Art Exhibitionism

She didn't know how she could make it through the night.

Another man was coming through the curtain. Zoe needed to be strong. She had to be harsh and critical. It was the entire point of the piece. She wasn't supposed to be spending tonight drooling over strange men's dicks.

It was Devon. For a second, Zoe's mind whirled. Was Devon about to pull out his cock in front of her? Strangely, her body responded to the idea for a moment, the warmth of lust that had been slowly building over the past hour flaring into flames. Then her mind caught up. Of course Devon wasn't here to whip out his dick. There must be something going on with the show.

Her suspicions were immediately confirmed. "Listen, babe," said Devon with a wince, "We have a small problem."

"What happened?" Zoe said, wide-eyed. Worst-case scenarios flitted through her mind. A protest, a fire, a damaged piece of artwork.

"The guests aren't happy," said Devon with chagrin.

Zoe paused for a moment, not comprehending, then rolled her eyes. "Of course they aren't. It's sort of the point of the entire piece. They're supposed to feel judged like they are judging me."

"I know, Zoe. I know. But I'm sorry to say that the guests just aren't feeling a connection with you as an artist the way the piece is currently being performed."

Zoe felt her stomach drop as she absorbed what Devon was saying. It was the worst-case scenario. The main goal of her performances was to feel a deep connection between artist and viewer. Devon was saying she had failed.

"But... but the parallels are perfect!" said Zoe in frustration. "They judge me when they walk through the gallery, then they feel the judgment turned back onto them. It works." Even as she said it, she could hear her whining tone, and saw Devon's smile become patronizing.

"You are a famous artist who had professional photos taken of your pussy and chose the most attractive ones to display to the public," explained Devon. "These are just average men who didn't know ahead of time they would be flashing a pretty woman their dick. You can see why they would still feel like there was a power imbalance."

Zoe gritted her teeth, but she saw Devon's logic. With the way things were currently set up, the visitors would probably be resistant to the connection she was trying to make with them. She wasn't sure what she could do. The old fear she had of her art flopping and ruining her career came roaring back. She leaned back against the iron grating behind her and tried to think of a way to salvage the piece. Her strange arousal felt like it was clouding her mind.

"I think I know of a way that you could make your crowd feel a little less alienated," said Devon soothingly.

Zoe looked up into Devon's eyes, eager for a solution to her problem. "What? What's your plan?" she asked with shining eyes.

"Well," said Devon slowly, "Sitting there in such severe clothes while asking them to disrobe... that's a big part of what's keeping people from making a connection with you. You feel closed off, like you are placing yourself above them. What if your appearance was a little more... vulnerable?"

Zoe knew what he meant right away. "You think that I should go topless again." The idea was intriguing. It sent an insistent flush of heat through her skin, making her feel alive. "But that is the main criticism that I'm responding to! The critics have been saying that the only way that I've been pushing the envelope is going topless again and again. Wouldn't getting my tits out tonight just prove them right?"

Devon shook his head. "Not if you go one step further. Remember, what is this exhibition focusing on?"

"My pussy..." said Zoe numbly.

Devon wanted her to strip completely nude. To sit here in this private booth naked while a parade of strange men came in to show her their cocks. Zoe's pulse drummed in her ears as her pussy grew wet at the prospect of its upcoming live debut. In here... naked and alone... with the hard cocks of her horny fans. It was becoming hard to think. Was this the best idea? Would it make a good artistic statement? It all seemed so unclear. She needed Devon to help her decide what to do. And to do that he needed all the information, no matter how humiliating it was to her.

"Devon, I have to tell you something," she said nervously. "I don't know if pushing the envelope is a good idea right now... Earlier, when I was rating those men's cocks. I... I got turned on..." she added the last part in a miserable whisper, hiding her face in her hands at the humiliating confession. "I think that things might get... crazy if I turn up the heat any further."

But far from disgusting Devon, the new information seemed to excite him. "But Zoe, that's perfect! In a performance, when you and the audience begin to feel something together, you need to chase it! That's where the true heart of the performance lies. If this process aroused both you and your audience, we don't need to fight that; we need to embrace it. In fact, we should go one step further than you just being nude. We need to do something that will provoke maximum arousal from both you and the audience."

Zoe's mouth was dry at the fire blazing in Devon's eyes. "One step further than naked? Maximum arousal? Wh-what do you mean?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"Wait here for just a minute," said Devon with an excited grin. "I need to grab some materials."

...

Zoe's breath panted harshly, hot and wet in her throat. She looked down at the finished product: the work of erotic art Devon had created from her body. Her hands had been cuffed to the metal grating above her head, leaving her unable to conceal anything even if she wanted to.

But her lower body was the real focus of this piece. Using soft black ropes, Devon had bound together her calves and thighs, forcing her legs to stay bent at the knee. Then he had laid Zoe on her back, tying each thigh to an opposite leg of the bench, keeping her legs spread wide open and leaving her pussy fully on display.

Zoe had to admit that it was a powerful restatement of what was being displayed in the main gallery: the artist was exposed to the critical eye of her viewer. Zoe's most intimate, private place would be fully, rawly, helplessly displayed to anyone who walked in the room, live and in person.

The idea was driving Zoe crazy already. The feeling of being bound and exposed, which had sent her into a lustful frenzy during her last big performance, was assaulting her mind with desperate arousal once again. Her pussy throbbed almost painfully in anticipation as it leaked sticky, clear fluids of eager excitement down her thighs and butt, leaving them wet and shiny from her arousal.

"Well, the line is getting anxious," said Devon, looking down and proudly surveying his work. "I think it is time for your next cock rating."

"W-wait," whimpered Zoe, trying desperately to think. For some reason, something didn't feel right. Like Devon had tricked her somehow. Like he had used twisted logic to make her arrive at the wrong answer. What was the message of this performance supposed to be again? It was on the tip of her tongue, but for some reason, she couldn't quite remember. She had a gut feeling that Devon's idea to connect her to the viewers would undermine what the art installation was supposed to be saying.

Devon kneeled down next to Zoe, a kind look in his eyes. "Shhhh, you're overthinking this Zoe. You want to connect with your viewers, right? You want to feel what they feel towards you? That's what you need to focus on."

The men from before... their hard cocks stiff and eager... desperate for her... dripping with desire. Zoe's pulse quickened. Her eyes dilated. It had felt so wrong, but so exciting to see how she had affected those men, how much they burned for her. How much stronger would the feeling be now, helpless and bound and displayed for their pleasure? Before their arousal had echoed in her, turned her on in response. Even then it had been almost overwhelming, when she was sitting fully clothed and in control. She imagined what it would feel like now, how much stronger the reactions would be of both her and her audience. What would it feel like?

She had to know.

"Are you ready, Zoe?" said Devon, using a hand to gently smooth back her braided hair.

Zoe bit her lip and nodded desperately, her eyebrows drawn together in an expression of nervous anticipation.

Devon smiled and left through the curtain.

"Send through the next man," he told the staff at the front of the line, wearing a wolfish grin.

...

When the first stranger came through the dark curtains, Zoe's arms clanked instinctively against the handcuffs. From when she was young, it had been drilled into her relentlessly: her pussy was sacred. Special. To remain absolutely hidden at all times. Her parents, media, and society in general had all told her the same. Zoe rarely even felt comfortable having sex with the lights on when she was dating someone. So her brain responded to the prying eyes of the strange man on a gut level, telling her hands to hurry between her legs to cover her exposed womanhood.

But that wasn't possible.

The intensely taboo feeling of being exposed to a stranger while helpless and bound overwhelmed her. She felt faint. Her nipples pulsed with the intensity of blood flow stiffening them. The strange man grinned at the sight of the beautiful famous woman, tied up and displayed for his viewing pleasure. Now that she was in such a submissive posture, the intense arousal Zoe felt was almost overwhelming. Zoe opened her mouth, took a shuddering breath, and managed to horsely say: "Your cock. Show me."

The man needed no further prompting, he pulled a short thick cock out of his shorts, obviously as hard as a rock. Zoe's pussy pulsed heat up her body, flooding her brain with warm sticky fog. This was bad. She knew that the connection between her and her viewers would be intense, but at this rate, things might go too far. She wasn't just horny, she felt raw unbridled lust toward this strange repulsive man. The only thing that saved her from foolishly consummation their mutual arousal was the thick red line of tape that the visitor wasn't allowed to cross, keeping him on the far side of the room. Zoe's libido was running wild, her pussy was trying desperately to override her brain. A thin line of precum oozed from the man's dick.

"S-seven!" called Zoe desperately, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "Next!"

The man in front of her looked a little disappointed, but his eyes lingered on the exposed artist as he exited, imprinting her naked form into his memory.

...

Devon watched in delight as Zoe's pussy rating jumped up to 3.13.

Devon knew what men wanted. All these artistic shots of vaginas were well and good, but men preferred pussy in person, submissive, and dripping wet.

He looked at the line of men, now stretching across the exhibition hall.

He wondered how long it would take Zoe to let some of the men take things further...

...

It had been another ten men since the first one and Zoe was getting desperate. Her pussy burned with an itching, needy, unquenchable lust. She didn't know that it was possible to be this horny. She desperately wanted her hands to be released, but now it was just so she could play with herself.

Zoe could tell the next man was trouble. He entered the room with a chest-puffing swagger and was clearly a step up in attractiveness from her online fans before him in line. Many of the men who had entered before had done a nervous double take when they saw Zoe's shameful state, but as this man's eyes locked firmly on her exposed pussy, a big confident smile slowly spread across his face.

Zoe gulped. "Ummm, could you show me your...?"

"Way ahead of you babe," said the man arrogantly, dropping his pants completely and stepping out of them. Zoe's eyes widened and a thin line of drool escaped her parted lips. His cock was huge. Beautiful. Rock hard.

Her arousal had been off the charts even with the unimpressive cocks she had seen earlier today, but this was a cock she would have been interested in even outside the overheated environment of the art exhibit.

"What do you think, sweetheart?" said the man in a soft, gloating voice.

It took Zoe a moment to register that he had been talking, her eyes and brain were locked on his penis. 'Oh..." she said dreamily, a giggle bubbling up from her throat, "It's goooood. Like an eight for sure."

"Just an eight? You haven't even seen it up close!" said the man in a disappointed tone. "Do you think..." he traced a foot along the red line of tape indicating where the guests were supposed to stay. "...That maybe I can break the rules a little and get closer?

Zoe hesitated. She remembered that it was she who had insisted on the line of red tape in the first place. It had seemed really important at the time for some reason. She looked longingly at the big manly cock across the room from her. She did want a closer look. And she had been who made the rule in the first place.

"You can cum... come closer I mean," she said in a hoarse voice, her eyes following every shift and bob of the man's dick as he crossed the red line, moving closer to Zoe's restricted, vulnerable body.

Finally, he stood above her, looming over her tied-up body, blocking the light. His cock was close enough that she could trace every vein beneath the skin with her curious eyes. Instinctively, Zoe's eyes moved up to her visitor's face, locking on to his powerful blue gaze. Now that Zoe had willing welcomed him across the line, what other lines would this arrogant guest want to cross? Zoe was bound in a perfect position for deep penetration. She was so turned on that if the man placed his cock at the entrance of her pussy, he could slide inside her silky wet hole with almost zero resistance, filling her completely with his big, hard, beautiful...

"Still an eight?" He asked, amused.

"Eight point f-five." said Zoe, feeling the deep ache of need in her pussy as she stared deep into this man's dominant gaze.

"Just wait until you see it in action," said the man confidently. Now he was wrapping a powerful hand around his cock, slowly pumping his fist up and down its length. Zoe's eyes drank in the sight, feeling the powerful exchange of sexual energy between her and this stranger as he pleasured himself, staring at her displayed body.

"You... you can't," Zoe said vaguely, her eyes glazing over as her eyes flicked up and down with the rhythm of his hand. God she wanted to have that cock in her mouth. Her pussy. But what would they say about her? She couldn't. She musn't. "This... this is art, not something sexual," she protested absurdly while her pussy dripped down her legs.

"This IS art, Zoe," said the man, overriding her weak protest. His hand was growing faster and faster, his cock so close that Zoe imagined she could feel the heat rolling off it. Zoe's thighs flexed against the ropes, her instincts telling her to get closer to this superior male. "You've inspired me, Zoe. I feel a deep connection between us. We aren't just strangers anymore. Call me by my name. Tell me to show you how much you've inspired me."

Zoe's lips were parted, drawing in hot desperate breaths, her eyes shone as she asked in a voice tinged with pleasure, "What's your name, baby?"

"Tyler." grunted the man above her, the motions of his hand growing frantic.

"Cum for me Tyler!" moaned Zoe, lost in the submissive role Tyler had placed her in.

Hot white cum splattered over Zoe's body, leaving dots and globs of hot sticky goo all over her dark brown skin, making a vivid contrast. One fleck landed on her lower lip, and as she closed her eyes, bathing in the feeling of satisfaction that she sensed from her audience member, her little pink tongue flicked out to taste the proof of her and Tyler's connection. It wasn't as satisfying as actually touching the cock, let alone getting fucked by it, but this was surely a good compromise. Letting the strange men cum on her body allowed her to satisfy her viewers without actually having sex with them. So it wasn't slutty at all when you thought about it.

When Zoe opened her eyes, she noticed the young man kneeling down and reaching for something. He peeled away the red tape and walked back towards Zoe, reapplying it just inches from the foot of the bench where she was displayed.

"I thought this would make your evening a little more interesting," he said with a wink. "I've always loved art, Zoe, and I think that I'm going to be following the rest of your career with great interest."

And with a wave, Tyler was gone, moving on to rate her pussy.

When the next man came in, his eyes widened when he saw the tied-up, cum splattered artist.

"Show me your cock!" said Zoe with an excited grin as the man stepped forward to the newly moved red line.

"And start stroking for me."

...

Devon looked up at the glowing red lights, now reading 9.6.

Good job you little slut. I'm sure you found all kinds of ways to increase your rating, he thought with satisfaction.

The media team exited the booth and the man with the video camera gave Devon a thumbs-up. "We asked the last couple of guys if we could film. We'll have to blur their faces, but we got some really hot stuff."

Devon thanked him and waited until they had left to enter the booth and see how his artist-in-residence had done tonight.

Zoe flashed him a dopey smile up at him as he entered. Every inch of her lovely brown skin was dripping with sticky, slimy baby batter. Globby clumps of it slid off her gorgeous tits. Her long tightly-braided hair would probably smell like cum for a month. Her pussy was the worst off. The exposed target, clearly demonstrating the bound artist's extreme arousal, must have been too tempting for most of the men. Zoe's upper thighs, triangular patch of pubic hair, and puffy swollen cunt were covered in a thick glaze of cum, completely drenching the young artist's pussy in the filthy jizz of a dozen strangers. Devon hoped she was on the pill, because she was playing with fire having that much cum on her pussy, even only on the surface.

Devon stared down into Zoe's dreamy eyes, long since put into a daze by the constant overwhelming lust of being tied up and masturbated over by her adoring fans. Ropes of thick white goo stained her beautiful face. All except for her lips, which were as clean as usual, silently showing how deep her depravity had gone tonight.

"You naughty girl," said Devon teasingly, "Did you start judging cocks by the taste of their cum?""

Zoe giggled. "Hmmmm, are you jealous, baby?" she said, looking up into his eyes and making a kissy face.

"Why would I be jealous when I get to have more than they did?" said Devon, pulling his cock from his pants. Zoe's eyes regained a measure of clarity as she saw Devon's cock. She remembered the careful lines she had drawn in her mind. Make-outs aside, she had to remain completely professional with Devon. No matter how desperately she wanted a cock in her mouth.

"Devon... w-we can't. We're creative partners. I don't have sex with people I work with. I'm not some sort of s-slut." she protested weakly, stranger's cum dripping from her face.

But Devon could see the telltale signs of arousal. Her flushed cheeks, her labored breath, the stiff peaks of her nipples. Zoe had been drooling for cock all evening, but her morals hadn't allowed her to give in. Devon could tell that all it would take was a little assertiveness.

Devon positioned himself above Zoe, thrusting his cock right up to her face. She couldn't take her eyes off it. He could feel her warm breaths as her lips parted instinctively. Her warm, nervous eyes gazed softly up into his. The evening locked in submissive bondage, the unbearable erotic experience of being splattered with the cum of her fans, and the dominant postion of Devon looming above her short-circuted her resistance.