J. A. Scott writes poetry and erotic fiction and has been published in Sidewalk's End, Green Tricycle and MindKites: Perceptions on the Fringe. She enjoys writing and researching non-stereotypical relationships and the many interpretations of the concept of Love. She lives and works in Northampton, Massachusetts.
"Introduction" and "Punishing Cicely" are the first in a series of seductive prose filled with erotic imagery and heart-filled emotions. Follow the links to read those stories you may have missed, or dive into the following as a stand-alone tale. Enjoy!
The Portraits of Cicely Series
Nude in the Bath, An introduction
"Nude in the Bath", a work in progress, was receiving some finishing graces at the light hand of Amy Lee, an up and coming figure artist. This particular work had dominated Amy's days for the past two months. She had lovingly placed gold highlights on every crease and fold of the body in the painting, lingering on the nipples and shadowed nether regions. The figure was sketched in an hour and completed by anyone else's standards two weeks ago. Amy, however was reluctant to close this creative experience. It was not the art that she was intrigued with, but rather the model.
Cicely was an Italian-born, 20 year old student at the Art Academy where Amy taught. A mane of copper curls spilled down Cicely's back, inadvertently drawing one's attention to her plump bottom. The curves of the student's lush body and ample bosom were poetry to the artist who had an eye for classical figures. Adding to her charm was an exceedingly shy demeanor. She never spoke above a whisper. Cicely was a living, breathing work of art, begging to be captured forever in oil on canvas.
Amy composed the painting in her mind after only a few classes of watching Cicely lay amateur strokes of color on her corner easel. Each time her arm would lift, Amy's eyes followed the trail of rippling muscles until it hid beneath the length of copper curls. She belonged in water, this renaissance nymph, and Amy, with her professional cunning, put her there.
They spoke only the most necessary of words over the past two months. Artist and student had become engaged, in this world of quiet stillness, each by the erotic elements of her position.
Cicely secretly reveled in the role of being an object of beauty, exposed in an elegant manor, that she could achieve no other way. Her past intimate experiences with both women and men, had left her longing for a real connection. Now, as her thin, raven-haired teacher's model, she was experiencing a sense of sexual purity, and fearing her services would be excused.
Amy's brush trembled as the final stroke fell. Nothing more could be done without complicating the sweet simplicity of the nude figure seated upon the edge of an antique clawed tub. She held her breath for a long moment, observing the light reflecting off Cicely's wet skin. Gleaming droplets of water trickled down the valley between her breasts.
"The painting is finished." Amy said, as she approached her model and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.
"I don't want to go." Cicely whispered, her eyes to the floor.
"You are the art, Cicely" Amy replied. "I could never capture your essence if we stayed this way for a thousand years. But there are others ways to express your beauty. Would you be willing to learn?"
Cicely stood to face her teacher, and met her eyes for the first time. Amy ran her open hand across her cheek, down her shoulder to her hand. She placed it on her own, diminutive breast. Each inhaled, and the long-desired connection was made.
Amy approached the bed where her naked figure model lay, face down, with legs spread wide. She slipped two fingers into the girl's moist vagina and maneuvered toward the spot that would arouse and revive Cicely. Her fingers fit snugly and worked inward and up, then back with a regular rhythm.
Enticed by Cicely's plump buttocks, Amy used her freehand to spread the globes of flesh and gaze upon her hidden flower, in full bloom from its previous attention. As Cicely began to awake, Amy slipped her tongue into the temptingly open anus. It closed about her tongue like a lover's mouth. She slowly withdrew and kissed the delicate flower before plunging in again. Aroused by the way the hole opened and closed with each breath Cicely took; Amy let it suck her tongue in then push it out. The model squirmed charmingly.
Cicely could not help but fidget from the tickling sensations of having her anus stimulated. She felt twinges of desire return to her raw and ravaged body. Compulsively she clenched her buttocks, startling her lover. Immediately she felt fear creep up inside her. Cicely attempted to form an apology but the words did not come to her as they should.
Amy, excited by this momentary show of defiance, spoke in a loving tone; explaining that obedience was foremost in their alliance, and that all infractions must be punished. She proceeded to remove a square of glass that had been balanced upon the wide base of a Corinthian column. Cicely obediently sat atop the column, seeming humbled with her legs drawn up.
Amy took her place on the bed, and phoned a male neighbor who was an occasional overnight guest. He stood, within minutes, at the door. Cicely sat quiet and unmoving upon the pedestal in the corner. She was a sculpture, sentenced to be the observer. This was punishment.
The man was naked beneath a bright tropical robe, and well endowed. Amy had begun to stimulate herself on the bed. The man forcefully grabbed her ankles and lifted them over his shoulders. Hoisting her buttocks he buried his face in her shaven genitals. Cicely heard grotesque sucking noises mingled with theatrical cries of delight. She watched as Amy encouraged his clitoral assault by grabbing handfuls of hair and pushing his head down.
Cicely was aware of jealously burning in her loins. Amy's small nipples jutted upwards into the air. Cicely longed to suckle those nipples like a nursing child. The man dropped Amy and wiped his mouth across his arm. Grinning, he flipped Amy's lithe body over his knee and began to spank her with his open hand. She wiggled and rubbed her sex against his thigh to excite him further. He laughed heartily as his hand fell over and over. Amy' s bottom was glowing red, yet he continued. Cicely became very aroused by this display, and her vaginal juices dripped onto the pedestal and drizzled down to the floor.
Finally the man threw Amy onto the oriental carpet ,and from behind, inserted his large organ into her vagina. He thrust hard and fast slapping her enflamed buttocks with each push. Cicely could see his testicles rhythmically thumping against Amy's clitoris. She wept silently from her perch as her lover received the offending member with pleasure.
The neighbor grunted in completion, and shoved Amy forward, unsettling her balance. He rose to leave when his eye was caught by an incredibly life-like sculpture in the corner. Approaching it, he rubbed a lock of copper hair between his fingers, then across his lips. Cicely sat unmoving as he stroked her shoulder and upper arm. She found herself both aroused and terrified by this examination. He did not attempt to alter her position in any way as if she had been carved from marble.
The man slipped his hand between Cicely's drawn up legs and slid his index finger into her moist sex, then withdrew and placed it in his mouth. "She is beyond all sweetness, Amy," he commented. The artist thanked him and escorted him to the door.
Amy walked to her easel and began to sketch. She drew Cicely atop her pedestal. She sketched her hair in great waves with flourished strokes. Careful attention was given to the tears that lay upon Cicely's cheeks. Last she penned a trail of liquid running onto the floor. At the bottom of the page she labeled the sketch, "Punishing Cicely".
Copyright © 2001 J. A. Scott. All rights reserved.
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