Trapped!

Alone on the Moors

A Mistress Searches for Solace

The young woman wanders across the desolate moors. The only signs of life are the long grasses that tear at her skirts as she pushes her way through. “Not even a sheep,” she thinks. “A sheep would mean a shepherd, wouldn’t it?”

She doesn’t know how she got here, or even what, exactly, she is looking for. All she knows is that she is lost and desperately searching for something. Someone. Somewhere. Hoping to find anything or anyone that could help her understand her situation. She continues to plow her way through the tall grass.

Eventually, she sees a rise in the moors ahead of her. As she gets closer, she can see it is an old house, standing alone in the vast field. Perhaps here she can find an answer, she desperately hopes. She picks up her pace, despite being exhausted from her difficult walk.

After trudging through the overgrown bracken for hours —o r was it days? — the black-clad woman arrives at the dilapidated house. Clearly abandoned for many years, nature had begun her slow process of reclamation. The slightly open door had allowed the elements access, somewhat accelerating the process. The woman stares at the house. Even though she doesn’t know where she is, why she is here, or even her own name, she knows without a doubt that what she seeks lies within.

She puts her shoulder against the door and presses with all her might to open it. She is able to move the debris piled behind it enough to squeeze her way into the building. The interior is just as desolate as the moors had been. No furniture or carpeting, only bare floors, and walls covered with peeling paint.

The woman makes her way from empty room to empty room, growing more desperate with each door she opens. Finally, she flings open the door to what must have been the master bedroom to see what she has been searching for this whole time. There, on the wall is an old painting, a portrait of a handsome man. A message, seemingly written in blood, is scrawled onto the wall beside it.

The woman collapses to her knees as she reads the message. “Zatanna, sorry you missed me. Love, Sifu.”

[Note to the Editors: we are going to need a fucking top-notch cinematographer for this next bit.]

Closeup to the woman’s face, a tear wells up in the corner of her eye and begins to roll down her cheek. The view backs away to show the kneeling woman as she begins to weep. The view expands to the exterior of the ramshackle building. The woman’s wailing can still be heard, but it fades away as the view continues to expand. The house slowly becomes a mere black speck in a field of green. Further expansion and the green field resolves to a tiny green speck in the iris of a woman’s eye. As the view continues to grow, the woman is revealed to be Mistress Zatanna Dark seated in a wheelchair, her eyes glazed and unseeing. A thin trickle of drool runs from the corner of her mouth and down her chin. A hand holding a cloth wipes the drool away.

[I’ll take my accolades, now, thank you.]

“Please wake up, Mistress,” begs Sissy Bella as he tries to keep Zatanna’s beautiful face clean.

“It won’t work, Bella,” says Slave Rod, “she’s Trapped!”

“I blame you for this, you know,” Sissy Bella whines.

“Me?” exclaims Slave Rod, “how is this my fault?”

“Well, you’re the big strong guy,” Bella replies, “isn’t security around here your responsibility? You should have stopped that evil bastard, Sifu, before he could do this.”

“Mistress Zatanna locked me in the Spank-O-Matic 3000 specifically so I couldn’t stop people from playing with her when she was Caught in Bondage!” Rod protests, “I know she just expected to get fucked or whatever, but still, I warned her against it. And what about you? You were there, too, and all you did was give Sifu a blowjob!”

“I said he was an evil bastard,” Bella giggles, “I never said he wasn’t cute. And you know how I love a cute evil bastard.”

“Yeah, well, you’re on diaper duty tonight,” Rod orders as he storms off.

“He says that like it’s a punishment,” Sissy Bella tells his Mistress as he wipes up some more drool.

[Note to Author: We’re not hiring this expensive-ass cinematographer for just one shot. Do another!]

The shot zooms into the beautiful, but insensible, young woman’s face and closes on her eye. As it continues to zoom in, a slight yellow speck can be seen in her iris. As the shot continues to zoom a tiny white spec can be discerned within the yellow. With further magnification, the white speck reveals itself to be the woman who is now trudging through the desert. The only signs of life are the pyramids in the distance, barely visible through the heat haze coming off the boiling sands.

[Note to Editors: Happy now?]

[Note to Author: Now we need a location shoot in Egypt? That’s the end of the story. The budget is becoming ridiculous.]

It’s such a shame she is TRAPPED! The imagination on this young lady was spectacular.

How did she get this way, you wonder?

This is totally unrelated, but it has bazongas in it.