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Chair Pose
Like a horse out of the starting gate, Nagatoro dashed out of the classroom when the dismissal bell rang. In contrast to her plodding pace before her last modeling gig, she raced up the stairs grinning.
"Sup, Senpai?" she asked as she skidded into the art club room.
Senpai turned from his easel, brush in one hand, ink container in the other. "Um…"
"Ready to paint some pink?"
His face flushed. "Actually, your skin isn't really a pink color. It's got different hues and…"
Nagatoro unbuttoned her blouse.
"Hang on." Senpai rushed off to close, lock, and padlock the doors. He returned to find Nagatoro, wrapped in a sheet, seated in the model's chair, glaring at the ceiling.
Senpai put his hands in his pockets and looked up. "I wish this room had a skylight. This fluorescent lighting isn't the best."
"Skylights are great escape portals too."
"Huh?"
"Which reminds me…" She rose from the chair, walked to the sliding doors, and yanked on the padlocks.
"They're top quality."
"Are they tough enough to withstand a chainsaw assault?"
"I don't know. I've never tried that." He scratched his chin. "Though, if I were outside with a chainsaw, I'd probably focus on the wood."
"I suppose." Nagatoro shoved one of the doors with her shoulder, then glanced to the far side of the room. "Help me slide a couple of those bookshelves over here."
"I really don't think you need to worry. Then again, I'm not the one who's going to be tied up and naked in a few minutes." Senpai helped her slide two bookshelves in front of the doors, then asked, "Are you sure you want me to tie you?"
"Do you seriously think you'll be able to paint me for over an hour if I'm free?"
Senpai pushed his glasses up his nose. "I got the rope you asked me to get. And I've been practicing."
A wicked smile creased Nagatoro's face, and she placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, really? Who did your virgin self practice on?"
"Nobody! I practiced on some rolls of paper that were about as round as your ankles and wrists. Plus, I checked the Internet for tips. I'm getting pretty good."
"Oh, really?" Nagatoro turned her back to him and crossed her wrists. "Prove it."
Senpai lifted a coil of cotton rope from the table and expertly fastened Nagatoro's wrists together. "How's that?"
She twisted her arms and shoulders. "That's pretty good. I like how soft and snug it feels."
"It's not as coarse as the twine."
Nagatoro skipped to the chair, sat down, and extended her legs. "You don't want me running off, do you?"
"Um… no." Senpai wrapped a second coil of rope around her ankles. "Should I tie you to the chair?"
"If it'll make you feel safer."
Senpai knelt behind the chair and tied his model's wrists ropes to the chair back.
Nagatoro looked up and met his eyes with a smile. "Time to unwrap me."
Senpai nodded and clenched his fists. "All right." He extended his arms, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. Nagatoro remained still as he cautiously moved forward, grabbed the sheet near her shoulders, and tugged. Nagatoro lifted her bum, and he cleanly pulled the sheet away before scampering back to his easel.
Oh, boy. Her eyes bulged, her face flushed, and she held her breath. She felt like she'd dived into a cold pool. But soon her heart settled, her body relaxed, and a cheerful smile lit up her face.
As Senpai painted, Nagatoro tested her bonds. Snug, secure—She glanced at the bookshelves hiding the doors.—and safe. Although... the loop connecting her wrists to the chair back rotated when her fingers played with it.
She tilted her head and studied Senpai's intense concentration—in the zone, fully engaged, conveying his impression of his model. Her insides warmed. Still, she couldn't resist.
"Hey, Senpai." Nagatoro shifted her shoulders. "My left breast is really itchy. Can you help me out?"
He glanced at her chest, rubbed his chin, and blinked. "Deal with it."
Nagatoro laughed out loud. "So mean!"
Outside the windows, the silhouette of a helicopter blazing across the horizon caught her eye. Once again, she glanced at the bookshelves covering the doors, then up at the ceiling, and she smiled. She imagined hearing the doors lightly rattle now and then, but nothing was coming in.
Time passed quickly. When Senpai placed caps on some of his paint pods, signaling he'd finished using those colors, Nagatoro felt like only minutes had passed. A check of the wall clock revealed she'd sat for over an hour.
Senpai switched to touch-up mode. Using his fingers, tiny sponges, and brushes, he fixed the painting's shading and highlights, making it a balanced whole.
He felt something on his back—the gentle pressure of two mounds compressing on his shirt.
"That looks amazing, Senpai."
"WHAAA!" Senpai fell off his seat, arms flailing. He looked up from ground level at Nagatoro hovering over him, with her arms still pinned behind her back and her ankles tied. "How did you…?" He turned toward the chair. His connecting cord lay on it.
"I'd help you up, but…" She shrugged her shoulders. "You know."
He stumbled back, got to his feet, and adjusted his glasses.
Nagatoro straightened her posture. "Do you need me anymore?" She wiggled her hips.
His jaw dropped. "Um… not for this painting. But I still need to touch up a few things."
"All right." Nagatoro hopped to the sofa, plopped down, and laid on her side. "I'll wait."
As his model waited patiently on the couch—legs tucked, head resting on a pillow—Senpai added the finishing touches.
"You know what, Senpai? I still owe you a reward for that last painting you did."
"Not necessary."
"I've decided to give you another free tickle-pass, and this time I promise I won't punch you."
Senpai immediately recalled the bad-ass karate kick Nagatoro demonstrated the first day he met her. "Thanks, but I'll pass."
"You'll pass on the pass, huh? Okay. But I've got to give you something."
"Being able to paint you like this is a reward in itself."
"WHAA…" Nagatoro's eyes bulged and her face flushed.
As did Senpai's, and he turned away.
Moments later, she recovered with a sly smile. "You're so skeevy, Senpai! You won't even scratch a poor, helpless, naked girl's itch. You're horrible."
Senpai ignored the jibe. Five minutes later, he put down his brush. "All done." He stepped back, smiled proudly, then turned to Nagatoro. "Wanna see it?"
She raised her wrists and ankles. "Not like this, you pervert. Untie me."
"Okay. Sorry."
As Senpai approached, Nagatoro moved to a sitting position, got on her feet, turned her back, and raised her wrists.
Senpai took a deep breath and walked toward her. When he got within six feet, he extended his arms, closed his eyes, and eased forward, his hands forming claws in search of her upper arms. He sighed with relief when he grasped them.
Wait, these aren't arms.
"Senpai!" Nagatoro shrieked. "You pervert!"
His eyes snapped open, revealing his claws grasping breasts. He stood there for a moment in stunned shock as his hands involuntarily squeezed. He released the breasts and jumped back like he'd gotten an electric jolt.
Nagatoro appraised him with a familiar sly smile. "You know, Senpai, you really shouldn't take advantage of a girl like that."
"But…"
"But?" she mimicked. "But, I can see your point. I can't hit you when I'm like this. Sharp thinking."
"But I didn't mean to…"
Nagatoro turned, arched her back, and raised her wrists. "If you'd be so kind."
###
Nagatoro and Senpai walked home together under the starry night sky. Now modestly dressed in her school uniform, she carried a rolled up painting under her arm, while Senpai's phone memory stored another background image for his PC.
She turned to him. "You said the light was bad in there. Have you ever considered painting a model outside, in nature, since you're painting me au naturel and all?"
"I think that might be nice," Senpai replied. "If you'd be willing to do it. We'd need to find a place that's really secluded."
"I'm sure you'll work something out." She bumped her hip into his. "You know all about dragging me to secluded places."
"That one time happened because I remembered a good place to go see fireworks. And I didn't lay a finger on you."
"You didn't lay a finger on me that time." She thrust out her chest. "You pervert."
"That was an accident!" He lowered his voice. "That you caused."
She giggled. "If you say so."
Author's Notes: It's good to see more writers getting into the Nagatoro fandom, especially with the first season coming to an end. As for the future of this story, I have an interesting idea for a Sakura arc with her gaming club that I may write, but that's still a few chapters away. Thanks for your feedback, everyone! — SK