Reading Poses Novels & Stories

He doesn't flinch. A force presses against my knees, the warning rumble of something tectonic about to shift. I try to twist, to wrench away, see anything that's happening, but his grip on my throat keeps me locked in place, just enough pressure to own me without cutting off breath. His knee slides between mine with infuriating purpose, spreading my legs apart. The fabric of my joggers catches on his thigh as he shoves upward, forcing the solid heat of his muscles between my legs. One quick push upwards and my warm center sits on his thigh.

Suddenly he leans forward, his hand darts towards me and grips my nape, not with brutality, but with an absolute authority that freezes me on the spot. — First lesson: posture. With a firm pressure, he forces me to my knees on the bed, back straight, hands placed on my thighs, head slightly bowed. — This position is that of waiting and respect. You will assume it each time I leave a room and return to it. Each time you have a request to make. It signifies that your body and mind are awaiting my will. His hand releases my nape. I remain still, every muscle tense, aware of the silk sheet barely covering me, of the extreme vulnerability of this pose.

“Alright, look at the camera, girl! One, two, three, okay, keep posing.” I followed all her instructions. Next, she had me walk into the sea, facing backward with my hands in my hair. Then, I looked to the other side. We returned to the sand, and she had me kneel while looking sexy at the camera, followed by a fierce pose. She then had me lie down on the sand, spreading my wet hair – a serious gaze at the camera, fingers placed on my cheek. Finally, she had me kneel again, this time looking at the sea, emphasizing my sexy back, and even chased a candid pose.

He nodded to my words and we exchanged an handshake before I got to work. I changed my clothes to a black leather pants, leaving my upper body bare and I began working. I held a powder brush, with the brush up near my face and my hand in a relaxed position with a flirty smile on my face as I was resting on the wall and the shot was taken. I struck another pose of making my hand to be hovering over a palette of powders, with my fingertips just touching the powders, giving it the impression of a product shot and the shot was taken that way.

"Can't I?" Was his looks not deserving of that? "Sure," Paige replied. Then, Paige took out her phone and started taking photos of Chris again. She took two shots and then said, "Change your pose." Who would take multiple photos with just one pose? Chris glanced at Paige and then stood up to change his pose. Paige took more photos with her phone, and after every two shots, Chris would change his pose. At the end of it, Paige looked at the photos she took, feeling extremely satisfied.

“On your back. Legs spread wide and held open. Arms above your head. You’re going to be my perfect little model. That means you stay completely still. No matter what I do to you. Understand?” I nod, throat dry, and climb onto the wide wooden table covered with a soft sheet. I lie back, stretch my arms overhead, and part my thighs obscenely wide. My knees are bent, feet planted flat, pussy completely open and on display under the bright overhead lights. The pose is pure filth—every pink, dripping inch of me exposed like a living sculpture for his eyes and hands.

I named that pose "Fairy Dance." For the fourth pose, my body faced sideways while my eyes stared sharply at the front camera. Meanwhile, the other hand tossed my white shoulder bag so that the bag floated in the air as if posing with me, with me as the controller of the bag's leash. My bag eventually fell off the stage.

“Imagine you’re lying to a billionaire.” “I am lying to a billionaire.” “Exactly.” By the time we break for lunch, I’ve learned the top five poses for pap shots, the brand philosophy behind her perfume deal (inspiring confidence in women by smelling like aspirational sadness, I guess?), and the precise art of how Harper holds her phone in selfies. Arm at forty-five degrees, chin tilt, tongue never out. This is a war, not a college dorm. "What about your agent, manager whatever you call them?" I ask.

He said chuckling. He bent a little and started snapping while I did a different pose. "Hope you are not snapping rubbish," I called out while I squatted moving my right leg forward a bit and touching my hair. "No ma'am," He said chuckling again. After feeling satisfied with the pose have made, I collected my iPhone from Drake. I checked the pictures and they were beautiful. "Seems you are not a bad photographer," I smirked at him. "Well am not." He said feeling quite proud of himself.

“Always excellent at dodging. Come here!” Raven pulled Gia to a corner of the garden with green cacti lined with white thorns and blooming with bright red flowers. “Stand there!” Raven stepped back, intending to photograph Gia, but changed his mind when he saw her stiff pose, like she was taking an ID photo. “What about raising your hand like this?” Raven demonstrated a casual pose, tilting his body and holding up a V-sign. Gia copied him but still couldn’t shake her awkwardness. Her smile looked forced.