Candace Falls
Candace adjusted her sunglasses and forced herself to give the photographers waiting on the steps outside her front door a smile.
It wasn’t necessarily the fact that paparazzi took photos of her that freaked her out, it was more the fact that sometimes it felt that they were hanging out with her all day. Where she went, what she wore, whom she dated, whatever Candace Falls did generated headlines across the world.
She was a naturally shy person who generally avoided interviews. She usually declined the offers she received to attend premieres or ceremonies unless she absolutely had to. It felt as though she had a giant magnifying glass on everything she did. It was unfortunate that this was the price she had to pay to be a platinum selling singer-songwriter in the celebrity-obsessed modern world.
“Sorry, what were you saying, Tilly?” She said, the flash of the camera slowly fading from her vision.
“I was saying, you really have to try Mr French. It’s just the best experience I’ve ever had!” Her friend told her.
Candace looked at the card her friend handed to her. It was simple plain white with text in an elegant gold embossed script.
‘MR EUGENE FRENCH—Private Beauty Styling Service For Exclusive Clientèle.’
“He solely caters to celebrities in their homes. It’s a totally discreet service. You’ll love it. I did!” Tilly laughed.
She turned over the card. There she found a single line written.
‘Select Appointments By Personal Request Only.’
“How do I book him?” She asked.
“He’s got a closed client list. He doesn’t have to give out his number any more. But I’ll pass along his contact details to Jenny and she can work it out. I’m sure he’ll make special time for you.” Tilly replied, smiling brightly.
It turned out that Mr French was willing to avail his services to Candace, although she would have to wait. Candace’s manager got her an appointment three weeks later. The stylist, unusually, insisted on complete privacy during his sessions, otherwise she would have asked Tilly to join her. This must be one hell of a haircut, Candace thought, as she waited in her apartment on the appointed night. Still, in the safety of her own home she felt she could relax in a t-shirt and yoga pants. Discretion was part of the deal, after all.
Her concierge called up at seven, announcing the arrival of the exclusive stylist. A short, well-kept gentleman appeared at Candace’s door.
“Hello, Ms Falls. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Eugene French.” He greeted her in a polite, clipped manner. He beckoned to someone lurking behind him.
“This is my employee Francisco. If you don’t mind, he’ll set up my station whilst we discuss what treatments you’d like to experience tonight.”
His caramel complexioned assistant brought in various items of furniture: A long mirror on wheels, a leather recliner with a small, light-weight stool, and a portable hair basin, attaching a hose for the water supply. Candace noted a tall tripod fitted with a high-powered halogen lamp. What would that be for? She wondered. Finally, he fitted out a small fold-out table with all the equipment Mr French would require.
“Thank you, Francisco. I’ll call you when I’ve finished.” Mr French told him.
After talking to him about his treatments, Candace decided she would like to have her hair styled in a new fashion that night. Taking a stool, he encouraged her to relax on the leather recliner. He sat hunched over, rummaging through his satchel, inspecting the many different tools he had packaged. Candace thought him an unremarkable man, a little on the obese side, with a scruffy grey beard. She wondered if he was gay.
“Please, take your shirt off and get comfortable.” He instructed.
A little self-conscious at baring her body to this stranger, his nonchalant eyes told her he was used to his clients wearing little when he administered to them. He didn’t blink an eye when she slipped out of her bra. Sitting back, she watched as Mr French pulled out several small unmarked tubs.
“I hand craft all my treatments. I’ve spent years experimenting with different ingredients.”
Opening one and dipping his pinkie finger into it, he held it up to Candace’s nose. She could smell a faint hint of ginger.
“Firstly, I’d want to use this bay leaf and bamboo exfoliating scalp treatment. Then, we’ll clean your hair using a purifying shampoo that contains Jujube bark and honey. Once I’ve dried and styled your hair, we’ll massage this passion flower and bees wax finishing crème into your scalp.”
He produced another tub.
“Then finally, I have this damiana leaf and capsaicin décolletage lotion for your skin.”
Candace nodded appreciatively. He certainly seemed to know his profession.
Mr French arranged everything properly, pulling the large mirror closer so Candace was able to see herself reflected. He began by massaging into her scalp the exfoliator. Silently, he began coating her blonde hair with the shampoo, running his fingers through the golden curls of her hair. The room began to fill with delightful floral scents. Sinking back into the chair, Candace luxuriated under his touch and allowed herself to be rinsed clean.
“Now, allow me to brush my crème through your hair whilst it’s still damp.” Mr French told her. From his satchel he produced a dark red wooden brush, and began tugging it through her hair, top to bottom, top to bottom.
“Just allow yourself to watch the brush as it moves, Ms Falls … just keep looking at the brush as it moves up and down …” He said, soothingly.
Sighing, feeling the tingling warmth on her scalp the shampoo had left, she could feel herself falling further down into the recliner. This feels wonderful, she thought. I can understand why he’s in such demand. She allowed herself to watch the slow strokes of his brush as he ran it up and down.
“Doesn’t it feel so nice to be pampered like this? So nice and relaxing … feeling that little tug on your scalp … watching the brush in my hand … relaxing … so relaxing …” He droned on.
He began massaging her naked shoulder with his free hand, ever so gently, feeling the tension smooth out from her muscles. He watched her focus on the brush and continued to talk. He lowered his voice almost to a whisper.
“Can you feel just how relaxed you are becoming, Ms Falls? … how wonderfully relaxed … that one could almost fall asleep …”
As he continued, Mr French continued to study her intently, seeing her eyes rise and fall, following along with his hand. Her eyelids began to droop almost imperceptibly. Slowing the brush even further, her eyes began to close entirely as he reached the very ends of her hair, and then slowly reopen when she felt it brush against her scalp again. He repeated the motion … her eyes falling closed, her eyes dragging back open once more. For long minutes he continued, slower and slower, whispering gentle encouragement every time.
He dragged the brush down, and stopped. Candace’s eyes remained closed. He watched in satisfaction as the young starlet’s head lolled to one side. Lifting the brush away completely, he studied her closely, her chest peacefully rising and falling. Into her ear he whispered.
“Can you hear me, Ms Falls?”
“Mmm …” She replied, dreamily.
“Does this feel good?”
“Yes …”
“Would you like to feel even better?”
“Mmm …” She murmured, languidly nodding her head in assent.
“I’m going to use my décolletage lotion on you now. Do you want me to use it?”
“Yes …”
“Then just keep your eyes closed, keep relaxing …”
Mr French reached for the small tub and popped off the lid. Carefully, using just a tiny dollop, he applied it to her forehead. Running his fingers in circles, she allowed him to roll her head around in a gentle rolling motion. He watched her reflection intently.
“Feeling so relaxed … so good … so sleepy … feel my fingers … feel your head moving … let yourself go … can you feel it, Ms Falls?”
“Mm … hmm …” Candace sighed.
“Feel your head moving in circles … feel your mind moving … feel your mind beginning to spin now … feel it spin … can you feel yourself spinning?”
“Mm … spinning …”
“Feel your mind spinning … keep feeling it …”
Slowing once more, he ever so gently coaxed her head into a tortuously slow motion, slower and slower. Her body had become completely limp in the chair.
“Feel your mind spin slower and slower now … slower and slower …slower …”
He stopped completely. He bent down. He could hear Candace snoring ever so softly.
“Your mind is so still now. You’ve never felt this peaceful, this relaxed, in your whole life.”
Candace smiled softly.
“You feel so good, don’t you, Ms Falls? Do you want me to make you feel even better?”
“Mmm …” She agreed.
“Now I’m going to rub a little more of my special lotion into your skin. And as I do, you’re going to feel yourself drop down. Down into a deep, wonderful sleepy trance for me.”
Brushing her damp hair away from her neck, he softly pressed his fingers against her skin at the hairline, just behind her ears. He stroked down to the collar of her neck. She moaned slightly with pleasure. Returning his hands to behind her ears, he repeated the movement.
“Feel that pleasure in your body, Ms Falls, every time I move my fingers. Feel your body dropping down further as my fingers reach your neck.”
Mr French continued with his delicate fingers.
“More pleasure each time. Deeper each time. So good. So deep.”
He watched as her breathing started to become more laboured with every slow stroke he made.
“So good. So deep.”
Her skin was beginning to become flushed. Her nipples were already erect.
“So good. So deep.” He kept going.
Candace was starting to writhe a little in her chair. She took short shallow gasps as she felt the pleasure grow.
“Do you like being touched like this, Ms Falls?” He asked.
“Yes …” She groaned.
“Do you like performing?”
“Yes …”
“Do you like it when people watch you?”
“Yes …”
He reached her collarbone and lifted his hands away.
“Don’t … don’t stop …” She gasped.
“What will you do if I continue?” He asked.
“Any … anything …”
“You’ll do anything to keep feeling this good?”
“Yes …”
“Tell me.”
“I’ll do anything to feel this good …”
“Good girl. Now, every time I stoke your neck, your pleasure will increase. And when you feel something cold and hard snap around your neck, all that pleasure will be bottled up inside you. Do you understand?”
“Yes …”
The hairdresser placed his fingers onto her collarbone. He drew them up to her ears. He repeated the process. Candace’s breathing became faster, but he kept up the same, slow, torturous pace. He continued for several minutes, until he was sure she was ready.
He pulled his fingers away from her. She shivered, anticipating his next touch. Reaching again into his bag, he produced a leather collar. Moving quickly, he snapped it around her neck. Knowing deep inside her sleepy mind exactly what that meant, Candace gasped with trapped pleasure. He looked down at her.
“Tell me you love to be watched, Ms Falls.”
“I love to be watched …” She moaned.
“Again.”
“I love to be watched …”
“Good. Now, I’m about to touch you in another place. And the pleasure you feel there will increase every time I stroke, just like before. It will build and build. And when you feel a cold sharp pinch, all that arousal will again be bottled up. Do you understand?”
“Yes … yes …” She agreed.
He dipped his fingers into the lotion once more. Placing his fingers above her left nipple, he teased the hard nub. He touched her areola, and, ever so softly, pulled his fingers up and off the point. She moaned with pleasure again, the heat of the cream making her whole breast tingle. He repeated his touch over and over, teasing her, forcing her arousal ever higher. He watched her arms tense. She gripped onto the arm rests. Every time his finger slipped off, she pushed up her chest to desperately gain more sensation. Satisfied, he produced another item from his bag. It was solid steel nipple clamp, with tiny little decorative silver butterflies dangling down from it. He squeezed it open and then suddenly released it, allowing it to sharply grip around her engorged nipple. Candace squealed aloud, both pleasure and pain bubbling inside her deliciously teased body.
“Tell me you need to perform.” Mr French said.
“I need to perform!” She gasped.
“Louder.”
“I NEED TO PERFORM!”
“Excellent. You’re going to be putting on a very special performance for me tonight. Now … let’s start again. Remember, all the pleasure you are about to feel will build and build. It will build until you feel another jolt of pain. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand!” She confirmed, in a strangled voice.
He repeated his teasing once more, this time on her left nipple. Brushing in and up, in and up. Pulling his fingers together, a touch as soft as a feather, allowing the lotion to excite her even more. Candace felt herself turning wild with arousal. She couldn’t focus on anything except the next stroke of his fingers. Her whole body was tensing in preparation for the next stroke. Her knuckles were turning white as they held on desperately to the chair.
“Building and building. Feel all that pleasure. Feel it build, Ms Falls.”
Mr French knew he needn’t keep up his torture for as long as before. The sheen of sweat on her forehead and her strangled moans told him all he needed to know. He produced the second butterfly-decorated clamp. Again he manoeuvred it around her aching, straining nipple. She guttered like an animal when he allowed it to snap close. She was shaking with lust, so much sensation centred in her erogenous zones that her mind was nearly overwhelmed already. He spoke once more.
“Would you like to feel even better?”
“Yes! Yes!” She pleaded.
“Will you follow my commands?”
“Yes!”
“Say it aloud … and make it your truth!”
“I’ll follow your commands!” She wailed.
“Very good. My first command: Stand up.”
Shivering, she obeyed. He told her to turn and face him. She stood and allowed him to pull down her yoga shorts until they nestled around her ankles. He encouraged her to step out of them and embrace her nudity.
Mr French retrieved two final implements from his bag, and knelt between her long, thin legs. He could see the evidence of his ministrations clearly between her thighs. Her lips were full and engorged. There was a sheen of wet arousal coating them. He looked up. She was obeying his command, even through all her trapped arousal. She stood as still as she could manage, the silver butterflies dancing from the clips. He began talking once more.
“Remember my commands, Candace. Remember the pleasure you are about to feel will rise with every stroke. It will build and build. And then you will feel something. It will be hard and sharp and painful, but you will know that it has bottled up all the pleasure you have felt so far. Tell me what will happen to you.”
“All … all the pleasure … built up … bottle …” Was the best she could manage.
He picked up his first implement of torture. It was a long feather. He placed the very tip at the base of her quivering slit. He ran it over her lips until finally flicking it off her clitoris.
“Now repeat after me: I love to be abused.”
“I love to be abused!” She shrieked.
He rewarded her with another slow flick.
“Again … I love to be abused.”
“I love to be abused!”
He stroked his beard and looked at her. He knew he needn’t continue much longer, but he had to make sure this last command truly stuck. He tortured her again and again.
“Louder, Ms Falls … I love to be abused.”
“I LOVE TO BE ABUSED!”
Another slow, delicious flick.
“LOUDER!”
“I LOVE TO BE ABUSED!” Candace was yelling at the top of voice, hoarse and needy.
The hairdresser picked up the last item he had brought with him: a long steel clitoral clamp, yet more dangling butterflies decorating it. He lifted it up into position. He told her to repeat his command one final time.
“I LOVE TO BE ABUSED!” She screamed.
He pulled it apart and eased it around her sensitive hood. The sudden cold pressure nearly broke the poor young woman, but his hypnotic command held firm. All that arousal was successfully trapped inside her boiling body. Her legs failing her, she fell forward, but Mr French was quick. He scooped her up into his arms. He lifted her body and placed her back down onto the chair and surveyed his victim. Bright pink blotches of arousal blossomed all over her cheeks and chest. She was shivering with unsatisfied lust. He knew that she was ready.
“Tell me, Ms Falls. What do you love?”
“I … I love to be watched … I love … to perform … I love to be … abused …” she moaned in a low, deep voice. Her mind was gone completely, subdued by all that unreleased pleasure..
He made her repeat it a few more times to ensure it had sunk in. Her breathing slowed as she spoke her commands out loud. He watched her slowly relax as she accepted it. Her body was in full control. Her unquenched erotic need would drive her to obey.
“Are you ready to put on a very special private performance for me?” He asked.
“Yes … ready …” She moaned.
“Stand up.” the perverted beautician told her. “Let me just turn on the light.”
He flicked on the halogen lamp his assistant had plugged in earlier. From his devious bag of tools, he produced an obscenely large dildo, ridged with veins, along with a digital video camera.
“You’re going to give me a show, my dear. Do as you are told now. Take this and lie down on your back.”
Candace obeyed, feeling the intense heat of the lamp on her skin. Her pale, naked skin shone with sweat. She knew instinctively what she had to do. She had to perform. She had to abuse herself. She began teasing the tip of the dildo against her intimate lips, coating it with her liquid arousal. She groaned at the sensation on her most sensitive spot. Unable to wait a second longer, she started pushing it inside herself inch by inch, feeling her sensitive lips stretch to accommodate it. She threw her neck back in abandon.
“Eyes up here, Ms Falls. Remember, you love to be watched. Look into the lens while you fuck yourself.” Mr French commanded as he focused his camera on her closer, filling the screen, filming her in merciless high definition.
She groaned and looked up, a terrible vision of need as she filled herself up with the dildo.
“Why don’t you sing ‘Magic In My Body’ as you do, Ms Falls? I think your lyrics would fit the occasion perfectly.”
Propping herself up on her elbows, her cheeks flushed with craving, she began to sing for him.
“Do it tonight, you wouldn’t believe … can you see the lights in my eyes, baby?”
Her hips began bucking wildly, feeling the eroticism of the lyrics in a way she had never experienced before.
“You know what I need and just what I want … can you feel the … ahh! … magic in my body?”
She was struggling now, her gasping arousal reducing her voice to a throaty growl, her pinched nipples throbbing with something close to agony.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon …” She moaned as she pushed up her hips and slid the phallus into her pussy in time to her own frantic urging.
“Faster Ms Falls …” Mr French ordered. “Put your heart into it.”
“I know … I know … what I need and I need it fast and … uh! … hold me and touch me, I’m ready for … ah … for … for … you …” She struggled, feeling her orgasm unstoppably rising, her trapped clitoris pulsing as though it were going to explode with the awful sensations.
“Good girl!” He told her. “Now, cum for your audience!”
“I’m … I’m … I—” Her voice stuttered and broke entirely as she burst into a long howl of rapture. Her thighs squeezed together as the waves of pleasure overwhelmed her tiny body. She fell onto her back, exhausted, her freshly cleaned golden hair now stuck with perspiration, her fingers twitching. Mr French zoomed in his video camera for a close-up of her dribbling, pulsating pussy, still stretched wide by the dildo.
“Bravo, Ms Falls … I think that was probably your greatest performance.”
The first of many, he thought darkly to himself.
“MANHATTAN GAZETTE, SUNDAY—Pop starlet Candace Falls, 22, couldn’t wait to hang out with her BFF Tilly Graves, as the pair went for a spa together at Silver Mirror.
The formally demure singer, who had previously claimed to relish her privacy, has recently revelled in a new ‘dirty-girl’ persona, flashing her assets at every opportunity.
With her hair perfectly styled, whose single ‘Magic In My Body’, taken from her fourth album, reached number one on the Bilboard charts this week, looked confident as she strutted out of her apartment on the upper East Side.
Can-Can skipped around arm-in-arm with model Tilly, and the pair appeared to be quite animated while picking out hair products. Candace proved that she’d definitely had her beauty sleep, looking wild in a see-through bustier and a pair of sexy fishnets.”