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I was all the time captivated by her unique allure. As I stumbled upon her interviews, I felt compelled to write about her, while wanting to maintain a certain level of respect. Naturally, I hesitated in penning a piece about a real person, unsure if it would be appropriate enough for publication. Regardless, this piece of fiction takes place in 2004 when she, Anne, is 60 years old.

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“So, what possessed you to appear on television?” Herbert grinned mischievously. “I decided that it was unfair to keep this level of beauty hidden from the world.” He waved a hand towards the audience, with a twinkle in his eye.

“But did you really need to brush up on your notes, the ones you had memorized at home, before going live?” The crowd was merciless; they relished the spectacle, eagerly awaiting someone to be taken down.

“Oh, come now. Tomato, tomahto. Deprive of, if that suits you better.”

“You lack the ability to affect me, positively or negatively.”

“I…”

That remark sparked a suppressed memory. “By the way, you didn’t require a mirror when making this decision, did you?”

“I…”

Normally, Anne abided by a rule of avoiding rudeness, but her definition of “rudeness” was subjective.

“And, I suppose if you had proofread your notes or had a mirror at home, we would have heard you say ‘gruesomeness,’ right?”

The audience erupted with joy. Amidst the laughter, a witty voice piped up, “He’s already dead! Stop kicking the corpse!”

Herbert smiled, acknowledged the voice, and turned his gaze back to Anne, his smile unwavering.

“Anne, we both know you’d devour me in an instant,” he teased, raising an eyebrow, “if given the chance, of course.”

She remained silent. She disliked the audacious individuals who attended her show solely to engage in backtalk, those who rehearsed their lines before coming. However, the spontaneous and slick ones somehow managed to ignite a spark within her. These rare few engaged in lengthy, intriguing exchanges with her and had the power to provoke her wrath.

“Eat, you say.”

Furthermore, she found herself disinterested in dwelling on such topics.

“Oh, you misinterpret what I meant. No worries, I understand it’s been a while since…” He paused briefly, letting the audience revel in this moment. “…It’s perfectly normal for you to forget such a concept,” he concluded, grinning mischievously as the crowd erupted in laughter.

These attempts were futile.

Ever since she began hosting the ‘Weakest Link’ series, she had become the centerpiece of countless fantasies. Some found her irresistibly alluring, their minds conjuring images of punishing her snobbish demeanor. They recognized, deep down, that even in their fantasies, she possessed the power to make them feel as if their own bottoms were being chastised, should she wish. Reality mattered little in this regard.

Others found themselves inexplicably drawn to her intellect, dreaming of romantic moments together.

Yet, the majority of her mesmerized fans found themselves in touch with their truest desires. It was as if her unyielding, dominating nature had taken hold of their very souls. Many of them experienced these feelings for the first time — the desire to be at the mercy of another person, to be firmly held in their palm.

During numerous interviews, she faced questions about these desires, and her expression all the time hinted at a lack of surprise. Whether she indulged in such experiences in real life and the extent of her encounters remained a mystery.

As a woman constantly confronted with inquiries such as, “We know there are a considerable number of people who dream of being your slave, being humiliated by you, being tortured by you,” it was impossible to undermine her self-confidence.

“Oh, I know precisely what ‘eat’ means.” She was about to move on to the next contestant.

But he wasn’t finished.

“Alright, alright. I’ll give you my number. It’s our duty, after all, to cater to the needs of our elderly.” Herbert attempted to match the shallowness of the audience, still basking in laughter.

Anne harbored no anger, but this Herbert character was asking for it.

“Thank you. Don’t go anywhere once you’re eliminated,” she replied, her expression subtly puckered. Her glance possessed a cat-like indifference before she shifted her attention to the next contender. It appeared genuine, as though she genuinely pondered the proposition.

That was enough to silence him. He still wore the smirk on his face, gazing at the audience, but the joy had vanished. Was she serious? He knew this was her game, making the smart ones nervous, yet the way she stared at him made him question everything.

“So, Nina. When is your due date?”

Nina blushed. Did she truly appear pregnant?

Herbert had spoiled the game for himself. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Anne, contemplating the passionate encounter that might await him. He struggled to concentrate, ultimately getting eliminated as the weakest link after the first round.

Normally, Anne relished in dishing out humiliation to the eliminated contenders, driving home why they failed and deserved to be ousted. However, this time, she simply stated, “Wait for me outside my room.”

He gestured toward the audience, pretending to revel in the opportunity to score.

The crowd adored this. Discussions centered around how he must be confused and how he may wait in the corridors, questioning whether it was all a joke.

As someone led him to her room, it became apparent that this was more than a jest or part of the show. Doubts crept into his mind. Could this really be happening?

And so he waited. Time seemed to stretch on indefinitely. Just as he contemplated leaving, he caught a glimpse of her walking toward him at the end of the corridor.

“Open the door,” she commanded, waiting for him to oblige.

He felt as though his heart might give out. He had long surpassed the point of wondering if the encounter would be scintillating. At that moment, he yearned for nothing more than the ability to dream about what might unfold.

The nerves had fully taken hold. Alone in that room with her, it was nothing like engaging in a conversation amidst a crowd. It felt as if he had left his bravado somewhere along the journey to her room.

Her stern expression, the audacious words expressed. He was almost certain that he would soon regret this in some way.

“So, Herbie. I’m all ears.”

“W-what?”

“What’s on your mind? How do you plan to ‘attend to my needs’?”

“I was j-joking. I mean…”

“Oh, so you’re not interested?”

“Anne, I…”

“Did you just call me, ‘Ma’am’?”

“I-I mean, yes.” His confusion was palpable.

“Listen…”

“Are you serious? I mean, about…”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You offered that on live television, in front of millions, didn’t you? And I accepted. I always keep my word.”

“So, oh my. Are we going to…”

“Not ‘we.’ You. You will attend to my needs. I don’t have much time. Hurry.”

He felt an immediate surge of arousal. Still somewhat uncertain, he observed her unbuttoning her trousers—a tantalizing striptease. It dawned on him that she must have an active sex life, judging by her impeccably groomed lady parts.

His gaze remained transfixed, waiting for some kind of signal or permission. Suddenly, Anne thrust her hips forward, guiding her exposed core towards him while clutching his head.

This time, he wasted no time. He kissed, licked, and caressed her most intimate areas while lavishing her with compliments and gratitude at every opportunity.

“Ma’am, thank you for this extraordinary moment. I will never—”

“Stop wasting my time. Open your mouth, cover it, and please me…”

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