tagNovels and NovellasThe Wanderings of Amy Ch. 04

The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 04


Chapter 4 - Modeling for Suzanne

Spring Break came and went.

The week leading up to Spring Break was particularly hard for Amy. The mention of the party spots that Amy and Courtney had been to last year forced Amy to remember the "better" half of her road trip. As the memories of the different party spots popped up in her mind, she began to realize that even at the beginning there were indications that the whole adventure with Courtney was going to end in disaster.

The sight of drunken "college chicks" on the video channels touting Spring Break forced Amy to avoid the Student Center restaurants. While drinking coffee between classes the Monday before Spring Break, she happened to see one video clip showing a group of girls on the shoulders of some fraternity guys in Daytona Beach, swinging their bikini tops. The girls were censored with that electronic fuzz over their chests, of course. The clip included a girl who looked identical to Courtney. In fact, it probably was Courtney, since Amy thought she recognized some of the guys.

She started having flashbacks. Suddenly she was behind the dumpster, looking into Courtney's face for the last time. Amy could not go to her next class. She ran all the way home; no small feat given that it was nearly a mile from the university. She burst into the apartment, where Suzanne was just about to go out. She rushed passed her astonished roommate and threw up in the kitchen sink. Suzanne ran to the kitchen to comfort her. For the first time in two years Suzanne missed a class, as she spent hours cradling her roommate in her arms.


Amy spent Spring Break with Suzanne. They traveled south to an isolated forest location that Suzanne previously had used for photo shoots. Amy felt the thrill of spending hours outdoors in the nude, as Suzanne shot over 40 rolls of both color and black & white film in four days. Amy walked in the shade, walked in the sun, sat with her feet in a cold stream, smiled, looked serious. Sometimes Suzanne clearly told her subject what she wanted her to do. Sometimes she let Amy wander around with no direction at all, letting her do what she wanted and taking pictures spontaneously. Sometimes Suzanne backed away to shoot her with a telephoto lens, allowing Amy to forget the immediate presence of the camera. On the last day Suzanne left her model alone for two hours to shoot her with the telephoto lens. It was a strange sensation, spending a full two hours walking down a forest path in the nude by herself, completely cut off from her clothing and every other trapping of civilization. The feel of the sun and breeze on her body thrilled her. Amy completely forgot about the camera, which was what the photographer wanted.

Upon returning to their apartment Suzanne taught Amy how to develop pictures. They spent the next three days in the apartment's darkroom. Developed pictures from the forest session started to stack up. Amy thought that over half of the pictures were great, but Suzanne's critical eye picked out the final 30 prints that she would try to sell. An additional handful were separated to put in her portfolio. She tried to explain the difference between a truly great picture and a mediocre one, in technical terms that Amy only half understood.

Over the next several weeks it became evident that Suzanne knew what she was doing in selecting the pictures. She found herself digging through the rejected photos for others to offer clients after the first batch sold. The income from the sales was better than either the photographer or her model expected. Amy suddenly found that she had enough money to pay her tuition and rent through the summer, allowing her to tell Robert to leave her father's money in the trust. Several of the pictures from the Spring Break photo shoot later appeared in a national photo magazine. By the summer it was clear to both roommates that the forest photos were a turning point in Suzanne's career.


At the end of April Suzanne landed a contract with a publisher who was putting out a series exercise books, featuring people working out in the nude. There were going to be a total of 10 books altogether, each focusing on a different photographer and a different model. Suzanne was responsible for taking all the pictures for one book out of the series.

As Suzanne discussed the contract with the publisher, it became evident that the he was hoping for the same model that she had used in the forest pictures. That's easy enough, replied Suzanne, she's my roommate.

After showing the contracts to Robert to make sure she understood them, Suzanne presented the job to Amy. She was excited. The photographer drove home the point the session would be a major undertaking. "We're not talking about you just strolling around in the woods. This is going to take real effort on your part. You might hate me by the time we finish."

Suzanne was genuinely worried. She had to do a good job. She had to have a model who understood what was needed, who would work day after day and patiently allow over a thousand pictures to be taken only to have about 100 or so end up in the book. If Amy was not up to the task, it would wreck their friendship and possibly Suzanne's future as a photographer.

The university gym had reduced hours as soon as finals ended, opening up the opportunity for Suzanne to use it as a setting for the photo shoot. The art department chairman arranged for Suzanne to have after-hours access to the workout rooms, squash courts, and indoor pool until the end of June. He handed his student a master key. Suzanne thanked her chairman and immediately headed over to the gym to check the lighting.

That night Suzanne and her model went over to the gym for the first time. Amy left her clothes in the locker room. Suzanne stayed dressed because she needed to carry her photography supplies around in her pockets. Suzanne explained that Amy would actually be working out. "You're not just posing. Your actual daily workouts will be during our after-hours sessions."

The experience of entering the empty gym left a strange impression on Amy, being alone in a place usually full of people, being nude in a place she normally would have to be dressed. Since Amy already had worked out that day, Suzanne had to content herself with some shots of her model in the pool and the sauna. She did take some experimental shots of Amy in the workout rooms, just to check the lighting. Suzanne was not satisfied with the lighting at all. She would have to bring some of her own, which would complicate each night's session. Amy picked up on her roommate's anxiety.

Each night Amy and Suzanne entered the empty gym. Amy stripped and went through her routine in the nude. On Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays she did upper body, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she did lower body. She finished in the pool. The pool was her favorite part. It was wonderful to be able to swim in the nude again. Suzanne's camera clicked continuously as Amy sweat on the machines and weights. Her camera clicked as Amy splashed in the pool. Her camera clicked on the racquetball court and the gymnastics room.

Trouble erupted between Amy and Suzanne during the third week of shooting. After a while it seemed to Amy that Suzanne was taking the same pictures over and over. She did not see the point of taking any more and became irritated with Suzanne's constant tinkering with the lighting. She wanted to spend the hot summer evenings outside, not working out.

Suzanne was becoming increasingly convinced that Amy was not putting all of her effort into the workouts. It showed in the pictures. Her muscles were not tensed. Her face looked too relaxed. She was not sweating enough. Suzanne shook her head in frustration as she slapped the latest batch of developed prints on her desk. These weren't going to work.

The fight came Thursday night, when a group of classmates from one of Amy's summer classes decided to see a movie. She left a message on the answering machine telling Suzanne that she would skip tonight's workout to go out with the others. The tone of the message made clear to Suzanne that Amy's enthusiasm was gone. As soon as Amy came through the door Suzanne confronted her. It was not the movie, she explained, it was her over-all attitude.

Amy rolled her eyes: "Look, you've taken the same stupid pictures of me over and over. How many shots of me doing leg presses do you need? Select your fucking photos already and send them in!"

Suzanne tried to explain what she needed and that Amy was not giving it to her. Amy rolled her eyes a second time.

"Then get a different model! I'm sick of this shit!"

Panic swept though Suzanne. It was too late to get another model.

Amy needed to be motivated. Suzanne remembered the story of the strapping that Robert had given her. It seemed that they both agreed that it helped her pull herself together. Suzanne decided to try discipline to motivate her model.

The next morning Suzanne surprised her step-mother by dropping over at her father's house. The photographer explained that she needed the paddle that her father had used on her when she was still in middle-school.

"I'll see if I can find it." Suzanne watched while her step-mother rummaged through the drawers of the den. Finally she found it at the bottom of a drawer in a cabinet. She passed it over. "What do you need it for anyway?"

Suzanne explained about Amy and the photo shoot. Then she studied at the paddle in her hands. It brought back a lot of unpleasant memories.

She had not seen it since she was about 14. The implement was 18 inches long, about 4 inches wide, and about a quarter of an inch thick. It was strange to hold the paddle as an adult that had tormented her so much as a young teenager. Suzanne remembered that it had a vicious sting to it, but did not bruise the skin very much. She remembered that the marks from the paddle never lasted more than a day or two.

Suzanne remembered the evenings bent over her father's desk, her jeans around her knees, punished for almost anything that displeased him. She pushed her past out of her thoughts and lightly slapped the palm of her hand.

Amy, you're gonna get it, thought Suzanne to herself.


That night in the gym Suzanne had the paddle packed in her photo bag. She planned not to use it if her model's attitude changed. However, that was not likely, given the unpleasantness from the previous evening.

Suzanne was right. Amy was sullen and uncooperative from the beginning. She continuously rolled her eyes when Suzanne told her to do anything. Finally the photographer picked up her camera bag and a small workout bench. "Amy, I need you to come with me."

Suzanne had nothing to say to Amy. She had explained everything last night. Amy had not listened. Suzanne's patience was exhausted.

Amy followed Suzanne into a small spare workout room that currently was empty. Suzanne locked the door and set the bench in the middle of the floor. She set the camera bag in a corner, unzipped it, and pulled out the paddle. She turned to face her roommate.

Seeing Suzanne with the paddle in her hand shocked Amy so much that for a moment she could not speak. Suzanne was pleased to see her friend's frightened expression.

"Amy, last night I explained to you how important this photo shoot is to me." Suzanne began quietly. "I explained that what I needed from you was what you promised from the beginning, 100% effort on your part, to make the photos convincing. You wanted to do this, even after I explained to you what it would entail. You told me that it would thrill you to be the model of the shoot that would launch my career."

This time Amy said nothing. Suzanne had told her all this last night, but she did not have a paddle in her hand while saying it. Suzanne continued with a calm cold voice that frightened her roommate.

"I am giving you two choices tonight. Either you can get dressed and walk out of here, or you can bend over that bench. If you walk out of here I expect you to have your things out of the apartment by this time tomorrow night. You can take the pictures that we have done so far out of my work-room. I will have no use for them. I won't come back until you and your things are gone. I'll send a check for the rest of your rent for this month to Robert's address. I might or might not be able to get another model and try to re-do the shoot in time. However, that won't be your problem."

"If you bend over that bench, we'll start the shooting all over, from the very beginning, on Monday. We only have four weeks left, which isn't much time. The paddle will stay in my camera bag until we're done."

Amy opened her mouth to try to convince Suzanne she would try harder, that she was sorry. Suzanne's cold voice interrupted her before she could speak.

"Amy, don't bother to say anything. Either go to the door or go to the bench. Those are your choices."

Amy stood silent. She now realized that she was to blame for this. She had placed Suzanne into a desperate situation by not giving her what she needed for the photo shoot. This, her first book, was Suzanne's big chance. A book of lackluster photos would ruin her prospects for future contracts. Amy knew that Suzanne was such a perfectionist that she would risk a breach of contract suit before turning in mediocre photos. Amy just wished that she had taken her friend more seriously the previous night.

Amy walked over to the bench. With sad eyes she looked over her shoulder, waiting for her next instructions.

"Put your hands on the bench, and put your feet about shoulder-width apart...Now, arch your back a bit so your butt sticks out."

Once in position, Amy bit her lip. She was nervous about the impending punishment, but more than anything else, sad and ashamed that she had let Suzanne down. She would not object to being punished; she had brought this upon herself.

Suzanne studied the paddle in her hand. She glanced at Amy's waiting bottom. She remembered this paddle's role in her own life, slightly less than 10 years before. She remembered the nights bent over her father's desk. She remembered her father's long lectures while she waited with her pants down. She remembered her step-brother standing in the door of the den, smirking at her, whenever her stepmother did not chase him upstairs. She remembered the sharp sting. She remembered her step-mother, of all people, trying to comfort her afterwards in the kitchen.

Suzanne felt bad about having to punish Amy. There was something about her roommate that invited a feeling of wanting to protect her. Inwardly Suzanne was grateful that Amy had not taken off. Still, she had to go through with this. Amy had assured her that she would put all of her effort into the pictures. Instead she had wasted three weeks out of the seven that Suzanne would have access to the gym. Her attitude, especially during the last two nights, threatened to wreck the entire project. Amy seemed not to realize that there was a lot at stake for her as well; Suzanne had offered her 50% of her net income from the book.

Suzanne placed the paddle against both cheeks of Amy's bottom. She tapped her quivering target gently and pulled the paddle back. POP! Amy's bottom jiggled. Both cheeks turned a light pink. POP! The pink darkened slightly. POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!... Amy's bottom turned slightly darker with each swat.

Amy stayed quiet at the beginning. The paddle had a sharp sting to it, somewhat lighter than Robert's strap. However, Amy's eyes quickly filled with tears, more from the humiliation of being paddled by her friend than from the actual pain.

Suzanne was not counting the swats. She was not as experienced with discipline as was Robert. All she had to go on was the memory of her own punishments. Suzanne suddenly realized that she needed to time the swats and spread them out. She decided to hit Amy on alternate cheeks. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... Amy's bottom was now a deep pink. Suddenly Amy began to cry quietly.

After about 20 additional swats it became harder for Suzanne to continue. She hated doing this to her friend. She decided to give Amy 10 final swats and then stop.

POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!... Amy started to cry louder. The pain in her bottom started to make it harder to stay in position. She struggled to keep her bottom out. Her knees began to shake.

Suzanne decided to lay the final four swats across both bottom cheeks. POP!... Amy sobbed loudly. POP!... Suddenly she twisted out of position, but before Suzanne could say anything, struggled to get her hands back on the bench and her feet spread. POP!...POP!... Amy squealed loudly at each of the last two swats.

Suzanne stopped. Amy's bottom was a deep pink. Her bottom cheeks were swollen, with faint traces of purple. The punishment had not been all that severe, however; her bottom would be fully recovered by Monday. The effect of the paddling was more psychological than physical.

"You can get up. I'm done." Suzanne had tears in her own eyes. She had not realized how tough this would be on herself.

Amy stood up. Even through her tears she noticed Suzanne's sad expression. She hugged Suzanne and cried into her shoulder. The coldness had gone out of her soul. She hugged her crying roommate hard.


Amy's physical fitness improved dramatically over the next four weeks. Motivated by the shock of having been paddled by Suzanne, and by the knowledge that the paddle remained in the camera bag, Amy pushed herself hard during her workouts. Her strength increased as a result of the training, her muscles became more toned. Sweat poured down her body as Amy did her routine. By the end of June Amy could do 10 pull-ups. She could bench press her own weight. She could do sit-ups almost non-stop. By the end of the seven weeks Amy actually regretted the impending end of the photo shoot and of the opportunity to work out in the nude.

Suzanne was pleased as she examined the pictures from the final week of shooting. Amy's muscles were visible in all the pictures, her nude body glistening with sweat, her face set with a grim, determined expression. The last picture of the last day taken of Amy was a portrait in the sauna. The only thing Amy was wearing was a wet headband. She was exhausted and sweat poured down her face and chest. Amy's eyes, staring straight at the camera, had the same haunting expression as Suzanne's first portrait of Amy back in January. Amy and Suzanne both realized the quality of the picture as soon as they pulled it out of the darkroom. The shot turned out to be even more successful than either could have imagined; the publisher chose it as the theme portrait for the entire series.

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