Picture Me

 

At first, I thought the picture of me was real. It was on an 8 1/2 by 11 sheet of paper, apparently printed up from one of our laser printers, as if taken from the internet. I found it on my keyboard when I walked into the office on a Monday morning. And of course, it shocked me, because I was naked! Almost immediately, I knew it couldn't be real, though. Because I'd never posed for any such picture, nor ever been tied up.

It was of me, or my face on a body which was somewhat similar to mine, naked save for white lace stockings, and white gloves which rose almost to my shoulders, kneeling on a floor with my legs spread wide. You could see the base of a dildo which was stuffed up into my naked sex, and my breasts were wrapped around with rope which made them bulge. I was wearing a collar and a ball-gag, and my arms were bound together behind my back.

I was shocked, of course, and gaped at it, my purse still in hand! After a few long seconds I remembered to breathe, and snatched it up, my face red as I glared around the office. No one was nearby, though.

I looked at it more closely, expecting to find that my head had been photoshopped onto some model's body, but after closer examination I realized it wasn't a picture so much as a very, very good drawing. I mean, my face was remarkably life-like, and the way my body was depicted was also very realistic except for the breasts.

Even with the rope circling them and making them puff out those breasts were too hard and fat and the nipples ridiculously large. My areolas were nowhere near as big as the drawing, either, and down below, between her thighs was an enormous, swollen pink clitoris.

I crumpled the paper up and threw it into the trash, but then I reconsidered. I didn't want anyone coming and finding it! I took it out and folded it up instead, putting it into my purse, and sat down, heart pounding, and face still very red.

Someone was sending me a none-too-subtle message about how he saw me!

That a picture like that even existed was embarrassing! That someone had carefully drawn it of me, colored it all in to make it seem so very realistic, that was even worse! But it was so good it looked like it was professionally done, by a very talented professional! Who here had that talent?

Well, more than a few people, I thought anxiously. I mean, I was working for an advertising agency on Madison Avenue in New York. I'd only started a few weeks ago, and everyone had been very nice. Of course the men had kind of expressed their... approval, if not admiration of me. But I'm used to that.

I am attractive, and have a really good body, as these things are assessed. I make no claim to anything but luck for my oval, delicately sculpted face, but I work hard at the body, going to the gym on the way home every day. And in anything form fitting I get attention.

But I don't go out of my way to emphasize my body, at least, not at work! It's just that, well, I'm tall and young and attractive. Unless I deliberately dress in bulky, loose clothes I'm going to get noticed. I've come to accept that, and I don't pretend I don't like it at times. But only if the attention is polite.

This most definitely was not!

That morning, for example, I was wearing a white sweater dress. It was a turtleneck, and unadorned, thinly ribbed of stretchy cotton and cashmere which came to about mid-thigh. Then I had black knee-high boots with a four-inch heel underneath. Okay, I know I looked good, but this was Madison Avenue! It wasn't like the women here came to work in potato sacks!

I thought about reporting the picture to HR, but the very idea of showing anyone that picture would have been just too embarrassing! So I decided to ignore it, pretend it didn't happen, and dismiss my not 'secret admirer' as an anonymous pervert.

By noon I had more or less forgotten it. Then when I came back from lunch there was another picture on my keyboard! Or, well, it was the same one, I realized, only expanded. The picture of me kneeling naked with the dildo and my breasts and gloved arms bound had shrunk down to the left bottom of the page.

And there was a man standing next to 'me'. He was naked, and incredibly well-built and well-hung. He had a gorgeously muscled, powerfully built body, from his ankles to his muscled thighs, to his washboard abs and powerful, barrel chest. His arms were muscled, and his cock... hanging limp, looked thicker and longer than most any erect one I'd ever seen! He was holding a riding crop in his right hand as he stood before me.

But the top of the eight and a half by eleven piece of paper ended at his neck.

I wondered if this could possibly be the body of the man who was harassing me, or if it was just his ridiculous, idealized version of some man he thought should do ... well, what was being done in the picture to me.

I mean, when thinking of what kind of man had left the first picture on my desk my mind had run to a skinny, cowardly, balding guy with pimples and a long nose, not to anything like... that!

But no, I was sure that wasn't him. Hell, if that was the guy I'd have let him tie me up, I thought! What a body! Duh! If the face was anything like the body I'd throw myself on my knees in front of him with no need to tie me up!

Again, I folded it up and put it in my purse. No way was I showing this to anyone!

But as the day wore on I have to admit I kept my eyes open for barrel chested men!

I took the pictures home with me that evening, eyeing men suspiciously on the subway. And that evening at home I took them out of my purse, intent on tearing them into tiny pieces and throwing them away, but as I looked at them I found myself shaking my head at the quality.

I mean, aside from the oversized nipples and perfect breasts, well and the huge clitoris, the drawings were almost as good as pictures taken with a camera! And that one with the guy... wow. The way his body rippled with muscles, and the perfect abdomen down to that... cock.