Nudist

My name is Kyle Morgan, and this is my story. I was you average college kid who was down on his funds trying to make the most money he could. That’s why I took an ad in the paper to be an art model for a local artist. It paid a hundred dollars per session so how could I say no?

The artist was an older man, but still easy on the eyes. He had streaks of silver in his beard and slicked back hair but had a muscular body. He said he wanted to do a series of full body portraits that had me wearing less clothes in each one till I was completely naked.

I was nervous and wanted to turn it down but the artist started complementing my body and saying how I was his perfect scenario. I struggled not to blush and said if he doubled the price I’d accept. He agreed almost instantly.

We got to work quickly and he painted the first one in four hours. It was so hyperrealistic I couldn’t believe how fast he worked. He paid me for the session and we parted ways till the next time.

This is when it got strange. I got the second portrait done, this one I did without a shirt. However when I went to leave my shirt was gone. I asked the artist where it was and he said he didn’t touch it. It was nowhere to be found and I had to walk home without a shirt on. I was a pretty fit guy so I was ogled a lot on the way. When I got home I found that all my shirts were gone. And anytime I bought a shirt it would vanish!

It got even worse when I woke up the next morning with no pants or shorts to wear. I had nothing but underwear! I snuck my way back to the artists studio to find he already painted a picture of me in nothing but my underwear! He was making it so I could only wear what I had on in the paintings! But how!?

I found the artist working one last painting and I was me completely naked! I begged him to stop but he only laughed!

“Your my muse! And you must be admired by all! In all your glory!”

I ran away from him as he laughed and painted. By the time he finished I was outside on the streets. My righty whites vanished into thin air and I frantically tried to cover myself. The public looked to me. Some laughed, some whistled, some complemented my physique. I could only scream in horror as the artist made it so I could never wear clothes again.

The artist really meant it when he said I was his muse. He ended up painting hundreds of pictures of me exposed in humiliating and sexual situations that come to life for me. The paintings are all over the world in famous galleries where they get viewed by thousands of people a day. And I walk the earth, forever nude and exposed for all to see.