One who sells her shadow

That is, until just as the afternoon was beginning to dark and stormy again, Monica's battered old PC froze up again. Mark had just been about to send out a couple of important emails to clients and was unconvinced the bloody machine would wake up from the blue screen of death this time. So, instead he dragged out his own machine, planning to log in to the shop's accounts on that. Of course, at that very moment the bell chimed, announcing the arrival of this evening's client.

Monica appeared from her mysterious backroom, which she'd been preparing all afternoon. Rushing forward to hug and greet the small, waif-like figure who had just arrived. Mark caught a glimpse of candy-pink dyed pigtails and a thousand other colorful assaults as the customer took off her coat. As always however, this arrival seemed to signal the end of his welcome here… The would-be intern promptly found himself sent to procure one last round of coffee before he could 'call it a day'. He stomped round the corner under a gloomy sky, kicking himself for not even having the courage to ask why he wasn't allowed to be more involved. Bubbles of determination and insecurity fought inside of him as he carried the cardboard tray back. He had so much respect for Monica… he didn't want to seem ungrateful… He just wanted a chance to prove he could handle whatever she did back there…

Returning to the shop he was surprised to see the pair of the still squashed together behind the tiny desk, chatting excitedly. Mark could finally get a better look at this new client, perched as she was half across Monica's lap. The girl looked not much older than him… But was truly an explosion of neon colours. Her hair was half-pink, half-lime green. Her clothes were an eclectic mix of rainbows and specifically-torn holes, revealing flashes of multiple tattoos on oh-so-pale skin. She looked like an honest-to-god anime character, dragged out of the depths of Japanese internet fantasy and dumped in the gray confines of this dull reality. It was all a bit… much. But he couldn't help admit it drew a little… something from the dark heart of his nerdity.

So embroiled were the two women in their conspiratorial, giggling whispers that neither took any note of Mark’s return until he had drawn right up level with them. Nor had he been able to steal his eyes away from the clients variously presented assets, until he realised that it was in fact his laptop that the two of them were pawing over. With a sudden jerk of horror he glimpsed a face he recognised upon the screen… a face caught in one of her many moments of pure, cum-splattered ecstasy…

The coffee nearly went everywhere. It was only by self-preserving instinct alone that Mark caught one… While a Monica with a curious look in her eye cooly leaned out an arm to rescue another. The older woman raised an eyebrow at him with a glint that could have meant anything… yet made no comment or judgement yet. However, it was their paying guest who turned to him with clearly impressed excitement pouring out of every pore:

“It’s… Mark, right? Your Monny’s new intern?! Did you really take all these?!”

The Mark in question almost caught himself denying that on accusation alone. As if it was the cops asking, or the FBI, rather than a multi-coloured barbie doll. He managed to turn a shake of the head into a nervous nod at the last second though… and she seemed too far ahead in her own thoughts to notice. Every other word she said seemed to leap out in overexuberance.

“They’re AWESOME! Just so, fucking. Sexy! The girl looks like she’s having the time of her life! I’m almost half in love with her myself, already! You’ll have to introduce me sometime… we could link each other’s sites and stuff! I was thinking of doing something a little more tame this time… you know, just a lower price set… But this has got me FIRED UP… You’ve gotta shoot me like this! All gunked up and loving it! My guys will splash out a fortune to get hold of ‘em!”

Mark could offer nothing but confusion to this as the walking rainbow continued to boil over with enthusiasm. Monica found a brief moment between breaths to calmly explain:

“Lacey’s a cam girl… I take it you know about those kinda entrepreneurial young ladies… She sometimes hires me to do a specific set of photos for her: stuff she can’t get the angle or quality on at home. To then sell to her fans.”

The ‘entrepreneur’ herself still couldn’t resist jumping back in here.

“It’s a fun little way to pay the bills… if you’re model there’s not doing it already, she really should- those pictures are just pure talent. I’m half creaming over them myself! It’s a waste to just throw them out for free… But what did you make all that fake cum out of?! It looks so real! Have you got what you need to make some more for tonight?”

Suddenly Mark felt cornered again… Of course, if she thought the website was all some sort of professional portfolio of his, she would assume it was all faked! No-one really had a best friend they could just cum all over whenever they liked after all…

Again, Monica came to his rescue… flashing him another subtly knowing smile as she did.

“Trade secrets, lovey. But it’s just about getting the right mix of corn-syrup and PVA glue really. I can mix up a pretty convincing batch with what I’ve got in the back… you’re not the first young lady to ask me to get them a little messy. Would you be happy for Mark to sit in on the shoot then? He normally goes home about now, but I wouldn’t mind the help if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

Lacey gave off a distinct impression that she didn’t really understand what ‘uncomfortable’ might mean for a girl about to get undressed in front of several strangers and a lens. Instead she reached out to grab Mark’s arms in begging coercion.

“Oh no! You have to stay! I want to look just like that girl on your website! Please say you’ll stay and help Marky-poo, I’ll pay extra for your time! Like I said, I think if this goes right I’ll sell a whole ton of whatever we take!”

Both women, intimidating in their own right, pinned the besieged teen in their sights. Mark scratched the back of his head. Somehow everything he’d wanted just seemed to have happened. He wasn’t quite sure he’d caught up internally to that. But, really… there was only one answer he could give...