Pretty Polly Nylons

Now, could you tug them down further...just a little...yea, that's just great. You're so good...you're a natural."

And so it went on and on. He manipulated me like a puppet on a string. Eventually, he took my picture in every possible position, and, like a fool, I let him. I was stark naked and doing exactly what he asked. I was lost in my own little world of being a photographic model and reaming in huge amounts of money. Eventually, he called a halt. "You have a fantastic body, Vickie, I'm sure you've got a great future ahead of you. Just leave it to me and we'll have you moving in the best circles in no time at all."

And, before I knew it, I was walking home, my mind filled with my silly dreams of fame and fortune. I was Vickie Cooper, top model and the toast of the town.

He said he would get in touch me shortly and he was true to his word. In fact, he was knocking on my door two days later. With a shock I opened the door to him. It was early and I still wasn't properly dressed after a shower.

"You know I don't like you coming here," I hissed at him. "I have very curious and gossipy neighbours. And if my husband gets to know a man has been here he'll go hairless."

"The jealous type is he, your other half?"

"You'd better believe it" I said puffing on my cigarette, it was my third that morning.

"And is he violent?"

"It has been known" I confirmed..."Look why the hell are you here, it had better be good news."

"Yes, it's good news alright" he grinned, breezing past me into the lounge and settling back into our luxury sofa.

"I'll tell you all about that once you've fixed me up with a nice drink of coffee." He added.

I grumbled as I went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. I was wearing my shortie house coat that morning and I wish I had been more suitably dressed. As I gave him his drink and sat down opposite I couldn't seem to get any cover over my legs.

"Well," I asked impatiently as he looked me over. "What have you got to tell me?"

"First of all I'll show you these" he smirked as he laid out half dozen photos of me on the coffee table.

I gasped in shock and disbelief as I looked open mouthed at them. By any standards, these shots of me were dirty and obscene, I couldn't believe it.

"These are just great, don't you think" he grinned.

"They're positively disgusting" I spluttered.

"What do you think your husband will do when he sees these?"

"He'll break every fucking bone in my body, that's what he'll do," I exclaimed in dismay. "Why? You're not going to..."

"It all depends on you," he said licking his lips. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?"

Then with a blinding flash I saw it all. He had set me up. There were no fucking clients. There was no cash or modelling contract. There was just gullible Vickie Cooper, the dizzy blonde with big tits and long legs lusted after by every freak and pervert in town. I had walked willingly into his trap, stripped off and posed for him. And now he was reeling me in like a floundering fish. There would have to be a price paid for my folly and I had a sinking feeling that I knew what it was.

"What do you want," I muttered weakly.

"Well, take off that house coat and whatever's underneath for a start" he said confidently.

"And if I don't?" I tried.

"Well let's see," he mused, enjoying himself at my expense. "First of all I'll see that a few copies of these are distributed around your husband's place of work. Your name and address will of course be suitably included on the back of each one so that no one is in any doubt as to whom you are"

He didn't need to say what came second or third. I was beaten and he knew it.

"You bastard," was all I could say.

"I'm waiting" he said pleasantly drumming his fingertips on the arm of the sofa.

I heard the clock ticking, but, I was just delaying the inevitable. So, I stood up slowly and unfastened my belt to let my white robe slither down my back and onto the floor.

He whistled appreciatively as he viewed my sexy nightdress. There wasn't much of it and he ordered me to take it off. I had been naked for him before, of course, but, that had been as a model (or so I had supposed) Now it was different, this time, because, lust was clearly on the agenda.

"I think we'll have an hour on the bed upstairs" he told me, "just to get to know each other a little better."

"Those photos," I said pointing on the ones on the coffee table, "you must..."

"Don't worry Vickie" he said scooping them up and shoving them into his briefcase, "as long as you do what you are told they won't be a problem for you"

"In the meantime, I'll follow you up the stairs."

I sighed in defeat and walked slowly up the stairs ahead of him. The consequences of my situation were only now sinking in. I was about to have sex with a stranger who literally held my life in his hands. My husband often knocked me about for all sorts of reasons, but, if he ever saw those photos he would..."

"Nice arse!" commented Harry as I walked slowly ahead of him. "I can see we are going to get on just fine"

As we went into the bedroom, all I could do was stand there and let him paw me as the tears rolled down my cheeks. He stood me over the bed, legs apart, with my hands on the covers and my bum in the air. Then he slowly smoothed his hands up my legs, over my bum and up against my pussy. "Keep crying Vickie," he growled "you're giving me such a hard on."

When he had finished feeling, kissing and fondling every inch of my body he allowed me to lie on the bed with him on top. "It's time for our first fuck" he informed me as he spread my legs and eased his big cock into my little sexual sanctuary.

I closed my eyes, as the implication of what he was saying sent a shudder through my body. Then he was spearing me up to the hilt and taking full possession of my blonde haired cunt. He grunted every time he thrust his cock into me, time after time after time.

"Stupid little tart" he hissed "I'm going to shag the arse off you."

And do you know what, it hit me then that I was getting exactly what I deserved. Silly little blonde bimbos like me were put on this earth for precisely this purpose, to please men and get fucked as often as possible.

Well, Harry certainly fucked me good that Thursday morning. In fact he did it twice, once on top and once from behind "doggie style" while tears of shame ran down my face. When he left me, I was a wreck. I had sperm all over my legs and tummy and my usually immaculate blonde hair was such a mess. I looked at myself in the full length mirror and realised that I was looking at a total slut. That realisation made me sprawl out on the bed and cry for ages. Only the thought of Mike coming in from work made me pull myself together and have a shower. My life had just taken a turn for the worse.

Now every week, I have to meet Harry at some place or other. He fucks me silly of course, but I have no choice in the matter. He even has tapes of us fucking to add to the blackmail tab. When he told me that, I knew there was no going back. There is no hope for me now and I am very firmly under his control. Fortunately, he has agreed not to come to my house any more. It's just too risky and I suspect he wants our little "arrangement" to go on indefinitely. Now we do it in all sorts of places; the back seat of his car, down dirty alleyways and cheap hotel rooms. Anywhere, in fact. And to add insult to injury, he has sold my photos to various clients of his and made a pile of money. He has even told me that he intends to hire me out to a couple of them. When he mentioned that, I couldn't stop shaking for hours. I hope he never gets round to it, but, I know in my heart that sooner or later, it will happen. The money will be too much of a temptation for him.

Not that I'll see any of it, of course, my role is just to make my body available to him for sex whenever he wants it. He doesn't know it, but these days, he gets more of my pussy than my husband and I have to confess he makes a damn better job of it too.

Well I won't bore you any further with my sordid little tale. I'm sure there is a moral in this little story somewhere for all pretty young married blondes like me. The dizzy and stupid ones I mean. And, if I ever work it out I'll be sure and let you know.

THE END