You Are What You Are Ch. 02byMeanDickGreen©
Bouncing up and down in her seat with the bumps in the road and her hair blowing fiercely in the wind, Molly was racing along in her brand new hot pink Jeep at the speed limit, but her mind was racing at the speed of light ... just as it had since the very first moment she had met Jason.
After returning home on Thursday she had reluctantly complied with his demand that she always be naked from the waist down. She had hated it and she had hated it even worse when, for the first time ever, she'd had to suck Frankie's dick and swallow his spunk, but she was grateful that at least it hadn't taken long and she was quickly able get back to her own thoughts.
"I'm going to make him pay ... big time," Molly swore to herself.
There was also something else that Molly realized was keeping her from doing anything rash ... Jason. She was scared to death of him, but at the same time, she was fascinated by him.
It was Jason, after all, who had given her the experience of a lifetime, he had given her an orgasm, bunches of them, more even than she could count, and she realized she really liked orgasms. She hated Jason, but she loved sex, more than she had ever thought possible.
She almost cringed every time she thought about how enthusiastic she had become that second day, eagerly lifting her legs and guiding his dick into her pussy and then howling her head off as he fucked hell out of her. She also hated the fact that she couldn't keep from grunting and groaning and urging him on, but that's the way it was.
Even when he would purposely back off and fuck her ever so slowly, she couldn't help but continue moaning and groaning and grunting and crying out and kicking her legs about with every stroke or push or grind.
She couldn't get enough and Jason had made her dance on the end of his dick like a shameless slut. Over and over he had made her howl ... time after time and hour after hour until she could barely move.
So there it was. She hated Jason, she hated sucking his dick and she was deathly afraid of him, but there was also something else about him, even apart from the sex ... she also liked him.
He was fun to be with and worst of all, she couldn't shake the fact that, more than anyone she had ever met ... he made her feel good about herself. He listened to her. He was interested in her and she found it intoxicating.
"Oh! Honey! You've never been naked in front of people have you!" the cheerful and flamboyantly gay Jean Paul exclaimed after he had escorted Molly to a dressing room and casually shown her where to put her clothes, only to be confronted by her sudden tears.
"No," whimpered Molly, as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with one hand.
"Well, I can tell you're a fine lady," he kindly assured her, "You'll do fine."
"Ladies don't go naked in public," countered Molly, despairing almost to panic.
"Oh, my, Honey! Who told you that! Of course they do!" laughed Jean Paul, giving her a little reassuring hug, "Come on now, let's have a look at you."
Reluctantly complying with his wishes, Molly finally stood in front of him, carefully covering herself with her hands for a long moment until Jean Paul's warm and assuring smile prompted her to drop her arms to her sides and reveal herself for his appraisal.
"Oh! Molly! My word, girl!" declared Jean Paul, using her name for the first time, "Aren't you just the cutest thing! I swear!"
"I don't have any hair," Molly softly cringed, "and my pussy is too big."
"Oh! Honey!" With a big laugh," What you have deserves to be seen! Trust me, Molly! You are lovely, perfectly lovely! And that pussy of yours is just about the most beautiful pussy I've ever seen! Trust me, if I had a pussy, and I certainly wish I did, I would want it to be just like yours."
Not saying anything or knowing what to do, but somehow comforted by Jean Paul's assurances and the humor inherent in his attitude, Molly didn't have any more time to think about it before Jean Paul sprang into action.
"Come on now, come with me," he instructed, placing his hands on Molly's shoulders and urging her toward the door, "There's something I want to show you."
"Are there people out there?" asked Molly, fearfully.
"Yes, of course, but they're all busy and they've seen it all before," declared Jean Paul, "No one is going to pay any attention."
Allowing herself to be ushered into the main studio, Molly quickly looked around to see it was just as Jean Paul had said it would be with the dozen or so artists busily preparing their materials and supplies and not paying her any attention other than two or three who glanced up at her only momentarily before assuming their preparations.
"Perhaps you know who she is?" asked Jean Paul, as he began walking her along the walls of the studio, which was covered with past works and pointing to one in particular which Molly recognized as a famous actress.
"Yes," confirmed Molly, surprised.
"And who said a fine lady never goes naked," teased Jean Paul, "There never was a finer lady than her. I can tell you that for sure. She was also one of my finest models."
Walking Molly around the perimeter of the studio, Jean Paul continued his tour, showing her drawing after drawing, many of them famous women who had worked and posed for him through the years and each one naked as the day she was born.
Glancing quickly back and forth from the portraits to the artists every time she got a chance, Molly slowly began to get at least a little more comfortable as she could tell the artists weren't gawking at her as she had imagined would happen. They had all looked at her she was sure, but only in the same way that everyone see's everything around them.
At one point she even caught the eyes of one of the artists as he glanced up to look at her, but he simply smiled casually and went back to what he was doing. She had forced herself to give her own matching return smile, although it was one of her best acting jobs ever.
Molly began to realize Jean Paul's studio was very much indeed a high class endeavor and part of a very exclusive world ... a world Molly had never even really thought about. Certainly a world she had never thought she would ever touch in any way.
"All these drawings, Molly, what do you notice about them?" asked Jean Paul, bringing her out of her momentary personal thoughts and back into the present, "Think carefully, what is it about them all? What do they all have in common? What is the theme?"
Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to concentrate, Molly formed the only conclusion she could think of and hoped for the best, "They all tell a story."
"Ohhh! Molly! Honey!" enthused Jean Paul, "Jason said you were very smart! He wasn't kidding! Well! done!"
"You know Jason well, then?" inquired Molly, as casually as she could.
"Oh Honey," declared Jean Paul, "Jason owns this place. If it wasn't for him I would have gone broke a long time ago. I'm really good at art, but business ... not so much."
"So if it wasn't for Jason, you would never have hired me," declared Molly, realizing she already liked Jean Paul, perhaps because she felt he too was also at Jason's mercy, "Sorry."
"You listen to me carefully now, Molly," replied Jean Paul, suddenly shifting his tone as he took both of Molly's hands in his and spoke more softly, "The truth is I would hire an ugly bulldog and swear it was a butterfly if Jason told me to, but then, you're hardly an ugly bulldog now are you."
"I guess not," offered Molly, smiling weakly.
"Really, Molly, I mean it," continued Jean Paul, "You're perfectly fine and I think you'll make a great model, but in all candor, I really would appreciate it if you would do your best."
"You have my word," replied Molly, "but you have to do something for me ... just between you and me."
"And what would that be?" asked Jean Paul, now clearly ready for some awful caveat.
"You have to teach me how to be a lady," replied Molly, "How to be more sophisticated."
"Oh, Molly," replied Jean Paul, more sincerely than ever as he gave her a hug and then looked straight into her eyes, "it would be my pleasure."
"Thanks," replied Molly, "I'll do my best, I promise."
"Now look over there in that corner," instructed Jean Paul, getting back to business and pointing to a big cabinet with a small refrigerator next to it and a small stool, "That's the model's station. You can bring your own drinks and snacks and whatever and leave them here. Just put them in a container and put your name on it. I've already put a fresh sanitary cover on the stool for you.
Each pose is for twenty minutes, then you get a ten minute break. You can take it there or you can walk around and look at the artist's work and chat with them. They like that and that's what the girls do most of the time. We're all pretty much one big happy family around here, but that's all completely up to you."
"And that's where I pose," asked Molly, "up on that platform? How do I know what to do?"
"Yes, that's where you pose," confirmed Jean Paul, "That little music stand will have some line drawings of the poses and if there are any props, they will be there as well. It will be your responsibility to keep track and know when to begin and end your pose. Six poses is a days work and there's always overtime if you want it."
"When do I start?" asked Molly.
"On the hour," answered Jean Paul, pointing to a big clock on the wall across from the platform, "Ten minutes from now."
"Okay," replied Molly, her apprehension obvious.
"Listen to me, Molly," Jean Paul once again spoke softly, as he stepped behind, wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear, "The secret to going naked is to do it for the right reason and with the right attitude. When a fine lady goes naked, she does so in order to celebrate the beauty of creation, and for that, her best asset isn't her body, it's her confidence. The secret of posing is simply to make the pose look real and TELL THE STORY."
"Okay," replied Molly, meekly, before leaving the comforting presence of Jean Paul for the first time, proceeding directly to the bathroom ... and promptly throwing up.
With nothing to use but her hand, Molly lapped up enough water to wash the foul taste out of her mouth, then patted her face with some more water to refresh herself before finally stepping out into the studio once more to face her moment of truth.
Glancing at the clock to see she had only three minutes, she took a deep breath and proceeded directly to the platform. Being careful not to make eye contact with anyone, she was more than grateful that still no one was paying any particular attention as the artists casually chatted among themselves.
Seeing that the first line drawing was of a woman reclining on one elbow reading a book, she lay down on her right side with both the drawing and the book and began to assume the pose, and it was then that her heart sank and she once again felt like she was going to throw up.
With no other choice but to finish the pose, she slowly tucked her left foot under her right knee, requiring her at the same time to raise her left leg and thus fully expose her pussy for everyone to see.
Now more than ever taking care not to make eye contact with anyone, there was a long moment in which Molly thought she might pass out, but with great effort she managed to refocus her thoughts and do as Jean Paul had coached her.
Taking one more look at the drawing, she satisfied herself that she had it right and did the only thing she could think of to save herself ... she began reading the book.
Simultaneously with her final action, a small chime sounded signaling the start of the session and the room fell totally silent as the artists went to work.
For the first few minutes Molly found the situation to be almost surreal, so far removed was she from everything she had ever known or even imagined she might do, it was almost beyond her comprehension, beyond her ability to process it.
Finding herself frozen in place, she quickly sought refuge in the only two familiar things available to her, her breathing and the book. Desperately concentrating on both as hard as she could, she spend the next ten minutes lost in time and space and total thoughtlessness until a wonderful calm began to settle upon her.
"Well now," she thought to herself, "isn't this something. If the ladies at church could only see me now."
It was only then that her thoughts were brought back to the immediate moment in the form of another surprise which only a few moments before would have meant her total mental breakdown.
"Miss," Molly heard one of the artists say, leaving no doubt she was being addressed directly, which thrust a new dagger of fear into her as she could only surmise that she was doing something wrong.
Now back in control of herself, although just barely, Molly managed to look up at the artist and fake her most casual attitude only to see the woman direct her eyes to the far corner of the platform.
Without breaking her pose, but more as a refuge than any superb form of professionalism, Molly moved only her eyes to the corner of the platform that was being pointed out to her and beheld the most absurd and last thing on earth she had ever expected to see.
Hopping casually along the edge of the platform and totally oblivious to all concerns but its own, was a little grey mouse. Stopping every three or four hops to smell the air and then move on, it continued along the edge as Molly continued to follow it with her eyes.
Making its way along past Molly's toes and then her body, it finally hopped over onto the book and made its longest stop, raising up on its hind legs and looking directly into her eyes for a very long lingering moment before once again proceeding along its merry way to the end of the platform and then scampering across the floor to disappear into the darkness.
"His name is Oscar," one of the artists volunteered, after the mouse had gone... "Oscar the bold."
"My name is Molly," responded Molly, looking up at them all momentarily before reverting her eyes back to her book, having never broken her pose.
"Hi Molly ... Hey Molly... " responded the artists as a group, giving Molly a comforting feeling, especially after one of the men added his own touch, giving everyone a little laugh and eliciting a smile even from Molly... "Molly the Fearless."
For the next ten minutes Molly began to discover that holding a pose certainly wasn't as easy as it looked and by the time the little chime rang signaling the end of the session she was grateful for the opportunity to move about once more.
Retreating to the station, she took a seat on the stool until one of the female artists came over to greet her.
"Hi, I'm Divia," she offered, reaching for Molly's hand, "would you like to come meet everyone?" she asked.
Inwardly horrified at the prospect, but putting on her bravest front, Molly allowed the girl to lead her over to the group where she was introduced to each of the artists in turn as they each finished up their drawing and prepared for the next one, but as the minutes went by she slowly began to feel more and more at ease, but it still wasn't like she would be running around in her birthday suit if she didn't have to.
Having nothing else to do, for the rest of the day Molly spent most of each break circulating among the artists after each pose and she slowly began to realize that they were all very very good at what they did and she found herself actually wanting to be good at what she did as well for their sake.
Finally finishing up and fully dressed to go home, Molly prepared to leave her dressing room when she heard a soft knock on the door and upon opening it Jean Paul entered beaming from ear to ear.
"Oh! Molly! Honey! You were wonderful!" gushed Jean Paul, "Just wonderful!"
"Really?" asked Molly.
"The all voted, and this one was the best," continued Jean Paul, handing Molly one of the drawings from her first pose in which the artist had added the mouse looking up into Molly's eyes, "They wanted you to have it. It's JoJo's, he's going to be famous one day. You should keep it. It'll be worth a lot of money."
"Thank you," replied Molly, "I don't know what to say."
"They don't do that for every girl on her first time," added Jean Paul, "Hardly ever in fact."
"They knew it was my first time?" asked Molly.
"Oh Honey!" laughed Jean Paul, "They're artists, of course they knew."
"Well, Jean Paul," declared Molly, as she reached for her purse and prepared to leave, "Next time I'm bringing a robe to wear during my breaks."
"Of course you will," laughed Jean Paul, "You're a lady."
"Jean Paul, all the girls wear robes on their breaks don't they?" having caught the touch of mischief in Jean Paul's laughter, "The cabinet is full of them isn't it?"
"Do they?" laughed Jean Paul, "Is it? I never noticed."
"You could have told me," declared Molly, "You all could have told me."
"And what would have been the fun in that!" laughed Jean Paul.
"I'll get you back, Jean Paul," swore Molly, with a big smile on her face as she turned back just before heading out the door, "All of you!"