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3
The Real Me
“Charlie” by Dean Drobot, ID1622036056 licensed from Shutterstock.com.
ANNA AND I went out with members of the cast after As You Like It for a late-night snack. It always amazed me that the actors would want to go out after working all evening. It was a little like what Beth had described in Las Vegas. The dancers in the show loved to go out dancing. Actors loved to go out drinking or eating.
“So, I got a picture during the cast shoot and I’m thinking that I should have my own set of special photos done,” said an actress seated across from us. “Gabriella and Anita say you can bring out the real me and make me beautiful at the same time.”
“Um… Hi. I’m Nate. I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you,” I said.
“Of course. I’m Rustic Number 3 in the cast. Charlotte Bailey. I usually go by Charlie.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Charlie,” I said. “This is my girlfriend and assistant, Anna.”
“I remember you from the photo session. The girl with the clipboard.”
“I think that’s what it says in the program,” Anna laughed. “When would you like to come in for a photo?”
“We had Saturday performance this weekend, so next weekend I should have Saturday off. Does that work?”
Anna pulled a notepad out of her little purse and wrote the date and time on it. She handed it to Charlie to get her address and phone number.
“I’m sure Nate will be able to bring out the real you. And there certainly won’t be any problem showing you as beautiful.”
“I’m not as easy to photograph as you might think, but I don’t want to discuss it at the table. Perhaps if I’m completely naked, it will counteract the beautiful part. Most men seem to think that.”
“Charlie, whether or not you get naked will depend entirely on how you want the photoshoot to proceed and what kind of photo you want from it,” I said. Something about the lovely young woman told me she had a serious self-image issue. I thought her eye makeup was a little overdone and her eyebrows too heavily penciled in. But the shape of her face was incredible. Short hair framed her face perfectly. From what I could see, I thought she had a very nice figure—perhaps, like so many of the actresses, a little too thin.
“Everyone speaks highly of you,” she said. “I’ll look forward to my time in your hands.”
Gabriella and Anita could certainly attest to my taking them in hand. As could Kathleen, Olivia, Greta, Bridget… I wondered if my reputation was keeping as many actresses away from the studio as it drew to it.
At that point, Anita settled into a seat between Kathleen and me. She’d been running a little late.
“Incredible performance tonight,” I said. “I honestly couldn’t recognize you when you appeared as Ganymede. Until you started role-playing with Orlando and your voice changed back into your natural register. That was amazing.”
“My vocal coach would be proud of your praise,” Anita said. “There’s just so much you can do with your voice. I may have hit a couple of high notes during our session together that I don’t usually manage.”
“I think some were notes normally only heard by dogs,” I teased her. “I hope I’ll have you back for more photos.”
“Gabriella and I have been talking to Leanne and Judy about doing characters. They said they both work with you quite a lot,” Anita said.
“I haven’t even seen them since we got here this summer,” I sighed. “I’m going to have to chase them down somewhere just to get a conversation.”
“You won’t need to chase far. You’re photographing Three Penny Opera this week, aren’t you? They both worked as the assistants to the costumer and makeup artist.”
I glanced over at Anna and she nodded.
“I think Patricia will be assisting you this week.” She glanced over at Charlie. “Girl with a Clipboard 2.” Both started laughing.
The Three Penny Opera would be opening in a week at the Avon Theatre. Being performed on the proscenium stage, it had slightly more involved settings than the sets on the more open festival stage, or in the experimental Patterson Theatre. It was the first time I’d seen John on this trip, though he’d been to the studio to deliver some sets and props.
“Hey, John. Good to see you again. Thanks for delivering those set pieces and props,” I said.
“No problem. I brought them from the university. Figured you could use them.”
“What? You mean the big flats?”
“Yeah. I taught a scene painting class this winter. As a final project, the students had to paint a backdrop scene on a flat. When it was all done and graded, I loaded the flats in my trailer and delivered them to you. Use one yet?”
“A couple of them. There are some beauties in that batch.”
“I had some really talented students. Of course, students don’t have room to keep six-by-ten works of their own art. So, I decided they should have a place where they could be used. One day, maybe next fall, I’ll take them all back to the university, whitewash them, and have students do another set,” he said.
“I’m in your debt,” I said.
“Least I can do to repay you,” he said.
“Repay me? For what?”
“A particularly beautiful Chinese girl drove up here the minute she got her degree in Chicago. She’s now sharing my little house and it makes it much warmer.”
“Min? You really got together with Min?”
“Oh, yeah. Really got together. You know she’s going to want a new photo this summer with Leanne and Judy and you working on her. Can’t wait to see what you come up with this time.”
“It’s going to be a really busy couple of months,” I said. “Have her get with Anna right away to schedule anything.”
“I think she planned to head over to the studio today while we’re busy here.”
“What can you tell me about this show that I’m shooting today and tomorrow? I know absolutely nothing about opera.”
“You’ll still know nothing after I tell you all I know,” he laughed. “It’s based on an old play from the 1700s called The Beggar’s Opera. Berthold Brecht and his girlfriend, Elizabeth Hauptman reworked it. She translated the play into German and helped Brecht rewrite it. They got Kurt Weil to write the music. Some people say that just because it has ‘opera’ in the title doesn’t make it an opera. It’s more of a musical with a lot of spoken dialog, punctuated by show tunes. Of all of them, the only one you’ll recognize is ‘Mack the Knife,’ because Bobby Darin did a recording of it about fifteen years ago that has stayed popular.”
“I had no idea it was from a German opera,” I said.
“Retranslated back to English.”
We got started with the photos as soon as the cast got to the stage. It was unusual for any cast to be in full makeup by noon on Monday and there was a fair amount of grumbling about the photo shoot. Everyone was dressed in some semblance of depression era clothing. It was pre-World War Two. The big battle was between the king of the beggars and the king of the criminals, who had just married the beggar king’s daughter.
We moved from scene to scene in a very flexible and abstract kind of setting where a few moving pieces changed things from a street to a warehouse to a brothel to a jail. As usual, I shot a lot of color slides on the Nikon and all black and white negatives on the Hasselblad.
It wasn’t until we were packing up to leave at five-thirty that we finally saw Judy.
“Patricia! You’re here!”
“I’ve been here all day and thought you were avoiding me,” Patricia said as she ran to meet her best friend from high school.
“I’ve been in the dressing room since call at ten, literally sewing actresses into their costumes. The designer is a real stickler for authentic detail, but no one really knows how to dress in depression era clothes here. Oh, I’m so glad to see you guys!”
I finally got a hug and kiss from Judy. A very friendly kiss.
“It’s good to see you. Are you all graduated?”
“I think so. I had to leave St. Louis a week before commencement to come up here. All my profs said I graduated, though. They were all proud that I was working at the festival. I’m just trying to figure out what I’ll be doing this winter. If I’m homeless, can I come to Chicago and live with you? I’ll trade my body for rent.”
“That’s an attractive offer,” I laughed. “But we don’t really know where we’ll be living. We’re giving up the apartment at the end of our lease in September. I don’t think we’ll have to move to Washington, but Ronda and I will be traveling a lot.”
“What’s going on?” Judy asked. She grabbed one of my bags to carry as we left the theatre and headed home for dinner.
“I will start serving my alternative service on September first. I guess I’ll be working for the State Department.”
“Wait! You mean you were drafted?”
“Parting gift from my local draft board.”
“Oh, Patricia! I’m so sorry!” Judy dropped my bag and turned to hug my girlfriend. That made sense in a way.
“It will be okay,” Patricia said.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to stay home and brood.”
“Oh, don’t be depressed! I’ll stay with you!” Judy said as we continued toward the studio.
“I don’t mean brood as being depressed,” Patricia laughed. “I mean brood as in sitting on my eggs until they hatch.”
“Eggs? Oh! Are you pregnant?”
“Trying. Nate’s been pretty attentive to getting one fertilized. Right now, I’m just hoping.”
“Let’s get him to your place and make sure he does a good job of it!”
We were still laughing about Judy’s enthusiasm when we dropped the gear in the studio and went upstairs to meet Ronda, Anna, and Toni. Toni wasn’t sure who to run to first, but Patricia still won out as she picked up our little girl and she began telling us all about her day at school.
We all had a good time catching up with Judy and finding out about her last year in school. She loved working in the Stratford costume shop, even though it wasn’t designing shows. She’d been given some responsibility to execute a series of designs for the whores in the opera and thought she’d be working on another set of costumes for She Stoops to Conquer.
“If nothing else, my job is secure as long as there’s laundry to be done and repairs to be made,” she laughed. “And I really like the people I’m working with. It’s just a terrific atmosphere. With this on my resume, I’ll probably be able to find winter work with about any repertory company in the country.”
“That’s great. I’m so glad to hear that you’re happy,” I said. I took Toni to the living room to read to her before bed. The girls were all happily chatting in the kitchen. My little girl curled up in my lap and went to sleep as I read Frog and Toad Are Friends.
I carried her to bed and went to find out what was going on. Ronda and Anna were in the kitchen, playing cribbage.
“Guest room,” Anna giggled. “I think they started the party without you.”
“Am I paying enough attention to you two, who are the other loves of my life?”
“You could give us a nice kiss before you disappear for the night,” Ronda said. “Then Anna and I will finish our game and go to bed. Sometime in the next two or three hours.”
“I love you,” I said as I held and kissed each of the girls. We weren’t rushed about it, but eventually they turned me and pushed me toward the guest room.
Judy and Patricia weren’t in a passionate embrace. They were both naked and wasted no time getting me in that condition, but they were just sitting on the bed chatting and laughing.
“I don’t need to interrupt your girls’ night,” I said. “If you just want to be together and renew things for the night, I’ll go over to the other bedroom. It’s been a long day for all of us.”
“Don’t punk out on us,” Patricia said. “Judy is convinced that she can help inspire you to completely fill me with a baby. To hear her talk, by the end of the night I’ll be two months pregnant!”
“We’d better get started if we have that far to travel in one night!”
And we did.
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t really need Judy’s help to deposit a huge load in my loving girlfriend. She was inspiration enough on her own. But when we’d made it that far, Judy was surprised that I still had a couple little squirts to deposit in her butt as Patricia ate her to a noisy climax.
Patricia was with me again all day on Tuesday and Judy managed to spend some time in front of the stage with us, making notes on costumes. This time, we said goodbye at the theatre and Patricia and I walked home. I had a stop to make, though.
“Why are we stopping at a florist?” Patricia asked.
“I want to take my beautiful wives some flowers tonight,” I said. “I think it’s a special occasion.”
“Really? What?”
“I’ll tell you when I tell the others,” I laughed. “Feel good that you get to see me buying a bouquet.”
“Ooh. Do I get to pick the flowers?”
“Next time. This time, I already ordered what I wanted.”
We stepped into the shop and Patricia was speechless when the florist handed me the huge vase. It had three dozen beautiful red roses and a dozen pink sweetheart roses. They were interspersed with baby’s breath and greenery. I managed to carry the bouquet and my camera case, as Patricia carried the tripod case and her notebook and film bag.
We stumbled up the stairs after dropping the equipment in the studio. Patricia went first and caught up Toni, calling Anna and Ronda to greet me. The girls were all stunned by the beautiful arrangement.
“My darling wives and my precious daughter,” I said.
That caused another gasp because I seldom ever referred to Toni as my daughter. It was always my Little Girl or my goddaughter. It was time in my mind to stop pretending she was anything less than my daughter. I was trying every night to get her mother pregnant.
“We don’t have an anniversary. I think we all remember things like our first date and the first time we made love, and maybe the first day we moved in together or bought a house in Canada. But when did we become a family? Today might not mean anything special to you, but it’s the day I want to remember as the day I found my family—even though I hadn’t met you all yet. You see, June 20th, the day before summer solstice, is the day I moved to Tenbrook, back in 1966. That day, my life changed. That day set the stage for you coming into my life, and I cannot possibly be happier about it.”
“Oh, Nate, that’s wonderful. It means we don’t need to worry about things like who dated you first or who you met first or who you made love to first or who you saw naked first. It brings us all into your life at once. I love it!” Ronda said.
“Me, too,” Anna said. “I don’t need to keep track of how long I kept telling myself you weren’t my forever love. I love you. And I love you, Ronda. And you, Patricia. And I love you, Toni.”
“Lub you!” Toni chimed in.
“In case you were doubting, there are a dozen red roses for each of you my lovers, and a dozen pink ones for Toni.”
“What will you do if we have a boy?” Patricia asked, giving me a kiss. She yielded my lips to Anna and after a thoroughly wonderful kiss with her, Ronda made sure I knew how much she appreciated me.
“Maybe I’ll have to dye roses blue,” I laughed. “Or perhaps I won’t care and we’ll have more pink roses or yellow ones or orange or white or something. Or maybe I’ll only do roses once and we’ll have orchids next year. The flowers are just a symbol to tell you how much I love all four of you. I love you from the bottom of my heart, my family.”
That got us started and I had to dance with Toni until dinner was served. It was a simple meal, but the roses made a lovely sixth person at the table. We all cleaned up the kitchen and then sat in the living room for reading. When we got Toni settled for bed, we all headed to the bedroom even though it was only eight-thirty. We all spent the next two hours loving each other until we dropped off to sleep.
I knew now. I could place a date on the calendar and say, ‘This is my family anniversary.’
Ronda was with me as I photographed Orpheus at the Tom Patterson Theatre the next day. It turned out to be a simple shoot. There were only four principal actors and a chorus of eight. The set was simply a couple of platforms and a ramp. There were even fewer people in the orchestra than the six who were in Three Penny Opera. I thought it was just a little confusing, as I was given to understand that the three male leads all represented Orpheus, but one was called Dancer, one Singer, and one Actor.
“I believe every composer who ever existed wrote an opera about Orpheus,” John said when he caught up with me. “This one by Charpentier is one of the simplest and was written for a studio theatre like this one. I’d suggest that you simply move actors around wherever you want them and take the pictures as if you were in the studio.”
I found his advice was perfect. I started with the principals. Eurydice’s headdress was almost as elaborate as a Las Vegas showgirl’s, but the rest of the costuming was extremely simple. It was fun to arrange the three men and Eurydice in interesting positions, using the levels in the theatre. Then I started working with Eurydice. She was a lovely woman with a voice that completely filled the theatre space.
“Monica, I’d like a couple of pictures of you in different poses than you would use while singing.”
“You want to photograph nudes here in the theatre?”
“What?”
“I understood that you take many pictures of undressed women.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what her accent was. Her English was just a little stilted.
“Oh. Yes, I do, but not during production photography. That is only studio photography, and only with the consent of the model. I was thinking, for example, of having you stretched out on the ramp with your head tilted so I can catch more of the dangling headdress around you.”
“Certainly. I have tomorrow off. I could come to your studio then,” she said as she took the pose I coaxed her into.
“I believe we were scheduled for two days of shooting here, but I don’t think we’ll need a second day. We’ll get you slated for a little later in the day if you don’t mind.”
“As you wish. This is the only show I am in and I get a little bored when I’m just waiting around.”
I finished with her poses and got a few of her with various chorus members, then worked on the chorus itself. The stage manager dismissed the actors and I took a photo of the musicians and the crew. I hadn’t seen the director at all.
Ronda and I got home about two. I thought I could get all the photos processed yet during the afternoon and would run the transparency film down to Dave as soon as we ate some lunch.
“Oh, Ronda,” Anna said when we walked into the studio. “Your dad called. He’d like you and Nate to give him a call when it’s convenient.”
We kissed our girlfriends and nodded to each other. I guessed now was as convenient as any time.
“Hi, Daddy. I hope you aren’t in trouble with the law again,” Ronda said when she connected to her father. She held the phone so I could hear as well.
“Oh, no. The law is staying a respectful distance away from me. You wouldn’t believe the number of young women who have come to me for birth control, though. No pretense of it being for cramps. These girls definitely have loose morals on their mind.”
“Like me?” Ronda teased.
“I never considered you loose in your morals, honey,” he said solemnly. “When it comes down to it, I don’t consider any of these girls that way, either. No amount of legislation ever slowed down the sexual curiosity and exploration of teens. All I want to do is make it safe for them. Actually, I wanted to talk to Nate and you about coming to Tenbrook for Independence Day. Things are heating up on the County Attorney and we want to hold a demonstration right after the parade in Huntertown. Nate, we’d like you to speak.”
“I guess that’s okay,” I said. “Um… I was going to fly to LA that day, but I think I can delay it a day. I’ll have to scoot right up to Chicago after the rally.”
“People will want to hear from you, especially now that you’ve been drafted.”
“I can speak to that up until the time I’ve actually reported. My new boss has already told me that I can’t make public protests after I’m employed,” I said.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay with it before I confirmed with the committee. This thing is actually getting organized now. We’ve found a specific law about abuse of office that White thinks will push us forward in our suit against Warren,” Dr. May said.
“I’ll do whatever I can to make sure that happens,” I agreed.
After I ran the color film down to Dave and he sent it off to London on the motorcycle, Ronda and I spent the rest of the afternoon in the darkroom. She was becoming a very competent assistant, and like all my three favorite assistants (and a couple of others) we worked together nude. That involved a lot of rubbing and kissing between stages of the process. Eventually, it involved my cock in her sweet pussy, a process we tried to extend as long as possible with the discussion of unrelated tidbits.
“What did you think of Monica today?” I asked.
“What a great voice!” Ronda responded.
“But what about her eagerness to come to the studio tomorrow so I can take pictures of her nude?”
“What can I say? Chalk another up to the limitless sex appeal of my boyfriend.”
“Or to the boredom of working on this opera,” I laughed.
“Oh, that felt good. Laugh again. She is going to want some very personal attention tomorrow. I think we should preset some things so you can focus on just capturing her and posing her.”
“Will you work with me?”
“I think this is one that will be better on your own. I don’t think she is self-conscious, but we don’t want to inhibit her.”
“I don’t think that’s something to worry about.”
“Did you notice how she moved on stage? It’s different than the actors in the other shows. She depends as much on body position and broad expressions as on her voice. I think that’s a characteristic of opera. It can be quite melodramatic.”
“Oh, damn. I need to change trays for the prints,” I said. Ronda got off me and I quickly rinsed and moved the three sheets I was developing. I sat down again and she sucked me into her mouth to make sure I was still good and hard, then settled herself back down on my cock.
“What do you think I should prepare for her?”
“Something big and hard. Like what’s in me.”
We lost track of what we were talking about and when my timer rang the next time, we were too close to stop what we were doing.
Thursday at 11:00, Monica arrived at the studio. Ronda and I had decided on a rather non-descript background with a soft chair in front of it. I’d see what else was needed as we worked together. Of course, I’d start off with the usual portrait sitting and we’d progress from there.
“Welcome to Attic Allure, Monica.”
“Thank you. You live in a fairyland,” she said, running her hands over nearly everything she could reach in the store. She was very tactile. Anna went over the release with her and then I brought her into the studio.
“I like to start with a formal portrait,” I said. “If you’d like to take a look at the gallery and see if there are moods or settings that appeal to you, we can work toward something like that. Did you bring any clothes you want to use?”
Monica was dressed in a light blue terry cloth jumpsuit with a white collar and band around the upper arms. It looked extremely comfortable and casual, not what I’d expect for a formal portrait. Her hair hung straight and she was wearing no makeup. When she turned her back to lean in over the table to look at the photos in the gallery, the suit crawled up her butt crack and clung to very shapely cheeks. I could see no panty line or bra straps beneath the stretched cloth.
“Oh, I talked to Kathleen, and she said that the best experience was just letting you dress me in whatever you wanted and that you would do my makeup in any way that was appropriate,” Monica said.
“I can certainly do that if you’d like. Sometimes clients come in with a strong idea about what they want.”
“I want to have a long day filled with excitement and adventure and a fair smattering of hard work. I’ve done all my vocal work for today. I’ve done my exercises, and walked the stage for our production. At this point, my day would be filled with sleeping, eating, and trying to discover the meaning of life. In other words, I would be bored. Kathleen said you were the perfect solution to break my boredom.”
“That’s a tall order to fill. I’m going to need a little help from one of my assistants. If you’d be kind enough to wait for me just a minute.”
I ran out to the shop and got Patricia to come back to the studio with me. She looked Monica over and headed to our costume racks. I had a feeling she’d end up getting something from her own wardrobe for the portrait.
“Okay,” I said as I led Monica to the dressing room. “Let’s begin with a little makeup. This first will be just ordinary street makeup and not really glamour makeup. We’ll get to that a little later on. Tell me a little about why you became an opera diva.”
“That is a bit of a strong word for a poor singer like me,” she laughed.
As I applied a light foundation to her face, she casually unzipped her jumpsuit nearly to her navel. A quick glance confirmed she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“I studied opera in college in Italy. I was a voice major and my voice is more suited to opera than to popular music. There isn’t much between. I did sing some lovely roles in Italy, but in general, I am considered too small for the opera stage. I was relegated to minor supporting roles. There is a prevailing prejudice that vocal range and dynamic are influenced by, if not dependent on, the ribcage size and shape. Hence, the opera is not over until the fat lady sings.”
“I heard only a little of your singing yesterday, but I found it enchanting,” I said, as I moved to eyeliner and mascara.
“My voice is perfectly suited to chamber opera like Orpheus. It is a small space and a bigger voice would drive people out of the theatre. Alas, there are not that many chamber operas being produced in the world. I came here partly to see if there was a future for the art in Stratford.”
“And?”
“It’s too early to tell. We open next Wednesday.”
“I hope you find everything your heart desires,” I said. “Now, lips.” I finished her makeup and turned to find that Patricia had been into the room and hung a nice dress on the rack along with several other items.
“This will be perfect for your professional portrait,” I said, turning to show her the dress. Monica simply shrugged out of her jumpsuit and let it fall to the floor. My assessment that she wore no panties, either, was confirmed. “Lovely,” I whispered as I circled her just to look once.
I held the dress for her to step into and then pulled it up, letting my hands brush against her large chest. Perhaps her ribcage wasn’t that big, but her breasts certainly were. I made sure they were securely tucked and displayed in the bodice of the dress while Monica hummed a melody of some sort that sounded very happy.
And so, our day started.
I had many opportunities to see and touch that stellar body as we went from costume to costume and ultimately ended with photos of her completely nude, in and around the soft chair Ronda and I had chosen. And as the day progressed, Monica became less passive in her participation. It was not unusual to find her hands on me as I removed or replaced an article of her clothing. At one point, when I had just removed a peasant blouse from her, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. It was not an unwelcome gesture and I took a few minutes while we kissed to just fondle her boobs and let her know how much they were appreciated.
But when I finished the last nude photo and I carried her to the dressing room, we didn’t continue making out for long. I kissed her nipples and then got her up to dress in her little outfit.
“I hope we will have another stimulating time next week,” she said. “This was the best way to spend a day off that I’ve ever found.”
Next week? I checked my calendar and discovered Anna had already scheduled Monica for two more sessions. I watched Monica leave and saw her pass through the shadow of the Venetian blinds in our front windows. Wow! I’d love to capture that!
I got a lot of processing and printing done on Friday, including getting the color slides from Pro Photo Source and printing the Cibachromes of the two operas. It was a busy day, but my girlfriends took turns in the darkroom with me.
I might not say much more than that most of the time, or tell about making love in the dark, but having Anna or Ronda or Patricia with me in the darkroom was really a lot more than that. Printing photos is inherently a lonely process. It’s almost like sensual deprivation—especially when I’m printing Cibachrome, which has to be done entirely in the dark, because it is sensitive to red light. Having that other, much loved person in the darkroom with me is really important. Sometimes, I just wanted the isolation for a little while, but an entire day spent alone in the dark is really too much.
It’s not like we even have sex all the time we’re in the darkroom. Those are actually pretty rare times. But we do work naked and it is mysteriously comforting to have my lover’s body brushing up against mine and anchoring me to the real world.
Well, enough of the mystique stuff. I got a lot of photos printed and Anna took charge of them for presentation to the festival marketing group.
I was surprised that Charlie wanted to start our session at nine on Saturday morning. She implied that it might take all day for me to reveal the real her. Anna also whispered that As You Like It was on at 8:00 p.m. and Charlie would need to make dinner and call, so not to dilly-dally.
She looked a little different than when I’d met her after the show a week ago. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but I thought her hair was a little different. She was not as heavily made up, either, so I passed my momentary uncertainty off as a typical change women make on a daily basis.
“Welcome to Attic Allure, Charlie. I’m not sure how familiar you are with our style here, so why not take a minute to familiarize yourself with the gallery.”
“Thank you, Nate. I’ve seen a few of these. Gabriella framed her print and hung it at her place in the dressing room. I’ve seen both Anita and Kathleen’s prints. I have to say, though, that your gallery shows a much broader range than even their pictures do. Maybe this won’t be a waste of time.”
“I sincerely hope not,” I said, a little nonplussed. “Why don’t we start with a basic portrait while we get used to working together. You can use the time to help me understand what you really want during this session. I note that you have not signed a release, so the session is really in your hands.”
“Yes and no,” she said as she sat on the stool before the light blue backdrop. “I’m quite willing to put myself in your hands. I’m prepared to pay for the experience, but if I think the photos are suitable, I’ll sign a full release. The question is whether you can reveal the real me and not make a freak out of me.”
“Charlie, you are a beautiful woman. Truly. I would have to be a ham-fisted klutz to ruin a photo of you. The way for me to reveal the real you, however, is for us to get to know each other much better,” I said as I adjusted her pose on the stool. I shifted her shoulders and raised her chin a bit.
Getting up close to her, I realized that one of the things that had been bothering me was her penciled-in eyebrows. I’d known people who shaved their eyebrows completely and then drew them in. Dora, for instance. She felt her eyebrows were too masculine and went for much thinner and shaped brows—much like Charlie had. She’d even talked about the possibility of having her eyebrows threaded or tattooed.
I had a passing consideration that Charlie might also be trans. Well, that was okay. Dora was a beautiful girl and it was obvious that Charlie was as well.
I started working Charlie into slightly more suggestive poses. I unbuttoned three buttons of her blouse and got to where I was seeing a nice rise to her breasts. Then I coaxed a kind of sneaky smile out of her that made a great photo.
“Let’s change into something a little more glamorous,” I suggested. “Would you like to try a bedroom scene, or something more mysterious?”
“What do you have that would be more mysterious?” she asked.
I ran through the costumes and came up with one that was almost like her rustic costume in the play.
“I’m thinking we could recreate some of your look from As You Like It, but with some low light and real sex appeal. You know these costumes often look like they are about to fall off. I’m thinking we might nudge it a little.”
“I like your thinking. Let’s do that!”
She followed me into the dressing room and stood while I removed her blouse. Oh, that was nice. She wasn’t wearing a bra and I had no intentions of putting her in one. I pulled the peasant blouse and vest onto her, then reached for her slacks.
“Do you mind?” I asked.
“You’re in charge,” she said.
I unzipped her slacks and worked them down over her hips. She did have a pretty pair of light blue panties on, and I didn’t see any sign that there was anything but a pussy in them. A well-shaved one, if I was any judge of the outline of her labia. I’d leave those for later. I got her into a peasant skirt and then hitched up one side of it and tucked it into the waistband so it exposed one leg to mid-thigh. Nice.
“I’d like to lighten your eyebrows a little,” I said.
I used a tissue and a little cold cream to wipe the penciled brow. Then I got my own eyebrow pencil and carefully drew in brows that looked a little more natural than what she’d arrived with. They had a grain to them instead of a hard line. That was something Dora had taught me. Charlie looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.
“Would you like to come to the dressing room each night and do that for me?” she asked. I took her smile as a sign she wasn’t being quite serious.
We went back to the setting and I rearranged a couple of lights as well as bringing down the dark blue backdrop. Charlie willingly helped me get things arranged.
Then I got her arranged. I set lights and tightened them on her, but I wasn’t getting a mysterious look yet. After a couple of pictures, I got a couple of all-purpose potted plants from our scenery collection and set them up with her.
“I’ll not be shooting full length with this,” I said. “No pots will be shown in this image.”
“Oh, I thought you were going to get me potted as well,” she laughed.
That was really a break-through moment. She laughed. I felt we had finally connected and the shots I got of her looking through the trees were more along the line of what I had in mind. I casually reached for her blouse and pulled it below one breast, stroking it as I did.
“Far too pretty to remain fully hidden,” I said. “But no blatant revelation in this shot, either. Let me adjust the light just a little.”
That did it. Looking at her, you knew she was exposed. If I processed the photo just right, you’d be able to see her bright nipple against her pale skin. But with the light low as it was, most people would look and strain their eyes to see if they could see it. Maybe there. Just a hint.
“Let’s be just a little bolder. I have a woodland drop here someplace. Yes. We’ll pull that behind you and I’ll be lighting you mostly from behind with a little fill on your face. But we’ll get rid of the blouse altogether.”
“Might as well lose the whole kit and instead of being a peasant, I can be a woodland sprite.”
“I like the way you think.” I proceeded to undress her right there among the potted plants. Yes, that hairless pussy was definitely female.
After I’d finished that scene, I picked a surprised Charlie up and carried her to the dressing room. I sat with her on my lap in front of the mirror.
“I have you naked, but don’t yet believe I’ve revealed the real you.”
“Have you discovered the real me?”
“Yes. May I?”
She took a deep breath and nodded her head. Then she watched as I slowly removed her wig. She was completely bald.
“I’m… a freak.”
“I have never seen such a beautiful head,” I said. “You are not a freak.”
“How did you know?”
“When I was redoing your eyebrows, I saw that your lashes are false. Then I finally saw a hint of the edge of the wig behind your ear. It is excellent quality. I wondered what was different about your appearance today from after the show last week. I realized it was a different, very similar wig.”
“I have several. When you have no hair, a wig is a major investment. I simply can’t wear the same one day after day.”
“You are truly beautiful. Let me get a damp cloth and wipe you off. Then we’ll powder your head so it doesn’t come off too shiny in the photograph.”
“You still want to take my photograph? With no hair?”
“My dear Charlie, your head is truly beautiful. How could I possibly reveal the real you if we had a wig in the way?”
I shifted so she sat on the chair and I stood to get a wash cloth and wash her scalp. The wig had left some impression on her delicate skin, so I got a bit of lotion and worked it into her scalp. Her eyes drifted closed as I massaged her head and a soft moan escaped her lips. I had a feeling not many men had spent time just appreciating this beautiful head. I kissed her head and then got the powder so it didn’t shine.
“You can’t imagine how naked I feel,” she said. “Having my breasts and vulva on display were nothing compared to having my head uncovered.”
“I don’t think I’ll leave you completely naked for this next shot. Now face me so I can fully appreciate your nudity while I dress your face a little.”
“What?”
She was incredibly beautiful, but I saw some of her discomfort in her eyes. I reached into my makeup kit for a bottle of star-shaped sparkles. I delicately applied them, one at a time, under her eyes and beside her nose. It took several minutes.
“Now,” I said as I turned her toward the mirror, “you are no longer naked. Your face and your whole personality sparkle.”
She smiled and I carried her back to the setting as she kissed my face. I pulled down a more neutral backdrop and brought up the light a bit so it was not so dark and mysterious. Then I gave her instructions—tilting her head, positioning her hands, changing her expressions. I held her, occasionally stroking her breasts or her butt. I gave her a fluffy strawberry pincushion and had her hold it beside her face. I reapplied her lipstick, sure that I had a good bit of it on my face where she kept kissing me at every opportunity.
And eventually, I loaded the 4x5 with color transparencies and took a beautiful portrait of the incredible woman.
I picked her up and carried her back to the dressing room as she continued to hold my face and kiss me repeatedly. I sat with her on the couch and kissed her earnestly while I fondled her breasts, but just as importantly stroked her head.
“They said you would reveal me,” she whispered, choking back some tears. “I so desperately wanted it and so terribly feared it. I knew you, like all the other men I’ve known, would be disgusted—would think I’m a freak. I have no hair. Not anyplace on my body. Feel.” She pulled my hand between her legs and I stroked up and down her glossy pussy lips. “I’ve never grown hair, even there. Or if I grew it, it fell out immediately. Girls made fun of me because I never grew pubic hair or hair beneath my arms. When boys found out I wore a wig, they made a game of pulling it off me in the school halls. No one ever saw the real me!”
“Show the real you to people now. They could not help but love you. Put aside the childish pranks. If it hadn’t been your hair, they would have found something else. They found something on everyone. The four-eyed nerd. The smelly kid who always needed a shower. The girl with big boobs. The boy whose hair stood on end. They found something on all of us. But we aren’t those children anymore. No one could possibly look at this beautiful head and not love you.”
I punctuated my words with more kisses on her head as my fingers seemed to be magnetically drawn to her clit.
When I finally got Charlie dressed again, she shoved her wig in her purse and walked proudly out the front door.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
