Flash Serial: The New Canvas ~ Part 4

The writing below is part of a serial piece of erotic fiction.  You may wish to start at the beginning, here.

She prowled her home that week.  Invites to lunch passed on,  she ducked out of an invite to accompany a colleague to a charity ball and screened her parents’ calls.  The night spent under Victor’s hands haunted Alexandra.  Instead she tackled the work she normally avoided until the last minute, prepping lesson plans for the fall sememster and review her notes from the previous.

Alex couldn’t help but wonder if the tattoo would be complete when classes resumed.  The pain of the process had surprised her.  Alex had accompanied enough of her friends to tattoo parlors during college to have an idea of what to expect.  At least, that was what she’d thought.  The manual method Victor employed had left her skin feeling lacerated.  She thought on the upcoming session, speculating on her ability to manage the pain and how the artist would act this time.

Each day that passed gnawed at her.

She couldn’t stop looking at the dragon.  Even as a piece of line art it was exquisite.  Clawed feet clung to her leg, sinuous tail and body twined around it.  But the head. . . that was stunning.  The beast rested it’s head on her belly, below her navel, and the tongue dipped towards the junction of her thighs.  Everytime she looked at it she remembered Victor’s dark, tousled head bent over her, so close she could feel his breath fan against her skin.

Her attraction to him startled Alexandra and left her uncertain, an unfamiliar state to the confident woman.  His lack of reaction to her was even more discomfiting.  She tried to recall when a man had not returned her interest and drew a blank.

Thursday passed in excruciatingly slow fashion.  Every time she looked at the clock it was minutes since the last instead of the hours for which she hoped.  The night saw her tossing and turning, incapable of escaping the thought of his hands on her body.  Even attempts to chase him from her mind by letting her own touch push her body to orgasm failed.

That only cemented him deeper as she came with the image of him spreading her thighs and fucking her.


It all combined to turn her into a walking, ticking, timebomb.  Still, she drove the winding road to his house as the sun surrendered the day, bracing for his cool, distant composure and dark, delicious good looks.  Alex let herself in and made her way down the hall to his studio.  Music played, deep throbbing and base filled.

Victor worked at his bench near the table.  A heat surged between her thighs at the sight.  Clad only in cut off jeans stained with countless hues of ink his skin showed off just as many.  He moved in tempo with the music, hips shifting minutely, head nodding the beat.  She couldn’t wrap her mind around the difference.  The song drew to an an end and she cleared her throat.

He waved a hand without even looking.  “Evening, Alexandra.  On the table, if you please.”  The music began again.

Her jaw clenched and she all but stalked across the studio.  The screens were pulled and to her uneducated eye it looked like he was ready to begin.  Relaxing was not going to be an easy task.

Stripping was harder and easier this time.  Alex had chosen a loose flowing skirt and a halter top that tied below her breasts.  If he’d bothered to turn and look at her she would have risk saying even he might have found her fetching.

Victor turned as she slid her fingers inside her waistband.  “Wait.  On second thought, I’m going to be starting at your ankle.  We can simply gather the fabric over your knees.”

Did she see a touch of relief in his oh so cold eyes?

She laid on the table and gathered her skirt up.  It took all she had not to jump when his hands cupped her calf, turning it this way and that.  “Good, good,” he murmured, his low voice barely audible over the music.  He nodded to himself, pulled a rolling cart with a number of small dishes of ink, and met her eyes.

“This will hurt,” he said, reaching, at last, to turn the music off.  she licked her lips, suddenly, abruptly, nervous.  “Last week is nothing compared to this.  Tell me if it gets to be too much.”  His gaze was intent, his hand where it rested on her shin warm.

Alex nodded, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.


Continue reading in part 5 of The New Canvas



  1. Once again another intriguing chapter. I look forward to reading it again next week.

  2. So interesting that she finds herself the masochist. A pleasant surprise.

  3. As if I didn’t want a tattoo badly enough, now I’m wandering Alexandra’s path and thinking about the “real deal”, as it were. 🙂 What an ispiring story this is turning out to be. Oh, did I mention hot? I thought I mentioned hot. lol

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