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 ï>¿Claire's Career byCalandriaÂ(C)

   I always knew I was an exhibitionist  -" in a mild sort of a way, and
wanted to be a fashion model.  I just loved the idea off walking down the
catwalk in those impossibly high heels, wearing all those lovely clothes,
the silks, the satins, the transparent tops..........

   So I was shattered when, after a visit to one modelling agency after
another, it was clear I wasn't going to make it.  It wasn't that I didn't
have good body.  I did, I knew I did.  But they all wanted me to pay a sum
of money up front for 'tuition fees'  -" a sum of money I didn't have  -"
and they wanted portfolios of photos, and, what's more, I got the distinct
impression it was a question of who you knew.

   So I thought I'd try elsewhere, and Paris seemed like a good idea.  I
simply caught the Eurostar, and sallied forth, armed with the address of an
old boyfriend and his new girlfriend, who were living in the posh 16th
arrondissement, and who I understood were connected to the fashion
business.

   When I got there, I discovered that not all addresses were necessarily
up-market, even in well-heeled districts, and they lived in a tiny attic,
up a beetling staircase.  Emma and Mark made me welcome enough, in a 'hope
you're not staying too long' kind of way, and Emma, made me up a bed on the
sofa for the night, then promised to take me and introduce me to someone
she knew next morning.

   Stiff as a board from the sofa, I stretched and had a coffee with Emma,
Mark having gone off to work in a nearby studio where he was engaged in
some kind off project.

   We went by Metro to Montmartre, and she led me into some seedy
back-streets, where lots of dark faces seemed to be leering at us from the
shadows, even at ten o'clock in the morning.  Emma stopped at a chipped red
door.

   'You know this isn't Yves Saint Laurent, don't you, darling?' she said.

   Before I had chance to reply, the door opened, and a bald,
coffee-coloured man held it open for us to go in, then shut and locked it
behind us.  We went up a dimly-lit staircase to a carpeted landing, then
waited until the man squeezed past us, turned around and showed us a grin
which contained several gold teeth, then opened a door, to usher us into a
huge office.

   In complete contrast to what we had seen, it was palatial, and a
sophisticated-looking man in his late forties sat behind a large mahogany
desk, formally dressed, but with his jacket draped over his shoulders, his
arms free of it, and displaying expensive-looking gold cuff-links.  His
black hair had hints of grey at the temples.

   'Ah, Emma,' he said, in accented but correct English, 'so this is the
friend about whom you spoke to me.  You may leave us alone now.  I will see
that your friend is returned to your home.'

   I was about to protest, but there was something in the man's manner
which precluded such a strategy, and Emma simply touched my elbow, and
meekly left.'

   I turned to face him, and he smiled slightly, 'I am Roger.  You need
know no more,' he said, 'and I understand you have been unable to find work
in England.  Is that not so?'

   'I couldn't find modelling work.'

   'Just so, just so.' He regarded me in a way I found very unnerving for
what must have been more than a minute, in total silence, and then pressed
a buzzer on his desk.  A door I hadn't seen, because it was covered in
wallpaper, like the rest of the wall, opened, and a slim young Asian girl
came into the office, dressed in a black minidress and high-heeled mules.

   'Take this young lady.....' Then he interrupted himself, turning to me,
'What is your name, dear?'

   'Claire,' I said.

   He turned back to the Asian girl, 'Take Claire, and dress her for me.  I
want to see how she would look in four or five outfits for one of our
shows. Think in terms of the Club Grand Duc.'

   The girl nodded and extending a hand to me, led me from the room.

   'I am Ti-Liu,' she told me, as we entered a carpeted room, surrounded by
mirrors, with row after row of racks, and banks of shelves and cupboards.
It was a large, well-equipped dressing-room.

   Ti-Liu bade me undress, and I took off my jacket, jeans, and tee-shirt,
then kicked off my shoes, so that I stood in bra and panties.

   'Everything,' she said.

   'Everything?' I repeated.

   'Oh yes,' she confirmed, and I unhooked the bra, then wriggled out of my
panties, feeling very self-conscious as I stood in front of the Chinese
girl completely naked, aa hand over my pubes.

   'Don't be shy,' she giggled, ' you're going to have to get used to being
seen.'

   I didn't know what to make of this last remark, but Ti-Liu wanted to
look me over, and seemed more than a little interested in my pubic hair.  I
shaved enough so that it didn't show around my skimpy bikinis, but left a
little triangle.

   'Hmmm,' she said, 'I think that will have to go, but not just now. 
We'll see what the boss says, shall we?'

   Panic again started to set in, as it had when Emma had left me.  The
boss was going to look at my pubic hair?  What was I letting myself in for?

   But Ti-Liu was busy selecting things from the racks.  Satisfied, she
came back to where I stood, a garment draped over her arm.  When she
slipped it over my head, I gasped.  It was a halter-necked gown, ivory in
colour, of a shiny translucent material, the skirt only slightly more
opaque than the top, by virtue of the fact that it was pleated.  My breasts
could be seen quite clearly, nipples jutting through the fine material, and
my black pubic hair formed a distinct shadow through the skirt.  She
clipped a big silver belt around my slim waist, and had me step into
needle-heeled stilettos.  Giving my long black hair a deft brush, Ti-Liu
pronounced me ready, and led me back into the office.

   Roger hadn't moved, and sat, steepling his fingers as I tottered in on
my heels.

   'Can't you walk better than that?' he demanded, and I took up the
challenge, doing a proud twirl in front of him.

   He said something in French to Ti-Liu, then she ushered me out.

   As soon as we were in the dressing room again, she said, 'He wants to
see you in something more revealing.'

   'More revealing?  Christ, what could be more revealing than that?' I
looked at her in disbelief, as I slipped out of the flimsy gown.

   She rummaged around along the racks, and soon returned to me with
another garment.

   'Here, put this on,' she said, handing me a black nylon creation.  I
dropped it over my head, and found that it was a very tight fit, even
before I had had the long zippers done up.  It covered me from the high
neck to the floor, and had long sleeves, which I had to wriggle my arms
into.  The skirt was so tight around my legs that I could only take short
mincing steps, but the gown was completely sheer, and every detail of my
body could be seen through it.

   'I can't wear this,' I declared, 'I'm naked.'

   'Come on,' urged Ti-Liu, 'put some shoes on, and we'll see what the boss
says.'

   She propelled me through into the office, where I stood, blushing, in
front of the massive desk.

   'Take your hands away from your pussy,' said Roger, 'think I don't know
what you've got there?'

   Sheepishly, I did as he told me.

   'That hair's got to go if you're going to work for me,' he said.

   'But.....but,' I started.

   'But you want to know what it's all about,' he smiled momentarily, and
then told me to sit down in a leather chair.  I did so, with difficulty,
due to the tightness of the skirt.

   He waved Ti-Liu away, then started to tell me: 'I do fashion shows with
a difference.  I cater for fetish fashion, and for people who appreciate
that kind of thing.  I cater for many different tastes, and I am very
flexible, so that my models have to be flexible too.  They also need to be
very broad-minded.  For this, and their loyalty and discretion, I reward
them extremely well.  I have seven models currently working for me.  I need
one more.  You could be she.  Are you interested?  I will have your answer
tomorrow at this time.  Now I will call a taxi to take you back to Emma's
apartment.'

   Half an hour later I was sat on Emma's sofa, telling her all about it,
though I suspected she already knew more than half of the story, as it was
Emma who had introduced me to Roger, after all.  But when I asked her how
she knew him, she said she did a bit of part-time work for him, and
wouldn't elaborate.

   When I asked her what she thought, she said, 'What have you got to lose,
you're no virgin after all?'

   'So you think it'll go beyond just modelling, then?'

   'Get real, girl,' she said, 'he's got some well-heeled clients to look
after.  He doesn't pay good money for just walking up and down.'

   Next morning, my mind was made up.  I would tell him to stuff his job,
but Emma thought I ought to go and see him, in any case.  I took the Metro,
and walked through the grotty streets, rang the bell, and Gold-teeth again
let me in, and led me upstairs.  When I entered the office, I got a
surprise.  Sat on the corner of the desk was a guy in his early twenties
who was quite simply the most drop-dead gorgeous man I had ever seen. 
Black hair curled down to the collar of his open-necked shirt, liquid dark
eyes shone from an open face with a strong, square chin.

   'My father asked me to meet you,' he said, in faultless English, 'and
apologised for not being here.'

   He embraced me in the French fashion, and went on, 'I understand you
would like to work for us.  That means we shall be seeing a lot of each
other, as my father lets me organise the shows.  I think we shall get along
very well.'

   Whether it was his Monsieur Rochas cologne, or the extended embrace, or
simply his presence, whatever  -" my resolve melted, there and then.

   'Er....yes, I think so,' I heard myself saying.

   'Good,' he said, 'I am Robert, and I think you are Claire, right?'

   I nodded, and he took my hand, and led me out to the familiar dressing
room, talking all the time.  It seemed that there was to be a show that
afternoon, and they wanted me to take part.  It was to be at the Club Grand
Duc, which meant nothing to me.

   Robert called Ti-Liu, who appeared as if from nowhere, and spoke to her
in rapid French, then left me with her, and went off back into the office,
saying he would see me later with papers for me to sign.

   'Come,' said Ti-Liu, and led me into a curtained alcove, where there was
a large, triangular bath.  She told me to undress, and I quickly did so,
still in a bit of a daze, and wondering why I had agreed to all this.

   As I stripped, she was running the bath, and I lowered myself into the
warm water, although I had recently showered at Emma's flat.  Ti-Liu went
out, and returned almost immediately with a plastic razor and a canister of
foam.  She bade me sit up on the edge of the bath, then kicked off her
shoes, and, giggling, came and sat beside me.

   'Open your legs wide,' she said, and spread foam all around my pussy,
smoothing it right into the crack of my arse.  I was starting to get
excited, in spite of myself, at her touch, and trembled a little, as she
took the first strokes with the razor.  She took infinite care to remove
every vestige of hair from my cunt-lips, and from around the tiny puckered
hole of my anus, and when she hosed my pussy down with the shower-head, I
saw that I was as clean-shaven as a ten-year-old girl.  I thought it looked
quite charming, admiring myself in the mirror as I dried myself off. 
Ti-Liu then had me sit in a hairdresser's chair, and carefully painted my
finger- and toe-nails, applied a little rouge to my nipples, and, to my
alarm, to my labia.

   When I asked her what that was for she said, 'just in case.'

   'In case of what?' I asked, but she merely smiled.

   Next she brushed my long black hair to a silken sheen, and pronounced me
ready.  I had heard sounds issuing from the dressing room whilst she was
working, and when I slipped on a robe she passed me, and went out amongst
the racks, three more girls were sat around awaiting Ti-Liu's attention. 
One walked straight in, a tall black girl with very long legs, wearing a
tiny miniskirt, leaving the other two, who greeted me in French, and
introduced themselves as Cecile and Anne.  Both were blondes with long
hair, and wore short skirts.  I made conversation as best I could, but
Robert came to my rescue, and, so far as I could understand, told the other
two that I was a new recruit.  They laughed as if sharing some joke, and
Robert led me off to the far end of the racks, where hung rows of corsets.
He slipped the robe from my shoulders before I could protest, and I stood
completely naked before him.

   'Mmm,' he said, 'you have a nice body, Claire.'

   I had a tingling sensation as he ran a warm hand over my breasts,
resting a forefinger for just a moment on a sensitive nipple, then he
turned to the rack, seeming to know exactly what was my size, and offered a
white satin corset up to my body, inviting me to slip my arms through the
straps.  It was a perfect fit, moulding my narrow waist exactly, the bra
just forming no more than a platform for my breasts, which were completely
exposed.  At the hem it finished just above my shaven pussy, and was cut
high at the back, so that my buttocks were entirely bare.  It had long
garter straps.  When I had fastened all the hooks and eyes at the front, I
thought it was a snug fit, but Robert came around behind me, and tugged
hard at the laces, which tightened the garment much more fiercely, so that
my waist was now tightly constricted, and my breasts were forced higher,
their nipples pointing above horizontal.  In spite of the discomfort the
corset gave me, I felt sexy, and was looking at myself in a long mirror
when Robert gave me a packet containing a pair of long white, lace-top
stockings.  I put these on, coupling them to the garter belt.  Meantime, he
had found me a pair of platform-soled, needle-heeled silver shoes.  The
heels were at least five inches high, and I was going to have to practice
walking in them.  Whilst I was doing so, Ti-Liu had returned, and handed a
garment to Robert, who passed it on to me.  'Slip this on now,' he said,
'and you are ready, apart from a little jewellery.'

   It was a white nylon nightdress, totally transparent, which came down to
mid-thigh.  When I looked in the mirror, I might just as well have been
naked.

   'I can't face people like this,' I said to Robert.

   'You look terrific,' he said, and glancing around to see that none of
the other girls were watching, he reached around behind me, and ran his
hand down the crack of my bare arse, just all too briefly letting a playful
finger tease the very portals of my eager cunt.  I thought I should die
with desire for him, and knew I could show myself to anyone, anywhere, if
only there was a chance of being fucked by Robert.  Secretly, within
myself, I also knew I should really love showing myself, anyway.

   I sat and waited whilst the other girls were dressed in similar outfits
to my own, the black girl, whose name was Nadine, looking especially good
in white, whilst the blondes wore red outfits.  Ti-Liu gave us all long
pendant ear-rings and fake gold bracelets and anklets, and we were ready to
go, after Robert had sent out for pizzas and a drink for us all.

   I followed the other girls to the last rack in the dressing room, when
it was time to go, and we all put on long fur coats, which was apparently
how they always covered themselves on the way to appointments.  Robert
drove us the ten kilometres in his Mercedes, to the plush club, in the
outskirts of the city, where we were met by a doorman, and ushered in
through a side door.

   Whilst we sat down in a nice dressing room, and waited for the call,
with Robert off talking to the management of the club, I tried to get some
information from the other girls about what really went on, but they
weren't able  -" or willing  -" to impart very much.  'Just do what we do,'
said Nadine, who spoke some English.

   Robert came in, and said in French, 'Five minutes, girls.' We put the
finishing touches to our make-up, then Robert opened the door, and pushed
us out on to what I imagined was the cat-walk.

   The blondes went first, then Nadine, and I brought up the rear.  There
was no cat-walk!  We had to walk between tables, where people, by no means
all men, sat drinking, smoking, and, as we entered, applauding.  There was
a tiny dance floor in the centre of the room, and we all made our way
there, several hands stroking my flanks as I passed, then walked up and
down, following the lead of Cecile, who seemed the most experienced at
showing off her lingerie under the spotlights which played on us.  The
music was slow and sensual, and I soon got into the mood, slinking around,
cupping my tits in my hands, then running them down between my legs, and
letting them linger around my buttocks when I turned my arse to the
audience and let my nightdress ride up.  Anne was on her hands and knees,
creeping towards a florid man, who held out a hand to her, so that she
could grab it and suck his thumb.

   Nadine went amongst the audience, carefully selecting a couple who were
sat on a small sofa.  She sat on the man's lap, and kissed the woman full
on the lips, bringing a roar from everyone watching.  Cecile now borrowed a
chair and sat on it in the middle of the dance floor, opening her slim legs
wide, to show her naked pussy to all and sundry.  With the fingers of both
hands, she parted the lips, exposing her pink cunt, and gaping dark
fuck-hole.  A gasp came from nearby watchers, some of whom were now
masturbating openly.  I knew I had to do something to match them, and,
seeing a fit-looking middle-aged man sat near the floor, I pulled him from
his seat, and got him to dance with me to the strains of the slow music. 
His massive erection ground into me as I squirmed and wriggled around the
floor with him, and his hot breath came in short gusts, as his hands found
my arse.  Then he suddenly thrust me away, and raced back to his seat, his
face bright red.  I knew he had shot his load in his trousers!  Those who
noticed roared with laughter, but I tried to cover for the poor man, by
carrying on dancing.

   The show went on in this mode for upwards of an hour, then the lights
came on, and it was all over.  All of us had teased, none of us had yielded
very much.  We left to tumultuous applause, put our fur coats back on, and
went back to the office.  Our work for the day was done.

   When I reported for duty next morning, Robert was back in his place.

   'I'm told you did well yesterday, my dear,' he said, 'here are the
papers my son should have had you sign yesterday.'

   He passed three sheets of typed A4 over the desk, and showed me where to
sign.  It was pointless trying to understand the convoluted French, so I
scribbled my signature and passed them back.

   He smiled, 'Trusting, aren't you?'

   'Do I have an option?'

   He changed the subject, 'My son is very impressed with you, Claire.'

   I raised my eyebrows  -" he hadn't shown any signs of being particularly
taken with me at all.

   'We have a show lined up for you this afternoon, just you and Nadine,
then my son says he would like you to have dinner with him.'

   I was staggered by the proposition  -" a date with the boss's son!  The
most beautiful man I had clapped eyes on in years, I could hardly believe
it.

   There was a lot of coming and going in the dressing room, as both Cecile
and Anne, together with two more girls I hadn't seen before, brunettes by
the names of Giselle and Jacqueline, got ready to be taken to what they
described as a 'big private party' near Versailles.  They all wore nothing
more than skimpy garter belts, stockings and half-bras under their fur
coats when they left the building, to be driven to their destination by
Robert, who arrived looking stressed and in a hurry, appearing hardly to
notice me.

   Nadine and I had a little more time to don our outfit for the show we
were to give  -" in my case a black mesh catsuit, with a lewdly suggestive
opening at the crotch, whilst Nadine was to wear an identical one in white,
to contrast with her black skin.  We each cinched microscopic flared nylon
miniskirts around our waists, mine barely covering my pussy, and were
pronounced ready.  My nipples stuck out through the mesh of the catsuit,
and seemed to be harder than usual, whether due to the thrill of exposure,
or to the chill, I couldn't say.

   The show this time was in a club similar to the previous day's venue (we
were driven there by Roger), and we were very popular in our minimal
outfits.  Nadine and I did a number together on a low, revolving, stage,
culminating in a sort of semi  -" 'sixty-nine' position, where we showed
each other's pussies to the audience.  I loved the pinkness of Nadine's
slit, inside the secrecy of her black, puffy lips, and found my own sex
getting wet as I stroked her.  Then we circulated, teasing the audience as
much as we dared, and, comparing notes later, decided that about twenty
percent of the men had been masturbating openly, and many of the rest in
secret.  When Roger took us back to Montmartre, his son was waiting for us,
having just arrived with the other girls from their own show.  He now
looked relaxed, and greeted me warmly, kissing me on both cheeks.  'You
look lovely in your fur coat,' he said, 'but I hope my father told you that
I should like to take you to dinner tonight?'

   'Yes,' I said, then, feeling a sudden panic, 'but I have nothing to wear
 -" I came in jeans.'

   'Don't worry about that,' he said, 'Ti-Liu will see to it  -" I have
already spoken with her.  I am going home to change now, and I'll collect
you at eight, OK?'

   Before I had chance to reply, he was gone, and, when I turned, Ti-Liu
was at my shoulder, helping me off with my coat, and smiling.

   The little Asian girl helped me with my hair and make-up, and fussed
around the racks, which were her domain.

   'You must be very beautiful tonight,' she said, 'Monsieur Robert will
take you to a very special place.'

   Butterflies were circulating in my stomach when she helped me off with
my robe and slipped the dress she had chosen over my head in a swish of
silk.  It was a short, pure white, halter-necked, backless dress of soft
silk, all but revealing the top of the crack between my buttocks, so deep
was the dÃ(C)colletÃ(C) at the back, whilst the soft silk of the bodice
would allow my breasts to jiggle as I walked, my nipples grazing and
jutting through the material.  The skirt was flared, and mid-thigh length,
and I debated with myself about underwear, but Ti-Liu had decided for me,
and a pair of white lace-top hold-ups was as much as she thought I should
wear.  I loved the feeling of going without panties, my shaven pussy
accentuating the sensation of nakedness, and the silk of the dress against
my bare skin was a caress.  I stepped into a pair of needle-heeled silver
sandals, and let Ti-Liu fit me with a pair of very long silver pendant
ear-rings.

   'You look stunning,' said Robert, when he picked me up, and he was
looking pretty good himself, in a white tuxedo.

   We went to a wonderful restaurant, not too far from Emma's flat, I
thought, with my hazy knowledge of Paris, and I felt hungry eyes on me as
we took our place at a corner table.  Our young waiter lost no opportunity
to ogle my tits, and when I dropped a fork on the floor, he 'accidentally'
let his arm brush against my breast when he replaced it.

   Robert watched this in quiet amusement, and, when we had finished our
delicious meal, washed down with ample and excellent wine, and were sat
'side-saddle' in our chairs, taking coffee and brandies, he leaned over and
pointed out to me the couple at the next table, about three or four metres
away, until then half-hidden by a vase of flowers.  The darkly-handsome man
was older than his blonde companion, who was petite, her small face framed
by opulent cascades of silken hair.  She wore a skin-tight black minidress.

   'I know you are an exhibitionist, Claire,' said Robert, in a low voice,
'and I imagine you didn't wear panties?' He raised his eyebrows, and went
on, 'No?  Why don't you show her your cunt, then?' As he spoke, he was
looking across at the girl, and she was smiling back at him.  He inclined
his head toward me.

   I was at first too shocked to move, but he reached across the table and
patted my arm, 'Go on, who knows where it may lead?'

   Whether it was the wine, the brandy, Robert, or a combination of all
three, I don't know.  Perhaps it was just me.  I caught the blonde's eye,
and realised that her escort was engaged in studying the wine list just at
that moment.  As subtly as I could, I let a hand trail down between my
thighs, and eased the loose hem of my skirt jut a few inches upwards,
simultaneously parting my legs just enough so that I was sure the blonde
could see my naked slit.  At the same time I opened my mouth fractionally,
and let my tongue run momentarily into the gap between my teeth.

   I smoothed my dress back down, and lifted my brandy glass, to see the
blonde mirroring my action  -" we silently drank a toast to each other, and
she squirmed on her seat, as if she was undecided whether to reciprocate
fully.

   'Now go to the toilet,' said Robert, 'if she goes too, invite them both
back for drinks.  I live nearby.'

   I wasn't sure what I thought about this new role, but I was very
excited, anyway, and picked up my purse and threaded my way through the
tables to the marble-clad toilets, conscious of being watched all the way.
I was no sooner standing by the vanity basin, repairing my lipstick, than
the blonde was beside me.  She was taller than I had thought, but a little
shorter than myself, and even more beautiful than I had thought, close up.

   'Je m'appelle Danielle,' she said simply, extending a beautifully
manicured hand, with scarlet nails an inch beyond her finger-tips.  I used
my rudimentary French to introduce myself, and to invite her and her
partner, as Robert had asked me to.  She accepted, then, putting her arm
quickly around my neck, pulled me into an embrace, and kissed me full on
the lips, her tongue instantly pushing its way into my mouth, as her lithe
body moulded itself against me.  Then the door of the toilet started to
open, and an older woman came in.  We parted, my breathing shallow, and as
I glanced at Danielle, her green eyes shone.

   'A bientÃ't, cherie,' she said, and we made our separate ways back to
our respective tables.

   I reported my success to Robert, and he merely scribbled a time on a
business card, handed it to the attentive waiter, and told him to give it
to the gentleman at the other table.

   We drove for about five minutes, and pulled up outside a large, early
nineteenth century house with a big, semi-circular driveway.  A pretty
Asian maid in uniform answered the door and we went into a large
comfortable lounge with a log fire roaring away, and three big sofas
arrayed in front of it.

   I think I had been expecting Robert to ravish me there and then.  It
must have been a combination of wearing the sexy dress, being ogled by all
those eyes, showing my pussy to Danielle, the episode with her in the loo,
the drink, altogether, my whole being was begging to be fucked, and fucked
there and then.  When I sat down on the sofa next to Robert, the wetness
between my legs was a conscious presence, and it was all I could do not to
masturbate right there beside him  -" I so much needed to cum.  He called
the maid  -" Lily was her name  -" and she trotted in, all high heels and
long legs in her black silk miniskirt and mesh stockings, and served us
drinks, though I wanted no more.  At that moment, the doorbell sounded, and
she scampered off, to return, ushering in Danielle, shrugging off an
opulent mink coat, and her escort, whom I learned was called Paul.

   Robert put a CD on the hi-fi, smoochy blues, and poured a large brandy
for Paul, then suggested that Danielle and myself may like to dance.  It
seemed the most natural thing in the world to dance with her, even though I
hadn't danced closely with another girl since my schooldays, and we held
each other like lovers.  Her hands soon found the hem of my skirt, and
caressed my buttocks, as I returned the compliment, and we kissed lightly
at first, then more searchingly, our tongues meeting and probing, as her
heady perfume intoxicated me.

   Before I knew it, her long-nailed fingers were busy, questing gently
into my tight little arsehole, where she let a finger rest a moment until I
let out a little gasp, then she ran her delicate touch further down.  We
were static now, and she eased my legs apart, and quite suddenly speared a
finger deep into my sopping wet cunt.

   'Oh!' I said, and felt my knees begin to buckle.  I pulled Danielle down
onto a sofa, and we were in a '69' position in seconds.  She too was
soaking, and her pussy was shaven and sweet, with puffy lips, and, most
beautifully, a large silver ring through her clitoris-hood.  I delved into
her honey-pot with my tongue, and felt her lapping me.  I came with a
shuddering violence I hadn't known was within me, and Danielle stiffened
and then bucked as she too felt the throes of an orgasm.

   Before I had fully recovered from my climax, she was pulling my legs
wide apart, and I felt, rather than saw, a new presence, as Robert climbed
onto the sofa, and started to penetrate me with what must have been an
enormous weapon.  I thought he was going to tear me for sure as he forced
himself into me, and his huge prick filled my cunt as it had never been
filled before.  As if his great width wasn't enough, his length took him to
the very neck of my womb, and when he started slowly to pound in and out,
his balls slapped against my arse with each mighty stroke.

   'Oh, Robert,' I yelled, 'fuck me, fuck me hard.' But when I opened my
eyes and looked up, I saw that it wasn't Robert who was inside me at all,
but Paul, and Robert was fucking Danielle, at the other end of the sofa!  I
didn't care, and abandoned myself to being fucked as never before.  When I
felt that he was about to cum, I pulled him deep into me, and flexed my
cunt-muscles as hard as I could, and he grunted with animal pleasure as he
shot his load of hot spunk into my very centre.  I gripped him with my
legs, and rammed a finger abruptly up his rectum, which kept him hard, and
when, after a time, I started to move gently under him again, he was ready
to fuck me again.  But I pushed him away, and grabbed Robert, who was
laying quietly with Danielle, saying, 'Your turn now.'

   Whilst Paul used his new-found erection on Danielle, I concentrated on
Robert, whose flaccid cock needed attention.  It got that, from my mouth,
and I soon had him hard again, first licking him clean after his fuck with
the lovely blonde.  Then he soon started to enjoy my lips, as I took his
whole length deep in my throat, and he played with my erect nipples under
the silk of my dress.

   Then I lay back and opened my legs, parting my labia with the fingers of
both hands, so that he could see my recently-fucked cunt in all its pink
wetness.  This is a posture, I know, that no man can resist, and he threw
himself on me and plunged his shaft into me without ceremony.  He was
nowhere near as big as Paul, but I was able to use my muscles on him very
well, and he soon gave a great trembling heave, and a roar, as he spent his
wad of creamy cum.

   A week later I moved in with Robert, and have indulged my exhibitionism
since then.  I never wear panties now, and, when we go out together, he
often has me show my body off to someone he happens to like.  We have a lot
of visitors, sometimes the girls from the firm.  Nadine, the black girl, is
a great favourite of ours  -" she may even come to live with us one day.



   Claire's Career Ch.  02

   My career on the 'alternative' catwalks of Paris was always exciting,
but not much more so than my personal life, with Robert, who indulged my
taste for showing off my body, and didn't mind a bit that I myself enjoyed
nothing better than the knowledge that a stranger had been treated to a
view of my shaven pussy, or, better still, that I had made love with him 
-" or someone else  -" in a public place.

   We took to inviting Ti-Liu, the little Asian girl from our office, to
our house-parties.  She was agile and inventive, and Robert loved to have
me masturbate him while we watched Ti-Liu and his servant Lily making love
together.

   Then one day, Robert said to me, 'I've been talking to my father, and he
thinks the time is right to open a new type of Club.  The people who come
to our shows are demanding more and more, and are no longer satisfied with
just looking at pussy  -" they want to see live sex, and some variety.'

   I must have looked doubtful, because he laughed lightly and went on,
'Don't worry, we shall vet our clients very carefully.  The new club must
be very exclusive.  After all, it won't be the first one in Paris, I assure
you  -" but it will certainly be the best.'

   'And who do you think will take part in these shows?' I asked.

   'I thought we should ask the blonde, Cecile, Nadine, and perhaps Ti-Liu
and Giselle, but I have no doubt as to whom I want to be the star.'

   'Oh no!' I said, 'being fucked on stage?  I draw the line at that.'

   'But I haven't yet told you who the studs will be, have I?'

   'It doesn't matter, I couldn't fake orgasms on stage  -" and they'd have
to be fake; no way could I cum with an audience.'

   'I'll tell you what,' he said, 'I'll come to a compromise  -" how about
you do a strip and warm up the guys for the other girls?  Could you cope
with something like that?'

   'We'll see,' was all I would say, and I never asked him what he had
meant by 'variety.'

   During the next weeks, we acquired a lovely old mansion near Versailles,
and a lot of conversion work went ahead with great speed.  Staff was
trained, and Robert and I spent most of our time at the new Club.  His
father, Roger, was a frequent visitor.  During that time, I met the two
'studs.' One was a huge black guy, Paul, who was distantly related to
Nadine, and the other an athletic-looking blond Ukranian called Sergei, who
spoke minimal French and no English at all.  I had to agree with Robert
that they were a fine pair of specimens, but then I asked him if he didn't
fancy getting involved in the action himself.  'I may, sometimes,' he
replied, 'but I'll keep my options open.'

   We opened in front of an invited audience, on a cold November evening.
When I glanced out at the cars arriving, there was a stream of Mercedes,
BMW's and the like, and the people coming in through the plush foyer might
have been arriving for an evening at the opera, well-dressed, with a
preponderance of men, though many escorted by women, often young and
beautiful ones, too.

   Once the forty of fifty people were seated in the auditorium, all on
plush sofas, with low mahogany tables in front of them, the blue velvet
curtains parted for the show to begin, and Roger came on to make a short
welcoming speech.

   I was nervous, waiting in the wings.  Although I had faced the public in
the erotic fashion shows many times by now, I had never actually done a
striptease, as such.  I was both frightened and thrilled by the prospect.

   In keeping with the evening, I was 'dressed up,' in a long evening gown
of black velvet with long gloves.  For the first number, 'A Whiter Shade of
Pale,' I gyrated around as sexily as I knew how, running my hands around my
body, without removing anything but my gloves, which I did as artfully as I
could.  Then the music changed to 'Tiene que Marchar' and I reached behind
me, and unzipped my dress, revealing my stark nakedness in contrast to the
black dress.  I had deliberately worn no underwear, to create the impact. I
eased the dress off my shoulders, and thee tension was building as I let it
bunch around my hips, cupping my breasts, and making a great play of
kneading them, and tweaking my nipples between thumb and forefinger.  When
the music changed again, this time to 'Je t'aime, moi non plus' I pushed
the dress down over my hips and stood naked but for my stilettos.  I sat on
an upholstered stool centre stage, and faced the audience, smiling, my hand
covering my shaven pussy.  Then I simply, and, I hope gracefully, to the
music, whisked my hand away, and opened my legs wide.

   A ripple of applause grew, as I put two fingers of my right hand between
my legs, and parted my labia, showing all and sundry the damp pinkness of
my cunt.

   Then I stood, and that was a signal for Sergei to enter from the wings.
He came striding in dressed in a long brocade robe, and I had to say he
looked magnificent, his broad shoulders and narrow hips making him look
like a Greek God.

   The music changed again.  This time to a stronger beat, something I
didn't recognise, and I did as I had been told, and put my hands on his
shoulders, whereupon he bent down and kissed me.  In spite of myself, I
felt a little tremor of excitement, knowing what I was about to do.

   Slowly, for the audience's benefit, I parted his robe, and found his
flaccid cock, already large and heavy in my hand.  I looked into his eyes,
and saw a gleam in them as I stroked life into him, then dropped to my
knees, and took him straight into my mouth, while he seized my hair with
both hands.  I looked up at him as I sucked him, taking him all the way
into my throat, and the audience was now applauding wildly.  He was
rock-hard, massive, in moments.

   As the music faded, Nadine strutted on to the stage, her black skin
contrasting with white half-bra, garter-belt and stockings.  It was my
signal to exit, and share the applause with her.  As she reached Sergei,
she imperiously whisked away his robe, while I watched from the darkness of
the wings, a wrap thrown around me by Robert.  Sergei sat on the stool I
had vacated, facing the audience, a slight smile on his handsome face,
toying with his erection, as Nadine came around in front of him, straddling
him with her long black, white-stockinged legs, also facing the audience,
and writhing slowly to the music as she lowered herself with infinite
slowness onto his waiting phallus.  The audience let forth an audible
intake of breath as she impaled herself on his cock, her cavernous, hungry
cunt swallowing even his prodigious tool with comfort.  She rode him,
crying out with each stroke, but I knew that was for the audience's
benefit, as was the subtly added sound-track, of little squelching noises,
running along with the music.

   But, in spite of myself, I was getting quite excited watching the
spectacle, and Robert, behind me, knew it, just by the feel of my hardening
nipples.

   'They're not bad, are they?' he said, rhetorically, as Nadine went into
the last phase of her routine, and climbing off the Ukranian's lap, knelt
beside him, and took him in her lips.  She pumped him with her hand, her
lips just at his crown, and his facial expression showed that he was close
to climax.

   I switched my gaze to the audience, and saw, although it was not easy to
see anything in the gloom out there, that many of the couples present were
embracing in one way or another  -" it looked as if the show was a success
in that respect, at least.

   Sergei was now heard to utter one of his few phrases off French,
'j'arrive!' and Nadine let him shoot his load of creamy cum all over her
face.  The white cum contrasted well with her black face under the lights,
I thought.  The curtain came down to great applause.

   After an interval of about a quarter of an hour, Robert said, 'OK,
girls, positions, please!'

   I wasn't to be involved in this one, so went around and sat at a spare
table off to one side, to watch.  The stripper this time was the blonde
Giselle, a tall, voluptuous girl, with heavy breasts, but a narrow waist.

   She had dressed in a white whale-boned corset which enhanced her curves
still more, and revealed it when, at the first change off music, she took
off her short red velvet dress.  Then her breasts stood out proudly above
the cruel corset, which also had the effect of thrusting out her buttocks.
She came to the edge of the stage and invited one of the audience to untie
the bows on her panties.  When the white-haired gentleman had done so, she
leaned over and put a nipple in his mouth, to much enthusiastic applause.
She wore extravagantly high heels now, but nothing else, other than the
corset, and, as the music changed, Paul entered, stark naked, impressive, I
thought, as hell.  What a body!  He could have been an Olympic sprinter, it
was said, but for an unfortunate tendon injury, and I believed it.  Giselle
sidled up to him, walking around him, as if to appraise his body, and I now
saw why she had been chosen.  Again the contrast of her blonde hair and
white corset against his black beauty  -" it was highly effective.  She
came up to him and took his hand, pulling it straight to her pussy, and
pressing it there, meanwhile rubbing her tits around his body.  His
enormous prick immediately started to show signs of life, and she seized
it, then dropped to her knees, making sure they were centre-stage, and took
him in her mouth.  She gave him a terrific blow-job, alternately sucking
and licking, massaging his huge balls as she went.  But then the music
changed, and she took her bow, again to much applause.  I was just
wondering if this was going to be a bit of a 'repeat' of what our previous
performance had been, when Cecile allayed my fears.  Cecile was another
blonde, but slimmer, almost like a fashion-model.  I didn't know her too
well, but she had a reputation for being very sexy, and I was to see why.

   She came on stage in a fishnet cat-suit, rather like ones we had worn at
some of our erotic fashion shows.  It covered her all over, from her neck
to her feet, but when she sat on the stool, and threw her legs wide apart,
she revealed that the crotch was entirely open.  She fingered herself,
while Paul massaged her firm tits through the mesh of her suit, then she
pushed him roughly away from her, and did an abrupt about-turn, so that she
was now kneeling, with her breasts on the stool.  She parted her knees,
and, reaching behind her with both hands, pulled her arse-cheeks wide
apart. The audience gave a collective gasp, and the music swelled, as she
showed the wide, dark cavern of a well-used arsehole!

   Paul knew his role, and, needing no lubricant, he rammed his huge cock
right into her waiting rectum.  I was dripping wet by now  -" I had no idea
that Cecile was going to be taken like this, and could hardly wait for my
own turn.  I had only had anal sex on one fairly unsuccessful occasion, a
long time ago, and was now fairly bursting for Robert to do it with me.

   Paul shafted Cecile brutally, and she screamed, probably mainly for the
audience, until he pulled out and came copiously across her back.  The
curtain came down to tumultuous applause.

   After another, longer interval, Robert asked me how I thought it had
gone, so far.  I said I thought it was very good.

   'Good,' he said, 'but you know what I said about variety?'

   'I thought we'd already had that.'

   'Some,' he said, 'but Ti-Liu wants to try something else.'

   'Something else?'

   'Yes, she wants you to whip her.'

   'But I'm not into that sort of thing,' I protested.

   'It's only for the show,' he said, spreading his arms wide, 'besides,
it's what she wants, and who knows, you may enjoy it.'

   After the episode with Cecile, I was, in truth, ready for anything, so I
found myself in the wings again, dressed in a black leather, crotchless
cat-suit and spiky boots.  I carried a leather flogger.  Ti-Liu was dressed
in a long white silk gown, was barefoot, and had her wrists and ankles
shackled.  Sergei, who claimed to have recovered, was dressed in a black
monk's cowelled robe.

   When a Georgian chant started up, we trooped on stage, as the curtain
came up on a scene with a St.  Andrew's Cross prominent in centre stage,
snap-links at its extremities, and a low couch.

   I acted around a bit, and had Ti-Liu get down on all fours and kiss my
naked pussy (which I found myself actually enjoying quite a lot) Then I
undid the clasps at her shoulders and her dress fell to the floor.  I
swished my whip theatrically, and Sergei responded by clipping Ti-Liu's
wrists and ankles to the cross, her back to the audience.  I stood back and
swung the flogger around with more show than force, and brought it down
across her back.

   'Harder,' she whispered, 'hurt me!'

   I didn't want to hurt her, my sweet friend, but she was asking me to,
and I knew she meant it.  I lashed her a bit harder, and a slight reddening
appeared.

   'Much harder, Claire,' she pleaded, under cover of the music, and I laid
about her with all the force I could muster, until she moaned with --
--with what?  Pain, pleasure?  I wasn't sure.  After a few more strokes,
with the audience now roaring, I told Sergei to take her down, he did so,
and then laid her across the couch, and penetrated her instantly, driving
his shaft into her as she moaned with all the intensity of someone who
knows real desire.  It was a lifelike performance, I thought, as I left the
scene to much applause.

   'Well, what did you think to our first night,' said Robert, on our way
home.

   'Just get me home and fuck me, will you,' I said.