Ten Dollars

Author's Foreword—

This is my thirteenth submission to Literotica. You are invited to visit my profile to access the archives for my older postings. Comments are always welcome, as are your votes.

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Ten Dollars

If a girl could get her picture taken by Adrianna Abrams, she's got it made. Ms. Abrams was the best female bondage photographer in the business, but she was also booked six ways from Sunday—a fledgling model like me wouldn't get looked at twice. I met her in Las Vegas eight months ago for just a few moments when I dropped the hint that a few poses shot by her would surely help my career. But she brushed me off. I'm sure she didn't even notice my figure.

I pondered for a long time what to do as I chased down one fruitless lead after another. Having her patented and copyrighted watermark on some test shots of me would put me bunches higher on the pecking order of other young, foxy and starving hopefuls lurking about. So I developed a plan to get the divine Ms. Abrams to notice me. All I would need is ten dollars and an Eagle Scout.

My thought was that an Eagle Scout would know about handling ropes and tying knots since the pitched tents for camping, communing with nature and going potty in the woods. That's not the life for me; I need indoor plumbing, electricity and a cellphone too badly. Still, whatever floats your boat down the river of life, right? Besides, an Eagle Scout would have the ethics and morals to keep my confidence and not violate me while we waited for Ms. Abrams to return to her studio. So I stripped naked as Ernie the Eagle Scout prepared the ropes. "Won't you get cold?" he asked.

"Maybe, but it'll be worth getting Ms. Abrams to notice me."

"When I'm done and I leave, that's it. You're stuck."

"That's what I want."

"What if she doesn't come? You could be here for days."

"She'll come."

I hope

, I added within my thoughts.

Ernie shrugged. I suppose I was just a feather-brained female to him. But he gave me my ten dollars' worth quickly. I sat with my back against a post that had surely seen many a model bound to it, my arms pulled around behind it. My wrists were tightly tied together and the knots were both secure and out of reach of my fumbling fingers. It was a curious sensation. I was trembling with excitement and an elated certainty that I was taking the initiative and making things happen that would be profitable for both her and me.

"Can you get away?" Ernie asked.

I watched Ernie watch me, probably doubting my sanity as I struggled to get free. Boy did I struggle—I wanted to be sure the ropes were as inescapable as Ms. Abrams rigged things for the other bondage models in her Rolodex. "I can't get loose. You did a good job, Ernie."

He nodded and adjusted his crotch; despite being an erstwhile Eagle Scout, he was still eighteen with percolating male chemicals, and I was a naked and bound woman. It was a bit chilly in the studio and my nips were standing tall and proud. I think I remember some kid in a movie calling a woman's nipples "nature's thermometers" or something—I was cold so they stood up to get my attention.

"Thanks," he said, running his eyes all over my body. "Are you sure you want to be left alone?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Should I come back later and check on you?"

"No, but thanks. Ms. Abrams will show up eventually."

"Do you want any other parts of you tied?"

What did I do, awaken an appreciation for naked and helplessly bound women in this kid?

I asked myself. "No, I'm quite secure as I am." I wondered if Ernie would tie me up some more anyway just to increase his hands-on and eyes-on time with me. There wouldn't be anything I could do about it, after all.

"You sure are—" Ernie stopped himself suddenly and cleared his throat. "Uhh… well, goodbye." He headed out the way we came in and I was alone.

It was the damnedest sensation.

Truth be told, I hadn't figured on any sensation at all. My plan was too simple for sensations. Adrianna Abrams was going to find a beautiful, naked, early-twenties woman tied up helpless in her studio. She couldn't help having a good look at me and my figure since everything was hanging out there for her to admire. She'd feel sorry for me as she untied me and I'd press my case to get a few career-boosting test shots before Ms. Abrams was done and I was free once again. Then we'd talk and get to know each other. Simple, right?

Right?

My sensations were simple too; I should have thought of them before. A burglar might break in looking to run off with thousands of dollars of photo equipment and decide to have his way with me instead. Or nobody at all would come and I'd be tied up here all through the long, chilly and dark night. Hell, Adrianna might even call the police on me—I was trespassing, after all. And of course, after awhile I'd need to pee.

Maybe this wasn't such a hot idea. I felt silly but there was no helping that now.

But there was something more, something that was speaking to me like a ghost. I was helpless. A male had rendered me totally helpless. Ernie was only eighteen but he was quite the virile male, and there was something about the way he looked at me! I felt a bit embarrassed to shiver slightly as my honey nest tingled.

Yeah, it surprised me! There was a certain heat between my thighs as my pussy felt excited. In my helplessness and within the resolute cut of the unforgiving ropes around my wrists, I had found arousal. I knew if I had a free hand and probed it around down there, it would come away damp and slinky. When I leaned against my tied arms and looked below, I realized just very uncovered I was.

I couldn't do a thing. I couldn't scratch my nose or massage the smoldering embers betwixt my thighs. I really wasn't me any longer; I was a package awaiting delivery and I wouldn't be me again until I was released. As a kind of confirmation of this and since I didn't have anything else to do, I struggled. I pulled and tugged at my tied hands, I flexed my arms and tried to twist my wrists inside their confining circlet of rope. None of it did any good and, after a few moments, I decided to stop hurting myself and relax. This is exactly what I wanted so what use was there in trying to run away? Despite the line of logic I was telling myself, my wrist ropes had grown to feel awfully tight.

I heard a sound and looked up to see Ernie had returned. He looked at me with that same strange expression he'd had before his departure. I knew a great thankfulness and I was drawing a breath to request my release when he spoke—but not to me. "There she is, Ms. Abrams, just like I said. She gave me ten dollars to help her break in here and rig her up like this."

Feeling shock, I looked toward where Ernie was speaking. Adrianna Abrams was standing there and gazing at me with the same mild contempt I'd seen during our fleeting meeting several months ago. That ratfink bastard had called the divine Ms. Abrams and told her about me and my plan! They surely must've witnessed me wrestling with the ropes.

"You got a bargain, Ernie," she said, her voice cool. "If you care to stay and help, I can raise that ante a helluva lot higher than a measly ten dollars."

"It'd be my pleasure," Ernie sneered, leering at me again. "Literally!"

I was drawing another breath to request my release when they stood me up, tied my ankles and put several ropes around the post behind me and my bare breasts. Adrianna flicked a nervous nipple with an indolent finger and very casually said, "not bad for a few slender silhouettes. I'll use the silly girl while she's here. Thank you, Ernie."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Abrams. I know you've been looking for a young looking clean-cut male model for your bondage photography and I welcome this chance to prove my worth to you."

Fuck!

I thought as I felt the blood drain from my face.

That ratfink bastard set me up for the furtherance of

his own

career!

I requested several times to be released. They ignored me as the somehow-no-longer-divine Ms. Abrams set up her equipment and took light readings. I could see Ernie and Adrianna had plans for me and I wasn't going to be untied. He disappeared for a moment and came back with nothing on but his Eagle Scout kerchief and hat—and a massive hard-on! For the first time I looked at him more closely and realized his eyes were as wise as his ropework and Ms. Abrams' eyes. He looked so young and delicious in his scout uniform; now I saw, however, that he was in his mid-twenties and was as hungry a model as I was. I suddenly felt like a naughty little girl caught doing something bad.

They stood close by, examining my total nakedness appraisingly. "She'll come across better if we keep her tied taut," Adrianna mused.

"Agreed," Ernie said. "She should be as taut as a violin string."

"Have you had the necessary medical exams to be cleared for sex acts?"

It isn't widely known since the consumers of pornography don't give a damn, but actors in the self-policing adult entertainment industry get regular examinations so we don't spread sexual diseases to each other. I remember telling Ms. Abrams of my own clearances months ago—

Now I know how silly a fly feels when he sails into a spider's web under his own power.

Ernie nodded in reply and Adrianna continued, "I'll have you ravish her in some of the sequences." She sounded contemplative, like a housewife telling her bored and beleaguered husband where the new sofa should go. "The hottest stuff will be quite marketable."

I wanted to curl up and die. I wanted a classy series of shots to further my career and I hadn't intended for them to use me like a piece of equipment! They weren't even consulting with me. "Please set me free," I asked mournfully.

"Stop whining," Ms. Abrams said, not even giving me the dignity of looking up from her preparations. "You don't want me to `forget' to use the dulling cream on your rosy buds if I decide to put nipple clamps on you, right?"

I gulped and silenced myself. What the adult industry calls "dulling cream" is a thin creamy fluid put on nipples and vaginal lips that won't show up on camera. It reduces the pain a model must endure for the sake of the photo shoot. Again, few outside the adult entertainment industry know about it since the consumers of pornography don't give a damn. Anyway, I wondered when I was going to heed that old saying,

the best laid plans of mice and men

, or something like that. "I'll behave," I said meekly.

"You do sound more willing," Ms. Abrams whispered. "And I'm glad. It'll keep you shivering."

She was right—I stood there tied and trembling while she directed Ernie through rigging the block and tackle the way she wanted it. I can only presume she plans to use it to hoist me into whatever contorted position should suit her fancy. I dared not complain lest she "forget" the dulling cream; my nipples and pussy lips would howl in heedless protest if I gave her cause to do so. That bastardly turncoat Ernie touched me quite a lot as he roped my nudity this way and that. Sometimes they gagged me, more for the camera than my silence.

Ms. Abrams explained. "We want you to scream if you feel like it. But for now, some nice moans and gasps would fill the bill nicely."

Who were they kidding?! My gasps and moans were

real!

When they suspended me by my wrists or hung me upside-down by my ankles, it was hard to stay mute. I did oblige them with their sound effects, hoping my moans and pleadings would soften their hearts—what a joke that was! They adored every sound an every useless twist I made in my naked bondage.

Ms. Abrams was clever. Every so often she would order Ernie to help her tie me into poses that were truly beautiful and sensuous, displaying me to perfection. She used her camera on these with the same painstaking intensity she employed on the money shots of me semi-pretending to be in agony. I longed to inquire about securing a set of proofs but I dared not interrupt or curtail her concentration—the dulling cream, you understand.

After an eternity, they hauled me down from the suspension shots. I figured they were done, but I surely figured wrong! Ernie bent me over as Ms. Abrams rigged my firm and natural C-cups into some breast bondage. My hooters were snugly bound and pressurized from within; this made my nips stand out like that one famous mountain standing alone in the middle of the Australian outback. Then they worked together to bind me to a bed with my legs spread widely.

Adrianna gave Ernie free reign to use my body as he needed and saw fit. She snapped shot, after shot, after shot of him sticking his erection in my mouth or between my bound boos. I found out that breast bondage could do remarkably great things for a woman—pressurizing them from within makes the nipples quite stiff, but also makes them outrageously sensitive! Just a few moments of him suckling them had me erupting in hard, thrashing multiple orgasms! Meanwhile, Adrianna clicked off shit after shot. I suppose that from now on, it'll be impossible to have an orgasm without hearing a camera's motor winder going off!

Adrianna ordered Ernie to put a ball gag on me and get between my legs while she changed the roll of film. The ratfink bastard complied with great eagerness. My pussy was open and unable to prevent his intrusion; I hadn't intended to get laid, but I guess they have other plans! Once Adrianna was ready, Ernie inserted his thick penis and fucked me with authority. He repeated this as often as they wanted. He was young and virile and it seemed the things he was doing at Ms. Abrams' direction excited him even more. I was just a nude girl standing around for his convenience and he was hard as granite every time. I won't pretend I didn't enjoy the pussy pounding—I did! Damn, he was fine! I provided Adrianna with

plenty

of different moans under his manly ministrations. Ernie did not tire and he fucked me without mercy as Adrianna rushed her camera from place to place to get it all on film. And I'm not just talking about the places where his hard manhood intersected with my soft womanhood. She took a lot of professional care to capture my expressions, ball-gagged and not, so no one would ever mistake the girl who was tied up and writhing against her ropes in not-so-faked ecstasy as she was impaled by a well-hung and lascivious male model whose sexual vigor knew no end.

By the time the day and the photo shoot ended, Ernie had climaxed into my pussy six times! Adrianna had shot off nine rolls of film and I had been rigged into more inescapable bondage positions than I could count. But it was worth it—four days later, I got a check in the mail for eight thousand dollars. Ms. Abrams had given me what I was due despite the fact I'd forgotten to secure a signed model release for her records. Not only had she honored the contract as if I'd signed it, she gave me the proofs I had sought with her studio's watermark on them. A polite letter in with my hard-earned proofs and check asked me to come to her office as soon as possible to sign a contract and model release after the fact. She already had three magazines and two websites interested in some of the 324 shots taken that dat, but she couldn't go forward with the deal until the paperwork was secured. Most importantly of all was the handwritten note scratched onto the letter as a postscript. "Your method of self-recruitment was unorthodox to say the least. But I noticed your spunk. I like spunk, and so does Ernie. We both look forward to using you again." It was signed, "cheers, Adrianna Abrams" and dated.

That was so nice! And it was also nice what that simple postscript did for the advancement of my modeling career—agents and photographers just take one look at it and thrust a contract at me to sign. I'll be forever in debt to the once-again-divine Ms. Adrianna Abrams for what she did for a hungry and aspiring model from the tiny town of Rome City, Indiana.

That was the best ten dollars I had

ever

spent!

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Copyright © 2008 by the author, John W. Adams, Jr. All rights reserved.