West Valley High Day 86: Christmas

It was Christmas Day, although to Susan Mitchell, it was just another day in a long string of days in her new life as an online sex slave. This week was Susan's final hope at leaving this new life as she prayed some student would report what was going on to their parents and she might be set free. But she didn't hold out much hope as hardly anyone had come to her rescue and the example headmaster Stephen Krutz had made of her friend Brittany for trying might be enough to keep the other students quiet. Given all of the secrets this school had maintained over the years, with alcohol and drug use rampant, massive parties and orgies, students, including Susan herself, trading sexual favors for good grades and jobs, Susan expected this secret would remained buried as well.

She also didn't know what good might come of being exposed. Krutz had set the whole thing up as if she had agreed to it all. He had her on camera consenting to being tied up and sexually abused. The money earned from the website was supposedly going to her to pay off her mom's debts. Yes, she could claim coercion and blackmail, but to what end. Besides, she still didn't know what type of life she would have after this. If she brought down West Valley, with all of its prominent alumni, she would never get that high-paying corporate job leading some foundation like she had always dreamed. She would be penniless and homeless. And all of the photos and videos would be on the internet, following her around for the rest of her life. She was sure Krutz had some fail-safe planned that would release everything if an investigation started.

The worst part, Susan thought, was how easily she had accepted all of this. The sex stuff, well, that she understood, since she had never had a problem using her body to get whatever she wanted. But the bondage and the torture had been new to her. She never knew she was into this kind of thing. Being naked was now her natural state and wearing what little clothing she had last week felt weird. She slept with the metal chain attached to her neck, or wrist or ankles, even though she was locked in a cage anyway. She liked the feeling of being shackled. She had even gotten used to the whipping and physical torture, although that was her least favorite part.

The headmaster had greeted her personally in her small cell in the senior girls' dorm, most of the other students gone for the Christmas break. He had sent her to the showers and then invited her to his office, where a large breakfast awaited her. She devoured the meal, having learned to eat whenever food was offered because her schedule was very erratic. The headmaster left to let her dine in piece and Susan thought again about how this was now 'normal' to her, if that word meant anything.

Krutz returned just as she was finishing eating, carrying with him a grinding tool. He had Susan sit straddling a wooden chair and had her lean her head over the back. The girl panicked seeing the grinder but obliged. The headmaster slid a leather hood over her head, completely covering her face and hair, with small holes to breathe through. He slid a piece of metal between Susan's collar and her neck and then turned the grinder on and pressed it against the collar. The girl felt the pressure against her neck and realized the headmaster was cutting the collar loose from her! Was he freeing her?

The collar had been welded with two small spot welds, enough to hold it in place for the type of bondage Susan had subjected to. Susan felt cold water on her back as the headmaster poured water against the metal to keep it cool as he worked his way through the welds. Eventually she heard a pop and felt the collar snap loose. Krutz pulled it away with a gloved hand and tossed it in a nearby trash can.

He spun Susan around and removed the mask and then had her set her left wrist on the table, on top of a thick metal bar. He changed the grinder stone and began cutting the cuff from her wrist. He did the same with her other wrist and then her ankles. When he was done, Susan ran her fingers along her neck, feeling her skin where the collar had been for months.

"Thank you," she said, not really knowing what else to say.

"Well, it is Christmas," the headmaster replied. "But let's not get too far ahead of ourselves." Susan looked up at him, wondering if something worse was coming.

Krutz opened a large box and lying there on a velvet pad were Susan's newest accessories. "I've had these custom-made for you. They are made of stainless steel and titanium and are a bit more stylish than your previous accessories." Susan agreed with this as these were rounded, polished steel, no more than a half-inch in diameter, unlike the thick clunky cuffs she has worn so far. The headmaster pulled out the collar and opened it. It was hinged on one end and he placed it around her neck and she felt him snap it together and tighten the screw that held it on. "The screw is a special design known as a 'one-way' screw," he said. "Once it is in place, there is no way to remove it, except by drilling it out."

Susan sighed, realizing her freedom had lasted only a few minutes, but she was pleased with her new collar. It felt very lightweight, unlike the previous one, and did not have the multiple O-rings hanging from it that made her feel like a prisoner. She watched as Krutz added the new bracelets to her wrists and ankles. These were thicker than the one around her neck, less circular and more oval, and she realized they would still make for good binding attachment points, although she doubted they would support her weight if the headmaster decided to hang her by her arms from the ceiling again. She admired the polished steel, turning her wrists over and back.

Krutz approached her with another small box. He opened it and showed her the heart-shaped pendant with her name engraved on it in small jewels. The pendant had a loop attached to it that slid easily over her new collar and Krutz used it to attach the pendant to the her neck. Susan realized she was now wearing an ID tag like a pet and she closed her eyes to try not to cry.

"Well, let's get on with it," Krutz said, and grabbed the girl's wrist. Susan rose and followed him out of the room. In the school's atrium was a large, empty wooden spool, like they use for stringing power lines, although this one had a bigger inner spool. The headmaster directed Susan to lie face down on the tile floor in front of the reel. He used rope to tie her ankles together and then tied the rope to the spool itself, pulling her legs against it firmly. He tied her wrists together with more rope and pulled the rope behind her over the spool. He started tugging on the rope and Susan felt herself being bent backwards, her bare butt and back pressing against the inner circle of the spool until she was pulled tightly against it in an uncomfortable hogtie, her wrists tied back to her ankles with her body wrapped around the wood. The headmaster inserted a ball gag into her mouth to silence her. The gag again had a hole in it and he pushed a rigid straw through it and Susan knew she would soon have to breathe through it.

Next came a thick sheet of black plastic wrap. Krutz stapled the end of the long sheet of plastic above her head and pulled it tightly against the spool, stapling it down as he went. He made a small cut so the tube protruded through the plastic and he continued stapling, stretching the plastic as he went to keep it taut. He rolled the wheel as he went, until Susan was hidden beneath the black wrap.

The headmaster began rolling the spool towards the front doors of the school, Susan spinning along with the wood. He rolled it through the doors and up a ramp on the back of a truck parked in the driveway, maneuvering it between six steel drums already loaded on the back of the large lorry. Chains were used to fasten the top and bottom of the spool to the truck so it would not move and soon it was being driven away.

Susan felt like they drove for hours. Despite the thick black cladding, the cold air was still chilling her naked body and she wondered where she would go. The truck eventually pulled to a stop at a small airstrip. Workers unloaded the five metal drums onto an awaiting airplane which took off just as Susan began the next leg of her journey secured in the wooden spool.

Brittany Daniels awoke a few hours later just as two men were removing the lid from the metal drum she had been shoved into hours ago. Her muscles cramped and she was dehydrated and she collapsed onto the deck of the luxury yacht after the two men had pulled her out of the barrel by her legs. A man stood in front of her and he motioned for his associates to stand her up. They grabbed her by both arms and pulled her to her feet, stretching her arms wide to give the man a full view of her naked body.

"Brittany Anne Daniels," he said. "Age 22, senior at West Valley school for sluts. Currently captain of the cheerleading team."

"Who are you," she croaked. "Where I am I?'

"My name is Marcus Torres, and you are on board one of my yachts, 'Mi pequeña Susan', named after my step-daughter, who I believe is a close friend of yours," the man said.

"Susan?" Brittany replied. "That's impossible. She told me her stepfather was dead."

Marcus replied, "To her, that is true. And I would like to keep it that way."

"What do you want," Brittany said.

"A couple of things. First, you will cease any thoughts of reporting your headmaster to your parents, the authorities or anyone at all. Second, if you are questioned in any way about Susan's activities this year, you and your friends will explain that Susan learned her mother was having financial difficulties and came up with the idea of being a cam girl as a way to make money. Further, she told you she had incriminating information against the headmaster and was blackmailing him into helping her with her website. She even blackmailed you into performing with her."

"Well, that's never going to happen," Brittany said, "so you might as well kill me now."

"I figured you would say that," Torres replied, and nodded towards another pair of henchmen. They moved to one of the other barrels and pried off the lid. Brittany watched as her fellow cheerleader, Kylie, was pulled from the barrel and laid down on the ship's deck. Torres caught Brittany's eye and motioned at the four remaining barrels. "Jamie, Chloe, Sarah and Jennifer, if I am not mistaken. As you probably know, there is limited air inside those barrels. The small hole in the bottom near their mouths will keep them alive for now, provided it remains uncovered."

The two men tied ropes around Kylie's wrists and ankles and spreadeagled the naked woman to the deck of the boat. They opened two bottles and poured something over the girl's nude body. "Did you know it is possible to be sunburned to death?" Torres asked Brittany. "It's a combination of extreme dehydration along with the pain of the blisters. I wonder how many hours Kylie can lie there on the deck with cooking oil basted on her body before she dies?"

"You bastard," Brittany spat out as she struggled to break free from the two men holding her arms. "You won't get away with this. Our parents will come looking for us."

"Your parents believe you are on a one-week yacht excursion with a friend," Torres said. "Not a lie, in fact. Speaking of lye, however, that is how the bodies of you and your friends will be dissolved, once we shove you and Kylie back in your drums. But first..." Torres nodded to the two men and they approached the remaining drums with wooden plugs, which they shoved into the holes in the bottom of the barrels. "Your friends will suffocate. We wouldn't want them alive as their bodies are dissolved. They should last about a half-hour in those barrels."

"You," he continued, "will suffer a much worse fate. You think you know what torture is? What Krutz is doing to Susan is child's play as compared to what will happen to you."

Kylie was struggling against the ropes binding her, her body already heating in the hot sun reflected off the wooden deck. Brittany looked at the barrels and back at her friend. "Ok, we will do what you want."

Torres smiled and ordered his men to release Kylie and open the remaining barrels. All six naked girls were seated on the deck of the boat while he explained to all of them what he expected of them. The boat turned towards shore and Torres and his men turned to disembark. "The boat is yours for the rest of the week. My captain Julio and his assistants will take care of your every need. There is a fully stocked bar and some nice beaches not to far away. A jet will come to pick you up on Sunday to return you to school. Enjoy your week, ladies. Oh, and don't even think of double-crossing me. What you saw here is just a fraction of what I can do."

With that, the cartel leader and his henchmen left the boat. Brittany stood and walked towards the enclosed cabin. "I could use a drink," she said. "What about the rest of you?" The other girls rose and followed her, not sure of what they had gotten themselves in to, but happy to be still alive.

Susan Mitchell awoke in the dark in a dank basement. She had been removed from the wooden spool and carried in by two people but in the dark, she had no idea where she was or who was here or even how long she had been asleep. She sat up and felt the steel chain looped around her neck and fastened with a padlock. A small television came to life as she sat up. On the screen were six girls she knew well, all fellow members of the West Valley cheerleading team. They were sitting topless, sunning themselves on the deck of a large boat, each with a drink in her hand. Susan heard the voice of her headmaster over the picture. "It seems like your friends are having a good time, Miss Mitchell. I think we will have a good time here as well." Susan started crying, knowing her last hope of being saved was gone.