The Art Model: Forced Lesbian Submission (FFFFF)

by Sable Collins

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Blank Page

  - The Art Model

  THE ART MODEL

  S A B L E C O L L I N S

  Copyright © 2016 Sable Collins

  All rights reserved.

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  Excerpt from The Art Model:

  She walks over to me and digs the paintbrush into my chest as she paints with large exaggerated strokes. “It’s your best work yet.” Tracy says sarcastically.

  I look down and see the word ‘slut’ painted on my chest. I had never felt so degraded in my entire life, and it was at the hands of a so called “feminist.” I hate these bitches, but I wasn’t going to let them see me squirm. I refuse to give them the satisfaction.

  The redhead grabs both of my ample tits and squeezes hard. She digs her fingers into my flesh. I could hardly hold back a gasp as her rough touch brings me a strange mixture of pain and pleasure. “I bet all those little college boys really love sucking these babies” she says before she slaps both breasts.

  A sharp sting hangs in my chest. My face slightly grimaces from the pain. The redhead slowly moves the paintbrush down through my cleavage. The rough bristles causing every hair on my body to stand on end. She moves the paintbrush over to my already stiff nipples. The way she dances the paintbrush over my nipples makes me want to moan. She knows exactly what she is doing. She was deliberately teasing me. “I think she likes it” the redhead says in a sinister tone. One of the women holding my legs pipes up. “Of course she loves it, she’s a dirty slut.”

  All characters portrayed in this eBook are 18 years of age or older.

  These stories contain explicit sex scenes and is only intended for mature audiences.

  Enjoy!…

  The Art Model

  “Theres no need to be nervous” Tracey says.

  Tracey was the art teacher I would be working with today. If I had to guess I would say she was in late thirties to early forties. She was still a very beautiful woman. Beautiful even despite not making any attempt to be feminine. Her jet black hair was pulled back into a tight bun and her clothes gave off the impression that they were there for comfort, and nothing else. Her tone was blunt. The way she looked at me with her dark brown eyes didn’t do anything to calm my nerves.

  “Oh, I’m fine” I said. What a lie. I was nervous. After all, I was about to pose naked in front of total strangers.

  The idea of being naked in front of strangers was fine until I had got to Tracey’s studio. A week before I signed up to become a live figure drawing model. I stumbled upon an ad for it on Craigslist. The pay was great. $35 per hour to pose naked in a few positions. What the hell, I thought. I’m not ashamed of my body and I could desperately use a little extra cash. I was getting sick of eating nothing but ramen noodles as I made my way through school. This little side hustle could afford me some decent groceries if nothing else.

  Tracey looks at me like she could see right through me. “Well come on then, and follow me. I’ll introduce to the class.”

  I follow Tracey into the other room. My heart was running wild. Never in my life had done anything like this.

  Tracey opens the door to a dimly lit room. The only light in the room is a bright spot light illuminating the middle of the room. My anxiety is diminishes a bit when I notice that there are only three students in the class, and they’re all women. The women all look like they could be around Tracey’s age. The woman at the easel to the right has short auburn hair, the woman in the middle is a bubbly blonde, and the woman to the left is a brunette with visible tattoos.

  “This is Madeline, and she will be your model for this evening’s figure drawing session” Tracey says. I gave them a nervous smile but they were too busy mixing paint to notice.

  Tracey looks over at me. “You can disrobe now, Madeline.”

  I undid the tie and let the robe fall to the ground. All 5’3” of my slender frame was now on display. A surge of adrenaline shoots through me. Instead of anxiousness I feel empowered.

  My body trembles as I hold my pose. I wasn’t facing them but I could still feel their stares. I look out of the corner of my eye and notice the red headed woman staring at me lewdly. She didn’t even try to hide it. Her paint brush hadn’t even touched the canvas yet. All of sudden, I didn’t feel so empowered. The way that she was looking at me was starting to make me feel uncomfortable.

  After a few minutes I feel Tracey’s cold hands grab my shoulders. She moves my body with no warning. There was a forc
efulness to the way she positions me. It was like I was nothing but a prop to her. She spun me around so my backside was facing the class and then presses down on my shoulders. Before I could even protest I find myself bent over with my shapely plump ass in the air.

  I could feel a cool draft against my pussy. My pussy that was now on full display. I didn’t feel comfortable with the position I was in, but I didn’t stop it either. They’re artists, they’re here to paint not ogle me, I tell myself. I only half believe this. A little lie I tell myself to justify the uneasy situation that was beginning to unfold.

  After a couple more minutes, I feel Tracy forcefully grab me again, and this time position me towards the class . Tracy holds my shoulders firmly as her body presses against my backside. I look out at the three women that were all staring at me crudely. There was hidden agenda behind their eyes. It was becoming clear that they weren’t just here to paint.

  My lip trembles as the reality of the situation begins to sink in. Tracey’s grip grew firmer. I feel her warm breath on my neck as she whispers in my ear. “I have some unorthodox approaches to art. I believe that my student’s best work comes out when they can really get in touch with their subject.”

  Her grip tightens. “What do you mean?” I ask nervously.

  The redheaded woman gets up from behind her easel and walks towards me. The other two women follow. Tracey pulls me into her body, holding me close. My body feels frozen with panic but then adrenaline kicks in. “What the hell is going on?” I scream, trying to wriggle out of Tracey’s grasp.

  Tracey holds my arms with even more force. “It’s best if you just go with it.” She says through clenched teeth.

  “Help! Help me!” I scream at the top of my lungs. But Tracey’s studio is so far away from anything else that there’s no chance anyone will her my screams.

  The redhead approaches me. The look in her eyes was even more lewd than before. As she reaches for me I kick at her, hitting her in the stomach, and knocking her back. “Stay the fuck away from me!” I scream.

  The other two women quickly jump in and grab my flailing legs and hold them in place. I scream loudly as the three other women hold my writhing body in place. The struggle and screaming makes it difficult to catch my breath and I eventually give up. “What do you want from me?” I say through belabored breaths.

  The redhead approaches me. She has a menacing smirk on her face as she leans into kiss me. “Fuck off” I yell as I spit in her face.

  The redheads smirk turns to a frown as she wipes my spit from her face. She grabs my cheeks with her paint covered hands, squeezing my lips together so they press up like a duck. She leans in so close that her lips are practically touching mine. “We didn’t come here to paint. We came here to teach you a lesson you little slut.”

  “W-w-what are you talking about” I say completely confused. Was this figure drawing class just a front for a group of middle aged lesbian deviants?

  “I bet you think your hot shit parading your tight little body around. Exposing yourself for a few dollars. Women like you make me sick! ” the redhead says as she grabs a paint brush off the table.

  ‘Women like you make me sick!’ Who were these bitches? Lesbian bible thumping Feminists?

  The redhead dips the brush into a can of paint. “You like showing off your hot little naked ass, don’t you?”

  “I was just doing this for a little extra cash, you fucking psychotic bitch! Just because I’m comfortable showing off my body doesn’t make me a slut. It’s my body I can do whatever the fuck I want with it. It’s uptight prude dykes like you that ruin for the rest of us women, not me!”

  The redhead pulls the paint brush from the can. The brush is covered with a rosy red paint. The same color as her cheeks. I could tell that my words had set her off.

  She walks over to me and digs the paintbrush into my chest as she paints with large exaggerated strokes. “It’s your best work yet.” Tracy says sarcastically.

  I look down and see the word ‘slut’ painted on my chest. I had never felt so degraded in my entire life, and it was at the hands of a so called “feminist.” I hate these bitches, but I wasn’t going to let them see me squirm. I refuse to give them the satisfaction.

  The redhead grabs both of my ample tits and squeezes hard. She digs her fingers into my flesh. I could hardly hold back a gasp as her rough touch brings me a strange mixture of pain and pleasure. “I bet all those little college boys really love sucking these babies” she says before she slaps both breasts.

  A sharp sting hangs in my chest. My face slightly grimaces from the pain. The redhead slowly moves the paintbrush down through my cleavage. The rough bristles causing every hair on my body to stand on end. She moves the paintbrush over to my already stiff nipples. The way she dances the paintbrush over my nipples makes me want to moan. She knows exactly what she is doing. She was deliberately teasing me. “I think she likes it” the redhead says in a sinister tone. One of the women holding my legs pipes up. “Of course she loves it, she’s a dirty slut.”

  I turn my head away from my tormentor in attempt to hide my true feelings. Although I hate these bitches for what they were doing to me, I couldn’t help but get turned on. The warm sensations of pleasure in my chest were now traveling down between my legs. I feel my lips wet with juice, and the women holding both my legs notice it too. “This slut is sopping wet” one of the woman says.

  The redhead’s eye light up. She slowly and teasingly moves the paintbrush down my stomach. Her eyes never leave mine. She was looking to break me and I trying my best to keep it together. My pussy began to quiver as she moves the paintbrush lower. I bite down on my lip as I feel the the bristles tickle me below my belly button. I hear the paintbrush drop to the ground and then the feeling of a cold hand against my hot slit.

  I couldn’t hold back any longer. A loud moan escapes my mouth. My body trembles as she saws her fingers between my wet folds. As much as I try to resist, I can’t. My mind is saying ‘no’ but my body wants more. I cry to the ceiling a mix of anguish and delight. I open my body towards her, even gyrating my hips as I feel two of her fingers plunge inside me.

  “You love this don’t you?” the redhead says slowly fingering my wet cunt.

  I didn’t answer. Of, course I loved it, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. She increases the speed of her fingers causing me to yelp. The other women snicker. “Admit it, you little slut, you love it!”

  I shake my head and spurt out some gibberish nonsense. It’s not long before her fingers push inside with even more force. Sloppy wet sounds and scattered moans are the only thing you can hear throughout the studio. “Say it!” she commands.

  At this point, the pleasure is too overwhelming. I feel I could erupt at any second. There was no point in fighting it any longer. “I love it! I fucking love it, oh god I’m going come! I scream.

  I can feel my climax approaching, but then she stops. My body writhes in anguish but this time it was for more. Tracey’s leans in and whispers in my ear. Her words snap me out of my apex. “You didn’t think you were going to get off that easy, did you?”

  Before I can even catch my breath I feel the women lift me up. The next thing I know my body is bent over a table. My legs are once again held down by two women. Tracey pushes down on my back, causing my ample tits to squish against the table and my ass to push into the air. “What are you going to do to me?” I ask half nervously and half eagerly.

  The women laugh. “Oh, you’ll see” Tracey says.

  I crane my neck to get a better look. The redhead is squirting paint all over a wooden palette. A varying mix of paints to match the varying mix of emotions storming inside me.

  I tense my muscles as the redhead raises the palette in the air.

  SMACK!

  The wooden palette slaps my ass causing a loud wet crack. I wince in pain as the sting traveles through my core. Another loud crack fills the air as the wooden palette smacks my other cheek. This time I can’t he
lp but cry out.

  Before the redhead could wind up for another smack I grab her attention. “Is that all you got?” I yell through gritted teeth.

  I knew that my words would grab her attention and they did. A devious smiled forms on her face, and she drops the palette to the ground. Two could play at this game. Little did these sadistic bitches know, but I wanted the punishment. They were taking me just like I had always secretly wished to be taken - raw and against my will.