Scheherazade Nights Ch. 04

"Yeah."

The wicked grin was on Debbie's face now. "The leather collar and cuffs that I said were for me? You probably didn't see, but there were also ankle cuffs, this wicked belt with fasteners on it, and some chains...sure, I'll tell you about that day!"

"You will?" Claire said, a bit surprised.

"Did I mention some kind of nipple clamps, a blindfold and a whip...Margery didn't show us those, but I asked her and she got them for me."

"Debbie!"

"You probably want me to pull down my pants and let you see the welts on my ass from the spankings."

"Oh my God, Debbie, now I know you're shitting me!" Claire said.

"Hehe, about the spankings, yes I am. But the rest...no, I'm not."

Her friends just looked at her, dumbfounded.

"Oh, the look on your faces! I should just string you along on this, but I won't..."

- - - - -

I felt John get out of bed, heard the toilet flush and the shower start up. He came out a while later in just his boxers.

"Is there any reason I should bother putting on any clothes?" he asked. His voice had an edge...not all the way to sullen, but certainly not happy. I knew he was thinking about the things he had seen and was a little unnerved at the thought of me using them on him. But I also knew that the real cause of his mood was that he was thinking about the fact that he had asked me to put this off. He just wasn't in the right frame of mind--playful, trusting, confident--that might allow him to view what he thought was coming as an adventure.

I debated...again...telling him about the day. On one hand, the surprise was a part of it and his misconceptions might actually make the surprise a bit bigger. On the other, I wanted him to have fun today, too, and that meant I couldn't leave him thinking he was heading for some bondage thingy.

I got up, gave him a hug, keeping morning breath turned away from him. "Of course you should get dressed. We're going out later. Nice slacks and a dress shirt would be perfect." I leaned back and pinched his chin between my fingers. "I know you think you have an image of what today is going to be, and I know you're not happy about it because you're still angry from yesterday. So, listen!

"I don't want to tell you about today until it starts, but I'm asking you to just go with the flow and trust me that it's not what you think. Will you do that? I love you very much and I'm not going to ruin your day."

Eventually, he nodded. "Love you, too," he said, not happy, but meaning it.

...

We drove out to Rosemont to a place I had found on the Web. I had talked to the owner a couple of weeks ago. I had driven out last weekend to check out the place, meet the owner and drop off things. I took John in through the back door...

- - - - -

"Actually," Debbie said, "I think I'm telling this wrong."

"Well, you haven't told us anything so far!" Anne laughed.

"Hardy har har, aren't you the funny one!" Debbie wrinkled her nose. "Seriously, if you want to know what this was like, I think I need to tell the first part of it from John's perspective."

"John's? But this was your fantasy, right?" Claire asked.

"Yup!"

"Hmm..."

"Should we get John back here to tell it?" Anne asked.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen!" Debbie laughed. "He's hightailed off to the movies with the guys.

"Anyway, I know how it went for him and I found out what he was thinking later, so..."

- - - - -

...Debbie took me through the door into this dimly lit room. It was fairly large, maybe 30 or more feet across to another door. To my right was a large curtain hung from the ceiling. She led me over to a chair, next to a big video screen, and sat me down.

"Relax."

"John, have you ever had a fantasy where you didn't think the reality would match the imagination?"

I nodded. Of course, hadn't everyone on the planet?

"Okay." Her hands went up to her blouse and she started to unbutton it. She saw how much this disconcerted me and smiled, her fingers continuing down the front.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Getting ready. There's a fantasy I've had since I was about 20 years old." I saw a sheer red bra peek out from below the blouse. "I've never regretted not trying it at the time; the reality would have been a mistake. However, I've also never forgotten it."

"Sophomore year, two years before we met..." Her hands went to the waistband of her skirt, opening the snap and sliding the zipper down, letting it drop to the floor. Red panties also.

"Recruiters came..." She shrugged the blouse off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor also.

"Playboy recruiters. Today, I'm going to do the photo shoot I was apprehensive of doing then...and you're going to get to watch."

She raised her voice, "Liz?" and a woman came out from behind the curtain: dark hair, slender, maybe about 40, friendly looking. "This is my husband, John. John, this is Liz. She's a photographer who does mostly boudoir work. It's her studio."

Liz walked over to me and shook my hand as I stood up. "Hi, John. Debbie and I have talked a bit and I think I know what she wants, including that you get to enjoy the show. It's not often the guys are here, but we can certainly go along with that and I think you'll have fun. Especially with the types of photos Debbie has asked for." She grinned as she said that.

"Nice to meet you." I was too surprised to offer much more than that. The little twinkle in her eye let me know she understood.

"Here's how it will go. Debbie is going to come with me for a moment and let the makeup people give her the right look. After that, we'll do the first set of shots. Then she'll change and we'll do the second, and so on.

"Poke your head in here a second." She pulled open the curtain and I saw a photography set. To the left the wall was covered in a flowing white scrim, to the right a bright green, curved screen that came down and covered the floor, also. Lots of lights. There was a love seat in front of the white scrim and various other props shoved into the corners, including a bed, a wooden bench and various boxes of stuff I couldn't make out.

"When I take a picture, the camera sends it over to that computer via Wi-Fi," she said, pointing to a desk at the side of the set, "where it gets evaluated, a background added if we use the green screen.

"If we think the picture is a keeper, we will then send it to the monitor out there where you can see it. There will be arrow buttons you can click to scroll back and forth as we get a bunch. Good so far?"

I nodded.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask that you don't poke your head in or call out while we're shooting. I find that women look better when they're focused on me and the staff, not distracted by things outside the set."

"I understand."

"Okay then. We'll have drinks on the table out there in a moment; the men's room is just outside that door--there will be about 15 minutes between sets of photos if you need a break." She smiled and ducked through the curtain.

Debbie looked at me, "We okay to do this today?"

"Yes," I smiled.

"Good!" She slipped through the curtain, then stuck her head back out.

"Enjoy the show!" she mouthed silently, winked, and followed Liz.

...

Indistinct voices murmured to each other for a bit, then I saw the lights flash behind the curtain. They flashed a few more times, voices talking continuously. No pictures yet. More flashes.

A picture appeared on the monitor. Debbie as I'd last seen her, red bra and panties, with the addition of red spike heels and lipstick, draped back across the arm of the love seat. Her face was tilted back, hair draping down the side, one arm trailing to the floor, the other resting on the back, rear foot bent and resting on the other arm of the love seat, front leg fallen down to the floor in abandon. Her eyes were lidded, mouth slightly open.

The background was shades of light gray, the chair a darker counterpoint beneath her...the only real color in the picture her body and the red she was wearing.

A woman who had just had sex...no, she had too many clothes on...a woman dreaming about having sex.

Flash!

The same pose, but now a hand cupped a breast.

Flash!

The other hand creeping down into the upper band of her panties.

Flash! Flash!

More images filled the screen.

There was a pause.

Flash!

Now on her stomach, cheek on the arm of the chair, face turned toward the camera. Bra gone, breasts pressed against the seat, flattening toward the viewer, front arm gripping the underside of the seat, back arm lost to view.

Flash!

Face curled down to the shoulder, brow furrowed in concentration.

Flash!

Eyes open now, staring out, but not really seeing, mouth wide open...as if panting.

Flash! Flash!

The voices stopped. I stared at the last image on the screen: still face down, body limp and soft, eyes staring straight out of the picture, both arms reaching down beneath her body, slid inside her panties.

Laughter. Liz stepped through the curtain, a book in her hand. "Well?" she asked with a smile.

"Wow!"

"Hehe, she did well. It took us a couple pictures for her to relax enough but she was much easier to work with than many people. Are you having fun out here?"

"Umm, I think 'Wow!' pretty much sums it up!"

She laughed. "Good!"

She held up the book. "You have a job during breaks.

"We do various things with the pictures. Some customers want a single big picture for their husband to hang in their bedroom. Others want a bunch of digital images on disk. One woman even wanted us to put together all the files for a Web site. She uploaded them, put a password on it and then gave her husband his own, private porn site." She laughed, "I liked that one. I may start advertising it.

"Anyway, Debbie wants a magazine. Once she picks the final images, we'll have them printed up and bound by a guy who does glossy stuff for corporate printings." She saw the hesitant look on my face. "Don't worry; I've worked with this printer for over a decade. He's totally discreet and, even so, I'm literally standing there the whole time it's done, making sure everything is erased once it's finished. I've done this before and I'd never risk ruining my business.

"Debbie picked a couple of scene types that she wants to do. She'd like you to pick one more that you really want. This is a gallery book showing samples." She showed me dividers with names like Glamour, Elegant, Naughty, Vintage, Playful. "It's not a specific picture you're looking for, since we may not be able to take that exact one, depending on what props are here and what clothing she brought. Look for a general mood. For example, the ones you just saw would be similar to these." She turned to a section labeled Indulgent; I saw eight or ten pictures, all conveying a mood similar to the one I had just seen.

"Is she going to end up in this book?"

"Don't worry. Some of those are professional models. Some are staff here. Most are pictures I'm really happy with of ordinary women like Debbie. But no one...absolutely no one...goes in that book unless I've gotten a written, signed release from them for each specific picture. Same for anything on my Web site or photos hung out front."

"Okay. Which did she choose already?"

She smiled and shook her head, "She wants to surprise you a bit. Make a list of five or six in order. Cross off any that come up. We'll use the top one left at the end."

I nodded and started at the beginning of the book.

...

I paged through the book, making entries on a list, crossing them off as ones I liked better showed up. I saw a section called Dark Desires, my mind recalled the equipment I had seen a couple days ago and my apprehension about it. I laughed.

I looked at the first photo there, past the dark eye shadow and mascara and the brilliant lipstick. Shook my head with a touch of surprise.

More lights got turned on behind the curtain. I heard some stuff being dragged around.

Flash!

It must have been shot in front of the green screen. A background had been added using a computer.

Nothing coy about this one. Debbie lay on the beach towel, sand all around her, other figures blurred in the background, sunning herself, topless.

Flash!

On her stomach, leaning up on her elbows reading a book, breasts hanging down delightfully, bare bottom.

Flash!

Sitting up, one breast glistening, the hand rubbing oil on the other.

Flash! Flash!

Leaning back on one elbow, other hand shading her eyes as she looked up at whoever was talking to her, sand coating her breasts from where she had laid in it, legs slightly apart, back one cocked.

...

A break. "Half an hour!" I heard Liz call. Maybe it takes time to get oil off, I thought and smiled. I took the opportunity to hit the head and get another cup of coffee, stretch my legs a bit.

...

Flash!

I laughed, and crossed Playful off my list.

A library? Books covering the wall, dimly lit by a floor lamp. Rich carpet on the floor. Leather chair in the background.

Blue blazer with crest on the pocket, white shirt, plaid skirt...definitely shorter than would have been allowed!...white thigh high stockings, pumps that were definitely big girl but had the Mary Jane patent leather look.

Flash!

Right side view, the blazer discarded, blouse unbuttoned a couple, weight on her left leg, right bent very slightly, head peering down as her left hand reached over and held up the side of her skirt, the right hand adjusting her stocking. Flash of some brightly striped panties, playful colors...probably frowned on by the nuns.

Flash!

Closer now, waist up only. Eyes looking directly into the camera. Blouse unbuttoned down to where it disappeared into the skirt, the inner curves of breasts peeking out through the opening.

Flash! Flash!

Bent over the desk, eyes peering back over her shoulder. Playful, indeed!

...

Flash!

The image I had been half-expecting for a while showed up. Kneeling, legs apart, corset, stockings and heels. Scarlet lips, eyes heavy with dark shadow. Breasts bare, the dark hair between her legs exposed, wrists encased in cuffs locked to the collar so that her hands were held behind her head. Back straight, shoulders and elbows back, mouth open, staring straight ahead, vulnerable.

Long pause. Flash!

Still kneeling, arms stretched upward and outward by chains attached to the wrists, ribs raised, breasts thrust forward by the motion.

Long pause. Flash!

Standing straight, legs spread with knees stiff. The corset gone, replaced with a cupless leather bra that lifted her breasts, almost presenting them, red tassels attached to her nipples. Fishnet stockings, eyes hidden behind a blindfold, wrists fastened to a belt at her waist.

Long pause. Flash!

I stared at the last picture. I hadn't heard a sound, so I knew...would have known anyway, regardless of whether I could hear or not...knew it was just makeup...but it was still a powerful image.

Shadowed. A view three quarters from the back, from just below the shoulder blades to mid-thigh. Arms curled behind her back, fastened with cuffs separated by a short chain. Across one cheek of her bottom, a red line, straight as an arrow. Forming the foreground corner of the picture, a hand...feminine, long nails, delicate...holding a riding crop.

I stared at it--surprised, disturbed...was that a tiny bit of dark arousal at my center?...disturbed.

...

Liz came out a few minutes later, looked at me.

"Whew!" I said.

"Yeah," she said. "It's a very powerful visual, no matter what your tastes are. Debbie will have to decide how much she wants printed." She laughed, lightening the mood, subtly reassuring me and herself, "Everyone gets the whole package of those feelings every time we do that kind of shoot...we just call it Ira...for Ids Run Amok."

"Debbie's in scrubbing off that makeup. Do you have your list?" I handed it to her. She looked at it.

"I see your first is crossed off," she said mischievously, her face letting me know it was all a tease. "Why am I not surprised?"

I grinned, a bit self-consciously...it had been Playful. She winked at me. Then I smiled at her, winked back, and let her gallery book flip open to the first Dark Desires page...her face staring out above the studded collar...raised my eyebrow.

"Okay, okay," she laughed, "you win!"

"You're not alone in that choice, anyway. More women ask for Playful photos than you can believe. So, what's next?"

She looked at my second choice, still not crossed off, read the note by it that described what had not been in her gallery book. "I like that. In fact, that would make a great cover."

Flash! Flash!

Black background. Debbie sitting on a floor you can't see, facing directly into the lens, the bold makeup gone, replaced with soft colors. Her legs are pulled in, knees together, upright straight in front of her, her arms wrapped around them. On her head is a bridal veil, in her hands a bouquet of flowers, the rest of her is naked. It's all suggestion, nothing is visible...the ankles, legs and flowers carefully, oh-so-barely, blocking sight lines. She was beautiful.

...

Liz stuck her head out. "John, would you come in for a moment?"

I walked in; there was another woman standing there; Debbie was nowhere to be seen. "We have one more shot to do. It's going to be the centerfold of the book. The picture she'd like to do has you in it. You game?"

I was surprised. "Ummm, what is it?"

"All you have to do is stand over there," she pointed to the green screen, "and let her kiss you," she smiled. "Okay?"

"I guess."

"Good. Go with Amanda here and she'll get some makeup on you so you don't look washed out.

...

When I came back, "Stand right here. Hold this in your left hand. When she reaches you..."

...

I saw her walk in from behind a curtain in the corner.

High heels but, otherwise, naked as the day she was born. A wicked little grin on her face. Totally relaxed. She came up to me and said, her voice low and husky, "Hi, honey," stepped in closer, hip bumping mine, hands reaching out to touch me as her lips came up.

I saw the lights starting to strobe, then they faded from my awareness as her mouth touched mine and her tongue snaked between my lips.

...

Her lips broke away as I heard Liz say, "Yep, that'll do!"

Debbie glanced down at the front of my pants, giggled a little, kept her body between me and the camera, whispered, "Maybe you need a moment," then out loud, "Liz, we'll go get the makeup off."

I looked over; Liz and Amanda had their heads politely turned away, looking at the computer screen. Liz said over her shoulder, "Debbie can show you where the cold cream and wipes are."

...

I looked at the picture. I was standing there, just inside the doorway, briefcase in my left hand, my right arm curved around her waist, holding the small of her back...a man just home from work.