Choices

by Galia Ryan

She rolled the pink nipple between her fingers. Immediately it became erect. She pinched the other nipple. It, too, was instantly hard.

  “Very nice.”

  Anna swallowed and closed her eyes.

  “Lift your arms above your head.”

  She ran her hand down Anna’s side and over the curve of her bottom. Anna shivered and her skin reacted with goose bumps.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No.”

  Stephanie circled her, touching and stroking. The sensation was unlike any Anna had experienced; it was intimate, erotic, and very arousing.

  “Open your legs.”

  She placed a hand on Anna’s stomach and slowly moved it downwards.

  Anna swallowed hard again. She was short of breath, and her nipples were aching for more attention. She was also regretting the wine she had drunk.

  When Stephanie’s fingers were entangled in the triangle of hair below Anna’s belly, they stopped.

  “Do you want me to carry on?”

  Anna was aware of the significance of the question. Tears started to form in the corners of her eyes and she stared hard at the ceiling.

  “Do you want me to carry on?’ The question was quietly repeated.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, please carry on.”

  “And what exactly do you want me to do?”

  Only then did Anna know there were levels of shame she had never dreamed of.

  “Please touch me down there.”

  Stephanie leaned forward, flicking out her tongue to catch the solitary tear gliding down Anna’s cheek. Then she placed her mouth against her ear.

  “Down where, Anna? Tell me exactly what you want me to touch.”

  As she eased away, her tongue lingered once more on the damp trail the tear had left.

  “My cunt. Please touch my cunt.” A sob escaped.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want me to do?”

  The fingers hovered tantalisingly.

  “Yes.” The anguish was overwhelming.

  Stephanie applied the slightest amount of pressure on Anna’s clitoris when her middle finger slipped between the swollen lips.

  “Mmm. You are wet.”

  She pressed her hand firmly against Anna’s flesh, leaving only the tip of her finger to play at the entrance to her cunt. Soon Anna was delirious in her need for actual penetration and rocked her hips backwards and forwards in an effort to force the finger inside her.

  “Do you like that?”

  “Yes.” Anna groaned, her arm still over her head as if secured by invisible bonds.

  “Thank you, Anna.”

  There was shock as the hand was abruptly removed. Shaking uncontrollably, Anna stared in disbelief as the other woman turned away.

  “You can get dressed now.” Stephanie told her pleasantly.

  Chapter 5.

  Anna was sullen as she gathered her clothes, giving no reaction when Stephanie declared that she was prepared to make an initial investment in her.

  “Are you not pleased?”

  “I’m not sure what there is to be pleased about.” She saw little reason to hide her mood. Having pulled on her t-shirt, she was concentrating on tidying her hair.

  “Then you must take your time, and give my proposal serious consideration. After all, this line of work does not suit everyone, as lucrative as it might be. Why don’t I run through the details?”

  Anna shrugged.

  “Excellent. Well, obviously there is the portfolio to consider. As I said, I suggest we use Tony. He isn’t cheap, but then cheap is not what we are looking for, is it? But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. We have a little work to do on you first. Oh, don’t worry; you will love it, I promise. How does a day at a spa sound?”

  “At this moment, wonderful.” There was no mistaking the derision in her voice.

  “Good. I will book you for a range of treatments at a little place I use. Facials, manicure, pedicure, the works. Have you ever had a hot stone massage?”

  She was being manipulated but lacked the strength or the will to fight back.

  “Then you are in for a treat. You’re a little pale, so perhaps we will add a spray tan. It gives the illusion of health, as well as implying you have time to relax in the sun. After that we’ll deal with your hair. Not that there is anything wrong with it now, but a new style, both in terms of cut and colour, can do wonders. What do you say?”

  “If I agree, how am I to pay for it all? I presume I do have to pay?”

  “We’ll make it simple. The agency will cover all of your initial costs, and then invoice you once you are in a position to repay us.”

  “Supposing I don’t work out as an escort ... then what?”

  “Let’s not worry about that now.”

  “But I am worried. What if I just can’t do it?”

  “Then we’ll work something out. A way for you to pay us back which won’t be too onerous,” Stephanie replied in a soothing voice.

  Deep down Anna knew that the only way she would be allowed to repay this debt would be on her back.

  “Do you have any more concerns?” Stephanie asked.

  “Only one.” Still trying to find a flaw in Stephanie’s plans, Anna pointed out that it was all well and good having spa treatments and a new hairstyle but her wardrobe might not stand up to scrutiny for the portfolio, especially since they were going to a lot of trouble with the rest of her.

  “That will be taken care of. We will provide the clothing. All you need to do is study the poses of the models in these magazines to get an idea of what is expected.”

  Anna noted that among the high-end fashion magazines handed to her were those more usually found on the top shelf of a newsagent, sealed in plastic wrappers.

  “What’s in the envelope?”

  “Instructions for Tony. Not that he needs any. Just hand it over when you get there.”

  “How did you know I would agree to it all?”

  “What other choice have you got?”

  Not surprisingly, Anna found sleep impossible. She tossed and turned, wondering what on earth she was getting herself into. More to the point, why had she allowed Stephanie to do such an awful thing to her? She should have resisted her advances and retained her dignity. Angrily, she threw back the duvet to benefit from the cool night air.

  Staring into the darkness, she recalled the strangeness of being touched by another woman. Gentle, loving, almost reverent. And knowing, yes that was the word, knowing where to linger, where to tease. Her hand moved between her legs, her finger unconsciously mimicking Stephanie’s.

  Why had Stephanie stopped? The answer was obvious and humiliating. There was no need for her to continue; she had seen how quickly Anna could be aroused and how ready she was to be used, even at the hands of a stranger.

  Was it true? Was she a natural slut?

  Her back arched as she pushed deep inside herself, groaning in despair. She should not be turned on this way. Not by something so sordid.

  She pictured herself being fucked by a man who had paid for the privilege of not having to remember her name. If she tried hard enough she could feel him on top of her, his crushing weight, the coarseness of the hair on his body, the strength of his thighs forcing her own legs farther apart as he used her. He would care little for her and her pleasure, and in all probability she would never see him again. Her breath quickened.

  It would be shameful, but perhaps also liberating. She could reinvent herself, be whoever she wanted to be. As her sodden fingers moved up to frantically massage her clit, she pushed the bounds of her fantasy, imagining being marketed as not just a good fuck, but as someone who knew exactly how to please and for whom no sex act was too demanding.

  Her orgasm was intense and prolonged.

  Each and every one of her doubts came back the following morning. Unable to concentrate, she forwarded an assessment for a substantial loan without completing all the essential checks and balances
. The reaction of her departmental head was commensurately scathing, even though it was unusual for her work to lack such attention, and his email returning the file contained harsh comments. Knowing that the reprimand was deserved spurred her on to do whatever was necessary to resolve her situation. After all, if her work continued to suffer she would soon be out of a job, and then what? Government assistance? She shuddered.

  Her portfolio was shot the day after her hair had been layered into a shorter style that perfectly framed her face and three days after the pampering that, as she had been promised, left her skin glowing and her spirits revived.

  Arriving at the studio, she had little idea what to expect. It was a cavernous place, not unlike a disused warehouse, and she was more than a little relieved to find not only a photographer but also a makeup artist waiting for her. The presence of another woman suggested that this would be a professional and therefore somewhat respectable shoot.

  “Hi, I’m Cassandra. Everyone calls me Cass, and I’m going to make sure that you look absolutely beautiful for the camera. That’s Tony over there. He’s the one taking your photos.” The girl waved in the direction of a guy busy projecting light onto a backdrop and leaned closer. “Italian on his father’s side. Can you tell? Not bad, eh?”

  Anna looked over. He definitely had the cheekbones and smouldering Latin eyes. She had never felt comfortable with exceptionally good-looking men—not that she had ever been out with one—but she had heard that the more attractive they were, the more arrogant and self-centred.

  “Wow! Do you want me to sit down?” She hoped her nervousness wasn’t too obvious.

  “Please. Hey, I love your hair. The colour works really well with your skin tone.”

  “Thanks. It was only done yesterday.”

  “You like it?”

  “Yes, I do, actually. I’ve had highlights before, but I’ve always stuck with blonde, so when this colour was suggested—I think she called it caramel—I was a bit worried it might be too drastic.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little change every now and then. You’d never believe I was blonde as a child, would you?”

  Cass’s long dark curls were punctuated with an abundance of vivid pink and mahogany highlights.

  “I can’t say I would have guessed,” Anna laughed. Unexpectedly she was starting to relax.

  “Okay, first I’m going to remove your makeup. Have you ever been professionally made up before?”

  A plastic cape was swirled around her shoulders.

  “Never.”

  “Then sit back and enjoy.”

  Wads of damp cotton wool were immediately smoothed over her skin, and even though Cass chattered unceasingly, it soon became obvious that Anna was not required to respond. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of what was to come.

  Then Cass was instructing her to check herself out in the mirror.

  She looked amazing. Each product had been expertly applied and the finished look was not as over-the-top as she had feared. The eyes that gazed back at her from under anthracite lids were still her own, as were the cheekbones cleverly accentuated with a hint of rose. Her lips, which appeared to be plumper, were covered in a soft pink gloss that caught the light.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s incredible!” Anna repeatedly changed the angle of her head to get a better look.

  “Okay. That’s me, finished,” Cass announced happily, as she gathered her brushes and pots. “All yours. And be nice!”

  She aimed the last at Tony, who was scrolling through his sound system.

  “As always,” he responded. “Okay, Anna. We’re going to start with the first outfit on the rack. Two minutes? You okay with some old Motown?”

  “Sure.”

  She collected the garment bag to the sound of Marvin Gaye. Although not her favourite style of music, the track was familiar enough that she could hum a few bars, and her movements gained an unconscious fluidity. The outfit turned out to be a stunning cream silk trouser suit, accessorized with delicate strappy stilettos and a trilby hat.

  “I think I’m missing some of this,” she said, searching the bottom of the bag.

  “Like what?’

  “Well, something to go underneath?”

  “There isn’t anything. You’re supposed to be naked.”

  “Oh.”

  She blushed and cursed her stupidity.

  After looking around for a screen to afford her privacy while changing and seeing nothing remotely suitable, she finally realized she was expected to dress and undress where she stood. Hoping she was mistaken, she almost asked whether there was a changing room she could use, but decided she looked unprofessional enough already. Instead she turned her back and hoped that Tony would be polite enough to look away.

  When she finally turned to the mirror to pile up her hair before positioning the hat, she studied her reflection in amazement. There was no way in the world this could be her. My God, she looked so sexy!

  Suddenly she remembered the instructions Stephanie had given her.

  “Ready?” Tony called impatiently.

  “Just a minute.”

  She rummaged in her bag and retrieved the envelope.

  “This is for you. From Stephanie,” she explained as she handed it to him.

  “Thanks.” He tore it open and pulled out a single sheet of expensive writing paper. He merely glanced at the half a dozen lines Stephanie had written before passing it to her.

  She read the words in dismay and then lowered her head, unable to meet his eyes.

  “Shall we start?” he proposed.

  The first frames were to be shot on a set with only a stool for her to perch on. Other than a request to undo a couple of buttons on the jacket she was not directed to remove any clothing, simply to turn first one way then the other. Just when she felt she was getting the hang of it, she heard Tony ask for a change of outfit. He posed her in black elbow-length gloves, seamed stockings and a red velvet dress, indecently short. Completing the look was a wide brimmed hat that almost obscured her face.

  “Lovely,” he said. “I only want to see your lips, not your eyes. Lower your head a fraction. More. Perfect.”

  When he was satisfied he had the shots he wanted, he called a short break and opened a bottle of wine.

  “Okay so far?” he asked, handing her a glass.

  “So far.” She gave a tremulous smile.

  “You’re a natural. When you’re ready, get into the next outfit. We’re moving over to that set.” He indicated the ornate wrought-iron bedstead and rumpled sheets.

  She was to wear a white satin corset, one so tight it required his help to fasten. Her breasts were perilously close to spilling over the top.

  “I think it is the wrong size,” she muttered, trying to force the cups to accept more of her.

  “Not from where I’m standing.”

  She glanced up, surprised at the note in his voice.

  “Shall we get started?” he continued easily.

  As if affected by what she was wearing, he gave more explicit directions. At first he wanted her virginal, standing demurely, her eyes lowered in modesty. Then she had to lean forward, cupping her breasts in offering. When he posed her on the bed, kneeling with her bottom in the air as if begging for punishment, she knew she had lost her last shred of dignity. Thankfully after that he indicated he was ready to move on to the final outfit. She got off the bed and drained the last of her wine in one go.

  “More?” he asked, waving the bottle at her.

  “Please.”

  He filled her glass while she changed again, this time into nothing more than a wisp of transparent nylon. While he adjusted the camera she lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed as much as she could. There was no other way to get through the shots that would come next.

  She tried her best to follow his instructions, but they were no longer complimentary, only base and demeaning.

  “Show me your tits. Good. Now hold them up f
or the camera. Squeeze them together. That’s right. Now play with yourself, baby. Open your legs. Wider. That’s better. Let the camera see what you’ve got. Use your fingers. That’s it. Get them right inside. And smile. Come on darlin’, show me how badly you want it.”

  It was more than humiliating, it was degrading, but she dutifully followed each and every one of his directions.

  “Okay. I think we’ve got enough.”

  He put the camera down and she eased herself off the bed with relief. Her ordeal was almost over.

  Tony’s expression as she walked towards him was expectant.

  “Have I pleased you?” she asked quietly.

  “Look at me when you talk to me.”

  She raised her head obediently. Her eyes were closed but she forced them open, knowing she must follow Stephanie’s instructions to the letter.

  “If you are aroused and in need of relief, I have been instructed to offer you my mouth.”

  “So it seems. Why don’t we get comfortable on the bed? First,” he said when he had positioned himself on the edge, “I want to taste you.”

  Pulling her between his legs he brushed aside the narrow strip of nylon and reached for her breast to lick the soft underside. Seconds later he was roughly squeezing the other and taking the nipple into his mouth. For a few seconds he sucked before gently closing his teeth around the tender nub.

  Anna threw her head back as an unexpected sensation coursed through her.

  “Like that, do you?”

  He moved back to the other nipple and gently bit down on that one, too.

  She held his head against her breast, as if she couldn’t get enough of his attention. Then his hand was between her legs, making her moan in pleasure.

  “Oh baby, you’re going to be good at your new job,” he laughed as his fingers found her clit. “And are you a good little cocksucker, too?”

  “Not yet.” She could hardly breathe. Her head was swimming and she was pumping down onto his hand in an effort to find relief. Dimly she realised—as shaming as the last session had been—that between that and the wine she was more than a little turned on.

  “Then you had better start practicing.”