"You're late. Again."
Giselle smiled sheepishly. "I know," she said.
Byron frowned. "I thought you were going to leave early this time."
"I did," Giselle told him. "But, well, I guess I got a bit distracted on the way here."
"I can imagine. How many selfies did you take on the way here?"
"Only a couple."
Byron held out his hand. "Phone." Silently, Giselle handed her phone to him, watching as he checked her image gallery. 'Nineteen," he finally said, glancing up at her. "Giselle, it's a six block walk, and you took nineteen selfies?"
"Maybe," Giselle replied defensively. "I mean, I saw some great spots, so I had to let my friends and followers see. It is the thing now, you know. You really need to get into it."
Byron shook his head. "And two hundred years ago," he said, "burning people at the stake was the thing. Should I get into that, too?"
"That's so old school," Giselle told him. "Not to mention disgusting. Byron, you know I'm crazy about you, but you can be so out of touch sometimes. Worse, you want me to be, too, with all your old fashioned notions."
"You mean like being on time? Being dependable instead of stopping to indulge yourself whenever you feel the urge?"
"Please, can we just go in? I'm sorry I'm late, but I'm here now."
Byron shook his head. "Too late," he told her. "They decided if you can't be bothered to be on time for this, then you weren't the one they wanted. They've already hired another model. Your 'thing' just cost you a damn good paycheck."
"Please," Giselle said pleadingly, "not another lecture. You know I hate those."
Byron nodded. "Almost as much as I hate going out and finding work for you, only to have you blow it because you're too busy showing off online. If posing on the net is so important to you, get your own pay site." He shook his head. "I'm sorry babe," he said softly. "You know I love you, but I'm done wasting my time trying to help you. When you decide you're ready to put som serious effort into being a model, let me know."
"No, Byron," Giselle begged, "please don't. You know being a model is my dream. I'll do better, I promise."
"You've made that promise before," Byron pointed out. "And you always wind up breaking it."
"Not this time," Giselle replied. "I won't, I promise. Please don't give up on me. I'll do anything."
Giselle glared at Byron. She tried to say something, but the clear tape over her mouth sealed her lips closed, turning her words into soft hums. Hearing this, Byron smiled.
"Good," he said, "I'm glad to hear it."
Giselle shook her head. She stood in the center of a large, open room, leather cuffs encirling her ankles, chains leading to rings set in the floor to hold her feet slightly spread. More cuffs encircled her wrists, more chains leading to rings in the ceiling to hold her arms up and out. Dressed only in a skimpy string bikini, she tugged on her bonds.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Byron told her, mounting a thin pole onto a stand in front of her. Mounted atop the pole was a phone, which he carefully aimed toward her. Within moments, two more poles were set up, one to either side of her, each with its own phone aimed at her.
"You love taking selfies," he told her, moving toward a computer set up behind the first pole. "Hell, you're addicted to them. Sometimes, I don't think you can’t take more than ten steps without stopping to pose. There must be hundreds of shots of you out there by now, if not thousands. Well, now there's going to be a few more.
"You see," he went on, "woven into the chains holding you are pressure switches connected to this computer, which, in turn, is connected to these three phones. Once I start this program, any tug on any of the chains will trigger one of the phones to take a picture. It's completely random, so you never know which phone's going to go off. And of course, the pics will immediately be posted online."
Stunned, Giselle stared at the phone mounted in front of her. Just the thought of images of her bound being seen online was enough to hold her completely still.
"Oh," Byron added, "it gets even better. You can't see it, but there's another pole set up behind you. Every time one of the phones is triggered, a secondary program also triggers two small winches mounted to the pole. Every time they're activated, they turn just a little bit, pulling on cords attached to the strings on your bikini. Trigger enough shots, and those winches will pull open the bow knots holding your bikini in place, which means you'll be posing naked after that. And there's another surprise after that, which you may or may not experience."
Giselle stiffened even more, watching with wide eyes as Byron pressed a key on the computer's keyboard. "Ok," he told her, "it's up and running. Have fun with your newest selfie session." Turning, Byron left the room.
Alone, Giselle stood tensely, staring at the phone mounted in front of her. If he thinks I'm going to move around, she told herself, he's crazy. I'll just stand here, perfectly still, until he gives up on this stupid idea.
For long moments, she held herself perfectly still. Then, surprisingly, the phone to her right suddenly flashed. Stunned, Giselle flinched away from the sudden burst of light, her motions causing the several more flashes from all three phones before she could once more hold herself still.
What had happened? She hadn't moved, had she? Slowly, a dull ache in her arms told her that she had, indeed, moved, her arms sagging until they pulled at the chains, triggering the phones.
Great, she thought. Now there are several shots of me like this out there. Worse, she could feel her bikini being pulled back slightly from the tugging on the strings. How many more tugs, she wondered, before she found herself posing nude? And what was the other surprise Byron had mentioned?
For Giselle, time began to pass with agonizing slowness. In spite of herself, she couldn't keep her arms from sagging now and then, triggering one of the phones. At least, she told herself, she didn't flinch now when it happened, limiting her humiliation to a single shot. Still, with each flash, the tug on her bikini became just a tiny bit more pronounced. Finally, after she had no idea how many shots, the knots parted, her bikini slithering from her body and leaving her totally exposed to the cameras she was beginning to actively hate. Naked, she could only stand helplessly, wondering what was next. She didn't have to wait long to find out.
A soft hum reached her ears, the sound seeming to come from below her. Afraid to look, afraid to do anything that would trigger the phones again, Giselle was stunned to feel something softly touch the juncture of her thighs. In spite of herself, she flinched away from the touch, triggering another series of flashes before she could force herself to hold still once more. With each flash, the feel of being touched between her thighs grew just a bit stronger. By the time she managed to still her body, the thing had pressed itself between her nether lips, the tip just slightly inside her.
I can't believe this, she told herself. It wasn't bad enough to be bound, not bad enough to be bound and naked. Now I've got a something pushing into me. She stared at the phone in front of her. And everyone gets to see it. I've got to hold still.
Sadly, even this incentive couldn't help her flagging strength. Exhausted from what felt like hours standing with her hands held up, she couldn't help but let her arms sag again and again. Each time, her failure was rewarded with a flash as one of the phones was triggered. And each time, the thing between her thighs pushed just a tiny bit further inside her.
I hate him, Giselle told herself, seeing yet another flash, feeling the thing within her advance yet again. How could he do this to me?
Eventually, after more seeming hours, the thing within her had advanced until Giselle felt completely filled. In spite of herself, Giselle began to feel the first stirrings of arousal. How, she asked herself, could this get any worse?
With the next flash of a phone, her question was answered as the thing within her came to life, vibrating softly. It only lasted for a second, but it was enough to cause her whole body to jump, triggering yet another series of flashes. With each flash, she felt another pulse of soft vibration sweep through her.
Desperately, Giselle commanded her body to remain still, but she knew it was hopeless. It had been impossible to avoid triggering the phones before, but now, with those vibrations feeding a growing arousal, she knew she was doomed. Even now, she could feel her knees twitch, aching to bend, to lower her, push that thing even deeper within her. She felt her hips begin to rock slowly. At first, these motions were too slight to trigger the phones, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her growing arousal would make it impossible for her to remain still.
Slowly but inevitably, the flashes, the pulses, began to come more often, her increasing arousal making it ever more impossible to hold still. Her body, so stiff before from her attempts to remain motionless, now tensed for an entirely different reason. Slowly, the need to remain still faded from a mind now awash with need. Soft moans slipped from behind the tape sealing her lips as her body began to undulate slowly. Her eyes closed, the darkness broken by flashes of light that grew in frequency, along with the pulses sending increasing waves of pleasure through her helpless body. Slowly, the sensations filling her grew until, finally, it became too much, her mind and body shattered as a series of powerful orgasms blasted through her. Over and over, the waves rushed through her, only slowly fading until she dangled limp in her bonds.
"Wow!" With more effort than she'd ever thought possible, Giselle opened her eyes to see Byron standing in front of her. "That," he said, "was intense. And," he added, glancing toward the computer, "it looks like you overloaded the system. Guess it couldn't handle so many activation signals at once."
Giselle simply gazed at him, unable to move even as he carefully peeled the tape from her lips. For several seconds, her lips moved soundlessly. Finally, barely audible, her voice emerged.
"I hate you," she whispered. "How could you let everyone see me like this?"
"Oh," Byron said, "that. Actually, I lied about that part of it. The phones took a lot of great pics, but nobody saw them. And," he added, "nobody ever will. Well, nobody but us."
"And what," Giselle asked softly, "makes you think there will be an us after this?"
Slowly, Byron began removing the cuffs from Giselle's limbs. "Do you really hate me?"
Freed, Giselle sagged into Byron's arms. "No," she said slowly, "I don't." She straightened slightly, but made no move to pull away. "I should," she told him. "I really should. But I know you were only trying to do what you thought was best for me. And," she added, "I did say 'anything.' I am mad at you, and I might even slap you, if I had the strength. Now, could I please have my clothes? I really need to go home and rest."
Giselle walked briskly down the sidewalk. Byron had just called her about a possible modeling job, and she was on her way to meet him. It had been nearly a week since that fateful day, and she had very nearly recovered her strength. Of course, she thought wryly, she would be fully recovered if she hadn't spent every night since then experiencing helpless orgasms at his skilled hands. Strange, she thought, how an experience like that could teach her to love being helpless.
Giselle paused as something caught her eye. It was nothing special, just a small tree growing beside the walk, but the scene presented immediately grabbed her attention. This would be a perfect spot, she thought, stepping beneath the branches and pulling out her phone. Smiling, she pressed the button to activate the camera.
At the flash of the camera, Giselle felt a wave of remembered pleasure sweep through her. Oh hell, she thought, her body shivering. Thrusting her phone into her purse, she walked quickly away. That, she told herself, was exactly what I didn't need. If that happens every time... With another shiver, she vowed to never again take a selfie. Unless, of course, Byron were there to help with her body's response. As she walked, Giselle was unsurprised to find herself considering the possibility of bondage selfies. Maybe, she told herself with a smile, it would be the next thing. It would, she thought, most definitely be hers.
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