasses.

I just ran towards him and, as I removed the stub of his cigar from his mouth and hugged his short neck, I murmured with a sultry look “It’s always your birthday as long as I live here!” and I french-kissed him, feeling once again in my mouth the nasty aftertaste of his cigar which, now that I was used to it, just reminded me of him.

“It’s good to be home!” he chuckled.

Since I had been curious for a while, I brought his cigar to my mouth and tried to smoke it, only to end up coughing:

“God, that’s disgusting!”

“Only to the layman!” he replied jokingly huffy, taking it back and extinguishing it on an ashtray.

Then he hugged me and we made out again.

“I missed you so much!” I whispered truthfully.

“So, how much exactly?” he boomed with his deep voice that made his and my chest tremble.

“It’s easier to show than tell!” I replied with a smirk.

So, I took his hand and I started to walk towards his bedroom, when he stopped me and yanked me back to him: “Wait a second, brat!” he said, squinting his eyes suspiciously. “Have you been good?”

“Er…” I stuttered, smiling naughtily.

He looked around, in search of signs of damage to the house. Since he wasn’t seeing any, he inquired further: “What did you do?”

“I kinda omitted a few things that happened… But not in this house: no parties as promised!”

“Alright, you’ll tell me later,” he conceded.

So I happily led him towards his bedroom, where he “unwrapped” me excited like a kid on their birthday. However, when I tried to kiss him again, he stopped me and fetched the lube with a big grin on his face.

“Wow, no foreplay huh? Perhaps you missed me more than I did you!”

Without a word he sat on the bed and patted his lap, still smiling. I was about to straddle him, when he shook his head and said:

“Belly on my lap.”

Was he going to spank me? Like, for real? I should’ve been worried, but I was just even more aroused, so I complied without a protest. He used his left arm to hug my chest tightly, turning his torso towards my ass. Feeling trapped and a little scared for what was to come, I waited, but the first slap didn’t come, the only thing shaking my flesh being my heart pounding hard in my chest. Instead, I heard him open the bottle of lube and pour it on his hand: what game was he playing? With a shiver, I felt him slowly extract the plug that I had used to prepare my giant octopus to eat cock.

“Alright, brat, later is now!” he announced, sticking his fingers in my pussy and slowly penetrating it. “What did you hide from me?”

In a delicious mix of fear, excitement and plain curiosity, I cautiously Gaziantep Yabancı Escort started to describe him Amy’s call, while he gently finger-fucked me.

“Are you sure that she doesn’t suspect? Not even a little?” he asked, after I told him of her doppelganger theory.

“I’m not sure…” I said, when he suddenly extracted his fingers from my cunt and slapped my ass hard four times.

“Ouch!” I shouted: it really hurt!

“Bad girl! Go on,” he replied, going back to working my sex with more enthusiasm.

So I told him about her second message and the scene repeated itself as soon as he asked me another question. I had never been spanked so hard, and yet the whole thing was turning me on so much! So we went on and, while I pointlessly tried to wiggle away from his hold, I confessed everything, my plan to keep Amy away from the truth and my feud with Morgan, while I was alternately getting fucked by his finger and receiving thwack after thwack, until my ass burned so much that I was tearing up and whining, and yet somehow very close to climax.

“Alright, come here,” he finally said, letting me go and having me straddle his lap, with my face between his hands. “You must not hide these things from me! I could’ve helped you, given you advice! Taking care of you is my job and my number one priority! You know that you can trust me, right?”

I just nodded, pretending to sob, and then, with a childish tone that turned me on even further, I added sniffling: “Thank you, Mikey, I won’t do it again…”

After that, I kissed him, while my hands slowly reached his pants and freed his bulging member: I needed his cock inside me now more than ever.

“You’ll be good then,” he asked, as I backed off to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Sometimes,” I shrugged, with a bratty smile.

“That’s my girl!” he chuckled, fondling my boobs and bringing one of my nipples to his mouth to suck on it, while I bent laterally the retrieve the lube from the bed.

“So, what do you think of the whole situation?” I asked, as I put the lube on my hands and then on his cock, jacking it.

“I’m going to ponder on both the incident at the club and what to do with Amy. But for now I worry that someone might recognize and identify you publicly as Jeri. Should your future fans discover that your backstory is fictional, your career could get seriously hurt.”

Shit! I hadn’t thought of that. Mikey grunted, as I inadvertently squeezed his cock hard.

“So, what do I do?” I asked, getting worried.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already come up with a solution! You are going to add a Jules as your second legal name! And if it comes up, you can tell people that you’ve always hated Jeri and asked your ex boyfriend to call you Jules for a change.”

“That’s genius!” I enthusiastically approved, kissing him.

That way, if the story ever came out in my hometown, it would also be an explanation of why I had run away all of a sudden.

“I know. You also need to delete all your old social media accounts in order to remove a big chunk of photos identifying you as Jeri.”

For once my drab old social life would come in handy: I was pretty sure that most of the pictures of me that were online came from trusted friends or my profile directly.

“No problem!”

Feeling reassured by his confidence, I pushed him on the bed, so that I could lean forward and kiss him, while my hand grabbed his dick and positioned it in front of my creature’s mouth, still gaping a little. My poor octopus was angry for the beating and starving!

“Directly in the ass, huh?” he commented smugly, taking control of my body by hugging my waist.

I just nodded again, biting my lip and feeling deliciously lewd. His member started to push on my entrance and slowly but steadily made its way in sending shivers of weird pleasure, while I masturbated furiously and made out with my mentor.

“You are going to be an anal queen, Jules!” he whispered when his balls finally touched my buttocks. Right then I felt so accomplished!

“And don’t worry about being abandoned by family and friends, I’ll be there for you…” he grunted, as he started to fuck my ass, caressing my back while I lay with my head on his shoulder. “At Barbie Baby’s party you’ll enter a new world that will accept you. Everything is going to be alright.”

Oh, how I had missed the way he could always dispel my fears!

His pace increased, filling the otherwise silent room with the lewd squelching sounds of his member sliding in and out of my ass, stretching it deliciously wide, and my hand working on my sex, until he exploded and so did I.

“Oh, and the party is tonight!” he said all of a sudden, while we cuddled, as I was finishing my after-sex cigarette.

“Mikey!” I exclaimed, getting up immediately and slapping his big belly, while he just chuckled amused by my panic. “What about the gift? And the dress!”

“Oh, don’t worry about the gift, we’ll say that mine is from the both of us and trust me, it’s going to be her favorite!”

“Really? What is it?” I asked with curiosity.

“Oh, it’s one of my best ideas, you’re going to love it! So, basically I remembered that–” he started explaining when he interrupted himself. “You know what? I’m not going to tell you, this is too much fun!”

“You prick!” I screamed, hitting him several times, before jumping off the bed and lighting up a second cigarette, while his jizz and lube trickled from my ass on my thighs.

“Wardrobe emergency! Come here at once!” I texted Lotus, after I had wiped my creature’s mouth with a tissue, feeling like a mom cleaning her baby’s drool.

Most of my dresses were laid out on my bed and I was nervously browsing some more on the web catalog of a store, when I heard the bell ringing and then Lotus’ voice saying to Mikey, somewhat robotically: “Hello, sir. You must be Jules’ sugar daddy. My name is Lotus, and I’m dating your sugar baby. It’s an honor to meet you!”

“Yeah, hi, you can call me Mikey…” my mentor replied, perplexed. “And you don’t need permission…”

“Yeah, of course it’s her choice, but I wanted you to know that I’m very respectful and I would never do anything untoward to your sugar baby.”

She sounded kind of like my date for the prom meeting my dad, which was probably the idea: Lotus had a penchant to turn every awkward situation into something truly absurd for her own amusement, which I had the feeling was always the end-goal whenever she joked, rather than making those around her laugh. She simply liked to make fun of the world.

“Aren’t you lezzing it out with her?” Mikey was asking, growing more and more confused.

“Yes, but whenever we have intercourse, it’s always with condoms. I’d never risk getting her pregnant, you have my word. Sir.”

That was actually true, I realized chortling: she used them when we had sex with the strap-on in order to make it easier to clean the dildo after sex.

“Sure… Come in.”

A few seconds later they were both at my doorstep. Lotus was even holding a red rose! The fact that it had no wrap elicited in me a strong suspicion that she had just cut it from one of our rich neighbors’ flowerbed.

“Your friend is weird,” my mentor said, as she awkwardly handed me the flower.

“You can’t tell me who I should date, sugar daddy!” I retorted with a bratty attitude, joining the game.

Mikey just rolled his eyes and headed to the living room, mumbling by himself.

“I hope he approves of me,” Lotus said, observing the bed.

“Next time bring chocolates. To bribe him, not for me!” I replied with a smirk, sniffing the rose.

“The wardrobe emergency was some kind of explosion?”

“Tonight I’m going to Barbie Baby’s birthday party!”

She stared at me blankly.

“The porn star! That porn star!” I repeated, astounded, pointing at the poster I had on my wall, which depicted Barbie Baby naked, standing on transparent stripper heels and staring at the ground, seemingly shyly, her legs crossed and her arms behind her back. “How can you possibly not know her?”

“Gee, sorry if I’m not a porn addict like you,” she defended herself shrugging.

“I’m not a porn addict!” I replied, as I extinguished the cigarette in an ashtray, crossing my arms and pretending to be offended.

“You watch porn like normal people watch TV. I’ve seen you having breakfast while distractedly watching a gang bang,” she murmured, putting a hand on my shoulder, looking at me as if she was dealing with a crazy person.

“That’s just professional interest!”

“So you didn’t do it before deciding to become Jules…” she provoked me.

“Shut up!” I jokingly panicked. “I’ve bigger problems now. What do I wear? I wanna look awesome, she’s my hero!”

“Ok,” she said, picking up one of the dresses, “what about this one? That’s hot.”

“None of them are hot enough!” I replied snatching it from her fingers and throwing it back on the bed. “I want a dress that makes me look stunning and classy, not just hot. I’ll buy a new one.”

“Bitches be crazy,” commented Lotus, shaking her head, while I quickly got dressed up.

A few minutes later we were on her car.

“You know, I don’t think classy is your style,” Lotus said, after she had parked it, as I was lighting yet another cigarette.

“What?” I reacted, somewhat offended.

“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t mean that you are crass or anything. It’s just that classy is usually boring, and you are a fun person. You should wear something playfully sexy.”

Perhaps she was right: the way Mikey had described the party, it wouldn’t just be a small thing with close friends and Barbie Baby would likely be surrounded by elegant women: if I wanted to stand out, I had to do something different.

“Ok, let’s do that!”

We had an abstract idea, but making it concrete was a completely different matter. For a couple of hours, we wandered aimlessly, until Lotus stopped me before a department store.

“How about you make it yourself? You know, like you do with your stripper outfits?” she proposed, pointing at a cheap pinstripe black suit for men in the shop window. “You could modify that and turn it into a dress or something, as you did with Mikey’s shirt.”

“Yeah, a play on being elegant! I could cut the pants vertically on the side to show my legs and wear the jacket open with nothing underneath…” I mused.

Some time later we were furiously adapting the suit, which was purposely too big for me. My mom had taught me how to sew a little, but there was just no time to stitch all the hems, so we mostly went for a frayed and DIY look. The pants were wide for my figure and too long, even with the very high platform heels I was planning to wear, so I shortened them a little until they were brushing the ground with the shoes on. Then I cut their sides up to my knee. A man’s belt would keep them up, giving them a ruffled waist. As for the jacket, I reduced the length of its sleeves by rolling them up and its waist by folding it vertically on the back a little and sewing it: this way my belly and a good portion of my chest would always be on display and, whenever I raised one arm, my whole boob would be shown. I loved how slutty I would look!

Since the whole idea sent also a vague punk vibe anyway, we decided to go for some more attitude. While I worked, Lotus retraced all the white stripes with a pink highlighter, therefore coarsely dyeing them. She wasn’t precise and you could see her trembling lines also on the dark fabric, but that just gave some verve to the suit. It still needed more character, so she also installed metal studs on the shoulder pads. The end result was far from perfect, but I was really happy with it: it was recognizable, original, very porn-star-like, and personal, exactly what I wanted.

“You finally ready?” Mikey boomed, adjusting his white fedora, looking even more like a stereotypical pimp than usual: his hair was slicked back, the first buttons of his pink shirt were left undone to show a gold chain on his hairy chest, and of course he was wearing black loafers with his white linen shorts.

“Do you have a black hat?” I asked, caught by a sudden inspiration.

When there was one on my head, I exclaimed: “Yeah, now I’m ready!”

I thanked Lotus for the help with a kiss, telling her that I wasn’t sure I would make it at work that night.

“I’ll be slutty for you too, then,” she shrugged.

In Mikey’s car, I kept checking my make-up and smoking frantically.

“Calm down, Jules, you are making me nervous!”

“Barbie Baby is my number one favorite porn star! I’ve been following her for ages. I used to think: ‘When I’m a grown woman, I wanna be like her’! Have you ever had someone like that?”

“Nope, I never thought about what I wanted to be as grown woman!” he chuckled. “Don’t embarrass me, ok? She’s cool, be cool.”

“Gee, thanks, now that I know that I should be cool, all my problems are solved!”

“Teenagers!” Mikey grumbled.

The goddess (that’s how I called her in my mind) lived in a pale pink cottage with white decorations, only partly visible because of the tall hedges that surrounded its garden. Hidden between their foliage and mounted on an almost invisible iron fence, there was a string of pots containing white flowers, which decorated nicely the top of the hedge as if they were sprouting from it. We could already hear the music being played, which however wasn’t as loud as my heartbeat at that moment.

“Grab the present in the glove compartment,” said Mikey as we were getting off his convertible.

“What in the world is it?” I asked, examining the long thin pink box in my hands, not much bigger than a pencil case, tied shut with a red ribbon and a card reading “From Mikey, Jules: happy birthday!”.

Mikey shrugged with an impish grin, sadistically enjoying my growing curiosity.

“Ugh! You are the worst! And the card is not even written right!” I complained. “You can’t just use a comma in a list of two people!”

“What are you, the grammar police?” he retorted, snatching the box from my hands and taking me by the arm towards the gate, where a young man checked our names against a list and allowed us to enter.

People, a sea of people! That was all my eyes could see, not the nice garden where we would spend the night, not the fancy DJ set, not the buffet or the jacuzzi, only the panic-inducing crowd.

“Let’s find the birthday girl…” Mikey boomed.

No need: there she was, a blonde 25-year old of statuesque beauty, in an impossibly hot long white sleeveless and backless dress, with the neckline reaching way under her belly and twin rips on the sides of the skirt, starting from above her hips and showing the full length of her toned legs. The two bands of cloth that basically constituted the whole top barely managed to cover the two perfect huge globes that were her fake boobs. Perhaps they had hypnotized me, because all of a sudden I found myself in front of her, completely frozen and unaware of how I got there.

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