Chapter 3

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.

Several hours passed as I went over through the spoils of the latest session, with satisfactory results for the client. And more importantly, for me, I added as I examined the pictures, blown up for maximum effect, revealing my landlady's delicious skin under the insufficient cover of the string bikini I had tricked her to wear. It was simply marvelous.

I could spend hours examining those pictures, but unfortunately, I had other things to do, such as food shopping. I quickly changed, my body stiff after sitting for hours in front of the computer, on an uncomfortable chair. I needed to but a decent chair, I murmured as I climbed the stairs.

I wasn't planning to dally around the house unless Nicole was around, but the view I met at the entrance changed my mind. Katie was alone, sitting on the kitchen table, looking stressed. The shopping wasn't as critical building up a rapport with her, I decided, walking towards her. "Hey, Katie," I said, trying to sound concerned. "Are you okay?"

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed my presence until I spoke. A jolt of panic passed over her face, her head turning towards me with an abject expression of panic, one that melt after she got a good look of my face. "You scared me," she murmured, her breathing still quick as she tried to reign her adrenaline.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you would be troubled enough to ignore my approach. I'm not easy to miss, after all."

A chuckle escaped her mouth. "You certainly aren't," she said.

"So, are you going to tell me the reason you seem lost?" I added.

"It's nothing," she murmured, trying to brush it off. With her sad expression and her wistful tone, the statement was hardly convincing.

"It's obvious that it's not the case. Why don't you tell me? Maybe I can help," I answered as I sat on the table, looking down on her. People usually missed the importance of relative positioning, but perching over someone gave a position of dominance that was hard to ignore. It wasn't an absolute advantage, of course, but when supported by appropriate mannerism, it worked perfectly, especially against a young and impressionable woman like her.

She continued to look closed until I leaned forward a bit more, brushing my fingers gently on her shoulder. That proved to be the key that unlocked her concerns. "I did something really stupid," she wailed.

A nineteen-years-old woman doing something stupid, truly a disaster that hadn't seen before. Unfortunately, needling her would be counterproductive, so I went with the kinder option. "Come on, I'm sure it's not as bad as it sounds."

"I told Madison that I have a boyfriend!" she said, an expression of total despair, but the reason of it avoided me completely.

"And this is bad, because…" I trailed.

"It's horrible, because I don't have a boyfriend, and she invited me to a group date!"

"It seems that I'm missing some subtext, why don't you calm down and explain it from scratch. Who is this Madison, and why do you care about her enough to panic."

"She is the lead cheerleader of the school. We used to be best friends, but then she got in the cheerleading team, and we drifted apart. However, today she was talking about how I wasn't ever going to have a boyfriend because I was a nerd, something snapped in me and I said I already have a boyfriend. But she knows I'm lying, so she invited me to a group date." Another wail escaped her mouth. "I'm going to be humiliated."

"That was it?" I said. She turned towards me in a display of wholehearted anger only a young woman who thought her valid suffering being trivialized could summon. I raised my hand in surrender. "Sorry, it's just that the solution is very simple. Why don't I just play your boyfriend."