Diva Dismayed 26: Chapter 26 – Expectations

This eventful session at the studio came at the close of a harassing day which to my way of thinking had already put me through enough trials. That afternoon Alice and I had had another of those disturbing heart to heart conversations that seemed to accompany befriending her. All through the walk home from college the girl’s face bore a worried expression. When we reached the apartment block and she asked me to step into her room, I knew something serious must be bothering her.

Her opening statement confirmed my surmise. She didn’t pull any punches. “I think I’m pregnant!”

I was so surprised I had difficulty speaking. I wasn’t even aware that she had a boyfriend.

“When…? Who?” I gasped. “What makes you think so?”

“I’m really late this month.”

This didn’t quite figure to my mind. Our continual meeting and Alice’s confiding nature meant that hardly any of the most intimate details of her life were withheld from my knowledge, whether I liked it or not, and by my reckoning, Alice wasn’t due to start her period until the following week.

“How do you work that out?” I probed, gently. I started to hope that she might be mistaken.

“Well, when we first met up, my period I was a week ahead of yours.”

“That’s right.” I assented.

“And then the next month, I was still ahead.”

She was correct, two weeks ahead.

“But this month you have already finished yours.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. The older girl’s math was obviously even worse than mine and the difference in the length of our ‘months’ had confused her. The five-week ‘cycle’ determined for me by my mother could baffle anyone. The tricky problem I had now was to explain her error intelligibly. Aggravating my difficulty was that arithmetic had never been my strong suit so my own grasp on the exact timings was tenuous at best. In desperation I adopted another approach.

“But that may not mean you are pregnant. Tell me… if you were… who might be the father?”

She started to cry. In between sobs, I caught the word “Wayne.”

“Wayne?” Which Wayne? One of the guys on our course was called Wayne but he and Alice had never appeared to be friendly, as far as I was aware.

Alice broke down completely at this point. Abandoning all hope of straightening out fact from supposition I put my arms around her waist to comfort her and hold her until she had recovered enough to speak again. The embrace lasted longer than I expected and to my consternation it started to give rise to some powerful sensations in me which I ought to have anticipated. That unwanted tingling again! However, the girl was clearly deriving some much-needed solace as she clung ever more tightly to me. It would have seemed unsympathetic to break away.

She nestled her head against my neck, and I found that my hand unaccountably strayed downward onto her butt in response. At that she squeezed up even closer to me. I quickly repositioned my erring paw to a safer area, but the pressure of her hips against my body didn’t diminish. It felt nice but that just wasn’t right. Aargh!

After what seemed an age, Alice lifted her head. With the excuse of finding tissues for her to mend her tear-stained face I was able to detach myself. I could only hope that she hadn’t noticed anything. When she’d recovered and we had seated ourselves on the edge of her bed, I tried again to get to the bottom of the matter, so to speak!

“Do you feel like telling me” I held her hands gently “what happened with Wayne? You and he had a date, yes?”

She nodded. “We went to the movies. It wasn’t really a date but there was a film I wanted to see so although I didn’t really want to go out with him, I said yes. That was the only time we were together, and I didn’t want anyone to know so I never said a word about it to anyone.”
She started to sniff again.

“But what happened at the movies?”

“Well, he started kissing me, and I thought I’d better let him as he’d paid for the seats, and he’d bought some candy too. But then things went a bit far.”

“This was in the movie theatre, right? How far?”

“He was running his hand up my leg and it felt really nice so I didn’t mind, but then he put it right inside my panties. I told him ‘no’ directly and he stopped.” Alice started crying again.

“And what else? After that, did anything else happen?”

She shook her head miserably. Overlooking how ludicrous it was for my limited understanding to be employed on this subject I tried to straighten things out.

“Okay. Now listen. You can’t get pregnant without a lot more er… intimacy than you experienced that time. Believe me. It just isn’t possible. Of course, if you are still worried you should see a doctor, but by my reckoning your period will start in a few days. Trust me!”

There was a silence during which I could almost see her brain in motion. Eventually my words seemed to have a positive effect on the girl, and she gave me a weak smile. I made her lie down on the bed with a blanket over her while I made us both a cup of chocolate.

“Thanks Jennifer. You’re my true friend.”

Alice sat up, blinked back some more tears and sipped her drink. “There’s just one more thing.”

“Yes?” I sounded cheerful but internally I was dreading what might be coming next. I was right to be worried.

“Do you think I’m… well… am I still a virgin?”

I gulped, nearly choking on the hot liquid.

What!?

“It’s important to me. I’d like to know.”

The girl had already pushed the blanket aside. I began to fear where this might be leading and called an immediate halt. “Sorry, I can’t help you. That’s something you would have to ask your doctor about.”

There was an appealing look in Alice’s eyes.

I panicked. “Must go. Try not to worry. I’m sure everything will be all right.”

On the way to the studio that evening I gave Rachel the gist of that awkward conversation with Alice. I was pleased to be commended on the way I’d soothed the girl’s fears.

“You amaze me sometimes, Jennifer dear” she exclaimed. “I think you showed both wisdom and tact by the way you comforted Alice. I really ought to give you more credit.”

“Thanks Rachel, but you should have seen how clingy she was with me. I’m not sure that I handled that so well.” I had reckoned that my friend would not want to hear this, but I need not have worried. Rachel didn’t seem at all concerned that I was so deeply in the other girl’s confidence or that we’d embraced.

“Try not to blame yourself because your body reacted that way. Given the complicated sensations you have to deal with on a day-to-day basis, that kind of thing is probably inevitable. But you need to be careful, all the same. That girl is clearly quite needy, and she could easily become overly dependent on you.”

Rachel’s reassuring words were what I needed to hear. Later that evening when I was faced with the emotions my encounter with Fiona had stirred up, I wanted to be reassured all over again. Now I had to deal with another equally uncomfortable situation. I was to be closeted with a man I didn’t trust and to array myself in what I regarded as some very provocative clothing.

At first glance the collection of lingerie on the rail he’d pointed out were in exotic materials and styles. Corsets, panties and basques in satin and lace were in evidence and images of brightly hued frills and flounces smacked me between the eyes. It was only when I was assured that most of these were part of the ‘burlesque’ range which Fifi had been modelling that I agreed to continuing with the session.

It was very welcome news that the garments which were to fall to my lot were much more demure, in keeping with what a teenage girl might wear. However, I have to admit that the sight of those other items triggered an element of curiosity that niggled away at the back of my mind. I retired behind the screen to change, telling myself that this wasn’t such a big deal. I ought to able to carry it off.

When I looked in the glass my self-belief was restored by what I saw. The set I was wearing included a full slip, over matching bra, panties and garters. They exuded luxury in every detail and looked and felt expensive. This was the sort of underwear that the average teen would seldom get to wear, designed only for the most special of occasions. I revelled in its sensual touch against my skin. I was confident that these photos were destined to appear in a different sector of publishing than the risqué stuff which the other girl had modelled earlier.

Walt began work in earnest and before long he announced that sufficient images had been captured. I was then required to step behind the screen and change again to show off a further item, a panty girdle in matching lace. This kind of control garment was designed to be worn with pantyhose, an innovation around that time. For the photo shoot I could only wear this and my bra. I emerged from the refuge of the screen feeling at my most vulnerable yet, in front of the camera and clad only in this flimsy pairing.

This part of the session seemed to go on for ever. Throughout the evening I had been expecting Pete to walk in on us and take over its direction, but she had clearly been seriously delayed. By the time it was over she still hadn’t put in an appearance. Walt expressed his own impatience by repeatedly wondering where she might have got to. He needed her to check that the objectives of the night’s work had been successfully met. The man clicked his tongue, checked his watch again and then proceeded to make a suggestion.

“While we’re waiting, do me a favour and try these for size.” With an insinuating smile he selected from the rail one of Fifi’s corset sets. To be fair it was a very pretty one, in ivory figured satin adorned with pink frills.

“If you don’t like, that’s okay, but just give them a try. You’ll look good, trust me. Only the highest quality, see? You don’t need to be too choosy about what you wear if you aim to make regular cash.”

Dubiously I pondered my options. From the outset I’d decided to avoid anything suggestive, and the creepy manner of the photographer’s request did little to reassure me. On the other hand, I was anxious for these sessions to continue as long as possible so I could earn enough to meet my purpose. Curiosity finally lent its weight as I reasoned that Pete must be here before long, so I ought to be safe enough.

“Okay, I’ll try them on, but I’m not committing myself to any photos just yet.” I gave the man what I hoped was a hard stare in an optimistic attempt to remain in control.

Taking the proffered articles from his hand, I went behind the screen again. The corset was steel-boned and there were tiny panties in matching material. I quickly donned the latter then struggled into the former, wrapping the constricting device around me and clipping the busk together. I tightened and tied the laces as well as I could. All that remained was to attach the suspender tabs to some sheer hose. To complete the ensemble, I slipped my feet into a pair of shiny high-heeled pumps. They were a little large but that would be okay.

I rejoined my companion with some trepidation to be met with only qualified approval. “Perfect” he exclaimed, then “almost perfect. Turn around.”

I obeyed, wondering what was about to happen next, and immediately felt the laces of my garment being grasped and then being hauled taut. For several minutes my companion worked to achieve the most constricting result imaginable. By the time he had finished I was left in no doubt that he was a lot stronger than I might have given him credit for. I could hardly draw breath and now felt totally powerless. That wasn’t at all what I’d intended, but I was surprised to find that the helplessness of my situation was not as unwelcome as it should have been. My constrained chest heaved as if would burst out and a thrill ran through me. These were warning signs flashing if I chose to heed them.

Of course, I didn’t. Instead I turned to face the guy. “Well, how do I look?” I primped. The situation felt deliciously flirtatious. That was never a good thing!

“Swell!” came his pronounced conclusion. “Over here!” He led the way across to another corner of the room and took the wraps off a number of props. When he had unveiled them, arrayed before me were a couch with a zebra striped cover, a chair and potted plant. He pointed to the zebra couch and began altering the position of a number of lights. “Now let’s get started. Kneel on that.”

I did so.

“That’s terrific, honey. As neat as Betty Brosmer.”

His reference to the girl with ‘the impossible waist’ was not lost on me. I drew myself up and thrust out my bosom to copy the pose suggested by it.

What was I doing?

As a concession I’d told Walt he could take some instant snapshots. While he performed this operation I was all too aware how closely he stationed himself to me. I could literally feel his breath on my bare shoulders, smelling of stale tobacco. Every moment I expected him to touch me and while my skin crawled at the very thought, at least half of me actually desired that contact. Here was a second ‘pregnant’ situation; this time pregnant with anticipation!

Where, oh where was Pete?