Down into the depths of the Mansion

Velma was absolutely terrified. Stuck crawling on all fours, blinded, caged and completely unable to defend herself, she was certain she had never been this helpless in her life. She felt herself succumbing to a full on panic attack and tried to search for some shred of logic and reason to hold onto with whatever willpower she had left. The sound wasn’t helping her in the slightest; the grinding of stone against stone echoed around her tiny jail and caused a ringing in her ears. If the fear didn’t break her, perhaps the maddening noise would.

She reached out in front of her, feeling just past the bars for the wall beyond. She felt what she was pretty sure was stone or concrete sliding slowly upwards against her fingers. That meant she was moving down. She didn’t know what she could do with that information at the moment but it was something, a piece of knowledge she could focus on and try not to lose herself to her own growing terror. If she was moving downward, then maybe she was headed towards a dungeon or prison cell or maybe even the secret underground lair of her captor. While the idea sent a tiny wave of panic through her shaking body, she **** herself to admit it would provide her with much more information than just roaming haphazardly around the estate, blundering into trap after trap and getting nowhere for her troubles. Velma figured she would find out soon enough and tried to curl herself up into a ball, feel quite dizzy from the shaking of the platform as it descended into the lower reaches of the mansion.

She wasn’t focused enough to keep accurate track of time but she guessed she had been slowly descending for several minutes before the oppressive sound finally hollowed out. Velma uncurled herself but was still unable to see anything. She slid a hand out of her cage and felt open space. She guessed she had come out of the chute and into some sort of open chamber. The sound of her prison descending echoed around the walls but the dulled grinding was pleasant compared to the cramped confines of the vertical shaft. Velma jumped as she felt her prison come to a sudden halt. She whipped her head around the abyss; sure there would be some sort of horrible attack on her prone and helpless form. None came and she only heard her own breath in the chamber for a few seconds before a small click and a beep in front of her. She looked ahead and saw a screen, some sort of television or computer monitor. It had turned on and emitted a soft black light that felt blinding to her darkness-acclimated eyes. She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, trying hard to focus on the screen. There was a small green curser at the top of the screen and she watched it in apprehension as it began to move. Someone was typing a message directly to her that it was still hard to read. The letters were blurred and she wished she hadn’t spent the past half hour or so in total stygian darkness. She blinked several times through her spectacles until the words became readable.

Welcome… You came here to rescue your friend. But you haven’t been very successful thus far have you? You’ve only managed to get yourself into one compromising position after another. Are you still willing to continue or are you too broken to go on? How far are you willing to go to save Daphne Blake?

Velma turned the words over in her head. She felt quite helpless in her current, caged state, and while she wasn’t surprised that her captor had been monitoring her progress, her will power was slowly being ebbed away by the fact that her tormentor was right. She had absolutely nothing to so for her efforts. She had been beaten, tangled and scratched, left helpless in an abyssal darkness and was now confined I a space she couldn’t even sit up in. She felt so stupid as she had so easily fallen right into the machinations of the estate, and that she had likely done so with the evil mastermind watching her every blunder, and enjoying her every moment of suffering and humiliation. She felt her face flush; hoping the soft light from the monitor screen was not enough for her captor to see, as she was now beyond certain she was being observed at this very moment.

She saw no keyboard with which to type a response, nor was there any sort of onscreen prompt for her to touch the screen either. A moment later, the words disappeared and to Velma’s horror, the screen began to display footage from another camera somewhere in the mansion. What she saw pushed her to the edge of her sanity.

There was Daphne, naked and secured with her arms secured behind her back with leather restraints. Her hair was bound in a single braid and pulled towards the ceiling by a cable, forcing her to face the camera. A ball gag kept her from screaming or crying out, and in a mocking display it was the same shade of her green scarf. It matched a collar that tightly wound around her neck. She was in complete agony and tears streamed down her face, which still had traces of her now very ruined makeup. Velma **** herself to deny that she looked very much like a beaten whore. She was in some sort of stockade that **** her into a bent over position as sexual devices assaulted her from all angles.

Velma nearly collapsed in her cage as she watched a pair of dildos piston in and out of Daphne’s pussy, her legs **** apart by a spreader bar with metal cuffs holding her ankles. A pair of circular columns that moved too fast for the low-quality security camera to decipher rotated on either side of Daphne, causing her ass to be repeatedly bludgeoned with what Velma assumed her crops or some sort of rod. She didn’t need an introduction to the device herself, she was already quite familiar with the concept. The camera cut to another angle and Velma realized Daphne was being filmed from several angles around what looked like a dungeon.

This new angle showed her breasts being pulled by small weights hung form her nipples by little metal clamps. She felt so embarrassed for herself and her friend as she was **** to watch Daphne be abused in such a way. It felt so candid, so wrong. She hoped Daphne hadn’t been **** to watch her as she had blundered through the house, losing clothing and pride bit by bit. Like herself, Daphne probably had no idea she was being filmed. The camera cut one last time to a shot behind Daphne and this one made Velma scream with what little energy she had left. From the front and even from the side, it appeared the two large didoes were pumping away at Daphne’s poor helpless pussy. Now, Velma could see that the second toy was clearly violating her poor friend’s other, more private orifice. She began to weep, curling up on the ground, her face in her forearms as the screen finally shut off. She barely noticed that text had appeared in wake of the video.

Now you see just how helpless your friend is. There is no chance of escape, for either her or yourself. The most you can possibly do for her now is to try and lessen her suffering, by taking on some of her burden yourself. The more you willingly subject yourself to, the less torment I will put her through. But the choice of how much is entirely up to you. Are you willing to “Help” your little friend?

It was a few minutes before Velma raised her head and when she did, she found it quite hard to breath. She was **** on the words as she read them, feeling more conflicted then she ever had been in her life. She was already at her whit’s end and now she was being asked to choose to suffer more for the sake of her friend. There was some part of her trying to urge her to take up the challenge, to do whatever she could to ease Daphne’s agony. The rest of her replayed what she had already been through over and over in her head and begged her to leave Daphne to her fate. Sure, the whipping and the roses were bad, but this was on another level, several other levels, in fact. And there was a third little voice in her head speculating that even if she agreed to share Daphne’s **** with her, would it even matter? The unseen mastermind had already stated escape was hopeless and Velma could just be surrendering what little control over herself she had left. She drew her knees up against her chest, trying to sort out her thoughts and figure out how to endure this new horrific challenge.