Brad squeezed my hand, “I won’t make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He pulled me by the shoulder so I would turn to face him. “If you are okay to try this out, it will be beautiful. Not to mention it will bring in a lot of money and opportunities for both you and the studio.”
He did help calm my concerns, but not by much. Even if we wouldn’t actually be engaging in anything, I would still be dressed in a way I never thought possible. I could only imagine what sorts of poses he would tell me to do and what kind of facial expressions.
Erotic modeling was one thing but, to me, this was on a whole different level. I bit my lower lip and turned to look at the leather bodysuit, running my hand over its smooth surface. He hadn’t once been wrong when picking out my outfits or selecting the best photographs. I shut my eyes and thought of the experience and his words; as each second passed, I felt more and more persuaded. I wanted to do it. I just didn’t know if I could do it.
“Okay.” I said, my mouth slowly turning up in a meek smile. “But I have your word we stop if I say so.” I said as I placed my hand on his chest.
Brad nodded and brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, “Of course.”
I pulled off my blouse and took off my pants, setting them on the table next to the leather bodysuit. I grabbed it and slid into it carefully, struggling a bit here and there, before finally smoothing it over my body and walking over to look at my reflection in the mirror.
Brad walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my small waist, hooking his index finger in the big O-ring hanging from the suit’s front zipper. He tugged it down slowly until a good amount of cleavage was exposed. I turned from side to side, checking myself out in the mirror. I was glad I wore a plain, black bra. Even I couldn’t deny the suit looked great on me. I looked to Brad’s eyes reflected in the mirror and saw how they were scanning my body up and down. I loved the way he looked at me. It wasn’t always sexual, half the time I felt like he was admiring me like a work of art. No man had ever made me feel so appreciated.
“Let’s get started,” I said with an excited smile starting to form. He spun me around and kissed me passionately again before instructing me to stand in the center of where everything was laid out.
“Start by posing on that stool.”
I saw a tall stool with a back covered in deep red velvet, wooden legs painted pitch black. I sat sideways on it and draped an arm over the back, bending my other arm to curl my fingers inside the zipper of the leather bodysuit.
“Place a foot on the stretcher bar and drape the other over it.” I did as I was told and turned to look at him just when he snapped the first picture. I threw my head back and shut my eyes, rolling my head from side to side to stretch my neck and listening to the camera shutter snap away. By now I’d gotten the hang of how to go through a photo shoot with Brad. We were quickly becoming a great team, naturally knowing what the other wanted.
“Hold on,” he said before walking into the back room.
He came back a few moments later holding lipstick. He ran his hand through my hair before gently tipping my head upward. For a moment, just a brief one, the two of us were staring into each other’s eyes. His forest green gaze was bright as ever underneath the lights. It was one of the most intense seconds I had ever felt with him.
I puckered my lips as he uncapped the lipstick. Carefully, he pressed the tip to my lips, slowly running it across so the color stained a fire-engine red. Finally, he pulled the lipstick away from my mouth and leaned forward, stopping a mere millimeter before our lips touched.
“Gorgeous,” he whispered, his hot breath spreading enticingly across my skin.
He walked back to grab his camera and took a few more photos, “Are you ready?”
I nodded slowly. I figured I was as ready as I ever would be to do something so wild and out of character. If anything was new and out of my comfort zone, it was this. Moving to the big city and dating the photographer were just small steps compared to this. My stomach was tumbling like mad, but I was determined to keep going now that I had already started.
Brad pulled a blindfold off a small hook on the side of the wall and placed it slowly over my eyes, holding my hair so it wouldn’t get caught. I felt his hot breath at the nape of my neck and I was sure he had leaned in to do it on purpose. A shiver ran straight down my spine causing a full-body shudder. I swallowed hard. It was easily the most erotic moment of my life. He tugged slightly on the straps of the blindfold before giving me a peck on the cheek.
“Just stay still.”
I heard his footsteps followed by a few snaps of the camera. More footsteps and then he was adjusting my body again, turning my face to lean forward, hands on my hips. After he snapped a few more, he helped me off the stool. As soon as he adjusted the seat he led me to stand behind.
My breath clutched as he grabbed my hip and bent me over until my stomach was on the stool, cleavage spilling sexily onto it and out of the leather bodysuit.
After taking a few pictures in that pose, he walked back over to me. I stood up straight as he pulled me close to him. I could feel my heart thundering against my chest. His palm ran over my cheek and pulled my face close to his for a soft kiss. He ran his hand from my hip up my side until it rested on the side of my chest. My mind was racing a million miles an hour as every nerve in my body buzzed to life. He pulled back from the kiss and rubbed his thumb over my lips, smearing the red lipstick before snapping a few more photos of me close up.
“Are you ready for something else?”
I nodded, this time a lot less hesitantly. As the shoot progressed, I realized how much I was truly loving it. I couldn’t help but feel a little turned on by all of it, especially after the steamy kiss Brad had just given me. Suddenly my world filled with bright light as he pulled the blindfold off and dropped it on the floor. I gave him a playful smile, eyes squinting from the light.
“You’re a natural.” He said with a devilish smirk as he cleaned the lipstick off my face. Then he walked away and pulled a whip off the wall before dragging the stool off to the side.
“Stand strong,” he instructed as he handed me the whip, but I just kept staring down at my hand holding it. I didn’t know what he meant for me to do. Getting the hint, Brad walked forward and adjusted me to stand with my legs shoulder width apart, pushed my chest out, placed a hand on my hip, while my other hand held up the whip at waist level.
“Look straight into the camera,” he told me before taking a few snaps. I played with different facial expressions, but was careful not to move from the pose.
He instructed me to stand with a hip popped out, holding the whip at different heights as he took photos. Sometimes he told me to smile, other times he told me to look serious.
“Now stand so that your side is to me and pop your hip again and hold the whip between both hands. Good. Now look over at me.” More snaps. “Turn to the other side and drape it over your shoulder, like you’re a teen runaway in a cartoon leaving home with a knapsack.”
I burst into laughter, something Brad was sure to take plenty of pictures of. I wasn’t sure how candid laughter fit into this sort of photo shoot, but he was the professional. I turned to the side and threw the whip over my shoulder, wincing when the tip of it licked my body.
“If you want to get whipped that badly, all you have to do is ask,” Brad joked.
I laughed some more and wagged my finger at him before posing exaggeratedly, the way I had pictured the cartoon following his instructions. Brad snapped a dozen pictures before we got serious with the pose.
“Crouch slightly, hold the whip between both hands and lift your chin a bit.” He took more photos and I took the liberty of changing up the pose, bending forward and pushing my ass out.
“Woah! There we go.” Brad laughed as he took a few more shots at different angles.
As time wore on, I eased into things more and more, enjoying all the poses and props he had for me. Every time he touched me I felt a sp
ark of electricity race up my back.
When he ran his hand up my leg and kissed me, I shuddered and felt my face grow hot. That heat swelled in my chest into a feeling of shame. I came to the city to be a model and I was doing it, but I was also doing this. I was dabbling in things I would have never thought possible. It was a drastically different life than the one I had back in Iowa. I almost felt like a different person. Something about doing this sort of photo shoot with Brad and enjoying it made me feel guilty, but I wasn’t sure why.
The evening after the leather-and-chains photo shoot, Brad took me to a fancy club in the West Village. It was my first time at a place like that, while I was excited, I couldn’t help but wonder if I should have made plans for something else. My guilt from the previous night hadn’t completely worn off. More than anything, I wanted to know where it came from because I loved the shoot. Despite its risqué nature, Brad managed to make me feel completely comfortable.
He ordered bottle service and praised me for a job well done, giving me pecks on the cheek and brushing my hair off my face. He continuously asked if there was anything else I wanted and checked to make sure I was having a good time.
“You were amazing yesterday afternoon.” He said as he pulled me in close. He kissed the corner of my mouth with a smile. I felt the charge between us growing. I crossed my legs and steadied my breathing as I leaned into him.
“Fuck, if you’re not the sexiest woman in all of New York City then I don’t know who is.” He whispered hot and heavy. His lips brushed against the lobe of my ear as he spoke. A flutter of hot tingles cascaded down the back of my neck, my grip on his knee tightening. Brad looked at me with interest.
“Brad,” I whispered, worried about the fact that we were out in public behaving like this. Our sexual tension had never been so strong, much less in a public space where anybody could see us, but it was pretty clear to me that was part of how enticing it all was.
“How did you like being tied up?”
I felt my cheeks burn and not from the alcohol or constant attention he gave me. I was embarrassed, but couldn’t deny the truth, “I loved it.”
I said it so quietly I was unsure Brad heard over the noise of our surroundings. He smirked and kissed me deep. I wanted to push him off purely out of concern that someone we knew might see us. I wanted to feel his body pressed up against me.
“I wasn’t really joking yesterday.”
“What are you talking about?”
“About whipping you,” he said with biggest smirk I’d ever seen on him. He leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Do you want to know what it’s like?”
I felt a knot in my chest drop down to the very pit of my stomach, feeling like it was on fire.
I knew what it was—I was turned on.
My thighs clenched tight as I drew in a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.
“Yes. I want to know what it’s like.”
He pressed me up against the wall behind the receptionist’s desk at Amorous Productions, both of us too lost in the fervent kiss to care if a passerby could see us through the large front windows. He ran his hands up my stomach stopping right under my breasts, pulling back to look at my eyes in the dark.
“Let’s go to the back,” I suggested, suddenly aware of the windows exposing us to the world. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall, thrusting the studio door open and pushing me against the wall. He kissed me deep and hard for before pulling back to catch his breath.
“Before we go any further, I need to know you’re sure you want to go through with this.”
I slowed down and thought about it. Sure, the feeling of shame came to mind, but it was far overpowered by how turned on I was at the photo shoot. I wanted to try more and I trusted Brad, not to mention he made my knees wobble and my heart race a million miles an hour. That was something I had never experienced before.
“I’m sure.”
He brushed my hair off my face and held my chin. “I don’t ever want you to feel pressured.”
“I don’t,” I assured him.
Despite everything being so far out of my comfort zone and pulling away from everything I had ever known, this was the least pressured I’d ever felt to do something by another person. And this was something I actually wanted.
“Really,” I told him, leaning in and giving him a quick peck on the lips.
“Okay, you have to know some things. I’m into a lot, but I’m experienced and I’m willing to guess this is your first time?” I nodded. “So I won’t go too far. I’ll play off your reactions. Most importantly, I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.” He paused to cradle my face in his hands, “You need a safety word, Chloe. It’s a word for you to use to ask me to stop.”
“But why can’t I just tell you to stop or say not to do something?”
“Sometimes, in the heat of things or in a role you play, you might say things like ‘stop’ or ‘no’ as part of it. A safety word is a sure thing to make sure no boundaries are crossed.”
I kissed him again. I had been right in thinking he was the perfect man to try these things with. He wasn’t a degenerate or some kind of lowlife who would ever dream of taking advantage of me. When the kiss ended and I leaned my head back against the wall I realized it wasn’t that easy to come up with a safety word. It had to be something I would never say in this kind of situation.
“Blueberry?”
Brad chuckled. “You would pick something like that,” he teased.
I playfully shoved his shoulder, “What’s that ‘posed to mean?” I purposely adopted my heaviest Iowa drawl to make him laugh even more. I flashed him a bright smile. That grin was soon covered by Brad’s mouth. He pulled me into his arms for a sweeping kiss before leading me over to the stool we had used for the photo shoot.
“Do you want me to get into the leather body suit?” I asked, breathing heavily against his lips.
Brad pressed his finger to my mouth and shook his head. “Don’t move,” he instructed before walking off to the back room.
He turned the lights on partially and dimmed them so we could see each other clear enough, but the mood wasn’t ruined. I saw he was holding the same lipstick that I used for the photoshoot. He uncapped it and wrapped my hair around his hand, pulling it so that my head tilted upward. Then, he pressed it to my lips, smiling a devilish-suggestive-grin as he did. My breath caught in my throat. I heard the lipstick fall with a clatter to the floor as he stared into my eyes.
“That red just makes me want to kiss that pretty mouth of yours even more.”
“So why don’t you?” As soon as the question left my mouth I realized how defiant I sounded. My mind wasn’t quick enough to think it would lead to punishment.
He grabbed my chin roughly between his thumb and index finger, slightly crushing it. I winced. “I will if I please,” he told me gruffly. “But do you think I want to mess up that lipstick?” He kissed the corner of my mouth before turning my head to the side so he could whisper in my ear, “I do but not yet. Not like this.”
My heart leapt to my throat. This was a lot more intense than I had imagined. Although unsure how I felt about it, I decided not to call it quits just yet. Brad wrapped his arms around me only to find the zipper of my dress. He slid it down until he slipped his hand under the opening to place it flat on my lower back, tips of his fingers grazing just above the waistband of my thong. He still hadn’t let go of my hair so he tugged on it again and looked into my eyes, bringing his face in so close I would have bet on him kissing me– but he didn’t. Slowly, he loosened his hold on my hair until he was pulling my dress down off my shoulders until it fell on the floor.
I felt more nervous now than the first time I stood in front of him wearing nothing but a bra and panties. This time it was intimate. This time it was passionate and rough. This time he didn’t need to hide the desire in his eyes when he stepped back and looked over every inch of my body, taking in my sizeable cleavage, flat and smooth stomach, the cu
rve of my hips, and my long, shapely legs.
I knew he was thinking I was damn sexy and, if I wasn’t so nervous, I would have felt like I was. Taking my hand, Brad led me over to the wall where the many leather straps and chains hung. He walked back over to grab the stool and ordered me to sit on it before pulling rope cuffs off the wall. He pulled my arms around the back of the stool and secured them with the rope cuffs, which didn’t scratch or chafe my skin as much as I had expected. Then he grabbed a chain to secure the center of the rope cuffs to the stretcher bar of the stool, effectively tugging my arms downward a bit.
It was an uncomfortable position, but it still made my heart pump with excitement. The thrill of being tied to the stool and at Brad’s mercy was almost more than I could handle. Never before had I felt more vulnerable. My mind was abuzz with questions of what would come next. He stood in front of me with a smile.
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