Photo Strip
Chapter One: The Interview
My girl friend had walked out on me a couple of weeks ago, leaving me with a problem paying for our flat on one income. I'd spent every day since scouring the papers for a way to make a bit of extra cash. The advert in the evening paper seemed innocent enough: "Wanted - Part time (evening) models any age, any sex, for glossy magazine photo-story role-playing sessions. No experience necessary, training given. Good rates." Sounded like little effort and reasonable money. I rang the phone number in the ad.
A female voice answered, warm and friendly enough. "Why not come in and see us right away!" she suggested, and gave an address in town.
I put the phone down and panicked. I looked a mess. Better look my best if I was to be a photographic model, but I was expected imminently, and it would be a race against time. I showered and changed into my smartest jeans and latest Italian shirt. Fifteen minutes later I found myself in a narrow alley off the High Street, ringing a doorbell. A smartly dressed young man in his thirties answered it. "You must be Ian!" he smiled. "Follow me!" and led the way down a dark staircase to the basement, along a corridor, and into a smartly furnished office. "I'm Clive and this is Jane," he said, introducing an attractive woman in her early forties, sitting behind a desk "Take your jacket off, take a seat, and make yourself at home!" said Jane. The young man motioned me to a two-seater settee in the corner.
Jane came over carrying a sheaf of papers, and sat beside me. She explained that they had just landed a contract to produce a number of photo stories. "Like these," she said, handing me a couple of glossy sheets. I took a look. One was obviously a late teens love story, photos with word bubbles of a girl saying to her boy friend: "Come back to my place!" The next frame showed them kissing on the front room settee, then him taking her blouse off. Finally, with his hand clutching her bra, Mum walks in with a look of thunder on her face, in a frame bearing the legend 'continued...' The other photo strip was obviously targeted at young women, with a story featuring a number of men in shorts, working out in a gym. That sort of thing.
"These are incomplete drafts for some of the stories, which we used in our bid." Explained Jane. "Our contract is for at least ten stories in each of eight publications catering for widely varying tastes," said Clive. "There's plenty of work, so if you like the sound of it and can pass a simple photographic test to show you can pose without oozing embarrassment and self-consciousness, it will just be a matter of casting you for suitable roles!" "What do you think?" asked Jane. "Sounds fine!" I agreed.
"OK! No time like the present! How do you feel about re-enacting a part of that love story for the photo test?" suggested Jane. "No problem, I'll give it a go!" I replied, enthusiastically. "OK, then undo Jane's blouse, and take it off" instructed Clive, snapping away as the buttons popped. "Now put one arm round her, and cup one of her breasts with the other hand." Clive took a few more shots from different angles. "Now give her a long kiss, keeping your hand on her bra," said Clive, still snapping away. "You've done well, all quite natural, no sign of embarrassment so far!" congratulated Clive.
Without warning, Jane slid her hand down to rest it on my thigh, and started gently moving it up and down the inside of my leg, from knee to crotch. I jumped, and looked concerned. "This is part of a pepped up alternative version for a soft porn magazine," explained Clive. "You're looking worried, Ian. Smile and relax!" Jane took her hand off my thigh, and unzipped my jeans. She laid her hand firmly my white cotton underpants, and gently squeezed. I felt a slight stirring within. "No good," complained Clive. "The jeans are so tight the fly doesn't open wide enough to get a view of what your hand is resting on. Ian, you'll have to take your trousers off."
Highly embarrassed now, I had to remove my shoes first, and then my jeans. As I sat down Jane unbuttoned my shirt. There I was, close up to her, wearing nothing but a scanty pair of cotton underpants, and a shirt open all down the front. "Off you go, again!" said Clive. I cupped Jane's bra with my left hand, whilst her left hand cupped the front of my tangas. Clive snapped away.
"Fondle her breast inside her bra, please," called Clive. I felt the delicious touch of her nipple as I caressed her, and felt relieved that she had removed her hand from me, as I was beginning to swell noticeably now. I should have known better. The hand returned, this time sliding slowly down the inside of my underpants, and started to stroke my prick. I decided to take the law into my own hands, and undid her bra strap. Her bra fell to the floor, revealing a very nice pert pair of tits. Jane squealed, and went to pick it up. At least she let go of my cock. Clive decided it best to declare an end to the test session, and I got dressed quickly, with great relief..
We went back into the office, and Clive and Jane reviewed the photos on a PC. "You look very natural in all of them. We're glad to be able to offer you a contract!" smiled Clive, pulling out a document from the desk, and filling in my name at the top. "This contracts you to work for us for a minimum of 12 hours a week for a minimum of four weeks, for the sum of œ750. You will be engaged on a variety of photo stories for more than one magazine." I took a pen and went to sign it. "Before you do," warned Clive. "I must tell you that we have a very tight contract and timescale to produce these strips, so there is a penalty clause if you fail to put in the hours stipulated, or to pose as required for the roles assigned." "If I can pose with Jane's hands down my pants I think I can cope with any photos you might take for publication!" I grinned, and signed both copies.
We all shook hands. "OK then," said Jane. "Just your measurements to take now, so that if any of your roles call for special costumes, we can pick the right size from our wardrobe. Follow Clive!" she added, and he led me down the corridor to a props room, with racks of clothes of all different descriptionson hangers, and a couple of trunks. In the corner were a couple of changing cubicles. Two facing walls were completely mirrored. Clive stood me against a wall with a measuring device, and took my height. "Five feet ten inches! Good!" he said, writing it down on a form on the clip board he had brought along with him. Then he ran the tape around my neck, and wrote another measurement down. "Right arm outstretched!" he instructed, and measured the length of my arm from shoulder to the cuff of my jacket. "Now for your chest, waist, and leg lengths," he said. "We want to get these accurate in case you need to wear anything tight, so strip, please." I undressed down to my underpants, and he measured my chest and waist.
"Pants off, please, for your hip measurement," he asked. Reluctantly I removed my pants, and stood there in the nude. Clive wrapped the tape around me, not being particularly careful as he passed it over my cock. "Legs apart, please," and he pressed the end of the tape hard against the underside of my bare balls, and measured my inside leg. Then he passed the tape between the very top of my thigh, and the side of my balls. "In case you need tights," he explained, "We need the girth of the leg." I was just about to get dressed, when he took hold of my prick, and measured its girth. "We need these measurements too, for casting purposes," he explained, next measuring the length of my limp penis. "How long are you with a hard on?" he asked. "I've really no idea!" I exclaimed. "Well, we need to know. I'd better help you get one," he suggested. I gave him a withering look, took the tape from him, and went into one of the changing cubicles. A couple of minutes later, after I had taken the measurement and subsided again, I emerged. "Five and a half inches!" I told him, and got my clothes back on.
We went back to Jane's office. "We should have recruited our other 'stars' by next week, so your first appointment will be on Monday evening, for the training session." They both shook me by the hand, and I said "See you Monday, then," as I left.
To be continued ......