InvitingTheDevil

by Gabriella Bradley

  “It didn’t quite say it that way.”

  “That’s what it means. Strip.”

  I shivered. What the hell had I gotten myself into? My instinct, those I’d pushed so readily aside, that I was signing my life away, seemed correct. Maybe I should have listened to my inner voice. I stood and peeled off my tights and my top. Crossing my arms to hide my breasts, I waited.

  “Underwear, too.”

  I hesitated but cringed under his thunderous gaze. I quickly took off my panties.

  “Remove your arms from your breasts and stretch them above your head. Stand perfectly still.”

  I looked everywhere but at him although I felt his gaze roaming my body from bottom to top and back.

  “Turn around.”

  While my back was turned to him, I heard him on the phone. “Get me the salon.”

  “Helen, I’m sending a new model down this afternoon. She needs the works. Patch me through to Pierre?”

  “Pierre, this girl needs more than a makeover. Book her for electrolysis. Eyebrows, yes. And a full waxing. She’s raw material. Okay. Yes, sounds good. She’ll be there around one.”

  Waxing? Ouch. A full waxing? Surely he didn’t mean…

  “Turn around and face me again.”

  My face had to be as red as a beet by then and my clit throbbed under his scrutiny. Dare I drop my arms? He swung his legs off the desk, stood and walked toward me. Taking my arms, he pushed them down. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he swiveled me in a circle, then forced me to bend over. His hands were on my buttocks. “What is this good for? I didn’t read any of this in the contract,” I dared to say.

  I gasped as I received a resounding slap on my ass. Straightening, I jumped away from him. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Punishment for questioning me and I notice she does have some fire in her. Did it hurt?”

  A flash of anger made me snap at him. “Of course, it hurt. Dammit, you’re a strong man.” My ass still smarted from the resounding slap he’d administered in full force.

  “But looking at your pussy and your clit, you’re turned on.”

  I knew it. The smack had hurt, yes, but at the same time, it had ignited a fire within me that traveled down to my pussy, my clit and caused the lips to swell. I throbbed with a need I’d never experienced before.

  “I like it when you’re angry. It’s very becoming. Your eyes are sparkling right now and almost emerald. It’s interesting how they change color with your mood.”

  “I’m glad it amuses you,” I said tight-lipped. There was no way in hell I would give in to him. Is this why his wives had divorced him? Did every model have to go through this?

  “You’re very beautiful,” he said, his voice deep and husky. I melted under his hot gaze. When he licked his lips, I imagined his tongue licking mine, entering my mouth.

  He reached down and ran his hand over my mound, my bushy pubic hair. “I can imagine this after Pierre is finished with you,” he murmured. “Unusual for a blonde to have almost black pubic hair. I noticed your eyebrows are naturally dark, too.”

  A finger briefly delved between my legs feeling my slit, his other hand cupped a breast.

  “Mm, perfect size. Now that I have a feel of your body, I know exactly the kind of clothes I’ll personally design for you to model in our next fashion show. Look at those nipples. I’ve never seen any this large or so dark on a blonde woman. Your aureole is large, too.”

  He stroked my fully erect nipples. They’d always been a nuisance because they were quite large and often showed through flimsy material, as did the aureole, forcing me to wear a tank top, too. He stroked my body from head to toe, every inch of me. I wanted to squirm, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Thanks to the juices dribbling from my pussy, he already knew I was hornier than a cat in heat. I shivered.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  “No. I don’t scare easily.”

  “Good. You can get dressed now and go. I don’t want you to be late for your lessons.”

  Dismissed, just like that. He walked back to his desk, picked up the remote to unlock the doors, then sat and studied something on his computer.

  I hurriedly put my clothes back on. “Goodbye, Mr. Ostarizo.”

  He didn’t answer me. I slung my purse over my shoulder and quickly left his office, my mind still reeling with everything that had just happened.

  “I’ll take you to the studio now, Ms. Fitzgerald,” ogre said and led the way to the elevator.

  What she called, the studio, was on the floor below. While following her, I thought about what had just happened in Kalem’s office. Hopefully, it was the only time I’d have to suffer his examination. Did I really just think that? I knew, deep down, I longed for more, ached for his touch, would even welcome another smack on my ass. Slut. You hardly know the man. Remember what you read about him. Keep your distance. I continued to wrestle with my thoughts until the door of the studio clicked behind me.

  “Ms. Fitzgerald, I’ve been waiting for you.”

  A slight man, at least a head shorter than me, approached. His hair, what there was of it, was green. Most of his head was shaved and the mohawk started at his forehead and tapered down at the back. The shaven parts were tattooed. He had dark eyes, wore very tight white jeans and a green tank top. Brown eyes scrutinized me.

  “I’m Sheldon and I’ll be giving you your crash course in modeling. I hope you’re a fast learner. Kalem wants you in a show next week.”

  “Next week? Good God.”

  “Yes. That’s what I said when he told me. Darling, may I call you Danea? Although I really think you need a more alluring name for your modeling career.”

  “I’ll keep my own name, thank you.”

  “It’ll be up to Kalem, darling. I hope you have heels with you because we didn’t know your size so there are no shoes in your wardrobe yet.”

  “Yes.” I took them out of my bag.

  “Good. Put them on and let’s get started.”

  Sheldon amused me. He was professional, obviously gay, but I liked him. He was gentle, yet firm as he coached me.

  After a grueling three hours, my feet were killing me and I was dying of thirst. When he finally looked at his watch and said, “That’s it for today. I’ll see you the same time tomorrow morning.” I heaved an exhausted sigh.

  “Sorry for working you so hard, but you need to be ready for your first show in four weeks, hon.”

  “I can take it.”

  “Good. Go to the gym tonight and soak in the hot tub, darling. Don’t forget your clothes at the end of the day. Now that I know your shoe size, I’ll order those, too.”

  I looked at the rack of clothing he pointed at. “And how do you propose I take that home?”

  “Your car? I’ll help you take it down to parking.”

  “I don’t have a car. I use public transport.”

  “Oh, darling, how quaint. Whoever uses public transport nowadays? Don’t worry. I’ll talk to Kalem. We’ll figure something out. Now go or you’ll be late for your makeover session.”

  “Low income people, like me?” I answered. My stomach growled. Didn’t these people believe in breaking for lunch?

  He obviously heard it and grinned. “Poor thing. You’re starving. They’ll look after you downstairs, dear.”

  I knew where the salon was. It was on the main floor just off the lobby and only for Kalem’s models. I’d often seen them come out of the salon and I’d envy their beauty, their hair, and perfect makeup and wished I could be half as gorgeous.

  “Ah, here’s our newbie. Hi, Danea.” The receptionist placed a checkmark on a blocked out page with only one name on it. Mine. “Come with me. We’ll start with electrolysis.”

  “Could I go and get a bite to eat first?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. You came straight from the studio, right? I’ll order something in for you. My name’s Helen, by the way. You’ll be seeing a lot of me from now on, and our other staff, of course. Kalem
asked for a rush on you so we have you slotted for the whole afternoon, and perhaps even part of the evening.”

  “Pierre, this is Danea, Kalem’s latest acquisition.”

  A tall man approached, gray hair drawn back into a ponytail, and a handsome pleasant face. His eyes twinkled when he smiled and greeted me. I guessed him to be in his late forties. “Ah, fresh clay for us to shape and mold into a work of art. Welcome, Danea. We’ll start with electrolysis.”

  I hated the electrolysis. I didn’t have bushy eyebrows, so why it was necessary to tweak them was beyond me. I hated the waxing even more, especially when they waxed my pubic area. It was damned painful and extremely embarrassing to be lying there with my legs spread wide while a strange woman spread the lips, down there, and applied the wax, hovering dangerously close to my clit. Minutes later, she actually held the lips while she removed the wax. I couldn’t help but feel horny, especially when the girl pulled the skin tight around my clit. She didn’t bat an eyelid. I guess she was used to seeing come trickle down a woman’s slit. Without showing any expression, she reached for a wipe and gently dabbed between my folds. Good God, she even waxed between my bum cheeks.

  I was glad that part was over. My legs and armpits were next.

  “You’re fortunate. You have very fine hair on your legs and none on your arms and face,” she told me. Her name was Jennifer, and I guess I’d have to get used to Jennifer playing with my private parts as she told me I was to do this regularly.

  The mask felt pleasant on my face. While it was tightening my pores, my personal stylist, Hans, worked on my hair.

  “We’re not going to cut much off, darling. You have absolutely gorgeous hair,” Hans said.

  At that point, I didn’t care what they did. I just wanted to get it over and done with. I closed my eyes and didn’t open them again until he put me under the dryer.

  Somewhere in between, I’d managed to eat the salad Helen brought me. I sipped my coffee and glanced at the large clock. It was after seven.

  Before Hans finished my hair, Dot removed the mask and started to apply makeup. I found it rather useless because I wasn’t going anywhere. As she worked on my face, she showed me what I had to do in order to apply it myself.

  “You’ll get to take home a complete makeup kit,” Dot said. “Before a show and any special occasions, we do the girls’ makeup and hair, but in between, you have to take care of it yourself.”

  Hans finished my hair. The woman gazing at me from the mirror, hardly resembled Danea Fitzgerald. I couldn’t believe it was me. The transformation was phenomenal. I actually looked beautiful and was sure I could compete with any of Kalem’s gorgeous models.

  I was done and eager to go home. Do I tip them? Before I had a chance to wonder more, Helen gave me the answer. “Kalem tips us handsomely, especially for a specialty job like this one. Remember, when you spot hair growth, you come to the salon immediately.”

  “Do I need to phone for an appointment first?”

  “For a touch up, no. For a complete waxing, yes. You’ll need to have that done on a regular basis. Don’t worry. Our schedule is flexible since we’re not open to the public. We only serve Kalem’s harem.”

  “Cute. So I’m a member of his harem now.”

  Helen laughed. “Stay on his good side and you’ll be fine. Sheldon arranged for the company limo to drive you home with your new wardrobe. The limo should be waiting for you.”

  The neighborhood I lived in wasn’t sleazy, but neither was it upscale New York. I felt weird as it pulled up in front of my old apartment building. I had a sense of not belonging there anymore. Overnight, I was moving up in the world.

  “I’ll have to make several trips, Miss,” the chauffeur said, his arms laden with clothing.

  “Sorry, there’s no elevator. I’m on the second floor. I can carry some.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  I was glad my apartment was on the second floor. If the poor man would have had to go all the way to the sixth, he might have allowed me to carry some of the bags at least.

  He had to make eight trips. I offered him a coffee, but he declined politely, touched his cap and bid me a good night.

  I looked at the massive amount of clothing, boxes filled with shoes, purses and other accessories strewn throughout my living and dining room. I definitely needed to look for a larger apartment, if not for myself, at least one so I’d have room for my suddenly huge wardrobe.

  I should have been hungry, but I wasn’t. I automatically started to make coffee then changed my mind. I poured a glass of red wine instead and went to my bedroom to stand before the mirror. Though I was only wearing the tights and top I’d put on that morning, I felt glamorous and sophisticated. I admired my long hair hanging loose in shimmering golden waves. Hans had only trimmed the ends, styled it, and highlighted. It made a huge difference. My hair was normally a sandy blonde. It looked almost platinum. The makeup brought out the contours of my face, the eye makeup made my eyes look bigger and accenting their color. He’d delicately shaped my eyebrows. As I stood admiring the new me, my confidence slowly built within me.

  I sipped the last of my wine just as the buzzer announced a visitor. I knew it was Shannon. I pushed the button to let her in the front door downstairs and went to my door to wait for her.

  She came bounding up the stairs, two treads at a time and stopped suddenly when she saw me standing in the open doorway.

  “My God, girlfriend. Is that really you?”

  “I think it is.”

  “You look absolutely fabulous!”

  “Thanks. Come inside before the neighbors start complaining.”

  I refilled my glass and poured a glass of wine for Shannon. “It still feels surreal.”

  “What’s all this?”

  “Clothes. He wants me dressed in his designs at all times, except for modeling lessons. I have to wear tights and a top for that. Tomorrow will be a full day in the studio. I probably won’t get a chance to wear any of them until I’ve had my crash course in modeling.”

  Shannon made room on the couch and sat. “Tell me everything, from when you got there this morning until now.”

  I sat cross-legged on the floor close to her and while sipping my wine told her about my day. I left out the part where Kalem told me to strip, how he’d examined my body, and slapped me on the butt.

  “I’m so jealous,” Shannon said. “How much progress have you made with the man of your dreams?”

  I didn’t meet her eyes. “None. I’m not even sure I want to get involved with him now. Sure, he’s a hunk, but it’s not good to get involved with one’s boss.”

  “You’re hedging around something. Tell me the truth? You’ve really got the hots for him now, right?”

  “No more than before.” Another lie. Just thinking about him made me ache with a fiery lust and a longing I couldn’t quite place. “Shannon, I think it could be dangerous to get involved with him.” Now I was voicing some of my deep down fear of involvement with Kalem.

  “Dangerous how?”

  “It could lead to a broken heart. I don’t see him as the serious type. Women are toys to him.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “My gut.”

  “Hell, woman. Ride the rollercoaster while it lasts. Just don’t allow yourself to fall in love with him.”

  “He’s not interested in me that way.”

  “So you say.”

  How could I tell her that him feeling my body all over was not sexual, but had to do with his art, his designs. And that he’d humiliated me by smacking me soundly on my ass. Humiliated? Is that what I call it now? Did I really feel humiliated? I had to be honest with myself. I’d rather enjoyed the sudden smack, the sensations, the reaction it caused within me, and real deep down, I almost wished he’d smacked me again, and again.

  “Have you phoned your mother yet?”

  “No. I want to finish my training first and be more established before I do.”

 
“Why? You signed a contract for a year. Is there a trial period?”

  “It didn’t say anywhere in either contract.” It did say in the modeling contract that disobedience could cause dismissal. Again, I couldn’t tell Shannon. She and I always shared everything. Now, I kept my mouth shut about my turbulent feelings for Kalem and his overbearing behavior. From what she’d told me about her own sexual adventures, a man had never treated her that way. Her lectures wouldn’t end and I wasn’t about to invite one now. If Kalem was interested in me, desired me, he surely would have taken advantage of me that morning.

  After another glass of wine, we had fun examining all the new clothes and trying them on, until Shannon’s cell phone buzzed announcing a text message.

  “It’s Mark. He’s waiting out front.”

  “Oh? Doesn’t he want to come up?”

  “No. He has to get up early.”

  “So do I. I guess I should go to bed. Night, girlfriend.” I hugged her and closed the door behind her a few minutes later. Leaning against it for a moment, I almost hated the thought of having to cleanse my face.

  I used the special wipes I found in the makeup kit. It took the makeup off easily and I was again plain Jane. Not quite. As I gazed at my face in the mirror, I noticed a difference, an air of confidence, and my eyes sparkled with life.

  I crawled into bed and couldn’t help but dwell on Kalem’s hands on my body, on my nipples, on my pubic area. My fingers stole down to my clit. I pressed on the hard nub and came almost instantly.

  I woke at least a dozen times through the night. Each time, I struggled out of a dream that involved Kalem in some way.

  Chapter Three

  When the alarm went off, I fought my way out of the last dream—or perhaps I should call it a nightmare? Kalem had horns—he was the devil and he was holding out a contract for me to sign. Damn, was that what I’d done? Had I invited the devil into my life?

  I rushed my shower then made my first attempt at styling my hair. Makeup was next. I wasn’t green at putting on makeup. I used to wear some, just not as much as I was expected to now. I inspected my final handiwork and decided it would have to do. It wasn’t quite as professional, but knew I’d learn eventually. I also decided wearing makeup every single day was going to get boring. The fun in wearing it and dressing up was to show people a different side of myself. If I looked the same every day, no one would notice any difference unless I suddenly wore none, which was going to be the case on weekends when I usually just wanted to vegetate.