Taking the Shoot Ch. 13 - Finale

Chapter 13 - Finale

A model takes a part in a FF bondage wrestling shoot

I smiled to myself beside her. On a whim I pulled out my phone and began to film her sitting there; bound. I don't think she knew I was doing it -- she was that focused on the screen action. Holding the phone by her shoulder with one hand to make it a kind of POV angle, I reached between her legs and ran my nails up the gusset of her panties. She grunted then and bent at the waist as far as the bindings allowed. She looked over at me without my letting her see the camera. She was breathing hard. Part of it was fear I think, fear of the unknown. Fear of where this was all going. Fear of what all this meant. The other part though, the bigger part, wasn't fear at all. She was hot as the barrel on a machine gun on full auto over watching those videos.

Horny.

No question, she had enjoyed her work in those days.

I reached over and taking her by her chin made her look back at the screen. The girl who was eating her had visibly changed her demeanor. Her reluctance had gone. Sharon kept twitching her big toe and moving her foot. The girl was rocking her hips from side to side. She was clearly riding that toe and that foot. Determined to get some pleasure out of what was happening to her.

I began to rotate my fingers across the bump of Sharon's clit that was standing up inside her panties. She gasped and bent and then spread her legs as wide as they would go. She kept watching the screen intently and began to hump up against my rotating fingers. I alternated grazing her clit through her drawers and rubbing her bits vigorously, then returning back to grazing, before rubbing again a bit later. She was breathing hard inside a minute. She had her legs spread and was panting and humping my fingers. Like the girl on the screen, she had given in to pleasure against her will.

I confess it. I had only small experience rubbing any pussy other than my own. Reach arounds are usually for teenagers in parks or automobiles. Cocks are one thing, but this was totally different from my normal pattern and I let myself fly in my first girl-girl reach around. She was getting hotter and hotter. I had rarely seen that look on another woman's face except the times I had to do it on film, and here is was again. New. Fresh. Different.

I glanced at the screen. The Hispanic woman was well over protesting. She was openly humping away on Sharon's foot while Sharon clutched her head and made her eat out her pussy. Then it happened. The tied-up woman on the screen screamed into orgasm. The Sharon on the screen yanked her screwed up face back into her own pussy using the vocalization as a form of vibrator and after a few seconds yelled out her own come to the heavens.

The Sharon in the here and now, tied to her study chair in the rich suburban home and being fingered by another woman totally lost it then and I heard her shriek like a wild thing and withing her whole body began to hump herself to orgasm on my fingers through the crotch of her panties, flapping her legs open and closed, straining at her bondage and moving her hips frantically.

I let her finish and lie there, slumped into her improvised cloth ropes and truth to tell I used my now free hand to finger my own slit and clit through my jeans as I watched the Sharon on screen slither to the floor in completion and the Hispanic woman slump to one side, both of them spent.

I came close to coming myself, but backed off. I carefully placed my phone against a book on the end of the desk and left it there... filming... hoping I had gotten the angle correct to catch what happened to Sharon next.

Sharon lay tied in her chair the whole time, her head lolling forward. I think she was out.

I picked another movie and clicked it on the computer.

Guess who?

It was the end session of the first movie we had made all those years before. I watched Sharon deliver her cheesy dialogue and then watched myself, bound, gagged and struggling as Sharon began to caress me and mess with my privates. A psychologist would tell you I should have been repulsed. But they deal in archetypes and groupthink. I am a person. An individual. My feelings are my own. I had had years to internalize them too. Years of orgasming to a fantasy of Sharon leading me tied up and led around by a belt leash through a neighborhood of ordinary women in their houses. I wasn't repulsed. Not at all. To be frank, I was turned on immediately. This poor helpless woman on the screen was being used by this other woman. A woman with a killer body. Who stripped herself down. Who stood over her victim, her legs akimbo and her hairy mound pushed forward with hands on her hips. It was so erotic I realized my fingers were pressing my jeans half way up inside me and working me into a lather and I had not even taken my pants off.

I glanced over at Sharon. She was awake again, and her eyes were riveted on the screen. She was even breathing hard again. It surprised me a bit, she had just come.

I took hold of her chair and rolled her back a couple feet.

In a flash I knelt and then grabbed two more pieces of material I proceeded to tie her ankles to the closest two legs of the five with casters under the seat. She was looking at me as if mesmerized and hardly kicked her legs or resisted at all. She was left with each leg cocked backward and off the floor. Her eyes drifting to the screen and back to the me kneeling and tying her tighter as if she was hypnotized or something.

She didn't protest verbally at all.

I smiled at her. I stood. Slowly and deliberately, I undressed. Almost a strip tease. Top... then pants... then bra... then panties. I kicked off socks and shoes in middle somewhere. Once I was naked, I assumed her pose from the film. Legs spread and my mound pushing forward. Hands on hips. I was proud of the image she was seeing. I had been training hard for a movie that started filming in about a month. I play a female cyborg so I had to be totally ripped on screen and between us I was stronger than I have ever been in my life. I was working with a movie trainer six days a week and my arms were strongly muscled, I had a six pack and I had let the doctors tinker with my breasts a small amount so they looked great and not mashed flat, crushed under layers of toned Pectoralis Major and Minor muscles that sometimes happens to women when they are weight lifting. I was all woman. But a strong woman. I looked good and knew it. Oh! And ever since my divorce I had let me pubic hair grow back in. It wasn't blond really, more a light-colored brunette. Sharon was staring at it now since it was level with her face. She had taken in my powerful body and was now mesmerized by my bush. I stepped forward and sat on her lap in a lithe move. I slithered my arms between her back and the chair and yanked her close. Our lips were inches apart.

She was half shaking her head in denial, but I wasn't having that. I pulled my arms out, grabbed her head in my hands and ever so slowly and gently pressed my lips to hers. Out breaths mingled and I slowly began to slide my tongue around her lips then returned to the kiss. She grunted and tried to move her head away but eventually relaxed and let the kiss continue. I could not be sure, but towards the end I think she was actually relaxing a bit into it. I got impatient though.

The fates were working overtime, because in the background, from the screen I heard myself saying "Sharon! You... you...kissed me!" in disbelief. I leaned back and smiled at her stricken face. She was breathing hard. She had kissed me back though.

"I can't believe I let you do that!" She said softly.

"Let me? You are the one tied up here. You did not have a choice. What was your line? Oh! Yeah! This is power exchange!" I smiled smugly at her sitting there tied to her big comfy work chair. "You are mine now... darling!"

Sharon screwed her face up. The bikini bondage wrestling woman actress, producer and director and had tried hard to bury her past. Take on the new and straight suburban mom persona. She had been working on being driven by those instincts for years now. In denial really. She still had access to all these movies that made her life a lie. I wondered how many days or nights once the kiddies and husband were asleep, she snuck in here and lived her old life vicariously by firing up these movies and playing with herself. I shook my head. I couldn't image the hypocrisy and denial it must have taken.

Or perhaps I could.

I had come here to change things. For me.

I didn't perhaps know how much.

I looked down at her from my superior naked position.

"I've seen several of your films now. I noticed one thing, though. Call it a theme. I notice in all of them it is the poor tied up woman who is having to do the pussy eating. You are the dom. They are the sub. I get that. It's who you were. But that changes today!" I said softly so as not to alarm her too much, too fast.

It didn't work. She looked up at me with this stricken look. In for a penny and in for a pound. I looked around her sewing area over her shoulder. There were a huge pair of cloth cutting pinking shears just lying there. I smiled down at her walked around her, picked up the scissors and returned. In two smooth moves I sliced through the shoulders of her dress.

That set her off.

She jerked and struggled in her bondage. I let her dress fall naturally off her shoulders, then snipped through her bra straps.

She yanked on those ties behind the chair and grunted and strained.

"No! NO!" She yelled over her shoulder at me.

I laughed, just to piss her off a bit really, then leaned over her shoulder then snipped through the front to her bra. Her breasts spilled out of the tatters. They were heavier than they had been in the earlier films when we had known each other. They hung down more. Children and age do that to you. I gathered one weight in each hand and pinched the nipples even harder than they were.

"No! STOP! I'll... I'll scream!" She yelled at me.

I giggled and forced her head to face me.

"Go ahead. This house of yours is on what? An acre and a half? The house on either side are the same? Call it an acre or more between them? This is California. Everyone drives. There is car and city noises out there too. Even if a neighbor hears just a bit of your scream across that distance and through the sounds and the walls... what do you think they would do? Most would just think you were having fun. Fooling around. Of course, if you know them well, they might be more concerned than a stranger. This is an upscale neighborhood though. Do you even know your neighbors? Ever met them even? But it doesn't matter really. What if you have the most concerned neighbor in the world that you do know well and they do get worried. What are they gonna do? Call the cops?"

I went on.

"This is a rich neighborhood. The cops are going to soft approach it. Be deferential. Not wanting to piss off the rich folks. A polite knock and no kicked in doors."

I moved my face close to hers.

"I would know it long before they got here. My panties are right over there." I nodded at where my clothes lay. "Not only that..." I let her head go and reaching down with the shears I grabbed the elastic at one hip of her panties and snipped thorough them. Then deliberately did the other hips. She starred down at this wide eyed as her pubes came into view. They were as I remembered them. Maybe a bit wilder and less trimmed. Busy housewife hot!

"Now I have two pairs of panties I can shove in your mouth!" I said cruelly holding up the remnants of her knickers.

"Imagine that! My dilemma. The cops at the door. Me answering the door. You here. Tied in your chair. Naked and exposed. You mouth jammed full of panties. Yours and mine. Moaning and crying out. Think they will hear you over the sound of porn films I will set to running at full audio just before they knock? Or will they just assume your cries are more sounds from the same video? Especially when I let a nipple slip and distract them there at the door. Tell them some story about how I was masturbating. Think they won't believe it? I am a movie star you know."

I grinned at her.

"Even if they insist on coming in then, once they realize that what is going on in here is sexual... and consensual... after I, the famous movie star tells them you love it... being tied up naked and played with... they will back right off as well. If... if they don't for some reason think it is consensual. Maybe I did tie you against your will. What next? Why I'll just invite them in to watch. Think about that moment! You here. School board member. PTA queen. Naked. Tied. Staring at movies of yourself tying up and abusing other women. A poor pitiful gal that is naked and molesting other tied up women! Who is going to question that this bondage mess you are in is totally your thing anyway? Frankly, I think is 50-50 under that scenario that they will just sit down and watch with me and they take you if I offer."

She was breathing fast through her nose. Her face had screwed up as I described each of these thoughts. Finally, she kind of sobbed and a real tear ran down her face at the thought of cops staring at her tied up with her movies running in the background.

I ignored it.

I didn't have time.

I was an actor in domination mode.

I was believable.

I just smiled at her. I cupped her chin and lifted her sad little face.

"Don't worry. Almost over, love. Now that you're naked and you've come...oh... and are tied up naked. We are almost done. Just a couple more things to do." I stood behind her chair and grabbed the corners of its high back and using my arms began to lower her backwards to the floor. She shrieked in alarm as she felt the chair going out from behind her, but tied to it she could only lay there and squirm. The castors actually helped roll it flat and the arch of the chair's back were enough to allow Sharon's tied hands to remain free from being crushed. She was now lying there on her back with her legs wide and splayed by being tied to the chair's legs.

I grinned down at her.

Anyone could imagine the view from that angle. Having experienced it myself.

She yanked and tugged on her wrists and ankle bindings and gazed up at me stricken.

I deliberately knelt with my knees on either side of her head.

"No! NO! NO! Please...Sharon... LOOK... I'll pay you. I'll pay you! I have money!" She was panicking a bit. I lowered myself just a bit. "I know what you want. I can't! I just can't! I CAN'T." She was staring up into my splayed pussy lips the whole time she was negotiating to stop the inevitable. I could see her chin moving down there, but not her face. What a rush! It occurred to me she was in such great shape in the old days that she had maybe never lost a match. It was probable that the one tied up and made to lick labia was always the other woman. Never herself.

I put my hands the edge of her chair between her spread legs to steady myself.

"Time to pay up, Sharon!" I said clearly. "All those women who had to lick your little pussy? Now you are going to lick mine!" I ended it as a command.

I felt utterly empowered. Sharon, that bitch who all those years ago had made me eat her for money was finally getting hers back. I pulled upward on her leash firmly.

"No. No! No!" She called out then choked a bit as the leash pulled. "I can't! You don't understand. I've never..." and I just did a split and dropped my hips lower to bury her protests in my own wetness. "Mpffff!" She cried with her face buried in my lips below. She twisted her head to the side desperately, but I reached down and forced her to face her fate...and my pussy. She was squirming desperately now with her nose and lips literally inside me. "Mffff! Mffff! Mffff!" She cried from below and I practically came just from that and watching her kick her legs helplessly against the rags that tied them to the chair's roller legs.

"Lick!" I commanded. My eyes were watching myself on the screen getting dominated all those years ago. Sharon was tugging on my leash in front of my eyes while I pulled up on the one round her neck down below me.

Then it happened. I felt a tiny tickle on my clit. Then another. Finally, a third. She was doing it! She was actually using her tongue on me!

I moaned and humped along her face. Demanding more. There were wet sounds from below along with moans and groans from poor Sharon who was finding out the hard way what pussy tasted like. She was lapping though. No longer hesitating. No longer resisting. In fact, she suddenly upped her revolutions per minutes. Working her tongue faster and faster. Almost frantically licking me and sucking on me. It was a total turn-on to have driven her from reluctance to a labium lapping machine.

I was panting and humping.

Then I saw Sharon's image before my eyes on in the film running on screen. She was sitting on my face and the myself of five years ago was giving her head for the first time and I squatted down really hard onto her face to rider her tongue. I was breathing really hard watching myself being violated while violating my violator. I went crazy. I screamed and screamed out more a series of short orgasms riding her nose and tongue in a bunch of short jerks and spasms that concluded with this final shattering and amazing come that made me shriek and totter to fall over backwards in half a swoon that left me immobile on my back with poor Sharon still lying there tied helplessly to her chair with her head half between my legs.

Frankly I lay there for a long time. Maybe twenty minutes or so as I recovered and finally sat up. I realized I still had her leash in my hand and she been arching her neck back to keep it from getting too tight the whole time. I flung the leash loose and carefully loosened it from around her neck. She sighed and almost relaxed, staring at me and a variety of emotions running across her face. I caressed that face and her hair gently for a moment looking down at her upside-down face and then I smiled. She smiled weakly back up at me licking her lips. I touched those lips softly, almost reverently. The lips that had kissed my own lips in their time... both sets. Then I stood and taking her chair back firmly in hand I levered her back into an upright position on her wheels again, spun her chair to face me, straddled her legs and sat on her lap with my face a few inches from her own.

We talked then.

Intimately.

As women at their best can do.

It came pouring out of her. The day of our first shoot something had happened to her. Something that had not happened with all the other girls in all the other shoots and all the other films she had made. She had seen my skillset in acting and realized somehow, in the ancient rhythm of love that I really attracted her. She admitted it took her a while to get used to the idea. She saw herself as essentially straight. That was her identity. She got off on girl's mouths and enjoyed overpowering them and tying them up, but basically, she did it for the money, and the audience, and the orgasms. But not because she was a sapphist in her heart.

In her off-work time, she was a straight girl who liked men.

Until our shoot together.

She had made a few more movies without me, but after our first performance together she could not seem to get into their previous rhythm. When I called her to do my second film with her and later my third, she told me that she had found herself holding her emotional breath. Longing for those film dates to arrive. Using the films to explore her feelings further. Each time those feelings had gotten deeper. Her reaction more profound.

She felt like she was falling. In love. A serious thing for a woman.

She had been wrestling with herself. Trying to stabilize her own sense of identity. Get her head around her infatuation with me.