Art Project
10
Exhibition
“THE COUNTDOWN has begun,” Zen said as she faced her webcam. “I promised something truly unique tonight and you have to participate to make it happen. We need 2,500 tokens to get it started. We’d like to start the show in thirty minutes so there is still light in the window. You’ll want to see our Dolly silhouetted in the window before the artist arrives.”
Her computer chimed and a message popped up on screen.
RagsToRiches just tipped Zen 150 tokens: Come on, guys. I’ve been looking forward to this since Zen started talking about it a month ago!
“Thanks, Rags. You’re so sweet,” Zen said. “Don’t wait for a big tipper to close the door. Tonight is pay to play. You have to tip fifty tokens to stay in the room when the show starts. Not negotiable. You guys who aren’t premium members yet should rush over to your account page and buy some tokens so you can stay with us tonight.”
There were three chimes in a row as 50 token donations came in.
“Thanks, Gently. Toy, I knew you’d be here. Welcome, DeepPlumber. I don’t think I’ve seen you before. I’m glad you’ve joined us. Where are you from?”
Text messages started scrolling across the screen and the tippers and chatroom attendees welcomed each other and introduced themselves. A list of premium members appeared on the right side of the screen and kept being added to. When I saw that there were over 500 people in the room, I shoved my tablet at Annette and went to go throw up in Zen’s bathroom. I closed the door so I wouldn’t be heard, but Morgan pushed in behind me.
“It’s okay, Pen. I love you and it will be all right.”
“So many people!” I said. “I can’t…”
“No, honey. There are only the six of us. You’ve drawn our nipples—even Zen’s. They are perky, aren’t they?”
“But 500!”
“They don’t really exist, honey. I think that bot that the site uses makes up the numbers so people are encouraged to get in. Zen said there wouldn’t be more than 50 watching the actual posing, and you won’t see or hear any of them. During most of the posing, Zen will be talking as if she were alone in the room. You don’t have to think about anyone but Susan,” Morgan said.
“You really want me to touch her?” I asked, still uncertain of what I was doing.
“If the option was on the table, I think I’d want to watch you fuck her,” Morgan breathed. “Feel how wet I am from just thinking about her being your little art model doll.” She pulled my hand up under her skirt and I discovered she wasn’t wearing panties. “Kendra and I decided we might need emergency access to our pussies while you do the posing.”
“Annette?”
“Believe me, if you can draw one-handed, the other will be busy with her.”
I washed up and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash. Morgan adjusted my mask. And my cock. I was dressed all in black with a blousy silk shirt that was unbuttoned half way down my chest. The mask was like a headscarf that covered all the top of my head and tied in back with slits across my eyes big enough for me to see clearly. Think Westley in The Princess Bride.
We entered the big room again in time to hear the tip chime ring again.
“Yay! That put us over the top, BigTeaser! You rock! What that means is that we are about to start the show. In five minutes, I’ll bring in Dolly and place her in front of the windows so you can get a good look at her. In ten minutes, Robert Robot will close the room to anyone who has not tipped at least 50 tokens today. So, you still have time to join us. LadyLove! I’m so glad you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it. I’ll be muting the tip chime during the performance, but you’ll still be able to see messages and talk on the chat board while Dolly gets posed. I’ll try to respond quietly to messages while they work. Pony-up if you want to stay with us. I have to go get our Dolly model for Sketch, the artist.”
With that, Zen stepped into the next room to get Susan.
“What?” we heard Susan exclaim. “You didn’t say blindfolded! How am I supposed to see you?”
“You won’t,” Zen said. “You won’t see me or Sketch or the other artists and assistants. You won’t see the camera or any of the comments that come on the screen.” She led a blindfolded Susan in front of the window. She was backlit against the sheer curtains that covered the window so the exterior was indistinct. They’d chosen to keep with the Princess Bride theme and Susan wore a red ensemble. Of course, Zen had made alterations in the pattern. It was made of a nearly transparent silk that draped her body and showed her shape clearly against the backlit window. Zen continued to torment Susan with her words.
“When you are being posed, you’ll never know for sure if it is Sketch or me touching your pretty body. You are our Dolly to play with as we see fit. We might send one of the assistants over to hold your tits up or to see if you are getting turned on. Lady might come over to punish you if you start to get distracted. I might even have one of my regulars waiting downstairs to help out. You’ll just never know, will you?”
“Zen? Are… I’m… I love you.”
“Trust us my little Dolly. Now stand here like a good model and wait. We’re almost ready.” Zen moved to her computer and began talking to her fans. The chime had been turned off, but we could see the message flashes on screen as more guys—and apparently a bunch of other cam models—tipped to get access to the private show that was coming. “Isn’t she beautiful? She is just going to stand there quietly for five minutes to give the rest of you time to buy into the show. Robert Robot is controlling the clock and logging people in to the private show. If you haven’t tipped in, you’ll be locked out when the clock strikes zero.”
I wanted to go straight to Susan and comfort her. I could see her shaking and I was, too. I knew I’d have a mask on, but I didn’t know she’d be blindfolded. Annette rubbed my shoulders and Morgan came to whisper in my ear.
“You know how Susan’s aura has always been tightly contained when you worked with her unless Zen was in the room? Then it was like a connection between the two of them. With her blindfolded, her aura is going crazy. Sparks are shooting off in every direction. Kendra and I are going to have a blast trying to sculpt this. It’s so beautiful. I know you’ll see your own special interpretation of it. Remember that the first twenty minutes is strictly posing her and re-posing her. Try a few of the poses we’ve already done before you move to the one you want to paint today. Pen. this is so exciting. We love you.”
I relaxed. Annette kissed my ear and made sure my mask was on correctly. Zen motioned me to begin my approach.
“Last chance,” Zen said to her audience. “Sketch has entered the picture. He’s seen his model waiting patiently. He circles her, contemplating positions he would like to see her in. Perhaps positions he would like to take her in. He pulls the drapery closed, isolating her from the world, and isolating we who are voyeurs as well.” There was a buzz from her computer as I pulled the drapes closed. Zen had lights ready to turn on and the other cameras in the room came to life. “Thank you for joining us for this little show. You’ll notice that the screen now has the ‘Private Show’ icon lit in the lower left corner. For some of you, this is the first private show you’ve been invited to. Let me remind you that we keep explicit sex comments off the screen. I like to talk sexy with you, but only through private tip messages, not for the room at large. I’m going to switch to the high res cameras now and you might want to open the window to full screen as we watch this live drama. Love you guys. Enjoy.”
The lights switched and Zen started working on her computer as Kendra and Morgan started working with the clay. I glanced at Annette. Unlike Kendra and Morgan, Annette was dressed more like Zen. She wore some kind of complicated one-piece that covered her breasts and pussy and had a lot of black cords that crisscrossed between the two pieces. I almost abandoned Susan except for the catch in her breath and whisper.
“Do you want me to undress now, sir?” she asked.
“No. I will take care of that when the time comes,” I whispered. “May I touch you?”
“Yes. Please. Anywhere.”
I lifted my hand and stroked her cheek, tilting her chin up to catch the light better.
“You tremble,” I said. “Amazing. It is almost like you were a live girl.”
“I… live? I’m…”
“When I ordered an artist’s Dolly from New York, I had no idea she would be so lifelike.” I lifted her hand and she held it where I posed her. “So pliable and positionable. So much fun to be had.” I shifted her position so she faced the window but had her head turned back toward me. She simply let me move her and stayed in place wherever I put her. Now that I had my two memorized lines out of the way, I could focus on just enjoying the art of positioning a model.
“I like the fabric they dressed you in,” I said as I ran my hand down her side to her hip. “It drapes nicely. Let’s see how it works around your shoulders.” I carefully lifted the blousy fabric away from her neck and loosened it enough to pull down and bare her shoulders. I gave her one of the hanging strips of fabric to hold onto while I positioned the drapery. I knew Zen and Annette were moving around with still cameras and occasionally adjusting focus on the three video cameras. I could hear the occasional click of the cameras. I was going to use some of those photos. With Susan’s shoulders exposed and her head thrown back as if to look at me, I wanted to go do a sketch right then. But, of course, this part was about posing, not about drawing. I stepped back to give the cameras a clear view and then moved to the next of the poses I’d thought of.
I gradually lost touch with the low hum going on behind me. It was just Susan and me. I turned her toward my easel and let the fabric of her top drop to her waist, then I pulled the left side back to her shoulder, covering her left breast. I slid my hand over the right breast and she sucked in a lungful of air before she relaxed again. She hadn’t let go of the drapery when I turned her, so it was wrapped around her wrists. I pulled it once around her waist and up in back over her head like a cowl. In this position, I unfastened the skirt and it fell to her ankles. Her breath shuddered. The drape I’d wrapped kept her privates covered, but I don’t think she knew that.
I was beginning to really appreciate Zen’s idea of blindfolding Susan. Deprived of her sight, she never knew exactly where I was or what I was going to do next. She couldn’t tell if I was alone or if we were all gathered around her. She got a clue when I turned her again toward the window, wrapping the fabric more. Zen approached quietly to stand beside me. I pushed the drape down in back, letting it expose her right buttock as I petted it. At the same time, Zen ran her hand up the front of Susan’s torso and cupped her breast. I suppose I could have been doing that from my position, but Susan was shifting her head left and right, trying to sense who was touching her. While I still held her right butt cheek in my right hand, I used my left to capture her chin and lift it up and to her left. There could be no doubt now that with three hands on her, there had to be at least two people. Perhaps three. I let my left hand slide lightly down her throat and leaned forward to blow in her ear.
“Ohh!” she moaned. “Sketch… sir. Um… who…?” I shifted slightly so I was just behind her right ear.
“Such a good Dolly,” I whispered. “Posing just like I want her. So soft. So sexy. So fragrant.” Susan moaned again. Zen smiled at me and retreated to let me continue. This was really fun.
I whipped all the fabric off her and pulled the blouse fabric down so it, too, fell to the floor at her feet. For a few moments, she was completely naked and exposed as I turned her toward the front again. I wasn’t sure what the unseen audience could see, but there were three cameras and I knew Zen was back to manipulating the image onscreen. Annette moved up next to me with her digital camera and began shooting stills.
I had a brief moment of insane jealousy when I realized the audience was seeing my girlfriend—one of them—in an outfit that made me painfully aware of my own erection. I had to shift things around, but realized that the bikini my Lady wore when we went swimming last summer covered as much as this outfit did. Of course, she didn’t wear it with five-inch stiletto heels. And a mask. I heard Zen’s camera from behind me and that only confused Susan more. I took Annette’s hand and guided it to Susan’s bottom, then in a smooth arc up to Susan’s throat and then down to her left breast.
I positioned Susan’s left hand raised it to grasp one of the drapes. Then I pulled the fabric around her and covered one breast, then pulled it up between her legs. Annette backed away. Susan was trembling all over. Even I could sense the energy shooting like sparks off our Dolly, though I couldn’t really see the aura the way Morgan could. I ran my hand up the inside of Susan’s leg and was certain she would collapse.
“P… Please…” she begged as I cupped her mound. I simply kept moving.
I stepped away so Annette and Zen could move in and snap pictures from every angle. I was glad I would have reference photos because I really liked this pose and even though I didn’t like sketching and painting from photos, they would help me remember what the trembling girl looked like when I sketched from memory.
I moved in again and started putting her in the position that I would actually sketch. With her right hand still in the air, I wrapped the silky fabric around her arm several times and then draped it down her front, between her breasts to her navel and then back up to her left shoulder. I positioned her left arm outstretched toward where I would sketch and wrapped the fabric once around it, then beneath her buttocks and around her thighs. I kept it low enough and loose enough that both her breasts and her pussy were exposed. Passing the fabric back through the loop, I wrapped her left leg and pulled it forward to place her foot on a small stool. I wrapped the fabric around her leg and draped the stool so it wouldn’t be visible. It was almost perfect and I took a moment to simply caress her right leg before I stood back. Again, I made a couple adjustments, including moving the drape to cover her right breast.
Zen stepped up beside me and her panting girlfriend again. This time, I noticed Zen was naked as well. She took my hand, much as I had taken Annette’s a few minutes before. I let Zen control me, almost as if I was her Dolly just as Susan was mine. Zen put my hand on Susan’s face so I could tilt it to the position I wanted, and then shifted it to her left breast. She used my fingers to pinch Susan’s nipple, eliciting yet another deep moan. Zen pushed my hand down to Susan’s pussy again, but this time guided my fingers into the very wet folds of her sex, stroking Susan’s clit.
Susan cried out as Annette snapped more photos. Our Dolly climaxed, throwing her head back farther and letting the moan turn to a whine as she came.
“Hold that pose, little Dolly. It is time to draw you.”
I retreated to my easel and tried unsuccessfully to ease the pressure on my cock as I started drawing. I was unsuccessful because Annette knelt at my side and stroked my erection as I drew. I knew that I would come soon, too.
We could hear Zen talking to her chatroom now, conducting the auction of the drawing I was making.
“High tip in this session will win the drawing that Sketch is making,” Zen said softly. “Robert Robot is controlling the time. You have twenty minutes to get to the top tip before Robert cuts it off. I don’t have control over this, so I can’t hold the bidding open any extra to allow another bid and I can’t cut it off to decide who wins. Thank you to Zen’s Velvet Hammer. You are currently high at 2,516 tokens. Even if Sketch hasn’t finished the drawing in the twenty minutes, that’s when the bidding will stop. Rest assured, he will finish it before it is sent to you. Sketch isn’t just an actor. He is a fine artist and has even drawn these sweet boobs you like me to play with for you. There are no other counts during this time, but you are welcome to tip the artist and model even if you aren’t in the race for high bid. Look at how this drawing is coming,” she said, pushing a camera over my shoulder as I sketched. “You will not only have seen a beautiful performance, you will get a beautiful piece of fine art. Isn’t she gorgeous?” Zen moved the camera and panned back to Susan.
How Susan was managing to hold the pose when she was so obviously still recovering from her orgasm is beyond me. I was sure that if we hadn’t tied the fabric so well, she would have collapsed.
We were about ten minutes into the drawing and auction when I saw her start to relax. I couldn’t have that. It would ruin the pose. I stood and approached our Dolly.
“I think we need to uncover this right tit,” I whispered. “You should have everything exposed to all the eyes watching you, shouldn’t you, Dolly?” I didn’t touch her at all at first. I used the end of my pencil to lift the fabric and expose her right nipple. I blew on it a little to make it perk up and Susan was back in the zone. I couldn’t resist. I reached between her legs and caressed her clit again.
“Oh, my god! Oh!” she cried out.
“Hold that pose now, little Dolly. You’ll get a nice reward.” I stroked my finger across her lips, leaving them glistening with her own juices. I returned to the drawing.
“The time is now, my loyal friends,” Zen said from in front of her computer. “High tip is currently 3,750 tokens. We are counting down from ten seconds. Nine. Eight. Seven.” She continued. I just blocked her out and focused on the drawing. I’d be able to put some finishing touches on it before it went to the winner, but I was pretty pleased with where it was. I knew Zen still had one of the cameras focused on the easel so people could see what they were bidding on.
“Wow! I don’t believe you guys! Who…? Wait! I don’t know. Robert Robot is tabulating the results. They went past so fast in the last five seconds that I couldn’t keep up. And in fairness, just today, if your tip missed the deadline when Robert cut off the bidding, it wasn’t deducted from your account. If you re-tip now, it won’t go toward the auction, but the artist and model will greatly appreciate it. I just can’t even believe this.”
I shut her out and rushed to Susan. Zen was trapped in having to deal with the bidding and couldn’t tend to her lover. Annette was with me and as I held the gasping girl, Annette unwound the fabric from her body. Susan collapsed in my arms and I carried her to the bed. Annette untied a strip of the fabric and when I laid Susan down, my Lady draped the fabric in swirls on top of her. As soon as it was covered, I moved my hand to Susan’s pussy again and diddled her clit until she arched her back and came hard.
“I told you, good little Dollys get a reward,” I whispered. Susan reached up and dragged my head down so she could kiss me.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. Oh god! Thank you!”
Annette and Morgan grabbed my arms and pushed me into the bathroom. They jerked my pants down around my knees and had a tongue battle over my cock. After the tension I’d built up over the past hour, it didn’t take long before I was moaning while they fought over my come. As long as I live, I will never get used to the feeling of my girlfriends sucking my cock. A high-pitched whine pulled my attention from my girlfriends to the edge of the bathtub where Kendra had her skirt up around her waist and her fingers flashing on her pussy. Annette and Morgan joined the mass orgasm with their fingers in each other.
“I’m sorry,” Kendra panted. “It was just so hot! I didn’t realize what you were doing when we all rushed into the bathroom. I thought we were just clearing out of the room so Zen could finish up her broadcast and her girlfriend. Then… When you… I couldn’t help myself. I just… you know.”
“God, do we know, girlfriend,” Morgan said. “Do you need more help with that?” Kendra was still sitting on the edge of the tub with her legs splayed open and her finger making lazy circles on her clit as she came down from her self-induced orgasm.
“Huh? Oh! I suppose I should quit flashing my pussy at your boyfriend, shouldn’t I.” She pulled her fingers away and pulled her skirt down, but her actions were in slow motion. She seemed to keep her pussy lips spread for as long as possible. I couldn’t tear my eyes away until I felt Morgan suck me into her mouth again.
“Can we hold this until we get home to bed?” she asked. “Or do you need to watch Kendra’s pussy while you come again?”
“Um… No… I… Later?”
“Over and over again,” Annette said. “I don’t think any of us anticipated how intense this day was going to be.” There was a knock on the door.
“We’re offline now,” Zen said. “And my Dolly and I are temporarily sated. You can come out now.” I tucked myself into my jeans and noticed Kendra hadn’t stopped looking at my cock any more than I’d been able to tear my eyes away from her pussy. When we all had our clothes back in place, we opened the door. Zen and Susan had robes on, so the sexual temperature of the room was coming down.
“You guys are so awesome!” Susan said. “I had no idea who was touching me when or who made me come, except I’m sure that last one was compliments of the artist. I’m exhausted.”
“You were on for a long time,” I said.
“Turned on.”
“Robert hasn’t delivered the final results yet,” Zen said. “My stupid guys jammed the system in the last five seconds, trying to guess the final bid and get it in. The number Robert flashed at me as I was signing off was 12,256 tokens.”
“How much is that in money?” I asked.
“At a nickel a token, that’s $612.80.”
“We made $600 for the drawing?” I said. I’d never really tried to sell any of my art before. I hadn’t even considered it.
“That was the high bid. There were at least eight others that were over 5,000 tokens. Plus earlier bids. Then we had the 250 premium members who paid for a ticket. That’s $625 by itself. When I get that much for a private show, I usually have to stuff in a butt plug and fuck myself with an oversized dildo for half an hour. Robert will give me a final accounting in email, including the names and contact info for the bidders so I can thank each of them. I estimate that we collectively made over $5,000 today.”
“Wow! That’s great,” Morgan said. “Is there a way we can capitalize on this, Zen? It must have helped your monthly standing.”
“Yeah. I’ve got a couple of ideas. I’ll re-edit the tape and I’m betting a lot of my members will pay $20 for a copy. Of course, Art and Susan are the principals, so we need to work out the split. What would you think about doing a limited edition print of the final sketch? I feel bad about the guys who bid so much at the end and didn’t get anything. I’d like to give them a copy. Then we could sell the remainder, signed and numbered, for about $100 each.”
“Not too big an edition,” Morgan said, putting on her art management hat. “Also, Art and I talked about this. Those who buy will get the information and catalog for Art’s spring show and we can include the prints and original painting in it. His role in the movie is anonymous, but the artwork has to bear his signature. We talked to Dad and he deems the role to be low-risk for Art’s reputation.”
“I’d be willing to dedicate a page of my website to his catalog for a percentage,” Zen said. The conversation lost me. When five girls start talking together, it’s better just to tune them out and do whatever they say. I started to put away my art supplies and examine my drawing. It was good. It started to soak in that someone had paid over $600 for it. I felt the hand on my shoulder before I knew Susan was standing beside me.
“I love it. I wish I could have bid on it,” she said.
“$600. I can’t believe it.”
“You know, that’s the cut we receive. When the guys buy tokens, they pay ten cents each. If they buy a large quantity like it took to get this, they get some discount, but assuming the winner paid eight cents a token, the bid was really close to a thousand dollars. Art, you are worth that. The drawing is great.”
“I know they paid that much because they were watching you,” I said. “This is one instance where the model was just as valuable as the drawing.”
“Um… About that… I don’t think I should model for you any longer,” Susan whispered. I looked at her and saw a tear forming in her eye. “It’s like a drug,” she continued. “I was on such an incredible high that I’d want it to feel like that every time. I’d keep wanting to up the dosage in order to get the same high. I’d end up fucking you and ruining something good between you and your girlfriends and between me and Zen. Maybe I’d O.D. I could see myself being passed around to others who I thought would give me a bigger charge. I’ve been on this spiral all year with exposing myself in school to modeling for you. You’re a powerful drug, Arthur. But I really want you to be my friend.”
There wasn’t much I could say. Sure, I wanted to say some things, to reassure her, whatever. But those words didn’t seem to be part of my vocabulary just now. I pulled her to me and hugged her while we looked at the drawing.
They really turned up the heat on us after spring break. Studio Arts freshmen had an end-of-year exhibition in which we were to show our progress. The exhibition was juried by the faculty and, based on their evaluation, it was determined whether we would be admitted to the BFA program or be advised to get a BA so we could at least teach.
I knew that if I didn’t get into the BFA program, I’d just quit school. I’d never be a teacher.
There weren’t that many Studio Arts freshmen in a total class of 200. It’s competitive to get into the program from the start. There were even fewer in the writing program and in photography which were BA programs, but there were quite a few more in Graphic Arts and Business Administration programs. Those of us in Studio Arts had all taken the three fundamental courses: Drawing, Painting, and Sculpture. We were to create an exhibit that included at least one piece from each class, plus a summary of what we felt we learned in our first year. Beyond that, we were free to work with our advisors on exactly what we would include in our exhibition.
My advisor was Dr. Robinson, who had been my Drawing Studio professor first term. She was happy with what she called my ‘bevy of bosoms.’ She felt that the original drawing of Annette’s breast showed my mastery of the technical aspects of drawing and that the later finished drawings of my classmates showed clearly my ability to turn technique to art.
My paintings were a different matter entirely. The classroom studies were not exciting to me. Everyone painted the same thing in different media. Dr. Robinson said that my paintings from the class were competent, but not outstanding. She shook her head and sighed.
“Okay. What are you holding back? Everyone knows Professor Wilbur’s subjects are boring. They are designed only to teach you how to control the medium. God help us if students actually think that is what they should exhibit. What have you really done this year?”
I smiled and reached in my portfolio. The first was the watercolor I did of Annette’s breast. She looked at it critically and smiled.
“This certainly keeps the theme alive. Do you have breasts in three different mediums?” I shook my head. I gave her the pastel I did of Kendra reading on the sofa with younger Kendra looking over her shoulder. “Oh, this is very nice, Arthur. Composition is well-posed. The expression on the younger girl’s face tells us all about what the older one is reading. It’s not necessary to see the cover or title of the book. It is definitely something steamy. That’s also reflected in the position of the model’s hand. It’s not overtly sexual, but conveys sensuality when she touches her own neck. This is very good work. What do you have for your next medium?”
The paint was not quite cured on the last piece, so I had printed a large photo.
“Still a little wet,” I said. “I’ll be able to display it, though.” It had taken a month and three paintings to get the one that I liked best. Susan had her head thrown back in ecstasy, the blindfold making it clear that she was subject to unknown passion. Susan often complained about her flat nipples when she wanted to show them off, but I’d seen her in every stage of arousal and had no difficulty painting them as stiff. Her sex was a barely visible crease above the drapery, but the position of her foot on the stool made it clear that she was wide open and available. Of course, it was the contrast between the woman, rigid in orgasm, with the soft folds of the drapery that surrounded her that made the composition work. I had other paintings of Susan, but they lacked that moment of paralysis at the peak of her pleasure.
“You’ve been very busy this term, Arthur,” Dr. Robinson said. “Have you been able to capture anything this passionate in three dimensions? Or were you content just to sculpt one of your many breasts?”
“Um… Didn’t really get to um… feel them,” I blushed. “Just look.”
“Well, you can’t always touch what you want to sculpt. What did you come up with?”
It’s hard to transport clay models without them falling over and getting squashed unless they are fired. So far, mine was drying so that the moisture content was low enough that Kendra could fire it without having it burst. I lifted it carefully from the box and set it on Dr. Robinson’s desk.
“How did you feel when you created this?” she asked.
“Um… Turned on,” I said. Damn it! Did I say that out loud? The memory of having Susan posed as Dolly while I stroked her face and neck still got me hard.
“I can well imagine. The little details. The cleft in her chin. The hollow of her throat. I’m impressed. I know you consider drawing and painting to be your focus, but don’t lose touch with this. When I compare this clay with the painting—shall we call it ‘Blind Passion?’—it is as if I had stepped into the painting and could walk around her. I believe that working in this medium has helped your painting. This is well beyond what we expect of most freshman projects. You’ve set a high bar for yourself, Arthur. I’m looking forward to the next year.”
My presentation was all slides taken from my classroom journals and the photos of a couple of my exhibition pieces. I was in a panic and didn’t sleep for two days before I had to get up in front of my classmates. Annette and Morgan had a solution—besides frequent blowjobs and sex—and I started to relax. When I stood to give my presentation, Kendra went to the podium.
“Kendra? May I ask why you have taken the podium?” Prof Leitner asked.
“As you all know, Arthur has a little difficulty in front of groups with formal presentations. Many of us have been able to engage him in private conversations, but words… not words so much as speaking… is difficult. I am Arthur’s certified interpreter,” Kendra said.
“Who certified you?”
“His girlfriends and parents.”
“A little unusual, but I see no reason not to proceed.” Kendra waited for me to put the first slide up. It was the picture I’d first sketched of Kendra and titled ‘Scary Girl’.
“Frightened. O… Over… whelmed,” I managed to say.
“In fact, breath-stopping panic might be accurate,” Kendra took up the narration. “Everywhere I looked, there were strangers. Professors expected me to talk and participate in class. It was a sea of faces and I was drowning.” As Kendra proceeded to tell my story, in my words, I showed more pictures from my journal and artwork, including a quick flash through all fifteen of the nipples I’d drawn. That got a few laughs. Periodically, I’d interject a few words about what I’d discovered.
“Friends. Not just Kendra and girlfriends. I never knew I had friends before.”
Kendra picked up the narration again, talking about what we’d all learned about friendship, leadership, trust, and vulnerability. The last slide was of the painting I’d done of me standing on the steps and feeling the rush of friendship and respect that my friends had given me after the student strike. Kendra let me finish.
“I… have friends. They trust me. I don’t want to quit now. Still overwhelmed. But… not drowning.” There was a round of applause when I shut the slides off. “Thank you.”
“It’s too bad Susan doesn’t want to pose for you any longer,” Annette sighed as we sat at dinner. Kendra was staying with us for the weekend after school let out and would fly home for a week on Monday. She planned to bring her sister back with her to give her a taste of independence. It was likely that her mother would visit for a while, too. So, my two girlfriends, Kendra, and my parents were chatting around the table while I listened.
“You had such good chemistry with her,” Morgan continued. “That last painting and the sculpture were some of the best work you’ve ever done.”
“More successful than my aura sculptures,” Kendra laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. I still plan to continue doing them, but they have to be in context. Fortunately, I had a lot of other work that impressed the instructors as being more understandable. They considered the auras to be abstract art. They want first year students focused on realism.”
“I might do more dreamscapes next year,” I said. “Miss them.”
“We need to find you another nude model,” Annette said. “Who can we get who would be completely comfortable undressing and posing for you?” I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or a little sarcastic. Ten women had posed nude for me. Well, at least they were topless. Kendra lowered her head a little and looked out of her eyelashes as she raised her hand just above the table.
“Me?” she squeaked.
“Kendra? Really? What about…?” I started.
“Arthur, you can draw my magic wand or ignore it. You can look at my lightning bolt. And my piercings. I know you can draw what is under them as well as how they look. I’m not afraid of what I look like in your eyes,” she said.
“I think she just wants to get naked with you,” Mom said blandly. We dropped our forks as if it was choreographed.
It was going to be an interesting project.
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