Stacey's Story

STACEY’S STORY

Most models arrived at the home in the Lakes community of Las Vegas for their private test session but several including Stacey requested to be picked up and driven to the shoot and then driven back. She was unique because she didn’t provide an address but wanted to rendezvous in front of a Mini Mart at the corner of Arville and W. Flamingo. She didn’t show and we thought maybe it is just as well as we were not very experienced in meeting models on the fly who were implicitly unable or unwilling to provide a local address even if it was a weekly or monthly suite rental.

She did call back and pleaded for a second chance so she was rescheduled and this time she was waiting out in front of the Mini market this cool December afternoon.

She was tall and fair skinned with jet black hair and black eyes. She stated that she was here from the Pacific Northwest and desperately wanted a plane ticket to fly her daughter back to Alaska where Stacey inferred that her support system of family would be more dependable than the one offered by her {Stacey}.

We arrived back home and she required little of the initial interview and step by step process required of most models prior to posing in lingerie, bikinis or nude. She shed her clothes as if a nudist, exhibitionists or professional by habit.

She as many models carried their change outs in a book bag type of knapsack. It remains mystifying as if by slight of hand or a magic trick as to how so much clothing, accessories and shoes women can fit into one of these canvas totes.

Stacey conveyed sensuality not immediately typified in most sessions by most models.

We stared out back on the porch as the sun was setting. She borrowed a Navy Full length Pea Coat and put it on then flung open both arms like a bird set for flight. She then proceeded to strip nude and played with an orange bikini top and bottom first wearing the top and holding the bottom between her legs then fully wearing both then stripping nude again and walking the length of the patio and back again. Several Tiki torches were lit as backlighting and we were able to coax her back into some clothing changes before she again went nude and walked into the home and sat in a recliner next to the Christmas tree. She sat as if posed waiting for the break down and transfer of the video equipment from outside and the completion of other housekeeping tasks of extinguishing the torches and pulling cable to the next set.

Once there though she upon request and while fully nude except for heels and a Santa Hat pretended to hang an ornament near the top of the tree. The extension of her already long legs adjacent to the backdrop of a lit Christmas tree was breathtakingly sensuous as she appeared in the next few frames as one with nature even though the tree was artificial as were many of the attached ornaments. {stacey first session}

Portrait for the book in making

“Chapter 5 - Stacey’s Story”

From the Christmas scene the session was moved upstairs to a bathroom to include some mirror reflections then finally to a back bedroom where she posed on a love seat, in front of a full length closet door and mirror and also on a blanket on the floor clad in nothing more than a purple spaghetti strapped top.

The session ended though when she initiated a discussion regarding solicitation by dropping hints like “I know what you want”

She signed for her session fee of fifty dollars and was paid in cash. She packed her backpack and we left in the Ford Tempo. While driving down Durango drive she spotted a drive through and asked if I would stop. She ordered about sixty dollars worth of food and I paid partly because I felt sorry for her and partly as a Christmas gesture of goodwill.

When we arrived at the Mini Mart she signaled for me to continue driving South on Arville about half a block, she asked to be let out directly behind a block wall. She thinking we would probably never meet again grabbed the bags of food and while proceeding towards the wall from over her shoulder stated that she and her boyfriend were in the process of being evicted. She tossed the bags on top of the wall and then pulled herself up and over a hand reaching back over to claim the still warm Taco Bell delights.

I reflected for a moment about what had just transpired in the last three hours and how at sunset this stunningly beautiful woman had posed in the backyard amongst the trees, torches, rabbits and deepening sky and now other than some undeveloped 35mm film, 8mm video and other memories as proof that this later part of December 7, 1999 and Pearl Harbor Day was real and not imagined as the shortness of day evaporated completely into another mystery of the night.

I drove home happy to own a 1991 Black Tempo 5 speed with working heater and happier still to arrive to a home full of roommates, conversation and dinner. But I felt for Stacey and her seemingly lonely and desperate existence. I made a personal vow to locate her again for a second session and eavesdrop on her life to see what had transpired since we first met.

Stacey was able to maintain an email account and we conversed back and forth again sometime in 2002. She even called on the phone and offered her services including making adult videos for cash. She was living at someone else’s home apparently with the same boyfriend as before but apparently the living arrangements weren’t working out and she wanted to bail. She conveyed without saying so that the current dynamics were rather creepy.

We didn’t make any connection then and in earnest in the summer of 2003 through a series of emails were able to make an appointment to meet this time at a real property tax paying residence near the border of Las Vegas and North Las Vegas.

The street was paved down the middle with dirt easements on each side and the home was ranch style with an open garage. I was hesitant but made my way to the front door. A middle aged woman greeted me and invited me inside. Her husband a husky biker looking dude shook and encased my slender small hand almost entirely inside his palm. He was friendly enough and they were both very accommodating to me. The home was dark with wood paneling and brown tones and the shades were drawn either to protect them from the already intense June heat or possibly because sometimes people like to drink in the dark. It was a few moments before I could see as the transition from another intensely bright Las Vegas afternoon to cave like blackness was excruciatingly slow. Finally I realized that Stacey was asleep or passed out on the couch in the den a few feet from where we were conversing in the kitchen. They called her name but she wouldn’t move. I admitted out loud that maybe this wasn’t a good time and we could reschedule for another day which was code for I think I should begin to make my way back to the car and pretend that I really didn’t want to find her after all. By this time a little girl entered the kitchen and caught me off guard. I told the husband and his wife that I would wait outside for a few minutes and if Stacey was able to arise then we could chat otherwise our conversation and scheduling could wait for another day. They agreed and I went outside and scanned the neighborhood.

The gentleman to whose home I had just departed was apparently a truck driving man as well as a weekend motorcycle enthusiast. A Freightliner with trailer was parked directly in front of his home. I was parked directly behind his rig.

The neighborhood HOA was non existent or had been put out of its misery a long time ago. The homes were built on oversized lots with each house approximating less than three thousand square feet but resting on a half acre or more. Some home were visually appealing but most of the residences were lined with clutter, discarded fixtures and other broken remains.

After about ten minutes Stacey appeared alongside the truck. She was barefoot and wearing only a blue top and orange or rust colored jeans. I quickly set up the tripod and commenced filming her. I then coaxed her into posing for some digital shots. She could hardly keep her eyes open. She instinctually cut to a posing sequence and then she stripped naked right there on the street. She was sandwiched between the back of the trailer and my wife’s explorer but she was clearly visible from the street behind us. We wrapped in a couple of minutes and she headed back to the house and I drove home.

About a year later in July of 2004 an open call session was conducted at Palace Station. When setting up a hotel room for a session certain hygienic protocols are advisable. After greeting the bellman arriving with the suitcases of equipment, clothing, coolers and jewelry the first order is to disinfect all exposed surfaces with Clorox wipes. Attention to the telephone and remote are absolute necessities. Then the bedspreads are gingerly folded and laid on the floor in the corner. This protects the model from having any contact with dried spunk, blood, sweat, and microscopic skin devouring critters. I once heard that the Hotels usually clean the bedspreads about three times a year. So at full occupancy the ratio translates to about one hundred plus people wrestling, engaging in sex or relaxing on or under any given bedspread per cleaning. After set up it was time to greet the models. This day was fully scheduled and progressing nicely with initial sessions completed by Tiffany, Kristy and Colleen. The models usually don’t appear in rapid succession. Some times they call because they are lost or late. Usually I ask them to call from downstairs prior to giving them the room number. This provides another layer of security and insures that each model has actually arrived at the hotel prior to receiving access and also prevents stacking of models in these tiny converted studios.

Colleen arrived on time but there was a touch and go moment when while posing nude on her tummy on a white bear skin rug placed on top of one of the twin beds she suddenly blurted out: “I am naked in a room with a man I met less than half an hour ago, why am I here? She had been escorted to the room by a male friend but he had left for the casino. I stopped the session and invited her to go ahead and get dressed. She went to the bathroom and started asking me questions from behind the wall. I didn’t answer her but remained seated in one of the room chairs and waited for her to summon her friend. He arrived shortly thereafter.

She left without further incident and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had a bad vibe about her from the start but proceeded with her appointment because she had remained in constant contact for over a month of chatting about the process. She was in her forties with platinum blonde hair and average appearance. She was small busted but built like a well defined and muscular man. She acknowledged that she had previously competed in miss body building universe type of competitions. This conversation had transpired while viewing her in the nude. I observed how overdeveloped her legs, hips, arms and pectoral muscles appeared especially for a woman and wondered to myself whether she had endured the mutilations of a completed gender reassignment surgery or attained such a look through anabolic steroid use. She responded to my quizzical look by commenting in detail about her past. I thought to myself Oh! No! I hope she didn’t use steroids to attain and maintain such definition. These drugs can affect the mind and possibly cause brain cancer. { bodybuilder }

Each completed session is usually followed by extended periods of tedium and boredom. This day I watched from my fourteenth floor perch viewing the clogged afternoon highway traffic of I-15 below preferring my germ infested environment and cloistered rental to the spaciousness afforded this aged resort, awaiting the next ring-ring of the house phone alerting me to welcome the gentle voice of a new arrival.

Shortly thereafter there was a knock on the door and upon opening revealed Stacey yet again. She looked much better than the previous year but noticeably older than when we first met in 1999. Her makeup was good and her clothes were clean. She was dressed in a tie behind the head leopard print shirt and blue jeans. She didn’t have much in the way of wardrobe so I loaned her a Yankees Jersey, a Yes concert baseball hat and my favorite Black Leather Jacket. Unlike most models she was a master of posing and exuded a powerful self confidence. The session was completed with great results in less than thirty minutes. She finished dressing and stated that she was short of cash and could I help her out. I palmed her forty dollars and she left. {staceythirdsession}

Within a few minutes of her departure the phone rang and a male voice not recognizable to me launched a threatening tirade about how he was going to come up to the room with his friends and beat me up because I didn’t pay the girl. In the meantime the other photographer called on my cell phone I answered it and put the phone down while the escalation of the mysterious caller continued. I eventually realized that he was talking about Stacey. In a knee jerk reaction I made the mistake of telling him that she had been paid forty dollars for her time. He was rendered speechless and hung up the phone. I picked up the cell phone to talk with Kyle who said: “What the hell was that?”

I was somewhat rattled by the whole experience of being accosted telephonically by Stacey’s boyfriend or worse her pimp. I hoped he didn’t beat her up for not giving him the cash.

The subsequent conversation with Kyle was brief and shortly thereafter Tiffany arrived for her second session. She was a very petite brunette jewel currently residing in a trailer court off Las Vegas Blvd in North Las Vegas. We mutually built on the results of her previous test conducted barely a month prior for an outstanding portfolio addition to this project. { tiffanytwo. }

After Tiffany, Kristy appeared escorted by two huge male friends. After an explanation of the process they were quite comfortable leaving her in my company and they departed for the casino. Her appearance was pleasant but otherwise non eventful. She resembled a starry eyed doe and her abbreviated session was extended out of personal courtesy for her completing the application packet, survey and appointment. { kristyone. }

The day’s work ended with a session and model named Sherita. {Sheritafirstsession} She arrived with her female friend who provided moral support. They both enjoyed the quality of the session and wanted to continue with additional change outs and accessorizing. I was exhausted from the length of the day the adrenalin rush from both Colleen and Stacey’s shadow men but was gratified that this last model had planned for her session was excited about receiving a CD portfolio and wanted to maximize her quality of time in front of the camera. They departed excited with the prospects of receiving a quick turn around in cropping, pressing and release of her portfolio. I bumped her photo sequence to the front of the other seven to be developed that day and mailed it within a week.

Shortly after they left so did I. The room as always was vacated after a few hours of intense interactions and the creation of some quality soon to be converted artistic renditions of photo ops. Upon check out at eleven at night management as usual was interested to learn if everything was okay since the room was paid for until late the next morning. I replied with my standard “duty calls” knowing I wanted only to return home unpack the equipment, wardrobe and coolers, shower and climb into bed maneuvering between sleeping kitty cats and my lovely wife.

The entry/exit doors of the hotel glided open revealing the valet box as the rush of a hot Las Vegas July evening also reminded me of how tough surviving in this desert town must be for transients and the homeless alike. I scanned the parking lot seeking a glimpse of anyone resembling a person capable of conveying the hostility of the anonymous Stacey man phone extortionists.

I continued my counter surveillance mainly through the rear view mirror departing the parking lot East on Sahara and one half block later South on the I-15 accelerating into the fast lane and making one final check before further gathering speed for the brief trek home reflecting on this days efforts and meditating on the events that transpired, the beautiful souls I would have never met but for this project and the absolutes that real nudity is more aligned to emotions than nakedness and glamour nude photography is more aligned to analysis than glamour or photography.