Page 93 of The Dom with a Safeword

“Yup. I did boudoir pictures for Ivy as a gift to her newest Dom a few months ago, and I’ve had a steady flow of kinksters through here ever since. Just don’t tell the brides or the moms who come in to get their baby pics done, or my entire vanilla career will be ruined.”

They all laughed. Q asked Jude to help her slide the brown leather chaise lounge into the centre of the room. They all stood back to look.

“Nice!” Jude nodded.

Grimacing, Q gestured at the set up. “I should be able to visualize it in my head more than I do, but without the subject I have trouble imagining good poses. Um... Sabrinaaaaaa...?”

Her friend rolled her eyes. “Where do you want me?”

She’d helped out before so Sabrina knew the drill.

“Go sit on the couch while I adjust my tripod. I’ll be there in a minute.” Q fiddled with her equipment for awhile then turned on the lights and adjusted the lighting umbrellas.

“Okay, could you lean on your side with your head on your hand? Propped up on an elbow.” After Sabrina maneuvered into position, Q zoomed in closer. “Now give me a sexy smile.”

Her subject froze, a pained expression on her face.

“No, Sabrina. Sexy. Give me the expression you would use if you were trying to give a guy a come hither look?” The girl looked like a deer in headlights.

“I don’t know how to be sexy, Q. Maybe that’s why I’ve only had three boyfriends before.” She giggled uncomfortably.

“You are sexy, Sabrina.” Q came out from behind the camera and adjusted her friend’s pose a little. “I’ve seen you with a lot of sexy expressions. Maybe it was subconscious. Give it a try or I’m going to do things to make you uncomfortable.” She schooled her expression into something sinister.

Sabrina wriggled in place a bit before settling down.

Q ducked behind the camera again and had to stifle a laugh. Her subject now looked as though a poor, unsuspecting, Christmas nutcracker had been lured into doing boudoir shots. Sabrina’s open-mouthed grin would terrify a walnut at thirty paces.

She sighed. “A little help, Jude?”

Rubbing his hands, Jude approached Sabrina with an evil glint in his eyes. All he needed was a top hat, a handlebar mustache, and some train tracks.

Mouth half-open, Sabrina watched them approach. She curled up into a ball and squealed. “No, no! I don’t know what you want. I’m sorry!”

“Give me your dress,” Q ordered.

Sabrina glared, but knelt on the couch and pulled it over her head. The white bra she wore was only a demi-cup and her hardened pink nipples were held up and out on display. A matching thong left little to the imagination. Together, the color said innocent, while the cut said otherwise. Perfect for Sabrina.

Jude groaned. He traced his finger along the string that went across her hip then followed it down to the cleft of her ass. She quivered and gasped, lips parting. Her expression was breathtaking.

“Jude, you stay with her. Touch her until I tell you to back away, okay?” Q licked her lips, wishing she was using a video camera instead of a still. She pressed a hand between her own legs for a second, trying to relieve the ache.

“I saw that,” Jude growled.

“Shut up, Sir.”

“You watch yourself, girl.”

His vague threat barely registered. Her hand-held camera seemed more appropriate for this job. Grabbing it out of the open case on the table only took a second. When Q turned back, Jude was standing behind Sabrina, rolling her nipples between his fingers. Her head was thrown back against his chest. The little whining noise that came from Sabrina’s lips shot straight to Q’s clit.

She nodded at Jude when she caught his attention, and he slipped out of the picture. She barked Sabrina’s name and her subject’s eyes opened, but her wanton expression suggested she wasn’t paying much attention to what Q was doing. She snapped a few pictures in rapid succession – the flashes seemed to bring Sabrina back to herself.

“Stop,” she complained feebly. “I look like an idiot.”

“No, you don’t,” Q and Jude replied in unison.

“Stand up for a second.” She got Jude to help her turn the chaise lounge so that the back of it was facing the camera. Q took Sabrina by the arm, led her to the couch and placed her hands on the top near the higher end. She moved Sabrina’s feet back until her ass was practically sending the camera love letters.

“What? No,” Sabrina complained, her shifting feet only serving to draw more attention to her luscious ass. But she didn’t move or cover herself. Or safeword. Q took several shots with Sabrina’s ass forefront, her expression pouty as she looked at Q over her shoulder. At Q’s side, Jude sighed blissfully, sounding like he’d found heaven.