tagNonConsent/ReluctanceClaire's Career Ch. 08: The Singer

Claire's Career Ch. 08: The Singer


Thanks to GT for suggesting the main theme of this story. I hope my execution of it is satisfactory!


Or rather she sang a Mariah Carey song but in any case, for her, it was the blues.

She'd just lost yet another job. But at least this time it was in no way her fault.

She'd been working as a Magician's Assistant to the Great Phellatio, also known as Kevin, and had been progressing rapidly from a visual prop to an inherent part of his of stage show. Except that he didn't yet have a stage show so they had been performing at children's parties but it had only been a matter of time.

Her relationship with Kevin had been complex and she hadn't disclosed what she had been doing to her boyfriend, not really knowing how to explain. Kevin was a very special magician, one of only a very few numbers of true magicians who could do real magic by contacting the spirits.

Unfortunately he was only able to converse with them when he was sexually aroused and part of Claire's role had been to regularly suck his cock, whilst simultaneously practising her sword-swallowing skills. She had also been warned by the ghost of one of her former acquaintances that Kevin has managed to channel for her that she would had to have sex with him and two of his magician friends, Eddie and Gustav, as much as possible or face dire consequences.

She hadn't really known what 'dire consequences' meant but she was highly superstitious and hadn't wanted to take a chance and so she found herself having frequent orgies with the three of them.

Of course she couldn't really explain any of this to her long-term boyfriend, Danny, because he was rather narrow-minded when it came to the supernatural, being more of a rationalist himself. She also thought he might be somewhat displeased at some of the specific details of her responsibilities. So she hadn't even told him about the job, a good thing as it turned out because she was now no longer employed.

She had been due to meet Kevin at his lockup garage but he'd failed to turn up and had stopped answering his mobile. She'd eventually made contact with his fellow magician, Eddie, one of those with whom she was beholden to have sex to avoid her spiritually augured fate. While being roughly fucked from behind, she'd learnt that Kevin and Gustav had violated Magic Circle rules and were being hunted by their inquisitorial arm, the Vigilante Illusionists, for crimes against magic, specifically for Immoral Magical Exploitation of a Layperson, not that she was clear what this meant.

After Eddie had finished off spectacularly in her hot pouty mouth, he explained they'd both had to leave the country and so she'd lost her job! When she'd asked how she was supposed to have sex with them if they'd disappeared, Eddie had reassured her that when he had last spoken to the spirits they'd confirmed that heaving regular sex with him would be enough to keep her safe. She left, having made a date to see him in a couple of weeks, after he had come back from a family holiday.

Which was why she was now in a karaoke bar with her gorgeous friend, Bianca. She'd wanted to go out and get drunk to drown her sorrows and they'd ended up here after a succession of clubs and a series of attempted chat-ups.

"# Somedaaaaaayyyyyy..." she finished with a huge flourish and powerful final note.

There was applause from across the bar, at least from the group of men who had gathered closely around her as she'd sung. She noticed some of them taking their fingers out of her ears as she ended her song. The speakers were very loud so she wasn't surprised.

In any case, as she staggered back to Bianca, she was congratulated by her male fans with squeezes of her fine arse, hands sliding up her thighs to cup her pussy and some general breast-groping. She batted off their wandering hands, reminding herself for the tenth time that evening that she really shouldn't have warn such a short red minidress, cut low across her expansive freckled bosom and only down to mid-thigh, exposing her stocking tops as she walked. In her early twenties, with a tall curvaceous leggy figure and striking auburn hair, she always seemed to get more than her fair share of male attention.

Her green eyes looked blearily for her companion at the back of the club, finally realising that Bianca was sitting between two well-dressed Arab men, who were fondling her fat brown boobs through her yellow top.

Bianca looked up unconcernedly, to greet her friend. "Hi, Claire. Look who I met! Two of my favourite clients visiting from the Emirates. I've promised to go back to their hotel with them. Do you fancy coming? There's a couple of grand in it for you," she offered.

Claire frowned disapprovingly. Bianca worked as a glamour model and occasional upmarket prostitute, using her stunning curvy body, intelligent brown eyes and smooth dusky complexion to make money. Claire found the whole idea of selling one's body for sex utterly repulsive and couldn't really understand how Bianca could do it.

Still, she was an adult and if she wanted to make a living servicing ugly rich men then it was up to her. Claire herself would never stoop to such debased activity; she was proud of her faithfulness to her boyfriend.

"No, I'm going to go home, just after I get another drink," she slurred turning to the bar.

Within a few feet she walked into an older man with dark glasses and unusually dark hair, possibly a wig. He was wearing a white jersey over his middle aged paunch, black trousers and a thick necklace.

"Hi, babe," he said, taking Claire's hand. "I had to talk to you. Your singing is, um, amazing," he smiled, leaning in close to her. His accent was a bizarre mid-Atlantic fusion.

"Oh, thank you!" Claire gushed happily.

"In fact I haven't seen such an extraordinary rendition of a Mariah track since, well, since I was recording with Mariah a few years back," he said smoothly.

"Wow! You know Mariah Carey? That's amazing! How come?" she asked excitedly, her drink forgotten as he led her to a booth against the back wall of the bar.

"Darling, my name is Frankie Fame. Yes, that's right, THE Frankie Fame. I've been an impresario for years. Not only did I discover Mariah, I produced the 14th Whitney album and I've just signed Suki Doyle from Britain's Got Talent," he pronounced, pulling her down to sit next to him.

"Oh my god! Really! Wow, I'm so pleased to meet you. And you liked my singing?" Claire gushed. She didn't want to admit that she hadn't actually heard of him but she was highly impressed by his collaborators.

"Honey, I can honestly say I've never heard anything like it. I wonder..." Frankie prevaricated, his arm snaking around her to cup her left breast lightly.

"You wonder what, Mr. Fame?" Claire enquired enthusiastically as he squeezed her boob through her dress. She would have stopped him but she didn't want to interrupt his train of thought and virtually every other man she'd met this evening had tried to do the same so she couldn't blame him for copping a feel.

"No don't worry, I need to get off and meet my girlfriend," he said, although he didn't move except to begin groping her with both hands.

"No please, don't go yet," Claire begged. "What were you going to say about my singing?"

He seemed fascinated by her massive tits, although it was difficult to tell through his sunglasses. She thrust them out further to make sure he got a good handful. She didn't want him to go without finishing his musings about her singing.

"Well, what I was going to say," he answered, "was that you have the makings of a star. But really if I don't get off now, my girlfriend won't give me my evening, er, cuddle. And I can't miss that!"

Claire was amazed. A top music producer had just told her she could be famous. She'd always known she'd had a great voice. Her boyfriend worked as a DJ and she'd asked him several times about whether she could make it as a singer but he'd always dissembled, almost as if he didn't like her singing voice. Well she would show him!

But she couldn't let Freddie leave to cuddle his girlfriend without finding out more.

"No, please don't go! I'll cuddle you instead. She needn't find out," she pleaded as he slipped his hands into the top of her dress to caress her enormous norks and pinch her stiff red nipples through her bra.

"Well, that's a kind offer, doll. But when I say cuddle, I mean a lot more than that. She, you know, well she gives me relief, you know. It really helps me sleep," he hinted.

"Does she just toss you off? Or does she give you a blowjob?" Claire asked. "Please don't go yet. I can do either for you too. And I'm really good at giving head," she offered openly.

"Shit! Er, I mean, yeah, babe. She sucks me off. Why don't you show me what you can do and maybe I'll stick around a bit longer."

Claire looked around. They were in a dark booth although there were a few people at table in front of them. However, they were all looking at the stage, watching three drunken businessmen sing, "Delilah."

"Ok," she agreed, licking her lips determinedly, before reaching out to unzip his trousers and pull out his already hard cock. It was of average size but appeared reasonably clean despite the whiff of stale sweat that hit her as she exposed him.

"Ohm, fuck , yeah, baby," he groaned as, steeling herself, she pushed his flabby belly out of the way and bent to give his dick a quick sticky peck at it's tip, followed by a cautious lick.

Frankie moaned before pushing her head down forcefully, sliding his wrinkled cock into her fresh young mouth. "Yeah, that's fucking amazing, honey," he said. "Stay down low so no-one can see."

Determined to please him so that he would stay to talk to her more about becoming a singer, Claire began to slide her red-lipsticked lips up and down his cock, flicking her tongue rapidly over his knob on the upstroke. She repeated this no more than ten times before he spunked messily into her mouth, moaning in pleasure she swallowed his jizz and sucked hard to clean his deflating todger.

Wiping her mouth she lifted her head from his lap. "Was that OK?" she asked apprehensively.

"Oh, yeah, darling. That's was great. You really know how to suck cock," he agreed.

"Oh, thanks! So please, tell me more about becoming a singer."

The next morning, Claire woke with a ludicrously painful hangover and a foul taste in her mouth. She had ended up spending a good hour chatting to Frankie and had even sucked him off again when he had hinted at leaving before the evening had finally ended.

She had arranged to meet him today to do some testing in his home studio to see if she had what it took to become his latest protégé.

She couldn't believe she'd been so rude that she'd actually fellated him in a bar but, in her drunken state, she hadn't been able to think of another way to keep him there. Still they'd begin today on an entirely new footing, her antics of the previous night forgotten.

By the time Claire had found Frankie's house, her hangover had subsided to manageable proportions. For a successful record producer, his house seemed somewhat ordinary but she supposed that some people didn't necessarily want all the trappings of stardom.

Frankie, still wearing dark glasses, seemed really pleased to see her and even gave her a hug, his lecherous hands wandering to squeeze her high tight buttocks although Claire pushed him away politely, determined to be professional.

She wandered through the luridly decorated living room to get to the studio at the back of the house, noticing several pictures of Frankie with various famous singers including some runners-up from X-Factor and even one of the lesser-known Osmond brothers.

The studio was more of a back room with various bits of decrepit recording equipment. When Claire commented on the age of the gear, Frankie explained that it was all high-end stuff that he'd kept because of its great quality.

"Right, honey first we need to get your voice relaxed. Why don't we try some scales first?" He suggested.

Over the next twenty minutes, Claire tried various different singing exercises, putting as much effort as she could into her voice causing Frankie to pull various faces in astonishment at her fabulous singing voice, she assumed.

Eventually he stopped her, shaking his head. "Claire, I can honestly say you have a truly unique voice. But something's not quite right. I'm just wondering whether you're singing maybe a touch too nasally. You need to get your voice right out from that amazing chest of yours. Here let me show you."

He stood behind her and reached around to grasp her breasts firmly.

"Oh!" Claire squeaked surprised by his sudden groping. "Erm, should you really be feeling my tits right now?" she asked tentatively, not sure why he was squeezing her boobs.

"It's fine, I'm just trying to improve your singing. Now give me a C," he ordered.

Claire wasn't entirely sure what a C really sounded like but tried her best as he groped her enormous fat boobs.

Frankie still wasn't satisfied. "That was a bit better but it's still not right. I know there's more potential in your voice. I know, let's try it without your bra."

"What! What do you mean?" Claire said indignantly.

"I think your bra is constraining your voice. Your breasts feel really firm so I can't imagine you really need one much anyway. I want to hear your voice unfettered. Otherwise how am I going to make you into a star, honey?"

Claire thought about this, eventually nodding. She expected that Madonna had had to overcome many challenges in her early singing career too.

Unfortunately she's chosen to wear a dress today, a green wrap-around affair which left a deep v-neck to showcase her substantial bosom.

With a sigh, she untied her belt and slipped out of it, revealing her matching black bra, thong and hold-ups.

"What about your girlfriend? She's not due back any time soon is she? I wouldn't want her to get the wrong impression," she said as she carefully folded her dress and placed it on a nearby chair.

Frankie stood in front of her, his mouth slack in wonder at her body. She often had this kind of effect on men when she undressed in front of them so she wasn't surprised.

"Girlfriend?" he eventually answered. "Oh, yeah, my girlfriend. Er, she's had to go out of town, so she won't catch us, I mean walk in on us. Go on, get them out," he encouraged.

Claire nodded and reached behind her back to release her bra catch causing her suddenly unfettered breasts to surge forward although not down.

As she pulled the bra away, Frankie's mouth opened even further at the sight of her high red nipples and colossal creamy tits.

When he hadn't moved for a few seconds, Claire nudged him, "Shall we try again?"

Frankie sprang into action. "Oh, yeah. Of course. Just go through those scales again."

Claire began to sing and only gasped slightly when Frankie came up behind her again to grab her enormous boobs and massage them roughly, occasionally pinching her nipples.

"Yeah, baby. Oh, yeah," Frankie moaned into her ear. "That's a lot better. You feel, I mean, you sound good," he said.

Claire clapped her hands happily and bounced up and down, causing her tits to spill out of Frankie's groping hands. "Oh, good!"

"Keep going, honey. I'll just keep hold of these babies to see if I can improve your voice any more."

Claire kept singing for the next half an hour whilst Frankie mauled her breasts and rolled her stiff nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Eventually, her voice beginning to tire she came to the end of Dancing Queen with a cough.

Frankie turned her around in concern although his hands slipped back to her bosom. "Are you OK? We have to be really careful not to damage your vocal chords," he said anxiously.

"Oh," Claire croaked worriedly. "Shall I have some water?"

Frankie nodded and went to get her a glass. Claire thought about putting her bra back on but by the time she'd resolved to do so, Frankie returned and put his hands back on her norks. She sipped the water gratefully.

"Here, why don't you kneel in front of me and I'll look down your throat," he said sitting down in an armchair.

Claire nodded gratefully and knelt down between his open legs, turned her face up and opened her mouth to allow Frankie to peer down it.

"Hmmm, it doesn't look to bad but you're going to have to keep it nice and moist. Water's OK but it doesn't work as well as the traditional way to protect your voice but, well, no, don't worry," he said.

Claire was intrigued. "No, don't stop, what do you mean, traditional way?" she prompted.

"Well, I read a paper by Professor Hermann Schlongsauger of the International Institute for, er, Vocal Singology that talks about how some top singers, such as, um, Kylie Minogue and Amy Winehouse, use the high protein direct delivery method of, um, throat lubrication. But I'm not sure you'd want to try it," he finished, shaking his head.

"No, really! I want to give it a go!" Claire begged. "Please tell me how to do it." She was determined to do whatever it took to look after her vocal chords. After all how else would she ever become a famous singer?

Frankie cleared his throat. "Well, darling, apparently the best possible way is to apply fresh human semen directly to the area to be protected three times a day. It seems that sperm has the perfect balance of protein and nutrients for effective long-lasting vocal durability."

Claire was amazed. Whoever had thought of such an idea! Still if someone like Professor what-ever-his-name-was from the Institute of Singology was recommending it then it must the right thing to do. And if the method was good enough for both Kylie and Amy then it was good enough for her.

"So all I need to do is to suck off my boyfriend three times a day and swallow his spunk and my voice will be fine?" she asked, thinking how pleased Danny would be at the means of treatment, not that he yet knew anything about her singing career.

"Um, well, it depends on how long his penis is. Actually the jizz needs to be spurted directly onto the right place so you would have to be able to overcome your gag reflex. If his cock is too long or too short then it just won't work."

"Oh! Well, he's just bit smaller than average, I'd say," she said blushing. She couldn't believe she was talking about her boyfriend's cock with a record producer.

"So maybe a touch smaller than me? Hmm, well that probably won't be big enough, babe. Tell you what, why don't we try with me and we'll see if we can get it right."

Claire smiled up at him appreciatively. "Oh, thanks so much, Frankie," she said reaching for his fly.

Frankie's cock was as she hazily remembered from the previous evening, of average size, pink and slightly wrinkled, and already almost stiff.

"Lick it, honey," Frankie ordered and she gratefully obeyed, her lithe tongue flickering around his bulbous knob. Once she was satisfied that he was completely erect, she made a tight ring with her moist lips and slowly slid her mouth down most of his length stopping as he hit the back of her mouth. She slid back up again and then repeated the manoeuvre preparing herself to deepthroat him the final two inches.

Frankie though, no doubt trying to be helpful, grabbed her head and pushed it down, forcing her to swallow him completely before she was ready. "Just a bit further. Oh yeah, that's good. There, it's all in. How far down is that?" he grunted

Claire, slightly surprised at the sudden violation of her throat, couldn't in any case speak because her mouth was just so full of cock. However, she pointed to a spot half-way down her neck to indicate just how far in he'd gone.

"That's perfect, doll! Luckily I'm just the right size," Frankie stated joyfully before going back to manhandling her huge knockers and Claire gave him the thumbs-up, trying to smile around his penis. "Now all you need to do is make me come!"

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