Welcome! Thank you for coming. I needed a model for tonight’s gallery and, as far as models go, I’ve certainly found one.

Shall we get ready?

Before we start, I’d like you to look at my paintbrush.

Just study the paintbrush, so long and thin.

Tapered to rest in my fingers even as I move it in slow, even strokes.

Through the air.

It’s nice how it draws your eye all the way to the tip.

The black, velvet feathery tip.

Moving back and forth…up and down…

Nice slow, even strokes.

I want to show you the tools I’ll be using to decorate your body.

Tools like my long, slender paintbrush.

About to make slow, even strokes…

Across your body.

Breathing in…breathing out…just allowing yourself to relax…

Letting yourself fixate on the tip of the brush.

Thinking about it moving across your body.

Watching it move, slow and even, up and down, slow and even, up and down and up and down

Down…

down…

down…

Slipping all the way down…mind falling down…your robe falling down…

Off your shoulders…let my hand help you brush your robe off your shoulders.

Feeling the soft robe sliding across your body….drifting deeper…

Feeling the air on your bare skin…cool and light…drifting deeper…

You are naked now. You feel comfortable. You are here to model. You are my model. You will listen to my voice and feel what it tells you to feel. You will do what it tells you to do. Feeling safe and relaxed and drifting deeper and deeper…

Feel your legs resting underneath you, like heavy iron pillars supporting your body. Feel your feet glued to the floor. You could move them if you want, but for now, they feel too heavy and relaxed to move. It’s so much nicer to let them rest.

Feel your body resting on top of them…heavy…balanced…so at ease…

You don’t want to move…it feels too good to move…arms hanging down…breasts swaying nice and free…breathing in…breathing out…

Feel your head balanced on top of your neck…your eyes go glassy…you don’t need to keep track of my paintbrush anymore…

I put my paintbrush down…your eyes stay hovering in the air in front of you

…glassy…sleepy…soft…

Feel my hand gently stroke you face…my thumb drawing small circles around your forehead…

Around and around…feeling so good…thoughts draining away…head getting emptier and emptier…

Your head’s like a floating balloon now…pulling your whole body up…rising up like a light, helium balloon…more and more with every gently caress of my thumb…

Your feet are like iron…your head is light and floaty…Let your body get pulled nice and straight…nice and tall…chest arching forward just a littler…letting your tits stick out…on display.

You feel excited to be on display…you’re proud to stick out your chest…you love being my model.

You will stay here…too good to move…breathing in…breathing out…letting me know if you feel discomfort…

But for now, you are very comfortable…safe…relaxed…drifting deep, deep in trance…

I lift a sponge, dripping with deep indigo paint…I press the sponge against your collar bone. It feels wet, but warm…soft…relaxing…

You breathe deeper, a soft sigh escaping your lips, as I dab the sponge gently across the top of your body, tracing your collar bone and neck, barely pressing into the top of your breasts.

You feel the paint start to dry, the warm touch of the sponge lingering.

I dab the sponge down your sternum, through the valley of your cleavage. You can feel the edges brush past the inside of your tits, gently squeezing around the sponge. I blot more indigo paint around the bottom of your bust…down your mid line…across your navel…feeling so good and warm and relaxed wherever I take the sponge.

I stop just above your pubic mound. You feel the soothing warmth of the sponge just above your crotch, like a warm, wet washcloth.

You start to feel tingles between your legs…I hold the sponge just at the top of your bush…letting the anticipation start to tease you.

I take the sponge away and a shiver of disappointment ripples through you…still feeling too heavy and relaxed to move…eyes gazing forward…lost…

I bring the sponge back up to your breasts, now loaded with salmon-pink. I press and gently wipe the cozy warm sponge around the swell of your breasts…first the left then the right…

The pink swirls and blends with the indigo…I dab the sponge around the sides of your tits, the springing flesh gently yielding to the firm pressure of the sponge…I spread the pink around and under your boobs…left …then right…

Every gentle touch letting your drop deeper…drift farther…

Now I load up the sponge with glimmering gold…I slowly wave it in front your soft eyes…pretty, shimmering gold…such a beautiful, alluring color…

I wipe the soft sponge around your nipples, the warm paint relaxing you, the rough surface of the sponge against your nipples…

First the left…then the right…

A soft smile lifts on your face. The sponge feels tingly and exciting on your sensitive nipples.

I stand back, admiring my work so far. Your chest and stomach are a swirl of beautiful colors, your tits shining gold and amber like two twin setting suns in a balmy evening sky.

I pick up my brush again. There is no paint on the black, horsehair tip. I hold it up to your eyes again, letting your focus gently return to the brush.

I take my finger and give it a light flick…a light swish…back and forth with my finger…Watching the tip…flick and swish…

Drifting deeper…nice and relaxed…peaceful and calm…

I murmur to you…whenever you feel the flick of my brush…the swish of the paint against your skin…it’s going to feel like there is a small flick…a small swish…against your pussy.

Flicking up and down your slit…

Swishing back and forth against your clit…

I let the brush sink down, my eyes holding yours, as I give your slit a soft…

Flick…

Flick…

Flick..

As I move the brush…

Swish…

Swish…

Swish…

Against your clit…

It feels good. It feels exciting…a soft wet tongue licking you…but you can’t move…you don’t want to move…your too relaxed… too deep…to heavy to move…

But feeling every flick…flick…flick..

Every swish…swish…swish…against your clit.

Every time I move the brush against your skin, you will feel the flick and the swish on your slit and your clit.

I take the brush and dip it into my white paint. I bring the tip to your nipple, shiny and golden.

I let it gently flick across your nipple…The brush is cold now…ice cold…a shiver runs up your spine and you straighten just a little…but you still won’t move…

I let the brush go flick, flick, flick around your nipple…

Feeling every swish, swish, swish on your clit.

I trace swirly, spiraling white lines out from your nipples…first the left…then the right…

Moving the brush in slow, lazy arcs around your full breasts…around and around…swirly and spiraly…flick, flick…swish, swish…

The cold brush tickles your skin…the flicking strokes tickling your pussy…you smile a little wider…your eyes go just a little more vacant…so nice to let the brush tickle your tits…flicking your clit…

I trace the brush up and around, out from your golden nipples, across your amber-pink breasts, down your indigo body…making swirling patterns across your skin…dazzling, spiraling pattering in soft white paint.

I take the brush and load it with deep, onyx black…black as deep as midnight…I weave it once or twice in front of your eyes, letting the rich, dark color entrance you further…

I bring the brush back to your nipples…first the left…then the right…flicking and swishing the black next to the swirling white lines.

Flick, flick, flick…

Swish, swish, swish…

You drift and float…feeling the soothing cool touch of the brush…feeling the tingly warm flick on your pussy…

Time stretches as you sink deeper…your head blissful and blank…letting your body sway with my brush…

At last, the brush traces the last inch of your torso…You body is heavy…you mind quiet and vacant…

You are asleep with your eyes open, your body upright and on display…floating through a beautiful dream of colors and swirling spirals…sinking and drifting with the pretty colors…

You sense other people walking by you. They have come to view the gallery. They have come to view you. You love being on display for them.

You feel safe and relaxed.

Drifty and dreamy.

Beautiful and aroused.

People come up to you. They are drawn to you. They can’t help but admire you.

They can’t help but admire your beautiful body…your pretty tits…the wonderful swirls and designs…

You can see through your foggy trance…just a little…just enough to see the same foggy trance in the eyes of the people gazing at you…watching your body…drifting along with the pretty swirls and spirals around your beautiful, heavenly body…

You watch me come up and whisper to the people watching you…You see their eyes get heavy and empty…just like yours feel heavy and empty… You watch me lead them away…guiding them away to the back of the gallery…

You see more people come up to you…Your body luring them in…making them fuzzy and sleepy…drifty and spiraly…

You feel so good…heavy and relaxed…aroused and excited to know you are helping me gather more models…helping me expand my art gallery…with your irresistible body…just my pretty, sexy art trap…helping me entrance more models…

The gallery is closing now…There are several people sitting down, on a couch…their minds lost in a luscious trance filled with swirling spirals…filled with your breasts…

I come over to you…the new models can wait.

I stroke your hair. I run my hand down your bare back.

You did so well.

I tell you to feel your toes begin to wiggle…to feel your legs starting to shift. Your body feels heavy and just a little sore…your muscles loose…turning to jello.

I hold you gently and help you sit down on a comfy, padded chair. You can feel all the tension flowing out of you…down your legs…into the ground.

I hand you a glass of water, gently caressing your shoulders as you sip at the cup, letting the cool water ground you.

You feel alert, but just a little dazed. Happy, refreshed…

You take a deep breath in, stretching whatever part of you needs to be stretched.

Then I show you a mirror. Your eyes spin around the intricate patterns, the vibrant colors radiating from your body. You trace the soft curves over your breasts and sides. You remember the feel of the brush.

Flick…

Flick…

Flick…

Swish…

Swish…

Swish...

I take you by the hand, leading you gently to your feet, and guide you over to the shower in the back of the gallery. I turn on the tepid, warm water and soap up a sponge, climbing into the shower with you.

You begin to drift as I wash off the paint, your body nothing less than a gorgeous, pristine work of art.