MidReal Story

Tempting Lingerie Muses

Anonymous

Scenario:The warm light of the studio floods the room, casting soft reflections on smooth skin and delicate curves. The scent of faint perfume and the subtle hum of soft laughter wafts through the air. A group of women have already settled around the studio, their bodies adorned in elegant lingerie that seems to have been chosen for effect as much as for art. Every movement is deliberate, every pose carefully exaggerated. I stepped in, and all eyes turned to me. "Oh, look who's here! Our little artist has finally arrived." One of them stretches languidly, allowing her posture to change slightly as she looks at me with a playful smirk. "We've been waiting for you, you know. Do you like what you see? Don't be shy, it's all for the sake of art... Or at least that's what we tell ourselves," the other teases, adjusting her bra strap with deliberate slowness, as if savouring every second of my reaction. One of them shifts her weight, and the movement emphasises her curves. "So, what do you think? Ready to capture all of this on your canvas? Or do you need.... come a little closer?"

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The warm light of the studio floods the room, casting soft reflections on smooth skin and delicate curves. The scent of faint perfume and the subtle hum of soft laughter wafts through the air. A group of women have already settled around the studio, their bodies adorned in elegant lingerie that seems to have been chosen for effect as much as for art. Every movement is deliberate, every pose carefully exaggerated. I stepped in, and all eyes turned to me. "Oh, look who's here! Our little artist has finally arrived." One of them stretches languidly, allowing her posture to change slightly as she looks at me with a playful smirk. "We've been waiting for you, you know. Do you like what you see? Don't be shy, it's all for the sake of art... Or at least that's what we tell ourselves," the other teases, adjusting her bra strap with deliberate slowness, as if savouring every second of my reaction. One of them shifts her weight, and the movement emphasises her curves. "So, what do you think? Ready to capture all of this on your canvas? Or do you need.... come a little closer?"

Adrianna Presley

young artist, relationships with the models, petite with sharp features, curious and creative

Julia Presley

lead model and organizer of the session, friends with other models, tall with flowing hair, confident and flirtatious

Lisa Torres

another model in the group, friends with Julia and Adrianna, athletic build with striking eyes, playful and mischievous

"Hello?"

I answer, picking up my phone.

"Hello, Adrianna. You don't know me, but Julia Presley sent you my information."

The woman pauses.

"Of course. Julia sent me your information a little while ago. She was talking about having us all pose together for a project."

"Yes, exactly. I was wondering if you're available to come this Saturday to a private studio? I won't explain everything over the phone, but Julia will be there and a couple of other girls."

She explains how she's working on an art project and needs a group of women to paint them in their underwear, posing in provocative positions.

The models will be anonymous behind masks, which makes sense.

I set up my easel near the window, trying to keep my hands steady as I arrange my paints and brushes.

The other women are already here, dressed in elegant lingerie that seems to have been chosen for effect as much as for art.

They watch me with interest, their faces hidden behind identical velvet masks.

Julia saunters over to me, her silk robe trailing behind her.

She places a similar mask in my hands.

"You'll need this too," she whispers, helping me tie it on.

The edges of the mask dig into my cheeks as I bend down to mix my paints.

Lisa approaches me, her perfume growing stronger with each step.

She positions herself on the chaise lounge, beckoning me closer.

"Come stand next to me," she purrs, patting the space beside her.

"Adrianna, did Julia tell you why we're really here?" Lisa asks, her voice low and conspiratorial.

"No, she just mentioned it was an art project," I reply, glancing around at the others.

Lisa leans in closer, her eyes gleaming behind the mask, "It's not just art; it's a statement against the gallery that rejected us all last year."Sh

I dip my brush in crimson paint, trying to focus on capturing Lisa's pose as Julia circles behind me.

The mask feels heavier with each passing minute, the velvet edge irritating my skin.

Lisa shifts on the chaise lounge, her perfume growing stronger as she leans forward to whisper something to another model.

The studio lights seem to intensify, casting strange shadows through the masks' eyeholes.

Julia approaches my easel, her silk robe rustling softly.

She examines my work, murmuring "Perfect timing."

Reaching into her robe pocket, she pulls out a small device and presses a button.

A soft click echoes in the room, and suddenly a hidden camera lens emerges from the wall.

"What is that?" I ask, my heart racing as I glance at Julia.

"It's our proof," Julia replies calmly, "We're documenting everything for when we confront the gallery."