Christine; A Photo Start

My girlfriend and I had just got back from a photo shoot. Our friend and photographer had been using us for some time now to model fashions for one of her accounts. She put together their internet catalog for them using the clothes they furnished and us as models. Roberta, the photographer, had started my girlfriend’s career in modeling three years ago. Since then she has used her quite regularly, for internet catalogs and one time shoots for magazines.

A year ago, she had asked her if she knew any males that might be model material. Patricia, my girlfriend, had showed her a picture that she had on her I-phone of me and Roberta had asked her to have me come in. After a lot of cajoling on my girlfriend’s part, I finally agreed to go in. Roberta took a couple of hundred photos of me that day, in every kind of pose imaginable.

I didn’t hear anything back for several weeks. I asked Patricia about it, with her standard reply being that Roberta was working with the pictures and showing them around to some of her clients. For some insane reason I thought there was something more to it, since every time Patricia talked about it, she would giggle a little. Finally after four weeks, Roberta asked me to come and in and sign some contracts.

I was shown some of the workups that she had put together for her clients. Then she offered me a contract to model for her professionally, a five-year contract, with an option for five more. I read through the contract, not finding anything that looked detrimental to me. The pay was fifty dollars an hour, payable at the end of the month. Location shots were payed only on time spent before the camera. However, travel expenses would be the responsibility of the photographer. If the pictures were used in a catalog or magazine there would also be a royalty for number of publications printed.

I asked Patricia about one part of the contract, not understanding what it said. It stated that I agreed to model any clothes, makeup, accessories that Roberta, the photographer, deemed necessary for the shoot. Patricia dismissed it as a clause to keep Roberta protected in case I decided to balk wearing something that the shoot required. It made sense, in a way, but I wondered if that could backfire on me in the future. I re-read the contract again and then signed it.

Roberta had offered me a five hundred dollar signing bonus if I would allow her to take some more pictures of me wearing only a speedo swimsuit. I thought it a little unusual, but agreed, the money could come in handy. The poses she had in mind were definitely out of the ordinary, she even had Patricia pose in some of them with me. The shots were more like a cheesecake picture, but in a skimpy bathing suit I couldn’t see how it would be beneficial to Roberta. This type of photo of a woman, I could see, but not of a male in a swimsuit.

After the session she paid me in cash, I thanked her profusely, then headed to a baseball game that I wanted to see that evening. As I left, Roberta and Patricia were giggling to themselves looking at the pictures that Roberta had taken on the computer. I shrugged my shoulders, not understanding women at all, and was on my way.

I was pleased with the job Roberta had given me since I didn’t have a regular job at the moment. I had kept myself in some spending money by working several part-time jobs. This would supplement my income nicely, allowing me to quit one of the part-time jobs. The golden arch job was the first to go, I was not the fast food type, besides everyone there was at least ten years younger than me.

I should tell you a little about myself. My name is Chris, short for Christopher. I am twenty-two years old, a year younger than Patricia. We met in college, her a major in theater arts and my major being business management. I had seen her performing in one of the shows put on by the drama club. Since we shared a French class, I complimented her on her performance. She was playing a French entertainer in a play written by one of the drama students.

She was good, the clothes were exceptional, but the story itself stunk. From that moment on, we got together regularly, enjoying each other’s company. In our sophomore year, we decided to rent an apartment together off campus. We were both level headed enough to refrain from any romantic stuff, other than a kiss from time to time.

Our goals were similar, graduate with our BA degrees, find a job, and then participate in the search for companionship, a soulmate to be exact. We were not totally celibate by any means, since we dated, went to movies, ate out a lot, but anything more than kissing and hugging stayed off the menu.

A lot of our friends thought we were nuts, but as one by one they had difficulties with their relationships, our strategy proved to be one of the better choices. I know for me it was exceptionally hard. Patricia was a pretty girl, although she dressed mostly in jeans and tops, that combination was just the right look for her.

I had to endure many cold showers, trying to avoid messing up the plans we had for college. It would be so easy to get carried away, loving the gorgeous girl that was near me almost every day. To hug or kiss her, and then walk away from that goddess of beauty was a very difficult task. Cold showers and long runs at night to wear me out were often used, to combat my desires, I must add to little success.

Neither of us had many relatives still alive, both our families were single parent, with no other siblings. Patricia had a father living in California, and my mother lived in Florida. We didn’t see them very often, both of them lived in active retirement communities, enjoying their lives without the children. Our parents had reasonable success in financial matters, her father in real estate, and my mother courtesy of the stock market. Our college was paid for by trusts, set up by our parents, for that purpose.

Since we lived together, a routine was worked out where we shared cooking and cleaning chores. Patricia was much better a cook than me, although, I could do the basics. When it came to cleaning, I was the hands down winner. Pat even had difficulty picking up after herself. I would constantly bring this to her attention, her reply being that is what I have you for.

The first few months working for Roberta, I managed about ten hours a week. Although that was not a lot of hours, I earned far more working for her than both my part-time jobs. As some of my photos were seen, Roberta had more customers wanting to use me. The most requests were for both my girlfriend and me together. Her internet customer wanted their catalog revised showing most of the pictures using both of us in the photos.

I never saw the attraction that some people saw in my photos. I was not ugly by any means, but totally lacked any macho, he-man looks. I guess the best description of my looks was, an average male with androgynous looks. I was definitely in between the two sexes. Patricia also kidded me that if I wore a dress I would be seen as a female, in jeans and a t-shirt I would be seen as a male. I always thanked her for the negative vibes, she just kissed me and giggled.

At the start of the third month, business really picked up. I was putting in twenty to thirty hours a week, and Patricia was averaging thirty-five hours. Roberta and Pat were also up to something. Every minute when she was not snapping photos, Patricia and Roberta were on the computer doing something in her Photoshop program. I was curious, but since it didn’t concern me directly, I tried to ignore the giggling and whispering.

Finally about three weeks later, Roberta asked Patricia and me to dinner at the studio. She had a business proposition she wanted to discuss with us. Since the studio was also her house, dinner at the studio was not out of the ordinary. When we got there, the table was set for three, with china, silver, and linen present. The meal was excellent, a prime rib, with asparagus, baked potatoes in a butter sauce, and a delicious salad with fifteen different greens and lettuces. I knew roberta could no boil water without burning it, so she obviously had it catered at considerable expense.

The wine she picked was wonderful, a sweeter wine than I was used to, but great with the meal. I was immediately wondering what the real reason was for this dinner. Patricia obviously knew a little more than I did, but the two of them were constantly looking my way to see my expression.

After a tea was served with European butter cookies, I finally asked Roberta what she was after. She and Patricia giggled, then asked me if I would join them in a joint business partnership. I must have look shocked since both giggled some more than Patricia took hold of my hand. They had made a montage of shots over the last few months that they wanted me to watch. Roberta had set up the screen she used to shoot against when she wanted the pictures to have no visible background.

The computer started projecting the pictures on the screen one by one. I remember the particular shots, but in place of my image there was a very attractive female. As the computer went through the repertoire of photographs, I noticed that the face was mine, but the body had been altered to that of a female. The hair was longer and, of course, there is now makeup present.

I realized that Roberta had used the cheesecake shots and somehow had altered them to make me look like a female. I didn’t say anything to them, just watched the photos being displayed. The ones with both Patricia and I were truly fabulous, maybe a little too erotic, but sensual none the less. After the computer had gone through the whole series, Roberta asked what I thought. With tongue in cheek, I asked her who the new model was.

Patricia took in a little too much air at one time, starting a coughing fit. Roberta looked over at me, trying to decide if I was for real or just pulling their leg. I smiled, then asked Pat if she was having an affair with the new model. By that time, she saw I was kidding and launched herself at me trying to hurt me. She dissolved into a fit of giggles, with Roberta and me joining her shortly thereafter.

After everyone calmed down Roberta explained the photos and the business deal. Her hobby, besides photography, is altering pictures. She uses Photoshop and has become quite proficient at it. She was playing around with our pictures, trying to see if the idea she had, would have some merit. The altered pictures turned out better than she expected.

She sent some teasers to several of her customers, seeing if any of them would be interested. Well, the response was overwhelming, she had nine commitments for catalogs, calendars, and advertising campaigns. She quoted a couple of prices, doubling her normal rates, and they asked for contracts that they could sign. The calendar deal is probably the best, a flat fee, plus a royalty for each calendar sold.

Now the problem was she needed me to be that model. I thought that she just wanted me to pose for the shots, and then she would Photoshop them to what she wanted. I told her that there would be no problem with me posing for the shots. Both Patricia and she gave me a funny look; then she dropped the other shoe.

I need you to be the other model, as you see her on the screen, tits, hair, makeup, etc. I turned instantly red in the face, getting up from my chair and backing up from the two of them. Whoa, you can’t be serious about this. Pat came over and grabbed my hand and got me to sit again. She set in my lap, obviously trying to slow any possible escape.

Before I could say anymore, Roberta started the computer again, showing different altered photos of me in a calendar, dressed in outfits for a catalog, and even in an internet advertisement. I will have to admit the photos were good, too good for a male disguised as a female. The look was professional, well at least the catalog and the internet ad, the calendar was just plain lewd.

I had managed to calm down a little, deciding to ask some questions to keep my mind off the absurdity of the idea. I asked what type of money we were talking about here. Somewhere between three hundred thousand and a half million dollars on the nine proposed contracts. That is with her expenses already taken out. It was her proposal that we divide the remaining monies in a forty, thirty, thirty split. I was dividing the total, in my mind, coming up with a hundred thousand minimum for me.

That would be at least three years’ salary once I got to that level of job. I told her that I could do a lot with a hundred thousand, but was interrupted by Roberta. Since you are the principal model, the forty percent goes to you. Pat gets thirty since she will be in some of the photos, but you are going to be in almost all of the others.

Pat tried to regain my attention, trying to make me aware that something else had to come along with the great money. She thought that my mind had not gotten that figured out yet. Then as if a switch had been thrown, it came to me, I was to become that new female model. I stammered a little, not knowing what to say, but finally asked if she photoshopped the first pictures, why she couldn’t do them all.

Her response was quick, not enough time to do that. Each photo that was altered required a least five hours, thus making any large-scale alteration almost impossible. That left me back at the start, as they wanted me to become a female model, to fulfill the contracts. I told them that the money was great, but living my life as a female was not high on my priority list.

The conversation suddenly stopped for a while since no one knew what to say next. Roberta decided to jump in first, telling me that my features made my photos remarkable. My facial features, in particular, really suited the camera lens. There was a unique look associated with me that appealed to a large audience. In a way, it was like the girl next door, recognizable, sexy, erotic, and many other distinctive adjectives. The truth is that people feel comfortable with the image presented in the photos.

I asked them if I did this, what all would be required of me. Both of them looked at each other, wondering who was going to answer my question. Mentally, apparently Patricia lost, and she responded. I was told that she was not going to sugar coat the answer since the truth would be hard to take, but probably the best in the long run.

The next few words will forever be etched in my mind, you need to live and breathe Christine 24/7 for the foreseeable future. I held up my hand trying to interject absolutely no into the conversation. Before I could get it out, Roberta got her reply in, in less than ten years you could net almost a million dollars doing this. Well, that shut me up, I am now speechless.

I guess I handled the situation like a normal female and fainted dead away. Patricia was holding a cold damp washcloth to my forehead when normal mental operations resumed. Pat helped me home, knowing that I would need some time to process what I had been told. Once home I was taken right to my bedroom as she helped get me undressed. After getting me under the sheets she kissed me on the lips, not like any other time she has done such a thing. My heart rate soared, my mouth stayed open, and I actually started to sweat a little. It must be hot in here. Another quick peck and she left me with my thoughts.

I laid there for the longest time staring at the ceiling, a few thoughts did enter my mind, but they were fleeting and not worth remembering. A little after midnight I succumbed to a restless sleep, turning and twisting all through the night. That became very apparent the next morning as my sheets were half off the bed, the remainder wrapped tightly around my legs. I extricated myself from them did my business in the bathroom, then got dressed. When I made my appearance in the kitchen, Pat took a look at me, trying to see if there was any indication on what I had decided. I helped myself to a bowl of cereal, then sat across from her to tell her what I decided.

“I presume you and Roberta have someplace in mind for my transformation. I will try it for one week, nothing permanent to see if I can live my life as a female. If I make it through the week, I will go along with this absurd plan, but there is one thing that you will have to promise me. At no time in this weird scenario will you leave me, if you do the deal is off. I might be able to cope with this new life, but without you any desire to do so is gone.”

Any further words were impossible as she attacked me, talk no longer possible. I asked when my appointment was for, her smirky smile appearing on her face, along with a few giggles. I asked when again. To my utter disbelief, tomorrow at eight A.M. was whispered to me. I swallowed hard, my last day as a male is now right in front of me.

Story Incomplete At Present

© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker

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