tagBDSMSlutStar Ch. 03

SlutStar Ch. 03


The story is about Taylor, bandleader and lead singer of a heavy metal band in which she's the only female, and how she slowly becomes her band's slave. Her transformation will affect her entire career, as she turns from a no nonsense tomboy into a sexualised slavegirl. The series will mostly revolve around CMNF and submission.

Please feel free to comment and leave me feedback, it would be very appreciated :)


Buzz. Buzz. Buzz, buzz buzz buzz buzz BUZZ!

"Will you stop?!" I screamed at my cellphone like an idiot.

Two seconds later, I remembered I could just deactivate the vibrations and save my ears from the unending noise. Peter kept texting me every 5 seconds, ordering me to answer. Part of me couldn't blame him for doing that, he was my agent after all, but the seriousness with which he did his job meant I wasn't left alone. Since four in the morning, he had been texting me without stop. At first, I had hoped a few "let this go," and "forget about it" would do the trick, but then he left a voice message. In it, he explained that he had looked at the photos. Even he now knew the scandal wasn't a hoax. Taylor Bianco really had been streaking nude at night alongside her lead guitarist. Well, at least that was the version the news went with. I hadn't been "streaking nude" as much as "showing off my body to my lead guitarist after having been fondled by a bunch of strangers." Thankfully, nobody save for Claire and Luis knew that.

Fuck. I hadn't thought of Claire since the whole thing had happened 48 hours prior. While I trusted Luis to withhold the information until the end of his life, Claire and I weren't close enough to ensure that level of trust. Plus, she had a whole album of me posing half-naked in a back alley in front of a dozen strangers... then dancing totally naked whilst being groped by these same strangers. How long until the rats out there found out the identity of the Asian girl in the leaked photos, and offered her large sums of money to release her own, even more explicit photos to the public? Things were going from bad to worse to absolute fucking shit. And there I was, curled into a ball inside a tight little room. It wasn't even a room, I noticed, just those places were janitors left their mops and buckets. The panic had caused me to just run straight into the first place I had seen.

Janitors, I thought. What would Paul, our studio's janitor, another one of my close friends think? He knew me, we always went for drinks and spent time together in both my loft and his apartment. Did he see the photos too? What about all the producers and businessmen tied to the release of my album, did they also see the entirety of my bare body? And why the fuck was I feeling hints of arousal just thinking about that? Oh wait, I know why: probably because I was coming out as a total slut. I had spent half of the previous night sucking on my bandmate's cock, and had almost drifted off to sleep doing so. Fortunately, Trey had woken me up at eight, and driven us to the film set where the music video was to be shot. Instead of meeting with Pierre, the video's director, I had run off to hide when the messages from Peter became too many for me to deal with. I was scared, ok? Too scared to deal with the consequences of my own actions. And talking to Peter, would, as always, mean dealing with the consequences of my actions. When left to my band, it was all art, all freedom and craziness. But Peter was my anchor to reality, the one through whom I dealt with the boring side of my career. Loud thumps on the door made me jump. Someone was knocking on it.

"Taylor?" It was Trey.


"Pierre's been waiting for ten minutes, what are you doing?"

"Staring into the void that is now my life."

"Is that one of our lyrics?"

"No, just me contemplating the truth."

"Come on Taylor, stop being a drama queen."

"I'm a famous singer, I'm supposed to be a drama queen."

"What's going on?"



"If I open the door, will you hug me?"

"Of course."

I kicked the door open and buried my face in his chest, crying like a little princess. Well, maybe not like a princess... Don't picture a nice Hollywood type of weeping, but more something along the lines of a dumbfuck tween having heard that Zayn Malik left One Direction. Not being very flattering to myself, am I? Well, I don't shy away from describing how sexy my body is, why should I shy away from describing how dumb I sound when crying? Just a question of fairness, y'know? In any case, back to the story, I'm going off track. Where was I again? Oh, yes, Trey.

So Trey was holding me in his arms protectively, but I could sense how weird he felt.

"What?" I mumbled as the tears rolled on my face. "Why are you so tense?"

"I'm not used to you like that..."

Sure, Taylor the tomboy, Taylor the harsh bossy woman, Taylor the sharp-tongued tiger, I couldn't be anything else, could I?

"Look," I moaned, "I know I'm not usually this... vulnerable... But I did spend half of last night giving you a blowjob, so maybe you don't need to be this surprised if we're being more intimate..."

"All right," he whispered, holding me closer. "Now tell me what's going on."

"I'm stressed out Trey, I can't take it anymore!"

"It's about the photos on the internet?"

"Yeah. I'm fucked, I'm completely fucked!"

"Come on, this is showbiz. Bad publicity is the best kind of publicity, don't you know that? The worst it'll do is bring more attention to us."

"What if it doesn't? What if it does the exact opposite? We're in showbiz, EXACTLY. Public backlash can finish an artist's career in a single day. And have you listened to the bloody news? That's what's going on outside, right now, backlash and outrage."

He pulled me away from his embrace to look me in the eye.

"Taylor, come on. Pierre is waiting for us. Let's shoot the music video and think about something else, ok? Brewing those thoughts in your head won't do you any good."

He was right. I took a deep, deep breath, and exhaled.

"All right... I think I'm better."

"Good. Now move."

I had begun walking but stopped just as soon. Trey had given my ass a little tap. I turned to him with eyes full of fake anger, and a smile full of pure joy.

"If you ever do this again," I groaned, "I'll fucking kill you."

He wrapped his arm around my back and gave me an even stronger tap on the ass. Not being able to contain my giggle, I pulled him closer and kissed him on the mouth. Hey, I was already getting used to doing that...

"You're learning," I said, proud of my Trey.

We left the forsaken corner of the building where I had hidden myself, and joined Pierre and his filming crew in the main part of the film studio (a large space painted all in white, probably used for photoshoots). Being a renowned, Cannes award winning director, the Frenchman had easily secured a day of shooting within the vast complex of movie sets in the outskirts of Chicago. It wasn't a Los Angeles film studio by any means, but there was still a nice selection of villas, castles and old timey streets to be found in it. Overjoyed to see me, Pierre jumped on his feet to shake my hand with the speed of light.

"So happy to see, so happy to see you Taylor! We'll begin the filming right now!"

"So what's the plan?"

"We'll do a series of different vignettes that will all be strung together in editing. Each of those vignettes will take place in an eloquent set that fits the mood of the song. I know this complex well, and there are many such sets we'll be able to use. Otherwise, we can start!"

"Uh, don't we need Jamie, Luis and Matt too? Idiots should already be here..."

"We can start doing some shots without them for now."

"Makes sense. So what do I do? Just sing the song?"

"That's it. Just get in the mood, feel the text, free yourself, and perform the piece. Ideas will come about as we improvise, and I'll give you directions when those ideas come."

"All right."

I was used to more detailed shoots in the past, but Pierre was known for his improvisational, "in the moment" approach to filmmaking. Not a bad thing, especially since it felt freeing. I could now do whatever I wanted instead of placing myself in an exact position to get an exact shot exactly right. However, just as the crew were setting up the camera and lighting, I felt Trey's hand on my shoulder.

"Taylor, it's urgent." Before I could respond, he pulled me away from the crew and put his cellphone in my hand. "It's Peter," he said, and my heart dropped. "He says you HAVE to talk to him."

Sighing, I took the phone and walked into another set, one that looked like a restaurant. With no one around me, I spoke.


"Taylor..." he groaned. Well shit. He was angry. Very, very angry. "Why didn't you answer me?"

"It's... well... I didn't have time."

"I've been trying to talk to you for 48 hours, of course you had time!"

"Well now those 48 hours are gone, what do you want?"

"For you to help me sort this thing out. Because trust me, if you don't take this seriously and listen to me, your career might just collapse!"

I know Peter was a well-intentioned man, but he was about to kill me with a cardiac arrest because of his choice of words.

"What is it?" I mumbled, my lips shaking already.

"It's that I have three of our co-producers on the line right now, and they're telling me they're thinking of dropping us!"

"What..." I breathed, stupefied. "But why?"

"Because they're with Disney, Taylor! They signed with us in the first place because you had a kid-friendly public appearance, unlike all those scantily clad singers! Your harsh music was already a worrying factor for them, but now you expect them to remain tied with someone who's involved in a sexual scandal?"

"Sexual scandal?! I didn't fuck someone's wife..."

"But you streaked naked at night in front of your lead guitarist! There's photos of you naked on the internet! This is bad Taylor! Those Disney execs are THIS close to cancelling their contract with us! Do you know how many of our costs these people cover? If we lose them, you can say goodbye to Iceland and all the East Asian countries for tours, goodbye to the budget for the next music videos, goodbye to... lemme calculate that... 47% of the publicity and marketing costs... Without them, you and the boys will be as good as some obscure pagan metal band!"

My head was spinning. I was about to vomit. Nauseous, I sat myself down before I fell and hurt myself. Oh god, I had fucked up, I had fucked up so bad... And I felt so bad... It wasn't just my career on the line. It was also that of Jamie, that of Trey, that of Matt, that of Luis...

"And that's not all princess, there's a petition on Facebook from angry moms and conservatives to kick you out of showbiz."

"Whu... what the... what?! Why?! Raunchiness isn't new to stars, why are people making such a fuss about ME?!"

"It's the Miley Cyrus effect, Taylor. Had you been like Gaga or Perry from the get go, you wouldn't have received such a major backlash. But every one knows you by how tomboyish, by how asexual you are. People LOOK UP to you because of it, and now that image of you is completely shattered. And let me remind you that Gaga and Perry might be sexy in their music videos, but they never show actual nudity, and everything they do is in the context of their ART. This is not art, Taylor, this is you outside at night, full frontal!"

"I didn't know people took pics of me! I didn't see anyone around!"

"Of course you didn't, you were completely drunk from what Luis told me. What matters is that you have a MAJOR public image crisis on your hands right now."

"Then we'll let it pass, Peter. I don't care what the Internet says about me. Let them yell them about me, and in one week, they'll have moved on to another scandal. They can't hurt me with their petition."

"No, they can't. The Disney representatives though, THEY can hurt you, and they're going to. Getting Mickey for the ride was the best achievement of your career, but without the mouse, Sourmouths can't maintain it's current scale of affairs. You were never for kids, but you were never for adults either. Your lyrics didn't have drugs or violence, YOU didn't do drugs or violence, and most of all, you weren't butt naked all the time. You were perfect for their female teenage demographic. But now, we have photos of you drunk and completely naked in the middle of Chicago. Do you really think Disney wants to keep ties with someone involved in such a scandal?"

"So WHAT?!" I yelled, panicking. "What the fuck do you want me to do?!"

"To listen, and listen closely. Now I asked our Disney people to call their higher ups, and those guys aren't so sure about cancelling the contract with you. Yes, the scandal is bad for their image, but through you, they have a slice of the pie generated by heavy metal. That's a cake Disney never had a piece of, and Disney's a virus, it'll get a hold of anything it can and try to keep that hold."

"Then if they won't leave, where's the problem?"

"They didn't say they won't leave. They want a compromise."

"A compromise?"

"Yes. They like the revenue you generate for them, but they're still sensitive about their brand's image. They told me they'll maintain their contract with you if you issue a public apology."

Now, beneath all the panic, there was rage arising.

"A public apology?" I repeated, stupefied. "They want me publicly humiliated?!"

"They need to make sure THEIR image remains intact, and if you apologise publicly, that'll do the trick. Now while you were hiding for the last 48 hours, I was looking into that. You remember that scandal back in 2014, when that actor, the comedy guy, apologised on Jimmy Fallon for using a homophobic slur? That's all Disney's asking from you, to sit down on a well-known platform, one that'll be seen and heard by everybody, and apologise. Now I've been making phone calls left and right, and I got... lemme get the list... I got O'Brien, I got Fallon, Kimmel, Corden, and their respective agents are all begging me to get you on their show. This is juicy stuff for them, and the perfect solution for you. I even called Oprah's people, and they might agree to schedule an interview with you."

"Oprah? I'm not that well known, why would SHE jump on the bandwagon?"

"Your band might not be Metallica, but YOU sure are mainstream now, princess. You made sure of that when you went out naked in the middle of the night. All of America has its eyes set on you. Heck, even your own country does."

"I have to go film the music video."

Peter knew me, and he knew what that gruff tone meant.

"Taylor, you have to do this. Either you swallow your pride and save your career, or keep your pride and watch what you've built fall."

"Maybe the band and I won't care if we lose gravitas."

"The band won't lose as much as you if you don't comply." I didn't answer immediately, confused. What was Peter going on about? "Taylor, princess... You know I love you, but I have my own interests to think about. If you won't try being responsible for your actions... I don't have to pay for them, and neither to the boys."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's a third option that's even more reasonable for Disney. They don't have ditch the band, only you."

My jaw fell to the ground.

"I'm the lead singer..."

"Firing a lead singer isn't unheard of. This scandal deals with you and only you, not the band at large. Listen Taylor, I know you're a proud girl, I know the idea of apologising in front of millions of people is the most daunting thing you'll ever have to do... But it's the best option we have right now." I couldn't answer. I just listened in complete silence. Peter's words stung, but they were charged with reason. "Firing you is the last thing I ever want to do, princess."

"I know, Pete..."

"You know how much I care about you. I formed this band for you, for your voice, for your texts. Don't make me lose you, yeah?"

"You're right," I sighed, admitting defeat. "You're right... I fucked up. It's fair that I should solve the problem."

"I'm glad you're being reasonable."

"Listen, I gotta go, Pierre's waiting for me. We'll decide which talk show we'll go for this evening, all right? I love you."

"Love you too princess. Now go out there and make a great music video. This whole story will be over soon."

I went back to where the filming crew was. Pierre jumped to his feet the moment he saw me, eager to start the shooting, but he quickly noticed how low I held my head.

"Do you mind if I take a few minutes to get ready?" I asked, sitting on the ground with my head in my arms. "I need to... I need to think."

Trey knelt next to me, concerned. Even Pierre said something in French to his crew, then came to see what was wrong with me.

"What's going on?" Trey asked.

"I have only one option left. Peter says the Disney execs will annul their contract with us unless I make an appearance on a talk show and publicly apologise. They want to keep their image clean, and unless I make a public apology, that won't be the case."

"For the photo scandal, yes?" Pierre asked. "I heard about it."

Everyone in the world seemed to have. At least I felt completely fine imagining Pierre looking at those photos, the guy was openly gay.

"Well, Taylor..." Trey mumbled with hesitation.

"I'll do it, you don't need to worry about that. But it's just... so bloody unfair... I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't hurt anyone. Peter says it can be like that time when Jonah Hill called a guy a faggot, and then apologised on air. Fuck's sake... A girl getting naked is the equivalent of homophobia?!"

"It's the society we have," Pierre remarked melancholically. "Some values improve over time, others stay stupid. Most people stay stupid. Nobody ever complained when I had people getting shot in my films, but female nudity, that was always food for controversy."

I wanted to cry. Just imagining myself sitting in front of a talk-show audience, mumbling apologies with my head down... just imagining it was unbearable. I didn't know how I could do it. I knew I couldn't do it. It wasn't in my nature, it wasn't who I was. I was too proud to apologise even when I was clearly wrong. But this... I had to apologise for a personal choice? Something that hadn't harmed anyone? I couldn't do it. I knew I couldn't.

Groaning, I got up to pace and back and forth through the set. I felt like running to the restaurant set and destroying everything in sight. I needed to hit something, to break something... I couldn't do it, I couldn't do it...

"I can't do it," I finally said out loud. "I'm sorry, I just can't."

"Uh, Taylor..." Trey mumbled. " You just said you wou-"

"Shut the fuck up!" I ordered. "Shut up or I swear I'll make you regret it." Thankfully, Trey was a wise boy, and he acquiesced in silence. "Yeah, I said something two seconds ago. And now I changed my mind. Is it that hard to grasp?!" The entire crew was awkwardly looking at me from afar. Trey was utterly confused, and Pierre... Pierre was fascinated. He was looking right into my soul as I paced back and forth like a maniac with my whole body shaking in frustration. He knew that he was looking at a volcano about to erupt. Turning to him, I said: "What was that about larvae, yesterday? You said people who never change are people who never live."

I began laughing. Call me demented, that's probably what the film crew was calling me in French as I laughed, but I don't care. Neither did I care in the moment. A realisation had just spawned in me. There was only one, only ONE course of action I could take. And it wasn't apologising for wanting to be myself.

"Yes," I groaned. "I changed my mind." I grabbed my tracking suit, shaking it angrily. "I changed, I'm done with this." I tore my hair tie off, freeing a waterfall of golden curls. "I'm done with THIS," and I threw the hair tie to the ground.

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