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Bad Influence(r): Chapter One

My sincere and heartfelt thanks to everyone who continues to visit the site and enjoy my work. It's a privilege and an honor to have you all onboard this crazy train! What follows is the preview chapters for the first of a new series called The iFem Chronicles. I'll be posting the first five chapters as a preview of the book over the coming weeks.

These stories exist outside of the DomCo world and follow the misfortunes of rising influencers and minor celebrities, chasing the heights of stardom. Internet Famous Entertainment Management (iFem) is a corporate giant, operating at the forefront of advertising and marketing. They represent sponsor companies from around the world, pairing them with influencers to sell and promote their products.

This book follows the story of Vivianne, a gorgeous, but mean-spirited, rising star in the social media world. Vivianne's online identity, VixyViv, is something of a sham. Her mockery and rudeness has also put her on the radar of a prominent campaign manager with iFem, who is about to give Vivianne everything she dreams of, just not quite in the way she imagined. Enjoy this first foray into the dark and degrading business of iFem.

Bad Influencer Cover Art

Chapter One: Bad Influence(r)

Vivianne only cared about her follower count. Inwardly, she was deprived of any real feelings of self-worth, and a large social media following gave her the mistaken impression that her thoughts and opinions mattered to others. This, in turn, inflated her ego, filling the empty hole of self-doubt that lived inside of her. Her follower count was all that really mattered. She watched her follower count several times each day, as well as the counts of others that she admired, certain that one day she would be like them. She wanted that lifestyle.

Vivianne dreamed of sponsors that gave her free clothes, jewelry, make-up and other products that she could push on her followers to earn commissions. She daydreamed of a life of ease, spent hopping from beach to beach, where interesting and wealthy people lead lives of excess, unconcerned about things like bills or how much their handbags cost.

Vivianne went by the handle VixyViv, thinking that it was very cute, naughty without being trashy, and just a touch sexy. VixyViv, though, had a sham of a life. Her sexy dresses and swimwear were frequently purchased only for a day, in which she’d carefully hide the tags and take several selfies.

Usually, she would find secluded parts of local beachfront, carefully cropping out any landmarks or other visual cues that might reveal that they were all taken in the same town. Other times, she might sneak into art galleries or people’s gatherings and parties, quickly snapping some shots that showed her in crowded rooms, filled with well-dressed men and women.

Once she’d finished her selfie excursions, she would return the clothes to get her money back. VixyViv kept a revolving list of dozens of local and online stores, so that she might go for months before purchasing from the same one again. She did the same for her jewelry. Makeup was a different story. That couldn’t be returned easily.

This, she used to create looks and make videos about the makeup, reviewing it, or doing how-to videos, teaching other people how to apply the latest celebrity looks. The videos earned her a modest income that just paid her bills. She supplemented the videos with a free OnlyFans account, where she’d offer dick rates for a small fee, but only to, “beta gooner losers,” who she would insult for having an average penis. Even though it was a hard life, VixyViv could never take a part-time job, for fear that she’d be recognized.

Vivianne, unfortunately, built her following more by the fact that she was a callous and mean bitch, who constantly put down others she saw as less attractive than her, rather than people actually caring about her thoughts and opinions. Most of her followers merely enjoyed a good dumpster fire and just wanted to see what outlandish and hurtful thing she’d say next, in order to validate their own feelings of negativity toward people that they considered lesser than themselves. VixyViv’s followers were not nice people.

When someone posted a photo of their weight loss journey to Twitter, VixyViv would butt in with a hurtful comment, such as, “Ew! No one wants to see your nasty belly roll. Get lipo or GTFO!”

Vivianne did not care that this person had been dieting and exercising religiously for months in order to become healthier, and had shed ninety pounds through hard work and determination. VixyViv only saw someone who did not have a sexy, flat tummy like hers and that was gross. Gross people didn’t deserve kindness.

If a man posted a photo of the diamond ring he’d just purchased on Instagram, to propose to his girlfriend, VixyViv might drop in with an unwelcome comment, such as, “Nice one, cheap ass. Is that cubic zirconia? Looks like something I saw on the $2.99 Walmart fashion jewelry carousel.”

Vivianne would then go on with her day, seeking her next victim, unconcerned by the fact that this man had carefully saved and scraped, even selling a few precious, family heirlooms, in order to procure a beautiful symbol of his love for the woman he cherished.

Whenever she saw a girl on Facebook flaunt her sexy cleavage, VixyViv would one-up her with a hotter selfie that displayed her perfect, round tits, often with a string of drooling emojis, which would steal the girl’s limelight and land Vivianne even more followers who only cared about using her photos as masturbation material.

On TikTok, Vixy Viv would drop a sexy video of herself in a bikini, or follow whatever the latest trend was, constantly chasing the numbers as she lip synced to trashy hip hop songs that objectified women. This only increased her following among horny, lonely men or misogynistic pigs, who had become so inundated with easy access to hardcore porn that they rarely saw a woman with big tits as anything more than just another slut, who secretly wanted to be used by uncaring chronic masturbators.

Twice a month, she accepted dates with desperate, lonely men from various dating apps, who she would go on expensive dinner dates with, only to ghost them afterwards, often posting stories to her social media channels, decrying them as creeps. Most nights, though, she would go to bed alone, after a meager meal consisting of ramen noodles or other dollar store fare, and then quietly masturbate herself to attain some degree of pleasure, or simply sob into her pillow until she fell asleep, dreaming of the day that her life would not be a work of fiction.


Enjoying this story so far? You can own the entire book, available in the shop.

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