Jessica Alba -- Paying with Pussy
This story is entirely fictional and is in no way connected with the subject. This story contains adult material and is only suitable for people over the age of 18. If you are under 18 please stop reading now. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living, dead, or undead, is purely coincidental. All characters portrayed in this story are over 18. Do not use this without my permission. (c) Copyright Viper_Noj 2002 onwards. Now, on with the story!
* * * * *
Jessica Alba looked square into the camera pointed close up to her face:
"Hi, I'm Jessica Alba and I'm paying with pussy," she said with a smile.
What had led the Hollywood star to this was agreed a decade in the past; when she'd been starting out a businesswoman in her 20s and setting up her own company, she'd needed financial backing to help get it off the ground despite her own reasonable fortune. She simply hadn't had the resources she needed to realistically commit on her own and had sought out investors to help fund and grow her business. The problem she'd found is that many didn't want to invest with her, or at least nowhere near the level she needed or wanted an unreasonable percentage of her company to make it worth their while. She understood she was new to the whole concept of running a business and it was kind of fair that people wouldn't simply hand her their money, but it was deeply frustrating as she knew she had a good plan and could really make a success of it.
Her vexation had continued for a few months as she received continued rejections until she met a businessman who was interested in her business. His name was Mr Russell, in his 40s with distinguished good looks and a well maintained physique, and after a pitch meeting where she laid out everything she had planned for her company and how she would achieve key goals and profits, she was given positive feedback when he told her he was impressed with her plan and that her goals seemed attainable. What came next was rather unusual and widened her eyes; he offered to fund her business almost entirely himself to the tune of millions of dollars per year whilst she got it started and very generously share the profits with her beyond repayment of his initial investment once it started repaying itself. In return, ten years after signing the contract he wanted her to star in a private pornographic film for him to repay his trust in her.
She'd been taken aback to say the very least. On offer was the backing she needed for her business, but the price was significant and not something she'd expected. On questioning it she'd found him to be a very reasonable and pleasant man, who simply put the offer on the table for her and told her it was entirely up to her whether she accepted or not. Other celebrity women had made similar deals she was told, not that she could get any names, but this was her choice and hers alone. The film would be held entirely privately, shared around some very elite people in the Hollywood circle but never publicly, but it was a porn film nonetheless. She couldn't call it blackmail, the contract was laid out very clearly in black and white and should she sign it that was what she was obligated to do, legally bound to star in a skin flick ten years down the line to repay this opportunity.
She signed the contract after a brief contemplation, telling Mr Russell to give her the paperwork and that she was satisfied with the offer. Right then, Jessica wanted to get on with her commercial venture and decided the price was worth it. If she didn't make a success of it or perhaps her acting career faltered she figured he might not want her anyway, likely wanting to have her for his pornoif she was somebody successful and famous, someone the quiet elite might want to see getting down and dirty on film. She signed her name and forgot about it, setting about building her business with the very welcome funds that started pouring into her account and Mr Russell, who turned out to be a very powerful ally with business acumen and experience she couldn't buy. Months had turned to years as she had built her business exactly as she dreamed of, fighting through the ups and downs of it to turn it into a hugely successful company with value in hundreds of millions of dollars, the profits repaying him handsomely and turning her private fortune from modest to fantastic.
Ten years; it had gone fast, faster than she'd expected, her life just flying by as she continued her career and grown her business into a powerhouse. Coming home after a long day of meetings and work on strategies, Jessica got in to find a very expensive bottle of champagne waiting for her with a card from Mr Russell, congratulating her on the success of her business on its tenth anniversary and to enjoy the bottle as they looked forward to another ten years of success. Jessica did just that and got a champagne flute, pouring herself several glasses as she sat back to toast her own success and how far everything had come. Her phone rang later into the evening;
"Good evening Jessica, I hope you found the champagne I had delivered for you," Mr Russell said in his characteristic tone, smooth and well-mannered.
"I did, thank you, it's absolutely gorgeous," she replied, holding up a glass to no-one in a toast to him and their success.
"Glad you enjoy it, I can have another bottle sent to you if you would like," he replied with a smile.
"I wouldn't mind that, but you really don't have to," she replied with a giggle.
"I'll have one sent over for you to enjoy. Congratulations on ten successful years of The Honest Company, it's been a fantastic investment," he said.
"Thank you, I couldn't have done it without you," she said, and she meant it. Not just his investment but his business guidance had been invaluable.
"Thank you, we've both worked very hard to guide this to where it is today, and hopefully for many more years," he said.
"Many more," she agreed, draining her glass.
"Miss Alba," he said, addressing her seriously and immediately making her take notice, "it has been ten years, and it's time to fulfil your contract."
Her stomach sank, pulse immediately racing as she realised she was on the sharp end of the signature she'd scrawled a decade earlier to sign over her body in exchange for the huge financial opportunity he'd provided had come full circle on her.
"I trust you still intend to honour your contractual obligations?" he asked, as much as statement as anything. Jessica had little choice even if she'd wanted to, the legal and financial costs of trying to back out of the deal were enormous and the contract iron clad. Despite the money she'd made from the venture she couldn't afford to buy her way out of it. And there was another side to it: pride. She had made the deal in full knowledge of what it was and she intended to hold up her end of the bargain. She wasn't a quitter, even if her trepidation about exactly what her payment was made her want to.
"Of course, I'm a professional and intend to fulfil my contract with you," she replied, keeping her voice calm to override her almost all-consuming panic as her mind tipsily raced with thoughts of what he might desire from her.
"Excellent," he replied, the satisfaction clear in his voice.
"What would you like me to do?" she asked, keeping her voice steady even as she hated offering what felt like a carte blanche to him, though he had it anyway. He owned her legally right now.
"Don't worry about that right now, just enjoy the champagne. I'll send over all the details for you," he replied.
"Sure," she said after a pause, expecting him to order her about over the phone, "just let me know."
"Goodnight Jessica," he said politely.
"Goodnight," she replied, putting the phone down. She gasped for breath, not realising she'd been holding it as she hauled in the oxygen, fumbling for the bottle to pour herself another tall glass of the champagne to help calm her nerves. Gulping it down, she thought back to the day she'd signed the contract, that sweltering day in California in her memories, wide eyed and innocent to the world of business as she'd been offered this salacious contract in the most polite and direct manner. She let regrets wash through her momentarily, wishing she hadn't signed the deal, but then thought over where she and the company was now. And then she thought of how exhilarated she'd felt, how hot and horny she'd been immediately after being offered such a contract, knowing that she could use her body to get anything right then, even millions of dollars on a business deal. Musing that at the very least it would be an experience, that the deal was signed and the ink long dry on the contract, she'd killed the bottle and passed out for the night in front of an old movie.
Things had moved quickly, as the next morning she'd had her headache interrupted by a courier delivering some very urgent paperwork to her. Through her slight hangover and strong cups of coffee she'd read the details of the documents that laid out her first venture into adult films. She would be performing at a small studio in North Hollywood, he wouldn't be present for it, instead she would be working with a cameraman slash director and a well hung male pornstar. The documents detailed clearly that it would all be bareback and she needed to get tested merely as a formality to ensure everything was good to go, the basics of the scene she was going to perform and also that she was to be waxed completely smooth of all body hair below her eyebrows. She thoughtfully reached down and pushed her fingers through her neat, thick little strip of dark pubic hair under her robe, thinking how long she'd had her favoured style and that it had to go. She gave a slight sigh but that's the way it was, continuing to read to discover the outfit he wanted her to wear and other odd details. The filming was to happen in two weeks time, so she had a chance to prepare herself.
* * *
The fortnight passed both quickly and slowly, her mind going from confidence about it, owning the situation to panicking over it, worried about what might happen and where it might lead. She comforted herself with the thought that Mr Russell had never lead her wrong, he'd been helpful and supportive through their journey together and she was sure he wouldn't put her in a situation she couldn't handle. She did as asked, going through the medical things outlined as required and a couple of days before getting herself waxed absolutely smooth like a china doll. She arrived at the designated place a few minutes early, looking at the unassuming building and checking the address again to make sure she was in the right place. It didn't seem like any kind of studio to her, but she put that aside and steeled herself, taking a deep breath and bolting a miniature of vodka that she'd brought along in her purse. She needed it to settle her jangling nerves, grimacing and bolting the whole bottle before lowering it, swallowing the last of it and coughing heavily, suppressing a retch as it made her stomach gurgle. She hadn't eaten much, making it a bit of a shock to her system, but she was sure that'd only help it bubble into her quicker.
She got out of her car, locked it and walked quickly across to the building in question on her high heels. It had an entrance way she hadn't been able to see and she was concealed from the road as she pressed the buzzer beside the locked glass door.
"Good morning?" the voice asked simply.
"Uh yeah hi. I'm Jessica Alba, here for an appointment," she said, lowering her voice and glancing around to make sure she wasn't being photographed or anything.
"We've been expecting you, come in," the voice replied, door buzzing as she electromagnetic lock disengaged for her.
"Thanks," she replied as she shoved the door open and went in, pushing it closed with a secure click behind her. She headed up the stairs and was greeted by a man at the top on the landing, extending a hand to her. Jessica reached out and shook it courteously, a brief smile between them.
"Hi Jessica, great to meet you," he said.
