Author's note: I am not a part of the BDSM scene and this is my first attempt at writing a story for this audience. I welcome constructive comments from those of you who enjoy this type of story, perhaps I will do more in the future.
As usual, all material is copyrighted and is presented for your personal use and enjoyment.
My name is Jacob, and I am a photographer. I've had a camera in my hands for most of my life. After high school, I attended college and received a Bachelor of Fine Arts with a minor in photography. I'm quite good at it and my work has appeared in major publications. Landscape photography is my joy. Growing up I spent hours hiking, camping, and hunting, enjoying the outdoors. I've traveled the world just to capture an outdoor experience. But, creation doesn't pay you to take its photo, and while I have been published in some outdoor magazines it is a highly competitive field. Nowadays, everyone has a camera in their pocket, and they can rival some of my portable professional equipment. What pays the bills, and has been published the most, are my portraits. Weddings are lucrative but bridezillas and momzillas do exist and are stressful to deal with. What I'm best known for is my erotic photography. I have a knack for making anyone look sexy in a photograph. They say sex sells and that is true. I've done everything from dating profile photos to full nudes. I have even photographed for men's magazines. Having been a photographer for about ten years, I've seen many things. I hope to share this one of the many stories with you.
Hippophile (noun) - someone who loves horses
I first met Sophia by chance in a local grocery. Since I am nearly six feet tall it is not uncommon for women to request my assistance in reaching something on the upper shelves. This is how I met her, seeking a bottle of French vinaigrette salad dressing. I was near the middle of the aisle looking at mustards, something grainy and bold for slathering on the bratwurst in my cart.
"Excuse me, sir," she said as she approached me, her tiny voice like musical notes, "could you help me? I'd like something off the top shelf and, well, I'm a bit vertically challenged as you can see."
I could see. She was not much more than five feet tall, but what a gorgeous five feet! I surmized that she was probably twenty years older than me. Her hair was blonde trending toward white, such a light shade that, at first, I thought she was white-headed. Her skin was tanned but smooth, she clearly took care of herself, and she was thin but shapely, plush in all the right places. The thing that truly caught my attention was her eyes, hazel eyes, they seemed to glow.
I helped her with the dressing she was after and as I reached for it she noticed my shirt. Like most days I was wearing a polo with my business name on it.
"You're a photographer? Do you go to people's houses and take pictures?" she asked.
"I don't take photos of houses," I explained.
"No, no, no, I want pictures of my horses."
"Oh, well then yes, I could come to your house and photograph them," I said with a smile. People who want professional animal photographs are typically passionate and willing to spend big bucks. I gave her my business card and told her to call me during business hours and we would discuss some details, agree on a price, and schedule a date and time.
As she walked away I gazed at her bottom, round and luscious. There was something about her, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Maybe it was her voice with its musical quality and slight tremolo. Maybe it was her stance as we interacted, feet apart, shoulders back, but yet relaxed and open, almost like she was waiting to be picked up and carried away.
The next morning, not long after opening the studio, the phone rang and it was her. We talked about the details of what she wanted, and where her house was, and I gave her a price for the job. She was satisfied with the price so we scheduled her appointment.
Over the next few days, I researched photographs of horses, looking for a creative spark so I could give her something unique, something she hadn't asked for. I found it in some of my prior work.
At one time I had done a shoot for an online men's magazine where the woman was featured in various poses with a horse. I returned to my files for that job and found the images as well as some short video clips of her riding. I had no intention of suggesting that Sophia undress for her session but the photographs were incredibly sexy and I figured I could capture some of that even with Sophia fully clothed.
The day of the session came and having packed all my gear the night before I had a leisurely start to my day. It was a 30-minute drive from my house to her farm and the appointment wasn't until 9 am.
Arriving at the farm I saw her already at the barn. We waved to each other and she pointed to where I should park. I got out of my car and went to the trunk to start gathering my gear. In the meantime, Sophia joined me.
"Good morning, Jacob. Any problems finding my little bit of heaven?" she asked.
"None at all," I replied as I turned to her.
My jaw nearly hit the ground. She was dressed in tight black denim jeans with black boots, a black belt, and a sparkly buckle. Above the waist, she wore a tight blue shirt, and a wide-brim felt hat with a telescope crease. I could see through her shirt well enough to detect her black lace bra, nestling her breasts. She looked delectable standing there in the same stance as in the grocery. Was it because of our height difference, I wondered? She noticed the look on my face and blushed.
"Will this outfit be all right for the photos?" she asked and she did a slow turn. The jeans accentuated her figure perfectly and I wanted to reach out and touch her bottom as she turned her back to me and smiled over her shoulder.
"I think it's perfect if you are going for the sexy western horsewoman look," I managed to choke out.
"I looked at your website and it seems that making women look sexy is your specialty, but I'm afraid that I might be a bit overdressed compared to some of your models."
"Nudity isn't necessary for a woman to look sexy, the right clothing leaves just enough details to the imagination."
By this time she had thankfully turned to face me again because looking at her backside was causing a stirring in my pants.
"Are you saying that I might not look good nude?" she said as she stuck her bottom lip out in a pout and caressed her body from her breasts to her hips.
The stirring in my pants was back with a vengeance and was quickly approaching a full-on boner. Struggling to suppress it I turned back to my gear.
"You hired me for a job," I said, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism, "and if you want some nude photos then I can do that for you."
She smiled sweetly at me and said, "I'm sorry to embarrass you, Jacob, I know we didn't talk about nude photos over the phone, but I looked at your website and, quite honestly the nearly nude photos got me a bit excited... just like you are now."
Great, she's given me a boner and she knows it, I thought to myself.
"Why don't we get the shots we talked about and then you can decide if you want some that are more risqué?"
She agreed and I collected my gear and then followed her to the barn. I had not quite lost my boner and it began to return as I watched her hips sway in those tight jeans.
She led me down the center aisle past several horses and stopped at one that had been peering out of the stall.
"This is Golden Cloud, my favorite, he's a palomino," she said as she stroked the horse, "I named him after Roy Roger's original Trigger."
"Do you want to start with him?"
"Actually, no," she said and she picked up a western blanket from a nearby rack, entered an empty stall across the aisle from the palomino, and laid in on a mound of hay, "I want to start with you. We should probably deal with that," she raised an eyebrow and looked at the bulge in my pants, "so that you can focus on the job."
"I apologize, Sophia. My penis is typically not this unprofessional," I said, "I could come back another day, once I regain my composure."
"Are you saying that on another day you might not find me attractive?" she said with another pouty lip as she undid the top button on her blouse, exposing a bit of lace.
"That's not what I... "
She held up a hand, interrupting me. "Why don't you set up your lights in here so you can shoot me like one of your website girls, maybe the issue is that you're imagining me naked and if we take away your imagination maybe your penis will behave."
"And if it doesn't?" I asked.
"Well, then I suppose I will have to be a bad girl."
I was dumbfounded. Thanks at least in part to my rampant cock, this job was not going as I expected. Though I routinely shoot erotic photos I've never had an issue like this before, and Sophia was still fully clothed. As I stood there looking at her she undid another button.
"You'd better hurry," she said with a grin.
I hustled back to my car and retrieved the remaining gear that I'd brought. We had talked about some shots inside the barn so I brought several lights and reflectors. During my trip to the car and back I wondered, is she a submissive? The talk about being a bad girl, the stance when I was with her, could they be subtle indications? I dated a woman for several years in college, her name was Pam, and she introduced me to BDSM, she was a submissive and needed a master. Like Sophia, Pam was short and had been attracted to me as a master due to my height. Was I seeing the same thing in Sophia? I decided that I would introduce some subtle phrases into our conversation to see how she reacted. Returning to the stall I noticed she had buttoned her shirt, and I asked her, "Did I say you could button your shirt?" She responded with a slight grin and immediately undid the top button again.
I quickly set the lights and had her stand in front of the blanket so I could take light readings, I adjusted the equipment, and then I had her sit on the blanket for another set of readings. With some minor changes of exposure, I found that one arrangement of the lights would work. I thankfully found that focusing on the job had allowed my erection to subside.
"Would you like some music?" I asked.
"That would be great," she said, "Country, of course."
I reached into my bag and pulled out a Bluetooth speaker about the size of one of my zoom lenses, linked it to my phone, and selected my "Sexy Country" playlist. She smiled when "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off" by Joe Nichols started playing.
"Just relax and slowly undress, don't stare at the camera but do make frequent eye contact with the lens," I told her as she began to sway to the music.
She began to undress and my erection returned. As I mentioned earlier, I have photographed for men's magazines but never have I had this much difficulty keeping my cock under control. I couldn't say for sure the cause, maybe it was her petite size paired with an ample bottom and breasts, but my desire to see her naked was almost overwhelming.
I had her alternate between standing and lying on the blanket as the music played and her clothes came off. I kept up my usual encouraging banter as if she was any other model, but I introduced some subtle dominant phrases and she became much more compliant than any of the models I'd shot before. I used phrases like, "you're doing so good for me baby," and, "good girl." If she hesitated I said, "I wasn't asking."
She was definitely responding to the DOM phrases and it was as if I was the customer and she was eager to please me. In short order she was nude, lying on the blanket. At that point, I told her to touch herself, and she responded by running her hands over her body and caressing her breasts, and then she surprised me by spreading her legs and parting her folds. I dropped to my knees and caught it all in multi-megabyte images. She began to masturbate so I switched my camera to video mode and just sat there capturing the scene as she did. I told her, "cum for me," and she smiled for the camera until her back arched and her eyes rolled back, she'd brought herself to orgasm just as I'd commanded.
"Did you get all that Jacob? Was I a good girl?" she asked, looking all dreamy-eyed as she lay there recovering.
