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Can't be Tamed {fate & mercury}

darkest_fate

darkest_fate

machina erotica
Joined
Dec 17, 2009
Location
the INTERNET
*all celebs are used for image purposes and fantasy. the authors of this RP don't claim their likeness, nor do we assume that they act like or would do anything like this. we just dream it.

Miley Cyrus entered Club Sappho in disguise. At least, she hoped it was enough of a disguise. She'd put on darker makeup than she would normally, mussed up her trademark chestnut hair, and tried to look more dangerous than the cute, lovable girl that she'd been presenting to the public for years. In fact, she looked far closer to the Miley that had been seen on her more recent videos than to any cheerful children's star. Especially clad in her skin-tight, black leather short shorts, contouring to every bit of her fine little rear. A wispy blue top covered most of her front, baring most of her back, not even letting a line for a bra show; when you had Miley's money, you could afford special cups for your perky breasts. To top it off, several chains hung about the girl's front, dangling with each step.

A fake ID was presented, though baby-faced Miley still had to bribe a suspicious bartender to get a drink. Soon enough though, she was heading onto the dance floor, the music thumping in her ears and guiding her feet. If it was one thing the starlet could do and do well, it was dance. She'd been dancing since her daddy had discovered her talent all those years ago, and had only kept dancing since.

Ironically, she hard a dance mix of her own song start blaring through the speakers. It hadn't been nearly the hit the rest of her impressive number had, but it had spoken more about her than many of them did. She wanted to break free of that goody-two-shoes image, to become something that couldn't be tamed: wild and ready to go. She'd already lost her virginity a few years ago, to one of her older boyfriends, so it wasn't like she was Miss Innocent, not like Selena or Demi (though Miley strongly suspected those two of playing around with each other; bffs indeed).

Now the girl had headed to a known lesbian club, determined to cut loose. maybe she'd be able to get some cool publicity out of it, assuming she got caught. She'd done everything to make sure she wouldn't though, and was desperately hoping just to have a good time. Maybe get hit on by a few cute babes, just for bragging rights later.

It was the time for dancing and drinking for now though. Flirting would come later. for now, the girl simply writhed in time to her own music, listening to her own voice tell her that she couldn't be tamed.
 
Claire Templin reclined at the bar of Club Sappho, her alluring form practically poured into the slinky red dress she wore. It was a cliche number, perhaps, but one made for a woman like her. She was not one of the big-breasted, pouty-lipped dolls that graced American magazines. This french beauty was more what one would expect from a woman who controlled people's lives. Her lips, red to match the ruby dress - sipped from an expensive glass of wine as her hand dismissively waved yet another hopeful woman away. Did they really think she desired the wrinkled flesh of a soccer mom running down here while her husband was away on a business trip? No. Claire had more refined tastes, one for fruits that were not quite past that threshold of ripeness.

When her eyes caught the woman - no, the girl - bribing the bartender she almost choked on her wine. Impossible. She was seeing things. Claire put the wine down, concerned that perhaps she had too much. People like her did not simply stroll into places like this. Hell, people like Claire herself did not stroll into places like this! But then Club Sappho was not some dyke dive. It wasn't the most exclusive or up-class place but it was stylish and fairly in with the lesbian crowd at the moment.

Claire kept watching the girl as she drank and went to the dance floor. Slowly she came to accept it. It's true. It WAS her! How? Why? Such things were completely irrelevant as Claire's red lips curled into a predatory smile. She'd found the night's meal, and oh how their jaws would hit the floor when she showed up with THIS catch! That clenched it. The contest was over. Claire was already in the lead, but a tender young celebrity already seeming determined to put herself on the same set of rails so many starlets had hurtled themselves against a wall in? Claire would put a stop to that. She would not be lost to rehab clinics and fizzling interest in the public eye. A precious thing like her deserved more, to have her body treated like the work of art that it was. And the others would never question her as their leader. She doubted they'd even bother calculating how many points Miley was worth, you couldn't put a number on it.

Claire waited until the song was over to put her glass aside and leave a bill on the bar that might give the tender a heart attack when she saw it. She was feeling in the mood to pass on the universe's generosity. She rose up to her feet, her hips swaying in a seductive manner as she approached Miley after her voice was done coming through the speakers and the next song started up. Expensive bracelets of gold and gems hung on her wrists and a most alluring scent drifted around her.

That scent was why so many women had hit on her, and when she drew close and it hit Miley's nose the subtle magic would take it's effect. It would make the temptation to look at Claire irresistible,and when Miley did it would place the most sinful thrill in her young heart. It would linger, weak but still there, for the first time any woman saw Claire while smelling that perfume they would feel the unmistakable tingle between their legs that many people said only a man should cause in a woman.

"Well, hello there cute stuff. What ARE you doing out here all alone? Mmmh, you do know this is a club for girls to... hang out with each other, right?" She didn't even try to hide the way she eyed the younger female up, her attraction obvious even as she implied Miley wasn't aware of the bar's nature.
 
Throbbing music and thrashing bodies continued to amp up the temperature. The heat of it, combined with the alcohol swimming in her veins, already made the young starlet begin to feel a little lightheaded. She could tell that several of the women there were staring at her, more than one with hunger in her eyes. So many young boys and eager men had worn similar looks, and Miley had a feeling that more than one had masturbated to her music video. That had been the point. But there was something different to being admired by so many women. It made Miley feel more beautiful, more naturally sexy. especially because she hadn't come in with her regular entourage, announcing to the world that was the Miley Cyrus.

Someone moved through the crowd, and it almost looked like people were parting before her, like waves before Moses. The curious Miley turned, her breath nearly catching in her throat. Some creature from myth or legend slunk toward her, each step looking decidedly predatory. Suddenly Miley was sharply aware of the sweat upon her own body, of her lips, which had become dry enough that her tongue was wetting them, of her own look: more trashy party girl than slinky sex goddess. She'd thought that the audience looked at her. They had to stare at this girl.

Hiding her jealousy and admiration, Miley slid into an easy smile, something she'd always been able to do. "Hello there yourself," she said, almost adding a "beautiful" to it. Miley had associated with hot women for years now, but she kept staring at this one. In fact, as she breathed, she thought she caught a whiff of something unique, a perfume so sharp and beautiful that it nearly curled Miley's toes.

Wait, there had been a question. she should answer that.

"Yeah, I know," said Miley. she smiled and took a sip of her drink. Someone behind her bumped into the girl, splashing the liquid over Miley's face and onto her shirt. The starlet cursed under her breath, turning, but the culprit was gone. instead she was giving a bashful smile to the striking woman. Miley had thought things had been bad before.

"A girl likes bein' looked at, right?" she said, forcing a laugh. "Though now I'm thinking they're probably looking for a different reason than I'd hoped. I think I should probably head to the bar or something."

but she didn't move, instead staring at the girl. "Oh, yeah, where's my manners. I'm Mi---Milly. Milly," last name, she needed a last name, "Montana." Oh, yeah, because that wasn't a give-away. "I just turned twenty one and wanted to celebrate without guys pawing at me all night. You know how it is."
 
Claire could not believe her good fortune as the other person bumped into Miley. That stuff had worked! When she'd first stubmled on the page she thought one of the others must be playing a joke on her. Luck potion? Really? From that book with the flying car? What kind of ridiculous nonsense was that? But she'd tried it anyway and whether coincidence or not, she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. With the distraction her target had so conveniently caused by drawing attention to the spill, Claire popped one of the gems from the bracelet on her right hand and dropped it into miley's drink. The gem that wasn't a gem dissovled instantly.

It had many wondrous properties when mixed with alcohol. Love Poison, the book called it. It would first and foremost free poor Cyrus of the unfavorable effects of the alcohol. It would not do to have her losing her dinner all over the floor or waking up later so hung over she could do nothing but whimper in migraine-induced pain. Alcohol was a wonderful tool for seduction but overdone it rather spoiled the mood. Love Poison removed that risk.

It would also amplify all those new thoughts that might be swimming in Miley's head. Were she just in a calm, relaxed state ti would do nothing. Like struggling in quicksand, the more one thought about sexual things with the poison in them it the more those thoughts would spread to their bodies, starting the physical reactions that Miley's body was already more than mature enough to experience despite what some might claim. If she were innocent, it would have no effect. But just one little thought of sensuality could quickly spiral into flushed cheeks and moist thighs.

Claire did not risk some miracle preventing that seed from being planted either as she listened to her rather poor attempt at improvisation with a smile. Such an amateur. So naive. But then, that was why she was perfect. Claire could hardly contain herself from grabbing the girl and hauling her to the awaiting car, damn the consequences. But she waited and played her hand patiently with her poker face on.

"Pleased to meet you, I am Claire Templin. Well, you're certainly in the right place to celebrate such a wonderful evening Milly." She had a clear french accent to her voice, but it did not mar her speech or make it difficult to understand. It was refined, and clearly this woman had more than just the money for her expensive clothes. She had the money for the education and the upbringing if her posture and elegant voice were any indications. "And you most certainly have every eye in the room on you."

She reached into her cleavage and pulled a small scarlet handkerchief that matched the dress perfectly from that hidden spot. Her manicured fingers reached out, gently wiping the spilled drink from Miley's face. The hand moved down over her neck, towards the spill on her chest. "But... I think that celebrating alone is not the best way, no? Perhaps you would let me join you in making this birthday very..."

She leaned in close, letting that smell grow stronger, knowing the poison would now have taken it's hold on her. The words spoken were laced with honey and sex and so close that Miley could feel Claire's breath as she put all of her thirty two years on this world into making it the most inviting and suggestive word to ever grace young Miley's ears.

"Special."
 
So much magic and mischief swirled around poor Miley that she hadn't a chance. Without even stopping to question the beautiful Frenchwoman, Miley had downed the rest of the drink, taking in any and all bit of love poison she could. Almost immediately the anti-alcohol effects came into play, sharpening Miley's senses and making her take a deep, shuddering breath... one that made her suck in the perfume. that feminine odor went straight to Miley's head, making her feel momentarily light headed. She extended one hand, catching Claire and holding onto the older woman for balance.

So soft. So gentle. Clearly Claire liked girls too, and she kept looking at Miley, complimenting her. It was like being next to Aphrodite, and having her tell you how very sexy you looked. Except Miley was actually touching this goddess. Almost immediately her eyes went to the blonde's cleavage.

She's bigger than me. I wonder what they feel like? passed into Miley's head. The throbbing rhythm of her song hit its climax. Can't be tamed blared into the starlet's head, further pushing the idea. the idea of this beautiful blonde woman kissing another, a brunette, someone smaller, possibly with the cuteness of youth about her. Miley. She was picturing the blonde kissing her. It made her shudder, and she reflexively brought her hands to her lips.

Wait, they were talking. Blushing, Miley forced her eyes to meet the woman's. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Templin," Templin, like tempting, like what this woman was doing to Miley. What would those lips be like upon hers/ Would they be soft? Or would they be beguiling? Both?

Special. The word slid down Miley's spine, making her tremble. The flush deepened, and she began to think about just what Claire could do to make the night special. Can't be tamed. That was supposed to be Miley, not the lust that she felt building within.

"Um, I think I need another drink," she said, swallowing. "Could we, uh, get it together? No, no, wait, I need to get to the bathroom. I've got booze all over me."

She looked down at her shirt, pulling it away from her body and staring. The sweet smell of a fruity alcoholic drink wafted from her then, mixing with Claire's cloying perfume.

"Could you take me?" asked Miley, looking up at claire. she blushed darker than ever. "To the bathroom, I mean."
 
Suddenly, Claire had an epiphany. It was still sex. Everything in the book was sex. It wasn't a Be Lucky potion. It was a Get Lucky potion! that lottery ticket was a loser, she'd lost at the casino, and it was very difficult to get the cops to let her off for throwing a dart into a man's chest while blind folded. Thank god for money. But she'd been extraordinarily lucky with Miley, and now was being asked to take her to the bathroom of a lesbian bar? Whoever this Tyala person was who'd authored the dusty old book they'd found, she would gladly use the book to give her a dick and then suck it in thanks for the wondrous gift it was turning into.

Sure, the momentary rush of so many things might have woken some small part of the girl to the danger she was in. But slamming a drink back like that? Love poison was merely a gateway to freedom from alcohol's unpleasant effects. Like everything in the book it was made to make girls lose their will to resist, and it left the intoxicating effects of the drink behind. When the unwise decision to chug it hit her bloodstream, she would be defenseless against it making the poison so much worse.

"Oh, certainly, sweetheart. Come this way." She took Miley's empty glass and handed it to a passing girl. Not even a waitress, the girl just took it back to the bar without question. Claire put one arm around Miley and drew her close, guiding her towards the bathroom in the back.

She opened the door and lead her into the bathroom, which was a whole lot cleaner and fancier than the ones you found in mixed gender bars. The lighting was pleasant, the room smelled nice, and they had much softer towels and toilet paper than the industrial junk most public restrooms did. Seeing no one was inside and that her luck was still running strong, Claire removed her arm from Miley and turned to lock the door with a click that sounded the starlet's impending downfall.

"Now then... would you like some assistance with your dilemma, Milly? And please... Miss Templin makes me feel old. Call me Claire." She approached her prey with that same seductive sway in her hips, but this time no crowd to stop an of the illicit possibilities the perfume was almost forcing her to envision.
 
Come this way. Was it bad that Miley nearly giggled at those words? She knew it was childish, but her brain kept dredging up all kinds of sexual fantasies involving the hot blonde woman before her. How could she not think something like that? Following Claire was almost fun, Miley humming the song under her breath. By now the music thudding around them had turned to something else, sounded like "Born This Way" or something. Miley found she really didn't care, which was kind of odd, given how much attention she usually paid to music.

but it felt so awesome to be touched by this woman. Guys were always so possessive and rough, but Claire felt like she was gently coaxing Miley, and the small brunette found herself leaning against Claire, smiling in a way that definitely said "smitten." For this close, Miley could feel the sexy, thin body underneath that red dress. What would it feel like to touch it? What did another woman's breasts feel like? her stomach?

Her pussy?

"Wow, I was expecting a dump," admitted Miley, wandering in. "Or, you know, several people or something. How is it this whole place if filled with girls but none of them are using the bathroom? There some secret bathroom I don't know about? OR did you arrange private time for us?"

She giggled, finding both ideas equally implausible and hilarious. She paused, turning to look over her shoulder at Claire. The woman looked... predatory again. Like a lioness stalking her prey. Those lips seemed to be curved, moving delicately. Maye it was the drink Miley chugged hitting her bloodstream, but she thought the blonde was definitely looking like she wanted something to eat.

Like a brunette.

"Uh, okay, Claire," said Miley. She suddenly felt hot, and smiled, wiping her arm with her face. Yeah, definitely some sweat. The skin tight shorts felt incredibly tight too, pressing against Miley's lower half. "We were going to get me cleaned up, like with some towels or something?"

Wherever those were.
 
Claire could see it in her young target's eyes. The need growing inside her. The lust. She had wanted to just tempt the wild side, just stick her head in the door, look at all the wonderful kinky things, and run back to her rich daddy to brag about how naughty she was. But Claire would take her so much further than the bath room of Club Sappho. If Miley only knew what the next twenty four hours held for her.

"Ohhh... that's right. The shirt." She stopped in front of Miley, her gentle hand reaching out to run over the dampness of it. She let that touch linger, moving back and forth to lightly stimulate the skin beneath. So many millions of people fawning for this body, and it was all hers.

Her other hand moved to the starlet's waist, resting on it as Claire moved her face gradually down towards Miley's. Even without her heels she was several inches taller. "We should definitely get that cleaned up. Before we go back out and dance... oh, I suppose I should ask first. Would you like to dance with me, Milly?"

The way she said the word it sounded more like 'would you like to fuck me?'. How could one possibly sound like the other? Was it Claire's tone, the way she dripped sex and temptation? Or was it the alcohol, or perhaps the drugs Miley didn't knwo were swirling through her system? Or perhaps by then it was just Cyrus' own mind playing tricks on her to make her give in to what the poison would more and more make her body scream for?
 
That touch made Miley shiver, unable to suppress it. A chill went through her body, sinking deep within, making her skin pimple. That was just from a touch: a grazing of finger tips along the dampness of Miley's loose shirt. No, wait, she'd touched Miley underneath, hadn't she? Felt that soft, tender skin, the desire of millions. It could all be Claire's too, if she just...

No. Miley had just come in here to brag about it. She didn't want an actual lesbian experience. That would ruin her career, destroy her image. Some badness, some naughtiness, that helped things. But something like this, a torrid affair with an older blonde sex-goddess, that destroyed affairs. Just think of the pictures! The two of them, bleary-eyed, tangled in sheets. Miley's leg would just be exposed, the tender flesh showing, bead of sweat gathering. Claire's hand would be upon Miley's bare shoulder, her hair swayed forward to shield her while she gently kissed the starlet. Kissed Miley till her head rocked back and a moan escaped her pretty pink lips.

A moan like now.

Blushing, Miley looked up at Claire. She was tall. Bigger than Miley. "Yeah, sure. I'd love to," fuck, "dance with you."

How had she made that word so loaded? The moment Claire had said "dance" it had slid down Miley's spine. Another little shiver, this one seeming to go all the way to her sex, that treasure between her legs. It was almost like Miley's pussy recognized that it was being wanted, and was eagerly preparing for it, against its owner's wishes.
 
Claire grinned at the response. Oh, it was almost too easy. For the tiniest second, Claire almost considered feeling regret about what she was doing. Then she remembered that image that had started the short-lived spike in media interest in her, just from a bare back. And then thought of how she could have what no one else did, the ability to see what the camera did not.

"Good. I love to dance. Especially with pretty young girls like you." She moved closer still, now just inches separated their lips. Claire's blue eyes looked deep into Miley's as her hand moved up to her shoulder.

"Don't tell anyone else this... but I think you are the prettiest girl here tonight. When I saw you dancing I knew I had to speak to you." The other hand on Miley's waist moved down to her hips, slowly creeping around behind her to rest on her perfect little ass.

"I have been turning away suitor after suitor, waiting for someone who was more worthy of my attention... and then you showed up. Thank you for making this night worthwhile for me, Milly. I truly appreciate it." With those words the hand on her shoulder lifted to cup her cheek.

Claire's lips were softer than any boys who may have had the blessing of kissing Miley. They did not part, did not try to push a tongue that she was not ready for into her mouth. And the taste of them was simply divine. Normally her kiss would have had the most unexpected effects on Miley, but the poison in her lipsticks could do little more to her that the one in her drink had not. Claire mused on the fact that she hadn't even needed all her tricks to get this far, even as her hand tightened on Miley's rear in a way that made the kiss definitely less than chaste.
 
Inches separated Miley's quivering lips from Claire's own. it made the smaller girl tremble, her eyes going wide, almost dimming with lust already. just a little more, and they would be kissing. Those soft lips would be pressed against Miley's drawing the cool from her, leaving her breathless. Hell, she was breathless now, just staring up at those cool, blue eyes.

"Thank you," she said, blushing. "I'm glad you think I'm pretty. you're absolutely beauti--"

Her voice caught, turning into a gasp. the hand lightly touched her butt, just gracing her denim clad rear. But it had electrified Miley, sending signals through her body that it was time to be ready for sex. Her nether lips moistened, her nipples tightened, and a flush drew around her face and throat. The alcohol seemed to hit at just that time too, making the room spin. Nothing made sense, nothing at all. Miley just knew that her body wanted the touch of the woman that held her,. No, not wanted, needed. Her legs were spreading, her lips parting, the reactions automatic.

"Thank you," she repeated through her daze. she smiled. Trembled at the touch at her cheek. Then the lips were on Miley's. The starlet groaned into the contact, her own hands spreading wide and helpless. She beat against her hips for a few moments, not believing that she was actually doing this. She was standing in a bathroom at a lesbian bar, letting an older woman kiss her. Oh, but how those lips tasted sweet. How Miley wanted more. She wanted those lips to press all over her aching body. To draw her nipples into the warm caverns of her mouth, to press against her needy sex.

And the hand touched Miley's rear, pulling her closer, tugging at the girl. Miley groaned into the kiss. Her hands came up to grab at Claire, desperately holding on. clothes. Clothes were in the way. why were they in the way? Miley's hips began tracing small circles, her hips seeking out the woman, wanting the touch that would sooth the yearning between.
 
Oh what Claire would not give to have this on film for the archives. The sweet seduction of this precious treasure was something she would sorely miss when viewing the tapes in her old age, reliving the wondrous adventures that her attractive body and the power of the book allowed her. She would have to make certain the tapes that she did get would make up for the hole in the collection.

The kiss was held as Miley fought with indecision and let the reality of her desire fully sink in. The first time was always difficult, confusing. With the prey not understanding how they could feel such things towards the predator, even when Claire did not hide that she was in fact hunting them. Unlike some in Hollywood this girl was no idiot. She was carefully calculating these little adventures to boost her career. She was clever, more than clever enough to have known what Claire wanted. But with so many mystical and mundane methods of temptation at her fingertips, what girl could resist?

Not this one, that was now clear. And just as Miley began to grind her hips and hold onto her red dress it all ended. Her soft lips were pulled away, and Miley was being dragged out of the bathroom, lead by her wrist. Claire wasn't violent or rough about it, just tugging her along too fast for her mind, swimming with hormones and booze, to adjust to the pulsating lights or the thumping music. She lead Miley towards the dance floor with single-minded determination.

If Miley wanted to give the world something to look at, Claire would show her one generated publicity. Of course no cameras would actually catch the display. Claire's face all over the news touching a minor would land her in jail right fast, and the incredible luck she still possessed in walking right into situations that worked to get her wonderful sex wouldn't leave her locked up in jail, providing Miley unseen and indirect protection to her public image.
 
Miley barely understood what was happening to her. She was supposed to be kissing this goddess, giving in to the momentary burst of lust and alcohol. But instead, she wasn't. She was being led by the hand. The music blared at them now, something about how "tonight I'm fucking you." It made Miley's already spinning head worse. She couldn't understand, didn't want to understand, what was happening to her.

"What--what are we doing?" she asked, looking around. they were on the dance floor now: girls grinding against one another, throbbing and writhing to the beat of the music. Throbbing, writhing, that was what Miley wanted to do. With the woman next to her. To be taken till she was screaming with pleasure, her face contorted in wanton bliss. The sexualized daydreams would not leave Miley now, and she turned her face up at Claire. Miley's face had scrunched up in confusion as her bleary brain tried to process what was going on.

"Weren't we kissing?" she asked. "I don't know if I want to kiss in public. i mean, you're hot and all, and I'm sexy. You're sexy. But, people can see us," she pointed at the people around them, then wobbled slightly, leaning against Claire. "Oh, you smell so nice," she shifted her face, burying it in the older woman's chest, taking a deep breath. "I wish I smelled like that. It's... so awesome..."

She grabbed onto Claire, using the older woman for balance in her shaky world.
 
She had hoped for this, the disorientation and uncertainty of where she was. She wanted Miley too confused to object, too out of it to resist once they started. She lead her to the center of the dance floor, where the two were given a clearing. She pulled Miley close when they were there, grinning to her.

"We're dancing. You said you wanted to dance with me, right? And don't worry about it, honey! You worried it'll get back to someone you know, right? This is a lesbian club, Milly, we understand some people here aren't out. What happens in here stays in here, no one will mention they even saw you tonight, so just remember to do the same for them and relax!"

She silenced any objections with another kiss, this one much briefer but somehow more passionate as she grabbed both of Miley's cheeks, steadying her face as they kissed. Claire was on fire. She was almost soaked through her panties, and she wanted this girl. But not yet. It was not the place for that revelation. Miley would learn later the new shape she would come to revere, one much more worthy of her attention than that cheap shimmer of a platinum record.

When the kiss broke seconds after beginning, Miley was swept into a most intimate and erotic dance. Claire's body never seemed to leave hers. She twisted and moved her hips, stepping and grooving in time to the music. But it was all highly sexualized, with her hands going up and down Miley's back and sides, touching her rear as Claire's larger breasts rubbed against Miley's and stimulated her tense nipples through their clothes.

To any inexperienced girl it would've been a heated moment. But with the music thumping and people watching, the drugs pumping in her system and Claire's inherent sexuality, it would be an experience almost as intense and thrilling as having sex.

Simple touches, even her own skirt against her legs, came like intimate caresses to her most sensitive areas. Claire's fingertips were like shining points of pleasure which shot through her nervous system wherever they touched Miley. And the more Claire danced with her, the more what should have been simply a thrilling and arousing dance into a blinding torrent of passion.
 
"Right, dancing. I wanted to dance with you. This is okay," said Miley. Her words were tripping over one another, as though they were in a hurry to leave her mouth. Yet she still found herself beginning to resist. To open her mouth in response. She couldn't get too sexy, not in public. If someone recognized her, even at a discreet club like this... she just couldn't, not with her...

A kiss silenced it. Passionate, hard. It made Miley's eyelids flutter, her knees going weak. Now she knew that her sex was throbbing with need, enflamed by the woman's touches and kisses. That Claire moved from the kiss to the sexiest dance around was even harder on the poor little brunette. Miley tried to dance back, and did a fair job. While she wasn't aware of where her hands were going, or what her body was doing, instinct and muscle memory guided her easily along. She bobbed and writhed along with the dance.

But sex had never felt this good. Miley's head swam, and she knew her pussy had gone from being warm to being on fire with need for this woman. Her panties were surely soaked through, and her hips kept jerking, as though seeking out the woman. Tiny nipples poked through the supportive cup of her underthing, jutting against the fabric of the bra. And Miley moaned and groaned. She couldn't stop letting out little noises of pleasure, highly sexualized versions of the very sounds she made during singing.

Her arms sought our Claire's body, to pull it close, to rub it along her own. To smear the sweaty sheen all over Miley's body as they entangled their limbs in a passionate movement older than time itself.

No, sex had never been this good.
 
Was it the luck potion that insured not a single woman pulled out her cell phone camera or recognizing Miley? Was it the lighting and the motion and general visual confusion of the club? Perhaps they were just too enthralled by the sight of the two hottest women in the club dry humping each other in front of them. Most likely it was some combination of all of them, but against all odds Miley's identity remained safely obscured behind Claire's masterful fog of magic and lust, creating an invisible barrier that the rest of the club could look through but not approach. There was no actual physical impediment, but none of them dared approached the maelstrom of sexuality they'd become lest they be swept in as well.

Claire knew her plan had succeeded. This girl was too far gone now to turn back. Minutes more, and she would be beyond all safety from Claire and her friends. She decided not to wait. She would spring the trap now, during this song.

When Miley's arms sought her out to give in to the temptation Claire spun around Miley almost as if the girl were a stripper pole. Suddenly behind her those large, soft tits press against Miley's back as another grasps the singer's own breast. The other set of slender fingers ending in wonderful red nails pressed against her lower belly, rubbing the tender flesh just above the waistline of those short shorts that Claire was learning to adore. They could so easily be under that denim and against that yearning slit.

But they didn't. Instead they ran down forward, touching not that directly but instead through the thick, infuriating dampening of the denim. But still they applied pressure between her young legs as the hand up above squeezes and rubbed through that expensive custom top of hers.

Claire herself was moaning and panting into Miley's ear. She gave no words, just letting her hear all of those noises her rich, old husband never once got to after her love spell had tricked him into marrying her. Who knew what hot young studs or maidens had been with this woman, but Miley now counted herself amongst those who knew what she sounded like in the middle of a good, hard fuck. She kept it low so only she could hear, not really in that much pleasure but able to fake it with the best of them, as if the little musician would be able to tell in her current state.

This had quickly escalated far beyond a dance, with almost the entire club now staring, watching, shouting encouragements at Miley as she was suddenly thrust back into the spotlight of the stage during her attempt to remain hidden.
 
Too far gone, Miley drifted along that maelstrom, blown by the sheer winds that were Claire's desire. Her world had become sex, desire and want. This blonde woman, moving about her, teasing and touching, just drifting toward the areas Miley wanted most. The hazy brunette managed one look outside their own personal tornado, seeing the faces staring and cheering at her. She was used to cheers, and they seemed to egg her own now.

But Miley didn't have to move long. Large breasts pressed against the girl's back, as hands went up to Miley's own. the young girl gasped, her eyes going wide. She slid backward, her hair falling down Claire's front. eyes rolled up, and hands went to grip for support. Each tiny fist closed around a handful of red skirt, pulling at the dress as Miley fought to stay fully upright. All while her body continued to move, driven by the music and her longtime training in "the show must go on." But now it was a different show.

"Mm, yes, oh, Claire, that feels so good," said Miley, her trained voice carrying over the thumping noise of the crowd. Her hips gyrated, seeking out the fingers. They thrust and lowered, lowered and thrust, meeting the fingers and drawing them ever close. Another hand cupped her small breast, kneading the tender flesh through the thin fabric of her top. Miley wished she could do the same, but could only manage to grab handfuls of red fabric, sliding down the woman.

"God, Claire!" yiped Miley. Her hips jerked. "This feels so damn good,. Oh, yes! If I had known girls were this good I would've switched teams ages ago. Oh, daaaamn," she shuddered, "keep it up. Please, right there," her hips moved, seeking out the finger that pressed against the throbbing need. "Please, please, please, I'm about to cum. I can feel it. I'm about to cum!"

the last came out a shout, and she jerked her hips forward, dangling at the edge of release. Miley's cute face, a magazine cover frequent, now contorted in sexual want, scrunching as the orgasm built within her, dying to come out. Claire had set the trap, and Miley had fallen right into it.
 
Claire felt her own pussy burning with that need now. Not from drugs or alcohol or naive curiosity. Just from the pure want of this girl. She had subtly confirmed herself not a virgin, proving the wild side that she professed in her music. While some part of Claire regretted she wouldn't be the girl's first, it only meant once she showed Miley proper fucking rather than the amateur fumbling of whatever lucky boys had most likely jizzed their pants at one feel of her luscious body her new favorite girl would never think of going to anyone else for release. She sorely wanted to shove that brown hair between her legs and grind her slit against the lips of this girl, just a bit more than half her own age.

Even if the audience had no idea who Miley really was, they erupted in cheers at her line about switching cheers. Her audience was roaring. They loved it. Their cheers were more approving, more adoring than any of the millions of girls who listened to her music.

And that's when the trap sprung closed, trapping Miley into a world she could never have imagined existed and that would never let her free of it's grasp. Though whether she would actually desire freedom again was an entirely separate question.

"Come on, Cyrus. Give your fans what they want. Show everyone they can't tame you!"

The words were said in that same amazingly sexualized way the word 'special' had been, this time for each and every word she spoke. They were low enough that only Miley could hear them.

And at that very moment Claire pressed two fingers between Miley's legs. firmly. still above the denim she rubbed firmly up and down, caressing her young pussy with a touch that felt like it was directly against her bare skin with how sensitive she was. And in unison, her thumb settled directly over Miley's nipple and pushed down through the fabric, moving in a circular motion against the little nub that was like a secondary clitoris by now.

Nothing Miley had ever experienced could possibly compare. Claire had not written that book, but she had spent years studying it and it's ways. The weave of magic and seduction around the tender young thing was beyond the ability of the richest, most powerful and handsome man - or woman - in the world to cast over her. It was like Claire had conquered lust, made it a collar, and slipped it around Miley's throat when she wasn't looking.

Claire waited breathlessly to hear the surrender of the girl in her arms, knowing no sound would ever be as sweet as this one.
 
The dancing, writhing girl had never received a proper fucking. One boyfriend had made her cum, once, but most of them exploded at the first sign of Miley's naked body. Some barely made it that far. None of them had stroked and teased and pulled and prodded her to this extent, drawing out the young girl's fully sexuality and displaying it before a wanton, cheering crowd.

"Yes, I'm going crazy!" she shouted, nearly quoting the lyrics of her song. Her hands slid along the woman behind her, and she wound up shouting the lyrics, her voice sliding into the song. "Every guy gives me attention! I go through guys like money flying out the hands! They try to change me, but they cant'!"

No, they couldn't. Because clearly Miley was diving backward into lesbianism, not even daring to look back. Her singing/chanting turned into a loud shout as her body jerked upward. Her hands went up, threading along Claire's neck now. The girl slid partially down, just managing to brace her unsteady feet along the ground. The body twitched, and her head rolled back, pressing against Claire's breasts. Legs spread wide. They arched up into the hand pressing against her.

And the collar slid around the starlet.

She screamed, jerking and arching, her body forming a perfect arch. She didn't twitch, not outwardly, not knowing she would slide and fall, but instead went as rigid as though electrified. Her body shook several times, and she shouted once more. Then she released Claire's neck, and would slide to the floor, exhausted.

It was quite clear that Claire had just made Miley Cyrus cum and cum hard in the middle of a crowd of cheering lesbians. It was also quite clear that the brunette was beginning to lose consciousness very quickly.
 
Claire had never, ever seen a girl she had seduced put on such a show. How could they? None of them were professionals like this one. Moreover, none had the passion for the crowd like she did. None had known the thrill of audience and cheers beforehand, and had put on amusing but ultimately bland performances.

Miley was an entirely different story. She performed with her voice, her body, her very soul. All of it was put into the act, and with just that one reminder of her music she voluntarily perverted her own lyrics into an anthem of pride for the lesbians. She didn't just fall into Claire's lustful embrace, she had flung herself into it full force. The poison only enhanced what was inside of one, and of all the young girls she'd taken this one had by far the most potent reaction.

And when she made that beautiful arch and cried out in the climax of both her body and the show, as the lesbian crowd roared with applause and whistles, Claire's own eyes went went as she tossed her head back. She could feel Miley's orgasm, the sweet, radiating sexual energy. So bright, so intense. She would provide more than any, she already knew it.

Claire took that moment to glimpse into the portal created by climax that she had learned to cross into, making sure they were in skin to skin contact at some place directly, even the tiniest bit. She saw into Miley's entire sexual history, thoughts, desires, dreams. She could not know every thought she had, but the highlights of her sexuality flashed into Claire's mind, giving her two pleasant shocks before withdrawing her mind into her own body once more.

She looked down, stopping her own dizziness at seeing Miley at her feet. Claire straightened up, grinning to the crowd. The bartender was now topless and screaming about free drinks for everyone as she held up her massive tip. Apparently the circle continued.

"Looks like she may have had too much fun, girls! Don't worry, I'll take her home. Glad you liked the show!"

Ten minutes later, Claire was in the back seat of a limousine, grinning as she spoke into her cell phone.

"No. I'm not joking. In the slightest..... I'm not surprised, I didn't believe it either.... Yes, I already have her.... No, and I'm not telling you how. That's not part of the contest. I've got her, and this is an official meeting. Come and see my claim, or you forfeit your candidacy...... I thought so. I'll keep her under until we are ready. Three hours. It's enough for her to sober up a bit and for you to finish... whatever it is you're doing, I don't want to know. Goodbye, girls."

Claire looked down at Miley as she closed her phone with a smirk, thinking of the two things she'd learned. A virgin. Maybe touched, but not spoiled. Only disappointed by boys. Good. Even better, perhaps.

And even more sweet, that second secret. Selena and Demi, hm? Claire could not wait to start designing their descent into her clutches as well.

It was impossible for Miley to know how much time passed. But when she awoke, she was laying on her back on a bed in the middle of a circle of light. Bed wasn't really the right word. It was more like an altar. Made of wood and about 3 feet high, it was topped with a very soft mattress that seemed like it must be filled with feathers or some such instead of a modern mattress. But no matter how she moved she wouldn't shift them out of the way and find harsh wood beneath, it was actually an extremely pleasant bed to be against.

She could see nothing beyond the light's boundary, and the source was directly above her but the nature was hard to tell. If she looked directly into it she would just see a glowing ball not intense enough to blind her, but otherwise seeming to be a distant light bulb. The directed shape of the light, and how it cuts off so sharply at the edge of the circle, is not natural though. There is literally moderate light and then blackness.

Miley herself was completely nude, save for a white silk sheet laid over her body. It covered her from shin to neck. Though she could sit up the sheet would fall away and uncover her.

And most frightening or all were the restraints. Leather straps were around both her wrists and ankles, the insides padded with silk and cushioning beneath it so they were actually not that uncomfortable. However they were attached to chains, each one running to a narrow wooden column at each corner of the altar. The chains disappeared into the columns, and a wooden hand crank was attached to a fifth, thicker and taller column about a yard from the head of the bed, well beyond Miley's reach. She had a foot or two of slack on each limb, but not enough to get out of bed or do much more than sit up.

Whispered voices came from the shadows, though no words could be made out precisely. But someone was there, and Miley was not alone in this strange place.
 
Delirium settled in for the brunette, and she only saw things through a haze. she heard the crowds of those around her... a successful performance if there ever was one. That brought a sleepy smile to the face of the dazed girl, and she tried to raise an arm to wave at them, but found her body sluggish, unresponsive. moved, dragged, shifted out, into a limo. Miley recognized limos, but not this one. Didn't know what to do or say. Couldn't really do or say anything. Her brain kept slipping, her own lyrics blaring in her head, the image of her arching body shouting them as she came for a crowd of cheering lesbians burned into her brain. There was some shame there, but not nearly as much as normal.

Eventually she slid fully into unconsciousness...

... to awaken to a bright light. The love poison still worked its wonders, leaving Miley not feeling the negative effects of the drinks she'd so carelessly knocked back, and among those negative effect: that of the hangover. Still the dazed girl, aching at the groin and around her nipples, could feel the light boring into her brain. she looked about, not recognizing where she was. At first she thought she was shooting another music video or something.

"Who owns my heart?" she muttered. Laughed. Tried to rub at her eyes, and heard the cling of metal. Those blue eyes flew open then, and Miley jerked upright. The shock and adrenaline made her awareness perfectly clear, and that included the restraints around each of her limbs, pinning her to the bed. The girl's head whipped, seeing each column in turn.

"What the hell?" she muttered. Then louder: "The the hell!? What the hell is going on here!?"

She strained against the restraints, testing them, just once. Realizing that she couldn't break free, Miley slunk back, looking into the darkness around her. Voices, she could hear voices. Another crowd? Was she going to be taken to an orgasm again?

"Claire?" she asked, blinking. "Claire, where are you? This isn't funny!"

she moved against the restraints again, blinking and moaning. Finally, she laid slack, breathing hard, wondering what had happened... and what was about to happen to her now.
 
The voices stopped as she called out to them. There was silence for a moment, then Claire stepped into the light. She wore a long black cloak that completely covered her body and a hood that hid some of her fed, but it was clearly her.

"Shhh, relax. Don't hurt yourself struggling."

She grinned down at her captive prey, looking back into the darkness as she spoke.

"I am sure you are curious where you are. I'm not going to tell you, obviously. But as a celebrity, I'm sure you're used to all sorts of weirdos. Let me just tell you this..."

She moved her head back around, looking down into Miley's eyes. "You're in the hands of the weirdest weirdos of them all. Now I know you're probably afraid you're going to suffer something horrible. But rest assured you will not be tortured or murdered or anything horrible like that. We didn't catch you to hurt you. So please don't start bawling and crying for us to spare you, that gets very, VERY old."

Claire seemed completely nonchalant about this all. She didn't act like anything particularly extraordinary was happening, despite the fact that she was starting to look like the leader of some sort of weird cult!
 
Now Miley outright stared as the beautiful blonde woman who had her screaming before strode into view. Claire now wore a concealing hood, and had a malevolent air about her that Miley couldn't quite handle. The girl swallowed, unable to quite stop the silent tears that started to form. She doubted this crowd would be cheering her on, but would instead silently watched as she was sacrificed in some sort of creepy ritual.

"You know who I am?" she said, blinking as realization sunk in. So they knew they'd captured the Miley Cyrus international pop star and role model to girls across the world. But that meant that they wouldn't care, or they had some trick up their sleeves.

"Then you know that people will wonder about me. They'll come find me!" she insisted. Her tears were flowing, but she wasn't sobbing. Much like the moans and cries of joy earlier, these tears were a reflexive action, something Miley's body did without her consent. She tried to rally, to look tough. She sat up, at least she could manage that, and she looked Claire dead on.

"What are you going to do to me anyway? You know they'll pay you, but then they'll catch you," she insisted. Anger started to bubble. she'd kissed this woman, cum for her. And this is how she was repaid? Tied up on an altar? Miley was furious, and sure that there had been some trick pulled on her earlier.

Though the dim memory of the love poison made her blush with remembrance.
 
Two gasps came from the darkness at Miley's words, confirming what Claire had said. One of them stepped forward into the light, revealing herself to be a woman dressed identically to Claire, who was grinning like the cat who ate the canary. She was also considerably older than Miley, as shown when she pulled her hood down. Though the cloak hid her figure, her face was at least shown to Miley. She was one of those beautiful asian women with brown hair and very pale skin, her features small and delicate. She wasn't quite as old as Claire, but was definitely pushing thirty.

"It IS her! I can't believe it! How?! HOW did you find her?!"

Claire wagged her finger. "Now now, Kimiko. I already told you that isn't part of the contest. Do you admit it? She is the real Miley Cyrus?"

Kimiko stepped toward Miley, scrutinizing her closely. They seemed to ignore her questions, not answering her burning need to know what was going to happen to her.

After some time the asian woman growled, closing her eyes and nodding. "Yes. I confess it's her. No one's that close in appearance, and she sounds like her too. You can't fake a voice like that."

Both of them then looked to the darkness, seeming to wait.

"... Well?"

That last voice came back quite annoyed. "Oh, I don't need to look at her. If Kim says it's her, it's her. She's always drooling over the fresh meat that company strings up on a hook for the world. I wouldn't expect her to be mistaken about it, she'll probably enjoy screwing her more than any of us."
 
While Miley could hear the words, and see all the movements, she still couldn't quite figure out was going on. A pretty Asian woman was examining her, looking her over as though trying to figure out her identity. True, there were many Miley Cyrus impersonators in the world out there, but few would be this good. None would be able to match the lean girl when fully naked. Though how any of them would recognize the naked starlet was beyond Miley.

The starlet looked from one person to another, then into the crowd, following each voice as it sounded. none of them were familiar, save, of course, for Claire's. The last words sent shivers down Miley's spine, and she could feel her skin start to crawl. "enjoy screwing her more than any of us." So... Miley was to be shared... passed around to this... women?

"Hold on, you can't--" began Miley, before closing her mouth. But they could. They could probably make her like it too; Claire had done just that only a short while ago. What was to stop them now? The girl bit her tongue, forcing her jaw closed. She'd have to be quiet, to listen closely and be prepared for whatever they did to her now. Not like she could escape anyway.
 
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