RALA Rules
Chapter One — RALA Excites
Troy’s unsteady hand completes his signature on the contract. He closes his eyes trying to contain his euphoria. To be a model for a prestigious Southern California agency has always been one of his most cherished goals. Now, at barely nineteen years old and with the execution of this document, that dream has become reality.
Opening his eyes again, he looks across the desk to see the gentle, smiling face of his new agent, David. “Congratulations, m’boy,” the elderly multi-millionaire gushes enthusiastically, rising from his chair. Troy sets down the pen and rises as well. David offers his hand. Troy eagerly accepts it and the two shake vigorously.
“Welcome to the world of modeling, young man.”
“Thank you, thank you, sir’” Troy responds, watching the old man’s eyes dart down and back up, as he releases his grip. Taking David’s obvious hint, he turns and bends towards the girl seated beside him. Beth, his sweetheart, is all aglow, and as they kiss she squeezes Troy’s hand tightly,
“I’m so proud of you,” the cute, crimson-haired teenager softly says.
“So am I, so am I,” David’s booming baritone fills the office as he places into the boy’s hand a copy of the contract, which essentially makes Troy his property. Then he continues, “I think you’ll do fine, son.”
“I will do my absolute best, sir,” the rookie model responses, “As you told me in the last interview – ‘I was expected to do anything it takes…”
“Yes, indeed,” David interrupts, glancing nervously at his watch. In the momentary silence that follows, the faint sound of a distant vehicle is heard. “I know, I know – you – will…” his voice trails away as the rumbling noise quickly intensifies, blasting in through the open window. By now Troy has recognized the guttural grumble of some type of exotic sports car. In a scant moment, its roar all but fills the room as the car must be entering the enclosed courtyard of David’s palatial mansion. The glass in the window sash rattles from the concussion of an obviously supercharged engine. The squeal of tire rubber announces it has reached its destination and has come to a halt somewhere below the second story office.
David clears his throat. ”My beloved wife,” he announces with a slightly bowed head and a seemingly reverent tone. The gray-haired gentleman turns and begins addressing Troy and Beth, “Kids, you are in for a special treat. The monthly reception for new agency employees is this afternoon. In fact, it’s in about a half an hour. I want you both to come.”
The young couple mumbles their thanks, giving each other a rather apprehensive gaze. These two are just a few months from the Kansas farming community they both call home and the thought of an upscale party, especially one they hadn’t planned on, is at once quite exciting and quite scary.
“Troy,” the agent places a hand on the youth’s broad shoulder, “My beloved RALA has not met you yet. SHE wants to. SHE is downstairs, waiting. SHE will take you and drop you off at the reception.”
Looking over at his suddenly concerned girlfriend, Troy says hesitantly, “Oh, O.K. and Beth?” Instinctively they reach to hold each other’s hand. Neither has seen, nor knows much about the enigmatic RALA, but they have heard hushed bits of urban legend from acquaintances.
“I hope that your lovely Beth will accept my invitation to ride with me in the limo’” David responds giving the girl a pleasant, almost fatherly grin. “Why, of course, sir. I would be delighted,” then she adds sheepishly, “I’ve never been in a limousine before.” “Well, now is the time, my pretty lassie!” he chuckles, turning towards her handsome boyfriend, “Tell her goodbye, I mean, until you see each other later.” Quickly they embrace and whisper back and forth before a tender kiss.
“Troy, you must go to RALA now,” David states, reaching up to sling his arm around the tall youth and guide him away. “As you’ve heard, SHE is in the courtyard. Can you find your way down there while I attend to Beth’s ride?” “Of course, sir,” the fresh-faced, and now aspiring new model, replies with a smile. “Good, good,” his agent beams, patting him on the back and helpfully ushering him out into the hallway, “Good luck, son” David concludes as a hearty send-off.
Watching the old man disappear back into his office, Troy suddenly feels alone, quite alone, with a whirling sensation in his head the result of the last few minutes; signing the contract of a lifetime with the famous David, in his historic mansion while sharing all this with his sweet Beth. How could he want for more?
His feet move as if un-attached, his body seeming to float as he walks along the ornate corridor. In a few steps it opens into a balcony that overlooks the grand foyer. He catches a glimpse through the huge, stained glass transom of the exterior and of a small portion of the gleaming vehicle parked under the portico. Troy is a car guy and is sure he recognizes the lines of a Lamborghini. He nearly stumbles at the stair landing trying to crane his neck for a better look. Down the long curving stairs he glides. Then he is at the massive oak entry door, which is swung open by the crisply uniformed servant. The dusky sunlight streams in, with an invitation to bask in its orange-tinted glory. Troy steps outside and onto the marble paving. The sight is instantly overwhelming to the innocent farm boy. What he sees is, indeed, a low-slung Lambo, a Gallardo Spyder, no less. Its sensuous contours are a glistening metallic gold, what he knows to be a custom select color. Never having seen one in person, he simply stands motionless taking in the sleek, stunning appearance of what must be a million dollar machine. His view is of the rear: muscular deck, twin exhausts sending forth a low idling noise and a personalized plate that vainly reads W-R-S-H-P-M-E, which he quickly translates. The message sends a quiver through Troy’s body.
His ears suddenly detect motion from behind. The distinct sound of a woman’s clicking high heels echoes off the adjacent stone walls and overhead canopy. Ever louder they grow, sharp staccato cracks reminiscent of gunshots. Before he can turn, he feels HER presence. Abruptly, SHE brushes by; a slight arm to arm contact is followed by HER coming into his field of view. At this particular moment, there is nothing in Troy’s short life that could have possibly prepared him for the magnificent creature he now beholds.
SHE is tall—very, very tall! HER soaring height is made even more extraordinary by a pair of platform ankle boots sporting extremely slender, extremely towering stilettos. Troy’s physical senses are in immediate overload, trying to take in the visual splendor of this blonde amazon bombshell. HER gait is precise and fluid like that of a sophisticated supermodel strutting down the runway with every eye glued to the confidence, indeed the aloof arrogance, SHE projects. HER hips are pounding rhythmically like powerfully driven pistons, swiveling in wild, exaggerated motions. A pair of impossibly long, pristinely sculpted legs swings in short, swift arcs, each boot planted firmly on the pavement, far ahead and across the previous ones path.
Troy watches as SHE saunters alongside HER shining vehicle tracing an index finger down its sweeping contour. Pausing at the elevated scissor door on the passenger’s side, SHE places the palm of a driving glove onto an up-thrust hip. He hears HER muted voice and realizes that SHE is talking on a mobile device. His eyes survey up and down HER colossal figure, its curvaceous surfaces coated in a silver sheen catsuit. HER tanned surfaces are barely diffused by the semi-transparent film. The skin-fit elastic spandex covers a lot, but conceals little. Taut, twin ass globes project outward, swaying majestically with every measured step; their cleavage deep and deliciously inviting.
HER left hand drops and a finger emphatically points to the seat. Even in his state of bliss Troy recognizes this as an indication that he is to get in. He staggers forward while SHE glides around the door and traverses the front of the Lambo. Troy audibly gasps, seeing in profile a bosom of immense proportions, cantilevered out in gravity-defying firmness. He hears HER say, “Bye, babe” as SHE evidently concludes the phone conversation, arriving at the open driver’s side door. Troy is in speechless awe, unable to process the stunning sight of this twenty-something beauty only a few feet away.
SHE looks over at the ruggedly handsome young hunk and proudly states, “I AM RALA.”