Over Exposure
16
Preview
“Izzy” by Hank Shiffman, ID335622797 licensed from Shutterstock.com.
I WAS CONCERNED about my afternoon appointment. The students had already shown they liked the show with Michael. I wasn’t sure how they’d respond to a female posing.
Fortunately, Adrienne had scheduled only two a day. With the time I took posing and getting the pictures, plus the time we spent answering questions with the students attending the shoot, two a day was the maximum I could do. My afternoon session was with an actress named Isabella Rivera. Beautiful black-haired Spanish girl with a trace of accent, but not so much that you’d identify where she was from. I knew because she told me.
“Isabella, are you here of your own free will, without being coerced by anyone?”
“Oh, yes. I met Adrienne and she showed me your portfolio. I want a picture like that.”
“I’ll let you explain that a little more as we get going. You’re aware that there are photography students who will be watching our session together? How do you feel about that?” I asked.
“I’m very nervous, Nate. I want the glamorous photo like I saw in your book, but I have never taken my clothes off in front of people before. Will that make me an exotic dancer?” she asked.
“Oh, no. I am not going to ask you to undress for the students. That is strictly between you and me. We aren’t here to entertain them. I will shield you from their eyes as much as possible. In posing you and getting your clothes off when necessary, I may touch you intimately. I will try not to be too intrusive, but I want to create a connection with you so that you think of the camera as your lover.”
“I will not have sex with you,” she said firmly. “I have a boyfriend.”
“I don’t have sex with models and never have sex in the studio,” I sighed. “I do not shoot pornography. But those touches might be what turns a snapshot into a work of art.”
“The pictures of these girls in your portfolio… You touched them all intimately?”
“Most of them.”
“Could you wash your hands first?”
I looked at her a little surprised and puzzled, then saw a gleam in her eye. She finally chuckled a little.
“For you, anything, my dear Isabella,” I said.
“If we are going to be intimate, you should probably call me Izzy.”
I did wash my hands.
We started with standard portraiture. Like with Michael, I tried to get a portrait that would be unique and not just look like a high school yearbook photo. Nothing against them. I’d taken hundreds. It felt like Hollywood needed something more.
I took a couple of shots and then moved her to the low stool. I draped the high stool with black cloth and set it in front of her, then had her fold her arms on it and lean forward.
“I don’t want you actually resting your chin on your arms,” I said. “We don’t want to squash any of your features. That’s good. Now let’s tilt your head a little.”
Through all my instructions, I touched her, adjusting her arms and head, then stroking the corner of her mouth with my finger to get her lips to turn up just a little. I took the picture and then went behind the privacy screen with her to look at what clothes she had brought. I asked her to change into an off-the-shoulder dress and returned to the set to look into the trunks Gary had packed for me.
I immediately saw the sense of how he’d packed the trunks. This one had a decidedly more feminine look to it. Not that I’d hesitate to use something from the other trunk in working with a woman, but the items in this trunk were more delicate and artistic. I pulled out a music box and looked at it. It had a little popup ballerina and played something from ‘Swan Lake.’ My sister Deb had one a lot like this.
When Izzy emerged, she looked delightful. But her bra straps were showing over her shoulders. I led her back behind the screen.
“Izzy, honey, we can’t have the bra straps up over your shoulders like that. We need to take it off.” I was behind her and already unclipping the bra. She sighed and shrugged out of the straps.
“My tetas will show.”
I stepped in front of her. Yes, her very dark nipples and areola showed through the white dress.
“They’re lovely,” I said. I gently lifted each breast and felt how firm it was. “No wobble or distraction. This will make it easier when the dress comes off for the bedroom scene, don’t you think?”
She caught her breath.
“I did say I wanted that. This is like an intermediary step, isn’t it? Just don’t make a big thing out of them.”
“No, they’re the perfect size as they are,” I chuckled.
She hugged me and started to giggle.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I led her to the setting and presented her with the music box. She was delighted. I positioned her and changed the lighting slightly, then got behind the camera. We went through half a dozen poses, and her ‘tetas’ weren’t really visible in any of them. I had my assistants roll the bed onto the setting and changed to a red backdrop. Then I draped bits of fabric from every available hook, pole, or rod. Dana, my second assistant, who was working primarily on lighting, cautioned me about getting fabric too close to the lights.
“Do you think we could position a light low behind the bed that shines up and illuminates the drapery from behind? Kind of makes it glow?” I asked her.
“Oh, yeah. That would be cool,” she answered.
She went to work as I made up the bed and had Elliot find me more pillows. I wanted the bed to look as much like a painting by Rubens or Renoir or Watteau as I could make it. My sister had educated me about those artists the previous summer when she was painting Julie and Kathleen. Drapes seemed to fall out of anyplace in some of their paintings. When I felt the scene was set, I got Izzy from behind the privacy screen and led her to the bed. She still had the music box in her hands.
“I took off my braguitas,” she whispered to me. “I hope you weren’t planning to do that yourself.”
I looked at her questioningly.
“My panties,” she explained.
Ah! So, she was planning on becoming fully nude for her Attic Allure scene. I knew now the direction the afternoon was going. The full skirt of her dress made the presence or absence of panties a moot point. I picked her up, to her surprise, and laid her gently on the bed in the position I wanted her.
“Picking you up keeps your clothes from being twisted around as you get in position on the bed,” I said. “We will get to your full nude, but it will take us a few shots. It might be one of the earlier pictures that becomes a work of art.”
“I have come to trust you, Nate. I know you are working for the perfect photograph. That is what I want.”
It took an hour of shooting and adjusting her position before I had her dress completely off. In that time, she’d become comfortable with the students seeing her body and with me touching her. I decided to try something different for me. I removed all the furniture, props and drapery and just pulled out the white drop. This would require some very careful lighting.
Izzy had a thick black bush of hair, but it had been shaped so it didn’t escape the region where it was supposed to be. I had her sit on the floor and lean back on her hands, carefully arranging her long hair so it flowed down to the floor. I lifted her legs at the knee so one foot was extended and the other pointed just under the first knee. I stroked her stomach as I whispered to her.
“Think passion, love. Throw your head back in ecstasy. This will show you as the incredibly sexy woman you are.”
The words were like magic.
“Miss Rivera,” one of the women in the class said, “how could you tolerate being assaulted by Mr. Hart? His hands were all over you!”
I cringed. Izzy had consented to answer some questions, but I wasn’t expecting to be accused of assault. I looked over to her and just held my hands up in surrender.
“Uh… I don’t think you understand,” Izzy said. “Nate and I talked before we ever started posing and nothing he did was outside our agreement.”
“But that’s so demeaning!”
“No, honey. It was not demeaning. I am a feminist, but I didn’t put aside being a woman to become one. What Nate told me was that I needed to look at the camera as if it was my lover. I couldn’t do that. It’s a thing. I had to look at Nate as if he were my lover. He made it possible and I know you will see the love in my eyes when you see the pictures.”
“But…”
“I think that question has been answered,” a faculty person I hadn’t met interrupted. “Other questions for Nate or Miss Rivera?”
Everyone was suddenly quiet and started packing up their notebooks. I turned to Izzy and she smashed herself against me and gave me a deep and intense kiss.
“I always like to kiss my lover,” she said. Then she grabbed her bag and departed.
That set the tempo for the next two days. I had two models on Tuesday and one on Wednesday before I had to leave for the preview Wednesday afternoon. As a last session, members of the classes that had watched could line up for a photo. I spent a few minutes commenting about each person and they were allowed to pick a prop from the trunks if they wanted one. I tried to quickly pose them in a way that would suit their prop. Then I popped a picture of them. I only used the Hasselblad for this as I didn’t want to waste a bunch of 4x5 film on students.
“Does it really help if you touch your models?” the girl who’d complained twice this week asked when it was her turn.
“It’s a matter of building a connection in a rather limited timeframe,” I said. “When we’re going for a work of art and not just a snapshot, the model and I need to be completely in sync. When I move, he or she needs to move with me.”
“And it’s not just because you like to feel girls up?”
“The pleasure of touching a woman—and a woman’s pleasure at being touched—is a side benefit,” I chuckled. “I won’t deny that I enjoy it.”
“You can touch me.”
I noticed the prop she’d chosen was an old western bullwhip. Telling.
“We aren’t really doing that kind of photo,” I said. “While I don’t doubt that the experience would be pleasurable for at least one of us, it isn’t necessary in this instance.”
“I’m not a lesbian feminist,” she justified herself, opening her shirt so it hung like an invitation to caress her boobs. She might not be a lesbian feminist, but she was definitely a bra-burner.
“It wouldn’t make a difference if you were,” I said, adjusting her shirt so one nipple peeked out. As long as she was offering them, I’d at least get a photo of one. “One of my girlfriends is a lesbian.”
“One of them? How does that work?”
“Other than making me a kind of honorary lesbian?” I laughed. I stepped back and focused the camera. “In the course of our relationship—which started with us sharing a girlfriend—she discovered that she likes girls. And me. And I love her to the end of the world.”
She pulled her shirt open fully and faced the camera. I took another picture.
“Show her my picture and see if she’d like you to bring me home with you. We could share.”
That ended my session. Adrienne had the rest of my camera equipment packed and we hustled out to the limo to get to the theater.
We were in plenty of time at the Gordon Theatre just off Wiltshire and Melrose, but there were already people lined up to get in.
“What is all this?” I asked. “I thought this was just a preview.”
“Oh, it is,” Adrienne said.
She pointed to the marquee that announced, “Sneak Preview: Over Exposure.” We went straight to the front of the line and Adrienne showed our passes. We were escorted right inside.
“It’s a test showing,” Adrienne continued. “We get in first, but the theatre will fill with actual paying customers who will get to see the director’s cut. They will also fill out a survey before the eight o’clock feature showing.”
We were shown into the auditorium where we saw nearly a hundred people already gathered. I hadn’t seen any of the production crew or actors since I got to LA. Fran squealed and ran to me for a hug and kiss. I shook hands with Bert, Reg, and Frank. We were seated just about center in the theater that must have seated close to a thousand people. The doors opened and film-goers flooded the theater.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Fran said as she clutched my arm on one side and I held Adrienne’s hand on the other side.
“Pretty overwhelming for a kid from Chicago,” I said. “Don’t mind me if I go to sleep. It’s been a long week already.”
“I’ll just poke you whenever I’m on screen so you’re awake for those parts,” she giggled.
There were previews of coming attractions, and a five-minute cartoon that featured a cat. No dialog, just stupid situations as the hapless cat tried unsuccessfully to catch a mouse. Then dramatic music played as the titles ran over a view of Tenbrook—Otter Falls in the movie—and the camera panned upward to the window of my studio. As the camera zoomed in to the window, it cross-faded to the studio set I’d taken pictures on during filming. One of the actresses I remembered was being photographed by Joe. As titles continued to run, we watched him stroke her cheek and unbutton her blouse, ending with her leaning back with her breasts exposed and the camera’s click.
Then we were into the ‘action.’ Only there wasn’t really much action for the next twenty minutes as Joe talked to his various photography clients and seduced another.
There were some exciting parts. The truck accident in Otter Falls was spectacular. It plowed into a tractor with a wagonload of hay, which burst into spectacular flames. We saw Joe out photographing the scene and then newspaper pictures of the bodies of the farmer and the truck driver lying on the road or draped over the wheel of the truck. I guess it was to show that Joe was a serious photographer who got the photos for the newspaper.
I’d been living on coffee all morning and two hours into the movie, I needed to pee. They’d just gotten to the point of the murder being committed. Damn, it was long. I excused myself down a row of crew and headed out to the bathroom.
I met Lyle in the restroom.
“Reg has a vision,” he sighed. “But damn, it’s long. The best part of the movie is me sleeping with Sally Jane. They’ll have to cut that to pass the censors. It wasn’t all that interesting anyway, and I slept with her!”
“You actually slept with Lorna?” I asked.
“Yeah. She has a thing about sleeping with all her co-stars. I was just one more notch on her bedpost. She really does up the juvie thing. Thinks every guy wants to sleep with a twelve-year-old. I’ll be just as happy when she gets her boobs done. If she lets her pubes grow, it will be almost like sleeping with an adult.”
“I suppose I should get back in for the big reveal,” I said. “They brought me all the way out here to see this.”
“Yeah. I’m out of here. Lost interest already. See you around, Nate.”
I went back into the theater and crawled over people to get to my seat. The whole last hour of the movie was pretty good. They brought in Clint McCullough to play the FBI agent who ultimately cracks the case, but local police, played by a couple of lesser known actors, stayed unconvinced, even after the case was closed. With the look Joe gives Jenny in the last scene, you just know he’s thinking about killing her, too.
Three hours and fifteen minutes.
Adrienne and I headed for our limo and dinner at the The Brown Derby. I guess after the sneak preview, the execs wanted to be where they could be seen celebrating. I saw actors and actresses I almost recognized. That is, they looked familiar, but I found out quickly that in Hollywood actors don’t look the same on the street when they aren’t in costume and makeup. I guess if I was a real devotee of any of them, or if I lived here, I’d learn to recognize them more quickly. The way it was, I’d look at an actor and think, He looks like that guy in Star Trek with the pointy ears. I didn’t remember the name, nor was I really sure if this was the same character.
What a thing living with that would be. Can you just imagine people going to a movie or watching a television show and seeing some master spy or something and saying, ‘Oh yeah. That’s the Star Trek guy.’
Bert, Frank, and Reg were already counting the money they’d be making from this movie. Some of the less senior people on the staff were wearing grim expressions. Geraldine, George, Chrystal, and Dave were all downing drinks. To get some courage or to make them numb. I didn’t know which.
“Well, what do you think, Nate?” Reg asked as we settled in for the famous Cobb salads.
“Um… I’m not really a movie critic,” I said. “The photo sequences seemed realistic enough.”
“Come on. Every person in that theater today is a critic. What are we going to hear?” Frank asked.
“Um… It needs an intermission or something. I had to get up just as he was committing the murder to use the restroom,” I said.
“And that’s a great scene!” Bert said. “You really captured it there, Reg.”
“What else, Nate?”
“I appreciate you really keeping the story off me. Anyone who knows me and sees the movie will immediately say, ‘That’s not Nate.’ I kind of wish it wasn’t set in Tenbrook, though. Makes the village look like a real—What’s that movie that’s synonymous with gossipy people sleeping with everyone?”
“Peyton Place?” Adrienne offered.
“Yeah. Anyway, it’s not very kind to Tenbrook and the town is filled with really good people. I wish it showed more of that.”
“Okay. That’s fair,” Reg said. “I could be convinced to add a scene of people just helping each other. We’ve got footage like that, don’t we, Geraldine?”
“Yes, Reg, but that would make the whole thing longer,” the script supervisor said.
“Hey, another fifteen minutes and we can cut it in two and make it a movie with a sequel,” Frank laughed. “Two for the price of one.”
And that was how dinner went. It was mostly the three top guys congratulating each other. I was glad to get home and fall into Adrienne’s bed. She gave me a really nice massage, but I fell asleep before I could make love to her.
I was always thankful when these corporate meetings began ‘first thing in the morning’ California time. First thing for these guys was usually around ten o’clock and that gave me time to make love to Adrienne and do a good thorough job of it.
Adrienne had a new suit for me in her closet and dressed me up for the meeting. When I looked in the mirror, I could almost believe that the clean-shaved face in the navy blue suit was a movie professional and not a kid from Illinois. Adrienne emerged from the bedroom looking sort of professional in a wool suit. If the skirt was a little shorter than might be found in most of corporate America, that was offset by the absence of a blouse under the neatly buttoned jacket that gapped open tantalizingly.
Lest anyone doubt our relationship, she wore her Fifi collar and the gold chain looped around her neck and dangling between her boobs.
“Are you intentionally dangling your sexuality in front of the producers?” I asked. I was joking, but Adrienne stiffened.
“I will change if you so desire,” she said. “And I will bring you a paddle if you wish to punish me.”
Hmm. I wondered if instead of dangling her sexuality in front of the producers, she was actually making an invitation for me to punish her. By her posture, I was guessing the latter.
“We don’t have time for any of that now. I won’t have you making me late for the meeting. If Frank or Reg maneuver for position so they can see inside your jacket, you will simply have to endure having them stare at your titties,” I said.
“Yes, master. I will endure. Whatever punishment you feel is needed, I will endure.”
We headed for the limo.
“Well, I can’t say the comment cards were encouraging,” George said. “We got some good comments about the cinematography and the realism of the scenes, but there were also a lot of ‘boring’ comments.”
“Okay. We’ll get to all those comments in a bit,” Frank said. “There’s just one we need to deal with off the bat. Adrienne, what does the boss say?”
Adrienne pulled a fax out of her purse. I’d heard it come in sometime in the middle of the night. I was vaguely aware of Adrienne getting out of bed to pick up the phone.
“He has just a few comments,” she said looking down at the fax. “1. Cut an hour. 2. Cut any scene that will get us an X rating—especially the underage titties. 3. Move the murder to the title sequence.”
She folded the fax and put it back in her purse, then looked up at the group at the table.
“That’s all?” Frank sighed.
“That’s all he put in the fax. I talked to him about one o’clock this morning,” Adrienne said. “He said Lombardi can keep this copy as a ‘director’s cut’ but can’t release it for five years. He said, ‘Tell Slocum he’s not F. Scott fucking Fitzgerald. Action, not words.’ And he said Loras had better want to make money from this project and not just think it’s an artistic success. He doesn’t say much. Those were his comments.”
“Okay,” Frank said. “We have marching orders. Now, let’s go through the comments and start figuring out where we cut and whether we need to take anything back into production or if it can all be done through editing. George.”
And that was how the post production meeting started. Pretty much all the comments were a reflection of what our sponsor had said. It was too long, it didn’t have enough action, and they were shocked at the sexual nudity of a minor.
Frank was very matter-of-fact about things. Reg looked disheartened. Bert just sat with his arms folded muttering “Fucking Fitzgerald.” The real work seemed to be done by Geraldine Norman—the script supervisor—George Ripley—the marketing guy—and the lead editor, Jules Ivar. This was the place where those guys took over from the director, writer, and producer. They were there to make the movie a success.
Occasionally, I was able to contribute something. Eventually, the meeting broke up and the three of them went into a screening room and worked, stopping and starting the film as they went over every scene.
Adrienne took me to a nice little pub for dinner after I requested something simple. Well, there were only half a dozen things on the menu. They were all sandwiches and Adrienne encouraged me to have the original French Dip. I also had a great coleslaw and spicy French fries. Of course, we had to wash all that down with a beer. I’d never really developed much of a taste for beer, but it was the perfect accompaniment for the sandwich and sides.
Then it was home.
As soon as we were inside, Adrienne started to kneel on the floor and I had her stand back up immediately.
“I just want to look you over carefully and examine what every man in the meeting today—and Geraldine—got to see. Not to mention all the men staring at you in the pub. You are truly a sexual being, Fifi.”
“Does Master wish to punish Fifi?”
“I haven’t decided whether to punish or reward you,” I said.
“Reward, Master? For what? I was naughty today.”
“Oh yes, my naughty pet. For that you should be punished. Probably with a dozen swats of the paddle. But, my Fifi…” I slid a hand inside her jacket and caressed the bare breast beneath. “…you were probably the only bright spot that poor Bert, Reg, and Frank had in their day today. Whenever they caught a glimpse of your luscious tit, it lifted their spirits a bit. Is that what you were going for, knowing what our sponsor would demand of them?”
“I dress only for you, Master. If you are pleased, I am happy.”
“I see.” I slid a hand up the back of her leg under her skirt and found exactly what I expected: Nothing but her bare butt. “Were you thinking I might need to bend you over the conference table and fuck you?”
“If you had desired so, you would have found your Fifi ready.”
“I am very nearly ready. Fetch your paddle.” She hurried to the bedroom. “Do not undress. I want to enjoy the little peeks you so liberally gave away today.”
She immediately brought the paddle to me and bowed her head. I considered the room and then led her back through the bedroom and outside to the balcony.
“It’s much better weather than the last time I had you out here,” I said. It was in the mid-fifties—certainly better than the near freezing temperatures of New Year’s Eve. “Did you know there is a bit of an echo here? It should be fun to hear how it echoes each smack on your bottom for being a naughty pet. And also how it echoes your enjoyment.”
I returned to kissing and fondling Adrienne and she responded enthusiastically when I pulled her skirt up so I could reach into her moist pussy. Then I turned her to face the railing and put her hands on it, instructing her not to move them. I pushed her forward so she was bent at the waist and raised her skirt above her beautiful ass. I nudged her feet farther apart so she was spread in front of me. Then I surprised her by licking her slit and playing with her clit for a bit with my tongue. When I thought she might be getting close, I stepped back and smacked her with the paddle high on her right cheek, then immediately on her left.
Fifi knew not to cry out in pain, but the smack of the paddle did echo on the little balcony, as did her gasp.
“Thank you, Master. Was that both one and two or just one?”
“That was two. You may count every stroke, no matter how rapidly they come together.”
“Thank you, Master. Two!”
I swung and she gasped out, “Three!”
Then I parted her cheeks and rimmed her asshole with my tongue, eliciting a whine. This was quickly followed by another smack.
I kept shifting back and forth between spanking her and licking her. By the time I reached ten, I had my cock out and inserted it smoothly into her pussy for a few strokes. Then I retreated and delivered number eleven. As she gasped out “Eleven!” I shoved my cock into her again, nudging her feet still farther apart. I had discovered in my association with Adrienne and with Sylvia that something I would find unthinkable for a male could be a source of intense pleasure for some females. I withdrew and carefully aimed my last stroke across her glistening wet pussy lips.
“Twelve!” she shouted, gasping as an orgasm washed over her. I didn’t hesitate, however. I placed the wet and well-lubricated head of my cock against her asshole and pushed. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Master!”
She was in a constant state of convulsions as she came and I plowed her behind. It was not long before I filled her rectum with my come.
I tossed the paddle into the bedroom and withdrew from her bottom, then picked her up in my arms and carried her to the bathroom. There I carefully undressed her and while she sat on the stool, letting my come drain out of her, I filled the tub with warm water and got undressed myself.
“Now my favorite, most wonderful, beautiful pet, let me bathe you and soothe your bruises and give you the reward I promised as well.”
“Was that not the reward and punishment together?” she asked as I helped her into the tub.
“Only the very first stage. Let your master care for you and pet you and groom you. I want to love on my pet.”
“Yes, Master. My most beloved Master. Your Fifi adores you.”
Friday started out peaceful enough. I got all the film from the week processed and the negatives were drying. I pulled down one strip at a time of 2x2 film and looked at the images on the light box. I didn’t think I’d be worrying about printing any of these today except the pictures of the class I took on Wednesday afternoon before the screening. I would print an 8x10 of each student who had come forward for a photo. There would also be pictures of the models I’d shot during the week. There were some pretty good shots for having spent so little time with each.
I would be printing the proofs of each of the 4x5s on contact sheets and Adrienne would take care of getting prints ordered from each of our clients. I didn’t have model releases for any of them but they’d all given permission to show the photos in the reception Friday night. Adrienne said a couple of them would actually stop by the gathering. I owned the negatives, but they were the only authorized buyers of prints. It wasn’t an unprofitable week, though. The production company considered the work at the academy to be part of their contribution to the education of the next generation of film artists, so they paid me my $1,000 per day consulting fee for every day I was in LA, even though I only actively worked on the film for two days.
Adrienne and I were ready to go into the darkroom when the feminist from class showed up. Now, Adrienne had asked my approval and I’d granted it for her to wear a short skirt, high heels, and a tube top. All easily accessible. We had in mind some sexy play in the darkroom. I was surprised to find the student dressed somewhat similarly, though I couldn’t verify an absence of underwear, and her shoes were more like army boots. I guess that’s a style out here these days.
“Hi. I was wondering if I could watch you printing in the darkroom,” she said. “Oh, I never really introduced myself. I’m Beverly Young.” She held out her hand and I shook it.
“I don’t object to you watching for a while, but it gets a little crowded in the darkroom with…”
“I don’t mind touching,” she broke in quickly. “I mean, I know we’re bound to bump into each other.”
“…three,” I mumbled to myself. There went Adrienne’s and my fun time in the darkroom. I was wearing just a black T-shirt and jeans since I wasn’t expecting to be interacting with anyone else.
“I know we got off on a wrong foot when I accused you of abusing models. I’m not just a radfem. I mean, yes, I belong to the WLF, but all we want is fair treatment and not to be constantly objectified. I didn’t mean to upset things on the first day of class.”
“Beverly, I’m just about to go into the darkroom. If you’d like to join us, please step inside.”
Adrienne followed her in and I closed the door behind us and turned on the red light. I think that was the first time Beverly realized it wasn’t just the two of us.
“Wait. Um… What are you doing in here?” she asked Adrienne.
“I would scarcely let my master enter danger without a witness,” Adrienne said.
“I’m not danger. Really. I mean, I thought when we were alone in here, there might be an opportunity to… um… get to know each other better, you know? But I… What do you mean your master?”
During this exchange, I calmly went about setting up Beverly’s photo for an 8x10 enlargement. I’d chosen the one with just one breast exposed and the bullwhip held under her chin. She looked quite ferocious. I basically ignored what was going on between Adrienne and Beverly.
“Does it bother you that I refer to Nate as my master?” Adrienne asked.
“You mean you’re his slave? That’s illegal!”
“We all choose our own bondage,” Adrienne continued. “Don’t you hold patriarchal marriage as being a form of slavery? I have taken Nate and his family as my masters. They care for me and keep me on the straight and narrow. Who knows what trouble I might get into if I didn’t have them to correct and punish me.”
“Punish?”
“And most importantly, my Mistress Anna charged me with protecting Nate from predators while he is in Los Angeles,” Adrienne concluded.
“I’m not a predator!”
“Didn’t you suggest this so you could seduce Nate and then claim he raped you?”
Adrienne picked that up? Wow!
“I… sort of. I thought he’d try something just because we were alone together. And then…”
“And then you would have evidence that he was the abuser you accused him of being on Monday.”
There was a standoff and I moved the print from the enlarger to the developer.
“I’m not a bad person,” Beverly justified herself. “And I kind of like Nate, in spite of myself. I think I was hoping he wouldn’t try anything and I’d been wrong about him and then I could like believe.”
“Believe what?”
“That there are good guys out there, even if they don’t look like it at first.”
“What makes a good guy?”
“He’s considerate. Doesn’t try to manipulate me into things I don’t want. Is kind and gentle. You know, doesn’t look down on me because I’m a woman like all the stupid men in my class do.”
“Ah, I see. All the things my master is to me. Did you know that even though he paddled my bare bottom last night because I was very naughty yesterday, he respects me and defers to me when we are meeting with the film crew? He asks my opinion on all kinds of matters and expects me to be knowledgeable, faithful, honest, and direct. He depends on me to help make him successful and, yes, to protect him. Will I do whatever he commands? I can only wish that he would command more,” Adrienne finished.
“And you came in here…”
“… to do whatever he wanted me to do.”
Adrienne punctuated her statement as I moved the picture to the stop bath by pulling off her top. Then she unzipped her skirt and dropped it to the floor so she was in only her heels. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her neck.
“I have nice breasts, too!” Beverly declared, stripping off her own top. I’d seen them Wednesday afternoon and they were nice.
“What is it you want, Beverly?” I asked. It was the first time I’d spoken since we closed the darkroom door.
“I just want to be recognized as a person of worth, capable and strong, and still sexy. I think I want what Adrienne has.”
“Me?”
“Not exactly. It kind of sounds like your plate is full. I’d just like to find a guy who will treat me well and respect that I’m a real person and not just a fuck toy.”
I moved her picture from the stop bath to the fixative. It was Adrienne who opened her arms and Beverly stepped into them.
“While we’re waiting for him to come along, we could show this guy how much he’s appreciated,” Adrienne said.
“You’ll um… share?”
“That’s part of my responsibility.”
I was unfortunately busy at the sink rinsing Beverly’s photo while she kissed Adrienne.
“I’m not a lesbian feminist either,” Beverly whispered. “But that was nice.”
“Let’s take a look at your photo and then see what else develops.”
I didn’t fuck Beverly. She did get a few orgasms, and was responsible for giving a couple as well. The only pussy I entered, though, was Adrienne’s. She took Beverly’s contact information and promised to be in touch. We wrapped up for the afternoon, but we still had to get the exhibit ready for the little reception that had been promised.
I got home in time for dinner Saturday, but there was no one there to meet me. My girlfriends and goddaughter had gone to Canada for the week and wouldn’t be back until Sunday afternoon. I intended to have the apartment all nice and clean for them with dinner waiting when they got home.
Not that it would be much of a problem if I got my clothes unpacked and my laundry done and put away. The apartment was unused since they left a week ago and we’d cleaned before we all scattered. I’d gotten my laundry done and was getting it put away when the phone rang.
“Nate, you remember we have an appointment tomorrow, right?”
“Um… Leanne?”
“Yes, Leanne.”
“What kind of appointment?”
“We’re having our first practice session with Shawna for our Chicago Performs class piece. We only have two weeks and next weekend is Easter. You haven’t done this paint before and haven’t worked with Shawna. We have to practice.”
“Okay. What time tomorrow?”
“Ten. You insisted because you had to be home for the family in the afternoon,” she said.
“Yes, I remember now. I’m just a little jetlagged or something. I just got in from LA.”
“Oh, good. I’ve been thinking about it this entire week we were on break. You know this is really the practice for Stratford, too,” she said. “Our other paintings have been with just us and the model in the studio. This is the first one where we’ll really have an audience.”
“You’re right. How are we going to show Damien and Kathleen what we’ve got going?”
“Leslie is going to shoot stills while we’re in progress, and Dora has an eight-millimeter movie camera. I guess it’s popular in the industry.”
“The movie industry? Everything I’ve been in touch with is 35mm.”
“Um… The home porn industry,” Leanne said. “Dora is pretty popular.”
“Damn! Okay.”
“The film won’t have sound, but we should have some music playing for the show.”
“I have a stereo in the studio.”
“Good. How many will we be able to seat?”
“If they’re all good with sitting on the floor, maybe twenty. If we need chairs for everyone, we’ll need to find chairs and probably only be able to squeeze twelve or thirteen in,” I said.
“We should talk to Dr. Morgan. There’s twenty in our class. It could get a little cramped.”
“We could do it in the studio theatre if we had to,” I said.
“Carrie’s had all she could do to master the photo lighting. We’d need an actual light tech from the theatre if we move over to campus. We should just talk to Dr. Morgan Monday and find out what she says.”
“Okay. I think we’re set for tomorrow then. Everyone will be there?”
“You’re the last one I had to confirm.”
“See you then.”
That settled the rest of my weekend and I was at the studio early to meet all my team members and let them in. The store wouldn’t open until noon, by which time, we should be nearly done with our rehearsal. I hoped.
There was a lot of hugging and welcome back and how was your break. Then we got down to work. Leslie and Carrie worked together on the lights. That was good. Carrie was inexperienced, but quick to learn at Leslie’s direction. Dora stood back with her movie camera and moved from side to side, anticipating what angles she’d want to shoot from, even moving around to the back so she’d be shooting toward the audience. It wouldn’t be a constant shot. A spool of Double 8 film only held three or four minutes of actual pictures. Dora would shoot a few seconds and then move to a new location to shoot more.
Once Shawna was full painted and posed, I’d start taking pictures, posing her in different ways. Unlike Leslie’s production photos, mine would be the art photos. Leslie was supposed to get as much of the six of us performing as she could.
It all depended on Leanne, Shawna, and me making painting Shawna look like a performance.
“I don’t have permission yet for full nudity,” Leanne said. “That’s on the list for tomorrow’s discussion with Dr. Morgan. She’s indicated a willingness to consider nudity if it is essential to the show and not pornographic.”
“We aren’t actually going to screw on stage, are we?” Shawna said. “I’m all for going down on you after we’re done, but not in front of everyone.”
“No, baby. Nate has a hard and fast rule about no sex in the studio,” Leanne said.
“Too bad. I like the hard and fast part of that rule,” Shawna giggled.
“Okay. We’re going to start off with you in the bra and panty set I bought you,” Leanne said.
“Clever way to get around the no nudity,” Shawna said. “You can see right through them.”
“I do my best,” Leanne laughed.
The critical part of our rehearsal was applying the paint to Shawna’s body. Mostly, we were dipping our fingers in the paint and drawing on her. Toni would love this. She was all for finger-painting. I liked it because I could actually put my hands on this beautiful woman and stroke all over her body. I had to keep referring to the sketches before I painted. We figured out the best way to turn Shawna as we worked so she wasn’t in full frontal nude before the audience until she’d been painted.
It was almost like dancing, and when the music I’d put on reached a strong point, I took Shawna’s hand and spun her in a circle then back to center with her back to the audience as Leanne stripped her panties off and I applied the paint to her shaved and bare pudenda.
Even with all the starting and stopping we did, we managed to get her fully painted in less than an hour. And she was spectacular. We all applauded her and Leslie took a few shots of her with Leanne and me, showing her front and back.
“It needs a little more dimensionality,” Dora said, stepping up to Shawna to examine her closely.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have a brush?” she asked. Leanne grabbed a brush from her kit and Dora dipped it in the paint. “If we add a bit of highlight with thicker paint on one edge of each segment, it will make it look like the white is carved out of her skin instead of applied on top.” She used the brush to add a more opaque line of white around the edges. The result was phenomenal. Even Shawna shivered a little.
“Girl, you do have a magic touch. How would you like me to lick your pussy tonight?” Shawna asked Dora.
“Um… I thought you knew. I don’t have a pussy,” Dora said. “Play for the other team.”
“Oh, that could be even better.”
I didn’t think that was going anyplace, but it was fun watching the interaction. And the results Dora got were spectacular.
“Who is going to wash all this paint off my ebony body?” Shawna asked as she fixed me with her eyes and approached.
“Uh… Don’t you have a girlfriend for that?” I asked.
“You know, I love that girl’s little Asian pussy, and she knows how to make me come. But I’ve been missing the ‘hard and fast’ part lately. We’ve got one more rehearsal and then our performance. After you paint me up and photograph me in front of all those people, I expect you to take me someplace private and very carefully remove every speck of that paint from my body before you give me that hard and fast stuff,” Shawna said. She didn’t try to kiss me. She just licked my face. “Yum.”
I kind of wished I had Adrienne to protect me from predators in Chicago.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
