Another photographer

Postby lasse672000 » Mon Jan 24, 2011 11:19 am

When I read a story here called:”The photographer”: viewtopic.php?f=37&t=9285&p=50225&hilit=+The+photographer#p50121, I was reminded of a similar thing, happening to me.
I was approached by a man, in the mall in my hometown. I was just window-shopping (I had no money to buy anything, anyway), and had nothing else planned for the day. He said he was a photographer and showed me some photos. Come to think of it, it probably was the girl in the other story. He said he’d been looking for a girl with my kind of face, sweet and innocent, but with a hint of evil lurking beneath all that. He asked me how old I was, and when I told him my age, he said I was the perfect age for a series of pictures he had planned. Would I be willing to come to his studio that day, so he could take some pictures? Of course, he’d pay me. Not much, but still. I said I could come right away. We hopped in his car, and off we went.

As with the other girl, he first took me to his studio and we shot some pictures there. I wasn´t tied up as she was, though. Not at that point, at least. After having shot a roll of film with me in various poses, he said he wanted to take some pictures out in the open, it was such a nice day and the light was just right. He said he knew just the right place, if wouldn’t mind taking another trip in the car.
“No not at all.” I said.
“Good. Let’s go, then.” We went out to his car and got in.
After having driven for a few minutes, I asked him about the pictures of the other girl, and the fact she had been tied up in them. I also asked him if I was to be tied up like that, and if I were; I’d rather get it over with right away.
“No,” he replied, concentrating on the road ahead, “not exactly like that. I, or rather we, can probably think of some other poses. By the way; if you’re so eager to be tied up, you’ll find a pair of handcuffs in the glove compartment in front of you. I think there’s a pair of leg cuffs in there, too. I’m not sure, though.”

I opened the compartment, and sure enough, there were hand- and leg cuffs in there, together with the keys. I took the hand cuffs out and put them on, with the hands in front, making sure I tightened them enough, and I wouldn’t “accidentally” slip out of them, but not tight enough for them to be uncomfortable. Then I put the leg cuffs on. Thus equipped, I rummaged around in the compartment some more, finding a ball gag, and a chain with padlocks. Out of the corner of his eye, the photographer/driver saw what I was doing and said: “There is a sleeping-mask in there, too. You might as well take it out too! I’ll help you put the gag and mask on.” I did as he said, and he pulled off the road and put it on for me. First, he put the ball-gag in my mouth and buckled it behind my head. Then, he attached one end of the chain to my leg-cuffs and the other to my hand-cuffs. To finish it all off, he put the sleeping-mask over my eyes and tightened the strap. After that, I of course lost track of time, but I actually started to like the feeling of being chained the way I was and driven to a place, unknown to me.

Suddenly, the car stopped and he told me to wait there, while he went in to the house, and organized a few things. I heard him open and close the door and then I waited. Not knowing where I was, and in cuffs, I couldn’t very well run very far, anyway. Sometime later, he came back and opened the door. Then he helped me, still in cuffs, blindfolded and gagged out of the car. Then he told me to stand still while he took a couple of pictures. I heard a few “clicks” of the camera and then he escorted me in. He gently guided me to a chair and I sat down. Then he took the mask, but nothing else, off and sat down on the opposite side of the table in front of us. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen the rest of the day. I’ll keep you here over night, as there are a few pictures, I’d like to take of you at night. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a room to yourself and food and anything else you might need. Tomorrow, I’ll drive you back home, I promise.”

The rest of the day, I spent either cuffed or tied up in various positions, either out- or inside. He took photos of me hog-tied on the floor, attached by the cuffs to a chain in the ceiling, with my hands tied behind a wooden post on the patio or tied to a chair, to mention a few. That night, he had me looking out a window, with my hands tied behind my back or, again tied to a post on the patio. Luckily for me, it was a beautiful, starlit night and not too cold, as I was dressed in nothing more than a leotard and tights, which I had put on in the room where I was supposed to sleep. Adding to my predicament, I was gagged and/or blindfolded too, almost the entire time I was there, even when I, finally, was allowed to get some sleep, sometime after midnight.

Early the next morning, he woke me up, let me put my regular clothes on, chained my hands and feet and took me to have some breakfast in the kitchen. When we were done eating (him of course feeding me, as I couldn’t eat for myself), we went to the car and went home, just as he had promised. Just before we came to my house, he took all the restraints, along with the mask and gag, off. Outside my door, he kissed shyly me on the chin, we said “Good bye” and I went in.
I don’t know why, but I have a feeling we might be seing more of each other in the future. :quirk:
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Another photographer

Postby Plueschbabycd » Mon Jan 24, 2011 12:34 pm

Hallo, nice short story from you. We will see if thy meed again. :)
But I hop that you would finish your old stories. :)
"Don´t dream it, be it." Dr. Frank N. Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show