Chapter 1: Introduction
Rachel sighed during a commercial break after feeding news for the umpteenth time. "My coffee is cold again, Chris!" says Rachel in her tight-fitting dress with ample cleavage, the kind that helped make her nationally famous and be in movies and now as a newscaster. Her attitude reflects the pretentious personality that she developed over the years from getting everything that she wants. But little does she know that today is the day that changes.
Her assistant, Chris, a tall skinny intern with a mop of curly hair, jumps up from his seat and scurries over to her desk. "Sorry, Rachel! I'll get it for you right away."
Rachel rolls her eyes at his eager response. "Don't bother, just make sure my next cup is hot." She turns back to her desk and starts scrolling through her phone, scrolling through notes she had made for the next segment.
Suddenly, her head snaps up as Mr. Harper walks into the newsroom, his face as stern as she's ever seen it. "Rachel, got a minute?" he asks, his voice serious. Rachel raises an eyebrow, setting her phone down. "Of course, Mr. Harper. What's up?"
"Change in plans," he says, handing her a sheet of paper. "I've added a breaking news segment to the Teleprompter for when the commercial break ends. Just read what's on the screen." With that, he turns on his heel and walks out of the newsroom, leaving Rachel staring at the paper in her hand, her mind racing. She has no idea what's coming, but she can tell by the sudden shift in her boss's demeanor that it's big.
She crumples the paper in her hand, tucks it into her pocket, and straightens her back as the "On Air" light flickers on.
"...and now, breaking news. Our sources have confirmed that our network has been acquired by a new parent company. Naked News, a branch of the rapidly expanding Adult Entertainment Industry, has taken control of our operations effective immediately," she reads, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. She glances at the camera, sees her reflection, the shock in her eyes. She quickly looks away, focusing on the words in front of her.
"All news anchors will..." Her voice wavers, and she swallows hard, trying to grip the edge of the desk. "Will remove... their clothes... while reporting the news. Effective immediately."
Rachel's heart pounds in her chest as she glances over to Mr. Harper, who is now standing just off-camera, his arms crossed, his expression stern. He nods, indicating for her to continue. "Mr. Harper?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, "What do you want me to do?"
He gives her a look that sends a chill down her spine. "Rachel, you know what you need to do. It's business. Now, get on with it."
Her eyes widen in disbelief, but she knows she can't argue. She looks back at the Teleprompter, her mind racing.
She can't believe this is happening. But it is. She feels for the button behind her skirt, her fingers trembling slightly. She unbuttons the skirt hem, slides down the zipper, and feels the cool air on her thighs as the skirt falls to the floor. She takes a deep breath and continues reading the news, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "In other news, the stock market has seen a significant..."
Across the studio, the men look at each other, eyes wide. There's a slight pause before the cameraman refocuses, zooming out to include her legs in the shot. Rachel swallows hard, her cheeks flushing as she feels their gaze. She keeps her eyes on the Teleprompter, her hands moving to her blouse, unbuttoning it slowly, revealing the lacy bra underneath.
She can feel the camera lens on her, the heat of it, but she forces herself to stay focused. This is her job now. She shrugs off her blouse, letting it fall to the floor, her heart pounding in her chest. The Teleprompter scrolls on, the words blurring together as she tries to concentrate. She glances down, sees her bra and panties in full view, and her stomach twists with nerves. But she takes a deep breath and keeps reading. "...industries are expected to see growth in the coming quarter..."
Across the studio, the men are frozen, their eyes glued to the screen. The director, a middle-aged man with a beard and a clipboard, swallows hard, his eyes darting between Rachel and the monitor. He knows he should stop this, knows he should tell her to put her clothes back on, but he can't look away.
The director's eyes are glued to the monitor, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches Rachel's fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra. She stutters slightly as she reads the news, her voice wavering as her fingers struggle with the tiny hook. "...latest trends...showing an upward...upward...upward movement in..." She swallows hard, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "...consumer confidence..."
She finally manages to undo the clasp, her breath hitching as the bra falls away, revealing her breasts. She quickly crosses her arms over her chest, trying to maintain some semblance of modesty. Her eyes dart to Mr. Harper, who is still standing off-camera, his expression unreadable. She knows she's in way over her head, but she also knows she can't back down. Not now.
Not in front of the whole studio. Rachel's heart hammers in her chest as her fingers brush against her hips, her breath coming in short gasps. She looks down at her panties, her eyes wide with panic. She can't do this. She can't take them off. She's not ready.
Suddenly, a tall, attractive man wearing a robe and sandals walks up next to the director, his appearance commanding attention. The director looks up, startled, his eyes widening as he takes in the man's attire. "Who are you?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man smiles, his eyes never leaving Rachel. "I was sent over from Naked News. I'm here to give the audience a show after Rachel's panties come off."
The director's eyes widen in shock. "What?
That's not part of the agreement!" the director splutters, his face turning a mottled red. But the man just smiles, his eyes gleaming with lust as he watches Rachel on the monitor. "Oh, but it is," he purrs, his voice low and dangerous. "It's all part of the show now." He turns to the director, his smile fading. "And you're going to make sure Rachel finishes the segment, aren't you?"
The director swallows hard, his eyes darting between the man and the monitor. He knows he has no choice. He nods, his throat dry.
"Yes... Yes, of course."
The man smiles, satisfied, and turns back to the monitor. The director watches as Rachel takes a deep breath, her hands trembling as she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. She looks up at the camera, her eyes meeting the lens, her cheeks flushed. She bites her lower lip, her breath hitching as she slowly slides her panties down her legs, revealing her bare, trimmed pussy.
A collective gasp echoes through the studio as the men watch, their eyes glued to the screen.
Rachel's cheeks are ablaze, her hands shaking as she kicks her panties to the side. She stands before the camera, completely naked, her body on display for the entire world to see. She's never felt so vulnerable, so exposed.
But she's a professional, dammit. She's Rachel fucking Lopez, and she won't let some sleazy producer and his pervert's dream of a network dictate her worth. She forces a smile, her voice steady as she continues reading, "...and in local news, the mayor will be announcing a new initiative to improve city infrastructure..."
Suddenly, she feels a warm hand on her breast, a gentle yet firm squeeze that sends a jolt of electricity through her body. She gasps, her eyes shooting to the director, who looks as shocked as she feels. The tall man from Naked News is behind her, his robe discarded, his naked body pressed against her back. His hands are on her breasts, massaging them, thumbs tracing slow circles around her nipples.
Rachel's breath hitches, her body tensing as she tries to focus on the Teleprompter, but it's getting harder and harder to concentrate. "...city council members have agreed to allocate additional funds for..."
His hands move lower, one cupping her ass, the other sliding between her legs, fingers brushing against her wetness. Rachel gasps, her hips jerking forward, her eyes fluttering closed. Harper!" she cries out, her voice a desperate plea for help. But the director just watches, his eyes wide with shock and arousal.
Suddenly, the man behind her grabs a fistful of her dark hair, yanking her head back. Rachel cries out, her eyes snapping open as she's bent over the news desk. She struggles, her hands gripping the edge of the desk, her knuckles turning white.
"Harper! Mr. Harper, please! What do you want me to do?" she begs, her voice high-pitched with panic.
The director swallows hard, his eyes darting between Rachel and the monitor. "Rachel... Just... Just stay in character. Keep reading the news. It's all part of the show now."
Rachel's eyes widen in disbelief. No, I can't! I can't do this!" she cries out, her body trembling as she feels the man's cock pushing against her entrance.
The director's voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. "You have to, Rachel. It's what they want now. Just read the news and... and let him do what he's going to do."
Rachel's eyes fill with tears, her lower lip quivering.
She grips the edge of the desk tighter, knuckles white, as the man behind her pushes his cock inside her pussy. Rachel gasps, her body tensing at the intrusion, her mind still reeling from the shock of what's happening.
"Fuck!" he grunts, grabbing her hips and pulling her back against him. Rachel cries out, her eyes shut tight, as he starts to move, his cock slamming into her with forceful thrusts. She can feel every inch of him, every vein, as he pounds into her. The desk creaks under the assault, the Teleprompter screen shaking with each thrust.
Rachel's tits bounce with the force, her nipples brushing against the cool surface of the desk. The man behind her grunts with each push, his grip on her hips tightening, his fingers digging into her flesh. Rachel's breath comes in ragged gasps, her body betraying her as it starts to respond to the rough fucking.
She tries to focus on the Teleprompter, her eyes scanning the words as she reads, "...the city's new initiative aims to...oh god...to improve public transportation in...fuck...in high-traffic areas." She stumbles over her words, her body rocking with each forceful thrust.
The man behind her grunts, his grip on her hips tightening as he slams into her harder, faster. "That's it, baby," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Read the fucking news.
Louder, you little slut," the man growls, his grip on her hair tightening. Rachel whimpers, her eyes brimming with tears, but she forces herself to focus on the Teleprompter. She takes a deep breath and continues, her voice trembling, "...and in sports news, the local basketball team has secured a new sponsorship deal with...oh god, please...with a national brand."
The man behind her chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down Rachel's spine. He leans down, his lips brushing against her ear. "You're doing so well, Rachel," he whispers, his voice thick with lust.
"Such a good little news whore. Keep reading." He pulls back slightly, his hips slowing their relentless pace, allowing Rachel to catch her breath. She whimpers, her body aching with the need for release, even as she fights against the humiliation of the situation.
"Now, turn your head to the side," he commands, his voice firm. Rachel hesitates for a moment before doing as she's told, her cheek pressing against the cold surface of the desk. The man behind her leans down, his lips brushing against her earlobe. "I want you to beg for it, Rachel.
Beg me to fuck you harder, faster, and deeper. Beg me to make you come," he demands, his voice laced with dominance and filth. Rachel's mind is a whirlwind of fear, humiliation, and unexpected arousal. She knows she shouldn't enjoy this, but her body is betraying her, her pussy clenching around his cock as if eager for more.
"Please... fuck me... harder," she manages to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper. The man behind her chuckles, his hips picking up the pace once again. He reaches around, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in tight, cruel circles.
Rachel's breath hitches, her hips bucking against him, her pussy growing wetter and wetter. She can feel her inner walls expanding and contracting, sucking him deeper with each thrust. She struggles to focus on the Teleprompter, her eyes fluttering closed as she tries to concentrate, but it's getting harder and harder to form coherent thoughts.
Suddenly, a voice rings out from the control room, "Rachel, you're a fucking natural at this! The ratings are through the roof! Keep it up!" Rachel's eyes snap open, her gaze darting to her clothes scattered on the floor, particularly her panties, which were on moments ago. A wave of humiliation washes over her, but it's quickly replaced by a dark, twisted hunger.
She turns her head slightly, looking over her shoulder at the man behind her. "You want me to finish? Fine," she growls, her voice thick with defiance. "But don't think I won't make you pay for this later."
The man chuckles, his fingers tightening in her hair. "I look forward to it, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with sexual promise. "But for now, finish the broadcast. And don't think you'll be able to put those panties back on. They're mine now."
Rachel's breath hitches, her body tensing as she feels a fresh surge of arousal. She hates him, hates this, but her body is betraying her, her pussy clenching around his cock as if eager to please. She turns her head back to the Teleprompter, her eyes burning with unshed tears.
"...and now for local weather. Meteorologist Alex will be joining us shortly with an update on the current conditions." She swallows hard, her body trembling as the man behind her starts to fuck her even harder, his hips slamming against her ass with brutal force.
She feels every inch of him, the friction of his cock rubbing against her G-spot, sending electric shocks through her body. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her tits bouncing with each forceful thrust. "Fuck... me... harder..." she manages to choke out, her voice thick with desire and humiliation.
The director, his face flushed with arousal and excitement, leans into his headset. "Alex, you're on. But we need you to... undress. Show the viewers something extra today." Rachel's eyes widen in shock as she hears Alex's reply over the earpiece. You can't be serious! I can't do that, Director." "You must, Alex. Just do it."
Rachel watches in disbelief as Alex, a mild-mannered man in his 20s who resembles Brad Pitt, appears on the screen behind her. He swallows hard, his hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.
"Um, in today's forecast, we're looking at a chance of, uh, showers and, and... fuck, this is weird," Alex stammers, his cheeks flushing pink as he tugs off his shirt, revealing his toned, hairless chest.
Rachel can't believe what she's seeing. This is fucking insane. But despite her disbelief, her body responds, her pussy clenching around the cock pounding into her from behind.
The man behind her chuckles, his lips brushing against her ear. "Looks like you're enjoying the show, Rachel.
Watching Alex strip while getting fucked by a stranger. You're such a dirty little slut, aren't you?" the man behind her growls, his fingers digging into her flesh, his cock filling her pussy with each forceful thrust.
The man holds his hand over Rachel's mouth so her moan won't be broadcasting as he comes into her hard. Rachel looks at Alex as her eyes blur from the tears and sweat dripping into her eyes. He pulls out as hot semen spills down her thighs.
Rachel quickly walks away, her bare feet slapping the cold floor, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her. She can still hear Alex's voice, stumbling over the weather forecast as he reluctantly undresses. The director's voice crackles over the headset, "Alex, you heard me. Take off your underwear. Let's give the audience something to look at." Rachel's cheeks flush with humiliation and anger. She can't believe she just let that happen, that she let some stranger fuck her on live TV, let him fill her pussy with his cum. She glances back at Alex, sees him slide his underwear down, his cock springing free. She looks away quickly, her eyes burning with unshed tears. This isn't right. This isn't what she signed up for. But she can't stop now.
She turns her head towards the monitor, watching Alex's face flush even redder as he quickly finishes the weather forecast, his voice shaking with nerves and arousal. "And that's your local forecast. Stay tuned for more updates." His words tumble out in a rush, and he quickly turns off his camera.
In the control room, the director takes a deep breath and counts down with his fingers. "Five... four... three... two... one..." He points at the cameraman, who immediately cuts the feed. The studio is filled with a sudden, palpable silence, the only sound the faint hum of the lights.
Rachel stands frozen for a moment, her body still trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She looks around the studio, at the men who had been watching, now turning away, their cheeks flushed, their eyes averted.
For a moment, no one speaks, the silence heavy with awkwardness and embarrassment. Then, from the back of the room, a slow giggle sounds, a sound of relief and release, as if a tension that had been building for hours finally found its outlet.
The giggle turns into a slow clap, and then another, and another, until the entire room is filled with the sound of clapping and laughter. It's a crazy situation, a ridiculous, absurd, and surreal moment, and they're all laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. Rachel looks around, her eyes wide, her cheeks still flushed, her body still trembling.
She can't believe what just happened, can't believe she just let that man fuck her on live TV. But before she can process her thoughts or actions, Mr. Harper walks into the studio, his face a mask of fury. He sees the state Rachel is in, her clothes scattered on the floor, her body still exposed, and his expression darkens even further. "Tomorrow is another day, and you're still under contract."