Violett Beane - Paying with Pussy

DISCLAIMER: this story is a work of fiction and does not in any way reflect the actions or thoughts of Violett Beane. It is written for the enjoyment of those who read erotic material and I do not make any money from writing it.

This story uses some of the same characters and the same general concept as Noj's "Jessica Alba -- Paying with Pussy" (which he wrote at my request) and he is aware that I wrote this story. At the same time, you don't need to have read his story to understand this one, but I highly recommend you do, cause it's an awesome piece of writing.

Now, on with the story!

-

"Hi, I'm Violett Beane and I'm paying with pussy!" the stunning, brunette actress said straight into the camera, a wide, sparkling smile on her flushed face as she knelt naked on the floor.

-

THE PREVIOUS DAY

"... so I told that dude I would only date him if he got rid of that weird haircut first!"

Violett barely heard her friend Kate finish her tale about her on-set flirt as she pushed around the pasta on her plate. It was the second week of shooting on location and while the high-end hotel's kitchen was fantastic, the actress could not find enjoyment in what the chef had put together for her tonight as her mind was pre-occupied with different things. And it did not escape Kate either.

"Hey, earth to Violett!"

"Huh?!" she lifted her gaze from her plate, seeing the chiding look of the make-up-artist whom she had quickly befriended while on set. "Oh, sorry, Kate... um... what a douchebag!"

Kate cocked an eyebrow. "For asking me out? Yeah, how dare he..." she laughed, "Where were you just now? Trouble in paradise?"

The actress sighed. "Yeah... Paul called again!"

"... and he's still stuck on his song and is pissed off." Kate concluded, rolling her eyes. Violett's boyfriend's musical career had been a hot topic for several evenings now, his frustrations souring the brunette's mood.

"Nope, he wrapped it up actually. Sent me a tape too and it's fucking amazing!"

"Oh?!" Kate's brow furrowed. "That's great! Then what's the issue?"

"His career..." Violett sighed, putting down her fork, "He's frustrated that he doesn't get more successful. He's so talented, but I guess it is just tough... you need luck to be successful."

"Well, you could maybe shoot some more music videos or..." the blonde make-up-artist suddenly fell silent, her eyes widening as an older man had just entered the restaurant. Violett glanced over, made curious by her friend's reaction.

The man was in his forties, a broad-shouldered powerful physique and dressed in a fine silk suit. He had the aura of an old lion as he made his way past their table towards the seats at the window that overlooked the city's skyline, signaling to the bartender with a brief nod.

Violett looked at her friend, who seemed utterly mesmerized. "Daddy issues?" she mocked.

"No..." Kate replied quickly, still staring unabashedly at the man, "Well, could you blame me?"

This caused her to laugh. "Too old for me," she grinned before leaning in. It wasn't like the bubbly blonde to get this distracted, "What's the deal here, Kate?"

Her friend finally tore her eyes off the man to look at Violett. "You don't know who that is?"

"No..."

"Oh, alright," Kate leaned forward across the table in a conspirative manner, glancing sideways as if to make sure they weren't listened to, "You ever heard of Mr. Russell?"

"Mr. Russell?!" Violett repeated with an exasperated gasp before dropping the act, "No, who is that?"

"He's a businessman. And a sort of urban legend I guess... The whisper around Hollywood is that he has some huge pull. Basically, he can grant wishes." Kate ignored Violett's look of skeptical amusement. "People say that he makes deals with famous women. He can basically get them whatever they want, from what I hear..."

"Oh, nice!" Violett grinned, almost sure her friend was messing with her.

"In return, he has the women shoot porn movies for him."

"You're fucking with me!"

"I'm not. And apparently it's not just some tame, boring Paris-Hilton-sextape stuff either. I heard he has them shoot some legit porn stuff. I'm talking anal, threeways, facials... the whole act. And you'd be surprised who made deals with him..."

Violett's smile disappeared as she tried to read her friend's demeanor. For a moment, she believed Kate was going to crack a grin and tell her it was all just a joke, but that didn't happen. "Are you serious?!"

"That's what I heard."

"No shit..."

The blonde shrugged before she turned back to her omelet, seemingly forgetting about the man as quickly as that. Meanwhile, Violett couldn't help but keep glancing over at Mr. Russel, sitting by the window, sipping his whiskey as he began reading a book.

-

Nervously, Violett chewed on her lower lip as she entered the restaurant again. Kate had disappeared in her room and Violett had walked with her, pretending to do the same before she made her way back to the restaurant.

The big, luxurious dining hall was emptying at this point as it got late and, to her relief, a quick scan of the room confirmed that nobody from the movie set seemed to be around. She really didn't want to be seen doing this.

The big, broad-shouldered man sat in an armchair next to one of the floor-length windows that overlooked the ocean. On the table in front of him, seemingly forgotten, stood a tumbler of whiskey, the two ice cubes gradually melting as Mr. Russell looked to be completely immersed in the book he held in his hands.

Swallowing hard, Violett pushed herself to move. Her knees felt shaky as she slowly made her way across, eyes fixed on the person she was here to talk to. She was here to do this. She would do this.

"Um Mr. ... Mr. Russell?!" she shocked herself by how weak her voice sounded and immediately her cheeks blushed as she stood in front of him. The man looked up from his book, a slight smile forming on his lips as he saw the nervous young woman standing in front of him. He slightly inclined his head to the side, signaling his attention.

Violett coughed. Damn, why was this so hard? She knew that she could still bail on this stupid plan, that she could just turn around and walk away. But she wouldn't. She'd go through with this. "M-my name is Violett Beane. I am an actress..."

"The Flash!" Mr. Russell interrupted her calmly, a smile on his face as he recounted some of her projects "Flay, God Friended Me, Truth or Dare, The Leftovers. Of course I am aware of who you are. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Beane! How can I help you? Would you like to sit down?" He pointed to the armchair opposite to his. "Would you like a drink?"

Violett was truly taken aback by the friendly, warm tone in the man's voice. With all Kate had told her about what he did she had imagined him to be skeevy, sleazy. His deep, calm voice and the slightly amused smile suggested a friendly respectfulness instead. Slowly she took the offered seat, forcing herself to take a deep breath.

"Thank you," she declined the offered drink, returning the smile. She tried to find her words to continue, but found herself stumped. She felt like a deer in headlights. Her mind blank, she opened her mouth with no words coming out.

Mr. Russell gave her a sympathetic smile over the rim of his reading glasses. "Violett, if it helps: there usually is only one reason a stunning young woman approaches me with your degree of nervousness. I am assuming that you would like a favor from me and that you are aware of what a favor of mine costs. Am I on the right track?"

Violett nodded, thankful that this first, high hurdle was taken.

"Very good!" Mr. Russell said. Picking up his tumbler, he took a small sip of the whiskey, taking a second to savor the taste before resuming. "So, Violett, what can I help you with?"

"My boyfriend!" Violett replied, clearing her throat. She shifted in her chair, sitting up straighter as she found her words. "My boyfriend Paul, he's a musician. He is really good, but so far he has not managed to catch his big break. He has been struggling for several years now and lately he has become more and more frustrated. I hear you are very influential and I thought that you might be able to help. I'm not asking you to make him a superstar or anything, but I was hoping that you'd... well... get him a shot?!"

The big man took a second before he replied, seemingly considering her words. "You are here for your boyfriend?! That is very selfless of you, Violett. I assume he does not know that you are here?"

That made her snort. "Oh, fuck no! He doesn't know and he will never know. I was told that what I would be doing would be completely confidential and this would never come out."

"Of course, of course!" Mr. Russell nodded, taking another sip of whiskey, "Paul will never find out! I can make some calls and arrange some things. What is it musicians want these days? I can offer you some increased traffic from some media companies that I hold stakes in, advertise his projects more widely. If we do it gradually that will look to him like a natural rise in popularity. Once he has reached a certain level, I can organize him some gigs as opening acts for some quality talent. If he does well, that can really get some eyes on Paul and he will believe he made it happen all on his own. What do you say, Violett, is that the kind of shot you were imagining?"

"That sounds... great, actually!" Violett nodded, stunned by how quickly she had gotten an offer that was legitimately better than anything she had hoped for.

"Perfect!" Mr. Russell smiled before leaning forward in his chair, "Now, about your side of the deal..."

She bit her lower lip, her heart sinking as the conversation took a turn she had been dreading.

"All you need to do is give me a couple of hours. I will set something up, all you have to do is show up and do what is asked of you. A video will be shot of you performing sexual acts. That video will be available to a certain elite clientele, but you have my word that the public will never know about this. Are those terms acceptable to you, Violett?"

Her heart raced. She was thankful that Mr. Russell had not used crass language, making her feel less dirty, but nonetheless the meaning was the same. Again, her throat was dry. "Y...yes!" she croaked.

"Perfect!" Mr. Russell smiled again, his voice still perfectly warm. Finishing his whiskey, he set the tumbler down on the side table with a 'clank!', "Tomorrow, 4 o'clock, that suits your shooting schedule, right? Very good! Room 452. I will set up a contract so that you have security. Wear something you feel pretty in. Do we have a deal?"

Wide-eyed, Violett looked at the hand that was extended to her for a moment. She did not trust her voice enough for a reply, so she simply nodded as she shook on the deal. After all, this was what she wanted.

Mr. Russell smiled, a satisfied look in his eyes. "Perfect!" he said again, rising from his chair, "Now, apologies, but I will not be present tomorrow. In the morning I will send by a doctor for a little medical check-up. It's just a formality, but a necessary one. You will also receive your contract then so you have security in writing. Then, a very trusted associate of mine will organize everything on location, but if there are any issues whatsoever just have him call me, alright? Perfect! Anyway, it is time for me! I wish you a good night of sleep and I hope that you will have a good day tomorrow! It was a pleasure meeting you, Violett!"

With that, the big man picked up his book and left as Violett stared after him, still not able to fully grasp what she had just done.

-

As Violett raised her hand to knock on the polished, wooden door to room 452 a feeling of unreality had spread through her body. She felt the shot of vodka she had taken just as she had left her room in her belly, but it did little to settle her nerves.

She had woken up to a knock on her hotel room door and a young woman, explaining herself to be a doctor in the service of Mr. Russel had entered the room, handing her a coffee and giving her a moment to catch up. Violett had received a physical exam as well as a gynecological inspection, testifying her general health and sanctioning her for the day's activity. The doctor had brought with her a contract for her to sign and as Violett had read through it, her heart once again raced.

Not only did she agree to star in a smut flick, even if it was just for a select audience, but she also agreed to be dominated. She was requested to deliver a specific opening line and after that the contract detailed sections about oral and vaginal sex, but she was also agreeing to anal sex! She had never had anal before and the thought increased her nervousness tenfold. Still, the carrot that went along with the stick was ultimately too good to be true. If she agreed, Paul would be successful. So she signed...

The day had blazed by way too fast. Working her scenes, Violett had found herself constantly checking the time, feeling a sense of dread as the hours melted away. She still could hardly believe the deal she had made with Mr. Russell, knowing what she would do for her boyfriend.

Nonetheless, a small part of her felt something different than worry, was legitimately excited about the prospect of starring in a porn video. The thought of getting fucked in front of a camera, for a bunch of people to watch was legitimately scary, but a part of her couldn't help but look forward to what was definitely going to be an intense, sexual experience.

She had gotten back from shooting at around three, feeling her nerves as she quickly headed to her room and got into the shower where she diligently made sure to remove all hair from her neck downwards, shaving her pink pussy completely smooth as well as doing her legs and her armpits, leaving not a hint of stubble.

She had toweled herself dry, applied lotion and used a nice perfume that Paul had gotten her for their last anniversary that smelled like vanilla and sandalwood. She applied some light make-up, opting for more of the natural look with a bit of mascara and a subtle shade of lipstick before scouring her suitcase for an outfit that would fit the occasion. Her options were limited and she certainly had not packed anything with this particular purpose in mind, but ultimately she had found a short, plaited skirt that showcased her long legs, reaching only about midway down her thigh and was tight enough to also accentuate the curve of her hips. She paired this with a dark blue top with a white zipper, which she had left halfway undone to display a nice amount of cleavage as well as a strappy pair of sandals she loved: with a slight heel they were both stylish and comfortable and went great with the sexy attire.

However, it was the next layer underneath that posed a problem. None of the underwear she had packed was intended to wow and she neither had the time to buy a new pair nor did she want to show up to this occasion with some plain, boring panties. Ultimately, Violett had decided to do the only sensible thing: she skipped the underwear.

Now, standing in front of the room door, Violett was hyper-aware of her nakedness as she felt the cool air against the bare, soft lips of her pussy. She wasn't used to going commando like this, but then again she also wasn't used to shooting skin flicks and a part of her that she had never really explored too much really enjoyed that sensation. This feeling contrasted with the overwhelming sense of nervousness that made her entire body shiver.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. Her hand clutched the small purse she had taken with her which only contained her phone as well as her room key.

Raising her fist, she knocked on the door.

For a second, nothing happened, then Violett heard rustling sounds on the other end, waking a sudden impulse to just bail and run, but before she could even think about following through, the door opened.

"Hello, Violett!" the man opening the door smiled as he saw her before stepping aside to let her in, "Right on time, please come in!"

"Thank you!" Violett heard herself reply and followed the invitation. The room she entered was a rather basic one. Dominated by a king-sized bed, the only other furniture in the room were two armchairs and a small table on which both a photo and a small video camera were laid out, as well as a laptop, a box of tissues, some bottles of water and a bottle of lube. One door next to the entrance led to a small, adjoining bathroom, another one led out to the balcony where she could make out the outline of another man, leaning against the railing with his back to her.

"My name's Steve, I'll be your director and camera-man for today's shoot!" the man who had opened the door for her said.

"V... Violett!" she replied, biting her lower lip nervously before remembering her manners and putting on a polite smile.

The man laughed. "You're nervous. Don't worry, that's completely normal. Tends to go away once we get into it. Just let me know whenever you need a break and we'll be fine."

"S... so is there a script?" she asked as she put down her purse on the small table and turned back towards Steve, who chuckled.

"Not in the way that you think," he grinned as he tucked the papers away into a folder which he slid into a suitcase. "Apart from your opening line which was already specified in the contract, you just follow my directions and we're good. Think of it like an improv class. It will be easy!"

Violett nodded. "So is this... Are we just gonna start?"

"Well, yeah... unless you have any further questions?!" Steve smiled, "I'll just introduce you to your co-star for today and we are off to the races."

He gestured and the man from the balcony stepped back into the room. Violett's eyes widened slightly. She had expected some super-muscled up porn Adonis, maybe a bit sleazy looking, or maybe a guy about her age. The man that came towards her was at least twice her age. Grey-haired, with a wrinkled, sun-tanned face and a short, stubbly beard he was definitely old enough to be her dad. He was dressed in a pair of blue shorts and a white button-up shirt that was unbuttoned and hung open to reveal a thick, yet powerful body with a bit of a gut. He approached her with a smile on his face and an extended hand.

"Well, hello there! Aren't you a hot little thing!" he grinned in a thick, southern accent, "I'm George Allhard! Nice to meet you!"

Still a bit stunned by this reversion of her expectations, Violett stared at him for a second before she managed to take his hand. "V... Violett!" she replied, briefly glancing over to Steve to make sure this was not a practical joke being played on her, but the cameraman gave no such indication, "N-nice to meet you!"

The older man laughed. "Guess I'm not the kind of guy you were expecting, honey, huh?!" he walked past her and dropped into one of the armchairs, "Hope that doesn't freak you out too bad..."

"Uh, n-no!" Violett replied, quickly shaking her head as she realized just how rude she was currently being, staring at this man like he had two heads. "I'm sorry, I'm just new to this and I wasn't... I guess I'm just super nervous!"

George winked at her. "Well, no worries... I think it's safe to say that I am the lucky one out of the two of us!" He gave her a quick once-over, something that Violett under normal circumstances would have considered to be incredibly rude, but this situation was so entirely surreal that she did not care, "I watched some of your work on the flight over. Looking forward to working with you, Violett!"

The implication of the compliment made her grin and blush slightly. Nobody had ever told her that he'd like to fuck her quite in those words. All of this was just messed up.