Creeping into reality - Chapter 2

The next morning, Drew does not wake up. The next afternoon, she does not wake up either. She does not wake up until the last rays of the sun disappear behind the horizon.

She wakes up feeling better than ever. She stirs lazily in her bed for a while. The memory of the previous evening is triggered by the discovery of her little helper under the sheets. A hand over her slit encounters a pleasant dampness. She would like to probe herself for a while, even maybe have some quality time with the small toy but she knows she has to get up, she has to go to the party.

In the bathroom mirror, she looks at her teeth, the prothesis are still there, looking more real than ever. For some time, she plays with them, biting her lips, passing her tongue over them... damn she looks hot.

She feels **** to take them off. She wonders: what bad is there to keep them while she showers?

The warm water on her body is exquisite. Unintentionally, she lets the shower stream massage her intimacy a bit too long. Feeling the birth of an unintended orgasm, she hastily turns of the water. This is not her. She is known for self indulgence but she is not a Nympho, las night session should have covered for at least a week. She needs a drink. She steps out and clumsily, still soaked, walks to her bar. A bourbon straight up. A second one. A third. She shivers feeling better already.

She goes back to the bathroom to finish her shower and get ready. A full hour later, she takes her car to go to the party. The place is not far.

But blue and red lights stop her not half a mile from her place. Shit, the three bourbons will not look good on her record. If they dig, she might even do jail time and that will definitely fuck her career.

“Miss? Licence and registration please.”

She takes the papers out of the glove compartment and hands them to the police officer.

“Miss, would you mind stepping out of your vehicle?”

For the first time, she looks up. A weird connection takes hold when their two gazes meet.

“I am sorry officer, but is there a problem?”

The man seems to hesitate. He looks troubled.

“None whatsoever, now move along.”

Drew watches the patrol car drive away. What the hell was that? She wonders. She lights a cigarette and absentmindedly she starts sucking on the fangs she completely forgot to remove. What was that delicious smell? And why was she so suddenly attracted to that man? He was not even hot...

Throwing her cigarette butt out the window, she starts the engine and drives to the party.

This is an end of shooting party, not movie launch gala. No journalists, no fancy dresses, just co-workers getting together in order to celebrate the good work. The production privatized a small restaurant on Hollywood drive. The parking lot is already packed when Drew finally arrives.

She steps out into the warm Californian evening. Despite having taken place just a few minutes ago the police incident is already forgotten. Drew is here to drink, party and have a good time with some nice people. She walks to door and finds Jim, the make up artist, smoking a cigarette outside.

“Miss Drew!”

“Hey,” she answers.

“So...”

“So...”

“Ahem...”

“Hum... mind if I have one of those?”

“Hum, no, not at all...” he answers handing his pack.

She takes one and lights it.

“They look hot!”

“Who does?”

“The fangs...”

“The fangs? Shit! I forgot to take them off.”

She starts pulling on them.

“I thought, you wanted... I don’t know, keep the mood of the movie going...”

“I... Jim... They don’t want to come out...”

“Let me try...”

He puts his fingers in her mouth.

“Wait... those are not mine and I don’t know what glue you used but they seem to be stuck...”

Drew is not really listening to him anymore, well not exactly, she is listening to his heart beat not his words. The warm fingers in her mouth seem to vibrate under her teeth. A little voice in her head is telling her to bite down. She pushes him away, ashamed.

“I swear those are yours and I did not use any glue... I was having a drink last night, I tried them on and then... I fell asleep...”

“Let me have another look.”

She opens her mouth. He bends over taking his phone out to get more light.

“Definitely not mine, these are amazing, they seem to be coming out of your gums as if they were real... if this wasn’t Hollywood, I would start to be afraid,” he finishes laughing.

Drew looks at him puzzled.

“Swing by the office tomorrow morning, I’ll have a closer look, until then enjoy your evening Miss Lugosi...”

“O... ok...”

“See you later...” he says stepping back in the restaurant.

Cigarette on the edge of her lips, she looks at the closed glass door in front of her. In it, she sees the parking lot behind her, she sees the cars passing by and the hills behind, she sees the valet parking checking his phone, she sees her cigarette burning, she sees everything except for one thing... herself. No it cannot be, she thinks as she forces her way in.

The most delicious fragrance hits her nostrils as she enters. A fragrance she smelled on the cop and on the make up artist, only this time it is ten times stronger. A weird coppery aroma, she finds surprisingly enticing. She stops a second to collect her thoughts.

“Drew!”

The director is rushing towards her.

“Drew! It’s wonderful you showed up. I just finished checking the rushes and this is going to be the best movie of the year, if not the decade. Miss Berry, you should definitely get ready for the Oscars next February. I was talking to the producers and they definitely want to film an after credits scene with you. I’m not promising anything but I think they want to do a sequel based on your character! How about we meet tomorrow at lunch to discuss this? We are going to be big. I mean you are going to be big!”

Harry Woodalsten is one of the most proéminent directors of this year’s Hollywood nouvelle vague. He is young, dynamic, his movies have a style, he is able to work with intimate dramas, three of his previous movies won a price at Sundance, but he is also capable of working with big studios in rom-coms, action and sci-fi flicks. He did not get his big hit yet and that is why Drew managed to land the role but everybody predicts it is just around the corner. His rant goes on fo a while.

“... love the fangs by the way, it shows true commitment to the part, enjoy the party and don’t drink too much.”

As he arrived, he leaves, already busy planning his next project. To which Drew might be part of... A big vampire and pirates trilogy. This could be good, she thinks. She walks to the bar.

“A bourbon neat.”

“Coming right up.”

Damn, she is thirsty. The glass lands in front of her, she knocks it back. The bartender refills it. She turns around and looks around the room, four bourbons and she is not feeling the effects yet. This is weird.

The evening goes on, people come to see her, they chat. Drew has identified four types of people in these social events: some of them are simply being nice, others have made a connexion with her during the shooting, others are awkward fans and the last ones have an interest in being seen with the lead actress. The vast majority fall in the third and fourth category but fame is part of her life since she was four and she does not mind anymore. What actually bothers her most are those weird sexual impulses that keep coming back each time she is close to someone. Tonight, she feels attracted to literally everyone she speaks to, from the computer geek to the old costume designer, everybody. Drew wants to have sex with everybody, kiss and fuck and suck and bite. Yes, bite; the thought keeps creeping back.

Around eleven thirty after her sixth or seventh bourbon, Drew follows a good looking intern from the arts department into the bathroom. The stench of piss is strong but the coppery smell is even stronger. Back to the door, Drew cannot take her eyes from the nape of the girl’s neck. Not reflected in the mirror, the young woman does not see the actress behind her. She does not see the hunger in her eyes, the painful sour-face, the inner conflict. Fighting against everything she seems to have become, she manages to leave the girl alone.

“Is someone there?” The girl asks to the closing door not knowing how close she has come to meet an untimely end.

Back in the parking lot, in her car, Drew tries to gather her thoughts, head resting against the wheel.

“Miss Berry?”

She jumps. Jim stands by her car.

“Are you all right? You seemed agitated all evening.”

“Get in!”

He pauses for a second, walks around the car and sits by Drew’s side. Not thinking straight, she pulls out of the parking lot and drives recklessly towards her penthouse.

Twenty minutes later, she is pouring herself another bourbon while the technician is sitting in her large couch.

“Not that I mind being here, Miss Berry, but what are we doing?”

She empties the glass and turns around.

“I don’t know, I really don’t know... but you gave those to me so you are going to help me get rid of them, them and everything that comes with it.”

“To please you is my only desire, Miss Berry, but you will need to be more specific.”

“I’m talking about the fangs, Jim! The fucking fangs that won’t come out!”

“The fangs? Mistress Berry, what is it with them? They look really hot on you, why on earth would you want to get rid of them?”

“Why? Because I cannot go on with my life with those, and because they are changing me... Wait a second, did you just call me Mistress?”

“I don’t know, did I? Yes... I think I did, it might have slipped, I am not feeling exactly myself right now, the drinks certainly...” he laughs. “So you were saying that the fangs are changing you, I am sure it’s for the best Mistress Berry.”

“Stop calling me that...”

“Okay... no need to be so rude... so tell me what can I do for you?”

“I don’t know, I want them out, I want my reflection back... I want...”

“I need my tools to get them out, they are at my office, if you want I can go fetch them.”

“No... wait... stay... hold me please... I’m scared...”

“As I said, anything for you, Mistress,” he says standing and walking to the actress.

She looks at him, sheepish, she accepts the strong arms surrounding her head and shoulders, she closes her eyes, cradled by the smooth rhythm of his heartbeat. His presence slowly appeases her confusion, the blurring mist in her mind starts lifting.

“I know what I want. Come with me,” she says taking his hand and guiding him to her bedroom.

She seats on the edge of the bed.

“Take off your pants...”

He does.

“Take off your boxers...”

He does.

“Move closer...”

He does.

She runs a hand inside his thigh. Moving up, it teases the balls and wraps around the shaft. She strokes him until he is fully erect. Then, slowly, she parts her lips and, bending over, she takes the warm shaft inside her mouth. A shiver runs down both their spines. She takes it all the way in and, creating a vacuum, slowly pulls out.

“You taste good, Jim...”

“Thank you Mistress Berry, I am glad you like it.”

Her tongue starts running all over the rod, the balls, the inner thighs until the shaft naturally finds its way back between Drew’s lips. She sucks and nibbles for some time, drinking all the pre-cum he gives her. Soon, he will be done, she can feel it. Still stroking, she lets go off him again and goes back to the groin.

“Are you ready to give me everything?”

“Yes...”

“Good,” she says sinking the fangs into the sweaty flesh.

He comes. A powerful stream of jizz splashes on her face and hair. The sucking on his groin goes on and his orgasm too. The longest he ever had. She does not let him go, not even when his legs fail him and he crumbles to the floor. The pleasure is intense, overwhelming, terrifying. He faints.