Pose Ch. 01

He didn't answer—the poor guy was at a total loss for words. "Uhm... I..."

"I know you wanted a model. A hot body. I'm... I'm not that bad myself, you know?"

"I... never thought the opposite."

It was a small compliment, but it was enough to make me smile. "I can just show you. And if I look... the part... then we can do it. What do you say?"

First, he needed to blink a few times as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When he was sure, he chuckled while looking at my breasts. "Yeah. I'm in."

It made me giggle. I loved how he was so blatantly looking at my tits. In any other context, it would have been incredibly disrespectful, but now, it was hot. I called the models in the living room and told them to come. All seven men were now before me—six of them still didn't know what was about to happen.

I placed myself before them, in front of the white background. I looked at the models. They were SO hot... Manly men in the classic sense, with that Giorgio Armani perfume, Sean Connery-esque charm.

"So..." I said. "I, uh... I'm about to do something... Something I can't believe I'm about to do." I cleared my throat. "Matt's original photoshoot idea might not be dead in the water, because... Because I'm up for it." I could tell the boys hid their happy satisfactions out of respect, but boy can I tell you—they eyes lit up when I was finished saying that sentence. "If you're up for it, I... I'd love to be the naked girl next to you."

They were already nodding and encouraging me. "Are you kidding?" Chris said.

"Of course we're up for it."

Their genuine encouragement made me feel SO good about myself. I had never felt so desired and empowered before. "Ok..." I whispered.

I untied my hair. I took off my shoes and socks, took off my jeans and my shirt... The underwear phase was pretty embarrassing already, and I could feel my entire body tingling with arousal. That phase was soon gone, though, because a moment later, I had taken off my bra and panties. And there I was. The only girl among seven clothed guys... and I was completely naked.

Biting my lip, I giggled and shook my tits for them. They responded with "wow" and "beautiful." I slowly gyrated my hips and rubbed my breasts, slowly and gently like I had seen porn stars do in so many videos. I brought my hands to my hips and brought them back up to my breasts, repeating the sensual gestures many times. Then I turned around and looked behind me, at them. I arched my back and brought my ass out. I gave them an innocent look, "hope you like it" style.

"Perfect ass, Chloe," Pete said.

Hearing that made my arousal four times stronger. I was never much of a lubricator—being dry had often caused me uncomfortable penetrations, and I used far more lube than most women would like to admit, but I wouldn't have been surprised to be much wetter this time around.

"So, Mr. Photographer," I said, turning to Matt. "Do I look good enough?"

He gave me a cheeky smile. "Why don't you show me those tits again? I need to make sure."

My first reaction was for my mouth to drop wide open in mock shock. I sent him a look full of playful anger, as if I was offended by his language. Still, my entire body felt the intrinsic need to obey. I turned back around, placed my hands behind my back and proudly arched my back to present my breasts. I was like an obedient slave showing herself off to her masters. I couldn't feel any other way—I was nude and they were clothed. Matt nodded and smiled.

"You're perfect."

I couldn't help but blow him a kiss. Matt was just a casual friend, a classmate and a buddy. But now, naked like I was, it felt only natural to blow him a kiss sensually.

"Well then," I said, "let's begin."

Matt nodded and picked up his camera. The models joined me in front of the white background. Matt pointed his camera at us, but then he hesitated. "Remember," he said. "We'll be showing this to the entire classroom, tomorrow."

My heart skipped a beat. Every single classmate of mine — all guys — would not only see my naked body in full megapixel quality projected on a screen; they would also know how much of a slut I was. A slut who would strut naked around guys in suits and pose for her classmate. "I'm not sure about it yet... But you be willing to censor? Add black bars on my private parts and on my face so they never know it's me. I know it would kind of ruin the image, but..."

He winked at me. "Don't sweat it. You're showing off those perfect tits to me. I owe you that much."

I thanked him by jiggling my tits. I couldn't believe my classmate was talking to me like this. I couldn't believe I was naked and flirting with him. I couldn't believe any of it. He told to strike a pose, and I did. The guys behind me stood rigidly and crossed their arms. I, on the other hand placed my hands on my hips and arched my back, throwing up one eyebrow in a sort of "yeah, I'm naked and there's guys in suits around me, what of it?" attitude. We did a few pics like that, with me striking certain poses and mostly mimicking the sexy ones I could remember from magazines or music videos.

My face was ultra slutty; I kept my lips apart and my eyes looking hungry. For one of the pics, I stood in profile to the camera while the guys were behind me. My arousal and excitement made me sweat, and that sweat dripped from my breasts and made them glisten provocatively. It was so beautiful that Matt came closer and took a shot of my tits alone next to a clothed chest.

I couldn't stop looking at the models; I loved how masculine they looked and just how feminine they made me feel. Being naked is one thing—being naked around guys in suits made me feel even MORE naked. Their chests were fully covered with a suit and tie, mine was bare breasts bouncing around and glistening with copious sweat. Their shoes were black and classy, my feet were bare and cold. I was the only girl, and also the only one naked. It somehow made me feel even more feminine—I had never felt so girly in my entire life.

I was totally surrounded by testosterone, strong and dominant and rigid. Meanwhile, I was the only presence of the feminine, naked and exposed and vulnerable—yet so strong and confident at the same time. I had never felt more beautiful in my life. Between every picture, I kept noticing the model's eyes ogling my bare body. We'd make eye contact, both sides knowing I was being leered at lecherously—totally sexualized and objectified by the men, who were overwhelmingly in a position of more prestige and power through their clothes. I'd wink at them and blow them kisses, as if to say "I know you're looking. Keep doing it."

After ten minutes of posing in different ways with the guys surrounding me, I had enough. I needed to feel closer to them. I needed them to have even more control over my bare body. I asked Matt if we could do a series of pics where each of the boys held me, and he told me to go for it. We started with Chris. I placed myself against him with my back to the camera. My bare ass was completely exposed to it now. He placed one hand in his pocket and the other on my back, right above my ass. I threw my arms around his neck and pressed myself against him—he could feel my entire naked body against him, and I felt his hard-on behind his pants; the bulge rubbed the texture of the cloth against my now much wetter pussy.

"Are you O.K with this pose?" I whispered with my lips super close to his.

"Of course," he said. "You?"

"I love it."

"What do you like about it?"

"I don't know... Feeling girly. It's like I'm a damsel in distress." I giggled and started acting scared and vulnerable, like one of those female love interests in older superhero movies. "Will you protect me?"

He winked and nodded with the smoothness you'd expect from a James Bond. Matt called to me. I looked behind me and into the camera. I took on a concerned, helpless look and rose on the tip of my toes to bring my ass out even more. I could already imagine how perfect the picture was: a confident, strong man in a tuxedo holding a totally naked, barefoot woman seeking protection from his clothed, protective hold.

She looks helpless and vulnerable; she's exposed and nude, but she has the protection of a strong man, and his clothed figure makes her nakedness more naked, her sensuality more sensual and her womanhood more feminine.

We repeated the exact same picture with all six guys. When put together, they would tell an even more humiliating story: not only is this naked girl helpless and dominated, she's also a slut; a slut shared by six men. I could never describe to you how turned on I was.

We did another series of similar poses with the guys holding me. This time, it was even more intimate and sensual—they held me tightly against them. I had one arm around their neck, the other around their waist. Their arms were wrapped around my back as they held me against their clothed bodies, one hand right above my ass and the other on my upper back. Matt told them to open their hands wide and to truly hold my back—their fingers were pushing into my bare flesh because of how tightly they held it. Our faces were pressed against one another and we were in profile before the camera, looking into the lens like lovers caught in a passionate embrace and looking at the camera as if it was an intruder—it reminded me of the Twilight New Moon poster, but in this version, Bella is completely naked while vampire boy wears a suit. What I'm basically trying to say is that our version was better.

I was not only totally protected by the men holding me aggressively, I was also owned by them, taken and conquered by them. My entire naked body was theirs and they held it with absolute authority and dominance. Our faces were so close that I could feel their breaths on my face. Their hard cocks were completely pressed against my groin, and often, the zipper would rub against my pussy and send unimaginable arousal through my body. When I was doing that pose with Pete, Matt told us not to move while he was adjusting his camera, but I couldn't help but slightly move my hips and rub my cunt against his clothed erection. He felt me subtly gyrating against his hard-on and looked at me with surprise. I answered with a flirtatious look and a biting of my lower lip as I kept rubbing my groin on his clothed cock. He seemed to like it, and so did I.

"You know..." I whispered. "You can bring your hand lower."

"You don't mind?"

"Go for it."

So Pete lowered his hand, and it caressed the upper curve of my ass as it went down and settled on my right buttock. His hand was now on my ass, and it felt so good. The ass is a much more private part of the body. By allowing the boys to touch my ass, I had given them even more authority over my naked body. When Matt finished adjusting his camera, he noticed the much more intimate pose — Pete's hand on my ass — and smiled.

"Hold it tighter," he said. Pete did exactly that, but Matt gestured for him to continue. "Tighter, squeeze it tighter."

Pete squeezed my ass so tight that the pain made me rise on the tip of my toes. The pain grew, continually turning into arousal, and it made me press myself even tighter against Pete's body and rub my pussy against his hard-on even more.

"Am I hurting you?" Pete asked, concerned.

"Yes you are," I answered with an aroused sigh. "Keep squeezing." Matt took a few photos, but before he could call for another pose, I turned to Pete. "Mind if... you give me a kiss? I think it would look good in a pic."

Pete smiled. "Sure."

His was a gentle, romantic kiss, but with the next one and the five other ones, the kisses quickly turned into making-out. I let the boys passionately taste my lips as they held me tightly, rubbing my back and my ass with their hands, holding my waist and caressing my neck and shoulders. The kisses were loud and passionate, and they even started kissing me on the neck. Matt kept taking pictures—we were giving him the most incredible images ever. I loved how much they were squeezing my ass, they kept groping it and fondling it while kissing me on the lips and all over the neck. By that point, I was totally aroused, and that meant one thing.

All logic had left my body. Now I was just raw carnal instinct. "Touch me," I begged, whispering not only to the model making out with me, but also to the others. "Touch me, touch me everywhere." I extended my hands towards them, and they quickly accepted my offer. All six men converged on me and I closed my eyes as the chaos of six pairs of hands and six lips took over me. The six pairs of hands groped and fondled everywhere; they squeezed my ass and my breasts, they felt me up and kept coming back to my tits. It was the best feeling ever: to have six hands feeling up my tits and all the rest of my body. I felt their lips too, and they were kissing my neck, my mouth and my breasts—I couldn't count how many times each of them kissed my bare breasts. I had completely given them my bare body, and they were fondling and groping me as they pleased. All I had to do was close my eyes and sigh with ecstasy.

I kept blindly grasping at any tuxedos in front of me; whenever I found one, I would hold it, pull myself towards it and gyrate my groin against the erection; I was in a dance, a dance where I rotated my hips and body while six men felt me up and made out with me. My sighs were growing louder.

"Squeeze harder," I begged.

They did, and my ass and tits hurt. They saw how much I enjoyed the pain, and so they grabbed my hair and pulled it. Each of them kept pulling my hair so hard that it made me whimper every time. Other hands at the same time were slapping my ass and spanking it so hard that I jumped every time—and every time I jumped, they pulled me back down instantly by the hair. It was a complete, blind chaos of total domination, six clothed men groping me, fondling me, caressing me, spanking me, pulling my hair and making out with me all at the same time.

Enough time passed that we were all content moving to another... pose, if we could even call them that now. "Any ideas?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," I said.

My head was going in circles with arousal and I could feel how red my cheeks were. With that feeling governing me, I knelt on the ground, meek and ready to be controlled. The boys quickly took the initiative—they took turns holding me by the hair and pulling it while I knelt. They looked like proud owners presenting their prized bitch, and instead of a leash, they held my hair. They stood around and above me, clothed and dominant, and I knelt, naked and obedient.

"You're so hot, Chloe," Matt said.

"Thank you..." I whispered, unable to stop my eyes from closing because of how much arousal I was feeling. I was absolutely in paradise. I opened my eyes and noticed their groins around my face and the raging hard-ons forming bulges beneath their pants. "It would be cool, if..." I looked over at Matt and gestured towards the erections. He liked the idea and turned to the models to ask for their opinion. They liked it even more.

They made a circle around me. One by one, I opened their zippers and fumbled through the hole until I grasped each dick and pulled it out. Now there were six hard cocks standing at attention out of the men's pants. Matt knelt with the camera in hand and gave us directions. One by one, the boys stood in front of me. We started with Pete. He slid his cock into my mouth and Matt told me to stay still so the image wouldn't be blurry. So I didn't suck, I just knelt, immobile, with a cock filling my mouth. I looked up at Pete and sent him love with my eyes. I was feeling totally dominated and that's all that mattered; I didn't care one bit that I was now hosting a stranger's cock in my slut's mouth. Matt was adjusting his camera settings, and it did take some time—too much, in fact. So much that I needed to take a breath, but as soon as I moved my head to remove the cock from my mouth, Matt desperately told not to move at the last moment, and asked Pete to hold me in place.

The latter grabbed my hair and kept me on his cock. I gagged and moaned, trying instinctively to move my head so I could breathe, but his strong grip kept me in my place. Matt took his precious time taking the photos, and I was gagging and suffocating with my eyes watering. Thankfully, Matt was done and Pete released his grip. I gasped for air and coughed as if I had just been choked.

"You fucking asshole," I chuckled, looking up at Pete.

"You know you liked it." I giggled and nodded, giving his cock one wet suck as if to confirm. "So what do you say when you liked it?"

"Thank you."

"Good girl."

I turned to the other boys. "More..." They were quick to give me what I wanted. One by one, they put their cocks in my mouth and did the same thing, holding my hair and choking me until my eyes were crying.

After we were done with this "pose," Matt said "How about we finish with some candid shots? You suck them off at your leisure and I'll take pics; no need to worry about me. You just do your thing."

I nodded with a desperate look on my face, and thankfully, the boys were up for it too. Chris made me rise and pulled me by the hair to the living room. He threw me on my knees and joined the others in relaxing and watching TV. They didn't even interact with me anymore—they watched TV and I crawled over to each of them to suck, suck, suck and suck. I sucked in groups of two, kneeling in front of them and taking their dicks in my mouth while they chatted and watched TV. Don't ask me why I was suddenly so compelled to suck their cocks—I was the only girl, naked, in a group of clothed boys. It was just the natural conclusion of things that I should suck their cocks; it was my way of taking my submission to its absolute degree. It felt self explanatory to me.

Matt kept taking pics of me, and it motivated me to suck as well as I could. I wanted to do it perfectly. I didn't suck only out of meek submissiveness, I sucked with the passion and motivation of someone dedicated to their craft, and at that moment, my craft, my entire being and soul was about being the most perfect submissive who ever existed. I saw Matt approach to take closer pictures, and in one of them, he placed his hand on my head, which turned me on even more. Everywhere I looked, I was dominated.

Eventually, they unloaded themselves into my mouth and I swallowed all six shots. By the time I was done, it was pretty late already. The models said their goodbyes and told me it was a pleasure to have met me—of course it was. Soon, I was alone with Matt in the apartment again. The arousal was a total high, and I excused myself and used Matt's bathroom to take a shower.

I both masturbated and showered in there. I thought of everything that had just happened and imagined the boys still fondling and kissing me. My arousal grew and grew, but my fear did too—I was afraid that as soon as the climax would hit, the high would give way to a realization of shame. Would I regret what I had done? What if being horny had clouded my judgement like alcohol would, and I would regret everything once sobriety returned?

The orgasm came, and as it washed away the sexual energy from me like the water washed away my sweat, it gave way to... joy. I was so relieved. Not shame, not regret. Joy. I had lived one of my biggest fantasies, and I didn't regret it one bit. Sure, it was strange to realise how slutty I truly was. The sluttiest thing I had ever done before was kiss two guys during the same drunken party, back when I was in high school. This was something else completely.

I had stripped naked before a friend and strangers, made out with those strangers, offered my body to their touch and to their constant gaze, and ended the evening by blowing them. And all I felt was pride. Pride from knowing that I hadn't left inhibitions born from a judgemental society hold me back. I had lived a fantasy and I had no reason to feel bad for it.