I had the wrong idea about idols. I only knew them from anime, where everything was fun and lighthearted and things always turned out good in the end. I fell into idol hell, wasting away all of my life and money on my obsession with cute 2D girls that weren’t even real. But, even more than I loved the idols themselves, I wanted to be one. Sure, it would be hard work – but I thought that, if only I had talent, a cute face, and the right gender, that I could power through anything, just like they did.
I was never the kind of person who cared about showing off. The only thing I had ever done was play piano, but I had never even thought about putting on a performance by myself. But that was before I discovered them. Everything that they had, I needed to have it. I wanted to be loved and admired, I wanted to be seen as cute and innocent, and I wanted everything about myself to be pure and precious and desired. I wanted to hang out and have fun together with the other girls, not as an admirer but as one of them. And I wanted to be envied and obsessed over by all the guys who couldn’t be any of those things, who couldn’t even touch them – I wanted to be above them, to be hopelessly out of their reach.
It was a greedy, stupid dream. One night a demon came and offered me a contract, and I completely fell for the trap. I would be given a new life as a female idol, with a body that was exactly like I’d dreamed of. I would get the talent, the skills, the looks, everything that an idol needed, everything that I’d wanted to have. The only catch would be that it would be the only thing I could ever be good at, the only place where my body would feel at home, the only life I could live. I didn’t hesitate, and as the contract burst into flames, my soul left this world, and after what felt like a long nap, I woke up again in my new body.
***
I sat down on my new bed, exhausted and tired. It had only been one day. A complete sense of hopelessness and fatigue took over. I slowly lowered myself down, laying on the sheets. I could feel my soft, feminine features all over my body, now permanently a part of myself. My body was small and adorable and perfect, and I hated it.
I could remember every detail of that first day. An alarm woke me up at five in the morning, and I answered a call where they told me to do my homework before class started. It was the agency, who from then on would be making all of my decisions and micromanaging every single aspect of my life. With no family, I was living in a single dorm in a specialized girls’ school, where everyone was shallow and self-obsessed and I felt more isolated than ever before. They were so unfriendly and dishonest that I lashed out and acted like a bitch to them. That made them leave me alone. I already saw myself becoming like the rest of them.
There was a practice that day, and there would be something like that pretty much every day since. When I saw the rest of the group, I hated them at first sight. My body knew what to do, how to talk to them, how to act the right way, so I tried to let that part take over, but it was still exhausting. I tried to go along with it, not wanting to make anything harder, but – even with my body instinctually trying to make me as cute and perfect as possible – I was still acting like a huge bitch. When I could finally leave, any doubts about my true personality were gone.
I went through it all in my head as I lay there on the bed, staring at the empty wall on the opposite side, my cute light brown bangs drooping down in front of my face. Finally the sobs came, and the first tears formed in the corners of my eyes. I didn’t want to think about it anymore.
I lifted up my loose shirt, looking down at a view that I’d been avoiding peeking at all day. My chest looked mostly flat from the outside, but inside were two subtle mounds, and two cute small nipples on top of them. I cupped my hand on one, and a huge rush came through my body. I quickly brought my other hand in and teased my nipples with my fingernails, and I was immediately overcome with an incredible sensation, far more intense than anything I’d experienced as a guy. Soon I tore one of my hands away and put it under my panties, putting my fingers inside my hole and discovering another set of new, completely indescribable feelings.
As I moved my fingers over each place, including rubbing them over my super-smooth thighs and torso, the image of my new form filled my head. I tried to think of anything else, but with every sensitive wave of pleasure, it was like my mind only wanted to think about my own body and what it was meant for. I halfheartedly tried to stop myself, but it was futile, as my muscles continued to tense up, my own body begging for more of its own sexual touch. It went on like that, shamefully, for a while, but eventually, my tiredness took over, and I fell asleep.
***
That lust never fully went away. Idols were supposed to be pure, their sexual innocence preserved for the fans – and they were never supposed to fantazise over sex like whores, much less act on it. But on top of all the lies my life was made of, I couldn’t even do that. Throughout the day, I would look for any opportunity to have a few minutes or seconds to myself, just so I could have a small taste of that sensation. My favorite place became the changing rooms, where before each show, the shame, nervousness, and fear of getting caught made it even hotter and more irresistable. Soon I was able to come up with fantasies about things besides just my own body, but they always involved me in some way, usually about me getting fucked by the staff or even the other idols. When I would see myself in front of the mirror, all dressed up, I would think of how I was betraying the fans, how much I hated them, the agency, myself, how much I hated everything. But those thoughts turned me on more than anything else, and that’s why, every time, I would think about it again and do it again.
If anything came out, even a false rumor, that I was impure – I didn’t even know what would happen. It was supposed to be just a fantasy, just something that I begrudgingly came up with to satisfy myself and allow myself to feel good. It was just before another performance – I thought I was in the clear, rubbing one out in front of the mirror, my skirt taken off to keep it clean of the juices. And he just walked in, and I was caught, as red-handed as I could be – alone in front of the manager that I was intimidated by so much.
But I had been thinking. Maybe it was just my fantasies, or maybe part of was a curiosity about whether those hentai and stories about the idol world really were based on reality. I wasn’t going to have any trouble surviving in this industry, I wasn’t trying to get ahead... so why did I feel like I needed it so bad? Was it really an idol’s place to be the plaything of the staff, or was it just my own sick desire? Did I even want it, or was it my own cruel self-punishment for trying to take what I didn’t deserve?
I brought one of my hands up to my mouth, tasting a little bit of myself, as I gave him an innocent, pleading look. My own soft breaths were the only thing that I could hear. I could see him considering, digesting the reality of what I was doing, but I already know that I could do whatever I wanted. It was almost a shock to see the fast-paced, too-good-for-anyone manager – who would usually be giving me orders or calling for me at his convenience – now totally at my fingertips. But honestly, the possibility that I could gain anything from this was not even on my mind.
For a brief second, I wondered if he hated me.
I couldn’t ruin the carefully done makeup on my face, nor could I waste any time taking off my dress. I realized that, with the height difference, there was nothing I could do but literally bend over. My face turned red hot, but I couldn’t ruin the moment by hesitating there. I grabbed his hands with my own small fingers, guiding them to my sides, pulling him behind me to let him know that this was what I wanted.
His cock was already rock-hard as I pushed its entire length into me, it stretching and nearly ripping my insides in ways that I never even thought possible. I pushed through the pain, letting it be overtaken by the lust and the pleasure. I noticed the noise I was making – my cute, refined, trained singing voice, now reduced to instinctual gasps and moans – and as much as I tried to suppress them for fear of being discovered, they still came out, the high-pitched gasps contrasting with the masculine grunts of the man behind me and making me feel like a weak, submissive little girl. The thought of it sent me shaking.
As much as my body craved the bliss, happy from finally being put in its place, the sense of shame and inherent, subtle vulnerability could never be overshadowed. I still had a show to put on. I pushed my slim thighs back and squeezed forcefully, grinding my hips in any way that might make it come out faster. Half a minute later, my virginity was officially taken. I didn’t have any time to think about it, but I didn’t need to – it felt like I had already decided I would be like this long ago. I only wiped once before putting my panties back on.
***
It went on for a long time like that. I had sex with many other people, male and female, but my secret was never spilled. People didn’t pry into my business, at least not the real stuff below the surface. And I technically never betrayed anyone or did them dirty, except maybe when I took advantage of their innocence to fulfill my own desires. Eventually the girls that I knew fell off, or I would see them less and less, and new, younger ones would join, and I became more popular as a solo idol, a favorite of the company.
At the greets, I get to touch the hands of my fans. They think it’s a privilege, paying and entering lotteries just for five seconds of my human touch. But for me, it’s the only genuine love that I have – though it’s only in this cynical, manufactured form. It was so boring at first, but now, when I think about how I get to keep this fantasy alive for everyone else, I look forward to it, and it almost makes me happy.
***
***
With Oshi no Ko making the “entertainment industry is lies” thing popular again, I thought I would get around to this rewrite of one of my old captions – now 100% more lewd.
A music video for this story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUv2QSYEdhk
No hate of course towards real idols, this is just this person’s unfortunate experience.
Image sources:
#1: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/4544816
#2: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/4456486
#3: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/3864486
#4: Sauce for third and fourth pics is
a doujin, 312159. The site that starts with n and ends with hentai.
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