Andi Becomes a Stripper

Andi's modeling assignment calendar was finally filling up again. Carl had arranged for some photo shoots that were, indeed, more intended for an adults-only audience. I didn't like it, but Andi seemed happy with me and her "career" again, so I relented. I held out a sliver of hope that Andi wouldn't be able to handle this "more risqué" stuff and that maybe she'd quit this thing.

Fighting her on it all the time would just kill our relationship, and I certainly didn't want that. I loved her deeply and was, at the same time, hopelessly infatuated with her physical beauty. Hell, I didn't know if another woman could even make me hard at this point. I knew I'd just be thinking of Andi for years to come, anyway... regardless of whether I decided to move on from all this... this shit! So, I stayed the course, quietly hoping that enduring this time of tumult would be the thing that eventually brought us back to domestic normalcy one day. Damn it, I wanted my cake, and I was gonna eat it, too!

Andi had been out partying with Krissy and some others and came home late, but early for her standards, because I was still up. She was obviously drunk and at least a little high, but she was crying. She and her friend had had it out. Resentment and jealousy turned to some nasty things being said between the two beauties. Through sobs, Andi let me know that she and Krissy were no longer friends. She was a little too wasted to coherently explain what had happened in any kind of detail.

But she was obviously distraught. They'd been inseparable through all this "glamour" business. Losing friends is never easy, so I just held her, trying to be as comforting as I could, all the while thinking that this could be it; the thing that could snap her out of this "glamourous" nightmare.

Eventually, Andi was able to get herself settled down after two more shots of vodka and several "covert" bumps in the bathroom. I needed to go to sleep, so I turned her side of the bed down for her, for when she was ready to flame out for the evening. I hugged her again and kissed her mascara streaked face goodnight. I was beat and certainly wasn't expecting sex. She smiled weakly, told me she loved me and just looked at me, through her glassy, bloodshot eyes... Damn it, I was getting a boner and she noticed it.

Andi's smile grew wicked, and she stared right thru me with those fucked up eyes. She reached down between my legs and grabbed hold of my cock, stroked it a few times and slurred, "FUKK me firs'. Fuk my brai'z out, Da'dy!" I swept her in my arms and rolled her over to my side of the bed and swiftly mounted her missionary. Andi was clawing my back, pulling me down to her. Fumes of booze escaped the panting mouth and I reveled in it.

Something about it had me so fucking worked up, so fast, I had to stop pumping to keep from cumming. I withdrew and raised up, sitting back on my haunches out of breath. I have no idea what she knew or was aware of, but she spun out from under me, reached out for the bottle of vodka on the nightstand, and, from her knees, threw her head back, guzzling a shot.

Then her panting, partially numbed mouth purposefully attacked mine! The kiss was sloppy, feverish and urgent. The fumes coming out were strong, threatening to burn out all the hair in my nose. I knew I was about to blow my load right there on the bed between my knees, when she removed her lips from mine, as if coming up for air. Then she guzzled another shot. Immediately, she attacked my mouth again! I was deliriously hot, huffing her booze fumes and it was obvious to me, she knew that. When she did it again, I did blow my load right there on the bed without being touched!

Andi laid back down, her legs spread and her head on her pillow. She stared at me more cockeyed than ever, slurring breathlessly, "Gennin' fukkd up fer, Da'dy!" and unsteadily brought the bottle to her mouth with both hands and upended it. Gulping and choaking down as much as she could before I yanked the bottle from her suddenly wilting, trembling hands. Sickly, I was already rock hard again. I mounted her alcohol embalmed body and proceeded to fuck the shit out of her, just like she asked. By the time I was done, Andi was comatose, but somehow, a silly smile was etched across her streaked, booze sodden face. What the fuck was wrong with me!?

At that point the old Andi ceased to exist in my brain. I had let her corruption continue to this point, and it felt like a point of no return. I wanted to go back in time and fix this, but at the same time, the futility of that, made me give up fighting these new urges. They consumed my conscience. That boozy breath, those fucked up glassy eyes, the slurred speech, the way she struggled to keep her balance, and the way she wanted me to fuck her obscenely sexy body senseless all fueled my urges. I knew I wasn't the same person anymore. I knew, I wanted more!

The next morning, er, I guess around noon, when Andi was waking up. I tried to talk with her, but she was in too much of a fog. I heard her go piss in the bathroom, then I heard the familiar long sniffs, which were followed by a clearing of her throat, then a couple more snorts. When she finally emerged the fog had lifted. When I approached her again, Andi was already soaring! "Baby, last night was awesome! I gotta tell you, I love it when I can smell booze on your breath!"

"Then, c'mere, Daddy. I probably still do." She sauntered towards me, wrapping her petite little arms around my neck and and planting a passionate "kiss" on me. Yep, still boozy with a little "morning" stank mixed in.

"God, that makes me so, fuckin' hot for you, baby!"

"I know, Daddy! You fuck me so good, when I've been drinkin'. I love it when you fuck me when I'm drunk!"

"I love it when you're fucked up, baby. It's so fucking hot!"

"Then hand me that bottle, and lets get me fucked up, again!" I had to smile and as I was reaching for the vodka, Andi added, 'cause I love getting fucked up for you Daddy."

She chugged what was left in the bottle and we made out. The fumes did their thing to me and we fucked for another hour, before her made me go to the liquor store to get more vodka.

I wasn't gone for more than 30 minutes, but when I entered the bedroom with a fresh new bottle, I was dumbstruck. Andi had, somehow, showered, fixed her pretty blonde hair and was dressed in the black vinyl lingerie from one of her previous gigs, kneeling in the bed, openly snorting one line after another! My mouth fell open. She smiled evilly at me and ganked another, before asking me pointedly, "You like me to get high, too, don't you, Daddy?"

My cock threatened to tear though the zipper on its own! I sat the bottle down on the nightstand and approached her, "God, baby. You've got to be the sexiest woman alive!" We continued an encore performance from the night before!

Andi's first few shoots, during the coming weeks were to be softcore, topless gigs. Not exactly primo-spankrag material, but I was completely onboard now. Unbeknownst to Andi, I called the fucker, Carl, and told him I wasn't an obstacle any longer. I told him, that I thought Andi could be a XXX star and that was now our goal! The other end of the line was silent at first. Then, he chuckled and replied in a deep "Chicago mob-boss" kinda voice, "That ain't no shit!"

The first topless shoot went off without a hitch. Andi had learned to flaunt her assets without reticence or humility with the help of a lot of intoxicants. Andi was no longer a binger. She was drinking and doing coke, all day, every day from the moment she'd get up, now. But, the shoots were always scheduled either in the morning, or early afternoons, before she'd be too-too fucked up. I learned that Carl had explained to both Andi and Krissy (and most certainly, all of his other "bitches"... er, eh, clients) early on, that being obviously blasted for photoshoots, would have you unemployed in a heartbeat.

But, he'd also encouraged a certain amount of swill, dope and blow, to help with his pretty young clients' "nerves". Actually, I knew it was so they'd be easier to exploit! This became crystal clear to me, when I accompanied Andi to some of these first few little topless shoots. Carl was also adept at recognizing and firmly insisting they take whatever he gave them before the cameras started clicking, for their own good (if they showed up a little too tipsy; a couple hits of coke, little too high; vodka). Now, I knew how it all began. What a sleazeball! (My own hypocrisy here is duly noted!) And, yes, I was taking notes!

Anyway, the prime gigs went to the stunners, of course. And, I'd seen first hand on two occasions, where some chick showed up too far in the bag for their looks. In other words, "Rode too hard, and put up wet" for too long, would get you gone real quick. If you weren't hot AND willing, Carl had no patience for you. Luckily Andi was both and the camera loved her!

Andi was high on more than life, knowing that she was gonna be a sexy star, making really good money, posing topless in the sexiest clothes and lingerie. It lasted all of two weeks before, it was Andi, who wanted to show more! Carl had manipulated her directly and I capitulated at home, more indirectly. She was a hit with the agency and usually high enough to believe anyone, who told her she could walk on water.

I worked it out with Carl, that I would be her manager. I'd quit my job and cater to whatever and wherever he said Andi was supposed to be. He actually liked to idea, because he admitted what a pain in the ass it was, dealing with "these bitches" most of the time. The agreement was that he'd deal with me regarding gigs. Once I'd get her there, he'd handle the biz. But, that he wanted to work on her a little more... get her excited about how awesome she was and that "nude" stardom awaited! We both salivated at the money she'd command doing full nudes and then, later, porn.

Andi was oblivious. She usually was, regarding most things anyway, anymore. Being loaded all the time was killing brain cells at a rapid clip and turned her into an obedient submissive slut in record time! Without Krissy around, I was her go-to, chaperone, lover, her equally corrupted husband.

We were going at it hot and heavy; a late-night, after-party, drunk-as-fuck, fuckfest, on another night, shortly after I'd sold my soul. She stared at me with those telltale, glassy, fucked-up eyes, and a smile crept across her face. She wasn't too fucked up to talk at that point, she just chose not to answer, verbally. As she reached down with one hand to massage my rapidly recovering dick, I told her she was gonna be a star and offered to lay out two more fat lines of coke for her, since her coordination was all but gone at that point. The size of her smile doubled, as she leaned against me, waiting, while I laid out two long fat lines of coke.

Then she spoke, "Al luv you, da'dy! I'n gonna fukk you sooo, gooo'." She ganked up both lines and, immediately, her expression went vapid. Steadying herself against the towel rack, she came back to me. "Al luv isss shit! Gaah, I'n sooo fukkin' high, righ' now!"

"And drunk," I added. "Do another shot of vodka and kiss me, baby." She stumbled out of the bathroom with me in tow, making her way to the nightstand, put one hand on it to steady herself and gulped 2 or 3 more slugs straight out of the bottle, smacked her pretty lips and gulped for air. I raised her to me, literally holding her up. She still had a death grip on the bottle, but nothing else was working very well. I went in for that kiss and was overwhelmed with lust as she forcefully exhaled, slobbering all over my face. I think her mouth was trying to find mine! The fumes nearly intoxicated me. After another big rip from the bottle, she repeated the process and I ejaculated between our pressed, sweaty bodies. Andi dropped the bottle and collapsed back on the bed. Andi was in heaven; wearing a fucked up smile and mumbling incoherently. So, was I, but certainly headed for hell.

The seeds had been planted. Andi, now, desperately wanted to show off her nude wares in front of the camera. With plenty of makeup, she looked pretty much the same; hot as fuck, but dripping with horny lust. Without it, her looks were beginning to slip, even if just a little. Puffy bags under her eyes were constant, but still, mostly, concealable with enough makeup. Her look, though still sexy as hell, was hardening; no longer even close to the hot, innocent, "girl-next-door", playboy model anymore. A bottle of vodka per day for past two months, along with everything else, had ruined her ability to remember, think and judge things accurately. Andi was thinner than I'd ever seen her. At 5'4", she now weighed 94 pounds, measured 30F-21-32. On top of her other addictions, she was a tan-aholic and her skin was a little too dry and baked, just like her brain. The contrast with her completely colorless, platinum-blonde hair, made it look amazing to me... almost iridescent. I fucking loved all of it!

She did only three nude shoots before Carl approached me with concerns. Not being able to pass for the naked... or even, slut-next-door had affected her marketability. He said a change would have to happen. Either she could lighten her tan, darken her hair and put on a few pounds to get back to nude "glamour", or she could go the route of a fetish model. The correct thing to do would have been to get Andi reined in enough to convince her that plan "A" was the best, most lucrative option. I was pretty sure, none of that would work and I told Carl, as such. Carl agreed. He said, "You've got yourself quite a little messed up little bitch on your hands, there." I didn't say anything. I knew he was right and, frankly, I liked it that way. I didn't ask much of her. I didn't have to. Andi and I were equally "into" her corruption!

"Alright, then," Carl continued. "I'll call Doc Johnson this afternoon. From 600ccs to 1200ccs is sellable... tits-on-a-stick, it is! By the way, can she dance?"

"Sure, she can dance," I wasn't following.