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Author's Notes: Trigger warning. There's no sex or anything in this chapter, but things might get just a tiny bit too get intense for the extremely faint of heart. If you're hyper-sensitive, don't read. — SK

Another Painting

When the dismissal bell rang, Nagatoro's heart raced as if someone had flipped a switch. She strolled out of the classroom, collected her stuff in her backpack, and headed toward the stairwell.

She scaled the steps one by one, slowly, deliberately. As the next floor approached, her heart beat like a bongo drum in her chest. She stopped on the second floor landing and took a deep breath.

You can do this.

She replayed the mental video of herself running naked in the rain, splashing and laughing, with Senpai following close behind. She smiled as she recalled his expression when she asked him to return her clothes.

You can do this.

She trotted up the steps to the third floor, paused on the landing, and gripped the handrail. For a girl in excellent physical shape, she breathed far too hard in response to such a meager workout.

She closed her eyes and replayed the previous night's memory of her racing Senpai from one end of the pool to the other. He wore blue swim trunks. She wore only a smile, which widened when she splashed him after beating him by half a pool length.

You can do this.

She stepped from the landing into the hallway, jogged down to the art club room, slid the door open, and hopped inside. The door rattled more than usual. She paused and looked around. The smell of fresh paint tweaked her nose. She walked toward the easel. Senpai's paintbrush sat clean and ready, next to several open paint containers.

She glanced at the sofa. The blanket Senpai had gotten to keep her warm lay neatly folded on the center cushion. Pillows sat up against each arm rest. She glanced at the sheet of paper tacked to the easel, still perfectly white, and imagined the image that might grace it in an hour.

No, I can't do this.

She dashed toward the door, but as she approached the opening, Senpai walked in, blocking her escape.

His eyes widened. "Hello."

"Where did you take off to, Senpai? You're not chickening out, are you?"

"No, I…" He showed her the screwdriver. "I needed one more screw for the latch."

"The latch for what?"

Nagatoro studied the doors. Senpai had fastened two metal latches to them, one on each side of the sliding set. A padlock dangled from each. "Those rotating locks can be flimsy. Sometimes they break when you shake the door really hard."

An evil smile formed on her face. "Are you planning to lock me in here and keep me as your prisoner?"

"No!" He stepped back, his face reddening. "No. I'm making extra sure nobody can get in."

A wave of relief washed over her, even though she hadn't considered the possibility of someone breaking in.

"Why so much security for one high school girl?"

"Because you're going to be, um…"

She hopped onto the couch, pressed down her skirt, and crossed her legs. "I understand."

He slid the doors shut, closed the latches, and padlocked them before taking his place behind the easel.

"Are you ready for me?" Nagatoro asked.

Senpai stared, but didn't move.

She unbuttoned her blouse, revealing the red bra underneath, and let the garment slide off her shoulders.

Senpai turned away. "No, I can't do this."

Nagatoro considered replying, "Okay," and bolting out of the room, but decided against it. "Why? You've seen me naked lots of times."

"Just three."

"Four," Nagatoro corrected.

"But the first time you were in the bath and all I saw were your breasts and they were really, really small…"

"What?" Her blood boiled and her face turned red.

"No, I don't mean your breasts are small. It was a tiny picture, video over the phone. In real life, your breasts are absolutely perfect."

Her face morphed from red with rage to red from embarrassment. Absolutely perfect? She pulled her blouse back over her shoulders and held it closed. It took her a moment to process the compliment.

Once again, she stifled her inclination to run away as fast as she could and stayed put. She rubbed the sofa cushions upon which she'd pose, likely for over an hour.

Posing differed from hanging out. Normally, she was free to run away or duck under the water each time a twinge of discomfort arose.

Soon she'd be lying on the sofa, totally exposed, in full view of Senpai's probing eyes, for over an hour. The first time he painted her without her clothes on, she'd been unconscious thanks to the aid of some very tasty "courage juice."

She hadn't drunk any punch today, and there was no way she'd be able to fall asleep—or even pretend.

"This is different," Senpai said. "Last time, you were sleeping."

"Are you afraid I'm going to bite?"

"No, I know you won't do that. Well, probably."

She often made his eyes twitch by simply staring at him while fully clothed. This was a hundred times worse. "I understand. You need me to be less threatening. I have an idea." She explored the club room, checking shelves and fumbling through some drawers.

"What are you looking for?" Senpai asked.

Nagatoro ignored him as she searched through the closets. She picked up a ball of twine. "What's this for?"

"We use that to fasten rolls of paper and hang pictures."

She tossed him the ball. "Turn around." When he complied, she removed her bra, skirt, socks, shoes, and panties and placed them in a neat pile at the foot of the sofa, just like last time. Then she wrapped the blanket around her body and struck the pose he wanted her to paint—lying on her belly with her ankles over her bum.

"Okay, you can look."

Senpai turned. At first he relaxed upon seeing her covered, but then a frown scrunched his face.

"Don't worry, Senpai. We're not done yet. Come here." When Senpai arrived at her side, she put her arms behind her back and touched her wrists together at the pulse points.

Senpai glanced at the ball of twine in his hand. "What do you want me to do?"

"Wrap the twine around my wrists, dummy."

His jaw dropped. "Are you sure?"

"Just do it."

Senpai gently wrapped the twine around Nagatoro's wrists in a figure-8 about twenty times before cinching it at the center.

She wiggled her toes. "Now do my ankles."

"What?"

Nagatoro groaned.

Senpai applied the same figure-8 binding to her ankles.

"Now tie the two together."

Senpai didn't hesitate this time. Moments later, a braided strand made of twine connected Nagatoro's bound wrists to her bound ankles.

"Now pull the blanket off and paint me."

Senpai eased his hands toward the blanket, then pulled them back, then moved them closer again.

"We don't have all day, Senpai, and it's not like you'll be seeing anything new."

Senpai opened the blanket, leaving Nagatoro laying atop it naked with her head propped up on the pillow. He walked back to the easel and picked up his paintbrush. "Are you okay?"

She shrugged, shifted her shoulders, and tugged at her bindings. "This is fine. I've never been tied up before." She rested her chin on the pillow. "It's not so bad." She glanced up. "Are you okay?" She grinned. "Now that you know I'm not going to bite you?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Aww, man." Nagatoro shifted her hips and shoulders. "Senpai, I need your help. I just got a really bad itch between my shoulder blades."

"Do you want me to…?"

She touched her elbows together, but it didn't help. "Hurry up. It's driving me crazy."

Senpai set down his brush, rushed to the sofa, and scratched Nagatoro's back.

"Is that better?"

"A little lower. Ahh, perfect."

He lifted his hand. "Is there anywhere else I should scratch?"

"No. You pervert."

Senpai returned to his easel. For the next hour, he painted the naked beauty laying belly-down on the sofa. Once or twice, Nagatoro needed itches scratched on her legs or shoulders. Several other itches, she endured.

Despite being tied up, Nagatoro felt supremely comfortable. Knowing the doors were securely padlocked helped. She couldn't wait to see Senpai's creation.

"Hey Senpai, don't you ever get tempted?"

"Tempted to do what?"

"You've got a cute naked girl, tied up and helpless. If you tickled me, there's nothing I could do to stop you."

"I'm not tempted."

"Really?"

"If I touched you inappropriately, I'm afraid you'd never let me paint you like this again."

"Like this? Do you mean tied up, or naked?"

"I like both."

Nagatoro tugged on the twine and suppressed a smile. She thought, I do too, but knew she could never say that out loud. "Since I never gave you a reward for your last painting, I'm giving you one free tickle-pass that you can use whenever you want." She wiggled her bum.

Senpai's eyes widened, and his face turned red.

Nagatoro laughed. "You're so funny."

As Senpai continued painting, Nagatoro continued to relax. Knowing she couldn't run anywhere was strangely cathartic. It seemed to help Senpai too.

"Are you getting close to finishing?" Nagatoro asked.

"Are you getting uncomfortable?"

Nagatoro rolled her shoulders and shifted her hips. "No, I'm fine."

"I'm almost done. Can you reach back and grab your feet?" When Nagatoro shot him a confused look, he added, "I'm making it look like you're grabbing your feet, not like you're tied up. I'm not painting the twine."

"Okay." Nagatoro arched her back, grabbed her feet, and rolled back and forth on her belly like a rocking chair, lifting her breasts off the sofa cushions and compressing them again. "How's this?"

Senpai's jaw dropped and he blinked a few times before he collected himself. "Please stop that."

"Okay." Nagatoro settled down.

Ten minutes later, Senpai set down his brush, picked up a pair of scissors, and walked to the couch.

Nagatoro frowned. "All done already?"

"Uh-huh."

She shifted her hips, turned her back to him while pressing her nose into the crease of the couch, and extended her wrists toward his scissors.

Two hands grabbed her waist. Nagatoro yelped. He's tickling me and I can't stop him! She screamed, bucked, and twisted as he continued his onslaught. "No. Stop. Please. Noooooooo." She laughed so hard tears streamed from her eyes.

Senpai maintained his onslaught for about a minute, matching the length of time that she had once tickled him. When he stopped. Nagatoro breathed heavily into the back cushion. She continued breathing deeply until he cut away the twine.

Once free, she turned, rose, and socked Senpai in the jaw. "I can't believe you did that."

Senpai stumbled back and rubbed his face. "But… you gave me a free tickle pass as my reward, remember?"

Nagatoro hopped up and down. "I wasn't serious!"

He looked down at the ground. "Oh… I'm sorry."

"You knew I wasn't serious. When am I ever serious about that kind of stuff?" She balled her hands into fists.

Suddenly, Nagatoro realized she was still completely naked—and standing across from the only person in the world with whom she felt completely comfortable that way. She shook her head, and a smile crept onto her face. "I admit. That was pretty good, and maybe, just maybe, partly my fault." She held out her arms. "But look what you did to my wrists." She raised her foot. "And my ankles."

Senpai examined the bruises. "I'm really sorry."

She plopped down on the couch. "It's not that bad. I'm going to have to miss the next few swim club meetings. And I can wear sneakers and socks for a couple days along with a bracelet and a watch." She looked up. "Next time warm me when you're going to try something like that."

"So you can tell me not to do it?"

"I suppose."

Nagatoro pulled on her panties.

###

Later that evening, she skipped home with another beautiful painting tucked under her arm, this one professionally wrapped in twine.