Kayla - The First Four Weeks

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Kayla - The First Four Weeks Page 29

by Bridy McAvoy


  “Very nice, Kayla, if a slightly bigger reaction than we’d all bargained for. Will you turn round and face us once more for a few final shots.”

  Somewhat dazed, and on shaky legs, Kayla turned to face them, exposing her pussy to them as she stood there, legs still parted and leaning back against the wall for support, trying to suck in air.

  “Put one hand on your pussy, sweetie. Make it look like you did that all on your lonesome.”

  She obeyed, not fully functioning as she put her hand on her still throbbing mound, and then spread her fingers as Chris continued his instructions, finally spreading her pussy lips with her fingers as he continued with the lewder and lewder display.

  “And…that’s a wrap. Thank you, Kayla. That was awesome.”

  Kayla opened her eyes and guiltily removed her hand from her pussy where her index finger had idly been stroking along her slit in a parody of Steve’s actions. Her panties were wrapped around her ankles so she stepped clear with one foot, kicked them away with the other and looked down at the mucky front yard and the way it coated her best white patent pumps.

  “If they don’t come clean, you owe me for some shoes, Chris.”

  He shrugged. “Put it on the bill, sweetie—now time to get ready for the next shoot.”

  Kayla stepped forward and looked at the discarded, and now filthy, underwear. Rather than leaving it lying there, although she didn’t know what she was going to do with it, she bent over and picked it up, carrying it between the fingers of one hand, well away from her body.

  “Good job you’d already paid for these. I suspect they’ve had it as well.”

  Once more Chris just shrugged. “Right, Kayla, On the bus you’ll find a carrier with the word “Promotion” written on it. You’ll find your outfit for the next shoot inside it. Don’t worry about the sun screen – this shoot is inside the unit. You’ll find it’s a white outfit; the reasons for why it’s white will become clear. The t-shirt has a big logo on it which is strategically placed, given there’s no bra.” He grinned at her. “The shorts are supposed to be tight, but obviously you’ve not been fitted so, if there’s a VPL, lose the panties. Under the seat on the right you’ll find a pair of white gym shoes, slip-on ones. Put those on rather than heels. Okay?”

  She nodded as she reached the door to the bus.

  “Brad and Phil, help me get the set ready. The other two…well, you can take some shots of Kayla changing if you want.”

  “What?” Kayla spun back round to face him.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie I told you, the back of the bus is your territory, they won’t come into it. But I did say you might get photographed getting ready there, remember?”

  She glared at him, but he was right. He had told her that, and she hadn’t objected then—it was more difficult to do so now, standing there naked except for her shoes.

  Chapter 3

  Once she’d sat down on the back seat of the bus, Kayla reached for the packet of wet wipes to clean herself up. Not only were her legs streaked with dust and dirt from the yard, but her mound and inner thighs were a sticky mess from the attention Steve had given her, her own juices coating her skin. She glowered at the two men watching her from the row of seats in front of her, and trusted they would stick to the rules Chris had laid down. After that one frown she ignored them, and concentrated on making herself presentable for the next shoot.

  The bag Chris had told her labeled ’Promotion’ was the one lying on the top of the pile on the seat next to her and she unzipped it and looked inside. There was no sign of Chris, Phil and Brad and she assumed they’d disappeared inside the small door to the reception areas of the industrial unit behind the bus.

  The bag contained a t-shirt with the word Swarfega emblazoned across the chest in a lurid green on the otherwise plain white cotton. She checked the size label and saw it was a six despite the fact both Chris and Teri knew she took an eight, so it was patently clear Chris wanted the shirt tight. It was also ridiculously thin as well so there was no way it would conceal much, especially if she started to sweat. The shorts that followed the shirt out of the bag were equally tight and, again, a size too small. They weren’t simply short shorts; they were even smaller than that. She didn’t bother fishing the panties from the bag, the frothy piece of while lace would only give a massive VPL so there was no point in putting them on only to take them off again. The guys watching and taking the occasional picture might like that, but that was tough as far as she was concerned.

  Kayla was used to her changing time being her private time—the two guys watching meant it wasn’t any more and she felt unhappy about that, although there was nothing she could do about it. She pulled the shirt over her head and struggled to pull it down.

  It was worse than tight, she felt she could hardly breathe, and it held her breasts in a vice. Since she was being watched she’d been unable to relax enough for her nipples to subside so they pointed straight out, clearly visible through the thin fabric—one pushing out the ‘w’ and the other the ‘g’ of the legend on the shirt. Pulling the shorts up was even harder—they were so tight she had to pull and shimmy to get them into place.

  “Want some help?”

  “No!”

  “Only offered.”

  “Thank you, no!”

  They laughed and she had to smile—she must look a sight trying to force her ass into the tiny garment and, without looking down, she guessed the cotton would show a camel toe as soon as she walked in them, even if it didn’t now.

  She sat down again, gingerly in case the shorts split, but they had enough stretch in them to cope, and pulled the pair of white gym shoes into place. The cheap white flats felt odd after spending so long in heels already, but they’d did give her feet some relief.

  A quick check of her makeup revealed nothing was out of place and a few flicks of the hairbrush satisfied her with her hair.

  Behind the bus the large roller door went up with a massive clatter and Kayla couldn’t stop the squeak of surprise escaping her lips as the sound startled her. She almost jumped off the floor as the sound reverberated through the bus and the otherwise empty yard.

  “God!”

  The two men on the bus chuckled at her reaction and then compared shots on the view-screens of their camera; they’d taken pictures of her at that moment. She frowned at them but that simply made them laugh even more.

  Chris appeared at the bus door on his own.

  “You ready, sweetie?”

  She nodded, licked her lips and moved to pass between the two students. One of them, the one on the right, so it had to be Steve, slapped her butt as she moved past.

  “Ow!”

  She turned and glared at him. He held his hands up.

  “You passed the line, baby; you’re strictly off limits when you’re past the line of these seats. You’re in front of there now.”

  “I don’t care. Hands off!”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Chris chuckled and wagged his finger at Steve who simply laughed. Andy, who had been a bystander through it, leaned forward and ran his finger over the curve of her ass.

  “Nice.”

  “Oh…balls to the pair of you!”

  Kayla stalked down the bus, brushed past Chris and stepped back down into the yard before turning and facing the now cavernous opening where Brad and Phil stood waiting for the rest of them. That was a shock in itself—the two men were no longer dressed in t-shirts and jeans, but had changed into workman’s overalls, which looked greasy and had certainly seen better days. Looking past them she could see an old forklift, positioned in the middle of the open doorway, half in the sun and half in the shade. The forks themselves had a wooden pallet loaded on them, and she was pretty sure this was the set for the shoot. Although, why the two men were dressed as they were was a mystery.

  She turned to look at Chris for guidance but he was deeply involved with the other two guys, talking technical details, and she assumed that was about lighting, given the
extreme variation between the sunlit and shaded areas inside the old warehouse. She could see it had been a warehouse now—there were rows of decrepit looking staging and shelving stretching into the distance—empty of course, but their purpose was obvious.

  Her attention was caught by something bright green sitting near the steering wheel of the forklift. As she peered closer at it she saw it was the same shade green as the writing on her own t-shirt, and she assumed the writing on it was the same as the logo she wore. She still had no idea what the product was so decided to investigate for herself. Chris was still immersed in his conversation with Steve and Andy, and the other two simply stood there looking at her. Well, devouring her with their eyes would have been a better way of putting it. She knew Chris had supplied her with an undersized outfit for one reason—to make her look as hot and sexy as possible, and their reactions confirmed it.

  She walked a few paces past the doorway and quickly looked back over her shoulder. She caught both of them staring at her ass and they looked up, Brad flushing at having been caught. Neither had their cameras with them, and she could see no evidence of their camera bags inside, so wondered what was happening. The realization stuck a few seconds later—if they didn’t have cameras, they would be taking part in the shoot, in some way!

  Picking up the tin of what she now knew was Swarfega she looked at it curiously then read the label—it was a cleaning product she’d never heard of, and it was for removing oil and grime from your skin, especially your hands! Two men in dirty overalls, a tin of cleaning product and her dressed in pure white. She shuddered—the conclusion was pretty obvious and she remembered Teri telling her on the first week, sometimes the model had to get dirty, that’s why they had the shower in the studio. The trouble was, there was no shower here, and she couldn’t see how they could improvise one. She looked around and noticed a ten litre water spray sitting next to the mini-bus, on the opposite side from the door, which is why she hadn’t seen it before. That was going to be the improvised, cold shower. She shuddered again.

  Kayla looked up as Chris and the other two walked through the doorway.

  “Are we all ready?”

  “No!”

  Kayla’s instinctive response drew another round of chuckles from the five men, and she waited for Chris to respond.

  “So what do you think is going to happen now, Kayla?”

  “Duh! I would have thought that was obvious. I’m dressed in white, advertising what I now know is a cleaning product—this place is dirty, so I can make a connection.”

  “Good girl. Almost right, but not quite.”

  “Oh?”

  “You didn’t mention Brad and Phil and the way they’re dressed.

  Kayla decided to be disingenuous.

  “I assumed that was because they had to move things around in here for you, and didn’t want to get their own clothes dirty?”

  She batted her eyelids at Chris, outrageously, and was rewarded with another round of laughter. Chris knew she was kidding on the square, too, and carried on.

  “I’d have thought the fact they didn’t have their cameras with them would have given you a clue.”

  She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips and subtly arched her back, making her breasts stick out, which earned a couple of whistles from two of the men and another chuckle from Chris.

  “Right, double check your light bracketing and exposure for these shots. Everything is going to happen quite fast so you won’t have time to adjust. Are you both ready?”

  Steve and Andy both nodded and Chris turned and nodded to the other two men who moved to stand next to Kayla where she stood in front of the forklift.

  “Now, Kayla, the idea is for you to start by demonstrating the cleaning gunk—and, by the way, it is nice green gooey gunk—to these guys, and rubbing it into their hands. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Right, just grab the tub and twist off the lid, lay the lid on the pallet behind you and lean against the pallet itself. Brad, move closer and hold out your left hand. Kayla, dig your index finger into the gunk and lift it out with a blob of the stuff…good. Remember, you’re the promotions girl, so you should be smiling all the time, not frowning ’cos it doesn’t feel very nice.”

  He was right, it didn’t feel very nice. She’d expected smooth gunk but this stuff was gritty as if there was sand mixed into it. It did flow and move under her probing finger, though, and was generally horrible stuff.

  “I don’t mind this on my hands but I’m not getting this anywhere else!”

  Chris smiled at her. “There’s another tub concealed in the forklift cab. Once we reach that point, we’ll switch them. That one’s been emptied and the contents replaced with washing-up liquid. It looks similar, but doesn’t work as well; we might need to rub a bit longer.”

  The guys all laughed and Kayla took a few seconds to process the information. Firstly, her guess at the way the shoot was going to pan out was probably correct and, secondly, Chris had no intention of letting her clean herself up, which also explained the presence of two guys—there’s no way they could operate their cameras with slippery hands. Since the last shoot last week had involved Andy and Steve close up and touching, Chris had set this shoot up with these two.

  She frowned at him and stuck her tongue out again, which she knew was fast becoming her trademark way of telling Chris she wasn’t happy about something. He, as always, ignored it and carried on.

  “Right, Brad, extend your hand a bit further. Now Kayla, give him a bright smile and rub your finger over his palm…no, sweetie, you know I meant the one with the gunk on it.”

  Kayla giggled—it had been an automatic thing to use the wrong finger. She hadn’t thought about it and now she’d made herself look a total airhead which, given the role she was supposed to be playing in this shoot, was about right.

  “Is it working, Brad? Tilt your hand so we can see. Yep, it’s starting to work on the grease, but, Kayla, you need more. Get some more on your fingers, use more than one finger this time, and make sure you accidentally on purpose drip a little of it onto the bottom of your t-shirt.”

  “Not the top bit where my breasts are?”

  “No, the bottom—you said it, sweetie, you don’t want that stuff anywhere near your sensitive bits. Okay. Now, as you’re rubbing I want you to overbalance a bit and, Brad, use your other hand on her arm to steady her. Of course, as a result we get some muck transfer…that’s good, very good, in fact. Kayla, ignore the muck on your arm, and concentrate on demonstrating this new product to the mechanic.”

  “Is it a new product?”

  Chris laughed. “Method acting, are we? Actually, Kayla, it’s quite new over here—it’s made the other side of the pond and the English have been exporting it around the world but not, for some reason, to us. Now they are. It’s very good, but expensive, so slow to catch on. Is that enough information for you?”

  She grinned at him. “A simple yes or no would have done.”

  “Phil, move in a little closer and put your hand out. Kayla, get some more of the gunk and repeat the process on Phil’s hand…good girl. Now, Brad, I want you to casually put your hand on her shoulder, not the one that’s now partially clean—the dirty one. Kayl, turn back to him and put some more gunk on his hand then stand up straight and turn to face him.”

  She glanced at her shoulder—there was a pretty good handprint there and she guessed there were going to be more.

  “Phil, I want you to smack her left cheek with your dirty hand, please. Be firm enough to make sure you leave an impression on the shorts, but don’t hurt her—that’s not on the agenda for this shoot.”

  Kayla glared at the professional photographer and tensed her buns in anticipation of the slap that had just been ordered.

  Slap!

  She jumped—almost off the ground and staggered forward into Brad from the force of the impact. “Ow!”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that hard, but it sure has left a good impress
ion.”

  She glared at Phil and reached round to rub her sore butt.

  “Don’t do that! You’ll spoil the handprint. Let’s have a look at your front. Oh, god, that was just about perfect. Look at yourself Kayla.”

  Following Chris’s instructions, she looked down to see Brad’s overalls had transferred a load of grease and muck onto the front of the t-shirt, her hip where she’d collided with him and onto the fronts of her thighs as far down as her knees. She was a mess, and it was obvious the clothing was completely ruined.

  “We need a couple of extras and that concludes the first part of the shoot—the getting her dirty bit. Kayla, lift your arms up and hold your hair out of the wa— we don’t want this stuff in your hair…good girl. Now, keep it like that and lean back into Phil so the back of your tee gets dirty…good. Stand still and don’t flinch. Phil, grab her left tit with your left hand since she smeared gunk on your right.”

  She gasped as she felt Phil’s large hand grasp her breast and squeeze, the man intent on enjoying the transfer of grease as much as possible. After a few seconds he let go and she could see a clear imprint of his hand on the front of her shirt.

  “Kayla, keep your hands there and turn and face Phil, now back into Brad. Brad, your right hand…her right tit, please.”

  She tried not to squirm but Brad got the benefit of Phil’s contact with her breasts having forced her nipples to harden. She heard him suck in some air as he came into contact with the hardened point and she smiled inwardly.

  “Right, final point…stand still, Kayla. Brad, drop your hand and press firmly on her mound, leave a nice handprint on her pussy area. Put a handprint on her thigh as well while you’re there. Kayla, open your legs so he can wrap that onto your inner thigh.”

 

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