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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2013.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
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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