Private Photoshoot of Zendaya
"Come on, this is the chance to let loose some stress." Zendaya's representative said. Zendaya glanced at her reflection while her phone rested on the sink.
"I could simply head to Cabo."
"That's not really a feasible choice. The calendar is packed as it is."
"Could you try to work out the timetable? I don't require a steamy photoshoot." Zendaya brushed aside a trawl of hair from her face. Her face had no glamor, only natural beauty. She donned a plain white shirt with no bra and basic black cloth shorts that revealed her lithe legs.
"Sure, you're accessible just today and tomorrow. Monday you're off to Paris, then back to LA. I'd hate to tell you everything else lined up. If you decline this, you'll feel the strain by Wednesday. Plus, the public can sense when you're overburdened, even if you don't believe it." Her representative detailed.
"Fair enough," Zendaya sighed. "What am I assigned to do exactly?"
"It's rumored to be like every other modeling gig."
"What's the name of the spot? Can you provide more information?" Zendaya trailed to her room and activated her laptop, prepping the search engine.
"Private studio called Clear Faces Studios. They occasionally delve into more x-rated photo shoots."
Zendaya's mouth fell open when she scrutinized the photos. Most of them were stunning European and African models going topless. But when she viewed the videos, they were enticing. One woman, tall and fair with raven black hair and deep green eyes, was giggling at the camera in the first few seconds before a prompt faded to her stripping completely naked, and the remaining seconds were blurred.
"Is this admitting to a nude photo shoot?" Zendaya's heart fluttered. She thought she had glimpsed the shadows of two men in the seconds of the video. She muted it and rewatched it.
"Yes."
"So... why should I engage in that?" Zendaya attempted to display disgust, but a chilling shiver rushed directly along her back. Zendaya paused on the frame, and she saw the silhouettes of two nude men with large penises. The statuesque girl was grining because she was going to be screwed.
"They vow the pictures won't be seen. By what I've heard, their crew is kind and professional. They're willing to bestow a large sum on you specifically. You're the lone high profile American they've come across. If you refuse, I'll reject the offer, but giving it a try won't hurt. It won't take all day, like the others."
"I..." Zendaya hesitated. Her nipples were anchored to the fabric of her shirt. A rush of eagerness stirred within her. As a well-known celebrity (with an upheld standard), being required to abstain from sexual relations for eight months meant no touch. No one had dared venture too near since she'd been basking in her success. Deep down, Zendaya knew Clear Faces were not purely a photoshoot studio. They were a slyly dressed porn studio that craved to break their streak with a Hollywood celebrity, even though the images wouldn't become publicly available.
"I'm in."
*
A few hours later Zendaya drove up to the front of a structure that seemed like a shed. Four in the afternoon in LA's particular corner meant the likelihood of unnervingly voracious paparazzi snapping Zendaya strolling into a regular construction site. She looked right and left a few times before deciding it was safe to exit her car. The adrenaline was beginning to burn. In this circumstance, she no longer cared if someone noticed. This was merely a VIP dick meeting.
Zendaya opened the front door and the location appeared to be crisp. A gentle breeze whirled through the entire front office. The walls were covered in a light blue shade and the floors were smooth, polished marble. It was designed to resemble a spa. A tall and youthful blonde with intense blue eyes sat at the front desk with a beaming smile on her face. She wore an easy white blouse with black dress pants. Her hair was neatly gathered in a bun. She seemingly was around thirty.
"Mrs. Coleman! I'm so pleased to see you!" The blonde ascended and enfolded Zendaya's hand. Zendaya responded with a handshake.
"Thanks. Did you know my name?" Zendaya chuckled.
"Obviously."
"Nice to meet you, Rebecca."
"So," Rebecca dived under her desk and drew out some documents. "I assume you'll be engaging in the full experience, yes?"
"What do you mean?"
"The photo shoot and the film." Rebecca's smile remained brilliant. [});
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