Velvet Daddy Sins: Please Me To The Last Drop

The Portrait Commission

Elena’s POV

I arranged my brushes and paints in the studio that afternoon when Damien entered with a serious look on his face. Sunlight streamed through the windows and highlighted the large empty canvas on the main easel. My heart skipped as I saw him carry a special wooden modeling platform into the center of the room.

“Elena, today I have a special commission for you,” he said in his deep voice. “You will paint my official portrait but I want it done naked. This will test your skills and your obedience at the same time.”

I stared at him with wide eyes and felt heat rise to my cheeks. “Naked, Daddy? You mean I paint you without clothes while you pose for me?” I asked softly, my hands gripping a brush tighter.

He nodded and started unbuttoning his shirt slowly. “Exactly. You observe every detail of my body with your artist eyes. Show me how well you see me.” Damien removed the rest of his clothes until he stood completely bare. His strong form looked powerful in the natural light. “Get your palette ready and tell me how you want me to pose.”

I swallowed hard and prepared my colors. “Please sit on the platform first, Daddy, with one leg bent and your arm resting on your knee. Turn your torso slightly toward the light,” I instructed, trying to sound professional despite the situation. My artistic eye caught the way shadows fell across his broad shoulders and defined chest muscles.

Damien followed my directions and settled into the pose. I began sketching the basic lines on the canvas. “Your muscles create beautiful tension lines here,” I narrated while my pencil moved. “The shadow under your collarbone adds depth and strength to the form.”

He watched me work with dark eyes. “Focus on the details, little artist. Capture everything you see.” After some minutes I noticed his c**k starting to harden under my gaze. It rose thick and ready against his thigh. Damien shifted slightly but stayed in position.

“You are getting hard while I paint you, Daddy,” I whispered, my own body responding with warmth between my legs. “Does posing like this excite you?”

A slow smile crossed his face. “It does when your eyes devour me like that. Come here now. I need to feel you while you study me.” He reached out and pulled me onto the modeling platform with him. My clothes came off quickly under his hands until I was naked too.

Damien positioned me on my hands and knees facing the canvas. He knelt behind me and rubbed his hard c**k against my wet entrance. “Keep painting with your eyes while I take you,” he ordered. “Describe what you see as I f**k you.”

He pushed inside me slowly at first. I gasped at the fullness and tried to keep my focus. “Your hips show powerful lines of muscle, Daddy,” I moaned while he thrust deeper. “The tension in your thighs looks like strong shadows on the canvas.”

His hands gripped my waist firmly as he moved in a steady rhythm. “Good girl, tell me more,” he groaned. The platform creaked under us but held steady. “I want your artist mind full of me.”

I rocked back to meet his thrusts and kept describing. “Your chest rises with each breath, creating beautiful highlights where the light hits the sweat on your skin. It makes the portrait feel alive and dangerous.” Pleasure built inside me fast from his deep strokes. The mix of painting and being f****d felt incredibly intimate.

Damien leaned over my back and whispered hotly. “Every brushstroke tomorrow should carry this feeling. Remember who owns the hands that create.” He sped up and drove harder into me. Our bodies made slick sounds that echoed in the studio.

“Yes, Daddy, I will remember,” I cried out softly. “Your body is perfect to paint, so strong and commanding.” My arms trembled as I tried to stay steady. He reached around and rubbed my c**t while continuing his possessive rhythm.

“c*m for me while you see me clearly,” he commanded. His voice sounded rough with need. I obeyed and shattered around him with a loud moan. Waves of pleasure washed through my body. Damien thrust a few more times then released deep inside me with a low groan.

We stayed connected on the platform for a while as our breathing calmed. He stroked my back gently afterward. “You did well today, Elena. This portrait will be special because of how you see me.”

I felt a rush of closeness in that moment. Later when he left to take a call I pulled out my private sketchbook from under some supplies. With quick careful lines I drew a small version of his face from memory. This one showed a softer side, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that I noticed during our quiet moments. I hid the book away carefully under my supplies where no one would find it.

The drawing felt like my secret way of holding onto something real about him. But as I closed the book my phone vibrated with a new message. I opened it and froze.

The text read, “We see your private sketches, little artist. The Board knows about the hidden book. Curious pets lose their privileges fast. Prepare for tonight’s test or face real consequences.”

My hands shook as I deleted the message. How did they know about my secret drawings already? Fear twisted in my stomach while I looked toward the door.