Plimsolllover
Bronze Member
Hi everyone, I've been working on this story for a while and after enjoying Scort's story I thought you might enjoy this one too. All constructive critique is most welcome.
ALWAYS A PRO
Chrissie shows she can take it standing up and lying down on her toughest job ever.
I’ve been a fetish and bondage actress and model for more than two years now. When I look back over how it all came about I can almost believe it was always meant to happen; not that I believe in destiny or fate or any of that stuff.
Everyone always said I was a bright girl, but I was hopeless at school – I guess I was the wrong sort of bright – and I left without taking any exams. After several years of dead-end jobs I decided I wanted something better. So I enrolled at the local college and began making up for everything I’d missed out on at school. But even with government assistance it was hard to make ends meet on what I could earn from waitressing and bar work. I was always the black sheep of my family and I’d not seen or spoken to any of them since leaving home years before so I knew I’d get no help there.
I started with telephone sex. Then I tried stripping, but I didn’t get far with that because, as I got fed up with being told, although I had plenty in the personality department I was sadly lacking in the boobs department. But through the telephone work and the stripping, plus a few months of street work and advertising myself in phone boxes, I managed to build up a small portfolio of trusted clients.
Mark was one of my best clients and when he invited me to be one of his featured ‘artistes’ in his porn videos and photo shoots I jumped at the chance. Not that I found it easy at first. For some reason I found it hard to loosen up in front of the camera and do the things I could easily do for my clients without a second thought. I was terrified the first time I got naked in front of a studio full of guys. I needed all my will power to grasp a cock and take it in my mouth. I needed a stiff drink before and after I was first fucked on camera and I nearly freaked out the first time I was tied up and gagged. That was when Mark was in his ‘ballerinas in distress’ phase; so I was wearing a very high-thigh white leotard showing lots of bare bottom, pulled down at the front to expose my tits, a tiny pink wrap-around tutu skirt, white stay-up tights with lacy tops and pink satin ballerina pointe shoes with ribbons tied around my ankles.
But I’m not a quitter and I’ve always pushed myself through any challenge. Mark always encouraged me and told me I had talent. He paid for me to have my boob job that I’d always longed for and to have a couple of my teeth straightened. So after a steep learning curve I soon settled into my new career. Early on, Mark had me down as a specialist in plimsoll, or sneaker, fetish product. I’ve got good legs: long and shapely with attractive skinny ankles and pretty and neat little feet. Mark loved the way I looked in classic white Keds lace-up plimsolls and that suited me down to the ground because I had always got a thrill from wearing plimsolls too. So I wore white Keds in nearly all my porn shoots and always whenever I provided him with his personal service, which he still insisted on paying me for. He’s always been totally straight with me. That’s why I like him.
I was taking a break between shooting one afternoon, sitting at a table with a bacon sandwich and a large mug of tea, wearing just my Chinese silk dressing gown and my white Keds with baby doll frilly white ankle socks. I was nursing my backside having just been fucked up my arse while bent over the back of a Harley Davidson by a big hairy guy wearing just a black crash helmet and big black leather biker boots. Mark came over, sat down opposite me and, leaning over the table, asked,
“Are you still open for new business?”
Not needing to ask what he meant and smiling at his deliberate double-entendre, I asked him back.
“What’s he looking for and what’s he offering?”
“This mate of mine wants a girl for a night. I’ll be completely honest with you, Chrissie, he’s a bit of head case and he’s no Prince Charming, so you’d have to expect a bit of rough handling. Not that he’d kill you or break your arms and legs or slap you around or anything like that; but you’d be a bit bruised and sore afterwards.”
“How come you’re mates with a psycho like that?” I glanced suspiciously at him over my tea mug.
“We go back a long way and it’s a long story. He’s done me lots of favours over the years and even though he’s mental he always does what he says he’ll do. He’s never let me down once all the years I’ve known him. There’s no-one else I can say that about. So I always try to help him out. He’ll fuck you hard but I promise he won’t fuck you about.”
“How much is he paying then?” I asked him, reckoning it wouldn’t be such a bad way to earn a quick couple of hundred or so.
“Two grand.”
I nearly dropped my mug of tea.
“Are you fucking me about?”
He looked at me levelly.
“Two thousand pounds, guaranteed, no questions asked.”
I had always longed for a chance to make that kind of money.
“Shit, Mark, when do I meet him and where?”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be a tough gig, Chrissie. You’ve got to understand that.”
I smiled teasingly at him. “You’re not worrying about me, are you?”
He transferred his hand from my shoulder to my hand.
“You’re a great girl, Chrissie. I care about you. I don’t want you taking on something you can’t handle.”
That decided it for me. I looked him straight in the eye.
“You know I’ve never backed down from a challenge. I’m going to do it. Now tell me how I find him.”
“You don’t go to him. He’ll come for you when he’s ready, and when he thinks you’re ready.”
His last comment made me shudder a little inside and I almost regretted my decision. But my determination drove me on.
“How will I know it’s him?”
“He’ll use a code word: ‘I’ve been watching you.’”
This made me feel even more scared, but my will power forced the feeling back down.
“How will he know where to find me?”
The feeling rose up again as I heard Mark’s reply.
“When he knows you do work for me, he’ll work out how to find you. He’s a nutter but he isn’t stupid.”
With one more effort I pushed my fear out of my mind and concentrated on being professional.
“Has he got any ‘special requirements’?”
“He likes girls in white Keds plimsolls. And lay off shaving yourself Down South, he’s got a thing about that. And you also have to sign this.”
He pushed a piece of paper and a pen towards me. The paper was a disclaimer to say that I had consented to ‘any act of an extreme sexual nature.’
“You can still back out if you want to,” he said. His watchful expression drilled right through me.
I shot him a determined glance, picked up the paper and pen, took a deep breath, and signed.
For the first few days afterwards I had a constant feeling of nervous expectation in the pit of my stomach. But as the days lengthened into weeks and still nothing happened, I gradually forgot all about it. Mark never mentioned it so I just let it go. ‘All mouth and no trousers’ was how I summed up his mate. ‘Too bad about the two grand though, it was always going to be too good to be true’, I thought. The only reminder I had was my regrown bush, which for some reason I kept and which felt slightly strange under my panties; seeing as I’d kept myself smooth down there since starting out as a stripper several years before. Mark made no comment about it, simply airbrushing my dark and luxuriant growth out of my pictures.
[Part 2 coming soon]
ALWAYS A PRO
Chrissie shows she can take it standing up and lying down on her toughest job ever.
I’ve been a fetish and bondage actress and model for more than two years now. When I look back over how it all came about I can almost believe it was always meant to happen; not that I believe in destiny or fate or any of that stuff.
Everyone always said I was a bright girl, but I was hopeless at school – I guess I was the wrong sort of bright – and I left without taking any exams. After several years of dead-end jobs I decided I wanted something better. So I enrolled at the local college and began making up for everything I’d missed out on at school. But even with government assistance it was hard to make ends meet on what I could earn from waitressing and bar work. I was always the black sheep of my family and I’d not seen or spoken to any of them since leaving home years before so I knew I’d get no help there.
I started with telephone sex. Then I tried stripping, but I didn’t get far with that because, as I got fed up with being told, although I had plenty in the personality department I was sadly lacking in the boobs department. But through the telephone work and the stripping, plus a few months of street work and advertising myself in phone boxes, I managed to build up a small portfolio of trusted clients.
Mark was one of my best clients and when he invited me to be one of his featured ‘artistes’ in his porn videos and photo shoots I jumped at the chance. Not that I found it easy at first. For some reason I found it hard to loosen up in front of the camera and do the things I could easily do for my clients without a second thought. I was terrified the first time I got naked in front of a studio full of guys. I needed all my will power to grasp a cock and take it in my mouth. I needed a stiff drink before and after I was first fucked on camera and I nearly freaked out the first time I was tied up and gagged. That was when Mark was in his ‘ballerinas in distress’ phase; so I was wearing a very high-thigh white leotard showing lots of bare bottom, pulled down at the front to expose my tits, a tiny pink wrap-around tutu skirt, white stay-up tights with lacy tops and pink satin ballerina pointe shoes with ribbons tied around my ankles.
But I’m not a quitter and I’ve always pushed myself through any challenge. Mark always encouraged me and told me I had talent. He paid for me to have my boob job that I’d always longed for and to have a couple of my teeth straightened. So after a steep learning curve I soon settled into my new career. Early on, Mark had me down as a specialist in plimsoll, or sneaker, fetish product. I’ve got good legs: long and shapely with attractive skinny ankles and pretty and neat little feet. Mark loved the way I looked in classic white Keds lace-up plimsolls and that suited me down to the ground because I had always got a thrill from wearing plimsolls too. So I wore white Keds in nearly all my porn shoots and always whenever I provided him with his personal service, which he still insisted on paying me for. He’s always been totally straight with me. That’s why I like him.
I was taking a break between shooting one afternoon, sitting at a table with a bacon sandwich and a large mug of tea, wearing just my Chinese silk dressing gown and my white Keds with baby doll frilly white ankle socks. I was nursing my backside having just been fucked up my arse while bent over the back of a Harley Davidson by a big hairy guy wearing just a black crash helmet and big black leather biker boots. Mark came over, sat down opposite me and, leaning over the table, asked,
“Are you still open for new business?”
Not needing to ask what he meant and smiling at his deliberate double-entendre, I asked him back.
“What’s he looking for and what’s he offering?”
“This mate of mine wants a girl for a night. I’ll be completely honest with you, Chrissie, he’s a bit of head case and he’s no Prince Charming, so you’d have to expect a bit of rough handling. Not that he’d kill you or break your arms and legs or slap you around or anything like that; but you’d be a bit bruised and sore afterwards.”
“How come you’re mates with a psycho like that?” I glanced suspiciously at him over my tea mug.
“We go back a long way and it’s a long story. He’s done me lots of favours over the years and even though he’s mental he always does what he says he’ll do. He’s never let me down once all the years I’ve known him. There’s no-one else I can say that about. So I always try to help him out. He’ll fuck you hard but I promise he won’t fuck you about.”
“How much is he paying then?” I asked him, reckoning it wouldn’t be such a bad way to earn a quick couple of hundred or so.
“Two grand.”
I nearly dropped my mug of tea.
“Are you fucking me about?”
He looked at me levelly.
“Two thousand pounds, guaranteed, no questions asked.”
I had always longed for a chance to make that kind of money.
“Shit, Mark, when do I meet him and where?”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be a tough gig, Chrissie. You’ve got to understand that.”
I smiled teasingly at him. “You’re not worrying about me, are you?”
He transferred his hand from my shoulder to my hand.
“You’re a great girl, Chrissie. I care about you. I don’t want you taking on something you can’t handle.”
That decided it for me. I looked him straight in the eye.
“You know I’ve never backed down from a challenge. I’m going to do it. Now tell me how I find him.”
“You don’t go to him. He’ll come for you when he’s ready, and when he thinks you’re ready.”
His last comment made me shudder a little inside and I almost regretted my decision. But my determination drove me on.
“How will I know it’s him?”
“He’ll use a code word: ‘I’ve been watching you.’”
This made me feel even more scared, but my will power forced the feeling back down.
“How will he know where to find me?”
The feeling rose up again as I heard Mark’s reply.
“When he knows you do work for me, he’ll work out how to find you. He’s a nutter but he isn’t stupid.”
With one more effort I pushed my fear out of my mind and concentrated on being professional.
“Has he got any ‘special requirements’?”
“He likes girls in white Keds plimsolls. And lay off shaving yourself Down South, he’s got a thing about that. And you also have to sign this.”
He pushed a piece of paper and a pen towards me. The paper was a disclaimer to say that I had consented to ‘any act of an extreme sexual nature.’
“You can still back out if you want to,” he said. His watchful expression drilled right through me.
I shot him a determined glance, picked up the paper and pen, took a deep breath, and signed.
For the first few days afterwards I had a constant feeling of nervous expectation in the pit of my stomach. But as the days lengthened into weeks and still nothing happened, I gradually forgot all about it. Mark never mentioned it so I just let it go. ‘All mouth and no trousers’ was how I summed up his mate. ‘Too bad about the two grand though, it was always going to be too good to be true’, I thought. The only reminder I had was my regrown bush, which for some reason I kept and which felt slightly strange under my panties; seeing as I’d kept myself smooth down there since starting out as a stripper several years before. Mark made no comment about it, simply airbrushing my dark and luxuriant growth out of my pictures.
[Part 2 coming soon]