by Bridy McAvoy
He chuckled, a throaty sound that seemed to reverberate into her soul.
“Now, lean forward and press those nice tits into the window for me.”
Kayla winced—he was straight into the crudeness, no attempt to set her at her ease and no attempt to warm her up gently, either. Nevertheless, she leaned forward and pressed her chest to the window. Although it didn’t seem like it would look like much with the dress there, once she lost that layer of clothing it would look obscene, just as it had to have done in the shower sequence a couple of weeks earlier.
“Stick that ass back toward me…go on, really stick it out.”
She closed her eyes and tried not to think too much about what he was doing behind her.
“Spread your arms out, keep your palms pressed against the glass, and turn your head toward the camera. I can see you’ve closed your eyes to think your own naughty thoughts so keep them closed but, believe me, whatever naughty thoughts you can think of, the reality is going to be far sexier, far sluttier.”
She shuddered again but kept her eyes tightly closed as she felt him step close, his hands moving to rest on her butt.
“Comfortable?”
“Er…No.”
“Heehee. I don’t want you to be comfortable—I want you to be turned the fuck on!”
One of his hands dipped lower, moving to the junction of her thighs, pushing the dress and panties against her mound. She gasped, shuddering again as he started rubbing at her.
“Spread your legs a bit more…give me some the room to finger-fuck you properly.”
She licked her lips then cursed under her breath as the camera fired at that moment, capturing her open mouth and protruding tongue as if it was some lewd gesture of her own. His rough manual stimulation was nothing like Brad’s soft caresses, but her body was reacting the same, still carrying the memory of what he’d done to her. She panted for breath and moved her feet outward, knowing she was giving him the access to her slit that he demanded.
He pushed his body up to hers, bending around the curve of her spine as he pushed one finger, still shrouded in her clothes, between her lips. His mouth found her ear, sucking at the lobe before speaking to her again.
“You’re wet, slut! Very wet—wet enough so there’s no resistance to my finger. You want a cock instead?”
She shook her head…well, half-shook her head, given the glass was in the way.
“I don’t think this picture looks right from out there, you know. I think we need to change it, although not the position. Remember the position and stand upright, put your arms by your side. It’s time to let the fox see the rabbit or, in this case, let the fingers see the tits and cunt!”
He yanked the dress zip down violently as she stood upright and lowered her arms. He wasn’t gentle as he flicked the shoulder straps off, so the dress fell to her waist. She was surprised it hadn’t ripped, but that wouldn’t have been her problem—she was sure Chris could have switched costume on her one way or another for the other two guys.
Steve pushed at her back, forcing her body against the window glass. Now only her bra lay in between her breasts and the transparent barrier between her and the other photographers.
“Arms back in position…Push your ass back.”
She flattened her hands against the glass at shoulder height well away from her body and closed her eyes once more to shut out the humiliating sight of the others standing a few feet in front of her, cameras raised, clicking away as Steve manhandled her. The shame came from her own body’s responses, pre-conditioned by Brad but still hard to fathom why such rough treatment was turning her on.
She panted for breath as he got hold of the dress and pulled it sharply down her legs, then immediately followed suit with her panties, exposing her pussy to the cameras outside in close-up detail. She gasped, raising one foot at a time to step out of them and, when he nudged against the inside of her thighs, spread her feet apart once more. The translucent bra, sandwiched between her breasts and the glass, was now the only thing covering any part of her modesty. The garter belt, stockings and heels didn’t count—they didn’t cover anything.
He smacked her butt check. “Stick this toward me, honey…keep those tits mashed against the glass.”
As she complied, his fingers found their way between her legs again and, unlike with Brad a little while earlier, now they had unrestricted access—he wasn’t in any way gentle. She felt him moving around behind her, the angle of his fingers changing as he did something behind her, but she couldn’t see what.
He speared his middle finger into her, his other fingers lying along her pussy lips, playing with the wetness he found there, spreading it onto her skin. Her hips bucked against him, despite her mind wishing to suppress any response.
“Hmm…The little slut likes that, doesn’t she? I think you like being mistreated, don’t you?”
“No!”
He chuckled, the sound echoing around the room like the villain in a Hollywood B movie. “You’d like something more than a finger in there, wouldn’t you?”
She tried to shake her head but the glass was in the way. She tried to push herself away from the glass but his hand caught her in the middle of her back, pinning her in place. There was something in his hand, something cold and wet, and the realization hit—it was her panties. He’d obviously bent down to pick them up off the floor—the reason she’d sensed him moving behind her.
“Am I right?”
“No!”
He laughed even louder this time. “Don’t worry, honey, the only time my zipper is coming down is if you decide to pull it down yourself. Those are the rules. If I get to fuck you tonight it’ll be because you instigated it. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to do my damnedest to get you to start it, of course. Sorry, it won’t be a cock filling you, just yet…not even a fake one…it’ll be something else.”
His hand left her back and she stayed still as he introduced a second finger into her, spreading them apart as they entered her to the first knuckle, spreading her pussy open in the process. She risked a glance outside to see the vague outlines of the guys. They’d dropped to their knees, shooting upward, not wanting to miss one detail of her degradation at the hands of Steve.
Hands it was, too, both of them now touching her pussy, and something wet, cold and clammy, too.
She realized it was her panties—he’d had them in his hand when he’d stopped her straightening up, but she couldn’t work out what he was doing. Perplexed, she opened her mouth to ask him when his actions answered her. Her eyes flew wide open in shock as, using one finger of his other hand, he pushed the panties up in between the fingers holding her open.
“Umphh!”
She couldn’t stop the grunt as he withdrew his finger, leaving the panties there—she could feel them hanging against her inner thigh. His finger moved upward again, pushing a bit more of the fabric into her—a sensation she’d never felt, never even thought about feeling, but she was feeling it now. The already damp garment soaked up the juices in her pussy like a sponge and still he kept pushing it in. Her pussy continued to lubricate itself, too, as they were pushed higher and higher between the folds of her labia, deeper and deeper into her pussy.
It was a very strange sensation, too. Even fingers were hard compared to this, let alone Ben’s cock or any of the vibrators she’d used or, as of last week, had been used on her. It wasn’t unpleasant but it was strange the way the fabric molded itself to the walls of her vagina, filling up every contour rather than bulling its way in. Each time he thrust a finger into her he pushed more of the fabric inside, stuffing her pussy with the garment. She could no longer feel the rest of it dangling against her thigh, so guessed he’d completed the process.
He removed his hands from her pussy and left her standing there, panting, feeling full. Running his hands over her ass, he leaned in toward the back of her neck once more. The men outside were watching and couldn’t hear but he whispered anyway.
“Lower your
hands to your pussy and play with your clit. But don’t finger-fuck your own cunt, baby. I want you to cum for me…Cum for me.”
She brought her hands in toward herself, sliding them across the cold glass and lowering them to her sides, then across the front of her thighs, once more aware of how she looked from the other side of the door.
“Faster, baby…faster.”
Smack!
“Ow!”
This time he hadn’t given her ass a playful swipe—t had been a real resounding blow on her right cheek that stung and smarted. Her hands darted in between her thighs and the glass to land on her mound. The fingers on her left hand splayed her pussy wide open as her right index finger sought and found her clit, started to circle it then pinched it between her finger and thumb. She moaned, anticipating another blow.
Slap!
She worked harder as he returned to her right cheek.
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
He was alternating between cheeks—right…left…right…left…as he continued to spank her. He was hitting her quite hard but she could tell he was capable of hitting harder. Knowing her only chance of release from his torment was the same as the release from the sexual tension building in her body, she worked harder still on her clit. The little hardened piece of flesh responded to her ministrations and, every time he spanked her, the balled up panties inside her shifted in unpredictable patterns, forcing more and more lubrication from her already drenched pussy.
Slap!
Smack!
Slap!
She groaned and her hips churned as she sought the elusive orgasm, then screamed as the climax rolled through her system, her body thrusting hard against the glass as her legs trembled and threatened to give way. Behind her Steve chuckled and she guessed stepped back, having forced her to the orgasm he’d wanted her to wring from her own body for his perverted lust.
“You did good, baby…Well good.”
She pushed her hands, both sets of fingers wet from her own juices, against the glass and stood up, then blanched as she saw the smears her wet fingers left on the glass.
He caught her arm and spun her round so she was leaning back against the glass.
“You done good, but we’re not done yet.”
Her eyes widened in shock, feeling his fingers reaching between her legs as his weight pinned her naked body to the glass. When he started to pull and she felt the balled up garment start to slip out of her, she guessed he’d left one of the straps of the tiny garment hanging down to make it easy to retrieve, and he retrieved them now. Her pussy expelled them in a rush and she felt empty down there—a danger sign given the obvious erection Steve was pressing against her belly.
She shook her head and tried not to look into his eyes but couldn’t tear her gaze away from his face.
“Open up, sweetie.”
Kayla stared at him, unsure what he meant as his hands rose to press against the glass either side of her head. She could smell the juices soaking through the panties he held in his right hand so close to her face. She was sure he could smell them, too.
“Open your mouth, baby. There’s a good slut.”
There was only one reason he could want her to do that, and she didn’t think he would. His left hand moved and pinched her cheeks and she opened her mouth in reflex staring in horror as his right hand moved so quick she didn’t have time to react, and stuffed the balled up panties into her mouth. She gagged and fought to hold down the nausea as he pushed her lips closed and grinned into her eyes.
“Umph!”
She tried to speak but the nauseating mess filled her mouth. Her juices leaking into her mouth. She’d tasted herself before, when she’d gone down on Ben after making love, but that had been a mixture of his cum with hers—this was unadulterated and flooded her mouth as her saliva glands went into overdrive. She had only two choices, swallow or drool and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed and he grinned before spinning her round once more to face the window, pushing her chest against the glass, flattening her breasts into obscene red-centered circles against the flat surface. His hands moved—one to hold the back of her head still while the other moved back between her legs, nudging her thighs apart and trailing his fingers along her moist slit once more.
“Open your mouth, sweetie, show them your panties.”
She did so, working her tongue to try and expel the impromptu gag, but that was harder than she thought it would be. She kept working at it, feeling the soggy mass touch her chin as part of it slipped out. She had more space now and she continued to work at it, unable to use her hands as he finger-fucked her once more. The combination of sensations overwhelmed her and she tried to prevent another climax surging through her system as he thrust all four fingers in and out of her as fast as he could. The panties slid clear of her mouth as the orgasm reached its peak, but only slid down to her chest, trapped above her flattened breasts.
Her shuddering and trembling slowed and stopped as she panted for breath once more and Steve withdrew his hand from her pussy and stood back. She pushed against the glass to bring herself upright and, as she did so, the glass door slid open and Chris stepped in. She was vaguely aware of Steve moving over to the side and dismounting the camera that had captured every intimate detail of his degradation of her. She shot him a venomous look then turned her glare to Chris who simply smiled.
“They were great images, sweetie. You were fantastic. I think I almost came in my pants when you turned round with those panties in your mouth.”
“You’re both bastards, you know that!”
She heard the two men laugh, and the other three laugh from outside.
“No, sweetie, we’re just men, that’s all.”
She moved to the side and twisted to check the reflection of her back in one of the mirrors. Her ass was a bright pink—not red but definitely pink.
“That’d better have fucking faded before I go home.”
Steve chuckled. “He doesn’t know where I live, so I’m sure you’ll explain it satisfactorily.”
She growled at him then looked at the sodden mass that had been her panties. “I’m not wearing them again, either.”
“No worries, I’m sure Steve has got a baggie in his kit he can use to keep his souvenir in.”
“Sure.”
She glared but stood aside so Steve could retrieve them, then pushed past and through the opening to join the other photographers outside.
“Without panties…well, that’ll speed the next shoot up, won’t it? Just put the dress on, sweetie. There’s no point in the bra either, is there? You might as well just do it here—no point in modesty at the moment, is there?”
Chapter 11
Kayla tried glaring at him again but, as usual, there was no appreciable result. Andy came through the narrow opening and started setting his camera up, glancing at her from time to time, but his eyes didn’t dwell on her nude body as he picked up the tripod and moved it to the foot of the bed. She frowned at this but both men ignored her as Chris bent down and retrieved her dress from the floor in front of the ranch doors.
“Time’s wasting, Kayla.”
She pursed her lips then shrugged, watching as Chris’s eyes immediately dropped to her bobbing breasts. He held out her dress and she took it from him, stepping into it and pulling it up, sliding the straps onto her shoulders. Chris stepped behind her, doing up the zip for her as Andy stepped away from his camera and she could hear the shutter click as he, too, had it set up on a timer.
“Let’s get this shoot on the road, shall we?”
Chris’s words floated in from the doorway and she half-turned to see him stepping outside, already sliding the door closed behind him, leaving her alone with Andy in the bedroom. Kayla took a deep breath and tried to smile at the middle-aged man.
“Over here please, Kayla. Can you kneel on the bed facing the camera please, but stay over toward this edge—that way the others can se
e what’s happening, too.”
She nodded and moved over toward the bed, conscious the dress was now the only thing covering her body, protecting her from the camera lens. Given the way the last two shoots had developed she knew that wouldn’t last, and nor would the camera be the biggest problem she’d face.
The bed was on a slightly raised platform and, putting one knee on the bed, stretched her other leg out behind her. Kayla knew this thigh display was going to be captured for posterity by all the photographers. She paused until she heard Andy’s camera shutter click then continued the movement, ending up on all fours facing the camera.
“I meant kneel up, not on all fours.”
“Oh…right, sorry.”
“Por nada.”
Kayla pushed herself upright and smiled into the camera lens.
For the next couple of minutes Andy talked her through pose after pose, running her hands through her hair, clasping her fingers behind her neck, arching her back to push her breasts forward, running her hands seductively down her sides—all the while changing expression from smile, to pout, to licking her lips.
By the time Andy moved to stand next to her instead of next to the camera, Kayla was starting to breathe more heavily from the exertion more than anything else.
“Look at me, please, Kayla. Do you mind if I call you babe?”
“To be honest…yes, I do mind.”
He smiled. “Okay, I’ll call you sugar, then.”
It seemed like this guy was going to be polite, which made a nice change following Steve’s brutal technique.
He climbed onto the bed behind her and swung round so he too was kneeling upright, behind her.
“Put your hands behind your ass, sugar…Good girl. Now stay still while I move a little closer.”
As he carefully shuffled closer, Kayla’s eyes widened. In this position her hands were at the right height for his cock to touch them as he pressed against her back. Trapped between their bodies as her hands would be, there was nothing much she could do about it. She gasped when his hands touched her shoulders, then clasped them and drew her back to touch his upper body.
