Wednesday, June 17, 2009

She's Got Legs, Part VIII


She found the office easily enough. It was just a regular pre-war office building with a normal lobby and elevator. She did notice that there were plush carpeted runners over the highly polished marble floors, which was unusual. Could it be to protect the delicate feet of the employees on the fourth floor?

When the elevator opened onto the office she was shocked at how bright, clean and, well, “normal” the office looked. She would have never guessed at the weird happenings that went on behind the main door. She gave her name to the friendly receptionist and was immediately escorted through the main door into a long hallway, which had many doors opening off it with a red light over each one, some off and some on. Could they all be recording studios?

The perky blond receptionist chatted away while leading her down the hallway. She was cute and blond and reminded her of Dolly Parton in “9 to 5”. She kept up a running monologue, “I am SO tickled that you decided to come on down and see us! M is a regular around here and he’s mentioned that he thought he had found some new talent. I am SO glad it was YOU! You’re gonna love it here—everyone who works here is so NICE! Someone brings in donuts every Monday morning because even in this funky little office, everyone HATES Mondays!”

She led her to a room where the light was on. They waited for a moment and when the light went out they entered. The room was smaller than Sally had expected and every wall was covered with sound insulation, making it feel a bit claustrophobic. The bright lights and cameras made it rather hot, as well. After the lovely lobby and office reception area, seeing the somewhat squalid studio was a let-down.

When she saw what they were doing in front of the camera her blood pumped harder.

She saw a very average-looking woman with dirty-blond hair drawn up in a ponytail wearing minimal make-up and a not-terribly-flattering one-piece bathing suit. But from her thighs down she was magnificent! She wore thigh-high black stockings and black patent leather boots that hugged her calves and laced up the front. She was the bitch-goddess incarnate!

She was methodically crushing an H.O.-scale train depot--waiting commuters and all. She lifted and lowered her boot so carefully it seemed as though she was moving in slow-motion. Her legs were well-muscled and must have been incredibly strong to be able to lift and hold in mid-air the four-inch heeled boots and lower them with such seductive precision. Sally could almost hear the screams of the helpless crowd lining the platform, unable to run for their lives into the tiny forest.

But that wasn’t the end. The train approached with a few toots and the performer paused, waiting for just the right moment to strike. The queen was ready to exact her vengeance!

The anticipation was almost too much for Sally. She felt her heart beating faster and blood rushing to her face and crotch, making her tingle all over. She hugged her elbows to try to calm herself and remembered the group of strangers with her in the room. The receptionist turned to Sally with a gleam in her eye and a wry smile, but no judgment. Everyone could feel the electricity of the moment before the train’s ultimate destruction.

And then the performer brought her boot down on the racing train, derailing it and making its wheels spin helplessly in the air. It whistled a few feeble toots, seeming to beg for its life, but the queen would not be appeased. She lifted her foot again and crushed the train so slowly, so completely, so coldly and Sally felt her Kegel muscles contract, rocking her body and making her gasp audibly.

The scene ended, everyone let out a collective breath and then turned to Sally with curiosity. The receptionist was practically glittering and said to Sally, “So, would you like to join us?”

How could she say no?

to be continued...

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

She's Got Legs, Part VII

Sally sat up late that night thinking about all that she had seen and heard in M’s office that day. A whole new world had opened up to her when he had opened that door. The stuff that guy was into was the most twisted, bizarre and fantastically joyful that she had ever seen. He had shown her videos of things that she would have never thought of in a thousand years, yet it all felt so familiar. It had been wonderful afternoon.

M had thousands of videos of feet doing all sort of amazing things. They were mostly women’s feet, or at least feet encased in feminine footwear. The feet walked, ran, strutted, danced, tapped, stepped into vats of Jell-O, slid on syrup, and best of all, stomped on miniature scenes involving trains. She had never imagined that feet could be so creative and sexy to others! She had felt isolated for so long. Just knowing that a whole community of people like her were out there made her feel more human.

M had wanted her to star in some videos that a friend of his produced. He thought that it would be a way for Sally to work through and indulge her desires while making a bit of extra cash. She was certainly tempted, but taking money for doing it made it seem somehow sordid. She had left M’s office that day feeling thankful to him but had made no promises. She needed to go home and process all she had seen and sort out how she felt about it all.

She had gratefully accepted the loan of some of M’s favorite selections from his extensive collection. Some were kooky and interesting but a few really got her going.

One in particular made her think about her accidental destruction of the little toy man at her sister’s yesterday. M had said it was one of his favorites and Sally could certainly see why. A woman in very high heels was slowly and purposefully crushing toy trains. The shot was framed so that the viewer could only see half-way up the woman’s calf as she so seductively stomped on the steam-engine train chugging through the tiny German hillside. It had been so well produced that she had to dig her old vibrator out of the drawer and finish herself off.

There was one draw-back. Seeing so many of the videos at once made the whole idea of focusing on feet seem absurd. No wonder the few people she had confided in had always given her that look when she had admitted her dirty little secret. The look that had made her feel like an alien and a freak.

But that didn’t keep her from feeling as if she were a part of something larger than herself—almost like some sort of family. After much soul-searching, she decided to call the contact that M had given her to make some new videos. She had to meet others who had her particular fancy. After making the decision, and giving her old vibrator another run, she slept better than she had in ages.

When she awoke the next morning, she called out sick from work and made some phone calls to M’s contacts instead. There was no way she could sit through an entire day filing and typing forms trying to find a few private minutes to call these people and explain what she wanted to know.

Her first call was answered on the second ring by a pleasant-sounding woman who seemed a lot perkier than she would expect a pornographer to sound at 10:00 in the morning. “Ped-a-vids—may I help you?”

“Hi,” Sally hesitated. Where to begin? “I was given your number by M. I was wondering if I could come in and meet you. I have an interest in footwear, you see.” Sally was afraid she wasn’t being very clear. There was so much she wanted to let spill out of her to this friendly woman, but she was afraid that would have been premature.

“Sure! M told us you might be calling. We would love to have you!” gushed the woman. “You can come in today, if you like. We’re shooting something new in about an hour if you would like to watch.”

Sally was completely taken off-guard by her effusive, open manner. She had expected a guarded, gruff exchange that would be full of hidden meaning and vague answers but instead had gotten a greeting worthy of the Beverly Hillbillies. Did she detect a slight Southern twang to the woman’s voice?

She made arrangements to be at the studio in an hour and to have lunch some of the “cast”. It sounded like a lovely afternoon.

to be continued...