Weinstein and Trump

Posted on: 24/03/2018, by :
Sin Central

Spacey, Weinstein, Trump and even Rolf Harris. Nasty men with varying degrees of power that they needed to leverage for sexual gratification. A long tradition dating back to the ancient Greeks. A tradition that Hollywood has burned into its DNA.

The #MeToo movement is fighting back, but when the Commander in Chief of the Free World is a borderline raping machine the odds of success look grim.

And the feisty female hero (Melody Bright) of my novel, Digital Blonde, has first hand experience. After a fall from grace this unlikely pop star finds herself in Vietnam, auditioning for a slot on the judging panel of the ‘highest rating reality based TV show in the Asia Pacific region’.

And this is a problem because the mysterious media mogul (Danny Hoo) has ‘sexual predator’ near the top of his charge sheet.

Here is an extract from the novel where Melody faces a most unwelcome dilemma.

Digital Blonde: The Hacienda

‘Melody knew that her actions in the next few minutes would be critical to her mission. She kicked off her borrowed shoes and cruised towards the withered pensioner, her quivering grin signalling consent to whatever diabolical activity he had in mind. The belt slid away easily. Then Hoo stepped closer and waited until out of desperation Melody removed his brocade tunic. It took longer to remove his corset, after which he placed her hands on his flaccid paunch, making romantic comments about moonlight and roses before finally removing his underpants and stepping into the Jacuzzi with a cheeky wiggle of his sagging bum.

‘We make it here on the estate,’ he said, pouring two large glasses from a bottle of something ghastly that also contained a dead snake.

As he sipped the wine only his head was visible above the bubbles, and the way it twitched suggested his hand was busy down below. ‘Don’t look so nervous. Maybe you do little dance, express yourself.’
‘(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear’ was now playing. Melody shuffled her feet.

‘And after you dance you join me for drink and a smoke. You like to smoke?’ asked Hoo, casting his hand across several fag packets on the side.

Presumably this counted as foreplay in his culture. ‘I love a good smoke, the more the better my old vocal coach used to say.’

‘Then dance, like the girls at your Stringfellow’s and I shall reward you with more cigarettes than you ever dreamed of.’

Most of the girls Binksy hired for her promotional videos made their living at Stringellow’s and similar establishments, so she knew the drill. She muttered ‘Five. Million. Large,’ took her hem and lifted the Batman dress, like removing a T-shirt.

Hoo blew smoke rings, veins standing proud across his brow and Melody ran her hands over her damaged tits, grinding her hips before bending over to grip her ankles in the time honoured tradition. His drooling, upside-down face was turning an ugly shade of puce as he promised to take her to heaven in addition to other religious metaphors.

For various reasons it was difficult not to vomit, even though at Binksy’s direction she had been through much worse. The old tosser wanking in the froth was no different to every casting agent or director she’d ever met. In truth, without support from an organisation like SPRITE, degrading sex with repulsive men was usually the only way to succeed in her industry. It was the norm. Almost every female star (and most male stars) regularly went through this and worse to bag the leading roles, the lucrative merchandising and industry awards; all to avoid the horror of their council estate origins, living in a two room bedsit, feeding their babies on fifty quid a week, actually paying for shoes and watches and dresses and restaurants and air travel. Melody understood all too well and slid a hand into her panties, easing them down to give Hoo a glimpse of the promised land.

Tonight she would limit him to his mouth and hands. Then she would excuse herself, plant the cameras, claim she had become unwell after a wonderful evening and say goodnight with a hint of more, hoping to be asked back tomorrow when she would complete the mission. He was gurgling, his head at a funny angle as she stepped out of her knickers and danced towards the Jacuzzi with a twirl so he could fully appraise the goods.’

 

If you want to read more about Melody’s adventures just click on this nifty link https://www.books2read.com/b/bxgWJk?edit=true 

You will be transported to your favourite digital store where you can buy Digital Blonde for free for a limited period.

Go on, treat yourself! You know you’re worth it…

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