A Work of Art

by T S Fesseln

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© Copyright 2006 - T S Fesseln - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; D/s; bond; leather; gag; collar; tease; toys; sex; mast; cons; X

That night, the cold October rain drummed on the skylights and washed everything outside glossy and new.  The lit windows of the houses across the way painted a dark Monet-like impression on the rain slick street. Mark took another drag on his cigarette and continued to watch for the arrival Eileen's car. 

His cock was already hard with the thought of Eileen and the thought of binding her again.  Mark could picture her elegant body, slender from tennis lessons and late afternoon swims.  Eileen was barely over five-foot tall and yet the way that she carried herself through a crowd made her seems to stand six-foot or more.  Mark loved her long, aureate colored hair and her laughing blue eyes and her short, pug-like nose and the way all of her was that poolside brown that sun lotion ads loved to purvey.

And Mark liked how Eileen always smelled of roses.

They had met at a charity art show where one of his works was being shown.  Mark was comfortable enough with his success that donating one of his pieces would not hurt him financially.  "The Flame II" was a sensuous piece of polished blue acrylic and brass flames that formed the outline of a female torso.  It was typical of his work, both erotic and elemental.  Eileen had bought the piece for her husband's collection and wanted to know more about it. 

The wine and easy conversation led to a more intimate relationship of seductive smiles, slight touches and flirtatious words.  Words became actions after the show in the back seat of her Mercedes sedan.  It was not a one-time fling, however.  Eileen's hunger for him grew greater and he found himself enjoying with her some of the darker delights of sex.

Mark had always been attracted to leather and chains and coils of rope, especially imprisoning the warm flesh of a woman.  Eileen was an eager slave, always wanting to please her Master anyway she could.  He would pleasure her, ensnaring her wrists and ankles and sealing her lips with tape so the only sounds she could make were moans of rapture.

Mark's erotic reminiscences dissipated as Eileen's black sedan pulled into his driveway.  Mark heard the distant whir of his garage door opening and closing.  He heard the sound of her unlocking the door and stepping inside.

"Mark, dearest?" she called out in her low, musical voice.

"I am up here, in the studio" he replied.

Eileen nearly dashed up the stairs to his workroom.  Mark had said he had something special planned for her tonight, something they had not yet explored.  Just the mere thought of her sandy-haired sculptor taking her into his hands again and turning her into his slave for the next two days created a prickly warmth in her womb that she need to salve with his ministrations.

Underneath her long black leather coat she wore nothing save her black velvet choker and a slender silver chain around her waist.  The silk lining of the jacket teased at her skin along with the cold drafts that reached up and caressed her.  She was glad to be inside his 'sanctuary' again and it's cool warmth.

At the top of the stairs she saw him, dressed in a black western shirt and a pair of black jeans that seem to emphasis all the strong qualities of a man sturdily built.  They both had the same, smiling blue eyes, though his could also turn as cold as an October wind if he wanted them to.  His long dark hair was gathered in a neat ponytail.  Mark was also wearing one of those lop-sided smiles that had first charmed her.

"Hello, my little slave," he smiled, "And how are you this evening?"

" 'Slave' already," Eileen smiled as she came over to him, "Not even a hello kiss?"

Mark embraced her tightly and their lips ravenously met.  Eileen's tongue danced around Marks like a dervish as she locked her arms around him.  It was Mark that gently pushed her away.

"Are you ready, my little slave?" Mark asked.

"Yes, Master," she smiled, twirling a little bit, "in just a moment."

She glided over to the compact disk player and selected a single disc and track. The pagan tones of Loreena McKennitt's 'All Soul's Night' flowed and filled the studio as Eileen turned and swayed to the music.  As Mark looked on Eileen slowly unbuttoned her coat.  Languidly, she approached him, swaying and smiling.  Mark could feel her heat even though she was halfway across the room.

The front of her coat was unfastened by the time Eileen stood within a touch of Mark.  He could see her graceful curves cradled in the shadows of her jacket.  The smell of rose and patchouli lingered around her as she whirled to the beat.  Her eyes never left his but for a second or two at a time. 

As the song came to a lingering end, Eileen let her coat slip from her shoulders and pool around her ankles before kneeling herself before Mark, presenting herself to him.

"I am here to please you, my Master," she said, bowing her head down.

"What, my little slave, would you enjoy this evening?" Mark asked, still a bit stunned by her performance.

"Whatever my Master wishes of this little slave would please me to no end."

All Mark could think was 'Oh My God'.  Eileen was the very essence of everything he looked for in a lover and companion.  She had intelligence, charm, wit, elegance, and submissiveness.  And yet she belonged to another. . .at least the times she was not with him in the confines of his home.

He smiled and walked across the room, his boots echoing on the polished wood floor.  A huge antique armoire took up a good portion of one of the walls and inside hung a variety of leather binders and straps and gags.  He carefully looked over the collection before selecting a few pieces.  One was a white leather single sleeve glove with polished brass buckles and locks.  The others were a matching ball gag and a collar.


It was a simple command she immediately obeyed, grasping her wrist behind her back.  The cool air of the studio made her aware of his every touch as he eased her arms into the embrace of the arm binder.  Mark made sure to lace the leather sleeve up slowly and tightly, pausing to kiss Eileen behind her ears and shoulders every now and then.  The warm itch within her womb seemed to grow like a well tended fire.  Finally Mark buckled and pulled tight the binder's straps over each of her shoulders.


Eileen turned to face Mark, her eyes locking onto his before bowing her head slightly.  The sculptor eyed the beauty of her shallow curves and shadows.  Her breasts were smallish and conical and her nipples small and pink and wonderfully erect.  Her stomach was flat and smooth, like polished marble and the silver chain around it glinted mischievously.  Her hips flared nicely and her mons was clean-shaven.  Mark knew she would have gotten pierced for him, however, the fear of her husband prevented it.  Her legs were well toned.  She could be a model for any of the Roman statues that graced museum halls.


Eileen opened her mouth as Mark brushed her luxurious golden brown hair away from her face.  Gently, he put the ball of the gag into her mouth and behind her teeth before taking the straps and buckling them snugly behind her head.  Eileen had learned to enjoy the smell and taste of leather.  No, it was more like lusted after them.  The mere dusky smell coming from a leather shop in the mall could start her juices running. 

Mark lifted her chin with a finger so that he could enjoy the look of pure lust in her eyes.  They had a slight, cat-like look in them.  Hungry; that is what Mark would call the look, a bridled desire that would need to be sated soon.

Reaching up, the sculptor unfastened her velvet choker and laid it on a side table, replacing it with a wide white leather collar.  A chrome-plated padlock fastened the collar around her throat with a light click.  The small key he dropped into an open bottle of champagne he had chilling beside the couch, causing a slight dribble of foam to cascade down the side of the bottle.

The lead was the last thing Mark produced from his pocket and he latched it onto the front silver ring on her collar.  It took only a slight tug for Mark to lead his slave across the room and down the carpeted stairs to his bedroom. A huge canopied brass bed dominated the room.  It was not an old fashioned one, rather, Mark had built it with sleek, modern lines and curves so the canopy of dark blue cloth looked like a cresting wave over the bed.  Of course, there were hidden rings and latches that allow Mark to tie his slave down in any position he wanted.

The sculptor led Eileen over the one of the curved rails and tied her leash off.  She stood anxiously as Mark stepped around in back of her.


She forced herself to face the bed.  Eileen could hear the rustle of clothing as Mark undressed and she could hardly contain herself.  She wanted to see his well-toned body.  Eileen wanted to feel his warm skin against hers and smell his faint smell of English Leather lingering on his jaw.  It was torture to know he was behind her, nude, ready to do those dark things that most couples only dream about.

She felt his hand brush back her hair and his warm lips kiss her behind her ear.  A warm ripple rushed through Eileen as his kisses turned to nibbles as he took her ear into his mouth.  She let out a small moan from behind her gag and Mark pressed himself closer against her.  Even through the leather binder that encased her arms, she could feel how hot he was. 

Mark's kisses trailed down over her white collar to her bare shoulder as his arms embraced her, keeping Eileen close to him; entrapping her.  His hands caressed over the flat of her stomach like a carpenter working a cherished piece of carved wood.  Mark touched and teased, feeling her belly and sides and running down over her hips.  His fingers brushed over her shaven mons and she could feel herself rock against him in the ancient rhythm of desire.

Mark enjoyed her movements while she was his captive.  Eileen seemed more alive and passionate as if all of her inhibitions disappeared with every strap he tightened and every knot that he tied.  Eileen ground her cheeks against him and her hips thirsted for his touch.

The sculptor cupped her breasts and began kneading them firmly as if they were clay to mold.  His fingers pinched her erect nipples, sending a bolt of blissful pain coursing through her.  Afterward, the feel of pure pleasure eclipsed the biting moment as a wave of passion swallowed her and she moaned. 

Eileen felt his hand dip down and tease at the edge of her puss.  She spread her legs a bit more to let her lover touch lower and deeper.  She nearly erupted as he tickled at her swollen clit.  A molten joy engulfed her and she arched back against Mark; her leash jerking her short.  Waves of passion crashed through her again and again, threatening to engulf her but Mark stopped just short of her orgasm, causing her to whine through her gag.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Mark whispered into her ear.

"Uuuuuuhh-hhhhuhhhhhh," Eileen moaned into her gag.

Mark unclipped her leash, leaving it hanging on the bedpost, and nearly threw her onto the bed.  It was the first time tonight Eileen had seen her lover naked and the sight of his large, erect penis sent a chill running through her.  It was not as large as some she had seen before, but the way he used it made his tool far better than any she had had before. 

"You, my little slave, are going to be earning your orgasm," Mark smiled as he lay down beside her.

Mark grasped his captive's waist and rolled her on top of him, helping Eileen to straddle him and then to ease herself down over his shaft.  Mark felt her surround his member, her vagina already slick with her own juices. He felt her muscles grip him as Eileen began to rock her hips at her own pace.  Once again he cupped her breasts and began pinching her nipples lightly and rolling them between his fingers.

Eileen enjoyed being on top.  She could set her own pace even while being bound as she was.  Mark filled her so completely in so many ways.  The feel of him inside her as she impaled herself upon him again and again was ecstasy incarnate.  She could feel the fiery waves start to roar through her again, climbing higher and higher within her. 

The combination of Eileen's gagged moans, the sight of her bound body above him, thrusting down upon him and the skill in which she was doing so built Marks orgasm up also.  He could feel his cum broiling up his shaft and he fought to hold it in; to make it last a bit longer until he no longer could.  Eileen felt his semen spray into her and this caused the fire to consume her in complete bliss, writhing and bucking and shuddering under the assault, Eileen came again and again until she just collapsed on top of Mark, exhausted.

Mark held her close as she slipped to his side.  Carefully, he took her gag out and she stretched her jaws a bit before settling back down beside him.  She wished she could embrace him now, cuddling him into her arms, but he did not wish to remove her arm sleeve so she was content just to be beside him; feeling his every breath and smelling his sweat and aftershave.

"You were a very good little slave," Mark said at last.

"And you were a very, very good Master," she smiled and gave him a peck.

"Thank you," he replied.

"So what now, Master?  How can I please you more?"

"I want to enjoy you like this for awhile, my little slave.  I want to hold you and drink you in and just enjoy your company. . . and perhaps talk about my next project."

"Mmmmmmmm, me too.  What next project?"

"Something that you are very much going to be a part of, Eileen.  Something I think you are really going to enjoy."

"What, Mark, tell me," Eileen pouted.

"Do you remember when we first telling each other about some of our deepest fantasies, my little slave?"


"Do you remember what you told me?"

Eileen smiled, "But there were soooooo many, Master.  I wanted to be alone on a beach with you, tied-up and available to do what you pleased. . ."

"And?" Mark prompted.

"I can remember telling you about wanting to be tied up in public. . ."


"Wanting to be used by two men at once, which, I remember, you didn't particularly like."

Mark nodded, "I want you all to myself, my little slave.  I don't want to share you with anyone.  I seem to recall one other one you had. . .about being auctioned off."

"I think you are misremembering, my Master.  I recall THAT being YOUR fantasy.  Seeing me up before all those men and women, being auctioned off to the highest bidder which happened to be YOU."

"I would love to see you on display," Mark said as he leaned over to kiss her.

"What do you call this, my Master?" Eileen struggled up and thrust herself out to him.

"You know what I mean, Eileen.  I would love to see you on a public auction block with all your charms presented for everyone to see."

"What does this have to do with your project, Mark?" she asked.

"Let me show you," he smiled.

He got out of bed and helped Eileen out as well as she struggled in her bindings.  He hooked her lead back on and gently guided her back up the stairs.  The studio was still lit by a few spotlights.  The air was cool and Eileen now wished she had a robe around her.  However, her lover was also naked and the cool of the studio did not seem to bother him. For this Eileen was glad for she really enjoyed watching his body.

Mark guided her over to a dark corner of the studio and flicked on a switch.  There, in the light, stood a six foot cube of light blue acrylic plastic that looked like a melting ice cube.  Around it's base was flames made of polished copper and brass that seemed to lick up it's sides.

"What do you think?" Mark asked.



"It isn't your usual work, Mark.  It lacks the sensualism of your other pieces.  It's grand in scale, Mark, the largest piece I have ever seen you do, but it isn't at all what I would expect from you."

"Of course, it isn't finished," he said.


"It is missing a very important element to make it as expressive as anything I have ever done."

"What," Eileen asked even though she was afraid she already knew the answer.


"ME?" Eileen nearly shouted.

"Yes, you.  I want to bind you and put you inside this cube and put you up for auction tomorrow night."

Eileen was silent, looking at the polished cube and wondering what she would look like inside of it, bound and helpless and on display for dozens of people to see her.  Mark had earned a reputation in the L.A. area and his showings were always well attended.  Just the thought of being on display sent shivers through her.

"Is that what my Master wishes of me?" Eileen finally asked.

"Yes, my little slave, that is what I wish for you."

Eileen knew Mark would not do anything to cause her harm and would make sure everything was safe.  She entrusted him with her body and her soul.  It would be a new step for both of them.  It was one she was very nervous about but one that deep within her, she was excited about as well. 

"And, my dear little slave, it is not the largest piece I have ever done.  There were three others that were about the same size, though they were all very different in composition.  However, I think you will agree this one will be the most rousing piece I have ever done."

Eileen laughed and kissed on the cheek.  Mark was wearing one of the widest grins she had ever seen and he seemed almost giddy with the idea of her and the auction.

"Until tomorrow, Master, what you wish of this slave?" she laughed.

"Let us get you into something a little more comfortable. . ."


The 'something a little more comfortable' turned out to be pairs of black leather thigh cuffs, ankle cuffs and wrist cuffs along with a narrow black leather collar to match.  Mark had also gagged his blonde slave with a black leather pear-shaped gag that filled her mouth comfortable but still kept her relatively silent.  She stood leashed again to the bed, each of her wrists locked the one of her thighs.  Her ankles were locked together as well and she found in hard to shuffle around anywhere like that.  After Mark had shown her the sculpture she was to be a part of, he took her down stairs, undid her white single glove and collar while sharing a glass of Champaign before giving her a relaxing shower.  He insisted on scrubbing her down himself, using a pink loffa foaming with rose-smelling soap.  Mark made sure that every inch of her was clean and pink from his attentions.  Afterward, he toweled her off and placed her into her present bindings.

The most difficult part of all this is that Mark placed a small, vibrating egg between her legs, just touching her sex-swollen lips.  He warned her about dropping that egg onto the floor, that she would spend the rest of the night in a tight hogtie on the floor of his closet with nothing to keep her company save for the same egg held in place by a crupper. 

'How long is he going to leave me like this?' Eileen thought to herself.  She knew he was downstairs getting something from the kitchen, but he should have been back by now.  The buzzing between her legs was driving her insane with pure, unadulterated lust and there was not a thing she could do to alleviate it.

"I see you haven't lost your precious egg yet," Mark noticed as he came back into the room. 

Mark hadn't bothered to dress himself and he smelled of soap and shampoo.  He was a little under six-foot tall and was what most people would call a 'medium build'.  He worked out at home and though Mark wasn't muscle bound, he was sturdy and trim with scarcely any body hair save for his neatly trimmed sandy-colored hair.  He reminded Eileen of some of those Greek god statues she had seen in the museum in Athens.

"Uhhhhh-uuuuuuuhhhh," Eileen said, shaking her head.

"You know, you look utterly edible, my little slave."

Eileen laughed around her gag.

"I bet you are hungry too," he said, " I bet I know what you are hungry for."

Eileen nodded.

Mark stepped up to her and gently removed the buzzing egg.  It was a mixture of relief and disappointment to have her vibrating friend taken away from her.  Mark then undid her leash and eased her onto the bed; the covers still a mess from their previous lovemaking.

"Would you like me to remove your gag, Eileen?"

She paused for a second and then she shook her head no.  Eileen knew how much Mark enjoyed the sounds she made while wearing the gag as well as the effect it had on her libido. It was almost like being a shaken up bottle of champagne and the gag was the cork.  It kept all of the ecstasy from spilling out of her.  The gag kept it all inside and intensified it; made her pleasure all the more intense.

Mark was much more gentle this time when he helped her into bed and lay next to her.  He began to trace little paths over her skin with the tip of his finger, touching all of her 'hot spots' lightly.  His fingertip traced little circles around her right nipple, causing it to tingle a little bit more.  This was as bad as having the egg tease at her sex.  I caused within her a lust that she could not quench.

Eileen started to writhe in her bonds, trying to get her master to pay attention to more pressing matters, like making her cum.  However, Eileen knew Mark and her could tease her like this for hours and there was nothing she could do; no whining, no squirming, no pleading, no thrusting could make him do what she desired for him to do.

Each touch was electric.

Mark brought out another vibrator, one that was slender and smooth and metallic blue in color.  He eased its tip between her swollen lips and began to run it slowly up and down her slit.  The vibrators hum sending jolt after jolt of pure pleasure into her, building another orgasm within her. 

"You cannot cum without my permission, my slave," he whispered into her ear.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Eileen moaned into her gag.

"No amount of whining will make me change my mind, dear one," Mark smiled as he teased her some more.

"Nnnnhhhhhhh," she moaned again, feeling her orgasm filling her like a hot whirlwind.

"If you cum, your punishment will be more dreadful than you can possibly imagine," he said.

Normally, she could hold off her orgasm by thinking thoughts about grocery lists or chores she had to do around the house, but every fiber of her being was now being focused on cumming and she couldn't think of anything else.  The blinding white pleasure hit her like a speeding train and totally engulfed her. Only afterward, as the waves of bliss ebbed away slowly, did she regret her cum.

"You have been a very bad slave," Mark said, "and for that, you shall be punished."



story now continues in Part Two


Since it is usually a long space of time between postings and re-postings of this story, I am compiling a mailing list so that you can receive chapters as they are produced. If you would like to be on that list, please e-mail me at [email protected]. Or visit my weblog at http://fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/ . Any and all comments are welcomed and appreciated.