Page 62 of S is for…

Joni’s pussy squeezed the dildo.

“A clamp on your clit will keep you still while we enjoy the rest of the scene.”He traced the taut flesh of her entrance, stretched by the dildo.“I don’t want to do that, but I will if you need help obeying my orders.”

“I’ll hold still, Master Vo,” she whispered.

“I don’t expect you to remain completely still.That’s unreasonable.But if I see you fucking yourself on the dildo, that’s when we’ll have a problem.”

She nodded submissively.

“Good.”He stroked her clit twice, and she sucked in air as pleasure whipped through her.

Then Lihn was gone, stepping off the stage.Strangely, Joni wasn’t worried.Despite her initial trepidation about his plans, she trusted him, both as a Dom, and as an intelligent person who understood what had gone wrong last weekend.He wouldn’t design a scene that wouldn’t meet her needs.

Small stage lights clicked on, and Joni had to close her eyes for a moment.When she opened them, she could clearly see the wood grain of the barrel between her legs.One of the lights was lower than the others, level with the top of the barrel, and pointed at her, illuminating her pussy, and the dildo buried in it.It was bright, almost shining in her eyes, so she looked away.

She heard him returning before she saw him, and watched with interest as Lihn set up a small folding table.

Then he laid out jars of paint, brushes, and several packs of baby wipes.

Joni was rarely truly surprised.She could usually figure out what was going to happen next in any given situation.This she hadn’t seen coming.

“As I said, I enjoy living art.Performance art.”He unscrewed the lid of the red paint.

“I’m going to be your canvas?”

“Not just mine.”He took the lid off the white, and picked up a palette knife, scooping some of the white paint out onto the table.He wiped off the palette knife, then dipped it into the red, adding it to the white.The tool clicked and scraped against the table as he mixed the colors.The casual, confident way he manipulated the paint, and the fact that he’d boldly used the table itself as his palette, made it clear he was a skilled, knowledgeable painter.If he hadn’t already told her he was an artist, she would have started to wonder in this moment.

Once he’d mixed up some pink, he selected a brush with coarse-looking bristles.She had some vague idea it was a “chip” brush, though didn’t know why she knew that.

He loaded the fibrous bristles with pink paint, then raised his arm.Master Vo painted her nipple pink.

The paint itself was cold, and her nipple hardened, the areola ruching.The brush stroked top to bottom and side to side, abrading her softly.Then he twirled it, forming a perfect pink circle.

When he raised the brush from her skin, she assumed he was done.He wasn’t.

Master Vo bounced the tip of the brush against her nipple, in a stippling motion.The stiff bristles stabbed her sensitive flesh, a hundred small pricks of sensation.

Joni gasped, heels of her hands digging into her thighs as she rested her palms on her legs.

“Lovely,” he said, stepping back.

Then Master Vo turned to the darkness beyond the stage and raised his voice to carry.“Please join me.”

Joni watched, surprised for the second time, as people walked up onto the stage.Master Vo uncapped the other colors, and brought back the stool.Then he stepped back, watching as people chose their brushes and colors.

A man with kind eyes painted her other nipple, the brush soft but stiff so it flicked her nipple as he swiped it back and forth.

A sub in a black collar got up on the stool, her Dom handing her up brushes loaded with paint.She pushed Joni’s hair back and painted the side of her neck just below her ear.The soft strokes felt like gentle licks, and Joni shivered and moaned.

Someone else painted black bands around her wrists—paint cuffs.Another participant used yellow and a small foam roller to coat each breast.Yellow mixed with red and blue until she had one orange and one green tit.

“The paint is non-toxic?”

Joni didn’t see who asked—her eyes were closed as she reveled in the sensation of someone painting a spiral of black around her green breast, slowly drawing closer to the nipple.

“Yes, it’s body paint.”

“Safe to use on her pussy?”

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