There was a distinct feeling of entering one world while leaving another when the heavy wooden doors of the cathedral closed behind her. The thick, stifling New Orleans heat could not penetrate this cool serenity as she deposited her offering with a gentle clinking of coins. Taking the taper in her hand... touching the tiny flame to a candle. Was there anything more comforting? The candle sparked to life to dance with a hundred others. The distinctive scent of cheap wax and incense filling her nostrils, heady, dizzying almost as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the foyer. She could not remember the last time she had entered a church.
She glanced at down at her wrist, taking in the steady ticks of time and cleared her throat with a nervous cough. He had asked that she meet him here at exactly seven. Five minutes till and she stood, alone amidst the flickering candlelight, unsure of whether she should enter the cathedral itself, or wait. She felt ridiculous. The request had unnerved her at the time, and she had seriously considered ignoring it, but the simple white cotton sundress wasn't expensive, and this was a paying job. Life wasn't easy in the quarter, especially for a young woman like herself. Wanderlust and promised love had left her with no money, no resources, immersed in this nasty little city where a pretty girl was as much as part of the menu as any other simple pleasure in the Big Easy. Three minutes... She ventured a few steps towards the inner sanctum, her fingers curling around the massive brass handle. The door gave way, just enough to peer inside as her eyes softened , her lips parting in a silent circle of surprise.
The opulence of it made her feel dirty somehow, irreverent, as she stepped into the room to take a proper look. Pale blue eyes misted with admiration... the red velvet, the gold embellishments sparkling in the evening sun. The magic of twilight had brought the stained glass panels to life, and the faces of saints sneered down at her, as if to demand the reason for her presence. One unconscious step backwards and she felt her body meet with something solid, but very much alive. Her gasp brought a low chuckle from his lips as she whirled around, startled. As he clasped her hand in his, she barely heard the greeting, managing to smile at the pleasantries as she took an instinctive step back and exhaled slowly. "I'm glad to see you're on time, Chere." He paused for a moment to boldly take in her appearance with a critical eye, then nodded his approval. " Bein...the dress is perfect. Lose the shoes. I think bare feet will make for a more poignant photograph." He walked past her and set the black bag and tripod on the floor, kneeling to rummage through it as he continued to issue directives. She remained silent, somewhat taken aback, then assumed this was simply how it was done. She had never posed before, so she shrugged and slipped off her shoes, reminding herself that he was the professional. He attached a lens, not bothering to look up as that soft, gravelly voice echoed through the vastness of the empty room. "Take down your hair...and here..." A handkerchief floated through the air, flying at her face as he continued to rummage through fresh rolls of film. "Clean your face...I want simple, natural... moving...not the contrite tramp."
The handkerchief clutched in white knuckles, she bit back her retort and brought it to her lips, moistening the edge with her tongue. She quickly realized that this was not going to be effective as she choked out a request for directions to the ladies room, barely able to contain her anger. He rose to his feet, an amused smile curling the edge of his mouth as he pointed nonchalantly to the basin in the corner. Her gasp made him laugh outright, the echoes of it making her cheeks flush scarlet as she shook her head. "I can't! That's the holy fount...it would be wrong!" He took a step forward, erasing the space between them with a simple stride and grinned.
"It's water, Chere, we're here to do a job, and I'd like to get started before we lose the light." Her sigh seemed to amuse him even more. She relaxed her shoulders in a simple gesture of resignation as she walked towards the basin and dampened the edge of the cotton, bringing it to her face. Quickly, she managed to remove the last traces of color, revealing pale, flawless skin, slightly reddened with her efforts...and the knowledge that he was watching her every movement. She was vaguely aware that he had brought the camera up to eye level, peering at her through this black box that half hid his smile. His whisper echoed like a wave you can hear in a shell, almost a hiss. "Don't move...right there...now dip your hands in the water. No, no Chere, don't look at me...yes...that's it... splash the water on your face. Doesn't that feel wonderful?" The steady clicks brought a new flush to her cheeks as her gestures mirrored his every command...it was so wrong, so irreverent...but she was determined to pose like a professional. She had bragged to her friends about the job, the dreams she had of this session opening doors in her life, and that was enough to garner her obedience.
The water trickled in rivulets down her throat as she brought handfuls up, bathing her face in the sacred. Her dark hair unbound, cascading around her like a halo...the damp fabric clinging to her shoulders, just hinting at the pink skin beneath as the water collected in that cleft between her breasts. He murmured his approval, coaxing her, directing her, until she felt that almost hypnotic trance. The steady clicking, the whispers, she couldn't help but feel strangely aroused as her skin erupted into little pinpricked shivers, betraying her excitement. The clicks stopped suddenly, the spell near broken as he motioned for her to come closer. She brushed her hair from her eyes, walking to where he stood and the momentary pause seemed an eternity before he spoke. "Beautiful, Chere...now I want you to come with me. No, no...the wet is good...just what I want for the next shot." She followed his footsteps...arching a brow as the creaky confessional door was gently pushed aside. He gestured for her to enter, seeming to thoroughly enjoy her discomfort as he refused to move aside, making her breasts brush against him as she passed. The touches of pink high in her cheeks elicited a low chuckle as he reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. "Relax, Bebe. I know you're uncomfortable but this will be a spectacular shot. You are so beautiful, Chere, just breathe...lose yourself in it. Don't be afraid of enjoying it lovely, I am a professional, I assure you." She felt her shoulders relax some, reassured by his laughter, and found herself smiling back, amused at her own reluctance. Her laugh tinkled through the chamber like bells, widening his smile as she nestled back into the bench of the confessional. She looked up into his eyes, unsure of how to pose and he found himself staring; the way her hair framed her sweet face, those blue eyes searching his, the way she trapped that full pink lip between her teeth when she was nervous. Beautiful. Charming. His eyes closed for just a moment, relishing the way his body was responding to this sexy slip of a girl.
The darkness of the confessional was only broken by the slightest beams of filtered light; thin, dust-laden rays that seemed to make her skin glow in his eyes. As she snuggled back into the furthest corner of the tiny, cramped space, his pulse began to quicken. She looked so small there, trapped almost, the fragility of pale smooth skin and the whiteness of her dress cut a startling oblique in the blackness. Her eyes were so wide, so trusting as she moved to fit his every directive. It aroused him, and he found himself curiously amused with himself. He had taken so many photographs. So many young, fresh faces eager to pose for him, and he was typically oblivious to their charms. This was his art. Why was this one so different? God it felt so good, that familiar swelling, that familiar ache. He lowered his voice to mask the growl in it, whispering his directives with a tone of command that made her pulse begin to race. "Goooood, Chere...now prop on leg up on the bench. Bein... perfect...yes, lean back....slide your skirt up for me." Her eyes widened at this last and she sat bolt upright, a tinge of fear to her expression as her lips parted to protest. His whisper soothed her. She was still wary, but she leaned back once more. "Ahhh, do not be afraid of being sexy, Chere. You ARE sexy. We're making art here gorgeous. I explained there would be some nudity and you agreed, remember?" Her silent nod and the color that sprung to her cheeks only served to fuel his desire. As she propped her leg up once more, sliding her skirt high...higher, exposing just a hint of the simple cotton panties beneath, he found himself struggling for control. The overwhelming desire to take her right then made him clench his jaw for a moment, reminding himself how this slow seductive game would result in what could easily be his most powerful work ever.