Ever since I was little, I've been an 'exhibitionist' and perfectly at home in front of a camera. I was always posing for the camera whenever dad got it out, which was often. My sister wasn't as keen, but never-the-less there were always lots of family photos floating about the house.
When I hit nineteen I was acutely aware that men were paying attention to me. I played up to that by flashing all the workmen in the area. I enjoyed the whistles and attention that I got.
It was a little after that that I became estranged from my family and moved away. That is another story and not one I'm willing to tell, apart from saying that some bad shit happened and to end it all, I moved away.
I got a room with a nice old lady and her husband and began working in a cafe as a waitress. This gave me the chance to flirt and tease the workers who used the place for breakfast. I always wore a very, very, short uniform skirt, which, when combined with my endlessly long legs, created havoc with the poor guys. They were always wondering if I had any panties on, often openly speculating within my earshot. I'd tease and flirt with them, hinting that maybe I did, and maybe I didn't, but all of us knew where the boundaries were, and it was all a bit of innocent fun.
But as I say, I've always been a bit of an exhibitionist, and there is one thing I'd always wanted to do, and that was a professional nude photoshoot. Not really for anyone else to share or see the photos, just for myself.
A friend of mine had set up a meeting with a local photographer called Mark who worked mainly in the glamour field. At first, Mark wasn't interested in seeing an amateur, but Tim showed him a couple of the photos my dad had taken of me and that had piqued his interest. A meeting was set up, and during that, it was agreed that Mark would be prepared to give me a chance with a shoot, and he even agreed to waive his regular fee if I was any good.
The shoot went off well. Apparently, I was a natural in front of the camera and hardly needed any direction at all. Certainly, a lot less than many of the professional models Mark normally worked with. I was enthusiastic and uninhibited; Mark even had to hold me back. The photos were a lot more "artsy" than I had expected. I suppose there was less, "get your tits out and show us your pussy", and more subtle shots where I was in a sweater and sat down, but my pussy was on show. As I say, very arty. That's not to say there weren't any basic full-frontal shots, there were, and plenty of them. Tim had come along with his wife to act as a chaperone, and we all had a great time. I think Tim really wanted to get a look at me in the flesh, so to speak. He'd seen all the nude photos of me on my computer and now he wanted to see the real thing.
Mark said that he'd be prepared to push my images through some agencies and he would pay me the going rate as a model, which is a lot more than I was getting as a waitress if I wanted to work with him. The idea appealed at first, but then I realised that this was different from doing a bit of flashing or posing for my own photos. Did I really want nude pictures of me in mags and all over the internet? Not really, so I declined.
Mark then made me another offer. He runs some classes for amateur photographers, and does some university courses as well, and he said he would be happy to offer me the gig as a model if I wanted it. I would get my choice of all the photos Mark took, but in return, he would pay me a reduced fee. Mark assured me that everything would be legal and above board. I would have complete control over all the images of me under a model release form. The idea appealed both to my exhibitionism, and the chance to get more photoshoots. I mean, what more could a girl with an exhibitionist streak want than to pose for a bunch of hopefully horny students?
So I did a couple of gigs with the students and one more with Mark. The images were stunning; the difference between a professional with a full studio setup equipped with proper lighting and props and the ones I posed for my dad was like night and day. And dad is a very good amateur; even Mark admitted that.
The session with Mark alone was a bit more hard-core in theme, but still very restrained. A lot more than I really wanted or expected. Mark was into the art side of things, while I had suggested we use some toys to spice things up a bit more.
One day Mark said that he'd like to do a bondage set with me, and he suggested he'd like to take it hard-core. Lots of chains, whips, gags, that sort of thing. Now we'd done some mild shots like that, but what Mark was hinting at was really hard-core. I wasn't sure. The other thing was I would be vulnerable in some of the positions, although I never had any reasons to doubt Mark's professionalism. I said I'd think about it, especially when Mark insisted that I have a chaperone of my own choice along.
Another thing I was doing at this time was I had started writing erotica and posting it on a couple of websites. I had been contacted by another female writer, who encouraged me and gave me help. She pointed out errors and subtle changes favouring the technical side of things than anything else, but her encouragement and support were fierce. We even wrote a couple of stories together, but as of yet, those have never been posted.
She encouraged, without pushing me to think about doing the bondage shoot. She'd seen all of my nude photos, even the ones taken by my dad. Some of them nobody else has seen apart from me. She'd been amazed at how casual I had been about them, but told me she thought I had a perfect body and that from what she could tell, I was a natural in front of the camera.
As all this was going on, I had re-established contact with my one year older sister, Sarah. She came to stay with me one weekend and the bond that we had was once again reconnected. I told her about what had happened at home and why I'd had to leave. I think she had half guessed anyway.
My author friend suggested that I ask Sarah if she would be my chaperone and even suggested that Sarah could dress up and act like a Dom in some of the shots. She has a very dirty and perverted mind, but is fun and that's what I like about her.
I talked it over with Sarah, at first she was hesitant about appearing in the shoot as she is married and wanted no nudes of her anywhere, not even a flash of her boobs. Mark said that was okay as he had the ideal outfit that would suit her perfectly.
Sarah agreed to at least accompany me to the shoot and see how she felt about joining in when she got there, but I could tell she was more than a little intrigued and wanted to be involved as long as she maintained her modesty.
The day of the shoot arrived, and we took the train to Marks studio, giggling like a pair of schoolgirls, not two women, one of whom was married, in their early to mid-twenties. I suppose it was all nervous energy.
When we got to the studio, Mark was the gentleman as always. We had a brew as his wife helped set up the stage and props, and then got the lighting rig ready; they work as a pair that way. She's pretty cool about him working with naked and semi-naked women all day, but as she's there, nothing is going to happen anyway.
Mark showed us the set he intended to use. There was a big cross that I would be chained to. Actually, it would look like I was chained to it, but the chains wouldn't be locked. There was also a trapeze, and a sort of love swing. I could tell Sarah was getting more interested and excited, as was I.
As soon as the first set was ready, I didn't waste any time, got my kit off and started posing. I think that Sarah was shocked at how casually I stripped off. The first few photos were nothing to get excited about, just me and Mark getting in the mood.
Then Mark got Sarah to chain me up as he never ever touches the models, and some of the chains were going into very intimate places. I could tell Sarah was hesitant at first as her hand had to wrap a chain between my legs and settle it against my pussy lips.
"It's okay, don't worry," I told her.
Mark took a few shots and then asked Sarah if she'd like to be in one. Sarah nodded her head. As she was wearing leather jeans and jacket, Mark didn't have to get her to change as the outfit worked exactly as he wanted. Sarah and Mark both made sure her face was never in shot. We did a load more pictures before having a break and changing the set.
Mark asked Sarah if she fancied getting into a costume. Sarah wasn't sure she wanted to, or even if she could do it. Mark told her that she would be revealing nothing more than a bit of cleavage and a lot of leg; she would have a mask on to match the costume and wouldn't even need to take her panties off. Mark had hit the spot with Sarah, as like me, she has incredibly long legs, although hers are a little slimmer than mine are and she loves to show them off.
Sarah was still unsure, so Mark got his wife to bring out the costume he had in mind. When we both saw the outfit, we knew that Sarah had no choice. She would have to wear it. It was a short, scarlet latex dress with a zip down the front. The skirt ended just below her bum cheeks while the top finished just above her boobs. It would mould to Sarah's body like a second skin when she put it on. There were a pair of matching shoes with leather ties that wrapped around her calves. They had heels so high they would be impossible to walk in, but in a photo, would look killer. Like me, Sarah was drooling at the outfit. I wanted to wear it myself, it was that sexy, and I normally want to do the nude stuff.
Sarah agreed to at least try the outfit on, but as soon as she said that, we all knew she would agree to at least some photos being taken in it. Otherwise why waste the time putting it on? Sarah went into the dressing area and put the costume on, re-emerging looking stunning, sexy as hell, and like a real Dominatrix, which was the very aim of the outfit in the first place.
In contrast to me, who has a figure that can best be described as Amazonian, with auburn, almost copper coloured hair, Sarah is more willowy in her figure with blonde hair, and piercing blue/grey eyes. One thing we both have in common is incredibly long legs. I stand at five-feet-eleven-inches in bare feet, and Sarah isn't much shorter than me. Now in the heels, she towered above me.
