Chapter 1
Lost in submission
by Tracy
The photo studio has just opened.
It’s located not very far from my apartment. I need new passport photos.
I hate photos from a photo booth. Feel that look like my own mother in this pics. Tell me – any daughter wants that!?!
The studio was once a small toy store, probably 15 years ago. The dolls decorated between the pretty fancy photos in the shop window were probably “left overs” from that time. They reminded me of the dolls of my childhood, my mother had maybe even bought it here.
The photographer greets me with casual friendliness. “Hey, nice you’re here. My name is Roberta.”
“Hi, I’m Tracy.”
There’s no one in the store except us.
Roberta is definitely not a doll and not childlike either. She is beautiful in her own special way, as if she had chosen her beauty and her body herself and didn’t let any, possibly male, chromosome dictate anything to her.
There is nothing doll-like or decorous or childlike in her expressive, oval face with dark, curious and self-confident eyes, her slightly parted, curved lips and a nose that gives her face this admirable contour.
The small birthmark right next to Roberta’s nose looks like a message from her own continent, the continent of confident and free witches.
But I just find it sweet and adorable, like everything about her.
Roberta’s voice has a very confident tone. Somehow I also hear a hidden severity that immediately makes me think of submission.
I just can’t do anything about it, a little horny shiver immediately runs through my submissive soul and causes goosebumps.
Of course, she sees it. “It’s pretty cool in here, especially after the heat outside,” says her voice, which I’ve basically listened to now, with a slightly ironic sound.
It’s really a hot summer. She is wearing a casual, blue-striped, short-sleeved shirt. Her arms are covered with almost invisible blonde hairs that make me think about sex again. The top buttons are all undone and I stare perhaps a little too long at her boobs in the sheer light blue lace bra.
Of course she doesn’t miss that peep. She stares back, first at my boobs, which immediately want to nestle in her hands and then deep into my eyes and from there directly into my submissive soul. I know that if she wants, I’m her property, and she knows it too.
“Do you live around here?”
Before I can answer, Roberta asks further:
“You need passport photos? Or some pics for an application?”
The question is pretty obvious, because of my subtle make-up andwearing my serious-looking blue polka dot summer dress.
I’m about to explain to her that I hate pics from photo booth and that I’m here because her store is just a few blocks away from my apartment, but I can’t get around to saying anything.
“Sit down there!” says her stern voice.
With a wave of her slender, strong hand, she points to a large, somewhat old-fashioned-looking chair and then goes to her camera.
I obediently sit.
“Sit straight! The face to the camera! More to the left! Now a little more to the right!”
I try to follow her instructions, but somehow I can never get the head position right. Her voice doesn’t get louder, but it gets more stern and impatient with my stupidity. I feel at the mercy of this ruthless voice.
Finally she stands behind me, takes my face between her hands to turn it into the correct position.From one second to the next it’s dominance and submission.
to be continued
