An artist who paints gets painted by painters who don’t know art.
As a freelance artist, I spend most of the time at home working on my drawings and painting. It’s too expensive to rent a studio, and my works are not exactly fetching a lot of money in the market.
However, I still make enough to get by in this climate.
At 25 and still shamelessly bunking at my parents’ place, sometimes I wonder how long it would take for me to save up enough to move out.
My room at my parents place in Punggol faces a barren piece of land because we’re located right at the edge of the development. It used to be a lush green forest when we first moved, now the trees have been removed and what laid in front of my room’s window is instead several large empty plots of land waiting for new houses to be build.
Located on the highest level, I used to have a view of lush greenery, now it’s bust a barren piece of land with the river lying beyond it. I could see as far as Pasir ris on a clear day.
From looking at people walking by the park below, to the occasional otters scurrying over the large piece of turfing by the river, that window in my room provided a key source of my inspiration for my artwork.
Sometimes I would spend hours looking out that window and I would get hit by inspiration on what to draw and paint next.
Another thing I like about my room was that it gave me a level of privacy that it’s hard to find in a small country like Singapore. With most of the houses built so close to each other, you can easily look into your neighbour’s place to see what they are doing.
However, in my room, with no other close buildings , I kept the window wide open all the time for the breeze and the view. I could walk around naked and change right by the window knowing that no one will be able to see me.
It’s a liberating feeling to be able to walk around naked in your room while you work although I still make sure my parents are not in when I do something like this.
They will never understand.
Having stayed single for the last couple of years, I depended on my trusty dildo to do the work that my former boyfriend used to do.
I gave my first to him and it was him that introduced me to the world of bondages and forced orgasm. A sick bastard he is but I enjoyed the sex. I loved the orgasm.
However, being single also meant that it’s hard to recreate the kind of optimum scenario I would love to cum in.
My ex boyfriend James used to tie me up on the bed while playing and teasing my sensitive bits. I would struggle and beg for my orgasm and the idea of being deprived and brought to climax later is so arousing for me that I got addicted to it. I felt it hit all the buttons and check all the boxes for my kind of ideal sex activity.
The first orgasm relieves the tension and build up of stress in my body. It opens the gate for something deeper.
It’s the 2nd and 3rd orgasm that I craved. When my clitoris is sensitive as fuck and my body soft as jelly, I would literally scream my lungs out when James kept me tied up and fingered me forcefully.
My body would struggle and I would be screaming no like a rape victim but I knew my brain craved for it. I craved for that helpless firing of electricity into my raw nerves post orgasm.
The 2nd orgasm is always the more explosive of them all. I would literally gush waves of liquid and it was during the 2nd wave of erotic pleasures that I would also turn into an absolute slut.
I would say and do anything that James wanted.
From allowing him to video me sucking him, to pulling a confession that I’m a horny slut that craves for gangbang , I did it all.
The 3rd orgasm is the one that brings the tears. It always did. Being brought to the edge of my tolerance, I would wash my face with tears when I come the 3rd time and I would feel like a rag doll. Used, dirty and cast aside as every last ounce of strength left my body.
Then, James would enter my wet and well lubricated love hole, extracting every ounce of pleasure he desires from my weak body.
I missed those moments but I am no longer with James. He has gone overseas for work and while technically we never officially broke up. We’re all adults, we know it’s near impossible to maintain this relationship.
Eventually we just drifted apart.
Not willing to live my already boring life as an artist deprived of orgasm, I took things into my own hands of course.
I’m in the creative industry, I just need to do what I do.
Through a bit of online shopping and some tinkering of simple electronic devices, I made my own setup to deliver the orgasm I crave.
First, it’s a set of handcuffs that comes with a timer. You can preset the timing, lock yourself up and when the count hits zero, you can then free yourself. Anytime before that, you will be as helpless as a lamb in the middle of a pride of lions.
The first time I used it, I loved it to the max.
It brought back that familiar sense of helplessness I craved.
Then comes the dildo. I bought one of those automatic sex toys that thrust the dildo in and out on it’s own. You can preset the function, control the rhythm and even put in a timer.
To bring things up a notch, I would duct tape another device on my thigh with the vibrating bullet taped over my clitoris. This one I can control with my phone with preset vibrating frequency and rhythm too.
I know it’s sick but I need my orgasm.
I need it to stay sane, creative and productive. Besides, I’m not breaking any laws. Giving yourself an orgasm is part of body wellness don’t you know ?
I would strip myself and set it all up. Put on the ankle cuffs that spreads my leg to both sides of the bed and when I laid down on my bed, I will position the penis shaped dildo at the entrance of my already moist vagina.
That way, when it starts moving, it will penetrate me easily. I added a horizontal strap across my bed to anchor my tummy down and to bring about an added sense of helplessness.
After making sure everything is set and positioned, I would hit the start button on all before handcuffing wrist to the headboard.
After a 30 second delay, I would be transformed to a magical land of rainbows and unicorns. For the next 30-40 minutes, I would be moaning, screaming and whining like a cock craving slut on my bed.
Needless to say, it is important to make sure I’m alone when doing this. Imagine the horror if my parents were to walk in on this.
I also have a pair of wire cutters put on the headboard in case of emergency. I can always reached for it and cut myself loose.
And I would do all this with my window wide open and enjoy the cool breeze on my naked body as I soaked up the pleasures the sex toys are giving me.
One day, after sending my parents off on a day trip to Malaysia, I got a little frisky after eating my breakfast.
Knowing that the house is empty, I decided to set up my toys and indulge in a bit of body maintenance if you get what I mean.
I took a shower, washed myself clean and smelling fresh of my favourite soap.
The sun is bright and sunny that day.
I set it all up, chose one of the most challenging rhythm for the toys and got ready to let loose.
I always double checked to make sure the wire cutters are near before I begin. You never know when there might be an emergency.
Satisfied that all is in order, I eased myself down on my bed and I could already feel myself getting wet.
I hit the start button and handcuffed myself to the headboard and waited for the countdown.
20 seconds to start I felt the hair on my skin stand up as my exposed nipples erected and stood perky and tall.
10 seconds before it begins, I heard a weird electrical whine.
I heard voices out the window.
Impossible. I’m staying on the 17th floor.
5 seconds before it starts, the whining of the engine got louder and I saw the bottom of a gondola cage.
I forgot the estate is being painted right now.
There’s going to be workers outside my window painting the walls.
2 seconds before it starts, I tried reaching for the wire cutters but in my moment of panic, I pushed it over the ledge and it fell over my bed.
I felt my heart sank as I trembled in fear while looking at the window.
The gondola cage lowered itself to the same level as my window and I saw 2 foreign workers talking as they painted the wall outside my window.
I felt the vibration start and the machine started to move, pushing the dildo I bought in the same size as James into my moist lips.
I moaned helplessly the same time the 2 indian workers stopped painting as they looked at me.
My wrist pulled and yanked at the handcuffs while my legs struggled to break free.
I saw them and they saw me in the state I was in.
I could see it in their eyes.
Painting, is definitely the last thing on their mind when I saw the 2 of them exchange a look before reaching for my open window.
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