Return to Sessia Ch. 06

I was aching and miserable, but Allison stopped spraying me long enough for the photographer's assistant to give me a bar of soap. I stared at it dumfounded for several seconds.

"You lather yourself up with it, Girl," the photographer called out to me. "I thought that would be obvious! I designed this photo-shoot to be so simply that everything should be intuitive!"

I had some smart-ass comments that I bit back and lathered myself up. The photographer made constant suggestions about which parts of my body should be lathered up most extensively and I obediently lathered as he instructed, spending most of my time lathering up my loins, my sore buttocks and my poor, aching breasts

"Okay Diane, now I want you to face Allison," the photographer called out to me, " Feet wide apart. Reach your hands high above your head."

I'm sure that Allison would never have done it if she were in my shoes. It was a cruel exposure for a naked girl, but Allison was a model and I was just a slave-girl. Suffering in my inferior status, I obediently assumed the pose. My soaped and lathered naked body was soon under assault by the icy spray of Allison's cruel, wicked weapon and I panted and whimpered as she tormented me with it.

The water bit at my defenseless, naked body and the photographer snapped his photos. All traces of soap were soon washed away. But the jet had been made more vicious. As it roamed up and down my naked, vulnerable body, hurting my sensitive pussy and my swollen, aching nipples, I couldn't keep from flinching.

Finally, the photographer ordered me to turn around and face the concrete wall, standing with my legs far apart with my ass sticking out, my arms above my head and my hands pressed up against the wall. Allison then aimed her hose at my poor, stinging ass and sprayed me mercilessly, not missing a single inch of my naked skin, I cried and sobbed when she aimed the cold, punishing spray directly at my anus.

When it was over, the photographer began to pack up his photographic equipment, but I was still sobbing. The most intimate, erotic parts of my anatomy were a riot of pain and I couldn't stop the shuddering sobs of agony.

Allison unlocked my captive ankle and used a towel to dry me off. "You're very brave, blondie," she said to me. "I've always thought of myself as tough, but I never would have agreed to go through that scene that you just did, and I've run in two marathons."

Allison hugged me and allowed me to sob on her shoulder. Her skin was warm, she was very nearly naked and had an incredible body. I couldn't help but think of our hug as erotic.

Soon Gretchen pulled Allison off of me and said, "I've got to take my slave-girl home. She's had a rough day and now she needs her rest."

"Rest," I thought, "Is it true? Will I finally get a chance to lie down and try to recover from this day?"

I suppose I must have somehow made it up to our hotel room and into Gretchen's bed, because the next thing I remember I was lying in Gretchen's bed one wrist handcuffed to the bedframe and six hours had passed.