She needed money and she needed it NOW! Tuition, rent, utilities and food were all looming on a fast-approaching horizon, needing paid or purchased soon. Her belly had grown accustomed to the growls produced from eating one meal a day. If she didn’t get the tuition soon, the university would toss her out, and without her degree, where would she end up? Three part-time, minimum wage jobs weren’t enough. She needed more, and very soon.
Scanning the want ads again, as she did every morning, she saw a new one.
Muse and Model.
One day only, extremely long hours.
Absolute obedience and compliance required.
Compensation will be ample.
Only truly interested may apply.
OK…she thought…whatever that means. As long as it pays well, I’ll do it. She called the number at the bottom of the ad. A woman answered, claimed she was the secretary of Mr. M, took down all her information and told her to be at the address she gave at EXACTLY 7 am sharp on the day after tomorrow. The emphasis she put on the word “exactly” made her giggle just a little. She copied down all the information, and before she could even say thank you or goodbye, the secretary hung up. How RUDE!
She arrived a few minutes early, but waited until exactly 7 before she knocked. The front door was massive, as was the house that held it. It was entirely of old stone construction, but immaculately cared for. The door opened and she was greeted by an older man in a black suit who welcomed her in with much formality. “Follow me Miss, I will take you to the studio.” She followed him down a long dark corridor until they reached the last door. “Miss, please enter and wait upon the settee. The Master will be with you shortly.” He pushed the door open, almost bowing, and she entered the room.
The room was magnificent. It was large and bright with one whole wall of windows overlooking the city below. There were paintings everywhere, in all stages of completion and of every subject matter imaginable. Another wall was covered with cabinets and drawers. One of the doors sat slightly ajar and exposed shelf after shelf of paints. A fan spun lazily on the ceiling, and the room smelled of turpentine and…..something else. She couldn’t quite decide what it was. The only word she could think to describe the heavenly scent was…passion. She closed her eyes and inhaled it in. She eventually meandered her way over to the settee in front of the window and had a seat. Then, she waited.
Time ticked by slowly as she sat and waited. Fifteen minutes…Thirty minutes…Forty-five minutes…One Hour…THIS IS RIDICULOUS…One and a Half Hours…Two Hours. She decided he had exactly one more minute before she was going to get up and leave, but not before someone paid her for all this time she had wasted. At the exact moment she was beginning to lift her bottom from the place it had been planted, the door opened and in walked Mr. M.
She inhaled sharply when she saw him. He was very handsome. Light golden hair, perfectly trimmed mustache and beard, tightly toned physique and his eyes…dark, piercing, consuming, yet unreadable. He wore a white button up shirt with the sleeves cuffed up to mid-arm, and the top two buttons undone exposing the slightest hint of his chest. His dark jeans fit everywhere perfectly, and his sexy bare feet padded silently across the wood floor. She couldn’t stop staring.
Without speaking, he circled her, walking around and around the settee, seeming to be taking in every inch of her. She began to feel uncomfortable, as if he could see right through the t-shirt and jeans that she wore. She found herself crossing her legs and folding her arms, trying to hide the nakedness she was feeling. There were no questions from him, no discussion of what he wished of her, or any mention of rate of pay. He simply stopped, standing directly in front of her, held out his hand and gave a very stern, “Come.” She gently placed her hand in his, arose slowly and began following him across the room. He led her over to a beautiful antique privacy screen that stood in the far corner of the room. Releasing her hand, he gestured to the screen and again commanded, “Change.”
She nervously walked around to the back side of the screen and there, hanging on a mannequin, was a dress that seemed to be made of pure gold. She had never seen anything that beautiful. She hesitantly touched it with her hand. It looked as though it would be rough, but the fabric was almost as smooth as silk. She peaked around the screen and saw Mr. M busily preparing paper and pencils. She slipped out of her street clothes and slid the dress over her shoulders. The feeling of the fabric gliding down over her skin was almost erotic. The full length mirror that was mounted to the wall behind the screen startled her when she turned around and caught a glimpse of herself. It fit like it had been made just for her. She left her hair in the ponytail she had arrived in, and stepped from behind the screen and back into the big room.
To be continued…