tagNonConsent/ReluctancePlease Touch The Art

Please Touch The Art


This is my entry for the Nude Day 2018 contest. Thank you for reading and voting!

All characters are 18 or older.


Janie's uncharacteristic smile was a permanent fixture since the day the judge had fallen for her helpless woman routine. In fact, she was shocked her ex-husband had bought it for so long. For nearly five years, the fool believed she loved him. Paul was so easy to manipulate it was almost sad. Unfortunately for him, half his fortune would soon be transferred to her bank account.

Everything was really going her way, except for one thing. She had to find a job. That hadn't been part of her plan, but her ex-idiot's team of attorneys tricked her. She tossed the unsorted mail on top of the overflowing garbage, her smile fading as she recalled the point during the trial when Paul's fury vanished. His grin became ecstatic the moment she assured the judge that she could hold down a job. Paul had purposely manipulated her into saying that, and now she actually had to do it! To top it all off, the judge had even given a deadline.

She tossed her empty champagne bottle into the garbage, causing a red envelope to drift out. Her fingers stroked the high quality vellum as she read the return address. It was from the Industrial Art Gallery and addressed to her ex-husband. "Art? Boy do they have the wrong guy," she muttered. Inside was an invitation to a private art exhibit featuring nude models of exquisite beauty. "Well, that explains it," she said, smirking. Paul wasn't interested in art, but he definitely appreciated exquisite beauty.

She flipped the card to discover that the premier was the next night. "Well, I could do a nude modelling gig. I'm exquisite as hell," she said, using her cellphone to explore the website listed on the invitation. They were still hiring and the auditions would continue until noon the day of the opening.

The job paid big bucks, and she could hardly believe her luck. "They'll hire me on the spot," she said, pleased that her boring job hunting experience had ended so quickly. If they didn't hire her, she'd persuade them with a blow job fit for a king. That never failed to get her what she wanted, and had even won her a stupidly rich husband.

She sent a text to her personal stylist, telling the girl to get her ass to the penthouse, pronto. Tomorrow she'd arrive with a silky-smooth waxed body; her golden pubic hair trimmed into a perfect diamond, and her long blonde hair arranged like a goddess.


It was precisely 11:55 AM when she rang the buzzer beside the artfully rusted metal doors. The elegant white dress showed off her tanned, shapely body to perfection. It hugged her narrow waist and shoved her world-class cleavage up and out. She applied a coat of red lipstick while examining the building's exterior. On the street behind her, traffic slowed, horns honked and men catcalled, but she ignored it all and frowned. The Industrial Art Gallery was a hell-hole. It wasn't the least bit impressive to her superficial eyes. It was good the job paid well, because the place looked like a warehouse in a fisherman's wharf.

When a burly man answered, her icy blue eyes summed him up in an instant and dismissed him as a lowly doorman. She was running late and didn't have time to spend on a service person, so she got right to the point. "I'm here for a modelling job," she said, her full lips unsmiling as she fluffed up her voluminous cleavage. "Good god. I hope this place is nicer on the inside."

"Yeah? Opposite of you, ain't it," he replied in a gruffly reverberating voice, bowing slightly as he waved her inside and started to lead the way through the dimly lit labyrinth of halls towards the main exhibition. "Figure you'll be perfect for the job from your looks, lucky you don't need a brain or manners." He smirked, revealing perfect teeth, apart from one gold canine that glinted brightly. "You into art, sweetie? Don't look the type, need some depth to you. What do they call you? Barbie, Candi, Stormy?"

Her eyes roamed blatantly over the man's body, noting his muscles and handsome face with disdain. He was just another shallow, good looking man with little to nothing upstairs. "Oh, my. You're almost like a caveman, aren't you? I'm starting to believe what I heard about muscled men bulking up to compensate for tiny brains and small cocks. Don't strain yourself trying to guess, doorman. I'm Janie."

He opened an almost concealed door, revealing a fair sized room. "So, I'm Fairburn, gallery owner, and you'll do." He grinned again, offering her a calloused and muscled hand to shake, "Challenging position, you've got to be open to it. Art's gotta be accessible to the public, ain't it? Five day run, contract's extensible by one party as long as show's a success, five hours a day base, same deal. You in then, sweetie?"

"You're the gallery owner? You can't be serious. I'd think that would require some intelligence," she said, feeling no remorse for insulting him. She quickly pulled her hand out of his to begin negotiations. "I'm definitely up to the modelling, no problem there. Do I get any break time during the five hours of modelling? If not, I'll need a higher pay."

"We could negotiate for that," he replied cheerfully, looking her up and down thoroughly. "Like the letter said, it's nude work so I'll have to inspect you first. I've got a queue of wannabes coming today but I like the look, and attitude. Strip then, just imagine you're back at the cheap club you started at." Fairburn chuckled as he leaned back on the edge of his desk, legs apart and hands resting on his thighs. "Get me hard and you're hired, ain't a charity here for ugly chicks."

The man's condescending attitude didn't bother her because she considered him inconsequential. It didn't matter that there wasn't any music, as she began her skilled act. Her graceful movements were mesmerising as she relaxed and began the erotic performance. The routine came back to her like second nature until she stood before him completely naked, her voluptuous body pure perfection.

He shrugged, "Seen better but you might do. Should have a word with your butcher about those fakes though." Fairburn smirked as he commented on her clearly real breasts, enjoying the chance to knock her down a peg. Her arrogance and attitude were ideal, and would prevent him feeling at all guilty about the job. "Suck me off and I'll give you the job. Whore like you will enjoy it."

She wasn't surprised or offended by his request because she knew every man wanted her. Many would even kill to have her. The thought made her nipples harden and her pussy wet. Before she blessed him with her full, red lips on his cock, she wanted to settle something and turned to retrieve the invitation from her purse. She bent at the waist to do so, presenting him with a view of her flawless ass and the swell of her glistening labia.

"I'm glad you agree that I'm an exquisite beauty and we both know you've never seen better," she said, returning to shove most of the papers off his desk, and sitting on the remainder of them. Her every move was calculated as she fanned herself with the invitation so the perfume drifted over him. She scooted closer, more paperwork scattering in the process and some smeared with the juices of her wet pussy, feeling sure that her enticing aroma would only add to whatever she sat upon.

"Let's negotiate first, caveman. It says on here there are other nude models and I want the best placement. I insist on being the main feature of this art exhibit. Also, this invitation has my ex-husband's old address. It needs to be delivered to his new one today. I wrote it on there," she said, tucking the red card in his shirt pocket. She chuckled as she pictured Paul seeing her there. When they were married, not a day passed where he didn't want to fuck her. He couldn't get enough of her, and now he'd see what he could no longer have. "Oh, and I'm not getting on my knees in here. The floor is filthy."

The man tossed a folder onto the floor, "Kneel on that then, sweetie. Do a good job and I'll even send it by messenger so he gets it in time." He spat to the side to show his contempt in a showy manner as he felt befitted his artistry, leering at her cheerfully as he pushed her away and towards the floor. "Get that mouth doing something useful and we can get you introduced to the gallery. Took serious work to set up. Not that you get the idea of work."

He undid his flies to let a thick cock stand free, although only at half mast. "Would you look at that? Don't look like you're that impressive, does it?" Fairburn jeered casually, trailing a finger through the smear she left on the desk. "You can wipe this up later too. I hope you've got a doctor's certificate proving you're not contagious?"

Janie glared up at him, momentarily forgetting her superiority. "Of course I'm not contagious, you oaf. I've been in a monogamous relationship for the past five years. I'd be happy to undergo a physical exam if it's necessary. There's time before the show starts tonight. Get a doctor in here if you insist." She ignored his cock, determined not to touch him until she had a solid commitment. "You didn't answer yet about me being the star attraction."

"Fine, I'll not bother with the other girls. You want star attraction, you've got it. Have to extend your shifts but it's not strenuous work, you'll be fine." The man rested a hand on her head and pushed down steadily, "Shut up with your screeching now and get to work. Swallow it down with a smile and you've proved yourself, ain't you? For your info though, ain't monogamy if you fuck everyone around." His cock brushed her lips, precum smearing over them as it came to full erection.

Janie was glad she'd had her long hair pinned up, so it would stay out of the way. On their first date, Paul told her she was a natural at cock-sucking and it made her strive to be the best. After his pointers during their marriage and her extensive research, she'd entered the realm of experts. Janie learned everything she could on the subject, from lip and tongue strength exercises to deep-throating. Paul was very pleased and had fucked her perfect mouth in every way humanly possible.

She was a vision of incomparable beauty as her red lips opened to wrap tightly around the head of Fairburn's cock. He was taller than he looked and she caught his hips to quickly adjust her height, resting her ass on her heels. He had an impressively thick cock and her fingertips didn't meet as they wrapped around it. Her strong tongue flicked the tip while completing her assessment, deciding it was the perfect length for sucking.

Keeping her eyes fixed to his, she sucked him inside her warm mouth in one long, smooth stroke to get him nicely lubed up with saliva. Her highly conditioned gag reflex would only be summoned at her command and she smashed her mouth against his crotch to let his cock push against the back of her throat. Holding it there, she moaned in delight to show her eagerness as her hands held his hips.

The man yawned and stretched melodramatically, glancing down at her. "Oh, you've started? Didn't notice," he taunted, deliberately unimpressed by her posture and sounds. "Let me help you." He grabbed her head with both hands and pumped it vigorously on his shaft, crushing her nose into his crotch again and again.

Fairburn ignored any noises or protests she might make as he took her mouth deeply, cock stretching her lips taut around him. The man slammed into her without mercy, fingers gripping her hair so she couldn't pull away. "Knew you were this kind of slut when I saw you," he grunted between thrusts. "Suck hard though and then swallow it all." Within a minute he was cumming, a huge load that had built up during the weeks of work on his exhibition.

When he released her, Janie fell away from him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she glared daggers into his soul. "You're a complete and utter barbarian!" she stated, standing up and putting her dress back on. No man had ever ruined one of her ultimate blowjobs so completely. He'd taken pure perfection and turned it into something sleazy. "It was like I was performing oral sex on a goddamned gorilla," she muttered, opening her purse to retrieve her makeup kit. Looking around, she decided his desk was the best spot and sat down, shoving his papers aside to repair the damage to her makeup and hair. "For the record, your cock is never entering my mouth again."

He chuckled and straightened up, "That's what you say but I know a slut like you can't live without cock, especially not a gorilla cock." He patted her shoulder lightly and smiled at her. "Sign here and you're sorted," he pressed a pen into her hand and her let her sign the contract, "so come on, sweetie, have a look at the exhibition space before I send the private invitation to your ex-husband. Best you get used to it for a bit so you don't look awkward and trashy in public, no more than you need to anyway."

Fairburn led her back out to the main hall then bent slightly, taking hold of the hem of her dress and whipping it off and over her head. "No need for this, or the bag. I'll lock them in the office for security, but keep the heels on. Six inch white stilettos suit your personality." His hand clasped her elbow in a firm but gentle grip as he brought her to stand in a gilded frame fitted to the floor, a painting of an idyllic garden mounted in it like a rug. A dim light filled the room, enough to make out shapes at close range but not details, which is why the cuffs on her wrists came as such a surprise. The man had reached up, catching a servo arm above them in each hand and pulling them down. Foam padding lined cuffs had clicked onto her wrists, tight enough that there was no possibility of escape.

"Hey, hold on a minute. Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?" she asked, finding her wrists suddenly immobilized.

Fairburn smiled as he reached for another, this one a longer belt that went around her slender waist and lifted her to her tiptoes. "Well, what do you think of it? The machinery will guide you into a series of poses, flowing gracefully from one to another as though you were a living piece of art. It's designed to show that anyone can be art, even without training, or a body like yours." Two more went on her ankles and a final one, with a harness of fine gold bands, on her head. The three spotlights went on then, illuminating her fully, clearly visible to herself in the mirrored walls that lined the gallery.

"I don't see what there is to smile about when you're about to lose your ass on this nonsense. This contraption must have cost you a fortune. I know I'm pure perfection, but you can't believe that anyone would want to see me being manipulated into weird poses. You're not going to succeed in the art industry with ridiculous ideas like this," she said, glancing in the mirrors. The lighting and machine faded into the background, making her the main attraction, just as she'd wanted. However she was now having second thoughts. She tugged at her wrists again to verify that she was trapped and quickly decided against the entire deal. "I have absolutely no interest in something that will be an utter failure, and to be honest, this is insanely creepy," she said, looking the man in the eye.

"Too late now, there's a lot of money invested in this and it can't go ahead without you. Specifically you." The man smirked in a knowing way, lifting a transparent gag in front of her face. He forced her mouth open, teeth slightly parted as the gag slid in between them and pressed tightly to their fronts. A quick insert of a pump, valve concealed by her cheek, soon inflated the inner portion and silenced her complaints. The careful shape forced her mouth into a bright smile as he stepped back to admire it.

"Try to fight and you'll just hurt yourself, and I'm not taking you out of this for the full run," Fairburn announced as he stepped behind her and fitted a triplet of plugs into her cunt, urethra and ass. They were inflated slightly to form a good seal before he gave the gilded bar a quick final buff. "You'll be cleaned out twice daily, I've hired a vet to deal with that. Ready?" He stepped in front of her and pointed to the buttons in the frame moulding, tapping one that smoothly moved her into a downward facing, ass up posture.

Janie's eyes were wide as her body was manipulated into the first pose. Had that slimy bastard said she'd be "cleaned out" twice daily by a veterinarian? This was absolutely insane! Unfortunately, the gag in her mouth prevented her from complaining and her wide eyes just looked like a part of the routine, the dark mascara on her long, curled lashes exaggerating the effect. The view she had currently was upside-down through her legs, in the mirror behind her. She could see herself clearly and even though she was furious, it looked like she was smiling. That pissed her off even more and she found Fairburn's reflection in the mirror and narrowed her eyes at him, hardly able to believe the caveman was smart enough to trick her into such a hideous job.

About five minutes later, she was moved into another pose, and the volume was turned up. "The Eagle Pose," a feminine recorded voice echoed through the room. Soft classical music began as her body was straightened and one arm was curved around the other while the same thing happened with one leg. She was pretty sure the pose was yoga, but she'd never participated in that boring ass exercise because her body was already beyond compare.

The man returned and gave her a firm slap on the rear, his hand leaving a red print. "Oh yes, it'll automatically reset your pose between every five and thirty minutes even if no one hits a button. In generosity though, the buttons only work every two minutes so you get a brief respite." His voice was smoother now, vocabulary bigger without the need to act dumb. "Would you care to know who my main patron in this is? He sunk ninety per cent of his fortune into it, entirely irrevocable by, for example, a divorcing gold digger?" Fairburn grinned and flicked up a photo on his phone, of her ex giving her the finger, before heading toward the door.

He stood by it and snapped his fingers for her attention. "Private viewing now, I believe you've met the audience already." As the doors opened, in strode Paul and his entire legal team, who'd written the contract to be watertight, and his friends. They whistled as they saw her pose and hurried over to try the controls.

It was humiliating to have Paul and his friends see her trapped in the machine, and she was so infuriated that her face was slightly red. Her toes curled under and she managed to fold over all of her fingers except her middle ones to show her true feelings. It was all she could do as the button was pushed and her body slowly and elegantly moved into a bowing pose. She was suddenly on her knees with her arms were stretched out on the floor in front of her and her ass in the air.

"Extended Puppy Pose," the feminine voice announced pleasantly, just before Beethoven's 5th Symphony began playing.

She wanted to glare at her ex-husband, but the controls kept her head down and her eyes staring straight at the floor. Angry muffled sounds escaped her, but they were completely drowned out by the annoying classical music. How had Paul come up with such a plan? Had the man said that he'd spent nearly his entire fortune on it? That just showed what Fairburn knew. Paul had hidden bank accounts overseas and wouldn't ever hurt for cash.

Fairburn smiled and nodded to Paul. "I was just telling her how all the joint funds went to this, shame how your net wealth is now in the thousands, isn't it? Even if she gets out of this, it's not like she'll be rich afterwards." He passed over a small control box, a knob on it marked from low to high.

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byrandiholiday© 6 comments/ 31251 views/ 17 favorites

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