Chapter 1

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By April 1873, Zilas Jones, a professional photographer with a studio located on Franklin Avenue, just south of East Main, was fed up with the Puritan attitude of his fellow Philadelphians, you would think it was Boston for God’s sake! He had just come from a City Hall meeting where a cease and desist order had been given him in regards to his Portrait Studio’s display of bawdy photographs displayed in the front window, advertising his business. He was told not only to stop displaying photographs of that nature, but to stop taking photographs of that nature forthwith! For God’s sake, the photographs in question only showed the woman’s knees! He was unquestionably the best photographer in Philadelphia, but if the City Fathers were going to be so Draconian, then he was going to find somewhere where he had the freedom guaranteed by the First Amendment of the Constitution of these United States! Perhaps he should go west, west of the Mississippi River, maybe all the way to California! Zilas decided to think about it a bit longer, he didn’t like to make rash decisions.

I am Zilas Jones, 23 years old, tall at 6’3” and have broad shoulders and narrow hips, my 210 lbs were all muscle not fat. Born to a moderately wealthy family, my father was in the import export business, I didn’t lack for anything growing up. My mother encouraged my pursuits in a diverse number of activities, academic, as well as physical. She also funded my involvement in various hobbies in the hope that I would find my life’s work and passion. Regardless of whatever I was doing, she insisted that I always did my best. She also encouraged me to learn how to take care of myself, household chores such as cleaning and cooking, as well as physically like boxing. As a result I began learning the manly art of boxing when I turned ten years old.

I learned to box at a local club with a professional trainer. I also began taking fencing lessons, it helps with footwork and recognizing your opponent’s muscle movements in anticipation of offensive attacks. When I was thirteen I was at the docks when a Chinaman was attacked by a very large stevedore who had believed that the Chinaman was easy pickings being more than twice his size, he had been very wrong! The Chinese gentleman kicked his ass with fluid moves I had never seen before. The gentleman’s name was Kuan Lee. I sought him out and asked him what kind of fighting he had used, it was called Tai Chi in the Yang Style. I asked him where I could learn to fight like that. Kuan Lee asked me why I wanted to learn. I had responded, to learn the fluidity of motion to improve my skills at boxing and fencing. It had been the right answer, had it been about fighting Kuan would have refused to help me. Kuan Lee didn’t reject me and took me as a student. I excelled and by the age of twenty, I had reached the highest level, equivalent to a double black belt, though Tai Chi didn’t have belts. He also taught me the Chinese language and customs.

One of the many hobbies I looked into was photography, I was intrigued by capturing a moment in time. That that moment could potentially exist forever was the ultimate possible enticement to that profession. My mother bought me the absolute best equipment available at that time and arranged an apprenticeship with a renowned photographer for instruction when I was fifteen years old. This acclaimed photographer held a closely guarded secret unbeknownst to my parents. He made a great deal of money by making risqué photographs of women. He taught me everything he knew about all the aspects of professional photography while introducing me to the delights of the female form. I was an enthusiastic and very observant student and took advantage of opportunities to delve into my studies in the bedroom as well as the studio.

Sadly both of my parents died when the ship they were sailing to England on sank in a mid Atlantic storm. Being the sole heir, I inherited everything. The business I sold to those people who had worked for my father for years. I lived in the house and bought another house closer to downtown where I developed my photography business using the various rooms as studios and darkrooms for developing my photos. Not long after my parents passing, my mentor also died leaving me his business, including the seemier side.

I began thinking about going west, I had more than enough money to go. My studio, while profitable, was a cover for my real money maker, and those photographs showed a lot more skin than just knees! Those were women and girls totally naked! Not just naked either, but having sex in its many forms! There is a fantastic market for these pictures, even in the sexually repressed Victorian Era. Probably because of it! As an added bonus I often was the beneficiary of having sex with the women I photographed. I sold pictures to a great range of people, from clergy, professional people, store clerks, rich, poor it didn’t matter! They all wanted a glimpse of what women hid under all those hoop skirts, tea gowns, corsets and bustles. And what did they look like when having sex? Getting as much as a silver dollar for one picture, I used a network of Hotel clerks and concierge’s to sell the pictures. They would make 30% of what they sold. The models would make $3-5 dollars per day depending on subject matter. The more explicit the higher the amount paid. The models were often high class prostitutes, dance hall girls, school girls looking for a thrill, and even housewives doing the same! My photographs were known for their focused subjects, clarity, and the models being well lit.

Of course the models who were students or housewives would wear makeup or hats that would hide their faces, to keep them from being recognized. I once photographed the mayor’s wife and daughter involved in a incestous sapphic tryest! Despite being one of my best selling photographs no one ever found out it was them.

I weighed the positives and negatives, go or stay, I had a very profitable business, friends, and lovers, those were all very good reasons to stay. On the other hand, Ihad always wanted to travel in the west, I hadn’t learned to fastdraw a Colt double action Peacemaker Revolver for nothing, and could do it with either hand. Another big reason to get out of town was the City Council was beginning to restrict content more and more. The new C&D I had received was a case in point. I had also heard rumors from reliable sources that Pinkerton detectives had been hired to track down the source of the nude pictures of women and underage girls being sold at the city’s Hotels. That, if true, was a good reason to get out of Philly! That really tips the scales for leaving! If someone found out just who some of those girls were, I’d be lucky to be only tar’d and feathered!

Decision made, I needed to organize and get out of town as quickly as possible! I needed to make a list ... Sell the Studio and house 2. Sell the Hotel Network 3. Sell most of my equipment 4. Plan my route 5. Design a portable studio and Dark room, with a bed. 6. Have the Portable Studio built in Kansas City 6. I decided on three cameras with different lenses: a Meniscus landscape lens, a Petzval Portrait lens, and a telescopic lens, but they were not very good so I stopped searching for one. Instead I found a panoramic lens. 7. Buy spares for everything. 8. Purchase a Winchester 1873 rifle in 44 S&W that I would hand carry 9. Buy ammunition 44 S&W 10. Buy western duds including Levi’s, a slicker, a hat and boots in Kansas City 11. Purchase a riding horse in KC. 12. Purchase a mule/s for the Wagon in KC 12. Purchase a saddle and tack in KC. 13. Purchase a scabbard for the Winchester rifle in KC. 14. Purchase dry goods in KC. 15. Wire transfer money to a KC Bank I transferred $1,500.00 to a Wells Fargo Bank. 16. Purchase a train ticket to KC. 17. Purchase a 1873 Colt Cattleman revolver converted to 44 S&W w/3.5” barrel with cross draw shoulder holster, which I would strap on as soon as we left Philadelphia. 18. Purchase a Model 1873 Ace In the Hole” 22LR Single Shot Derringer with belt mounted holster to be kept on me at all times, when dressed. 19. Purchase a Sharps 45-2 ⅞ with a custom octagonal barrel six inches longer than normal w/Vernier sights and the best telescopic sight available (the Quigley gun). 20. 500 rounds 45-2 ⅞ ammunition 21. Scabbard for the Sharps

I had mixed feelings about selling the network, I have some great friends and we had some good times but I had to. Maybe I could sell it to Max? Max was my closest competitor, he was a good photographer and was a nice guy. I arranged a meeting with Max, and we made an agreement that Max would purchase everything for $1,000 plus 10% of profits for ten years, to be deposited into my account at the First Bank of Philadelphia each month.

Max also bought my Studio/house for $500.00, and most of my equipment for another $300. The cameras and developing chemicals I wanted to keep would be shipped to KC.

The house was a big three story that I had inherited from my mother, built on two acres with half an acre surrounding the house and was privacy fenced. He called on Madame Boverie at her place of business, it just so happens that her house was too small. Madame Boverie was interested, she was getting pressure from the same City Council members that I was! They didn’t want a house of ill repute in their neighborhood, even though the one that lived the closest was over two miles away! She looked and bought the same day, for $750.00 with another $250 for the furniture! Mother would be rolling in her grave if she knew I had sold her beloved house that my father had built for her, along with all her furniture had been sold to a whore house!

The ticket was bought, all the other items were purchased and packed for transport. I packed my other weapons in my suitcase except my Saber, that wouldn’t fit, so it was in a tube attached to the suitcase. I was leaving on Monday March 24. I paid more for a private berth for the trip to KC. The trip was going to take four or five days.

Everything is ready! My friends and business associates gave me a party on Sunday afternoon. It was fun, yet sad, for I had known some of these people all my life, my cousin Emily was there, we gave up our respective virginities to each other when we were fourteen. The mayor’s wife and daughter were there for a short time to wish me well! All in all it was a great time! I even stayed sober, I wanted to be on my toes while traveling.

The train left at the unGodly hour of 6:00AM! A friend of mine took me and all my stuff to the station. We arrived at 5:30 so we could load the crates into the baggage car. We said goodbye again, then he left and I loaded myself onto the train. I was dressed fashionably in a dark chocolate suit with tails, a vest of a lighter color brown, and a ruffled white shirt. My pants were the same color as the vest, my shoes were dark chocolate, as was the Derby hat on my head. I thought I looked spiffy!

I found my cabin, it was a Pullman car, it was quite spiffy too! This accommodation also gave me access to the first class dining car. And the first class smoking car. I wasn’t exactly rich, but traveling a long distance is much more pleasant in comfortable surroundings, than stuffed in a car with fifty other smelly people, sitting on wooden seats without cushions for over a thousand miles! I’ll spend a little more, thank you very much! The woodwork was stained white oak, with walnut accents, red and dark green cushions with matching curtains, etched glass in the doors and trimming the windows to the outside.

The train left on time. I inquired of the conductor as to when the dining car would be open for breakfast, thank God it was open now! After producing my ticket, he punched it, and I was off for breakfast! The dining car was just as fancy as my cabin. The hostess showed me to a small table and supplied a menu. A black man took my drink order of coffee, and orange juice. After delivering those he wrote out my food order. As I drank my coffee I watched as the dark landscape flew by. We had to be going at least thirty miles an hour! Of course we couldn’t maintain that speed all the way through! We had at least twenty stops at towns and coaling/water stations. Getting up to speed would take three to five miles, slowing down about the same! But it sure was better than traveling by wagon, that would take a month or two! This was great! Just as my food arrived, so did a woman who asked to join me. I had never met her before but she knew of me. Her name was Hannah Grayson, she introduced herself and I myself, she was going to Chicago.

Miss Grayson was about 18 years old, 5’6” tall, 110 lbs., red hair, 33”A size breasts, slim build and blue eyes, and beautiful! As I took her hand to politely shake it on our introduction a young man of twenty years old, and very drunk came into the car, and was looking around frantically! He spotted the young lady, Hannah, and started toward us, she had yet to see him. He had red hair, and looked to be her older brother. He brutally grabbed Hannah by her arm and began to pull her away! I stood up and calmly but firmly said,

“Unhand that woman, Sir!” When he didn’t do it, I once again said, louder “you are hurting her, young man! Stop, and take your hand off of her!”

Failing to do so, I reached out with my left hand and grabbed his little finger and bent it back! It made a satisfying “Pop!” sound whereupon he grunted and let go of her. He turned to me and loudly slurred,

“That hurt! She is my sister and she needs to come with me! And you need to butt out!”

I then said, “You have no call to treat her like an animal and hurt her rather than civilly ask her politely to come with you! You are drunk and are in no condition to be treating a lady so brutally, sister or not!” That’s when he tried to slap me! I easily interrupted his swing by redirecting it, making himself off balance and fall on his ass. Which pissed him off even more! Attempting to get up, I swept his hands out from under him with my foot, causing his chin to hit the floor rather hard, which caused a cut on it that began to bleed profusely. I looked around for a porter, or some one to bring me a towel. Anticipating what I sought, someone threw one to me, I saw the towel in the air and caught it. Immediately applying it to the young man’s wound, subduing his protesting hands as I locked his head in a hold between my knees to keep him still.

Looking at Miss Grayson I asked, “Is he always like this?”

Rubbing her bruised arm. She replied “Yes, particularly when he’s been drinking, which he seems to be doing a lot!”

“Any idea what he wants, that is so urgent?”

“No idea! But he thinks that he is in charge of me, Father sent him to escort me home! To him, that means controlling me every second of my time! He’s always been a controlling jerk!”

“Who is he?” As the guy continued to struggle with being held below me.

“Oh, I’m sorry, this drunken lout is my brother Jason Grayson the turd!”

Laughing I replied, “The turd? Or is it the third?”

“Well both apply, but officially it’s the third! But he is such an, a, a, a,...”

“Asshole?” I supplied.

“Yes! Ladies aren’t supposed to speak profanely, but sometimes other words just won’t work!”

A Doctor had been found and Jason taken to him to be stitched up, he had become more reasonable as he calmed down and sobered up a little.

“So, what was it that you wanted before we were so rudely interrupted? And how do you know me, or know of me?

“I have a friend at school, Miss Anne’s Finishing School, Catherine Handcock, who suggested I learn a very important lesson from you. But you left town before I had a chance to meet you. Imagine my surprise when I find you on the very same train that is taking me home! A very fortuitous coincidence I must say!”

I began to smile as soon as I heard Catherine’s name. She and several more girls had been sent to me by Miss Anne for, shall I say, extra curricular lessons of a sexual nature, and as models. This could be a very good trip indeed! And how wonderful it is that I have a private cabin! I responded,

“I remember Catherine very well! We spent several afternoons pursuing her advanced lessons! Do you want the same kind of lessons or did you have something else in mind?”

“The same lesson sounds perfectly divine! But we must find a way to keep my brother occupied and out of our hair, without making him suspicious!”

“I’m sure we can come up with something! Let me talk to the Conductor and see what can be arranged! Shall we meet back here in an hour?”

“Excellent! I look forward to many lessons before we reach Kansas City!”

We said our goodbyes. And I went in pursuit of the Conductor, I found him quickly and asked him to come to my cabin as quickly as possible. I slipped him a five dollar Half Eagle gold coin, that would insure his complete cooperation! I went to my cabin to get it ready for Hannah.

The Conductor came and we discussed ways to keep Jason occupied for an afternoon if possible, or two hours minimum! The best we could come up with was to convince him he needed to be trained to box in order to best me in a fight. One of the Porters, a man named Caleb, was an ex middleweight prize fighter. The Conductor would clear an area in the baggage car and cob together a punching bag. My part was to humiliate him when he was sober. I gave him three Liberty Golden Eagle $20 dollar gold pieces to spread around. I also asked him to have one of my boxes delivered to my cabin and described the one I wanted. I also asked him for a bag of traction sand (sand is poured onto the tracks ahead of the drive wheels when extra traction is needed).

I met with Hannah and told her the plan. She agreed with it saying his pride would work in our favor. Now we just had to wait for him to sober up! That wouldn’t be until tomorrow morning. Meanwhile we had some time because the good Doctor had given Jason some Laudanum before he stitched him up. I don’t know why, he was feeling no pain as he was! He might sleep for the rest of the day and night. It was lunchtime so we had a couple of sandwiches and potato chips, we had to keep our strength up you know! We planned to meet in my cabin in half an hour. That would give me enough time to set up my equipment and her to get spruced up.

She knocked on my door about thirty minutes later. She looked beautiful in a blue dress, her hair and makeup were perfect, the shade of red of her lip color matched her hair perfectly.

One might ask why that would matter in Black and white photography, it does however. The grayscale covers different shades or hues representing each color in the actual subject. How they combine in the photograph can make a dramatic difference in being a good photograph and a great one!

I had set up my lights with reflectors on tripods, and my camera also mounted on a tripod which had wide pads on its feet, those were placed in wooden boxes about a foot square and 5” deep. These were filled with the traction sand. The 3” diameter pads kept the tripod from sinking too quickly into the sand. The sand would help stabilize the camera from the constant vibrations of the train.

I posed Hannah in several positions that enhanced her figure and sexiness. Unlike some people, the camera loved her, I can’t wait to see the actual photos. As time went on, I started making adjustments to her clothing, a button undone, a hem moved to expose more skin, legs or breasts, cleavage or areola and nipples. Next I removed her dress, then her petticoats, then her corset. This exposed her beautiful A cup breasts and nipples that I found extended a full half an inch when excited, her areola was the size of a quarter and became much darker when titillated. They were the color of the center of a newly blossomed La France tea rose, before the sun’s rays bleached the darker color from the older petals. They were perfectly shaped as a champagne glass only with slightly less depth. Of course the last to fall, the “Pièce de résistance!” as the French say, her drawer’s! The reveal, sparse red pubic hair not covering the narrow cleft, presently hiding the labia hidden within, her long legs beautiful with a very light coat of barely visible red hair, the same as her arm pits.

(Author’s Note: the safety razor wasn’t mass produced until 1903 and it wasn’t until the 1920’s that women began to use them in quantity due to an advertising campaign to get women to get rid of their unsightly hair!)

As I am removing all of these clothes I am taking photographs, many at each stage of the unveiling. The camera used Gelatine Dry Glass Plates that had to be installed, then removed after an exposure of 1 to 2 seconds. Handling of the plates had to occur under a black hood or blanket so as to not expose them to light. This is a time consuming operation! The exposed plates can be stored in a box with slots to keep the plates separate; they can be developed later. I had boxes for all the unexposed plates I had, one box held 25 plates, with one box also with 25 empty, I could fill the empty one with exposed plates and use the empty box which had held the unexposed plates to hold the next exposed plates. All the plates had to be protected from light.

(Authors Note: The dry plate method didn’t become commercially available until 1888, emulsion paper was available however since 1841 but was primitive, though steadily improved upon!)

Posing her now naked body in the same positions as when clothed and then posing in more revealing positions, the frog position, my favorite, leaning back on her elbows with her legs spread, her pussy exposed and at this point very wet and engorged with her excitement. Her lips now swollen and completely separated, her clit was the same, now peeking out of her hood the size of a small pea! I had to move the camera to get closeups, I dropped to my knees and began to worship her pussy with my tongue, stopping to photograph it often. Then I didn’t stop until she exploded in orgasm. I did get a picture of her laying there after her climax, her face, breasts, and pussy clearly visible! Then Hannah told me to fuck her (so much for ladies not using profanity). I told her that I didn’t want to get her pregnant. She told me that Anne had given them herbal tea and its recipe for preventing pregnancy. It had been given to her by a Chinese Herbalist. So she was safe! She didn’t have to say it twice either! She was very wet, so I plunged all the way in. We had a great time, she was very enthusiastic! I also got a great photo at the conclusion of our session of my spend slowly leaking from her pussy hole! We had a late dinner together, but sadly we couldn’t sleep together.

The next morning, I needed Jason to pick a fight with me. I really didn’t think it would be very hard to do, probably just saying “Hello!” would be enough! I went to the dining car for breakfast. I was sitting there eating, when suddenly I was whacked on the head from behind. It seems I didn’t need to say anything at all. Slowly I stood up shaking my head, also slowly, trying to clear it. Jason, who really was a turd, stood waiting with his fists raised, not saying a word. When I had myself together, I told him,

“You Sir, are a coward! For only a coward would stoop so low as to attack from behind with no warning and strike a man in the head with no provocation whatsoever! If I didn’t think so highly of your sister, I would kill you where you stand!”

The other diners and wait staff were as shocked as I was. Jason said, “Don’t let my sister stop you, you bastard! You took advantage of my drunken state yesterday and caused me bodily harm! I am not drunk today, shall we try again, or are you the coward I think you are!”

“Yesterday in your drunkenness, you attacked your sister, causing her bodily harm, bruises and sore joints from you pulling on her arm. And when I admonished your behavior you attacked me! I defended myself, your injury was caused by your chin hitting the floor! If you wish, feel free to try and take your revenge on me. To help you, I’ll turn around!” And turned my back on him. He was probably not cognisant of the mirror that would let me watch him as he approached and to once again hit me with a pistol. Just as he raised it to strike me again. I swiveled, grabbed his gun at the cylinder, twisting and pulling him toward then pulled down and forward to flip him, head over heels onto the floor. The gun being ripped from his hand dislocated his trigger finger, hitting the floor knocked his breath away, and the clapping of the other people in the dining car, humiliated him. I sat back down to finish my coffee and breakfast. Once he regained his ability to breathe, he glared at me and exclaimed that he was going to get even with me no matter what it took or how long it took!

I looked at him and told him to sit down with me and let’s start over. “If you continue with this, and you try to attack me in any way I will kill you! I could do it right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me. Give this up, come sit with me and let’s start over. You don’t have to like me, but please give up this dangerous quest!”

Some of the people in the car with us also told him to stop, and to reconsider this course of action! But he pulled himself off the floor and walked out. Most everyone there stopped to tell me that at least I had tried and that it was in his hands now! I wasn’t sure if they meant his, as in Jason, or his, as in God’s. I suspect that “both” is the best answer!

I found Hannah and told her what had happened. She had no idea how to keep Jason from pursuing this course! We did hope that the Conductor was successful in his part of the plot. For more personal reasons! The Conductor sent word that they had been successful in recruiting Jason in boxing lessons, they would meet at 1:00 until 6:00 every day till we arrived in Kansas City. That was perfect for us!

At one o’clock we were in a heated embrace, lips crushed against lips, tongues dueling in a quest to fully invest in giving pleasure to the other. Our hands began to explore each other in ever more provocative and titillating ways, first on the outer layer of the facade that we hide our physical being behind. She concentrated on my buttocks, I on her breasts. We gradually moved beneath the outer layers, unbuttoning, unzipping, unhooking, always seeking the flesh beneath. Successfully achieving our mutual goals, we began working on the next goal, the ultimate goal. Here we ran into the problem of the goals not aligning but interfering with one another, I wanted to go north and she wanted to go south, the argument was settled when she grabbed me by the balls and swallowed my cock to the root in one glorious thrust! My goal was shelved for the moment as my mind went blank when she repeatedly swallowed, creating what felt like waves caressing in a rhythm Richard Wagner would have been proud of! In far too short of time a crescendo of feelings, sound, and liquid as I erupted into her mouth and down her throat. She looked into my eyes, opened her mouth showing me her mouth full of my essence, then swallowed! I lifted her to my chest, tilting her head back and kissed her in a passionate, prolonged thank you for wonderful performance! I could do that with my own spend, but would never do the same if it had come (cum) from someone else.

Trying to catch my breath, laying with her in my arms, I felt, and I am certain that she also felt, a more profound sense of peace and tranquility than either of us had ever felt before! After resting, and getting my heart rate settled back down, I began to caress and kiss Hannah’s neck and ears. Stopping occasionally to kiss her upper lips and mouth while exchanging spit and entwining tongues. I moved ever downward to assault the previous unreached goal, my hands kneaded, and massaged the main bodies of both breasts, before moving to her nipples which were already erect in anticipation, I rubbed, pulled, and twisted them, before engulfing one into my mouth to use my teeth, lips, and tongue to continue doing the same things, alternating between the left and the right, then back again. Both were always being attended, by either fingers or lips. The other hand continued to the south passing up her pussy to caress her inner thighs and behind her knees then spreading her legs coming back to her pussy I began to transition my assault to this location with occasional forays back up to this pair of pleasure centers. My fingers began to explore keeping my touch light and licking my fingers to keep them somewhat lubricated, her lower lips were swollen and her own lubricant was being manufactured in great quantities. With both hands I spread the lips apart exposing her engorged clit. The view was exquisite, and the smell was as sweet as the smell of a field of alfalfa with the morning dew not yet burned off by the sun. And then the taste as I extended my tongue, running it through the lips to her clit then down again. Treating it the same as I treated her mouth but also sucking, like a goldfish eating its fill of food flakes from the surface, then plunging into the depths looking for morsels trying to escape in the cavern below. My tongue explored her vagina, I added a finger then more moving them in and out hooking them to rub a spot I had found. She had been moving and bucking for awhile now, I began to have a more difficult time keeping in the saddle, so to speak. Moving my mouth to her clit I began sucking while driving my middle finger up her butt. She convulsed in an explosion unmatched by any eruption since the Vesuvius eruption in 79AD (Krakatoa doesn’t happen for another ten years). Then she passed out! My ears were ringing from the volume and the pitch of her screaming. I felt most people were in the dining car or the smoking car, but I did hear a comment from the hall near my door. All I heard was “Lucky bastard!”