Chapter 1
It was a grey Saturday morning, and as I crawled through the bland industrial mall looking for a unit number, my heart was recklessly pumping away.
Why am I doing this? It would be smarter to just go home
.
It
would
be smarter to just go home. But I knew there was no way I could do that. For some reason I couldn't explain, I had to do this.
I pulled around the corner of one row of low buildings, and there was a car in front of me, proceeding slowly like I was. When it turned to pull into a parking spot, I saw the unit number I had been looking for and I also pulled in a couple spots down. There were only a handful of cars parked, clustered here even though the low building stretched on for several hundred yards, making for a desolate scene.
A well-dressed black guy, looking quite professional and fit in his early 40's was getting out of the other car. Our eyes met for a second, then we both looked away from each other, even though we both headed to the same door. He got there first and rang the doorbell, and a few seconds later an attractive blonde in her 20's let us both in.
We entered an abandoned-looking reception area. A tall brunette, not as pretty as the blonde but with big tits barely constrained by a t-shirt, was sitting behind a forlorn, beat-up long desk. She looked up at us. "Names?"
"Danny," I said, my voice almost cracking.
"Will," the black guy said. His voice sounded confident, even.
The brunette checked our names off against a list. She handed each of us a clipboard with a form on it. "There will be a full release to sign later, but just to get in the door, you have to consent to having images taken, and you have to surrender your wallet and phone to us so we can get your personal data."
My gut clenched. I knew that they'd be taking a picture of my driver's license and ID, but my phone as well? I could tell the guy beside me was thinking it over, too, and for some reason that spurred me on. I signed the form and handed the clipboard back.
"Your wallet, please."
I took out my wallet and set it on the desk. Then the blonde lead me into a larger room beyond, the high, unfinished ceiling half-lost in darkened gloom above. Whatever business had formerly been resident here was gone, leaving few traces except some cast-off office furniture. Of that, sixteen chairs had been scavenged to form a semicircle facing a long wall. The only things out of place were a couple professional-looking photographers' lights - the kind with reflective umbrellas directing the light - and a large digital camera on a tripod.
The chairs were almost half-filled, and the blonde guided me to sit in the next available seat. I sat beside a younger guy who was staring nervously at his phone screen. A few seconds later, the black guy joined me, taking the chair on my left. A minute or two later, a couple more guys entered the room and took up the next spots. It was close to our designated nine o'clock meeting time, and the remaining chairs filled up quickly.
No one's late, and no one bailed
, I thought to myself.
I wonder if they're all as nervous as I am?
I looked over the group. Quite a few were staring off into space, a few others checking each other out. It was quite a mixed collection of men... a few college-aged, like the one beside me, one older guy probably in his sixties, the rest mostly in their thirties or forties. There were guys who looked like they worked in trades or physical labor and several professional types. Skinny guys and portly guys like me. And, like me, about half were sporting wedding rings. If you looked over this group, you wouldn't guess what they had in common.
After about ten minutes, a buff and handsome dude, probably in his late 20's, walked out in front of us. "You guys all know me," he said, "although you've never seen me. I'm Master Steve."
My pulse - which had never really calmed down since getting here - skipped a couple beats.
That's Master Steve? Holy shit! He's so... hot.
"You all got in touch with me, through kik or my tumblr. You all wanted to know when I'd be passing through your shithole of a city. You all know why you're here, but I'll explain it anyway... I bet it'll give you fags a hard-on to hear it from my mouth."
As he spoke, the blonde who had let me in, as well as the tall brunette, were handing out clipboards to each of the seated guys. I took mine absently as Master Steve kept talking. My wallet was under the clip and I pulled it out, returning it to my pocket. Beneath that was a form, with my full name and address already inserted into the blanks.
"All of you fags have a deep desire to be exposed online. You want to be naked, showing your face and your cock. You want to strangers to look at your naked bodies. And maybe... you want people you know to accidentally find pictures of you like that online. But you're weak-willed and chickenshit. You don't have the guts to just take your own pictures and post them. So you came here for help."
"Some of you will not be worthy... half of you here today won't be exposed online. The other half are going to have a full series of pictures posted on my tumblr. Those you of you who make it further will have more than your pictures posted. And one winner... one out of you sixteen fags, will be totally exposed online."
"I know you faggots want it so badly. Just to make sure everything's legit, you have a standard model release form there. You have to sign it to give me permission to use the pictures we're taking today. There's also some stuff there about giving me permission to use the other information we're collecting today. Sign those right away so we can start, please."
There was a pen on a string taped to the clipboard. My eyes passed over the text on the form, filling up both sides of the sheet. I flipped it over and signed at the bottom and added the date. I could hear the scratching of pens all around me, and in a moment, the assistants were collecting the clipboards and taking them back to the reception area.
"Now the fun can begin," Master Steve said, with a grin on his face. "We're going to start at this end and work our way along. You should know the drill from seeing guys who have played my other games. Remove one item of clothing per picture, and after that I get to pick two or three poses. There'll be a tray for you to put your clothes in. Leave your tray under your seat. No one gets dressed until we're done." He looked at the dude in the first chair. "Okay faggot, you're up."
With some slight hesitancy, he got up and walked to the spot on the wall where the camera and lights were aimed. He looked like a typical soccer dad in his mid 30's, someone who jogged a bit but had a little paunch from sitting behind a desk.
He stood in a neutral pose, looking at the camera, and a second later I heard the snap-click of the shutter. The stripping shots were done pretty efficiently - take off shoes and set them in the tray,
snap
. Pull off sweater,
snap
. Unbutton shirt and drop it on top of the other items,
snap
. Remove socks,