The Price Of Innocence

THE PRICE OF INNOCENCE

by Lia Marsh

Copyright © 2013 - All rights reserved

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License Notes

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without expressed written permission from the author; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All sex acts depicted occur between characters 18 years or older, and all sexual acts depicted are consensual.

Laura s
miled as she weaved her way in between the tables, her small and delicate feet unconsciously moving to the steps of the music as she danced her way back to the bar with the customers’ empty plates.

“You just never stop dancing, do you Laura?” grinned
Norman, a fellow waiter, as he shuffled past with a pot of coffee.

“I don’t know how you can, working in a depressing place like this...”

Laura grinned back, depositing her tray lightly on the bar and skipping around it to give her orders to the chef.

“Come on, Norman, it’s not that bad,” she pointed out.

“Anyway, I can’t help it. I was brought up dancing to music like this!”

She laughed, indicating the c
orny Latino beat which was pumping out of the stereo. Norman shook his head, clearly baffled at her light heartedness. 

“
It’s not normal, you know, Laura,” complained her friend Stacy, another fellow waitress.

“No one else who works here is so happy.”

It was true. As Laura weaved her way out to the customers again, she could see all of the other workers going about their jobs with dull, heavy steps; the grins which they forced onto their faces for the customers seeming to cost them a huge effort.

But Laura honestly didn’t mind waitressing. It was true, it was certainly not something which she wanted to stay in all her life. No, she had much bigger plans than that; for Laura was going to become a successful Hollywood
actress.

When she had first taken this job she had treated it quite dismissively, feeling that her ambitions were bound to
realize themselves soon. She even excitedly shared her dreams with the rest of the workers, expecting them to react with impressed interest, or at least mild admiration that she had already had modest roles in a few made for TV movies. To her surprise, however, they waved this away dismissively.

“We’re all movie stars here, darling,” Norman had informed her.

“It’s true,” Stacy had agreed.

“We’ve all had minor roles of some kind.”

“What do you expect?” added Jim, the chef.

“This is LA, after all.”

Laura was nonplussed.

“So, are you still trying to get into the movies, then? I mean, the big ones?”

But the other staff had waved this question away again; and Laura could see that whatever their ambitions had been before, they had given up on them now.

“You will too, soon enough,” they had assured Laura, to her horror.

Many months and a lot of rejections for parts later, she was beginning to see what they meant. She had not been offered a single role in the time she had been working here; though she went to at least one audition a week.
And she was beginning to notice something about the auditions.

Each time she found out who had gotten the part she
had been trying out for it was always the girl who had been wearing the least clothes, and who flirted the most ostentatiously with the casting director. It just wasn’t fair; it was nothing to do with acting ability.

For a while, Laura h
ad allowed this to depress her (to the deep satisfaction of her co-workers). But then, just a couple of weeks ago, she had heard a rumor through the Hollywood grapevine; a rumor about a new movie which would start filming very soon. The movie was about a young, Latin American girl who falls in love with a man with strange powers.  And just last week, Laura had managed to get hold of a copy of the first half of the proposed script.

As she sat in her tiny apartment poring over it, she realized that she had to have this part. It was too perfect for her not to have it! The main female protagonist was a nineteen year old
girl of Latino descent who had grown up in California: just like Laura. The description of her on the front page even sounded like Laura:

“Slender, with dark caramel skin, long black wavy hair, and green eyes.”

As Laura read through the script, she became more and more excited. But how would she get into the movie? It was extremely high-profile: rumor had it that the actor they had pegged for the starring male role was none other than Alan Bond, one of the hottest new movie stars around. As Laura wracked her brains, she remembered all of those casting directors with their lust-filled eyes. And she had begun to formulate a plan...

It
was because of this plan that she was able to step so lightly through her job, and the reason why she found it so irresistible to dance along to the stereo’s music; corny though it may be. She was absolutely determined that she would not end up tired and jaded like the rest of the waiting staff here, and now she felt sure she had found a means of escape. Because her plan was brilliant; she had no doubt that it would succeed. Everything was ready, and tomorrow was the first day of the casting.

Tomorrow, she would begin to put the plan into action...

“It’s just not natural for a waitress to be so happy,” muttered Stacy, resentfully, as Laura skipped past.

********

Step one of the plan had involved a certain amount of detective work. Even the casting day was supposedly a secret, and Laura had had to ask around a fair amount even to find out about it. But she had been living in LA for almost a year now, and she was clued in to where to get the Hollywood gossip. All it took was to hang around in a few of the right bars, and she had the information which she really desired: the name of the casting director.

She had heard of him before, and knew what he was supposed to be like: headstrong, quick-tempered but almost fanatically enthusiastic about
the things he liked. Laura had her suspicions about what these things were, but she wanted to be sure before she did anything rash. The plan had to go smoothly, after all.

She arrived at the casting call very early, hoping to be the first one there. As she stepped into the large warehouse studio which was serving as the auditorium, she was disappointed to see that there were already three other girls sitting inside, chatting loudly as they waited for the casting director to show up.
Laura took her place in the same row of chairs as them, trying not to let her disappointment show too clearly on her face.

‘Never mind,’ she told herself;

‘There’ll be plenty of other opportunities to catch him alone...’

Brightening slightly, she glanced up at her competitors.
They were all quite a lot older than her, and all had very pale skin: she was certainly the one out of all of them who looked the most like the character’s description. A promising start, perhaps; although of course casting directors did not always choose actresses just because they looked the part.

Her musings were interrupted at that moment as the casting director himself strode in, with a great bustle and wave of arms, followed by three
attendants armed with recording equipment and notes.  He moved with a kind of energetic authority which commanded attention, and all four of the hopeful stars immediately sat up and began smoothing their hair.

“Right!” barked Simon White; for that was his name.

“We’ll do this alphabetically. No, wait – that’s stupid. We’ll do it in age order. Nononononono – what am I thinking?”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with an expansive grin; his bright blue eyes gleaming hungrily at the assembled women.

“No, that would be rude, asking you to tell me your ages,” he muttered. 

Putting his hand to his full, pink lips, he stood still for a second, apparently deep in thought. Then he snapped his fingers, and waved
his attendants to go and take their places.

“I know.
Fairest way,” he said, and covering his eyes, he span around in a circle with his arm out, stopping with his finger pointing directly at one of the girls.

She gave a nervous squeak, but got up, and made her way to the makeshift stage set up at the end of the studio.

“Great great great. Fantastic!” shouted Mr. White, at everyone it seemed, or perhaps just himself.

Grabbing the copy of the script being proffered by a waiting attendant, he sat in the centre of the front row of chairs and
settled himself with a great hubbub.

It seemed impossible for him to do anything with any kind of
tranquility or stillness and Laura was beginning to like this about him.

She watched the first girl’s try-out with same satisfaction. The girl’s “Latino” accent was terribly unconvincing; surely Mr. White would acknowledge that?
She looked around at the casting director, who was staring at the girl, fidgeting around in his chair as he did so. Occasionally he would brandish the script in front of his twitching face and bark an order at the girl onstage, who would nervously try to do what he said. This went on for some minutes, until, abruptly,

“Next!” barked Mr. White.

“Who wants to be next? Wait, you gotta choose yourselves...I'm going to the bathroom.”

He marched out, leaving an air of released tension in the studio.

While he was gone, two more girls showed up; both even older than the others and also with very pale skin. As Laura watched another couple of woefully poor (to her Mexican ears, at least), “Latino” accents, her heart became lighter and lighter. Mr. White did not stop his fidgeting throughout the audition process, and oddly, Laura noticed him taking bathroom breaks after every girl’s try-out.

Surely he did not to pee so badly? After the third time of him leaving and then returning, she began to guess what he might be up to from his increased energy and his discreet nose-wiping. Maybe this was her chance…

Just then, Mr. White’s arm flailed in her direction and he shouted,

“You! You’re next!”

Laura smiled calmly and stood up.

“My pleasure,” she purred at Mr. White, and began slinking up to the stage.

Normally she would never act so forward with the casting director at an audition; especially in front of the other actresses. But today, this was a key part of her plan. She wanted to be noticed; whatever it took.

So although she put her whole being into her character as she stood up on the stage, she was not expecting only this to help her get the part. Watching Mr. White watch her, she was gratified to see him staring, seemingly transfixed by her, as he barked his instructions. Going through the motions of her character, she noticed Mr. White frequently wiping his nose, and towards the end of her piece he began jiggling around and eying the exit.  This gave Laura an idea.

As she came to the end of an emotional monologue, spoken with an effortless Mexican accent (for both of Laura’s parents were Mexican), Mr. White slammed his hand down on the script in front of him and snapped,

“Next!”

Laura smiled winningly at him, not perturbed by his suddenness in the slightest.

“Thank you,” she said loudly, in her own Californian accent.
As Mr. White looked up at her, she held his gaze with her striking green eyes; trying to make herself memorable as she stared at him with all of the confidence she could muster.

For a second or two, Mr. White was unusually still as his blue eyes fixed onto hers. Then,

“Very good,” he muttered abruptly, and turning from Laura, he rose and began making his way to the door.

“I’ll be back in a second, ladies!” he announced, as he marched out again.

Laura, seeing her opportunity, leapt off the stage and, hurriedly grabbing her bag from her chair, followed the director out into the blinding LA sunshine.

She could see Mr. White walking ahead of her, waving his arms briskly as though he was still surrounded by people whom he had to order around. The sweat was clearly running down the back of his pink shirt, and his blonde curly hair was quite damp with it. Laura hurried close behind him, noting the tightness of his white
pants which showed off quite an impressive ass.

Mr. White turned without warning down a small alleyway in between studios, yanking open a door and stepping into a cool, dark room. Laura followed at a respectful distance, peering into the room to try to see what he was doing.

She saw him sit heavily on a chair and take a metallic straw from his shirt pocket, then, from his other pocket, something which looked like a small film canister.

Laura was highly intrigued; but she did not want Mr. White to think that she was invading his privacy. So she stepped back around the corner of the building, and waited.

Very soon afterwards, Mr. White came charging out of the room, sniffing happily and wiping his nose. Laura, seeing her chance, seized it. She stepped out from around the corner of the building, walking determinedly nonchalantly, and as if she had not seen Mr. White, crashed straight into him. He stopped, alarmed, his lips twitching as his eyes roamed greedily over Laura’s figure.  Laura, feeling his gaze, felt a twinge of triumph. This was going to be easy.

“Oh, goodness!” she gasped, as she stepped back from Mr. White.

“I’m sorry, sir, I just didn’t see you!”

Mr. White grunted, and she could see he was ready to dismiss her and walk away. She had to engage him, and fast.

She stepped again a little closer to the man, looping her long black hair behind her ears as she did so. It was a highly calculated move which she knew that many men found irresistible: the subtle offering of her body to him.

She noticed Mr. White being taken in by her, as he paused to breathe in her scent, his eyes roving again up and down her figure.

“I just want to let you know something, Mr. White,” murmured Laura; softly, so that he had to bend forwards to hear. He did so. She smiled inwardly; he appeared to be hooked.

“What’s that?!” he asked, staring into her eyes again.

As he did so she could see that it was only now that he recognized her as the girl who had just been performing on stage for him.

“Well, sir, I just wanted to say how thrilled I am that I got to audition for you,” she smiled, moving her hips very subtly to point her pelvis at him.

She could see his breathing increase and encouraged by this, she leaned towards him again; mock-unconsciously, as if she could not help but be drawn in by his powerful presence.

“It’s been a real pleasure….” she added, staring up at him and licking her lips very slightly.

“Oh, has it?” he asked, also moving his body to face hers.

“That’s good. I like it when people are pleased by me….”

“But you know something, Mr. White?” continued Laura, speaking a little faster now to hold his wayward attention.

“What I really want to do is to please
you.
That’s what I really want…”

She looked him up and down; letting her gaze linger on the bulge of his tight pants.

“And,” she added,

“I think I know just how I can do that.”

She held his gaze again, shifting her weight around on her hips so that she was pointing her butt, ever so slightly, in his direction. With delight, she saw him stare at it with unmistakable lust.

“Well…how’s that?” he asked slowly, unable to take his eyes from her. She grinned.

This was possibly the most difficult part of the plan; what she was about to say next was total guesswork. But she had had experience of men like Mr. White before; and they all always wanted the same thing.

“Well you see, Mr. White,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes alluringly,

“I don’t really have that much experience of men. But I know that you seem like the perfect person to help me with my…obsession.”

She looked him up and down again; her eyes flashing at him. To her deep satisfaction, he was actually standing stock still for once; drinking in her every word.

“Your obsession?” he muttered.

“Yes…” she smiled.

“No other man I’ve met will do it right. They just don’t seem to understand that when I’m making love, all I want is for them to take total control…of all of my…parts…”

She wriggled her butt very gently again, and his eyes fell on it with naked hunger.

“But I know you are a real man,” she continued, turning to face him and blinking at him innocently.

“So I want to please you, oh! So much….”

She looked down at that point, and stepped very slightly away from Mr. White. Almost unconsciously, he moved forwards towards her again, and said,

“Oh, then that’s what you gotta do, baby…”

He reached out his hands towards her and she continued to gaze at him innocently; she could see that what turned him on most was total submission on her part. As he began stroking her shoulders, she started making small, happy moaning sounds, and moving her hips in a snake-like manner.

Mr. White was growling in desire now as he pressed himself to her and she could feel his erection clearly through his tight pants. Then, suddenly, he pulled away from her, though still gripping her by her slender shoulders.

“Listen, lady” –

“Laura,” she said, blinking at him again.

“Huh? Oh right, yeah, Laura – I can’t do this now. You have to come to my place, tonight. Can you remember the address?”

He told her, and she repeated it back to him. There was no danger of her forgetting, though; in her detective work she had already found out where Mr. White lived.

Satisfied, for now, Mr. White began hurrying away. After only a few paces, though, he felt compelled to turn back and bark,

“Eight o’clock, ok? And don’t be late!”

With a sniff, he turned again and was gone. Laura stood in the hot sunshine, grinning.

This was going to be fun.

********