The Photographic Studio Competition Pt. 02

Victoria sat behind her desk in the plush room she called her office. As a family law solicitor, she had defended many clients in divorce settlements - the large proportion of her clients being women. She had therefore obtained many large settlements from the male fraternity and was proud of that.

On her desk were three letters. all from the same person, the content did not fall into her remit of Family law, but the Senior Partner and owner of the firm of solicitors had seemed keen that she take the case on. It was, as he had said, to stand up for women's rights of which she had long been an advocate.

Victoria, mid-thirties, was married with two young children. There were others that you would pass in the streets, that would catch your eye more than her, but with neatly styled long hair, glasses, and her business suits, she could look very attractive and command the respect of men. That's what she liked, the respect of men.

She sat back in her leather-bound desk chair and played with the envelope, turning it around from corner to corner on her desk, as she mused with the case. Was it something she wanted to take up? The Senior partner was keen for her to deal with the case - rather keen in all respects, but she felt that he must have finally seen her ability and even though she did not like him as a man, he was her way up the promotion ladder.

The desk phone rang which disturbed her from her thoughts. A little annoyed she saw from the display it was Ollie, her assistant. Why oh why did they give her a male legal trainee? She would have preferred a female. Victoria had therefore made her point and given Ollie very menial tasks like answering the telephone and making coffees for her and clients. She had even made him type her letters rather than send them to the typing pool.

On picking up the call, Ollie had let her know her client had arrived. She stood, straightened her business suit, and walked slowly to the door. She walked out down a small corridor to the reception area, greeted her client and they both walked back to her room. Sitting down, she smiled and offered a coffee to her client.

Three weeks earlier.......

Ollie sat at his desk. He was angry and had had his fill of the 'feminist' he had to call his boss. He had joined the firm of Solicitors a year ago, following gaining a Law degree, with the promise of being trained as a Solicitor, but had been assigned to Victoria who from the start had appeared displeased with her new trainee. He was now given only admin roles and was feeling like a glorified secretary.

He scrolled through the post that had been delivered, addressed to Victoria. Boring, boring, boring -- the days couldn't get much worse -- the usual letters from other solicitors in reply to those he had to type out for Victoria. That would mean more typing when she dictated a reply. He couldn't type and each letter was always returned with mistakes. She loved that.

He out sorted the advertising and marketing leaflets and threw them in the waste-paper bin next to his desk. He placed the letters in a folder and took them into Victoria's office.

She was not in a good mood. After 15 minutes of being blamed for 'everything ', he returned to his desk dejected and angry. None of it was his fault, but apparently, it was. If she threatened him again with dismissal, he would... he would... something caught his eye in the waste-paper bin. He stooped and picked it up reading the front

'80% off Photoshoot '

He pulled a new client file from his side desk drawer and read through the brief notes which had been taken down from the phone call. He summarised the salient points in his head -- photo shoot / embarrassing / 80% off / degrading / Stella.

Back to the leaflet. '80% off Photoshoot'

Embarrassing / Degrading / Photoshoot. Could it be?

The phone buzzing brought him from his train of thought. It was Victoria demanding he returned to her office. What now!

When he returned to his desk with an armful of written papers and typing and too much work to do in the remainder of the day, Ollie looked at the leaflet and smiled.

The present

Stella sat in front of Victoria and stared at the unopened letters in dismay.

Victoria saw her disappointment but was not going to miss this chance to impress the Senior Partner and gain promotion so quickly mentioned that the letters remained unopened as it was always best to meet face to face to discuss. Victoria went on to state that she had read the telephone briefing notes and embarrassment and degrading behavior was just not appropriate. She would be sending the full force of the law down on this studio.

Stella shook from her initial disappointment and felt that this Solicitor would help her. She launched into the details from the competition form to the images, from the Fancy dress shop owner to the full nudity.

Victoria took notes, shaking her head at various times. She inwardly wondered, however, how Stella had been so stupid as to sign the form without reading the small print.

Guided by Stella, Victoria opened the envelopes and found an unsigned but intact competition form. She assured Stella that she would scrutinize the form to the finest points and the studio would not have a leg to stand on, she was sure. The images would be returned, and compensation paid.

She led Stella to her door, shook hands, and promised a call back when the news was available.

After returning to her desk, Victoria filed the notes she had taken, along with the letters and entry form. She would not need to read them. A simple case of turning up at the studio would scare this photography pervert. She would use long legal words, and this would be over in a jiffy.

The Studio owner, and photographer, smiled. He had just taken a call from a Solicitors office making arrangements for a solicitor representing Stella to visit. The appointment had been arranged for two days' time. He was in no doubt as to why.

He flicked on his computer and opened a file -- an old favorite. Making himself comfortable, he flicked through the images depicting Stella undressing, to the point where, again, he satisfied himself.

He cleaned up, returned to his desk, and made a note of the Solicitors name -- Victoria Brown. A quick internet search and he had located an image of Victoria. He was just a little excited about the forthcoming meeting. Just then the doorbell went, and a family came in for their portraits. The usual boring snaps, he thought.

The next two days passed mundanely for the photographer. A couple of clients, but much time to ponder.

Nice and early the following morning, the photographer arrived at his studio, flicked on the lights, and checked around the studio. He positioned a couple of lights in front of the white background wallpaper he liked to use, and straightened the thick net curtains that separated his studio from the viewing public who would pass by. Recharged his batteries and laid out a few lenses. He wondered what the day would bring.

A reminder popped up on his computer screen regarding a morning appointment. The solicitor he thought. This would be fun -- he liked a challenge of words.

Dead on the agreed time, his studio front doorbell rang and a well-presented lady stepped in. He introduced himself and confirmed that she was Victoria from the solicitors, which she was. He remained polite, offered a coffee, and once prepared and served, they sat at his desk.

Initially, Victoria wanted to run through the events of Stella's photo shoot with him. He listened, tried to interject, and was quickly told that she wasn't finished. As the story progressed to the removal of Stella's bikini and the end shots taken, he smiled.

Victoria told him he was nothing but a pervert and whilst asking him to explain, never stopped to allow him to do such. She told the photographer he would need to return the images/sign a legal document to confirm all copies had been destroyed and pay an exorbitant amount of compensation for degrading her client.

Eventually, she paused and he had a chance to speak. He stated that, to his knowledge, the signed form was a watertight contract that had been signed freely without duress. He pointed to the conditions which were written on the back of the competition form which confirmed the headline of '80% off' being the nature of the shoot rather than the price.

Whilst Victoria had seen and read through the terms and conditions, and indeed the whole form, and secretly realized it was as watertight as the photographer was stating, she was not going to let this 'little man' get away with this -- especially against women and her current client, Stella.

She launched into legal jargon, mentioning barristers, court appearances, and forced closure of the studio, and took the opportunity to quote a couple of legal precedent cases by name to 'frighten' the perverted photographer.

After nearly an hour of going around in apparent circles, they still appeared to be in disagreement.

A brief silence and then the photographer arose from his chair. He mentioned that whilst the conversation had been fun for a while, time was money, and they should get started.

Victoria puzzled for a while at what he meant but decided that she had won the day and he meant started as in deleting the images. She smiled for the first time.

A beautiful smile thought the photographer.

He moved towards the camera and sprung the lights into operation to warm up. Switching on his camera he focused and checked the focal length.

He then looked over at Victoria expectantly. She looked at him and asked what he was doing? Perhaps the photographs of Stella were still on his camera's memory card.

Moving back to the desk, the photographer sighed, sat on his chair, somewhat heavily, and opened the desktop right drawer. He delved around a bit, before bringing out a competition entry form and moving it across the desk to Victoria.

Wondering what the point of showing her another competition form was, Victoria picked it up moving it from side to side and stating that she knew what the competition form looked like. She stood and, with a loud 'in charge' voice stated that she had little time left so could they please get on.

The photographer thought the same.

He showed her the signature on the form she was holding. She looked and looked again. Victoria took a deep breath -- it couldn't be. A mistake surely or a complete fraud.

Staring at the form, she saw her own signature. A hot flush came over her and she quickly scanned her memory confirming that she had and would never sign such a paper. She looked closely, perhaps it was a copy or scan of a signature she had written on a sent letter. It wasn't, it was her signature, in her usual ink pen and it was obviously not a copy. She didn't understand.

I didn't... she began in a weaker voice. Dam why did she squeak that.

Then, trying to regain any advantage she thought she had, she claimed the contract null and void -- if it ever was a contract. To prove it she would ring the Senior Partner at her firm of solicitors. He was a barrister, and the studio and photographer would see them in court. Victoria rang and, after a few moments, was put through to the Senior partner.

Explaining the situation, the fact that the form bore her signature, but was a fraud, and the general gist of her hatred for the photographer, the Senior partner listened. She stopped once explained, smiled a cruel smile at the photographer, and waited for the Senior partner to be enraged and want to talk with the 'pervert' sitting opposite her.

After a few moments the Senior partner spoke, and she was surprised by his words. He asked if it was her signature / had she studied it? She said that it appeared to be and looked exactly as she would sign, even the flourish at the end was visible. He asked if it could have been scanned or copied onto the form. She acknowledged that it appeared inked on rather than a scan or copy.

Another pause. She put the phone on speaker, ready for the Senior partner to launch into her defence.

Well, I see you have no choice Victoria. You have signed a contract and should fulfill your obligation. The firm cannot support you with a case it doesn't feel able to win.

The photographer smiled, ended the call and sat quietly opposite Victoria admiring the startled look on her face for what seemed an age.

Eventually, he rose and told Victoria they should begin, motioning to the white background in front of the lights he had set up earlier. There was a leather posing box placed centrally which he asked her to sit on and face the camera.

Stunned, on her own without legal support, Victoria shuffled to the box and sat facing the camera. The photographer clicked a few portraits - 'For your file' he told Victoria. With all of her 'fight' gone and without the support of her legal standing, Victoria meekly forced a smile.

The photographer looked through the viewfinder at his model. Victoria was wearing black high heels, no stockings, or tights and had good legs leading to a black suit skirt and black jacket. Under the jacket was a white blouse. She wore a watch which he could see was feminine on her wrist and a necklace, silver with a heart around her neck. He was feeling excited at his power.

After a few portraits, he instructed Victoria to pose and got her to sit at 90 degrees to the camera, looking over her left shoulder towards him and the camera. Then 'place one hand on your hip and the furthest arm across your waist. After a few different poses, Victoria was asked to open the top two buttons of her blouse and place her hands behind her on the posing box. With her jacket already undone this had the effect of stretching her blouse tight against her shape and, much to the photographer's delight, showed a glimpse of a white lacey bra underneath. A few images were taken and she was told to loose the jacket.

Victoria now refused to smile and stared impassively at the camera.

We'll stop now, announced the photographer and Victoria felt a surge of surprise and happiness -- that wasn't too bad but still not what a professional in the Legal profession should be doing. However, she decided that she would be pleasant to the photographer and, if she mentioned that she wouldn't pursue Stella's claim any further and indeed would drop the case if he would delete the images he had taken.

He smiled, at what was a vain attempt on her part, to avoid matters. Paused as if he were giving it serious thought, then laughed. He told her the only reason we are stopping is so that I can bring in a Chaise Lounge and whilst waiving the signed contract, the only thing that would be dropped, would be her clothes.

Mortified, Victoria picked up her jacket and papers and headed for the door. No chance.

The photographer moved towards the door also, brandishing the contract and reminding Victoria that even the Senior partner at her firm had confirmed it was watertight. Breaking the contract would lead to being taken to court where he would demand the fulfillment and perhaps demand it with immediate effect. 'I'm sure the judge and jury would enjoy watching you have your images taken' he had told her. Of course, there would also be the matter of you not being able to practice law again -- I mean who would wish to employ a Solicitor who reneged on her own contracts -- it would be impossible to fill any company's clients with confidence if she were working there.

Victoria's eyes began to well up. He was right. How did it come to this? She re-entered the studio, placed her papers and jacket down, and moved to where the red chaise lounge had been positioned. The photographer returned to behind the camera, and asked her to sit at one end with one leg on the chaise lounge seat and the other on the floor. Click and the image was recorded.

After a few more movements and poses, the photographer had skilfully managed to move Victoria so that her calf-length skirt had ridden up her legs. He caught his breath as he glimpsed white panties beneath -- click.

'Now open your blouse' and instructions followed to let the blouse hang. The blouse fell straight and hung downwards which showed the white lace bra cups and the delights that were contained. The photographer took a few images thinking that soon containment would need to be removed. He loved this competition and mentally praised himself for thinking it up and putting it in place.

Blouse off the shoulders, that's right, now let it fall down the arms...turn to me, Mmmmm, turn back, now one strap down, now the other.

Stella was complying. She hated every minute, but since her 'rush to the door to leave' what the photographer had said was true -- she would loose her job and unlikely to get another position. She felt unable to refuse and felt tormented with every instruction, that was, in effect stripping her of her dignity. Why oh why did she take on this case.

The photographer clicked image after image. Like Stella, when Victoria's bra straps came down her shoulders, it showed tan lines where the straps had been. The photographer had no doubt that the flesh of her breasts would also be white compared to her exposed arms and legs, and he felt a twitching in his jeans at the thought of the reveal. Click

The shirt was lost and very quickly the skirt. The latter had become more of a belt for the last ten or so images, it had ridden up so much, that it was of no benefit to the shoot. Now sat on the red chaise lounge in her white Lacey bra and white panties set Victoria knew that the next item removed would show much more. She tried to stay strong, she would not show this 'pervert' weakness -- but inside she was churning, and she was trying desperately to delay matters further. 'Please phone ring' or someone knock on the door she had thought. She quickly revised that second thought -- no, no one must come in and see me like this.

Her arms were now coaxed out of the bra straps in order she could sit lengthways again on the chaise lounge in a familiar pose, with one leg on the seat in front and the other to the floor. Her bare arms on the seat behind her. Just in her bra and panties, this was 'obscene' she thought.

The photographer was happy with the poses and images taken so far but now it was time for the crowning glory. He instructed Victoria to pull the cups of her bra down thereby releasing her nipples with the bra cupping the released flesh. She refused. He asked her if they needed to go through the fact that he would pursue her contact in court. She shook her head but still was in no mood to have her uncovered breasts imaged.

The photographer thought for a moment. Then went over to the heavy net curtain that blocked the outside passing shoppers, from viewing the inside of the studio. He reached for the cord which hung at the side of the curtain and began pulling.

Somewhat in a daydream, Victoria snapped out when she saw a crack appear in the middle of the curtain. She yelled out to wait.

The photographer paused. Victoria asked him what he was doing, and he replied that he was opening the curtains.

Victoria was obviously distressed at this prospect. Then anyone could see her, and she was in her underwear posing on a chaise with one leg up and legs apart. This was too much!

'Your choice' the photographer said whilst still slowly opening the curtains. He then informed Victoria that they could finish the shoot now with the curtains closed or, sit here with the curtains open until she agreed to fulfill the signed contract.

Victoria looked through the increasing gap in the curtains to the front of the store and saw couples, men, and people walking by. One or two stared to stop and point to the front of the store. The women who had been stopped by their partners to look just glared in disgust but all the men appeared to be smiling and edging closer.