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Part 2: Bird on a Wire
I have tried in my way to be free
Lenny wasn't that happy when I excitedly told me my good news and I wondered for the umpteenth time why I bothered staying with him, as he was always critical of me. I longed for romance and love but knew our relationship wasn't going anywhere, as he was just too chauvinistic.
Monday saw me nervously walking into 'Cut' but Nancy welcomed me and made me feel right at home straight away by taking me around and introducing me. Everyone was friendly and really nice and I felt quite at home when we stopped outside a closed office door. "Time to meet Suzanne, the boss," Nancy said, knocking on the door and opening it.
A dark haired woman in her thirties, sitting behind a cluttered desk, looked up and smiled as we entered. "Suzanne," Nancy said. "This is Marianne, the girl I told you about? This is her first day."
"Hello, Marianne," Suzanne said, "Welcome to 'Cut' magazine."
"Thanks," I said, smiling at her and admiring her clothes. Suzanne was dressed in style in a fashionable business suit and soft silk blouse. Her jewellery said she had both money and class and, on top of all that, she was extraordinarily beautiful.
Suzanne smiled at me, her eyes twinkling. "How long have you been in London ?"
"Three years," I answered, glancing at Nancy who smiled at me. "I know, I haven't lost the accent."
Suzanne laughed. "I suppose it could be charming." She turned to Nancy . "Have you thought of photographing her? She could be a model."
Nancy nodded. "Nice bone structure but not tall enough and too big in the chest." I blushed as they casually discussed me but I knew that this industry used models as property.
The weeks flew as I threw myself into every thing I was told to do and at the end of three weeks, Suzanne called me into her office. "You're doing very well, Marianne. Lucy is leaving to have her baby soon and I would like you to move into her job. Interested?" she asked as she raised an eyebrow.
Lucy was Suzanne's Editorial Assistant, and I was astonished at the offer, as it was a great job. "Of course," I gasped.
"I need someone with an eye for detail and design. Don't get carried away, Marianne, it's really just my assistant with a small pay rise."
"Thank you so much, Suzanne," I smiled and she regally waved a hand.
"Not at all, my dear," her dark eyes searching mine deeply. "I think you'll do very well indeed."
I sat in most of the meetings and began to really understand and enjoy the publishing business as well as enjoying working closely with Suzanne. Sometimes she could be so warm while at other times she was cold, snappish and demanding but I still loved it and began to work long hours just so I could keep up with her.
One Thursday evening Suzanne, Nancy and I sat at Suzanne's conference table as Suzanne made her decision on the photographs Nancy had submitted for this month's cover story. The models were in the clothes from a well-known Knightsbridge designer and Nancy had posed them in strange belts and handcuffs to illustrate the article called 'Slave to Fashion'.
Suzanne leaned back. "They're all good, Nancy but I'm afraid I don't see a cover shot there."
"What about that one?" Nancy said tapping one picture while exhaling smoke from her cigarette.
Suzanne shook her head. "I want something arresting, a shot people will talk about and will get people to buy our magazine. We do need the circulation figures to increase." We sat in silence for a moment, all three of us staring at the photographs spread across the table.
"Any ideas?" Nancy asked. "Anything in mind?"
Suzanne stared out the window at the lights of London . "I see a young woman's face, eyes wide open, gagged and hands bound in front of her. A close up."
Nancy nodded. "I can see it but we need this tonight. What model owes you a favour?"
Suzanne smiled coldly and I shuddered inside as her eyes swept over me. "Why not Marianne?"
Nancy inspected me. "Suppose she'd do, and she has nice eyes. I've got some props downstairs so we could do it now."
"Excellent," Suzanne said, "then let's do it."
Wait a minute, I wanted to scream, no one has asked me! Don't I get a say in this? I sat nervously waiting for Nancy to return while Suzanne smiled strangely at me, her long fingernails tapping on the table. Suddenly, she stood next to me and tilted my face up and I blushed as she examined my face.
"I'll do your eyes," she said matter of factly, opening a cosmetic bag and started applying eye shadow.
She had finished when Nancy returned carrying her digital camera, portable lights and a bag. "Hey," she said, noticing my eyes, "that looks absolutely fantastic.
"I used to be a stylist remember," Suzanne said while she applied lip-gloss to my lips. For some reason I was trembling slightly as Suzanne's warm body pressed against mine.
"Here," Nancy said as she handed some leather straps to Suzanne.
"Hands," Suzanne said, looking me directly in the eyes and I held my hands out to her so she could quickly buckle the restricting straps around my wrists. "Try to move," Suzanne said softly and I did but my hands were tightly bound. "Good, now open wide." I felt strange as Suzanne inserted a white plastic ball in my mouth and buckled the straps behind my head, carefully pulling my hair over it and arranging it.
A delicious feeling swept of me as I realised I was not in control, that these two women could do anything they liked to me. "Hold your hands in front of your chin," Nancy directed as the camera towards me. "Shit! Her shoulders are in the shot so her blouse is showing!"
"I'll undo it," Suzanne said, standing in front of me and casually undoing the buttons to my white blouse while gazing steadily into my eyes. She smiled as she opened it to reveal my large breasts cradled in a simple white cotton bra. "Poor choice in lingerie," she said and I blushed, "an ugly bra, darling. We are supposed to be a fashion magazine." Her cool fingers casually grazed over my breasts and, my whole body trembling, I knew my panties were soaked.
Suzanne peeled the blouse down from my shoulders and rolled the sleeves up so my bra was completely exposed to the two women. "I can still see the bra straps," Nancy said, the camera held to her face.
Suzanne mockingly smiled at me as her fingers slid the bra straps down; her fingers cool against my burning flesh. "That's better, she looks naked now," Nancy called and the camera flashed.
Both women stared at the camera screen critically, leaving me standing, gagged and hands bound in front of me with my heaving breasts exposed in my bra. "The red lips look fantastic against the white gag," commented Nancy and Suzanne nodded. "I could superimpose a lipstick mark on the gag and that's where we could put the title of the article."
"Let's see," Suzanne said, standing in front of me as she applied lipstick to her lips. Her perfume washed over me and my knees were weak as she gently kissed the ball gag, her lips so close to mine that a little groan formed in the back of my throat. "There," She said to Nancy , "what do you think?"
"Perfect. Try to make your eyes wider," she said to me, "and look frightened." The camera flashed again and both women examined the screen. "That's great," Nancy said, gathering her things. "I'll go downstairs and do the art." Without a backward glance she left and Suzanne smiled at me coldly as she walked around me, inspecting me and I trembled under her gaze.
"Have you ever wanted to own someone, own them completely?" she said softly as she circled me. "I do," her soft voice burned in my ears. "Of course, the person must want to be owned, to be loved completely and to give up control. I believe that's you, isn't it?" her breath brushed my ear as she whispered and I moaned behind the gag.
"It's a delicious feeling isn't it?" she mocked. "To give up all control to your owner." She studied my heaving breasts. "So plump and creamy, they would look so much better in black, don't you think?" I tried to tear my eyes away but she held my jaw and turned my face to hers. "Such a slut," she mocked. "Your nipples are like little pencils and I know if I lifted that skirt of yours you would be soaked, your pussy is leaking like a river, isn't it, slut?"
I tried to turn my burning face away but she held my chin firmly. "I'm not going to lift your skirt, slut," she whispered, "because I know what I'll find, boring panties under pantyhose and sodden with your juices. Nod if that's correct, slut." Her steely eyes held mind and, trembling as I fell deeply into her eyes, I nodded.
Scornfully, she released my chin, stepped back and perched against the table, arms folded. "Thought so. Darling, panties under pantyhose is so provincial," she laughed coldly and moved forward to unbuckle the gag. I opened and shut my mouth to remove the stiffness as she released my wrists.
I fumbled with the buttons of my blouse, head down, hoping the floor would swallow me up. "Go home, Marianne," Suzanne said softly. "Thank you for your help tonight. I think the cover will be excellent." I felt her eyes on me as I struggled into my blue raincoat and almost ran out of the office.
A taxi took me straight to Lenny's where I almost attacked him, kissing him passionately until he responded by slipping his hand up my skirt and I imagined it was Suzanne. Moments later, I was moaning and groaning as Lenny fucked me, his cock sliding in and out of my wet pussy until he shuddered and came, leaving me completely unsatisfied.
Sullenly, I watched him go to the bathroom to get rid of the condom, then he wandered to past me on his way to the television. The sound of motorbikes racing soon filled the flat while I wondered if I could masturbate without him noticing.
Instead, I slowly dressed and walked past him as he lay on the sofa watching some bike race. "Not staying, love?" he asked absently, eyes glued to the bikes going around and around some circuit.
"No," I said as I opened the door.
"I'm off with the lads tomorrow. See you on Monday." I stalked away; sure he would gloatingly tell his friends how he had given me a quick poke before his trip.
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