Recalling the other part of this ensemble which had always worked well, she retrieved the white crop top from another drawer. Dare she even wear such a thing? It would mean no bra of course but... She eyed the whole effect in the mirror and felt a sudden panic. But also a sudden surge of something almost sexual. 'Yes, this'll teach him,' she thought.
Before she could change her mind she made her determined way to the shed.
***
"Ah, here she is," said Steve as the door opened. "Oh, for Christ-"
Natasha had decided to play high status and brimming with confidence, the very opposite of what she was feeling. She entered the dimly lit shed and introduced herself, fully cognisant of the thinly veiled lechery in the eyes of the two strangers.
"Bit dark isn't it, Daddy?"
"Um, yes, I haven't turned the big light on yet. Are you sure you're OK with this, we can probably paint apples or-"
"Fuck that!" exclaimed Ray. "I'm not wasting time on no stinking fruit."
Steve switched on the powerful daylight lamp and the room instantly became bright and cheerful.
"OK, so we'll start as normal with a few action sketches. Remember you're after a gesture here, the lines should be dynamic and flowing. Use charcoal or pencil and don't even attempt any kind of likeness. More like a stick drawing. Natasha we'll be posing you at one minute intervals, so it shouldn't be too taxing."
Feeling slightly uncomfortable he moved his daughter to the floor and asked her to put her hands behind her head. He bent her knees and turned her face away.
"OK the minute starts NOW."
Natasha felt the burning stare of the three artists as she faced the wall. She was somewhat aware that the crop top had ridden up slightly and she tried to shimmy it back without moving too much.
"Try and keep still if you can, Natasha."
This was going to be harder than she imagined. Thankfully the minute soon passed. However there was no time to reflect, as Jim was now called upon to set the next pose.
Jim encouraged her to stand and then moved her feet apart about a metre. He twisted her torso to her right and in doing so lightly grazed her breast with his thumb. Then he moved her arms in the air as if she were catching a football.
This time there was no escaping the fact that her top had ridden up two inches and the underside of her breasts was clearly visible. Nobody mentioned it however so she held the position for a minute that seemed somehow much longer.
"OK Ray, your turn."
Ray turned her to face the wall, in doing so he casually groped her breasts through her top as though it was standard procedure in model posing technique, and then tilted her body forwards, hands resting on the chair. He kneeled behind her and spread her feet apart.
Natasha couldn't be sure whether that grope had been deliberate. Her nipples poked through her top as she wantonly thrust her bottom in the air for one minute.
"OK good, both of you are getting a lot of action in your sketches. We'll have one more round of that, and then I suggest a quick break while I go to the loo."
Steve tried to restore a bit of order in the posing and sat her down on the chair, her legs crossed. He moved one of her hands behind her head and had the other pointing in Ray's direction.
Natasha's nipples were still very hard, and she felt them straining against the thinnish material of her top. As she looked at Ray he adjusted himself ostentatiously, clearly erect in his pale trousers.
Jim asked if she could do the splits. Natasha said she would try, then realised that the shorts were a bit too tight to allow a full stretch. He said no worries and undid the top button and lowered the zip about half way, letting his finger slide between the denim and her panties, discreetly brushing her mound.
Natasha managed about 140 degrees split, the white waist of her panties visible to all.
Ray had her sitting backwards in the chair, facing away from the artists. Out of view of the others he scooched up her top and mauled her breasts greedily, tweaking her hard nipples before pulling the top down again. Before taking to his easel he pulled Natasha's face forward and ground his groin into her face making sure she could feel his urgent need.
Finally this part of the session was over. Steve hurried to the bathroom and Jim busied himself with preparing his materials for the painting part of the day, selecting various colours and oil based media. He went to his car retrieve a new tube of Titanium White.
In the bathroom Steve wondered what on earth she was playing at, flaunting herself like that. He was sure she was getting back at him for some reason, why else would she be so provocative?
It had taken less than 30 seconds for Ray to force his cock into her mouth and fill it with cum. She was, let's say, not entirely unwilling.
Steve and Jim came back in just as Ray was setting up his canvas.
"OK Tash, these poses will be 20 minutes, we'll do two and then break for lunch. Jim?"
Jim sat her down and asked her to drape one leg over the chair leg. Her hair needed to cascade covering half her face. Jim surveyed his pose critically.
"Hmmm, not quite right," he said, and grabbed her thigh to move it further back over the chair leg. In doing so he allowed his thumb to creep under the leg of her shorts and under her knickers as though by accident, sliding it along her wet slit. Satisfied they began painting.
For 20 minutes Natasha sat there, mind wandering, her wet panties just visible up the leg of her shorts. Furthermore her mouth still had a trickle of Ray's cum dripping from the side. Did she know? Did she care? Right now she just yearned for a big fat cock inside her. These men, just groping her and taking what they wanted. In front of her father as well. Had he noticed anything? He must have....
"Natasha."
"Sorry, what?"
"Next pose. Ray wants you stood up please. Can you stand for 20 minutes?"
She gave him a withering look, and stood up waiting for Ray to do his thing.
Ray opted for a straightforward pose, legs a little apart, chest jutting and thumbs hooked into the waist of her shorts. But he wasn't happy.
He once again unbuttoned the shorts, but this time took the zipper all the way down and peeled back the two halves. He stretched the material forward and guided her thumbs into the waist band of her knickers, leaving her fingers trailing over the reversed denim.
The pose caused Natasha's panties to pull down slightly revealing a fringe of dark pubic hair.
As the time wore on Natasha began to tire and her hands collapsed a little, by the end of the 20 minutes most of her pubic mound was on show.
When 20 minutes was up Steve called lunch. Natasha re-organised her attire and surveyed the work of the artists. In fact they were pretty good, erotic but not explicit, and very skilfully done.
Steve sidled up beside her while the other two prepared the sandwiches and wine.
"Look, I know you're 18 and you can do what you want, but you might want to tone it down a bit eh?"
She fluttered her lashes and asked what he meant.
"Hmm, just, you know. Maybe forget the shorts, go and put a nice skirt on or something. And a decent blouse."
"OK daddy," she said slyly.
Taking a slurp of red wine she hurried back to her bedroom. She knew exactly what she was going to wear for the anatomy lesson
...
Lesson 2 - Anatomy
It's probably safe to say that everybody understood the game now. Left unspoken, each player simply maintained the illusion of propriety and innocence. That's not to say anything was pre-planned.
Natasha's father and his two friends were ready with notepads. Anatomy was rather dreary but very important. Natasha was about to make it less dreary at least.
She surveyed herself in the mirror. her school uniform had not been required for a year or so, but it still almost fitted. The skirt, a red plaid, was perhaps shorter than she remembered, but the blouse accentuated her perky breasts and nipples beautifully. Although not strictly uniform she went braless. The old school tie set it all off nicely.
They used to have a little game at school where they would mock one of the inspirational speakers who had visited them with careers advice. She smiled as she repeated his embarrassing, patronising words at her reflection.
"You just get out there girl, get out there and make a bloody difference, yeah?"
