MODEL FOR HIRE

MODEL FOR HIRE

Prelude

       Young, better then good looking, much better, tired of being made to abide by the rules that applies with any normal family, wanting to be on her own, she decides just weeks before her eighteenth birthday to leave home again, with no serious concerns of the consequences.  Streetwise to a degree, finding her way to Florida, hooked up with some friends of friends, she’s been shacking up at one of their apartments for awhile.  Lying back after spending a day at the beach, flicking through the channels of a cable TV, she gets caught up on one of the reality shows involving a modeling agency.  Already in South Florida and working just a few hours a week at a convenience store for some extra cash for the bare necessities, she decides to spend some spare time hitting a few of the agencies in the South Beach area.

       Early rejection, being politely turned down, not because of her looks, but height and experience more then anything else, leaving what seems like her forth or fifth agency on the same day; as she’s leaving she’s met by another attractive girl outside an agency.  Given a card, an add for another agency just a few miles inland, after a brief discussion she drops it in her purse, heads for the beach to spend the rest of the day.  Forgetting about the card for a couple days, watching some more cable, flicking on the reality show she remembers the card, gives it another glance.  Calling the number, a few quick questions, she sets up an appointment for the next day.  A day that will change her life.

CHAPTER ONE

       Glancing at the building in the not so refined location, obviously a low rent district, glancing back at the card, she takes the three steps fronting the door, enters what appears to be a sort of makeshift reception room compared to the other agencies of a few days before.  No one at the lone desk with the single fake plant in a plastic pot next to it, wondering if she’s at the right address while glancing down at a few magazines on a wooden tray sandwiched between a pair of cheap looking chairs, the only other furniture, she hears a voice suddenly behind her.

       “Can we help you?”

       Turning, a thirty-something woman approaching her from another door, kind of attractive, yet too much Florida sun probably having taken its toll on her looks, Jodi holds out the card out, answers.  “Ye… Yes I have an appointment for ten… Ten o’clock.

       “Really?”  She answers as she steps behind the desk, shuffles through a couple papers across the desk calendar.  “Jodi?... You must be Jodi Lynn then.”

       “Yes… That’s me… I was given this card a few days ago while I was at some other agency… And I……”

       “And you were turned down… And you were told of us… And you were given that card.”  The woman cuts in, a rambling statement, not a question.

       Nodding her head, a fake smile, Jodi adds.  “Yeh… Too short… Believe that?”

       “What are you hon?... Five…Four?... Five…Five?”  The woman asks out of curiosity as she glances her up and down from across the desk.

       “Yea… They all said they’re only interested in tall… Taller girls.”  Jodi replies with a slight nod.

       “Okay… That’s pretty much the way it is… But… We’re a little different then most… Jodi… It is Jodi?”

       Shaking her head as the woman’s sitting, appearing to be jotting something on the calendar, she answers.  “Yes… Yes it’s Jodi… With an ‘I’.

       Glancing up, returning the fake smile, the receptionist smirks.  “Jodi with an ‘I’… Okay.”  Dropping her pencil, folding her hands on the desk, she looks Jodi straight in the eyes.  “Well Jodi… With an ‘I’… What we’re looking for are young, sexy girls… Girls who can model what we specialize in… Look hot doing it.”

       “Okay… That’s me!”  Jodi nods, arches her back, her halter conforming to her surprisingly large breasts as she spreads her hands apart beside her hips.  Running the tip of her tongue across her upper lip she waits for the woman to continue.  “And?”

       “Well… A couple things.”  The woman smiles, appreciating Jodi’s confidence, even her hint of arrogance… “A line of really sexy lingerie for one thing.”

       Nodding, again waiting a few moments, a quick shake of the head, Jodi again nods.  “Okay… Lingerie?... That’s not a problem… I look good in stuff like that… And the other?”

       “Well… Let’s just say the other line is a little more specialized… It actually pays a little better… A lot better actually… And in the right cases not only be financially much more profitable… But something a girl with the right assets can begin almost immediately… Without much training.”

       A slight smile, a quick head shake back and forth, Jodi raises her palm straight outward as she speaks.  “I’m not a prostitute!... If tha…”

       “Hey… Hey!”  The woman again butts in.  “That’s not what I’m suggesting Jodi!... We don’t do that here!”  Standing, shaking her head with a smile, she continues.  “What I’m suggesting might not fit what you want to do either… But just a quick look at you and if you look anything like I think you do under that halter and Daisy Dukes… Well… You might be just who we’re looking for to team up with another girl who’s done quite well for herself with us.”

       “Okay.”  Jodi nods.  “Let’s hear it then… What?”

       “Fetish.”

       “Fetish?... Fetish what?”  Jodi asks while rising her hands palms up, just staring at the woman while slowly shaking her head from side to side.  “Fetish?”

       “Fetish!”  The woman replies.  “Pays a thousand dollars a night… A cash thousand on the spot… And if you’re really willing to get into it…  Up to twenty-five hundred for a show!... Imagine… A single show!... One night!”

       Taking a moment to register, hearing the amount of money, knowing there has to be a catch, Jodi tries to think of what to say, ask next.  “Okay… What’s the catch?... Naked… What?

       “You’re interested now… Huh?”  The woman grins as she again begins to scan Jodi up and down.  “You’ve obviously got the body for it under those clothes I’d say!... You’re going to have to be looking pretty good for that though!... Raise your halter for me… Just for a moment.”

       “Wait… I asked… Semi-nude?... Naked… Whips and chains?... What?”  Jodi again asks as she reflexively slides her arms in front of her chest.  “What’s the deal… Why my halter off?... I’m right… Huh?””

       “Obviously… For that kind of money… Does it matter to you that much?… The more you show… The more you can make…. But then again… It’s mainly fetish wear… At least to start with… And Yes… A few props involved too… Whips and chains, leather, all just props… That’s where the real money’s to be made!”  The woman answers in annoying, broken sentences while nodding.  “Why you covering up?… You can’t be shy if you want to be a model… And… A couple grand for a few hours… Where else can you make that kind of dough?... If you’ve got the body… And the nerve…  Or should I say self assurance… Willing to try things… Well… Like I said… You could be making that kind of money a couple times a week!... So what’s a little skin in front of strangers?... Now… You want to model… Slip that halter up over your head!”

       “Naked… Huh?... Just props!... I don’t know!”  Jodi barely smiles, more of a smirk as she hesitates, her arms crossed, hands spreading along the sides of her breasts, but holding still.

       “Like I said… Might not be for you.”  The woman nods, sits back at her desk, pencil in hand begins circling a big ‘O’ on the calendar.  “Thanks for stopping in!”

       Another hesitation, glancing toward the calendar, the scribbling pencil, thinking of the money being discussed, Jodi stutters.  “Wait… Wait… I… I… I didn’t say I wasn’t interested… Wait!”  Raising her arms, her hands gripping the sides of the halter she slips it up over her chest stretching her spreading breasts up beneath her chin. Tugging, pulling the halter up past her head, she exposes her youthful but already globular breasts, firm, tanned as they sway, barely bouncing, braless.

       Glancing up, holding the pencil still, she again stares Jodi up and down with obvious approval as she’s surprised, expecting a bra had to be holding those jugs up in the halter.  “Tell you what Jodi with an ‘I’, let’s get something straight… You want a job… A job making good bucks… Then I don’t need to bullshit you.”  Dropping the pencil, still staring at Jodie’s thrust out chest, she continues.  Tomorrow night we need a big tittied girl like you for a show… It’s a two girl event.”  Crossing her hands, leaning forward while still staring at the thick nipples centered on the dark oval areolas high on Jodi’s firm breasts she continues in an obviously impressed tone.  “One of the girls has become indisposed…. Bad for her… Good for you… If… And that’s a big if… If you’re willing to do exactly as you’re told… To follow instructions… To wear what you’re told to wear… Show that God given rack to die for…”

       “Wait.”  Jodi nods.  “Tomorrow ni…”

       “Damn-it Jodi!... Let me finish!”  She scolds, continuing as she nods toward the door she came out of.  “First the agent’s going to have to see you in the back there shortly… Make sure you’re what he wants.”  Obviously staring toward Jodi’s still exposed breasts while quickly pointing, she continues.  “Just looking at those now… I’m sure they’ll get you the job if you want it… And yes… He’s also going to want to see you bare ass naked!... Now if that’s a problem, then I’m busy and need to make a couple quick calls to get someone else for a replacement who wants to make a grand or two tomorrow night for a few hours of showing her tits… And they certainly ain’t as good as yours!”

       Listening, almost feeling scolded yet flattered as she lowers her top, drags the halter back down across her flattening melons, Jodi barely nods as she mutters.  “A grand… Or more?... A thousand dollars…  And I can make that… Tomorrow?”

       That’s what I said… Didn’t I?”  She answers in a more pleasant tone, nodding her head.  “Now if you’re really interested… Go back there and strip… There’s plenty of hangers in the closet… Remember… If he likes you… And you’re willing to learn on the fly… Flashing a little skin and you’ll realize just how much your life can change overnight with us!”

       Thinking of the money, the opportunity, what the Hell, it’s not like no one’s ever seen her naked before, damn, she’s even won a couple wet t-shirt contests almost as a joke, a dare.  “Okay… Okay… I’ll do it!”

       “Okay then… Get your butt back there and show ‘em what you’ve got going on!... Put on a show and make him want you!”  The woman jokes as she grins, again nodding at the door, looking down at the circle she just scratched around Jodi’s name, the quick note (young/ hot perfect for naked/torture) already scribbled below it.  Again glancing at Jodi stepping toward the door, the grin fading, she adds.  “Don’t worry… As soon as he sees you he’ll know exactly what to do with you!”

       The room small, basically empty but at least clean, Jodi strips off her halter, her Levi shorts, drops them on a chair in the corner.  Slipping her shoes off, dropping them next to the chair, she slips out of her thong panties and also drops them in the mounting pile on the chair.  Flipping her hair back, twisting it in a bun, straightening the pin behind her head, she glances at the full length mirror on the back of the closed door.  Glancing around the room, playfully twisting, turning, she cups her breasts, shoves her butt back as she holds a quick classic pose like she’s seen in a Playboy magazine before.  Giving the mirror a quick scan, a silly wink, she smiles as she straightens up, pleased with her tanned naked body, feeling she looks every bit as good as any of those girls in those magazines, and, the money she can make with it sure doesn’t hurt either.

       “Jodi… Lynn?”

       Turning, reflexively covering her breasts, she stares straight at the man in the open doorway as she lowers her eyes, mutters.  “Sor… Sorry… I didn’t hear the door opening.”

       “Oh… that’s fine.”  He smiles, already getting his full view of her.  “Go ahead… Raise your arms above your head and turn around… Let’s see another pose as good as that first one.”

       Blushing, slowly raising her arms, she turns half a turn, stops.  Facing away from him, thinking how gorgeous he is, dark, tall and handsome, he could be a model himself, she hides her grin as she somehow feels excited more then embarrassed.  His tone of voice obviously pleased, she feels kind of proud; after all, these people have seen who knows how many naked bodies before.  Sucking in her tummy, letting her butt jaunt back a tad, she arches her shoulders, lets her rack, as the woman called them, stand up and spread apart.  Glancing down, her back still toward him, she can see her nipples hardening, her areolas shriveling 

       “Keep going… Let’s see it all.”  He states in a matter of fact tone as he sees the side view of her as she again turns a little further, her body posed in a serpentine stance.  “What are they?… Thirty fours… Sixes… And I’m guessing at least a big C… Maybe even a D cup?”

       Hearing his tone, the level of his voice almost quiet, professional, yet obviously impressed, she completes her turn, glances down at her swaying breasts, the nipples now rock hard as they jiggle.  “You mean these?... My breasts?... Yeh… Yes the last bra I bought just the other day was a thirty four D.”  Grinning sheepishly, void of almost all embarrassment, actually feeling kind of sexy, almost raunchy from the talk with the woman out front and now being caught in a naked pose by this handsome stranger, she lowers her hands, cups her breasts as she adds.  “My last bras were C cups… But they started pinching me… My… You know… My… My boobies…. Th… They’re still kind of … Of growing… Getting kind’a heavy too!”  Gently squeezing, another sheepish, tantalizing grin, lowering her eyes, thinking of the money, and actually like the woman said, what’s showing a little skin going to hurt in front of strangers anyway?”

       “Okay Jodi.”  He again softly speaks as he steps toward her, reaches out.  Let’s see… Hands up again… Above your head… And just hold still for a moment.”  Palming her left breast as she raises her arms, locks her hands together as she clenches her fingers, he switches to her right, nods.  “They’re real!... Damn!… I’d have bet you’d had a boob job… Still growing huh?”  Squeezing, playfully bouncing one, then the other, he glances straight into her eyes.  “Damn… they are heavy.”  Again smiling at her he adds.  “Don’t worry… Just checking how firm they are… How we can use them.”  Again palming both breasts at the same time, tweaking both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, he stretches, rotates the thick nubs as he again looks her straight in the eyes.  “Perfect… Absolutely perfect for what we’re looking for Jodi!”

           From excited, to now somewhat confused, actually uncomfortable with the way he’s playing with her breasts, feeling she might have gone to far with her act, she still stands motionless, wanting him to stop, yet feeling her nipples remaining as hard as rocks in his twisting fingers also confusing to her.  Slowly lowering her hands, sliding them across the back of his, another sheepish smile across her now blushing face and she mutters.  “That… That kind’a hurts… It’s kind’a embarrassing too!... Sorry!”

       “Oh… Okay…. I’m sorry too.”  Releasing his fingers, smiling back, he steps toward her side, slides his hand across her left butt cheek.  “This stuff doesn’t mean anything… Actually it’s like an everyday thing to me… Don’t let it embarrass you, I’m just getting a feel for what your body can handle from our fetish line… Okay?... Like clover clamps… Nipple jewelry… Augmentations.”

       “Okay… Okay, go ahead!”  She almost moans, feeling his hand sliding down across her butt cheeks, tracing lower between the slit between her legs as she continues to remain still.  Soaking in what he just said in his soothing, calm voice, she’s unsure what he meant, augmentations?  Tingling inside, her stomach stirring, she nibbles across her lower lip as her nipples continue to reflexively pucker, jiggling on her swaying breasts.  Closing her eyes, she accepts his feeling her up, to let his finger slip across her cunt lips as the embarrassment is also actually a little stimulating, just like her nipples, even as she fibbed to him about them hurting.

       “We need to check between here too, Jodi.”  He almost whispers as he leans his face closer to her ear.  “To feel these folds… These lips… To makes sure they can hold some of our fetish implements… Even this.”

       Biting down across her lip as her hips jerk, glancing away from him as she feels his fingers pinching the nub of her clit and giving it a gentle tug, her voice changes a couple decibels, her body reflexively twitching.  “Oh… Okay… That… That enough?”  She stutters in confusement as she turns toward him, cups her breasts, slips her other hand across her responding clit and presses firmly in with her fingers as she brushes his hand away.  “What… What do you mean?”

       “I think I know just what to do with you… And it’s all going to start tomorrow at noon.”  He smiles as he slides his hand away, knowing how she was responding to his touches, knowing that her body was going to be a money pit for him for a long time to come.  “You’re now part of the company!... Relax… Be happy… Celebrate tonight!”

       “Really!”  She somehow finds herself smiling.  “I start tomorrow?”

        “Yes… A fetish show right off the bat!”  He smiles, notices the instant concern on her face.  “Hey… don’t worry… You’re just going to be for show… The other girl’s going to be doing all the work.”

       Arms still awkwardly covering her nudity, a curious look on her face, she stands silent, not sure what to say next.

       “Listen Jodi.”  He continues.  “Tomorrow at noon, we leave for the club… Just a few hours from here…. We’ve got a limo and a first class motel booked just a couple blocks from the show and we’ll rehearse for a couple hours when the other girl shows up…  We’ll get you accustomed to the outfits… Then later that night it’s time for the show.”  Again smiling, patting her shoulder, he adds.  “Don’t worry… You’ll be the star of the show… I promise… It’s going to change your life!... Now go out there and give her all your information and sign the forms… I promise… No… I guarantee… It’ll change your life… Forever!... Trust me… You’ll agree after tomorrow night!”

CHAPTER TWO

       Posing in a brilliant white terrycloth robe on the makeshift podium, arms down to her sides, her hands remain turned palms forward.  Fingers nervously twitching, her feet spread on the floor about shoulder width apart in four inch white patent-leather stiletto heels, she can feel the vibration of the makeshift wooden podium beneath her.  Just passing her eighteenth birthday, she feels it now, the concern real, not so carefree kid stuff, actually ominous.  Having been getting into adult clubs for the past couple years on her looks, she’s never been in one anything like this place.  It’s certainly not like the one’s with the wet t-shirt contests.

       The room dimmed in shadows around her, the walls heavily curtained, the atmosphere reeks of cigarette smoke, liquor, and mixed with the musty hardly ever cleaned iron trusses partially covered with aging asbestos supporting the corrugated metal roof just a few feet above her head, the room’s stifling.  A lone temporary hanging light shinning down from a rafter just above the stage starkly illuminates the aged brick wall behind her as the accumulating early patrons find the few seats; the rest standing against the other walls, the punkish music slowly de-escalating in the background.

       Staring straight ahead, waiting for the ‘fetish’ theme exhibition to begin, she feels the dampness on her palms, under her arms as her nervous doubts linger in her mind.  Thinking of how she was just recruited yesterday by the so called modeling agency, this being her initial gig her nervousness is far from more then just first time jitters, especially with the other girl still a no-show, where the Hell is she anyway?  Having entered the building through its side entrance in the dark alley to the back of the stage, now having seen the shadowy outlines of the patrons, the heavily BDSM theme of the club on the inside, she feels the pit of her stomach churning, her heart beating just a little more rapidly as she finds herself wearing the other girl’s outfits, ominously told she had to take her place.  Even more, she wonders how she can be paid the kind of money promised from a place like this, this hole in the wall.

       The music off, an eerie quite filtering across the room, just the occasional whisper, cough from the shadows of the collecting crowd and she senses being approached from her left.  Given a brief but intense run through for the assignment at the motel room earlier in the afternoon by her ‘handler’ she was introduced to by the agent, she remains rigid, stoic as she takes a deep breath, her heart pounding.  Finally time, the exhibition’s beginning, but now with her being the lone female performer.  The podium flexing as her hooded, bare-chested handler steps up, the stark plywood sags, springs under her spiked heels.  His hand spreading across her left shoulder followed by one across her right surrounds her strictly slicked back hair affixed behind her head in a tight bun.  Remaining in her fixed pose, she unexpectedly senses another person approaching from her other side, also bare-chested and hooded for the bondage theme.  Stepping onto the platform, it again flexes under her feet.

       Staring straight ahead, nervously nibbling on her lower lip as she feels the robe’s tie being unwrapped, she feels the white terrycloth being slipped down off her shoulders.  Only her handler having rehearsed with her with the other girl not showing up, this second person wasn’t mentioned, but even as she’s apprehensive she still keeps to her script, remains rigid, preys for the best.  The sleeves sliding back off her arms she feels the mugginess of the damp room across her bare flesh not covered by the white leather micro-thong bikini, especially the nearly perfect symmetrical mounds of her proud breasts.

       Hearing the noticeable murmur rippling through the shadowed group, her tanned body contrasts with the almost brilliant white of what shinning leather there is covering just the minimum of her nearly nude body.  Taking a deep breath before staring out into the darkness of the far wall, she glances down toward her firm breasts drawing their attention, jaunting naturally upwards and outwards, the overflowing mounds heaving with each nervous breath.  The hem of the bikini meant for the other girl too small, barely covering her oval shaped areolas; she can make out the nubs of her hard nipples silhouetted through the stretching leather.  Feeling her restricted breasts pressing against the tight leather, catching the glimpses of light reflecting off the rounded upper curves of her shimmering melons, she hears the murmurs escalating, mixing with a couple of off color catcalls.  Raising her eyes to stare straight ahead, she watches as the shadowy room seems to be filling a little more from the couple of curtained entrances of the other parts of the building.

       The exhibition continuing, her left hand’s gripped, tugged behind her back as she feels the leather cuff being slipped around and adjusted before secured tightly around her wrist.  Right hand gripped next, again tugged behind her back, she feels that matching cuff adjusted, clamped shut just as in rehearsal.  Her hands being pressed together, her shoulders arch back, her breasts thrusting outward pressing against, stretching the taut leather flattening across her chest.  Struggling to keep her balance as the wooden platform sways beneath her, her ankles slip closer together as her spiked heels click across the bare plywood.  The sudden harshness of her handlers, the tightness of her bondage surprises her; at the motel room it seemed so much gentler.

       Staring out into the darkness, taking her handler’s advice doing their rehearsal by fixating on the far wall, picking out a focal point, here a flickering neon beer sign, she tries to ignore the mounting comments, whistles as her nearly naked body contorts above the growing crowd.  Feeling leather straps slipping up across her shoulders, her hands, arms being slipped into a supple black leather casing, she senses the bottom of the bondage garment tightening around her fingers, hands, again much harsher, even a little painful.

       Both men still behind her, one holding her arms, the other adjusting the straps, tightening the sleeve upward behind her back, each tug, each tightening strap forces her arms closer together, her shoulders to continuously draw backwards, slowly arch behind her neck.  Up her forearms to her elbows, the straps tighten.  Crossing up over her elbows, forcing them to press together, she feels her shoulders begin to burn from the forced pain, senses the slightest creaking sound of her collarbone as she feels her feet twisting, scraping the rough wood beneath the spiked heels.  Taking deeper breaths, wanting this part of the exhibition to end, she still tries to focus into the darkness above the swelling crowd.

       Head and neck being pressed forward next; her chin’s almost forced down across her sternum as she alarmingly watches the outlines of her dark areolas lifting above the contrasting bikini’s hem.  Breasts separating, spreading across her chest as the stretching leather flattens her quivering melons, she grunts with each new binding, each painful jerk of the leather straps as she struggle to keep her nipples concealed.

       The straps becoming harder to tighten halfway past her elbows, the other man holds her shoulders from behind, presses inward as he leans against her shoulder.  “Oomph!”  Her first grunt, the first breaking of silence on her part as she’s sure her collarbone’s cracking, or at the least, her shoulder’s separating.  Turning her head, glancing nervously behind her, her grunts seem meaningless to either one.

       Another jerk, another strap tightened, she again grunts as her left nipple presses completely out above her bikini, the hem of the leather sinking into her bulging tit flesh.  The room filling as the patrons close in on the platform, humiliated, she tries to stare over them through her welling tears, toward the blurring red neon in the background, knowing the group’s ogling her bare breast, her nearly naked contortions.

       “Oomph!”   Another painful jerk, she again grunts as her arms sting, becomes momentarily numb.  Jerked around, feeling herself being lifted back, pulled upright by the bondage sleeve, she stumbles as she feels both breasts flipping out over the stretching bikini as the room becomes instantly louder.  The harsh music also being turned up, almost vibrating the walls, disturbed dust in the rafters filters down across the stage.

       The room filling, gruff patrons pressing now within just a few feet in front of the platform, most clad in what she can make out in the hazy light as leather and chains, she realizes they’re all men, some also bare-chested but all wearing some sort of leather.  The murmurs escalating to a constant buzz with the music, they’re mixed with whistles, more obscene catcalls.  Turning her head frantically toward her handler, tears welling, streaming down her cheeks, his cold, harsh expression beneath the partial hood sends chills up her spine as he holds a bright red ball gag up in his hand.  Her head tugged back, the ball-gag’s jammed across her lips from behind.  Her heart pounding in her chest, she feels a hand from behind pressing against, squeezing her cheeks, forcing the hard rubber between her teeth.  Panicking, realizing this didn’t happen in rehearsal, grunting, twisting, her grunts are stifled below the constant rowdy sounds filling the dark, almost angry sounding room.

       Biting into the gag, twisting her head, she feels the back strap of her bikini top being twisted by someone below the stage.  Jerked around across her breasts, the back roughly unsnapped from beneath the bondage sleeve, her breasts flail as she’s twisted around, catches a glimpse of the reflecting white material is it’s tossed above the heads of the collecting group in front of the platform.  Twisted around again, forced to embarrassingly face the crowd, her breasts bounce, sway beneath her chin, saliva already drooling from the ball-gag streaming off her chin, sticking to her bare flesh.

       A scuffle out on the darkened floor, a fight for the top half of her bikini, the crowd grows even louder, rowdier.  Hands reaching, groping for her bare breasts from out in front, she grunts, twists on the platform, her heels twisting, scraping across the splintered plywood surface springing beneath the weight.

       Again catching the unsympathetic look on her handler’s face, feeling her thong being jerked downward from behind by someone on the floor, ripped off her left thigh, twisted and torn away from her right knee and she horrifyingly realizes she’s completely naked, her body totally exposed to the building crowd out surrounding the front of the platform.  Another roar, more shouting, another group’s fighting for her thong, scuffling in the center of the agitated throng.

       Terrified, humiliated, she twists away, turns her back to the crowd as she tries to shield her nakedness against the back of the stage, get away from this insane ordeal.  Grabbed by her handler by her arched shoulders, twisted back around as her thrust out breasts scrape against the wall, she’s forced to face the floor, the scores of raucous men watching her every move, ogling her naked body, fighting for her clothing.

       Feeling her handler’s face press against her ear, she can barely hear him over the den of noise.  “Bear with us… Give ‘em what they want!... Follow my lead, hear me?”  Shouting into her ear, he repeats.  “I said… Hear me?… Or do you want gang-raped and torn apart by those animals out there!... Forget what you thought was going to happen tonight… They want to see you hurt!... We need to give them a show!... We have too!”

       Terrified, she watches him stepping in front of her as the other man holds her tightly from behind.  Holding his hands up the handler faces the crowd.  Watching him whistling, waving his arms while addressing the mob, stepping back and forth across the edge of the platform, bending down toward one of the bouncers by the side of the stage, yelling instructions into his ear, she’s forced to bare her nakedness, face the unruly group with her bare breasts thrust obscenely outward from her arched shoulders.

       The music cutting off, the handler still waving his arms, again whistling for the crowd to give him their attention, most of the group somewhat calms down as the rowdiness de-escalates.  Still a few obscene catcalls, some shouting back and forth, finally quiet enough for him to address them.

       “Okay!... Okay!... Okay!”  He shouts, waving his hands each time, lowering his voice just a little each time.

       Turning toward her, having the other man nudge her forward, he grips the back of the bondage sleeve with his right hand and forces her to stand on the edge of the platform.  Raising his left hand, waiting for the room to quiet down a bit more, he finally speaks.

       “Okay!... Now… Let’s get on with what you all come here for!... Let’s get ready to give this big tittied little girl here one Hell of a workout!”

          More whistles, catcalls, again he raises his hand as he lowers his head.  Waiting for the noise to again become more of a murmur, he again addresses the group.  “We brought this girl here to have her model some bondage gear for you all… While we tortured the other girl!... But Damn!… She didn’t show up!”  He continues as he nods toward her globular breasts, down toward her bare vagina.  “Now… If… And I say If… You give us a chance.”  He again scans the audience, his hand still in the air as the crowd begins to quiet down.  “We can alter the show and switch to some real S and M with this one…. And it’s her first time too… We’ll give her a Hell of a workout in front of you guys if you let us… Okay?”

       A loud approval, more catcalls, clapping, he glances down, leans toward her and away from the jeering crowd.  “Now bear with me… A little workout across those tits of yours… Some across your butt… And we can get you out of here in one piece… It’s going to hurt… A lot!... But you can leave here in one piece if you’re lucky!... Understand?”

       Wide eyed, staring back into his eyes, saliva drooling down off the ball-gag, she feels her body trembling, her breasts quivering as she grunts, shakes her head back and forth in disbelief.  Feeling her arms gripped by the other man, positioned directly on the very edge of the front of the platform, she feels the grip tighten, holding her still.

       Her handler stepping to the back of the stage picks up one of the ‘props’ similar to a leather barber’s strap.  Stepping to her left, allowing a few feet between them, he raises it toward the crowd, points toward her breasts.  Raising his free hand for silence, he waits, addresses the room.  “Now… Now… Now give me some quiet.”  He instructs as he lets the end of the wide strap flick off the edge of the podium.  “Give me some quiet so you can hear the leather across her bare flesh… Hear her responses as we work her tits for you!… Okay?”  Waiting for silence, even for the murmurs to quiet down, he positions himself, draws the thick strap back in his clenched fist. 

        Glancing toward the tip of the sinister leather being dragged across the plywood floor, glancing up toward her handler’s face, she can feel her chest thumping, her heart pounding as her glistening breasts quiver out above the edge of the platform.  Feeling her back bowed even further back as the bondage sleeve’s twisted from behind, her breasts thrust even further out as her eyes catch the strap flexing almost in slow motion through the air, curling, twisting horizontally above the heads of the crowd closest to the stage.

       Horrified, surreally watching the thick supple leather curling toward her, the shadowy room seeming even darker as the surrounding onlookers seem to fade into the darkness, the room becoming deathly silent to her, she can’t help following the snaking tanned leather as it stretches out, smacks across, sinks across her uplifted nipples quivering on her bare breasts.

       “Thwaaackk!”

       Following, watching the curling dull leather striking, disappearing into her flattening tit flesh, smashing into her bare breasts, the sound resonating, echoing across the room as her nipples stretch inward under the coarse rawhide, she seems to hesitate, almost suspended in time as the leather adheres to her naked flesh, her mind for a split second confused as to why there’s no pain.

       “Aaaaggghhhhhhh!”  Screaming into the ball gag, clamping down on it with her clenching teeth, the jolting pain suddenly rips through her breasts, her searing nipples.  Jerking, twisting, her breasts flail across her chest as the leather curls, drops away, a wide, bright red welt connecting both bruised nipples left standing out across her firm globes.

       Held upright by the bondage sleeve, her knees on the verge of buckling, the feeling’s of a red hot poker being smacked across her breasts.  Gasping for breath, tears streaking off her cheeks, she feels herself being tugged backwards, positioned under a swaying rope looped up over a beam.  The rope crisscrossed through the shoulder straps of the leather sleeve, she feels herself being lifted, hoisted upwards.  Straightening, standing on the balls of her feet in the stilettos, finally forced to tiptoe as the rope’s jerked tighter and secured, she stands facing the crowd, her pain wracked bruised breasts swaying free in front of her.

       She frantically notices the other man positioning himself to her right as he too grips a whip in his fist, not a strap, but a willowy, flexing riding crop.  Glaring back and forth from one to the other, seeing their arms curling back, her heels sliding, grinding across the floor, she closes her eyes, braces herself as the room again becomes virtually silent.

       “Smack!”  The curling strap flattens across her navel.  “Oomph!”  Bowing forward, the breath’s knocked from her stomach as spittle flicks from the red ball gag.   “Thwack!”  The springing crop flicks across the bottoms of her flailing breasts.  “Aaaggghhh!!!”  Screaming through the ball gag as the crop buries itself into her tit flesh, her punished body spinning toward her right; the flat strap quickly follows, curling downward toward her butt cheeks.  “Smack!”  Her hips flex forward again as her grunts are drowned out by the escalating noise.  “Thwack!”  Her naked body twists yet again as the crop immediately slashes downward across her contorting breasts, red welts instantly rising horizontally across her chest as her tormenters just warming up, gives her a brief moment to recoup.

       The hesitation just momentary as her glistening body shudders, twists under the stretching rope, the assault’s intensity picks up.  “Smack!... Thwack!... Smack!......... Thwack!... Thwack……… Smack!”  The background noise escalating, the echoes of the leather implements resounding across the room, her body jerks, twists, bows forward, backwards as the leather dances across her bare flesh, overwhelmingly across her thrust out breasts, the bruising nipples.  “Thwack!... Smack!... Smack!... Thwack… Smack!... Thwack!”  Another rapid set of lashings, her breasts first, then butt cheeks followed by back and forth, back and forth across her discolored tit flesh.

       Slumping forward, coughing, gagging on the glistening ball-gag, the pain pierces her chest, her perfect breasts pounding, pulsing with thin red welts, purplish flat bruises while her stomach hollows under her ribcage as she struggles to breathe.  The crowd pressing closer, shoving toward the stage, the flogging ceases, if just for a short respite.  The handler stepping toward her, handing his strap to the other man, grips her hair, jerks her head up as he leans closer, rasps in her ear.  “We’re just getting warmed up.”  Gripping a swollen breast, he adds.  “Before we’re done with these tonight… They’ll be twice their normal size!... Ready for more?... It’s going to be a long night for you!”

       Eyes glazed, swollen, she stares up into his face, her nostrils flaring with each rasping breath.  Hardly able to shake her head, her twisted body tensing, wrenched in pain, her slobbering whimpers is ignored as he glances toward the other man, retrieves his strap as he almost shouts over the crowd’s noise to him.  “Grab a leg… Tie one up over her head with another rope so we can spread her pussy, work on her cunt for awhile… Then we’ll get back to those big ‘ol titties to wrap it up!”

       Glancing back toward the far side of the stage, the door to the exit next to the alley, he sees the trio entering together past the security doorman, the agent with his secretary and the no-show girl, the same girl who passed out the card to Jodi Lynn.  Leaving the limo out in the alley, they’re just in time, the warm up’s over.  In another hour, the show will be over; their new star kept in her fetish gear will be taking a ride to her new residence with a well equipped cell.  She’ll be administered to for an even harsher exhibition in the coming weekend for a group of older wealthy and ruthless lesbians who pay well for young meat.  This little show is certainly a nice introduction to her new life, just like her new agent promised she’d have.

End Chapter 2