Enslaved in Hollywood, Part Two
The basement dungeon had taken a lot of work to install. Jeri had to be careful about it -- telling a contractor she wanted her basement converted into a dungeon to hold whatever pretty girl was serving as her captured slave might have been an awkward conversation, though Jeri had often thought seeing the look on the contractor's face might have been worth it.
Instead the work had been broken up, done by many different workers, and Jeri had put on the finishing touches herself. The basement was now quite inescapable and filled with all sorts of naughty things to train and punish those girls she chose to enslave. Freya wouldn't be going anywhere until such time as Jeri decided to be rid of her, and in the meantime...
Jeri smiled in anticipation as she finished her glass of wine. On the kitchen table, her iPad displayed the feed from the security cameras in the dungeon. The basement was wired both for sound and video, partly as a safety measure, partly because it meant Jeri could check in on her slave wherever she was.
Freya had woken a few minutes ago. And she was screaming.
Jeri had always loved this part. The girls she enslaved had all come to Hollywood with dreams of stardom, and now they were waking up to find herself a naked, chained prisoner. By intention the dungeon was dark and cold, all to make the girl as vulnerable as possible. Everything had been designed to maximise a girl's terror. Jeri had waited for Freya to awaken, knowing her terror and screams would be delicious. She had not been disappointed. Even through her gag, Freya's screams were impressively loud.
Jeri zoomed the iPad's screen in closer to take in the details of Freya's lithe body. The naked girl was positioned on her side, almost bent double in a severe hogtie that bound her ankles to her wrists. Jeri had always loved seeing a girl tied this way. It emphasised both her helplessness and the curves of her body.
The simple handcuffs she had used to bind Freya initially had been removed, replaced with thicker steel manacles at both wrists and ankles and a matching collar at the throat. The insides of the manacles were lined with leather to make them more comfortable for the wearer, which was good because Freya would be wearing them for sometime to come. They were locked solid and could only be opened with a key, a key Jeri kept in a very safe place. Much better. Freya wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
The sheer amount of restraint the girl was under was overkill -- even if the prisoner somehow got out of her chains there was no way for her to get out of her cell or out of the basement dungeon itself -- but Jeri liked it that way. It was important a new slave be made to feel incredibly helpless as fast as possible. That and the pain of the stressful position Freya was obliged to hold would make breaking and training her that much easier. At this point it was all about breaking down resistance. Freya didn't know it yet, but she was in for a very painful night.
Draining the last of her wine, Jeri closed the iPad and stood. She always liked to savour this moment. Now she was going to have a bath and some dinner, giving Freya a good few hours in the darkness of her cell to contemplate her situation.
Judging from the screams, Jeri decided she was well on the way.
#
It was the cold that first woke Freya, along with the pain in her limbs. The fuzziness in her brain vanished in an instant, replaced with complete terror, as she realised her current predicament was no mere nightmare. This was real.
She was naked.
She was chained up.
She was gagged.
And she was lying on her side in a cold, dark cell.
Freya screamed. The sound was muffled by the huge rubbed ball wedged behind her teeth but in the silent darkness it seemed unbelievably loud. She tried to get up and found she couldn't. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, connected to her ankles which were wedged up behind her in a tight, inescapable hogtie. There also seemed to be a second set of cuffs around her upper arms, above the elbows, connecting her arms painfully together in a single, useless column behind her back whilst simultaneously forcing her shoulders back and her breasts out into greater prominence.
