It was night. Out in the countryside, there were no houses or buildings within sight. Without any artificial light, one could see thousands upon thousands of stars shining in the night sky. They were the only light available at the moment. The moon was dark.

A solitary figure stumbled through the underbrush. He paused for a moment, listening. Straining his ears, the man could just make out the faint wailing of sirens but fortunately, he didn’t hear the more alarming sounds of men chasing after him, bloodhounds baying as they followed his scent. He sighed in relief. With any luck, the guards at the prison were still busy trying to quell the riot that had broken out just over an hour ago. In the chaos, it would take them a long time to notice one of the prisoners had escaped.

He peered up, through a gap in the trees, at the stars. Though he would have preferred an overcast night to make his escape, without the stars, he would have been totally lost. It took him only a moment to locate the North Star and get his bearings. Satisfied he was still on course, he continued his trek.

Half an hour later, the man stumbled out of the woods and came upon a highway, running through the forest. Sticking close to the trees, ready to duck out of sight if a car came by, he followed the highway northward, checking the signs. A mile uproad, he found what he was looking for: a speed limit sign someone had scratched a small ‘X’ onto the bottom right corner of it, just like they had said when planning this breakout.

The man returned to the cover of the forest and waited. Twenty minutes later, a small, non-descript car drove up. It slowed to a halt. The driver opened his window and casually lit a cigarette. Cautiously, the escapee left the woods and walked to the car. As he stepped into the beams of the car’s headlights, the driver got a good look at him. The escapee was short and rather pudgy, though a year in prison had taken some of the pounds off him. He had not a hair on his head. No wonder they called him babyface. He had on an orange jumpsuit with a number stenciled on it. The convict got in the back seat, behind the driver. As soon as he’d closed the door, the driver put the car in gear and started driving.

When they’d driven a mile, the driver spoke up. “There’s a set of clothes in the seat beside you. Wallet's got some cash and a clean ID.” He listened as the other man quickly changed out of the conspicuous jumpsuit and into the jeans and t-shirt. The sound of his passenger racking the action told the him the convict had found the pistol with the clothes. “In case you need it. I’ll drop you off near the bus station. The bosses think you’re on the level with this whole treasure deal. That’s why they helped bust you out. You’ve got two weeks to get your hands on it. If you can’t or if we think you’re planning on cheating us at any point you’re on a one way trip to a shallow grave. Got it?”

“Got it.” The convict replied.

“So, between the two of us, do you know where the treasure ended up...after they nabbed your ass the first time?”

“No, but I know someone who does…”

***

“What a day…” Velma muttered quietly to herself as she walked into the bathroom. “I think a nice warm shower is the perfect way to relax.” She was by herself. Daphne was out visiting her relatives, while Fred, Shaggy and Scooby were off on a ‘guys-camping trip’ for the weekend.

The young woman closed and locked the door. Reaching behind the shower curtain, she turned the knobs. Water gurgled through the pipes for a second before it finally sprayed from the shower head. While waiting for the water to heat up, Velma started to undress. She reached down and pulled her trademark orange sweater up, over her head, followed by the plain blouse she had on under it. She unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the ground, then pulled off her orange socks.

Velma paused a moment, to look over herself in the mirror, wearing only her underwear. Though she wasn’t as pretty as her best friend Daphne, Velma still thought she had a great body, with a large bust and curves in all the right places. So what if she didn’t want to show it off all the time?

The steam filling the bathroom told Velma her shower was ready, so she finished undressing. Her panties and bra joined the pile of other clothes on the floor. She set her glasses beside the sink and stepped into the shower. The young woman sighed, as the warm water ran over her smooth, naked skin, slowly easing out the tension of the day. This was exactly what she needed!

Lost in the feeling of the warm water, Velma didn’t hear the sound of glass breaking on the other side of the house. She didn’t notice the quiet footsteps coming closer and closer to the bathroom or the sound of someone fiddling with the lock. A hand reached around the shower curtain, behind Velma, a pad of cloth held in its chubby fingers…

“Wha-MMMPPPHHH!!!” Velma’s eyes went wide with shock as the pad was suddenly clamped over her face. Her hands went up to the thick arm holding it there, but she had no luck trying to pull it away. An odd scent filled her nostrils. “Chloroform!” Velma realized, recognizing the smell of the chemical from her chemistry classes. She had just enough time to wonder who was trying to kidnap her before the anesthetic took hold and slumped over, unconscious…

***

“mmm…” Velma moaned as she started coming to again. She couldn’t see anything. There was a foul taste in her mouth and her head was pounding. The young woman’s arms and legs ached. After a moment, she realized that was because someone had tied her up. Her hands and feet had been crossed and bound and then lashed together, pulling her into a tight hogtie. A strip of none-too-clean cloth had been knotted in the center. The knot was stuffed between her teeth and the free ends tied together around behind her head. For once, her lack of vision wasn’t due to her missing glasses, but instead from the thick cloth blindfold she had on.

“Mmmppphhh!” Velma groaned, squirming around. From what she could feel, she was stuffed in the trunk of a moving car. From the bumps and lack of turning, she assumed they were driving down a major interstate. The rough carpet of the trunk scratched uncomfortably against Velma’s bare skin as she struggled feebly in the confines of her prison. Velma’s cheeked flushed red with embarrassment. She’d been naked in the shower when her kidnapper jumped her with his chloroform and obviously he hadn’t bothered putting any clothes on her while she was out. The young woman was still completely naked...other than her bonds of course.

“ugh...isn’t this supposed to happen to Daphne?” Velma thought with a wry grin. Then she started worrying. Who had kidnapped her? And why? At that moment, the car must have turned off the main highway onto a narrow country road. Velma was suddenly thrown around like a pea rattling in its pod as the car bounced down the rough dirt track. For a few minutes, any coherent thought was impossible. Then, all of a sudden, they came to a halt. Velma heard the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and footsteps, muffled through the trunk lid as the driver walked around to the back of the car. She shivered in fright. She was about to find out…

The trunk lid opened and Velma shivered as a gust of cold wind blew over her naked, sweaty body. The inside of the trunk had been hot and stuffy for most of the ride up. The young woman squirmed as she felt hands on her, picking her up out of the trunk. Her unseen abductor carried his struggling captive a short distance, over a gravel road, from the sound of his footsteps, onto a wooden porch and through a door.

Inside the house, the rope running from Velma’s tightly bound wrists to her equally stringently tied feet was cut. She groaned in relief as she straightened out for the first time in what had to he hours. The captive woman was carried across the room and set down in a hard wooden chair, her arms draped over the chair back. Velma felt cord rubbing against her skin as a long coil of rope was looped around her chest and arms. A soft grunt escaped her gag as it was looped around and around again, each circle pulled tight, pressing her against the chair. It was only when she and the chair were as one that her captor reached behind her back and untied her blindfold.

Velma blinked in the sudden brightness. She squinted, looking around. As usual, without her glasses, she couldn’t see anything more than blurs. Though he hadn’t bothered with any of her clothes, Velma’s abductor had thought to grab her glasses. Everything came into focus as he slid them over her face. She saw the interior of a run down cabin, windows boarded up, leaves scattered on the floor, a few pieces of furniture here and there...

But what immediately grabbed her attention was her captor: he was short and bald. Though he’d lost some weight since she’d seen him last, Velma had no trouble recognizing the man who had kidnapped her: Babyface Boretti! She whimpered into her gag in fear. It had been almost a year since she and the rest of the gang had put him in jail for his part in the fake hauntings as Camp Little Moose. Boretti and his partner had been searching for treasure, hidden in the lake years before by a mobster Boretti had met in jail.

“Glad to see you recognize me, Miss Dinkley.” Boretti said, sneering at his captive. “Unfortunately, this isn’t a social call. I still want that treasure and I think you know what happened to it.”

Velma shook her head, fearfully. They’d handed the stash of stolen money and jewelry over to the authorities. She had no clue what had happened to it after that. “Mmmpphhh!!! mmmppphhh!!!” Velma grunted anxiously through her gag.

“You can go ahead and tell me what I want to know right now or you can keep quiet.” Boretti said, leaning over his captive. “You’ll tell me eventually and either way, I’ll have my fun with you…

***

“uurrgghhh…” Velma groaned through her gag miserably. Her entire body ached from the strain of the position she was in. The young woman stood in the center of the main room of the run-down cabin. Velma’s hands had been tied behind her back, palm to palm. Her elbows had then been pinched together, painfully, and tied as well. A harness of rope was tied around Velma’s chest, running around her shoulders and arms and circling her breasts in tight coils of the rough, scratchy rope.

The young woman’s legs were stringently bound at the ankles and knees with the same rope. A length of rope was tied around her naked waist, like a belt. Two strands of rope ran from the front of the belt, between her legs and were tied off at the back. Velma’s captor had tied half a dozen knots spaced along the rope, right where it lay against her sex. The crotch rope had been pulled so tight against her crotch the knots disappeared between the lips of her sex and reappeared between the cheeks of her ass on the other side. Like the ropes crushing her chest, it had no purpose other than to hurt the captive girl.

Finally, a long strand of rope had been tied to the bindings on Velma’s wrists. The other end was passed over one of the sturdy beams supporting the roof of the cabin. Boretti had hauled on the rope until Velma’s arms were pulled up into a painful strappedo and she thought they might be yanked out of their sockets. He’d tied the other end off, to a set of heavy steel weights, to ensure Velma wasn’t going anywhere. For the last hour, she’d been tottering on her tiptoes, trying as best she could to take some of the strain off her tightly bound arms. Her naked body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat from her exertions. The tight band of her gag was wet with drool.

This wasn’t the first torture Velma had suffered through since her abduction, however many hours ago that had been. Velma had lost track, lost in her misery. Through the boarded up windows, she could see it was night out now. She only know, this wouldn’t be the last she’d suffer before this nightmare was over.

“How are you feeling?” Boretti said, as he entered the room. The man walked up behind his helpless captive. “Ready to talk?” He teased, tugging sharply on the crotch rope, eliciting a miserable groan from the helpless girl. “No?”

Velma whimpered through her gag. No matter how many times she tried to tell Boretti she didn’t know anything about where the treasure had ended up, he didn’t believe her. At this point, she was almost sure he didn’t care. He just wanted to hurt the woman who had helped foil his plans and put him in jail…

“I think you’re getting used to this position. Time to move onto something new, don’t you think?” Boretti told Velma. “Maybe I’ll hang you upside down by your ankles and take a switch to those lovely breasts and nice round ass of yours…”

Neither of the two, captor or captive, noticed as the door to the cabin slowly opened. A figure slipped into the room, creeping up behind the two…”

“...Or maybe I’ll stake you out, spread-eagle on the ground outside, pour a bucket of water on you and let you shiver till morn-urk!!!” Berrit gave a loud groan as something smacked him on the back of the head. Velma grunted into her gag, in shock and relief as he suddenly went limp and fell forward, knocked cold.

“That’s that for old babyface…” The newcomer said, stepping around, in front of Velma. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”

Velma’s eyed widened as she recognized the man. Ranger Knudsen! He was Boretti’s partner at the camp. Velma thought he might have had a crush on her, before she found out he was the one playing the ghost to scare everyone away while his partner searched for the treasure.

“I escaped in the confusion, the same night Boretti did. Unfortunately, he got to you ahead of me.” Knudsen said. Velma’s relief at seeing Boretti knocked out began to fade as she realized Knudsen wasn’t exactly in a hurry to untie her. Instead, he crouched down and began going through Boretti’s pockets. “It took me a while to figure out where he took you. I was so worried…”

Knudson stood up. As he turned around, Velma saw he was holding a glass bottle. The man poured a small amount of colorless liquid onto a rag. “For a while, I thought he might spoil my prize before I could claim you…” Velma grunted into her gag as he pressed the cloth over her gagged mouth and nose. A familiar scent filled her lungs. She squirmed in her bonds as the chloroform took hold. Within moments she was unconscious again...  

***

It was evening when Velma awoke. As the young woman’s eyes fluttered open, she could see fading sunlight, tinged red through a small, barred window, lighting up the small, bar room she was in. The walls were bare whitewash, unbroken save for the window and opposite it, a plain door. The only furniture in the room was a small, metal framed bed with a bare mattress on it. Velma was lying on the bed.

She had been untied, though she was still completely naked. Velma could feel a pressure around her neck. Reaching up, the young woman discovered a metal collar locked tight around her throat. A short metal chain ran from her collar to a ring bolted to the wall beside the bed.

Velma sighed. “Still a prisoner.” She thought, mournfully. But would Knudson be a kinder captor then Boretti? Wasn’t he also after the missing treasure? Did he think she knew how to get it? Would he torture her to find that out as well?

Just then, Velma heard the sound of a key rattling in the metal lock. A second later, the door opened and Knudson entered. “Good.” He said, stepping through the door. He was carrying a small paper sack. “You’re awake. You must have been quite tired from your ordeal. You slept during the entire trip out here.” Velma sat up, but the chain at her neck kept her from going any further.

He grinned. “Well, actually, I slipped you some sleeping pills while you were still unconscious. Didn’t want you waking up and causing a fuss while we were driving…In case you’re wondering, I left Boretti tied up back in the cabin.” Knudson told Velma. “Just a few minutes ago, I called the police and left an anonymous tip, leading them to the cabin. If he’s lucky, he’ll have fled before the got there, otherwise he’ll be in a lot of trouble.”

He shook his head. “Of course, he’ll still have to worry about the people who sprung him from jail. I don’t know much about what he promised them, but I know they’re not the kind of people who like it when you screw up. I managed to escape during the same prison riot they had planned to cover Boretti’s escape.” he shrugged. “Either way, we don’t have to worry about him anymore or the police...”

“What do you mean?” Velma asked, fearfully. “If you’re after the treasure, I don’t know where it’s buried.”

Knudson laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t care about the treasure. Not anymore. It’s long gone, I know that. What I want is you, and now I’ve got you all to myself.” He leered down at Velma. “I left enough evidence back at Boretti’s hideout. The police will think he killed you in revenge for putting him in jail...that your body is buried deep in the woods somewhere. Eventually they’ll give up the search and in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy having you around.”

Velma looked at her captor in horror. She’d thought being kidnapped by Boreti was bad, but her situation was now, if anything much worse.

“Enough talking for now.” Knudson said, reaching into the sack. “What do you say we get you cleaned up and then see to dinner.” His calm, friendly tone was completely at odds with the circumstances. The older man reached into the sack and pulled out two pairs of padded cuffs and a ballgag. “If you’d be so kind as to put these on, then I can unchain you from the bed.” He tossed them onto the mattress beside her.

Velma gave a soft groan. She didn’t really see any way out of this. She grabbed one of the pairs of handcuffs and leaned over, slipped the first cuff around her right ankle, then the other around the left one, ratcheting them snug against her skin. Picking up the ballgag, Velma opened her mouth, as wide as she could. Even so, she struggled to slip the rubber ball past her teeth. With a garbled groan, she too the two straps and joined them behind her head, securing the gag on. Lastly, she slid the second pair of handcuffs around one wrist. With a sigh, she closed the other cuff around her other wrist behind her back. With a ‘click’ it locked shut. She was now helpless.

Knudson stepped forward. From one of his pockets, he pulled out a small ring of keys. He inserted one into the lock of Velma collar. It popped open. “I’ve got a different one for you.” He told her, reaching into the sack again. The new collar was made of a band of thick black nylon cloth two inches wide, with a plastic buckle at one end. There was a large plastic box attached to the collar. As he pulled the collar around the young woman’s beck, it settled on one side. Velma whimpered into her gag as he tightened the collar. She could feel two metal prongs sticking through the collar, where the box was, poking into her skin.

“As you might have guessed, this is a shock collar.” Knudson told her. He slipped a small padlock through the collar’s buckle, locking it on. “I’ve got the remote right here. If you don’t want to be punished, I’d suggest you learn to obey quickly.” He showed her the remote. There was a dial on it; above the dial was a large red button. Velma’s eyes widened in fear as he thumbed the button. An instant later, a sharp jolt of electricity shot through Velma’s body from the collar. She bit down on the ballgag, crying out in sudden pain.

“That was just level one.” Knudson said, grinning at the sobbing young woman. “It can go all the way up to ten. Now...” he said, pocketing the remote. “...let’s get you cleaned up.” Pulling Velma to her feet, Knudson pulled out a short chain leash and clipped it to her collar. Turning, he tugged on the leash. Velma shuffled after him, stumbling in her ankle chains slightly as she did.

They left the cell, stepping into a short hallway. The rest of the house was as sparsely furnished as Velma’s cell. Evidently, Knudson hadn’t been here long. At the far end of the hallway was a small bathroom with a tub. Knudson lifted her into the tub. Picking up a sprayer, Knudson quickly sprayed Velma from head to toe. The young woman squealed into her gag as she was soaked in the cold water. He grabbed a bottle of body wash and poured a small amount into his hands. Working slowly, he began to rub the soap all over her body. Velma whimpered into her gag as he squeezed and groped her naked breasts. Slowly his hands worked their way down towards her waist…

Five minutes later, feeling clean and very embarrassed, Velma was lifted out of the tub and thoroughly toweled off. Grabbing her leash again, Knudson led his captive out of the bathroom and back down the hall. Turning to another door, they stepped into a sparse kitchen. Most of the space was taken up by a large, heavy wooden table in the center of the room. Velma was forced to kneel beside the table, her leash wrapped around one leg, while Knudson stepped in front of the stove top and busied himself fixing some food. Velma’s stomach rumbled, as she smelled the cooking beans and bacon wafting over towards her. She hadn’t had anything to eat since before her kidnapping. Now she was starving…

After a few minutes, Knudson carried a plate of food over to the table and sat down, beside Velma. He grinned, looking down at her. “If you want to eat anything, you’re going to have to use that pretty mouth of yours for something else first.” He reached down and pulled the ballgag out of Velma’s mouth, leaving it dangling around her neck. His intentions became horribly clear as he unzipped his pants, revealing his large dick.

“No...please, I can’t…” Velma stammered. She fell silent as Knudson pulled out the remote for her shock collar, reminding the captive girl she didn’t have a choice in it. Face turning crimson with shame, Velma crawled forward, on her knees, until she was kneeling under the table, between Knudson’s legs. With a soft whimper, she leaned forward and took his member in her mouth. Slowly, she started to work it uncertainly, with her lips and tongue, but from the soft grunts from Knudson as he ate, her efforts were not unsuccessful. It didn’t take long before he stiffened and shot his load in her mouth.

“That was alright...slave.” Knudson told Velma as she cringed, ashamed at what she’d just been forced to do. “But I’m sure you’ll improve. You’ll certainly get enough practice!” He said with a laugh. When he’d finished his meal, Knudson scraped the leftovers  into a small, metal bowl. He set it on the ground underneath the table, beside a second bowl filled with water. Hungry as she was, Velma didn’t hesitate to eat it.

When she was finished, Knudson untied her from the table and led her to a larger room. This room had a small, battered couch, facing a table, on which he’d set a laptop. There was a small, wooden box sitting beside the couch. He opened it up, revealing a tangled pile of rope, rolls and rolls of duct tape, gags, blindfolds, and other things Velma didn’t even recognize.

Turning back to her, Knudson took out the keyring again and removed the cuffs on Velma’s hands and feet. The young woman stood, uncomfortably, as he grabbed several coils of rope and untangled them, laying them out on the couch. The point had been driven home that, even freed of the shackles, she was still Knudson’s helpless captive. The shock collar ensured she couldn’t even about doing anything but what he told her to.

As Knudson ordered her, Velma slowly turned around and placed her hands behind her back, palm to palm. She felt him grab her wrists and slip a loop of rope around them. The young woman gave a quiet grunt of discomfort as he pulled the rope tight, the rough cord digging into her bare skin. In no time at all, he had tightly bound her hands together. She moaned. Knudson had definitely been paying attention in knot tying class back at the summer camp!

Next, Velma’s arms were tied together at the elbow. She groaned as he forced her arms within a few inches of each other, tying them securely in place. Her legs were then lashed together, at the ankles and knees. She was picked up and set down on the couch. Knudson bent over and reached into the crate of bondage supplies again. When he straightened up again, Velma saw he has a roll of tape and a small bullet vibrator in his hands.

“Something to keep you entertained.” He said, playfully. Velma squirmed, but she couldn’t stop him from placing the small plastic bullet against her mound, smoothing several pieces of tape over it to keep it in place. She gave a muffled squeal as he flipped it on. The vibrator buzzed into life, stimulating her sex. The last pieces of Velma’s bondage were a pair of earplugs and a padded blindfold. As he pulled the blindfold over her eyes, Velma was plunged into darkness. She couldn’t see or hear anything. The only thing she could feel was the tight embrace of the ropes over her body, along with the steady, unrelenting buzzing of the vibrator.

Knudson busied himself with the laptop for a moment, Velma assumed. A second later, he sat down on the couch and pulled his captive over so she was lying on her back in his lap. She guessed he was watching a movie. From time to time, he would casually reach down and begin playing with her bare breasts, squeezing them and toying with her small, pink nipples, abandoning his game when the movie got interesting again.

For Velma, most of her attention was down by her crotch. After a few minutes, the vibrator shut off, only to switch back on a minute later. For the entire evening, Velma was toyed with by the vibrator, pushing her to the edge of climax, then shutting off, before she could achieve it. Velma didn’t know whether or not to be grateful, she couldn’t imagine the shame of being brought to orgasm like this by her captor. It was still maddening, though, always coming so close, only to be denied.

Finally, Knudson decided to call it a night. He pulled out the earplugs then reached down and switched off the vibrator. Velma gave a muffled groan of relief, which turned into a squeal of indignation as he ran his fingers over the lips of her sex. “Did you enjoy it?” He teased. Velma’s face flushed red. By now, they were quite moist. She yelped as he peeled back the tape. As it pulled off, it took some of her pubic hair with it. “Sorry. Maybe tomorrow I should shave that off.” Knudson said, picking Velma up in his arms. “But I kind of like the look of it.” He shrugged. “Oh well, I’ve plenty of time to decide…”

Velma felt him carry her out of the room. When he set her down, it was on a bed. Knudson rolled her over onto her belly so he could untie her arms. She gasped in relief as the strain on her elbows was released. Almost immediately, her hands were tied together again, in front of her this time. Her arms were raised up and tied off to the top of the bed. Knudson crawled down and tied her legs off to the opposite end, stretching her out over it.

“Good night, my lovely plaything.” Knudson said, climbing into the bed beside her. Velma whimpered as his body pressed up against hers. “We’ll have even more fun tomorrow...and for the rest of your life…”