Susan Mitchell was awoken on Friday morning by her friend Brittany, who had been assigned as her key holder by West Valley High's headmaster. This was a significant improvement in Susan's lot since the few days she was confined to the boys' dormitory, although her room in the girls' residence was little more than a small storage closet.
Brittany unlocked the padlock around Susan's neck and the girl stretched out on the thin mattress in her tiny room. Brittany's hand lingered on Susan's neck for a minute, fingering the steel collar welded permanently to the cheerleader's neck and then her hand traced a line down to Susan's breasts. "I wonder if I asked the nurse if I could get a pair of those," the girl asked, flicking the steel bar bell piercing Susan's left nipple.
"Probably," Susan replied. "But you might end up with the whole ensemble". Susan was referring to the metal cuffs welded not just around her neck, but also her wrists and ankles, as well as the steel rings placed through her newly-pierced labia.
Brittany looked at her friend and said, "So what would happen if someone decided to put this padlock on those rings down there?"
"Someone might get herself kicked in the face," came Susan's reply.
Brittany smiled at her friend. "Hmm, something to think about. Did you hear what happened to Kyle and Kevin?"
"No, what?"
"Krutz found out they were the two that attacked you the other night. They have to wear these ring things on their cocks that stop them from getting hard. They had to walk around naked in them yesterday. I don't think they'll be raping anyone else any time soon."
Susan gave a faint smile. So the headmaster was being honest with her about him having control over how she was being used.
" Anyway," Brittany said, "time to get going, sleepy-head. Krutz said he wanted you down in the art studio again today." Susan groaned. The last time she had been in the art studio, she had found her body being covered in paint before the class turned her into a plaster statue and left her outside the school's front entrance. She decided to skip the shower this morning, figuring she was likely going to need a long one that night.
Susan arrived in Mr. Kittler's classroom just before the first bell and her attention turned immediately to the long wooden bench in the center of the room. It was shaped like a 'Y' and Susan knews she would soon find herself strapped to it. Sure enough, the teacher had her lie down on the bench and attached the welded ring around her neck to the wood to keep her from moving her head. Her wrists were locked together undernearh the bench. Her legs were spread and each ankle securely locked down, leaving her bound and exposed to her classmates once again.
Kittler held an object up to the class. "Today, we are going to be exploring a different medium, wax. These are soy wax candles. They burn at a relatively low temperature, around 130 degrees. So they will be slightly uncomfortable, but not cause any permanent damage to our willing model," the teacher said, with a nod toward the bound girl. Susan wasn't too sure about the 'willing' comment, but was a little pleased with being called a 'model' instead of an 'object', 'subject' or 'victim'.
The teacher continued, "I have quite a few of these in a variety of colors and we're going to see what type of artwork you can create using these." The headmaster pulled a blindfold over the Susan's eyes, plunging her into darkness. He also placed a piece of duct tape over her mouth, silencing her. He tied her hair up into a pony tail and placed a swim cap over her head, thankfully sparing her from getting wax in her hair.