The Photographer 41 (Patreon)

“So, do you want to come, or would you prefer peeking from the corner,” I asked as I looked at Penny, who was still behind the door, watching me from the slight crack that was letting a ray of light in.

The expression of shock that passed through her face, replacing her earlier impatient jealously, made her even cuter. Not to mention the fact that she believed that it was an adequate hiding method, enough to keep her obscured from my gaze… 

It was easy to forget just how silly and clumsy she could be when excited, then she went and did something like that, reminding me why I should never let her work with another photographer under any circumstances, no matter how attractive that might be for the fledgling business I was building to have models with better visibility. 

“Come on, open the door, and show me the surprise you clearly worked hard to prepare,” I whispered, earning a shy whimper, one beautiful enough to awaken my manhood even after its great exertion earlier. 

From the crack on the door, I could see Penny’s blush growing gently, putting a big smile on my face in the process as well, amazed how she could act this shy after her earlier daringness, allowing me to complete a beautiful milestone much faster than I had been planning. 

Yet, when she pushed the door open, revealing her surprise, I couldn’t help but look at her with widened eyes. “Naughty girl,” I murmured as I looked at her, my gaze slowly lingering from bottom to top. 

I was surprised by the way she dressed, especially since I wasn’t expecting anything extraordinary in the first place. I had an accurate understanding of each item of clothing they had available — as while I thoroughly enjoyed the trip, ultimately, I didn’t forget that I was a professional. 

The most I expected her to mix and match their costumes to create a new show. Not that it would have been a horrible option, as Penny stuffed in a costume that was barely a fit for Nancy in the first place would have looked amazing. 

She went in a different direction. 

She had found a long strip of red cloth in the room, barely half as wide as my hand. Since she had arrived with a bottle of massage oil, I guessed it was a part of the massage equipment that came along with the expensive room. 

Living in a classy suite definitely had its perks. Pity, it was a one-time perk.  

What she had done with that surprised me more than its existence. She had carefully wrapped it around her considerable bosom a couple of times, though she carefully kept the alignment askew to as not to cover the sight of her inviting flesh completely. Then, one of the hooks moved down from the left side, hooking under her torso to create primitive underwear, hiding her core from the view. 

Yet, the real impact came from the large bow tie she had created, resting at the side of her alluring belly, turning the whole costume into a nice gift wrap. 

“I see,” I said with a gentle smile, yet, rather than walking to her, I turned my back and walked to the living room. I expected her hesitant steps to follow me, but they were absent. So, just as I arrived at the doorway, I turned to her,  finding her expression replaced by fear and hesitancy. 

“It’s a good start, but a present doesn’t just need to look good, you also need to think about how to present it,” I suggested to her. “So, why don’t you give it a little more thought and surprise me in the living room.” 

Her expression changed once more as her shy determination asserted itself. She said nothing, just nodded slightly, while I turned and left her behind at the entrance of the bedroom, curious what she might create after the earlier show. 

I still grabbed my camera, which had multiple reasons. Not only did I enjoy taking photos, after all, but also it worked wonders to make Penny relax even more, triggering her submissive traits under the physical representation of my authority. 

While Penny stayed back to work on her presentation, I decided to help her a bit more. I went to the bathroom — the other, smaller one, another perk of the top-tier suite we were enjoying — to refresh and clean myself a bit, then I put on a fluffy bathrobe. 

Then, I returned to the room and poured myself a glass of single-malt scotch, but didn’t immediately sit down. Instead, I walked around, turning certain lights on and dimming others, creating a nice lightning effect that could pass for professional-level, the focus on the doorway and the couch I planned to occupy. 

After all, giving a little help to my sexy blonde wasn’t a horrible idea… 

Then, I sat down and crossed my legs, appreciating the opportunity to rest a bit. After all, I had been up since the early morning, and not only did the day have a rather explosive start, and we had worked hard the whole day at the convention center, which was hardly the most relaxing day. 

I leaned back, enjoying the comfort of the couch that was probably more expensive than a car. “Damn, I missed the luxury,” I murmured. A lot of people claimed that luxury was unnecessary, and just about vanity, but, unfortunately, it was just a lie told by the people who didn’t enjoy the true luxury. 

Or maybe, I was just a vain asshole, but if that was the case, I had no intention of changing that. 

At least, I was a lucky vain asshole, I decided as I looked around. Considering I was literally exiled from the peak of the industry in every way that mattered, I was still living rather well. Unfortunately, that amount of success could hardly open the path of the peak back to me, not with the clout of the people I had already angered. 

Even worse, I could hardly see a way to climb back. Doing the fashion shoots of the third-rate local brands gave me some much-needed revenue to buy some new equipment, maybe even enough to rent a decent studio, but ultimately, those were hardly enough to break the barriers in an industry that worked exclusively on connections, favors, and reputation. 

And my connections were all burned by a certain highly-known editor, I had no favors that could call. Even worse, my reputation was worse than nothing, a chain around my ankles. 

“Damn,” I murmured as I shook my head, trying to dispel the sudden depression that threatened to overwhelm me. What a stupid mood to suddenly fall into between a spectacular threesome and waiting for a spectacular show from a sexy blonde wrapped in gift wrap. 

I reached my phone, hoping to distract myself from the funk, only to find my phone flooded with notifications. 

“How interesting,” I murmured as I went through the messages, asking for more and more photos of the girls in exchange for even more money. “Maybe there’s not just a way of doing business,” I murmured to myself even as I went through them. 

Maybe I had underestimated the money I could make from those nerds. 

‘Don’t worry, a new tier on the way, and here’s a teaser,’ I said before I posted two photos, one from Penny, the other from Nancy, both from the archives — not the private archives, of course, as they were exclusively for my own private ownership. They were just sexy poses, disguised enough to hide their identity. 

Not that I would have shared them even if it wasn’t for the possessive streak I was developing. I had been caught flat-footed by the sudden interest they had shown for the extra, steamier photos — mostly because I didn’t factor in the extent of the allure of two sexy women for the people in the convention after they spent a whole day leering at them — but as a professional photographer, I was an expert on how to manage that. 

Never give them what they truly wanted. 

There was a reason most models never did nude photoshoots, and it was little to do with their sense of shame. I had worked the backstage enough to know just how ‘adventurous’ they could be behind closed doors to get better jobs to know that part didn’t deter them. 

Yet, they avoided it, because a model’s allure came from the mystery it suggested as much as her beauty, and a fully nude, or even excessively revealing photoshoot went a long way to destroy that allure, even if doing so came with rather explosive benefits in the short term. 

For that exact reason, I made sure that, even though I had shared some photos of them wearing some very sexy underwear, I had deliberately chosen the most obscure angles that just implied a sense of sexiness. 

And the moment I did so, messages flooded in, displaying the awe of their beauty, while the subscriptions to higher tier skyrocketed, even better than I expected, earning me several thousand dollars in the process. 

A promising start, but before I could truly focus on the implications, I noticed a movement at the doorway. 

I raised my gaze, as it would be extremely rude to ignore Penny after asking her to prepare for my sake.