All her life, Stacey had wanted to be an actress. She moved to California, found an agent and started auditioning. But the first two auditions her agent sent her to told her the same thing – her tits weren’t big enough to get the part.
“Listen, honey,” one casting agent told her. “There are two sorts of blondes in acting – old hard-as-nails bitches who get the “evil boss” roles, and big-titted bimbos. And you don’t look like Meryl Streep to me.”
She was distraught, feeling insecure and ugly and desperate. But her agent made her an offer. He’d buy fake tits for her. The agency would pay the cost, and the agency would own them, until she was able to buy them back at a 300% mark-up.
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” her agent told her. “That’ll be loose change once you get your first big role.”
So she went in for surgery, and came out with big round fake udders. She went to see her agent to see if he had any auditions for her.
“Show me what I bought,” he told her.
She blushed. She felt strange enough having big new fake tits. She felt like a porn star, not an actress. She didn’t want to show them to her agent. She dithered.
“I’m sorry,” said the agent, suddenly stern. “Did you think that was something I wanted your opinion on? In case you’ve forgotten, those are *my* tits, and I want to see them. Your contract’s very clear, Stacey. You only work for my agency until you buy back your tits. If I don’t give you work, you can’t work *anywhere* – not as an actress, not as a waitress, not as a whore. Now show me my fucking tits.”
Blushing and humiliated, Stacey reluctantly pulled down the top of her dress, baring her new plastic funbags. She looked away, unable to meet her agent’s eyes as he stared at her big new melons.
“Good girl,” he told her. “Keep them exposed whenever you’re in this building, from the second you walk in the door. In fact, you can keep them exposed at home, too, even if you have guests, and for the entirety of any social meeting you have – dates, family, whatever – no matter where it takes place.”
He stood, and walked over to her, and then reached out and grabbed one of her tits and squeezed. She squealed, and tried to pull away – but his grip was strong, and pulling only made the pain worse.
“Keep my tits still,” he told her. He squeezed harder, then released her breast – before slapping it, hard.
She cried out, so he slapped it again. “I’m enjoying hitting these breasts I bought, slut,” he told her. “It’s no concern of mine if you feel pain when I hit them. Maybe next time I tell you to do something with my tits, you’ll be quicker to obey.” He slapped her breast a third time, for emphasis.
“Now kneel,” he told her, and, scared of being hit again, she obeyed. And, as she suspected, it turned out he wanted to fuck her tits. She closed her eyes and sobbed as he rubbed his cock between her fat new udders until she felt him squirt hot sticky cum onto her chin and the upper slopes of her slutmelons. He wouldn’t let her clean it off, so she went home with the feel of it drying on her breasts.
Over the coming months, Stacey’s agent sent her for many auditions, always for strange parts. He told her that she was always, always to bare her tits at the start of the auditions, so that no one would think she wasn’t big-titted enough.
At one audition, they told her her character was a gymnast who was being tortured by terrorists, so they hung weights from her nipples by clamps, and had her bounce on a trampoline with her hands cuffed behind her back until she was crying from the pain of having her tits jerked up and down by the bouncing and the weights.
At another one, they told her that she was auditioning for the part of a woman held in domestic slavery, and they made her clean the floor with her bare tits – dipping them into a bucket of soapy water and then rubbing them back and forth against the floor.
At a third, they told her the film was called “Lesbian Confessions”, and had her read a long monologue in which her character described several perverted fantasies about being raped by men, while another big-titted actress licked and suckled at her nipples. They told her she didn’t get it because she had had so much trouble focusing on the lines – she had been distracted by what was happening to her breasts, of course – but afterwards the other actress asked if she wanted to come back to her house for drinks, and Stacey was so confused and insecure and horny that she agreed, and ended up having an evening of desperate, slutty, wet lesbian sex that was entirely unlike her.
She didn’t get many roles. The ones she did get always turned out to be porn films, where she would be fucked by a man or woman on camera. She turned down the first couple – her agent was irate, and showed his anger through prolonged sessions of whipping “his” tits with his leather belt – but soon she realised she needed money to eat, and to keep her house, so she started taking the roles. Fucking strangers on camera was degrading, but it felt a little bit like acting, and she pretended she was a celebrity. They never paid much – enough to live on, but never enough to pay the bills.
After a time, her agent told her he wanted “his” tits to be living in a dog kennel in his back yard. She had no choice in the matter, but at least it saved her money on rent. And she discovered, once she moved, that she was not the first girl her agent had bought tits for – there were two other kennels in the yard, each occupied by another fake-titted would-be-actress…
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When actress Stacy gets a boob upgrade financed by her agent, she finds herself under his control in unexpected ways.