The Starlet Seduces the Stagehand

With that Jo turned on her bare feet and began to make her way back upstairs, pausing as she realized that Sam wasn't following her. Sam himself stood rigidly at the foot of the staircase, feeling like he had been paralyzed by the sting of a giant wasp and unable to move. Why would Jo Jamieson, one of Hollywood's biggest stars, want him to help her with tasks her assistant would normally do - in her bedroom? Surely if she wanted such assistance she would choose another female. And there was no way Sam's boss would approve of the young employee being alone with a famous actress in her hotel room. Sweat formed on Sam's brow, the young man wiping it away.

Sam of course hadn't been stung by a giant wasp or even a wasp of normal size, but the young man would soon learn quickly that Jo's temperament matched that of a wasp, and her sharp tongue matched its sting. "Are you deaf, Sam?" Jo demanded, her green eyes bearing deep into his blue eyes.

"No Miss Jamieson," stuttered Sam.

"Well why are you standing right there, when I told you to follow me upstairs?"

"I'm not sure I should be going into your room, Miss Jamieson."

Jo regarded the teenager with a somewhat mocking expression. "Now Sam, if you went into my room without permission that would not be fine. I would make sure that you were fired. But I have requested you to come to my room, so therefore it is fine. When I was signed to this project, I was told that I had full cooperation of all staff involved in production. You wouldn't want me to speak to your boss about how you were uncooperative to my simple request, would you Sam?"

The terrified Sam shook his head. "No Miss Jamieson."

"Well then, accompany me upstairs to my room. Come on, I don't have all night."

Jo arrogantly gestured at Sam to follow her upstairs, and Sam fearful of upsetting the actress by getting something wrong and annoying her even more coupled with disbelief that he was actually going to be in famous actress Jo Jamieson's bedroom, followed her upstairs.

The young redhead walked pretty fast on her bare feet up several flights of stairs, and given her skirt came to above her knees, at one stage Sam was unable to prevent himself from seeing a slight glimpse of the white panties that Jo was wearing.

Sam hoped that Jo hadn't noticed that he had seen her panties, as it would be sure to anger her, which wasn't hard to do anyway. Yet at the same time the sight of the white cotton that covered the beautiful young woman's intimate feminine areas had another effect on Sam, and to his horror he could feel his groin expanding in his pants. His fear of Jo Jamieson, her anger and that she could get him fired if he did something wrong managed to get his erection under control, and it was completely gone when the duo reached Jo's bedroom, and she opened her door with her key.

"What do you need me to do, Miss Jamieson?" Sam asked as they went inside the room, and Jo closed the door behind them.

Jo led the still-nervous Sam towards the bathroom, and pointed at the tub. "You're going to run a bath for me, Sam."

This sounded a simple request, and Sam was relieved. "Thank you Miss Jamieson, I'll do it right away."

"I haven't finished instructing you yet," said Jo. "When I take my bath, the water will be the exact temperature between lukewarm and warm. It will be the perfect temperature that I like, and not a degree too hot or a degree too cold. Is that clear, Sam?"

"Yes, Miss Jamieson." Sam should have guessed that with Jo, the task of running a bath for her would not be a simple one. What was the right temperature exactly between lukewarm and warm water? Sam's nervous fingers put the plug in the drain, and turned on the hot and cold taps, hoping that he would get this right.

"I also have a measure of bubble-bath added to my bathwater before I step in," said Jo, indicating the bottle and a measuring cup that sat near the sink. "The measure is to be nine thirteenths of a cap."

"Nine thirteenths?" Sam was most dismayed. He wasn't any good at fractions in school, how was he to know how much nine thirteenths of a cup was? No wonder Nancy had so many headaches if Jo was so demanding and precise about everything.

Jo let out an uncharacteristic laugh. "Sam, relax I'm joking. As if I would ask you to measure nine thirteenths of a cup, what sort of a person do you think I am? I really got you there, didn't I?"

Sam, feeling a bit more relaxed laughed along with the actress, but rapidly stopped when Jo's face switched back to a serious expression and she said, "The correct measure is eight elevenths of a cup." Sam was hoping that she would say once again that she was joking, but she maintained her serious expression, leaving Sam desperately hoping that he could measure the correct amount of bubble-bath.

The water from both taps was running quite slowly and the bath tub was a large one, so it was obviously going to take some time to fully draw the bath. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Miss Jamieson?" Sam asked, hoping that Jo would assign him something easy to do that he wouldn't be able to mess up.

"Yes, you're going to help me learn my lines for tomorrow," said Jo. She quickly dashed into the main hotel room and collected her copy of the screenplay and a second copy for Sam, closing the bathroom door behind herself when she returned.

Sam was a little confused. "Miss Jamieson, wouldn't you prefer to do it in there?"

Jo looked him up and down. "No, we can't do it in there, because the toilet is in here." She pointed at the toilet which sat adjacent to the bath tub, and to Sam's amazement, which quickly changed to horror and panic, Jo stood in front of the toilet and began to lift up her skirt.

"Um, Miss Jamieson, I shouldn't be in here, I need to go, I have to ..." Sam stammered, pacing about with a look of terror on his face and reaching for the door.

"Sam, I told you that you have to help me with my lines for tomorrow," said Jo.

"Yes, but you're going to, you need to ..." Sam tried to form words in his mouth.

Jo smiled. "Sam, relax, I'm just going to sit on the toilet and do the most normal and natural things in the world. There's nothing for you to be uncomfortable or scared about."

Not at all bothered that the stunned Sam was standing right in front of her, Jo fully hitched up her skirt to expose her white cotton full-brief panties. Then hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, Jo pulled them down to her ankles and sat down on the toilet, positioning her bare bottom on the seat so that she was nice and comfortable.

Sam's eyes darted all over the bathroom, the young man not sure of where to look. He had seen things - albeit very briefly - he thought he would never see. As Jo had pulled her panties down, Sam was unable to prevent himself from catching sight of her panty saddle, and the unmistakable creamy colored feminine stains visible there. Then there was the glimpse of the triangle of red pubic hair that covered Jo's feminine mound in abundance, proving that she was indeed a natural redhead. It wouldn't be so awkward if Jo had closed her legs but she was sitting on the toilet with her knees open, her pubic hair and her genitals on fall display, Jo obviously unaware of or unconcerned about the fact that Sam could see her vagina.

Jo began to urinate, the sound of her pee tinkling into the toilet audible over the sound of the bath taps running. Sam tried to drown out the noise but was unable to and the sounds of Jo urinating fully entered his mind, perhaps never to leave.

"Sam, you look so terrified," Jo laughed as she continued to pee. "Stop staring at the ceiling and floor and look directly at me, come on be a brave boy."

Sam looked nervously at Jo, sitting on the toilet with her skirt hitched up around her waist and her panties around her ankles, her bare feet resting on the floor. Jo made no attempt to close her legs, so her red pubic hair and her dark pink vagina remained fully visible. Jo's pee stream abated and Sam could only watched stunned as Jo reached out for the toilet paper, unwound some sheets from the roll and wiped her pussy with them, disposing of the wet tissue into the bowl.

"You still look so scared," said the highly-amused Jo, as she continued to sit on the toilet.

"I shouldn't be in here," said Sam.

"It's lucky you weren't in here with me until two days ago, Sam," laughed Jo. "I was having the monthly thing."

"The monthly thing?" Sam was astounded.

Jo nodded. "Yeah, the monthly thing. My period, the curse, women's problems, my monthly visitor, menstruation, whatever you like to call it." She looked at him quizzically with a mixture of amusement in her expression, her tone taunting. "You know what that is, don't you Sam?"

Sam nodded, his skin turning scarlet. He wished he didn't know about this and he found it hard to believe that a famous Hollywood starlet like Jo Jamieson actually got her period, but obviously she did, she said it herself.

Jo, reveling in Sam's discomfort, then said, "Yes, I think you would have ended up catatonic if you had seen me wearing a sanitary belt and changing my pad, not to mention all the blood."

Sam still was disbelieving about Jo getting her period, and he also could not believe that she would ever need to use the toilet, but obviously she did - she was doing it right in front of him. Sam felt awkward enough about Jo peeing, but when she remained sitting on the toilet to do what she needed to do next, Sam felt quite light-headed and that he might pass out from shock. How could Jo be so shameless about using the toilet to empty her bowels when a man was in the room with her?

Jo unwound some toilet paper from the roll. "Again, you look terrified Sam," she mocked as she wiped herself. "I'm just doing the most natural normal thing in the world."

Sam managed to stammer. "Don't you want to be left in privacy in the bathroom?" He hoped Jo would say yes so he could leave the said bathroom, and have no more memories of what was taking place so far. Given Jo's diva antics on set he already knew he doubted he would able to look at her in movies the same way again, but seeing her while she was on the toilet made sure of it.

Jo laughed even as she casually wiped her most private areas of her body once more. "Sam, when I was born in 1912, you probably imagine it was into a rich family where I grew up in a fancy house with servants, and I got everything I wanted with money no object?"

Due to the way Jo behaved, it had occurred to Sam that perhaps Jo had had a childhood of indulgence and privilege, but of course it seemed impolite to say this aloud. "Um, no," Sam said.

"I think you did think that, I understand why you would think that, but you'd be wrong," said Jo. "I grew up in some nowhere hick town in rural Oregon, the ninth of twelve kids. Our house was old and falling apart, hot in the summer and cold in the winter. I shared a bedroom with my five sisters, three girls in one bed and three in another. We were so poor none of we kids had shoes, so I went barefoot year round. During mealtimes you learned to eat fast, or you didn't eat at all. Worst of all, we only had two cold water taps. One was in the kitchen, and the other in the bathroom - if you can call it a bathroom - which we shared with my aunt and uncle and ten cousins who lived next door. It was some tin shed down the back yard with a rusty old tub and sink, a shower that was just a bucket on a rope and a toilet - not really a toilet just a seat over a can - behind an old curtain full of holes that didn't close properly anyway. Every morning I would have to take some newspaper behind the curtain and the whole time I was there I would have my brothers, sisters and cousins asking me what was taking so long and telling me to hurry up. Getting so little privacy in the bathroom when I was growing up, you can understand that it isn't so important to me now."

Sam stood shocked. Even if exaggerating her impoverished childhood by half, Jo had had it pretty hard as a kid. He thought about how he had seen her eat fast and defensively, and this now made sense if she had to compete with numerous siblings and cousins for limited food as a child. Sam's own childhood had been no picnic - a distant father haunted by his memories of the Great War, an equally distant mother who shared her husband's somewhat bleak outlook on life and constant worries about using limited income to pay the bills, keeping a roof over the family's head and putting food on the table. It had been hard enough in the early-mid 1920s, with things getting even worse when the bottom fell out of the stock market in October 1929. But Sam and his brother and two sisters had never gone to bed hungry, and if compared to Jo's upbringing, Sam and his siblings were closer to Little Lord Fauntleroy than her.

"How did you manage to become an actress?" Sam asked Jo. For the most part, Jo was a straight actress in dramatic films such as Westerns. However, she had been in several musicals and could sing and dance very well. To do these she surely must have had lessons which would have cost money that her family clearly could not have afforded.

Jo shrugged. "I quit school aged 13 and worked like a slave in a laundry which I hated. I'd always wanted a better and more glamorous life and always wanted to be in films. Lucky for me I'm pretty and have more natural talent than most people."

Sam avoided rolling his eyes at the sheer arrogance in Jo's comments, and listened as the actress continued her story.

"When I was 16 the laundry fired me - apparently I was too outspoken and they wanted girls who would do more work for less money and not complain - so I hitched a ride down to LA and worked as a waitress, hoping to get discovered. I had a few jobs as an extra and in bit parts, then managed to get a big part at an audition when I was 19. I haven't looked back since."

"You were lucky," said Sam, knowing that some aspiring actors and actresses never made it in their desired careers.

"Yeah, let's call it luck," said Jo enigmatically. "Anyway, I've left my early life in Oregon behind me, but things still linger. Like I always eat fast, and I'm not bothered about people being with me in the bathroom because I got no privacy growing up. In any case, it's best that you're in the bathroom with me now Sam."

"Why is that?"

"The tub is about to overflow, and I'm obviously in no position to turn off the taps." Jo pointed at the bath tub, which was now nearly full to the rim.

"Oh damn - I mean darn it!" exclaimed Sam, the young man racing to the bath and hastily turning off the taps, Jo laughing as she continued to use the toilet.

"Well, that's one disaster avoided," said Jo. "But we need to work on another, the script. You take the second copy, and pass me mine so you can work on my lines with me."

Sam did as he was told, and he and Jo went through the lines she would need to know for tomorrow's filming. It felt strange to be doing this with the famous Jo Jamieson, much less while she was sitting on the toilet with her skirt around her waist and her panties around her ankles. To Sam it felt like he was in a bizarre dream, and while feeling uncomfortable something was turning him on too, perhaps because it was so forbidden? Jo sitting with her legs apart, showing off her pubic hair and her vagina was definitely one thing, and seeing the delicate feminine stains originating from the private areas between Jo's legs on her panties were another, and Sam had to try and concentrate on not getting an erection.

Jo's face registered distaste at one of her character's corny, badly-written lines. "I can't believe I actually have to say that nonsense," she said, putting aside the screenplay and unwinding herself some toilet paper from the roll. Again, she laughed as she held up the screenplay in one hand and her toilet tissue in the other. "Now, in a perfect world the script would be my toilet paper and the toilet paper would be this script, but it's not a perfect world so we just have to make the most of it."

Again seemingly not bothered by Sam's presence, Jo used this length of toilet paper, then unwound several more lengths to finish. The redhead stood up off the toilet, reached up and pulled the chain to flush the toilet and pulled up her panties, adjusting them around her pussy and her bottom before pulling down her skirt. Walking over to the sink Jo gave her hands a thorough wash and turned her attention to the bath. "Don't forget my bubble-bath," said Jo.

"Sorry, Miss Jamieson," said Sam, letting some water out given how full the tub was and mixing in the bubble-bath, hoping the volume was to Jo's approval like the water temperature.

Jo removed her sweater to show she was wearing a plain white blouse underneath, and this soon came away to show her white brassiere. Jo then removed her skirt and stepped out of it, leaving her barefoot and wearing only her bra and panties.

Sam tried not to stare, but it was hard not to look at her perfect body wearing only underwear, Jo's pretty face and beautiful red hair accentuating her beauty. Feeling an erection forming in his underpants, while Sam did not want to leave he thought he should ask and said, "Miss Jamieson, wouldn't you prefer to undress and bathe alone?"

Jo laughed. "Sam, you've seen me using the toilet, so I think I'm okay for you to see me undressing, naked and having a bath. Anyway, I need you in here to help me with something else."

"Do you need me to help you with more lines?" Sam asked.

Jo unhooked her bra from behind, the clasp coming apart to show her perfect, firm C-cup breasts, Jo's dark pink nipples standing out from the fair skin of her bosom. "No, something else, you'll see."

Jo was now only wearing her panties, but this wasn't for long as the actress pulled them down to her ankles and stepped out of them, leaving her completely naked. Sam's erection problems were not helped by Jo's state of complete nudity, her perfect breasts, flat stomach with cute navel and perfect triangle pubic hair were on display. Even when Jo turned around this didn't help Sam's cause as he could now see her firm, peach-shaped bare bottom, and things got even worse when Jo bent over to pick up her panties from the bathroom floor.

With her legs apart, Sam got a very good view of Jo's vagina as she picked her panties up off the floor, and when the cheeks of her bare bottom parted he got to see a part of her body even more private than her vulva - the tight, starfish shape of her anus. For any 18-year-old boy seeing a beautiful naked 24-year-old woman right in front of him about to take a bath controlling his erection was a task as impossible as they come, and so it proved for Sam. The young man had to walk awkwardly to cover what looked like a tent in the front of his pants, and he hoped that Jo would not notice his predicament.

Jo seemed to notice nothing. The nubile, completely nude redhead dipped the toes of one of her pretty bare feet into her bathwater, and turned to Sam. "Well done Sam, you have managed to run my bath at the exact temperature I like. Well done."

"Thank you Miss Jamieson," said Sam.

Jo entered the bath but did not immerse herself in it, remaining standing up. Sam watched as the actress cupped her hands in the warm, bubbly water and used it to wash her genitals, Sam's penis taking a mind of its own totally independent from the young man as he saw Jo's triangle of red pubic hair covered in soap and bubbles. Jo got more water to apply to her vagina, then a third handful which she used to wash between her buttocks and around her anus, Sam seeing this courtesy of the reflection of a bathroom mirror. Sam felt increasingly light-headed, possibly because of the way his heart was pounding in his chest and the vast quantities of blood flowing to his groin.