Mr. Smith inspects the goods and gives Rachel a proposition

"Stand up," the grizzled man order, and Rachel found herself popping to her feet like a well trained spaniel. Realizing what she'd done made her grimace inside, but she kept her face pleasantly neutral, a little afraid of the man. He looked like he could be mean and was built like an old heavy-weight whose best days were far behind, but who still remembered how to fight.

"Take your clothes off," ordered the man she knew only as Mr. Smith. Rachel's hands impulsively raced to her hem before she stilled them.

"T-take off...? I, uh..."

"You want to be a model, right?" she nodded. "Models are naked most of the time. With lots of guys around. During make-up, during changing, even during training. Think of this as training."

Seeing Rachel still hesitating he added, "I saw the entire shoot through the computer," he told her, and her eyes widened. Had he seen her being fucked on set? The group of guys cumming all over her?

"So I already saw you naked when you took the swimsuit off."

Rachel smiled, relieved that he hadn't seen the embarrasing, but hot, scene that ensued after that. She was so relieved that without really thinking about it she lifted her dress up and over her head, only to freeze with it in her hair as she realized what she was doing.

"Yeah, stop right there. Hold that pose," the man nodded, and she tried to pretend it was intentional that she'd stopped with her chest jutted out and her hair tousled above her. "Good instincts," he praised, and in pride she found herself pushing her generously endowed chest out further.

Then Mr. Smith's men came in, Bert leading the way. They stopped, staring at Rachel with undisguised lust, and she found herself blushing, her nipples hardening under their gaze. Still, rather than preserve her modesty and pull down the dress or cover herself with her hands, or just assume a more modest pose she stayed as she was, feeling their eyes taking in every inch of her naked glory.

"Bald cunts are the best," one of them said.

"I like the big tits. They look fake but I bet they're not. I can see them jiggle as she shakes them for us," the other added.

Mr. Smith dismissed Bert with a wave of the hand, and after pausing for a moment Bert complied, merely putting a usb stick on the desk before leaving the office and closing the door behind him.

"Whaddya think, boys? Does she have the stuff to be a model?"

"Hell yeah! She's hot as shit!" the shorter of the two exclaimed, his eyes round as his body. Rachel felt herself beam with the praise.

"Nah," the other countered, still looking her up and down. "She'd be better on her back," the other grinned.

"Good call, boys, leaving the two as confused as Rachel.

"You see, this is California. There's no shortage of hot, young women who're **** to be models, singers, anything at all. They're willing to do anything. I figure we can make one of you a successful model. The question is who, and what's the other going to do to earn her place?"

"To...? What...? Do you mean...?" Rachel stared at the big man in shock. Was he saying...

"I'm saying one of you is going to fuck and suck your sister's way to the top of the modelling industry," Smith grinned. "And if you don't neither of you gets to be a model."