[DeepInnerFreak]

The Lake House

Chapter Seven

Bethany rolls her naked body and slumps against the wall, checking the person standing in the doorway is who she thinks it is. She squints her eyes and tilts her head. “Chloë?”

The blonde girl, now showered, dressed in blue jeans and a long grey hoodie looks down, smiling at the mud covered girl in the basement.

Bethany’s forehead wrinkles, her eyes darting as she tries to understand what is going on. Her mind fills with a hundred questions as she looks up at the clean, clothed girl. “Where is the man? Help me out of here”.

“Oh poor, poor stupid bitch, there’s no man”.

Bethany feels even more confused, “Wait, what?” She tries to piece everything together. “But we were being chased?”

“No, no we weren’t. Dumb whore. I wasn’t sure the plan would work, but it’s a good thing the whore is such a gullible, brain dead bimbo”.

“Plan? What plan? What’s going on? Stop talking to me like that”.

“The whore better shut its fucking mouth”.

Bethany screams, her body tenses as she is jolted sharply from the collar, “Agghhh”. As she recovers she sees Chloë’s trainers beside her before looking up confused. “What the fuck is going on?”

Another shock is delivered to her neck. Her screeches fill the basement like a pig being branded as she claws at the collar around her neck.

“I said shut up, dumb slut”.

The insults are too much for Bethany to take. She looks up at Chloë, pressing herself against the wall. Her nostrils flare and her eyes pull close together. She pulls herself up feeling her jaw tense as the need to lash out and swipe at the girl with her tied hands takes over.

Chloë steps back from the short-lived attack, before Bethany is once again dragged to her knees by her body, howling in pain with her fingers grasping at the collar.

“Don’t you even think about it, fucking whore”. Chloë hissed, her face pressed up against Bethany’s as the restrained girl realises there is nothing she can do.

“All the bitch needs to know is its a stupid, brain dead waste-of-space whore and if it wants the shocks to stop, it’ll do as it’s fucking told like the filthy fucking bitch it is”.

Bethany glazes over. Leaning back up against the wall she purchases her skin between her finger and thumb before she feels an almighty force slap her across the face.

“Stop pinching, dumb fuck. It’s not a dream. This is the life the whore will live now”.

“What the fuck did I ever do to this girl to make her treat me like this?” Bethany thinks to herself as she leans herself up, trying to nurse the side of her face”.

“The bitch won’t speak, it won't make a noise, it won't eat, piss, or shit unless I say that it can. Is that clear, bitch?”

Bethany nods her head, her mind still trying to piece together what the hell is going on.

“Thirsty, slut?”

“Thirsty? Water? Yes”, she thinks to herself, nodding her head.

“Go drink then, dumb fuck”.

Bethany looks up to see Chloë pointing to the other side of the room. She sees the plastic container she discovered in the dark earlier.

Bethany struggles to stand up, but eventually starts shuffling towards the tank, her restrained feet not allowing for much of a step. The tank is a frosted white, hard plastic tank. It has a large round red screw on lid, two red handles either side and a red tap. It's encased within a black metal frame, raised off the ground about six inches. Along the same wall as the tank, opposite the door is a huge wooden cross. It has a wide platform at the bottom and metal shackles.

She lowers herself down and sees the tap has been modified with a one-way nozzle. She lays on her back, squeezing her lips around the small metal tube as she presses her tongue against the metal ball bearing allowing the water to flow. Bethany laps desperately, the water not flowing quickly enough for her to satisfy her need.

“Move, and I will shock the whore until it's unconscious. Understand?”

Bethany hears Chloë’s threatening words and nods as she eagerly sucks at the tube. She feels her hands being moved and then the sound of a snap. She looks down at her naked body to see her hands are now free.

“Don’t even think about it, whore. One sudden movement and I swear to god”.

Bethany thinks for a split second as she sees several leather straps with buckles being produced. “Now might be the only chance I have to get out of here, but it’s no use. I won’t even get to the door before I’m zapped”. She watches as Chloë straps her forearm to her upper arm tightly, her hand now hovering next to her face. The same is repeated with her other limb, rendering her hands completely useless. She feels some movement on her collar before Chloë tugs firmly.

“Stand up bitch”.

Bethany rolls onto her front, using her elbows to lean on as she pulls herself up. Standing in front of her is Chloë holding a dog baton that has been clipped to her collar. Chloë bends down and cuts the ties around her captives' ankles before striding to the ladders. Bethany feels the pull of the stick, forcing her to follow behind.

“Stay here, whore”.

Bethany watches her kidnapper climbing up the ladder, baton in hand. “Maybe I could pull on the stick hard, make her fall. Or kick the ladder away from her”. Bethany’s mind is racing a hundred miles an hour of what she can do to escape but decides she wouldn’t be able to use the ladders to get out anyway, not with her hands imobile.

“Get up here bitch”, Chloë orders, as she pulls on the stick encouraging Bethany up.

Bethany places a bare foot on the bottom rung. The last time she did this she was in fear for her life and wasn’t focused on how much the thin metal hurts against her foot. With no way to hold herself steady she relies on Chloë’s force on her collar to hold her body stable as she leans into the ladder and up the next rung.

“On your knees, like a bitch”.

Bethany’s knee comes into line with the doorframe of the floor above. She kneels in front of Chloë who straps her shins to her thighs.

“Lick”.

Bethany looks at the toy in Chloë’s hands in front of her. “Shitting hell”, thinks Bethany as she takes the plug end of the dog tail into her mouth, slobbering on it, understanding where it’s going. She feels Chloë pull her naked cheeks apart, the cool night air hitting her tight hole before relaxing against the toy, knowing she had no chance of fighting it.

“There we go, a proper little bitch now”, Chloë mocks, as she pulls Bethany on all fours, using her knees and elbows as new hands and feet.

“She’s actually a fucking psychopath” Bethany thinks to herself as she is led out of the house naked on all fours, her tail swaying in the night breeze.

They walk in silence for a few minutes before Chloë comes to stop in the woods.

“Time for the bitch’s nightly piss”.

Bethany’s nostrils flared again. “I’m going to get this fucking bitch back if it’s the last thing I do”, she thinks to herself hating that someone so pathetic could be doing this to her.

“Come on, filthy whore, I don’t have all night. Or does it want to wait until tomorrow?”.

Bethany hadn’t relieved herself since they stopped at the services earlier that day. She spread her legs open and was about to start before Chloë stopped her.

“No, no. Like a fucking dog. Against a tree”.

“As if it couldn’t get any more degrading” she thought before taking a couple of steps forward, lined her butt up with the trunk of oak beside her and cocked her leg up, letting the stream start.

“There’s a good little bitch”, Chloë cheered mockingly from behind. Bethany could feel her eyes on her.

They make their way back to the house. Bethany’s legs unbuckled and they lowered themselves down the ladder and to the basement. Chloë pulled Bethany to a chain attached to a hook in the wall and clipped the chain to her collar.

Bethany watched as Chloë disappeared out of the basement. “I still don’t understand what I did to her? What the fuck did I do to deserve this. I’m filthy, it’s gross, I need a shower”.

As Bethany thought about her situation, Chloë returned with a box and made her way over to the items in the middle of the room covered by the blanket. She placed the box down and pulled the blanket away revealing a terrifying sight.