Cecily's Audition

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Cecily Strong proves herself for Saturday Night Live.
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Cecily Legler Strong sped her heels against the pavement, racing up midtown to Studio H. With each stride, her full cups bounced along her dress, a catsuit of sorts, all skintight and sheen. Those long, toned gazelle legs pounded the pavement, kicking up chunks. She skipped to her own beat, her milfy crow's feet puckering with childlike glee. Today was hers!

"Oh duck yeah!"

Our protagonist swayed in the breeze, her dark curls undulating. She alternately pouted. Grimaced. Frowned. Sparked an O face. And pouted again, drilling her face game like a pornstar. Today was the big day. She felt ready for anything.

While Cecily ran, she imagined her future monologues, driving boys and girls wild with her cavalcade of expressions. Bounding from one side of "Yes, daddy!" to "Pleebus an Jethro reporting lurve on scene!"

"Love your Jethro!" shouted Bill Hader as she whipped past. She was lucky to have some high profile fans in the comedy clubs she frequented, testing out her range and confidence. So many characters, all different parts of her truth. Bill wiggled his eyebrows and waved.

"See ya in the spotlights, Doctor!"

Like Pleebus and Jethro, the slutty redneck bros. Vape priest. And who could forget Dr. Sippy!

So many roles she like to play, each with their own little curlicue accents. She could get lost in a good moleman role, find herself in the essence of a rambling card shark... but what Cecily loved to play with most of all--

"Cocks!"

She dinged a rock. "Frick!" she blurted, self-censoring. She had snapped off half of her peeling Fucci's. No time to fix!

She checked her watch, just a tad left to secure her appointment. If she wowed the judges at Saturday Night Live, she would launch her comedy career, taking on hundreds of roles and bringing smiles around the world. If she were late... she didn't want to think about if she were late. Or if she got lost.

"Crab apples, ssshitshitshit!"

--

She clutched her broken shoes and dropped them into her purse. Cecily continued barefoot, hopscotching across the steaming hot streets. "One, two!" she bounded. "Screw these shoes!" She kept running. She could see the studio just ahead.

The busy summer throngs encircled the building, a cacophony of businessmen, hobos, children, vendors, and musicians, all swarming and shouting and trying their best to ignore each other. A wall of people nearly toppled her, the masses heading downtown while she headed up toward the door. In the front was a full bar, servicing hundreds of beautiful young actors and actresses.

"Good," she thought, "something to calm my nerves." Cecily ordered one screwdriver, and then another, rehearsing her Queen of the Nile impersonation to herself. A huge, hulking bodybuilder lurked while she drank.

He sported an odd Santa beard, drooping fantastically all the way to the spotless barroom floor. Santa the bodybuilder flexed a pint, doing reps and drinking, eyeing our lady's slender legs.

"Think you can part this sea?" she taunted, spreading her thighs. She flashed him a pair of crimson panties beneath her sheer black dress. He choked, spilling his beer onto himself.

"Ha, what a cheeseball!"

Santa left her alone, sweeping his sopping beard over his shoulder to leave with a parting, "Naughty..."

She returned to her drink. And had another. And yet another. Before long, Cecily had forgotten all about her audition, teetering back outside by security.

She fell asleep by a big craggy outgrowth in a park, dreaming a hazy collection of furry creatures mobbing a cheerleader.

--

"Oh shit, the audition!"

Cecily launched up off the grass, sprinting around the park. "Gotta find the frickin plaza!" Still got time, still gaht tahm... She ran and ran.

Sweat gleamed down her neck. She huffed and puffed her way up the steps. A voice called out.

"We closed, dummy!"

She spotted Tracy Morgan, a veteran cast member, spitting onto a tennis racket by an alley. Cecily turned.

"They can't be closed, dickhead, I have an audition!" She watched Tracy rip off the racket handle in two bites, tossing the bits at a dumpster. Tracy puttered around on all fours like an idiot.

"I resent that!" he said, to no one in particular.

He scowled.

"Hurry yo ass up, Ms. Dummy!"

Tracy started to walk around the side, idly swatting his racket at imaginary bugs. "Pow!" "Ka-POW! Did you see that?" He ducked into a dark, hole in the wall parlor away from the street.

--

Cecily peered quizzically at the rapidly vanishing Mr. Morgan. She checked her watch again. "Crap!" She was about to completely miss her appointment, and the judges would pass on her, and she would spent the next few years doing fumbling girly roles for black & white infomercials. Not exactly every little girl's dream.

She looked one last time at the shiny double doors with all the people strolling in and out, and took her chance. She spun, hoofing it into the shade, catching up to the parlor.

"What's the password?"

Cecily blinked.

Under a sloughing, torn Chuck E Cheese banner, on a thick wooden door in the middle of the alley, a tiny slit slid open.

"'Ain't got all day, m'am. What's the password?"

"Uh, when you're hongry for fun..." said Cecily thickly, "IT'S CHUCKIE AND CHEESE!"

She flapped her arms around stiffly like a lunatic robotic rat. The slit slammed shut.

--

"Eh, close enough. Shimmy in."

Cecily felt many eyes on her. The slam of the door behind. She strutted cooly along, approaching Alec Baldwin and Bill with Tracy. They stopped whispering to each other when she caught up with them.

"Oof!"

She felt a curl of air whip her behind. Tracy cackled madly, his boorish racket swatting just short of her pert butt. "Good luck, Dummy. You're gonna need it!"

She took a few more paces forward, waiting for her ass to unclench. "Pig!" she spat. In the distance, she could hear Alec and Bill's chuckles fading.

--

She felt around the dark labyrinth, treading a musty floor sticking to the soles of her feet. "Shouldn't I be on stage by now?" It felt like hours in the gloom.

"Where the gub is this place?" Cecily took in a bleary view of a small, decrepit kid's stage. Animatronic parts littered the area, and not a few moldy cheese stains. Spotlights snapped on.

"Right on time, Ms. Strong," called out Tina Fey's voice from somewhere in the audience.

"You are being assessed of quick wit, general comportment and professional flexibility. It is our hope that you are a suitable candidate for mass consumption for a minimum of one annum Saturday Night Live spoofs, skits, and sketches. You will be notified in four weeks of our decision. You may use any character impersonation or prop you wish, though we encourage you to play well with our cast and given instructions, to make the most of your time here at our undisclosed audition auditorium. You may begin."

Cecily could barely see. The glare was oppressive, a blindness of light.

"Uh, just a tic. Lemme..." she tried to kick her heels off, and then remembered that she wasn't wearing any.

"Act 1 Scene 1, Ms. Strong Pretends to Take Off Her Shoes," Tina narrated, adding "Sloppily."

"Get my patient some footwear, stat!"

A helper bunny galumphed heavily across the stage, carrying all manner of props and doodads, spilling a few with each hop. He dropped a pair of fine Hermes sandals in front of the girl. When she bent down to pick them up, the helper doused her sheer black dress translucent with fizzy soda.

--

"Gah, vlack yuck!"

By any standard, this was not going well for Cecily. She stood uneasily, her dress clinging to her body. She felt cold and naked. Her nipples studded out against the thin material, vying for release against the onslaught of warm stage lights. She heard several audience members titter. Stale stage dust clung to her bare feet.

"Act 1 Scene 1," cautioned Tina.

Kenan grumbled.

"This sucks, at least we had champagne when Weinstein ran Gangs of New York—"

"Harvey Weinstein smells like dickcheese! Please continue, Ms. Strong."

"Halt." said Cecily.

The helper stopped. Cecily pointed at her chin.

"Yew know I yam Queen of the Nile, you ant!"

The helper bunny's ears perked up.

"... You filth! Fetch me my royal robes!"

She twirled her fingers aloft. The bunny romped around the stage, spilling things everywhere.

"My robes, swine!" She grinned. A girl could get used to this.

"Your Highness, is you nekkid?" interjected the crowd. Cecily strained her large, dark eyes to find the harasser in the seats, but she could barely keep them open against the force of the spotlights.

"I am!..." she cried out, "... Queen! Bunny! Where are my robes?" She teared up with the intensity of the spotlights, feeling everyone's gaze. Against her pride, her nipples quickly hardened.

She fought the instinct to cover herself, instead proudly sporting her natural form for their entertainment. They hooted and hollered, whistling as she swiveled her chest on stage.

--

"Shush!" shushed Tina.

"Erm here ya go, Ms. Jochebed," sputtered the bunny. He planted a makeshift dressing room, really a puppeteer box, in front of Cecily. It completely covered the parts of her that were not already visible, framing her drenched dress right at the plunging neckline. She sternly rebuked the helper.

"Craven filthling! How dare you use my name!"

"Jochebed?"

"Mommy?"

Two puppeted hands embraced Cecily. Alec roughly felt up her tits from behind. On his hands were sock puppets, slapdash construction, idiotically brimming Egyptian princes. Moses had a little stick cane and Aaron had a swirly bald spot.

"My young! Princes!" stammered Cecily. She squirmed against Alec's iron grip, and he laughed.

"Yes, my Queen?" Alec squished her left breast.

"Yuth, momma?" Alec squished her right.

"Moses, Aaron, the Land of Milk and Honey is..."

He hefted her chest. Somewhere out past the spotlights, Tracy howled with mirth.

Cecily tried her best to ignore the peanut gallery.

"... out of milk. To arms, boys!"

The fuzzy puppets retreated off her tits. Alec slid them along her arms, tickling her.

"We march West!" Alec nudged Moses at her left side.

"We march East!" Alec tickled Aaron at her right.

"My young princes, clad me in armor! Hey!"

Alec shook the puppets wildly, stuffing them down her neckline into her deep cleavage. She held her head high, absurdly stoic in contrast to the scratchy sock puppets poking out of her top.

Alec emerged triumphantly from the puppet box. He bowed. He shook jazz hands one more time, and then set offstage. Tina let loose a giggle, bursting along with the audience into uproarious laughter.

--

A pie landed square on Cecily's face. She burned with humiliation.

"Right, clean her up, Joe. Act 1 Scene 2."

Pie cream clung to Cecily's eyes, completely occluding her vision. She felt like crying, but it was no use. She prayed her audition wasn't being recorded. Someone began a slow clap, a mocking wave that bounced from one side of the house to the other. Her audition had devolved into a horrible, patriarchal nightmare.

More helpers attended the stage, shuttering the puppet box and wrenching the dress off poor Cecily. Her arms flailed goofily outside the black box as they undressed her.

--

The helpers squealed as they worked, slipping in and out of her ruffles, pinching her. She felt her panties slip down her thighs, was shocked to notice her wetness drip onto the stage. "Am I horny?" She felt gross.

Her black dress was gone, tossed and lost among the crowd. In its place, an undersized, green, two piece bikini lewdly highlighting her hourglass features.

Her extremities pressed against the straps, screaming to be free. Dazed and alone. She held up her tits with her hands, afraid they would explode out of the too-small swimsuit, there on the stage in front of the cackling masses. What would her parents think?

Cecily's big round ass jutted out of her new thong, her crack peeking around the thin edge. She felt herself being visually exploited, those greedy eyes gobbling her up.

Alec flopped down with Tina in the middle of the house, signaling her.

Thumbs up? Thumbs down?

Tina winked, bellowing at the stage:

"Hurry up, ya lumps! Scene 2: Gianna Michaels in Santa's Sex Shop, go!"

--

At last, the bunnies wiped the pie cream off her eyes and loped off.

"Was the pie really necessary," thought Kenan aloud.

Suddenly, she was back in the spotlight, practically nude. Dwayne the Rock Johnson leered at her in a dazzling cardboard throne decked with sweets and toys. Long red sashes covered his body, topped off with white cuffs. A bag of gifts sat at his feet. He teased his long white beard with a chewed up racket, fingering the little square holes and muttering to himself.

"Naughty! Nice... Naughty! Nice..."

He smelled like a brewery.

--

"Oh fudge! Fuck!" Cecily imagined herself dashing out of this charade. How would she escape? She barely knew where she was.

Her eyes stung red with cream. She saw a pink candy cane fire pole fixed to the stage. A set of dark curtains. Over Tina and the others, a smattering of dead exit signs peeking out the corner of her eye. She cringed, holding her sides and dropping her head in shame.

"Naughty!..."

Dwayne suddenly chucked the racket away. With one sweep of his giant hand, he reddened both Cecily's cheeks pink and raw.

"Slut!"

"Oh no he di-n't!" snapped Bill.

Cecily looked stupidly for Bill in the dark, mascara melting over her nose. She nearly wretched. She tasted salty tears in her mouth, shaking her cold limbs. Should she give into this creep's demands? Should she run?

"My name is Gianna, asshole." She slapped his beard clean off. Dwayne glowered. The room stood stock still, hanging, waiting.

Tracy bawled.

"Ha-ha! Look, Santa beard gone! Who dis bitch."

--

Santa the Rock Johnson leapt from his throne, pulling Cecily by the arm. He shoved her at the candy cane pole, squeezing her tits around the cold slippery rod.

"Oh, Santa, have I been nawty this yeawr?" she cooed.

"Shit, Gianna, you're my whole Naughty List this year. You know that!"

He cupped her head, pushing her against the pole and down to the floor. Cecily split her quivering legs straight out, connecting all the way down to the dusty metal base of the pole.

"Fuck a bitch!" shouted Tina, slapping her sides. Alec smiled beside her. Tina's fingers toyed with his erection over his suit pants.

"Aw yeah, Oh..." he groaned. Tracy noticed them playing and couldn't help himself:

"Damn, Dummy, you got the whole house horny now!"

Dwayne smirked, breaking for a second. He let go of her hair. Dwayne grabbed his junk through his red trousers.

"I got a North Pole for you right here, Cecily, uh Gianna!" He guffawed, flipping out his meaty shlong on stage. The Rock's dick bobbed a few inches from Cecily's ass, shining in the spotlights.

"Fork me, Santa!" She bent low into the crowd, shaking her tits over Tina and Alec. Cecily shoved her ass back into Dwayne's hot crotch. She felt so warm against him, mm.

"Letsh shpoon, you tool."

Between the embarrassment and the hangover and the sleazy torture and breaking character and everything, Cecily found her stride, playing the 100% slut. Being degraded by her idols felt paradoxically liberating, even exhilarating.

--

Dwayne gave his mighty cock a squeeze, poking Cecily's be-thonged asscrack. She felt his hot tip drip down her slit, oozing into the folds of her pussy. She moaned.

"Oh Santa..."

"Santa's coming down your chimney, ya cheap whore."

"Ay wait!" shouted Tracy. He jumped on stage.

"We can't have a party without Rudolf!"

"Fuck it," said Kenan, joining them.

"Mm, my what big pricks you have!" Cecily bulged her eyes ludicrously, drooling and gawping.

"All the better to fuck you!" Tracy tap-tapped his big black dick on her cute forehead.

"Eat it."

Cecily turned from Tracy to face the audience, incredulous.

"But Rudolph, where's your box? Don'cha want to give Gianna your Dick in a box this Christmas? A big package for mommy?"

As Cecily adopted a full on slut affect, Tina tightered her fist around the length of Alec's growing erection, teasing him mercilessly over his pants.

"What's in the box? What's in the box?!" gasped Cecily.

"Oh, a dickhead!"

She pursed her lips.

"Let's give little dickie a little rubbie dubbie, huh boy?"

Tracy shook his head.

"Na-ah. Baby boy wants suckie sloppy, homegirl."

"Mm, I don't know, Rudolph. What does deer dick taste like?"

--

"Find out, bitch!" He shoved his fat cock in her surprised mouth.

"A-ha Ow!" Alec winced, his nuts wilting in Tina's vice grip.

"Curtains closing, Ms. Strong. Hurry up and get to the gravy!" Tina tapped her knuckles against Alec's balls, sending a flurry of mixed signals of pain and pleasure. He twitched and writhed in his seat, letting the sexual energy of the room wash over him.

--

Cecily got on her hands and knees, slurping Tracy wetly into her mouth. He grabbed her by the hair and thrusted, fucking her face.

"Christmas came early, bitch! Wait, that doesn't make sense..."

She sucked and sucked, very much aware of everyone watching her take Tracy's penis into her mouth. She loved how he tasted. How his veins bulged when she swallowed him near to his roots. She popped his dick out of her mouth. What the fuck am I doing?

--

Cecily crawling around the stage looking for boxes to put dicks in. She couldn't find any. She crawled back over to the audience, shaking her bikini as she slunk. She felt so sexy, so electrically energized as everyone focused their attention on her talents.

"What do you think fells, should I beat a couple of bludgers?"

"Yeah, okay, cool." said Kenan.

Cecily got so hot remembering that old Harry Potter sketch, the one where Lindsay Lohan shamelessly bounced her huge, creamy tits around for everyone to enjoy, at Studio H and abroad. She rolled onto the floor, squirming around and moaning. She licked the base of the fire pole, fingering herself. She felt so alive!

--

Cecily caught Kenan's wide-eyed gaze and humped the floor. He pointed at himself--"Me?"

She nodded, tearing open her bikini top, freeing her smooth round tits for everyone to see. She began to phallically pantomime, jerking her heroes off onto her face. Alec, offstage. Bill. Tracy. The Rock. Kenan. She crawled luridly toward Kenan's feet, biting her lips.

"Merry fucking Christmas, Kenan~"

Six feet away, Kenan blew his load onto her chest.

"Aw, here it goes!"

Cecily caught the load, proudly rubbing it into her tits.

"Mm, yeah..."

She mimed a cube with her hands, reaching through it as if to pull Tracy's dick to her mouth. He lurched forward, humping the air.

"Suck me, doo-doo head!"

Cecily stuck her tongue in her cheek, jerking him off from afar. She licked the air, swirling her tongue around and around his telepathic cockhead, tasting him. Tracy pulled up a stubby elf stool and leaned back, enjoying her service.

--

She took a deep breath and went down, down inside the box, invisibly licking his balls while she deepthroated him.

"Ungh. Aw. Ooh. Fuck. Damn. Damn!" Tracy leaned back, hollering.

She went right up to his junk, lapping his nutsack until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Ho ho ho, fuck!"

She took him into her throat, gorging herself on cock, nestling her nose at his musky sack. She sucked him into her, lapping madly at his balls.

"Fuck! Fuck!"

Tracy spooged her throat, falling off the stool.

--

"Hey batter batter, swing!" Cecily caught a mid-air drop of Tracy's baby juice on the tip of her tongue, holding it out for all to see. She snapped her mouth shut, swallowing.

"Rudolph, your candy tastes so salty!"

12