Page 28 of Menotte avec toi

“Your talent blows me away. Why is none of this hung in your place?”

Another shrug. “Never felt right. Never felt good enough. I mean, look around. Outside of my bedroom, I never really made this place my own. Always thought of it as my studio and never my home. My muse was settled, but I never was.”

My sweet, sweet Sonnet strived for stability and a place to call home. One where she was nurtured and loved. Maybe I had no boundaries to worry about. Maybe I too was the one she’d been waiting for all along.

“Sonnet, we’d be honored to have you display any of these in the lobby. There isn’t a single one not worthy. My love, I will spend every day we have together proving to you how much you're worth.” Never again would my Kitten go a day without being told I loved her and how truly wonderful she was.

“If you think so,” she nervous chewed her bottom lip again, Poor thing was getting abused beyond repair.

I plucked it free and kissed her. “I do. Let’s pick a dozen out to start with.”

Chapter Twelve

Sonnet

It was a little scary and a lot thrilling to watch and give direction as my artwork was hung up in the club, especially when my Mistress had instructed me to choose the spots where they would hang. For the first few minutes, I’d simply stood, taking in the size and shape of the space while considering how to tie them in with the erotic displays they’d experience beneath their tables.

Hanging art on the walls behind the booths across from the interactive displays would mean the patrons would have to turn their heads to look at them, so that wouldn’t work. I turned my attention away from that area and focused on the rest of the space. The far wall, with its horseshoe shape, would be the best place to hang pieces so patrons could enjoy them as a part of the already erotic dining experience.

Placing the ones for sale in the lobby proved to be a little harder, as pricing my pieces has always been somethingthat made me squirmy and uncomfortable. With my Mistress providing input in the form of a raised eyebrow when she thought I was undervaluing something to a warm smile and a nod when she felt I’d gotten it right, we soon had that task completed as well.

Returning to her side after the final painting had been hung, I slid my arm around her and sighed as I cuddled into her embrace.

“Do you have to work tonight?” I asked.

“No Kitten, all my duties for the day have already been attended to and the last of my subs has been assigned to someone else to see to. My night is free if you have something in mind.”

“I do, actually,” I said, taking her hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“A walk, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve gone on one of those.”

“That makes it even more perfect,” I murmured as I went up on tiptoes to kiss her.

What was meant to be sweet and soft soon turned feverish and hungry as she took control of it and I mewed and pressed against her front, fingers tangling in her hair as I sought to show her just how hot and needy she made me every time we touched one another. My cheeks felt flushed when we finally broke apart, but I was smiling too and more than excited to show her one of my favorite spots.

It wasn’t a long walk from here, and the city was alive tonight. With her hand in mine, we wandered past a wonderful mix of dark buildings and bright ones teeming with laughing people enjoying an evening together.

“This was the first gallery to ever display my pieces,” I said as we reached the big brick building on the corner of the street we needed to turn down. “The owner, Arthur, was so amazingly kind to me. He taught me how to select the best pieces for a show because my thoughts were scattered, and my selectionswere all over the place in terms of tones and style. You want to give them a taste, never the full buffet. That’s what he told me as we sat down with the pictures I’d taken on my phone of each of the paintings. One by one we went through them all, with a notebook between us where we wrote notes on how to group them. I had no idea then that he was going through all that effort because he already had a follow-up show in mind.”

“Really, how many times have you been featured there?”

“Four so far,” I explained. “Each time more than half of the paintings sold. I haven’t done a showing in a while, though. The commission-based pieces I’ve been contracted for have kept me busy for the last year.”

“Do you enjoy doing those more than having the opportunity to paint whatever you’d like?”

“No, but painting whatever I’d like doesn’t always pay the bills,” I explained. “Not once art supplies are factored in. I’m picky about my paints and the quality of my brushes, and I’m super picky about color tones and the consistency of the paint. One brand is not the same as another, no matter what the websites and ads might claim.”

“Now that I understand completely,” she said. “Just because something serves the same function doesn’t mean the results will be the same. I’ve been burned a few times myself, grabbing a different brand when what I’d come for was sold out. I finally learned to stick to what I liked and what gave the result I wanted, even if it meant visiting other stores or biting the bullet and ordering in.”

“Exactly. I’d rather order in and get exactly what I’m after, especially if that meant that I don’t have to wade through crowded stores or deal with people clogging the aisles with their carts and conversations they could have had over the phone or through text messages.”

“Now that level of rudeness just pisses me off,” she admitted. “I should not have to say excuse me several times and even resort to nudging someone’s cart to get them to scoot it out of the way so I can pass. I don’t know what it is about people, but some of them get out in public and act like they’ve never been taught any manners at all. I’ve even seen people open a box to look at the contents, then put the open box back on the shelf after putting a different box in their carts. It’s ridiculous and utterly unnecessary.”

“That’s the other reason I order most things in from online shops,” I explained. “There’s a whole ick factor in stores, seeing people sneeze, wipe their noses, and then handle produce like they didn’t just contaminate everything they came in contact with. No one wants to buy snot-covered plums. That’s just eww.”

“You do realize that the plums being delivered just might be covered in snot and germs too,” she pointed out.

“Oh, I know, and I always wash them regardless. But there is something about seeing gross things take place that wrecks my appetite completely.”

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