Photographs of a Friend

Claire's work kept her busy most weekends. We had seen each other for a few fleeting hours over the previous weeks, and in the hours we could have been together but she was away, our relationship was beginning to seem a little pointless. But one Friday night she came up with a suggestion.

'Would you like to come on a shoot with me tomorrow? I'm doing a private portrait session for some friends, and I could do with an assistant.'

I wasn't too sure. From what I'd heard, photographers' assistants got some pretty boring jobs; it would be a lot of standing around while Claire asked someone to sit a little differently, or turning a light through a couple of degrees. Claire obviously noticed the expression on my face.

'You don't need to look so unimpressed. It will be interesting; besides, it will only take an hour or so and Anne has promised to take us out for lunch afterwards. She's got a lovely place in the country and you'll like her and Nicole very much. All I need you to do is hold my spare cameras and pass me up new film.'

I was still unconvinced, but Anne was insistent. Besides, it would be a chance to spend the day with her and otherwise I'd be stuck at home. I wondered about what sort of 'friends' Anne and Nicole were. I'd heard Claire mention Anne before- they'd been at college together. Or something, I couldn't remember. I was still a bit distracted that night when we made love. Claire just held me close; the warmth of her body nestled into mine slowly dissolved the tension. I couldn't help it. I was falling in love with her. I knew instantly that I couldn't not go with her. I needed to be with her.

We set out for the country early on Saturday morning. It wasn't even light. Claire had said that Anne wanted to be photographed in the dawn light. Claire took us on her motorbike, filling the panniers with cameras, film and spare clothes for me. She'd lent me her spare leathers and helmet. She was slimmer than me, so the leathers didn't even fit over my skinny jeans and t-shirt. I just packed them, hoping I would be able to change at Anne's. Once I'd got used to it, he feeling of the leather on my skin was almost comforting. I'd never ridden pillion before, and the feeling was deeply erotic. Claire rode fast on the empty roads. I just held on tightly round her waist, trusting her with my life. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Even through my tiredness, I could feel the thrill of the speed, and the musky scent of the leather mingled with hot metal and oil filled my consciousness. I lost all track of where we were going, but eventually, dawn was just breaking as Claire pulled onto a long tree-lined avenue which led to a grand stone building.

Claire turned off the engine and pulled her helmet off. In a film, she'd have shake out her long hair, but she'd had it freshly cut a few days before. It was bobbed, just under shoulder length and casually pulled back into a pony tail. It was my turn to shake out my hair, which I did, feeling less glamorous than suddenly a bit cramped and very sleepy. Claire was already at the door and ringing the doorbell.

'This is beautiful. What does your friend do to live here?'

'It's not as grand as it looks. She was sort of given the flat by her ex-boyfriend,' Claire whispered, 'he was a property developer and infatuated with her. I'm not sure what happened. I think he left the country soon after they split up. It took her a while to get over it, but I'm sure the flat helped.'

The door opened and a tall, woman with olive skin and dark hair, plaited carefully into a single long pigtail stepped out. She was immaculately dressed, a dark brown shift dress, high brown leather riding boots. She laughed and embraced Claire, kissing either cheek.

'And you must be Abigail! Claire has told me so much about you.'

I blushed, deeply. She kissed me on either cheek. What had Claire told her about me? That we were lovers? That she had bound, gagged and ravished me?

'I'm Anne. Do come in, I have coffee ready for you.' I was only just beginning to notice her accent. It was European, French, possibly.

Claire opened the panniers, passing me the small holdall with my clothes in, and picked up the two boxes of cameras. I followed her into the house. In the living room was another woman, shorter than Anne, and probably a little heavier. She was blonde and utterly beautiful. She rose to her feet as we entered the room.

'Abigail, this is Nicole, Nicole, Abigail.'

She looked a little shy, but put her arms out and kissed my left cheek. She was wearing a dressing gown of dusky pink silk.

'Can I please...' Holding up the holdall, I started, but Anne just motioned to a door

'Just through the door on your left. You can change there. Would you like coffee?'

'Yes, please. I'll be back in a moment or two.'

The room had no windows, and as far as I could see, no furniture either. It had a flagstone floor and the walls were of bare pointed masonry. I peeled off the leathers and threw on jeans and a t-shirt. I took my sweater from the bag and pulled it over my head. As I slid them on, I was glad I had packed thick socks. It had been cold, travelling on the back of the motorbike, and I was just beginning to notice that I needed the warmth. I folded the leathers as best I could and put them, carefully on to of the bike boots, laying my helmet to the side.

Back in the living room, Claire was already loading a camera with film. I was intrigued. I knew that she normally used a digital camera for her commercial work. I had seen her downloading the pictures onto her laptop. I took the coffee that Nicole held out to me and sipped it as Claire turned to me.

'I have three cameras. This one is loaded with black and white film. You can see in the film window that the cassette is blue and white.' She picked up a second camera, much bulkier. 'This has a polaroid back. I used it to photograph you the other week.' She was smiling. She couldn't have told them, surely. 'And this is loaded with slide film. The cassette is yellow.' I could see that through the little window on the back of the camera. 'I'll use the lenses that are on the cameras, so you don't need to worry about that, just keep hold of the cameras I'm not using and pass them to me when I ask. Now finish your coffee, I don't want to lose the light. We'll have breakfast when we get back in, then do some more photographs.'

Anne picked up a small sack, and was following Nicole, who had put on a long red greatcoat, out of the door. We walked through the gardens of the big house to a wooden door in a brick wall.

'The walled garden should give us the privacy we need. The gardener doesn't come in on a Saturday, and I'll shoot the bolt. Not that anyone will come looking in here at six in the morning.' We followed her into the garden; it was beautiful. In early spring there were few flowers, but the leaves were growing lush and green.

'That tree will do perfectly for what I have in mind. Do you think the light is right, Claire?' Anne had stopped below a large, gnarled fruit tree, throwing her bag to the ground.

'I think that will do beautifully.'

'Nicole, come here and give me your wrists.' Anne was still rummaging in her bag; Nicole stood in front of her, hands outstretched, fists clenched, the soft insides of her wrists uppermost. Anne looped one end of a length of rope about Nicole's wrists, taking it round them several times before winding the free end between her wrists over the loops. She then threw the loose end over a branch that must have been ten feet up in the air, pulling it tight and drawing Nicole's arms above her head. She fastened the end of the loop tightly to the tree and turned to Nicole. Kissing her deeply, she unbuttoned the greatcoat and opened it, revealing her naked lover's breast and sex. She kicked Nicole's feet apart, increasing the strain on her arms. Stepping back, she took a riding crop from the bag and flexed it menacingly. Clair had already set to work with the slide camera. I'd not noticed her picking it up. I was too distracted. It was clear from her quiet submission that Nicole had been bound like that before. Too, I was sure that she had felt the crop. I couldn't imagine how that must have felt.

'Polaroid!', I snapped back to reality. Claire's outstretched hand held the slide camera. I fumbled in the case and passed the bulky polaroid camera, placing the slide camera back. Claire briefly looked annoyed, then set back to work. I hoped I'd not been staring.

Anne released Nicole's wrists before pulling the greatcoat off all together. It was then that I noticed the collar, slim, black leather fitting closely round her throat. She put her hand in Nicole's hair. She pulled Nicole close and kissed her, still holding her by the hair, then forced her onto her knees. The humiliation and pain on Nicole's face were exquisitely erotic. I imagined myself in the same situation . All the time Claire was moving and taking photographs. Then, pushing Nicole's head to the ground, Anne bought the crop down hard on her behind, and again. Nicole gasped in pain, and the shutter clicked.

'Black and White!' I was ready this time. Anne's hands were caressing Nicole's behind, then, standing in front of her, she lifted Nicole's chin with the tip of the crop. She looked up through dishevelled hair.

'Thank you, Madame.' Again Claire was there with the camera.

Anne knelt down and embraced the naked woman. They kissed slowly and sensuously. Claire picked up the greatcoat and draped it over Nicole's shoulders. I was rooted to the spot, feeling very aroused. Claire packed the cameras in the bag and turned to me.

'We should leave them some space. We'll go back in. They will follow in their own time.'

I was struggling to take it all in as we walked back to the house. All I was sure of was that I wanted to take Nicole's place. I did not want to be cropped, but the thought of being that powerless was overpowering. I just wanted to be used, brutally and thoroughly. My mouth was dry, my stomach churning. The heat in my deepest belly was overpowering.

'Mistress?'

'Yes.'

'Please take me. I need your touch.'

Claire pushed me back over the kitchen table and loosened my jeans. Her fingers reached in side my knickers, parting the warm, moist satin from my sex. Her touch was electric as her fingers slid between the folds of my pussy, finding the hard bud of my clitoris.

'How much do you want this?' Her face was inches from mine.

'Please...' Her fingers were moving slowly, lazily, over my most tender parts.

'You lovely little slut.'

'Yes!' I needed it. More than anything. More than release. I needed to hear it from her.

'Whose little slut are you?'

'Yours, Mistress.' It felt so natural to say the things I hadn't been able to before when I was gagged. I was on the brink of the most intense orgasm when she stopped.

'Strip. Do not touch yourself.'

I could only obey. I stood there naked, more alive and aroused than I had ever been before.

'Chin up. Close your eyes.'

I felt a collar being fastened round my neck. It fitted snugly, comforting, relaxing almost.

'Open your eyes.'

Her eyes were looking straight into mine. pools of brown that seemed to look into my soul.

'What are you?'

'I am my Mistress' little slut.' I was pleading with her. I needed her touch. I needed to come more than I ever have before.

She kissed me, deeply, caressing my naked breasts, her hands moving down to my sex. She caressed me, just enough to bring me to the brink. Then turning me round, she pushed me forwards, bending me over the table. The wood was warm on my breasts. She drew my hands behind my back and tied them with soft rope.

'Please, Mistress.'

'Quiet!'

I thought she would gag me, but instead placed one hand firmly in the small of my back, pinning me to the table. Then she trailed a fingertip against my thigh. I struggled, and tried desperately not to scream. Then she ran a fingernail gently, lightly across my anus. I writhed uncontrollably. I couldn't imagine what that would feel like to be penetrated there. I had never done anything like that. I just couldn't. Surely not.

'You are such a good little slut. Do you still need to come?'

She didn't need to ask. I couldn't answer. She ran her index finger over my clit, circling it, pausing to slide it into my wet sex, then slicking my juices over my clit again. I came. I came with the intensity that only the inability to move or speak gives an orgasm. My wrists were freed, but the collar stayed. She helped me to my feet, then into a chair.

'You reacted better to that than I could ever have imagined. I am so proud of you.'

I couldn't speak. My eyes were welling up with hot tears. I wanted to thank her, to tell her how much I loved her, but only sobs came.

'Are you all right?' She looked worried.

I struggled to get the words out.

'I've never been happier or more fulfilled.'

She looked round. 'You'd better get dressed; they're coming back.'

I pulled my clothes on quickly, then remembered the collar. I reached behind my neck to unbuckle it.

'That won't do you any good. There's a little padlock that closes though the buckle tongue. I have the key here. Besides, after what you've seen, do you think that anyone will think any the less of you for it?'

It was true, I could feel the padlock, and the collar was no more conspicuous that the one that Nicole wore, but it didn't make me feel any less self-conscious.

Anne prepared breakfast while Claire showed me and Nicole the polaroids.

'Of course, the quality isn't really there in these. The final photographs will be much better, but the polaroids give you a good idea- I've used the back on a medium format camera for ages, it used to be the best way of seeing how a shoot was going, but now it's something of a curio.'

'These are beautiful.'

Nicole was holding a picture of Anne. It had been taken while Nicole was bound to the tree. While Anne, standing behind her with the crop, was in sharp focus, Nicole had been reduced to an abstract blurred slash of red and flesh colour filling the left-hand side of the frame. Looking carefully, you could almost pick out the line of her breasts. I had been there, but I wanted to know what Anne had been looking at, what she was about to do. It was an image that needed to be part of a story. A story that I needed to find out about. The background was a blurred mosaic of green and blue sky. There was a matching picture of Nicole, sharply focused, with the slightly blurred form of Anne looming behind her with the crop. It was menacing, but I wanted to put myself in Nicole's place. How did it feel to be bound like that, almost naked? But the last image was the strongest. Nicole was looking up, her head held upturned by the crop under her chin. Her expression was not quite submissive. There was a defiance, a spirit that could not be broken. It would be truly special to dominate a woman like that. I was suddenly very envious of Anne.

'I had to use colour for the images with the greatcoat; the red and green against your blond hair make such strong images.' Claire was in her element. 'The pictures of you in here will be black and white. I find that it gives skin a beautiful texture. It's much easier for me to develop myself as well.' You can keep the polaroids, and if you're happy with them, I can develop the film here. I'll do a contact print to help you decide on which images you would like to have.

Anne put a tray of coffee and croissants onto the table. She sat, and leafed through the photographs while we helped ourselves. I became aware of Nicole's eyes on me. Or more precisely, my collar. She looked at me with an expression I couldn't place, then smiled. The two of us ate in silence while Claire and Anne talked about old times.