Corruption of Alison

This story takes a while to reach its climax. Stay patient and give me your feedback.

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Randal marveled at his good fortune as he watched her apply the vanilla brown sugar scented lotion to her long tan legs. Alison Prentice was their hometown's catch. She was the valedictorian of their class, the cheerleading squad's captain and had won two state championships as an all-state pitcher for her fast-pitch softball team. She always floated above the rest of the population, especially the kids in the trenches—those that drank, partied, and generally caused trouble for their small town parents. Alison was damn near perfect, and that didn't even account for her beauty. Randal accounted for it now.

Alison sat tall on their bed, wearing a matching silk bra and underwear with a bright orange and red flower pattern. Her blonde hair, straightened since graduation, hung forward over her collarbones. They seemed like arrows pointing down to her firm breasts which jiggled slightly as she raised her legs and rubbed the lotion into her tan skin. She stood, extending her 5'9" frame to full length, and then turned. Randal loved to look at her perfect ass. He imagined how the silk would feel while rubbing it. Alison always dressed sexier than normal when she was going to a shoot.

When accounting for his good fortune, Randal recognized it was a miracle he was even with Alison. Randal wasn't a jock. He excelled in academics and the arts. Considering he had arrived at their high school at the end of their junior year, he was hardly popular. He became very popular however, when he and Alison started dating when they both starred in the school's spring musical.

They quickly became the closest of friends as well as young lovers. Despite many academic opportunities, the two planned on moving to the coast together. Randal would write screenplays while Alison pursued her acting and modeling dreams. It seemed, though, that only Alison was getting any work. She had even appeared in a commercial that aired regionally.

It would be easy for Randal to be bitter about her early success, but he wasn't. The fact was he loved her. He loved her beauty, of course. He loved her intelligence and ability to raise the intellectual stakes of a conversation. Most of all, he loved that, despite her intelligence, she possessed an innocent naiveté that reflected her small town upbringing.

Their move rocked the small town they were from, but it mostly hurt their parents who better understood the perils of a cruel world and the value of the opportunities they were giving up. In addition, the fact the unmarried couple would be living together suggested a scandalous future lifestyle. Much to Randal's chagrin, that lifestyle never materialized. The two had been virgins the summer night they consummated their agreement to leave town together. Randal expected their sexual experiments to evolve to match his teenage fantasies, but Alison never did. Sex was a chore she seemed to endure once a week, sometimes once every two weeks. Alison's body was built for speed; she just never broke the speed limit. Randal, only nineteen and a year into their west coast experiment, didn't want to push the good fortune that he often took account of. Alison was his trophy and he was happy to keep it on the proverbial mantle in fear that he might take it down and break it.

Now, his trophy was bending over to pull up the jeans she had just stepped into. Randal wanted to investigate. He caught Alison as she pulled the pair of tight-fitting jeans over her hips and fastened the button.

"Sexy! Where you heading?" he asked despite knowing the answer.

Alison's face grew flush and then she smiled brightly and answered, "Are you spying on me peeping tom? I'm going to a job uptown. Just a catalog shoot."

"Cool. Anybody I know?" he asked. He had met a few of the photographers that the agency used when he visited some of Alison's shoots.

"No. I don't even know him, but the agency says he's good." she replied.

"You going to be home for dinner?" he asked.

"Should just be a couple of hours. You never know though. Go ahead and eat if it gets late," she replied as she collected her keys and purse.

"Alright. It sucks though. I finally got a night off and you have to work. Sucks to be me I guess," he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Alison seemed to slow down for a second. She melted him with a smile and said, "You know I want to be home too baby. Look, I'll make it up to you when I get home. Promise."

"Great. I can't wait," he responded with a smile. In his head he sarcastically thought, "Yay! Another night of kissing and cuddling!"

She kissed him goodbye and walked out of the apartment.

As the door closed, Randal made a decision. He knew that Alison had been working hard and had lost some weight recently. He didn't want her to miss a meal. He would surprise her by picking her up at the shoot location and then take her to their favorite restaurant. He seemed satisfied with his decision until he realized that he didn't know where the shoot was.

Randal rushed to the apartment window and watched as Alison climbed onto a bus. He noted its number and ran out of the apartment. He intended to follow the bus and find out where the shoot was and wait for it to end. He climbed into the car and in two minutes, found the bus and began following it.

After a short drive, the bus stopped outside a trendy area, with high end shops on both sides of the street. Alison got off the bus and walked down a narrow walkway between two buildings. Randal felt lucky when he found a nearby parking spot. He got out of his car and casually started in the direction she walked, ensuring he kept his distance to maintain the element of surprise.

About fifty feet in front of him, he saw Alison walk into what looked like a refurbished warehouse. He had been to a number of shoots, but never to this studio and never in this part of the city. He advanced toward the building to get a closer look but then stopped. He was never jealous by his calculations and fully accepted that his girlfriend was a model and actress that went to places and had pictures of her beautiful face and body taken. "I'll just wait in the car until she returns to the bus stop," he thought and turned around.

The strange location, though, made him pause again. He couldn't help himself. He walked back to the glass doors of the building. On the glass it read "Tony Cortez". Once again, Randal stopped and asked himself what he was doing. "This is crazy dude," he told himself. Randal just could not shake off his curiosity. He looked through the glass doors and noticed that a long, brick-walled hallway was behind it. On the hallway's left were large doors that he assumed led into a studio area. At the end of the hall was a steel staircase that led up to a steel platform that stood in front of another door twenty feet above the others.

Randal looked to his left and right. He squinted hard, not understanding why he absolutely had to enter the building and trying to convince himself to just leave. His curiosity, and for the first time Randal admitted a bit of jealousy, caused him to walk through the glass doors. When he did, he could smell the remnants of Alison's Chanel. He quietly, but quickly walked to the steel staircase and climbed them in two seconds flat hardly making a noise. At the top of the stairs, he grabbed the knob to the wooden door and winced as he pulled the door open. Surprisingly, it didn't make a sound. A rush of cool air hit him in the face as he inhaled deeply and steeled himself against the possibility of getting caught following his Alison.

He was pleasantly surprised to find himself looking down onto an open floor. In front of him and going around one side of the upper portion of the large room was a loft that allowed anyone to see all the action twenty feet below. Surprising himself with his seemingly reckless disregard towards getting busted, Randal entered the large room and stepped into the loft area. He felt lucky that the owner, he presumed the photographer "Tony Cortez", had wrapped tapestry-like patterns intermittently from the rails lining the loft. Randal planned on using these to position himself. He was spying on his girlfriend. He finally admitted it to himself and was disappointed that he couldn't overcome his strange suspicion.

A male voice said, "So you've only been modeling for a few months. You must have a lot of promise for Melinda to send you to me. You've heard of me yes?" the voice said with an accent that hinted of a Hispanic background.

Randal heard Alison's voice respond embarrassingly, "Actually no. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay. Probably better that way. The last thing I need is you nervous. In fact, have a drink. Take your pick from the bar to loosen yourself up." the voice suggested.

"I'm only nineteen Mr. Cortez. Besides, I only drink water. Better for the skin." Alison responded. Randal let out an internal sigh. "Good girl!" he thought.

"Well, as you like. Did the agency explain the account?" he asked.

"No." Alison replied.

The man began to raise his voice slightly, seeming to curse someone in Spanish. He then took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "Okay. Well, then you'll have to follow my instructions to the letter. You understand?" the voice said.

"Yes. Okay," Alison replied, as if being counseled by a school principal.

The voice seemed boomingly happy. "OKAY THEN! We will begin! The account is Vixen's summer collection. You've heard of them of course," he said.

There was a pause. Alison's voice finally replied, "Yes Mr. Cortez. But, uh, I've never done lingerie. I'm not sure if Melinda got me mixed up with someone else."

"No, no! Melinda talked about you for twenty minutes. Alison this, Alison that. Now that I see you, I know why! Anyway, you can ask her yourself. She'll be here any minute. Now, go back to the dressing room and get dressed. The outfits are in the order you'll appear in them," the voice said, loud as usual.

Randal knelt down and began to move further into the loft area high above the floor, trying to reach a spot between the tapestries so he could watch the conversation occurring below. After ten yards, he found a foot long gap that he could peek through. There, he saw a portly Hispanic man, around six feet tall, in what appeared to be flannel pajama pants and a loose button-up top with sleeves rolled up. It was certainly not what Randal expected to see. The man stood at a bar fixing a drink for a second, then walked back towards the back of the large open converted warehouse room. That was where it appeared the working end of the studio was.

There was a light knock on the studio door. Randal recognized it as Melinda, Alison's agent from the agency. Another woman followed her, pushing a cart. Randal guessed she would do hair and makeup for the shoot. Tony greeted Melinda with a hug and kiss on the cheek. The squatty lady and Tony engaged in small talk, but eventually lowered their voice. Tony started, "She's not comfortable Melinda."

"What's she not comfortable with 'T'?" Melinda asked.

"You didn't tell me she's never done lingerie. Shit, how old is she?" Tony continued.

"First of all, she's nineteen. Almost twenty. You're going to have to ease into this one. It's only her fourth shoot, but I think she's incredible. A natural talent. This account will blow her up. I recommended you because you can make the girls comfortable with it all," Melinda paused. "Look, she's just young. She's from the sticks, so..." Melinda seemed to be asking for help.

Tony stared at her for a few seconds. "Alright. But you need to be here. I can loosen her up, but I want you here if she starts to go crazy. Look, you know Vixen wants to see skin. Hell, they want to see everything! Action! I'm going to keep snapping pictures no matter what happens. It's as much about selling the catalog now as it is the merchandise. Plus, I never mentioned Eric coming in a couple hours." That made Randal's heart stop. Randal was wondering what the hell "Eric" had to do with anything. "She was your idea. You're the one who said we need a new face and sold Vixen on the "girl next door" shit. Get her on board Mel."

Randal watched as Melinda sighed and then began walking toward the dressing room. The interesting thing about the studio was that from his vantage point, Randal could see down into the dressing room, where Melinda entered to convince Alison that anything that was about to happen was just fine.

"Hey Melinda," Alison said, a little down from her previous cheeriness.

Melinda answered with, "Hey doll. You okay with this job? Tony thinks you're a bit uncomfortable."

Alison responded with almost a yelp. "No! It's not that." She then paused. "I've never done anything this risqué to tell you the truth. I thought swimsuits would be the limit."

Melinda sat down and took Alison's hand. "Alison, you have to trust me. Tony's one of the best and this account is huge. I know that you're nervous, but I'll be right here. The agency picked you for a reason. You're the best that we've got." Randal rolled his eyes. He wanted Alison to walk out immediately.

"Catalog shots. No face? No nudity?" Alison asked.

Melinda quickly answered. "Alison, we only go as far as you're comfortable. As far as the face, though, Vixen is looking to go in a new direction with their catalogs. They're themed. What that means is there will be vignettes.

Alison looked confused. Melinda continued. "For instance, the first one will have you playing a college sorority girl. Tony will take pictures of you, or your 'character', after she comes home from class. The next one will have you as a career professional woman. The third one will have you play a young bride." Randal noted that Melinda never mentioned nudity and she sure as hell didn't mention Eric.

Melinda then bluffed. "Look, let me go call this off. You're obviously not comfortable with this and I don't want to waste Tony's time..."

Alison cut her off. The account seemed huge and she didn't want to blow a big chance. "No Mel. I'll do it. I'll do it." Alison then got quiet. Randal wondered what Alison was agreeing she would do. Did she know what she was agreeing to?

Melinda smiled wide and kissed her on the cheek. "Alison, this is going to put you on the map!" She then called to the makeup lady to come prepare Alison. As she walked out, she grabbed the woman by the arm, "Rhonda, loosen her up. She looks terrified." Rhonda nodded as she continued into the room and set up.

"Hey girl!" Rhonda exclaimed as she entered the room. "I can't believe you got the Vixen account! Every girl at the agency would kill for this shoot!" Melinda stopped at the doorway to the dressing room, listened for a second, and then looked at Tony. She gave him a thumbs-up.

Randal sat on the floor and considered what was transpiring. He watched his girlfriend get primped in the dressing area. Tony prepared the dorm room set while Melinda made phone calls on her cell. Randal felt a pit in his stomach. He knew where this was leading and he hated it. He also knew, though, there was nothing he could do but watch. If Alison found out he had followed her, she'd be furious. If he interrupted, she'd be furious. Plus, this might just be her big shot, he reasoned. He sighed and decided that all he could do was just watch what was going to happen and hope for the best.

He looked back to the dressing room. Alison was standing in the silky panties and underwear that she left the apartment with and was looking through the lingerie hanging on the rack. She looked a little disturbed by it all. She finally picked up the first set of underwear. It was a cream lace bra with strategically placed flowers that would cover her nipples. She then held the panties in front of her and winced. The small amount of cloth that was an excuse for underwear was cream lace. It would cover her nether regions, but just barely. Also alarming to Alison was the fact that her ass would be covered by nothing. Only a string attached the front to the back. Alison wasn't a thong girl, but she'd have to be one today.

Alison was busy changing into her first outfit when another person entered the studio. "Eric!" Tony said. Tony met him at the door. "Look, I need you to go hang out for about an hour or so; get a coffee or something. This one is kind of new to all this. You need to give me a little to loosen her up." Randal was stunned. Eric was a 6'3" hunk of meat. Even from the distance, Randal could see the striations in his arms and the rippled chest that hung under his t-shirt. His handsome, chiseled face and all-American looks made it obvious that he was a model.

Eric ran a hand through his dark brown hair and nodded to Tony. "Alright Tony. I'll be back in about an hour." Randal was stunned. His girlfriend, the woman he moved across the country with, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with was about to...well, he didn't know what the photographer would have them do. But they were going to do it together. Randal fought back the urge to vomit.

His urge was interrupted by Melinda's voice. "Oh my! You look gorgeous!" Alison sheepishly smiled as she came into the open. Her hair was being held up with a clip which only highlighted her beautiful face. She was wearing a flared skirt and her top was a sweatshirt with some greek letters on it. Randal thought she looked like a sorority dream girl, like he used to see in his father's "The Girls of..." Playboy collections. Randal's cock began to respond. In light of what he was afraid was going to happen, he felt a tinge of guilt, but he couldn't help his cock's response.

Tony called out rudely, "Alright! You look beautiful. Blah, blah, blah. Now I need you to grab the backpack and the book and get on the set." Alison dutifully moved.

After testing the light against Alison's skin, Tony was ready. He tersely began, "Okay Alison. You are a sorority girl that has come back to her dorm room after a long day of classes. You are tired and want to take a nap. I need some shots of you putting your stuff away and stretching. Play the part. Do what's natural."

Alison walked through the set's door and used a smile and look that Randal recognized as rehearsed and fake. She pulled it off though. She twisted and turned, stretched her arms and moved around the room as if preparing for a nap on a small twin-sized dorm bed. "Okay Alison, I have enough of you prancing around. Put the book bag down in the chair. I need you to put one of your feet up on this stool and take off your shoes. Unlace them slowly so I can get the shots."

Tony clicked away as he was talking. Randal was a little shocked and it seemed Alison was too. She began unlacing the flats that she was wearing and Tony knelt low and started taking shots upward. Randal was sure he was getting shots of her legs all the way up to Alison's pussy, barely covered by the lacy cream-colored thong she wore under her skirt. Still, Alison continued. She switched feet and repeated her motions.

Tony gave more guidance. He was beginning to soften his tone. "Okay, this time, I want you to lean forward with both hands and grasp the bottom of your calves." The effect was the short skirt rose up and exposed half of Alison's ass to the camera which was directly behind her. "Okay, I need you to turn and look down at the skirt's zipper as you pull it down. Randal's sinking feeling was getting deeper. Alison did exactly as she was told.

Alison turned toward Tony and his camera. "Well, that looks silly. Slowly pull the sweater over your head." Alison hesitated for a split second. She then crossed her arms and slowly brought the sweater over her head, extending her arms high. At the end of the motion, the clip in Alison's hair came out.