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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
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type of literature, or you are under age,
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Glamor Model
by Ed Rider (edrider73@gmail.com)
***
A woman is deep debt, facing financial ruin agrees to
become a porn actor and tries to accomplish something
that no one has tried before so that she can earn her
way out of debt fast. (M+/F, v, exh, huml)
***
Glamor Models Wanted
No Nudity
Natural bodies only.
Tiffany had seen the online ad before, but this was
the first time she read beyond the headline. It was
one of those ads that popped up on the right side of
the screen every once in a while when she was doing a
search or looking at her email, one of those ads that
she automatically ignored. For some reason, she looked
at it today and read the whole thing.
Below the three lines was an email address. Tiffany
looked at the ad and wondered what "natural bodies
only" meant. She figured they didn't want any breast
or face enhancements and that pleased her. She never
talked about it, but she was secretly vain about her
looks. She knew that she had a face that was cute, and
her body was curvy and well proportioned, except for
her breasts, which were a bit large for the rest of
her.
She didn't mind that at all, and she dressed in a way
that emphasized her assets. It wasn't slutty, but
neither was it modest. Mildly provocative was the way
she thought of it. She got a lot of satisfaction from
the way men's eyes moved toward her breasts and the
way their heads jerked as she passed them so they
could follow the motion of her firm round rear. She
also noticed that if she was with a man, he seemed to
enjoy the silent attention she got from other men,
especially since she wasn't a flirt and pretended to
be oblivious to all the staring.
She looked at the words again. Natural bodies only.
Why did they care if there was no nudity? She clicked
on something else on the page and the ad disappeared.
A few days later, there it was again, and this time
she again wondered what it meant. She sent an email to
the ad's address from one of the anonymous addresses
she used for privacy, asking for an explanation. The
reply was so fast that it must have been automatic. It
said to please call and gave a local number. She
didn't call and forgot about it until the ad came up
again a few days later.
This time she went back to her anonymous address
inbox, found the number and called. A pleasant woman's
voice answered and said, "Hello. How may I help you?"
"I was reading your ad and wondered what you meant by
natural bodies only?"
"Are you interested in modeling?"
"I was just curious."
"Well, it means that you have never had any plastic
surgery or other body enhancing surgery. It also means
that you have no tattoos or piercings, and it means
that you have never shaved any of your body hair. Do
you qualify?"
"Oh, now I understand. I don't qualify, because I
shave my legs and under my arms."
"That doesn't count," said the woman. "What we mean is
have you ever had a bikini wax or shaved between your
legs?"
"Oh," said Tiffany. "Why would that matter if there's
no nudity?"
"I can't tell you," said the woman. "All I can do on
the phone is make an appointment if you want to ask
questions in person. But we're very strict on that
part, and it would be a waste of your time to set up
an appointment if you didn't qualify. Do you qualify?"
"What if I did?" said Tiffany.
"If you qualify and are decent looking, we pay $1,000
for a two-hour session," said the woman. "I've got
another call coming in. So if you qualify and are
interested, please call me back. Nice talking to you."
She hung up.
Tiffany's mind was whirling. The $1,000 got her
attention, because that amount would almost clean up
her credit card debt. She was not a big spender, but
over the last few years, the amount she carried had
gone up bit by bit, and now each bill made her angry
because she was barely paying the minimum and couldn't
seem to reduce the amount owed.
She thought about what she would have to do for the
$1,000. Glamor modeling but no nudity. She'd probably
have to wear some sexy outfits, but they wouldn't be
too skimpy, because otherwise her thick bush would
show. She knew she qualified, because she had never
shaved there. She worked out, but wasn't into
sunbathing or swimming, so she didn't have to worry
about bikinis.
She wasn't promiscuous, but some of her boyfriends
were surprised the first time they were intimate.
Except for one or two, they either didn't care or else
they really got into her look, and it became a turn-on
for them. She was even a little proud of how she could
excite some of them not only with her oversize breasts
but just by spreading her legs apart slightly when she
had no clothes on.
She called back and the same lady answered. "Hi,"
Tiffany said, "it's me again. I do qualify. So what
happens at the appointment?"
"You'll be meeting with a man and me, and he'll
explain exactly what we want you to do. Then if we
like what we see and hear, we'll set up the modeling
session. I can tell you that there won't be any
pressure and that you will be able to leave whenever
you want. You can also bring a girlfriend along to the
interview. We don't want any boyfriends, because we've
had problems with them in the past."
"And there's no nudity?" Tiffany asked.
"We're talking about a session for Wholesome Beauties
Dot Com, which has no nudity," said the woman. "You
can check it out online. It's a member's site, but you
can see what it's all about without having the
passcode. If you are really concerned, I can give you
a temporary passcode that will last a few hours so you
can go onto the whole site. Do you want to look at the
site first, or should I go ahead and book the
appointment?"
"Oh, let's make the appointment," said Tiffany. "I can
always cancel if I don't like what I see on the site."
"Absolutely," said the lady.
***
Tiffany took the elevator up to the 12th floor of the
downtown high-rise and walked down the hallway until
she found the office. There was a small waiting room
and a receptionist who greeted her. A few minutes
later, the receptionist said, "Mr. Smith will see you
now," and ushered her into a medium-sized office with
not much furniture. There was a desk and a few stuffed
leather chairs facing it. Tiffany looked back and saw
that the receptionist seemed to be locking the door to
the hall before following her into the office and
sitting down in one of the chairs.
A man was standing at his desk and reaching his arm
forward. "Hi Tiffany, I'm Edgar Smith," he said. "This
is Jane Smidge, my associate."
As Tiffany put out her hand, he gave it a friendly
shake and then sat down. She sat down facing him, with
Jane to the side of her.
"Have you looked at the website?" was the first thing
Smith said.
"Yes," said Tiffany. "Is that the kind of modeling you
want me to do?"
"Right," he said. "The Wholesome Beauties members are
looking for the girl next door who has a twinkle in
her eye. She's a little flirty and shows a little leg
in her miniskirt and a little cleavage in her scoop-
neck top, but she's more sweet than slutty. The
members are mostly men, but also some women, and they
like a lot of variety. I don't think their thoughts
are as pure and innocent as the models are supposed to
be. Does that bother you?"
"Oh no," said Tiffany. "But I noticed that the models
don't undress. So why is it so important that they are
natural?"
"Jane and I do contracting for several websites," said
Smith. "We decided when we started this business that
we would interview our models only once in order to
save time and money. It's part of our business plan,
and it's worked well for us. You either qualify for
all the sites we do business with, or we don't hire
you. So even though we're talking about Wholesome
Beauties Dot Com, before we set up your modeling
appointment, you will have to go into the dressing
room through the door on your right. Jane will go with
you.
"You will need to disrobe, and Jane will inspect you
thoroughly. She will ask you to position yourself in
some awkward ways and even have you use your hands to
pull certain things apart so she can make sure that
you have never done anything to your body. I'm sorry,
but that's a requirement." He looked deeply into her
eyes.
"Wow!" said Tiffany. "I don't know. I've heard of
people setting up secret cameras and things like
that."
"I understand your hesitation," said Smith. "We do
everything upfront, and there is never any pressure.
You are welcome to thoroughly inspect the dressing
room first. On purpose, there is nothing in it except
for a rod with a hangar to hang your clothes on, a
light and a chair, all in the middle of the room, so
it's easy for you to check out the walls, the ceiling
and the floors. We don't trick our models." He looked
closely at her as he said this, and Tiffany also
noticed Smidge was totally focused on her.
She thought for a while, and the room was silent. This
is going to be weird, she thought to herself, but for
some reason, she wanted to prove to Smith and Smidge
that she was natural and had a good body. "OK," she
finally said and got up to go to the dressing room.
"Wait a minute," said Smith. "Please sit down."
"What?" said Tiffany.
"We don't have to check you," said Smith. "We know you
qualify."
"How do you know that?" said Tiffany.
Smidge spoke up for the first time. "Mr. Smith and I
both have backgrounds in corporate psychology," she
said. "We can tell a lot about people by the way they
talk, their expressions and their body language.
That's why we were looking at you so closely. I know
it made you nervous, but that was the idea. We needed
to know if you really qualified, and all your signals
showed that you were telling the truth, so it's not
necessary for you to prove it."
"Wow!" said Tiffany again.
"Here," said Smith. "These are the contract and
release forms for you to sign. Please take as long as
you want to read them over. They are standard model
contracts. If you want, you can take them with you and
read them at home and then bring them back."
Smith and Smidge were no longer staring at her. Their
friendly smiles were reassuring. Tiffany glanced at
the form, saw $1,000 on one line and two hours on
another line. She signed.
"Thank you," said Smith, taking the forms back. "If it
works for you, your appointment is next Tuesday at 7
p.m. Here is the address." He handed her a card.
"Even though you signed the contract, you may change
your mind between now and then, and that's perfectly
fine. Just call the number at the bottom of the card
and cancel the appointment. All we ask is that you
call by Sunday, so we can schedule someone else for
the appointment. The most important thing is that you
are there next Tuesday ready and willing to work with
no second thoughts or hesitations."
Though Smith attempted to make it sound natural,
Tiffany could tell that his speech was memorized and
rehearsed. How many other "wholesome beauties" had
heard the same speech while sitting in the same chair?
She stood up. "Thank you," she said. "Don't worry.
I'll be there Tuesday night."
Smith and Smidge stood up and almost in unison said,
"Thank you, Tiffany."
***
The studio was nowhere near the downtown office, but
in an industrial park on the edge of town. Even though
the complex was well lit, Tiffany was a little nervous
as she drove through it, because it seemed to be
completely deserted. When she arrived at the address,
she saw four cars parked outside the door. She was 20
minutes early but decided to go in anyway.
As she entered, a woman sitting behind a long table in
the small room looked up and seemed startled. "I'm
Tiffany," said Tiffany.
"Oh," the woman said. "You're the 7 p.m. I wasn't
expecting you yet. Come this way."
She got up and took Tiffany's arm and led her through
a door on her left. Tiffany thought she was moving
awfully fast, even pulling a little.
They walked quickly through some narrow corridors.
Tiffany looked up and saw a high bare ceiling. This
studio was obviously a warehouse, and the walls were
inexpensive thin separators linked together. The woman
must have led Tiffany all the way to the other end of
the warehouse before she opened a door into a small
dressing room, with a big mirror, lots of lights and
makeup materials.
"I'm Agnes," the woman said as she started closing the
door. "Please sit down here so I can do your--"
Her words broke off as they heard the sound of a door
opening nearby, followed by loud sobbing that got
closer. Tiffany went to the door in time to see a
young woman walking by her. Her shoulders were shaking
as she alternated between gasping and crying, and she
was walking in a strange way, tiptoeing as if she was
trying not to put her feet down all the way to the
floor. Within seconds, she passed the room, and
Tiffany heard the sobs slowly fading as the woman
walked toward the front door down the halls that
Tiffany had come through.
"What was that?" Tiffany asked. For the first time,
she was scared.
"That was Jada, one of our models," said Agnes. "It
looks like she's not having a good night."
"That's for sure," said Tiffany nervously. "I wonder
what happened to her."
"You can be sure of one thing," Agnes said. "Nothing
happened except what was supposed to happen. We pride
ourselves on never forcing our models to do anything.
They know in advance what's expected, how long they'll
work and how much they'll make. And they can leave
whenever they want.
"It's natural that you're nervous. That's because this
is your first session. Once it's over, you'll be much
more relaxed, because you'll understand that no one
here will ever ask you to do anything you're not
willing to do."
"Oh, I'm not nervous," said Tiffany, although she was.
One thing the woman said stuck in her mind -- "this is
your first session." She had never thought of this in
any way other than as a one-time adventure. Nobody had
mentioned that she might be offered additional work.
Agnes sat her down, covered her with a smock and went
to work with the tweezers, brushes and blushes. Then
Tiffany changed into her first outfit for the night, a
brightly colored jumper with a short skirt.
***
Two weeks later the check for $1,000 came in the mail.
Tiffany deposited it and wrote a check to the credit
card company for the full amount. But then she went
shopping and charged about $200 worth of clothes.
The session had been a breeze. Agnes was there the
entire time, moving lights. She changed costumes three
times, and while the outfits were a little more risque
than her usual clothes, nothing was really cheap
looking. The photographer was friendly but very
professional. When he touched her to move an arm a
certain way or turn her in a slightly different
direction, it was never in an inappropriate way. She
felt good about everything and with the password Agnes
gave her, she looked at the website each day to see
how the photos came out.
The night the check came, the photos finally appeared,
and they were a bit disconcerting. It wasn't the
outfits or the small amount of skin she showed. It was
her expression.
The photographer had said she was a natural model,
that the camera loved her and that she should just act
as if she were teasing her boyfriend. But in the
photos, her expression was downright seductive, as if
she was ready to make love to whoever was looking at
her.
And it was not just her impression. There were already
lots of comments from both men and women about her
photo spread, both about her body and about her
lascivious facial expressions. None of them were
wholesome. They were about what they'd like to do to
Tiffany and what they'd like Tiffany to do for and to
them. Some of them were just raunchy, but many were
really disgusting. Tiffany shuddered and quickly
clicked to leave the site.
***
It was about a month after the shoot for the wholesome
beauties website.
She had looked at the site one more time after her
photos were posted and found hundreds of comments,
most of them lewd and many of them really sick. It was
a big turn-off for her, and she had decided to put the
whole episode behind her and not think of it again.
But that morning, her car didn't start. She had it
towed to the dealer, where she found out that she
could either fix it for a few thousand dollars or
trade it in and get a new car. She chose the second
option, but her car had been paid off, and now she had
new, larger monthly payments. They weren't huge, but
her credit card debt had slowly increased in the
meantime to where it was over $1,000 again. It made
her irritable and short tempered, and she thought of
the photo session again. It was disgusting what people
wrote about her, but the session had been all right
and the photos weren't anything to be ashamed of.
She remembered what Agnes had said about it being her
first session, and she wondered if Smith and Smidge
were satisfied with her work, because they had her
phone number, but after she received the check, she
never heard from them again.
For some reason, she had saved their phone number, and
she called it. She recognized the voice on the other
end as Smidge's.
"Hi Jane," she said, "I'm Tiffany, remember me?"
"How could I forget you," said Jane enthusiastically.
"You are our most popular girl on the site. Thank you
so much for the great shoot."
"I was wondering," said Tiffany. "Agnes said something
that made me think there might be more work. I'd be
willing to do another one if you like."
"Oh thank you," said Smidge, "but the Wholesome
Beauties members like a lot of variety, so we never
use the same girl twice."
"I wonder what Agnes was talking about," said Tiffany.
"Well, she may have been referring to one of the other
websites we work for."
"Are they similar?"
"No, each one is different. For instance there's one
called Upfront at Attention," said Smidge. "It
features young women who have prominent but not saggy
breasts going topless."
"Oh," said Tiffany. "And what do they do."
"Not much," said Smidge. "It's very similar to what
you did before, except you would be topless. You might
be positioned to highlight your breasts in different
ways, and you'd do strange things like jumping on a
trampoline because they like photos of flying breasts.
I'm sure you've seen things like that in the movies."
"Would there be a man involved?" asked Tiffany, and as
soon as she said it, she said to herself, why did I
ask her that?
"Oh no," said Smidge, "and before you ask, also no
women and no touching except when the photographer
wants a breast in a certain position. Mostly that's
not necessary, unless you don't understand how he
wants you positioned. It's the same photographer as
you had before."
By now, Tiffany was short of breath. Smidge was
talking as if the session were already set up. Not so
fast.
"Thanks so much for the information, Jane," she said.
"I'll think about it."
"Glad to be of help," said Smidge. "You sound nervous
about this, so please put it out of your mind. We
never pressure our models to do anything they're not
ready to do. It was nice talking to you, and thank you
again for your great session. Bye."
She hung up.
I wonder why she didn't attempt to calm me down and
persuade me, Tiffany thought.
A couple of days later, Tiffany called back, and when
Smidge answered, she blurted out, "I'm ready to do it,
that Upfront thing."
"Whoa," said Smidge. "You're all out of breath. I
don't think you're really ready for Upfront at
Attention. Did you look at the website?"
"No," said Tiffany, "and I don't want to. But I'm
willing to do what it takes. I know I'm a little
nervous, because I've never done anything like this
before. But I've thought about it. Is the modeling fee
the same as before?"
"We don't discuss fees for that site over the phone,"
said Smidge. "Can you come to the office tomorrow
morning at 9?"
"I'll be there," said Tiffany.
***
Smith was looking at Tiffany intently while Smidge
looked at her the same way from the side.
"Now, you understand that the contract says you are
willing to do anything involving your breasts," said
Smith. "What if the photographer said to take each
nipple between your thumb and fingers, pull your
breasts away from your chest and let them go flopping
back?"
The question startled Tiffany, but she replied
quickly, because she had already decided she was going
to do this. "No problem," she said, trying to sound
calm, but not succeeding.
"What if he asked you to stroke the nipples with your
fingers until they became hard and then stick out your
chest?" he asked.
"Fine."
"What if he made you get on your hands and knees and
sway from side to side so that he could get a shot of
your breasts swinging in the air."
"Well, my breasts don't droop much," said Tiffany,
"but I'd do it." Again, she wondered, why didn't she
just say OK instead of bragging about her breasts.
Her last reply seemed to satisfy both Smith and
Smidge, and they stopped watching her closely.
"OK," said Smith. "I think you may be ready for this.
I have some good news for you. Sessions for Upfront at
Attention pay $2,000 for two hours. Is tomorrow night
at 8 good?"
***
The session included all the things Smith had brought
up and a lot more. Strangely, her costumes below the
waist weren't costumes at all, but various kinds of
pants and skirts, none of them revealing. But from the
waist up, she was bare.
She never would have imagined that her two large round
glands could be pulled, pushed, turned or bounced in
so many ways. Once again, she was asked to smile
invitingly. She hesitated at first, remembering the
comments, but then she attempted to do a cute slightly
naughty expression.
The photographer was even nicer than before. He
flattered her and coaxed her. Occasionally, he moved
her body and even her breasts into positions he
wanted, but his hands never lingered on her flesh.
Still, when the two hours were up, she breathed a sigh
of relief.
She never went to the website to look at the photos,
because she didn't want to see any comments, and when
the check arrived in two weeks, she deposited it and
put everything out of her mind.
***
Tiffany got a little extravagant a few months after
her second modeling session, and when the credit card
bill came, she thought about the modeling assignments
again. She hesitated to call because she already knew
what Smidge would say, but then she called anyway.
"Hi, Jane, this is Tiffany. I guess you don't use
models more than once for Upfront at Attention."
"That's right, Tiffany. Same thing. Variety. By the
way, you are a smash on that site. All the members are
talking about both your body and your special look.
Each one seems to think you are looking right at him
or her, and they are really responding."
"Thanks, Jane," said Tiffany. She couldn't help
shuddering as she imagined what some of the comments
were. "You told me you have other websites that you do
sessions for."
"Yes, we do," said Smidge, "but they are not for you."
"What do you mean?" asked Tiffany.
"Well, for example, the tamest of the rest is called
High Priced Spread, and the girls do a striptease
until they are totally naked. Then they pose in
various positions but mostly with their legs wide
apart, so the members can see right through their body
hair. It's very demeaning and a lot less innocuous
than Upfront at Attention. Very few girls want to pose
that way."
"I see," said Tiffany. "Are there other people
involved, men or women?" She surprised herself at how
matter of factly she asked the question.
"No, not at all," said Smidge. "It's just like the
other sessions in that way. The photographer may touch
you just a little to get you in the right position,
but not your genitals. Although, honestly, you will
probably find most of the positions distasteful."
"Do I have to put anything inside of myself?" Tiffany
asked, again in a calm way.
"Absolutely not," said Smidge.
"When can I come in and sign the papers?"
***
Neither Smidge nor Smith was looking hard at her this
time. Maybe Smidge had told Smith how calm she had
been on the phone. But Smith still brought up some
distasteful questions.
"What if the photographer asks you to rub your
clitoris until your lips swell up and open so he can
shoot the pink and red colors inside you?"
"Fine," she said.
"What if you are asked to get on your hands and knees,
rest your head on a pillow and reach behind you to
pull your cheeks as wide as you can so the
photographer can do a close-up that shows every hair
around your anus?"
"OK, I guess. Sure"
"What if you are asked to lock your legs behind your
head and pull your lips wide apart so your vagina
looks huge?"
"Yes." Why did he have to go on and on with this
unappetizing stuff?
He seemed to read her mind. "I'm sorry, Tiffany. I can
see you're impatient with my questions," said Smith.
"But this is a big jump for you, and I want you to get
the feel of what the session will be like. I'll tell
you right now that we both feel you can do it, but we
are certain you're going to regret it afterwards. I
want you to think of the most embarrassing or
disgusting thing ever happened to you in your life
right now and look Jane in the eye."
"OK," said Tiffany and turned to look at her. "I'm
thinking of it." She felt her cheeks get flush.
"What you are going to do in this session will be a
lot worse," Smidge said. "Are you sure you want to go
ahead?
"Yes," said Tiffany, her voice quavering.
"Well, at least you are going into this with your eyes
open," said Smith, "so I hope you won't regret it for
long."
"I know what I'm doing, and I won't regret it,"
Tiffany said, convincing no one in the room.
"OK," said Smith. "Here are the papers to sign. For
this session, it's $4,000. It's tomorrow night at 6
p.m. Jane and I will be in the office until 6, so if
you change your mind, just call us, and there are no
hard feelings.
"One more thing you should know. Because of past
experiences, there's a clause in the contract that
says you can stop at any time after 10 minutes. If you
do, we will keep the photos that have already been
shot and mail you a check for $1,000. So keep that in
mind: 10 minutes. If you stop before then, we keep the
photos and you get nothing."
"What if I want to stop at 20 minutes?" Tiffany asked.
"Exactly the same," said Smith. "We keep all the
photos and you get only $1,000. Please think about
this and call us if you change your mind."
***
When Tiffany got home from the session, she went right
for the shower and let the hot water beat down on her
for 15 minutes while she stared straight ahead without
moving. Even after she washed with soap, her skin
crawled as if she had been rolling in dirt and had
ants all over her body. She didn't look at herself in
the mirror.
The next morning, the first time she saw her face, she
began crying. At the office, she didn't speak much the
whole day.
After that, it got better. Within a week, she was
almost back to normal. She had a brief relapse when
the check for $4,000 arrived, but that only lasted a
few hours. She revved up her activities and social
life, got rid of her boyfriend, who was starting to
take her for granted, and started dating around. She
found someone who liked and appreciated her and never
looked at High Priced Spread until a year later.
***
Tiffany was at home feeling sorry for herself. She had
just been dumped by a boyfriend she really liked. His
old sweetheart from home had begun calling him and
enticed him away.
She was home alone and feeling sorry for herself, and
for some reason, she went to the High Priced Spread
website. She didn't have a password, but she scrolled
down through girl after girl until she found one large
photo of herself and two smaller ones, along with a
fake name and some writing that had nothing to do with
her. But the photos were the grossest things she had
ever seen. She couldn't believe that it was her in
those repulsive photos. She didn't remember getting
into those positions, but then she didn't remember
anything of those two hours. She had blocked them the
minute she left the studio.
Maybe it was the shock of seeing herself or maybe the
boyfriend trouble, or both, but for the next few weeks
she comforted herself. When Tiffany comforted herself,
she didn't do it with food, she did it at the stores.
Then came the day when the bills arrived and she
almost screamed. What was she doing? She put the bills
aside and didn't look at them until a week later, when
she became frantic. It was too much for her to even
pay the minimum.
She would have to do something drastic, like declare
bankruptcy. Then she'd have to sell everything, move
into a tiny apartment in a bad neighborhood and start
all over by eating frozen dinners every night and
paying cash for everything. She felt nauseous, like
everything was closing in around her and choking her
to death. What could she do?
The modeling session that she had suppressed in her
mind came back to her. She couldn't remember
everything, but she recalled a few scenes and began
shaking in fear, as if she were watching a horror
movie. No, she couldn't call Smith and Smidge again.
Besides she needed a lot more money than they could
pay her, even if she went to the next level of
whatever they had.
She ran through other wild schemes in her mind. She
would take to the streets and sell herself, but only
to men who were clean and kind. But those men weren't
buying. The ones who would pay were dirty and cruel
and would make her do things worse than she had
already done -- and for only a few hundred dollars
each time. Her mind was going in crazy directions. She
was exhausted, but when she went to bed, she couldn't
fall asleep. Finally, she felt so numb that she
drifted off.
The next morning, she awoke and sat straight up in
bed. Before she had time to think, she went to the
phone and dialed the number. Even though it was only
8:30, Smidge was already there.
She tried to control herself, but broke down on the
phone. "Jane, I'm so sorry," she said through her
sobs. "I've done some horrible things, and it's
nobody's fault but my own. I don't know what to do
now. I'm desperate."
Smidge sounded shocked. "Tiffany, Tiffany," she said
soothingly. "Please try to pull yourself together.
What have you done? Are the police after you? Tell me
everything."
Tiffany poured her heart out and told her every
detail, and Smidge sighed.
"Tiffany, I know it seems like the end of the world,
but this problem is nothing. It will be hard, but you
can handle it. You already told me what you need to
do."
"You don't understand, Jane. I can't live like that.
If I don't get $20,000 by the end of the month, I'll
kill myself first."
"Shut up, Tiffany. Don't you ever say anything like
that again, you hear? I want you to call in sick at
work and wait there until I talk to Edgar. He'll be
here in about a half-hour."
When Smidge called back, all she said was, "Be in our
office at 10 a.m.," and then hung up.
When Tiffany arrived, Smidge didn't say a word but got
up and opened the door to Smith's office and followed
her in. Once again, she was looking at her intently,
as if she was monitoring every word she said and every
move she made. Smith didn't waste time with
pleasantries.
"Jane told me everything," he said sternly, "and first
of all, if I hear anything about you doing something
crazy, I'm going to call social services to send
someone over to evaluate you and see if you should be
committed. Jane has locked the front door, so you
can't leave. Understand?"
Tiffany nodded.
"Now, we are a business, not a charitable agency. So
let me tell you a few things. Most of the girls who
answer our ads are receptive to our business. Usually,
they progress from one site to another within a few
weeks. They decide when they've gone far enough, and
then we never see them again. Just a few go on to
careers in porn. Some of them make it big, and some
don't, but they all either enjoy what they do or
decide that doing it is worth the money for as long as
they're in demand.
"Jane and I used our knowledge of psychology to figure
out a system that lets them enjoy going wild while
keeping safety controls in place so they don't hurt
themselves. That's why we never push them and always
bring them along in small steps, so each new site is
just a little more hardcore than the last one.
"Your demeanor in the first two sessions made us think
that you were the type of girl who enjoyed acting the
slut in front of the camera. Then your session for
High Priced Spread was among the hottest we've ever
done. You went way beyond what most girls would do.
The photographs show a sexually ravenous
exhibitionist, and they are the envy of our
competitors. It wasn't until the session was over that
we realized something was wrong.
"Agnes told us how you were acting when you left, and
that's when we realized why you were so slow in
calling us back. You are a sexual schizophrenic. It's
a rare condition, but not unknown. It's a bipolar
mental illness that can turn you from a normal woman
with normal sexual drives and inhibitions into someone
who revels in exhibiting her body and making love like
a bitch in heat. That's the version of you that showed
up in front of the camera.
"But then your other self makes you feel guilty, and
as soon as you're vulnerable, it punishes you by
making you do things like get further in debt so you
are forced to degrade yourself again. The only thing
that will stop this is treatment. You need to see a
psychiatrist so that you can be given the proper
medicine to keep your impulses in balance and control
them. If you agree to see someone, Jane and I will pay
for your therapy until you can afford it."
"But that won't solve my money problem or keep me from
bankruptcy," said Tiffany with a hysterical laugh.
"What good is a psychiatrist going to be if I lose my
car, my apartment, my clothes, my friends..." Her
voice trailed off.
"Once again, we are not a charity. We are a business.
We are trying to help you, but we can't do
everything."
"I can't help it," said Tiffany. "I'm more afraid of
losing everything than degrading myself. But now I
realize that I just need to find the right people who
will pay me $20,000 to do whatever they want. If you
won't help me, I'll look online." She gave a shrieking
laugh and said, "I'm sure somebody will pay to see
this body destroyed."
Smith looked over at Smidge, and when he did, so did
Tiffany. Smidge's face was dark and disturbed. He
turned back to Tiffany and spoke curtly, "Tiffany, go
into the outer office and close the door. Jane and I
have to talk. Remember, the door to the hall is locked
so you can't leave. We'll be done in a few minutes."
It was more like 10 minutes before the door was opened
and Tiffany was ushered back to her chair. Smith began
speaking. Most of his words seemed spontaneous, but
Tiffany could tell that much of his speech was
rehearsed and had been spoken to other girls sitting
where she was sitting.
"OK, Tiffany," he said. "Here is the deal. Normally,
at this point, you would be offered a session for our
Lovin' Ladies site, which involves another woman. You
would agree to pose in many positions with another of
our beautiful natural women, who would also be doing
this for the first time. This time there would also be
a videographer, and in addition to posing, you would
have lesbian sex in different positions, using fingers
and tongues, but no toys or anything unnatural. There
would be many close-ups and you would be encouraged to
improvise and go further than you can imagine, orally,
vaginally and anally.
"Once you've done that site, you would be ready for
Fresh Flesh, which would be your first intercourse
with a man. It would include mainstream vaginal -- no
anal -- and would start out slowly and tenderly, but
progress to wild, uninhibited sex in several
positions, with you getting thoroughly pounded.
"By the end of the session, you will be enduring more
than participating -- especially since the man will
not be an amateur, but a professional with
professional equipment. Our Fresh Flesh fans enjoy
seeing a first-timer stretched and punished. But the
punishment will be only sexual. We don't allow any
slapping, spanking, spitting or mauling.
"That's where most of our natural girls have had
enough, and we say goodbye to them. But a few come
back and agree to perform for the Backdoor Beginners
site. They work with another professional male and do
everything the Fresh Flesh girls do, except in the
anus. Even the oral is anal oral. Once again things
start slowly but progress pretty far. The girls who do
it sometimes say they feel like their entire insides
have been ripped from their bodies.
"The male is allowed to do anything sexual, but again,
there is no slapping, twisting, spitting or any other
abuse. Remember, Jada, the hysterical girl who could
barely walk when you came to our studio the first
time. She had just finished her session for Backdoor
Beginners.
"That's as far as we go. I know there are other sites
that get into much more perverse sexuality, but Jane
and I don't want to make money that way. And we only
work with girls who understand exactly what they are
in for, are ready to do it and get paid more than the
standard in our business. So Backdoor Beginners is the
most extreme site we work for.
"The problem is that neither Lovin' Ladies, Fresh
Flesh or Backdoor Beginners pays $20,000. If you did
all three, it would total $21,000, but we never do
them closer than two weeks apart, because the girls
need time to recover and decide if they want to go to
the next step. Then it takes two weeks for the payment
to go through accounting each time. So there's no way
you would have the money by the end of the month.
"But Jane and I put our heads together and came up
with something for you, if you agree. We would do all
three sites in the same session. Since you are such a
natural, we know it won't take three two-hour sessions
to get what we want. So the first session, with the
woman, would be an hour, followed by a half-hour
break, then an hour and 15 minutes for Fresh Flesh,
another half-hour break and a final hour and a half
for Backdoor Beginners. Instead of six hours, it would
be four hours and 45 minutes, including the breaks.
We'd start at 6 p.m. and be done at 10:45. And you
would get $21,000.
"But there's more, and this may be why you turn down
our deal. You wouldn't actually receive the $21,000.
You and Jane would sit down and go through all your
finances, and she would pay all your debts. Only if
there's anything left over would you receive any
money. She would also cut up all your credit cards.
"Furthermore, you would agree to work for one year as
our employee. Every weekday, after your regular job,
you would come here and be our receptionist, so that
you would meet the women who respond to our ads and
watch them going through each step. Meanwhile, we
would keep an eye on you. We would pay you only $15 an
hour, but again, you won't get any of it. It would all
be set aside in a bank account, and you'd receive the
lump sum only at the end of the year. To make sure you
show up for work, you would sign your car's pink slip
over to us and we would hold it until the end of the
year.
"Also, you would see that psychiatrist, starting the
day after your big session. Your real self will be
completely repulsed by what you will do at these
sessions, and it will try to punish you even more
harshly than before. The psychiatrist will examine you
to figure out what it will take to keep you from ever
doing another modeling session. You will take that
medication every day in front of Jane, so by the end
of the year, it will be a habit that's so ingrained
that you hopefully will never stop the treatment."
Smith stopped and took a breath. "That's the best we
could come up with, Tiffany," he said. "Take it or
leave it." Then he hurriedly added, "But of course,
you don't have to decide right now. You are free to
leave and think it over. Jane and I really hope you
face up to what you must do without taking our deal
and that we never see you again."
The room was silent as Tiffany seemed to be absorbing
the torrent of words. But the more she thought, the
more she felt that she had no choice. She was too weak
to handle her problems by herself, and she felt
Smith's proposal was her best chance.
"OK," she said quietly. "I agree."
"We need a few days to get all the personnel together
for you," said Smith. "I'll call you when we have the
date."
***
The longest night of Tiffany's life began with a girl
who seemed a lot like her. But as the videographer and
photographer began shooting them, she found out there
were differences. The girl, a blonde with a large
black bush, was not only uninhibited, but eager to
follow the instructions that came from behind the
camera and take them even further. She quickly became
the aggressor and leader of the two, and Tiffany spent
the entire hour submitting to her.
When they were in the 69 position, the girl, who had
taken the top position, responded to Tiffany's tongue
by pushing back and grinding into Tiffany's face,
forcing Tiffany's nose deep into the girl's cheeks and
until it was pushed into her anus. Tiffany tried to
pull back, but the girl kept grinding away and
releasing juices into Tiffany's mouth until she jerked
violently, gave a long moan and then collapsed on her.
Meanwhile, she was lapping away at Tiffany's opening
and pushing two fingers in and out at the same time.
Then suddenly, the fingers were withdrawn, but not the
mouth, and one of the fingers went into Tiffany's
rear. Tiffany squirmed and tried to dislodge the
finger, but it went even deeper while the girl's
tongue went faster, and the photographer and
videographer cheered them on. Then it was Tiffany's
turn to lose control as a wave of pleasure made her
jerk violently and then collapse.
Tiffany was shocked when she was positioned on all
fours and the girl came behind her, pulled apart her
cheeks and began pushing her tongue in and out of her
anus while a finger played with her clitoris, flipping
it back and forth faster and faster until Tiffany had
a second release, this time accompanied by a small
shriek.
And then the girl sat on Tiffany's face, looking down
at her and moving her body to position her anus right
on Tiffany's mouth. Tiffany kept her mouth tightly
shut as the girl pushed her muscles so that the anus
at her mouth opened and closed against her lips. Then
the girl reached down with her right thumb and
forefinger and pinched Tiffany's nose shut.
Tiffany couldn't breathe and in a few seconds she
opened her mouth wide, gasping for air. That's when
the girl rocked against her mouth with her anus, back
and forth, opening and closing it.
"Stick your tongue in," said the girl. Tiffany ignored
the instruction, but it was becoming harder and harder
to breath as the anus covered her mouth longer,
causing her to gasp for air when it rocked back.
Finally, she stuck her tongue out and it entered the
hole. Immediately, the fingers released her nose, so
she could breathe as the rocking grew more intense and
the girl's anus seemed to suck the tongue out of her
mouth, clamping down on it as the girl once more was
overcome with orgasms.
The rest of it, the stroking and the kissing, was not
too bad, and when it was over, the girl gave her a
long, passionate kiss and said, "Thank you for making
this great." Tiffany said nothing. She was thinking
about what was still ahead.
***
There was no warm-up with the man. He was average
height and fit, although not especially muscular. But
one of his muscles was enormous, both in length and
width. Tiffany stared at it in horror as it was
swinging like a pendulum between his thighs.
The man was smooth and efficient and went through his
movements like a dancer familiar with the
choreography, step by step without one word of
prompting from the photographer and videographer. She
was moved and pulled and pushed, always gently, even
when she held back and was reluctant to go to the next
step. There was a smile on the man's face that seemed
to be painted on. It never changed no matter what he
was doing. Only when he was pumping in and out of her
at a fast rate did she hear some heavy breathing. That
was the closest thing to emotion that he showed.
Otherwise, it seemed almost like she was being
manipulated and penetrated by a mechanical clown.
He started by laying her down and lifting her legs
over his shoulders as he put his face between her
thighs. He licked briefly, but stopped as soon as he
saw she was still wet from her previous session with
the girl. He pulled back and up, and her legs went
higher as his shoulders lifted them. Then he took his
tool in one hand and began rubbing it on her vulva.
His tool was soft and flabby when he started, but
quickly began expanding in every direction.
He slowly pushed it into her and began a rhythm back
and forth. Her upper body was on the bed, and her legs
were straight in the air as he pushed all the way in
and pulled all the way out. His tool was pulling and
pushing her body as if she were a child on a
playground swing. As she moved back and forth, her
large breasts began flopping faster and faster. She
felt as if she were no longer in control of her body
and she was just an extension of his machine.
She felt a fullness and when she looked down, she saw
his machine was now massively thick and long, and it
was going deeper and faster at the same time. Now her
breasts could not match his rhythm back and forth and
they jerked wildly in all directions as he picked up
speed.
He leaned forward against her, pushing her legs back
toward her head. It lifted her rear from the bed and
caused her crazy breasts to begin pounding her face as
he went into a frenzy of movement. He was no longer
just pushing into her, but pushing through her, and
his thighs were pounding her cheeks each time he
entered her, causing her whole body to bounce off of
him, hit the bed and bounce back.
He drove into her faster and faster, and even though
she was wet, the thick member was rubbing her too hard
and her rear began getting red from the pounding by
his thighs. Now she was bouncing like a basketball
being dribbled. She felt as though she were being
tortured inside and out and couldn't control the moans
that were coming from her lips.
Finally, he stopped and withdrew, then lowered her
legs onto the couch and lay down behind her. In a
second, his huge member was back into her and he was
moving in and out from the spoon position. Once again,
the speed increased and her insides were being abused
while his thighs were pounding her cheeks, but it
wasn't as bad as the previous position.
He shifted to several other positions in the next
minutes, starting slowly in each and progressing to
the frenzied rhythm that brought forth her moans. At
the very end, he put her in the missionary position,
and as he raised himself on his arms, he spoke for the
first time. "Wrap your legs around me and pull me," he
said. She felt like a wet dishrag, but followed his
instructions and as he pounded into her pelvis, she
pulled her legs each time to make his body collision
with her even more painful.
Just as she was beginning to think this was crazy, and
why was she making it worse for herself, she noticed
for the first time that his breathing wasn't rhythmic
now. He was beginning to gasp intermittently and his
face was no longer a mask but twitching. She began
pulling him in even harder with her legs. In a minute
it was over. He collapsed onto her, crushing her with
his entire weight.
But he quickly got off of her and walked away. His
member was still hard but drooping a little and
shining from the slime all over it. She looked up at
the clock and saw it was barely an hour. She still
owed 15 more minutes to Fresh Flesh. Agnes walked up
to her and said, "Your half-hour break starts now, but
for the last 10 minutes, I'll be giving you two high
enemas to clean you out thoroughly for Backdoor
Beginners."
***
Her final session began with Agnes pushing some kind
of frozen dildo into her anus. It was freezing cold
and long -- Tiffany figured 15 inches -- but not too
wide and as Agnes pushed gently, it glided in quickly
all the way, and her hole closed around it. Inside
her, it felt strange. Agnes explained that it was some
kind of frozen lubricant that was melting within her
and coating her insides.
A minute later, a man walked in who looked similar to
the previous man. He was slightly smaller and more
muscular, with longer arms and a small forehead that
was sort of apelike. His face was different, but his
expression was just as matter of fact, and it didn't
change as he went about his business. His member
looked just as long and thick as the previous man's,
and though Tiffany was trying to act as unaffected as
he was, she couldn't stop herself from shaking for a
few seconds as she thought of what was coming.
The man lifted her legs and placed his member inside
her the normal way. Lubricated by the mingled liquids
from previous session, it slid in easily, and as the
other man had, he pushed back and lifted her rear off
the bed and was soon bouncing her like a basketball
again. As she did, she felt some of the lubricant
leaking from her anus. It must have melted.
In a few minutes, he pulled out and then, using his
hand, he placed his fully hardened member at her rear
entrance. Now he leaned forward again, lifting her
rear in the air once more, and began pressing his body
against hers. He didn't push hard, and at first his
large knob was stopped by her small hole. But the
light pressure didn't let up and soon the tip of his
member slipped inside.
Tiffany felt equally disgusted and uncomfortable as
the long member continued on its journey. It was slow
but relentless, and she could feel every slight
movement as it disturbed her insides. Her mind was
racing again. How had it come to this? What if a
friend saw her on Backdoor Beginners? Was she the most
disgusting person in the world? She couldn't stop the
torrent of horrible thoughts.
It wasn't really a relief when she was distracted from
these thoughts by the man. He was now in all the way
and his stomach was pushed tightly against her thighs.
He lifted up a little and an inch of him pulled out.
It felt even worse than when he was going in. Slowly
he pushed back in and then slowly pulled out a couple
of inches. Again he pushed all the way in. He kept
doing this, going a little further out each time. As
he did so, he increased his pace slightly and breathed
in and out in time to his movements as if his
breathing were a rhythmic drum beat.
His mouth was so close to Tiffany's that she heard
each breath loudly, and from below, she heard
disgusting squishy sounds as the lubricant was pushed
around inside her and some came out. Then she heard
another noise. It sounded something like "Ugh, ugh,
ugh" and it was in the same rhythm as his breathing
and the squishes. Where was it coming from? She
suddenly realized it was her making the grunting
sounds. She tried to clench her teeth and stop the
sounds, but it was no use. Her mouth got tired from
the effort, and soon the horrible grunts began again,
getting higher pitched and faster as he sped up.
Suddenly, there was a loud pop. He had pulled all the
way out and the sudden opening of her hole had made
the sound. But in less than a second his member was
back inside her and going all the way in, then pulling
out with another pop. He continued making this new
sound until it blended with the squishing, his
breathing and her grunting in a horrible harmony.
After a while, he started a variation.
When he quickly pulled out, he didn't go right back.
Instead, he lingered outside for a few seconds before
plunging in. When he did this, he held his breath, and
it was silent except for Tiffany. She was so out of
breath, she was panting like a dog. Every time he
pulled out, he increased the interval. There was a
grunt from Tiffany as he violently wrenched his member
from her hole, then silence except for her rapid
panting, then a groan from her as he plunged in again.
As the intervals with him outside grew longer, Tiffany
felt her anus as she had never felt it before. Every
fiber of her nerves around the opening and inside her
colon seemed to be engaged. Before, she only felt that
it was being stretched into a huge open pit, but now
it seemed to be reacting as the member stayed outside,
and it was even starting to contract. Then his tool
slammed into it again while it was half open, and it
was as if her hole was surprised and couldn't open
fast enough. It got worse.
Instead of a pattern of longer and longer intervals,
he started doing a shuffle. An interval of 10 seconds
would be followed by intervals of 3 seconds, 8
seconds, 15 seconds and two seconds. Her anus and her
entire body were on edge, wondering when the horrible
snake would assault them again. Her grunts and moans
as the tool plunged in were getting higher. She
couldn't take much more of this.
Just as she felt she must scream, he stopped the
torture and began a steady rhythm again. Now he was
pulling all the way out and pushing all the way in
faster and faster and also slamming into her cheeks
with his thighs so the bouncing ball was once more set
into motion, but this time with him in her rear hole.
It became so fast that sometimes she felt herself
slamming against him twice on each of his in-strokes
and out-strokes. Finally, his frenzy of pounding
ended. Tiffany was panting loudly, almost gasping, and
feeling like her insides were mush.
He gently rolled her limp body over on the bed and
then lifted it up with one hand while pushing her
knees and hands under her until she was on all fours.
Then he got behind her and pushed into her rear again.
He did it quickly this time and had no difficulty.
Again he started a rhythm and again the rhythm
increased until he was pounding into her rear with
fury. She felt her breasts beneath moving wildly each
time he slammed into her. She was now narrowing her
brows and pursing her mouth as she grunted in time
with his breathing.
He stopped and got up off his knees behind her until
he was standing on the bed in a squat, with his member
still completely inside her. She looked behind her,
and it seemed like he was towering over her body. He
began moving his member in and out by doing squats.
Because of his position, it was now more of an up and
down motion. As the tempo increased, once again his
thighs began slamming into her buttocks.
This time, though, the bouncing ball became her entire
body. As he slammed down into her, the force went to
her hands and knees and pushed them into the mattress
springs, which pushed back and lifted her completely
up in the air, where she was slammed back down by him
again. Like she was bouncing out of control on a
trampoline, her body was tossed up and down, and her
breasts spun as his tool assaulted her. This time she
couldn't stop herself from screaming, but the sound
just added to his breathing, the squishing and the
sounds of the mattress springs.
At last, he slowed down and stopped, putting his
weight on her. Now he put his arm around her waist and
hugged her tightly. At the same time, he fell back on
the bed, pulling her on top of him. She was now
sitting on his lap facing away from him with his thick
tool deep inside her. He pulled her back until he was
propped up against the headboard. He brought his legs
to a sitting position and then took her feet and
placed them on his thighs.
What now? she thought as he lifted her thighs with his
hands and started moving his pelvis. Her body was in
the air and he was thrusting into her from below. His
pelvis was moving like the piston of a steam engine,
and once again her rear was being pounded and her
breasts were twirling crazily, as she grunted and he
breathed and her hole squished. It hurt worse than
anything he had done before, but it was about to get
worse.
***
He pulled back and up on her thighs quickly and
snapped his thick hose completely out of her. There
was intense pain followed by a few seconds of relief
until he rolled her back onto his pole again and
buried it inside. A new rhythm began, as she was
swinging back and forth onto his member and off of it,
with her hole stretched wide. She was now hoarse from
screaming and had begun sobbing.
She stopped and gasped for air when he finally slowed
down and halted, and for a moment her mind was capable
of thought again. He can't do anything more disgusting
than this, she thought, as he lifted her body off of
him and placed it next to him on the bed. Then he got
up and left her.
In a few minutes, he was back with several oversized
pillows that he piled up in a stack on the rug next to
the bed. Then he lifted her gently from the bed and
sat her on the rug, actually on the pillows piled on
the rug. She was facing the bed, with her legs on
either side of the pillows. He got behind her and
pushed his chest against her back. Then he reached
over her shoulders with his long arms and as he
reached further and further, he was pushing her
breasts down against her thighs.
He finally reached far enough to grab her around the
ankles and slowly pulled her legs into the air. The
pillows beneath her shifted slightly, and her head
dropped back onto the second pillow while the rest of
her still rested on the top pillow. She was now
looking up into his crotch and the huge slimy
appendage sticking straight out from it.
He moved his body forward and pulled her this way and
that on the pillows until her view changed. Now she
was looking directly at his cheeks. Oh no, she
thought, as he began squatting down and his cheeks
parted, showing a sweaty brown opening with lots of
damp hair surrounding it. The hole widened as he
squatted lower and lower, and then it was on top of
her mouth.
She knew what to do from her session with the woman
and began licking up and down his crack and then over
the hole. She felt it push out and stuck her tongue
in, trying to keep from gagging. Now he began lifting
up and down, pushing himself on and off of her tongue.
It was deathly silent, except for his panting, which
increased the longer he continued. For a moment, he
lost control and sat all the way down on her face,
smothering her, but he quickly jumped up and got off
of her.
Now he was maneuvering her body again, pulling her up
by the feet and positioning her with his hands moving
from her ankles to her waist and her thighs and back
again. Finally, he was satisfied.
She looked around. Her body was almost vertical, with
her back pushed up against the bed. Her shoulders were
on the top pillow and her head was just a bit lower,
supported by the second pillow. Her legs were pulled
up and back away from the bed and dangled above her
head. They were trying to fall down behind her, but
they couldn't stretch that far and were loose and
wobbly. With her legs so far back, her body was
forming an arc from her head to her toes.
Looking up now, she saw her own anus above her, only a
foot or so from her face. It was slightly spread,
enough to see the sweat and lubricant embedded into
the hair inside her crack. It looked disgusting. She
saw the man move up to her and insert his thick tool
inside.
She tried to move her eyes away, but her head was
pushed into the pillows and unless she shifted her
eyes all the way in one direction or another, which
she couldn't do for long, the view stayed the same.
She tried to close her eyes, but that focused her more
on the pain of his member pushing in and out of her
faster and faster. Finally, she just gave up and
watched in horror as he went in and out of her anus
right in front of her face.
Once again, there were the squishes, his rhythmic
breathing and her grunts. This time there was no
bouncing, just full penetration followed by full
withdrawal. Now the lubricant that squirted out of her
fell directly on her face. She tried to avoid it, but
couldn't, and gradually her entire face was shiny from
the oily stuff. He continued pushing in and pulling
out as Agnes came over with a damp washcloth and
gently cleaned her face. Now there was less coming
down. He must have pushed all of it out of me, she
thought.
Then she heard the change in his breathing, and her
heart leaped. It was finally coming to an end, all the
pain, all the filth, all the degradation. She tried to
figure out a way to make him finish faster, but in her
position, she couldn't move, so she just waited.
His breathing became more and more irregular and
finally it stopped for a moment completely as he
buried himself in her and stayed there. Then Tiffany
felt something strange and uncomfortable inside her,
but she had no idea what it was. A second later, thick
white, horrible smelling fluid began spurting out of
her anus around his member and falling onto her face.
She closed her mouth but not before she had tasted and
smelled his discharge. It kept on coming out for about
15 seconds, until it was all over her face. Gradually
it slowed to a trickle.
That's when she realized that the man must have had a
huge volume stored up that came out when he climaxed
and overflowed her insides. She realized what the
strange feeling was. It was as if she were getting a
sperm enema.
***
But now it was finished, she thought, as she looked up
and saw the man withdraw his flaccid member. As he
pulled it out, a large amount of the smelly slime
poured out of her anus and fell on her face. Agnes was
back beside her, leaning down and speaking softly into
her ear. "Just another few minutes," she said. "We
need to get everything out."
Then Agnes stood up. Tiffany saw she had a small
rubber ball. But the ball had a long tapered nozzle on
one end. Agnes pushed the nozzle all the way into
Tiffany's greasy hole that had now shrunk almost back
to normal and squeezed the ball hard. Tiffany felt
something pushing into her anus.
"What are you?" began Tiffany, then stopped. As she
opened her mouth to protest, a large amount of the
vile cream covering her face dropped into it, and she
began retching. She finally got control of herself,
and Agnes leaned down again and whispered, "Don't
worry. It's just a bulb syringe full of air. I only
have to do this two more times."
After she had squeezed two more balls full of air into
Tiffany, the room was quiet. Tiffany had recovered
herself and was starting to think some of her terrible
thoughts again when she first felt it, deep inside.
"Oh no!" she shouted as she understood. "No, no, no,
mmph." Another gob of the cream covering her face had
fallen into her open mouth."
As she felt it coming, she tried to squeeze her
buttocks together and control the muscles inside to
hold the air in. She began panting with the effort,
but finally she could hold back no longer.
With a sound like a thunderclap, the air exploded from
her anus, into her face, carrying with it a large wad
of smelly white semen. It was followed by an even
larger eruption and then a series of smaller ones. The
hot white lava was spurting out of her. She had no
control as it poured down on her face. She tried to
keep from opening her mouth, but then she breathed the
stuff up into her nose, where it burned her and
sickened her with the smell and cut off her air.
So she finally opened her mouth, but that didn't help
either. The sperm filled her mouth and then went back
up her nose from the inside. Her eyes were covered
with it and she felt like they were burning. She began
gulping as it poured into her mouth to keep from
choking. And it kept on coming. It seemed as though
the man had filled her body with gallons of his mess,
and now it was all being dumped on her face.
At last it stopped, and her choking and gulping sounds
slowed, replaced by soft sobbing. It was over. After
the cameramen shot her face for another minute, they
moved away, and Agnes gently cleaned the last of the
white stuff off her face, but she still tasted it in
her nostrils and her mouth. She got off the bed and
put her clothes on as Agnes silently handed them to
her.
When she began walking down the hall, the pain inside
her rear was so strong she stopped and tried to figure
out how to move forward without any part of her body
touching any other part. She tried a lurching walk on
her tiptoes with her legs spread wide, but it didn't
help much, and she began sobbing as she made her
painful way out of the studio and got into her car.
She had to sit there for a few minutes to get enough
control of herself to drive home.
***
Tiffany abided by her agreement and began working her
second job the next night while still in pain. She
defiantly didn't take any painkiller for it, because
she wanted to feel the pain she had earned. Earlier
that day, she had her first appointment with the
psychiatrist. Within a few weeks, he felt he had
diagnosed her and started her on a medication. The
results were miraculous. She became a happy person,
and behind her mischievous smile, there was now a
positive, genuine, caring personality.
She soon felt she didn't need the medication anymore,
but each night she went to work at the office and met
new girls responding to the ads. She watched them and
knew she couldn't take a chance, so she religiously
took her medicine for the rest of her life.
Working two jobs, she barely had time to spend money,
and with Midge's direction, she was soon able to pay
her bills every month and even set aside savings. At
the end of the year, she got her pink slip back from
Smith and Smidge, along with a nice check for the
entire year's wages, plus a bonus. They smiled at her
happiness and then got serious. "Tiffany, this is the
last time we're ever going to see you," Smith said.
"You are now the real Tiffany, with a new life. Try to
forget everything about this." They shook her hand,
and she left.
She did see them again, once on the street and once in
a nice restaurant where she was having dinner with her
husband. She pretended not to notice them, and they
did the same. And she couldn't prevent the glamor
models ad from popping up every once in a while and
startling her. It seemed their business was still
going strong.
Because of her personality change, her circle of
friends grew, and by the time she met someone special,
she was known for the way she lived each day as if it
might be her last. Other people talked about it, but
all her friends remarked that Tiffany was the only one
they ever knew who really did it.
She worked hard at enjoying each moment and making
sure everything she did was something that mattered to
her. When bad things happened to her, she never
complained. When good things happened, she was full of
gratitude. When Don asked her to marry him, she didn't
hesitate. When she had two children with him, he and
her friends felt she was happier than ever.
Occasionally, when they asked her about her happiness,
she told them that it might sound morbid to them, but
what worked for her was living each day fully, knowing
that any day might be the last for her.
The last day came after they had been married seven
years. "Please come in here for a second, Tiffany,"
Don said from his office next to the kitchen. She
heard the strange tone in his voice and knew
immediately that this was the end. She said a silent
prayer of thanks for the wonderful years she had
enjoyed with him and the children.
"What is it?" she asked pleasantly as she came in to
find him in front of his computer.
"Bill at the office told me that I had to go to this
website," he said. "I told him I wasn't interested in
that kind of stuff, but he kept pushing me, and today,
he told me that if I didn't at least look there, I
might make a mistake that would affect me for the rest
of my life. That was the strangest thing he ever said
to me, so I decided to look at the site, and this is
what I found."
"Yes," said Tiffany without looking at the screen.
For a moment, each waited for the other to speak. Don
broke the silence.
"Do you have an explanation for this?" he said.
"Yes," she said. "Do you want to hear it?"
More silence. Then Don said, "Do you love me?"
"Yes."
"Do you love the children?"
"Yes."
"How long ago was this?"
"Ten years ago."
"Do you want to forget it?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any questions for me?"
"Yes, do you still love me?"
"Yes."
"Can you forgive me?"
"No, because you did this years before we met, so
there's nothing to forgive. I don't know who you were
then, and I never want to know. Does that work for
you?"
"Yes."
He turned off the computer, stood up and took her in
his arms. She fell against him and began sobbing. He
tried to comfort her, but she didn't stop for more
than 10 minutes. Then he took a box of tissues and
spent a minute drying her face as she choked back her
tears. Then he kissed her.
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any
of the scenarios in this story should seriously
consider seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 78