A Work of Art

My name is John, I’m an artist and recently, I’ve been working on my biggest project yet. I think I was originally inspired and turned to the creation of beautiful art by my father. He was an artist too and he practically raised me single handed after my mother left while I was still very young. But my father and I had drifted apart over the last couple of years though. I think he was a little hurt when I had tried to search for my mother. I didn’t mean to make him feel like he hadn’t done enough for me, but I was sure that’s how he’d felt. So we saw less and less of each other, eventually it dwindled to a phone call once or twice a month and an occasional visit. I’d hoped, after I’d given up looking, that we’d go back to how things used to be, but I guess the damage had been done. And now I had practically devoted myself to my project and hadn’t called in months. I sat there in my studio, a glass of wine in hand, admiring the sculpture of my three beautiful, naked women. One woman lain at the feet of the other two as they stood over her, arms raised, and looking to the sky as if asking the gods why?!. All of three them, a glistening dark pewter colour, a simply beautiful vision and yet I didn’t know if I was finished. I certainly remembered how I’d begun…

“Be right there” I called out as I approached the door, hoping this was the visitor I’d been expecting as I pulled the door open. The red head stood in the open doorway for a moment, with her hand on her hip, chewing gum and wearing a cheap looking red and black pvc outfit. She looked like a cheap hooker, maybe because that’s exactly what she was.

“I’m Candy” She announced as she brushed passed me and entered.

“Of course you are” I smirked to myself, I turned to see her arse wiggling as she strode down my hallway. I had called a cheap and less than reputable escort agency and asked for a girl for the evening and they had sent me Candy. It was easier than I’d imagined it would be. I closed the front door and turned to head down the hall too.

“Last door on the left” I called out as I watched her ambling down the hallway ahead of me and she open the door I had indicated. She gasped as she stepped into my studio and I stopped in the door way, leaning against the frame.

“Is you some sort of arty person? Did you done all this stuff? ” She asked as she strolled around the studio, looking at my sculptures and paintings. She seemed genuinely impressed, but I assumed, having only met Candy a few moments ago, I didn’t think it’d take that much to impress her.

“I guess you could say I‘m an artist and yes this is all my work” I smirked as I stepped further into the room, watching her as she gazed around. I grabbed up one of the glasses I’d put in my studio earlier, filled it with a full bodied red and offered it to her, she smiled as she took it from me.

“So, what you wants, hand job, head, I don’t take it in the arse though” She looked over the glass at me as she took a gulp.

“Oh no, none of that I just want to paint you” I chuckled to myself. In a manner of speaking that was true.

“Oh, is you one of them queer types, don‘t like tits and pussy, huh?” Candy sighed with obvious disappointment and distain. I’m not actually gay, but I respect each individuals choice and taste and I don’t appreciate those with such a narrow and dogmatic view of the world. Suddenly I was feeling much less apprehensive about what I hand in mind for my project.

“No Candy. I’m not gay, you’re only here for my art” I smiled as I noticed her eyes flutter slightly and began to look heavy. She staggered, somewhat unsteady on her feet and still she took another deep drink of wine.

“So no fuck” She slurred and just like that, the glass hit the floor. I had to lunge forward to catch her as she passed out. Perhaps I should’ve mentioned that I didn’t study art at college, apart from my father, I am completely self taught. I did however major in advanced chemistry.

“No Candy, no fucking today” I grinned to myself as I dragged her over to the clear workspace in the centre of my studio and gently laid her down. I checked her pulse, slow but steady. I had concocted a strong sedative, added it to the wine this afternoon and anticipated that she’d be unconscious for at least nine or ten hours. Plenty of time, but I didn’t want to push my luck hanging about and I quickly began to disrobe her. I chuckled to myself as I unzipped her pvc dress, no knickers, no surprise really. She was naked in no time at all and I began to examine her body intensely. Cheap and common as she seemed, she was beautiful, smooth blemish free skin. She was immaculate actually, perfect for my project and toughly satisfied with my examination I quickly went about shaving her. I needed her to be completely hairless and I painstakingly shaved her completely.

I checked my watch, an hour and half I’d spent checking her and getting her ready, but as I looked down at my sleeping subject, I knew, not only she was ready, so was I. I carefully positioned her, laying her on her side on the floor, one leg drawn up. Being something of a perfectionist, I positioned and repositioned her several times until I was finally happy. It was time to fetch the paint. I donned my thick rubber gloves and carefully removed the lid from the canister. I knew that once I started, there really was no going back.

‘As if I could go back now anyway after what I’ve already done’ I thought to myself and chuckled as I stirred my paint mixture. A thin metallic paint substance that I’d manufactured myself. The first few layers of paint would mostly seep through the skin and attack the nerve endings, causing paralysis. The outer most layers of the substance would ultimately harden to leave an external feel and appearance identical to that of a metal.

Now with my brush loaded with the paint, I looked at her laying there, helpless. I was about to commit Candy into immortality as a piece of art. I had to steel myself. No art without sacrifice. I made the first brush stroke down the full length of her leg. Immediately the curve of her luscious thigh glistened with the slick metallic paint. I was inspired and worked feverishly, coating her swiftly. Vigilantly I ensured I had covered every inch of her body and soon I stood back. She literally shone, the shimmering paint covering her entirely. I would have to wait a little before I’d be able to apply the next layer and so I simply sat beside her, gazing at her new shinning beauty. I watched her breathing gently, but I no longer thought of her as a person. She was my piece art now.

I waited for as long as I could resist, but I was eager to carry on. I didn’t want to stop as I started on the next layers of my paint. Every layer appeared more enchanting than the last as I carried on. I went on, layer after layer seeming to enhance every curve and the shape of her body. I was lost in the beauty of my creation. I couldn’t see her breathing anymore, the gentle rise and fall of her chest had stopped, the outer layers had begun to harden. I lost count of how many layers I’d applied, but I was exhausted. I fell asleep in my studio. The phone ringing brought me awake with a start. I Stumbled to my feet and fumbled to answer the call.

“Yes” I answered groggily.

“John?” The voice enquired and I dozily confirmed.

“This is Daisy from the Good Girls Agency, it seems Candy didn‘t check in last night” Daisy continued and I was dumbstruck. How fucking stupid could I have been. I mean seriously, how stupid, of course these girls check in after a job and Candy was laid on my studio floor. She wasn’t going to be checking in, ever.

“Did she say where she was going when she left you last night” Daisy asked and I was stunned, I had to think for a moment.

“Err, no, she didn‘t” I replied gingerly.

“Ok, one of our other girls saw her in the early hours of the morning, but she didn’t actually check, I just thought I’d check in case she mentioned anything to you, but thank you for your time” Daisy said courteously and hung up.

I was confused to say the least. I’d just woken up in my studio, not more than a few feet away from Candy, where she’d been since she got here the evening before and yet she’d been seen in the early hours. I needed a cup of coffee. I made a hot strong cup and stood in the doorway to my studio. I gazed at my work of art as I puzzled what Daisy had said on the phone. Eventually I could only assume that someone who’d looked like Candy had been seen. Ultimately that was the last I’d hear about it anyway and the first part of my project was complete and she was radiant and beautiful in a way I could never have imagined. I began to think about the next part of the project and thinking that I wouldn’t make the mistake of using an escort agency again.

The next girl for my project was difficult. Only because I saw her from afar and simply knew that I needed her for my art. She was so naturally pretty, slim and firm and it had to be her. I practically stalked her for two weeks before I resorted to a clumsy kidnapping. But one late night, a taser and a whole load of luck she was back in my studio. I set myself the challenge of having her stood up and with some clever rigging I managed it, suspending her from her wrists and applying my paint heavily to her legs and lower body first. With some clinical timing I was able to adjust her arms into position and reposition them perfectly as they hardened. By the next morning I had the second part of my project in place. I was awestruck by my own work. These two beautiful women now looked as if I had crafted and sculpted them with perfection myself. The third part of my project was a piece of cake. I was in a bar, she was drunk and the rest was too easy.

And so here I am, four months after committing to my project, wine in hand and imagining how I’m going to be written into the history of the art world. Suddenly the doorbell rings. I put my glass down and got up to answer.

“Hello son” My father said gingerly on my doorstep. I smiled glad to see him.

“Come in Dad” I happily hugged him as he stepped inside.

“I thought its been awhile since we spoke so I thought I’d just stop by, I hope you don‘t mind” He said warmly as we released our embrace in unison.

“Of course not, it’s good to see you Dad, actually, seeing as you’re here I’d like to show you my latest work” I beamed with pride as I headed off to my studio with my father following behind me. I gestured my three women as he entered and he was stunned. He said nothing as he gazed upon it, moved closer and took in the magnificence of it. He didn’t need to say anything. He was impressed and it was written all over his face. Then he looked back at me slightly unsure, as if he wanted to say something. There was no way he could know they were real women, I was certain, or at least hopeful.

“Son, I need to show you something” he said solemnly and I could only wonder what he could possibly mean.

“What?” I asked.

“It’ll be better if I just show you” He said seriously and we headed off back to his house, the house I’d grown up in. We didn’t speak on the way and I tried to think what could be so important to him and why would he want to show me now. As we made our way into the house in silence I was none the wiser.

“Upstairs, my bedroom” My father instructed and I was apprehensive as I made my way upstairs, I warily opened the door to my fathers bedroom. The only thing I saw as I stepped in was a beautiful bronze woman. Everything else in the room paled into insignificance. She was even more captivating, angelic and spellbinding than my own.

“This is your mother John” My father soberly announced and I immediately knew it was really her. She had never left. My father was brilliant, I couldn’t have respected or loved him more. He had immortalized my mother. And she was beautiful.

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