A
AnnieD
Guest
*** Out of character ***
Non-consent alert: There will be forced elements to this story as well as some rough, depraved sex. If this isn't something that interests you, please don't read further. If it does, well enjoy the show!
Of course, everybody in this story is fake, not real, part of my twisted imagination, etc. Everybody that matters is over 18 and adult.
***
Non-consent alert: There will be forced elements to this story as well as some rough, depraved sex. If this isn't something that interests you, please don't read further. If it does, well enjoy the show!
Of course, everybody in this story is fake, not real, part of my twisted imagination, etc. Everybody that matters is over 18 and adult.
***
My character:
Some background:
Candy Miles was known to many as the absolute hottest reporter on television. She seemingly came out of nowhere; a young, luscious nineteen year old reporting all sorts of things for the new, hip channel Peeves News - an up and coming news station that prided itself of providing provocative news segments both on television and on the internet. It's worth mentioning that Candy's career had skyrocketed over the past year or so, given her natural gift when it came out to sniffing out some significant leads and her ability to provide great interviews with some of society's least desirable people; from infamous celebrities, disgraced politicians, and celebrated lawbreakers. That she was only nineteen years of age was only part of her aura – she was also a young college student with an incredible razor-sharp intellect, and an amazing talent to rise to the top. Of course, that's not the only reason why she rose to the top...
Candy was also a complete and arrogant bitch.
While the public loved her, they didn't know what happened behind the scenes; how Candy bent and twisted the rules to get where she was now. They didn't know of the people she had screwed over, or lied to, or blackmailed. Candy had fucked over so many people that if she ever made a mistake, she knew there was no one out there to save her. It didn't bother her though; she knew that she was the best on television and that there was nothing out there that could bring her down.
Of course, she didn't count on this fateful day where she'd be raped on live television.
...
Story/IC:
I was nervous - I didn't show it, but I sure was. I covered some pretty intense stuff over the past year that I've been here at Peeves News; I covered a heroin addict superstar (and outed him to the world), I covered a ex-KGB agent living in America, I even covered two politicians and got them to admit to the world that they were in the pockets of big corporations. Even though I was only nineteen years old, I knew my stuff. But...this was the first time that I was going to interview someone who we knew was a notorious fucking pervert. I was talking about the crude Gerry Allen - a lewd, disgusting 46 year old who preyed on young freshman year college girls - just like me. A pervert who lived right next to San Francisco State University, with the sole intent of fucking women through any means necessary. There were even accusations that he was a serial rapists and he was eventually jailed for it. Normally, we wouldn't have covered a pervert like him, but with the controversy surrounding the book he plans on publishing from prison, the station took an interest in getting his side of the story.
And we were doing it live.
"Are you seriously taking a selfie?" Jimmy, the camera man and driver said as I took out my phone and took a pose. He was nervous too, I knew that much - he was definitely not enjoying the thought of having to go through this. I mean, we were visiting a notorious rapist in prison. I knew where he was coming from.
"Lighten up, we can't go there shaking like a bunch of scared puppies." I said, my tone of voice giving out just a hint of my signature attitude. "I think he's the fucking scum of the earth and we're going to show it. There's no need to not have some fun on our way there."
Yeah, I was a little bit snarky but hey, my fans loved it. Hell, my boss loved it; although, he was a little concerned about me going there to meet with Gerry. Originally, the plan was to get a male reporter to conduct the interview, but after some allegations popped up that he was peddling drugs around the office (which I may or may not have helped get uncovered), there was no one available around the area to do it except me. I wanted to though; I thought that a woman being the one to cause Gerry to have a breakdown would get us even more views.
Even so, our boss was terrified for several reasons; one, he was concerned because this was the first time that our live segments were going to be on mainstream sites ...so he had put a five-second delay on the feed, just in case that Gerry would do something disgusting and outrageous all of a sudden, like whip out his dick and start masturbating in front of us. The second reason why my boss was terrified from the get-go (and believe me, he was insisting this to me) that this interview was too dangerous for the hot little number Candy Miles.
On one hand, I got it. I was almost a sex-symbol with my body and honestly, that probably got me half my fan-base. I was a relatively tall (5'7") young woman, platinum blonde hair with a slender, fit body - including my DD cup breasts which had this ever so slight bounce to it when I walked. But what people noticed the most was my huge, big round butt. Apparently, I was considered a PAWG to many viewers.
Yes, yes I know for such a thin girl, I had an unbelievable ass; massive and round cheeks that seemed to mesmerize half of America (at least, from the spike in viewership whenever I was on the air). I'd be lying to you if I said that I didn't use the fact that I was this body to my full advantage. I mean, this sexy reporter - being as bright, inquisitive, bold and courageous as I was – had also become a favorite target for the paparazzi these past few months. But I didn't mind. In fact, I tried to dress my sexiest whenever I went out now, feeling a rush of delight whenever I saw pictures of myself on the tabloids. Whether they caught me in a yoga outfit (with how my pants seem to accumulate between my round cheeks), in a cocktail dress (with abundant cleavage), or throwing out the garbage (tiny shorts and a tank top), it always meant that someone – somewhere – was thinking about Candy Miles, and I loved it!
But of course, this came with a bit of danger; more specifically with this interview. Taking a pit-stop at some gas station, I had to change into a different outfit - one that Gerry Allen wanted. Yes, we needed to give into some of his demands; otherwise, the interview would not take place. I was willing to take the sacrifice of wearing this outfit; a camo attire complete with a cap, top and tight booty shorts, match with some sexy stilettos. No doubt that Mr. Allen chose it because somehow, he got to see that popular Instagram picture of mine.
...
All in all, I looked pretty breathtaking - especially for these prisoners. I could hear the ruckus they were making, as we walked through the jail. My heels clicked on the cement floor, howling like a pack of wolves and whistling whenever they got a glimpse of me - whether it was the cleavage of my DD cup breasts or my round ass within this pair of tight black booty shorts. Twenty prison officers guided us through the hallway, until we reached our interview room.
The room was actually a virtually impregnable room that had large bulletproof windows, and I insisted that the television audience see outside these windows where the prison fence and guard towers were, a distance away. The room itself was built for facility lockdowns for guards and had an ample power supply, another reason that led both my producer and I to this place; it had enough room and power to set up their cameras and lights.
The warden, however hated this idea because the room was a "safe house" within the prison – a place where guards could hold up if needed, but the room itself was situated far from other guard facilities, meaning it was rather isolated in an emergency. Eventually I just had to pull some strings, and the warden had no choice but to allow us to use this room, but the man wasn't too happy about it!
I didn't care, and - halfway through the interview with Mr. Allen - I was pleased that I was right, thinking that no one but me could have pulled this off. All of the red tape, the bending of rules, made for an even more satisfying interview. It had been hard, and I had had made many enemies just setting this one interview up alone, but it had definitely been worth it.
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