This is an adult story.
It is not for children, or young pets, or republicans (kidding!)
It does not represent anything that has ever been done, nor should it ever be tried.
If you are not interested in adult material, please hang up now.
Please do not reprint this anywhere without asking me first.
You have been WARNED.
I was so nervous. Me! She selected me! Lola Tangiers was could have her pick of models for her photo shoots and she picked me! I still had no idea why, but I was pacing her office, waiting for her to call for me.
And what do you wear when auditioning for a world famous fashion photographer? I spent hours digging through my closets, deciding on an above-the-knee brown suede skirt, 3" matching suede pumps, and a cream colored silk blouse. Stopping to get a manicure on the way, I thought I looked good, but it didn't help quell my nerves one bit.
The door opened and a drop-dead gorgeous blonde stuck her head out of the office. "Ms. Blaine?"
"Yes," I stammered, "that's me," I finished lamely, smiling self-consciously.
She flashed me a 1,000,000 candlepower smile and said, "A pleasure to meet you in person. Ms. Tangiers has been very descriptive about your abilities. Please, come in and meet her." She opened the door, sweeping me in with a wave of a long, slender arm.
"Um, thank you, Ms...?" I fumbled.
"Jet. Marie Jet," she returned, smoothly.
"Ms. Jet," I echoed, and strode into the room, attempting to regain my air of importance. The only problem was that my self-importance really wasn't in question. I really WAS a nobody.
The room was decorated plainly, a large, empty shell with good lighting and a backdrop area for the photo background. Lola, unmistakably, was maneuvering the lights to point at a spot in the "set" and turned when we walked in.
Striking, in person, Lola was not classically beautiful. Shortish, a bit stocky, with wide-set, green eyes that seemed to sparkle, and a Cheshire grin made her fascinating to look at, and more fascinating when she looked at you. Dressed simply in a t-shirt, loose canvas shorts, and white tennis sneakers, she seemed the essence of being casual about your fame. I gawked for a moment before I managed to introduce myself.
"Um, hello, Ms. Tangiers," I mumbled, "I just LOVE your work and am, um, honored that you, er...chose me to, um.." I sounded like an idiot and she let me finish for a bit before smirking and waving it all away.
"Hush, dear. You're a wonderful model and my work is only in bringing out the beauty that my models already possess inherently. Without you, I would be nothing." She smiled and I was immediately at ease, ready for anything. What an ability she had, I thought, to keep her models happy! "Why don't you get into some of the clothing I have here and we can begin. Marie, can you help Ms. Blaine?"
"Oh, please call me Susan, Ms. Tangiers, Ms. Jet," I said, sheepishly, and started for the hangers. I picked out a short leather skirt, 4" black patent heels, and a white cashmere sweater, holding them out for both Lola's and Marie's approval.
"Of course, Susan. I'm Lola and this is Marie." Lola smiled, waving vaguely to herself and her assistant. She watched me closely as I changed, and I suddenly realized that I felt a little uneasy. I'd never been anything of an exhibitionist, but it didn't occur to me to ask to change in private in front of two other women, but the way that they were looking at me was making me sweat a bit. I put it out of my mind, watched what I was doing more carefully, and ignored the feeling. It wouldn't do to insult Lola Tangiers. I finished changing, pushing my 5'10" frame up over 6' in the pumps. I towered over Lola, and was slightly taller than Marie, in her 4" spiked sandals.
Standing up, brushing flat my shirt and skirt, throwing back my long, fire-colored hair out of my face and over my left shoulder, I cut quite a figure up there on the platform. I smiled as I heard a sharp intake of air from Lola. Looking her way, my gray-blue eyes caught her green ones and I asked "shall we begin?"
Her smile split her entire face in a grin that I wasn't at all sure I liked. "Absolutely," she nearly cooed, "Marie?"
Marie stood and, taking two of the strobe-flashes that were typical in this kind of photography, helped me onto the "set." This consisted of a distressed brown-leather couch, and a large, soft rug. There was a small coffee table with a bowl of fake fruit on it. Otherwise, there was just background and lights.
Having done this hundreds of times, with many photographers, I knew how to get juice into the shoot. I stood, looking at the camera like a lover, and raised my hands behind my head, pursing my lips. Pouting expressions, lustful glances, casual under-the-lids flirtations were the way to make your average male viewer stop in his tracks. Instructions poured form Lola's mouth to both Marie and I.
"Susan, look left."
"Marie, flash higher."
"Susan, hands lower."
"Susan, lift left leg."
"Susan, sit further back."
"Marie, lean in closer."
"Susan, mouth open."
Eyes locked on the camera as shot after shot, flash after flash went off, I barely noticed the instructions getting a bit unusual. Something odd about the timing of the flashes and the instructions briefly crossed my mind, but I was much too engrossed to do anything more than notice it fly by.
"Susan, kneel." I did.
"Susan, mouth open." My mouth opened.
"Susan, lift skirt." My fingers trailed up the edges of my skirt, pulling it sensuously upwards as I still posed everything for the camera.
I thought I caught a smile from Lola as my skirt rode up exposing myself bare. Who wore panties under a skirt for a photo shoot? The instructions came faster now, and so did the flashes. I didn't notice when Lola had stopped taking pictures, but I kept posing. Things were beginning to get very blurry to me except those instructions. I was obeying them immediately, although they slipped from one ear to the other as far as conscious thought about them was concerned.
"Face the couch." Flash
"Raise your ass." Flash
"Spread your legs." Flash
"Don't move." Flash
I suddenly felt an explosion of pleasure from below as Lola's tongue started to lick and suck at my pussy. My hands were firmly planted on the ground and I was looking at the couch, immobile. My ass was raised so that my wet, dripping sex was in perfect position for her exploring tongue. I felt the tip slip around my lips and spread them, licking and toying with me, with my clit. I wanted to scream rape, I wanted to beg her to continue, I had no idea what I wanted except to move, which I couldn't do. What seemed like hours, and many many orgasms later, I felt Lola's lips slip off of me and walk away. With a final flash of the strobe she said "Get dressed, go home, forget anything sex-related. You had a great shoot. Come back tomorrow. Dress slutty. Here, look at these when you get home." She pressed something into my hand and turned away.
I found myself saying goodbye to Marie, who had a strange glistening around her lips and chin. She dabbed at it lightly with a napkin after noticing my stare and said that she would see me tomorrow. I nodded and headed out.
Walking home, my head reeled a bit. What a great shoot! I had impressed Lola Tangiers! A second shoot was tomorrow and I was going to be killer ready. Maybe some shopping, first...
Having hit my favorite stores in the city, I hadn't really found anything that tickled my fancy today. Something more daring slutty, interesting slutty, or just different slutty was what came to mind. I wandered a bit until I saw just the CUTEST sleazy little red mini skirt in the window! I HAD to have that one. I walked in, bought it in a size that just barely covered my ass, along with such an attractive sleazy black spandex top and a pair of 5" high, open toed spiked platform heels, also black. I nearly danced home, feeling all set for tomorrow! I stopped when I realized that the pink frosted nail polish I was wearing was not exactly what went with this outfit. I frowned and hurried over to Madame Lee's Nail Emporium, a little tiny place around the corner that I got manicures regularly. She squeezed me in.
"Weren't you here yesterday?"
"Yes," I said, "but this is an emergency! I have to look good for a photo shoot tomorrow and this pink polish doesn't go at all with my outfit!"
"Well, can you let me see your outfit?" She asked.
"Oh, sure. Here it is," I replied, holding the outfit up for her to see.
Her eyes widened. "Um, is this ALL of it?" She asked, a bit concerned.
"What do you mean? Of course. Should I put it on? Will that help?" I asked, eager to get things just right.
"Er, no. That's OK. I think you're going to want something a bit more...daring with that outfit so that it doesn't get lost. Oh, and you'll probably want your toes done too, since you are wearing open toed shoes." She looked up at me, expectantly. I'd never gotten a pedicure from her before, having stated explicitly that I'd never want to show off my feet. "Feet are ugly," I could hear myself saying.
"Well, that's fine then. I have to look good. Do whatever you think is best, Madame Lee," I offered.
"Right. Well, you might want to consider a color to match the top, the skirt, your hair, or your eyes, on either your hands or your feet. They don't have to be the same." She eyed my body, assessing colors and whatever else she was doing.
I looked myself over and said, "Well, how about matching the skirt on my hands and my top on my feet?"
She nodded, obviously resigned to doing what her foolish customer requested, and painted my long, sculpted fingernails a bright, fire engine red and my long, slender toes a shiny, jet black. I liked it all and tipped her well. "Thanks, Madame!" I chirped as I tottered off.
She waved and mumbled a "No problem" as she shook her head in disbelief. Kids, she thought.
Sauntering home, I kicked off my shoes and my clothes came off before I had made it halfway across the apartment. I was feeling very sexy, very horny, and headed straight to the shower. I smelled of sex, although I assumed it was just because of how hot I was feeling. Dropping my package on the bed, I jumped into the steaming shower, my long, red-tipped nails traced the lines of my pussy, slipping through the curly hair to the warm, pulsing wet need underneath as the water cascaded over my back. To surprising thoughts of Lola's tongue on my clit I came wildly, bucking in the shower and mingling my own juices with the shower water as it circled into the drain. I slumped to the floor of the shower, letting my legs splay out across from me in the large shower, turning off the water as I slid down the wall and falling asleep gazing at the surprisingly black nails shining up at me from the other end of the shower floor.
Waking, just barely, an hour later, I managed to pull my naked, nearly dry form into a robe and onto my bed. I rolled off of a small lump on the bed, and, opening it, found a pile of photos. Curiosity overcoming fatigue, I settled back onto my pillows and started paging through pictures.
Me, standing by the couch, arms up. Nice.
Kneeling on the couch, looking at the table. Another good one.
Lying on my stomach on the coffee table. Very sultry.
Kneeling on the floor...naked? I sat up slowly, eyes widening.
Sucking on someone's breast?
Is that Marie's face in between Lola's thighs?
Legs spread eagle on the coffee table, head by the couch, Lola's foot on my face?
Marie's face in my crotch?? Lola's feet on my breasts??
My face in Lola's ASS???
Were these the pictures we took this afternoon? I sat back, memories hazy and fugue-like. Setting the alarm clock, I passed out for the evening, dreaming of Marie's wet, glistening chin and the pictures of the night before faded into dreams.
Looking in the mirror the next day, it crossed my mind a number of times to wonder what in the world I was wearing. I looked, well, slutty. But something about that didn't seem so bad. In fact, I had a feeling it would help my work, rather than hinder it, although I had no idea why. Had I known what was to come, who's to say whether I would have tried to stay home anyway.
Ring went the doorbell at Lola's studio. The door was once again answered by the beautiful Marie Jet. Nothing odd about her chin, though. I wondered what that was all about yesterday and shrugged inwardly, suppressing a flood of images that clicked, rapid-fire, through my conscious mind. She smiled her melting smile at me again and damn if it didn't have the same effect. Averting my eyes from her gaze, I walked into the studio, aware of my dress, my makeup, and my emotional state. Nothing else seemed to have changed, although the entryway was a bit darker than before. Lola looked up at me benignly and, looking me up and down, smiled and nodded.
"Much better today, dear," she murmered, "very slutty."
I beamed, although why I couldn't imagine. Do employers typically refer to their employees as "slutty?" I didn't think so, but I was still beaming when Marie came out of the dark entryway into full view. If I was slutty, she was positively lascivious. Her 5'10" model's frame was packed into a black, shiny, smooth material from head to toe. 10 small, sharp fingertips shone from 10 openings in the hands of the materials, nails like fire standing out from the black material. Legs molded into the 6" stilettos that held her aloft at the towering height of 6'4" from the ground. She stepped into the lights of the studio and light seemed not to so much reflect off of her but to bend around her. Hair glowing, eyes shining, lips red and full, she positively oozed sex.
"Hello, Susan. Lola and I like your look. Let's take some more photos," she breathed.
Lola stepped forwards, in only a soft, silk robe and a camera. She held it aloft and before I could peel my eyes from Marie and start asking questions, the camera started clicking and the flash started flashing. Commands started flowing and I started "working."
"Susan, arms on your chest."
"Susan, fingers on your breasts."
"Susan, sit on the couch."
"Susan, legs on the coffee table"
Flash. Flash. Flash. Flash.
Marie moved in, holding the flash, placing it on the table, pointing it at me. She flowed more than walked, a vision in darkness, and my eyes were lost to the camera. Fixed onto Marie's form as she glided towards the back of the couch, following her as she walked behind my head, lowering her face to within inches of mine, I felt my lips pucker and extend on my own. Her eyes, mere inches from my own held mine until head slid towards my body so that our mouths could intersect in this strange variant of a "69." Her mouth closed onto my lips, locking greedily. Her tongue slid out and my body and mind exploded in desire, my hands rising in lust to run up and down her so-smooth second skin. I felt the outlines of her shoulders and ran my fingers to her breasts, my red nails a strong contrast to the black material that encased her. My fingers traced her breasts, feeling the outlines of the aureoles and nipples as if they were naked and exposed. Her silver-edged fingers slid down my arms to my breasts, barely enclosed in the skimpy fabric, and I sighed. Our tongues intermingled and I was in heaven. I could have stayed that way forever, but apparently Lola had other plans that were not to be directly under our control. A second flash, timed to go off with the first one started firing, strobing, in time with words from that part of the room. Turning my eyes, Lola had shed her robe, her short form powerfully built, with large, full breasts, creamy skin and strong legs. Her eyes almost glowed green as they looked at Marie and my forms, intertwined in love and lust. Lola had other plans.
"Stand, Marie" Flash.
"On your knees, both of you" Flash.
"Turn to face me" Flash.
She walked between us and stood. We turned to face her without thought.
"Lick my pussy, Marie" Flash. Marie's face dove forwards into her spread lips, her tongue working double time, of it's own subconscious, well trained, volition.
"Lick my ass, Susan" Flash. My well done lipstick was gone, wiped unceremoniously on the tight cheeks of Lola's ass as my face buried itself to it's task. Letting my tongue wander, in and out, up and down, tasting only mana by Her commands. Unaware of anything but liquid desire to obey and the lust that comes from obeying Lola. Obeying the flash.
Lola screamed, but did not command us to stop. She screamed several more times and then fell to the couch.
"Stop. Stay still" Flash.
Marie became the most beautiful of statues. I was a distant second. We faced her, immobile, our chins glistening with our saliva, with Lola's juices, with each others saliva. We simply stayed, letting it dry or drip to the ground.
Lola stood, walking behind us. I thought I heard her fastening something on to herself and then she walked back in front of us.
"Marie, service me as you know I like it." Flash.
From my vantage point, about 18" away from the two, I had as good a view of what was to transpire as anyone could have. Still, I couldn't believe my eyes. Lola strode to Marie with a 9" long, black rubber strapon cock that almost glowed. It looked like a part of her, encased in the tight latex panties that supported it, arching proudly away from her body. She was thoroughly transformed. That one piece of rubber changed her from a soft, but toppish woman, to a butch, tough, aggressive, dominant. Her eyes glowed with power, her words set to the timing of the strobe carried all the authority they would need to get what she wanted, but her essence, her NEED, was embodied in that 9 inches of rubber. Marie's mouth opened automatically, her crimson lips parting to the "O" of subservience, and moments later the visible 9 inches was trimmed to 4, then 3. Marie's expert lips, perhaps trained on the real thing, perhaps on this impossibly aroused phallus, worked it. They closed and sucked, opened to let her tongue slip out and around the shaft, closed to allow her head to bob up and down, opened to let it slip out and rub against her face.
For her part, Lola was in heaven. It was as if the strapon was a part of her. She bucked and swayed with Marie's movements, with her actions, reacting to each lick, each change in pressure from Marie's mouth. Her ecstasy overcame her as she grabbed the fiery hair of the Goddess kneeling at her feet and forcefed the strapon into her face. Sliding the dildo in and out of her mouth with greater and greater speed, her screams reached a furious peak. At the last moment, her hand reached down and depressed a button on the latex holster. She screamed and came, writhing, as Marie's eyes bulged along with her cheeks.
"SWALLOW IT ALL!" Lola screamed in ecstasy, her head thrashing from side to side, her eyes closed, her hands holding Marie's face where the 9 inch rubber monster would create visable bulges in her throat. Flash.
Marie's surprise faded, her reflexes quelled, and she greedily swallowed her Mistresses projectile cum. Gulping and bobbing, letting nothing drip from her lips, she continued to suck and lick until Lola's exhausted voice said "Stop, Marie. Good job. Relax." Flash.
Marie let the fake cock out of her mouth with an audible POP, eliciting a final groan from Lola, who slumped back onto the couch. Marie's eyes were shining from Lola's praise, and she absently let her tongue play over her lips. I was still immobile and had been treated to one of the most erotic shows I'd ever seen. My pussy was dripping, and, ignoring the command to be still, was pulsing and throbbing in absolute, wanton lust. Lola was still sprawled on the couch, but was aware enough to be eyeing Marie and I for signs of life. She looked at me and said, "Talk, but don't move." Flash.