The Photo Shoot

The next few hours are spent going over the things he wishes from me in the photo shoot and my relaying of my own restrictions. We spent much of the time parleying back and forth on what I would and would not do. Eventually, he tosses his hands up and gives in on the last thing- I will not be photographed nude from behind. I am happy; that was the only thing I really cared about. I don't think my lips are the most wonderful looking and the thought of all of those armchair bondage experts playing with themselves to my pussy is sickening. Not to say I want them doing it anyway, I've just come to accept them doing it over my body (which is sort of a turn on, if only they weren't usually overweight, ugly, and probably airport security guards).

Finally, the plane lands and we move into this throbbing mob of people in the airport. My word, there were a lot of people leaving. We bustled, or rather I was bustled through the airport. My bags were fetched and I find myself in a limo without saying more than maybe 5 words to anyone. It was, of course, nighttime, so little could be seen through the tinted windows. I shortly gave up trying and just leaned back to take a nap, well try to take a nap. The road became bumpy rather quickly so I spent most of it leaned back and bouncing around. When we do finally reach the hotel, I simply get my key from the desk, reach my room and collapse.

The next day is spent speaking with the photographer, going over the things he has to get and the positions I need to cover along with the things I won't allow him to capture on film. We spent so long talking and planning that I just go to bed after. It was late, well it felt late to me, and I was so tired. I do remember thinking that I really must get out of the hotel one night and see the town, but the thought is swiftly swept away by sleep.

The next day, Tuesday for those of you not keeping track, I am woken by the phone- a wake up call was ordered for me at 5 A.M. Grumbling sleepily, I stagger to the bathroom eventually and take a shower. Awake somewhat now, I grab some clothes out of my suitcase, get dressed, toss my hair about for a few minutes and walk out of my room, running right into Joe. I had been too busy looking down in my purse to be looking up and see him standing there, hand raised to the door, I assume with the wide eyes of a deer caught in headlights as I open my door and walk right into him.

We both fall to the ground with an "oomph", my purse falling out of my hands and flopping open fully, spilling a large amount of my personal items out- including my body suit. I had gotten it early on after I found photographs of myself showing everything but what color my insides are. These ingenious things are wonderful. With the right lighting, you can't see it anywhere except over my pussy. So never again will I see my pussy displayed to anyone who cares to get one of the magazines I have appeared in. For the most part, the photographers and companies involved haven't cared and even liked that I wear one.

I gasp as I see it fall out onto the floor and turn a few shades of red, then turn a few more shades as Joe picks it up and unrolls it. He looks at it for a moment, looks at me, then folds it up and sticks it in his pocket. Before I can say anything he reaches down, picks me up and bends over to get the rest of my stuff into my purse.

"Don't worry Catherine, you won't need it today. It's raining, so an outdoors photo shoot won't be good. Instead, we are going up to my room and doing some practice shots with and without the Garibaldi harness. Frank wants to be sure of your lighting qualities and what lights he will need to use."

"Well, okay, but why your room?" I ask him as he straightens up, hands me my purse, grabs an arm and walks us toward the elevator.

"I have a suite and we need the extra room for this. Besides, it has large windows and natural light is a good thing, Frank insisted. I'm not getting it, but he's the photographer. I'm just here to make sure the harness is put on the right way and to check it out beforehand." He tells me with a wink as he pushes the button for the top floor.

The whole 30 minutes on that elevator, I know it wasn't actually but it felt that way, I was trembling a bit. To say that I was nervous was an understatement. Two men and me alone in a room on the top floor? If they decide to do something to me, I couldn't stop them. As the doors open on the top floor, Joe puts his hand to my back, causing me to jump at least a foot. He laughs and leans in to me, whispering in my ear that I had nothing to worry about.

We walk a short distance to his door, which is the only door up here. My word, he doesn't have a suite, he has a floor to himself! This must cost him a fortune. Of course, I'm costing him a fortune to, but he offered it to me. I didn't say pay me this much. Inside his suite, I see Frank and Terry, at which I relax. Terry is a wonderful man and very gay. I'm not kidding. He skips about, clasps his hands before him at his chin, waves his head about constantly and has one of those childish voices. He skips right on over to us, chirping on and on about how he is so glad to see me, to be working with me again and then pulls me off to one side for his girl talks. Seriously, he actually said "girl talk".

He asked about my guy, if we were serious yet. The last time I had seen Terry, I had just gotten with my guy and had been dating for a month. We spent a few minutes talking. I learned he had broken up with his last boyfriend, a "true drama queen if you know what I mean", as he put it.

We stop talking as Frank yells "makeup!". Terry dutifully grabs out the bag he had at his waist and turns to Frank with a pout.

"Well thanks for ruining our girl talk Frank, see if I join you tonight," he tells Frank, somehow managing to keep a straight face before turning back to me and giggling like mad.

Frank looks at him for a moment, turns around and walks away muttering something about fairies. Before Terry can turn and say something, he had the open mouth shocked look of a not-really-hurt-but-acting-like-it gay man, Joe snaps out "Enough!". Terry closes his mouth, pulls out some mascara and starts applying. The entire time his skilled hands are doing me up, he is muttering under his breath about how men don't appreciate us women, not enough sense to know the right one when he sees it, and on and on. Somehow, I managed to not burst out laughing, though I did a lot of giggling as he continued with my makeup and muttering.

Terry stops talking with an "eep" as Frank comes back over slaps his butt and grabs me, pulling me by the arm we head over toward Joe and a very large bed, pausing only a moment to look over his shoulder and tell Terry that he did a nice job for a woman. Then hiding behind me as Terry launches a compact at him, then finds himself ducking away from me as I hit him upside the head.

"Please don't hurt the cameraman." A laughing Joe tells us both, Terry having come up besides me and was bent over saying something to Frank.

I walk past a still-laying Frank and put my foot to his chest, giving him a little push; he even grunts and falls back as I pull my foot back and continue on. I reach a now-giggling-into-his-hand Joe who leans over to me and asks if I am wearing presentable underwear. I give him one of my looks and he stares back at me with a "What?" expression before telling me that Frank wishes to see skin so he can get a good knowledge of what kind of light will work best with me.

"Oh all right, do you have a place I can go to undress?" I ask him with a sigh. I do ever so wish that he wouldn't bring things up right at the very end.

Joe turns and yells out "Terry, sheet!" Terry springs halfway across the room to get a folded sheet from a chair before skipping over to us with the sheet clutched to his chest. Reaching us, he shoos me over toward the bed, going on about how I shouldn't worry, those lecherous men won't see and how he will tell me if I am showing anything. Apparently getting to the right spot, he stops me, which is a good thing. I had maybe a foot more before running into a dresser filled, I assume, with the prerequisite bible. For some reason, I found myself wondering if it's in Portuguese or English. As Terry unfolds the sheet, I am about to look, my hand even moving toward the drawer, until Terry twists a bit to look at Frank and Joe. He tells them, "Alright you two, no moving from those spots. Us ladies will not just show our bodies off, so you two had better show some decorum. Or we will be forced to make you stand in the rain for an hour or two."

I can hear a couple of "Heys!" as I unbutton my blouse. Such a pity too, it's a nice one- almost a business suit shirt, but frilly; the arms cut a bit short with the open laced cuff; running down the middle, almost hiding the button, are two fringes of lace springing off the shirt; with the ivory buttons it is almost impossible to see them without direct light on them. I do so love this shirt. Having the shirt undone, I pull it from my skirt and peel it off me. Under, I am wearing a royal purple lace bra- see through, yes, but only in part- it covers more than it shows, but does so in a fetching way. With my shirt gone, I undo my skirt and lower it, the whole while feeling like little more than a common whore despite Terry standing over me with a sheet, despite the money I am getting for this photo shoot. The only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that I would not be having sex with anyone and that after this, I would have enough money to give up modeling for those BDSM magazines and could instead simply try and get commercial jobs. I've done a few commercials in the past, mostly condom ads, but at least for those I don't get tied up and photographed, sometimes seemingly naked, being used and spanked. That is what kept me going- the money, the promise of doing better things, and a hatred of my job. The people are wonderful, nice people, but I can't stand doing this bondage.

Finally, my clothes off and folded upon the dresser, Terry drops his sheet showing the men my attire. I stand before them in my matching royal purple bra and panties, both lace, both semi-see through, but both allowing me at least a little hint of decency and pride. Up my legs run stockings, sheer and mostly invisible. They add a bit more color to my legs than my creamy skin allows without being to obvious, unless in direct light. These stockings are rather rare to find and actually rather expensive, but rarely get a run. They are held high up my thighs by a short royal purple lace garter belt and they are long enough to allow for short skirts to be worn over them without looking like a tart or whore. The men whistle at seeing me dressed thus before them, my arms move to cover me but stop as Frank speaks up.

"No don't. We are enjoying the view, yes. What person alive wouldn't? But, I need to see you like this to figure out what light would work best for your skin. Now before you say anything, yes, I know about your body suit and I already know soft lights. But, I want to see what sort of soft lights. Now, when you are ready, could you get on the bed and array yourself across it in whatever way you feel most comfortable?" He asks me in a professional tone as he grabs up a camera and adjusts a light here, turns on another there.

I relax as he busies himself with his job of photographing me. I like Frank. He has photographed me a few times before and is always very businesslike while he is doing his shoots. He is somewhat touchy-feely while positioning you just so, but in a soft, guiding way. I must admit here that we have flirted back and forth, even gone so far as to go out on a date once or twice, but no real sparks. We are more of work friends who flirt innocently. I also must admit, he is a handsome man, which is why Terry is always trying to get in his pants. But Frank seems so much more interested in taking pictures of things. As he told me once, he is a photo freak. He always has a camera with him. Even on our dates, he took a camera and insisted on taking pictures of me while we ate and walked under the stars. This, of course, was before I met my boyfriend. Frank and I had long ago decided we would flirt a tad and leave it at that. He had his world and I had mine- sometimes they coincide.

Relaxed now, I climb atop the bed, "ooooing" as I run my hands over the silk comforter, resplendent in an almost gold tan. My comforter isn't silk, it's your basic half cotton in a dark green, but this... now this is a comforter I would want. I even decided to look for the same; I have a lot of money coming, I can splurge on a few things. A comforter such as this is so such a thing. Deciding on a pose for Frank, I lay across the bed, my legs together, feet parted a little, mostly on my side but leaning forward to press my breasts into the comforter a little, showing the side of one, one arm curled under my head, the other laid across my side.

"My word Catherine, are you here for pictures or a porn shoot?" Frank remarks over his camera with a wink.

"Terry, pillow," I say over my shoulder, only turning my head a tad, grinning as a pillow is dropped to the bed near my hand, also silk, also golden tan.

I toss the pillow at Frank, who manages to duck out of the way. I find myself thinking that maybe I'll just take this bed home with me, covering and all. It is such a comfortable bed, giving some but holding me up without feeling the springs.

At first, Frank is just telling me to move my arm a little here, or my leg up a tad, lean forward some lean back some as I move to a few different positions on the bed. But soon, he isn't just telling me, he's coming forward and putting a hand to my arm or leg and moving me. At first, it was just my arm or leg, but soon he is running a hand over my butt, cupping a breast or rubbing at my pussy. Frank, being Frank, I allow him his touches and soon I am trembling from his expert soft, sensual touches at my most private areas. This is why we did date a few times- he is the most sensual man you could ever hope to meet, but his photography passion turned me off. On this day, though, I couldn't help but let him move him me just so for his camera, let him run his fingers over me, and turn me into a wanton college student again.

Yes, I did go to college. Does that surprise you? I majored in journalism, not that athlete and dumb-ass blonde major of communications. I sort of fell into modeling. I was looking for a job and found an ad asking for models. Being broke, as well as wanting a few face shots, I answered the ad to find out it was for a BDSM magazine. Well, needing the money, I did the photos, got my face shots, and ended up going back to modeling again. I did enjoy the time spent in front of the camera and the pay was spectacular. Besides, the few places who did call me back ended up not hiring me because of that one photo shoot- to risqué for me to be considered a serious journalist.

After 8 hours of Frank touching me while he moves me around with our constant flirting, I find myself very turned on. My nipples are practically tearing a hole in my bra, and my panties are wet- so wet that I am surprised they aren't dripping, at least they feel that wet- I'm sure me being so wet doesn't help with telling. I am so ready for a nice hard fucking that I am tempted to just rip my panties off and scream at them to take me now, but am stopped from doing so by Joe saying that we have gotten enough photo's, the rain is letting up, and maybe we can do the harness shots tomorrow. Frank is putting up his camera and lights with the help of Terry, who is practically throwing himself at Frank to get him to do photos of him and treat him the same way he treated me. Joe is sitting in a chair going over some paperwork. No one is paying attention to me so, getting off the bed, I hurriedly put my clothes back on. My hands are shaking, every movement making me a little hornier, I so need to get back to my room and pull out my makeup kit. There is a friend in there I so need to get acquainted with again.

I practically run out of Joe's suite, only pausing to say that I need to get some rest if we are doing the shoot tomorrow. Closing the door behind me, and softly as I can, I begin jogging to the elevator. While I am waiting for it, and while going down to my floor, I can't help but to run a hand under my skirt and rub myself. I'm getting close to a nice, strong orgasm but needing something vibrating in me to bring it out. At my floor, which luckily is empty because I wasn't jogging quietly, I ran to my door get it opened and dash in. I'm in such a hurry to get my friend in me, I don't even bother to close the door fully, just let it close itself. As I move to my bed I shed my clothes, taking off my shoes, my skirt, shirt, bra and panties, but not my stockings. Those I leave there, not because I'm trying to be extra seductive for somebody, but just because they aren't that easy to take off in a hurry.

Reaching my bed, I hurriedly grab my bags and tear through them, but no makeup kit! Panicked, I think that I didn't pack my makeup kit. But then I recall I did, it's in the bathroom. Jumping up, I retrieve my friend from the bathroom and test, starting it to check the battery. I smile as I find it is working perfectly. I lie on the bed this time, but having cooled some I run my hands over my body, up and down me. I get closer to touching my pussy and nipples, teasing myself, until I am finally touching my nipples, my fingers squeezing them as my hands move about atop my breasts. One hand moves down my body again while the other cups one breast and brings it toward my mouth. Craning my neck down a little, I take my offered nipple into my mouth and suck as my other hand reaches my pussy and rubs at my clit a little before getting some moisture from me.

I lay there doing that to myself for I don't know how long, switching nipples on occasion, rubbing at my clit, occasionally inserting a finger or three, and just hovering on the edge of a most glorious orgasm, not letting myself cum yet. No this occasion calls for a very intense orgasm. Just as I am reaching for my friend, a six inch purple vibrator with ribs, I hear a voice asking if I needed help. I look over to see Joe standing there, his clothes gone, a very big cock sticking out and a grin on his face. I lay there for a moment, mesmerized by his cock so big and long, and then I realize this is Joe! He isn't even kinda cute! No way am I going to cheat on my wonderful boyfriend with him!

I jump from the bed and charge him, yelling at him to get out, slapping at him and shoving him. Suddenly, I find myself on my back over a chair, my legs bent over me and him sitting on my chest tying me to the chair. My arm is tied to my leg on the armrest of the chair. I just lay there, stunned, as he ties one arm and leg. But when he turns to do the other, I'm yelling at him to get off me and hitting at him as best I can one armed and laying on my back this way. He wraps one arm around my leg and grabs my free arm as he shoves a ball of cloth in my mouth to get me to shut up. I don't. I keep trying to scream as he ties my other arm and leg to the chair. With me tied down and unable to move much, he gets off me and starts tying me down even more to the chair, at one point even untying my arms and legs, not together of course, but separate. Eventually I find myself staring at my own pussy. I am looking at him with fire in my eyes, trying to spit out the ball of cloth and screaming still, despite knowing that nobody could hear me anyway.

A grinning Joe moves back around to behind me. Well, not really behind me I guess, but above my head. Leaning back, I see his big cock moving toward me. I try to get up for a moment more, but I am tied so well I can barely move. So, I just lean my head back and close my eyes, tears starting to run down my cheeks as I feel him pressing at me, slowly entering me, stretching my pussy more than I've ever been, just going farther and farther in me. I couldn't help it, he is just so big, I got even wetter to allow him to enter me farther and farther. Finally, his balls are now pressing up against me, the entire length of him buried in me, and he starts moving, not fast but slow and steady, pulling most of him out of me then sliding it back in. I am under him, my eyes closed, tears running down my cheeks, and moaning as he moves in and out of me. Well, moaning as well as can be expected with a ball of cloth in my mouth, though able to breathe well enough through the cloth. Suddenly, Joe is out of me and spanking me. My eyes open in shock at this newest affront to see Joe looking down at me, telling me to open my eyes and put my head up. Each time he says to put my head up, he spanks me. Eventually I give in and do so, just to give my butt a break from his constant beating on it.