Art Class

Evan wanders his way towards art class. He’s exhausted from the week of morning classes and night shifts. He’s seated in his desk before he notices the big words on the blackboard infront of the class.

“MEN STAY STANDING. WOMEN BE SEATED.”

Evan shrugs and meanders towards the group of guys chatting in the back of the classroom. However, as soon as Mrs. Tea enters she rushes every man to the center of the room, where there is a stage for the model of what we’d be drawing that day. It seemed pretty clear what’d be happening to Evan, and he felt his penis twitch as he thought about the nude models he’d already painted.

“Now boys, do you think you were sneaky with your crude remarks of the models?”

Evan stood up straight, as did most of the guys, at this. It was true, most of the boys would gather after class to ridicule the models’ bodies, and without bothering to wait for them to leave either. It was horrible.

“And did you really think I’d be the teacher to overlook it?”

Mrs. Tea was being unusually professional, but she was known to put her foot down firmly when she knew who was in the wrong. And she knew exactly what we said about those models, it seemed. She went to each boy and told them what she heard them say. Finally she turned to me.

“Evan, you seem to think every model could have a bigger penis. Pin dick this, shriveled balls that. But I’ve also heard you list bearly every insecurity in the book when trying to insult my models. I’m especially interested in how well kept you’ve kept your model.”

And slowly, Mrs. Tea set up each man into a pose and brought a specific woman to paint him. Once everyone was set up and comfortable in their positions, she gave the commandment that we were all curious for.

“Boys. Strip.” And of course there were outcries, Mrs. Tea simply replied in a speech about how it was a shame we were denied the dignity of the model’s robes, but we would simply have to deal with taking each piece of clothing off one and by one.

And we did.