Tom Caley's international stardom had virtually happened overnight. After a few years of minor talent competitions, the 18 year-old's debut album had girls all over the world fawning over him. Those perfect pretty boy looks and soppy love songs made him a natural heartthrob. His audiences (almost all female) screamed for him. Dozens of burly security men were required to hold the hordes of fanatical women back from him.
And yet the true mastermind of Tom's success was Brianna. His step-sister. Taking over as his agent when he was nothing and had no money, it was her song-writing and marketing genius that had made him a star.
And she'd never let him forget it. Luckily for Brianna, she had inherited all the family brains. She'd outwitted her step-brother early on in his career, getting the dumb pretty boy to sign contracts that bound him to her and let her take three-quarters of the profits. What was more, Tom was legally unable to refuse her demands on him. His part of the fortune would be void to her if he dared miss an event she arranged.
With the success of his first album, Brianna started to spy other opportunities for profit. He was now a sex symbol, so why not profit off his sexiness? As women in the West became more empowered and liberated, male objectification was beginning to become a potent selling point. It had started small. Tighter clothes for Tom, more revealing looks. And the female audience lapped it up. Not just young girls Tom's age, bored middle-aged women greedily lusted over suggestive pics of this young lad and desired to see more.
The most recent and controversial development had been an Indian brave costume Brianna had insisted Tom wear at ladies' night performance in a crowded college nightclub. With just an Indian headdress, some leg wraps and a tiny red thong to shield his modesty, the crowd had gone wild! At one point a woman in the audience had grabbed at the strap of Tom's thong and he was nearly in tears with fear as she yanked at it, willing it to snap and expose his penis to the world.
Half an hour previously, there had been a major argument backstage. Tom, naked but for his boxers, had literally been on his knees before his step-sister, begging her not to send him out in this humiliating costume.
"They'll be able to tell the size of my cock!" He complained. His rather small penis was a secret he couldn't bear the world and his new celebrity friends knowing.
"Of course they will." Brianna replied imperiously "We WANT them lusting after your body. Sex sells. Your body, sells. Now if you don't put that thong on you're not getting your clothes back."
The defeated young man relented. Brianna smirked as he dropped his boxers and awkwardly stepped into his ridiculous-looking thong. Seeing his exposed penis reminded her that she owned this man, all of him, every INCH of him was hers to profit off.
Unlike his fans, she knew the real Tom Caley. A vain, spoilt, talentless brat who while growing up had always treated her with a nauseating chauvinist demeanour. But now she had him under the thumb and was determined to enjoy herself whilst making a ton of money of his back. His naked back in this instance.