Some Time to Dye (Emilia Clarke)

A man with the ability to stop time gets used to having power over people. Timothy Stoop was no different; he was used to using who he wants, when he wants. He usually does it anonymously, by the obvious means. He was the reason a lady’s ass would suddenly hurt or her mouth would suddenly have a funny taste. He existed as an unseen, malicious (he would claim mischievous) power. But, Tim didn’t know how to dye hair.

This was a frustration for Tim because he loved Daenerys Targaryen. Emilia Clarke was fine, but he wanted the character and Emilia just looked too different as a brunette. This mild inconvenience would not stand. It was enough to draw him out of specter territory and into acknowledging his existence.

Emilia was home, alone. Tim paused time. He pushed her over on the couch, yanked down her yoga pants, and went to town on her ass, like normal. But this time when Tim finished, he didn’t clean up. He left her face down, ass up and covered in cum with a note taped to her face.

“You have 1 week to dye your hair Targaryen blonde. After the week is up, there will be consequences. Every time you leave your house as a brunette, you will receive a facial by the time you return home. Comply or your reputation will be ruined.”

Tim left before he restarted time. He was true to his word about giving her time to carry out his instructions, but it only took a couple hours before he started to worry about the note he left. He knew no one had his DNA, but he had watched enough cop shows to be wary of what a handwriting expert could deduce. So, he went back and took the note.

Unfortunately, this had a gaslighting effect on Ms. Clarke. She started to doubt if anything had actually happened to her. So, she didn’t make a hair appointment, instead she made one with her shrink, an appointment for sometime next week.

—--------------------------------

She was in his office. She just finished telling the story as she recalled it, waking up to a mess and the note. She looked up to her therapist for input.

“So, do you think I’m going mad?”

“No, you are not. I’m sure of that now”

“How can you be so sure? Isn’t everything I told you fantastical, beyond belief?”

“I thought so, but uh… look Emilia, there is no easy way to say this, but uh.. you have cum on your face that wasn’t there 10 seconds ago. I thought you would notice it or I would have mentioned it immediately”

Her hands instinctively flew to her face and smacked into a sticky situation. Her hands retracted and she held them away from her as she looked down at them in shock.

“I think we need to contact–”

The therapist suddenly had an apple in his mouth. He took it out and fruitlessly looked around to find the culprit. Instead, he saw a note on his desk which he grabbed to read

“Doc-

A mysterious, powerful has entered your life. Things can get better for you or much much worse.

Just get her to dye her hair. It’s really not much of an ask”.

Reality shifted for him again. The note was gone from his hand instead both his hands were full of his client’s naked boobs. She was wrapped up by him with her ass pressed into his crotch. Her top lay on the ground, crumpled and damp; it had been used to clean off her face. An extension cord was tied around the pair, circling their torsos and pinning his arms, with a solid knot holding them in place temporarily. Emilia would have to be the one to untie them. Unfortunately, her first instinct was to struggle and wiggle trying to get out. It had no effect on the cord but did have an effect on Doc, as the star was essentially giving him a standing lap dance, rubbing her ass all over his crotch. He was a good man, but not a eunuch, and stiffened under her failed efforts.

“Calm down. Take a breath. There is a knot there on your stomach. Let me see–”

Doc’s effort to free his hands looked suspiciously like him groping his client’s breasts. To his credit, he gave up fairly quickly.

“Nope, I’m not going to be able to do it. You’ll have to untie it, Ms. Clarke. It’s a simple knot, you just need to steady yourself.”

They were able to extract themselves quickly from there. The therapist tried to give his button down to Emilia but that almost immediately disappeared, leaving the doctor in just his undershirt and her still topless.

“ Alright Ms. Clarke, I don’t think I’m going to be able to give you more clothes. Why don’t you go ahead and just put that sweater back on? I know it’s not ideal but looks like that’s the situation we’re stuck in. To that point, you know the Catholics have a prayer. I think it was Augustine- well, it doesn’t matter. The prayer goes ‘God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and Wisdom to know the difference’. Now, I know you aren’t religious, but we’re clearly dealing with a power beyond our control. I propose that we face it with serenity and wisdom. The isn’t asking much. I suggest that you fix your hair. Ah, apologies- fix was the wrong word. Change- change your hair to meet his demands. From what we know, that will make the leave you alone or at least only manifest in private.”

The session ended soon after with Emilia agreeing with the suggestion. A therapist who sends his client out into the world in a cum covered sweater to go dye her hair is a failure 999 times out of a 1000. But Doc felt like he did the best he could. His internal monologue was disrupted as several photographs appeared in his hand. Each pic was of one of his celebrity clients, naked and usually covered in cum. Kendall, Ariana, Florence, and Emilia; all posed to perfection. He hustled over to lock his door and close his blinds. He had fantasized about each of them frequently already, to see the fantasy visualized was too much to ignore, even for a minute.