Escargot211
08-30-2005, 9:12 AM
Preface:
I wrote this story in the Italian Section some time ago. Some have liked it, so now I try to translate it in English the best I can.
Background (useful for not-Italian people).
In Italy there is a satyrical tv-show where sometimes appear two beautiful girls who dance a little on the stage.
These girl were called "veline" and the show director changes them once every year or two.
In the year 2002 the two current veline Elisabetta Canalis and Maddalena Corvaglia (see picture below), became so popular that almost every girl wanted to be a "velina" herself. So the contest for choosing the next veline became a show of its own.
http://img26.imageshack.us/img26/6228/100fm.th.jpg (http://img26.imageshack.us/my.php?image=100fm.jpg)http://img92.imageshack.us/img92/7229/veline18ou.th.jpg (http://img92.imageshack.us/my.php?image=veline18ou.jpg)
This is the fictional story (in 3 parts) of one episode of that show.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"Good evening, people of Venice! And welcome to tonight's show!". Two beautiful women, one blonde and the other dark haired, walked onstage and waved to the audience who crowded in the square to see the show.
Both women were wearing a brown leather skirt, a pale brown shirt, and brown leather knee high boots.
Like every night from a month ago they were about to introduce the girls for the contest of the new "veline".
They themselves have been veline in the last year and now were hosting the tv-program that would have crowned the new ones.
"Let's waste no time: here we have the girls for tonight!", said the blonde woman. And 6 girls jumped on stage and danced to the music, while reaching for their seats onstage. A camera made a close up of their faces, then their feet: they all wore sandals, shoes or boots, but always with stiletto heels.
"As you can see, this is the blonde girls' day", said the brunette, "so, Maddalena, I leave the girls in your hands, while I take care of the carpets".
"Sure, Elisabetta!"
Elisabetta walked towards the front end of the stage, where 6 men were competing in a contest of their own: one of them will have to honor to be the living walkway for the new veline.
This was actually a surviving contest: the last of them to be alive at the end of the night will be the winner.
Fixed to the stage, there were two parallel steel bars, with a distance of 9 feet between them.
Six men waited layng face up between the two bars: they were hanging with their wirst chained to one bar and ankles to the other bar. They wore nothing but a slip and between them and the ground below them, there were 5 feet of air.
Elisabetta was now on the edge. She paused her stride and talked to the audience.
"While the girls are blonde, the boys are skinny, tonight."
The show directors divided the contenders in two categories, and each night only one of them was onstage. The women were sorted in blondes and brunettes; the men in fat and skinny. That was meant to show men's ugliness.
Elisabetta stepped ahead and put her left foot on the groin of the first man. She slowly shifted all her weight on that foot, savouring the moment, and then put also the right foot next to the left, on his stomach, balancing her weight on both feet.
She noticed that the his body didn't bend downwards under her: production's assistants have tied him very well, removing that awful hammock effect.
Of course, being hanged so tight was very painful for them men, but they had time enought to scream in the afternoon, before the show.
Elisabetta turned rightwise on her heel, facing the head of the man. She saw the pain in his eyes and his tiny, already tortured body.
She was clearly heavier and taller (even without her 5 inches heels) than him, and he was suffering like hell, under her. She loved that thought.
She looked down at her feet and saw her boots' heels on his stomach and her soles on his chest.
Those boots were very quality ones. The show was an hit, so they can afford the best appareal for the two hosts.
The heel was high and very thin and the toe was thin, too. Those boots were the perfect torturing device for the men who happened to be beneath them: a kick with her toe would knock everyone out cold. A twist with her heel would throw him in an abyss of pain.
The beautiful woman wanted to test this theory and slowly shifted a little more of her weight on the heels. That was enought to make him grind his teeth and wince in pain.
"That's true!", she mumbled at herself, smiling, "The best results with a little effort."
But there was no time to waste, so she proceeded with her job.
"First contender is 72 years old, 5'8'' tall and just weights 11 pounds."
She kneeled on him: her left foot and right knee on his chest and her right boot's toe resting on his groin.
"Hi! Tell us something about you! Were do you come from and why you are here tonight?" and put her mic close to his mouth.
"I've been all my life a footstool for horsewomen: I get on four and they stepped on my back to mount their ride, but that day a woman wanted to ride me instead of her horse... She kicked and whipped and dug her spurs on me, commanding to run... She rode me all day long!"
"That's very interesting, but why did you came here?" She asked while twisting her left heel on his chest, meaning that he'd better make a brief summary.
"After that experience my back hurted bad. I was no more of use as a footstool, so my mistress sold me to the show productors and here I am."
"Well! Let's see the second contender!"
Elisabetta rised on her feet and stepped on the next man.
"He is 20 years old and is 5'9'' tall and weights 11 pounds. Were are you from?"
"I don't know! I have an hole in my memory. They have found me in a rubbish dump. Show directors have allowed me to heal because I was in a very bad shape."
"I see it." Said the woman, seeing the remaing scars and bruises still covering is body.
"Well, mistery man... whatever you have been through, it can't be worse of what will happen to you tonight."
A thunderous laugh arised from the audience. She rised on her feet and smiled down at him. Her right boot grazed his face before stepping on the next man and pushing all her weight on him.
I wrote this story in the Italian Section some time ago. Some have liked it, so now I try to translate it in English the best I can.
Background (useful for not-Italian people).
In Italy there is a satyrical tv-show where sometimes appear two beautiful girls who dance a little on the stage.
These girl were called "veline" and the show director changes them once every year or two.
In the year 2002 the two current veline Elisabetta Canalis and Maddalena Corvaglia (see picture below), became so popular that almost every girl wanted to be a "velina" herself. So the contest for choosing the next veline became a show of its own.
http://img26.imageshack.us/img26/6228/100fm.th.jpg (http://img26.imageshack.us/my.php?image=100fm.jpg)http://img92.imageshack.us/img92/7229/veline18ou.th.jpg (http://img92.imageshack.us/my.php?image=veline18ou.jpg)
This is the fictional story (in 3 parts) of one episode of that show.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"Good evening, people of Venice! And welcome to tonight's show!". Two beautiful women, one blonde and the other dark haired, walked onstage and waved to the audience who crowded in the square to see the show.
Both women were wearing a brown leather skirt, a pale brown shirt, and brown leather knee high boots.
Like every night from a month ago they were about to introduce the girls for the contest of the new "veline".
They themselves have been veline in the last year and now were hosting the tv-program that would have crowned the new ones.
"Let's waste no time: here we have the girls for tonight!", said the blonde woman. And 6 girls jumped on stage and danced to the music, while reaching for their seats onstage. A camera made a close up of their faces, then their feet: they all wore sandals, shoes or boots, but always with stiletto heels.
"As you can see, this is the blonde girls' day", said the brunette, "so, Maddalena, I leave the girls in your hands, while I take care of the carpets".
"Sure, Elisabetta!"
Elisabetta walked towards the front end of the stage, where 6 men were competing in a contest of their own: one of them will have to honor to be the living walkway for the new veline.
This was actually a surviving contest: the last of them to be alive at the end of the night will be the winner.
Fixed to the stage, there were two parallel steel bars, with a distance of 9 feet between them.
Six men waited layng face up between the two bars: they were hanging with their wirst chained to one bar and ankles to the other bar. They wore nothing but a slip and between them and the ground below them, there were 5 feet of air.
Elisabetta was now on the edge. She paused her stride and talked to the audience.
"While the girls are blonde, the boys are skinny, tonight."
The show directors divided the contenders in two categories, and each night only one of them was onstage. The women were sorted in blondes and brunettes; the men in fat and skinny. That was meant to show men's ugliness.
Elisabetta stepped ahead and put her left foot on the groin of the first man. She slowly shifted all her weight on that foot, savouring the moment, and then put also the right foot next to the left, on his stomach, balancing her weight on both feet.
She noticed that the his body didn't bend downwards under her: production's assistants have tied him very well, removing that awful hammock effect.
Of course, being hanged so tight was very painful for them men, but they had time enought to scream in the afternoon, before the show.
Elisabetta turned rightwise on her heel, facing the head of the man. She saw the pain in his eyes and his tiny, already tortured body.
She was clearly heavier and taller (even without her 5 inches heels) than him, and he was suffering like hell, under her. She loved that thought.
She looked down at her feet and saw her boots' heels on his stomach and her soles on his chest.
Those boots were very quality ones. The show was an hit, so they can afford the best appareal for the two hosts.
The heel was high and very thin and the toe was thin, too. Those boots were the perfect torturing device for the men who happened to be beneath them: a kick with her toe would knock everyone out cold. A twist with her heel would throw him in an abyss of pain.
The beautiful woman wanted to test this theory and slowly shifted a little more of her weight on the heels. That was enought to make him grind his teeth and wince in pain.
"That's true!", she mumbled at herself, smiling, "The best results with a little effort."
But there was no time to waste, so she proceeded with her job.
"First contender is 72 years old, 5'8'' tall and just weights 11 pounds."
She kneeled on him: her left foot and right knee on his chest and her right boot's toe resting on his groin.
"Hi! Tell us something about you! Were do you come from and why you are here tonight?" and put her mic close to his mouth.
"I've been all my life a footstool for horsewomen: I get on four and they stepped on my back to mount their ride, but that day a woman wanted to ride me instead of her horse... She kicked and whipped and dug her spurs on me, commanding to run... She rode me all day long!"
"That's very interesting, but why did you came here?" She asked while twisting her left heel on his chest, meaning that he'd better make a brief summary.
"After that experience my back hurted bad. I was no more of use as a footstool, so my mistress sold me to the show productors and here I am."
"Well! Let's see the second contender!"
Elisabetta rised on her feet and stepped on the next man.
"He is 20 years old and is 5'9'' tall and weights 11 pounds. Were are you from?"
"I don't know! I have an hole in my memory. They have found me in a rubbish dump. Show directors have allowed me to heal because I was in a very bad shape."
"I see it." Said the woman, seeing the remaing scars and bruises still covering is body.
"Well, mistery man... whatever you have been through, it can't be worse of what will happen to you tonight."
A thunderous laugh arised from the audience. She rised on her feet and smiled down at him. Her right boot grazed his face before stepping on the next man and pushing all her weight on him.