I was working on a new body of images illustrating male submission. Yes, I know, It’s a recurring theme with me, but I do so like the appearance of the male form restrained and straining. I was looking for subjects between the ages of twenty-one and forty-five with specific characteristics and so I’d sent out a call to dominants in the international community. I explained the project and invited them to send photos if they were interested and willing to come to New York for shooting sessions.

Evidently, my reputation is such that the offer of a free print will coax people from across the globe to
travel to my studio. The farthest reply was from a woman in Japan. She was planning a trip and sent the most delightful photo. Language barriers often cease to be a problem when sex and art take over. Kazuhiro was transformed by Tatsumi’s intricate rope bondage, and he will be a lovely addition to the show.

The woman, standing in my studio, shrugged her shoulders. “You have carte blanche. I’ve seen your
work, that’s why we’re here.”

I ran a fingernail over his nipple and watched it react. “What’s his name?”

“Jordan.”

Jordan’s mistress was getting a signed print of her choice, in payment for today’s session. That, and
first refusal of the finished prints of her boy before the show opened to the public.

“Very nice, Jordan,” I purred. Turning to his mistress, I asked if she’d brought his shaving things.
She said she had and I told her to set them up on the table by the reclining barber chair. While she got everything ready, I directed Jordan to take off his sweat pants and climb into the chair. After fastening his wrists and ankles, I raised the chair to a comfortable height for his mistress.

The sweats were loose on him but there was still a mark that would show on film so I had a bit of time to kill. All in all, it wasn’t too bad; it would have been a much bigger time waster if he’d worn jeans. Of
course, I prefer to have boys arrive naked to my studio, but that can only occur in winter. Boots and
a coat somehow seem out of place in the summer. I took my time, setting up the lighting.

A half hour later, we were ready to begin. “Okay,” I said. “When we communicated, you indicated you
preferred to shave him dry, with talc, but I’d like you to use shaving cream today. The contrast pops so nicely in black and white, especially with the steel and mother of pearl of the straight razor.”

As she began to shave Jordan, I started shooting; close ups of her black-gloved hand pressing down on the base of his erection and the razor flashing in the lights, medium shots of his crotch, half shaved with her black silk-clad torso as the background, a long shot, including his face; head back, eyes closed and mouth open. I shot from a slight angle, just beyond his feet, taking in the whole scene along with the edges of the black seamless paper roll, the light stand in the corner behind his head, and black electrical cords snaking around the floor. The industrial look can sometimes be the most intimate and voyeuristic.

I could imagine the finished prints on the gallery wall. Yes, these pictures would go well with last
weeks. Jordan, pale and russet, juxtaposed with the obsidian and pink of Geoffrey, I would hang them as diptychs. The two would pair so nicely for the shaving pictures.

I shot fast, as I always do. “All right, if you’re finished with the front of him, let’s have him on all
fours on the table.”

His mistress released him from the chair and walked him over to the low massage table. His cock stood
proud and swung from side to side as he walked. Once she had him positioned, I walked over and gently ran my hand down his back and cupped his perfectly rounded ass. Although his breathing sped a bit, to his credit, Jordan hadn’t made a sound since he’d entered my studio.

“Very nice Jordan, arms in front of you now, on the table,” I said as I patted his bottom, giving him the
clue to raise it. “That’s it, now open your legs for me,” I said, gently pushing and prodding him into the
position I wanted. I ran my finger up his hard cock and pulled and stretched his balls down in back. An involuntary shudder coursed through his muscles. “Very good, Jordan. Later, Mistress will give you a nice reward,” I whispered, as I smoothed my hands down the backs of his thighs. “Won’t that be something to look forward to?” I detected a small tensing of his muscles and a drop of pre-come slipped from the tip of his cock and splashed onto the table, between his legs.

I fastened him to the table with black leather straps just below his knees and elbows, and at his ankles and wrists. It was all about the contrast. With Geoffrey, I’d used white leather straps. What a lovely pair they’d make.

Satisfied, I asked his mistress to complete the shave with his balls and anus. Using the bristles of the
shaving brush to apply the creamy soap, she swirled it again and again over his pulsing opening. Helpless to fight it any longer, he treated us to the music of his lovely, deep moan.

I finished these first shots, impressed with Jordan’s composure, and curious to see how he’d do during the strap-on shots. I always like to think ahead during a shoot. My thoughts kept bringing me back to Geoffrey.
Geoffrey’s master kept him in excellent shape, as fit as Jordan’s mistress kept him. Perhaps I’d ask to
have them brought in together for one more shoot. I could see the close-up of Geoffrey’s cock entering Jordan’s delicious ass. As I said, it really is all about the contrast.