America's Sweetheart

I wrote this story a number of years ago, in fact it was my very first erotic story. I received a couple of comments on my Kristy stories, also here on Literotica, suggesting that the sex was too long coming, or a bit understated. Okay, that's me as an author. As a reader or viewer of adult entertainment, I prefer when a story or video is 95% story, and 5% sex. That's what I like to read, so that's what I write. I hope you enjoy my story!

*****

Jenny Brite's meteoric rise to become one of Hollywood's top actresses seemed to happen overnight. But, like most stars, she had toiled for several years making commercials, and appearing in small parts in movies and on television. Acting alternated with her second career as a waitress on Sunset Boulevard. But when she was 26, Jenny landed the starring role in what was to become a major hit, a romantic comedy called "The Other Girl Next Door." From that point, Jenny Brite quickly became a household name.

She was truly a classic beauty. Petite and slender, with straight auburn hair flowing over her shoulders, Jenny had had high cheekbones, flawless skin, naturally rosy cheeks, and stunning blue eyes. Her breasts were rather small, but she always wore a padded push-up bra, which gave the appearance of a 34C bust, to go with her 23-inch waist and 34-inch hips.

That role was quickly followed by another romantic comedy, starring opposite her future husband Josh Garret, who had once been touted by People Magazine as the "Sexiest Man Alive." And the storybook romance caught the attention of the entertainment world like few ever had. One of Hollywood's top leading men, now wed to America's Sweetheart, was the story people craved. Two years later, when she gave birth to little Joshua Garret Junior, Jenny made the cover of almost every magazine in the grocery store.

She was turning out a new film each year, every one a romantic comedy, and every one a box office smash. With her unbroken string of successes, Jenny had been tagged by the media as the current "America's Sweetheart." This informal title had once held by the likes of Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts, and Sandra Bullock, some very impressive company.

Try as they may, the paparazzi had been unable to dig up any dirt on Jenny. They looked for a history of drugs or alcohol problems, but she had neither. They couldn't even find so much as a traffic ticket. They tried desperately to find any nude photographs that might exist, but there were none to be found. For despite her physical beauty, Jenny was very shy about her body. Her contract, at her absolute insistence, contained a no-nudity clause, and she had even declined when asked to appear in one scene clad in only her bra and panties.

And while her films might well have been described as "chick flicks," guys seemed to love her movies as much as women did, simply because they wanted to watch anything with Jenny Brite in it. She worked hard to reclaim her pre-childbirth figure, and she was now earning ten million dollars per film. By the time she was 32, Jenny had the world at her feet. She was financially well off, she was immensely popular, gorgeous, healthy, and married to the love of her life. On top of that, the most important part of her life was her beautiful young son. She truly had it all. But somehow, she felt that something was missing.

What Jenny really wanted, and she told her agent this, was to make other types of films. With five hit movies behind her, all romantic comedies, she wanted to try something different. She wanted to star in a drama, or better yet, an action thriller, but something that would allow her to broaden her horizons as an actress. Jenny wanted to play a cop, or a private detective, or possibly an FBI agent. She wanted to dodge bullets, catch the bad guys, maybe even save the world! But she didn't want to do any more romantic comedies, at least not for a while.

Her agent, however, disagreed. Paul Tepper, one of the top agents in Hollywood, managed some of its most successful talent. It was he who had spotted Jenny in a commercial for a floor cleaner, and he'd immediately recognized her star potential. He quickly signed her to an exclusive contract, and set her on the road to stardom. But, in his wisdom, Tepper knew Jenny was best suited for the types of roles that had made her a star. He landed her another romantic comedy, and it was destined to become another hit.

It was at this point that Jenny's life started to unravel. It began when she was driving home from the studio, after viewing the final cut of her sixth film, several weeks prior to its scheduled theatrical release. Proceeding down Sunset Boulevard at the speed limit, another vehicle ran a red light at high speed, striking her car broadside on the passenger side. Had anyone been sitting on that side, they very likely would not have survived. Jenny, wearing her seatbelt, suffered numerous bruises and contusions, but her neck was jerked violently by the impact, resulting in a whiplash-type injury.

Following a short stay in the hospital, Jenny was released with instructions to undergo physical therapy, and with a prescription for OxyContin to help control the pain. Never having been a drug user, Jenny was hesitant to try the powerful narcotic, which she knew only by reputation. But the severe, unrelenting pain in her neck eventually persuaded her to give it a try.

And it worked! A short time after swallowing one of the tablets, the pain had almost completely vanished. What a relief! Jenny had never experienced anything like the pain from her injured neck, and now the pain was all but gone; at least for a while. When the pain once more became unbearable, she quickly took another OxyContin. And that was the beginning of her fall from grace.

Jenny did her therapy as instructed, but without the OxyContin, the pain would invariably return. Her husband Josh became concerned, and made her promise to cut back on the pills. She tried, but the pain would soon grow intolerable again. Not wanting to upset her husband, Jenny Brite went behind his back, using her star power to go "doctor shopping." She easily found several physicians willing to write her a prescription, each of which she filled at a different pharmacy, paying cash each time. Without even realizing it, Jenny had become addicted to the powerful narcotic.

She was able to hide that addiction for a while, but Josh soon began to grow suspicious. Once, leaving little Joshua with Josh's sister Rebecca, they headed off on a long drive to a bed and breakfast inn for the weekend. Jenny switched her purse just before leaving, and forgot to pull her pill stash out of its hiding place. Her injury had largely healed, and she was no longer feeling any significant neck pain by this point. But without being able to satisfy her addiction, withdrawal symptoms quickly began to creep up on her.

She seemed a little cranky when they arrived at the bed and breakfast, and after what was supposed to be a romantic dinner at a local seafood restaurant, she began to sweat. This was followed by a feeling so cold, she couldn't stop her teeth from chattering. Her heart seemed to be pounding so hard in her chest, she was afraid she might be having a heart attack. She was vomiting, and diarrhea hit during the night, as well. Jenny insisted it must be food poisoning, but Josh was skeptical; they had both eaten the same thing for dinner, and he had no symptoms.

They headed for home on Saturday morning, following a sleepless night for both. As soon as they arrived home, Jenny made a beeline for her hidden stash, and eagerly swallowed one of the blessed painkillers. Josh was suspicious at her behavior, and followed her, catching Jenny red-handed. A major fight ensued, but Jenny eventually broke down, admitted the truth, and promised Josh that she would quit the pills. She gave him the bottle of OxyContin, the contents of which he promptly flushed down the toilet.

But while Jenny's intentions were good, her addiction was far stronger than her willpower. She had hidden the pills in several other places, and was soon feeding her craving again. She couldn't hide the truth from Josh for long, though, and after another major fight, Josh packed some things and moved out, taking little Joshua with him. Despite her pleas, Josh figured that Jenny needed a dose of tough love, and that this might shock her into getting the help she needed.

***

Jenny thought her life had hit a low point, but she had no idea. Josh had figured that his leaving would convince her to get help, but several months later, when he realized she wasn't going to do what it would take to help herself, in desperation, he filed for divorce. The custody battle that followed was bitter, but Josh was ultimately granted full custody of their son, with Jenny only being allowed supervised visitation. The judge had suggested that, once Jenny could demonstrate that she was past her addiction, she might then be awarded joint custody. Josh even hinted that he might take her back, if she could just clean herself up.

By this point, Jenny hadn't made a movie in nearly two years. Josh was still acting, and to Jenny's dismay, she read in a tabloid that he had become romantically involved with a co-star, Kellie Bennett. Kellie was primarily a Broadway stage actress, and Jenny soon learned that Josh had moved to New York to be with his new love, taking little Joshua with him. Again, Jenny thought she had hit bottom, but the worst was yet to come.

Jenny and Josh had always kept their finances separate, and Jenny had unwisely invested her entire fortune with a brokerage house known as Andrew Simpson & Associates. When she learned that Andrew Simpson had been arrested by the FBI for running several financial scams, and that her entire fortune was gone, Jenny began to panic. She and Josh owned their three million-dollar house outright, and she had her BMW, but she didn't have more than a few thousand dollars in her checking account. Everything else was gone. She vaguely remembered that property taxes would be coming due soon, and she knew she didn't have enough cash to pay them. And she was ashamed to ask Josh for help.

Jenny knew she had to go back to work, and she made a call to her agent, Paul Tepper. His reception was cool, however. He had tried repeatedly to get Jenny back to work, but she had mostly ignored him. She'd been largely out of the public eye for a couple of years, with the exception of the paparazzi, who'd had a field day with her drug problem, blowing it far out of proportion in their lurid stories. When Paul finally agreed to meet with her later that week, he saw a woman who was but a shadow of her former self. Her hair had lost its luster, her pale cheeks no longer held that rosy glow, even her eyes were dull and lifeless. She had lost about fifteen pounds, by his guess, and she had always been slender, with never an ounce of fat visible.

He promised he'd make some calls, but Jenny Brite was no longer the hot property she had once been. Producers no longer had any interest in placing her in the starring roles that had been laid at her feet, back when she was America's Sweetheart. She had an offer for a small role, from a young producer who had benefited from her extreme popularity a few years back. She didn't want this small role, though, and she begged her agent for some other choices.

Paul introduced her to another agent, Arnie Levin, but Arnie didn't seem interested, either. After a private meeting, Arnie did promise to introduce her to yet another agent, Sam Gordon, who might take her on. She met with Gordon, and he seemed eager to sign her up. Apparently, he still saw star potential in Jenny, while both Paul and Arnie were afraid she'd damaged her name beyond repair. Paul released her from the exclusive contract they had maintained for so many years, thinking she was signing with Arnie Levin. If he'd known she was signing with Sam Gordon, however, he would have cautioned her to keep away from him.

So Jenny Brite signed with the new agent, one whose reputation had at that time eluded her. Sam Gordon promised her the sort of roles she had so long desired, with a chance to play a cop or an FBI agent, starring in action films. Gordon even arranged an advance payment of a hundred thousand dollars against her first film, and Jenny was now financially solvent again. And to his credit, he did finally convince Jenny to enter a rehab program, to kick the OxyContin addiction. He wanted her to be clean and fresh for her return to the spotlight.

She completed her six weeks of rehab. The program was difficult, but when she came out, her mind crystal clear for the first time in nearly two years, Jenny could see clearly how badly she had messed up her life. She hired a personal trainer, determined to get herself back in shape, even bulk up a little, in preparation for her dream role.

Gordon sent her three scripts to read, each with her in the leading role of an action film, and he told her she could have her pick. After reading each script three times, she chose a cop thriller where she was to play a homicide detective named Kim Callaghan. Her character was to be kidnapped by a gang of eight bad guys late in the film. She would be rescued in a fabulous shootout, during which she would overpower two of the bad guys herself, take their guns, and shoot her way out. Jenny knew it was hoaky, but she was eager for the role, and eager to be working again.

She was to be paid only a half a million dollars for the film, plus residuals; having earned ten million per film during her peak, this was a big step down. But she wanted to get her career started again, and she saw this film as the best opportunity to accomplish this. So when Jenny signed the contract with the new studio to make the film, she did so eagerly, but without reading many of the details. She had figured it was a standard contract, and glanced through the multi-page document, but neglected to peruse the details. This oversight would come back to haunt her.

Things were looking up for Jenny, and she waited for filming to begin. Josh had come to visit for a few days, bringing Joshua, now six years old, with him. With her mind clear for the first time in almost two years, Jenny apologized for her horrid behavior, and begged her ex-husband's forgiveness. Josh had split from Kellie Bennett, and was happy with the change he saw in Jenny. He still loved her, and he was even dropping hints about possibly coming home for good.

And Jenny was thrilled to be working again. She liked her new director, Ben Wilde, and she liked the role she was playing. Most of the low budget film was soon in the can, but she learned Wilde wanted to reshoot the kidnap and final gun battle scenes, with a few strategic changes. She did find that this sort of film was a lot more work than a simple romantic comedy, but she was still enjoying herself, regardless of the long hours. The cast and crew took Sunday off, with the hope of wrapping production by the following Friday.

***

Monday morning, Ben Wilde, the director, handed Jenny a new copy of the script, telling her that some minor rewriting had been done for the kidnap and final shootout scenes, and pointing out that a number of scenes already in the can would have to be redone. No problem, thought Jenny, until she began to read through the revisions. There must be a mistake, she assumed, when she read that the bad guys had been rewritten as quite a bit more sadistic than in the original shoot. As soon as they had the detective character, Kim Callaghan, back at their hideout, she was going to be stripped naked and gang-raped by eight guys!

Jenny immediately protested to the director, citing the no-nudity clause in her contract. At this, Ben Wilde actually laughed out loud, what seemed to Jenny a diabolic tone to his laughter. He tersely explained that her contract did not have a no-nudity clause, and that the producers would never have signed her to one that did. She protested again, threatening to quit the film if the scenes weren't restored. Wilde laughed again, then sent an assistant to bring a copy of the contract Jenny had so trustingly signed.

Jenny pored over every word, trying to find the no-nudity clause, but it simply wasn't there. Further, the contract stated that if, for any reason, Jenny Brite failed to complete the film, precisely as directed by Ben Wilde, that the hundred thousand dollar advance was to be returned immediately; in addition, the full cost of production would be recoverable from her in court. Jenny tried to reason with Wilde, but he coolly explained that while he was taking a chance with a has-been like her, he still hoped to make big bucks from this film. And what better way to get people to pay money to watch his film, than by putting America's Sweetheart on the big screen, naked as the day she was born?

Jenny was stunned by the sudden callousness in Wilde's tone. She felt she'd been betrayed, although she couldn't think of anyone to blame it on. Jenny pleaded with the director to be reasonable, but his heart was hard. He told her she would film the scene exactly as in the rewritten script, and that she would do it without giving him a problem. Sure, she could be embarrassed, in fact, so much the better. But if she made it too difficult for him, he had plenty of ways to make it even more difficult for her.

Stunned, Jenny could only shake her head in disbelief. Sure, she'd signed the contract, in the naive belief that it would be like any other contract she'd ever signed. Of course, her former agent Paul Tepper had always been on her side, ensuring she was being dealt with openly and fairly. But she was on her own now, with nobody looking after her interests. It appeared she had no choice but to proceed.

Jenny Brite was well-known in Hollywood for her ability to get scenes right on the first take. As a rule, it was only when another actor blew his lines, or the lighting, makeup, or some other detail was wrong, that a retake became necessary. Wilde wanted to wrap the film up as soon as possible, so he made Jenny an offer. He would clear the set of all but the most critical crew and other personnel, to minimize her embarrassment. But if her actions caused any retakes, he would bring more crew members in to watch. If she screwed up too many times, he'd make it an open set, and invite tourists off the street to film her with their own video cameras!

Jenny knew she'd been had. True to his word, once the scene was set up, Wilde cleared the set of all extraneous personnel, including lighting men, gaffers, grips, makeup, hairstylists, and almost everyone else. Only the assistant director, five cameramen, and the eight actors playing the bad guys were present.

Jenny tried to rationalize what it appeared she was going to have to do by reminding herself what a mess she'd made of her life with those horrid pills. If this was her punishment, well, it looked like she had little choice but to go through with it. She was terrified, though. The only men who had ever seen her naked were her doctor, two boyfriends, and eventually her husband. And now, thirteen more people were going to see her bare breasts, and all the rest! But what else could she do? The consequences of refusing were worse.

The scene began with two of the bad guys dragging Detective Kim Callaghan out of the van and into the house. She was taken to a living room, where the eight actors, in character, gathered around her. When the bad guy leader, armed with a 45 caliber handgun, uttered the command to strip, she slowly began to fumble with her blazer. Under the gray blazer, Jenny wore a white blouse, with slacks which matched the blazer, along with her usual padded, push-up bra and cotton panties, both white.

When the fumbling had exceeded a full minute of film time, the director called for filming to cut. He patiently instructed Jenny that, while she was doing extremely well looking embarrassed, she was moving much too slowly. The entire stripping scene was to fill a good four minutes, but she couldn't spend so much time on just her blazer. They started again, and this time the blazer was gone in twenty seconds. But after a minute and a half, shaking nervously, she'd only undone the first two buttons on her blouse.