His pet was a beauty to him. Ephemeral and lovely in her cuffs and collar and nothing else. He loved the way her ass reddened from the sting of his toys, the way she wiggled and jumped at each stroke. Her obedience to him was as flawless as she could make it and he loved her so, as she loved him. She was the Jane to his Edward.
They were the inspiration for one another to live as they did and to love as they did and so it was that they fell deeper and deeper into the roles of artist and muse. He drew patterns on her body in wax, elicited music from her passionate cries, and came alive when she was with him. She craved these moments when she was his canvas and cherished them as no other.
One night, at a party, they were giving a demonstration. She was a living work of art, bound in rope, by the desire simmering in the room, and she was all his to show off with intricate ties and carefully placed knots. Before he was done the room began to buzz with energy. One submissive knelt and the wet sucking sounds of a blowjob could be heard. It only added to tension in the room. Another was bent over the back of a chair, trying not to moan as they were fucked ever so gently while watching the scene before them unfold. As the ties were completed and she was held like a bird suspended and swinging he reached for her, kissing her before sending her spinning slowly around, to display his art. And he he began to whisper to her, all the things he was going to do to her once he untied her. How she was going to suck him and if she was a good girl he’d let her come for him. How he wanted to flog her beautiful ass. They became entirely unaware of the room around them and gradually his fingers found her wet, hungry pussy.
That they were being watched was of no import. He traced a pattern against her skin, a secret “I love you”, and slipped a single finger inside of her, feeling how wet she was, how ready. He finger fucked her slowly, watching her try to squirm in the ropes. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to him and kissed her neck, while adding another finger to her pussy. Gods, she was amazing and so was he. Gradually the room stilled from its debauchery once more to watch another scene unfold before them. Soon her cries echoed in the silence and she bucked her hips against the ropes and his fingers as best she could, her body begging for more. Another finger. He whispered her name. She looked at him, her desire evident to all present and held his gaze, knowing what he wanted. And she nodded, just once.
Slowly, a fourth finger joined the rest and gradually as she rocked and cried out, her body opened to him. And he slid his hand inside of her her. She froze, her only movement coming from the gentle swing of the ropes as an orgasm washed through her body. Her cries became a low moan and the room watched her come for him. He moved slowly, fisting her gently, carefully, but never stopping those movements. She would come for him again.
And as she hung there, his art, his love, he drove her higher and again she gave that deep, satisfied moan as her entire body trembled in the ropes and her head dropped to hide her face. Carefully he slipped free of her body and began to untie her, unwinding her bonds and freeing her to fall into him. She did so and he carried her to a quiet corner where the was a blanket waiting with some water and a snack someone had left there. Wrapping her and holding her close he murmured soft words and caressed her warm skin. She was his muse and she had served him well.