She is a Nightmare

Part 2: Tension Beneath the Surface

Freen stood in the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. The coolness helped her relax, even if just for a moment. She looked at herself in the mirror, trying to calm the nerves that had been building up all evening. Just as she was about to dry her face, she heard a soft knock on the door.

"Freen?" Becky's voice came from the other side, soft and hesitant. "I brought you some clothes."

Freen opened the door slightly, seeing Becky standing there with a bundle of clothes in her hands. Instead of taking the clothes, Freen quickly pulled Becky inside the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Becky's breath caught as Freen pressed her against the cool wall, their bodies close. The clothes slipped from Becky's hands as Freen leaned in, her face just inches from Becky's. The air between them was thick with tension, and Becky's heart raced. She closed her eyes, expecting Freen to kiss her.

But instead of a kiss, Freen's hand, which had been resting on Becky's shoulder, began to slide down. Her fingers moved slowly over Becky's chest, down her stomach, and then to the edge of her skirt. Becky's breath hitched as Freen's hand slipped under her skirt and touched the edge of her underwear.

"So, battery's down?" Freen whispered playfully, her fingers brushing lightly against Becky's skin. Before Becky could react, they heard footsteps approaching the bathroom. Freen quickly pulled back, stepping away as if nothing had happened.

"We should head back out," Freen said, her voice calm. Becky, still catching her breath, nodded and picked up the clothes from the floor, her hands trembling slightly. She handed them to Freen without looking her in the eye.

As they stepped out of the bathroom, Mrs. Adams appeared in the hallway, her expression stiff but neutral. "Dinner's over," she said simply before walking away.

Back in the living room, Richie was trying to keep the mood light. "You should stay the night," he suggested with a friendly smile. "It's too late to drive back now."

Becky was about to decline, wanting to leave and escape the tension, but her parents spoke up.

"Yes, stay," Mrs. Adams said firmly. "It's too late to drive home."

Freen immediately agreed, sensing Becky's hesitation. "We'd love to stay," she said, giving Becky a reassuring look. Becky nodded, though she still felt uneasy.

Mr. Adams, who had been quiet most of the evening, suddenly spoke up. His words were sharp. "Of course, Freen would want to stay," he said with a hint of disdain. "Always looking for a place to settle in."

The insult hung in the air, and Freen's expression tightened slightly, though she kept her composure. Sensing the awkwardness, Richie quickly stepped in.

"Come on, I'll show you to Becky's old room," he said, trying to ease the tension. He led them upstairs to Becky's childhood room, where the walls were still painted pink, and the shelves were filled with stuffed animals. The room looked almost frozen in time, a stark contrast to the woman Becky had become.

As soon as they were inside, Freen quietly shut the door, locking it without Becky noticing. Before Becky could say anything, Freen grabbed her by the waist and tossed her onto the bed, surprising Becky with the sudden move.

Freen's eyes sparkled with mischief as she climbed onto the bed, hovering over Becky. Becky's heart raced, but she couldn't deny. Freen slowly slid Becky's sweater off her shoulders, then began to unbutton her top. With each button that came undone, Becky's breath grew heavier.

Freen's fingers moved with practiced precision, finally parting Becky's blouse to reveal her bare skin. But what lay beneath was more than just flesh—Becky's chest was wrapped tightly in ropes, binding her breasts in a way that accentuated their shape. Freen's eyes widened, not with surprise, but with satisfaction. This was her handiwork, after all. She had tied those ropes herself, a reminder of the control she held over Becky. Leaning in close, Freen let her lips brush against Becky's ear, her voice a low whisper. "You're Such a whore"

Becky shivered, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions—fear, anticipation. Her breath hitched as the familiar feeling of submission washed over her. But just then, without acknowledging Becky's vulnerable position, she casually walked over to the chair near the balcony.

Freen slid the glass door open slightly, letting the cool night air fill the room. She pulled a cigarette and lighter from her pocket, lighting up as she leaned back in the chair. The sky was clear, the stars scattered across the vast darkness, but Freen's gaze was distant, focused on something far beyond them. She took a slow drag, the ember at the end of her cigarette glowing brightly in the dim light. As she exhaled, the smoke curled upward into the night air.

"Now take off that skirt and underwear," Freen commanded, her voice rough and detached. She didn't even turn around to look at Becky, who was still lying on the bed, her heart pounding in her chest.

Becky's eyes were wide, pleading silently with Freen for some semblance of mercy. "Doo oo rrr issn tt c ll oosed?" she stammered, her voice shaky, barely able to form the words. She was terrified at the thought of being so exposed, especially with the door unlocked.

But Freen ignored her, her focus still on the starry sky. "Take it off. Now," she repeated, this time louder, her tone brooking no argument.

Becky hesitated for a moment, but she knew better than to disobey. Slowly, she slid off her skirt and then her underwear, feeling a deep sense of vulnerability as she did so. The cool air brushed against her bare skin, making her shiver. She knew what Freen expected of her next.

"Come here," Freen ordered, still not bothering to look back. Becky swallowed hard, her legs trembling as she stood up and walked towards Freen, her entire body exposed.

As she approached, Freen finally turned her gaze to Becky, but only briefly. What she was really looking at was the thin rope that wrapped around Becky's thighs, just below her hips. The rope was connected to a small, concealed remote, its wire disappearing between Becky's legs. Freen smirked slightly, the sight of her handiwork bringing a twisted sense of pride.

"Take it out," Freen instructed, her voice calm but commanding. "And sit on the floor."

Becky's hands shook as she reached for the remote, carefully pulling it out from where it had been hidden. The movement made her wince slightly, but she did as she was told, lowering herself to the floor at Freen's feet. She sat there, her head bowed, the coldness of the floor adding to the chill that had settled deep within her.

Freen took another drag from her cigarette, finally turning her attention fully to Becky. The power dynamic was unmistakable; Becky was completely at her mercy. Freen exhaled slowly, watching the smoke drift above Becky's head before dissipating into the night.