Leah's Lens Trilogy

by Bridy McAvoy

  I couldn’t work out what his plan was, but he obviously had one – one I was quickly beginning to expect I wouldn’t like. I of course didn’t have any option and did as I was told. I looked up and checked both camera areas were clean after the bird inspired mishap of the day before and was grateful to see everything was fine. On the edge of the deck the two video cameras were already running and the two men were crouched behind their stills cameras, adjusting the focus to point directly at me.

  “Now, whatever you do, don’t move from that spot. Leah? Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Now look at me. Good. Spread your feet about a foot apart. Clasp your hands behind your back. Excellent. Smile please, Leah! Don’t forget to smile. Look up at the sky. Good. Look back at me.”

  I could see Stan had moved away from his camera and was standing just in front of the kitchen window. I couldn’t work out why.

  “Really smile, nice and wide please, missy. Perfect. Now close your eyes. Excellent. Now, Stan.”

  Why did he say that?

  Before I could open my eyes to check, it was too late. Stan had hit the override switch on the lawn sprinkler system. They’d positioned me perfectly, right between two sprinklers with another one right behind me. Spray after spray of extremely cold water cascaded onto me from all directions and all I could do was scream. My hands flew from behind my back to try and cover myself to stop the cold water hitting sensate spots but it was too late. Within seconds I was utterly soaked, and water was running down my back from my hair. Why I didn’t simply run from where I’d been told to stand I didn’t know, but I didn’t attempt to actually get away.

  The cotton singlet was horribly wet and clinging to every single curve of my body. I quickly glanced down, water pouring off the end of my nose in a rivulet as I did so. That glance confirmed the reason for the choice of clothing specified by Owen. The cold water had instantly hardened my nipples and plastered the wet fabric to my body, turning it transparent in the process. I could feel the panties clinging to me as well and it only took an educated guess to know every detail of my mons was revealed through them as well.

  “Well done for standing still, Leah! I’m proud of you. Stay there just for another minute. Put your hands behind you again. Good girl.”

  I could see Owen, but Stan seemed to have disappeared.

  Shit! Where’s he gone?

  It was bright sunshine on the lawn and even though it was mid morning it was already very hot out here, but I was shivering. Suddenly I spotted Stan approaching form the side, keeping out of the way of the sprinklers and he pulled something along with him.

  God! The hose! No!

  It was too late, the jet of cold water caught me full force right on the chest, hitting my outlined cleavage and blasting all over my freezing breasts. I staggered back a couple of paces as the two men chuckled.

  Stan played the hose all over the front of me, the grin on his face showing he was enjoying the torment immensely. There was nothing I could do other than stand there and take it as he alternated between playing the hose all over me and concentrating on one or other of my nipples or blasting straight at my mound.

  “Raise your arms in the air. Good girl! Now turn round and face away from the house.”

  Now they could see the way the clinging fabric outlined my ass which was immediately blasted with another jet from the hose. Finally, Stan shut off the hose and returned to the deck. The sprinklers also slowed and then died, leaving me drenched and freezing cold in the middle of a soaking but sun-baked lawn.

  “Bastards!”

  I stood there, hands on hips, glaring at the two of them as they high-fived each other and laughed.

  “That was a nice quick session, Leah! Come on, be a sport, it was good and it was fun.”

  “You know what, Owen? I think she’s more upset ‘cos this time round she didn’t get fucked! She only got wet another way!”

  Stan roared with laughter at his own joke and I tried hard to keep the glower on my face.

  “Okay, sweetheart, session over, except we want a few walk away shots and some close ups. So, come up to the edge of the deck and stand there please.”

  I did as I was told. My only escape route was either through the trees to one of the neighbours or past them into the house. One was out of the question while the other was obviously unreachable.

  “Well done, sweetie, we’ll let you go and get a nice warm shower now, to warm up. Not that you need it to get clean of course.”

  I walked past them into the house, my wet feet slapping against the boards of the deck, small rivulets of water dripping off me. I was concerned about dripping water all over the carpets, so went to at least remove the tight, wet cotton garments, but Owen stopped me.

  “Uh-uh. Leave them on, Leah! Water dries quickly and we want to watch you go upstairs and into the bathroom looking like that.

  Bastards!

  Part IV

  When I emerged from the bathroom wearing my nice warm towelling robe, my hair wrapped in a towel, I was surprised to find both of them in the bedroom, four tripods scattered about as usual and the two video cameras already mounted and pointing at the bed. The stills cameras were held loosely by each man in turn. Obviously this set was going to happen in the bedroom, whether I liked it or not.

  Owen patted the back of the chair in front of the dressing table.

  “Please come and sit down, Leah! You need to fix your hair, can’t shoot you in bed with wet hair, can we?”

  The two men expectantly turned to face the dressing table, one from each side, cameras rising to their faces. Obviously they wanted to film me drying and brushing my hair. It was also immediately obvious the robe wouldn’t survive the process otherwise the shots wouldn’t be interesting enough for these two perverts.

  Although the memory of my short time on the lawn getting wet and cold lingered and still hurt, the memory of the earlier sex was rather stronger. It was patently obvious I was going to end up in bed with, probably, both of them.

  No carpet burns on my knees this time! Thank God!

  Walking past Owen, I sat down in front of the dressing table and slowly pulled the towel off my head and began to vigorously rub my blonde locks. Normally I wouldn’t just towel and then blow dry my hair, I’d get the heated straighteners out as well, but something told me these two would be too impatient to watch such a boring performance.

  “Stan, I think you’ll have to move over here, otherwise I’ve got your reflection in the mirror.”

  “Oh, right.”

  I watched through the same mirror as Stan moved to stand next to Owen and resumed rubbing my hair. Finally I was satisfied I’d got the bulk of the water out of it. I reached for my hair dryer and then scooted the chair back in order to reach underneath the table to plug it in.

  “Hold it a second, Leah. I think that movement would look better if you undid the belt first.”

  “Kinky sod!”

  He just laughed but motioned for me to continue. I pulled the two ends of the loose bow apart and allowed the two halves of the belt to fall to the sides, then bent down again. Of course, the second I did so, the top half of the robe split open and my breasts fell forward into the gap. The frantic clicking of the camera shutters confirmed they liked the view. Suppressing a giggle at what appeared, to me, to be a rather juvenile type of photo opportunity, I plugged the hair dryer in and sat back up. There was little point in feigning modesty so I made no attempt to pull the two halves of the robe together.

  I’ve always enjoyed the play of warm air over my damp hair, ever since my mother first allowed me to use her hair dryer from the age of about six. I’m not saying it turned me on, it didn’t, but I enjoyed it. Doing so, with two men taking pictures of my breasts obscenely hanging out of the front of my gaping robe, rather took the enjoyment out of the situation. I’d been very thorough with the towel so it only took three or four minutes to complete the process and I switched the dryer off. Again, I bent down to pull the pl
ug free from the socket and surreptitiously used the hand furthest away from them to jerk the bottom half of the robe open. I knew what they wanted and Stan, at least, was paying for the view.

  I heard the gasp as I straightened up and realised Stan had spotted the movement. Owen betrayed nothing but I assumed he hadn’t either—he didn’t miss anything ever! I picked up my brush and comb and started pulling the knots out, which was disconcerting when I could see the two of them in the edge of the mirror jostling to take photos of my exposed body parts.

  “Scoot the chair back a little, please, Leah.”

  I did as they asked and glancing down. I knew they could see just about everything—well, they would if I opened my legs a little.

  Ah well!

  Anticipating the command was coming more naturally now as I slowly stretch my right leg out in front of me, rotating it sideways in the same movement, trying to make it look as natural as possible.

  “Very good, Leah! You are getting the hang of this. Don’t brush your hair out fully. We want a bit of a tousled look.”

  I didn’t need the confirmation that the shoot was going to happen in or on the bed, but I had it whether I needed it or not.

  “You might as well let it fall back off your shoulders now, you won’t be needing it anyway.”

  I glanced over at him and smiled, the same professional smile I’d started off using earlier in the morning. It curved my lips but didn’t reach my eyes.

  Here we go, naked in the bedroom with two men. Just like a couple of hours ago.

  I put the comb I was using back down on the dressing table and raised my hands to my shoulders and just as gradually pulled the thick towelling robe off my shoulders. As my hands dropped, the heavy soft fabric slid down my arms to pool behind me on the seat of the chair. I tugged it clear of my hands and picked up the comb again.

  “I think that’s enough, sweetheart. Just sit still a moment.”

  I looked at my reflection in the mirror and decided my hair was not up to my normal standard but it was what they wanted. I saw both of them put their cameras onto the tripods and aim them at the bed then watched in the mirror as they both went to the head of the bed and turned down the top sheet. This struck me as rather strange until I saw the garment lying in the middle of the bed, which had previously been covered by the sheet. It was one of my white lace nighties. Obviously they had a thing about white today. I mentally catalogued how I looked in it. It was fairly deep cut at the front and showed a lot of cleavage, quite transparent and the length only came down to mid thigh. If I lay curled up in bed my ass and pussy would be visible from behind. It was partially transparent but nowhere near as see through as the blue outfit Owen had chosen on Monday morning for our second shoot. Mind you, there was no sign of any panties to go with it.

  “Been searching through my underwear and lingerie drawers again, you pervert!”

  My bright smile and the trailing giggle took any sting out of my words and Owen didn’t take any offence.

  “Nah, I let Stan do that. He liked rooting through your scanties.”

  “Liar. It was you!”

  “Boys, don’t argue.”

  I giggled again and both of them smiled at me.

  “Put it on please, Leah.”

  I rose gracefully to my feet and padded barefoot across the carpet to the bed. Deliberately going to the same side of the bed as Stan rather than Owen, I leaned provocatively past him to reach for the nightie, putting one knee on the bed to do so. If I’d done that in front of Owen I guarantee he’d have smacked the proffered globes, but Stan remained the gentleman as far as his hands were concerned. I could feel his eyes boring into my nakedness, so he wasn’t being a gentleman with those. Lifting the lace above my head, I wrestled it into the right orientation, knowing my movements were teasing them. I could have been far more circumspect but I felt like being a bit naughty now. I was safe for a while; the video cameras were still off so neither of them would start anything just yet. Pulling the lace down and adjusting the nightie to hang properly didn’t take long either, once past my bust line it was loose and fell into place. I waited for the next instruction. Owen wasted no time.

  “Get into the middle of the bed please, Leah. Lie on your back, but with your legs twisted over to the side a bit, and pull the sheet up over you. We want you to act like you’re asleep when we sneak into the room to surprise you. Okay?”

  Another one of your corny plot ideas then, Owen!

  I shrugged and did as I was told, assuming the position, which wasn’t exactly the most comfortable I could think off, but I knew it displayed my ass and probably my pussy to the video cameras at the foot of the bed. Then I reached down for the sheet which I pulled up to my neck. Laying my head down on the pillow, I peered at Owen through my eyelashes.

  “Like this?”

  “Almost, I think it needs a finishing touch though. Don’t you think so, Stan?”

  “Yeah. Try this please, Leah.”

  I turned my head to see Stan holding out a plain white sleep mask for me, also retrieved from one of my drawers. This time though it was the one I kept our kinkier stuff in, like my toys. I could feel the heat spread to my face as I blushed at the thought of them poking through my secret stash as I showered.

  “Hmm…I’m not sure about this, Owen.”

  “You’ll be fine. You’re safe with us.”

  I could hear the undercurrent of steel in his voice, and knew he was implying do it or else. With a deep sigh of resignation and a whole lot of mental reservations, I pulled the sleep mask over my eyes and adjusted the elastic string around the back of my head, careful to ensure it didn’t snag in my hair.

  “Is that better?”

  “Just about perfect, young lady. Now pretend to be asleep, your head turned to one side slightly, your hands above the sheets. No, I’ve got a better idea. Place your hands on the pillow, one each side of your head but not too close. Good. Toss your head a couple of times to make your hair spread out. Spot on, now relax and pretend to be asleep. You’ll know when it’s time to wake up.”

  I did as I was told, butterflies in my stomach again as I wondered exactly what they were up to. I could hear them moving around but stayed as still as I had been told to, just allowing my breathing to deepen in feigned sleep, enough to cause the sheet to rise and fall over my breasts, to convince the video cameras I really was asleep.

  After a few seconds I heard the two stills camera shutters start to click and realised whatever they had planned would be happening soon. They wouldn’t want too many shots of my unmoving body covered by a sheet, as it was far too demure for their needs. I sensed when they returned to the bed, one on each side.

  “She asleep?”

  “Yeah?”

  Obviously the two of them were talking for the benefit of the cameras and not for my benefit. I resisted the temptation to rip the sleep mask off and yell surprise and lay perfectly still, although it took a lot of willpower. Soon I felt the mattress shift slightly as Stan started to lean onto the bed. The other side followed as Owen mimicked the movement.

  “Now!”

  Owen barked out the command and I felt a strong hand grab each wrist. Before I could react, they’d dragged my arms out to the sides and shackled me to the two corners of the headboard. I hadn’t spotted the handcuffs so they must have prepared them before I entered the room.

  “Wha…?”

  I didn’t get to say anything else as someone’s hand, I think it was Owen’s, reached to my cheeks and held my mouth open while another hand, probably Stan’s, dropped what felt like a table tennis ball between my lips. By the time they were fastening it behind my head I realised it was a ball gag. Suddenly I was helpless, arms tied to the bed, gagged and blindfolded. Last time they had seduced their way into my body, now it was going to be Monday afternoon all over again. Another pretend-forced situation.

  I silently cursed my naivety as I tested my bonds and tried to scream around the gag. Only a muffled grunt came out
past it. The bed moved under me as they both sat on it, one on each side of me as I continued to twist and thrash around in an attempt to get free.

  I felt a strong hand holding my shoulder, firmly, but not so tight it hurt. I felt someone, probably Owen, lean down next to me. Then I felt something cold, long, narrow and definitely metal press across the bare skin. I froze as I realised it was more than likely a knife. Now I wasn’t just frightened anymore, or angry at being tricked. I was petrified—absolutely terrified.

  “I suggest you stop kicking and moving around now, little Missy. I think you would be very wise to lie very still. You can’t get out of those handcuffs and since you can’t take off the mask without your hands you can’t see us or see what we’re doing. If you co-operate and don’t struggle, I promise we won’t mark that precious little body of yours and we’ll even try to make sure you get some pleasure out of what we’re about to do to you. Do you understand?”

  My lips were dry and I couldn’t lick them, but I recognised Owen’s voice and knew he was the one holding the knife and talking to me. His dialogue was aimed at the video camera and I was able to relax, just a little. I realised they were waiting for some kind of reaction from me so I gave an exaggerated nod, my eyes still wide open behind the mask, unable to see what was happening.

  “Good girl. Now, Missy, if I take the knife away from your pretty flesh will you continue to do as you’re told?”

  I nodded again.

  “Don’t forget, Missy, the knife isn’t far away. I can pick it up again in a split second and if I do you will definitely get hurt. You don’t want that, do you, Missy?”

  I shook my head from side to side. I didn’t actually think Owen would do so anyway, but deep down that primeval fear of being overpowered and held at knifepoint had been triggered and my senses were reeling.

  “Now I suggest you lay very still, Missy. We’re going to pull the sheet down and take a peek at the goodies it’s currently covering. Lay still.”