“Freda? You in here?”

Freda looked up from her camera as some-one knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”

“The Empress of China, who do you think?”

Freda rolled her eyes and gave her model a small smile.

“Back in a second,” She assured her.

Freda slid the chain off the door and let the woman in.

She was a smart dark-skinned woman in her mid-thirties of probably Indian heritage, her dark black hair shimmering like black silk under the lights. Her face was delicate and yet, carried a rather haughty air, strong black brows, imperious dark brown lioness-like eyes and full pouting lips. A purple jewel glittered in her delicate nose, matching the necklace of amethyst shards around her neck and the midnight purple silk of her blouse. With the black blazer slung over one arm, her neatly ironed black slacks and shiny leather boots with their stiletto heels, you definitely got the feel of a business woman from her, and not one that would be wasting her time in the studio of a photographer.

“Iolanthe,” Freda said with a smile.

“Freda,” Iolathe gave her a dazzlingly white smile. “I’m disappointed. Usually when you lock the door it’s because you’re doing more of your… intimate portraits.”

Freda grinned. She was a head shorter than Iolathe, wearing a loose flannel shirt and tattered jeans, everything from her wild frizzy brunette hair to her beaten up trainers a complete opposite to the carefully arranged Iolanthe.

“What makes you think that this isn’t… intimate?” She asked, shutting the door behind Iolanthe and replacing the chain.

The model made an impatient noise.

“Okay, okay, be right with you,” Freda rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a diva.”

Iolanthe cast her eyes over the model. A beautiful dark skinned girl with intricate braids was modelling a stunning wedding dress. It encased her from head to toe, from the glittering tiara with the veil hanging over her face, from the high collar fitted snuggly around her long graceful neck, the long sleeves with the close-fitting cuffs that matched the pattern of the collar, the tight waistline and the long skirt, reminiscent of a Victorian dress with it’s bustle following behind. The whole dress was pristine white silk and had a delicate shimmer to it, crystals peeping from the folds.

The model was stood on a dark blue velvet backdrop, angled so she was facing slightly to the right of Freda with her camera, so the entirety of the dress could be seen. Her arms were held behind her, demurely crossed at the wrist.

“I know a girl’s wedding is one of the most important of her life, but this isn’t what I had in mind as intimate,” Iolathe remarked.

“Oh, that’s good to hear,” Freda remarked, taking her camera off the stand and moving in closer. “If a practised domme like you can’t see it, then it must be good.”

Iolanthe frowned, her beautiful if haughty face creased in confusion. She scanned the dress again, then looked back at Freda.

“I don’t get your point?”

“One of my friends is very much into bondage and has been trying to drag his girlfriend down the aisle for years,” Freda explained. “She couldn’t see the point of the thing, until he suggested that they turn it into a secret bondage session. Then she couldn’t get it done fast enough. The whole idea of him ‘forcing’ her to get married made her virtually jump him. Thing is, both of their parents are really conservative and the idea of latex and leather at their wedding? Never going to happen. So. They’ve made this whole elaborate role play. He’s going to kidnap her before the wedding, force her into a wedding dress, the whole deal.”

“So?”

“So my friend Mavis here is about Laura’s size, so she offered to help me test it,” Freda explained. “Didn’t you dear?”

Mavis made a particularly ticked-off noise. Iolanthe frowned, looking at her. There was something… odd in the way she was standing.

“So we’re taking some pictures to show John so that he can assure Laura that there’s no way that either of their mothers is going to spot that she’s pretty severely tied up all the way through the ceremony,” Freda said with a grin. “Their mutual best friend Joe is going to walk her down the aisle because her Dad isn’t well enough, and he’s in on it, as is the best man and the maid of honour, but no-one else should have a clue.”

Freda took a final picture and put the camera back on the stand.

“Okay Mave, we’ll try the holding the bouquet thing now,” Freda stepped towards Mavis.

Mavis almost growled at her. Freda just grinned, fiddling with the cuffs of the dress. Then Iolathe saw it. The cuffs of the dress were quite literally cuffs. Hidden by the lace around the wrists and intricate disguised, they were leather cuffs, attached to each other by an ingenious series of clasps, that were virtually invisible when closed. Mavis tried to shove Freda off with an impatient gesture, but Freda just grabbed her hands and clicked them together infront of her. Laces appeared from the front of the dress to hold her elbows at either side of her waist, meaning that Mavis’ hands were locked together infront of her.

“I hope you’re watching closely Mave, you’re going to be having to do this with Joe on the day,” Freda remarked, double checking everything. “Okay, give me a struggle.”

Mavis yanked her arms this way and that, but nothing gave.

“Right then,” Freda picked up a bunch of flowers from a nearby table.

She deftly threaded this into Mavis’ hands, attaching a wire on the bouquet to the cuffs, meaning that regardless of whether she held it or not, she wasn’t going to be able to drop it.

“Right, a few more…” Freda stepped back to the camera. “Right, we’re finally done.”

She unlaced Mavis’ hands from the dress, then undid the cuffs and collar, which Iolathe now saw was a very strict posture collar.

“Okay Mave, whenever you’re ready.”

Mavis pulled her arms out of the dress and draped one around Freda’s shoulders. Freda physically lifted Mavis out of the dress, which stayed stood up. Mavis was now revealed to be wearing a white silk corset, laced up very tight, white knickers, a garter belt and stockings, and a pair of white leather boots that went all the way up to her knees. Iolanthe could see that the boots were tightly laced up, not just to themselves, but to each other, effectively sealing her legs together into one limb. The heels seemed to be slightly shorter than they should be, meaning that Mavis was sat back in the heels, her weight off the ball of her foot.

“Hang on,” Iolathe said, frowning. “How on earth are you going to walk an unwilling bride down the aisle?”

“Have her on casters of course,” Freda said with a smile. “Look at the boots.”

Iolanthe frowned, and then finally saw in. In the platform of the ball of her foot was what looked like a wheel from a kid’s scooter.

“So, Joe will hold her around the waist, like this,” Freda wrapped her arm around Mavis’ waist. “And lift slightly, as he walks her down the aisle. This will mean she has to balance on her toes and so…”

Freda walked forwards a few steps and Mavis glided forwards alongside her as easily as if she was on rails.

“There’s a frame in the dress,” Freda explained to Iolathe as she wheeled Mavis over to a chair so she could sit down. “So it’ll stay nice and puffy and hide anything going on in the legs region. We thought about having a trolley under it or something, but there’s a ramp and things, so it wasn’t going to be convenient.”

“Ingenious,” Iolanthe said, intrigued.

“Joe’s tall and strong, so if anyone can pull it off, it’s him,” Freda explained. “Him and Mavis have been practicing in the boots and rolling her down stairs if necessary. And in that huge frock, no-one’s going to be surprised if they take their time.”

Mavis removed the veil and tiara and gave Freda a particularly ticked off expression. Now that the veil had been removed, Iolanthe could see that her cheeks were slightly bulging.

“Okay, okay, hang on,” Freda pulled a pair of lipsticks from her pocket. “It’s not this one, it’s… this one.” She gave Mavis a white tube that looked like lip-gloss.

Mavis dabbed her lips with it, then ran her fingertip across it. Her lips, painted a dark crimson seemed almost to crack apart and she reached into her mouth to pull out a wad of material and a sponge.

“About damn time,” Mavis moaned.

“Sorry,” Freda said brightly.

“No you’re not.”

“Not even slightly,” Freda agreed. “It’s nice to take your picture without you saying ‘No! No, you can’t use that one’ or ‘don’t you dare put that on facebook’ or ‘make sure you get my best side’.”

Mavis blew a raspberry at her.

“I did wonder how you were going to manage the gag,” Iolanthe remarked.

“Oh yeah, the veil does hide a multitude of sins,” Freda remarked. “But basically, John’s chemistry buds came up with a glue that works well on skin and can be applied as a lipstick and can be removed really easily with the solvent, which looks like this lipgloss.”

“It tastes like cherries,” Mavis informed her cheerily.

“So all you have to do is pack her mouth full and then apply the lipstick, cover her up with a veil and ta daaa…” Freda shrugged. “The only moment of peril is the kiss, but that should be okay, he’ll hoik up her veil, he kisses her, puts it back down and no-one knows.”

“Have they patented it?” Iolanthe asked.

“In the process of,” Freda said brightly. “I’ll let them know you’re interested.”

“Much obliged,” Iolanthe tilted her head to one side. “So how are you going to do the ‘I do’ and the vows?”

“Well, they’re going to cut the vows right down,” Freda explained. “And we’ve already recorded Laura saying them, that took some super ninja recording. There’s a little speaker built into the neck of the dress, so it will definitely sound like it’s coming from her, and no-one’s going to be able to see under the veil. Then they’re going to go sign the papers and then John’s going to wheel her back down the aisle. They’ve got the reception at a burlesque bar in town, so the parents won’t be coming along to that, and I don’t know what the plans are for that bit.”

“Pretty sure they’re doing a change in the limo so she ends up in her corset and not a lot else,” Mavis said with a grin, busily unlacing the boots. “Knowing Laura and John, he’ll walk her in on a lead.”

“She’ll love every second of that,” Freda remarked with a grin, helping her with the knots. “How the hell did she become such a dirty sub?”

“Probably comes from being a lawyer and having to be so utterly in control all the time at work,” Mavis shrugged as they finally unlaced the boots from each other. “Thank the lord, I have legs again.”

Iolanthe mused as they removed the boots and Mavis padded across the room into a curtained area to finish changing.

“I never knew you were so innovative,” Iolanthe remarked dryly.

“You mean ‘I never knew you were so kinky’,” Freda said with a small smile. “I can’t take the credit, all the gear has been made by other people, I just helped with the concepts and I’m getting a great rate for the wedding photographs. It’s a pleasure to help my friends, and plus it means I get out of bridesmaid’s duty.”

“What exactly are your rates?” Iolanthe asked, intrigued.

“Depends on the event,” Freda said calmly. “You getting married again Iolanthe?”

“Oh no, three is my limit,” Iolanthe said brightly. “I’m running out of space in the dungeon for them.”

Mavis reappeared, looking glorious in a white jumper-dress and silver strappy sandals, the corset in one hand and stockings in the other.

“I take it that I need to keep these for the big day?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Freda agreed. “Well, she has her own stockings, but you can always stuff those in the gag, that should really get her going. Don’t forget to go pick up the chastity belt as well. Apparently John’s had one custom-made, just for the occasion.”

“Doesn’t seem fair that I’ve already partially broken in the heels and corset,” Mavis pouted.

“Just lace them tighter,” Freda stated calmly. “She’ll love you for it.”

“True,” Mavis said brightly. “I’ll see you at the wedding Freda.”

“Good luck catching the bride,” Freda called after her.

“Pffft, like I need luck,” Mavis said brightly, shutting the door after her.

Freda looked up at Iolanthe.

“Right, so, what are you actually here for?” she asked, intrigued.

Iolanthe strode over to the dress, admiring it.

“Well, it’s a query for a friend of mine.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, this friend of mine has an estate down south,” Iolanthe continued. “And he’s currently putting on an… art exhibition.”

“Sounds intriguing,” Freda said slowly. “What exactly is the subject of these… exhibitions?”

“It’s mostly sculptures,” Iolanthe appeared the over side of the dress. “Living sculptures.”

She gazed at Freda calmly.

“My friend invites a load of rich people to buy tickets to it, and it is one hell of a money-spinner, but at the end of the exhibition, there’s an auction of the artwork.”

“You sell people?” Freda asked, intrigued.

“Oh no,” Iolanthe said firmly. “That would be illegal. We sell photographs of the artwork.”

“Right. And ship them out in rather large boxes, I imagine.”

“Something like that,” Iolanthe gave Freda a predatory smile. “Unfortunately, the gentleman who usually takes these photos is now on trial for child pornography, and he’s been threatening my friend that he will tell the authorities that the actors in his little exhibition aren’t quite voluntary if he doesn’t help him. My friend doesn’t take well to blackmail, so we’re expecting a visit from the police on the day of the auction.”

“Sounds like quite the quandary.”

“Indeed. So naturally, my friend has recast the actors on the day, and will of course give the police free-reign on his house in all good faith, but that does still leave us short a photographer. So… How would you like an all-expenses paid trip to Wessex?”

Freda gazed at Iolanthe.

“That was an incredibly long-winded way of asking me if I wanted a gig taking dirty photos,” Freda remarked calmly.

“It’ll be nice to have some-one doing it that we can trust,” Iolanthe said calmly.

Freda paused.

“I’ll have to work out what rate to charge…”

Iolanthe pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Freda. Freda looked at it and her eyebrows shot up.

“No questions asked, I suppose.”

“No questions answered,” Iolanthe smiled sweetly. “That doesn’t factor in your equipment as we will providing that for you.”

“I have pretty specific tastes in equipment.”

“My friend can accommodate,” Iolanthe said calmly.

Freda got up and walked to her desk, neatly writing a list of equipment.

“I’ll need time to take the shots before the exhibition is open,” She continued.

“We expected no less, you’ll have a day to do so,” Iolanthe said calmly. “With extra time negotiable if you feel any shots need to be retaken. You will, however, need to be with us for the entire week. For security purposes, you understand? You will be welcome to enjoy the exhibition, and take part in the auction if you so desire.”

“What, buy back my own shots?” Freda snorted, handing her the list of equipment. “Does your employer have the necessary printing facilities?”

“Naturally,” Iolanthe said calmly. “All you need to do is give us the camera at the end of the day, and we’ll take it from there.”

Freda glanced down at the figure on the card.

“What on earth will I do with myself the rest of the week?” Freda asked her.

“Well,” Iolanthe gave her another small smile. “I’m sure my friend can find all sorts of things to amuse you.”

Freda smiled slightly.

“It’s not the week beginning the 16th is it?” She asked after a moment.

“No, it’s the 28th.”

“Oh phew,” Freda said with a smile. “I’d’ve hated to have missed the wedding.”