tagMind ControlOffice Photographer Ch. 01

Office Photographer Ch. 01

byrebf©

He moved her left leg up, bending it at the hip and knee, resting her thigh open on a pillow. Her right leg he left straight, but with her other leg bent, her pussy was now open to his gaze, and his camera. He looked through the lens as her pussy lips parted, folds glistening as she got wetter and wetter.

Mmm, I see someone's almost ready, he said, adjusting his focus and -- click! -- taking a picture of her pussy.

She made no response, but clutched the pillow she was laying on tighter. He backed down the bed and adjusted his lens to take in her whole body: her shoulders tensed and hunched, head face down as her upper body was propped up on a pillow, her weight resting on her elbows down on the bed. Her naked back curved down to meet her buttocks, perfect golden globes, now parted a little as her legs were spread. Click! he took a picture of her back, then her ass, then he couldn't help himself, he had to touch her.

Her body shrank away a little, trying to push itself deeper into the bed as his hand smoothed down her back and over her ass. His fingers trailed between her cheeks, down to her pussy as she unwillingly pushed back into his hand.

He chuckled at her body's betrayal and slipped a finger inside her dripping channel.

I think somebody needs something in here, he murmured, sliding his finger in and out, feeling the walls of her pussy grip around him, desperate to be filled with something bigger.

He leaned back as far as he could and Click! took a picture of his finger inside of her. Pulling his finger out, he got off the bed and walked to her head, holding up his camera with one hand, and putting his wet finger in her face.

Suck it, he commanded.

She tried to turn her head from it, not wanting to taste herself, but his voice was too strong.

Chelsea, he said, suck off my finger.

Against her will, her head turned back and her pink lips parted so he could slip his finger inside.

Oh, perfect, he said, when her big green eyes looked up at him, and Click! he took the picture of her sucking his finger off.

Hold that thought, he told her.

As Jim began to undress, he couldn't help gloating over how perfectly his plan had worked.

***

He was a top consultant at a science and engineering consulting firm, with friends spread across the world in many different fields of science. A buddy of his had been working on gene isolation and artificial intelligence research for years, and had somehow discovered a way to tap into people's natural abilities and enhance them. By isolating the properties of a person's particular ability and basically giving them a chemical that was a second dose of their own particular molecular make-up, he had found a way to strengthen those abilities two-fold. Natural athletes became unbeatable, artists created masterpieces, and, in Jim's case, his natural charisma became irresistible. Literally.

His friend, Brian, who had developed this science, had also developed a way to control it. A little trigger in the lobe of the ear would control the release of the chemical that enhanced the ability. Jim could lead his normally charismatic life, and then on the occasions he needed a little extra push of charm, he would just nonchalantly scratch his earlobe, surreptitiously squeezing it a certain amount of time to release a certain amount of chemical. It wasn't long before Jim realized that releasing this chemical basically got him anything he wanted. The other person was powerless, completely unable to resist his charms, a fact that helped Jim not only in the boardroom, but in the bedroom as well. As the chemical was essentially an extra dose of something his body was already producing, his body would automatically replenish his supply, so he would never run out, once the procedure had taken place.

When his firm had hired their new round of interns, Chelsea in particular had caught his eye. Light brown hair with natural streaks of blonde fell down to the middle of her back. Big green eyes and tan skin. She was about 5' 8", with lots of leg and a bubble butt, nicely showcased in the pinstriped skirts she wore to work. She had a slim but athletic build, which only enhanced the fact that she had at least C-cup breasts filling out her button-down shirts. Though it was hard to hide the fact that she was gorgeous, she did not dress provocatively, with skirts ending below her knees, and her shirts buttoned almost to the top, though tucked into her skirt with a wide belt accentuating her slim waist.

His already erect dick grew a little bit harder, thinking about how he had been charming and flattering to all the interns, but singled Chelsea out to receive the most of his attentions. He had kept it very office-appropriate so as not to raise any red flags with her, and then yesterday, after months of waiting and planning, he had made his move. He called the office, saying he had left some important papers there, and suggesting that Chelsea bring them by his house on her way home, knowing she lived on the same side of town he did.

She never suspected a thing as she knocked on his door. Pulling on his earlobe just a little bit, Jim had thanked her for bringing the papers to him and had invited her inside for an after-work drink. With his extra charm, Chelsea didn't really question it, and came inside willingly. As they sipped some wine and chatted amicably, Jim turned the conversation to his hobby, photography. When Chelsea expressed a polite interest in seeing some of his work, Jim had suggested having a quick photo shoot with her. At Chelsea's hesitation, Jim had pinched his ear again, suggesting there was no harm in it, and she was so beautiful, she was sure to be wonderfully photogenic. Blushing from the wine and the compliments, Chelsea accepted.

Stand over there, Jim had said, pointing to the dining room table. I'll just get my camera.

He went into his office and picked up his camera and a remote. Slipping the camera strap around his neck, he went back into the dining room, and using the remote in his pocket, turned on the video camera hiding behind a potted tree. He went around the room, turning on lamps, all the while telling Chelsea how excited he was to take her picture, how beautiful she looked, how great the pictures were going to be.

Chelsea had finished her glass of wine and was leaning back against the dining room table. Holding his earlobe, Jim released a lot of chemicals, more than he had ever used with Chelsea, and then prepared to gently test the waters.

Holding up his camera, Jim took a few pictures from different angles of her leaning against the table.

Put your hands on the table behind you, Jim suggested, and grip the edge.

This position thrust Chelsea's breasts forward against her shirt, straining her buttons against her large breasts. Now for the test: she was either going to slap him and storm out, or she was going to listen to the charm in his voice.

Why don't you unbutton a few buttons, Jim suggested, looking into Chelsea's eyes. Your shirt looks a little tight.

Slowly, with a small puzzled look on her face, Chelsea began unbuttoning the buttons of her shirt.

There you go. Jim smiled in triumph. Just a few, down to your belt there.

Her shirt now open to the belt circling her waist, Jim could see the silver and pink silk and lace camisole she wore beneath, her breasts pushed up, half-exposed.

How nice, he told her, snapping away. Now put your hands back on the table behind you, there you go, and throw your head back.

Her hair was up in a twist, held in place with a clip.

Why don't you take your hair down, Jim suggested, and she did, Jim taking a picture of her hair tumbling down her back.

Now keep your head back, Jim said, and reach down to lift your skirt up.

With her right hand, Chelsea grabbed the edge of her skirt and began to raise it up her thighs, revealing long, smooth legs encased in nude-colored stockings. Jim couldn't wait to see more of what she wore beneath her work clothes, and was rewarded when a garter came into view.

Oh, that's nice, he said, hold that there, as he kneeled in front of her to take a close-up picture of the pink bow on the garter clip.

Now higher, he told her, and Chelsea raised the right corner of her skirt almost to her waist.

Jim could now see the silver garter belt she was wearing and the peek of a sheer thong. The back of the skit was caught between her butt cheeks and the table, preventing it from exposing her completely.

Lift your ass off the table, Chelsea, Jim told her. He was rewarded when the whole right side of her tight skirt lifted and he could now see her shaved pussy lips through the sheer thong, the lacy bikini string matching her garter belt and disappearing around her right hip.

You're a naughty one, aren't you, he chuckled, as the camera went Click! and he took a picture of her panty-covered pussy.

Now, Chelsea, he told her, as her hand dropped the skirt and she began to look a little frightened and confused, don't tell me you're done modeling for me already.

I...I...I'm not sure I should be here, mumbled Chelsea, beginning to rebutton her shirt.

Jim stood back up and pinched his earlobe again, harder and longer, watching her do her buttons back up.

Chelsea, he said after a moment, stop that.

Chelsea's hands stilled, her eyes wide and dazed as her hands obeyed what he said.

Why do you unbutton that all the way, instead of buttoning it back up, he told her.

Staring at him, Chelsea did what he asked, unclasping her belt from around her waist, and unbuttoning her shirt, pulling it free from her skirt as she did so.

There, doesn't that feel nice? he said. Just let it hang open like that.

Jim let his camera hang from the strap around his neck, freeing his hands to touch her. Holding the edges of her shirt, he gently spread them open on either sides of her breasts, his thumbs just brushing her nipples as he did so. Chelsea gave a little whimper and her nipples hardened into stiff buds beneath her camisole and bra.

He could now see her, and she was even more spectacular than he had dared hope to believe. Her skin was like golden honey, her breasts pushed up in a demi-cup bra and matching camisole to form tantalizing cleavage. He trailed a finger over her shoulder, following the strap of her bra, until his finger rested on her breast.

Mr...Barker...I'm-

Shhh, Jim whispered, pinching his earlobe again. He stared into her eyes as he held, longer and longer, releasing power into his system. His finger dipped below the edge of her bra to pluck at her right nipple, raising it above the edge of the lace.

Don't resist me, he told her, leaning down to circle her nipple with his tongue. Don't you want your picture taken?

He stepped back and snapped a shot of her nipple peeking out above the lacy camisole. He groaned as his dick strained against his pants at this tantalizing view. Stepping closer again, he now slipped her left nipple over the edge of her camisole, and stepped back to take a picture of both hardened peaks exposed to him.

Now sit up on the table, he told her.

As she scooted back onto the table, Jim moved a couple of chairs in front and a little to the side of her. The horizontal rungs on the back of the chair were the perfect height for her to slide her high-heeled shoes onto.

Perfect, Jim told her as she raised her tight skirt up her thighs in order to spread them to reach the chairs. Now lean back again, there you go, push those breasts up for me Chelsea.

She did, pushing her chest out as he took a picture of her sprawled there, focusing on her cleavage, and then between her thighs. Her legs spread, she was open before him, her pussy barely covered by the wisp of underwear. He was able to see where the thong disappeared into the crack of her ass. He knelt on the floor and looked up through the camera lens. Click! the camera captured the picture, the view up her skirt.

Take off your shirt, he told her, and Chelsea slid it from her shoulders before throwing it into a corner. Now lay back on the table.

Chelsea lay all the way back down, her breasts flattening a little as her whole body was now on the table.

Chelsea, why don't you lift your skirt to your waist for me? he suggested.

Chelsea's hands moved down her body to grasp her skirt and pull it up her thighs to her waist. The new straightened position of her arms against her breasts thrust them back up and forced them further out of the bra. Jim climbed onto the table and stood above her, taking a picture of her sprawled there: her hair fanned out, her hard nipples pointed to the ceiling, and the wet spot on her thong, making it almost completely transparent.

Get up off the table, he told her, climbing down himself, and take off your skirt.

Chelsea sat up and slid off the table. Unzipping the skirt in the back, Chelsea dropped her skirt to the floor and kicked it out of the way into the same corner as her other clothes.

Take off your camisole, he told her, taking pictures of her pulling it over her head, her body stretching up, one long lean length of her, her feet in her strappy high-heeled shoes, the nude stockings climbing up her thighs to her sliver and pink garter belt over her matching thong, her tight abs, and then her demi-cup matching bra, breasts exposed.

Turn around and lean over the table, he told her. Lean down on your elbows.

She turned around and there were her perfect buttocks, bisected by a silver string. She leaned over and her bubble butt was pushed out. Jim groaned again as he took a picture of her perfect ass, wanting to step up behind her and thrust in until he came. He was rock-hard beneath his suit pants, but he knew he had to wait.

Stepping behind her, he ran his hands over her ass, feeling her muscles tense as he touched her again. She didn't like it, but she had to respond when he told her to spread her legs. Sliding his hand between her thighs, he could feel her wet pussy through her barely-there panties.

You like this, don't you, you little slut? he said to her, rubbing her pussy for a moment.

When she didn't answer, he stepped back and spanked her ass, feeling the globes tremble and reveling in her squeak of surprise. Not too hard, he did it again, just enough to feel the power of spanking her, and enjoy the handful of ass he grabbed each time he did it.

Tell me, he told her, spanking her again. Do you like this?

Yes! she gasped as he spanked her again. Both of his hands grabbed her ass and he massaged her cheeks, pulling them apart to see the rosebud between them, pushing them up, and then letting them down to slide his hands down her thighs.

Stepping back, he took pictures of her luscious ass, then he moved around the table to take pictures of her exposed cleavage.

Look at me, he told her, those green eyes confused and aroused as he took pictures of her beautiful face and plump breasts pushed up between her elbows.

Take your bra off, he told her, taking pictures as she reached between her breasts, unsnapping the clasp that had been covered by a bow.

Finally, finally, he was staring at her full breasts as she revealed them, letting the bra slide off her arms onto the floor.

Stand back up, he told her, and cup your breasts. Offer them to me.

Her hands lifted her breasts up, large but perky, with big brown nipples capping them.

That's it, he told her, suddenly getting a great idea, play with your nipples, rub them between your fingers.

Click! he took pictures of her playing with her breasts, and even told her to lift one up to her mouth to lick the nipple.

He could see she didn't want to, so he had to tell her twice, and finally her hand lifted up her right breast, and he got a picture of her tongue circling her hard nipple.

We're going to take this upstairs, he told her. Come with me.

He watched her walk in front of him up the stairs, barely resisting the urge to sink his teeth into the perfect jiggling flesh in front of him. They walked down the hallway into his room where the bed was waiting. The wrought iron bed was piled high with pillows, gray satin sheets and a comforter that almost matched Chelsea's garter belt.

Jim reached into his pocket to click the remote to turn on the cameras he had set up in here.

Sit on the bed and take off the rest of your clothes, he told her. She looked at him, more alert now and not wanting to obey.

Pulling on his earlobe, he watched told her again. Chelsea, sit down and take off your shoes, stockings, and garter belt.

With his extra charisma, she had no choice, and he took pictures of her unbuckling her shoes, unsnapping her garters, and sliding her stockings down her legs.

Hold on, he told her as her hands reached for the sides of her thong. Stand up.

He knelt in front of her with his camera, taking another picture of her almost visible pussy.

Now slowly slide them down.

As the panties slid down her legs, Jim took picture after picture of her pussy coming into view, shaved clean so he and his camera could see her little clitoris peeking out from between her plump pussy lips.

Get on the bed, he told her, on your stomach, leaning on a pillow.

Once he had her there, he had arranged her leg up on another pillow, opening her pussy to his gaze for the first time.

And now, here he was, taking off his clothes, getting ready to finally fuck her for the first time.

Tell me, Chelsea, he demanded, naked from the waist up, undoing his pants. Do you like to be fucked from behind?

Chelsea didn't make a sound but hid her head in the pillow as his pants slipped to the floor.

Holding onto his ear again, Jim released another round of chemicals, again making him nearly irresistible.

C'mon, Chelsea, he said to her, nonchalantly sliding a hand over her back and her ass, giving her ass a little tap to watch it move. I'm going to fuck you from behind first, he told her, so you might as well tell me.

I...I've never done it that way, came the muffled response.

Jim laughed. Well, then, you're going to enjoy this.

Fully naked now, his eight-inch cock fully erect against his belly, Jim climbed back onto the bed. He gently pulled the pillow out from under her knee and told her to close her legs.

Now raise up on your knees, he told her, and push your ass out to me.

Reluctantly, she did what she was told, her perky round ass raised into the air just for him.

Spread your legs a little, there you go.

Jim took another picture of her ass raised in the air, her pussy opening for him, wet and waiting for him. Holding his dick in his left hand, he smeared his precum around the head, pumping his shaft a few times. Chelsea whimpered when she first felt the head of his cock slowly slide around her pussy lips.

Don't worry, baby, he told her. You're nice and wet. You're going to love this.

Feeling her juices on his dick was intoxicating. He took a picture of his dick against her pussy, just barely slipping the tip inside. Slowly, slowly, he slid into her hot tunnel, the sides of her pussy gripping him tightly, the pace torture for them both while he took shot after shot. Finally, he set his camera to the side. His video cameras would have to do the recording now. He could get stills from them later, if needed.

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