A Squirming Canvas

The light scent of smoke was pervading the air, filling her dreams. Her mind immediately made a food truck that was also a fire truck where people on fire were serving her tea. When the tea spilt into the cup, three chipmunks scarpered away with her diamonds as the cups broke and the squirrel police came to question her- Knock! Knock! Knock! Kate slumped upright as she woke from her dreamy mind by a light tapping on her bedroom door. As she straightened out to lay her head on the bed rest, a giant of a man in a white t-shirt and boxers walked in holding a full bed tray in his hands. "Rainy day special, my love!" he chirped as he set the tray down in the middle of her hips, the legs by either side of her. The giant gave her a peck on the cheek, but before he could pull away, she yanked him by the chin and pulled him in towards a deep kiss. Her giant, Charlie, left blushing as he closed the door behind him. Kate smacked her lips and looked outside. It was a freezing, wet and sunless day, the kind of day that would be miserable alone. But for Kate, rain meant crepes with honey and strawberries, a cup of Earl Grey tea and a buttermilk Rusk.

Bed trays have been made to balance on the soft bed surface, but that didn't mean it felt natural. Like she'd always asked, the tea wasn't filled to the brim, and the Crepes were folded and resting in a bowl, in case she twitched or bumped her knee against the tray. She spent a moment to smack her lips together, felt out how much of her own hair she was chewing, spat out what was there and tucked into her meal as she heard her beloved giant cleaning in the kitchen.

Charlie couldn't do anything quickly. As much as he loved cooking he was too lumbering to make it his profession. A kind person would call him bear-like. His inner critic screamed 'you're a goddamn sloth.' He was built bulky, endomorphic, obviously strong and muscled even at a distance, but also obviously pudgy. His voice was a calm baritone, the kind that would make people want to keep him talking just to hear the deep soothing vibrations. Kate would know, she got in trouble for flirting with him instead of working when they find met at her old café job. She shocked herself that she could ever be that forward, but the thought of this enormous man walking out on her life possessed the normally nebbish bookworm Kate.

As she finished her breakfast, she summoned every last fiber of willpower she had to get out of bed and face the frigid air uncovered. She lurked her way around the apartment before she saw Charlie cleaning the messy kitchen counter and snuck up behind him. She came up right underneath his shoulder blades; even jumping she couldn't reach his neck. He giggled as she tapped her fingertips along his spine and ran them down to his firm cheeks. She squeezed his ass as tightly as she could and moved his hips to sway, side to side as she buried her face in his back. He felt comfortably weak, pure contentment leaving his lungs as he finished up cleaning the dishes, as slow as ever.

After they packed everything away, they yawned together and parked themselves out on the main room's couch; her head on his chest, arms wrapped around each other, hazily watching absolutely nothing, both just blissfully tired. Charlie's eyes started feeling heavy when he heard a small 'oh' beneath him. He opened to see a show about calligraphy and brushwork from around the world. Kate crawled into his lap and leaned back, head just under his solar plexus.

"Didn't you used to do Calligraphy? Or something like that?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She titled her head straight back, seeing just his chest and the tip of his nose.

"I did all kinds of painting in college. Calligraphy was super hard though, the wrist movement's weird, and I never knew if the character was right. But then we did Persian calligraphy and that was even harder! You had to use Persian character and then you had to make them into actual drawings as well! It always got so messy and I'd get distracted and focus on how uncomfortable my wrist was feeling or comparing my strokes to someone els-" She looked back at the TV and saw the brush stroking across the paper, the tip becoming deeper and lighter with a masterful motion. She gasped and suddenly jolted to her feet, snatching Charlie's hands as she stood. "We should do that!" She shouted.

"Distracted? You? Never." She continued yanking Charlie's hand until he got off the couch. She carefully stood up on the coffee table to so she could speak to him without having to look up and demanded:

"Let me paint you!" Charlie raised an eyebrow. "You'll be my canvas! Whatever I want, still life, Calligraphy, just lie down for me and be my materpiece!" she slurred.

"Materpiece?"

"Masterpiece! You know what I mean!"

"I'm definitely not that. Plus, you know I'm... uh," He looked down sheepishly.

"Uh, you-you know I'm..." He flicked his head away as a blush crept onto his face. "Kinda ticklish?"

"Oh, my baby!" she cooed as she sweetly stroked his jaw and pulled him in for a kiss. He embraced her and nuzzled his nose to hers as he pulled back. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her face. Her eyes looked like a hunched lioness as her smile stretched past her ears.

"I know."

Kate tried to push the coffee table out of the TV space but was barely making scrapes before Charlie grabbed the corners and lifted it up and carried it away like it was a delicate stitched portrait and not heavy wood. They rolled up the carpet and laid out a futon and three towels, one on top of the other. Charlie watched as Kate puffed and fluffed the futon and some pillows. Charlie would never have imagined that fluffing a pillow could be an insanely dominant action, but from Kate he learned many things. It was a prelude to sadism; 'here's your comfort and you will need it.' Kate advertised this part of herself intensely, but she was 5 ft 1, flat as a board and despite her excitable nature she was easily ignored: Before she met Charlie, she was unused to the sound of her own voice.

She sat down on the couch and beckoned Charlie over with a 'come hither' finger. He ambled towards her, his heart pounding as his senses felt intoxicated. "Strip." She ordered, unblinking, with a finger resting on her lip. Charlie inaudibly gasped as he saw the intensity in her eyes. He didn't mean to meander like he did, but even in Kate's sights he couldn't move faster than an ox's pace. He felt more aware of his own body, like her gaze was a spotlight he couldn't escape. He awkwardly lifted his shirt up. Before it was even off his shoulder, Kate pounced, digging her fingers into the sides of his stomach and groping his hips. As he made to take off his briefs, her hands crawled on top of his. She shook her head and gently pushed, maneuvering him to take a step back.

"Where should you be, my love?" She purred. A low whimper escaped his lips. He placed his hands behind his back, grabbing his own wrist as he knelt in front of her, head tilted, eyes down. Even kneeling down in front of her, he was still half a head taller. Her hands reached up, touching his face as she caressed her way up to his hair, then took a handful and powerfully, but not painfully, pulled him down, until his head was near her lap, his massive height finally beneath hers. She licked her lips. Like a snake across a dead ox's body, her hands crept across the entire length of his neck and shoulders; exploring, teasing, tantalizing. Her voice changed when she was in her element. It became a soft whisper that slithered its way into his ears, wrapped around his brain and crawled down his back. She murmured unintelligibly as he gripped his wrist tighter, trying to focus his way out of a shiver that was tingling all over his body. "Can't put a collar on this beautiful neck today. Might stain it." She purred. Suddenly her purr became a stinging order directly to his ear: "Lie down on your back. Hands by your side, palms flat." She ordered. He obeyed.

As he lay down, he started a routine to calm himself and stop his heart from popping out his chest, a four second inhale, holding in for five seconds and exhaling for seven. Kate took a small hot towel and placed it over his eyes. "Don't move a muscle." She cooed. Charlie's hands were the size of Kate's face; he could carry four of her on his shoulders and under his arms and still run a marathon. With all his size and strength, there was nothing keeping him from moving, no ropes, no tricks, no chains. Nothing but her word, her desire for him to stay still and accept what she wanted. Yet that was stronger than any metal or binding ever made. Her absolute control was for the best: For Kate putting Charlie in bondage was like climbing a mountain and even then his shoulders were so big most bondage wasn't possible. Even holding his wrists behind his back he felt a slight stretch above his elbows.

In the dark silence he became aware of his own body, a slight breeze blowing across his chest as a thought crossed his mind. He took the towel off his eyes and called, "This'll wash off right?" Kate looked up. The silence spoke volumes.

"God. Dammit!" She yanked the towel from his hands, got dressed in something she prayed no one she knew would see her in and left the apartment.

A long trip to the arts and craft store and this time, she was completely ready: a dark yellow body paint to cover her canvas, some new and firmer synthetic bristle brushes that would be felt on the skin a little more than her duller old ones and any brush pens and less pointed pens and pencils she could see. Charlie had a quick lukewarm shower in the time she was gone, he had stayed exactly where he was for the first 15 minutes, but after that he swore he could smell his own sweat from her teasing. Kate fluffed and fixed her zone again and pointed for Charlie to lie down again.

"You don't want to paint my back instead?" He asked honestly. She shook her head.

"Not as sensitive." She said with an intense certainty. She reheated the towel, and once again placed it over his eyes. Before she began, she set all her tools for the piece down and lay down on top of him, arms wrapped around his neck, body covering him like a blanket that could only shroud his torso. She felt her entire body rise up and down with the powerful inhales of his chest and began mirroring his breathing. When she could swear their hearts were beating as one, she puffed out 'okay!' and hopped off Charlie to get her tools ready. To start, she used a wide wooden brush to cover his body in the dark yellow body paint, from the bottom of his belly to the edge of his neck.

He blew from his cheeks as he felt the wet splatter from the wide brush. "It's cold!" He barely said through a rising giggle. The paint was quick to dry as the sensation changed across his torso. "Now don't move, or you'll crack my base!" Kate warned. He could feel lumps lightly dotting his skin as she passed over, humming to herself with each fast stroke. He noticed what little body hair he had becoming flat and stiff under the paint.

He had to hold his breath as she painted his chest and shoulders. The intense sensation across the most sensitive part of his body threatened to send him into a giggling fit. With a herculean effort he puffed out a gigantic burst of air. Kate made a 'huh' noise at the sudden breath. "Just holding a cough." He mumbled. Kate waited a moment for the rest of the paint to dry before she mounted his waist and picked up her old calligraphy brush from college. It had lost some firmness, but a good fresh one was too expensive. She used the blunt end of the brush to trace the three characters she wanted on her canvas: 'Beautiful', 'love' and the super 'S': She had forgotten everything else.

The soft, bundled tip of the calligraphy brush was almost healing as it rushed across his skin. It moved on his body in traceable, predictable circles and lines, the soft tickle of the initial contact becoming a delightful flying caress as Kate pressed the brush down for thicker parts of the character. He let out rhythmic sighs, releasing all the tension in his lungs like the brush was clearing dust from inside his chest.

"Those are some happy noises!" she chuckled.

"Its wonderful..." He whispered as he exaggerated another moan through his teeth. She her characters mostly on the soft flesh of his stomach, with a smaller 'love' right between his pecks. She had put genuine effort into that one. He couldn't help but tense his abs as she painted across them. It reduced the prickly sensation, but that kept him quiet and relaxed, and Kate decided she had had enough of that. She stopped drawing her characters and switched her instrument to the brush pens.

Charlie flinched from the shock of the firm, solid tip making contact with his skin. Kate had to palm the top of his face and shove it down into his pillow before he squirmed and broke the first paint layer. "Uh-Uh!" She muttered, but waited for his chest to settle back to its slow rhythm. Whereas the other brush became more relaxing with pressure, this one had an itchy tickle at its lightest and became a scratch as she applied more pressure. She used a dark green to compliment the yellow and partially connect the bright colour to the pure black of the calligraphy, making comma and circles around the character, like explosion effects or rays of the sun on a child's drawing. The artist in her was screaming bloody murder, but with every flick and lengthy line, Charlie winced or shivered through his teeth and tried but failed to smother an involuntary laugh. He'd become her big, whimpering cello, and the brush was her bow. She stood up to change her position as she decided on the last part of her masterpiece. "Head up!" she chirped to Charlie as she removed the pillow from behind his head, resting his hair on her lap. Before she finished, she gently stroked his jaw line and rapidly tapped his ears, until his lazy, contented smile wormed its way back onto his face.

And then, she pressed her brush pen hard into his nipple, and spiralled as fast and wide as she could. His subdued laugh erupted into a bellow. The sensation of itching, scratching and tickling stayed long after her stroke had passed. As he sensed her hand above him again, he started begging "oh, no no no no! Please! Wait pleas-" but rushed to inhale as her brush spun across his chest again. It was a mix of delight, terror and surprise that soared out of his lungs as she continued circling across his shoulders, neck and chest.

"All done!" Kate chimed at last. He let out a last set of after-shock chuckles as she took the towel and softly wiped down around his eyes. As she took the towel off of his eye, he could see her upside-down face. Her eyes were soft, and she had a delightful smirk plastered across her face. "You giggly little puppy!" She cackled as she planted a big, sloppy kiss on his forehead. "Don't move for just a second more!" She said as she ran to grab her phone. She circled him and took a picture of her work from every angle, before finally taking his hands and pulling them up. He almost pulled her right back down by accident as he sat upright. He felt like he was floating into the ceiling as he stood up. He stumbled, eyes barely functional. He felt like he'd woken up from an incredible nap and his body was taking forever to snap out of its relaxed state. He took 15 minutes to walk around the apartment, to feel his legs, to feel human again. When he had stretched out and felt comfortably functional again, he went back to Kate. "All good?" she asked with an apprehensive look in her eyes. Charlie took her hand and kissed it. He sat her down and went through how they both felt.

It was a quick conversation, they'd had more intense sessions before, but Charlie knew sometimes her feeling could change even from a light moment. He didn't look away for her for a second as they decompressed. He wanted to prod, to make sure every emotion and feeling was out in the open, to make sure she was as comfortable and cooled down as he felt. When he felt like the concern had drained from her eyes, he reached out to pull her into the tightest embrace he could give, but he stopped and looked down at his chest. "One second" he mumbled, but before he could move an inch Kate ran in front of him and splattered herself against his stomach. He gave a loud, booming laugh and enveloped her in a hug. He slipped one hand out to cradle her cheek, and began kissing her forehead, her cheek and lips, nuzzling noses together and running his fingers through the back of her hair. Kate's arms could barely connect around his waist, but she still squeezed across his ribs and rested her face in his chest. He swayed their embrace, gingerly rotating around the apartment. She placed her ear in the middle of his chest. "Hey," she muttered softly, "can you hum for me?" He her head bounced ever so lightly as he chuckled from his belly, but then started a soft, low hum that tickled her ear as it vibrated from his chest.