West Valley High Day

Roger McClaire, a man who preferred to be called "The Artist" had been waiting for this package to arrive Monday morning. The delivery men carried it into the sprawling mansion by two hand holds cut into the side of the box. They commented that it was rather heavy for a relative small cardboard box. The man explained it was special art supplies for his latest photo exhibition. The delivery men sat it down in the open foyer of The Artist's house. As soon as they left, Roger eagerly found a box cutter to slice through the tape holding the box closed. Carefully, he slit the box down the sides. Inside was another smaller box wrapped in shiny silver wrapping paper with two small holes where the hand holds had been in the outer box.

The Artist grabbed a bag from a shelf and pulled out one of his cameras and a tripod and set them up so he could videotape the unboxing of his present. He slid the box cutter under the silver ribbon around the box and cut it loose, letting the ends fall to the floor. Like a kid on Christmas Eve, he hurriedly tore off the wrapping paper. He repositioned his camera so it was now pointing directly at the top of the box. Using his knife carefully, he slid it through the tape holding the box shut and slowly opened the cardboard flaps.

Sitting inside the box, wrapped tightly in a ball with thick strips of black bondage tape was the naked body of Susan Mitchell. The Artist's friend, Stephen Krutz, had agreed to loan him West Valley's prized pupil after The Artist had explained his plans for his latest photo exhibition. Using the knife, the man carefully slit the edges of the inner box and folded the sides flat to fully expose the gift inside.

The young girl had black tape covering her mouth and eyes with the tape wrapped around her head. Her bare skin was glistening with sweat after being trapped inside the box for several hours. Her ankles were taped tightly together with the thick black tape. More tape had been wrapped up her shins and around her back to turn her into a tight ball. Her wrists were taped in front of her to her ankles and bound to her legs so she could not move them. There was tape around her neck that pinned her head to the top of her knees. The Artist stepped back and checked his camera to make sure he was getting good coverage,

The man started unwrapping Susan by removing the tape from her eyes and mouth and cutting her neck loose from her knees. She looked up at the man, who introduced himself. "I am 'The Artist'," he said, "and that is how you shall refer to me." Susan rolled her eyes but if the man caught it, he gave it no notice. "I specialize in a certain type of photo art, focusing especially on the nude female form. Thank you for volunteering to assist me in my latest portfolio." Susan had not volunteered for any of this, she thought to herself, but what else was new. She was now thoroughly defeated. After months of abuse and torture, she had given up all hope of finding a way out of her predicament. She knew once she released the millions of dollars of drug cartel money that her mother had stolen to Krutz, she would either wind up dead or remain his plaything forever. She went back and forth on which fate was worse.

The Artist used the box cutter to slice away the tape binding Susan's wrists and ankles and then helped her peel away the remnants. She stretched out her arms and legs, which were cramping after several hours inside the cardboard box.

The man spoke again. "Let's start today with some still life." Susan had no idea what was in store for her, but she knew it was not likely to be enjoyable. The Artist led the naked woman to a corner of a large room off the foyer and told her to sit down and cross her legs. He wrapped rope around her ankles and shins and tied her hands behind her back. He walked over to a table and picked up a potted plant and balanced it on her head. He stepped back to the foyer and removed his camera from the tripod and returned to snap photos of her from several angles. "This is still life, Art", he said, "so please remain still. If that plant falls, you shall not be happy with the consequences." Susan knew all about consequences and tried her best to keep the plant balanced.

After taking quite a few photos of her, the man lifted the plant off Susan's head and sat it on the floor. He untied her wrists and told her to stand up and hold her arms out in front of her. He tied her wrists tightly again and also wrapped rope around her elbows to pull them together, straining her shoulders. The Artist picked up the potted plant again and sat it on Susan's outstretched palms. "Again, do not drop that," he said. "You will not be happy if you do." Susan thought to herself that she didn't need the constant reminders.

Luckily the man wasn't making her hold any particular pose for very long, which was good for Susan after hours cramped in that small box. The man sat the plant back down on the table where he had found it and untied her. On one side of the large room were two upright posts with two wooden rails sitting next to them. The Artist led Susan over to stand between the uprights with her hands in the air. He positioned the first rail behind her neck and locked it into a slot on each of the uprights. Then he did the same with the second rail, pinning her neck and wrists into half-circles cut in the rails so her wrists and head were now in a stockade. The Artist left and returned with a cart with four flower vases on it. He placed one each on the uprights and then placed the other two in the palms of the woman's hands. Susan shifted uncomfortably. The Artist began snapping pictures again. Susan was used to being photographed nude but wondered where these photos might be displayed.

When the man was sure he had enough coverage, he released the girl and told her to lie down on the floor on her back. He lifted her legs and bent them back over her head so her toes were touching the floor a few inches behind her head. He tied her ankles tightly and stretched the rope to one of the upright posts. He tied her wrists up to her ankles as well leaving her lewdly displayed on the floor, her whole body aching. The Artist reached for one of the flower pots and pulled out a single red rose. He brought it over and slipped into Susan's open pussy. Susan prayed the man has shaved off the thorns and he must have because the stem slid easily and painlessly inside her. She was forced to hold this position for much longer as The Artist took quite a bit of time filming his naked flower holder from all angles.

Susan tried as hard as she could to hold back the tears she could feel welling up in her eyes. She wondered if The Artist noticed because he removed the flower. The man left her there in the awkward position for a few minutes before returning with a long tapered candle. He slid the long candle between her legs and used a lighter to ignite it. Susan thought this was even more humiliating than the flower and she feared dripping hot wax landing on her exposed cunt. The Artist explained it was a dripless candle. "Can't be injuring my Art so early," he laughed. It was the 'early' part that concerned Susan the most..

After some time, the man placed the candle back in its candle holder and untied the girl. She stretched out her arms and legs for a moment before being told to kneel and place her hands behind her back. Susan did as she was told as the man tied her wrists and ankles together. He wrapped a white ribbon through the girl's hair and tied it to her ankles, pulling down on her hair so she now stared up at the ceiling. He picked up the candle from the candleholder and slid it into the girl's mouth, again being admonished to hold the position and not drop the candle. Susan clamped onto it with her teeth, staring up at the flickering flame.

When The Artist was sure he had enough photos, he removed the candle from the young woman's mouth and untied her to reposition her for his next shot. Now Susan found herself being used as a piece of art against the wall. The Artist told her to stand with her legs spread up against the wall with her hands in the air beside her head. He lit a second candle and placed one in each of her hands. He pulled out a long leather whip and showed it to her. "If you move," he said, "this goes across your breasts." That was enough to make sure she stood perfectly still as the heard the click of the camera shutter over and over as the man moved around her, capturing every angle.

The Artist was still not done with his candelabra. He put the candles back in their holders and handed Susan a pair of leather boots and told her to put them on. Then he tied her wrists behind her back. The man accessed a control panel and two recessed ceiling lights opened on a hinge and metal chains began descending from the ceiling. Susan wondered how many other women had come before her in this house of horrors. Or was all of this just for her? The man attached each chain to anchors on the boots and soon she felt herself being pulled into the air. When just her head was still resting on the ground, The Artist picked up the two candles again, relit them, and shoved them both into Susan's exposed pussy. Then he continued lifting her into the air until her feet were less than a foot from the ceiling. The Artist took his time photographing his human candle holder from all sides. Susan was getting a little dizzy from all of the blood rushing to her head.

After completing his photos of the upside down girl, The Artist lowered Susan to the ground and released her before placing a leather collar around her neck and snapping a leash to it. Susan knew what to do and followed behind the man out of the room, walking on her hands and knees like a dog. The next room was a more traditional living room with couch, a coffee table and end tables and several bookshelves, which were mostly empty.

The Artist picked a lamp off one of the end tables and told Susan to climb onto the table. He made her sit on her knees with her legs spread. He used rope to tie her ankles to her thighs and more rope to tie her hands behind her back again. He pulled the lamp shade off the lamp on the floor and placed it over her head, covering her eyes and nose. She heard the snap of his camera shutter and could see the flash going off as she tried to sit perfectly still. At least her face wouldn't be visible in these photos, she thought, as if she had any modesty left.

The Artist removed the lamp shade and then unscrewed the top piece of the lamp. He leaned the girl's head back and placed the metal post in her mouth, shoving it deep inside. He threaded the cord out of her mouth and down her back, then replaced the lampshade on top of post before clicking the switch and turning the light on. Susan closed her eyes so the light from the bulb did not blind her. The man order her to hold the lamp upright and she tried her best to keep her head back so the lamp was straight for the man's pictures. She worried a little about the electricity so close to her mouth but would being electrocuted really be so bad now?

When The Artist was done in the living room, he reattached the leash and led Susan on her hands and knees to his dining room. He told her to climb onto the table and lie on her back. He left and returned a few minutes later with a large spool of plastic. He taped one end with packing tape to the table and pulled the sheeting over her shoulders. He wrapped it under the table and continued over her bare breasts, smashing them under the wrap. He continued down her stomach, and hips and then all the way down her spread legs. He returned to her upper body and wrapped the plastic over her head, poking a small hole for her nose and another for her mouth. When he was done wrapping her, he found a hair dryer and began running it up and down the plastic, causing it to shrink and form tightly against her skin. He finished off his display by placing one of the slender white candles in her mouth and lighting it. Susan could not move even an inch. She was finding it very hard to breathe through the small slit near her nose and with open mouth on the candle. Having the plastic compress against her chest wasn't helping. She started to panic and The Artist must have noticed because he came over with a knife and sliced the plastic away.

After he set her free, it was dinner time. He led her into the kitchen and had her sit on a square post that held up one end of a railing that separated the kitchen from the dining area. He tied her hands behind her back. He fumbled around in a kitchen drawer and came out with a new collar. This one had a small platform sticking out of the front. On this little platform, he placed a bottle. Susan could see the label and it was some kind of meal replacement shake. He stuck a straw in the bottle and pushed the straw into Susan's lips. She hadn't eaten today so she welcomed the sustenance, although she could have done without the snapping of The Artist's camera shutter as she drank.

Following her liquid lunch, Susan was led back to the living room and the Artist had her stand behind the couch. He used thick elastic straps to bind her ankles and knees and additional straps to pin her arms down at her side. He placed a thin flashlight in the girl's mouth and then sat down on the couch, the leash attached to her collar draped over his shoulder. He pulled out his tablet computer and began thumbing through the photos he had taken. He pulled on the leash to make Susan lean forward and she understood he wanted the light to shine on the tablet. She did her best to position the light, still fearful of the whip he had shown her earlier.

After several hours of looking at photos, deleting ones he didn't like, and sorting them into albums, he reached up and removed the light from Susan's mouth. Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips. He untied her and let her over to the front of the room. The Artist positioned Susan on a bar stool in front of the large picture window in the front of the house. He tied her ankles together to the legs of the stool and bound her hands behind her back, pulling the rope down to fasten them to the stool as well. For good measure, he wrapped rope around her thighs and tied that under the stool's seat. He placed a bit gag in her mouth and a blindfold over her eyes.

The Artist patted Susan on her bare butt and said, "Good night, Art." He walked away, leaving the young woman exposed in the open window. Susan trembled as she faced the reality of spending the rest of the evening and night tied naked to this stool.