Not a Xmas Card Pt. 01

Author's Note. This story includes characters found in other series. If you're interested to know more or experience the extending BlueLetterBooks universe check them out-- Happy reading! - TB

"Y'all are too cute," she said with a smile and her semi-southernish accent as she aimed her camera at the models. "Now, MJ, can you turn a little more to your left, there's a shadow on your right nipple - yes, there you go."

"Is that better, Mom?"

"Perfect, baby girl."

--------Screech!--------

Okay, let's back up a bit. My name is Duncan, I'm a grad student from the UK, Brighton in England, specifically, and I'm Prof. Vey's new(est) assistant.

She accepted my application from out of almost 50 wanting students and said we would begin with a few personal projects she was working on. She was very trusting, probably because of my exceptional T.A. work (or maybe she took pity because I was the only applicant who needed the extra practicum hours).

Either way, I jumped at the opportunity to get my feet wet in the field and I had heard of Prof. Aphrodite Vey's monumental body of work. She was quite famous, even in my campus overseas.

----

I had done my fair share of talking up Prof. Vey's work to our subjects as they sat in the studio lobby, waiting for the room we rented to become available so I could help her set up.

Our subjects were three girls (or, young women rather), all somewhere in their 20's, each with a unique look but sharing a similarity. They were all around mid-height, darker haired, fair features.

One of them had her hair twisted in long dreadlocks that she had spooled up on top of her head. She had fuller lips, a nose ring off one nostril, and gave hints of tattoos. She wore a larger turtle-necked sweater that draped down over a larger chest and well-widened hips in brown leggings.

Another had long brown hair that fell down her back in messy waves. She had a pert face, button nose, and a very characteristic smile. She was also rather buxom, her sandy brown cardigan hung open, showing a bright red shirt underneath. She had no discernable ornaments other than an earring in one ear not mirrored by the other.

And the last, who seemed a little younger, was the most unique in her look. She was a little taller but not by much and her brown hair was dyed a faded red halfway down, but also quite wavy, curly adjacent, all of which fell around her more angular facial features compared to the others' more rounded shapes. She was also a little thinner and had a much flatter chest and skinnier hips.

I considered that maybe Prof. Vey was working with a theme. "Brunettes, perhaps?" I suggested to them as they gathered.

I wasn't really clear as to why, but they all seemed to be in a very giggly spirit among themselves as I tried to aid in their waiting experience, something I'd done many times while subjects waited for what could be hours. It was my personal specialty. Small talk.

"Where are y'all from?" I asked the room.

One of them who was rifling through some pamphlets on the table turned to me with an already laughing smile, "you're new, aren't you?" she asked, though more stated in her inflection.

I smiled confidently. "This is my first assignment with Prof. Vey. I'm sort of

auditioning

to be her new T.A."

She turned back around. "Cute," she said, flipping pages.

They all shared a chuckle. "Have any of you worked with her before?" I asked as my next inquiry.

One of the others came over to me and put her hands on my shoulder, "what was your name?" she asked.

"Oh, sorry, did I not say? Duncan. Duncan Edgers."

"Okay, Duncan. Well, I'm MJ, that's Charlie, that's Laney," she said, each of them waving as they were introduced. "We already know each other. Very well actually," she said with a chuckle.

"Oh, you've worked together before, then?" They all nodded, seeming to be actively trying not to laugh at my expense. "Well that's good, familiarity breeds good art."

"Oh we're very

familiar

," the one by the table, Charlie, jested.

"Oh?" I questioned.

Just then, Prof. Vey came through the front door in her good winter jacket, kicking off the snow from her boots. "Hey, Duncan, can you help bring in the equipment," she said as she saw the room. "My girls!" she said loudly to them.

"Hey Ma," Charlie said, staring at me with a smile while she said it.

Oh, the egg on my face... I walked out of the room to grab the equipment as the three, apparently sisters, laughed.

----

Setting up was easy enough. The studio we were renting was essentially an empty room with one wall painted stark white (whiter than usual white walls are) and a few objects that one could use for posturing or display.

We didn't need much, according to Prof. Vey. Beyond the lights, reflectors, and dampeners, she only had me set up a couple of wood-framed stools of varying heights in the center of the studio.

The girls eventually came in from the back room where they had changed into the ensemble Prof. Vey had picked out. Seeing them, I was instantly flushed red, thinking of my earlier blunder. I ducked lowly, blushed, and scratched the back of my head as they walked through.

The two older sisters, MJ and Charlie walked past with a giggle. Laney, though, paused nearer me, leaned over, "it's okay, they like to prank." I looked up and smiled. "I like your accent by the way," she said with a sweet smile then walked off and joined her sisters by the benches.

They began in uniform sweaters and bluejeans, navy and untumbled. Their sweaters were all thick-knit in their weave but were form fitting. They were a range of colors in the red spectrum, a color that complimented each of their complexions very well.

"Laney darling, I want you upfront in this seat; Charlynn, can you take the bench behind her to the left, turn in some; MJ, can you stand behind them both. Perfect."

She sunk low, pressing her eye to the viewfinder and finding the right angle. "Duncan," she called to me, "can you go take a color test for me?"

"Of course." I ran out towards them with a little device in hand to make sure the lighting wouldn't wash the colors out. She took a couple of test shots, lifting the screen to her each time, confirming her settings.

"

Thanks, Duncan

," Charlie teased.

"Charlie, stoppit," Laney scolded. Their quips quiet and unheard by Prof. Vey, their mother.

"Got it, come look at this." I did as she asked and walked over to her. She showed me the image on the screen. "You see this?" she asked, looking up at me. "That's the setting you are looking for to match the tones, yeah?" She smiled as I nodded. "Okay, grab that reflector over there, stand by that light and we'll get this set done." And so I did.

The blend between this photo-project and teaching me was a very well-called opportunity. I was very happy to be there, working with such a campus legend.

Prof. Vey was known for her studio work, capturing some amazing portraiture, but also her work in action photography, some of which had been published in magazines and even some books. What an honor.

I stood by their collective left, holding a metallically painted cloth reflector to bounce the light off. I did my best to keep professional, only looking in neutral directions, or having my eyes drawn in a particular place when Prof. Vey was giving an instruction or a lesson in the moment.

That said, a struggle brewed only in the slightest measure at first as I was discovering a general beauty of each of the subjects, er, Prof. Vey's daughters.

Each in their own right was beauteous; complimentary features, pleasant affect and attitude, and, I noticed, well perfumed. But I knew that I must keep my composure. This was one of the greater opportunities for me and if I didn't squander it, it might lead to greater still.

They finished the first set, having done a couple of positions in their red sweaters and then went back to get into the next ensemble. Prof. Vey went through the photos she'd taken, walking me through different angles and settings.

"These are so lovely. Such a great family set. Is that what they're for?" I asked.

She laughed a little. "I definitely think they'd make a great Christmas card for the family, don't you?" she answered.

Prof. Vey herself was a very lovely woman. Just above 40, clearly a young mother, but irrelevant. She had thinner lips which lent to a very toothy smile, but her biteline was very fascinating. Very sweet. And she had very stark smile and laugh lines coming from the edges of her lips and eyes.

The artist in me bowed to her beauty, but again, I wouldn't say as much, keeping things professional. Thus, I had to look away to keep from staring.

----

Her daughters came back out, this time in a slightly different look. They all wore tight v-necked, forest green shirts accompanying the same blue jeans, this time with wood brown belts and boots. There was the littlest variety in their shirts, belts, and boots, but the complementation was so much so, I barely noticed.

MJ was positioned on the furthest right, her hair let down, reaching down past her waist. She stood in a forward angle, her chest aiming across, her face tipped forward. Laney with her height stood in the middle, stretching her arm over MJ's shoulder while MJ's hands clasped around Laney's stomach. Charlie came around on the other side, mirroring MJ but in reverse.

"That tickles," Laney said of Charlie's playful hands as they made their way on her stomach to position, a little higher than MJ's.

"Don't tempt me," Charlie responded impishly.

I was definitely struggling the littlest bit to maintain the same professional gaze as I had the first set. One thing more evident in this set was the lack of coverings beneath their green shirts. As the heater had reached its peak and not restarted, the cooler winter air gave the slightest chill through the old building. Perhaps the main culprit involved in the erectly standing nipples that all three of the sisters donned.

"Okay, let's adjust this," Prof. Vey started, placing her camera on a nearby stand and walking into the set. "Duncan, go stand where I was and let me know how things look," she ordered. I did so, standing witness to her among her daughters, rearranging them.

"Let me know when the line of sight isn't obstructed." I nodded.

She began by bringing Charlie, who was the shortest standing by only an inch or so to the center, moving her hand down Charlie's leg, beckoning her to bend a little.

MJ was then brought over behind her, placing her lap against Charlie's backside with a bend in her legs as well.

Laney was the last to be positioned, brought to sit on a short bench in front of Charlie, about level with her chest, causing the two standing sisters to effectively be holding her head.

"How's this?" Prof. Vey asked.

I had to swallow to speak. "F-fine, Prof."

She walked back over and confirmed what I was seeing. "Good job, Duncan. You can grab the reflector again."

The set included a couple of other positions, all of which she showed me on the screen as they went and changed into another set of outfits. "I love the green, in contrast with the red," I said as we scrolled. "These

will

make for great holiday cards." She smiled.

I was definitely more susceptible to the more minor details of her sweet and inviting look at this point in the shoot. Thus, I had to remind myself a little more to stay focused on that which I should be focused on.

"There's not much more for the day, but we'll get a few more good shots, and more opportunities for you to get your hands in the process."

"I appreciate that, Prof. Vey. This is a great op-" I was stilled in my speech when the three sisters emerged, this time in sheer white, silken robes.

Prof. Vey may or may not have noticed how stricken I was, but she went right to work regardless. "Okay, we're going to get a few on these stools before we move to the bench." I was unaware there would be a bench.

I was told to place the stools in descending height and to lay warming cushions atop them. I was aware but blissfully ignorant as to why they'd be needed. "Take a seat, girls," Prof. Vey instructed.

I turned around to take my position with the reflector, having kept the sisters behind me as I set up. "Hold on, Duncan, can you take their robes?" I may have gulped more audibly than I intended as a small chuckle rippled from behind me.

"Here you go, Duncan," MJ said, holding the robe out to me from behind, where I could reach it. But I knew I would have to turn around.

When I did, taking the robes, I prayed my eyes wouldn't betray my thoughts and imaginings when they saw me. And in particular, when they saw me see them.

They were standing in a clustered line-up, all looking at me directly, clad in somewhat matching white lace-prominent underwear sets. I did everything in my power to maintain a professional and modest composure, keeping my head and eyes down, which, the more I did, the more they giggled.

"You going to be okay, Duncan?" Charlie asked menacingly. I blushed. I felt it.

"Okay ladies," Prof. Vey intervened, "take your seats."

Prof. Vey had them seated first separately, facing all in my direction (of course) but their faces towards the camera. I stood with the reflector held out in front of me, so thankful for its covering capabilities. My eyes lived in the ceiling, the only safe place to keep my gaze.

Prof. Vey had taken a few dozen photos of them in separated seating positions before she finally instructed me to go in and remove the stools. This left the sisters standing in the photo area awaiting positioning.

She began by telling them what to do from afar, beginning with a repeat of the position they'd done in the green shirts with Laney in between her two sisters. However this time, there was one additional variation on that position.

Prof. Vey directed that they both (MJ and Charlie) lower their hands so that they were propped carefully in front of Laney's lap area, blocking the line of her panties.

I let my eyes leave the ceiling for a second to scan briefly that situation. Mainly, the witness for me was the complete and total lack of resistance or awkwardness in the subjects, each of them taking the direction without hesitation, without pause, without any abashment. My breathing began to intensify. I returned my eyes upwards to collect myself.

"Duncan," Prof. Vey said as I worked to resettle. I hoped that there was nothing I was doing that caused an issue. I checked if I had lowered the reflector too far or anything. "Come here." I walked over to her in both relief and also in deep trepidation. "Look at these." I did. "What's missing do you think?"

"Prof.?" I asked, seeking clarification on her question.

"What does the photo need?"

I did my best to pay attention, specifically to find any cosmetic flaw in the settings, not the subjects. "Uhm... I'm, I'm not sure," I relented.

"Look deeper, sweety." I couldn't help but wonder if this was a test.

"I see, uh, I guess, it's flat?" I tried.

"Flat? Who's flat?" Charlie goaded, giving a soft hint to her hillcrest chest.

My eyes shot up in utter fear of what I might have said wrong. "Oh Charlie, will you knock it off," Prof. Vey said. "Ignore her. She loves to tease."

"Yes, I do." I heard her say under her breath, Laney giving her a little hit on her shoulder.

"Flat, huh? How do we fix that?" Prof. Vey posed.

"I would... I would say, levels?"

She smiled. "I think so, too." She looked out at her daughters. "I think we should move to the bench?"

-----

The bench was a soft, pleated half back bench, sort of kind one might see at the end of a bed for sitting and getting dressed on. It was light and easy to bring into the center by myself, following Prof. Vey's instructions on placement. Once it was set, the girls went to sit on it.

"You said levels, right Duncan?" I turned to her and nodded. "Can you give me levels?"

I quickened, "Prof. Vey?"

"Place them. Give me levels." There was a real and sudden locking in my legs as I considered moving in the direction of the sisters.

"You've got it, Duncan. This is a part of it. You've got a good eye, I think you'll be doing this a lot in the future," she encouraged.

I smiled and nodded and started to move in their direction, but felt as though I walked through tar, nearly unable to process the movement of my body, let alone the layout of the room and the lighting and the coloring, and the... levels.

As I approached with bucketfuls of apprehension, Laney seemed to notice my struggle and walked a few steps towards me, meeting me on the edge of the staging area. "Where should I go?" she asked me.

It was enough to reinstill my greater functions and I was able to focus in a little more. "Uhm, how about..." I thought about narrative a little, something I'd personally been working on in my own art. "How about we have MJ on the bench, if that works for you. Uh, center facing forward. Charlie and Laney, maybe you can both get on the floor in front of her in... in a way that feels comfortable. Then it's like-"

"-Because she's the oldest?" Laney added.

"Yes. Yes, exactly." I smiled.

"I like it. So maybe I should go out in front then because I'm the youngest. Do you think, Duncan?"

I nodded. "I like that."

They took their positions and Prof. Vey seemed pleased with it. Charlie sat on the floor in front of MJ's legs and Laney laid out across the floor in front of Charlie. Then they did another where MJ sat higher on a cushion, Charlie sat between her legs, and Laney in between Charlies, tilting her torso back and wrapping her arm around Charlie's head.

They changed to another set up where Laney sat on the bench, her legs spread apart and both MJ and Charlie on the floor in front of her, covering her midsection with their hands. Sometimes leaning on her legs and letting their hands stretch out up her sides and chest, or grasping her feet in their hands.

Throughout all of this, I'd grown a bit more confident in the room, but still tried to maintain a professional gaze. This meant I had avoided as much direct perusal of each of them as I could. But at some point, I began to really take in who I was looking at.

MJ was indeed covered in tattoos, unique little sayings, drawings, quotes in other characters, a large lioness on her thigh, even some that seemed to come dangerously close to what I could see of her breasts.

There was a strong spiritual lean in her adornments and when she sat straight-backed, she tended to radiate a spiritualist prophet or something of that ilk. She was powerful in that.

Charlie didn't have any discernible body adornments or anything that I saw. It seemed her thing was a general sense of naturalness. She, specifically, seemed not to shave anywhere on her body. Neither her arms or legs, which were visibly lush, nor her underarms, which passed beyond her bicep nor did she trim beyond the bikini-line. Some positions betrayed that fact of her. She wore it confidently and it showed.

Laney seemed the least confident in her body, but only in comparison. She had a gentleness to her movement, longer features, fingers and toes, held in a way that created great lines. Maybe a dancer's body.

"Okay everyone." Prof. Vey's voice brought me back into the room from my inner musings. I was prepared to strike the set upon her word. "Are we ready for the last one?" she asked instead to my surprise, unable to imagine what we could get out of another go with the minimal props and pieces we had.

Nevertheless, I waited for them to leave and go into the back, but they didn't move. Instead, their hands started grasping at the little fabric they still had on their bodies, one by one, whether it be a bralette or their panties, they all came off.