Chapter 6

“Arty, I know I have a great body, with so many people telling me, and I guess it’s only natural that you guys get excited. But the way you kissed me, was, I don’t know ... I was startled and didn’t know what to do ... I mean. I’ve never been with a man who’s kissed me like that before. I won’t take offence and thank you for your apology, and I hope this doesn’t spoil my chance of becoming a model, and I wanted to tell you, that I don’t want to do porn. Is that why you were taking so many lewd shots of me?”

“Thank you, Caitlyn, and again, I’m so very sorry. Please believe me. I will not let this happen again. But let me explain something about becoming a model and making big money.’

“To make big money, you need to get into advertising, and you can earn between three and ten grand per day. Depending on the shoot. So the advertising companies want to know what they are getting and how far a model will go because I’m not just talking about advertising in Australia. You will be open to the world, and these guys, well, I think they drool over a teen or young woman and want to see the merchandise. But I don’t do porn, either. I do erotic art, as you’ve seen.’

“Those erotic pictures are at the request of couples or men with more wealth than they know what to do with, men who live in the Middle East. They pay a fortune for what you see on the wall. Oh, the guy with the big cock that you were drooling over. Well, that was the couple’s first anniversary present to each other. It cost them a lot, too.’

“I’ll let you know in a couple of weeks when your portfolio is ready so you can browse through the photos. The quick little shoot we did yesterday, you will have access to in a couple of days.”

A few days later, I received an email from Arty. It gave me codes and passwords to navigate his website to my private page. I eagerly got through and looked at the pic where I was lying down as he took shots from behind me. What a sneaky bastard with the way he positioned my legs. My crotch with a camel toe was clearly on display, along with my great-looking arse. But the shots looked fantastic. I can’t wait to see how good I look in my portfolio.

Two weeks later, my portfolio was ready, and what a job Arty had done, plus Sally and Liz, on how they made me look. I’m sure I will knock the socks off any advertising executive who sees me. I was confident I would soon hit the big time.

Time passed, and nothing and my hopes of becoming a model faded. I felt down, and it didn’t help when Ruth kept asking me if I had scored a gig. The answer was always the same: “No.” I kept thinking about the thousand dollars I owed Arty. And how I would pay him back, even if he hadn’t called to see how I was. Life’s tough, I thought.

A few more weeks went by. And I had given up all hope of becoming a model. My phone rang, and I could see it was Arty. “Arty, hi, or hello. Oh, Arty, I’m so glad you called.” I was so excited about the call. I was tongue-tied, and my greeting sounded like muddled garbage.