Part 4: Lea, Porn is Her Passion

DEAR READER! Since this is a novel, I ask for your understanding that not every chapter is full of sex scenes. After all, characters and plot need to be developed. It is about people with deviant sexual desires, with whom they get along more or less well. They help each other to cope with it, if necessary. There will be just about all deviations! The main character is Lea, a beautiful lesbian professional dancer, who has to give up dancing for health reasons and wants to start a new career as a model on the Internet.

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A film professional helps her with this, and like Lea, he has, amongst others, a very special desire: scat! Every now and then there are scenes in this regard, if it gets too much for you, please click away!

Part 1: Helga, Lea's future mother, as a teenager on the farm. She's so cute with her dear parents, but she follows a sinful plan. Helga will appear again later in the novel.

Part 2: Lea, 14, is crazy about her friends' dirty panties. She even messes with her best friend Greta's family's laundry! But that's not all!

Part 3: Lea masturbated to Gretas poop. Back home, she wants to secretly go to her room and sleep. Unfortunatly, she runs into her mom, Helga, and has to burst out into tears immediately. She confesses everything. But her dear mummy also has some significant confessions to make!

Part 4: Lea invites one of her biggest fans to her home. He is a film professional and is supposed to support her in her new career as a scatmodel on the Internet. He suggests, to do fashion shows and photo shoots instead. But that wonderful woman is just too voluptous for fashion shows!

Only a few references to scat, nevertheless: beware! I hope, You like it, although there are no sex scenes in this chapter.

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"WOW!" is all I can say, as she opens the door.

"Interesting! Are You planning on also speaking english today, or will it be bow-wow all day long?"

"Sorry, I was.. I didn't want to.. it's just because..."

"Yes, okay, sure, come in now. God, if I wanted men, I could have ten on each finger."

"And a hundred on each toe," I reply as I look at her perfect feet in her white Scholl's.

"Ok sweetie, I like you, do you want a beer?"

"I prefer Valerian for coming down. But a beer is good too." She laughs. Good Lord, what a woman. So, her pictures on social media are real. Very often, women post digitally enhanced pictures of themselves, or pictures from their past. Or pictures of their sisters, or what have You?

When you actually meet the woman, You cannot believe Your eyes. And today? Her pictures are great, but she is even more beautiful in real life, she is divine. That never happened to me before. Of course, there's a catch: she's a lesbian.

She hands me the beer bottle. That's okay, I don't need a glass. Since I was a baby, I always finished my bottle. But how could she have guessed that? She sits down on the couch, I take the armchair.

"Well, you got my e-mail, so you already know about me. I need my internet presence to be more professional, as I want to earn money with my clips. And therefore, I need a professional filmmaker. The shit I've done so far.. giggle.. nobody cares anymore.

Today, just presenting your pooping ass is not enough. But I'm short on money. Until recently, I was a professional dancer I earned a lot, then came the no-go from the doctors, my ankles waved the white flag. If I didn't quit, permanent damage would be very likely.

So, with a heavy heart, I quit dancing. Since then I only get small odd jobs, this apartment here eats up most of the pay. But I love living here so much, I don't want to move out. So I'm almost broke, and, as far as your services are concerned, I can't do much."

I look at her dreamily and say "Don't lie to me, I know that You can do a lot, you're actually a real doo-doo expert, I saw it in your clips."

"Sweetheart, you're really funny, I already start to like You. But seriously. How do you think I feel? Man, I'm only 28, can't be true, I loved dancing so much. And now I have to think about how to advertise myself on the Internet."

"Calm down, dear, please. The clips of yours that are on the net today, you shot them yourself, and they're free, right?"

"That's right, it was just a hobby. Because I like to watch other people's films so much, I thought I'd give something back to the community."

"That was very noble of you, but who, for pete's sake, will give ME back the few liters of seed, that I fired out while watching your clips?" She has a fit of laughter, that's good...

"No, seriously now. I know you're a lesbian. In our phone conversation, when you invited me to visit you, you've told me a thousand times. And of course I respect that, and I'm not stupid enough to hit on you, as much as I would like to, because I would probably be out the door very quickly, correct?"

"You bet!"

"Ok, now that this is finally settled, I still must tell You something. And I'll only say that once, now, and then you'll never hear it from me again: I have never seen a more beautiful woman than you in my entire life. I have just confessed to you, how often I relieved myself, while watching your gorgeous ass in action." She's still smiling, okay, so keep going...

But now, that you sit before me in all your glory, I just can't understand why you seriously think, doing scatporn is your only option to make money.

You wrote to me that you had modeling jobs as a child and teenager, why don't you do that again? I could help you with that too. After all, I'm not only a director and cameraman, I've also been a photographer since I was a child.

I've had successful exhibitions, I've been able to sell almost all my stuff. We could create a stellar modeling portfolio. You could do photo shoots and fashion shows, wouldn't that be much better?"

"Oh, that was so sweet of you. But just so you know, lesbian women also like to receive compliments, even from men, if they have style. So, thank you very much for your kind words.

But, as clever as you seem to me to be, you are not quite up to date. When was the last time you were at a fashion show, filming or photographing or just as a spectator?"

"Uhhh, never? I don't care too much about fashion, and I don't like these designer heini's eighter. And from a commercial point of view, there is also too much competition in this area. It makes it easier for me to get assignments elsewhere.

"Aha, and have you photographed models yet?"

"Well, I've done a lot of portraits, but they were mostly actresses, athletes, politicians or just normal people. You know, weddings, corporate parties, business openings and so on."

"I thought so, now watch that." With these words, she gets up, fetches her laptop, and places it open on the arm of my chair so that I can watch the screen. She kneels down next to me and searches for something on the Internet.

Her beautiful fingers scurry across the keyboard. She's 30 centimeters away from me. She smells so good. That face, the boobs! My blood goes from my large head to my small one!! She takes notice!!!

"Just relax, sweetie, you can't help it." She looks at my crotch with a smile. "You are one old flatterer, I don't even do anything." But she doesn't go away. Almighty God, hopefully she'll find what she's looking for soon.

"Now concentrate. Witness a show, that took place two weeks ago in Milan. A friend was there and recorded it." The clip is playing, crowds of people, noise, music, a woman is just leaving the catwalk, so we are in the middle of the show.

Can't be true, what is that? Apparently a woman, but I'm not sure. She stumbles towards the camera on her scrawny stilts. Her shoes must have been made by an orthopaedist. She is made up to look like a corpse found in water.

I'm truly shocked. Lea laughs out loud. The next model wobbles onto the catwalk. This one looks like an undead, her shoes are even more extreme, she doesn't smile, she stares at the audience evilly. Then, we see two more grumpy water corpses. Lea pauses the clip.

"Well, sweetie, how do you like it so far?"

"I'm stunned, just stunned! What time are we living in? When did the zombies come upon us, why didn't I notice it?"

She laughs, "Wait, there's more." She clicks and another clip starts. "It's the same show, but it's a different designer, I'm sure, you'll like that one."

The first one wobbles up. "NO! Was there a carnival in Milan or something like that, she looks like Frankenstein's bride."

"Watch the next girl, she wears my most beloved ensemble." This girl has a gas mask on, and a transparent mesh top, plus pink bloomers like Aladdin, but they only go to her knees. That draws my gaze to her calves, which are shaped like oversized salt-sticks. She wears frog-green clubfoot shoes. I've seen enough. I look at Lea desperately. She stops the clip just as the gas mask girl's top is on screen.

"Well, what do you say, nice, isn't it?" I have to think for a moment about what I just saw, I drink the rest of my beer in one gulp.

"I don't really know where to start. At first, I don't understand the concept. Why, for example, do they stare so angry at the audience? It would never occur to me to look at my customers in a nasty way. I want them to like me, I want them to buy something from me. The zombie woman is supposed to stare angryly at the stupid designer, who dressed her up that way and sent her out!

And why are they so ugly? For me it was like a car accident. No one wants to see that, but everyone has to take a look anyway. They looked so ugly to me, that I couldn't really pay attention to their clothes. To the clothes, that they are supposed to sell. And why the hell would a woman put up with something like that?

And those, should we still call it that, bodies? Not a single girl had decent legs! None of them had an ass in their pants!! Skeletons!!! Even if you pulled one of those girls out of the water soaking wet, it won't weigh more than 45 kilos. They should collect donations for areas where there is famine. But they should definitly not advertise fashion.

And the shoes, those shoes! The women all looked like they had cancer of the hoof!"

"Calm down, sweetie, calm down... You thought I had what it takes to be a model. Yes, in the past, when I was a little girl, no problem. And the shootings for the youth magazines: no problem either. I was a sweet, skinny ballet dancer.

But unfortunately it can no longer work today. I'll prove it to you. Proof number one: I'm too old. Of course there are exceptions like Cindy Crawford, or Kate Moss, but those are exceptions. A modeling career usually starts at 16 and ends at the age of 35 at the latest. I'm 28, you do the math!

Proof number two: I'm too muscular because of the dancing." She tightens her biceps in front of my eyes. Man, I don't ever want to get in serious trouble with her.

"Proof number three: My weight. As you may have already noticed, I do weigh a lot more, than these skelletons, as you called them. And therefore, I do have decent legs, and my pants are properly filled, and I feel perfectly comfortable. For all the money in the world, I would never want to look like one of these girls.

And now, proof number four. But first, the big final question." She nonchalantly points her thumb at the screen, there is still the girl with the mask in her transparent mesh top. "What do you think of her boobs?"

"I'm not thinking about boobs, looking at her. I just can't find boobs at all. If a pygmy mouse could clench its paw into a fist, that fist would be even bigger than one of your tits."

All the while, Lea was kneeling on the floor next to me, a little sunken. But now she straightens her proud upper body and undoes the top two buttons of her blouse. When my gasping breath starts, she closes the buttons again. "Close of argument!"

She picks up the laptop and gets up. "Would you like another beer?"

"Thank you, with pleasure." She brings it to me, sits back down on the couch.

"Look, of course they were some extreme designers, I was writhing with laughter when I saw the clip for the first time. But the models are always like that, they wear something different and present it differently, and sometimes they smile too.

But they are flat girls with pretty faces, but only, if they are allowed, they may show them. And as far as photo shoots are concerned, the majority of girls look exactly like that.

Then curvy models are in fashion lately, but for beeing a curvy model, I'm too thin. And the market for which I would be suitable, swimwear, fitness or something, is too small to to base a livelihood on it.

Believe me, I already thought about everything, god knows, how many times. I know, I could get a job as a receptionist. That would bore me to death.

I would find a job as 'marketing assistant' with ease. With the responsability of hosting the exhibition stand, where one has to flatter potential customers, and where one also has to serve as the CEO's mattress after the final party - no, thank you. I wouldn't do that, even if I would not be queer.

I want my own small business, and the only good idea I could think of was turn my hobby into a profession. I have looked at many paysites. They charge 25 euros for a 20-minute film.

But quite often, these are low budget flics, and some of the actors are such bunglers that I think they only do it for fun, without pay.

And I would do most of the clips myself anyway, and maybe I'll find a nice girlfriend, one who shares my passion. We would have kinky sex anyway.

Why shouldn't we make films about it and then sell them? We would have fun and money at the same time. So what do you think?"

"Of course you need to set up a company, after all you need to pay taxes. You need a stable and highly available IT infrastructure to be able to present and sell your clips.

This includes broadband Internet, virus protection, attack protection, copy protection, all that crap. You need a secure payment transaction system. You need an administrator for all that shit.

You need a content manager who will also make sure that suitable clips of other models come to your site. Because you won't last long with your few finished clips only, and the production of new clips will take some time! You've got to make sure that..."

She's sobbing! I go to her and very carefully I take her in my arms and stroke her gently to calm her down. But that, in turn, doesn't calm me down at all.

"Life used to be easier many years ago", she sniffs. Of course, I haven't told you yet, but my mom used to be in the same situation. Like me today, she had an expensive apartment and little money.

Do you know what she did? She sold her shit to contacts in pornmags. And then my shit as well. And all SHE had to do was to check the receipt of the advance payment. Then she sealed, packed and shipped the stuff.

"Well, I suppose, she had to shit too?"

"You're really funny, I'm crying here and you're kidding me!"

She turns away from me. "Lea, it may have sounded worse than it is. I have my own little webshop, so I needed all that shit too! I know a little bit about it, but my best friend, who owns a small IT company, did most of it.

I'll calculate what we need, and then I'll talk to him. I'm sure he'll give us a super deal. You and I will be focusing on filmmaking. And most importantly, you will be looking for suitable girls. Performing solo is not enough in the long turn! Although you are the most beautiful model in the world."

She wipes the last tears from her face, smiles a little, and kisses me on the cheek." But how am I supposed to pay you?"

"Well, if you weren't a lesbian, it would be very easy." I stare lustfully at her.

"Has anyone ever told you that you were a pig?"

"As far as I remember, no. But there have already been paraphrases." I stretch out my arms and hold out my hands to her, she grabs them warily.

"Don't worry, we'll negotiate my financial stake in the shop as soon as it runs well enough to earn a good living for you.

And that's going to happen, because I have the most beautiful model in the world now.

And every now and then, when I need to have it, you'll pay me in kind."