Photographic Problems - Cover

Photographic Problems

by Ernest Bywater

All rights reserved © 2007, 2008, 2010

Drama Sex Story: A photographer helps out an old friend, another photographer, and saves him from being ripped off by two sets of gold diggers. When the second gold digger sets her sights on him, he turns things and ends up with some teenage wives, as does his friend. Set in Australia. Unable to correct typos due to laws related to character ages.

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/ft   Blackmail   Coercion   Consensual   Reluctant   Slavery   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Workplace   Incest   Mother   Daughter   Group Sex   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Safe Sex   Politics   Violence   .

The titles I use are a chapter, a sub-chapter, and a section.

Table of Contents

Background
Bad News
Worse News
New Management
Sexy Shoot
Next Day
Truth Will Out
The Plan Backfires
Afterwards


Background

My friend Patrick, a photographer, asked me to write about a set of incidents in his life for him. He’s a great photographer and a good story teller, but a lousy writer; thus this commission. Yeah, commission, because he’s paying me to write this story for him. Well, sort of paying me, because he’s paying in kind, a portfolio for my favourite niece. I’ll write it from his point of view. Patrick isn’t his real name, but those real familiar with the local photographic industry will know him. He doesn’t mind that, he just can’t use his real name, due to legal reasons and some related issues that would come from having his real name linked to some of the incidents in this story.

Photographers

I’m twenty-eight years of age, solid build, and very fit, because I play sport three times a week. Short light hair: who knows what it is, because it varies from white to a light brown or a light red with the sunlight and washing. Deep blue eyes, average height, and average build. My mixed European heritage includes English, Scottish, Irish, French, Italian, and Swedish ancestors. All of those in the last four generations, with a paternal main line going way back in Wales and a maternal paternal main line going way back in Scotland. I’m Caucasian, smart, with a knack of finding innovative solutions to hard problems, and a wicked sense of humour. My greatest skill is being able to set models and lighting up to get the perfect shot of them. This is what makes me so in demand for portfolios and custom photographic work. I’m well off because I’m very well paid for my work, and I have been for fifteen years. Many in the industry call me Perfectly Pat because of the quality of my work; they say the name describes both me, my work, and my approach to all I do.

Randolph ‘Randy’ Carpenter is another photographer who sort of works for me. He’s a good looking (according to some females) twenty-nine year old of athletic build, tall, short dark brown hair, and the darkest brown (almost black) eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s a very good photographer too, but he’s not that smart where the ladies are concerned. In fact, he can be outright stupid about women.

Businesses

Legally, I’ve two photographic businesses: Pat’s Photo Services, and Seaside Studios. Pat’s is the one I established seven years ago, and it does very well. Seaside is one I established five years ago to help Randy out. Hell, we’ve been friends since primary school, so I helped him out. I better digress and tell you all about that, first.

Six years ago Randy got married. Neither of us knows exactly how that came about. He was dating a woman, and before he knew it he’d bought her a diamond ring. I, and a few others, said she’s just a gold digger. At that time he had the second most lucrative bachelor owned business in the area, second only to mine. He had a lot of revenue, but he also had very high in expenses. Still, he made a good living. After some months of discussion he finally asked me to set things up to protect him if I’m right about her.

He needed to replace most of his equipment, he’d originally bought used gear which was now very worn out, and often in need of expensive repairs. I was doing very well with slightly less revenue, but a much higher profit margin, because I used newer types of equipment, and operated differently, with mostly well paid outside assignments. Many basic service charges were similar, but my expenses were only a quarter of his. I set him up by starting a new business and registering the name. He was already using the name, but he hadn’t registered it. I allowed him to use my registered business name to run his operation. I bought new digital equipment and lights, which I rented to him at high rates while keeping separate records for both businesses. I found and bought a studio in a better location then I helped him move into it, and rented it to him. It had a lovely six bedroom house with a large back yard and front garden as part of the same block of land. Bought cash in the business name with money from a mortgage on my studio, because it was easier to organise and less paperwork to be done that way.

I now had a business using his old business name that provided the equipment, studio, and a nice house to live in, all at premium rental rates. This new business made very good profits, which went into paying off the mortgage on my studio raised to set it up. He charged good rates to pay his operating costs of consumables, utilities, and rents to leave him with a very good income after expenses. He started putting some money in the bank toward when they’d have kids while he and his wife lived in a very good lifestyle.

Seaside doesn’t actually turn much of a cash profit for me. I’d loaned it money from Pat’s to buy the equipment, and I took out a mortgage for the studio. Randy rents everything on a ten year rental agreement based on a starting rate, and increased by CPI every six months. The premium rental rates paid the mortgage payments and the loan on the equipment very fast. The bank loan is over twenty years, but the rents from Randy are paying it off fast, because I’m putting the bulk of the rent to the mortgage while keeping a small amount for maintenance and rates. At the current rate of repayment the mortgage should be paid out within seven years of being started.

It’s quite funny, in a way. I use an older studio because I like the light better, it looks its age because it’s very run down, and I usually work about twenty-five hours a week. Randy uses a much larger and flashier premises while working about fifty hours a week. Yet I’m the one with all the assets and money, because I’m paid more per special assignment and have a higher profit margin. I keep the Seaside books separate to Pat’s, because it’s my intention to turn over the operation to Randy when I’m convinced it’s time to do so. His work, so he should get the profits, in the long term, less the income return I’d have made on my investment if I’d made it elsewhere. I keep track of that as well, so I know how much of the profit is morally mine.

Bad News

Five years into the marriage, and she’s found someone new. She wants a divorce. They’ve no kids so, it’s a simple matter right - wrong. She wants half of his assets. The first he knows of this is when he goes to an outside assignment that takes most of the day, and he returns to find his keys don’t work. He can’t get into the studio or house, and there’s no answer to the doorbell, because she’s gone somewhere he doesn’t know about. For once in his life he does the smartest thing he can do, he immediately calls me. I call a good locksmith, and we meet at the studio. I take all of my Seaside paperwork with me to show I own it.

The first thing I do is to have Randy write me a request to break into the house, because I’m the landlord and I need this from the tenant for legal reasons. The lease is in his name only, because the studio and house are one property and rented to him before the wedding took place. Next I’ve the locksmith bust into the studio. He uses his drill to bore out the centre of the lock. No messing about, sheer brute force against a cheap lock. We check all of the equipment is there and OK while the locksmith replaces the lock with a high quality lock that won’t readily succumb to the attack he just used. I take photos of everything we do while we do it. I want good evidence of our actions if it goes to court. Then it’s the house. Inside the front door of the house are two bags with most of his clothes. On the dining room table are copies of all the paperwork she lodged at the court last month. I take photographs of every page of the documents she has out, and everything in every room. The locksmith is busy giving the front door a high quality lock, and I tell him do the same to the two back doors. Both buildings have security grills on the windows, so the place is going to be very hard to break into after this. Randy calls the bank, to find the joint account with most of their money has been emptied today. On my advice he immediately cancels the bank account with its linked cheque account and credit cards. The bank is happy to do all this, so he races down the street on foot to sign the paperwork before the bank closes for the day at 4.00 p.m.

While he’s gone I move his car into the garage and remove the rotor button before locking it up. By the time he returns the locksmith has finished the front door and is working on the back doors. I send Randy out for a ‘Quik-lock’ for his car. He’s back at 4.30 p.m., and he puts it on the car steering wheel. I hand him the rotor button to put in his pocket, he smiles when he does, because the keys won’t start it now.

Just before 5.00 p.m. the locksmith is finished with all four of the exterior doors on both buildings, because the studio has a back door that opens into the house’s back yard. All four are keyed alike, to simplify access for Randy; he gets two keys and I get one. Randy pays the locksmith from his takings for the day, and keeps the bill for later. The locksmith will come back tomorrow to change the locks on the car and the garage door, he doesn’t have those types of locks in his van.

Randy unpacks his clothes and packs up hers. That takes several extra boxes. We also pack all of the papers she has on the dining table. We take it all out and put it in the back of my van. I drive a Toyota Tarago van with three rows of seating, including the front seat, plus plenty of storage room behind the last seat row. This gives me a lot of room to carry equipment and a couple of models as well. It’s very handy for outside assignments. We sit in the van and wait for her to return.

Just after 6.30 p.m. a very new Mercedes Benz pulls to the kerb and parks. She gets out, so does a man neither of us knows. He’s strongly built, he must do weights at the gym or something, he’s very tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, what some call ruggedly handsome, and he’s wearing about six thousand dollars’ worth of designer clothes. While they walk to the front door I ring the police on my mobile phone, and ask them for assistance with a domestic situation that’s about to get out of hand. The say they’ll be down when they can. I thank them. She’s trying her key in the lock, and it won’t fit, it won’t even go in, because it’s a different type of key.

I tell Randy to stay in the car, he doesn’t want to, but agrees, with great reluctance. I get out of the car and cross the road. When I enter the gate I say, “Evening, Princess, got a problem?”

They both turn and look at me. The man says, “What’s it to you?”

I reply, “Just asking my friend’s wife if she has a problem I may be able to help with, that’s all.”

He says, “Soon to be ex-wife, you mean. And it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

I say, “That so, I wonder when she’ll get around to telling him that. When I spoke to him, earlier today, he thought all was still well. I had to speak to him, because I’m his landlord and I upgraded the security on the house and studio today, at his request. I had high security locks put in late this afternoon. When the locksmith told me no one was at home I told him to drill the locks out and put the new ones in. He gave me the new keys when he finished.”

When I mention being the landlord she spins round, saying, “What the hell do you mean landlord. This is my house.”

While shaking my head no I say, “No, it isn’t. The house and studio are mine, I rent them to Randy.”

She screams, and attacks me while yelling, “Give me the key to my house you lying bastard.”

I back up, and close the gate between us. The man is standing there, stunned. I’m holding the gate shut while she’s screaming abuse at me and trying to pull the gate open. The police arrive. On their orders I let go of the gate and back away a few metres. She heaves the gate open and starts after me. The female police officer does a very nice intercept. Princess is screaming and yelling because the police officer won’t let her go. She attacks the police officer, and scratches the cop’s arm so bad it’s bleeding freely.

The police officer says, “Right, that’s it.” She forces Princess to the ground, and handcuffs her. They lift her up, and put her in the back of their van.

The other officer says, “I think we best finish this at the station, if you don’t mind.” I nod yes, and the other man nods yes as well.

We all drive down to the station, and give our stories to the police sergeant there while he writes it all down. The sergeant is handling this because the two officers are now involved in a case of assault on a police officer. After taking all our statements he has her charged with an assault on a police officer. She puts up the bail, and has to appear before the local magistrate at 10.00 a.m. the next day. So do I and her boyfriend, as witnesses. Randy didn’t have a good view, so he isn’t a witness to the assault. Her new boyfriend has agreed to put her up overnight, so Randy and I help him move her things from my van to his car while they process the paperwork on her, then we leave.

We get dinner on the way home, then we spend the night preparing for tomorrow. I wonder which court she’ll miss, because at 10.00 a.m. she’s supposed to be in the Family Court about the divorce, and at the local Magistrate’s Court about the assault. We know about the Family Court from the papers we found. She’d never served any on Randy, and those copies are amongst the papers I put in her bags, despite her signing a declaration about them being served. Randy and I spend a few hours copying and preparing paperwork. We visit a friend who’s a Justice of the Peace to witness both of us signing several documents.

The next morning I find out her priorities. I’m at the local court at 9.30 a.m., and she isn’t. She doesn’t even send a solicitor to represent her. I talk to the Police Prosecutor to tell her what I know and where I think Princess is. She calls the family court, and finds out she signed in there ten minutes ago at 9.25 a.m. She passes the information to the Clerk of the Court. Ours is the first case heard. The judge issues a warrant for her arrest, and the police offer me a ride to the Family Court. I talk them into letting the Family Court finish with her before bringing her back, if she requests it. They smile while they agree. If the Family Court takes too long she’ll be in the cells overnight for a local court hearing tomorrow.

We arrive at the Family Court at 11.15 a.m., and Randy tells me the Registrar has nearly finished reading the list, and they’ll be the first contested case heard. When the court sits they first go through the list to ensure everyone is on hand. If it can be quickly settled by agreement it’s heard and dealt with, contested matters are sent out and brought back a little later; this is called ‘reading the list.’

While Randy is telling me this the police are talking to her. She begs them to let her finish with this court first. They agree to let her.

At 11.30 a.m. we all file into the courtroom when their case is called. The Registrar is surprised to see two police officers walk in with her. The gist of the matter is she knows the house and studio were bought a few years earlier for cash, and they’ve a current value of $500,000, also the photographic equipment is insured for another $100,000, so she wants $300,000 dollars as her share of the common property. I greatly enjoy the look on her face when Randy stands up and says he doesn’t own any assets other than his car, which he owned before they got married. The only other assets they have are the $9,000 in the bank, which she cleared out yesterday, his clothes, and the furniture in the house that’s insured for $7,000, which is all old and worn. The Registrar asks about the property and equipment. I stand, and speak about owning the business since it was legally created some years ago. I also tell how Randy is a freelance photographer who works for me in a very simple arrangement something like a share cropper works a farm. He rents the property and equipment from me, because he can’t afford to buy it, and he lives off what he makes beyond the rental costs. I explain about mortgaging my other property to raise the money to buy this one cash, as I’m helping my long term friend out. I show her all of the paperwork. The Registrar finds there are no significant assets in the common property, and rules each can keep what they currently have in their possession.

With the ruling given we exit the court at 12.30 p.m. The police formally arrest Princess and lead her off. I get a lift back to the local Magistrate’s Court with Randy. By the time the magistrate is finished with her she’s on a twelve month Good Behaviour Bond and she’s fined $2,000. She’s not happy at all.

Randy and I go back to ‘business as usual’ that afternoon, and forget about her. We leave the arrangements the way they are in case she tries any further tricks.

Worse News

Several months after the separation Randy is hired to do some Studio shots of a sixteen year old girl, and her mother is there to supervise the shoot. They pay him to do a portfolio of the girl in various clothes, swimsuits, and nude. He’s enjoying the work, since he doesn’t get much nude work. Because of the laws he sights the birth certificate before he starts the work, and it states Alice XXX was born on a certain date, making her nearly seventeen years old. The nude shots become a bit more graphic than he expected. The girl asks him to fuck her. He looks at the mother, and she shrugs her shoulders while saying, “Her choice, she’s on the pill.” He can’t believe his luck - if only he’d followed that thought. He gets undressed while taking more shots when the girl watches him undress. He sets the cameras to auto-shoot mode and moves in on the girl, she eagerly welcomes him. They have sex every which way he can for almost an hour. A very good time is had by both.

That night he calls me over and tells me about his afternoon. I don’t believe him, so he gets out the memory cards and shows me. The cameras didn’t get the whole session, but they got enough of it to prove his point. Many shots of him in her in varying ways. Even a few with the mother in the background. I’m not happy with what happened, and I tell him so.

I take copies of all the images and place them in secure storage. I write and send him a letter on my business letterhead paper saying I’m not happy with the events of that afternoon and I ask him to refrain from similar activities in the future. When he asks me why I sent the letter I explain he used what’s legally my work premises and work equipment, thus making me an accomplice. If anything goes wrong I could be deep in it too. He writes a nice letter back apologising and saying he’ll get my permission before doing any nude or sex related work in future, instead of doing them without my prior knowledge.

He prepares the portfolio as instructed, and delivers it to the girl several days later. No photos of them having sex. When he hands it over the mother asks for $5,000 to keep quiet about his having sex with her fifteen year old daughter. His eyes bulge. She has five daughters, a seventeen year old, fifteen year old twins, and fourteen years old twins. She’d shown him the birth certificate of the eldest while he was with one of the fifteen year old twins. She wants free portfolios of all the girls and an extra $5,000 cash, or they’ll tell the police he knew she was under age.

Now I should explain about our silly laws. It’s legal for a person to have sex at sixteen years of age, but must be eighteen years of age before they can engage in sex for any commercial reason, prostitution, or paid to be photographed having sex. They can be photographed nude at any age as long as they’re not engaged in sex if under sixteen years of age. If paid as a model they must sign a release form with their personal details and it must state the work to be done, after having provided identification documents. If the model is under eighteen years of age the form must be counter-signed by a parent after they provide their identification. When you’re hired as a photographer to do a portfolio no forms are needed. Generally, when you take photos the photographer owns the copyright and can use the images how they wish. However, in some cases this isn’t so clear, and the subject can have a say in allowing the use of the images. The release form is to ensure everyone knows who owns the images. When doing portfolios the forms and copyright usually don’t matter, because the photographer is paid to do the work, so he gives the images to the model and he’ll often sign a release form in favour of the model so it’s clear she owns them.

This pair mouse trapped Randy. Since he was being commissioned he saw no need to give the ID papers a thorough check and make them sign the usual declarations in the release form. He has no evidence they claimed the girl was of legal age.

The upshot is they have a yelling match. He storms off and calls me. I head around to his place, to find the police there and about to enter the gate. Arriving at the front door just behind them I shake my head no, when one says, “May we come in and talk to you about a matter?”

He replies, “I’m sorry, but my landlord is behind you and he’s here about an important issue. Do you mind waiting here a moment, and then I can talk to you?” They look at him, then turn to look at me. They nod their heads yes, and stand aside. I have him leave the door open while we go down the hallway to talk in the dining room. I make sure he sits where they can see him. That’s when he hits me with the really bad part, because he says, “Since the shoot I’ve been dating the girl and had sex on every date. I’m really interested in her and she’s really interested in me.” He gives me the girl’s first name, Alice, and her phone number. We discuss the matter in detail, and I give him the best advice I can.

After several minutes I get up, and we both go to the front door. I say, “OK, I’ll have someone look into doing the garage up, and I’ll get a builder to look at the roof. I’ll let you know how things go.”

Walking out of the house with me he replies, “Thanks, I’d like to see them fixed very soon. Mind waiting a moment, as a witness. I think I know what these officers want.” He shuts the front door behind him, and we stand on the porch while he says, “Sorry about the delay, how may I help you officers?”

One officer says, “We have a complaint from a woman claiming you’ve been dating and having sex with her under age daughter.” She names the girl as Jennifer.

He says, “Some weeks ago I meet a girl when her mother hired me to do a portfolio for the girl. The mother told me the girl was seventeen and showed me a birth certificate. The portfolio included semi-clothed, clothed, and nude shots. The girl and I got on well. Since then we’ve been out a few times and had sex. I’d been told by both the girl and her mother she was seventeen years of age. Today, while I was over there the mother told me her daughter is really only fifteen and said she’d have me charged if I didn’t pay her some money. We had an argument about that, so I’m not surprised you’re here about it.”

They talk some more, and they wish to take him to the station. I advise him not to say anything more until he has a solicitor, and I’ll organise one to meet him at the police station. When they drive off I ring ‘Alice’ on her mobile phone. We talk at length. She explains her name is Jennifer, she knew it was a scam when she went to the studio, but since then she’s come to love Randy. She spoke to her mother about dropping the scam, but her mother is angry. She doesn’t want Jennifer to see Randy any more. She’s not prepared to call her mother a liar, but she’s not prepared to lie in court, either.

The police take about a week investigating the charge. The Police Prosecutor isn’t all that sure they can get a conviction with a jury, and Randy’s solicitor is saying she’ll go for a jury trial if they lose at the magistrate’s hearing. In the end Randy suggests a compromise, since he doesn’t wish to see Jennifer being put through a very harsh cross examination in the court, because the sucker really does love her. They negotiate, and he pleads ‘No contest’ to a lesser charge. The magistrate sentences him to a minimum security facility for nine months. The Police Prosecutor tells Jennifer he doesn’t know what really went on, but Randy agreed to the deal to avoid her having to face a hostile cross examination in court. She leaves the office crying while she swears at her mother. The week after Randy’s hearing my solicitor gets a letter from a solicitor seeking compensation for the sexual abuse of their client by my employee, they cite the girl and Randy. My solicitor sends a polite letter back explaining he isn’t, and never was, an employee, but a freelance consultant who rented facilities and equipment. She includes copies of the letters Randy and I exchanged. It’s clear this case doesn’t have a leg to stand on. The other solicitor confirms receipt, and agrees they don’t have a case, because the situation isn’t what he’d thought it was from the client’s original discussions.

The next month Jennifer writes Randy to tell him she’s pregnant, and includes the medical certificate. She starts talking about getting Randy out of prison early. He declines, because if he stays the term that’s it, and it’s all over and done with. An early release will mean six or more months on parole and other restrictions. Plus it’ll probably include not being allowed to see her at all.

New Management

I’ve no problem with closing Seaside up for nine months. But about then a developer offers me an extremely good price for my main studio, which includes my residence. It’s about twenty percent over market value. It turns out mine is the last property holding up their major development project because they’ve been quietly buying properties for some months. Nearly all of my work is now outside assignments, often at the client’s premises, so I sell the place. I move into the house at Seaside, and I use it as my base of operations.

About eight weeks after Randy’s court hearing I open up Seaside for the first time. About an hour later a woman walks in, and says, “I thought this business was closed for a year!”

I say, “The previous photographer is away for several months and I’m in need of a new studio, so I’m making use of this one until Randy comes back. I’ll be filling in for him and offering the same services as he does at similar rates. But I’ll be away on outside assignments more than he was.”

She smiles while she slowly nods. She asks how much to do a portfolio for two of her daughters, and my ears twitch at this. I reply, “Well, at my old studio I used to charge fifteen hundred dollars for a portfolio for a model, but Randy’s charge sheet says five hundred dollars. So, since you’ve asked here and I’m filling in for him, it’s seven hundred and fifty dollars per person.” She nods again, and thanks me before we set a date for the portfolio shoot.

Sexy Shoot

In the days before the shoot I go around the studio setting up high quality digital video recorders while rigging them for movement or remote activation. They’re all very well hidden. Every centimetre of the studio is covered by two or more of them, and they all have good audio, as well. I have a number of backdrops and scenes set up for doing a wide range of portfolios. I don’t know the surname of the family involved with Randy, but I’m very suspicious of the situation, and maybe just a bit paranoid by now.

On the morning of the shoot the woman arrives with two mid-teen girls, very pretty blue eyed blond twins. Both are the same height and come to just under my chin, their breasts appear to be a nice hand full, and athletic builds. The mother shows me the birth certificates stating they turned sixteen just two weeks earlier, one is called Jennifer and the other Janice. I think, Maybe I’m not so paranoid after all, while I start the digital video cameras. Placing the birth certificates on a table just inside the door I use the certificates to copy the names when I enter the details into my version of a portfolio contract order and show the contracts to the mother. Immediately above this table, and focussed on it, is a camera that’s recording the details of the certificates and the forms.

The mother has to tick and sign beside the types of photography they want in the portfolio, and the girl has to sign beside them as well. They tick and sign for clothed, lingerie, swimsuit, nude, beach, and general activity. I sign the forms and photocopy them before handing them the originals while I explain this is their copy of the work contract with me. The mother pays over the $1,500 and I write her a receipt before placing the money in the wall safe. I lock the exterior doors so no one can look in, all the windows are already covered, as usual.

 
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