Free Feather Light (Knead Me) by Lorenz Font

her had felt excited when he’d bound her hands, but in retrospect, it frightened her. She closed her eyes, feeling tired. Parker was a Dom of some sort, as the article suggested. And if she were with him, she’d be a submissive ? Kelly wasn’t sure she liked the word, but she couldn’t shake off the thrill she’d experienced under his guidance.

    “I can’t believe you overslept!” Jessica shrieked, lifting the pillow off Kelly’s face.
    “Go away,” she mumbled and tried to pull the pillow back down. The sound of hushed voices came from the other side of the room, momentarily paralyzing her. Kelly bolted upright upon realizing she had company. She had forgotten about the Gucci photo shoot and the taping for the David Letterman Show .
    “Oh dear!” She gasped when she saw the crews gawking at her and whispering among themselves. Some she’d already worked with in the past, but others were new faces. Kelly slid out of the bed and faced Jessica’s fury.
    Jessica Renoir was her assistant, gopher, confidante, and best friend. “You’d better have a good explanation for being late.” Jessica pushed her to the bathroom amid the curious stares of the photographer and the makeup and lighting crews. 
    As soon as they were away from prying eyes, Jessica shoved Kelly’s toothbrush into her hand. “Brush. It’s all you have time for, considering how late it is.” Her tone suggested she was irked, so Kelly complied without arguing. “I can see you had company last night . . .,” her best friend observed with keen interest.
    She finished brushing her teeth and splashed cold water on her face. Jessica yanked her back into the room, where the crew was already rearranging the furniture, leaving the sofa in one corner and adding some shimmery throw pillows and yards of orange taffeta-looking fabric in the surrounding area. A big, black canvas stood behind the sofa, and light fixtures were being assembled.
    “Here’s your first outfit, Ms. Storm.”
    A representative from Gucci lifted a garment bag before her. She took it while Jessica shooed her back to the privacy of the bathroom. Kelly hung the bag behind the door and pulled the zipper down. A white gown burst out of the confines, and she gasped. Fingering the fine material and the intricate embroidery around the bodice, Kelly removed the outfit and dressed in haste.
    A hush fell over the room when she walked out. The men followed her movement with open admiration, their eyes fixed on the low-cut neckline that barely covered her breasts. The women were more guarded, but their expressions conveyed envy.
    “Please, sit right here.” Fiona, a makeup artist Kelly had worked with a couple of times in the past, gestured to the space she’d set up next to the bed.
    Jessica followed and pulled a chair next to her as Fiona began applying the basics to Kelly’s face. “We have less than two hours before the limousine arrives for your taping,” Jessica said while consulting her Blackberry. “I will ask my questions later. For now, just pray Fiona can do magic on those horrible bags of yours.”
    Fiona giggled, and Jessica continued reciting her schedule for the day. Kelly tuned them out after they began chattering and closed her eyes. The next two hours were as excruciating as getting her teeth pulled—changing outfits, posing for a millionth time, and being under the hot lights as if she were a piece of cooking meat.  
    As soon as the photo shoot was over and everyone had left, she changed into a simple black sheath and high-heeled shoes. She left her hair the way Fiona had arranged it. The makeup artist and the hair expert at the studio would change them anyway. Kelly grabbed her purse, slipped on her dark glasses, and followed Jessica out the door.  
    “You ready?” Jessica asked once they stepped off the lobby elevator. The plush carpeting muffled their footsteps while they headed to the front door. A doorman dipped his head and held the glass door open for