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It was inevitable that I'd be caught. I thought it might happen when I was spying on athletes in the shower or maybe by my manager at the motel. It wasn't.

After Professor Marston photographed Marcy and other young black women, she started to photograph male black students. She shot them in various stages of undress; even naked, even naked with an erection.

One day a gorgeous black student with an erection that most women would die to become familiar with was posing for Professor Marston. I was in my usual spot and if I wasn't at work, my hand would be in my panties. I slipped off the stool I was sitting on and bars of soap, bottles of shampoo etc. fell off the shelves. I was trying to get a better look at that guy's cock. That's how impressive it was.

As I started to put things back, Professor Marston burst open the door to the maids' station. "So, it's you. I've had a feeling someone's been watching us. I'll deal with you in a minute, let me take care of my model."

I heard her apologize to the young man, told him to get dressed and plan on coming back tomorrow.

Then she was back in the maids' station. "How long have you been spying on me and my students?" Before I could answer, "haven't I seen you around campus, aren't you a student?"

"Yes, but . . ."

"I could have you arrested. You'll lose your job. I can probably have you thrown out of school."

She was right on all counts. "What's your name? What time do you get off work?"

"I'm Wanda Hamright. I get finished at six."

"Meet me in the studio."

I hung my head in shame. "Yes, ma'am."

A little after six, after I'd changed from my maid's outfit, I knocked on the door of Professor Marston's studio. "It's open."

She was sitting on the bed, and there was a desk chair opposite her. For the next hour, she interrogated me.

When I say, interrogated, she wanted to know everything I'd seen. I told her about all the models I'd seen her shoot including Paulie and Marcy. She was shocked but kept her composure. And she took notes.

"So, you're the female version of a Peeping Tom?"

"I suppose."

"Do you do this anywhere else?"

By the time she was done with me, I'd confessed to watching men in the shower at the athletic facility; even at home using my dad's binoculars and when I worked at the motel back there. Professor Marston had three pages of notes.

"What shall I do with you? Like I said, I could have you arrested and since you've confessed that you've been doing this for years you might get jail time. I'm certain that prison won't be kind to a young woman like yourself."

"Please, Professor, I'll do anything." As soon as I said it, I knew I'd made another mistake.

"Well, you're not unattractive. Perhaps, I could use you as a model. Let's see what you look like. Take off your shirt and jeans."

I was reluctant, but the thought of possibly going to jail ran through my mind.

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