Compulsion

by Don Julian Winslow

  The kid squirmed, groaned, tossing helplessly in her vehement grip.

  ***

  Flo looked down on her Star, who lay on the sofa with her head cradled in her mother’s skirted lap. Star’s closed eyes were clenching spasmodically, her tightened lips grunting in curt staccato, with each thrust of the rock-hard prick driven into her by the boy whose sweaty naked body covered her own. Flo smiled down on her daughter benevolently, stroking her fevered brow, touching her hair, delicately re-arranging a few loose strands of the blond silk.

  ***

  The bare-breasted, the sun-drenched, bleached blonde stood with her heels set wide apart, bending over the sofa, her elbows braced on the padded back.

  The black and white minidress was gone, having had been disposed of in a kind of bump-and-grind that left the dancer naked to the hips. She still retained her high-heeled shoes and her sheer pantyhose, although those were now spanning her thighs in a bunch left just above her knees. The stretching thong also bound those splayed-open thighs, the displaced panties allowing the boy behind her to admire the mature fullness of the naked feminine bottom he held by the hips as he rode the woman, hard; fascinated to watch his wet gleaming cock pumping in and out of that well-oiled cunt. The husky lad threw back his head, closed his eyes and, coming up on his toes arched back, holding his cock deep in her churning pussy, determined to fully savor the heavenly feel of those slick lips that clung to his shaft hungrily sucking along the length of his pistoning cock.

  Star, kneeling on the seat of the sofa, held Flo’s hands in hers, looking into her mother’s unseeing eyes as the older woman rocked back and forth, absorbing the vigorous, bone-jarring pounding her hard-working young stud was giving her so relentlessly.

  “Unnnngh…Oh, yeah, stud, fuck me....fuck me!…fuck mee!!!!…” Flo’s deep-throated growl rose to a demanding shriek while the bucking hips of her young stallion slammed into her repeatedly, sending her careening to the edge of ecstasy.

  11. Show Me

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  It has been said that for every exhibitionist there is a voyeur. For all those driven by the fever of an insatiable sexual curiosity, there are those who find the most exquisite of thrills when showing themselves as nature intended – for all the world to see. It may be a happy coincidence, when fate brings such complimentary souls together. But what appears to be coincidence at first blush will sometimes be found to be the consequences of a more deliberate plan. Who may be next to come through the door? Has the rendezvous already been arranged? Is it fate, or deliberate seduction, that brings the seekers to find their most profound satisfaction?

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  Slipping off her thong, Kate felt little twinge of wickedness. She placed the skimpy panties with the rest of her clothes on the little bench. Then she stood up and was in the act of reaching up to slide back the curtain of the booth, when she caught sight of herself in the mirror and froze in place, her upraised hand suspended in the air. Suddenly, she felt wave of panic: she didn’t want to go through with this. But that was silly! Old lady Crowthers had told her to undress, to the buff she had added pointedly; and undress she would. After all, it wasn’t like she didn’t know what she was getting into. A girl didn’t hire the Rodgers Agency to represent her; they decided if they wanted her: She reminded herself. And Madeleine Crowthers was the Andora Rodgers Agency. It was well known that she personally decided on each and every client the agency took on. And if you wanted to join that prestigious stable, you had no choice but to send them a CD with your portfolio, and then, if they liked you, you could hope to be invited in for one of their famous “interviews.”

  Maxi had filled her in, telling her exactly what to expect. It wasn’t enough to get them to look at your photos, that was only the first step. If they liked what they saw they would want the personal interview…and maybe more than that. The way it worked was the applicant would meet some of the staff, and be asked a few questions. If the interview went well she would be invited to “audition” -- trying on a few things, and posing for a photo set with one of their photographers. After that, the photographer and the rest of the office staff would be dismissed; Ms Crowthers herself would see the would-be model for a more private interview of a more private nature, just one-on-one. And here Maxi chuckled: it was a safe bet that, at some point, the old Lezzie would have her latest would-be model out of her clothes in less than a minute.

  Madeleine had widely proclaimed her theory that the truest test of a great model was how well the girl carried off posing in the nude. She maintained it was a nothing more than a little test she devised -- to see how the young woman reacted to being totally exposed, to being looked at, to submitting her bare body for intense scrutiny. But everyone in the office, in fact everyone in the fashion business, knew of Madeleine Crowther’s predilection for beautiful girls. She was often seen at parties with a different girl on her arm. And so the staff just smiled knowingly as they picked up their papers and filed out of the main studio, leaving the boss lady alone with the new girl.

  Now Kate stood alone and naked in the narrow booth, her heart pounding. From somewhere far away an air conditioner purred along sending just the slightest breeze rippling down over her naked body. determined to summon up her courage as she turned toward the full-length mirror. The pretty dark-haired girl looked back at her with clear blue eyes held evenly in a face that seemed calm and settled. She knew she couldn’t let her nervousness show. She tired her best ‘model’s smile’ on the girl in mirror, and was pleased with the results. She sent clawed fingers hurriedly raking through the shag of short dark hair; flicked the tip of her tongue over her working lips. She turned to more fully face the mirror, standing at loose attention, hands at her sides. She studied her lean torso, her shoulders, the curve of her neck. A hand came up, the fingers curving to uplift the taut curve of a delicate breast. 'Not bad,' she decided, rubbing a thumb over the nipple, lightly squeezing the firm little mound to test its spongy elasticity.

  Suddenly she flashed on a picture of herself stepping out into the room only to immediately crouch over and throw her arms around her nakedness in a futile effort to shield her private parts with crossed hands, like some cartoon babe. It brought a smile to her lips.

  Feeling better, she turned back to squarely face the curtain, took a deep breath and with all the flair she could muster, flung back the curtain to step out boldly, decisively, with her best fashion model’s stride. Head held high and shoulders back, Kate Plummer, naked as the day she was born, took her first step into the big world of fashion.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ms Crowthers, sitting there waiting for her. She couldn’t help marveling at how good the older woman looked in her expensive suit and silky champagne blouse. She was the picture of sophisticated glamour; an ex-model who managed to maintain that marvelous poise, almost effortlessly it seemed. She was still beautiful, even though she must be pushing 60. Madeleine had gotten comfortable: taken off her suit jacket, slipped off her shoes. She had eased back in the chair; one crossed nyloned leg swinging idly while she held up a cigarette in her left hand. Her intent eyes were examining the body of the slow moving nude.

  Kate knew what was wanted; expected of a model on review. All her training came back to her. She imagined herself on the runway, ignoring the crowd and the seated woman whose eyes followed her every move as she sauntered imperiously along, lean and lanky, her gaze straight ahead, locked on some distant horizon, hips swaying, hands dangling at her sides.

  That steady critical gaze of Madeleine’s never wavered, though her lips creased into a smile, as though to encourage the young girl.

  “Relax, dear. I won’t bite. Come closer. Let’s see you better. I want you to show me what you’ve got." The professional smiled stayed plastered on those painted lips, but the words were dry and business-like.

  Young Kate tossed back her head, strai
ghtened a bit and placed one bare foot in front of the other, evenly balancing herself as she strode up and down in front of the seated woman, holding herself in that precise way she has practiced for hours: exactly eight paces, then a pause to pivot with what she hoped was the effortless graceful sway of a model. Madeline studied the naked girl, nodding silently, as though making up her mind.

  “Now I want you to put your shoes back on. Then hands on hips... and back and forth again, this time more slowly, and a bit sexier. I want ‘unattainable, yet slyly seductive.’ You can do that for me, can’t you Kate?”

  The lanky brunette retrieved her black heels, slipped them on her bare feet. She rose to her full height, took a deep breath, set her hands along her pointed hips, and thrust her shoulders back, thus lifting her petite breasts into heightened prominence. Madeleine regarded her in silence.

  Madeleine, through long years of experience, had no doubt of what she was looking for – that indefinable something possessed by the very top models. Her critical eye took in the angular cheekbones that lent Kate’s crisp features a delicately-sculpted quality. The girl had the elegant lines of a thoroughbred, and she moved wit the grace of big cat. Madeline knew plenty of girls who would kill for that type of exquisite hauteur. Did this girl know just how pretty she was? One could never be sure. So many girls were insecure, tormented by their own demons, striving for that elusive quality they could never achieve.

  The calm serenity she worked so hard to maintain, belied the hidden concentration that the young woman was bringing to the precise act of placing one foot in front of the other, toes pointed straight ahead. Head held erect; her face, expressionless, she walked an imaginary balance beam in her high heels, allowing her slim hips an even, natural sway.

  She stole a quick glance down and caught a gleam in her observer’s eye. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly a wave of incredible wickedness came over the girl at the realization that she was prancing around in nothing but her shoes in front of a woman whose interest in her might be a good deal more than professional!

  She never wavered, held herself erect, striving to maintain that studied composure as she sauntered back and forth, back and forth in easy rhythm, always acutely aware of the eyes that followed her. After making a half a dozen circuits, she paused in a poised stance: the left leg forward, planted firmly, the right leg a little behind, the foot turned outward. She looks expectantly to the seated woman who now lifted a single finger to beckon her even closer.

  Obediently Kate came to her, looking around the room with what she hoped was studied nonchalance, trying a smile, secretly wishing she could distance herself far beyond Madeleine's critical gaze. But that she couldn’t do. She remained always acutely aware of Madeleine’s presence: those large eloquent eyes that took in her nudity -- worldly eyes, perfectly shadowed, with lashes that were dark, long and silky.

  Those eyes didn’t miss a thing, her every movement was observed, as Madeleine’s gaze raked the clean lines of the young model’s sleek figure, sweeping her from head to toe.

  Kate sensed the appreciation growing in those eyes. More self-conscious now, but flattered and inordinately pleased. The girl felt a rush of warm triumph, her cheeks flushed, burning, as if with embarrassment. Yet it was not exactly embarrassment, she felt; not really. It was simply that she had become acutely aware of a quiet thrill that now electrified her; she felt keenly aware and alive. And it struck her again, this time with absolute certainty: there is something very sexy about this. Her heart was pounding; her whole body a-tingle -- the tension, unbearable.

  'Come on, you're being absurd,' she mentally reproached herself. 'After all, here you are in a legitimate studio, no less than the Andora Rodgers studio, and Madeleine Crowthers is a highly successful, sophisticated woman -- one who's been around. She’s certainly seen her share of models, with and without clothes on. Surely she wouldn’t try hitting on me!’ Still, Maxi words came back to her: ‘She’ll have you out of your clothes in less than a minute.’

  The young woman now held herself motionless. No one would have guessed as to the interior monologue running in her head: ‘This is it, kid! Don't blow it -- the chance of a lifetime -- the most exclusive agency in New York. There were plenty of girls who would kill for a chance to become a Rodgers girl. You got to do it -- whatever it takes.’

  The crisp brunette summoned up all she had learned from four years of drama classes, and forced herself to slip into the well-practiced role of fashion model: casually indifferent to her nudity, cool and unruffled, poised in what she hoped might pass for that elusive professional air of easy nonchalance.

  Yet, there was something in this situation that caused a stirring deep in her. She's never felt quite so naked in front of another woman before, so completely, totally exposed.

  Other girls had seen her naked, of course: In changing for gym class at school, and later, in the locker room at the gym she went to work out every Thursday. But that was different. No girl had ever looked at her quite like this, with that probing intensity, and the definite hint of sex in the air.

  She would keep her eyes carefully averted, paying no mind to the other girls as she stepped into her swimming suit, or hastily jumped into her clothes after a quick shower. Even in the shower room at the dorm, she tired not to look, though it was understandable that the girls might sneak a peek at one another, curious, inevitably comparing feminine charms, secretly envying a nice set of boobs, a tight high-set butt, or a good-looking pair of legs.

  Suddenly from out of the blue, Meg flashed into her mind; a time-frozen snapshot that caught her college roommate at bending over as she stepped out of her fallen panties. That evocative image moved her so profoundly, stayed with her -- Meg's lithe, compact body bowed in a graceful arc; the clean nude lines of that slim, supple form, the narrow pointy breasts with precise tight nipples dangling down, as Meg bent over and reached down while raising each foot in turn to free her ankles from the ring of her thin white underpants. Meg half-bent over, had suddenly glanced up from under her bangs, and she caught her roommate staring at her! Kate stood paralyzed -- startled by the look her friend gave her, an appealing, frightened smile -- the look of a deer caught in the headlights. She hurriedly turned away.

  But how that brief glimpse of her roommate’s nakedness had moved Kate! Disturbing feelings welled up in her, and she couldn’t help feeling incredibly randy as she lingered, taking her time getting dressed, sauntering around the room in just her underwear, watching her girlfriend out of the corner of her eye, hoping, crazily, that she was being watched in turn.

  It is said that everyone has homosexual tendencies, some deny them more firmly. Maybe the searing ache Kate felt for Meg was only that and no more -- a budding urge that flared and died in a mere moment. After all, she was an impressionable adolescent; Meg, her very best friend. She loved Meg like a sister, and it was only natural that she would appreciate her youthful beauty.

  But this! This is something different! Here she was expected to casually stand around, in nothing but her high-heeled pumps, and let this lecherous old lady get her kicks from seeing her naked. She was positioned only inches away from the chair, close enough so that Madeleine could reach out and touch her if she wished to do so. But she didn't. Instead she lit another cigarette, and leaned back to let her eyes slowly travel up to Kate's face.

  The object of this attention, her hands still on her hips, was intensely aware of the hot burning gaze on her face, on her breasts, which suddenly feel heavy and swollen, on her unprotected sex, poised just inches before Madeleine's unblinking eyes. Her heels were set an inch or so apart, and now she surreptitiously closed the gap, shifting her weight to her right leg, and bringing the other forward just a bit, bending the knee slightly, as though she might partially shield the darkly shaded triangle. The subtle shift did not escape the older woman's notice, bringing a knowing smile to her lips.

  Kate didn't see that smile for she was looking off into the distance striking the pose with what she
hoped was that marvelous sang-froid she so deeply admired. Madeleine, taking in that tight young body, the smooth subtle curves and the lightly furred delta between the legs, said not a word.

  Feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the silence, Kate looked down with an inquisitive look. As she met the older woman's eyes, she was taken aback. Something moved her, a thin ripple of excitement. She felt herself blushing when she saw that special gleam in Madeleine's eyes. She knew that look! Before she had been unsure, but now ...It was unmistakable! It was a look of desire. So it was true, what Maxi had said. Madeleine was Gay! And here she was, parading around in the nude in front of a Lesbian who was about to hit on her!

  "Hands at your sides. Turn around." The order was given softly and illustrated with a single taloned finger used to trace a circle in the air.

  Kate, reeling from the sudden rush of awareness, caught a glimpse of a leggy dark-haired girl nude presented in the tri-fold mirrors, watching her turn as she had been ordered to, offering her slender body to be viewed from all angles; the pert breasts, taut curves seen in perfect profile; sleek haunches and; the tall straight legs.

  The thought came to Kate with earth-shaking certainty: She's a Lesbian; she's looking at me like that: like a man! She wants me! The thought sent a shiver through her.

  She felt herself flush with the full realization of the situation she found herself in -- showing herself like this -- it brought on a new feeling, a keen agitation; danger, heightened by a definite thrill of excitement. There was a tingling throughout her body, a familiar, sexy tingling. And there was the deeper, unmistakable aching throb in her womb. And then...there was something else. For with this growing awareness of her effect on Madeleine, comes a sense of power, her own raw seductive power. It is as if she were showing herself to a hungry man that she could hold in the palm of her hand!