Prison on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Subspace - Emma's Fetish Cruise Adventure

Sun, 03 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Part 28: Mindfuck

“You didn’t invite me to your orgy last night?” Princess’s voice echoed in the small room.

Emma had no desire to open her eyes as she laid on the floor, curled up under a blanket. The petite body she was spooning rolled over and buried her face in Emma’s chest.

“There was no orgy. All of us are wearing chastity belts. Now let me sleep.”

“Chastity belts don’t preclude you from having an orgy. We have an appointment soon and our resident therapist is missing.”

642, Mind Diary of a Judicial Slave

Sat, 21 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter Six - Runaway Slave

Cycle 4378, Day 201

It has been almost three weeks since I was with my Master. I find myself almost hungering for him. It is as if I need him inside me. I find myself getting wet when I remember our last night together. I was so hoping that he would send for me again, but the very next morning he left on urgent business… or at least that is what he told Mooreena, the house administrator, to tell everyone.

Your Master Requires Your Commitment

Sun, 28 Sep 2025 00:00:00 +0000

A Phone Call*

“Thanks for the heads up, Gary,” the Director spoke into the phone. “It won’t alter anything but being informed Psycho Sally was behind her transfer is good to know. I’m aware of Sally’s reputation and what she does for a living. We don’t have any business dealings with her, since she would never agree to the conditions we impose on our female visitors. Anyway, my advice is to tread carefully. You’ve seen for yourself she isn’t someone you’d ever want to cross.”

SecureLok Transport System

Fri, 30 May 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 1

American Prisoner Transport

Like many government agencies, the Department of Corrections faced mounting pressure to cut costs. At the January budget oversight committee meeting, Section Chief Terry Manning identified six areas of overspending. One stood out: interstate prisoner transport. Gone were the days of white buses with barred windows ferrying inmates across state lines. The maintenance costs were unsustainable, and the security risks too high. Those buses had become prime targets for gangs or hired mercenaries looking to stage mass escapes. Even newer methods—like unmarked black SUVs—had their limits. Air travel was the biggest expense. The federal prisoner transfer hub in Oklahoma City still operated flights for high-risk inmates, but each Boeing 737 cost $25,000 per flight hour. With security restrictions limiting capacity to just 50 inmates per trip, a single coast-to-coast transport could cost upwards of $250,000. As a result, extraditions were delayed—sometimes indefinitely—until a plane could be filled to justify the cost.

Sally's Subject

Sat, 26 Apr 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Sally’s Subject III: Leverage

Tribunal*

_When Denny regained consciousness, he was lying face down on a concrete floor. His wrists were bound close together behind his back with rigid cuffs. His ankles had received the same treatment, also clamped in a larger version of the cuffs on his wrists. His knees were bent back due to the short connecting chain running from hand to foot, through a ring suspended from the ceiling. When he tried to straighten his legs, his arms were pulled up behind his back, sending an agonizing pain through his shoulders._Okay, that’s not going to work. I’m in some kind of hogtie, except it’s with shackles instead of rope.* He turned his head to one side, trying to gauge how well he was trussed up. From what he could tell it wasn’t good. The connecting chain was too short to attempt any kind of movement. It wasn’t too much of a strain if he held still, but it would quickly pull taut if he strayed off his spot on the floor.

Dungeons and Dragons

Sat, 08 Mar 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Part 2

Chapter 6: Adventure

The party stepped from the main street of Home Town onto a partly paved road that led towards a forest, Ellie walking at the back clutching the dagger and trying to decide what to do with it. The three warriors, Battle Babe, Bu-Shi-Doll and Valkyrie were leading and Amazon followed a little behind, casting occasional glances back at her daughter. Then came Katana Girl, walking straight-backed, her sword in her left hand. Despite her initial wonder at the world she had entered, Ellie was feeling very much that she did not fit in, that coming here had been a bad idea and deciding to play a Seductress was even worse.

Sally's Subject

Mon, 11 Nov 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Sally’s Subject II: Put to the Question

Too Much*

When Denny opened his eyes and looked around, he found nothing to offer him hope or explanation. He was sitting in a very small room, barely more than a closet, propped up in a corner with his back to the wall. The floor was cold concrete, there were no windows, and the one door was a solid metal barrier with no way to open it from the inside.

Subspace - Emma's Fetish Cruise Adventure

Sat, 11 May 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Part 20. Conjugal Visits

SLAP!

Emma felt the impact across her cheek knocking her out of her slumber.

SLAP!

Emma felt the sting on her cheek again becoming more aware. She tried to lift her hands to protect herself, but they only moved a couple of inches as the chain clattered. She felt them pull taut with the metal bracelets encircling her wrists leaving her exposed. She barely realized her head was being held up by her hair.

Subspace - Emma's Fetish Cruise Adventure

Sun, 03 Mar 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Part 18. Torture Room Tour and Experience

“Did I cum while or after I passed out?” Emma asked as she was being walked to her next destination after being cleaned up.

She had little time to recover from her kinky near death experience as she saw it. Being choked out was something she wasn’t against. Drowned by someone else’s piss was not on her list. It just came to show Emma’s vulnerability inside Subspace Prison and her status as epsilon. She was definitely nervous but also curious and excited about what the guards and the warden would do to her. They were pushing her limits further than she expected at times but she both dreaded and desired more. While she had a bit of a scare, she knows that her health and life in general were important especially with some of the extra precautions she has been forced to take.

Leon City Stories

Sun, 11 Feb 2024 00:00:00 +0000

17: Best Catburglar/Kidnapper Ever IV

“Rest well, Boot, we’ll continue after the weekend. Don’t think I’ll grant you any slack!”

“Never expected it, sir!” said Caitlyn to her instructor, Officer Ruiz. He had a tough exterior, but he was an excellent teacher. After her abduction, he had taken Caitlyn under his wing and made it clear right from the start that he would treat her just like all the other rookies before her. Just like Caitlyn wanted. She didn’t want any special treatment.

Subspace - Emma's Fetish Cruise Adventure

Sat, 27 Jan 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Part 17. Bound To Serve Time

Emma was not sure how much she slept. It was a nightmare more than she expected. Worst part was that she asked for it. If she wasn’t exhausted she wouldn’t have likely gotten any.

Emma remembered she finally met beta for the first time. She was shorter and far slimmer than Emma imagined. The extensive surgeries and treatments removed all the masculinity. Despite her femininity, she was truly genderless as a metal disk with a small protrusion replaced her former genitals.

Your Master Requires Your Company

Thu, 09 Nov 2023 00:00:00 +0000

The Problem

“So here’s the problem we face,” the Director began his explanation for calling in Robert and Big Mike. “A serious situation is developing that threatens to expose the Center, one that forces us to act immediately. There’s an investigative reporter who uncovered some potentially damaging information. Fortunately we have someone on site who is working to deflect the reporter’s attention, but that’s not going to buy us much time. We do have a long term solution, but to implement it we need your help.”

Keyholder Demoness

Thu, 27 Jul 2023 00:00:00 +0000

Book 3

Chapter 01

“Your sister was right. You are the most stubborn person I have ever met,” Empusa said to Charity in her proper British accent..

On the other side of the steel bars that formed a sparse cell furnished with only a narrow cot, Charity raised her right hand with her middle finger extended.

Empusa scoffed. “The groomers and stable hands report that you are constantly talking to yourself. I know what you are trying to do! You obviously have decided that if you can hold on to your language then you can prevent the Zoic Amplifier that is locked around your waist from transitioning you to your true calling as a womanimal.”

Everbind

Sun, 02 Jul 2023 00:00:00 +0000

The courtroom buzzed with grim anticipation as people filled the benches, craning their necks for a glimpse of the defendant. Alice Merton, a bright, twenty-eight-year-old scientist, walked into the room, a stark figure in her striped prison garb. Her back was rigid, her steps measured, defiance etched in every line of her posture. Her face, framed by tousled brunette hair pulled into a severe bun, was obscured by a clear spit mask, a dehumanizing shield against unwanted aggression. Yet, through it, her eyes were discernible – clear, icy blue, and full of steely resolve.

The Prison of My Dreams

Sat, 24 Jun 2023 00:00:00 +0000

My name is Amanda. I’m 34 years old, 1.65 m, and 62 kg. I’m fit (hot), with big breasts, strong legs, and a thin waist. I’ve always fantasized about being trapped in prison full of handcuffs and restraints. However, I wanted a safe and controlled environment. I heard about BDSM Paradise, a remote island in the Caribbean, from a friend, and I immediately became interested. I got in touch and received a quote and a form to fill out. The price was too high, but I could afford it (thanks to a nice inheritance I received). The form was quite long, with personal details, medical details, and a list of what they offered, and I would have to mark what I preferred. The list was as follows:

Subspace - Emma's Fetish Cruise Adventure

Tue, 09 May 2023 00:00:00 +0000

Part 7. Warden and Inmate Epsilon

Emma was still basically naked except for her chastity belt and needle filled chastity bra. The four cuffs on her wrists and ankles as well as her collar were still shackled together by heavy chains. Her leash was pulled taut as she followed Miss Keys through the corridors of the ship barefoot. Emma at least got an amazing view of Miss Keys’ backside as she gracefully walked ahead of her.

Reversal of Fortune

Tue, 14 Feb 2023 00:00:00 +0000

Breakfast

“On your knees!” Edith snapped at me. Slowly I struggled to get my legs under me so I could obey her order. As usual my hands were cuffed behind my back, with a waist chain to keep them in place. I was forced to sleep like that every night after I foolishly directed an unflattering remark toward one of the guards. She didn’t appreciate it and found a most uncomfortable way to demonstrate her displeasure.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Tue, 07 Feb 2023 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 42

43

I’d come from another delightful trip to the feeding stations of Level 4 and returned completely refreshed and reinvigorated to Warden’s office on Sublevel 2. I noticed a neat stack of pink towels on a side table and squirmed with carnal joy. A fresh influx of Elixir always has drastic effects on one’s libido but when combined with the thought of laundry duty it was all I could do to not start humping our Matron’s sexy white rubber leg immediately.

Island II - North Island Diary

Wed, 30 Nov 2022 00:00:00 +0000

Day 1

Plan B

Barbara Manning tossed the rejection form letter onto the table. It wasn’t unexpected; she knew in advance her chances of being accepted were poor. Still, it was a disappointment. Based on her research the Facility would have been the ideal place to achieve her dream. Now she’d have to move on to her “Plan B”, the closest alternative she could find.

There were the standard routes endorsed by the South Island government: apprentice to a company; enter into the first phase of a standard agreement; or for a lucky few being accepted by the Facility. The last option was now out of reach. The company route was the least attractive option, since it might take years to reach the same stage as a standard agreement. And for a standard agreement she needed a second party, which brought her back to the original problem: there was no second party. Both approaches were far too slow and cautious for her taste. And neither really addressed her underlying need.

Island - New Arrivals

Mon, 10 Oct 2022 00:00:00 +0000

New Arrivals

Prologue

Isla Del Sur, known simply as the Island to its inhabitants, was first discovered in the 16th century when a Portuguese merchant ship bound for Japan went off course after rounding the African Cape. Lost in the Indian Ocean, the ship stumbled across the uninhabited island group. The captain marked it on a chart, refreshed his supplies of food and water, and headed due west, eventually finding the African coast, where he continued on his way. Upon his return to Portugal the chart of the new discovery was forwarded to the Royal Archives and became one more state secret. It was lost until the 19th century when a minor clerk checking historical records discovered the well-preserved chart with the hand-written notes detailing how the islands were found. He immediately recognized the worth in what he had found and sold the secret to an English businessman, one of the many who came to Portugal each year to buy port wine.

Reversal of Fortune

Mon, 08 Aug 2022 00:00:00 +0000

Planning*

My situation was not improving. They had me kneeling on a mobile platform, ankles and knees held down with leather straps. Behind my back my wrists were clamped together with manacles attached to a cable. That cable went to a winch mounted on a beam over my head. My arms were pulled up behind my back, forcing me to bend over till my head nearly touched the platform. Otherwise I was sure to dislocate my shoulders, or worse.

A Night in the Desert

Tue, 26 Jul 2022 00:00:00 +0000

The Plan

She had planned it all very carefully. The time, the location, weather, equipment, even the phase of the moon for light; everything was perfect. Now she faced the one last decision to put her plan into action, the final moment at which she could stop, back out, and change her mind. Little did she realize how a simple weekend outing would turn into an adventure that profoundly changed her life.

Cell

Thu, 21 Jul 2022 00:00:00 +0000

Here I am, kneeling on the cross on the floor in my new cell, waiting for my mistress. It is 5 minutes until 10 am. I am dressed in a satin black and white maids outfit, a corset that was made for me, I had put it on this morning and tightened it the best I could, my waist is constricted to 30 inches, but the corset can be tightened to reduce my waist to 24 inches. The corset has 8 suspenders to hold up the black seamed stockings that I am wearing, covered by the 4” heels that are locked on with padlocks, the keys are upstairs. I am wearing a stainless steel cock cage, this is small and if I attempt to get an erection quickly become uncomfortable. This has been locked on for the last week on mistress’s instructions, the absence of some relief has been driving me mad.

Your Master Requires Thirty Days

Sat, 09 Jul 2022 00:00:00 +0000

How It Came To Be

“Is it true, Paula? You came here, to the Center, by choice?” The question came from Trina, the most recent addition to the circle of friends. The two women had something in common. Katrina, Trina for short, had also started her life at the Center as a willing if uninformed participant.

The dinner conversation had turned to early days at the Center, a safe topic since they weren’t in the secure area. Paula and Big Mike, her master, were the earliest arrivals at the Center among the group sitting around the table. Paula looked a question at Big Mike, silently seeking permission to answer.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Tue, 21 Jun 2022 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 40

41

Once again Dear Reader, I must apologise. I’ve spent countless weeks living in the most unimaginable bliss and have yet again neglected to record them.

My previous life has all but entirely evaporated from my mind. Never did I conceive it remotely possible that I would inhabit such a glorious world as this.

The timelines are all mixed up in my airy-fairy head but I remember speaking of the decision I made in the white room to restrict myself to one meal a day. And it was not long thereafter that I awoke back in my own cell on Sublevel 2 without an inkling of how I had come to be there.

Reversal of Fortune

Mon, 30 May 2022 00:00:00 +0000

A Bad Night

I woke up with a headache and a bad taste in my mouth. That wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but I had no idea why. Try as I might I could not remember a single thing after eating lunch yesterday. I think it was yesterday; I wasn’t even sure of the date.

That’s when I fully woke up. Something was very wrong. I was lying on my stomach, with my hands and arms behind my back. Or rather fastened behind my back; I recognized the bite of handcuffs locked on my wrists. The moment I tried to move my hands I discovered the chain around my waist, holding the handcuffs in position in the small of my back. I knew what that meant: transport chains, enhanced security, and a serious problem for me.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Tue, 01 Mar 2022 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 39

40

Once the test on Level 10 timed out I immediately turned and made my way back to the shelf from which I had procured the helpful lanyard. As I raised my arm to replace it a dull thump penetrated the layers of my isolation. I turned and saw that my dressing assistant and the Nurse had returned. The Californian was speaking rapidly as she strode towards me but not a word of it penetrated my helmet and hoods. She brusquely took the lanyard from my big black rubber mitten. Her voice was louder now but still beyond my comprehension. Our Nurse handed her a phone, pointing to the screen. Soon the lively monologue of my assistant was assaulting my ears through the communications link.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Thu, 20 Jan 2022 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 37

38

My pink day-suit hugged me. My vacuum-sealed Aquala squeezed me. Massive Thor enveloped me whole. The extreme weight of my accessories pushing me towards the Earth were powerless to stop my flight to the heavens. Within the otherworldly diving helmet I’d reached yet another level of heavy rubber immersion. I’d all but forgotten that I had ever had another life before entering the Institute.

A familiar voice startled me. I scanned the room through the thick glass but my assistant and the Nurse had vanished, leaving me unattended. “Earth to 123, can you hear me?”

Your Master Requires Your Obedience

Sun, 16 Jan 2022 00:00:00 +0000

Center Express

Trina, short for Katerina, stole a glance at the guard sitting next to her. He seemed to be bored; that was understandable considering how many times he must have traveled this road. Bored but always alert, she noticed when he sat up in swift reaction to her sidelong peek. On the job as well, as Trina discovered when he reached behind her back to check on the handcuffs.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Fri, 31 Dec 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 36

37

Our Nurse smiled and pushed the big red teat of the bottle to my open lips. Promiscuously she said nothing for a time, sliding the smooth rubber around the circumference of my mouth and teasing me. She made a show of almost removing it before finally shoving the ultimate pacifier fully home and saying simply “suck”. I obliged, just as I had the very first time in the back of the van when I met her ages before. “Suck harder!” she had said when my initial efforts failed to yield a drop of the pink goo. There was no need for such exhortations on this occasion, my practiced lips and tongue devoured the large red nipple, squeezing its vital contents deep within me. My groin tingled as I simultaneously pushed the diving helmet against it and continued my feeding, the weight of my ensemble slowly seeming to lessen as my strength and sexual desire grew.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Sat, 11 Dec 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 34

35

My dressing assistant removed her charming snake from my chest and took it away. When she returned I soon realized why she had been chosen for the job. From the rack of drysuits along a wall she removed a ‘Thor’ made by Northern Diver and carried it towards me as though it were a light summer dress. The suit is the heaviest of the heavy suits made. I would have struggled just to get it off the rack and drag it clumsily for a few feet. I’d never worn one, having been totally impressed with the heft of the Gates Pro HD1500 but these are at least half again the weight of those. The Californian held it aloft with one arm and undid its huge stiff zipper which ran along the length of the shoulders in the back. “Raise your legs, 123,” she ordered.

The Prop Room

Wed, 17 Nov 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Special FX

From On High

“So what do you think?” Joe asked as he hit the stop button on the DVD. “My impression, it was too contrived. There was no way she could get away from him. There were so many coincidences that it distracted from the story. A competent screenwriter might be allowed one deus ex machina, but I counted at least three, maybe four times the plot was saved by a miracle.”

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Mon, 08 Nov 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 32

33

Awaking to the usual sounds of cell doors being unlocked and prisoners being escorted to the elevator for their daily tasks above, I recalled what my day ahead promised: an evaluation on Level 10. Before I knew it I had been strapped into one of the automated wheelchairs by our Warden and after whizzing past the mysterious ’noisy room’ with its usual mechanical ministrations, waited with some trepidation for the return of the lift. On the way up I was happily surprised when our Nurse stepped inside at Level 6. She gave me the cheeriest of greetings with a knowing smile as I stared unabashedly at her bewitching presence. She looked like she had just left the set of a very high end pornographic production with a medical theme. The light green rubber mini dress just barely covering the very tops of her gleaming white legs, her make-up a little extreme but professionally applied, her shining patent boots laced like corsets, cosseting her curvaceous calves…she even sported a cute little rubber hat with a red cross on a white background. I was enamoured anew.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Wed, 25 Aug 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 30

31

Back in my old cell weeks later I slept the sleep of the sinless. Our Matron had welcomed me home so enthusiastically and lovingly that I was able to forget, at least for a time, the places I’d travelled to on Level 8. After she had finished another chapter of her story and wished me goodnight I soon fell into a deep dreamless void.

It was nice to get back to the old routines. Things were just the same as before but I had a fresh appreciation for all their wonderful detail and perfection. Some problems did arise however, particularly in the first week or so. My stay on Level 8 had sapped me of much of my strength and endurance: too much time floating weightlessly and not enough exercising.

Your Master Requires Your Perfection

Sat, 07 Aug 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Arrival

Once the police had me in the van I had nowhere to go. The seat belt held me down, with the buckle out of my reach so I couldn’t take it off. The reason for that were the handcuffs on my wrists, keeping my hands secured behind my back. Although I knew the arrest was staged everything was by the book. The officers who took me into custody played their part well, almost as if they weren’t aware it was all preplanned.

Your Master Requires Your Allegiance

Thu, 15 Jul 2021 00:00:00 +0000

First Day Jitters

“I am the instructor for this class. You will address me as Miss Cathy. Learn what I teach you, and you will be able to leave this place.” For emphasis she tapped the pointer on the floor.

“Nice touch, but be sure you look around the room. Try to make eye contact with everyone.” Robert sat on the couch while Cathy rehearsed her first class, only two days away. “Remember, when you come in they’ll all be watching you. You’ll be an unknown quantity; they don’t know what to expect. Don’t rush; slow, confident and deliberate till you get to your spot at the head of the class. Make sure they wait for you. Don’t look down, and don’t look away from them. Keep telling yourself that you’re in charge. You can do whatever you want, so by definition you can’t make a mistake.”

Your Master Requires Your Attendance

Thu, 24 Jun 2021 00:00:00 +0000

In the Elevator

I won’t tolerate it any more, Laura told herself, watching the penthouse elevator doors close. Frank could be so stubborn and infuriating at times, but this was too much. She loved him more than life itself and would do anything for him, but he had to respect her need for her own space and time. Tonight it had come to a head, first his smug declaration that she would attend the party with him, followed by his refusal to let her stay home after she had pleaded with him to let her finish talking with her friends on the Internet. The party was some kind of retirement dinner for one of Frank’s co-workers and a long-time friend of his. She knew it was going to be dull and didn’t want to go. He had simply turned off her computer and told her to get ready.

Your Master Requires Your Presence

Tue, 08 Jun 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Hindsight

Cathy leaned back in her seat, resigned to her fate. In hindsight it had been childish and stupid; she should know better. But she’d done it anyway, and now she must suffer the consequences. If she had only stopped to think, listened, made the effort to understand, none of this would have been necessary. As she sat there, under the guard’s watchful eye, she thought back to how it began. Was it really only a day ago?

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Sun, 06 Jun 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 26

27

Dear reader, I must apologize again. My writing has withered in both quantity and quality since my recent time away from the keyboard. The free flow of words has been supplanted by the pulling of proverbial teeth, every sentence a painful chore. Worse yet, I’m becoming tempted to spend one of my weekly three hour sessions of ‘freedom’ doing something else for a change, rather than trying to hack through the jungle of my mangled wordplay. A strange craving for french fries has beset me and I picture myself watching some mindless sitcom or comforting old movie whilst idly nibbling on the crispy, greasy fingers of umami.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Sun, 06 Jun 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 28

29

It’s been perhaps three months since that day. Untold weeks on Level 8 followed by the return to my beloved ’normal’ life at the ICRI. The first night after my release was particularly poignant, with an emotional welcome home from our Matron, the Warden of Sublevel 2. We both had a good cry as her big white rubber arms squeezed me as though to never let me leave again. I felt almost like the prodigal daughter although of course we both knew that I had taken no initiative in my departure. I could, in hindsight, have hastened my return but we all need to learn our lessons at our own pace. I guess I’m kind of slow.

Rubberclad Rebellion

Sun, 02 May 2021 00:00:00 +0000

The last guard was kicking and flailing, struggling and flailing with her legs in pointless resistance. Tara held the guard in place while Valeria got to work finishing the bindings. Although the guard was quite a bit taller than either of the two, a mix of cooperation and dumb luck made sure that it was the rebels that were victorious , and the guards the ones wrapped in tape and rope.

The Kingdom

Wed, 28 Apr 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter fifteen

CHAPTER 16 - PAIN IS TEMPORARY (KATIE’S STORY)

I shifted weakly in my restraints, hoping to find a more comfortable position on the bed I was restrained to. For the past several hours, I’d been lying on my back, immobilized by a latex straitjacket and leashed to the top of my bed frame. A leather strap connecting the front and back of the straitjacket ran uncomfortably between my naked legs. Fortunately, my feet were left unrestrained so I was able to curl in a fetal position to compensate for the lack of a blanket.

2520 AD

Tue, 23 Mar 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1b

I was left alone for some time and when I eventually flagged two CAs released my neck and arms so that I could replace the chastity tube myself.

I was then fully released, given the dressing gown and taken cuffed back to my cell where I was made to sit again quietly, contemplating my next time with the Hades bitch. Later, I was allowed to sleep naked in the bed, my hands fitted with locked-on thick leather mitts to “prevent me attempting any type of pleasure,” as they explained.

The Lapdog

Sun, 21 Mar 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 2: Petgirl at Work

Lisa sighed as the guard walked her through the cellblock. She had thought that her problems would be over after she’d been freed from Miss Davenport.

“Can’t you take these handcuffs off? It’s hard to walk with my hands behind my back.”

The guard laughed and slapped her ass. She had a mean glint in her eyes that made Lisa nervous. “Better get used to them, honey. Now that they’ve finally caught up with you for insider trading, you’re going to be in here for a long time. You’re going to spend a lot of your sentence this way if I have anything to say about it! I bet you wish that rich lady still owned you.”

2520 AD

Sun, 14 Mar 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1

It’s the year 2520 and our planet and the way it’s treated by the human race have completely changed in the last five hundred years. There are no longer wars between nations because it is females only who run the planet.

More than four hundred years ago, with constant warring taking place simply depleting and wasting our planet’s valuable resources, a momentous decision had to be made. The Earth and mankind was on the brink of destruction due to the very way mankind had behaved and treated it.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Sat, 23 Jan 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 22

23

Somehow the return of the Dominatrix had re-centred my consciousness into the ‘me’ that was strapped in place. Yet the new floating sadist me was still present: I was suffering from multiple assaults on my senses and getting off on it at the same time.

Warden 7 produced a shining metallic device vaguely resembling a half clam shell but curved inward on both ends. It was thick and heavy looking and was soon attached to the chair between my legs and re-positioned so that it completely covered my genitalia. There must have been a hole or slot for my catheter tube since I felt no sensation of it. An electrical cord trailed away from the thing and disappeared out of sight. To this day I know not the mechanism by which the odd machine functioned.

Pour Your Sugar on Me

Sun, 10 Jan 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter One

A loud, piercing tone woke up Warden Tommy Tuber. It was a few minutes after 3 a.m. He glanced at his girlfriend. Sleeping on her stomach, she was still in the hot pink corset she wore when he had made love to her a few hours earlier. He pulled the white satin sheet over her sexy derriere seconds before the large computer screen captured their images in bed.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Thu, 24 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter twenty

21

Although home to the Initiation Ceremony due to its symbolic location, Level 3 is generally concerned with the more mundane matters of existence. Most everything associated with the necessary, if somewhat boring everyday affairs of maintaining a large building and its sapphic cult of inhabitants is delegated and dispatched by its more-than-capable Warden. It is here that one reports for cleaning duties, for all the tools and tricks of the trade congregate within. It is here that one comes for assistance should a hinge be loose, a window cracked, a vent stuck. It is here that bills are paid, supplies ordered, taxes filed. In general, if something needs to be done and it is beyond the capability or dignity of a higher Warden, it is here that they must come to beg for assistance.

The Convict Lockdown

Sun, 15 Nov 2020 00:00:00 +0000

Zoe was a student on summer break from college. She saw an ad for a prison museum which was offering an overnight ghost hunt and as a bonus the participants are dressed in period prison uniforms and get to sleep in a locked cell. They call the event Convict Lockdown. Zoe was super excited about the prison uniforms and being locked in a cell, though the ghost hunt was not a big deal to her. Zoe called them and reserved her spot, or cell, as the person at the prison museum put it!

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Tue, 15 Sep 2020 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter thirteen

14

The weeks that followed my Initiation Ceremony were pleasant enough as I settled into my new life and became accustomed to the routines and inevitable surprises of the Institute. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that that time was a bit of a let down after the glorious otherworldly highs of my amazing ‘birthday’ but that was only to be expected. It reminded me of the way I used to feel after the Christmas and New Year’s festivities were over and I would return to the everyday tasks of life. Rejoining with Zero in Infinity I had likened to Christmas and my orgasmic explosion was Times Square when the countdown completes.

The Prison Swap

Tue, 08 Sep 2020 00:00:00 +0000

It was another night of kinky roleplay for Zoe and Jennifer, pretty twenty five year olds. They had been friends since school, and had discovered their kinky side some time ago whilst having one too many drinks. What started out as friendship turned into a relationship.

This particular roleplay revolved around playing prisoner and warden. Zoe, always the submissive, loved being locked away. They had a small basement in their house which had a lockable door at the top of the stairs. It had several bolts. There were no windows and just a single fluorescent light that could be turned on and off from the outside only. They’d removed everything from the basement except for a single metal frame bed and they’d arranged for a sink and toilet to be installed.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Sun, 30 Aug 2020 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter ten

11

I was weak. My siesta had not only magnified my pre-existing fatigue and sore back but had added a stiff neck to my lot as well. As the elevator stopped on Level 5 the Warden of Sublevel 2 wished me luck and gently pushed me out of the car. The door had begun to re-close even before it had completely opened, as though she wanted nothing to do with the Gymnasium and its relentless staff, afraid she might be spotted and targeted for some unscheduled input to the cause. I smiled to myself at the thought of our Matron strapped to a treadmill, her big white rubber waders squeaking in agony as Warden 5 admonished her to quicken the pace.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Sat, 01 Aug 2020 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter eight

9

043 knew better than to attempt a completion of our dance. The surveillance of the prisoners is very circumspect when they aren’t under direct supervision. She may have deemed the risk acceptable with our preoccupied Warden in the room; now though, whomever was reviewing the day’s video would surely take more notice of two unbound inmates in near proximity. I looked at the presumably frustrated ballerina and was surprised to see an expression of serene acceptance with a hint of a smile. I realized that I had never seen her at peace before. She always seemed to be fighting or rebelling against her fate and that was probably the main reason that I had disliked and distrusted her. Perhaps we could be friends after all but I still needed to know more.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Sun, 12 Jul 2020 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter six

7

My initiation day couldn’t have started any better. I was so enthralled with my tack that I had almost forgotten the glorious steed I was to be mated to. As Warden led me back towards the beast my heart leapt anew and any concerns I had about the upcoming vote upon my future were the furthest thing from my enraptured mind. The lowest foothold was so high off the ground that I couldn’t imagine being able to gain my mount without a ladder but Warden proceeded to its tail and with the press of a button the hydraulic legs sunk into themselves and brought the entire stallion lower. She helped me get my left leg up to the intended ledge and I swung myself unceremoniously up and over the main torso with my right leg landing in place. The feel of the padded rubber horse between my thighs was exquisite and I squeezed tight, pushing my groin downwards yearning for further sensation.

Cell Zero

Wed, 08 Jul 2020 00:00:00 +0000

It would’ve been a bit too obvious to place the cell door at the end of a long hallway. Blueprints had originally called for heavy doors and extra security along the hallway - tripwires, security cameras, sensors, and more. They had been all thrown out. There was no need for such excessive force. Such measures merely enticed a breakout and added mystique.

Cell Zero was hidden in plain sight. It had no label and only a simple nine-digit keypad for entry. As an alternative, an ordinary metal key would do the trick. There was no need for obscene defensive measures when the cell could’ve been mistaken for a broom closet.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Wed, 10 Jun 2020 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter four

5

I had wanted to thank Warden Sub2 for all her kindness and care but words seemed inappropriate and out of place in our initial relationship. I knew that she knew that I appreciated and adored her from the first. As tired as I was, the thought of sleep seemed implausible after she had fixed me up for the night…so many thoughts and sensations reeling through my mind. My introduction to my new life with ICRI couldn’t have possibly gone better in a million years: everything seemed utterly perfect and preordained. I lay in my thick rubber night-suit, pinned beneath the heavy rubber sheet upon my padded rubber bed and revelled in the mysteries of Creation.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Fri, 08 May 2020 00:00:00 +0000

1

“Try to get a good night’s sleep, your first swimming lesson is tomorrow and it can be quite rigorous.” The Warden of Sublevel 2 spoke just loudly enough for me to hear her through the two layers of rubber isolating me. I sensed her leaving and soon felt the vibration of the heavy steel door close and its large deadbolt thrust shut. I always feel a little shiver of joy/fear at that moment, even though I should be getting used to it by now.

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

Fri, 08 May 2020 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter two

3

Warden 10 minced rapidly into the room, her little strides making staccato explosions as she disappeared behind me. “We will start her off with the simplest and lightest gear today, Forty-Three,” her commands unquestionable. “This, and these, this one…that will do,” she must have been pointing out to 043 the items which would constitute my first foray into the underwater realm - which as far as I could tell, didn’t exist in this building.

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

Wed, 06 Nov 2019 00:00:00 +0000

Story continues from part 5

Part 6: Back to Reality

The next morning I awoke with a slight sore head due to all the alcohol I had consumed the day before. I wasn’t drunk but, I could feel him watching me. “Good morning master” I said sleepily.

“Good morning darling….we need to talk” I could sense something was in the wind.

“Well I am all ears master”

“What are the key principles of BDSM?”

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

Sat, 24 Aug 2019 00:00:00 +0000

Story continues from part 4

Part 5: Positive Steps

It had been a month since our demonstration and a lot of things had or were about to change in that short amount of time. My master was away with a friend on a special trip, code for we are going to do a job that will take half a day and we will spend the rest of the time in a bar getting drunk! He thinks I button up the back however its almost adorable seeing him squirm as he makes up his excuses as to why this trip is going to take 4 days. Nothing really changes when he is away. I still wear only stockings, garter belt and heels around the house & I always wear my collar, cuffs and chains as if he were here, I just become my own master for a few days but, I do long for him and the mere thought of him makes my juices begin to flow uncontrollably.

We Always Get One

Tue, 18 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000

We always get one you know. This one stood at the back of the room looking across at me and had that distant look on her face. I meant to say that she was different from the others on the tour. But they always had the same sort of look. The place was atmospheric I agree; but you have to wonder.

The tour started at the reception. The big steel door closed with a loud echoing bang. The heels of their shoes clicked and snicked as they walked on the tiled floor to the first cell block. I began my patter surveying the crowd. This one was middle-aged and very attractive, on her own, and standing at the back.

Escape From Prison

Sat, 23 Feb 2019 00:00:00 +0000

It was another dull day at the All Women’s Penitentiary for Jasmine. Captured in her early 20s for being involved in a huge drug trafficking operation, Jasmine was closing in on 30 now and only just halfway through her sentence. The sheer thought of being in here for another 8 years depressed her. Often Jasmine dreamed of escape, but she could never find a loophole in the tight security. She sat in the outer courtyard wishing another day away. The inmates were allowed outside daily, and on Thursdays the majority of them usually played basketball. However, Jasmine wasn’t keen on basketball and would spend her “outdoor time” away from the courts.

Gag Sentence

Mon, 10 Dec 2018 00:00:00 +0000

story continues from part three

Day 4

After the torments of day 3 were over and I collapsed onto my mattress I was unable to get any sleep at all. I had just lay there awake all night crying and thinking about my situation, about how trapped I was. I had never felt more helpless and alone in my life, I doubted anyone ever had. Everyday of my sentence so far I had made some infraction of the rules and earned more days to my sentence. I was terrified that my torment might never end; I would be tortured here day after day until I finally died in misery and pain.

Gag Sentence

Mon, 10 Dec 2018 00:00:00 +0000

story continues from part two

Day 3

After my second day of my sentence I was so much pain that sleep was nearly impossible. I needed sleep desperately to put an end to the constant pain I was in. My shoulders and my jaw were an unending throbbing pain. I could barely move my jaw at all and my arms were almost useless.

I had laid on the tiny mattress trying fall asleep but the pain and memories of the previous day of agony kept me awake most of the night. Unaware of time, all I had was a timer that read all zeros, and then the door swung open startling me from my haze.

Secret Prison

Thu, 30 Aug 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Hidden away in the wildness of North Wales was a large farm. The farm was made up of a two-storey brick house with large windows that looked weathered. The house was the first thing you would see coming up off the dirty road. Trees and bushes lined the road to the house and also lined the perimeter. Again this kept the buildings out of sight. About 200ft away from house were a couple of wooden barns. Both barns were completely enclosed with only one small wooden door. A high wire fence had been placed around both barns and a set of cameras watched over them. There were no animals, machinery or crops on the land. Plus the whole area was clean and tidy. It was clearly not a working farm.

Gag Sentence

Mon, 13 Aug 2018 00:00:00 +0000

story continues from part one

Day 2

The cell door opened with a creak. It would take a much louder noise to awaken her after the day she had yesterday. She had fallen asleep quickly despite the considerable pain she had been in. Once asleep she hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Wake up Ms. Thompson.” Mr. Carson said

No reaction she was still sound asleep.

“Ms. Thompson, wake up!” he nearly shouted “Or you’ll get another day.”

Yoko's Experience

Fri, 13 Jul 2018 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Yoko’s Experience 4)

Yoko’s Experience #5: A Prisonic Fairytale

“…and according to the latest changes in our law, all the citizens are obliged to visit their nearest prison, to experience first hand what does it mean to be a prisoner. The knowledge obtained there is supposed to lower the crime factor, especially amongst the youngsters.”

Yoko turned off the TV and just a moment later the telephone rang. It was Hikaru. “Have you seen the news?”, she asked. “Yes, I have.”, replied Yoko. “When are we doing this? I simply can’t wait - just try to imagine all the fun we’re going to have there!”, Hikaru’s voice sounded simply ecstatic. “Well, why am I not surprised even one bit, you little bondage slut… But well, a must is a must. Let’s do it next Friday, right after work.”, said Yoko. “I love your attitude. Here I was, thinking that I’ll have to drag you to your destination, but it seems that our little miss scaredy cat likes the idea of being a prisoner too.”, laughed Hikaru. “Of… Of course I don’t! How can you even suggest something so ridiculous?”, opposed Yoko. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. So this Friday, 4 PM, at my place.”, said Hikaru and hanged up.

Torture Pig

Sat, 23 Jun 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Sophie was enjoying a nice cold glass of white wine as she relaxed in front of the TV. She lived in a beautiful model house just outside the city of Liverpool. She had just had the whole building renovated and had a basement added as well. A massively costly project and that took a long time to complete. Luckily for Sophie her grandparents were fantastically well off and paid for the lot. She never had to lift a finger in order to get money. Sophie was also very pretty and sexy and she knew it. She was also very unlikable as a person and was often on her own. She had no problem with being by herself and found it enjoyable most of the time. Besides she was never alone. Sophie was brutally sadistic and had a list of fetishes longer than a porn website. She had lots of time and money to do whatever she wanted and no one would stop her. Mainly because no one was around to say or do anything. And if they were she would have never listened to them. She had told her grandparents the basement was for for a gym and hot tub, when they paid for the work to be done.

Gag Sentence

Wed, 06 Jun 2018 00:00:00 +0000

I made a big mistake, a BIG mistake. I thought it would be over quicker and so it would be easier. Wrong. How hard could it be? Oh my God! I had eight more days and after one day, actually 8 hours, I thought I was going to die. Let me explain…

In 2033 the crime rate was sky high. The prisons were overflowing. So a law was passed that gave convicted criminals a choice, do much longer time than in the past or do much shorter time in a correctional facility where you would be punished during your sentence. The punishment was in keeping with your crime. For example, my crime was perjury; I was to be punished for speaking falsely so I was to be punished by being gagged. You don’t even want to know the punishment for prostitution, holy shit. Anyway I chose the punishment facility; I figured how hard could a gag be? This is my story of my first day.

Stone Gardens Incarceration System

Thu, 26 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Incarceration is a massive expense for any modern country that wishes to maintain justice, peace and order. The main goals of incarceration are to prevent recidivism, act as a deterrent to potential criminals and protect public safety.

In the case of lesser crimes for non repeat offenders these issues can often most effectively be dealt with using short term incarceration in facilities with high quality education and treatment programs. These programs ensure that inmates leave in good emotional and physical health. When followed by probation services that help with employment, housing and other issues recidivism is often only an insignificant issue.

The Caped Crusaders, The Lost Reels 4: A Hair Of The Dog - Epilogue

Sun, 25 Mar 2018 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Caped Crusaders, The Lost Reels 3: A Hair Of The Dog)

Part 4: A Hair Of The Dog - Epilogue

It had been a week since the charity striptease and Batgirl’s mock abduction while bound with one of her own stockings at the hands of the doughnut eaters, the large men taking Batman’s suggestions to heart and more properly binding the struggling crime fighter with a selection of madam X’s leather cuffs and chains to ensure she got all she possibly could from the experience once safely at the no tell motel they had chosen. The soft and wide leather cuffs buckled on securely while protecting her appendages, the chrome chains making their own unique noises as she rattled them with her passionate struggles through too many big O’s to count as they tugged on the corners of the cheap bed frame they were temporarily attached to.

Cell Zero

Tue, 15 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Emma's Entombment 4

Sun, 15 Nov 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part 3

Part 4

It was Emma who awoke first, cradled in her husband’s arms. Seeing the sun rising over the wonderful Cairo skyline. She sighed and snuggled closer to her man… knowing… knowing… Knowing this might be their last day alive! In the months after her surprise release from the casket by Rashid Feroz and his men, she, and her husband had endured a living hell at the hands of the Egyptian authorities. Yet at first it seemed to have been all right. Emma had stood in the sarcophagus for what seemed hours, convinced now that she was permanently entombed, when suddenly her ears heard a ‘thump’ “Surely… not?” she whispered, then minutes later her eyes blurred with tears as the faint sounds of what appeared to be digging reached her. “Oh Emma, I’m sorry… they’ve come after all!” she wept, part wanting freedom, but also now wondering if this was Tony alone as it got louder. But why was he digging anyway? The sarcophagus only had to be hooked up then winched out, unless that had somehow broken. Gradually she could hear voices… not just Tony when he’d yelled, hoping for her to reply. Trouble being that Emma didn’t want to be freed now if it was not just something between them. The idea she’d get opened up like some exhibit terrified Mrs Cline so the girl didn’t reply. “Please Emma, fight for me… ” she sobbed, those veils soaked with tears and sticking to both cheeks now. Tony was relieved when they arrived there. Himself and Rashid Feroz, plus two men from the museum but the Professor’s wife Fatima was also here; brought by her husband to look after Mrs Cline if she’d survived. Feroz was amazed when Cline showed him the room and his eyes swept the walls, the Brit however was appalled to find the place empty! “But it WAS here Rashid. I promise you… IT WAS HERE!” he said, jabbing at the floor. The two workers looked baffled, their boss guilty as he stared at Cline. “My turn to confess Tony… ” he said. Only Cline’s professionally trained responses to a crisis stopped him killing the Egyptian right there when Feroz told him about the police report. Simmering down after he finished, his boots scraping around and eventually finding the edges of the hatch. “OK, guess we’re as bad. But let’s not waste any more time.” So they began. Cline assembling his winch while the workers dug. Feroz preparing a drill to make some air holes. The three local men’s eyes widened on hitting the top of the sarcophagus. Cline just relieved and it was he who started yelling to his wife, praying for her to respond. Not knowing she was weeping quietly below. The sound of the drill was terrifyingly loud as it bored into the top. Feroz easing it down, worried that he might end up killing Mrs Cline himself. So he did holes in the corners away from where her head should be, several now showing darkness against the sandstone. He stopped after doing ten. Lying on the edge then banged on the top. “Mrs Cline, its Professor Feroz. Are you alright… ?” he said. Everyone listening intently… Twice more he tried and was about to admit defeat when… “Yes Rashid… I’m fine… Is Tony there?” they heard faintly. The two workers looked stunned, each hugging the other, as it appeared their mission was successful now. Cline was in tears, his face buried in both hands before he went and embraced the two men. Fatima standing to one side looking amazed. Her lips moving as she prayed thanks to her God for the deliverance of this lady. Delivering Mrs Cline to the surface took another hour. Now she’d accepted the idea of freedom Emma began to talk to her man as he briefed her on what had happened. She took it well, knowing they would be in Rashid’s debt for many a year now. Either financially or something else. More holes were drilled around the top, obliterating the face now then the whole front part of the head fell away, revealing… The Egyptian group stared at the sight of the white veiled figure inside as they looked down. Tony had not told them about Emma’s attire and he knew the level of embarrassment would get worse as more of his wife’s lovely body was revealed. More digging from the side now and soon they were down halfway. Her chest visible now and the workers stunned as they stared at her breasts. Her face inside rocking slightly, that gold collar around its neck and she was still crying as well. When they stopped for a break everyone except Tony went outside. Leaving him to cradle Emma’s face and try to unlock the first of her restraints. Searching for the lever brought a puzzled look. “They fell out, all six of them,” she shrugged on being asked. Then Cline heard the rest and it made him shudder. Realising that they were going to have to smash the whole sarcophagus apart, in-situ and his heart sank… .only to see her suddenly starting to smile at him. “What’s so funny… honey,” he began, smiling now at the rhyme. She grinned back, trembling as he crouched down and the couple had a long kiss. Emma’s eyes beginning to water again at the thought of freedom seconds away. “The pins are all upright. Now you remember that surely Tony? You put the restraints on. It’s easy. Just put your hands under my arms… and lift!” His head fell against hers and they kissed again before he bent down, sliding his buckets, firstly over those breasts making her squeak before getting into position. Under her armpits and… Emma Cline squealed as she felt herself rising. Neck, back, the legs and her wrists all suddenly loose from their pins. The weight coming off her feet for the first time in ages was SO good as she clung on. Bursting into tears as he brought her up and out of the sarcophagus and laid her down on the sand. Grabbing a blanket that Fatima Feroz had been sitting on while the others had worked. Wrapping Emma’s torso to protect her modesty as she kicked off those shoes with a groan. “Bit late now, those two have been staring at them ever since that big chunk came off. Which, unfortunately is more than can be said for my ‘jewellery.’ They all tightened again after the sarcophagus was closed. Then the handles fell out too. You’re going to have to grind them off!” The collar was going to be the problem. Far too tight to cut from inside out and the other way would risk slicing into an artery. It took Tony long enough to remove the veils, at first feeding them through. Before ending up chopping the material apart from above with a knife then tugging the fragments away. NOW they could properly kiss. Lips locked together and it felt so good as he stroked her cheeks. Dabbing them dry with a hankie, amazed that despite her ordeal Emma still looked lovely, if a little red around the eyes. Make-up was smudged too. “You’re a bloody mess!” She laughed now, hugging him tightly, the tears soon restarting however and that was how the others found them. Locked together and only a polite cough split the couple apart. Rashid Feroz was amazed to see her free. Staring at the gold loops around her limbs, the collar too. Thankfully the blanket covered her body but those long slim legs were clearly visible through the material of her dress. Fatima just looked shocked, but eventually came closer and was hugged by the ‘victim’ as she still thought of the girl. The other two men looked on impassionless now. Seeing as their job was done. Feroz spoke to them both and lots of nodding was done. Cline came up and personally thanked them, then Emma staggered to her feet, wincing in pain but walked over with Fatima’s assistance. Taking their hands and kissing them on both cheeks. It seemed to satisfy the pair, Cline noticing the younger guy had stroked Emma’s ass! They packed away the winch then left, taking the truck with them. Tony intending to drive the other two back in their jeep. Firstly they had to get those restraints off Emma’s body and led her out of the dig. The girl breathing fresh air, even though it was way after dark. Two long hours later Emma Cline was genuinely ‘free’. The last loop cut into three segments lying on the workshop table. She picked up the bit marked ‘Emma’ and briefly kissed it before Tony brought in a suitcase and his wife went alone next door and dressed herself into… well something a little less revealing! Fatima Feroz held Emma’s robe and cradling it to her face with a sigh as the girl returned. Rashid saw this and grinned, his wife starting to blush and she turned away. Mrs Cline taking it from the lady, folding it carefully then ‘presenting’ it with a bow. Feroz saw a look pass between them then the ladies hugged again. The Egyptian’s wife looked to her man and he nodded. An embarrassed smile on Fatima’s face then they all laughed as she went red. She tucked it into a bag then suggested it was time they went home. Cline looked at his watch and winced. Nearly 10pm now and he guessed the hotel ought to be told they were going to be very late. He asked Feroz to call them and the man did, but during the conversation Tony realised something was wrong. Rashid jabbering away then he nodded, seeing Fatima too appeared to be agreeing with him as the call ended. “They thought you were not coming, especially as most of the other guests couldn’t get there either because of the accident.” The two Britons looked puzzled before he explained “Sorry Tony, but a container ship broke free from its moorings and hit your boat, splitting it in two! It’s OK, nobody got killed as the tour hadn’t started receiving guests. The crew is fine too. Some a bit wet, as they had to dive off the back. But it means no vessel, as the company only have the two and the second is up river.” Emma looked disconsolate now, only cheering slightly as the Feroz’s invited them to remain at the house as their guests. Cline didn’t want to impose but it was Fatima who insisted. Rashid going along with it, though he did laugh and asked Emma’ if she’d like to return to her sarcophagus instead! That cracked everyone up and they departed, getting to the Feroz apartment just after midnight. Rashid saying he hoped that they would stay the weekend… as he wanted a longer look at the extra bits at Neen-Al Tudlobry. Now he had the ‘experts’ he hoped more interesting artifacts would appear. Tony looked at his wife and she glowed, the girl intending to be more honest and reveal the existance of the storeroom. So that was agreed and on the Friday afternoon the Professor and both Clines’ returned. Fatima was at work so was unable to come. “Some of us have proper jobs. Unlike you three playing games,” she’d said with a twinkle when they’d prepared to depart. A great day was had; Rashid astonished as he saw the storeroom then asked what else they knew about. Slightly dismayed to find this was ‘it’. As far as the couple had got. “However,” Tony said. “We’re not due to be back in Cairo for six days. If you want, as the cruise is off we’ll do some exploring until then. Get all these documented as well, yes?” Pointing to the hieroglyphics on the wall. Rashid Feroz was delighted, agreeing to that so everyone went back to Cairo where Fatima was told of the plans. Mrs Feroz taking Emma off to go food and supply shopping for the British pair. She was still amazed at what Mrs Cline had endured and they had a ‘girlie’ chat about what it had all been about. Emma finding out that her host had a wonderful sense of humour and they’d enjoy their day out together. A dinner for four at a local restaurant then back to their place. Emma and Tony sitting outside late on as the others had retired early. Going past the couple’s bedroom to use a bathroom Mrs Cline couldn’t help listening. Returning to her own she saw her hubby and slyly grinned. “I think Fatima’s getting full use of my ‘robe’” she murmured. Sunday saw them departing Cairo. Hugs and kisses all round before Tony drove his wife away. The pair now armed with enough stuff to last the week, but also official permits and translated documents from Rashid’s office allowing them to be there too. “I wasn’t able to speak to the police but show them these and you’ll be alright. Good luck… and don’t get stuck again!” he joked and they all laughed at that. The rest of the day the couple worked hard in the room. All the hieroglyphics were photographed and e-mailed to Rashid. Getting a ‘well-done’ in return. They had dinner in the open, sitting outside looking up at the stars once the sun had vanished. “You know Tony, I really thought my time had come, will not happen again,” Emma said cuddling him. Turning in later on he came to the dormitory to see his wife dressed in… “Might have guessed. You’ve been waiting all day to get into one of those haven’t you Mrs?” he grinned. Emma now blushing as she sat on the bed waiting for Tony’s wandering hands that were heading towards her breasts. Monday dawned cool and clear so after breakfast Emma dressed conservatively in her blue maxi-dress, this time without the jacket. Trainers applied and Tony had nodded in approval. Now she was striding towards the dig entrance long after lunch when she heard a jeep coming along the track. It drove right up to her and two policemen got out. Promptly grabbing the girl and naturally Emma screamed as they started yelling at her. When she didn’t reply one of the men slapped her hard across the face and she fell backwards and tumbled to the floor in a cloud of dust. Tony heard the commotion and hurried up the passageway, emerging to see his wife being handcuffed then dragged to the jeep and hurled against the side. Shouting at the cops to stop he advanced. Only for one of them to draw a pistol, ordering him in Arabic to raise his hands. Well, the gesture appeared to be that so Cline obeyed. The driver now got out, obviously the senior man and it was Tony’s turn to get the treatment. Of course being a physically imposing specimen he too was cuffed before the couple were led to the dormitory. The policemen seeing the footprints leading to and from the building and knowing where any other people might be found. Both Britons were told to sit down. Emma looking very scared as she was ‘dusted off’ by wandering hands then she was helped to a chair by the two smirking young officers. Her cuffs digging into the wrists and she was already worried about nerve damage as they were far too tightly applied. Cline did his best. Indicating where Feroz’s permits were and one of the men grabbed the file. Leafing through them and muttering something to the boss. He shrugged and nodded. To their relief both sets of cuffs were removed and the pair allowed sitting next to the other. Emma’s hands being cradled by her husband. Mainly to stop them seeing how frightened they both were. A bottle of water appeared and was tossed across. Cline’s great reactions preventing it striking his wife’s face as she recoiled. The language barrier was an obvious problem. Neither of the Clines spoke Arabic and if their captors knew English then they were not letting on as they rabid on for ages. The chief was getting cross now and eventually pointed to them, then the door and Tony guessed this might mean trouble. Emma stared in shock at the gesture to stand up then put her arms behind. Slowly doing so then the officers produced their handcuffs. She made to move towards Tony for protection but a loud command made her freeze. Emma trembled as the cuffs were applied, wincing, as again they were too tight before he pointed to the door and she was led outside. Tony stood helpless as she vanished, hearing her start to cry before her footsteps had faded. A loud squeal of ‘No!’ made him glare at the boss… who drew his own pistol and cocked it! One man returned… smiling and jabbering to the boss. Who now grinned then Tony was led out, the guy surprised not to have been cuffed. To see only the jeep and their own. No sign of his wife and he turned, getting angry now. “Where is she?” he stormed. Itching to go to the police vehicle, as she must be in the blacked out back. But he was forced at gunpoint by the boss to get into the driver’s seat of their own jeep then indications were that he was to lead, the others would follow. Emma was terrified as she’d been bundled into the vehicle and made to sit on the bench. One of the men followed and Mrs Cline shook as he grabbed more cuffs and her ankles were secured together. Another set was applied to a strut below the wooden slats and it’s other loop attached to her restraints between those trembling legs. Pinning her into position. A shout to his mate getting in up front and the driver fired up the engine. She didn’t hear Tony at first then his voice, making her smile briefly before a slap wiped that off her face. Emma made to kick him, only to gasp as the cuffs did their job, digging into her skin and she yelped. A wagging finger from the smirking officer made it worse. Away they roared. Emma trying desperately to hang on, grabbing the slats as the driver tried to keep up with Tony and once more Em wished he wasn’t trying to be a rally-driver. At one point she almost slid off the bench. Only the officer’s hands grabbing her torso stopped Mrs Cline doing that. Of course it gave him an opportunity for a grope too and Emma squealed, making the Egyptians laugh. A barrage of chatter flying between them, before the driver said something in English! “We’ll see you alright Mrs… ” then laughed in a way that made the girl shiver… Emma was shocked; launching into a right rant, going on for a few minutes as the pair just grinned at her. Making Mrs Cline furious now. She threatened to tell their boss what they’d done to her while he was out of view. The one in the back stuck his face close to hers. “We haven’t done anything to you,” her captor grinned… “Yet.” She lost control now. Aiming a head-butt that only just missed as he ducked back. That was a serious miscalculation on her part. More jabbering as he leaned against the partition at the front then said something sharp to his mate. The driver stood hard on the brakes and no way could Emma Cline hold on. Launching forward she tumbled off the bench smacking headfirst into the divider. The anklecuffs digging harshly into her legs and Emma screamed. Shaking her head at the blow and falling to the floor as he accelerated again. The guy in the back moved swiftly now as she rolled about face down, unable to help herself get up. He unlocked the cuff from the strut and tugged upwards. Emma’s feet lifting before he pulled forward and bent her legs towards the wrists. Easing the loop around and relocking it in a hog-tie. Now Mrs Cline panicked before her chin was grabbed and he shoved an oily rag in there, wrapping another over the top as Emma went berserk. This was intolerable but there was precious little she could do except scream. But like Abdul it just seemed to be spurring her assailant on. He laughed to his mate, the driver turning to look and that was SO frightening as the jeep swerved and wobbled over the road. Now she quietened down, hoping this would be enough but young policeman had other ideas for pretty foreign lady. She had things he and Rasul, his mate upfront didn’t. Lifting underneath Emma’s armpits he hauled the girl up onto her knees then forced Mrs Cline back onto her haunches, facing the front away from him. NOW he could get to work. Unzipping Emma’s dress, ignoring her frantic squeals as she realised this was only the start of some serious abuse. He eased the shoulder straps down over her arms, pinning them to her torso. Revealing the lacy black bra and the twin treasures it contained. Deftly that too was undone and her perfect 36C’s were laid bare for them to ogle. The driver guffawing as his buddy placed both hands and squeezed. Emma screamed now as he manipulated them, the driver saying something to him. Pointing to the traffic that was building rapidly in front as they came down the valley into Cairo. The earlier braking had already seen Tony and the boss pulling away and it seemed these two bastards were in no rush to get to the station as he laughed in reply. Mrs Cline would later describe this as ‘Traffic Tit Torment’ as she was fondled in time to the movement of the jeep. Any left turn and that breast would be grabbed. Go right and the other would get it. Braking or acceleration would get both nipples pinched and the girl was soon in agony, not knowing they’d been past the Police station at least three times already! Eventually he tired of this and she was roughly redressed. A sigh followed by a squeal as he let go, pushing Emma forward and her body slammed into the floor, banging the side of her face as she tried to brace for the impact. She was relieved when they pulled through an armoured gate and the jeep parked up. The door opened and her tormentor undid her leg cuffs then dragged Emma out. Marching her past a bunch of his mates, playfully slapping away at least two wandering hands that reached towards her. Arriving in what she assumed was the custody area of course her first intention was looking for Tony as she was made to stand in the corner.

Emma's Entombment 5

Sun, 15 Nov 2015 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Emma’s Entombment 4)

Part 5

The words were repeated and she knew it was Tony himself. Her beloved husband… and executioner! Emma Cline turned around to see him standing there. Alone, smartly dressed in a suit. Suddenly realising he was wearing the same one used on their wedding day. Just like her bridal suit there in the wardrobe. Even the heels had been returned after she’d lost them at the courthouse. But why today? She got up from the floor, dusting down the simple black frock worn today. Coming closer then reaching nervously for him and they touched. The first physical contact she’d had with a human for a year. They finally kissed before Emma broke down, Tony the same and they held each other tight. His hands rubbing her trembling body, even brushing over her ass and he felt Emma twitch at that. Eventually they broke off and he led his wife to the bed. “You’re a day early… ” she whispered. Using her voice for the first time in a month, having started talking quietly to herself again. He looked at her calendar, seeing the 24th not yet crossed out. “No, your calendar is wrong sweetheart. It’s got a November 31st, same as mine and neither of us noticed.” Emma tensed up… “So it is today then? Happy bloody Christmas love… Have a death sentence as your pressie,” she sighed, Tony somehow managing to grin at that before she did with a resigned smile as they embraced again. “What happens now then?” Tony took a deep breath, dreading what he needed to say. “It goes like this. You and I have til 5pm in here, well to get ourselves ready, though as you can see I already am. When the bell tolls I have to place these on your wrists,” getting out a set of handcuffs. “Then once they’re on I knock on the door. We’re let out, whereupon I escort you downstairs, surprisingly we’ll be alone as the warder will be packing up the rest of… your stuff. He’s doing mine as we speak.” She nodded, shuddering, as the worst bit was to come. “Once downstairs I lead you outside to the courtyard. Two hundred feet away you’ll see… the pit… and the gallows beyond that.” Her fingers gripped tighter now. “We walk forward until our destinations are reached. You will be placed by myself into the hole. There are steps leading down so no jumping!” Emma gave him a stare for that one but he ignored it. “You’ll be secured to the pillar within it by cuffs, one for each of your limbs. I’ll blindfold you if you require it. Then sand will be thrown into the pit until it reaches your chest and levelled out… ” Emma shivered again… “Then wallop?” she asked and Tony nodded. Unable to speak now. “Well love, I hope your aim is good then… ” she tried to joke but now it was Tony who began to cry.

Emma's Entombment 5

Sun, 15 Nov 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part 4

Part 5

The Prey 3: Steel Pit

Wed, 04 Feb 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part two

Part 3: Steel Pit

Emily was covered in a mix of tight latex and heavy stainless steel. Her body was squeezed from all sides as the weight of her bondage equipment pressed against her. She was already sweating as the thick layers of latex trapped the heat from her perfect body. She could feel her pussy getting wet under the steel and rubber. She could do nothing about the sex drive filling her soul. She was ordered towards the left hand side steel lid at the end of the room. One of the guards opened the lid to Emily’s new home. It was a 6ft deep steel pit with d-rings covering the walls of the round cell. Emily’s eyes screamed through the small holes in her hood as she saw the pit.

The Prey 2: Dehumanize

Thu, 08 Jan 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part one

Part 2: Dehumanize

Emily was 61 hours into her very long prison sentence and was not in a good way. As the camera in her cell zooms slowly into her latex skunk mask, it had sweat dripping from under the hood. The guard controlling the camera was laughing away to himself at the sight of this poor latex girl. He knew she would be upgraded to maximum security in the morning. But only if she was broken in both mind and body.

Innocently Incarcerated & Transformed

Fri, 07 Mar 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Part One

Chapter 1

I could not understand how I could be on my way to a correctional facility with out a conviction or trial. But the truth is, I did not have to understand. I was taken and on the way of being transformed into a money sex machine.

As a young 22 year old I was not the picture of masculinity but, I had green eyes a very smooth skin scarce body hair and a larger then usual butt, hips and breasts which I always hid with oversize clothing. I was not gay, it just happened to be the consequences of hormones in the milk when I was growing up. I always had excuses from participating in gym activities and sports when in school because of the possibility of being exposed. I had medical treatment however the problem was only partially corrected and I was told that was as far as I was going to be helped.

Innocently Incarcerated & Transformed 2

Fri, 07 Mar 2014 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part one

Part Two

Chapter 3

I was sound asleep when something or someone was moving me around but, waking up like this I was sure I was home and wondered who and what was bothering me. As I was fighting off the intruder I received a hard stinging wack of a belt on my ass and I woke up real fast coming to realize of where I was and what was happening. He undid the belt on the leather shorts, pulled it down, pulled the plug out of my ass and slowly pushed a larger one in. This time it took a lot less time for the pain to go away and the pleasurable throbbing to start.

The Murderess 2

Tue, 26 Feb 2013 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Murderess)

8. TRANSFERED

The four important women and Lord A conferred for some time. Then he spoke:

“Good, Everything has been agreed. The convict Jane H. is transferred to my custody. She is now my slave-convict. The terms of the Agreement are these”.

He turned in his chair, grabbed the chain Sally was holding and pulled me close to him. He shoved an impressive legal document into my hands.

The Cliff and the Berry

Wed, 09 Mar 2011 00:00:00 +0000

It was a beautiful spring day; the type only seen once a year. The sun was shining it’s warmth onto the earth, and the sky was a bright, cheerful blue, with clouds slowly going through the sky, casting gentle shades upon the trees.

It was a beautiful day to be buried alive.

***

On the outskirts of a local city, there was a prison, dark and dreary in comparison to the beauty of nature. Dull grey concrete composed its foundation, housing within thousands who had been locked away from society, almost all of them political prisoners, who’s only crime had been to disagree with the government.

Reprogramming

Tue, 10 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000

“Eighteen!” You wait impatiently for the family servant to enter. Once he does, you notice that from his body language, he isn’t in a very good mood. Beneath the PVC bodysuit, his shoulders are slumped over, as his head. But with it encased inside a steel helmet, you can’t actually see his face and know what he looks like. But you, quite frankly, don’t care. You have other things to worry about. “Is my appointment for dinner set yet?” Eighteen Twenty Five (your family calls him eighteen for short), shakes his head. “You idiot!” You yell. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to reserve seats this late? Cheryl and I are never going to get there in time!” Furious, you stomp to your feet, walk over, and slam a steel paddle across his buttocks. He flinches, probably yelling, but that permanently installed gag silences him. Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, you yank his arms behind his back and cuff them in place, making sure the cuffs dig into his wrists ever so slightly. He’ll have all day to think about his impotence. “Get out of my sight.” Eighteen submissively leaves. You wonder just what the hell is wrong with him. You were looking forward to that dinner with your best friend tonight, but it appears that things are going to have to be rescheduled. Growling, you gather your car keys and lipstick. Even if Eighteen is feeling down, he doesn’t have any right to sulk. His masters expect him to carry out their every wish, no matter how he feels. Besides, whatever he did before becoming a domestic servant for life was no doubt awful. He earned this job, and he has no right to complain. Your cell phone rings. You hope its Cheryl, but groan when you see your father’s number on the display screen. “What is it daddy? I’m very busy right now.” “Samantha, where are you?!” “At home, but I’m about to go get my nails done.” “No you’re not! You need to be over here right now! The hearing is going to begin in an hour!” Confused, you glance at the calendar. Oh yes, the sentencing part of your trial is set for today. In between scheduling perm appointments, shopping sprees, and girl’s night outs, you had forgotten. But seeing it now, you groan again. No doubt that high strung judge is going to give you community service. The thought of walking around on the side of highways, getting your nails dirty is enough to give you shudders. “Can’t you pull some strings daddy? I have a lot to do today.” “Samantha McClintock!” Your father’s voice is enraged, and it’s enough to make you stop. You’ve never heard him this angry. “I’ve already pulled enough favors to make the courts as lenient as I can, and this is how you thank me? Your trial is going to end today, and you have to be here! Or God help me, I will not bail you out again! Is that understood?!” You’re strongly tempted to just blow it off, but if daddy is this angry now, how much more angry would he be if you were late? Sighing, you roll your eyes. “All right daddy. I’ll be right over.” “You’d better be.” You hang up before he can unleash another lecture about responsibility and consequences. You’re in no mood to hear any more of those. You get dressed, pulling on your fanciest, most expensive clothes, dressing up. If you’re going to be stuck in some dinky courtroom for the next few hours, you might as well make a fashion statement. No doubt bright colors and heavy makeup would go against the dress code, but you don’t care. After all, you have daddy on hand to bail you out if things get really bad. Putting on a fur coat, you call out, “Eighteen!” Eighteen walked into the room. He’s still slumped over, but there’s a hesitation in his movements. No doubt he’s afraid of whatever you’re going to be demanding of him. “I have an appointment at the courthouse,” You walk over, unlock his chains. “Drive me there.” *** The drive itself takes longer then expected, due to heavy traffic. You look at all the other cars, see that half of them are being driven by other domestic servants, all dressed in many different ways, but all wear the same helmets that completely enclose their heads, making it impossible to see who they are. You wonder if perhaps they’re driving slowly on purpose, just to irritate their masters. “Eighteen, hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Eighteen nods, tries to drive faster. But he can’t do much with the traffic as thick as it is. Glancing at your expensive wrist watch, you’re annoyed to see that you have just twenty minutes to get there, and the court is at least half an hour away. “Eighteen, I don’t care what you have to do, get us through this traffic! I don’t care if you have to drive over other people’s cars, just do it!” Eighteen hesitates. No doubt he’s fearful of what could happen if he speeds up and get caught, but you’re not in the mood to care. You have an appointment to get to, and by god, you’re going to make it. You unbuckle your seat belt and scramble to the front of the limo. “Out of the seat eighteen! You’re too slow to drive!” You barely give him enough time to unbuckle his seat belt before you shove him aside, grab the wheel, and gun the engine. The limo takes off, slamming into cars and shoving them aside. Almost immediately, horns blare, but you ignore them. More important matters are at stake! “Idiot!” You yell to one car that refuses to get out of the way. In defiance, you hit him in the trunk, finally getting enough room to squeeze past. Reaching the off ramp, you cut off a few slower drivers and press onwards, ignoring the horns and the yelled obscenities. They’re all beneath you anyway. It takes some more frantic driving, as well as a few ignored red lights, but you finally reach the court, park, and get out, straightening your coat and hat. You can’t afford to look unfashionable or dirty. That would be just wrong. “Stay here,” You tell Eighteen, locking the car. You walk to the building and head inside, ignoring the stares of the building’s occupants. All that matters right now is that damn court and getting this over with. You pull out your PDA and look at the calendar, hoping that whatever community service you’re given doesn’t interfere with all your parties and important events. You finally reach the courtroom and walk in. The judge is there, along with your parents, and a few guards. They all look unhappy to see you. Glancing at the clock, you see why. Despite your frantic driving, you’re still ten minutes late. “Sorry,” you say in your most chipper voice. “Sorry everyone. Traffic was so bad, I like, thought I would never get here!” Your father is almost red, seeing what you’re dressed in. But he can shove it for all you care. After all, he raised his voice against you! “Samantha McClintock, please step forward,” the judge says. She doesn’t sound happy. You walk out and stand before the judge, wondering how long this is going to take. “Can we hurry this up?” You ask. “I’ve got a hair appointment in an hour.” The judge glares at you. “Young lady, do you even realize the magnitude of why you’re here? You’re on your third strike.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Listen, can you go ahead and give me my community service? I’d rather not be here.” The judge pulls out a stack of papers. You groan. No doubt she’s going to try and intimidate you by reading how grave the implications of this are. “Samantha McClintock, twenty five years old, daughter of famed billionaire Jon McClintock, and already you have a long history of run ins with the law. Numerous citations of disorderly conduct, appearances in public while drunk, resisting arrest, being rude to law enforcement officials, and numerous speeding tickets.” You roll your eyes. So what if you’ve gotten into some trouble? It’s all in the name of having a good time, after all. “It appears to me that you have no respect for authority, or the law. And…Mrs. McClintock, will you please pay attention!” You glance up from your little mirror, putting away the lipstick. “Yeah, what?” “Young lady, I can have you arrested in contempt of court. Now pay attention, or I’ll put you in jail for a month, is that clear?” You roll your eyes, making sure she can see you do it. “Fine.” The judge glares at you. “It’s clear to me that, by all appearances, you’re a spoiled little brat who deserves what’s coming to her. Now, with the three strikes law in effect, I could have you put away for twenty five years to life.” “For some traffic tickets?! Come on lady!” “I am referring to your drunk driving records. You’ve injured many people, and so far your father’s lawyers have managed to keep you out of jail.” You smile. “But not this time. Now, this is your last chance, because if you get another felony or another strike, you’re going to prison for a very long time. For this period, I will give you five hundred hours of community service, to be spent picking up trash along freeways and highways. This case is…” She’s about to bring the gavel down when an officer runs in the court. “Yes?” The officer glares at you. “We’ve gotten reports that that woman’s limo sped through traffic and caused some serious injuries. And we have the video camera footage to prove it.” The judge glares at you. “Hey, like, I had to get here, otherwise I was going to be late,” you say. “So I had to speed up a bit.” The judge shakes her head. “I pity you Samantha. I think your father’s money has gone to your head. You think you can do whatever you want and get away with it. But not this time. You’ve proven that you just don’t care about society’s laws or rules. And if you will not abide by our rules, then society will kick you out. Because of the three strikes law, I hereby sentence you to life in prison with no possibility of parole.” She bangs the gavel. “This court is adjured.” Your knees buckle, and your heart stops for a few moments. Life in prison? Maybe you didn’t hear her right. Maybe your ears are clogged with wax, because there’s no way she could have just sentenced you to spend the rest of your life behind bars. The sight of the guards coming towards you, ready for a fight, only confirms that this is really happening. “Get your hands off me!” You scream, trying to knock them away. “Get off me!” But they easily overpower you, and drag you away from the podium, and towards a small door near the back, the one that guards drag defendants through when they’re heading for prison. Your parents are sobbing, both stunned at what’s just happened. You yell out at them for help, begging them to come and get you out of here. But it seems that, for once, your daddy’s deep pockets can’t help you. Then they’re gone, as you’re shoved through the door. The other side is a world you’ve never known. It’s cold and bare, with white walls and no decorations, with only the flimsiest, most bare furnishings. You can hear weeping and sobbing from behind some the doors in this hallway, but you’re too startled to really pay attention. The shock is insulating you from the reality of what’s happening, but even then, you can barely operate, and the guards have to practically drag you around. You’re taken to a side room, which one of the guards unlocks. It’s bare inside, save for a few benches and a few O rings bolted to the floor. The door is locked behind you all. “Strip down,” one of the guards says. “Excuse me? No way in hell!” You spit. “Strip down, or we will force you to.” “You can’t do anything!” You yell. “My daddy will get you all! I know my rights!” “Missy, you don’t have any rights now. And your father can’t help you. Now strip.” You spit at the guards. “Fuck you!” They come at you, start yanking your clothes off. You struggle, scream, try to bite them, even moreso when they yank off all your fancy clothes, toss your purse across the room, careless of the expensive phone and perfume inside. The beautiful shirt and dress you’ve been so proud of, is casually torn off like tissue paper, leaving you naked. “Damn you!” You scream. They take a dark blue jumpsuit and force you into it, zipping it shut. “Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” the chief guard says. “It’s your choice honey. We can use handcuffs, but if you resist, we’ll have to use tighter restraints. Even though the four of them are holding you down, you don’t give a damn about what they’re saying. You want to bite them. One of the guards leans too close, and you do exactly that. “All right, get the jacket and a muzzle,” the chief guard says. “We’ve got a biter.” A straightjacket, thick and white, is brought in. Upon seeing it, you go utterly ballistic. The cold, hard reality of your helplessness hammers home as it’s forced around your body, your arms going into the closed sleeves. Your upper body is forced up, and then your arms are grabbed and forced into a loop on your chest, then buckled down tightly behind you. You frantically struggle, thrashing your arms even as the straps are tightened down, and the crotch straps threaded through your groin. “No, no, no no!” You scream. It’s the last words you give before a muzzle is produced with a built in gag. It’s forced into your mouth, going over your tongue and to the very back of your throat. As it’s tightened around the back of your head, you try to scream, but the muzzle and gag work together to plug your mouth. Leg cuffs are latched around your ankles, so as to stop your struggles. You’re lifted to your feet and forced out of the cell, the remains of your former life lying in tatters on the floor. You struggle against the jacket, fighting it, but it mercilessly holds you, containing your body effortlessly. You can barely walk as it is. When you reach the end of the hallway, the double doors are opened, and a large prison van is waiting, other restrained prisoners being put on board. “No!” You try to scream. “No, this isn’t fair! This isn’t fair!” Nobody can hear you. And they wouldn’t care if they could. You’re marched up to the bus, then put onboard, forced into a seat, and chains shackle you to the floor of the bus. The bus drives away from the court, taking you away. *** The ride to prison is the most terrifying ride you’ve ever taken. You’re trapped in your seat, unable to move, unable to have any say in what’s happening. You can’t even talk. You no longer struggle against the hold of the jacket and the cuffs. You’re too emotionally drained to do so. The scenery outside the windows change from the towers of the city, to the houses of the suburbs, and then the hills and flat plains of the desert. The heat inside the bus begins to rise, and your thick jacket doesn’t make things any easier. You want to ask for water, for anything to quench your rising thirst, but you can only mumble with the thick gag. The bus turns a corner, and you see your new home…a giant, concrete prison that stands in the center of the desert. It looks like hell on earth. You sweat, shaking as the bus passes through the multiple gates, before being swallowed up into the complex. As the bus comes to a stop, guards file into the bus, unlatching your fellow prisoners from the seats and escorting them off. You’re the last one. When they unlatch the chains holding you to the floor, you try to kick them. While emotionally drained, you’re still angry enough to fight, no matter how useless it is. The guards don’t take kindly to that. You can’t hit them, considering that your ankles are shackled together, and to punish you, they handle you roughly as you’re forced off the bus. Entering through several checkpoints, you hear distant shouts and yells. The air reeks of despair and helplessness. Ahead of you, the other prisoners are being sent through X-rays, strip searched, and then being issued prison uniforms. The thought of being stripped naked and having a complete stranger grope your most private parts makes you shudder with disgust. But after you pass through the X-ray, the guards direct you away from the others and through a side door. Despite your fear, your pounding heart slows. You’re curious about what’s happening. You’re taken into what looks like an operating room. And before you can try to figure out what’s going on, your gag and muzzle is removed, only to be immediately replaced with a clear mask held over your mouth and nose. “What are you doing you bastards?!” You yell. “Watch it, she’s a bitter,” A guard says. “Turn up the gas.” “Let me go! Let me…go…le…” Your protests are silenced as a sudden, unstoppable fatigue slips over you. Legs buckling, you helplessly fall to the floor, unable to stand. You hit hard, unable to use your arms to stop your fall. It hurts, but the pain quickly vanishes as you’re overcome with darkness and silence. *** When you wake, things are different. Blinking, you look around. You’re in a cell. Your jumpsuit is gone, as is your straitjacket. For that alone, you’re relieved. In their place are cuffs around your ankles, a belt around your waist, with your cuffed hands locked to them. Thankfully, you’re not naked, nor are there any signs that you’ve been taken advantage of. You’re wearing a skin tight body suit, but the fabric is unfamiliar to you. It’s like spandex, only heavier, yet tighter. You try to stand. With your arms restrained, it’s difficult. As you try to rise, a pounding headache slams into you. There’s a mirror on one side of the wall. Glancing at it, you see a bandage on your head, which no longer has any hair. “My hair!” You shriek. You beautiful, beautiful hair, which you’ve spent hours keeping clean and pretty (thanks to hundreds of dollars from daddy’s pocket), is now gone. “You bastards! What did you do to my hair!” “Shut up lady!” An unseen voice says. “No! I won’t! Why did you take my hair?!” A bored guard comes up to the door of your cell. “Because you’re not supposed to have any. Now shut up, or I’ll have you gagged and jacketed again, only the jacket’s twice as tight as before.” “You can’t do that!” He smiles. “Lady, you got no rights no more. I can do anything I want to you, and nobody’s going to care. I could put you in solitary, blindfolded, for ten years, and nobody would question it. You want that?” You go silent. “Didn’t think so. Now shut your pot hole, and stay quiet.” He walks away, leaving you in your cell. The next several hours go by torturously slow. With no clock to tell you the time, and no windows to hint where the sun is, you’re stuck in the room with nothing to do, and with no idea on how you can possibly adapt to this. Lying on your bunk, you try to think back to what you know about prison. Given your privileged upbringing, it’s not much. You know that since the crime waves the mid century, the system in place is harsher on those who commit crimes. Parole is virtually unheard of. Prisoners spend almost all of their time in restraints while behind bars. A few end up as indentured servants for life, like eighteen at home. Looking down at your shackles, you’re terrified at the idea of wearing them for the rest of your life. But then again, is that really going to happen? Your daddy is surely doing everything he can to get you out. His billions will get you out of here, and you can go home, and forget about this horrible place. But what if that doesn’t work? The thought is only brief, but horrifying. If daddy can’t get you out of here, then you really will be stuck here…for life. Life…to stay here for the rest of your life until you die. The thought terrifies you. *** Time passes slowly. You sleep a few times, but for the most part, you have no idea how long you stay in the cell. It could be several hours, or several days. Others are brought in, getting their own cells across the hall from you, and like you, they’re dressed in the bodysuits, and chained up in a similar fashion. It appears that for whatever reason, whoever is in charge is waiting until there are a sufficient number of you before moving on. Finally, after one last individual is brought in, guards enter the hall, three to each door. You watch as the cell door slides open, but you don’t try to fight. The restraints alone that make impossible, but you can’t fight your way past three guards. So, biting your lip you let them grab your shoulders and march you out of the cell. You’re marched down the hall and out, into what appears to be a classroom…only this room has desks that are bolted to the floor, and there are no decorations, only harsh lights hanging from the ceiling. You’re taken to a desk, where several belts are strapped across your body, lashing you to the chair. You bite your lip as the belts are tightened, vowing that no matter what it takes, you’ll make these guards pay for this indignity. When you’re lashed down, as are your fellow inmates, the guards go the side of the room and wait. The door opens a short time later, and a man walks in. He’s dressed in a fancy uniform, and regards all of you. You can’t help but notice that he’s carrying a briefcase at his side. “I am the warden of this facility,” he says. “And I’m here to tell you that you are all no longer people. You are criminals, the scum and trash of society.” He puts the briefcase on the desk. “You are all here because of your criminal actions, and all of you have been given life sentences. But because our prison system is ever evolving, and ever adapting to protect the citizens of this country from the filth in the streets, you are all the latest volunteers for an experiment.” “You might as well not even bother,” you say. The warden looks at you. “And why is that?” “Because whatever it is, my father’s going to find out about it, and he’ll take care of you.” The threat however, doesn’t intimidate the warden. To your amazement, he actually smiles. “A little daddy’s girl, aren’t we? Missy, your father can’t help you anymore. You’re never going to see him again. You’re here for life, and there is no escaping it. So just accept it.” “Accept it? Accept it?! I’m only twenty five! I can’t be here for life! That’s unfair!” “Society putting up with you for as long as it did is unfair.” “You bastard! I won’t…” “You won’t do a thing, except comply with our orders. Do so, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and you will be punished.” He opens the briefcase. “When you were all brought here, you were put under using anesthesia. The next thing you knew, you woke up in your cells. During that time you were asleep, our surgical team here did a minor operation on your brain, and implanted a small stimulator deep inside it.” He holds up a remote control. “Normally, each device is controlled separately, but they can also be linked together, so that one remote can control several at once. These implants control both the pleasure…” He presses a button, and you suddenly feel euphoric. Pleasure flows through you, overtaking every essence of your being, making you moan involuntarily, shaking and shuddering against your restraints, your body going out of control. Then, a second later, it stops. You go still, immediately disappointed, wanting the pleasure to come back. “And the pain receptors of your brain.” The man presses another button on the remote, and a second later your body suddenly goes taut with pain. Your nerves scream as fire seems to sear them, and it feels like knives begin jabbing you. You scream, thrashing in your restraints, your voice joining the howls of the others as they writhe in agony. A moment later, and it stops. Panting, wheezing, you look up at the warden, and the remote he’s holding. “We have learned that no matter how hard we try, we cannot create a system that rehabilitates all people. But we did discover that we can modify an individual via pleasure and pain, the two most basic senses of the human mind. The concept is very simple. You do as you are told, and you will be rewarded.” He presses a green button, and the wonderful feeling of euphoria comes back. But it only lasts for a moment, before the high wears off, and you’re left in your chair, feeling horribly neutral. “Disobey, and you will be punished.” He touches the red button ever so slightly, and a jolt of pain goes through you. But it’s over before you can even flinch. “This system works on everyone, no matter their deposition, personality, or individual willpower. Drug dealers, murderers, child rapists, all are helpless before the powers of bliss and despair. They can fight, and hold off as long as they can, but it is inevitable that they eventually become putty that we can shape as we please.” He looks at all of you. “While you all will serve out your life sentences here, you will do so as part of this program, for we want to see exactly how far we can go with it. Just how much can we do when reprogramming someone? We will find out with all of you. Some of you will be programmed to act like dogs. Others will be trained to enjoy being used as a punching bag. Others…” He looks right at you. “Will be programmed to accept staying locked up and isolated with no human contact, where even the slightest whimper will bring pain.” “Bullshit!” You cry out. “That’s bullshit! This is evil! You’re evil!” “My, my, you’re a feisty one. But all animals can be tamed, even the brats and brutes of the world.” “I’m not an animal! I’m not!” “Your behavior suggests otherwise.” “Damn you! Damn…” He holds up the controller and presses the red button. Pain surges through you. You scream and thrash, trying to escape it, but there is no escape. The burning hot pain claws and rips into every inch of your body. It lasts for thirty agonizing seconds. When it finally subsides, you collapse into the restraints, unable to hold yourself up. You can’t even look up as the man looks to the other inmates. “A prime example of what you will all go through. You will all know pain and pleasure as we program you. Obey the rules, follow orders, and you will know pleasure. Those who resist, and who break the rules…Well, you’re only just hurting yourself.” You can barely look up at him as the man puts the remote back in the briefcase. “Prepare them.” *** No sooner does the warden leave then you start to fight, struggling as the guards undo the belts holding you down. With the cuffs, you can’t do anything, but you still struggle, refusing to accept your fate. The idea of what they’re going to do with you is too terrifying, too horrible to think. Reprogramming? They’re going to warp your mind, turn you into a zombie. You wail as they drag you out of the room. You’re taken, along with all the others, to what looks like a large surgical room with dozens of tables. Upon each table is a black leather sleep sack with many belts, straps, and buckles. You realize what’s going to happen, but there’s nothing you can do about it. The guards take you to one of the tables and pick you up, forcing you down onto it, and holding you there as they take the sleep sack and unfold it. The inside has internal sleeves for your arms and legs, meaning that once you’re in it, and it’s closed, you’ll be completely helpless and at their mercy. “No!” You scream as your ankles are released from the cuffs, and then forced into the sack. “No, no, no!” With your legs in place, the guards go for your wrists. They’re unlocked from the cuffs, and the belt taken off your waist. Before you can punch them, or rake their faces, they grab hold of your arms. Even with adrenaline flowing through you, you can’t resist them as they force your arms down, and slid them into the sleeves of the sack. You can only watch as they pull the zipper down the length of the sack, closing it, and tightening it around your body. When it’s put in place at your throat, the guards then take the straps sewn into the sack and buckle them together, cinching them down, and tightening the sack even further, compressing it around you. “No! Let me out!” You struggle and squirm, but the sack holds you tightly, refusing to give. “Let me go!” Your yells are met by the guards smug grins, and the weeping and sobbing of your fellow lifers. You look down at yourself and continue to struggle, unable to believe that this is happening, that your body is locked inside this sleep sack, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing you can do to get out. You’re so focused on the sack that you don’t see the guards pulling out a thick muzzle, and a matching hood. “Wait.” You turn at hearing the voice. It’s the warden, and he walks up to you. His eyes drift over your tightly restrained form, admiring your helplessness, the fact that he can do whatever he wants, and you’re helpless to stop him. “I’d like to talk this one before you do that.” Only then do you look up and see the hood and muzzle, your heart skipping a beat. How much worse can this possibly get? “You know, eventually, after we train you all to do what we want, you’ll eventually be shipped off to brothels,” the warden says. “A far better way to serve society as part of your punishment. Now, you’ll be going there as well, but first, you’re going to do something for me.” “Screw you!” You shout. The main raises the remote, and your anger is tempered by fear. “You’re learning quickly,” he says. “Now, I can’t stand rich, spoiled brats like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, and I think that earns you some extra punishment on top of your sentence. But then again, I’m something of a gambling man. I like wagers, so I’d like to offer you one.” You glare at him. “I’ll make you a deal. I have a cell phone with me that I can use to call your father. If you can convince him to pull some strings, then you’ll go to the brothel for the rest of your life, like all the rest.” “Why the hell would I want to do that?” “Because if he doesn’t help you, I transfer you to the private cell block, where special inmates are kept. You’ll be trained to be my little love toy, programmed to accept whatever I put into you without hesitation…as well as being kept in isolation for weeks, if not months, or even years at a time, with virtually no human contact.” He smiles as he rubs the remote. “Such a delicious idea, no? Of course, you’d be sent to the brothels eventually, after I program you to be totally docile and obedient.” He takes out the phone. “Now, what’s your daddy’s number?” It’s an impossible choice. The consequences of what happens if your father refuses to help are too severe to contemplate. That, and knowing that if you refuse, the warden can just take you to the private block anyway means you’re in a loose - loose situation. There really is no choice. You tell him the number. And as he dials, you try to keep up a brave face, but inside, you’re squirming. After all, Daddy loves you. He’ll get you out of this. He’s always stepped in to get you out of a tight spot. There’s no reason to believe he won’t do the same here. With the numbers dialed, the warden holds the phone up to your ear. As it rings, you look over, see your fellow lifers getting the hoods and muzzled strapped on, then carried away to god knows where. Your stomach turns. The phone clicks as it’s picked up. “Hello?” Hope surges through you. “Daddy! It’s me!” There’s no reply. “Daddy? It’s me!” This time there’s a reply, but it’s slow and cautious. “Samantha?” “Daddy, I need your help! These people, they’re doing terrible things to me! You have to get me out of here!” Your daddy waits for several seconds before replying. “Samantha, I’m not helping you.” It’s a moment before you can speak. “What?” “Samantha, you’ve always counted on me to bail you out. But I won’t. Not this time.” “Daddy…” “I won’t bail you out. Do you really think you can get away with this?” “But you have money! You can make it work!” “Money can’t buy anything. I wish it brought me a daughter who wasn’t a spoiled brat.” Your mouth goes dry as you stare at the phone, suddenly unable to speak. “I’m done with you Samantha. I’m so sick and tired of you relying on me for everything. I’m done. Accept your punishment and be a woman, not a crybaby.” He pauses. “I love you Samantha, but I won’t help you. Goodbye.” The line goes dead. You stare at the phone for the longest time, before the warden pulls it away. “Too bad,” he says. “Looks like I win the bet.” He leans in closely. “Your daddy has abandoned you. He’s gone. He’s never coming back. And you’re now alone, in a world that doesn’t care about you.” The guards move towards you with the hood and the muzzle. “Your old life is gone. The rich, spoiled brat is no more. Now you’re nothing.” He presses a finger onto your sack. “You’re mine.” Turning, the warden walks away. “Take her to the private block when you’re done,” he tells the guards. “I’m going to start training her tonight.” You can only stare numbly at the ceiling. You don’t resist as the guards take the muzzle and force it into your mouth, then buckle it behind your head, silencing you. This is the rest of your life. In this sack, in a cell, in a brothel. No more parties. No more fine food and restaurants. No more clothes shopping, no nail polish or fancy fell phones. The only thing you have to look forward to now is constant confinement and restraint, bare cells and bars, and the knowledge that you will never, ever be released. This is a life sentence. As the hood is brought over your head, you sob. Then the hood is on, and is locked in place. And everything is dark.

The Rehab Center 2: Initial Training

Sun, 20 Sep 2009 00:00:00 +0000

continued from chapter 1

Chapter 2: Initial Training

Trustee leads me out into a long hall. These are the stacks, tiers of cells line the walk. She leads me down the long corridor. I see nothing but what is in my view. I hear loud muffled noises as I walk but no discernable words reach me.

“The residents are welcoming you! You are the first in many months,” Trustee says.

I wonder again how long I am remaining in this restrictive and obviously temporary bondage system.

Rubber Pony Prison

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter One

At first it was with some relief that Pamela had heard that she would serve her sentence as a rubber pony. The sentence was slavery, of course, but at least the friends she once had, and her family would not actually be able to recognize her amidst the herd of rubber ponies serving out their time on the streets of the city.

The changes that had swept the world since her birth had brought about a world that would have once been called “Medieval”, technologically. The laboratory engineered organism which had been created to absorb oil spills at sea succeeded beyond anyone’s wildest imaginings or fears. Within a few months the organism had spread far beyond the test sites and began to consume all the petroleum on Earth–either in the tank or in the ground. Within a year, the entire world economy was in such a state of collapse that slavery again appeared worldwide in response to the world wide evaporation of assets. Millions, even billions of people on the planet now found themselves forced to sell themselves or families into slavery to keep alive. Millions more found themselves ordered into slavery in response to crimes that once would have required mere fines or community service.

The Rehab Center 1: Reception

Wed, 03 Jun 2009 00:00:00 +0000

Prologue:

“Sentence to commence immediately. These proceedings are closed.” The gavel rang down with a loud thwack.

“All rise,” called the bailiff as the judge stood from his seat at the bench and went off to his chambers.

I stood there…lost for any words or thoughts. The Public Defender stood there. Finally he turned to me.

“We can appeal this. I’ll get started on it straight away.”

“I don’t get it,” I mumbled. “I didn’t do anything. The charges of insurrection are so absurd.”

The Long Way Down

Mon, 23 Feb 2009 00:00:00 +0000

Dedicated to those who like secure straitjackets and powerful women. Derivative works and sequels are welcomed, but please acknowledge this work.

Part One

As soon as I dive through the door, I realize something is wrong.

Certainly, many things are right and familiar. There is the exhilarating feeling of weightlessness, the whipping of the jumpsuit, and the roar of the wind.

And then, there is the afternoon sun glistening off the distant desert lake. But this beautiful sight is part of the problem.

Red Casket

Fri, 24 Aug 2007 00:00:00 +0000

When a modern day trial is completed, one of two things happen. If the defendant has been found innocent, then he or she is free to go, walking out of the courthouse in the clothes they came in. If the defendant is found guilty however…then their ordeal in the justice system is just beginning. They are taken from the courtroom into the basement and changed into their new outfits…orange one piece jumpsuits, along with their new jewelry, so to speak. That of course, being handcuffs and leg irons.

DP

Thu, 10 May 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Authors note: This story is based on the story “PS” by RubberH, where a woman, in the distant future is sentenced to spend a year encased in rubber in public. This story is set in the same universe, just slightly before the events of that story.

I wonder if this time I’ll still remember what grass looks like…

…

I suppose my life’s story isn’t all that important. Those of us who end up in my situation really don’t exist anymore. All that someone would need to know is that when I was a young man, I was warned early on in school about the dangers of turning to a life of crime.

A Change of Clothes