Thrall's first assignment

[Dragon's muse]

Welcome to the block!

For your first assignment write your perfect, ideal, most magnificent ever deflowering. If you could go back in time and rescript that moment in your life, what would it be. Give me everything, senses, feelings. Take me to this idealized moment in time.

i know you can knock this out of the park.

rose

[thrall]

Emotional dynamite!............and i thought you would go easy on the first round...LOL

[Dragon's muse]

*eyes wide with innocence*

But i thought i was being easy. If i had wanted to be difficult i would have had you put it all in dialogue.

You have level IV in your future, i would be remiss in not preparing you for Mad Lews and HDean.

Breathe, you can do this.

rose

rose

[Rhabbi]

*eyes wide with innocence*

But i thought i was being easy. If i had wanted to be difficult i would have had you put it all in dialogue.

You have level IV in your future, i would be remiss in not preparing you for Mad Lews and HDean.

Breathe, you can do this.

rose

rose

Level 4 is not that bad, I just hope someone else gets there soon to divert there attention.

[Dragon's muse]

Level 4 is not that bad, I just hope someone else gets there soon to divert there attention.

Level IV is not that difficult for you because myself, Aussiegirl and Ruby gave full play to our inner sadists before you got there.

[thrall]

High heat

Hello everyone.

I’m all about brutal truth and honesty. So please feel free to give me your best shots.

This is truly only the second story I have ever tried to write in my entire life so I won’t be offended by what you might say. Trust me I know how to laugh at myself, and won’t be hurt.

That being said……………

Dragons Muse stands on the mound, high heat blazing in her eyes, as the new untested slugger she walks out of the dugout.

Thrall steps up the plate, seeing the danger, she plants her feet and squares her shoulders. Knowing what’s about to come, she squints her eyes, ready for the pitch.

Dragons Muse winds up and sends a 100mph fast ball straight at Thralls head.

CRACK!

The sound reverberates through the stadium as all eyes see the bat shatter.

The ball is passing the mound, across the field, and over the high fence, and sunk to the bottom of the bay.

Sorry just a bit of nervous humor………..I couldn’t resist.

Now I just need to figure out how to cut and paste……….LOL

[thrall]

Photo shoot

There are two major areas in this country for top models, New York and Los Angles. In Los Angeles if you want your portfolio to be the best you go to Michael Rhetman. He was the most in demand, highest paid and most exclusive photographer in the country. Models didn’t choose him to take there photos, he chose the models that he was willing to shoot, and I had a summer job with him.

My older sister was eighteen and one of the Agencies hottest models. When she would go on a photo shoot, I would sometimes tag along to watch. I enjoyed watching how the modeling business worked. It was all about beautiful faces, hot bodies, and not a brain cell between anyone’s ears. I was appalled and fascinated all at the same time. I had to admit it was fun to run with the fast and beautiful crowd.

The Agency was a living, breathing, feeding frenzy of human flesh. It was the modeling agency to sign with, and they wanted to sign me, badly. I was sixteen and everything they could wish for in a model. I was young, beautiful, and had a great body; I would have fit right in, except for the fact that I had a brain. I found the idea repugnant. I didn’t want to be desired only for my body, so I always turned them down.

Models and photographers always filled The Agency, and today was no different. I was with my sister as she was booking her next job when Michael Rhetman came walking through the doors. He was in his late forties, average height and build, dark brown slightly graying hair and piercing sapphire blue eyes. The thing I noticed most about him wasn’t the way he looked but the way he felt. There was magnetism about him, his own gravity force that pulled everyone towards him. Despite all of that he always held himself aloof, never engaging with anyone. He chose who he allowed to talk to him, and he talked to almost no one. My back was turned and I felt my hair move as someone whispered in my ear.

“Heather, I need someone for a summer internship and I would like you to consider the job.”

I turned around, stunned that Rhetman was talking to me. I was stunned that he was offering me this job. I was also appalled at the jealous looks from the models that had heard the exchange. Of all the people, I couldn’t understand why he was asking me.

His blue eyes never left mine as he reached down and circled my wrist with his hand.

“Say yes, Heather, I’ll only offer you this job once,” This was without mirth.

The feel of his hand wrapped securely around my wrist, blotted out the world. My soul answered before my brain had a chance to catch up. It was a surreal moment, I herd my voice answer “Yes Mr. Rhetman, I would love the job.”

My brain finally caught up to what had just come out of my mouth, and yes indeed, I did want this job.

“When would you like me to start?”

I was surprised at how calm I felt. This was Michael Rhetman, world-class photographer, offering me a job, and all I could think about was that my nipples had just got hard, and I blushed crimson.

“I want you to start tomorrow morning and don’t be late,” I could feel his voice, deep and resonate in every, in cell of my body and it was exciting. “I’ll expect you at seven, sharp”
He released my wrist than released my eyes as he handed me his card. “Remember, Heather, seven sharp”

He walked past me and out the door. In his wake, the room was silent. All eyes turned on me, and I blushed again.

The next morning I was a bundle of nervous, anxious energy, as I rang the studio bell. Michael answered the door, looked at me than his watch, and smiled.

“Good girl, you’re on time.” He said as he ushered me into the studio. “I have a shoot this morning so just follow me and we will see how well you do.”

“But, Mr. Rhetman, you need to tell me what you want me to do. I’ve never worked a photo shoot before,” smiling shyly.

“No, I’m not going to give you any direction. I know that you’ve been to several shoots so you have a general idea of what needs to be done with the models. Don’t call me Mr. Rhetman. I want you to call me Sir.” His eyes looked steadily into mine, waiting for an answer.

“Sir, if I understand you, you’re giving me a free hand to do what I want, with no direction at all.”

“That’s right, I want to see how you move through a shoot, how you move the models. I want to see what your eye tells you, if you know instinctively what the camera needs. So make no mistake about this, I will be watching every move you make.”

His eyes pierced my soul.

“We have about thirty minutes before everyone starts showing up. I want you to look around the studio and get a feel for the things here. Every thing and anything can be used as a prop in the shoot, so think about that as your working.”

The studio was the size of a small warehouse, filled with everything, including a kitchen sink. There were lamps, chairs, different kinds of sofas, boxes, crates, gym equipment, lots of medieval looking things, several different styles of beds, you name it and it was here. The area that was going to be working in looked like a standard shoot, with a backdrop and lighting. Before I knew it, the studio, was filled with the bustling of models, make-up artists, and hair and clothing stylists.

Michael looked at me, nodded, and gave me a wink.

“Go ahead, Heather, tell them all what you want them to do”

“Yes, Sir” I said with trepidation. Turning towards the models, I arranged them how I thought a photo would look good. I moved them around, put them here and there, added fans and lighting. I got the feeling that Michael was watching me more than the models, but the day want off without any trouble. Everyone packed up and left and we were alone again.

“You did a good job today, Heather, thank you.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, fingers grazing the sensitive skin on my neck. I turned to look at him and he was gazing intently at me. Almost as if he was studying me.

“I’d like to take your photograph Heather.”

“Sir, I don’t want too. I’m not a photo kind of girl, sorry, but thanks for the offer anyway.”

I was amazed that he was asking to do this and it was flattering offer, but just not my thing.

“Yes I know, I’ve heard this about you around the Agency, its one of the reasons why you’re such an attractive subject. You don’t want to be a model, you don’t want you photo taken, and you’re not conceited. Come with me, I want to show you something before you go, Heather, and than you can decide if you want me to shoot you.”

He led me to his office.

“This is what I like to do, Heather,” opening several large portfolios. “I collect souls” His eyes had changed. Now they overflowed with smiling warmth. He was turning the pages of headshots over one by one and looking at each as if it was a long lost lover.

“If you look at these, Heather, they’re not just beautiful faces. These faces all speak with their hearts and souls. Look at their eyes. They all have depth of soul”. He sounded wistful as he said this.

He was right. The faces in these pictures weren’t just of models; these were pictures of the old and young, men and women of all shapes and sizes. Each photo spoke to me with a depth of character and emotion that I never knew was possible. This was pure art. I looked up and saw that he was watching me like a hawk and it was thrilling.

“Sir, these are wonderful, but why would you want me”?

“Because, Heather, you burn, you smolder like the embers of a fire.”

I didn’t know what to say. I realized, he was paying me a complement. I had to say something. He was watching me and smiling, waiting to see how I would react.

“Sir, I’ll think about it.” I said as I walked out of the office to go home.

We worked like that for two months, sometimes with three shoots a day. Michael would tell me what he wanted and I would tell the models. We were always together and always only inches apart. The magnetism that he always seemed too exuded was palpable. There was something about him, every time I came close, all of the hair on my body would stand on end. I found myself staring at him every chance I had, trying to figure it all out. I had this crazy idea that he was watching me through the camera, following me. The feelings that were coursing through me were confusing and thrilling. At the end of every day of shooting Michael would ask me the same question, ‘would I like him to take my photograph’ it had become our standing joke, because the answer was always the same. No.

The summer had ended and this was the last day of work. Michael and I had finished up and all of the crew and models had long since left. I was nervous and on edge, as we ate the remains of a cold pizza left over from lunch. I knew that he was going to ask the same question tonight just as he had done every other night, and the anticipation of the question was electric.

Our eyes met, his blue eyes holding mine

“Heather, I want to do a portfolio of you tonight. Understand I’m not talking about just a head shot, but a complete portfolio.” The statement was mater of fact, almost as if he knew my answer before I said it.

I knew that he wanted a head shot but this was something totally different. A complete portfolio could take hours to shoot. A portfolio meant full body shots and a lot of them. Even knowing what it was that he was asking I never missed a beat, and said, smiling, “Sir, I’d love to.”

“Good, I was hoping you were going to say that,” Michael smiled back at me. “In the top drawer of my desk you’ll find everything you’ll need. Just come out when you’re ready.”

I couldn’t say anything, all I could do was nod my head, as I turned and headed for the office. In the drawer was a set of fine black lace lingerie, bra, panties, and a pair of patent leather stilettos. I was stunned but willing to comply. Everything I needed was here for a world-class portfolio shoot.

I sat down at the makeup table and stared in the mirror. I needed to decide on a look, and based on the outfit I knew that it wasn’t going to be sweet and innocent. I decided on sultry. I knew the requirements for makeup in a professional photo were much different than in real life. You need to sculpt the contours of you face. Darker in the hollows, brightness on the high points, lips needed to be penciled and brows defined. I used a deep cherry red lipstick, and port wine blush. I created drama with the eyes in Smokey browns and grays, all farmed in thick black lashes. I decide on hair that was big and full, layers of hair that framed my face and fell over my shoulders and breasts. I put on the lingerie and looked in the mirror, I never felt so sexy before in my life. As a finishing touch I added blush to the contour of my breast and nipples and a dusting of body glimmer all over. I could do this I kept telling myself, and walked into the studio.


Michael was standing at his work station setting up the cameras. What I wasn’t expecting was that he had rearranged the shoot set to include a large bed. I was nervous about this but said nothing.

“Very nice Heather” Michael drawled. “Come and sit on the bed and let me look at you.” He took me by the wrist and sat me down, clearly appraising how I looked. I could see his eyes roving over my almost naked body and a shiver ran down my spine, as I basked under his praise.

“Alright Heather, I’m going to start with just a few of you sitting like this until your more comfortable” He turned on the lights and I was flooded in white light. I could feel the heat on my skin. He picked up a camera and started to shoot. I was scared and tense so I closed my eyes.

“Good Heather, that’s good just relax and breathe” I heard him saying. I could feel the tension in my body ebbing and I was becoming softer, looser, and more comfortable with every passing moment.

“Now get on the bed on your hands and knees, let your head fall forward and shake your hair.” He said. This was unexpected, the feeling of being directed, being told what to do, and doing it. The feeling of Michaels control over me was stirring my soul. I couldn’t explain why. I crawled onto the bed and did as instructed. Michael moved me form one position to another, moving my arms and legs to the positions he wanted. His hands felt like fire on my skin wherever he touched me, and he was always whispering words of encouragement in my ear.

“Good girl” Michael continued to drawl. “Now I want you to stand and slow dance for me. I need some pictures with movement.” I saw him turn on the fan and CD player and pick up another camera. “Go on” he said, “just close your eyes, listen to the music, and pretend that I’m not here”

I did as he asked, my feelings were so confusing. I didn’t even have words for them. The attraction that I felt for Michael was undeniable. I was doing was the most erotic thing that I had ever done before in my life. As I danced with my eyes closed, I could hear the sound of the camera snapping away. I could feel him as he moved around me. We were seducing each other. Michael was seducing me with the camera and I was seducing Michael through the lenses.

I no longer heard the sound of the camera, and felt that Michael was standing just behind me. I could feel his clothing as it brushed against my skin. With one hand, Michael moved the hair form my neck and the other hand came around me and held me by the stomach, pulling me into his hard body. His fingers slowly began to caress the sensitive skin on my neck and his lip slowly followed.

“Your still a virgin aren’t you Heather.” He whispered hot breath in my ear.

“Yes, Sir, I am.” I heard my tremulous voice answer as I leaned back against his body.

“Heather, say yes or no now, it’s not too late to stop.” His lips were slowly circling my ear and he drawled on, “But if we continue, they will be no stopping. Understand? You’ll need to trust me.”

He was holding me tight. The feeling of his control flooded my scenes. I was willing to follow wherever he led. My breathing became shallow as I answered.

“Please, Sir, I want to stay.

“That’s my girl,” softly whispering.

We swayed to the music for a few moments, bodies melding into one. His hands were warm as he moved them over my skin and unfastened my bra. Slowly moving his hands to my shoulders he slid the bra off. I tried to turn but he held me fast. I was unable to move, and the feeling of being controlled was intoxicating. I felt is hands moving down my sides and hooking the edges of my panties with his thumbs. He was guiding them down and off my legs, removing my shoes as he went. I was completely naked before him, and completely in his power.

Michael turned me around and stepped back to gaze at me from head to toe. I blushed crimson seeing the look in his eyes. Raw lust and desire burned there as I know it burned in mine. He moved slowly and cupped my face in his hands, locking his blue eyes onto mine. I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer and my eyes closed as his lips touched mine. He kissed me as if I had never experienced a kiss before in my life. They were slow, languid, and possessive, my world spun as his tongue caressed mine. He moved his hands and entwined his fingers in my hair tilting my head back, and began to kiss and suck on my neck. I never knew that my neck was so sensitive I started to moan softly. Michael took several steps backwards and the backs of my knees made contact with the bed, forcing me to sit.

“Move back and roll over on to your stomach,” He said, as his hands pushed on my shoulders.


Michael’s hands never left me as I obeyed. He spread my legs apart than stared at my feet, slowly caressing, squeezing, and licking. His hands were moving up my legs, I could feel his fingers dragging along my skin, leaving trails of hot fire in their wake. My mind was fixated on the point s where his hands touched my skin and the feeling was electric. The position made me feel so vulnerable and open. I could nothing but surrender to the feelings running through my body and mind. The sensations and the feelings he created within me were wonderful, new and unknown. His hands were on my ass, kneading, spreading my cheeks, as his finger drug along between them. I was embarrassed but excited all at the same time by such an intimate touch. Michael’s hands never stopped their exploration of my body as I felt his tongue move from the base of my spine to the nape of my neck.

“You’re lovely Heather” He breathed into my ear. “And do you remember why?”

I was confused, drunk on sensation, and I didn’t know what to say. My breathing and heart rate had become so erratic it was difficult to respond. I was finally able to let out a slow and uncertain “No, Sir”

“Your beautiful, Heather, because you… burn” He drawled.

His words struck home and I knew what he finally meant. He was right I did burn. I burned with a fire that I never knew existed before this moment. I was a body of glowing embers and he was the one stoking the fire. I was an inferno of lust and desire.

Michael turned me over and in his hands were leather restraints. He held them in front of me so I could see them. Our eyes met and he smiled.

“This is where the trust part comes in Heather.” Taking my wrists and fastening a restraint to each one. I was amazed that I didn’t resist as he tethered the restraints to he bed. The feeling of surrendering my self to be completely under his power was intoxicating. He was leading, I was following, and it felt so right.

Michael moved to my breasts taking one in each hand, kneading and squeezing, he traced my nipples with his tongue in small circles. Than he began to suck and softly bite each hard nipple, my body was moving of its on volition, undulating and writhing, under his masterful touch. I felt his hand moving down my body and was surprised as I opened my legs allowing him unimpeded access to a place that had never been touched before.

Michael slowly began dragging is fingers between my legs and I was rocked when he found his target. I never imagined the feelings his fingers were eliciting from my body were possible. With every circle of his fingers, with every push of gentle pressure, my body responded with warm folds of wetness. Every movement he made was jolting my body with intense pleasure. I was moaning loudly now straining against the bonds. Every nerve in my body was firing as conscious thought left me. I was feral, wonton, alive, lost in this moment in time. My body was his and he was playing me, moving from my breasts than back down to between my legs. I didn’t have words for what he was doing. I knew that I never wanted it to end. My head was rolling from side to side, I was moaning, almost begging but I didn’t know what I was begging for.
.
Michael was between my legs. I opened my eyes. He was naked. When he had taken off his clothes? I hadn’t noticed. The sight of him fired my imagination. I knew what was coming next, but than again I didn’t. The excitement and anticipation was too much for me to cope with.

“Look at me, Heather, don’t close your eyes, stay focused with me”

I opened my eyes, fixed onto his, my breathing was labored. I hissed “Yes Sir”

Time slowed and the universe opened, our eyes never wavering.

“You will call me Master, now” as he plunged in and pierced my soul.

[thrall]

I kneel at the feet of my Mentor, and give sincere thanks, for all his gracious help.

[Rhabbi]

High heat

Hello everyone.

I’m all about brutal truth and honesty. So please feel free to give me your best shots.

This is truly only the second story I have ever tried to write in my entire life so I won’t be offended by what you might say. Trust me I know how to laugh at myself, and won’t be hurt.

That being said……………

Dragons Muse stands on the mound, high heat blazing in her eyes, as the new untested slugger she walks out of the dugout.

Thrall steps up the plate, seeing the danger, she plants her feet and squares her shoulders. Knowing what’s about to come, she squints her eyes, ready for the pitch.

Dragons Muse winds up and sends a 100mph fast ball straight at Thralls head.

CRACK!

The sound reverberates through the stadium as all eyes see the bat shatter.

The ball is passing the mound, across the field, and over the high fence, and sunk to the bottom of the bay.

Sorry just a bit of nervous humor………..I couldn’t resist.

Now I just need to figure out how to cut and paste……….LOL

muse, since she hit this one off you, I am going to let you pick up the pieces.

[tessa]

Oh, thrall! It is such an erotically beautiful story! The "burn" you gave your character most certainly comes from within you.

I enjoyed every word. I was able to do so because you let me feel each one.

Wonderful.

~hugs~
tessa

[Dragon's muse]

i have seen this and will be back to give a thorough read and review. (BTW) my knuckle ball is better than my fast ball)

muse

[thrall]

God I hope not!!!!...........

[MrEmann]

I enjoyed the story immensely. Any other comments I may have, I will direct to the authoress herself.

[Dragon's muse]

Ok, Thrall. i'm slowly getting caught up after my puter's nervous breakdown. Your's is first on my list of things to shred --er i mean do tomorrow.

rose

[thrall]

as i shiver and tremble..........

[Dragon's muse]

DAMN! i'm sitting in a puddle as i type. This is pure prose poetry. Good characterization and i love the slow build. Dialogue rings true and smoldering foreplay. i hated to see the story end. This would make the start of a wonderful continuing D/s love story.

Now on to the ceremonial picking of the nits.

Your next assignment will be up today sometime.

Photo shoot

There are two major areas in this country for top models, New York and Los Angles. In Los Angeles if you want your portfolio to be the best you go to Michael Rhetman. He was the most in demand, highest paid and most exclusive photographer in the country. Models didn’t choose him to take there photos, he chose the models that he was willing to shoot, and I had a summer job with him.

My older sister was eighteen and one of the Agencies hottest models. When she would go on a photo shoot, I would sometimes tag along to watch. I enjoyed watching how the modeling business worked. It was all about beautiful faces, hot bodies, and not a brain cell between anyone’s ears. I was appalled and fascinated all at the same time. I had to admit it was fun to run with the fast and beautiful crowd.

The Agency was a living, breathing, feeding frenzy of human flesh. It was the modeling agency to sign with, and they wanted to sign me, badly. I was sixteen, and everything they could wish for in a model. I was young, beautiful, and had a great body; I would have fit right in, except for the fact that I had a brain. I found the idea repugnant. I didn’t want to be desired only for my body, so I always turned them down.

Models and photographers always filled The Agency, and today was no different. I was with my sister as she was booking her next job when Michael Rhetman came walking through the doors. He was in his late forties, average height and build, dark brown slightly graying hair and piercing sapphire blue eyes. The thing I noticed most about him wasn’t the way he looked but the way he felt. There was magnetism about him, his own gravity force that pulled everyone towards him. Despite all of that, he always held himself aloof, never engaging with anyone. He chose who he allowed to talk to him, and he talked to almost no one. My back was turned and I felt my hair move as someone whispered in my ear.

“Heather, I need someone for a summer internship, and I would like you to consider the job.”

I turned around, stunned that Rhetman was talking to me. I was stunned that he was offering me this job. I was also appalled at the jealous looks from the models that had heard the exchange. Of all the people, I couldn’t understand why he was asking me.

His blue eyes never left mine as he reached down and circled my wrist with his hand.

“Say yes, Heather, I’ll only offer you this job once,” This (either change the comma to a period or uncapatalize "this") was without mirth.

The feel of his hand wrapped securely around my wrist, blotted out the world. My soul answered before my brain had a chance to catch up. It was a surreal moment, I herd my voice answer “Yes, Mr. Rhetman, I would love the job.”

My brain finally caught up to what had just come out of my mouth, and yes indeed, I did want this job.

“When would you like me to start?”

I was surprised at how calm I felt. This was Michael Rhetman, world-class photographer, offering me a job, and all I could think about was that my nipples had just got hard, and (change comma to a semicolon and delete "and)I blushed crimson.

“I want you to start tomorrow morning and don’t be late,” I could feel his voice, deep and resonate in every, in cell of my body and it was exciting. “I’ll expect you at seven, sharp”
He released my wrist, than released my eyes as he handed me his card. “Remember, Heather, seven sharp”

He walked past me and out the door. In his wake, the room was silent. All eyes turned on me, and I blushed again.

The next morning I was a bundle of nervous, anxious energy, as I rang the studio bell. Michael answered the door, looked at me than his watch, and smiled.

“Good girl, you’re on time.” He said as he ushered me into the studio. “I have a shoot this morning so just follow me and we will see how well you do.”

“But, Mr. Rhetman, you need to tell me what you want me to do. I’ve never worked a photo shoot before,” smiling shyly.

“No, I’m not going to give you any direction. I know that you’ve been to several shoots so you have a general idea of what needs to be done with the models. Don’t call me Mr. Rhetman. I want you to call me Sir.” His eyes looked steadily into mine, waiting for an answer.

“Sir, if I understand you, you’re giving me a free hand to do what I want, with no direction at all.”

“That’s right, I want to see how you move through a shoot, how you move the models. I want to see what your eye tells you, if you know instinctively what the camera needs. So make no mistake about this, I will be watching every move you make.”

His eyes pierced my soul.

“We have about thirty minutes before everyone starts showing up. I want you to look around the studio and get a feel for the things here. Every thing and anything can be used as a prop in the shoot, so think about that as your (you're) working.”

The studio was the size of a small warehouse, filled with everything, including a kitchen sink. There were lamps, chairs, different kinds of sofas, boxes, crates, gym equipment, lots of medieval looking things, several different styles of beds, (semicolonyou name it, and it was here. The area that was going to be working in looked like a standard shoot, with a backdrop and lighting. Before I knew it, the studio, was filled with the bustling of models, make-up artists, and hair and clothing stylists.

Michael looked at me, nodded, and gave me a wink.

“Go ahead, Heather, tell them all what you want them to do”

“Yes, Sir” I said with trepidation. Turning towards the models, I arranged them how I thought a photo would look good. I moved them around, put them here and there, added fans and lighting. I got the feeling that Michael was watching me more than the models, but the day want off without any trouble. Everyone packed up and left and we were alone again.

“You did a good job today, Heather, thank you.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, fingers grazing the sensitive skin on my neck. I turned to look at him and he was gazing intently at me. Almost as if he was studying me.

“I’d like to take your photograph Heather.”

“Sir, I don’t want too. I’m not a photo kind of girl, sorry, but thanks for the offer anyway.”

I was amazed that he was asking to do this and it was flattering offer, but just not my thing.

“Yes I know, I’ve heard this about you around the Agency, its one of the reasons why you’re such an attractive subject. You don’t want to be a model, you don’t want you photo taken, and you’re not conceited. Come with me, I want to show you something before you go, Heather, and than you can decide if you want me to shoot you.”

He led me to his office.

“This is what I like to do, Heather,” opening several large portfolios. “I collect souls” His eyes had changed. Now they overflowed with smiling warmth. He was turning the pages of headshots over one by one and looking at each as if it was a long lost lover.

“If you look at these, Heather, they’re not just beautiful faces. These faces all speak with their hearts and souls. Look at their eyes. They all have depth of soul”. He sounded wistful as he said this.

He was right. The faces in these pictures weren’t just of models; these were pictures of the old and young, men and women of all shapes and sizes. Each photo spoke to me with a depth of character and emotion that I never knew was possible. This was pure art. I looked up and saw that he was watching me like a hawk (bit of a cliche here, the rest of your piece is so fresh that the cliche really jumps out, maybe find a way to reghrase)and it was thrilling.

“Sir, these are wonderful, but why would you want me”?

“Because, Heather, you burn, you smolder like the embers of a fire.”

I didn’t know what to say. I realized, (delete) he was paying me a complement. I had to say something. He was watching me and smiling, waiting to see how I would react.

“Sir, I’ll think about it.” I said as I walked out of the office to go home.

We worked like that for two months, sometimes with three shoots a day. Michael would tell me what he wanted and I would tell the models. We were always together and always only inches apart. The magnetism that he always seemed too exuded (to exude) was palpable. There was something about him, every time I came close, all of the hair on my body would stand on end. I found myself staring at him every chance I had, trying to figure it all out. I had this crazy idea that he was watching me through the camera, following me. The feelings that were coursing through me were confusing and thrilling. At the end of every day of shooting Michael would ask me the same question, ‘would I like him to take my photograph’ it had become our standing joke, (simplify here --"if i would like him to take my photograph; it bacame our standing joke,") because the answer was always the same. No.

The summer had ended and this was the last day of work. Michael and I had finished up and all of the crew and models had long since left. I was nervous and on edge, as we ate the remains of a cold pizza left over from lunch. I knew that he was going to ask the same question tonight just as he had done every other night, and the anticipation of the question was electric.

Our eyes met, his blue eyes holding mine

“Heather, I want to do a portfolio of you tonight. Understand I’m not talking about just a head shot, but a complete portfolio.” The statement was mater of fact, almost as if he knew my answer before I said it.

I knew that he wanted a head shot but this was something totally different. A complete portfolio could take hours to shoot. A portfolio meant full body shots and a lot of them. Even knowing what it was that he was asking I never missed a beat, and said, smiling, “Sir, I’d love to.”

“Good, I was hoping you were going to say that,” Michael smiled back at me. “In the top drawer of my desk you’ll find everything you’ll need. Just come out when you’re ready.”

I couldn’t say anything, all I could do was nod my head, as I turned and headed for the office. In the drawer was a set of fine black lace lingerie, bra, panties, and a pair of patent leather stilettos. I was stunned but willing to comply. Everything I needed was here for a world-class portfolio shoot.

I sat down at the makeup table and stared in the mirror. I needed to decide on a look, and based on the outfit I knew that it wasn’t going to be sweet and innocent. I decided on sultry. I knew the requirements for makeup in a professional photo were much different than in real life. You need to sculpt the contours of you face. Darker in the hollows, brightness on the high points, lips needed to be penciled and brows defined. I used a deep cherry red lipstick, and port wine blush. I created drama with the eyes in Smokey browns and grays, all farmed in thick black lashes. I decide on hair that was big and full, layers of hair that framed my face and fell over my shoulders and breasts. I put on the lingerie, and looked in the mirror, I never felt so sexy before in my life. As a finishing touch I added blush to the contour of my breast and nipples and a dusting of body glimmer all over. I could do this I kept telling myself, and walked into the studio.


Michael was standing at his work station setting up the cameras. What I wasn’t expecting was that he had rearranged the shoot set to include a large bed. I was nervous about this but said nothing.

“Very nice Heather” Michael drawled. “Come and sit on the bed and let me look at you.” He took me by the wrist and sat me down, clearly appraising how I looked. I could see his eyes roving over my almost naked body, and a shiver ran down my spine, as I basked under his praise.

“Alright Heather, I’m going to start with just a few of you sitting like this until your more comfortable” He turned on the lights and I was flooded in white light. I could feel the heat on my skin. He picked up a camera and started to shoot. I was scared and tense so I closed my eyes.

“Good Heather, that’s good just relax and breathe,” I heard him saying. I could feel the tension in my body ebbing and (change 'and' to a semicolon) I was becoming softer, looser, and more comfortable with every passing moment.

“Now get on the bed on your hands and knees, let your head fall forward and shake your hair.” He said. This was unexpected, the feeling of being directed, being told what to do, and doing it. The feeling of Michaels control over me was stirring my soul. I couldn’t explain why. I crawled onto the bed and did as instructed. Michael moved me form ("from" -- i haven't done a scientific study, but i think this might be the most common typo on the world.) one position to another, moving my arms and legs to the positions he wanted. His hands felt like fire on my skin wherever he touched me, and he was always whispering words of encouragement in my ear.

“Good girl” Michael continued to drawl. “Now I want you to stand and slow dance for me. I need some pictures with movement.” I saw him turn on the fan and CD player and pick up another camera. “Go on,” he said, “just close your eyes, listen to the music, and pretend that I’m not here.”

I did as he asked, my feelings were so confusing. I didn’t even have words for them. The attraction that I felt for Michael was undeniable. I was doing was the most erotic thing that (delete- 'that' is seldom necessary and should always be regarded with grave suspicion) I had ever done before in my life. As I danced with my eyes closed, I could hear the sound of the camera snapping away. I could feel him as he moved around me. We were seducing each other. Michael was seducing me with the camera, and I was seducing Michael through the lenses.

I no longer heard the sound of the camera, and felt that Michael was standing just behind me. I could feel his clothing as it brushed against my skin. With one hand, Michael moved the hair form (from)my neck, and the other hand came around me and held me by the stomach, pulling me into his hard body. His fingers slowly began to caress the sensitive skin on my neck and his lip slowly followed.

“Your still a virgin aren’t you Heather. (change to a question mark)” He whispered hot breath in my ear.

“Yes, Sir, I am.” I heard my tremulous voice answer as I leaned back against his body.

“Heather, say yes or no now, it’s not too late to stop.” His lips were slowly circling my ear and he drawled on, “But if we continue, they will be no stopping. Understand? You’ll need to trust me.”

He was holding me tight. The feeling of his control flooded my scenes (senses). I was willing to follow wherever he led. My breathing became shallow as I answered.

“Please, Sir, I want to stay.

“That’s my girl,” softly whispering.

We swayed to the music for a few moments, bodies melding into one. His hands were warm as he moved them over my skin and unfastened my bra. Slowly moving his hands to my shoulders he slid the bra off. I tried to turn but he held me fast. I was unable to move, and the feeling of being controlled was intoxicating. I felt is hands moving down my sides and hooking the edges of my panties with his thumbs. He was guiding them down and off my legs, removing my shoes as he went. I was completely naked before him, and completely in his power.

Michael turned me around and stepped back to gaze at me from head to toe. I blushed crimson seeing the look in his eyes. Raw lust and desire burned there, as I know it burned in mine. He moved slowly and cupped my face in his hands, locking his blue eyes onto mine. I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, and my eyes closed as his lips touched mine. He kissed me as if (delete) I had never experienced a kiss before in my life. They were slow, languid, and possessive, my world spun as his tongue caressed mine. He moved his hands and entwined his fingers in my hair tilting my head back, and began to kiss and suck on my neck. I never knew that my neck was so sensitive; I started to moan softly (simplify to "I moaned softly.". Michael took several steps backwards and the backs of my knees made contact with the bed, forcing me to sit.

“Move back and roll over on to your stomach,” He said, as his hands pushed on my shoulders.


Michael’s hands never left me as I obeyed. He spread my legs apart, than (i think you meant 'then" here, but change it to "and") stared at my feet, slowly caressing, squeezing, and licking. His hands were moving up my legs, I could feel his fingers dragging along my skin, leaving trails of hot fire in their wake. My mind was fixated on the point s (delete) where his hands touched my skin, and the feeling was electric. The position made me feel so vulnerable and open. I could (do) nothing but surrender to the feelings running through my body and mind. The sensations and the feelings (delete)he created within me were wonderful, new and unknown. His hands were on my ass, kneading, spreading my cheeks, as his finger drug along between them. I was embarrassed, but excited all at the same time by such an intimate touch. Michael’s hands never stopped their exploration of my body, as I felt his tongue move from the base of my spine to the nape of my neck.

“You’re lovely Heather” He breathed into my ear. “And do you remember why?”

I was confused, drunk on sensation, and I didn’t know what to say. My breathing and heart rate had become so erratic it was difficult to respond. I was finally able to let out a slow and uncertain “No, Sir”

“Your beautiful, Heather, because you… burn” He drawled.

His words struck home and I knew what he finally meant. He was right --I did burn. I burned with a fire that I never knew existed before this moment. I was a body of glowing embers and he was the one stoking the fire. I was an inferno of lust and desire.

Michael turned me over and in his hands were leather restraints. He held them in front of me so I could see them. Our eyes met and he smiled.

“This is where the (delete)trust part (delete) comes in, Heather.” Taking my wrists and fastening a restraint to each one (fragment "He took my wrists and fastened a restraint to each one.". I was amazed that (delete) I didn’t resist as he tethered the restraints to he bed. The feeling of (delete and capitalize "surrendering")surrendering my self (one word) to be completely under (simplify to "completely to")his power was intoxicating. He was leading, (change to semicolon) I was following, and it felt so right.

Michael moved to my breasts taking one in each hand, kneading and squeezing, he traced my nipples with his tongue in small circles. Than he began to suck and softly bite each hard nipple, my body was moving of its on volition, undulating and writhing, under his masterful touch. I felt his hand moving down my body and was surprised as I opened my legs allowing him unimpeded access to a place that had never been touched before.

Michael slowly began dragging is fingers between my legs and I was rocked when he found his target. I never imagined the feelings his fingers were eliciting from my body were possible. With every circle of his fingers, with every push of gentle pressure, my body responded with warm folds of wetness. Every movement he made was jolting my body with intense pleasure. I was moaning loudly now straining against the bonds. Every nerve in my body was firing as conscious thought left me. I was feral, wonton (wanton), alive, lost in this moment in time. My body was his and he was playing me, moving from my breasts than back down to between my legs. I didn’t have words for what he was doing. I knew that I never wanted it to end. My head was rolling from side to side, I was moaning, almost begging, but I didn’t know what I was begging for.
.
Michael was between my legs. I opened my eyes. He was naked. When he had taken off his clothes? I hadn’t noticed. The sight of him fired my imagination. I knew what was coming next, but than again (delete) I didn’t. The excitement and anticipation was too much for me to cope with.

“Look at me, Heather, don’t close your eyes, stay focused with me”

I opened my eyes, fixed onto his, my breathing was labored. I hissed “Yes Sir”

Time slowed and the universe opened, our eyes never wavering.

“You will call me Master, now” as he plunged in and pierced my soul.

[thrall]

Thank you......

[Beswitchingly Positive]

Wow, what a good story! I liked the characters. I especially the pacing of the romance, the months of him waiting to really put the moves on her...this is smoking hot, very believeable. The setting was hot, the tension was hot, the action was very hot...just, well, did I mention it was hot? Like Dragon's muse, I wanted more.

My goodness, I have to ask, how does one manage to write and post more than 6000 times since May? Wow.

Very nice offering.

Beswitchingly

[Clevernick]

...and it's out of the park! That ball is going to have Thrall's name on it. The crowd sighs in unison as their heads follow it past the fence....

That was super hot. The girl can write. Wow. Ok, you asked me to be merciless, so:

Dragon's muse has already fixed up punctuation, but there are some other nits I'd like to pick too.

First paragraph needs some tense-smoothing. It starts in present and ends up in the past. It's not clear if it's the recent past or the distant past, but appears to be distant since you discuss how old you were.

The following suggestions are not necessarily the best way to do it, but they're one way:

There are two major areas in this country for top models, New York and Los Angeles. In Los Angeles if you wanted your portfolio to be the best you went to Michael Rhetman. He was the most in demand, the highest paid and the most exclusive photographer in the country. Models didn’t choose him to take their photos; he chose the models that he was willing to shoot.

[I'd love a new paragraph here.]
I once had a summer job with him.

The story roars along beautifully and realistically after this, never letting me escape until here:

Before I knew it, the studio, (delete comma) was filled with the bustling of models, make-up artists, and hair and clothing stylists.

Michael looked at me, nodded, and gave me a wink.

“Go ahead, Heather, tell them all what you want them to do.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said with trepidation. Turning towards the models, I arranged them how I thought a photo would look good. I moved them around, put them here and there, added fans and lighting.

I escaped because I knew that calling the chaos of models and make-up artists and stylists into a semblance of order, without interrupting important preparation, would be a really intimidating task (for anyone, not just a 16-year-old with no experience), and I was hoping to see how she handled it. Even a sentence or two would help me continue believing it was possible. Without any hint, I just felt like Heather had skipped an important bit. A bit that would also build character and atmosphere, as well as keeping me hooked.

I was going to suggest something, but it's better that you do.

I am also tempted to fiddle with a couple of the longer paragraphs. You tend to make more small errors in these for some reason, and in many cases they can be broken up to better effect anyway. I'll just do one:

I sat down at the makeup table and stared in the mirror. I needed to decide on a look, and based on the outfit I knew that it wasn’t going to be sweet and innocent. I decided on sultry. [P]

I knew the requirements for makeup in a professional photo were much different than in real life. You needed to sculpt the contours of your face. Darker in the hollows, brightness on the high points, lips needed to be penciled and brows defined. (P maybe, not sure)
I used a deep cherry red lipstick, and port wine blush. I created drama with the eyes in smokey browns and grays, all framed (not farmed) in thick black lashes. I decided on hair that was big and full, layers of hair that framed my face and fell over my shoulders and breasts. [P]

I put on the lingerie, and looked in the mirror. I had never felt so sexy before in my life. As a finishing touch I added blush to the contour of my breasts and nipples, and a dusting of body glimmer all over. I could do this, I kept telling myself, and walked into the studio.

[moptop]

Thrall, I loved, loved, loved this story. Very hot! I think enough nits have been picked for the moment. Except perhaps one, maybe I'm repeating someone else and havn't read through the posts properly - you latch on the word 'drawl' for how Michael speaks once he is seducing her. It is used too many times. Can you find some other words instead?