I'm A Slave for Dark AngelbyEvil Alpaca©
Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The author is not trying to claim that any of the actors whose names are used do/would behave in the fashion described in this story. Please do not redistribute this story without the author's permission.
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When you are on top of the world, it seems everyone wants to knock you off. At least that was the impression Britney Spears had while driving around in her limo. She had been the queen of teen pop for three albums. But she was no fool. She had tried her first acting gig in the film "Crossroads," which was released to less than spectacular reviews. Critics had gone into a frenzy. There is a tendency in the entertainment business to assume that if someone was trying to cross genres, it was because they didn't think they could cut it in their original occupation anymore. True, a few stars of music, movies, or television had been had been able to cross over successfully, but no one was giving Britney any chance of joining that elite club. She was just a "pop-princess" or a "flavor of the week." Three platinum albums and people still thought she was just going to vanish into thin air whenever the winds of popularity shifted. She was determined to make them eat their little arguments.
She had her agent constantly looking for other ways for her to show her skills. Even she wasn't thrilled by her performance in "Crossroads," but she felt she had learned a lot. And her agent had gotten her a guest spot on the hit FOX series "Dark Angel." She was thrilled. First, she was a fan of the show. She had like the influx of strong female characters, and the whole post-apocalyptic world was visually appealing to her. And secondly, she was going to get a part where she could hit people, which seemed like the most natural thing to do at the moment. Every time she threw a punch or a kick, she was going to imagine one of her critics right in front of her. That thought made her feel good all over.
"We're here maaaaaam!" chuckled her driver.
"Oh, hush!" She requested this driver a lot because he never let her take herself too seriously. She was comfortable with him, and there weren't a lot of people she could say that about. She had been bitching about not being treated like an adult, and he had started calling her "ma'am" all the time. She needed to remember to thank her limo service again.
She was met at the car door by about twenty executives with different levels of schmoozing ability. Occasionally, she hated being important. She was ushered into the studio, where yet more schmoozers surrounded her. She was actually beginning to feel a little trapped. Some of them were complimenting her clothing (which at this point was a pair of jeans and a sweat-shirt), others were telling her how happy they were she was there, and others were telling her everything she was going to need to know about the show at a rate that would have given a super computer a headache.
"O.K. vultures! Back off!"
Britney looked around. She saw Jessica Alba, the dark-haired star of the show approaching the mob of people with a wooden chair held out in front much like a circus lion-tamer might use.
"Back! I'm just a whip away from getting medieval on your asses!"
The entire crowd started laughing. Jessica grabbed her by the hand and quickly led her away. They entered what appeared to be the wardrobe room, and her savior closed the door behind them and locked it.
"Sorry. I meant to be there when you arrived. The executives around here have been drooling ever since they found you were going to be on the show. You know how those types can be."
"You're not kidding. They give jackals a bad name." Britney found herself grinning like a dork. She liked this girl.
"Well, you're dressing room is right next to mine. We have about an hour until the first read-over for this episode. Then we have a meeting with the stunt-coordinator. He's going to give you an overview of the fight sequences. We actually start training tomorrow, then filming begins the day after that." By this point they had arrived at their dressing rooms. Britney was more than just a little relieved to know she would be near Jessica. Even the rich and famous can get nervous, and she already felt a bond growing with the raven-haired beauty.
"So," Jessica continued, "I hear you've asked to do your own stunts. What's up with that? I HAVE to do them, otherwise the regular viewers will start complaining about discrepancies. But you don't have to. It would be hard to find someone in as good as shape as you, but I'm sure they could come up with a double."
"Nah. I've always wanted to try doing stunts, and there are a lot more roles available out there if you are able to do action pictures."
"True. Just make sure you have plenty of Advil and an appointment for a massage set up," Jessica said as she opened the door.
Britney suddenly became very nervous. "What do you mean?"
As the other girl disappeared from view, two things came to Britney's mind. The first was that she might have bitten off more than she could chew. The second thing was that Jessica Alba looked damn good in black-spandex. Britney realized long ago that wearing spandex was a privilege, not a right, and many people wore it when they obviously shouldn't. But Jessica had a flawless body. And the bicycle shorts she was wearing left little to the imagination. Britney tried hard to free her mind of that image. Although she was attracted to members of the "fairer" sex quite often, she generally was able to repress those urges. She was still somewhat attached to Justin Timberlake. Besides, if she openly started the bisexual thing, the comparisons between her career and Madonna's would start up again, and she was sick of hearing about it. She was influenced by Madonna; she wasn't copying her.
Two days later, Britney fully understood what Jessica meant. After a single training session, she felt like every appendage on her body was going to fall off. She was lying on the floor of her dressing room waiting to die when Jessica walked in.
"Oh shut up," Britney groaned as she made a vain attempt to sit up. Realizing she had no strength left, she quickly succumbed to gravity a second time.
"Do you need aspirin or something?"
"Actually, I need a new pair of legs, a new set of arms, and a lead pipe."
"Yeah. To beat YOU with for letting me do this."
"You did ask," Jessica said with a smirk.
"Don't remind me. Actually, I managed to take some pain-killers, but they don't seem to be helping."
"Well, if you lie there too long, it'll be ten times worse tomorrow. Try doing some stretches."
Britney wasn't in the mood to move, much less stretch. She was an experienced enough dancer to know that what Jessica was saying was good advice. But good advice often comes too little, too late."
"Here," Jessica said. "Roll over. If you can manage, that is."
"Hah hah. Where is my lead pipe?" The two girls started to giggle uncontrollably as Britney managed to roll over onto her stomach, looking like a fish flopping around on dry land in the process. Jessica kneeled next to her and started massaging Britney's legs. She seemed to know what she was doing, and Britney quickly began to feel some of the tension in her muscles escape.
"You have exactly 100 years to stop doing that."
"Well, I'd better use my time wisely."
Jessica had managed to relax most of the muscles in Britney's legs, and had moved up to her shoulders. In order to get a good grip, she had straddled the young pop-star's back. Oh shit, thought Britney to herself. A good back-rub, feeling comfortable, and a very attractive girl straddling her back. Think of Justin . . . Think of Justin . . . Think of . . . Just a little to the left . . . No wait! Think of Justin!
"Feeling better? You look a little flushed."
Think quick! "I feel much better, thanks. I guess my circulation is just getting going again." Nice save. NOT!
As lame of an excuse as it was, Jessica seemed to have bought it and stood back up. Even though Britney was trying to convince herself that it was for the best, she still felt a lingering sense of lust.
"Listen, I gotta go," Jessica said. "I've got some . . . errands to run. Are you going to be okay?"
"Sure." Jessica sounded a little weird. Britney was suddenly concerned that the other girl sensed Britney's real feelings and was wigged out. She cursed herself as Jessica vanished through the adjoining door to her dressing room. Man, she thought. This is going to be a long couple of days. She didn't know how right she was.
The next several days were a serious physical strain. Luckily, Jessica seemed just as friendly as that first day, so working was still fun. Britney took note of her condition after the first day and made it a point to stretch every morning. Jessica even joined her for these morning workout sessions. But all the stretching in the world can't completely ward of injury. After a couple days of shooting, Britney found herself face first on her dressing room floor again. After debating with herself for a few moments, she realized she really needed and wanted a massage.
"What?" came the muffled response from next door.
"Any chance of getting a helping hand? Or maybe two helping hands?"
There was a brief pause. "Sure, just give me a minute."
"No problem. I'm not going anywhere. Mostly because I can't move!" She heard Jessica laugh, then she plopped her head back on the ground.
"Okay. Where does it hurt this time?"
"Everywhere," she said, and turned her head to look towards the door. Britney suddenly became very nervous.
Jessica Alba, the ass-kicking chick from Dark Angel and fantasy girl of many, was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a skin-tight pair of bicycle shorts (which looked awfully familiar) and a sports bra. Her medium-length dark hair was falling loose around her shoulders. And that angelic face . . . and those permanently pouty lips . . . those lips . . .
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. If this is a bad time . . ."
"Don't even think about it. You are getting a rub-down." With that, Jessica was straddling her back and had her hands on Britney's shoulders. Any thoughts of resistance packed their bags and left town. Britney was completely in the Dark Angel's power.
"Is there anything your hands can't do?"
"I haven't heard any complaints yet."
Britney could practically sense the other girl smile. And she suddenly felt very warm. Oh no. Not again!
"You're looking a little flushed. And you're sweating!"
Britney couldn't argue. She was wearing her typical relaxation clothes, which consisted of sweats. Of course, all she had under them was a black-lace thong and a matching black-lace bra. Even while relaxing, she liked to feel a little sexy. Right now, she was wishing she had worn something more sensible. Like thermal underwear and a raincoat.
"Why don't you take that sweat-shirt off? You don't need it in here, and it makes it hard to get at your shoulders."
"But . . ."
"No 'buts' about it. Stick your hands forward."
Britney obeyed. She was beginning to feel like she was in a daze, but she also knew she didn't want this to stop. Wait, think of Justin . . .
Jessica pulled Britney's shirt forward and off.
"See, isn't that better?"
Britney couldn't argue. Jessica's strong hands on her bare skin . . . What had she been thinking of before? She was feeling so utterly relaxed. She realized she was also more than a little aroused.
"I said flip over. Your hamstring is still feeling a little tense. I know a way to loosen it up."
Britney flipped over. Her dirty-blonde hair spread out like a fan beneath her. She found her chest heaving, her lace-clad breasts thrusting prominently in the air. Oh man, she thought things were moving quickly.
Jessica lifted one of Britney's legs over her shoulder then leaned forward, slowly pushing the girl's leg towards her body. Their crotches were, at several points, lightly rubbing against each other. Britney was looking up at the other girl's face, which was slightly obscured by her hair and by shadows.
"I . . . I think that leg has loosened as much as it is going to."
"No problem," Jessica said, and quickly switched legs.
Britney was practically panting as Jessica pushed down against her. She felt her panties growing steadily wetter, and was afraid it would spread outward to her sweat-pants. She had been proud of her flexibility, but Jessica was pushing her to her limits. At one point, her leg was pressed all the way back against her chest. She looked up and saw Jessica's face just inches away from her own. Again Britney couldn't quite be sure through the curly locks of Jessica's hair, but she thought the girl's face had an expression of . . . well . . . lust. Oh no! Just then, Jessica leaned forward a little more, then kissed her.
A million thoughts ran through the mind of Britney Spears. Justin. Her career. Her family. One thing that didn't cross her mind: breaking that kiss. Sweaty! Salty! Delicious! Then just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over, and Jessica was standing and heading toward the door.
"Wha . . .?" was all Britney could manage with her head still spinning.
"I'm sorry. That was stupid of me. I'll get out of your hair now . . ." She started struggling with the door that led to her dressing room. Apparently, it had locked itself when she came over to give Britney the massage. "Well there you go. Embarrassed and trapped. All I need now is actual physical injury and I will have capped off the single stupidest moment of my life." With that, she headed toward the main door of Britney's room, only to find the young pop diva firmly entrenched in her way.
"Unh unh. No way out until we talk about this."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to screw up our friendship. Its just I've always been a little 'bi-curious,' then you show up with your tight little body . . . Then I started to like you: your weird sense of humor, your laugh, your spunk. And then I just started to want you . . ." Jessica was just babbling at this point, but for all Britney knew, she could have been reciting poetry or the secret to cold fusion. Britney realized the other girl had basically confessed to being in love with her. She had always questioned other peoples' "confessions" of infatuation. Most of them just wanted a piece of ass they could brag about for the rest of their lives, or their version of love was only slightly grammatically different from the textbook definition of obsession. She had even questioned Justin's interests. She had often felt that the two of them were only together because that is what young pop-stars are "supposed" to do. She was pretty sure he wasn't always faithful on his tours, but she had accepted that this was the way things worked in the entertainment business. That is, she had accepted it until that moment. Suddenly, all she could think about was this beautiful girl, and those lips . . . Those full, delightful, delicious lips.
" . . . so please don't hate me. It'll never happen again," the other girl finished.
Britney made up her mind. "The hell it won't!" With that, she wrapped her arms around Jessica's waist and kissed her for all she was worth. After a brief moment of confused tension, the dark angel returned the kiss. For what seemed like hours, the two girls explored each other's mouths with their tongues. Jessica had Britney pressed up against the door, and Britney wrapped her legs around her friend's waist. The grinding got so intense that the door began to creak.
"We better move this show before we have to start charging admission," Jessica said. "Unless you're having second thoughts?!?"
"Hmm, let me think . . ." After pursing her lips and looking toward the ceiling in a deliberate attempt to look like she was actually contemplating backing out. After letting Jessica panic for a moment, she grinned, encircled the other girl with her arms, and stuck her hands down into her bicycle shorts where she grabbed a double-handful of gloriously hot ass.
"Oh yeah," Jessica moaned as she role her face skyward. Keeping Britney's hand in her shorts, she maneuvered one of her hands around to the front. Britney wasted no time, since Jessica had apparently forgotten to put on underwear, in fingering the girl's pussy, which was soaking wet by that point. Jessica moaned some more and pushed Britney's hand more tightly against her swollen mound.
"I . . . I think we should move this to my dressing room. Comfortable . . . (pant, pant) . . . day-bed."
"Whatever you say," returned Britney, who gave Jessica another quick finger, then withdrew her hand. The two girls poke their heads out the door into the hall. It was empty.
"I'll go first. Follow in about a minute."
Jessica quickly vanished into her dressing room, but Britney didn't hear the door shut completely. Smart thinkin' girl! She counted the longest sixty seconds of her life, then hurried down the hall. Once inside, she didn't immediately see where Jess had gone. Then she heard the door click shut behind her, and felt her sweat-pants slide downward. She tried to turn, but felt a pair of hands on her bare legs hold her steady. She looked over her shoulder to see Jessica (who had been hiding behind the door) on her knees, naked as the day she was born. Britney couldn't help but gasp. Jessica was beautiful; a layer of soft, beautiful skin over an athlete's body. Meanwhile, the other girl was admiring Britney's ass. The black lace thong she was wearing seemed to perfectly frame each golden cheek. Britney pulled her feet out her sweat-pants and kicked them away, spreading her legs to giver her friend a better view.
"So, like what ya see?"
Jessica's response was straight and to the point. She reached one hand between Britney's legs and started to massage the girl's pussy through the moist, silky fabric of her thong. She used her index finger to trace the outline of her mound, then her lips, then she started running it up and down the entrance. With her other hand, she managed to undo the girl's bra, which Britney let fall to the floor. She started gently kissing that beautiful ass, first one cheek then the other. Then, her tongue explored the crack of the ass. With Britney's tits now liberated, Jessica used that hand to push the back of the thong a little to the slide. Then she began eating her friend in earnest. She started with Britney's perfectly-shaven pussy, which smelled and tasted as sweet as Jessica could have imagined. She would occasionally let her tongue dart to Britney's little pink asshole. She noticed the pop-queen seemed to almost buckle at the knees whenever she was being rimmed.
Britney wasn't sure how long she would be able to remain standing. Jessica's tongue was feeling as magical as her lips had earlier. And Jessica had found her weakness. Britney had long been a closet anal-freak, but no one, not even Justin, had been willing to do what her dark-haired friend now did so willingly, which was to tongue her ass.
"I've got to get off my feet," she said, looking longingly toward the day bed Jessica had mentioned earlier.
"Not a bad idea."
Britney, somewhat reluctantly, strode toward the bed. She hooked her underwear with her thumbs as if to take it off but Jessica piped in "Leave them on." Britney looked over her shoulder to see Jessica grinning sheepishly. "Sorry, but I love the way your ass looks in those."
Not a problem." Britney intentionally put a little more swing in her step to give the best show she could, then she turned and lay on her back on the bed.
Jessica had to admire Britney's body for a moment. While she was aware that the softness of her skin was one of her most desirable features, Britney was all muscle. A dancer's legs, a perfectly sculpted ass, a washboard stomach, and one of the cutest sets of tits she had ever seen. She didn't much care if they were store-bought breasts or not. They were perfect on that body.