A popstar idol made a deal to revive her dimming popularity. It all seems well until she realised what she has to pay....
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Grace perched on the edge of her makeup chair, the glittering vanity lights painting her reflection in hues of gold. Her silver dress would look stunning to anyone else, yet to her it looked fake, overcompensating. She stared at the mirror, her flawless makeup doing little to hide the doubt etched into her features. Her hands trembled slightly as she reapplied her lipstick for the third time. She could hear her manager, Dana, pacing outside the door, barking orders to everyone around.
“This used to feel exciting,” Grace murmured to her reflection, her fingers trailing over the edge of her face. Grace's thoughts were louder than the bass pounding from the main stage. They don’t want me anymore. They want tits, ass, and trashy tracks they can grind to. Am I even enough?
The door creaked open without so much as a knock, and Dana's sharp heels clacked against the tiled floor. “Grace, you good? Crowd’s getting antsy, and we don’t have time for your... diva moments.”
“I’m fine,” Grace lied, forcing a smile. She adjusted her posture, trying to hide what she was sulking about. Dana never liked that.
Dana gave her a look, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “You better be. I don’t need another breakdown from you. Just get your ass on stage and do what we pay you to do.” With that, she left as abruptly as she arrived, the door slamming shut.
Grace sighed, her façade cracking once more. She leaned forward, fixing her eyeliner with shaking hands, muttering to herself. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
“You’re overthinking it, sweetheart,” a silky, amused voice interrupted. Grace froze, her heart skipping a beat as she shot up from her seat.
Standing near the corner of the room was a woman who hadn’t been there a moment ago. She was impossibly beautiful—tall, curvy in a way that makes women gawk at her in both lust and envy. Her obsidian black dress clung to her like a second skin, plunging dangerously low in the front, revealing a jaw-dropping amount of cleavage.
“Who the fuck are you, and how did you get in here?” Grace demanded, backing up slightly.
“Oh no need to panic and all, dear,” The woman smirked, her plump lips curling wickedly. “Call me Lucy, darling. I couldn’t help but notice your little… existential crisis. Thought I’d pop by and help.”
Grace narrowed her eyes. “Help? You don’t even know me.”
“Oh, I know you,” Lucy said, stepping closer, her hips swaying. “Grace the Gorgeous. Grace the Angelic Voice. Grace the… Washed-Up, maybe?”
“Excuse me?” Grace snapped, bristling at the insult.
“Oh, come on,” Lucy teased, her voice dripping with condescension. “You’re backstage, stewing in your own insecurity, wishing you could beat those little sluts at their own game. You think I didn’t hear?” She gestured vaguely at the air. “It’s written all over your pretty face.”
Grace’s face reddened. “You don’t know shit about me.”
Lucy shrugged, stepping closer with a grace that seemed otherworldly. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m here to help. You’ve got some nasty little thoughts rattling around in that pretty head of yours, don’t you?” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a purr. “You think you’re losing because you’re not slutty enough, not sexy enough. That’s what’s really eating at you.”
Lucy shrugged, stepping closer with a grace that seemed otherworldly. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m here to help. You’ve got some nasty little thoughts rattling around in that pretty head of yours, don’t you?” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a purr. “You think you’re losing because you’re not slutty enough, not sexy enough. You’re sick of playing second fiddle to girls half as talented as you, just because they’re willing to shake their tits on TikTok. That’s what’s really eating at you.”
Grace hesitated, her heart pounding. There was something about Lucy—something magnetic, almost hypnotic. Against her better judgment, she found herself saying, “Fine. Maybe I do wish I had… more. I don’t know. Sex appeal. Whatever it takes to stand out.”
Lucy’s grin widened. “That’s what I like to hear. And lucky for you, I can make that wish come true.” She extended a perfectly manicured hand. “Shake on it.”
Grace stared at the hand like it was a snake. “What’s the catch?”
Lucy waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing much. Just a little sliver of that voice of yours. Trust me, you won’t miss it. All you have to do is shake my hand.”
Grace hesitated, staring at Lucy’s outstretched hand. Every instinct screamed at Grace to walk away. But the desperation was louder. She was tired of feeling invisible. “Fuck it,” she muttered, grasping Lucy’s hand.
The second their palms connected, a jolt surged through Grace’s body. She gasped as the room blurred and tilted. The soft fabric of her dress rippled and tightened, morphing into a glossy, skin tight red latex that clung to her. The neckline plunged low, exposing cleavage that...shouldn’t have been there. The dress seemed too big at first—until her body began to shift.
Her chest swelled, pressure building as her modest curves expanded into massive, round, gravity-defying breasts. They jiggled heavily as they settled, filling out the latex with obscene perfection. “Oh my God,” Grace choked, her hands flying to her now-massive tits. They were impossibly firm, heavy. Her hips widened, Her lips plumped into a pouty, kissable shape, and her thighs grew thick and smooth, every inch of her screaming sex appeal.
“What the fuck is happening to me?!” she gasped, her voice breathy.
Lucy leaned back against the vanity, smug as hell. “What you wanted, doll. No take-backs.”
A heat radiated through Grace’s core, as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her reflection was almost unrecognizable—a pornographic caricature of the woman she used to be. Her nipples pressed against the tight latex, sensitive and aching. “This… this isn’t what I meant,” she stammered.
She barely had time to process it before the door burst open. Dana grinned at her. “Grace, get your fine ass out there. The VIPs are ready, and they’re throwing money like confetti.”
“What?” Grace stammered, her voice breathier than she remembered.
“You heard me, bitch,” Dana snapped, smacking her ass as she shoved her toward the stage.
Grace realised she wasn’t backstage at a concert anymore. Her stage is now a lavish nightclub, with a brass pole instead of a microphone gleaming under the spotlight. Grace's heels clicked against the stage floor, almost automatically, the sound drowned out by the booming bassline that pulsed through the club.
Her mind screamed, What the fuck is happening to me?! But her body had a mind of its own, moving with sensuality she didn’t recognize. Her hips swayed and danced for the crowd as her hands slid up and down the pole as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“God, you like that, don’t you?” Grace purred. She didn’t even know who she was talking to, but the crowd roared in response. Her lips parted, a soft, needy moan escaping as she slid down the pole.
The sound of cheers and catcalls hit her like a wave, the hungry gazes of the men in the audience devouring her.
Her mind was screaming. This isn’t me. What the fuck am I doing? Stop! Stop! But her body betrayed her, arching against the pole, sliding down to a squat that had her thighs spread wide, her glistening cleavage nearly kissing the stage floor.
She ran her tongue along her plush lips, her lashes fluttering as she whispered, “Oh, you naughty boys. You wanna see more, huh?” Her hands roamed her body, squeezing her breasts together, drawing more cheers and whistles. The crowd surged closer, their energy feverish. Her body burned with a heat she couldn’t control, her nipple hardened against the latex, her thighs slick with arousal. She threw her head back, arching her back as she let out a throaty moan, “Mmm, fuck, that feels so good.”
One man, seated at the edge of the stage, leaned in further, his hand brushing her calf. Grace’s body shivered at the touch, yet her mouth curled into a coy smile that betrayed her inner panic. Don’t touch me—why can’t I move away?
“You’re so fucking hot,” the man growled, his hand trailing higher up her leg. “Bet you feel as good as you look, huh?”
Grace giggled, much to her own disgust. “Why don’t you find out after the show, baby?” she teased, winking at him. She felt sick on the inside. What am I saying? What’s happening to me?!
He looked up at Dana, who stood off to the side, arms crossed and a calculating smile on her face. “I want her. How much?” he asked bluntly.
Dana’s smile widened, her eyes glinting. “She’s a popular one, sugar. Let’s say... twenty grand for an hour. Cash upfront.”
“Done,” the man said without hesitation, pulling out his wallet and tossing a wad of bills onto the table.
Grace’s heart thundered in her chest, but her body didn’t hesitate. She leaned down, giving the man an eyeful of her cleavage as she ran a finger under his chin. “You’d better be worth it,” she cooed, her voice oozing confidence she didn’t feel.
The man grinned, his hand boldly cupping her breasts through the tight latex. “Oh, I’ll make it worth your while.”
Her fingers traced his jawline before she turned back to the pole, her hips swaying like a preview for him as she continued her performance. Her hips grinded against the pole as she moaned like she was feeling herself. She spread her legs wide, arching her back, her head tilting as she let out a breathy moan. “Fuck, you’re all so bad,” she teased the crowd, running her hands over her curves, “You’re making me so wet.”
Her mind screamed against the humiliation, the degradation of it all, but her body reveled in the attention. Lucy did not lie, technically. This is what she agreed on.
And as the cheers and catcalls echoed in her ears, money raining onto the stage as Grace collected the bills with a slow, humiliating crawl, she could not stop herself from asking. What the hell have I done?
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Hello everyone! Sorry for apparently disappearing. Life was being quite hectic and getting my last few posts censored kinda turned me off from posting more. Here is something for today, but rest assured, something special for Christmas is coming! Enjoy the weekly materials in the meantime!