Picture Perfect · Part 1

Picture Perfect · Part 1 (1/2)
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Part 1

God, how I hate New Year’s Eve parties, everyone trying to have a good time at any cost. I’d rather be home in my jammies watching some trashy movies and waiting for the ball to drop so that I could go to bed.

Jen, Kati and Rebecca insisted that I had to go. We were all between significant others, as we liked to say. Actually Jen was between marriages, waiting for her second, or was it third, divorce to become final. What a sorry bunch, but we were managing to have some fun, mainly by cutting on everyone else at the party.

We were at the local country club, which always had this annual bash. I had never been to it before, but Jen was a member having received that honor as part of her divorce settlement from husband no. 1, I think.

It was a posh club with everyone dressed to the nines and trying to outdo everyone else in every possible way. I was overdosing on crab dip and smiling politely. Small talk is not my forte, so I avoided eye contact a lot. I was really not looking for a hookup. I had been there and done that and was really involved in work at the moment. How pathetic is that rationalization?

I was getting another glass of wine at the bar, when a woman behind me in the line said hello. I turned to smile politely and saw that it was the gal that had arrived with an absolutely gorgeous man, a guy that even turned my head. This couple was so attractive that we didn’t even try to find fault with them: we were just green with envy! It was really very funny how quiet we became as we studied that couple making their grand entrance!

His name was Sarah something or other and she seemed to be very nice. I assumed she was a member of the club, but she didn’t have that country club manner that I found so off-putting. She asked if I were a member; I wondered if she thought I was a party-crasher or something! I explained I was with my friends, one of which was a member from a previous marriage. We were clogging up the bar so we moved away, but stayed together. This was probably going to be the highlight of my night, so I figured what the heck! It wouldn’t hurt to talk to her.

We sat at table off to the right of the bar and continued our conversation. It was the typical “What do you do” and “Oh! That’s wonderful! What do you do” talk two strangers fall into at these affairs. Despite my small talk deficiency, it was a comfortable conversation. She really came alive when she talked about her photography hobby. I had an interest in it also, except that I hadn’t done much with it for a while.

My antennae went up when she said I ought to be a model. Was she putting a move on me? I mean I wouldn’t mind if she was, but I was staying away from relationships after the last disaster. I was sort of flattered because she was physically attractive, but the “you should be a model approach” was very lame. If must have shown in my expression because she laughed and said she had better pick-up lines than that, but she kept coming back to it. Not obnoxiously pushy, but persistent. Finally to move on I said maybe I would like to try it sometime.

She fished around in her bag and produced a business card and handed it to me. It said “Binding Productions”. I thought it was an odd name, but didn’t ask about it. I slipped the card into my purse and got up to leave. As we stood up, she said, “By the way, I don’t know if I mentioned that I specialize in a particular kind of photographs? Have you ever heard of ‘Bondage’?”

I hope my mouth didn’t pop open at that question! I said, “You mean like naked men and women with whips and chains? Like pornography?” I was repelled and fascinated at the same time. Kind of like being eyeball to eyeball with a poisonous snake!

“Oh no, not like that at all! These are very tastefully done art studies of the female form. The only difference and, I admit it is a big difference, is that the female is bound. I have a web site. The address is on the card. If you get some time, look it up. I am sure you will be pleasantly surprised. Well, Anne, it was nice meeting you. Maybe I will see you again…who knows?”

With that she walked away! I shook my head and went to find the girls. I found Jen first.

“Jen, you won’t believe this! You know that gal, the nice looking one with the beautiful man? Well! I was talking to her…”

“You talked to her? How did that happen?”

“Never mind that. Listen! She’s a photographer…well she’s a businesswoman, but does photography on the side. Anyway, she photographs, get this, tied up women! For some web site! And she said I could be a model on the site!”

“Are you going to do it?”

“Am I going to do it? Are you nuts? I don’t know this gal from Eve! I’m going to let her tie me up?”

“Did I tell you David was into that? He used to like to tie me to the bed and…”

“Jen! Please! I don’t need to hear that right now!”

Just then the other gals showed up. Jen broadcast the latest news for them, “Hey, Annie is going to let that great looking gal, you know the one with the guy in the tux, tie her up and take pictures!”

They all started babbling at once. I said, “Annie is not going to let her do that. It was just a conversation!” I shot a ‘shut-up’ glance at Jen, who looked back at me with innocent eyes.

The New Year arrived and everyone toasted it and each other. After another hour or so the party was breaking up and people were leaving. I did a quick scan of the room and saw Sarah exit with her friend. I shrugged and went to get my coat.

The next day, New Year’s Day, was a traditional lay-around-and-do-nothing day. I was going to meet Jen later for dinner, but I had some time to kill. I watched some of the Rose Parade and was looking for something to do to escape the damn football games. I cleaned out the purse that I had at the party last night. I found Sarah’s card in amongst the other junk I carried. I took it out and studied it. It did have the web address.

Hmmm! I tapped the card against my chin as I thought about it. Why not take a look! I fired up the computer and searched for the site. Sure enough, there it was! I waded through the disclaimer and adult permission stuff and entered the site. There was picture on the home page of a nude woman, her face in a hood and her body covered with ropes. She was arranged in a sitting position with her arms behind her and legs angled off to the side. There was nothing pornographic about it unless the whole idea meant pornography to you.

I clicked on the samples link and went through the pictures. They showed a variety of female models in all kinds of different poses. Some of the positions they were tied in looked very strenuous and difficult. I didn’t recognize the woman I met last night, but sometimes it was hard to tell who was who and if she ran the site, she probably wouldn’t model too anyway. I checked the join page, thinking I would get a more in-depth sense of what they did, but it was too pricey!

I had to admit to a certain fascination with the pictures. I had always been attracted to the offbeat and this certainly qualified as that. I had never been tied up except during kiddy games. I wondered what it felt like. I went back through the samples again, interest…(excitement?) stirring in my head. I tried to ignore that the idea of being tied up was tickling me somewhere else.

There were links to other sites. I clicked on several of them and saw that the style and intensity of bondage varied a lot from site to site. Some sites just seemed to drape the rope on the models while Sarah’s site seemed to really get into it. Also, there was a degree of specialization apparent as some sites did secretaries and in others the models were all barefoot or wore pantyhose and so on!

Having acquired a little bit of education on bondage, I had to admit I was still intrigued. To learn more I knew I had to talk to Sarah. What could be the risk in just talking?

Before I could change my mind, I dialed the number printed on the card. An answering machine picked up. It was a recorded female voice stating that I had indeed called Binding Productions and asking that I leave a message. I almost hung up again, but finally said, “Hi! This is Anne…Anne Woolsey from the other night? Umm…I was wondering…well, give me a call, OK? My number is 555-1212.”

I hung up, my pulse pounding. What had I just done?

I’d like to say that I had almost forgotten that I had called Sarah when she finally phoned the next day. Yeah, right! It had been in the back of my mind all day and had prodded me to check my voice mail several times. I told her I had a bunch of questions related to modeling and her approach and wanted to hear her answers. I had written a list of questions. She agreed to spend some time answering my questions; I found the list and started asking.

We talked for about an hour with Sarah answering all my questions in what, I’m sure, was intended to be a reassuring manner. And I was reassured… somewhat! From our meeting the other night and this conversation, I knew she wasn’t a mouth-breathing cretin. But every time the police catch a serial killer everyone who knew her (or him) are shocked and swear that she always seemed to be such a nice, normal person! I know! A little to drama queen-ish, but we weren’t talking about having tea. This woman wanted to restrain me, basically make me her helpless prisoner. A little due diligence would be prudent!

Sarah asked if I had seen the site. I told her yes, but only the samples. I knew that if I were to go ahead with this I would have to join and see all of it. She surprised me by giving me a user name and password to access the whole site. I thanked her and said I would check into it very soon.

I asked about the details of what actually happens during a modeling session. She spelled out the typical routine for a photo shoot in detail and said that it was pretty straightforward. She asked if I had a problem with appearing partially nude. They didn’t do full nudity, she explained, except for special requests that were available only privately to certain subscribers. That got my attention. Apparently, they were running some other business behind the scenes. Sensing my concern, she explained that the site offered photos and videos to members showing situations that had been requested by the member.

Some of the models had agreed to do these side projects, which never appeared on the site. She assured me that it was strictly voluntary on the part of the models and while a bit more risqué, not pornographic and never involved sexual penetration. Her explanation mollified me somewhat, but made me aware that there might be a darker side to Sarah that I should be aware of.

She went on to explain that I might have to do a little acting sometimes to make the photos realistic, but basically I was just a prop. The ropes and how they were applied were really the star. I thought that it wasn’t such a great selling point to be objectified, but didn’t mention it. I figured that was the whole point of bondage! A female (or male, I guess) who couldn’t move or talk or see, but was still sexually viable, what could be more enticing to a certain kind of person? I didn’t have a problem with that. If I were going to do it would be for my benefit and the collateral benefit to the people seeing the pictures would be OK.

Sarah said she was out of town until Friday, but we could do a session as soon as Saturday, if I felt I was ready. I froze a bit at that, thinking I had several weeks to ponder this. We left it that I would call the studio before Saturday and leave a message if I wanted to do it. She assured me that if I decided not to do it Saturday, or at all, there wouldn’t be any problem. They had enough material to update the site for several weeks and they were always recruiting.

Finally, she told me I could bring someone if I thought I needed support. Boyfriends weren’t so good because they tended to get “edgy”, whatever that meant. Well I had no boyfriend or girlfriend to get edgy and I sure as hell wasn’t going to bring Jen or any other casual woman friend. They already had their doubts about my sanity! No… if I was going to do this it was going to be on my own.

After we hung up, I remembered some things I hadn’t put on my list. Two things actually and they weren’t lightweight concerns! One was that I didn’t want my brother or my boss or the guy down the street or my client to see my picture on this site. Would my face be hidden? Not would… it had to be hidden! God, how could I forget to ask that? The other concern was that I really, really didn’t want to be touched in a sexual way. The wrong answer to either would be a deal breaker!

I needed to talk to Sarah about that. She had said that her assistant could answer any questions while she was away and had given me another number to call. Well, those two needed answering and maybe I would come up with more.

I had to see the site. I got on the Internet and pulled up the site. I went to the member page and used the codes Sarah had given me and I was into the member’s page. It was well done; I had to admit that! There were no spelling or grammar errors in the text, the graphics were tastefully laid out and the links were well organized and easy to follow. The text didn’t have a hysterical tone to it. It basically said there are tied up women on this site and we do it well. But I wasn’t here to critique the site layout; I wanted to see the content!

There were links to current and archived sets of pictures. I picked one archived set at random and waited for the thumbnail pictures to load. This particular set involved the kidnapping of a woman in her home. A masked man appeared after the woman arrived home and grabbed her. There were progressive shots of the woman being tied, some with the man in the picture, others without. During the tying, the woman lost more of her clothes until she was tied in her bra and panties. The woman was put into harder and more difficult positions as the pictures went on. There were about 75 pictures all totaled. At the end the woman was left to struggle alone on her bed.

There was a little text with the pictures to explain the situation. That particular layout did play into a long-buried fantasy I had had over the years of being kidnapped for ransom. It was probably why I picked to look at first. I hadn’t fantasized about that for a long while, but that series of pictures brought it back.

I clicked on another set and was surprised to see Sarah in the pictures. She wasn’t the tied-up model though. She was dressed in some kind of tight black outfit and was tying the model. And she was doing a little more than just tying. This particular woman was topless and had some kind of clamps on her nipples and Sarah’s hands all over her. Now that was a detail that she hadn’t mentioned! Seeing that made me uncomfortable and I added it to the things still needing clarification!

I checked other sets and saw women bound in positions I didn’t think were possible to endure. It was clear that this site practiced serious bondage. It was also clear that there was nothing faked about it. The ropes were tight and dug into the skin of the women. All the models had a certain look of suffering or strain or something on their faces that may have been acting, but may also have been real. The pictures had a realism that was at once scary and fascinating to me. I found that I was projecting myself into the pictures, trying to feel what it would be like to be tied like that.

There were other sets with Sarah as the tier. I became less uncomfortable as I saw more of what she was doing in the pictures. She seemed to know what she was doing, but for all I knew, someone else did the tying and she just stepped in for the photos.

I spent an hour or so exploring the site. They were a few videos along with a message stating that there would be more in the future. I saw what Sarah was talking about when she said that models had to act a bit. It wasn’t really acting, just struggling and grunting and talking while gagged. It didn’t look that hard! It became clear that a little cloth gag like on TV was not what they dealt in. Most of the woman had their mouths stuffed with cloth covered with heavy tape or had balls strapped into their mouths or round rings that held their mouths open. Another detail she didn’t mention!

At the end of each set, the model was shown in varying degrees of untied, posing with a smile for the camera as she removed ropes. I guessed that was to show that it was all in fun and no one was harmed during the making of the photos. I was surprised that the models were so brazen as to show their faces, but then figured they were pros that wanted the exposure. That would not be me!

And all the women were well… very attractive. I didn’t look like these women! Why had Sarah asked me if I wanted to model? It could be she asked every woman she met, recruiting as she had put it, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself. This newfound sense of inadequacy was something I would have to get over if I was going to do this.

I was on all sides of it as to whether I would do it. I had to admit that looking at the pictures generated a little buzz of excitement that vibrated under my anxiety. I had never ignored that little buzz. It was my gut telling me that I really wanted to do something, even though, intellectually, I had misgivings. One of the misgivings was that artful photography aside, this was probably a jack-off site, as my brother would say. Did I want to be jack off material? I knew that I would be doing this because I wanted to not because I was being coerced. I assumed the other women were also not coerced. Did it make it more acceptable to be objectified if I did it voluntarily?

I signed off the site and decided to sleep on it.

When I awoke in the morning, I made the decision to go ahead. I wasn’t really sure why. It might have been just to experience it or because I was a latent bondage freak or a blatant exhibitionist or none of the above. All I knew was that my buzz was telling me to do it!

I called the studio and talked to Sarah’s assistant, who seemed very nice on the phone and told him I would do it, but that I had a few follow up questions. He said he thought something could be worked out about keeping my face hidden and he assured me that any sexual contact would only be with my consent. His responses satisfied me, but I decided that I would bring it up again when I went to their studio just to make sure. I wanted to hear it from Sarah! He told me to be at the studio at 9:00 am Saturday, gave me the address and signed off saying he was eager to meet me. I wondered if he was the guy at the party with Sarah. It would be a nice bonus to see him again!

After I got off the phone, the buzz became outright excitement, consequences be damned. I was going to be a bondage model!

On Saturday morning, I was up early; I had barely slept at all. I showered, dressed in jeans and a cream turtleneck top with brown leather knee length boots and was out the door in record time. As Sarah had suggested, I was bringing along other outfits. I had a business suit, a skirt and blouse, slacks, some pantyhose and tights and a couple of changes of undies. I also brought heels and the one racy lingerie item I owned, a garter belt, with some black thigh highs. From my visit to the site, I had noticed that the manner of dress varied so I brought a lot of stuff. I am an over-packer anyway and always tend to bring too much stuff.

I found the address easily enough, but had to circle the block several times before I found a space to park. Before I lost my nerve, I collected my stuff from the back seat and scurried the several blocks to the building. The studio was in the city in an up-and-coming neighborhood that seemed to be a mix of small storefronts and apartments. The building itself was non-descript, two stories tall, presenting just a brick facade and metal door to passersby at street level. There was a row of windows on the second floor. A small sign to the left of the door announced the occupant and instructed visitors to ring the bell. I rang it, shifting from one foot to the other and looking around to see who might be watching. Of course, no one paid me the slightest attention, but I was verging on anxiety overload!

A man answered the door, smiling and reaching out to take my clothes bag from me. He was the guy from the party, dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt. I scooted in the door as quickly as I could. He locked up and led me up the stairs. My heart was pounding and my hands were sweating.

We entered a large room with high ceilings that took up most of the area. There were also two doors at the back of the room. Parts of room were flooded with light from several skylights and the front windows while other parts were shadowed or walled off with partial partitions. There were several furniture arrangements and groupings, like stage sets, spaced around the room. Some of the stuff I had seen in the photos on the website. I looked around and seeing all the photo equipment, I was reassured that this was really a photo studio.

A woman was fussing with some equipment when we came into the room. It took a moment for me to realize that it was Sarah. She couldn’t have looked more different! In place of the glamorous gown, she was dressed all in black. Her carefully coiffed hair had morphed into a spiky gelled concoction. She wore worn original style Dr Martens, black tights, a just-barely-cover-her-butt mini skirt and a hoodie that looked several sizes too small. She also had several piercings glinting from various facial appendages and wore fingerless Michael Jackson gloves and a choker collar. I must have been staring at her, because she laughed out loud as she came over to me.

“Yeah, it’s the real me, Anne! Nice to see you!” She hugged me and gave me an air kiss. She was friendly and easygoing as she had been when I talked to her on the phone. I began to relax a bit or as much as the situation allowed. She introduced me to Matt, her brother, partner and assistant. Sarah explained that he was the rigger usually, but that they did swap off depending on the situation. Both of them worked the cameras.

Matt gave me a quick tour of the place and helped me arrange my stuff in a side room that would be a dressing room. Then he and Sarah took me through the paper work. I listened intently and signed some papers, a release form and some other things. I am a process-oriented person, so the ritual of going about the mundane paper work issues kind of soothed me. Also, the professional attitude and behavior of Matt and Sarah helped to relax me.

Sarah checked her watch and said we should get started. I made sure again that they understood that I didn’t want my face visible and I didn’t want to be touched sexually. Sarah readily agreed to both conditions and explained how they would hide my face, basically with a big gag and a blindfold.

I became nervous again as she explained what they were going to do first. They would probably do three or four sets depending on the available time. She also explained that she or Matt would guide me as to how they wanted me to pose, but that she didn’t want me to just sit and wait to be told what to do. I hoped I could get into it enough to be able to struggle convincingly. The whole thing was beginning to sound and feel a little bit… well, silly! She went over the safe word thing and we settled on me snapping my fingers as the signal that I was uncomfortable or in distress.

Then there was nothing left to do, but do it!

For the first situation, I was going to be tied up in a chair wearing the clothes I walked in with. That suited me fine! I wasn’t ready to take off my clothes just yet!

They wanted my wrists tied in front of me. At the moment I offered him my hands and he began to tie them, I felt a little jolt of something quite similar to sexual arousal run through me. That was interesting!

I was fascinated by the way he quickly wrapped my wrists with neat parallel loops. Several passes between my wrists drew the loops around them tight and I noticed he tied the knot on the underside, out of sight. He tied my ankles apart to the chair legs again cinching, as he called it, between my legs and the chair legs. He tied some more loops around my chest. I became more and more a part of the chair. I tested the tightness of the rope by shifting and pulling my limbs and body. It was tight, but not uncomfortable. And it was not an unpleasant feeling! The final rope pulled my hands forward as he fastened it to the front stretcher on the chair.

He asked if I was OK and I barely got out a yes. My throat was dry and I was sort of panting. He let me a sip of water and explained again that if I was having trouble, I should snap my fingers and they would immediately release me. I practiced doing it and felt reassured.

Then he asked if I had ever been gagged; I had not. He asked if I had a low threshold for gagging. I had no reference point for that, but said no. I almost giggled as I thought of oral sex and my experience with that. If I didn’t gag doing that I should be okay here, but I kept that little tidbit to myself.

He began to pack a cloth into my mouth. I had to work at getting it comfortable and to get used to it. The cloth filled and stuck to the inside on my mouth. I fought down the urge to gag and finally began to adjust to the sensation. He wrapped an ace bandage around the lower half of my face compressing my cheeks against the cloth inside my mouth. I had concentrate to keep my gag reflex under control. Matt stopped and asked if I was all right. I sat quietly for a moment and decided that I could tolerate it, nodding my head in assent. He told me to tell them immediately if there was a problem. No need to worry about that!

The last thing was a red bandana blindfold that shut out all light, even the bright photo lights. I sat there feeling the ropes and the oddness of having no sight and no ability to talk. I was breathing in spastic little breaths through my nose and I heard myself making little grunting noises.

Matt told me they were going to start photographing; it was time to earn my money.

About the only thing I could really move was my head, but, frankly, I kind of just woodenly sat there because I didn’t know what to do.

Matt began to coach me. He asked that I tilt my head up and arch my back, while trying to pull my hands free. Then he wanted me to twist to the side, first one way and then the other. As he suggested one pose and then another, I began to get what they were looking for and I began to get a little buzz from it.

I could hear the beep of the camera as I twisted about on the chair. The chair itself was making a squeaking noise. I know I was making involuntary grunts and sounds just like I had heard in the videos. I moved my head from side to side and rolled my shoulders. I was able to close my legs somewhat and was surprised to feel a twitch of arousal between my legs. I waggled my knees from side to side and shifted my hips. It felt very good! Every once in a while Matt would ask me to stop and hold a pose or to move slightly this way or that, but generally he left me alone.

At some point, I forgot about the cameras and focused right down on the feeling of restraint, the tightness, the pressure and tension of my bindings. I wanted to feel all the ropes. I wanted to test them, but I didn’t want them to come loose. I passed into a calm almost peaceful zone, even as I continued to move and struggle against the restraints.

At the same time I tried to envision scenarios where this situation would be real and found that I could put myself into a damsel-in-distress mindset. I was actually able to make it seem real, which was scary and exciting to me. I soldiered on in my own little world until I felt a hand on my shoulder and Matt’s voice in my ear. “Good, Anne! Great! We’re all done with this one!”

I stopped moving, breathing hard. I was so surprised at my reaction to this! I had no idea that this was how it would be. I went into this with a ‘show me’ attitude, kind of thinking that I wanted to try it, but that I wouldn’t like it or would find it ridiculous. I had found that I did like it… a lot!

As he began to untie the ropes, I felt a little disappointment as if I wanted to stay tied. As the ropes fell away and I began to cool off, I began to shiver. I wasn’t sure whether I was feeling a chill or was having withdrawal pangs.

When the gag was out, Matt and Sarah invited me to watch as they downloaded the images. They explained how they would crop and enhance the photos that needed it, but indicated that overall they, so far anyway, were pleased. I watched, fascinated, as they brought up and enlarged pictures of little old me all tied up and I had to admit that they looked just like the other photos on the site. I remember Sarah saying that the rope was the star of the show and seeing my body wrapp

Picture Perfect · Part 1 (1/2)
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