A young manicurist is sent to do the nails of her favorite star

The little shop in Yorkville was busy that morning.

The other girls told her that it always was during
Halloween. The whole town was getting into party mode.

Many clients had slipped away from jobs in nearby office
towers to get perms and nails done.

All of them, it seemed, wanted nail’s painted, vampy
black with witches or pumpkins.

Bonnie had only been working at the shop for two months
and didn’t have many regulars of her own but there were
enough drop-ins that she was finishing her third set of
hand-painted nails that morning and it was only eleven.

Everyone was in a great mood and the chatter was fun,
although deafening.

Bonnie was a diminutive, quiet girl not at all like her
co-workers. Her Mom had never allowed much idle chatter
or noise at home. So it was all new and exciting for her.

It made the annoyed look on Mrs. Conner’s face, as she
set down the phone, all the more puzzling.

She watched as her boss, checked appointments, then
looking her way, slowly walked over to her.

“Bonnie, When Mrs. Ryan is finished; could I speak to you
a minute?”

“Sure Mrs. Conner.”

Bonnie was a little upset as she applied a last coat of
clear enamel to her current customer’s nails. She was
worried that her boss may had received a complaint about
her work. She needed this job. Her mom hadn’t wanted her
to move to Toronto, but Bonnie, for the first time in her
life, had stood her ground against her Mom and insisted.

On her own, with her dad’s secret help, she’d taken a
loan out to attend the beautician’s school. She realized
that she was lucky getting on at Mrs. Conner’s exclusive
little downtown shop. Most of the clients were
professional businesswomen and excellent tippers.

As she stepped into Mrs. Conner’s office, her boss gave
her a warm smile and Bonnie mentally sighed her relief.

“Dear. Sorry to drag you away. I have a little problem
with a special client and need to ask you a favor.”

“Sure Mrs. Conners.”

“Well, don’t be so quick to say yes. You shouldn’t thank
me. Would you mind doing Trish Christina’s nails this
afternoon, at her suite?”

“Trish Christina the movie star! Oh! Gosh Yes! I’d love to.
She’s great!”

“You may not think so later, dear. She’s a spoiled brat.
Some of the girls completely refuse to have her as a
client. She’s demanding, fussy and a real pain in the
ass. But… she’s sent me some of my best customers and I
can’t turn her away. She’s in town for a few months
working on a movie with Rex Terrison and there’s a
publicity function at Casa Loma tonight. She’s decided,
at the last minute, she just HAS TO have her nails done
and I’m stuck. You’re the only one not booked up till

“Please, Mrs. Conners; I’ll do it. I really want to. I
love all her work.”

“Ok Dear. But this is the REAL person, don’t let her get
to you. Just do your best, which I’ll add is wonderful!
Her favorite color is Midnight Rose. Here’s cab money. Go
to the Sheraton, Suite 820. I told her I’d have someone
there by noon, so you’ve almost an hour.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Conners; I’ll make her happy.”

“Well, you’ll be the first. I’ll make it up to you; you
won’t lose money, no matter what happens. Off you go now,
don’t be late for god’s sake or she’ll be twice as

Bonnie rushed back to her workstation and selected, some
pre-painted nails as samples, polishes and her equipment
kit. She was excited, and rushing out to hail a cab,
completely forgot her jacket. She couldn’t tell if she
was shivering from the thrill of meeting her favorite
idol or the cool fall air.

Asking at the front desk the way to the suite 820, the
clerk insisted on knowing her name and business. When she
explained, he picked up the phone and talked to someone.
She was told to wait. Someone would be down soon.

Ten minutes later, a big nasty-looking man in a suit
approached her and asked if she was the manicurist. Then
he escorted her up to the suite. Opening the door for
her, he ushered her in and closed it behind her.

“There you are! About time! I’ve been waiting for
hours… Well! Don’t just stand there. I haven’t got all
day. What’s your name?”

“Bonnie, Ms. Christina.”

“That’s a pretty name. Well, get over here, Bonnie. God!
You’re young. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Walking across the large room, Bonnie tried not to stare
at everything at once.
The suite was pure luxury. Silk, satin and chromed steel
decor, reeked of money and refinement.

Lounging in a corner of a large crushed velvet sofa was
her favorite person in the whole world.

Hair as black as night, cut short with curling sideburns
pointed and cascading down over her cheeks. Her eyes,
ever so green and set wide apart on her cream colored
skin. Her body small but lush and full, so different from
the shinny child of the old TV shows.

She wore a Chinese style, jade-green satin gown,
festooned with raised floral patterns. The gown’s thigh-
to-ankle slit was open, revealing a shapely leg ending in
a tiny silver high heel sandal.

“Do I have to get up? I hate sitting at the table.”

“No. I can sit on the footstool. Can I set my things on
the coffee table?”

“Of course. I want you do my nails to match my gown? I
think I want little pumpkins. Do them a color that won’t
clash with my dress?”

“Yes. Ms. Segene. I’ll do the base color in a matching

Bonnie was trembling when she took the extended hand. Her
idol noticed and asked. “What is wrong, child?”

Bonnie nervously blurred out…

“I’m sorry Ms. Christina but… I just worship you. You’re
just so great. I’ve seen every movie you’ve ever made and
I have all your TV shows recorded. I watch them, all the
time. I’m just so nervous. I never thought I’d meet you,
let alone be here to do your nails.”

“Oh! How nice, a fan! Well Thank You! I didn’t think
anyone knew me in this town. You don’t look old enough to
remember those old Batam Family shows!”

“My older brother recorded them all from reruns… but he
liked Mrs. Batams.
I saw them and liked you ’cause, you reminded me of a
friend of mine, that moved away.”

“She looked like me?”

“No. But she was always smart and bossy. Like you were to
your brother in the show.”

“She was bossy. Toward you?”

“Yes. I guess.”

“And you liked her for that?”

“I guess. I never thought about it. I just liked her.”

“Well. Calm down. Let’s see what you can do with my
nails, okay?”

I worked on her nails, while she sipped her wine,
watching me. After the enamel base was on and we waited
for it to dry, she offered me a glass of wine. I politely
refused, but she insisted. Saying it would steady my

The wine was delicious, but strong, I drank it and she
passed me another. I didn’t dare refuse. I don’t drink
too much, actually, not at all. So after two glasses, I
was a little giddy and really had to concentrate to not
screw up all those little pumpkins.

When finished, I released her hand and waited while she
peered at her nails on both hands, turning them side-to-
side. Admiring them.

“Dear, you’re an real artist. My nails are little
masterpieces… I’ve still lots of time. Can you my toes
to match?”

“I think so, Ms. Christina, but I may mess up a bit. Sorry,
but the wine is really getting to me.”

“That’s okay child. No one will be looking too closely at
my toes… except you.
Help me off with my shoes? I don’t want to mess up these

She turned and extended her leg toward me and as I
started to undo the ankle clasp. Her gown parted
completely, and I could see all the way up the inside of
her thighs to her panties. Panties, pure white and
crotchless. Her hairless sex revealed, framed by the
opening. Her slit parted, glistening. I stared at her
nakedness and couldn’t take my eyes from her. I don’t
know why, but I just couldn’t.

“Do you like?”

Furiously, shaking my head to snap out of my mesmerized
state. I undo the ankle clasp and slip the little shoe,
off her foot. Tucking one leg under her, she extends the
other foot, for my attention, parting her legs, all the


“Pardon? Ms Christina.”

“My panties dear. Do you like them?”

I feel my face flushing as I struggle for words, an
answer, any answer, any escape. I am caught, mesmerized,
a moth to her flame. My mouth dry, my brain numb. Her
shoe falls from my weak hands, unto the floor. Her bare
foot remains cradled in my palms. I raise my head and
look at her face, her beauty, her knowing eyes, her
smirking smile.

My eyes plead to her, for what, I know not. She knows
though. She knows me, perfectly.

Her hands move, one down her lower body, to her naked
sex. Her fingers frame her moistness as she spreads
herself to my captured eyes. Her other hand gestures me
to her. Fingernails snippy snapping in command.

“Come closer… closer. Come on, here. Get off that
stool, down, here, on your knees.” Her nails, my art, the
sharpness of them, stab on the back of my head as she
pulls, prods me to her, towards her wetness.

My lips touch, taste her essence, desire as she drapes a
fold of her dress over my head. Enwrapping me in
darkness, above me, from far, far away.

“Go on little one, Worship me, enjoy yourself. You can do
my toes later.”

Closing my eyes, I lick, thoughtless, but happy. So
Happy! Enjoying my plight.