Chapter 1

Bob Clark, the photographer that I was apprenticed to, discovered Megan at a mall that was having what they called a “Catwalk Day,” where girls and women could be interviewed for modeling jobs and sign up for modeling classes. The classes were a scam, because almost nobody who ever gave up a few thousand dollars and graduated actually got hired for any modeling jobs. Sometimes, however, a girl or woman with the right look could be found at these things. Then comes the art to getting her on board for whatever you want her to do. If that works, and she’s happy, then you can sometimes get her to do more and more until she starts making you some real money.

Megan, as it turned out, wasn’t even there for the modeling stuff. She had just gone to the mall to get a new bra. When Bob stopped her and asked her if he could talk to her there were tons of people around, so she paused and listened. He told her he was looking for models and thought that she would do well. At first I wasn’t so sure, because she was shy and had zero experience. But Bob has a knack for picking hot women and Megan was hot in spades.

I had worked for Bob for about a year. I didn’t get paid much but it was steady work because he usually had a full schedule to shoot, either still photos, which he did, or video, which I did and he directed. It was valuable experience and I had learned a lot. One of the things I learned was that good photos (or video) aren’t worth much without the proper marketing and that’s where Bob shone. He was a marketing genius. He could figure out how to sell the same photo to five different companies to use in five different ways. With video he had a contact list of thousands of web sites, E-zines, and other places where video could be sold or, even better, streamed for royalties.

Bob did all kinds of work, but his bread and butter was porn. What helped him were two things. He had a good reputation and would give any new model the numbers of four or five women who he’d worked with in the past. Of course he chose the women who everything had gone well with, but there were a ton of them. The other thing was that Bob was what most women considered a ‘hunk’. He was tall, with broad shoulders, bulging arms, and a trim waist. He went to the gym every morning. He had black hair in a business cut, except that his stylist crafted one of those forelocks like Superman has. Women loved him and while he teased a lot of them, it was just to get that look he wanted on their faces. He didn’t fuck around with most of his models. That’s part of what makes this story interesting.

The first time I met Megan was on her first shoot in Bob’s studio. Bob had lined up ten potential women to have on file so he could use the head shots to sell them to clients. I was there to help him all day as he posed, talked to, and cajoled sultry looks out of mostly amateur wannabe models. They say you have to be taught how to be a model, and that’s true, but it doesn’t take a fancy, expensive school to do it. Any good photographer can explain what he’s trying to do and how the model can help him do it. It’s a little more complicated than that, but, basically, if you turn your nose up at amateurs, you’re throwing money away.

Megan was the last shoot of the day. She arrived on time and we were introduced. “Wow! What a babe!” I thought. She had shoulder length blond hair. It was a little on the darker side of blond and was very pretty. Her face was a perfect match for her hair. But what made her gorgeous was an indefinable quality that only a few women have. She had a cute sexy smile and blue eyes that you could get lost in. She looked pure as the driven snow, but like a leashed wildcat at the same time. She just looked fresh and I wished I could spend hours with her. I couldn’t guess at her age, but she was definitely youthful looking. A nice diamond sparkled on the ring finger of her left hand, snuggled next to a wedding band.

“Thanks for coming,” said Bob. He introduced me as the videographer who would assist him, if needed.

“Mister Clark, I’m very nervous,” Megan replied, a little breathily.

“Call me Bob,” he said, with a grin, turning on the charm. “You’ll do fine. All you have to do is let me take pictures of you. It’s like falling off a log.”

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said. She sounded worried.

Bob patted her shoulder and said, “Please relax, Megan, this will be fun.”

Standing next to Bob, Megan looked tiny. She was probably six inches above five feet, without shoes on. Put some heels on her and she’d be up to five ten or so. Put some ‘fuck me spikes’ on her and she could stand next to Bob and not look like a little girl. Well, to be honest, it would be hard for her to look like a little girl under almost any circumstances. She had a spectacular figure. It was showed off perfectly by her snug, worn (but not torn) jeans, above which was a plain white blouse that was tucked into the top of the jeans. In the front, the cloth of her blouse, where her belt was, went up and out at a 45 degree angle to the tips of her breasts and then at a less steep angle to her neck. I could see the lace pattern on her bra through the shirt, but only faintly. She had a look that five different men could interpret five different ways. She looked like she had class. She looked like a (young) soccer mom. She looked like she’d just wear you fucking out in bed. She looked like she could be on her way to a PTA meeting. She even looked like she might be a CEO or a thousand-dollar-a-night call girl who was out slumming around with the little people. Clearly, she had class.

I eyed her with semi-professional interest and saw that her breasts were too big for her small slender frame, in terms of classical modeling. I estimated them to be every bit of 36 inches and, based on my experience, it would take bras with C cups to hold them. She was too short, anyway. She could do commercials, except nobody would look at the product. She was wearing low heels suitable for a long day of shopping. All in all, Megan was a drop dead gorgeous woman with the manner of a young housewife. I would later learn that she and her husband were trying to have their first child. More correctly, Megan was trying to have her first child, but her husband was too busy with his business to really work at it.

His first shots were of just her face, taken from different angles and in different lighting. No makeup, other than what she’d worn in, was used. Once he had the head shots, he backed up and got her body from all directions. Again, the clothing she had worn in was fine for this kind of thing. She looked stiff and he paused.

“You look uncomfortable,” he said.

Megan exhaled nervously and said, “I’m not sure what to do. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Bob smiled and said, “For now, just be yourself. You’re a gorgeous woman and I think you have what it takes to sell some photos. If you didn’t I wouldn’t have asked you to model for me. Please, just relax and think of us as friends who got together and are taking some pictures. Smile for me.” She did and he grinned. “That’s what I’m looking for. Your smile lights up the room.”

He knew how to schmooze with both clients and the models. He understood women and knew how to push their buttons. Half an hour later she had relaxed and was having fun as he put her in different “action” poses, where it looked like she was moving. He turned on a fan to get some hair shots. One of her over-the-shoulder shots made me stiff in my pants. There was a natural ‘come hither’ look on her face that was just phenomenal.

He stopped after filling up a card and said, “Now let’s get you into a nice evening gown. You’re a size four, correct?”

Megan nodded but looked a little confused until Bob pointed to the changing room and said, “The changing room is right over there and there’s a size 4 dress on the rack. It’s a forest green gown. You should find the matching shoes as well. If it doesn’t fit, there are larger sizes to the right of the green one.”

She disappeared into the changing room.

Ten minutes later Megan reappeared in the gown. I had seen it before, on other women, but Megan put them to shame. It came to her calves and flowed loosely around her legs. The matching shoes had very high heels, six inches I’d guess. Megan appeared to wobble a bit with the height but she still had a lot of poise and looked amazing. Bob pulled down a different backdrop, of a fancy theater lobby, and had her stand where he wanted her. He talked her through a number of poses and she loosened up even more. Her smile was genuine, now, and it made my stomach hurt a little. That smile was for the camera and I wanted it to be for me. She had been there an hour when I sensed what Bob had already seen. She had a natural talent for showing her body off and, man, was she sexy.

When the card in his camera was full Bob stopped and said, “Let’s take a break. How about something to drink? I’ve got some wine. It’s not the good stuff, but it will wet your whistle.”

Megan flashed that great smile and said, “That would be great.” She added, “Just one glass, though. I’m driving. So ... how am I doing?”

Bob answered quickly, “You’re doing fantastic. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

That was when I knew Bob wanted her in his stable. Of course she knew whether she’d “done this before” or not. He had moved from just exploring her with the camera to pushing her buttons; baiting the hook, as it were, to manipulate her. And, since she had never done this before ... she bit.

Megan face showed excitement as she answered, “No. Never.”

“Come over here and you can take a look for yourself,” he said.

I poured them each a glass of wine (a big one for her) and one for myself. Bob downloaded the two cards onto the hard drive of his PC and started cycling through them, with Megan looking over his shoulder.

She’d seen pictures of herself in the past, before. Everybody has. But most people haven’t seen themselves in a photograph that’s been enhanced by various photography tricks. As long as you don’t have serious body issues, you’ll like what a good photographer produces.

“That’s amazing,” she said. “Some of those are really good!”

“I told you, you’re a natural,” said Bob. “I’m really glad I found you.”

After he closed the window Megan tipped her wine glass up and killed it. She looked at Bob.

“What’s next?”

Bob said, “As sexy as you are in that gown, I’ve got a dress that I know you’d really be hot in, if you’re game?”

“Game?” Her alto voice strummed something deep inside me.

“It’s sexy,” said Bob. “The green gown was elegant and sexy. I’ll be honest with you. The dress I have in mind is more ‘fuck me’ sexy.”

Megan nodded tentatively and asked, “Can I see it first?”

“Of course,” he replied.

He went to the changing room and returned after a few moments with a black mini-dress of simple design on a hanger. Its main features were a very short skirt length and a low cut neckline with a halter style strap. I don’t know what it was made of, but it looked like it was stretchy and would cling to her like a second skin.

Megan looked at it and shook her head. She said, “I don’t know. I’ve never worn anything like that. I can’t imagine what my husband Roger would think if he saw me in that dress.”

Bob said, “I’m sure he’d be impressed. Does he know you’re here?”

Megan replied, “No. I didn’t tell him I was coming. He thinks a wife’s place is in the home, not working or doing things like this.”

Bob smiled at the modest woman and said, “Why don’t you just try it on. Check yourself out in the mirror and if you feel comfortable then come out and we’ll take some shots. If you’re uneasy about the dress then we can stop.”

Megan frowned at the word ‘stop’. She was clearly enjoying the shoot.

“Okay,” she said. Her face showed determination as she took the dress and headed for the changing room.

Another ten minutes later Megan was standing in front of Bob and his camera. I don’t know if the wine loosened her up, or if she just decided she liked looking sexy for two appreciative men, but she looked scorching hot in the tight mini-dress and six inch black heels. The dress hugged her curves and really showed off her perfect ass. Since the dress had no back she had removed her bra and her nipples made two serious dents in the fabric. The impression was she was turned on. Megan’s blond hair looked wonderful in contrast to the black dress. As Bob took pictures she swayed and posed like an experienced model. Her face took on more sultry and sexy expressions. She obviously was feeling very comfortable in the outrageously sexy mini-dress. Bob asked Megan to turn around as he took shots of her profile and backside. Those firm breasts of hers looked large above her tiny waist. I was amazed at the transformation Megan had made. She was definitely enjoying herself.

Bob encouraged and directed Megan through two more cards. Finally, he said, “Let’s take another break. You’re doing great, you know?”

Megan thanked Bob and flashed him that killer smile. That smile coming from Megan in that sexy dress caused my groin to tighten up. I suspected that she was having the same effect on Bob.

I refilled their wine glasses and they sipped and chatted for a time. Bob asked Megan, “Are you having fun?”

She replied cheerfully, “Oh yes. I never thought that modeling would be so much fun.”

Bob continued, “What do you think of that dress?”

Megan blushed and said, “At first I wasn’t sure about wearing something so revealing, but now I’ve actually grown to like it. I feel sexy in this dress.”

There are women who really like sex and enjoy looking and feeling sexy. Many of the women you see in centerfold shots are that kind of woman. They’re not sluts, and nobody is abusing them. They just like sex and it doesn’t necessarily have to be restricted to only one man. Then you have women who protest and shout that the women in the centerfolds are being abused, victimized and traumatized. They believe the porn industry, both soft and hard, creates victims. Of course that’s true, but any industry can create a victim. What’s important for the purposes of this story is to understand that there are women who enjoy having men leer at them.

Bob didn’t miss an opening like that, “You look sexy as hell, Megan.”

Megan dropped her head in modesty.

Bob reached out to lift her chin with two fingers and smiled at her bashfulness. He had touched her before this, but only to move her into the position he wanted, or to alter an angle. This was the first intimate kind of touch he’d used. He said, “You better get used to the compliments. You’ll be hearing a lot of them if you continue to model.”

Megan’s eyes lit up with excitement, “You mean you think I can make a career out of modeling?”

Bob nodded but then frowned. “I was honest with you about the dress and I’ll always be honest with you. Right now I’ll be honest with you and tell you it depends on the type of modeling you want to do. Becoming a fashion model is very difficult and unfortunately you’re a little too short to do that type of work. Your breasts are also too big for that world. But, there are other types of modeling you’d be perfect for, if you are willing to go that way.”

Megan said, “I thought you wanted me for fashion modeling. That’s what we’ve been doing, right?”

Bob nodded and continued, “The first shots were my way of introducing you to the camera and the process. A big part of modeling, especially for beginners, is believing you are beautiful. Most women see their flaws, rather than their beauty. If you take a picture of one of them it’s just a portrait. If a woman truly believes she’s beautiful, and sexy, then it brings her alive in front of the camera. That beauty and sexiness is then easy to see. I took those pictures to show you just how beautiful and sexy you are and you saw it yourself. That’s why you looked so good in the dress you’re wearing. The fashion industry is incredibly stupid to ignore women like you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make a lot of money modeling. This isn’t what you came here for, but when I saw you in that mini-dress I knew you had a future in lingerie modeling or nude modeling.”

Megan’s mouth popped open at Bob’s words. Trembling, she said, “I could never do nude modeling. My husband wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t understand what I’ve already done!”

Bob put up a hand to slow things down. “Nobody’s pushing you to do anything, here. You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to. I’m just telling you what I think. I simply feel that you would do very well in that area of modeling. As for your husband, if he’s like most men, he’d probably get off on knowing that, while other men can salivate over your photographs, he’s the one you’re sleeping with. I have a lot of models whose husbands love that other men think their wives are sexy.”

Megan shook her head and said, “I don’t think Roger would be like that. He finds fault with most of what I do.”

Bob said, “You know, you could make a heck of a lot more than what I’m paying you for this shoot.”

Megan seemed to ponder this.

“Really?” She appeared to be softening.

“Basically, the more you take off the more you get paid. The sexier you look, the more you get paid. I’m quite sure you have what it takes to make three or four thousand a month to start. If you like it, and maintain your figure, you can make that kind of money for the next eight or nine years.”

Megan looked at Bob with a sly little smile and said, “That much? What would I have to do?”

Bob replied, “We’ll dress you in lingerie and have you slowly take it off. With that wholesome face of yours, cute smile and sexy body, I know you’d melt the camera.”

A little giggle escaped from Megan.

“Let’s just do a few test shots and you can look at them and see how you feel,” said Bob. “For this we’ll have both still shots and video.”

Bob really knew how to charm the ladies. Tammy, our makeup artist, wasn’t there, because this kind of shoot hadn’t been planned. Bob was just going for it. If she looked good and then decided she didn’t want to do this kind of modeling, he’d have something in the can to recoup his costs. If she looked good (and I knew she would) and did like it, then we had a bright future ahead of us. So Bob applied some muted makeup to her face, and a little to her upper chest, where there was a shine he noticed. In no time he had her back in front of the camera in a sheer black bra and panty set, black stockings, and a garter belt. She wore the same black heels as before and a pearl necklace. Megan’s face showed embarrassment, but her skin tone and that dark golden hair looked fabulous against the black of what she was wearing. She looked hot. Bob placed her on a love seat in front of a Victorian parlor backdrop and was taking more still shots of her.

I was manning a video camera. Its purpose was twofold. First, lingerie videos commanded a high price. If Megan looked good on the shoot the video could be sold. The second reason was that Bob liked to have a record of the shoot. When nudity, either partial or full, was involved, a video of exactly what happened would solve disputes (as in payment for services rendered) and in case the model claimed she was forced to do something or molested. One or two models had tried to burn Bob. They had lost because he had a video of them that showed they were lying.

Bob directed Megan to move about on the love seat giving us different views of her body. The panties were a G-string and showed her bare ass completely. Sitting, leaning back, with a wine glass in one hand and her legs crossed, she looked like a beautiful woman waiting for her lover to arrive. Her embarrassment was gone, now, whether because of the wine or because she just liked feeling like she did. She was moving like a cat, with an alluring look on her face. Megan may have been a novice at modeling but I could tell that she knew how to get a man interested in her. She seemed to be quickly mastering the art of selling herself.

“I love the way you’re moving,” said Bob as he clicked away. “You look hot.”

A minute later he paused, looking over the top of the camera.

“Take your bra off, now. Do it slowly. Let it slide off your body as if it wants to remain. The idea is that you’re showing your breasts, but are hesitant, but then decide to do it. Can you do that?”