Becoming Art

"Oh, I see you're having some coffee. Let me freshen it up."

A waiter immediately filled his cup while Ms. Sky led Stephanie closer and had her bend over. Not sure what was happening, her husband watched with a stunned look as Ms. Sky started milking Stephanie into his cup. It was then he realized why his milk had tasted so different.

His eyes filled up with tears of humiliation and he turned to dash out of the room. All his fears were realized. His wife was transformed. Into what, he had no idea. But he knew he had to get her back. He promised himself he would confront them in Sky's office the next day.

Stephanie felt terrible for her husband. Proud as she was of being her Mistresses work of art, she still loved her husband and never wanted him to be so humiliated. Later that night, she sobbed quietly in her bed as some random woman ate her Mistress to a noisy orgasm.

The next day, her husband stormed into the office where Stephanie was mounted on her display rack. Ms. Sky had just stepped out of the office to speak with her CFO, so it was just Stephanie and her husband.

"Stephanie, you must come home! Somehow we'll survive on just my salary but you must leave this place."

Noticing that his wife had not moved other than to wave her arms at him. He asked "Why don't you at least come to me?"

"I can't. I am mounted and must stay here until my owner lets me move."

"Mounted. What do you mean mounted?"

"I'm a work of art and my owner enjoys mounting me on my display pedestal."

It was at that point that her husband realized she had something sticking in her ass.

"That does it. I am taking you home. You need help!"

It was to this scene that Ms. Sky entered the room. "Dear sir. That is my art you are speaking of stealing!"

"Art! That is a human being, my wife that you are referring too."

"Oh, no. I am much more now. I am truly a work of art. She created the art and so owns it."

Knowing he was defeated, her husband stormed out. He was determined to get the police and come back for his wife. Unfortunately, he had no luck with the police. Once they heard that she had refused to leave with him, they said there were no grounds for them to enter the office. He railed at them so much they finally threatened him to lock him up.

Stephanie was quiet after her husband had left. More than the confrontation with her husband, the fact that she said she was owned by her Mistress troubled her. The thought would not leave her until she finally realized it was true. She was property, owned by her Mistress. She still had hopes that one day her owner would set her free but for now, she knew she was owned.

The next day her Mistress mounted her in her office and then paced around her. "We have gone as far as we can below your neck. Now it is time for the rest of the canvas to be prepared."

"The rest, Mistress? Will you be putting art on my face?"

"Oh, yes. Your face and more. I'm having your remaining hair removed so we can decorate that part of the canvas."

"But Mistress, there will be no chance for me to go out in public after you do that. I'll never have a chance at a normal life."

"Oh pet. Whatever gave you the idea you could go back to being normal? You are a work of art. You are beyond normal."

So it was that Stephanie was once again dropped off at Lorraine's to have her hair removed. The experience of having her hair removed was traumatic and she cried during the whole procedure and the tears ran down her cheeks in rivulets as Lorraine expertly finished wet-shaving her scalp, leaving a polished dome where once there had been locks. She'd always been proud of her blonde mane, losing it was devastating to her psyche.

Then a couple of days later she was dropped off again for the final touches to Sky's masterpiece. As she lay back in the reclining chair, her bald head cupped by the rest at the top, she felt the all too familiar hum of the needle start to etch ink into her skull. The enormity of what was happening sunk in-this was the final part of her conversion. When she left this chair today her canvas would be completely filled. She would be a finished work of art! Rather than shocking her, the revelation excited her beyond belief. This was her destiny. It was what she was made for, and as the needle danced angrily across her pate, she started to feel waves of pleasure wash through her brightly colored body. By the time Lorraine started work on her face, she was trembling with orgasmic excitement to the extent that the tattooist had to deploy a head strap to keep her canvas still enough to adorn.

When she was returned to her Mistress, she had pictures of lesbianism in the modern world over the canvas that had been her head. One striking part of it showed the Vanity Fair cover with Cindy Crawford in a swimsuit shaving k.d.lang's face. K.d. lang is sitting in a barber's chair wearing a man's suit. The image had become an internationally recognized symbol of the phenomenon of lesbian chic when it came out. Now it was featured on Ms. Sky's work of art.

That night, her Mistress had her bent over a table with webcams around the room. Her Mistress was wearing her largest strap-on. Stephanie felt lube being applied to her ass hole and knew her Mistress was planning on fucking her ass. She'd realized long ago that this was inevitable and had resigned herself to it.

What she didn't know was that the webcams were broadcasting to her old house and her husband was watching. He had a good view of his wife's total transformation, her skin now a kaleidoscope of color and glittering jewelry, as she positioned herself to receive her Mistress, her tattooed ass wiggling as she prepared to be sodomized, and her pendulous, totally decorated udders swung obscenely, the elongated nipples nearly touching the floor as she wiggled. With her asshole now fully relaxed from her hours mounted on display, her anus opened up and swallowed the massive dildo whole, and she was shocked and surprised at the pleasurable sensations that the invasion brought. As her excitement grew, her moans got louder, until at the moment of orgasm she raised her bald, tattooed head to roar with pleasure, and without realizing it, stared directly into one of the webcams, affording her masturbating husband a detailed view of her tattooed face as it went into rapture, the bell on her milking collar ringing loudly as she came. It was the ultimate humiliation for him, as his lovely wife's obscene display brought him to an orgasm which he hated for its intensity. It took him weeks, but he had divorce papers drawn up and served to her. There was no contest. Not that he expected any.