Pose

This story has a heavy BDSM focus, a sub female protagonist with male doms, and a focus on humiliation/degradation. If that is not your thing or if you're offended by such elements, it might be better to read another story. Thanks for understanding.

"You're really good, Chloe," Matt said as he looked at my photos.

I answered with thanks, but honestly, as pretentious as it sounds... I knew I was good. Everyone in my photography class knew I was the best out of the group of thirty—all the guys agreed to that fact. I say all the guys, because out of the group of thirty students attending that college class, I was the only girl.

And honestly, I loved it. It was cool to be the only girl in a gang and also be the best photographer. All the guys looked up to me—the only girl was the gold standard of achievement, and that made me ultra-proud. Matt kept scrolling through my pictures. Every week, we had a photography project to present to the class: each student would take pictures during the week and present them on the classroom's projector screen.

The pictures could be anything, portraits, landscapes or even situations. As long as we had a style and a grasp of technique, that's all it took to get an A+, which is what I got every single time. I'm not afraid of saying it proudly: I was a good photographer, and Matt saw it once again as he scrolled through my city portraits—pictures of the city's streets I had taken.

Still, as good as I was behind the camera, I had always had a deep curiosity for being in front of the camera. All my female friends said I should pose for portraits—according to them, my long, wavy red hair and light brown eyes made me photogenic. They all said I looked pretty, but then all girl friends say that to one another. That said, a friend who owned a yoga clothing store had once asked me to model for advertisement pictures.

I had really wanted to—I jog a lot and eat healthy, being a vegetarian. As slutty as it sounds, having the opportunity to pose in shape-revealing clothing like yoga clothes had proved itself very enticing, but scheduling conflicts had ended up cancelling the whole thing.

Matt turned to his apartment's door. "They should be here any minute now," he said, mentioning his models that were scheduled to come for his own photo project. "I hope mine will be as good as yours."

"I'm sure it will," I said with an encouraging smile—and I really believed what I said. Matt's project was pretty daring, and I always liked daring.

Nudity is no stranger to a photographer's gang, and we already had a bunch of projects with nudity in it, butt Matt's was going to be different. The nudity we had seen before was the casual type where the body looks completely normal and not necessarily attractive in any sensual way. Matt however was going to do a sensual photoshoot; one whose concept was so cool that I just had to be there—hence why I was in his apartment that Sunday evening.

The doorbell rang and in came Matt's first model, a friend of his called James. He was tall and good looking with short black hair. I'd say he looked the James Bond type, which made his first name a happy coincidence. Quickly, as the other models entered, it was clear to me that he had selected all his models according to that James Bond look; all black-haired, slick and handsome men with a classy air—the sort of guys who would look good in suits. After all, that's exactly what they were going to wear. Suits.

They changed into their slick black tuxedos and sat down as we waited for the seventh model. There would be six men, and one woman; a woman we were still waiting for. We were chatting around his coffee table, and I was in a discussion with Chris, one of Matt's models.

"It's cool that you came to help him out," he said.

I nodded but tried to keep my smile at a minimum. Yes, I had come to help him with his lights or if he needed help with his camera, but... That wasn't THE reason why I had come. The reason was more... well, personal. Matt's concept unknowingly touched upon a secret scenario that I had always dreamed of. A fantasy.

"She's daring, isn't she?" Pete remarked—James Bond number 3.

"Who?"

"The model girl."

I instantly nodded, full of admiration for that unknown woman who was yet to come. She would be the only woman posing alongside guys wearing suits... and she would be completely naked. Matt's concept was incredible from a visual angle; there was something automatically enticing to a photographer like me when I imagined a bunch of guys in a suit and the contrast of a lone nude woman; there was poetry in that simple yet visually powerful contrast. Chloe the photographer was amazed by the idea, but another Chloe too was interested in it.

Chloe the young woman with secret kinks—she too, was fascinated by it. I had always wanted to be naked around a group of clothed men—part submissive and part exhibitionist is how I'd describe the nature of my kinks. There was something super-hot about the idea of being exposed to clothed guys who dominate me just by the one-sided nature of my nudity. I had come to Matt's house because I didn't want to miss his photoshoot. I wouldn't ever live that fantasy for myself, but at least I could live it vicariously through that model by looking at her.

I already imagined her taking her clothes off and being surrounded by six clothed guys in suits. It made me a little aroused already, thinking of myself in her place, but it also made me a bit sad. Sad knowing that I would never have the courage to do that myself.

Time passed as we chatted. We quickly realized it was now 6:30 PM—the photoshoot was half an hour late. The model was half an hour late. And Matt was getting concerned. He walked away from the living room and sent multiple text messages to the girl, receiving no answer. I walked up to him.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I don't know. She's not answering."

"Problem with the subway?"

"She's coming by car. Traffic jam maybe, but then she'd be able to answer..." The project was due for tomorrow, but Matt was always the optimist. True to his nature, he shrugged lightheartedly. "I just want to know if she'll be coming or not. Not a problem if she can't, I'll just do portraits with the guys."

Ironically, his disappointment was non-existent, but mine was enormous. I lost my smile and frowned. "Fuck, that would suck... You have such a cool concept..."

He shrugged. "Life is life."

We returned to the living room and continued our conversations with the six James Bondses. They were all smiling and accepting the eventual change of plans with complete casualness, a casualness I could barely comprehend. They would have had the chance to look at a girl's naked body, and a model at that. They were guys. Why weren't they disappointed?

It didn't take much time for me to realize why. Seeing a naked girl wasn't some rare, once in a lifetime event. The models were all Pierce Brosnan looking pieces of ass—they probably saw their fare share of hot naked girls all the time, and Matt wasn't unattractive either by any stretch of the imagination.

I, meanwhile, still clung to that hope desperately. What I wanted was to live one of my deepest fantasies through a braver soul than I. I had done my fair share of looking at erotic imagery with men in suits holding naked women—I would close my eyes and masturbate while imagining myself as the girl; picturing the sexual tension and the sexiness that had to permeate a photoshoot like that. So, I chatted with the boys and waited still, but then the dreaded call finally came.

Matt picked up his phone and talked to the model. Apparently, her dog was going through a sudden allergic reaction and she could not come. He wished her good luck, said it was no problem at all, and hung up with a smile. "Too bad," he said, chuckling, and his James Bond models went to the bathroom mirror to check their hair one last time before the photoshoot began. The shoot would just be men in suits then, nothing else.

"You think she's lying?" Matt asked. I gave him a confused look. "Well you know... Maybe she wasn't comfortable with the whole concept. Being naked with guys in suits, I mean."

"She said yes to the project to start with. That means she was O.K with it."

"I did say I would pay her though. €100 isn't that much. Maybe the only reason she was willing was because of the pay. And then she decided it wasn't enough."

I shook my head. I didn't agree at all with his theory. "Why are you just taking for granted that she was uncomfortable with the concept? Maybe she wanted to do the photoshoot for that and not for the money."

He laughed and slapped his knee. "Come on, Chloe, why would a girl want to do a photoshoot like that if not for the money?"

"Because she would enjoy it? It's possible, you know?"

He gave me a dumbfounded look. Now it was his turn not to believe me at all. "Enjoy what? The guys would enjoy it, yeah, because the girl is naked. But what the does the girl get? Having guys look at her while they're clothed?"

He was talking about it as if it were a chore, I realized. "Many girls would do it just for that reason, you know?"

Again, he absolutely did not believe me. He chuckled my belief away in a rather dismissive fashion, saying, "You say that, but you'd never do it." I turned white. Here's one thing to know about me: I'll do anything not to lose an argument. I didn't want Matt to win this one, but... I couldn't confess the truth, either. "Exactly," he said in a winning tone. "Especially not for €100—I know I wouldn't do it."

He left with that confidence in his beliefs. It took me a minute to accept that the vicarious experience I had dreamed of would not be a reality. When I did, I followed Matt to his little studio where he had set up his lights and a white background. The models returned from having perfected their hair. They placed themselves in front of the white background and Matt began taking his pictures.

I sat in the back, looking at them with a pout on my lips. Holy fuck, that photoshoot was boring... It was just a bunch of portraits of guys in suits—exactly the kind you'd see in a clothing store. Matt would show me the pics on his camera, and then show them to his models. The boys smiled and laughed, drawing the exact same comparison I had, jokingly stating how hot they looked.

Honestly, I could see where Matt was coming from. The photos looked good, really good. The technique was pretty flawless, and as far as our teacher was concerned, technique was the most important part. The photos looked professional and well-lit, and Matt would certainly at least get an A for this project. The guys were having fun posing and goofing around; jokingly pretending to be actors posing for perfume advertisements.

Yeah well, fucking great. The guys were having fun, but there was a single lone girl sitting in the back, and that was me. And I wasn't having fun. I was totally bummed out. Part of me even felt a sort of artistic anger towards Matt. Why is that? Well, isn't it obvious? He had a great concept on his hands—something full of visual contrast, nudity vs clothing, feminine vs masculine, strength vs nude confidence, etc. I expected him to be angry at the loss of such artistic potential like any artist would. Instead, he was content with technique-filled pictures.

Nice pictures, yes. But they were cold and monotonous. I imagined all the life and energy that would have oozed out of them if a single naked girl was to stand among the guys in suits. I pictured the sensuality and the eroticism coming out of such visuals... I closed my eyes and pictured myself as the girl, totally naked, exposed and vulnerable to the sight of clothed, strong men. My entire nude flesh bared for the camera while theirs was covered with the prestige and authority of tuxedos.

I pictured myself posing in front of the camera, fearless and proud, arching my back and showing off my tits while they stood behind me in their suits. I imagined pictures with me showing off my bare ass while not a single part of their bodies could be seen. Not only was the image utterly sensual, the scene made me feel so humiliated and dominated. The men being not only clothed but in suits while I, the only girl was naked, was an idea so unfair that it was full of power dynamics.

There was something naughty about it. The images in my mind were not outright saying that the girl is dominated by the men, but that feeling was inescapable from the one-sided nudity. Such images felt like they were implying BDSM without outright saying it, and that somehow made the BDSM aspect stronger. I even imagined myself in more submissive poses, kneeling for example...

I realized I had turned myself on just by closing my eyes and imagining all that. I opened my eyes and saw that the guys were still having fun, posing and goofing around. Annoyed, I left the little studio and went for the bathroom where I locked the door. I looked at myself in the mirror. My friends were right—my red hair and brown eyes made for a photogenic combination but... that wouldn't be the focus of somebody watching pictures where I would be naked.

My body wasn't bad... It wasn't bad at all, in fact. Wasn't it a bit arrogant to believe that I could be acceptable in a photoshoot such as the one Matt had intended? Maybe it was, but I didn't care. Sure, maybe it was arrogant of me to think it, but I genuinely thought I would have looked good in Matt's original vision.

I sat on the toilet and scrolled through Instagram and Facebook, waiting for my arousal to pass. It finally did, and once I felt normal again, I returned to the studio. Matt was just announcing a ten-minute pause, after which the shoot would resume for an additional thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes... In less than an hour, the models would leave, killing that incredible vision forever. I tried telling myself that the vision was already dead—it had been since the model had seen her dog reacting to allergies. But... was it truly dead yet?

I won't lie, there was a genuine pit in my stomach. The kind where you absolutely want to do something, and you know that if you don't take the chance now, that chance will go forever. My heart was beating faster.

Matt's original vision for the photoshoot... It was something I had always dreamed to experience, even if only vicariously. Just put yourself in my shoes for a second: you've always had a fantasy in your mind, an extremely specific fantasy. And now, you meet someone who has that exact vision in their mind. Sure, to him, it was a photo project, not a fantasy. But still... It was the exact same vision that I had masturbated to for years since my younger years.

And in less than an hour... poof. The chance would go. The pit in my stomach was unbearable, and I was growing restless inside. I looked at the James Bond looking hunks around me. They were so manly and hot in their suits... I imagined them holding me against their clothed chests, their hands on my hips; and me completely naked, vulnerable and protected by them...

I couldn't take it... I don't know what happened at that moment. I'm not sure I was in control of myself, but I walked over to Matt who was proudly looking at his dull, testosterone filled, monotone pictures. No contrast in them, no opposition, no twist or turn... What a twist a lone, nude girl in the midst would make...

"Hey," I said. He looked up at me with a relaxed smile. He had absolutely no idea where this convo was going, did he? "You know, earlier... You said I'd never do it. Not for €100."

He raised an eyebrow and threw me a dubious look. "Yeah...?"

I couldn't possibly be doing this. I couldn't possibly be doing this for real... "I'd fucking do it for free."

He gave me a silent, slightly awkward look for a moment. Clearly, he didn't know where this was going; what I meant, what I wanted... Sighing, I took his hand and dragged him to the hallway behind the bathroom where no one would see us. Matt noticed my pout and my unease. My cheeks had gone red, I was frowning and looking away from him. A blind person could have told something was nagging me.

"You alright?" he asked, concerned.

I nodded, but my face said the complete opposite. "Listen, I..." I took a deep breath and felt my cheeks going even more red. "I'm gonna be real honest with you. I... The photoshoot you wanted to make..."

He waited for a while. "Yes?"

"It's... Something I always wanted to do..." I looked him right in the eyes.

To my surprise, he shrugged with a smile. "Oh, I get it! Hey, don't sweat it, I don't own the concept. You can do that with one of your photoshoots, don't worry about it."

It took me a moment to understand what he meant. "My photosh... No, no." I chuckled. "Matt, I'm not talking about being behind the camera. I'm talking as a model." This time, he went silent. Awkwardly, he struggled to find anything to say. "I've always wanted to be in a shoot like that... as the model. The girl model."

"Oh..." That's all he said. He was being very, very confused about it. Matt blinked a few times before looking at me again; it was like he wanted to make sure it was actually Chloe talking to him. Classmate Chloe; the friend he hung out with alongside all the other guys. "Why? Why do you... want that?"

"Because it's... it's a kink, I guess. A fetish, a... desire, I don't know. It turns me on. I like the idea. Being naked around clothed guys, especially..." A sudden wave of arousal washed over me and made shake like a chilly wind would. "...especially guys in suits. You know, they're manly, they're strong... I get to be ultra-feminine, vulnerable..."

There were starting to be hints of understanding on his face. "Oh, ok... Is that like... The whole submissive and dominant thing?"

I nodded the shit out of my head. "Yeah, totally. I guess it's that and an exhibitionism thing. They come together. This is... this the perfect mix. Call it a dream come true."

I noticed his eyes doing something they had never, ever done before. They looked not at my face... But at my body. His eyes literally scanned my body and looked at my tits and legs. "And you said... you'd do it?"

When his eyes looked at my face again, I blushed and giggled with embarrassment. Without a thought from my brain, my teeth went for my lower lip, biting it. All the sudden, my body was light, not rigid. All of me was suddenly filled with sensuality, and I was looking at Matt... hungrily. I was looking at him flirtatiously. Seductively. Matt hadn't ever been attractive to me; he was just a classmate and a good friend. But now, at the simple thought of letting him see me naked... I felt like I wanted to flirt with him. To tease him.

I imagined being naked in front of him. Totally naked and exposed, bared and objectified. I imagined the total vulnerability I'd suddenly feel, the embarrassment and shame. I thought of how his eyes would enjoy me in complete unfairness—him clothed and me nude, and I was totally turned on. It was more than clear to me: I really, genuinely wanted it.

I took his hand again and brought him back to the studio. The models were in the living room, and I could see a bit of them from behind one of the walls. They looked so hot, manly and strong. I imagined being nude in front of them... Then I realized something: had the model come for the shoot, she would not have been the only female present.

Right now, I was the only girl in that entire space. If I were to be naked... I would be the only girl, surrounded by seven clothed men. The entire male attention would be mine. I wouldn't have to share it—I could have it all for myself. It would make me feel SO much more feminine and SO much more dominated...

I turned to Matt after taking a deep breath. I couldn't hide the smile on my face. "Yeah. I'd do it. I really wanna do it."