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The Artist's Model (BG and Cowboy)

BabyGirl

Super-Earth
Joined
May 12, 2010
An Artist is in the need for a model to draw and to paint. She decides to put out an advertisement. Asking for a female or male. She explains that she needs one that is willing to be painted nude or in questionable clothing. Her name was Amii, 21 years old, still a virgin, and extremely shy. She grew up alone, but she didn't mind it at all. Most people left her alone, but she had become a struggling artist. She had made about 25 copies to put around town. She had put up one and saw someone reading it and start to laugh. She could feel her face blush. She wanted to cry. How could she be so stupid? Amii looked at her ads and then threw them in the trash. There was one left in her bag that she crumpled and threw over her shoulder.

SHe sighed and started to head home. She hated her home. it was a rundown apartment that was in the poorest part of town. She wanted something to eat though, so she had to go home to cook her ramen. Something she'd been eating consistently for the past three months. When it was done she put it on the table, sighed and started to eat. She was half way done when the door bell rang. Slowly she got up to answer it.

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The young man who stood at the door was tall, broad shouldered, his head topped by thick golden blond hair. Clean shaven, he wore black boots, tight blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather biker jacket complete with decorative chains attached to the sleeves and hem. He didn't look particularly threatening, however, and his smile was good-natured and slightly playful.

"So," he said with a sly grin, "are you any good?" He then held up one of her ads, the crumpled paper having been smoothed back out so it could be read. "I mean, I wouldn't want either of us to waste any time. But if you know what you're doing, than I'd like to be considered." He looked her over, seeing a slight body but hinting at curves under her somewhat baggy clothes, then peeked past her at her rather threadbare apartment, seeing the bowl of half-eaten noodles on a folding table. But there did seem to be a large area cleared out where he could see an easel and art supplies.

"I've done some posing, for... interested friends. None of them were very good, really. I was hoping you'd be more talented. If your work is impressive, I might even commission something from you. But, that's for later consideration. Right now I just want to know if you're intending to follow through on this or not. Oh, by the way, my name is Lassiter. I have a first name, but I don't like it much, so most people call me Lassiter. May I come in?"
 
Opening the door Amii stares into a god's eyes. She listens to his words, frozen, blushing as he looks her up and down. She took a second to pull herself together. "Amii..." She said as she opened the door more and took a step back for him to walk in. Suddenly, she was aware of her poor state. She took a gulp and spoke, with a shy stutter. "I-I-I have s-s-some work i-i-i-i-if you c-c-care to see it....." She blushed as she walked towards her art things. SHe pulled out a few books that she drew in, as well as brought out a few paintings. She looked around for a second. "C-c-c-an I get y-yo-you anything?"
 
He took the offered books and shook his head. He glanced toward her table. "No, thanks, I'm fine. Why don't you finish your meal while I have a quick look." He even held out her chair for her to sit again, and leaned against a stool in the studio corner and started to leaf through the notebooks.

"Pretty good," he commented after a few silent minutes. "You've had some anatomy. Not just light and shadow on these figures, but you can see defined musculature under the skin. Very impressive. Lifelike, and sometimes a little exaggerated to enhance the masculinity or femininity of your subjects. But in a flattering light."

As she finished up her noodles, he set down her books. "I think you'll do even better with live models." He pulled out a wallet from his jacket pocket and fished out a card. "Here's my cell phone number and email. I'd be happy to pose for you. My schedule is pretty flexible right now, so when you decide you're ready to do some work, just let me know, and we'll set something up." He nodded toward her easel in the corner. "We can work here, or in some other setting if that's what you want to do. Just let me know. I am curious about what direction you want to go: fantasy, fetish, anything in particular?"
 
She was glad that he offered to let her finish eating because that meant she wouldn't have to talk for a little. Amii listened to his words, praising her work, which only made her blush and try to swallow without choking on the noodles.

When he asked what her style would be for the picture, she took his card and finished her last bite. "Well, I was thinking more of the fetish side, male dominance not being a bad thing for the world." She started. Her stutter was gone talking about her art. "The only problem is, I really don't know anything about it... or sex in general." She blushed. "So i am having a hard time figuring out how I am going to set the scene."
 
He took the only other seat at the table, turning the chair around so he cradled his arms on the chair back ahead of him. He cocked an eyebrow at her choice of subject and her confession about her inexperience. He smiled with just a touch of sheepish self-mockery.

"Well, you're the artist, and I'll take the pose any way you decide. I, as it happens, do have ... some ... exposure to that kind of imagery... and lifestyle. I've seen a lot of images, since visual stimulation is supposed to be more appealing to men than women, so they say. Most of what I've seen not only shows the dominant male, but often paired with a partner, in some pose of submissiveness or being controlled. I can let you experiment with my body, if you will, pose me any way you like until you get one that you want to paint."

He glanced behind him to the corner with her art setup. "If you want, we can begin when you wish."
 
Amii thought about this for a few minutes. "Maybe this is a stupid idea after all." she said, not looking up. It was clear that she was blushing again. "I think maybe I am trying too hard to understand something that I can't." She added. Finally looking up at him she said "i don't know enough of that... stuff... to paint it. I've wasted your time."
 
Lassiter met her look for a long pause. He seemed to be measuring her, but making a quick decision. "I make up my own mind as to whether my time has been wasted," he finally said, his voice firm and not brooking any argument. "You've obviously given this some thought, or you wouldn't have even raised the subject. Anything you don't understand means it is just something you need to learn. Once you've had some education in male dominance, then you'll be able to put it into your art. If you agree to it, I can be your instructor. I can let you know how it feels to be with a dominant male. I can show you the lifestyle." His eyes narrowed. "You can accept my offer or not. But once accepted, you will be placing yourself in my hands. And I think that's what you really want, whether you can admit it to yourself or not."
 
Amii looked at him as he stated his offer. Her heart started to race, her head spun, her brown cheeks started to turn another color from blushing too much. She didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She couldn't stop staring into his eyes though. It was as if he has a spell on her. She watched his eyes as he looked at her. Again she tried to speak but nothing came out. She tried to clear her throat but her hands started to shake. Finally she broke eye contact as she looked at her hands on the table and just nodded.
 
He watched her as she wrestled with her own helpless insecurity, fighting a losing battle against her secret desires. She couldn't make herself speak, but finally she surrendered to a silent nod. He stared at her for a moment longer, than started to rise from his chair.

"I've often wondered why women would desire to be dominated. For men, the sense of power and control is an obvious turn on. but what do the submissives seek? I've gotten different answers from the ones I ask." He was moving around behind her. "Some find security under the control of a strong protector, enjoying his strength as assurance of his protection, at the cost of their personal surrender." His hands were at the back of her chair, pulling it back from the table. "Some wish to explore a sexual side of themselves, but lack the courage to initiate it on their own. They feel freer to release their sensuality when it is directed and controlled by someone else." His hands on her shoulders urged her to stand up. "A few desire to be abused, somehow thinking being a tormented slave justifies their own low self-worthlessness."

His hands slipped from her shoulders, down her arms to her wrists, which he slowly pulled behind her back and pressed together. There were several loose straps attached to his leather jacket, and he pulled one loose with his free hand. Then he wrapped it around her wrists, pulling it tight enough to bind them together, tying a knot to secure her hands there. His hands returned to her shoulders and made her pivot around to face him. He placed a hand on her chin to lift her face, and studied her eyes.

"I'm wondering which are you, Amii," he said, his crooked finger traveling slowly down the front of her neck to rub softly at the base of her throat .
 
Amii listened to him as he started to speak, though she wasn't sure why he got up. She could feel him behind her before he even touched her shoulders. She stayed silent still as he spoke more about why women like to be dominated. As she stood up she started to breath a little heavier. Her eyes closed as he started to tie her wrists, she needed to relax in order to let this really happen and her breathing wasn't helping her.

As she was forced to turn and look up at him Amii, gulping as his hands went down to her throat. "I-... I d-don't kn-kn-know, I-I-I-I th-th-think it's be-be-be-be-because of a-a-alot of of of of those things y-y-yo-you ssssssaid...." she was blushing more and finally had to pull her upper body away from his hand and looked away.
 
With her back almost against the table, there really wasn't anywhere for her to go. He straightened his arm as soon as she attempted to shift away, his hand going around the back of her neck and pulling her back toward him, making her face him and holding her in place. "I did not tell you to move, Amii," he said, his voice calm but tinged with control. "I need you to follow my instructions, and always tell me the truth. That is the nature of our status now."

He paused a moment, looking at her face carefully. His little finger behind her back flicked playfully at her bra strap that was visible peeking from under her wide-necked sweater. "Your wrists are bound, and my hand directs you like a puppet, Amii. How does that make you feel? Is your heart racing? Do you feel hot, like a blush that won't go away? And what other feelings are there? Does your sex feel swollen, heavy, and slick? Are you finding it harder to get a breath? Do your nipples feel sensitive against your bra?"
 
She was a little surprised and how fast he was at grabbing her neck. He knew what he was doing, that much was sure to Amii. When he spoke, it almost scared her. She could only blush as he snapped her bra strap, which made her jump a little as she closed her eyes, trying to hide her fear. She could only nod. Trying to say that every yes or no question that he asked was a yes. She was blushing everywhere. She did have a racing heart. Her love areas were sensitive. She gulped again.
 
He noted her nod, but it wasn't enough. He needed to establish his dominance in every way. "Amii, unless you are gagged, when I ask you for a response, I need you to answer me with your voice. If it is an order, you must say, 'Yes, sir,' and if it is a question, answer either 'Yes, sir,' or 'No, sir.'" He looked at her for a moment, with a touch of empathy in his eyes. "Draw our your constanants, so your stuttering will be less, as in 'yyyyyessssssir,'" he finished with a demonstration.

His hand slipped from her shoulders to her hips, his fingers playing at the hem of her casual jeans, slipping under the waistband of both her pants and panties. "Now, I ask you again. In a moment, I'm going to pull down your pants and you will be naked from the waist down. Am I going to find you aroused? Moist?"
 
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