Art Classes, Chapter 1

My mother was an art teacher. She was also a single mother to me and my
little sister. And it was kind of exciting when I was ten years old, she 
finished her PHD, and took a job in the art department, of a small liberal 
arts, girls college in Vermont.

She was also the kind of person that believed that my sister and I should 
learn responsibility, at a very early age.

We were punished when we misbehaved, and rewarded when we behaved. 
When I say rewarded, I don't mean for everyday, ordinary good behavior. 
Sometimes, given our circumstances, we were required to be extra good 
before mom's exams, or when she was finishing her thesis. Helping out 
more in the running of the house, the cooking and cleaning. Giving her 
more free time to study or write.

All of this paid off, as we rolled into town, one warm afternoon in late July 
of 1987.

Mom was driving our family station wagon, with my little sister, Elizabeth, 
asleep next to her in the front seat. I sat in the back, with our shit zu, 
Leonardo. I don't know. He was 7 years old, and named by my mother. 
She's an art major, remember?

Anyway, I was staring out the window, and all I could say was that the place 
looked in every way, like a normal town. Too bad my life here would not 
turn out normally.

We had the rest of the summer to unpack and explore, before school started, 
and both of us kids not only learned our way around, we each had made a 
couple of good friends.

My friends were the cause of my problem. I had just gotten home from 
school one day, late in September, and the phone just happened to ring. A 
model for one of my mom's classes had to cancel for an extra art lab session 
Saturday afternoon, and he wanted me to tell mom that she would need to 
find a replacement.

Unfortunately, two of my friends just happened to show up at that time, and 
were telling me to hurry up, that we were needed in the park for our football 
game.

I grabbed my helmet and ran out the door, forgetting completely to write the 
message down. This itself, would not have been a problem, if I had 
remembered to let my mother know, face-to-face.

Instead, the whole thing completely left my mind. I never said anything to 
mom. I did have in my mind that I was forgetting something, but I couldn't 
remember what it was.

Saturday rolled around. Elizabeth and I were eating our lunch, hurrying to  
finish so we could rejoin our friends.

Hurry up you two, my class starts in less than an hour."

"What class?" I asked.

"The extra HUMAN ANATOMY lab I'm running this afternoon."

This brought to mind something. Something that I couldn't put my finger 
on.

"I have to be there early, so my model can get ready."

"What model?" I made the mistake of asking.

"The one I hired to pose for my students?"

Suddenly I remembered. The phone call Monday. "Is his name Nathan, or 
something?"

"Nathanial." my mom responded. Suddenly she looked worried, "Why?"

"Someone called Monday saying he had to go out of town this weekend, 
that you needed to find a replacement."

"For this weekend?'

"Yes."

"And his name was Nathaniel?"

"Yes."

"My model for today!"

"Maybe." I knew I was in trouble for this one. I just didn't know how bad. 
Mom took it well.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me Monday? I'll never be able to find someone 
else in ." she looks at her watch, "45 minutes. What were you thinking? It's 
too late to cancel. Some people are coming here from two hours away."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry doesn't even begin to cut it. You've inconvenienced a lot of 
people. You'll never be able to make it up to me. Or to them."

"You have to cancel class because you don't have a model?"

"Yes. We have to cancel, because you forgot to tell me I don't have a 
model." She replied, "You've screwed things over for a lot of people."

"Can't I make it up to you?"

"Only if you can find me a model in the next half hour."

"What does this model have to do?"

"Stand there, without moving, so that the class can sketch him. He was 
going to do six poses, 20 minutes each, with a ten minute break between 
each."

"And he was going to get paid for this?" An idea was already beginning to 
form in my head. If mom was going to pay this guy, and I doubt, that he 
would do it for free, than I could take his place, the class could go on, and I 
would get paid.

"Yes, 25 dollars per pose."

"So you were going to pay him 150 bucks?"

"Yes. Oh god, I can't even get to the bank to get the class their money back. 
I'm going to have to pay them back later. They won't like that."

"What if you didn't have to refund their money?"

"What do you mean young man?"

"If you had a model, the class could go on, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I could model for you?"

"What?"

"Let me do it. I do your modeling, the class goes on, and you can pay me. 
You don't even have to pay me all. I'll work for a hundred!" 100 dollars was 
more that I had ever had to my name, at any moment in my life! "As long as 
I get to spend it like I want. On whatever I want. You can't say a word."

Mom looked up at the ceiling. Then she turned in my direction, "If I say yes, 
there's no backing out. You do as you are told. When you are told. Where 
you are told. How you are told." The stern look caused me to rethink my 
offer for a second. Just one second. I wanted out of the grounding I had 
certainly earned. I also wanted the money.

"As long as I'm not in trouble for this. Then yes." mom looked at me, 
impressed with my negotiating skills.

"Ok, you do as you are told, and you won't be grounded. Deal?"

"Deal!" The smile on my face, the result of my success, only lasted a 
moment.

"You might have been happier with the grounding. Hurry up, change your 
clothes and comb your hair. We leave in five minutes."

Now the whole time, my sister was sitting across the table from me, first 
trying to resist the urge to laugh, because she knew I was in serious trouble, 
and she loved every minute of it. But watching her deflate as I took the 
modeling job, I was tempted to rub her disappointment right in her face, 
when I returned, but as I reentered the kitchen, she was now giggling.

This didn't look good, but I had no choice now. Obviously, mom had said 
something to her while I was out of the room , but what it was I didn't 
know. 

My only clue was her shout as we headed out the back door, "Don't let 
yourself get too cold."

I wondered at this. It may have been late September but we were in the 
middle of `Indian Summer' in New England, a time when the local 
temperatures could still reach into the low ninties, without warning. How 
could I possibly feel cold.

"I learned the answer to this soon enough. We arrived at mom's studio in 
just a few minutes. She unlocked the door for us, and we entered.. I was 
excited. I had never been here before. I'd never had a 100 bucks before, 
either. Mostly it was excitement over the money.

"You can change in that room over there."

"What. I have a costume?"

"No."

"Than what am I changing into?"

"Nothing."

"I don't get it."

"Listen. This is an anatomy drawing class. The model is nude."

"What?"

"Go into that room over there, take off your clothes, and wrap a towel 
around your waist."

"But mom, you never said anything about . . ."

"You never asked!" she responded. Cutting me off.

"But I don't want to be naked." I was starting to get worried.

"Listen. You caused this mess. You offered to clean it up. I accepted your 
suggestion. If you bail on me now, you'll be grounded till after Christmas. 
And I was only going to ground you til Halloween."

I was trapped. And I knew it. I had no choice. I slowly walked over to the 
dressing room, went in, and locked the door from the inside.

I stood there for several minutes, not moving an inch. I could keep the door 
locked and not come out until everyone had gone. I'd still get grounded, 
maybe until Easter. But at least I'd get to keep my pants on!

Except, that as the class arrived, I could hear mom talking to her students as 
they set up their art supplies. 

"Yes, well we almost had to cancel at the last minute. I only found out an 
hour ago that our model had actually cancelled on Monday. Luckily, the 
person who forgot to tell me, volunteered to take his place."

"Really? Who?"

"My ten year old son!"

"Wow. This will be special!"

"We'll have to go easy on him, he's never done this before."

"A virgin then?"

"Well, probably. Let's just say, inexperienced, in a lot of things. I hope."

I was doomed. With mom talking like that I couldn't let her down. I started 
to undo the buttons on my shirt.

Soon I am nude. Nothing left to do, but open the door, and accept that not 
only my mother, but a whole room full of ladies would be seeing my naked 
body. But I hesitated in opening the door. I just stood there as more and 
more voices could be heard on the other side of the doorway.

The noise had risen to a great height, when there was a soft tapping at the 
door.

"Are you ready sweetie?"

"Just a minute. I have to put on the towel."

"Well be quick. Everybody is here, and we're ready to start!"

There was nothing left for it. I grabbed a towel hanging from a bar on the 
wall, and wrapped it around my waist. I could hear mom starting her class.

"Ladies. Ladies. Your attention please. Thank you. Welcome to our nude 
figure drawing lab. I'm sorry, but even though everyone seems here, there 
will be a momentary delay before our model comes out. As I told a few of 
you earlier, we almost had to cancel this afternoon, because our scheduled 
model had to cancel. Fortunately, we have a replacement. Please be a little 
more understanding, this is his first time, and he is rather . . ."

As she is talking, I can delay no longer. The towel is around me, so I turn 
the handle on the door. I open it slowly, and I guess as my mom is watching, 
she continues "young. Ah. It appears he's ready , and he's now coming out. 
So could I have you welcome today's model, my son, James."

"As the door had opened, and mom finished her speech, I stepped back into 
the shadow of the changing room. When she had finished, I had no choice, 
so I walked out.

Over two dozen heads turned in my direction, as I walked slowly into the 
room. A couple of the ladies were on the young side, but most were little old 
ladies. One, I recognized as Mrs. Anderson, the part-time librarian at my 
school. Two others were teachers, and a fourth worked in the cafeteria. All 
four sat near each other, so I guess that they were a kind of art club in the 
school. Other ladies I recognized from church, and several I recognized as 
the mothers of some of the kids at my school.

Mom was motioning for me to come forward, so I began walking faster. All 
too soon I had reached the front of the room. I turned around to face the 
class. Once again My mother introduce me. "Ladies, Jamie!."

I waved at them.

"Ok. Everyone is now here, including our model. We can begin! Remember, 
Jamie will stay in a single pose, for 20 or so minutes, and then he will have 
the opportunity to move around. Then he will assume another pose for you. 
This will happen six times this afternoon. Please concentrate on sketching 
Jamie only. After you leave here today, you can then fill in the remainder of 
your drawing. And as always, I will be available, after any of my regularly 
scheduled class sessions, and during the latter half of my scheduled office 
hours, and by appointment, to assist you in finishing your works!'

"Are we ready then?" Numerous nods from the class. "OK. Lets begin."

"Jamie, will you come here please."

This was it. No turning back now. I was committed. Besides, there was no 
where to run. I followed mom the few steps backwards on the raised dais 
upon which we were perched.

"I'm afraid this has to go now dear." she told me. She reached down to 
grasp my towel. Reluctantly, I put my hand down, and undid the 
overlapping of the fabric at my waist that was the only thing holding the 
towel on my body. In an instant, it was gone from my body, and my all was 
bared to all. 

"For the first pose, I thought we would go easy on the boy. James, could you 
put your arms before you, folded, resting on the table, than lean forward and 
rest yourself upon your arms."

I was spared a little bit. Only my rear would be shown to the women. Then I 
found out what I was posing as. 

"Jamie has just been spanked by an unknown parent. When you finish, make 
sure his little derriere has a slightly reddish tone to it. And to show the 
reader, what has happened, we have this. She reached behind the table, and 
removed a wooden paddle, which she leaned up against the table, so you 
would no what the subjects predicament was. A second paddle was placed 
against the table to the left of me, so that the ladies on the left could also 
have one to reference when drawing me.

For the first five minutes, this was fun. Knowing that these ordinary, 
respectable women, were admiring my body. I was excited. But after about 
ten minutes the whole thing became rather boring. After fifteen, my muscles 
started to strain, from holding still in the same position, for such a long 
time.

When the twenty minutes were over, I was relieved when my mother came 
forward and asked "Time's up, does anyone need more time?"

Several ladies asked for five more minutes, so mom agreed. I was beginning 
to feel relief when I thought the first session was over. Knowing now that I 
still had an extra five minutes, my muscles seemed to be straining even 
more. Finally mom announced that this session was done, and that we 
would be having a ten minute break.

I stood up straight, and was so relieved to be able to move and stretch my 
muscles, that I forgot that I was naked. I turned around, without covering 
my little cock with my hand. When some of the ladies, viewed their first 
glimpse of my little manhood, they nodded towards me. I realized what had 
happened, and knew that if I covered myself now, the women would only 
laugh at my pointless modesty.

All too soon, the ten minutes were up. In this time, mom had prepared the 
second setting. This time, a pedestal sink was placed in the center of the 
dais. I was made to face the sink, standing sideways to the ladies. My left 
hand rested on the sink, and my right hand was brushing my teeth.

Again, this pose, was not to painful at first, but after 10 minutes, the fact 
that I could not move my right hand began to be straining. My arm grew 
more and more tired. Twenty minutes into this pose, mom again mounted 
the platform, and only two ladies this time asked for an extra five minutes.

The ten minute break was again a relief. This time, I chose to walk around 
the class, as I needed to move my legs to prevent the muscles from locking 
up on me. As I walked, I was able to see a few of the sketches made of me. 
Most of them looked nice, and I was actually impressed with several. One, 
by Mrs. Anderson, the mother of one of the boys in my class, was so good, 
you could actually tell by the face that it was me.

All too soon, the break was over, and it was time for pose number three. 
This time, I was leaning backwards against the front end of a wooden 
rowboat that had been cut in half, my left leg, resting on some kind of 
lobster or crab trap. 
]
During the break, I again walked around the class, peeking at the drawings. 
Again I was impressed by the detail of the drawings. And again, Mrs. 
Anderson's was the most life-like.

The Fourth pose was probably the most stressful of the six. Mom had simply 
attached a small length of chain from a support in the ceiling. The end of the 
chain contained a large hook. I was instructed to stand on a small box, then 
to grab onto the hook. When I was ready, mom removed the box from 
beneath me, and I was left hanging by my arms, from the hook. This time, 
the strain began to build after only a moment or two. The rest of this session 
was pure torture. Mom latter explained that she had come up with this one, 
because she still wanted me to feel like I had been punished. I wondered if 
she was incapable of believing that my being naked in front of her, and a 
bunch of old ladies should have been punishment enough. But I guess she 
felt the fact that I was making 100 dollars was a privilege, and so she had to 
punish me somehow.

The fifth pose, was probably the most relaxing. She simply had me lying on 
a bed, face down, with my arm handing over the side.

The last pose was probably my most favorite. This time, I was simply 
leaning against a fake lamp post. My arms were folded across my chest, and 
I had been given a large wad of bubble gum. I was told to chew, and then 
blow as large a bubble as I could. After several tries, I had a really big one, 
large enough to cover my face. Mom shouted out "Perfect!" and so I just 
leaned there, as the ladies sketched me.

Now that I was done for the day, I wanted nothing more that to get back to 
the changing room and get dressed. But as I walked towards the changing 
room, I kept being stopped by the ladies, who thanked my for being so 
grown up, and so considerate for saving their class.

"It was nothing. It was my pleasure." No response was good enough. most 
of the ladies handed me a little money as they shook my hand. 

When I finally got to the dressing room, it seemed pointless now to shut the 
door, so I simply began getting dressed. When I was finished, I just sat in 
there, on the bench, waiting for mom to finish up with the ladies. All the 
while, thoughts of "Wow, I can't believe I just did that." and "Man am I glad 
that's over." kept pouring through my head.

When the last student had left, mom finished straightening up. This only 
took ten minutes. When she finished, she asked "Are you ready to go 
home?''

"Yes."

"Ok. Let's get going then."

"Mom, what am I supposed to do with this?" I held up a handful of bills.

"Did you count it yet?"

"No."

Well, that's your tips from the ladies. They pay like that if they think you did 
a good job, and acted professionally. You can count it in the car."

We walked to the car, and on the ride home I counted over 80 dollars.

":Wow! You did pretty good for your first time!"

`Yeah!. I guess so."

"And remember, you still have another 100 coming from me."

I had forgotten about this. 180 bucks, and only for about 4 hours work. 
Nothing like this could ever happen to me again.

When we got home, a sudden thought occurred to me.

"Mom,"

"Yes dear?"

"Does Elizabeth know what I was going to be doing this afternoon?"

"What do you think we were talking about when you went upstairs to get 
changed? She wanted to know why you weren't going to be grounded."

"So you told her everything." I could feel myself starting to want to cry.

I knew I was dead. My 8 year old little sister would never let me live this 
down. I expected to be teased to death when we got home. Instead, she said 
nothing.

That's when I made my real mistake of the day. 180 dollars, for only 4 hours 
or so of work was much to great a temptation. At the dinner table that night, 
I had to ask mom, "Mom, are you going to be holding another of those 
classes anytime soon?"

"Probably right after Thanksgiving dear. Why?"

"Do you need a model?"

To be continued.

  
The Art Classes