Multiform artistry

One of my biggest fantasies for the last ten years or so is to be painted. It started when my ex bought home a calender of nude models wearing nothing but body paint. I eagerly studied those images, looking at the tiny creases and strokes, and longed to be under the brush. I imagine standing or lying perfectly still, as unable to move as if I were bound, every tiny detail of my body potentially under scrutiny if the artist should choose to paint there... and then the soft strokes of the brush so slowly exploring my skin, the cool damp feel of the paint changing to a stiff coating and tingling as it dries.... feeling exposed, examined, vulnerable, and then lovingly caressed, contained, embraced, accepted... and then afterwards, when the whole experience is over, the exquisite high of feeling that I have become not a mere person, but a work of art - objectified, not into degradation, but into a thing of beauty...

Sensuality does not rate highly in my fantasies, but to be painted - that is the biggest of only a handful of exceptions. When I found out that Master, too, has a love of body painting and a desire to try it, I was over the moon! And then I came crashing down when he told me he had found a woman with an artistic streak to "practice on"... while I entertain her husband. This was a while ago now, and so far none of these plans have come to fruition, but it still torments me. I still mentally squirm at the thought of him doing something so precious to me with someone else, while I am given the humiliating task of keeping the man "occupied" and pretending to be happy. Imagining it brings up an emotional tension within me: between hurt, jealousy, and anger on the one hand, and on the other, submission, humiliation, and dismayed arousal.

So, why bring it up now? .....ever had a lucid dream? Its a nice experience, to be just asleep enough to dream, but just awake enough to know it's not real, and sometimes, to have some control over what happens. I think it was him referring to me recently (in a very different context) as a "canvas" that made me dream of the body painting scenario this morning. I knew it was just a dream and so I could relax and explore the experience of it, without that sickening "squirming" feeling... well, not so much, anyway.

It took place at his house, and I was waiting there naked until the couple arrived. I offered them both a drink while trying not to look at or hate her. I somehow managed to look at her husband without taking any notice of him at all - he was irrelevant, just another task for me to do in Master's house, like assembling furniture. Master and the woman went to his bedroom. And closed the door. I talked, I flirted, I entertained, I smiled, I was groped, fucked in every hole, used, and it was joyless. I had permission to cum only if I was thinking of what Master was doing with the woman in the other room, and I did that obediently, with a cry that was less pleasure than agony. My eyes focussed on the man I was with, but only to please Master. I cared nothing about this man at all, internally I was standing at that closed door, waiting for Sir.

The dream ended with me waiting, wondering how long it would be. And I woke predictably and despondently wet. I waited a while, thinking back over it, then touched myself imagining I was there. I took my new vibrator, which coincidentally, I realised later, is also called a "Lucid Dream", and brought myself to orgasm almost unwillingly, thinking horrible, agonising, jealous thoughts. And just as I cried out, my phone buzzed with a message from Master. Does this count as synchronicity?