To her shame, slightly aroused

Despite all of the horrific things that had transpired, Velma felt absolutely shocked to realize just how turned on her body was becoming over the entire situation. She hoped and prayed that the feeling was just because of the intrusive device that had violently **** her into orgasm twice over, but the more she began to dwell on the image of the collar with her name on it and the prospect of it being wrapped around her neck, the more she felt incredibly hot and bothered inside her soaked turtleneck and already ruined panties. She stood there, silently at war with herself, disgusted that she could possibly find herself aroused by the idea of being collared and broken into being a submissive pet to some horrible sadistic man who was currently likely watching her stumble through this place, humiliating and degraded herself for his sick pleasure. And yet, she was getting all the more enticed by the idea. She had never really gotten much in the way of romantic advances, sexual or otherwise and she was unable to deny it to herself that she very much appreciated that someone was interested enough in her to want her as their property. What was wrong with her? She felt she actually had to fight to keep a slight smile off her face.

She tried to focus and felt that she had to keep going, just because she was a little aroused at her predicament didn’t meant she actually had any intention of allowing herself to be collared and possessed by some rich psycho in his house of horrors, besides there was Daphne to consider. Velma looked around the room for any clues, a map, anything useful. More troubling then anything, was the notion that she had really gotten nowhere with the room. She had to hope there was some sort of clue hidden within the room. The alternative was heading back through the puzzle room or even the corridor with the riding crops. Velma refused to accept that all was all there was to find here were photos of herself taken by her creepy captor.

She must have missed something. She was sure of it. Short of the rather agonizing prospect of going through every one of those photos one by one; she had to guess there were several hundred littered about the small darkroom, she had a burning feeling in her gut that there was something more to room. It wouldn’t have been walled off behind such an invasive obstacle such as the puzzle boxes if this was all there was to it. She was a detective for crying out loud and a pretty decent one if she did say so herself. There was definitely something here and she just needed to figure out where it was hiding. She tried to imagine what it could be, maybe a key to a door deeper within the mansion or a hidden passageway; that would really be useful. She sifted through the photos on the table, the desk and the walls but there was nothing. She tried the lamp, hoping for a hidden switch or something. Nothing.

She was on the verge of giving up hope when she had the slightest inclination to look under the desk. Maybe it was just because it was the only place she hadn’t checked yet, but she felt all too ready to get down on her hands and knees and crawl underneath the large wooden structure. Velma brushed photos of herself out of the way as she curled up underneath the desk and felt around for anything that wasn’t a Polaroid. There it was. On the underside of the wood, in the corner near the wall was exactly what she was looking for, something she somehow knew would be there. She felt around in the shadows and felt it.