Lost in the cave, Velma is attacked while at her weakest:

Velma had been crawling on the cold ground of the cave for several minutes, mostly on three limbs. She kept reaching out with one hand trying to feel her way along the tunnel. Her eyes had begun to hurt the more she tried to squint and sharpen her vision so she quickly gave up and just kept her eyes closed. Now literally without sight, she left the tunnel into a much more open space and haplessly clawed around for some sort of object, any indicator that might help her get an indication on her surroundings. She had lost her bearings and likely wouldn’t be able to find her way back to the tunnel she came out of. She hoped a current of wind or a noise would at least give her a point of reference but thus far, the cave seemed devoid of sound.

Velma was now firmly convinced she had made the wrong choice of abandoning her glasses. She had prayed that once she got to the end of the tunnel, she would be able to make some sort of progress, find a way out of the cave and onto more solid ground. So far things hadn’t worked out that well. Crap. Velma was considering whether she could try and go back and retrace her steps to the pool but the uneven footing made her feel like she hadn’t been able to travel in a straight line since coming out of the tunnel. Despite her best efforts, she realized she could have totally veered off course. Finding her way back to the tunnel from which she had come would be strenuous enough. Assuming she didn’t end up going down a different tunnel altogether and getting even more hopelessly lost. She decided to risk opening her eyes and tried to make out the larger open cave area but she couldn’t make out any details, just more turquoise blurs. As she closed her eyes again to reduce the strain, Velma’s head perked up as she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps somewhere ahead of her, the first signs of life since she crawled miserably out of the pool.

“Hello? Who’s there? Daphne is that you?” She sounded even weakened then she felt.

Somewhere in Velma’s brain, she heard a voice admonishing her for thinking anyone who would be down here would likely be willing to help her and if it was Daphne, she would have said something long before Velma decided to call out to her. Velma dared to open her eyes again but it was pointless. She couldn’t even tell the ground from the walls with the disorienting blue-green light of the cave and the best she could do was make out a dark blur slowly drawing near. Panic set and she fought to get back up to her feet but the ground and her inability to see fought with her every step of the way. By the time she managed to stand up mostly straight, the figure was already on top of her. A hand that felt clad in leather or vinyl grabbed the back of Velma’s neck and easily **** her back down to the rough ground.

“Please just stop and let me go. . . Please.” Velma whimpered.

The poor helpless girl squirmed aimlessly, lacking the strength to cry out. Her limbs were tried from crawling and she was so dizzy and unfocused she worried she might just pass out altogether. She heard quiet breathing. A hand was pinning her face to the ground and Velma felt another gently running along the length of her back, resting for a moment on her ass. Velma froze, unsure of what was going to happen next and a single finger began to run between her ass cheeks, gently teasing her body. Velma had to fight back tears of fear and humiliation as she felt powerless to prevent the unseen figure’s hands from doing what they pleased with her. Velma did the only thing she had enough energy to do. She simply keeled over and tried to curl herself into a tight ball, shivering on the cold rocky ground of the cavern. The hand released her neck and also began to run delicately over her body. Velma’s chin was tucked into her chest and she was too **** to remain as she was that she didn’t dare try and spare a glance at her attacker. She began to breathe faster as the person’s hands began to more intimately examine her curves, gently sliding between her legs while stroking her hair. The nonviolent manner of the figure’s touch was somehow even more unsettling then if they had violently ripped her clothing off by ****.

Speaking of which, as Velma clawed at her skirt, to keep it down and covering her unmentionables, the hands grabbed her sweater and easily managed to peel it off Velma’s still damp body. At least that stopped the molesting hands but now the girl was virtually naked. Her skirt wasn’t really that effective at covering her rather round ass and before Velma could count any blessings she felt the leather-clad hand strike her exposed flesh. She yelped, louder then she thought she could have managed by that point and once again, tried to curl up onto her protective ball. However the attacker grabbed her by the hair and rolled her back onto all fours. Velma took the cue and tried to scramble away but her skirt was seized and she lost her balance trying to wriggle free of it. She gasped as the icy ground touched her belly and the momentary shock left her frozen as her skirt was taken off her form and discarded to the cave floor. Velma thought she had been through quite enough already but now things had fallen to an entirely new low. Trapped blind on the floor of some cave with an invisible attacker and now down to her still very soaked through undergarments, she couldn’t imagine how things could get much worse.