Photo Session

It all started when I was looking through Craigslist. In part, I enjoyed laughing at some of the stranger ads, and in part I was looking at a few of the help wanted ads to see if I could pick up a few extra dollars for a vacation I wanted to take.

I was perusing the personals section when I saw the ad for a photographic model. I never questioned why the ad was in the personals section - though I should have.

I half-heartedly opened the ad expecting to find a sleazy come-on designed to lure dumb eighteen year old bimbos. Instead, and quite to my surprise, I found the means to fund a few of the extravagances for my vacation. (A vacation I planned to take without my girlfriend. A trip on which I would indulge a secret of mine.)

The ad was, in fact, looking for a model. Not a girl but a guy. I never considered for a moment that I was handsome enough to be a model, but the ad was clear that the company was not necessarily looking for an Adonis.

The intended model would have to be between the ages of 45 and 55, straight, average height and weight, and most importantly able to fit clothing of specified sizes.

I planned to move on, but the pay grabbed my attention: $400 per hour with an opportunity for a continuing role.

I responded to the ad then forgot about it until I received a reply the following Thursday. Included was an electronic advance of $100 and instructions to be at the given address Saturday night showered and shaved. I could have ignored it but it was too easy to deposit the money in my account.

When I arrived I expected to be at an office of some sort but found myself inexplicably in a safe, quiet, residential neighborhood. I had suspected some sort of scam or foul play and was greatly relieved when two well dressed normal looking men answered the door instead of some lone serial killer. They introduced themselves as the producer and the photographer - very professional.

Inside I completed some paperwork, had a glass of offered Tequila, was given a check, and was informed that today's meeting was a casting interview so I would still keep my pay, but there were no cameras until next time.

We went into the living room where Chad shoved a leather outfit in my face, bruskly telling me to put it on. The expression on Jim's face made it clear that I was expected to put it on right now despite there being no dressing room. I was embarrassed to disrobe in front of the two manly guys but I supposed it was no different really than changing at the gym.

I started to decipher the assorted parts only slowly figuring out that it was black leather underwear. I looked up to be met by Chad's disdainful smirk. I could tell he was silently laughing at me inside, but four hundred dollars was enough for me to get past a little humiliation. I could see three other outfits on the couch: the price I would pay was to be four outfits for one hour, and then I would be free.

They had me stand in a few positions with Jim readjusting my arms or body at Chad's direction. There was a porno playing on the monitor in which I could see a female model in the same living room in the same outfit. Jim had me copying her poses, however, I never considered the larger, darker, implications.

Next was a pink satin thong and bra set with a matching skirt that was clearly women's lingerie. The positions became more suggestive and Jim's touch became as much more aggressive as his attitude was more demanding. Meanwhile, Chad was constantly talking about lighting and foreground and photography stuff.

I put on the outfits for the money, but I allowed the Ill treatment so as to not make waves until my time was up. Forty seven minutes to go.

The ways they had me stand, or bend, or lay became harder to do like some challenging yoga. The guys started to push on my legs or hips to help me accomplish the strenuous moves. It seemed like help, at first anyway, until at some point it morphed, without me being aware of the change, into these big men just roughly manhandling my body.

So here's the strange thing: the guys were rough and rude and the touching was forceful and intrusive but all the while that they were abusing me both verbally, and at times physically, they kept up a constant chatter of compliments. They were telling me that I was doing a good job with the posing. They told me I made the costumes look great. They told me I was hot. They told me I was a natural. They told me the photoshoot was going to be great and that I would make a lot of money.

When I was dressed in the teal anime ho gear with platinum blonde wig I was glad there were no cameras, except oddly, I still felt that I owed them my best efforts.

Between the non-stop alcohol, and the flattery, and the porn, and being touched, I lost enough of my reservations to display myself freely. I was on my stomach with my back arched and my butt up in the air. I could see the slut on the porn sucking a big cock and I got a still embarrassing hard-on. I hoped no one would see, which was a silly thing to hope for since my dick was presently exposed through the slit in the crotchless panties. My fears were relieved when Jim cupped my balls and said, "Now this is what I'm talking about!" in a very approving tone.

Glancing at the clock I saw that I had thirty minutes left and one more item to try on. I Was instructed to put on the black and red lacy push-up bra and matching shimmery skirt, and to switch out the short wig for a long brunette one. Catching sight of myself in a mirror, if I stood at exactly the right angle I looked pretty. Of course, at any other angle I was not passable. Reading my mind Jim told me that with make-up and better lighting it would all be great.

Chad forcefully pushed me into a new pose laying prone on the ottoman. His hands never left me, instead roaming into all sorts of crevices. I opened my mouth to protest then noticed there were only ten minutes left on the clock. Escape was a moment away. That was the moment it all changed. Suddenly both their hands were all over me. Chad was still going on about the photogenic qualities of the scene and Jim still took his lead but they were actively and verbally appreciating my bod as they were caressing my buns or tweaking my nipples. I hate to admit it but, as inappropriate as it was, I liked the attention.

I was still bent over when Chad stroked my dick sending electric waves through my being. I closed my eyes and moaned. Then I felt Jim's hard cock on my face. He still had his pants on but there was no mistaking the turgidity inside. I pulled away and made to get up. I started to mumble something about leaving. I had to get out of there now!

These two strong men grabbed me and pinned me down on the ottoman in an instant. They told me I was a cock-tease for putting on these sexy outfits and prancing around like a sissy. Ominously, they said I knew exactly what I was doing and deserved the treatment I was about to get.

Jim moved to the back and flipped up my pleated skirt continuing to manipulate my penis and joyful testicles. My limpy had lost its hardness but under his expert groping returned to its previous aroused state. Chad, on the other hand, was now in front of me. He had both hands tangled in my long black curls and behind my neck and was rubbing my face all over the front of his underwear. I don't know when his pants came off but the only thing between me and his large pecker was the thinnest of materials.

Against my will, my balls produced a copious amount of precum which Jim had no hesitation in rubbing on my fearfully exposed asshole. Within minutes he had me lubed up and his thumb was fully inserted, twisting around, searching. When he found my prostrate it pushed out a huge glob of wetness from my stiff but dangling and lonely dick.

I was restrained still by their powerful hands. Truth be told, I should have struggled more. I guess it was the dangerous excitement causing me to acquiesce. Chad yanked his underwear to the side pulling his big angry dick out. It was steely and reddish and had a lot of foreskin obscuring the head. I had never seen foreskin before and in shocked surprise, like a gawker at a train wreck, I stopped my squirming to get a better look at the scary juncture of loose skin that hid some kind of unknown masculine mystery. He noticed my pause and told me that this proved I loved his big tool, then proceeded to attempt to insert it into my mouth.

I clenched my teeth to block it's entry which caused Chad to laugh as if this were some perverted game. He had zero difficulty prying my lips apart with the wrapped head of his tool, placing the buldge definitively past my lips but not past my teeth. Running into this obstacle he simply plowed to the side causing my cheeks to bulge obscenely.

I heard the tearing sounds of a condom wrapper and the snapping lid of a bottle of lube while Jim wasted no time behind me. I imagined a pointy spear of a cock going into my bum but when it made contact it felt more blunt like he was pressing the palm of his hand against my pink ring.

He attempted to gain access a few terrible times and each time, to my relief, his mostly firm dick bent before it could go in. With lots of lube he rubbed his invader between my buns in order to achieve its full length. Accomplishing this he returned to the previous task with more success. At the first entry I felt myself stretch and it burned slightly. I let out a little grunt which did nothing less than inflame the passions of my two aggressors.

Chad switched to a headlock trusting wildly. When I ran low on air I had no choice but to open my mouth, gasping, but also allowing this hefty, spongy, meat to get past my teeth. He pushed repeatedly, each time gaining an additional half inch as a slippery coating of my saliva progressed further down the shaft reducing the friction, until certainly at least six inches were filling my mouth - yet I was staring down, easily, at another hand's width.

Chad and Jim high fived, hooting and whooping, as they exclaimed their victory over the bimbo they now impaled like a spit-roast pig. Hearing their celebration deflated my resolve completely.

Chad's hands changed their hold so that he was controlling my head with a vice like grip on both sides. He pulled completely out of my oral entrance for a second. I saw a slick ooze within the tip until he skinned it back to reveal an excess of dripping stickiness.

Meanwhile Jim wrapped an arm around my hips and under my stomach so he could pull me against and into his hot pistoning cock. With his other hand he fingered my penis then began to jerk me off.

Their pile-driving picked up rhythm as they assaulted both my ends. Jim jerked my dick frenetically as he continued to rape my tight hole. I have no idea how far in it went but I could feel every ridiculously thick part of it intensely stretching my sorry bung. Fortunately the burning receded but was replaced by an unwelcome pleasure.

It took less than five minutes for all three of us, huffing and grunting, to contort into impending writhing shapes of orgasm.

First, Jim bottomed out in my bowels filling the ballooning condom. Next Chad pushed his swelling and throbbing cock past the back of my mouth and into my objecting throat. I felt surges of cum flow thru it directly to my stomach. He pulled back enough to deposit the remaining spurts on my tongue. I was acutely aware if it's acidic thickness and overwhelming bitter-sweet taste.

I didn't want to cum, but cum I did! My body shook and trembled in a strong climax. Jim's fingers grasped my dick tightly causing my jiz to jet out like water from the hose on a pressure washer. I didn't want it to stop and if getting my ass drilled and my mouth filled with slimy goo was the way to make this happen then I was all in.

The guys fell back panting in post orgasmic recovery and I drooped limp and sweaty on the ottoman.

All I said was, "So? Next Saturday?"

Jim said, "Absolutely! But it's required that you fight us." He also added, "You know next week there will still be no cameras, we're not going to pay you, the electronic deposit was reversed, and the check is going to bounce."

I let that sink in then nodded my head in subservient agreement.