F/Stop
7
Freedom
“Betty” by Asket_Style, ID1941843328, licensed from Shutterstock.com
I WAS FINDING my color photography class to be very interesting. Everyone in the family loved the slides of Toni in the toy store. Kat was interested because she was doing more oil painting now and didn’t feel the black and white photos were appropriate for her to build her portfolio from. I promised that I’d learn the color work and then take portfolio pictures of her artwork. She showed me her latest, sitting on an easel in her room. It wasn’t quite completed yet, but the person in her reclining nude portrait was definitely Julie Evans, Chris’s sister. And the bed was definitely my sister’s. Wow!
All Toni’s grandparents loved the slides and asked if they could have prints. I promised to figure out what had to be done to get prints. I knew I could just take them to Pro-Color and get prints made, but we were supposed to be learning that in my class. Professor Hyatt had introduced us to Cibachrome printing the previous week, but I wasn’t happy with my first try.
This week, we were going to discuss the weaknesses and would receive another assignment for practicing with color slides.
Leslie looked particularly happy when we walked over to the studio for our study session Tuesday. I was surprised when I got there to find Dora Devine instead of Devon. She was in full cross-dress mode and Leanne had been working on her makeup. She looked terrific. Carrie came in right after I did.
“I asked Dora if she would pose for us today, Nate. We have to have new color slides for our class and Dr. Nader said we should try portraits. It’s something you’re used to, but I haven’t had that much experience. I thought you could show me some things.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ve got an idea.” I motioned to Leanne to consult with her a little and after giggling, she nodded. “Carrie, this would all work better if Leslie and I worked side by side. We really shouldn’t turn in the same subject. Would you go with Leanne and let her do your makeup and dress you to be my model? Leslie has hers.”
“I’d what? Um… Well, I guess I’m not going to study anything else while you guys are doing this. Sure, I guess.”
Leanne hustled her behind the privacy screen and Leslie and I agreed on a decorative backdrop rather than a solid color. We set one that looked kind of museum-like and positioned two stools in front of it. Dora took her position on the left stool—as the camera looked at it—and we started setting lights. We needed nearly all the lights in the studio for our color photography. It would be interesting because Leslie and I would be shooting different subjects at different angles against the same background.
Carrie appeared with glamor makeup that compared to the way Dora was made up, and was in a very similarly cut dress—meaning that it had a plunging neckline to well below her boobs. She looked quite beautiful in a slightly trashy way.
Leanne helped fine-tune the lighting and we started alternating shots back and forth between Leslie and me.
“Now, Carrie, we have done portraits before. This one will show you in a new light,” I said.
“It sure will.”
“Sit straight and regal. That’s right. Butt just slightly forward on the stool. Tits up, as they say in Las Vegas. Be proud of them. Inhale.”
As I gave her instructions, of course, I directed her with my hands, pushing her butt forward a little and lifting her breasts. She was right with me and smiled big for the camera. Leslie then went to work on Dora, using mostly the same instructions. We progressed with new positions and lighting, even having full length standing portraits. For each shot, I handled Carrie in ways I knew she liked. Leslie copied each and every one.
“You’ve been so good at this,” I said to Carrie as we neared the end of our roll. “Let’s let your costume slip a bit, shall we?”
“For you, anything,” she breathed.
I slid my hand beneath her dress and caressed her breast as I slid the dress off that shoulder and down far enough that her boob was fully out. I played with and pinched her nipple as she sighed. Then I stood back and took the picture. I finished and picked Carrie up to take behind the privacy screen. First, we turned and looked at Leslie and Dora. Leslie did the exact same things I did, exposing Dora’s right breast. I wondered if Devon was taking some kind of hormones. His breast definitely looked puffier than when I’d taken his photo months ago.
Leslie took her photo and playfully kissed Dora’s nipple.
“Like that?” she asked.
“It was great,” Dora responded. “I just kept imagining you were Nate.”
I did make sure that Carrie had a nice orgasm before she dressed in her street clothes and left. I’m afraid Dora had to depend on the kindness of strangers, to quote Blanche.
When Saturday came around, none of my girlfriends wanted me to go alone to Sylvia’s house and they all wanted to go with me. I insisted it was fine and they insisted that I call Uncle Nate. Uncle Nate insisted that he would be my driver. He told me my girlfriends were right and even though she’d made a significant contribution to my art with the Linhof camera, she was still unpredictable. Uncle Nate wanted to make sure I had an ally nearby.
I compromised and Uncle Nate drove me.
I only took my Hasselblad and Nikon cameras with two tripods and five lenses. I also had two umbrella lights. It was too much work to carry the Linhof and its tripod. Handling the film when I was alone was just too difficult without an assistant. I was, however, shooting Ektachrome in the Nikon. Levi had told me he’d send it over to be processed when I took up a roll. It was a little cheaper and a little faster than the Kodachrome. My pictures of Carrie had already been sent in with the rest of our class work.
Uncle Nate and I found Sylvia’s new house in a remote community west of the city. I was glad I wasn’t alone because it was really out in the country in what was called Glen Ellyn. It was twenty-five or thirty miles west of us. Uncle Nate made me ride in the back of his Cadillac and he was dressed as just a driver. We had to pass a security gate in order to get to the house and when Uncle Nate announced us, we were waved through immediately.
At the house, we were met by a guy in a dark suit, not unlike Uncle Nate. He got out to talk to the guy then came back and opened my door. The two men carried my equipment and I straightened my tie before walking up to the open door. The girls had insisted that I go to her home looking professional in a jacket and tie. They’d also cropped my beard and evened up my hair before taking me to the shower and taking turns scrubbing me and washing my hair. I felt like I’d been to a spa and resolved to give each of my girls that experience as soon as I could.
What met me inside was a vision. I entered on a marble floor with three steps up to what looked like the main floor, beyond which were three more steps up to a very large open living room. To the right a staircase led up to a balcony that ran above the steps up to the living room. On the balcony stood Sylvia. She looked stunning in a green evening gown with a deeply plunging neckline. I believe she made exactly the impression she wanted to, but she wasn’t prepared to see my uncle enter behind me with her man, Gary.
“Good evening, Ms. Drummond,” I said. “This is my driver, Mr. Mayer. You may have seen him at some time in the past.”
She seemed to stiffen a bit but recovered quickly.
“Of course. Welcome. Gary, would you show Mr. Mayer where to take the equipment in the living room. The two of you can then retire to the kitchen. I don’t think we’ll do any photographs there,” she said. “Nate, it is a pleasure to welcome you to my new home. Well, new to me. It was built in 1915, but I’ve made sure it was completely updated and modernized. There were a few things that I had to have, you know.”
“I’m sure it is very comfortable, though rather isolated. Let me grab my Hasselblad before you come down. You have a lot of light on in the entry here and the chandelier lights you extremely well there on the balcony. I’d like to get the first picture of you right there.”
I was feeling a lot more comfortable now. I felt like any threat that might have been presented by Sylvia’s killer bodyguard had been neutralized by the presence of Uncle Nate. Maybe there had been no threat there and it had all been my imagination. Regardless, Sylvia waited on the balcony as I got my camera ready and focused on her. The light caught her hair and it seemed to sparkle a little.
“Now how about one as you come down the stairs here,” I suggested. I repositioned myself beneath the balcony and was focused when she reached the landing of the switchback stairs. She paused and smiled. I took the picture.
She descended the rest of the way and came to me for a hug and cheek kisses.
“I’m so glad you were able to do this,” Sylvia said. “I’ve been in this house for two months now and feel I need to mark it as my own, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry I was unable to help you last week. With college and relationships to balance with my studio work, I have to set some firm boundaries.”
“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of opportunity to test them,” she laughed. “I will say, I was much more ready for this last week, but I have a bottle of champagne on ice in my bedroom if I need to reinforce my courage. Maybe you’ll join me.”
“I’m not yet twenty-one, so I don’t really imbibe. As long as I know you want to do it and are not impaired, I’m fine with you having a drink.”
We headed into the living room. My lights were on the stands and extension cords ran to them. I looked around for the best places to pose my client and decided this was one for in front of the fire burning in the fireplace.
I knew from experience that Sylvia wanted—perhaps needed—a firm hand and I intended to give it to her. I fastened the camera to the tripod and guided Sylvia to exactly where I wanted her in front of the fire. Her legs were nicely silhouetted beneath her gown.
“You haven’t told me exactly what you want this evening,” I said as I took a shot and repositioned her. I guided her with my hands but didn’t touch anything really intimate. I stepped back behind the camera. I had a feeling we were just getting warmed up with these living room shots, but it was a beautiful room.
“Scandal,” she said. “Since my husband… died, I’ve been shunned by nearly everyone. This house is made for parties, but no one will come. So, I’ll create as big a scandal as I can and then invite the bottom of society to come and celebrate it. Perhaps you and your girlfriends will want to attend.”
“Nice to know I’m at the bottom of society,” I said. I handled her just a little more roughly as I pushed her to her knees in front of the fireplace. She caught her balance by grabbing hold of my slacks. I looked down at her, frowning. She quickly let go.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered.
“There! I want that look of contrition on your face. People need to know you have been a very bad girl when they see this photo.”
“Will you make sure they see it?” she asked.
“I can’t exactly give it to the newspaper to publish,” I said. “But you are a good-looking woman for your age. Oh, I know you aren’t so terribly old. It must have been a pain to be married to an old man like Ike. I’m glad to see you still have your bodyguard.”
“Oh, that isn’t Leon. Leon is in prison. It turned out he had become rather possessive of me and that was why he shot Ike. Please don’t think I planned my husband’s murder. Yes, he was older, but he kept me supplied with people to satisfy my fetishes. Unfortunately, Leon became too accustomed to satisfying himself with me and thought he owned me,” Sylvia said.
“I hope you don’t make the same mistake with Gary,” I said. “He lives here in the house, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. He has a suite on the second floor. He has never seen the inside of my bedroom. That is not to say I haven’t taken him to the dungeon. But he knows his place.”
To the dungeon? That made some sense. No wonder Sylvia wanted a home so far out in the country and away from everyone. But I was pretty sure she wouldn’t risk losing control of her subordinate again. Hmm. Subordinate. A lot like a submissive. I’d need to be watchful of Sylvia.
“We’ll get some more lurid shots in other areas,” I said, “but I want a little suggestion of it here in front of the fireplace. Let’s loosen this tie and pull your dress off the shoulder.” I matched actions to words and she simply stared at me.
“You’re touching me,” she said flatly. I waited for her verdict without doing more than getting behind the camera to take her picture. “I might need that drink in my room sooner than later.” I snapped the picture.
It was one thing for Sylvia to say she wanted scandalous pictures, but when I pulled her dress aside far enough to expose her left breast, she nearly hyperventilated. Still, she didn’t say a thing, but held very still in the position I put her in.
I took the picture and turned off the lights. I handed her the camera and carried one light and my camera case with me to the master bedroom. I looked around as she waited for me to take the camera and tripod from her.
“Go ahead and pour yourself a drink,” I said. “You are being a good girl and deserve a little reward.”
She poured herself a glass, hesitated, then filled the second glass next to it—perhaps hopeful that I’d imbibe. This was a delicate situation and I knew I didn’t dare lose control myself. It would be too easy for me to become the plaything and her the master.
I went to her closet and sorted through her clothes as she gasped.
“What are you doing?”
“Choosing what I want you in next,” I said. “We’re going to change to night wear for the series here.” I found a transparent nightgown and held it up to her. “I assume this is nightwear, isn’t it? It should nicely show your pretty round tits and your smooth shaved pussy. Is your pussy still shaved smooth?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, gulping the champagne.
“Well? Are you going to remove your dress or should I tear it off of you?”
“No… I… will. It’s an expensive gown. I’ll take it off for you. Please, if you would unzip the back?” she said turning away from me. I’d already pulled the zipper part way down to expose her boob in front of the fireplace. I unzipped it the rest of the way, all the way down past the curve of her butt. While I was there, I spent a few seconds squeezing and feeling her butt up.
I got her out of the dress and inspected her. She stood quietly while I just looked at her tits and pussy and ass. I petted her skin and then held the nightgown for her to slip into. It fell around her, hugging her curves, and showing all her bits right through the thin fabric.
“You are keeping yourself trim and fit,” I said approvingly. “Are you some kind of fitness expert?”
“I’m an instructor at the YWCA,” she said. “It’s a good way to stay… attractive.”
“Yes. I noticed during our first session together that in certain light, you look almost like a teen. Now, let’s get you onto the bed.” I threw back the covers, then picked her up and deposited her in the middle of the huge bed. My entire family could sleep comfortably in a bed this size. I’d have to look into it.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” she asked.
“In your bedroom? Oh, no. I couldn’t do that. Then you’d have to sell this place and move again. You’d have too many unforgettable memories associated with this one,” I said. “When you have a lover who is your lover and not just your photographer, then bring him to your bedroom to fuck. Bedrooms are for people who care, and I wouldn’t care.”
“Oh.”
I moved her around and moved in with the camera, taking pictures of her face against the pillows and then rolling her to her side. I carefully arranged the sheer fabric of her nightgown around her breasts so that just a hint of her nipples showed through. Then I walked into her bathroom.
Holy shit! The focal point was a kind of solarium with a huge round tub in it. Looked like it had whirlpool jets all around it. Long counters with sinks were on either side of the room, one with an entire makeup table built in. The toilet was through another door for complete privacy. The shower was some kind of environmental affair with shower heads sticking out all over. Again, you could have put my whole family in it and we’d have had room to do some serious fucking.
“It seems a shame not to do a few photos in here,” I said. “Come here.” Sylvia immediately jumped off the bed and joined me in the bathroom. “It takes too long to fill a tub, but I like this shower.”
“Can I keep my hair dry?”
“That’s up to you. You know how to work the controls for all these showerheads, don’t you? Can you set them so they miss your face and head?”
“Yes.”
She started to pull her nightgown off and I stopped her.
“Is this valuable or expensive?” I asked.
“Not particularly,” she said. “I’ve had it for years.”
“Good. Leave it on. Go ahead and step into the shower. I want to see this fabric get wet and hug your titties and pussy and ass. Do you understand?” I asked as I caressed her tits, ass, and ran a hand between her legs, pushing the fabric up into her pussy.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
She stepped into the shower and I blocked the door open so I wasn’t shooting through the glass. I nodded and she turned one of the faucets on. A jet of water shot out of the wall, and sprayed her chest. It looked like it was actually designed or set to have a shower without getting face or head wet. I shot frames as the fabric soaked and clung to her body. She turned, holding her hair out of the spray and the fabric clung to the perfect shape of her ass.
Then she got a glint in her eye and I stepped back in case she decided to turn on a spray that shot out the door. Instead, she changed the settings and the spray shut off. Then a pulsing stream shot out from a lower shower head, perfectly directed to hit her pussy. She leaned back against the opposite wall and started pulling her skirt up.
“Stop!” I commanded. “Turn it off.”
She quickly obeyed and stood facing me with that dripping gown clinging to every curve of her body.
“I thought you’d like seeing me get off under the water. Wouldn’t it make a good picture?”
“It will make a great picture, but with a couple of adjustments.”
I set the camera on the counter behind me and grabbed the neck of her gown. This fabric was a lot flimsier than the ribbed neck of a T-shirt. I pulled hard and it tore right down the front. I kept tearing until the opening was below her pussy. I spent a minute playing with her nipples and stroking her pussy. It was very slippery.
“You like getting off in your shower, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then go ahead. Now the water should hit directly. Hold the torn gown as if you’ve just torn it in your desperation to get the water pounding against your pussy. Go ahead, turn it on.”
The water came on and Sylvia returned to her position leaning back against the wall. She held the torn pieces aside so her breasts were exposed and her pussy was open to the direct pulsing stream of water. I noticed she was pinching her nipples, as well. I took the last frame and then reached into the shower and turned it off.
“Oh!” she cried. Her hand moved down to her pussy. I slapped it away.
“Don’t come,” I commanded.
She was panting. I set the camera aside and reached into the shower to pull the nightgown off her arms and push it down over her hips until it let loose and dropped to the shower floor. I grabbed an extremely large towel from the rack next to the shower and called her to me.
“Now, let’s get you dry and all ready for the next scene.” I gently dried her, caressing her breasts and running my fingers up between her legs to feel her hot pussy and her asshole. “We’ll get around to how you look when you are helplessly coming and can’t stop,” I said. “Where to for the next scene? Upstairs?”
“No. There is nothing up there. Gary’s rooms are on the far side over the kitchen. There’s a stair over on that side so he can go up and down without coming through the main living area.”
“How nice for him.”
She ignored my dig.
“I think the dungeon is next. There is a stairway down from my sitting room in there.”
She pointed on past the shower and I could see another room. Her master bedroom suite was pretty much as big as my apartment. She led me through to the stairs. She paused to put on a pair of spike high heels. She turned on a light and led me downstairs.
“High heels,” I said. “Very nice.”
I didn’t bother grabbing the lights. I had the Hasselblad on its tripod and a pocketful of film. The Nikon was under my arm.
The first room we entered was just storage and the furnace and laundry room were there. Then she opened a door and we entered a macabre room filled with rings and a big X frame and various padded benches. I set the camera and tripod down and turned toward her as she threw the deadbolt on the door.
“Locking us in or others out?” I asked.
“I don’t want to be interrupted when I’m beating you,” she said.
She spun and kicked at me with one of those high heel spikes as I instinctively jumped back. So that was her game.
Step 1: Assess. I could see a dozen places she could trap me, but if she could trap me, I could trap her. She was planning to make me the victim. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I ducked her first kick and moved in fast to wrap my arms around her and pin her arms to her sides as I lifted her off the floor.
Step 2: Subdue. I saw the steps laid out in front of me as clearly as Adrienne had given them to me. It was not going to be a gentle seduction this time. In fact, I was afraid I was actually going to have to fight her. It was anathema to me to fight at all, but she was obviously trained. I should have asked her what she taught at the YWCA.
I saw a table with handcuffs and ropes on it. With her hands pinned to her sides, and her feet off the floor to avoid having those heels stomp into my foot, I rushed toward the wall next to the table and slammed into it. Well, into her. She was between me and the wall. It completely knocked the breath out of her and dazed her just a little.
I pulled her hands behind her and held them with one hand while I grabbed the handcuffs with the other. They were open and ready, so I clamped them onto her wrists.
“I told you once before that I can’t take pictures if I’m tied up,” I growled. “I hope you have a key for these down here. I’d rather see you in ropes.”
“You bastard!” she yelled at me. “You hurt my head on the wall!”
I wasn’t too worried now because she’d locked the door. If the two men in the kitchen upstairs heard anything, they couldn’t get into the room without breaking the door down.
“You thought you could bring me down here and beat me?” I said. “Your head is only the first thing I’m going to hurt. When I’m done, you won’t want to sit down for a week.”
She kicked back at me and once again tried to stomp on my foot with her high heels. I grabbed a length of rope from the table and dragged her a few feet farther where a padded table, just a little larger than a bench, waited for me to shove her down on it, face first.
Step 3: Restrain. For now, it was necessary for me to act quickly and refine my measures later. I looped the rope around her ankles and pulled it tight. She was still kicking at me and cursing me, even with both feet tied together and her wrists in handcuffs. I passed the rope around the cuffs and pulled it back hard, forcing her legs to bend at the knees and reach almost to her hands. I gave them another loop around her ankles and tied the rope off.
“Now what on earth made you think you should try to tie me up and beat me?” I asked casually as I took a minute to just run my hands over her body and squeeze anything I came to.
“You dared defy me when I demanded you come here last week. I am your patron. You do what I tell you to. You won’t last without my support. Now get the key from the table over there and unlock my wrists. This hurts.”
Step 4: Silence. I went to the table and found a ball gag.
“You talk too much,” I said.
I shoved the ball into her mouth and fastened it behind her head. She immediately started protesting and trying to shake the ball loose so she could complain. I swatted her butt with my hand and heard her gasp beneath the gag.
“Let me tell you, now, how being a patron works. You decide you want to support my art, so you provide important things for me to continue creating. Things like a camera or money or a studio or supplies. Occasionally, you might send me some work or make a contact with a gallery you’re on good terms with. If you’d like to have pictures of a special model, you’ll send her to me and I’ll make sure you receive a couple of the best pictures. The same goes if you want pictures of yourself. When I can fit you in my schedule, I’ll do my best to fulfill your needs. But you never! Never! Ever! Order me around!”
I smacked her butt with each of those last words. I was going to need to release her ankles from her hands in order to get clear access to beating her butt. First, though, I needed to take a few pictures. I snapped a few with the Nikon and then worked different positions with the Hasselblad. I rolled her to her side and pinched her nipples a bit harder than if I were being playful. I took pictures as she glared at me.
“Oh, you like that? I’ll bet I can find nipple clamps in your toy chest here,” I said. I looked around at the various tables around the room and found a bag of spring clip clothespins. Perfect. I grabbed a couple and clipped them to her nipples. She gasped and whined.
Steps 5, 6, and 7: Decorate, Torture and Tease, and Satisfy, in any order. I reached between her legs, and felt around her pussy. I had to pry her knees apart to get access, but when I got my fingers into her slit, I discovered she was lubricating quite nicely. I rubbed her clit a little and then stopped before she could come.
With her lying hogtied on the table, I took a minute to just continue my survey of the room. There were different benches, most padded, stocks, an X-frame against one wall with various hooks for tying or chaining a person, eye-bolts at different places in the walls and ceiling, and a large selection of paddles and whips.
“I need to make your ropes pretty,” I said casually. “Your feet are dangerous, so I’m going to start by neutralizing them. I think we’ll use this red rope. You know, if you were really into being tortured, you’d have hemp rope instead of these silky ropes.”
With her in the position she was in, I could tie her legs so that her foot was held against her butt. That effectively kept her from kicking and when I had both legs tied, I could untie her ankles from each other and from her hands.
I used blue rope to tie her arms together behind her back, then found the key to the handcuffs and took them off. I rolled her upright so she was sitting on her heels and took some more photos, getting color slides with the strobe as well as 2x2 black and whites. I spread her legs and dipped into her pussy, again rubbing her clit until she was almost ready to come and then leaving it.
I did a strictly decorative rope wrap on her torso, running the ropes across her breasts. When they were sufficiently tight, I unclipped the clothespins, which made her gasp. I spent a few minutes rubbing her nipples while I told her what a wanton tramp she was. She nodded.
Then I pushed her forward so her face was against the table with her knees under her boobs. I picked up a riding crop and laid a stripe across her butt.
“You will never call me to demand services again!” I yelled at her. “You will never think you own me. You will never be more to me than a slut who needs to be punished. You will never call me again!” Each time I said something, I laid another stripe across her ass. She was screaming into her gag when I snapped one blow straight across her pussy lips.
That did it for her. Her ass and pussy were fluttering open and closed as she climaxed. I shoved my fingers into her pussy and felt it clamping as she continued to come, so I pulled them out and shoved one, then two, then three fingers into her ass. She actually started squirting, she was coming so hard. I pulled her upright again and then laid her back on the table. I used my fingers in her pussy and bit her nipples as she continued to come non-stop.
“Do you want me to fuck you, whore?” I demanded.
She nodded her head and spread her legs as far apart as she could get them. I walked around her taking more pictures and used a flat leather strap to snap across her breasts. She was still coming. I leaned in close to her face.
“I can’t do that. I like to be kissed when I’m fucking and I can’t trust your mouth. I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll put you back on your knees and lube your asshole up. Then I’ll gather my equipment and leave. I’ll tell Gary you are ready for him to use you. And I’ll go home.”
She stiffened and looked panicked.
“You haven’t let him fuck you yet, have you,” I said. “Well, this is your chance and there’s nothing you can do about it. Except I’m not actually cruel. I’ll give you one chance, Sylvia Drummond. You can nod either yes or no. If it’s no, I’ll only humiliate you. There are a bunch of objects over on that table. I could stick one in your ass and it would stay there until Gary unties you. If you nod ‘yes,’ I’ll tell Gary your ass is waiting for his cock. He’ll come down here and see you with your ass in the air and just start fucking it. I’m sure, eventually, he’ll untie you. Now, which will it be, Sylvia? Yes or no?”
It looked like she was spastic as she fought to control which direction her head was going. Finally, she nodded, ‘Yes.’ I thought so.
I got her back on her knees with her face against the table and spent some more time finger fucking her until she’d come again hard. I took a couple pictures of her open ass and pussy, then made sure I had one showing her face in this lewd position.
I gathered up my equipment and went back up the stairs to her bedroom, leaving the door unlocked.
I went back through the house, gathering lights and cords and cases.
“Mr. Mayer, it’s time to leave,” I said. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was ten o’clock. Uncle Nate came out and grabbed a couple of the bags. Gary helped us carry them to the car.
“Where’s Miss Drummond?” Gary asked.
“She’s waiting for you downstairs in the playroom.” I saw Gary’s face drop. It was apparent that he knew the kind of torture that would await him in the dungeon. “She said she’d been very mean to you and couldn’t bring herself to give you the satisfaction you craved. So, she had me put her in a position and get her ready so that you could satisfy yourself before you set her free. Go on down. The door’s unlocked, and she’s waiting for you.”
Gary licked his lips and then turned to hurry to his mistress.
“Did you ever get any pictures?” Uncle Nate asked as we drove away from the mansion. I sat in front this time.
“Yeah. Actually, I got some interesting shots. I’ll bundle all the prints up and send them to her. I don’t think I actually want to keep any of them.”
We drove the rest of the way home in silence.
Anna and I went to the studio Sunday and I processed the film and printed 8x10s of every frame. She looked through them and helped dry the prints so we could ship them out. I’d only taken four rolls on the Hasselblad, so it wasn’t that big a deal to print the 48 frames. I wasn’t doing any special processing.
“Aren’t you keeping any of them?” Anna asked. “This one is pretty good. I love the fire playing behind her.”
“No. I really don’t want anything more to do with her. I mean, even if she came here to the studio for a sitting, I couldn’t trust her. She acted all repentant and contrite and submissive until we got to her playroom dungeon. Then she was viciously attacking me and determined to tie me up and beat me for not having responded to her last week. She’s a spoiled brat and I don’t want anything to do with her.”
“What about the slides?”
“I’ll hand them off to Levi to get them processed and mounted, then I’ll send those to her, too.”
I told Anna the whole story of exactly what I did and what Sylvia attempted.
“When you think back to your first time working all night with her, how was that different?”
“I really had no idea what I was doing. She basically had to give me instructions for every step of the way. I did it. She got turned on enough, I suppose, but it was pretty boring to me. I mean, Adrienne gave me instructions, too, but it was really fun and sexy. Very different.”
“I think you gave her exactly what she wanted,” Anna said. She was staring at the picture of whip marks across Sylvia’s ass. “The only way she could get you to really take control was to threaten and attack you. If she’s trained in self-defense, the way you say she is, and wanted to defend herself, I don’t think you’d have had as easy a time subduing her. I took a course at the college last spring in self-defense, and I’d have put up a much bigger fight than she did.”
“So, you’re saying she wanted me to beat her and abuse her?” I asked. I could see the possibility.
“I’ll bet her husband gave her exactly that and getting him killed was not part of her plan. I’ll bet she was hoping for a jealousy-filled rage in her little dungeon so he’d punish her. Having the bodyguard intervene was not what she was counting on.”
“You might be right, but I still consider her dangerous. I would never be able to trust her or to believe anything she said. You know, I left her tied up and told her new bodyguard she was waiting to be fucked. I wonder how that went.”
“I’d bet she continued to get exactly what she wanted long after you left,” Anna laughed.
I told my study group about the BDSM shoot when we met on Tuesday. I hadn’t sent the photos off yet, so I showed them. They were really surprised and kind of shocked.
“You beat her?” Leslie asked. I just nodded.
“And she liked it?” Carrie said. It was almost a statement instead of a question. I nodded again.
“I’m not surprised,” Leanne said. “I remember her from last spring, right after I’d started working with you. She even grabbed me for a few seconds when we were working on makeup and asked what she had to do to get you to tie her up. She’s definitely kinky.”
“Um… What did you tell her?” Devon asked.
“I told her all she had to do was ask and Nate would try to stage the kind of photos she wanted.”
“Thanks for that,” I said.
“By the way, I’m coming over to work with you Thursday afternoon. I’ve met Betty Daniels before and she’s incredibly shy. I can’t believe she’s coming in,” Leanne said.
“She’s one of ours,” Leslie said. “Frankly, I’m surprised she managed the courage to make an appointment, too. But she’s really sweet. Don’t expect her to tell you exactly what she wants, though. I don’t think she could answer a direct question if you asked her what her name is.”
That would be interesting.
Betty was shy. And she wasn’t real skinny, like so many models I’d had lately. She wore a nice skirt and blouse, and Leanne took immediate charge of fixing her makeup and hair for her while I set up the studio. The release she’d handed me was complete, but it was a little wrinkled, like she’d started to wad it up. It was smoothed out and there were sweat stains on it.
This was a very nervous model.
“I want you to know that no matter what you’ve heard from your friends in the Corps, you don’t have anything to worry about here,” I said as I led her to the stool and guided her position gently. “I’m not a sex-crazed maniac and I won’t do anything that you don’t give me permission to do. You’re very pretty and I just want to be sure you’re here of your own free will. No one’s making you do this, are they?”
She shook her head and I was reminded of my friend Libby back in high school. Libby never let her face be seen by anyone until that afternoon when she looked up at me while giving me a blowjob. That whole day had been one surprise after another.
Betty’s hair was pretty straight and shoulder length—dark brown and unremarkable. She had bangs and I wondered if she’d been one of the girls in high school who wore bangs and a low beehive hairdo.
“Now our first picture is a portrait that you can send home to your parents or give to a boyfriend if you want,” I said softly. “I want you to look over at the gallery and forget I’m here taking pictures. Okay?”
She nodded. At least she was communicating.
“Now, Betty, I want you to come over to the gallery with me. You’ve been looking at it. What do you see that you like? You can just point at any picture you want.”
I was surprised when she went straight to the first Attic Allure portrait I took of Lori with her looking down at her boob against a black background. She continued through the gallery and I noted that she had a strong preference for dark and brooding photos and for girls with slightly bustier appearances. She even stopped and pointed at Leanne’s picture.
“Okay. Let’s find a little prop for you. Leanne tells me you’re a poet. Is that right?”
“Yes,” she whispered. It was the first word I’d heard from her.
We walked into the props area and I kept an arm gently around her as I guided her down the rows of strange things, telling her to feel free to select something. She stopped suddenly and reached out to stroke a book with a heavily embossed cover.
“That’s beautiful. Can you just imagine someone in a hundred years picking up a book like that and settling in to read the collected poems of Betty Daniels? I can just imagine it.”
“It’s a photo album,” she laughed opening it up. We were definitely getting somewhere.
“Is it usable?” I asked. She nodded.
I decided on the couch for the set. Leanne already had the black backdrop ready and we moved the couch on it, then draped it in black.
“Let’s set up here, Betty. Get in a favorite reading position. Let’s… Do you mind if I unbutton your blouse a bit. You’re really quite lovely.”
She was still as I unbuttoned her blouse and when I left it at about half buttoned, she finished unbuttoning it herself. She had a very thin lace bra on and I could clearly see rather large areola under it with hard nubs protruding.
“I’ll bet you write romantic poetry. I can almost hear your voice reading aloud,” I said.
“I saw you through my window on a cold and lonely night.
You walked along, not knowing I had seen your hurried flight.
Your image spoke to me, in volumes of whispered words
That touched my heart with feelings I dealt with afterwards.”
She held the book as if she were reading, but it was obvious she was quoting her poetry—or perhaps she was making it up as she spoke. I took pictures of her. She settled back on the couch, a dreamy look coming across her face. I signaled Leanne to prepare the Linhof and perched at the edge of the couch to talk to her.
“May I take your bra?” I asked, letting my hands rest on her shoulders. She caught her breath and nodded. I reached around her and unfastened the bra as she lifted to give me access.
“No face,” she whispered. “Please?”
“Okay. Leanne, adjust the light from the right so it misses Betty’s face and casts it in shadow.”
I helped Betty slide down a bit so she was lying down and then removed her skirt as well. Then I turned her head away from me and smoothed her hair out over her face. She breathed heavily, her breasts rising to meet my lips as I placed a soft kiss on each nipple. The book plopped down on her stomach as she sighed and kept reciting her poem.
“I sit beside my window now, watching to see you appear,
And knowing beyond all shadow of doubt, you are no longer near.”
It was beautiful. I took a picture and Leanne made a slight adjustment to the light. I took the second 4x5 portrait and knew we were done.
I carried Betty behind the privacy screen and sat with her on my lap. She put her arms around my neck and I bent to her lips to kiss her. My hand automatically strayed to her chest and caressed her abundant boobs. She sighed and finished.
“But sitting by the fire in the dark at my day’s end,
I glance at yon chair, and say, ‘I love you, my dear friend.’”
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
