Work Text:
“When you said you wanted to paint me naked, I didOHHH” Ashley’s words were cut off by moaning.
“The ropes wouldn’t be necessary if you’d stop moving” Sarah said, plucking the cords for effect.
It had been easy enough to stay still early on, as Sarah painted symbols and splashes of color on Ashley’s arms. Her stomach was harder, but she’d endured. Then Sarah had trailed her little brush down to Ashley’s thighs and she hadn’t been able to help herself. She’d slammed her legs shut, smearing the paint. That had been an hour ago, and Sarah had decided she didn’t want to have to redo work. Now…
“Please please PLEASE” Ashley begged, straining against the cords. But they were tied well, leaving her spread-eagle on a dropcloth and unable to move as Sarah worked on the flower over her left breast, thickening the petals one moment, adding just a touch of depth the next, and always, always, putting more into the yellow stamen at the center, right over Ashley’s nipple. Sarah flicked the brush, teasing with it and working slowly until even she had to admit the fiction was wearing thin.
“You can’t rush art, dear. But...Maybe it’s time to move on.”
Ashley realized where she was looking. “Oh. Oh no. Please...”
The new brush was blue and soft, as Sarah started running it slowly around the outside of Ashley’s right boob. She was careful, and slow, not betraying anything as Ashley strained, trying to press her breast into the paintbrush in hopes of feeling anything more than light teasing. “At least it’s just a spiral” Ashley thought, feeling the trail of damp and the tickle of the soft hairs over her sensitive skin. “She can’t draw a spiral out for very long.” But she was wrong. Sarah had chosen carefully, and as she reached Ashley’s nipple, she dipped her brush in paint again and pulled it to a fine point. The sound Ashley made, as Sarah drew the finest circles she could, her brush barely touching Ashley’s nipple, was inhuman.
Sarah finally tapped the point of her paintbrush right at the center of the spiral. Once. Twice. Three times. Each time listening to the gasps from Ashley as she did. Then she leaned over her girlfriend, placing her ear right next to her mouth. “What was that? Ashley, you have to use words, this sobbing doesn’t tell me anything. Oh well. One spot to paint left.”
Ashley’s eyes widened. Right now, the only parts of her that weren’t painted were her hands and feet, her face, her back, and...she found her voice. “Sarah, please, just let me come. Sarah, just...fuck me, I need it, please!”
“And ruin all this work? Now hold still, I’d hate to have to wash you off and start over.”
Ashley shut up, watching Sarah pull brushes out of her cup, considering. Then Sarah looked between her legs, paling as she considered the bare skin there. “You know, you have wonderful skin. So smooth, so many colors look good against it...so sensitive.” The first touch of Sarah’s favorite delicate brush to that sensitive skin made Ashley keen, trying to arch off the sheet, trying to close her legs. Instead, Sarah made another mark, still far from her actual lips, still almost too much to bear. The next stroke of the brush was closer, and then Sarah went to work. She alternated sides, never pushing down, never letting Ashley feel more than the lightest touch. Her brush moved closer, laying layers of red down on Ashley’s mound, going back to fix the little errors that came from her canvas trembling constantly, broad strokes at first, more focused pressure when she touched somewhere that made Ashley squirm even harder.
Ashley lost herself in the sensation. She couldn’t cum, not from just the paintbrush, but the pleasure built, and built, until it felt like there was nothing below her waist but the brush. She felt she could go on like that forever, feeling nothing but pleasure. And it stopped. Sarah sat back on her heels, staring at Ashley’s cunt. Normally, she’d love displaying herself like this, but this time all she could do was gasp out “Please.”
“Sadly, you’re too wet. The paint won’t stick if I go any closer.”
“Wha...Sa...please.”
Sarah smiled evily. “Nope. No more brushes.” Then, as Ashley looked ready to cry, Sarah reached down between her legs and dragged her fingers through Ashley’s cunt. Ashley stopped breathing. They came up, glistening, and went into Sarah’s mouth as she moaned. “See? Even that didn’t help. You’re soaked.” Her fingers went down again, and stayed there, sliding through Ashley’s slit. The sudden shift of sensation was too much. Normally, Ashley had to work to cum. Normally. But Sarah had been at this for hours. Ashley’s vision went white.
When Ashley opened her eyes, it was to the sight of Sarah standing over her, concern on her face. “Are. Are you okay? Was that too much?”
“Wonderful” Ashley breathed. Talking above a whisper wasn’t possible, but she hated Sarah looking upset.
“Oh good.” The evil smile came back as Sarah sucked her last finger clean. “Well, you were a wonderful canvas. Now, let’s just...” There was a stepstool nearby. She got her phone out and started taking pictures, some from far away, a few that, even steeped in afterglow, Ashley realized were uncomfortable close-ups. When she judged she had enough, Sarah walked to the side and pulled a cord. The ropes didn’t release completely, but she suddenly had enough slack to sink to the dropcloth. Ashley considered trying to get off it, soaked as it was in paint, sweat, and everything else, but she decided it was easier to just lie there for a bit. Sarah knelt next to her. “Want to see?” She held the phone up without waiting for a response, and Ashley looked.
She had been well and truly fucked, her hair was a mess, her every muscle strained against the ropes, there was an actual puddle between her legs, and her body was covered in Sarah’s paint. It was the best thing she’d ever seen. “You. Are the greatest artist. In the world.”
“I work with good materials.” Sarah was trying to sound smug, but the effect was ruined by her uncontrolled grin. “We’ll have to do this again. I’ve got some more ideas to try.” Sarah’s gaze traveled lower, lost in thought.
If Ashley could have lifted her head, she’d have looked at herself. Instead, she reached for the phone. It took her a few tries, and a few more to scroll through the pictures for the one she wanted. When she found it, she felt like trying to pin her girlfriend down and eat her out for a few hours. She settled for clutching the phone to her chest and trying to mutter compliments. On the screen was a close-up of her pussy. Covered in a red heart, and pierced by cupid’s paintbrush.