Confessions Of A Centerfold
by Leones
Part 1
Hi, my name is Gia, I'm 26 years old and, well I guess in all modesty the
fantasy girl of perhaps thousands of men as evidenced by my fan mail. I may even
be your fantasy girl if you happened to pick up a copy of the 1997, April
edition of Playboy. If you did, that's me in the center foldout section and
believe it or not, five years years later I'm still 5' 5", 110 lbs and my
measurements are 36DD, 23, 35, of course it doesn't take a rocket scientist to
figure out that a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon played a key role in the
development of my breasts.
My father was french, my mother was spanish and I was lucky, I inherited both of
their best features, my hair is soft, silky and coal black, my eyes are emerald
green and my skin is smooth with a deep olive hue. It may sound like I'm
bragging but hell I can't take any credit for my gene pool. I know that I'm a
hot babe, in this business you have to have a certain air of confidence in order
to be successful, even if I didn't think I was gorgeous the men around me prove
otherwise, they become blubbering idiots when I'm around, falling all over
themselves trying to get next to me, they treat me like royalty of some kind,
always worrying that they will offend me in some way or another.
Anyway, my story starts about five years ago when I ran into a photographer
while visiting a modeling agency where I sometimes pick up an extra shoot or
two. He told me that he liked my "look". which is a line I hear all the time but
he did offer me a fee substantially above scale to do an outdoors shoot for a
men's magazine, the shoot had to be be shot that afternoon, hence the top fee.
He was a pleasant sort, kind of nerdy, not the type of man that I would consider
dating. I perused the business card he handed me, it was pretty standard, his
name was John Majors and he was a freelance photographer.
"Look, he said, I know that you don't know me but time is of the essence here, I
have the type of simple wardrobe that you will need right in my truck, you won't
even need to put anything together, we can just take off now and get it over and
done with." "Wait, he said, I have an idea, Mr. Nichols, the CEO of the agency
knows me quite well, show him by business card and he will vouch for my
credibility."
I walked back to the receptionist and requested to see Mr. Nichols, assuring her
that I would only take a moment of his time. She informed me that he had just
left the office and would not return until tomorrow morning.
"You do know Mr. Nichols?" I asked John, just to satisfy my own mind.
"Yeah, we go way back, been out of touch for awhile, until today anyway, didn't
know that he left the office, the old rascal must have snuck out for a round of
golf, he loves golf, you know?"
I went back to the receptionist, pointed John out to her and asked her if he had
visited Mr. Nichols today. She nodded and told me that he had.
"I won't do any nudity John." I told him.
"Absolutely none required." He assured me.
The conversation while riding in John's truck was boring at best, John went on
about all of the fabulous places he had done shoots, while I rummaged through
his suitcase full of out door type clothing. When I visit the modeling agency I
usually dress in a manner to attract attention and today was no exception, the
purple tank top and white shorts I wore contrasted perfectly with my olive skin
coloring, the top barely reaching below my breasts, leaving my whole midriff
bare, my white, three inch pumps accentuated the shape of my legs quite nicely.
Seems to have paid off, I certainly got Mr. Major's attention and now I'm on my
way to a big fat fee for just a few hours of work.
Soon we were travelling on a pretty desolate desert road in the city of
Palmdale, John did say that it was an outdoor shoot but now that we were
actually there, it wasn't as glamorous has I had hoped for.
"We're almost there", John told me, "A friend of mine is lending me his cabin,
just up the road some."
The cabin was next to no where, John left his gear in the truck and just took a
small bag with him into the cabin, it smelled musty and appeared not to have
been used for sometime. We had no more walked through the door when John asked
me to undress, I asked him if we shouldn't bring in the wardrobe first. The tone
of his voice changed, he became a different person.
"You won't be needing the wardrobe", he told me. "In fact you won't be needing
any clothes at all, just do as your told and you may get out of this alive."
Oh my god I thought, this is a model's worst nightmare, I'm trapped in the
middle of the desert by a rapist, maybe worse, a killer. I ran for the door, not
knowing where I would go even if I made it, but I didn't, John blocked my path.
I never saw it coming, he back handed me so hard across the side of my face that
I saw stars, before I could recover from the shock he pushed me violently
against the wall, my back crashing into it with a terrible thud, the wind gushed
like a gale from my lungs and out through my gaping mouth, I slid down the wall
until I was sitting on my butt with my back resting against the wall.
I was groggy and gasping for oxygen but I could see John removing items from his
bag. I was determined to go down fighting, when he approached I mustered up
enough strength, still wearing my heels, to kick him in the crotch, it was a
glancing blow but he groaned out loud, called me a bitch and sank to his knees,
I tried to crawl and scramble around him but I had not hurt him as much as I had
hoped, he wrestled me to the floor, flat on my stomach, my lungs still depleted,
he held my wrists helplessly at the small of my back. I felt the rope being
applied to my crossed wrists, securing then together, then he did the same with
my ankles, crossing and tying them, almost at the exact moment John made the
final tightening cinch to my ankles and I realized that I was bound and
helpless, a sudden, unfamiliar feeling surged through my loins. Before I had
time to think about it, John stuffed a fowl tasting rubber ball into my mouth,
behind my teeth and buckled a strap behind my neck. John picked up my 110 lb.
frame quite easily and placed me belly down over his right shoulder. A feeling
of terror took over my mind, the tingling sensations in my loins ignored. I
feared what John might have in mind for me. Rape, murder or both?
