At long last, Felicia Day reached her bottom. The lowest she could sink. She spent a couple years as the gaming village idiot before her presence there, too, lost its spark. A person could only watch a former geek girl icon dumb herself down for so long before it grew stale. Bills due and nowhere else to go, she succumbed to her final destination.
But it wasn't any old outcome. In the world of online tits and ass, all women needed a way to stand out from their porn star peers. Unfortunately for her, she already had a brand. That brand? Absolutely, positively sucking at everything she did.
"Come on Felicia, you can do it. Like this."
Felicia watched her fellow stripper twerk for the camera. These pros knew their stuff, a perfect contrast to... to her. To Felicia wagging her butt side to side like a stupid dog.
Over the years, she became a master of fail. Her every twist and bend oozed clumsiness, ignorance, like the before segment of late night informercials given life in a scrawny redhead's body. While her partners wore booty shorts, Felicia decided to put on a pair of black tights, a pink tanktop, and a cheap and glitzy rhinestone-studded bra. Over her tanktop. Like an idiot.
"Let's... let's skip that one and try some seductive slinking," the group leader, Amanda, suggested.
They all got up. Felicia, brain trust that she pretended to be, slammed her cunt hard against the pole and ground it along that hard metal surface all the way down. Her legs bowed. Her hands held tight. She moaned, rubbing her rounded lover to her pussy lips and going back up for seconds. And thirds. And fourths. And fifths. Fucking the pole, really. By the time she came in her tights, her two faux-aghast partners were staring like they'd just been punked.
"That's not seductive slinking."
"It's not?" Felicia bimbo-pouted.
"No, you're supposed to tease the johns, not cum your brains out in front of them."
"I don't think she has any brains TO cum out," the other stripper said.
Orgasms aside, they continued the routine. Felicia followed their lead. Setting her back to the pole, she held her hands above her head and slowly slid. Just one problem. She had her ass pressed against it. Giving her another perfect opportunity to blurt out something asinine.
"Eugh, this is col-oh! Oh wow! Why did nobody tell me how great it felt to rub your butt on something? I could do this all day."
"Enough!" Amanda shouted. "I don't think this is going to work."
"B-But-"
"Go!"
Task complete, Felicia took her rhinestone-studded bra and left the professionals for her real money maker. Down the hall. To the right. Opening a door, she entered the room and set about disrobing. Her bra, tanktop, tights came off with ease, leaving her completely naked before her first john of the night.
"Hey guy!" she cheered and strutted over to him. Bare chest pressed against his shirt, she looked over her shoulder to the webcam drinking it in. "That's right boys, I'm open for business. Why be a failure when you can fuck it? Or tell it to go fuck itself. I'm down for whatever. Send me a chat and we'll work out the kinks. Your kinks."
As she fished her john's cock out of his pants, she thought back on her journey. They were right all along. From convention floors to a brothel on Main, Felicia remained at every point the very picture of a glorified booth babe. A stripper in a booth at that.
This is the end! Many thanks to B-Rex for cropping and removing red eye on the final picture.
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(part 1, part 2, part 3)
Felicia Day, Glorified Booth Babe - pt 4
At long last, Felicia Day reached her bottom. The lowest she could sink. She spent a couple years as the gaming village idiot before her presence there, too, lost its spark. A person could only watch a former geek girl icon dumb herself down for so long before it grew stale. Bills due and nowhere else to go, she succumbed to her final destination.
But it wasn't any old outcome. In the world of online tits and ass, all women needed a way to stand out from their porn star peers. Unfortunately for her, she already had a brand. That brand? Absolutely, positively sucking at everything she did.
"Come on Felicia, you can do it. Like this."
Felicia watched her fellow stripper twerk for the camera. These pros knew their stuff, a perfect contrast to... to her. To Felicia wagging her butt side to side like a stupid dog.
Over the years, she became a master of fail. Her every twist and bend oozed clumsiness, ignorance, like the before segment of late night informercials given life in a scrawny redhead's body. While her partners wore booty shorts, Felicia decided to put on a pair of black tights, a pink tanktop, and a cheap and glitzy rhinestone-studded bra. Over her tanktop. Like an idiot.
"Let's... let's skip that one and try some seductive slinking," the group leader, Amanda, suggested.
They all got up. Felicia, brain trust that she pretended to be, slammed her cunt hard against the pole and ground it along that hard metal surface all the way down. Her legs bowed. Her hands held tight. She moaned, rubbing her rounded lover to her pussy lips and going back up for seconds. And thirds. And fourths. And fifths. Fucking the pole, really. By the time she came in her tights, her two faux-aghast partners were staring like they'd just been punked.
"That's not seductive slinking."
"It's not?" Felicia bimbo-pouted.
"No, you're supposed to tease the johns, not cum your brains out in front of them."
"I don't think she has any brains TO cum out," the other stripper said.
Orgasms aside, they continued the routine. Felicia followed their lead. Setting her back to the pole, she held her hands above her head and slowly slid. Just one problem. She had her ass pressed against it. Giving her another perfect opportunity to blurt out something asinine.
"Eugh, this is col-oh! Oh wow! Why did nobody tell me how great it felt to rub your butt on something? I could do this all day."
"Enough!" Amanda shouted. "I don't think this is going to work."
"B-But-"
"Go!"
Task complete, Felicia took her rhinestone-studded bra and left the professionals for her real money maker. Down the hall. To the right. Opening a door, she entered the room and set about disrobing. Her bra, tanktop, tights came off with ease, leaving her completely naked before her first john of the night.
"Hey guy!" she cheered and strutted over to him. Bare chest pressed against his shirt, she looked over her shoulder to the webcam drinking it in. "That's right boys, I'm open for business. Why be a failure when you can fuck it? Or tell it to go fuck itself. I'm down for whatever. Send me a chat and we'll work out the kinks. Your kinks."
As she fished her john's cock out of his pants, she thought back on her journey. They were right all along. From convention floors to a brothel on Main, Felicia remained at every point the very picture of a glorified booth babe. A stripper in a booth at that.
This is the end! Many thanks to B-Rex for cropping and removing red eye on the final picture.