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Old 08-09-2017, 03:03 PM
IsaacNewton IsaacNewton is offline
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Default A dream job - but with a catch

The netball team looked great as always, I’d already photographed most of the girls but a few more shots of them wouldn’t hurt. As they finished practice and headed for the changing rooms I followed, checking my camera to ensure moisture couldn’t get in. A couple of the college maintenance staff watched the pretty long legged girls in their short skirts as they passed, then looked at me with envy.

Once in the changing room I took some shots of the team captain stripping off, then moved over to the shower area for some fully nude pics of the rest of the team. The coach wasn’t with them and I still wanted nudes of her. I hadn’t decided whether to summon her to my studio or go to her private room when she was changing and showering.

Walking back to the studio I met an unfamiliar girl with a middle aged couple. From the paperwork she was holding she was clearly a potential student visiting the college with her parents. “Excuse me” she said shyly, “you’re obviously the college photographer, what exactly does that mean?” I’m sure she’d already been told but perhaps she didn’t take it all in. I explained that the job of college photographer was the result of a bequest from a college benefactor with a fixation on recording the female form. A photographer experienced in taking nudes had to be employed to ensure that ‘the bulk of the student body and female faculty’ on this all girl college were photographed naked. The pictures private to a board of trustees and kept secure for 50 years. I had access to the entire campus and every female on it was obliged to pose nude for me on request. In return, the same bequest also significantly subsidised the fees. The girl considered this.

“So does that mean, you’ll get to see me naked?”

“Yes”.

I could have equivocated, ‘ah well it’s only the majority I have to photograph so not necessarily everyone etc etc.” But better to give a direct answer. The girl thought for a moment, then gave an embarrassed smile and a ‘so what’ shrug. The parents seemed a little more doubtful. But that was the point of my simple direct answer, there was no arguing with it. They already had to accept that their beautiful little girl was going to grow up, leave home and go to college. The fact that she would at some point take all her clothes off for a man wasn’t really a big leap.

It was certainly a dream job, all I had to do with provide at least 50 pictures a week that met with the board’s approval, plus as many more as I liked. The money wasn’t very good, even allowing for free accommodation being provided, but if I could stick it out for the full 2 year contract a bonus would effectively treble my earnings. The only problem was that due to The Catch, few of my predecessors had lasted even a year.

I continued on my way, passing a very pretty woman in one of the language rooms, obviously a teacher. Although most of the students played sport of one kind or another so I could catch them in the changing rooms and showers if I wanted, photographing staff usually did require an individual session. This could be done in the studio, but often I preferred their working environment. The nature of the job meant I was forever photographing women who had never posed nude before and I was getting skilled at dealing with this. One biology teacher had been very shy at first, but in a class room with anatomical posters and a skeleton behind her she became quite casual about her nudity. The long corridors of the admin wing were great for nervous subjects. On a weekend when no one else was about, I’d stand half way along and get them to walk slowly towards me giving me a full-frontal view, then continue away from me showing their behind, they never knew quite when the picture would be taken.

The next studio session was for a stunning first year brunette I’d noticed a couple of days before. She’d been clearly shy about undressing at first, though once naked she looked great, just a rather broad butt to disguise. As it turned out she was very nice, so I did my best and kept it tasteful. On a couple of occasions, a girl had been arrogant or otherwise unlikeable and I’d had them undress right in front of me and I’d taken close ups of everything. Getting them to lie down naked on the floor, then walk round them studying details of their body through a viewfinder was a good way to take a stroppy girl down a peg or two. If I liked a girl, she’d get privacy to disrobe and we’d discuss possible poses beforehand. Most of the girls were likeable, but of course this made The Catch prey on my mind.

Paperwork next, I’d been notified of a few new girls starting part way through the term. None seemed to be particularly attractive going by the head shots on their application forms, not by the high standards of the college anyway. But one turned out to be the younger sister of an old friend, so worth a session just to satisfy my curiosity. Then it was time to go to the dean’s office for a meeting.

A graduation ceremony was being planned and photographs would be required, clothed of course. But still my responsibility so I was involved in the discussions. I always found the dean, Victoria Campbell-Smythe, slightly intimidating. It wasn’t anything she actually said just an impression that she thought a photographer was one step above a janitor and resented me being involved in discussions. I hadn’t photographed her yet except with her clothes on. But I felt that her constant knowledge that I would soon instruct her to strip naked at my convenience gave me a psychological advantage.

There were all kinds of procedural issues with this graduation, and as the discussion got into tedious detail I glanced out of the window, seeing dozens of young women in skimpy summer clothes wandering the campus. I could barely remember what it was like not to be able to see any of them naked whenever I felt like it. That would be so incredibly frustrating, those maintenance staff who had watched me follow the girls into the showers could barely contain their envy. But I could barely contain my envy of them, because of The Catch.

It was a term of my contract that I couldn’t have sex. Not with students, not with staff, not even with anyone unconnected with the college, for the whole 2 years of my contract. Two years celibacy might normally be just about manageable, but surrounded by pretty carefree young girls it would have been a challenge even if I wasn’t constantly seeing them naked. There was little chance of getting away with anything without being detected. I rarely had reason to leave the campus and even when I did I suspected the board kept a close eye on me. After all my 2 previous predecessors had lost their contracts due to activities off campus. In any case it was the girls on campus that caused the temptation.

Sometimes I wondered if it was all worth it. What would happen if I lasted the full 2 years, madness through frustration? Or would I be so used to ignoring temptation that I would no longer be able to respond to it when I had the chance? I was worried this might already be happening, I would find myself spotting stunning, beautiful girls and dismissing them from my mind because their breasts were a bit small or their legs a bit short to make a good nude model.

Although I had complete access to all areas, I didn’t abuse it. I kept out of lavatories and the medical centre, if a girl in the shower used a cubicle and drew the curtain I took the hint. And I didn’t go in the changing rooms with visiting sports teams. Although they weren’t obliged to pose I was fully entitled to be there, but it seemed a step too far. Sports teams weren’t the only visitors of course. The fashion students were preparing a show in the main hall that evening and some models had been arranged. The backstage area of the hall always provided good opportunities, actresses and models often seemed to think backstage nudity didn’t really count.

There was no doubt who the models were, three amazing looking blondes, not quite so tall as to look unnatural, not quite so slim as to look unhealthy. Perfect faces but ‘girl next door’ rather than the ‘girl next planet’ look common with models. My attention was immediately caught by one in particular, you couldn’t fault the looks of any of them, but like many perfect blondes they were just slightly bland. But one was different, something subtle about her eyes and the line of her mouth, maybe just a habitual expression, gave her a special air of intelligence and self-assurance. Somehow it made her very distinctive and individual, without being an imperfection. Of three perfect looking girls, she managed to be by far the most attractive and I itched to find out what she looked like naked. Of course since she was a visitor I couldn’t simply get her to strip off, but I introduced myself anyway. She turned out to be called Teresa and was intrigued by my job. She mentioned that she was going to be on campus until the following lunchtime and unbelievably offered to come to my studio in the morning for a nude shoot. Once more I was thanking the Lord for my job, until I remembered that the whole of the next morning was going to be spent in yet another blasted meeting with the dean and committee.

After a night of sleepless frustration I checked my emails and found the morning meeting was cancelled at short notice. Not entirely the dean’s fault, some other attendees weren’t available, but typical of the way she felt free to muck me around. Fine, I’d muck her around. I emailed back saying that since we now both had the morning free this would be a good opportunity for her photoshoot and would she please come to the studio, then made a simple arrangement with a friend. When the dean arrived, I relished the authority reversal of getting her to undress straight away, then stand around nude while I pretended to finish some paperwork. I finally asked her to lie on her back on the studio floor and with perfect timing my friend rang back as arranged. I left the dean lying there fully naked while I chatted over the phone, laughing uproariously with my mate about a recent party and intermittently checking out the dean’s body. Knowing how aware she must be of how her middle aged form compared with the girls I was used to photographing, I let her wait. Occasionally I’d react to a blemish as if I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. To be honest she didn’t look bad. Breasts fleshy but not flabby, stomach smooth and flat, pubic hair trimmed in a surprisingly modern style. While still on the phone I gestured for her to roll over and examined her butt closely. Finally, I put the phone down picked up a camera and took some deliberately unflattering pictures.
After she’d dressed and gone I loaded the shots into my computer, none of this made me feel any better but I had to take my frustration out on someone. After lunch my thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, it was Teresa.

“Any chance of that shoot?”

“I thought you would have gone by now”,

“Some of the girls told me about your shoots, I’ve never gone fully nude before but it sounds like you know your stuff, so I rearranged a few things.”

This change of fortunes took a bit of getting used to, I got us each a drink, we talked about preferred poses, then did the shoot. She was every bit as striking naked, very graceful and uninhibited.

“I’ve heard about The Catch” she said when I was expecting her to put her clothes back on, “what a waste.”

“Nothing I can do about it I’m afraid, I take girls clothes off purely in the name of art”.

Teresa licked her lips thoughtfully.

“There are a lot of options between artistic detachment and actually breaching the contract”.

She came closer and started to unbutton my shirt.

We ended up breaching the contract, twice. But I felt I should get away with it, nobody except the two of us knew there was anything other than a shoot taking place, and she would be off campus that day.

Next morning I woke feeling more relaxed than I could remember. The sexual frustration was gone obviously, and there wasn’t the usual sense of accumulated unfinished business from all those girls I’d seen naked and never slept with. There was something else, a feeling of a weight being lifted. Suddenly I realised, it was because Teresa had come to me after speaking to the college girls about my shoots. Deep down I’d been worried that all those girls loathed me for what I was doing but were too polite to say. But no, they realised I had a job to do and liked how I did it. I didn’t have anything to feel guilty about. Except one thing.

I wrote an email to the dean.

“Victoria

The pictures from your shoot yesterday will be deleted from my computer and won’t submit them to the board or keep copies. I hope you’ll accept my apologies for the way I behaved. It had been a bad couple of days, but that’s no excuse for taking it out on you. I was unprofessional and abused my position.

Rest assured I won’t ask you to undress for me again. Unless you want to pose of course, in which case I’ll give you pictures you’ll be proud of.

Peter”

A reply came half an hour later

“Peter

Thanks for the email, very much appreciated. I know it isn’t like you to abuse your position, I often hear girls you’ve photographed saying how comfortable they felt and how you’ve treated them with respect.

Believe me, I really do understand the frustrations of your position, and I’ll look forward to posing again sometime for those flattering pictures.

Best regards, Vicky.”

I never got the chance to photograph the dean again. After two days, during which I felt more relaxed and energised than I could remember and took some fabulous pictures, an email came through from the board. Whether they’d heard directly about Teresa or deduced what had happened from my vastly more relaxed demeanour I don’t know. But they were cancelling my contract.

A few months later I’m doing portraits for a living. Some of my clients are willing to undress, so my experience with nervous subjects and every variety of body shape stands me in good stead and I’m doing well. Showing an attractive young lawyer her nude shots and seeing her pleasure I reflected that even if she didn’t come to my bed some of my long client list would be forthcoming. At least now, girls undress for me because they want to, and I always have some chance of getting physical with them.
It’s better this way.
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