iVortex 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Two minutes until Elizabeth,” Amanda Stone’s producer spoke via a small device directly into her ear. 

“Are we really letting her do this whole catwalk thing?” In the five years Amber had been hosting the Extra Late Show she had never had entertained a couple models when the show had trouble booking more major talent, but never before had she been strong-armed into allowing a miniature fashion show to steal her stage. She hoped Elizabeth brought her A-game because Amber had choice words ready for this pampered socialite. 

“We’ve been over this. With Angela canceling we don’t have a lot of options and guess spot that needs filling-”

“Fine, fine.” Amber interrupted, unwilling to hear the same speech a third time in a row. She would just have to deal with it. The studio band began to taper the melody and the music was subsumed in the audience’s applause. That was her cue. Amber faced Camera #2 and said, “You may have heard of our next guest. She is a rising star on the popular social media site Instagrand and a self-proclaimed trendsetter please give a big welcome to Elizabeth Mayberry!”

A popular song with a thrumming, vaguely sexual beat pumped through the studio speakers as Elizabeth took the stage. She was devastatingly beautiful in an asian-style red dress that showed off an excessive length of thigh. Amber was far from ugly, but Elizabeth made her feel positively plain. The sooner she got this woman off her stage the better. “Please,” Amber gestured to the overstuffed chair next to her desk. “Take a seat.”

Elizabeth soaked in the applause, deliberately moving too far across the stage so that she was forced to double back and give the audience, and the folks at home, a look at her overripe derriere. By the time she took her seat Amber’s expression matched her surname. “Thank you so much for having me,” Elizabeth gushed. “It’s such an honor.” 

“We’re glad we could get you on such short notice,” Amber replied diplomatically. “I’m sure you’re very busy.”

“Not really,” Elizabeth said.

Amber wanted to face palm, she had served up a softball and Elizabeth had missed it completely. She tried again, “Modeling does not take up a lot of your time?”

“Oh, I’m not really a model,” Elizabeth explained. “I’m a trendsetter.” 

The audience chuckled and Amber barely kept herself from frowning. “Can you explain for us what a trendsetter does?”

“Oh, you know,” Elizabeth said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. “I wear stuff I think is cute. And I make clothes look really good, so people want to look like I look.” She sat up straight and moved both hands down the contours of her body without actually touching herself. “Right ladies?” she called out and received scattered applause and a few whoops of approval. More approval than Amber had anticipated, she disliked Elizabeth more by the second.

“Well,” she began, shuffling her note cards. “It says here you are in the top 50 most followed people on Instagrand, how did you manage that?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Elizabeth said coyly. “I guess I’m just naturally popular?”

Amber pressed the issue, “Other personalities that as popular as you are tend to have some talent like acting or singing. What do you say to critics that claim all you have is sex appeal?”

Elizabeth’s smile might have fooled millions, but Amber saw the glint of anger in her eyes and suddenly worried that she had kicked a hornets nest. “My talent is branding,” Elizabeth replied coolly. 

“Branding?”

“When I wear something, its hot. When I do somewhere, its lit. If I wear or do things that are wack I lose followers. So it’s about making choices. Like when you tell a joke that no one gets people don’t care that someone on your staff wrote it, because you are the one that said it,” Elizabeth explained calmly. An ‘Oooooo’ hummed through the audience as the pretense of a friendly conversation was quickly deteriorating into something far more personal- and more entertaining.

Amber’s facade faltered and she scowled. “Most of your photos show a large amount of skin and it is well known that most of your followers are male. You aren’t suggesting that these men want to buy the clothes you wear, are you?”

Elizabeth laughed politely behind her hand. “Oh no, that would be silly. They would be swimming in my clothes, wouldn’t you little guys?” Elizabeth favored the camera with a wink before continuing. “They want their girlfriends to wear the clothes I wear, silly.”

“Ease up Amber, don’t scare off future guests,” her producer coached into her ear. Amber sighed.

“I see,” Amber said with as much warmth as she could muster, which was not much. She turned to the audience and said, “On that note, we have a special treat for you tonight folks: Elizabeth is going to model some of her favorite outfits! How does that sound?” To Amber’s chagrin the applause was overwhelming, especially from the male section at the left corner of the stage. 

“Oh goodie!” Elizabeth clapped her hands together and stood up. Two stage hands wheeled out a mobile dressing room that was really just curtains draped from some metal rods for privacy. Elizabeth applauded, and bounced up and down in excitement. The motion caused her ample bosom and jumbo backside to bounce and wobble in tantalizing fashion, and elicited a few barely audible groans from the male portion of the audience. When the dressing room was in position she sauntered confidently over to it and disappeared inside.

Amber stared hard at the dressing room and tried not to let annoyance show in her expression. Her producer told her to keep the audience entertained and Amber said, “Alright ladies and gentlemen, while Ms. Mayberry is getting changed why don’t we look at a few of the most liked photos from her Instagrand page.” Her producer indicated the first one was ready and the screen behind Amber filled with larger-than-life photo of Elizabeth. The Instagrand model was bent over with her prominent backside facing the camera. Her shoulders were twisted so that her upper body was visible in profile, leaning over a counter with steaming pie on it. 

A small gouge marred the surface of the pie, leaving a red gash. Elizabeth’s fingertip rested between her plush lips which were smeared with a tiny amount of red syrup, some of which oozed down the length of her finger. That photo caption read: ‘Mmm, cherry pie!’ Amber cleared her throat and gave a polite chuckle, “Not very subtle,” she quipped and earned a solid laugh from the audience. “Elizabeth,” she called. “Are you ready or should I show them another photo?”

In answer Elizabeth swept the curtain aside and took a dramatic step back into the spotlight. Her  black top revealed an entire shoulder and the upper slope of one of her large breasts. From the mid point of her breasts up the garment was loose and floaty, revealing variable amounts of cleavage depending on Elizabeth’s posture. The bottom half of the top hugged her body like a second skin, outlining the rounded underside of her breasts and conforming tightly to her trim waist. This form-fitting style was maintained in the blue leggings that were all but painted onto her wide hips and ample thighs. 

The crowd applauded and Elizabeth turned around. 

Polite applause from the women continued, while the men went absolutely wild. Elizabeth’s trademark “Berries” look was a classic for a reason. The shiny blue pants were so tight around the thick circumference of her ass that the material was nearly transparent. For a white girl, Berries had an extreme case of ‘ghetto’ booty. Like twin basketballs the flawless protrusions thrust out from the top of her thighs in total defiance of gravity and only the relative thickness of her thighs made her gargantuan glutes appear natural.

Elizabeth soaked in the applause and the howls of approval from the men and could not help but give a couple twerks to set her goodies to jiggling and bouncing all over again. The women’s applause faltered while the men’s howls doubled in intensity. Satisfied that her outfit had received enough attention Elizabeth waved, blew the men a kiss, then sauntered back into the dressing room. 

“That was certainly something,” Amber said, at a loss for words and seething with jealousy. She had worked her ass off to get where she was. This trust fund baby could shake her fat ass and get the attention and accolades Amber had fought tooth and nail for? It was bullshit. She flipped over the next cue card and saw something that made her grin savagely. “It says here Ms. Mayberry is available for parties. Does that mean someone has to hire you to attend their party?” Amber asked.

“Yeah,” Elizabeth’s muffled voice replied from the dressing you. “You know if I’m there the scene is gonna be turnt.”

“You heard it here first bachelors, book Ms. Mayberry today,” Amanda said, sliding in a jab. The men cheered raucously and the women chuckled nervously. “Now let’s take another look at another photo.”

The second photo was in black and white was once again pointed at Elizabeth’s bulbous backside. A thong covered a meager portion of her expansive rear, which also overflowed the sides of a chair. Elizabeth’s upper body was leaned against the back of the chair and her head was turned so that half of a smile was visible. In spite of the obvious sexual overtones even Amber had to admit that the lighting was incredible- casting parts of Elizabeth in varying levels of shadow and lending her a mysterious air. Again the men cheered and the women clapped politely, making the source of Elizabeth’s popularity painfully clear. “This one has kind of a noir feel,” Amber said after failing to come up with a joke.

She went to the next photo which was more of the same.  

“Ready!” Elizabeth finally called out. She stepped into the spotlight wearing the most scandalous outfit Amber had ever seen on her stage. A miniscule pink halter top barely covered the bobbling orbs of Amanda’s tits while lime green shorts struggled in vain to contain Elizabeth’s rear. A large portion of the thin material was wedged into the cavernous canyon between her protruding cheeks and the bottom third of her cheeks were completely exposed. The shape of Elizabeth’s booty was so defined that even without any fabric to mold it her ass maintained its spherical splendor.

Amber was stunned into silence, and so was the audience. A man whistled exuberantly and like a spell broke the silence. A murmur rippled through the women while the men hooted and hollered in approval. “Wow,” Amber managed. “Isn’t that a bit too revealing?” 

“Too revealing?” Elizabeth scoffed and turned to address the audience. “Women should not be ashamed of their bodies. If you got it, ladies- flaunt it.” Her words won some of the female audience back and a few feminine whoops of approval drowned out the smaller voices of the men. “There was a time when women had to dress a certain way to get anywhere in this world,” Elizabeth soap-boxed. “I say we dress how we want, when we want, and fuck the haters.”

“We had the bleep that,” Amber’s producer warned.

“Language,” Amber cautioned.

“Sorry,” Elizabeth said and made a show of appearing contrite. “I get fired up when I see or hear women afraid to love their bodies.”

“Not everyone has a body like yours,” Amber deadpanned.

“Everyone should love their own body!” Elizabeth countered, “We’re all beautiful in our own way!” To emphasize her point she twisted to the side gave her ass a healthy slap. The overdeveloped rear was still wobbling when Amber’s producer tossed them to commercial.   

***

Back in Elizabeth’s hotel room the excitement from the interview had not yet worn off. Josh ogled her, eyes roaming over every curve revealed by the skimpy outfit she had changed into on the Extra Late Show. “That was amazing,” he gushed.

“I know,” Elizabeth smirked and pulled out her phone. “I can’t wait to see how many followers I get when the show airs tonight.”

“Tons!” Josh exclaimed then remembered that made his deadline even tighter. He was not eager to find out what would happen if Elizabeth crossed the million extra follower threshold and did not advance in the vortex.

“Mm hmm,” Elizabeth hummed through pursed lips. Her eyes flicked to where Josh stood on her nightstand and she levered her legs off the bed and onto the floor. “Now, you and I have some time to kill.”

“R-right,” Josh said. “There are some Vortex Vacation protocols-”

“Booooriiing,” Elizabeth sang. Her head dipped closer as she leaned towards him, casting his body into shadow. In this posture her cleavage hung massively, each tit looming as large as his whole body. “Why don’t we pick up where we left off before?” the throaty purr of her voice was equal to the rumble of a dozen subwoofers. 

“Wh-Where was that?” Josh stammered, intimidated by the proximity of so much bare female flesh and the sudden change of mood. 

“Oh, I dunno,” Elizabeth casually ran a hand over the exposed surface of her breasts, drawing his eyes ot them. Her plump titflesh rose like bread overflowing a pan, barely restrained by the inadequate halter top. Josh had a vivid vision of Elizabeth pulling up her top and unleashing that avalanche of tit upon him. The impact would probably flatten him, but at least he would die happy. “Somewhere fun,” she said teasingly, and tugged at her top to reveal deep depths of dark cleavage.

Josh stood in rapt silence, overwhelmed by Elizabeth’s raw confidence and sexuality. Without her enormous size she would have been intimidating- with it she was a sexual force of nature. His dick leapt to attention, taking control of the situation. Attempts at rational thought were directed to his groin and promptly dismissed. Like a teenage boy alone with a girl for the first time he blurted out, “Can I touch your breasts?” 

Elizabeth smiled and leaned closer. Her breasts pushed forward- exactly like the avalanche Josh had imagined. The soft, heavy mass of breast ploughed into him, knocking him to his ass before the massive mounds settled on top of his lap. As big as beanbag chairs their spongy weight pinned his legs painfully and one of Elizabeth’s pert nipples poked his chest. Josh’s right arm was swallowed into the hot cave her cleavage while his left cradled the massive mammary resting in his lap. The thin pink material made her breasts slippery, like gelatin tucked tightly into pillow cases and his fingers squished into their pliant surface. The strain on his fingers just to indent the supple flesh was far more than he expected- Elizabeth’s tits were incredibly firm but obviously real. If not for her legendary ass her big, gravity defying bust would have been her trademark feature. The degree to which Elizabeth had won the genetic lottery was so extreme it felt unfair. 

Ignoring the pain in his legs Josh gasped, “Oh my goddess.”

The warm flesh inundating him rumbled reply in a sing-song tone, “That’s me.”