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The original was posted on /r/goodanimemes by /u/PauloDybala_10 on 2026-07-04 20:52:01+00:00.

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/grammpapi on 2026-07-04 17:42:14+00:00.

I'm posting this because I need some help. I've tried everything, hot water soak, cold water shower, aloe vera. 

Let me explain. 

I recently got back from holiday, it was lovely, great food and brilliant people. 

Except for getting sun burnt.

 I was the only ginger in my friendship group. Probably the only ginger on the entire Greek island. But I refused to be left out just because of some sun. I still went to the beach everyday with my friends, drinking beers and having a laugh. My friends kept moaning telling me to put on more suncream, but I hadn't flown all that way to hide myself in the shade. 

It wasn't until I got home I realised how badly I'd burnt. I arrived back somewhat pink and tender, radiating heat. I spent the next couple of days lathering up with aloevera gel. 

It must've been 2 days later. I was back at work, back to reality, when I started to peel.

 It started small, pulling thin patches from my shoulders. They came off with ease, it was like taking the screen protector off a new phone.

 I was engrossed.

Then I pulled the perfect part, from the elbow straight down my forearm and over the back of my hand.

 I laid it out.

 I stared at it.

 It was perfect. 

My hand was wonderful to peel, I'd find an edge beginning to lift and peel it back delicately. I could see my freckles in it, the tiny grooves of my fingerprints, even the way it would stretch around an old scar. There would be a slight bit of tension before release, revealing a softer, newer flesh underneath. 

I'd taken to rubbing my feet together before bed, scratching away at an itch that I could never quite get. For some reason I found this comforting. I would drift off softly chasing the sensation. 

One morning I stood with my back to the shower, I'd neglected the loose skin there that I couldn't reach. The water found an opening on my shoulder and ran beneath the skin. I could feel the warm water spreading between my skin and back, it ballooned out and sagged before it finally split.

 I stood and watched as skin, wasted, washed down the drain. 

But when I really think about it, that could've been one of my best pulls.

From then on I would pull the unreachable bits with some kitchen tongs and some good stretching in the mirror. For the itch I rubbed my back against the door frame, I thought about stopping when the lock scraped so hard it drew blood.

 For a moment the itch disappeared.

I went to work until they asked me to stop coming in. At first, I think they were concerned. People had mentioned I was getting thinner. 

Then concern turned to disgust. 

I heard people whispering that I smelt rotten. Of course they were exaggerating, a little BO at most. I just hadn't showered properly in a while.

People started to wonder why I was at work with a long sleeve shirt. I told people I was embarrassed by the peeling.

 Truth is, I knew I wouldn't be able to resist pulling away at it at work. I'd be typing away and small pieces would flake off and land on my desk.

 I was missing out.

 I had to sneak to the bathroom and pull a few pieces for myself. It was better than any cigarette break I ever had. 

It was only a problem if I got a good piece. One time at work, my sock had made an indent around my leg, it made the perfect edge, slickly it pulled right up my calf all the way to my knee. 

I had to sneak it home. I kept it in my lunchbox so it wouldn't get damaged.

 It's my favourite piece in my collection. It took some of my tattoo with it.

 It looks beautiful. 

The layers seemed to get more red, more vibrant as more layers peeled off. With every layer my tattoos seemed to get brighter. Newer. Then parts of them began disappearing with skin I pulled away. Eventually I had none. 

A fresh canvas.

Then came the harder bits.

  I started using some tweezers to get in the tight spaces, my knuckles were tougher, they peeled off in callus lumps. But they preserved all the little creases and folds of the joint. I liked those. 

I peeled far enough down one finger that I finally reached the nail bed. Then I found the edge beneath the nail. 

Once I had the edge, it peeled off effortlessly. They'd been so itchy. 

I was never truly worried until I woke up and found my little toe in the corner of my fitted sheet. There was no blood. It had simply come off in the night.

 I put it in my collection, honestly I was unsure what to do with it, I didn't think it was truly collection worthy. Unlike my big toe, that felt collection worthy.

I didn't have to worry anyway, it wasn't long before I had a full collection.

I couldn't help but spend the whole day peeling, it was captivating, more captivating than work or anything else had ever been. 

Night started to roll in when my stomach grumbled and woke me from an itching daze. I looked at my hand, I peeled and scratched it completely raw.

My eye was caught. I could still see a piece, wedged in the corner of my knuckle.

I had a dental utensil. A long thin metal point, when i wasnt scratching the gaps in my teeth, I used it for small, awkward, unrewarding bits like this.

This was the first time I made it to the bone.

 This bit was deeper than others. When I hooked the point beneath it and pulled there was resistance. A sharp pinch. For a moment I thought I'd finally gotten it. Then the itch returned. I wasn't as disappointed as I should've been. 

But it was deeper this time. Inside the bone. 

I'm writing this with my right thumb, it's the only finger that still works on the screen. I'm lying in bed listening to the krrk… krrk… krrk of my feet rubbing together. They don’t feel soft anymore. But still it soothes me for a moment. 

The itch is everywhere now. I can feel it all over me, it's in my bones, I grind my teeth together trying to reach the itch inside them, but it's never enough. 

My left hand is bone, but it still itches. I stare at it when I drift off. It might be the light, but I swear I can see edges beginning to lift. 

 I don't want to run out.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/GrungeSeabunny on 2026-07-04 11:08:12+00:00.

It was three months into the school year, and I was already unravelling. The combination of admin being on my ass and my illiterate students caused icy bitterness to replace the blood in my veins. My wife, Wren, saw the stress slowly replacing my skin and suggested we take a day to go to the beach. Of course, I protested; I still had thirty worksheets to grade. She refused to take no for an answer, and before I knew it, we were at the beach in matching sage green bikinis.

I sat on my tattered beach chair while Wren tanned on a towel next to me. "Close your laptop," she said, "it'll overheat."

"I have to answer these emails," I replied as my fingers danced across my keyboard. I hit send and immediately opened my next unread message.

After catching my daughter reading an inappropriate book, I investigated the complete list of books you assigned your students. I am APPALLED at the blasphemous and borderline pornographic books you've suggested to your students. I will be contacting the administration about this to ensure you suffer the fullest consequences.

Sincerely,

Emma's mother.

I closed my laptop with a deep sigh.

"That bad?" Wren asked as she sat up and took off her tortoise-shell sunglasses.

"It's actually my fault for thinking The Picture of Dorian Gray was a suitable book for seventeen-year-olds." I scoffed.

"I thought this state loved the gays."

"Not anymore, it doesn't." I stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Wren pointed at the calm ocean waves. "Bathroom's that way."

Before I could walk to the nearest crab-shack, a man in a three-piece suit and a briefcase approached us.

"Excuse me," he said. "I'm sorry to bother you ladies, but I couldn't help but notice how beautiful you both are."

Wren and I shared a quick look. "Thank you?" I said tentatively.

He put the palm of his hand on his chest. "My name is Howard. I run a local modeling company, and you ladies would be perfect models for our website."

"Modeling?" Wren questioned as she stood up.

"Modeling! Say, what size shoe do you ladies wear?"

"Um," I started, glancing at Wren again, trying to gauge if she was as weirded out as I was. "We both wear a seven and a half."

"PERFECT! My company could use girls like you. With compensation, obviously."

That made my ears perk up. "How much?"

"Our rates start at twelve hundred an hour, always paid in cash."

My jaw dropped. "And what would we be doing?"

"I run a website dedicated to highlighting the different aspects of beauty. We are currently focusing on legs and feet." Howard handed me a business card. "Give us a call if you're interested. We'll set up a date for us to pick you up and take you to the studio."

"You'll pick us up?"

"We send a car for all our models." With that, he walked away.

"There's no way we're doing it, right?" Wren asked.

I took out my phone to search for the website. It sounded like a twenty-year-old tech billionaire's failed AI project. "It has good reviews." I scrolled through the monochromatic interface, filled with women's arms in long latex gloves and feet in heels so high they looked like weapons. A tab for men was available, though with a significantly smaller supply. Below, the tab directing you to the about section was a password-protected 'exclusive' tab. "The website seems legit."

When we got home, I immediately called the number on the business card. A disembodied woman asked if I was buying or selling. "Selling?" I answered. "Howard approached my wife and me today."

I heard some typing on the other end of the line. "What's your address?"

As I told her, my wife looked at me from across our kitchen in utter disbelief.

More typing. "We'll send a car tomorrow at nine p.m."

She hung up before I could say anything else.

"You're not serious," Wren demanded.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine, but I'm not gonna pass up this opportunity."

She pressed her tongue on the inside of her cheek. "I don't like this."

"I don't like living off a teacher's salary." I took an energy drink out of the fridge to help me finish grading my class's worksheets while Wren left the kitchen with a huff of disapproval.

A black van stopped in front of our house. The back door opened, revealing two empty seats in the almost-full vehicle. "At least we aren't alone," I whispered.

After making sure I had my wallet and pepper spray, I stepped into the van.

"Fresh meat," the woman to my left said.

"Excuse me?" Wren barked at her.

I put my hand on my back to signal that maybe it wasn't the best time to get into a fight.

"You're new. Fresh. Meat."

I cleared my throat as the inside of the van began to close in. "What's your name?" I needed at least one friend there, and she was the first person to acknowledge me.

"Crystal. And you are?"

"Alice." I pointed my thumb at my partner. "Wren."

"Howie got a two-for-one deal with y'all," Crystal smiled. "Roommates or fruits? Or both?"

I pressed down on Wren's shoulder, keeping her from getting out of her seat. "I take it you've worked here for a while then."

She nodded. "We all have."

I looked at all the women in the back row—different ages, races, and sexes assigned at birth.

"So you like working here then?"

She shrugged. "It pays the bills. It pays for designer." She ran her fingertips across her chest, flaunting her Chanel necklace. "Can't complain."

We spent the rest of the ride in silence.

Howard greeted us as we entered the studio. "Welcome back, ladies. We have some new members joining us, so make sure to be welcoming." A short man in a black polo and khakis handed him a clipboard before walking away. "Let's see here." He put on thin-framed glasses, accentuating his beady little blue eyes. "Crystal, Daisy, and Amber, you're with Fred. Cherry and Jade, you're with George. Alice and Wren, you're with Dave." He clapped his hands and walked over to us. "Everyone to their places. Chop-chop."

Wren grabbed my hand and squeezed. "Where exactly are we going?" she asked as everyone dispersed.

Howard smiled. "Room 106! Depending on what we're shooting, you'll be either in a room or outside in the parking lot. Today we'll start simple. Follow me."

We followed him to a room with pretty standard photography equipment. Soft box lighting kits illuminated a grey leather couch that stood at the center of a white backdrop. "Dave, meet our new girls," Howard said while the photographer messed with his camera. "I'm going to check on the rest of our ladies. You kids, play nice now."

Dave looked at us with a sinister gleam in his eyes. "Nice," he laughed darkly. He crouched down to get a closer look at our legs. "You have a birthmark," he said as he poked the side of my right ankle. "Do you want us to cover it?"

"No, it's fine," I responded, not seeing the danger in such a small mark being visible.

He set his camera on the tripod and beckoned us over to the couch, where he handed us a pair of black thongs. "Put this on."

I did as directed; Wren begrudgingly followed. As a silent command, he handed us hot pink stilettos.

"Alright, let's get started. For now, just do what feels natural."

With no other direction, I crossed my legs. Blinding flashes of light erupted in the already bright room. Metallic clicks filled my ears as Dave took the photos.

"Niceeee."

As I tried a few other positions, I noticed Wren wasn't moving. I thought she just wasn't sure how to pose. "Just do what I do," I said, trying to be encouraging.

"Right, 'cause you're such an expert," she retorted.

With a sigh, I lay on my back and raised my legs so they were completely vertical, prompting Wren to do the same.

"Hold that. Don't move a fucking millimeter," he said as the camera shutter sang.

Finally, an hour had passed. Howard came back and gave us our payment—in cash as promised. "Same time tomorrow?"

The following gigs were pretty standard. After a long day of teaching and grading papers, I'd put on heels, ballet slippers, or Doc Martens and pose to show off my legs or feet, depending on the day. Sometimes we even shot close-ups of our knees. We wore fishnets or sheer tights here and there, but Howard said our viewers preferred to see as much of our skin as possible. I wasn't going to complain when we were getting free routine pedicures.

Crystal and I had begun getting close. After my first week, she invited me out for drinks after a shoot. "How's Howie treating you?" she asked before taking a sip of her Aperol spritz.

"Good," I answered. "Will that change?"

She shrugged. "How long have you and your wifey been together?"

"Five years."

"You're lucky you were recruited together. This job isn't something you can easily explain."

"It's just modeling."

"For now."

The money we were earning went to the typical bills, car payments, and student loans, leaving us enough to enjoy the quiet luxuries of a morning Starbucks coffee and brand-name groceries. Though I couldn't help but feel twinges of jealousy when Crystal would show me the new designer clothes and jewelry she bought.

I asked Howard about how Wren and I could increase our earnings, and as soon as the words left my mouth, a sinister smile spread across his face. He led us to the studio's parking lot, where our usual white backdrop was set up. "This is where we film our more exclusive content," Howard said as groups of what I had since learned were interns filled a plastic bin with a viscous red liquid.

"What's that?" I asked.

"That," Howard sa...

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1un6b0z/i_got_hired_at_a_modeling_agency_things_got_weird/

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