InvitingTheDevil

by Gabriella Bradley

  I stepped out of the dress. The seamstress took it from me carefully. How did one even wear such a dress? I was sure it would be ruined after one evening out. It was like wearing a cobweb. I dressed quickly into my suddenly drab clothing and headed out, along with some of the other models. No one had bothered to introduce themselves to me. Remembering the envious looks darting my way, did I expect anything else? I followed the others down to parking where I guessed the limo was waiting for me. There were several limos waiting. I noticed at least seven models getting into one before it drove off. Models piled into the second one.

  Charles got out of the third car and opened the door for me. Why did I ride alone? Was it because of the area I lived in? Probably. I wondered who the audience would consist of tomorrow. Movie stars? I felt a thrill at that thought. Maybe I’d get to meet some of the rich and famous.

  I stepped out of the limo, told Charles goodbye and hurried up to my apartment.

  I threw my shoulder bag onto a chair and kicked my shoes off. It was hot in the apartment, so I stripped down to my panties. While I filled my wine glass I considered going to the pool for a swim. I remembered what Hans told me. Never go swimming in a chlorinated pool without protecting your hair. It could affect the color. Well, it had been only a thought. Relaxing in the free corner of the couch, I turned the TV on.

  The news hardly interested me. My mind was on the events of that day. I think I finally realized Kalem’s behavior that first day had been a test to see if I’d object to wearing his risqué gowns. The gowns I was given were almost beyond risqué but positively stunning. My protest that morning had been a feeble one. I could have flatly refused and walked away. Sure, I’d have broken my contract, but what could he do—demand the money he’d paid me for my designs back? Sue me? For what?

  I was acting out of character. Usually I was a strong individual and stubborn. Was I really behaving out of character? Deep within me was a craving for the wild, for the exotic. Didn’t every woman have such deep down desires? How many got to act on them? All I’d needed was a little push and the opportunity.

  The silver dress—oh, my God! I closed my eyes and visualized it, imagined myself on the catwalk wearing it, a thousand faces following my every move. A thousand? I had no idea how big the audience would be. From some of the conversation I’d picked up, it was a private fashion show. Invitation only.

  Shannon phoned. “Danny, what do you get to wear?”

  “Three beautiful gowns, blue, black and silver.”

  “Oh, I bet they’re gorgeous. I hope I get to see pictures. Was he there?”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t act stupid, goof.”

  “No, he wasn’t.”

  “Describe the dresses?”

  “I described them but left out the see-through part.” I had no idea why I couldn’t talk to Shannon about any of the naughty bits. She was by no means an angel. She described her sexual adventures to me and was by no means a prude—far from it. Actually, Shannon would have probably been a better fit for the modeling position. She was brazen, a flirt, and didn’t mind showing some skin. I thought her incredibly beautiful with her jet-black hair, blue eyes, creamy skin and voluptuous body. Whenever we’d gone out together, men fell all over her and generally ignored me. She was a daredevil and game for anything. Given the opportunity, she’d flaunt her wares happily and especially liked showing off her large breasts.

  I recalled the last time she’d convinced me to go on a blind date with her and her date. The man, Rick, was attractive and Shannon’s date, a guy called Darren, ended up taking us to his penthouse late that night. He had a hot tub. Shamelessly, the men and Shannon had stripped and sat naked in the tub. No amount of coaxing convinced me to take off my bra and panties. Shannon made out with Darren right in front of us. Rick had tried, but I shied away from him. I wasn’t into one-night stands. I’d watched Shannon with fascination, how she unabashed fucked her date by sitting on his lap, his hands and mouth all over her breasts. It had turned me on, but not enough to make me want to have a stranger screw me. By the time they’d finally stopped and gotten out of the tub, I’d almost turned into a prune. Rick was bored with me and made it obvious, especially when he joined Shannon and Darren on the floor and I got to witness a threesome. I envied Shannon her shamelessness, but I never longed to be that promiscuous. When they finally passed out, I called a taxi and went home.

  The next day, Shannon called me and gave me no amount of shit. “Girlfriend, that’s the last time I’ll arrange a blind date for you.”

  I didn’t care. I truly longed for a relationship, not for flings or one-night stands. Mark was the only one Shannon had dated exclusively for quite a while. Maybe she was finally settling down.

  I pictured the silver gown again, swaying to the music as I walked out to face the audience, and my pussy ached, my clit throbbed. I spread my legs and stroked myself. My pussy felt weird, naked. I placed my thumb on my clit. It didn’t take long before I came. I stroked the baby soft skin between my legs. It still felt strange, but nice at the same time.

  My wine glass was empty so I stood to fill it. I took it to the bedroom and set it on my nightstand. After peeling my panties off, I sat on the floor at the foot of my bed facing the mirror. I pulled my knees up and spread them. My breasts were hard, the nipples like tiny pebbles begging for attention. I pinched each one and massaged my breasts. While gazing at my reflection, focusing on my pussy, I stroked it. It looked so strange, so baby bare, yet so alluring and pink. The flesh between was moist and a dusty rose color. I’d never pleasured myself like that. I tried to picture Kalem doing it to me, his hand between my legs, his mouth on my nipple, and my come burst loose soaking my hand. I sat breathing heavily and gazing at my clit, my opening, the fragile flesh between my pussy lips, until my heart resumed a normal rhythm and my libido subsided.

  I retrieved my glass of wine and after washing my hands, returned to the living room and tried to concentrate on TV. It was only after another glass of wine I finally dozed off, still curled up in the corner of the couch.

  Chapter Four

  I was almost used to getting naked. After a facial, my hair in rollers, one of the girls took me to a cubicle and told me to strip and lie down on a table. I thought I was being treated to a massage. Instead, the young woman rubbed my whole body with what felt like fine sandpaper. Then she applied a lotion over every inch. After waiting a few minutes, she told me to follow her and led me to a cubicle.

  “Stand on the half moon,” she told me.

  “What’s this for?” I asked.

  “Spread your legs as wide as you can. It’s mystic spray tanning. Orders from Kalem.”

  “Oh? How long until it dries?”

  “It’ll give you a glowing tan in five minutes. Here, let me put a shower cap on your head. Close your eyes and spread your fingers. Also, during the spraying, bend over with your legs spread as wide as possible.”

  “Really? How long does the tan last?”

  “About a week, if you don’t bathe right away and don’t go swimming except in fresh water. Chlorine and salt water cause the tan to fade faster.”

  “Oh. Will he want this each time?”

  “Not necessarily. You’re the only model he requested it for.”

  “I hope it’s even. I’ve seen some nasty fake tans.”

  “Don’t worry. I do this all the time. I’ve never created a spotty woman.”

  She hadn’t been kidding. I’d never really tanned and never used a tanning booth because of the dangers tanning presented. Whenever I went swimming, I applied the highest protection possible. When I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, just outside the booth, I gasped. My eyes contrasted sharply against my tanned face. In no time, I’d acquired a beautiful, golden tan. It had also made my nipples and aureole darken to a chocolate brown. Even my pussy lips were tanned and that made my slit show more vividly. My clit throbbed again beneath the little tuft of pubic hair shaped into a beautiful thin line
and trimmed fairly short.

  I sat up, grabbed the towel and draped it around myself before getting off the table. I walked to the door and Helen rushed to meet me.

  “Good, you’re done. Makeup is waiting for you. You have to be ready in half an hour. Not much time.”

  She led me to a waiting chair and walked away muttering under her breath about Kalem and his unexpected orders. I understood her exasperation.

  We were all ready. I followed the other women out of the salon, gratified they’d all worn casual clothing, like mine. That time, I got to ride in a limo with seven other girls. “My name’s Danea Fitzgerald,” I introduced myself.

  I got a few lame hellos. The others ignored me. One girl, a beautiful African-American, was the only one who introduced herself.

  “Hi, Danea. I’m Odette.”

  I smiled. “How long have you modeled for Kalem?” I asked.

  “About eighteen months. He’s a good boss to work for, as long as you do as you’re told. I’m getting married soon, so I’ll have to find work elsewhere. Kalem doesn’t like his models to be married.”

  “Is that so? No worry for me there. I don’t even have a boyfriend.” Not that I wanted one, especially with all the metal between my legs and a locked pussy. I badly wanted to ask Odette about her sex life, but hell, I had just met the woman.

  “You’re very lucky, Danea.”

  “Lucky?”

  “For Kalem to have noticed you and hired you on the spot. You weren’t even a model to start with. We’ve all had a tough road to get where we are right now. You fell right into a bowl of whipping cream, so to speak.”

  “I guess it’s a bit of a fairytale. I’m still completely unsure of modeling and myself. It was never my vocation. My dream was, and still is, to be a fashion designer. Kalem hired me for his design team, before he decided I should model.”

  “I don’t blame him. You’re gorgeous, absolute perfection.” She lowered her voice. “The other girls are very jealous.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “Especially because Kalem chose you to model his three personal designs.”

  “I don’t know why. I hardly know him and he hardly knows me. He doesn’t even know if I’ll be successful at modeling.”

  “He’s got a sharp eye. He wouldn’t have chosen you if he hadn’t thought you could perform for him.”

  The fashion show was at a private estate. I had no idea where we were. The mansion was beautiful, stately and huge. The chauffeurs ushered us up the steps and inside to a large ballroom. It was set up with a stage and a catwalk. Round tables covered with black tablecloths and set with sparkling crystal and silver flatware filled the ballroom. Waiters flitted about giving last minute touches to flowers or place settings. Each table setting had a name card behind the plate.

  Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Wall to wall glass doors opened to patios where I noticed more tables had been set up.

  Odette caught up to me. “The funds collected from the ticket sales for this show is going to charity. Tons of big names here tonight from what I’ve heard.”

  “Really?” My heart sped up. I hadn’t had time to become nervous, but looking at the fancy décor and all the tables, I felt flutters and nauseated. “I feel sick,” I muttered.

  “I don’t doubt it. It’s all happened so fast for you. I have some antacids. I’ll give you some when we’re in the changing room.”

  The change room was at the back of the ballroom beside the stage. It wasn’t overly big so it was very cluttered with the racks of clothing, the seamstress, Hans, Sheldon and us girls. “Kalem is not attending?” I asked Odette.

  “Oh, don’t worry. He’ll be here. He very seldom comes into the changing room.”

  Sheldon hurried toward me, my dresses draped over an arm, a bag in his other hand. “Hon, you look scrumptious enough to eat. Here are your dresses. Hang them on a rack near you. Start with the blue. You’ll find accessories in the bag.”

  I was glad Odette stayed near me. I took my clothes off, my panties last. A few small spots of blood stained them. Odette’s gaze glued to the V at the top of my legs. Though I kept them tightly together as I searched for the matching panties to the dress, she noticed.

  “Nice,” she said softly, gazing pointedly at my clit ring. Heat rushed to my face.

  “Don’t worry. We’ve all had our share of piercings, although I didn’t get a clit ring.”

  I looked at Odette’s beautiful, ebony body and noticed her bellybutton piercing and nipple rings. “What’s the purpose of it?”

  “As you know, some of his designs are see-through. He claims clients like to see the pierced nipples and bellybuttons.”

  “Mm, maybe male clients?”

  “Probably. Who knows?” She grinned. “My fiancé doesn’t have any objections. He says it turns him on. I’ll be so glad when I receive the keys to my locks. I presume you got those, too?”

  I nodded.

  “I guess it’s kinda cool. I’ll be a virgin until my wedding night.”

  “You are? How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty. I was only eighteen when Kalem signed me.”

  “Has he ever…I mean…does he—”

  “No. He doesn’t have relations with any of his models, if that’s what you’re trying to ask,” Odette said, stopping me before I could ask the question.

  I’d been correct in my assumption. It had all been a test.

  “Girls, stop chatting. Odette, hurry up. You’re first. Danea, you’re last each round because you’re wearing Kalem’s exclusive designs, but hurry and get ready in case there’s a last minute glitch, girl.”

  I’d almost forgotten I was still naked. I pulled the blue G-string out of the bag and put it on, followed by the shoes. The dress was next. I carefully let it slide over my head trying not to muss my hair. Hans was already by my side with a brush.

  The wait seemed long before it was my turn. Sheldon had me standing by the door. I waited for the narrator to finish and Sheldon gave me a little nudge. I walked onto the stage. The music was loud, deafening. At first, I was blinded by the spotlight aimed at me, then I noticed a sea of faces waiting expectantly. I almost froze, then remembered Sheldon’s instructions. Phaze out. Pretend you’re there alone and modeling for the love of your life. I imagined Kalem among the faces. He was probably there, somewhere. I concentrated on him and stepped forward. I paused when I got back to the stage and swiveled several times, loud clapping overshadowed the music. Still doing the model walk, I swayed to the door and slipped through as another model slipped past me onto the stage.

  I let out a deep breath. Sheldon was beside me instantly.

  “You did well. Matter of fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’d done this before. You’re a natural, darling. Now go and change. The black is next.”

  I dug in the bag. No G-string to wear with the black dress. I slipped into it and waited for Sheldon to fasten the collar for me. “There’s no G-string,” I said.

  “Nope. Or for the silver dress. Kalem ordered you’re to wear nothing under those two.”

  “Better get used to it, babe,” Odette told me and winked.

  I put on the high heels. Sheldon adjusted the dress here and there. When I stood before the mirror and Hans touched up my hair, the makeup girl dabbed at my face applying a more vivid color lipstick on my lips, I gazed at my reflection. I saw the shimmering of my new clit ring through the gauzy material. I had no choice, it was too late to back out now. Odette took off, dressed in a stunning red gown. Parts of it were see-through, and a low back showed part of her crack, the bodice barely covering her breasts and clung to her Amazon body. Not only was the gown stunning, so was she. I waited for her to finish and Sheldon pushed me through the door. Like before, I pretended my only audience was Kalem. How would I parade this dress for him? I smiled. Something I’d been told not to do. Loud clapping ensued. My heart hammered against my ribs as I made my way back, swiveled several times on the stage and wa
lked gracefully to the door.

  “Oh, my God, girl. You brought the building down,” Sheldon said.

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “Good. You’ll freeze if you start taking notice of the audience. Now go. Last dress and the highlight of the evening. I’ll be with you shortly.”

  It was all so fast paced—I hardly had time to breathe. No G-string for that dress either, Sheldon had said. Damn, and this one was completely sheer from top to bottom. I stepped into the gossamer dress first and carefully pulled it up. I was scared stiff I’d tear the fragile fabric. Sheldon joined me and helped me into the silver harness. After I slipped the matching high heels on, he fastened a silver slave bracelet around both my wrists with a large ring dangling from each. He spun me to face the mirror.

  “Oh, my God. I can’t go out there like this, Sheldon! You can see almost everything.”

  “Darling, you think you can because you know you’re not wearing anything underneath. It’s not that bad.”

  I knew he was lying to make me feel better. The lights were bright inside the change room and I could clearly make out my clit, my little tuft of dark pubic hair, and the gold clit ring. My nipples, so much darker because of the tan, were clearly visible and hard as a rock. The adrenaline coursed through me, my clit throbbing and swollen, my pussy lips were hot and engorging by the minute. I gazed at my back. Half my crack was visible above the material. Had the seamstress made it lower? And what was covered, might as well not have been.

  “I might as well walk out there stark naked.”

  “Get a grip, darling. You brought the house down with the black dress, just wait for the reaction to this one. Do what I told you. Pretend you’re modeling it for your lover.”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Dammit, girl, pretend you have one. Don’t you drool over some movie star like most women?”

  I wanted to revolt, and yet I felt excitement. I conjured Kalem’s face up in my mind and bolts of lightning shot through my body as if he was there, touching me. I could hardly breathe. My throat felt constricted as I waited. I froze when I had to go onto the stage. Sheldon pushed me hard and I almost stumbled through the door. The narrator’s voice was a droning sound. I barely heard what she said over the loud music and wondered vaguely if the audience could understand her. There were probably speakers throughout the ballroom.