Total Woman Vignettes 04A

Prologue

Augustina was first to depart. After Ned's inventive tutorial in garage calendar art, she had contacted TWA to see if they could arrange similar industrial modelling opportunities. Acting as her business agent, they had indeed secured keen interest in her talents. After a final full day and night of Ned's exclusive tune-ups, she had flown off to another island for the scheduled photography gig with a major industrial tool manufacturer. Everyone wished her luck and said they would be on the lookout for her future published portfolios gracing the walls of their local mechanic's shop.

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Present Day

Augustina, aka 'Gus', looked herself over in the mirror one last time. The cosmetics crew had again earned their titles of 'makeup maestros'. She was the epitome of glamour: hair, makeup, nails, everything was perfect.

She stood up from the beautician's chair; photo flashes popping and handheld movie cameras whirring. Her every move this week was being recorded. The photo crew numbered a dozen; the additional support staff dozens more. Gus was the star of the show and the engine of revenue that paid their salaries. They showed their due respect for her beauty, boldness and market appeal.

The TWA booking agents had negotiated a sweetheart deal with the tool manufacturer's ad agency. The weeklong shoots would generate multiple streams of revenue. Her take was a substantial flat fee shared with TWA plus percentages of the sales to be solely hers. The mass market G- and M-rated bikini calendars were destined to grace garage and machine shop walls worldwide. The 'behind the scenes' infomercial videos were designed to advertise the calendars in the mass media outlets: TV and internet.

Limited editions of topless R-rated calendars would be available in select outlets. Gus would get the industry standard percentage for the G and M sales; triple that for the R-rated transactions. A handy sum but not enough to meet her financial goals.

Gus's big payday would come from the after-hours X-rated materials. She would produce bedroom stills and videos parodying the daily shoots. She would split those profits fifty-fifty against all other business participants.

Her contract stipulated that she could choose her partners from a portfolio of stud-worthy male models. That had been her first strategic task upon reaching the island. Selecting a subset from the photo arrays, she had reviewed the nude lineup of the finalists. After visual and tactile examinations, she picked the three beefiest gym rats with the biggest Speedo-packing packages. She intended to get the most from the encounters.

The first day's shoot involved machine shop tools. In the morning, she posed in a bright yellow string bikini with a variety of air and electric drills. Her big boobs, cheery smile and long blonde tresses might distract focus from the implements but that still kept male customer eyes on the poster longer than a tool picture alone. And that was okay. The brand name would still pop to mind every time the viewer saw another woman elsewhere that looked like her.

She held the tools aloft from humble missionary position and leaned into seated down cleavage poses with a varied collection arrayed between her golden toned legs. The doggy shots included her huddled over a set of reciprocating saws with the power cables wrapped like bondage around her sexy body. The producers staged suggestive outtakes where she quipped to the camera about the tools' potential as mighty sex toys.

In the afternoon, she repeated the entire sequence topless. After her makeup re-preening and the added nipple highlights, her selected male model joined her, adding his Speedo clad macho presence. She divvied the focus of her smoldering expressions of desire between the tools and her attending model. At the end of the day, she was tired from the difficult stances but enthused by the extended proximity to the buff manly stud.

As the sun went down, she scheduled some spa time to recoup her energy. The deep muscle massage and hot tub soak brought her back to life. Dressed in a dynamite cocktail dress, she dined with today's photo companion, getting comfortable with him before their more intimate companionship soon to come. The ever present camera crews kept their distance, filming the quixotic interchange from a discrete distance in the reserved dining room.

Pushing aside her crumb speckled dessert plate, Gus rose and extended her lithe arm to her table mate. They exited hand-in-hand for the waiting studio scene.

Her deal specified that no crew would be present during the bedroom scenes. Instead, a dozen tiny video cameras were mounted about the space, remotely manipulated and monitored by the studio staff in an adjoining control room. Two tiny cameras were mounted on opposing bed corners, placed to capture penetration and 'money shots'. The couple could explore impulsive vibes without the distraction of a live audience.

Gus appreciated her photo-mate's obvious desire as they carefully disrobed each other. He had seen her almost naked but gently stripping your lover is uniquely passionate: the touching, the cooperative assistance, the expressions of admiration for coyly revealed skin. It was almost sad to finally be completed naked together.

Rather than play with real machinery, Gus wanted her man to show her personally how a power reamer worked. He lay on her prone body, gripped her ass cheeks and reamed his erect man tool through her vaginal tunnel. She found it pleasant and let him ream her into a hard orgasm. He didn't cum, so when she asked him to demonstrate the workings of a reciprocating saw, he was ready to oblige. He slid up her body, wedging his cock into her mammary crevasse, and sawed his aroused meat between her cuddling boobs. She gleefully took his cum on her face.

They rested. Gus said she could handle one more if he could. She let her partner pick his favorite piece of gear. He decided on drill press.

Swinging his hips over her upper body, he gripped her head and held it steady below his dangling cock and balls. She formed the obligatory oral opening and his erection descended and entered her face. He set the pace, up and down, up and down, a steady oscillation, deeper and deeper until his ball sack slapped her chin at the bottom of each stroke. She synchronized her breaths with the transitory airway blockages, careful not to interfere with his rhythm.

He howled and she swallowed. The goo which didn't squirt directly in her throat trickled down her tongue, unabated against gravity. The multiple cameras caught it all, or as much as was visible. The edited frames of X-rated action would surely be a bestselling adult video. The production company blessed its luck and guesstimated their share of the loot.

The second day was an exhibition of chain and rope, with the accessory clamps and fasteners. Gus wore bright red this time, though there wasn't very much that she wore. The string bikini was hardly there. Most of the shots were doggy pose with metal fittings supported on her back or chains and cables draped over her torso. The afternoon shots were not exactly topless; she wore a decorative chain-mesh vest, a wide open net that still exposed much of her figure. Her model partner kneeled up behind her, his filled Speedo pressed tight against her ass, pulling on the mesh like a fisherman hauling his netted mermaid into his boat.

After her wonderful spa and another delicious dinner, her second day's model and sex mate accompanied her to the camera equipped private studio. The undressing was just as sensual as the night before. In keeping with the day theme, Gus re-donned the silver chain-mesh body casing. An assortment of addition jewelry was waiting on a side table. She invited her mate to be inventive in his further ornamentation of her body.

Being a typical male, his first choice, of course, was the uninspiring nipple chains. She watched him install the cliché fetters, noting an unusual feature. He had picked two short lengths with clips at both ends. Executing his preparation duty, he got her nips hard with tongue flicks and rolling fingers. The clips were just right: not pinching too uncomfortably but secure enough to hold against a mild pull. The silver links dangled from her tits, a good start. He needed more pieces for a complete body adornment.

He chose another pair of dual clip chains and affixed them to each of her cunt lips. His remaining choices were pure embellishment: multi-strand ear baubles, a woven metal choker necklace, single filament bracelets and anklets. Lastly came the Egyptian style mesh hair drape, lengthy metal strands joining her long blonde tresses in a adorning her shoulders. All her silver strands sparkled when she moved in the low lit room.

He gave her a helping hand to mount the sheeted mattress and assume a wide knee doggy pose. More chains were drooped across her prone calves, her waist and her wrists. He clipped their ends to puckered folds of the taut sheets, creating a light bond, tying her in place.

The hanging nipple and pussy chains were fastened down last; they just barely dangled to the sheets. He shortened their length before clipping them down. The stretched sheets created a pulling sensation that tingled her distinctively feminine places. The tingles turned to sharp prickles if she moved an iota. The man had locked Gus's stance.

The first involuntary prickles occurred when her mate crawled up behind her. The shifting mattress pulled the chains. He man positioned himself at her ass. He used one hand to aim his erection and the other to hold her hip as he settled the tip at her moist nether slit. He pressed in, encasing the knob. Despite his steadying hand holding her hip, she angled forward. Her sudden intake of breath indicated the sharp bite of the taut chains. She re-adjusted her stance and locked her limps and torso, preparing for more pressure.

The man was uncaring. Gus had specifically chosen this lucrative rough sex scene and he would play his expected part, gaining whatever personal pleasure he could muster in the process. He grabbed her hips and powered in.

Gus failed to maintain her rigid pose. She cried out at the double stretch: her tits and cunt extended by the chains, her inner tunnel inflated by the mighty man muscle cramming her core. It was sorrow and sweetness combined. The dichotomous sensations continued as he gave her the benefit of his length and girth, a series of long and slow powerful thrusts.

The brawny model was well into his rise when he heard her weeping, her head hung in anguish. He decided to give his chain-bound fuck toy a short break while he switched ends. Kneeling at her head, his fingers tilted up her chin. Her wet eyes looked in his and the tear-smudged makeup gave him a renewed rush. He brushed her lips with a thumb, pressing the lower one down and open. His cock tip bumped against it and she acknowledged his gesture, parting her lips. He pressed inside her opened orifice and resumed the long slow thrusts interrupted by the repositioning.

Gus no longer felt the chain clips; her abused tissues had gone numb. She was only aware of the meaty shaft spearing her tonsils. He held her head high, tilting it back uncomfortably. She regulated her breaths, timing them around the outtakes of the long rod penetrating her throat again and again. The meat probe thickened and she felt the liquid pulses spout into her oral cavity. She met the challenge of breathing and swallowing between the cadenced intrusions as her partner took his protracted pleasure from her tormented body.

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Gus reposed naked afterward, her equally naked partner mounted up sidesaddle, his hips snuggled between her legs, his cock erect and ready at the entrance to her cunt. This second scene was a much better coupling pose.

When the rough sex session ended, her day long selected mate had tenderly removed her restraints and bonds. Even the fetish mesh slip and headdress lay on the floor beside the bed. She still wore the more glamourous pieces; the traditional jewelry made her feel feminine again after her stint as a fetish pain slut.

They lay together, his cock head poking at but not penetrating her pussy. She rubbed his back and broad shoulders, palmed his cheeks and kissed his lips. For his part, he was still the archetypical breast man. It was not an act; he was obsessed with thumbing her nipples, kneading and caressing her boobs. The sting of the clamps had dissipated; she favored this gentler boob treatment.

She wiggled her pussy against his knob, signaling her desire for him to enter her. He pushed and pulled in short surges, slithering the full distance. His thick prick caressed her fleshy inner walls all the way to her cervix, giving her the full feeling she sought. It felt good for both.

Gus lay quiescent, enjoying the sensation of throbbing fullness, letting her studio underling do the work. He had done a good job today and had continued his hard work into the night. Past his head, the bedpost mounted camera blinked its little red light, indicating it was recording. She heard the quiet whir of the many servomotors, panning and zooming the other remote-controlled cameras. The studio operators were filming multiple angles and close ups. The raw footage would be edited into profitable porn videos; the best sellers were always the intense scenes like the one earlier this evening. In exchange for the transient torment, she would garner half the profits, a tolerable trade on an occasional basis.

Gus let the warm feelings of financial growth fade back to make room for the warm feelings of emotional growth building in her body. Her tummy tingled in anticipation of her pending rapture. She nuzzled her man's face, pecking kisses on his lips. She felt his hands move, one to her hip, one around her back, drawing her tight to his groin. He bumped their pubic mounds together hard, lighting up her clitoris. She went rigid and panted through open mouth, adding autonomic hip jogs. Her orgasm rocketed out of her groin, ricocheted off her toes and crash landed back in her brain.

Her cock wielding cum master encircled her body in a breast squashing hug, seeking his own erotic amusement during her chest vibrating ecstasy. She crushed his neck in a bear hug as her body revved down to a breathy calm.

She swooned in afterglow, hardly noticing as he stroked inside her cunt until he achieved his own flow of pleasure. They rested still embraced until he was no longer stiff inside her. She rolled over to her other side, pressing her warm ass into his sticky groin. She felt his arms and hands carry on with his compulsive tit play as she drifted off to sleep.

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The third day's theme was woodworking tools: saws, sanders, routers, hammers, cutting blades, nails, screws, the whole works. The machines and hardware were photographed arrayed around, laid across, held aloft and venerated by her bikini clad, and then topless, physique. Another late afternoon spa massage and the comforting soak rounded out her day shift.

She arrived late to the dining room where her selected model of the day was already seated. There was no modesty in her evening attire. She wore a loose translucent sleeper slip, scooped low across her breasts, the hem high on her thighs, barely covering her pudenda. It covered her torso but did not conceal it, the nearly transparent fabric hiding nothing.

It didn't matter. This man had seen everything her body had to offer during the photo sessions... well, almost everything.

Her final partner rose and greeted her with a bouquet of roses, the blood red lusty color reflecting his... well... lust for her. Even more so now that he saw her evening wear, or lack thereof. She thought the flowers a nice touch, gentleman-like, almost romantic. She hoped his mellow manners persisted. She had liked this model the best and had accordingly saved the best for last.

Seated at the private dinner, her bare ass touched the cool leather seat cushion. Her slip hem spanned across her lap, barely covering her hips. During the meal, her dinner date dropped his fork and leaned over to retrieve the utensil.

It was a silly gesture and she knew it. She parted her thighs in coy response, letting him peer at her shaved pussy, a little tease to keep his interest going. Now he had seen everything her body had to offer. After dessert, they strolled to the staged setup for the night scenes.

The room was arranged as a carpenter shop: saw horses, ladders, stationary machine tools mounted on benches, a sturdy wood-plank table in mid-room. She told the man to strip, retaining her own light slip and strappy saddles. Although his lanky naked body was at least a foot taller than hers, she wore sequined flat sandals, more practical to the coming sexual isometrics.

The tall wooden step ladder aided their first scene. Gus leaned her tall model against the rungs. He placed his feet outside the ladder rails and grabbed a rung above his broad, muscular shoulders, bowing his body forward to prominently display his grand penis.

Gus examined his loose ball sack tabled on her fingertips. She let her other hand perform lazy strokes on his swelling prick. The man quietly watched her work his groin until his shaft stood solidly erect. Gus smiled and kissed his taut six-packed bellybutton before releasing the dual handfuls of man meat.

She carefully climbed the ladder steps between his legs until their groins aligned, her hands and feet staged on suitable rungs. Maneuvering skillfully, she captured the cock head with her moist nether lips. Assuring her balance, she pressed down. The man held firm, unable to stir and still keep him, her and the stepladder from toppling over. Gus moved her ass in long slow twerks, setting a pace that thrilled her soft vaginal membranes.

Her silky clad nipples pattered against his beefy pecs, tenderly hardening into little pink pokies. At times, she rested at the bottom, laying her blond covered ear against his chest. She scrubbed her clitoris against his pubic bone without stroking, adding more sensations to the feeling of extreme fullness in her core. It was wonderful; the cameras about the workroom caught the many magnificent shots.

Between the pauses, Gus rode the masculine shank gracefully up and down at increasing speed. At the perfect time, she breathlessly wailed her delight, her body vibrating against the brawny man. She slumped her impaled body against his, breathing through the rapture. She eventually lifted off his manhood and descended to stand in front of him. He hadn't cum.

She saw that he was waiting for her help, unwilling to leave the ladder before he got his satisfaction. His prominent pole shone with her vaginal dew, a lubricant for her forthcoming hand-job. Stroking it sensuously, Gus brought on his ejaculation. She heard his breath deepen and his face took on a grimace. The first geyser of sperm erupted several feet in the air, arcing to splatter on the floor. The sequential spouts emerged with lesser force until the last one dribbled over her stroking fist. All through the session, the model let Gus take charge of the scene; she was, after all, the star of the entire week's media production. She was the boss. And he trusted that her next chosen scenario would have equal satisfaction for him.

Gus chose the wooden plank workbench as the next location. She laid her model on his back; the bench was long enough for him to lay prone with room to spare. This pose was much more comfortable for him than the previous tilt against the step ladder. He refracted quickly under her cock handling foreplay. His rod was soon ready to rumble again.

Gus, still lightly covered in her flimsy slip, mounted up cowgirl on his erection. She used his body, especially his groin parts, to generate another outstanding bout of ecstasy that buzzed throughout her being. She sat impaled until regaining her calm after the sexual storm. As she moved to dismount, he placed his hands on her folded thighs, the touch arresting her movement. She saw his anguished expression and heard his faint plea.