Party Favor Pt. 02

"Yeah, so she finally spoke and simply told me to strip, then left the room. I'd just finished taking my clothes off when she returned with this massive black strap-on mounted on a harness! She had a bottle of lube and was getting it nice and shiny. At first I wondered why she needed lube after how wet I already was, but she ordered me onto my hands and knees and I realized where she wanted to put it. I really like anal, so I wasn't too worried, but her strap-on was bigger than any cock I've ever taken. She took her time getting me ready, tonguing my ass for a while, then fingering it and coating it with lube. I still was in doubt when she started to try to push that monster into me. It took all my will to relax and let the tip in, which had a big fat head. Once that stretched me wide and entered, the rest actually slipped in fairly easily. It still took her a couple of minutes of pumping to get it deep into me, but once she did, she fucked my ass like a demon! I can cum from anal and with this monster dildo I must have had two or three orgasms without her touching my clit once!"

It was too much, in the middle of Samantha's dirty story I came. Angela's knickers were too small to really muzzle my moans, but I bit on them to stifle noises from emerging. Despite my efforts, a couple of pitiful squeaks still made it out. So there I was, having another sweet orgasm while listening to my best friend tell me a story about her getting fucked in the ass by a lesbian with a strap-on, while I held the soiled panties of another woman in my mouth. If I wasn't at least bisexual now, I didn't know what I was. All my repressed sounds transformed into body movements, and I thrashed and twitched violently through a large climax and series of smaller after-shocks. They went on forever, it felt like.

"Michelle? Michelle!?"

"Pfftt. Oh, sorry, I was... just... I forgot," I exclaimed, trying not to breathe too heavily after I spit Angela's underwear out of my mouth. How long had Samantha been calling my name? Where had her story stopped? "I dropped the phone and was folding laundry."

Yeah right, it was a pathetic excuse. She had to know what I was doing. I blushed. Had I just tricked my best friend into phone sex?

"Oh, okay. You are alright? You just were silent and I was getting carried away. Anyway, I should go. If I keep this up I'm going to need to masturbate myself just thinking about it again. If you really want I can finish the story some other time."

"I'm great. I'm good if you have to go... it was very... entertaining. Just what I needed to... distract... me. Thanks!"

"Okay, don't let that stupid call girl agency get you down! I know you have a big role coming soon! Love you!"

I hung up the phone and lay in bed, feeling even more horrible about myself as a person in counterpoint to how good my body felt.

-----

The rest of that night was a total waste. More fitful masturbation followed by failed attempts to throw away or wash Angela's thong. I couldn't summon the energy to try to find a man to come over and satisfy me. Everywhere my mind went led to dark places full of anxiety. Was I a lesbian? Was I really about to become a whore?

The next morning I felt better, or at least more at peace with the possibility that I might be a lesbian and a whore. Olivia had texted me about a spa appointment to get waxed and that gave me something to do in the morning. It was painful, but every last bit of hair below my waist was removed, including my ass. I'd never had such a complete and thorough waxing and I had to admit it was kind of sexy. That led to more exploration of my baby smooth anatomy when I got home.

Amy, my now former agent, called me while I was studying my privates in a mirror. I was wondering if it was normal to get aroused at the sight of your own genitalia when she shocked me back to reality. I had not told her yet that I signed with ACA.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"So are you going to call to fire me, or am I too unimportant for an ACA star?" she joked.

"I'm so sorry Amy, I was about to call you but things were moving so fast," I apologized, knowing I sounded incredibly lame. She should have been my second call, after Starbucks, yesterday afternoon.

"The paperwork showed up this morning! I was a bit surprised, to say the least. Angela Clarke, huh?"

"Yes, do you know of her?" I was curious.

"Just by reputation. She focuses on developing young talent and has had some well known successes. She always hands them off to another partner at ACA after they make it big," answered Amy. "How did you land her?"

"She reached out to me actually," I explained, unsure how to position this. Amy had a great bullshit detector. "Do you remember Beginning of the End? She somehow saw it and liked my acting." Amy knew that film well; clips from it made up the bulk of my talent reel that she sent out to casting execs.

"Hmm. I see. Well that is fantastic luck then!" Amy answered. Perhaps she sensed I wasn't being forthright, but she knew better than to press. "Just a word of advice, if you'll still take it from me. Be careful. I don't know her at all, but I know the industry. I'm sure there are hundreds of girls she signed that didn't become stars and we've just never heard of. Not saying she does this, but don't let her use you up, suck you dry, and discard you. Some agents sign girls like you just to pawn them out as party favors, on the promise of roles, but have no real interest in your career."

How would Amy feel if I told her that, quite the opposite, Angela was paying me ludicrous amounts of money to explicitly be a prostitute? Even if she never delivered on stardom, I'd still make a pretty penny. Her words did chill me however, maybe all this ACA stuff was part of a ruse to ensure my silence. What if all she wanted from me was my body and willingness to please? Still, it was no worse than my current life where, unbeknownst to Amy, I whored myself out for a chance of roles without getting paid.

"Thanks Amy. You've really helped me, and I'm not a the innocent girl from Illinois anymore. I know what to watch out for."

Amy wished me well and urged me to stay in touch. I gladly assured her I would, as I missed her maternal influence already.

-----

Olivia texted me shortly afterwards with the address of a boutique in Beverly Hills. She wanted to meet me there in thirty minutes and that set off a guilty frenzy of getting ready to make it on time. I was still naked and finally about to begin a more sensual exploration of my ultra smooth anatomy, but I hurriedly got dressed instead.

After a couple of outfit changes, I settled on an easy to remove dress under the assumption that I'd be trying on clothing. I slipped a slim thong on underneath and decided to go braless, as this particular dress had a bit of support in the form of a halter top. What it hid in cleavage, it made up for by revealing ample sideboob. A strapless bra was shoved into my tote in case I needed needed it for other outfits.

"You must be Michelle, I'm Sofia," greeted the attractive Latina who unlocked the door for me. Sofia's store was one of those high-end private boutiques I'd heard about, so exclusive that it had no external signs and opened for appointments only. It was upstairs in a nondescript building off Rodeo Drive, the space itself just a high-ceiling loft illuminated brightly with large skylights. The decor was spartan, with bare white walls and a handful of wheeled metal clothing racks scattered about. A three panel changing screen was in one corner of the room, next to some white leather couches.

"Angela gave me your measurements, so everything I've selected should be within your range," Sofia said, beckoning me deeper into the room. "Would you like some wine? I have a great rosé that you might enjoy. Oh, and Olivia is on her way and should be here shortly."

I smiled my acceptance of her offer and started looking at the racks with unrestrained interest. How did Angela get my measurements? Was this how she expected me to dress? The boutique was a shopping fantasy beyond anything I could have dreamed of, although I was worried about who was going to pay for what I bought here. The fact that the beautiful Sofia had picked out all these beautiful pieces just for my consideration made me want to carefully examine each one, and I certainly didn't want to offend her!

Sofia was lovely, indeed, I couldn't help but notice as she bent to pour my glass of wine at a low table by the couches. She wore a tiny white dress and, despite a pair of tall and white heels, barely came up to my nose in height. Her body was curvy, despite her small stature, with an ample bosom that was highlighted by the tight cut of her outfit. As she walked back to me with a generous smile, I realized I was checking her out more than the clothing, and I fought back a blush as I forced my attention back to the racks.

"Do you see anything you like?" Sofia asked as she handed me the rosé.

"Yes," I answered, forcing myself to stay focused on the clothing racks instead of her creamy complexion and beguiling hazel eyes.

These last twenty four hours had been rough on me and I fought to clear my head of the strange thoughts that kept intruding. I wasn't a lesbian, I repeated in my head for what felt like the thousandth time. At best I was bisexual, but regardless I still shouldn't be ogling the saleswoman at a high-end boutique. I wasn't some horny slut that couldn't control my urges anytime I happened to be alone with a pretty woman. I didn't even swoon for hot guys like this. Shit, I was swooning for her, I realized in horror.

What the fuck was wrong with me?!

I was just frazzled, I rationalized, and overly sensitive about everything right now. I took a sip of my wine and tried to regain my composure. I idly flipped through some of the outfits with Sofia hovering at my side. She began to talk, telling me about the designers and her ideas of why a certain dress, or top, might be a good fit for my body. I focused on the shopping, not the gorgeous woman helping me. She knew her stuff and clearly had picked every garment with an eye towards my build and curves. The designers I recognized were all very expensive, as in thousands of dollars for an item, and I began to panic. There were no prices anywhere and I made non-committal noises of interest as I started to worry about what this afternoon might cost me.

How could I leave and still save face? Could I just admit that I had no money?

"I'm a bit worried I underestimated your bust size," said Sofia, after showing me a low cut red dress that I would definitely be spilling out of. She motioned towards her own chest, drawing my eyes helplessly to her mounds. "I think you are nearly as full as I am."

"Yes, perhaps," I mumbled back, tearing my eyes away from her after realizing I was sizing her chest up a bit more than truly necessary. "I always struggle with bras and getting a good fit."

"I'm great at bra fitting and I think you'll love the lingerie I've picked out as well. We can find something that would work well for you over here," said Sofia, her smile a bit mischievous. Behind the rack I stood at was another one that at first glance I had assumed was empty. I realized now that that the diaphanous and tiny bits of fabric that hung from it were just difficult to notice from a distance. "Like the dresses, I think I have your size right, but I do have additional sizes in the back if I've chosen wrong."

I found myself walking to that rack of naughty items as if in a daze. I love sexy underwear, but could never afford to buy much on my barista's salary. The silk, satin, and lace on display almost made me swoon as much as Sofia's beguiling presence had earlier. My fingers felt an embroidered and nearly translucent chemise tentatively, as if my very touch might rip it to pieces. I swallowed drily as I found a pair of silk stockings with lace tops that reminded me of Angela.

"These Wolford's are a classic staple. Angela said you needed some basics," said Sofia, her hand reaching out to rub the soft and sheer fabric next to mine, our fingers touching inadvertently. I found my eyes locking with the Latina's own hazel orbs, which mesmerized me as she spoke in her sultry, low voice. "There is nothing that feels better than a pair of sexy stockings on a woman. Nothing."

"Sorry I'm late," called out Olivia. I hadn't heard the door open as I was so lost in Sofia's eyes, but it now slammed shut with a loud crash that made me startle. Shocked out of my reverie, I spun to give the mousy girl a friendly smile and take a deep breath to clear my mind. Her long brown hair was pulled into a casual ponytail, but her outfit of a short skirt and silk blouse made it appear as if she'd come straight from the office.

Sofia and Olivia seemed well acquainted and traded cheek kisses. Olivia regarded me for a long couple of seconds, her blue eyes inscrutable. Just as I considered offering her my hand in a formal greeting, she nodded, flashed me a brief smile, and reached out to give me a hug and a kiss as well.

"Now, let's get you properly fitted up. Sofia... the lingerie rack already! Really?"

Olivia gave Sofia a reprimanding look and nodded for me to follow her back to the regular clothing.

"Angela said you needed a cocktail dress for the party, so let's choose that first. She also recommended you get at least one other suitable dress in case you have to meet a patron on short notice," Olivia said, flipping through the clothes brusquely. "We can do the lingerie at the end."

"Patron?"

"Of course, that's the whole point," said Olivia. She looked at Sofia warily, then continued in a softer voice. "The parties are fun, but for your career, you need a mentor, maybe even more than one depending on the situation. Finding a patron should be your primary objective, although it rarely happens instantly."

Angela had referenced a patron yesterday, but I'd assumed that the parties would be my only morally ambiguous task. The way Olivia described patrons made it sound like I'd have to continue my whorish functions outside the monthly parties and in the form of a personal relationship. My head was spinning, and I wanted to ask Olivia a hundred more questions, but her body language made it clear that we shouldn't discuss such matters in front of Sofia, so I bit my tongue.

"I see," I replied and then nodded eagerly at a short, black over-the-shoulder dress that Olivia held up for my inspection. The black cocktail dress was a standard piece of wardrobe for most women, but this one was much more expensive and better cut than the similar dresses I owned. "Should I try it it on?"

Olivia nodded at my question, but pulled the dress away when I reached for it, and simply said, "I can hold it for you."

I looked at her quizzically, and then glanced towards the changing screen in the corner to show her my intent.

"Oh, it's just us girls here. You don't need to use that, do you?" Olivia said, a hint of annoyance in her tone. The way she had said "us girls" sent a shiver down my spine. Her toe tapped impatiently. Olivia had seen me naked already, so I could handle her eyes, but Sofia was here as well.

I glanced at the shorter woman nervously. She was another woman, so I shouldn't care, right? Yet, I felt a little strange at the idea of her seeing me nearly naked, especially given where my thoughts had just wandered while staring at her earlier.

"Most of my clients just change out here. It's quicker when you need to try on a lot of outfits," Sofia replied with a casual shrug, as if it was no big deal.

"Fine," I answered with my own attempt at a confident smile. I felt like a prude suddenly for even hesitating. I'd been forced to expose myself in front of much larger audiences during photo shoots and while on movie sets, including men, so this shouldn't be a big deal. Yet, there was a nervous tingle that raced through my body as I untied the halter string around my neck in front of these two women, both of who were studying my body with open interest. Were those normal looks or was my hyperactive mind imagining something more prurient in their gaze?

Fuck it.

I grabbed the hem of my dress, pulled it up and off my body. I felt my breasts drop down with a satisfying bounce as they pulled free of the tight top portion. Sofia took the garment and hung it immediately at the end of the rack.

"Isn't she lovely?" commented Olivia to Sofia, as she studied my nearly naked body again. I started to reach for the black dress, but Olivia didn't seem to be in a hurry to hand it over, so I relaxed and stood patiently as they both inspected my body. If they wanted to ogle me, I would show them that I didn't care.

"Gorgeous. Her breasts are bigger than I expected. And they are natural," Sofia answered, nodding appreciatively. "Her muscles are so defined, look at her stomach. Delightful! Those shoulders could be a problem, though, quite broad and we'll have to alter the backs of her dresses. Her thighs we need to work around as well, for jeans and for shorter dresses."

I flushed under their scrutiny, which at least seemed tangentially related to fitting me for clothing. Everybody, including the guys I hooked up with, always assumed my breasts were fake and I was used to amazement when people discovered they were real, so those words didn't bother me.

Sofia's other comments made me simmer, though. I was a crossfit instructor, so my body was way more toned and muscular than a typical woman's, but Sofia's words lasered in on the two parts of my body that I was always self-conscious about, my broad shoulders and my muscular thighs. My shoulders conspired with my boobs to stretch outfits tight and I hated the way they looked in a strapless top. My thighs were a bit large, I agreed, but the toned ass that matched them more than made up for their size, in my opinion at least!

"I'm sorry, but I can't exactly shrink my shoulders and thighs," I said, annoyance creeping into my voice.

"I'm not insulting you," Sofia soothed, giving me a friendly smile. She reached out and stroked my hip lightly. That felt nice. "You are beautiful, dear. I'm just thinking out loud about how to dress you the best. Every body is different, for instance skinny and slender like Olivia has its own problems. And my body, well, let's just say I can't wear anything without some major alterations!"

I was mollified and ready to apologize, when Olivia handed me the dress. Sofia helped me pull it on, zipped up the half-back, and then smoothed and adjusted the tight fabric around my body as she stood behind me. Olivia wheeled over a floor length mirror and positioned it in front of me.

"Amazing," I said, almost breathless in excitement. It was a simple outfit, but I'd never owned anything as nice in terms of quality. It fit me like a glove and I impulsively twirled, watching the short hem rise and the gores spin with my motion.

"Good. Let's definitely get this one," Olivia said. "Sofia, do you want to mark it up?"

"Yes, her chest and ass just don't pair with a waist this thin for any standard size," Sofia said with a a touch of admiration. I honestly didn't think it needed any alterations, but then again I was used to wearing clothes off the rack and living with rather poor fits. Sofia held me still and began to make marks on the dress with some chalk, evidently wanting to loosen it slightly around my chest. She also placed some pins to pull the waist in a bit. It did look slightly better in the mirror, with no loose fabric at my hips when I bent or twisted.

"Good, let's try on a couple of more," said Olivia, waving at me to take off the black dress. I hastily complied and followed Olivia around the room in just my thong and heels.

"Umm, how am I going to afford any of this?" I asked Olivia softly in private. Sofia had disappeared to stow the black dress in some back room.