Authors: Jenna Ellis
Marshall chats quietly with Marnie, then walks over to Karen and gets her to bend over further towards the camera. Then Marnie is there, arranging Karen’s ample cleavage in the bra. I see her touch her breasts, the way she rearranged me in the corset in her room.
So it was normal then. She does that to everyone.
I’m just remembering the last time I dressed up in underwear when Marnie, who has been too busy even to speak to me all morning, catches my eye.
‘Oh God, that reminds me,’ she gasps, as if she’s just remembered something vital. ‘I’d like to do a close-up cleavage shot in black, for the inset, but I don’t want anyone to leave the set, now it’s nearly there. There’s so much to remember.’
‘Do you want me to help?’ I ask, although I have no idea how.
‘Would you? That’s a perfect idea. You are a doll. So just slip one on in black, OK?’
Shit! She means . . .
Me in a bra?
That’s not what I meant
at all
.
‘Keilan.’ She snaps her fingers and Keilan arrives. ‘Take Miss Henshaw and find her the rose collection in black. Tell Roberta I don’t need face, I’m just doing a pack shot. We’re seriously running out of time.’
Keilan takes the reflector from me and props it up, then takes me off the set to the wardrobe space squeezed in behind the fake brocade walls.
‘It’s hectic, right?’ he says, grinning at me.
‘I don’t know how this has happened. I’m hardly an underwear model,’ I tell him as he races through the boxes to find my size. ‘Does she really want me?’
‘Marnie gets what Marnie wants. I wouldn’t argue, if I were you. Today, it’s just about getting the job done. We can only have Marshall today for these shots.’
I guess he’s right. It would be churlish to make a fuss. Marnie has enough on her plate, and I did offer to help out.
After I’ve put on the bra, I feel self-conscious as I parade around to the make-up section in my jeans and bra and pink sneakers, but nobody in the studio bats an eyelid.
Roberta applies foundation to my chest and dusts me down with the most glorious-smelling, faintly sparkling powder. Keilan’s right. It’s just about getting the job done.
Claudia, the costume assistant, checks the bra on me, adjusting the straps and pulling at the front.
‘It’s just going to be here,’ she says, framing her hands around the very front of my peachy cleavage. ‘OK. Nothing else. So don’t worry.’
Back on set, Marnie pulls me into a lit area and fusses around me. She cups the bra and jiggles me around in it, until my breasts look perfect. Then Marshall’s assistant, Lee, sets up the camera on a tripod. He’s a tall black guy and he’s wearing a back-to-front baseball cap and waistcoat. He exudes a kind of serious cool vibe. He’s totally professional and into this. I try not to think of the nude portrait in the gallery back at Thousand Acres.
I can’t help giggling nervously as he comes in for a close-up. It doesn’t feel like I’m being photographed at all. It’s all about the details of the bra.
‘You’re a star,’ Marnie says, grinning at me. I smile back, glad that I didn’t back out. Glad that I’ve manned up for the task.
‘Keep still, keep still now,’ Lee drawls from behind the camera. I watch him bend over in his perfect designer jeans.
Marnie squints at the monitor. ‘That’s good with that lighting. We’ll use it for now, just in case,’ she says, and that’s that. It’s over. ‘Actually, can you just put the briefs on, hon?’ she calls over her shoulder to me. ‘Do you mind? I might need you at the back in the next shot.’
I want to protest, but I’ve already been coerced into being photographed. I guess being in the background won’t hurt. As I go back to find Claudia, I want to laugh.
Oh my God. I’m in a lingerie shoot in New York.
66
Mamie calls a break at seven and we all stand around and drink champagne. The caterers have been, and I watch Marnie scoffing down a burger, but Violet, one of the models, says it’s best just to drink – rather than eat – until the shoot is over. I try and get into the models’ mentality, but my tummy growls. I down a couple of glasses of champagne, which takes the edge off.
The music changes into something clubbier, and the lighting suddenly makes a more intimate mood in the studio. Props are brought on and off. Some of the models leave and others arrive.
‘So let’s do intimate shots next,’ Marnie says. ‘We just need the mood shot.’
Karen strides over towards us. She’s in high heels and smoking a cigarette. She’s changed and is wearing a see-through negligee, which strains against her curves. Her lids are heavily made-up and she has this air of a starlet about her. She loves the way she looks, she says, and we all admire how Marnie’s underwear has made her look so deliciously slutty.
‘Perfect,’ Marnie says, as Karen bends over the bed. The thin black gauze stretches across her naked buttocks, but she doesn’t seem self-conscious, as Marnie looks at her from behind. She looks very, very hot.
‘Keep the Dietrich-vibe going for the others, Roberta,’ Marnie calls out. ‘This section is going to be all black-and-white shots,’ she informs me.
I’m still reeling from how she casually mentioned ‘intimates’ in her last sentence.
‘So . . . do you mean . . . um – the vibrators and stuff?’ I ask, but it comes out as a squeak. I sound ridiculous.
Marnie laughs at me. ‘Yeah, stuff. The fun stuff.’
She suddenly turns on tiptoes and strides over to Marshall. She puts her head close to his, pointing at the bed. Above the bed I see a lighting grid move down closer. It has various cameras and lights attached.
‘I think Carmena on the bed, like this,’ Marnie says, jumping on the bed. She kneels up. ‘But over someone. Miss Henshaw, lie here a second.’
She pats the bed and I dutifully go over and lie back stiffly on the bed. Then she kneels on either side of my torso, facing away from me. I look down at the frayed strands on her shorts and the back of her toned thighs. I feel an unexpected sexual shiver rush through me.
‘Yeah, this will work. Stay there,’ she says and looks over her shoulder at me and winks.
67
Mamie is soon busy arranging everyone around me on the bed, and there are so many bodies and she’s so busy that every time I try and get her attention, even if I can move, I miss the opportunity.
Then Carmena arrives. She’s the model who will be straddling me in Marnie’s place. She’s wearing a riding hat with a veil over her face, with extraordinarily red lips. But that isn’t the shocking bit. She’s wearing crotchless fishnet tights and high stilettos, and a strapless bra that barely covers her nipples. I try not to look at her nudity through the slit in her tights as she hooks her leg over me. The spikes of her heels look terrifying as they face towards me.
I look at the back of her and her mass of swishy dark hair, cascading down from the hat. She’s from Brazil and she has the most incredible skin. Her thighs are solid and muscular. She looks like she runs a lot. Underneath her, I feel like a white, flabby whale. Where the hell is the model who is going to replace me?
‘So here’s the samples for everyone,’ Keilan says, arriving next to the bed with what looks like a very heavy cream box. The same kind of box my vibrator came in. ‘Let’s see what we have today in Mamie’s box of tricks, boys and girls.’
There’s laughter as he starts to hand out a whole array of sex toys, much to the glee of the models.
‘Oh yes, this is my favourite,’ one girl called Lexie squeals, picking up a double-ended dildo.
‘Give me that,’ Karen says, grabbing it. ‘Oh my God, it’s fantastic.’
‘And so versatile,’ Lexie jokes.
The models pass around the toys and bend the dildo in different directions. It’s kind of jokey and fun, but still pretty shocking, from where I’m lying down. They all look like they’re familiar with Marnie’s ‘intimates’ and aren’t at all embarrassed about them, but I feel like I’ve come out in a full-body blush. I try and hide it. I don’t want Marnie to call me Miss Prim-and-Proper in front of all these people.
Marshall fusses around, flashing lights in everyone’s faces. Soon he’s discussing the dildo with Karen and Sean, and they bend it and put their heads close together, taking an end each in their mouths. I feel a deep stab of something sexually exciting, even though they’re just mucking around.
Marnie comes over with a black silk eye-mask. I’m still waiting to be replaced in the shot by a model, but as Marshall poses everyone, it dawns on me that Marnie is going to make me stay in the shot.
‘Do you want me to stay like this?’ I ask.
‘Uh-huh, you’re fine as you are – just keep still is all,’ she says, but that wasn’t what I was asking. ‘Put this on, like this,’ Marnie adds. She demonstrates, putting the mask over her head and covering her eyes. Then she removes it and offers it to me, but I’m so flustered I drop it. I am close up against her. She smiles down at me gently as she takes the silk blindfold and puts it over my head herself. ‘Don’t look so scared,’ she says.
‘I can’t do this,’ I stutter. ‘I’m a not a model, I mean . . .’
‘You’re hardly going to be seen. Look, there are bodies everywhere. It’s all atmosphere and close-ups. The shots will be blurry. Don’t worry, little bird.’
I can’t back out now without looking ridiculous. And I don’t have the nerve to stand up to her.
I feel myself trembling, as the blindfold really does block everything out. I know I shouldn’t be nervous. I know there are other models around me, but now, as I can’t see what’s going on, all my other senses are on red alert.
Suddenly, I feel something soft shoot across my stomach and down to my thighs. It makes me jerk with shock.
‘You like that, huh?’ I hear Marnie’s voice. I feel the soft, ticklish sensation again and Marnie laughs. She’s got a feather. ‘Just . . . here,’ she says, trailing the feather along my thigh.
I jerk my leg away.
‘You only move when I tell you to move,’ Marnie tuts.
There’s a sound of rustling.
‘How do you feel about the handcuffs?’ she whispers, but she’s already got my wrist. It’s not a question. She’s going to handcuff me up, whether I like it or not.
‘Mrs Parker, please,’ I beg her. ‘I’m not . . . I mean . . .’
This has all got out of hand.
‘Hush, little bird,’ she laughs. I feel something soft gripping my wrist and a click as she tightens the handcuffs.
‘But this isn’t my kind of—’
‘How will you know how you feel, unless you’ve tried it? This is just a photoshoot. It’s not real. It’s just for fun. Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise,’ Marnie says in a soothing voice. I feel the handcuff clamping me to the bedstead. I feel panic rising, but then I feel someone pressing against me.
‘You know Edward loves all of this,’ Marnie whispers. ‘What would he say if he could see you now, huh?’
I feel a hot-and-cold chill rush through me. Is she telling me because she knows what happened with Edward and me yesterday? Is she telling me because she suspects, and she wants to show me that she’s still in charge? But she laughs and moves away.
There’s flesh on my flesh. Carmena is above me again, straddling me. Then I feel Marnie kiss me on the cheek.
‘Don’t be scared, darling. You look beautiful. Peachy.’ I feel her hand squeeze the flesh of my breast and plump it up in my bra. I gasp.
I try and think about Edward, but he’s slipped away. Being on the boat, so natural and free, feels just about the opposite of this, which feels claustrophobic and scary and new. But still, the overwhelming sensation of sex is all around me and, despite everything, I feel hot between my legs.
I lie trembling on the bed as I hear others getting on the bed next to me. There’s a jumble of voices in hushed whispers. I feel a bare leg press up against mine. My temperature rises.
I sense Marshall moving around, the camera click-clacking.
‘Hey, sweetie,’ I hear someone say. It’s a girl. I feel something sequin-like graze my shoulder and a hot body pressing up against my side. ‘I’m just going to squash in here.’
‘Oh God, you haven’t tried these, I bet,’ Marnie says. I hear a buzzing. ‘Nice, huh?’
She runs something buzzing over my collarbone.
There’s a laugh. ‘Yeah, try that. Karen and Joe. OK. You take it.’
The buzzing goes to the other side of the bed. I feel movement beside me on the bed.
‘OK, how about this?’
The buzzing comes back.
‘Stand above her,’ I hear Marshall say, across the bed. ‘Legs more open. That’s it. Maybe in the mouth . . .’
I hear one of the models giggling, ‘We’ll do it together . . . hmmm.’ I hear some wet kissing-type sounds. My breath is ragged.
My mind is going crazy. What is happening all around me? Is this a porn shoot? I feel Carmena move forward and laugh in a lusty way. I know that if I didn’t have a blindfold on, I would be getting a full view of the slit in her tights. The thought of it sends me into a state of unexpected horniness.
‘So, we’re going to try something here,’ Marnie says quietly next to me. ‘You’ll like it. Open. Lee, over here.’
I sense that Lee is close. Lee, Marshall’s assistant. The one I thought reminded me of the photo I saw in the gallery. I hear him laugh gently. There’s rustling. I feel fabric on my face as he leans over me. He’s taking a picture of my wrist against the bedstead. I smell his aftershave. It’s musky and manly, mixed with a kind of primeval male pheromone that I feel myself responding to, despite myself.
Then he moves away and something presses against my mouth and, instinctively, I open my lips. There’s something that is warm and soft, but hard, too. It must be some kind of phallic-shaped toy. It has a weird taste, but it feels like the real thing. Very, very much like the real thing. Except it’s huge.
‘Oh yeah, that’s good,’ I hear Lee whisper.
Oh my God. Is it Lee himself? Is he in my mouth? What’s happening? But as quickly as it happened, he moves away. It moves away. I feel blood pounding in my cheeks. What’s happening? Being blindfolded and tied up is so terrifying, but I can’t deny the deep, lusty thrill that courses through me.
‘Take it over here, to Karen,’ I hear Marnie say.