FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Nude, But Never Naked

By: DankeDonuts

https://dankedonuts.sofurry.com/

Featuring an illustration by: Storm-Engineer

https://www.furaffinity.net/user/storm-engineer/

The last things to come off were Rebecca's stockings. One hoof to the stool, and a roll of thickly hooves, then the other. She placed these atop a neatly folded pile of clothes, which had been growing on a wall-length shelf. A surface covered I nicks, blotches, and pigmented bugs. As she supposed an art class storage room -- and impromptu changing room - should be. Beside that pile, a folded robe. Yellow and fuzzy and soft, a high school graduation present from a relative who had considered the practical needs of a soon-to-be college gal on her own. This she picked up, and put on, before her silver legs moved to the door.

She stopped short them moment she touched the knob..

'I've never shown myself off to stallion, and here I am about to bare myself in front of a room full of Furs.'

Oh, she's been naked around others before. But this wasn't like the showers after Gym, back in highschool or over at her own college. Everyone rushing around to get their business done, and trying their very best not to notice each other from the neck down. No. The twenty or thirty Furs on the other side of the door would be looking at her. Really looking. Memorizing her features, if only long enough to set them down for all time in swipes of charcoal or what-have-you.

Rebecca knew she was expected, though. She opened the door.

The room she entered was long and wide, and covered along the sides with standees, shelves, sinks, and countless half-finished works. The block situated in the middle of the space - which she was to stand and lay and sit upon -- was stark white, and surrounded by smaller ones. It was low and long and wide, a miniature stage. Populated with a lamp on a table, a black wicker chair covered in candy-orange drapery, more blocks that were also covered in wavy cloth. Art classes, if one could judge by the examples out in the hall, were big on detailing cast shadows. As further evidenced by the portable light sources situated here and there. She'd seen it all before, between classes when the room was empty.

Now, it was surrounded on all sides by Furs. The mare tried to not notice them, but there was no ignoring that on a direct path to the block and chair and lamp and drapes, she'd have to pass between an Ocelot and a Sugar Glider. Who, small mercy, were not carrying on a conversation with each other.

The pair of them were getting closer. But maybe not fast enough for the teacher's liking? And maybe Rebecca's pulse was racing a little too loudly? A little, tiny piece of her mid was angling for the double-door. Run away, while you still can, clothes and pay be damned! The part of her brain that was still operating the legs was pressing forward, set on fulfilling promises made. To try new things, break out of her shell, respect the contract she'd signed. Another piece, a tad more cynical than the rest, was wondering how the Hell Wendy had talked her into trying this.

"Don't ever think of it as being naked,' came the Fennic's remembered advice. "'Naked' means exposed. 'Naked' means vublerable, helpless. When you're posing for an artist, or a class, you are none of those things. You're the reason they're there; to make something beautiful, or at least figure out how. And they are the ones who are going to feel naked if they squander the opportunity!"

The veteran's words carried the amateur the rest of the way to the little stage. With calmer pulse and quiet breaths. The white blocks tapped a hollow melody under her hooves. All of a sudden, she was there. Surrounded. Lights in teasing her eyes. The smell of wax and carbon in her nose. Growing silence in her ears as students turned away from their chatmates and silenced their smartphones.

Rebecca removed her robe.