Story 5 #2
In the end, his anger seemed to turn to bitterness, and she had to leave him. She couldn’t handle it anymore.
Now, she still saw him around town. She did her best to avoid him, not wanting an awkward encounter or to stir up bad memories for either of them.
But when she saw him she was reminded of the ticking clock, that thing that told her that, sooner or later, she would either have to accept that this was her life, in this small town, or she would have to get out of there and try something new, something different.
And now, here she was. In the city. This was her chance.
She told herself not to put too much hope in this one meeting - it could go either way, after all.
If she didn't get given any work, if none of this worked out for her, then she told herself that she would just try again.
Enjoy the experience, get used to being in the city on your own, and see it as a lesson - that was what she told herself, time and time again.
The crowds had started to thin out a little bit, and she felt as though she was getting a sense of her surroundings now.
She had booked a hotel nearby for the night, and she headed there to drop her bags off and get ready. It was a simple place, but it was cheap and that was enough for her.
She showered and changed, getting ready for the big meeting. She was feeling nervous now, but she found that going through the rituals of getting ready helped her to steady her nerves.
At last, she looked in the mirror, wanting to make sure that she had done everything just right, that she looked the best that she possibly could.
She had opted for an outfit that she thought would make the absolute most of her incredible figure.
She had chosen a short, denim skirt that showed off plenty of her legs, ending most of the way up her thighs.
She had a simple pair of black panties on beneath the skirt and was also wearing a simple, black bra.
She pulled the skirt on and looked at herself in the mirror.
She checked out her ass and nodded to herself, liking what she was seeing.
Her legs looked incredible, and her ass looked delectable.
She was starting to feel more confident.
She was sure that any modeling agency would snap her up in a second.
Then, she grabbed her top. It was a tight, white, top that clung to her perky breasts. She had considered not bothering with a bra at all. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing the way that part of her midriff was exposed, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her taut abs and her belly button.
She turned sideways and looked at her breasts.
No, she thought to herself, there was no need for a bra after all.
She pulled the top off and unhooked her bra. She looked at her breasts appreciatively. Not the biggest, perhaps, but they were still a good size and looked incredible. She smiled to herself and lightly flicked at her rosebud nipples.
It felt good, but she knew that there was no time to allow herself to get distracted here. She had an appointment to keep, after all.
She pulled the top back on. It was strapless, and now there were no bra straps ruining the sight of her bare, tanned, shoulders.
She looked at herself sideways in the mirror again - the flatness of her stomach and the way that the top clung perfectly to her breasts.
She looked good, and she felt good. She was ready for anything.
She pulled on a jacket and headed out. She got in a cab and headed to the address that she’d been given.
When she arrived, she looked around somewhat dubiously. This area looked quite rundown and the building looked almost derelict. Was this the right place?
The driver seemed to share her concerns.
“You sure you want me to drop you off here?” he asked her.
She smiled, trying to reassure herself as much as him.
“Sure,” she said, “this is it.”
She paid and got out.
She headed up the steps to the building. When she was there, she was relieved to see a sign for the modeling company. This was definitely the right place, then.
She headed up to the floor that was indicated on the sign.
When she was there, she saw a door with a frosted glass panel in it. She knocked and waited for an answer.
“Come in!” a man’s voice called out.
She opened the door and stepped inside.
She looked around, taking in everything as quickly as possible. In some ways, this place felt like the studios she had imagined, but at the same time, it seemed different, somehow - more rundown, perhaps.
It was a large room, and there were tables covered in photographs all over it.
One wall was painted completely white and had studio lights pointing at it. A number of cameras were set up, pointing at it. Next to them was a rack of clothes.
There was a desk with a couple of chairs on either side of it. Nearby, there were a couple of armchairs and a large couch.
She took this all in, and then she saw the man who had called out to her.
He walked over to her, looking her up and down critically. She tried to gauge what his opinion might be, but it was hard to tell.
She judged that he was probably about forty-five years old. He had aged very well, though, and it was hard to tell. The faint lines around his eyes, as well as the smattering of gray in his unruly, black hair, was the only real sign of how old he was.
He was a good-looking man. He was quite scruffy, wearing just a faded T-shirt and even more faded blue jeans.
He had light stubble on his face that added to the unkempt, wild look.
She wondered if this was all natural or if it was a look that he cultivated, carefully designed to give off the right impression of the "artiste."
He had light skin, dark eyes, and a handsome face.
There was an intensity about him that made her think of romantic heroes in books she had read when she was younger.
He was lean and muscular - she could see his biceps bulging beneath his T-shirt.
“Hello, hello,” he said, almost sounding impatient, “you must be Daisy.”
“That’s right. Pleased to meet you.”
She held out a hand to him. He took it and shook it quickly before letting it go.
“My name is Philip,” he said, “thank you for taking the time to come and see me today. Please, let me take your jacket.”
She took off her jacket and handed it to him. He tossed it onto one of the tables. Now, she saw him looking her body up and down. He didn’t try to hide it. She supposed that he didn’t have to - that was what she was here for, after all.
He nodded slightly. She felt pleased. She wanted his approval, wanted to please him.
“Now,” he went on, “if you’ll just stand against that wall I’ll get a proper look at you.”
She was surprised that they were getting down to business quite so quickly, but she did as she was instructed. She went over to the white wall and stood there.
“No, no, no,” Philip said, shaking his head, “don’t just stand there.”
“But you said -”
“I know what I said. But I assumed that you’d know that I wanted you to strike a pose, at least.”
She felt foolish for not understanding. She could feel that her nerves were getting to her.
However, when she started posing, using all of the positions that she'd seen other models use, the positions that she'd secretly practiced in the mirror at home, she started to feel better.
Philip was just watching her. She felt slightly self-conscious, but the feeling started to fade into the background. She saw him nodding slightly, still not really giving anything away about how he was feeling.
Then, he went to one of the cameras. He began snapping photos, and she felt even more of her inhibitions fade away.
She bent toward the camera, pushing her breasts forward and pouting.
She still wanted his approval, wanted him to give her some sign that this was going well.
He stood up straight, looking at her with a sigh. The sigh made her nerves come flooding back.
“What do you think?” she asked him nervously.
“I think that there’s something there. I’m just not sure how we can really use it. I feel as though there is something holding you back.”
“Please,” she said, knowing that she sounded desperate but unable to help herself, “just tell me what you want me to do.”
She was surprised then when she saw a flicker of a smile on his face and a light in his eyes. Suddenly, she felt as though she understood something here. This was a man who liked to be in control. He wanted to have power. And, at that moment, she was ready to give him that power that he so desired.
But then she thought about it. She didn't want to give him that power.
She thought that if she did that then she would just end up with another face in those photos on his table.
She did want his approval, it was true. And, as things progressed, she started to feel more attracted to him.
But, that was no reason to just roll over and give him what he wanted.
She was too strong for that, she told herself.
He was still smiling at her, ready for her to heed his instructions.
“Well,” he said, “here’s what I think you should do -”
However, he stopped speaking when he saw her walking over to him.
He looked at her, his mouth slightly open.
She had thrown off the small-town girl, filled with nerves, desperate to make this work.
Now, she was someone else. She was going to show him just who that was - and show him just who was in control here really.
He might have the cameras, but she had something else.
“I’ve got a better idea,” she said, moving in closer to him, “How about I show you what I think we should do?”
“What do you mean?” he asked her.
She leaned in closer to him. She kissed him lightly on the lips for just a moment.
Then, she moved her head to the side of his. She felt his stubble brush against her cheek as she moved her mouth to his ear.
“I think,” she whispered, her breath warm on his skin, “that you are far too used to telling people what to do. Far too used to getting things all your own way. I think that it’s about time someone showed you who is really in charge.”