Tracey the life model

[jardam1]

Tracey the life model

The headmaster Miss Robinson was droning on as usual to the staff and Tracey Smith, the school's newest teacher, had already switched off as she burbled on about what she called 'the new interactive approach to education' that she told them 'this school has decided to adopt as its philosophy.' Tracey knew that Eastfield High had a reputation as being rather wacky but as a young and newly qualified teacher she felt too inexperienced to complain and too embarrassed to admit that she didn't know quite what she was talking about.

'So,' she said, 'there are fifteen of you present at this staff meeting today. We are proposing that each one of you adopts the interactive approach to teaching in your classes from now on. You will make sure that the students fully understand every aspect of tuition through practical demonstration.'

At 22 years old Tracey felt very nervous and she was also by nature quite a shy person. She had no idea what he meant but of course she knew she'd have to go along with it.

'Tracey,' said Miss Robinson.

'Yes, ma'am?' she answered, suddenly returning to consciousness.

'In the spirit of our school philosophy I'd like you to be a model for the life drawing class.'

Tracey stared at herin disbelief, thinking she hadn't heard right.

'Excuse me, ma'am? You want me to be - well, naked - in front of the pupils?'

'Yes, that's right, Tracey. I'm sure you'll make an excellent model.'

Tracey's heart sank at the prospect of having to expose her naked body in front of the kids. She wanted to refuse or even complain about what she asked her to do but she was too inexperienced, nervous and vulnerable to put up a fight.

'If you'd like me to do that of course I will, ma'am,' she said reluctantly.

'Good. Now this afternoon report to Mr Paynter's class - appropriate name for an art teacher! - and tell him you'll be the model for the afternoon lesson.'

'Yes, ma'am.

She got through the morning lesson without any hitches and then, after lunch, she went off to the art studio and saw the teacher. Screwing up her courage, she approached him.

'Mr Paynter?'

'That's me,' he grinned. 'Are you the new life model?'

'In a way. The head asked me to model this morning. But I'm actually a new teacher here - Tracey Smith.'

'Oh, hi, Tracey. Jim Paynter. Pleased to meet you. The class will be arriving in about five minutes. I'm just finishing setting everything up.'

Tracey looked at him slightly embarrassed.

'I've never done this before,' she said. 'What sort of - pose, they call it, don't they? - do you want me to adopt?'

Jim looked at her sympathetically.

'It's typical of the old bugger to get you to volunteer. If my regular model hadn't pulled out at the last minute this would never have happened. But if you feel uncomfortable I can always just cancel the class.'

Tracey felt guilty and reluctantly agreed.

'No, no, it's fine,' she said. 'I'll do it. How old are the pupils in the class?'

'Sixteen, I'm afraid; their hormones will be racing away when they see you. On a more personal note, would you mind if we had a drink together when school finishes?'

Tracey was surprised but pleasantly so.

'Yes, I'd like that very much, Jim. Thanks for asking me.'

'If you'd just sit down and wait till the class comes in and then I'll ask you to strip. Today I want them not just to draw you nude but to do two pictures one showing the act of stripping naked and the other one of you fully nude. If that's OK with you, of course.'

'Yes, that will be fine,' Tracey said.

She wasn't at all keen on the idea but the last thing she wanted was to upset the head and Jim Paynter seemed a really nice guy so what the hell?

Then the classroom door opened and twenty pupils came in - ten boys, ten girls. All of them gazed curiously at Tracey but none of them knew her.

'Right, class,' said Jim, 'our regular model couldn't make it today so we've got a replacement. Now let's begin by asking our model to take up the pose I want you to paint. As you know, today there will be two parts to the lesson. In the first I want you to paint the model as she's stripping and in the second when she is fully nude. That way we can capture both elements of the process for an artist and his or her model.'

He turned to Tracey and began to instruct her.

'Stretch out your left arm behind your head and place your right arm on your knee.'

Tracey did as he told her.

'Right, make a preliminary sketch of the model in that position,' he told them. 'Then we'll move on to the action part of the process.'

'I'd like to see some action with this one!' one of the boys in the class said enthusiastically. 'Even with her clothes on I can see she's got great tits and a nice arse too!'

Tracey blushed but knew she'd have to put up with being on the receiving end of ribald comments.

'OK, that's fine,' said Jim after a few minutes. 'Right, take off your shoes.'

Tracey looked startled but obeyed his words.

After she'd removed her shoes and felt the sudden coldness of the classroom floor against her feet Tracey waited for the inevitable progress of her strip-tease.

'Right, take off your skirt, please,' said Jim. 'Nice and slow, please. Don't rush things.'

Feeling increasingly embarrassed Tracey slowly unzipped her skirt and it fell to the ground at her feet.

'Now step out of the skirt.'

Tracey moved away and tried to pretend she wasn't really about to take off all her clothes in front of a group of 16-year old pupils at her own school.

'Right, that's good,' said Jim. 'Now show the students your arse.'

For a moment Tracey was indignant and about to refuse when she remembered the position she was in. Reluctantly but trying not to show her lack of enthusiasm she bent over and showed them her large arse which at present was still covered by her black knickers.

'Nice knickers!' said one of the girls, giggling.

Jim ignored that comment and gave further instructions to Tracey.

'I meant for you to show the class your bare arse,' he said mildly. 'Lower those knickers properly, please, so that the students can get a good look at your arse.'

Tracey was mortified but forced herself to lower her knickers until her arse was on display. The pupils stared with open fascination at her large rear end.

'That's what I call an arse!' one of the boys said. 'Big and beautiful!'

'I think it's a fat slag's arse myself,' one of the girls sniffed.

'Now take your knickers off completely, please,' said Jim.

Tracey removed her knickers and stepped out of them. The class gazed at her in fascination as they saw the lower half of her body exposed. Even though she was facing away from them so they could only see her bum they were clearly enjoying the view.

'Right, now take off your bra, Tracey. You can keep your blouse on for the time being.'

Tracey began to unclasp her bra and remove it. She let it drop on the floor with the rest of her clothing.

'Good,' said Jim. 'Sometimes in these situations it's more erotic when a vestige of clothing is left than when the model is completely naked.'

Tracey's short and thin blouse didn't even reach her arse and cunt and she felt dreadfully exposed. Jim then gave her more instructions.

'Reach up and stretch your arms out to the sky,' he said.

Tracey did so knowing that she was giving her pupils an excellent view of her cunt and arse and also partly exposing the bottom part of her tits. Loud appreciative laughter and obscene comments followed her display.

'Now undo a couple of buttons on your blouse,' said Jim.

Reluctantly Tracey began to undo them. The pupils gazed in fascination at her humiliating strip tease.

'Right, now take off your blouse completely,' he told her.

The last vestige of clothing and modesty went at last as Tracey, fighting back tears, removed her blouse and placed it on the floor with the rest of her clothing.

Tracey was now completely naked and exposed in full view of all the pupils. She felt mortified and the only slight saving grace was that at present she was only presenting the rear view of herself to the class. Tracey knew that wouldn't last long and she waited nervously for Jim's final command.

'Turn around,' he told her, 'but cover your tits and cunt with your arms and hands.'

Tracey was grateful for that small mercy and hoped he would allow her to remain that way. The pupils gazed at her now exposed nakedness and made all kinds of lewd and insulting comments.

'Love those fucking tits!' said a boy.

'They're just fat flabby hunks of lard!' a girl retorted dismissively.

While most eyes had been on Tracey's strip tease one of the boys had been watching the pile of clothes she'd shed on to the floor. Suddenly he made a move and grabbed them before rushing out of the classroom with them in his hand.

'Hey, what the hell?' Tracey gasped. 'What are you doing with my clothes?'

Jim looked at the rest of the class and wagged his finger at them.

'Don't let's have any more of that sort of nonsense,' he said sternly. 'I'll retrieve your clothes and make sure that the boy who took them is punished.'

But all the pupils were laughing and giggling.

'Right, that's enough of the action pose,' said Jim. 'Have any of you actually drawn anything?'

None of them had of course but they'd all been busy taking as many pictures on their camera phones as possible. Jim gave them disapproving looks.

'This is a life drawing lesson, not a peepshow!' he said sternly. 'Well, let's see if you manage to do any better now that our model is naked.'

The pupils gazed in fascination at her large arse and big tits.

'Look at that arse!' one of the boys said. 'I'd love to fuck that!'

Tracey blushed as they continued with their 'assessment' of her.

'Great fucking tits!' said another boy.

'If you like them fat and flabby,' a flat-chested girl retorted.

'Can we see some action poses?' a boy asked hopefully. 'Like running on the spot or something?'

'I suppose so,' said Mr Paynter. 'Please do some on the spot jogging for us.'

Tracey did as she was told, mortified and panting with the effort. Her large tits jiggled as she jogged and her large arse bounced as she made the humiliating maneouvres.

Again she noticed with a cold fury that most of the pupils were simply taking photos of her in action rather than even trying to paint or draw her.

'Funny to see those fat tits and big arse of hers jogging up and down!' a girl sniggered.

At that point the door opened and the headmistress came in with two sets of parents.

'Ah, Mr Paynter, I'm sorry to disturb you,' said Miss Robinson. 'These are two prospective parents and they were extremely interested in our art facilities. As you can see,' she said quickly, 'Mr Paynter is conducting a life class at the moment and we've had to ask one of our new teachers to - volunteer as the model in the absence of our - regular sitter.'

The two husbands were gazing at the naked and exposed Tracey in fascination. Their wives gave her far more hostile looks.

'You mean you'd allow one of your teachers to behave like - like this?' asked one angrily.

'Like a depraved slut,' said the other wife.

'Well, it was an emergency,' said Miss Robinson apologetically. 'Of course normally we hire a model but she's ill at the moment and Miss Smith kindly agreed to step in. She wasn't enthusiastic about the idea but I asked her if she'd do it in the interests of the school and she reluctantly agreed. Showing the true spirit of a teacher and of course exemplifying our philosophy of interactive education in the most - practical and overt - manner.'

'That's one way of describing it,' said the first wife. 'She just looks like a bimbo tart to me!'

'Probably IS a bimbo tart,' said the other.

Tracey fumed in silence and held her tongue in spite of an almost irresistible desire to retort.

'Well, since she's gone - this far - in the service of - artistic expression, perhaps we should get her to adopt a few - artistic poses,' suggested the first husband.

'Great idea!' said the second husband. 'What did you have in mind?'

'What about - the rape of the Sabine Women?' the first husband suggested, greatly daring.

The other husband laughed out loud.

'Love it!' he said enthusiastically. 'Let's make her do it!'

Tracey was just about to protest about 'taking realism too far' when the infuriated wives came to her rescue.

'I don't think so,' said the first one. 'I'm keeping my eye on you!' she added, giving a furious glance at her husband.

'The slut would probably enjoy it too much anyway,' said the second. 'But I've got a better idea.'

'What's that?' the first wife asked curiously.

'She could demonstrate some aspects of sex education but without actually having sex,' she grinned.

To Tracey's relief Miss Robinson intervened at that point.

'That would not be appropriate and in any event this is a life class in art. The model is supposed to be painted or drawn and she should be in a stationary position. Now, ladies and gentlemen, perhaps you would like to see some other aspects of our school.'

She led the parents away from the class and Tracey managed to control a strong desire to run out of the room and hide. But her ordeal was far from over. Somehow Mr. Paynter managed to restore order and the students actually began to draw and paint pictures of the nude Tracey, mercifully allowed to sit down on a chair so that at least she could cover up some of her naked flesh.

But when the class finished Tracey still had the problem that her clothes had been stolen. Helplessly she turned to Mr. Paynter for help but he could do nothing.

'Sorry, Tracey, I can't help with women's clothing. Maybe you should go to Miss Robinson and ask her if she can find you some spare clothes?'

Tracey, fuming, made her way into the corridor but had only gone a couple of yards before the student who had rushed out of the art class with her clothes stood directly in front of her, a big grin on his face.

'Show us your cunt, Miss Smith!' he said crudely.

'I beg your pardon? I'm not doing that!'

'Not even if you want to get your clothes back?'

'Do you know where they are?'

'Of course I do. I was the one that nicked them in the first place!'

'Well, please, can you give them back to me and I'll say no more about it.'

He laughed when Tracey said that.

'I made out they were lost property and took them to the caretaker's office. You'll have to go there to get them back.'

'But that's over the other side of the school! I'd have to go right through the main building, out through the playing fields and on to his hut. Couldn't you get them for me? Please?'

The boy looked at her with a big grin on his face.

'What's in it for me? What are you ready to offer me in return?'

Tracey gasped at the boy's cheek.

'Look, if you hadn't stolen my clothes in the first place I wouldn't be in this position! Now just go and fetch my clothes back and I'll say no more about it.'

'No can do, Miss Smith. Still, your funeral.'

Then he walked away and Tracey realised that she now had no option except to walk naked through the school till she got to the caretaker's office.

At the last minute she took a frantic glance around the art room and saw a cloth that was spattered with paint. It's better than walking out there naked, Tracey thought reluctantly. She wrapped the cloth around her and began walking.

As luck would have it the caretaker's hut was unlocked and empty. Tracey began frantically rummaging through the place in search of her missing clothes.

As her search grew more and more desperate she found herself using both hands and then, without warning, the cloth fell away from her, revealing Tracey in all her naked loveliness.

At that very moment the caretaker returned to his hut. Tracey had his back to him but he could see at once that she was naked and rummaging through his office.

'What do you think you're doing, Miss?' his voice almost thundered in her ears.

Tracey, in spite of her shock, had the presence of mind to grab the cloth and try to wrap it around her. Her heart sank as she saw Miss Robinson entering the caretaker's hut.

She glared at Tracey, still holding the cloth against her breasts and trying to cover up as best as she coudl.

'Well, Tracey, what the hell do you think you're doing?'

'Looking for my clothes,' she blurted out. 'The boy who took them told me they were in the caretaker's hut.'

'We'll talk about this later,' Miss Robinson said in a stern voice. 'In the meantime, hand over that paint-stained cloth to the caretaker. He can return it to the art room later.'

'But what about my clothes?' Tracey pleaded.

'Just do as you're told, Tracey!'

Reluctantly, Tracey handed over the paint-soaked cloth and stood before the caretaker and headmistress completely naked. The man gave an appreciative glance at her body, beginning with her breasts and then moving downwards. As Tracey became aware that his gaze had reached her cunt she tried to cover it with her hands.

'Please, Miss Robinson,' Tracey said desperately, 'please let me have my clothes.'

She turned to the caretaker.

'Have you seen them?'

'Yes, ma'am, a boy handed them in earlier. I locked them in my desk for safe keeping.'

'I see. Well, I will collect them later. In the meantime you, Tracey, will come with me. I'm sorry for the inconvenience she has caused you.'

Poor Tracey had no choice but to leave the hut completely naked, the headmistress taking her by the arm and leading her out across the playing fields. Tracey had to follow her all through the main corridor of the school and an excited crowd of pupils gathered to watch the disgraced teacher parade naked in front of them.

It was almost with a sense of relief that Tracey found herself in the headmistress' office. A glaring Miss Robinson sat down and shook her head in disbelief.

'What the hell happened there?'

'Like I said, ma'am, a boy stole my clothes while I was posing as a life model in the art class.'

'Well, it's simply not good enough. You must learn to be in control of your pupils, Tracey, or you won't last five minutes as a teacher.'

'I'm very sorry, ma'am.'

'No doubt you are. But you've disgraced yourself and embarrassed me and the school. In the circumstances I feel I have no alternative. Bend over that chair in front of my desk!'

'Ma'am?' Tracey pleaded.

'Just do it!'

Tracey reluctantly draped her bare arse over the chair.

'I am now going to give you twelve strokes of the cane. If you hadn't hesitated when I told you to bend over the first time I would have contented myself with six. In future jump to it when I give you an order.'

'Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am.'

'Now I shal expect you to count each stroke and to thank me after you receive each one.'

'Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am.'

So the luckless Tracey had to endure twelve hard strokes of the cane on her bare arse.

After the headmistress had finished she rang the caretaker and told him to bring back Tracey's clothes. In spite of her sore arse she was delighted to be able to get dressed once more!

[Belinda]

Wonderful story. You have great talent. Thank you so much for sharing it.

[s4dmaster]

eheh that teacher is going to have a tough life at that school

[Fixitman8267]

Good story. I think the headmistress should have made Tracey stay naked for the rest of the day (she is the life model after all). She can get her clothes back in the morning.