CHAPTER ONE

 

Peligrosa replaced the gag and blindfold on Aurora before he left the cavern with his slave, leaving Aurora to live in the darkness of her own tormented thoughts until he, or some other, returned.

Aurora's thoughts unwound through the scenes of the day, back to the scene of her abduction, beyond that time to earlier moments of her life, moments she had shared with Helen Corday.

Aurora remembered her first meeting with Helen. Aurora was modelling for a fashion spread in a major magazine; Helen was the photographer assigned by the magazine. Most of the photographers she had worked with before had been men. She needed time to adjust to the change, and many reels of film were wasted as she tried to adjust to Helen's peculiar requirements.

Helen was more demanding than the men Aurora knew. She made her pose over and over again for the same sequence of shots, made her change garments rapidly, giving her little time to rest and reorientate herself between her poses. She exhausted her, sought to squeeze all the life from her with her demanding lens.

There was a strange concern with jewellery. Helen required that she wear heavy bracelets and weighty lengths of metal about her slender neck. She would place her in awkward poses, goading her to hold them in spite of the oppressive bands of silver and gold, gloating when she would not take the strain and pleaded for a rest. Then Helen would lower the camera and glare at her, revelling in the weaknesses she had forced her to display.

Helen wore her down slowly, over many hours of shooting. Helen herself had shown up late, as if intending to intensify the pressure of the deadline they had to meet together. Aurora was forced to change and contort for her into the early hours of the morning. She was unbearably fatigued, yet still Helen demanded more.

As dawn was nearing, Helen subtly changed her tactics. She required sequences that called for scanty clothing. These had been planned before, but Helen kept them for the final hours of their session. She wished Aurora to be worn out for them. She wanted her resistance to be low. The last set of shots were of Aurora in lingerie. Aurora would change in and out of many sets of panties and sheer hose. There was little time left in which to complete the assignment and, Aurora was compelled to make the rapid changes now required without the convenience of a screen. Her breasts were bare for the last series; she was instructed to cover them with her hands and stretch her legs to display the transparent body stockings that were the focus of the pose. When she changed from stocking to stocking, she would have to stand naked for a minute or so, waiting for Helen to decide upon the skimpy garment that would serve as the centre-piece of the next photograph.

Aurora felt uneasy at this, but was unable to articulate a complaint. She was too tired. Helen began to torment her with further demands. She did not like the hand of the thin gauze on her thighs. She wanted to adjust it herself until it suited her own austere designs.

Helen came to her haughtily, laden with jewels. She commanded Aurora to stand immobile in her nakedness while she draped the heavy baubles about her neck and limbs. She moved her arms and legs as she pleased, forcing the small of her back to push in and out to satisfy her image of the pose. She slid the hose up along her legs with tense, cloying fingers, rolling the thin mesh with meticulous, probing concern. When the stocking had been peeled to the joints of her thighs, Helen brushed her finger-tips lightly across the tufts and mounds of Aurora's sumptuous crotch, rubbing the crease there so deftly as to arouse her, in an apparently accidental manner.

Helen made her sigh against her will. She felt a thin ooze of fluid leave the lips of her tender mounds and laughed at her. She stared at her then with cold, motionless eyes. Aurora was so tired. She wished to swoon, but Helen demanded her to keep her pose.

When the stocking had been rolled to her waist, Helen began to place the jewellery. An ungainly rock-laden necklace was placed about her throat. Large leaden bracelets, from which spars of emerald dangled, were hasped to her wrists. Then came the golden chains. These were hooked atop Aurora's ankles. Many strands of the thick gold links were wound about the upper reaches of her feet. Aurora was so tired. She could not move beneath the burdens now overlaying her complete fatigue. She was not allowed to move. Her limbs and the arch of her back, were set by her photographer at angles that Aurora thought impossible to maintain. Yet she was commanded to maintain them. She felt faint, but was given no respite.

Helen clicked the shutters of her camera with ferocious speed. She circled her frozen prey on her toes, capturing her motionless torture from many heights and angles, barking reprimands when Aurora shivered as her limbs threatened to buckle from the ceaseless, mounting strain.

Helen wished all of her muscles to bear the pain. When Aurora reached the limits of her endurance in a particular pose, Helen would swoop down on her and wrench her limbs into a new configuration. Then she would begin her dance again around the glistening white statue in the centre of her sinuous path.

When all of Aurora's frame was screaming for release, Helen demanded of her the most impossible pose. She must stand on one leg, her back twisted to the right, her neck bent backwards towards the floor, her left hand covering her perfect breasts while the right made a fist and rested in the hollow of her hip. Helen kept her in that pose for twenty minutes, snapping the shutters at ever closer distances, till Aurora could feel her breath steaming on her raw, stretched neck.

Suddenly she fell. Helen glowered down at her with the cold fire of a vulture in her eyes. There was one more change of lingerie to be made for the final shooting. Aurora was moaning, and could not move.

She could see Helen stooping over her. Her hands had fallen from her breasts to the floor and Helen's heavy hot breathing washed over her nipples until they tingled and rose. Helen stroked them with the edges of her nails as her hands prepared to move below to the elastic upper ridge of the stocking.

Aurora twitched and shivered as she felt her nipples swell and stiffen. Next came sharper, more overwhelming sensations. Helen had pried the nylon loose from her hips. Her hands were rolling over her soft, blonde pubic curls. Her hands did their work slowly, torturing Aurora with swift, darting stabs at her slit and clitoris.

Aurora's hips began a jerky motion that she could not control. Awareness was passing out of her, and she felt unable to resist the probings of the lenswoman's fingers. She was drenching in her own sweat, and could feel hot froth spraying from the tender hole that Helen was manipulating now, and attempting to fill. Spasms of unwanted pleasure twittered through her overloaded nerves. Her muscles contracted against her bones, shaking her frail skeleton and making her teeth chatter.

Helen licked at her opening and tickled her tender nub with the sharp caps of her teeth. Aurora was shooting come into the stocking, and felt herself slip helplessly into orgasms while Helen sat on her haunches and froze the moment of her frenzy with the cold metal clicking of the camera.

Helen shamelessly witnessed her victim's deepest privacy through her lens, continuing to do violence to Aurora's modesty with the fingers of her free hand. She forced her helpless prey to further, deeper spasms and, brought her to the edge of total release.