001.
Louise.
I've got a secret.
I used to have more, but now there's only one. The rest, now that it's over, are reduced to reports and photos, laid down and fanned out across the desk of the man sitting opposite me. He doesn't know what my final secret is, doesn't in fact even know I have one more surprise.
He's smiling. He thinks he's won, that it's all over, that I'm done. Finished.
I smile back, sweetly. My own smile widening as I see his lip twitch, a brief moment of doubt. Why is she smiling when I'm about to expel her?
"Well then, Louise." Out comes an expensive fountain pen, along with some fresh paper. Looking from me to the pile of reports and photos, then back. One of the reports, my original application, has my photo attached. Maybe he wants to check I'm really me I decide, looking at the me frozen and printed out some six odd months ago. I haven't changed. A skinny size eight, toned from several swims a week and a good diet, with enhanced E cups that sit high and firm, topped by nipples that always seem to point the way forwards. Surgery is rare, I guess, at my young age- I'm nineteen -but I have understanding parents. And besides I didn't want to stay a B cup for life. Blonde hair that's mostly straight falls halfway down my back, I very rarely tie it back or up.
He's looking at me, more specifically it almost seems at my large chest, currently being hugged by a plain black fitted tee. Looking up, he meets my gaze. I drop mine to my breasts, giving them a teasing wiggle for him, he drops his all the way down though, to his blank paper, his pen. Clearing his throat. "Let's start from the beginning."
"Sure." I shrug, like I've got nothing but time, like I'm not doomed. His answering frown- the poor guy still doesn't understand which of us is the shark in this room -makes me want to laugh. "It all began...."
Some other Louise (?/F+) [story complete]
Some other Louise (?/F+) [story complete]
Last edited by RopeBunny 3 years ago, edited 5 times in total.
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tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 490
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Intriguing start, so many ways this could go. Although one thing we do know - it'll be brilliantly written and will feature some tied up beauties....
Yay! She's back! This'll be good...
002.
Everybody: the students, the staff, a good percentage of the locals, just calls it Battle, never bothering to add the word University. It is a university though, a place of higher learning for those who've made the grade at college level and want to climb even higher. During World War two what is now the campus grounds was the site of an RAF base, one of many temporarily erected in any field both within easy range of the incoming German attack, and flat enough to allow for relatively smooth take offs. Along with the subsequent landing of course, for any pilot lucky, or skillful, enough, to make it through the battle without being shot down. After the war the farmer regained his fields, keeping the various hangers for storage use, and, when he eventually sold the entire estate- in the financial hardships of the early eighties -the hangers were repurposed once again, this time into classrooms and workshops. Around the hangers newer buildings were built, some to be used as dorms, some as admin or more classrooms. All these plus the usual and necessary library and on campus facilities. The hangers dominate the site though. Huge arched things of rusting green and black metal, easily taller then any of the surrounding newer brick and glass structures.
Battle isn't a specialist university, students come to learn a variety of subjects, with courses ranging from two to four years.
Bethany. Beth to her friends. Studying music, specifically of the electronic kind. Beth has aspirations of becoming the next Jean Michel Jarre.
Having qualified for all kinds of loans, which of course she's going to have to repay, but not yet, Beth will be spending most of the next two years in on campus dorms. Living her best university life. Yesterday evening, Sunday, she moved in. Assigned a shared room in Lancaster- every building is World War two themed, because someone thought it'd be cool and nobody told them no -she met her roommate, who on first impressions was cute, and prone to half smiles, though only it seemed when she thought nobody was looking.
Having spent a largely sleepless night in an unfamiliar bed, Beth wakes, showers and dresses. A skinny size six she mostly wears tight leggings paired with a top a size or two too large. Being flat chested, an A cup but very happy with her sometimes visible ribs and flat stomach, and her little bee sting breasts, Beth finds wearing a baggy tee removes the need to wear a bra. Which isn't to say she never wears tight tops or dresses, it really depends on her mood, and whether she's dressing up or not. She always finds bras uncomfortable anyway, so is glad to have precisely zero of them in her drawers. A natural ginger with the pale near white skin to match, plus a scattering of freckles on her face and down each side of her body, Beth's curly shoulder length hair is mostly left to it's own crazy devices, some days she doesn't even comb it. After breakfast, eaten in the student canteen, is orientation. A chance to be shown around campus by one of the older returning students.
"So, to recap." Mark, standing in the relative shade offered by the large rusting hanger, looks out over the group of twelve first years, all of them looking either slightly lost, overwhelmed, or bored. He smiles, remembering his own first day two years ago. "Everybody got your maps?" A handful of nods, a confused frown, and, though she can't possibly know she's wasting her time- lacking a cock, and besides which she's a she, not a he -Mark even receives a flirty smile from one of the cuter girls, who waves her map at him too. He smiles back anyway, but at the group as a whole. "Right." Nodding. "Good. Well, in conclusion." Pointing as he talks, both at his own held up map and in the correct real world direction. "We're here. Library over there, beyond which is some pretty woodland half on and half off campus land. Admin over there near the dorms. And that way for the on site canteen." Met with a sea of confused expressions, which is fine, the campus, despite being old, and run down in several places, isn't too large, so it's near impossible to get properly lost. Mark decides it's time to wrap the tour up. "Lastly," pointing over his shoulder, "is one of three original World War two hangers on site. This one though, hanger three, is the one to watch."
"Why?" One of the young guys, even putting his hand up. Mark grins, someone always falls for the bait. "Well," turning, peering over his shoulder briefly, then coming back to face the group, frowning, "no." Waving a hand. "It's nothing, forget I spoke."
"What's nothing?" A girl this time. Mark shakes his head, playing it up. "What's your name?"
"Beth."
"Well, Beth." Dropping his voice, pleased to see all the group inch closer to hear him. "I really wouldn't worry about it." Shaking his head. "But...."
"But what?" Whispering too, he's got them all waiting on his every word. Poor fools. "Well." Looking back over his shoulder again. "You see, hanger three has nine rooms, the other two have ten."
"So?" A boy, not getting it, even as a couple of the others gasp. Mark nods. "Indeed. All three hangers are the same size, same interior layout. But...." Leaving it hanging, unfinished, waiting. And, after a moment, the flirty girl says it for him. "Where did room ten go?"
"Exactly." Nodding, keeping the smile off his face. The script- taught to a select few seniors, a prank cooked up to scare the new arrivals each year -has, to Mark's knowledge, been used at Battle almost since the university opened. It always seems to have more of an effect, he's been told, if one of the first years makes the connection for the group, rather then his having to feed them everything. "There did used to be a room ten in hanger three, and," now he smiles, but not a laughing smile, more like sharing a secret, "sometimes, at night, they say the room reappears."
"Why does it come back?" Beth again. There's, hopefully, always one who wants to know more. But Mark only smiles some more, brings his voice back up to normal volume, steps back. "Well, guys and girls, that's me out of time." Checking his phone even whilst backing away. "Good luck on your various courses this year." With a wave he turns, leaves, already looking forward to drinks with the lads later, telling them who looked the most scared. Laughing at all the gullible kids.
Beth can't let the subject lie.
She isn't dumb, so knows there's a good chance room ten is just some ghost story cooked up for a joke. But. Trips to each of the three hangers during teaching hours, when at various times she's got a sufficient gap between lectures to explore, proves that all have identical internal layouts: a central corridor with doors in parallel on each side marching end to end. Except. Hangers one and two have ten doors, five pairs. Hanger three does indeed have only nine, despite being large enough to accommodate a tenth, since, and she checks, room seven and eight are the same size, so there's enough space for a room ten beside eight just as nine slots next to seven.
Curious. Even more so given that the section of wall between door eight and the rear wall of hanger three looks different to the rest of the internal walls. It's significantly newer, Beth thinks, and not older as in hangers one and two. But only close observation of the same wall in each hanger, one after the other, seems to reveal this fact, any cursory glance would surely miss the change in colour. Replaced? To cover up both the room and its door?
The library is no help. Or rather the combination of books and the web reveal the basic facts. But it takes a chance meeting three weeks later, the right question asked of the right person at the right time, before Beth gets the whole story.
"It all depends," taking off his glasses, giving them a polish whilst at the same time giving Beth a kindly smile, one he gives to all the students, "on which version of the story you want me to tell?"
"I." Beth pauses, lifts a hand off the table- they're in the student bar on a Tuesday evening -puts it back down. She frowns at the young man, Mr Silver, one of the Geography lecturers, who despite his name has a head of messy dark brown hair. "I don't understand?"
"No." Replacing his glasses. "Of course you don't." A smiled grimace. "And why should you young lady. Sorry." Shaking his head. "Forgive me my purposeful vagueness, I simply have a passion for theatrics, and allow me to explain."
"Please." Taking a sip of her pint. "I'd like to know what's going on, if you can tell me?"
"Hanger three was for maintenance." Mr Silver begins, taking his time, being sure to tell the correct, the truthful he always thinks, story first. "Back in big two, when the airfield was built. One and two for storage, three for maintenance. In forty-two a sinkhole opened up in the corner of hanger three one night, inside the bunkroom. Killed a young girl." Shaking his head. "Reports at the time say it opened right underneath her."
"A girl on an airbase though?" Beth frowns. "Back in the forties?"
"Airmen have needs." A shrug, a small smile at Beth's blush. "Poor girl, the whole room, the base really, dark due to the blackouts, wouldn't of even understood why she was falling."
"So," Beth thinks, "the hole is in that sealed off corner room?"
"Yes and no."
"Huh?" Taking another drink, gesturing for Mr Silver to go on, which he does, nodding. "From here on out fact and fiction do begin to blur somewhat."
"I see."
"It is a fact that the whole hanger was sealed off for safety reasons, and remained so until the estate was purchased for conversion and use as this fine establishment. At that time the hanger was unlocked, and, having found the hole to of mostly collapsed in on itself, just that room was sealed, the rest, like hangers one and two, was partitioned off and turned into workshops."
"So there never was a room ten?"
"That part is fiction."
"And what else is fiction?"
"Well," taking a drink of his own pint, "understand that when I say fiction I merely mean unproven or not solidly reported fact. There is no proof against anything I'm about to tell you."
"Right." Feeling cold footsteps up her spine, Beth takes a calming breath. "Tell me?"
"Some, at the time, and even now, swear that the sinkhole, which may even still exist in some fashion, is deep."
"Deep?"
"Bottomless," a grim smile, "all the way down to hell itself." A waved gesture. "Or some such evil place."
"Oh." Beth takes a sip. "Wow."
"Wow indeed. Some of those same people also claim that the girl who fell, now a Demon of sorts, crawls back out of the hole to prey on those who stray too close. I'm told she." Pausing, reaching across the small table to take Beth's two wrists in his one hand, pulling them towards him. Mr Silver, in a blur of motion, pulls off the scarf he wears loosely around the neck no matter what the temperature, and tightly wraps Beth's crossed wrists. He smiles, yanking the knot tight, making her breath catch, and looks her in the eyes. "Binds them, somehow. Drags them back down into the hole with her, for company prehaps?"
"Fuck."
"Yes." A small shake of the head. Taking a breath of his own, coming back to himself. "Ah." Tugging the knot loose, retrieving his scarf. "Sorry. Beth wasn't it?"
"Yes." Almost whispered, her heart still hammering from the sudden unexpected tie up. The tingles, which had spread all the way up her arms and down to her nipples, only just beginning to fade. "What was...?"
"I'm afraid I do sometimes get carried away." Looking down at the table, at his heaped scarf. Mr Silver looks back up, waves a hand. "It's the theatrics you see, everything with a flourish."
"It's okay." Giving a small smile, only now remembering to uncross her wrists. "Please go on."
"Right, well." Taking a sip, thinking. "It's said that sometimes the door reappears."
"Door?"
"To the room. Each hanger had a bunkroom in the same corner, it was these rooms walls that were used as a guide to block the hangers off into seperate spaces. So...."
"So," saying it for him, deciding in the moment not to mention her discovery of the newer wall, "the original walls in that corner survive."
"Yes." Nodding. "All be it in hanger three without a door now, which was removed decades ago to prevent drunk or otherwise foolhardy students from exploring."
"We can be a pretty foolhardy bunch." Laughing, Mr Silver joins her. Beth finishes her drink, and stands. "Well. Thank you for sharing."
"Not at all." A nod, a smile. "Facinating stuff I always thought."
"Oh," nodding, still feeling a slight shiver at the whole idea of a Demon on campus, "it's certainly that."
"A what?" Beth's roommate bursts out laughing. "He said there was a Demon in hanger three." Beth smiles, feeling the effects of the shared bottle of Russias finest, on top of the beer with Mr Silver, and topped off with no dinner. She giggles. "Well, he said maybe."
"Maybe there's a Demon on campus?" Louise cocks an eyebrow, smiling. "I wonder what course he's enrolled on?" Which makes both girls laugh some more. "No no," wagging a finger at her busty roommate, Beth shakes her head, "it's a she."
"Demons can be girls?"
"Fucked if I know." An exaggerated shrug. "Besides," waving the whole thing away. "Stupid thing's made up anyway."
"Is that right?" Louise's expression has switched to serious, though Beth's too wasted to notice. "Must be." Nodding. "I mean." Waving her arms around, the drink making her forget her earlier chills at the idea as she giggles. "Who even believes in that shit anyway?"
"Who indeed." Smiling, something crafty, the smile of a girl making plans, which again is missed by Beth. "Come on," Louise steps in close, giving Beth a one armed side by side hug, "let's go find some food to soak up all that vodka."
Everybody: the students, the staff, a good percentage of the locals, just calls it Battle, never bothering to add the word University. It is a university though, a place of higher learning for those who've made the grade at college level and want to climb even higher. During World War two what is now the campus grounds was the site of an RAF base, one of many temporarily erected in any field both within easy range of the incoming German attack, and flat enough to allow for relatively smooth take offs. Along with the subsequent landing of course, for any pilot lucky, or skillful, enough, to make it through the battle without being shot down. After the war the farmer regained his fields, keeping the various hangers for storage use, and, when he eventually sold the entire estate- in the financial hardships of the early eighties -the hangers were repurposed once again, this time into classrooms and workshops. Around the hangers newer buildings were built, some to be used as dorms, some as admin or more classrooms. All these plus the usual and necessary library and on campus facilities. The hangers dominate the site though. Huge arched things of rusting green and black metal, easily taller then any of the surrounding newer brick and glass structures.
Battle isn't a specialist university, students come to learn a variety of subjects, with courses ranging from two to four years.
Bethany. Beth to her friends. Studying music, specifically of the electronic kind. Beth has aspirations of becoming the next Jean Michel Jarre.
Having qualified for all kinds of loans, which of course she's going to have to repay, but not yet, Beth will be spending most of the next two years in on campus dorms. Living her best university life. Yesterday evening, Sunday, she moved in. Assigned a shared room in Lancaster- every building is World War two themed, because someone thought it'd be cool and nobody told them no -she met her roommate, who on first impressions was cute, and prone to half smiles, though only it seemed when she thought nobody was looking.
Having spent a largely sleepless night in an unfamiliar bed, Beth wakes, showers and dresses. A skinny size six she mostly wears tight leggings paired with a top a size or two too large. Being flat chested, an A cup but very happy with her sometimes visible ribs and flat stomach, and her little bee sting breasts, Beth finds wearing a baggy tee removes the need to wear a bra. Which isn't to say she never wears tight tops or dresses, it really depends on her mood, and whether she's dressing up or not. She always finds bras uncomfortable anyway, so is glad to have precisely zero of them in her drawers. A natural ginger with the pale near white skin to match, plus a scattering of freckles on her face and down each side of her body, Beth's curly shoulder length hair is mostly left to it's own crazy devices, some days she doesn't even comb it. After breakfast, eaten in the student canteen, is orientation. A chance to be shown around campus by one of the older returning students.
"So, to recap." Mark, standing in the relative shade offered by the large rusting hanger, looks out over the group of twelve first years, all of them looking either slightly lost, overwhelmed, or bored. He smiles, remembering his own first day two years ago. "Everybody got your maps?" A handful of nods, a confused frown, and, though she can't possibly know she's wasting her time- lacking a cock, and besides which she's a she, not a he -Mark even receives a flirty smile from one of the cuter girls, who waves her map at him too. He smiles back anyway, but at the group as a whole. "Right." Nodding. "Good. Well, in conclusion." Pointing as he talks, both at his own held up map and in the correct real world direction. "We're here. Library over there, beyond which is some pretty woodland half on and half off campus land. Admin over there near the dorms. And that way for the on site canteen." Met with a sea of confused expressions, which is fine, the campus, despite being old, and run down in several places, isn't too large, so it's near impossible to get properly lost. Mark decides it's time to wrap the tour up. "Lastly," pointing over his shoulder, "is one of three original World War two hangers on site. This one though, hanger three, is the one to watch."
"Why?" One of the young guys, even putting his hand up. Mark grins, someone always falls for the bait. "Well," turning, peering over his shoulder briefly, then coming back to face the group, frowning, "no." Waving a hand. "It's nothing, forget I spoke."
"What's nothing?" A girl this time. Mark shakes his head, playing it up. "What's your name?"
"Beth."
"Well, Beth." Dropping his voice, pleased to see all the group inch closer to hear him. "I really wouldn't worry about it." Shaking his head. "But...."
"But what?" Whispering too, he's got them all waiting on his every word. Poor fools. "Well." Looking back over his shoulder again. "You see, hanger three has nine rooms, the other two have ten."
"So?" A boy, not getting it, even as a couple of the others gasp. Mark nods. "Indeed. All three hangers are the same size, same interior layout. But...." Leaving it hanging, unfinished, waiting. And, after a moment, the flirty girl says it for him. "Where did room ten go?"
"Exactly." Nodding, keeping the smile off his face. The script- taught to a select few seniors, a prank cooked up to scare the new arrivals each year -has, to Mark's knowledge, been used at Battle almost since the university opened. It always seems to have more of an effect, he's been told, if one of the first years makes the connection for the group, rather then his having to feed them everything. "There did used to be a room ten in hanger three, and," now he smiles, but not a laughing smile, more like sharing a secret, "sometimes, at night, they say the room reappears."
"Why does it come back?" Beth again. There's, hopefully, always one who wants to know more. But Mark only smiles some more, brings his voice back up to normal volume, steps back. "Well, guys and girls, that's me out of time." Checking his phone even whilst backing away. "Good luck on your various courses this year." With a wave he turns, leaves, already looking forward to drinks with the lads later, telling them who looked the most scared. Laughing at all the gullible kids.
Beth can't let the subject lie.
She isn't dumb, so knows there's a good chance room ten is just some ghost story cooked up for a joke. But. Trips to each of the three hangers during teaching hours, when at various times she's got a sufficient gap between lectures to explore, proves that all have identical internal layouts: a central corridor with doors in parallel on each side marching end to end. Except. Hangers one and two have ten doors, five pairs. Hanger three does indeed have only nine, despite being large enough to accommodate a tenth, since, and she checks, room seven and eight are the same size, so there's enough space for a room ten beside eight just as nine slots next to seven.
Curious. Even more so given that the section of wall between door eight and the rear wall of hanger three looks different to the rest of the internal walls. It's significantly newer, Beth thinks, and not older as in hangers one and two. But only close observation of the same wall in each hanger, one after the other, seems to reveal this fact, any cursory glance would surely miss the change in colour. Replaced? To cover up both the room and its door?
The library is no help. Or rather the combination of books and the web reveal the basic facts. But it takes a chance meeting three weeks later, the right question asked of the right person at the right time, before Beth gets the whole story.
"It all depends," taking off his glasses, giving them a polish whilst at the same time giving Beth a kindly smile, one he gives to all the students, "on which version of the story you want me to tell?"
"I." Beth pauses, lifts a hand off the table- they're in the student bar on a Tuesday evening -puts it back down. She frowns at the young man, Mr Silver, one of the Geography lecturers, who despite his name has a head of messy dark brown hair. "I don't understand?"
"No." Replacing his glasses. "Of course you don't." A smiled grimace. "And why should you young lady. Sorry." Shaking his head. "Forgive me my purposeful vagueness, I simply have a passion for theatrics, and allow me to explain."
"Please." Taking a sip of her pint. "I'd like to know what's going on, if you can tell me?"
"Hanger three was for maintenance." Mr Silver begins, taking his time, being sure to tell the correct, the truthful he always thinks, story first. "Back in big two, when the airfield was built. One and two for storage, three for maintenance. In forty-two a sinkhole opened up in the corner of hanger three one night, inside the bunkroom. Killed a young girl." Shaking his head. "Reports at the time say it opened right underneath her."
"A girl on an airbase though?" Beth frowns. "Back in the forties?"
"Airmen have needs." A shrug, a small smile at Beth's blush. "Poor girl, the whole room, the base really, dark due to the blackouts, wouldn't of even understood why she was falling."
"So," Beth thinks, "the hole is in that sealed off corner room?"
"Yes and no."
"Huh?" Taking another drink, gesturing for Mr Silver to go on, which he does, nodding. "From here on out fact and fiction do begin to blur somewhat."
"I see."
"It is a fact that the whole hanger was sealed off for safety reasons, and remained so until the estate was purchased for conversion and use as this fine establishment. At that time the hanger was unlocked, and, having found the hole to of mostly collapsed in on itself, just that room was sealed, the rest, like hangers one and two, was partitioned off and turned into workshops."
"So there never was a room ten?"
"That part is fiction."
"And what else is fiction?"
"Well," taking a drink of his own pint, "understand that when I say fiction I merely mean unproven or not solidly reported fact. There is no proof against anything I'm about to tell you."
"Right." Feeling cold footsteps up her spine, Beth takes a calming breath. "Tell me?"
"Some, at the time, and even now, swear that the sinkhole, which may even still exist in some fashion, is deep."
"Deep?"
"Bottomless," a grim smile, "all the way down to hell itself." A waved gesture. "Or some such evil place."
"Oh." Beth takes a sip. "Wow."
"Wow indeed. Some of those same people also claim that the girl who fell, now a Demon of sorts, crawls back out of the hole to prey on those who stray too close. I'm told she." Pausing, reaching across the small table to take Beth's two wrists in his one hand, pulling them towards him. Mr Silver, in a blur of motion, pulls off the scarf he wears loosely around the neck no matter what the temperature, and tightly wraps Beth's crossed wrists. He smiles, yanking the knot tight, making her breath catch, and looks her in the eyes. "Binds them, somehow. Drags them back down into the hole with her, for company prehaps?"
"Fuck."
"Yes." A small shake of the head. Taking a breath of his own, coming back to himself. "Ah." Tugging the knot loose, retrieving his scarf. "Sorry. Beth wasn't it?"
"Yes." Almost whispered, her heart still hammering from the sudden unexpected tie up. The tingles, which had spread all the way up her arms and down to her nipples, only just beginning to fade. "What was...?"
"I'm afraid I do sometimes get carried away." Looking down at the table, at his heaped scarf. Mr Silver looks back up, waves a hand. "It's the theatrics you see, everything with a flourish."
"It's okay." Giving a small smile, only now remembering to uncross her wrists. "Please go on."
"Right, well." Taking a sip, thinking. "It's said that sometimes the door reappears."
"Door?"
"To the room. Each hanger had a bunkroom in the same corner, it was these rooms walls that were used as a guide to block the hangers off into seperate spaces. So...."
"So," saying it for him, deciding in the moment not to mention her discovery of the newer wall, "the original walls in that corner survive."
"Yes." Nodding. "All be it in hanger three without a door now, which was removed decades ago to prevent drunk or otherwise foolhardy students from exploring."
"We can be a pretty foolhardy bunch." Laughing, Mr Silver joins her. Beth finishes her drink, and stands. "Well. Thank you for sharing."
"Not at all." A nod, a smile. "Facinating stuff I always thought."
"Oh," nodding, still feeling a slight shiver at the whole idea of a Demon on campus, "it's certainly that."
"A what?" Beth's roommate bursts out laughing. "He said there was a Demon in hanger three." Beth smiles, feeling the effects of the shared bottle of Russias finest, on top of the beer with Mr Silver, and topped off with no dinner. She giggles. "Well, he said maybe."
"Maybe there's a Demon on campus?" Louise cocks an eyebrow, smiling. "I wonder what course he's enrolled on?" Which makes both girls laugh some more. "No no," wagging a finger at her busty roommate, Beth shakes her head, "it's a she."
"Demons can be girls?"
"Fucked if I know." An exaggerated shrug. "Besides," waving the whole thing away. "Stupid thing's made up anyway."
"Is that right?" Louise's expression has switched to serious, though Beth's too wasted to notice. "Must be." Nodding. "I mean." Waving her arms around, the drink making her forget her earlier chills at the idea as she giggles. "Who even believes in that shit anyway?"
"Who indeed." Smiling, something crafty, the smile of a girl making plans, which again is missed by Beth. "Come on," Louise steps in close, giving Beth a one armed side by side hug, "let's go find some food to soak up all that vodka."
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tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 490
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Nice developments, setting us up nicely for the events to come.
Enjoying the switch of characters, and the detailed description of the setting - really wish I could be back at that university!
Enjoying the switch of characters, and the detailed description of the setting - really wish I could be back at that university!
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Risperdaltied
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 176
- Joined: 6 years ago
Yay! You’re back - and with what looks like another superb story!
Bikinis + bondage = perfect combination
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
Building up Nicely as usual 
Thanks for welcoming me back 
helps me smile to see members here happy to find a new RopeBunny story.
[mention]Risperdaltied[/mention] two chapters in I would've been pinging you about now, had you not found me yourself.
Plenty more to come as and when I'm able to write it
helps me smile to see members here happy to find a new RopeBunny story.[mention]Risperdaltied[/mention] two chapters in I would've been pinging you about now, had you not found me yourself.
Plenty more to come as and when I'm able to write it
Welcome back!!!
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Risperdaltied
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 176
- Joined: 6 years ago
Hahaha! That makes me feel less like a stalker...
Bikinis + bondage = perfect combination
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
If [mention]Risperdaltied[/mention] is not your stalker can I be? 
-
Risperdaltied
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 176
- Joined: 6 years ago
Bikinis + bondage = perfect combination
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
003.
One thing about university life, there's always some excuse students can find to throw a party.
On the outskirts of the nearest town to Battle, the central shopping area of said town being a fifteen minute car or twenty seven minute bus ride away, sits a street made up of older large detached properties. Some of these have been converted for use by local businesses: a doctors, a dentist, one office each for solicitors and accountants. A couple are still lived in, in both cases the original old house was gutted and rebuilt using modern materials, the gardens fitted with a pool or additional buildings, like a double garage to house one rich older man's classic TVR and newer Lotus. His wife's brand new Range Rover sport is relegated to the driveway though. The rest of these dwellings have been bought up in recent years by investors, and turned into flats, the large five plus bedrooms easily converted into seperate small areas. Of these converted houses, two are used as student housing. And of these two, one is the location of tonight's party.
Number eleven, which sits at the far end of the road on the turnaround, the road in question being a relatively straight cul de sac. This house, rather then being divided up into separate flats, has been left as a six bedroom four bathroom, meaning at any time there are up to six students sharing out the rent and utilities, all with seperate allocated shelves in the kitchen cupboards and fridge, which doesn't stop the pilfering of others treats. At least the smarter amongst the current group has learned to keep chocolate hidden in their room, behind locked doors. There are times when a mixture of girls and boys rents this house, but this year it's an all boys group.
The back doors are open, the music surely loud enough to bring the police were the house not in such a deserted neighbourhood, and every available inch of kitchen counter and tabletop is crammed with cans and bottles of various beers and lagers.
It's a good night.
One of the hosts is on the same course as Beth, and has roped all the other aspiring DJs into taking a turn on the decks he's set up in the large lounge, a room at the rear of the property, which means the music will carry easily out into the back garden. Which is handy since, as it's a warm late summers night, a good portion of the attending students are outside at any one time. Having already taken one turn, playing mostly tracks she's created but spliced in with the occasional classic, Beth's currently out in the garden, part of a rough circle about a dozen strong, boys and girls, all talking amongst themselves.
Despite having combed her hair it still looks crazy, but Beth likes it that way, the occasional random strand sticking up on top, and what hair does fall down the back tending to go left and right more then straight down. She's wearing a black and luminous green vertical striped dress made of a stretchy fabric that hugs her whole body from tee style sleeveless neckline down to above the knees. No bra, of course, and only the smallest of thongs to avoid any visible lines. Along with the decks and associated speakers, set up at several points are coloured lights on poles, which flash in time to the various bass beats. In these lights the green on Beth's dress glows luminous.
At some point the drunken conversation turns to ghosts, which in turn leads Beth to bring up room ten with Connor, the boy she's currently sat beside on one of the wooden benches arranged in a loose three sided square in the garden.
"Load of bollocks." Shaking his head. Despite the whole group talking on the same general subject there are actually four seperate conversations going on, one of which is solely between Beth and Connor. "I mean," nodding now, "sure. Heard that crap the girl on the walkabout talked...."
"Had a guy do me."
"Course you did." Sticking his tongue out, winking. Beth sticks a finger in her bottle and flicks beer at him, but smiles. "Anyway. Point is." Stabbing his finger at her, causing his own can of lager to slosh and spill. "Point is. There's no fucking room ten."
"No?"
"No." Shaking his head. "S' just a." Another drink. "Bunch of not very scary lies."
"I don't think it is." Shaking her head. "I've seen the wall."
"What wall?"
"Hanger three."
"And?"
"It's different." Thinking of the right word. "Changed."
"Wait." Connor holds up a hand, stares at Beth. "Changed?"
"Changed." Nodding. Connor shakes his head. "No fucking way."
"Telling you." Nodding, pointing her own bottle in echo of his earlier gesture. "The wall in hanger three. Different."
"You've actually seen the door." Connor gasps, mouth and eyes wide. "Fuck me."
"Well. I." Beth, confused, replaying the conversation as best her drunk brain can, shakes her head. But it's too late. "Hey." Connor, near shouting, nudging the people sat nearest him. "Hey. Guys." Finally the rest of the group is quiet, paying attention. "Becky here." Connor points at Beth. "Has seen the door."
"What door?"
"The front door?"
"Whose Becky?"
"I've already told you, get your hand off my fucking leg."
"Not the hanger three door?"
"Wait, someone's actually seen the Demon?"
"No, dick, Ben saw the door, the Demon isn't real."
"Not Ben, fucking drunk, it's Brandy."
"Guys." Shouting again, Connor shuts them all up. "Fucks sake," standing, gesturing at them all, "come on. Who wants to go and see?"
"But." Beth, quietly, as she gets swept along in the groups wake. "I never said anything about the door."
Everybody piles into three cars, almost fifteen people by the time they've made it out the front. Luckily the two boys and one girl driving haven't drunk more then two pints between them, so the convoy makes it safely over to Battle, at which point everybody piles out, most still clutching a bottle or can, and the group makes it's noisy way over to hanger three.
"But," watching the drunk group walk and shuffle away, mostly grumbling, Beth gestures at the patch of wall, repeating what she'd tried to tell them earlier, "I didn't say I'd seen a door." None of the others turn, they're all, already, lost in almost a dozen different conversations, at least half of which aren't even about hanger three, or Demons. Beth follows them for several paces, trailing behind, trying to marshall her thoughts, before she realises that none of them cares anyway. Furthermore, having made it back to campus without the aid of a bus, and therefore richer now then she expected to be, Beth decides to let it drop, to go back to her dorm and eat some chocolate whilst watching YouTube on her laptop. If Louise is asleep she can always put her headphones on. Nodding, decision made, she takes a step towards the hangers exit, at which point a hissing sound comes, quietly, from behind her. Stopping, turning, Beth frowns. "What the fuck?" A door has just appeared, like magic she thinks with a nervous laugh.
Like all the internal doors in all the hangers, this one is wooden. The central corridor Beth stands in is dimly lit, because it's after midnight and the building isn't in use. Plus none of the drunks, Beth included, thought to flick more lighting on as they entered. The wood is dark. The door, doors really since like all the others this is a double, is just a plain slab with none of the windows or fancy woodwork you sometimes find. The right hand door has a black metal '10' screwed on at roughly chest height, all the hanger doors are thus numbered. From around the doors, from the small gaps between frame and actual door, a dim red light is pulsing softly. And from underneath, where door and floor don't quite meet, wisps of white smoke are escaping out into the corridor.
From somewhere behind her the main entrance door to hanger three bangs shut as the last of the drunken group leaves. Beth barely notices, her eyes are fixed forwards. She shakes her head, small side to side motions. "No." As though a verbal denial will be enough to send the door back wherever it came from. She takes a step forwards, tentative, like a child sneaking towards a friend who has their eyes closed and back turned. She takes another, pausing each time to breathe, aware of her thudding heartbeat. Seven more steps brings her within touching distance of the doors, which do indeed sit opposite those for room nine, in the correct spot. "Um." A nervous laugh escapes Beth's throat as she realises she doesn't actually have a plan. Why did she even walk towards the door? Panicking, feeling a sudden cold sweat break out across her back, she retreats a step. "S' only a door." Scolding herself now, which makes her laugh again, a short high sound. Beth looks left, then right. The whole hanger is deserted. She looks back at the door, biting her lip, stealing herself to do. Something. And then, with a click, followed by a quiet whoosh, the right hand door swings open.
"Ohfuckcrapshitshitshit." Stumbling backwards, away from the fast approaching drifting smoke that the inward swinging door has wafted her way, Beth trips over her own feet, and winds up sat on her butt, legs splayed out in front, arms out behind with hands resting on the floor. "Fuck." Trying to control her breathing, to slow her heart, Beth looks up, and comes very close to screaming as a shape emerges from room ten.
From out of the smoky red tinted darkness the Demon steps, moving towards Beth as she cowers, her body frozen with shock. The girl who fell, who then rose up out of the pit, has retained at least some of her human features in this new form. Slim toned legs, plus feet and ten toes, are all matt black as far up as the waist. Above this her skin is pure white, like a ghost, though both arms are covered in long trailing red scars, all of which look fresh and angry. Large round breasts are topped with nipples as white as the rest of her, yet between the legs she's smooth, like a child's doll. A pretty face is, depending on your point of view, spoiled or not by black ringed smudges around the eyes. And the head is topped by long matted black hair that twists and tumbles down her back.
The smoke pouring from the open doorway only adds to the overall look of her appearance.
A looped rope, a lasso, is flung out by the Demon. Beth blinks as the rope strikes her nose and falls to the ground in front of her, but doesn't move. The Demon grunts, shakes her head, jerking the rope back with a flick, bringing the loop back into her hand. Licking white lips she tries again, this time succeeding. The lasso snares Beth's body, and arms, constricting tight as the Demon pulls, tugging Beth's arms into her body as the loop of rope shrinks where it sits just below the now captured girls small breasts. Shaking her head, drunk brain crashing, unable to do anything now to help herself, Beth falls onto her side as the Demon pushes her over with one bare foot, before bending down over the skinny girl to finish immobilising her.
The long trailing end of the lasso is wrapped and tied around Beth's ankles, which, because the Demon tugs on the rope before knotting it for the first of several times, are pulled behind her up towards her butt, bending her legs, making a hogtie of sorts. With no other rope this tie will have to do.
Finally, far too late, Beth wakes from her fear induced coma. "What?" Trying to straighten her body, looking down at the rope tightly cinched under her breasts. "The fuck?" And then movement off to the side registers, she jerks her head around, and stares into the black eyes of the all too real Demon hunkered inches away. "No no no no." Shaking her head, trying to wriggle away across the floor, a task made difficult by the tight rope that prevents her legs from moving in any way save that mimicking a snake. "Fuck." Beth cries out as a white hand grabs at the rope running down her back. The Demon grins. "Yes yes yes." Spoken like a hiss as the Demon stands, rope in hand, and begins dragging Beth along the smooth floor.
Unable to escape, Beth can only watch, still shaking her head, refusing on some level to accept anything happening now as real, as the main entrance to hanger three moves further and further away, becoming obscured in smoke as it does. She moves from relative dim light into the almost dark of room ten. "Help." Almost a whisper, but the Demon hears, and laughs. Dropping the rope, walking around Beth she puts a hand on the door. "No help for you Beth." Shaking her head, grin lit up in pulsing red light. "Mine now." Pushing the door closed, trapping whisps of smoke out in the corridor.
By morning both the smoke, and the door, will be gone.
One thing about university life, there's always some excuse students can find to throw a party.
On the outskirts of the nearest town to Battle, the central shopping area of said town being a fifteen minute car or twenty seven minute bus ride away, sits a street made up of older large detached properties. Some of these have been converted for use by local businesses: a doctors, a dentist, one office each for solicitors and accountants. A couple are still lived in, in both cases the original old house was gutted and rebuilt using modern materials, the gardens fitted with a pool or additional buildings, like a double garage to house one rich older man's classic TVR and newer Lotus. His wife's brand new Range Rover sport is relegated to the driveway though. The rest of these dwellings have been bought up in recent years by investors, and turned into flats, the large five plus bedrooms easily converted into seperate small areas. Of these converted houses, two are used as student housing. And of these two, one is the location of tonight's party.
Number eleven, which sits at the far end of the road on the turnaround, the road in question being a relatively straight cul de sac. This house, rather then being divided up into separate flats, has been left as a six bedroom four bathroom, meaning at any time there are up to six students sharing out the rent and utilities, all with seperate allocated shelves in the kitchen cupboards and fridge, which doesn't stop the pilfering of others treats. At least the smarter amongst the current group has learned to keep chocolate hidden in their room, behind locked doors. There are times when a mixture of girls and boys rents this house, but this year it's an all boys group.
The back doors are open, the music surely loud enough to bring the police were the house not in such a deserted neighbourhood, and every available inch of kitchen counter and tabletop is crammed with cans and bottles of various beers and lagers.
It's a good night.
One of the hosts is on the same course as Beth, and has roped all the other aspiring DJs into taking a turn on the decks he's set up in the large lounge, a room at the rear of the property, which means the music will carry easily out into the back garden. Which is handy since, as it's a warm late summers night, a good portion of the attending students are outside at any one time. Having already taken one turn, playing mostly tracks she's created but spliced in with the occasional classic, Beth's currently out in the garden, part of a rough circle about a dozen strong, boys and girls, all talking amongst themselves.
Despite having combed her hair it still looks crazy, but Beth likes it that way, the occasional random strand sticking up on top, and what hair does fall down the back tending to go left and right more then straight down. She's wearing a black and luminous green vertical striped dress made of a stretchy fabric that hugs her whole body from tee style sleeveless neckline down to above the knees. No bra, of course, and only the smallest of thongs to avoid any visible lines. Along with the decks and associated speakers, set up at several points are coloured lights on poles, which flash in time to the various bass beats. In these lights the green on Beth's dress glows luminous.
At some point the drunken conversation turns to ghosts, which in turn leads Beth to bring up room ten with Connor, the boy she's currently sat beside on one of the wooden benches arranged in a loose three sided square in the garden.
"Load of bollocks." Shaking his head. Despite the whole group talking on the same general subject there are actually four seperate conversations going on, one of which is solely between Beth and Connor. "I mean," nodding now, "sure. Heard that crap the girl on the walkabout talked...."
"Had a guy do me."
"Course you did." Sticking his tongue out, winking. Beth sticks a finger in her bottle and flicks beer at him, but smiles. "Anyway. Point is." Stabbing his finger at her, causing his own can of lager to slosh and spill. "Point is. There's no fucking room ten."
"No?"
"No." Shaking his head. "S' just a." Another drink. "Bunch of not very scary lies."
"I don't think it is." Shaking her head. "I've seen the wall."
"What wall?"
"Hanger three."
"And?"
"It's different." Thinking of the right word. "Changed."
"Wait." Connor holds up a hand, stares at Beth. "Changed?"
"Changed." Nodding. Connor shakes his head. "No fucking way."
"Telling you." Nodding, pointing her own bottle in echo of his earlier gesture. "The wall in hanger three. Different."
"You've actually seen the door." Connor gasps, mouth and eyes wide. "Fuck me."
"Well. I." Beth, confused, replaying the conversation as best her drunk brain can, shakes her head. But it's too late. "Hey." Connor, near shouting, nudging the people sat nearest him. "Hey. Guys." Finally the rest of the group is quiet, paying attention. "Becky here." Connor points at Beth. "Has seen the door."
"What door?"
"The front door?"
"Whose Becky?"
"I've already told you, get your hand off my fucking leg."
"Not the hanger three door?"
"Wait, someone's actually seen the Demon?"
"No, dick, Ben saw the door, the Demon isn't real."
"Not Ben, fucking drunk, it's Brandy."
"Guys." Shouting again, Connor shuts them all up. "Fucks sake," standing, gesturing at them all, "come on. Who wants to go and see?"
"But." Beth, quietly, as she gets swept along in the groups wake. "I never said anything about the door."
Everybody piles into three cars, almost fifteen people by the time they've made it out the front. Luckily the two boys and one girl driving haven't drunk more then two pints between them, so the convoy makes it safely over to Battle, at which point everybody piles out, most still clutching a bottle or can, and the group makes it's noisy way over to hanger three.
"But," watching the drunk group walk and shuffle away, mostly grumbling, Beth gestures at the patch of wall, repeating what she'd tried to tell them earlier, "I didn't say I'd seen a door." None of the others turn, they're all, already, lost in almost a dozen different conversations, at least half of which aren't even about hanger three, or Demons. Beth follows them for several paces, trailing behind, trying to marshall her thoughts, before she realises that none of them cares anyway. Furthermore, having made it back to campus without the aid of a bus, and therefore richer now then she expected to be, Beth decides to let it drop, to go back to her dorm and eat some chocolate whilst watching YouTube on her laptop. If Louise is asleep she can always put her headphones on. Nodding, decision made, she takes a step towards the hangers exit, at which point a hissing sound comes, quietly, from behind her. Stopping, turning, Beth frowns. "What the fuck?" A door has just appeared, like magic she thinks with a nervous laugh.
Like all the internal doors in all the hangers, this one is wooden. The central corridor Beth stands in is dimly lit, because it's after midnight and the building isn't in use. Plus none of the drunks, Beth included, thought to flick more lighting on as they entered. The wood is dark. The door, doors really since like all the others this is a double, is just a plain slab with none of the windows or fancy woodwork you sometimes find. The right hand door has a black metal '10' screwed on at roughly chest height, all the hanger doors are thus numbered. From around the doors, from the small gaps between frame and actual door, a dim red light is pulsing softly. And from underneath, where door and floor don't quite meet, wisps of white smoke are escaping out into the corridor.
From somewhere behind her the main entrance door to hanger three bangs shut as the last of the drunken group leaves. Beth barely notices, her eyes are fixed forwards. She shakes her head, small side to side motions. "No." As though a verbal denial will be enough to send the door back wherever it came from. She takes a step forwards, tentative, like a child sneaking towards a friend who has their eyes closed and back turned. She takes another, pausing each time to breathe, aware of her thudding heartbeat. Seven more steps brings her within touching distance of the doors, which do indeed sit opposite those for room nine, in the correct spot. "Um." A nervous laugh escapes Beth's throat as she realises she doesn't actually have a plan. Why did she even walk towards the door? Panicking, feeling a sudden cold sweat break out across her back, she retreats a step. "S' only a door." Scolding herself now, which makes her laugh again, a short high sound. Beth looks left, then right. The whole hanger is deserted. She looks back at the door, biting her lip, stealing herself to do. Something. And then, with a click, followed by a quiet whoosh, the right hand door swings open.
"Ohfuckcrapshitshitshit." Stumbling backwards, away from the fast approaching drifting smoke that the inward swinging door has wafted her way, Beth trips over her own feet, and winds up sat on her butt, legs splayed out in front, arms out behind with hands resting on the floor. "Fuck." Trying to control her breathing, to slow her heart, Beth looks up, and comes very close to screaming as a shape emerges from room ten.
From out of the smoky red tinted darkness the Demon steps, moving towards Beth as she cowers, her body frozen with shock. The girl who fell, who then rose up out of the pit, has retained at least some of her human features in this new form. Slim toned legs, plus feet and ten toes, are all matt black as far up as the waist. Above this her skin is pure white, like a ghost, though both arms are covered in long trailing red scars, all of which look fresh and angry. Large round breasts are topped with nipples as white as the rest of her, yet between the legs she's smooth, like a child's doll. A pretty face is, depending on your point of view, spoiled or not by black ringed smudges around the eyes. And the head is topped by long matted black hair that twists and tumbles down her back.
The smoke pouring from the open doorway only adds to the overall look of her appearance.
A looped rope, a lasso, is flung out by the Demon. Beth blinks as the rope strikes her nose and falls to the ground in front of her, but doesn't move. The Demon grunts, shakes her head, jerking the rope back with a flick, bringing the loop back into her hand. Licking white lips she tries again, this time succeeding. The lasso snares Beth's body, and arms, constricting tight as the Demon pulls, tugging Beth's arms into her body as the loop of rope shrinks where it sits just below the now captured girls small breasts. Shaking her head, drunk brain crashing, unable to do anything now to help herself, Beth falls onto her side as the Demon pushes her over with one bare foot, before bending down over the skinny girl to finish immobilising her.
The long trailing end of the lasso is wrapped and tied around Beth's ankles, which, because the Demon tugs on the rope before knotting it for the first of several times, are pulled behind her up towards her butt, bending her legs, making a hogtie of sorts. With no other rope this tie will have to do.
Finally, far too late, Beth wakes from her fear induced coma. "What?" Trying to straighten her body, looking down at the rope tightly cinched under her breasts. "The fuck?" And then movement off to the side registers, she jerks her head around, and stares into the black eyes of the all too real Demon hunkered inches away. "No no no no." Shaking her head, trying to wriggle away across the floor, a task made difficult by the tight rope that prevents her legs from moving in any way save that mimicking a snake. "Fuck." Beth cries out as a white hand grabs at the rope running down her back. The Demon grins. "Yes yes yes." Spoken like a hiss as the Demon stands, rope in hand, and begins dragging Beth along the smooth floor.
Unable to escape, Beth can only watch, still shaking her head, refusing on some level to accept anything happening now as real, as the main entrance to hanger three moves further and further away, becoming obscured in smoke as it does. She moves from relative dim light into the almost dark of room ten. "Help." Almost a whisper, but the Demon hears, and laughs. Dropping the rope, walking around Beth she puts a hand on the door. "No help for you Beth." Shaking her head, grin lit up in pulsing red light. "Mine now." Pushing the door closed, trapping whisps of smoke out in the corridor.
By morning both the smoke, and the door, will be gone.
Oh. This just went full RopeBunny on us. As it was going to do. As it should have.More, please.
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tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 490
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Oh no! Poor Beth?! Will the 'other' Louise get to rescue her? What will happen next?!
On the edge of my seat....
On the edge of my seat....
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Risperdaltied
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 176
- Joined: 6 years ago
Shaping up to be another classic...
Bikinis + bondage = perfect combination
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
004.
Several days pass, a weekend comes and goes. Beth's disappearance- she does not emerge from room ten -is not generally noticed by either staff or students. Her teachers mark her absent, but take matters no further. Louise, her roommate, is prehaps in a position to notice the lack of Beth most. However, for obvious reasons, plus the fact that dorm room life is just so much better when she's all alone, Louise does nothing.
And then it's Monday.
"My daughter didn't come home this weekend."
"Well." the receptionist, Claire, looks up from the spreadsheet she'd been inputting data on, frowning at the middle aged lady stood before her. She sighs. Why do they, the parents, always think the university monitors their mostly teenage children to this degree? "I'm sorry," giving what she hopes is a reassuring smile, "Mrs?"
"Mrs." A nod. "Hoskins."
"Mrs Hoskins."
"Allie."
"Allie. I am sorry that you're daughter hasn't been home, however it really isn't our job to police the comings and goings of our students."
"Yes." A tight smile, a small nod. "I am of course aware of this. However, not only has my daughter not returned home as she'd previously planned to do, but I haven't heard from or been able to raise her since the middle of last week."
"I see." Looking down at her desk. Thinking. "Well." Claire frowns down at her computer. "There are certain things I am able to check. What's your daughters name?"
"Beth Hoskins."
"Right." Nodding. "Hold on." Claire's fingers become a blur as she types, closing windows, scrolling with her wireless mouse to select and expand others. "Well." Another frown. "It would appear that your daughter has been marked as absent from classes since Thursday."
"But then why..."
"Please." Holding up a hand. "I understand. However our policy is one week of absence before we investigate."
"You wait a whole week?"
"Students regularly fail to show up for a day or two." A shrug. "It's usually drink or drugs. Excess of some sort they need to sleep off. And whilst we don't condone such behaviour we aren't legally in a position to prevent it."
"So. What?" Spreading her arms. "That's it? I have to wait for you to act?"
"For us to act yes." Nodding. "However, should you wish to go and see your daughter then visitors are allowed on site." Taking a red leather bound book from a drawer, opening it up. "So long as you sign in and out."
"Okay." Nodding, taking the offered pen and filling in her details: name, time and date of arrival, reason for visit and car registration. "I shan't be long."
"I'll be here until five." Claire accepts her pen back. "And after that this building is manned by security, who can sign you out if needs be."
Turning to leave, a thought occurs. "If I might ask?"
"Yes?" Claire, having begun to work on the spreadsheet again, looks up. "Allie?"
"Beth. The last time we spoke," a shrug, a small smile, "it might be nothing. But she mentioned something about investigating a ghost."
"Ghost?"
"Well." Allie laughs. "She didn't actually say ghost. It was a door I think." Allie clicks her fingers. "Room ten."
"Oh." Claire laughs, making Allie frown. "Sorry." Waving a hand. "Room ten is our own little spooky tale here at Battle."
"Right?"
"Yes." Nodding. "One of the old hangers, number three, has a sealed up sinkhole in one corner."
"Is that safe?"
"Perfectly. The 'ghost story'," doing the finger gesture, "is from before my time. Students like to scare each other."
"Yes." Remembering her own college days. Smiling. "Yes they do."
"Well. It's said that this room ten, where the hole is, sometimes reappears."
"Oh." Laughing. "Well. My daughter does sometimes tend to overthink things."
"Here." Handing over a folded A4 map. "I've circled hanger three. If Beth isn't in her room, then I guess it's another spot to try."
"Thank you." Nodding, taking the paper, Allie turns and leaves, the door closing behind her.
Beth isn't in her room, which is locked, no sign of her roommate either.
Beth isn't in the student diner.
Beth isn't in the library.
And, prehaps understandably given the amount of courses and students attending Battle, nobody that Allie stops has any clue to Beth's whereabouts either.
Finally, more just to tick a box then because she actually expects to find anything- her daughter or some made up ghost room -Allie makes her way to hanger three.
It's cold in the central corridor. No doubt the late summer sun is warming the roof, but that heat can not fall, and besides the metal arch is high up. Allie hugs her arms around her skinny body, which, along with her small chest and pale freckled skin, not to mention her ginger red hair, are traits passed down to Beth. Though Allie's own hair is straight, and styled to fall in a choppy layered fashion not quite to her shoulders. Walking slowly, passing each opposite set of double doors in turn, Allie finds herself wishing she'd worn a coat, or even just a zipped hoodie. Her legs are fine, wrapped and hugged by faded dark red jeans, but her upper body is covered only barely by a short sleeved v necked white top. And a bra of course. Despite being an A, like Beth, Allie prefers her nipples not to be forever poking at her top. Of the nine rooms only number four is currently occupied, the low murmurs of a class in session coming through the wooden doors. And now here she is at the corridors end, facing the blank wall.
Smiling, shaking her head. Allie isn't even sure just what she expected to find. An actual door? No. Ghost stories are just that, stories. But. Frowning, Allie steps closer to the blank wall opposite the double doors to room nine. There's something. She can't say what, even up close, but the wall is different. Somehow. Making a fist she taps, three times, almost like knocking. Frowning, stepping several paces left, Allie taps again. The sound is definitely different. She steps back the other way, tapping again, making sure. But why the difference? She doesn't know. Stepping back she regards the wall, tapping her foot, brain turning over, thinking. Does this even mean anything? Should she go back, tell Claire what she's found? Is the wall only different because of the hole, because it got rebuilt or something?
For almost ten minutes Allie stands, thinking both on the wall, and on her daughter. Trying to decide where else she could look. Finally, with a nod, she turns to face the hangers main doors. Time to leave.
She gets thirteen paces before she hears a click, followed by a whoosh. Both of which are quiet. Frowning, stopping, Allie turns on her heel. "Oh?" More puzzled then either afraid or surprised, as she sees the suddenly appeared, and open, doorway to room ten, spilling red tinted smoke out into the corridor.
Allie gasps, taking a step forwards, as a figure emerges from the smoke. "Beth?" She almost whispers, making a question out of what she can see is definitely her daughter. The uncertainty in her tone stemming from how Beth looks. Aside from a small grey thong, no more then a small triangle to cover her modesty joined underneath and around the waist by elasticated string, Beth's naked. A large red ballgag fills her mouth, strapped and buckled in place by black leather that pins Beth's crazy hair to her face. Metal ankle cuffs, looking large and heavy, are linked together by a thick but short chain that prevents any movement beyond shuffling small steps. More metal, four thick cuffs joined together by a metal pole, lock Beth's arms behind her at wrists and elbows. Around her neck is a thick collar, also dull silver metal. A chain is hung from the collars back, hanging in midair as it leads back into the red tinted darkness of room four.
Stunned, Allie takes another step forwards, her hands reaching out to her daughter despite the distance still between them. Beth, still slowly shuffling, closing that distance, let's out a groan as the first bubbles of drool escape from around her gag, dripping onto her small exposed breasts. Allie takes a third step, and is about to break into a jog, when a second figure emerges beside Beth.
Looking exactly as she did before: black becoming white, black smudged eyes and messy hair, naked and busty yet without a visible pussy, the Demon strides out of the smoke, easily catching Beth up, at which point she stops, and places a bone white hand on the restrained girls shoulder, holding her in place. "Mine." The Demon hisses at Allie, now stopped some half dozen plus paces away, arms still at least partly reaching out towards her daughter. "What are you?" Blinking, trying to make sense of everything when she knows almost nothing of the apparently true tale. Allie points. "Please, I just want my daughter."
"No." Grinning, the Demon steps in close, dropping the hand from Beth's shoulder down and around, cuddling her in as she squeezes at a nipple. Licking Beth's cheek. Beth moans, the Demon returns it's gaze to Allie. "Those who stray too close belong to me. It is written."
"But." Thinking, wanting to simply rush in and take her daughter, by force if necessary. A mother's instinct towards protection is strong after all. And yet, Allie knows that she is no fighter, and this. Thing. That now has Beth in her clutches. Could she even win against whatever it is? Shaking her head. Knowing with that instinct what she must do. "Take me instead." Stepping one pace forwards. "Please. Let my daughter go, and take me."
"A trade?" The Demon tilts her head to the side, studying Allie, all the while still idly rolling Beth's nipple between her finger and thumb. "Yes." Swallowing, but nodding. "A trade. Please."
"I will require," tossing forwards what she'd been holding in her other hand, "proof of your intent." Allie looks down, seeing the heavy metal cuffs, the chains that link them, the one chain leading, like the one Beth wears, back into room ten. Her skin goes cold as a sweat breaks out up and down her back, whilst at the same time an unexpected tingling flares briefly to life between her legs. A sudden moment of arousal, sparked by a memory of times past. She nods. "Very well," pulling her top and bra up over her head, "but then you must let her go." Topless now, undoing the fastening on her jeans, staring at the Demon, ignoring the vigorous head shaking and moaning of her daughter. "Do you promise?"
"Yes." Licking her lips. "Proof," pointing at the piled metal. "And then I shall play my part."
It doesn't take long to finish stripping. Allie removes her pants, simple white cotton briefs with a small pink bow on the front, too, hoping the additional show of willingness will somehow help. Now, trying not to think on what might come after she's surrendered, she picks up the metal, beside which her small heap of clothes lies, and sets about chaining herself up.
First come the ankles, one cuff for each, connected by a small chain so that she too can shuffle but not run. A second chain links this to a third small chain between two more thick cuffs, for her wrists. Locked in front of her, the chains mean Allie can lift her arms up to her head, but no higher. Finally comes the metal collar, locked- it's a snug fit -around her neck, with its own chain that, like Beth's, is now half suspended in the air as it snakes back into room ten. No gag for her, at least none yet anyway.
Facing the Demon, who at least is no longer teasing her daughters breast, Allie gestures down at her chained and helpless naked body. There were no visible keyholes for any of the cuffs, they simply slotted together with a click, impossible to seperate, or so it seemed, once joined. "Now release her. Let my daughter be free."
"No." A shake of the head, even as a clanking sound begins from room ten, accompanied by a clump as Allie's chain begins to move along the wooden floor, being reeled in. Beth's chain is moving too it seems, for her neck suddenly jerks back toward the open doorway, forcing her to begin shuffling back towards the darkness lest she be pulled off her feet. "But," almost shouted as she too begins shuffling towards room ten, "you promised."
"Yes." Hissed through grinning teeth, as the Demon stands, watching Allie reach up to tug ineffectively at her collar. "But I lied."
The chains are retracted at speed, almost too fast for the helpless mother and daughter to keep up with, both are nearly pulled off their feet more then once. Allie screams out her frustrations at the watching, grinning, Demon, which of course has no effect regarding her situation. The screams do however draw a small crowd from room four. None of whom offer to help, or approach any closer then room four's door. With Beth and Allie safely over the threshold, now cloaked in darkness, the Demon turns her attention to the watching students, a half dozen yet to be joined by the classes lecturer. She waves, noticing that two have their phones held up, before turning and walking into room ten herself.
With a quiet boom the doors to room ten close, trapping a fair amount of smoke, plus Allie's clothes, out in the corridor. "Jake." Comes a male voice from inside room four. "Oliver. Jane. You too Paul. All of you now." All six turn, seeing their lecturer, Mr Dent, he of the stern face and large belly, advancing from the front of the room, having finished writing on the board and only now realising almost half of his class is no longer sat down paying attention. Mr Dent pushes through the small group, using his hands to both carve a path and shepherd them back inside. "Paul," stopped beside the last of his class, now outside in the corridor, Mr Dent looks left and right, seeing only the main entrance one way, and a small drift of faint white smoke- he doesn't see the clothes -in the other direction, "what's got you all out here?"
"Oh." Looking from his phone, where he'll later discover he, like his mate, forgot to push record, to the empty corridor, to Mr Dent. Paul shrugs. "Nothing Sir. Sorry." Paul steps back inside. With a frown at the smoke, Mr Dent follows, shutting the door behind him.
Not one of the six, nor Mr Dent, actually witnessed the door to room ten vanishing, though there is now a blank wall once again in it's place.
Several days pass, a weekend comes and goes. Beth's disappearance- she does not emerge from room ten -is not generally noticed by either staff or students. Her teachers mark her absent, but take matters no further. Louise, her roommate, is prehaps in a position to notice the lack of Beth most. However, for obvious reasons, plus the fact that dorm room life is just so much better when she's all alone, Louise does nothing.
And then it's Monday.
"My daughter didn't come home this weekend."
"Well." the receptionist, Claire, looks up from the spreadsheet she'd been inputting data on, frowning at the middle aged lady stood before her. She sighs. Why do they, the parents, always think the university monitors their mostly teenage children to this degree? "I'm sorry," giving what she hopes is a reassuring smile, "Mrs?"
"Mrs." A nod. "Hoskins."
"Mrs Hoskins."
"Allie."
"Allie. I am sorry that you're daughter hasn't been home, however it really isn't our job to police the comings and goings of our students."
"Yes." A tight smile, a small nod. "I am of course aware of this. However, not only has my daughter not returned home as she'd previously planned to do, but I haven't heard from or been able to raise her since the middle of last week."
"I see." Looking down at her desk. Thinking. "Well." Claire frowns down at her computer. "There are certain things I am able to check. What's your daughters name?"
"Beth Hoskins."
"Right." Nodding. "Hold on." Claire's fingers become a blur as she types, closing windows, scrolling with her wireless mouse to select and expand others. "Well." Another frown. "It would appear that your daughter has been marked as absent from classes since Thursday."
"But then why..."
"Please." Holding up a hand. "I understand. However our policy is one week of absence before we investigate."
"You wait a whole week?"
"Students regularly fail to show up for a day or two." A shrug. "It's usually drink or drugs. Excess of some sort they need to sleep off. And whilst we don't condone such behaviour we aren't legally in a position to prevent it."
"So. What?" Spreading her arms. "That's it? I have to wait for you to act?"
"For us to act yes." Nodding. "However, should you wish to go and see your daughter then visitors are allowed on site." Taking a red leather bound book from a drawer, opening it up. "So long as you sign in and out."
"Okay." Nodding, taking the offered pen and filling in her details: name, time and date of arrival, reason for visit and car registration. "I shan't be long."
"I'll be here until five." Claire accepts her pen back. "And after that this building is manned by security, who can sign you out if needs be."
Turning to leave, a thought occurs. "If I might ask?"
"Yes?" Claire, having begun to work on the spreadsheet again, looks up. "Allie?"
"Beth. The last time we spoke," a shrug, a small smile, "it might be nothing. But she mentioned something about investigating a ghost."
"Ghost?"
"Well." Allie laughs. "She didn't actually say ghost. It was a door I think." Allie clicks her fingers. "Room ten."
"Oh." Claire laughs, making Allie frown. "Sorry." Waving a hand. "Room ten is our own little spooky tale here at Battle."
"Right?"
"Yes." Nodding. "One of the old hangers, number three, has a sealed up sinkhole in one corner."
"Is that safe?"
"Perfectly. The 'ghost story'," doing the finger gesture, "is from before my time. Students like to scare each other."
"Yes." Remembering her own college days. Smiling. "Yes they do."
"Well. It's said that this room ten, where the hole is, sometimes reappears."
"Oh." Laughing. "Well. My daughter does sometimes tend to overthink things."
"Here." Handing over a folded A4 map. "I've circled hanger three. If Beth isn't in her room, then I guess it's another spot to try."
"Thank you." Nodding, taking the paper, Allie turns and leaves, the door closing behind her.
Beth isn't in her room, which is locked, no sign of her roommate either.
Beth isn't in the student diner.
Beth isn't in the library.
And, prehaps understandably given the amount of courses and students attending Battle, nobody that Allie stops has any clue to Beth's whereabouts either.
Finally, more just to tick a box then because she actually expects to find anything- her daughter or some made up ghost room -Allie makes her way to hanger three.
It's cold in the central corridor. No doubt the late summer sun is warming the roof, but that heat can not fall, and besides the metal arch is high up. Allie hugs her arms around her skinny body, which, along with her small chest and pale freckled skin, not to mention her ginger red hair, are traits passed down to Beth. Though Allie's own hair is straight, and styled to fall in a choppy layered fashion not quite to her shoulders. Walking slowly, passing each opposite set of double doors in turn, Allie finds herself wishing she'd worn a coat, or even just a zipped hoodie. Her legs are fine, wrapped and hugged by faded dark red jeans, but her upper body is covered only barely by a short sleeved v necked white top. And a bra of course. Despite being an A, like Beth, Allie prefers her nipples not to be forever poking at her top. Of the nine rooms only number four is currently occupied, the low murmurs of a class in session coming through the wooden doors. And now here she is at the corridors end, facing the blank wall.
Smiling, shaking her head. Allie isn't even sure just what she expected to find. An actual door? No. Ghost stories are just that, stories. But. Frowning, Allie steps closer to the blank wall opposite the double doors to room nine. There's something. She can't say what, even up close, but the wall is different. Somehow. Making a fist she taps, three times, almost like knocking. Frowning, stepping several paces left, Allie taps again. The sound is definitely different. She steps back the other way, tapping again, making sure. But why the difference? She doesn't know. Stepping back she regards the wall, tapping her foot, brain turning over, thinking. Does this even mean anything? Should she go back, tell Claire what she's found? Is the wall only different because of the hole, because it got rebuilt or something?
For almost ten minutes Allie stands, thinking both on the wall, and on her daughter. Trying to decide where else she could look. Finally, with a nod, she turns to face the hangers main doors. Time to leave.
She gets thirteen paces before she hears a click, followed by a whoosh. Both of which are quiet. Frowning, stopping, Allie turns on her heel. "Oh?" More puzzled then either afraid or surprised, as she sees the suddenly appeared, and open, doorway to room ten, spilling red tinted smoke out into the corridor.
Allie gasps, taking a step forwards, as a figure emerges from the smoke. "Beth?" She almost whispers, making a question out of what she can see is definitely her daughter. The uncertainty in her tone stemming from how Beth looks. Aside from a small grey thong, no more then a small triangle to cover her modesty joined underneath and around the waist by elasticated string, Beth's naked. A large red ballgag fills her mouth, strapped and buckled in place by black leather that pins Beth's crazy hair to her face. Metal ankle cuffs, looking large and heavy, are linked together by a thick but short chain that prevents any movement beyond shuffling small steps. More metal, four thick cuffs joined together by a metal pole, lock Beth's arms behind her at wrists and elbows. Around her neck is a thick collar, also dull silver metal. A chain is hung from the collars back, hanging in midair as it leads back into the red tinted darkness of room four.
Stunned, Allie takes another step forwards, her hands reaching out to her daughter despite the distance still between them. Beth, still slowly shuffling, closing that distance, let's out a groan as the first bubbles of drool escape from around her gag, dripping onto her small exposed breasts. Allie takes a third step, and is about to break into a jog, when a second figure emerges beside Beth.
Looking exactly as she did before: black becoming white, black smudged eyes and messy hair, naked and busty yet without a visible pussy, the Demon strides out of the smoke, easily catching Beth up, at which point she stops, and places a bone white hand on the restrained girls shoulder, holding her in place. "Mine." The Demon hisses at Allie, now stopped some half dozen plus paces away, arms still at least partly reaching out towards her daughter. "What are you?" Blinking, trying to make sense of everything when she knows almost nothing of the apparently true tale. Allie points. "Please, I just want my daughter."
"No." Grinning, the Demon steps in close, dropping the hand from Beth's shoulder down and around, cuddling her in as she squeezes at a nipple. Licking Beth's cheek. Beth moans, the Demon returns it's gaze to Allie. "Those who stray too close belong to me. It is written."
"But." Thinking, wanting to simply rush in and take her daughter, by force if necessary. A mother's instinct towards protection is strong after all. And yet, Allie knows that she is no fighter, and this. Thing. That now has Beth in her clutches. Could she even win against whatever it is? Shaking her head. Knowing with that instinct what she must do. "Take me instead." Stepping one pace forwards. "Please. Let my daughter go, and take me."
"A trade?" The Demon tilts her head to the side, studying Allie, all the while still idly rolling Beth's nipple between her finger and thumb. "Yes." Swallowing, but nodding. "A trade. Please."
"I will require," tossing forwards what she'd been holding in her other hand, "proof of your intent." Allie looks down, seeing the heavy metal cuffs, the chains that link them, the one chain leading, like the one Beth wears, back into room ten. Her skin goes cold as a sweat breaks out up and down her back, whilst at the same time an unexpected tingling flares briefly to life between her legs. A sudden moment of arousal, sparked by a memory of times past. She nods. "Very well," pulling her top and bra up over her head, "but then you must let her go." Topless now, undoing the fastening on her jeans, staring at the Demon, ignoring the vigorous head shaking and moaning of her daughter. "Do you promise?"
"Yes." Licking her lips. "Proof," pointing at the piled metal. "And then I shall play my part."
It doesn't take long to finish stripping. Allie removes her pants, simple white cotton briefs with a small pink bow on the front, too, hoping the additional show of willingness will somehow help. Now, trying not to think on what might come after she's surrendered, she picks up the metal, beside which her small heap of clothes lies, and sets about chaining herself up.
First come the ankles, one cuff for each, connected by a small chain so that she too can shuffle but not run. A second chain links this to a third small chain between two more thick cuffs, for her wrists. Locked in front of her, the chains mean Allie can lift her arms up to her head, but no higher. Finally comes the metal collar, locked- it's a snug fit -around her neck, with its own chain that, like Beth's, is now half suspended in the air as it snakes back into room ten. No gag for her, at least none yet anyway.
Facing the Demon, who at least is no longer teasing her daughters breast, Allie gestures down at her chained and helpless naked body. There were no visible keyholes for any of the cuffs, they simply slotted together with a click, impossible to seperate, or so it seemed, once joined. "Now release her. Let my daughter be free."
"No." A shake of the head, even as a clanking sound begins from room ten, accompanied by a clump as Allie's chain begins to move along the wooden floor, being reeled in. Beth's chain is moving too it seems, for her neck suddenly jerks back toward the open doorway, forcing her to begin shuffling back towards the darkness lest she be pulled off her feet. "But," almost shouted as she too begins shuffling towards room ten, "you promised."
"Yes." Hissed through grinning teeth, as the Demon stands, watching Allie reach up to tug ineffectively at her collar. "But I lied."
The chains are retracted at speed, almost too fast for the helpless mother and daughter to keep up with, both are nearly pulled off their feet more then once. Allie screams out her frustrations at the watching, grinning, Demon, which of course has no effect regarding her situation. The screams do however draw a small crowd from room four. None of whom offer to help, or approach any closer then room four's door. With Beth and Allie safely over the threshold, now cloaked in darkness, the Demon turns her attention to the watching students, a half dozen yet to be joined by the classes lecturer. She waves, noticing that two have their phones held up, before turning and walking into room ten herself.
With a quiet boom the doors to room ten close, trapping a fair amount of smoke, plus Allie's clothes, out in the corridor. "Jake." Comes a male voice from inside room four. "Oliver. Jane. You too Paul. All of you now." All six turn, seeing their lecturer, Mr Dent, he of the stern face and large belly, advancing from the front of the room, having finished writing on the board and only now realising almost half of his class is no longer sat down paying attention. Mr Dent pushes through the small group, using his hands to both carve a path and shepherd them back inside. "Paul," stopped beside the last of his class, now outside in the corridor, Mr Dent looks left and right, seeing only the main entrance one way, and a small drift of faint white smoke- he doesn't see the clothes -in the other direction, "what's got you all out here?"
"Oh." Looking from his phone, where he'll later discover he, like his mate, forgot to push record, to the empty corridor, to Mr Dent. Paul shrugs. "Nothing Sir. Sorry." Paul steps back inside. With a frown at the smoke, Mr Dent follows, shutting the door behind him.
Not one of the six, nor Mr Dent, actually witnessed the door to room ten vanishing, though there is now a blank wall once again in it's place.
Last edited by RopeBunny 3 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
That for the continuing comments/support.
[mention]NotSeen[/mention] more here now and still more to come
[mention]NotSeen[/mention] more here now
and still more to come -
tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 490
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Fantastically detailed update - makes me wish I was back at university....!!!
You can't trust the demons these days either...who can you trust?
You can't trust the demons these days either...who can you trust?
-
Risperdaltied
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 176
- Joined: 6 years ago
And so the tie ups begin....
Bikinis + bondage = perfect combination
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
005.
By the time the class in room four lets out the small heap of Allie's clothes is gone.
But, unfortunately for certain parties, those clothes weren't the only evidence of her being on campus.
"You look tense Claire," Holly, the university vice principal, smiles, nodding to accept the cup of steaming coffee, "thanks. Worried even?"
"Well." A grimace crossing her face, Claire sits down on the other side of Holly's desk, setting down her own cup. She opens up her notebook, tapping the lined paper with her pen. "I think," shaking her head, "that we might have a missing parent on campus."
"What?" Coughing, putting her coffee down quickly to avoid spilling any more, Holly gives Claire a wide eyed look. "Don't you mean missing student?"
"Oh. Well." Smiling, but without enthusiasm. "I think we've got one of them too."
"Prehaps," shaking her head, taking out paper and a pen of her own, "you'd better explain."
"The students name is Beth Hoskins."
"Right." Taking notes, looking up. "And it's her...?"
"Mother."
"So Beth and her Mother...."
"Allie."
"Right. Beth and Allie Hoskins are, missing?"
"I." Looking down, shaking her head. "I think so?"
"Hmm." Holly points her pen towards her office door, towards the buildings main front doors beyond. "Would I be right in assuming that's Allie's car blocking the principals space outside?"
"Yes. Sorry."
"Don't be." Smiling. "Actually kind of funny the way he gets upset sometimes." Holly shuts her mouth, points at Claire. "You didn't hear that from me."
"Of course not." Smiling back, sharing the joke. "Is it tomorrow he's back?"
"Yes." Holly turns to check her wall mounted planner. "Back from that seminar up north."
"Should we leave this for him to sort then?"
"No." Brushing the thought aside. "Tell me what you've got, and I'll have a bash." Holly shrugs. "If I need to bump it up the chain of command, call in the police God help us." Shaking her head. "Or worse, the board. Then it can be Will's problem."
"Okay." Claire looks down at her notes. "Well. Beth's been absent since Thursday. No reasons given. And her Mother arrived yesterday. I explained our procedures, but she wanted to go walkabout."
"So she signed in?"
"Yes." Pulling the visitors book out from underneath her notebook, handing it across. "As you can see...."
"She didn't sign out." Holly taps the blank space on the page. Looking back at Claire. "And that's all we have? No clue where on campus she was going?"
"Well." Fidgeting. "Her daughters room, maybe the library and canteen."
"And?" Fixing Claire with a look. "Come on, spill, I can see you dancing around. What's made you nervous?"
"Room ten." Blurted out. Holly laughs. "Oh. Come on. Don't tell me you believe in this crap too?"
"No." Said quietly though, with an accompanying unconvincing looking shake of her head. "Honestly." Holly shakes her own head, smiling. "Now why would our own local horror story have anything to do with this?"
"Beth mentioned room ten to her Mother," staring, mostly out of embarrassment, at her notes, "one of the last times they spoke apparently."
"So you told Allie where room ten is supposed to be?"
"Yes."
"And now she's missing."
"Yes." Nodding, now Claire does look up. "You don't think?"
"No." Taking a sip, preferring her coffee hot. "No, Claire, I don't think after all this time, all these years and all the various staff who've wandered into and out of hanger three. Not to mention the students who I know dare each other to go touch the wall whenever a bunch of them get drunk enough. I don't think that now, suddenly, room ten is a real thing."
"Okay." Trying to smile. "Good."
"Calm yourself." Picking up Claire's coffee, handing it across. "Beth and her Mother have not been dragged down into some Demon girls bottomless pit."
"No." Drinking. "No, I guess that would be silly." Claire laughs, a halfway nervous sound. "Exactly." Holly nods, smiling. "But though," Claire holds up a finger, "where are they?"
"Hmm."
In the end, having checked out Beth's room, which is empty, and spoken with the missing girls teachers to verbally confirm her absence, plus to make sure none of them noticed anything off with her, Holly is left with two choices: make the issue official, which will mean alerting the police, and Will. Or continue to investigate herself, which means, even if only to visibly confirm Beth and Allie's absence from the building as a whole, she needs to visit hanger three.
There are no lectures scheduled in hanger three today, and, making things easier still, the building, all nine rooms, would've been cleaned either late yesterday or early today. So she'll have the place to herself, with no chance of being walked in on. Holly goes to find campus security first though.
"I'm going over to hanger three." Holly tells Tony, currently on duty. Sat behind his desk, which is covered with a mass of untidy paperwork, most of it stained by tea rings or ground in biscuit crumbs, Tony nods. "Right." Looking around for his keys. "You need me to come?"
"No." Shaking her head. Beth's absence isn't yet known to anyone aside from herself, Claire, and a half dozen teachers. Holly sees no reason at this stage to involve anyone else. "I've got keys to the building." She holds them up. "I'll be locking the door behind me. All I need from you is that, until you hear from me, don't allow anyone else access."
"You're locking yourself in hanger three?" Scratching his stubble. "Why?"
"Conducting a building review." The lie coming easily. "Best I'm not disturbed."
"Right." Tony nods. "I'll see to it."
"Thanks Tony." Holly nods, smiles, leaves him to it.
Unlike yesterday a light but persistent rain is falling. Holly combats this by wearing a lightweight dark blue waterproof jacket over her white shirt and pleated knee length black skirt. Underneath the skirt her legs are bare, since it isn't yet cold, and knee high slip on black boots add a couple of inches to her height. All her shirts are long sleeved, though Holly always rolls the sleeves up, yet she could never feel comfortable in a short sleeved button up shirt. Her current white shirt, she has other colours, fits snugly over her curvy C cup figure, the top buttons undone to give a hint of cleavage. Dark brown hair is tied back in a loose tail.
Hanging her wet jacket over one of the two door handles, having first locked the doors, then slipped her keys into a jacket pocket, Holly turns around, surveying hanger three. When she first started at Battle, five years ago now just after her thirtieth birthday, she'd made a point of walking the whole campus once a week, checking all the buildings, plus the perimeter fence, for any issues. She lost the habit over a year ago, other priorities took over, other tasks demanding more of her attention. Looking around now, at the empty silent corridor, Holly smiles, she misses those tours, they'd always given her a good reason to get out and enjoy some fresh air.
Taking her time Holly moves from room to room, searching each, confirming that neither Beth nor Allie are inside, until finally all that's left is the blank wall, the lack of room ten.
Standing in front of the wall, her position an echo of Beth and Allie, though she can't know this, Holly frowns at the wall. Memory of all the times she's been here is prodding at her, a recollection of this blank wall, of how it looks. Or, Holly shakes her head, how it looked to be more precise. "Well well well." Smiling, looking left and right along the walls length. Holly nods. The wall is different to how she remembers. It's new. To her trained eyes she can see the difference in colour and, stepping forwards she runs a hand over the surface, nods, the texture is noticeably changed too. This section, the blank part, is not the same as the rest. Not the same as it used to be.
Holly knocks, three times, loudly, on the wall, directly opposite room nine's double doors. "I don't know what's going on," half shouted, "or why. But I know that, whoever you are. Somehow you're back there." Holly nods. "You've got ten minutes to come on out and face me, otherwise." A shrug. "I'll be taking out this wall with a sledgehammer." Retreating across the corridor to lean against the wall beside room nine's doors, Holly calls across the space. "Choice is yours." Tapping her wrist, where an expensive silver watch is strapped. Smiling across at the blank wall. "Clock's ticking."
"Fucking interfering jobsworth." Louise comments, her smile and tone robbing the words of any real malice.
Beyond the, of course new, blank section of wall, room ten does indeed exist. It always did. The staff, and any student who bothered to consider the story properly, always knew this to be so. But now the room has been taken over, changed, to suit one girls purpose. In the middle of the large space sits what remains of the sinkhole, which collapsed in on itself decades ago and now resembles nothing more then a large circular patch of uneven ground. Like a collapsed grave. Several wide wooden boards have been laid across the sunken ground, aiding travel around the room, removing the need to always go around the edge. One corner of the room resembles a living area. A fridge sits next to a small portable cooking stove, beside which is a working sink. A toilet, connected to the original plumbing, sits in a second corner. Over half of one wall is taken up by cells. There are six, arranged side by side. Each is only large enough, just about, for an adult to lay down in, roughly a six by six foot floor area. Each contains a simple metal frame bed. So far only two of the cells are occupied, though one stands empty, it's door hanging open. Inside the second stands Allie, still naked and cuffed at wrists and ankles, though no longer collared. She's clutching the bars with both hands, unable to talk due to her ballgag, looking across the room at her daughter.
Beth has been lashed tightly to a wooden table with ropes, one per limb, stretching her skinny naked body out into an X shape. A ballgag fills her mouth and a wand style vibrator is strapped to her upper leg, it's tip nestled up against her pussy. The vibrator is currently on a low setting, just enough to annoy over time, not turned up high enough to bring any kind of relief. Leaning against Beth's side is a black tablet, and, sat in a folding metal chair beside the table, looking at the tablet, is Louise.
On the tablet is the view from one of seven small cameras, each nestled up in the roof of hanger three's main corridor. The view Louise has selected shows Holly, leaning across from room ten, occasionally glancing at her watch. "Hmm." Louise ponders, idly drumming fingers on Beth's leg, making the ginger haired girl moan. "Ten minutes. Less now." Louise shakes her head, looking over towards the tall freestanding mirror and suitcase near the kitchen. "Not nearly enough time to change." Grinning, she gives Beth's upper leg a squeeze. "Takes almost ten minutes just to put all that white paint on." She looks again at the image on her laptop, knowing that Holly will be as good as her word, that this is now the endgame. "But I'm not really in the mood to surrender." Musing out loud, standing, walking over to the suitcase. "I'll just have to improvise," looking at Allie, "right?"
With less then one minute remaining Holly hears a hissing sound, and stands up straight, watching, as before her a section of wall smoothly glides to one side, slotting into more wall, revealing wooden double doors with a metal 10 screwed in place. Almost immediately both doors swing open inwards, revealing pulsing red tinted darkness, and of course the smoke, which comes pouring enthusiastically out of the doorway. Unsure for a moment just what to do now, having not expected quite such a dramatic reveal, Holly is about to take a step forwards, when Louise emerges from out of the smoke, arms held wide out either side, and a big grin on her face.
"Ta dah."
"Sorry." Holly, looking from Louise to the open doorway behind her, frowns. "I can see this is some kind of big moment," shaking her head, unable to prevent a small smile leaking out, "but. Am I supposed to know who you're pretending to be?"
"Not really." Louise shakes her head, looking down at the open black robe that doesn't really cover her bra and thong clad body. "I'm not technically wearing it right anyway." A shrug. "The actual Ki-Bak-Furi robes are sleeveless." A pause. "I think? Plus she doesn't wear any clothes underneath."
"Ki who?" Frowning. "Is that Latin?"
"Fucked if I know." A shake of the head. "I had to improvise, normally got more time to change. This," giving a small twirl, "kinda an emergency stand in. A picture I found in a book. Probably just made up anyway."
"Made up like all this huh?" Holly gestures around, at the smoke tumbling around both girls feet, at the red tinted dark room beyond Louise. She shakes her head. "Who are you?"
"Didn't we just cover that? I'm Ki...."
"No." Holding up a hand. "Not the costume. You. I want to know who you are?"
"Oh." Smiling. "Well that's easy." Holding out a hand. "Louise Smith."
"Smith." Nodding, Holly doesn't step forwards to shake hands. "Are you a student here?"
"When I feel like it."
"Ha." Smiling. "Funny girl. Well." A shrug. "I'm afraid it's time to stop this game now." Taking a step forwards. "I'm just going to go ahead and assume Beth and her Mother are in there someplace?"
"Umm." Louise giggles. "Maybe."
"Right." Holly puts her hands on her hips, aiming for an authoritative stance and tone. "Well then, it's time to hand them over. Louise. Then we'll go to my office and discuss your future here at Battle."
"No."
"No?"
"Sorry." Louise lifts an arm, shooting Holly with a tranquilliser dart from the pistol she'd been concealing in her sleeve. "But, you see." Smiling as Holly's eyes begin to loose focus, the fast acting concoction taking effect. "I'm still having too much fun to stop." Louise gives Holly a cheeky wave as the vice principal takes a step towards her, then collapses into a heap, her eyes closed. "And besides," tossing the pistol into room ten, taking one of Holly's ankles in each hand, Louise begins pulling her backwards into the darkness, "you never even said please."
By the time the class in room four lets out the small heap of Allie's clothes is gone.
But, unfortunately for certain parties, those clothes weren't the only evidence of her being on campus.
"You look tense Claire," Holly, the university vice principal, smiles, nodding to accept the cup of steaming coffee, "thanks. Worried even?"
"Well." A grimace crossing her face, Claire sits down on the other side of Holly's desk, setting down her own cup. She opens up her notebook, tapping the lined paper with her pen. "I think," shaking her head, "that we might have a missing parent on campus."
"What?" Coughing, putting her coffee down quickly to avoid spilling any more, Holly gives Claire a wide eyed look. "Don't you mean missing student?"
"Oh. Well." Smiling, but without enthusiasm. "I think we've got one of them too."
"Prehaps," shaking her head, taking out paper and a pen of her own, "you'd better explain."
"The students name is Beth Hoskins."
"Right." Taking notes, looking up. "And it's her...?"
"Mother."
"So Beth and her Mother...."
"Allie."
"Right. Beth and Allie Hoskins are, missing?"
"I." Looking down, shaking her head. "I think so?"
"Hmm." Holly points her pen towards her office door, towards the buildings main front doors beyond. "Would I be right in assuming that's Allie's car blocking the principals space outside?"
"Yes. Sorry."
"Don't be." Smiling. "Actually kind of funny the way he gets upset sometimes." Holly shuts her mouth, points at Claire. "You didn't hear that from me."
"Of course not." Smiling back, sharing the joke. "Is it tomorrow he's back?"
"Yes." Holly turns to check her wall mounted planner. "Back from that seminar up north."
"Should we leave this for him to sort then?"
"No." Brushing the thought aside. "Tell me what you've got, and I'll have a bash." Holly shrugs. "If I need to bump it up the chain of command, call in the police God help us." Shaking her head. "Or worse, the board. Then it can be Will's problem."
"Okay." Claire looks down at her notes. "Well. Beth's been absent since Thursday. No reasons given. And her Mother arrived yesterday. I explained our procedures, but she wanted to go walkabout."
"So she signed in?"
"Yes." Pulling the visitors book out from underneath her notebook, handing it across. "As you can see...."
"She didn't sign out." Holly taps the blank space on the page. Looking back at Claire. "And that's all we have? No clue where on campus she was going?"
"Well." Fidgeting. "Her daughters room, maybe the library and canteen."
"And?" Fixing Claire with a look. "Come on, spill, I can see you dancing around. What's made you nervous?"
"Room ten." Blurted out. Holly laughs. "Oh. Come on. Don't tell me you believe in this crap too?"
"No." Said quietly though, with an accompanying unconvincing looking shake of her head. "Honestly." Holly shakes her own head, smiling. "Now why would our own local horror story have anything to do with this?"
"Beth mentioned room ten to her Mother," staring, mostly out of embarrassment, at her notes, "one of the last times they spoke apparently."
"So you told Allie where room ten is supposed to be?"
"Yes."
"And now she's missing."
"Yes." Nodding, now Claire does look up. "You don't think?"
"No." Taking a sip, preferring her coffee hot. "No, Claire, I don't think after all this time, all these years and all the various staff who've wandered into and out of hanger three. Not to mention the students who I know dare each other to go touch the wall whenever a bunch of them get drunk enough. I don't think that now, suddenly, room ten is a real thing."
"Okay." Trying to smile. "Good."
"Calm yourself." Picking up Claire's coffee, handing it across. "Beth and her Mother have not been dragged down into some Demon girls bottomless pit."
"No." Drinking. "No, I guess that would be silly." Claire laughs, a halfway nervous sound. "Exactly." Holly nods, smiling. "But though," Claire holds up a finger, "where are they?"
"Hmm."
In the end, having checked out Beth's room, which is empty, and spoken with the missing girls teachers to verbally confirm her absence, plus to make sure none of them noticed anything off with her, Holly is left with two choices: make the issue official, which will mean alerting the police, and Will. Or continue to investigate herself, which means, even if only to visibly confirm Beth and Allie's absence from the building as a whole, she needs to visit hanger three.
There are no lectures scheduled in hanger three today, and, making things easier still, the building, all nine rooms, would've been cleaned either late yesterday or early today. So she'll have the place to herself, with no chance of being walked in on. Holly goes to find campus security first though.
"I'm going over to hanger three." Holly tells Tony, currently on duty. Sat behind his desk, which is covered with a mass of untidy paperwork, most of it stained by tea rings or ground in biscuit crumbs, Tony nods. "Right." Looking around for his keys. "You need me to come?"
"No." Shaking her head. Beth's absence isn't yet known to anyone aside from herself, Claire, and a half dozen teachers. Holly sees no reason at this stage to involve anyone else. "I've got keys to the building." She holds them up. "I'll be locking the door behind me. All I need from you is that, until you hear from me, don't allow anyone else access."
"You're locking yourself in hanger three?" Scratching his stubble. "Why?"
"Conducting a building review." The lie coming easily. "Best I'm not disturbed."
"Right." Tony nods. "I'll see to it."
"Thanks Tony." Holly nods, smiles, leaves him to it.
Unlike yesterday a light but persistent rain is falling. Holly combats this by wearing a lightweight dark blue waterproof jacket over her white shirt and pleated knee length black skirt. Underneath the skirt her legs are bare, since it isn't yet cold, and knee high slip on black boots add a couple of inches to her height. All her shirts are long sleeved, though Holly always rolls the sleeves up, yet she could never feel comfortable in a short sleeved button up shirt. Her current white shirt, she has other colours, fits snugly over her curvy C cup figure, the top buttons undone to give a hint of cleavage. Dark brown hair is tied back in a loose tail.
Hanging her wet jacket over one of the two door handles, having first locked the doors, then slipped her keys into a jacket pocket, Holly turns around, surveying hanger three. When she first started at Battle, five years ago now just after her thirtieth birthday, she'd made a point of walking the whole campus once a week, checking all the buildings, plus the perimeter fence, for any issues. She lost the habit over a year ago, other priorities took over, other tasks demanding more of her attention. Looking around now, at the empty silent corridor, Holly smiles, she misses those tours, they'd always given her a good reason to get out and enjoy some fresh air.
Taking her time Holly moves from room to room, searching each, confirming that neither Beth nor Allie are inside, until finally all that's left is the blank wall, the lack of room ten.
Standing in front of the wall, her position an echo of Beth and Allie, though she can't know this, Holly frowns at the wall. Memory of all the times she's been here is prodding at her, a recollection of this blank wall, of how it looks. Or, Holly shakes her head, how it looked to be more precise. "Well well well." Smiling, looking left and right along the walls length. Holly nods. The wall is different to how she remembers. It's new. To her trained eyes she can see the difference in colour and, stepping forwards she runs a hand over the surface, nods, the texture is noticeably changed too. This section, the blank part, is not the same as the rest. Not the same as it used to be.
Holly knocks, three times, loudly, on the wall, directly opposite room nine's double doors. "I don't know what's going on," half shouted, "or why. But I know that, whoever you are. Somehow you're back there." Holly nods. "You've got ten minutes to come on out and face me, otherwise." A shrug. "I'll be taking out this wall with a sledgehammer." Retreating across the corridor to lean against the wall beside room nine's doors, Holly calls across the space. "Choice is yours." Tapping her wrist, where an expensive silver watch is strapped. Smiling across at the blank wall. "Clock's ticking."
"Fucking interfering jobsworth." Louise comments, her smile and tone robbing the words of any real malice.
Beyond the, of course new, blank section of wall, room ten does indeed exist. It always did. The staff, and any student who bothered to consider the story properly, always knew this to be so. But now the room has been taken over, changed, to suit one girls purpose. In the middle of the large space sits what remains of the sinkhole, which collapsed in on itself decades ago and now resembles nothing more then a large circular patch of uneven ground. Like a collapsed grave. Several wide wooden boards have been laid across the sunken ground, aiding travel around the room, removing the need to always go around the edge. One corner of the room resembles a living area. A fridge sits next to a small portable cooking stove, beside which is a working sink. A toilet, connected to the original plumbing, sits in a second corner. Over half of one wall is taken up by cells. There are six, arranged side by side. Each is only large enough, just about, for an adult to lay down in, roughly a six by six foot floor area. Each contains a simple metal frame bed. So far only two of the cells are occupied, though one stands empty, it's door hanging open. Inside the second stands Allie, still naked and cuffed at wrists and ankles, though no longer collared. She's clutching the bars with both hands, unable to talk due to her ballgag, looking across the room at her daughter.
Beth has been lashed tightly to a wooden table with ropes, one per limb, stretching her skinny naked body out into an X shape. A ballgag fills her mouth and a wand style vibrator is strapped to her upper leg, it's tip nestled up against her pussy. The vibrator is currently on a low setting, just enough to annoy over time, not turned up high enough to bring any kind of relief. Leaning against Beth's side is a black tablet, and, sat in a folding metal chair beside the table, looking at the tablet, is Louise.
On the tablet is the view from one of seven small cameras, each nestled up in the roof of hanger three's main corridor. The view Louise has selected shows Holly, leaning across from room ten, occasionally glancing at her watch. "Hmm." Louise ponders, idly drumming fingers on Beth's leg, making the ginger haired girl moan. "Ten minutes. Less now." Louise shakes her head, looking over towards the tall freestanding mirror and suitcase near the kitchen. "Not nearly enough time to change." Grinning, she gives Beth's upper leg a squeeze. "Takes almost ten minutes just to put all that white paint on." She looks again at the image on her laptop, knowing that Holly will be as good as her word, that this is now the endgame. "But I'm not really in the mood to surrender." Musing out loud, standing, walking over to the suitcase. "I'll just have to improvise," looking at Allie, "right?"
With less then one minute remaining Holly hears a hissing sound, and stands up straight, watching, as before her a section of wall smoothly glides to one side, slotting into more wall, revealing wooden double doors with a metal 10 screwed in place. Almost immediately both doors swing open inwards, revealing pulsing red tinted darkness, and of course the smoke, which comes pouring enthusiastically out of the doorway. Unsure for a moment just what to do now, having not expected quite such a dramatic reveal, Holly is about to take a step forwards, when Louise emerges from out of the smoke, arms held wide out either side, and a big grin on her face.
"Ta dah."
"Sorry." Holly, looking from Louise to the open doorway behind her, frowns. "I can see this is some kind of big moment," shaking her head, unable to prevent a small smile leaking out, "but. Am I supposed to know who you're pretending to be?"
"Not really." Louise shakes her head, looking down at the open black robe that doesn't really cover her bra and thong clad body. "I'm not technically wearing it right anyway." A shrug. "The actual Ki-Bak-Furi robes are sleeveless." A pause. "I think? Plus she doesn't wear any clothes underneath."
"Ki who?" Frowning. "Is that Latin?"
"Fucked if I know." A shake of the head. "I had to improvise, normally got more time to change. This," giving a small twirl, "kinda an emergency stand in. A picture I found in a book. Probably just made up anyway."
"Made up like all this huh?" Holly gestures around, at the smoke tumbling around both girls feet, at the red tinted dark room beyond Louise. She shakes her head. "Who are you?"
"Didn't we just cover that? I'm Ki...."
"No." Holding up a hand. "Not the costume. You. I want to know who you are?"
"Oh." Smiling. "Well that's easy." Holding out a hand. "Louise Smith."
"Smith." Nodding, Holly doesn't step forwards to shake hands. "Are you a student here?"
"When I feel like it."
"Ha." Smiling. "Funny girl. Well." A shrug. "I'm afraid it's time to stop this game now." Taking a step forwards. "I'm just going to go ahead and assume Beth and her Mother are in there someplace?"
"Umm." Louise giggles. "Maybe."
"Right." Holly puts her hands on her hips, aiming for an authoritative stance and tone. "Well then, it's time to hand them over. Louise. Then we'll go to my office and discuss your future here at Battle."
"No."
"No?"
"Sorry." Louise lifts an arm, shooting Holly with a tranquilliser dart from the pistol she'd been concealing in her sleeve. "But, you see." Smiling as Holly's eyes begin to loose focus, the fast acting concoction taking effect. "I'm still having too much fun to stop." Louise gives Holly a cheeky wave as the vice principal takes a step towards her, then collapses into a heap, her eyes closed. "And besides," tossing the pistol into room ten, taking one of Holly's ankles in each hand, Louise begins pulling her backwards into the darkness, "you never even said please."
006.
Louise.
"And then the next day you showed up." I tell the principal, shrugging. "And. Well." I giggle. "No offence, sir, but you're just not my type."
He doesn't want to believe me. But, all the photos, all the evidence, how can he not.
He showed up outside room ten just after eight. I didn't see any point in hiding. I knew yesterday, when I kidnapped the vice principal, that my actions were heading towards this inevitable conclusion: Someone in authority turning up, shutting me down. So I opened the door and walked out, and I've spent all day in this office, waiting to be interviewed.
Which means they've had all day to examine my secret room, hidden behind my trick secret door. All day to take as many photos as they need to bury me, to cast me from this place. Maybe he even thinks he'll be able to throw me in jail, I muse, smiling, earning me a scowl. By now all three of my victims will of been set free, and will of no doubt given equally damning statements regarding what I did to them. I wonder how many ways it's possible to write 'she tied me up and forced me to have an orgasm' or 'she tied me up and forced me to give her an orgasm'? I smile again, and point. "Do you think I could see some of those reports?"
"What?" Caught off gaurd, looking from me to the papers in question, then quite deliberately picking them up and moving them further away. "No." Shaking his head. "I don't think so, Louise."
"Okay." I shrug, still acting like this is all no big deal.
"I've called the board of governors."
"Did you really?"
"Yes." Looking put out by my grin. "And I spoke with the chairman." A pause, probably for dramatic effect. "When I explained to him what's been going on he decided to visit Battle, to deal with this matter personally."
"Wow."
"Yes." A nod. "So you can wipe that smile off your face young lady. You." Pointing at me. "Are in a lot of trouble."
"I mean." I shrug. "Maybe."
"I'd be surprised if the chairman didn't insist on this being a matter for the police."
"Hmm."
"He'll be here within the hour."
"Only if you're sure?"
"And just what does that mean."
"Oh." Shaking my head, but smiling. "Nothing. Sorry. Just...."
"Come on Louise," I can see he's finally beginning to lose his temper, which only makes me smile more, "out with it."
"Well. Just." A pause of my own, and a scowl from him. "If you're sure you need the chairman here to deal with me personally?"
"Yes."
"Okay." A shrug. "Have it your way."
After that we sit in relative silence, waiting.
"Where is she?" A booming male voice sounds from the room beyond this office. Will smiles at me, I smile back, making him pause halfway in the act of rising from his chair. I hear the door open behind me, and turn. The chairman is a big man, built like a rugby player grown old, but still retaining all the bulk and muscle that likely scared the crap out of the opposing team several decades ago. His suit is immaculate, I should know, I gave him the tie currently expertly knotted and tucked under his shirt collar last Christmas. "Hello Princess," smiling at me as Will's mouth drops open in surprise, "have you been a naughty girl again?"
"Hello Daddy." Smiling back, holding thumb and finger about an inch apart. "Maybe just a little."
Rufus isn't my real Dad, but I wish he were. No, my real Dad was a wife beating drunk. When I was three Mum, finally discovering the courage to do so, fled from the North of Scotland all the way down to Englands South Coast. There we hid. Mum worked two jobs, I went to school, and together we survived. Together we were happy. She met Rufus at work. A very rich man who still craved a fix of cheap and greasy diner food twice or three times a week. They dated, then married. He lets- with Mums blessing -me call him Dad. He's the best man I know, very tolerant of my, some would say bad, or weird, quirks.
With the actual chairman of the university board, Will's boss, so very clearly in my corner, there's nothing the principal can do. All of his arguments crumble before even leaving his mouth, all his precious evidence becoming worthless. He folds, rolls over and exposes his belly so to speak, all whilst I try not to grin too much. 'You see' I want to tell Will 'I'm the shark here'.
My time here at Battle is done though. Whilst Rufus can easily protect me from any of the punishments Will was lining up to throw at me, allowing me to remain a student here, especially in the same room as Beth, would be pushing my luck. It's fine. In truth I only came here due to room ten anyway, I very rarely attended any of my lectures.
"I just have something to take care of." Stood with Rufus beside his chauffeur driven car. "Okay Princess," giving me a smile as I kiss his cheek, "don't be too long though." Checking his watch. "I need to be in London by last orders tonight."
"I won't."
Hanger three is unlocked, but still deserted. I just wanted to come back one last time, for one last look at my room ten. The workman I'd hired had spent all summer converting the room to my required specifications, including installing the trick fake wall and automatic doors. Plus the cameras up high in the ceiling, and my own personal favourite: the smoke machine. Using the remote dug out of my jeans pocket I open the section of wall now, and the doors behind, then step inside.
The room is bare. Aside from the cells, and certain other things bolted down or too heavy to easily move, all evidence of my fun little game has been removed. So I walk back out again, to stand in the corridor just outside, where, with a mischievous smile I press the button to seal the room back up, then toss my remote in through the closing doors, giggling quietly as the wall slides back into place, knowing that the only way back in now will be to break the wall down, as the vice principal threatened to do.
I stay for a several more minutes, back to the now blank wall, just staring into space, thinking. Trying to decide what I want to do with my life now.
My phone rings, it's Rufus. "Are you ready yet Princess?"
"Sorry Dad," pulling the phone away from my head, grimacing at the time, I hadn't meant to keep him waiting this long, "I'll be there now."
"Good girl." I can hear the smile in his voice, the genuine love for both my Mother, and through that his love and acceptance of me as his daughter. I smile back, though he can't see, and stuff my phone back into the butt pocket of my tight faded blue jeans.
I'm just about to walk away when a rush of cold air against my back, a low chuckle from behind, stops me.
Turning, the smile drops off my face. The doorway is back.
But it isn't mine.
A rough arch has been cut into the walls material, the shape hacked out in such a fashion that the curve isn't regular, the walls not straight. Beyond the arch is darkness, complete and total, I can't see a thing.
The chuckle sounds again, softly, the soud of someone inside the dark room amused at something. I shiver as goosebumps break out across both arms, and swallow, my throat suddenly dry. I very much don't want to be here anymore.
But, as I lift my right leg to begin walking away, out of hanger three, back to the waiting car, leaving Battle behind, there's a powerfully strong rush of wind from the doorway, warm air blasts at my face and body, and I'm grabbed. Some invisible force yanks me off my feet, dragging me forwards at speed into the darkness. Before I can even think to cry out I find myself stopped again, stood surrounded in complete darkness save for a pulsing red light before me, a red light emanating from the sinkhole.
It isn't collapsed, and none of my carefully placed boards remain atop the gap. Instead the sinkhole is as it must've been that day long ago when it opened, swallowing that poor girl whole. I try to move, but for some reason my body won't listen to the frantic panicked signals my brain is sending. Nor can I cry out, the words, a call for help, dry and crumble in my throat. I'm rooted to the spot. Waiting.
Movement, something rising up out of the pit towards me.
She, the Demon that emerges- for what else can it possibly be looking so -is only noticeably female due to her large breasts. She's human in form: two legs, two arms, a head, but in no other way. Blackened skin looks burned, covered in rips, some deep enough to reveal dirty white bone beneath. The hair is black too, curly and ragged, like it's been sawn off. None of it is any lower then her chin. Black tentacles grow from her back. Three of them dissappear back down into the pit, it's these that suspend her in midair, that allowed her to rise up to me, the other half dozen attack me. In no time I'm wrapped up, mummified, arms pinned to my side and legs held together. All whilst my body still refuses to cooperate beyond moving my eyes. Where the tentacles touch my bare flesh they feel slimy, and cold.
I can't even struggle as my cocooned body is hoisted up into the air, bought up to her, the Demon girl who long ago really did fall down and down, all the way to whatever place creates monsters like what she's become. Held before her I'm examined, her all white eyes staring into mine. Her lips part in a smile, a long snake like tongue licks her blackened cracked lips. She nods. "Yes." Hissed out, her voice so much more real then my own imitation. "This one will do for my needs."
Together we sink back down into the sinkhole, into the pit, me and the Demon, apparently real, who's legend I'd stolen as an excuse to kidnap a bunch of girls.
Louise.
"And then the next day you showed up." I tell the principal, shrugging. "And. Well." I giggle. "No offence, sir, but you're just not my type."
He doesn't want to believe me. But, all the photos, all the evidence, how can he not.
He showed up outside room ten just after eight. I didn't see any point in hiding. I knew yesterday, when I kidnapped the vice principal, that my actions were heading towards this inevitable conclusion: Someone in authority turning up, shutting me down. So I opened the door and walked out, and I've spent all day in this office, waiting to be interviewed.
Which means they've had all day to examine my secret room, hidden behind my trick secret door. All day to take as many photos as they need to bury me, to cast me from this place. Maybe he even thinks he'll be able to throw me in jail, I muse, smiling, earning me a scowl. By now all three of my victims will of been set free, and will of no doubt given equally damning statements regarding what I did to them. I wonder how many ways it's possible to write 'she tied me up and forced me to have an orgasm' or 'she tied me up and forced me to give her an orgasm'? I smile again, and point. "Do you think I could see some of those reports?"
"What?" Caught off gaurd, looking from me to the papers in question, then quite deliberately picking them up and moving them further away. "No." Shaking his head. "I don't think so, Louise."
"Okay." I shrug, still acting like this is all no big deal.
"I've called the board of governors."
"Did you really?"
"Yes." Looking put out by my grin. "And I spoke with the chairman." A pause, probably for dramatic effect. "When I explained to him what's been going on he decided to visit Battle, to deal with this matter personally."
"Wow."
"Yes." A nod. "So you can wipe that smile off your face young lady. You." Pointing at me. "Are in a lot of trouble."
"I mean." I shrug. "Maybe."
"I'd be surprised if the chairman didn't insist on this being a matter for the police."
"Hmm."
"He'll be here within the hour."
"Only if you're sure?"
"And just what does that mean."
"Oh." Shaking my head, but smiling. "Nothing. Sorry. Just...."
"Come on Louise," I can see he's finally beginning to lose his temper, which only makes me smile more, "out with it."
"Well. Just." A pause of my own, and a scowl from him. "If you're sure you need the chairman here to deal with me personally?"
"Yes."
"Okay." A shrug. "Have it your way."
After that we sit in relative silence, waiting.
"Where is she?" A booming male voice sounds from the room beyond this office. Will smiles at me, I smile back, making him pause halfway in the act of rising from his chair. I hear the door open behind me, and turn. The chairman is a big man, built like a rugby player grown old, but still retaining all the bulk and muscle that likely scared the crap out of the opposing team several decades ago. His suit is immaculate, I should know, I gave him the tie currently expertly knotted and tucked under his shirt collar last Christmas. "Hello Princess," smiling at me as Will's mouth drops open in surprise, "have you been a naughty girl again?"
"Hello Daddy." Smiling back, holding thumb and finger about an inch apart. "Maybe just a little."
Rufus isn't my real Dad, but I wish he were. No, my real Dad was a wife beating drunk. When I was three Mum, finally discovering the courage to do so, fled from the North of Scotland all the way down to Englands South Coast. There we hid. Mum worked two jobs, I went to school, and together we survived. Together we were happy. She met Rufus at work. A very rich man who still craved a fix of cheap and greasy diner food twice or three times a week. They dated, then married. He lets- with Mums blessing -me call him Dad. He's the best man I know, very tolerant of my, some would say bad, or weird, quirks.
With the actual chairman of the university board, Will's boss, so very clearly in my corner, there's nothing the principal can do. All of his arguments crumble before even leaving his mouth, all his precious evidence becoming worthless. He folds, rolls over and exposes his belly so to speak, all whilst I try not to grin too much. 'You see' I want to tell Will 'I'm the shark here'.
My time here at Battle is done though. Whilst Rufus can easily protect me from any of the punishments Will was lining up to throw at me, allowing me to remain a student here, especially in the same room as Beth, would be pushing my luck. It's fine. In truth I only came here due to room ten anyway, I very rarely attended any of my lectures.
"I just have something to take care of." Stood with Rufus beside his chauffeur driven car. "Okay Princess," giving me a smile as I kiss his cheek, "don't be too long though." Checking his watch. "I need to be in London by last orders tonight."
"I won't."
Hanger three is unlocked, but still deserted. I just wanted to come back one last time, for one last look at my room ten. The workman I'd hired had spent all summer converting the room to my required specifications, including installing the trick fake wall and automatic doors. Plus the cameras up high in the ceiling, and my own personal favourite: the smoke machine. Using the remote dug out of my jeans pocket I open the section of wall now, and the doors behind, then step inside.
The room is bare. Aside from the cells, and certain other things bolted down or too heavy to easily move, all evidence of my fun little game has been removed. So I walk back out again, to stand in the corridor just outside, where, with a mischievous smile I press the button to seal the room back up, then toss my remote in through the closing doors, giggling quietly as the wall slides back into place, knowing that the only way back in now will be to break the wall down, as the vice principal threatened to do.
I stay for a several more minutes, back to the now blank wall, just staring into space, thinking. Trying to decide what I want to do with my life now.
My phone rings, it's Rufus. "Are you ready yet Princess?"
"Sorry Dad," pulling the phone away from my head, grimacing at the time, I hadn't meant to keep him waiting this long, "I'll be there now."
"Good girl." I can hear the smile in his voice, the genuine love for both my Mother, and through that his love and acceptance of me as his daughter. I smile back, though he can't see, and stuff my phone back into the butt pocket of my tight faded blue jeans.
I'm just about to walk away when a rush of cold air against my back, a low chuckle from behind, stops me.
Turning, the smile drops off my face. The doorway is back.
But it isn't mine.
A rough arch has been cut into the walls material, the shape hacked out in such a fashion that the curve isn't regular, the walls not straight. Beyond the arch is darkness, complete and total, I can't see a thing.
The chuckle sounds again, softly, the soud of someone inside the dark room amused at something. I shiver as goosebumps break out across both arms, and swallow, my throat suddenly dry. I very much don't want to be here anymore.
But, as I lift my right leg to begin walking away, out of hanger three, back to the waiting car, leaving Battle behind, there's a powerfully strong rush of wind from the doorway, warm air blasts at my face and body, and I'm grabbed. Some invisible force yanks me off my feet, dragging me forwards at speed into the darkness. Before I can even think to cry out I find myself stopped again, stood surrounded in complete darkness save for a pulsing red light before me, a red light emanating from the sinkhole.
It isn't collapsed, and none of my carefully placed boards remain atop the gap. Instead the sinkhole is as it must've been that day long ago when it opened, swallowing that poor girl whole. I try to move, but for some reason my body won't listen to the frantic panicked signals my brain is sending. Nor can I cry out, the words, a call for help, dry and crumble in my throat. I'm rooted to the spot. Waiting.
Movement, something rising up out of the pit towards me.
She, the Demon that emerges- for what else can it possibly be looking so -is only noticeably female due to her large breasts. She's human in form: two legs, two arms, a head, but in no other way. Blackened skin looks burned, covered in rips, some deep enough to reveal dirty white bone beneath. The hair is black too, curly and ragged, like it's been sawn off. None of it is any lower then her chin. Black tentacles grow from her back. Three of them dissappear back down into the pit, it's these that suspend her in midair, that allowed her to rise up to me, the other half dozen attack me. In no time I'm wrapped up, mummified, arms pinned to my side and legs held together. All whilst my body still refuses to cooperate beyond moving my eyes. Where the tentacles touch my bare flesh they feel slimy, and cold.
I can't even struggle as my cocooned body is hoisted up into the air, bought up to her, the Demon girl who long ago really did fall down and down, all the way to whatever place creates monsters like what she's become. Held before her I'm examined, her all white eyes staring into mine. Her lips part in a smile, a long snake like tongue licks her blackened cracked lips. She nods. "Yes." Hissed out, her voice so much more real then my own imitation. "This one will do for my needs."
Together we sink back down into the sinkhole, into the pit, me and the Demon, apparently real, who's legend I'd stolen as an excuse to kidnap a bunch of girls.
Morning all
Had the final two parts written, so decided to post both simultaneously.
Not a long story. Could've been stretched out but I felt too many room ten attacks would've become repetitive.
Had the final two parts written, so decided to post both simultaneously.
Not a long story. Could've been stretched out but I felt too many room ten attacks would've become repetitive.
Oh, so not supernatural after all... Oh. Right.
Thank you once again for a very enjoyable story. While I would have liked it to be longer, I can completely understand why you decided to conclude it at this point - and what a conclusion it was. Bravo.
Looking forward to whatever you decide to come up with next.
Thank you once again for a very enjoyable story. While I would have liked it to be longer, I can completely understand why you decided to conclude it at this point - and what a conclusion it was. Bravo.
Looking forward to whatever you decide to come up with next.