"Gotta keep the dust from getting under the lens…" he defended.

She turned to face him, setting the pitchfork back in its place. "I'm sorry… I didn't think…"

"That's okay, kid…" he laughed nervously. "Now just lie down… fan out your hair… and look to the side… not at the camera. You do want the money, don't you?" he subliminally goaded. "Why you could be knocking down two hundred a day…"

Mimi decided not to argue and got down on her haunches to spread out on the hay, prickly and sweet smelling. She squirmed uncomfortably as he fumbled with the camera.

"No, now spread out," he said.

Mimi followed his instructions, and sprawled out on the hay, ignoring the dusty smell that often made her wheeze and her nose water, and ignoring the hellish prick of the dried hay. He suggested she turn slightly on one side, and she obediently shifted her weight so she faced the camera, her nerve-ends tingling as the camera lens aimed straight at her unclothed body.

"Put one leg over the other… I want to see some of that inner thigh in the shot."

Flushed in the cheeks, Mimi obeyed, readjusting her long smooth legs, unaware that tiny strands of her soft pubic hair were obscenely visible. Mimi, the country girl, started spreading her legs out on the hay, every once in a while clamping them shut again with the remembrance of what she was doing!

"… That's it, loosen up," encouraged the photographer. "Just imagine you're lying under an apple tree in the sunlight, and nobody's around… just you… relax, close your eyes for a second and take a deep breath… just you and the apple tree…"

Mimi followed his instructions, feeling an instant sense of relaxation take over. Her limbs loosened, her seeming to grow almost as they stretched out the hay, and with it her inhibitions loosened too.