Chapter 30: Chapter 30 – Natalie joins the mod squad

"While I get things ready, why don't you pull up your status and tell me about any changes? I know you've leveled to 5." He started tugging the dining table out from the wall.

I'd received a lot of notifications over the course of the day, but I'd only really paid attention to the ones most relevant at the time - mainly quests. Though it made sense that I would have leveled given how many of those I'd completed, I'd missed the fact that I had.

"Let's see," I said. "I'm at 285 XP out of 300 to get to Level 6. I have two free attribute points and two free skill points."

"Hmm. The XP requirement jumped up. I only expected it to be 250."

I didn't respond because he was clearly talking to himself, not to me.

"Your only skill is Enhanced Memory, right, and it's at Level 2?"

"Yeah."

"What happens if you try to allocate a skill point?"

I tried it.

"It only gives me the option to increase the level of the skill I already have."

"Hmm. As I suspected. Don't choose that option yet." Hugh had grabbed few pots and pans and other kitchen items and put them on the table and was arranging them around his phone. "Stand by the wall and face me."

As I took the position he indicated - I was nothing if not an obedient naked girlfriend - I asked, "What are you doing with your phone, anyway?"

"In an ideal world, I would take a series of pictures with you in a certain place and position for each one before the change and in that exact place and position for each after the change. The camera lens, too, needs to be completely stationary. That way, we could compare the two and even overlay the images to determine what, if anything, changed with your body or face or whatever from one condition to the next," he said. "Obviously, we can't get your position to be exact to any true degree of precision, but we'll do the best we can and hope it works. Same with the phone. I'm making a stand to get it to the height I want and then using these other items to stabilize it so that, hopefully, when I gently press the button to take the picture, it doesn't move."

Wow, he'd put a lot more thought into this than I'd figured. I honestly thought he was taking these pictures just because he wanted to.

No. That was for later. I shuddered. Any pose he wanted. God!

"Please stand as straight as possible," he commanded. "Back against the wall, arms by your side."

I took a deep breath and positioned myself against the wall. The backs of my head and shoulder and my behind touched it. The coolness radiating onto my skin served to emphasize that I was completely naked. Vulnerable. Not protected from the elements or from view or, most critically at that moment, from the camera lens.

This was really about to happen. As soon as Hugh pressed that button, there would exist in the world a digital image of me totally nude from the tip of my big toe to the top of my head. Well, except for the glasses, anyway.

He frowned.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm thinking you should take off the glasses."

"I thought you liked my glasses!"

"I do!" he said emphatically. "You're super cute. Reminds me of images I’ve seen online of a girl cosplaying as super sexy Velma. Yeah. That’s what you are, my naked Velma. I loved exploring all your mysteries."

Great. Now my cheeks were going to be all red for the picture. Not that anyone except Hugh was ever going to see it. Hopefully.

What would it even feel like anyway to have naked photos of me out there on the internet? Knowing that every man and woman I passed on the street or had a class with or, later in life, worked at a job with might have seen me naked? A shiver went through me, and I noticed that my nipples were standing proud.

“Hey,” he said, apparently realizing something. “That might be another avenue of quests to explore. How would you feel about dressing up in costumes? Maybe something that’s a little revealing for outside and then super revealing for me privately? Like, for Velma, you could do orange knee socks and a really short skirt and a crop top. Then, when we got back here, you could take off everything except the glasses and the knee socks for me.”

His pants twitched.

Going out in public dressed in a way that was clearly meant to be overtly sexy sounding mortifying. Everyone would look at me and think that I wanted them looking at me.

The me of a couple of days ago would have refused without a question. The me of today just nodded. Anything that made him react that way was good. The embarrassment it would lead to was a problem for Future Natalie.

On the other hand, I really didn’t like the direction of his thoughts. Public was bad. Best to distract him.

"If you like the glasses so much, why do you want me to take them off?" I asked.

"I'm worried that they'll obscure any potential changes to your eyes."

"Fine." I handed them to him, and the world descended into a jumbled mess of mixed colors. "But please know that I don't like taking them off. Everything is just a blur without them."

"I understand. Thanks for doing it."

I found myself wanting to get mad at him simply because being defiant seemed to ease my embarrassment at doing this kind of stuff, but he was making it difficult by being so accepting and gracious.

"One last thing and we'll be ready," he said. "Pick an expression - doesn't matter which one - and try to hold it as much as possible for all eight shots."

Great. Like this wasn't hard enough. I ended up kind of half smiling. When I saw the images later, it almost looked like I was smirking. Definitely not what I was going for.

Click.

There it went. A digital picture was forever. My nude form from my small breasts to my shaved slit and everything in between, above, and below was now immortalized.

"Perfect," he said. "While keeping your feet from moving from that spot any more than you absolutely have to, rotate ninety degrees to your right."

Sure. Why not? He already has a picture of me full frontal. What was adding a profile shot, too? I mean, sure he'd have a photo that demonstrated exactly how little my boobs stuck out, but what was a slight increase in my level of mortification at this point?

I didn't raise a single objection, though. I'd agreed to do it, and I just had to woman up and live with my commitment. I'd grit my teeth and quite literally bare it for these eight shots - strictly for scientific purposes! - and ten more for his pleasure. I would not complain no matter how much I wanted to.

Click.

Per his next instruction, I turned to face away from him.

Click.

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Yep. A picture of my naked butt. At least this one didn't show my face. I quickly rotated another ninety degrees.

Click.

I let out a breath as I completed my rotation. Other than the terror that these photos might eventually be seen by anyone other than Hugh, posing for that set hadn't been too bad.

"Okay," he said. "Make the change."

I went to my status and concentrated on moving one of the free attribute points into CHA and confirmed the choice. Just like always, the numbers changed on the screen, but I didn't really feel any different.

"Interesting," he said. "It's very subtle, but I think you do look different. Just your face and hair, though. It'll be interesting to see the side by side comparisons."

I'd apparently slumped a little while dealing with the stats because he told me to straighten up.

Click.

Turn.

Click.

Turn.

Click.

Turn.

Click.

Final turn back to face the front.

"Fantastic," he said. "You're the best naked model I've ever had."

"I better be the only naked model you've ever had."

He laughed. "Hey, before I run the analysis, try to allocate your free skill point again and let me know what happens."

"Oh. Cool," I said. "It gave me a new choice."

He said something about what that told us about how the system worked, letting you either choose to add a level to an existing skill or pick a new one once the user increased an attribute, but I wasn't paying much attention. I couldn't help but be intrigued by that skill, Body Modification (Cosmetic). Logically, that sounded like it would let me change my body, right? And hadn't I spent much of the day lamenting my lack of curves?

A small part of me shouted a loud warning that, maybe, using a strange, magical system that seems to have its own motivations to make real, actual, permanent cosmetic changes to my body wasn't a good idea. Not gonna lie; I completely ignored that voice.

Hey, I wanted to be braver and not live my life based on fear, right? Besides. it was between that and increasing Enhanced Memory to Level 3. I hadn't even been to class yet since I'd gained that skill, but, given how easily I’d completed my homework, I felt good about where I was regarding improving my performance in school. After all, it wasn't like I was a moron or anything or that I was failing my classes. It was just that I had to work ultra hard to make good grades.

So if one was to ignore the opportunity costs of not applying that free skill point to future skills, picking the new option was definitely the right call. Definitely.

Without saying a word to Hugh, I did just that.

The new skill, just like most of the system features, worked by intent. By simply concentrating on it, I got the impression that I could slightly reshape my body. So I did. My bust, obviously, got increased the maximum allowed. My stomach, I left alone. It honestly couldn't have gotten much flatter, and I wasn't really too keen on the idea of giving myself a six pack that I hadn't earned or anything. I did add just a little oomph to my hips and made my butt cheeks jut out more. Everything else, I was okay with, and even if I wasn't, I was reluctant to change more than the absolute essentials.

Excited, I locked in the changes.

"What just happened?" Hugh asked immediately.

"Why?"

"I swear your body just morphed slightly." He frowned. "Are your breasts bigger?"

I looked down and grinned. They definitely were. Still on the smaller side, but I'd been barely a B-cup before. Now I judged that I was on the larger end of that size.

I told him about the new skill and what I'd done. He expressed a little concern about my body image but, ultimately, didn't say too much because it was totally my choice.

I'd taken a risk and nothing had happened to really make me regret my impulsiveness.

That was, anyway, until he said, "We have to take more pictures."

"What? Why?"

"To analyze exactly what changed."

I couldn't help but notice that he'd never seemed interesting in measuring how much my memory improved. Now that testing involved taking naked pictures of me, it was suddenly critical to do experiments.

"Eight pictures," I said. "That was the deal."

"Fine," he said. "The new set can come out of the ten you owe me."

He looked so disappointed though, like a puppy I'd just kicked - not that I have ever or would ever do such a thing! I would not give in this time. Nope. Not going to happen. Reducing the number of whatever poses he had in mind for me to do down to six sounded good to me.

I blew out a breath. "Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"You can take the new pictures," I said. "I'm not going to make you use any of your precious ten."

I was such a softy.

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