As a rule, female bodybuilders don’t really do it for me so when Jackie answered my advert for models and sent me a few photos I nearly said no. Then I remembered once seeing a photoshoot of a female wrestler in bondage. One of those WWF girls or whatever they called it then. It must have been a long time ago because it was in black and white in a bondage magazine that I’d bought in one of those shops in Soho. The sort where you went into through a plastic curtain hoping nobody saw you and paid a tenner for a single magazine.

Anyway, the girl’s body didn’t do much for me at the time – she looked like a man with breasts but her attitude did. Aside from her attitude, the thing I remember is the nipple clamps she was wearing – little spiked metal balls clipped onto very large solid nipples. I don’t suggest that bodybuilders all have large nipples but it’s what I remember.

I can’t particularly remember how she was restrained – I think she was probably in chains which would certainly fit because, aside from the nipple clamps, I remember noticing how those abnormally large muscles straining against her bondage gave a real sense of how much she was struggling to escape as if being thwarted in her efforts was a personal affront – one that went way beyond any humiliation she might have felt at posing nude for a ‘dirty magazine’. These days, I guess if she was being paid by one of the big US sites she would have had a pretty tough time. I don’t say that girls didn’t back then but the usual complaints that come out of the sixties and seventies are about being tied up too tightly or for too long and overzealous use of the whip. Some of the things that happen to women on the modern sites essentially amount to torture and I’m sure I’ve seen more than a few girls doped up to endure it. Even the women who mostly seem to have fun when they get tied up – which are the ones I like – seem to be treated unnecessarily brutally when modelling for those sites and any flirting or spunk is viscously suppressed which, lets face it, is pretty easy if you’ve got a girl exactly where you want her.

But then, we all know there is a market out there for it; an eager army of misogynists – guys that beat women up and rape them for pleasure.

It’s a market I want no part in.

I like to see a girl in tight bondage and I don’t mind a certain amount of pain and humiliation alongside that but what I really get off on is a story. I don’t mean the cliche of the burglar tying up the woman who owns the house or flimsy plot line of the secretary who ends up at the wrong interview – and don’t get me started on the secret agent/cat burglar who gets caught. They’re all fine in their place and, hell, I use them too. The story I really want to tell through my camera is how the bondage affects the girl and how she deals with it. If I worked with professional actresses I could probably make fiction and fact integrate but I work with models who mostly can’t act which means the bondage has to be real and, if they’re out there in the studio with another model, the main story is the real one of how they respond.

In short, when I do a bondage shoot, I don’t want wimpy muling or feeble struggling. If a girl enjoys bondage – and several of those I shoot regularly do – I want to capture that and I’ll go out of my way to give them the sort of bondage they enjoy. If a girl doesn’t enjoy it, I want to see her struggle, I want to see the frustration and the anger.

And, yes, since you ask, I do give them all safe words.

Which brings me back to strong girl Jackie. She certainly wasn’t the prettiest girl I’ve had apply but she wasn’t bad looking: strong featured is the best way to describe her and, to be fair to her, she wasn’t as pumped as some of those early female body builders – in her shorts and crop top, she looked pretty good.

I wish I could get a six pack like that.

What set Jackie apart was her attitude. She had that look – partly in the way she stood; one of the photos had her ready to power lift – and partly in her expression: a kind of pout – not an arrogance but an expression that she was willing to take on the world and do her damnedest to win.

*

It didn’t surprise me that she was wearing that same pout when she walked into reception at my studio. It remained while I did the checks. I guess it’s a look girls who are into that stuff cultivate. Maybe it keeps unwanted attention at bay even. Of course, the sleeveless white Lycra dress with a roll neck which clung to her screamed ‘look at me’. It made her look surprisingly feminine despite the physique underneath while showing off her shoulders and those biceps that were bigger than mine. Part of this was because it emphasised her breasts which seemed a lot bigger than I’d expected from the photos. Maybe she’d been building them up too. The dress showed off her nipples too – perfect for clothes pegs – I almost regretted that it wouldn’t be me rigging today. She was wearing boots too: shiny black ones that came to the knee.

If she was going to take her clothes off and get tied up, she had clearly planned to play the model from the start.

She pouted while I made sure she was at least eighteen – ‘do I look like a child?’ she snapped – and checked she had the right to work. You’d be surprised how many girls will take their clothes off and get tied up for cash. Most will offer a good many other things too these days. I’d probably have accepted some of those offers too when I was starting out – actually I did – the posing nude for cash ones, not the other services. Well, ok, I succumbed once but in my defence she was very pretty and she agreed to something very kinky when I’d finished my shoot. I think that was when I realised there are some girls that really get off on bondage. Sadly, she was a student and went home to the Ukraine at the end of her course. I wrote but she never replied.

Anyway, I digress. There was Jackie being all pouty and sure of herself as I did the formal stuff. The mask slipped a bit as I talked her through what to expect and what I expected of her.

I’m actually pretty good at putting people at their ease. Most photographers are – you get better images – if you can’t do it you go for landscapes or wildlife. Without wishing to blow my own trumpet I’d say my patter is up there with the best – I regularly persuade girls to take their clothes off and let me tie them up.

I almost had her smiling at one point. That was when Cherry walked in and suddenly all my rules and good intentions flew out of the window.

*

The pout came back and, I thought a little more. Cherry is my resident dominatrix – brought in after Gabby, who previously held that position, wormed her way into my affections, ended up with a share in my business and then recklessly got herself pregnant. I say it like it’s her fault but it’s fifty percent mine and our twins are the result.

Cherry is gorgeous – drop dead gorgeous when Gabby’s not around. She’s also very dominant or, at least, plays the role with aplomb. She’s certainly a woman that enjoys her work and at six feet tall, is imposing enough that she gets to do what she wants. She’s also black. Personally, I don’t have a problem with this: like I say, she gorgeous, deliciously dominant and the camera loves her even if shooting her alongside a pale skinned model can be challenging. If I’m completely honest she one of my USPs – there certainly aren’t many black dominatrixes out there.

Some people do have a problem, though. I’m pretty sure some of the girls I shoot don’t come back because of Cherry’s colour – their loss. Which brings me to Jackie’s reaction. The pout and a little more besides. If she’d done any research – which she must have done to click through my website to the ‘models wanted’ section, she must have seen Cherry. Maybe she was expecting Gabby. Maybe, I thought, she has a thing for leather-clad redheads and was disappointed.

Or, maybe, the other.

Cherry noticed it too and there was a definite hardening of her usual smile as I introduced them and watched the painful slowness in the way Jackie took Cherry’s extended hand.

*

‘Play nice.’ I warned Cherry after Jackie had left to get changed.

‘I always play nice, Terry.’ Cherry purred back. ‘We wouldn’t want to put her off, would we?’

Her smile broadened as she went through the door into the studio.

Like I say, I don’t do stories but based on Jackie’s background I had planned a scene to start the shoot off. If she was going to appear in her gym kit, I wanted the set to fit so, instead of starting in the studio, I’d cleared a space and set some lights up in the garage. I’d dug out my old weights too. The set had a kind of grungy feel and, even though I would be shooting in colour, I had in my mind that I’d publish the set in black and white – a kind of homage to the female bodybuilder I recalled from the magazine.

I was just checking the light when Jackie appeared wearing one of those loose crop T-s that drops off a girl’s shoulder and hangs just below her breasts and a pair of trunks that clung tightly to her very sculpted butt. I could picture guys in the gym following it down as she squatted and back up again. At least it took my attention away from the contemptuous look she gave me as she bent over the weights and pretty much tripled what I’d put on the bar.

In my storyboard – the mental one I keep in my head – strong girl Jackie was working out when she was interrupted by an unwelcome/unexpected visitor. And, in my mind, I wanted that visitor, Cherry, to have enough power over Jackie to take control. Cherry’s a big girl, almost as tall as Gabby, but I was pretty sure she wouldn’t have a shot at beating Jackie.

Hence the gun – a replica, obviously.

Hey, I’m a photographer it’s my job to pay attention to details!

I wasn’t shooting video so it didn’t really matter the motivation or who was on which side but, as I watched Jackie limber up, I figured Cherry was probably the secret agent and Jackie the low-life who had the information she needed or who had double crossed her or whatever.

Hell, if the photos came out, maybe I’d write a story around them like they used to in those old bondage comics – the ones which never quite fitted the photos.

*

So, I watched Jackie do her thing: dead lifting or power lifting or whatever and, yes, when she squatted it was pretty hard not to follow those toned buns and, it’s probably fair to say that when she did the clean and press, lifting the weight above her head, those large firm breasts with their big hard nipples just screamed for attention too.

I could probably have published a set of her lifting and got a pretty good hit rate on the site even if my thing is bondage. And it wasn’t just that sculpted body which suddenly did it for me. There was something about Jackie’s demeanour too, that defensive pout was gone, she was suddenly ‘in the zone’ and it was obviously a place she liked to be.

From a professional point of view, she was a photographer’s dream – that focus that made her behave as if the camera wasn’t there. If only all of my subjects were like that.

I was almost sorry when Cherry came in although the effect she had on Jackie and what she was wearing more or less made up for it. My gorgeous dominatrix was wearing an old fashioned white linen blouse that was tight enough to leave no doubt about the nature of the assets displayed beneath and very tight black leather trousers over shiny heeled knee high boots – a perfect black version of agent U69 from the Sweet Gwendoline comics. It was a killer look and with Cherry’s confidence was enough to bring any man to his knees.

The gun was the icing on the cake.

Her appearance had the desired effect on Jackie too. She was mid-lift, focussed but when she caught sight of Cherry – and the gun – she faltered and, for a moment, that pout fell away. It came back a moment later and she re-centred herself and lowered the weight bar, her eyes fixed on Cherry’s. Then I saw her gaze flick to the chains Cherry was holding in her left hand.

She swallowed.

‘Strip.’ Cherry moved the gun a fraction and from the way Jackie’s eyes followed it, I really wished I’d been shooting video.

I got the shot though – the sudden realisation.

Very slowly, her eyes fixed on Cherry, Jackie gathered up the little crop top and lifted it over her head. Her breasts were among the most beautiful I’ve ever photographed. I guess it’s subjective but, to my eye, they were perfectly shaped, perfectly proportioned and those nipples… I was so transfixed that I almost missed the shot.

I didn’t, of course, I’m a professional.

Then she slid the shorts down her legs and a moment later she was gloriously naked – save, naturally, the resentful pout.

‘Ankles first.’ Cherry tossed a set of ankle cuffs to land at Jackie’s feet.

With the dangerous look of a cornered animal and glaring at Cherry, Jackie crouched. For a moment, I thought she might go for her, but then I watched, rapt, as she slipped one of them around her right ankle and ratcheted it shut, the clicks filling the silence.

Why hadn’t I set up a video? Should I go back? No, as Bresson said ‘seize the moment’.

She shackled the other ankle and stood.

Cherry tossed her the handcuffs. Jackie caught them and clicked one shut around her left wrist then put her hands behind her back, those gorgeous breasts pointing just a little more in my direction, her nakedness almost wantonly displayed.

‘No, in front of you.’

Jackie looked a little surprised at this but complied, fumbling a little with her left hand. If we did this again I’d remind her to do it the other way around – especially if she was cuffing herself behind her back.

‘Now this.’ Cherry held out a heavy and very shiny steel collar. It was part of a new set I’d bought mostly inspired by the thought of having a strong girl chained up in my studio.

They were far enough apart that Jackie could’t just reach out and take it and I watched a brief battle of wills as Jackie realised this. Then, with delicious hobbled steps, the chain between her ankles rustling, she crept forward and took the collar, something shifting in her face as she felt the weight of it. Maybe she thought she could rip the chains of the cuffs – though I’m pretty sure she couldn’t – but I could see she understood the collar was solid enough to contain her.

I took a burst as she lifted it to her neck and another as she tossed her dark hair aside and clicked it shut.

Fuck! If I’d just set up a video even Fancy Steel couldn’t match this.

I was about to call it when Cherry gestured with the gun.

‘Down.’

Jackie’s dark eyes flared wide.

Cherry repeated the gesture, eyes still locked on Jackie and I could almost believe the gun was real and loaded and Jackie was some sort of low life about to be interrogated by secret agent Cherry.

There was another moment, another battle and then, rather awkwardly, thanks to her cuffed ankles, Jackie dropped to her bare knees and then forwards onto all fours.

‘Good girl,’ Cherry said acidly. ‘Now come over here.’

The look Jackie gave her was murderous and, once again, even though she was cuffed, I thought she might go for Cherry but then she crawled forwards in a rustle of chains and I couldn’t help but notice that her pussy was almost as perfect as her breasts.

*

We cut to the studio. Alright, we walked through into the studio. I helped Jackie up, earning me a murderous look from Cherry, and even removed her ankle cuffs. She didn’t get her clothes back though and a few moments, the handcuffs and ankle cuffs were replaced with shiny steel cuffs to match the collar and Jackie was standing between the chrome pillars I use a lot in my shoots, with her arms spread and wrists locked to them at about shoulder height and her legs spread, ankles also cuffed and locked in place. It was a perfect position for her to flex her pecs and a few other things and for Cherry to have unfettered access to her victim.

The defiant pout was still in place and so was the heavy steel collar – a magnificent animal captured but still so defiant and proud that I really didn’t want Cherry to break her.

But I was going to enjoy watching her do it.

Cherry appeared a few moments later wearing a leather bra that displayed her formidable cleavage perfectly in a kind of ‘lift and serve’ manner and knickers that stretched delightfully over her butt. I don’t want to be stereotypical here but some black girls have the most perfect asses. Not that Jackie’s wasn’t worth a second glance or a third.

I could see Cherry’s look grabbed Jackie’s attention too. She’d put heterosexual under her sexual orientation on the form – yes, I’m an equal opportunities employer like everyone else – but if anything was going to sway her, Cherry’s outfit was definitely in with a shot. It screamed dominatrix/torturer in her lair – the braids she was wearing at the moment just seemed to add to the image. I watched her strut round Jackie on her five inch heels – Cherry loves a pair of thigh boots – lingering behind her victim for an unsettlingly long time until Jackie cracked, her eyes flicking to me as she broke role for just a moment.

Slap.

The leather strop Cherry was carrying struck one of Jackie’s perfect buns and the girl gasped. A second later Cherry’s gloved fist was in the other girl’s hair yanking her head back.

Hell, if Cherry was interrogating me, I’d crack within five minutes.

‘As it’s your first time,’ Cherry almost snarled, ‘I’d usually go a little easy on you but I don’t think that’s what you want, is it?’

Jackie’s eyes looked up at Cherry’s and I thought there might be a flicker of fear there then that arrogant expression returned and she gave a tiny shake of the head.

‘Good girl.’ Cherry’s voice carried anything but praise.

She let go of Jackie’s hair and the girl lifted her head, closing her eyes for a moment, focussing, her arms flexing against the steel cuffs linked to the chrome poles. They were steel underneath and concreted in. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

Slap.

The strop fell again on those steel buns. I could see she felt it but she barely moved. Cherry hit her a little harder and Jackie growled. Actually growled, a noise deep in her throat, her powerful limbs snapping against the cuffs with such a jolt, I began to wonder if she could actually rip one of the chrome posts from its concrete mount. I wondered if I should stop the action partly for fear of my studio being wrecked but more for the inevitable complaint that Jackie was probably writing in her head even as she showed Cherry what a tough cookie she was; but I’m a coward and cowards don’t stand in Cherry’s way when she’s doing her thing.

From then on, she stood there and took it.

By the time Cherry had finished Jackie’s cheeks were glowing red.

Maybe I would publish the shoot in colour after all.

*

Cherry is such a consummate performer when in her element – she’s a woman that loves her work – and, I watched as, still holding the strop, she strutted round her victim. My dominatrix was smiling to herself but that vanished as she stood in front of Jackie who stood tensely in her bonds her face flushed but nowhere near as red as her buttocks.

‘I’m going to have such fun with this body.’ She locked eyes with Jackie who, to her credit, stared right back with an ‘if you can dish it out, I can take it’ expression.

Cherry’s finger touched the collar as if to remind its wearer that it was still there and then her finger drifted down to Jackie’s left breast. ‘I’m particularly going to enjoy playing with these. She pinched the nipple hard and Jackie tensed again.

‘Between you and me, Terry’s got a bit of a thing for nipple torture and he’s made some special clamps for you.’

It was true. I’d made some little spiked ones from a pair of electrical clips and some morningstar earrings I bought from a fantasy website.