He crowd liked the artwork even though their was something haunting about it. An image that was not quite in focus. Something that was known but perhaps forgotten. But that something was driving them to a state of controlled frenzy.
Two people noticed this. The artist, Jean-Paul Pascal stood watching the crowd with his own sense of excitement. bdsm store He could feel their hungers growing within them and he reveled in the fact that his work was causing it. His art was very personal to him as though an extension of himself, and all these people were getting horny looking at it, looking at pieces of him placed on the wall for display. He smiled and bdsm femdom sipped the champagne watching them, not wanting to miss a moment or nuance of the frenzy.
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Here was contempt in her eyes and he wondered if his artwork offended her or if the contempt was only a symptom of a deeper loathing. He glanced back at the crowd and decided they were not nearly as interesting as this lady. Yes, lady, for she was a lady, he could see that. She was beautiful, with long brown hair pulled back from her face and a tight black dress on that reached down to just above the knees. She carried herself with grace and had a noble look to her eyes. Her body was curvaceous and legs long and tight. But the thing that most struck him was the dignity about her, the self confidence that she exuded.
Claire knew he was watching her. She had seen him glance her way and then turn to stare openly at her. She knew in a few seconds he would free bdsm pics walk over and introduce himself, waiting for a moment there after for adulation and fawning that usually accompanied that revelation at the fetish bdsm stories artist's show. He would be surprised this time, she thought, no fawning, bent kneed, little groupie here. She smiled and across the room Jean-Paul felt sad. There was a bi
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