[DeepInnerFreak]

The Lake House

Chapter Eleven

Bethany’s day started in the same way that she had become used to in her new life–naked, restrained, tired, tortured–her body ached throughout and her energy sapped. There wasn’t one thing she could concentrate on–not because her mind was running at a million miles per hour–but because it was sluggish and the constant dripping from the bucket ensured any thoughts were brief.

“How the fuck do I get out of this”, had been the topic of debate in Bethany’s head overnight, the answer, always the same; a cold drip of melted ice mixed with her drool and urine landed on the same spot on her forehead, breaking any concentration she may have had, only for the process to start all over again. It was literally sending Bethany insane. She swore at one point the walls were whispering to her and that she shared the room with a five headed snake with each head taking it in turns, biting the drips off her brow. The concoction that had now coated most of her face and run into her hair had come to a stop a short time ago. Now her aching, stiffened, cramping body was the source of her inability to think or sleep.

Chloë, who as usual greeted Bethany like Little Miss fucking Sunshine arrived smiling, looking clean, well fed and well rested. After the ceremonial collar zapping that seemed to transpire regardless of Bethany’s disposition, she was thrilled to announce that Bethany would be able to "take her morning piss in the woods like the little bitch she was"–as if it were some kind of fucking treat.

Once the humiliating routines of taking a morning piss and shit–with no toilet paper–and eating her puppy breakfast off the dirty concrete floor had concluded–all to the chorus of “what a clever little bitch, whore, slut" etcetera, Bethany was to endure her next round of torture. Frail and hazy, she found herself once again, chained to the wall looking on as Chloë set up her next ordeal.

Eight identical, thick, unlighted, white candles were secured to the bench with one end facing the door. Bethany was positioned at the opposite end, hands tied behind her back with a metal pole fastened to ensure she couldn’t bend. Her ankles were tied to a short rope connected to the middle strut of the bench, meaning she could walk either side but not raise her feet in a meaningful way. She also had a thin string tethered around her waist which ran just above the candles feeding into a winch. This in turn led up to another winch which was secured to two huge bags of building cement which hung from the ceiling. Bethany was just about able to take the strain of the weight of the heavy sacks and was instructed to do so. Also attached to the two bags were a set of strings all fastened to the sharp metal alligator clips Bethany had been introduced to yesterday.

“Because the whore has been well behaved today, I have decided to keep the rubber coatings on the clips” Chloë said as she started clamping the angry alligator clips to her captives naked body. One on each nipple, four on her breasts and five running down each side of her torso. Small whimpers escaped Bethany’s mouth as the teeth clamped around her tender tissue slowly turning into grunts as she took the extent of the pain..

Bethany looked at the situation, her eyes half closed and her weary brain unable to determine the purpose. All she knew were the clamps fucking hurt as they dug into her soft, delicate skin and she desperately needed sleep.

“In a minute I am going to light those candles, make it all nice and pretty in here”. Chloë began the explanation. “After a few minutes at least one of the candles will eventually burn through the rope that is around the whores waist, meaning the strain of the concrete sacks will only be on the strings connected to the whores filthy body”.

Bethany re-assessed the situation. “Fuck” she thought. Now she understood.

“I shouldn’t need to tell the whore that should the sacks fall, these little clips will come flying off its filthy body”.

Bethany had already worked that much out, but she wasn’t ready for the punchline.

“But because I’m kind, I’ll allow the whore to extinguish the candles”.

“How?” Bethany thought as she looked at Chloë confused, her hands and feet were tied and she couldn’t bend over to blow them out.

Chloë began lighting the candles, starting with the one furthest away from the tied girl, working her way towards her. “I wouldn’t think about it too long whore, you don’t have much time”.

Bethany, still confused, watched as Chloë turned off the lights and took a front seat position in the doorway above, her legs hanging over, kicking back and forth like a giddy kid, excited on its birthday.

“I assume the stupid whore has realised it’s to use its cunt, stupid bitch”, Chloë heckled from her substitute theatre box. “Hurry”.

“Shit, shit!” Bethany panicked. Her tired, weary eyes now wide open as the full picture became clear to her. “This is fucking insane”, she thought as her eyes darted around the lit candles which were heating up the rope, trying to work out what to do. “I can’t put my pussy on an open flame, can I? Is it safe? No, can’t be”. The thought of the sharp alligator tags being ripped off at force didn’t sound appealing either and the clock was ticking. “My poor pussy”, she thought to herself as it throbbed and ached from all the other torture it had received over the last few days. She stepped forward, her spread legs hovering over the first candle, her pussy already felt the heat.

“Not long to go, whore”.

The jeering from the “psychotic bitch” was not making this any easier for Bethany as she tentatively lowered her swollen tender pussy onto the first flame before pulling away quickly. “Urrrghhh” she grunted, frustrated with the situation but also her apprehension that was stopping herself committing her pussy to the hot flame. She lowered herself again, pulling away just as quickly. She repeated the same sequence a few times before screaming out in pain and distress allowing her wet pussy to make contact and smother the flame. It felt like a burning needle had been pressed into her folds as she made brief contact. The hot melted wax coated her lips and slit.

Chloë taunted her hostage by clapping and chanting “Clever whore, seven more”.

Bethany ignored the jeering from her captor, her legs physically shaking–her breaths quick and shallow–as she took micro steps and hovered over the next flame. The clamps had really taken hold, digging into Bethany’s skin and her pussy felt like it was on fire. The wax from the previous candle irritated the broken skin left by the clamps the day before. She thrust her soft, frail folds at the second candle quickly, causing unbearable pain to her clit as the flame stood firm. She jabbed her pussy at the burning flame again, this time with success letting the excruciating pain leave her mouth.

More chanting and mock clapping echoed around the cold bare room as Bethany made her way down the bench. Each candle less bearable than the last as the heat melted the wax entrenched in her smooth delicate creases before coating them in more as her pussy fleetingly smothered the wicks. Bethany wanted to cry, not just from the pain of the ordeal but the situation; that this was now her life. Daily torture, humiliation and degradation. Nothing more than an entertainment source for this crazy bitch. Her bottom lip quivered before she stopped herself from giving the psychopath the satisfaction of seeing that she was broken. Bethany hovered over the last candle, the rope around her waist beginning to fray as the heat from the candles penetrated the string thread by thread. She jabbed and thrusted her red-raw pussy at the flame taking several attempts to extinguish it. Each time closing her eyes hoping the light was gone, only to find it flickering strongly when she opened her eyes back up. "One last thrust", her lips temporarily divided over the head of the candle as her pink slit smothers the flame. The heat unbearable she lifts again–darkness.

Bethany lets out a gigantic sigh of relief, her body shaking, heartbeat racing, her mind unable to focus as her body throbbed in pain. Chloë’s cocoa-butter fragrance integrates with the smokey, paraffin scent from the snuffed out candles as she enters the basement, releasing Bethany from her restraints before the naked girl collapses to the floor.

“I’m not finished with the whore, get up”.

Bethany, unable to take any more shocks, clambers up, her body swaying, her eyes glazed over. She didn’t want to be here. She desperately tried to zone herself out as she was chained to the wall once again, watching Chloë prepare the next nightmare.

“Up on the wall, whore”, Chloë orders as she unchains Bethany, pointing towards the platform with shackles of the wooden cross on the wall that she discovered in the dark on her first night at the lake house.

Bethany stares solemnly at the cross. Her sore eyes half closed, hunched over depicting the tired, defeated prisoner she was.

Chloë raises the shock collar remote, pressing the button in front of the naked girl. Bethany waits for the shocks to cascade through her body, half preparing her hands for the inevitable fall to the ground–but nothing. Bethany sees Chloë press the button a second time–nothing. A third time, nothing happened. Bethany’s eyes become wide as Chloë looks at her with fear across her face. Bethany realises this is her opportunity. She plunges her head into Chloë’s face, headbutting her to the floor. Her heartbeat races. She scrambles to the ladder, skipping rungs before pulling it through the door. Chloë was unable to reach the ladders in time.

Bethany runs to the kitchen door. Her warm breaths cause condensation on the small glass panels. It was dark outside. Her trembling fingers reach for the key. The door unlocks and she’s out. She darts into the woods wanting to avoid the roads and disappear easily. The branches thrash against her naked, beaten body. She doesn’t care. She hurtles through the trees–looking over her shoulder–as she puts distance between her and The Lake House. She was free. Her bare feet trampling on the rough woodland terrain. She slips and slides on patches of muddy ground as she negotiates her way through the dark, thick woodland. With the full moon above as her only source of light, she runs as quickly as she can–”there’s no way she can know where I am”–she thinks to herself as she pauses for a moment in the silence to catch her breath. Bent over, hands planted to her knees she keeps looking behind from where she had been. No sounds, no chasing footsteps.

Her heart pumps hard, she can smell her own fear as she turns to run again. Twigs break beneath her feet and trickles of sweat cover her body as she runs into the cool night air. Every tree passed was one one tree closer to freedom. She felt hope as she dashed through the wilderness before being greeted by a bank of earth. She clambers up, her body covered in fresh mud and dirt before uncovering a railing–a road.

Bethany steps back, crouching in the undergrowth, trying to make herself as small as possible. The road's streetlights would give her away if she got too close. Her warm heavy breaths escape and her pulse rapid. She keeps her eye on the road, waiting for help, briefly looking back behind her. She waits.

A light appears in the distance along the long road. Fearful Chloë has managed to escape the basement and is out looking for her, she hides further behind some branches. The car gets closer but Bethany can’t make out if it’s Chloë’s or not. She stays hidden, her laboured breathing becoming more apparent as she tries to calm it.

The car approaches. Bethany can see it’s not Chloë’s Audi. Hunched over she steps towards the railing weary, before stepping over. Still hunched over in an attempt to hide her pussy she covers her breasts with one hand as she waves her other at the oncoming vehicle.

The car breaks slowly and rolls up to the naked girl before stopping. The passenger door window makes an electrical whirring noise as it slides down. Bethany peers into the car, still covering her breasts, her other hand now covering her pussy. She looks across the empty passenger seat to the driver, takes a deep breath and steps back. “Oh my god, what the hell!”.