The tale of a fetish model accepting the wrong shoot
The studio was darker than most I had worked in. The soft glow of the lights on the other side of the room were obviously dim bulbs around the classic vanity makeup mirror. I stepped around some clutter to the vanity and opened my bags. I wondered to myself where the photographer could have been. He usually was waiting by the small desk by the front door. I had shot here a few times and there had never been an issue so I continued deeper into the studio towards the makeup vanity mirror. I laid out the contents of my makeup bag and started sorting the makeup and brushes. I never heard the steps coming quickly from behind me.
I felt strong hands on my hips, fingers digging into me as he flung me around.
My first thought was that the photographer I had worked with a dozen times before without incident was trying to surprise me, scare me. The mans form started to come into clear view before the stars lit up the iside of my head.
I had been hit.
In the face.
Hard!
I was trying to shake the cobwebs from my mind when I felt the soft cloth against my face.
It was a strange contrast to the rough fist that had slammed into my face just a second ago.
I tried to cry out when my nose and mouth were filled with an acrid burn.
The cloth had some sort of chemicals on it.
My mind had no time to process. Things were starting to go dark, even in this already dark room.
The dark ring at the edges of my vision grew quickly, as darkness and sleep greeted me like an old lover I could hear a mans voice.
“too easy” he said.
The there was darkness, stillness. Oblivion.
I started to come around very slowly. Before my eyes opened; I could hear sounds. Was it talking? It sounded like it was miles away….. inside a tunnel. The sounds started to make sense. A mans voice talking. Words started to make sense
“lovely”….. “skirt” ….. “panties”……
“lower them to your ankles” ……. “ its not going to hurt too much”…….
“Are you starting to come around, good”
My eyes opened and the sun shone on my face, blinding me.
No…. not the sun. there was no heat. The brightness was artificial. The LED lighting panels used by the photographer.
It was inches from my face and I couldn’t see anything.
It hurt to keep my eyes open so I shut them tightly. I could still see the lights through my closed eyelids.
Had looking directly into the lights damaged my sight? I couldn’t tell but before I could start to worry about my eyesight It slowly dawned on me what had happened.
I had been struck in the face. I could now feel the dull ache on the side of my head where his fist had struck me. It hurt when I opened my mouth so I tried not to move my jaw too much.
I started understanding my situation. I was bent at the waist, my stomach on a bench, head lifted up as far as it could making my throat hurt as the skin over my neck was pulled taught. I couldn’t understand how my head was being forcefully held up so I tried moving my head to the right.
PAIN!
It came from my scalp. The entirety of my hair was pulled tightly and attached to something behind me, pulling my hair backwards, forcing my head into the unnatural position it was now in.
My arms were being secured behind me. Handcuffs? Maybe. My arms had been bent in an odd way which wouldn’t allow me to bend them. As I realized what my arms were being forced to do my brain started recognizing the electrical messages indicating discomfort.
Bent over, hands cuffed and arms tied in a weird way.
I tried to stand up and was greeted by another wave of sharp pain. I was wearing a collar that had spiked on the inside. The collar was chained to something in front of me. When I tried standing up the collar dug into the back of my neck.
I could feel the spikes digging into the soft tissue at the nape of my neck. I could feel the warm wetness starting to stream down my back.
I was bleeding! I started to realize my position and tried taking a step forward to stop the collar from stabbing me. My ankles were secured as well. To a spreader bar between my ankles.
There was no way for me to move.
I was stuck here like this.
I was vulnerable.
Then came the hands on my hips again. Firm. Feeling the roundness of my ass cheeks. He slapped my ass hard and the jolt made me jump.
Cutting my neck, hurting my ankles.
Straining my arms close to the breaking point.
I realized if I moved too suddenly I could be stabbed through the neck, or have my arms and ankles broken.
The hands were on my ass again and he lifted my skirt over my ass exposing my pantyhose covered legs and ass. I could feel his hand running along my ass and up and down my legs. I was in agony. I was paralyzed with fear. Then the hands reached my ankles and turned inwards. His hands were now on the inside and roaming up towards my inner thighs, my pussy.
I tried to scream but the pain in my jaw wouldn’t let me.
His hands were now over the mound of my pussy. He was roughly kneading my crotch through the panties and pantyhose, painfully grinding the material around irritating my skin.
It continued. Getting more vigorous. Soon I could feel my panties rolling, shifting. And then my lips were being dragged by the pantyhose. He continued until the pantyhose stretched into my pussy. I could feel his fingers expertly grinding down. Pushing deeper.
Then the soft tear.
Was this my pantyhose ripping or was he ripping my pussy?
Before I could wonder again the pantyhose popped and his fingers were inside me.
Bare rough fingers inside my pussy. He started flicking his fingers insi8de of me.
One? Two? Three fingers. I couldn’t register it but there was a new pain. His fingers were to the hilt of his palm and now he was trying to force them further.
This time a scream did escape my lips.
The scream seemed to go on forever and I started to wonder where all this air came from.
How was I able to scream this loud, this long.
Was it in my imagination?
Then the cloth was over my face again.
The acidic fumes making me want to vomit. I hoped I wouldn’t vomit. I didn’t understand how that would work, but I knew it wouldn’t be good.
Nothing about this was good.
Since my eyes were forced closed already I didn’t see the dark rings of oblivion around the edges of my sight but I knew they were there and growing.
Soon I was in the soft comfort of oblivion.
No pain.
No discomfort
No fear.
Words again started to fill my head. I was waking up again. The words were gibberish again. I couldn’t understand the words or their meanings or how they worked strung together but slowly they started to make sense
“ fuckable”
“Still wet”
“ no its not blood moron that’s 100% pure woman sex juice”
“her names Evangeline” I started to fully awaken when hearing my name. He was talking to someone. Someone who wasn’t talking back but was conversing with him somehow
“Yeah shes a fetish model. Shes hotter than the sun boy”
On the phone…obviously on the phone. Understanding started to come again and I tried opening my eyes but there was nothing.
Blackness.
Was I blind? Did this animal tear my eyeballs out?
No…. I could see a thin stream of light coming in through the far edge of my vision. As I was awakening I started to notice it more clearly.
I was blindfolded!
Realization started to dawn on me.
I had been knocked out. The soft cloth on my face and the acrid fumes means chloroform. That stuff people used in the movies.
I honestly didn’t know the stuff existed in real life.
The next thing I realized was that I was no longer standing or bent over.
I was on my back and had my arms over my head. I tried moving them but realized they were tied.
I was cold. I could feel the cold air in the studio run over my bare skin.
I was naked.
How long had I been out
“what do you mean you never heard of her. Shes a fucking internet fucking legend boy”
Why was a filled with a burst of pride hearing my captor, my rapist compliment me.
The sound of disgust at the person on the other side of the conversation.
“you got yourself a computer boy” he asked.
“Do that google thing. Evangeline von winter”.
I tried moving my legs but found they were tied to something. My legs were bent back away from me, exposing my pussy.
Then I felt something move inside me. Not enter me but twitch inside of me.
“this bitches twat so tight I think im going to rip through into her fucking belly”
That was it. He was inside me. I woke up to him already inside me. Now I could feel the monster invading me move. Twitching. He was wet and slick. He had just cum inside me
“im just here waiting for her to wake up and get me hard again so I can cum inside her asshole this time”
I drew a breath in sharply at the mention of my ass. I had never had anal sex. I had tried but the pain was so intense. So incredibly painful that I begged for the guy to stop even though the head of his dick hadn’t even gone halfway in.
“well well well…this bitch was playing asleep. Probably hoping to get away”
He hung up the phone but not before telling the guy on the other end to hurry up and get the boys and come to the studio
Get the boys
This wasn’t anywhere near ending.
“please I said” my jaw still hurting but the swelling obviously reduced.
“please she says. Oh I think she wants more”
He joked as he withdrew his penis from inside me.
It plopped out and I could feel my pussy bleeding
“ no its not blood moron that’s 100% pure woman sex juice” I remembered him saying.
No… it had to be blood. I refused to believe that my body would betray me this way. How could my body have enjoyed this pain, this agony This humiliation.
“No” I said “no more”.
He laughed. I could feel him move out from under me and step to my head. I felt the bottom of his boot on my face
“you want your face broken”
No please I screamed in my head. Why wouldn’t my mouth open to say the words
“do you feel this” he said as he brought more of his weight onto my cheekbone. I could feel the bone starting to ache deeply. He would soon break my cheekbone. Maybe go further and break my entire skull.
I started to week and his foot came off quickly
“now now…there is no need to cry do you know why”?
I tried to answer. Tried to gather air into my lungs and ask why. My body betrayed me again. I couldn’t form the words.
“because you aren’t going to try anything stupid” he said. Kneeling by my head. I instinctively knew where this was going. I was thankful that I was blindfolded and couldn’t see his dick come closer.
“open your mouth and work on this dick. Bite it and I step on your face again and again until your brain spills from your mouth”
Then there was a pressure on my lips. I parted them and opened my mouth slowly but he rammed his cock into my mouth, passing my tongue and directly down my throat. I wanted to gag but somehow I didn’t .
He continued thrusting his cock into my mouth over and over and I soon started to feel him getting bigger in my mouth. Impossible big.
He started to throat fuck me. I couldn’t breathe. I thought this would be how I died.
Getting throat fucked.
Let it come. I don’t want to live through whatever aftermath will come.
His cock was removed from my mouth. I could feel how incredibly hard and large it was as it was coming out. It seemed to go on forever and when it finally left my mouth the vomit followed. I regurgitated lunch all over the floor to my right.
Lunch was so long ago.
Like a lifetime ago.
He started to move away again. I could still hear him laughing under his breath.
He returned and knelt again between my legs. I felt a large rough finger enter my pussy. He finger fucked me and rammed his finger into me roughly again and again. Then he put it on my asshole.
He pushed and it gave just a little.
I screamed in agony.
He laughed.
His finger went in deeper. Raw pain shot through my brain. The pain was incredible, unbearable
Then something cool.
Wet. Numbing.
It was gel.
He was pouring lubrication over my asshole with his rough finger still inside me.
He removed his finger and I could smell the foul odor.
He laughed and started to press two fingers into my asshole. This was going to be too much
“enough” I screamed, and he stopped
If you’re going to rape my asshole then have enough decency to knock me out like you have before.
Silence
He got up quietly.
I had done it now.
I had angered him. I knew I had. He would kill me now and rape my corpse.
I waited for his boot to come down on my face.
My neck.
My stomach.
What came instead was the relief of the cloth again.
He pressed it tightly and I would soon be welcomed by my greatest and dearest friend.
Sleep. He would violate me but I wouldn’t feel it because I would be protected by my friend.
My protector.
Sleep.
Sleep would claim me for his own and deprive this madman from taking from me the only thing I had left,.
Sleep would protect me.
Sleep would save me.
I stared at her face with my mouth hanging open. I couldn’t believe what had just come out of my little sisters mouth. Here she was warning me what could happen. Warning me with a story of gore and blood and violation.
My little sister.
The innocent little girl I remembered playing with barbies was sitting across from me trying to scare me out of my job with a story so terrible and horrible that it would have scared me if it weren’t for the fact that it was my little sister telling it.
The contrast between her story and her personality was too great to get me too immersed in her tale of rape and paid and humiliation
“Honey…. Please tell me you didn’t just come up with this story and you read it somewhere”
She looked at me with genuine fear in her eyes.
“Its not a story. I saw it in my dreams, and you know what they have always said about my dreams”.
She was out of breath. Her face red from either embarrassment or fear or both.
I smiled.
“Its ok hun. Ive worked with this photographer a bunch of times and his set is in a secure studio. I will be fine”
She opened her mouth to protest but I stood up.
“I wont hear another word about it. I don’t appreciate you trying to scare me with one of your stories and the fact that you told it from my point of view was disturbing. I wont tell mom about this but you have to prose not to try and scare me away from work ever again”
I stood up and left her sitting at the table. I think I might have heard her cry. But what she had done was really wrong.
The studio was just a block away and I would be late if I stopped to make her feel better.
The studio was darker than most I had worked in. The soft glow of the lights on the other side of the room were obviously dim bulbs around the classic vanity makeup mirror. I stepped around some clutter to the vanity and opened my bags. I wondered to myself where the photographer could have been. He usually was waiting by the small desk by the front door.
I froze. It was exactly as my little sisters story.
“Its not a story. I saw it in my dreams, and you know what they have always said about my dreams”.
Her voice in my head repeating the same words she had mentioned not 15 minutes earlier.
Then the cloth came from behind her covering her mouth and nose.
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