“Yes, of course.”
Erik nodded. “Excellent.”
They entered the studio space, and he glanced around, tapping a finger against his chin. “All very much in order.”
Syria dashed around to the lights, switching them on. “I thought this might be a nice drop to start with, although if you’d rather keep it black or high key for simplicity…” She trailed off.
Erik watched her with his dark eyes beneath immaculately combed black hair and perfect eyebrows.
“I’m afraid I’m not sure what I’m shooting,” she said.
He smiled and once again Syria warmed over. What was so charming about this man?
“Let me introduce you to my associates,” Erik said. “First is Aliara. She is my slave.”
Syria inhaled sharply at the word, but Erik went on, gesturing to the other girl. “And this is Malin, my submissive.”
Syria looked from one woman to the other, beginning to pick out their discerning features. Aliara had longer hair, black and glossy, parted neatly down the middle to frame an oval face. She was slight, dressed in a black shift that accentuated her wraith-like body, not unlike the women Syria remembered from the bondage exhibition. She wore an unusual silver ring around her neck, fitted with an ornate series of loops.
Malin was perhaps a few years younger, early twenties, and wore a flowing silk sundress in a tawny gold. She was large-breasted but not otherwise curvy, her almond eyes emphasized by skillful makeup.
“Hello,” Syria managed to choke out, still wondering the difference between the two labels. She turned to Erik. “Will I be photographing them both?”
“Yes, in some instances. Aliara has come to the end of her contract with me, and is moving on. I am very sad to see her go.”
The woman lowered her eyes, focusing on the wood floor. Erik touched a finger to her chin and brought it up again. “I thought I might like to capture some of my favorite things about her before she was gone.”
Syria picked up her camera, fiddling with dials to avoid having to stare at the woman, who seemed perfectly nonchalant as this man talked about her. “So what sorts of things?” Hopefully not body parts.
Erik turned to her and placed his hand on the camera, stilling her nervous movements. “I know that you are probably thinking that in this modern day, we should not have women as slaves. And I am not overly fond of the word. It’s just a common term in the BDSM community. Aliara is one of my favorite possessions, and I have treated her very well. She chose of her own free will to give up her life to me for a period of five years.” He turned to look at the woman, who smiled at him now. “It’s been a very good five years for us both.”#p#分页标题#e#
Aliara nodded. “It has.”
Syria startled a little to hear the girl speak. She had no understanding how these relationships worked. The only submissives she’d seen had been at the exhibition, and that had been in the context of the bondage show.
“So the stylist has some outfits for Aliara?” Syria said. “Maybe if I saw them, I’d get an idea of what we’re going for.”
“Absolutely.” Erik turned to the blond woman, who was showing the boy where to place the wardrobe box. “Elise, show Syria what we brought along.”
Malin stepped back to let Syria pass by to approach the wardrobe, a tall cherrywood box with ornate gold latches. Elise bent to pop them open, and the boy pulled the front cover aside.
Syria felt a little wave of shock at the contents. Hanging inside the door was an assortment of whips, floggers, paddles, and objects she couldn’t identify. On a rack in the main section, several outfits in leather, some with solid pieces, and others with cutouts in intriguing places, shifted from side to side from the movement of the box.
“I think you may sense the direction the shoot is going now,” Erik said.
“I do,” Syria said.
Elise pulled out a drawer from the bottom of the box with professional detachment. “We also have some silks, a few bits of lingerie, and this.” She unfolded a shiny vinyl body suit.
“I do hope we’ll get one in the Ligne,” Aliara said.
Syria whirled around. “The Ligne?”
Elise rummaged in the drawer. “It’s a ballet term. I have the shoes.” She pulled out a pair of silver heeled shoes so high that it would not be possible to walk in them. The feet went straight up, like a ballerina on pointe. Elise pushed aside a solid leather dress to reveal a soft pink, almost completely sheer corset with silver laces. “Here’s the top.” She shifted through the lingerie. “And here’s the bottom.” She held up a scrap of pink silk on a silver wire.