West Valley High Day 133: Decorative 03

Susan Mitchell slept soundly despite spending the night tied face down to the bed. It was actually one of the more comfortable positions she had slept in for some time as she usually slept on a thin mattress on a concrete floor, or even worse, like last night, sitting bound in some odd position. Last night, exhaustion from her experience on her first two days with the Artist, coupled with being whipped severely by him forced her body just to shut down.

The poor girl probably would have slept most of the morning if she had not been awakened to the feeling of a penis being driven between her spread legs. She awoke quickly as the naked man thrust himself inside her. She gasped loudly and pulled on the ropes binding her wrists to the headboard but struggle was useless. She was a little surprised since she had assumed The Artist was gay based on his manners and lifestyle, but based on the way he was pounding away at her now, he didn't have issues having sex with women. His cock was surprisingly thick. He lifted her hips into the air, straining her ankles as he plowed deep inside her. She tried to control her moaning, not wanting to let on to the man that she was starting to get turned on.

Susan felt him speed up and just as she felt him reach his climax, she felt one of her own. The man withdrew and untied the girl. The bindings left red marks around her wrists and ankles. She rubbed her sore limbs. The man directed her to the bathroom door and told her to take a shower and 'make herself presentable'. Susan was happy to oblige, as she felt very dirty, not just from the unsolicited sex, but also from two days of being used as an art object around the house.

The naked woman turned on the water in the large tiled shower and climbed inside. She let the hot water soak over her, stretching and rubbing her sore shoulders, wrists and ankles. She picked up the bottle of body wash and sniffed the vaguely orange scented liquid. She soaped down all over, taking special care to try to flush the man's cum from inside her. She lingered for a while, spending extra time washing her long blonde hair.

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped herself in the thick cotton towels sitting on a rack nearby and approached the mirror. Susan Mitchell was not sure she recognized herself. She still looked the same but her face was thinner. She had lost a few pounds this year, the effect of the stress and not eating well. Her eyes were more withdrawn, lacking the sparkle most guys usually saw in them. She sighed heavily and caught sight of the makeup box sitting on the counter. She opened it to reveal a wide assortment of cosmetics. She thought to herself, 'he did say make yourself presentable' and so she leaned into the mirror and began applying foundation and blush. She carefully lined her eyes and added mascara and finished it all off with pale pink lipstick. She instantly looked and felt better, although she knew the feeling would not last. She hung the towels on a rack and sat on the toilet to blow dry her hair.

After a while, she wandered downstairs to The Artist's kitchen. The man greeted her and seemed pleased at the way she looked. He motioned her to sit on a barstool near the large center island. She did so and he handed her a bowl of cereal and a spoon and told her to eat. She was hungry and devoured the cereal quickly and he offered her a second bowl.

As she was eating, The Artist began setting out supplies, including lengths of rope along with some other accessories. When she finished eating, The Artist approached her and wrapped rope around her left ankle and pulled it up behind her and then tied the rope around her upper thigh, close to her crotch. He did the same with her right foot so her legs were spread open. Reaching down, he picked up a bent piece of pipe. On one end was a dildo, which he positioned between her legs and slid deep inside her. The bottom of the pipe was resting on the stool and the top part extended in front of her. The man tied her wrists to the pole and then on top of the pipe, the man placed a small tray, and on that he placed a wine goblet.

He started taking photos as he ordered Susan to begin sipping from the wine glass. This meant bending it towards her lips using her bound hands, which tilted the dildo impaled in her pussy awkwardly, causing her pain. She slowly tipped the glass to take a drink of the wine. Maybe being drunk will make this less painful, she thought. The man continued photographing. Susan had to tilt the pole more and more to get the liquid out of the glass and she felt the dildo sliding slightly out of her pussy. She realized she could pull it out entirely, but she thought to herself, what would be the use in that. The man would assuredly just make her put it back in and would probably add more rope to ensure it didn't move.

Susan finally finished the glass of wine and The Artist actually gave her a little clap of his hands before removing the impaler and untying her from the stool. He led her into the foyer. "I have to go out for awhile and get some supplies. So in the meantime..." His voice drifted off as he looked around for something. He found what he was looking for on the ground and told the girl to stand next to the staircase and raise her hands over her head. The man climbed the stairs and leaned over the railing and got to work binding Susan's wrists to the rail.

The Artist came back downstairs and picked up the object he had been looking for. It was a thick black gag that looked like a penis with a wooden board with hooks attached to it. He stuck the phallus into the girl's mouth and used the leather strap to tighten it around her neck. He walked over to a similar board next to the door and retrieved two sets of keys, a hat and an umbrella. The man pocketed one set of keys. The other set he hung on one of the hooks on the board attached to Susan's mouth. He did the same with the hat and the umbrella strap.

The man paused to admire his new storage rack and took a few photos. "Be back in an hour or so", he said. "I expect my objects to be right where I left them." Susan knew she was referring to her as well.

The Artist returned two hours later. Susan's arms were sore, but not as sore as her jaw from holding the gag in her mouth with the umbrella, hat and keys hanging from it. She was happy the man immediately moved the objects back to the rack by the door and released her. She stretched her arms and asked politely if she could have a glass of water. The Artist smiled and told her to go to the kitchen and grab a soda and a snack if she liked and then come back to the dining room while he prepared the rest of his installation.

Susan grabbed a diet soda from the refrigerator and some sliced cheese from the deli tray and took a little more time than was necessary to eat and drink before returning to the dining room. If The Artist was displeased, he did not show it. He asked her to climb on top of the large wooden table and she did as she was told. He placed a wine glass on her chest between her breasts and filled it almost to the rim. Susan knew the drill. If any of the wine spilled, she would be whipped again. So she took as shallow breaths as she could, lengthening each breath to control any movement of her chest. The Artist was smiling broadly. "You really are a fantastic model," he said. Susan couldn't help but be pleased, even given the circumstances.

The man removed the wine glass and had the kneel on the table. He tied her hands behind her back and then weaved a white ribbon through her hair, tying it into a pony tail and then pulling down harshly on it and tying the ribbon to her hands. Susan now had to stare at the ceiling to avoid pulling on her scalp. The man went and grabbed the pair of candlesticks and placed them on Susan's thighs and lit them. Then for good measure, he retrieved an apple from the kitchen and told Susan to open her mouth. He placed the apple between her teeth and she bit down on it, knowing if she dropped it, she would be punished. The Artist moved around the table, taking photos and encouraging the young woman to remain as still as possible.

Pleased with his photos, the man removed the candles and untied her pony tail from her wrists. He had her bend over, the apple still in her mouth, so her head was on the table. He placed one of the candlesticks on her back and pulled her wrists and ankles together in a tight hogtie. She was now both a centerpiece as well as the vision of a trussed pig. The Artist left to go into the kitchen and told Susan to remain as she was. She tried to stay as still as possible, not wanting to tip over the candlesticks.

The man headed to the kitchen and she heard some beeping noises. He returned with another bottle of wine and two glasses and a short set of metal chains. He untied Susan and told her to get on her hands and knees. The Artist placed a set of clover clamps onto the girl's nipples and attached both ends of each chain to the clamps. The chains were uncomfortable but not overly heavy. That is, until the man slid the wine bottle between the loops of the chains. Susan's nipples were now uncomfortably stretched. The Artist placed a wine glass near the rim of the bottle and grabbed Susan's hair. Pulling her towards him, she leaned to the right and the bottle tipped, pouring wine into his glass. He filled both glasses and left her there to suffer as he returned to the kitchen. Eventually she heard a kitchen timer go off.

The man removed the wine bottle and told Susan to once again sit on her knees. Once she was in that position, the man pressed against her chest and bent her backwards until her butt and back were on the table. He pulled her arms down and tied each of her wrists to one of her ankles, pinning her in this uncomfortable bent position, her feet now alongside her stomach. He headed back to the kitchen and returned with a large wooden paddle with a pizza on top of it. He slid the paddle against Susan's stomach and the pizza slid off the tray onto her belly.

"Lunch time," he said, as he sat down at the table with a plastic pizza cutter in his hand. Susan could feel the plastic roll across her bare skin as he cut through the pizza and pulled off a slice. The food was hot and was burning her stomach a little. It also smelled really good. The man ate his slice of pizza slowly and sipped his wine, oblivious to the naked girl in front of him. Then he sliced himself a second slice and finished his wine.

The girl decided to try her luck. "Sir, I am a little hungry. May I have a slice of pizza?"

The Artist smiled. "Of course, my dear." He ran the plastic roller across her belly again to cut off a large slice of the cheese pizza. He approached her and tipped it towards her mouth. Susan took a bite. It was hard to eat lying down like this, so she chewed carefully so she did not choke, The man was patient, serving her small bites of the pizza until it was gone, and then offering her a second slice. Susan spent the rest of the afternoon tied in this awkward position. Her shoulders felt as if they were being pulled out of their sockets and she arched her back as much as she could to relieve the pain.

As it turned towards dark, The Artist came and untied the girl and Susan was led again into the living room. A small fire was already burning in the fireplace, taking the chill out of the March evening. The Artist told Susan to sit on the tile near the fireplace and she did, enjoying the warmth of the flames on her naked body. He positioned her knees together and then placed her forearms on top of them, tying her wrists together around her knees. He reached over onto the rack holding his firewood and grabbed four large logs and placed them on the girl's forearms. He stepped back to admire his new creation and to take more photos.

After a while, the man untied the girl and had her stand up. The Artist tied her hands behind her back again and pulled out the silver serving tray. He placed it just her breasts and tightened the straps behind her back so when he was done, her bare tits were sitting on the tray as if they were being served as food. He placed his drink on the tray and led her over next to the couch. The man pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from a drawer. She hadn't seen him smoke so far this week, so this surprised Susan. Then the man pulled out an ashtray that had a handle on it that ended in a knob. This knob was soon inside Susan's mouth. The man lit his cigarette and flicked a small bit of ash into the ashtray in Susan's mouth. She couldn't stand the smell of smoke so she tried to breath as little as possible. The Artist pulled out his tablet and began flipping through the day's photos, stopping from time to time, to reach up and flick more ash into the ashtray.

Two cigarettes later, the man untied Susan and led her to his bedroom. Susan imagined he would have sex with her again but was surprised he did not. Instead, the man picked her up and sat her on the nightstand next to his king-sized bed. He tied her hands tightly behind her back and then bent her legs so she was sitting cross-legged. He tied her ankles together to prevent her from moving them. Reaching down on the floor, he picked up an old looking clock radio and sat it on her lap. "Busy day tomorrow," he said. "Wouldn't want to get up late." The man changed into pajamas and climbed into bed and pulled the sheets over him. Susan sighed and prepared for another sleepless night.