Ch 8

It was nearing midnight when I finally pulled my car to the driveway. I was sweaty, exhausted, and hungry, though none of them managed to reduce the sense of satisfaction I was feeling. Not after I had managed to get a sizable job from one of the biggest fashion companies in the town. Yes, it was a limited budget work for a seasonal line of clothing they were trying to enter, and I could easily lose it if my work was substandard, but regardless, it was an amazing career opportunity for me.

I glanced at the back-seat, where a large box lay, filled with costumes, next to a smaller one that filled with a range of plastic accessories, from handcuffs to plastic weapons. It was unexpected for a large lingerie company like that to enter a niche market like adult-focused costumes. Or not, I amended my thoughts a second later, remembering the way people dressed around the school in the last Halloween. People liked to free their inner perverts that day, and it made sense for them to be there. After all, it wasn't just underwear they sold, but the promise of sexiness.

However, my mind was back on more important topics as I stepped out of the car, like who was going to model for them. Nicole was a given, but unfortunately, I couldn't use her for the whole set. The client had asked for variety. Maybe I could Katie to pose for them, especially for the tamer ones. After all, while she owed me for helping her issues with Madison, I doubted that it was enough to convince her to dress as a slutty maid, in a costume that was barely fit to be called underwear. Madison might have been willing to help, but that wasn't without its challenges, such as explaining why I was living in Katie's basement.

I must have done something nice to get lady luck's blessing, because I met my answer as soon as I stepped in the living room. Nancy was at the kitchen table, examining the piece of paper in her hand with an expression of total disbelief. I hadn't needed to ask her to know it was a letter informing her about the rejection of her book, a development which left her in the hook to pay back a significant amount. I couldn't have engineered a better solution even if I tried.

"Hi, Nancy," I said as I walked towards her, with the boxes in my hand.

"Hi, Stephen," she murmured in response, not even bothering to lift her head as she answered. There was an aura of sadness around her, one that tried to keep people away, but I ignored it in favor of walking closer to her, stopping only to drop my load on a spare chair.

I pulled the chair next to her before speaking once more. "You don't sound well. Am I right to assume it's the letter from the publisher, and it has an answer different than what you were hoping?"

"Right in one, do you want a medal," she answered bitingly before her sarcasm was replaced with panic. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

I waved her apology for her blowup with a careless gesture. "Don't worry about it. You are annoyed, and lashing out is to be expected. No offense taken."

She nodded resolutely. "Still, I shouldn't have said that. It's not like you had anything to do with this monumental disaster."

"Is there no hope left? It's a definite rejection."

"Unfortunately, it is." She took a deep breath, her voice hitching. "And you know what's annoying. It's not like they have a trouble with anything important. One of them accidentally mentioned that the editor that picked my book had a fight with the owner. Canceling my book is just a way to show her who is the boss."

"Disgraceful," I said, though I could scarcely say I was shocked. It was one of the nasty lessons of the business world, a career could easily be ruined by the battle of giants, stampeded under their feet as they battled. "Still, look at the positive. It means that your book is as good as you think. It should be easy to find a new publisher."

"Maybe, but I need to pay the advance in a week. I don't have that kind of money." She sighed deeply. "My mother is going to kill me."

I carefully hid my smirk before speaking. "Maybe I could be in assistance."

She turned to look at me so quick that I was sure she got whiplash. "How? Can I borrow some from you to match the advance?"

"Unfortunately not," I answered, but pointed at the box of clothes before she could answer. "However, I just received a box of Halloween costumes, and I need a model for them. Maybe you could be that model. There is a lot of costumes to do, and if you do all I ask, you should be able to cover your advance with your earnings."

An expression of indecision wasn't something unexpected. "Me? A model," she murmured, unbelieving.

"Why not," I countered. "You are a young, beautiful woman who would look amazing in those costumes, and I'm a decent photographer if I so myself. I'm sure we can handle them perfectly between us."

"Really," she said, her indecision replaced with a blush, showing her weakness for compliments, not to mention an opportunity to enjoy her exhibitionism without repercussion. "Do you think I can do it," she said. But her enthusiasm wasn't long-lived. "But I can't. Can you imagine the reaction if mom saw them."

Nothing much, I guessed, considering some of the pictures that rested comfortably in my hard disk, but I couldn't tell Nancy that. "You don't need to worry on that account. Each costume comes with a mask, so no one will know you're the model."

She stilled for a second, but a smile slowly pushed to her face as she assessed the idea. "We need to do the shots when no one else is at home, to make sure mom doesn't come across it," she said. I nodded in satisfaction. Her focus on the logistics of the shots meant she was close to capitulation. "And how many costumes do you have?"

I quickly went through the potentials, and which would fit Nancy the best. Probably six, I decided, cycling through the costumes, mentally assigning some of them to Nicole as well. "Eight," I said, leaving myself a margin of two in case of a last minute change, or for some experimentation if I could manage to finish easily.

"Eight," she repeated, surprised. "That's quite a bit of money for each costume."

"Modeling is a lucrative business if you can find regular work. The trick is to establish a network to bring that." I shrugged. "Still, we could discuss the opportunities of an alternate career another time. Are you willing to model for me for the Halloween costumes?"

For a moment, she stayed silent, but I couldn't say it was a surprise to receive her eventual nod, agreeing to my proposition. With no job and no opportunity, she would either tell her mother about her sudden need of cash, creating a crisis that wasn't best advised for an adult that still lived with her parents, or she would model for me. Funny thing was that Nicole would be able to give her the money without any issue, as she was suddenly cash-rich thanks to her own modeling. A smirk appeared on my face, imagining how they would react if they learn each other's side gig. Too bad it would be too damaging for me to risk it, no matter how entertaining it would be.

"Let's go then," I said, then stood up, only stopping to pick up the box before continuing towards the basement. I was halfway through the stairs when I heard her footsteps, rapidly getting closer, but I chose to say nothing. I had already the box and was removing the first uniform from it when Nancy stood in front of me.

"Are we going to do it right now?" she asked in a tone of total disbelief.

"Sure," I answered. "Do you have anything else to do?"

"No, but-" she said, only to be cut halfway.

"Perfect, then we can start now," I said, doing my best to convey the finality of the decision.

Caught flat-footed by the sudden change of demeanor, she wasn't able to do anything but nod passively. "Is that my costume?" she muttered a minute later, trying to sound nonchalant, but a slight tremble in her tone betraying her discomfort. She might be a closet exhibitionist, but she did that in her own terms. Forced to dress in a revealing dress was different. Still, she managed to fake a confident look.

I just nodded, trying not to show my satisfaction. Artificial self-confidence was one of the easiest emotions to manipulate, especially if it was built on a shaky foundation. It didn't take a genius to know that I could push her well-past her comfort zone. Whenever I pushed her to a new level of discomfort, she would do her best to fake comfort, like it was her own idea in the first place.

"It doesn't look a lot," she said when I lifted the first costume up for her view, a thematically-modified police uniform, its skirt short enough to qualify as underwear. The shirt was slightly transparent as well, not to mention short enough to leave the stomach bare. The accompanying underwear looked substantial though, enough to cover the deficiencies of the costume up to a point.

"Don't worry, this is not everything," I said as I passed the set to her before starting my search in the other bag. A flicker of hope appeared on her face with my words, only to wither when I showed her the rest of the costume, a midnight-blue mask that would cover the upper half of her face, and lace-covered handcuffs, and a pair of stilettos in the same midnight blue color. "You can change behind the screen."

For a moment, she was frozen in an obvious internal accounting, measuring the relative benefits of canceling the deal and explaining the situation to her mother. But as the saying went, pride came before the fall. Her resigned expression was enough answer. She nodded in a confident manner, almost enough to be believable if it wasn't for her steps, being forcibly dragged towards the screen. I was tempted to poke fun at her, but I was reticent of changing her decision before her full commitment.

I busied myself with technical details as I waited for her to come out, setting up the lights, ensuring the batteries were fully charged, and various other small tasks. But five minutes later, there was still no sight of her. "Is there something wrong?" I asked despite guessing she was feeling too shy to step out. "Do you need any help with the costume?"

"No, no!" she answered in an obvious display of panic, proving the accuracy of my guess. "I had a bit of trouble with the shoes, but I managed to fix it. I'm coming out now."

I had to wait another minute despite her assertion, but the resulting view was well worth the wait. I had known the beauty that rested under her casual clothes thanks to her revealing tendencies. But dressed in a slightly-transparent costume built from a small piece of fabric while still maintaining the idea of a policewoman, she looked exquisite, like a present that was begging to be unwrapped. Her mask just added to the mystery.

However, despite her striking beauty, she failed to exhume the effortless eroticism Nicole had displayed from the first moment she stood in front of the camera. I couldn't help but feel disappointed despite knowing it was unfair. Nicole was a miracle in front of a camera, instincts of a model coupled with the demeanor of a servant. Nancy was still beautiful, and I was good enough to fake the emotions through the camera, especially with an easy prop like a sexy-policewoman uniform. The presence of her underwear, visible through the thin fabric reduced the difficulty to a trivial level.

"Okay, stand in a way that feels comfortable to you and give me a smile," I said. I wasn't expecting her to cross her arms around her chest in an attempt to reduce her display, but I allowed it to pass uncommented. Showing herself in front of the camera was much different than the calculated displays she put out for me occasionally. This time, she had no control. Still, I said nothing, as mellowing her was much more important than needling her, or making sure first few test pictures looked nice.

First few minutes, I hadn't said anything other than small pose corrections, letting her get used to being photographed. "Now, let your arms fell to the side," I said, only to get a baleful glare which was visible even through the mask. I snorted in amusement. "You don't think we can complete whole the set with your arms crossed around your chest, do you?" Her expression implied that she was willing to consider that possibility, but I glared at her silently until she dropped the idea, and her arms with it. "That's better," I said as the shutter clicked once more, immortalizing the view, including her breasts under the deficient cover of her costume.

"Is it over?" she murmured when I stopped after a few shots, taking a small break to examine her figure.

"Not even close," I answered in good humor. "It's a commercial shoot, we need a huge range of photos to ensure we have what client needs. Now, cross your arms under your chest." She did so, which enhanced the view of her chest considerably. "Amazing," I said, and a proud smile popped to her face, one that was instantly replaced with discomfort after my next words. "Could you please pop open first two buttons."

"Two?" she asked in a trembling voice, rightfully so as even in the current state, the costume had a considerably deep cleavage.

"You know what, you're right," I murmured. "Two wouldn't give the desired effect. Make it three," I ordered, acting like I had misunderstood the reason for her complain.

"Three?" she repeated, this time barely a whisper.

"Come on, Nancy, we can't finish it if you try to push back for my every order," I said, underlining my words with a sharp look. Her expression showed that she didn't appreciate my comment, showing a marked difference from Nicole's meek obedience, but she didn't say anything. Not surprising, with the responsibility of paying her advance back hanging above her like the sword of Damocles. With trembling fingers, she reached for the buttons, undoing them one by one, my arousal growing with her widening cleavage. I took a few more photos. "Perfect, now, bring your cap over your cleavage, and raise the handcuffs in the other."

I have ordered through a few poses, but I could read the signals that she was reaching her limit. I decided to bring today's shoot to an end, as I already had more than enough to accommodate the client's needs. But before calling it over, I had one last image in mind that I wanted to immortalize. "It's almost over," I said consolingly, and she smiled. "I just need to take a couple of photos that actually use the prop," I explained as I walked towards her.

"Pass me the cuffs, then put your hands behind your back," I ordered. She didn't look very enthusiastic about the idea, but passed them to me nevertheless before putting her arms behind her back, and I put the cuffs on. It was a struggle to pull my hands away from her body after setting up the scene, as with forcing her arms her back also enhanced her cleavage considerably, straining her bra's capacity to keep them contained. Especially attractive, the corner of her areolas peeking through the edge.

After the brief struggle against my desires, I managed to pull back without creating a scene, and took a few quick photos before ordering her to sit down to the chair and lean forward, then took a few more photos, wishing that she didn't have the mask on, because the angry expression she doubtlessly wore would have been an amazing contrast. Alas, we didn't always get what we wanted. "Congratulations for successful completion of your first photo shoot," I called as I walked back to unlock the handcuffs. I didn't even consider faking her about the customary hug, having a good idea the explosive reaction that might follow.

"Finally," she murmured in elation.

I could understand her concern, as it was a difficult thing to undress in front of a stranger, and the nice thing was to act understanding. Luckily, I was not a nice person. Actually, I could go as far as to say I was an old-school bastard, which meant I didn't have to act nice. "We can skip the rest if it was such a bother to you," I commented even as I walked away, my voice intentionally cold.

"I'm sorry Stephen," she said as she took a few quick steps, in which I had to struggle to keep my gaze away from her chest, as the flimsy bra was creaking under the pressure of her sudden movement. "Don't think that I'm not appreciating what you're doing. You're a lifesaver. It's just that it was more exhausting than I had first thought."

"It's tougher than it looks," I said, my voice warmer, but the sting still there to remind her about her ungratefulness. It was better if she felt a bit unsafe in the deal we made, making her more compliant to my future request, especially the ones that involved sexier costumes. I watched her disappear behind the screen, my mind busy planning the next stage.