I read Centerpiece by DanielleKitten, and that gave me the inspiration for the first chapter of Model Slave III, but The Midnight Lurker, and Masters_in_your_Mind also have great centerpiece stories. There have been many other centerpiece stories, but I used this one as my guide. I did send her a note asking for permission to base my story on hers, but never received a reply, so I went ahead hoping that she would view it as a compliment. If not, it is all my fault for going ahead. Still, this is only the first chapter of a multi chapter story.
This is basically an erotic love story and of course all characters are over 21. It will definitely not start out as a love story, but it will get there. My editor is sick and only partially finished an edit and I hope it is okay, but in addition, other chapters will be coming out slower. The Model Slave Series contains BDSM, bondage, exhibitionism, and lots of kinky sex. If you don't like these things then this story may not be for you. Please vote often (fives are most welcome) and of course please leave constructive comments.
PS - This is Model Slave III is the ending of the Model Slave series. If you have fantasies, ideas, etc for new stories please let me know, that includes twists on existing stories and I will see what I can do. Many of my stories have started out that way. I really appreciate the many ideas all of you have sent me. The Medieval Queen Series, the next chapter of Venus Ascending, the Nancy Drew series and Fairy Tales are all in the works because of your ideas.
Model Slave III
Chapter 1
Emma felt totally exposed and while there was a little embarrassment, she was also excited about having men ogle her naked form. The glass table was cold and hard and the only thing she had on were the wrist and ankle cuffs they used to bind her to the table. She could feel her flesh shrinking from the way it felt under her. She also realized that her naked ass was just as exposed as the nude front. Her arms had been stretched over her head and her legs had been stretched wide and tied to the legs of the rolling table.
A shiver stole over her, and she felt her nipples aching and engorging. Of course, being naked as the day she was born could have something to do with the chill. As she was told, she managed to relax on her back, barely able to wait until the glass table warmed from her body's heat. However, before it warmed the men around her began to tighten the slip knots on her limbs with her arms and legs stretching to the point, she was afraid they might pop out of joint.
She felt her ribs lift, and it became harder to breathe. Emma looked down at her body and noticed her breasts were raised high on her chest and her nipples were achingly hard. Her back popped and she swore that her flat tummy was touching her backbone. She couldn't see anything below her swollen breasts, but she felt the strain on her legs, hips and stomach.
When she arrived, she was in full makeup, but the workers had cleaned the makeup from her face exposing her light mask of freckles across her nose and beneath her eyes. This made her look much younger and to many suiters sexier. However, Emma tried to hide her freckles, preferring a more mature and classier look. Still, several of the workers ogled her mask on her face that gave her a younger yet exotic look.
Oddly she was more conscience of her exposed freckles than being naked on the table. While being naked and exposed to the workers around her felt excited, being tied up and helpless added a thrill she had never experienced. She had always been curious about bondage but never felt brave enough to actually do it. Now she didn't have a choice and her body trembled while her mind began to envision men doing whatever they wanted to her. They hadn't even started and her body was aching for someone to take advantage of her vulnerable condition.
She glanced around and could tell her stretched naked body was affecting the workers. All of them were giving her longing glances and most of them had bulges between their legs. As thrilled as she was, she knew she had to act humiliated of else they would think of her as a shameless slut and treat her as one. Maybe that wouldn't be bad, but they had to earn it.
"Not so tight!" She wriggled and groused.
When her agent told her about the gig and what kind of money she was going to make, she was torn. She needed the money but the whole thing sounded weird. Back in Oklahoma this would never happen, but in LA anything could happen and often did. Still, she assumed that she would be wearing the tiny bikini she had brought. Now she had been told to lose the bikini, she would be naked or forfeit the money and the job. Well, you know the old saying, "when you assume you make an ass out of U & me."
After several months of waiting for a gig, Emma's agent finally got her something that would help pay the bills. Her real name was Emma and she loved her real name, but since middle school her nickname had been Barbie, because she was the spitting image of the doll with the same name. As she grew and blossomed it was as if the doll had been patterned after her. So, when she went to LA to further her modeling career, she just started using her nom-del-a-plom.
LA had been a bad choice to start a modeling career because there were literally thousands of Barbies just like her. Her stunning looks got her an agent, but she had been through three agents since arriving and none had given her any jobs to help pay her bills, till now. But even this job was kinda sketchy. She was to be a sexy centerpiece at a bachelor party. Normally she would have given them the middle finger, but her funds were running thin and she needed any money she could get.
"You look a little chilled." the chef remarked as his eyes roamed over her succulent body then stopped transfixed, ogling her succulent breasts and turgid nipples. Her nipples seemed to appreciate the lechery and hardened before his eyes.
She couldn't help but glance down, seeing the small brown tips of her nipples grow tight, thrusting skyward and even she thought they looked very inviting. "Yeah, ya think? Remember when I asked you to warm up this thing I'm strapped to, well?." She knew she was being rude but for the life of her, she couldn't find it in her to care. "Can we just get on with this?" Despite her outrageous act, having all these men and women ogling and gawking at her naked form was electrifying. However, the butterflies inside her womb couldn't wait to experience the main event.
Modeling had always been like that, having people ogle you as you strutted around in skimpy or non-existent outfits. Emma didn't know about other models, but she suspected that like her all models got a thrill from ogling throngs of people around her. To be a model you have to like showing off your face, body, hands, abs, breasts, hair, whatever you are modeling. Emma was enjoying the attention, since it had been a while since she was on display or in front of a camera.
"Yeah, sure, OK." the chef muttered, pulling down on his white jacket.
"Turn your head to the side," he ordered. She did as he said, feeling his fingers searching in her hair. He pulled out the rubber band she'd used to keep her thick, golden colored hair back, slipping it into his pocket before he finger combed her hair. The golden waves and curls looked startlingly brilliant against the translucence of the glass table, and he arranged it the way he wanted it to look, the length was just long enough to touch the outside edges of the table.
"All you really have to do is just have to lay there and be the gorgeous centerpiece that I'm creating. Barbie, you have to remember you can't move no matter what happens. That is why we have you tied tightly to the glass table." He'd told her, a grin on his face. "I'm going to make you a fantastic living centerpiece and soon you will be the delicious dessert and climax for my epicurean meal. You may not taste as good as my dinner, but I have no doubt that the patrons will find you as my dessert very appealing."
"You want me all bound up on a table, have fruit and other food draped over me artistically and lie there, not moving, while your patrons feel me up while they eat?" She groused with very little enthusiasm, but she knew being the dessert for a bunch of horny men would be wild. Inside her butterflies were going wild at the thought. She had never been any part of something like this, but now she couldn't wait to have twenty men licking, slurping, and nibbling on her naked body.
"No one is going to hurt you. I know you are going to want to move around when they start touching you, but any movement will wreck the display." he said, reminding her with a small tweak on her petulant nipples, that she was his slave for the moment. His eyes slowly roamed over her deliciously displayed form as he talked.
"I don't have to do anything else except lay here?" Emma asked with serious doubt in her voice.
"Nope, just lie there. Oh, you may get touched, fondled and aroused, but you are not allowed to have a climax, squirm around or fidget." He looked at her with a stern glare and added, "As a matter of fact if you move, we have to tighten your bonds so you won't move anymore." His grin at the last comment, let her know that he relished the idea of tightening her bonds.
Emma took the last part of that conversation as a warning and felt a shiver of dread. Now that the time was here, her stomach was a mass of butterflies, and she could feel gooseflesh erupting on her skin. She couldn't help complaining, "How can you tighten my bonds any tighter, my joints are almost out of socket now?"
"There is always a way. Okay, I want you to have a dreamy look, kind of like you just woke up after some very naughty dream. I would love for you to keep a seductive look on your face and as the men begin eating off of you, feeling you and caressing you. A little moan or erotic whimper would be great, but only your face can show what you feel and no sexy seductive body movements."
The chef began to pull and tug on her form trying to get her into the position he wanted. Emma moved as he wanted, but bound as she was, she had very little movement, still she wiggled into the position she thought he wanted. But as the evening progressed, he kept moving her until she finally shifted her torso and hips into a position that left her comfortable and didn't offend his artistic sensibilities. She had to admit though that she felt very exposed as both her butt and her pussy were out there for anyone to see. It grew worse as she felt his hands on her legs, pushing the straight one back and bending the other one so that it was toward him more. That position raised her hips just a bit more and she knew anyone standing at the bottom of the table would get a fantastic view of her bald pussy.
He finished quickly and then she felt the touch of his fingers at the juncture of her thighs and a cool oily substance that he rubbed into her suddenly nude-feeling skin. She didn't dare lift her head to see what he'd done and could only gasp when he spread apart the lips of her pussy and rubbed his fingers against her clit.
