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She’d never been to his home, but as part of their initial interview together, she’d wanted to know what he did to stay in shape. Those measures, plus long hot days working in garages or riding motorcycles, gave him the energy and strength to serve several Mistresses in one night and exorcise his demons.
She and every woman who’d enjoyed his body needed to send those demons flowers and chocolate, to thank them.
She expected he’d returned to those workouts as soon as he was medically cleared to resume them—probably even before then. Pushing himself to sweat-coated exhaustion would help with the suffocating feeling of a silence he couldn’t break.
She pressed up against him, sliding one hand around the front to cup his testicles. She administered a firm squeeze there before stroking his cock, giving it a proprietary pull. Already semi-erect from standing mostly naked before her regard, he went full mast under her touch. She looked up at him to see if he’d received the message her touch conveyed. He had.
“I got it, Mistress,” he said. “Yours.”
When they continued toward their destination, they discussed what he would be doing. As she’d expected, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with his artist being a male, but she reminded him. “You’re a canvas only. His touch will be intimate, but only for the art. It’s all right if you do get aroused, though. That’s expected.”
Expected, hoped for, anticipated...
His wry look said he picked up on what likely represented not just her own wishes, but those of the patrons who would be watching.
“What do you know about him?” Tiger asked.
She’d shown him the program that indicated Evan was indeed one of the most prominent names here tonight, an artist who was accomplished in so many mediums—photography, canvas, metal, clay, et cetera—he was reviewed as “one of the most diverse artists of our age.” So she knew Tiger wasn’t asking about his professional credentials.
She typed, “He’s a Dominant, part of a committed threesome. You’ve met Alanna. The other is a big Scotsman. He’s also a Dominant, though I think he switches for Evan. They share Alanna. Who is so beautiful she makes me consider changing my sub gender preference.”
“If you want to test that out, I’m happy to watch.”
She rolled her eyes at him, fingers busy again on her phone. “Dale spoke to every artist before they were invited, to be sure they understand consent and respect. If anyone forgets, the DMs are here, and they know your safeword. If you forget it, you have your fall back.”
“‘Get your hands off me, motherfucker, before I feed you your dick?’”
She grinned, typed. “That’s the one. What did the coordinator tell you to do?”
“I have a list of poses. I stand on the platform and every fifteen minutes, I shift into another position, to challenge the artist and keep it interesting for the audience. I don’t speak or move except for that. When the artist is done…I wait for you to tell me I’m done.”
He looked at her. “The others were told the artist would let them know when they were done.”
“Yes. They’re not here tonight with a Domme. You are. Do you understand?”
He held her gaze. “Yes, Mistress. I do.”
She stopped to type the next part, because she wanted to emphasize its importance. He touched her back, a gesture that told her he liked it when she adjusted so she was leaning against him and he could gaze at the screen as she typed.
“Follow the artist’s direction. For all intents, youarea statue. Still. Peaceful. Watching the world, nothing else required. Allow the guests to gaze upon you, appreciate your beauty, your stillness. Your submission to the process and what you’ve been told to do.”
He touched her face, drawing it up to his. He wanted to see her expression, something most deaf people needed, but she suspected he had other reasons. “That’s your command, Mistress?”
“It is.” She decided to tack on some additional thoughts, to play with his imagination.Tap, tap, tap.“If we were doing this entirely my way, I would use a cock teaser on you, watch you fight the orgasm as you were commanded to stay still. I’d turn it on at random times, never enough to let you come, but to keep you hard, aching. Twitching.”
He would show a fierce concentration during such times, on the cusp of a plea that would never pass his lips, but the need he showed was something she savored.
Thinking of it, she let her lips curve before she typed some more. “Your impressive cock will give all the women here fantasies to take home with them. Maybe we’ll have our own private art session later. I like painting.”
An intrigued light kindled in his gaze. However, it was time to get where they were going. Shifting to his side, she gripped his elbow, letting him escort her the rest of the way to Evan.
As they approached, he lifted his head. The sharp gray eyes brushed over Skye to Tiger and held, an artist considering the possibilities.
She turned to Tiger. She studied him a long moment, while Evan waited quietly for her evaluation. She nodded. Tiger was good. That tension was still there, but she’d planted the right seeds. She touched his arm, but then made herself turn away and leave them without looking back.
She was a nurturing person, but not to excess. If a sub wanted a mother, he had the wrong Mistress. Anyone under her care received what he needed and deserved, delivered in a no-nonsense way with the right hint of kindness, proof that she cared without going overboard with it. It was her responsibility as a Domme, making sure she left him in as good or better shape than before a session started.
Which was why it bemused her, that she was struggling with a feeling akin to a parent dropping their child at school for the first time. Registering the absurdity of it, she quashed the feeling and went about her business.
