Mrs. Davis’s struggle

For the next shoot Gerald had made her sit on the office chair, with its back turned to the desk. Gingerly, she had moved herself to the edge of the seat. Between her thighs, there was a large vibrator anchored to her loins. He hadn't turned it on, of course, because actual sexual activities were prohibited: this they had agreed upon. But even as a dead piece of plastic it had sent a tingle up her spine as she first sat down. The seat had forced it into a slight downward angle, causing it to press firmly onto her sensitive spot. In search of relief, she had shoved herself forward as much as possible. As it toppled over, that made the vibrator hang down in the crotch harness, reducing the pressure on her vagina somewhat. All the small movements she had had to make in the progress however had triggered their own effects.

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As the bus slowly found its way through the busy city trafic, Mrs. Davis glanced at her fellow travelers and smiled inwardly. Sitting there in her grey raincoat, with her handbag in her lap and her brown hat on her grey coiffure she mused how none of them could have the slightest idea of what she would be looking like one hour from now.

Come to think of it, she didn't either, frankly. She never knew exactly what Gerald had in store for her. And on top of that things were going to be different: she would be working with another model. For the first time! She felt a little anxious.

But she needn't have to. Her co-star, who introduced herself as Esmee Gonzales, turned out to be friendly and cheerful, and Mrs. Davis liked her instantly. Mrs. Gonzales was in her early sixties, like herself and within five minutes they were exchanging stories about their children and grandchildren.

After having served tea, Gerald joined them. He told them how hard it had been to find a second model. He had been looking for someone of the same height as Mrs. Davis, and the exact same weight. And the same age even. It all played into the shoot, he explained, assuring them they would understand it when they would start. He stood up and cleaned the table, as the women started to undress.

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A woman scorned

At 10.30 PM her phone rang. It was Abbey.

"Hi, you need to get over here right away! I've created something great for our shoots. Our subscribers are going to love it! Oh, and wear something you can easily slip out of. See you!"

Fourty minutes later Sabrina arrived at the old decaid mansion they used as their studio. She knocked on the door using their signal: one knock-three fast knocks and another one. Immediately, Abbey opened the door. She was holding a flash light, and she was already naked. She seemed excited as she gestured for friend to quickly enter the dimlit hall.

"It's in the basement! Come and have look. You know that empty old closet down there? I have turned it into a mini stage!"

Sabrina followed Abbey down the broad stairs down to the cellars, with her eyes focused on the swaying shinings of the flash light. After reaching the bottom of the stairs, they entered the maze of cellars that formed the enormous basement underneath the ruined house.

"I have removed the door, painted the walls and put in a new cemented floor. Come on, you'll love it!"

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The presentation

As Susan had finished the silence in the teacher's room made her feel vulnerable, as if she had touched upon something inappropriate.

"Frankly, I don't see how we could deny him the right to express his identity in this way:
we are talking twelfth grade here, after all..."

Ewan, from geography.

"No, of course not. It's just the way he has asked me to part take in his presentation... You can't blame me for having some reservations, can you?"

"Yes, in fact we can!"

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