Sold To The Devil

Jazmine had spent the last few days hiding her tears from Clea. She cried a lot about Jared being recast, knowing just how important that movie was for him and his career. She couldn’t shake the guilt, replaying the events over and over in her head, wondering what she could have done differently. Each text to Kyle filled her with guilt, feeling like she was messing everything up. The plan to be Jazmine had always been a long shot, and now it felt like she was making it impossible.

Today, she sat at her vanity, finishing her casual makeup for the day. She had meticulously applied a lightweight foundation that evened out her complexion without feeling heavy. She used a light dusting of translucent powder to set it, ensuring her skin looked flawless yet natural. Her eyebrows were filled in with a soft brown pencil, giving them a slightly arched shape that framed her face perfectly. She applied a hint of peach blush to the apples of her cheeks, adding a subtle glow to her face. Her eyes were highlighted with a warm, neutral eyeshadow, with a touch of shimmer on her lids to make them pop. A thin line of brown eyeliner along her upper lash line and a coat of mascara on her lashes completed the look. Finally, she applied a nude lipstick that gave her lips a soft, natural color.

Her outfit for the day was carefully chosen to be versatile, ready for whatever Clea might throw her way. She wore a fitted, light blue blouse with short sleeves, the fabric soft and breathable. The blouse had delicate lace detailing along the neckline, adding a touch of femininity without being overly flashy. She paired it with a white, high-waisted, pleated skirt that hugged her curves and fell just above her knees. The skirt had a slight stretch to it, making it comfortable yet flattering.

Underneath, she wore a matching set of white lace lingerie. The bra was a push-up, giving her cleavage a boost and adding to the illusion of her FemmePro-enhanced figure. The panties were a thong, the delicate lace contrasting with the practical purpose of hiding her real self. The FemmePro prosthetic, as always, was securely in place, a constant reminder of the role she was playing.

She slipped on a pair of nude ballet flats, comfortable yet stylish, and looked at herself in the mirror. No jewelry today, keeping her look simple and elegant.

Her mind drifted back to the texts she’d been sending to Kyle. Every message filled her with apologies and self-doubt, but she had to sound like nothing was wrong with his eager girlfriend.

Clea’s voice echoed in her head, the harsh words from their confrontation still fresh. “You’re a cock-hungry slut, Jazmine. You got turned into a girl for fame, but all you’ve done is turn into a whore.”

The memory made her wince. She had tried to explain to Clea that Jared had misunderstood, that she had to play along, but Clea hadn’t listened. She had only berated her, reminding her of the consequences if Kyle found out.

Jazmine took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Today was a new day, and she had to keep moving forward. The shooting had taken a break for a couple of weeks due to logistical issues and Jared’s recasting, giving her some time to regroup. She had spent most of the time since the last shoot crying in secret, trying to avoid Clea as much as possible.

Her bedroom had become her sanctuary, a place where she could let her guard down and allow herself to feel the emotions she had to hide during the day. The guilt and shame weighed heavily on her, and she often found herself wondering if she was doing the right thing.

“What if I had done something different?” she thought, staring at her reflection. “What if I hadn’t let things get so out of control?”

But those thoughts were pointless. She couldn’t change the past, only move forward. And today, she had to be ready for whatever Clea had planned.

As she finished her makeup and stood up, smoothing out her skirt, she felt a surge of determination. She wasn’t going to let this setback destroy her. She had come too far to give up now.

Jazmine headed downstairs, finding Clea already in the kitchen, sipping her coffee. Clea looked up, her eyes scanning Jazmine from head to toe. “Good, you’re ready,” she said, her tone brisk. “We have a lot to get done today.”

Jazmine nodded, grabbing her own coffee. She took a sip, the familiar taste of the special brew mixed with HRT filling her mouth. She had grown accustomed to it by now, no longer questioning the strange addition. It was just another part of her new reality.

“Let’s get going,” Clea said, already moving towards the door. Jazmine followed, her mind still swirling with thoughts of Jared, Kyle, and the uncertain future ahead. But for now, she had to focus on the task at hand. There was no room for mistakes, no time for second-guessing. She had to keep going, no matter what.

As Clea drove, the tension in the car was palpable. Jazmine glanced at Clea, whose eyes were fixed on the road, her jaw set. Clea was in full business mode, and Jazmine knew better than to break the silence.

After a while, Clea spoke, her voice sharp and focused. “We have a meeting with Michael Kors today. They’re interested in you for their new collection. But there’s a catch.”

Jazmine’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s the catch?”

“Michael Pinero,” Clea said, her tone laced with disdain. “He’s Kors’ right-hand man. Difficult personality, to say the least. He’s known for being... challenging.”

Jazmine nodded, feeling a knot form in her stomach.

They arrived at the Kors headquarters, an imposing building with sleek, modern architecture. The lobby was just as impressive, with polished marble floors and minimalist decor. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the space. The receptionist, a polished woman with a tight bun and a sharp suit, greeted them with a professional smile.

Clea led the way to the receptionist, a polished woman with a practiced smile. “We’re here for a meeting with Mr. Pinero,” Clea said.

“Of course, Ms. LaCroix,” the receptionist replied, her tone professional. “Please head up to the tenth floor. The meeting room is the second door on your right.”

Jazmine followed Clea to the elevator, her mind racing. The ride up was silent, the soft hum of the elevator only amplifying her anxiety. When they arrived at the tenth floor, they stepped out into a corridor adorned with contemporary art and plush carpeting. The atmosphere was luxurious and intimidating.

They found their way to the designated meeting room, a large space with a long, sleek table and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city. Michael Pinero was already there, leaning against the table with an air of casual dominance. He was a tall, imposing man with sharp features and an inscrutable expression.

“Clea,” he said, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent of menace. “Glad you could make it.”

“Michael,” Clea replied, her tone icy. “Let’s get down to business.”

The tension between them was palpable as they sat down, Pinero’s eyes flickering to Jazmine before settling back on Clea.

“So, we’re discussing terms for the new collection,” Clea began, pulling out some documents. “We’re looking for a partnership that includes a significant advertising campaign, social media integration, and exclusive appearances by Jazmine.”

Pinero listened, his expression unreadable. “And what do we get in return?”

Clea didn’t miss a beat. “You get exclusive rights to use Jazmine’s image, extensive promotion through her channels, and a boost in sales from her fan base.”

Pinero leaned back, a predatory smile on his lips. “Sounds reasonable.”

The meeting continued, the negotiations becoming increasingly tense as they discussed specific terms, including Jazmine’s schedule, the content she would produce, and the financial arrangements. Despite her discomfort and inner turmoil, Jazmine complied, enduring the degrading encounter.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally came to an agreement. Clea stood up, her expression cold. “We’ll have the contracts drawn up and sent over by the end of the day.”

Clea and Jazmine sat stiffly in the sleek meeting room. They’d settled most of the terms for the new collection’s campaign, but Pinero’s demeanor had shifted, and his gaze kept flickering towards Jazmine in a way that made her skin crawl.

Pinero leaned back in his chair, a predatory smile playing on his lips. “You know, Clea, it’s quite remarkable how far you’ve come. But success often comes at a cost, doesn’t it?”

Clea’s eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at, Michael?”

Pinero chuckled darkly. “Just that I’ve heard things. Things that could be very damaging if they were to come to light.”

Jazmine felt a chill run down her spine. She glanced at Clea, who maintained her composure, though Jazmine could see the flicker of unease in her eyes.

“What do you want, Michael?” Clea asked, her voice cold.

Pinero’s gaze shifted to Jazmine, making her stomach turn. “I want a private conversation with Jazmine. Alone.”

Clea’s jaw tightened. “We’ve agreed to the terms. There’s no need for anything else.”

Pinero stood up, his smile widening. “Oh, but there is. And if you want to keep your little career intact, you’ll let me speak with her.”

Clea’s eyes flashed with anger, but she nodded curtly. “Fine. Jazmine, stay here. I’ll be outside.”

As Clea left the room, Pinero’s demeanor changed entirely. He walked over to Jazmine, his presence overwhelming. “You know, Jazmine, your career is just beginning. It would be a shame if something happened to derail it.”

Jazmine’s heart pounded in her chest. “What do you mean?”

Pinero leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. “I mean, if you want to keep your little dream alive, you’ll do exactly as I say. Starting now.”

The threat was clear, and Jazmine felt her resolve crumbling. The memory of her encounter with Jared flashed in her mind, the guilt and humiliation still fresh. She couldn’t afford to make another mistake, not with so much at stake.

“What do you want?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Pinero’s smile was cruel. “You know what I want. Take off your clothes.”

Her hands shook as she began unbuttoning her light blue blouse, the fabric feeling heavy against her skin. She slipped it off, revealing her matching white lace bra, the push-up cups enhancing her cleavage. She hesitated, but Pinero’s glare urged her on. She unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor, leaving her in her lacy thong.

“Good girl,” Pinero murmured, his eyes roaming over her body. He reached out, his fingers tracing the edge of her bra before roughly pulling it down, exposing her breasts. “On your knees.”

Jazmine dropped to her knees, her mind numb with fear and shame. Pinero unbuckled his belt, pulling down his pants to reveal his erect cock. He grabbed her hair, guiding her head towards him.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

She obeyed, her lips parting reluctantly. He pushed his cock into her mouth, the taste bitter and unpleasant. He began thrusting, his grip on her hair tightening as he set a brutal pace. She gagged, her eyes watering, but she **** herself to endure it, knowing she had ****.

“Take it all, you little slut,” Pinero growled, his voice harsh.

Jazmine’s mind raced, filled with guilt and disgust. She thought about how she’d messed up with Jared, and now she was degrading herself again. But this time, it was for Clea, for their plan. She had to survive this.

Pinero pulled out, roughly yanking her to her feet. With a forceful turn, he pushed her against the polished wooden wall, her thong hastily shoved aside, leaving her exposed and ****. The coolness of the surface sent a shiver through her as his fingers grazed over her FemmePro, eliciting a mix of discomfort and dread.

“I knew you’d enjoy this,” Pinero sneered, his tone laden with malice.

Jazmine clenched her jaw, fighting back the urge to protest or plead. Instead, she closed her eyes tightly, steeling herself against the impending invasion. His cock pressed against her entrance with unyielding ****, and she bit down hard on her lip to stifle any whimper that threatened to escape.

The sensation was overpowering, the synthetic intimacy of the FemmePro failing to shield her from the harsh reality of the act. Each thrust was a brutal reminder of her compromised position, her body used as a pawn in a high-stakes game she never wanted to play.

Pinero's grip on her hips tightened as he hammered into her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, a mixture of shame and helplessness clouding her thoughts. She felt exposed, degraded, and utterly alone in her turmoil.

“You’re nothing but a cock-hungry whore,” Pinero taunted, his voice dripping with contempt and satisfaction.

Jazmine's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to maintain her composure. She kept her gaze fixed on a point on the far wall, her mind a whirlwind of self-recrimination and **** attempts to justify her actions. This wasn't her. This couldn't be her.

But amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions, she found a thread of determination. She had to endure this, for Clea, for their shared future. She couldn't afford another misstep, another setback that could unravel everything they had worked so hard to achieve.

Pinero's thrusts grew more frenzied, the rhythm of his **** pushing her closer to the brink of emotional collapse. With a final, forceful push, he released inside her, his grip on her hips bruisingly tight as he rode out his climax.

Panting heavily, he withdrew, leaving Jazmine to straighten herself against the wall, her movements mechanical and detached. She adjusted her bra, pulling it back up, followed by putting on and smoothing down her blouse, avoiding Pinero's gaze as she struggled to regain some semblance of control over her trembling limbs. She quickly zipped up her skirt around her waist with shaking hands.

“Remember this, Jazmine,” Pinero's voice dripped with condescension, his words a cruel reminder of her compromised position. “If you want these campaigns, you’ll do as I say.”

Jazmine nodded numbly, her throat constricted with unshed tears.

As she left the room, Clea was waiting for her, a look of concern in her eyes. They walked in silence to the car, the weight of what had happened pressing down on Jazmine like a leaden blanket.

Once they were back in the car, Clea's expression softened as she turned to Jazmine, concern etched across her features. "You did well in there, Jazmine," she began, her tone gentle yet firm. "But we need to talk."

Jazmine nodded silently, her mind still reeling from the encounter with Pinero.

Clea sighed, running a hand through her hair. "What happened with Jared was... really fucking stupid. He's a co-star, Jazmine. Word spreads like wildfire in this industry. But," she paused, meeting Jazmine's eyes with a mix of sympathy and resolve, "what you did today, it was different. Sometimes, you have to do what it takes to survive. Even if it means... sucking it up, quite literally."

Jazmine looked away, her throat tight with shame and self-loathing. She had never imagined herself in this position, compromising her integrity and self-respect for the sake of a career.

Clea continued, her voice low and steady. "I'm not saying it's right. God knows, I wish there were another way. But we're playing a dangerous game here, Jazmine. And sometimes, the rules aren't fair."

Silence hung heavy in the car as they drove through the city streets. Jazmine's thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and regret, yet amid it all, a small ember of determination flickered.

Clea glanced over at her, her expression softening further. "Listen, you're stronger than you think, Jazmine. We've come too far to let one or two... unpleasant incidents derail us."

Jazmine nodded faintly, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. She knew Clea was right. They had invested too much, sacrificed too deeply to turn back now. Despite the shame and degradation, she had to find a way to compartmentalize this experience, to steel herself against the storms ahead.

As they pulled up to home, Clea turned off the engine but made no move to get out. She looked at Jazmine with a rare vulnerability in her eyes. "I need you to trust me on this, Jazmine. We're going to navigate through this mess. Together."

Jazmine met Clea's gaze, finding a flicker of reassurance in her mentor's eyes. "I trust you, Clea," she said quietly, surprising herself with the conviction in her voice.

Clea nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. "Good. Let's get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, we regroup and plan our next move."

Jazmine nodded in agreement, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil. She stepped out of the car, the cool evening air washing over her, a stark contrast to the heat and shame still lingering on her skin.

Jazmine stood outside on the driveway, staring up at the night sky. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and compromises, but for now, she allowed herself a moment of quiet resolve. Tomorrow would bring new battles, but tonight, she would find solace in the fleeting peace of the night.

With a deep breath, Jazmine turned and walked towards the entrance, her mind already racing with plans and strategies. Whatever came next, she was determined to face it head-on, guided by the **** acceptance of the harsh realities of their chosen path.

But there was a nagging thought that she had already sold her soul to the devil.