Pipeline
Chapter One Ken flexed, and writhed. It helped a little, but the only part of him that was close to unfettered were his feet. His predicament was an imposing and comprehensive set of leather medical restraints securing him to the twin bed in the dark room. The temperature was comfortable, if a little cool, and the mattress was soft, so there was that. Ankles, thighs, waist, chest, wrists, biceps, a peculiar head harness, shoulder and crotch straps kept him efficiently in place. His hands were ensconced in some sort of mitts– they had him grip a sort of racquetball in each fist before donning them. A muzzle pressed against his lips snugly, keeping in a chewable yet mouth-filling wad. Somehow he could breathe through it, but it kept him from making much noise. The harness about his head kept his mouth compressed around the wadding, and straps employed the harness in keeping his head positioned and still as he lay in the sleeping position they had put him in for several nights now– on his back, and entirely immobile. ...