The Reluctant Anal Pornstar Ch. 01

This is based on several different type of casting couch videos. While they are obviously fake auditions in the same way WWE is fake sport, this story will pretend that it is real.

Sandra was kneeling in the office, cum sticking to her cheeks, the white goo contrasting against her dark skin, a burning pain in her core, and she did not understand how she got here.

In the aftermath, of her father's death, her mother had completely fallen apart and it was up to a thirteen year old Sandra to pick up the pieces. It started small, preparing meals and getting her little sister Tara ready for school, that kind of thing. Then, as her mother showed no sign of getting out of her depressive fugue state, it got a bit bigger. Now she was lying about her age so she could work night shifts at fast food restaurant. They needed the money and her father's life insurance had long run out, consumed by the endless expenses of keeping a roof overhead.

Her grades went from straight A's to a C average. And then worse. Graduation was now an unlikely prospect. After turning eighteen, she was able to take on more hours at the restaurant but it wasn't enough. Now her mother was sick. Because apparently Sandra's life was still too easy.

After looking at a pile of envelopes that bore variations of "Due" and "Final Notice" stamped in angry red letters, Sandra buried her head in her hands. This wasn't how her life was supposed to be. She was supposed to be in college, learning, fooling around and getting into trouble, getting to live her life.

What was she going to do?

It wasn't the most dignified of distractions but her sister wouldn't be out of school for another hour and her mother was probably still passed out upstairs (after all, it was only 2pm, whowouldn'tbe passed out in a drunken stupor at this hour?), Sandra decided to retreat to her room, open her laptop, and watch some porn.

If nothing else, masturbation induced endorphins couldn't possibly make her feel worse.

She wasn't picky, electing to pick on the first thumbnail she saw upon entering the site, "Ally Sykes shows everything on the casting couch!"

Ally Sykes, a young brunette with what appeared to fake breasts, sat on a couch and answered questions by a man offscreen. Bored, Sandra scrolled forward until Ally was on her knees with the interviewer's cock pistoning in and out of her mouth. Sandra's hand was already between her legs, her fingers moving.

Ally was now bent over a desk, looking right into the camera as she got fucked from behind. As Ally moaned, Sandra's lips let loose a moan of her own, her fingers pressing into her wetness. Sandra looked right into Ally's eyes, imagining that it was her being filled up right now, and her mind went blank as her orgasm overtook her.

It wasn't the most satisfying porn session ever but it did the job. It also got Sandra thinking. She wondered how much Ally (assuming that even was her real name) got for that video. She clicked on the actresses name and saw that she was in more than twenty videos. That must mean work was pretty good for this particular porn actress.

She remembered the stack of envelopes on the kitchen table and, in an act fuelled by financial desperation, Sandra googled how much the videos paid the girls that starred in them.

She froze. Obviously, she couldn't be considering this. Right?

She glanced over at the mirror on her cupboard and examined her reflection, looking at herself critically, the way someone else might look at her.

Dark skin, five-foot-one, slim build, little in the way of breasts, and thick, kinky hair. She was not ugly, Sandra was sure of that, but did not give off "sexy" vibes, she looked more "girl next door." But, maybe that was okay. After all, the girl next door was supposed to be a popular fantasy for many men out there.

Sandra turned back to her laptop and was hurled down a rabbit hole of google searching before finally finding an online application form. She scrolled through her phone for the most flattering photos of herself before uploading them along with her responses.

She hit send.

She could not believe what she had just done. She had actually applied to be in aporno!

She quickly calmed down when she realised that it washighlyunlikely that she would ever get a callback to actually appear in a video.

Three days later, Sandra was sitting in a waiting room, her foot tapping nervously against the linoleum floor. The room was too cold and the air condition tasted like disinfectant. She was dressed the way they had told her, casual that showed off her body. A white tank top that emphasised what little cleavage she had and denim shorts that she had picked out at a charity shop for this exact occasion. She briefly wondered what the old lady working the checkout would have thought had she known what Sandra had bought them for.

She was nervous but it wasthree thousand dollars!That amount of money might as well have glued her to the chair. She could not pass up this kind of payment. There was simply no choice.

She reminded herself that this was nothing new. After all, she had had sex before. She had given blow jobs before. This was just going to be in front of a camera... and people would watch her.

The door opened. A white man in his forties stepped out, khakis, polo shirt, easy smile.

"Sandra? I'm Nick. Come on back."

His handshake was dry and firm. She followed him down a narrow hallway into an office. A big wooden desk. A black leather couch along the wall. And cameras, three of them, mounted on tripods, their red lights shining.

"Have a seat." Nick gestured to the couch Sandra sat down, the cheap fake leather immediately sticking to her skin. Nick settled into a rolling chair across from her. "So. You've never done adult work before."

"No." Her voice came out smaller than she intended.

"That's fine. Fresh faces are what we want." He crossed an ankle over his knee. "Let's start simple. What do you think you'd do in an adult movie?"

Sandra's throat clicked when she swallowed. "Maybe... blow jobs?" What the hell was happening? She had prepared for this.

Her words hung in the air. Nick didn't look impressed.

"Blow jobs, sure. Swallowing too. That's standard." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "But there's more. You'd be having sex with girls, guys, sometimes more than one guy at a time. And anal. That's non-negotiable."

Her spine went rigid. The wordanallanded in her stomach like a stone. None of the emails had mentioned that.

"You've done anal before?"

She shook her head. A quick, jerky motion.

"Sandra." His voice softened. "If you want to work in this industry, producers need to see you can handle it. You understand?"

"Will it... hurt?"

Nick tilted his head. "That depends on you."

A long pause.

"Stand up," he said.

She stood.

"I obviously can't just hire a pretty face. Take off your clothes."

Her fingers moved to the hem of her tank top. A second of hesitation, two, three, and then she summoned up her courage and pulled it over her head. She unbuttoned her shorts and let them drop, stepping out of her sandals. Her bra was plain beige, her panties a faded pink cotton, she hadn't been able to afford anything nicer.

"Everything," Nick said.

The bra came off. Her breasts were small, high on her chest, her nipples dark and tightening in the air-conditioned chill. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down, stepping free.

Cool air touched everything.

Nick's gaze moved over her without hurry. "You've got a beautiful body. Now get on your knees."

She lowered herself to the carpet. The fibres prickled her shins. Nick stood and unbuckled his belt. The leather hissed through the loops. His khakis sagged, then dropped. His cock was already thick, half-hard, circumcised, the head a flushed purple-pink.

"Open your mouth."

Sandra parted her lips. The tip of him pressed past them, warm and smooth and tasting faintly of salt. She closed her eyes and took him deeper, her tongue flattening against the underside.

"That's it. Use your tongue."

She did. Her jaw ached almost immediately as he was thick but she found a rhythm, bobbing with a wet, rhythmic sound. Her spit slicked him, dripped down her chin. One of his hands settled on the back of her head.

"I'm going to do something now called face-fucking," Nick said. "That means I control the pace. Tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop. Understand?"

She tried to nod with her mouth full.

Then he thrust.

Hard.

Her gag reflex spasmed. His cock hit the back of her throat and she made a sound, a half choke, half whimper, but she didn't tap. He pulled back, then thrust again, faster, his hips snapping. Her hands came up instinctively and gripped his thighs. The wet noises were obscene. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes.

"Good girl. Take it."

The thrusts grew faster, deeper. Her throat burned. The world narrowed to the rhythm of him, the taste of pre-cum bitter on her tongue, the sound of her own muffled breathing. Just when she thought she might have to tap, he pulled out.

Sandra gasped, a long ragged inhale. A string of saliva connected her bottom lip to the tip of his cock.

"Stand up," Nick said. "Bend over the desk."

She rose on shaky legs. The wood of the desk was cool against her belly and breasts. She pressed her cheek to the surface and felt the grain against her skin. From this angle, she could see one of the cameras, its red eye fixed on her.

Nick moved behind her. She felt the heat of him before she felt his hands, one settling on her hip, the other guiding himself to her entrance.

"What do you think is about to happen?"

A shy smile flickered across her lips. "You're... about to have sex with me."

"That's right."

And then he pushed inside.

One stroke. All of him.

Sandra's mouth opened but no sound came out. The fullness was staggering, a sudden deep pressure that made her fingers scrabble against the desk. He withdrew and thrust again, establishing a rhythm, his thighs slapping against the backs of hers.

"Oh," she breathed, and the sound surprised her. It wasn't painful. It actually felt good.

"You like that?"

She whimpered. Her hips pushed back to meet him without her permission.

"That's what I thought."

He fucked her steadily. The desk creaked. Her breasts slid against the polished wood with each thrust. She could hear herself moaning, these small, breathy sounds that seemed to belong to someone else entirely. The fullness built into something pulsing and urgent low in her belly.

Then he stopped.

Sandra nearly groaned in frustration at the sudden emptiness.

"Producers need to see you can do anal," Nick said. "That's what separates the girls who get hired from the ones who don't. You want to get hired, right?"

She pressed her forehead to the desk. Her heart was hammering.

"Yes."

"Then we need to do this."

A drawer opened and closed. She heard the click of a cap. Then something cool and slick touched her, his fingers, spreading gel across the tight pucker of her asshole. Sandra tensed immediately, every muscle coiling tight.

"Relax," Nick murmured. "Tensing up makes it worse."

She tried. She breathed out slow but when the tip of his cock pressed against that tight ring of muscle, her whole body locked up. A tremor ran through her thighs.

"Please," she whispered. "Please go slow."

"I will."

The pressure increased. A burning stretch. Her fingers curled into fists.

"Oh god," she gasped. "Oh god, oh god--"

He pushed. The head of his cock breached her, and Sandra made a high, thin whining sound. Tears spilled hot down her cheeks.

"Breathe," Nick said.

She tried. Inch by inch, the burning stretch continued, impossibly deep, until she felt his hips flush against her ass.

"Where's my cock?"

She was crying openly now, fat silent tears dripping onto the desk. With clear irritation in his voice, Nick repeated the question. "Where's my cock?"

"In my butt." Despite the pain she was feeling, Sandra wanted to groan in frustration. Herbutt?!She sounded like a child.

Nick started to move. Slow at first, then faster. Each thrust sent a jolt through her, a sharp bright pain. She bit down on her forearm to keep from crying out, her teeth sinking into her own skin. The nerves in her ass seemed to scream at her in agony, trying in vain to eject his cock from it.

The desk banged against the wall. Her hair bounced against her shoulders. She was vaguely aware of the cameras.

Nick grabbed Sandra by her hips and started to properly fuck her ass. She desperately hoped it would start to feel good or, at least, feel less painful but it did not. Despite her tears, she started to push back against him, meeting his thrusts. It hurt but she hoped it would look good on camera and possibly make him finish faster.

At some point, all rational thought fled Sandra, all she could focus on was that endless, stabbing, horrible pain that Nick was inflicting upon her. He had been thrusting into her for many minutes now and yet he still showed no sign of tiring. Her cries of pain had now been reduced to pathetic whimpers. She just could not muster the strength necessary to yell.

"I'm getting close," Nick said, his voice strained. "When I pull out, I want you to quickly turn around and get on your knees. I'm going to finish on your face."

Her mind reeled. Her face? But his pace increased, and there was no room for thought anymore, only the brutal rhythm and the burning and her own muffled grunts. Besides, if he finished on her face, he would have to stop fucking her ass.

As if sensing that he would soon have to stop sodomising this skinny teenager, Nick increased the speed of his thrusts.

"Ready?"

He pulled out. Sandra pushed herself off the desk, turned, dropped to her knees. Her face was wet with tears, her makeup smeared.

The first hot blast hit her cheek, just below her eye. She flinched. The second stripe painted across her nose and lips, thick and white. A few more spurts followed, landing on her chin, dripping down her neck. She kept her mouth closed, eyes shut tight, and waited.

When she opened her eyes, Nick was looking down at her, breathing hard.

"That was good," he said. "Really good."

Sandra knelt there, naked and sticky, her ass still burning, her face glazed, and tried to find a smile.

The camera lights kept shining.

Nick was true to his word, the money was in her account by the end of the day.

However, she never got a call back.

At least, not from Nick.

Little did Sandra know, there were other people in the industry that saw the video of the petite, black teenager sobbing as her ass was fucked for the first time. There was definitely an audience for that sort of thing.

While this can be read as a standalone, I have at least two more chapters in progress that continue Sandra's accidental career as an unwilling anal pornstar. I am also open to suggestions for what you want to see happen to her.