Chapter 7: Freedom

I WAS FINDING my color photography class to be very interesting. Everyone in the family loved the slides of Toni in the toy store. Kat was interested because she was doing more oil painting now and didn’t feel the black and white photos were appropriate for her to build her portfolio from. I promised that I’d learn the color work and then take portfolio pictures of her artwork. She showed me her latest, sitting on an easel in her room. It wasn’t quite completed yet, but the person in her reclining nude portrait was definitely Julie Evans, Chris’s sister. And the bed was definitely my sister’s. Wow!

All Toni’s grandparents loved the slides and asked if they could have prints. I promised to figure out what had to be done to get prints. I knew I could just take them to Pro-Color and get prints made, but we were supposed to be learning that in my class. Professor Hyatt had introduced us to Cibachrome printing the previous week, but I wasn’t happy with my first try.

This week, we were going to discuss the weaknesses and would receive another assignment for practicing with color slides.

Leslie looked particularly happy when we walked over to the studio for our study session Tuesday. I was surprised when I got there to find Dora Devine instead of Devon. She was in full cross-dress mode and Leanne had been working on her makeup. She looked terrific. Carrie came in right after I did.

“I asked Dora if she would pose for us today, Nate. We have to have new color slides for our class and Dr. Nader said we should try portraits. It’s something you’re used to, but I haven’t had that much experience. I thought you could show me some things.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ve got an idea.” I motioned to Leanne to consult with her a little and after giggling, she nodded. “Carrie, this would all work better if Leslie and I worked side by side. We really shouldn’t turn in the same subject. Would you go with Leanne and let her do your makeup and dress you to be my model? Leslie has hers.”

“I’d what? Um ... Well, I guess I’m not going to study anything else while you guys are doing this. Sure, I guess.”

Leanne hustled her behind the privacy screen and Leslie and I agreed on a decorative backdrop rather than a solid color. We set one that looked kind of museum-like and positioned two stools in front of it. Dora took her position on the left stool—as the camera looked at it—and we started setting lights. We needed nearly all the lights in the studio for our color photography. It would be interesting because Leslie and I would be shooting different subjects at different angles against the same background.

Carrie appeared with glamor makeup that compared to the way Dora was made up, and was in a very similarly cut dress—meaning that it had a plunging neckline to well below her boobs. She looked quite beautiful in a slightly trashy way.

Leanne helped fine-tune the lighting and we started alternating shots back and forth between Leslie and me.

“Now, Carrie, we have done portraits before. This one will show you in a new light,” I said.

“It sure will.”

“Sit straight and regal. That’s right. Butt just slightly forward on the stool. Tits up, as they say in Las Vegas. Be proud of them. Inhale.”

As I gave her instructions, of course, I directed her with my hands, pushing her butt forward a little and lifting her breasts. She was right with me and smiled big for the camera. Leslie then went to work on Dora, using mostly the same instructions. We progressed with new positions and lighting, even having full length standing portraits. For each shot, I handled Carrie in ways I knew she liked. Leslie copied each and every one.

“You’ve been so good at this,” I said to Carrie as we neared the end of our roll. “Let’s let your costume slip a bit, shall we?”

“For you, anything,” she breathed.

I slid my hand beneath her dress and caressed her breast as I slid the dress off that shoulder and down far enough that her boob was fully out. I played with and pinched her nipple as she sighed. Then I stood back and took the picture. I finished and picked Carrie up to take behind the privacy screen. First, we turned and looked at Leslie and Dora. Leslie did the exact same things I did, exposing Dora’s right breast. I wondered if Devon was taking some kind of hormones. His breast definitely looked puffier than when I’d taken his photo months ago.

Leslie took her photo and playfully kissed Dora’s nipple.

“Like that?” she asked.

“It was great,” Dora responded. “I just kept imagining you were Nate.”

I did make sure that Carrie had a nice orgasm before she dressed in her street clothes and left. I’m afraid Dora had to depend on the kindness of strangers, to quote Blanche.

When Saturday came around, none of my girlfriends wanted me to go alone to Sylvia’s house and they all wanted to go with me. I insisted it was fine and they insisted that I call Uncle Nate. Uncle Nate insisted that he would be my driver. He told me my girlfriends were right and even though she’d made a significant contribution to my art with the Linhof camera, she was still unpredictable. Uncle Nate wanted to make sure I had an ally nearby.

I compromised and Uncle Nate drove me.

I only took my Hasselblad and Nikon cameras with two tripods and five lenses. I also had two umbrella lights. It was too much work to carry the Linhof and its tripod. Handling the film when I was alone was just too difficult without an assistant. I was, however, shooting Ektachrome in the Nikon. Levi had told me he’d send it over to be processed when I took up a roll. It was a little cheaper and a little faster than the Kodachrome. My pictures of Carrie had already been sent in with the rest of our class work.

Uncle Nate and I found Sylvia’s new house in a remote community west of the city. I was glad I wasn’t alone because it was really out in the country in what was called Glen Ellyn. It was twenty-five or thirty miles west of us. Uncle Nate made me ride in the back of his Cadillac and he was dressed as just a driver. We had to pass a security gate in order to get to the house and when Uncle Nate announced us, we were waved through immediately.

At the house, we were met by a guy in a dark suit, not unlike Uncle Nate. He got out to talk to the guy then came back and opened my door. The two men carried my equipment and I straightened my tie before walking up to the open door. The girls had insisted that I go to her home looking professional in a jacket and tie. They’d also cropped my beard and evened up my hair before taking me to the shower and taking turns scrubbing me and washing my hair. I felt like I’d been to a spa and resolved to give each of my girls that experience as soon as I could.

What met me inside was a vision. I entered on a marble floor with three steps up to what looked like the main floor, beyond which were three more steps up to a very large open living room. To the right a staircase led up to a balcony that ran above the steps up to the living room. On the balcony stood Sylvia. She looked stunning in a green evening gown with a deeply plunging neckline. I believe she made exactly the impression she wanted to, but she wasn’t prepared to see my uncle enter behind me with her man, Gary.

“Good evening, Ms. Drummond,” I said. “This is my driver, Mr. Mayer. You may have seen him at some time in the past.”

She seemed to stiffen a bit but recovered quickly.

“Of course. Welcome. Gary, would you show Mr. Mayer where to take the equipment in the living room. The two of you can then retire to the kitchen. I don’t think we’ll do any photographs there,” she said. “Nate, it is a pleasure to welcome you to my new home. Well, new to me. It was built in 1915, but I’ve made sure it was completely updated and modernized. There were a few things that I had to have, you know.”

“I’m sure it is very comfortable, though rather isolated. Let me grab my Hasselblad before you come down. You have a lot of light on in the entry here and the chandelier lights you extremely well there on the balcony. I’d like to get the first picture of you right there.”

I was feeling a lot more comfortable now. I felt like any threat that might have been presented by Sylvia’s killer bodyguard had been neutralized by the presence of Uncle Nate. Maybe there had been no threat there and it had all been my imagination. Regardless, Sylvia waited on the balcony as I got my camera ready and focused on her. The light caught her hair and it seemed to sparkle a little.

“Now how about one as you come down the stairs here,” I suggested. I repositioned myself beneath the balcony and was focused when she reached the landing of the switchback stairs. She paused and smiled. I took the picture.

She descended the rest of the way and came to me for a hug and cheek kisses.

“I’m so glad you were able to do this,” Sylvia said. “I’ve been in this house for two months now and feel I need to mark it as my own, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry I was unable to help you last week. With college and relationships to balance with my studio work, I have to set some firm boundaries.”

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of opportunity to test them,” she laughed. “I will say, I was much more ready for this last week, but I have a bottle of champagne on ice in my bedroom if I need to reinforce my courage. Maybe you’ll join me.”

“I’m not yet twenty-one, so I don’t really imbibe. As long as I know you want to do it and are not impaired, I’m fine with you having a drink.”

We headed into the living room. My lights were on the stands and extension cords ran to them. I looked around for the best places to pose my client and decided this was one for in front of the fire burning in the fireplace.

I knew from experience that Sylvia wanted—perhaps needed—a firm hand and I intended to give it to her. I fastened the camera to the tripod and guided Sylvia to exactly where I wanted her in front of the fire. Her legs were nicely silhouetted beneath her gown.

“You haven’t told me exactly what you want this evening,” I said as I took a shot and repositioned her. I guided her with my hands but didn’t touch anything really intimate. I stepped back behind the camera. I had a feeling we were just getting warmed up with these living room shots, but it was a beautiful room.

“Scandal,” she said. “Since my husband ... died, I’ve been shunned by nearly everyone. This house is made for parties, but no one will come. So, I’ll create as big a scandal as I can and then invite the bottom of society to come and celebrate it. Perhaps you and your girlfriends will want to attend.”

“Nice to know I’m at the bottom of society,” I said. I handled her just a little more roughly as I pushed her to her knees in front of the fireplace. She caught her balance by grabbing hold of my slacks. I looked down at her, frowning. She quickly let go.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered.

“There! I want that look of contrition on your face. People need to know you have been a very bad girl when they see this photo.”

“Will you make sure they see it?” she asked.

“I can’t exactly give it to the newspaper to publish,” I said. “But you are a good-looking woman for your age. Oh, I know you aren’t so terribly old. It must have been a pain to be married to an old man like Ike. I’m glad to see you still have your bodyguard.”

“Oh, that isn’t Leon. Leon is in prison. It turned out he had become rather possessive of me and that was why he shot Ike. Please don’t think I planned my husband’s murder. Yes, he was older, but he kept me supplied with people to satisfy my fetishes. Unfortunately, Leon became too accustomed to satisfying himself with me and thought he owned me,” Sylvia said.

“I hope you don’t make the same mistake with Gary,” I said. “He lives here in the house, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. He has a suite on the second floor. He has never seen the inside of my bedroom. That is not to say I haven’t taken him to the dungeon. But he knows his place.”

To the dungeon? That made some sense. No wonder Sylvia wanted a home so far out in the country and away from everyone. But I was pretty sure she wouldn’t risk losing control of her subordinate again. Hmm. Subordinate. A lot like a submissive. I’d need to be watchful of Sylvia.

“We’ll get some more lurid shots in other areas,” I said, “but I want a little suggestion of it here in front of the fireplace. Let’s loosen this tie and pull your dress off the shoulder.” I matched actions to words and she simply stared at me.

“You’re touching me,” she said flatly. I waited for her verdict without doing more than getting behind the camera to take her picture. “I might need that drink in my room sooner than later.” I snapped the picture.

It was one thing for Sylvia to say she wanted scandalous pictures, but when I pulled her dress aside far enough to expose her left breast, she nearly hyperventilated. Still, she didn’t say a thing, but held very still in the position I put her in.

I took the picture and turned off the lights. I handed her the camera and carried one light and my camera case with me to the master bedroom. I looked around as she waited for me to take the camera and tripod from her.

“Go ahead and pour yourself a drink,” I said. “You are being a good girl and deserve a little reward.”

She poured herself a glass, hesitated, then filled the second glass next to it—perhaps hopeful that I’d imbibe. This was a delicate situation and I knew I didn’t dare lose control myself. It would be too easy for me to become the plaything and her the master.

I went to her closet and sorted through her clothes as she gasped.

“What are you doing?”

“Choosing what I want you in next,” I said. “We’re going to change to night wear for the series here.” I found a transparent nightgown and held it up to her. “I assume this is nightwear, isn’t it? It should nicely show your pretty round tits and your smooth shaved pussy. Is your pussy still shaved smooth?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, gulping the champagne.

“Well? Are you going to remove your dress or should I tear it off of you?”

“No ... I ... will. It’s an expensive gown. I’ll take it off for you. Please, if you would unzip the back?” she said turning away from me. I’d already pulled the zipper part way down to expose her boob in front of the fireplace. I unzipped it the rest of the way, all the way down past the curve of her butt. While I was there, I spent a few seconds squeezing and feeling her butt up.

I got her out of the dress and inspected her. She stood quietly while I just looked at her tits and pussy and ass. I petted her skin and then held the nightgown for her to slip into. It fell around her, hugging her curves, and showing all her bits right through the thin fabric.

“You are keeping yourself trim and fit,” I said approvingly. “Are you some kind of fitness expert?”

“I’m an instructor at the YWCA,” she said. “It’s a good way to stay ... attractive.”

“Yes. I noticed during our first session together that in certain light, you look almost like a teen. Now, let’s get you onto the bed.” I threw back the covers, then picked her up and deposited her in the middle of the huge bed. My entire family could sleep comfortably in a bed this size. I’d have to look into it.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” she asked.

“In your bedroom? Oh, no. I couldn’t do that. Then you’d have to sell this place and move again. You’d have too many unforgettable memories associated with this one,” I said. “When you have a lover who is your lover and not just your photographer, then bring him to your bedroom to fuck. Bedrooms are for people who care, and I wouldn’t care.”

“Oh.”

I moved her around and moved in with the camera, taking pictures of her face against the pillows and then rolling her to her side. I carefully arranged the sheer fabric of her nightgown around her breasts so that just a hint of her nipples showed through. Then I walked into her bathroom.

Holy shit! The focal point was a kind of solarium with a huge round tub in it. Looked like it had whirlpool jets all around it. Long counters with sinks were on either side of the room, one with an entire makeup table built in. The toilet was through another door for complete privacy. The shower was some kind of environmental affair with shower heads sticking out all over. Again, you could have put my whole family in it and we’d have had room to do some serious fucking.

“It seems a shame not to do a few photos in here,” I said. “Come here.” Sylvia immediately jumped off the bed and joined me in the bathroom. “It takes too long to fill a tub, but I like this shower.”

“Can I keep my hair dry?”

“That’s up to you. You know how to work the controls for all these showerheads, don’t you? Can you set them so they miss your face and head?”

“Yes.”

She started to pull her nightgown off and I stopped her.

“Is this valuable or expensive?” I asked.

“Not particularly,” she said. “I’ve had it for years.”

“Good. Leave it on. Go ahead and step into the shower. I want to see this fabric get wet and hug your titties and pussy and ass. Do you understand?” I asked as I caressed her tits, ass, and ran a hand between her legs, pushing the fabric up into her pussy.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

She stepped into the shower and I blocked the door open so I wasn’t shooting through the glass. I nodded and she turned one of the faucets on. A jet of water shot out of the wall, and sprayed her chest. It looked like it was actually designed or set to have a shower without getting face or head wet. I shot frames as the fabric soaked and clung to her body. She turned, holding her hair out of the spray and the fabric clung to the perfect shape of her ass.

Then she got a glint in her eye and I stepped back in case she decided to turn on a spray that shot out the door. Instead, she changed the settings and the spray shut off. Then a pulsing stream shot out from a lower shower head, perfectly directed to hit her pussy. She leaned back against the opposite wall and started pulling her skirt up.

“Stop!” I commanded. “Turn it off.”

She quickly obeyed and stood facing me with that dripping gown clinging to every curve of her body.

“I thought you’d like seeing me get off under the water. Wouldn’t it make a good picture?”

“It will make a great picture, but with a couple of adjustments.”

I set the camera on the counter behind me and grabbed the neck of her gown. This fabric was a lot flimsier than the ribbed neck of a T-shirt. I pulled hard and it tore right down the front. I kept tearing until the opening was below her pussy. I spent a minute playing with her nipples and stroking her pussy. It was very slippery.

“You like getting off in your shower, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Then go ahead. Now the water should hit directly. Hold the torn gown as if you’ve just torn it in your desperation to get the water pounding against your pussy. Go ahead, turn it on.”

The water came on and Sylvia returned to her position leaning back against the wall. She held the torn pieces aside so her breasts were exposed and her pussy was open to the direct pulsing stream of water. I noticed she was pinching her nipples, as well. I took the last frame and then reached into the shower and turned it off.

“Oh!” she cried. Her hand moved down to her pussy. I slapped it away.

“Don’t come,” I commanded.

She was panting. I set the camera aside and reached into the shower to pull the nightgown off her arms and push it down over her hips until it let loose and dropped to the shower floor. I grabbed an extremely large towel from the rack next to the shower and called her to me.

“Now, let’s get you dry and all ready for the next scene.” I gently dried her, caressing her breasts and running my fingers up between her legs to feel her hot pussy and her asshole. “We’ll get around to how you look when you are helplessly coming and can’t stop,” I said. “Where to for the next scene? Upstairs?”

“No. There is nothing up there. Gary’s rooms are on the far side over the kitchen. There’s a stair over on that side so he can go up and down without coming through the main living area.”

“How nice for him.”

She ignored my dig.

“I think the dungeon is next. There is a stairway down from my sitting room in there.”