Another long and weird butt-oriented caption. I actually have an ebook series sort of similar to this, now that I think about it. But it is still a little weird by my standards. so I'll post it here instead of on my main blog. Hope you all enjoy it even if it is a touch ridiculous.
"That's it, yeah, just like that! Oh, turn left! Now right! Oh yes, you are beautiful!"
The camera man snapped picture after picture in rapid succession, as Emma twirled obediently before him. Finally, he lowered the camera, his eyes darting around the small studio space.
"Hmm... hey, how about you try sitting down, babe? And put your best face forward."
She would've rolled her eyes if she could, but she was a professional. Sighing inwardly, she stepped up to the short cushioned stool and sat. Or, rather, knelt and presented herself forward for his lens.
The man spun around her in a fury, snapping away and showering her with empty praise. She stayed still, as he worked his way around. Despite his juvenile humor, he was a professional, and carefully avoided showing off her scars. The modeling agency had given him strict instructions no doubt, as had the advertising executive watching the shoot a few feet behind them.
It was easy enough to avoid; her scar tissue was really quite minimal, just a few white blemishes where her torso used to be.
Emma Butte had always been famous for her prodigious backside, even before her fat injections and butt-lift operation had elevated her to Instagram diva status. She'd been cast in a reality-TV show a few months after her enhancement, and had managed to build a nice little career around her unusual endowment. She'd been cast in actual shows, and several films purely to show off her bottom, usually just glorified cameos centered around showcasing her backside in some fashion. But once she'd even had a few lines with the star.
But she'd mostly been moving into commercials, where her limited acting ability didn't matter, and her looks could carry her. Her last gig had been a commercial for some sort of new tanning lotion, with a line about needing so much due to all her 'real estate'.
For some reason, the advertiser thought she should be on a jet ski, ass hanging out in the air, when she recited the line at the camera and rode off.
The filming hit a hitch when the jet ski exploded, nearly cutting her in half.
Emma involuntarily shuddered at the memory. Even two years later, it was frightening to think about. She'd only survived due to luck; a medical convention had been in town that day, and some of the best doctors in the world had been in attendance. By the time she reached the hospital, a dozen world-class surgeons were already waiting for her. They spent thirty-two hours painstakingly saving her life.
Unfortunately, they had only been able to save half of her. Everything between her hips and her neck had been destroyed, crushed by the explosion. Somehow they managed to save enough of her internal organs, including a lung, kidney, and her heart, for her to live. But without an abdomen, they'd been forced to improvise.
The photographer added another roll of film to his pre-digital era camera, blowing her kisses as he prepared the next phase of the shoot.
Emma wished she could talk, or emote at all, actually. It was hard being nothing but an ass. People never knew where to stare.
The surgeons had somehow packed her rescued organs into her hips, even finding room for her skull and the brain it protected. Her oversized derrière had probably been her real savior there, as it gave the men plenty of spare room to nestle her organs safely.
Her central nervous system hadn't been hurt in the explosion, her chest taking the brunt, so they'd been able to neatly fold her spinal nerves into what remained of her body, ensuring that she had full motor control of her legs, and full sensation of what remained of her body.
Once they were through, all that was left of her body above the waist was a small bump and a few ugly scars.
At least she wasn't blind, she reminded herself, as a flash from the camera threatened to do nearly that. She couldn't blink, unfortunately, as her visual system was directly tied into her eye. Dozens of micro lenses, each just a single fiber optic cable, fed light back to her retina, located somewhere inside the bump that was her waistline. Each was low-resolution, but with nearly a hundred lenses, she got enough light to see nearly as well as before her accident.
Of course, her depth perception was terrible. They'd only managed to save the one eye, after all. But being a cyclops was better than nothing.
I just wish the doctors had put the lenses somewhere else, she thought, as the photographer flashed her again.
For some reason she'd never had properly explained, the surgeons had decided to place the micro lenses around her anus. Now her whole view of the world was centered around her hole. Not only was it embarrassing and more than a little ego deflating, to see from the perspective of her ass, but she'd also had to learn to walk backwards!
"Okay, I think we're ready to showcase the product," an advertising exec said, pausing the photographer as he finished his fifth roll of film.
At least her career was finally back on the mend, Emma reminded herself, as two studio assistants approached with the product she was supposed to be advertising.
She wasn't much of an actress even before her accident, and now that she lacked a face or a voice or even arms, her acting prowess was hardly improved.
But she had no problem balancing the bottle of 'Nuthin' Butt' brand anal lube on her rump as the other assistant wrote her 'lines' on a cheek with lipstick.
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And Nothing But
Another long and weird butt-oriented caption. I actually have an ebook series sort of similar to this, now that I think about it. But it is still a little weird by my standards. so I'll post it here instead of on my main blog. Hope you all enjoy it even if it is a touch ridiculous.
***********************************************************************************************
"That's it, yeah, just like that! Oh, turn left! Now right! Oh yes, you are beautiful!"
The camera man snapped picture after picture in rapid succession, as Emma twirled obediently before him. Finally, he lowered the camera, his eyes darting around the small studio space.
"Hmm... hey, how about you try sitting down, babe? And put your best face forward."
She would've rolled her eyes if she could, but she was a professional. Sighing inwardly, she stepped up to the short cushioned stool and sat. Or, rather, knelt and presented herself forward for his lens.
The man spun around her in a fury, snapping away and showering her with empty praise. She stayed still, as he worked his way around. Despite his juvenile humor, he was a professional, and carefully avoided showing off her scars. The modeling agency had given him strict instructions no doubt, as had the advertising executive watching the shoot a few feet behind them.
It was easy enough to avoid; her scar tissue was really quite minimal, just a few white blemishes where her torso used to be.
Emma Butte had always been famous for her prodigious backside, even before her fat injections and butt-lift operation had elevated her to Instagram diva status. She'd been cast in a reality-TV show a few months after her enhancement, and had managed to build a nice little career around her unusual endowment. She'd been cast in actual shows, and several films purely to show off her bottom, usually just glorified cameos centered around showcasing her backside in some fashion. But once she'd even had a few lines with the star.
But she'd mostly been moving into commercials, where her limited acting ability didn't matter, and her looks could carry her. Her last gig had been a commercial for some sort of new tanning lotion, with a line about needing so much due to all her 'real estate'.
For some reason, the advertiser thought she should be on a jet ski, ass hanging out in the air, when she recited the line at the camera and rode off.
The filming hit a hitch when the jet ski exploded, nearly cutting her in half.
Emma involuntarily shuddered at the memory. Even two years later, it was frightening to think about. She'd only survived due to luck; a medical convention had been in town that day, and some of the best doctors in the world had been in attendance. By the time she reached the hospital, a dozen world-class surgeons were already waiting for her. They spent thirty-two hours painstakingly saving her life.
Unfortunately, they had only been able to save half of her. Everything between her hips and her neck had been destroyed, crushed by the explosion. Somehow they managed to save enough of her internal organs, including a lung, kidney, and her heart, for her to live. But without an abdomen, they'd been forced to improvise.
The photographer added another roll of film to his pre-digital era camera, blowing her kisses as he prepared the next phase of the shoot.
Emma wished she could talk, or emote at all, actually. It was hard being nothing but an ass. People never knew where to stare.
The surgeons had somehow packed her rescued organs into her hips, even finding room for her skull and the brain it protected. Her oversized derrière had probably been her real savior there, as it gave the men plenty of spare room to nestle her organs safely.
Her central nervous system hadn't been hurt in the explosion, her chest taking the brunt, so they'd been able to neatly fold her spinal nerves into what remained of her body, ensuring that she had full motor control of her legs, and full sensation of what remained of her body.
Once they were through, all that was left of her body above the waist was a small bump and a few ugly scars.
At least she wasn't blind, she reminded herself, as a flash from the camera threatened to do nearly that. She couldn't blink, unfortunately, as her visual system was directly tied into her eye. Dozens of micro lenses, each just a single fiber optic cable, fed light back to her retina, located somewhere inside the bump that was her waistline. Each was low-resolution, but with nearly a hundred lenses, she got enough light to see nearly as well as before her accident.
Of course, her depth perception was terrible. They'd only managed to save the one eye, after all. But being a cyclops was better than nothing.
I just wish the doctors had put the lenses somewhere else, she thought, as the photographer flashed her again.
For some reason she'd never had properly explained, the surgeons had decided to place the micro lenses around her anus. Now her whole view of the world was centered around her hole. Not only was it embarrassing and more than a little ego deflating, to see from the perspective of her ass, but she'd also had to learn to walk backwards!
"Okay, I think we're ready to showcase the product," an advertising exec said, pausing the photographer as he finished his fifth roll of film.
At least her career was finally back on the mend, Emma reminded herself, as two studio assistants approached with the product she was supposed to be advertising.
She wasn't much of an actress even before her accident, and now that she lacked a face or a voice or even arms, her acting prowess was hardly improved.
But she had no problem balancing the bottle of 'Nuthin' Butt' brand anal lube on her rump as the other assistant wrote her 'lines' on a cheek with lipstick.