"Inside the guest house and around the patio, but nothing beyond that. The main house has more cameras facing the grounds, but none which can see the guest house. If you go into the guest house, you'll be on camera."
"We might need to use the guest house for inclement weather or for the bathroom facilities," Suki said. "Any problem with that?"
"No problem," Jackson replied. "Call ahead and we'll make sure the guest house is opened for you on days you need to use it."
Suki looked at me. It was my decision. I nodded yes. "Thank you, Brooke. This is going to be a great painting."
Another crack in my facade; the day I decided I could pose nude outside. Suki was chattering like a happy blue jay on the way back to Atlanta. I didn't have much to say.
I showed Tanner the prospective location and he again agreed he would have no problem with it. At least for the commission, I wouldn't be showing as much as last time, but realizing gate guard Jackson had already seen me in all my glory didn't make me comfortable. I imagined like the first painting, the second would have an honored location in his manor and would be available for all the staff to see and one of them already knew it was me. I imagined the rest of the guard crew would immediately be told and possibly all the rest of the staff depending on how much interaction went on between them.
The next few days were spent like the beginning of the first painting. Lot's of photographs at different times of the day, checking for lighting conditions and slight variations of the pose. Since it was a standing pose, Suki gave me a break every 45 minutes, and I wore a robe I brought from home while resting, and a camp chair to sit in. In checking over all of the photos, we both agreed the afternoon light provided the best contrast. The warmer temperatures of the afternoon appealed to me if I was going to be naked out of doors, so afternoons worked better in that respect as well. If we needed to use the guest house, I put the robe back on since I knew I was on camera when I did so.
The next time Oliver contacted me, I explained I was modeling about ninety minutes outside of town and would prefer advance notice, to ensure I met my modeling commitments. I asked if he would attempt to make use of me on forecasted days of rain or thunderstorms if he could. He agreed to make an effort, but some events wouldn't allow for deviation from a particular schedule for the magic to work. This was still before Tanner's promotion, so I didn't have much belief in any magic being performed, other than my cumming while being used.
******
The next completely degrading 'task' Oliver made me participate in, was an amateur strip contest in return for other favors rendered about three weeks after Suki started her next portrait. He wouldn't tell me what the favors were, but given it was to a biker gang, I was relatively certain it was unsavory favors. The bikers either ran or managed a strip club way out in the boonies, Gwinnett County, a couple counties away from Atlanta. It wasn't even in the county seat of Lawrenceville. The club sat on a lonely stretch of road in the middle of nowhere and had an amateur strip contest one Thursday which Oliver entered me into. For the contest, I was given a mask to hide my identity, but unlike the masks I normally wore which also blinded me so I couldn't see, this mask allowed me to see so I wouldn't stumble off the stage. He also gave me the outfit I was supposed to strip off. The outfit provided by Oliver was western in nature, with a front fastening transparent bra under a short, brief vest, some chaps and tear away shorts and panties. It almost looked like a Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders outfit except for the chaps which he said could double for garter belts to tuck the money in. I asked about pasties and a g-string.
"It isn't that kind of strip club and you aren't that kind of stripper," Oliver said. "You're going to take everything off."
I'd never understood stripping particularly; why women would strip for money. Oh, I understood the money was probably pretty good, as professions went, but to be ogled and pawed by a bunch of men never struck me as an appealing line of work. I was not looking forward to the experience.
"You will allow the patrons to touch you as much as they like," Oliver said. "They start waving money around, you dance up to them and let them give you the money. If they touch you when they give you the money, let them."
"I thought patrons of strip clubs weren't allowed to touch the strippers," I said.
"Again, different kind of strip club for more civilized places. This one's rules are more relaxed. They pay a lot of money to keep the local cops from paying too much attention to their club."
Wonderful. I could easily see where this would go. I wonder if they'd fuck me on stage or I could get a little bit of privacy when I was used. A few of the local girls went first and apparently they had either observed stripping before or had stripped themselves at various times. They picked out two songs to dance to and got up, flirting with the local boys or their boyfriends as they took the stage. The first number was essentially a tease, where the outer outfit disappeared leaving them in brief tops and bottoms. The second number was the finale where everything came off to bare skin. They picked sultry numbers and danced creditably on the stage. One of them even knew how to use the pole which made me think she'd stripped before, although I'd heard some women learned to use the stripper pole to keep in shape.
Oliver and I were sitting with the head biker, a mountain of a man over six and a half feet tall, two hundred eighty pounds, some of it gut, but not all. He had a huge beard extending a foot down his chest. He had black leather pants and a leather vest exposing his hairy chest and belly. If there was a source for the legend of a Sasquatch, he could be it.
"I've never done anything like this," I said, indicating the girl on stage using the stripper pole. "I won't be half as good as they are."
"Don't worry about it," Oliver said. "Before you're done, the crowd will be eating up your performance."
It's what I was worried about. Given all which had gone before, I was reasonably certain this wouldn't end with me naked on the stage. It wasn't humiliating enough and wouldn't be sufficient payment for prior favors. Eventually, it was my turn. My mouth was dry and I was shivering even though they kept the club on the warm side. Oliver told me he'd preselected my stripping songs and they were in a playlist they were hooking up to the sound system. Oliver slapped my ass and told me to get on the stage where I waited in trepidation for the music to start. The first song started and I recognized the strains of "Private Dancer" by Tina Turner.
I started to sway to the music. I didn't really know what to do, my only experience with a strip club being my presence in one today. I tried to remember what the other girls had done and duplicate it as best as I could. I knew I looked pretty pathetic up there and most of the guests weren't paying too much attention to me, both because they didn't know me and I didn't know how to attract their attention the way the other girls did. I knew the format to follow and the vest and shorts came off before the ending of the first song, leaving me in the transparent bra and panties, which is when I started to draw some attention, whistles and catcalls.
The second song started, "You Can Leave Your Hat On" by Joe Cocker, the stripping music from the movie "The Full Monty". They started waving dollar bills around, some of them even fives or tens, attempting to draw me closer to see my nipples and pubic lips. Following Oliver's instructions, I would dance closer to them and they would tuck their money in the top of my bra and into my panties. I quickly learned the ones waving the largest denomination bills expected more for their money and their hands lingered longer in my clothes as they pinched a nipple or rubbed the top of my slit.
Despite my fear, disgust and apprehension, I found myself becoming aroused by their cheers, whistles and pawing hands. My nipples were hard as flint and my cunt moistened. About half way through the song, my brassiere came off and I started to get some real attention from the crowd. More and more of them crowded the stage and fluttered bills in their hands, wishing to draw me close enough to grab their pound of flesh. While I was collecting money from one, other hands would be grabbing my tits, squeezing or pinching or pulling on my nipples. Other hands were rubbing my crotch. I got a wet spot on my transparent panties before I had a chance to tear them off. When they came off, the hands got busier. At least two fingers were thrust into my pussy before the song ended. All I had left on was the chaps, and they just served to frame my bald pussy.
All the other girls had gotten off stage after two songs when they were totally naked and I started leaving the stage myself, but the next song started immediately and Oliver told me to masturbate for the crowd. I knew just stripping wouldn't be the end of it. To the lyrics of "Don't Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls and Buster Rhymes, I started masturbating for the crowd. They went wild. By the time they got to the lines 'Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me. Don't cha wish she was a freak like me," I was cumming over my fingers, moaning like the freak in the song. The dollar bills were frantically flourished now, wanting to see the naked slut up on the stage and to paw my nude body. Every time I got close to someone, a finger or two went into my cunt and one bold boy pushed his into my anus, making me bounce on his finger. Before the song ended, I orgasmed again.
I looked at Oliver, desperation in my eyes. He shook his head "no" and tossed a dildo up on the stage. When it appeared, the crowd became more raucous, almost deafening. One of the men crowding the stage jumped up, wanting to help me with the dildo. Thankfully, one of the bouncers grabbed him and escorted him none to gently off the stage with a warning to stay off. "Hot in Herre" by Nelly was playing now and I pushed the dildo in my cunt as the hip-hop beats of 'take off all your clothes' burst from the speakers. By the time "Wet" by Snoop Dog started playing next, the dildo was thick with my creamy juices and they were running down my legs. Almost all the noise had died down to nothing as they listened to me moaning and cumming to the thrusting of the dildo in my hot cunt. I'd cum four times during the two songs and was practically writhing on the floor.
The hairy big man; head biker, and club manager or whatever he was, got on the stage, carrying a chair. None of the bouncers tried to remove him. I looked at him and he pulled down the zipper on his pants releasing his massive prick, sitting down on the chair. "Suck it," he ordered, making me know my torment was not over. "I'm a Slave 4 U" by Brittney Spears was playing now and it's exactly what I felt like, a slave, doing her Master's bidding. His cock and balls were as hairy as the rest of him and I felt like I'd be fellating Chewbacca. I knelt on the floor of the stage and sucked on easily the largest cock I'd seen to date. His cock was musky and sweaty from his leather pants and despite my new found skills, I couldn't get all of his massive organ down my throat, no matter how much I tried. He held his huge paws on my head and pushed down on me over the top of his cock. He wouldn't let me up until I was desperate for air, gasping as soon as he let me up, then he shoved my head down impaling my throat with his cock. The club was still quiet except for the sounds of the music and my gasping breathing.
