The Talent Scout 02: Emma’s Rise

Note to Readers -- When Kmaf and I came up with the premise for part 2, we decided to take a different approach, but once I got writing, the rest of Emma's story poured out. Part 3 will move the story in the direction he and I originally decided on, but this one was all me.

Note to Kmaf -- I initially meant to make the rest of Emma's story more of a side note, but it ended up becoming its own thing.

All characters engaged in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

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The Talent Scout 2

Emma's Rise to Fame

by st0rmbringer

18-year-old Emma edged away from the wet spot made by a thick glob of the old man's blood-streaked cum slowly oozing out of her throbbing vagina and lay curled into a tight little ball on the dirty twin mattress. She lay there for nearly half an hour before finally getting slowly to her feet.

Her body ached and the old man's kissing, nipping assault and the scrape of his thick scratchy beard on her nipples and breasts had left them raw and sore. She felt a throb deep inside her from the savage pounding he'd given her and a faint burning pain from her torn hymen. The lips of her sex felt tender and swollen.

Humiliation and shame washed over her at the heat and arousal caused by the unwanted memories of the past hour's degrading events.

Her blackmailer sat on the small sofa fully dressed and watched her every move with dark glittering pig-like eyes. They were close-set and sunk deep in his face.

He was a morbidly obese, fat-bellied, 66-year-old man who looked ten unhealthy years older... and she'd just had sex with him. Nausea washed over her and she fought to keep from throwing up. He had to weigh 300 pounds or more, at least three times as much as her.

What little hair he had was slicked over the top of his shiny bald head and would've looked ridiculous if it wasn't for the evil smirk on his fat flat ugly face. He had thick cheeks, several large wobbly chins and his pale yellowish skin was splotched red with a strange rash.

Emma hung her head in humiliation and tried to cover herself with her hands and arms as his eyes roamed her naked body shamelessly. She kept a leg bent, trying to hide her shaved loins from his leering gaze.

Emma glanced at the old man from beneath long lashes and blushed with shame at the self-satisfied smirk curving his thick lips.

He sat bent over with his elbows on his knees, casual, arrogant and relaxed, completely confident in his power over her.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked, his menacing voice low and raspy.

Emma didn't move, she stood listlessly, her long sweaty blonde hair hanging over her beautiful elfin face like a curtain.

Thomas waited a few heartbeats then he straightened suddenly and his voice lashed her like a whip.

"I ASKED YOU A FUCKING QUESTION!" he bellowed, spittle spraying from thick lips.

Emma jumped, tossed her sweaty hair aside, met his angry glare and nodded fervently. A thrill of fear and sexual excitement sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't help her body's reaction, it was still keyed up for sex, getting hotter and more aroused by the moment and the old man's angry tone and dominant attitude only added fuel to the fire building inside her.

Thomas had no idea his brash arrogance was affecting her. He assumed she was ready and eager to end the "shoot" and go home... and then probably call the cops on him.

He had to nix THAT right away. He had to maintain the momentum, keep the upper hand. Show her she had no choice but to submit to him, do exactly as he said.

Emma's wide innocent blue eyes stared unblinkingly at the hideous old man and he glared back at her, his chest heaving, his breath rasping through his throat in assumed anger.

Damn she was beautiful, he thought to himself. Her wavy golden hair, enormous light blue eyes, sharp slim features and full luscious lips gave her an exceptionally fragile beauty, even with the humiliated expression on her face.

"Stop covering yourself," he commanded, his voice brooking no disobedience. "From now on, you keep your hands down and let me look at you whenever I want."

He paused, leaned forward threateningly and glared intently at her.

"You fucking understand me?" he hissed, still angry.

Emma let her hands drop from her body, hung her head and nodded. She was wildly aroused, but there was no way she'd let him know that. She wanted to leave, to end the nightmare.

He stood.

"Good. Follow me," he demanded.

He walked to the door, unlocked it with the key from his pocked and stepped into the cold dark store.

Emma followed close behind, afraid someone would see her through the tall wide windows, but it was dark outside and not a soul was around.

The tile floor was cold under her feet, the cool air-conditioned air made her sore nipples harden and pucker and she shivered with cold, but she followed the old man obediently, making no attempt to run. Her sluggish brain urged her to do as she was told.

Thomas led her to a small side room where a low wide desk crouched against the back wall with an office chair tucked underneath. Perched on its top was a powerful desktop computer, a keyboard, a control board of some sort, a mouse and three enormous monitors which nearly covered the entire wall.

"Shut the door," he commanded.

Emma instantly obeyed.

Thomas sat on the chair and brought the computer to life. The three monitors flashed suddenly and showed an extended Windows desktop.

He opened a video application and expanded it until it filled the center screen.

Emma gasped in horror.

She tried to look away, but her eyes were glued to the monitor. Dread filled her soul, making her shiver with something other than cold. A crisp, high-definition video of herself an hour before in the room having her picture taken filled the display.

He used the control board to fast-forward the video and zoomed in to a point where she saw herself having sex with the disgusting, corpulent old man. She could see both their faces clearly and despised herself for what she saw... she was trapped and there was nothing she could do about it.

She watched the screen, unable to tear her eyes away.

She saw the revolting old man's fat pimpled ass lay between her spread thighs and bounced and quivered powerfully with the force of his thrusts. Her legs were tight around his waist, her heels were hooked behind his fat cellulite-covered thighs and her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck as she kissed him passionately.

She watched the girl on the screen press her big breasts into the disgusting old man's fat chest salaciously and meet his powerful thrusts with a power and enthusiasm to match his, grunting and moaning in the throes of her passion like a ten-dollar whore.

Thomas turned to face her, his fat face set in a malevolent smirk. God, she abhorred him and yet at the same time she couldn't tear her eyes from the monitor. She was highly aroused and desperately wanted to reach down and rub her aching clit at the images flashing on the screen.

He saw her flushed face, rapidly rising and falling chest, parted lips and glazed horrified eyes and knew definitively that she was his for the taking.

He reached out and fondled a large round breast intimately, flicking her hard little nipple with his thumb. It was firm and so big that his big hairy-knuckled hand could hardly contain it.

"This video is mine," he graveled, nodding at the screen. "If you don't pay off the rest of the contract, if you try to hurt yourself, if you tell anyone... HELL, if you do anything I don't like, I'll post it on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and every other social media I can think of... and I'll tag your family and all your goddamn friends."

He stood and leaned in close to her so that she felt his hot fetid breath wash over her like foul-smelling steam.

"You're MINE," he hissed intensely.

"You're fucking MINE!"

Tears streamed down her face and a choking sob mixed with a high-pitched giggle escaped her lips.

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Emma stumbled into her bedroom two hours later, right before her parents' curfew, dropped the bag containing her gray-blue dress and pink bikini and stood in the middle of her room uncertainly. She desperately wanted to tumble into her fluffy bed, but she didn't want HIS stench on her sheets. She had to take a shower and wash his stink from her body.

After he showed her the video, he took her back to the studio, set up the camera again and they had another "shoot." This time, he took naked pornographic pictures of her, the kind of pictures you see in a filthy porno magazine like Hustler. He got close-ups of his cum oozing from her flushed and swollen pussy. It was streaked with her virgin's blood and dried on her pale inner thighs.

After a several minutes of standing behind the tripod nursing a boner hard enough to chip stone, Thomas set the camera's timer to snap a picture every two seconds and quickly stripped off his clothes.

When he looked at the pictures later, his favorites were of Emma on her knees in front of him, his thick cock plunging between her bulging tits, and her nearly crossed eyes looking down at it with a look of disgust twisting her lovely features. He wished she had licked her lips salaciously, that would've made the pictures so much better.

When he went through the hundreds of pictures later, setting them as a slide show, it was like watching a porno of himself and the most beautiful girl in the world having hot steamy sex.

The camera he used was a hybrid dual-format device that took both film and digital ultra-high-definition images at the same time, so once the camera ran out of film it continued to take pictures and stored them in a high-capacity flash memory card. Meanwhile, the video camera hidden on the shelf continued to record as well.

Every time the shutter clicked Emma was embroiled ever deeper in the old man's blackmail scheme.

Thomas was in heaven. At some point, the girl appeared to surrender and accept her fate.

She was initially hesitant to cooperate, but after he put her on her hands and knees on the mattress, knelt behind her, rested his fat belly on her slim back and ass, and placed the head of his cock at her entrance, she tossed her long hair aside and looked back at him with a look of almost insane lust and hate that screamed "FUCK ME YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

She squealed when he sank into her and pushed back to meet his thrusts while his fingers dug into her wide hips and pulled her back against him as he thrust his hips forward.

He angled her so the camera would capture every slimy inch of him as he penetrated her. She was so excited and enthusiastic that he had to hold her down or she would've bucked him off.

Even though he'd cum recently, the beautiful busty girl turned him on so much that it took him very little time before he was fully recharged and the urge to cum buzzed in his balls yet again.

He didn't hold back, he didn't hesitate... he reached under and gripped her big dangling tits, used them to pull her towards him and drove his fat hips forward hard, sinking inside her as deep as he could, sending spurt after spurt of his thick white semen into her depths yet again.

She moaned and writhed against him, pushing back and rotating her hips in jerky circles, grinding her clit against the old man's enormous hairy balls.

When they collapsed together onto the mattress, he hugged her tight against him, and then he turned her chin so he could kiss her with all the passion burning in his twisted perverted soul. Still in the throes of her orgasm, Emma kissed him back just as ardently, grinding her throbbing pussy against his still-pulsating cock.

Eventually, their orgasms ran their course and Thomas eventually pulled soft cock out of the girl's clasping pussy.

Emma groaned in disappointment, feeling empty and hollow without him inside her. As disgusting as he was, she enjoyed the feeling of fullness, of being complete and whole with his member inside her. She bit her tongue when she realized what she'd done.

The old man didn't seem to notice, he was too busy catching his breath. He got up after a few minutes and got dressed again.

"Get up," he commanded hoarsely. "It's time to clean up and go home."

She helped him put everything in the studio back in order. They took the pictures down, wiped everything down and put the place back to normal. He even forced her to scrub the nasty blood-smeared cum stains from the twin mattress before helping him secure it to the top of his beat-up old sedan.

Eventually, her slow-moving brain came to the conclusion that she'd been set up from the very beginning... and she was royally screwed.

Once back home in her room, she peeled off her clothes. She'd worn a pair of jeans and a beat-up old t-shirt. She considered throwing away her cum-soaked panties, but ended up tossing them in with the rest of her clothes.

She dropped them in the washing machine, started it, and then took a long hot shower. Afterwards, she lay in her bed wide awake, her breasts and her nether regions felt sore, throbbing with remembered pleasure.

She was exhausted but her body felt loose and relaxed. She felt strangely... sated, and in some strange way... complete.

There had to be something wrong with her.

How could her body betray her?

Why couldn't she forget how good it felt when the disgusting old man shot his nasty semen inside her?

She felt heat suffuse her nipples and loins at the thought and trembled with dread and lust at the possibility of getting impregnated by such a revolting human being.

She needed to get on birth control. She needed to figure out a way to schedule a visit with her doctor without her mom around.

She shivered at the remembered the feel of his scratchy beard against the tender skin of her face and the bumpy texture of his thick tongue in her mouth when he kissed her in the throes of an orgasm. She remembered his bristly shoulder hair tangled in her fingers and felt her nipples pucker and harden at the memory.

Only four more times and then she wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. That thought flitted through her head over and over, along with the remembered feeling of his lips suckling on her nipples, making her feel as if she was being turned inside out.

The same questions kept churning through her head. Should she tell her mom what happened? Should she call the police? Should she run away? She kept away from thoughts of harming herself. She'd never take that route, not ever. Should she tell her doctor what happened once she made an appointment? Or should she just have sex with the nasty old man four more times and not have to deal with any of the fallout she'd face if she told on him?

Maybe that was the best course to take.

Before tonight, she'd never had sex before, never kissed a boy, never even masturbated, and yet the most revolting human being she'd ever encountered had made her feel pleasure she never even knew possible.

She hated to admit that he'd been right when he said it wasn't so bad. She squirmed in her bed, turned on her side and pillowed her cheek with her hands.

She eventually drifted off to sleep an hour before her alarm was set to go off. That hour was filled with nightmare images of the bestial old man towering over her, thrusting his hard veiny cock into her, making her scream with horror and shame... overpowering pleasure coursed through her body as she came over and over again when his hard thick member pulsed inside her.

In her dreams, an out of focus blonde girl with a big pregnant belly watched from a few feet away.

She moaned and reached a hand out to her for help, her body shuddering in a series of nonstop orgasms as the old man's corpulent body bounced on top of her, but he girl just smiled a beautiful angelic smile.

She realized it was an image of herself.

The point of view changed in a dizzying blur and she knew she was now the pregnant girl watching with a smile on her face as the hideous old fat man fucked a version of her on a twin size mattress thrown haphazardly on the floor.

She opened her mouth to tell her "It wasn't really that bad was it?" in a man's deep gravelly voice, but all that came out was an irritating high-pitched buzz buzz buzz.

Emma opened her bleary eyes and groaned in frustration at the sound of her annoying alarm going off.

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Thomas was on top of the world.

He'd done it. He'd blackmailed the sexiest, most beautiful girl he'd ever seen into having sex with him. FUCK! He'd even popped her goddamn cherry! And there was a pretty good chance he'd knocked her up.

He'd even finagled a way to get her to have sex with him four more times... at least! He planned to have her as many times as he could and he had the ammunition to keep her quiet and coming back whenever he wanted.

Before this day, he'd convinced himself that his plan wouldn't work and now he sat in his recliner with a beer in his hand, his cock and balls aching from cumming so much and so hard inside the sweet young beauty.

He laughed out loud. He even made the stupid girl scrub their bodily fluids from the dirty mattress and help him clean the place up.

He took a sip of his beer and laughed again, delighted at the course of events.

He schemed and planned out their next encounter.

The thing was he didn't plan to just have sex with her. He really and truly wanted her to succeed, to get picked by a modeling agency or fashion magazine.

He edited, cropped and color-corrected her best dress and bikini shots then made three dozen large prints and put them in a fancy portfolio he would hand to his friend Bob when he had all the shots of her he needed. He even included the form that contained all her personal information.

His friend had only asked him to give out his cards but he figured it wouldn't hurt to give him the girl's pictures, especially since they came out so damn good. She looked incredible, a perfect mix of innocent and sensual, and he did a good job giving her guidance, posing and framing her.

He decided to do a "shoot" in different locations, with different clothes, the next four times they met and add those pictures to the portfolio.

He smiled widely... and she still had a debt to pay off.

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Emma was at school when her phone buzzed with a text.

It had been a miserable day. She woke up after less than an hour's sleep, groggy and aching from head to toe. She'd taken another long hot shower when she realized the revolting old man's scent lingered faintly on her skin.

Her inner thighs, breasts and nipples felt chafed and sore and her head ached and felt as if it were stuffed with cotton.

She was depressed and miserable... and the clothes she chose for school reflected her mood. She had on a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants, a baggy shapeless hoodie and a pair of slip on Vans with no socks. She wore no makeup and left her hair in a ragged ponytail.

It was her final year of high school but because she'd failed some of her classes in the past, she had to make them up this year in order to graduate.

She sat disconsolately in the back row of her English class, in the seat next to the exit, ready to bolt out the door as soon as the bell rang. She was in a roomful of freshmen and sophomores and didn't know a soul. She desperately wanted the day to end so she could go home, huddle under her blankets, go to sleep and hopefully wake up later from this nightmare.

The hum of her teacher's lecturing voice was a meaningless drone in the background. Chin resting on one slender palm, Emma absentmindedly doodled in her notebook with a short stubby pencil.

She didn't realize her teacher was close by until the middle-aged woman took the notebook from her desk, startling her from her mindless reverie.