Saturday , January 29 2022

Carrie romances her sister

My sister and I model together. You may even have seen us on the internet now and then. Not that we’ve got a website or anything, but you know how these pictures find themselves on the web, right? Well, that’s how the trouble started. With somebody seeing the pictures on the internet. The trouble, and, I suppose, the opportunity to sort things out. But it was never as simple and easy as it sounds writing it down on paper. Anyway, I’ll go back to the beginning because back then, everything seemed so much simpler, and a whole world of innocent.

My younger sister, Helena, had always been the pretty one in our family. Mom had always said so to tease me (knowing that I had a place on the cheerleading squad, and no end of young teenage suitors), but she was right. Helena had the kind of clean, simple beauty that didn’t need much make-up to make her look stunning. Like me she had long blonde hair that behaved itself without the use of too much hairspray; a natural color-mix of ash- and strawberry-blonde. The two of us were about the same height; a little over average, and we both looked after ourselves (in our own ways). But Helena had a jaw and cheekbones that framed the beauty of her face perfectly. Some women look stunning when they have time to get up, scrub and put on some make-up. Helena was able to look stunning as soon as she opened her eyes. It made her very popular at college; in a quiet way even more popular than my position as a cheerleader, but Helena never showed too much interest in the pursuit of others. She concentrated on her studies, and on her beauty.

So when, at the age of eighteen, she was stopped in a shopping mall by a guy with dark glasses and a leather trench coat saying she was the most perfect specimen for his ‘artistic creation’, flattering her with his off-hand compliments and promises of stardom, it didn’t come as a shock to her. Mom was sceptical, and rightly so, even though at the first shoot, at which mom chaperoned my sister, the guy seemed totally professional with a full photographic studio set, and magazine covers bearing his ‘creations’. That first shoot was all about lighting, apparently, and Helena was given long, flowing dresses to wear (in which she looked gorgeous in a girl-dressed-as-a-grown-up way. So on the second shoot, Helena was allowed to go on her own and this time, the guy showed his real colours. Helena came back saying that his ‘artistic creations’ were fairly explicit, involving a lot of fruit that Helena had to hold against her naked skin because the lighting (apparently) demanded it. Mom called the police and they raided the guy’s house, finding several more explicit images that Helena hadn’t mentioned. And in these ones, the fruit wasn’t just held against her skin. I must admit that I got the green-eyed monster a little, even though the guy had tricked my sister and exploited her. There was just a little part of me that craved that kind of attention too.

The whole experience had had an effect on Helena. Just not the one mom or I expected. Rather than become a little withdrawn and inhibited, Lena seemed to have discovered her teenage wings. She spent a lot more time on her cell phone, and a lot more evenings having to explain to mom why she was so late back from a friends’ house. Her wardrobe changed too. Rather than the older, slightly more frumpy styles she used to wear, Helena now wore tighter-fitting, more fashionable clothes. Personally, I found this change refreshing, seeing my sister become a little more like me (and someone whose new clothes I could borrow too!).

It was on an evening a couple of months later, playing a computer game in my room, that Helena and I talked about her experiences at the photoshoot.

“Actually, it was pretty cool” she said, leaning her body to one side as her virtual car skidded round a corner on the screen in front of us. Helena was dressed casually, in jogging pants and a vest top, her long blonde hair left to fall around her shoulders. My hair was identical to hers, even if it covered shoulders a little more toned, and less finely boned than hers.

“What was cool?” I said, leaning my body in the same direction as I gunned my car to chase hers down.

“The photoshoot” she said. “It was pretty cool”

“the first one?” I answered, paying most of my attention to the screen in front of me. I was determined not to lose to my sister. Again.

“Well, yeah. That too.” she said. There was a pause as the fender of my virtual car nudged the bumper of hers. I’d hoped to push her car off the road, but had only succeeded in giving it a further nudge of acceleration.

“Dammit! What do you mean ‘that too’?” I said, flicking buttons with my fingers to change gears and speed up.

“Well” Helena said, effortlessly splitting her attention between talking to me and swerving round old cars to reach the final, “I liked getting dressed up and all, but it was kind of difficult to let go with mom sitting ten feet away.”

“Let go?” I said, watching with dismay as another computer-controlled car shot past my one.

Helena’s car sped across the finish line and a colourful ‘Winner!’ slogan lit up the screen. She dropped the game pad onto her lap and turned to look at me.

“Yeah, let go. Like, get into the mood of the photoshoot. Like an actress in a film. Anyway, it was cool the way I could do that in the second shoot.”

“Are you kidding me?” I said. “That guy made you take of all your clothes and do that- do that fruit thing!”

Helena squirmed a little on my bed, looking uncomfortable. “Well, kinda” she said, cagily. I put down my control pad, not bothering to see if my virtual car had limped over the line in last place.

“Helena…” I said, using the ‘mom’ voice.

Helena suddenly brightened up, grabbed one of my hands in both of hers and pulled it onto her lap.

“Cassie, it felt so free and uninhibiting being pictured like that.” There was a pause as I watched her look away for a moment and squeeze my hand. She looked back at me; a wicked little glint in her eye.

“Cass, it wasn’t his idea to take my clothes off” she said, blurting out the admission. “It was mine.”

“Yours?”

“uh-huh. It just felt, I don’t know, it felt natural.”

“And what about the fruit? Was that your idea too?”

“No. But I didn’t mind at the time.”

“You didn’t mi-” I began, then broke off, incredulous. “Helena, he made you put that fruit where it shouldn’t belong. He took pictures of you doing-”

“I know, I know” said Helena, holding up a hand to stop me. “And it was wrong.” Then she brightened again and the devil glint was back in her eye again.

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