ALICE Ch 160

“OK, I’m sorry, I know I’m heavy,” Val says. It’s cute how frazzled she seems by the situation.

“You’re really not,” Alice replies, getting to her feet.

“Oh!” Val shrieks. Her legs tighten and she grabs Alice’s head to stay steady. “Oh my god!”

“We’re fine,” Alice says calmly, standing fully upright. She understands; it can’t feel very steady up there.

“OK. OK. Sorry,” Val replies, embarrassed.

The real work starts. Instructions are given, pictures are taken, and Alice tries not to think about what these photographs are trying to convey. It won’t be a zoomed-out shot of her carrying Val; it’ll be something close-up to focus on the implied nudity. That’s always Diorgasm’s gimmick. The stars of today’s show are Alice’s exposed face and Val’s tastefully hidden vagina.

Alice works extra hard not to think about what she’s feeling. They **** Val to scooch up a little so that everything is touching. Alice has to admit that if someone had told her that a part of her body was going to touch Val’s lady parts, she wouldn’t have guessed that it was the back of her head.

Deeply weird shit. The chipper little French photographer is bossy and possibly high on coke. Eventually, Alice figures out what they’re going for: they’re positioning a very flustered Val so that her fingers are in Alice’s hair. With artful framing and cropping, they’re going to create the illusion that Val is receiving oral sex.

In reality, Alice is facing the wrong way for that. It also raises other questions. Why the standing up? Why not fake it more directly? Why is Alice even necessary? All anyone will see of her is a bit of her hair with Val’s hands in it.

Well, the Diorgasm people are truly committed to authentic horniness and excitement. And Val is truly freaked out at being bottomless on Alice’s shoulders like this. In fact, it might even be a little stimulating for her; there’s some friction, after all. It’s certainly stimulating for Alice, who has to concentrate to stay soft. And why does she need to have her chest out? Probably for Val’s benefit. This is Val’s shoot. Alice is just the stepladder. Or the high chair. Whatever.

Alice can’t say that she minds, although she hasn’t begun to think about the ramifications of widely circulating imagery that will imply that she’s going down on Valeria Flores. Maybe that’s why the shoot is set up so that it’s physically impossible for it to be authentic; the ad will be sure to attract complaints of obscenity and such.

Completely insane. All of it.

Finally, she’s allowed to let Val down.

“Please don’t open your eyes,” Val frets, hurriedly climbing off.

Alice clearly hears her scamper away. Weird. Weird stuff.

“OK,” she announces, straightening up and opening her eyes. “I want to put some clothes on.”

“Not yet,” the photographer says, grabbing her arm.

Alice frowns, confused. The photographer indicates with her eyes. The door of another dressing room opens, and a shy figure in a white robe emerges.

Alice blinks stupidly. It’s Sasha Orlova.