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?
Confessions Of A Centerfold by Leones Part 2 John threw me head first onto the bed, I landed on my back, my body bouncing up and down two or three times before finally coming to rest on the springy mattress. He rolled me onto my belly, drew my ankles up to my buttocks and tied them to my wrists. I remember how helpless I felt, maybe even mastered, I don't know, I wasn't sure of my feelings at that moment. John retrieved his equipment from the truck, as he suspected I was right where he had left me when he returned. He set his camera up on a tripod and took several pictures of me, some on my stomach and for some he positioned me on my side, moving my trussed form like I was a piece of furniture, making sure that my face was shown in most of the shots. John used a pair of scissors to cut away my tank top and bra and suddenly my 36 double d's were on display, he took several seconds, as if he was showing me who was in charge, taking liberties with my two prized possessions, kneading and molding them to his own desired shapes, then took more pictures of me, still trussed up like a turkey and now nude from the waist up, taking several shots showing just my face, gagged mouth and bare, hanging breasts. John released the tie attaching my wrists to my ankles, then untied my ankles altogether before flipping me like a rag doll onto my back, next he dragged me by the ankles until my ass was resting on the edge of the bed and my legs dangled over the side with my arms pinioned beneath my back. Almost miraculously I could still feel the white pumps still on my feet. He took hold of the waist band of my shorts, one hand on each side and ordered me to lift my ass, I did as I was told, then he pulled my shorts under my ass, down my legs and discarded them on the floor. My silk, pink thong panties were some of Victoria Secrets finest, I was sure that John was being treated to a preview of my dark, abundantly thick bush. Without hesitating he tore the single panties strap running under my crotch and quickly turned my torn panties into a loin cloth like garment, he lifted the flap of material still shielding my pussy, inserted his index finger into my now exposed slit which brought an unexpected low groan from my throat and an involuntary shudder in the lower plains of my stomach. John withdrew his finger and smeared a white, sticky substance across the half- dollar size aureola of my left breast, then returned his finger to my slit and repeated the process with my right aureola and spoke his first words in sometime. "Naughty girl." I felt terribly embarrassed by those simple two words, could feel the blush quickly invade my face, but I also kept repeating the words over and over in my head, almost longing for John to speak them again. John made me pose for the camera in several provocative positions with the remnants of my panties still in tact, then took lewd and obscene beaver shots of me without the panties. At long last he removed my gag and the first words out of my mouth were to beg for my life. "Please don't kill me, I don't want to die." He pulled me off the bed by my hair wearing nothing but white pumps and forced me to my knees in front of him. "I told you that if you did as your told you may just get out of this alive." he blurted at me. He left me kneeling, hands tied behind my back while he undressed and activated the mechanism on his camera. When he returned, he stood in front of me, his half inflated penis but inches from my mouth, a mouth I suspected would soon be sucking cock. He spoke, his voice low but menacing. "Tell me what your going to do for me." A spasm rocketed through my shoulders, my breasts gyrating out of control but I never hesitated with my answer. "I'm going to suck your prick." "Bingo." he chimed out and moved his tool even closer to my mouth, but that's all the help he offered, I rose up slightly, still on my knees and took his manhood into my mouth, without the aid of my hands I took a couple of inches at once so as not to allow it to spring from the confines of my mouth. I could hear the camera clicking periodically as I moved my lips up and down it's length, careful not to lose control of it. I could feel it bloating and squirming inside my mouth in response to the steady massaging and friction coming from my lips and tongue. John's groin began to quiver with tiny, quick tremors and his breathing became jerky and uneven, then he withdrew his loaded penis with a loud gasp and liberally sprayed my surprised face with his seed, the steady spurts coming one after another in rapid succession into my eyes, into nostrils and on my chin. John guided me onto the floor, on my stomach, then pilled my ankles to either side of a bed leg and tied them together, he left me anchored there on the floor, my face coated with his cum while he showered and cleaned up. While I lay there, I tried to sort out the confusion in my brain, the mixed signals and tricks my mind and body were playing on me. As ridiculous as it sounded to me, I knew that I had actually felt a pleasurable emotion in the pit of my stomach when I anticipated swallowing my kidnappers come, then he gave me the full facial instead and that sent new and even more intense yearnings racing through my cunt. I didn't want to really face it but it finally came through to me, the question of my over powering lustful stirrings weren't based on whether I wanted to swallow his cum or to have him spray my face with it, that was inconsequential, the instinctive arousal purging through my body was based entirely on my being unable to prevent it, John lackered my face with his sticky goo because that's what he chose to do,without any regards for my feelings whatsoever and totally without my consent. I thought about what an intense sexual high it must have been for John to have a naked and bound centerfold model at his mercy, to drench her face with his semen, then I wondered if he would attain the apex of his sexual satisfaction when he fucks the centerfold model or when he murders her. I moaned softly and ground my pussy into the shag carpet, trying vainly to release my own pent up juices.
Confessions Of A Centerfold
by Leones
Part 3
Still naked except for the white pumps, John tied me spreadeagled to the bed, on
my back, limbs spread wide, a ballgag in my mouth and a leather blindfold across
my eyes. I felt helpless and vulnerable and wondered if this would be my last
day on earth. John straddled my stomach and fondled my store bought breasts
while speaking to me in a soft monotone whisper.
"How many guys do you think would give an arm or a leg to trade places with me
right now?" Which one were you Gia, Ms. April?"
Of course I couldn't answer any of his questions with my mouth full of rubber
ball. He began to wrap something very tight around the base of my tits, my god
it felt like wire, when he was through with them they felt like they were
bloated and ready to burst, I wondered if he had damaged my implants. John got
off of my stomach and shortly thereafter the camera began clicking, obviously he
was delighted with his handiwork on my hooters.
There was total silence for awhile, I could imagine that he was regarding the
beautiful vision that I presented to him. Then it dawned on me once again that I
am just not getting it, I'm not presenting a vision to him, it's John's
creation, not mine, he tricked me, captured me and has done what he will with
me, I'm spread and helpless because that is the way he want's me. Suddenly my
hormones were rampaging again, my own thoughts and vivid images of how I must
look, bound, gagged, and naked had started my juices flowing out of control, my
cunt suddenly felt insatiable, willing to accept any and all objects of any
size. Then I calmed down some, I knew that I was going to be fucked, had known
it since John had tied my wrists together the first time, I couldn't believe it,
I was looking forward to being raped, no, I needed to be raped. John lifted my
ass and placed two pillows beneath me. I knew that my pussy was now raised into
position and made available for John's use. Yeah, I got it this time, my cunt
has been made available to John because that's the way he wants it. In my
darkness I could only lay there and wait, I had no control over any of it, it
was up to John to decide when and how I would be fucked, he can take me with
long sweeping thrusts, short quick strokes, or he can just play with me like a
toy, I can't tell him what feels good to me or what I enjoy because my
gratification means absolutely nothing to him.
I was nearly frenzied with lust when John positioned himself between my splayed
thighs. He spoke to me in that same monotone whisper but it rang with a certain
smugness now, he had let me stew in my own juices, so to speak.
"Do you want to feel my meat in your sweet pussy, baby?"
I couldn't believe it but I mumbled into my gag trying to tell him that I did,
but he kept toying with me, talking to me.
"I can't understand you honey, if you want to feel it, your going to have to
invite me in with your hairy pussy."
He was playing me like a fine guitar, my pent up lust was boiling and screaming
so badly for release that there was no way I could control myself. How pathetic
it was, no, not degrading, degradation meant nothing to me at this moment, it
was just pathetic, the beautiful centerfold model craving uncontrollably for her
kidnapper to fuck her, I don't know if I would have even called it rape at that
precise moment, I did thrust my hairy cunt forward the best I could, sending a
loud and clear invitation for John to have me, to take me anyway he wants but
just put it in me. I moaned a sigh of relief when he finally put it to me, I
could feel it's stiffness as it pushed it's way through the spongy entrance to
my once private and personal feminine region, as was John's style he established
clear ownership of my love nook, forcing it to accommodate the full length of
his manhood on his first plunge, he held fast for several seconds, sending me
the message, then he did a number on me, John proved a real cocksman to be
sure, he made a fool of me, his prick never losing contact with my swollen clit,
he had me struggling and pulling against my bonds like a madwoman, throwing my
head in wild abandon, spraying the room with my spittle like a fine mist. He
timed it perfect, when we came, we came as one, an orgasmic team exploding
simultaneously, our juices running wild and flooding my cavern with a mixture of
both our seed.
Without saying a word John went for his usual shower, leaving me as I was, tied,
mute and blind, my nostrils making shrill whistling noises trying desperately to
pass oxygen through their narrow passage ways and into my lungs. I could feel
the residue from my over flooded cunt dribbling profusely down the insides of my
thighs. When John returned he gave me a humiliating douche job, using a wash
rag, soap and water and a long thin brush, it wasn't pleasant, he inserted the
full length of the brush into my sensitive sheath and the bastard gave me a real
scrubbing, then used the opportunity to taunt me.
"Not quite as enjoyable as my prick, now is it?"
....................................................
Confessions Of A Centerfold
by Leones
Part 4
When John finished with me he had my channel, or maybe I should say his channel
spic and span clean, this made me think his intention was to use me again, to
fuck me, if you will and didn't want to dip his wick into a messy hole. I was
also thinking about my future, if I had one or not, John and I both knew that I
could easily identify him and that didn't bode well in my favor.
John removed my gag and blindfold and the first thing I did was beg for my life,
told him that I didn't want to die, I would have offered him my body, but then
he already had it. I had nothing to bargain with, the only assets I had in the
world were my face and my body, they had always worked for me in the past and
now they meant nothing, had no value at all, My body couldn't have had any less
influence if I had been a fat, over the hill street walker begging for her life,
John was the one in power and ultimately it would be his decision as to whether
I would live or die. His decision at the moment however was to squeeze my wired
up tits and I screamed long and hard for him because that's what he wanted me to
do, the wire at their base had cut into the tender flesh of my surgical scars,
blood trickled down, splotching both sides of my rib cage, my once prized
possessions now a sickening, bluish color. John fiendishly toyed with me, being
just about able to play a tune with my groans by using strategically spaced
squeezes to my tortured titties.
Finally he became bored with the game, something I had never imagined possible,
a man becoming bored with my hooters. I felt uneasy as John began to mull
around, he placed his tripod right near the bed, quite clearly the lens pointed
at my face. I begged for my life again as he wrapped a cord around my throat, my
words turning to silent mouthing when the cord tightened, biting viciously into
my flesh, I heard the click of the camera recording my death just as John let
the cord go lax but leaving it in place around my throat, I tried to speak, to
beg for mercy but my voice was gone.
For the second time John tightened the cord, I was helpless, unable to move,
with cold and uncaring eyes, John stared into mine as he deprived me of life
needed oxygen, I saw flashing lights, was near blacking out when John again
loosened the cord. My faced tingled as if asleep as much needed blood rushed to
my brain, I felt something enter my slit, at least I thought I did, then John's
finger was inside my mouth wiping a sticky substance on my tongue, John repeated
this several times, force feeding me an abundant amount of my own orgasm
produced cum.
When John tightened the cord this time I was fully resigned to the fact that I
was going to die, in fact I was near death when I heard someone shout.
"Hey, get the hell away from that girl."
Shortly thereafter I heard a loud popping noise, seems that the old prospector
who owns the cabin came by for an inspection, when he saw the truck out front he
came in armed with his trusty rifle, Old Betsy, John made one too many decisions
and charged the old man who then shot and killed him.
It was difficult, I tried putting my life back in order. John had done severe
damage to my tits, the surgeons having a field day with them, opening and
reopening them, they just couldn't get them right though, It hurt me that my
pride and joys were no longer perfect, I was self conscious about them and
avoided shoots that required much cleavage which did adversely affect my
marketability. Of course I was still gorgeous and men flocked to me like moths
to a candle, I was being catered to and treated like a queen once again, but
life was not good, for one thing I had not enjoyed or even had an orgasm since
the day John was killed. A close friend suggested that I see a psychiatrist
which I thought not to be a bad idea, what could it hurt? Through some reliable
referrals, I ended up with Dr. Alfred Timmins, I judged him to be in his middle
to late forties, hair thinning out and slightly overweight, paunchy around the
waist.
As with most psychiatrist, he listened while I spilled my guts, Dr. Simmons did
seem genuinely concerned with my problems, but the sessions didn't seem to be
helping me cope any better with my life. I planned to terminate our sessions in
person rather than over the phone, which I thought was the proper thing to do. I
was in the middle of my goodbye speech, trying to make it sound like I did truly
appreciate his efforts when he suddenly stood up behind his desk and walked over
to the couch where I was sitting. He spoke to me, his voice demanding, filled
with authority.
"Stand up Gia and remove your blouse."
I didn't why, well, yes maybe I did know why, anyway I stood up, my hands
trembling as I unbuttoned my blouse and slipped it off.
He went on with his demands."Now remove your bra Gia, I want to see your big
tits."
I hesitated as if I was going to refuse but I knew better, Dr. Timmins was in
control of me and I knew my place. I moved my hands to the back of my bra, my
nervous fingers fumbling with the snaps, finally it fell to the floor and my
tits were exposed to Dr. Timmins for the first time, I could feel the blood
rushing to my face, coloring it a light pink. He wasted no time, leisurely
lifting and testing my knockers as if they were hanging melons on a vine. He
ordered me to remove my panties, without hesitation I reached under my pleated
skirt, pulled my panties down my legs and stepped out of them. He held his hand
out and I gave him my panties which he placed in his pocket and told me that I
would be going home without them. He then ordered me to sit down and to spread
my legs, which I did, he then knelt down in front of me, reached in through my
skirt and penetrated me with his finger, he withdrew his finger and held it in
front of my face, it was wet and shiny, coated with the residue of my orgasm.
I'm Mrs.Timmins now, we have two kids, Michael and Angela and life couldn't be
better. All of the young studs envy my husband and wonder how a balding,
overweight, fifty year old man can get a Playboy centerfold to marry him. If
they only knew, I'm the beautiful aristocrat in our social life but in the
bedroom my fat, old husband is living a fantasy come true, his centerfold model
is his slave, his toy, he forces her to perform each and every vile act his
devilish mind can dream up and believe me he has a special and unique talent for
making her fully understand that her only mission in life is to service his
every whim, and that her sexual needs are not even a consideration. There was
this one time that he made me take this.....maybe some other time?
The End
Review This Story || Email Author: Leones