Humiliated, Defeated and Helpless.

Velma had been in countless bad situations over the years, it came with the territory of blindly stumbling into mysteries without considering one’s health and well-being. That pretty much summed up how prepared she and the rest of the gang usually were to try and get to the bottom of nearly every case they more or less happened upon without warning. But this was on a whole other level of being totally screwed. She was beyond the reach of the rest of her friends and she was only now beginning to comprehend of the scope of the invisible kidnapper’s grand designs on her for tonight. Simply put, nothing she had ever been through in her life even came close to this.

Velma collapsed against the wall and drew her knees up to her chest and hung her head in hopeless resignation. She had made it an incredible grand total of 4 rooms into the house and already it felt like hours. How could she possibly contend with this place, or its unseen master, who was apparently hyper focused on bringing her to heel within these walls? The short answer, or rather the only one she could fathom was that she couldn’t. There was just no way. If every last room was as harrowing as the challenges she faced thus far she was certain it was only going to get worse from here on in.

She also felt dirty and violated. The **** orgasm had stolen from her a sense of personal security. Being betrayed by her own body like that carried a humiliation that burred deep inside her. She was disgusted with herself. Sure there was some sort of argument to be made that it wasn’t exactly her fault but she still couldn’t push away a growing emptiness that was threatening to consume her. It was a sudden and traumatic loss of pride and self-respect that she wasn’t exactly sure if she could possibly ever reclaim, even if she managed to escape, even if she managed to find and free Daphne. Hell, even if she managed to somehow, in the million-to-one odds catch the culprit, she doubted she would ever feel the same way about herself ever again. She had never felt so uncomfortable inside her own skin before, instead there was a small but growing sense of self-loathing for her body’s failure. She felt dirty, even slutty. How could she look at herself in the mirror from now on?

Aside from the layers of trauma that came with the sexual torment, there was also of course the fact that she had completely botched this investigation and rescue attempt to high heaven. She was supposed to be a professional for crying out loud and a damn good one if her track record was anything to go by. And here she was being led around like a show pony being put through its paces, or a lab rat being **** along its maze for the amusement of its keepers. She was beginning to feel less and less human by the minute and more like some sort of pet or possession. Wasn’t that exactly what the sick twisted owner of this place wanted, after all?

So, faced with all of these revelations, what exactly was she to do? She pressed her brow into her forearms and tried to determine the best and least agonizing path before her. Retreat was not an option although she desperately wished it was. Those gates were more than likely locked and she doubted her captor would let her waltz out the front door in any case. She was trapped. She could try and beg for mercy, throw in the towel and give up, but where would that really get her. It wasn’t likely that after going through all this trouble, her captor would simply allow her to walk once she raised the white flag. No, that would only result in what little freedom and ability of choice she had left being stripped away. The only logical option really was to keep going, to press on and hope she could actually beat this game. She had to trust in herself and believe her opponent had made some sort of error, somewhere along the way and that she had to knowledge and skills to find and exploit it.

Her mind made up, Velma got to her feet, took a deep breath and hardened her resolve. She was fairly certain that the room she was in was just a red herring, a room to taunt her with these candid photos of herself, to whittle down her confidence and throw her even more off her game. She couldn’t let that happen anymore than it already had. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the small dark room and through the puzzle room. She felt confident and invigorated as she marched down the corridor with the marble columns with purpose. Of course she had completely forgotten the rotating crops and by the time she reached the end, she was rubbing her even more sore and pink ass and already berating herself internally that she allowed herself to get beaten again.

Cursing under her breath, she scanned the entrance hall and chose the door immediately to her right by the stairs, second from the left of the front door. She walked with slightly less vigor then before as her hand still massaged the light welts on her ass and she grabbed the doorknob and turned it. The room that opened up looked like a walk-in closet. It was maybe a little smaller than the photo room and surrounded on all sides by cabinets and dressers and another door that looked like another closet. She hoped they would open up to find some sort of clue but it was very dark, even with the light from the entrance hall. She rummaged through the drawers, hoping to find something of use. Lucky for her, she did remember to bring a flash light. She found nothing and all that was left was the closet. She opened the folding French doors and peered inside, there was nothing but a light switch and she stepped inside to grab it. Hopefully this was a secret passageway, the answer hiding in plain sight. She pulled the switch and to her delight, she begins to move and shudders with anticipation. She was finally feeling she was getting somewhere.