Dominating Iris

Aphrodite

The short walk from the car to the building's entrance exhausted her. Pain shot through her body on every move she made. Alex carried her up to his apartment and let her down carefully when they got to the door.

"Wait there, I'll just unlock the door and carry you inside," he said as he fumbled with the key and pushed the door open.

"I can walk, thanks." She trudged in until she reached the couch and sat down in slow motion. "I feel like an old person, I think I need a cane." She laughed.

Alex opened the door to the only room she had never seen, and walked back to sit beside her on the couch.

"That asshole really roughed you up, didn't he? He wasn't a real dominant, you know, he was just some fucked-up guy obsessed with you. I would have tied him up a tree with a shotgun up his ass... one move and..." he said, fists clenched tight.

"Please, let's not talk about him anymore. You said you were gonna help me forget... you have to forget it too. I have to move on from here and get on with my life... if only I could move around, but my whole body hurts like hell."

"You need to rest and regain your strength, that's all. I'm gonna make you a nice dinner later, but I have to show you something first... here, let me carry you to my bedroom."

"Okay, so I'm not off limits anymore?"

"I guess not." He laughed. "I shouldn't have done that... sorry."

"Apology accepted, sir. I can't wait to see your crib." She giggled as Alex cradled her in his arms towards the bedroom and sat her on a king-sized postered bed.

Besides the bed, the room was huge for a bachelor. The wall on the street side was all glass lined with windows. The adjacent wall facing the bed made Amanda gasp in amazement.

"Wow! So this is what you've been working on all this time? It's beautiful, Alex." She looked at the wall filled with paintings of nudes in different sizes arranged perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle. "And they're all... me?"

Each painting showed her in different erotic poses, except for one— a life-sized portrait of her showing her face down to her breasts— her head tilted, eyes looked down, a hand in her hair— the perfect submissive pose.

"They're all you, Iris. After I did the one in your office, I started working on these babies, and painted each one from memory..." he said, and sat beside her.

"I'm— I don't know what to say... I look like a goddess in those paintings, it's unbelievable."

"But you are a goddess, Iris... look..." he gently pushed her shoulders down until her back laid against the bed.

The ceiling over the bed showed a mural of what initially looked like a modernist version of Boticelli's Birth of Venus, where Venus or Aphrodite stood naked on a giant scallop shell with Zephyr blowing her towards the shore where the Hora of Spring welcomed her with a cloak.

"The Birth of Iris, that's what I want to call it..." he said as he stared at his own work with reverence.

"My god, Alex..." she gasped, "... I—I still don't know what to say... these are all amazing." She reached for his face and kissed him.

"When I'm old and my memory starts to fail, at least I have these to remember you by." He turned to face her and looked into her eyes. "You are my goddess, Iris."

"You never called me by my real name, though. I'm just wondering why... don't you like the real me?"

"Amanda and Iris are one and the same, I just like to call you Iris, because it's special for me."