"Hey Suzie?"
"Y-yes Paul?"
How about you take that nightie off so we only have you in panties and heels? The camera will be able to focus more on those lovely hard nipples and those dirty great big tits of yours."
"Oh I-I don't know..."
"I think you really want to. Don't you want to see those sexy tits in all their glory in the photos? Plus you really do seem to be enjoying yourself. Of course if you want to stop I respect your wishes, you can throw your clothes on and head home, I'll work through the shots we've got and send you my bill."
Somehow the mere thought of stopping filled me disappointment. Actually more than that it was almost like panic. "No, no, please I don't want to stop yet. OK I will take my top off, keep shooting, I want you to see my...my...BIG FUCKING TITS!" Shit, what was happening to me? I couldn't believe I said that out loud. But goddamn was I turned on, my panties were nearly soaked through. Paul hadn't commented on this but he had to have seen it. Hell, he probably had 100 photos of it.
So off came my nightie and there I was in dripping wet panties and white high heels. Paul moved me into various positions on the couch. There were shots of me from behind with my bottom ("fat ass", he had me calling it after a while) in the air, my legs spread, holding my heels, pinching my nipples, licking my big fucking tits, you name it, we did it. Well I did it, he just told me what to do and I meekly obliged, all the while getting wetter and wetter, more and more turned on to the point where I was almost hovering on the edge of an orgasm, all this without him touching me once, and with my panties still on.
I was so turned on I was sort of cooing, moaning and gasping with each new position. I was ashamed of myself but somehow found myself enjoying being held in the psychological and sexual grip of this man, and reducing myself from a mature and sophisticated 40 year old woman to a wanton and compliant little girl. Then, things got really out of hand.
Suddenly Paul stopped taking pictures and started staring at the couch.
"Oh, Suzie, you naughty girl, what have you done to my couch?
I followed his gaze to the spot where he was looking and I could see what he was talking about. My wetness had seeped through my panties and stained a couple of spots on the couch where I had been sitting. No surprise really, but Paul seemed quite horrified.
"Fucking hell Suzie, that is a new couch and it wasn't cheap. I can't believe you did that. How could you be so unprofessional? Do you think top glamour models allow themselves to become so caught up that they let their pussies drool all over the furniture? You really are a bit of a slut aren't you?"
I was mortified. I wanted so much to please Paul that I couldn't stand the thought of him being disappointed. I thought I was doing a good job as a model, how wrong I was! He was right, it was so unprofessional of me to get turned on when all he was doing was taking shots of me that I asked him to take! I really was a slut, how else could I explain my behaviour, especially for a married woman.
Paul just stood there, staring at the couch, as if he didn't know what to do next. I waited for him to say something else. After a while he did. "OK I'll tell you what. I have another professional model that I work with. If you agree to do some work with him now it will save me hiring another female model. This means that I will save money, which means I won't have to charge you $8000 for that couch. I'll even throw in your pics for free."
It was a lot to take in at once. I wanted to redeem myself and please Paul, but couldn't quite latch on to what he was asking me to do, particularly in my highly aroused and ashamed state. "Sorry, you want me to do what...?"
Paul's tone suddenly intensified. "Listen, I'll make it simple for you. You have just ruined an $8000 couch -- you don't just shampoo cum out of it. You've come in here wanting me to take pictures of you, to be honest you've been difficult to work with, I've had to give you a lot of instruction, you've been churlish about the language I've used, you've waved your big fucking cow udders around, you've rubbed your fat ass on my couch, you've grunted and moaned like a fucking bitch on heat. By rights I should be charging you $8000 and kicking you out on your ass. So I'm offering you a chance to help me with another photo shoot, which means more pictures for you, no charge for the couch and your original pictures for free. I'm sick of being nice about this so that's my offer, take it or leave it."
"O-Oh my god Paul I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen...I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry. Yes OK I will help you, please don't be mad at me..."
Paul seemed to visibly calm down. Thank goodness I had another chance to prove myself.
Then all of a sudden he picked up the phone. He dialled a number and only said two words: "Got one". Then he hung up. "Ummm...Paul?"
"Yes Suzie?" He was smiling again, and this smile wasn't quite as warm as the previous one.
"What happens now?"
"My professional model will be here soon and we will continue your photo shoot. I'm assuming that you've never worked with another model before given your lack of experience and professionalism?"
Ow that stung. "N-no I haven't."
"Well can you take instruction?"
"Yes Paul" I was really quite hurt now and desperate to get back in his good books. "Well then you have nothing to worry about. He'll be here in five minutes. In the interim you can continue to play with your udders while I take some more shots."
I felt an intense heat of shame burn in me as he called my big fucking tits "udders". But somewhere deep inside me it also turned me on in a way that is very hard to explain. Somehow the humiliation of being treated like this only fuelled my arousal more, which seemed to open me up for more shameful treatment. I should have argued. I should have protested. I should have walked out there and then. But no, I sat there, wet pussy and hard nipples.
And played with my udders.
Around this time I noticed that Paul had stopped taking photos and was instead standing behind an expensive looking video camera. As I tweaked my nipples and squeezed my tits somewhere deep in the fog of my highly aroused mind I remember thinking "that can't be good".
Presently there was a knock on the door. Paul greeted someone (I couldn't see who), and then they both walked over to where I was on the couch, knees apart, heels on, tits in hands, panties soaked through, couch stained.
"Suzie, this is Joel. Say hi to Joel, Suzie"
"H-Hi Joel". Joel was a very impressive looking guy. He would have been about 6'2", was wearing a tight t shirt and jeans. He was a lot younger than me, looked about 25, and had close cropped brown hair and brown eyes. I could tell even from under his shirt that he spent a lot of time in the gym, as he had a very toned and muscular frame. Hot would be the only word to describe him.
"Joel, say hi to Suzie"
"Hi Slut"
Paul chuckled while my cheeks burned with shame. "Joel is a professional model who will be working with you. Your role will be to take instruction and do as you are asked so I can get some great shots. If you do well you can consider your debt wiped. Does that make sense, Suzie?"
"Yes Paul".
"Great, you can start by getting your hands off your tits, if you think you can stop playing with yourself for five seconds." Chuckling again. "Joel, go to work".
Paul jumped behind the camera again. I wasn't sure what "go to work" meant but I soon found out. Without further ado, Joel walked up to me and said "stand up"
I stood up.
"Take my shirt off"
I hesitated for just a second, which brought a sharp reprimand. "Take the fucking shirt off bitch." I started to protest, thought better of it, and raised Joel's shirt above his head. As I suspected, he was ripped. I started to trace my nails down Joel's finely muscled torso, but he was having none of it.
"Sit down"
I did. Joel dropped his jeans to reveal no underwear, but a fully erect cock which sprang to life as his jeans dropped. It must have been all of 8 inches long, and was thick. Joel then sat down next to me, his cock sitting up proudly. I didn't know what was going to happen next, things were moving very fast indeed and I thought I was going to die from either arousal or humiliation. So I just stared at that massive prong and waited. Suddenly Paul spoke.
"Suzie. I'm going to ask you a few questions before I continue the shoot, just so we all know where we stand, is that OK?"
"Y-yes Paul, anything.."
"Good girl. Now Suzie, I want you to repeat after me...'I have been a bad girl'"
"I-I have been a bad girl"
"I have messed Paul's couch"...oh the shame!
"I have messed Pauls' couch"
"I am a filthy little slut"
"Oh Paul...but that's not.."
"Now Suzie, we all know you're a filthy little slut otherwise why would your slut pussy have drooled all over your panties and then my couch when I was simply taking a few photos?"
That was very hard to argue with..."I-I am a filthy little slut."