It was her daughter's fault of course. Of that Natalie had absolutely no doubt. It was silly Melissa who posed topless in that horrible magazine and when Natalie had challenged her sanity, it was Melissa who had accused her mother of being a prude.
Natalie never let anyone call her that – especially her nineteen year-old daughter – even if she had been somewhat shy in all of her thirty-six years. Apart, of course, from one night when she was seventeen. She argued with Melissa, of course. The topic of male stereotyping of women somehow became a heated discussion on 'girl-power' and the use of one's form to control male thoughts and ideas. And that had slipped into a verbal debate on how so few women "dared to bare" in order to exercise their power. Even how some women were too square. Women like Natalie.
Quite how that resulted in Natalie saying that anything Melissa did in that way, she could do just as well, Natalie never quite worked out. Which also meant that Natalie never had any idea how come she was the proud holder of an appointment with the magazine that had photographed her daughter. In order that they could photograph her.
Melissa came with her in order to offer 'girl-power' shared strength. Although Natalie was fairly sure that her daughter was merely ensuring that her mother didn't chicken out. She had a good point, Natalie might have admitted if sufficient force had been brought to bear.
When the magazine's photographer indicated the little g-string that was to be Natalie's only garment for the shoot, it was only girl-power shared strength that saw Natalie remove her own clothes and pull on the tiny panties. Only the addition of a hidden vodka bottle's contents combined with the girl-power shared strength – and Melissa's goading – had Natalie donning a robe and stepping into the studio.
She listened to the photographer's instructions and took a deep breath, preparing to follow his instructions, and spending a little longer preparing to lose the robe. As Melissa wished her mother 'good luck' for no reason that Natalie could work out, she turned and pressed her hands on the wall of the set.
The cheap wood proved to be an old emergency doorway, unfortunately unlocked, and Natalie staggered through before she could otherwise react. When she looked up she was about to yell for help because the robe had snagged and the door had slammed behind her.
Natalie had expected her normal bad luck to prevail and that no one would be within earshot. Her luck was worse. She looked up to see that at least twenty males of various ages were not only within earshot, but eyeshot. She also realised that her snagged robe was predominantly behind her.
She gasped as she realised that firstly, she was now in the café next door to the magazine's studio and, somewhat worse, that her breasts were completely bared. She hastily covered herself with her hands, against the wishes of the robe, and contemplated how ridiculous her situation seemed. Thousands – well hundreds – of guys would have seen her breasts in the photographs her daughter had somehow convinced her to pose for, but there again, those completely unknown guys would have only been seeing a picture. These twenty had seen the real thing... things... so to speak. The first whistles and whoops let her know it wasn't just a bad dream.
Of more immediate concern was the snagged robe, and Natalie swivelled as best she could, trying to both force the door back open and drag the robe clear at the same time. Neither worked, and when an extremely friendly voice suggested she tug downwards to try to free the robe, she was more than happy to try.
The ripping sound brought more whistles and whoops, and a further draught of cold air against what was now an evidently exposed pair of ass cheeks. With a hand hastily (and inadequately) trying to cover the new exposure and the other barely covering her breasts, Natalie felt truly exposed and helpless. When another voice suggested pushing a trolley past her into the door, she could only nod enthusiastically.
