Chapter 1

He looked like thousands of others among the lunchtime crowd. Fortyish, perhaps, with a receding hairline partly concealed by a long fringe. He wore suit trousers and shirtsleeves. Just an anonymous office worker hurrying to the bank during his lunch hour.

Shelly sat on one of the seats by the ornamental fountain nursing her 'bump.' Her legs started to tire these days and she needed to rest. She liked watching the bustle of activity around her. She liked being ignored among the crowd. It was good not to be constantly fielding questions like, 'when is it due?' 'Do you know if it's a boy or girl?' 'Have you picked out a name?' Then the birth stories and how hard 'Roger' or 'Dan' or 'Priscilla' was. '26 hours in labour without an epidural.' Shelly didn't want to know.

"Your first?" came a male voice beside her. This was different. Men usually said nothing to her while their female partners quizzed her. She thought that, to men, pregnancy was evidence of sex and sex was a touchy subject to raise with a strange woman. In addition, she was now sullied goods. She was no longer a 'hot babe' to be chatted up. Some other guy had clearly staked a claim.

"Yes," she replied. Her voice was high and nervous, it annoyed her.

"What, a month to go? Three weeks?" he asked.

'Well, at least he could tell.' "Four," she told him.

"Ah!" he smiled and sat down next to her.

She felt irritated. 'What made him think she wanted company? There were plenty of other empty seats in the square.'

"My wife and I have three," he continued. She said nothing, hoping he'd take the hint and move off. "Barnaby's three, now... goes to Kindy... time flies..."

Shelly nodded and smiled, then looked away silently. 'This guy had to have an angle. Where was he coming from, ' she wondered?

"... Changes your life..." he went on, "when Stevie was born we were broke. Don't know how we kept it together. Kids are expensive," he tutted.

"Yes!" she croaked a reply. The stranger reminded her of her own situation. Shelly didn't know how she was going to cope. An apartment for herself and the baby? It was just a pipe dream. Even with the State benefit, she'd have little left after food, power and rent for herself to build any future. It was something that had obsessed her for the last 8 months and she was no closer to an answer.

"So how are you fixed, financially?" he asked her.

'What the Hell business was it of his?' she thought. Instead, she found herself answering honestly, as if this guy was going to suggest something. There was something in the stranger's approach that indicated he might have job offer. 'Probably an Amway guy, ' she mused, 'or some other direct marketing scheme that she could do from home that offered much and delivered little.' "Bad!" she shrugged.

"Yeah, it's tough," he agreed a little insincerely, she thought. "Listen, I may be able to help a little, if you're interested."

'Ok, here comes the pitch, ' she smiled inwardly.

"Here's my card," the stranger continued, "I run a talent agency."

"You do?" she asked in surprise. 'This was different. What would a talent agency want with a girl 8 month's pregnant?'

"Yeah! We're looking for some pregnant girls for a modelling job," he explained, "clothes... preggy gear... that sort of thing. Catelogue layout for a chain store. If you're interested give me a call and we might be able to jack something up for you."

"Thanks," she told him as he got up. A pinprick of light seemed to penetrate her dark horizon. Photographic modelling! That was something she could do without a University qualification. "How much?" she called to his retreating back.

"Eh? Oh yes, money. Hmmm... not sure what they're paying. Probably 3 or 400 for the day, but don't quote me on that. I'll need to check."

"Thanks, again" she told him. 400 bucks was serious money to Shelly, she couldn't help but smile.

'Ben Sargeson, ' she read later, 'Talent and Modelling Agency.' There was just a Mobile number underneath 'Manager.' The business card didn't look particularly fancy so she checked through the Yellow pages. Yes, the Company was listed, it seemed legit.

If she was going to call, she needed to do it before her Mother got home from her job as a Supermarket Supervisor. Shelly knew what she would say. 'Look what you've been brought down to, ' she imagined her voice, 'a photographic model!' Shelly could picture the frown on her face, the scorn in her tone. Nothing was going to be 'suitable' employment.

Her Mother had got her a job as a checkout girl, but the wages were shit and she found standing for long periods increasingly tiring.

As she dialled the number, butterflies circulated inside her tummy. These were different than those she felt when junior maneuvred into a new position inside her womb.

"Ben?" came the voice on the phone. Shelly explained who she was and he answered, "oh yeah, that's right. So you're interested, right? You'll need to come in and look over the contract, say 2 tomorrow? I'll need to take a few shots of you for the files. Have you done any modelling before?"

"No."

"Ok, well there's a few things you'll need to know. I'll take you through the process and see how we go, ok?"

"Ok, sure," she answered.

She took the bus downtown the next day. The talent agency was on the second floor of an anonymous office building. It consisted of two rooms, the larger of which was covered in photos of young faces. Ben Sargeson was on his own. Shelly wasn't impressed by the size of the operation. She began to have doubts.

She'd imagined a large place with a photographic studio and lines of young hopefuls trying to get into the modelling business. Life had made her wary of cons, of guys that promised much and delivered little.

Ben was nice, though, not sleazy at all, and his warm smile relaxed her a little. He showed her a fashion spread pointing out the various poses then asked her to stand against the wall so he could take a few shots.

After taking some photos he stopped and appeared to be studying her. Shelly felt a little self-conscious and asked him what he was staring at her for.

"You sure you've never modelled?" he asked.

"No, why?"

"You're a natural, Shelly. I can't believe you've never done this before." She was flattered and broke into a smile. "Beautiful," he murmured and took another shot. "Such a pretty face especially when you smile."

Shelly thought later that the remark should have alerted her, but the way he said it sounded so genuine.

After the pictures, he sat her down and they went over the contract and model release. He suggested she take it away and think about it. Maybe discuss it with her parents, friends or go see a lawyer. As she was about to leave, however, he paused at the door.

"You know," he told her, "this job pays chickenfeed compared to what you could be earning."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, look! This job pays, what, about 400 bucks for the day? I could get you work that pays nearly three times that for the same hours."

'Three times!' she thought. She couldn't help but ask what this work was. "What would I have to do?"

"Adult stuff... a bit of nude modelling... video... that sort of thing," he said, almost apologetically. "I'm only telling you this because it's my job as your agent, you understand. I'm not telling you to take your clothes off," he laughed, "just that the work is there if you're at all interested."

Shelly was shocked, she didn't know how to reply. She couldn't understand why anyone would want to see a pregnant, naked girl.

"Ummm... like porno?" she asked.

"I guess..." he replied, "solo work, couples, whatever. No-one forces you to do anything you're not comfortable with," he told her, "but the more you can do the more money you make. That's how the industry works."

"I see!" Shelly felt a tinge of fear. 'What was this guy trying to get her to do?'

"And..." he added, "pregnant is a big bonus at the moment. They're crying out for pregnant girls. I could maybe get you at least 2 grand for a day's work."

"2 Grand? Are you serious" she replied, stunned.

"Sure... 2 grand, no problem."

"I don't know if I believe you," Shelly told the agent.

"Well, don't take my word," Ben replied, "come, I'll shout you afternoon tea and you can meet a couple of the girls. I'll leave you alone with them and they can explain everything, no strings, ok?"

Despite Shelly's misgivings she found herself agreeing. The thought of all that money for one days work was too compelling.

Ben took Shelly to a small coffee house and made a couple of calls on his mobile. About 15 minutes later two women came in and approached them.

Belinda was tall, leggy, blond, big-breasted and in her early twenties. She was dressed in a tight leather skirt and a blue top that appeared molded to her. Her friend, Sara, was shorter with bright red hair. Her black dress fell to her ankles and she concealed her ample bust with a denim jacket. Shelly noticed all their clothes carried designer labels.

They greeted Ben warmly with a kiss each, before he made an exit. They then ordered desserts and coffee with gold credit cards.

"Right," said Belinda after their coffees arrived, "Ben gave you the pitch?"

"Yes," Shelly replied. The girls' eyes were bright, alive and full of mischief, she decided. She thought she was going to like the pair. "Ben said something about some porno stuff? He said I'd make way more money than straight catelogue modelling."

The two girls dissolved in laughter.

"He's still stringing that line? Listen, I'm sorry honey, Ben is a real good agent but he's full of shit, he really is," laughed Belinda.

"How?" Shelly asked.

"Listen, Ben doesn't have any straight modelling contracts... never has. It's just a line to get you interested. He pulled the same stunt on Sara, didn't he?"

"I always thought it was shit," protested the other girl.

"No you didn't, bitch!"

There followed a bit of good natured ribbing as Shelly looked on. Eventually they turned back to her.

"Listen," Sara began, "you have complete separation, ok? Adult, straight... no mixing. No straight client is going to want the 'face' for his product sucking cock on some porn vid, is he? Imagine! Miss Faberge jerking some guy," she giggled, "no way, Jose."

"Yeah," continued Belinda, "straight agencies don't do adult work, no straight client is going to hire a girl from an agency that does porno. Like Sara said, two separate worlds."

"I see!" Shelly told them. Her mind was numb, she didn't know what to think. She felt out of her depth.

"Yeah," continued Belinda, "you make good money... the works easy... most of the producers are okay and Ben knows the ones who aren't. He'll look after you... some agents won't. What else do you want to know?"

"Um..." Shelly stumbled, "what do I have to do?"

"Whatever you like!" laughed Sara, "look, if they want you to do anything you don't want to do, tell them to fuck off."

"Yeah right!" agreed Belinda, "and don't believe anything that's not written down, notarised and filed with your lawyer. We have a great lawyer if you need one," she added, "don't let Ben find one for you."

"Yeah, he's full of shit. Stand your ground, though, and he'll respect that. He's a lamb to us, really!"

"So, what does it involve?" Shelly continued, "do I have to fuck guys?"

"If you like," laughed Belinda, "but usually it's better if you do a little solo stuff first. It kind of eases you into being in front of the camera. See, there's usually only the three of you, director, camera and you. You need to get into the zone... forget about those guys and just be yourself. Ralph, this guy we do a lot of work for, says the lens is like a one way mirror. You can't see all the people behind it... it's your shield!"

"That's deep!" Sara said, sarcastically, "you just forget it's there after a while. That's when you're really in the zone, when you can't see anyone else but the guy... or girl, who's doing you."

"I don't think I could fuck some creep on camera," Shelly told them, "it just seems so sleazy, unloving."

"Creeps?" protested Belinda, "and what the fuck has love done for you?"

"I!" Shelly reddened.

"You want to find some guy and settle down for the next 40 years, right?"

"I guess!"

"And the honeymoon lasts for about 2 years, if you're lucky. Then he keeps staying out late, coming home drunk, belting the shit out of you..."

"He... that's not..."

"Or fucks off on you as soon as you get pregnant..."

"He... I... how did..."

"How did I know?" continued Belinda, "because you'd be out together shopping for baby clothes, that's why. Let me guess... he couldn't handle it, right? Fatherhood, responsibility... just who's the fucking creep, sugar?"

Shelly's tears welled up.

"Cool it, Bell!" cautioned Sara.

"Well, it bloody well pisses me off," Belinda replied, "how dare she make judgements... creeps, huh! What does she know about it?"

"Most of the guys are really good, professionals!" explained Sara, trying to lighten the mood, "they're just doing a job, that's all. It's hard for them you know."

"Yeah, if you're lucky," laughed Belinda, "and they have to keep it that way for an hour or more." Her anger had now dissipated. "They're all on Viagra these days. Keeps them going for hours. We can lube up but they have to get themselves hard. You can't fake that."

"Look at it this way," said her friend, "you see a guy in the street and you think, 'I really want to fuck this guy.'"

"Or girl!" interrupted Belinda.

"Or girl. But you don't know whether he's a jerk, a rapist or what. You just want a fuck but you can't take the risk, no?"

"No," agreed Shelly.

"So what if you could fuck him and be totally safe? You know he's been tested for AIDS, STDs, whatever. He knows what he can or can't do to you and if he tries anything he gets fired. You don't have to see him again if you don't want. You," she emphasised, "are in control of the situation. On top of that, someone pays you a lot of money to film it. Is that a sweet deal or what?"

"I guess..."

"Or," added Belinda, "you can find some guy who'll knock you up and leave you without a penny?"

"It wasn't like that," protested Shelly, "he just couldn't face it, that's all. We had been going out since I was 14. Actually, 12, I suppose..."

"Early starter!" commented Sara.

"That really sucks," Belinda said, "so he just fucks off and leaves you to pick up the pieces. Listen, you want to send her to a good school, no?"

"Of course! How do you know it's a girl?"

"I know, I'm a witch," Belinda laughed. "So what chance does she have with you working in some part-time, dead-end job? Or off the State? Take control of your life, girl!"

"I guess."

"Just think about it," Sara said, "give me a call later if you like. I'll tell you anything you want to know. If you want to give it a go, I'll come with you and talk you through it, promise!"

"Ok, sure," Shelly agreed.

It wasn't until Shelly arrived home that she started to calm down. The two women had been very persuasive and her mind was a riot of conflicting thoughts. They made the whole thing sound normal, like auditioning for some school play instead of taking off your clothes and letting some strange guy have sex with you in front of a camera.

She stood in front of the mirror for a while. Ben had told her that she had a pretty face. Ok, it was probably a line he told all the girls, but compliments were few and far between these days. She studied hard and imagined herself looking back from a TV screen. She did have a nice smile, she concluded, maybe Ben was right about that.

Shelly was quiet during dinner. Her Mother had started on about adoption, about her going back to school. They'd had this discussion before and she was sick of it. She wasn't going to give up her flesh and blood, no way!

"I suppose you'll want me to babysit while you go out to work?" her Mother grumbled.

'Was that an offer?' she wondered, 'or just more nagging, making her feel bad about getting pregnant. Like it was all her fault? Like Chris had nothing to do with it?' The attitude was so old fashioned. 'Why didn't they spare some criticism for Chris, who had taken off leaving her in this condition.'

The atmosphere at home was toxic. Belinda and Sara had been right about one thing, she needed to take back control of her life.

When her and Chris had split, she found that most of her friends were actually his. They'd been a couple for so long, that her social life had become totally enmeshed in his. Most of her old friends had moved on. She didn't really have anyone to confide in, she felt totally alone. Sara, in particular seemed to have thrown her a lifeline. She seemed like someone who she could get along with. Shelly decided give her a ring.

"So how did you get into it?" she asked her.

"Ben," she replied, "just like you, he approached me in the street and gave me that line about a modelling job. I was broke, so..."

"So, what was it like? What did you have to do?"

"Well, Ralph, that's this producer, has this 'Debutante' series. 'First Time Videos' or some such crap, they have different names according to the distributor... it's all copyright stuff I don't understand. He just films you taking off your clothes and playing with yourself. I remember I was so nervous I couldn't get into it but Ralph just kept whispering, 'fake it.' Then he began to breath heavily like this, 'uuuhhhh... ohhhh... whew... oh God, I'm coming!' It was so funny I couldn't stop myself laughing. He's really good, Ralph. He just treats it like a bit of fun, he makes you laugh."

Her laugh was infectious, she found herself joining in. Sara asked her how things were going at home and Shelly told her. "Bummer!" Sara said, "like I said, take back control, love."

"So what do you do now?" Shelly asked.

"Anything, except anal. I can't get into that, but couples, threesomes, girls... anything else is okay. Belinda does anal, she doesn't mind. I must have a small arsehole or something."

"What was your first time like, with a guy?"

"Great, actually. I closed my eyes and imagined I was making out with an old friend of mine. That's what you should do, write out a fantasy, or imagine a really nice time you had with a boyfriend. It helps you get into it, helps you get into the zone. It was with this guy called Jon, he's really good and a great person to boot. I actually came. It doesn't always happen but I came then, really hard."

"So how do I start?" she found herself asking.

"I'll talk to Ben, leave it to me and I'll get back to you. You'll need to do the paperwork at Ben's then get a test done. Got any money?"

"No."

"Then I can lend you some cash for the AIDS test. Got time now? I could pick you up and we can do all that stuff right away if you like. The clinic only takes a few minutes."

"Ok, sure." Shelly wanted to get out of the house, and to see Sara again. She thought they clicked together as friends.

It would take three days to get the result of the tests back. Meanwhile the two women visited the Agency and completed the paper work. Ben asked her to take off her clothes for another file shoot. He was calm and reassuring, but, to allay her nervousness, Sara told her she'd remain with her.

There was nowhere to change, no screen or room. She could change in the toilet down the corridor, but she didn't fancy flouncing past the other offices wearing nothing but a wrap.

"First shot dressed," Ben suggested, "then underwear, then nude."

"Might as well get used to it, Shelly. Ben's seen it all, haven't you Ben?"

"Yeah," he laughed, "photographing beautiful nude girls all day means nothing to me."

"Never gets a hard on either, do you Ben? I think he's Gay, Shelly."

The good-natured banter continued as Shelly stood against the wall. Ben moved about with his digital camera, shooting her from various angles until he was satisfied.

"Top and pants off!" Ben told her. Shelly was nervous but she looked at Sara who smiled. Quickly, lest she changed her mind, she dropped her outer clothing until she stood in her bra and panties.

Next off came her underwear. By now Shelly was used to Ben moving about. He had a look of concentration. She didn't feel he was perving at her body, just doing his job.

Sara clapped and cheered when she was finally naked. Shelly felt like she was at some wild School party where the girls were persuaded to play spin the bottle or strip poker. She grinned with a mixture of shyness and amusement. She had to admit to herself, it was fun.

Shelly still couldn't, however, figure out why any man wanted to stare at her. Her full breasts sagged a little, her nipples dark and distended. Her rounded tummy was smooth except for the bump of her navel. She thought her thighs were too fat and her butt too flabby.

"Sit on the chair, Love?" Ben asked her. Gently, he coaxed her to open her knees. Shelly shook with embarrassment as he knelt to take a shot of her pussy. Soon he was finished and she began to dress.

"See," said Sara, "that wasn't too bad, was it? You'll find the whole thing easier now. Like losing your cherry."

'No, ' she thought, 'that wasn't too bad.'

"You've got a nice body," Sara continued, "natural, guys like that. See," she continued, "I have a theory; girls get silicone to impress other girls. But guys, they want girls to look like girls, do you know what I mean? Like the chick next door they've always wanted to screw. True, eh Ben?"

"Yep," he agreed, "best chicks are real. On screen, you can tell the fakes. Guys are tired of fakes. For years that's all the porno industry would give them; lots of plastic, formula choreography, the same angles. The Internet gave them choice now, see? Ma and Pa outfits could make a movie in their lounge, with a handycam and a willing neighbour."

"Ma and Pa?" Shelly asked, amused.

"Y'know, small outfit. You could set yourself up with a couple of thousand bucks. Do it right and the profits were astronomical."

"And now?"

"Shaken down a bit, now. There's just so many people in the business. Cheap models from Eastern Europe and they're all gorgeous. See, it's one of the few branches of the Entertainment industry where you don't have to have a good command of English."

"Yeah," laughed Sara, "just groan and moan."

"Or voice-overs. I hate that shit... it always looks fake. You tell me how some girl can moan, 'oh, that feels soooo good, ' with a mouthful of dick?"

"Ha ha," laughed the other girl, "I'm sure I heard the same audio on different movies."

"Yeah, that would be Gomez, he's industrial, that guy. He cranks out videos so fast he uses the same stock audio."

"What happens now?" Sara asked.

"Well, I'll speak to a few people and we'll see if we can get you some work. Sit tight for a few days and I'll get back to you."

"Need any money?" Sara asked her, "Ben?"

"Oh yeah," he coughed, "you'll need a few cosmetics and stuff, maybe a makeover. I'll advance you a couple of hundred, deductable from your future earnings."