Chapter 9 - The Jismissary

“It’s not as easy as I thought it was going to be,” Lia complained as we sat on the sofa in my place, an evening meal happily consumed, a glass of neat spiced gin in hand, and my laptop on the coffee table, wired into my television, and showing the cause of Lia’s frustration.

Boudoirs.

Or rather a curious lack of boudoirs.

“Jim I thought that boudoir photographs meant boudoirs, but they don’t!” Lia complained. “Do you know what a boudoir is? If you do please tell me, because I’ve spent all afternoon looking at photos and websites and I can’t find shit that’s the genuine thing. Victorian? Edwardian? Do you know what is a boudoir? I’ll tell you. It’s some kind of old embroidery drape in the background, and some girl in the foreground who may or may not be showing tits, fanny, or any combination of the three. Two. Whatever. And what’s worse–”

“Would be forgetting to breathe,” I ‘hinted’ as Lia geared up for what was looking like a long, impressive, and well-researched rant.

“Breathe? Oh. Yeah. Breathe, haha,” Lia said as she made a point of breathing in, breathing her chest out, and shrugging at how her tiddies were not that substantial even when fully inflated. “But it’s true,” she said, her tone calmer now. “I’ve gone through my old photos I saved when I was getting into posing, I’ve looked at Sid’s French postcards, I’ve Googled so far I even went to the fifth page of results, you know, the place where the super freaky shit lives, and nothing. All I can find is that a boudoir was either a bedroom with a fuck-tonne of plasterwork everywhere you looked, usually gilded, or just a photographer’s studio circa God knows how long ago.”

“So no ideas how to decorate my spare bedroom?”

Lia shook her head. “I don’t suppose you’ve got some exotic embroidery about the size of a fucking wall tucked in the loft?”

“Sorry, no.”

“At least there’s one piece of good news. Pop’s organised a chaise and it’s coming tomorrow.”

“He ordered a chaise?” I asked, impressed at the speed he had achieved this. We’d only been back from our long weekend a couple of days, and he’d not only sourced the furniture - surely with Lia’s assistance and agreement - but also arranged swift delivery. A man of many talents.

Lia nodded. “Said it’s very tasteful, and also easy to clean. I don’t know why he said it was easy to clean. Do you know why he might say it was easy to clean?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

“Maybe he thinks you’re getting into sploshing or covering yourself in whipped cream or something?” I suggested, not wishing to follow the chain of thought of how Remy may have taken his new-found knowledge Lia’s moistness by the end of a catgirl shoot and conjectured the same was probably true of normal shoots, too. He was right, but it did suggest Remy spent a lot of time thinking about the ways in which his daughter’s fanny got wet. I guess everyone needs a hobby.

“Sploshing?” Lia chuckled. “What’s that?”

“You don’t know?” I asked, Lia shaking her head so I explained. “You lie there, I stand over you, pouring something liquid over you, then shoot you. Treacle, honey, custard that’s so white...”

“It looks like cum? You’re going to pour fake cum over me then take photos?”

“I wasn’t going to, no. I was explaining what sploshing is.”

“Got it. Still a nope. Also I’d love to hear how you know so much about sploshing some time,” she smiled. “I don’t mind a bit of mud when I’m a catgirl, but whipped cream or stand-in cum or whatever? No thanks.”

“Got it,” I said, unsurprised, Lia’s ‘no porn’ and ‘no hardcore’ surely ruling fake cum as much too much for her to ever agree to. “As for Remy ordering a wipeable chaise? Since you confessed to your father how, at the end of a catgirl shoot, said catgirl needs some ‘attention’, maybe he was imagining that after lounging around in your boudoir and having your photos taken ‘French style’, you might also require a little ‘attention’ then, too?”

“You think?”

“Do I think your father thinks this, or do I think you might need–”

“Boning? Damn right I’ll want boning. After I’ve writhed around for an hour or two, thinking sexy thoughts, making sexy poses, pouting sexy expressions, and having sexy photos taken? Jim, I’ll probably slip off the fucking chaise.”

“And if you do I shall be sure to capture the moment for your BTS collection.”

Lia laughed. “You better or you don’t get to finish the shoot by boning me over the end of the chaise.”

“Over the end? Any particular reason?”

“Curiosity. I don’t really go for you taking me from behind, but I kinda want to try bending over leather as you bone me silly.”

“Leather fetish?”

Lia shrugged. “Not that I know of, but maybe a nose full of warm leather as you’re pumping me full of cum might trigger something?”

“Well that’s certainly something to consider, but can I shift gears a little and make a suggestion?” I asked.

“Is it about boning me?”

“Not directly, no. Actually, not at all, or if it is, only very tangential.”

“Tangential boning? Don’t think I’ve ever had one of those. Is that where you slip it in sideways?”

“I really can’t imagine,” I said as I tried. And failed. Sideways?

“Same. Maybe we could try some things later? Later. Anyway, what’s your non-boning boning suggestion?”

“You were talking about embroidered drapes, and I just thought, would curtains do the job.”

“Curtains... ?” Lia asked, baffled where this was going.

“Curtains. You said a lot of boudoir photos used backdrops? What if we ran a pole along the long wall, then you can swap different backdrops whenever you want, lots of options.”

Lia looked thoughtful for a moment, and a moment later her fact lit up. “Jim, you’re a fucking genius! Curtains! I love it! That’s perfect! We can swap them out, maybe even load several sets at a time so we don’t need to pause mid-shoot, just swish out the old and swish in the new. Genius! Also, that’s now definitely enough work for tonight. Come on, drink up,” she said, the last of her gin gone in one swallow.

“You want to go measure the wall now?” I asked, thinking an online order was incoming.

Lia shook her head. “Nope. You’ve solved my problem, and now I want to solve yours.”

“My problem?”

“Yep. Your cum isn’t inside my fanny, and we need to fix that PDQ, got it?”

I did, she did, and though she’d said ‘PDQ’ it ended up being slow as we took our time, and it was all the better for that. And no, we never did bother with ‘sideways’.

One of the many wonderful qualities Lia has is that once she makes a decision, she commits. I sometimes wondered if that’s what happened between her and Remy. At some point she decided it was going to happen, and after that it was just a case of managing the details.

In this case, by Friday evening the longest wall of my second bedroom now had a full-length curtain pole, installed by a couple of men-who-can from the curtains shop, and I also learned that Lia had ordered three options to get things started; chocolate brown crushed velvet, deep red crushed velvet, and bubblegum pink, also in crushed velvet. I had expected we would be moving her studio lights over, but she shook that idea off, wanting to use as much natural light as possible, with a small table with a thick votary candle on it to pick up anything in the foreground she wanted to highlight. Yeah, she had her own fanny lighting.

Friday also saw the delivery of the chaise longue, though in this as in her choice of drapery for her first boudoir shoot, Lia forbade me to enter the room, telling me she wanted it to come as a surprise on Saturday when we could spend time with the Leica. In compensation she took me out for a nice meal, took me to her bed, and took care of my ‘problem’ of my cum not being inside her fanny. And mouth.

“Ready?” Lia asked as we stood in front of the door to my once spare bedroom, Saturday’s breakfast eaten, the morning’s teas drunk, and a light walk to help with digestion now complete. “Here we go, into The Jismissary.”

“Sorry the what?” I chuckled, not sure what I’d heard.

“The Jismissary. Jim’s Jismissary. You know how a commissary is the place where you get comestibles, well a jismissary is the place where you can get a small flood of jizz.”

“A small flood?”

“A modest one at least.”

“Well I’ll do my best,” I promised.

“And you do, and your best is the best, but I don’t mean just your jizz, I mean all my subs. One look at your photos of me all boudoired? Jizz for days! One more thing. You know how you’re my ‘tit whisperer’, always making sure Rightie keeps up with Leftie?” Lia asked.

“Tit whisperer? I should get that on my business card,” I teased.

“You should, but what I mean was can you get them to go down as well as up? Both of them, at the same time of course.”

“You don’t want them erect?”

Lia shook her head. “Nope. Shyly soft’n’floppy, if you please.”

“I’m not sure how, but I’ll do my best. Can I ask why?”

“Okay, this might be me being silly and reading way too much into things, but hard nips? That’s sexy, sexy as in going to bone, or sexy as in thinking about how much a nice boning is just what the doctor’s about to call for. Soft? Not sexy. Okay I get the whole nude tits are always sexy thing, at least to my subs, but they’re not overtly sexy. So I want soft nips so it seems like the photos are a bit more innocent. I mean I’m still gonna be coy’n’shit, you know, hint’o’pussy and all that, but I almost want it to feel a bit voyeuristic even if it’s not full on watching someone cum and they don’t know. Make sense?”

“You should write a paper on it,” I said, the psycho-sexual reading of nipples not something I’d ever thought about but it made sense, mad sense, but sense all the same. “Truly a fascinating and unique insight.”

“Thanks, but papering over my nips? Really isn’t my thing.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I said, not quite sure what ‘nip papering’ might be but beginning to better recognise questions best left unasked. “So no teddies or plushies for this?”

Lia shook her head. “Nope, not appropriate for the boudoir, but I do have a prop.”

“You do?” I asked cautiously.

Lia giggled. “Not that kind of prop, dumbass. No I went round the antique shops and found an old leather bound book. I cleaned it up and... oh. I hope I didn’t make it too shiny that it causes you problems with flares’n’shit. Anyway, hoping that I didn’t do that, what I want to do is a set posing with the book, you know, as if you’re watching me reading but I don’t know, ‘natural’ poses of me reading, of me looking away in deep thought, even hugging the book to me and squishing my tits up a bit.”

“So that’s soft nipples but squished tits?”

Lia grinned. “Can’t see my nips then, can you?”

“You’ve got me there. Interesting, though; I never knew it was possible to envy a book,” I teased.

“Oh you can squish my tits up later, I promise, haha, but not until we’ve got this session done. So? Ready to see what I did to your room?”

“Fascinated,” I said as Lia opened the door into her vision of a modern boudoir. “And that’s a lot of pink,” I said, the bubblegum pink drapes out across the back wall.

“Tell me that’s not me?”

“No, it’s you, and it’s a lot of you.”

Lia smiled. “Girly enough to make a boudoir set different? Something to make a splash with?”

“It’s certainly that,” I said, trying not to think about splashing in the Jismissary as I held Lia in my arms, taking in all the changes now that I could see them for the first time.

She’d been busy. Though she’d probably not admit it, it looked like this room had been the focus of all her energies since we got back, and it showed.

In front of the chaise was an ornate little coffee table I felt confident had also come from the same antiques shop as the book she’d bought. The wood was dark orange almost, and there had been so much fretwork done to that table so that it made me wonder if I put a light underneath what kinds of interesting shadows would it throw around.

Lia’s book prop was presently lying casually on top of the table and was a little bigger than I had been expecting, maybe thirty centimetres high, half that in width, rather thick, and bound in a pale yellow leather with a darker leather down the spine, though there was no lettering I could see to say what it was a book of. I guessed Lia had bought the book after Remy had had the chaise delivered, the book’s pale yellow a nice complement to the chaise’s pale wheat coloured leather.

That chaise, though, was something else.

Although I knew the it was new, it must have been modelled on an older design, not made to look old but to look as though it could be old, the way a refurbished original might look. It had heavy studs pinning the leather to a dark wooden frame and low dark brown metal feet in the shape of elegant lion’s paws. The back of the chaise only ran about half way along its length, and to the right as I was looking at it was a curled side arm which came out quite a way. Think a heavy scroll looked at from the side and that was the impression you got looking at it. Also, and I was quite ready to be proved wrong on this, but that side arm didn’t look like it would be all that comfortable for Lia to stand against and lean over as she enjoyed a post shoot boning. Perhaps kneeling on the chaise? I felt sure we’d work something out, but regardless of that, it was a really beautiful piece of furniture, definitely something only found in the better boudoirs.

Lastly, Lia had artfully draped a paisley throw over the chaise, one of those ‘better’ kinds of paisley whose pattern said ‘fascinating’ rather than making your eyes bleed, this one is dusty oranges and complementary reds with the occasional glimpse of yellow in the detail. Had she matched it to the little table? I wouldn’t be surprised if she had.

“Well?” Lia asked a little hesitantly.

I smiled. “You know I’ve only got three films for today? I need to get more and keep a supply. Lia, this looks really good.”

“Thank you!” she gushed, hugging me and kissing me softly.

“And I can see this is absolutely going to be a success though I’m not quite sure how you’re going to market this–”

“Er, about that,” Lia interrupted, bottom lip heading for a good chewing.

“Oh? You sound like you know how to market it?”

“I think I do. Kind of,” she said, hesitating a moment during which I looked to see if she was twisting her foot like a little girl might. She wasn’t, but I felt it was close. “Thing is, I’ve changed my mind a little. Oh I still want boudoir photos, but I won’t sell them. You will.”

“I will?”

Lia nodded. “You will. I was thinking, the Leica stuff? If we use the DSLR for the bears’n’plushies then those are my shots, but the boudoir stuff? The stuff that’s not girl’n’cuddly and that’s not catgirl? Doesn’t really fit my sites, so why don’t we sell them from your site?”

“My ... site?” I asked. I’d created and maintained sites in the past, but only when I was testing something connected with work, and all of those had been strictly temporary. And purged from the servers afterwards.

Lia nodded. “Yes. I think is has to be an OnlyFans - Patreon are funny about even a hint of fanny, even funnier than me, haha - but you could start there, me as your model, you and your Leica and the boudoir.”

“You mean digital versions?” I asked, a little confused. I knew she felt the Leica did better for character than her DSLR, PhotoShop witchcraft or not. I hadn’t been too sure about that ... and then we got back from Remy’s, I developed and scanned in the Leica films, and she had been right. Of course. Doesn’t matter how much more detail, information, or whatever else you can get from a DSLR RAW, the scanned Leica had it hands down for warmth and personality.

“Digital as well you mean?” Lia asked. “Sell the digital sets, but maybe offer real prints at a higher level or for tips?”

“I guess we could do that, but it’s not something I’d thought of, and I think I need to check it with work before we go ahead.”

“Work? Why work?” Lia asked, not seeing how they connected.

“Put yourself in their shoes. One of your employees starts selling nude art photos?”

“Oh. They might not be okay with that?”

“I’ve no idea. It’s not a work related thing so I don’t see how they could say ‘no’, but I would have to check with them first. It’s a while since I joined and I don’t think there was a clause about this kind of thing in my contract, but I wasn’t looking for one at the time so there might be and I don’t want to trip over it. I’ll check, but if it’s a ‘no’ we can still sell them through your sites or set up a separate boudoir site.”

Lia nodded. “I guess but I really hope they say ‘yes’. Jim, you’ve a really good eye for shots that are just that bit different so that it’s not just another girl with her tits out. I’d like to see you get the money’n’shit for that, not me. I’m, haha, I’m just supplying the tits.”

“And they are an excellent contribution,” I said, Lia grinning at my lame praise. “Before you get into things, though, I want to take a few shots of the chaise and the book and the throw on their own, something to frame the rest with.”

“Oh? You want to make a story of it?”

I shrugged. “No idea, but something to top’n’tail the set might be nice.”

“Like it! Okay, I’ll get nude and let the ‘clothes lines’ fade, and you do your thing, deal?”

“Deal,” I said, Lia headed stage left to strip down, her blouse, jumper, and skirt-no-knickers folded over a convenient stool whilst I got to work shooting the chaise, the throw, and the book, that latter of which turned out to be a collection of photos of paintings from art galleries in the Netherlands. How it ended up in our little corner of England I had no idea.

I wasn’t long taking my shots, especially as I was conscious of the count of shots I had left.

“How do I look?” Lia grinned, squishing her tits, presumably to persuade Rightie and Frankie to go play hide.

“Er not sexy in a sexy kind of way.”

“Good enough. How’re you for light in here?”

“With the door open plus what’s coming in from the window there’s plenty. I’m afraid if you were invested in using the candle, we’ll need to do this later in the day, maybe even at night.”

“No, no need. That was there in case we needed it, that’s all. So. You’re top’n’tail idea? I like it. How about I walk in from the right, see the book, examine it, decide to read for a little while, get onto the chaise and read, get thoughtful, put the book down, and head off to the left. No looking at camera, no sly winks, just a nude girl finding an interesting old book. Oh, if you see any shots you especially want to make, call ‘em out, okay?”

“You got it,” I said. “But that throw? That backdrop? How your skin will contrast the book and the chaise? Really makes me wish I was shooting in colour.”

Lia shook her head. “Go get the DSLR for that if you want, but I want the set to be all Leica and all b’n’w. You can maybe do some colour shots, but after, okay? Or you could add a tint or a wash to the shots later in PhotoShop.”

“You’re the boss, boss, but any reason for not shooting in colour, even if I had a colour film for the Leica?” I asked. I hadn’t any left after the weekend, only having three rolls of b’n’w I’d picked up to test things out with, not expecting Lia to be calling a shoot before I’d restocked.

“Just the obvious. Like I showed you the other day, there’s character in b’n’w and when you add a Leica into the mix? Character for days,” Lia said as we got to work, burning through two films and two hours of carefully ‘snapped’ shots that were way more composed than the viewer was meant to realise. We were only a few shots in before I began to realise how different Lia was in these photos, how the playfulness of the bears’n’plushies and the Carry On naughtiness of the catgirl photos, how that was gone now. In their place Lia was, for want of a better term, more adult in her movement, much more the Lia I knew rather than the Lia who presented for OnlyFans and Patreon. I could also see these photos would not sit well with her other sites, but I was increasingly confident that wherever they finally were posted, they would do very well indeed.

Finally we were done, the films were ready to be developed and scanned, and Lia was stage left, doing one of her feline stretches that could give a corpse an erection. “Still got any films?”

“Just one. I think I might need to add more to the order I’ve already placed, or if that’s despatched made a second order.”

“Order more,” Lia said.

“That’s very definitive?”

“Yep. You’re good. You’re confident. If you’ve some ‘extra’ films in, you’ll be more willing to take risks, less ‘oh crap’ that you’ve not got enough films to re-do a shoot. So. Order more.”

“Got it,” I said, thinking how even as she’d been posing, she’d been analysing how I took the photos. Lia is so cute, so adorable, that it’s easy to underestimate her. I knew better than to do that, of course, but sometimes she still surprised me with how deep she thought about things. Even as she had been explaining why I needed more than just ‘more’ films, I could feel how she was describing something I knew, but just hadn’t thought about. “For now I’ve just got 36 more exposures left. What’ve you got in mind?”

Lia grinned mischievously. “Special set, all for one sub.”

“Oh? You’ve had someone make a request?”

Lia shook her head. “Nope. I want to make some French postcards. For Remy.”

“Ah.”

“Yep, and this time nips’n’lips are in, baby!” Lia giggled.

I chuckled. “How French are you intending to go?”

Lia grinned. “I’m thinking early Alain Delon.”

“And for those of us who aren’t quite sure what that means?”

“Young, smouldering, and makes me wet,” Lia said as she got back on the chaise, got up on all fours, looked down, moved her arms so her tits were showing, and looked back up at me. “It starts like this and builds from there.”

“Bloody hell,” I gulped, Lia chuckling as I offered a quick prayer that Remy had a strong heart.

And with that we were off, Lia moving from pose to pose, more random, no really story to them, just Lia experimenting with how erotically she could pose herself, never coming even close to anything she would call porn, but all of them so lit with sexual fire I worried I might need to slip the Leica into the fridge after we were done. And me with it. I don’t know how much Lia had been thinking about this set on the QT, or how much of it was pure instinct, but we got to the end of the film in what felt like no time at all and from what I’d seen down the viewfinder I now know how a chunk a fresh meat feels when tossed in front of a lioness.

“That’s the last one,” I warned as Lia finished off her performance with a photo of her lying on the chaise, nothing showing at all, but one leg up in the air at an angle Freud would have criticised for being much too obvious, though looking at Lia as a whole he would absolutely have allowed it. I clicked, I stood back, and I started winding the film back onto the spool.

“Okay, mister, strip,” Lia said as she rolled on to her side, watching me, idly pulling gently on her nipple.

“You have something in mind?” I chuckled as I put the Leica away and did as she asked, trying not to be obscenely obvious as I hurriedly got naked, my cock already anticipating ‘next’.

“I do, but Jim?”

“Lia?”

“Slight change of mind,” she said a little sadly.

“Oh?”

“Yep. I don’t think you can do me over the arm of this.”

“I thought so, too.”

“You did?”

“It’s an incredible chaise, but it’s a little too big for that. However, I have had another idea.”

“You have?”

“I have.”

“You’ve been shooting boudoir photos of me, and all the time thinking how to bone me?” Lia asked, clearly faking her expression as she pulled on her nipple, an ‘ooh’ Frankie Howerd would have been envious of.

“I was multitasking.”

“And I approve! Very much,” Lia giggled. “So what’s your plan for taking me?”

“If you were to kneel on the chaise, face towards the side arm, and lean over on your forearms maybe... ?”

Lia looked, cocked her head, turned to me, and grinned. “Okay, for that you get to make me cum at least twice,” she said as she mounted the chaise, opened her legs, and I mounted her.

“Three! You know I came three times!” Lia ‘complained’ as we found out Remy’s choice of a leather chaise made sense when someone’s final orgasm was so wild - she lying on her back, leaning back over the arm of the chaise and sucking my cock as I stood the other side of the chaise, bending forward and making sure Rightie and Leftie were having the time of their lives - that when she came she actually squirted some of my cum back out.

“I did notice,” I said as she snuggled up behind me, kissing me on the shoulder as we surveyed our works. We’d made a bit of a mess, all right.

“Good. Don’t forget. It’s a new tradition. We shoot in here, you shoot in me, I shoot too,” she giggled. “Never knew I was a squirter.”

“I’m not sure that’s what that means.”

“No?”

“No.”

“But I squirted cum!”

“Impressively so, yes, but still, I think you are supposed to squirt your own liquids, not someone else’s.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, that’s something to practice then,” she said as we kissed some more before finally getting up and quickly wiped down the chaise before heading off into the bathroom for a fairly quick shower. After that Lia went to do something for a late lunch, leaving me to get on with the important task of doing things with films and Paterson tanks so that we could check the shots out later. I know what I’d seen down the viewfinder looked good, but the proof of the pudding would be in the developing.

“All dunked’n’done’n’drying?” Lia asked as I stepped into a kitchen smelling of meat cooking. “Burgers?”

“Yes, and also yes. Films will be ready later this afternoon.”

“Cool. You know I was serious what I said earlier, if your work says you can, we really should do these under your name.”

“I think I’d like that.”

Lia turned from the cooker, grinning, wearing only that grin and an apron, reminding me of some early shots I’d taken of Miss P. Something to revisit, maybe. “So what if someone else wants you to take their photos?” she asked.

“You mean them commissioning me to take sets of you?”

“Well yes, they might do that, but I meant what if one of your subs asks you to take photos of someone else, y’know, not me?”

“I don’t know it would work out,” I said as my brain began to fill with one ‘what if’ question after another.

“Jim, you’re not worried I’ll be jealous or something, you seeing another woman naked?” she asked gently, her question serious, not teasing.

“That’s part of it ... yeah, how would that go?”

“You mean a professional photographer taking professional photos in a professional context?”

“Ouch.”

Lia smiled. “Sorry. Came out snarkier than I meant. I guess I’m a bit sleepy-headed after squirting cum, haha. No, I was talking of someone coming to you to get themselves photographed? Didn’t mean I was worried about you perving over some other nude woman or whatever.”

“Thanks...” I said, uncertain if I’d been praised or not.

Lia sighed. “Sorry, I’m not explaining this well am I? It’s like this. I know there are other women in the world. I know that sometimes you might notice them as well. Sometimes you might even look. I get it. I do it, too. We all do. Just means we sometimes see someone who ticks some of the boxes. So what. Jim? You tick every box I have, and I’m pretty sure you’re the same about me,” she said. I nodded, so she continued. “Okay. And I’ll reward you for that later, but for now? If someone comes along and asks you to take a boudoir set for them, if you want to arrange a shoot with them I’m not going to get jealous that you’re getting to look at another woman’s tits’n’bits. Okay?”