Loading...Most people have some talent at which they excel. Me, I’m a maestro of the movie camera. I’ve been doing media studies and I found that I had an amazing knack for getting the best out of a camera. This led to me getting an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Not from The Godfather, happily, but from a wannabe rock band at our school.
They weren’t too bad, actually, but I sort of doubted that they’d ever make the big time. The talent was there, but it was more of a talent to copy other artists, lacking that flare of originality that is so necessary for success.
The band had decided that they wanted to make a video that they could hawk to the video companies, hoping that a promoter would see it and fall all over himself in his endeavours to shovel the shekels in their direction.
I gently suggested that maybe a few gigs at local hotels and night clubs wouldn’t hurt but they were mad keen for a video. Apparently in the music industry, if you didn’t have a video you had nothing.
I would script the video.
I would have artistic rights.
I would direct and produce it.
My name would be on it.
It would be a smash hit and I would be famous.
In sheer self-defence and to shut them up I agreed to do a video for them. I knew damn well why they were agreeable to letting me script, direct and produce the thing. They didn’t have the foggiest idea of how to do it or what they wanted. I also knew that their artistic temperaments meant that they’d try to take control but I thought I could handle that. It would be good practice.
I came up with a reasonable script and the boys were happy with it. They got to do what they did best, play and sing, and I got to do all the hard work. What could be fairer than that?
I arranged to borrow one of the schools recording studios for one Saturday. The professor was agreeable, saying the finished video would be considered one of my work assignments, so I was killing two birds with one shot.
It quickly became apparent that we were going to have a problem with the filming. Not from the band or their fans but from the parasites. There is a distinct difference between the fans and the parasites. The fans are there to cheer their boys on. The parasites are there to suck away the glory and the kudos, as well as any blood they can sink their teeth into.
The fans tended to do as they were told and kept out of the way. The parasites would tend to find ways to get into the video. That was OK. I’d expected that and had built in a few parts for some of the young ladies, subordinate to, but complementary to, the band.
Despite my precautions a small problem arose. She was only about five foot six but she had a sparking personality, looked really vibrant with her mass of red hair, and could project a sexual charisma just by smiling. She was also a cheerleader, and quite a good one, I believe.
Her name was Cherri, spelt with an I, and she had a narcissistic personality. She wasn’t happy with the bit parts that the other girls were willing to do. She wanted to be a star. Seeing that she couldn’t play and couldn’t sing it was going to be hard to fit her into the band. I needed a place where she could be seen and not heard.
Have you ever watched the ‘Married – with children’ TV series? I quite enjoy that show. In one episode Kelly was included in a rock video. Her role was to be chained to a fence while the video was shot around her. Why they needed to chain her to a fence, I don’t know. But the idea did stick in my head. So what the hell? I figured what’s good for Kelly would also be good for Cherri.
I called Dan, the band leader, over and told him I had a little problem. I wanted, I said, one of the girls to be fastened to the rails, indicating some rails that ran along one wall of the studio.
“I want her to act as a focus as the virgin sacrifice for the heathen gods,” I said. “I figured one of the girls in tattered clothes or possibly some sort of brief costume. Any suggestions as to who might be interested?”
As expected, Cherri had drifted over and was in earshot. Also, as expected, she didn’t look too enthused at the idea of being chained to the side of the stage rather than central. Dave was looking around and naturally Cherri was the first person his eyes fell on.
“Ah, perhaps,” he started, but I interrupted him.
“No, not Cherri,” I said quickly. “Try someone else.”
Cherri had already been opening her mouth to refuse the offer and now she snapped it closed, looking indignant. It was fine for her to refuse the offer. Not so fine to be rejected out of hand.
“Ah, why not Cherri?” asked Dan. “She probably has her cheerleader costume here and would seem to fit the requirements.
“Yes, why not Cherri?” I heard Cherri mutter.
“Too flamboyant,” I said easily. “She’d probably draw attention away from the band. I was really thinking someone who’d be more of a background figure.”
I could practically see Cherri’s antenna twitching as she picked up the signal. She’d be apart from the others and more noticeable. All she had to do was agree to play it down. That didn’t mean she couldn’t milk it for all she was worth.
“Actually, Dan has a point,” she said, sounding rather diffident. “I do have my cheerleader outfit in my bag. I’d probably do a good job. Why not try me out?”
“Mainly because I’ve seen you in that uniform,” I told her. “I know how good you look in it. Let’s just say you fill out the top a little abundantly.”
I looked at her, considering.
“I think it might work with a little change,” I said, stroking my chin and trying to look thoughtful. If you work the cheerleader skirt with your current blouse, that should do the trick. You’ll be showing a bit of cleavage but you wouldn’t be as distracting as in the full uniform.”
I was still shaking my head with a dubious expression on my face. Cherri hopped in before I could turn her down again.
“OK,” she said quickly, “that’s settled. I’ll just go and get changed.”
“Ah, Cherri,” I said hastily, “where the blouse is concerned only two buttons.”
I tapped the top of my chest to indicate which buttons I meant, trying to give the impression I wanted cleavage, but not too much cleavage. Cherri gave me a cat with the cream smile and flitted away.
I dug out a couple of pairs of handcuffs and gave them to Dan. (It’s amazing the things you can find in the prop box. Especially when you make sure in advance that the things you want are there.)
“OK, Dan. When I give you the nod I want you and one of the others to drag Cherri over and fasten her to the rail. Please remember to fasten her with her arms wide and facing the band.”
I’d already found that I needed to be pretty explicit when explaining what I wanted. Dan was quite capable of just handcuffing her ankles to the bars and leave her facing away. After all, as far as he was concerned, Cherri was incidental to his music.
The next session went quite well and I signalled Dan to bring on the virgin sacrifice. He and the drummer stepped out and came back with a genteelly struggling Sherri, who they proceeded to fasten to the wall.
Little bitch, I thought admiringly. She had followed instructions but permitted herself the leisure of getting them wrong. Two buttons, I’d said, tapping the top of my chest and two buttons it was. Fastened. She’d done up the button at her throat and the one immediately below it with the rest unfastened. With her attributes this provided some quite amazing cleavage while still leaving her covered. Which was fortunate, as she seemed to have dispensed with her bra.
Also, I was quite sure that the cheerleaders skirt wasn’t normally that short. I’d seen my sisters pull that stunt. They’d leave the house looking sweet and demure. Once out of sight they’d roll the waist band over a couple of times, knocking a couple of inches off their hem line. Cherri had done the same on an already short skirt. She looked great and she probably knew it.
At least, she was out of the way where she was and a few shots of her weren’t going to hurt the video. She was continuing her mild struggling and wriggling, but I’ll admit that she was at least doing it in time to the music. Several times I caught myself looking to see if that blouse was going to slip too far to one side and display the forbidden fruit. I wasn’t the only one doing that.
Anyway, I wrapped things up and told Dan that he and his boys needed to pack and depart as there were other people needing the studio. It wasn’t long before he and his entourage were packed and heading out the door. The only hiccup in the procedure had been Cherri.
As soon as we had finished the video she had wanted to be let loose again. A reasonable request I suppose. I told one of the hangers-on to get the keys from the prop box and let her loose then turned my attention to chivvying Dan along.
I was quite annoyed when my volunteer came back with the news.
“No keys? What do you mean no keys?” I asked.
“I checked carefully,” she protested. “I found another pair of cuffs but there aren’t any keys.”
As you can well imagine this went down real well with Cherri. Not that she could do much about it, fastened to the wall that way. Still, she did get her message across.
“Calm down, Cherri,” I said soothingly. “It’s not the end of the world. There’ll be someone in the maintenance department. I’ll give them a call and have them bring over some bolt cutters. A couple of snips and you’ll be free.”
She calmed down a little but it was plain that she was unhappy. I guess she shouldn’t have volunteered. I made my phone call, told Cherri they’d be there in ten minutes, and turned to chasing away Dan and company.
“Don’t worry about Cherri,” I reassured everyone. “I’ll wait right here until the guy from maintenance gets here.”
With everyone gone I strolled back to Cherri.
“Well here’s a fine to do,” I murmured, putting my hands in my pockets. “Comfortable?”
She just glared at me, while I jingled my pockets. Then I looked a little startled.
“Hey, what’s this?” I said, taking a set of keys out of my pocket.
“Well, how about that,” I laughed. “I must have put these in my pocket instead of back in the prop box. I guess I won’t need to ring the maintenance guy now.”
“Undo me. And what do you mean you don’t need to ring him? I thought you already had.”
“I did but the line was busy. I just told the others that he was on the way so they wouldn’t worry. I was going to call again.”
Strolling closer I lifted the side of her blouse slightly.
“What’s with only the top two buttons fastened instead of unfastened?” I asked. “I’d already said I didn’t want too much cleavage.”
“Oh, did you mean you only wanted those two unfastened. I’m sorry. I guess I got it the wrong way round. The keys? I’m still fastened.”
“And you want to be unfastened,” I said. “Easy done.”
I reached up and unfastened those two buttons. The blouse obliging fell away to either side, with just a modicum of assistance, revealing a pair of quite stunning breasts. I considered them a wonder of nature. Here she was, eighteen, having had those lovely globes for the past couple of years, and they could still pass the pencil test.
“These,” I said, running my hands over them while she looked at me in disbelieving outrage, “are really lovely, but why aren’t they in a bra? I know you were wearing one earlier.”
“Take your hands off me,” came the reply through gritted teeth. “I took off the bra because I thought it wouldn’t look right in the video. Now undo the fucking ‘cuffs.”
I reluctantly removed my hands.
“They look sensational,” I assured her. “Two shapely mounds of ice-cream topped by nice pink strawberries.”
I leaned forward and captured one strawberry with my mouth, sucking lightly. Ignoring whatever Cherri was saying, and she seemed to be saying it very loudly, I let my mouth drift across to suck on her other strawberry, my tongue lightly brushing her skin as I went.
“Tasty,” I said. “If you can lower your voice to a more normal range I might be able to understand what you’re saying and I am genuinely interested in what you have to say. I’m sure I’ll be fascinated by your reasoning in shortening your already short skirt.”
While I was talking I was also unrolling the waistband, returning the skirt to its normal length. As soon as it was at its normal length I was able to flick open the button at the side and slip down the zip. Cherri was so busy explaining that I hadn’t said anything about her skirt, and she had just thought it would look better shortened, and would I please get her loose, that she didn’t even notice I’d undone the skirt.
She noticed when I stepped back and gravity started working its will, but by then it was too late. The skirt hit the deck and Cherri was standing there in a miniscule pair of pink panties her only covering.
“Ah, Cherri, I thought the rules were that you had to wear modesty panties when in your cheer-leaders uniform?”
“I wasn’t in full uniform so it doesn’t count,” Cherri protested. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing? Why haven’t you undone me yet?”
“Patience, my pet,” I cooed gently. Just as gently I took hold of her panties and slid them down.
“I think you can say you’re just about undone,” I murmured.
“It’s a pity,” I added, rubbing her mons.
“What’s a pity? Just what the fuck do you think you’re playing at? Let me loose so I can get dressed.”
“It’s a pity that you shave,” I said. “I was hoping to see if your hair is really that colour or if you dyed it.”
Cherri said a few words that I won’t repeat. I also ignored them as I don’t think her suggestions were physically possible. Instead I let my hand follow her curves, and started gently massaging her mound. Well, to be truthful, I wasn’t that gentle. I was rubbing her mound quite forcefully, feeling an involuntary response as she pressed against me.
“Tell me,” I quizzed her. “How does it feel to be naked and helpless, chained to the wall and knowing that you’re going to be ravished in a few moments?”
From the look on her face I don’t think it had actually occurred to her that I was going to have sex with her. She just stared at me in shock for a moment.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she snapped.
In reply I unzipped my trousers and released my erection, which had been straining in what it considered to be too tight quarters. I stepped back a little so she could see and admire. Or not admire, if that was her wish. From the language I’d have to say she went with the not admire option.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she demanded.
“Are you a member of the band?” I asked her, knowing she wasn’t.
“No,” she admitted.
“Are you doing Media Studies?”
If she was, I’d never seen her at a lecture or in a tutorial.
“No,” she admitted again.
“Then what the hell were you doing in the studio, getting in the way and being a general nuisance. Geez, girl, if you hadn’t volunteered to be chained up I’d have had the boys do it anyway, just to get you out of the way. You were being a total pest and hindering the filming of the video. You can consider being chained up a little lesson in minding your own business.”
Even while lecturing her I hadn’t let up on touching and teasing. She was coming along nicely, even if she didn’t know it.
“All right. But what’s that got to do with threatening to have sex with me?”
“Nothing. If you’ve ever looked in a mirror you’ll know exactly why I want to have sex with you. It’s what you were made for. You’re a walking man-trap. Don’t blame me if I get caught. Lift your leg.”
She looked blankly back at me, trying to take it in.
“You’re going to have sex with me just because you want to?”
“Can you think of a better reason? Your leg. Lift it.”
“Wh-why do you want me to lift my leg?”
“I’ll show you,” I said, reaching down and putting a hand behind her knee. I tugged gently and she lifted her leg.
I kept on lifting her leg, nice and high until she was almost doing the vertical splits.
With her like that it was easy to start brushing my erection back and forth against her slit, rubbing firmly against her lips. Lips, I might add, that were protruding and glistening with moisture.
“See,” I murmured. “With you standing like this it will be a lot easier for me to take you.”
Cherri didn’t say anything. She was too busy staring at where my erection was lightly brushing against her.
“Oh my god,” she started muttering as I pressed slowly forward. “You’re really doing this. Oh my god.”
There were quite a few more squeaks and squeals and exclamations as I slowly drove into her, finished up with a loudly exclaimed, “Oh, fuck!” as I finished driving home.
“Put your leg around my waist,” I advised, letting it drop.
I wasn’t really surprised when she did so, curling her leg firmly around me and trying to pull me even closer. I started the age old dance and my reluctant partner knew how to match my every move. I will admit to not much experience, although I was by no means virginal. Cherri, however, was most definitely non-virginal and apparently highly experienced. Either that or she had a fantastic native talent.
Standing on one foot and holding me against her with one leg she still put on an amazing performance. Her sense of timing was exquisite, pulling me deep at just the right moment to meet my eager thrusts. Mind you, she wasn’t above giving me an earful as we swayed together, and her abuse went rather oddly with the eager way she accepted me.
Her abuse gave way to encouragement as we progressed. She was a passionate thing and I was supplying a badly needed dose of passion. I was slapping home, hard and fast, and being urged to go harder and faster. At some stage she had lifted her other leg, both legs now curled around me, clinging to me, my hands cupping her bottom and holding her in position while I pressed her against the wall and took her and took her and took her.
How the hell I managed to outlast her is a mystery to me. I was so hot to take her that it wouldn’t have surprised me if I’d ejaculated with my initial thrust. As it was I was still going hot and strong when she climaxed. The first clue I had to the fact that she’d reached that point was when she buried her face against my neck/shoulder and sank her fangs into me. Then she was shaking against me and I could feel her internal muscles clamping down hard around me, demanding that I give. I was happy to. I couldn’t have lasted much longer anyway.
Afterwards I disengaged and left her leaning against the wall while I tidied myself and fished out the keys. I unlocked the ‘cuffs and then gently carried Cherri over to the studio’s blue corner. We have one section where the walls and floor are all a uniform bluey/green. We use this when we’re going to insert different backgrounds. I can put you anywhere in the world using that blue corner.
I settled Cherri down on the floor, thoughtfully removing her blouse after I’d done so. Then I took a few pictures from various angles, gently adjusting her position occasionally. After a minute or so she shook her head and sat up.
“No,” I snapped. “Lie back down. Relax and try to look abandoned, in the licentious meaning, not deserted.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking photos,” I pointed out, needlessly in my opinion. “Turn you head so you’re not looking directly at me and pout.”
She did while I kept busy shooting then she caught hold of herself.
“Hey, wait a minute. I haven’t got anything on. You’re taking nude photos of me.”
“Well, yes. I know you’re naked. That’s why I’m taking photos. You’re lovely that way. Lie back, lift one knee and arch your back slightly, looking straight up, not at me.”
“But I want to get dressed,” she protested. “I’ve things to do. You shouldn’t be taking photos of me like this.”
“I’m sure that there’s nothing you need to do that can’t wait,” I said reasonably. “I want to try a few action shots. Can you surf?”
She looked at me rather blankly.
“Surf. You know, sea, sand, and surf. Riding the waves on a board before crashing down and praying that you won’t get eaten by sharks.”
“I know what surfing is. What’s that got to do with things?”
“Just stand there as though you’re on a board,” I instructed. “Legs spread for balance, arms out to the sides. I’ll put in the board and the surf afterwards. Side on first and then facing me.”
She looked back at me rather blankly. I looked at her expectantly, trying to look as though I had no doubt that she was going to follow my instructions. She started looking a little confused and then she was standing, trying to look as though she was surfing.
After that she became quite interested in the shoot. Her ham actor instincts came to the fore and she put on quite an amazing performance. I got some terrific shots. It was a pity that I wouldn’t be able to use them for an assignment.
Eventually I called a halt.
“Ok, love,” I said. “I’ll call it a day for now. I’ll sort through these and let you have copies of the best shots. You’ll be surprised at the difference when I add a little scenery.”
“So it’s OK if I get dressed now?”
Did I detect a touch of sarcasm there?
“Ah, not right away,” I said, packing my camera away. “First I’d like you to take up a position on all fours, head down, bottom up, as though you were about to be ravished from behind.”
“What? You’re kidding?”
“Not really. It’s been at least an hour since I ravished you and I’m up for seconds. So let’s get with the action.”
Her face was a wonder of disbelief.
“You seriously expect me to let you have sex with me again?”
“Well, just look at yourself. You look as though you need to be cherished again. I’m just offering to cherish you. Quite energetically, too.”
I was astounded when she slowly sank to her knees and then leaned forward onto her hands, finishing up with her arms folded and her head resting on them, her bottom lifted as an offering to the gods. So I would try to be godlike.
“Well, this had better be worth it,” she grumbled.
“I can but do my humble best,” I said, undoing my trousers as I approached. “I think you’ll find it does the job.”