I am going to try a story in English for a change, see how that works out. Be gentle with me, this is not my native language and I’m sure I’m going to make mistakes. As always, comments and feedback will be much appreciated. Hope you all enjoy!
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“BL Photography, how can I help you?” A pleasant voice answered my call.
“Yeah, ah, hi, ah, my name is Monica, ah, I need to… I mean I want to, ah, have some pictures taken,” I stuttered nervously.
My name is Monica Sellers. I had recently celebrated my 45th birthday, and my husband had convinced me that now would be the perfect time to have some pictures made of me. You know, while everything was still in the right place, before old age set in. Well, he didn’t say that, but I’m sure he was thinking it; I know I was.
Of course, he was talking about racy pictures, boudoir type images, me in sexy lingerie, maybe some artistic nudes, nothing pornographic of course, but showing quite a bit of my body. My first reaction had been to scream at him.
“I’m not going to go to some guy I don’t know and strip in front of him, and let him take pictures of me in my underwear. Why the hell would I do that?”
Eventually we agreed on me finding a female photographer, someone I could feel more comfortable with than a man. I still didn’t like the idea very much, but I wanted to please my husband.
“Yes, of course, what kind of pictures would you be looking at?” the voice on the phone wanted to know.
“Well, see, I am not sure, ah, something like… ah, you know, ah… a bit sexy, maybe?” God, this was so embarrassing.
The female on the other end of the phone laughed. “No problem, Monica, I think I have a pretty good idea. Why don’t you come over to my studio on… let’s see, I have an opening for 30 minutes on Thursday, at 2o’clock, how does that sound? We can talk a bit, discuss what exactly you are looking for, and set a date for the actual shoot, once we figure everything else out. Would that be okay?”
Well, she sounded nice. A bit young, maybe, around 25-30 I guessed, but nice.
—
“Hi, you must be Monica? My name is Beth, I am the owner of BL Photography. You were talking to me when you called. How are you doing?”
“Ah, fine, thank you.”
“So, you want to have some sexy pictures done? Let me show you a few sample images, and you can tell me if you see anything you like, and we can go from there.”
Wow! Those samples ranged from harmless lingerie photos, fully covered, up to fully nude spread shots, clearly showing the privates of the women. What type of slutty woman would have a picture like that taken? And who would they show it to? No matter, that was definitely not for me. Beth and I agreed on a date, a time, and some outfits I should bring; we discussed makeup, hair, clothing choices, and the whole thing began to sound very professional, dry almost. It made me feel calmer. Beth was very nice, a young woman in her late twenties, wearing a very professional business suit, medium length black skirt, white blouse, matching black jacket, and low heeled beige pumps. After I got over my initial nervousness, we got along great, and by the time all the details had been discussed, I was almost looking forward to the shoot.
—
“Okay, I’ll be going then, wish me luck.” My husband looked at me with a blank expression.
“What do you need luck for? You are going to have your picture taken, you’re not going skydiving for heaven’s sake. How long are you going to be? I’ll probably go over to Henry’s later for a couple of beers and to watch the game.”
“I should be back in about three hours. Beth told me the shoot shouldn’t take more than two, so with the driving, I shouldn’t be more than three. Do I look okay?”
“Is that what you’re going to wear for the pictures?”
“No, of course not, I have some outfits with me, I can change there. What do you think, I’ll drive over there in my underwear?” God, sometimes this man could be so infuriating.
The drive to the photo studio took only 20 minutes. Saturday afternoon, in an balıkesir escort industrial neighborhood, the roads were pretty much deserted, and finding parking was no problem.
“Hey, Monica, how are you?” Beth greeted me when I opened the door to the studio, a small suitcase behind me. “Are those the outfits you want to wear? Great. How are you feeling? Nervous? Don’t worry about it, everybody is nervous when they come in for boudoir shots, unless they’ve done it before. Nothing to worry about, Hun, you’ll see.”
With all of Beth’s talking, I wasn’t able to get a word in edgewise, and before I knew it, I was changed into my white lingerie set, the one I had saved from my wedding, and ready for the first set.
“That’s it, girl, beautiful, stay like that, chin down a bit, little bit forward, good, now look at me, great, hold that, perfect, beautiful, just like that, now lean forward more, little more, look to your left, great…”
In no time, Beth had guided me through the first set of lingerie pictures. Before I changed into the second outfit, a black pair of lace panties with a matching bra, holdup stockings and long black gloves, Beth showed me some of the pictures from the first set. I was amazed how beautiful I looked! So innocent, but still a bit sexy, the light in just the right places to show off my cleavage and my long legs, in my opinion my two best features. This was really going well.
—
The next two sets also went by quickly without any problem. Beth kept talking me through the poses, and with concentrating on her instructions I didn’t even have time to be nervous.
“Okay, so what’s left? One more change of outfit, right? What did you bring?”
“Well, I have two more outfits, I wasn’t sure which one I wanted to wear. One is a dark red bra and panty set, and white stockings and long white gloves. My husband says I look really good in that.”
“Great, and the other one?”
I hesitated, wishing I hadn’t even mentioned the other outfit, but it was too late now. “Oh, the last one is just a bodystocking, just plain nylon with some pattern, nothing special. I really think we should do the red lingerie.”
Beth looked at me questioningly, probably wondering why I had brought the outfit if I didn’t think it would look good. “Monica, let me see the bodystocking, please? We’ve already done three bra and panty sets, and a change of pace might be a good thing, give us some more variety, don’t you think?”
Hesitatingly I opened my bag and grabbed the bodystocking and held it up to Beth, who grabbed it with a smile. “Hey, that’s black! That should look really good on you. And the pattern is lovely, the holes all over will really show off your body nicely. Please, Monica, let’s try this, okay?”
Show off my body? That’s what I was afraid of. See, the bodystocking was, like most of these items, crotchless, and I was afraid it would show a bit too much of me. For the life of me I couldn’t remember why I brought that thing.
“Really, Beth, I don’t know… it might be a bit too… you know, not quite what…”
“Monica,” Beth interrupted, “put on the bodystocking, let’s see how it looks.”
When I came out of the change room, Beth smiled and complimented me on how great it looked on me, how well it accented my curves, how it shaped my bum, and how it made my boobs look so much bigger and firmer… I never stood a chance. “Alright, alright, let’s do it.”
We started with some standup poses, against a wall, leaning against a chair, even a few shots holding a stripper pole, something I had so far only seen in sleazy movies, before Beth finally had me move to an antique looking chaise resting against one wall.
“Let’s try some on there, Monica.”
Laying down? I hesitated, not sure if I would be able to do that, when Beth repeated her instruction, this time in a firmer voice. “Monica, sit on the chaise, please!”
I did as told, sitting on the edge of the beautiful piece of furniture, my knees close together, stiff and uncomfortable.
“No, that is not balıkesir escort bayan working, try laying down, legs that way, that’s good, stretch them out a bit more, prop yourself up on your left arm, good, hold that…”
After several shots, she instructed me to lie on my back, commenting as I went along. “Oh, that’s nice, that looks good. Wow, your little landing strip looks so cute, your husband will love these. Great, now pull your feet up and spread them a bit…”
At that point, Beth was very well aware that the bodystocking was crotchless, and the suggested pose would have exposed me to her gaze. I guess she didn’t care, because my hesitation only prompted her to repeat her command, for the first time sounding a little impatient. “Monica, pull your feet up and spread them!”
This time, I followed her command and Beth, after wrinkling her brow for just a second, continued shooting, lowering her own position to get a better angle on my by now pretty exposed private region for the camera.
“Okay, good, now turn around and get on all fours!”
I blushed furiously, and yet I didn’t hesitate this time to assume the instructed position, which prompted Beth to comment, “Good girl, that’s better, that is a nice pose, very sexy!”
Unfortunately I could imagine that only too well.
“Good girl, now spread your legs a little bit more, and lower your upper body, put your head down all the way!”
Blushing even more, I complied, not wanting to think about the picture I presented to this woman; this was way beyond what I had imagined myself doing, but it should only get worse.
“Wonderful, what a nice view, Monica, that looks really…” Beth hesitated, coming closer to have a better look. “Monica, are you getting wet?”
I wanted to jump up, throw some clothes over my near naked body and run out the door. To hell with the pictures, keep the money, just let me out of here.
“Stay, don’t move!” Beth’s words kept me pinned in place. “I’m beginning to think you like this, Monica. Hm? What do you say? Do you like being exposed for me?”
“No, of course not, that’s ridiculous.”
“No? Then why are you becoming aroused?” Beth inquired, not without cause.
“Please, just let me get up and…”
“No! Spread your feet further apart!” Before I had a chance to think, I found myself with my feet another six inches apart, enhancing Beth’s view for sure.
Suddenly, my photographer giggled. “Good girl, Monica, that’s perfect. Now I can really see your wet pussy, and I can take some great pictures for your husband.”
Oh god, Mike! What would he say if he saw pictures of me in this exposed position, with my pussy glistening with moisture seeping out of me?
“You like showing yourself off like this, don’t you?” Beth’s question hit me.
“No, I don’t!” I protested meekly.
“Put your hands on your butt cheeks, girl, and pull them apart, I want to see your little asshole!”
The crude language sent shivers through my spine, and my neck got cold, my heart started to race, as I did what I was told.
“Good, let me get some close-ups of that wet pussy, girl. And that cute little asshole is so nicely visible now, keep those cheeks spread for me girl.” Beth kept shooting picture after picture of me, documenting my humiliation for posterity. Why the hell couldn’t I move?
Suddenly I felt a hand on my butt cheeks. “You love being told what to do, don’t you?”
“No, really, I don’t,” I protested again, to no avail, not even convincing myself.
“Yes, you do you little slut.” Her hand on my butt moved in circles over my skin. “I think you like this a lot, Monica. Want me to prove it to you?” Slap! Her hand hit my bottom with quite a bit of force. “Why don’t you get up, Monica? Why don’t you leave? I’m not holding you, slut, you can just get up and leave. Why don’t you?” Slap! “Because you like it. I think you love it, my little slut.”
My head was spinning. She was right. Why was I showing myself to this woman? Why was I following her commands like a escort balıkesir schoolgirl obeying her teacher? I didn’t have to do this, I could just get up and leave!
“Play with yourself, little girl!”
No! I don’t want to! I wanted to scream, to run, to tell her to get lost, to slap her for a change and demand my money back and get out and… Oh no, no, why was my hand moving down to my pussy? I didn’t want this!
When I touched my pussy, I could feel that Beth had not exaggerated when she said I was wet. Actually I was dripping, my clit was swollen, my lips engorged with blood. For one second, I saw in my head the picture Beth was seeing, and that aroused me even more. What a sight I must be, displaying myself with spread legs to another woman, with my ass high up in the air and my hand touching my own pussy as I heard the camera click several dozen more times. God, she was still taking pictures?
“Good girl, keep it up, play with your pussy, make yourself cum for me, slut.”
By now, that was exactly what I wanted, but could I do that, in front of somebody else, somebody I didn’t even know? I felt so ashamed at my wanton display of lust, yet I kept rubbing my clit like a madwoman, wanting, needing to get off, unable and unwilling to stop.
I dared to look through my legs at Beth, who had pulled up a chair and was watching me like a live show on a stage in a strip club. No, not a strip club, a live porn show. In a strip club, you wouldn’t see the performers masturbate for the audience, nor the audience for the performers. Beth had lifted her skirt, her panties were hanging around her ankles, her own legs obscenely spread as wide as possible as she was masturbating herself furiously.
“Cum for me,” she instructed me. “Make yourself cum. Rub that pussy for me, my little slut, play with yourself. Show me, I want to see you cum.”
‘I wonder if she is still taking pictures.’ What an insane thought to have at that time, but I still wondered, as I inserted two fingers into my wet cunt and fucked myself for the benefit of my photographer. Did she like it? Did she like her little slut degrade herself in front of her? Did I like it?
And then the answers hit me like a hammer, and I came suddenly, hard, moaning without shame, not holding anything back. Yes, I liked it, I loved it. I wanted to be seen, to be heard, I wanted to turn her on, to make her hornier than she had ever been. I wanted her to look at me, at her shameless little slut bringing herself to an orgasm in front of her Mistress. I loved obeying her commands, no matter what they were. I wanted to bring pleasure to her, to be a good girl for her, a good little slut!
“Oh, fuck, yes, oh fuck…” Beth screamed suddenly, pressing her legs together, trapping her hand between her legs as her orgasm overtook her and I spread my legs even further, holding my lips apart with one hand, still fucking myself with two fingers of the other. Yes, Mistress, look at me, look at your little slut, watch me, look at me…
As Beth’s moans subsided, I collapsed on the chaise, exhausted, covered in sweat, breathing hard. I couldn’t look at Beth, I was suddenly more ashamed than I had ever been in my life. What had I done?
When I started crying, I felt Beth’s arms around me, holding me, consoling me with whispered words. “It’s okay, girl, it’s alright, everything is okay, don’t worry girl. Come now, don’t cry, Monica, it’ll be alright.”
It took several minutes for me to calm down enough to get to my feet. Not bothering with the change room, I pulled the bodystocking off and slipped back into my street clothes, Beth watching me the whole time. When I was dressed, I just stood there, eyes on the floor, not knowing what to do, until Beth took charge again. “There, Monica, that was a really good shoot, I’ve got lots of great pictures, I’m sure you’re going to be very happy with the results. Please come back on Tuesday, we’ll look over the images, and you can pick the ones you want for printing, maybe for a little album… we’ll make that decision together, okay?”
Come back here? I didn’t think so! I didn’t want the pictures, no way, I didn’t ever want to be reminded of…
“You will come back on Tuesday, 3:30, right? Right, Monica? You will come back!”
I looked at her face, her beaming smile, her bright eyes full of expectation.
Still with some hesitation, I smiled. “Yes, Ma’am!”