Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Here only the incipit of a new story I'm thinking on, but I publish it at the end of my Amica story.
'Look at that mess! Look at what a mess these photos! Where's your head! I've told you a thousand times that you have to watch where I tell you, not the air, in a vacuum, with that stupid expression! What do you think while you work! I have a thousand girls who are queuing up outside to be photographed, and what do you do? Think of the stupid stories you write for the blog of those perverts! Want to make the photo-model or the writer? You do not earn anything if you only write nonsense! '
'Mara, forgive me, I try to do exactly what you say, not every day I can be in the best conditions to take the photographs that you have in your mind!'
'No! No Luna, you're completely out! You have to tune your brain with mine! Otherwise we lose time in two, then, you know, the director of Vogue claims that the photographs are perfect, not just bodies more or less naked or dressed, wants girls with a face, with aggressive expression, he wants the Panthers, not the pussycats. I told you to make the model you have to melt your brain into mine, my every word is an order, you have to always stay connected to my brain, working in two, I'll photograph but you have to be an extension of my mind! You're not a model of Playboy where you just put it on display and then 'chissefrega', those who read Playboy just want to see how you pussy have! '
When Mara does this mean that she is angry, I rest humiliated, with downcast eyes, sitting on the stool in the studio, looking at tip of my shoes, playing with a bracelet, a ring or with the belt, I'm afraid that she want to replace me with another girl, she's right, there are not thousands, but millions who are waiting to take the place of those who have already arrived. And then, what would I do if I lose my job? The writer? Well, forget it, in a couple of weeks I would find myself starving, should I wear to make a 'entraineuse' in some night club, or worse, the bitch in some red light local!
'Enough for today! Meanwhile, we do not conclude anything, go and get yourself an enema because you have a swollen belly overflowing from the waistband of yours trousers, then pants pull out the flab that makes you this 'fat sausage' on the waist that look you like a sausage to grill. Take a nice hot shower, then a sauna, and go to sleep. Beware if you go out and go to the disco, tomorrow I want you perfect! '
I take off the dress that I wear for photographs, jewelery, make-up artist remove from my face makeup, wearing my jeans and simple t-shirt of thick wool with long, long sleeves, as a young girl, I have tears in my eyes that hide behind the large dark glasses, I mess my hair so that someone meeting me on the street cannot recognize me.
I feel like a beaten dog. Mara knows how to be bad, when she wants to be.
to be continued...
Forbidden Games
'Look at that mess! Look at what a mess these photos! Where's your head! I've told you a thousand times that you have to watch where I tell you, not the air, in a vacuum, with that stupid expression! What do you think while you work! I have a thousand girls who are queuing up outside to be photographed, and what do you do? Think of the stupid stories you write for the blog of those perverts! Want to make the photo-model or the writer? You do not earn anything if you only write nonsense! '
'Mara, forgive me, I try to do exactly what you say, not every day I can be in the best conditions to take the photographs that you have in your mind!'
'No! No Luna, you're completely out! You have to tune your brain with mine! Otherwise we lose time in two, then, you know, the director of Vogue claims that the photographs are perfect, not just bodies more or less naked or dressed, wants girls with a face, with aggressive expression, he wants the Panthers, not the pussycats. I told you to make the model you have to melt your brain into mine, my every word is an order, you have to always stay connected to my brain, working in two, I'll photograph but you have to be an extension of my mind! You're not a model of Playboy where you just put it on display and then 'chissefrega', those who read Playboy just want to see how you pussy have! '
When Mara does this mean that she is angry, I rest humiliated, with downcast eyes, sitting on the stool in the studio, looking at tip of my shoes, playing with a bracelet, a ring or with the belt, I'm afraid that she want to replace me with another girl, she's right, there are not thousands, but millions who are waiting to take the place of those who have already arrived. And then, what would I do if I lose my job? The writer? Well, forget it, in a couple of weeks I would find myself starving, should I wear to make a 'entraineuse' in some night club, or worse, the bitch in some red light local!
'Enough for today! Meanwhile, we do not conclude anything, go and get yourself an enema because you have a swollen belly overflowing from the waistband of yours trousers, then pants pull out the flab that makes you this 'fat sausage' on the waist that look you like a sausage to grill. Take a nice hot shower, then a sauna, and go to sleep. Beware if you go out and go to the disco, tomorrow I want you perfect! '
I take off the dress that I wear for photographs, jewelery, make-up artist remove from my face makeup, wearing my jeans and simple t-shirt of thick wool with long, long sleeves, as a young girl, I have tears in my eyes that hide behind the large dark glasses, I mess my hair so that someone meeting me on the street cannot recognize me.
I feel like a beaten dog. Mara knows how to be bad, when she wants to be.
to be continued...
I am already hooked!
