A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 16

"Doin' great! Now stay like you are, but look down to where you're sitting on the edge." She did and gasped as Barry took more photos. The underwear had retreated between her labia, the black band of fabric lewdly pushing her outer lips into puffy ridges.

"It looks really sexy," Barry assured her, reading her mind. "But if you want to, umm, adjust that, I can get some photos that way, too, and let you decide which ones you like better."

Gwen quickly reached between her legs and did her best to pull the offending material out of her, suddenly embarrassed that she was performing this very private act in front of a stranger.

"Let's get a few more poses around the room," Barry offered, "and then if you want, we can just get rid of them. Sandy, can you touch up her cheeks just a little? She's losing a little color there."

"You're doing great, Gwen," the stylist reassured her as she worked. "Don't be afraid to let all your sexiness come out. The only people who will see it are our husbands and me, and I can take care of my husband. Show yours what he's got."

An accidental glance in a nearby mirror froze her. It was not her who was looking back, it was the Slut, a real-life, full-size version of the lustful, perverted creature that had sat on her shoulder all these years. The outfit, the look, the attitude...she had become the Slut. The idea thrilled her. The feeling in the pit of her stomach began to recede as the urge to make her husband—and the man with the camera—want her grew.

Barry posed her about the room for quite a while, a stockinged foot and leg balanced on a hassock as she adjusted the top, bending over the bed to pull down the covers while her breasts strained to pop loose from their restraints, her ruby-red lips pressed against the clear glass of the champagne flute while she sipped.

"You're a natural," he said softly as he looked down at the camera to change a setting. "I can see your equestrian training in the way you move and present yourself."

"You're too kind." She remembered how she had been taught the style and poise Barry was seeing, and how she had worn even less then. The arousal that sprang from the memory conflicted with the shame that she had allowed it to happen in the first place.

"So, what do you think? Want to try it without the undies?"

Her thoughts snapped back to the present. "Uh, I don't know, if you think we should..." You liar, the Slut laughed. You know you want to show this guy everything. Gwen had to admit that was true, but she also wished that the photographer would just tell her what to do and not give her a choice in the matter. It just seemed so much easier that way...

"I do. Remember, this is all about you. If you don't like the idea, then you don't have to."

"I guess we can try it," she said after pausing long enough to pretend she had weighed her options.

Sandra stepped towards her. "I can take them for you."

With a deep breath, Gwen pushed them down her legs, careful not to catch her stockings with her fingers, frantically trying to balance on one shoe while disentangling the fabric from the other heel. Sandra kneeled, her face just inches from Gwen's shaven sex, and reached to help her. The struggling woman gratefully accepted the offer, hands hastily forming a protective shield over her crotch in a false show of modesty while lifting each foot just enough for the stylist to finish the job she had started.

"Great. Why don't you sit down at the dressing table?" She sat, her back to him, knees tightly pressed together and hands folded primly in her lap.

"I admire your posture, Gwen, but let it down a bit, pretend you're relaxed," Barry directed with a touch of a laugh in his voice. She did her best, letting her shoulders slump as much as her training would allow while the Slut stared back at her from the mirror.

The camera clicked several times. "Better. OK, now bring your knees out just a little and put your hands on the edge of the chair." More shots were taken from angles all about her, Barry moving her gaze from side to side, up and down. The process was repeated several times, legs opening wider while the camera clicked.

"Great! Now, put your hands palms down between your legs and lean forward a bit." The camera clicked as the photographer moved about her. "Push your chest out a little. Oh yeah, that's really nice. OK, stand up." Gwen quickly did as instructed, her hands again covering her bare sex. "Now, sit down facing me and put your hands on top of the back of the chair." She hesitated. To do so would mean straddling the seat with her legs completely open to him. Time to give him a show, she decided, and did as asked, the wood-framed back only partially obscuring her sex. Barry continued to move about her, going down on one knee before rising again, camera always at his eye.

"OK, lean forward and put your chin on the top of the back, and put your hands on the side." He soon got the look he needed and pressed the button.

"Got it! So, how about a few on the bed?"

Gwen stood and began to climb on to the duvet-covered mattress, knowing that her bare bottom and what lay between her thighs was pointing directly at the clicking camera as she moved. More shots were taken of her on her stomach and side, the comforter discretely covering her most private areas.

"OK Gwen, almost done. Why don't you roll over on your back and get yourself so your head hangs over the side?"

She hesitated a bit before complying, unsure where this was leading to, but finally settled into what she thought he wanted, legs crossed at the ankles while her hands modestly covered the junction of her thighs. Her neck immediately felt the strain of her position and blood rushed to her head while Barry hurried to the other side of the bed. She startled as his massive, callused hand grabbed her ankle and pushed it back to crook her leg at the knee. Directing her to place her hands at her side, he returned to where she hung upside down and snapped away.

"Hold on, I know that's not really comfortable, almost done...good! Now, unhook the front of your corset—don't open it, let it just lay on you."

Gwen managed to do as he asked, the last hook undone as he stepped forward and arranged the now loose garment across her breasts while leaving her bare from neck down to what remained of her thatch, his fingers casually brushing against skin only her husband had ever touched. Satisfied, he resumed shooting from all possible angles.

"Done! That was incredible. Why don't you take a break for lunch and we'll set up the second location?"

She fastened the corset about her before rising, Sandra waiting for her with Natalie's robe as she tried to gracefully climb off the bed.

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon...Norman and Steven have lunch waiting for you out on the porch." Gwen nodded. Noon! They had been at this for three hours! It had only seemed like a few minutes!

"Guess I'll get changed and go on out there," she replied, suddenly realizing her anxiety had been replaced by hunger, both physical and sexual.

"Nah, don't bother," the tall blonde told her. "You'll need to get changed again when we're ready for you. It's probably just you and Natalie out there, anyways. Just take the corset off if you want to be more comfortable."

Gwen decided that a little cover was better than none at all and left the red badge of her sluttiness on underneath the robe. A feeling of exhilaration after the first drop of this roller coaster ride propelled her down the hallway and out the front door, the Lady still counseling caution that she keep an eye out for anyone who might see her so scantily clad. She found her sister-in-law sitting on the porch, rocking, salads, bread, and wine set on a nearby table.

"How'd it go?"

"I guess it went OK," Gwen replied, not quite ready to admit the thrill she had gotten from posing. "But I think Barry will be the judge of that."

"You and Tim will be the judge of that," Natalie reminded her. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved." The women sat down and quickly downed the wine that had been poured for them and refilled their glasses before beginning on their meals.

"I snuck a peek or two while you were in there," Natalie admitted between forkfuls of salad. "You looked hot!"

"Well, I guess it was a little warm in there..."

Her sister-in-law laughed. "Not the weather. You. As in, every hetero guy in the county would have trouble keeping it in their pants. Hell, I had less than pure thoughts about you."

"Me?"

"You. So, Barry and Sandra getting the next shoot ready?"

Gwen paused, the slut finding the idea that Natalie might have found her sexually attractive appealing, the Lady, appalling. The feel of a breeze working its way under her robe to tickle her bare thighs only highlighted the erotic situation she found herself in. "Yes, they said they'd come get me."

She ate at a speed she knew was most unladylike, her stomach having its way this time. She had reached the bottom of her bowl and downed a slice of bread when the sound of the big man stomping down the hall echoed out to where they sat. His imposing frame came through the screen door a moment later, the hinges squeaking in protest as he pushed through.

"Gwen, I was just looking at some of the work from this morning on my laptop. They're incredible!"

"I know you're supposed to say that," she said with a blush. "But thank you—I know how good you are by looking at your portfolios."

"It's easy to do good work with good material, and you're we pros call really, really, good. I'm really excited to get this next one started—after you've finished lunch, of course," he added hurriedly.

"I'm finished," she replied, pushing her plate away to emphasize her declaration. "So we might as well get going so I can put my clothes back on."

Barry laughed. "You'll have to lose some more before you get to that point. Why don't you head back to the room and Sandra can help you get ready."

"I'll come, too," Natalie announced as she stood. "I wanna see if what I brought for her works."

She led the way, Gwen following along, Barry behind them until he reached a door marked 'private' on the right about halfway down the hall. He opened it and disappeared into the room behind it while Natalie continued on down to where their things were.

Gwen turned the corner to find her sister-in-law pulling Tim's old shirt out of the bag. It was carefully laid it on the bed before a leather tool belt was withdrawn, the gleaming leather strap and holsters looking like had hardly been used. A lacy white pair of underwear was removed from a side pocket. The anxiety began to build again as the roller coaster climbed the next hill. Not so bad as the morning, and certainly not so bad as yesterday, but it was there still.

Sandra sat the bewildered woman and began to remove her makeup.

"Won't what I had on work?" She asked the tall blonde.

You're going to need something a little more waterproof," she said with a smile.

"Waterproof? Where am I going next? And Natalie, where did you get the toolbelt? That doesn't look like one of Tim's?"

Her sister-in-law spoke up when Sandra made it obvious she wouldn't be answering. "It's Adam's. You know how he is—he gets these occasional delusions that he's a handyman, starts a project, and then realizes he's better at lawyerin' than plumbin'. So I let him play manly man and fix my plumbing, and he forgets all about it for a while."

The stylist snickered. "Men are so easily distracted by the magic snake drain between our legs."

Gwen blushed but smiled appreciatively at the bawdy comments.

The fresh application of makeup was soon finished, her hair was removed from its more formal setting and pulled into a ponytail, and Gwen was again standing nude in front of the two women. "Undies, toolbelt, then the shirt," Natalie announced. The underwear was as lacy as the pair she had worn in the morning, but more full cut, her cheeks at least partially covered despite the fact it rode high on her waist. She tried to protest over the placement of the leather belt, pointing out that it was correctly worn over the pants, but Natalie reminded her she wouldn't be wearing any of those today. The shirt was as she remembered it from the day she had tried it on, soft and smelling of laundry detergent and her husband. Its bottom rode high on her thighs, hanging low enough to cover her panties. Natalie fastened a single button near her navel to keep it from coming apart altogether.

Satisfied, Sandra led the way out of the room and to the door Barry had disappeared behind. Gwen stepped through to find a large living room, exquisitely decorated, photos of the owners evident on shelves and walls. This must be their part of the house, she thought as she followed the women down a short hallway. She stepped into a huge bathroom, as large as her bedroom at home, sunlight streaming through windows and skylights. Barry was already there, adjusting a lone light stand off to the side.

"The boys gave me permission to use their living area for this one," the big man said as he turned to greet them. "Oh yes, this will work just fine," he murmured as he sized up the woman in the oversized shirt. "Gwen, I hope you don't mind, but Natalie and I thought it might be fun to do something a little bit sillier than maybe you're used to. It will still be sexy as all get out, don't worry, but with your husband being a plumber, well we thought we might have some fun with that. Natalie said you can be a bit serious sometimes, so you might have to step outside that a little. Are you up for it?"

Her anxiety heightened as the ride climbed to another crest. "What do I have to do?"

Barry smiled. "Be a plumber, of course."

"But I'm not a plumber! I run the office!"

"You're not going to actually be doing any work. We're just going to make it look like the hottest, sexiest plumber in the world is on the job."

She looked over at a beaming Natalie. "C'mon Gwen, you can do it."

She conceded with a sigh. "Alright, what do I do?"

"Be as sexy as you dare, then go one step further."

"I'll try, but what do I do?"

"For starters, go to the sink and play with the faucets a bit."

She moved over to the massive granite countertop and tentatively placed a hand on the black iron cold water handle. She felt so silly doing this, but turned it on and off, then the hot water, all while Barry moved about her shooting. There was the sound of water hitting the clawfoot tub behind her.

"Good, good, now bend over so you can look up into the faucet, like something's keeping the water from coming out."

I'd unscrew the aerator first, she thought to herself, but complied anyways as the photographer now moved behind her to capture her presented rear as it peeked out from underneath the tails of the shirt.

"Turn to the left a bit, but keep looking underneath." She did, and could feel how the shirt had fallen away from her chest, partially revealing her dangling breast.

Barry finally pronounced himself satisfied with the pose. He opened the door to the cabinet beneath the countertop. "OK Gwen, why don't you bend way over and look down in there?" The space was clean, if unspectacular, she decided. Copper tubing, a lack of PVC, good materials. She might not be a plumber, but years of experience had taught her the products she was placing orders for.

"Pardon the hands," she heard the photographer say as the shirt was pushed up her back just enough to reveal all of her white panties. She gasped as they were partially tugged off her hips.

"Sorry, sorry," Barry said from behind her. "I'm going for my take on plumber's butt." She held the pose while he snapped away, at one point lying his massive frame on the floor to capture the view between her legs and up her shirt as it fell away from her.

"I like it," he said as he scrambled to his feet. "OK, why don't you lie on your back and get a really good look under that sink? Just lie your head on the towel that's inside and pretend you're working up in there." She took the position, legs firmly together as she looked up and identified the various parts of the drain assembly.

"OK," Barry said slowly. "Bring your knees up and spread your legs like you're getting good leverage." She smiled grimly to herself. He might call it leverage, but she knew it as the position she and Tim had made babies in. Even with her underwear, it felt so revealing, so nasty to be showing it to this man, as if it were a thinly veiled invitation.

"Spread your legs some more,' he called out, and she did so, past where Tim would fit between them comfortably. She could hear the camera clicking. "OK, you, uhh, can adjust your undies now...I'd do it for you, but my wife would slap me."

"Damn right!" she heard the stylist call out, and Gwen hurriedly ran a finger down each edge of the crotch to pull them out of her slit. The camera continued to whir and click.

"Great! OK, c'mon out of there. The shower needs work, too."

Gwen climbed to her feet to find the glass door to the oversized stall already open, Barry standing next to it. "I apologize in advance if it gets a little tight in there. It's a big stall, but I'm a big guy..." She smiled her understanding. "So, take one of those wrenches in your belt and pretend you're adjusting the showerhead," he coached as she entered.

She smiled to herself. These were not the right wrenches for this job. Still, she played along, standing on tiptoes to reach the offending nut, careful not to scratch the finish. "OK, now I'm going to reach around you and turn on the water. You're gonna get wet. I ran it before you came in, so it should be warm, but I want you to hold the pose until I say so, alright? And try not to scrunch your face up." The promised hand slid by her breast before she could object, and the stream of water hit her squarely in the forehead.

"Great, great," he called out. "Tilt your head up just a little so the water is right in your face." Gwen felt foolish to be in the running shower, any plumber worth their salt would have turned off the water to the bathroom first, but she did as instructed, the spray splashing her, soaking the shirt. It seemed like some sort of water torture, but she gamely held her ground. The hand again snaked by her and stopped the flow. "Nice job! Now take off the shirt."

Gwen looked back over her shoulder in mild shock at the direct instruction, already reasoning that she could not possibly refuse his directive. With her back to the photographer, she undid the lone button and slid the sodden garment off her shoulders. Barry whisked it away from her. "OK, back to that same pose." The hand slid by her again, dangerously close to the bare skin of her breast, and the flow of water started. She was ready for it this time, patiently waiting for the all-clear signal.

The hand returned and the water stopped again. "I am loving this!" the big man announced emphatically. Gwen decided he meant the photos rather than the quick feels of her skin. Barry handed her a small towel. "Dry your face off, but leave the rest wet, and c'mon out of there." She followed once he had vacated the doorway and she had folded a protective arm over her breasts. "OK, why don't you move over to the tub." She saw that while she had been posing, Sandra had been busy preparing a bubble bath.

"I want you to stand next to the tub, your back to me, and take off the toolbelt. Just drop it where you are." Gwen made sure she had her back to the man before removing her arm from her chest, more as an attempt at teasing than modesty. The belt was released and gently dropped.

"Now, slide those undies down, slowly, and leave them on the belt." This too was done, Gwen reveling in the fact she was completely naked in front of this strange man. The idea he might have something growing in appreciation danced in her mind.