On a typical London day under a gray sky, I found myself in front of an imposing Georgian townhouse, camera bag slung over my shoulder, the weight of it helping calm my slight anxiety. I knocked.
I was waiting for the woman who had called me for a photo shoot, offering me nothing more than her address. It was a bit mysterious, this client without a name. My curiosity was definitely piqued.
I heard the faint click of a lock sliding and the door opened to reveal a slender figure in the doorway. She was dressed in a fuzzy white sweater and cutoff jean shorts, her face hidden in the shadows of the apartment behind her.
"Hello," she said, her voice low and husky.
"Hi," I replied, feeling a bit off guard. She wasn't quite what I was expecting. "You called about the photoshoot?"
She nodded and stepped aside. I stepped into the apartment, admiring the luxury of the place. It was all modern, with sleek furniture and contemporary decor. The walls were splashed with vibrant colors, and the carpet was white and plush beneath my feet.
"Thank you for coming," the woman said, still keeping her face turned away from me.
"My pleasure. You wanted the boudoir session, right?"
"Yes," she said. She stepped further into the room, and I finally got a good look at her face.
It was Anya Taylor-Joy, one of the most famous actresses in the world.
I had to do a double take, not believing I was standing in the same room as her. I was completely taken aback by her presence, and I could feel my heart rate start to rise.
"Uh, wow," I stammered, completely flustered.
She smiled at me, the expression lighting up her face. "You don't have to be nervous," she said reassuringly. "I'm just like any other client."
"Right," I said, trying to compose myself. I cleared my throat. "So, how do you want to do this?"
"Well, I have some ideas," she said, her tone suddenly becoming more flirtatious. She stepped closer to me, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I'd rather you surprise me."
My heart hammered in my chest, and I tried to focus on the task at hand. After a few deep breaths, I forced myself to calm down and think about where to begin the shoot.
We started in front of a grand bay window. She was a natural, transitioning between poses with an easy grace.
The conversation also flowed effortlessly. Anya, despite her fame, was surprisingly down-to-earth, asking about my humble beginnings in photography. I laughed, reminiscing about the quaint town of Derby where I first picked up a camera.
"Derby, you say?" she asked casually, her eyes on mine. "Did you ever visit Glossop? It's not far from Derby."
A flicker of unease passed through me at her words. "Yes, I was there about four years ago. Lovely place," I replied, looking down at my camera to check the settings.
Anya's eyes narrowed thoughtfully and she tucked her hair behind her ear as she spoke of her cousin who used to live there around that time. She reminisced about how they had grown up together as children. Anya sighed and said, "I miss her," but before I could respond, she suggested, "Let's go do some shots in the kitchen."
We relocated and Anya stood in front of the sink, her hands on her hips, with that cute white sweater and sexy cutoffs shorts.
Her face lit up with a mischievous grin, and before I realized what was happening she had pulled her sweater down off her shoulders, revealing her perky breasts. I panicked for a few seconds as my mind struggled to process what was going on. I eventually remembered to click the shutter, pretending like this type of thing happened every day.
(Note: Click on the photos to see full-size and scroll to zoom in & out)
Just as quickly as she had revealed herself, she covered up again, her laughter ringing in the air. "Sorry, did I surprise you?" she asked coyly. My cheeks flushed a bit and I confessed she had caught me off guard.
My mind was racing. Boudoir photography was sexy, but had never crossed the line into straight out nudity. Anya surely knew this.
Why was she being so forward? Was she interested in me?
My cock began to harden with arousal.
Could I do it? Should I? With her fame, the consequences were far more risky.
I noticed Anya watching me carefully, and I hurriedly suggested we move to the bedroom for the next shots.
She smiled and said, "I'd thought you never ask." before leading me upstairs.
Once in her bedroom, she shucked off the shorts, revealing cute panties and a perfect cameltoe. I crouched down for the next shot to try to hide my now raging erection.
Anya ran a finger along her collarbone as I snapped pictures, her lips parted in an inviting way.
"Do you want me to take it off?" she purred, her voice low and throaty.
I lowered the camera and nodded, my throat dry and my pulse racing. She slowly slipped off panties and then her sweater, leaving her completely naked. She stepped closer to me, her eyes never leaving mine. She was so beautiful, even more in person than on the screen. I could feel my body heat up, and I tried desperately to focus on my task.
I took picture after picture, my hands shaking. Finally, I stepped back and lowered my camera. Anya stepped closer to me, her eyes still smoldering.
"Forget the camera," she said gently.
I felt my heart beat faster as I set it down. I stepped forward, and our bodies collided. Anya's lips were on mine, her tongue exploring my mouth. I felt my body melt into hers, my hands caressing her curves.
I trailed kisses down her neck to her nipples, the little pink buds erect against my tongue. Anya moaned softly and I could feel her hips shift. I slid my hand up her thigh and she ground against me as my fingers slid across her wet pussy. I pushed a finger inside her, her slick walls enveloping me, my cock twitching in my pants as I felt how dripping wet she was.
She pulled me onto the bed and I buried my face between her legs, licking and sucking on her clit, teasing her. Anya bucked and moaned loudly, her fingers tangled in my hair, her hips grinding against my face.
While I was licking her pussy juice, there was another part of me in total disbelief this was happening.
This was Anya Taylor-Joy,world-famous actress. I mean, why had she called me, some random London photographer when she could have some of the best photographers anywhere do a photoshoot for her? And why was she making love to me, when she could probably have any guy she wanted?
My train of thought was interrupted though by her pulling me up, "Stop before I cum," she said, then smiled impishly, "Not yet anyway. Now take off your shirt."
Yes ma'am! I actually have pretty nice abs, so with some confidence I pulled my shirt over my head, making sure not to pull my necklace off as well.
But when I looked to see her reaction to my six pack, I was taken aback to see a flash of overwhelming emotion pass across her face, like a mask had slipped. As quickly as it was there, it was gone, and she smiled up at me as if nothing had happened. I was about to say something when she reached into my pants and grabbed my rock hard cock.
Immediately all other thoughts fled as I felt her warm hand stroking my cock, bringing me almost to the brink of cumming. I knew there was no turning back now. Star or no star, I was going to do it.
She then pulled off my pants and said teasingly "I'm still waiting on those abs baby."
I lay back on the bed, my cock pointing straight up as she began massaging my chest. She bent down and sucked on my nipples, teasing me. Then she moved further down, her tongue tracing a line over my stomach. She paused for a second, and I gripped the sheets, my mind racing as I imagined her mouth wrapped around my cock.
She flicked her tongue against the tip and my cock jumped, a little bit of pre-cum dribbling out.
Anya looked up at me and smiled as she licked it off, then suddenly took my cock deep into her mouth. She bobbed her head back and forth, her hand pumping my shaft as she sucked on the head. She then circled the tip with her tongue and sucked even harder, pulling me deeper into her throat.
Every muscle in my body tensed, my eyes rolling back in my head. She shifted her mouth a little so the tip of my cock was hitting the back of her throat, and she swallowed hard. The warm feeling of suction rippled through my cock, and it throbbed in her mouth as she continued to swallow. I groaned in pleasure, my hands buried in her hair as I watched her lovely face bob back and forth against my cock. Her eyes locked on mine as she took my pre-cum into her and then swallowed it down.
The sight was so erotic I could hardly stand it, and suddenly I flipped Anya over, pulling her ass up into the air. Her pussy was wet and open for me, and I plunged my cock deep inside her, causing her to gasp.
I grabbed her hair as I drove into her, feeling her pussy tighten around my cock. I watched as her face looked back at me over her shoulder, her eyes closed in pleasure and her mouth open as she moaned softly. For the first time that day, I felt entirely in control, and I started pounding harder and harder into her.
Her pussy clenched my cock as I fucked her and she began to scream, her whole body convulsing and shuddering as she came hard.
Anya whirled around and leaped on top of me, spreading her legs, and lowered her pussy onto my cock. I grabbed her tits and groped them roughly as she rode me, her ass bouncing up and down on my cock. I gazed at her beautiful face, flushed with pleasure and glistening with sweat.
Suddenly she stopped and leaned in close to me, "No, not inside me." she said in soft husky voice, "Cum on my face?"
I slowly nodded, my throat dry and my pulse racing. She got down on her knees and looked up at me, then opening her mouth and offering her tongue. It was so hot I almost came right then and there. But there was something... something in her eyes, a hard, almost angry look, that didn't match the wanton way she was acting.
But that thought slipped away from me as I began jacking my cock over her. She gave my cock teasing licks and I exploded, and my whole body shivered as I emptied my balls. I watched in disbelief as Anya's face and tongue was bathed in my cum, her mouth open and her eyes open and focused on me.
She smiled up at me, a look of satisfaction, even victory in her eyes. I stood there for a moment, my body still trembling.
My hands were shaking a bit too, partly from the mind-blowing orgasm, partly from what I was about to do.
My hands always shake beforehand, even though this will now be my seventh victim.
"Just one moment," I ask, "I need to grab my pills, sorry." I walked over to my camera bag and unzipped a hidden panel on the side. Positioning my body so she couldn't see me, I took out a length of rope, some wrist ties, and long knife with slightly curved blade.
I'd used the same knife on all the girls.
As I touched it once again, a dark thrill ran up my spine.
But then I heard her voice, soft yet firm.
She began talking about her cousin, the one who had lived in Glossop.
She spoke of how they had been like sisters and her voice seemed to fill the room, as a feeling of dread began to wash over me.
The fragments of our conversation, her probing questions, her sudden emotion, they began to all make sense now.
"I needed to be sure it was you," she said in a low, steady voice. I turned around, my heart hammering against my chest, my grip tightening on the knife hidden behind my back.
And there she was, the ethereal actress, standing tall, a gun pointing at me. Her eyes, earlier sparkling with mischief and allure, were now filled with grief and anger.
"I gave Katie that locket when she was twelve," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "She never took it off."
I felt the cold metal against my skin, the keepsake from my first victim that I always wore. The pieces fell into place in a horrifying mosaic of realization.
Anya’s gaze never wavered from mine as I clutched at the damning piece of evidence around my neck. A shiver of fear prickled down my spine, but it was too late. The game was up.
She stared at me, her gaze icy cold as she trained the gun on me, her hand steady. A single tear traced a path down her cheek, glinting in the dim light, but her resolve didn’t waver.
"I was planning on turning you in and using the DNA from your cum to prove it was you. But now, since you brought that knife, I see there is a much... simpler option." she said.
Panic rose within me and I dropped the knife, "No - I'll surrender, please don't!"
Anya just gave me a sad smile through her tears.
“This is for Katie,” she said, her voice ringing clear and sharp. And then the deafening echo of a gunshot filled the room.
Pain exploded in my chest, hot and blinding. My knees buckled, and I fell onto the polished hardwood floor, inches from the knife. As the shockwave of pain rippled through me, I looked up at Anya.
She towered above me, her figure a silhouette against the soft glow of the setting sun that spilled through the tall, elegant windows. There was a grim satisfaction in her eyes as she kicked away my knife.
My heart pounded in my ears, the sound deafening in a room that had suddenly grown very quiet. The cold of the floor seeped through me, each breath growing increasingly labored, the pain intensifying with every beat of my heart. The room around me blurred, the elegant furnishings of the townhouse melting into a haze of color and shadow.
Anya stood there for a moment longer looking at me calmly, then took out her phone. My vision began to blur, and my hearing went in and out, but I heard snippets of her speaking in a panicky voice, "Yes he just tried to kill me! He attacked me with a knife. Please get here as soon as you can. Yes I'll wait outside."
The panicked breathing stopped as soon as she hung up. Yes, she was a fine actress indeed.
I then heard her turn and walk away, the echoing click of her heels growing fainter and fainter.
I was left alone in the eerie silence of the townhouse, the echoes of my sins, and the whispering ghosts of my victims my only company. My vision blurred further, the world tilting around me as the darkness crept in, inch by inch.
The last thing I heard was the faint creak of a door closing in the distance. And then, there was only the silence, punctuated by the fading rhythm of a heart that had reached its end.