Vestiphobia Pt. 03

A few things made this experience different from the party. The room was well-lit. Everyone, especially Lisa, was thoroughly sober. And they could all see her face. She was being studied, intensely, from every angle, by trained artist eyes. There was no chance any of these students would fail to recognize her on campus. At least her pose was a modest one.

"Sara, let's switch things up a bit," said Prof Galloway, just as Lisa was starting to becoming somewhat comfortable. "I'd like a nice arch in the back for this next pose." Galloway put her arms behind her back and momentarily leaned her head back, intending Lisa to follow suit.

Lisa shifted uncomfortably and bit her lip. So much for modest poses. She reluctantly removed her arm from her chest, letting her breasts loose. She noticed all too keenly the effect this had on the male painters.

Galloway, impatient, jerked in and out of the leaning position another couple of times. Lisa caught her eye and nodded, fighting to remain expressionless as she shifted on the cushion. She placed her elbows down for support and arched her back, bringing her head down and sticking her boobs out. Long blonde hair cascaded down below her, and she felt blood rush to her head.

"Thank you, Sara," said Professor Galloway.

The air filled with the sound of rustling papers, and the once again with the sound of pencils. Lisa looked up at the patterns on the ceiling, grateful that this position did not allow her to make eye contact with any of the artists as they formed the shape of her upturned breasts. The thought made her blush.

Galloway clearly appreciated the discomfort of Lisa's current pose, so she did not make her hold it for long. She encouraged her students to replicate the pose in a few strong lines, with the minimum of detail added before it was time to change.

"Let's have you on your side, Lisa. A nice recline, if you would."

Lisa let out a relieved breath as she released the arch in her back, and then rolled over onto her side, supporting herself on one elbow. This pose required her to uncross her legs, giving half the class a view of her ass, and the other half a look at her breasts and neat blonde landing strip. And she could make eye contact with the second half, though she tried not to.

The gazes of the artists were quick, darting, and very serious. An older boy with brown eyes appeared to be working on the curve of her hip, and a girl about her own age briefly studied her feet. A couple of younger guys kept sneaking glances at her breasts, but were so erratic and embarrassed about it that they couldn't have been doing a very good job actually drawing them. Lisa smiled to herself as Prof Galloway chided one of them, repeated stabbing his easel with a wrinkled index finger.

After this third pose, it was time for a break. Lisa pulled herself into a sitting position, slouching and letting her arms relax at her sides.

"Thank you, Sara," said Prof Galloway. "You've been excellent so far. There's a robe for you hanging on that screen in the corner, if you'd like."

Lisa looked in the direction indicated and saw a silk robe draped over the top of a wooden changing screen. She longed to feel the smooth fabric on her skin, to hide herself from the intense gaze of the artists, but knew that it was futile. "That's okay," she said, using all her willpower to sound casual and nonchalant.

"I assumed as much, considering how I found you wandering the halls," said the professor. "You're a natural. I do hope you'll model for us again."

The professor trotted off to talk to some of her class individually, and Lisa slowly rose from the cushion and subtly stretched her legs. Without a set pose, she felt awkward and fidgety. It would look ridiculous for her to start covering up after having declined Galloway's offer of a robe, so she tried to adopt as modest a stance as possible without betraying her discomfort. She kept her legs close together, but not touching, and fidgeted with her hands to avoid placing them over her breasts.

"Sara, come take a look at what you've inspired," said Prof Galloway, beckoning her over. "No masterpieces, I'm afraid."

Lisa walked stiffly towards where Galloway stood behind the easel belonging to a mousy, freckled girl with large glasses. The girl looked down at her feet, unable to make eye contact. Was it possible that she was more embarrassed about her sharing her art than Lisa was about being naked?

The drawing of Lisa in her reclining pose was familiar enough to bring a blush to Lisa's cheeks. The girl hadn't drawn in her face, but the body that Lisa had spent so much time looking at in the mirror was all there in black and white. Lisa marveled at the detail the girl had managed to evoke with so few pencil strokes.

"I love it," she said, causing the girl to lift her eyes for a moment, a smile spreading across her freckled countenance.

"Now, now, don't let the praise get to her head," said Prof Galloway. "A solid effort, Miss Jenkins, but the legs are a little stubby, no? Sara here has beautiful, slender legs."

Lisa looked away as the professor and Miss Jenkins spent a moment studying her bare legs.

"Yes, I see it now," came Jenkins's quiet, high-pitched voice.

"You might do better on the next pose."

Prof Galloway led Lisa around the room, on a tour of the artists' renditions of her body. Miss Jenkins's was among the best. Many were misshapen, or had unsteady lines, or looked a bit too stylized. Still, there was some good art mixed in with all of it. One of the older male students had done a fantastic job of drawing her butt--even she was shocked that it looked that good.

More than the paintings, Lisa dwelled on the reactions to her body, up close. Some of the politer students held firm eye contact with her, or kept their eyes on their easels, but others devoured her with their eyes. And she, playing the part of the nude model who was too at-ease with her nudity to even bother to put on a robe during her break, had to stand there and take it.

"Take a good look at Sara's breasts, Mr. Renwick," Prof Galloway demanded of a young male student as she tapped his easel disapprovingly. The student did as commanded, face burning up. Lisa looked up at the ceiling.

"They are not balloons stapled to an ironing board! Please note the effects of gravity! The teardrop shape! One would think young men in this day and age spent enough time looking at women's breasts to be able to draw them correctly."

After Mr. Renwick had made a few corrections to his work, Galloway allowed Lisa to return to her spot in the middle of the room and assume the next pose.

"For this one, I'd like you standing, legs wide, hands on your hips. A proud warrior pose."

Lisa did as she was instructed.

"Wider stance."

Lisa bit her lip as she inched her feet apart, wider and wider, until Prof Galloway allowed her to stop. She could feel a breeze between her legs, and knew that the artists could now see more than just her landing strip. Renwick in particular stared openly, clearly taking his professor's advice to spent more time studying the model.

While her face remained blank, Lisa struggled internally. She'd always been a modest girl. Apart from that one week in preschool, she'd never had a strong desire to go naked. She loved clothes, loved picking outfits and getting all dolled up. Her style was sophisticated, professional. She wore jeans with boots and she wore polonecks. She wore one-piece swimsuits, though usually backless. She loved accentuating her hourglass figure, but she had always tried to leave as much to the imagination as possible.

When she had no longer been able to wear clothes, she had spent weeks hiding in her dorm room, darting out only for showers. Sure, there had been the streak, but there everyone was naked. And then there had been the party, and the VIP room, and the hands and the tongues.

And now she was standing naked in the middle of an art classroom, boobs out, legs wide, pussy lips on full display. All on the same day as she had presented her naked body to a guy she'd just met, then kissed him and rode naked on his back. What was she becoming?

"Thank you, Sara," said Professor Galloway, after a shorter time than usual. "While we have a model of your calibre, I would like to try some more complex poses."

Lisa nodded, dropping her arms and brought her legs back together. But her relief would not last long. The professor asked her to lie down on the floor, and then lift her legs up in the air. Lisa did this obediently, but the professor indicated that she should go higher.

"This is an upside-down pose."

Lisa planted her elbows down firmly for support, and lifted her butt up in the air, above her head, until only her upper back remained on the floor. The professor nodded, and directed her to keep her right leg straight up and bend the knee of her left one.

"Wonderful!"

Once more, the air was alive with the sound of graphite on paper. Galloway instructed her students to focus on the gesture of the pose, so as not to make Lisa hold it for too long.

From her new position, Lisa found herself looking up at her stomach, pussy and thighs. It was an uncomfortable position, but not as much as she had expected. She found herself holding it with surprising ease. This close, she could see some hints of muscle definition in her stomach that she hadn't noticed before. Mostly, she was grateful that her legs were quite close together. Though her right was starting to feel heavy.

"Thank you, Sara. You're holding that very well. Now, if you wouldn't mind, please bring your legs out to the sides."

It was like there was a direct path from the professor's orders to Lisa's body, a path which completely bypassed her conscious mind. At once, her legs fell open, splayed for all the world to see. Lisa heard low whispers and the sound of suppressed gasps, and her face reddened. Somehow, the universe had found a way to make her feel even more naked. Her completely exposed pussy was the central feature of this pose! Why was she doing it?

"Focus on gesture!" said the professor. "Quick, confident strokes!"

Lisa hoped that meant the artists wouldn't be dedicating too much time to the details of her labial folds. But she knew that many of them would be committing the image to memory regardless.

An earsplitting siren shocked Lisa out of her contemplation, and even made her drop her pose. But no-one around seemed to care.

"Fire alarm!" Prof Galloway shouted. "Please make your way to the fire exits at once!"

The students dropped their pencils and scrambled out of the hall, followed by the professor. Lisa's heart sank at the prospect of having to leave the classroom as she was, but she had little choice. Exposing herself to even more people was, she supposed, better than being burned alive.

"Come, come, Sara," said Prof Galloway, placing a hand on her back and pushing her towards the door. "I don't think we have time to fetch your robe, I'm afraid!"

Lisa rushed ahead of Prof Galloway and burst out of the classroom. The siren was deafening.

A wave of people from other classes streamed by, many of them staring as they passed. Fire or no fire, Lisa was an eye-catching sight. Thankfully, the whole crowd kept running, rather than stopping to gawk.

Suddenly, Lisa heard a whoosh, and she was engulfed by fabric. An arm pulled her in, and she felt skin against her skin.

"Got you!" said Colin, who was now holding Lisa against his side, open flannel shirt draped around her. "Don't worry, this isn't a real fire. I pulled the alarm so we'd have a distraction. Let's get out of here."

Colin led Lisa quickly in the opposite direction from where the crowd was headed. They turned a corner, and found themselves alone.

"The entrance is just down there," Colin said, indicating a stairwell with his chin. "In the basement."

Colin's sneakers and Lisa's bare feet pounded across the floor as they raced towards the stairwell. The last thing they needed now was to be caught by a professor and made them exit the building.

They flew down the stairs, taking two at a time, and soon found themselves in the basement. It was dark and dingy, and the air smelled of dust.

"The entrance is right down here, behind the boxes," Colin said, ushering Lisa to a corner of the room.

And indeed, behind a stack of moldy cardboard boxes, stood an iron door. Colin released Lisa and walked towards it. It was a heavy door, but it wasn't locked or stuck, so Colin was able to force it open with a few shoulder pushes. Beyond it lay inky blackness.

"Ladies first," said Colin, lighting up the tunnel with the flashlight on his phone.

Lisa gingerly picked her way across the dusty basement floor and squeezed through the gap in the door. She sensed the light from Colin's phone drop slightly as he took a moment to check out her ass.

"Hey!" she shouted. "Let's focus on navigation, okay!"

"Sorry!"

Colin took a moment to shut the door behind them, and then took his place by Lisa's side. The fire alarm had turned off by now, and the two of them took a moment to catch their breath.

"Colin?" said Lisa, looking up at Colin's dimly lit face.

"Yes, Lisa?" Colin replied, turning to face her.

There was a loud SLAP as Lisa's palm made contact with Colin's cheek.

"Ow!"

"That's for abandoning me to me that art professor!" Then Lisa stood on her tiptoes and leaned in to Colin. This time, their lips made contact. "And that's for rescuing me from her."

Colin wrapped his arms around her, and she around him. "I really hope you know how to get to the Usman Dorm from here," Lisa whispered.

To be continued...