Again I did not understand the nuances of his speech. I looked down at the object in m~ band. I assumed, from its shape and appearance, it might be some kind of coin. If so, however, I certainly did not recognize it. It seemed alien to me, totally unfamiliar. I clutched it, then, however, for he had told me that it was valuable.

"You are a greedy little thing, aren't you?" he said.

"I shan't be coming," I told him, petulantly. He made me angry. Too, he made me feel terribly uneasy. He made me feel uncomfortably, and deeply, female. Such feelings were terribly stimulating, but also, in their way, terribly unsettling. I did not know, really, how to cope with them.

I decided I would take the beginning of next week off from work. I would try to find out something about the yellowish object. I would, then try to think things out. Then, at my leisure, I would decide whether or not to go to the stipulated address on Wednesday.

"We shall see you on Wednesday," he said.

"Perhaps," I said.

"Wear the perfume," he said.

"All right," I said.

"Now kneel in the sand, facing the camera," said the man.

"Kneel back on your heels. Place the palms of your hands down on your thighs. Lift your head. Put your shoulders back. Spread your knees."

"Excellent," said one of the men.

"Now assume the same position," said the man, "but in profile to the camera, your left side facing us. Keep your head up. Put your shoulders back more. Good. Splendid"

"Splendid!" said another man.

"Now face the camera on all fours," he said. "Good. Now lift your head and purse your lips, as though to kiss. More. More sensuously. Now close your eyes. Good. "Splendid," said another man.

"Open your eyes now and unpurse your lips, and turn, staying on all fours, so that your left side is facing us, so that we have your profile to the camera." I complied.

"Now put your head down," he said.

I did so.

"Splendid!" said one of the men.

"Splendid!" said another.

I was keenly conscious of the radical submissiveness of this posture. I almost trembled with arousal. I dared not even think of the effect of such a posture upon a woman if she had been put in it by men who were truly in power over her. "She will do very nicely, I think," said the first man.

"She will be ideal for our purposes," said another.

"You may get up, Tiff any," said the first man.

I rose to my feet. I gathered that the session was over. I was confident that they were pleased.

The fan, which had produced the surrogate of an ocean breeze, was turned off. The photographer began to extinguish his lights and put them to the side, in a line against the wall.

One of the men turned off the projector and the beach scene which had been projected behind me vanished, leaving in its -place a featureless, opaque, white screen.

"You are very pretty, Tiffany, Miss Collins," said the first man. "And you did very well."

"Thank you," I said.

"You may now change," he said.

"We well," I said. I feared I might be being dismissed. I returned to the dressing room. I could hear them talking outside, but I could not make out what they were saying. In a few moments I emerged from the dressing room. I wore a man-tailored, beige blazer with a rather severe, matching pleated skirt, with a rather strict white "blouse, of synthetic material, and medium heels. I had wished to present a rather businesslike look. I did not wish to wear particularly feminine clothes as men are inclined to see women who do this as females, and behave towards them and, relate to them as such.

Women are no longer forced, in effect, to dress as females, in particular ways, with all the dynamic, attendant psychological effects for both sexes which might accrue to such a practice.

I then stood before the fellow who seemed to be in charge.

I saw that be did not particularly approve of my ensemble. I hoped this would not diminish my chances of meeting whatever requirements they might have in mind with respect to my acceptability. Perhaps I should have worn something more feminine. After all, I was a woman. Too, the shorts and blouse in which I bad been placed, for the pictures, left little doubt in my mind that my femaleness, at least in some sense or another, might well be pertinent to their interests. "Perhaps I should have worn something less severe?" I said, tentatively. I did want to be pleasing to them. Obviously they had a good deal of money to spend. Too, interestingly, they were the sort of men towards whom, independently, I felt a strong, disturbing, almost inexplicable desire to be pleasing.

"Your attire does seem a bit defensive," he said.

"Perhaps," I smiled. How interestingly, I thought, he had put that.

"Such defenses, of course," he said, "may be removed from a woman." His remark, rightly or wrongly, struck me as being broader and deeper in its meaning than the mere bantering witticism it might have been taken to be. It suggested more to me, unsettling me, than a mere change of, or removal of, attire. It suggested to me, for a moment, a reference to a world in which a woman might be without defenses, fully, a world in which she was simply not permitted defenses.

"Perhaps I should have worn something more feminine," I said.

He regarded me, appraisingly. I sensed that he was looking past the severe man-tailored blazer, the rather strict blouse, the rather strict, beige pleated skirt. As they had had me pose in the shorts and blouse, and had had me move, I was sure they had little doubt, for most practical purposes, as to what I looked like.

"If you are selected," he said, "any apparel which you might receive, I assure you, will leave little doubt as to your femininity."

"If I am selected?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"It is my hope that I pleased you," I said. "I thought you were pleased." One of the men, I recalled, had thought that I might be ideal for their purposes. "We are pleased," he said, "very. You did very well."

"When will you be able to make your decision?" I asked. "When will I learn whether or not I have been selected?"

"For one thing," said the man, "you have already been selected." One of the men laughed.

"That decision we are empowered to Make," said the first man. "The second decision, that with respect to the more important post, so to speak, of necessity, must be made elsewhere."

"May I call you?" I asked.

"We have your number," he said.

"I understand," I said. I was not really displeased, for he bad told me that for one thing, at any rate, I had already been selected.

"Process the photos, immediately," he said to the photographer.

The photographer nodded.

They were apparently going to proceed expeditiously in the matter. This pleased me. I do not like to wait.

"When do you think you will know," I asked, "-about the more important post?" "it will take at least several days," he said.

"Oh," I said.

"Come here,"-he said, beckoning to me. I went and stood quite close to him. "Put down your head," he said. I did so, and he, moving behind me, and pulling the collar of my blouse out a bit with his finger, put his head down, close to the side of my face, by my neck. He inhaled, deeply.

"Yes," I said, "I am wearing the perfume, as you asked."

"As I commanded," he said.

"Yes," I said, softly, rather startled at myself, "as you commanded." Is I then left. I wore his perfume.