Chapter 7: Will You Still Hate Me Tomorrow?
In the recent past, Amanda Night sat at her mother’s, Missy Night’s, desk and examined her manicured, black-painted nails. She was currently undergoing a more ‘goth'- influenced stage. Of course, this image was carefully manufactured, as was almost everything in her young life. Still, she enjoyed black nails, if nothing else.
Missy came in, and the door slammed behind her. “You’ve really done it this time, you little brat,” she hissed and sat down. As she did so, she thrust a photograph towards her daughter, seeing it sliding on the desk before them.
Condescension and disdain dripped from her mother’s lips: “A second sex tape? Before you’re even twenty?”
“Mommy…” Amanda started to plead her case.
“Do not 'mommy' me right now.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is. You wanted me to promote the first one…”
“No, I wanted you to capitalize on the first one. Which we did. Or, more specifically, I did. But a second tape? That’s not the image we want out there. One time, it was a mistake, and you’re a victim. Twice, you’re a porn star.”
“Listen, it’s not that big of a deal. Athena is always dating football players. And you know that Aurora is sleeping around, and she’s not eve-“
Missy reached over and slapped Amanda in the face. “You ungrateful little simpleton. You have no idea what I’ve sacrificed for you girls. And how do you repay me? By constantly trying to demolish everything I’ve built for you with the wrecking ball you call your personal life. I could have you set up with the biggest rap stars, but instead, you’re slumming with D-Listers and getting so blitzed that you’ll end up the biggest punchline in this town.”
Amanda sulked while she rubbed her cheek. “Maybe I didn’t want this life after all…”
Missy laughed. “You wouldn’t know how to even live without it. Do you know who got this tape for us? For half the price of Aurora’s new modeling contract?”
“Who?” Amanda said.
Missy started daggers back. “You know who.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “Kamille. That jacked-up whore.”
Missy smiled. “Exactly. She’s the cautionary tale, you know. She was the child star…remember her catchphrase?”
Amanda responded with disinterest. “No, because I’m not a million years old, boomer.”
Missy responded in a mocking tone, “Whoopsie…was that bad?” She thought that would last forever. Now look at her. Cannot even get on Dancing with the Stars.”
Amanda needed to catch up on the conversation. She had heard stories of a new club in town, and her friend Kimberlea had scored some nice stuff. “I got it. Behave.”
Missy looked at her with a cold stare. “You know, there are worse lives out there than the one I’ve given you.”
Amanda walked out in a huff. “Bet you can’t prove it…”
“Tomorrow” finally came for Amanda. She was unsure when Elise finally descended those steps to free her from her new ‘quarters.’ She only knew it had been more than one meager day. In fact, Elise had checked on her charge numerous times over the past couple of evenings. She had never allowed the young reality starlet to know of her arrival, always intoxicating Amanda with a variety of powerful drugs before she checked on Amanda’s various tubes and life-preserving devices (not to mention the bondage keeping her still) and changed Amanda’s diaper regularly. When Amanda felt a jolt of the cocaine and amphetamines jolting her back awake, Elise appeared to have vanished without providing Amanda with any relief from her restrained state. Instead, Amanda believed she had suffered this entire time without the slightest hint of human interaction other than the torturous electrode shocks that sometimes attacked her ears, eyes, and body. That and the horrific milking machine that came humming to life at random times to torture her large, natural breasts, even though no milk would ever come from those tortured orbs. Besides those agonies, Amanda lived in the new storage facility in complete, intense isolation.
But all that changed when Elise chose to interact with her new toy again. This time, Elise was not returning to the basement to check on Amanda’s well-being but to inflict new and different tortures on her prisoner. After all, she would not want the notoriously fickle celeb to get bored with her like she was a nightclub on its way to obscurity.
Elise wanted Amanda to awake to experience the next steps of her internment, including the initial ‘unboxing.’ While not quite as diabolical as the initial restraint, unbinding someone also had its intrinsic pleasures. It allowed Elise to demonstrate her god-like status to her prey, showing that every movement allowed resulted entirely from the actress’s mercies.
But Amanda would have found Elise’s sense of mercy wanting. And, in fact, it was. Another pleasure of the unbinding process was the impatience that grew in the victims who were so close to some sort of freedom but entirely dependent on their predator. And Elise certainly was in no hurry to get Amanda loose from her new container. Not that Amanda knew that was happening at first. No, her eyesight was still blocked out by the electrodes covering her eyes, and any audio was muffled. This changed somewhat as she was removed from the wall and placed on the ground while Amanda was still inside the drawer. The first thing she felt was a sharp pain in her nipples as the horrible suction of the milking machines was disconnected; her nipples stretched from the suction they had to endure on and off. Then, she could hear scattered sounds as Elise disconnected the machinery connecting her breathing and feeding tubes, but not before she felt a breath interrupted by Elise hitting another button to give the victim another involuntary hit of ‘nose candy.’ This activated Amanda’s body in a way, causing her to jerk and her heart to race as she felt the paranoia and enhanced sensations as Elise continued to work on undoing Amanda from her sleeping quarters, starting with loosening the hair bondage. Elise then removed the electrodes from her ears and then, finally, the eyes of her captive.
After the horrific ordeal, Elise would be unsurprised if a catatonic, broken visage returned her gaze. However, as light flowed back into Amanda's eyes, and she regained her sense of sight after the initial pain of her eyes adjusting, Amanda still had a look that contained a mixture of rage and fear. Amanda’s spirit was not yet extinguished. Good.
“Did you sleep well, my darling?” Elise said with a chuckle, knowing that whatever ‘sleep’ Amanda had managed to get over the past few nights was the reality star’s body just collapsing due to exhaustion before undoubtedly awakening later with some electrical torture or violent suction of the cups.
“Hnnnngghffff…” was the pained response from the lips of the ex-celebrity.
“I will not bore you with the details of exactly how long you’ve been stored away here, but it's safe to say I am excited to see that you’re surviving the experience. But now you need to get some exercise.”
Amanda sighed, but she was, after a long, deliberate process, finally extricated from much of the bondage that held her captive in the container.
However, she did not enjoy it long because a rag was placed over her mouth and nose with a powerful ether. Amanda fought the urge to vomit, but she eventually succumbed to the fumes, and her eyes fluttered and then closed. A necessary evil so Elise could prepare for the day’s torments.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Amanda. As you can see, I’ve decided to go positively medieval for your current predicament.” Elise circled Amanda like a vulture to see how much movement Amanda currently had. She was delighted to see Amanda, unable to turn around to follow her taunting form, the metal holding her tight. Amanda was in a forced sitting position on her curvy ass and forced to watch Elise’s predatory orbit.
“What you are currently experiencing is a combination of updated bondage devices that were once used, among other things, to imprison slutty whores and insolent witches. In your case, whores and bitches.” Elise said with a chuckle. She reached out and playfully touched Amanda’s fingers, which were displayed in front of her. She enjoyed seeing Amanda’s digits trying to avoid the touch.
“This here is known as a fiddle. As you can see, it is attached to that thick, secure metal collar around your neck. Some fiddles, which you may or may not experience some days, depending on when I replace you, are horizontal. They keep your arms right next to each other, almost like a figure eight. This fiddle, as you notice, keeps your arms almost vertical. One on top of the other. This makes it seem even more helpless and a little more uncomfortable. I’m sure you will let me know if you agree…”
A frustrated grunt of “MMMMggggghHffff…” was all that escaped from Amanda’s pried wide, ball-gagged mouth, drool pouring from the hole in the middle of it. Elise continued with her explanation.
“Now, as for your legs, this whole ensemble is a modified version of a little something from the Tudor era called a scavenger’s daughter. A medieval torture device in the shape of an A meant to wear down spirited captives by keeping them in an impossibly restrained position for extended periods. Now you will get to have this experience. It’s straightforward. Just two metal rods that attach from your collar to these cuffs around your ankle like the letter A. As you can see or at least feel from your vantage point, I added this upside-down Y-shaped steel rod from your fiddled wrists that connects, effectively making it one large piece of metal holding you ultimately still and quite helpless. A quick demonstration is in order.”
With that, Elise shoved Amanda to her side and received an emphatic “HHHHHHhhhhurrfFGGHH” response.
With her body trapped in the modified “A” frame, Amanda toppled over and was unable to right herself until Elise was tired of the “demonstration” and grabbed the fiddle, which pulled the reality star back, so she was once again residing on her ass.
“Even with my ‘advanced’ age, it’s so easy to dominate you in this restraint system. And the rusty implements give everything such a rustic and barbaric feel. But I do hope you’ll let me indulge my whims with a bit of modernity,” Elise taunted.
“After all, I can’t help but make the following even more frustrating for you.” Elise pulled out some electrical tape and proceeded to mummify the hands of her victim, but not into fists like before. This time, she trapped the pinky and ring fingers together and then repeated the process on the pointer and middle fingers. Effectively, those digits, which did their best to avoid their fate but couldn’t escape with the fiddle’s cuffs locking her wrists so tight, became two separate fingers and a useless thumb.
“Live long and prosper,” Elise joked to a victim who was too young and “cool” to ever get that reference.
“Now that those prying fingers have been taken care of, we can get to the real business of the hour. I have already told you that today would be the day you will experience a true discipline helmet for the first time. To say it will induce claustrophobia is an understatement. And once you experience my true love of sensory deprivation, robbing you of what makes you human, you’re going to find that it is only going to get worse from here. But we will start mild… so here is what you will wear for the foreseeable future…”
Elise taunted as she pulled out a mannequin head that was totally enshrouded by a second leather face. The result was an alien-looking ‘severed head’ that resembled the leather “Gwendoline hood” she wore before, but far more severe. For instance, the face had no large opening for the eyes and nose. Instead, a complete ‘mask’ on the thick leather helmet included grey, pepper pot openings for the eyes, a leather nose covering almost resembling a nose, and another smaller grey perfect circle over the mouth. It nearly looked like a parody of a human face. Amanda could not imagine another human wearing the object, much less that human being herself.
“That’s right, Amanda. I’m beyond tired of looking at that vacant look in your eyes. Even that has a little too much spirit for me. So, instead, this is going to be your face. You will undoubtedly go temporarily mad once I introduce your head to it. You’ll desperately try to reach your hands to your face to claw it from you. That’s why the fiddle here is so devious. Your hands will be oh-so-close but so far. So inescapably far…”
Elise’s voice dripped with sensual desire as she imagined the fear this would provoke in Amanda.
“But right now, you’re unworthy of my extra attention. I want you to beg me for this discipline helmet. I want you to welcome it. But how do I do that? By threatening you with the drawer again? No, that’s much too easy. You’re becoming accustomed to it; honestly, that is the most comfortable you will be now. Complicated electrical torture? I’ve played that game with you before, and quite honestly, I’m not in the mood to set up something so complicated for an ungrateful recipient like yourself. No, I have something far more elegant and simpler in mind. Something that will test the mettle and metal of that bondage of yours.”
Amanda could only sit there and simmer with her mouth around the stainless steel ball coated in and dripping with her saliva. The thought of wearing the discipline helmet did not even seem real to her. Despite its size, it seemed impossible that her head could fit inside such a thing, and it seemed even more impossible that she could survive inside it. However, she could barely even struggle as the metal held firm, not letting her move as from a faraway eye, her frantic struggles to get her body to move might be mistaken for patience due to her enforced immobility. Elise walked away, excited to move towards the next level of her sadistic amusement.
Elise returned with a roll of plastic wrap and cruelly interjected, “There, are we ready to see if we can get you to beg for the unthinkable, my dear?”
INTERLUDE
Cassidy grew frustrated with the lack of forward momentum in the Amanda Night case. As the days went on, the thoughts of productive leads suddenly appearing became less and less likely. While the rumor was that Amanda had escaped her upcoming jail sentence by absconding, Cassidy had doubts. While others seemed to believe that Amanda possessed some cunning disguised behind a facade, Cassidy’s interviews had not left her with the impression that Amanda was a criminal mastermind. If anything, she appeared to be a spoiled child almost entirely supported by her domineering mother. Cassidy’s face registered her disgust as she remembered her initial conversations with Missy Night, who seemed more concerned with public relations than that of her missing progeny.
However, her surveillance of the Night family empire did lead to one somewhat surprising development. This involved former child star and now “private eye” Kamille Devine. Her presence was not welcome by the young police officer. Just a few years ago, the LAPD investigated Kamille and her ex-mentor for illegal wiretaps and other illegal surveillance methods on behalf of influential Hollywood individuals, many of whom were embroiled in embarrassing lawsuits with whistleblowers. Kamille had a reputation as unfailingly unscrupulous. There was no doubt that Missy hiring Kamille meant there may be more to the story than the publicity-conscious matriarch was doling out to sycophantic reporters. However, Cassidy wasn’t free to act illegally like Kamille might. She lived in a world of search warrants and old-fashioned police work. Therefore, she felt like her attempts to seek truth would be deterred by others’ attempts to mask them. Her efforts often led to wild goose chases. She had just come back from talking with the family of an undocumented immigrant, a young woman named Marita, who went missing over a year ago. Despite that time, there appeared to be no new information on that case. It was just another dead end.
All Cassidy had now was a hunch that there was more to Amanda Night’s disappearance than the story of a young woman evading justice and hoping she would solve the puzzle somehow. As she started taking notes, she had her favorite soap opera, “Search for Love,” in the background to fill the silence. It was a guilty pleasure for the police officer so desperate to prove her worth and strength. But Cassidy loved it all the same, remembering sick days from school, watching it with her mother, and marveling at the devious actions of the characters. However, Cassidy did feel a sense of unease now whenever she saw Elise Konrad after her interview in this case. She chalked it up to the shattered illusion of meeting the actress instead of the character rather than something triggering her policewoman’s intuition. If only she knew that the actress she met was just another character.
END INTERLUDE
Elise slowly and deliberately began to surround the head of Amanda Night, her captured reality star, with the unthinkably tight and hot plastic wrap that clung to Amanda’s face like she was a meal being preserved for leftovers.
After watching her captive twitching and thrashing about as much as the metal bondage allowed, Elise finally exercised some uncharacteristic pity. She reached out with a pencil-thin metal point that she lined up and, with some effort, pressed into the hole of the metal ball gag. Drool dripped out, but more prominently, the sound-proofed makeshift dungeon was soon filled with panicked, frantic breathing as the plastic wrap reacted to Amanda’s desperate attempt to pull air into her lungs.
“Ah, Amanda. I always thought you and your sisters were so dumb that you would forget to breathe one day. I guess today is that day. You see, you do not want to breathe so heavily. You want to breathe calmly and carefully. Otherwise, you are going to pass out. And I guarantee you will wake up in an even worse position if you do. I may even suspend you from those mantraps of yours…”
“Of course, you can stop my little game at any time by saying “Please hood me, Goddess.”
Amanda tried hard to follow Elise’s advice. Still, she did not precisely know how to calm down enough following the suffocation of the plastic wrap around her face. She was sure, however, that she did not want that horrible discipline helmet around her face and head, and she refused to do anything but breathe hastily. In any event, Elise pulled out the plastic wrap and wrapped it around Amanda’s face again, this time covering up the small holes.
“NNnNGGhhh…SSttggppp!! HFFFffffff” was all Amanda could muster through the hole in the metal ball gag before she was brought back to the complete silence of suffocation yet again.
Elise moaned and almost squealed in her own pleasure as she enjoyed the scene for a minute or so before again poking small holes, with even more incredible difficulty this time, until she heard the panicked breathing again.
“Oh, no, Amanda. That is not how you want to breathe at all.” Elise punctuated her repeated guidance with strong slaps to Amanda’s trapped face, which the trapped reality star felt through the now several layers of plastic wrap.
“I see you’ve failed to learn…oh well,” Elise said, repeating the process over the panicked screams and squirming. She let Amanda set a record for asphyxiation before once again poking some holes in the center of the gag, allowing just enough air through to keep Amanda from expiring. The tortured sound of breath soon followed.
“Plash…pllssggh…” Amanda could barely form anything resembling words as her face looked alien under the tight wrapping. As much as the discipline helmet terrified her, Amanda was no longer convinced that the constant suffocating presence of the saran wrap was an improvement.
But Elise was relentless. The game repeated itself time and time again. A ballet of Amanda being brought to the brink of suffocation and then a small hole allowing just the tiniest bit of air. Eventually, Amanda’s willpower crumbled. “Pllsshh hddd mggghNNNNNNNNNnngghhFff!” However, Elise was not yet ready to give up her twisted game, and the wrap again went over the holes and the gag, cutting off Amanda’s attempt to submit.
“Oh, I’m sorry…I didn’t get that.” After a few seconds, Elise poked another hole into the new layer of wrap, but after just a couple shallow breaths to get air back in Amanda’s desperate lungs and another unsuccessful and aborted submission attempt, the plastic simply suppressed the mouth hole of the captive reality star yet again. This time, Elise let Amanda dance near unconsciousness before cutting away more of the material, having to resort to using a small pocket-knife.
These extinguished efforts by Amanda to end the game repeated repeatedly until Amanda’s head started to resemble an opaque bubble under the layers of saran wrap. Finally, a final layer went over Elise’s head, and Elise stated, “I think that’s it…I’m not sure my knife can even find the hole now…I don’t know how much air you have left, but if you don’t want to…”
“Pllgghh…hddd..mggh…ggddsss…” Amanda was finally able to articulate through her gagged lips through desperate and reedy inhales.
“That’s a good girl,” Elise purred as she poked a final hole (after some effort) and allowed Amanda’s well-wrapped face to inhale once again,
“But as you should have figured by now, I am not much into submission. I prefer my captives to be fiery and lively. So, despite your best efforts, you have disappointed me yet again. And with that comes punishment.”
With that cue, plastic wrap surrounded Amanda’s face yet again, and the game continued until Amanda was floating near unconsciousness, like a patient revived from the dead over and over again. Elise continued until she was bored, and only then did she begin removing the sweltering, smothering layers. Elise unwrapped Amanda’s head like a present to reveal the sweaty visage of her captured reality star underneath. Amanda hung her head, saliva dripping down the hole in the metal gag.
Elise enjoyed this muted dread that slowly enveloped Amanda Night after this cruel game, and she continued to play with her captive like a cat with a trapped mouse. Slowly and deliberately, Elise started to unlace the tight laces of the discipline helmet in front of Amanda’s face. The laces holding the hood tightly to the dummy's head slowly became undone, letting Amanda see the process, how taut the helmet could be, and how long it took to undo. It certainly would not be something that Elise could remove at the first sign of panic, but both knew that Elise would not indulge in any degree of compassion no matter how distraught Amanda became. In truth, Elise could not wait to see Amanda’s trapped head in the tight hood, desperately questing for any sight or sound that managed to permeate its presence.
As Elise finally managed to extricate the hood from the inert mannequin head and prepared to insert it on another inert head, that of her victim, Amanda’s negative pleas again grew more frantic and intense.
“NgggHHHHHhhhhhgoo..YggghH CGGHhnntTT PGGHT tthhgGGT onnggHH mmgGGHH!!!”
“Oh, no. Ms. Night, you asked for this. Are you terrified of this helmet? You’ve spent all your young life in the spotlight, and now you are so scared of something extinguishing that light and hiding away that famous face? Can you imagine how claustrophobic it will feel as I slip it over that pleading, screaming face of yours? It must be a new feeling for you to feel so utterly helpless?”
“Well, here is what I will allow you—a second chance. If you somehow manage to escape the bondage that I have put you within the hour, I will forgo the discipline helmet for today. I like to evaluate my abilities. But this time, I want something in return. What skin are you willing to put in the game?”
“Pllggsss…nngghff…”
Elise looked over Amanda’s compressed body, reached over, and twisted Amanda’s nipples to show her dominance over her victim further.
“I did not ask for desperate appeals for clemency. I have no quarter for them today or any day. I asked you for a wager, and since you were so impolite as to refuse my offer, I will make one for you.”
“The wager is this. If you can escape, I will return you to your drawer for the ‘night…’
“Ngggho… I dggnnt wggnntt…” Amanda tried to protest, not wanting to return to the cupboard's horrible conditions.
“Oh, do shut up. You have not heard the wager yet. If you do manage to get loose enough to…hmmm…”
Elise pondered something and then went out and found a cowbell that she sometimes used as a weight or an extra bit of humiliation. She placed the cowbell out of the reach of her captive.
“Ring this bell, and you get to go to ‘sleep’ without your helmet on. But if you lose, you will remain out for the night.”
“Plggss…I ddgnn…”
Elise stopped the gagged caterwauling with a slight slap to Amanda’s face.
“I told you to shut up. Your agreeable nature has gotten you in much trouble in your life. Yes, I will leave you out, but you will not be sitting here on your ass. You will be dangling in the air with a bit of extra entertainment. How does that sound?”
Amanda could not conceive of a result worse than being entombed again in that horrible drawer. Still, she knew from Elise’s expression that whatever the alternative was, it would be intolerable. Amanda’s heart raced as she considered the cruel wager. But it was not like she had much of a choice.
“Tick-tock, Amanda,” Elise said with a grin and a point toward an imaginary watch. “You have exactly one hour from this minute. She proceeded to saunter out of the room, leaving her captive celebrity alone with the unyielding steel bondage.
Amanda's heart raced as she frantically tried to move within her metal prison. The fiddle held her arms firmly in place, the collar around her neck preventing any significant movement of her head. Her legs, trapped in the frame of the scavenger’s daughter, remained splayed open and immobile.
She strained against the bonds, muscles tensing as she pushed with all her might. But the steel was unyielding, not budging even a fraction of an inch. Sweat began to bead on her forehead as panic set in. The cowbell seemed impossibly far away, taunting her with its proximity yet complete inaccessibility.
Her muscles screamed in agonizing protest at even these tiny movements after being immobile for so long. Sweat began to bead on her forehead as she exerted herself, dripping into her eyes and mixing with the tears of frustration starting to form.
She tried to focus on one part of the restraints at a time. First, she concentrated on her wrists to no avail. Then, her ankles again. And finally, her fingers. Nothing budged. Amanda’s throat burned as she let out another vexed and horrified scream.
INTERLUDE
Parker Pham tried to keep a poker face as she looked at the woman who claimed to be Los Angeles’s most prominent psychic while they continued their conversation for Parker’s new hit podcast.
The half-Vietnamese reporter pondered her career choices as she heard the middle-aged woman, a celebrity’s mother desperate for fame herself, talk about life force and negative energy and feed into conspiracy theories about secret Hollywood cabals.
Parker thought Hollywood's dark secret was staring back at her, people desperate to become things they were not. It was a constant game of pretend.
“Well, that’s just about all the time we have today on 'Night of Mystery.” I’d like to..uh..thank my guest, Medium Teresa Holmes, for providing us with that interesting…hm…insight. We’ll be back next week for an intimate conversation with one of Amanda’s high school classmates to learn a little bit more about her troubled private school days. Can they provide any insight on LA’s most famous missing person?”
Parker, polite as she was raised, shook the charlatan’s hand before getting up from her podcast desk and proceeded to go to the bathroom and wash that hand in guilt. Parker never imagined that after graduating first in her class in journalism school, spurred on by childhood dreams of breaking big, meaningful stories, she would instead subsidize the paper’s budget with this advertiser-supported junk culture nonsense. She knew it was a waste of her considerable talent.
As Parker washed her face, she ruminated that print journalism continued to spiral towards its deathbed. She could at least take solace in that her tabloid exploits continued to ensure a job would be available when she ‘earned’ one. And Parker could not think of any better way to earn that job than solving this mystery, not with worthless, salacious interviews, but with good old-fashioned journalism.
“You can do this. You’re Parker Pham, and this is your dream.” Parker said to herself in the mirror before exiting the bathroom and returning to her desk, trying to convince herself that Hollywood was not where all dreams came to die.