He opens the door of the studio, and I look up, and up. He is so tall and I have just made my way across London in my flats for comfort. I feel like a little girl, I look like a little girl.
I manage to squeak out a nervous hello as he lets me in. Inside my heart is already pounding through anxiety. He will be photographing me today, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I have no idea at this point if I’m more nervous about the shoot or the fact that I have no idea whether he will use me before, during or after; or never.
He is being all normal and professional, starting small talk, ‘Did you find it ok?’. It completely unnerved me since we had exchanged so much filth over the last few days I could have jumped him right there. He knows, I thought, he knows this is driving me insane and I’m barley through the door.
‘Ok, so this is what we’re going for…’ He showed me some examples on his laptop of these beautiful nudes that looked nothing like me. They were all gazelle-like and elegant, but tasteful. I never planned on showing off my crotch in any obscene manner for the camera, so at least that was ok.
He offered me a drink, ‘Water, tea…wine?’
‘Wine.’ The word fell out of my mouth, and I was slightly relieved that maybe this wasn’t going to be 100 percent professional after a couple of glasses, that was until he made himself a coffee instead. Now I felt like a fool clutching my glass, trying to resist downing it.
More small talk. Oh my god be normal! I was screaming in my head. This is weird!
When he said, ‘Lets get started then shall we.’ I decided to stop second guessing the situation because now I had to get comfortable with being naked on camera.
I don’t have many body insecurities, I try to be grateful for what I’ve got. But baring all for a camera brings them all to the surface. Suddenly I’m short, my thighs are too big, my arms to bulky, my tits too small, my tummy untoned and my face asymmetrical. I was being more than hesitant about getting my kit off.
I took another sip of wine trying to hide it. But then I was frozen on the spot, waiting, for…I don’t know what.
‘I’m not sure…I….’ I stuttered, and fell into silence.
He didn’t respond for what seemed like ages, looking down, fiddling about with wires attached to his cameras. I waited, watching his every move.
He then put down what he was doing, strode over without saying a word, removed the glass from my hand and manhandled my clothes from my body. I was breathlessly gasping, my limbs were slack and I didn’t protest.
‘I don’t have time for you to start getting all pathetic and coy about being naked in front of me.’ A few final tugs and I was naked standing on a pile of my discarded clothes, clutching my hands at my chest.
I was like a rabbit in the headlights, bracing my self to flee but frozen on the spot. He stood back and looked me up and down.
‘…not that you have anything to worry about.’ And then handed me back my glass of wine. I smiled and looked at the floor all bashful. I took a couple of greedy gluggs, suddenly feeling more relaxed in my happy state of naked disgrace, but at the same time not relaxed at all.
He didn’t even say anything after that, just pointed at me then at the area set up like a bedroom for the shoot. I pit-patted my bare feet over the white floor underneath the unforgiving studio lights. I sat on the dressing table stool and bought my knees to my chest instinctively. He still wasn’t saying anything!
As my eyes recovered from the sudden brightness he was looking at me. He grinned, ‘Just a couple of test shots.’
While I waited goosebumps were forming on my skin and I realised how wet I was. I run over the moment of him roughly, inconsiderately undressing me. I had my eyes closed when he interrupted. ‘Size four right?’ and presented me with a pair of shoes. What more could a girl ask for but shoes! I wondered if I could keep them. He placed them on my feet and produced a pair of leather cuffs for my wrists. ‘That’s all you’re going to be wearing until I let you leave here.’ Somehow he managed not to touch my bare skin, oh yes, I noticed. I tried not to glare at him, I had convinced myself he was teasing me, was this all in my head?
Then he took up his position behind the camera and began to give me direction. I tried my best, I felt foolish, I felt so very, very naked! In between my nervous giggles he would give me encouragement, but he continued to remain professional and I was getting frustrated by it.
I was finding it increasingly difficult to keep my composure. I could feel a tantrum brewing inside me. Oh my god just touch me! I wanted to yell. The camera wasn’t nearly giving me the attention I really wanted, but how do I get it? I was getting so impatient. I knew asking would get me nowhere, and I was too embarrassed to even think of saying anything anyway, perhaps I could tempt him. Maybe if he saw how wet I was he might do something?
I started changing the poses slightly, moving a little more this way or that, making sure he saw more than he had planned to photograph of me. No reaction. This was getting pathetically desperate now. I felt like a right hussy. I knew if I continued this way I could just end up getting a good hiding, but even that was something!
Ugh, what am I supposed to do? Then he decided to take a break. He draped a dressing gown over my shoulders, handed me a refilled glass of wine and wondered off to make another coffee. I looked at him hopelessly as he walked away. Then I sat staring into the middle distance trying to not think about having a danger wank.
So what did he do?
Did he finish the photo shoot then send me home alone, obviously frustrated and unsatisfied?
Did he walk back in the room and use me and still send me home frustrated?
Did he punish me for being such a hussy?
Did he fuck me and photograph me after, or during?
Did he punish me and photograph the results?
Did he even get around to taking anymore pictures at all?
The possibilities are endless…
I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to end so I thought I would ask you guys. I will attempt to write your ending. Let your imagination run wild!
If there’s an outstanding number of votes for something then I will go with that. But if something particularly interesting is suggested then maybe I’ll go with that instead. Sorry guys, there are no rules here except that a story needs finishing. This is just for fun, the prize is a finished story dedicated to you!
Suggestions in the comments please.
What do you want to happen to me?
What would you do to me?
Comments are now closed. Read part two here.