The Collar from the picture

As soon as her hand brushed the cool firm leather she was greeted by the soft jingle of metal and she instantly knew what it was. She wrapped her hand around it and pulled. The sound of tape ripping followed and soon she was staring at the very same collar that she had assembled in the tile puzzle. Black double banded leather with three rings and a nameplate on the front. The polished steel face had actually been carved into; the letters of her name were made of inlaid dyed orange leather, the particular shade of which being a perfect match to her sweater. For the second time, she was revolted to realize that she actually appreciated the attention to detail her invisible tormentor had taken. Besides, it was rather pretty. Creepy or not she couldn’t deny that much.

In that moment she froze, her entire body quivering. As she had allowed herself a moment of brief appreciation for the collar, she only now noticed that she had, almost instinctively begin to raise the collar to her own throat. The back of the leather was actually inches from her neck and she dropped it to the floor, more in shock of herself then the object. She could barely reason with herself as to why she would even do such a thing, consider putting on the collar when she was trapped in this place and being subjected to horrible **** like this. The worst part was that as she wracked her brain for answers, the only one that kept cropping up and made a shred of sense inside her was the chilling notion that ‘It felt right.’ Her skin crawled as she felt a tingle throughout her body, no doubt caused by the lingering effects of the **** orgasm but she realized there was a very tiny part of her that definitely felt like putting the collar on was the right thing to do.

"Jinkies! What the heck is happening to me?"

She hoped to anyone who would bother answering her prayers that the distinct wetness between her legs was only because of the puzzle vibrator. To seriously consider any other option would break what was left of her dwindling sanity.

She also pondered on the likelihood that Daphne had also been subjugated to this house of sexual horrors and she could only imagine just how helpless and terrified her friend must have felt. Worst still, Velma tried not to imagine where when and how Daphne finally managed to break. Clearly she never made it out of here and while Velma felt certain Daphne was being held captive and there for was probably more or less "Okay" by the loosest definition of the term, it seemed evident that she had been felled by the devices within the house. Maybe even ones that Velma herself might sooner or later run into. Also she wondered whether she would have any more success then Daphne did at making it out of here.

She gave herself a moment to calm down and knelt to pick up the collar. She would take it with her because she just felt like she should. It had been hidden and she had found it. That made it a clue and clues were always useful. She stuffed the collar into the pocket of her sweater and decided that this hidden photo room had given up all of its secrets.

She went back into the puzzle room and regarded the jigsaw puzzle. If it was anything like the slide puzzle, she knew she could likely handle it but she also cast a glance back down the marble column corridor. The whipping had been painful but she had already endured it and she felt confident she could go through it again. She had no idea what the new machine might do to her and maybe dealing with something she had already experienced was better than gambling on the unknown. Then again after she got through the marble corridor, she would be **** to explore the entire rest of the mansion she had already bypassed the first time; so she would be dealing with the unknown either way. Also, it would make what little progress she had made thus far feel absolutely futile and she didn’t want everything she had suffered through already to be for nothing.