Suzanna Briggs fixed her hair. The tight bun she had spent much of the morning styling was coming undone. It had been one of those days. She made her way to her desk, past the endless rows of beige cubicles. Stuck to the wall of her cubicle was a speedily prepared flyer advertising “Amanda’s Going Away Party.” Amanda was the third woman to leave the company since Suzanna had been hired eight months ago. And while that may have raised flags for some women, Suzanna was plenty comfortable in her workplace. Suzanna tossed the flyer into the shredder, having hardly known Amanda, and sat down at her desk and began her work for the day.

Time slowed and the day dragged on. Suzanna gazed at the clock beside her computer monitor. The red LED glared back at her: 11:50 AM. She sighed. It was apparently just the start of one of those days. She had felt unusually tired today. Her morning routine was off and she had abused the snooze button thoroughly.

Rather than fall asleep at her desk, Suzanna made the decision to take a quick break outdoors. If only she could find her ‘emergency’ pack of cigarettes she hid in her office. A-ha! Behind her favorite stuffed monkey on her desk’s return. She grabbed the pack and fished out a most likely stale smoke. Having quit the nasty habit for over a month now, she was proud of her progress and mentally chastised herself for breaking so easily over a little case of exhaustion. She pressed ctrl + alt + delete and locked her computer, grabbed her thin black shawl from the back of her computer chair and made her way towards the elevator.

Suzanna’s black professional heels clicked and clacked throughout the eighth floor that Into-Tech Industries occupied in the office building. She would usually have clacked down the stairs. Her sleepy state forced her to accept the elevator, lest she snooze off and fall down a flight of stairs.

Once on the ground floor, she made her way through the glass entrance doors. She inhaled deeply and tried to revive herself with fresh air instead of smoke. It didn’t work. Off to her right, next to the building, was a small vendor stand. Funny, I haven’t seen that here before, Suzanna puzzled to herself.

She stuck her unlit cigarette behind her ear and walked toward the cart. It looked like any other vendor cart in a major commercial setting. One part ice-cream truck, one part hot dog stand, all parts grungy and disgusting. Suzanna decided to take a look anyway. Maybe she’d find something to boost her energy instead of breaking into her smoking habit. She approached the cart and read the hand written menu, when she was startled by a man’s voice.

“Tired, are ya?” the voice cracked, but Suzanna couldn’t place the source. She looked around for a moment and then spied a portly man with a white t-shirt that didn’t hide his spare tire very well. The shirt advertised a band that Suzanna was sure had broken up over 10 years ago.
“Excuse me?” Suzanna retorted.

“I asked if you was tired.” He stated.

“Umm…I suppose. But that’s really none of your business.” Suzanna replied embarrassed that her condition was so apparent.

“Course it is! It’s the business of any highly trained salesperson, such as me, to know da customers.” He stated confidently as he lugged long, large crates out of the back of the truck and set them on the ground beside his feet.

Suzanna looked over the menu once more and did not find anything, sans “Coffee- Black $1.25,” that would help her condition. The thought of what brown-black sludge she would be served, sent a shiver down her spine and she nixed the idea quickly. Suzanna cursed herself again for forgetting to set the automatic drip timer on her cappuccino machine.

The man piped up, “If you is looking for something to wake yourself up, give ‘dis a whirl.” He chucked a small bottle at Suzanne. In an effort to catch the small canister, she had to jerk her head so fast her cigarette fell to the ground. She didn’t notice.
She inspected the tiny object. It was the size of a liquor store flu-shot, those small sips of alcohol that a patron buys cheaply. They were also prevalent in mini-bars in hotel rooms that Suzanna had stayed in on business trips. The label looked homemade, like someone had used very basic software and stuck label paper in a printer. There were very few technical specifications and even less nutritional specifications. In bright green, block letters it read: ENERGY GULP! There was a paragraph of information on the powerful energy supplied by the little beverage. It was mostly advertisement mumbo-jumbo, nothing of any merit or science.

“Energy Gulp?” Suzanna read out loud.

“You never heard of it?” The man approached her. She smelt suntan lotion, cigarettes and body odor.

“No, should I have?”

The man put on his best salesman show and became very demonstrative. “Well, of course. It’s only the best energy drink in town! Screw those however-many hours energy drinks, this lil puppy got them all beat. Half the size of its competitors with twice as much…punch.” He was very animated. Suzanna thought she had discovered who had bought the software and label paper.

“This is something you make? Personally?”

“Shiiiiiiiit, no. I’m just the only guy the creator trusts to distr…dibur….to sell the stuff.” He boasted.
Suzanna raised an eyebrow. She was just about to put the small object back into the man’s greasy hand when he spoke again.

“First one’s free.” He quipped.

Suzanna looked at it again. Seeing how the man didn’t have 4 or 5 hour energy drinks available, Suzanna shrugged and shoved the tiny capsule into her pant pocket. She gave a mumbled thanks, spun around and headed for the doors.

“One is all it takes most folks, cause it works so good!” The man called out to her as she made her way back into the office building. Suzanna muttered a thank you and began to walk away from the vendor’s stand. The vendor reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone. He had an important call to make.

* * *

The young, fit professional sat waiting for her elevator. It was taking much longer than usual. That’s when Suzanna decided to try her free gift out. She pulled the tiny bottle from her pocket. The cap was the same color green as the writing on the label. She popped it open with her thumb and peered into the white bottle. The substance inside was definitely green. Lemon-lime, at least it’s a flavor I can stand, she mused to herself.

Without much ado, she tipped the bottle back and downed the whole bottle in one swallow.

Suzanna didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t feel a surge of energy run through her. She didn’t feel a jittery bolt of electricity. In fact, she felt nothing. She would have been more pissed off, but she remembered that she wasn’t out any money. And besides, she told herself, those other energy drinks cost so much for so little.

She did, however, convince herself that the stairs were a good idea and when she reached the eighth floor without so much as a pant or wheeze she remembered that she hadn’t smoked. She gave herself a mental high-five and returned to her quiet desk.

She did feel much more energized. It took a little bit over an hour to notice anything, but she hadn’t dozed off at all. The clock read 3:02 PM. She had made a lot of progress in her revisions of her team members’ work. She had made so much progress she thought about rewarding herself.

Without any thought at all, she clicked on her internet browser and typed in the name of her favorite erotic story site. She took a few moments to see if any new Sapphic stories had appeared. She didn’t know if she was a confirmed lesbian yet, she just knew that a man hadn’t provided her with what she needed for a long time. Just when she was about to click on a story entitled something like ‘Wet Works,’ which had the story tags she was definitely into, she paused.
What am I doing? She quickly closed the browser and sat stunned in her chair. Her company tracked internet usage. How could she have been so careless? She quickly tried to remember all the fast and easy ways for the company to know where she had been. She cleared her browser history, deleted cache files, cookies and anything she could get access to. Suzanna realized she was panting now. She tried to calm down. She breathed in slow and deep. She began to rationalize. Surely she couldn’t be the only employee that looked at porn at work. Heck, she figured, I might be the only one looking at text stories instead of hogging bandwidth with videos. She wouldn’t get in trouble, but she dared not go any further.

Unfortunate for Suzanna, she did feel a certain level of heat in between her thighs. She rubbed them together for a few moments and then quickly dashed off to the ladies room to alleviate the building arousal in her loins. After a satisfying climax in the stall of the lavatory for the rest of the day Suzanna was awake; bored, but awake.

* * *

Suzanna slammed her brown bag lunch on her desk. She was late and that always infuriated her. She had a case of drowsiness that she just couldn’t shake. The hair that was usually styled perfectly into a tight bun now lay collected in a loose, wet ponytail. She had allowed herself just enough to shower and dress before racing to beat beltway traffic; the hair dryer never even got plugged in.

As Suzanna poured through the latest figures and specifications, her head bobbed. Her eyelids drooped. She reached toward the monkey on her desk. The stuffed animal stood like a sentry defending the cigarettes from the army of nic-fitting invaders. Suzanna overpowered the stuffed animal guard and took a cig from the pack and returned the pack to its hidden post.

When she hit the outdoors, Suzanna popped the cancer stick into her mouth. Before she could light it, she saw the vendor again. Her mouth dropped open and the cigarette fell out. Of course! Another one of those energy drinks! Suzanne walked fast over to the vendor’s stand and looked around. She didn’t see the man from before.

“Back again?” a familiar male voice spoke up.
Suzanne spun around and saw the same salesman she had met here before. The man looked slightly puzzled.

“Yeah, I have to thank you for the free sample. Do you still have those energy thingies in stock? I could really use another.” she asked.

Without a word the man, hoisted himself into the van through the doors in the back. After a few moments a tiny bottle was tossed out the vending window on the side of the van. Suzanne caught it.

“How much do I owe you for this?” She questioned him as she tried to hold her purse and the bottle in separate hands.

“Ummm…let’s make it 5 dollars.” The man seemed pleased at himself for being such a great salesman. Suzanne thought she was getting a deal. She handed the greasy male a folded bill and made her way back inside, clutching her tiny bottle tight. Meanwhile, the greasy salesman tipped his green visor to the back of his head and scratched his balding noggin. He stared in bewilderment as the young woman entered the building. He had an urgent call to make.

Suzanne didn’t wait for the elevator today. She opened the bottle and tossed it back like a tequila shot her roommate always did back in her college days. She did a quick bout of remorse that she hadn’t had more fun in college.

Determined, focused, she made her way up the flights of stairs to her office. She chastised herself for not locking her workstation before leaving and then poured herself back into her work. The effects took a shorter amount of time to kick in. She remembered that the last time she had sampled the drink; it had been about an hour before she felt the rush of energy. This time the effects where felt in 15 to 20 minutes. She had time to finish her revisions, eat her lunch and even get half way through some of the budget sheets that had been stacking up in her in-box.

Suzanna read the word again. “In-box.” She felt a sudden rush as her blood left everything higher than her nipples and headed south. Her sex slickened with arousal and she let out a little yelp when her hand had strayed to her left breast. I’ve got an in-box for ya. The joke made Suzanna giggle. She didn’t normally giggle, but she wrote it off to the fact that it was a surprisingly funny joke. Suzanna had never been known for a sense of humor. Wit, maybe…but not comedy. She appreciated comedy; she just wasn’t very good at it. Eventually, she could silence the giggle, but it took tweaking an aroused nipple.
Even though she tried to refocus her eyes on the lines of black and red numbers, her brain would not allow it. She pushed a hand deep between her thighs and pressed at her womanly junction. She was really wet.

It was the kind of wet that just diddling her moist button wouldn’t soothe. She needed penetration. At home, her trusty rabbit vibrator would have saved the day. Here at work, she was at a loss for how to overcome the growing need in her pussy. She pressed with her hand and rubbed her legs together, but that seemed to make the situation that much worse, that much more…dire.

Without remembering to lock her computer again, Suzanna dashed like a crazed woman for the bathroom. She nearly knocked over one of her male associates, Mr. Thomas Fisk, in the hallway. He turned and watched Suzanna bolt through the bathroom and made a mental note to talk with his boss about Suzanna’s behavior.
She burst through the door and sat on the toilet. The heat grew inside of her. Her breathing was shallow. Wicked thoughts filled her mind. She freed her hair from the ponytail tie.
Suzanna spread her legs and, without a thought, lifted her sweater up. The striped black cotton sweater bunched just above her breasts. Suzanna had never really been into tit play. Her last two female lovers had seemed to enjoy sucking on her tiny nipples, and because they seemed to enjoy themselves Suzanna let them continue. But here she was, sitting on a toilet, at work, with her sweater pulled up freeing her bra-clad breasts.

The frustrated woman pushed her legs together and tugged down her underwear. She popped her breasts out of the purple bra cups. She looked a sight of womanly lust, one hand playing with her moist lips, the other tugging on a small nipple. Suzanna reclined on the basin and it gave her pause to examine her body.

My nipples are too small. My hips too narrow. The hand between her legs sped up and she alternated rubbing her clit with dipping her fingers into her honey pot. Come to think of it, my boobs aren’t exactly eye popping. Her firm B Cup breasts had never bothered her before, but right now she felt nearly inferior, and that inferiority was fueling this sexual fire.

Her head tossed in arousal as a delicate finger traced patterns on the inside of her sex. Maybe a new hair color? Suzanna thought when her hair fell into her eyes as she thrashed about the toilet seat. That elusive orgasm suddenly approached. The hand between her legs had seemingly made the decision by itself to now stuff four fingers into her hot, needy sex. Fuck this dyke shit! I need some cock! With that thought Suzanna crested the mountain top of her arousal. The orgasm shook like earthquake through her body and the tremors continued long after.

After a few moments of labored breathing, Suzanna collected herself. She pulled up her panties and shoved her breasts back into the bra. She pulled the sweater down taught. Standing, Suzanna noticed that there was a lot of moisture on the toilet seat and rim. She grabbed some toilet paper, matted it up and flushed. Suzanna had never known herself to be a squirter, but she wrote it off to the tremendous orgasm she had just achieved.
She opened the door to the stall and on wobbly legs made her way to the sink. She washed her hands and face. She did a minor pose or two and confirmed her earlier thoughts about her physique. She walked out of the ladies room with her hair down and a huge grin on her face.

Suzanna’s work day did not proceed normally after her long liaison in the bathroom. She couldn’t concentrate at all. After giving up on the budget analysis, she hopped onto the internet to read some stupid mind filling celebrity gossip. Who’s cheating on who? Who’s engaged? Who’s pregnant? Suzanna smiled. It must be a lot of fun to get paid to look good, date good looking people and ultimately have good looking babies. She sighed audibly and decided that she wasn’t doing any good by being at the office. She shut down her workstation and left for home.

* * *

Suzanna was late the next morning, but this time it didn’t really seem to bother her. She had spent the necessary time to brush and style her new red hair into perfect tresses. On her way home she had picked up some hair dye. The color was labeled “Cherry Poppin’ ” and that had caused her to break out into a fit of giggles, much like her earlier encounter with the ‘in-box.’

She had sat in the tub relaxing as the new color set. Her hands constantly moving, restless to the core. First her nipple begged for attention, than her juicy clit. She just couldn’t seem to make her whole body satisfied. She had achieved two low level orgasms just relaxing in the tub, waiting on her hair.

After washing out the dye (a process that was made much longer by the feeling of hot water rushing across her breasts) she sat on her toilet and grabbed her moisturizer. Before applying any of cream, Suzanna had to do a double take. Her skin was immaculate. All the blemishes and unevenness that she had dealt with for over ten years seemed to have disappeared. She put the lotion back and decided she didn’t need it. And when was it that I remembered to shave?

As Suzanna sat in her office chair, twirling a lock of red hair, she felt her eye lids droop. She still hadn’t got a good night sleep. She had went to bed early after nearly tiring herself out with all the orgasms she had. Her dreams were erotic and they caused her to thrash about the bed. She kicked comforters and sheets to the floor and rode pillows like imaginary, endowed strangers. There was so much cock, cum and fun that Suzanna was always irritated when she woke before seeing how her imaginary orgies finished.

When she woke to chirping of the seasonal birds outside her apartment window, she knew she was already late. She was made later by the fact that instead of being able to throw on just anything and hit the door, none of Suzanna’s wardrobe seemed to fit right. Her bra seemed tight, but she delighted in the effect of her boobs reaching high over their demi-cup confinements. It gave her cleavage, enough that the boys would notice. She had grabbed her lowest necked shirt and put it on, the effect was awesome. Her pants also had felt tighter than usual. She had a particular hard time pulling it over her rear end.
Somehow without the aid of pliers, she stuffed her butt into the jeans and put on a pair of heels.

She combed, blow dried and styled her hair, all the while admiring the new person she saw in the mirror. At last, she looked…sexy…enough to go to work.

Suzanna had managed to stay awake at her desk by opening up multiple web browsers. One had a catalogue of pink, red and black shoes, all heels of course. Another had clips of pornography from a free hosting site that she didn’t know how she had known the url. Her fascination today was mainly girls swapping enormous cumshots between their bee-stung lips and letting the spermy spend drip onto gigantic tits.

Strangely enough, the third browser window was a small local boutique’s website. The boutique sold maternal wear exclusively.
Suzanna tried to keep her eyes jumping from one window to the next, but eventually it just made her tired. Just as her head was about to smack into the keyboard in front of her, she remembered her savior. The energy drink stuff from the guy downstairs!

The absent minded middle-manager forgot to close her computer down as she sped off for the elevator. She left all three non-work related windows on her screen, large enough that her boss, Mr. James Stevenson, noticed them as he walked by.

Suzanna bolted through those familiar glass doors like a panicked person escaping a fire. She stole glances in all directions and finally spied her favorite vendor. She ran off towards his van, nearly breaking both of her shoe’s heels in the process. She arrived in front of the window, stopped, put her hands on her thighs, doubled over and breathed hard, long runner’s breaths. “Gimme….one….those…energy drinks,” she said between gasps for air.

The overly suntanned man peeked out the window. When he spotted Suzanna, he was so shocked that he dropped to the floor under the window. This never happened before. He peered just over the sliding window’s ledge. The man saw a woman, twitching in place like she was in line for a stall in a restroom. Her hair was a bright red, much different than the dishwater brown it had been yesterday. Her breasts looked a slight bit bigger.

The nipples were definitely more pronounced. The salesman mustered up his courage and walked out the back doors of the van. He met her with one of the tiny drinks in his hand.

“It’ll be $20 this time.” He snorted. It was mostly false bravado, inside the man was terrified at what he would have to tell the drink’s creator.

“Sure…sure. No problem.” Suzanna tried to wedge her fingers into the butt pocket of her jeans. Her posterior would not make enough room for her to get her fingers into the pocket and fish out the bill. She rotated to the man, “Maybe, you could get it out for me?”

The overweight male stared at Suzanna’s pert butt. It was definitely much better looking than the first day he laid eyes on it. It was fuller, rounder; it stood taller. He held out a shaking hand and slowly approached her ass. When his calloused hands made contact with her jeans, Suzanna cooed audibly. The man almost took his hand back in fear. Instead he quick motion and shoved two of his round fingers into the pocket.

With the new stimulation of his fingers rubbing against her rear, Suzanna juiced between her thighs instantly. She fought hard to keep her knees from buckling from the erotic thrill that coursed through her spine.

“Can I g…g…go now?” Suzanna pleaded with the man.

“Um, sure thang, Miss,” the man replied.

Suzanna made a beeline to the glass doors and the salesman reached quickly for his cell phone. The creator would need to be informed.

* * *

Once inside the confines of the building, Suzanna tilted her head back and poured the delicious drink down her throat. It didn’t spend enough time on her tongue for her to gauge the taste. She was just glad she wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon.

She bounded up the stairs quickly, giggling to herself the whole way up. She was just about to make it to her desk when Mr. Stevenson stopped her. “Ms. Briggs, how could you think that what you are wearing is appropriate office attire?”

The blonde looked down at herself. She hadn’t noticed but since her consumption of the little bottle of goodness, her breasts had made a break for daylight. They hung low on her chest, two tremendous globes of flesh, spherical and delicious. Her bra had given up sometime around the third flight of stairs. Suzanna also noticed that she was feeling a slight gust of cold air on her hot pussy. Upon inspection, she discovered that her jeans had torn under the strain of running up the stairs and the sheer magnitude of her swollen ass. The seams were splitting and her sex was feeling drafty. Unfortunately for Suzanna it wasn’t enough of a breeze to quell the fire burning inside her.

“Umm, like, I’m sorry that my boobs…I mean…my shirt.” She said surprised. Was my voice always that high?

“Well, I would send you home to change, Ms. Briggs. But I’m afraid of what you might choose to wear instead. Mr. Fisk informed me that your behavior at the office has become…irratic.” Mr. Stevenson stated while calmly removing his glasses.

What a hunk! thought Suzanna. Fisk isn’t too bad himself. Great body. She decided to make her move on Mr. Stevenson. The craving for cock in her needy pussy was getting too much for her to endure. She flirted with him, grabbing his tie and batting it playfully against his chest. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stevenson. And please call me Summer, Suzanna Briggs is something for my business card.”

“Ok, Summer. I’m not sure a simple apology is going to do it. Not in this situation anyway.”

“But, I promise…I promise to make it up to you…and Mr. Fisk.” Summer put on quite a display. Batting her growing eyelashes and joining her hands together. Her breasts swelled, pushed together and leapt out at him. “Oh, my…look what happened Mr. Stevenson.” She flirted back to him. She could tell he liked this attention; he was getting hard. Mr. Stevenson watched her breast swell in front of his eyes. He wasn’t sure if Suzanna, now Summer, noticed, but he was pretty sure that she didn’t care.

“Those are quite nice, Summer. Perhaps we should take this into my office.” He gestured to the room in the corner with the big black couch.

“Totally.” Summer sauntered down the way toward his office. Each sway of her hip destroyed more of the jeans she was wearing. She felt cold, but she knew she was about to get things heated up.
Mr. Fisk stood a few feet away watching Stevenson and the growing nakedness of ‘Summer.’ Stevenson gave Mr. Fisk a non-verbal signal to follow him into the office.

* * *

“Oh, yes. Fuck that pussy,” Summer screamed from the corner office.

Mr. Stevenson continued pounding her from behind. He pushed those massive melons into the couch until they came back up under her chin. She loved it.

Fisk, who was recuperating in the chair next to the couch, had jerked himself back to full attention. He stepped up to summer, his erection bobbing. “Wanna suck it again, Summer, babe?”

“Sure thing,” Summer said arching her head up to get in line with his crotch. She swallowed his manhood deep. Saliva drenched him, obscene sucking noises echoed in the room. She pulled her head off of his prick, “but you guys gotta promise to cum in my hot cunt this time. No more tricks with all this cumming down my throat. Not that I mind, it tastes…oh…good and all, but…”

“Of course, Summer.” Fisk interrupted and directed the slut’s mouth to his cock.

“Will do, Summer!” Mr. Stevenson shouted as he grunted against her needy sex, his balls slapping against her. Her juices traveling down the insides of her thighs.

The determined slut blew Fisk like a seasoned professional. After a few intense deep-throats, she popped him out. “You close, Mr. Fisk?”

The man with closed eyes and his cock in the hand of the perfect bimbo slut could only nod.

“Goodies!” She looked over her shoulder at the hunk pounding her from behind, “Now cum, Mr. Stevenson. I need a big belly! Otherwise all those dang dresses I bought will be for nothing!”

After giving her perfectly bubbly rear a loud smack, the man who was assaulting her pussy let his torrent of jism loose inside her. He collapsed on top of her.

“Mr. Stevenson!” Summer pouted, “You’ve got to get up so Mr. Fisk can shoot his inside me too!”
The manager slowly rolled off of her back. His cock dislodging with an audible suction sound. Fisk did not miss his opportunity. He stepped up behind her, grabbed Summer by her ankles and tossed her onto her back. The thrill of spinning around on his dick caused a mini-orgasm to shake through her.

“That’s it Mr. Fisk. Shoot your stuff. Don’t you want to see my belly get big? And these tits,” she mauled her heavy boobflesh in her hands, “they’ll grow some more, and the milk.” Fisk could only respond with a whimpered cry. “Come on, Fisky-baby, knock up your slut, knock her up good.” She pursed her lips and kissed.

Fisk tried his best. Her excited utterances and pleas for pregnancy cause his balls to tighten and then shoot a healthy wad of potent baby batter inside her already full tunnel.

“Oh goodie!” Summer exclaimed. “I won’t even know whose it is! And no matter when it’s born, it’ll be a Summer Baby!”

Fisk fell weak kneed on top of Summer’s bountiful chest.

From outside the windows to Mr. Stevenson’s office the vendor and the creator stared on.

The vendor man had his baseball cap high on his head as he scratched his scalp. “I just don’t get it. Ain’t right. Ain’t usual.”

In a cold voice, a voice of that exuded an eerie calm, the creator replied, “Ours is not to question, Anthony.”

“Still, three! Nobody need no more than one before!” Anthony replied.

The creator waved his hand out to gesture at the three sweaty, sexual being in the office, “I don’t think Mr. Stevenson or Mr. Fisk will be complaining about the cost of our services.”

“I reckon I agree.” Anthony puzzled a moment, then spoke, “But I gots to say, I love her new name.” He watched as the bimbo put her hand over her sex in an attempt to keep all that was inside her from leaking out. “Ain’t no self respecting bimbo goes by Suzanna.”

“Hmmm…” The creator pondered aloud, “Maybe the reason it took three of my little trinkets to fully change her lies just there. In her name.”

Anthony looked stumped, “I’m pretty sure I don’t follow ya.”

“Oh come on, Anthony, you mean to tell me you’ve never heard that old saying, ONE SWALLOW DOES NOT A SUMMER MAKE.”

Anthony just shook his head.
The creator sighed and huffed his shoulders. He mumbled, “The culture of some people.”

(M+f/cheerleader/slut/bimbo/anal/ws/mild scat)

by H. Grant

her mouth as she listened half heartedly to the teacher pouring over some
stupid 16th century poet. She hated this class. For one thing, it was
college prep. This meant more homework and studying than she was used to.
Her mother and step father had pushed her into taking a harder level course
in the hopes of giving her some college aspirations. It was her junior
year in high school, and this meant doing the preliminary search for the
ideal college she would eventually attend.

student who hated doing english, math, history, or science. Her main
aspirations lay away from brainy work and student related activity.
Instead, her main interests lay in cheerleading and doing drugs – the
latter of which she had somehow managed to keep hidden from her family and
teachers. Sandy was extremely popular among the boys for obvious reasons.
She had natural platinum blonde hair that hung halfway down her shoulders.
She also had a tremendous set of boobs. They were size “C” and
borderlining on a “D” – the same as her school grades. Most importantly,
she was cheerful, giggly, highly impressionable and easily amuzed and
distracted.

for in young girls attending high school. Frank was an underground
pornographer who was interested in young girls just like Sandy. The films
he made of girls such as these were in high demand from his hidden network
of business clients. There were two reasons for this. The first was
obvious – the age of the girls. Sixteen year olds were prime targets for
men with these wicked imaginations that craved these movies. The second
was less obvious – but no less important. Frank had tackled a new and
budding niche in the underground porn world – men who craved cheerful
“light headed” girls. Girls who were easily manipulated on camera and
exposed for their mental limitations. Frank had a hard-on for these types
of girls as well, so it was no surprise that he enjoyed his work. He made
a lot of money on these movies and he used the funds to buy better – more
sophisticated filming equipment for his lavish studio. It was a place in
his home mansion which he heavily disguised as a “Fashion Model Seach”
studio. Frank had many business clients, some of which liked to sit in on
the casting calls and the preliminary filming of such young starlets.

field many times while the cheerleading squad ran through their daily
exercises. He had spent many afternoons watching as the lovely blonde cunt
jumped, bounced, pranced, and did her splits. He loved watching her bright
pleated skirt rise to expose her girlish, feminine cotton bloomers
underneath. There were other girls on the squad that Frank had his eye on
as well. But after doing his homework on Sandy, he had found that she was
dumbest of the bunch. However, in order to get aquainted with her, he
needed an “in.” And it was Sandy’s drug addiction that provided such an
ample opportunity.

* * * *

miles away in the poorer section of town. She smiled to herself as she
thought about all the boys whistling at her from afar on the practice
field. She enjoyed being popular and getting lots of attention. In the
midst of her joy, she had a craving for a “rock” and had little money to
buy it. She had begged her mother to give her some extra “lunch money” for
the week but her mom couldn’t afford to give her anymore. So there she
was. Stuck walking home without any hope of getting a hit for the day.

girls locker room and changed from her cheerleading uniform back into her
school outfit – a tight pair of jeans that showed off her cute little ass
along with a tight clinging t-shirt with the logo “Princess” on it that
accentuated her massive boobs. They bounced slightly and jiggled when she
walked despite her bra. Sandy sighed dreamily and stared up at the pink
and orange sky as the sun was setting. If only she had more money.

limited thoughts. Sandy turned and saw the shiny red SUV just behind her.
The automatic window slid down and a portly balding man popped his head
out.

“Need a lift sweetie?” he asked politely.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” she replied. “Why would I want a lift from
you? I don’t even know who you are.”

“My name’s Mr. Trent. I’m a fashion model scout.” He replied -
deciding to play the “fashion model” card early.

scout. Probably from one of those cool magazines she always leafed through
in hopes of stardom.

“Really? You’re looking for fashion models?” she asked naively with a
slight nervous giggle.

“Sure am.” Frank replied. “C’mon hop in. I’ll tell you about it on the
way to your house.”

“I…I live in a trailer home sir.” Sandy blushed slightly feeling a bit
ashamed.

“Ah that’s no big deal.” replied Frank. “Fashion stars could come from
anywhere – maybe you’d be interested in a tryout.”

to give her a shot at a modeling gig. Something she had dreamed about
since she was eleven. Today was her lucky day!

“C’mon hop in. I promise I won’t bite.” said Frank as he looked around
making sure no one was looking or passing by. The street was deserted save
for a few other detention students that paid them no mind walking home in
the distance.

“OK.” said Sandy giggling nervously.

could tell by the SUV that this guy was rich and powerful. A man who made
important decisions and made things happen in the fashion industry. She
walked around to the passenger side as the lock clicked open and hopped in
- placing her school bag on the floor between her lower legs.

“What’s your name little lady?” Asked Frank pretending not to know.

“Sandy.” she giggled nervously.

“My name’s Frank. But I prefer to be referred to as Mr. Trent by
youngsters such as yourself.”

“Sure Mr. Trent.” replied young Sandy knowing full well the importance
of respecting a man in such a powerful and influencial position in the
fashion industry.

“So Sandy. If you don’t mind me saying so, it would appear you’re from
the poor side of town.” said Frank tactfully.

insecurities before building them up on false cushions of praise.

“Yeah. I guess so.” Sandy looked down dejectedly.

hair and perky tits. He noted the “Princess” logo on her shirt. The kind
of logo that most cheap young girls wore in an attempt to feel good about
themselves. Most white trash girls wore cheap jewelry and clothing like
this. It was their only sense of self worth – fake as it was. But Frank
wasn’t interested in enriching the lives of these types of girls. He only
sought to exploit them. And girls like the giggly tart next to him were
the easiest to seduce.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I knew a girl from an inner city slum that made
it all the way to the top. In fact, she was a runner up for a Playboy
magazine shoot three years ago.”

“Really?” asked Sandy – a dim witted finger pearcing her slutty -
liptstick coated mouth. “Isn’t that like….a nudey magazine or
somethin’?”

“It sure is dear. But it’s those types of models that make the most
amount of money. The girl that I’m telling you about, she made $300.00 a
day.”

bucks a day! She had never seen that kind of money in her entire sixteen
year existence. Her mind drifted slightly to all the drugs she could buy
with that kind of cash.

“Was she pretty?” asked Sandy tentatively fearing that she might not
make the same grade as the girl Mr. Trent was describing.

“She sure was darlin’.” replied Frank. “You wanna know something? You
kind of remind me of her.”

“Really?” gasped the Sandy as her heart gave a slight flutter.

“Yeah. She looked kinda like you….blonde, sweet, attractive
and…cooperative.”

would see it as part of the business or an invitation for danger. Within a
few moments, it became clear to Frank that there was no danger of losing
Sandy at all. She was a dumb as they came.

“Oh I think I’m all those things Mr. Trent. I think I could make a
great model.” replied Sandy smiling cheerfully at him – a slight giggle
escaping her slutty pink lips.

“You really think so?” asked Frank.

“Sure. You think you could give me a try?” asked the brainless tart
excitedly.

“Well….I don’t know Sandy.” Replied Frank as he turned a corner at her
instruction. “It takes a lot to become a successful model.”

“Like what?” asked Sandy inquisitively.

“Well for starters, you have to be open minded, and willing to try
different things.” Replied the middle aged man. “Of course, having blonde
hair is a good start.”

“You really think so?” asked Sandy as she twirled her hair a little to
Frank’s perverted delight.

“Sure.” replied Frank. “It takes a lot of talent to be a ‘natural’ in
the business. I think you’re off to a good start Sandy. You’re very
polite and seem quite motivated. Here’s my card. Why don’t you give me a
call? I’m available most afternoon’s and evenings.”

“Wow! Thanks Mr. Trent.” replied Sandy excitedly as she exited the
vehicle. “Thanks for the lift.”

“No problem sweetie. I hope to hear from you soon.”

“OK.” replied Sandy – her heart pounding with a sudden surge of nervous
excitement.

distance. What a break! This man was going to be her ticket out of this
trailer park dump. She couldn’t wait to tell her friends at school the
next day.

* * * *

call. It was only a matter of hours – or even minutes. He sat on the posh
leather sofa in his basement office. The room was quite large and well
lit. It had a simple desk with a black leather “boss’s chair” with fake
plaques and credentials framed on the wall behind it – all designed to add
a genuine look to his fake modeling business and trick stupid young cunts
like Sandy. There was camera equipent off to the side next to a small
table that carried various magazines – some of which were softcore porn
while other contained pictures of scantly clad girls in bathing suits and
bikini’s.

“Hello this is ‘Fashion Search’ how can I help you?” Frank stated
sounding professional as ever.

“(giggle) Hi…it’s Sandy! Remember me?”

“How could I forget.” said Frank playing toward her self esteem.

“I was wonderin’ if you were still interested in seeing me.” she blurted
out nervously.

“Of course I am dear. Every girl deserves at least a chance.” He
replied. “Are you free this evening?”

“(giggle) Oh yes I am Mr. Trent. Whatever time you wanna see
me…(giggle).

“OK sweetheart. Well it’s 6:30 now. How about around 8:00 PM you meet
me by the practive field over at your school.”

“Sure!” replied the dumb blonde excitedly. Should I bring anything?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact you can.” Replied Frank – his cock twitching
in his pants. “How about wearing your cheerleading uniform. I’d like to
see how good you are with various outfits and poses. There’s a big market
for cheerleading models among other types.”

“OK.” replied Sandy excitedly. “I’m real good at cheerleading.”

“I’ll bet you are sweetie. And I’m sure you’re anxious to show me how
motivated you are to become a promising young model.”

“I sure am Mr. Trent. I promise I’ll do my best. I wanna make a great
first impression.”

“I’m sure you will darlin.’ Perhaps if you wore some eye shadow and red
lipstick. That would certainly get you off to a good start.”

“Sure thing Mr. Trent. I got plenty of that.”

“OK sweetheart. I’ll see you at eight.” replied Frank breathing
heavily. “Don’t be late. Models usually are punctual.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Trent. What do you mean by ‘punctual’?”

“Don’t worry Sandy. Just be on time OK?

“Sure thing Mr. Trent. I’m so excited!” replied the young cunt.

“I’ll bet you are. We’ll see how everything goes.”

night for him. He spent the next hour setting up the various camera
equipment throughout his posh basement studio. Then he put on his
expensive suit and tie – giving the appearence of a powerful business
executive (which in fact he was given the amount of money he raked in from
his underground videos). At 7:30 PM, he got in his SUV and sped off toward
the outer suburb where Sandy’s high school was. His cock never lowered
itself for an instant as he envisoned the platimum blonde tart giggling and
being tricked and seduced into doing all sorts of poses. He knew he would
still have to take things slow with her though. As dumb as she was, he
still had to come off as being a professional photographer and business
man. Initially the first few shoots would center around various outfits -
from the old fashioned (extremely feminine) Victorian look, to swim suits
and extremely short shorts. Other, more trashy and revealing outfits would
follow with the emphasis centering on the most “important” aspects of a
young lady – her boobs, her ass, and her cunt. Frank knew it would be a
good idea to start Sandy off in her familiar element – cheerleading. It
was something she felt quite natural and comfortable doing and he might ask
her to do a few provactive things early on in that attire – if for no other
reason than to test her willingness and her cooperation. There would be no
need for intelligent conversation, and the brief interview process would
make that clear to young Sandy – yet another test to see if she would be
willing to play to the part of herself that was quite obvious to begin
with.

As Frank turned the corner toward the practive field, he saw the most
gorgious site underneath the bright street lamp. There stood Sandy in her
cheerleading uniform with the bullhorn emplazened on the front. Her eyes
and lips were done up heavily in makeup giving her the look of a common
blonde tramp. Her little anklets and knee high socks turning her into any
man’s wet dream. Frank was captivated by the site of her as he pulled up
next to the curb. He swallowed hard and struggled to regain his solid
composure as the young girl skipped cheerfully around to the passanger side
and hopped in.

“Hi Sandy. My…you certainly look marvelous.”

“Thanks Mr. Trent.” smiled Sandy batting her precious makeup caked blue
eyes at him.

“Did you inform your parents about this?” Asked Frank – suddenly aware
that he had forgotten to ask her not to.

“Nope.” replied the young tart. “I never tell my mom where I’m going.
And my stupid step dad is an asshole. He just sits around and drinks all
the time.”

*Perfect* Frank thought to himself. Sandy definately came from the
“right kind” of backround that was the necessary prerequisite to
facilitating the start of a sleazy career in the porn business.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking Sandy. But do you like drugs? I
wouldn’t mind if you did. Lots of models take drugs to ease their
nervousness and tension. You wouldn’t lose your opportunity with me if you
admitted that you were.”

“Really?” asked Sandy nervously. “I wouldn’t?”

“Nope. Not at all darlin’. What are you on…dope?”

“Yeah…kinda…” Sandy replied hesitantly.

letting her go. In the next few moments, she was quite suprised with his
response.

“That’s not a problem sweetie. In fact I know just how hard it must be
for you – having very little money and all to support your habit.”

“Yeah….I…I guess so Mr. Trent.”

“You must be craving some right now.” Stated Frank – pushing the
envelope of her cooperation that would later be coaxed by her dependancy.

“Yeah…kinda.” she replied weakly.

“Well sweetheart, you’ll be please to know that I might be able to help
you out with that.”

“Really Mr. Trent?” asked Sandy in a suprised tone.

“Well let’s just say it all depends on how ‘open minded’ you are about
doing what you are told.” Replied Frank. “Who knows, you could turn out to
be a successful model and make some easy money tonight – of you’re lucky
that is.”

“Wow Mr. Trent! (giggle) You’re the best. I promise I won’t tell
anyone.”

“I’m counting on it sweetie. I’m definately counting on it.”

of a very enjoyable evening for Frank. The “product” being the giggling
blonde object next to him in the passenger seat – willing to do whatever it
took to become a future star in the business, and more than willing to make
some easy “after school” drug money.

* * * *

studio office. Her cheerleading uniform was freshly cleaned and sparkling
for her first “audition.”

“Have seat.” Said Frank motioning to the wooden oak chair across from
his desk.

expensive surroundings before. The whole high class society routine seemed
so sureal to her. Never before had she imagined being in such posh
surroundings. She couldn’t stop giggling nervously.

“You like to giggle don’t you Sandy.” Said Frank matter of factly.

“(giggle) Oh I’m…I’m sorry Mr. Trent. I giggle a lot.” replied the
dumb little tart smiling up at him with her makeup laden eyes.

“That’s quite alright Sandy. In fact this might surprise you, but
models that giggle are much more appealing than models who are brainy and
intelligent. I don’t mean to insult you, but I think you and I both know
that you’re not….well…not very bright.”

“Fortunately for you Sandy, modeling does not require a smart girl at
all. Men enjoy models for their other…shall we say…assets. So I think
there is plenty of hope for you.”

“Really Mr. Trent?” Please don’t tell anybody that I’m not that smart.
I wouldn’t want people in your business to know.”

“Quite the contrary Sandy. The less intelligent you are, the better off
you are in this businiess. Stated Frank more openly. “You see, my clients
don’t look for intelligence in my models, they look for a bright smile,
cheerfulness, and a willingness to cooperate and do whatever it takes to be
more attractive. You do want to be more attractive than you’ve ever been
in your life don’t you darling?”

“Oh yes Mr. Trent. I really do.” replied Sandy. “What kinds of models
do your clients like?”

“Well Sandy, stand up and I’ll show you.” Replied Frank getting hornier
than ever. “I’m going to run you through some simple basic paces at first.
The only thing that you must remember is cooperation and obedience. Those
are the keys to being a success as a model. And, of course, being the
perfect “blonde” doesn’t hurt either. I think you know by now what I mean
by that don’t you Sandy?”

this man really wanted from her. In a way she felt kind of filthy. But
the promise of money and her need for dope quickly erased her funny
feelings. She didn’t like being “a stupid kind of girl,” but it became
quickly apparent to her that unlike other fashion magazines, the “clients”
he referred to actually LIKED “that kind of girl.” She felt weird at first
about the whole thing, but she reasoned that all models went through this
type of nervousness and that it was perfectly natural for girls to be
celebrated and admired for their bodies instead of their minds.

“OK Sandy. It’s time for you to prove how much you want to be a model.”
Said Frank breaking the young blonde’s train of limited thought. “Stand up
please.”

accomodating as possible for this important man. She could tell by her
vast surroundings that he had lots of money. His mansion was huge and
filled with lots of expensive stuff.

“Relax Sandy.” Said Frank calmly. “Why don’t you spread out over there
and show me some of your cheerleading paces that you’ve been practicing
after school.”

she was. She moved to the center of the room and turned to face him.
Frank withdrew a small digital camera from his desk and made his way to the
outer part of the large basement where she stood.

“Go ahead Sandy. Don’t mind me. I’m just going to take a few
preliminary pictures of you while you’re at it. It will be a good start to
your modeling portfolio.” He lied.

tentatively started her paces.

straight “T” Then brought them in one at a time quickly while keeping her
feet planted together before jumping into the air and reciting a verbal
cheer. Frank watched and took picture after picture as the young blonde
went through her various dips, twists, and turns. He watched intently as
she stood with her legs stretched wide apart and bent over – grabbing her
ankles with each of her hands. Her pleated skirt rose up revealing a
precious pair of pink girlish / feminine cotton bloomers. They fit snuggly
around her cute little bottom. To Frank’s disappointment, as soon as she
had done this pose she had risen back up nearly as quickly as she had
lowered hereself. Jumping, twisting, prancing, and bouncing about showing
off her youthful 16 year old body. Her snowy white thighs and cotton candy
cheeks had sex appeal written all over them. After about five minutes, she
slowed to a stop feeling a bit winded. But only a tad.

“Well Mr. Trent. What do ya think?” she asked breathing deeply.

“Marvelous Sandy. You’re definately a natural.” Replied Frank in a kind
tone of voice.

“You really think so?”

“Sure. I think you’re off to a good start sweetie. Now I want to
single out some of the poses you did that I think would look good in a
magazine and maybe add a few helpful hints and expand on them a little.”

“OK Mr. Trent.” replied the cheery blonde regaining her boucy and
bubbly enthuseasum.

“One of the things I want to impress upon you as a young lady is the
need for respect of authority. To illustrate that you understand this, I
want you to refer to me as “Mister.” from now on. I hope you understand.
It’s all part of the modeling business.”

“Of course.” replied Sandy. “I understand.”

“Now Sandy, I want you to stand up straight with your feet together and
try to touch your elbows to your back….that’s a good girl.”

position. The emblazed bullhorn shined brightly in the basement light as
she pressed her elbows backward as far as she could behind her. Slowly,
her massive breasts began to unfold out in front of her – pressing against
the emblazend cheerleading sweater. Her feminely garment began to expand
like a budding flower and push outward for his viewing pleasure.

“Very nice. Hold that pose Sandy.” *CLICK……CLICK
CLICK…..CLICK….*

position. She wondered if she was doing a good job. She wanted so much
for Mr. Trent to like her and ask her back for another audition.

“Now Sandy. Part of being a successful model is being able to show off
your womanly assets in an ‘appealing’ manner. Why don’t you start by
keeping your elbows locked behind you and leaning forward a little.
Terrific! Let me get a few shots of this…”

view of her bra or cleavage underneath. Frank was patient however. He was
determined to coax her slowly.

“Now you can unlock your arms and turn around Sandy. Very nice. Spread
your legs into a wide “V” again and bend forward as far as you can. Part
of being an attractive model is sex appeal. And there’s hardly anything
more appealing than giving your audience a bit of a ‘panty tease.’ I’m sure
you would agree…”

“Yes Mister.” replied Sandy as she turned around obediantely and spread
her thighs and knees as far apart as she could.

Then she leaned forward and grabbed her ankles with each of her hands -
exposing pink cotton bloomer again – this time for a much longer interval
allowing Frank a nice long at her youthful teenage thighs and the contours
of her ass cheeks beneath the skimpy girlish material.

“Very nice indeed.” Said Frank as stepped away to one of his tripod
video cameras and began to get it ready.

“Now Sandy. Why don’t you be a good girl and put on this Victorian
outfit. The corset in not very tight, so you don’t have to worry about
getting cramps. I have three different sizes over there in the closet.
There is a changing room in the back. Try them all on, but I think the
white one will fit your slender frame the best.”

She’d seen subtle versions of it in bridal magazines. When she finished
putting it on, she looked like an hour glass. The corset was kind of tight
despite what Mr. Trent had said. The long shiny latex boots were adorned
with 8 inch high heels which made it extremely uncomforable for her to
walk. Even more uncomfortable was the fact the the corset was low cut and
revealed a good portion of fleshy, thick, teenage cleavage. It rose up in
the middle just enough to cover her girlie pink arolas and pouting nipples.
The lower skirt was pure white (almost like a wedding dress) and was very
wide in circumferance giving her a very feminine “Cinderella” look.

teenage beauty. She looked so young, vibrant, and perfectly feminine and
submissive. Her latex heels gleemed in the bright studio lights and her
white skirt sparkled. She would have looked like a classy victorian woman
were it not for the cheap makeup and slutty bright red lipstick that
adorned her trashy cunt of a mouth.

“Stand over here darling.” Said Frank breathing heavily and motioning to
the side of the room where the active camera was. “That’s it. Now do a
little bit of a twirl on your tip toes – try to make your skirt rise up so
the audience can see your bloomer again. Good girl Sandy.”

tiptoes and twirling around actually eased some some of the tension
momentarily. She spun around as fast as she could, but she couldn’t twirl
fast enough to make the skirt rise. Frank was prepared for this however,
and he withdrew a large fan from the back room. Plugging it in, it turned
it on and tilted it as low to the ground as possible facing it upward – a
short distance from being beneath her dress. Sandy twirled again. This
time the wind pushed her skirt right up revealing her soft pink cotton
bloomers again for all the men to see in the video.

fine detail of this brainless slut in action.

“Now lie on that couch over there on your side and face me. Lean your
head on your hand and twirl your blonde hair with the other.” Said Frank
motioning Sandy toward a large leather sofa in another part of the room.

her head in the palm of her hand and stared up at the bright lights and
camera dreamily – twirling her hair the way old fashioned dumb blondes used
to do in Victorian times. Women weren’t educated back then, being a naive
virgin was practically a requirement for a girl to get married in those
days. Frank had read a lot about that period, but it was clear that Sandy
knew nothing about the era. Still, she didn’t have to. All she had to do
was what she was told and she would look and behave like the classic
Victorian bimbo that some of his clients desired.

“Now lay on your back and raise your left leg up and rest it on the
crest of the couch sweetheart….perfect.”

raised her left leg and placed is on the upper crest of the couch. This
motion caused her frosty snow white skirt to rise up revealing a hint of
her pink cotton bloomer underneath. The site of her pink girlie
undergarment coupled with the snow white virgin look of the white Victorian
skirt was enough to drive any Victorian fetishest crazy with lust. Sandy
looked so young, sweet, girlie, and feminine, and yet so slutty at the same
time with all of that cheap whorish makeup on her stupid young face. Frank
zoomed his camera lens in on the powder white corset and focused in on
Sandy’s heavily exposed cleavage. Her platinum blonde hair sparkled in the
camera light and cascaded down her chest – enhancing the pink fleshiness of
her soft puffy boob cleavage.

“Keep twirling your hair sweetie…that’s a real nice shot….my
goodness you really are a natural beauty…”

“Thank you Mister.” Sandy replied smiling up at him and twirling her
stupid blonde hair.

“Role your eyes for the audience sweetie…roll them like your dreaming
of wonderland…that’s a good lil’ girl.”

and makeup. She thought she looked sexy. What she REALLY looked like was
submissive blonde air-head. The kind of cunt any man could take advantage
of at almost any time. She looked dreamy, gentle, and stupid – the way
most Victorian women were taught to be for their gentlman admirers.

“Now Sandy, you’re cooperating very nicely with this preliminary
process. I think you’re ready to take the next step in being the sexy kind
of girl I know you can be. You want to be sexy and attractive don’t you?”

“Ummmm yes Mister. I’ll do whatever it takes to become a model….”
sighed Sandy in a dreamy voice.

“Good girl Sandy. I think you’re going to take a big step in that
direction by lying down with your back to the floor facing the couch…”

Sandy did as she was told and removed herself from the couch – making
sure to lie down on the floor in front of it resting on her back.

“Now place both of your ankles on the couch and spread your sweet little
legs wide open for the camera….what a sweet girl…very nice.”

Sandy raised her ankles about two feet into the air and up onto the
front cushion of the couch making sure to spread her legs as if she were in
some imaginary stirrups.

“Raise your skirt a little more darling. Give the audience another peek
at your bloomers.”

Sandy’s legs were now completely raised and elevated by the sofa. Her
thighs were spread wide open. Her Victorian skirt was now hiked way up
giving her the appearence of a drunken Victorian teenage tramp who had
tried to appear grown up but wound up falling off the couch on her back -
spread wide and ready to have her pink bloomers torn off her and fingers
and cocks jammed into her white trash cunt.

“Perfect Sandy. You’re such a talented model…perhaps one of the most
cooperative and obedient I have ever had.”

so excited that he liked her. More and more she grew more relaxed with the
process. Soon she would be puddy in his hands.

bikini’s and some short tattered daisy dukes in very provactive poses, it
was time for Sandy to go home. Frank drove her back to the corner near her
trailer park and handed her a fifty dollar bill.

“That’s for being so cooperative Sandy. You’re a gorgious blonde with
lots of potential – I hope to see you tomorrow night for another session.”

“Thank you Mister. You really think I’m good?”

“You certainly are sweetie.” Replied Frank. “Tomorrow you will have an
opportunity to make even more money than you made tonight – provided you
continue to be a good model and do as you are told. I have a business
associate of mine coming over to watch. I hope you won’t mind.”

“Do you think he’ll like me Mister? I want him to like me the way you
like me.” said Sandy in her wishful teenage voice.

“That all depends on how happy you make him Sandy. If you smile,
giggle, and cooperate like you did tonight, there’s no telling how far the
stars will take you. Just don’t tell anyone about this OK?”

“OK Mister. I’ll call you tomorrow at the same time.”

“That’s my girl. See you soon.”

definatately going to become a popular model all right – for all the wrong
reasons.

lunch hour and met with her dealer in a private area of the woods. She
bought a decent supply of cocain and left quickly to return to her classes
before her break concluded. After taking a tiny snort like the white trash
pig that she was, she became extremely excited about her modeling opportunity
with this new aquaintence of hers – Mr. Trent. He seemed to really care
about her and she would do almost anything to stay in his good graces.
Sandy knew that there would be another man in the “studio” watching her
model, but the combination of drugs in her system and the deep anticipation
of becoming a real star and dropping out of school for good clouded her
judgement. So what if there was going to be another man, no one would know
about it. It wasn’t like she had told anybody – least of all her stupid
teachers or parents. It was hard not telling her friends on the
cheerleading squad though. Sandy liked to recieve attention and she loved
to brag. However she understood what Mr. Trent meant when he told her not
to tell anybody. She was only 16, and he obviously didn’t want to get
either of them into trouble. It made sense to her and so she said nothing.

pair of cutoff daisy-dukes that were ripped and torn at the base. They
were also a size too short for her – which revealed some of her precious
soft white ass cheeks. Her soft white bottom looked round and firm in the
mirror – begging to be touched, massaged, and explored. Sandy smiled to
herself as she look at herself in the mirror. She knew what Mr. Trent
liked in a young girl and she was more than willing to give it to him. She
also wore a trashy looking cherry red cutoff top – which was extremely
short because it was nearly three years old and Sandy and done some growing
since she was thirteen. She wore no bra for this occasion, and her
luscious boobs were clearly outlined and the bottom portions of her soft
white globes were plainly visible to the naked eye.

trashy cutoff top and her deep black eyeliner and mascara – which had also
been applied in heavy doses. After taking a big snort of coke from her
private stash under her small bed, she hurried downstairs and snuck out the
door before her mother could ask stupid questions. It was a long walk, but
she quickly made it to the practice field at school and waited anxiously
for Mr. Trent’s familiar SUV to pull up by the curb. Like clockwork, Mr.
Trent arrived with someone else in tow. It must have been the other
“gentleman” that he had mentioned to her the other night. Sandy liked
admirers and so she didn’t mind. She got a good look at him before she was
instructed to get in the back seat. The man was young and handsome and
seemed very well built from the limited view she could see. Sandy felt
herself becoming slightly attracted to him – and her stupid lil’ cunny became
moist and damp as she imagined doing some “sexy” modeling for him.

studio basement. They exchanged small talk amongst one another and
occasionally glared at Sandy in the rear view mirror. They weren’t looking
at her face – rather her slutty looking outfit and jiggling boobs which
bounced slightly every time the SUV hit a bump in the road. Sandy didn’t
mind. She liked being admired and wanted to become a famous model some
day. This was just the starting point – or so she thought.

basement. Mr. Trent led the way while the stranger followed behind her.
She was led into the main area which was surrounded by even more cameras
than before.

“Should I change Mister?” asked Sandy innocently – remembering how Mr.
Trent wanted to be called “Mister” at all times.

“I think we will start with what you’re wearing sweetie. I can see that
you’re learning what kind of model we’re looking for in a girl like you.”
Replied Mr. Trent eyeing her body all over again.

this made her slightly uncomfortable, she assumed that annonymity was part
of “the business” and so she didn’t think much of it. The cocain she had
taken before she had left her house was now in full effect and her worries
had already begun to desolve in front of the two men. The stranger’s name
was Mr. Dodson. He was a wealthy business esecutive from New York who had
come to see the session. He was a close friend of Mr. Trent’s and shared
many of the same sexual interests and deviencies. He could see that this
stupid blonde was getting high as a kite and he eyed her worthless body
with evil admiration and anticipation. Sandy’s daisy dukes already had a
damp wet spot growing at the crotch – a clear indication that she was
creaming herself in front of them.

“Stand up on the center table Sandy. Do a little white trash dance for
us.” said Mr. Trent. “I hope you don’t mind if we degrade you a little
Sandy. Just remember, if you behave yourself and do as you’re told, you’ll
make twice the amount of money you made the last time.”

So what if they degraded her. No one else would know about it and besides,
she liked the idea of earning $100 dollars this time around. She made her
way toward the center table and began to climb onto it.

“Slowly dear….slowly. Mr. Dodson and I want to see some seduction
first.” Chimed Mr. Trent. “Crawl up on your hands and knees and wiggle
your stupid little ass for us. We want to have a nice view of your
bottom.”

little bit. The words “stupid” and “white trash” began to resound in her
mind like a broken record. And slowly it dawned on her that despite the
money she would soon be making, she was clearly being used for their
perverse enjoyment. She crawled up onto the table slowly making sure to
stick her bottom out seductively. She gave it a slight wiggle and sway -
back and forth in a slow and deliberate manner – providing her audience
with an open invitation toward various “anal” perversions.

a keeper. Mr. Dodson watched with evil lust as the sleazy blonde stood up
on the center table and began swaying her hips. Mr. Trent moved to a
small sterio at the corner of the room and turned on some rythmic dance
music – all instrumental of course. The two men both grab some chairs and
resumed their attention on the dumb blonde as she gently swayed her hips to
the music. She was still fully clothed at first, and had to be prodded by
Mr. Trent to remove her top. She wore no bra, and her soft round boobs
bounced seductively up and down for the two men. Her soft pouty nipples
looked so fleshy, pink, and inviting and she was instructed to squeeze and
pinch them for Mr. Dodson.

routine.

“Now turn around and try to touch your toes. C’mon honey. It shouldn’t
be a problem being the flexible cheerleader that you are.”

Then she bent over with little difficulty and touched her toes. Her bottom
stuck out and the men could see some of the dampness in her lower crotch
area. This young cunt was definately enjoying herself.

“Pull your jeans down a little darling…give us a nice tease.” said Mr.
Trent firmly as the music continued to blare in the backround.

moment that she became aware that she had creamed her white trash panties.
Her face turned crimson red as she realized that the men had probably seen
this already and assumed that she had peed herself. Blushing
uncontrollably she tried to maintain her rythem with the music while she
unbuttoned her jeans. She kept her back to the camera and bent over again
making sure to peel her slutty jeans half way down her soft white bottom.
It was the perfect “peek-a-boo” routine and the two men were eating it up
like lustful animals. Mr. Trent and Mr. Dodson thoroughly enjoyed the
site of the young teenybopper bending over with her jeans and panties
exposing nearly half of her ass crack to the camera. It looked soft,
spungy, and fleshy – just like the soft white tissue that comprised her
stupid little brain.

“A little more dear. Show us a little more won’t you?” Said Mr. Trent
as he zoomed in on her bottom.

than just a view of her ass crack. They wanted to see what was INSIDE!
Blushing even more, Sandy did as she was told. No amount of drug influence
could hide her embarassment now.

“A little more dear, and show your face to the camera. I’m sure your
future audience would like to place a face with the bottom. Not that your
face is the more important of the two, it’s just that some men like to see
a young girl blush when she pulls her pants down. That’s it dear…show
more of your hiney to us.”

back behind her. Her blushing face could clearly see the two men behind
her snapping pictures and using the video camera. Slowly and reluctantly
she hitched each of her thumbs to the sides of her trashy daisy dukes and
began to pull them down further – exposing her entire ass crack for their
perverse viewing pleasure.

“Reach behind you and squeeze your cheeks sweetie – men really like
that.” Added Mr. Trent.

globes. The combination of drugs and music helped to relax her a little as
she began to focus on the attention she was getting. Sandy thought she was
being admired – albeit in a perverse kind of way. But none the less, it
was clear to her that she was the center of attention – a feeling she
always craved at school.

“That’s it Sandy…squeeze your bottom and sway your stupid little hips
for us. See Mr. Dodson? These young cunts are all the same. They’ll do
anything for money and attention. Though I think Sandy is even more
special. As you can probably already tell – she’s a drug addict.”

“Indeed she is. This is a good thing. Drug addiction tends to make
young girls more…open minded.”

“I agree.” Replied Mr. Trent. “I think Sandy will be agreeable to
almost anything…for the right price of course.”

perverts. Then came the next command from Mr. Trent.

“Spread your bottom sweetheart. Show us the stupid little treasure you
have inside…c’mon sweetie no one will know about this except for us.”

wasn’t for her drug addiction she wouldn’t need his stupid money. But she
needed cocain! She needed it so badly everyday. She had no choice!

getting a nice grip on each of her precious teenybopper cheeks. Then she
slowly pulled them open – like a sweet young Christmas present for the two
executives. The soft white cheeks began to part – exposing her dark brown
crinckly anus. Mr. Dodson smiled and nodded his head. He had seen many
buttholes in his time, but Sandy’s was definately an instrument of lust.
Some girls had small pink puckered holes. Others had hairy ones. And some
girls you could barely tell they had an anus. But Sandy had the perfect
brown anal ring. It was quite expanded – like a soft brown target. It
budded open like a smelly little flower in bloom. Mr. Trent preferred
Sandy’s dark musky anal ring as well. It was very brown in appearence and
texture – giving the obvious hint of soft girlie poop that probably dwelled
within.

picture after picture of Sandy’s soft dirty anal bud. Mr. Trent was
videotaping Sandy’s crimson colored face – the look of extreme embarrasment
was clearly evident and his dick twiched uncontrollably in his trousers at
the site of her shame and lack of dignity.

“I know this is hard for you Sandy dear. But smile for the camera. Try
to think of all the money you will make if you cooperate with us like a
good girl.”

of money doing “things” for him. All she had to do was smile and obey,
soon she would be used to it and it wouldn’t be so hard. She couldn’t wait
for her next “snort” of coke.

“You have such a beautiful little ass hole darlin’” Continued Mr.
Trent. “Why don’t you show us how much YOU enjoy it dear. Play with your
butthole a little bit. I’m sure the men will appreciate it.”

pretty teen face. Her platinum blonde hair glistened brightly in the light
as it hung draped around the sides of her blushing pink cheeks. The music
continued it’s thumping rythem, but Sandy was no longer dancing. She was
beyond that now. Now she was being turned into nothing but a “trailer
whore.” Sandy reached deeper behind her – almost as if she were wiping
herself and placed a small girlish finger at the base of her shameful
womanly hole. The two men stared intently at Sandy’s little teenage
finger. Her finger nail polish was of the poor white trash variety – cherry
red and chipping away with 12 hour age. Their menacing cocks grew to
sizeable proportions as they watched her sweet trashy teenage finger circle
the rim of her brownie seductively – teasing her anus with her soft
feminine touch.

“Explore a little deeper dear. Warm up your finger a little bit. I
think you know what I mean darling…smile for us….that’s it.”

button. Then she began to push inward. What a marvelous site this was!
Such a talented girl! The men zoomed their cameras intently on the center
of Sandy’s soft white bottom. Now the action was definately centered
around her soft brown “ring of talent.” They watched as Sandy’s tiny finger
stopped moving in circles and fixated itself in the very center of her
shameful potty hole. Slowly and gently, the sweet young finger began to
sink inward – the red finger nail polish slowly disappeared behind her soft
“brown door” – worming it’s way deeper and deeper until it was down to her
bare knuckle. Sandy blushed uncontrollably as she felt her insides for the
first time. She had never dared touch herself like this before – it was
disgusting!

winced with slight discomfort.

“A little deeper Sandy….just a little more…c’mon baby…do it for
us….do it for the money!”

the tip of her finger began to brush against something moist and slushy.

*Oh no!” she thought. *THIS IS FILTHY*

“Wiggle it around sweetheart….get it nice and dirty for us….remember
the money honey.”

messy filth coating the tip of her tiny finger. This ordeal wasn’t nearly
over and she knew it. Her rectum had now gotten used to the feel of her
intrusive digit and was beginning to relax. The brief pain of insertion
had subsided and now it was just a matter of entertaining Mr. Trent and
Mr. Dodson.

it’s course, Mr. Trent commanded Sandy to lay on her back and assume a
flurry of cheesecake posses. The table platform felt cold beneath her bare
back and Sandy strained to keep warm. Her first order was to assume a
bottom’s up position. Sandy lay on her back and lifted both her legs
straight up into the air making sure to hold them together. Mr. Dodson
and Mr. Trent got some excellent shots of her soft round exposed bottom.
Next was the spread eagle position. Still on her back, Sandy was commanded
to spread her legs open in a “V” – an open invitation to be fucked hard.
This was followed by the traditional doggy style position with her back to
the cameras on all fours and her rear end sticking way up in the air – a
clear invitation to her male viewers that she yearned to be anal fucked.
Next were some vaginal close ups. Sandy was commanded to spread her
glistening blonde pussy lips wide open for all to see. Her vaginal
secretions were clearly evident and her innerds were fully exposed to the
cameras flashing bright juicy pink.

next command was a complete shocker – they wanted her to PEE on the table.
Thankfully she would be able to get this over with quickly because her
bladder was mostly full. Sandy looked at both men in protest, but they
just nodded their heads and urged her on.

“Don’t worry Sandy. We won’t tell anybody about this. It’s just
between us.” Reassured Mr. Trent.

every degrading moment for a future audience to watch and masturbate to.
Mr. Dodson gave Sandy a cold threatening stare – as if something terrible
might happen to her physically if she didn’t comply with their perverse
request.

that the men could have an excellent view of her open vagina. Her sweet
teenage cunny looked to cute, pert, and inviting. The men stared lustfully
as Sandy began making “squirt squirt” on the table. Her hot urine hissed
out of her cunny hole and sizzled onto the table beneath her. She had
quite a lot of pee and some of it began to dribble toward the edge of the
table. Mr. Dodson and Mr. Trent caught every tinkle drop on camera.

down on the table and immerse herself in her own urine. Worse still, he
told her to lick the finger that she had stuck up her ass for the camera -
seductively of course with a look of lust on her stupid little face. Sandy
was thoroughly humiliated by this point. As she lay down on her back, her
only consolation was the fact that her hot urine made the table warmer and
more bareable for her back. Tasting her own ass aroma was an entirely
different matter. Some of her feces was still on her finger and she had to
taste that too! GROSS!!!

began jerking off to the site of Sandy lying in her own puddle of piss and
licking her butt mush. Mr. Trent ordered Sandy to allow him to fuck her
in the ass. She refused of course – that is until he offered her $50.00
extra – then she relented and spread her filthy ass for him.

His thick veiny bulb pushed hard against her puckered brown opening and
shoved it’s way inward. Sandy gave out a loud yelp and she tensed up.
This made it worse of course and the pain of entry was excruciating for her
young teenage body. Sandy shuddered and writhed in momentary agony. Mr.
Dodson sneered at her while shoving his thick lard inside of her – full to
the hilt. Sandy’s tight anal ring formed a big round “O” around his shaft.

“Don’t worry Sandy Whore…soon it won’t hurt anymore – soon you’ll get
used to it.” Said Mr. Dodson as he began pumping slowly in and out.

crotch – capturing every shot of her first ever anal scene!

her hot little anus with reckless abandon. This only served to agrivate
the pain in Sandy’s rectum and she began to openely wince and cry out. Mr.
Trent had anticipated this too, and he filmed some close up shots of her
pained facial expressions. Some of his clients preferred to see teenage
girls hurt and punished. Finally, Mr. Dodson shot his load inside of
Sandy’s bottom. Large gooey ropes of cum spat out of his evil penis and
splashed all over the insides of her colin. Sandy felt the strange goopy
warmth spread thoughout her intestines. It felt extremely weird.

rivalets of cum dribbled out of her anus and onto the table – making her
look even more like a filthy teenage whore. Mr. Trent caught every minute
of it. He smiled at Mr. Dodson, this was definately going to be a hot
selling tape. The profits alone would probably range into the thousands.
Not bad – considering they only paid this stupid blonde $150.00 for the
evening.

outfits for this stupid cunt to model later – not to mention some
hardcore fisting action!

By
Mindlesswonder303

Scarlet stomped up the stairs angry at having to come out on this beautiful late summer night to work on a preliminary paper that was only a basis of a paper she wouldn’t need to present until the spring. For Christ’s sake she thought to herself, it’s the first week of classes. Becoming angrier as she passed the volumes of books in an empty university library, she was mumbling curses about her quite handsome professor who had insisted she present something to him before the next class.

To make matters worse, the ancient cultures section was on the top floor of the equally feeling ancient library in a section that was the stuff of horror spoofs. Scarlet pulled a series of dusty books off the shelf and found a chair that was relatively comfortable and completely stain free. Despite its obvious age, it looked like no had ever sat in it. At least no one has had a choice to soil it with bodily fluids she thought critically.

Thumbing through volumes, Scarlet grew tired of taking notes and picked up the last volume. It was in a language she had never seen before as she leafed through the pages. The book was clearly aged and had an aura about it that made her turn the pages even more vigorously. There was a power emanating from the book. The more she struggled to read the alien language, the more Scarlet found herself drawn to it.

At page 422 Scarlet stopped skimming the book instantly. Something about the page caught her attention and forced her to try and decipher it. The page was blank save for a brief paragraph above a short poem. Incantation came immediately to Scarlet’s mind and snorted at the mere use of that word. It was ridiculous. Incantations and such nonsense.

As Scarlet ran her fingers over the page she begin to sound out the words that had a distinct air of Latin mixed with Gaelic phrases. As the words, which meanings escaped her, fell from her lips, Scarlet became more anxious to finish the phrases. As the last word was uttered with forced, a strange feeling began to envelop Scarlet.

She began to become antsy in her seat as she twisted moved erratically trying to cease the rapid warming sensations that began to flood her body. Her mind was invaded by a light grogginess that had the distinct impression of pink bubbles. Trying to shake her head clear of the nonsense, Scarlet grabbed the offending book and began to run towards the back stairwell that led to the scenic trail back to her dorm.

Scarlet only made it halfway down the first flight when the tingling sensation in her breasts erupted to an almost pleasure laced with pain. Her waist felt as if it was cinching tighter but her hips began to strain against her jeans. Scarlet’s head was being filled with more bubbles, yes, bubbles, that was the best way she could rationalize it.

Grasping the railing, Scarlet noticed that her hand was becoming slimmer, more delicate and it looked as though she had perfectly manicured nails protruding from what used to be nail bitten stubs. Suddenly, the tingling in Scarlet’s chest took precedence in her awareness and she felt her breasts swell popping the buttons on her shirt.

When she would have cried out, Scarlet let out a fit of giggles in a voice sounding happily pleased and laced with enjoyment. Running her hands through her hair trying to shake the oddness of the night away, Scarlet realized that her hair was longer that it had been before and pulling it to look at it, noticed that it was nearly platinum blonde in color.

Scarlet pulled herself up and frantically tried to get herself to the exit has quickly as possible. She was hindered by a new onset of clumsiness as she bolted towards her dorm room. When she could see her dorm in sight her panic begin to rise because her confusion and inherent desire for fun began to take over. She was literally seeing pink bubbles.

Firm hands clasped her shoulders halting her frantic movements. Looking up, she saw her professor with a slightly amused grin on his face.

“Professor Hart,” Scarlet stuttered. “Please help me!”

“I would miss, if I knew who I was talking to. I feel I am at a disadvantage, you know me, but I don’t know who you are.”

His voice was creamy and smooth and it drove her absolutely insane. Stomping her foot, Scarlet yelled at him, “Professor! It’s Scarlet!”

His smile widened. “You don’t look like Scarlet.”

She could feel her nostrils flare and he took out his camera phone and snapped a quick picture. Showing it to her nearly made her head spin.

The girl that used to be there was no more. The girl in the picture looked sensual, an exaggerated hour glass figure with curves to kill, the nearly hip long blonde hair cascaded in waves. Her legs were longer and more toned, the perfect legs for heels, even in the jeans that didn’t fit just right.

Maybe it was the look of hunger clearly visible on her teacher’s face, maybe it was seeing what she had become but Scarlet through her head back and let out a fit carefree giggles at just how ridiculous this had become.

When she had finally finished her giggling, Scarlet was filled with a light heartedness she hadn’t ever experienced. She was also very aroused, and couldn’t remember why she hadn’t kissed this very fine specimen of man in front of her yet.