Compromised Alice Exposed Ch 01

The red recording light flickered to life and naturally drew Alice's eyes.

"Hey, can you look up here for me?" The man's voice, calm and practiced, floated from behind the bulky camera.

Alice's gaze shifted, catching on the fingers wiggling above the lens. Her lips pressed into a thin, reluctant line before she gave a small nod. "Sure. Yeah."

She tried to remember his name, but somehow, she'd forgotten it already. It was... Nathan? Maybe Peyton? Something close to that.

"Perfect. So, can you tell me your name and age?"

"Uh, yeah, my name's Alice--" Her face froze mid-sentence, realization crashing over her like a cold wave. She felt herself wince. "Wait, no. Sorry. Can we start over? I just said my real name, didn't I?"

The man chuckled softly as the red light dimmed. "No worries, just a warm up. Are you maybe a little nervous? Want some more water, maybe a soda?"

Alice shook her head quickly. She didn't really want to spend any more time here than she needed to. "No, no, I'm fine. Sorry."

His tone dipped into something almost playful. "Well, you look very pretty."

Her lips twitched into a forced laugh, brittle and unsure. "Oh. Um, thanks."

"There we go. That's a nice smile. Try to hold onto that for me, okay?" The recording light flickered back on. It felt a bit like an eye... judging her. "Let's go again. Hey there, can I get your name and age?"

Alice--no, Ellie now, she reminded herself--squared her shoulders and sucked in a shallow breath. Her nerves buzzed under her skin, but she pushed through it. "Yeah. My name's Ellie, and I'm twenty years old."

"Great to have you here today, Ellie. You're a college girl, right?"

She nodded, a little too quickly. "Oh, uh, yeah."

The man grinned behind the camera, his voice dipping into something cheerful but rehearsed. "Go Stings!"

Her smile twitched, faltered, and slid off her face before she could stop it. She felt the crack, the way it exposed her discomfort in front of the ever-watchful lens. "Mhmm," she mumbled, before forcing herself to speak louder. "Actually, uh, can we maybe edit that out? I don't really want people to know where I go to school."

The man's tone didn't change, but something about it felt firmer, an edge wrapped in sugar. "Our production location's public info, sweetie."

Ellie hesitated, her eyes darting back to the glowing red light. She bit her lip, searching for the right words. "Okay, but, like... can we edit all this out?"

The silence stretched out for a beat too long, the kind that made the air feel too heavy. The man behind the camera didn't answer right away. Instead, there was a shuffle of movement across the room, the faint click of a button. The red light went dark again.

"Ellie," he said at last, his tone softening as though he were leveling with her. "Look, I get it. You're nervous. Totally normal. But you've got to trust me, okay? We're professionals. You've got nothing to worry about."

His words were far too smooth.

Ellie didn't say anything, so he kept going, his tone dipping lower, quieter, like he was sharing a secret with her. "I was just trying to break the ice a little, warm you up. Editing? That's what we do. I promise, we're only keeping the parts where you look good because that's what our audience wants too. And the other part of our job? Making sure you're comfortable, relaxed, feeling good about yourself and all this. It's in our interest to help you enjoy this so you look good and so you want to come back and work with us again.

Especially

with you, since I can tell you're cute and a lot of fun under those nerves. Alright?"

Ellie stared at him, her throat tight, her mind whirring with the weight of his words. She didn't know what she'd expected him to say, but the explanation felt too rehearsed. He'd said it before. Who knows how many times.

"I--yeah, okay," she said, her voice quieter than she meant it to be. She hated how shaky she sounded, like she needed his reassurance to get through this.

He cleared his throat, his demeanor bouncing back to cheerleader mode. "You're doing great. And, by the way, showing up? That's the hardest part, I swear. You wouldn't believe how many girls no-show. But the rest once you're here? That's easy. Nothing new for you. Right?"

Ellie forced a smile, the corners of her mouth trembling with the effort. "Right. Easy."

"Perfect," he said, the red light blinking back on. "So, let's pick it back up. Relax your shoulders. Big breath. There you go. Ready?"

She wasn't, but she nodded anyway. The room felt smaller now, the air thicker, hotter. It wasn't a real filming studio or anything even vaguely legitimate. They were in some crappy studio apartment in some shady apartment complex. Whatever air freshener they were gassing the place with didn't entirely mask the smells: mildew, cheap weed, and other more bodily scents she didn't want to think about too much.

"Ready." She said.

"Alright, let's roll. Name and age?."

She exhaled, her voice steady even if her hands weren't. "Ellie Amber, and I'm twenty."

"Twenty, terrific. You're a college girl?"

"Uh-huh."

"Go Stings?" He prompted. She realized he was testing her to see if she was playing along.

Ellie hesitated but nodded. "Go Stings."

"That's what I like to hear. What would you call your hair color?"

She shrugged slightly, her fingers fidgeting. "Auburn... dark auburn?" she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty even though she obviously knew what her own hair color was. "It's natural."

"And you've got pretty blue eyes?"

"Last time I checked." She blinked at the camera and tried a smile.

"And I'm supposing you're sober, consenting, clean, and permitted to work in these great United States?"

"Yep."

"Good girl," he said, the words coming out light but landing heavy. Ellie's stomach churned, her forced smile faltering just enough to feel it in her cheeks. She tightened it again, trying to mask the reaction. His fingers twitched above the lens, drawing her eyes back to him as if he were pulling strings. "So, Ellie, tell me something

fun

about yourself."

Ellie blinked, the question catching her off guard. Something fun? Everything she could think of felt wrong, too personal, or too revealing. The heat of the red light burned into her, insistent and unyielding.

Apparently, she was taking too long. "Do you go to games? You look pretty sporty."

"No, not really. Uh..." She shifted in her seat. "I--I like music, I guess?"

"Music?" The man's tone perked up like he'd just hooked a fish. "What kind? Do you play something, or are you more of a listener?"

Ellie swallowed hard. The question was harmless, easy even, but her brain was still stuttering. "I, um, play a little guitar. Nothing crazy."

"That's awesome," he said. "I can tell you're being modest. I bet you're pretty good. Acoustic or electric?"

"Acoustic," she shrugged. "Mostly just covers, though."

"And what's your favorite song to play?"

Her mind blanked again. The truth--that she mostly fumbled through half-finished Taylor Swift songs--seemed too embarrassing to share. She let the silence stretch a beat too long before blurting out, "I, uh, don't know. It kind of changes, you know?"

"Are you a music major?" he asked, his tone casual, yet probing.

Ellie stiffened, her shoulders squaring unconsciously as the question landed too close. The answer was simple--no--but it felt like he was testing her limits. She caught herself staring straight at the lens again, the weight of its unflinching gaze pressing against her chest.

"I don't want to give that kind of personal info," she said, her voice firmer this time, carrying a flicker of defiance. "Not on camera."

The man behind the lens shifted, adjusting something she couldn't see, but his practiced tone didn't waver. "Fair enough," he said, smooth as ever. "We'll keep it light, then. Just trying to get to know you a little better, Ellie. That's all."

He didn't wait for her to respond before switching gears effortlessly. "Bet you sing, too?"

"No," she said quickly, letting out a short, sharp snort of laughter. "No one wants to hear that."

"Maybe you'll use some of the money you're going to make on lessons," he quipped.

Fuck you

, the thought rose like bile inside her.

As if she would ever even consider doing anything this demeaning for herself.

The heat in her chest flared, but she wrestled it back down, opening and closing her fingers to keep the energy from spilling over. She forced her face into something neutral, something that might pass for polite, the kind of blank smile she'd been rehearsing in the mirror.

"Yeah, maybe," she said lightly. The words left a bitter aftertaste, but she made sure they sounded sweet.

"And maybe you'll come back and sing us something? Although I imagine you'll be a bit too big for our rinky-dink production pretty quick." He laughed sharply. "Has anyone told you that you have the face of a star before?"

"No," Ellie replied, shaking her head slightly. Her words were sharp as she said them. "I don't really want to be famous. Especially not for..." She cut herself off before she could give him anything he could turn back on her.

"Your boyfriend hasn't told you you look like a star?" He pressed.

"I don't want to talk about my boyfriend on camera. Or at all, really." She shot back, and to her relief, recording light faded.

She bit back the urge to snap, to tell him what she thought of his compliments. Instead, she let the words slip by, offering another tight smile.

"Thanks," she said quietly, her voice flat but steady.

"I'm not playing it up for the camera, you know. You're going to think I tell this to everyone, but

you

really could make

a lot

of fast cash with your look. With a little luck and some work, of course. I'm not going to feed you some line or tell you I'm some big shot who can make it all happen for you or make your dreams come true, I can tell you're smart enough to know that's not true, but I might know people who know people who would love to meet you once you've shaken out the nerves and gotten a little experience under your belt."

Ellie's jaw tightened, and she responded quickly, her tone firm, "That's not what I'm looking for."

"Great answer," he said as if she cared about his unasked-for approval. "We like girls here who know what they want and can express it."

Without warning, the red light began to glow again. Ellie stiffened immediately and tried to plaster her practiced smile back on.

"Alright," the man said, his tone casual but calculating. "Let's keep going, Ellie. You're doing great so far. Just a few more questions. Can you slip off your top?"

Ellie blinked at the lens. "Sorry, was that a question, or a direction?"

The man chuckled. "Good, you're funny."

She hadn't meant to be.

The red light continued to stare at her, an unblinking eye mocking her hesitation.

Well, this was what she was there for, after all. Ellie reached down to the hem of her shirt, her fingers trembling slightly as she began to pull it up, just as she'd practiced in front of her phone.

"Do you have something cute on underneath?" the man asked as she got her shirt above her belly button.

Ellie just nodded.

"Good. You can keep going and keep it on."

How considerate

. Ellie thought, but she pushed through it, her movements feeling awkward as she shimmied her shirt up and over her head, revealing the magenta demi bra underneath. She felt a shiver run through her as the stuffy air hit her bare skin.

Somehow, she managed to keep her arms from moving up to cover herself.

The man behind the camera didn't skip a beat. "Nice. Now, Ellie, do you like your body? Do you think you're sexy?"

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, her arms twitching again with the urge to wrap around herself. "I, uh, I don't know," she murmured, her voice barely audible. She looked down, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I guess," she said softly. "I think I'm, you know, fairly attractive."

The man's voice was still so smooth and oily it made her want to gag. "Come on, Ellie. You've got a great figure. You must know that. Girls don't just have a body like yours without some effort. Or a lot of money." He let out a low chuckle.

Ellie's flush deepened, a mix of embarrassment and discomfort washing over her. "I, uh, I try to take care of myself," she said, her voice a little steadier this time. She looked up, meeting the lens with a hint of defiance.

The man behind the camera nodded approvingly. "That's good. Confidence is sexy, Ellie. Own it." He paused with a breath. "Bet you get a lot of attention with those." His implication was clear, his gaze practically palpable even from behind the camera.

Ellie knew exactly what he meant by 'those.' She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. "Sometimes," she admitted. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm more than she already had.

"There's that modesty again," the man said, his tone shifting back to business. "Now, can you turn around for me? Slowly."

Ellie took a deep breath through her nose, trying to steady her nerves. She stood and turned, feeling the camera's eye on her every move. The red light seemed to burn into her, insistent and unyielding, as she leaned forward slightly without prompting.

"Perfect," the man said, his voice warm. "You've got a great look, Ellie. Very girl-next-door. Now, can you tell me something you love about your body? Something that makes you feel sexy? Let's say other than your tits, so it's not too easy for you."

Ellie hesitated, her mind racing. She wanted to tell him off. She would never, ever let anyone talk to her like that. Not even her boyfriend in a sexy, role play setting. But she bit her tongue, reminding herself that this was part of the deal. She had expected it, even if it didn't make the reality any easier to stomach.

She forced herself to think, to find an answer that would satisfy him and end this line of questioning quicker. She looked down at herself, her eyes scanning her body.

"I like my waist," she said finally. "It kinda curves in nicely, and it makes me feel... feminine, I guess, with my hips and... boobs."

"That's good," the man said, his tone approving. "That's really good. You're right. Now, can you face me again? And this time, can you unbutton those cute little shorts? Just the top button."

Ellie turned to face the camera, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat counting down to the next awful question or direction. She reached down to her jean shorts, her fingers trembling slightly as she fumbled with the button. She managed to unfasten it and she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, trying to brace for whatever came next.

The man's voice cut through the silence, a smirk evident in his tone. "I'm going to guess... the bottoms match the top?"

Ellie felt a flush creep up her cheeks, but she met the lens with a steady gaze. "Yeah," she admitted, trying to keep her voice casual. He'd see them eventually, anyway.

"And just so our audience doesn't get too excited, you're still keeping panties on today, right?" the man asked, his tone almost playful but with an undercurrent of seriousness.

Ellie nodded, her voice as firm as she could manage. "Yes, I'm keeping them on."

"Good girl," the man said, his voice warm with approval. "Never let the camera bully you. Now, I'm always curious, what d'you think is the sexiest part of a man's body?"

Ellie tried to smirk, but it felt more like a nervous twitch. "I, uh, I guess his arms," she said, her voice barely steady. "Strong arms are sexy."

The man behind the camera chuckled, grating her nerves. "Interesting. Pete's got pretty big arms, doesn't he?"

Ellie glanced at the man on the other side of the room. She'd noticed he'd been creeping around behind the camera for a while taking pictures of her with his phone. Now he was just watching with one hand down the front of his pants. She wasn't sure which made her more uncomfortable. "Yeah," she admitted, trying to pretend like he wasn't clearly literally jerking off in front of her. "He has really nice arms."

"Flirting with the talent already, naughty, I like it," the man said, his tone approving, almost amused. "Now, can you slip your shorts down a bit? Just to your knees."

Ellie took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband, pushing them down. Displaying her magenta tanga to the lens.

"How'd you lose your virginity?"

The question was sudden, but she'd figured it was coming eventually. "Yeah, not really much of a story there. It just kind of happaned, I guess, it wasn't really a big deal for me."

"Was it good, did you cum?"

She shrugged. "No."

"Does he think you did?"

"I don't know. I don't think I really fake very well." She tried to sound self-deprecating, but she could hear that it mostly came across as awkward.

The man behind the camera paused. "Hey, I'm sorry, but it doesn't really seem like you're particularly happy to be here. We like working with girls who are here for

the right

reasons, to have some fun and make a bit of quick money, and if you're here for the wrong reasons, we should cut things here." He leaned back, his voice softening. "Look, just for showing up and being a good sport, I'll give you 50 bucks myself, but none of us want you to do anything you're going to regret."

Ellie was taken aback by the offer. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. It probably wouldn't even cover what she'd had to spend just to be here. And anyway, she'd come this far already.

She also couldn't help but notice he was still recording.

Was this still part of the show?

The twisted thought sent a wave of unease through her, but she pushed it aside.

"No," Ellie said, her voice firm and determined. "I want to be here. I'm just a little nervous. I've obviously never, like... done this before."

"All sober, right?" He pressed. "Boyfriend's not pressuring you to be here? He's not here right now, so if there's something wrong, you can tell us and we'll help you. We're nice guys here."

Ellie met his gaze steadily, her resolve unwavering. "Nothing like that. And like I said before, no boyfriend talk, please. It's... kinda disrespectful to me." She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "I'm here because I want to be."

She took a deep breath and smiled. "Can I take off my bra for you?"

"I don't think anyone here's going to stop you." He laughed, sounding a bit surprised for a change.

Ellie gulped another breath of air, her fingers reaching behind her back to find the clasp of her bra. She kept her eyes locked on the camera, her gaze steady and determined. With a quick flick, she unhooked the clasp, letting the straps slide down her shoulders. She pulled the bra off and watched it drop to the floor.

"Why do you bother with a bra? Those don't have sag at all, do they?"

"Do you like them?" Ellie answered the question with a question to avoid a direct response. Her hands slipped up, gently massaging her breasts, using the motion as an excuse to cover them slightly. She liked her boobs well enough, but she had her insecurities. She thought her nipples and areolas looked a bit shrunken and dark.

She'd posted some topless photos of herself online with her face edited out, just so they would technically be 'out there' permanently on her terms first. To remove a bit of power from what she was doing today.

"They're definitely the perkiest tits we've ever seen here. What's the size?" the man asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"32C." She shrugged, feeling their weight shift.

"That's what every B-cup girl who's ever come in here has said. I think we're gonna need some proof. Why don't you flash the tag to the camera?" the man suggested, a playful tone in his voice.