“Drop your robe,” she instructed without looking at him, her attention focused on the paint, she was smearing onto her pallet.
Michael let his robe fall to the floor, exposing his body to the cool, air-conditioned room. He had modeled for many painters before, but never one as successful or well known as Dahlia Lace.
“Where you would like me to stand, Ms. Lace?” he asked.
She turned to him with a little sigh. “You are to call me Miss. You will answer only to ‘Love’ or ‘Lover.’ Is that understood?”
He nodded, a little surprised.
“Good. Now be a good boy and stand here.” She touched his arm lightly and led him to the center of her set.
“Yes, Miss,” he said, and she smiled.
She positioned him and then took a step back, considering his body. “Well, you don’t disappoint.” She let her eyes run up and down his body. “You’ll be a fine subject, love. Now, how to position you?” She tapped a finger on her bottom lip.
Bright lamps surrounded him, illuminating the long lines of his muscles, casting dark shadows on his skin. He waited for her instructions with his arms at his sides.
“I’ve got just the thing.” A slow smile spread across her face. “Get on your knees,” she ordered.
He obeyed with a smirk.
“What’s that smile for, love?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.
“Nothing.” He shook his head and readjusted himself on his hands and knees. “I’m just surprised at how fun it is to be ordered around by a beautiful woman.”
“You don’t want to flatter me,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I might make you say it again.”
He bit his lip and looked away from her. She pretended not to notice and moved behind the canvas, to look at him properly.
“Show me your most passionate expression,” she said, holding a paintbrush loosely between two fingers. “I want to see what you look like when you’re about to take a woman for the first time.”
He looked up at her through his lashes and imagined what it would be like to make love to this woman, this incredible painter.
“No, no.” She shook her head. “That isn’t right at all. Here.” She put her paintbrush down and walked towards him, slinking down to the ground by his hands.
“No, don’t move. Stay exactly where you are,” she said and positioned herself so that she was lying on her back in front of him, her breasts moving quietly just beneath his face.
“Now look at me,” she instructed. “Look at all of me. I want to see the face of a lion about to attack his prey, the face of a man about to ravish a woman. Show me what that looks like.”
She stretched out her arms above her head. Her white tank top raised, showing her tight belly, and he noticed that it was slightly see through. She was wearing a black bra underneath, and he found himself wondering if she was wearing underwear to match.
“That’s it!” She smiled and jumped up, running to the easel. “Hold that expression, just like that.” She said and dipped her paintbrush into a deep brown.
She hadn’t put more than three strokes of paint on the canvas before she stopped.
“No.” She shook her head. “Something isn’t quite right here. Stand up, love. I want to try something else.”
He stood up hesitantly, turning away from her so that she would not see how excited he had become.
She walked up to him again, her dainty steps echoing in his ears. He felt her soft touch on his arm once more, pulling him to turn around, but he resisted her.
“Are you fighting me?” She asked, a dangerous note in her voice. “Turn around, love.”
He faced her then and felt her eyes travel straight to his erection.
“What a naughty boy!” she exclaimed with a smile. “Is that because of me?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Answer the question,” she ordered when he did not respond.
“Yes,” he said, meeting her gaze.
“You’re not here for your personal pleasure,” she told him, “you are here for mine. Get on your knees.”
“I thought we weren’t going with that pose?” he asked.
"Do as you’re told,” she said.
He dropped to his knees and shifted his weight to his hands. Before he had time, adjust her hand flew hard against his ass. He felt himself instantly become rock hard, and she saw it.
“Do you like being punished?” she asked with a smile and rubbed her hand gently where she had hit him. “Answer the question,” she emphasised her words with another smack.
“I think I do,” he said, clearly at his answer.
“Is that right?” she murmured. Her fingers slid down the inside of his thigh and stroked along the side of his shaft.
He shuddered and held still, waiting for her to touch him again.
“Do you like this?” She ran her finger lightly along his length, almost too gently to feel.
“What was that?” she asked, removing her touch.
“Yes!” he answered emphatically.
“Then don’t move a muscle,” she instructed and left him there on all fours, under the warm stage lights.
When she returned a moment later, she approached him from behind. He couldn’t quite see, but it looked like there was something in her hands.
“What’s that, Miss?” he asked, curious.
“It’s a new toy,” she answered. “One I haven’t had a chance to try out yet.”
Anxious butterflies fluttered in his stomach, but he did as she told him and held still.
She ran the toy down his rod, teasing him with its smooth edge. Then, with the flick of a button, it began to vibrate.
He groaned as she swirled the toy around the tip of his cock.
“Do you know where this goes?” She asked with a smirk.
She dragged it over his butt, tickling him as she went.
She pulled out a small bottle of lube and slathered the toy, making sure he understood.
“No, wait,” he squirmed away as the toy vibrated at his backdoor.
“Shhh,” she whispered and caressed the skin on his back. “Trust me,” she said and began to push the buzzing toy inside him.
He groaned and fell to his elbows. The vibrations rocked him, inside, and the toy curved downwards as she pushed, putting pressure on some place inside him that had always yearned for attention.
“I want to paint you like this,” she said as she slid the toy in and out, moving is expertly within him. “I want to paint you violated, clutching at the air, aroused by your degradation.”
She reached beneath him and pinched his nipples, twisting them between her fingers.
His face flushed red and his back arched under her touch.
“Do you want more, love?” she asked, raking her nails down his sensitive thighs.
“...Yes,” he rasped, struggling to focus.
“Yes, what?” She switched off the vibrator and waited.
He moaned loudly and cried, “Yes, Miss! Please…”
“Good boy.” She smiled and turned the vibrator on. With one skilled movement, she forced the toy inside him, holding it against his most sensitive part, and with the other hand she circled her fingers around his shaft.
He gasped as her grip tightened, stroking this member rapidly as she massaged the vibrator deep inside him. His finger scraped at the ground, and his muscles contracted. His hips rocked back and forth, moving with her hands in perfect rhythm. His skin blazed with heat and she let her fingers trail along the tip of his cock.
“What do you want to do, lover?” she asked, her fingernails lightly grazing the sensitive skin.
He held back a moan. “I want to cum,” he panted, inhaling sharply as her fingers danced across his member.
“What do you say?” she asked, turning down the vibrations on her toy.
“Please…” he gasped. “Please make me cum, Miss.”
“Not yet, love. There’s more fun that we can have!”
She removed the toy and held out her hand, pulling him to his feet.
“Follow me,” she beckoned. His legs shook, but he managed to follow her into the bedroom.
She met his gaze and pushed him to the bed. “Lay back,” she commanded.
His body ached, hungry for her touch, and his erection throbbed.
Keeping eye contact, she removed her tank top and jeans. Her underwear was black like her bra, and both were lacier than he had imagined. She danced over to her drawer and pulled out a new toy.
“What is that, Miss?” he asked.
“It’s a special toy just for you.” She brought it closer, and he could see that it was a plug. He swallowed hard. “Lick it,” she encouraged and brought it to his lips. He hesitated and then reached his tongue. He licked the clear glass plug, and she moaned with pleasure at the sight. Her reaction encouraged him, and he began to lick it hungrily, wetting it with his saliva.
“That’s it,” she nodded and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. He licked the plug greedily, and she ground on top of him, breathing heavily.
“Now,” she breathed and lowered the plug. He closed his eyes and exhaled as she slid it inside of him. It fit snugly, filling him up and stretching him in a way that he had never felt before.
He reached up and cupped his hands around her breasts.
“Undress me,” she whispered and bit his ear.
He shivered and unclasped the bra from around her back, throwing it to the side. She shimmied out of her underwear and straddled him again. He ran his thumb over her nipples, pleased to feel that they were two hard buds under his touch.
She leaned in and kissed him, forcing her tongue into his mouth, and reached between his legs, to grasp his shaft.
He inhaled, and she bit his lip, hard.
“Do you want to be inside me?” She purred.
“Yes, Miss,” he whispered.
She raised herself above him and guided him inside her. They breathed together, and he felt the plug shift inside him.
“Don’t move,” she said and his eyebrows knit together.
“Don’t move,” she restated more severely.
Slowly, slower than he could bear, she began to ride him. She rolled her hips forwards and back in time with her breathing. He grasped her hips and willed her to move faster. She grabbed hold of his wrists and pinned them back over his head.
“Slow, love.” She rocked her hips forward once, waited a moment, and then rocked them back.
He groaned, feeling the plug inside him shift imperceptibly. His legs trembled, and his muscles ached for release. She leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth as the intensity began to rise.
Then, without warning, she began to move faster, as fast as she was capable, and he cried out.
“You must ask permission if you want to cum,” she panted, holding his arms down as leverage.
“Can I cum, Miss?” He breathed, fighting against the intensity building inside him.
“No.” She answered and stopped moving.
He gasped at the sudden lack of stimulation and his back arched.
She slid off him and went back to her drawer.
“One more toy for the night, I think,” she said coyly and reached into the drawer. She pulled out a black silicone toy whose purpose he could only guess. His organ ached for release, but he had a feeling that Miss wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
The toy was a ring connected to an odd shape at the end.
She slunk back to the bed and positioned herself in between his legs.
“First thing’s first. Let’s take out this troublesome plug,” she crooned.
Her fingers traced his skin and then pulled gently at the plug, easing it out of him. He closed his eyes, holding his breath as Miss pulled.
“How does that feel, love?” she asked and pushed the plug back in before gently pulling at it again. Love was unable to hold back his moan.
“Answer me,” She said and twisted the plug.
“Good…” He said, looking up at the ceiling.
“Now let’s take this out,” she tantalized while sliding the plug out all the way. “And we’ll use this instead.”
She took hold of his cock gently and stretched the ring over his engorged head. It settled on the base of his shaft, and he inhaled.
"It’s crazy tight…” he breathed. Miss smiled.
She pulled on the ring, and he realized that the shape at the end was a plug of some kind.
“This,” she explained, “is a special kind of plug. Do you remember that spot we played with earlier?” She slipped a finger inside him and curled her finger. He bucked his hips and gasped. “That’s the one,” she nodded. “This plug will snuggle up right next to the spot. And since it’s connected to this little ring,” she pulled on the strap, and he squirmed, “every time you move it will pull this tighter. It’s going to feel unusually good, but it’s also going to keep this cock nice and hard.”
She ran her fingers up his shaft and watched him squirm.
“It’s also going to help us keep you from orgasming until the exact moment I say.”
She pushed the plug inside him until it pulled tightly against the ring around his cock. Then she climbed over him and slid onto his now engorged cock.
With the same deliberate slowness as before, she slid up and down on his member. He groaned, much louder than before and grabbed her hips, suddenly unable to control himself.
He rolled over, flipping her underneath him, and thrust into her with unbridled passion.
She giggled as his inability to control himself and reached down to tug at the cock ring. It made him pause, cutting off circulation to his cock, and she used that time to slide out from underneath him.
She reached into her nightstand and pulled out a vibrator wand. Before Michael could react she pressed the wand against his plug and turned it on to the highest setting.
His eyes rolled back in his head, and he whimpered. The vibrations ran through the silicone, running through the cock ring and the plug inside him.
“Do not,” she emphasised each word with the wand, “disobey me again.” She positioned herself on her knees. “Now cum.” She ordered and pulled the cock ring off in one fluid motion. The blood rushed into his organ, and she pressed the vibrator against his shaft.
At her command he exploded. The orgasm ripped through him, pulling him upwards. With one hand, she held the vibrator against him and with the other she stroked his shaft, milking the cum out of him quickly.
His orgasm subsided, but she did not slow.
He pulled away, but she held him still, continually stimulating his now overly sensitive member.
“Stop…” He begged, but she continued.
“I thought you wanted to come?” She asked, stroking his now soft dick with relish.
He made a guttural sound of anguish, and she smiled.
"This is what happens when you disobey me, love,” she said and finally released him.
He fell back into the pillows, and she crawled over him to kiss him long and hard on the mouth.
“Stay here,” she said and left the room.
She came back with her easel and palette.
“That is the pose I was looking for,” she said, chewing on the end of her paintbrush.
He watched her, exhausted and spent, and she began to paint.