Toxic | Leila & Christian

Chapter 5: Her Muse

May 22, 2009

Leila's Pov;

In the evening I have dinner with Christian like normal. He's as bossy as ever, demanding I sit up straight and finish my food instead of just staring down at my half eaten plate as I'd like. I think he forgets how little it takes to fill me up, especially when I'm not in the mood to eat, but I don't argue. I obey his orders perfectly, knowing I'll be rewarded for it later. He seems pleased with me. I can't tell if it's due to my newly learned obedience or if it's because I've changed our contract to state that I'm open to discussing a new list of hard and soft limits, one that's open to more of the things he likes. Either way when I lay in my bed that night, all alone with my thoughts I find myself feeling happier than usual. Content. I feel safe with Christian, cared for, free from making the decisions. I want my time as his submissive to never have to come to an end. I want to be his forever.

The following morning with him is different from the others. After I prepare his breakfast, he leaves me alone in my room while he stays in his study to check up on work emails. He seems quiet today, more than normal, but also less tense. It's different. With my free time I decide to sort through the new art supplies he bought me. I arrange them nicely on my bed and inspect the array of paint brushes, paints, pencils, paper, anything I could dream of he's bought. It's all the high end kind too, not the cheap stuff I'm used to working with. The gesture was insanely generous of him, almost too much so. I don't deserve all the money he's spent on me since I got here, but I hope that with time I'll be able to make it up to him. He's been influencing me to paint more, to grow as an artist. He believes in me. He thinks I have talent, more so than I think. My door creaks open and in he comes, dressed still in his sweatpants and a t-shirt. I can't tell if he's been for his morning run or not yet, but I get the feeling he has. He's not one to break routine when it comes to his strict exercise and work routines. "Like the new supplies?" He asks, looking me over. "Yes, Sir." I keep my eyes down from him as he reaches out and strokes my hair. "Good. I thought you would." He takes a few steps away from me to admire the painting I've already completed on my easel. He takes the painting off and puts it to the side, leaving a new canvas in it's place. "Paint me something." He says, gesturing to the open canvas. I get up from my seat on the bed and approach the canvas, my mind racing with ideas for what I should paint. Maybe it shouldn't be anything at all. Maybe just a mix of colors. "But first, this should be off." He tugs the soft cashmere dress I was wearing over my head. "I can't have you getting paint on it. " He tosses it onto the bed and I stand before him in just my panties. My hair's just long enough so that it covers my breasts, but the rest of me is exposed. I turn to the canvas and take my brush, already dipped in an icy blue paint, and stroke it along the canvas. I begin to paint a landscape setting, all the while Christian stands behind me watching. Every now and then he reaches out and touches me, playing with my hair or just kissing the nape of my neck. "You're distracting me." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and they come out much ruder than I thought. I can be that way when I'm focused on my art. "Am I, now? Is this any better?" He asks, taking the paintbrush from my hand and splattering the paint across my front. He's not angry as I thought, but rather the complete opposite. He's Playful. "I think it's my turn to paint." He takes my brush and paint set from me and begins to paint on me instead of the canvas. He shoves my hair out of the way, then proceeds to cover my body in various colored paint splatters. He looks happy. Something I've rarely seen before. I giggle when the paint drizzles down my thigh, leaving a tickling sensation as it does. We play around in the paint together. He paints me while I paint the canvas. We make a lovely team. He's in a particularly good mood today, and I want to make it last. As we mess around in the paints, making more of a mess than actual art, I even manage to get him to laugh. The sound is music to my ears. I'd do anything to hear it again. Anything he wants. "You're a mess." He says, his voice light with humor. He seems satisfied with the mess of paint he's made on my body. "Lets go observe my work a little closer, shall we?" He takes my hand and guides me to the full length mirror in my bathroom. I observe our reflection cautiously, not meeting his eyes even in the mirror. "I think I did good. You look beautiful." He muses, dragging his fingers through the paint on my side. "Now that the fun is over, let's clean you up." He turns the faucet in the bath on and the tub fills with warm water. "Get in." He commands, when the tub is completely full. I shimmy out of my paint covered panties and let them drop to my feet. Then I step into the tub and submerge myself in the water. He's quick to join me and I marvel at his naked body, eager to get cleaned off so that he can take me into the playroom. His perfect hands wash my body, sending a rainbow of paints into the tub with us. It's a happy time. One of the happiest memories I have of him. I sit back and enjoy it, knowing it may be my only chance to enjoy his presence like this before he goes back to being brooding and angry.