#series
“I have to tell my Sestra”
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This is a collaboration project between @les-boobs (the art) and @ybsl (the brain).
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Em 2005, logo após o fim de “Friends”, Lisa Kudrow apostou todas as suas fichas em uma nova série. Era “The Comeback”, uma série queridinha pelo público orfão de Phoebe Buffay, mas que não emplacou na época.
Nove anos depois, parece que a série ganhará uma segunda chance na TV. Roteiristas da HBO já estariam trabalhando na série há algumas semanas e os episódios se passariam, claro, nove anos depois do último trazendo todo o elenco original de volta. Entre eles Malin Ackerman, Kellan Lutz e, obviamente, Liza Kudrow. Inicialmente, “The Comeback” voltaria tomando forma de minissérie para testar a aceitação do público, se emplacar, uma temporada completa pode ser realizada pelo canal, segundo informa o site E! Online.
A série conta a história de Valerie Cherish (Lisa Kudrow), uma atriz que já fez muito sucesso, mas acabou com um papel mínimo em uma sitcom. Na tentativa de melhorar sua carreira, Valerie aceita participar de um reality show que acompanha sua vida profissional. Originalmente, a série teve 13 episódios e foi exibida entre 5 de junho e 4 de setembro de 2005 pela HBO.
FONTE: http://papelpop.com/2014/04/serie-de-2005-protagonizada-por-lisa-kudrow-pode-ganhar-mais-uma-chance-na-tv/
Site: PAPELPOP
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prologue; rain
we begin with the rain, the spring, and the flowers that grow in that time. love blossoms and grows, is new and fresh and knows as little as there is to know about love. but you supposed that’s what made it exciting. you were finally dipping your toe in new waters, and you’re finding yourself surprised.
word count: 1.2k
member: Jaehyun
It was raining, and raining hard; the kind of rain where, if life were an animated film, people would be ducking under shop covers with newspapers as umbrellas. There was something about quiet rainy nights. They seemed to be a cornerstone of your life, reliable and consistent and never faltering to make you feel completely insignificant. Car tires rolled you forward slowly, reluctance in the air as the hand cupping yours hardened its grip. You felt reality sliding back into your veins, pulsed into you with the constant strumming of his thumb against the back of your hand. He refused to drive anywhere without holding you near, his favourite mode of operation being tricky left turns to impress you along your simple city drives. Yet, it was a straight road home, lines separating lanes feeling like imaginary barriers you could slip in and out of. The barrenness of your street had you paying attention to the song quietly dripping from the speakers and the orange lamplights.
That was the funny thing about rain. It highlighted things you wouldn’t otherwise pay attention to. Lamplights only seemed to be orange when it was pouring out, but would resume their usual canary the second it stopped. Your favourite thing was looking at the way the wind blew the droplets every which way under the light. It was like you were watching a furious dance or perhaps a race, with no clear winner but definite plot twists. You felt a smile pull at the corners of your lips as you created stories in your head, watching drops hit the window like film spots in old movies.
“Hey.”
His voice came as a whisper, just above the slight pounding of the rain. Eyes torn from the road and all the thoughts in your head, you met yours with his. The brown in them was fading into the green he liked to claim he had none of in his eyes. The headlights were casting little shadows on his face, highlighting the more prominent parts of him- the sharp corners and edges of his facial structure you’d come to love to much.
“Hi,” you whispered back, a smile creeping onto your lips involuntarily. You caught a glimpse of his teeth beyond his stretched smile, one hand firmly on the steering wheel and attention back onto the road.
“What’s going on up here?” The point of his finger came to press against the middle of your forehead, the familiar scent of pumpkins brushing your nose as you caught a whiff of his sleeve. Your hand rose with his, and fell just the same, his grip strong when you were linked as such.
“Nothing,” you admitted, realizing your thoughts about rain and film spots and races amounted to just that, “just thinking.”
“About?”
Your smile pulled at your cheeks a bit harder, knowing he was going to keep pressing if you didn’t give him a straight answer. A breath was all you took before starting, “about how much I love you. Did you know that? That I love you?”
The passage of air between tight teeth and his lips hooking onto each end of his ears was enough for you. The answer made him giddy but he chose not to show it. He substituted a big hug for rub of your forehead with his thumb as you dipped your head to rest it on his arm while he drove.
“Dork.”
“I do kind of think about how surprising it is though,” you admitted, the idea suddenly coming to you. The pause you took made you realize it wasn’t a complete thought and you rushed to finish it off with, “like, how we’re together and stuff. Almost a year later and- and here we are, you know. Isn’t is weird?”
“Weird? No, I don’t think so.” He notched up an eyebrow at you, the look almost envious of the timing in which you brought the conversation up. You were so close to home, you would hardly have the time to really chat about it all.
Reluctantly, he made the left turn into your building’s driveway, slowly rolling through the parking lot as you picked up words to say that would be able to really encompass what you were trying to say.
“I guess we just went through a lot. There was Subin, Minseok, your whole band thing, hiding stuff from people, falling in love when we shouldn’t have; there was a lot. We were just supposed to be friends, right?”
You raised your arms up, waving around at nothing and everything. “Now look at us.”
“It was a lot, wasn’t it?” He decided on these words after rolling to a stop in his usual parking spot at the back of the lot, a big V marking the floor. He raised the back of your hand up for a kiss, holding it there to murmur words against it.
“I think it worked out for the best. Probably not the healthiest start to things, or the most advisable or repeatable, but I can’t say I regret it.”
“Can you?” he asked after a well mannered pause, definitely taking into account the fact that you hadn’t responded quickly enough.
“No,” you admitted, getting a proper look in his eyes now. He was focused, all his attention in one spot, filling you up from your heart into every crack and crevice you held.
It overwhelmed you sometimes, the amount you felt for him. Your heart knocked in your chest and you couldn’t believe one person had the power to make you feel this way. He lifted you off your feet and placed you back on the ground again but with arms and legs made of jelly and lips made of sour candy. You were a new person every time you were around him and yet, you were just as you always were as a kid: happy, whole, and completely yourself. Home meant the flecks of gold in his eyes and the freckles on his skin that he used to get made fun of for. Home was the way his lips made you see visions when they touched yours, and his hands that seemed to envelop yours even when they were the same size. A thousand feelings and thoughts and words rushed into every part of your body, little tendrils of the flame in your heart nipping at your eyes.
“Hey,” he whispered again, leaning across the console to place a kiss on your forehead. His hands let go of yours and came to either side of your face, thumb running little circles into the skin just above your jaw.
“You can’t go crying or you’ll make me start up.”
“I know,” you sniffled, holding it in as your eyes met again, “I’m sorry.”
A little giggle left his mouth as it did yours, both of you knowing each others tricks at this point. He didn’t even have to tell you to stop apologizing. He just bumped his nose against yours, clicked his tongue, and pulled you as close as you could get with the console in between.
“I don’t regret it,” you murmured quietly, ear pressed against his chest. Your eyes closed, yellow and white lights streaking across your eyelids from the passing cars just down the road.
“I don’t regret it for a second.”
His arms wrapped tighter around you. Your hand instinctively touched the pendent around your wrist, a little charm there in the shape of his name. You traced the J, feeling the pressure in your chest release with every single rub of your head.
“I don’t either. Not for a second.”
Drawing real life people is always a challenge for me but I am so honoured to be given the opportunity to draw the lovely Captain Uhura for Zoe
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This is a nifty (in my opinion) callback to the first story I ever wrote on here (this caption will make a lot more sense if you read that one first). Many thanks to the wonderful kennelmaster for supplying me with this photo. Enjoy!
*********************
It was all very sudden. One minute, Gloria was typing away at her desk, and the next, she was being pulled from her chair and dragged down to the floor. A foul smelling rag was pressed to her face and seconds later, she blacked out.
Gloria awoke on the floor. Speaking was impossible due to the white cloth wrapped tightly around her head and pushed into her mouth. Ropes layered her entire body, securing her arms behind her and her ankles, knees, and thighs together. She noticed with disgust that her skirt had been hiked up obscenely high and her blouse had been ripped open.
Surveying the scene, Gloria was confused and frightened. All of the desks on the floor had been pushed to the walls and a large wooden table had been placed at the front of the room. The terrifying aspect was that there were women scattered on the floor of the room, all of them bound in various manners. Many of them were stripped half or fully naked. A peculiar thought floated into Gloria’s head. These are all secretaries, where are the rest of the women?
A door near the table opened and people began to file out. They were all men save for one, who appeared to be a hooker of sorts. She was dressed in the skimpiest of schoolgirl outfits; her breasts stretched the extra small blouse to its limits, the grey plaid skirt covered her sex, but only by millimeters. White knee socks highlighted her shapely legs which were already being accented by 5 inch heels.
The men began filtering through the crowd of secretaries, except one, it was Frank.
Sirens went off in Gloria’s head. It’s time! This is it! Long ago, Frank had come to her, explaining to her how he was going to change the company, make it completely new. He told her that with her help, he would become CEO and would take her right with him to the top, Executive Vice President.
So Gloria had helped him. It all seemed so small, chatting up Christine, the current CEO, in the restroom. Suggesting new workout locations and dining establishments. Slipping the occasional pill in her coffee. Frank had assured Gloria that no harm would come to Christine, it was just all little things he needed to reach the top.
Wait….Christine, Gloria’s eyes sought out the hooker. Oh God Oh God! It’s her! What have I done!!? Frank started speaking
“Ladies, apologies for the inconvenience, but we have a very important announcement and didn’t want anyone wriggling away.” A few men guffawed at his joke. “You’ll notice we only have secretaries gathered here today. The other female employees will be receiving a different set of instructions, so there’s no need to worry about them. Now, I want to discuss some changes that will be happening here at-”
“Frank! FRAAAANK!” Gloria had worked the gag out of her mouth. “FRANK! We had a deal! You and I, we were suppo-” she was cut short by a stinging slap to the face. The man responsible quickly re-did her gag, this time much more tightly.
Frank stared at her and shook his head. “Right, I’m wasting my time explaining, a demonstration would be much more enlightening.” He waved hand toward the group, “Come on boys, let’s get started.”
The men in the crowd walked back to the front of the room, five remained behind in the crowd. Gloria counted 20 men up front; all of them quickly undressed. Christine had remained unmoving and expressionless throughout the entire scene. Frank turned to her.
“Ok Chrissyslut, kneel!” The CEO did not hesitate and knelt on the carpet, the men applauded. “Very good slut, now, crawl to Master.” The redhead immediately started crawling toward Frank until she reached his feet. She returned to her knees and looked up at him quizzically. “Excellent Chrissyslut! Now tell me, is there something you might be wanting?”
“Please Master, please fill my holes with cock and cum, it is what they were made for.”
Frank needed no further encouragement; he gripped a fistful of red hair and violently stuffed Christine’s mouth full of his throbbing cock.
Gloria and the other secretaries looked on for long minutes as their CEO was brutally facefucked by her own assistant. Finally, he withdrew from her mouth and ceremoniously splattered his sticky semen on her face. The rest of the men cheered.
Frank wiped his cock on Christine’s tits. “Dig in gentlemen.”
Like hyenas attacking a wounded lion, the men immediately set to work. Christine’s clothes were ruthlessly torn to tatters and she was hoisted up onto the table. The men surrounded her, their cocks out and hardening, ready to punish their former leader.
For nearly two hours, Gloria sat in horrified silence; she and the rest of the secretaries were held as a captive audience to the repeated rape of Christine. Any time one of them turned away or attempted to escape, one of the men patrolling would strike her and force her to look on. Sometimes they would jerk their own cocks off onto them. Gloria was repulsed as one particularly filthy looking man sprayed his seed all over her bra encased breasts. Their message was unmistakable. Our dominance is absolute.
Up on the table, Christine was much worse for wear. They twisted and stretched and bent her body into every position imaginable. Multiple cocks penetrated her at all times, and even then they made her stroke two more with her hands. Every ten or fifteen minutes, an assailant would squirt a steady stream of piss onto her body. The people up on the table were acting more like animals than humans.
With one final blast of cum into Christine’s ravaged pussy, the men finally relented. They left her slumped down face first in a putrid pool of cum, urine, and blood. She looked unrecognizable, her cum stained and battered body hardly passed for human at this stage.
Gloria searched around for any sign of hope, but located none. Men were unpacking boxes that were carrying syringes full of pink, brown, or black liquid. She noticed that Frank had dressed back up in his charcoal suit. He lit a cigar and blew a puff of smoke in the air.
“So, ladies,” he pointed at Christine’s motionless body, “that right there is the most powerful woman in one of the largest and most lucrative companies in the world.” He took another deep drag from the cigar, “What do you think that means for you?”
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is part 3 of a multi-part series featuring the same woman. All parts will follow a chronological order so I would suggest starting from the beginning. Here is Part 1 andPart 2
*********
Craig stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, feeling refreshed.
Stepping back into the foreign bedroom, he admired his latest capture’s taste in decorating, the pale walls and soft carpet emitted a warm, welcoming feel; he wondered how many men had succumbed to Rose’s charms in this room.
Craig’s eyes wandered to the bed where Rose continued to slumber. Flashes of the past evening played back in his mind. He had expected a good lay; they always were when they were under his control. However, this girl, she had been….different.
Her days as a yoga instructor had treated her well; the ways she could contort her toned legs, her flexibility had opened up entirely new positions to ravage her velvet pussy that not even he could have imagined. Then there was the skill and eagerness of her soft, wet mouth; she made sure to worship his cock and balls with tender care, every single inch of them. The most interesting moment though, was when he had been thoroughly spent; Rose had looked up at him with those simpering, sultry eyes. She had begged him to let her continue pleasuring him. Begged to service him more, not wanting to stop.
Craig shook his head free of the memory; he didn’t like this feeling, it was almost as though he were confused. Most women he ensnared were one day conquests. On the very special occasion, he might extend his stay for two. Rose however…..she had a peculiar effect on him. He saw a future with this girl. Not as an equal, but with her as his subservient wanton slut.
Maybe that’s what he would do; perhaps it was finally time to take on a long term slave. He gazed at her body again, watching her abdomen rise and fall rhythmically with each breath. Dammit how he wanted to take her again! She was so playful, yet so fiery and hot. Like the desert, Craig thought. My very own Desert Rose. His lips curled into a wicked smile at the thought of that nickname. Yes, my Desert Rose. MINE.
He strode to the bed, grabbing Rose’s arms, gently dragging her across the mattress until her head hung slightly over the edge.
With a quick flick, Craig’s towel fell to the floor. The lust in his loins rose like a an erupting volcano. He couldn’t believe how sexy she looked; asleep and unaware, she still called out to his desires. It was then that Craig decided, he was going to take this all the way, he couldn’t stand the thought of this woman ever heeding the commands of another man. It would begin now.
“Rose!” he barked sharply. Her piercing blue eyes snapped open, half in focus. “Open!”
Her lips parted and Craig stepped forward. As he rubbed his cock over her lips, he ran a single finger up and down her throat.
Mine, he thought, and plunged forward.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is part 2 of what a multi-part series featuring the same woman. All parts will follow a chronological order so I would suggest starting from the beginning. Here is Part 1.
*********
Rose closed the door to her loft behind her. Dropping everything, she quickly jumped into the shower, wanting to wash away the filth and creepiness of what had transpired earlier. I know that was cum, but how is that possible? I think I would remember someone shooting his load all over my face.
After she’d cleansed and dried herself, she checked her phone. To her surprise, there was a text from an unknown number flashing on the screen.
“Ms. Donahue, it was a pleasure making your acquaintance this morning; I presume you found it as enjoyable as I did. Unfortunately, now we have a slight problem. You see, I have several hours of work ahead of me and you are free for the rest of the day. I’m sure you’re confused as to what’s happening to you, and I don’t want you dwelling on that, so I have a task for you that will make you much happier. I want you to bake me a cake for tonight. You can choose whatever flavor you like, just make sure it’s delicious. Also, there’s going to be a delightful twist regarding this cake; it’s going to be tied to your brain. Every time you pour out a new ingredient, it’s going to feel as though you’re pouring out a bit of your brain. The minutes you spend mixing different ingredients together will symbolize your mind, which will be getting scrambled into mush. I know that it sounds scary at the moment, but don’t worry sweetie, I’m sure everything will turn out great by the time I arrive tonight. Ok Rose darling? Now get to work. -C.”
Rose read and reread the message several times. Her first thought was to call the police. What will they be able to do though? They’ll probably just say it’s some crazy stalker who’s messing with me. Rose then thought to call her parents, they would know what to do. She imagined having to tell them about the strange event this morning and the shame of it made her reconsider. No, I’m going to keep this to myself, nothing bad is going to happen.This is silly anyway, I don’t have to bake anything if I don’t want to. Exasperated, she plopped down on the couch and flipped on the TV, settling in to watch some trashy reality shows and zone out.
She made it about 30 minutes before her stomach started grumbling. Realizing she hadn’t eaten for several hours, Rose weighed the pros and cons of leaving the coziness of her blanket to satiate her appetite. Unfortunately, there was also a growing buzz inside her head, as though a mosquito was flying around her, searching for a landing zone. As she looked around and saw nothing, the buzz continued to grow louder and more incessant.
Bake. Bake. Bake. Bake. Bakebakebakebakebake.
Rose grabbed her phone and looked at the strange text again, carefully examining every word.
Bake. Bake. BAKE. BAKE. BAKE!
Rubbing her temples, Rose began to rationalize an excuse. She was quite hungry, and crafting desserts always seemed to help clear her head. What could be the harm of making a quick 30 minute cake? Even if that stupid text had told her to, it wasn’t like it was actually going to affect her brain in any way, that would be impossible!
Bake.
As she entered the kitchen, the buzzing subsided. I knew this would help. I just have to stay active and not dwell on anything from earlier. She quickly assembled everything required for a tasty angel food cake.
Ok four cups of flour. Rose scooped them into a mixing bowl. Each time the flour hit the bowl she felt a little better. Next she started cracking the eggs, and as they slid into the bowl, she felt a wetness leaking out of her ear. Touching it, she found it was water. Strange, I don’t usually get water in my ears. Looking back at the bowl, she lost count of how many eggs she had used and had to count them out individually before resuming. Finally, after dumping in a cup of sugar and a stick of butter, her creation was ready for the next step.
Rose giggled. About what, she had no idea. Maybe it was how silly everything looked clumped together in the bowl. Hmm, now what I am supposed to do? Why do I not know? I’ve made this cake 100 times. Looking back at the recipe, she found that the ingredients needed to be mixed. She plunged the small mixer into the bowl and switched it on.
Instantly, there was a strange sensation in her head, like someone was running a high pressure showerhead inches away from the base of her skull. What the? Rose continued mixing the ingredients, becoming sloppier by the second. Debris was flying out of the bowl, coloring her face and clothes.
She giggled again, what a great and fun idea this was! Once everything was mixed properly, she poured it into a pan and set the oven timer for 52 minutes. Wait, 52? That doesn’t seem right. She checked the recipe again and saw that it called for a 25 minute bake time, not 52. Silly Rosie, always forgetting the simplest instructions!
She then set out to make some whipped cream, pouring it into a small bowl and grabbing the mixer again. As the beaters spun round and round, Rose lost track of what she was doing. She dipped her finger into the bowl and tasted the whipped cream. Mmmm, it’s good, but I think it could use something else. Browsing through her cupboards, Rose found more yummy ingredients to add.
Mix Mix Mix.
Whatever was in the bowl now resembled more of a sugary goo than whipped cream. Rose couldn’t stop laughing. What was she doing in here anyway? A smokey aroma filled the kitchen and she ran to the oven. There was her concoction, burnt to a crisp after being left to bake for 45 minutes too long.
Oopsie! Now I remember. I need to like, bake a cake. But why again?
Rose scanned the kitchen for any hint as to why she was baking a cake and giggled at the mess she’d made. Oh well, I know I’m supposed to do it so I might as well start over. Gosh, how did get so hot in here? She stripped off her sweatpants and her sweatshirt and looked around the kitchen, ready to get back to work.
*********
Craig bitterly climbed the steps to Rose’s loft. It had been a hell of a day at the office and he needed an outlet to vent his frustration. He had a feeling the poor girl was going to be sporting some bruises after tonight.
He clacked the knocker on her door and heard a shriek. Frowning, he waited until the door swung open. His eyes widened at the scene presented to him.
There was Rose, clad only in a tanktop and a skimpy pair of cotton panties. There were smatterings of baking materials on her face and body. Looking beyond her, he saw the kitchen. It was a complete wreck; spilled ingredients, toppled dishes, and puddles of syrupy muck.
“Hiya Mr……ummm….Mr….what’s your name again?” Rose giggled brightly as she spoke. Craig couldn’t believe it, the girl’s brain must be incredibly malleable. He had expected obedience, but this, this was on another level.
The impish, subservient look of Rose combined with his need to release his tension took over Craig. In one swift motion, he scooped up Rose and laid her on the table, ripping her panties off cleanly.
“Golly Mister! You sure are strong!” Rose’s eyes sparkled with a mix of wonder and lust as Craig deftly pulled his slacks down. He was going to have her now and that was that. Like the mess of food strewn across the kitchen, she was just another treat that he was going to devour.
He drove his cock into Rose’s warm, inviting pussy and she squealed with glee. Craig clamped a hand over her mouth, he wanted this to be forceful and direct. Her pussy molded around him like a well fitted glove and soon he lost control, pumping viciously until finally, with a roar, he thrust his cock to the hilt and emptied his seed inside her.
Craig withdrew from the tender redhead’s body and pulled his pants back up. He was breathing in exhaustion, trying to refocus his thoughts about what he wanted to do with Rose when she sat up and spoke.
“Soooooo like Mister, that was fun and I really really liked it, but I think I messed up. I’m like, supposed to have something ready for you aren’t I?” Rose’s voice was cheery but Craig noticed a small hint of worry in her eyes.
She thinks she’s in trouble, Craig chuckled. “Listen my little Rosebud, everything is just perfect, you don’t have to worry about anything. Now, I want you to clean up this filthy mess you made and then come find me in the bedroom, alright?”
Rose giggled happily, “Ok I can do that! I promise I’ll do a good job too, Mr…..?”
“Just call me Master.”
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