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Collected by Djian
update june 4 - 2009

M+/f, slavery, exhib, bnd, BDsm, humil, rough

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Model for Hire
by J Lewis

Prelude

Young, better then good looking, much better, tired of being made to abide by the rules that applies with any normal family, wanting to be on her own, she decides just weeks before her eighteenth birthday to leave home again, with no serious concerns of the consequences. Streetwise to a degree, finding her way to Florida, hooked up with some friends of friends, she’s been shacking up at one of their apartments for awhile. Lying back after spending a day at the beach, flicking through the channels of a cable TV, she gets caught up on one of the reality shows involving a modeling agency. Already in South Florida and working just a few hours a week at a convenience store for some extra cash for the bare necessities, she decides to spend some spare time hitting a few of the agencies in the South Beach area.

Early rejection, being politely turned down, not because of her looks, but height and experience more then anything else, leaving what seems like her forth or fifth agency on the same day; as she’s leaving she’s met by another attractive girl outside an agency. Given a card, an add for another agency just a few miles inland, after a brief discussion she drops it in her purse, heads for the beach to spend the rest of the day. Forgetting about the card for a couple days, watching some more cable, flicking on the reality show she remembers the card, gives it another glance. Calling the number, a few quick questions, she sets up an appointment for the next day. A day that will change her life.

CHAPTER ONE

Glancing at the building in the not so refined location, obviously a low rent district, glancing back at the card, she takes the three steps fronting the door, enters what appears to be a sort of makeshift reception room compared to the other agencies of a few days before. No one at the lone desk with the single fake plant in a plastic pot next to it, wondering if she’s at the right address while glancing down at a few magazines on a wooden tray sandwiched between a pair of cheap looking chairs, the only other furniture, she hears a voice suddenly behind her.

“Can we help you?”

Turning, a thirty-something woman approaching her from another door, kind of attractive, yet too much Florida sun probably having taken its toll on her looks, Jodi holds out the card out, answers. “Ye… Yes I have an appointment for ten… Ten o’clock.

“Really?” She answers as she steps behind the desk, shuffles through a couple papers across the desk calendar. “Jodi?... You must be Jodi Lynn then.”

“Yes… That’s me… I was given this card a few days ago while I was at some other agency… And I……”

“And you were turned down… And you were told of us… And you were given that card.” The woman cuts in, a rambling statement, not a question.

Nodding her head, a fake smile, Jodi adds. “Yeh… Too short… Believe that?”

“What are you hon?... Five…Four?... Five…Five?” The woman asks out of curiosity as she glances her up and down from across the desk.

“Yea… They all said they’re only interested in tall… Taller girls.” Jodi replies with a slight nod.

“Okay… That’s pretty much the way it is… But… We’re a little different then most… Jodi… It is Jodi?”

Shaking her head as the woman’s sitting, appearing to be jotting something on the calendar, she answers. “Yes… Yes it’s Jodi… With an ‘I’.

Glancing up, returning the fake smile, the receptionist smirks. “Jodi with an ‘I’… Okay.” Dropping her pencil, folding her hands on the desk, she looks Jodi straight in the eyes. “Well Jodi… With an ‘I’… What we’re looking for are young, sexy girls… Girls who can model what we specialize in… Look hot doing it.”

“Okay… That’s me!” Jodi nods, arches her back, her halter conforming to her surprisingly large breasts as she spreads her hands apart beside her hips. Running the tip of her tongue across her upper lip she waits for the woman to continue. “And?”

“Well… A couple things.” The woman smiles, appreciating Jodi’s confidence, even her hint of arrogance… “A line of really sexy lingerie for one thing.”

Nodding, again waiting a few moments, a quick shake of the head, Jodi again nods. “Okay… Lingerie?... That’s not a problem… I look good in stuff like that… And the other?”

“Well… Let’s just say the other line is a little more specialized… It actually pays a little better… A lot better actually… And in the right cases not only be financially much more profitable… But something a girl with the right assets can begin almost immediately… Without much training.”

A slight smile, a quick head shake back and forth, Jodi raises her palm straight outward as she speaks. “I’m not a prostitute!... If tha…”

“Hey… Hey!” The woman again butts in. “That’s not what I’m suggesting Jodi!... We don’t do that here!” Standing, shaking her head with a smile, she continues. “What I’m suggesting might not fit what you want to do either… But just a quick look at you and if you look anything like I think you do under that halter and Daisy Dukes… Well… You might be just who we’re looking for to team up with another girl who’s done quite well for herself with us.”

“Okay.” Jodi nods. “Let’s hear it then… What?”

“Fetish.”

“Fetish?... Fetish what?” Jodi asks while rising her hands palms up, just staring at the woman while slowly shaking her head from side to side. “Fetish?”

“Fetish!” The woman replies. “Pays a thousand dollars a night… A cash thousand on the spot… And if you’re really willing to get into it… Up to twenty-five hundred for a show!... Imagine… A single show!... One night!”

Taking a moment to register, hearing the amount of money, knowing there has to be a catch, Jodi tries to think of what to say, ask next. “Okay… What’s the catch?... Naked… What?

“You’re interested now… Huh?” The woman grins as she again begins to scan Jodi up and down. “You’ve obviously got the body for it under those clothes I’d say!... You’re going to have to be looking pretty good for that though!... Raise your halter for me… Just for a moment.”

“Wait… I asked… Semi-nude?... Naked… Whips and chains?... What?” Jodi again asks as she reflexively slides her arms in front of her chest. “What’s the deal… Why my halter off?... I’m right… Huh?””

“Obviously… For that kind of money… Does it matter to you that much?… The more you show… The more you can make…. But then again… It’s mainly fetish wear… At least to start with… And Yes… A few props involved too… Whips and chains, leather, all just props… That’s where the real money’s to be made!” The woman answers in annoying, broken sentences while nodding. “Why you covering up?… You can’t be shy if you want to be a model… And… A couple grand for a few hours… Where else can you make that kind of dough?... If you’ve got the body… And the nerve… Or should I say self assurance… Willing to try things… Well… Like I said… You could be making that kind of money a couple times a week!... So what’s a little skin in front of strangers?... Now… You want to model… Slip that halter up over your head!”

“Naked… Huh?... Just props!... I don’t know!” Jodi barely smiles, more of a smirk as she hesitates, her arms crossed, hands spreading along the sides of her breasts, but holding still.

“Like I said… Might not be for you.” The woman nods, sits back at her desk, pencil in hand begins circling a big ‘O’ on the calendar. “Thanks for stopping in!”

Another hesitation, glancing toward the calendar, the scribbling pencil, thinking of the money being discussed, Jodi stutters. “Wait… Wait… I… I… I didn’t say I wasn’t interested… Wait!” Raising her arms, her hands gripping the sides of the halter she slips it up over her chest stretching her spreading breasts up beneath her chin. Tugging, pulling the halter up past her head, she exposes her youthful but already globular breasts, firm, tanned as they sway, barely bouncing, braless.

Glancing up, holding the pencil still, she again stares Jodi up and down with obvious approval as she’s surprised, expecting a bra had to be holding those jugs up in the halter. “Tell you what Jodi with an ‘I’, let’s get something straight… You want a job… A job making good bucks… Then I don’t need to bullshit you.” Dropping the pencil, still staring at Jodie’s thrust out chest, she continues. Tomorrow night we need a big tittied girl like you for a show… It’s a two girl event.” Crossing her hands, leaning forward while still staring at the thick nipples centered on the dark oval areolas high on Jodi’s firm breasts she continues in an obviously impressed tone. “One of the girls has become indisposed…. Bad for her… Good for you… If… And that’s a big if… If you’re willing to do exactly as you’re told… To follow instructions… To wear what you’re told to wear… Show that God given rack to die for…”

“Wait.” Jodi nods. “Tomorrow ni…”

“Damn-it Jodi!... Let me finish!” She scolds, continuing as she nods toward the door she came out of. “First the agent’s going to have to see you in the back there shortly… Make sure you’re what he wants.” Obviously staring toward Jodi’s still exposed breasts while quickly pointing, she continues. “Just looking at those now… I’m sure they’ll get you the job if you want it… And yes… He’s also going to want to see you bare ass naked!... Now if that’s a problem, then I’m busy and need to make a couple quick calls to get someone else for a replacement who wants to make a grand or two tomorrow night for a few hours of showing her tits… And they certainly ain’t as good as yours!”

Listening, almost feeling scolded yet flattered as she lowers her top, drags the halter back down across her flattening melons, Jodi barely nods as she mutters. “A grand… Or more?... A thousand dollars… And I can make that… Tomorrow?”

That’s what I said… Didn’t I?” She answers in a more pleasant tone, nodding her head. “Now if you’re really interested… Go back there and strip… There’s plenty of hangers in the closet… Remember… If he likes you… And you’re willing to learn on the fly… Flashing a little skin and you’ll realize just how much your life can change overnight with us!”

Thinking of the money, the opportunity, what the Hell, it’s not like no one’s ever seen her naked before, damn, she’s even won a couple wet t-shirt contests almost as a joke, a dare. “Okay… Okay… I’ll do it!”

“Okay then… Get your butt back there and show ‘em what you’ve got going on!... Put on a show and make him want you!” The woman jokes as she grins, again nodding at the door, looking down at the circle she just scratched around Jodi’s name, the quick note (young/ hot perfect for naked/torture) already scribbled below it. Again glancing at Jodi stepping toward the door, the grin fading, she adds. “Don’t worry… As soon as he sees you he’ll know exactly what to do with you!”

The room small, basically empty but at least clean, Jodi strips off her halter, her Levi shorts, drops them on a chair in the corner. Slipping her shoes off, dropping them next to the chair, she slips out of her thong panties and also drops them in the mounting pile on the chair. Flipping her hair back, twisting it in a bun, straightening the pin behind her head, she glances at the full length mirror on the back of the closed door. Glancing around the room, playfully twisting, turning, she cups her breasts, shoves her butt back as she holds a quick classic pose like she’s seen in a Playboy magazine before. Giving the mirror a quick scan, a silly wink, she smiles as she straightens up, pleased with her tanned naked body, feeling she looks every bit as good as any of those girls in those magazines, and, the money she can make with it sure doesn’t hurt either.

“Jodi… Lynn?”

Turning, reflexively covering her breasts, she stares straight at the man in the open doorway as she lowers her eyes, mutters. “Sor… Sorry… I didn’t hear the door opening.”

“Oh… that’s fine.” He smiles, already getting his full view of her. “Go ahead… Raise your arms above your head and turn around… Let’s see another pose as good as that first one.”

Blushing, slowly raising her arms, she turns half a turn, stops. Facing away from him, thinking how gorgeous he is, dark, tall and handsome, he could be a model himself, she hides her grin as she somehow feels excited more then embarrassed. His tone of voice obviously pleased, she feels kind of proud; after all, these people have seen who knows how many naked bodies before. Sucking in her tummy, letting her butt jaunt back a tad, she arches her shoulders, lets her rack, as the woman called them, stand up and spread apart. Glancing down, her back still toward him, she can see her nipples hardening, her areolas shriveling

“Keep going… Let’s see it all.” He states in a matter of fact tone as he sees the side view of her as she again turns a little further, her body posed in a serpentine stance. “What are they?… Thirty fours… Sixes… And I’m guessing at least a big C… Maybe even a D cup?”

Hearing his tone, the level of his voice almost quiet, professional, yet obviously impressed, she completes her turn, glances down at her swaying breasts, the nipples now rock hard as they jiggle. “You mean these?... My breasts?... Yeh… Yes the last bra I bought just the other day was a thirty four D.” Grinning sheepishly, void of almost all embarrassment, actually feeling kind of sexy, almost raunchy from the talk with the woman out front and now being caught in a naked pose by this handsome stranger, she lowers her hands, cups her breasts as she adds. “My last bras were C cups… But they started pinching me… My… You know… My… My boobies…. Th… They’re still kind of … Of growing… Getting kind’a heavy too!” Gently squeezing, another sheepish, tantalizing grin, lowering her eyes, thinking of the money, and actually like the woman said, what’s showing a little skin going to hurt in front of strangers anyway?”

“Okay Jodi.” He again softly speaks as he steps toward her, reaches out. Let’s see… Hands up again… Above your head… And just hold still for a moment.” Palming her left breast as she raises her arms, locks her hands together as she clenches her fingers, he switches to her right, nods. “They’re real!... Damn!… I’d have bet you’d had a boob job… Still growing huh?” Squeezing, playfully bouncing one, then the other, he glances straight into her eyes. “Damn… they are heavy.” Again smiling at her he adds. “Don’t worry… Just checking how firm they are… How we can use them.” Again palming both breasts at the same time, tweaking both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, he stretches, rotates the thick nubs as he again looks her straight in the eyes. “Perfect… Absolutely perfect for what we’re looking for Jodi!”

From excited, to now somewhat confused, actually uncomfortable with the way he’s playing with her breasts, feeling she might have gone to far with her act, she still stands motionless, wanting him to stop, yet feeling her nipples remaining as hard as rocks in his twisting fingers also confusing to her. Slowly lowering her hands, sliding them across the back of his, another sheepish smile across her now blushing face and she mutters. “That… That kind’a hurts… It’s kind’a embarrassing too!... Sorry!”

“Oh… Okay…. I’m sorry too.” Releasing his fingers, smiling back, he steps toward her side, slides his hand across her left butt cheek. “This stuff doesn’t mean anything… Actually it’s like an everyday thing to me… Don’t let it embarrass you, I’m just getting a feel for what your body can handle from our fetish line… Okay?... Like clover clamps… Nipple jewelry… Augmentations.”

“Okay… Okay, go ahead!” She almost moans, feeling his hand sliding down across her butt cheeks, tracing lower between the slit between her legs as she continues to remain still. Soaking in what he just said in his soothing, calm voice, she’s unsure what he meant, augmentations? Tingling inside, her stomach stirring, she nibbles across her lower lip as her nipples continue to reflexively pucker, jiggling on her swaying breasts. Closing her eyes, she accepts his feeling her up, to let his finger slip across her cunt lips as the embarrassment is also actually a little stimulating, just like her nipples, even as she fibbed to him about them hurting.

“We need to check between here too, Jodi.” He almost whispers as he leans his face closer to her ear. “To feel these folds… These lips… To makes sure they can hold some of our fetish implements… Even this.”

Biting down across her lip as her hips jerk, glancing away from him as she feels his fingers pinching the nub of her clit and giving it a gentle tug, her voice changes a couple decibels, her body reflexively twitching. “Oh… Okay… That… That enough?” She stutters in confusement as she turns toward him, cups her breasts, slips her other hand across her responding clit and presses firmly in with her fingers as she brushes his hand away. “What… What do you mean?”

“I think I know just what to do with you… And it’s all going to start tomorrow at noon.” He smiles as he slides his hand away, knowing how she was responding to his touches, knowing that her body was going to be a money pit for him for a long time to come. “You’re now part of the company!... Relax… Be happy… Celebrate tonight!”

“Really!” She somehow finds herself smiling. “I start tomorrow?”

“Yes… A fetish show right off the bat!” He smiles, notices the instant concern on her face. “Hey… don’t worry… You’re just going to be for show… The other girl’s going to be doing all the work.”

Arms still awkwardly covering her nudity, a curious look on her face, she stands silent, not sure what to say next.

“Listen Jodi.” He continues. “Tomorrow at noon, we leave for the club… Just a few hours from here…. We’ve got a limo and a first class motel booked just a couple blocks from the show and we’ll rehearse for a couple hours when the other girl shows up… We’ll get you accustomed to the outfits… Then later that night it’s time for the show.” Again smiling, patting her shoulder, he adds. “Don’t worry… You’ll be the star of the show… I promise… It’s going to change your life!... Now go out there and give her all your information and sign the forms… I promise… No… I guarantee… It’ll change your life… Forever!... Trust me… You’ll agree after tomorrow night!”

CHAPTER TWO

Posing in a brilliant white terrycloth robe on the makeshift podium, arms down to her sides, her hands remain turned palms forward. Fingers nervously twitching, her feet spread on the floor about shoulder width apart in four inch white patent-leather stiletto heels, she can feel the vibration of the makeshift wooden podium beneath her. Just passing her eighteenth birthday, she feels it now, the concern real, not so carefree kid stuff, actually ominous. Having been getting into adult clubs for the past couple years on her looks, she’s never been in one anything like this place. It’s certainly not like the one’s with the wet t-shirt contests.

The room dimmed in shadows around her, the walls heavily curtained, the atmosphere reeks of cigarette smoke, liquor, and mixed with the musty hardly ever cleaned iron trusses partially covered with aging asbestos supporting the corrugated metal roof just a few feet above her head, the room’s stifling. A lone temporary hanging light shinning down from a rafter just above the stage starkly illuminates the aged brick wall behind her as the accumulating early patrons find the few seats; the rest standing against the other walls, the punkish music slowly de-escalating in the background.

Staring straight ahead, waiting for the ‘fetish’ theme exhibition to begin, she feels the dampness on her palms, under her arms as her nervous doubts linger in her mind. Thinking of how she was just recruited yesterday by the so called modeling agency, this being her initial gig her nervousness is far from more then just first time jitters, especially with the other girl still a no-show, where the Hell is she anyway? Having entered the building through its side entrance in the dark alley to the back of the stage, now having seen the shadowy outlines of the patrons, the heavily BDSM theme of the club on the inside, she feels the pit of her stomach churning, her heart beating just a little more rapidly as she finds herself wearing the other girl’s outfits, ominously told she had to take her place. Even more, she wonders how she can be paid the kind of money promised from a place like this, this hole in the wall.

The music off, an eerie quite filtering across the room, just the occasional whisper, cough from the shadows of the collecting crowd and she senses being approached from her left. Given a brief but intense run through for the assignment at the motel room earlier in the afternoon by her ‘handler’ she was introduced to by the agent, she remains rigid, stoic as she takes a deep breath, her heart pounding. Finally time, the exhibition’s beginning, but now with her being the lone female performer. The podium flexing as her hooded, bare-chested handler steps up, the stark plywood sags, springs under her spiked heels. His hand spreading across her left shoulder followed by one across her right surrounds her strictly slicked back hair affixed behind her head in a tight bun. Remaining in her fixed pose, she unexpectedly senses another person approaching from her other side, also bare-chested and hooded for the bondage theme. Stepping onto the platform, it again flexes under her feet.

Staring straight ahead, nervously nibbling on her lower lip as she feels the robe’s tie being unwrapped, she feels the white terrycloth being slipped down off her shoulders. Only her handler having rehearsed with her with the other girl not showing up, this second person wasn’t mentioned, but even as she’s apprehensive she still keeps to her script, remains rigid, preys for the best. The sleeves sliding back off her arms she feels the mugginess of the damp room across her bare flesh not covered by the white leather micro-thong bikini, especially the nearly perfect symmetrical mounds of her proud breasts.

Hearing the noticeable murmur rippling through the shadowed group, her tanned body contrasts with the almost brilliant white of what shinning leather there is covering just the minimum of her nearly nude body. Taking a deep breath before staring out into the darkness of the far wall, she glances down toward her firm breasts drawing their attention, jaunting naturally upwards and outwards, the overflowing mounds heaving with each nervous breath. The hem of the bikini meant for the other girl too small, barely covering her oval shaped areolas; she can make out the nubs of her hard nipples silhouetted through the stretching leather. Feeling her restricted breasts pressing against the tight leather, catching the glimpses of light reflecting off the rounded upper curves of her shimmering melons, she hears the murmurs escalating, mixing with a couple of off color catcalls. Raising her eyes to stare straight ahead, she watches as the shadowy room seems to be filling a little more from the couple of curtained entrances of the other parts of the building.

The exhibition continuing, her left hand’s gripped, tugged behind her back as she feels the leather cuff being slipped around and adjusted before secured tightly around her wrist. Right hand gripped next, again tugged behind her back, she feels that matching cuff adjusted, clamped shut just as in rehearsal. Her hands being pressed together, her shoulders arch back, her breasts thrusting outward pressing against, stretching the taut leather flattening across her chest. Struggling to keep her balance as the wooden platform sways beneath her, her ankles slip closer together as her spiked heels click across the bare plywood. The sudden harshness of her handlers, the tightness of her bondage surprises her; at the motel room it seemed so much gentler.

Staring out into the darkness, taking her handler’s advice doing their rehearsal by fixating on the far wall, picking out a focal point, here a flickering neon beer sign, she tries to ignore the mounting comments, whistles as her nearly naked body contorts above the growing crowd. Feeling leather straps slipping up across her shoulders, her hands, arms being slipped into a supple black leather casing, she senses the bottom of the bondage garment tightening around her fingers, hands, again much harsher, even a little painful.

Both men still behind her, one holding her arms, the other adjusting the straps, tightening the sleeve upward behind her back, each tug, each tightening strap forces her arms closer together, her shoulders to continuously draw backwards, slowly arch behind her neck. Up her forearms to her elbows, the straps tighten. Crossing up over her elbows, forcing them to press together, she feels her shoulders begin to burn from the forced pain, senses the slightest creaking sound of her collarbone as she feels her feet twisting, scraping the rough wood beneath the spiked heels. Taking deeper breaths, wanting this part of the exhibition to end, she still tries to focus into the darkness above the swelling crowd.

Head and neck being pressed forward next; her chin’s almost forced down across her sternum as she alarmingly watches the outlines of her dark areolas lifting above the contrasting bikini’s hem. Breasts separating, spreading across her chest as the stretching leather flattens her quivering melons, she grunts with each new binding, each painful jerk of the leather straps as she struggle to keep her nipples concealed.

The straps becoming harder to tighten halfway past her elbows, the other man holds her shoulders from behind, presses inward as he leans against her shoulder. “Oomph!” Her first grunt, the first breaking of silence on her part as she’s sure her collarbone’s cracking, or at the least, her shoulder’s separating. Turning her head, glancing nervously behind her, her grunts seem meaningless to either one.

Another jerk, another strap tightened, she again grunts as her left nipple presses completely out above her bikini, the hem of the leather sinking into her bulging tit flesh. The room filling as the patrons close in on the platform, humiliated, she tries to stare over them through her welling tears, toward the blurring red neon in the background, knowing the group’s ogling her bare breast, her nearly naked contortions.

“Oomph!” Another painful jerk, she again grunts as her arms sting, becomes momentarily numb. Jerked around, feeling herself being lifted back, pulled upright by the bondage sleeve, she stumbles as she feels both breasts flipping out over the stretching bikini as the room becomes instantly louder. The harsh music also being turned up, almost vibrating the walls, disturbed dust in the rafters filters down across the stage.

The room filling, gruff patrons pressing now within just a few feet in front of the platform, most clad in what she can make out in the hazy light as leather and chains, she realizes they’re all men, some also bare-chested but all wearing some sort of leather. The murmurs escalating to a constant buzz with the music, they’re mixed with whistles, more obscene catcalls. Turning her head frantically toward her handler, tears welling, streaming down her cheeks, his cold, harsh expression beneath the partial hood sends chills up her spine as he holds a bright red ball gag up in his hand. Her head tugged back, the ball-gag’s jammed across her lips from behind. Her heart pounding in her chest, she feels a hand from behind pressing against, squeezing her cheeks, forcing the hard rubber between her teeth. Panicking, realizing this didn’t happen in rehearsal, grunting, twisting, her grunts are stifled below the constant rowdy sounds filling the dark, almost angry sounding room.

Biting into the gag, twisting her head, she feels the back strap of her bikini top being twisted by someone below the stage. Jerked around across her breasts, the back roughly unsnapped from beneath the bondage sleeve, her breasts flail as she’s twisted around, catches a glimpse of the reflecting white material is it’s tossed above the heads of the collecting group in front of the platform. Twisted around again, forced to embarrassingly face the crowd, her breasts bounce, sway beneath her chin, saliva already drooling from the ball-gag streaming off her chin, sticking to her bare flesh.

A scuffle out on the darkened floor, a fight for the top half of her bikini, the crowd grows even louder, rowdier. Hands reaching, groping for her bare breasts from out in front, she grunts, twists on the platform, her heels twisting, scraping across the splintered plywood surface springing beneath the weight.

Again catching the unsympathetic look on her handler’s face, feeling her thong being jerked downward from behind by someone on the floor, ripped off her left thigh, twisted and torn away from her right knee and she horrifyingly realizes she’s completely naked, her body totally exposed to the building crowd out surrounding the front of the platform. Another roar, more shouting, another group’s fighting for her thong, scuffling in the center of the agitated throng.

Terrified, humiliated, she twists away, turns her back to the crowd as she tries to shield her nakedness against the back of the stage, get away from this insane ordeal. Grabbed by her handler by her arched shoulders, twisted back around as her thrust out breasts scrape against the wall, she’s forced to face the floor, the scores of raucous men watching her every move, ogling her naked body, fighting for her clothing.

Feeling her handler’s face press against her ear, she can barely hear him over the den of noise. “Bear with us… Give ‘em what they want!... Follow my lead, hear me?” Shouting into her ear, he repeats. “I said… Hear me?… Or do you want gang-raped and torn apart by those animals out there!... Forget what you thought was going to happen tonight… They want to see you hurt!... We need to give them a show!... We have too!”

Terrified, she watches him stepping in front of her as the other man holds her tightly from behind. Holding his hands up the handler faces the crowd. Watching him whistling, waving his arms while addressing the mob, stepping back and forth across the edge of the platform, bending down toward one of the bouncers by the side of the stage, yelling instructions into his ear, she’s forced to bare her nakedness, face the unruly group with her bare breasts thrust obscenely outward from her arched shoulders.

The music cutting off, the handler still waving his arms, again whistling for the crowd to give him their attention, most of the group somewhat calms down as the rowdiness de-escalates. Still a few obscene catcalls, some shouting back and forth, finally quiet enough for him to address them.

“Okay!... Okay!... Okay!” He shouts, waving his hands each time, lowering his voice just a little each time.

Turning toward her, having the other man nudge her forward, he grips the back of the bondage sleeve with his right hand and forces her to stand on the edge of the platform. Raising his left hand, waiting for the room to quiet down a bit more, he finally speaks.

“Okay!... Now… Let’s get on with what you all come here for!... Let’s get ready to give this big tittied little girl here one Hell of a workout!”

More whistles, catcalls, again he raises his hand as he lowers his head. Waiting for the noise to again become more of a murmur, he again addresses the group. “We brought this girl here to have her model some bondage gear for you all… While we tortured the other girl!... But Damn!… She didn’t show up!” He continues as he nods toward her globular breasts, down toward her bare vagina. “Now… If… And I say If… You give us a chance.” He again scans the audience, his hand still in the air as the crowd begins to quiet down. “We can alter the show and switch to some real S and M with this one…. And it’s her first time too… We’ll give her a Hell of a workout in front of you guys if you let us… Okay?”

A loud approval, more catcalls, clapping, he glances down, leans toward her and away from the jeering crowd. “Now bear with me… A little workout across those tits of yours… Some across your butt… And we can get you out of here in one piece… It’s going to hurt… A lot!... But you can leave here in one piece if you’re lucky!... Understand?”

Wide eyed, staring back into his eyes, saliva drooling down off the ball-gag, she feels her body trembling, her breasts quivering as she grunts, shakes her head back and forth in disbelief. Feeling her arms gripped by the other man, positioned directly on the very edge of the front of the platform, she feels the grip tighten, holding her still.

Her handler stepping to the back of the stage picks up one of the ‘props’ similar to a leather barber’s strap. Stepping to her left, allowing a few feet between them, he raises it toward the crowd, points toward her breasts. Raising his free hand for silence, he waits, addresses the room. “Now… Now… Now give me some quiet.” He instructs as he lets the end of the wide strap flick off the edge of the podium. “Give me some quiet so you can hear the leather across her bare flesh… Hear her responses as we work her tits for you!… Okay?” Waiting for silence, even for the murmurs to quiet down, he positions himself, draws the thick strap back in his clenched fist.

Glancing toward the tip of the sinister leather being dragged across the plywood floor, glancing up toward her handler’s face, she can feel her chest thumping, her heart pounding as her glistening breasts quiver out above the edge of the platform. Feeling her back bowed even further back as the bondage sleeve’s twisted from behind, her breasts thrust even further out as her eyes catch the strap flexing almost in slow motion through the air, curling, twisting horizontally above the heads of the crowd closest to the stage.

Horrified, surreally watching the thick supple leather curling toward her, the shadowy room seeming even darker as the surrounding onlookers seem to fade into the darkness, the room becoming deathly silent to her, she can’t help following the snaking tanned leather as it stretches out, smacks across, sinks across her uplifted nipples quivering on her bare breasts.

“Thwaaackk!”

Following, watching the curling dull leather striking, disappearing into her flattening tit flesh, smashing into her bare breasts, the sound resonating, echoing across the room as her nipples stretch inward under the coarse rawhide, she seems to hesitate, almost suspended in time as the leather adheres to her naked flesh, her mind for a split second confused as to why there’s no pain.

“Aaaaggghhhhhhh!” Screaming into the ball gag, clamping down on it with her clenching teeth, the jolting pain suddenly rips through her breasts, her searing nipples. Jerking, twisting, her breasts flail across her chest as the leather curls, drops away, a wide, bright red welt connecting both bruised nipples left standing out across her firm globes.

Held upright by the bondage sleeve, her knees on the verge of buckling, the feeling’s of a red hot poker being smacked across her breasts. Gasping for breath, tears streaking off her cheeks, she feels herself being tugged backwards, positioned under a swaying rope looped up over a beam. The rope crisscrossed through the shoulder straps of the leather sleeve, she feels herself being lifted, hoisted upwards. Straightening, standing on the balls of her feet in the stilettos, finally forced to tiptoe as the rope’s jerked tighter and secured, she stands facing the crowd, her pain wracked bruised breasts swaying free in front of her.

She frantically notices the other man positioning himself to her right as he too grips a whip in his fist, not a strap, but a willowy, flexing riding crop. Glaring back and forth from one to the other, seeing their arms curling back, her heels sliding, grinding across the floor, she closes her eyes, braces herself as the room again becomes virtually silent.

“Smack!” The curling strap flattens across her navel. “Oomph!” Bowing forward, the breath’s knocked from her stomach as spittle flicks from the red ball gag. “Thwack!” The springing crop flicks across the bottoms of her flailing breasts. “Aaaggghhh!!!” Screaming through the ball gag as the crop buries itself into her tit flesh, her punished body spinning toward her right; the flat strap quickly follows, curling downward toward her butt cheeks. “Smack!” Her hips flex forward again as her grunts are drowned out by the escalating noise. “Thwack!” Her naked body twists yet again as the crop immediately slashes downward across her contorting breasts, red welts instantly rising horizontally across her chest as her tormenters just warming up, gives her a brief moment to recoup.

The hesitation just momentary as her glistening body shudders, twists under the stretching rope, the assault’s intensity picks up. “Smack!... Thwack!... Smack!......... Thwack!... Thwack……… Smack!” The background noise escalating, the echoes of the leather implements resounding across the room, her body jerks, twists, bows forward, backwards as the leather dances across her bare flesh, overwhelmingly across her thrust out breasts, the bruising nipples. “Thwack!... Smack!... Smack!... Thwack… Smack!... Thwack!” Another rapid set of lashings, her breasts first, then butt cheeks followed by back and forth, back and forth across her discolored tit flesh.

Slumping forward, coughing, gagging on the glistening ball-gag, the pain pierces her chest, her perfect breasts pounding, pulsing with thin red welts, purplish flat bruises while her stomach hollows under her ribcage as she struggles to breathe. The crowd pressing closer, shoving toward the stage, the flogging ceases, if just for a short respite. The handler stepping toward her, handing his strap to the other man, grips her hair, jerks her head up as he leans closer, rasps in her ear. “We’re just getting warmed up.” Gripping a swollen breast, he adds. “Before we’re done with these tonight… They’ll be twice their normal size!... Ready for more?... It’s going to be a long night for you!”

Eyes glazed, swollen, she stares up into his face, her nostrils flaring with each rasping breath. Hardly able to shake her head, her twisted body tensing, wrenched in pain, her slobbering whimpers is ignored as he glances toward the other man, retrieves his strap as he almost shouts over the crowd’s noise to him. “Grab a leg… Tie one up over her head with another rope so we can spread her pussy, work on her cunt for awhile… Then we’ll get back to those big ‘ol titties to wrap it up!”

Glancing back toward the far side of the stage, the door to the exit next to the alley, he sees the trio entering together past the security doorman, the agent with his secretary and the no-show girl, the same girl who passed out the card to Jodi Lynn. Leaving the limo out in the alley, they’re just in time, the warm up’s over. In another hour, the show will be over; their new star kept in her fetish gear will be taking a ride to her new residence with a well equipped cell. She’ll be administered to for an even harsher exhibition in the coming weekend for a group of older wealthy and ruthless lesbians who pay well for young meat. This little show is certainly a nice introduction to her new life, just like her new agent promised she’d have.

End Chapter 2

MODEL FOR HIRE

Chapter Three

Having been forced onto the floor of the limo, she’s bent over face down across the carpet, the ‘O’ ring on the bottom of the bondage sleeve stretched awkwardly up and behind her back to the clothes-hook between the passenger side doors, off to the side of the other occupants. Her aching breasts flattening beneath her, her bruised nipples scrape back and forth with the motion of the winding road, the long trip to her new home as her bare buttocks jaunts upwards, her spread thighs exposing the leather’s stripes crisscrossing her most sensitive, now bruised and puffy flesh. Over a two hour agonizing drive and she feels the car finally entering the private gravel drive. A little rougher as the car navigates with an occasional bounce, she sways by her numbing arms, her breasts pressed, dragged across the floor even harsher until finally the limo again rolls onto a solid surface, turns into the garage.

The bright glare of the overhead lamp in the garage is blinding as she defensively twists on her side, turns away from the door of the limo as its jerked opened. Gripped by the bondage sleeve, dragged out onto the concrete floor, she’s forced to stand on her bare feet. Still bound, ball- gagged, her aching body’s exposed to the light, front and back equally bruised and welted from the lashings from the couple hour fetish exhibition. Her handler and the agent gripping her by either side lead her through the doorway to a flight of stairs. Forced through the first open entrance on the left, into a dark room, she hears the door ominously slamming behind her as she stumbles against the bed.

Falling across the white sheets head first, rolling on her side toward the wall, she squirms into a fetal position as just the faintest of shadows reflect around her. Bruised, aching, arms virtually numb from their continuous bindings in the leather sleeve, the entire past day or so flashes through her mind. From the time of the then exciting limo drive to the motel in the early afternoon, to being forced across the same limo’s floor after her torturous treatment at the bondage club, she’s terrified to think what else could possibly be in store for her.

Hours seeming to agonizingly pass by, her eyes adjusting to the original darkness of the room, it now just seems dimly lit as she continues to wait curled on the bed, to suffer from the pains of her lashings, the continuous ache of the binding bondage sleeve. Occasionally glancing around the virtually silent room, her head remaining on the pillow with her saliva drooling from the gag spreading ever wider, she listens, stares into the shadows, her heart pounding in her chest as she waits.

Even more time passing as the pain keeps barely awake, exhausted, the torturous contortion of her arms, shoulders becoming an accustomed ache, the light flashes on from the ceiling, again glaring into her swollen eyes. Jerking against the wall, twisting face down, she hears the door open, feels her arms being dragged back as she’s tugged off the bed, falling across the carpeted floor face first on her flattening breasts.

“Jodi!... Jodi Lynn!.. Wake up!”

The voice in the background familiar, that of the agent, her abused breasts pulsing as they gruffly scrape across the harsh carpet, she grunts, reflexively kicks her legs as she’s hoisted up onto her feet.

“Wake up… Jodi… Jodi!”

The same voice as she feels the light smacks back and forth across the face, followed by her frayed hair jerked back behind her twisting neck. A painful grunt, the saliva streaks off the red ball-gag, drools across her swollen discolored breasts. Barely able to see clearly, glancing around at the group filling the room, she recognizes all four, the pairs of men and women.

Held by the back of the bondage sleeve by the handler, the secretary and girl who gave her the card standing on either side of the supposed agent in front of her, she feels her shoulders thrust back, her bruised breasts forced to thrust outward.

“They took a good workout… Didn’t they?” The agent smiles, cupping one, then the other.

Feeling him gripping both, twisting, squeezing the aching mounds, she grunts through the gag, lowers her eyes to actually take a hard look at the bruising, the welts marring her abused breasts. Swollen, discolored their still forced to jaunt firmly out off her chest as he playfully slaps, smacks them back and forth, glances at the others standing around him.

“Yes… For over an hour of damn, how many lashings?” He inquisitively asks the handler as he looks past her flushed face, over her shoulder. “And look how resilient they are!” A couple more smacks, letting them bounce, sway out n front of her, again melding, squeezing, puffing the bruised nipples outward, he glances toward his secretary. “We’ve only got what three… I think three days… right?”

“Yeh… Then it’s a trip up the coast fro her.” She nods. “To the women’s club having a little get-together… I already confirmed the booking.”

Glancing toward the other girl while still gripping Jodi’s melons, he grins. “There’s certainly something to be said for the resiliency of firm young titties… Huh?”

Smiling back, slipping her hands up across her blouse, cupping her own substantial breasts, a quick nod and the girl quips. “Damn… I don’t know!... I don’t think mine would look that good after what those went though last night… Ouch!”

Listening to the group discussing her, her breasts, joking, it all seems so surreal, like she should be waking up from a nightmare. Each twist, each squeeze a burning, a searing pain in her chest, she chews into the fraying ball-gag, hides her grunts as they continue.

“Okay then.” He turns, drops his hands while addressing the two women. “Get her cleaned up… Plenty of salve for her tits, cunt too… We need to get her recuperation underway… Get those welts, bruises down to a minimum.” Glancing toward the handler, he adds with a smile. “Those old coyotes won’t mind a little wear and tear on her… But they’ll certainly want to leave their own stamp on those big fresh titties… You know how they are if we want to rent her out to them again!” Again turning toward the younger girl, he quips. “Remember how they were with you the first couple times?”

“Do I!” She nods, again gripping her own breasts. “I couldn’t wear any of my bras for a days!”

“Okay… I’ve got things to do… Take good care of her.” He orders the women as he nods toward the handler to follow him, then adding as an after thought. “Oh… Then go over her contract with her… Let her know the basic particulars of what’s expected.”

Shutting the door behind the men as they exit, the secretary steps beside Jodi, cups a butt cheek with one hand, a bruised breast with another. “Well Jodi… With an ‘I’, I told you that your world would change!... Didn’t I?”

The girl stepping to Jodi’s other side also smiles as she practically whispers. “Yeh… aren’t you glad I followed you around a couple of those other agencies and hooked you up?” Slipping her hand around Jodi’s other breast, gently tugging the nipple, she glances toward the secretary, asks. “May I lead her?”

“Sure… You know the way, and you’ve certainly learned how with as many times as I’ve led you.” She answers with a smile.

Her nipple twisted, lifted upwards, Jodi’s forced to tiptoe as she again grunts into the ball-gag, gingerly follows the girl across the room to a closed door. Waiting as the secretary steps past and opens it, glancing in as the light’s flicked on, she’s surprised by the gleaming white marble tile bathroom. Massive tub, gold trimmed frosted glass oversized shower stall, the room’s impressive.

Nipple released as she’s turned to face the shower stall, she feels her arms manipulated by the secretary, the bondage sleeve almost thoughtfully adjusted, loosened as she watches the girl strip in front of her, step into the shower and adjust the shower’s multi heads. Feeling the straps across her shoulders unfastened, her arched back shoulders finally allowed to straighten, her arms achingly spread as the sleeve’s stripped slowly apart behind her upper back. Both arms basically numb for hours, the tingling almost immediately turns into a prickling sensation, escalating to needle stings, bee stings as the straps are systematically unsnapped and loosened from the top down, one after the other. The sleeve finally slipped away, her arms hang limply toward her sides, the sensation returning, much too painful to move.

The shower steaming with the girl under the multi showerheads bathing herself, she watches, feels her mouth gag being undone, the strap painfully peeled from each side of her face, the roughly chewed red ball pried from her teeth, her stretching jaws.

“Remain silent… Not a word Jodi!” The woman’s voice, calm, almost polite. “We’re going to clean you up… Enjoy it… Actually believe it or not, you can enjoy the next three days if you cooperate.

Feeling the bobby pins removed from her frayed, scraggly hair, now completely naked but able to finally freely stand, her arms still burn as she feels a hand on the small of her back gently nudging her toward the open shower door, in and under the different sprays still cascading down across the other girl’s naked body.

“Remember… Not a word… Or this again!” The secretary smiles as she holds up the tattered ball-gag, shuts the glass door as she adds. “Now we don’t want that… Do we?... Enjoy your catered shower.”

Feeling a wet hand gliding across the small of her back, a thick wet coral sponge on her hip, she remains motionless, appreciating the steaming water soaking her abused breasts as medicated soap spreads across her bare flesh from the circling sponge, instantly soothing her aches. Hair drenched, eyes closed, she feels the water splashing across her face, in her mouth, her nostrils, the sponge slipping up across her shoulder blades, across her neck. Her wrist softly tugged back, her body twisting, she soaks in the spurts of water spraying, pulsing across her chest and backside from different directions.

“Keep your eyes closed.” She hears the girl’s voice gentle, even friendly while almost eager. “Mouth too!”

Feeling the sopping sponge swiping across her forehead, her nose and mouth, she presses her lips together, her jaws still sore, aching. The sponge slipping down across her chin, her neck, between her breasts, she feels a hand cupping her tender left melon, softly, carefully lifting it as the sponge caressingly drifts back and forth across the nipple, beneath and around the entire mound. Released to gently bounce, she feels her other breast just as gently palmed, the sponge pressing a little firmer, the soap squeezing streaking down her bare stomach from that caressed melon as its lifted, cleansed.

The steaming water relaxing, the medicated sponge caressing, the fingers softly massaging, she feels her knees weakening, the long sleepless, painful hours taking its toll as the soothing sponge bath regenerates her bruised body even as the hot soapy water makes her even drowsier. Again gently turned toward the shower heads, the sponge again filled with soap, it’s pressed across her hip, slipped around just below her flexing bellybutton. Slid down across her bald pubic mound, the streaming flow of soap leads the soft compressing sponge between her thighs as she reflexively parts her legs, feels the pressure of the sponge being squeezed, pressed across her bruised labia folds, across her swollen clit, a corner of the sponge spreading between the stretching lips of her vagina as she barely tiptoes, softly moans.

The thoughts of last night’s flogging crosses her mind as her bare flesh is manipulated, the harshness of the whips used across her breasts brutal, but thankfully only the flat leather strap used between her thighs, across her bare vagina with her leg spread and tied high above her shoulder. She momentarily feels almost thankful, realizes the soreness, the swelling between her legs could also be angry welts across that most tender flesh caused from the whip used across her breasts.

Eyes still closed to the cascading water, the sponge caressing her thighs, she feels her left arm being led upward, held firm for a moment by her wrist. The sponge again massaging her pubic mound, her vagina, she feels her other arm lifted upwards, her wrists pressed together. Her head tugged gently back by her soaked hair, the water splashing across her face, she keeps her hands up, locking her fingers as she feels the sensation of a finger drifting down the middle of her back, gliding across her butt cheek, circling her rectum, the sponge continuously gliding back and forth between her thighs, crisscrossing her clit, the medication soothing, stimulating.

The sponge dropped, sliding between her feet, the hands slipped away from her bare flesh, she feels almost stoic while facing the continuous cascade of steaming water as her body rinses off. A brief moment, feeling hands again touching, gliding across her from behind, massaging her lower back, her shoulders, up to both sides of her neck, back down across her armpits, her body sways as fingers glide around the sides of her globular melons, smoothing a salve lotion across both simultaneously. Melding, squeezing, lifting and spreading, her aching breasts tingle in the caressing hands as she again quietly moans through the water splashing across her spreading lips.

Glancing down across her chest, barely parting her eyelids as water streaks across her face she blinks, blinks again as she watches her bruised nipples thicken between the soothing fingers, her breasts tugged apart, flattened against her breastbone, massaged by the girl behind her. Gently pushed forward, she surprisingly feels the girl’s own bare breasts pressing against, flattening against her back.

Again her thoughts drift in her surreal state of mind, from tortured to caressed in just a matter of a few hours. As her arms sway above her head, her mind’s overwhelmed with emotion, her breasts being soothed instead of flogged, the girl’s naked body pressing against hers, the girl’s firm breasts flattening, circling against her bare back. With the sleep deprivation, the hours of torture, she wonders if she’s hallucinating, dreaming.

The hands again rising, sliding up the outsides of her wrists, she feels her arms guided, lowered to her sides as she’s gently twisted, turned to face the girl. Of equal height, the girl’s breasts not quite as large but just as firm, she feels the girl’s stomach also press against hers, the girl’s arms circle, pull her firmly forward, the shower pulsing across her back. Nipples to nipples, breasts flattening together, Jodi feel the girl’s hands sliding downward, gripping her butt cheeks, pressing their pubic mounds together. The sensation almost overwhelming, for the first time feeling a woman’s breasts, not to mention against her own, and pubic mound to pubic mound, she follows the girl’s lead, allows the caressing to continue, actually beginning to respond to it as her nipples harden, her clit tingling.

Eyes still closed, she feels the girl’s tongue slipping up across her neck, her chin, across her mouth, probing, parting her lips. Water streaking across her face, the taste of the girl’s wet mouth against hers; she allows the girl’s tongue to slip across hers, press into her mouth. Rising her own arms, no longer tingling, feeling the girl’s back, shoulders in her hands, pressing her hips forward, feeling the hardness of their breasts pressing together, she lets her tongue meld with the other, her parted lips press against the girls drenched parted lips.

The pain’s all but forgotten from the flogging, even her breasts, still welted but now a bearable ache at the most. Being past fatigued, barely functioning except by reflex, she goes with the flow, allows her first lesbian experience to continue uninhibitedly. Hips flexing, thighs pressing together, the girl manipulating her own leg, presses it caringly between Jodi’s spreading legs. Feeling the gentle pressure against her clit as it stretches back and forth on the girl’s thigh, mouths still pressed together, tongues still twisting, probing the other’s lips; she again feels the girl’s hands hoisting her arms upward, against the shower stall, up to the spurting shower flow. Still kissing, she feels the girl’s fingers wrap her hands around the shower head as their lips part.

Rasping for breath, the water still streaking down her face, cascading across her still parted lips, she blinkingly follows the top of the girl’s head downward, the girl’s tongue lapping the water between her breasts as the manipulating hands grip her breasts, tugs outward. The sensation across her belly button as it flexes from the lapping tongue causes her stomach to ripple as she again allows herself to softly moan. Continuing to feel the tongue licking across her pubic mound as her stomach hollows, flattens, her chest arches outward with her breasts stretching in the manipulating hands. The top of the girl’s head waist high and slowly bobbing, she feels the tongue sliding between her drenched thighs, between her soaked cunt lips, flick across her engorging clit, still sore but responding to the incredibly satisfying stimulation.

Gripping the shower head in her clenching fists as the back of her head presses against the soaked shower tile, her body arches outward as her hips reflexively flinch. Her knees trembling with each flick of the girl’s tongue, she shakes her head back and forth as she feels the mounting surge deep inside her womb. Nipples tweaked and tugged, clit gently bit, sucked on simultaneously, her body spasms, her pubic mound pushing against the girl’s face, the moans becoming groans and grunts as she struggles to keep her grip on the slick shower head. Her rasping voice raises, barely audible above the surge of the water.

The shower door opening, the water’s cascade an immediate dribble, Jodi grudgingly blinks blurry eyed through the steam toward the secretary. The girl standing up, handed a towel by the secretary, Jodi continues to grip the showerhead with her thighs still trembling, her nipples hard on her still swaying breasts as her weight presses against the wet surface.

“Time to dry off Jodi… Done with the shower… And whatever else!” The woman knowingly smiles as she reaches out, begins swabbing the thick white terrycloth towel across Jodi’s bare breasts. “Hold still.” Swiping back and forth, wiping her legs, stomach, shoulders, she grips an arm, tugs the clenching hand from the shower head as she pinches Jodi’s right nipple and orders. “Come with me.” Led back to the bedroom by her clamped nipple, to the bed, she’s guided to sit on it.

“Sit… Hold still!” The secretary orders as she holds a chocker collar in her hand. “Let’s get this adjusted around your neck.” Fastening the black leather collar, aligning it, she shows Jodi the pair of matching wrist cuffs. “Sorry… But to start with we have to make you wear these Jodi.” Left wrist first, right second, she leans behind Jodi and crisscrosses her arms. Fastening the cuff’s clips to the collar’s eyelets, Jodi’s breasts again are forced to thrust outward, her back bowed. “Not quite as bad as the single sleeve…. But you still won’t be able to play with yourself.”

The girl stepping up while still drying her own hair with the thick towel, she smiles. “Damn near had you an orgasm… Huh girl?” Stepping toward the dresser mirror, finishing drying off, she again steps toward Jodi. “Maybe next time… Then again maybe you’ll want to return the favor and it’ll be your turn to go down on me next time.”

Patting the bedspread, the secretary slips the contract across the bed, unfolds it. “We can go over this… Make sure you know what’s expected of you after you get some rest… Like we said… The next three days can actually be rather enjoyable… If you cooperate you can lose those cuffs… And you might even be allowed to cum!”

Standing, rolling the papers back up in her hand while motioning to the other girl, they leave Jodi alone; flipping the light switch as they shut the door behind them, the deadbolts clicking shut. Arms again secured behind her, but not nearly as painful as the bondage sleeve, she rolls on her side facing the wall, her naked, cleansed body both aching and yet soothed. Eyes closing, not having listened much too either woman, exhausted, her legs curl, press together, her stomach still tingling as she slowly grinds one thigh across the other, moans.

End part 3

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