A Photo Shoot

I walked the city streets, the cold, the wind cutting through my threadbare suit jacket as if it did not exist. As I walked, my head down, I reflected back on the day, all of the applications I had filled out soon followed by the rejections which seemed to haunt my life. Still almost eight blocks away from the solitary confinement of the room I had rented all I could think of was collapsing and letting the day wash away. It was then that the snow began to fall and before I had even gone another block I felt chilled to the bone, looking around, seeking sanctuary if even for a moment.

All of the store fronts were dark, their doors locked tight and I moved forward, my teeth chattering against the winter's onslaught. I was almost ready to give up, simply surrendering to the night, finding an alleyway to lay down in when I saw a dim light behind an ornate door. Moving closer I saw the simple lettering, a single letter B and underneath BY APPOINTMENT ONLY. All I could think of was how cold I was and that the only thing that could happen was that I would be thrown out. I tried the doorknob, feeling it turn in my hand and the promise of warmth which hit me.

"Hello?" The only reply was silence, the meager light shining from down the hallway and as I moved closer I saw that it illuminated a series of pictures which hung on the walls. Only when I drew nearer did I find myself stopping, my eyes mesmerized at the sight before me. All of the portraits were of men and women, each in torment, some bound, some beaten, all the captive of the lens and the person behind it.

I felt my body begin to shudder, not from the cold but from the intense sexuality which they portrayed and I almost screamed when I felt the hand touch my shoulder and the voice say, "You're late, it's not a good way to start off. Come with me."

The young woman who stood there, her brown curls framing her face, her emerald eyes not unkind though her tone had told me that she would suffer not fools and I started to speak only to have her turn, walking briskly toward the long, velvet curtain from which she had appeared. "Well, come on" and I obediently moved to follow only to see the setting for what seemed to be a photo shoot in place.

I stopped again, as much so from the sight of all the lights, cameras, props and such but even more so because of the words which were uttered from my right, "Jesus Christ Brielle, he's old enough to my fucking father, I'm not doing this."

The speaker was a woman, her words hitting me like a slap to the face but before I could even speak in my defense, to say there must be some misunderstanding the brown eyed beauty turned saying, "Apologize to him, right now Allison."

The blonde, only now did I truly see her dressed in such a provocative manner, black patent leather gleaming under the hot lights answer was to pick up her cigarettes, lighting one and blowing smoke towards her. "I'm not doing this for under a grand, take it or leave it."

The dark haired beauty response was quick, her hands moving to pick up a camera, removing the lens while saying, "Get out, now. Oh, and don't bother to return, ever."

The sound of her heels echoing, the door slamming soon following, the woman she had called Brielle paid her no heed, simply continuing to work at her cameras until we were alone when she sighed softly, lifting her head to give me a weary smile. "I do apologize for Allison, she can be a bitch at times and her words were uncalled for. I thought I mentioned to the agency that I wanted someone a bit younger than you but I think I can make this work, if you still wish to go ahead?" I stood there, frozen to the spot, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car as she looked up to say, "Did they tell you about the assignment and what it pays? I'm sorry, what is your name?"

"Jon, Jonathan Samuels" I managed to mutter and she walked over, favoring me with a smile and a handshake.

"I'm Brielle and this is my studio. As you can see from the portraits you were looking at I deal in a special clientele, my buyers demand high quality and in turn they pay me high prices to purchase my art. That is why I pay my models five hundred dollars a session, that and the fact it's a bit different from what most have done before. Have you ever posed for anything dealing with bondage and discipline Jonathan?"

"No, that is I, no, I haven't, is that okay?" At the mention of the fee, the chance at a job so tempting, I curbed my tongue, wondering if I could possibly see my way through this. "No, that's alright, quite a few models haven't and I'll go over everything after you've changed. My only concern is now I've lost one of you and I'll have to fill in." With that she turned back to the table, picking up a piece of paper and motioning again for me to follow. "Here's the script for the shoot and you'll find everything you need inside. Come on out when you're ready and we'll begin." With that the door closed behind me and I looked down at the sheet which I clutched and began to read.

A HUSBAND COMES HOME DRUNK, LIPSTICK ON HIS COLLAR AND HIS WIFE CONFRONTS HIM. SHE WAS WITHSTOOD HIS LIES AND HIS DECEIT BUT SHE will NOT PUT UP WITH HIS INFIDELITY. SHE TAKES MATTERS INTO HER OWN HANDS, HER ANGER LEADING TO HER ACTIONS AS HE FINDS HIMSELF THE OBJECT OF HER RAGE, A RAGE WHICH MANIFESTS ITSELF IN HER DOMINATION OF HIM, A CRUEL LESSON IN THE ART OF B&D.

By now I could barely stand, almost falling into a chair as I looked at the clothes which had been laid out it looked like in advance. Looking into the mirror, seeing the reflection of my eyes, so shielded, so withdrawn as if to hide away from the world in case of further pain. I almost turned to walk out, admitting my ruse and preparing to accept her anger. I truly can't say why I didn't, why I began to undress, walking into the bathroom, seeing the shower and turning it on, feeling the heat, the steam rise and only willing to take one step at a time and see where it might possibly lead.

It was almost thirty minutes later that I timidly opened the door, walking out only to come to a quick halt at the sight before me. Where Brielle had been dressed in a sensible sweater and jeans before now she looked, well...amazing. "Ah, there you are, come on; let's have a look at you, shall we?" Her hand reached out and I took it carefully, letting her guide me to a couch where I tried my best not to stare at the incredible picture she afforded me. "I've had to make some changes; I'll have to play Allison's part so I've put three cameras in place, each of them shooting a different angle and each on timers, shooting every three seconds. Now, let's discuss what's going to take place and make sure you're comfortable with it."

Comfortable was not how I was feeling but I managed a brief nod as she continued, her eyes now looking directly into mine. "I sense you've never been put in this position before will and I need for you to focus, to understand that it can cause someone to undergo extremes in emotions, in their body, in their mind. If at any time you feel like what is happening is too intense, too overwhelming then simply say so and we will stop or we will continue in another vein, okay?"

I could barely hear her words, my heart hammering in my chest and I was no more capable of speech than I was in leaving, nodding my agreement. "Good, we'll play this out like a movie and you simply react as if it were part of the script. Let's begin."

She stood up, walking over to the cameras, adjusting them and it was then I let my eyes take in the sight of her clad in leather and lace, her heels clicking against the concrete floor and I sat there, becoming more and more lost in the moment with each passing second. "Stand up Jonathan" and I moved woodenly to do so, watching her as she approached with a tube of lipstick in hand. Covering her lips generously she leaned close, her mouth pressing against the white of the shirt I wore underneath the black suit, leaving a perfect imprint. Another fell on the right side of the collar and then she looked at me with a smile and firmly kissed me on the lips.

The kiss was brief, the contact between us fleeting but as she took her hand, rubbing the lipstick, smearing it across my mouth I still felt the incredible heat she generated, my own arousal becoming more and more difficult to hide. I tried to hide it but that only seemed to make matters worse as I heard her laugh, the bright red shade of my face betraying me as she replied, "It's okay Jonathan, it's a perfectly normal reaction to the situation, something the people who purchase my work would desire." I nodded, trying not to make eye contact but watching as she reapplied her lipstick, turned the cameras on and picked up what looked like a decanter, about an inch of liquid remaining inside.

"Okay, we'll start with you arriving home, drunk and as you barge past me I hit you with this." I must have looked at her with sheer amazement as she almost giggled saying, "It's made out of spun sugar Jonathan, it will explode like glass without any of the nasty side effects, I promise. To you though, it will knock you out cold, falling onto the couch. Are you ready?"

"I, I'll try."

She gave me a confident smile as she motioned for me to enter while saying, "I'm going to play my part against yours so pay no attention to my words or actions, simply understand it's what I'll need to do in order to assure I get the right effect. Okay, let's go."

I walked towards her, staggering slightly, undergoing what felt just like an out of body experience. "Where in the hell have you been?" The words spoken in anger, spat forth and as I passed her by without a word she reached out to grab my arm. I shook her off, my eyes drifting towards the liquor cart which was set up and making directly for it. Even knowing what was to happen I was still surprised when the bottle came crashing down on the side of my face, the shivers of "glass" flying and I went tumbling down, my body crashing to the sofa, bouncing before coming to a stop, my eyes closed, my mind and body on fire.

Her voice was soft, almost a stage whisper as I heard, "Quite convincing good sir, an excellent performance." I simply lay there, wondering what was to happen next only to be quickly answered by the feel of her hands in my hair, my head pulled back forcefully as she cried out almost gleefully, "You're about to learn a lesson I swear you will never, ever forget honey." Little did I know, unable to see the look in her eyes that when she had struck me with the decanter, a small cut had opened up on my left forehead, a trickle of blood falling and her eyes were captivated by the sight, her tongue licking at her lips at the thought of its taste and substance.

Brielle had always been able to keep her distance, her point of perspective between her work and her own desires. In the past it had been the camera which had enabled her to live vicariously through the people who paraded in front of her lens, moving them as if actors in a play to fulfill, to fuel her fantasies. Now though, things had changed, drastically. Where others found their fascination in the bonds, the helplessness, the power she had often found her eyes drawn to the crimson color of the crop, the remnants of the lash but never had she witnessed the vibrancy of the color which continued to drip slowly, almost hypnotically down my forehead. Reaching out, her touch so light that I did not even register it, she allowed a drop to form on her finger, bringing it in front of her eyes, looking into it's reflection like you would your own in a pool of cool water.

Her hands so delicate, the finger held out to hold what to her gleamed more brightly than any jewel and as she moved it towards her mouth, her eyes closing in anticipation. The taste, more intoxicating than any drink or possibly drug, her body quivering with the decadent pleasure, the incredible sensation. Once again if I had been able to witness it with my own two eyes I might have spared myself the pain but certainly not the pleasure of the evening which was about to unfold. A journey which would take both of us on a ride which neither had foreseen nor even dreamed existed. Thus, it began.

The next thing I felt was the coldness of steel, the handcuffs ratcheted tightly as my hands were pulled behind my back, from there my wrists positioned so that they would provide me with no means to defend myself. The ankles were next, the hobbles placed on each leg, allowing me only a modicum of movement, certainly no freedom to leave though that chance was now lost forever. During all this the sounds of the shutter closing and opening, each three seconds the cameras painting their own portrait of what was transpiring, a record for all time, perhaps for others enjoyments. Brielle had said nothing of the buyer, a woman of incredible wealth who had been forced to accept an abusive spouse, his death still never freeing her from her own desire for revenge. She like my captor desired to portray her needs, to live them through the actions of others, only one of them was now an actor in this real life drama.

The contents of the glass were thrown in my face, the liquid scaring me awake, my eyes opening, and my head shaking trying to clear my vision as I saw her standing there, her hands on her hips, her stance defiant, her voice cool, calm. "I warned you Jonathan, I told you that it would not be pleasurable if I found you with another woman, cheating on me and yet you have the gall to come home, reeking of her scent, how dare you?" I opened my mouth, determined to speak my lines but her hand went around my throat, squeezing none too gently and as I gasped I saw her smile, devoid of any humor as I then noticed the knife she held in her other hand.

Seconds later the jacket and shirt lay in shreds, evidence of the sharpness of the weapon and I now was helpless, my upper body unprotected, a sight which drew yet another wicked smile from my tormentor. My mind by now should have been sending off warning signs of its own but as she was lost in her own world, so it seemed was I. I was like the others I had mentioned, one of those who had long desired the feel of being helpless, at the whim, the mercy of another. With each step, as the game grew more and more deadly I became more and more lost in the sensations, in the raw emotions which she had kindled. Both of us prisoners to our own desires, each needing the other to provide them with the ultimate thrill.

If anything throughout the ordeal, my ardor had only increased, my own excitement matching hers. I watched, my eyes unable to turn from the sight as she let the edge of the knife travel downward, trailing lightly across my chest, the fine hairs falling in its path. "Well, this would certainly be one way to make sure you never stray again, would it not?" Unable to move, to even breath my eyes grew even wider as the coldness of the steel reached my waist and she slipped it between the belt and the slacks I wore. The leather like the garments proved no match, the sounds of my soft moans falling on deaf ears, she so caught up in her own actions.

By the time she had finished I lay on the couch, not a shred of decency, my cock hard against my stomach, my eyes glazed as she took hold of it with her hand saying, "You enjoy this will, you desire me to be this way, to have you as my prisoner, you as my willing victim, don't you?"

My answer must not have come quickly enough to satisfy her, the hand squeezing tightly, the pain immediate but not unpleasant as I gasped, "YES, YES I DO, I DESIRE YOU." The smile was chilling, her lips moving to mine, devouring me like a drowning woman might the offer of air and I was helpless to resist, even if I had so wanted to.

When she finally broke it off, I gulped air, feeling as if she had taken a part of me with her and for some reason I began to struggle, a movement which only brought about her laughter, her hand moving down to slit the fabric which encircled her waist. She moved quickly, straddling my face, her sex, it's perfume filling my nostrils, covering my mouth and as she allowed her nails to rake at my chest I cried out, the sound muffled, the command unspoken as I let my tongue began to bring her the pleasure she demanded. Using her hands like a lash, she drew streak after streak down my chest, each jolt of pain spurring me on as she raced for her own climax. The skin finally relented, drops of blood appearing near my right nipple and as she took it in her mouth, biting harshly I felt her whole body shudder, my face quickly drenched with the reward for my efforts.

My cries became louder, my body seemingly one live nerve ending and I missed the smile which came to her face, seeing my torment. Her hand reached down, picking up the garment from the floor, wadding it into a ball and shoving it deep within my mouth, silencing me. I watched as she freed her breasts, the lace pulled down, and the nipples hard, extended as she moved to position herself directly over my hardness. Her hand let the head slip between her lips, my groan muffled, and my eyes rolling back in my head at the delicious sensation. Slowly, almost maddeningly she allowed inch by inch to fill her, playing me like a virtuoso until finally she sighed, her entire body filled with every inch, her hands moving to her nipples.

I could not move, her body pinning mine down. I could only watch as the brown eyed beauty began to rock back and forth, her smile affixed, her hands twisting and pulling at her tender nipples, proving she too knew of the fine line between pleasure and pain, a line which I now straddled, like a man on the edge of the abyss. She knew exactly what she was doing, feeling my body, knowing when I neared my own pleasure and stopping, squeezing the base of my shaft, preventing me from coming. She rode wave after wave of her own pleasure, denying me mine until I felt as if I would go mad. My mind simply shut down, my body taking control and I became an object, an observer in this bizarre dance, her body turning to and fro, mine only existing for her pleasure.

Time had no meaning, no measure. Simply the muffled sounds which escaped my mouth and the trembling of her being when she climaxed, time and time again. Finally, her body began to falter, demanding rest and with it, her mind began to unravel the picture which she had painted in her mind, forgetting to stifle my passion and as for the final time her head snapping back I felt mine join her, my back arching, almost throwing her from her precarious perch, streams of hot cum mixing with hers as we both traveled our separate paths only to join in the end. It was only when I opened my eyes that I saw her slumping, her head hanging down as she gently fell, her body covering mine, her body, her spirit at rest.

As I watched her sleep, her face so unlike before, a sweet innocence framing it I noticed that the cameras continued to perform, having captured it all. Laying there, my body alive with sensations like never before I wondered where this might lead, what would happen when she were to awake and how could I ever leave her side again? Questions which haunted me as I too succumbed to the demand for rest, waiting indeed for where the road might lead from here.

THE END