Born Beautiful by magicwand

I was born beautiful, so don’t hate me.

Being beautiful was all I have ever known, it is who I am and everything I will be. I know most of you women are jealous of my perfect features, my flawless skin and hate my body which is desired by most of the male population.

I was born beautiful, which means being hated by women, especially my so called peers. Models and actresses that I work with all hate me because I am born beautiful not fined tuned by surgery. Those women that want to be my friend, desire to be around someone beautiful like me. I guess they think I make them more attractive.

I know you immediately think I am conceited, a braggart or just “full of herself”. What it is, its honesty and I need to tell you my story, the true story of Bridgett “Jet” Tarboe.

When I say I was born beautiful, I mean it literally. After just 20 days old my mother got me my first job, as a new born baby on a TV show. My mother knew I was going to beautiful the day she found out she was pregnant.

Her mother expected her to be beautiful also, they named my mother Estella. They expected her to be a star and have a “stella” career. My mother was good looking, as from the time she was a teenager she entered every pageant or fair that had a beauty contest. She won first place in a county fair when she was 14, but most of the larger beauty pageants she had to settle for second or third place. My mom talks about those days a lot while I was growing up. She told me how the other girls would either sabotage her or give sexual favors to the judges to win. She used to tell me that she had learned from mistakes in her own life to make sure my life would be perfect.

Did I mention my hair? Men are mistaken when they say it is blonde. It is such a perfect blonde that Rivlon and Sam Factors, the two largest cosmetic companies both tried to replicate my color calling it Jet Blonde. Jet is my nickname.

I have an older brother named Ian. I suspect that my mother was so disappointed that her first born was a son, that as soon as she was able, she tried for a second child, me. My mom devoted my life to me and she made sure my brother did the same. He was taught to care for me, to worship me, to make sure I would develop to be me. He went to regular, public schools while I went to the right private schools.

As my mother groomed me to be a star, as soon as I was born she groomed Ian to take care of me. In looking back, I can see why he might be resentful of me. Ian was less than a brother and more of an administrator to me. He always played second fiddle to my needs. When we were children, if there was only one scoop of ice cream left, of a flavor that he preferred over me, all I had to do is ask for it and mother would dish it out for me. She would say something to him like “now Ian, you know your sister can’t eat as much ice cream as you, she has to watch her weight; so indulge her.” In times like this he would storm off mad. It might have been then that I realized the power I had over him. I would take one lick of the spoon then dump the dish of ice cream in the sink. To me it was all about the power.

Don’t hate me. I was really more often nice to my brother than mean. I would buy him things and introduce him to girls. Because having power is more than making someone miserable, it’s how far you can push someone to a point and then bring them back into acquiescence with minimal effort. With real power people will always do what you want, just to make you happy.

My mother had placed Ian under my thumb but I learned from her how to keep all men that way. She did it with my father. My mother chose him because he was hard working and would do anything for her. Why wouldn’t he, she was way out of his league. When they met he was a senior vice president of a construction firm making a decent living. After I was born, my mother knew she would need more. She demanded he start his own business and she went out to get backing for him.

I have heard stories about her ways.

I look back now and I can honestly say I believe them. She seduced his co-workers, bankers, and even rivals to get his business up and running. I have heard people say that women using sex for gain makes them a whore. These people are what I call “outsiders.” The “insiders” know differently. The “outsiders” use sex for enjoyment, just as they use money to buy toys with, like driving a Porsche for fun. The “insiders” use sex for power. When an “insider” buys something like a Porsche it’s because his partner has a Corvette. If his partner has a Porsche then the “insider” buys a Ferrari. It’s always about the power.

My mother used her fine figure and her womanly wiles because sex brought power. My father enjoyed the success of his new construction company. It was much smaller than the corporation he worked for, but it was his own and he made more money. My father, Robert, worked long hours at keeping the company successful. After all, my mother insisted on it. My mother didn’t allow him to interfere much with me, to his credit, he knew his place in our family.

Don’t think I am cold.

I love my family. They have all given so much to me. But let me continue to my teen years. By the time I was 12 I was worldly. I knew I had power over men and women. I knew my life story as well as if it were already out on DVD. I would collect valentines from school as if they were worn socks; as soon as I got home they were in the trash. Why waste my time on childhood puppy love, when I knew I will be courted by Princes and Kings. I was already modeling and doing small TV spots but to me this was all just baby stuff.

I remember coming home from school one day and the look on my mother’s face, gleaming with radiance told me that something special had happened. The world famous designer, Kelvin Cline was considering using me for a new line of clothing. He wanted us to come to New York and do some shots. The famous French photographer Vida Goresson would be the photographer.

THE Vida Goresson, at the time he was considered in modeling to be GOD. He could make or break a person just with the click of his shutter.

My mother knew all about Kelvin Cline, she called him a closet pedophile. I didn’t know at the time what that meant. I knew he liked little girls like me. In fact, at the age of 12 my breast were quite developed and I even thought I might be too developed for his particular taste. I have seen his other ads in all the magazines. What interested me more was Vida Goresson. If he liked me, I knew he would be my ticket. My mother agreed, Vida was the person to impress. It was then I wished I had a boyfriend. If I had one, perhaps I would know how to do this sex thing. I wondered if Vida would be interested in a girl like me. I thought not, he was surrounded by adult models all the time. I had hoped he would find my mother attractive; perhaps she can work the sex thing on him.

Don’t hate me.

I was done with childhood at the age of 7 and now I was dealing with an awkward age in which my body was that of a woman, by my age was of a child. My mind? Well that hasn’t really changed at all. Then just as now I always knew what I wanted.

We went to New York. Daddy couldn’t come because of work. Mother and I invited Ian along on the adventure. Not that he was going to the studio or be involved, but someone had to carry our bags. This was a big day, I was not going to chance breaking nail or straining myself.

It was a game. I played the na? young teen with Vida all the while trying to seduce him with my body. Naturally my mother was there, I was a minor after all. He would ask me to step into the dressing room and change into shorts and a blouse. I would come out with the blouse clutched against my naked torso, just covering my nipples but allowing him to see how full and developed my breasts were from the side. I would act coy and ask “is this the right shirt?”

I knew when I struck a cord when he would cough and give a nervous glance to my mother. Vida was a man of 34. He was fit and his fame and confidence, made him more attractive than he was. He took hours of pictures of me. I seduced him with my eyes. Vida would tell me many years later that the look I gave him back then were as if I was ” the most experienced whore in the world.” I think that was the greatest compliment you can give a virgin.

The next day we went back to the studio, Vida and Mr. Cline was there. He shook my hand and offered a peck on the cheek to my mother. “Call me Kelvin.” He smiled and I could see him glancing about my body. When we looked at the photos sprawled on the large glass table, I stood right up against him, reaching across his body for a photograph, making sure my breast was firm against his arm. Occasionally, I would rub against him, squealing in delight when he said something nice about a picture. I could see through the glass table that his penis was stirring. I had a pretty good understanding on what this man liked.

Over the next two days, we all had dinner and discussed the photos. Kelvin would fatherly give me advice, which always seemed to entail a caress or hug. I pretended to not only act unaware, but to enjoy teasing him with my “unintentional” rubbing. To his credit, it never went any further than that. I am sure to this day he still masturbates thinking about how he would have deflowered me. But he was too successful and astute of a businessman to fall into that. Perhaps he just used his imagination or perhaps when he was off in one of those third world countries checking on his factories, he would find himself a young girl and pretend it was me.

Needless to tell you all, I was signed. You’ve seen my ads from billboards to magazines. They created quite a controversy with that ad, all of the religious uproar made millions in sales. The ad featured a really sexy side shot of me. The photo of me stopped just above my ass crack, my arms clutching the blouse against my breast with the slogan “If I can’t wear KC, why wear anything?”

I really don’t think the controversy over the picture was that a 12 year old was nearly nude, no. It was my face. My seductive pouting lips and my eyes, the photo said “I want to fuck you and you want to fuck me, but you can’t because I am just 12.” What that ad was, was a cruel joke to play on men, when they all saw it they wanted me … until they found out how old I was, then they felt ashamed. That was my power.

Vida and I teamed up with Kelvin Cline ads for the next two years. I did many other ads, my mother moved us all to New York, which meant father had to fly back and forth from Manhattan to Chicago all the time. My mother and I did lots of interviews. We played up the fact that I was na? and pure and had no clue on what my body did to men. When asked about boyfriends we would tell the press that I was to involved in school, acting classes and modeling to have any friends. Oh how the press loved to hear that. People actually felt bad for me. No one hated me then. My mother and I were master manipulators and we knew how to work the power. Ian hated to leave his friends behind; he even had a girl friend back in Chicago. I reminded him that he would even have met his girl friend if it weren’t for me. I promised to introduce to other girls, more beautiful. Of course he whined, but he really didn’t have a choice. We needed him here. Mother told him it was about time he learned the business so that he would be able to take care of things. After all, if you can’t trust family, who can you trust?

He had to make sure my dietary needs were in order, the staff was paid accurately, and all our appointments were kept. It was a big responsibility for a 16 year old and you think Ian would have appreciated the trust we put on him.

I wanted more than just being “the KC girl.” I was 14 now and it was just a matter of time when Kelvin would find younger girl to fill his fantasies. I needed a manager. My mother did a good job, but I had to face it, she brought me along as far as she could. It would take more than her giving a blow job to the director of a commercial to get me that close up shot now.

It would take someone entrenched in the business to maneuver my career. I met many such people in the fashion business, but I knew only one could do it well. Vida.

Would Vida give up his status of being top dog in the world of fashion photography to being my manager? Maybe if I offered him something he wanted or needed. Did I have the power to do that? Of course I did. You knew it was a rhetorical question right?

One evening I called Vida and told him I needed to see him, it was very important. His apartment was also his studio. For Manhattan it was luxurious. It was on the 35th floor and 3000 sq ft of studio space with windows on one wall that opened up to the entire city.

Adjacent to this large studio space was a kitchen, laundry room, bathroom, closets and guest bedroom. Upstairs was a loft that over looked the studio; this loft contained the only non-white walls. These three walls painted in earth tones of brown, orange and yellow were his master bedroom and bath. I had seen it only from the studio floor. He never allowed anyone to go upstairs, at least as far as I ever witnessed.

Vida and I sat on the couch in the studio with only the lights of the city flooding the room. I told him I wanted him to manage me and my career. At first he shrugged it off like it was some teenager’s whim. But as I spoke he knew I was speaking like a professional, no emotion and just business sense.

“Besides leaving my own career aside, what’s in it for me?”

“Vida darling, if you still have time after taking care of my career you can still take your pictures of wannabe models. I am offering three things. First is the opportunity for a new ambitious career as my manager. Secondly, to become wealthy doing so, 15% of everything I make. I am talking, movie contracts, product lines, TV rights, the full monty.”

Vida no longer had his amused look on his face. It was a serious business look that I have seen lawyer have. There was a short silence as I waited for him to ask the next obvious question.

“And what is the third thing?”

“Why I am surprised you have to ask.”

I stood up from the couch and moved in front of him. With a practiced move I deftly slipped out of my dress and stood before him in my sexiest lace bra and thong. The body lotion glistened on my perfect hard body.

“So, Bridgett, you think I throw away my career to sleep with a teenybopper?”

“No Vida. You move to a new career for the fame and money. I don’t want to sleep with you.”

“You don’t?” He swallowed hard. My power was working on him. I studied his pupils as they widened, the small bead of sweat forming just above the hairline near the right ear. I noticed the small hairs on his neck tell me that I have won.

“No Vida, I want you to be my manager and my teacher. How can I act sexy? How can I be expected to be sexy if I don’t know anything about sex? I need you to be my teacher, my instructor for as long as it takes. You need to be my master.”

I inched closer to him with my head tilted down at my feet. I knew the word “master” would get to him. As if I would let anyone be the master of me. This was my power. To find out what bends your opponent and use it to your advantage.

“Cheri, you are just a…”

“Don’t say child. A child trapped in a woman’s body. A Child that makes over one million dollars a year. I am so much more that a child or a billboard. You can make me a woman. Teach me all the things in the one mysterious world left to me.”

I then sat on his lap; my head nestled into his neck and my right arm around his shoulder. A moment of silence then I turned my face toward him, my lips a breath away from his. He moved in to brush his lips with mine, then the kiss, and the feel of his tongue on the roof of my mouth. What an electrifying feeling, not the kiss, I had power over this 38 year old man. That everything he worked his entire life for was now thrown away for me.

To his credit, he did not give in and ravish me on the couch. We kissed; he caressed my perfect firm breasts and even stoked my pussy through the thin laced panties. I thought for sure he would strip me down. Was I prepared to do it then? Sure. Why not? Sex is power and that is the only reason for it. I am an “insider” don’t forget that.

You reading this may not believe me, but I never masturbated or had sexual fantasies. I dream what it would be like to win an Oscar, planned the steps to get me there. I bet more actresses and models think like I do than do not.

I was lying on the couch when he abruptly stood. Vida reached out his hand and pulled me up from the couch while picking up my dress. He gently handed it to me and cupped my face in his hands as he spoke in nearly a whisper.

“If I am going to be your manager and your instructor, there will be a proper time. Not a quick throw on the couch and send you home. I want to do it right.”

“Then you agree to manage me?”

“Yes. Cheri, you and I will conquer the world. I will have my lawyers send you the papers. Then I will teach you in the ways of love.”

“No need Vida, I had my lawyer send your lawyers the papers late this afternoon. See you later my professor.”

I then blew him a kiss and left the studio for home. Ian was waiting in the car down stairs. It was only 20 minutes, I told him it would be a half hour so I really don’t know why he was pissed off at me. If anything he owed me 10 minutes but we drove back to our brownstone in silence.

The next six months were very busy for me indeed. Besides acting lessons, Vida hired a voice coach for me and a personal trainer. Since I was blessed with a perfect figure, the trainer had an easy job, just working off the occasional chocolate indulgence. Vida had all the best designers in the world create outfits for me.

I was no longer the KC girl. I was Versace, Prada, Gautier and all of them. They all vied to me model for them. Vida was very busy reading movie scripts, dozens of them sent to him and he was so picky. Then there was the big night of my instruction.

Vida had planned everything. We were going to Los Angeles to meet with executives at Paramount. Vida insisted that my mother and Ian come along. I told my mother it was best just Vida and I met with the executives. Once something was more firm, her arrival would mean something. Of course it was just a ploy. It didn’t need to be an intricate one, my mother understands power and she knew if I wanted something, I had the power.

We had separate suites at the Beverly Hills Hotel. It was really cute the way Vida fussed about trying to make everything so perfect. He had candles, soft music and champagne. Being a model in New York, champagne is like bottled water. No one every says “you’re too young”, it would be like telling someone they are unsophisticated. When he finally knocked on the joining door I opened it wearing my sexiest shear teddy. We kissed, we mauled each other and then he swept me up in his arms and carried me to the king sized bed.

It sounds so romantic doesn’t it? He went out of his way to make it so. I am sure he really thought I had a crush on him or was madly in love with him. He was so gentle so conscious as if walking on cracked ice. But the only ice was my nerves. I was not scared, or in love or trembling in anticipation. I was fulfilling a contract negotiation.

Don’t hate me. This is business. Vida was my manager and doing a terrific job. I really did need to learn this sex stuff; it might as well be from Vida. If he hurts me, he hurts himself. My image was the sexy but na? virgin. I couldn’t just have sex with a male model, who even if I could find a straight one, would blab it to the first tabloid just to knock me down a notch. Logically, Vida was the only choice. Besides, it was contractual.

He removed my teddy and stared at my naked body.

“Cheri, you are magnificent.”

“I know.” I whispered and I don’t think he even heard me; he was kissing my nipples then my navel and worked his way down. From all the stories I have heard, and trust me, in the dressing rooms of some of these fashion shows these models can be quite graphic, I was expecting electricity. I felt something, mostly uncomfortable. No sparks or fireworks. I think now these women were just exaggerating or putting me on. He licked me and it felt, okay.

I know he had a reputation of being with lots of women, but maybe he really didn’t know how to do it well. I once saw Giselle in Milan with a young man; they were off stage hours after the show. I ran back to get something I left behind and stood behind the scenery watching them. The man was doing to Giselle what Vida was doing to me. Giselle was groaning and moving about like she was really enjoying it. I thought maybe this is what is expected. So I imitated Giselle. I moaned and rubbed his head. I moved my ass and pushed my pussy into his flickering tongue. He looked up with a smile on his face and continued. I then realized how good an actress I really was.

He finally stopped. I let out a big sigh. I think he thought it was a sigh of release; in fact it was a sigh that he finally finished. But that was just the warm up. He inched up toward my face.

“If you thought that was good, now is the main course. I have thought about this moment since I first met you.”

“Me too,” I lied. I actually just wanted to get this over with.

He put on a condom over his penis. I withheld my laughter, and just smiled. I thought it looked funny wrapped in that plastic tube. Vida must have mistaken my smile for one of anticipation.

He was propped up on one arm over me and I was able to glance passed my wonderful firm breasts, tight abdomen and see his erect penis resting on my where my pubic hair would be if I had any. Naturally I shave often, just because I am always being photographed in something tight or a thong. I watched as he grasped his penis with his right hand and placed it at the entrance of my pussy. I wondered briefly if the entire penis goes in. Like I stated, I never masturbated so I really didn’t know how deep it goes. I felt his eyes upon me and looked up. He was smiling and kissed me, saying something like “I’ll be gentle.” I was then wondering, would this sex thing be really everything that it is supposed to be?

I was looking at him when he leaned in to kiss me and I felt the pressure in my pussy. He maneuvered his thing in and out of me several times, each time I could feel it getting deeper. A thought then dawned on for me, “what was I going to wear tomorrow?” I started thinking about my wardrobe, then pain.

“What the fuck, oww.”

“its okay mon cheri, it will soon feel wonderful.”

I realized that the pain was my cherry being popped. Vida now started grunting and moving faster. I too started grunting. I listened to the sounds I was making, I did not like them. I thought they needed to be sultrier. He was kissing my neck and my nipples while continuing his thrusts. His face then went red and he arched his back and shuddered. He then looked down at me and I kissed him. He rolled over and I cuddled next to him.

“Thank you, Vida.”

“Mon cheri, the pleasure was all mine.”

And I thought to myself, “Yes it was.”

So don’t hate me.

I just don’t get the sex thing. Vida showed me many ways to have sex, the positions, and instructing me on how to move. I did it all, but to me it’s just exercise. Vida talks about the orgasm, but I don’t think I ever had one. Maybe I can’t have one, maybe I have had them but it does nothing to me. There is a part of sex that I really do enjoy; I love the power it gives me. I love making men whimper and beg. I love getting them hard, stroking their cock, I even love sucking their cock. When I have a man’s cock in my mouth, I feel like I control them fully.

After Vida taught me, I became curious about other men. I wondered if they were all the same. I love to flirt with them, especially older men that feel guilty when their eyes stare at my firm breasts or ass. I love catching them looking at me and then giving them a knowing smile. I like the flustering look and redness in the cheeks of their face as they cough and look quickly away.

Of course in Hollywood many of these producers and directors are used to this type of behavior. Many of them wouldn’t even a give an actress a chance if they wouldn’t fuck them, no matter how old they were. Vida liked the script for this one movie called Lie Truthfully. I was playing a small supporting role, but since it was a major big budget movie, it would be perfect for my first.

Vida warned me about the director and how things are done in Hollywood. He was being protective. It was then that I thought perhaps he was falling in love with me. It really was so sad. I told him that I no longer wanted to have sex with him. That he had taught me enough and that he needed to focus on business. Besides, I called my family and told them to come to Hollywood. I have decided to move out here.

Believe it or not, they insisted that I audition for the role. I had Vida drop me off at the studio, but I insisted that he go with the real estate agent and line up some homes for me to look at. They were all very nice, treating me like a kid. Then I hit the makeup room.

This is my element. I was to play the teenage daughter to mister action hero, Artie Tezenager. He and actress Jenny Kurtz were to play my parents who are actually spies. They were not there for the audition, but Jack Kameron the director was. I walked out from make up and went right up to him and shook his hand. I then met the producers and other executives. I turned and walked to my spot, I know they were all watching my ass and how my hips sway. After the audition Jack came into the makeup room where I was getting my make up off.

He told me I got the role and I leaped off the chair and gave him a tight hug. I know how to “innocently” rub against a man. He gently tapped my back in the nervous way that men do. At first it used to amaze me that grown up men would want to have sex with a little girl like me. But then I realized that my power affected everyone.

“Achem, how old are you again?” He asked in that nervous humor.

“How old do you want me to be? I am an actress after all. I can play many roles.”

I could tell he was uncomfortable but he wanted me, they all do.

“Ha. You already have the part.”

“Yes, and now we have many months working together.”

Working on the movie was a lot more work that I thought it would be. I would sometimes bring Ian with me and introduce him to some of the girls. As long as he was getting laid he seemed happy and didn’t mind doing my chores or run me around.

Mark was one of the producers in the movie. He was having a party at his house and I showed up with my mom and Vida. Mark’s mansion was amazing. He was on his third wife who was about the same age as my mom. Mark introduced me to some teen actors, at the party. They were bores. They talk about things that don’t matter. They are just clueless to the world. I grabbed Mark and asked him to show me around the place. I walked arm in arm with him as he talked about the house and we were far from the party as we walked into his garage. There were six assorted cars, all of them expensive and looking like a showroom.

I leaned back against a silver convertible. “Oh, I just love this one.”

“That is an Austin Martin DB9, it just arrived from England.”

I can tell Mark was taking in my entire figure and it was making him uncomfortable for a 50 plus year old guy.

“Do you even have a driver license Ms. Tarboe?”

I giggled, “not yet.” I walked over to him “Mark, please call me Bridgette or Jet, that’s what my mom and dad call me, especially when I am naughty.”

“And how often are you naughty?”

“Depends, how about you?” I then put my arms around his neck and kissed him.

At first he was passive but soon he was opening his mouth and I felt his hands along my hips then around my ass. I slipped my arms down from his neck and held them against his chest. I whispered in his ear.

“I like you Mark, you’re a real man, not a boy. I need a man.”

“But Jet, you are so young … I … am no pedophile.”

He was trying to convince himself, but his body and mind lied. I kissed him some more. His hands still caressed my ass and I could feel is penis stiffening in his pants. I took one of his hands and placed it on my tits. I then rubbed his cock through his pants with my hand.

“I can’t believe this.”

I then pulled down his zipper and pulled out his cock.

“I heard you have a big deal with Dezniy for a movie series about a girl like me.”

I thought he might push me away when I said that, but putting his cock in my mouth and sucking it made him only groan. He totally surrendered to my power. He played with my tits as I sucked on his cock. I undid his belt and lowered his pants and boxes. I cupped his balls in my hand as I continued to suck it. It seemed a bit thicker than Vida’s cock. I wondered if all cocks were different.

I stopped and looked up at him.

“Did you know I can sing?”

“I uh I uh no I didn’t.”

He was breathing heavy and Vida taught me pace was important. I didn’t want him to cum too quickly. We still had business to do.

“Well I can, that’s why I would be perfect for the role of Shannon Dakota.”

I then swirled my tongue around his cock and sucked it deep into the back of my throat. I continued sucking him and could feel his knees slightly buckling. I stood up and stroked his cock with my hand while smiling at him.

“I would like to work more with you. Don’t you think it would be fun? Wait till you see me naked.” And then his cum splashed my hands.

Of course he wanted more of me, who wouldn’t.

I was everything Dezniy wanted, young, beautiful and virginal, by reputation. Naturally, the executives at Dezniy had their own empire to protect. Besides the amusement parks, they had one of the largest studios and children oriented business in the world. The Dezniy execs were concerned that maybe I was too sexy, but Mark argued for me and of course the role was mine.

Being idolized by thousands of little girls I also found I needed some diversion. But I wanted to keep my little innocent girl reputation intact. I enjoyed going on tour and performing live in front of all these screaming girls. It also gave me a chance to get out of L.A.

The problem is being able to exhibit my power over men without ruining my reputation. The power over men, just by having sex is was intoxicating. Having sex with some Dezniy studio executives was easy, because they had just as much to lose if my reputation was dirtied as much as me.

With a professional Hollywood wig (black) and my remarkable make up to make me look older, all I needed were cheap clothes and no one would recognize me. I also had the idea to avoid the typical night spots that paparazzi or celebs would hang out. But would I truly be unrecognizable? I had one of the prop guys at the studio make me a fake ID, it only cost me some flirting and an autograph picture.

I had an out of town concert to perform in San Francisco at the Cow Palace Saturday night and I convinced Roger, the tour manager to have us drive up Thursday in the tour bus. That would give me Friday night to tryout my idea. Dad was flying in from Chicago Friday so mom was going to attend. Ian was going to make sure everything I needed was going to be attended to. I watched him on the bus and I had an evil idea. I knew I could have any man I wanted, but was that really true. I wondered why Ian put up with my shit, if he was around just for the money. I wondered what kind of power I had over him. I wondered if I could fool him in my disguise.

I found out Ian and some of the band was going to a small club in the area. I put on my disguise and took a taxi out there. I would try to disguise my figure, but it was difficult, even with baggy clothes every guy turned to check me out. The club was dark and packed. I saw Ian and the sound guy at the bar having a drink and checking out the girls. I chose a place directly across from them about half the room away. I swayed gently to the music and nursed my margarita. Naturally I attracted a lot of attention and several guys approached me but I just turned them away. Some of the guys were obviously good looking and used to having women indulge them. They think they have power, but a woman in the know can just twist them till they are on their knees.

I walked over to Ian and stretched out my hand looking toward the dance floor. The sound guy jabbed at him to go with me. I took his hand and he followed me to the dance floor. As long as I don’t look directly into his eyes I felt I had a chance to fool him. We danced and I would grind against him in a very suggestive way, I am sure every guy watching us got a hard on, as did Ian. He had his hands on my hips, my ass, my back, my tummy, everywhere. About three songs had gone by and I put my arms around his neck and leaned into his ear.

“Do I turn you on?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I guess you wanna fuck me?” I nibbled at his ear; he still had not gotten a real good look at my face even.

“Oh yeah.”

“What? You would fuck your sister?”

I held him at arm’s length and he got a good look at my face. His eyes went wide with horror as I laughed at him.

“All you men are so pathetic. Go take that stiff dick and find yourself one of these whores.” I then turned and left the club.

I made my point, all men are subjected to me, I had the power over men even my own brother. I took a taxi back to the hotel. I was in my room and undressed wrapping a towel around me. I looked in the mirror at myself in the black wig and make up. I heard the door to the suite open and slam shut. I walked out and Ian was standing there fuming at me.

“You bitch. You fucking slut.”

“Oh chill, I was just having a little fun.” I never saw him this angry before, I actually thought he might hit me. It was time for me to use my power. I smiled and turned up my puppy eyes look.

“Oh Ian, I was just trying to have some fun, I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand, I will make it up to, really.”

He rushed toward me yelling “bitch” and pulled the wig off my head, in doing so the towel slipped off me. The look on his face changed. I smiled and turned my back feeling I had subdued him with just a glance of my perfect body.

“Brother dear, please get me my towel, I’ll wash this off and we’ll get a late dinner.”

But before I even got my last word out he knocked me down with a blow and I fell half way on the bed. I tried to get up but he held me down with his left arm in the middle of my back pinning me to the bed with ass hanging off the bed. I screamed for him to let me up.

“You fucking bitch, this is what you really want isn’t it you slut?”

For the moment I didn’t know what he was talking about and then with his other hand if felt him shove his fingers in my pussy.

“Ian, no!”

I screamed. But his fingers left and I felt his cock enter my pussy. He thrust hard into me with long mean full strokes. He was fucking me fast and hard and now both hands of his were on my hips and my face was in the mattress. With both hands on my hips, I could have probably twisted my body away and kicked him in the balls, but I got to thinking about what he was doing. He was fucking me, he probably always wanted to fuck me but couldn’t because I am his sister.

I knew all men desired me, now I knew it extended even to family. He used this anger toward me as an excuse to fuck me.

He shoved his cock deep into me and held it there as he grunted and his cum filled inside me. He pulled out and staggered backward. I pulled myself off the bed and without even turning around to look at him I headed toward the bathroom.

“If you’re finished raping me, I think I’ll take off this make up and take a shower now.”

I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Turning to the mirror I smiled at myself thinking that all men are so pathetic. I knew Ian would now crawl back to his room with his tail (or cock) between his legs and fell guilty about what he did. He will in turn try to make it up to me for the rest of his life.

That episode proved a lot to me. First, the disguise worked, and I can have any man I wanted.

As I predicted, Ian was ashamed he never mentioned it to me. On my part I pretended it never happened but I was even more demanding of him and he said nothing but agreed with me.

So any opportunity on tour I would don the disguise and I would have Ian drive me to some spots. I would make him wait hours for me if necessary. I even enjoyed it knowing he was waiting outside for me while I was having sex.

I would always get hit on by young guys in their 20’s or younger. But it was only good for me to pick out the guy. I needed to choose who I was going to seduce. The more they said no, the better I liked it. Needless to say, I was never turned down, nor was I ever recognized. I enjoyed the conquest, but still the sex meant nothing to me. I never had an orgasm or enjoyed the fucking in my pussy or in my mouth or even in my ass.

What turned me on was seducing these men. I realized I could have any man I wanted turned me on.

Married men were a good choice because it was more of a challenge.

Once I even seduced a cop on the street while he was working. Imagine what he would think if he found out the girl he was fucking doggy style behind the Starbucks was only 15 years old. Imagine what they would all think if they knew they had actually fucked Bridget Tarboe, movie star and Dezniy icon.

For the next couple of years my life remained pretty much the same, doing Shannon Dakota movies such as the High School Prom series, the Shannon Dakota concerts and TV series. The press never caught on about my secret sex life. Sure, every now and then one of the tabloids would print a rumor about me and a secret boyfriend, usually another actor. Once there was an internet youtube thing about a secret sex tape, but so called sex tape was so grainy and dark, it could have been anyone. Anyone without a perfect body, it was so not me. The internet was filled with all sorts of rumors, but even if some of them were actually true, no one could prove it and no one really believed it.

Vida did a great job with my career and was totally understanding about my lifestyle. Hell, it was Vida who was able to get me birth control pills and contraceptives. I thought he was the perfect manager until he told me one night that he wanted to marry me.

You could have knocked me over with a feather. He told me he didn’t care about how many men I had sex with; he said he could fill that need.

He wanted our partnership to last a lifetime. I reminded him I was only 17, but he said it would take a year just to prepare for the perfect wedding. He had even asked my parents and they encouraged it.

I thought about what he had said. The first thing I considered was that if I said no, Vida would probably quit. Then I would have to find another agent, someone I could trust. If I said yes, I would lose that little girl image. The thing was, I was going to lose that image anyway. I was tired of the Dezniy roles; I would never win an Oscar doing them. It was time I moved up to the adult world. So, I made the right business decision.

Vida and I were married one month after my 18th birthday. It wasn’t a surprise to a lot of people, since every major premier or award show I went with Vida as my escort. Although most fans just thought he was my manager and I was too young, the media assumed we would hook up eventually. I officially gave Ian the title of being my agent. I got him an office in Hollywood, a staff of agents and employees. Starboe Talent Agency was then born.

Things were going well, I did a couple of big movies and for the academy awards I was asked to be a presenter. It was an awesome night for me. Looking out over at a dozen studio executives whom I have had sex with and young stud actors who were dying to have sex with me. I felt truly wanted and part of Hollywood.

Vida had told me about a great script called Losing Translations. The lead actor Murray Williams was already cast and I heard I was up for the lead. Ian called me and told me that the director and producers had already chosen another actress, Scarlett Johnson as the lead. I was pissed and called Ian to pick me up at the house. I had him drive me out with my black wig and disguise and found myself to older men and had a threesome. It was my first time with two men. Sucking one while be fucked from behind, I felt like a conquering warrior. I left them panting and passed out.

Ian waited outside the hotel for me and we didn’t say a word the entire time back to my house. Halfway back to my house I told him to pull over to the side of the road. I had an urge to brag about my night. I told him that I was with two men at the same time. All the while I told him the details I unzipped his pants, took out his cock and tongued the tip of his cock and sucked it into my mouth. He didn’t say a word or put up any resistance, he leaned back in the BMW enjoyed my sucking. As I sucked my brother’s cock I thought how easy it was to subvert his morals just for some sexual release. I felt his hand reach around my back and fondle my tit, the fact he so desired me made me suck him intensely and soon his sperm filled my mouth. I reached for a tissue to dab my mouth and Ian wordlessly zipped himself up and put the car back on the road toward my house. Not a word was spoken between us the way back, which didn’t bother me. I just lay back in the seat with a smile on my face.

Several months later Scarlett Johnson was nominated for the academy award for her role in Losing Translations. The role that should have been mine! That was bad. I was upset. Okay, that is an understatement, I went into a rampage a broke a few things in the house. Vida had to hold me down. But that was nothing compared to how I felt when I found out that Ian was Scarlett’s agent and he got her the part. She fucked him and Ian got her the part. He could have had me, hell he had me and he still gave the part to her. Obviously he did it to spite me. Now I was sorry I let him fuck me and to think I gave him a blow job.

At first I headed toward my car to go over to his condo and wreck his place instead of mine. But then that would only be temporary satisfaction. No, instead I called my lawyer and bought out the rest of Starboe Talent. At the Golden Globes I saw him at the red carpet and gave him a great big kiss on the lips. I whispered to him that he was fired.

The next day it was all over the tabloids and the internet. Everyone was speculating that we were incestuous. Naturally we both denied the rumors. But I thought it was really funny. I told Entertainment Hollywood that it was because he was pushing for me to do a reality TV show based on my marriage with Vida and it became a point of contention.

My mom was angry with me that I fired Ian, but when I placed her in charge of the agency, she softened up. She finally told Ian it was time for him to strike out on his own and stop hanging on to my coat tails. When I heard that, I couldn’t stop laughing.

Vida was annoyed with me as well. He didn’t like the way I treated Ian. He didn’t like the way I disappeared several nights a week. He didn’t like the infrequent times we had sex. But I think the final straw was that he wanted to direct me in my next film. The producers were dying to have me and they were negotiating with Vida. Vida then agreed to have me do the film if he could direct it. They offered him the title of executive producer. Everyone knows that the executive producer title means either you put up most of the money for the film, screwing the actress or both. Vida had been the executive producer on my last film, having fulfilled both those obligations. Eventually the producers agreed, I however refused to have him fuck up the film. We fought and I kicked him out of the house.

A month later we divorced. It was major Hollywood news. I needed a movie to get away from it all and took a stupid film based on a video game or comic of some kind. It wasn’t Oscar material but it was being filmed in Hungary which was far enough away from California. I continued my “black wig ways” which should have been a lot easier in Hungary but the paparazzi was all over trying to find out what I was up to.

Surprisingly to me the film was a huge blockbuster. Although not critically acclaimed, the role made me the major star in Hollywood. It was then I realized that as a divorced woman and star I no longer needed to worry about my reputation that much.

I hit the nightlife and went out with all the stars that have been after me for years. I went out with Lenard Decaprizo, Juke Law, Mike Damiens and Josh Laketimbers. I made the front page of every tabloid for months and soon learned to embrace the paparazzi. The tabloids thought I was out of control with my nightly partying.

One night hotel heiress Rome Marriot and fellow actress Linda Highhan and I went out partying. Every paparazzi in a 200 mile radius must have followed us from bar to bar. I have met these girls before at parties at Benny Aflets house and some other events. Everything I heard about them was true. Rome was such a slut; I actually watched her give the waiter a blow job at our table for a tip. Linda was no nun either, every place we went she would grab some guy off the dance floor and bring him to some out of the way corner and fuck him in the shadows. Somewhere along the way she lost her panties and naturally the shot of her getting out of the car made all the tabloids and internet.

One day my dad dropped in on me unexpected. He showed up in my Malibu home at nine in the evening. My housekeeper let him in while Rome and I were getting dressed for a party.

Ever the proper gentleman, my father rose from the couch as I came down the stairs. I can tell from the uncomfortable way he looked at me that he did not approve of my outfit for the evening. Rome followed me down the stairs as I gave my father a peck on the cheek.

“Oh dad, this is my friend Rome.”

Rome sauntered over to my dad and gave him a hug. My father cleared his voice and made an uncomfortable cough. Rome twirled around and winked at me and whispered into my ear.

“You’re dads hot. I’d like to fuck him.”

I giggled. I looked at my father. He was wearing tight blue jeans and a white long sleeve shirt that was buttoned to his well built chest. He was still blushed from Rome’s hug. My housekeeper brought us all a class of champagne and we toasted. My father took a seat across from both of us on the couch.

“So you two going to a costume party tonight?”

Rome and I giggled. I know Rome thought he was probably making a sly joke, but I knew my father was probably serious. All these years he has been na? to the model and acting business. Perhaps his small town boyhood suppressed this wild lifestyle and that is why he devoted his life to just his work.

“No dad, we are going to a party tonight … this is what people wear.”

Rome crossed her legs. With her tight short dress, I knew she was purposely giving my father a view that she was not wearing panties. My father’s eyes drawn to Rome’s shaved beaver quickly darted back to my eyes and his cheeks again filled with blush. Another class of champagne was poured and he gulped it down.

Rome was enjoying teasing him, crossing her legs, licking her lips, sucking on her finger tip. My father grunted and got up from the couch and faced the ocean.

“Jet, I came here to talk to you about all this nonsense in the papers. I don’t like the implication that you have turned into some kind of … er … floozie.”

Floozie?

How many years ago did they use that word?

“Dad, do you mean slut?” I asked, barely able to control my giggling.

“Ever since your divorce, the papers are portraying you as some kind of … sex fiend.”

“Jet, I think your dad is calling you a slut. I guess he thinks I am one too? Do you daddy?”

Rome laughed as she called him daddy, and stood up blowing him a kiss. She walked out of the room, I thought to go to the bathroom. I must admit watching Rome blazingly teasing my dad was making me hot. I thought how easy it was for women like Rome and I to dominate men with our power.

Looking at my father from behind, his broad shoulders and tight buns, I wondered if I had the power over him. If I could dominate him like I controlled my brother and any other man I met.

I put my arms around him from behind and leaned my head on his shoulders.

“Dad, don’t believe what the tabloids write. They sell papers by exaggerating the most simple things. Sure I am going through a phase now. I figured I was married too young, I led such a sheltered life, I never did much dating. So I am just dating a little.”

I turned my dad around and held him at arms length.

“Honey, it’s just that I worry…”

“Dad, no need. You know Ian looks out for me. Besides, in Hollywood this is what we do to schmooze and party so that we get the right scripts. Yeah, some of the parties are wild compared to your home town, but this is how business gets done here.”

Rome walked up on us holding out a glass of champagne to my dad and I.

“She’s right daddy.” Rome giggled. “Here, let’s have a toast to the rotten tabloids.”

My father balked about having another glass but Rome insisted and he finished it in a few sips.

“You know what Jet? We should take daddy here with us tonight, to the party. We don’t have any escorts, he would be perfect.”

My father shook his head and blushed as Rome took her arm under his. At first I was shocked she would suggest such a thing. We were going to director Bret Ratkers house. His parties had the reputation of being one of turning into the wildest orgies in Hollywood. Rome looked at me pulling her chin up high and stared at me as if a dare. I knew what she was thinking. Did I have the power over any man, could I really be the queen or was I just a pretender. I smiled back.

“Dad, that is a wonderful idea, then you will see for yourself what goes on.”

I stared at Rome back with a look that said, ‘challenge accepted.’

You think I am a bitch.

Perhaps I am.

By now you understand me. It is not my fault I was born beautiful. The world I was brought into turned me this way. It is adapt or be trampled. You know I will never relinquish the power. It is all just a game to see how powerful I am.

As we left for the car Rome whispered to me that she had left to fetch the champagne and she spiked all three with ecstasy. I laughed, no she had made it too easy.

Bret Ratkers is a short, chubby, man in his forties. The fact that he is one of the most successful directors in Hollywood, makes him very attractive to wannabe actors and actresses. He also attracts the best script writers and producers because of this harem of starlets that hang out at his mansion 24/7. When Bret throws an “official” party, it is one of the biggest events. Reporters can’t get within 1000 yards of his property and he hires tons of security. This allows the famous to come and do whatever they please, without out any fear there will be a hint of an allegation.

Anything goes at these parties, which usually turn into a huge orgy. I have seen the macho action hero playing with a young boy and cougar actresses that spend most of their time touting poor orphans in Africa being double teamed by young studs on the pool table.

The party was in full swing, anyone who is anyone in Hollywood was here, even my brother Ian. As I made the rounds, dad was in the care of Rome. She was making sure he had a refilled drink in his hand at all times. Ian came up to me demanding why I brought dad here. I grabbed his hand and pulled him into a side hallway. I pushed him against the wall and leaned into his body.

“Brother dear. Don’t you ever talk to me in that tone. You enjoy yourself, forget about dad.”

I reached with my hand to stroke his cock.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe later we can have some nasty brother sister fun.”

He stood still and quiet as he let me stroke him through his pants. He closed his eyes and I kissed his chin and walked away, leaving him with a hard on. I love the power.

In the great room of the home, most of the guests were now either nude or in skimpy underwear. I noticed my dad in the corner, his jeans were at his ankles and Rome was riding his cock. I felt hands from behind grab my tits. It was Bret.

“Jet, I’ve been holding my first cum of the day for you. Why are you still dressed?’

I turned and kissed him and held his chubby cheeks in my hand.

“Now Bret darling, I find that very hard to believe, it’s nearly midnight and you haven’t cum yet?”

“Jet, it’s two minutes passed midnight, so yes, it’s a new day and I haven’t cum yet today.”

We laughed and he helped me out of my clothes. All I had on were my black silk crotch less pantyhose and a see through black silk bra. No doubt, everyman in mansion got an instant hard on when they saw my perfect body.

“We are playing a new game out by the pool, come with me.”

Out of the pool were long buffet tables with white cloths. Most of the women were naked and laying back on the table with their pussies exposed at the edge. Men holding Dom Perigon champagne stood over their hanging head with their dicks in the women’s mouths. I took my place near the center of the table. The Asian actor, Jonny Cheng, took his place behind me. I sucked on his dick as he poured the champagne into my pussy.

The rest of the men all lined up and each took a turn licking each of the pussies laid out before them. As one stopped, another took moved down and took his place.

The champagne kept pouring into the pussies as the men lapped it up. I felt Jonny cum into my mouth. I looked up my father was licking the actress Zelma Blare, who was lying next to me. This meant my father was next. I leaned my head back and felt the man licking me move to my left. A small rush of cool air and then I felt a warm tongue dancing around my clit. The champagne poured into my pussy. I lifted my head to look up and saw my father eating me out. For the first time in my life I felt like I was going to have an orgasm.

About eight men later I saw it was my brother’s turn. I leaned my head back, sucked another cock and finally all the men had their turn, licking all the females. Now it was the men’s turn. The men laid on the table and the women formed a line. Champagne was poured by servers on each cock as women went from cock to cock. Bret was next to my father and as I sucked on his cock, my eyes locked on to my dad. The line shifted and stood before my father. He looked at me and shook his head mumbling no.

“It’s only a game.” I whispered, and grabbed his dick and sucked it into my mouth.

It was my turn to move on so I reluctantly let it out of my mouth and took the black dick next in line. After the last dick was sucked, Bret instructed everyone to jump into the pool to ‘clean’ up.

Everyone was horny and groping everyone. I swam over to my dad who looked puzzled in the shallow end. I put my arms around him.

“Having fun daddy?” I was now imitating Rome’s voice.

“My head is spinning.” He mumbled.

I held him closely, straddling his legs and stroking his hard cock.

“I love you daddy. I kissed him and guided his dick into my pussy. At first it was all me doing the work, humping up and down on his dick. Soon he began thrusting into me. I leaned into his ear and whispered.

“What’s it like to fuck the most beautiful girl in the world? What’s it like to fuck your little girl daddy?”

He just groaned and fucked me harder. He kissed my nipples and grabbed the flesh of my ass as he pounded my pussy.

Then it happened. I realized my power was so great, not only could I seduce any man, I could seduce my own father into wantonly fucking his daughter in the middle of a party with hundreds of people. It was then I had my very first orgasm.

It was the combination of the power rush that sent my body over the limit. I yelled a groan and scream, for the first time involuntarily. It was awesome. So much so, I nearly passed out. I felt dazed and realized that my dad was now cumming into my pussy. We rested in the corner of the shallow end of the pool. We finally caught our breaths and gingerly walked out of the pool.

I searched for my Versace dress, but settled for pair of baggy gap jeans and a T-shirt. Ian grabbed me by the elbow; he was naked with a hard on.

“Hey Jet … how about uh…”

I smiled and touched his cheek. “Not tonight hon. Besides, we already sucked each other earlier on line, remember?”

I walked out of the mansion and grabbed one of the limos back to my house.

So that is my life.

If you don’t hate me. Perhaps someday, I will tell you more. There is so much more to tell.

Love,

Jet

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