Chapter 1: Z - Getting Started

Ever had a job opportunity just drop in your lap? I did. But first some background is in order.

I’m Z. My mom named me Zelda after the princess in her favorite video game. But everyone calls me Z. Pronounced Zee, not Zed. I lived with my mom and my 2 years younger sister, Fran. Mom worked as a model. Not every lady of 31 could do that, but she could. Thinking back I’m pretty sure she did a little hooking on the side. I do remember babysitters at random times. I thought she was dating, looking to replace her ex.

I do not remember our dad, the ex. He split when I was 2 and Fran was a baby. From what little mom said about him she was glad to have him gone.

Mom had her name with several modeling agencies and a number of independent photographers. She tried to work when we were in school, but sometimes she had to take us with her.

Her photographers loved her as she was never shy about changing outfits. Dress off, full nude, new dress on. No dressing room required.

Our mom liked to be nude. Almost always in the house. Almost never outside - except in our backyard. She had an overall tan without having to pay for a tanning salon. She kept her pussy shaved. She liked it smooth and it helped for swimwear photo shoots. In thinking about it now, she was one hot mom.

Fran and I were nude around the house from the time we were potty trained. We have always been comfortable wearing the skin we were born with. It’s good it grew with us. I would rather have been naked in school but that would never happen.

My period started when I was 11. Not being a panty user I used tampons.

There was no sex-ed in schools but we weren’t stupid. We knew boys and girls used different bathrooms. I snuck into the boy’s bathroom once. Fran was on the lookout. Nobody saw me. I kind of knew that boys peed standing up and I guessed that those fixtures on the wall were for that. Interesting, but not impressed. Mostly I remembered the dirty floor. I had no desire to return. I was going to stand watch while Fran had a look but she took my word for it and never entered.

There was one specific event that changed my life. Well, not so much changed as triggered something that was already there just waiting for the right trigger. I was 13, Fran was 11.

It started out like a normal non-school day where mom had to take us to work. We had homework and mostly ignored everything around us. Somewhat before the photographer finished the studio started filling up with the next group. They promised to let him finish while they were setting up. A boy, also with homework, sat down near us. From his history book, he was one year behind Fran. I mumbled something about take your kids to work day.