Emma's leash was untied from the leg of the desk, and she was left to lie there, spent and exhausted, panting heavily as the saliva and cum dripped and dried on her body. Her owners and masters were bored of her now, and drifted back to work. Senan appeared by the desk, and helped her sit up by pulling one arm. 'You're a really good girl, you know that?' Emma nodded, aware that she was playing the role of a silly little creature, but getting a thrill out of being praised all the same. 'It'd be nice if we could commemorate today, wouldn't it?' He smiled, and she looked puzzled, until she clocked the Nikon in his hand. 'Now, don't act like a shy little princess. You're a fucking slut, a great one, and you're going to love this'.
He looked at her kindly, and kissed her on the mouth. Emma thought about it, thought about the erotic shoots with girls in wet tshirts that she looked at on Instagram while she touched herself at night, the moody black & white pictures of bondage and ropes that she admired, and couldn't think of a good reason to say no. 'Can I clean myself up?' she asked. He laughed, and pulled her hair playfully as he took the first picture, of her wide eyes, her disastrous hair, and her face a mosaic of dried cum and eyes lined dark with mascara.
First, he agreed that the skirt had served its use, and could go. In now nothing but a wet and stained shirt and torn stockings. Senan agreed that to let her go down to her bra was no bad thing. In this state, she knelt on the floor (fast her default position), and began to play with her clit as he took pictures of her. She leant back, and with her right hand pulled apart her pussy lips to let her first and middle finger caress each side of her clit, albet reluctantly, and with an awkward self-consciousness. Her initial shyness began to pass as she noticed the large bulge growing in his slacks. He was cute, and she wanted him to like her. Emma knew she was disappointing him with her modelling skills, and vowed to do better.