Exposure
17
Team Building
“Leanne” by Hank Shiffman, ID8427988, licensed from Shutterstock.com
I GOT LEORA’S FILM processed Sunday morning after I’d had a lovely brunch with Beth. She was meeting her study group in the afternoon and I was meeting Leanne Kim in the studio to discuss whether she would be a good fit for becoming an assistant to replace Leora.
I had no particular opinion one way or another. Leanne was in my lighting class and was a technical theatre major. She said she was specializing in makeup, but I knew stage makeup could be very different than glamour makeup. I didn’t want to think of all my models coming out looking like they had painted faces. Still, it was going to be an interesting afternoon just photographing an Asian woman for the first time.
“Welcome to Attic Allure, Leanne.”
“So formal. Okay, thank you. I have the model release you asked for.” She handed me the page and I looked at her signature.
“Uh… Can you write this in English? I’m sorry to sound prejudiced, but I don’t read Korean,” I said.
“Damn. I thought I’d slip that by on you,” she laughed. She took the paper from me and printed a name below it. “I’m not making fun of you. This is the direct translation of my name. Kim Young-Li. That’s the way it appears on my birth certificate, but it’s likely that the doctor or whoever didn’t understand the last word. Korean natives like my parents have difficulty distinguishing between ‘r’ and ‘l’. Young-Ri would mean ‘Eternal Village.’ Don’t ask me why.”
“You don’t seem to have any difficulty with it. In fact, I never noticed much of an accent at all,” I said.
“I was born and raised in Indiana. It’s taken me twenty years to get rid of the Hoosier accent,” she said.
“So how did you get Leanne out of this name?”
“School. My school had never seen a Korean before. When my mother gave them my name, she gave it this way, ‘Kim Young-Li.’ But in Korean, the surname comes first. Not in Indiana! The principal of the school explained that in America the names had to be in the opposite order. So, my mother, being quite a literalist, rewrote the whole thing in reverse, ‘Li-Young Kim.’ It took until second grade for a teacher to be too impatient to pronounce Li-Young and start calling me Leanne. I’ve been Leanne ever since. Even though my legal name is still Kim Young-Li.”
“Wow! That is so unfair. I suppose it’s not uncommon for people with foreign names to get them changed. Would you prefer that I call you Young-Li?” I asked. I had no idea what proper etiquette would be.
“No! Even my parents call me Leanne now. I’ll probably get it legally changed soon. It just seemed like a lot of work to go through after I managed to convince the license examiner that it was really Young-Li Kim. When I turn 21, I’ll petition to have my name legally changed. It will be my coming-of-age gift to myself,” she said.
“You’ve got a great attitude toward it. I’m sure I’d be pissed if it happened to me. I had enough trouble with teachers trying to call me Nathaniel or Nathan. My birth certificate just says Nate,” I laughed. “So, here’s how we’ll work. I start with most models by doing a portrait. Nearly everyone could use a nice portrait and it gets us working together. I’ll shift you to different positions and adjust lighting and we’ll get used to each other. Do you have a different top you’d like to change into for your formal portrait?”
Leanne was wearing a plaid flannel shirt and jeans that had straps over the front. They didn’t have a bib, but otherwise, they looked like farmer jeans.
“I didn’t bring anything else with me. I just figured you were going to undress me anyway,” she giggled.
“Oh, I am,” I said. I think she was a little surprised that I just said that. “First, we should have a nice blouse or sweater for your portrait. Let me see what we’ve got.”
The girls had done a good job of organizing the costumes and clothes. I thought that was mostly Leora’s doing and was one more reason I’d miss her. I contemplated a couple of blouses and held them up to Leanne as she followed me along the rack of clothes. Then I found one with an overlapping front that created a vee with buttons up each side.
“This will be nice. Come over behind the privacy screen,” I said.
I went behind the privacy screen and Leanne followed me. I hung the blouse and then turned and unfastened the straps on her jeans, then started unbuttoning the flannel shirt.
“You’re just going to undress me? Why did we bother to come behind the privacy screen?” she asked as she watched in disbelief as I worked her buttons.
“I’ve had models who just strip out in the stage area, but I like to have the illusion of privacy and to have a place to hang up clothes as we discard them.” I took her shirt and hung it on the rack, then pulled the blouse around her. “That’s a very pretty bra, you’re wearing. I think it might show a little through this blouse. It will be a nice accent.”
The blouse was just a little big for her, but I pulled it back and tucked it in, then looked to see how nicely it stretched across her boobs. Leanne referred to herself once as fat, and she probably carried a few more pounds than necessary. But her boobs weren’t overly huge and when I got her to sit up straight, you couldn’t see the roll that hung over her waistline.
“Now, sit right up here,” I said as I turned on lights. “It’s pretty standard to use the light blue backdrop for portraits, though I think we’ll get into something more dramatic when we reach the Attic Allure photos. I want you sitting up straight. Head tilted just slightly to your right. Chin up. Good!”
I went to the camera and took our first shot, then returned to her and fussed at repositioning her, changing the lighting slightly, and touching her shoulders and her hands. By the time we were finished with the portrait, we were working pretty well together. I’d asked her to freshen her lipstick and suggested a little more eyeliner. I didn’t think she was wearing much of any makeup when she came in.
“Let’s go back behind the privacy screen again,” I said, taking her hand. She came with me quickly and I began unbuttoning the blouse. “I’m seeing some great possibilities for your Attic Allure glamour shot. You’ve got beautiful features. And I love your bra. Did you wear matching panties?” I asked as I unbuttoned the jeans. She kicked her tennis shoes off as I pulled down the pants and took them off her feet.
“Yes. Obviously,” she said.
“Oh, yes. Very pretty. Now have a seat here in front of the makeup mirror. I’d like you to apply your makeup. You brought makeup, right?”
“Yes, of course. I thought I was auditioning for a job as a makeup artist.”
“You are, in part. I’m going to want your experience with costumes, lighting, and props, too. But first, I’d like you to do a couple of things with your makeup. I’d like you to deepen your eyes just a little, and shape your cheeks so they slope in beneath your cheekbones just a little more. Don’t exaggerate it. Then let’s lighten your lipstick a little and shape your brows upward slightly. I’m going to brush out your hair a bit and pull the bangs off your forehead. Can you take care of the makeup?”
“I think I see what you want. Do you get this detailed with every model?” she asked as I brushed her hair and she sorted out her makeup.
“No. Once I know that we are communicating and you can see what I’m going for, I’ll just say things like, ‘Give me a little more drama,’ or ‘Bedroom eyes.’ When I had Rose in a few weeks ago for the performance review, I was calling out instructions to the crew like, ‘Blue,’ ‘I need a dungeon,’ or just ‘food!’ Rose said I was like some magician she knew named The Amazing Ballantine. My assistants just went about making the illusion happen. I really love them all.”
“Do you think you’ll love me, too?” Leanne asked as she bent to the task of applying her makeup. I put my hands on her shoulders and gently massaged her.
“I have no doubt. Just remember, no sex in the studio.”
She snorted and I laughed.
“I’m going to get the bed ready for your next scene,” I said.
“Moving right along now,” she said as she worked on her makeup.
I pulled the red background and rolled the daybed into the scene. I went through the various bedding we had and pulled a copper-colored satin sheet set and several pillows. I reset the lights for a romantic bedroom scene.
“How’s this, Nate?” she asked, stepping out from behind the screen.
I mostly tried to pay attention to her makeup, but the peach-colored bra and panties were definitely eye-catching. And they weren’t particularly provocative. The bra had a substantial cup and the panties were opaque and cut in a respectable bikini design. I nodded.
“Wait right there,” I said. I ran to the clothes rack and found a chiffon peignoir that was a close match for the color of her underwear. I slipped it over her arms and nodded. “Ah, where to begin? Let’s start with you lying on your tummy.”
We started there and it didn’t take all that long to go through another roll of film. While I was changing the film, I continued to look at Leanne. Lying on her side with her head propped in her hand, she looked inviting, but her right boob was nearly out of the bra, dragged toward the center by the sheer weight.
“You know,” I said, sitting on the bed beside her, “this beautiful boob is about to fall out of your bra.” I stroked across her breast. “I think we should set it free.” I reached behind her and unfastened the bra. I helped her sit up so she could take off the peignoir and then the bra, but I had her put the peignoir back on. “Now, let’s see if we can get you in the same position with this beautiful breast out where we can see it.”
“It’s kind of floppy,” she said. I could see the hint of a blush as I stroked her breast and played with the nipple a little.
“I don’t think anyone could look at the photo I’m about to take and not want to just hold it and caress it. Let’s make sure that nipple is nice and hard and take the first picture.”
In the course of the next few pictures, I got her panties off of her, too. The shot of her on her knees looking straight at me was wonderful. All this time, though, I kept the bit of chiffon over her with her nipples peeking through it.
“I’d like to change sets again,” I said. “Fortunately, the bed rolls. When I use the sofa, I need someone to help me lift it. We’ll do a set on the sofa some other time. I want to use the chair for now. You’re really proving to be a most photogenic model.”
“I can’t believe what you are getting me to do,” she said, standing and waiting for me to move the bed and bring the chair.
Before setting the chair, I pulled down the black backdrop. Once the chair was in position, facing to the side, I went back to Leanne and pulled the bit of chiffon off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then I picked her up and carried her to the chair, much as I’d done with the CP model, Emily, over a year ago. She wrapped her arms around my neck and when I bent to place her in the chair, she kept my face there and kissed me softly. I was in a perfect position to pet and play with her breasts while we kissed.
Then I moved her into position so she was curled in the chair and leaning against the arm looking toward the camera. I liberally petted her back and bottom as I positioned her hand under her chin.
“Now give me an expression of contemplation. Keep your head here: three-quarters front. Cast your eyes in my direction. Good. Now, tell me what you are contemplating. You have just a hint of a smile. I like that. What’s going through your mind?”
“I’m wondering if sex with you could possibly be as good as modeling for you,” she said. I got the picture.
“Well, sweetheart,” I said as I returned to the chair to pick her up and carry her behind the privacy screen. I sat down with her in my lap and kissed her again. “Perhaps one day, we’ll both find out. But this is pretty much as far as sex in the studio goes. As my assistant, I don’t want you thinking that whenever you come to work, you have to put out… or that I do.”
“I’m happy with this for now,” she said, pulling my head down so I could kiss and suck her nipples. I had a hand resting between her thighs and she spread her legs wider to give me access. I parted the bush of pubic hair and glided across her clit. It took only a few moments for her to throw her head back and sigh as her legs clamped my hand in place.
“It’s time to dress and we’ll talk about whether you’d like to become an assistant.”
I went out and retrieved her bra and panties for her. Then, because I’m a gentleman, I helped her put them back on.
“I do like the work environment here,” she sighed.
Most of my classes the next week were review of material from the rest of the term. It was good that most of the professors weren’t introducing new material, but I still had major papers due for Writing and Rhetoric and for World History. I’d lugged Mom’s old manual typewriter to Chicago with me and was seriously considering using some of my leftover student loan to buy an electric. There was no sense in spending extra money now. It really didn’t look like I’d need a loan for my second year. I’d paid most of my expenses out of my own funds and had brought in a pretty healthy income already this year.
The big project for the class of ’69 had all been handled and billed in December and January. Thirty-six members of the class, including all the girls, had paid for an Attic Allure photo session, and most ended up with an order of fifty dollars or more. That was in addition to collecting a $15 fee for every member of the class for their yearbook photo. I’d been managing two or three professional sittings a week in the Chicago studio and most of them were paid sittings with sale of extra prints. Even those that signed model releases so I didn’t charge for the sitting, ended up buying an average of twenty prints.
Cassie collected whatever was owed in Chicago and made deposits. Patricia collected for all the sittings in Tenbrook and made deposits. Anna consolidated the accounting and made sure my bills were paid.
Now, I was concerned about getting a team together that would accompany me to Las Vegas during the hottest month of the year. And I was going to meet directly with a representative of my patrons on Thursday evening to go over what would be included and expected. The only representatives of the patrons I’d ever met were Uncle Nate and Levi. I really didn’t even know who the patrons were.
They had never directly paid me money. I guess that’s weird, but I wasn’t complaining. I’d gotten a new camera, new lenses, two full darkroom setups, and a space in Camera Warehouse for a studio with a ton of props and scenery and costumes. Nearly all my photographic supplies, including film, paper, and chemicals were billed at wholesale. I couldn’t complain about any of that. And most of my models came by referral from my patrons. Levi said more were coming on reputation now instead of direct referral, but they got it all started.
I was wondering how they were going to handle a month of work and people in Las Vegas.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hart. I’m Donald Garfield. Please call me Don. Mr. Mayer, it’s good to see you again.”
“Thank you, Don,” I said as we shook hands. “Please call me Nate. I’m glad to meet someone who can put a little reality to all the ideas I’ve been presented with.”
“I’m going to do that, but first, let’s get some food on the table. Why don’t we start with Italian sausage and peppers. Maybe prosciutto with burrata.”
He didn’t really wait for agreement, but flagged the waiter and ordered that with a round of drinks. The waiter carefully did not look at me.
Uncle Nate had instructed me on dressing for the evening. I had a nice sport coat and slacks on with a tie. I’d brushed my hair back and trimmed my mustache off my lip. Yeah, I didn’t start out to grow long hair and a beard, I just never got around to getting a haircut or shaving. Mom had asked if I was becoming a hippie. I said I thought you had to play guitar to be a hippie.
“Now, this restaurant has been around since 1941. It’s the best steakhouse in Chicago, though if you prefer, they do a pretty good Italian Casoncelli. Personally, though, I recommend the Porterhouse. You look like you could eat a cow. Growing boy. I love it. The Porterhouse is 28 ounces and those in the know order it charred rare.”
He was a real talker and I just agreed with his suggestion. Uncle Nate had one, too, so I figured it was okay to order the most expensive thing on the menu. I tried to pace myself with the drinks. I’d never had a Manhattan and decided I’d let it pass after a few sips. But there was wine with the meal and Don didn’t seem inclined to get down to business too fast. I was thinking of Ronda coming in on Saturday and heading to Tenbrook for Mother’s Day.
“Well, let’s have a little smoke before dessert,” Don said. “Can I get you a cigar?”
I declined and pulled out my pipe. I was still pretty new at smoking a pipe, but felt it gave me an air of sophistication. I’d been to the Iwan Ries Tobacco shop after Christmas and got a nice Dr. Grabow pipe and their Three Star Blue tobacco. I managed to get stoked up as Don and Uncle Nate cut cigars and sat back with whiskey. I requested black coffee.
“Now, Nate, you’re probably asking yourself why I’m treating you like royalty for dinner tonight. It’s simple. We want you to work on a movie with us. We aren’t asking you to become an actor or a writer. We’ve got a movie idea and have created a production company. Dinner tonight is on the company’s dime,” he said.
“What kind of movie?”
“I can’t go into a lot of detail, but we’re talking a big budget production with A-list stars. Here’s how this works. A guy—I can’t tell you who—sees you at work. He’s fascinated by the whole thing. So, he calls a guy who has written a few movie scripts. He tells him about what an interesting subject the whole process of art photography is. The writer gets excited and puts together a pitch. The two guys go to see a producer and give him the pitch, then there’s three guys excited about it. Of course, the producer has to pitch it to the money. And when the money gets excited, we all hit the jackpot.”
“But I don’t know who any of these guys are,” I said.
“Oh, you’ll meet most of them eventually. That’s part of what this whole Las Vegas gig is about. We could have pulled it together in Hollywood, but the money is in Vegas. So, if you’ll join us, Photosensitive Productions—that’s the name of the company—wants you to spend a month in Vegas, just doing what you do. We’ll get models, a studio, and I understand you like to work with junk, so we’ll get lots of junk for you, too. And for a month, we’ll just observe you and your crew to absorb the process and watch you work. The observers will include the writer and producer, maybe a director if we’ve got one by then, and anyone we think needs to see the source material.”
“That sounds like you guys will be going to a lot of expense and effort to get background for a movie. Is that usual?”
“No. Not at all. But the money in this instance is a little eccentric. He wants to have something that is as close to reality as we can make it—as far as the atmosphere goes. He’s so enthused that he’s given us a pre-production budget of half a million dollars. You’re part of that.”
“Wow!” That all seemed like a bunch of hand waving to me. Who’d ever pay that kind of money to make a movie about photography?
“So, here’s your part of the budget. You’ll get paid $200 a day for every day you work—and that includes travel days. Your assistants, and you can bring up to a dozen of them, will get $100 a day they work. I’m saying a day that you work because you’ll be in Vegas for a month and no one is expecting you to work every day. But, it’s up to thirty days if you work that hard. You’ll have transportation, lodging, and food provided. My understanding is that you and your crew are pretty tight, so we’re arranging a suite of rooms in the Sands tower. Nice place, but not a high roller suite. Still, there should be plenty of room for twelve people in the six bedrooms.”
“The Sands? Isn’t that the famous home of the Rat Pack?” I asked.
“We don’t talk about that. They’re gone. Sinatra is at Caesar’s now. The new owner of the Sands doesn’t get along with Sinatra. So, each day there will be a driver and a bus to get you to and from your studio. You’ll work in an empty theater in the Arts District that is dark for the summer. Once we have your agreement, your man Levi will direct locating the kind of junk you like to have, but there is also a bunch of theatre crap stored in the place. Scenery, props, costumes, you name it.”
“That sounds like it would work. Lights?” I asked.
“Levi will make sure you are equipped with lighting that will let you do what you do best.”
Six thousand dollars for a month’s work. That was amazing. Of course, that was only if we worked every day for thirty days. It was still a lot of money.
“What about the models?”
“This is the best part of the deal. Not only will you be paid to do the work on behalf of the production company, you will have model releases from all the models and rights to their images. If they want copies of the photos, they get them straight from you.”
Holy shit!
“And I’m supposed to get an Attic Allure photo for each model, right?”
“We’re all hoping that a few will transcend that into the world of art, but yes, that’s right.”
“We’ll have to spend some time in the studio that isn’t photographing models. We’ll need to organize and clean and test settings and props. Not to mention that I’ll need to spend time processing film and enlarging. Darkroom?”
“Equivalent to what you have here in Chicago. As far as the rest, $100 and $200 a day if you’re in the studio. Oh, and Levi is also responsible to see that you have all the film and supplies you need.”
I was feeling a little light-headed and set my pipe aside. I had another drink of coffee.
“Uncle Nate? Do you think this is all right?”
“I know Don has a package for you here. I think we should take it and look it over carefully. Then we’ll need to talk to your crew. There’s no way you can launch into this alone. Fair enough, Don?”
“I think it’s time for dessert!” he answered.
I left the package with Uncle Nate. I needed to get through the next week of finals before I could really start dealing with this. And before finals was Mother’s Day. Friday afternoon, I picked up my flowers and put them in an ice chest. All except one. I went out with Beth Friday night and gave her a corsage.
“Oh! Now I’ll have to go to church Sunday!” she said. “Mum and Papa will be so pleased.”
We spent the rest of the evening talking about the trip. Beth was very excited about the trip to Vegas and was determined to find out all the shows that were playing and especially what comedians would be performing. She was especially interested to find out if any of the new breed of comediennes would be performing. She thought maybe Carol Burnett or Phyllis Diller or Minnie Pearl would be performing.
We went to her house for the night, since she intended to be home for Mother’s Day like all the rest of us. Saturday morning, I headed to the airport and waited impatiently for Ronda to step off her plane. Her last final had been the day before and she was home for the summer.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she said around kisses. Then we went to luggage claim and gathered in all her bags. She hadn’t left anything behind in Boston. It was good that I had the bus.
“Wait until I tell you about the whole deal for Las Vegas,” I said.
“Have you told Anna yet?”
“No.”
“Then save it until she’s in the car. You can tell us both. What I want to know is if you missed me and if you still love me.”
“Oh, Ronda, I’ve missed you and I love you so much I can’t even believe it. Now that I have you here, I don’t ever want to let you go.”
“Well, maybe you’ll get your wish. Ever imagine that?”
“No! You’re kidding. Are you transferring?”
“If my papers all go through, I’ll be looking for housing in Chicago this summer,” she said.
“That does it, then. We’re going to find an apartment for the three of us. And we’d better make sure there’s room for Patricia to come with Little Toni for extended stays,” I said.
“Might as well make sure there’s room for Anna, too. If we have a place that you aren’t sharing with three other guys, I bet she’ll be in town with us at least every other weekend.”
“Oh, that would be too wonderful! It has been so hard this year.”
We drove the hour out to Anna’s and there was a lot of hugging and kissing to be done as we loaded all Anna’s college gear in the bus. She got out a week ahead of me, too. I guess I couldn’t complain since Beth still had a month of classes.
As we drove to Tenbrook, I told the girls about my meeting with Donald Garfield and what the deal was. They immediately started writing out a list of people who could go with us. I gave them the names of the three girls from Chicago and told them about having hired Leanne this week. I thought we still needed another tech person. It would be nice to have someone who could set and operate lights without me running Leanne ragged doing both makeup and lights. Although I thought Theresa would work out on lights pretty well with a little more instruction.
They couldn’t believe they’d be paid $100 a day for playing with their boyfriend. I had to laugh at that. The way I saw it, I was facing the month of July with non-stop sittings and lab work. No matter how many helpers I took, I’d have to operate the camera and the enlarger. I did, however, think I could get the girls working on processing film, and maybe printing proofs. They’d often helped with that.
The time flew getting back to Tenbrook and I took Anna home and unloaded her things first, then took Ronda to her house. I got home with a couple suitcases of my own as I was expecting to move back over the summer since I’d be headed to Las Vegas for a month. No sense paying rent in Chicago if I wasn’t going to be there.
Mom and Dad were thrilled that I came home for Mother’s Day. Kat gave me a hug and wanted to show me her paintings right away. As soon as I’d told Mom and Dad about the Las Vegas adventure and left them in shock, I went up to Kat’s room to look at some of her latest.
Looking at my sister’s artwork was about the equivalent of looking at my photos. She produced a huge amount and I was impressed with how good the paintings and sketches were. I asked for the painting of Patricia with Toni. Kat said it was supposed to be my birthday present, but she was sure she’d have another by then.
I had to spend equal time looking at her sketches and paintings of Julie and Vanessa, plus two other girls she’d managed to get to pose for her. My sister had developed into a really fine artist.
By the time Kat had finished with me, I heard Patricia and Toni arrive. I scooped the two into my arms and just held and cuddled them for a while. Then, of course, I had to dance with my little girl while Patricia helped Dad get dinner on the table.
Patricia, Anna, and Ronda sat with Toni and me in church on Mother’s Day morning, all wearing their corsages that I got for them. Of course, we all had to make the circuit to the other mothers’ homes after church and ended up eating a little something at each house. I took Patricia and Toni to the studio and enjoyed the process of getting the weekly progress photos for each of them.
“I don’t think I really need a weekly progress photo anymore,” Patricia giggled as I wrapped her in my arms and smooched all over her naked body. “But I guess I could still have one when you are home to take it. Whenever Kat takes it, I end up sitting for an hour while she poses and sketches me.”
“I want to spend as much time naked with you as possible. I’ll be back next weekend and don’t plan more than a couple of trips into Chicago before the big trip to Las Vegas. You’re sure you’ll go with us?”
“I don’t see how anyone could keep me away. I’m thinking, though, that if we have an available slot, we might want to take a childcare person with us. That would make it possible for me to actually do some work with Judy and the others. If she was on your crew, we could simply set up daycare at the studio and she’d collect her daily fee, too,” Patricia said.
“That’s a neat idea. Do you have someone in mind?”
“Maybe. You know my mom is awfully attached to the little tyke. And I know she’ll want to be there for Toni’s first birthday. I really don’t think Dad would miss her that much in the middle of summer when he’s busiest. He’d just have to make his own dinner,” Patricia laughed. It was definitely worth considering.
We cuddled a little longer and I finally had to get on the road. I still had finals this week. And I needed to talk to my Chicago staff about coming out to Tenbrook for a while. We all needed to get experience working together and it would be cheaper to do out here than in Chicago.
After having Anna and Ronda with me on the drive out to Tenbrook, it was a lonely trip back to Chicago.
The good part about my finals was that my classes each met for just one two-hour period during the week to administer the test. I had five classes and on Wednesday I had two finals with none on Thursday. My Friday final was in Writing and Rhetoric and was at eight in the morning. So, it wasn’t too difficult for me to respond to an urgent request on Wednesday for a photo sitting. Theresa and Leanne were available to help.
I got to the studio a few minutes after five, munching a hero sandwich I bought from a street vendor. Theresa was already there and Leanne arrived a few minutes after I did. We got things set up and promptly at six o’clock our client arrived. She was quite stunning.
“Welcome to Attic Allure. I’m Nate Hart,” I said, holding out my hand. She took it in a firm shake.
“Thank you. I’m Sylvia. I understand you often work with model releases. I have signed one with a five-year hold on releasing my pictures. However, I have unusual requests for photos tonight and would like to pay you for your time and services tonight.”
“That would be fine, Sylvia. Our rate for a sitting is $40. That includes a portrait and an Attic Allure glamour shot. Prints are $5 each.”
“You’re cheap,” she said, opening her purse. “I have special requests that I believe will justify a higher payment. I want as many raw sexual photographs of myself as you can take and print tonight. I realize you would normally send me a proof sheet and I would order prints. It is important that I have everything before I leave here. However long that takes.”
“That’s a lot to ask.”
“Would $500 be sufficient?”
I was floored. She was offering $500 for me to stay as long as we could last, posing her and making prints. This could be an exhausting night, but I thought it would be worth it.
“I will only be keeping my assistants until 8:30. That means we would be alone in the studio as the store closes at 9:00. Maybe we should do this during the day tomorrow.”
“I don’t mind being alone with you. They can leave now if you want.”
“It makes it easier if they help me get set up. Sylvia, come with me behind the privacy screen and we’ll put your bag there.”
We went behind the screen and she opened her bag and began hanging several diaphanous gowns and a selection of sexy underwear unlike anything I’d seen. I remembered Chris telling me there was a catalog from Somebody in Hollywood that specialized in scandalous undies.
“I ask every model who comes here, are you here of your own free will? You seem very tense. Are you under duress?” I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She turned and leaned into me.
“Thank you for your concern. This was my decision for my own purposes. Please do not assume that because I’ve had a drink or two to bolster my courage that I am any less desirous of having this sitting.”
“As long as you are not impaired, I don’t mind that you’ve had a drink. Now tell me what kind of photos you want to have,” I said.
“Scandalous photos. Raw sexuality. I realize I may be older than your normal clientele, but I still have a pretty good body. I want bedroom photos, bondage photos, distressed photos, and nude photos. I am extremely flexible, so you can bend me into nearly any position you’d like to have me in if you use a firm hand. You have a firm hand, don’t you, Nate?” she asked, taking my hand and examining it.
“When I need it. You need to know that I do not do pornography and there is no sex in the studio. I do, however, often touch my models and it can be quite intimate. Is there a limit to what you want?”
“I would rather you not take any pictures of things hanging out of any of my orifices, or dripping out. Though, if I have another drink, I might reconsider that last. You’re quite handsome, you know.”
“Nothing hanging out or dripping out. Let’s get started. I’ll begin with some portrait photos so we can get used to each other. It will help me assess what kind and temperature lighting we’ll be using. I have a makeup professional working with me who may help you adjust your makeup for different settings. I think we’re going to want to play with innocence at first and then spring the debauchery after that. What do you say?”
“I think you are already thinking the way I do,” she answered.
My client was, indeed, a little older than most of my models. I guessed around mid-thirties. She had a remarkably good and firm figure. I thought she must spend a lot of time working out, or perhaps she was actually an athlete of some sort. I’d explore some sport-themed photos with her. I had shoved five $100-bills in my pocket and felt this might be a long night. Maybe all night. Once the first lighting was set, I sent Theresa to tell Levi that I expected to work all night. I also wanted her to go out and get a thermos of coffee. I’d probably need it.
Sylvia was certainly flexible—both physically and mentally. She could accept just about any suggestion. By the time we’d finished the first roll of film, she was accepting my touch as if she expected it. No… more as if she desired it.
When I finished a roll of film, I’d get it immediately into the developer tank and Theresa would stir it for the ten minutes it took before it was ready to rinse. As a result, I had strips of negatives ready as quickly as I finished a roll.
Leanne stepped in and adjusted Sylvia’s makeup several times. We did the innocence set and my older model actually came off looking almost like a teenager. Stripping the teenager had such an aura of surprise to it that I almost believed it myself. But when Sylvia proceeded to push her bare boobs into my hands at every opportunity, the aura was gone and I realized she was being very deliberate.
I began to wonder if I had been wise to have the girls leave me alone with her at eight-thirty.
“Let’s do some bondage,” I said when the girls had left.
“Me or you?” she asked.
“Well, I need to be able to operate the camera, so I think we’ll tie you up. You don’t mind, do you?”
“I hope you’ll take full advantage of having me helpless in your hands.”
I set a chair in the middle of the stage area and seated her. I pulled her arms behind her and looped a few strands of satin cord around her wrists.
“You need to pull it much tighter or I can simply slip out of it,” Sylvia said.
“I always try to let my models have a way out,” I answered.
“Oh, you shouldn’t give me a way out. You should make sure the cords are good and tight and I can’t get free. I will use a code word to indicate that you must stop whatever you are doing and set me free. Otherwise, you’d be stopping every time I say no or don’t and that would get boring quickly.”
“What code word?”
“Exposure.”
Really? Okay. I tied the ropes, making sure that I could get them loose but that they were snug enough that she couldn’t slip out of them. She appeared to struggle against them a moment, but then relaxed.
“You’re enjoying this,” I said. I petted her boobs. “Your nipples are hard and excited.”
“They get harder if you suck on them and bite them,” she rasped.
She had lovely round breasts with small tight nipples and areolae. I squeezed them and then bent to lick and suck them. One of her feet kicked out. It wasn’t at me, but I wondered if there was a connection. I sucked again and she kicked again.
“Don’t restrain my feet so I can’t kick you,” she panted.
Oh! I understand, Brer Rabbit. I got another length of cord and knelt beside her to tie a foot to the leg of the chair. When I pulled her foot back to the leg, she spread her legs and put her foot on the outside of the chair instead of in front of it. She did the same on the other side. I looked at her cleanly shaved slit and saw moisture glistening on it. I stepped back and finally took a couple of frames. I’d been tying her for nearly fifteen minutes without taking any pictures. I stepped back to her.
“Bondage excites you,” I said, running a finger through her slit. She thrust her pelvis forward.
“Yes. Sometimes it excites me so much that I scream. So, it’s better to gag me.”
I see. I got a silk scarf from the costume rack and whipped it around her face and tugged it into her mouth. One thing I’d figured out—finally—was that she wanted to be handled firmly. She’d said that to me earlier. Use a firm hand. I also realized she could no longer use her code word to stop me from doing anything I wanted to her. I looked at her and shot another couple of frames.
“Oh, dear,” I said. “You can’t give me instructions now, can you? You’ll have to simply obey mine. I want you to slide your butt forward on the chair. Here, I’ll help.” I lifted her by her butt and set it out at the edge of the chair, causing her to arch her back to where her hands were tied. It also spread her legs farther, though I thought she was exaggerating that movement a bit. I took a couple more pictures.
“What usually happens when you find yourself bound and splayed open like this, Sylvia?” I ran my finger through her slit and used her copious fluid to manipulate her clit a little. “Do you usually get fucked? Does someone just sit across from you and watch as you helplessly lubricate in hopes that someone will help ease the burning in your pussy?”
She tilted her head back and moaned while I repositioned the camera and took another shot. These were her pictures, so I saw no harm in taking a picture that showed her pussy splayed open.
“I’m tired of this game,” I said. “I might tie you to something else later that isn’t so comfortable. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Let me help you sit up now.”
That sounded kind, but I reached between her legs and put two fingers into her pussy, then used my other hand to take most of the weight as I lifted her and put her butt back on the chair. I debated what was safest to untie first and decided on her hands. She worked them and reached up to remove the scarf in her mouth as I untied her feet. I stepped back and took more pictures as she got her hands and feet loosened up again.
“You didn’t let me come,” she said. “I was so close.”
“We’re not done,” I said.
We ‘worked’ until nearly midnight, and during the course of bending her and twisting her into various pretzel positions, I did make sure she came. Several times. Finally, though, I thought we had enough and I said it was time to go to the darkroom.
“If you want to be useful, you can come into the darkroom and process film while I print proofs so we can select which frames to enlarge.”
She simply followed me into the darkroom without bothering to dress. I set her up with a tank and a roll of exposed film and then turned the light out so I could do the first proof sheet from the negatives that were already processed. When I had a sheet in the tray to be developed, I took the tank from Sylvia and rinsed that roll then loaded another. We had four more yet to process. While I set it up, Sylvia came up behind me and reached around to fondle my cock.
“I came, but you haven’t,” she said. “Do you think I’m just a prick tease?”
“It makes no difference to me. If that’s what gets you off, I’m fine with it.”
“I want to get you off.”
“Fine. Do it after you finish processing this roll.”
I was tired and a little spacey. I think I was being intentionally dismissive of her. That seemed to be what she got off on. But as soon as the roll was ready to rinse and I took the tank from her, she was unzipping my pants. I just kept working and got another tank ready to go, then moved the print to the next tank. When I turned, she was on her knees and pulled my cock into her mouth as she turned the crank on the tank.
It was good, but I managed to stretch it out through another roll of film before I sprayed her tonsils.
I got prints selected and managed to get the enlargements made between sessions of being sucked or eating her hairless pussy. Once she no longer had film to process, she could focus all her energy on my cock. I just hoped the dozen prints I’d selected to enlarge came out decently as I was constantly being distracted.
“Okay, Sylvia. It’s time for you to get dressed. Your all-night adventure is over and I have your prints nearly dry. I for one am going to my room and sleep for the rest of the day.”
“This was everything I wanted,” she said as she pulled on her clothes and collected her things into her bag. “Thank you for making my revenge possible.”
“What? What revenge?” I asked. I was a little alarmed. I thought she was playing for the sensuality of the pictures. Maybe for a partner.
“My husband has been cheating on me. These pictures are for him.”
Well, that could be worse, I suppose. I wasn’t in any of the pictures, so it all looked staged.
“Show him what he’s missing?” I suggested.
“Oh, yes. But he’s watched you work a couple of times. Calls you a fucking Casanova. He’ll look at these pictures and know exactly how they were taken.”
Oh, shit! Her husband was one of my patrons!
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
