1/90 @ f:/8
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,108
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,108
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a piece of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
1/90 @ f:/8
The bare modeling lamps shine on my bare body, casting harsh and bleak shadows
across the pure white backdrop. Sweat glistens on my bare chest.
One of the lamps is above the camera, obscuring my view of the
photographer. I arch my back, my right side facing the camera. The
lights pop in an instant of blinding intensity and return to their
previous light levels.
I turn my back to the camera, jut out my ass and look over my shoulder
with a wry smile. The flash triggers again, giving me a split second
of relief from the blazing heat of the modeling lamps.
I hear from behind the camera, "Fantastic. Just like that." I thank the
photograper and try moving my left hand so it's planted on my ass. POP.
"You're doing great. Hey, would you mind spreading your asscheeks a
little?" the photographer suggested. We talked about possibly doing more
than just artistic nudes, but I chalked it up to joking.
I spread my asscheeks apart, showing the puckered asshole. POP. "Is that
good?" I ask. I mean, he's a rather influential photographer. I need
to make him happy if I'm going to go anywhere in this business.
"So far, so good." he replies curtly. "How about you put a finger in?"
While I don't know about this, he is the photographer, and I am the model.
"You know what, if you aren't liking the direction this shoot is going,
you can always quit. It is your career I am sure you will be easy to
replace."
I choke back the tears as I tell him "No, sir. I trust you."
"As well you should," he replies coldly. "Now here is what you are going
to do. You are going to trust me, do exactly what I say. I could have
any aspiring model in here, but I chose you because I thought you would
be a good girl and do exactly as I tell you. Apparently I was wrong.
Am I wrong?"
"N..no sir" I quietly reply.
"I didn't hear you. Am I wrong?" he says with a burning anger."I need
to know now if you will or will not work out. You can be replaced
but the pictures I have already taken I can not."
"N...no sir"
"Are you going to be a good girl, or are you going to be another of those
horrid amateurish cunts. Those stupid little twats who know nothing about
art, spouting on about being 'fierce.' The only thing they have going for
them is that they are marginally attractive."
"I will be a good girl, sir."
"Good. Perhaps I can find some use for you after all." he calmly states as
he tosses me an eggplant. "Now make yourself useful. Fit that into your
asshole. Bottom first."
A tear glistens down my face as the eggplant stretches my little anus and
I hear that all too familiar sound of the studio strobes being activated.
across the pure white backdrop. Sweat glistens on my bare chest.
One of the lamps is above the camera, obscuring my view of the
photographer. I arch my back, my right side facing the camera. The
lights pop in an instant of blinding intensity and return to their
previous light levels.
I turn my back to the camera, jut out my ass and look over my shoulder
with a wry smile. The flash triggers again, giving me a split second
of relief from the blazing heat of the modeling lamps.
I hear from behind the camera, "Fantastic. Just like that." I thank the
photograper and try moving my left hand so it's planted on my ass. POP.
"You're doing great. Hey, would you mind spreading your asscheeks a
little?" the photographer suggested. We talked about possibly doing more
than just artistic nudes, but I chalked it up to joking.
I spread my asscheeks apart, showing the puckered asshole. POP. "Is that
good?" I ask. I mean, he's a rather influential photographer. I need
to make him happy if I'm going to go anywhere in this business.
"So far, so good." he replies curtly. "How about you put a finger in?"
While I don't know about this, he is the photographer, and I am the model.
"You know what, if you aren't liking the direction this shoot is going,
you can always quit. It is your career I am sure you will be easy to
replace."
I choke back the tears as I tell him "No, sir. I trust you."
"As well you should," he replies coldly. "Now here is what you are going
to do. You are going to trust me, do exactly what I say. I could have
any aspiring model in here, but I chose you because I thought you would
be a good girl and do exactly as I tell you. Apparently I was wrong.
Am I wrong?"
"N..no sir" I quietly reply.
"I didn't hear you. Am I wrong?" he says with a burning anger."I need
to know now if you will or will not work out. You can be replaced
but the pictures I have already taken I can not."
"N...no sir"
"Are you going to be a good girl, or are you going to be another of those
horrid amateurish cunts. Those stupid little twats who know nothing about
art, spouting on about being 'fierce.' The only thing they have going for
them is that they are marginally attractive."
"I will be a good girl, sir."
"Good. Perhaps I can find some use for you after all." he calmly states as
he tosses me an eggplant. "Now make yourself useful. Fit that into your
asshole. Bottom first."
A tear glistens down my face as the eggplant stretches my little anus and
I hear that all too familiar sound of the studio strobes being activated.