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From: hgrant08028@yahoo.com (H. Grant)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 23 Oct 2003 15:57:56 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} The Perfect Blonde ch. 1  (M/f/cheer/Victorian/slut/bimbo)
Date: Thu, 23 Oct 2003 19:10:03 -0400
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The Perfect Blonde ch. 1 (Mf/cheerleader/Victorian fetish/slut/bimbo)

by H. Grant



   Sandy sat in English class bored out of her mind.  A dreamy yawn ecaped
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.

   Sandy was definately not college material.  She was a below average
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.

   Indeed, these were the traits that outsiders such as Frank Trent looked
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.

   Frank had his eye on Sandy from afar.  He had driven by the practice
field many times while the cheerleading squad ran through their dialy
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.

   * * * *

   Sandy was walking home after cheerleading practice.  She lived about 3
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.

   Sandy continued walking as the sun was setting.  She had showered in the
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.

   The sound of a car pulling up beside her on the sidewalk broke her
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.

   Sandy's ears perked up when she heard this.  Wow.  A fashion model
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."

   Sandy couldn't believe what she had just heard.  This guy was offering
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.

   She was so excited.  She couldn't believe this was happening.  Sandy
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.

   He was an expert at this.  Making sure to play to a young girl's
insecurities before building them up on false cushions of praise.

   "Yeah.  I guess so." Sandy looked down dejectedly.

   Frank looked over at her briefly - eyeing up her shiny platinum blonde
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."

   Sandy's mouth nearly fell open agap.  She couldn't believe it.  $300.00
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."

   Frank slipped the word "cooperative" in at great risk.  Either Sandy
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.

   She watched as the expensive SUV pulled away and drove off into the
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.

   * * * *

   Frank waited patiently the following evening.  He knew he would get the
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.

   The phone rang.  Frank knew it was her before he even picked it up.

   "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."

   Frank hung up the phone.  It was definately turning out to be a good
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.

   She was quite nervous that he was bating her into admitting it before
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."

   The SUV sped off into the night carrying what promised to be the product
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.

   * * * *

   Frank Trent led the gullible young teenybopper down into his basement
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.

   Sandy sat down giggling nervously.  She had never been around such
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."

   Sandy lowered her head and blushed.  She knew he was right.

   "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?"

   Sandy lowered her head and blushed again.  She began to understand what
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."

   Sandy smiled and stood up.  She wanted to be as cheerful and as
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."

   Sandy grew excited.  She couldn't wait to show Mr.  Trent how talented
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.

   Sandy giggled nervously as she was now being filmed on camera.  Then she
tentatively started her paces.

   First she stretched her skinny arms out to either side of her in a
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."

   Sandy stood straight up and planted her feet side by side in a locked
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....*

   The camera clicked away as Sandy stood in the highly compromising
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..."

   Sandy leaned forward, but her sweater offered very little in terms of a
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."

   Sandy was delighted.  She's never worn an outfit like this before. 
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.

   When she stepped out into the open studio Frank was astonished by her
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."

   Sandy felt uncomfortable on her feet.  In a strange way, being on her
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.

   Frank moved around with another camera on his shoulder capturing every
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.

   Sandy did as she was told and lay sideways on the big couch.  She rested
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."

   Sandy giggled nervously and turned completely onto her back.  Then she
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."

   Sandy rolled her precious blue eyes - all caked with heavy eye shadow
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."

   Sandy smiled up at him from her backward positing on the floor.  She was
so excited that he liked her.  More and more she grew more relaxed with the
process.  Soon she would be puddy in his hands.

   After modeling several other outfits - most notably three pairs of
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."

   Frank drove off and smiled to himself.  Dumb little Sandy was
definatately going to become a popular model all right - for all the wrong
reasons.



to be continued...



Comments?  E-mail me at: hgrant08028@yahoo.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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