Jennifer's Jewellery Shoot Ch. 02

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Jennifer's humiliation continues.
4.5k words
4.53
108.1k
56

Part 2 of the 7 part series

Updated 11/02/2022
Created 07/15/2013
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ArtyGee
ArtyGee
1,288 Followers

This is a work of erotic fiction. None of the events described here have ever happened. Although I encourage readers to give me feedback both positive and negative, nasty anonymous comments are not appreciated.

This and all subsequent chapters were co-authored with one of my readers, who is a big fan of the John Norman GOR series. All references to Gor and things Gorean refer to the works of John Norman. These references are related back to Jennifer's first exposure to BDSM and how it shaped her current fantasies.

If you have not read Jennifer's Jewellery Shoot yet, I encourage you to do so. This story will make more sense if you do, because we pick up as she returns to her apartment.


The driver broke her reverie, awakening her from a soothing nap.

"We're back at your apartment Miss."

Opening her eyes, she was horrified to find her right hand under the short skirt playing a sonata on her still wet and oozing pussy. She jerked her hand out from under the skirt and looked quickly to the driver. He was standing there with a smile on his face, the door wide open, having seen it all.

"I hope Miss had a pleasant ride."

"Oh, yes, thank you," she mumbled.

She gathered her bag and quickly exiting the back seat. Without another word, she walked swiftly across the sidewalk and up the stairs leading to her place. Her senses were magnified, acutely aware that she was nearly naked and a sight for any passerby; Her high heels cracking like fireworks on the 4th of July as she scampered up the stairs.

Typing in the security code, she turned to look back. The driver was still watching, the same delighted grin on his face. "Fuck," she silently mumbled, and quickly entered the apartment complex.

Arriving safely at her apartment, she entered, closed the door, dropped the bag, then turned and leaned back against the door. With her head titled back and eyes to the ceiling, a sense of relief allowed her to audibly sigh.

Exhaling a huff of air, she hoped her arrival had not awakened her roommate Steph. A check of the clock revealed it was nearly 2:30 AM. She gathered her bag, removed her heels, and tiptoed to her bedroom. She was exhausted, yet needed another shower to wash away the sweat and imagined filth from her skin. As she stripped, her phone suddenly began to sing, buried deep in the bag "What the..." she whispered, and searched through her musky clothes to retrieve it. "How...," she continued, not finishing her sentence, wondering who, what and how.

She did not recognize the number, but quickly opened the text message. With the phone in her right hand, her left flew upward to cover her mouth in shock. It was a picture of her, naked from the waist up, gagged, head thrown back, eyes rolled up, in the throes of orgasm. The text read: We have a video, also, deary. Bet mom would be proud of her darling. 616-555-..... Same time tomorrow night. Don't be late.

With a silent scream, she fell to the bed, clutching her stomach and covering her mouth at the same time.

Jennifer tossed and turned all night. She had no idea what she was going to do about the blackmailer's demand. She came from a strict family. They would never understand her posing topless, and if they saw a video of her orgasm, they would disown her instantly. She eventually fell into a fitfully sleep, but visions of Gorean slaves and the photo shoot, roamed through her dreams and she got little rest.

It was late when she finally rolled out of her bed. Steph had already gone off to her job, but had left a package and a note in the kitchenette. Jennifer read the note:

"This arrived for you just as I was leaving. Limo driver delivered it.????

Heard you come in late. Didn't want to wake you.

You must tell me all tonight!

Steph"

She knew instantly who had sent the package. With trembling hands she opened it and gasped. The shorts were ridiculously short. More like a thong actually. Yes, a thong with some lace material to make it into something resembling shorts. Anyone wearing them would be exposing most of her butt cheeks and hips through the lace. The top was nothing more than a strip of sheer material which passed behind her neck, crossed over her breasts and was hooked behind her back, leaving the remainder of her torso uncovered. The black platform stilettos completed the whorish outfit. Under it all lay the collar. A thin metal collar. How had they known?

The enclosed note was very specific:

"Unless you want your mom to see the pics and video, from yesterday, you will lock the collar around your neck, put on these clothes, and be ready when the limo arrives at two. Make sure to bring the metal gag with you. We'll be waiting for you. Until then rest up, you're going to need it."

Jennifer fingered the material of the shorts, then held them up against her hips. They were her size, of course, but she saw immediately that to wear them, she would have to trim her pubes to avoid having them show through the lace. Then, with a little shiver, she picked up the collar and inspected it. It was thin metal with a D ring on three sides and a locking device on the back. As she felt the cold metal, she thought of one of her favorite Gorean characters.

Elinor Britton. She was amazed that the name came to her so quickly. They had never met, of course, because Elinor was a fictional character, yet Jennifer knew her intimately. It was the first paperback she had purchased, Slavegirl of Gor. The earthgirl on the cover, kneeling, thighs spread, and a collar of steel around her neck, from which an unbreakable chain confined her to a stake in the ground.

So many nights, in the darkness of her bedroom, Jennifer had put her hands around her own neck, feeling the imaginary steel, and fingering the fantasy lock. Then one hand would slide down and gently entice her clit from its hood until finally she would reach a crescendo. She had always stuffed a pair of clean panties in her mouth, to stifle any cry that her parents might hear.

And now she was being ordered to encircle her own neck with a real collar. Could they know? Could these men be slavers from Gor? No, of course not. Gor was a fantasy, and besides, it would be a male that would collar his slave, and here, she was being asked to collar herself. Yet, undeniably, her pussy was reacting, the magma within, nearing a boiling point. Noooo, she cried to herself, they cannot see this happening to me!

It was starting to get late and she still needed to get herself ready. She would make sure this was the last meeting with Duane and his assistants. She needed to assert her authority. She quickly ate a light breakfast, and headed for the shower, grabbing her razor on the way in. With the steaming hot water peppering her skin she first lathered, then shaved herself down to a thin landing strip.

Taking the wand down, she aimed the spray directly at her crotch to rinse off. Suddenly her mind flashed to the warehouse. She was standing there, half naked in front of those men. Half naked with her hands cuffed behind her back and Jake. Jake was putting the gag in her mouth and tracing her lips and teeth with his finger. Her entire body started to jerk and shake. She pressed the shower head firmly against her crotch and groaned loudly as the orgasm washed over her.

"Oh my God." She thought as she started to recover from her cum. "What is happening to me?"

She fixed her hair and applied her make-up in the mirror. There was not much she could do with her eyes though. No make-up on earth could hide that strange haunted look which was the combined result of fear, lack of sleep, and arousal. She had to look just right, however. She knew her looks could be used as a weapon, and she was not above using it against these men.

When she put on the clothes and looked in the mirror, a total whore was looking back. Her entire butt was plainly visible through the lace, and she could see right through the top to watch her nipples harden. She had never felt so exposed or so cheap. Despite those feelings, or perhaps because of them, she felt that little tickle of arousal in the pit of her tummy. She could not go out in public like this, however, so she searched her closet and put on a light cotton wrap she usually used at the beach.

Now for the collar. She had waited until the last moment. She did not want to anger Duane, who for the moment held some damning evidence. Her fingers traced around the collar and her breathing became rapid and shallow. Examining the lock mechanism, she could see small latches, but no place for a key. She considered locking it without putting it on, making sure she could unlock it, but what if she couldn't. If she went without the collar on, Duane would ruin her life. Finally, with a sigh, she encircled her neck with the open ends in front. Looking at herself in the mirror and taking a deep breath, she pushed the ends together. CLICK. The sound of the latches connecting made her gasp.

Immediately, she tried to pull the ends apart, twisting and turning them, pushing in and out, but nothing worked. She shuddered as she realized that she was collared until Duane released her. That realization caused the little tickle to blossom into full blown arousal. She needed to get away from the mirror and calm down before the limo arrived.

Just as that thought ran through her mind, the intercom buzzed. She quickly checked the clock and saw that it was two already. She told the driver that she would be right down, grabbed her bag, checked that she had packed the gag, and without thinking about her costume, headed out the door.

"Jennifer?"

Turning, she saw Ben, an older friendly neighbor on the first floor.

"Hi Ben." She answered without turning.

"Looks like you are headed out for a wild party, girl," he laughed.

"Ha, yes, swim party. Gotta run, bye!"

Swim party, she thought. If only...

When she reached the street, the driver was standing there smiling that same smile he'd had last night. She watched his eyes as they passed up and down over her body taking in every detail, and saw the material of his slacks push out a bit as he started to harden.

"You look very fetching today Miss" he soothed as he took her hand and helped her through the door into the limo. "I took the liberty of providing a fresh bottle of champagne for you to enjoy during the trip." This as he closed the door on her little sanctuary.

"OK." She thought. "I'm sure to need my wits about me if I'm ever going to get the video and pictures back, so I'll just have one to help calm my nerves."

She ended up having two. In her exhausted condition, that was all it took to settle her nerves and allow her to doze off. Like the night before. Her dreams were flashes of Gorean fantasy mixed with the reality of yesterday's humiliation. She was so far gone, that she didn't know they had arrived until the driver was shaking her shoulder. When she awoke, she could smell the unmistakable odor of female arousal. She opened her eyes and looked down to see a little wet spot on her shorts from her leaking juices. She quickly glanced up to the driver's face and saw that his eyes were also glued to her crotch as he roused her.

"We're here Miss" He smiled, taking his hand off her shoulder and extending it to her. "Allow me to help you out."

When she tottered into the studio this time the same crew was there. Duane walked over quickly and took her hand.

"My. You look very good in that outfit, deary, though I don't believe the wrap was part of what you were told to wear. Let's take that off, and next time don't add anything to what you are given to wear. OK?"

He took the loose end from the right side to remove the flimsy cotton drape. Jennifer, still a bit groggy and warm from the champagne, resisted slightly.

"Please, wait. I followed your instructions, now please, let's just call it even and give me your word that you won't use the more revealing of the pictures from yesterday. Oh yeah, and this collar seems to be stuck. I can't get it to unlatch. Please take it off me now!"

Her left arm was still caught in the wrap, and as she twisted her body, she continued her rapid-fire resistance.

"OK, not so fast. Now, is it a deal?"

He tossed her wrap over a chair to the side of the photo area.

"We can talk about it later, deary. Time is money and the crew is on the clock. Now, why don't you give us a little catwalk action?"

"But..." she tried to reply, but Duane shoved her towards the cameras and she felt the need to obey this small request. Jennifer walked around the studio once to help shake off the cobwebs and then stopped in front of Duane.

"Listen Duane, I've done what you asked," she attempted to speak with authority. "I'm just here to make sure you don't do anything with those pictures and videos and then I am going to leave. You can use the pictures from early in yesterday's session if you must, but no more. If I have to, I'll go to the police. Got that?"

"Oh baby, I love it when you talk tough." He laughed. "If that's all you wanted why the sexy get-up? And why the collar? You're not here for the pictures deary. You're here for a repeat performance."

"That's not true! I just did this in response to your note and to hold up my end of the bargain. Now please, remove this collar and promise me you won't show any of these pictures and videos to anyone I know." Her tone lacked authority. She knew she was begging.

He was doing it again. baby..honey...deary...It was so demeaning. At the mention of the collar, her hand involuntarily moved to her throat and traced round the metal.

As she was distracted, Jake moved behind her and grabbed her arms. He soon had thick metal cuffs attached to her wrists which he clipped together behind her back. The instant she was secured, her tummy began to melt. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't be responding to them this way. She wanted the pictures and then to go home, but even as these thoughts went through her mind, she pictured Gor.

"Hey, stop it! Let me go! You are doing this against my will and you can't get away with it!"

With her hands secured, both men stepped back. Suddenly there was a flash and she realized that the photographer had begun shooting again. As her nipples came to full attention, she wondered if they had the video running this time. Although she was still dressed, the sheer top did nothing to hide her excitement as the photographer continued.

When he stepped back, Jake and Duane took over, unhooked her cuffs and clipped them to the rings on the sides of her collar. With her wrists fastened as they were, her elbows pointed down and out, she could do nothing to cover herself when Duane undid her top and pulled it off. Jennifer tried desperately to move her arms to cover her exposed breasts, but she only succeeded in pushing them together lewdly in front of her. As she did this, the men all groaned.

Duane moved in front of the bound girl, grabbed her shoulders and held her still, staring into her eyes. She felt one pair of hands hold her hips steady as another pair hooked the waistband of her shorts and started pulling them down over her hips. OH GAWD. There were three of them on her now. Slowly the shorts were pulled down her legs until they reached her ankles. Then each foot was lifted in turn to allow their complete removal. When the men stepped back, the camera clicked wildly.

"Please, stop! Let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone and you can just keep these photos for whatever purpose you have! I'm not kidding," she yelled. "Let me go or you are going to regret it!"

"Honey, you're making this difficult, which is perfect! By the time we splice together the footage from the video, it will be a major hit on the Internet. "Struggling School Girl." You will be famous, baby!"

"Nooo, I don't want to be this kind of famous. Let me go!"

But her struggles were futile against Duane and his crew. Before she knew what they were doing, they had fitted her into a black armbinder. Once it was secured, Jake pulled Jennifer's arms up into a strappado position. She had never felt so exposed. Bent into this position, her naked ass and pussy were displayed for all to see. She couldn't get her head up to see in front of her, but she could still turn to the side and when she did she saw that Jake was moving towards the bag she brought along. He reached inside and she groaned to see him pull out the metal gag. With a wide grin, he approached her and said, "Open wide."

Jennifer had to make a stand. She was not a willing participant in this humiliating event. She clamped her jaws tight. Jake looked to Duane for advice and raised his eyebrows. Without a word, Duane walked over to Jennifer, within inches of her face, pulled out his cell.

"What was that number? Oh yes, 616-555 ... "

Jennifer knew he would complete the call.

"Please, no, I'll open, but please make this quick and let me go."

She opened her mouth and felt the metal touch her lips and teeth. At the same moment, she felt a finger trace along her pussy lips. She jerked in her bondage and wailed in protest.

"God. There's something about this gag that really flips her switch." said Duane. "Never saw anything like it."

Arms locked together behind her, doubled at the waist with the metal bit in her teeth, Jennifer was now almost oblivious to her surroundings. Her rational brain was shutting down, replaced by a more primal consciousness. A consciousness centered on sex. She felt her pussy flood with juice and a small rivulet run down her thigh, causing her to moan in despair; Horrified that her body was betraying her.

She heard the clink of the chain before she saw it. How did they know? She moaned unintelligibly around the metal bit as Jake attached a length of chain between the front of her collar and an eyebolt in the floor. Metal collar, arms bound, chained to the ground. Slavers of Gor. Another flood of her juices escaped to trickle down her leg.

Every eye was glued to her in her predicament. The photographer moved around her taking shot after shot. Front, side, and several from the rear. She was so humiliated by her position. She knew that those pictures would clearly show her wet pussy, there was nothing she could do to quell the moisture

When the flashes stopped, she assumed that she was about to be subjected to a different bondage device, but instead she felt a tentative touch to her exposed rear. She tried to turn. Tried to see what was going on, but was virtually immobilized by her position. Although she struggled, she felt the hand move across and cup her sex. She knew her moisture would give her away, and that was confirmed when she felt a finger stroke along her pussy lips.

"hmmm. Nice and wet. I think she's ready"

"pgueeeze gnooo. Ai gnaaa irgin!" She frantically cried.

"What did she say?" Jake asked.

"I think she said she's a virgin. Is that true, slut?"

"essss, pgueeeeze..."

"Well, I'll be. This just gets curiouser and curiouser," laughed Duane. "Now then, this is your chance baby, would you like us to take your precious virginity? Free of charge. Just think of it as a perk of the job."

"gnooooooooo" She cried aloud.

"Your words say No, but your body says yes, slut."

"gnooooooo, eeeze gnoooooooooo," she begged and wriggled in despair.

"No worries, deary. We don't want an unwilling slut. It won't be long before you beg us to take that cherry; Plenty of time."

Unable to resist either physically or mentally, she felt the fat finger slip easily along her lips, spreading her moisture all around her cunt. Yes that's what it was now, a cunt. Slowly the finger spread her wetness up and down until it finally reached her clit. As she felt it make contact and start to slowly circle around, she moaned and coughed into her gag.

"Oh Ghhod, pguese" She formed the words carefully around the metal in her mouth. "PGUESE GNO" Was the best she could do before she came to a shattering climax. Her knees buckled and she dropped towards the floor, suspended by her bound arms. The flood of her juices ran down over her clit, allowing the finger to continue sliding round and round, extending her orgasm and causing her to continue to spasm until she passed out.

ArtyGee
ArtyGee
1,288 Followers
12