This story is inspired by the portrait of Caroline Rémy de Guebhard. Caroline was a French Journalist with anarchist, socialist, communist and feminist views, best known under the pen name Séverine. It was painted by Amélie Beaury-Saurel in 1893 and it’s a fictitious story of how the two women had interacted while the artist was painting the portrait.

Out of the Blue

“How do you want me, Amélie?” she asked the woman who was clad in a paint covered poncho.

“Your lovely dress screams for you to sit, Caroline,” she replied, her beautiful dulcet voice reverberating in the spacious atelier. Caroline looked at the corner the painter had prepared and she loved the dark wood of the cabinet. As she gracefully sat down, she crossed her legs and moved her chest forward.

“Hmm. Actually,” Amélie pondered thoughtfully as she tapped her index finger on her delicate lips, “that doesn’t reflect the flamboyance of the dress.”

With a rapid pace the black haired woman crossed the room and as she grabbed a little stool she said, “We need some more curving lines, don’t you agree?”

Caroline stared at the feisty woman as she walked back to her, knowing the painter had Spanish blood flowing in her veins. She adored the playful accent which added a strange staccato to the words, making them sound more powerful in a way. As the painter knelt down in front of her she almost commanded, “Lift your left leg Caroline and put your foot on the stool.”

“There,” Amélie purred as she blatantly roamed her hand over Caroline’s sturdy thighs to flatten the silky fabric, “Much better.”

Her breath stopped for a moment as Amélie’s hand almost reached for her crotch but then the artist’s slender fingers merely pulled on the fabric of her dress. “Perfect,” the artist said, satisfied as she looked Caroline straight in the eyes, “You have such a beautiful body. I would love to paint you nude someday.”

Caroline’s laugh was a little panicked as she didn’t know how to react. It was flattering and very tempting but her fragile position in Paris’ society would suffer considerably. Disappointed in herself she looked down as she stammered, “I, I don’t think that would be wise.”

“I know,” replied Amélie softly as she gently patted Caroline’s thigh, “Sit up straight beautiful, and show me your utmost determined posture.”

She recalled the many heated discussions she had had with her companion Adrien but now she finally had reached her goal, just after she had turned 29. She couldn’t keep from smirking as she remembered how well her first articles were received. The whole of Paris was talking about the daring subjects she had addressed using her male pseudonym Séverine.

“You remind me of a dear friend I had in Corsica,” Amélie said softly as she stood, “She had the same amazing wild auburn hair as you.”

The painter walked slowly to the canvas and she started to mix the pigments with the oily base of her paints as she continued, “I was 23 when I met her. Jocelyne was her name. A true joy to be with.”

As she placed the first strokes of paint on the canvas she sighed deeply. “I still miss her dearly.”

Caroline tried to keep her posture as she asked, “What happened to her?”

Amélie looked past the paintbrush in her hand as she answered flatly, “She got married.”

The redhead stared at the woman, and wanting to know more she asked, “Why would that stop you from visiting her?”

Amélie moved back to the canvas and as she was applying the paint with large strokes she said, “I’d met her during one of the many paint courses I’d followed. We were staying in a friend’s house and his name was Alfonso. It was huge and had the most amazing studio which was big enough to easily accommodate all of us. Jocelyne was the model, wearing a see-through gown and I was the lucky person who could paint her with the light behind her.”

As she peeked with her eyes just over the edge of the painting she winked and continued enthusiastically, “Jocelyne’s body was in a perfect position; her face was in profile and her body was slightly twisted which allowed me to paint her blessed feminine curves.”

Caroline knew exactly what Amélie was talking about and wondered why she was sharing this somewhat disturbing yet enticing information with her.

“Her legs were not as curved as yours,” Amélie said thoughtfully as she let her eyes roam over Caroline’s body again, “but they were almost in perfect proportion with her slender body.”

Caroline chuckled nervously and murmured, “I guess she doesn’t need to climb as many stairs as I do.”

“That day the temperatures were high and Alfonso had opened all the doors and windows which allowed the light breeze to play with Jocelyne’s gown,” said Amélie as she hid herself behind the canvas again, “I had trouble focusing on the painting as I was distracted by the gown which kept on revealing different parts of her beautiful, naked body.”

Caroline tried to imagine the scene; the warm studio filled with artists who are trying to depict the slender redhead. She wondered how it would be to have that many eyes focusing on her while wearing such a daring gown. It actually made her long to be admired by strangers and she suddenly came to the conclusion it was exactly what she was doing when she published an article.

“Pay attention dear Caroline,” the artist chided softly, “Please give me that determined look again.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied meekly as she regained her posture, “I was a little distracted.”

“No worries,” Amélie said with a giggle but then asked with a small voice, “You want me to stop telling what happened with Jocelyne?”

“No no no,” Caroline quickly answered, “I love hearing what happened.”

The artist had a forlorn smile as she continued by saying, “When the session had ended my painting was far from finished but as soon as Jocelyne saw what I had done so far she was most enthralled by the result.”

Amélie moved away from the painting and as she looked closely at Caroline’s left hand she remarked, “Your hands look sturdy but they are also very elegant. Do you play piano?”

The reporter sighed deeply as she nodded once. “My mother insisted that I should study at least one musical instrument.”

“Jocelyne loved to sing and sat quite often at the piano to accompany herself,” Amélie said as she moved back to the canvas.

There was a long pause before she spoke again. “She wanted me to finish the painting and she invited me to visit her home.”

“Luckily it was only a twenty-minute walk to her place,” the painter said as she looked past her paintbrush to Caroline, “I tell you; it’s quite a challenge to carry the unfinished painting and all my painting gear. I was surprised to find out Jocelyne had a special place prepared for me. It was a beautiful veranda which looked out to the large enclosed garden.”

Amélie sighed as she moved back to the painting. “The light was perfect and to my surprise Jocelyne got undressed straight away. Then she checked the position of the sun and moved towards a shaded place, taking the same pose as she’d done at the studio.”

“You mean,” Caroline asked incredulously, “She was naked?”

She moved away from the canvas as she replied, “I was as surprised as you are, especially when she said that I should paint her body first and then the gown.”

Amélie slowly shook her head as she mixed the paint on her pallet and continued, “Within seconds I had my canvas mounted on the easel and soon I realized Jocelyne had taken a completely different stance. I didn’t know she had done it deliberately, goading me to come close to her to correct her pose.”

The black haired woman smiled briefly before she studied the sitting woman again.

“She smelled wonderful,” she said with a happy sigh, “It was an amazing mix of flowers and citric fruits. Her skin had a wonderful warm ivory tone while her face and hands were blessed by the sun a little more, giving them a mixture of honey and golden tones which made her shamrock green eyes look so much more brilliant. Her full lips were an enticing rose red and I can’t recall she’d ever painted them another color. Anyway, I must have been staring at her for a long time because Jocelyne started to giggle.”

The artist chuckled. “I think we had laughed on and off for at least 5 minutes before I could muster enough willpower to correct her pose. She behaved like a naughty girl as she moved her arms or body slightly, knowing I had to correct her again. It was then she kissed me for the first time. She’d done it because I started to be a little annoyed with her.”

Amélie looked unperturbed at Caroline, studying the woman in front of her and said softly, “Those lips were warm and so soft. It had not only the disarming effect she intended but it also had shaken me to the bone.”

The Spanish woman looked the redhead straight in the eyes as she fired the question, “Have you ever kissed a woman Caroline?”

Taken aback by the sudden question she stammered, “I, I have never deliberately kissed a woman on her lips. I think it’s rather rude to impose such an intimate act upon someone.”

Amélie’s laugh was joyful which reverberated in the spacious room. “Oh come on, Caroline. May I suggest loosening up a little? There’s nothing rude about expressing your affection for someone. I’ll bet you’ve kissed a man without asking for his approval.”

Caroline’s face became a little warm as she recalled the time she had tested her older sister’s theory that men were easily convinced to do something they didn’t want to do by suddenly kissing them on the lips. She was only 16 when she had kissed her neighbor’s son to convince him to bring her a croissant. He did it but she had to pay for it and when she refused he ate the damn thing himself.

Amélie had a knowing smile edged on her face and said nothing as she moved back to the painting.

“Jocelyne finally decided to be a little more cooperative,” she continued as she deftly applied the paint to the canvas, “And I had the marvelous opportunity to spend a few hours to capture her beautiful body. It was only when the sun had lowered behind the mountain that Jocelyne suggested I should stay for dinner. Only then did I realize we were alone in this magnificent dwelling. It seemed that the little palace was her family’s holiday house which she had claimed for the month.”

“Are you comfortable Caroline?” she suddenly asked the redhead, “Please let me know if you want to take a break. It can be quite challenging to sit in the same position for such a long time.”

“I’m fine, Amélie” Caroline responded with a warm smile but then her face colored a healthy red as she said, “I think your erm ... intriguing story is a great help.”

“Ah I see,” replied the painter with a chuckle, “Then I’ll continue.”

As she mixed some colors on her pallet she said, “Dinner was simple but delicious, especially because of the charming table mate I had. The wine was superb; fresh and full of fruit, with a little fizz which soon made me a little lightheaded. Then suddenly Jocelyne picked the wine bottle out of the cooler and asked me to follow her. ‘You’re going to love it,’ she told me as she guided me through the spacious house and, to my surprise, to a large pool residing just behind the veranda. And again the beautiful but frivolous girl blatantly discarded her dress and stepped, completely naked, into the shallow water.”