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The Photographer 2 - Beta
🕑 Added 2018-07-08 18:46:08 +0000 UTC A smile popped on my face as I read the mail from my client, approving my request to increase the charge rate for the next set of clothes. He had been as happy as me when he saw the outcome of the session with Nicole, strongly suggesting me to continue working with her. At that point, I decided to take a risk, and informed him that it was something I couldn’t afford with the current agreement, that I worked with her despite losing money on the deal, because I had promised him a deadline, and my usual model had bailed.I wasn’t expecting him to casually double the payment for the next job, as well as adding a decent bonus to the set I had just delivered to compensate for my loss, but it was by no means unwelcome. I still needed to convince Nicole for another shoot, of course, but that was a challenge easy to clear.
I stood up, my body stiff from sitting in front of the computer for hours. I considered going out for a walk, but a sudden grumble from my stomach interrupted my thoughts, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything apart from half a bagel for breakfast. A problem, considering that I hadn’t bothered to go out shopping.
The solution was simple, I realized. Why don’t I ask my new landlady for some food? It wasn’t absurd considering our closeness earlier today. With that in mind, I walked upstairs to the ground floor.
Nicole was already downstairs, on the dinner table, accompanied by an unfamiliar young woman. “Hey, Nicole,” I said as I walked towards the dining table. “Would it be a bother if I got a bite with you guys.”
For a moment, no one spoke, and I used that to examine the girl that was accompanying Nicole. She was a young, either nineteen or twenty, with a lithe figure, and a thin, but beautiful face. However, only due to my experience working as a fashion photographer allowed me to see her beauty. Her make-up was nonexistent, and her hair was clean but not well-cared. She spoke before Nicole could utter a word, busy with blushing instead. “Hey, you must be our new tenant,” she said, a curious expression on her face as she carefully examined me.
“That’s correct,” I said with a slight nod. “My name is Stephen.”
“Katie,” she answered as she shook my hand.
“My pleasure,” I answered as I pulled a chair without bothering to wait for Nicole’s approval, because even a glance was enough to show she was in no state to answer, her abashment thick enough to seal her lips. She was lucky that Katie’s attention was fully on me, allowing Nicole’s condition to pass unnoticed. Nicole stood up wordless and walked towards the kitchen.
I considered going to the kitchen after her, curious about how she would react to be in the same room alone, but Katie acted faster. “So, Stephen, tell me a bit about yourself. Are you a serial killer?”
“Katie!” Nicole shouted from inside, her shyness forgotten for a moment.
“Sorry mom,” Katie answered with a laugh. “But it’s best to learn such things early.”
“My apologies Stephen,” Nicole said, still in the kitchen. “Unfortunately, Katie’s mouth lacks a control chip.”
“Mom! Don’t give up my secrets,” Katie said between giggles.
“No worries, Nicole, it’s not a bother,” I shouted before turning towards Katie. “There’s not much to tell about me,” I explained. “I just graduated from visual arts, and currently trying to set up my own studio.” I smiled wryly and continued with a whisper that I was sure Nicole wouldn’t be able to hear. “And unfortunately, I don’t show where the bodies are buried until the third date.”
A sudden blush invaded her face, showing me that for all of her blusterous manner, she was unused to flirting. My tenancy was getting more and more interesting. But before she could answer, Nicole stepped out of the kitchen, a plate in her hand.
“Thank you, Nicole,” I said, my mouth watering as the smell reached my nose. “That looks amazing.”
“It’s no bother,” Nicole said, her composure back in place other than a slight blush, one I only noticed because I had been looking for it.
“So, Stephen, tell me a bit about being a photographer. Is it exciting.”
“It is really amazing, especially when you have the creative freedom to reflect your imagination rather than taking stale old angles that your boss asks. Fortunately, I’m working for an unsophisticated client, which leaves me free to express my vision, however I see fit.”
A smile appeared on Katie’s face, one that tried to reflect confidence, but it was easy to see she was trying to put a front to hide her earlier abashment. “So, how it’s, working with all that beautiful models.”
“It varies,” I said in a neutral tone. “Most of the time, you don’t even register it, but sometimes, you work with some amazing talents that’s a true pleasure to work with.” I let my gaze slid to Nicole, meeting her eyes in a fleeting moment. “Let’s take my last model, for example. She was a true delight to work with. Smart, beautiful, obedient, and very sexy. I just wish that all of my models were as good as her.”
“Oh, she sounds impressive,” Katie said, not noticing Nicole’s face sliding towards a deep vermillion. “Anyway, could you tell me about some of the interesting things that happened during the shoots.”
With that, the discussion moved to some of the more interesting mishaps I had during my limited career in photography, while taking occasional bites from my meal. Then, suddenly, Katie checked her watch. “I need to finish and submit my homework,” she said in a panicked tone, and without waiting from an answer, dashed out of the table, leaving me alone with Nicole.
“It was a delicious meal,” I said, enjoying her expression as the control she managed to collect over her composure dispersed after we were left alone. “You’re an amazing cook as well as being an incredible model.”
It took several seconds for her to compose herself, something that aroused a different type of appetite in me. There was something incredibly alluring on seeing such a self-possessed and confident woman falling into pieces with just a few well-placed compliments. “Stephen…” she started, her tone reproachful, no doubt about to inform me about the inappropriateness of my comments.
It was a discussion I had no intention of having, so I simply changed the topic. “By the way, the company is very happy with the final pictures. They strongly insist that I establish a working relationship with my new model.”
“Really,” she asked in astonishment, her earlier reticence forgotten on the sideway.
“It’s not a topic that I would joke around. They are really enthusiastic about continuing to work with you.” Before I could continue, however, the doorbell rang.
“Let me get it,” she said and jumped from her seat, leaving me cursing whoever picked the time to disturb our conversation in such an inconvenient manner, providing her with the opportunity to gather her wits. I was confident that I could eventually convince her, by promising to increase her pay if all else fails, but it was not something I wanted to do. Not that it was a bother to pay a bit more was a chore, the latest raise had left me very well compensated, but the less we talked about the money, the better.
She came back to the room a few minutes later, carrying a large packet in her hands. “That came for you,” she said.
I lost all my negative feelings as soon as I saw the package. My self-appointed mission just got a lot easier. “How lucky, your next set of clothing is already here,” I said, conveniently ignoring the fact that she was yet to agree for anything.
I stood up before she could process my words. She reached towards me, her intention was to pass the package, but I grabbed her hand instead. “Come down, let's took a few test shots,” I said, even as I started walking towards the basement, with her in tow. I hadn't had to put any strength to my pull, she just trekked next to me. No comment, no resistance, silent even after we arrived at my makeshift studio.
“Why don’t you go and change for one of the swimsuits, so we can take a few test poses,” I said.
“Swimsuits,” she repeated, her voice sounding like she was being strangled.
“Yes, swimsuits,” I repeated, turning my gaze on her. “It’s not a problem, right?” It was obvious that it was, but she was having trouble talking about it. “Why don’t you open the package and check them behind the screen. We can always cancel them if you’re not feeling comfortable.” I had no intention of canceling, but the swimsuits were pretty conservative, so I doubted she would bail out. Not when doing so would sacrifice a considerable payout.
“Okay,” she murmured and walked behind the screen. I could hear her pulling the package open, followed by a low-key sound of fabric ruffling, signifying that she was changing her clothes. Meanwhile, I focused on setting up the set, waiting for her to step out.
Several minutes later, I was still waiting for her to step out, trying to hold myself from calling her out, knowing that it would be much easier in the long term that if she could defeat her shyness herself.
I turned towards the screen when I heard the screen shuffling, just in time to catch her stepping into the opening, struggling to abort the whistle of appreciation that forced my lips. I knew that her body was exquisite, as the last dress we shot was not exactly conservative, but seeing her in a swimsuit was differently alluring, even if the said swimsuit was a conservative one piece.
“Ready,” I asked, and received a nod in response. With that, I have ordered her into several simple poses, allowing her initial panic to drain under the rain of flashes. It was a delight, watching her doubt getting erased a bit more every time she bathed under the blink of light. Soon, after making sure that she was in the appropriate mood, I called her to stop.
“What happened? Did I do a mistake?” she asked with a panicked expression.
“No, Nicole. You were perfect,” I answered as I walked closer to her. “I just need to fix the back of the suit.” I was already behind her as the last words formed in my mouth, depriving her of the opportunity to do it herself. I brought my fingers where the suit met with her silken skin and dragged softly. A tremble passed through her skin, but she gave no other outward reaction about its effect. I did another pass, this time pushing the top of my finger inside the suit, dragging softly until my finger grazed the side of her breast.
I would have liked nothing more than to continue, sinking my fingers in her firm globes, but unfortunately, that was not viable for the time being. Instead, I returned to my camera and continued the shoot. “That’s good enough for a practice shot,” I said, concluding the night’s effort. “But everything was perfect. Will you be available if we do the next session nine in the morning?”
“It’s better if we do it after 11,” she countered. I raised my eyebrow in question, and the explanation followed a few seconds later. “Nancy’s writing group meets around noon, so she leaves the house at 11.”
I nodded approvingly, preferring to be alone in the house as well. It raised some really interesting possibilities.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
I was planning rest after Nicole left, but the sleep proved elusive, assisted by the dryness of my mouth. In another display of lack of forethought, I didn't have any water in the room, forcing me to leave my warm bed for a short trek to the kitchen.
I wasn't expecting to come across anyone that late, which was why it was surprising to see Nancy, whom I met only briefly in very interesting circumstances, was sitting in front of the TV, reaching towards the remote panickedly.
There was only one obvious reason for someone to change the channel in such an obvious display of panic when it was past midnight and they were the only person in the room. Her face, its redness obvious even with the flickering light of TV, was another clue to reinforce that conclusion. A smile tried to break out, but my efforts to suppress it had been nominally successful. “Good evening,” I said before walking towards the kitchen, giving her time to gather herself.
I returned to the living room after filling a large glass with water. She was still in front of the TV, and her face was still burning red. There was a black and white movie running on the screen, a poor attempt to convince me that she had been watching a classical movie all along.
I could have said nothing and leave her alone, but where was the fun in that. Instead, I stood in front of her, ready for a handshake. “We haven’t properly met yet. I’m Stephen,” I said.
“Nancy,” she answered, her voice cracking, not helped by being reminded our first meeting, where she was clad in her underwear.
“A pleasure to meet,” I said, and sat next to her without asking permission. “It seems like an interesting movie. What’s it about?”
“It is … a classic movie…” she said, trying to come up with something, but falling short of being convincing.
“How interesting…” I drawled before turning my attention to the screen, giving her a minute to collect herself. “So, what do you do?”
“I'm a writer,” she answered in a tone that was utterly familiar. I had several friends that introduced themselves in the same manner, shaky and without conviction. Their shared traits were their lack of success, no magazine print, no short story on the web with any traction… Nothing. And another shared trait they had, they all hated people asking whether they had anything published because it reminded them of their lack of success. The same question she expected, her shoulders fallen in shame.
“Interesting,” I answered instead. “A tough road for the newcomers. You must be very brave, able to take such a huge risk for your artistic vision.” and just like that, her face brightened like the sun. The statement was a total overreach, of course, it was hardly brave when you had the option to live with your parents, but I wasn't an idiot, so that detail got glossed over. Still, it explained why Nicole was desperate enough to get a tenant. It must be tough, trying to pay for your adult daughter as a widower. “Which genre are you writing in?”
“Mostly science fiction, but what I'm trying to do…” she said, launching an hour-long explanation into her project, with all of its nuances and details, even as I struggled to keep my mouth open, her earlier reticence long forgotten. Despite all my exhaustion, I didn't cut her off, instead of listening to her explanation with an appropriate level of feigned interest, welcoming the opportunity to build a rapport with her.
Her explanation stretched well after the movie ended, forcing me to cut her off. “That is really interesting,” I said, cutting her explanation about the difference between the sociological impact of hyperspace and wormholes, and consequent importance for her novel. “However, I need to catch some sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow.”
She looked disappointed until she checked the clock, realizing she was holding me hostage for the last one and half hours, and her expression switched with abashment. “I’m so sorry! Sometimes, I lose myself when explaining-” she continued, only to be cut once more.
“Honestly, it’s not a bother. I would have cut you off if I wasn’t interested in what you were telling. But we can continue the discussion another time.” I smirked. “It’s not like it’ll be hard to meet, right?”
“True,” she said, followed by a nervous laugh. “Anyway, have a good sleep.” She turned off the TV and walked upstairs. Unfortunately, she was wearing loose pajamas, so I was denied of another beautiful view.
Still, the first day at my new residence went much better than I had expected. I couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow would bring.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
I woke up to the sound of the alarm at ten, sharp. Going back to sleep was attractive, but I had one hour before the shoot, and if yesterday’s trial was any indicator, Nicole required a bit of convincing before donning the swimsuit. So, I took a shower, trying to ignore the fact that it was little more than a hole in the wall. Then, after spending a few minutes making sure everything was in place, including the surprise I had set up carefully, I walked to the upstairs.
Nicole was in the living room, sitting in front of the TV. Nancy was also there, trying to finish a bowl of cereal in hurry. It was almost eleven, which meant that she was already late. “Good morning,” I said.
Nicole answered with a greeting of her own, and Nancy just waved, not stopping her eating. “Don’t be rude, Nancy,” Nicole said, her tone more exasperated than angry, showing it wasn’t the first time they had an argument in that topic.
“Sorry Stephen, but I’m about to be late,” she said before returning to her breakfast, stuffing one last scoop into her mouth. Then, she stood up as she chewed, waved to Nicole, and dashed to the door.
Nicole looked at where Nancy just disappeared, looking like was about to complain, so I cut her off. I didn’t want her to work herself over Nancy’s attitude. An aggressive mood run contrary to my objectives. I wanted her soft and pliable. “Are you ready for the shoot?” I asked.
“Now?” she said, her expression getting a panicked tone.
“I prefer to start as soon as possible,” I answered. I wanted to start before she had time to get used to the idea. More panicked she felt, easier for me to direct her thoughts. I started walking towards the basement, only to stop and turn against her after a few steps. “Come on, what are you waiting for. An invitation?” I added. It wasn’t the nicest statements, but the occasional sting was necessary to remind her that disobedience was not welcome.
She said nothing, just followed me a step behind until we were in the basement once more. “Your costumes are already behind the screen,” I said. “Why don’t you go and change the one piece you have tried yesterday. It would work better with the one you’re already familiar with.”
She just nodded before following my direction and stepped behind the screen. I was tempted to walk nearer it, trying to catch a flash of skin, wanting to see her devoid of any clothes, but I held myself back. In the current situation, it was a pointless risk, for a reward I would get after a few days nevertheless.
Still, it was a struggle to prevent myself from catcalling as Nicole stepped behind the screen, mouth-wateringly alluring. Instead, I watched her behind the camera. “Let’s start with a few simple poses…” I said, directing her through several dozens of poses, but none of them really revealing. Just like the last time, I wanted her to get used to receiving orders.
First three sets passed in a normalcy that belied my objective, but that was intentional. Not only we moved out boring clothes out of the way -two one-pieces, and one bikini that almost covered as much- it allowed her to follow my commands quickly.
Then, she stepped outside the screen’s cover, wearing a burnt orange bikini, looking delicious. It wasn’t something that would be called risque on the seaside, but away from the water, under the spotlights, it had a different allure.
First, I focused on the technical photos, taking enough photos to cover the requirements of the client. Then, I lowered the camera and looked straight to her face. “It’s not working,” I murmured.
“Why?” she asked, panicked. “Am I doing something wrong?”
I walked towards her. “It’s the top, it’s too loose, damaging the mood I’m trying to reflect.”
“Should I tighten-” she started, but I was already behind her.
“Stay still,” I said, as my fingers found the strings that kept the swimsuit together, and without a warning, pulled. A panicked yelp escaped her mouth as the top slid off, treating me with a flash of her breasts. I would’ve preferred to let it slide, leaving her breasts bare for my gaze, but unfortunately, I wasn’t in a point I could do that without ensuring an explosion. Instead, I pulled the strings and tied the top much tighter than it previously was.
She tried to say something, but I cut her off. “Let’s continue,” I said, and snapped a picture from point-blank range, destroying her argument before it started. I let it flow naturally until she got into the flow once again, cycling through poses, following my directions.
“Loosen the top once more,” I ordered. She blushed, but said nothing as she turned back, one hand reaching for the string, the other keeping her top in place. She untied it once more, but my voice rang once more before she could fasten it. “Perfect, leave it like that,” I ordered.
Her head turned to me in shock, a perfect expression I immortalized with a click of my camera. “Amazing, now give me a smile.”
“But-” she tried to argue, but it wilted under the tapping of my foot. She struggled to put a smile on her face. It wasn’t convincing at first, but under the rapid blink of the flashes, her concerns eroded soon after, leaving her with a flickering smile on her face. I was tempted to throw down the camera and walk towards her, pulling off her bikini, tasting her until the hunger inside my quenched. But I held back.
“That’s enough for this one,” I called off a few minutes later, happy to catch a glint of disappointment in her gaze. “But, as usual, you were amazing. Why don’t you change into the last one, so we can wrap it off.”
“But that’s the last one,” she said in confusion.
“No, they said that they had four sets. Why don’t you check the bag once again? Maybe you missed them at the folds of the package or something. They are not always very careful when packing the clothes.”
“Maybe,” she murmured before walking towards the changing section, her arm still around her chest, trying to keep her top in place. She disappeared behind the screen, followed by the sound of ruffling. “You’re right, apparently I missed it,” she said, only to cut by a sharp intake of breath. “I can’t wear this!” she exclaimed.
“Why, what happened?” I asked, despite perfectly knowing the reason for her protest.
“That’s too revealing,” she said with a pleading tone.
“Come on, Nicole. We already completed most of the shoot, don’t bail on me now,” I answered, trying to plead with her instead of ordering. I had no doubt that I could force her out with a strict comment, it didn’t fit my objective. I wanted her to step out of there in her free will. Muddied by my manipulations, of course, but her free will nevertheless.
“It’s indecent,” she murmured.
“Okay,” I murmured in a fake defeat. “I won’t force you if that’s what you want, but unfortunately, we have to cancel the shot if we don’t have the last set as well, which means no pay for both of us.” That was a total bullshit, as the client’s request was already complete, and the fourth costume was my own addition.
“We have to cancel all of it?” she asked, alarmed.
“Unfortunately, yes. I had already informed the client that you reviewed and okay with all of the costumes, so they won’t agree to change it at the last minute. It would be economically damaging for both of us, but still, I don’t want to push you into something you’re not willing.”
A minute passed in silence before she spoke once more. “It’s not possible to identify me in the pictures, right?” she asked with a soft murmur, barely above a whisper.
“I promise that no one other than me would know you are the model of those pictures.” It was doubly true since I was taking them for my personal collection. I received no answer, but that did nothing to remove the smirk on my face. I could hear her changing once more. I occupied myself with changing the battery of the camera, wanting to be ready for the next step.
I was struck with the strongest urge to whistle in appreciation as she stepped out in the open, clad in a string bikini that was little more than three tiny triangles, connected together with dental floss. Her arms were around her body in a struggle to keep it hidden, one trying to hide her perfectly shaped globes. A difficult struggle, but nothing compared to the impossibility of the task of her other hand, trying to obscure the amazing expanse of her hips.
I said nothing as she skittled towards the set, finding it amusing than annoying. After all, she was going to be forced to pose in any pose I could imagine in a minute, so the only thing she achieved was to make herself more desirable.
“Ready?” asked. She nodded shakily, but her expression shouted no. Something I steadfastly ignored, of course. What was the point of pushing her into the sea of insecurity if I was going to pull her out in the first cry of help? I looked at her arms as I patted my foot on the ground in a display of impatience. Her blush intensified even through the make-up, but the important thing was her arm, falling to the side, leaving me to observe her body without any barrier.
I leaned forward in a poor attempt to hide my raging boner. Luckily, she was not in a state to pay attention, occupied by the realization of just how much skin she was displaying. “Relax,” I said. “There is no reason for you to feel self-conscious. You’re beautiful.” The compliments worked, and her skittishness subsided. “Okay, take a simple pose, like you are walking, hands flowing…”
With that, a repeat of the earlier moments started, but with a very interesting caveat. Her panic disappeared after just a few shots, and she started following the simple poses with little protest. I licked my lips in a failed attempt to combat the dryness, but my excitement was the victor.
I pulled the camera from the tripod and walked closer, wanting to immortalize the scene from a closer perspective. She raised no protest as I filled my memory card with the close-ups of her poorly covered, glistening skin.
I walked behind her, the flash exploding on her bottom repeatedly. “Turn towards me, fast enough to swing your hair,” I ordered, acutely aware of the frailty of her current clothing. A fact she was liable to forget in the heat of the moment.
She turned, her hair flailing freely as she intended. However, her beautiful globes, replicated the movement against her intention, straining her top to the limit. They failed to break out of their prison, much to my disappointment. But it wasn’t completely useless, their wild dash towards freedom managed to move them a bit, a part of her pink areolas on display. I snapped two quick photos, then ordered her to stop.
She stopped, not realizing the issue. I reached towards her top, and her eyes fell down, tracing my movement. Her mouth fell open as soon as her eyes made contact with her breasts, revealing just how much she was revealing unwittingly. She tried to raise her arms. “Stop,” I ordered, arresting her movement.
I hooked my finger underneath the fabric that was responsible for hiding her breast from wandering eyes, poor in their job, and pulled it a bit, catching a glimpse of her nipple before fixing it to its earlier state.
She whimpered. It was a soft, needy, and most importantly, a familiar sound. Many times, I had heard my old girlfriends making the same sound whenever I stretched the foreplay, deliberately keeping them on the edge. But none of them, I was able to bring to that point with a few fleeting touches. I wondered the purity of ecstasy she would experience when I finally pushed her down, slamming inside her repeatedly. Alas, it was something I had to wait a bit to test.
Instead, I pulled back and continued the shoot. I was tempted to ask her to remove her top, but I held back because of two reasons. First, I already pushed her a lot and didn’t want to push her above her tolerance, ruining all the progress I had made. Second, I didn’t trust myself to keep control, a difficult task against the mature goddess in front of me.
“And, that was the last one,” I said after pressing to the shutter one last time. “Once again, it had been an amazing session, Nicole. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, her earlier confidence evaporating as soon as the session was over.
She started walking towards the dressing section, but I cut her off. “Aren’t you forgetting something,” I asked, opening my arms in preparation.
She looked at me, the twitching of her arms displaying her nervousness about her state of dress. It was clear that she was trying to come up with a way to reject it without coming across as rude, or hoping that I would take pity and let her go.
Seconds passed in silence, and she failed in both accounts. She walked to me, her assets jiggling attractively with each step. She stood in front of me, and I enveloped her between my arms. It wasn’t a soft, safe hug that I enveloped her in. I held her close, her barely covered tits squashing against my chest, tight enough that I could feel her out of control heartbeat.
I placed my finger on her spine, just below the strings of her top. She stiffened. Then, I dragged it down softly, in a twisted facsimile of a caress, replacing her stiffness with a shiver. I pulled my hand after exploring the small of her back, pulling just before reaching her generous booty. It wasn’t something I was happy about, of course, I would have preferred to sank my fingers in her naked flesh until she was moaning in pleasure, but the situation hadn’t yet evolved enough to allow it.
“You’re an amazing, talented, and beautiful model,” I whispered into her ear before pulling back, happy to see a smile breaking out in her face, despite the brightness of her blush, so red that I was surprised she managed not to faint. “Why don’t you go to your room and rest a bit, you deserved after this challenging session.”
“Good idea,” she murmured, half-drunk, before turning and climbing the stairs, forgetting her earlier decision to change back before going up. Not that I was unhappy, of course. It was a delight watching her climb the stairs in her non-existent bottom, her almost naked bottom rippling in each step.
After the next shoot, she was going to be mine, I decided.
Comments
KingConner
Thx 4 Chapter!
