“What I’m going to do, Marlena, is stand off camera and direct you through a series of poses. Just follow my directions. This is pretty straightforward. Nothing complicated.” She seems to be in true Domme form, which is still something to get used to; I suppose I’ve never really seen her ‘at work’. “So, up on the dais,” she motions to the raised platform, “and face the cameras. You might scoot the stool to the side for now.”
I follow her instructions, standing in the center of the platform, and wait for more. As much as I’d like to display a little poise under pressure, I can feel the anxiety gaining on me. Without my realizing it, I’m wringing my hands like a cornered kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Hands at your side,” Miriam remedies the problem with the stern instruction
