Chapter 6: Pushing at the Darkness

It wasn’t as easy as they made it sound. I was anxious to the brink of panic. I’d never been alone with any girl other than Annette, Morgan, and Kendra. And Mavis. I kept reminding myself that I had painted a series of Mavis that was now gracing the covers of paperback books and half of those sessions had been just Mavis and me. Annette and Morgan were my lovers. Kendra was my best friend. Mavis was Mavis. I still didn’t know what our relationship was ... would be. I liked Susan. She’d come to my defense freshman year when we encountered the bitch at school. We’d worked on a project that made both of us over $500 in Zen’s chatroom.

And I’d touched her. Intimately. We called it posing.

When Susan arrived, she was just as thrown by the fact that Morgan and Annette were gone. The girl who usually boldly entered the studio and stripped off all her clothes was suddenly shy and uncertain. I always liked Susan’s brassy attitude, but it softened with just the two of us. She looked around the room as if it was the first time she’d seen it. I didn’t really have time to set a scene before she got there. I had black sanded pastel paper on my easel. I was hoping that I’d capture whatever light and glow I saw in Susan against the black background. I wasn’t sure that I’d fill in any other details in black. Of course, when Susan saw the room and turned to look her question at me, there was nothing but black—no color at all.

“Where is everyone?”

“Shopping,” I said. “They thought we might enjoy being alone for a while.”

There was a sudden flare of brightness from Susan that was almost like a flashbulb going off. It left black balloons dancing before my eyes over the black on black surface of what I could see. Then it was gone.

We sat on stools, fully dressed, and talked for a few minutes to decide what kind of pose we’d like to do. I explained about what I saw and showed her a few of my more recent paintings, including the one I’d done of her from the memory of our last posing session. Then I showed her how it had developed to flashes of color.

“Is that why you’ve been wearing dark glasses for the past three months?” she asked. “I thought you were just putting on an artsy front.”

“They make it easier for me to just close my eyes and not see anything,” I said. “For a long time, I couldn’t bear to look at anyone.”

“What caused the change that now you can see color?”

“Mavis.”

“You’ve had a little thing for her ever since the first day she walked into our class when we were freshmen. She got you to see color?”

“It was in her eyes. It was a pretty intense experience.”

“What would you like to do with me?” she asked. There was another flash.

“I always like posing you with different drapes. We can move from setting to setting if something inspires us,” I said. She glanced over toward the daybed shoved against a wall. “Why don’t you get ready.”

“Okay.” She left the room. I heard the bathroom door close. Susan had always just stripped wherever she was. I just sat at the easel and waited. I’d talked to Susan more freely and easily than with anyone since the darkness began. I didn’t feel like I was risking my soul when I talked to her. She came out of the bathroom dressed in one of the robes we kept for models. I noticed she’d chosen the almost sheer silky one instead of the bulky terrycloth.

“Why don’t we start in a familiar place over by the window,” I suggested.

“Yeah. Um ... Would you mind snapping a picture of each pose for me like Annette did that last time? So I can see them later? It doesn’t really look like I’ll be able to show pictures of your sketches if they are all black like that.” She handed me her cell phone and I agreed. She walked over to the window and grabbed hold of one of the drapes. She wrapped it around herself and looked at me. She hadn’t removed the robe. It looked silly to me, even in black on black. I snapped a picture.

“Why don’t you reach your left hand up to take hold of the drape and wrap it around your wrist,” I suggested.

“Like this?” She got in a pretty good rendition of what I suggested. I snapped another picture. We worked like that for a few minutes. One good thing about having her left hand raised was that the robe slipped down her right shoulder. The lovely line of her neck was exposed and I moved closer to just get that part in the picture. After about five minutes of this, Susan unwrapped herself from the fabric and ran to me. She hugged herself to me with a shuddering sob.

“This isn’t working,” she said. “I’m just too uptight.”

“What would you like?” I asked.

“Would ... Maybe ... Could you blindfold me like the last time we worked? Maybe then I wouldn’t be so self-conscious,” she said.

“Sure,” I answered. “Except ... I think I left the blindfold in my dad’s car a couple months ago.”

“Why’d you have it there?”

“I was wearing it for several days to keep from seeing anything. I took it off when Dad gave me the shades on our way to school.” We looked at each other for a moment. “I have an idea.” I went over to the daybed and pulled off one of the long strips of fabric we’d used. It had a silky feel and was thin. I knew that she’d be able to see out of one layer, but I was getting inspired. I grabbed a pair of shears we used for cutting fabric and started at one end to cut a foot-wide strip from the tricot about six yards long. Susan looked on with interest.

“That’s a long blindfold,” she giggled.

“It’s all just drapery. Some of it will cover your eyes. Some of it will cover other parts. Maybe,” I said. She shuddered a little and I led her back to the window. She stood patiently while I found the center point of the strip and folded it several times. “Ready?” I asked from behind her. She nodded. I carefully positioned the fabric over her eyes and she helped adjust it so it was comfortable and held it in place while I struggled to get the long ends tied behind her head without snagging her hair. She stood patiently while I snapped another picture on her cell phone. Sometime today, I might actually paint.

“Now, my little Dolly,” I whispered from behind her left shoulder. “Maybe we can get some posing done.” She shuddered slightly.

“Yes, sir.”

I started out pulling the two loose ends forward around her waist and looping them together before pulling them between her legs and wrapping them around her ankles. This had the effect of parting the front of the robe below her waist, but the fabric kept her from being exposed.

“Are you ... looking at my pussy, sir?”

“You never really know, do you?” I asked. I snapped another photo. “Think what it will be like to see how exposed or covered you were when you look at the photos. That’s a good Dolly. Stand very still while I adjust this tie.”

I unwrapped the fabric and this time brought it up beneath her arms and over the top of her breasts to tie it. I let the ends dangle down in front of her and pulled her robe off her shoulders. The fabric, of course, held it closed above her breasts, but my breath across her bare shoulders raised a fine line of goosebumps and caused her nipples to press out against the silk fabric of her robe. Susan’s breath deepened. She might not know exactly what was exposed, but she could feel her body’s response. I was receiving irregular bursts of heat and light from her, but they all seemed to light her silhouette and not illuminate any particular part of her body. I snapped another picture, then leaned close to her right ear to whisper.

“May I touch you, my little Dolly?” She drew a long shuddering breath and was almost inaudible when she responded.

“Yes. Please. Touch me. Anywhere.”

I untied the drape and her robe fell farther open. It still didn’t quite expose her breasts, but there was generous cleavage. She was surprised and jumped just a little when I touched her face to lift her chin slightly. I pulled the ends of the fabric under her chin and tied a bow. I looked at the composition and decided to cross the tails of the fabric on her breasts and bring them behind her. I snapped a picture, but something was missing. I moved behind Susan and pulled her arms back toward me. This had the effect of opening the robe fully above the belt in front. I pulled it down off her arms. As the silk glided across her sensitive nipples, she whimpered softly.

I wasn’t done surprising her, though. I pulled one of the strips of fabric that hung from the curtain rod and wrapped her arms together behind her.

“Um ... Oh...” she said.

“What a good little Dolly,” I said. I pretended to adjust the fabric some more, just sliding it back and forth across her nipples. I was beginning to see some more prolonged flashes of color as I worked with the pose. But they didn’t focus on any one part of her body. It was almost like watching a pinball machine light up—a flash here and a flash there. Obviously, when I moved the fabric across her nipples, they lit up so brightly I could see them through the tricot.

I shifted some of my attention to the things I knew she enjoyed, based on having worked with her before. I swept my hands down her bare sides, pausing to measure her waist with my fingers. Wherever I touched her, a streak of glowing color followed my fingers. It disappeared as soon as I stopped touching her. I wondered how I was ever going to capture it on canvas.

I pulled another drape around her, looping it so it hung like a skirt from her waist with one side exposed all the way up to where it was tied.

“All covered up,” I whispered to her. This time I had moved in front of her and leaned in to her ear, allowing my chest to graze back and forth across her sensitive breast. “I think we can dispense with the robe now, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Please, undress me, sir.” She trembled as I reached beneath the drapery skirt I’d created and found the belt for the robe that held it closed at her waist. I pulled to see how far down on her hips I could move it and succeeded in getting the knot positioned right against her pubic mound. There I worked slowly and intentionally at getting the knot undone, holding the robe in position after it fell loose. Instead of letting it fall, I held it and moved it slowly down her legs until it puddled around her ankles. I felt a drip against the back of my hand and realized how turned on Susan had become. I moved back up the inside of her legs, brushing slightly against her wet pussy before I circled her hips and stroked back to the floor. I reminded myself to take another picture with her phone.

I turned my focus from her legs to her torso and reached around her to release her arms from their bondage. This pressed her tightly against me.

“Sir. It would be more comfortable if you removed your belt. If you don’t mind.” I certainly didn’t mind. Somewhere during this process I’d become uncomfortably hard and needed to adjust myself in my trousers. “And your shirt,” Susan whispered. Yes. That would be good. I pulled off my shirt. It was tempting to just strip completely, but we hadn’t reached that part of our relationship. Not yet.

“Now we are going to add to your pretty bowtie,” I said. I pulled the ends of the blindfold strip that I’d crossed over her breasts and behind her. The tips of her nipples came into view and flared against the blackness. I boldly cupped her breasts in my hands, pretending to rub away marks left by the fabric and by the bra I knew she never wore. “I think instead of hiding these, we should show them off. Maybe even frame them,” I said. I took the loose ends of the fabric and tied a large bow. I took her left hand and looped the bow over her wrist and slid it up her arm. I placed her hand against my chest so the loop wouldn’t fall off. Then I repeated the action with the right side. I slowly tightened the ends of the bow until her upper arms were pulled against the side of her breasts and the loops framed them. “So pretty,” I said. I bent to softly kiss each nipple. Susan had several gasping breaths and I could begin to smell her scent. As I looked at them, the sudden flare of light from her nipples slowly died down as her breathing returned to normal.

I passed the ends of the fabric behind her back and stepped around to tie another big floppy bow. This I passed over her wrists and slid up to her elbow where I tightened it behind her back. She began to push at the bindings a little and I ran my hands down her arms and around to caress her breasts in front.

“What a good Dolly,” I whispered in her ear. “She has such pretty new jewelry to be wrapped up in. She looks good enough to eat.” My hands continued down her torso until I encountered the edge of the fabric skirt I had draped. “And she smells delicious,” I added.

“Please,” she said as I moved to the front and took more pictures.

“Please what, my little Dolly?” I asked as I pulled the last of the tails around her waist and tied another bow. I slipped her wrists through this and tightened it until her hands were loosely bound in front of her. Her little tests of the bonds assured her that she could get free if she really wanted to, so she relaxed. She didn’t really want to be free.

“Please, eat me,” she whispered. Mmm. My cock twitched in my pants as I knelt in front of her. I stroked her legs beneath the fabric, front and back, outside and inside, feeling her heat building. I untied the fabric skirt and let it hang loosely about her hips. I quickly stood and snapped another picture as most of the drape slid to the floor. Her hands, tied in front of her, framed her slit instead of hiding it. I stepped up to her and placed a soft kiss on her lips then held her lightly to me. I was sure her bound hands could feel my hardness pressed against her.

“I will take care of you, my little Dolly. Be patient and I will take care of you.” She nodded and placed a little kiss on my chest. When I stepped beside her and scooped her up in my arms, hot spots flared and subsided all across her body. I quickly tried to remember each of them thinking these must be erogenous zones that tripped when she was excited.

I seated her on the daybed and knelt before her to untie her wrists, kissing each wrist just below her palm and watching the color burst through the blackness of my vision. I reached behind her to loosen the bow that held her elbows back and she pressed her chest against my face. Her nipples glowed to life as I kissed each of them. I kissed and lightly tongued the inside of her elbows as I loosened the bow across her breasts, freeing her arms. She moaned as I lingered over the sensitive flesh and I could see the tracery of stimulation from wrist to elbow to breast as if I were tracing the pathways of her nerves.

This was very different than my experience drawing and painting Kendra, Mavis, Annette, or Morgan. In my black on black world, each glowed consistently. Their faces were now always illuminated when I looked at them. Mavis’s eyes were sharpened in the glow. Annette’s heart was as obvious to me as her face. Kendra’s hands were luminous blue-green. And Morgan, my dear sister and lover, my le Fay glowed brightly from her sex nearly all the time.

Susan didn’t have a consistent glow. I was reminded of Morgan’s early readings of her aura when she modeled three years ago. Susan became aroused, but it wasn’t directed and specific. She was aroused by the circumstances, not by me. As a result, when the stimulation faded, so did her glow. I tested this further by planting small kisses either side of her navel, on the inside of her thighs, which she parted willingly, the back of her knee, the arch of her foot. And each time I triggered one of those hotspots, I triggered another increase in the flow emanating from her pussy. I went back to the long tails of the bow beneath her chin and began wrapping down her left arm, looping back to secure the fabric at her wrist. Being sure to kiss the spot just at the joint of her shoulder and again at her elbow and wrist, I stretched her arm out so I could wrap the end of the fabric to the bedpost. I repeated the process with her right arm so they were stretched out to either side as she sat on the edge of the bed. There I paused to snap a few pictures on her phone and watch as the hotspots flickered across her body like fireflies in the night.

I kissed her softly again and she opened her mouth, offering her tongue for me to taste. I didn’t press forward, but we sampled each other for several minutes. She whimpered slightly as she tested her bonds to see if she could reach me and embrace, but they would not move in that direction. She could rest her hands down on the bed, but not close her arms in front of her.