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Have you ever met someone so unpredictable that they take your breath away? Not in the “psychotic, never sure if they’ll attack you” sort of way but in a way that makes your head spin as you try to keep up. It’s exhilarating, and almost terrifying, that an offhand comment about something new can bring up so many thoughts and possibilities.
I have. I’ve come to realize that she probably owns my soul, if notquite my heart. She doesn’t own my body, though. Or if she does, she’s given me free reign to express my desire elsewhere as long as I return to her from time to time. Come to think of it, that sounds a bit closer to the mark. After all, I can only really think about allowing myself to be with those few women who approached me at her suggestion.
For most men, it would probably be a fatal blow to their precious pride to realize they jump like Pavlov’s dogs when a woman calls to set up an assignation. I don’t care. When Vanessa called to say she had an idea for a shoot, I leapt at the opportunity. Not only has she become a creative (not to mention beautiful and seductive) model but we often follow up our photo sessions with vigorous rounds of sex.
(Yes. “Rounds”. Plural! When you’re in your mid-forties, somewhat overweight and balding, like me, multiple times in succession are something to crow about.)
I didn’t exactly jump in the car the moment we got off the phone but that was mostly because she called me at work. Too bad that meant I’d have a boner for the rest of the day thinking about what she had come up with this time. Just to drive me wild. Thankfully, she’d suggested I come over for the shoot the moment I got out. Since I already had my camera, a handful of lenses, and lights in the car it was a simple enough request to accept.
I’ve never really been into cosplay. Sure, I can appreciate it as an expressive outlet. Not to mention I get just as turned on by the women in spandex, leather, vinyl, and/or latex as the next guy. I’ll even admit I had my share of fantasies about Carrie Fisher in the slave outfit, back when Return of the Jedi came out. But all of that has never really led me to go out to conventions in search of the best costumes to photograph.
However, when Vanessa mentioned an interest in doing a shoot to model the outfit she’d put together, for the next ‘con’, I was more than willing to oblige. After all, I never knew what I would get when we set up a shoot. The only certain thing would be that we’d have some fun, whether or not we got it on.
In part, I was intrigued to find out what kind of costume she had come up with. For all the power she had developed over me, I’d only known her for about a year. I didn’t even know her all that well; beyond the carnal knowledge and the photo shoots. I had no idea what she’d dressed up as for Halloween costumes last year, for example.
The costume a person wears can tell you a lot about them. This is especially true for women since, on a guy, it might simply mean they’re to whipped to say no when their significant other demands they match and goes to the effort of finding or making it in his size.
I knew Vanessa wasn’t going to be one of those types who threw on a hat and boots and calls herself a fisherman. Anything she did, she threw herself into it with exuberance. Whatever it was, it would certainly have the authenticity and attention to detail that a Hollywood studio would envy.
No. It waswho she chose that was the intriguing mystery. And the only way I’d discover that would be to see in person.
The thought of her costume wasn’t the only thing to inspire anticipation. For all the times we’d worked together, and all of our more intimate sessions, this was the first time I’d been invited to her place. She’d been over to my house a couple of times for shoots, since I had a nice acre of land with woods that formed a pleasant backdrop, but I’d never been there. It didn’t bother me. I’d never been to any of my models’ places. It was generally an unspoken rule that a model shouldn’t let a photographer that close to her life just in case he turns out to be disreputable.
Vanessa might only be a sophomore in college but she lived off-campus. I’d never before thought about her financial status but it dawned on me then that she had to be at least comfortably well off because she lived alone in an apartment. Myself, during those formative years, I’d been forced to share the rent in order to make ends meet. And I came from a solidly middle-class background.
When I knocked, her mezo-soprano voice drifted through the wall that it was open so I announced myself and let myself in. I immediately complied when she suggested, from somewhere deeper in the apartment, that I lock the door. She trusted me enough to go alone to a shoot at my house, it wasn’t a big surprise she’d allow herself to be locked in a room with me.
The room was relatively Spartan. Across from the door was a single window that let in a pathetic amount of light. Along one wall sat a futon with deep green sheets covering it. eryaman gerçek escort numaları Across from that was a decent entertainment center and a doorway that led into a tiny kitchen and, presumably, the rest of the apartment since her voice had come from that general direction. I sat on the couch and waited for her to be ready.
“Okay! Come on back!”
I stood up and followed her voice through the doorway to the kitchen. Not that I had to follow anything, really. The kitchen was the size of a postage stamp and opened into a six foot long corridor that had a bathroom off the side (even smaller than the kitchen) and opened into what could only be the bedroom. I could already see the light from a window along the same wall as in the kitchen and living room and the corner of a very sturdy looking queen-sized bed.
I stopped just inside the room and glanced down at the bed. Sure enough, Vanessa lounged in all her glory in a pose reminiscent of Carrie Fisher in her memorable costume from Return of the Jedi. For a moment, I thought she was naked but then I recognized the costume for what it was.
“You’re allowed in a convention like that?” I asked, incredulous.
She nodded. “Hell, there’s some characters that can only be done with body paint. If they’re modest, the women actually wear a nude bikini bottom and paint over that. Some just wear the paint.”
I chuckled, imagining it. I found myself growing hard just thinking about it. That was something I hadn’t thought to do for a shoot. Unfortunately, I didn’t know any artists skilled enough to paint a model. Of course, it was always possible one of the models did. It was something to consider.
“Prism, right?” I asked in confirmation of her costume. The huge grin that spread across her face was answer enough.
Although it had been decades since I followed comic books, I vaguely remembered her. She could shoot a rainbow-colored ray from her hands. In the Eighties, when comics suddenly decided to include scientific realism, it had come out the beam was actually a fine mist of radioactive crystals.
Personally, I thought it was a thin attempt to connect her lightshow to her other marked power, not to mention her unusual attire. In addition to the beam, she had the ability to manifest objects out of crystal. As a result, she carried a long thin crystal spear and wore what amounted to a two-piece bathing suit made of the same material. Fan-boys knew exactly which pages of which issues the artists had discreetly shown her tits and genitals through the refraction in the crystal bra and bikini. Of course, the publisher always insisted it was nothing more than a smudge on the press.
I couldn’t begin to figure out how Vanessa had imitated the costume! The corkboard on the wall, filled with posters and pin-ups of her favored character, demonstrated the level of study she’d poured into the design, however. Unlike the artists, however, she’d made sure the mock-crystals were semi-opaque. It was no more revealing than most lace underwear.
“I’m impressed!” I admitted. I was, too. I might not follow cosplay but there was no way I could miss the time and effort that must have gone into the outfit’s creation.
“Thanks!” She beamed bright enough to have those rainbow blasts of her own. “I’m really proud of it. Nobody ever does her, so I can be sure I’m the only one there. At the same time, she’s popular enough that I don’t have to worry about recognition.”
I nodded. I could see that. As much as I might have enjoyed standing there and absorbing all of that exposed flesh, I could do that just as easily from behind my camera. While I had great respect for her dedication, I wasn’t all that interested in the details that surrounded it and I had a feeling she’d give a long explanation if I allowed her to.
“So what were you thinking for a shoot? A couple of basic shots then a series of pinups?” If she just wanted to catalogue the costume, she could have done that on her own. I figured I was there for the sexy stuff.
“Pretty much. Though, I think I have a surprise for you.” She spun from her pose and bounced off of the bed. “Come on. We’ll start in the living room. You can set up the lights while I get everything else ready.”
The enigmatic response intrigued me. Vanessa was nothing if not surprising. Not only had she seduced me, when I’d been adamant about the ‘hands off the models’ rule, but then she’d started talking me up among other women I worked with. She’d single-handedly resurrected my long-dead sex life and made sure I had a harem to boot! So I generally found I looked forward to anything she could dream up.
She waved me towards the empty corner by the main door when we reached the living room. While she vanished into the tiny closet next to the front door, I shrugged and began to set up for an indoor shoot. Soft lighting, with a single pinpoint spot on the floor off to one side. Usually it hung on a stand and pointed into a diffusion umbrella but I figured it would work best to capture sincan escort the facets of the crystalline outfit.
I might enjoy her surprises but that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious. She usually waited until I was already shooting to spring them on me, when my focus was so completely on the digital screen in front of me that a truck could blindside me and I’d never see it coming. This time, I wanted to catch a glimpse before she was ready.
I needn’t have bothered. There was no way I could have missed the seven-foot metal pole she fished out of the closet. I suspected that it was somehow a portable stripper pole because she quickly extended it to brace between the floor and ceiling. While that was intriguing enough, the impressive part was that she’d somehow managed to paint or otherwise decorate it to match her outfit!
“I have a proper spear prop in the bedroom.” Vanessa explained with a shy smile. “When I was dreaming up the costume, though, it dawned on me that if she could make a spear, she could stick it in the ground and turn it into a pole. In fact, in ‘Diamonds Don’t Last Forever’, issue number three, she does that in order to six-one-nine the robber.”
The bemused smile that spread across my face couldn’t be helped. She’d gone a little geeky there but it lent her an innocence that worked for her. Besides, I couldn’t deny that the pole idea would make for incredible poses. I had to assume she knew at least a little of how to use it.
As it turns out, I was a little optimistic in that assumption. She was more than game for the attempt but the moves didn’t come anywhere near as natural as they should. The result was a super-heroine trying her best to be seductive but succeeding only in inspiring through the attempt. Of course, I could easily imagine that Samantha (as I think is the secret identity of the character in question) probably didn’t have any more experience than poor Vanessa. After all, she was an administrative assistant, or something, in her normal life.
Vanessa was so excited about the concept that I did something else I never did during a shoot. I relented to pull out my laptop and downloaded the set then and there to review with my model. As we looked through them, I quickly realized that the slight awkwardness actually worked for the pictures.
The lighting emphasized the difference between crystals and flesh but the expressions and poses showed a heroine who was human at her core. She might be comfortable exposing so much of her body as a distraction to her villains (and what a distraction that would be!) but it was a different matter entirely when confronted with someone she wanted to impress. It was the type of imagery that only the best artists would be able to draw into the panels of a book and most wouldn’t even think of it.
Both of us declared satisfaction over the first series and she suggested we retire to the bedroom for the usual bed-side pin-ups. By the time I moved the couple of stands of lighting, she was once more propped on the bed. I started snapping away at once. A few shots and she’d change poses. We’d done this often enough it was no longer a shock how easily it came to her, considering that it hadn’t been that long ago that she thought sexy nudes were supposed to be wide-kneed crotch shots with her fingers opening herself wide.
“I know your dastardly plan!”
I nearly missed her comment, as she flipped her hair over a shoulder with a twist of her head. The camera had caught the action mid-movement and her hair seemed to float on a breeze. As usual, she’d chosen to wait until I was distracted by the shot. This time, however, it nearly worked against her as I almost failed to realize she’d spoken something other than random banter.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I answered honestly.
Vanessa looked over her shoulder, right at me. She knelt with her legs wide apart to emphasize the thin strand of jewels that comprised the entirety of her thong and similar strap of her bra. Her hands gripped the spear in front of her and gave the overall impression that she was prepared for a fight but only just realized the danger lay behind her.
“Your plan. You invited me here under the pretense of taking my picture so you could get me close enough to spring your trap. But it’s not going to work. You’ll fall like all of the criminals before you!”
I’m a little slow sometimes (okay, frequently, when it comes to sex and the relevant games). It took most of the way through her obviously prepared speech before I realized that we’d just stepped from shoot mode into fun. The fact that we’d never role-played before didn’t matter. Her costume had inspired her towards new experiences.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t exactly sure what scenario she’d dreamed up. Proper role-play requires both participants to be on the same page in order to work. Was I supposed to plead innocence and have her fall for me in embarrassment? Should I play the suave villain who charismatically mixes words with her until she’s uncertain batıkent escort of my motives (and not so incidentally talks her out of her diamond underwear) or should I go for force and get soundly trounced?
I set my camera on the desk, prepared for almost anything when she not only answered my unspoken confusion but also directed my next actions.
“What is that?” Her eyes widened in an imitation of horror as she stared at my hand. I looked down and instantly recognized what could only be a prop; a rugged shard of unrefined metal. Even before she continued, I knew what I was supposed to do.
“Iridium? No! Keep it away from me! How’d you possibly find out?” I advanced with the lump of metal held before me, my other hand dramatically at the small of my back.
The metal in question sapped Prism of her powers. In its presence, she even had to banish her own crystals for fear of irradiating herself. Otherwise, her missing immunity to radiation would not protect her from the dangerous levels contained within her own spear…or outfit.
Vanessa slumped dramatically onto the bed. The spear rolled off the far side while a flick of her fingers released a catch that held on the bra. She slid bonelessly to the edge of the bed and her feet spilled over. Somehow, the micro-bikini vanished during the transition.
The end result was certainly enticing. Completely naked, she half-lay on the bed. Her legs sprawled to the floor in a convincing imitation of weakness. The pose left her bare butt and crotch exposed and practically begging for me.
“No…please…you can’t do this…” Her voice was weak with feigned horror. Most importantly, she hadn’t told me to stop. We’d come to an ardent agreement, long before, that it was all she had to say if something was wrong or she was uncomfortable. I hadn’t really expected to ever need a safe word, but I’m known for contingency planning. Holdover from Boy Scouts decades before.
I carefully placed the lump of metal on her back to impress her helplessness on her. She flailed about slightly in a vain attempt to dislodge it. In the process I saw her discreetly toss the vanished thong aside. Clearly, she wanted to play the strong warrior brought low to become the helpless maiden. In the scenario, she wouldn’t be a maiden for long as I took ruthless advantage of her weakened state.
It was time. She wanted to try something new. She just didn’t realize quite how far I was willing to go.
Over time, I’d noticed that Vanessa had a fascination with BDSM. She’d witnessed me bind and dominate another woman (completely voluntarily, though it’s a tale for another time). I’d seen the flash of fear in her eyes then but I’d also seen the stir of excitement it caused. She’d wanted to try it but wasn’t sure if she was ready.
The scenario she’d concocted, whether she realized it or not, was her way of working her way into the request. I wasn’t about to try to actually dominate her, andI don’t really enjoy either aspect of pain, but I could give her a little taste. I could emphasize the feeling of helplessness she currently only pretended to feel.
My hand slid down her bare back and over her soft, round, butt. The whimper sounded real, when my thumb came less than an inch away from more sensitive parts, but she continued with her careful denials. I watched her muscles clench when she realized I was going to continue to avoid direct contact. Her need to pretend helplessness demanded that I be forceful, not gentle. Too bad my hand continued to glide smoothly down her leg.
Vanessa’s head whipped around fast enough that the lump of metal fell off her back. Her supposed helplessness was gone in an instant and her body practically hummed with tension. Her body froze as she desperately tried to figure out whether the cuffs I’d just used to lock her ankle to the foot of the bed was a good thing or not. I used the moment of indecision to shift to her other ankle and lock that one to the headboard.
I stood up slowly, watching her carefully. While potentially torturous, my lazy attitude also afforded her time to work things through. She had to first come to grips with the fact that she was nowtruly helpless. Once she did, she had to decide if I’d gone too far.
While she tried to get her mind in gear (it’s not often I manage to surpriseher for a change) I slipped around the corner into the bathroom. Undoubtedly it stalled the process as she tried to figure out what else I was up to. She still didn’t know when I returned with two of the softest towels I’d ever laid my hands on.
Time was almost up for her to make up her mind. Her eyes followed me as I slowly navigated around the bed and crouched on the other side. They only widened when I reached out and took her hand. It wasn’t until I began to tie the end of the towel, that wasn’t wrapped around the bed frame, around her wrist that she truly understood, however.
“No…please…you can’t do this…” She tried for weak and helpless once more but it didn’t work this time. There were genuine nerves involved now, no little fear and a sense of excitement neither of us could deny. Not only had she failed to provide the safe word, rather than fight against me, her free hand reached around to fruitlessly swat at the lump of iron-cum-iridium.
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