The Big Time Pt. 03

Michael leaned back in his chair, considering Simon's offer. "That's quite a sales pitch," said Michael as he scratched his chin. Simon placed a fountain pen in front of Michael. Michael stared at the pen for a long minute. "Shooting Stars" was engraved on the side. He picked it up and signed his name at the bottom of the last page of the contract.

"Excellent decision Michael. Welcome to Shooting Stars," said Simon.

"Well?"

"Well what?" asked Simon.

"The audition! What did they say?" The barely contained grin on Simon's face told Michael all he needed to know. "You're shitting me!" exclaimed Michael.

"No, Michael. I am not shitting, pissing, or doing any other particularly unpleasant thing to you, you have just been awarded the male lead in 'Chicago Style Romance,'" said Simon.

"How?! Why?! Holy shit!" shouted Michael. His mind was racing.

"You and I will be negotiating the contract shortly. Believe me, I will get you the biggest check you've ever seen for thirty days of work," said Simon.

"This is so unbelievable! I must be dreaming!" said Michael.

Simon stood up, smiling. "Well, Mike, this concludes our meeting. I'm really happy for you. Oh, and before I forget, here." Simon handed Michael a small briefcase. "This is yours. Don't lose it."

"I'm gonna paint the town red!" said Michael as he grabbed the briefcase from Simon.

"Just stay out of any big trouble, okay?"

Michael vigorously shook hands with Simon and left the office. The bright smile on his face could probably be seen from a space shuttle. He was so excited when he left the building that he practically kicked the exit door open. He heard a woman gasp in fright.

"I'm so sorry!" said Michael as he came out of the building to see what had happened. "Did I hit you?"

"It's okay, you just missed me," said a slightly shaken Natalie Portman.

"I'm just really excited. I just landed my first starring role!" exclaimed Michael, not entirely grasping who he was gushing at.

"That's great, that really is. If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment." She swiped a card in reader that was attached to the intercom and entered the building.

The driver who had picked Michael up earlier waved to him. Michael jogged over. "I'm working for you today, Mr. Torbin. So where to?" asked the driver as he opened the door for Michael.

"I don't care! Anywhere! Just drive around!" said Michael as he slid into the limousine. The driver closed the door and went around and got into the driver's seat. They pulled out of the parking lot moments later.

Michael picked up the car phone and dialed the house in Chicago. After four rings, the phone was answered. "Hey Tom! You're never going to believe what's happened!"

"You won't believe what's happened to me either," said Thomas with significantly less enthusiasm.

"I'll tell you my news first. Remember that movie I told you about? The one that Kirsten is making?"

"Yeah?"

"Well I'm in it! I got the fucking lead!" exclaimed Michael. "Can you believe that?!"

"Holy shit! Are you serious?!" asked Thomas.

"Hell yes I am! I'm gonna be in a movie, Tom! I'm gonna be in an honest to God, major motion picture!" shouted Michael.

"You lucky bastard! Why the hell didn't I get a movie role?"

"You just don't have the look?" suggested Michael.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. When is it going to shoot? How much are you getting paid? Can you get me a cameo? Do you need a manager?" fired Thomas in rapid succession.

"I don't really know anything about the money or the movie yet. Maybe, and I just signed with an agency, not five minutes ago," said Michael, calming down a bit.

"Wow. So you have an agent?" chuckled Thomas. "Well, congratulations Mike. You've instantly become the coolest friend I've ever had."

Michael laughed. "Oh hey, what were you going to say? You had news too?" Thomas did not answer. "Hey, still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"What's wrong?"

"First of all, I wouldn't call it news," said Thomas quietly.

"Why? What happened? Was it bad?" asked Michael.

"You tell me," said Thomas. Michael heard the pop and hiss of a can of beer being opened. "I had a little encounter with a woman a few days ago. A good friend of Kirsten's in fact."

"Really? Who?"

"But this wasn't by chance like Rachael. Oh no no no no. Mistres-, well, she was definitely coming after me. Knew where I lived, knew exactly what she was going to do. I was just a deer in the headlights," continued Thomas.

"What are you talking about?"

"Big, round, soft and tender headlights. Wrapped in skin tight, polished leather. Parading around on high heels. Holding that GODDAMN whip."

"Maybe I DON'T wanna hear this news," said Michael.

+++

Late-afternoon. Two days ago. Ohio street beach. Chicago, Illinois.

The temperature was hovering at just over ninety degrees but starting to cool, and the sky was devoid of clouds. Wavy lines seemed to rise from the streets as people went about their daily jobs. Not Thomas though, he was enjoying one of the last summer vacations he was ever going to have, getting a tan while lying on a beach towel. The beach wasn't very crowded; there were probably more people jogging and biking than there were on the sand.

Thomas glimpsed at his watch and sat up. He flipped over and was lowering himself onto his stomach when he saw a gorgeous woman with long brown hair walk towards him. She was wearing pink tinted sunglasses and a round hat with a big floppy brim that went all the way around. Her lime green bikini top just held in her breasts, while the other half of the bikini was hidden behind a translucent light blue veil that was wrapped around her trim waist. She was carrying a towel and a small duffel bag.

She walked six or seven feet past him and fanned out her beach towel. After laying it down, she bent over to straighten it out, her athletic ass waving in the air slightly. Thomas made no attempt to disguise his ogling. Thomas licked his lips and picked up his beach towel. He stepped into his flip flops and headed for the beautiful creature sitting in front of him.

"Hi, mind if I join you?" asked Thomas.

The girl looked up at him and grinned. "Not at all."

Thomas fanned his beach towel out next to hers and sat down. "I'm Tom Manette," he said, extending his hand.

With a firm grasp, she shook his hand. "My name is Eliza Dushku."

"I thought it was you," said Thomas. "It's really nice to meet you. I didn't realize Chicago was becoming such a popular place. I don't think this town has seen a celebrity in years."

"So I'm the first?" asked Eliza.

"Well that's what I mean. It's shocking that you're not the first, at least not the first one that I've met in the last couple weeks," said Thomas.

"Oh really?" said Eliza, turning her head to look out over the lake. "Which other celebrities do you know?"

"Someone who I think that you know; Kirsten Dunst."

"Riiight, she's doing a movie here. And of course I know her, we made a film together,' said Eliza with a smirk.

"Yeah, that's right," said Thomas. He cleared his throat. "The other one I met was Rachael Leigh Cook."

Eliza nodded at him. "That's cool. Must have been a real treat to hang out with those two at the same time."

Thomas blinked at her. "Um, yeah. They were a lot of fun."

"You know, I hear that Rachael is a bit of a, how should I put this-"

"Wildcat?" finished Thomas.

"That's as good a word as any," said Eliza. "So?"

"Um, I wouldn't know," said Thomas. "She seemed normal when I met her."

"Huh."

Thomas stretched his legs out. "So what brings you to Chicago?" he asked.

"I came out here to visit an aunt. But she's working today and I'm leaving tonight so I decided to look around the city a little more," replied Eliza. "I had no idea that Chicago actually had beaches."

"I'm sure they don't compare to beaches in California," said Thomas. "And there is definitely no comparison for a girl like you in Chicago."

Eliza eyed him. "Really."

"Oh yeah. Been here for three years and-"

"You wanna get outta here?" interrupted Eliza.

Thomas raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Sure, I know a nice bar we can go to."

"I don't mean for a drink, Tom." The look in her eyes made it obvious what she wanted.

"Ooookay. My place isn't too far from here, just a short drive," said Thomas.

"Great," said Eliza with a smile. She picked her towel and began brushing it off. Thomas did the same.

He picked up her bag, which was surprisingly heavy. "I'm right down there," said Thomas, pointing.

Eliza immediately grabbed her bag from Thomas's hands. "I'll carry that," said Eliza. The two of them walked down the street a little ways and found Thomas's car. They both hopped in and Thomas drove them back to his house.

+++

"How the hell did you get her to come to the house so easily?" asked Michael.

"Because I am that damn good," said Thomas.

"No, really," said Michael.

"Okay, fine, not really. Like I said before, she was stalking me. She was going to end up in our house if I had spit in her face."

"Spit in her face? What do you mean?"

"Look, SHE pursued ME. Okay?" said Thomas testily.

"Are you sure that's not your ego talking?" questioned Michael.

"Do you wanna hear the rest or not?"

"Yeah, but I'm still not getting this stalker thing."

"Maybe you will once I'm done with the story."

+++

Eliza and Thomas made idle chitchat on the way back to the house. Thomas took the long way back, hoping to run into people he knew so he could show off his latest catch. Eliza had a pretty good idea of what he was doing, so she kept her sunglasses on and the brim of her hat down. After a few minutes of wandering Thomas finally got the two of them back to the house. He parked in a spot out front on the street and then switched the engine off.

"We're here," he said.

"Nice place," said Eliza as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Thanks. So, shall we?"

Thomas and Eliza got out of the car and headed up the cracked sidewalk to the front door. Thomas unlocked it and went inside, Eliza followed and shut the door behind her.

"Would you like a drink or anything?" offered Thomas.

Eliza responded by dropping her bag to the floor where it landed with a metallic thud. She then tossed her hat onto the couch and strode over to Thomas and shoved her tongue in his mouth. He staggered backwards and hit the edge of a wall. Her hands roved over his body while his were gripping the door frame, trying to steady himself. After regaining his composure, Thomas decided to exert a little more control over the situation.

Of course, thinking an action and doing an action are two different things. Thomas reached around to put his hands on Eliza's back but she quickly latched onto his wrists and pushed his arms back. She broke the kiss and pulled him towards the couch. She sat down but kept Thomas at arms length, preventing him from joining her.

"Take your clothes off," ordered Eliza. "Now."

"Uhh, okay," said Thomas as he stepped back. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped his shorts. He was still wearing boxers.

"Very nice," said Eliza as she admired Thomas's sculpted, muscular body. She leaned back into the couch and put her arms up over the top. "But you're still wearing something."

In a flash, Thomas's boxers were nowhere near where underwear is meant to be. "How's this?"

Eliza took her sunglasses off, her eyes drawn to Thomas's cock. "That will do nicely. Now, where is your bedroom?"

Remembering just how sloppy his room was, Thomas gestured towards Michael's room. "Right there."

"Lead the way stud." Thomas turned around and went into the bedroom. He could almost feel Eliza's eyes inspecting his backside.

+++

"You fucked her on my bed?!" asked Michael.

"Well, um, yeah. Your room is a lot cleaner than mine," said Thomas. "I don't want girls to think I'm a total slob."

"You ARE a total slob!"

"I know, but you gotta ease girls into that sort of thing."

"Well, don't fucking 'ease' into them on my fucking bed!"

"Relax Mike, it's not like it was the first time," assured Thomas.

Michael groaned. "I hope you washed my damn sheets."

+++

Eliza pushed Thomas onto the bed. She kicked off her sandals and climbed on top of him.

"This'll be a lot more fun if we're both naked," said Thomas.

Eliza grinned and leaned down and kissed him again. Thomas tried to reach around but Eliza again grabbed his wrists and pinned his arms down. She slowly pushed his arms up and over head.

"Close your eyes and don't move," said Eliza.

"The last time I heard that I ended up in Grant Park wearing nothing but a thong," said Thomas as he closed his eyes.

"Don't worry," said Eliza. "This will be much more unpleasant." Thomas felt cold leather wrapping around his wrists and the snaps of steel clasps. He was now chained to the bedpost. Thomas opened his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked.

"Making sure you don't go anywhere while I'm gone," said Eliza, getting up from the bed.

"What?!"

"I just need to pick up a few things. I couldn't fit all of my stuff in that little bag," said Eliza matter-of-factly. She put her sandals back on and walked out of the room, switching off the lights as she went.

"Eliza wait!" said Thomas desperately, but she was already gone. He yanked and pulled at his restraints, but he was firmly locked down. Thomas thought about shouting for help, but he didn't want his tenants or neighbors to see him like this. He looked around Michael's room, hoping for some way out. Suddenly, the phone on Michael's dresser began ringing. Thomas tried to reach it with his feet, but it was just too far away.

+++

"What time did this happen?" asked Michael.

"I'm not sure, I couldn't see your stupid gay Mickey Mouse clock from my position," snapped Thomas.

"Around seven o'clock maybe?"

"Probably, why?"

"That was me then, I think," said Michael.

"What do you mean that was you?"

"On the phone. I think I was the one who called you while you were tied down," said Michael. "I had a layover at O'Hare and was seeing if you wanted to get a drink or something."

"Well goodie for you. Can I continue?" said Thomas.

+++

A little while later, Thomas heard the front door open and close. Someone came in and went into the bathroom. Five minutes later that person left the bathroom and headed towards Michael's room. The distinctive click clack of high heels echoed through the small home and a shadowy figure appeared in silhouette in the door frame holding a bag.

"Eliza?" asked Thomas, straining to get a better look at the figure.

"Not anymore," said Eliza in a throaty, sultry voice. "From now on, YOU shall refer to me as mistress."

"You gotta be joking."

Silent, Eliza stepped into the room and advanced towards the bed. Thomas noticed a thin wand type object in her hands, with a bunch of little dreadlocks hanging off of it. He realized that whatever it was looked too much like a horse whip for comfort. She tossed the bag to the floor. Eliza stood over Thomas and gave him a sound whack across the chest with the whip.

"JESUS OWWW!" exclaimed Thomas.

"I am NOT joking," snapped Eliza.

Thomas took a look at his assailant. She was wearing a skin tight leather outfit, polished to a shine. Eliza's naked breasts were proudly displayed through her get up and she was wearing knee high boots with heels. Her hair was still loose around her face. Eliza was wearing bright red lipstick and dark eye shadow.

"Eliza, quit messin-"

WHAP! "What did you call me?" she asked.

"I called you Eliza!" said Thomas. WHAP! "Argggh! ELIZA DAMNIT!"

WHAP! "One more try," stated Eliza.

"Fuck you!" spat Thomas.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

+++

Michael saw the little ice box of drinks and decided to crack open his own can of beer. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. Mistress, I mean Eliza, is one whacked out bitch," said Thomas.

"Are there any marks?" asked Michael, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah there are," said Thomas. Anticipating Michael's next question, he said, "And NO, you can't see them. They'll be gone by the time you get back here anyway."

"What makes you think I want to see your ass covered with whip marks?"

"Anyway, the next thing that mistre-, fuck, ELIZA, did-"

"Whoa, Tom, I think you've told me enough about how she broke you down like a little girl and forced you to call her mistress. What happened after all that?" asked Michael.

"That's when it got fun. Sort of."

+++

Eliza mercifully put the whip down on the dresser. Thomas watched her movements warily. "Is there anything you would like to do for me?"

Thomas thought very carefully about his answer. "I would love to eat your pussy, mistress."

"Why should I let you do that?" asked Eliza.

Thomas paused as he constructed his answer in his mind. "Because it is my duty to please you."

"It is your duty to do what I say," said Eliza. "Beg."

Thomas gritted his teeth. "I am dying to eat your pussy, mistress. I want to pleasure you in whichever way you desire. I know I am not worthy, but please mistress, please allow me."

Eliza put her hands on her hips as she regarded the man lying still in the bed, chained and helpless. He may have sounded subservient but she could see in his eyes that he was just churning with anger and frustration. She walked slowly towards the head of the bed and stopped just a foot away from Thomas. Then she unzipped and slowly pulled down the tight leather bottom she was wearing, exposing her pussy to the world and its one lucky viewer.

Thomas watched carefully as Eliza began to undo the binding holding his restraints to the bedpost. Although Thomas was free to move around now, his wrists were still bound securely in front of his body. Eliza stepped back and reclined in a chair, beckoning to Thomas.

The first thought that went through Thomas's mind involved sweet revenge on Eliza. The next thought was of just how much kickboxing Eliza had learned when she was Buffy. While he was wasting his time thinking, his body seemed to move of its own accord towards Eliza and her wide open legs. It knelt down before her and looked up for her final approval.

The smug look on Eliza's face would normally have pissed Thomas off, but the sight of her glistening pussy lips seemed to drive all of the negative emotions out of Thomas. He leaned in close and inhaled deeply; her musk was intoxicating. He flattened his tongue and licked up and down her slit slowly, replacing every drop of her womanly secretions with his own lubrication.

Thomas kept his eyes on Eliza, never letting his gaze leave hers. Her expression had changed ever so slightly from smug bitch to pleased bitch. Thomas began fingering Eliza's pussy, only to be reprimanded by a hard tug on his hair, snapping his head back.

"No fingers," said Eliza.

"Yes, mistress," replied Thomas. He buried his nose into her pussy, trying to get his tongue inside her. Eliza let her head hang over the back of the chair, relishing the sensations. She tried to hold her moans in; she didn't want Thomas to think he was gaining a little control back. After a few moments of vigorous licking her clit began peeking out from under its hood and Thomas made a move towards it.

Thomas firmed his tongue and began massaging Eliza's clit with the tip. Then he began flicking it up and down and then side to side. Eliza's resolve to contain her moans was being severely tested. He moistened his tongue a little bit more and then began slathering her clit. Once it became more exposed he wrapped his lips around it and began sucking on it, drawing short, quick groans from Eliza. Thomas gathered up some of Eliza's juices with his finger and began fucking her with it.