The Model

Finally she decided to chance it. She dialed the number, fearfully. She wouldn't explore this over the phone - she decided that she would go in person. Right now she only needed to find out if they would do the kind of work she needed - she would make a visit. The telephone answered, she inquired only as to their hours of business. They were open. "I need to have some photographs made, rather special ones - I'd like to come by to discuss it and perhaps make an appointment. Could I stop by and talk to someone in an hour or so?"

"Certainly. I'll be here, and I'm the only someone who'll be here. What kind of photos do you need?" a male voice cheerily asked.

"I need some portraits, a group, all the same model. I'd like to discuss it in person, please."

"Well, come on in. We do lots of kinds of portraits. I can show you samples."

She agreed, and hung up. Her heart was racing. She had made the first step. There was no turning back. She had to make this work, because she couldn't bear the idea of going through this with yet another shop. She dressed in a conservative business suit, checked her appearance, and set off in her car.

Granger Photo was about ten miles from her home, a safe distance, she thought. It took her close to an hour to get there, with traffic and looking for the address. Finally she found it. The shop was a small one, located in a strip mall. The businesses adjoining were non threatening, a laundromat, a small dress shop, a hardware store, a small restaurant. It looked safe.

She parked and went to the shop. Nervously, she hesitated in front of it. There were sample photos in the window - she studied them. Some were small, passport picture types. Some were of weddings, some of family groups. But what caught her eye were several showing young women in artistic poses. One was dressed in a flowing gown, as she reclined on overstuffed cushions. One was in a swimsuit, but one - the one that especially attracted her attention, showed the model sitting apparently unclad on a bench, the view being from the back and showing her looking around over her bare shoulder. The thought hit her - they have done nudes!

Very nervously, hesitatingly, she looked in the shop. A man, apparently a customer, seemed to be completing a transaction. She stood, just inside the door of the shop, and waited. Behind the counter was a man, perhaps thirty five or forty, in a casual shirt. He called to her, "Can I help you, please?"

"No, not yet, please. Just finish your business. I'll wait." Fran tried to appear nonchalant. The customer seemed to be discussing some reprints, and the discussion took a a few minutes. Fran waited, nervously. Finally the customer finished and headed for the door. The man behind the counter turned to her. "Now, what can we do for you?" he began, cordially. Fran kept her silence as she watched the customer exit the shop. Only then did she respond.

"I need a set of photographs. Of a woman - I want them to be, well, a bit artistic, and they will need to be done outdoors."

"Fine. Would that be of, perhaps, your daughter?" He smiled at her. "Not exactly", Fran replied. "But show me what kind of work you can do."

"I'm Bob Granger, and I've done lots of portraits, inside and outside. Here, let me show you a few-"

Bob produced a stack of photos from under the counter. He began to explain different options for different occasions. He went into prices, options on sizes of prints, and other details. Fran listened, but really without hearing much of what he said. She was waiting for him to get to the one detail that concerned her most.

"Where do you want them made? Is it a home, or a party, or where? We've done all kinds of locations." Fran thought, and stammered a bit. "We - we want them all done in the same place, an outdoor setting. Somewhere with trees and grass, but no houses or buildings. We haven't quite settled the location, but we have some ideas."

Bob seemed a little puzzled. "Is there a special occasion? A birthday, or a wedding? Something you need them for?"

"They are for a very special use - to be used in an artistic exhibit, I hope. We want the model posed artistically, outdoors, and we're looking for a place."

Bob shrugged, and went on. Fran realized she was stretching the truth a bit, but she was not quite ready to be specific. She added, "The model will pose for a number of photos, and we will want different poses and from different angles. We will want her to be shown in some active poses, too; doing some special things - things she usually does.." Fran was treading into sensitive territory, and she was getting more embarrassed.

"You say artistic poses - do you want shots in evening gowns, or swimsuit shots, or in some special attire? We can do whatever you want. You will have to tell me where, though, when you decide."

The moment of truth, well, at least half truth, was fast approaching. Fran lowered her voice and leaned just a bit forward. "Do you photograph nudes?" she asked, her voice shaking a bit.

Bob drew back and smiled. "Yes, if your model will pose nude, we can do the pictures. I take it you want a set of artistic nudes posed outdoors, but you haven't located a suitable place."

"I guess so", Fran answered. Bob proceeded to get out a city map and suggested several possible sites. Now Fran was intensely interested. Having got past the critical question, she found the discussion easier. She noted the proposed sites, and indicated she would check them out.

"Now, about the activities. Do you an idea what she is to be posed doing?"

"I will go over that with her," Fran replied. "We want some where will be posed still, but some where she will be engaged in things she regularly does. Does it matter right now?"

"No, except if it is something unusual, like standing on a horse, I might need some special equipment to get it from the right angle."

"It will be nothing like that", Fran answered. "The activities will be done at a normal sitting or standing position, or at least that height - but we may want some close-ups of some of the action. We'll explain later!" Fran wanted to get off the subject.

Finally they agreed on a package. She was to confirm the exact site within a day or two, but they made an appointment to be at the chosen place at two in the afternoon a few days hence. She made a deposit for the contract.

"Can't wait to meet your model - this will be an interesting session, I'm sure. You're going to be there, as the chaperon?" "Yes, indeed, I'll be there!" Fran continued, "chaperon or something like that!"

The next day, Fran carefully looked over the locations Bob had proposed. Two she discarded as too close to her home. Two, in forest or park areas in the outlying areas, seemed possible. In the late afternoon she drove to each, to check them out.

One was a forested area, part of a park area, on a little used road passing through a suburban, mostly residential area. As she arrived at the suggested site, she found an unpaved road turning off into the small wooded area. She drove down it a bit, then parked and walked a short distance into the woods. Not far ahead was a small clearing, lit well even in the fading afternoon sun, but screened from all roads. No houses or other signs of civilization were visible. She decided this was the place.

Now it remained only to call Bob and confirm the site. Once this was done, she could breathe a bit easier. No, she was not ready; but the details were arranged. Even the model, though Bob was not aware of it.

Chapter 4

Fran drove, rather nervously and reluctantly, toward her destination. She dreaded the thought of what was coming, but determined to go through with she had arranged. In her car she carried only her purse and two large, two liter bottles of soft drink. She had brought the drinks in case they were needed to complete her mission. As she drove, she began to wonder if they would enough. She had no idea.

She noted the time - nearly one thirty, as she approached the expressway exit she intended to take. On leaving the house she had felt a bit bloated, but now that feeling was subsiding, as the liquid contents of her stomach were gradually absorbed. She was not thirsty, she knew. Another sensation was beginning to draw her attention, though. Although she had relieved herself just before leaving her home, she was now aware of a fullness in her bladder; the result, she knew, of the rather considerable amount of liquid she had consumed. She wondered just how much distress she would be able to tolerate in that area. Oh! An exclamation escaped her - in her concentration on her internal feelings, she had failed to take the proper exit; now she was forced to drive to the next exit and backtrack. Lost time she didn't need! She cursed herself mentally, as she recognized the discomfort that lost time was going to cause her.

Finally she was on the road to her park land appointment. Five minutes to two - she was a bit behind schedule. What would Bob think? Would he be on time? She rehearsed to herself how she was going to explain the scenario she had created. All of her skills in diplomacy were going to be tested, as she prepared for what she would need to say.

At long last she was there. She pulled off onto the side road, looking for the designated spot. Ahead, about where she had judged the location to be, a gray van had pulled off the side of the road. For a moment her heart jumped - suppose someone else was there? How could she go through with this if anyone else were in the area? Then, suppose Bob brought an assistant with him? Could she handle that?

Nervous, almost shaking, she parked near the van. A man stood beside it, apparently waiting. He wore a colorful shirt and jeans - casual attire suited to the area, she thought. She recognized him as Bob, the photographer. Would there be anyone else?

Fran got out of her car and approached Bob. She felt very uncomfortable, not just from the stress of what she was about to do, but because her bladder was quite uncomfortably full. "Good afternoon, Bob," she began, trying to seem cheerful and nonchalant.

Bob responded with formal warmth, but his eyes were going to her car, obviously looking for another occupant.

"Are you ready? This is the place we selected," she went on, her voice belying her assumed nonchalance.

"Are we ready? I'm ready. Where's your model?" Bob inquired, a bit brusquely.

The moment of truth had arrived, and Fran was ill prepared.

She blurted it out directly. "The model is here - I, I'm the model!" She stopped abruptly, standing in front of him.

Bob stared in complete astonishment. "You told me you wanted some nude photos of a female model, and that you would bring her! What are you telling me? Did she back out or change her mind? I don't quite understand!"

Fran drew a long breath. She was now starting to sweat, and she was as nervous as she had ever been. There was nothing to do but come out with the truth.

"Bob, I'm sorry - I guess I did mislead you. This is very hard for me to say, but I am the model - there never was another one. And, yes, I do want the photos, as we agreed. I owe you an apology. I suppose, we really I thought, you might not do the pictures if I told you it was me. You would think a gray haired lady posing for nude pictures would be ridiculous - I wouldn't blame you! But I do want them, and I do hope you'll go through with it. I'm very sorry; but, it's very hard for me, too!"

Bob surveyed the woman in front of him. Here was a nicely groomed lady of mature years, wearing a conservative dress, standing in an isolated wooded area, saying she wants to be photographed in the nude. He looked her over - she wore little make-up, her legs were bare, and while her dress was in good conservative taste, she hardly looked like a model. He judged her to be around a hundred fifty pounds, perhaps a bit taller than average; but her demeanor was pure nerves. Her voice was trembling, and she was pale and visibly uncomfortable, twisting and moving a bit under his gaze.

"Mrs. Merryman, have you ever done this before? I mean, have you ever posed for this kind of photography?"

"No. And please call me Fran - I don't want to be formal. No, I've never done it; but I need to-"

"It's none of my business why you want to. You are not the kind of model I usually work with for this type of photography. You're sure you want to do it? Do you know how to pose?"

Fran shook her head. "I know I'm too old for you - you expected a young woman, and I was afraid that you would think photos of a woman my age - well, without clothes - would be silly. I thought you might laugh at me. I've never done this before, never had this kind of photo done- but if you will just help me, I know I can pose. I am frightfully embarrassed about all of this, but I made a promise to get the pictures, and all I want is for you to do the best you can! I know you can't be responsible for the model!"

"Mrs. Merryman - Fran - look, I'm not going to laugh at you. I don't understand this, but I'll make any kind of photos you want. You have to do the posing, but I'll try to give you some suggestions. Do you feel all right? She look very upset!"

Fran was, indeed, fidgeting and squirming. On top of her feelings of humiliation, her bladder was getting painful. She was trying to show as little distress as possible, but she knew that problem was going to get rapidly worse, and she hadn't even explained to him why that was part of the planned scene.

"Bob, I want to get started making the photos. We need to go into place we picked out, and get ready. But I told you I wanted the model to be photographed doing some activities - I've got to explain that, too!"

Bob stood and looked at her with a slightly stunned but patient look. "And the activity is?" he inquired.

Fran steadied herself and flushed. "Peeing - urinating! Some of the pictures are to be of me - relieving myself! I know, I know - that's shocking and shameful- but I need to get pictures that way! I don't know how to pose them; they're supposed to be done in an artistic way - I've no idea how to do it, and I need help! Please try to help me- I drank a lot so I would be able to do it, and now my - well, I'm very full, down there! I need to get started, ...... What can I do?" Her voice trailed off, tears came to her eyes, and Bob could see her trembling.

"Photos of a nude lady peeing artistically? Can't say as I have had that assignment before! Look, Fran, I'll do what I can. I guess you can't wait too long. OK, let me get my stuff and let's go!"

He felt sympathy for this lady, obviously terribly embarrassed but nonetheless his customer. He gathered his camera and other equipment, and the two of them walked through the trees to the spot Fran had earlier selected. The location was absolutely private, with no one and no sign of human habitation in sight. He considered the lighting and shadows, and motioned to a spot he considered suitable. "I think you should to pose there! That should get the best effect, although we may do some in another spot later. You ready to start?"

Fran looked over the location. "Yes, wherever you want me! Should I - get ready, now?" she asked, very nervously.

"You'll have to - go ahead!" He started checking lighting and his camera settings.

Fran simply nodded, standing near a tree which she felt would be out of camera range. "I'll leave my clothes here - they won't show in the shots, will they?" she inquired, indicating her intentions.

"Fine. Just get yourself ready and move into position. I'll see how we can best pose you."

"You'll have to excuse me. I never did this before, and I hurt real bad, down there, because I'm so full...", she tried to explain, as she began to disrobe.

Fran took off her shoes, and set them on the ground. In bare feet, she began to unbutton her dark blue dress. She turned her back to Bob as she did so. She folded the dress carefully and hung it on a tree branch. She reached behind her and unhooked her brassiere, slipping it off and placing it on the tree also. With a deep breath, she bent over, pulled down her panties, and laid them on top of the dress. Hesitatingly, shaking a bit, she turned to face Bob, covering her breasts with her hands. Her bare body now faced him, only the breasts partly concealed. Her pubic area, with its thick growth of dark hair was exposed to his view. She might have had a bit of a paunch ordinarily, but today she had a noticeable abdominal bulge.

"I think I'm ready - I don't think there's anything left to take off- oh, wait a minute!" She stopped, took off her wrist watch, and hung it on her dress.

"You were pretty thorough - you don't want shoes or anything on?" he asked her.

"I want the photos nude - that means nothing on. And, please, don't try to hide anything - I want everything to show - I don't expect miracles, but I want to look , well, not beautiful but as graceful as I can! But please hurry - I really can't hold myself much longer!"

"You'll have to drop the hands, then", Bob indicated. she complied. Her breasts fell noticeably as she removed their support. She felt terribly, terribly, embarrassed and vulnerable.

She moved to the position Bob had earlier indicated. Not quite kinowing what to do, she stood, rather stiffly, hands at her sides. Bob eyed her critically. She was not only stiff, she was visibly shaking. Sweat was visible on her face. It ran down her cheeks. Her breasts hung, unsupported, drooping noticeably, but with both nipples erect and pointing slightly downweard. Her legs were pressed tightly together, her genital area partly hidden by the compression of her legs.

Bob shhok his head. This lady was obviously not an experienced model. "Fran, you need to loosen up a little - you look too stiff! Try to relax!" he called to her.

She tried. It wasn't working. "I'm trying - but, understand, I've never done anything like this before. I never posed without my clothes on - I feel so - well, exposed or whatever - and my bladder hurts so bad, it's about to burst!" She shook her head, tears streaming from her eyes. She had indeed asked for this, but the reality was hard to handle. Never before had she felt so naked and vulnerable, and not in any recent time had she held such a full bladder. The pain in her bottom was getting to be morethan she could handle.

"Fran, try to relax - you look all tensed up! Here - will you let me position you in a better pose? If you do want these pictures, you want to at least look graceful, don't you? Come on, let me help you!"

He moved toward her. She, nervous and sweating profusely, fearfully accepted his gentle touch.

He touched her gently on the arms and shoulder. and positioned her for the first pose; her head thrown back a bit, her legs apart, one hand on her hip, the other raised. He commented to her, "I like it - and, well, everything does show!" His reference was obviously to her exposed breasts and her genital area, both prominently displayed. He reflected that she wasn't really in bad shape, and although her body showed some accumulated flaws, it was still very definitely female and there was a certain aspect of erotic grace evident in her exposed body.

She fidgeted noticeably and he had to tell her, "I realize you're quite uncomfortable, but you need to be still for me to get these. Try to relax!" She still felt tensed, her abdominal muscles clenched as she tried to restrain her overly full bladder.

He made three shots of her, then asked, "Are you ready to go to the next part - the activity?"

"I have to - it's awfully hard for me to hold- to wait much longer. How shall I do it?"

"Do you think you can shoot a stream? I don't know how it's going to look?"

"I don't know - I never tried to do this. I never did it - not in front of someone - I don't know.." She was puzzled at her own capabilities.