Playpen Model

 


BlueBelle easily get's a job at Peter's Playpen... a somewhat sleazy shoot-your-own photos place... long known to be a favorite for prostitutes wanting a way to hook up with johns... but with a number of women having gone missing... and one turning up dead... Belle has decided it is time someone investigated... because even these women have a right to be protected...

The setup fairly simple... most of the punters coming in to shoot their own glamour photos... some attempting to hook up after... but the girls mostly wanting none of it... Peter's discouraging that... though you have heard whispers of a 'Deluxe Shoot Your Own Service'... allegedly at $100,000 per time...

BlueBelle takes a deep breath and prepares to meet her first client... stepping out on deep blue heels... getting a satisfying gulp as she removes her white robe... revealing a brilliant blue satin panty and bra set... the top half of each bra cup a lacey see-through window... the top portion of the front of the panty designed to match...

The client not looking like the 'deluxe' type... fingers twitching on his camera... as he takes one shot... then another... getting some confidence as he starts to stammer instructions... telling you to turn this way and that... to bend over... stick out your bottom and look over your shoulder... gaining confidence as he snaps... the results digitally sent to a board in the foyer... advertising your services as a model...

BlueBelle tries not to overplay it... feigning to be a bit disinterested as she bends... and turns... and thrusts her hip out... shaking back her flames of hair and rolling her eyes at one point... eyes that are actually watching for anything peculiar... but realizing there are no guarantees she will find out anything right away...

The customer finishing his roll of film... making some half-stammered enquiries about possible extras... but quickly sent away... as Peter himself enters... Peter Sheepshank... a tall handsome man with a thick moustache... vaguely familiar... "Excellent work... if you could fit another customer in, I'd appreciate it... this one might be interested in the deluxe package... of course, you'd get a percentage of that..."

BlueBelle blinks... "What's a deluxe package... I could use extra money... but I'm not here to solicit sex with customers you understand... I'm not that kind of... woman..." nodding and smiling... chomping on some gum... "So how much and what do I do?"

The owner smiling... "Well, you'd get a grand... but you certainly wouldn't have to solicit anything... the deluxe package is just an extra element to the whole 'shoot your own' idea..." He chuckles... "Anyway, if you follow me... we have a luxury studio for these special clients..." Ushering you out of the main one... and down a long corridor... past a pair of unsmiling guards...

BlueBelle slips on her robe and follows... belting it tightly... proving she still has a small waist... made to look even smaller by the generous curves everywhere else... "So I guess this involves stripping on down or something?" her senses are on alert... her heart rate up...

Mr. Sheepshank nodding... "Well, the client would like to see a little flesh... and if you perform well, there might be more deluxe jobs for you... perhaps..." He chuckles again... as if at a private joke... ushering you into a plush studio... the client already there... an aged CEO... devouring you with his eyes...

BlueBelle struts across the room... not seeing anything out of place... and at first glance thinking this aged man hardly looks dangerous... though something about Sheepshank sure makes her skin crawl... "Hello... I'm Bella... nice ta meet ya..."

The old man grins... something unpleasant flashing in his eyes... "Nice to meet you too, Bella... I've done this a few times in some Japanese places, but I never knew you could do it here... I'll enjoy this..." He raises his camera... looking confident... "Let's see you with the robe off..."

BlueBelle does find the eyes disquieting... shivering briefly as she removes the robe in the air-conditioned room... displaying her outrageous contours... putting a smile on her lips... wondering what she's gotten herself into... trying to remain alert as she poses...

The CEO's eyes glittering... far more confident than your earlier customer... clicking the shutter again and again... barking orders... Mr. Sheepshank's eyes on you constantly... and you can swear you hear something rustle somewhere in the room... even as your client orders you to lose the bra... and hold up your bodacious breasts for the lens...

BlueBelle does as told... finding herself obeying almost to easily... as if naturally accepting the commanding confidence of the man with the glittering eyes... the bra dropping away... holding her breasts in her hands... lifting them... nipples pointing at the lights above... shaking her head so that her flaming hair cascades down across them...

The old man grinning... taking more shots... barking more orders... "Lean back... good... form an 'O' with your mouth... perfect... now... peel off those panties and spread your legs..." The camera snapping... clicking... flashing... "We've got to find the perfect pose..."

BlueBelle feels a little overexposed as she slips the satin panties down her thighs and steps out of them... one heel at a time... exposing her cleanly shaven sex a moment later as she lays back on the silk sheets... and spreads her generous thighs...

The camera flashing... the old man barking orders... "Not quite... kneel on the bed... thighs wide... hold up your breasts... look at me through your hair... now pout... yes... perfect... the perfect pose..." He cackles, photographing it from all angles... "You'll be stuffed just like that..." Mr. Sheepshank smirking... and handing him a silver pearl-handled revolver...

BlueBelle poses obscenely... blinking at the man's words... seeing the revolver being handed over as if in slow motion... her own movements seemingly just as slow... as she tries to spring off the bed... caught completely flat-footed... the gun coming up as she lunges... seeing she isn't going to make it... seeing the muzzle flash...

The bullet moving right towards you... passing through waves of flame hair... as you feel its heat within an inch of your temple... your lunge to the left having saved your life... even as Sheepshank curses... and something rustles up from under the bed... a length of living rope... aiming to coil around you...

BlueBelle is ensnared... screaming out in rage as she struggles... drawn back by the tentacle-like ropes... coils tightening around her torso... wrists and ankles of flailing limbs... muscles straining... but unable to break the rope... slowly pulling her spread eagle... helpless before the man with the gun... her naked charms bouncing wildly about...

The old man recovering his composure... smirking as he cocks the hammer... aged hands groping and squeezing... the barrel of the gun stroking over firm flesh... the cool touch of the metal making your heart pound as you struggle... "A fighter... yes, she'll look excellent in my den... stuffed and mounted..." Sheepshank smiling... removing the false moustache... "Squire Knott always delivers..."

BlueBelle shakes her head... twisting and turning... trying to escape the stroking steel barrel of the gun... her breasts jumping sides to side... eyes widening as Squire Knott reveals himself... the Japanese CEO steps back and aims... and she kicks off one flashy high heel at each...

The twin missiles flying straight and true... one knocking the gun from the old man's hand... and to the floor... the other hitting Knott square between the eyes... not used to your accuracy... stumbling back and cracking his head on the door... the rope tightening for a moment... as if trying the squeeze the life out of you... before going limp... and easy to pull yourself free of...

BlueBelle slides off the bed... whipping the sheets off the bed as she attacks... wrapping the Japanese man in them... whipping them around and round... pinning his arms at his sides... then hanging him from a light fixture on the wall... stepping over the Squire to use the phone and call Detective Chan... "Charlie... Belle here... I think I got your model killers..."

(Nov 2009)