Hollywood Entwined

Daisy was impressed by the penthouse apartment above the bright lights of the Sunset Strip. She was also impressed by the man who lived there.

“Make yourself cozy, Daisy. I’ll get us a couple of drinks. I’m always a little tense after a long day at the office. You have no idea what goes into playing a Hollywood exec all day long. You actors just have to recite your lines and look pretty. You get told what to do every step of the way. Imagine playing a part when you have no script.”

Daisy sat down on an enormous velour couch the color of butter and watched him. His words didn’t interest her especially, but she liked his deep voice and American accent. And his movements enthralled her—the way he went to the bar and put together martinis like they were a puzzle he was cleverly solving.

There was an air of candor to Novak. He’d taken off his jacket, unbuttoned his cufflinks, loosened his tie, and now he was the one thing out of sorts in the big apartment, surrounded by luxurious furniture, expensive paintings, and aging sculptures—all the more impressible for how decayed and fragile they looked.

He reminded Daisy of a bored king slouching in his throne, so used to all this luxury that it became a mere backdrop to his every thought and action. It was as if some pricey designer had put together the whole place to impress company… showing Novak’s good taste and lavish bank account, but also that he had no time for frivolities. As long as the place was up to his standards, he could ignore it—all his attention going to his guest and the novelty she brought with her.

He was handsome as hell too, his eyes a deep sparkling blue and his white teeth all shining. His face was lean and long, his chin squared off with a deep dimple. When he eyed her, Daisy melted.

“You’ll never have better,” he promised Daisy, handing her her drink.

She sipped at it cautiously, wanting to go along with Novak’s whims, but not get too loose. She needed to be poised. Natalie Portman and Emilia Clarke were in town and she knew Novak had met with them. It wouldn’t be too crazy for him to pivot to either of them as the face of Star Wars—Disney was capable of anything as long as they thought they’d make a buck.

As long as she was attached to Star Wars, Daisy was a hot ticket, able to throw her weight around and put some real juice into her projects. But if they parted ways with her, she’d be one more hustling has-been, aging and damaged goods, having to fight the perception that something was wrong with her to lose the franchise. So whatever Novak wanted from her, she’d give him. No amount of dignity was worth her career.

“Drink up, love. You’re letting me lap you.” Novak went to pour his own drink from a tall glass pitcher. “Of course, I imagine you could regale me with tales of how hard your life is, but that’s not what you’re here for, now is it? I hold the purse-strings, so I get to have the complicated life and you get to smile and look pretty.”

“I guess we’re both here for what we’re good at,” Daisy said with a pretty smile, hoping she wasn’t being too bimboish for him. She could do with some reassurance. She knew men like Novak were expert at that kind of gladhanding.

“And you do look good,” Novak told her, easily able to see her need and attend to it. “Shame my predecessor didn’t do much with that. You’re a real looker, but those movies you were in… dead below the waist. They should’ve made you a sex symbol. You at least could’ve shown up at one of the premieres in something memorable. Like Jennifer Lopez at the Grammys. Angelina Jolie at the Oscars.”

Daisy decided to play things demure now, a little needy. “You really think I could look as good as them?”

Novak laughed and sat beside her, his arm naturally lining up with her shoulders. “You’ve got a fine body and your face is cute as hell. But I wonder if a dress like that wouldn’t wear you instead of you wearing it. J-Lo, Angie, they’re women, you know. They could command the stage even if they had to go out naked. I don’t know about you though. Men want to fuck you, sure… men would fuck a goat if you poured enough perfume on it. But let’s pretend Natalie Portman were here, and she were begging for cock. How many guys would pick you over her?”

Daisy tried to keep a good-humored smile on her face, but she could feel how fraught it was. “I don’t know… I’m younger than her… I, I…”

“Emilia Clarke then. You’re about the same age. But all those nude scenes she’s done. Those tits, that ass… I’d love to know what it would be like with her. Wouldn’t you?”

“She’s quite pretty,” Daisy allowed. “But there’s something to be said for mystery, for the unknown. I’ve never done a nude scene, so wouldn’t you love being one of the only people—”

Novak rode over her. “Didn’t you play a naked corpse in some Brit show? Yeah, that’s what I mean about not being a sex symbol. People know what you look like naked, but as a dead body. Natalie Portman could be playing a literary agent, but I’d remember her playing a stripper. And she was a real slut in Black Swan. Masturbating, fucking Mila Kunis… I can’t picture you there.”

“I could do an erotic thriller,” Daisy insisted, her voice cracking a little. “It’s just that no one makes them these days. Barely anyone puts out R-rated pictures at all!”

Novak tapped a finger on his kneecap. “But you could.”

“Yes!”

“Alright. Let’s test that. We’re going to perform a little one-act play here. If you can sell it, I’ll consider you a sex symbol. If you can’t…” Novak waved dismissively.

Daisy looked into her dark eyes and smiled impishly. When she spoke, though, her voice was more determined than sensual. “I’m certain that I can play any part you see me in. Please believe me. I’ll do whatever it takes to give a good performance.”

Novak seemed so delighted with her drive that he kissed the tip of her small nose. “You sound like you’d be one hell of a scene partner.”

Daisy dropped her hand to his lap. “Try me.”

He laughed. “I’m no actor, Daisy. But I know a few.”

He clapped his hands.

Emilia Clarke came out first. All of her lush, milky-fleshed body was on display—framed by a golden bra and a loincloth that fell down to her bare feet. Anklets, the same shiny gold as her bra and girdle, circled her slim calves.

She was the picture of Princess Leia after being enslaved by Jabba the Hutt… although, if anything, her body was even more sensational than Carrie Fisher. And the way she carried herself was pure sex: her beestung lips radiating a hunger to be touched, her eyes limpid and on the verge of a flashfire into lust. Even the slight disarray of her dark hair made Daisy wonder if she was freshly fucked; a little fun had with her before Daisy arrived to see Novak.

Natalie Portman came from the other side of the room. She was dressed in the same bra, loincloth, and anklets as Emilia. Although not as generously endowed as the other actress, she moved her petite body like she knew every sinful fantasy it inspired and she was titillated by all of them.

Daisy found her eyes locked to the woman’s every scintillating movement, finding something fetishistically perverse in such a role model and childhood hero now dressed so depravedly, slinking to the center of the apartment as if each move were a sex act. Daisy was convinced that Natalie was getting off on this—that she found it deeply erotic to be dressed this way, to be seen this way. To convey with a delicious smile that her time as a respected actress was all a façade and the real her was a sultry slut. Eager to finally act on all the shameful urges she’d knowingly instilled while pretending to be above it all.

“You’re overdressed,” she told Daisy, her honeyed voice making the stunned woman feel like moaning. It was so… so sexy.

“And so are you,” Emilia said, dropping into Novak’s lap and happily playing with the unbuttoned flap at his shirt collar.

“Let’s get Daisy changed,” Novak suggested. “Emilia, dear, take my shoes off?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Novak,” Emilia cooed. “I love to serve.”

Daisy smiled grimly, reminded that despite all the decadence, this was still work. Novak was a man surrounded by beautiful women—he was waiting to be impressed by her.

Still, she rallied, gratified and resolved. Her dreams were coming true. At least she had a shot at advancing her career. She just had to impress Novak, and he’d given her an opportunity that most women never had. Through him, she could make herself the star those stupid movies should’ve made her a long time ago.

In short order, she was back from the dressing room Natalie had taken her to, now wearing her own Slave Leia outfit. She didn’t get any sort of underwear. The bra was, as if by magic, fitted to her measurements, while the girdle was just that. A golden belt straddling her midsection, with cloth falling down to cover her groin and hindquarters. If a strong gust of wind pushed it out of the way, she would be entirely on display. Daisy doubted that was the case for the original Leia, but it did make her feel sort of sexy. She was a harem girl performing for a wealthy, attractive sultan—if she couldn’t commit herself to such a role, such a fantasy, than she wasn’t much of an actress.

Daisy strutted back into the main room to find Emilia sitting on the arm of Novak’s chair. She’d unbuckled his belt and lowered his fly. Inside his exposed briefs, there was a huge bulge. Daisy could see it throb and she nearly stopped in her tracks.

Thankfully, Natalie made it seem all part of the show. Following behind Daisy, she now pressed herself to Daisy’s shoulder blades and wrapped her arms around Daisy’s taut tummy, stroking where the low-slung girdle let her have delicious access to Daisy’s tender pubis.

“Daisy takes very good care of herself,” Natalie said, in a voice that virtually caressed Daisy when it was going right into her ear. Her fingers traced Daisy’s abs. Her lips kissed Daisy’s shoulder. “Are you going to take care of her too?”

Novak patted Emilia’s thigh. “Sorry, Emilia, I’ve been neglecting my other guests. Why don’t you pick out a record to play while Daisy and I get to know each other? Natalie, you come into the bedroom with us. Show her what to do.”

Daisy heard a satisfied exhale from Natalie. “I love teaching other women. It’s so important for us to support each other, isn’t it?”

It was the kind of thing Natalie would say in any interview or press conference, but never with so much smuttiness in her voice. Daisy shuddered. It was so wrong—in the most luscious possible way.

Novak came up to his feet. Never taking his eyes off Daisy’s body, he dropped his trousers together with his briefs. Daisy felt a twinge go through her. Novak’s cock was huge and getting even bigger, angling out from his crotch above bloated balls.

“Isn’t that a beautiful cock, Daisy?” Emilia simmered, running her hand over it before she walked away to Novak’s record collection. “Remember to share. I want my turn with it.”

“Me first,” Natalie said. “After watching Daisy change, I so need to come. Novak could put it in my ass if he wanted to.”

Daisy wanted to say something nasty herself, but nothing came to mind. She was too overwhelmed by this orgy exploding around her. She could only look Natalie in the eye and say “You’re going to fuck me too, right?”

Natalie bit her lip, evidently aroused by what little innocence Daisy had left. “Honey, let’s just see how long that costume lasts. Novak might want to fuck you in it, but Emilia and I will want all of you that we can get.”