"Excuse me, I see you have a baby. Can I ask you how old he or she is?"
"She's just three months."
"She looks a beauty; I'll bet she'll grow-up to be a stunner like her mom. I assume you are her mom?"
"Yes she's mine. Sorry, you'll have to excuse me; I have to get on with my shopping now."
"No please don't go yet, I'm sure we have something that will interest you. Wouldn't you like a year's supply of essentials for your baby?"
"What kind of essentials?"
"There's a whole range. Powdered milk, nappies (diapers), baby wipes, baby food in jars, and our new slimming powder."
"Slimming powder for a baby? You've got to be joking?"
"No. We're doing the preparatory work for an advertising campaign for a slimming powder that's helps women loose weight after having a baby. It's made by Gluxo; they're the biggest baby food manufacturer in UK. And you are just the ideal type of woman we're looking for."
"But I've never even heard of this slimming stuff, let alone used it."
"That doesn't matter at all, all that matters is, that you've had a baby in the last six months, and you've got your sexy figure back already. And you fit both of those requirements."
"But what would I be expected to do?"
"First of all, if you sign-up for a days screen test, you get this list of baby products for a year free. And that is irrespective of whether you are used in any advertising. But if you are the one that is selected, it could be worth fifty to a hundred grand, maybe more if other people start using you."
"You're kidding me?"
"No. this is a genuine chance in a lifetime. And like I said even if they don't use you, you still get a years supply of baby stuff. I'll bet that comes to a fair old sum by itself."
"So let me get this straight. If I go for this screen test, I get all that stuff on the list for a year free of charge?"
"Yes. That's it."
"But what does this screen test entail, how long does it take, and where do I have to go to take it?"
"We call it a screen test, but really it's just a simple photo shoot. It takes about four hours. And if you're interested in doing it, we'll take you now. It's about fifty minute's drive, so you can be home by about half past three. But you'll need to get someone to look after baby for you; we wouldn't be able to cope with a baby."
"What you'd want me to go now?"
"Yes. I'm afraid its one of those things you have to grab quickly."
"I'll have to phone my husband to see what he thinks."
"That's up to you. But I know what he'll say. My honest advice is. If you want to do it, just grab the opportunity while you've got the chance. I'm not exaggerating when I say; this is a once in a lifetime chance. If you don't take it, then it's something you'll look back at in the future, and kick yourself for missing."
"But why do you say my husband won't want me to do it?"
"It's a male thing. He'll realise that if you do get selected, you'll be the main bread-winner. Most men can't handle their wife being more important than them. And they don't like other men looking at their wife's body."
"Looking at my body? Why what exactly would I be wearing?"
"For the photo shoot, you'll have your picture taken in just about every style of clothes. That's the main reason we need to take you to our studio."
"But when you say every style, will I be expected to have my picture taken in the nude?"
"No. Don't be silly. There will be some shots in modest underwear, and swimming costumes, but nothing rude or offensive. Now I'm sorry to rush you, but if you are interested, we need to make plans about finding someone to look after your baby. And if your not, then I'm sorry we took-up so much of your time."
So here I was, stood in the entrance to a shopping mall, thirty-five years old, and my first baby sleeping blissfully in her buggy. I had only seconds to decide if I should go with these men and see what comes out of it. Or phone my husband, and let him choose. But why should he know any better than me? At least I could see these men, talk to them, and make a judgement as to whether they look trustworthy. They were stood here in very posh suits, with all the genuine looking paperwork, and ID badges with their photos on their lapels. Shit! If I phone him and he says no, then I can't go against him. But if I don't do this now, they are right; I'll regret missing this opportunity for the rest of my boring life.
"You promise me it's not a con trick?"
"Don't be silly. Would we be stood here in a shopping mall?"
"And this photo shoot thing, the skimpiest thing I'll be expected to wear is a normal swimming costume?"
"As I said there will be all types of clothes that you'll be photographed in. But the most revealing will be a bikini. And I'm sure you've worn one of those before on the beach."
"Ok. I hope I'm doing the right thing. I'll take baby back to my car, and we can drop her off at my mom's. Then I'll follow you."
"Ok we'll follow you to your mom's, but then if you go back to your place, you can leave your car there. You can come with us, there's no need to waste your fuel, were in a company vehicle, might as well let them foot the bill."
"What about me getting home?"
"No problem, we'll bring you, its all part of the service."
"Ok. I'm in the little red Fiat over there."
"Ok we're in the Blue Jag, so I don't think we'll have any trouble keeping-up with you."
As I drove down the road towards my mom's house, my mind was racing; was I doing the right thing. Would I be all embarrassed, and not be able to pose sexily enough? No, I've been topless on the beach when we went on holiday, and when you do that, you've got hundreds of men ogling at you. This was my chance, I'm thirty-five, and I certainly won't get another chance to be looked at sexily again. Yes I am doing the right thing. I'm gonna give this my best shot, try not to be shy, and really show these men how sexy a woman who has just had a baby can look. But what do I tell my mom? And my husband, how much do I tell him? Well its decision time, I'm at my mom's house. As I walk up the path, she has already seen me, and the front door is opening.
"Brenda. This is a nice surprise; to what do I owe this pleasure. Don't tell me, you want me to look after Lisa while you go shopping."
"You guessed it. Do you mind?"
"No, of-course not. Are you going anywhere special?"
"Not really, I'm going to the big super-store park, to look at new kitchens. And you know what it's like dragging the baby around with you."
"You're going on your own?"
"Yes I just want to get a look by myself, before I go around with Harry. You know what he's like; he'll just want to see the cheapest stuff."
"Any idea how long you'll be?"
"All day I'm afraid, will that be alright?"
"Yes. You can be as long as you like. Is all her stuff in the bag?"
"Yes. Everything is there. I should be back by half-three, four at the latest. Thanks mom." I kissed baby. "Bye then, see you later."
Now I headed for my house, and was soon parking my car in the drive and locking it up. I walked to where there big shiny new Jag was parked a few doors down the street. I leaned towards the window of the front passenger door, all the glass was tinted, and I couldn't see inside at all. I was about to rap my knuckles on the window, when it majestically slid down. "Get in the back."
"I was just going to ask if I need to bring anything?"
"Just that sexy little body of yours." I looked through the open window, and I could see the back seat was empty; there were only the two men in the car. They were the ones who I'd been talking to earlier; one was driving, and the other in the front passenger seat. This was my last chance to back out, but it all appeared to be genuine, so I opened the back door and climbed in.
The car set off, and we were soon on the motorway, speeding along in the outside lane. It felt like we were only going slowly, but the speed we were passing other cars was like lightning. They'd passed me a folder with several very wordy documents that all needed signing. I started reading the first one, and the legal jargon soon had my head spinning. So I just asked what each one was for, and signed them all without reading them and then handed them back. Whilst I was leaning forward to hand the folder back, I caught a glimpse of the Speedo, we were doing 135MPH! I'd never been that fast in my life, and it felt smoother than my car at 30MPH. We were travelling on the motorway for at least half an hour, and then we set out into what looked like moorland country. The roads got smaller, until we were in very desolate country, on single track roads.
"Where is this studio we're going to?"
"At the moment it's in nowhere land. What we've got is a big lorry that converts into a mobile studio. It's like those things you see at exhibitions, once you park up, all the sides open and it makes a complete studio. So because some of the team are working the west side of the country, some on the east, and we're doing the middle, they park up in a central place so we can all get to it."
"I suppose that makes sense. But if this is central, and we've travelled miles to get here, that means your team of people must be spread over a wide area?"
"That's right, this week we're covering the whole middle section of the country, from west to east coast."
I began to think what a big important event this was that I'd been lucky enough to get a chance to join in with. And then I started dreaming of what it could mean if I actually got selected to do the advert. At this point I kept telling myself I'd got to be grown-up about this. No school girl shyness, I'm a grown woman, and I needed to try to make an impression. Then the car slowed down, and we were pulling up next to a big exhibition type lorry like he'd described.
Now as I walked these last few steps, I could feel the butterflies in my tummy. Up the steps we went, and once inside, it was difficult to believe this was just a mobile office. They led me up to a big desk where an older man was sitting reading an official looking document. He looked up over the top of his glasses, and his face turned to a big beaming smile. He immediately put the document down, and reached out his arm to shake hands as he got to his feet.
"Why hello. You must be Brenda. I must say I thought they were exaggerating when they told me how sexy looking you were, but now I see you're even hotter than they described."
I blushed at this compliment. It in some way unnerved me. If they were telling me I was good looking, pretty, or something similar, it would be normal. But descriptions like sexy, and hot. These didn't seem to fit with the image of a baby food manufacturers advertising. But I shrugged this off, thinking maybe these people are nothing to do with the food makers, they're just advertising people, and they maybe all talk this way.
He'd now got the folder with the documents I'd been filling in, and he was looking through it. "Right you've filled in the basic measurements and your weight. Here is a simple little costume, it's not very fancy, but it's nice thin stretchy material, so it fits all sizes. If you go into that room over there, you can strip off, and put this on. Then I'll be able to confirm your measurements and weight, and fill in these few other measurements." With that he handed me this small folded piece of material, it hardly looked big enough to make a handkerchief, let alone a costume.
As soon as I got inside the room I looked for a lock on the door, but there wasn't one. I had to tell myself I was being silly. Come-on, they're not going to walk in on you. I stripped off, and pulled on this stretchy costume. Like he said one size fits all, and it did. But it was cut very high, each leg right up to the waist line, and a very narrow piece of material going down to form a gusset. It had absolutely no padding or double thickness anywhere. My first reaction was that I dare not leave the room wearing just this costume. But once again I thought to myself this is what you're here for; they want to see your body, so out I went.
"Oh yes!" There was a chorus of comments, all very complementary, even if some of them bordered on the improper side. "Ok my dear; let's have you on these scales." I stepped onto the scales. "Nine seven. That's super. Ok I've just got to do some measurements. Shoulders' first." He wrapped the tape measure around my shoulders, and as he read off the measurement, one of the other men wrote it down on the form. "Now bust." He repeated this process, measuring all kinds of things like a dress maker would do. He'd finished all my upper body, and then he said. "Right my dear. These next few are the ones that sometimes worry you ladies, especially if you're new to this game. I've got to get the measurement of the tops of your legs, and inner leg length. So first I'll need one leg stood up straight, and the other one nice and wide out of the way. I usually suggest you stand by my desk, and use the desk to balance. Then stretch your left leg across onto that chair. Do you think you can do that for me?"
"I'll try." I did as he'd asked. I was stood upright, but my left leg was almost horizontal, leaving my crotch fully exposed.
"That's a good girl. Now you do realise when I take this measurement, my hand will make contact with your, ahem, well I'll say flesh. But you know what I mean. I know you've signed the disclaimer papers, but maybe you didn't realise that's what you'd agreed to. So just to be sure, are you ok with me touching you?"
Now I had no idea I'd signed anything that allowed him to touch me, as he put it. But it was obvious if he was going to get an accurate measurement of my inner leg length, he'd have to get his measure, hence his fingers, up into my crotch. And he had gone to the trouble of asking if it was ok, so he must be genuine.
"Yes you do what you need to."
"I'm just going to get John to steady you, is that ok?"
"I don't think I need steadying."
"I'd feel happier if he did."
"Well ok, but I'm sure it's not necessary."
"Come-on then John she said its ok." One of the men, the one who'd driven the car, came up and stood right up close behind me, his body pushing up against my back. He wrapped his arm around me, placing his big hand on my tummy, and he pulled me tightly to his body. The man in-charge then asked, "Is that ok, not too tight?"
"Yes its ok. But why does he need to hold me?"
"You realise you are here to be assessed? And that doesn't just mean taking photos; it's your general cooperation and behaviour."
"Yes I guess so."
"Well this is part of that assessment. Imagine; if we were in some exotic location, and we needed to hold you over a dangerous cliff edge. Then it would be no good at all if you got upset, just because someone put their hands on you while trying to make sure you were safe. We need to know you'll do what ever is necessary without hesitation. So are you ok with John holding you?"
"Yes, of course. I just couldn't think why he was doing it. But now you've explained."
"Ok now I'm going to ask Richard to come and hold your ankle, is that ok?" This seemed an unusual request, and obviously once he'd taken hold of my ankle, I'd be restrained in a very vulnerable position.
But as he said, they were just testing me. "Yes, its ok."
"You heard her Richard. Make sure you've got a good tight hold." Richard was soon gripping my ankle, so I was now held in a spread wide open position. "Are you happy so far, you've got no problems with what either John or Richard are doing?"
"No. It's fine."
"Now you do remember saying you have no problem with me touching you? Is that still the case?"
Was he going to just take his measurements, and this was just a test, to see what I'd say? And if I start being awkward at this stage, will that blow my chance of getting selected. I had to trust him. "Yes if you need to touch me, it's ok."
He knelt down and I felt his hand on the inside of my leg, about knee height. He stroked it slowly up and down my leg, not quite reaching my crotch, but going way past what would be stocking-top height. "You have lovely soft skin. Do you mind me just stroking you for a minute?"
"Is this absolutely necessary?" It wasn't that it didn't feel good, but it was obviously getting me aroused.
"No it's not absolutely necessary." His emphasis was solidly on the word absolutely. Then he continued, "If you want to go, you're free to leave at any time."
"Please I didn't mean that. I want the chance to be selected; if this is still part of my assessment, you just carry on."
"Sometimes during a shoot, it's necessary to have our models sexually aroused. This can as I'm sure you're aware, make a big difference to the way your body looks. The shape of your tummy and upper leg muscles change, and this gives that sexy look. But it also makes your nipples show through the costume. You must have noticed your nipples are starting to react to me stroking your legs?"
I blushed, "Yes I know."
"Don't be embarrassed, that's exactly what we're looking for, it's good to have a model that gets worked-up easily. But I'd like to see just how pronounced they get when they're fully aroused. Would you mind if we try some gentle stroking on the outside of the costume?"
I hesitated for a second, but decided to go this one step further. "I guess its ok."
"In that case, I'll carry on down here working on your thighs. While John and Richard work on your tits. What would be really helpful, would be if you can tell us when we find a spot that really gets you going. Then we'll soon get you aroused. It's as important for a girl to get aroused easily, as it is that she has a good figure."
But in truth, I didn't know if I could stand here letting three strangers stroke my body, and not just any part, I was expected to direct then to my G spots.
Graham's hand slid gently up my leg, until it touched my crotch. I let out a little gasp of breath. He said, "I guess that's found one?"
I couldn't actually reply with words, my body was screaming to ask for more. So all I did was let out a stifled moan. "Mmmmmm."
He stroked slowly back and forth, around the top of my leg, from under my bum, right forward up around the bare flesh exposed by the skimpy cut of the costume. By now both of the others had a breast each, cupped in the palm of their hands. Each time Graham's finger rubbed passed either of my holes or my clit I gave a shiver, and let out another moan. He would just give me a knowing smile or wink.
He wasn't going into the costume, but his stroking was close enough to get my pussy excited. Both of the others were now rolling and tweaking on what were big firm nipples. I'd now gone from scared, to a mixed feeling of fear and anticipation. I knew if they continued this stroking my pussy would soon start getting wet, and not long after that, my knees would go weak, and I'd start thrusting my hips. This I didn't want to happen, but unless they stopped soon, I'd have no control over what my pussy did.
Graham looked up at me. "This is really getting you hot, isn't it?"
"Now you can see why I've got John holding you. How much more can you take before your legs go weak?"
"I...I don't know. Please stop now."
"So you're saying you won't let me give you the final test?"
"No, I didn't say that, I just don't want you getting me too aroused."
"So does that mean I can give you the final test or not?"
I knew that if I wanted to stand any chance of getting a modelling contract, I'd have to undergo this final test. But I didn't want him inside the costume, playing with my pussy. After all, it was one thing him rubbing my legs and letting the other two caress my breasts on the outside of the costume. But it would be a giant leap letting him feel my pussy. So I decided, even if I didn't get selected, it wasn't worth letting him finger me.