The Artist

Prologue

I sat staring out the window of the attic studio that had been my home and office for the past five years, wondering what my next project would be. The last painting for Lady Bremerton was finished, and was sitting on the easel awaiting her chauffeur to collect it, so now I was free to pursue something entirely different. The knock on the door signaled the final end of the year long endeavor to create scenes appropriate to the décor of Bremerton Hall. “Hello Benson, the painting is over there.”

“Good day Mr Fletcher. Here's the final Payment.” Mrs Bremerton's check was a welcome sight.

“Thank you, Benson. This will be the last time we shall meet, so I'll bid you a fond farewell.” I closed the door behind the uniformed driver, looked down at the piece of paper, that was almost as good as a winning lottery ticket, and danced around the elongated room. “I need to get out to celebrate.”

It was a bright sunny day with white fluffy clouds climbing high into the azure blue sky, when I entered the quaint cafe. “Good afternoon, Mabel.” Bending over the counter, I gave the perky lass kiss on the cheek. “What's your special of the day?”

“You seem awful chipper today.” She smiled, poured my usual latte, and yelled out my order to the young lad in the kitchen. “What's the occasion?”

“I've been paid. I'm rich.” It was a nice feeling to be free from under the deadline. “How about a movie tonight?” The words no sooner left my lips, when a fine looking lady passed by the cafe, heading up the hill towards the chapel. “Wow, who's that?”

“She's a writer.” Mabel informed me. “ Doing  Research for her next mystery novel.”

A brilliant idea struck me, while watching the woman stride up the slight hill. “I've never tried comic art.” She reminds me of the old super heroine comic books I read as a kid. “Look at that long wavy auburn hair. The Auburn Goddess. That would be the name.” My mind raced to write the adventure in my head. There would be perils, where the heroine would face death. How about knock outs? “I need a model. It's been a while since I drew the female figure.”

“Mr Fletcher, here's your lunch.” Mabel noticed me ogling the very attractive woman, who was just entering the Chapel. “Guess the movie's off, huh?” She turned curtly and swished her cute little hips back and forth with purpose.

“I'll need a new studio. One that's in a remote location, with enough room to set up the peril scenes.” My lunch got cold, as I perused the rentals in the paper. “That's perfect.” It was an ad for the old Williams place way out in the glen. After depositing the check, I drove along the two lane country road, winding through the green hills doted with flocks of sheep, until reaching the three buildings with thatched roofs. One was a large two story gabled house, the second was a barn like structure, and the third was a small storage shed half under ground. “This will be perfect.”

Part One

It was one of those sudden cooling summer showers that didn't even darken the sky, but it did cause me to race across the yard to the stone building with the grass thatched roof. “Where's that key.” While fumbling around in my pockets the downpour soaked me through and through. “Finally.” The key turned in the rusted lock and the door creaked open, to reveal several rooms filled with dust and cobwebs. Even though it had a dirt floor, the inside was not damp at all. “This will do fine for the home base.” I made a list of the needed renovations before leaving.

Back at my favorite Cafe, since it was the only Cafe, Mabel told me that the writer had finished her research and was leaving in the morning. “The bus to London will be here at nine tomorrow.” She winked. “Movie Friday night?”

“Sorry, but I've started a new project.” Tonight was sooner than I had expected, but I'll just have to improvise. The day went by fast, spending it cleaning, and preparing for my guest heroine. Finally I scanned the area for possible problems, then finding no obvious ones, I returned to the village.

It was nearly dusk, when my little green van stopped alongside the hostel “I surely hope she hasn't gone to bed yet.” During the past week, I had observed a definite routine taken by the writer in her quest for atmosphere as well as details for her latest creative work, so I was fairly confident she would appear shortly. “Aha, there she is.” My eyes spotted the auburn hair glowing in the sunset, as she paced alongside the little creek, then climbed the rise of the stone bridge that spanned the racing water beneath. She seemed innocent with the flowing long skirt moving rhythmically with every lively step, but at the same time she appeared stern as if hiding an unseen strength behind that innocence. It was time to get ready for the point of no return. I poured the liquid into the white pad, which readily absorbed every drop.

“Goodnight, Mrs Farmer.” She greeted the old woman, who peddled flowers on the corner, and then turned towards the hostel, where the room awaited her last night in this quaint little village.

It would be the last night, but not the way she thought. “Hello, I don't think we've met.” I approached, then to her utter surprise, I spun her around, grabbing her waist, and then thrusting the pad against her face. The next crucial step in the plan was to drag the woman into the darkness around the side of the building, next to the parked van. She kicked wildly as I managed to accomplish that phase.

It was strange to observe the different stages that my victim went through. First there was the shock and surprise, where her eyes were so wide they could have popped right out. Along with the muffled scream, it only lasted for a moment. Then came the anger. Her forehead wrinkled, as her eyes took on the look of determination. She made an attempt at ripping the cloth away from her face, while she cursed at me into the cloth. The next stage was denial. She was confused, dazed, and weakened by the chloroform. Her mind told her that this was not real, it was not happening, so she relaxed, thinking it was all just a dream. Even though the woman still had strength, there were no more struggle. There was a pause, while she tried to figure out what was happening, until the final stage appeared, which was acceptance.

That stage was the most exciting for me. I could see the signs of resignation, as her hands released their grip on my arm, her eyes fluttered, with the pupils rolling back to where there was only the white showing. A soft sigh into the cloth, and her body sinking, like it was merging into mine. I lifted the yielding body into my arms to then place her into the side of the small vehicle. “I've done it.”

The drive back to the rental was quite uneventful, since my subject was still sleeping soundly when we arrived. “You are a bit heavy.” I thought, while carrying the lady into the storage building, and then lying her onto the bed. Since there were no windows, and I had installed a rather thick door with a large lock, I saw no need to tie up my damsel. “Should I begin immediately? No.” I decided, leaving the beautiful lady sleeping peacefully, until morning.


Part Two

I carried the tray from the big house to the storage shed, where the woman was now pounding on the rough hewn door. “Quiet, and I'll unlock the door.” There was a pause, while she thought about it.

“Why am I here?” Her voice seemed a little raspy. I placed the tray on the small table, before opening the door. She stood motionless in the doorway for only a moment, and then she bolted for the exit, racing barefoot across the dirt floor.

“That will do you no good.” I smiled, pointing to the tray. “I brought you breakfast. You must be hungry, or at the very least, thirsty.”

“Why are yo doing this?” Her hand reached for the tray, tossing it, along with the contents across the room. “Let me out of here.”

“Now that wasn't very nice.” I remarked, bending over to clean up the mess. “I need to go into the village, so you'll be here alone for a while.”

I noticed her mind racing into overdrive, thinking about the possibility of escape while I was gone. “Are you going to explain to me why I am here.” She moved cautiously around the room, keeping a wary eye on me at all times, and when I turned my back, she charged, leaping onto my back.

“HEY WHA?” We both rolled onto the floor, scrambling for an advantage. “You shouldn't have done that.” I finally managed to recover, and stood staring down at my super heroine. “I plan to immortalize you in the minds and hearts of kids all over.” I boasted, pointing to the easel in the corner.

“What's this?” She flipped the sheets of paper one by one. “These are really good.” It was a sight I had hoped for, when the compressed air sound made the woman look up to see me standing with a gun in my hand. Her expression of surprise and wonderment was priceless, as the dart struck her in the breast. “Ouch, what have you done?”

“Where's my pad? I need my pad.” I grabbed a pencil to capture the event. This was the reason I kidnapped her.

“No, you can't.” Her voice trailed off, while she staggered around the room with an arm out stretched. “Why?” It was hard to capture the puzzled expression. However, I was able to show her groping through the haze and confusion caused by the drug.

“This is simply great. I need her to be in a costume, though.” My next sketch showed her arms reaching outward, and her knees buckling. “ There's no sound, her mouth moved as if saying something, but no sounds came out. “I'll have to write in the grunts and groans.” Hesitating for just seconds, she slowly sat back on her legs, before falling sideways to the floor. “Oh this is precious.” My final drawing displayed the woman sprawled out, lying very still. Placing my finished sketches on the table, I lifted the helpless writer off the floor, to return her to the bed.

There was a slight feeling of embarrassment as I unbuttoned her blouse. “She is well endowed.” I thought to myself, while removing the tiny projectile. Her hour glass shape had been hidden by the clothes, so I was certainly not disappointed in removing the full flared mid length skirt. “Gee, even her legs are nicely shaped. She could've been a model instead of a writer.” I decided to put the costume over her pantyhose, so they weren't removed. When I finished, the auburn haired princess was every bit the super heroine I envisioned the first time I saw this woman walking up the hill. Perhaps she'll enjoy lunch more than she did breakfast.” I left the sexy figure lying on the bed attired in a skimpy costume, while I prepared to make her stay a little more comfortable.

“LET ME OUT OF HERE. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY CLOTHES.” She was pounding on the door, when I returned.

“I'll open the door, only when you settle down and become civil.” After a long silence, I unlocked the door, then stepped back. Slowly the door swung open, and there stood my creation. A tall stern looking female with fire in her emerald green eyes, with hands on hips threatened to tear me limb from limb. “This I have to draw.”

“What is this all about?” She shook her fist at me, and then pointed to the costume. “Who put this ridiculous thing on me?”

I was much too busy with my pencil to answer her questions. It was not a ridiculous outfit, but extremely sexy. Two wide straps came over her shoulders to cover her substantial breast mounds as they continued along her shapely slender waist, until meeting at the crotch. The straps went up the back in the same manner. Thin black laces crossed back and forth between them in the front, while a single wide belt connected them behind. “You look fantastic.”

“You'll have to get someone else to model for those stupid drawings.” She ripped the pad from my hands.

“You shouldn't have done that.” Leaping to my feet, I grabbed the pad back to lay it on the table. She obviously saw the anger in my face, because she ran towards the front door. I reached for the bottle and rag, to get ready for the attack, which was meant to recreate the villain Demonic capturing the Auburn Goddess. It would be sooner than I had planned, but perhaps I might improvise.

“She was frantically pulling and twisting the doorknob, while pounding with her other hand. “HELP. SOMEONE PLEASE HEMMLLPPHH.” As soon as the cloth covered her mouth, she let go of the knob to grab for my arm. “NNOMMPPHH..DONMMMM!” With her head twisting violently from side to side, it was difficult to keep the rag in place. This time there was no surprise stage, but it was replaced by sheer defiance. There was a determination to get free. Her legs stomped with purpose instead of wildly thrashing in the air as depicted by some pictures of women being chloroformed. This experience was terrific, and I wondered if I could capture it on paper.

Unfortunately, I was not concentrating on the job at hand, and she managed to get loose, spun around, gasping for air, and fell to one knee. “You're doing just fine.” I said, as she waved her arms in an attempt to keep me away. By now she was seeing double, and her muscles were becoming uncoordinated.

“Don doo thisss” It was easy for me to brush her hands aside to push the rag over her mouth once again. “MMMmmmmmm.” This time her protest was a mere moan into the rag. Her pleading eyes stared up at me, but I could tell she wasn't able to actually see me. I pulled her sexy body against mine, while keeping the rag in place. She was gasping for air, and her hands were slapping my arm and shoulder in a last futile act of defiance. Finally she went limp in my grasp, her body bending backwards, allowing her full weight to depend on my strength to keep her erect.

“That's it. Keep breathing in those sweet fumes.” Slowly I lowered the unconscious Auburn Goddess to the floor. “That was perfect.” I spent the rest of the day trying to capture the event on paper, while the Auburn Goddess spent it in the locked room. As the comic novel began to take shape, I felt a change coming over me. I was slipping into the role of villain. The Auburn Goddess seemed all too real, and I had become the Collector. I must dispose of her to finish the book, so I could begin another adventure with a new Heroine. It had become an obsession.

 

Boomer

 

 

 

 
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