Author: Spunk N. Wagnels
Title: (SNW) Not With My Daughter! 36
Part: 36
Universe: Not With My Daughter! Saga
Summary: Marnie and her friends experience the aftermath of an auction as Marnie's
blackmailer extends his power over Marnie's friends as one is forced to model 
nude while daughter Brenda is forced to strip down for some incriminating pictures.
Keywords: exhibition, humiliation, blackmail, forced nudity, nc

The following is adult fiction intended for legally mature adults to view at
their discretion where and when it is legal to do so.  Similarity to persons,
living or dead is coincidence.  The author reserves all rights.  Permission is
granted to archive in places where adults can legally view it free of charge,
and as long as no words are changed, including this disclaimer.


This is a continuation of a story, "Not With My Daughter!" & "Not With My
Daughter! Parts 2-35", which can be found at "Spunk's Place" (See at bottom) 


Not With My Daughter!  Part 36
By Spunk N. Wagnels

On the following Monday, Barbara arrived at an old warehouse building, which had
been converted into residential and artist lofts.  When she entered she could
smell paint.  The man greeted her solicitously and led her through the space
over to a large padded ottoman, six feet in diameter.  "Why don't you sit here?"
He offered.

"Ah, okay," Barbara replied, "what are you going to have me paint today?"
growing leery as she was coming to the conclusion, looking around, that she was
in an artist's studio.

"Oh, I don't think you understood me Friday; I'm going to be painting you."  He
said.  

"Me?"  Barbara said shocked.

"Yes.  I figured that, as a homemaker, you would have the patience of a saint
and would be able to sit still for me while I put you on canvass."

"Oh, I don't know. …"  Barbara replied.

"Really, I bid on you because you had the most perfect body, at least for my
tastes.  I'm painting a commissioned portrait of a lady for her to give to her
husband, and I'd like her to have your body.  I'll be having her sit later so I
can add her face."

"That doesn't sound very honest." Barbara said, trying to find a way out of it.

"Oh, I think she will be pleased.  She said at the Charity Banquet that of all
the volunteers, she would most like to have your body."  He explained.  Barbara
cringed inside at the use of the word "volunteers."  "If I could just have you
sit up on this, I'll quickly sketch some possibilities."

The painter asked her to remove the heels, frilly top, and skirt leaving her in
her two-toned body suit.  He positioned her in various poses and quickly drew
rough sketches to decide which pose he would like to use for the canvass.  He
crumpled up the reclining and standing poses and went for one with Barbara on
the round padded oversized ottoman on hands and knees.  She was facing him off
about twenty degrees to his left with her knees spread, haunches down and head
up in a waking lioness stretch.  "There, that says 'woman, hear me roar,' just
right for Mrs. Crenshaw.  Are you comfortable?"

"Ah, sure, but for how long?"  Barbara asked.

"I'll need you to hold very still while I'm painting.  I'll give you a stretch
break every fifteen to twenty minutes though.  I want you to remember this pose.
It's perfect.  That's it, just like that."  He said pleased.  Barbara tried to
relax in the posture.  Her breasts hung full behind her arms and her pussy was
open behind her.  It made her feel wanton in this posture in front of this
stranger in her revealing outfit.  "Now, how about taking off that top.  It
hides the musculature of your upper body."

"Oh no, I couldn't do that."  Barbara protested.

"Sure you can.  I don't even know who you are or what you'd look like except for
that fantastic body.  I'm not asking you to take off the hood for god's sakes."
He clarified.

"But, but …" Barbara hesitated.

"Look, I'm a professional.  I paint the human body day in and day out, most of
them are not as nice as yours, but each attractive in their own right.  Come
here; let me show you." He held out his hand in invitation for her to follow him
over to some floor to ceiling doors.  He pulled them open and pulled out shelves
on rollers with paintings of all description, including many nudes.  "There, you
see, I've done this many times, and you're wearing a mask where these models
didn't."

"Okay."  Barbara said resigned but not fully in agreement.  She shyly removed
her top and wanted to cover her breasts, but got back into position.  "The
sooner I get this done, the sooner I can leave." She said to herself.

The painter sketched away the outline he wanted for the painting while Barbara
tried to calm her nerves.  It helped to realize that he had done this many times
before.  Her breasts felt free hanging down and dampness was growing from the
tingling in her crotch.  "Okay," the painter said standing straight looking at
his subject, "Now the bottoms please."

"What?" Barbara responded with surprise.

"Please remove the hose, I need to be able to see the definition, of the thighs
and haunches."

Barbara sensed that resistance was useless.  He could reason the hood and could
demonstrate his professionalism again, so she moved to the far edge of the
ottoman and seated facing away from him, removed the pantyhose from her legs.
Then she crawled back up turning shades of red at having her nether region open
and exposed to any and all that would walk behind her.  "He really doesn't see
any more from this angle." She rationalized to herself.

"There, that's just fine.  Now I'm going to need you to hold that posture
without moving, okay?" He directed.  Barbara nodded.

Barbara froze when she heard a knock at the door.  "Excuse me."  The painter
told her.  "I'll be right back."  He opened the door and was surprised to see
the visitor, "It completely slipped my mind.  Come in. Come in.  I was just
working on a commission.  I hope it will be appropriate for your class."  He
cautioned.

Barbara didn't feel like a lioness any longer, she felt like a stunned rabbit
that should run and hide, but was too much in shock to respond, as the lady
entered followed by her middle school class of students.  They followed the
painter to his canvass and looked at his outline, then moved up to Barbara and
sat in front of her as a group awaiting instruction.  As the lady talked
privately with the painter, some of the kids moved up to the ottoman and circled
Barbara staring up at her naked, hooded form.  While the teacher seemed to flirt
with the painter, a boy bravely reached up and touched Barbara's nipple, only to
have his arm pulled away and hand slapped by a bossy girl next to him.  Barbara
broke her pose and covered her breasts with her crossed hands provoking the
painter to remind her to return to her pose and hold still now that he was ready
to get back to work.

Hearing that she was to hold still, a mischievous boy behind her put his fingers
on her newly shaved pussy lips.  The students on either side of him tried to
hold their giggles with hands on their mouths, but the painter, teacher and the
other students couldn't see his teasing activities, being blocked from view by
her body.  Barbara didn't know what to do.  She had no place to go and hide; she
didn't know which imp was tormenting her; and, she was fulfilling an obligation
of the auction to act professionally for the painter.  The painter was only half
paying attention to his task deciding rather to flirt with the teacher now that
all of the kids' eyes were riveted on Barbara's nude form.

With the success of the one boy, the other one next to him slid his fingers up
and down the outside of Barbara's nether lips with impunity as well.  Barbara's
juices started to flow from the humiliation and embarrassment as much as the
clumsy physical stimulation.  The boys ended up getting their fingers gooey and
uttered, "ooo0O0ooo" in unison.  Barbara dared to turn her head back and sternly
whispered, "Stop it!"

The teacher realized she had been neglecting the class and letting things get
out of hand and addressed them to get their attention.  She began to explain a
cursory history of figure painting and asked the painter to address the class
about his profession.  Barbara took a break from the pose while he spoke by
sitting on her heels and holding her arms across her sensitive breasts.  The
students mostly paid attention to the teacher and the painter except for one
behind her who slid his hand in between her legs again and continued to fiddle
with her pussy.  Barbara pretended that it wasn't happening so she wouldn't
bring the attention back to her.  She let herself get lost in the sensation that
the young demon was creating as his touch grew more and more skilled with each
passing moment.  

Her body began to slowly unwind.  Her arms went to just her hands covering her
breasts, her knees started to move further apart, her hooded head turned up to
the ceiling, and her rear started to thrust back obscenely toward her molester's
fingers.  For his effort, the boy was treated to a wanton display of sensuous
adult woman that he was affecting by learning those touches on the fly that
caused her to move the most.

Looking over, the teacher yelled, "Rollie! Leave that poor woman alone. …"  

The kid pulled his hand back and ducked down behind the ottoman.  Barbara gasped
in surprise and fell forward, catching herself with her hands.  Not wanting to
let on to the class, now looking at her again as the lecture continued, she
quickly got into the original position she was in when they first arrived.
Outside of the redness from embarrassment evident on her upper chest, heavy
breathing from deep down in her belly, and quivering knees, she was ready to be
painted again.

"… and it is tough enough being a professional model, without you scoundrels
distracting her.  If you can't behave, I'll have to cancel the next 'Career
Exploration Day.'" Then turning to her painter friend, "… and what are the
hardest parts of the body to paint?"

 * * * * * 

At school, Brenda ran to catch up with Susan in the hall, "Hey, wait up."

"Gosh Brenda, I've gotta fly.  Call you later."  Susan said back.

Brenda wended her way through the students until she saw her friend Jennifer,
"Hey Jen, I'll walk with you."

"Hi Brenda, I'm kinda late.  I'll talk to you later, okay?"  Jennifer said.

"Geez.  What is it with everyone today?" Brenda thought. "Do I have cooties or
something?"

Then as she was about to turn into her classroom, two girls grabbed her arms on
each side and walked her forcibly past the door and into the girl's room.

"What's the idea?" Brenda said with her back against the wall, and the girls
blocking her exit.

"You've been holding out on us, Sister." The one with the long dark brunette
hair on Brenda's left said.

"Yeah, flirting that sexy body all around the school, making us think you're
teasing the boys, when you were secretly into girls." The other in the short
crop curly blonde hair said.

"No! No! You've got it all wrong."  Brenda said with desperation.  "That
picture, that picture was taken at a modeling gig that went wrong.  You see …"

"Pictures don't lie."  The brunette said. "You were hugging Lambert.  We can all
see that.  We've all wanted to be that close to Lammy Babe, but she'll only go
so far with you."

"No. You see, Ms. Lambert isn't into women, she's into men."  Brenda explained. 

"You're just saying that to get out of here."  The blonde said.

"No, really.  She is just friendly, that's all."  Brenda protested. "I swear to
you.  She's not gay and neither am I."

"If anyone can tell, we can tell."  The brunette said. "One of these days Kim
here and I are going to have a piece of her, just like we are going to have with
you."

"No! Please!"

"We'll see just how straight you really are."  The blonde Kim declared.  "If you
don't cum with what we do with you, then we'll believe you don't have a gay
side."

"But if you like it, then we'll all know, won't we?" The brunette said.

"No, please.  This is all a big mistake."  Brenda pleaded.

"You're coming with us."  The brunette insisted.

"No, I've got classes." Brenda protested.

"Open your blouse." Kim ordered.

"What?"

"Open your blouse, if you want us to let you go now and meet up with you later.
Do it!" Kim said sternly.

"I can't.  People will come in and see me."

"No they wont.  Everyone is in classes for now. Do it or we'll do it for you."
Kim insisted.

Brenda was feeling very intimidated by these two seniors she had only just seen
a couple of times, but had no reference for.  Slowly she unbuttoned her blouse.
"That's it." The brunette said with gleeful anticipation in her eyes.  "Now pull
open your blouse." She said when the last button was undone. "Nice.  You're one
lucky bitch. Look at these."

"Oh yeah." Kim confirmed.

"I'll hold your blouse while you take off this bra."  The brunette offered,
while running her index finger sensuously along the underside of the left strap.
Brenda removed the blouse, blushing in humiliation and embarrassment.  Then she
closed her eyes to avoid the ogling she was sure to receive from the two girls
as she lowered her bra down her arms.  "What's with the handprints?"

Brenda opened her eyes looking down to answer, "That was just a lark my friend
Jimmy Crandel and I did one day." She said trying to make it sound like he was
her boyfriend.

"Kind of a small handprint, Jimmy a girl?"  Kim asked suspiciously.

"No, he's a boy and he's my friend; and, he's my photographer."  She thought to
add.  "I'm a model, you see."

"You got the looks babe," the brunette conceded, "but I'm still not buying it."
She said holding out her hand to take the bra.

Meanwhile, Kim was reaching in her backpack and pulled out a Polaroid camera.
"No! No! Not that!  This isn't fair.  You have me all wrong.  Why are you doing
this to me?" Brenda pleaded.

"This is just a little insurance, Sweet Cheeks, to make sure you meet up with us
after your 'Classes' for your test." Kim explained.

"What are you going to do with that?"  Brenda asked, now covering her breasts as
best she could with her hands.

"We're gonna take a couple of shots to hold for the rest of the day, and if you
cooperate and meet up with us at the end of the day, you can have them back;
see? 'Polaroid's.'" Kim said.  "Now, lift those beauties up with your hands and
lick a nipple."

"What?" Brenda uttered surprised. Then she moved her hands from the front to the
undersides of her breasts and started to lift them. "I get these pictures back,
right?"

"Oh yeah, no problem. Now lick!" Brenda reached her tongue down to her right
nipple and touched it with the tip.  FLASH! Her stomach soured. "No Sweets,
you've gotta look at the camera when you do it and smile."  Brenda tried to
smile while touching her nipple with the tip of her tongue. FLASH! Her pussy
began to tingle. "Com'on you're a model, right? Look like you're enjoying it.
Smile with your eyes. That's it." FLASH! She shivered and hoped it passed
unnoticed during the flash.

The brunette held a photo in each hand to see how they'd turn out with Brenda's
blouse and bra draped over her left arm.  Kim held the last one.  Brenda leaned
against the wall holding her breasts awaiting instructions for more shots if
they needed them, wishing upon hope they would not be interrupted by another
student, or, god forbid, a teacher walking in on them.

The two seniors conferred and nodded.  "Okay, you wouldn't want any of these
passed around at school here, now would you?" Kim asked showing Brenda the
shots.

"Oh god, no!" Brenda responded emphatically.

"Okay, here you are."  The brunette said, handing Brenda her clothes. 

"Okay, meet us by the covered court in back at the end of classes." Kim
directed. "Be on time.  For every five minutes you make us wait, I give a
picture to the first person that happens by. You got it?"

Brenda nodded earnestly.

 * * * * *

Barbara's nipples were excited and erect; her nether lips glistened and were
supersensitive, just begging to be stimulated to a state of satiation, so she'd
be able to tolerate the rest of the posing session.  The teacher was asking the
class for questions when Barbara felt a pair of fingers walking around her
backside, then another pair.  The imps were at it again.  "I know it's wrong,"
she thought to herself, "but please get a little closer."  She was praying
they'd walk their fingers over to her snatch.  The fingers continued to tease
her rear cheeks, getting closer and closer while most of the students
participated earnestly in a question and discussion round with the teacher and
the painter.  

Barbara slowly, and with little conscious thought, raised her rear up to give
the devilish fingers a better target.  One of the boys started to notice the nub
of her clitoris poking out for attention.  He walked his fingers over to it and
grazed it ever so lightly with the tip of his index finger.  When Barbara nearly
swooned, he realized he had hit some kind of a "jackpot."  He wanted to get
these noticeable responses from her, but didn't want to get in trouble, so he
rationed the touches to this magic button.  Barbara, imperceptibly at first,
then with increasing boldness, moved her hips side to side and up and down
chasing the teasing digits.  When she noticed some students watching her breasts
swaying, she "oooo'ed" inside her head and tried to concentrate on staying
still.

As the questioning continued, a spirited curly blonde girl enthusiastically
raised her hand, got up when called and sat down on the front edge of the
ottoman and asked with a big smile, "Can you draw me?"

"Sure I can.  Let me give it a try."  The painter said, as the girl took an
exaggerated cutesy pose.

"How about me …?"  Three others said quickly in turn and crowded around in front
of Barbara camping it up for the painter without even getting his okay.  He
smiled however, and began to charcoal sketch the group with his teacher friend
looking on at his work with pride.

Barbara was now basically shielded from the view of most of the students and the
adults.  The boys picked up on this and divided their attentions between the
sensitive area between her legs and her erect extended nipples with relative
impunity.  Barbara welcomed the attention, spread her knees and fought as best
she could to muffle the whimpering building up inside her.  She felt wanton,
reckless, and naughty as she built up steam to a climax.  Trying to figure out
how to let it happen without being detected complicated her efforts at resolving
the sexual build up.  Each idea would be summarily clouded over by a jump to a
new level of sexual tension on the climb to release.  Finally, she could not
hold back any more; the teasing fingers were just too good and persistent for
her to resist any longer … and … a mixed chorus of "let us see," broke out.  The
girls rushed away from in front of her, and stormed the painter's side.  The
boys immediately pulled back and far enough away from their subject to avoid
implication, leaving Barbara to gasp, "Oh God, please don't stop."

Then turning her head behind her to one side, then to the other to see that no
one was within even arms reach of her, she reached between her legs with one
hand, hugged her breasts with her other, and concluded things herself, oblivious
to the audience she now had as she groaned, and squirmed, and squealed to a
humiliating conclusion.

"Well, I never!"  The teacher shouted with disdain.  "Com'on class.  It's time
to leave. … Now!"

The boys smiled at their work as they passed the hooded Barbara, but looked up
innocently at their teacher as they passed her with palms up and shoulders
shrugged on their way out the door.

Barbara huddled her embarrassment into a tight kneeling ball wishing it had all
been a dream she would wake up from as soon as she would open her eyes again.
When the last words between the teacher and the painter were punctuated by the
sound of the closing door, she got back up sitting on her knees upright with her
head back so she could see the painter's expression through the mask.  Her body
glistened from perspiration, her ample breasts hung proudly and moved with her
heavier breathing.  When she saw him smiling, she relaxed a bit waiting for him
to say something.

"Well, that was a new one on me."  He said.  "I've seen many a subject get
turned on by being undressed and having an attentive artist focusing on every
detail of their bodies, but they usually ask me to help them with it rather than
taking matters into their own hands."  He explained.  Barbara covered her
breasts with one forearm and her pubic area demurely with her other hand and
felt bathed in shame at his directness.  "In almost all cases, I have to refuse,
being the professional I am, but if I know the subject personally, I make
exceptions."  He continued as he walked around back to his easel.  "And, if
someone as beautiful as you were to ask me just one or two times more, I'd throw
professionalism to the wind and accommodate her.  Frankly, I'm now a little
disappointed that it is not likely to happen.  But now I have a new idea."  He
said, pulling out his camera. "I can let you go early if you pose sufficiently
for me so I can paint you from photographs."

"Ah, ah …" Was all Barbara could say.

"You are very beautiful sexually charged like you were.  I'd like you to spread
your knees now and do to yourself what those boys were doing to you."

"No, I …"

"Just close your eyes; I can't see them anyway, and touch yourself the way you
were being touched.  It will keep your skin tone up and your body glistening.
Allow yourself the freedom to move into whatever sensual posture your state of
arousal takes you to.  I'm sure I'll have just the right shot to create a
masterpiece for my commission when we are through."  He insisted.

"Oh my god!"  Barbara thought to herself.  "He can't be serious.  It's lewd.
It's not right."  Then she realized, "What is becoming of you?  First you dance
naked in front of a hundred people, go nude in public out in the sun, allow kids
to fiddle with you until you lose control and humiliate yourself in front of
strangers, now you think a special request of an artist's model is beneath you?"
She asked herself.  "Marnie! What have you got me into now? … He still doesn't
know what I look like without this hood.  He's already seen me cum from my own
hand for god's sake.  I can get out of here sooner this way. … Oh gawd; here I
go."  She said silently and moved her hands from being modest coverings into
self-molesting instruments driven by a hidden desire to stretch the limits of
her own arousal.

"Golly." She discovered, "I'm still so sensitive.  I'd better pace myself or
I'll cum again right in front of this stranger."  The occasional masturbating at
home always seemed to her like she was cheating on George; now she was doing it
in front of a stranger who was recording it all on film.  "But it feels so
good."  

"That's it; just forget I'm here." The painter instructed. "You're doing fine. …
That was a good shot. …"  Barbara's eyes were closed.  The flashes were
distracting.  If she had to do this wanton act, she was going to enjoy it. The
painter's words of encouragement faded into the background as her trained
fingers brought her arousal to the forefront. She spread her knees further
apart; she rolled her head; she switched hands; she put both hands on her
breasts; she put both hands to work on her cunt; she did every combination to
continue the build up, but to keep her arousal under control.

"Gawd.  How long is he going to keep taking pictures?"  She thought as the
tension was getting to feel out of her control.  It was all just too much for
the ordinarily straight laced homemaker, the humiliation, the stimulation, the
embarrassment of being watched and photographed in this intimate act … "I'm
going to go for it again."  She resolved.

"Yes, yesss, yes, oh-my-god.  Ooooo …"

"There, I think we've got just what we need."  He declared, taking her hand from
her cunt in his as if to gallantly help her up from the ottoman.

"No.  You can't mean … I … We, we can't be done.  We can't be done already."
Barbara asked with desperation, her body covered in sweat, her chest heaving
with each deep breath.

"Yes, that's it.  You've been great.  I really mean that.  You are an
exceptionally beautiful model, you followed direction well, and you have been
very responsive to the needs of this assignment.  I really appreciate the job
you did."  He praised.

Now she was too embarrassed to jump back in and finish the job she had just set
out to do.  Then as if she was hearing someone else speaking beside herself,
"Did you like what I did enough to show a little appreciation?"

"What do you mean?"  He said, now holding both of her hands in front of her, as
if he didn't know what she meant.

"You know, like the others,  … the ones you knew personally."  She said demurely
being forced to look down at his rising trousers due to the hooded mask.  "Oh
god.  What am I saying?  What am I doing?"  She lamented to herself.

"I already told you, I don't take advantage of my models that way."  He said.

"Not even if I ask nicely a second time?"  Barbara said, her heart pounding
loudly in her head as she brazenly cupped the rising bulge in his trousers.

"I think it is time for me to show you my appreciation."  He relented.

* * * * *

"Marnie, I've got to come over and talk to you right now. … No, Brenda's not
here."  Barbara told her best friend over the phone. … "Thank you.  I'll be
right over.

When Marnie answered the door, Barbara was shaking, tears rolling down her
cheeks, and wringing her hands.  "Barb, what is it?  Come in.  Let's sit in
here."

"Oh Marnie.  I've done a terrible thing." Barbara confessed.

"What you? What would you have done that could be so terrible?"  Marnie asked.

"I cheated on George just now."

"Yeah, I've been with you when we've …"

"No, this time I asked for it.  I couldn't help myself.  I've been so sexed up
since we've been hooked up with that Larcher, I needed it so bad, I asked a
stranger to help me … you know with. …"

"Yes, believe me Barb, I know."  Marnie assured her.


Comments welcomed: spunknwagnels@bigfoot.com

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