Page 7 of Painted

Then he raised his eyes and looked at Early. At all of them. There was no mistaking the way Rhys’s gaze swept from Early’s head to their toes, then shifted back to linger in the middle.

Please don’t get hard, please don’t get hard, please don’t get hard.

Weirdly enough, the incessant scratching of charcoal pencils on newsprint calmed Early’s impending freak-out. It was such an art class kind of sound. They closed their eyes for a moment and imagined themselves sitting at the easel instead of being where they were. If the roles were reversed, they wouldn’t have been judgy about the person posing. In fact, they would have been impressed by their bravery.

“Switch poses, please,” Rhys said, causing Early to open their eyes.

They did as Rhys asked, switching from an admittedly shy sitting pose to leaning back a little and twisting to one side. The robe slipped all the way off one of their shoulders, exposing their entire side.

Had they worked out enough? Did the people looking at them expect to see some buff, masculine body? Was that what they wanted to look like? They didn’t hate working out and sometimes went jogging, but mostly for health. It wasn’t like they hated their male body. A lot of soul-searching in the past few years had brought them to the conclusion that they weren’t trans. They just weren’t…male.

“Good. Another position?” Rhys’s voice cut into their thoughts again.

Early sat up a bit, sweeping one leg back and gripping the front of the block, as if they were peeking over the edge of a cliff or something. The robe slid dangerously close to falling off their other shoulder.

Their body was male, and they were okay with that. They were working on the mental gymnastics behind knowing that just because someone was assigned a male body at birth, that didn’t mean they were a man. They had a lot of moments where they were convinced their soul was something far more feminine than their appearance. But not female.

It was confusing.

“Switch positions?” Rhys said.

Early sucked in a breath and twisted again, leaning back and bracing themselves on both hands, like they were sunning themselves on a rock. The robe fell off their shoulders entirely, and before they could think about what they were doing, they opened their legs a little bit.

Oh God oh God oh God! Everyone can see my junk!

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Rhys’s voice sounded from somewhere behind them, making them realize they’d shut their eyes again.

What were they thinking? They were confused about their own body, what they liked about it and what they didn’t. They were too skinny, not soft enough, too small in some places and too big in others. Fuck, their feet were enormous!

They forced themselves to breathe, just like Rhys had said. Maybe the whole public exposure thing would force them to think about their body image and come to terms with things, like people who were afraid of flying going up in an airplane to help them get over it. Maybe the fact that no one had fled the room screaming so far or burst into uproarious laughter was a sign that they weren’t as hideous or confusing as they sometimes thought they were.

“Switch poses,” Rhys said. “Maybe standing up this time? How about an action pose.”

Early nodded tightly and stood. The robe slid off their arms completely, and they shook it aside as they stood.

For half a second, they didn’t have any idea how to move or position themselves. Then the bloody Rodin statue The Thinker popped into their mind. They put one leg up on the block and curled their arm into the thinking pose, resting their chin on their hand.

Of course, that left pretty much everything hanging out to one side of the classroom and his arse on full display to the other.

This was such a terrible idea.

“Another pose,” Rhys said a few minutes later, his voice rough.

Fuck. A rough voice? What did that mean? Was Rhys disgusted?

Was he turned on?

Fuck, fuck, fuck,fuck!

“One more pose,” Rhys said, what felt like just a few seconds later.

Well, it was too late now. The mystery was gone. The world could see they had a round butt and a smaller-than-average dick. There was no point in holding back now.

They shifted the foot they had up on the block and pivoted their body to move into something that was sort of like a warrior yoga pose. They moved one arm back as if they were about to throw a javelin. Hopefully, that javelin would sail back in time and hit them in the head before they opened their big mouth and said they’d pose for Rhys.

For Rhys’s class.

“Good. You can relax for a second,” Rhys said.

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