S-ENF-013 - DARED

Item #: S-ENF-013
Object Designation: Dared

Thelma crept through the vaults, heart pounding, ears alert for any sign of movement. It was dark down here, at midnight, on the lowest floor of the Foundation's highest-security storage zone.

Here was where they kept all the really creepy, Ishtar-level threats to female dignity. Some of them had been down there so long that nobody knew their names. Thelma shivered, raising her flashlight high, looking at the closest containment cell.

Something thumped against the glass. A tentacle.

Thelma yelped, and jumped back. The tentacle flattened itself against the glass, slime dripping from its coils as it caressed the smooth surface. It was reaching for her. Grasping. It wanted to touch her. She could almost feel it, coiling around her body, warm and wet and gooey and relentless...

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Of course, as long as all the cells remained closed, she was perfectly safe. She had almost managed to convince herself to calm down when a voice from behind her, eerily calm, said "Thelma..."

Thelma shrieked, and spun around. A clown! Thelma hated clowns, even sexy lady Harley Quinn-style clowns like this one was. And did she have to be licking the glass quite so... lasciviously?

"Come and play, Thelma..."

"No!" said Thelma, backing away. She scampered down the corridors, past one tank packed of drifting feathers and another that seemed to be half-full of pink slime, past grasping gloves and clattering clothespins, past a single green Lego brick sitting quietly by itself in the middle of the floor. The taunting voices followed her, lingering in her ears.

"Play with us, Thelma..."

"Let us make you naked, Thelma..."

"Are you wearing panties, Thelma? I want to taste your shame..."

Why on earth had she let Officer Song dare her to come down here at night? Thelma found a solid wall, and tried to steady herself. It was just a few creepy voices. She was in no real danger. Perfectly ordinary hazing ritual, all the new girls had to do it. Anyway, she could leave any time she liked.

The exit door was just over there. Surely she'd been in here long enough, right?

Thelma hesitated, hoping she wouldn't seem like too much of a coward if she ran away now. But the dare had only been to spend fifteen minutes on the lowest floor. Surely it had been long enough. Thelma closed her eyes and counted to ten, as slowly as she dared, trying to ignore the teasing voices and sounds of faint laughter just on the edge of her hearing.

She reached out, and took hold of the door handle.

She tried to turn it. It wouldn't budge.

She pulled the handle as hard as she could. No motion.

The door was locked.

Was it supposed to be locked?

Okay. She'd been pranked. Happened all the time. Just some normal, fun, light hazing. But Carol had to let her out eventually. And she was perfectly safe down here. It wasn't like containment would just fail all by itself...

She heard a creak. And a hiss of air. Like the sound of the door to an airtight compartment unlocking.

And a voice by her ear said "Hello, Thelma...", as a warm, supple hand took hold of her bottom and squeezed.

"Not bad," said Dr. Blithe, eating popcorn and watching the monitors with interest. A big switch marked RELEASE ALL sat right next to the gigantic television screen. Carol Song, stripped down to her black underwear and duct-taped to the chair beside him, said something rude into her gag, but the words were fortunately muffled. "That'll teach her to put her coffee mug down on my desk."