Photo Strip
Chapter 10 The Homecoming
We awoke as Harold walked into the room, this time depositing an excellent breakfast on the table, and leaving us to it. The four of us, Elspeth, Tanya, Dermot, and myself, our clothes still in the corporate possession of PhotoStrip, sat naked around the table and tucked in. Every now and again, someone would pass by in the corridor, and stop and peer in through the doorless doorway at us. We had become rather blase about this. When it happened, one of us would get up and flash everything we'd got at whoever was ogling us, in a most outrageous fashion, which was usually enough to embarrass them away down the corridor.
After breakfast Harold returned, and asked me to follow him. I assumed we were heading to the preparation room, where my clothes were stored in a locker. But we went straight to the front door of the castle, where Harold shook my hands, and said: "Goodbye Ian!" He pushed me through the door, and shut it behind me, before I could say "Where's my clothes?"
There I stood on the steps, naked and with no money or possessions, looking out onto the open expanse of this Scottish estate. I walked tentatively down the steps, and as I reached the bottom, a cab drew up. The window went down, and the driver looked at me enquiringly. "Ian?" he asked.
I got in, relieved that at least some arrangements had been made, but concerned that I was still helplessly naked. The cab set off, and as we left the grounds of the Photo Strip Estate, I became nervous sitting on the back seat, my bollocks on view to the nation. Before long, we reached Inverness airport, and I thought: "Have I got to check in like everyone else? Is this cabby going to abandon me, naked, in an airport, with no ticket?"
The cab took me out on to the concrete, and stopped by a small executive jet. "Out you get, laddy!" he said. Nervously I alighted the car, and walked the few yards to the steps of the plane, wondering what sort of reception I would get from the crew, arriving without attire. "Welcome aboard, I'm Melanie!" smiled the air hostess who greeted me at the door. "We've been expecting you. But we didn't realise ..." Her words trailed off, and her gaze moved to my prick.
I reddened, struggling to try to find words to explain my appearance. Almost worse than boarding the plane naked, was the fact that underneath those non-existent clothes I didn't even have my natural hair. Melanie showed me into the passenger cabin, furnished with soft leather sofas. She offered me a drink, and I opted for a G&T. She brought me a glass, a bottle of gin, a bottle of tonic, and a bucket full of ice.
We were just about to take off, when another passenger boarded. Jane! She sat in the sofa opposite me, as we taxied to the runway. "What are you doing here?" I demanded. "I've been following your progress through the tests. What I didn't see live, I watched on closed circuit TV," she said. "How could you have seen anything live?" I asked. "Well, for example, I was on the interview panel, in disguise," she revealed.
I was knocked for six. I didn't know what to say. Instead, Jane spoke. "You've done very well indeed!" she told me, as we started our take off run.
"Gus was most impressed. He's very keen to have you on board, so I have here a contract for you to sign." She handed me a document about ten pages long, opened at the last page, with space for myself and a witness to sign.
"Wait a minute, it will take a day or two to digest all that!" I protested, feeling I was being pressurised to sign on the spot. I started to read it, but it was going to be a nightmare, full of legalistic gobbledegook. "I'll simplify it, and run through the main clauses," offered Jane. "The thing is, if you don't sign it before we land, you may find that Tanya or Elspeth have signed before you get another chance, and there's only one vacancy at the moment. We have set up a training facility out our own studio, but it is only capable of handling one trainee at a time. And the course lasts four to six weeks." "If Gus wants me that badly, why doesn't he make another vacancy?" I asked. "Because," explained Jane, "the company can't afford it. You're being offered a salary of £150,000 per annum!"
Phew! I was almost ready to sign anything on the spot, without going into it any further. "Go on, then, simplify it for me!" I urged. "Come over here, and sit next to me," suggested Jane, patting the sofa. I moved across the cabin, and immediately Jane nestled her hand between my legs, holding the contract with the other, as she started to work through it.
"To start with, the contract will run for five years, and your salary will be £150,000 per annum. There's no extra for overtime, and for that money you may be required to work twenty four hour stints, be away from home overnight for long spells, and not only model for PhotoStrip stories, be at the beck and call of all the managements staff." "What does that mean I might be doing?" I asked. "Well, you could find yourself on cleaning duties, or deputising for Clive or myself in our absence. Possibly, and I'll be quite honest about this, you might be required to shag a visitor to the studios who's important to the company, and who fancies you." "That doesn't sound too bad," I had to admit. "Any other clauses I should know about?"
Jane riffled through the pages. "Here. When you're on Company premises, apart from costumes to fit the roles you may play, you will be required to dress as required by the local management. That may mean wearing uniforms, say, a doorkeeper's uniform if you were assigned that duty, or a cleaner's overalls if you were put on cleaning duties." I tried to imagine how they could justify paying someone £150,000 to clean the studios.
"Oh, give me the pen, then!" I grinned. £150,000 for five years! I'd be rich at the end of it! Jane pressed the button above her head to summon Melanie. "We need a witness," she explained. It wasn't Melanie who came in, it was Bob, a young steward. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw my naked state, and they dwelled at length on my genital area. Jane ordered a bottle of champagne. When she returned with it, I signed two copies of the contract, and Bob witnessed my signature.
"Join us for a celebratory drink!" invited Jane. Bob poured the drinks, and Jane proposed a toast. "To Photo Strip's newest professional model!" she exclaimed. We sipped our drinks. "A model?" asked Bob. "What sort of model?" "He acts out roles for photographic frames in picture stories. Don't you, Ian?" I nodded. "Stand up, and show Bob you body!" she suggested. "I'd rather not!" I protested. "But I insist. I'm your manager now. You've just signed a contract. What I say goes. Now stand up, and do some nice poses for young Bob here!"
I stood up, and minced around the room, holding various poses to expose myself to the full, as I knew Jane, and almost certainly Bob, wanted. "Hold it!" commanded Jane, when I had struck a particularly revealing pose with my legs well parted. She suggested to Bob that he might like to stroke my balls. Bob's hands eagerly fondled them, and Jane made me stand there until Bob had got me hard.
"You can touch what you like now, Bob" Jane invited, and Bob went to work on my prick. It was getting too much again. "I'm coming!" I screamed. As quick as lightning, to protect the carpet in the plush cabin, no doubt, Bob had my prick in his mouth, and sucked as I came. Her didn't spill a drop.
When I'd finished, Jane said: "Take him to the toilet and clean him up, Bob, there's a dear." Bob tended me with loving care, and I returned to the sofa next to Jane in time for the landing at Heathrow. "What am I to do?" I asked her, desperate now as to how to disembark in a major international airport completely naked. "Don't worry!" soothed Jane. "We're on a domestic flight. We don't have to go through immigration!"
The plane landed, and taxied to a hangar. Melanie opened the door and dropped the steps down into the hangar. As I passed her on the way out, she grabbed my balls and squeezed them in a friendly fashion. "Hope you enjoyed your flight sir!" she smiled as I alighted, to find myself among a maintenance crew ready to go over the plane. They looked at me in a strange way.
Jane followed down the steps, and ushered me into a private office. On the desk was a large cardboard storage box, and the suitcase which had been taken from me as I arrived at the castle.. "The contents of your locker in the Preparation Room are in the box," indicated Jane. I opened it and got dressed. It felt strange, the first time I had worn any clothing for three days. As I slipped my underpants on, I felt uncomfortable - my pubic hair that had been shorn during the first part of the dog story, had grown to a short stiff stubble, and it was itching.
Jane handed me an envelope stuffed with twenty pound notes. "Your pay for the ordeal!" she smiled. When I had finished dressing, Jane led the way out of the airport, and we boarded a tube. During the journey, Jane suggested I spend the next day organising my affairs, as for the next five years I wouldn't be seeing much of my home, friends, or family. "You don't get a salary of £150,000 without some sort of sacrifice, after all!" she said. "Return to the Studio on Wednesday, at 10 am sharp!" she said. "Be prepared for the fact you may not get home for a few weeks -we've a lot of things lined up for you!" "How many days shall I pack for?" I asked. "Bring nothing. Come as you are," Jane instructed. "Everything you need will be provided."
At that point the tube drew in to my station, and we parted. I walked down the road, and looked up at the familiar block of flats. I took the lift, and got out at my floor. Opening the door, I suddenly came over very weary.
I dropped my luggage in the lounge, and went straight to the bathroom for a shower. I came out still weary, but utterly refreshed, and headed for the bedroom. There, to my astonishment, was my ex girl friend, Irene, poking around in drawers and wardrobe.
"What are you doing here?" I asked. I hadn't seen her since she walked out on me, giving me cause to do part time work for Photo Strip to help pay for the flat on my own.
"I've come to collect my things I left behind when I moved out," she said. I've been head hunted by a chap called Clive. He was looking for an ex prison warder, so I fitted the bill. He offered me the job. I've done some basic training, and I start proper in a couple of days. He told me that I'll be expected to live in-house much of the time.."
"What's the name of the company?" I asked. "It's called Photo Strip. They produce photo strips with word bubbles, for trashy soft porn magazines." "And not always soft," I thought, saying nothing. "And what's your role in this outfit?" I asked. "I'm in charge of what they call 'core' staff," Irene explained. "I'll be supervising them and training them. With the help of an assistant, that is!"
"Well, congratulations!" I smiled. "A new job, and an assistant, too! What sort of training did you do?" I added, casually. "You'd never believe it if I told you!" she replied. "Try me," I suggested. "They've trained me in supervising and administering what they call 'body optimisation and control'" Irene continued. "That means ensuring the bodies of the core staff under my control are brought up to maximum shape and performance, and then kept there. I will also control the day to day activities of the core staff, and the training was in techniques in coercing people to do what they don't really want to do."
"And what makes these people let you get away with it?" I asked, incredulously. "A combination of contract clauses, remuneration, and physical sanctions," she replied.
Phew! It took a while for all that to sink in, and the implications to be considered. I was still churning things over in my mind, when Irene zipped up the bag she had been packing. "Goodbye!" she called over her shoulder. "Au revoir!" I thought, as she closed the door behind her. I needn't worry, though, I had already had my Photo Strip training. They were obviously expanding, and recruiting more staff, hence the need for a specialist training section.
I rang David, had a chat with him, and, knowing that he lived in lodgings, asked if he would be interested in caretaking my flat while I was away 'on business' He was, and promised to come round the next day, as he had no assignments on.
I related the coincidence of Irene being given a job by Clive. I explained about her role in training 'core staff'. "I hope you read your contract thoroughly," David warned. "It sounds to me as if you are one of the 'core'staff. If so, after that insight, all I can say is - Best of Luck!"
To be continued ....