Life Drawing for Developing Artists

Ingredients list (possible mild spoilers):

1 cup romance

1 cup comedy

1/2 cup futanari/cis-female sex

1/4 cup discussion of coercion

1 tbsp cis-male nudity and attraction

1 tsp public nudity

1 pinch orgasm denial

This is a work of erotic fantasy, all characters and events are fictional, all characters are over the age of 18. This series uses the term "futanari" to describe the main character, as a way of separating her from any real-world identities. The writer condemns the discrimination, tokenization, or fetishization of real-world trans and intersex people.

This is Number 6 in a series --

The Adventures of Penny Thompson

. Each story is meant to be self-contained and enjoyable on their own, but I think you'll enjoy them more if you read them in order!

Special thanks to:

SubbyClaraJane

for tone, sensitivity, and subject matter expertise!

THBGato

for ongoing advice and support!

"So what are you going to do? What do you want to do?" Mikayla Davis asked. She was sitting on Penny Thompson's bed, surrounded by pillows and plushies, still wearing her pajamas.

"I don't knoooow!" Penny moaned, pacing back and forth in their tiny dorm room, clutching her

Blåhaj

shark plushie like a shield. "I really want to keep helping at the clinic, it's so rewarding, and fun... and hot... but I don't know if I'm ready to work with a male client. I don't want to disappoint Dr. Grace, I don't want her to be mad at me! I owe her a lot..."

Penny had arrived back at their room the night before, after

her latest Sex Therapy Clinic session

. The session itself had gone splendidly, she had helped the librarian Sati Kapoor confront her fears, victory via vigorous dominant fucking. But Dr. Grace's suggestion had put Penny into an anxiety spiral.

"Okay. First of all, you don't owe the Doctor a damn thing! You're her intern, and she's paying you for your F.O.F. work." Mikayla had decided that

Futanari Orgasm Fairy

was too much of a mouthful.

"That makes this a boss/worker relationship, even if you did lose your virginity to her. Anyway, you have the power of specialized labor, if she tells you to do something you aren't comfortable with, you tell her to kick rocks! She can find a different gorgeous, sweet, brilliant college babe with a nine-inch cock to exploit."

Penny rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, but couldn't stop herself from blushing.

"But the question still stands, Red. What do you want to do? Do you want to be with a man? You told me you were pansexual, once."

"Well, I mean... I find plenty of boys attractive... Timothée Chalamet, the chef from

The Bear

, the singer from

The 1975

..."

"Okay... do you like any guys that don't look like sexy rodents?"

Penny giggled and threw her shark plushie at Mikayla.

Mikayla snatched it out of the air and stashed it between her legs.

"Oh fuck yeah Timothée,

Ratatouille

me!" Mikayla moaned exaggeratedly, yanking at a handful of her own hair, pretending to be controlled like a puppet by a rat. "Use my skinny whitegirl body, make me bake a cake!"

Penny reached between Mikayla's thighs and tried to rescue her shark, but Mikayla's legs were clamped tightly and wouldn't budge. Penny grinned and climbed on top of her roommate, and proceeded to tickle her stomach.

Mikayla yelped in fear, caught in the terror known only by the truly ticklish. She pinned Penny's arms to her sides, causing Penny to lose her balance and fall forward onto Mikayla. They ended up nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, both laughing, gasping for breath. Intense Eye Contact occurred.

Mikayla leaned forward, nose pressed into Penny's slender neck, breathing deeply and savoring her unique scent, warm and faintly spicy. Penny held still, hovering over Mikayla's soft curvy body, silently willing Mikayla to do something more, scared of breaking the spell.

She could feel her cock starting to swell, pressing into the fabric of her pajama pants, pushing gently into Mikayla's stomach. Mikayla's eyes glanced downwards and she smiled mischievously, realizing the power dynamic of the moment had just reversed polarity.

She subtly pushed her hips up from the bed, rising just slightly to meet Penny's hardening member. Penny involuntarily pushed back, the growing length of her shaft grinding across Mikayla's pubic mound, separated by two thin layers of pajama.

Mikayla leaned in further and nibbled at Penny's neck, small sharp bites that made the ginger futanari shiver and moan. Penny felt a pulse of precum begin to stain her pajamas. If this continued for much longer, there was going to be a terrible mess. "Kayla, I need to..."

Penny's phone alarm went off, breaking the spell, informing them it was time to get ready for class. The moment passed. They sheepishly untangled their bodies and started getting dressed for the day, turning away from each other to provide some modicum of privacy.

Penny put on a cute pair of denim overalls. The straps hugged the gentle curve of her petite breasts, and the bib had a couple of pockets to hold her phone and some art supplies. It also conveniently obscured her inconvenient erection, which was finally giving up and subsiding. Underneath she wore a snug white crop top, showing off a narrow glimpse of pale freckled skin in the gap between the sides of her overalls and the bottom of her shirt. The weather had fully turned to winter, so she threw a puffy green jacket over top.

Mikayla put on a knee-length black skirt over a pair of gray thigh-high wool socks, black tank top, and a black jacket with lots of zippers, extra long sleeves that covered the tips of her fingers, and a voluminous hood. Glossy black lipstick and silver lip and nose rings completed her "cozy winter goth" look.

As the two girls left their room to head to classes, Mikayla stopped Penny in the doorway.

"You should do what you want, Penny. If you want to explore men, you should do it on your terms, not someone else's. If you don't want to, you shouldn't. I want you to be happy, and I want you to be safe. If somebody hurts you, I'll make them disappear. They'll never be seen again, Serial will make a True Crime podcast about them, it'll be eight episodes long and have an unsatisfying ending."

Penny giggled. "That's the nicest, most ominous thing anyone has ever said to me."

Color Theory was dry as usual, and Penny couldn't keep her mind from wandering. She pulled her phone out of her overalls and set it in her lap under the flip-top desk.

Sent at 9:20am

Hi Marci, you wanted

me to message you??

Sent at 9:24am

Penny hiii :D

How are you doing?

I wanted to check on

you after last night.

How are you doing?

Sent at 9:24am

I'm okay, I think..

Is Dr. Grace mad at me??

I don't want to disappoint

her, but I don't know if I

can do what she's asking

with male clients, I mean..

Sent at 9:30am

To be honest, I don't

know what that was about. :

Grace has some male clients,

but not very many. She was

a bit frustrated when you

were in there with Sati.

I think she felt left out.

I think she's feeling a little

insecure and possessive.

You're able to achieve patient

breakthroughs in an hour that

she can't accomplish in months.

That's an Identity Threat, for her.

Sent at 9:31am

Really?? But she's

so confident..

Sent at 9:34am

Oh Penny, older adults are

usually not as confident

as they appear :D :D

I'll talk to her later this week.

Please don't overthink this.

Don't do anything you aren't

comfortable with, full stop.

"No" is a complete sentence!

Sent at 9:35am

Mikayla said the same thing..

Well actually she said

she would turn Dr. Grace

into a True Crime Podcast

if Grace tried to exploit my labor

Sent at 9:37am

LOL! That's a bit

aggressive, but it sounds

like her heart is in the

right place! I think

Mikayla and I would

probably get along well. :D

Penny caught up to Mikayla at the Student Union Building for lunch.

"Marci sounds pretty cool for an old lady, I'm glad you have a comrade on the inside," Mikayla mumbled between mouthfuls of vegan lentil curry.

"You make it sound like we're planning a military coup..." Penny said, half-heartedly picking at her pizza. "I'm still not sure what I want to do about the... um... the Man Situation? I'm not going to just jump into bed with one of Dr. Grace's male clients, I've decided that much. But that doesn't mean I'm absolutely against the idea of ever being with a man..."

"We're in college, Red. I think it's traditionally the time to experiment. You don't owe an explanation for your place on the spectrum to anyone. Not to me, not to Dr. Grace, not to anyone. There's plenty of art school dick around here, maybe you should find a nice, non-threatening boy to ride, and see if you like it or not?"

"Oh my gosh, you're terrible. You wouldn't get jealous?"

"Bold of you to assume I wouldn't be involved," Mikayla grinned, her sharp white teeth contrasting dramatically with her glossy black lipstick.

The top twenty percent of Penny's body turned crimson. "Have you um... have you been with more than one person? At once?"

"No. But I'd like to, some day. If it were with the right people." Intense Eye Contact II: Revenge of the Meaningful Gaze.

When Mikayla and Penny arrived at the studio classroom for Figure Drawing, it was immediately clear that the vibes were different. Prof. Fred had turned the room's thermostat up and the lights down. He was playing some chill indie rock oldies from the 1990s on a CD player in the corner.

"Come in everybody, find your seats. The moment you've all been waiting for -- or dreading -- is finally here. We have a live model with us today." There was a nervous susurrus of whispering students.

"I'm going to invite our model to come in, and he's going to disrobe. Our model won't be fully nude right away, we're going to start with some draped warm-up poses before ending with a longer nude pose. Alright, you can come out and say hello to the class!"

Penny and Mikayla exchanged glances. Penny looked nervous, Mikayla looked eager. Chekhov's Live Model was finally about to go off.

A young man entered the studio space. He was tall and broad-shouldered, of indeterminate ethnicity. His face was smooth and hairless, with sharp cheekbones and a killer jawline. His mop of curly brown hair almost covered his big brown eyes, like a sexy alpaca. He was wearing a terry cloth robe that ended halfway down his muscular thighs.

"Hey, y'all. Glad to be here..." he said, his voice deep and languid, almost sleepy.

"Oh my God... that's fucking

Hank!

" Mikayla hissed at Penny. "The himbo from Method Acting!" Penny didn't respond, but her eyes were wide.

Hank stepped up onto the circular daïs in the center of the room. He sat down sideways in a wicker chair, one arm propped up on the back of the chair, the other resting casually on his knee. He draped a white cloth over one shoulder and into his lap, then disrobed. His shoulders and back were strong and muscly; his chest and arms were well defined; his abdomen was flat with a hint of a six-pack, hairless except for a faint happy trail leading down into his draped lap.

"You'll have about twenty minutes for this first pose. Don't get hung up on details or shading, don't start with the face. Look at the model's proportions and pose, focus on the shapes, not the person." Prof. Fred said. "Begin."

Mikayla picked up a charcoal pencil and started sketching on her pad, rendering Hank's body as a series of curves and angles. She looked over at Penny, who hadn't started drawing yet. "Earth

to Red... draw a picture, it'll last longer."

Penny jumped like she had been shocked with a cattle prod. "Oh gosh, right... sorry!" She fumbled a pencil out of her overalls, dropped it, crouched to retrieve it, muttered a second apology, scraped her stool loudly across the floor as she sat back down, apologized a third time. Mikayla rolled her eyes and tried to focus on her drawing.

"Alright, that's time," Prof. Fred announced. "Thank you Hank, well done. Let's take ten, then we'll come back for some flash poses."

Mikayla's finished drawing was rough and expressive, dynamic and full of motion, not over-thought.

Penny's was more precise and reflective, but she had only partly-finished. She had rendered Hank's body as a quick pencil sketch, then started to fill out the details from the head down. She had spent way too long on Hank's face and hair, every curl of hair carefully observed, every sharp angle shaded and defined. She had gotten as far as his smooth shoulders and one muscled arm. The rest of the drawing was a ghostly penciled apparition.

"Your detail is excellent, Ms. Thompson, but let's save that for the final long pose today. Time constraints foster boldness. Ms. Davis, expressive as always." Prof. Fred nodded to both girls and moved on to the next pair of students, leaving Penny and Mikayla to look at each other's work.

"Damn Red, I feel like I need to leave you and that drawing alone for a while. You um... want me to introduce you to Hank? We've got a few minutes to kill."

Penny turned bright red. "What? No! I can't talk to him while he's

naked!

"

"He's not naked, he's got a... tablecloth. Come on," Mikayla pulled Penny by the arm, and dragged her over to the daïs.

Hank was sitting in the chair, stretching his strong arms over his head, staring up at the skylights in the ceiling of the studio. His drape was pooled around his lap, covering his private parts.

"Hey Hank, remember me? From Method Acting?" Mikayla grinned, hand clamped onto Penny's like a bear trap. Penny looked like she was debating the merits of gnawing her arm off to escape.

"Oh, hey. Mikayla Davis. Chicago. Anarcho-syndicalist. I liked your monologue last week, the one about guillotining billionaires."

"Um... Yeah. That's me! I didn't know they used other students as life models for this class."

"They don't, I'm not actually a student... I'm just auditing the acting class. I wanted to get better at feeling and mirroring other people's energy. Then I saw a poster at the yoga studio seeking life models, and figured it would be good to blur my physical boundaries with the universe."

"Oh. Cool... Hey, this is my friend Penny. Say hi, Penny."

"Hi, Penny..." Penny squeaked, her voice cracking, mortified at talking to a casually nude man.

"I like your overalls. Women deserve more pockets," Hank said, swiping his shaggy hair away from his eyes, taking in every detail of Penny's body, face, soul and identity.

"Th- thanks! I w- wear other clothes too, sometimes. Most of them have pockets." Penny stammered. "You um... probably miss having pockets. Right now." She struggled valiantly to keep her gaze at a ninety-degree angle.

"It's fine. I try not to carry too many possessions with me. But I appreciate the empathy, Penny With the Pockets. You have a kind aura. Very Pink-Purple, with a hint of Green."

"...Totally, that's our Penny... Well, we better leave you to it, take it easy Hank!" Mikayla said, now dragging Penny back to their seats.

"Fuck, what a hot weirdo," Mikayla muttered. "You doing alright, Red?"

Penny nodded slowly. She reached for her stool while still staring across the room at Hank; missed; lost her balance; knocked over her easel; proceeded to conduct a brief exercise in improvised slapstick humor.

Hank delivered a series of three-minute flash poses, giving the class a chance to practice quick pose and posture sketches. Standing, wearing a Grecian toga. Foot on chair, elbow resting on knee. Leaning back in chair, running hand through hair. Contemplating an apple.

Mikayla thrived in such conditions, effortlessly drawing a series of quick minimalistic sketches, practically animated in their fluidity. Penny did her best to keep up, but kept getting distracted by the model.

At the end of the allotted time, Hank slipped back into his robe and slippers and took a quick bathroom break. Professor Fredricks recruited a couple of students to help him rearrange furniture on the daïs, replacing the simple chair with an old chaise longue sofa.

"Alright class, time for the main event. We're going to end with a 40-minute nude pose. Now is when you can really spend some time and attention on detail, shading, texture, facial features, the works. Whenever you're ready, Hank."

Hank returned to the daïs, then slipped off his robe and reclined onto the sofa. Laying on his side, one elbow on the raised end of the chaise longue, head resting on his hand. His other hand lay casually draped over his stomach, legs drawn in slightly. His penis was exposed, fairly small and modest, nestled in a small tuft of curly brown pubic hair. He settled himself into a comfortable pose, set his gaze out over top of the class and to one corner of the room, and became perfectly still, breathing gently.

Penny and Mikayla glanced silently at each other, and began their final drawings for the day.

"Come on Red, spill that tea. You were practically eye-fucking Hank the entire class, you were

into

that shit."

Penny stared intently at her plate of pasta, like the answer to life, the universe, and everything could be found in a pile of butter noodles.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I was just... um... focusing on the art."

"You were focusing on that

dick

," Mikayla teased, then took a bite of stuffed bell pepper. "Listen, if Hank were sitting here with us in the SUB, he'd say something like, 'The Universal Mother wants you to fuck me, and unlock your third eye.'" She said the last part in a slow, deep, sleepy voice.

Penny giggled at Mikayla's impression. "Okay. Okay! Is he pretty? Yes, he's very pretty. That doesn't mean I want him to be my boyfriend."

"I didn't say a damn thing about boyfriends. I don't think Hank is boyfriend material. He'd probably get lost in a meadow of wildflowers after the second date and you'd never see him again. But I happen to know, from extremely reliable rumors, that he is very open minded. Very giving."

Mikayla reached across the table and touched Penny's hands. "Listen. If you don't want me to talk about this anymore, I'll stop. I'll never bring it up again."

Penny smiled and gave Mikayla's hands a squeeze. "No. I'm glad I can talk to you about this. It's confusing, and kind of embarrassing, but that doesn't mean I want it to go away.

"I trust you, I feel safe with you, I know you'll push me to do what I want, and won't push me into something I

don't

want. Maybe, um... you could help me hang out with Hank, a little bit? And see what happens? And also, tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to endanger our... our... whatever we have... for an experiment."

Mikayla smiled softly and looked into Penny's eyes. "Deal. That settles it, I'm going to be your Dick Doula. We're going to get this thing done together!"

Penny laughed, then wrinkled her nose. "Oh gosh... it was so warm in that studio, I was sweating the whole time. I think I stink."

"I like your stink," Mikayla grinned. "But do you want to... take a shower?"