Chapter 8: In the Air Tonight
Decades ago, Elise celebrated the first months in her new home…the second of her house of horrors bought and paid for with her salary as the beloved but aging polestar of the soap opera scene and her investment genius. After decades of living her secret double life on an LA property, it looked to everyone who "knew" her that she was downsizing to a property that would be easier for her in her advancing age. However, she and the contractors who built the home would know of the vast basement that added so much unseen space to the house. Not that it was "tiny" by any stretch of the imagination. The property spanned several acres, and in addition to the basement, it contained one crucial component that Elise wanted. She had an impressive koi pond on her last property and insisted on an even bigger and more impressive one for her new home. Nobody who helped design or build that pond would know of Elise's sinister intentions or about those residents who would soon join the fish swimming within its barriers. At this point, that koi pond was empty of such intruders.
But Elise knew that would soon change. Very quickly. With those evil thoughts in mind, Elise looked over her reflection in the pond and pondered this future use and those inhabitants. Who might she discover in the next phase of her infernal life's journey? How many would she be able to shepherd toward this exquisite resting space?
Elise saw the effects of time on her face. She was still gorgeous by typical standards, and the work she had secretly done had prolonged those attractive features. But she was growing older, and time would run out for her, as it would for all of us. Indeed, it seemed to run out sooner in this particular part of America. In a metaphorical heartbeat, it will all be over for her career. She was already starting to be cast as an older woman, her days as the burgeoning bombshell behind her. But for however long she could maintain her life, she would. And she would continue to enjoy her life to the fullest. Though she could not escape the melancholy of its coming extinction, whenever that may be.
With that sobering thought, Elise took the long walk, in the beautiful evening, back to the home she had constructed to hopefully live out the rest of what she considered her well-lived life. She walked in and went to the door to her 'secret' basement, specially made for her by contractors who knew how to keep a secret or had some themselves they needed to keep buried. Elise's current dirty secret awaited her at the bottom of the stairs. Elise could hear the sounds originating from when she exited the upper floor, isolated through the extreme soundproofing she had installed.
"You should really spend more time outside. It really is a place meant to accentuate such gorgeous evenings," Elise said as she made her way to the bottom of the steps, elegantly stepping like a diplomat's wife at the most beautiful ball. A rhythmic mechanical wheezing seemed to greet her arrival from the basement.
"The pond especially looks incredibly radiant tonight. It catches the moonlight just right. It's a pity that I am so new here. It would be tempting to roll you over there and let you see it, but I need to test the limits of my privacy first. But rest assured, you will be familiar with it someday. And I guarantee you might be clamoring for its cold embrace by the time I am finished with you."
The mechanical wheezing sound echoed through the basement as Elise looked wonderfully at her new playground. It was almost as if she was attempting to avoid looking at the centerpiece object in the middle of the room.
"You see, I was very tempted to try and move one of my unwilling specimens to my new spider's web here. But that would be extremely difficult and a risk that would not be worth taking. Most would say I was crazy to leave the last pond and its remnants behind even though I still own the property. But because of these precautions, I feel like I robbed you of some of the experience, and I humbly apologize."
There was no response, and how could there be? Even if one was physically possible, one without her knowledge could not know the darkness that accompanied each part of that ominous sentence. But with that, Elise finally gave her attention to the other occupant of the basement and the source of those repetitive noises.
Hatti was an aspiring screenwriter and novelist who had applied for a job at Search for Love several months before meeting its star. In fact, Elise, annoyed at the misogynist writer's room and the fact that this art form, which primarily spoke to women, was primarily constructed by men, had pushed for her program to try and find more female voices. Hatti, who was desperate for a job in writing rather than dog-walking and babysitting, was among the first to apply. The male screenwriters found her submission dull and derivative and tossed it to the bottom of the pile. Elise now thought that if they had managed to see the cute young woman who wrote it, they would have likely changed that tune and declared it the most brilliant piece of literature ever sculpted by the human mind.
Elise had read the script herself and quite liked it. She especially was partial to how it truly spoke from the perspective of the fairer sex and the inner turmoil of the characters. Elise could see this author was a sensitive soul who was much too good to be just another monkey clicking away on a typewriter but a talent desperately needing an opportunity.
For a bit, Elise secretly figured she might use her connections to provide this opening. That was until Elise learned more about Hatti. As Elise read her poetry in college journals and saw her picture, she lusted for the young scribe. With every word she mentally digested, Elise's mind soared with admiration. Here was someone with a unique perspective on life, a view that should be shared with the world. And it opened a desire in Elise to be the one to crush it and hide it away from the world. A possession that only she possessed.
Elise kept her distance and learned more about Hatti. She had not yet made the trek to the City of Angels but was still in a neighboring and more rural area. A local poetry journal featured a poem about her love of biking, a strange contrast for the somewhat gothy, fair-skinned, raven-haired young woman. Elise traveled to that small city and waited to see Hatti, dressed in a skintight biking outfit, set out on her bike for the secluded roads, which Elise followed in her hidden car with its dummy license plates…not that there were any cameras nearby. Her vehicle would soon collide with the bike on one of those dirt roads.
Hatti was not seriously injured, just confused and a little angry at the woman who had thoughtlessly knocked her off her bike. Confusion grew as she realized it was the star of the soap opera she had previously applied for. This softened her mood considerably as the apologetic Elise attempted to try and immediately play nursemaid. As she promised to take Hatti to the hospital to get checked out, Hatti did not notice the needle. She did not realize what was happening before it was too late. Several hours later, another package was accompanying the still-unpacked moving boxes downstairs. This "package" was also bound tight in brown packing tape surrounding her jaw and vertically on the top of her head. It was also layered tight horizontally around the face and head, securing the girl's sweaty bike shorts inside the oral cavity. The nude body of Hatti was also bound at the ankles, knees, and thighs, and her bare feet were welded together, totally enveloped in tape. Her hands were tied in front of her, also wrapped tightly together in the sticky brown adhesive and secured to her ample chest with turn after turn of the brown tape.
As Elise deposited her with the boxes, she whispered something into her panicked captive's ear, adorned with multiple piercings. It was the first word that Elise had spoken since that needle had jabbed into Hatti's exposed neck, and it was delivered as expertly as Elise typically delivered her monologues.
Welcome, guests; step inside this empty shell
Echoes of dreams and memories soon to swell
But In barren rooms and hollow halls
Familiar shadows hide on pristine walls
Your well-wishes and thoughts you now bring
To fill the void for our happy housewarming
Unpack these boxes, stay a while
Please ignore the secrets beneath these smiles
For in this fresh start, this new hopeful space
Lie the unvisited ghosts of a forever-empty place
Toast to the future and ignore the past
As we set about this new trespass
For no celebration can mask the fear
Of our failures and losses lurking near
Breaking the silence, our forced laughter rings
While the house it settles, accepting offerings
Of shattered aspirations and our good intentions gone
A collection of disappointments, a sacrificed pawn
So raise your glass high, my dearest friends
To our beginnings and their uncertain ends
In this housewarming, we dare to believe
That triumph is something to be achieved
But as we lay down our head to rest
We remember the struggle and pain possessed
Remember, these freshly painted walls
Someday too may bear cracks and falls
For a dream home is a fragile facade
Where reality battles the fictions we laud
Yet still we rejoice and dare to drape
Our hopes in our precarious landscape
Knowing deep down, as we smile and nod
Each housewarming may be where our fate is penned
And where we christen the place we met our end
Hatti had shuddered as she heard her words recited back towards her, her body shaking as she realized her current predicament was no accident.
With that, Elise let Hatti stew for quite a while before another injection. Now here, several days later, Hatti faced Elise again, who again recited a haunting, fitting poem to her own restrained muse as she could do literally nothing but listen to her own words helping to torture her.
A pen now stilled, ink now drained dry
A once vibrant voice, now a muted cry
Trapped within a cage of our flawed flesh
Snuffing those embers, our dreams suppressed
Unwritten stories are forever lost
A trophy hunt rotted under the frost
Muse held captive, inspiration chained
Genius and fool both restrained.
Words unspoken, verses unsung
Now a forever-stifled tongue
Bound by a fear that one cannot escape
Bound by a fear that we all embrace
A voice extinguished, forever banned
By our own malevolent, oppressive hand
What masterpieces have all died with us
Never to emerge, an unsatiated lust
I have wept for the words I did not bring
For the unwritten songs, no notes to sing
Mourn the loss of our unburdened mind
Hopes in oblivion, where cruelly consigned
In darkness bound, far from acclaim
The world unknowing of your name
Or the treasures it has been denied
By our own monster's sadistic pride
Rest now, sweet bard, in your chains
Your legacy naught but orphaned refrains
A tragic figure, to dust returned
Your inner fire forever spurned
Silenced scribe, we hardly knew
The depths of genius you stole from you
Elise smiled cruelly at Hatti's trembling, bound form as the final, devastating stanza hung in the air. "You see, Hatti, your words inspire. I should not deny myself my art, my pleasure, simply because smaller, insignificant minds would not accept it. I am sure you understand."
The mechanical wheezing came from the gas mask that adorned Hatti's face. She was tied in the air, her body stretched as she was lewdly tied in a spread eagle, her body an exposed "X." She had been placed directly on a "Sybian"-style machine. It continued its work as Hatti could only sit there and take the punishment while Elise took her evening constitutional. Hatti's pale white body was stretched to what felt like a breaking point, her toes off the ground as the ropes that held her limbs tight and spread. Underneath the gas mask, her face had been wrapped in several layers of packing tape yet again. Ironically, the wordsmith had been unable to utter a single unmuffled syllable since arriving at Elise's, and that would not change now as the modified gas mask made every breath a precious commodity. The machine’s modified motor, almost entirely silent, masked its efforts as it continuously teased and humiliated the nude woman forced to straddle it.
"I hope you are comfortable. Maybe you've reached the point where you sympathize with a fellow frustrated artist who cannot share her art with the world. That's what this device references," Elise stated as she gestured towards the teasing, motorized masturbation station.
“Edged, humiliated, frustrated. A fitting metaphor for your life, don’t you think?” Elise said, relishing the amount of control she possessed over her trembling muse and the wheezing that answered.
“How must it feel to have all your best work behind you? Your days as an artist are nearing their end. Now you have become art yourself. We should all be so lucky.”
With that, Elise inspected Hatti before turning the motor up, hearing it whine as the stroking intensified.
“I don’t know if you can, Hatti, but if you can release yourself to the pleasure, now would be an exquisite time. Because I am about to show you something incredible that you should be able to appreciate.”
Of course, Hatti did nothing of the sort. Her mind and efforts were solely on survival, even as the pleasure machine mercilessly assaulted her privates. Those feelings would only increase momentarily.
“You see, Hatti. I usually work on two subjects at once. One in the predicament you find yourself in now. A plaything to be used for my pleasure. And one…well…. becoming one with bondage more permanently. The time comes, things change, and the cycle repeats. I typically enjoy seeing someone like yourself visualizing the future they will soon endure piece by piece. However, moving is just so stressful, you know.”
The wheezing responded. Elise continued. “I could not risk a spirited captive disturbing our movers. So, instead, I only had them transport inert, inanimate objects. Like this trunk here.”
Elise walked over and started thumping a fist on what looked like a long and heavy trunk.
“I see the trunk itself is of little interest. Probably not artisan or antique enough to pique your hipster taste. But I guarantee it will interest you in the future. Very much so.”
With that, Elise started to undo the locks and latches that held the trunk shut. It had been unknowingly moved to the basement by movers who had no idea what was inside. After Elise finished the arduous process of opening the trunk, she spilled its contents to the floor below.
“I think you will find this particular inert object of more immediate interest.” Spilled out in front of her was what resembled a woman, having been bound in multiple layers of mummifying tape. A horrified scream escaped the forced breathing of the gas mask.
“Hatti, meet your predecessor. I call her Jane #2, or 2 for short because she’s my second Jane. She spent some time with me at my old house and made the trek with me to this new one. She was a prized possession. Up until a few weeks ago, she fulfilled your role. Maybe she had the exact same experience you are currently having at some point during her stay. You are following in her footsteps. Lest you believe you’re too special, let’s say you stride upon a well-worn trail.”
Hatti watched in horror through the foggy lenses of the gas mask as the creature in front of her was unveiled. It was bent in the most sadistic fashion and swathed in several layers of tape. If what Elise told her was true, which it surely could not be, Jane would have been alive in this position and truck since the move, which seemed impossible. The human body could not withstand that kind of punishment and pressure for long.
Thus, Hatti refused to believe it was anything other than an elaborate sculpture, maybe made of tape entirely. But she also swore she saw the remnants of Jane move ever so slightly. And try as she might, despite her own restrained efforts to breathe and the accompanying noise of that and the device under her, she heard something resembling breathing coming from the pried open nostrils of the mummified body.
“I know what you are thinking, Hatti. I’ve become attuned to all the stages of grief. She is alive. She is real. Right now, she is blind, deaf, and completely dumb. Quite permanently. So she may not know you are even here. Except that one day, she saw me dump some other used toys onto the floor before her. Maybe she has pieced that together…. what do you think?” Elise sadistically kicked the package before her as she looked over Hatti’s screaming and writhing form, being faced with an evil that even her writer’s mind could not imagine.
“I imagine that might remind her. If she is still there at all in any real way. Someday, I’ll be curious if you’ll remember…but hopefully, for you, that day will be in the distant future.”
Hatti’s mind almost broke for a second as she felt sympathy for the other woman she was told was before her. She could barely concentrate as Elise discussed how Jane was the daughter of a real estate associate who had tried to take advantage of her by suckering her into a pyramid scheme. As Elise pried into it, she discovered that she was involved in some extensive criminal fraud and that secrecy would cost her when she went missing. Elise continued to think about the still-mourning elderly parents, unaware of their daughter’s scheming. They had just politely declined an offer to attend Elise’s going-away party, ironically their last chance to be in proximity to their daughter, who was securely bound and gagged in the coffin-like drawer below. Elise read Jane's parents’ RSVP response to their daughter immediately before transforming her into her current state.
Hatti was less concerned about the back story and more about their future.
“Tomorrow, I will fill this second, smaller trunk with sand and hook Jane up to some machines for her forever isolation. I’ve been taking care of her manually, but I grow tired of it. I have better things to do now. Like writing a new chapter with my little author here.”
To christen this new arrangement, Elise walked over to Hatti and squeezed her nipples painfully. “You are a member of the itty-bitty titty committee. Which doesn’t bode well for your time here, I’m afraid. Lucky, I’m so intrigued by your mind…”
Elise said as she walked back to the trunk. “Now let me tell you what this trunk means for you, dear poet.”
And when that explanation came, Hatti screamed yet again as much as the gas mask would permit.
A few months later, Elise had predictably tired of Hatti. Hatti was released from the drawer, and one of her eyes was freed to see the sight she had hoped never to see. Another bound and gagged woman. This time, Elise was even crueler, and that young woman, whose dark skin looked Indian, was tied exactly like Hatti had been, including the motorized apparatus beneath her. Hatti could see exactly what she looked like when exposed to Elise’s macabre interests many months ago.
“Hatti, meet Bhavna. Do you know that college students still do exchange programs? And fundraisers? Elise said with enthusiasm as Hatti‘s face went white as she was forced to remember the end of the path she was currently on.
“I have to say, Hatti, you were fun for a while. But I bored with you about as quickly as I did your poetry. I see now that I was blinded by my lust for your victimhood rather than any sincere literary analysis. I’ve determined you’re a pedestrian mind and a pedestrian pet. I’ve concluded that I possess nothing of value by squireling you away forever. It’s just time to move on. But I leave you these words to remember our time together.
Roses are red. Violets are blue. Jane 2 is fucked. And so are you.
With that, Hatti could turn her head to see Jane 2’s still living and still horrifyingly mummified body and then several stacked rolls of tape. With one open, expansive, tear-filled eye, Hatti watched Elise return her terrified stare with a shark smile.
Approximately six months later, an inert and cruelly wrapped body dropped on the floor with the sand that surrounded it spilling out with it right by Elise’s high heels, interrupting the squeals of a terrified Bhavna. The remnants of Hatti’s ruined mind felt the hands on her body, and those remaining animal instincts knew what was coming. Bhavna had been replaced. And now, as Elise once predicted, she would finally experience the koi pond after all as its second permanent installation.
Years later, placed upon that very same basement floor, a nude Amanda Night was trapped in that same basement. She felt her effort waning as the minutes ticked by; futile struggles against the unyielding metal restraints only served to exhaust whatever strength was left in her. The cowbell remained firmly and maddeningly out of reach, a cruel symbol of her impossible task of escaping the metal's grasp.
As the hour mark steadily approached, Amanda's movements became more frantic and desperate as she knew the deadline was approaching. She thrashed against the fiddle and scavenger's daughter frame with renewed vigor, ignoring the pain shooting through her muscles and tendons as her writing exhausted her efforts. Pitiful whimpers escaped around her ball gag as tears streamed down her face.
But it was no use. The metal dug into Amanda's skin, chafing and bruising, but did not yield an. Amanda was wholly and utterly trapped, completely at Elise's nonexistent mercy. As she struggled, the deadline elapsed, and with its passing, Amanda collapsed in her bonds, physically and mentally spent.
Elise wasted no time as she heard the timer go off, and soon, her footsteps echoed as she descended into the dungeon once more. She smiled wickedly as she took in the beautiful vision of an exhausted, despairing captive.
"That is it? I thought you would be ringing that cowbell like there is no tomorrow. Unfortunately for you, there is. And let us get you ready for it. Starting with your hood."
Elise turned and retrieved the dreaded leather discipline helmet from its stand. She held it up, allowing Amanda to drink in every terrifying detail - the thick, suffocating leather, the pepper pot eye holes that would barely permit any light to pass through, the panel that would steal away her mouth even more than before.
"Hhhmmmgghh…" Amanda said, her widened eyes crazed with fear. She tried to pull away, but if nothing else in the last hour had proven to her that escape attempts would not be fruitful, she tried to plead her case verbally.
“Ngghhh…yggh dghhtnn…” Almost as if she were actually interested in this gibberish, Elise moved her hand down and started to undo the metal ball gag that had been causing such agony to Amanda's stretched jaw.
"T-thank you." Amanda insincerely tried to thank Elise for the momentary freedom, only to feel something jammed hard into her mouth. A latex, inflatable "butterfly gag" that resembled a phallus shaft except with two "testicles" that soon filled her cheeks, ballooning them to chipmunk-like proportions, and that was before Elise started to slowly squeeze the attached pump, filling Amanda's mouth and threatening her throat.
"Oh, spare your phony gratitude. You should know by now that if I am freeing your insolent mouth, it is only to fill it with something else. Usually worse! And believe me, once you feel this helmet envelop your pretty little empty head, I have no interest in hearing your screams of horror."
Amanda gurgled and gagged, spitting up a little around the intrusive phallus jammed partially down her throat as she tried to steel herself to keep from continuously gagging or vomiting, tears present in her tortured eyes.
With Amanda suitably silenced, Elise wasted no time giving the unsuccessful contestant her booby prize. As Amanda screamed into the gag, Elise started to force the oppressive hood over her neck. Even with loosened laces, the helmet was a tight fit over Amanda's neck. The metal collar did not allow the reality star much ability to resist as she felt the tight hood jerked down over her head and then felt it roughly, with much effort, pulled down her pleading face and over her well-packed mouth.
The reality star screamed into her gag, thrashing wildly as the thick leather encased her face. Elise took her time, savoring every whimper and cry as she tightened the laces, sealing Amanda into a lonely world of sensory deprivation.
With her head secured, Elise was eager to assess how helpless Amanda truly was. After retrieving the keys to the intense metal body prison holding the now-retired socialite, she allowed Amanda's now free body to slump towards the floor, the only 'bondage' remaining being the discipline helmet and gag. Elise waited as Amanda's adrenaline tried to rejuvenate her exhausted body. When the energy finally hit her, Amanda stood up. With her sight and hearing impaired by the hood, standing was quite a difficult task. She appeared clumsy, gangly, and graceless. She was far from owning the catwalk or red carpets as she tried to figure out where Elise was, shuffling around with her hand in front of her, her movements as awkward as a newborn deer fowl.
Suddenly, she took off and started running towards where she believed the door was, only to slam hard into the row of hidden compartments.
“HHHHHHHHHHhhhhhumMMFFFFFFFFFfffffFF!”
A loud crash was heard as Amanda nearly knocked herself out and collapsed to the floor in a heap, and Elise soon towered over her dizzy and confused form.
"Classic! If I didn't know better, I'd be worried you woke dear Kimmy up. How exciting to see you struggle alone when your Mommy's not here to make everything better for you."
With that, Elise easily held Amanda to the ground, despite Amanda's youthful strength advantage, due mainly to the effects of the prolonged confinement and the current lack of sensory input.
"Now you have a new matron figure in your life, and it is going to make your bitch mom-ager look like a walk in the park…" Elise said with a smile. "And I promised you special accommodations for the night…." Elise cooed.
With abject cruelty, Elise placed her foot on Amanda's now helmeted head as she could hear the sighs coming from her captive's muffled helmet. Meanwhile, Amanda was experiencing a jumble of incoherent and rattled thoughts bouncing around her mind like out-of-control rubber balls. There would be little point in trying to portray the terrified state of mind she currently finds herself in; even to Amanda, it is alien in nature. A lack of any true sight, muffled sound, and the exhausting, oppressive tightness of the discipline helmet triggered some unforeseen levels of anxiety that Amanda had never experienced before. If one could peek into her brain, her thoughts would be comparably intelligible to the muffled and smothered noises emanating from her mouth.
Elise continued to grind her heel into the leather-clad head of the discipline-helmeted reality star underfoot. With her so helpless and unable to mount any real resistance, it was about time that Amanda discovered Elise's talent for all sorts of restraint, including rope.
With Amanda thoroughly disoriented and subdued beneath her heel, Elise set about the task of further restraining her captive. She retrieved a soft yet strong nylon rope and began binding Amanda's arms carefully and methodically.
When she was done, Amanda's hands and upper arms were pinned behind her back in a tight takate kote tie, also known to Americans as a box tie. Amanda could barely hear as Elise tore off some white medical tape and wrapped Amanda's hands into useless, mitted fists, further cementing the rope bondage in place and making escape impossible. Amanda could only sob into the echoing discipline helmet as the phallic gag continued to stifle her attempts to speak.
"Ggghkkkk…Hunngghh…," approximated the animal-like noises emanating from her larynx as Elise continued restraining her captive. The beautiful chest harness that accompanied the tight arm bindings only surrounded and highlighted Amanda's beautiful, large, natural breasts.
"There, nice and taut. Hopefully, that should eliminate any pesky resistance from you. However, I think that helmet is likely enough to ensure you'll remain compliant, don't you think?"
Amanda couldn't answer, of course, with the inflatable butterfly gag painfully stretching her mouth as much as possible under the intense pressure of said hood. Amanda was instead trying to calm her mind as much as possible, with the sensory deprivation and brutal bondage continuing to drive her towards panic.
"You could still run away, of course. I haven't redone your legs. But we saw how your last efforts went. Do you think this would go any better?" Elise taunted maliciously.
Amanda, again, didn't respond. Instead, Elise made a disappointed noise as she grabbed Amanda and shifted her up off of her stomach to a bent-over position. Elise tried to imagine Amanda’s face under the discipline helmet as she was placed in a ‘doggy style’ position.
“I’m sure a slut like you is used to this position, Amanda. And without your distracting face, it’s about perfect.”
The rope started to loop around Amanda’s lower back and her upper hamstrings and then was cinched with more rope added, completing the humiliating doggy-style harness. Especially with her taped hands tied behind her and the chest harness, it created a perfect grabbing point to expose Amanda’s nether regions if one were so inclined.
But right now, Elise had more immediate and less carnal interests on her mind. She had promised Amanda a rough night, and soon, Amanda’s bare, cute feet captured her attention, so she, in turn, captured them. Her ankles were soon bound together with multiple turns of the white nylon rope in a way that didn’t interfere with her bound-over position. And then the finishing touch…the doggy style harness and the chest harness were attached to two cables that soon started to raise Amanda into the sky.
“NNNNNNNNngghh! HummmmrRRRF!” Amanda roared into the discipline helmet with no success as she felt herself being pulled into the air, dangling ropes still attached to her ankle until Elise secured them to the floor. After it was all done, Amanda remained suspended in the air in a doggy-style position. Amanda was left in her helmet-enforced isolation, not knowing what the plan was until the cool lube started to rub against both of her holes.
Oh God…she can’t…” Amanda thought, somehow managing to piece together enough coherent thoughts. Turns out she was wrong. Elise could. And she would. This realization was punctuated with two latex-gloved fingers slowly pressed up into her rectum.
“HHHHHHHHHHHHHhhnnngggGGHH!”
“Ah, perfection. Just like normal for the Nights, they accept their debasement with little resistance.” Elise observed. Amanda could barely hear through the helmet as Elise set up two separate fucking machines. But she certainly could start to feel the rubber invaders pressing into both of their holes, alternating its thrusting pattern.
The animalistic grunts that accompanied this rape, somehow worsened by her sudden and unwanted detour into near-total sensory deprivation, filled the room.
“HunnnnHHHH! NNNNnnggghHH!” Amanda screamed as her anus and her vagina took turns welcoming the well-lubed interlopers into her holes. She could feel the stretching to accept the invasion despite her best efforts to repel them as she slowly rocked in her bondage.
“Amanda, I hope I don’t need to tell you what would happen if you knocked either of those devices over. Let’s say that if you want any hope of being out of that helmet for the next week, I better come down here in a few hours to still hear you being railed. Do you understand?”
Amanda failed to respond, but Elise didn’t need a reply. She was sure Amanda was comfortable enough with full holes to avoid a week in the hood. In a monkey’s paw-type moment, Elise knew that hood was one of the milder torments Amanda would soon face.
With that, Elise walked upstairs, leaving the grunts behind her. As loud and visceral as they were, they would not pierce the soundproofing of the basement. Nor would Elise’s shouts of anger when she received the long-awaited phone call from her agent about the fate of her beloved soap opera.
INTERLUDE
Cassidy O’Connor was far from comfortable in a nightclub. The cop was a tomboy through and through that was more at home at an Irish pub than anywhere with pulsing music and intense lighting. Even the thought of entering one gave her a splitting headache, and this aversion was reinforced when she steeled herself and entered one. Despite her attempts to look masculine, the detective’s undeniably attractive looks and badge ensured a quick entry to the premises. Trying to mask her anxiety, Cassidy scoured the room for a sign of her target. And eventually did, seeing the unmistakable shape of Kamille DeVine, entertaining some local lowlifes.
“Devine!” Cassidy shouted over the loudspeakers to no reaction at first. Cassidy couldn’t tell whether that was from a lack of hearing or interest. However, as she approached, Kamille did entertain her presence with a pronounced and prolonged eye-roll.
“Deputy Do-Wrong…” Kamille said with a smile. Cassidy didn’t need to spend any time in Narcotics to know Kamille had been imbibing something tonight.
“Listen, Kamille. I know you’ve been poking around the Night case, and I don’t like it. One bit. You think you can share what you know with law enforcement?”
Devine responded by turning away from Cassidy in disgust and looking at the men. The ex-fitness model was a vision of physical perfection in the green dress, which was accented by her dark, beautiful skin.
“Excuse me, boys. I need to find a creative way to tell this bitch to fuck off.”
“Listen, I’m not coming out of admiration. I’m here because I’m starting to poke around, and I’m guessing the Night ‘organization’ may be hiding some things from me. Which, if they’ve decided to pay your fees, is almost a guarantee. So how about we step outside and talk, or maybe I’ll have to run you downtown.”
“Oh, hun,” Kamille said with dripping contempt. “Like always, what you don’t know could fill the Grand Fricking Canyon. Why don’t you just let us private sector folks handle the things you government lickspittles can’t? Or is it just that important to you to impress your dead daddy?”
O’Connor couldn’t help herself and decked Kamille in her smug, taunting face. She prepared herself for a fight with the imposing private eye, but Kamille laughed.
“Shoulda stayed out of it, Irish. Now I’ve got a favor to call in with one of your bosses and about ten cameras who saw you assault a private citizen just trying to get laid.”
Kamille stood, brushed herself off, and whispered in O’Connor’s ear. “Turns out you’re the one who’s going to get off my case, you sanctimonious cunt.”
Cassidy stormed out of the insipid club, angry at herself for letting her emotions get the better of her. She knew that her problems were just starting and was really starting to wish she had never heard the name Amanda Night.