At the nexus of art, sex, and bdsm

She stands on the pedestal
naked and trembling,
arms pulled above her
held taut by the chain.
Her feet grip the marble
her thighs slightly parted.
He smiles at the droplets
that slip from within.
Pygmalion had nothing on
this greedy curator,
watching her face betray
pain, joy, and fear.
Eying his property,
planning her torment,
he knows she'll submit
and is glad that he's near.

(posted here with permission of the owner)