Performance Related Pay

My eyes flickered open as the shrill staccato of my alarm clock tattooed on my skull, seemingly without end and insistent that I wake up. I threw a look of disgust in its general direction, cursing the blessed thing for interrupting my sleep, quickly following the look with my clenched fist which thumped down hard, silencing it mid-screech. Closing my eyes in relief I decided to treat myself to another minute or two of rest.

Twenty five minutes later, after managing to prise my eyelids open with my finger-tips I rubbed unconsciously at the sides of my face, slowly focusing on the clock through narrowed eyes. Damn! It surely couldn't be that time already, could it? After a frantic struggle to untangle myself from the sheet that had twisted itself around my lower half, I managed to stagger into the bathroom, showering quickly before diving into the bottom of my wardrobe for a t-shirt that looked like it didn't need ironing. Within ten minutes, my t-shirt inside out, hair still wet from the hastily taken shower, I slammed the car door closed and jabbed blindly at the ignition socket with my front door key. Condemning myself to an eternity stoking the fires of Hell at my inability to choose the right key, I took a deep breath, holding the bunch of keys in my outstretched palm. A full minute passed before I selected the right key, inserting it carefully, sighing with relief as the engine purred to life.

The drive passed quickly, but it still gave me enough time to go over in my mind everything that could go wrong. I pulled into the closest parking space to the entrance of the studio and let the engine die, trying in vain to remember some of my relaxation exercises, but they weren't working. I hurried inside, giving my name quickly to the receptionist who smothered a laugh, and headed straight for the toilets; this was a ritual part of my pre-audition routine, and I knew that if I didn't complete it then there was a very real chance that nerves would have me pissing my pants before casting made their decision. Suitably emptied, I approached the mirror and fixed my hair, groaning as I realized why the receptionist had laughed as I passed the desk. My heart was thumping heavily in my chest as I made my way back out into the foyer.

"That's much better." She said as I approached her. "Take a seat Joe."

Blushing furiously I sat down on one of the soft leather couches which decorated the reception area, slumping back without warning into the squishy cushions, moaning with the effort of pulling myself out of the depression my ass had made and sat on the edge of the seat with my hands locked together, sweat making an unpleasant squelching noise as I clasped my fingers. Gazing around the room it became glaringly apparent that I was not the only nervous potential there; perhaps for some of the others, it was their first time also. Faces stared blankly at the posters adorning the walls, fingers tapped on knees and legs crossed and uncrossed at an alarming rate. There were, however, some guys that looked completely at ease, showing no apparent signs of worry, perhaps they were old hands at this.

Within a few minutes my eyes had fixed on the pretty young receptionist, wondering why I hadn't noticed her properly earlier. Housed as she was behind the reception desk, I was only able to see her from the shoulders upwards, much to my disappointment. She looked to be around twenty, with brunette hair trying its best to reassert its presence through the bleached blonde. Her delicate ears were home to a pair of small diamond studs which glinted slightly as the light shimmered against them while she worked. The slate grey of her eyes had me transfixed for a moment as I watched her gaze run across the computer screen in front of her. She blinked, eyelashes sweeping down, breaking my eye contact with her, but still I roamed her face. Her cheeks were a pale rosy red, the result of a subtly applied blusher, defining her cheekbones perfectly, while the brighter red of her lips clashed beautifully with her pale skin. A full pouting bottom lip was being bitten on softly as a puzzled expression spread across her features; I closed my eyes, picturing myself running my fingers through her hair, stroking her ears as I sucked teasingly on her lips.

An unconscious moan escaped me and my eyes flew open again, relief washing over me as I realized that no-one had taken any notice. My eyes moved to her neck, long and slender, so very smooth. All thoughts turned to kissing it as she turned her head to the side, running a fingertip over the screen as she read back what she had typed. Then her hand was on her face, a fingertip grazing the soft skin at the edge of her eyebrow, moving slowly down her face, leaving a white trail behind for a split second before the blood returned the skin to its original state of near perfection. She wiggled her nose, screwing her eyes up in much the same fashion as Sam did when she performed her magic in Bewitched, the look of confusion spread over her face. The long slim index finger of her right hand slid softly across her bottom lip as she opened her mouth slightly, revealing a set of brilliant white teeth.

I licked my lips slowly, tasting her finger against my tongue, sucking on it gently, before focusing again; watching as recognition flashed across her face and her lips formed a smile so full that it lit up her whole face, piercing her skin in matching dimples on both cheeks. I smiled at her without intending to and hurriedly diverted my gaze as she turned her attention in my direction. I gathered a selection of reading material from the small glass table before me and went about pretending to read the literature.

Ten minutes passed, although it felt like an hour before our presence was graced by a slim girl with short blonde hair in a pixie cut. Her eyes were like chips of blue ice and she looked worldly wise; she could have been twenty-nine, she could have been nineteen. Her small tits were molded by a skinny black t-shirt, her nipples poked against the soft confining material and I could imagine myself pushing them up in my hands, sucking on her soft flesh, biting on her nipples. Her face lit up as she smiled, showing her pearly little teeth, her arm stretched out as she gestured quickly for us all to follow her through to the next room. As I stood up I became instantly aware that between both women, they had had a very positive effect on my cock and despite my best attempts, there was no way that matters were going to change any time soon. I glanced back at the receptionist and it was obvious bye her giggle that my predicament had not gone by unnoticed.

"Hello, my name is Phil." A tall, balding man in his late thirties stood a few feet in front of us holding a clipboard. "Anyone who isn't up for this can leave now, no hard feelings."

The room fell silent except for the rustle of shirt collars as heads turned side to side, looking for signs of anyone wanting to leave.

"Good, least we have that settled. Get your clothes off then, let's have a look at you all." Phil said before looking down at his clipboard.

I stood for ages, not able to move; I knew I was still semi-erect and seeing the blonde pixie standing beside Phil didn't help matters. She wasn't looking directly at me, but I knew that once my clothes were off then she would surely take more than a passing glance. I gave serious consideration to leaving at that point, but I was desperate for the money and it was an easy way to make it, if I could just school my body to comply with my wishes. In the end, seeing the other men naked spurred me on, it was clear that I wasn't the only one having problems and I started pulling my clothes off quickly, eyes trained on a small smudge on the far wall, fingers clenching and unclenching by my side as we waited. The only sounds in the room came from the scratch of Phil's pen on his clipboard and the hushed whispers between himself and the blonde. When they started to walk over to where we were standing I heard a couple of the guys give nervous coughs and I stole a look to the side, watching, as one by one Phil tapped the guys on the shoulder and whispered into their ears. At that point, they picked their clothes up and left through another door which stood open on the right of the door we had entered through.

"You're in." I jumped as Phil whispered in my ear and his hand groped my shoulder. Was it a grope? It certainly felt like a grope as I stood there naked, but I gathered my clothes and followed the trail guys that had made it through the first stage as they filed out.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I passed through the door and was passed a slip of paper by a hand just inside. I never thought to look at the owner of the hand; I was too engrossed with the note, the contents of which turned out to be directions for my pose amongst the collage of naked bodies that would be arranged against the plain white wall ahead. On the floor in front of the white wall, a massive white dustsheet lay rippled, like a sea of whitecaps, dotted around the edge by stainless steel buckets filled with what looked to be paint of varying colors. Almost immediately the men that had made it through along with me started to arrange themselves against the wall, crouching, heads bowed down, bare hairy asses raised up in invitation. Why I thought that they were inviting I didn't want to dwell on, but it's what I thought when I saw them; luckily I had been given a different pose altogether.

With the note tucked into my bundle of clothes, I dropped the pile onto the floor and willed my cock to soften one last time before walking slowly over to the wall. There were eight other men, different nationalities, skin colors; split into two huddled groups of four, a three foot gap between each group. I took my place between the sets as was written in my instructions and waited for Phil to come through to instruct us further. I managed a smile as I glanced down, looking between the men, seeing my cock wilt before my eyes, only to have it spring back to attention as my gaze fell on the blonde head of Phil's assistant as she preceded him into the room.

"Right gentlemen, you all know your poses and from the looks of it we're ready to start, I'll just get my camera and Imogen will get to work." He gave a brief smile of encouragement and walked quickly to a table near the end of the room where several cameras lay.

As he walked back I raised my eyes out to the side and closed my eyes slightly, in a vain attempt to make Imogen appear as no more than a blur but it wasn't working. She kicked off her shoes quickly and I was treated to the sight of her tiny feet, delicate arches and nicely turned ankles. I swallowed deeply as she approached one of the buckets, watching a smile wreath her face as she plunged her hands straight into the paint; as Phil took his place and started to click away on the shutter release, Imogen pulled her hands out of the slippery mess and flicked the paint across our bodies. There were gasps as the cold wetness splattered over our skins and I felt my own mouth open with shock but I knew this wasn't what Phil was after and closed my mouth quickly, turning my head to the side as time and time again I felt myself being showered. My arms felt tired as the minutes passed, but still I managed to hold my arms to the side, the state of my cock no longer an immediate concern.

"Okay, you're doing really well. Joe, drop your arms down a bit please. The rest of you, I want you to rise up slightly, reach out towards Joe, the ones closest to him I want to rest their hands on his thighs and hips." Phil's voice was matter-of-fact while I did my best goldfish impression.

"Cash in hand." Came a furious whisper from somewhere near my cock.

"Excuse me?" I managed between clenched teeth.

"Think of the cash."

"What else would I be thinking of?"

"Dunno mate, but I really don't want to be eyeballing your stiffy." I was mortified, but knew that my rising color wouldn't be seen through the rainbow of paint that streaked my face.

"If you two are quite finished, let's get this final set of photos done, then you can shower off."

Imogen threw the paint with hellish glee, liberally splashing herself at the same time; she looked beautiful and carefree, I could see wildness in her eyes that I wanted to tame but I had to school my features, this was work, nothing more. All too soon it was over, my arms dropped, Phil's camera finally went quiet, the hands that I had been trying to ignore on my body fell away and Imogen was wiping her hands down on her skirt.

"That was good work gentlemen, I think we can call it a day and you can hit the showers, you'll find them on the door to the left of reception, you'll get paid once you're cleaned up." With that, Phil turned away, busying himself with the used up spools, which left us with nothing to do but follow his instructions.

None of us spoke as we wiped our feet; Imogen was making herself scarce, jogging quickly out of the room, destination unknown. I was reluctant to share any shower with another man, holding back for a moment as they all headed out to the reception area ahead of me. When the studio door clicked shut quietly behind me I was once again face to face with the receptionist, but with the paint covering me, I felt as though I was wearing a disguise, it was possible that she wouldn't recognize me, but she smiled and I knew straight away that she had.

"You look... colorful."

"Th... thanks." I managed to stutter out.

"No need to be nervous, I won't bite... unless you ask really nicely." She laughed softly and that was my undoing.

My hands were shaking as she stood up behind her desk and I only just managed to keep my dignity intact as I walked quickly towards the door I had seen the other men walk through, pausing only for a second to look over my shoulder at her before pushing my way into the shower room.

Steam billowed in clouds from the communal shower along the far wall; a muddy river of paint residue whirled away down the drain at the far end and a long line of asses greeted my eyes. There was no way I was going to squeeze myself in there, so instead, I sat down on a bench on the left of the door near to a set of shelves piled high with towels. One by one the men finished showering and stepped clear of the water, heading over to where I was sitting, hauling towels off the shelf, drying themselves quickly. I averted my eyes and stood up once more, heading over to the now empty shower, stepping beneath the spray and turning my face up into it gratefully. The only talk was of the money that we would receive, as they finished drying themselves; I didn't join in or add anything to the conversation, but felt relief as their noise lessened and one by one they left, eventually leaving me alone.

I grabbed for the bottle of shower gel sitting on the bottom of the shower and squirted a generous dollop into the palm of my hand, rubbing it in circles over my chest, closing my eyes as the heat sank through to the aching muscles in my arms and shoulders. It took me a few seconds to realize that the door to the shower room had been opened, but I paid it no heed; only turning my head when I heard feminine laughter close behind me.

"You don't mind sharing your shower with a couple of girls do you Joe?" I turned my head and felt my jaw go slack as I watched the receptionist start to pull the hem of Imogen's top upwards, giving a tantalizing glimpse of bare midriff.

"Uh... not at all, I'm nearly done." I had no idea how much paint had washed away, I suddenly didn't care; these two women were going to get into the shower alongside me and weren't too shy about it either.

"Don't rush Joe, I'm going to need your help to make sure that we get all the paint washed off her, you'd be amazed just where it can get to." She had made short work of the t-shirt, exposing Imogen's rosy tipped little tits and had knelt down, hooking her fingers in the waistband of the short clingy skirt, beginning to tug it down; my heart began to race and I was glad of the water washing away the sweat I felt breaking out across my body.

"I'm lucky to have Lucy; she's so thorough you wouldn't believe it." Imogen gave a resigned look, shrugging her shoulders as Lucy pushed the skirt down past her knees.

"Well you can't go the whole day splattered in paint now Imogen, we'll get done quickly today though, I've got Joe to help me this time." I stifled a girl-like shriek of excitement and fear, rubbing my hands over my eyes, just incase what I was seeing wasn't real and just some sort of hallucination; but it wasn't; they were for real and so was my aching cock.

"You've gone and scared him Lucy, naughty girl." Imogen wagged a finger at Lucy who had her head tilted back, smiling naughtily.

"You aren't scared are you Joe, we're just helping each other out is all, you don't mind do you?" I gave a shaky smile as Lucy turned her head towards me.

"Uh... no, I'm far from scared." I was a raging mass of testosterone and anticipation, the water cascading over my head was ignored as I started to move forwards.

It felt as though I was walking through treacle, my movements held a dream-like quality, as did those of the two women, who had given up on taking their time, and were now frantically pulling at each other's clothes.

"I didn't realize you had gotten paint on yourself too Lucy, thought it was just Imogen." I raised my eyebrow at her, to which she stood up and turned around, showing me two delicious-looking small hand prints on the ass of her black skirt.

"What can I say?" She gave a very Gallic shrug of her shoulders and made no demur as Imogen pushed the skirt down over her hips.

I waited patiently as both girls stripped completely, my mouth dry with the possibilities as inch after inch of perfect skin was uncovered, till at last they stood in front of me in no more than tiny scraps of silk that only just managed to cover their mounds; it was the perfect wet dream, but it was for real.

"Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to help us out?" I jumped like I'd been shot as Imogen spoke.

"I'm right there." I didn't waste any more time on thinking, anytime soon the sweet vision might disappear.

I moved in quickly behind Lucy and dropped down, my mouth level with her ass; my breath was rapid and shallow and even although the room was hot, I could see Lucy's skin start to goose-bump as my breath fanned the cheeks of her ass. She leaned forwards slightly, her hands resting on Imogen's shoulders, pushing her ass out, brushing it against my face, making it impossible for me not to inhale her scent, musky and heady. My fingers were trembling as I began to drag the narrow band of elastic down, wetting my lips as she wiggled a little. My God, but she was wet, the tiny scrap of material that had been covering her cunt was soaked, dark; I wanted to hold it to my face, smell it, but I was a scant inch or two away from her glistening folds. I moved towards my prize as I pushed the unneeded g-string down past her knees, my hands sliding swiftly upwards, cupping and spreading her buttocks, with held breath I flicked my tongue against her dusky colored ass hole and was rewarded as she moaned softly, pushing further onto my tongue.

"She's lovely and wet Joe, I can smell just how excited she is, slide your finger inside her pussy; feel how tight she is." Imogen ordered.

"He's doing well enough without your help sweetie, now kiss me." My gut clenched as a picture of the two of them appeared in my mind, but it was only a fleeting one as I concentrated once more on what I was itching to do.

My tongue swirled around her little crease, stabbing at it from time to time much to her delight as she moaned into Imogen's mouth. The wet heat of her pussy was incredible as I laid my fingers flat along her slit, rubbing my fingertips in tight circles over her little nubbin. Her hips began to buck, her cries grew louder as she clung onto Imogen; high and keening as I thrust two fingers high into her cunt. She had been right; my fingers were being clamped tightly in Lucy's wet sheath, almost sucked deeper. I buried my face against her ass and started fucking her pussy with my fingers, getting faster all the time; her juices coated my fingers, dripped down onto my hand, my cock strained, I could almost feel what it would be like to be balls deep inside her. Her hips rocked faster as she started to cum, letting go of Imogen, dipping low down, opening herself up completely to me. My tongue managed to work its way inside her ass and I held it there as I continued to work her pussy; she was sobbing but I didn't let up until I felt the first soft touch of Imogen's hand on my shoulder.