This story was first published on Substack. It’s now free there, and published here, with slight improvements.
You’ll want to have read Scene 1 to make sense of this.
Alina - the girl’s name is Alina - had been an entertainingly difficult conquest, not because she was not ripe for the plucking, it turned out, but because she was so hopelessly innocent, so terribly shy, so lacking in small talk that even Fawzia, an experienced seductress, had found it hard to make the girl realise what was happening to her (Alina was a math prodigy, and spent her free time working on obscure proofs - a total, happily absorbed nerd, her modelling career was a bizarre accident, but one which seemed to satisfy some previously hidden aspect of her personality).
To experience something new amused Fawzia; to be corrupting someone so innocent, so unworldly, so gorgeous, made it doubly zestful.
The day came, though, when, at a table off to one side of a select garden party for fashion types (Fawzia has significant shareholdings in several of the major houses, having made her first fortune backing breakthrough designers and new supply chains from Turkey in the 2000s), Fawzia decided that the direct approach was required. She had taken Alina’s hand, gently, caressed her cheek with the other, and simply told the girl; ‘The reason we’ve been seeing so much of each other, Alina, is because I’m going to be looking after you. And that means I’m going to be fucking you, like I’m fucking Susie and Yelena. It’s cute that you haven’t understood this, but it’s time - so - I’m just telling you. In an hour or so, pretty, Susie and I are going to take you up to Trudi’s guest room, then take all your clothes off, and kiss you all over, and give you many orgasms. And then I’m going to fuck you, quite hard, with my fist in your tight little pussy, while Susie licks your clitoris, and you’re going to come again, very hard, only that one will hurt, as well. And then we’re going to be lovers, for a little while at least. Susie will be here in a minute or two, and she’ll get you to take off your panties for me - you don’t wear panties any more - not ever. Your little cunt is mine - your asshole, too, your mouth and your sweet tits also, and I will have easy access at all times. You’ll get used to it, and learn to like it, never fear.‘
Alina’a eyes had grown larger and larger as Fawzia spoke, and her jaw had slackened, so that her mouth fell open, a little, while her cheeks blazed that betraying red. Otherwise, though, she had hardly reacted, her eyes searching Fawzia’s face, although her expression was mild; her hand gripping Fawzia’s tightly.
Picture: Alina, aroused and confused
At last, she had made a strange little face, and let out something that was either a sob, or a stifled giggle, or perhaps both at once, and, moving her hand, as if without intending to, clutched convulsively at Fawzia’s wrist. Her eyes were intense, her mouth half open, but it was impossible to tell whether she was happy, or distressed.
It didn’t matter to Fawzia which it might be - what mattered was that her choice of tactics had been correct - it was clear the girl was going to be incapable of resisting, now, and the older woman smiled, encouraging, calm; It’s OK, pretty thing. I know just what I’m doing; it’s all been arranged with Marianna.
Marianna owned and ran the revered model agency that held Alina’s contract. Marianna liked girls in just the same way as Fawzia, but was far too subtle and sensible to become involved with any of her own stable. Fawzia - who was a free agent (enabled, too, by the boatloads of cash her investments provided), provided her with access to ‘girlfriends’ from other industries and markets, and in return, Marianna colluded with Fawzia’s pursuit of her own girls. For Alina, Marianna’s knowledge and consent around the totally shocking proposition that had just been put to her did nothing to lessen the shock, but did make the reality of it devastatingly believable. Just as Marianna had made the other awful and shocking realities of an early stage modelling career uncompromisingly concrete over the 15 months since Alina had signed up.
Fawzia saw some of the wildness go out of Alina’a eyes, and knew she had won, hands down; That’s right, lovely - it’s all part of the system. You’ll come along with me, and I’ll show you wonderful times and you can have incredible sex without messing with tricky boys. I’ll help Marianna make you a star and then, one day - really, not too long from now, I’ll get bored with fucking you, and let you go, and then you’ll make a fortune and have a luxury life. You’ll get magazine covers and launch perfumes and do great company tie-ins, and fuck who you like, and I’ll always be your supporter.
Alina’s chest rose and fell, her breathing gusty, reflecting her inner turmoil, but she was managing her expression and body language well, and she seemed to be going to speak. Fawzia stopped her lips with a gently but certain finger; Shh pretty, there’s nothing to say, nothing at all. It will all just happen, and you’ll find that it goes very smoothly, I promise. I’m going to kiss you now, so give yourself to me prettily, will you - there’s a dear.
Alina never quite understood how it had happened that, within a few tens of seconds, she was sweetly, eagerly kissing Fawzia, mouth open and soft, and loving it - feeling lust bubble up in the pit of her stomach, hot desire, but also gratitude, fulfilment, peace, somehow; letting Fawzia’s hand at her neck pull her in, giving herself to this force of nature of a woman, whose attentions and conversation she had failed to interpret for weeks now.
Alina wanted to lift her arms and hold Fawzia, but found that she dared not touch her. Luminous creature of the fashion firmament though Alina was - despite being in the throes of an open-mouth, public kiss, she was utterly unable to reconcile the words that still resounded in her mind, like some outsize movie gong; And then I’m going to fuck you, quite hard, with my fist.
Read the next scene of Fawzia and Alina.
