Chapter 40: Epilogue pt.4 – Melissa

I smiled as I read through Grace's latest email.

She'd been in the UK for the last two months, and she'd probably be there for at least two more, working on her latest gig. She'd done pretty well for herself after college, she went straight from school into a good job. Then from there she started working as a freelancer, and did well at that too.

Now Grace was in London, staying in a flat Lily acquired from one of her demonic enemies. She was living her dream as a fashion photographer, getting contracts and working assignments in Toronto, New York, Paris, Milano, and now London.

Most of that was on merit too, she put in the effort and practice and she was good at her work. Though to be fair, she probably got a little boost from her supernatural charms. As a part-succubus like me, she had certain advantages. Enough to maybe get her some opportunities she wouldn't have had otherwise. But her work stood on its own, and now she was building up a solid reputation in her field.

I typed out a reply to her, then started to pack up. It was just after five on a Friday afternoon, and I was ready to head home for the weekend.

"Hey Mels?" Rob called from his office before I could escape. "Can you come in here please?"

I left my purse on my desk and walked over to my boss's office to see what he needed.

"What's up?" I asked as I stopped in his doorway.

He was seated behind his desk looking at something on his big monitor. He glanced up and me and responded, "I was just going through your pictures from the Steinburg wedding last weekend. Good job by the way, I'm sure they'll be very pleased with your work. The thing is, there were some other photos on that memory card though that caught my attention?"

He tapped the remote on his desk and the big forty-eight inch screen on the wall came to life. I found myself looking at a very not-safe-for-work shot I took about two weeks ago, at home with my girlfriends.

In the centre of the image stood a busty blonde bimbo. Her arms were stretched up over her head, wrists bound in handcuffs and connected to a hook in the ceiling. Her legs were held apart by a spreader-bar cuffed to her ankles, and a metal ring collar was locked around her neck. The blonde's eyes were half-closed and her lips were parted in a look of ecstasy, like the image was captured while she was in the midst of a long happy moan.

Kneeling between her legs was a petite dusky brunette with long straight black hair. The brunette's back was to the camera, but it was obvious her face was buried in the blonde's sex and her tongue was hard at work. The brunette's hands were pulled behind her back and some sort of leather restraint was fastened around her wrists. A short length of chain linked her bound wrists to leather cuffs on her ankles. There was even a leather collar visible around the brunette's neck.

A second brunette was kneeling off to the right, arms behind her back and knees apart. Her chest and sex were both on full display. There was a lustful look in her eyes as she watched the first brunette and the blonde, she was posed like she was eagerly awaiting for her turn.

Just off to the left observing the action stood a tall redhead. She was wearing a leather bustier and thigh-high leather boots. She held a riding crop in her hand, and the haughty but interested look on her face made it clear the others were performing for her.

"I have no problem with you doing side-gigs and working on your own projects outside office hours Melissa," Rob said. "And if that includes boudoir or even pornographic work that's fine too. But please Mels, remember to swap memory cards. I don't want images like this to accidentally come up when I'm reviewing a wedding or a graduation, or gods-forbid some kid's birthday."

He didn't sound upset at all, if anything he actually sounded a little amused. But at the same time I knew he was serious, and more than that I knew he was right. And maybe the most embarrassing thing was it was a total Mara-move. I was usually a lot more careful.

"Sorry boss," I replied with a blush and grimace. "It won't happen again."

"Glad to hear it," he stated. Then he gestured at the screen, "For what it's worth, some of these shots aren't bad. A few of the angles are a little amateurish, and the lighting's a bit off here and there. Honestly not your best work Mels, I know you can do better. The models are pretty good though, they do a good job selling the action."

I bit my lip and forced myself not to smile as I replied, "Thanks boss. It was a bit of an unusual set-up, I had the camera locked off on a tripod and I had to trigger the shutter remotely. Lighting was locked-off as well, which is why some of the shots aren't the best. If I'd been in a position to frame and stage each picture I definitely would have done a better job."

Rob glanced at the other images on his monitor and commented, "In that case you did a pretty good. Though I'm sure at least part of it was the models were well trained, or under some experienced direction to stay in frame and where the lighting was best."

"Thanks," I said as I continued fighting a grin.

I didn't want to tell him the girls weren't models and they weren't acting, and I definitely couldn't tell him the blonde bimbo was actually me. If anyone looked too close at the outstretched hands cuffed and chained to the ceiling they might even spot the small wireless remote control I used to trip the shutter.

I stopped wearing that shape as my normal form about three years ago, back when I graduated my college photography program. Not that I regretted it, I very much didn't. But the simple truth was the sort of thing I wanted when I was an eighteen-year-old closeted trans girl who's brain was awash in the wrong kind of hormones turned out to be very different from the things I wanted as a young adult woman.

That big-titted blonde bimbo was absolutely me all through college. By the end of my second year however, my tastes and opinions and most importantly the way I wanted to present myself to the world had changed dramatically. So after I graduated, after I left school, I picked a new form for myself.

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The shape I chose was almost the polar opposite of the body I wore for those first two years. How I looked these days was basically what I'd have looked like if I'd been born right in the first place.

Average height, average build, wavy shoulder-length sandy-blonde hair, slightly tanned skin. I was sort of pretty in a girl-next-door way, but I no longer made people stop and stare. Guys didn't start drooling and gawking at my tits or my ass, and their girlfriends didn't give me angry or jealous looks anymore either. Mind you I could still make people look twice if I used my succubus skills. I still had that supernatural charm, but I could turn it on and off at will now. And these days I usually left it off.

Nowadays almost everybody I knew, everyone I worked with saw me as plain old Melissa. Where Grace was out living her dream and travelling the world as a glamorous fashion photographer, I was happy with a normal quiet career as a staffer at Rob's little studio. I worked as his apprentice and assistant, where I was just another twenty-something young woman trying to make it as a creative.

I still switched to my bimbo self now and then. It was a convenient way to pick up snacks when I was feeling hungry, a lot of horny young men went for that sort of thing when they wanted a fun one-night-stand. And I used that shape for some fun with my girlfriends the odd time, though they loved me no matter what form I took.

It also came in handy for special occasions like that shoot from two weeks ago. Mara, Mira, Susan, and I were doing some risqué photos as part of a project for Amber's store. She had a new line of BDSM gear and she was running an advertising campaign to promote it.

After another half minute or so of looking at those images, my boss finally suggested "Why don't you give my contact info to the blonde and the redhead? I could probably set them up with more work, if they're interested."

That wasn't a euphemism for anything, I knew he actually meant getting me and Susan more modelling work. Rob was gay, he wasn't the least bit interested in me whether I looked like this or the busty bimbo. And my succubus senses told me he wasn't looking for fun with Susan either.

"Not the brunettes?" I asked. "They might feel left out."

Rob grimaced, "Yeah... Not so much. There's definitely a market for twins in that business, especially if they're willing to go all the way with the act. What I saw in your shots though, neither of them sold it quite as well as the other two. No offence, I'm sure they were doing their best. But the blonde and the redhead looked like real professionals."

I suppressed another smile. I hadn't thought of it like that but as succubi me and Susan actually were professionals when it came to sex. As models, not so much. And even though Mara and Mira were both part sex-demon, the two of them still came across as a bit too mischievous in a few of the pictures. Neither could really sell the 'sex slave' vibe we were going for in that shoot. Which was ironic for Mara at least, because she was actually a much better actress than either me or Sue.

"Ok boss I'll let them know," I told him. "And sorry for leaving those pictures on the memory card. It was for a friend, an advertising project she's doing for her sex-toy shop."

Rob turned off the big display and nodded, "It's ok Mels. Just be more careful next time. Have yourself a good weekend, I'll see you on Monday. Don't forget we have an appointment at ten, corporate shoot in the west end. So dress sharp and be here by eight."

"Thanks boss," I grimaced. "First thing Monday morning's always my favourite time. You have a great weekend too."

I grabbed my purse on my way out the door, and headed over to my old car. It was the same one I'd been driving since I was seventeen, and it was used when I got it. It still ran ok though, and I kept it well maintained. Every now and then I thought about getting something new. Maybe a hybrid, or maybe all-electric like Susan's. I still worried about running out of charge on a long drive though. And anyways, my car still worked ok. I didn't really need anything newer yet, even if I could afford it.

It was more than half past five by the time I pulled out of the parking lot, and I knew traffic was probably going to be an issue. Luckily work wasn't that far from home. I still expected to be the last one there again.

I loved working with Rob but he was a bit of a workaholic and he tended to assume everyone else was the same. And it was the sort of job where you could easily put in a lot of extra hours. We did loads of events, and they didn't always take place in a Monday-to-Friday nine-to-five timeframe.

Like last Saturday I worked from noon till nine at night on that wedding. Granted there was a two-hour break in the afternoon, but between the ceremony and the reception that was two set-ups, two tear-downs, travel-time, then the actual shoots.

That's where we made our money though. Weddings, corporate jobs like the one coming up on Monday, other events like that. Those were the jobs that kept us in business, but it was the stuff we did on our own time that was actually fun. For Rob it was landscapes and architectural shots. For me it was street photography and shooting porn with my girlfriends.

Two or three times a year my boss would close up shop to go on a trip somewhere remote or exotic with his husband while he worked on his personal projects. And I'd spend one or two days a month taking pictures of people going about their business downtown, or at street festivals, or fairs, or basically anywhere there was lots of people around.

And it still made me laugh now and then, to think that I found a career I loved because my best friend wanted to be a cam-girl and thought a college photography program would teach her how to take better nude selfies.

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