West Valley High Day

After her ordeal in the workshop of The Artist on Friday, Susan Mitchell spent the weekend nearly alone in the guest bedroom upstairs. The man had carried her there Friday afternoon and laid her down on the queen sized bed. Using four lengths of chain and four padlocks, the man chained the woman's wrists and ankles to the four posts of the bed. Throughout the weekend, The Artist would return to served Susan meals each day and let her use the bathroom as well, but for the rest of the weekend, she was bound tightly to the bed by her wrists and ankles. The woman wondered why The Artist had chosen to take a break over the weekend from his photography, but she wasn't about to ask him as being chained to the bed was preferable to most of the tortures she had endured all year.

The Artist came to release her Monday morning. "I assume you are well rested and ready to complete our project this week, Art?" Susan nodded. "I've spent the weekend preparing my next exposition pieces. I think they really are some of my better ideas." Susan didn't know what to say, so she kept quiet. The Artist gave her directions to take a shower and meet him in the kitchen. She did as she was told, lingering longer than usual in the hot water. When she felt she had dawdled enough, she headed down to the kitchen. Upon arrival there, there noticed was a small cabinet against the wall that had not been there before. But before she could think about that, the man told her to climb on top of the kitchen island. He attached a pair of cuffs around her wrists and ankles and locked them together, leaving her in a tight hogtie. The man peeled a banana and placed it in her mouth as he photographed her naked body. Susan was hungry, so she decided to take a bite of the banana and the rest of it dropped to the counter. The Artist admonished her and told her to clean up the rest so she slowly ate the rest of the fruit off the countertop. The man smiled at her and poured a bowl of cereal and placed it under her head. She looked up at him and then began eating the chocolate puffs out of the bowl like a dog.

When she was done with her cereal, the man extended the spout from the kitchen sink and stuck it into Susan's mouth. He told her to hold it tight while he filmed her. Then he turned the water on and she began quickly swallowing the stream of cold water. She thought to herself that she was pretty thirsty after the long weekend and luckily the man did not turn the water on full stream so she was able to keep up without the water choking her.

After The Artist felt he had enough photos, he released the young woman from the hogtie and had her sit cross-legged next to the sink on the island. He tied her ankles together and then ran rope above and below her breasts, pinning her forearms to her sides. He ordered her to hold her hands out in front of her and he placed a glass bowl in her hands. He reminded her again not to drop the fragile object. He extended the sink sprayer over her shoulder and turned on the cold water. The bowl slowly filled, cold water splashing on her bare breasts in the process. She held the heavy bowl as steady as she could while she was being filmed, carefuly not to move too much to prevent the water from sloshing out of the bowl.

The man left Susan sitting there on the island with the bowl in her hands as he pulled out a stockpot and placed it on the stove top. He filled it with water from the pot filler above the stove. He began adding some herbs to the pot, including basil, rosemary and oregano. Susan figured he was cooking dinner as he turned on the heat under the pot. Her arms were cramping and she hoped he would let her free soon before she dropped the fragile glass bowl. But the man left the kitchen, leaving her alone as she watched steam start to rise from the pot. Susan watched the clock on the wall as nearly thirty minutes elapsed before The Artist returned with a plastic tray in his hand. The tray had a large opening in the top.

The man lifted the lid off the pot of water, which was now at a rolling boil and examined it. He turned off the heat and removed the lid. He carefully lifted the pot off the stove and sat it on a rubber mat on the floor and placed the plastic tray on top of it. Then he walked over and picked the glass bowl from Susan's hands and dumped it into the sink. He slowly untied the ropes around her forearms and ankles, then lifted her off the countertop. The woman rubbed her arms while the man returned to the pot of water, placing his hand over it to test the temperature.

Satisfied with the heat, he led Susan over and lifted her up, telling her to spread her legs. He sat her down on the warm plastic and tied her ankles behind her to each of her wrists. Hot steam was now rising through the open hole directly on her open vagina. The man ordered her to sit still as he pulled out his camera again. "Celebrities pay a lot of money at spas for vaginal steams," he said. "Here, you get it for free." He chuckled at his comment but Susan was not amused. The steam was quite hot and she worried that her tender pussy was being burnt by the hot steam. The position was uncomfortable and holding it was not easy, especially with the heat between her legs. Her captor told her to remain on the pot as he once again left the kitchen. Tied as she was, there wasn't very far she could go anyway. She couldn't see the clock any longer so she only had to guess how long she was sitting above the steam.

The Artist reappeared pushing a large trolley with a multi-tiered birthday cake sitting on it. He lifted the upper tier off the cake and sat it on the countertop. He left and returned with a stepladder and placed it next to the cart. He untied Susan and helped her off the steam pot. He walked her over to the cake table and told her to climb the ladder. She peered down and saw the cake was hollow inside. The man ordered her to climb into the cake. She stepped off the ladder onto a small stool inside the cake and then sat down on the stool. The man pushed her head down and then placed the upper tier of the cake on top of her, enclosing her inside the pastry.

Susan was already sweating from sitting on top of the steaming pot of water and being trapped inside this cake was making her even hotter. She reached out to touch the cake and realized the inside was a wooden frame and the cake had been built around it. She felt herself being moved as The Artist wheeled the trolley through the house. The Artist rolled the cart to a stop in the two story foyer of his house and set up several cameras. Susan heard a voice and realized there was a small speaker inside her cake prison. "When I give the word, I want you to stand up and burst out of the cake. The top layer will fall away as you push up on it."

Susan took a deep breath and repositioned herself with her arms near her head. She heard the voice tell her to "go" and she pushed up with her arms as she used her legs to power herself out of her squatting position. As The Artist had said, the top of the cake popped off and crashed onto the floor, which was covered in plastic. Susan stood up, her breasts and stomach now visible above the second tier of the cake. She turned and looked into one of the cameras as The Artist applauded.

The man left her standing inside the cake while he went back to the kitchen and retrieved the step ladder. He helped the naked girl climb out of the cake. She was hot and sweaty, her blond hair matted to her face.

The man led her over to the new cabinet she had noticed earlier and ordered her to climb inside it. He had her kneel, facing the open front door of the cabinet. She worked herself into the small space and placed her hands in her lap. The man shut the glass door and locked it with a metal hasp and padlock. Using a caulking gun, Roger applied a bead of adhesive to the top of the cabinet. Then the man carried over two pieces of butcher block countertop and Susan saw the two half circles in the material. He fitted the first piece behind her head and then sat the second into place, pressing it down onto the adhesive. It was a perfect fit around her neck with only a few millimeters of clearance so there was no way for her to move. To ensure the adhesive would bond, Roger placed heavy art books on the edges of the cabinet.

"That will take about 20 minutes to set," he said. "Be back soon." Susan tried to lift the cabinet top up with her shoulders but the heaviness of the countertop and the books made it impossible for her to escape. After an hour, he returned. He opened the glass door and snapped a pair of clamps onto Susan's breasts. Wires ran from them so she knew she would soon be shocked with electricity. He also picked up the wire that ran to a vibrator he stuck inside her and ran all three wires through a small hole in the side of the cabinet and then closed the door again and locked it. She thought that was unnecessary given her head was stuck in the opening in the countertop.

The Artist sat an odd looking blender next to Susan's head. It looked like a normal blender except for the hose that was attached to the pitcher. Susan learned what this was for as the man extended it into her mouth and secured it in place with a plug gag that he strapped around her head. The man poured some milk into the blender along with some cut strawberries and some ice. After securing the lid, he turned the blender on.

Susan screamed through the gag as the vibrator in her pussy came to life along with the electrical shocks on both of her nipples. The wires attached to her were also attached to the blender. She squirmed but she had nowhere to go. When he was satisfied with the consistency of the liquid, he turned off the blender and opened the valve on the hose. There was a small pump attached and the liquid was pushed down the hose into Susan's mouth at a steady rate. She had to swallow quickly to avoid choking on it. The Artist was pleased with his contraption and decided to make a smoothie for himself, much to Susan's chagrin.