Standing before the full-length bedroom mirror, I treated my reflection to an almost unjustly critical appraisal. My indecently short black leather dress clung for dear life to my every curve and went perfectly with my high heels, whorish fishnets and black leather jacket. It was the sixth outfit I had tried on in the last hour and the bed behind me was strewn with those I had already rejected as not quite right. For this, the most important interview of my life, I wanted to look as perfect as possible.

For once, I was glad Louise was on assignment for Erotimax films. She would have been very suspicious of my story of an appointment with a modeling agency and if she had any idea of what I was really up to, all hell would break loose. In the beginning, I had been flattered by my lover's possessiveness, taking it as a sign that she treasured me. That was before she gave up her job as a waitress, to embark on a career in porn movies. She made no secret of the fact that she loved her work. Whenever I criticized it, she took great pleasure in detailing who she had fucked or been fucked by before the cameras that day. Despite her unashamed promiscuity, if I were to even look at another girl, she would fly into a jealous rage. Our six-month relationship was becoming too much like hard work, but I lacked the courage to end it.

Forcing all thoughts of Louise from my mind, I decided I looked fine. Whatever our difficulties, I was not about to let the jealous bitch ruin my appointment with destiny.

'Some people call me a groupies' agent, but that sounds so sleazy. I prefer to think of myself as providing an entertainment liaison service.'

The peroxide blonde in the smart scarlet suit was making what sounded like the standard speech for prospective candidates wishing to join Star-Connexions. Her name was Mandy.

'I pride myself on matching stars with suitable fans and moving beyond the cliched groupie image of stagedoor queens throwing themselves at the feet of their idols,' she continued. 'Having worked in showbusiness for several years, I know the requirements of the people I am dealing with and they know they can rely on my discretion.'

'Basically, you select fucks for the stars,' I grinned.

The glare in Mandy's blue eyes suggested she was far from impressed by my attempted witticism.

'Are you sure you're not working for some sleazy tabloid rag?' she demanded.

'You've done enough preliminary checking to know the answer to that,' I replied. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be crude.'

She glared for another moment, then returned her attention to the application form on her desk. 'You describe yourself as a devoted fan of Tamella Van Diemen. The question is, just how devoted?'

I smiled. 'I've been president of her fan club for the past three years. Seen her nineteen times. I was one of the chosen few at her very first show, in Rubberta Flax club. My home is a shrine to her. I've got everything she ever recorded. Bootlegs, rare imports, promos, you name it. Let me show you something.'

Standing up, I turned around and tugged my clingy black dress up over my hips. My skimpy black lace panties had ridden up into the cleft of my ass, leaving creamy half moons exposed. Tattooed on my left cheek was a luridly colored image of the guitar toting rock vixen, thundering through the fires of Hell astride a saddled and harnessed figure with huge breasts and an equally impressive cock. Below the scene, the letters TvD were described in blood red gothic script.

'Very nice,' Mandy commented, leaning back in her chair. 'But Tamella has many similarly devoted followers.' She swung her right foot up onto her desk. 'Make believe I am your goddess. Show me the depths of your devotion.'

Having been half-expecting such a request, I was only too glad to oblige. Bending over the desk, I kissed the pointed toe of her stiletto-heeled shoe. The shiny red leather was an almost identical shade to my lipstick and smelled intoxicating. I licked the sole, sucked the lethally sharp heel, then roamed my tongue slowly up her shapely, pale silk stockinged ankle. She was sitting in such a position that I had a tantalizing view up her short skirt. At the sight of a white lace panty crotch, I felt the swelling in my own panties become more urgent.

When my adoring tongue reached her knee, Mandy seized a fistful of my shoulder length raven black hair and led me around to her side of the desk.

'So, this isn't a wig!' she smiled.

'What you see is what you get,' I answered, dropping to my knees at her feet.

She smiled. 'I should certainly hope not, Justine. Tamella would not be impressed.'

I knew exactly what she meant. I removed her shoes by gripping the heels between my teeth, then made love to her silk stockinged feet with my mouth. Though she retained her tight grip on my hair, she did not manipulate me in any particular direction. There was no need. We both knew where I was going.

My tongue glided over her long legs, rasping softly against the silk. The feel of the fabric and the heat of the lightly tanned flesh beneath was electrifying. As I finally neared my mouth-watering goal, Mandy raised her bottom from the chair and eased her skirt down over her slender hips. After I had pulled it the rest of the way off, she drew up her knees and hooked her heels in the arms of the chair, lewdly displaying herself for my pleasure. Her white G-string panties were plastered to the soaking mound of her sex, leaving little to the imagination.

'Come on bitch, eat me!' she purred, wrenching on my hair.

No point trying to pretend any longer that she was Tamella. Second best she might be, but her feminine love musk was still intoxicating. I sucked and kissed her through her panties, before boldly ripping the crotch with my teeth.

'Hey, watch it doggy!' she snapped, dealing me a stinging slap across the face with her free hand.

'Sorry,' I mumbled.

Thrusting her crotch against my face, she commanded me to, 'shut up and make me cum!'

For the next ten minutes, my tongue was buried in Mandy's hot slit, while I lapped and slurped noisily on her copiously flowing nectar. Her clit throbbed like a miniature cock and was sufficiently prominent for me to grip between my lips and suck, just like it were the real thing. She responded by squealing in ecstasy and thrusting against my face, as though intent on ramming her little 'lady cock' down my throat..

By the time I finally rose from the feast, my face was slick with her juices and my lipstick smeared over my chin. Now, it was Mandy's turn to pleasure me. Her ruby glossed mouth looked capable of working magic, but she chose to use her feet instead. Without rising from her chair, she hooked her right foot in the hem of my dress and hiked it up to my waist. My panties could scarcely contain the tumescence of my cock.

'Don't be shy, let's have a look,' she said, softly. 'Hmmm, not bad, though hardly the stuff of wet dreams. Lucky for you Tamella isn't a size queen. Get your tits out.'

While I duly unzipped my fringed and studded black leather jacket and rolled my dress up above chest level, Mandy squashed my stiff cock between my belly and the sole of her foot. For this special occasion, I had decided not to wear a bra. Proudly, I exposed my pert, firm breasts, a small gold ring glinting in both stiff nipples. Next to going to Tamella's very first show, starting the hormone treatment had been the best decision of my life. Perhaps one day, finances and courage permitting, I would go the whole way to womanhood.

Mandy hooked a finger of each hand in my rings and forced me to lean forward, so that our faces were only inches apart. At the same time, she moved her foot slowly up and down, in a masturbatory shuffle.

'So, you think you've got what it takes to be Tamella's plaything?' she purred.

'Oh God, I hope so!' I gasped. 'There's nothing in the world I want more than to please her. I would do anything for her.'

Mandy smiled, increasing the cock crushing pressure of her foot. 'Anything?'

I nodded. 'Absolutely. I'll be her slave, her dog, her fuckslut, her toilet. For her pleasure, no sacrifice would be too great.' I shuddered violently. 'Ahhhhhh.. . I'm cumming!'

My cock trembled and thick globs of cream spewed over her foot. She continued to pump me until every last drop was spilled, then ordered me to kneel and clean up the mess I had made. Only when all trace of semen had been sucked from her stocking was I permitted to stand up again. Audition completed, it was back to business.

'Last chance to change your mind,' said Mandy, zipping up her skirt.

'No chance,' I replied. 'I worship Tamella. Nothing could give me greater

pleasure than to prove my devotion. You're not going to tell me I'm not good enough, are you?'

'Just making sure,' she answered. 'I've already drawn up a contract, on Tamella's behalf. The terms are non-negotiable. Once you sign, there's no turning back.'

I studied the document she handed to me, my eyes making straight for the terms and conditions.

'Tamella is one of my most valued clients,' Mandy explained. 'Should you fail to live up to expectations, or displease her in any way, she will instruct me to punish you in the manner of her choosing. I must stress that she is an extremely demanding mistress and I am an expert in administering pain. Unless you are a hardcore masochist, you would be well advised to tread carefully. Any questions?'

'Got a pen?'

I returned home, late that evening, braced for a confrontation with Louise. I had no intention of telling her where I would be tomorrow night and had still not managed to conceive a credible excuse.

My lover was home, but not alone. Seated on the couch, sipping a glass of red wine, was a slender and strikingly attractive girl, with closely cropped blonde hair. Though she was wearing makeup and high heels, the bulge in the crotch of her cream silk body stocking left no doubt as to her true gender. It was bad enough that Louise should taunt me with details of her infidelities, but bringing a lover home to my apartment was the last straw.

'Who are you?' I demanded.

'Chris,' the blonde replied, not in the least bit nonplussed by my arrival. 'I'm a friend of Louise.

'Where is she?'

'In the shower.'

Before I could utter another word, the girl in question strolled into the room, a towel slung casually over her shoulder. She was completely naked, her cock swinging at half-mast.

'You're back,' she greeted, obviously none too pleased to see me.

'What's going on?' I demanded.

'I'll leave that to your fertile imagination,' she replied. 'Actually, I had hoped to have my bags packed and be gone before you got back. But Chris and I got a little diverted.'

'You're leaving me!' I exclaimed.

'Very observant,' she smirked. 'Well, don't you have anything to say?'

If she was expecting me to beg, she was in for a shock. Since my successful interview, I felt like a new girl. She could not possibly realize how relieved her announcement made me feel.

'I shall be spending tomorrow night with Tamella Van Diemen.' How sweetly that sentence rolled off my tongue.

Louise laughed. 'Of course you are, darling. And I'm going down on the pope in my next video.'

'He must be one of the few you haven't done already,' I shot back.

'You are such a fucking pathetic little schoolgirl!' she snarled. 'I don't know what I ever saw in you.'

'Will you do something for me?' I asked, in my best pathetic little schoolgirl voice.

'What?'

'Finish packing and get the fuck out of my life.'

To describe Tamella Van Diemen as beautiful would be akin to calling the Mona Lisa an old painting. The Dutch/American rock queen was the living embodiment of slender, long-limbed perfection. Her most notorious song, 'Sex In Stilettos', was the most appropriate anthem any songwriter had ever penned.

My heart was pounding faster than one of her high voltage hits, as I watched her emerge through the stage doors at the rear of the arena, flanked by a quartet of muscular bodyguards. A small troupe of autograph hunters called out in vain, from behind a protective cordon of rope and male muscle. True to her arrogant reputation, Tamella did not even acknowledge their presence.

Only moments earlier, she had stepped off stage, leaving an ecstatic audience baying for more. Perspiration glistened on her dusky skin. I was delighted she had not paused to mop her brow, much less change out of her stage outfit. This was the goddess of my wet dreams, in spike heeled thigh boots of shiny black rubber and a matching creation of studs and straps that was a cross between a harness and a very revealing dress. The peak of her studded leather cap was pulled low and her eyes hid behind reflective wraparound shades.

A bodyguard pulled open the door and she slid into the back of the white stretch limo, where I waited like a virgin on a sacrificial altar. The only drawback of being her post-performance entertainment was that I had had to miss the show, in order to be ready and waiting for her. However, the smell of her fresh sweat alone made that considerable sacrifice worthwhile.

A mirrored screen separated us from the chauffeur and the dark glass of the windows was impenetrable from the outside, so we were completely alone. I felt her studying me intently, as she reclined in the seat opposite. In accordance with Mandy's instructions, I was dressed to thrill, in stiletto heeled shoes and a tiny purple rubber skirt that stopped well short of the tops of my seamed black silk stockings. The upper half of my ensemble consisted of a lacy black bra and a waistcoat that matched my skirt. A diamond encrusted gold ring dangled from my navel. If the outfit looked half as sexy as it felt to wear, Tamella would surely eat me alive.

'Struck dumb or just shy?' she said finally, her voice soft and deliciously smoky.

'Awe-struck, actually,' I replied.

'Well, pull yourself together and fix me one of my specials,' she snapped. 'Giving ten thousand fans an orgasm is thirsty work.'

A little test, I realized. Only a true Tamella devotee, who paid attention to the most trivial facts concerning her idol, would know about her 'special' - a potent cocktail of rum, vodka, Tia Maria and tomato juice, with a hint of Bailey's Irish cream. She called it a Turbo Lover.

The limousine bar was amply stocked. After I had carefully mixed and stirred the cocktail in a tall glass, I presented it to Tamella. She took a sip, then shook her head.

'Not quite finished. Needs a dash of hot cream.'

I knew at once what she meant and cursed myself for lacking the courage to have taken the initiative unprompted.

Sliding from the black leatherette covered seat, she knelt on the carpet and held the glass between my thighs. As hastily as I had ever exposed myself, I tugged my black silk panties down to my knees and tugged my cock from under my skirt. The closeness of my heroine ensured it was already fully erect. Gripping the hot shaft in my right fist, I pumped it aggressively for several minutes, until my hot, thick cream spat from the slit and into the blood red cocktail in Tamella's glass. When the last drop had been spilled, she stirred it with a long finger, sucked it clean, then took a large sip.

'Perfect,' she smiled, licking her lips.

As she enjoyed her Turbo Lover, I busied myself with polishing every inch of her thigh boots with my tongue. Then, I moved upwards, to lap the sweat from her smoothly shaven armpits and the exposed upper halves of her large, firm round breasts. When I had finished, she pushed me away and raised her heels onto the seat. The leather strips that formed her skirt fell to either side. Her panties were made of interwoven narrow strips of studded black leather. Pink flesh peeked temptingly through the gaps. Sitting at her feet, I had a view to die for.

'Hey, slut, do you want to spend the night in my hotel suite?' she demanded.

'More than anything in the world,' I replied.

'Then you'd better start showing you've got more than just eyes for me,' she growled. 'Otherwise, you may find yourself with a long walk home.'

Followed by an appointment in Mandy's dungeon, she did not need to add. It was time to show her what I was made of. She raised her hips, as I reached for the waist strap of her panties and pulled them down over her rubber-sheathed legs. Her throbbing cock was as magnificent as the rest of her body. The area around it was shaven bare and a crimson heart tattooed in the place where her pubic curls should grow.

I did not waste time on words. There was only one way to praise such a gorgeous tube of girl meat. Tamella shuddered as I licked and kissed the shaven sac of her balls, then lovingly lashed her shaft with my tongue. Finally, I wrapped my mouth around it and effortlessly deep-throated the full, ten thick inches.

The responsive moans of the goddess, as I made passionate love to her with my mouth were sweet music to my ears. Urgently freeing her breasts from the straps that bound them, she squashed them together and raised them, so that she could tease her erect nipples with her tongue. With an artistry honed from years of experience, I coaxed her slowly to climax. A breathtaking deluge of hot, thick cream was the reward for my efforts. I gulped down every delicious drop, then licked her cock clean.

Afterwards, side by side on the warm leatherette seat, we kissed deeply and fondled each other's cocks.

'Fix yourself a drink, darling,' she whispered. 'It's going to be a long night.'

I declined the offer, not wishing to wash the taste of her cum from my mouth.

Half an hour later, we were in her hotel suite. I had little time to appreciate the opulent surroundings, as we both had much more pressing bedroom matters in mind. By the time Tamella had stripped to her thigh boots, I was down to only my stockings and suspender belt and kneeling before her. She brushed my lips with her cock and smacked my face with the hot rod. But when I tried to take it in my mouth again, she pushed me away.

'Get on the bed,' she snapped. 'I'm going to bring a little color to your cheeks.

A moment later, I was crouched on all fours on the dark red covers of the queen sized bed, my rear end eagerly presented for punishment. Tamella took several instruments from a drawer of her dressing table. She warmed me up with twelve stinging strokes of a long, thin cane, then stoked the fire to fever pitch with a blistering salvo from a thick leather tawse, which left me begging for mercy. Ignoring my cries, she took up a cat o' nine tails and proceeded to vigorously flog me, until her right arm weakened from the exertions. By then, my buttocks and the backs of my thighs felt as if they were ablaze. Glancing over my shoulder at the full-length closet mirror, I saw the livid streaks branded on my tender flesh.

After the punishment came the pleasure. Crouching behind me, Tamella spread my throbbing cheeks with both hands and lashed at my anus with the tip of her tongue, causing me to shudder in ecstasy. When she burrowed up inside me, I almost climaxed.

'Such a sexy little hole!' she purred, probing me with a long finger. 'It just begs for my cock.'

'Oh yes!' I gasped. 'Please fuck me! Fill me up with your big, beautiful goddess cock!'

She probed and licked me for a few moments more, then slid her rock hard shaft into my moist, fuck hungry orifice. She buried it to the hilt in my tight tunnel and I squealed delightedly, pushing backwards to meet her deep thrusts. Her semen-swollen balls smacked mine, at the end of each stroke. It was difficult to believe that this was not just a wonderful dream that I would at any moment awaken from. Here was I -Tamella's number one fan - receiving the juicy cock of my goddess in my asshole, my greatest ambition at last coming to fulfillment.

She rode me all the way to climax, shooting me full of her hot cream, my clenched muscles milking out every last drop. She remained inside me until her cock became flaccid. Then, rolling me onto my back, she wrapped her lips around my own swollen member. My passion was at such a peak that I climaxed almost immediately. Tamella swallowed my cum as greedily as I had gulped down hers.

For cumming so quickly, she decided I should be punished again. She could either report me to Mandy, or administer the punishment herself. The choice was mine. Naturally, I opted for the latter. To be punished by Tamella, no matter how severely, would be an honor.

I braced myself for another dose of whip or rod, but she had a much more fiendish method in mind. She handcuffed me to the bed, then ordered me to lift my legs as high as possible. She then used a pair of black silk scarves to bind my ankles to my wrists.

For the next thirty minutes, she proceeded to torture me with a feather duster, tickling the backs of my knees and under my breasts, where I was most sensitive, taking a sadistic delight in my tormented screams and breathless pleas for mercy. Frequently, she paused to feast on my cock and suck my nipples, but only long enough for me to brace myself for a further bout of tickling.

'Had enough?' she finally demanded.

'I can't....... take any....... more!' I gasped, tears streaming down my cheeks and smearing my makeup. 'Please whip me, cane me - anything but that again!'

She smiled. 'I think you've been punished enough for now. If I untie you, will you promise to be a good girl?'

'Yes, yes!' I answered. 'I won't displease you again, I swear!'

As soon as I was freed from my ties, Tamella squatted over my face, offering her pink and puckering rear orifice to my tongue. I kissed, licked and sucked the sweet little hole, while she wrapped her cock in a fistful of my hair and masturbated. I would not have objected to a cream shampoo, but her semen was too precious to be wasted in that manner. When my tongue was aching from servicing her asshole, she moved downwards and squeezed her cock between my breasts. I raised my head, to savor the sight of her fucking my firm tits. Her climax splattered a pearl necklace around my throat, though I managed to catch a few globs on my outstretched tongue. I wiped up the remainder with my fingers and sucked them clean.

Later, she ordered a bottle of champagne from room service. While she drank from a glass, I licked trickles of champagne from her breasts. She then refilled her glass and dipped her cock in the sparkling golden liquid, for me to lick clean. Never had bubbly tasted more delicious.

Tamella's insatiable lust was infectious and neither of us slept that night. I repeatedly took her cock in both ends, loving it more each time. The only cloud on the horizon was the approaching morning, when I would find myself dismissed, my goddess ready to move on to her next show and her next conquest.

At the end of our marathon bedroom session, we enjoyed a long, hot bath together, after which I lovingly dried and powdered her, then treated her to yet another of my much complimented blowjobs. If I lived to a hundred, I would never forget how delightful she tasted. It was just a pity it had to end so soon.

'You know, Justine, I have another three shows to play in this country,' she said afterwards, as we lay naked on the bed, locked in a tender embrace. 'Then, I'm off to Europe. There'll be plenty of other sexy girls to get acquainted with, but I think I'd like to have you in my entourage. Of course, if you have other commitments..'

'Tamella, for you, I would cancel the rest of my life!' I cried, eagerly.

She kissed me softly. 'I may not be quite that demanding, darling.'

 

AnonymousMan

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