Consent is Not Required: Celebrities

BY : AryaStarkNaked
Category: Celebrities - Misc > General
Dragon prints: 19102
Disclaimer: I don't know SCARLETT JOHANSSON, SOPHIE TURNER, ELLEN PAGE, BILLIE EILISH, ALEXANDRA DADDARIO, ZENDAYA, JENNIFER LAWRENCE, BRIE LARSON, or OLIVIA HOLT. This fiction was made without pay or profit, all for your perverse enjoyment.

It was with a heavy sigh that the theater director Mister Benson paused the recording of their last practice, freeze-framing the star of the play mid-screen, one Miss Scarlett Johansson. His dark eyes swivelled from the screen to the high schooler sitting across from him on the couch as they had an after-school meeting in his office.
 
“Yeah, it’s not your best, Scarlett. It’s actually pretty bad.”
 
The high school senior’s shoulders dropped and her beautiful green eyes threatened tears. She barely heard her drama teacher as he started to pick apart her performance, feeling numb and dumb. The problems with her acting he was mentioning he couldn’t possibly actually feel were problems! It was all so subjective!
 
Anyone else who didn’t have her future in her hands, she would have snapped back with a snarky comeback, or argued that he didn’t know what he was talking about. But...she knew she had to impress him, so she sat and listened.
 
Over the course of the breakdown the much older teacher leaned closer and closer to the very busty teenager, sometimes resting his hand on the schoolgirl skirt she was wearing. This kept happening often, until his hand started brushing against the exposed bare skin of her leg that the wanna-be starlet Scarlett started feeling a churning feeling inside of her flat tummy that something was wrong, and she should get out of here.
 
Before she could do anything but open and close her plush lips a few times like a fish, the teacher’s eyes locked on the very busty swelling of her button-up shirt, before travelling up to her angular and perfectly formed face. As if he had every right to do it, he slid his hand deliberately up her skirt and rested his gnarled palm on her thigh. 
 
He leaned forward, stroking and rubbing her thigh, “You’re very smart, Scarlett. You know you’re going to need my help to get into that acting school in New York.”
 
Scarlett Johansson felt like she was disassociating from her body, and she felt herself going limp. It was like she could observe what was happening from a distance, across the room. His other hand grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into him, resting her head on his shoulder. His hand was between her thighs, rubbing her pussy.
 
His moans were searing themselves into her mind, the type of moan where there isn’t a doubt that the man is getting exactly what he wants. It was like watching a movie, the teen thought as in her distracted head she watched the scene unfold. Her cunt was soaked from her rubbing, and like a puppet on strings, she watched as she let him stand her up and tug her underwear to her ankles. During her repositioning, his cock had been sprung free from his pants, throbbing and hard.
 
She could only barely feel the pressure of the desk on which her tits rested as her teacher bent her over, and tried her best to block out the feeling of his cock sawing against her ass and pussy. Scarlett watched the scene in her mind, scoffing at how much of a slut the woman was until she remembered it was her, and she felt herself crashing back towards reality, all the while wishing she’d get up and run out of the room, never to see the creep again. Why was her pussy leaking?  

Was going to Lee Strasberg and becoming a famous actress worth this?
 
As her teacher’s cock slid inside of Scarlett Johansson’s burning cunt, he whispered “Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuckkk,” right into her ear as she shuddered and twitched under him. She didn’t move, she didn’t help him get off, but he continued to fuck her into the desk for nearly twenty minutes, until his fingers returned to her cunt in addition to the cock fucking her.

She began feeling dizzy, the world spinning in her mind as his grunts turned to primal groans. Some unreal sensation was building in her body like she’d never felt before, deep in her stomach. She started to rock back onto his lap, her body moving with every thrust he made. 
 
The scream from her unexpected orgasm would have given them both away, alerted anyone else left in the school, if he didn’t clamp his hand powerfully over her mouth as she convulsed with pleasure under him. He never let up through it all, pain and panic setting in as he went hard and faster, until his own end came and, deep inside of Scarlett Johansson’s tight teen cunt, he sprayed load after load of cum. 
 
When he slowly pulled from her, it was like he pulled a plug and the electricity went out. Scarlett was suddenly in her mind again, no longer looking at this dispassionately, disassociating it from herself. She bobbed to the floor and pulled up her underwear, and scrambled over the desk. She grabbed her backpack and practically ran out of the door to her car.
 
It was a furious, fast ride home, but she didn’t find any comfort there. She didn’t sleep that night, instead she rubbed herself way Mister Benson did, trying her best to recapture the feeling of his breath, his grunts, his touch. She came again, over and over, until her body couldn’t orgasm any more.
 
In a good, just world that would have been their first and only encounter. Actually, in a good world a beautiful talented woman like Scarlett Johansson would never have been raped by her drama teacher at all, but life wasn’t that way.  As life isn’t fair, or just, she stayed after school at least once a week for extra acting lessons from her teacher. In the end, he kept his word and she got an A+ in the class, and got a personal recommendation from him to attend acting school at the Lee Strasberg Theatre & Film Institute. 
 
From there the rest was history, and the beautiful teen would grow up and enter Hollywood, becoming the highest grossing woman actress of all time. 
 
The feeling of being raped never left her, not really. Recently she looked up Mister Benson to see if he was still teaching, and she saw that he was arrested six months ago for - what else - having sex with a student. That weight felt heavy on her. How many other women would have been saved if she had spoken up? Was having the life she did, the career she did, worth it happening to her? Or happening to all those girls she didn’t know? Would she do it again, if she knew what would happen?
 
She didn’t have those answers, and she hated herself for it.



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