West Valley High Day

Releasing Susan Mitchell from the small cabinet she had been trapped in since yesterday evening was more difficult than The Artist had expected. The vibrator had kept the young woman company all night as she stewed inside her prison, her head poking out between the split countertop. Susan had slept very little, awakened constantly by the intruder against her pussy. The Artist thought he could use a box cutter to slice through the adhesive he had used to secure the counter, but the blade broke. Susan's eyes widened as the vibrator started up again and she worried she was going to be stuck here forever as the man examined the countertop with a frown on his face. The man left her alone in her prison again but returned after a few minutes with his reciprocating saw. Susan was happy to see that this time it held a long saw blade instead of a dildo. He slid the saw between the cabinet and countertop. Susan panicked as she heard the wood crunching and envisioned the saw slipping and decapitating her. But the man controlled the saw and she felt the countertop loosen around her neck. The man sat the saw down and lifted the countertop off the cabinet. He unlocked the cabinet door and removed the wires from the vibrator and the nipple clamps. Susan crawled out of the cabinet and lay in a ball on the floor, her tired limbs sore and cramped.

The Artist ordered her to go take a shower. She unclipped the clamps from her chest and rubbed her pained nipples. She sat the vibrator down on a counter and headed upstairs to the bathroom. She turned on the shower and all of the body spray nozzles and let the hot water hit her naked body from all sides. She was tired and sore but knew she would get no rest today. She took her time washing her long blonde hair and then stepped out of the shower to towel off.

When she returned to the kitchen, The Artist was nowhere to be found. He had removed the small cabinet and cleaned up the sawdust. She went to the refrigerator and got some orange juice and picked up an apple from a bowl on the kitchen island. The man returned and made himself some toast and offered some to Susan along with cereal. "Today, we have a costume party," he said. "When you are done with breakfast, meet me in the foyer."

Susan arrived a few minutes later and saw a long runway had been built down the hallway from the foyer. Bright lights lined both sides along with multiple cameras. She saw a rack of clothes hanging on a rack next to the runway. The Artist picked a garment bag off the rack and handed it to Susan and said "Let's start with this one." Susan unzipped the bag and pulled out garment. Inside the bag was a costume that was obviously a harem girl outfit. It consisted of several pieces. The top was a purple bra adorned with gold coins dangling from it. Susan pulled it on and the metal discs bounced against her bare belly. There was a pair of purple thong panties in the bag and Susan bent over and slid those on. It has been awhile since she had worn underwear. She then pulled the sheer pants off the hanger and pulled them on. They were tight around her ankles and waist and billowed in the middle. A pair of strappy sandals completed the ensemble.

The Artist tied her hands together in front of her with purple rope and let her back to the start of the runway. "Please practice your best runway walk, Art. When you get to the end of the runway, let's see some belly dancing." Susan rolled her eyes but thought that at least she was clothed for this art project. She climbed the short stairs onto the platform and began walking, placing one foot in front of the other, keeping her back straight and eyes straight ahead. She held her hands at her waist until she reached the end of the runway, then raised them over her head and began shaking her hips as she moved in a small circle. The Artist gave a soft clap and Susan turned and made her way back down the runway to the start. The Artist untied her hands and she walked over to the rack to find her next costume.

The next outfit didn't seem much different to Susan as she pulled the pieces out of a second garment bag, but after looking at them, she recognized the outfit. It was a rather expensive looking replica of the slave costume from Star Wars, much better made than the cheap one she had work once to a Halloween party. She slid off the harem girl costume and hung it on a hanger and picked up the metallic bra. She slipped it on and realized it didn't cover much. But it covered more than the metal panties. The long flowing fabric in the front and back would provide some coverage as long as she moved carefully. She slipped on the ankle high boots and looked at the other pieces in the bag. The Artist showed her how to place the metal bracelets on her upper arms and then fastened the metal collar around her neck and around each of her wrists. Then he picked up a heavy metal chain from a box on the bottom of the rack and locked it to her collar. Two other chains were connected to her wrists and her neck as well.

Susan made her way to the runway, her head being pulled down by the chains. Walking was difficult and the woman shuffled more than walked down the long path. She paused at the end as The Artist's camera flashed then she made her turn and headed back down the runway.

The Artist ordered her to strip. She unlocked the chains and slipped out of the skimpy costume. The man told her to grab the next bag off the rack. She unzipped the bag to reveal the white dress inside. The Artist came over and helped her remove the dress from the bag. It was a long white wedding dress. The man helped Susan into it, cinching the tight corset behind her back, perfectly accentuating her hourglass figure. The tops of her breasts were exposed in the strapless gown, but it was the most clothing she had worn in a long time. The Artist helped her into the white high heels, then pulled the girl's arms behind her back and carefully tied her wrists and forearms with a strand of white ribbon.

The man instructed Susan to open her mouth and he slid a white stick into her mouth with two round white rings on the side. Ribbon tied to each ring wrapped around her neck, gagging her. The Artist placed the white veil on her head and adjusted it in front of her face, then returned to his cameras. Susan climbed carefully onto the catwalk and strutted her way towards the man at the other end. She found herself really getting into the fashion show. She always wanted to be a model, and despite the strange circumstances, Susan was having fun for the first time in a long time.

The Artist helped her out of the bridal outfit and brought over a new costume. This consisted of just a flowing black tutu, which Susan slid over her hips. The Artist had her sit down and he shoved her feet into a pair of ballet boots that felt two sizes too small. Her toes were pinched in the narrow point of the shoes. The man helped her to her feet and she teetered because the heels on the shoes were at least eight inches high, forcing her fully onto tiptoe.

The man pulled down on a rope from the ceiling and Susan watched as he tied it into a noose. He slid it over her neck and tightened it. Now the woman had no choice but to maintain her balance on the high pointy heels or else risk being choked. The Artist started taking pictures. He told her to slowly spin around in a circle and she shuffled her feet, taking small steps to maintain her balance.

After a few minutes of photography, the man came over and released the rope around her neck. He grabbed her left ankle and bent it behind her and slipped the rope over it, tying it tight, pulling her leg up behind her head. Now she was moving around in a circle without even trying, spinning slowly as she tried to maintain her balance on one leg.

Susan's enjoyment at being a model came to an end with the final costume. After stripping reluctantly out of the ballet outfit, The Artist helped her into a pair of boots with clunky square heels. Then he had her stand as he pulled out a paint brush and began painting her naked stomach and back. The man left her to dry as he went to his garage and returned with another wooden contraption. It was a circular platform with a wooden pole. In the middle of the pole was a short piece of wood.

The man lifted Susan onto the wood, the pole positioned between her legs, her painted stomach resting on the plank, which ended between her tits. The man picked up a horse saddle and placed it on her back. He grabbed her ankles and tied rope around the boots and pulled it up to a hook on the ceiling, bending her legs. He stretched her arms down in front of her and tied her wrists with rope.

Carnival music began to play as the platform slowly started rotating. Susan, as a carousel horse, spun around in place as The Artist captured every moment on videotape.