Pathways to Submission: Sally
Copyright© 2023 by Rachael Jane
Chapter 33: Freya’s Portraits
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 33: Freya’s Portraits - Sally is a young woman looking for a new job. A chance meeting on a crowded bus introduces her to Penelope, a professional dominatrix. Penelope needs an assistant, and although Sally is naturally submissive and not ideal what Penelope wants, she asks Sally to call her. Sally is soon in Penelope's thrall.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Reluctant Slavery Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Interracial Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Illustrated
I’m tidying up the apartment kitchen after our evening meal when my phone buzzes. Freya’s name flashes on the screen. The message is short, almost breathless.
Can you come to my apartment tonight? It’s important.
My heart jumps. I finish the last wipe across the counter, and ask Mistress Penelope for permission to visit Freya for a few minutes. She agrees, providing I return within half an hour. I text a reply and leave almost immediately, climbing the stairs two at a time.
Freya opens her door before I knock. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright with a kind of nervous excitement. She grabs my hand immediately. I step inside, and she closes the door behind us. Her studio is a mess of colour with brushes scattered in odd places, canvases leaning against every wall, the smell of linseed oil is thick in the air. But there’s a new energy here today. A spark.
“They accepted them, Domina,” she says. “The gallery. They accepted the whole series of paintings.”
I blink, then smile so wide it hurts. “Freya, that’s amazing!”
She nods rapidly, almost dazed.
“They said the new pieces feel more confident. More appealing. They want to feature them in the next showcase in six weeks time.”
I squeeze her hand. “I knew they’d love them.”
She laughs, a shaky sound. “I didn’t. I was terrified, Domina.”
Freya pulls me toward her easel. “There’s more, Domina.”
She picks up a sheet of paper ... an email printout ... and hands it to me. I scan the text. My breath catches.
“They liked the portrait of me?” I ask.
Freya nods, biting her lip. “They said it was ‘striking’ and ‘emotionally resonant’. They want more, Domina.”
I look up at her. “More portraits? Of me?”
She nods again, cheeks reddening. “Yes, Domina. They want a small series. Three or four pieces. They think you have ‘presence’.”
Presence. The word feels strangely unreal. I’m used to being in the background ... supporting Mistress Penelope by helping her with clients and keeping things running. I’m not used to being the focus of attention.
Freya wrings her hands. “I didn’t know how to ask you, Domina. I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
I step closer. “Freya. I’d love to sit for you.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Really,” I say. “If it helps you, I’ll do it.”
She exhales, relief washing over her face. “Thank you, Domina. Thank you.”
I smile. “When do we start?”
She hesitates. “Now?”
I laugh softly. “We can make a start, but I must return to Mistress Penelope within the next twenty minutes.”
Yet again I’m pulled in two directions at once. I cannot overlook my duty to Mistress Penelope, but nor can I ignore Freya’s needs. It’s a balancing act that is becoming difficult to manage. Mistress Penelope controls my mind, while Freya has my heart.
Freya’s shoulders relax, and she gestures toward the stool near the window. “Okay. Sit there. Please, Domina.”
I sit, adjusting my posture. Freya moves around the room quickly, gathering what she needs and adjusting the light. She’s excited but nervous, and I feel a warm tenderness rise in me. I notice that she removes her clothing before starting. She’s not entirely naked, but her flimsy panties and bra do nothing toward preserving her modesty. She looks so delectable that I’m tempted to take advantage. However, time is limited, and I promised to help her.
“Freya,” I say gently when it’s clear she is really nervous. “It’s just me.”
She stops, meeting my eyes. Something softens in her expression. “I know. I’m sorry, Domina. I’ll focus on the task at hand. We’ve time for me to make a few sketches for further consideration.”
She steps closer, lifting my chin slightly with her fingertips. “Hold still ... please, Domina,” she whispers.
I notice that she has started calling me ‘Domina’ more often. It seems to calm her, while boosting my own sense of being needed. However, unlike Mistress Penelope with me, I would never punish Freya for forgetting to address me as Domina.
Freya adjust my position. Her touch is feather‑light, being both careful and reverent. My breath catches ... not from the pose, but from the closeness of our two bodies. I feel a warmth flow through me from the way she looks at me, as if she’s seeing something I didn’t know I carried.
She steps back, picks up her charcoal, and begins sketching.
Freya sketches in silence at first, her movements quick and fluid. I sit still, watching her eyes flick between me and the pad. She’s focused, but there’s something else in her gaze ... something that feels warm and searching.
After a few minutes, she pauses. “Can you turn your head slightly? Toward the window. Please, Domina.”
I do. The sunlight warms my cheek. Freya studies me, her expression softening.
“You have this calmness,” she says quietly, as though musing. “It’s hard to capture.”
I smile. “I’m not always calm.”
“You are with me, Domina.”
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