“Just relax, Annika. They’re gonna love you!”
Although she had no reason to at all, Sandra’s model wasn’t so sure yet, she could see. Of all the girls she worked with, new and Danish Annika could well be the most naturally sexy. Once Sandra’d have her at ease in front of a camera, every second of footage of this category one cutie would make stunning material. Not only was she the proverbial Scandinavian blue eyed blonde, she had a great figure to go with her pretty face – with clothes on and without, she knew from the screentest. And from the perspective of Sandra’s video production business specialising in erotic movies featuring amputees, beguiling Annika was a perfect model as well.
Her clientele was picky. Two years of running this business had been enough to find that out. Sandra’s artistic ambition, decent, credible storylines and the choice to not let her models be only objects of desire notwithstanding, most of her movie buyers made their choice based on preferred type of amputation, with the single leg missing upper thigh a solid number one.
She knew when she started this business, that it’d be mostly devotees buying. Sandra disliked the term but that was how they were called. She also disliked the fact, that it was mainly devotees, not that they were. The unique beauty of an amputee’s body, captured with good taste and without sexual belittlement, was for all, not only for those attracted to stumps, she found. So, personally – and with pun intended – she found it a shame to see customer preference be so one-sided. It was a reality not to neglect if you were in this business though, and she didn’t. Her determined aim was to let it be different one day, for the time being this was how principal demand looked. Consequently, many of her models were above the knee one-legged, Annika included.
And albeit Sandra was the film producer and not a model, it included herself as well.
She’d lost hers at age three, her right, when she’d unexpectedly torn herself loose from her dad’s hand and crossed the street to go watch two puppy dogs. Her small kid enthusiasm never even noticed the car that almost avoided hitting her. Almost. The driver’s evasive action was in time to save her life, not to not run over her leg. It was the massive weight of a car’s wheel against a kid’s small limb. The only question had been where to take it off, not if. And to spare her the pains of a ravaged half leg that would only be hampering her, it was done below the hip.
In a chain of many links it had landed Sandra here, in the small studio she proudly called hers. Turning out to be a girl with creative talent, she’d picked photography and video to make use of it. The work she’d started with was mainly shot in studios, where having only one leg was hardly limiting. And then there’d been a second reason for chosing visual arts.
Growing up as an amputee had made her strongly aware of how she was looked at, how the world perceived people who didn’t match the reigning idea of beauty. Sandra had always strongly objected. In her younger years, she’d even revolted against it, using her missing leg to provoke what she thought to be a hypocrite society that lauded girls with pumped up tits and treated her with looks of horror.
Discovering her talents had proven a way out though. Once she’d outgrown her pubertal rebellion, she learned to channel her anger into a creative determination to express different beauty. She started to present the world with positive examples in stead of brave but hardly effective protest. And she turned out to be quite good at it.
Entering the art circles had also had a downside though. It was elitist, full of smug people with too much money and no bother for what was behind her work. They found her ‘really fascinating’, but only because a photographer with only one leg made a good story to tell equally smug friends at equally boring champagne parties, where she’d often felt the one-legged trophy of art collectors without a clue.
It had made her change direction, the smart way. She’d played their game for a while, surfed on the wave of her work fetching interestingly ridiculous prices, happily collected the money and then went on to do something radically different.
Partly, her new ambition had been pure counterreaction. People in the street staring at her were not interested in art; they watched porn. They also formed the vast majority of society, a society with a wrong view on disability. In Sandra’s view, an amputee’s body could be every bit as erotic as any other, and the right to enjoy the pleasures of sex was just as good an amputee’s right. Since that was not what people in the street thought and it needed to change, it became her aim to give that a try. And she knew she’d be a voice crying in the wilderness, it was still worth the try.
And then she’d found someone who agreed.
Since ten years now, she was with Greg, a man who not only shared her views, but also found her the woman he’d been looking for. Incidentally, he was also the reason she disliked the term devotee. Greg loved her for the person she was, not for her leg amputation. True, he found her short stump and left-legged dexterity incredibly sexy. But his reason for being devoted to her was in admiring her talent, her drive in using it, and in the cheerful and fun loving way she did.
It had made her bloom, her person as well as her sexuality. It had also convinced her everything she believed in could actually be done. With a bit of luck, but it could if you really wanted to.
So, the work she was now doing was partly plain business. It was good business too. It was also – and very much – intended to show the world amputees were perfectly normal sexual beings. Who enjoyed sex like any other, and who were well worth to be enjoyed. And last but not least, to show amputees themselves that they were.
“They really will, dear, trust me,” she smiled at Annika.
Getting up from her chair and walking towards, Sandra gave her a reassuring wink. Like Annika, she wasn’t wearing a prosthesis. She never did when shooting. Openly showing she was ‘one of them’ had a positive effect on the models. Bringing a young woman to her natural expression wasn’t easy as it was, it was a bit harder if she had only one leg, Sandra knew. And since not being the only amputee simply helped her models, she always made sure they were seeing she was as well.
“It’s the studio lights, and all the other equipment. Gets on my nerves,” Annika replied apologetically.
“You’re not the first,” Sandra smiled. “Would a coffee help?”
“Do we have time for that?”
“We’ll take it.”
“Then yes, please,” Annika replied, relieved as well as a little surprised. There was a small crew at work here, and she was keeping them up. Yet Sandra found her feeling at ease more important.
“Greg, could you be so kind?” Sandra asked one of the crew.
“On my way.”
“Thanks, and fetch me the folder with my own pics, please?”
“Sure. And how do you have it, Annika?” Greg inquired.
“Black, no sugar, please.”
Sandra had a relaxed way of making her crew operate smoothly. The crew itself was pleasantly relaxed too. It’d also been Annika’s own choice to do this shoot, with Sandra having made perfectly clear it was not going to be innocent. She had even wholeheartedly agreed it shouldn’t be. Like Sandra, Annika felt a strong desire to be seen as an attractive and sexual woman, as she found nudity a natural part of showing that in a movie. So, all in all, there wasn’t much reason to need that coffee, Annika found. And yet she did.
“Thanks, darling,” Sandra smiled as Greg handed them their coffees. And Sandra the folder.
“My pleasure, sexy.”
Annika smiled. Greg’s looking at Sandra left no doubt he meant that ‘sexy’, and he was right. She’d say Sandra looked common rather than very attractive, her cheerful self-confidence made her looks largely irrelevant. And with her badly scarred stump peeking out underneath that dangerously short skirt she was wearing, she was making a statement of wishing to be seen the way she looked.
“This is to give you inspiration, not to push you, okay?” Sandra then continued, showing Annika pictures of herself.
Her newest model took her time. And she should, Sandra found. The storyline of Annika playing out her own recent love affair was great, as were all the outdoor shoots that’d already been done. With Kalle, her boyfriend, also acting as her lover in the movie, a realistic picture was furthermore guaranteed. They were so madly in love even the worst possible cameraman couldn’t miss, and Greg was a pretty good one.
Within the scenario, the erotic scenes were still open to a certain degree. They’d discussed the broad outlines, but not the details, and Annika knew Sandra was allowing her a say in this.
“Beautiful, and very convincing,” Annika smiled meaningfully.
“That’s why I’m showing them,” Sandra replied. “Whatever you’re doing in front of a camera, it will only work if you want it to be filmed.”
“And how about the boyfriend?”
“No worries, we’ll leave him be your hunk,” Sandra winked. “If he’s so much in love as Kalle seems to be in you, it’s pretty hard to not let him be…”
“Maybe that was not what I meant…?” Annika winked back, eyeing a picture showing an impressive erection of Greg’s in the picture album. It made them both giggle, but Sandra soon focussed on Annika again. “We’ll keep Kalle’s challenge for tomorrow. Today it’s you I want to be at ease.”
She nodded in understanding. “I know. And you know what? I’m a lot better already.”
“Yeah, so let’s get your crew back to work,” Annika grinned.
Kalle’s parts in this scene had already been shot. Sandra’d have them edited in later, slightly misty to make them be Annika’s fantasies. He’d done remarkably well too, so well Sandra wasn’t really worried about Kalle’s erection tomorrow. His contribution to this part of the movie had included a masturbation scene, which he’d passed with flying colours.
And now it was Annika’s turn, to be the girl having the fantasy of Kalle jerking off on naughty thoughts of her.
Annika entered the bedroom the crew had set up in the studio. A young woman coming home from work, in her bedroom to change because she’s having dinner tonight with the young man she has a crush on. And while she’s undressing, her thoughts wander off.
She was doing fine, Sandra saw. With one camera doing the wide shots and Greg the close-ups, there was quite a bit of activity going on around her, but she managed to not let it disturb her. Her starry-eyed, dreamy look was actually very good, and she comfortably let the close-up camera shoot her crutching, her putting them aside, the hopping on her way to the bed and the extreme close-up of her stump clad in jeans as she sat down.
Like her own, Annika’s amputation was done below the hip. Her model was missing her left leg however, and she’d become one-legged fairly recently, whereas Sandra had been for thirty years already.
She watched Annika slip out of her jeans and smiled. Greg was not only good with his camera, he was also pretty bold. So, Annika’s undressing was shot from the perfect angle, Greg was also making sure her stump popping out was showing with every detail that made it unique and beautiful.
This was where the shots of Kalle would start appearing, Annika thought as she felt the powerful studio lighting on her ever more bare skin. She kicked them off with her good leg, the jeans, and left the rest of her clothes on, like she would in real life. She also squirmed herself into the right mood like she always did, with her left hand on her left breast as her right stroke down, first over her belly, then entering her panties. And since a year and a half, this ritual included yet another action. She made the muscles of her stump twitch loosely and concentrated to make the sensations interact with what her index finger was starting to trigger.
It’d been an accidental discovery, finding out how very good it felt. Scientifically, there was even an explanation for it, she’d once read. Or at least a presumption. The brain used a sort of mental image of every body part to make the connection between motoric and brain function work. The images of legs and genitals were stored in adjacent spots, spots the brain used for new purposes if a mental image was no longer needed, like with an amputated leg. And since it was the neigbouring spots that took over, the vacancy of a leg no longer there was taken over by the genital’s brain image.
Very practically, this meant she could feel stimulation of her stump in her cunny, and the other way around. It did require not being blocked by bad feelings regarding the amputation. But once you weren’t, the sensation was pretty intensely very pleasant.
She could well do without the stuff that was going to be edited in. Kalle was clearly on her mind now, more vividly with every moving of her finger. When he’d first seen her do this, he’d told her how terribly exciting it’d been to watch. So there’d been more times already, even when they’d not been sexual that long yet.
There was the thrill of Kalle finding this hot, there was even more the kick of Kalle being thrilled by something her stump played an active part in. She was doing pretty well in coming to terms with it, but seeing her lover like this so much sure helped. And it made it no effort at all to imagine his eyes on her now.
“Wow, darling, you’re doing great!”
Sandra’s voice sounded as if from a distance. And were there cameras putting this on film? Ah yes, there were, Annika realised. She also didn’t mind anymore.
It was a nice and slow build-up of erotic tension, slipping the elastics of her panties over her stump. It was also what she’d do at home when playing with herself, and that’s why she did. Even with her eyes closed, she could sense the camera moving closer.
Fully moist meanwhile, and with her excitement mounting smoothly, she added more fingers, moaning ever louder as the images of Kalle watching boosted her arousal. Squishing sounds started to fill the studio, as well as her scents. And they launched her into an unstoppable upward spiral.
The breaks were off now, Annika felt. Totally. Maybe she’d be very embarrased to see this back on video, but that was for later. Right now, she let herself be swallowed by the power of her fantasy. She’d had her reason to suggest a scene like this to Sandra: she thought she was pretty good at this. Not that she’d ever really compared with girlfriends – like Kalle had confessed doing with his mates- but most every girlfriend confessing how she’d play with herself had made Annika conclude she was taking things a little further than they were. And maybe not just a little.
In her mind, Kalle’s watching was totally shameless now. From very close by, he witnessed every detail of her fingertip working her clit, of greedy fingers making the gushing wetness cramp out of her slit, of how she smeared her juices into the frantic spasming of her stump, of Kalle whispering this was so fucking hot it was making him cum. All every bit her own, lively fantasy. But she was experiencing it as very, very real.
Sandra had seen many a model get rid of camera shyness. But never one who did like Annika. Her memory of the insecure cutie making her studio entrance simply short-circuited with this alluringly unleashed babe, whose cat-like squirms, pent-up grimaces, frantically moving fingers and wildly gesturing stump were making this movie a guaranteed hit for this scene only. Sandra had seen enough models in action to look at sex with professional distance, now she found herself extremely curious to see this girl in action with her lover tomorrow. With distinctly wet panties, she watched her newest model letting herself go, all the way till the shuddering finale.
“Another coffee, or shall we get on with the shower scene?”
They’d all allowed Annika the time she needed. In almost solemn silence. And now Sandra had broken it, smiling at her model with admiration. She’d just witnessed what might well be the best scene she’d ever done. And no doubt, the camera guys had taped it perfectly.
“Let’s get on while I’m in the mood, and before I’ll get embarrased,” Annika chuckled.
“Please never be,” Sandra replied instantly. “You were historic.”
“Hmm, I’m not so sure if ‘historic’ is really reassuring me,” Annika winked as she got up from the bed. “And um… I could also actually do with a shower.”
“Mmm, I could as well. You were frigging hot, girl…” Sandra wasn’t shy to admit.
The two women smiled at each other, meaningfully. They were both standing without crutches, one nude, the other dressed, both missing a leg. And not hiding that at all felt great. Sandra was right about that positive influence, Annika found. Showing she was an amputee like her made it so much easier to not be shy with it, as Sandra’s conviction the world should be shown different beauty had made her set up an idea and gather a crew that was a relaxed pleasure to work with.
Tomorrow, they’d finish this movie with the scenes they’d thought out to do with Kalle. Today had taken away Annika’s last reserve, so they were going to be hot. And frankly, she was already looking forward to them.
But before that, there was an idea that’d suddenly come to mind.
“Why don’t you join me then?” she asked Sandra, grinning seductively.
There was a moment of pondering, then Greg’s voice from behind broke the silence. “We’ll change the scenario, darling. No problem at all!”
Laughter resounded in the studio. And very spontaneously, Sandra started undressing.
[To be continued]