lol. Note, this is a manure story, so if that's not your thing, back down now!---
It was just after noon when Meghan arrived at the studio, and the searing heat of the early July sun was mercilessly bearing down on the southern California suburbs. It was a beautiful day that she would rather have spent on the beach, but if she wanted to break into the highly competitive world of modeling and high fashion, she knew it was wiser to take any opportunities to advance her career. Meghan had done several photo shoots and music videos in the past, each one a little different in subject but generally the same in practice; smile, wave and maybe dance if it was called for. They hadn’t paid much, but it was one more point on her portfolio.
This job, however, was different. She had received the call a week earlier to pose for a magazine and was guaranteed a payment of two thousand dollars. Meg couldn’t ignore something this big, or the recognition that would go with being in an issue of Gellar’s Whisper, the prestigious periodical on the cutting edge of modern fashion, and was more than happy to sacrifice one gorgeous day if it meant a chance at success. She had signed the contract and booked the date, eager to take such a big step in her career. She double-checked the address she was given, and then approached the front door of the photographer’s home studio. The door flung open just as she was about to ring the bell. Weird.
“Ah, you must be Meghan!” he said with a little too much enthusiasm. “I’m Nick, and I’ll be your photographer for today. Come in, come in!”
Meg cautiously entered the home, a little nervous, but no more than she usually was before a shoot.
“So what do you have planned?” she asked matter-of-factly, still looking about the house. She noticed that there were no cameras or lights set up, and was starting to worry that she had entered the home of a serial killer.
“Well, after looking through your portfolio, the higher-ups think you’ll be perfect to showcase next year’s swimwear. Best to get these done now so we can make sure we’ll have them when we go to print this winter and build some hype!” Nick had retrieved his camera and was checking each lens while explaining. He then handed Meghan the black and white, polka dotted and frilled bikini that she would wear for the first shoot.
“The bathroom is right down the hall on the left, when you’re ready, meet me in the backyard and we’ll start!” He swiftly headed through the large sliding doors that led to the yard, leaving Meg with a few more questions and the skimpy swimsuit. She shrugged and figured it was better not to dwell on the fantasies going through Nick’s mind. While it was creepy, it wasn’t anything she hadn’t dealt with before, and she always kept a bottle of mace on hand if anyone went overboard on a shoot.
After changing into her bikini, Meghan took some time to make sure she looked the part of a professional model. Her long, wavy blonde hair danced elegantly over her back, shoulders and chest, and the swimsuits top held tightly to her slightly small, but perky breasts. The bottoms came just beneath her bellybutton, the frilled edges curving smoothly to the shape of her toned legs, thighs and butt. Her sapphire eyes shone brilliantly. Overall, she was satisfied. Time to earn her two grand!
Upon entering the backyard, she saw Nick finalizing some of his diffusers, and angling his hands like a Hollywood director would if he were a stereotype setting up a scene. A white backdrop had been set up near the fence with a few auxiliary lights. The sun was angled perfectly for natural illumination and would work well for a swimwear shoot. A fairly large pool was set up near the center of the yard, securely covered with a tarp.
‘Must be his bachelor’s hot tub.’ Meg thought. She also noticed a sour odor meandering through the yard. It was unpleasant and strong at times, but not enough for her to pinpoint what it was, or where it was coming from.
‘Probably needs to hit the pool with chlorine,’ she thought again as she approached Nick.
“How do I look?” she asked, striking a slightly seductive pose, hoping that she wouldn’t send any signals she’d later regret.
“Perfect!” Nick replied. “Just stand over by the ‘X’ I marked out on the ground and we can get started!”
Meghan complied and began by striking some basic poses she had used in previous shoots to test the waters and see exactly what it was Nick wanted. After some trial and error, it was starting to move smoother. Meg posed in straightforward and sultry styles, showing off every angle of her bikini in ways you’d expect to find a young woman on the beach, and in ways that would be better suited only for fashion shows or exotic dance performances. For her, it was an average job. Just with a slightly creepy photographer and that strange smell that kept wafting around the yard from time to time.
After an hour, the sun was changing positions and the ideal lighting in the backyard was beginning to wane. There also had to be over one hundred photos taken, more than enough to satisfy the editors of the magazine. Nick called it a wrap and set his camera down before offering Meghan a drink. Standing for nearly an hour in the hot summer sun had worn on her and the glass of water was a godsend. As she took a seat on the patio, she noticed that the smell had grown much stronger over the past thirty minutes. It seemed to be growing as the heat of the day intensified and she could now tell it was coming from the pool. Nick approached her again, placing a new memory card into his camera.
“Are you all set for part two?” he began. “Or would it be better if we waited for another day?” Meg sighed. She hadn’t expected this and had hoped she could start getting ready to go home for the day. Figuring it would be easier; she stretched and gave a swift nod, hiding any fatigue.
“Great!” Nick said. “For this part, we want you to show off the design in a more traditional swimming setting.”
“Are we going to be heading to the beach?” Meg asked, getting a little nervous about riding around with a stranger twice her age. She thought about her bottle of mace inside the house. “Or is there are a pool or something we can use?”
“Don’t worry about a thing! I have it all taken care of,” he replied. “For this part, put your hair up or something. It’ll give you a more poolside look to show off the fashion.” Meg started to tie her hair in a ponytail when she had a sharp pain of dread in her chest. Nick was heading over to the tarp-covered pool in the middle of the yard. The same pool flooding her senses with that rancid, unknown stench.
Nick untied the tarps and started to pull them off just as Meghan approached him. She gagged as the awful, rotten smell overpowered her. The pool was filled to the brim with a disgusting, olive colored muck that looked as though it were bubbling just a little bit after fermenting under the coverings. She backed away in disgust, and fell on her ass, the smell crippling her movement.
“Wh… what the hell is that!?” she shouted while covering her nose and pulling herself to her feet. Nick was now moving a fairly large contraption out of a nearby shed and setting it up next to the putrid pool.
“This,” Nick began while placing one end of his apparatus into the muck, “is a dunk tank. We’ll be using it for the second part.”
Meghan’s heart was racing. Her delicate hands trembled as she realized what was happening, or rather, what was about to happen to her. There was no way any sane human being would dunk her, or anyone, into… that!
“No,” she started again. “What is that, in the pool?”
“That, young lady, is fresh cow manure!” Nick stated, almost as if he were proud. Meg felt as if she were about to faint.
“Yup, just came in this morning from the dairy farm a few miles down the road,” Nick continued. “Been keeping it warm under these tarps all afternoon so it wouldn’t harden up.”
“What the hell does this have to do with modeling a swimsuit!?” Meghan asked angrily. She was just about ready to mace this guy for the audacity of her situation.
“It has everything to do with it!” Nick replied shortly. “What you’re modeling is the Madame Bovine design. When this style came across the desks of those in charge at Gellar’s Whisper, they knew immediately that this would garner a lot of attention. Cow themed bikini, cow themed showcase. Think of it; ‘for a day at the beach, or a day at the farm, Madame Bovine is there for you!’ I would think you would have at least looked at the tag that was on the suit and put it together.”
Meg felt nauseous. What twisted mind would link a cow themed swimsuit to manure? Why couldn’t they just Photoshop her image into a stock picture of some cows, or a barn? This was something out of a Saw movie!
“No. I’m not doing this,” she stated firmly. Just looking at the pool was enough to make her sick. Actually being in it!? There was no way!
“That’s okay, Meghan,” Nick said while walking around the edge of the tank. “Go ahead and leave. You can forget about your money, and you’ll be hearing from our attorneys. You signed a contract with us, remember? If you pull out now, after we’ve already taken so many images, you breach your end of the deal. And if you think being short two thousand dollars is bad, just wait until you see the bill our lawyers will give you for backing down!”
Nick had become a different man now. The eccentric atmosphere about him had been replaced with a very cruel and unforgiving one. Meg now started to understand why the job had offered so much. Even for a well-known magazine, a couple thousand dollars was an awful lot, especially for such a young, slightly inexperienced model.
“You agreed to do what we asked of you. And we’re asking you to get on that seat up there and look pretty. Understand? Or would you rather just lose out on your money, career and credibility? Maybe we could even send you to jail for a year or so if you can’t pay us back for failing to meet your end of the bargain?” Nick was now staring down Meghan’s face, her small frame hidden beneath his burly shadow. She realized she was already out of options. She took a deep breath and headed towards the ladder.
“Good girl,” Nick said, a sadistic tone in his voice. As she neared the pool, she could feel her nose wrinkling involuntarily. Her legs shook as she slowly grabbed hold of the steps. As she climbed, her heart pounded in a slow, heavy rhythm. Each foot slowly inched up another rung and she could hear herself counting each one as she neared the top. Never before had four steps felt so long and so high!
As she sat down and moved her way towards the seat hovering precariously over the pool of manure, Meghan was able to hear another sound above the fearful voices in her head telling her to run. It was a low, droning hum, like a distant engine. It was then that she saw the flies – thousands of insects swarming about that wretched pit, feasting upon it and crawling through the surface. The smell was worse here than on the ground. It surrounded Meg, suffocating her and pushing her closer and closer to the faint she had felt earlier.
Nick was setting up his camera on a tripod, rigging a remote, and checking the levels of light before bringing out and switching on two lamps to illuminate the tank. He didn’t seem the least bit phased by the stink, or by the idea of forcing her into this part. Meghan was breathing heavily, looking down into the tons of frothing cow manure, then over to Nick, and then back to her fate. Her heart was throbbing faster now, and with such force it hurt her chest.
“Why don’t you put your ponytail over your left shoulder? A more casual look, don’t you think?” Nick said after fiddling with his camera and looking at his scene. Megan did so, hands still shaking.
“Great! Now give me a nice, big smile!” How Meg was supposed to smile while dangling over such a horrible concoction was beyond her. She did her best. It must have been good though; she could hear Nick chuckling and his camera snapping pictures.
“Now, I want you to wave like you’re the centerpiece of a parade float,” he continued, while walking around the pool, remote in hand. “Just a little wave.” She did so, still smiling, all the while her chest screaming in an anxiety induced pain.
Several minutes passed with more poses and more shots. Meghan was wondering what was going to happen to her. Was this it? Was she just going to float above a stinking cesspool of filth and smile? Part of her slowly began to relax. This guy just wanted to get the greatest reactions, right? That’s why he went all out on this set. There’s no way any magazine, or photographer, would dunk a nineteen-year-old girl into that kind of sludge without telling her beforehand!
Meghan relaxed more, waving and smiling brightly for the camera as those comforting thoughts filled her head. She even blew a kiss towards Nick and laughed! Maybe this wasn’t going to be so awful after all!
“Now, I want you to shout ‘I want this manure all over me!’ as loud as you can!” Nick said gleefully. Meg’s heart stopped. What!?
“I want this manure all over me,” she said, barely audible. All of those positive thoughts rushing from her mind like water from a broken dam.
“I can’t hear you!” Nick shouted, growing impatient.
“I want this manure all over me,” she said louder.
“Really sell it, ‘I want this horrible muck all over me!’ come on!” He was very angry now.
“I want this manure all over me!” Meghan shouted as loud as she could. Nick then struck the lever that was rigged to the seat.
“Jesus!” Meg shrieked as she felt the seat give out beneath her and she began to fall in a belly flop. Everything moved in slow motion. She could feel her head and upper body moving forward, the manure coming closer, and closer and closer with every passing nanosecond. The smell flooded her nose, and for a brief second, she could have sworn she saw the wings of a passing fly moving as leisurely and delicately as a painter’s hand, touching up a find detail on a masterpiece.
She felt her face hit the manure first – a quick, wet slap before an overwhelming flood of muck oozed across her cheeks, caressing her neck, ears, chin and forehead. She could feel it tugging on her hair as it pulled her under, gallons of manure creeping over her shoulders, between her breasts, over her back and belly, sucking and pulling on her legs and squeezing itself over and between her butt cheeks, then each and every one of her toes. She felt herself sinking deeper into the muck, panic setting in, as she feared she would never find her way out. Finally, she felt the bottom of the pool under her knees and hands, and after a few moments of thrashing under the cow waste, she was able to push herself to the surface.
Meghan gasped for breath, the stench rushing into her lungs, forcing a gag. She shrieked as she got her bearings and stood belly deep in the pit. She was absolutely plastered in manure. It slowly dripped off of her arms as she held them out of the pool and flicked her hands in a futile attempt to remove the slurry. She could hear it plopping back into the tank as it did so and struggled to clear the manure from her eyes. Even more ran down her breasts and over her back as she tried to resist the suction of the thick, wet manure as it pulled on her body. Her once soft, poufy ponytail was now stuck to her shoulder, soaked completely with olive-colored grime and lumps of cow shit. Even more mounds decorated the top of her once blonde head; one fairly large chunk was slowly moving down across her forehead and streaking her face just as soon as she had wiped most of it off. It landed atop her breasts in a wet thud.
All of Meg’s senses were being assaulted at once. Her entire body felt heavy under the immense amount of manure, and every step she took forced more of it around and up her butt and through her toes. It was very warm, and thick enough to hinder even the slightest of movements. It felt extremely slimy and lumpy, almost like mud but a little finer in quality and more horrible in reality. The only sounds she could hear was the intensive buzzing of flies and the plopping of manure as it fell off of her. She could see Nick speaking but couldn’t hear anything; she was so horrified that she couldn’t make out his words. As she looked about, wiping more dripping dung from her eyes, she noticed that in addition to the manure, she also had quite a few of the flies on her as well. Many were circling her head and others crawled over her face or in her disgusting, filthy hair. She desperately tried to shoo them away, only to smear her head with even more mounds of muck as she swatted. The smell was all over Meghan; an irresistible odor of everything horrible she could ever have imagined. It overpowered her nose, and was so severe that she could even taste it! It didn’t help that quite a bit had also gotten into her mouth when she took that first breath after breaching the surface.
“Beautiful, perfect!” Nick shouted, his thumb depressed on the camera’s remote trigger, taking a long series of images of the poor girl in the pit. Meg went for the ladder, hoping she could escape.
“No, no, no! Not yet!” Nick replied. “I want you to swim around for a while. It is, after all, a swimsuit!”
Meghan wanted to scream again. She could feel tears welling in her eyes, but refused to show this bastard, or anyone at his magazine, weakness. She was in a living hell of stink and shit, and knew that she had to go through it to get out. Slowly, she sank herself to her shoulders and began to tread through the manure in a frog paddle.
“There we go!” Nick said, taking more pictures as the young woman swam towards him. It was laborious to do so. The sludge was so thick that swimming required every bit of strength in Meg’s arms and legs, and with every stroke, her face was pushing through the rotten surface of the pit, collecting more mounds on her head. With every inch she swam, she sank a little more until she was yet again buried in manure by the time she reached the edge. She pulled herself up and took another deep breath. The stench wasn’t as bad this time, but she could still feel large globs of slurry dripping through her ponytail and across her neck and chest as she pulled herself out, making a disgusting plop against the rest of the muck.
“Just a little more now, almost have enough!” Nick said when she cleared her face for the second time. Meghan swam several laps around the pool. The sludge was pulling on her bottoms and had even pulled them down to her knees at some points while she treaded manure. Pulling them back up forced a stream of slurry back up her butt like a wedgie. Nick made her do handstands, taking several pictures of her filthy, dripping legs and feet as they stood out of the tank. There were also times where she had to go under and jump out like a synchronized swimmer, muck pouring off every inch of her as she did so; her sopping hair flailing about and smacking her back, face or chest with the manure it had soaked up. Flies circling her at every turn.
After another hour, Nick finally decided to call it a day and allowed Meghan to get out of the tank. Thank God! She nearly slipped off the ladder and fell back in as she clambered out. Nick had the garden hose ready for her and slowly sprayed her down, the filth soaking into the ground around her with more mounds plopping off. At least his lawn enjoyed it! She absolutely reeked, and went through nearly a whole bottle of body wash before she was comfortable enough to put on her clothes.
“Gellar’s Whisper will send out the money by tomorrow,” Nick said as Meghan exited the bathroom, dressed once more in her street clothes and her damp hair let down around her shoulders.
“You should get it soon,” he started again. “I’ll send you copies of the pictures for your portfolio too, once they’re all edited.”
“Thanks,” she said nonchalantly. Just what she wanted; everyone to know that she had been dipped in shit for a magazine shoot. Not that it mattered anyway, once that issue hit the shelves later in the year… She didn’t even want to think about what it might do to her social standing!
While driving home, Meg noticed that she still smelled absolutely terrible and that quite a few flies had followed her into the car. This was not going to be fun to explain to her parents, friends or anyone she happened to get a few yards near. She sighed, and let the tears that had built up earlier out. She had never experienced anything so disgusting or humiliating in her entire life. And it was going to be made public.
Once home, she took another shower and prayed that she’d smell better. She did, after five days, and even then, only a little. It was then that she noticed an envelope in the mail addressed to her. Finally, her check had come in! After spending the last several days in hiding or making excuses about the god-awful stink, she finally had something to make the endurance worthwhile. She smiled, opened it up and read the thank you letter from Gellar’s Whisper. Then she noticed her payment; four five hundred dollar bills in Monopoly money. Fuck!
