West Valley High Day

The calendar on the wall said it was the second day of March. For Susan Mitchell, this meant she had now been a prisoner of West Valley Academy Headmaster Stephen Krutz for six months. That meant one half year of being physically, emotionally and sexually tortured at the hands of a sadistic madman. Susan knew there was no immediate end in sight. Krutz was never going to set her free. Once he had used her to gain access to the drug cartel's billions that her mother had been slowly siphoning away, he would sell Susan or kill her. Since she had discovered the headmaster's motivation for torturing her, she had tried to imagine a way out, but so far, nothing had come to her. She had become resigned to her fate, which she supposed was exactly what Krutz expected.

The young coed had suffered through a lot of painful and humiliating experiences in her time under the headmaster's control, but she had to admit this week was one of the weirdest. Being a human art installation for the man who called himself simply "The Artist" was strange to say the least. She had become accustomed to being filmed and videotaped in painful and humiliating positions, but she wondered what type of exhibition The Artist planned to show these photos in.

Susan Mitchell had time to stare blankly at the large calendar on the wall because once again she found herself with no place to go and unable to move. She was in the large open room of The Artist's mansion again this morning. The man had positioned a desk against one wall on the room, and supported on that desk were two heavy u-shaped pillars made out of 4x4 pieces of wood. One short end of each pillar sat on top of the desk with the back of the pillar against the wall and the top of the 'U' protruding perpendicularly. Susan was currently sitting, if a person could call it that, on top of those two wooden extensions. Her legs were fully spread and the wood was digging into her thighs. Rope encircled her thighs, binding her to the wood.

Above the young woman's head was a shelf which she was holding up with her arms to prevent its full weight from resting solely only on her head. The Artist had placed several books and a vase on top of the shelf to add more weight. He was currently taking photos of her, and she imagined he was zooming in on her spread legs. She had once again been admonished to remain as still as possible. Her mind dreamed of the idea of throwing the heavy wooden shelf right at the man's head but she knew she lacked the strength (or maybe the courage). And besides, she was still bound to the posts. If she killed him with the shelf, she would starve to death herself. Perhaps that would not be so bad, she thought. But Krutz had kept her alive this far and she knew he could not let her die yet, at least not until she had released the cartel's money to him.

The young woman was relieved when The Artist finished photographing her and came over and lifted the shelf off her arms, untied her, and helped her down from her perch. Her legs were stiff and sore and she was sure her thighs would be bruised from where they sat on the pillars. She stretched herself out while she watched The Artist prepare his next presentation.

He asked Susan to position herself with her back against the wall and he told her to spread her legs a foot or so apart. He made her crouch into a squat position and then placed the heavy shelf back on top of her head and hands and repositioned the books and vase. She leaned back against the wall to support herself in the squat position as she saw the repeated flash of the man's camera. He told her to lift herself from the squat position, but to be careful not to knock over the vase or any of the books. Susan slowly pushed up on the shelf with her hands and head as she unbent her knees and stood upright. The Artist smiled and kept photographing her as he told her to once again return to the squatting position. Susan thought to herself that she really didn't need any exercise today, but complaining would not get her anywhere.

When the man was done taking photos, he lifted the shelf off the girl's head, but the Artist was not done with posing Susan as a human shelf support just yet. He walked her over to the corner of the room and had her lie on her back. He grabbed her ankles and dragged her along the floor until her bare butt touched the corner and her legs were pointing straight up in the air. He bent her legs down and then tied her ankles and knees together and then tied her wrists together as well. He had her put her arms in the air and he placed a short wooden plank between her knees and wrists and tied ropes through two holes on each end to form a little shelf and then placed several books on top. At least this position provided some relief for Susan's aching legs and she was okay with him leaving her there for a while as he moved some other furniture around.

Finally The Artist came to untie her. As he was removing the shelf, the man remarked he had to go get some additional supplies from his garage. He moved Susan over in front of a Swedish shelving unit, a birch plywood set of four by four cubby holes. He spread her legs wide and wrapped rope around her ankles, lifting the corners of the shelf to position the rope underneath and tie it off through the open back. He spread her arms to the other corners and tied that rope as well so her naked body was now on full display. He set up his tripod in front of her and began recording video as she exasperatingly struggled in her bonds. She stared straight into the camera with the angriest look she could muster. If he was going to make money off these photos, she would make sure no one thought she was enjoying any of this.

The man made several trips to his garage and returned with a number of pieces of wood and other materials. On his second trip he looked at Susan and then looked around the room and turned off the video camera. He untied her from the shelving unit and walked her over to a coffee table in the middle of the room. The table had two levels, the top where drinks and books were sitting and a lower section that supported the top via posts that ran through it to the floor. He told Susan to climb onto the lower shelf. Once she was in place on her side, he tied her wrists and ankles together in a hogtie and positioned the camera to take additional video as he left to retrieve more materials. Susan stared into the camera again. She was just another object in this man's house.

The Artist returned and began putting together several of the pieces he had gathered from his garage. The first consisted of a square piece of plywood on a wooden base. The man placed two heavy planks of wood through slots that had been cut into the base. These met at the top to form a triangle and the man used a battery-powered screwdriver to fasten them together. At the back of the platform was a round hole and the man place a long dowel rod through this.

Then he returned to retrieve Susan from her shelf. He untied the girl and gave her a tissue to dry her eyes. He led her over to the platform and positioned her on the plywood, bending her neck so it was placed just under where the two planks met. He picked up another plank and held it under Susan's neck, using long screws to attach it to the triangle, pinning her head in place. He leaned the dowel rod forward so it rested on top of the triangle and he screwed a long screw downward to fasten it in place. He grabbed Susan's wrists and bent them back and tied them to the dowel. Then The Artist walked over and pulled a framed photograph of some nature scene off the wall. He used tiny screws to attach some string to the back of it and then hung it over Susan's bowed head. Susan's legs were free, but there was nowhere for her to go with her arms tied and head pinned. She shifted from side to side to give each leg some rest as The Artist captured her nude body from every angle.

The young woman was happy when The Artist released her from that pose, but she knew he was not done with her yet. He had gone back to his workshop and come back with a small wooden box. He disassembled the box and had Susan sit on the plywood bottom. He tied her wrists to her ankles and spread her legs apart. He reattached the back and two sides of the box with a screwdriver, then placed the wooden top over her head. Instead of putting the front piece of wood back, however, he instead screwed a piece of plexiglass to the front. There were four small holes in the plastic, just enough to let air into the box. Susan was now confined to the cube, unable to really move. It was already warm in the room, but the temperature inside the box was quickly increasing and Susan was already sweating. She saw the camera flash going on and off as The Artist captured more photos of her.

Susan had no idea how long she had spent confined to the small cube but she knew it had been too long. When The Artist finally unscrewed the front and top from the box, Susan fell over, her arms and legs cramping. She was bathed in sweat, her blonde hair matted to her face. The man brought over a large glass of cold water with a straw and Susan gulped it down quickly. He helped her to her feet and led her to the kitchen. She was allowed to sit at the table today as The Artist made her a sandwich and sat a bowl of fruit in front of her. She devoured the food quickly and drank down two more glasses of water.

The Artist told her to go upstairs to the bathroom and take a shower. Susan happily headed upstairs, needing not just the shower, but also to relieve herself. When she finished the shower, she came back downstairs, but The Artist was nowhere to be seen. Susan walked to the large window in the living room and looked outside. She thought about whether she should try to run away. She had no idea where she was, but knew this might be her best opportunity. She walked to the front door and found it was locked with a deadbolt. No key was visible. So much for the idea of escape, she thought. She headed back to the kitchen and helped herself to a soda from the refrigerator and sat down at the table to drink it.

Several hours passed before The Artist returned. Susan had gone back upstairs to the bedroom and climbed into bed to take a nap. She had gotten very little good sleep in the past week. Correction, she thought, in the last several months. She had fallen asleep quickly and only awoke when she heard the bedroom door open. She rolled over and saw her captor standing in the doorway. He had a slight smile on his face. "Well, making yourself at home, I see?"

Susan sat up and pulled her covers over the chest. She wasn't sure why given this guy had filmed her naked all week. "I, um, didn't know where you went, so I thought I should get some rest."

The man nodded. "After trying to leave, I noticed." Susan should have realized this guy would have cameras everywhere.

"Uh, no. I thought you might be outside," Susan lied. She saw the whip in his hand now and winced.

"Roll over on your stomach," he said.

"Please, sir, I wasn't trying to escape," she begged. "Please don't whip me again."

The man paused, staring at the naked woman. "Well, it does require more retouching to cover the whip marks," he said. "So maybe we can defer your punishment." Susan was relieved although she knew she had only delayed the inevitable. But maybe if she could continue to obey, he might let her off easy.

The man motioned to her to get up and follow him downstairs. He had her sit against one wall in the living room. He asked her to cross her legs and he tied her ankles tightly together in front of her. He used some red rope to form a rope bra, passing rope under, over and around her bare breasts. The man walked over to the other side of the room and picked up an electronic keyboard that was sitting on a metal stand. He brought it over and placed it on Susan's head. She held her hands up to balance it. The man pulled over a stool and sat in front of the keyboard and began to play.

The man played the piano for almost an hour before lifting it off Susan's head and placing it back on its stand. Then he picked up some more rope and wrapped it around Susan's neck and pulled her head down and tied the end to her ankles so she was bent over. He pulled her arms behind her back and tied her wrists together. Then The Artist picked up the nude girl and carried her over to a set of shelves. He placed her on her back on a middle shelf and said "Goodnight, Art". Susan moaned, realizing she would be left like this for the evening.