The Collector

Life can be complicated for a nude model

This is my entry into the 2020 National Nude Day Contest. Please be kind with your stars.

**

Judy had a coveted internship at the Mandrakian Galley, just west of 10th Avenue in New York. She was learning on the job, and so far she was doing well, but she was not prepared for The Collector. The veterans in the gallery scene knew him well.

"How was your first week with us?" Sarah Mandrakian asked Judy around 4pm on Sunday. The weekend had been especially busy, probably due to the solo show of a hot new artist.

"It went fine, thank you, although there was this one guy..." Judy replied.

"Yes? Pray tell?" Sarah encouraged.

"He asked me about any new paintings we had of nudes," Judy answered. "I guess perverts come in all types, right?"

Sarah was kind. After all, Judy was young, and new to the game. "Oh, Judy honey, he's not a pervert, he's just a collector."

"But he wasn't that interested in the quality of the paintings, or even who the artist was!" Judy replied, thinking people who collect, collect paintings of a given artist, or even a given period, or a given school, such as cubism, or impressionists. She expressed this.

"Yes, all that's true. However, The Collector, as he's known in the gallery district, collects paintings of nudes. And not just nudes. He collects paintings of nudes when the artist uses one particular nude in his paintings," Sarah explained. "He seems to have an obsession for one particular model."

Judy looked stunned.

"Did you ever collect stamps, for example?" Sarah asked.

"No, but my brother did."

"How did he go about it?"

"What do you mean?" Judy asked.

"Well, did he collect US stamps, or stamps from around the world, or stamps from a small collection of countries?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know," Judy confessed.

"Well, there are lots of stamps, and more made every year, of course. There are too many in the world for anyone to collect all of them. People specialize. Some people focus on one country, some people focus only on airmail stamps, others collect only stamps with steamships pictured, or railroad trains, or flags, and the like. There's even stamps with overprints on them. The British, for example, would take a British stamp and overprint it in black ink to sell in a given colony, back when they had lots of colonies. I could go on, and on, and on," Sarah said.

"No need; I get it now," Judy said. "Still, I think it's strange only to want paintings made from one particular model."

"I agree. There're few people stranger than collectors. The man we call The Collector is certainly strange, but he's harmless, and when he finds what he wants, we make a quick sale. Win-win," Judy said.

"What's the name of the model he collects?" Judy asked.

"None of us knows. It lends an air of mystery about the whole affair! We do know, however, the artists who like to use her as their model. James York, for example, uses her all the time."

"James York? Why, he's a great artist!" Judy exclaimed.

"Yes. Yes, he is. We make a nice commission when we sell one of his paintings. If it's a nude of Model X, as we call her, then it's an easy sale to The Collector. His other paintings are harder to move, because they're really quite pricey," Sarah remarked.

**

Melissa had become the go-to model for James York, especially when he wanted to paint a nude. This had served Melissa well, as other artists, lesser known but equally talented, clamored for her to model for them, as well. If she agreed, and the painting was of her nude, then the artist could use the painting to get a foot in the door at the exclusive Mondrakian Gallery, sending their career skyrocketing. Consequently, Melissa could charge a pretty penny for her modeling gigs.

Whenever she sat for a painting it was a long commitment, and York was especially slow, it seemed to her. He had helped to promote her as a model, however, and he paid better than anyone else. He was a bit eccentric, but what else was new? We're talking artists. They're supposed to be eccentric.

It's hard to pose naked for long periods of time. Melissa always had to be naked, even if York was working on her feet, details of her hands, or of course her hair and her face. Other artists were more flexible, and if an artist was working on her face, for example, she could at least wear panties, and sometimes even a bra and panties. But not James York. Oh no, for him, she was always naked.

Melissa didn't care that much. She had grown up with three brothers, and a father of course, and being the only girl (her mother had died in childbirth with the birth of her youngest brother), she was often the object of their attention, especially when she wore a bikini to sunbathe in the back yard, or when she took a shower.

She always locked the door to the bathroom when she showered, but her brothers were boys, and they were curious about girls, and she loved them all, so when they routinely unlocked the bathroom door (they had figured out a way to do that) and spied on her in the shower, she pretended not to notice.

Melissa realized she was not shy, and even that she enjoyed the surreptitious looks she'd get from her brothers at her breasts, and occasionally at her entire nude body. Her brothers grew out of it once they became sexually active with their own girlfriends, and Melissa had continued on to college. She posed nude for art classes at college, from time to time, and eventually made a name for herself as a model. Once James York discovered her, she had it made.

Now he was asking her for too much. She finally said no to him. She agreed his new project was spectacular, and would be ground breaking, shaking up the art world, but she couldn't do it. He'd have to find a replacement. York asked her to help him to find a replacement, and she said she'd ask around.

Melissa called her old art professors from when she was in college, and they recommended a recent graduate who was recklessly ambitious, as she was trying to break into the field, and was currently working as an unpaid intern in an art gallery, just west of 10th Avenue. It was the Mandrakian Gallery.

What luck! Melissa knew the gallery well. It had an exclusivity contract with James York himself. She gave Sarah Mandrakian a call, explaining who she was. She and Sarah hit it off instantly. Sarah was glad to help, and Melissa soon had a lunch date with a somewhat bewildered young lovely named Judy Jones. They met at an upscale, yet casual, eatery not too far from the gallery.

They made small talk, Judy constantly bewildered about why a star model like Melissa Johansen wanted to meet her for lunch. She knew, however, not to push things, and she just let the conversation flow. Eventually Melissa would get to the point, or so she hoped. It came over coffee.

"I've done a little research on you," Melissa said.

"You have?" a suddenly very nervous Judy replied. She immediately thought of those horrific pictures of her Mike Scelerat had posted on an Internet porn site, that she had been unable to have removed. She blushed.

"Of course, I have. Your former professors Dr. Alderschmidt and Dr. Hungerford gave you rave recommendations for your modeling ability. Apparently, you take direction well, and are also fearless. Those are excellent qualities," Melissa said.

I should, I'm such a fucking submissive, Judy thought, still nervous about the pictures and especially the video of her being a bad girl, which was up on the Internet. "Thank you, Melissa. That was right nice of them," she said.

"Well, I'll get to the point of this lunch, and why I wanted to meet with you," Melissa said.

I was hoping you would! Judy thought, silently. She waited for Melissa to continue.

Melissa took a slow sip of her coffee, exacerbating the tension. Judy was dying, nervously sitting across from her.

"As you may know, I'm Mr. York's go-to model, especially when he paints nudes. His new project, however, is just not for me. It's the first time I've refused him," Melissa said. Judy's eyes got wide. "As a favor to James, I agreed to recruit a new model to take my place. I've already interviewed three possibilities, but there are problems in each case. May I be blunt?"

"Yes, please, of course," Judy said.

"This particular gig with James will involve more than nudity. He envisions a trilogy of three paintings, and with a progression that I felt was outside of my bailiwick. You, however, are young and ambitious. Plus, Mr. Hungerford assured me you are a submissive, from a sexual standpoint," Melissa said, studying the reaction to her words in Judy's expressions.

"Excuse me? Mr. Hungerford claims to know that I'm a sexual submissive, and he told you that? " Judy replied.

"Is it not true? I assume he had a basis for such a description. You did sleep with him, didn't you? And you did whatever he asked, including," and Melissa paused, searching for the right words, "Some unusual things?"

Judy shrunk in her chair. "Uh, yes, all that's true, I guess. You might as well know, since anyway you already seem to. Sexually speaking, I tend to do whatever a man wants. I'm just surprised, and frankly, rather dismayed, that Mr. Hungerford told you that!"

"I can understand that; I would be, too, in your place. The point is, however, someone like you is exactly what James York is looking for, assuming you are also a good model. From what Dr. Alderschmidt told me, modelling is your primary talent, and you are exceptional."

"Thank you. That was nice of Dr. Alderschmidt," Judy, said, fighting back tears from her embarrassment.

"She was just being honest. Mr. Hungerford confirmed your talent. Confirmation is important," Melissa said, and she fell silent.

Judy tried to outwait her during the long silence, but lost. "I'd be very interested in modeling for an artist like James York. It's fascinating to meet you in person, Melissa; I've seen you on canvas so many times."

Melissa smiled happily. She could never seem to collect enough compliments, and she relished each and every one. "Don't agree too fast, my dear," Melissa cautioned. "Let me tell you some of the things Mr. York will expect you to do, as his model for his new trilogy. I'll tell you what's probably involved, as I understand it, and then let's see if you're still interested, okay? The other three models turned him down when they learned the details of what he is expecting from his nude model. So too did I. Nevertheless, I think you may be the savior for his project."

The two women talked in low voices for the next two hours. Melissa ordered cognacs for them, and seeing the surprise in Judy's face, evolving into shock, she ordered a second round of cognacs and chocolates, and then a third round.

"Think about it overnight, Judy. If I may ask, do you currently have a boyfriend?" Melissa asked.

"No," Judy replied. "I broke up with Gary three months ago. Some men have trouble having a girlfriend who models nude. It's ridiculous." Judy had trouble hiding the touch of bitterness that crept into her voice.

"Tell me about it! The stories I could tell you, oh my goodness," Melissa replied. Then she added, "Since the break-up, have you been dating?"

"Yes. Being a nude model seems to attract men. They come out of the woodwork, but once we uh, become, uh, intimate, we usually call it quits. Maybe they just want the experience of doing it with a nude model? For some reason, most of them want to fuck outdoors. I've found a good place in one of the parks on the island," Judy said, giggling nervously in her embarrassment to be discussing such activities. "To be honest, I haven't really liked any of the men that much," Judy added.

"And yet you slept with them? And outdoors, too?" Melissa followed up.

"Yeah. Remember, as you said, I'm a bit on the submissive end of the spectrum." Judy bridled at Melissa's implicit moral judgment. She knew people just like her. They would condemn her as a slut. "Grow up, Melissa. It's 2020. The Puritan influence on our society is on the wane. Big time," Judy replied, not even trying to hide her annoyance. She said this even though Judy was 23, and Melissa was 34. "This line of questioning is inappropriate," Judy finally said, ending their conversation.

What Judy would never admit, even to herself, was that having sex outdoors, where there was always the chance of being discovered and watched, was the greatest turn-on she had ever experienced. She didn't just submissively agree to sex in the great outdoors; she would manipulate the men into pressuring her to do it, and then she would 'reluctantly' agree; she would 'submit.'

That night Judy called Dr. Alderschmidt to ask her for advice. They had a long talk (two hours) on the telephone. She also spoke with her boss at the gallery, Sara Mondrakian. She called her old boyfriend Gary to get the male perspective from someone who knew her inside and out. She giggled again at the thought of just how much Gary knew her insides, as well as her outsides.

Finally, she broached the subject with her mother. She would never discuss such things with her father! She strongly suspected her disgusting father routinely jerked himself off to pictures of her in the nude paintings. So too did her brother (she once had even caught him at it!). Speaking to her Mom about it was one of the scariest things she had ever done, especially given what Melissa had told her. Her Mom took it well, though, and gave her some truly wise advice. She began to realize that Dr. Alderschimdt was vicariously ambitious for her, while Sara just wanted her to help the gallery make some money, Gary just wanted to imagine her nude and compromised, and it was only her mother who really cared about her in all the right ways.

"I'm in. I'll do it, assuming I pass Mr. York's audition," Judy told Melissa, when the latter called her in the morrow. Melissa was thrilled, and told her she would never regret it. Judy, though, was not so sure!

**

Judy passed the audition with Mr. York easily. He went through the motions, already convinced that if Melissa had said Judy was perfect for what he wanted, then she was. Papers were signed, and Mr. York surprised Judy when he said, "There's the dressing room. Why don't you change and we'll get started?"

"You mean, now? Today?" Judy said, she was taken aback, thinking this was an interview and she'd hear back in a week or so.

Judy didn't ask what he wanted her to wear. She just stripped, and put on the modesty robe hanging in the changing room. The 'robe' was like a beach coverup, and partially transparent. Any modesty it provided was symbolic, at best. She emerged, and York didn't even look at her. He told her to take an odalisque pose on the divan. She took the position of Ingres' Grande Odalisque, showing off her ass and back, with her head turned, and looking at the artist.

"Nice. Now let's see a full frontal, please. Legs closed for modesty. Good! Hold the pose, please."

Judy was lying on the divan, on her back, her head propped up with a pillow, her large breasts falling to the sides, and her nipples pointing straight up to the ceiling. York quickly sketched her in pencil. In only ten minutes he had a sketch of her body which was the best anyone had ever done! She was in the presence of real talent, and it got Judy truly excited.

**

As York continued to sketch Judy in pencil is various poses, Judy let her mind wander. Posing nude in front of a man always seemed sexual to her, and her thoughts naturally dwelled on some of her sexual history. Considering she was only 23, she had been an active girl. There were two men who stood out for her in her history. One of the two men was the one man she had ever really loved, and in fact still did love.

That man was Martin. They were both eight when they first met, and they became instant friends. Martin was unusual because he was smart, intellectual, and gregarious. He and Judy could converse nonstop for hours. All of her girlfriends had BFFs with whom they could talk ad infinitum , but for Judy, she had her Martin.

When the whole boy-girl thing emerged at around age 16 for Judy, and age 17 for Martin, Judy was able to discuss which boys she had crushes on with Martin, and he would give her advice. Martin never reciprocated, and Judy was always in the dark about his sex life, or even if he had one. Everything changed, though, when Martin was applying for college admission. You see, Martin considered himself to be an artist. He had never, however, let Judy see one of his paintings.

"Judy, I need your help," Martin said. It was the first time he had ever asked Judy for help. She, on the other hand, had often asked Martin for help with her math and physics homework assignments.

"Sure, Martin. You know I'll do anything for you. What do you need?"

"I need a girl to model nude, completely nude, for a painting. I want to include a nude in my college application," he said.

"Can't you just copy a nude of a famous artist?" I asked.

"No, it doesn't work that way. It has to be mine, and completely original," he said.

"Why don't you ask your girlfriend?" I teased. I was sure Martin did not have one, and had never had one!

"I did. She refused, and we had a big fight about it. I don't understand, actually, because it's easy enough to get her naked, and we have sex all the time as if we were rabbits, but a painting of her gorgeous body? No way, no how," Martin said, clearly getting upset at putting this all in his mind again.

Judy was flabbergasted. Martin was having sex with a girl and he never told her? More to the point, nobody had ever told her? This was intolerable.

"Well, I don't see what the big deal is. Artists always paint nudes, and there's obviously always a model involved as well. It's a noble profession, being a model. A lot of the models of today often appear half naked in ladies' fashion magazines," Judy said, having just scored the French edition of Vogue and seen exactly that. The American version was sanitized from even partial nudity. Americans are such prudes, Judy thought.

"You said earlier you'd do anything I needed, Judy, right?" Martin asked.

"Me?!!? You want me to model nude for you?" Judy exclaimed. That would be so sexy, Judy thought. She had never been nude for a boy; the farthest they had got was to get her down to her panties (that was Eric) and he fingered her. She was still a virgin. Now to have someone paint her nude body? And not just someone, but Martin? And it was for a good cause, right? I mean, I would be helping him get into the college of his choice, wouldn't I, after all! Judy thought, silently.

"Well, yes. You'd be perfect, if you're willing. I warn you, though, that lots of people may eventually see the painting; at least I hope that's the case!" Martin said. He knew that Judy had exhibitionist tendencies, and just the idea of lots of people seeing a rendering of her nude body would probably turn her on.

Indeed, Judy was getting wet at the idea. She hoped Martin was as good an artist as he was supposed to be. She wished she could see some of his work; he was so damn secretive!

"Want to see some sketches I made of my girlfriend?" Martin offered, practically having read Judy's mind.

So, Martin was bopping Alexis? Judy never would have guessed. The drawings, pencil on paper, were stunningly good. "I thought Alexis refused to pose nude for you?"

"Oh, I drew these from memory, Judy. Alexis doesn't even know they exist, and she would kill me if she ever found out. I'd get home from a date, and then draw the delights I had experienced from my time with her," Martin replied.

"Uh, Martin...." Judy said.

"Yes?" Martin smiled. He knew what Judy was going to ask.