Atie

Katie's hands were shaking, and, to her embarrassment, she was beginning to sweat despite the chilly room. She had missed rent for the first time last month, and now she was sitting on a cold leather couch about to interview for nude modeling.

He said it was tasteful,

she thought, although she wasn't naïve enough to be convinced that it was. Ricky, the photographer, was grossly overweight, with thick, knobby hands and a hair line that had finished receding years ago. The way his eyes lingered on Katie's breasts made her want to cross her arms.

"Are you ready to begin?" he said, smiling like a shark.

"Y-yes," she whispered.

"Excuse me?" Ricky leaned forward, tilting his head toward her. "Speak up, please."

Katie took a deep breath,

You only have to work for him a few times

. At a thousand dollars a day, her debts would be paid off in no more than three shoots. "Yes, I'm ready," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

"Okay, okay, good. Just follow my directions." Ricky took a camera out of his desk. "Stand, please."

She stood up, her cheeks burning. She wanted to run back to her apartment and hide, but she didn't have that option.

"Good, good. Now turn. You're in very good shape, very lovely skin. What's your ethnicity?"

"I'm Mexican," she replied."

Ricky grunted in confirmation, still taking pictures. The

click-click-click

of the camera's shutter made her nervous.

"When did you turn eighteen?" he asked.

"A few m-months ago," she said, still too nervous to get rid of the embarrassing stutter.

"Okay, take off your top."

Katie's heart hammered.

Oh my God. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I'm not ready.

She swallowed, "I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know if I can."

Ricky's mouth worked, then he spoke in a carefully controlled tone. The kind that suggested simmering anger just beneath the surface. "Listen. I am very busy. This is your one chance to model here. Do you understand? You can't change your mind and come back later." She nodded her head to indicate that she did. "Good. Then think for a moment and then tell me, 'yes', or 'no', are you doing this or not."

More than anything, Katie wanted to take a shower and wash the shame and humiliation of Ricky's hungry eyes off her skin. She thought about looking for a different job, but knew that anywhere else, she wouldn't be able to pay her rent on time, let alone her credit card bills. For the first time, she really considered asking her parents for help.

After the fight we had about going to school here? No. I've got to prove I can take care of myself.

"Well?" he asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Katie studied her shoes. "Yes, I'll do it,"

"Good, good," he smiled again, not even trying to hide the smug satisfaction on his face. "Take your shirt off then."

Katie took a shaking breath, hesitated, then pulled her t-shirt up over her head. Goosebumps rose on her arms in the chilly air. Her bra was white with pink stripes, and she suddenly felt very embarrassed about how girlish it looked.

Ricky assessed her out loud like a piece of meat. "Good stomach. Very flat and firm. Tan is consistent throughout." Then to her, "Very good. How tall are you?

"About five one." Her voice was shaking.

"Okay, take the jeans off."

Katie sat down to untie her Chuck Taylor's, taking her time. She could see Ricky getting a little impatient, but she needed a few breaths before she could take her jeans off for him. She hadn't realized it until just now, but her body, for some horrible reason, was becoming aroused. Katie could feel her panties getting damp, and she didn't want the humiliation of Ricky seeing that.

But she was barefoot now, and couldn't think of another way to stall except to walk out, and she couldn't do that. She stood up and unzipped her jeans, wiggling out of them.

Ricky leered at her wetness, but didn't say a word. In a way, that made Katie feel even more uncomfortable. She bit her lip and felt the color rise in her cheeks. Ricky took some more pictures, having her face front, back, and sideways for him, then said, "Now everything else."

Katie closed her eyes—

Just a few times,

she reminded herself—and reached back to unclip her bra. She let if fall to the floor but instinctively covered herself. Her panties were soaked. Absurdly, she wanted nothing more than to be at home alone so she could masturbate and relieve the tension building up in her.

What's wrong with me?

Ricky twirled his fingers in a "keep going," gesture.

Katie's teeth began to chatter, not from the cold, but from an overload of nerves and arousal. She had never felt this way before. She absolutely did not

want

to be here, but she also no longer wanted to leave.

She slid her panties off, the cool air lighting her nerves up, nearly causing her to moan out loud. She took a deep, shaking breath.

"You have small breasts, but a nice shape." Ricky leaned forward, "Your nipples are great. Brown and hard. But your pussy is the money maker. And you're getting so wet. Do you enjoy this Katie?" Ricky asked, again with another of his damn smiles. He seemed to have one for every occasion.

Yes!"

No!" she shouted in embarrassment.

"Come toward me," he said.

Katie stepped closer to Ricky, and then, without warning, he reached out and squeezed her breasts, pinching her nipples lightly. The sensation was incredible, the experience was not. She felt so humiliated she wanted to cry. And then Ricky reached up with his other hand and stroked her clit. She was wet and slippery, and despite how ashamed she felt, her eyes rolled back and her hips pushed against his finger.

This time she couldn't help it, she groaned against his touch, her knees weak and shaking. The room was spinning and she thought she was going to collapse. This fat, disgusting man was touching her most private places, and her body wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. Before Katie could figure out the emotions running through her, Ricky had backed away, physically spinning her around.

Yes! Please!

For one terrifying, confusing moment, she thought—hoped—that he was going to fuck her. Instead, he picked up his camera and took more pictures like nothing at all had happened.

A moment later, he was done. "Great, lets have a seat and talk."

Katie—humiliated, ashamed, confused, aroused, disappointed—picked up her panties, wanting desperately to get dressed and run home, but Ricky stopped her. "I like you better naked, just sit." Katie obeyed, not really sure why. "I think you're wonderful. I have a shoot I'd like you to do, but it's today. Can you do it?"

Today?

she thought. For a moment she hoped that he would be the photographer.

Oh my God. What am I thinking? I would have let him fuck me.

After what had just happened, she needed more time to decide how she felt about all this. "Today is too soon. When is the next one?" she said, embarrassed by how out of breath she was.

"Okay. No problem," he said, disappointed. "In that case, the next opening is in about six months."

Her heart sank. "Six months?"

"This one's only available because my model is stuck in Seattle."

Katie became uncomfortably aware that she had only two choices. Model for Ricky, or go back to her parents. She would lose her car and her phone. She would never get an education, and that meant never leaving the shitty town she grew up in.

But what does modeling for Ricky mean?