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Review This Story || Author: Smackmagnet

Carlton\'s Studio

Part 1


© smackmagnet


I brought my mate who had this photography studio this bird who hadn't paid my rent. She hadn't paid me for about five months and at first cause she was kind of nice looking and I sort of fancied my chances so I didn't do anything about it, but after a point it got ridiculous and I told her to pay up or get out. And she obviously didn't have anyone to fall back on cause she never came up with any money. Wouldn't or couldn't tap the parent or parents for it, obviously no boyf with a few quid ready to help out, and she was fucked cause she'd been too lazy to get a job. So she begged me not to chuck her out on her ear and in a moment of kindness I told her if she couldn't come up with the cash she'd have to work her way out of it. Only I don't know any blokes who run girls as prozzies, but I do know this half a mate who runs this seedy photography studio. I mean, proper seedy, all he did was rent out studio space to blokes who wanted to take dirty pictures of dirty birds. Had this model book full of 'em. So one night I really lost it with her and I told her she'd got to put herself on his books and be a photographic model. She begged off of any boy girl stuff, only most togs who use that place don't want to see that stuff, what they want is a bird on her own who's showing all she's got.

Anyway I know I'm cutting to the chase here but I made her come with me to this mate's place and my mate said she weren't bad but he'd seen better, only he'd also seen a lot worse. So he took her in the back and took a few figure pictures of her for his book.

He brought her out where I was sitting with my cuppa after that and he went to me, "How much she owe you then?"

"Five months," I said.

"Five months rent? How much is that in actual?"

"Three thousand quid."

"Fucking hell, what's she living in, a palace?" he went pulling this gurney face.

"Going rate," I said. "One bed flat."

"So how fast you want it back?"

"Fast as possible," I told him.

"Cause three thousand quid's a lot of hours this girl's got to clock up. And I don't know if I've got enough togs on my books to earn her that much. Not unless she does a big variety of styles, anyroad. Thirty quid an hour is standard here for UK mag style, forty for American mag and only fifty for toys. I can't scare the punters off, can I? Half my lot are doing this off their pensions. I mean if she did all that and she did a bit of proper fetishy stuff on the side we might get a bit more, but I can't charge for her more'n I charge for the other girls, can I?"

I don't think the girl had much of a clue what any of them phrases meant, cause she wasn't somebody who'd ever though of doing this before, she wasn't a natural wannabe model.

But anyway he put her on his books. He didn't photograph her himself for some reason, like he normally does with the other girls. Cause it's part of his agreement with them, he takes a few free sets when he feels like it and they get to stay on his books. Possibly he just hadn't got around to it, I don't really know what reason.

Anyway one bloke showed an interest even though Carlton said she was a complete ingenue. I think basically with new girls, he says they're unpublished and that's sort of supposed to be a selling point, that they might get the first publishable pictures of these birds and make a few quid off them. So this first tog takes her pictures. And Carlton never told me at the time because basically I wasn't there, but he told me after when it all blew up, that he asked this first bloke if he was happy with her afterwards, and the bloke was less than a hundred percent enthusiastic.

But anyway there was a second bloke as well, only he never said nothing after his shoot, he just skipped off out of the studio before the bird did. But this third bloke, I think it must have been a couple of weeks after, Carlton asked him straight after his two hour shoot if she'd done alright for him, cause the bloke was looking a bit leery, and the bloke said he felt like he'd wasted his money.

Now, Carlton is nothing if he's not a bit pragmatical sometimes. And this bloke saying he felt like he'd wasted his money, well that was a no-no in his book, because his togs are the blokes who pay his rent for him, right? What it all comes down to is, it's the togs, not the models, who've got to be kept happy. So if one of his paying customer gets pissed off and feels like he's wasted his hard-earned, well that's a big problem for Carlton cause he might lose a good repeat punter. So he asks the bloke if he's paid the girl and the bloke says he has. So my mate Carlton calls her into the office with them both and he tells her point-blank to give the punter his money back, all of it. Plus Carlton never charges him the studio rental. Then he tells the girl to wait in the changing room while he calls the second bloke, the one who never said nothing, and he asks him straight, "You know that bird you photographed? Did you get more or less what you was wanting from that one?"

And this bloke says, "Well to be perfectly honest with you Carlton, no not really."

"Seriously? How comes?" Carlton asks him.

"Well I wouldn't normally talk about what I do in a shoot," this second tog says, "but to be frank, I found her a bit stingy with her posing."

"Stingy how?" Carlton asks. "If you wouldn't mind calling a spade a spade for me."

And the bloke says the following: "That girl takes forever to get into a pose. Once she's in it she stays in it for about five seconds then moves out of it, so all you get is one snap then it's back trying to coax back her to opening her legs. Plus she seriously resists getting into some pretty standard poses. And with that bird, wider consistently means wider by about a millimetre. And the next time. Add the next time. And she don't even fucking smile."

And Carlton tells the punter than another bloke has just told him the same thing and he's given him his money back. And he asks the bloke what would he prefer, his money back or a free shoot with the same bird after Carlton himself has taught her what her job is? And the bloke says that while the money is tempting, what he really wanted all along was a proper session taking some proper dirty pics, and how can he guarantee that the bird will do right the second time what she did all wrong the first time? And Carlton says just leave it to him, once he's done with her she'll jump when he says jump and spread when he says spread, as wide as he fucking wants.

"How long was your session with her then?" Carlton asks.

"Two hours, Carlton," the punter tells him.

"I'll give you four hours for absolute free with her, no model fees, no studio fees," Carlton tells him. "What was she supposed to go up to?"

"American spreading," the bloke says.

"Is that what you're after or would you fancy inserts thrown in?" Carlton asks.

"Well I mostly just want the American," says the bloke. But if she'll throw in some dirtier shots as well I'd not say no."

"She'll do you full-on American and you can get her to stick whatever you feel like up her snatch, so long as it fits," Carlton says, "And if you've got any problems at all with her you can call me in and I'll fucking sort her out."

"Sounds more than generous," the bloke says.

"And so far as the spreading goes, you can demand it from the first pose to the last. I can't have my members going away dissatisfied. You give her a pose, and she don't do it as full-on as quick as a flash, and hold it till the cows come home, then I'll be a Dutch uncle."

Straight after this call he gave me a bell and I had to cope with him ranting on for what seemed like half an hour about me and her losing him his fucking business. Then he tells me to get over his place pronto. And to be honest I'd been on my way there anyway cause I was hoping to pick up the hundred nicker she was just supposed to have earned for me.

When I get there this last punter's already left but the bird's still in the changing room. And Carlton says to me, "She's a fucking liability mate." And I look proper upset and ask him, "Can't we just train her up and give these blokes a freeby to make it up? And he stares at me and says, "Well at least there we're on the same fucking page," and he calls the stupid tart out for a grilling.

She's looking a bit in shock and I'm pretty certain she's been able to hear a lot of his ranting over the blower. She's not changed out of her modelling gear yet, she's looking seriously sheepish like she's been caught out by the teacher. It's like that sometimes with these young birds, Carlton tells me, cause all their lives up to here they've been brainwashed to accept the authority of their elders and betters and just cause they've been away from school for a couple of years doesn't mean they've been cured of the habit.

Even so, when Carlton starts ranting straight at her, she starts to get how serious it is. "You owe Alan three thousand nicker," he says. "Three fucking thousand. So I take you on here out of the fucking kindness of my heart, doing a mate a bit of a favour to help you and him out of a tricky situation. And what the fuck do you do? How do you fucking repay this kindness? That feller who booked you just told me he felt like he'd wasted his money! And the first bloke who took pics of you said you weren't exactly all that. So I phoned the second bloke, who hadn't said nothing, and he tells me exactly why it is you're such a waste of fucking space! You pose too slow, he says, way too fucking slow! Then once he finally gets you in the semblance of a decent pose, you stop in it for about three seconds or one measly snap then fucking stand up so he's got to start all over again! And worst of the fucking lot, he tells me that even when you are posing for them measly three fucking seconds, you're fucking stingy with it! He tells you to spread - no you're right, darling, I'm not mincing my fucking words, so don't look at him for help - he tells you wider and wider to you means half a fucking millimetre! Are you trying to destroy my fucking business for me? You fucking waste of space, I now have three of my best customers thinking I'm pushing a dodgy model on them and basically fucking cheating them out of their money! What d'you think that kind of thing's going to do for my reputation? Cause those buggers'll tell other buggers and before you know it my entire fucking clientele will be deserting me, you stupid little cow! And on top of all that there's my good mate Alan here who's now seriously embarrassed by how much you're embarrassing me, plus he ain't getting a fucking penny off of you today cause I had no option but to give your entire fee - and my own fucking studio hire fee - back to the punter!"

She's standing there flinching as he flings each grubby little charge at her. Her eyes are looking teary, she's red in the face and there's more than a hint of trembling.

"Well?" he shouts. "What have you got to say for yourself?

"Um… sorry?" she squeaks.

"Sorry? Is that it?"

She just stands there, knees pointing in, like a rabbit caught in headlights.

"Jesus, what a waste of space. You fucking will be sorry by the time I've finished with you. Through there now! Back in the studio, you pathetic little tart."

"Sorry?" she goes.

"Get in the fucking studio! Now!"

She jerks forward like she's been hit with a whip. Well he'd shouted at her, hadn't he?

"What you gonna do wiv her?" I ask him as she disappears inside.

"We," he says.

"We what?"

"What are we gonna do with her? She's your fucking responsibility as well as mine, sunshine. So you're in there with me and we're fucking teaching her a lesson."

"A lesson like what?" I ask him.

"A lesson like we teach her her fucking job, and we make sure she ain't gonna forget it. You're on the video camera and I'm taking stills, and we teach her how to leave my punters fucking happy."

I'm still a bit shaky about the idea. "What, you fink it's appropriate?" I ask. "Like, I am still her landlord."

"Jesus Christ," he says in a furious whisper. "We're going in there. Both of us, me and you. And we don't come out till we're absolutely fucking certain that that stupid little cunt you brought me will never piss off another one of my punters. Not for a single fucking second!

Review This Story || Author: Smackmagnet
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