Redux

The painter ravished his model, with no other thought than to fuck her, as fast and as forcefully as he could, for as long as he could, the ravishment having become an end unto itself. His hips moved according to some primeval instinct as old as time, and he was driven entirely by hormones and the propensities not of his own nature, but of Nature herself, a captive to primordial needs and irrational desires.

As he launched his cock deep into Anne's ass again, something inside him seemed to uncoil all at once, to unwind within his balls, and to spring from his loins in thick, spurting streamers. He withdrew his prick, and several more warm, wet, white banners of semen unfurled, these splattering Anne's back, buttocks, and thighs. Danielson's ejaculate dribbled down the model's balls and perineum and trickled down her upper legs. She, too, lost control, and her small cock convulsed, spewing her seed across the studio floor. She gasped, and another jet of her fecundating fluid spurted from her.
A week later, good news came from Danielson's patron. He adored the painter's works, and he commissioned another set of three modifications of famous paintings, on the condition that the artist would employ the same lovely "shemale."

The first was Leda and the Swan, itself to be based upon a copy--the one by Cesare Sesto, of Leonardo da Vinci's lost work; the second Eugene-Emmanuel Amaury-Duval's Psyche, and the third Emilio Fernandez's Hermaphrodite.

Danielson had no doubt but that Anne would look lovely in all these guises, just as she had as Io, Venus, and Eve, and he was anxious to get started on the new projects, for, upon the completion of each, he knew that Anne would want to celebrate the resulting masterpiece as much, if not more, than he would--with sex--and he was looking forward to doing just that.