The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“We’ll need another ten minutes, Cara,” Antonio tells me with a cheap smile. “Just hang out, okay?”

“Okay…” I shrug.

The photographer bobs his head, then retreats from my dressing room, taking care to shut the door. I’m left alone.

Sí, I’m back for the second shoot with Antonio, the semi-nudie shoot for the marijuana dispensary company. I’m already naked, but wearing my dressing-robe. The marijuana pasties are glued over my nipples, and my body makeup is already applied. I’ve nothing to do but wait.

I sigh. On-set boredom is the one part of modeling industry that they don’t tell you about when you sign with your first agency.

A little depressed, I pick up my phone. I feel restless. Where should I websurf?

Without really paying attention, I rummage about online, flicking through the Insta feeds of several of my girlfriends. Sabine has up some sexy picts from her bikini shoot in Aspen, good for her. And Dar? Dar has some new content up, too. Bonita.

My fingers wander on. Suddenly, I find myself at liveamateurgirls.com.

Huh? Why did I go here? It’s a sleazy porn site. I think I heard that its based out of Miami, though. Maybe I know some of the girls in these sex photos?

I don’t know what possesses me, but I find myself tapping C-A-R-A into the search bar.

Instantly, a XXX video pops up in the Search Results and begins playing. I see a room painted in horrid pink, with a rumbled red bed, and black-and-white picts of naked women hanging on the walls. Do I know this room? No, no me parece. I’m certain I’ve never seen it before-

As I watch, a man and a beautiful young woman, both completely nude, are kissing madly. The man’s back is to the camera, but you can see most of the woman’s body. She has really nice boobs, she should think about modeling. As the couple kiss, the woman arches her back, so the man can slurp on her chest.

Why am I watching this? The lighting and the camerawork here are horrible. Tan barata.

In the throughs of (obviously fake) passion, the woman suddenly cries out, “¡Sube a la cama! ¡Súbete a la cama, perra!” She grabs the man, throws him onto the bed, then straddles him. (Jesus, this porn dude has a huge chorizo.) A quick insertion later, and the woman is bouncing up and down on the man, groaning and gasping as her thick hair thrashes about.

This chick… I pause, narrowing my eyes. Why does this porn chick seem so familiar? No lo entiendo. She has legs like mine, a tight little butt like mine, abs and an thin waist like mine… and as her breasts bounce like loco, I have to admit that she has a really nice set of tits, too. If I didn’t know any better…

Esperar.

Oh my God, there’s a big ugly mole on this girl’s breasts. ¡Tan asquerosa! Now that I look, there’s a second blemish on her butt, too. Seriously, how can this chica perform naked with such revolting spots on her body?

Feeling silly, I watch the video for a few more seconds. For a second there, I was half-convinced that this moley chica was me.

Wait, did I just text a link to this video to someone? No… I must have imagined it.

Pushing the stupid porno from my mind, I click off my phone.

“Miss Marina?”

I look up. Fattie Katie, Antonio’s assistant is fearfully poking her chubby face through the doorframe. “We’re ready for you now.”

Now I’m back in Antonio’s photography studio, on the set, posed and in position. This time, I’m kneeling, shot in profile, so you can see that I’m clearly nude, all the way down. My coño is hidden behind my folded legs, and Fattie Katie’s pasties are slathered over my nipples. I’m surrounded by plastic marijuana plants, and the air is once again smokey and hazy. I adopt my dreamy/sexy look.

“Wonderful, wonderful…” Antonio mumbles, clicking away on his camera. “So sexy, Cara, you look so beautiful… Now, give me more, like you’re enjoying the refer smoke?”

I have to look like I’m enjoying the refer smoke? ¿Qué diablos? How do I do that?

I open my mouth a little and lower my eyelids.

“Perfect, so hot!” Antonio cries out, snapping away.

As I pose, I ignore the cramping in my legs. My eye wanders, rolling over the little studio. For some reason, I find myself looking at Fattie Katie, who is watching silently. She’s hugging her arms to her sides, as if bracing for disaster.

The photographer’s assistant and I match gazes. What’s she thinking? What does she think I’m thinking? She smells of fear.

You know… I shouldn’t call her “Fattie Katie.” That’s just mean.

“So gorgeous, Cara,” preens Antonio. “Just another few… What the shit?”

He straightens, glaring at his camera. “Katie, this is the 88 mm!”

Katie blinks, going pale. “Yes, Antonio, you asked for the—“

“Stupid bitch, I asked for the 135, not the 88! These shots are fucking worthless!”

“I…” Katie’s voice dries up.

“We only have Cara for another forty-three minutes! Move your fat ass and get me the 135!”

Katie scurries away as Antonio curses under his breath. I drop my pose, and shakily stand, if only to get the feeling back into my legs.

You know… I was paying attention earlier. Antonio did ask for the 88 mm.

Its an hour later. The shoot is over, I’m back into my street clothes, and I’m exiting Antonio’s building. Its about three in the afternoon, with a bright sun overhead.

In a disgruntled mood, I tap on my phone. ¿Dónde está mi Uber? The driver was supposed to be here five minutes ago…

As I stand on the sidewalk, my ears detect a forlorn sound. A woman crying! Where is…?

Concerned, I walk to the corner and look about. Fattie Katie is hunched against the building, her head in her arms, her shoulders shaking. She’s attracting strange stares from the handful of people strolling down the sidewalk.

For a moment, I gape at the photography assistant, clueless. What the fuck? Why would…?

I hesitate.

Maybe I could help?

The thought is a little strange, I know. Like… I’m not sure where this idea came from. But I suddenly feel like… I dunno, like I have this new superpower of compassion. I want to do the right thing here.

But how?

Uncertain of myself, I walk up to Katie.

“Hola,” I offer.

Katie jumps, clearly not expecting to see me standing before her. She sniffles, angrily wiping away her tears.

“You come back to get me fired?” she accuses me.

I’m offended. “Get you fired?” I parrot. “Why would…?”

“Never mind,” glowers Katie. “I’m so totally screwed as it is.”

Feeling awkward, I shift on my feet. “Things can’t be that bad,” I offer lamely.

“Yeah, sure,” Katie says darkly.

There’s an uncomfortable silence.

Not knowing why I’m doing this, I crotch down and squat shoulder-to-shoulder beside the photography assistant. I give her what I hope is a game smile.

“You know… uh…” I say, struggling with English, “last time we shot… Well, I was kind of a major bitch to you.”

“Yeah,” Katie agrees.

“And I just… I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” harrumphs Katie. “I’ve seen your modeldata.biz profile. I know how much Antonio pays you. You’re on the fast track to modeling stardom. You look down on people like me.”

I’m stung. Verdad duele.

“I…” I attempt, then have nothing. “Fuck.”

Katie scowls. “You know, I went to fucking college to be a pro photographer. I interned at Vogue. I went to Paris and Milan on my own dime to volunteer to cover the shows. I even did paparazzi work for a little. I did it all, trying to break into the biz.”

She starts to cry again. “Now I’m twenty-seven, a total loser, with more than thirty thousand dollars in college loan debt. And no matter what the hell I do, I can’t get a leg up in this fucking business. I can’t get ahead! I can’t fucking get ahead!”

My mouth drops open.

Trembling slightly, Katie angrily turns away from me. “Go away.”

To my surprise, I’m moved. The photography biz is rough, but… No tenía ni idea. This sucks.

Not knowing what to say, I ask, “Don’t you have a professional portfolio?”

“Of course I have a fucking portfolio,” Katie snarls. “Its of old chairs and bowls of fruit and this really interesting statue I found in Italy. Its gorgeous work. But no-one in our industry gives a crap, so what the fuck does it matter?”

“I could pose for you,” I find myself offering.

Whoa. Where did that come from?

But the moment the words leave my lips, I know… it was the right thing to say. I feel good.

“Get out,” mumbles Katie. “You’re jerking me around.”

“No, I mean it,” I insist.

“I can’t afford you.”

“No, you can’t,” I agree. “But… I was a bitch to you, and I wanna make it up. You know: Karma, and all.”

Suspicious, Katie studies me through her red, swollen eyes. “You? Believe in karma?”

Verdadero, I don’t believe in karma, but now is not the time to quibble. Quiero ser una mejor persona. I want to be a better person.

“I have tomorrow afternoon free,” I say breezily. “You meet me at La Gorce Park, by the south entrance. I’ve done some shoots there before; if you photograph me before the pond, it will look good. As long as we get there no later than two o’clock.”

“You… you mean it?” Katie asks apprehensively.

“You do have your own camera, bien? We won’t have electric lighting, but, eh, the sun should be bright enough. Oh, and I’m not posing in anything really sexy; no bikinis or anything like that. I’ll wear a sundress that goes well with the water. And you may have to do my makeup.”

Her eyes wide, Katie stares at me. “Why… why would you do this?”

I don’t know why, but now a golden feeling fills my heart. “I’d be pleased to see you make it in this biz, novia. We could use more photographers like you.”

Katie is lost for words.

“So, do we have a deal?” I ask, becoming a little snippy once more. But there’s a smile on my lips.

With gratitude, Katie bursts into tears once more. Tears of joy.

“Yes!” she squeaks. “Thank you! Oh God, thank you!”

I laugh. It feels good.