INCARCERATED   By Rod

    The following tale is partially based on an actual experience with incarceration and bondage 
butall of the tale should be considered fiction including persons, places and events.
Chapter One
     It was hard for me to realise that I was actually on my way towards a period of
incarceration in which I would have essentially no control over what happened to me and during
which I would be subjected to many forms of restraint.
     Through the Internet I had learned about this group who had developed the facilities and
staff to provide such an experience.  As I reviewed the information available, the more intrigued I
became.  I saw it as a way of better understanding myself, my limits and my fascination with the
world of bandage and control.
     As a 34 year old, quite successful business woman, I had been leading a fast, very active
life filled with meetings, planning and research in the field of pharmaceuticals.  I was accustomed
to more or less being in charge and was responsible for a major division of the company in which 
I
was employed.  My degrees in chemistry and medical sciences coupled with an apparent ability to
organise the activity of my staff had led to a rather rapid advancement up the ranks.  However,
this life had also been a major factor in the failure of my marriage.
     Somewhere along the line, I had become interested in bondage but this mainly took the
form of fantasy.  Yes, I owned some handcuffs and had played around a little with self-bondage. 
My former mate was never interested or co-operative so I was forced to rely on books, stories and
occasional videos.
     I have always prided myself on keeping up a healthy body and was blessed with a good
figure, thanks partially to regular workouts at a local athletic club, fitted into my busy schedule. 
Although I occasionally dated, it was mainly with people I met in my business and I guess I did
not feel I had the time to enter a more serious relationship.  In fact there were many who
considered me cold and calculating, and some who were itching for me to disappear so that they
could step into my position in the organisation.
     In any case, after learning about the "Special School" I had contacted them and inquired
about what was involved, cost, etc.  In time I had received a rather detailed questionnaire about
my health, background, interests and what, if any, limits I wanted placed on the instructors, many
of whom were officers in correctional facilities, police officers, etc.  Of particular interest was a
section on restraints. 
     "The applicant would be most effectively restrained by (choose any or all of the
following):
          Total immobilisation, moderate to limited immobilisation, authentic police
restraints (Handcuffs, leg irons, etc.), medieval restraints, customised restraints (box, chair, etc.),
duct tape, rope, leather, cages, masks, and mitts.
     "Inmate should be restrained in one position for (choose any or all):
          Less than an hour, up to one hour, 1-4 hours, 4-8 hours, overnight."
     
      I had encircled all the possibilities and answered the questions carefully, well aware that
while doing so my heart rate was up and my face felt flushed as I projected myself into the
situation.  Regarding the "limits", I decided that I would and could accept practically anything
necessary to make me "obey".
     Knowing that the school frequently used police arrest, abduction, interrogation, etc., I
suggested that they consider a little plot in which a competitor was "paying" for me to be falsely
arrested and confined to a "private" facility so that information about a new epilepsy drug could
be extracted from me.  The competitor had heard an unfounded rumour that we were developing
this drug which would be a major threat to their business.  Since the rumour was false, I would
have no knowledge of any such drug.
     After several conversations with the director of the "School", dates and fees had been set
and here I was, flying south to a major airport.  As far as my company was concerned, my
secretary had sent in an application for a week's vacation and subsequently told me that my
immediate supervisor had granted it.
     I was met by the director himself.  Chet turned out to be a man in his forties and was very
business-like in his approach.  On the drive into the suburbs, he reviewed my application,
questionnaire and other correspondence.  He reassured me that if, during the 48 hours I was
going to spend at the facility, I should find the going too difficult, I should ask to speak to the
"Director" and adjustments would be made.  Also, there would be no severe beatings, no
permanent physical harm and no sexual intercourse.
     I found myself getting quite excited, my mouth a little dry and my palms a little cool.  I did
manage a few questions but basically just listened to him explain that the school had been visited
my many prominent people and was steadily enlarging.  The interests of those coming for the
experience were varied and I was not unusual.  This made me feel a little better, although I was
having some second thoughts about what I was getting into.
     Finally on a little wooden lane off one of the streets, he stopped the car and presented me
with another form.
     Chet explained, "This is standard "Release of Responsibility" document which I would like
you to carefully read.  If you agree, please sign it.  If you don't, I'll be glad to make arrangements
for you to stay to a nice hotel until you are scheduled to fly home."
     I tried to read the document.  It did appear to contain the usual words and since I was
finding it difficult to remain calm and rational, I just went ahead and signed it.
     "Good.  Now I want you to remain here in the car.  I am going to leave you but will not
be far away at any time.  Have fun."  With this, he walked up the road and then took a path off to
one side, disappearing into the woods.
Chapter Two
     Minutes passed slowly as I tried to figure out what was happening.  Then I heard a car
approaching from the rear.  I turned and saw that it was a typical black and white police car.  It
stopped and two uniformed officers, a male and a female, got out and cautiously approached.
     "You in the car.  Place your hands on the wheel where we can see them, and look straight
ahead," came a commanding voice from the man as I tried to figure out whether this was for real
or part of the "school".  In any case I complied with the order.
     "Good.  Now, I want you to use your right hand to slowly open the door.  Don't look at
me and don't look at my partner who is covering you with her gun."
     As I gradually opened the door, I involuntarily glanced to my left and stared at a large
bore revolver in the hands of a large, somewhat muscular yet still attractive woman.  The next
thing I knew, the male officer had grasped my right arm and was hauling me out of my seat and
pushing my face and body into the side of the car.
     "Can't you understand English.  I said DON'T LOOK AT MY PARTNER.  Now place
your hands on the top of the car and spread your legs apart.  Look straight ahead."
     His roughness was leaving me very confused.  I still didn't know whether they were local
police officers.
     "What is your name and what are doing here?" he asked.
     I replied, "Jennie Foster and I am supposed to be attending a school or training facility ."
     "Well, you are in a private area that has no schools.  You are obviously trespassing.  So,
not one more word out of you.  Step back a little from the car, keeping your hands spread on the
roof, and spread your legs further apart.  Even further," as I felt a swat on my rump.  "Now stay
that way while my partner checks you."
     The next thing I felt was her hands running over my back, my buttocks and down my
thighs and legs.  Then she started down my chest, taking her time feeling my breasts, then my
belly and then my crotch.  I reacted by pushing down on her hand with one of mine and was
immediately rewarded by having each officer grab a hand and force them up between my shoulder
blades, pushing me against the side of the car.
     "Oh, you are going to resist arrest, huh.  Well, we will see about that.  Cuff her."  Almost
immediately, I felt the steel cuffs closing tightly around each wrist, still high on my back.
     "Wait a minute," I said.  "Who are you and what have I done?  I have rights, you know."
     "Shut up.  At this moment we are your worst enemy.  You have no rights."
     "Well this is America and I demand to know what is happening.  Either I get answers or I
start screaming 'police brutality'," I continued.
     With that, he pushed the cuffs up higher on my back so that they were cutting into me.  I
went up on tiptoes in the hope of relieving the pain and let out a loud "Ouch".
     "Get some transportation chains and something to keep her quiet," he said to his partner. 
On her return, she placed cuffs around each ankle and then I felt a chain encircling my waist.  As
she closed and locked this, he lowered my wrists so that they were bound to my back by the
chain.  His other hand grabbed my hair and pulled my head back so I was looking upwards. Then
I heard her rip something.  This turned out to be a piece of duct tape which she firmly placed
across my mouth.  The piece was followed by two others.  Try as I might I could not now open
my mouth but I did manage a few moans of protest.
     "Tape her eyes while you're at it."
     I tried to get out a "No" but the sound was unintelligible as the fourth piece of tape
blocked out all light.  I tried to imagine what it was going to feel like when they took the tape off.
They left me standing there for a few minutes and I could barely hear them talking some distance
away.  
     Then the female officer said to me as she grabbed my arm, "Okay, come with me," and
began leading me in the direction of the patrol car.  On my first step I stumbled as I found my
pace limited by the short chain connecting my ankles.  "Clumsy, aren't you?"  When we reached
her car she turned me and I heard the door open.  She pushed my head down and shoved me.  I
sort of fell inside and with difficulty sat back as she lifted my feet in and closed the door.  The car
was very hot from sitting in the sun and almost immediately I began sweating.
     For a while nothing happened.  I tried to find a comfortable position but it was difficult to
lean back, the handcuffs cutting into my wrists if I wasn't careful.  I sat there coming to grips with
what was going on.  They obviously were from the school.  In a way, this was what I had asked
for.  There was nothing I could do for I was now powerless and at their mercy.  When she got in
the front seat and started the car, I moaned and tried to get her attention.
     "Oh shut up.  Yes it is hot back there but that's just too bad.  Sorry but the air
conditioning doesn't reach the back seat."  With that she started driving and this continued for
what seemed like a half hour.  Just before we stopped it sounded as if we had entered some type
of garage.  Bathed in sweat I was pulled from the car and made to stand while she peeled the tape
off my face rather roughly.
     "Ouch, please be careful.  Where are we?"
     Her response was, "I give the orders here and I told you to shut up."  She unlocked a door
leading from the garage and made me march in front of her into the next room while she locked
the door behind.  The cement walls of the large, practically empty room were painted white. 
There were no windows.  Each of the doors leading from the room were labeled.  "Cell Block
One", "Treatment and Interrogation Room", etc.
     "Now stand still while I get these chains off."  With relief, I rubbed my wrists as she
placed a cardboard box in front of me.  "Now take off all your clothes,  put them in the box and
make it snappy."
     "What happens if a man walks in?" I asked.
     Her response was to walk very close to me and just stare into my face.  "I see you just
don't know how to take orders.  Well, you will learn and very quickly or else you will be very
sorry.  My name is Hilda.  You will address me as "Ma'am" when and if I give you permission to
speak or ask you a direct question.  Now strip completely or I'll do it for you."
     I quickly started peeling off my sweaty blouse and skirt followed by my bra and briefs,
slipping off my shoes as well.  Not used to being nude in front of even another woman, I tried to
cover my breast with one hand and my crotch with the other.
     "No, extend your arms out in front of you and spread your feet a foot apart."  She walked
in front of me and pulled off my one ring followed by my simple gold bracelet, throwing them into
the box.  "Take off your earrings and get rid of any pins and such in your hair.  Good, now arms
in front again and keep them up."  She then started to carefully examine my clothing, checking the
pockets, hems and anywhere else I might have hidden anything.  Next, she ran her hands through
my hair and again swept her hands over my body.  My breasts received more attention including a
little teasing of my nipples which immediately became erect and hard, producing a little smirk on
her face.
     "Now bend over and grab your ankles."  From a cabinet, she took a disposable glove and
pulled it on her right hand.  "Don't move an inch."  She walked behind me and I felt her fingers
searching for my vaginal orifice, then a finger entered me and moved around.  "You know some
of our prisoners have tried to hide things in there.  Oh you are getting wet aren't you?"
     "Yes, ma'am., and I would rather....OUCH".  Her finger was thrust into my anus and I
lurched away from her.
     "Guess, I didn't get my finger lubricated enough.  Now stand up and follow me."  She
unlocked and led me through the door to the cell block.  The corridor led ahead down along some
barred cells but she made me turn right into a shower area.  I was given some soap and she 
placed
a towel in front of the stall.  "Don't move."  From a cabinet she took a container of a type of
powder and proceeded to shake some into my hair.  "This is to make sure you don't have lice. 
Put out your hand so you can rub the powder on your pubic hair as well.  Good, now take a
thorough shower.  Don't get out until I tell you."  With that she left me, locking the door behind
me.
     I turned the water on and tried to adjust the temperature but twisting the knob only
changed the stream from frigid to very slightly warm.  Oh well, after being so hot it still felt good
and it was great to wash my crotch and anal regions.  But soon, I found myself getting chilly.  The
hell with her, I thought, turning off the water.  I'll stay in the stall and make like I didn't
understand.  I was still drying myself off when she returned, carrying a bright orange coverall.
     "Did I tell you to stop showering?  Well at least you smell cleaner.  Try this on for size."
     I stepped into the legs and drew the upper part up so I could insert my arms.   It fitted
well over my ass but was tight over my rather full breasts so I couldn't button it up completely.  I
said, "Ma'am, it is a little small."
     "Well, my partner will think it's just right," she replied.  "Now follow me."  She led me
through the outer room and into an 'office' where she had me stand in front of a desk.  Sitting
down, she asked me questions about name, age, height, weight, any previous arrests and health.
"Any birthmarks, tattoos or scars?"
     "Just an appendectomy scar, ma'am."
     "I don't see one."
     "The surgeon made the incision down near my hair line so it wouldn't show, ma'am."
     "Probably because you are a rich bitch.  Now your number here is 59562.  Repeat it five
times to me," which I did. "See those letters and numbers in that box in front of you.  Find those
that spell out your last name and initials as well as your number, placing them in the grooves in
this board."  After I had done this, she hung the board around my neck. "Now move to your right
and face that camera."  She proceeded to take my picture, had me turn to present my profile and
took another picture with the Polaroid camera.  Next she fingerprinted me using an official
looking form.  "Consider yourself admitted to our facility."  She gave me a warm smile and shook
my hand.  My reaction was to relax for she seemed to have departed from her 'role'.
     "Wow, Hilda.  That sure was real."
     "What did you say, rich bitch?"  Her smile was gone.  "Put out your hands immediately." 
Within seconds the cuffs were back on me.  "Now march.  Stop at the cell block door."  This she
unlocked and opened.  "Now straight ahead.  Stop and turn right."  I was staring at the door to
the first cell.  She used another key and slid the heavy barred door open.  I was pushed inside and
could see two bunks on the right, one over the other. The thin mattress, covered with vinyl, was
folded back.  A single sheet, a blanket and a vinyl covered pillow were stacked on the heavy wire
platform that made up the 'springs'.  The only other furniture was a block toilet with a little steel
basin.  On the panel above was a button to flush the toilet and one to produce a short stream of
cold water from the faucet above the basin.  The temperature of the room was definitely 
     "Make up the lower bunk.  And I want 'hospital' corners on the blanket with no
wrinkles."  With that she slammed the cell door closed, locked it, left the cell block and locked
that door as well.
     Her being nice sure didn't last long, I thought.  In a way it was rather fun trying to make
up the bunk with my hands cuffed together and sort of exciting being bound this way.  I was glad
she hadn't assigned the upper bunk to me for it wasn't clear how I could climb up to that height. 
After the blanket was carefully stretched and tucked in, I wondered what would happen next.
Chapter Three
     Slowly I realized that I was having a difficult time going from being very stimulated,
excited and somewhat afraid to being bored.  There was almost nothing to do.  I was locked in a
cell, there were no magazines, books, writing materials, radio, TV, windows or anything else.  I
decided to examine the door mechanism and lock.  Perhaps I could find a way to open it. 
Wouldn't that be a scream but then how would I get out of the cell block.  Maybe I could over
power Hilda or whatever her name was.  That would be good for a laugh.  Besides, what could
they really do to me.  But I guessed I had better play it 'cool' until I understood the program a
little better.
     In any case, my bladder was rather full so I decided to try the toilet.  Next question...how
did I do this wearing my orange coverall and handcuffs.  I unbuttoned the front but this alone
didn't allow me to bare my rump.  So I worked the shirt part off my shoulders and let it slide
down to the handcuffs.  Then I slid the garment around, finally being able to sit with my bare
buttocks on the toilet.  As I sat there pissing, I looked up and saw video or monitoring cameras in
two of the corners, pointing into the cell.  I wondered who if any one was looking at a screen
somewhere.  Oh well.  Finishing, I tried to figure out how to use a piece of toilet paper and then
gave up.
     Hungry, a little tired and a little chilly I finally lay down on the bunk and must have
snoozed off.
     I was awakened by the sound of the cell block door opening.  Hilda came in carrying a
tray and I immediately got to my feet.
     "Back away from the door and face the toilet," she ordered as she unlocked and entered
the cell.  "Here is you dinner.  Eat it all, wash the foil and plastic utensils and arrange them neatly
near the cell door.  And don't take all day."  With that she left.
     The dinner was on a cardboard tray with the items rapped in foil.  I was famished and the
food was actually very good.  Slices of pork, dressing, cauliflower, a roll, two cookies and a glass
of coke.  It was fun eating with the handcuffs on.  As I washed things up I wondered what time it
was.  It could be late afternoon or early evening I guessed.  After again using the toilet, I sat on
the end of my bunk, back against the cement block wall, wrapped in a blanket I had 'borrowed'
from the top bunk to keep warm and tried to figure out the size of my cell.
     It appeared to be about 7 X 7 feet.  Two of the walls were of the cement blocks and the
other two were bars.  The gap between the bars was about four inches.  There 21 bars in the side
along my bunk, and the same number on the side with the sliding door.  I guessed the ceiling was
at least 11 feet high and appeared to consist of a cement slab.  The lights were recessed, covered
with thick glass and were not particularly bright.  Air-conditioning was keeping the cell block on
the chilly side.
     My thoughts were interrupted by hearing the lock turning and door opening.  As I got my
bare feet down on the floor I realized that it was the male officer who was coming in.  He still was
wearing his gray trousers with the black side stripes but now had on a black tee shirt with the
letters "Police Academy".  The shirt bulged over his very muscular torso and his hair was cut
short.
     "Where's Hilda and what time is it?" I asked.
     "You haven't learned anything, have you?" he replied.  "You don't speak until
commanded.  You don't have to know where Hilda is and time is of no importance to you.  Now
back away from the cell door and face the toilet.  Didn't she teach you that?  Or are you just to
stupid to learn.  My name is Barry and you address me as 'Sir'.  Got that?"
     "Yes, sir," I replied.  I heard him pick up and carry out the tray.
     "I'm leaving the plastic glass so you can have a drink later.  You will probably be thirsty. 
Now spread your legs, bend forward and put your wrists between your knees."  As I obeyed I
looked down to see him pass a loop of rope around my cuffed wrists.  He then hauled the loop
back, forcing my wrists back between my buttocks.  I nearly tipped forward and went up on
tiptoes to relieve the pressure.
     "Stop, you're hurting me.  Please, Sir."
     "You haven't felt anything yet," he said as he used a loose end of the rope to whip my ass. 
I stumbled ahead of him through the main receiving room and into the large room marked
'Interrogation".  In the center was a waist high stretcher.  He made me stand a short distance
from this stretcher and allowed me to assume an erect posture.  From a cleat on the side of the
room, he brought over another rope which, on looking up, I could see ran through a pulley high
on the ceiling.  Barry tied this rope around my handcuffs and hauled my arms high above my 
head.
     "Ouch, the cuffs are cutting into me, sir."
     "Well get up on your toes then."  With that he picked up a large roll of duct tape.  First he
bound my ankles tightly together.  Slowly he worked up my legs, then my thighs.  He then
skipped to my waist which he encircled multiple times, pulling the tape as tight as possible,
cinching me down to what felt like 18 inches.  Having immobilized my lower extremities, he
lowered my arms, removed the handcuffs and positioned my wrists along my thighs.  More tape
was used to bind my hands, wrists and lower arms to my body.  With each pull of the tape, I
fought to maintain my balance.  I now almost looked like a mummy from my lower chest down.
     With ease he picked me up, laid me on the stretcher and placed strips of tape across my
lower arms, thighs, knees, ankles, pelvis and waist attaching the tape to the sides of the stretcher.
     "Now, Jennie, see what how much you can move."
     With effort I could flex my ankles a little and could still lift and turn my head.
     "Sir, why are you doing this to me?  I haven't done anything."
     He replied, "Well, I'm going to work you over to the point where you will doing anything
I want.  Furthermore, you will soon decide to obey just like a trained animal."
     "I am not an animal.  Besides, you are not allowed to hurt me," I said.
     Not replying, he picked up some type of mask.  Before I could really see what it looked
like, he was forcing it over my head.  It felt like it consisted of leather over a metal framework. 
As he buckled it tightly around my head, the lower portion slipped under the tip of my chin. 
Pulling on another strap, this portion closed tightly so that I could no longer open my mouth
although I could still separate my lips.  My vision was blurred by a section of plastic that covered
the upper portion of the opening for my face.
     "It's too tight," I managed to say.
     "Well, that's too bad."  With that he tore off another piece of tape which went over the
brow of the mask and down over the stretcher sides.  Somehow he also ran another piece of tape
or rope from the top of the mask to the top of the frame.  I no longer could move my head.  Then
I felt his hands unbuttoning the upper part of my coverall all the way down to my waist.  He
roughly pushed apart the two sides of the shirt portion exposing my breasts
     "Oh, very pretty, full and asking for a little attention," he observed as he taped down my
bare shoulders and upper chest.  "Now what can you move?"  He watched me strain my arms and
trunk without results.  "How about your feet?"  His fingers ticked the soles and I jerked in
response.  "Well we can fix that."  More tape was passed around my feet and toes pulling them
down towards the foot of the stretcher.  Now I couldn't move anything.
     "Don't go away, Jennie."  I heard him moving away and leaving the room.  I lay there
trying unsuccessfully to loosen the tape strips by straining.  I guessed this is what I had asked for
in the questionnaire.  Actually it was rather exciting and stimulating.  I felt some sensations in my
vagina but they disappeared when I began to wonder what would happen next.  At least I was
warm..
     When he returned he asked, "Are you thirsty, pretty Jennie?"
     "A little," I managed to get out through my teeth.  The next thing I knew he was dripping
water from a bottle onto my mouth.  At first it felt good, but then the drops started hitting my
nostrils.  I murmured a protest and blew out through my nose to clear the water.  Still more came
and I started coughing.
     "Stop, you're drowning me."  His hand reached in and forced my lips together as more
water came down.  I struggled and began to panic.  Finally he stopped.
     Walking to the head of the stretcher, he suddenly raised it higher and higher until I was
vertical, the tape still holding me very tightly as I gasped for breath.  The stretcher was now
resting on its end.
     "Now we are going to talk," Barry said.  "Tell me what you do for a living, rich bitch."
     "I don't know that my profession is important right now.  Just let me catch my breath."
     He walked away from me and returned carrying something which I could not see clearly
through the plastic.  Suddenly he was fondling my nipples and dragging a cool, slender chain
across them.  They immediately became erect.  He pulled one slightly out and I winced as I felt it
pinched sharply between some little jaws of a nipple clamp.  He did the same to the other nipple
and began playing with the chain that connected the two clamps.
     "Wrong answer.  Now talk."
     "Please, I'll talk.  I am in charge of drug development at a pharmaceutical company."  It
came to me that he was apparently playing along with the little plot I sent Chet.
     "Good, that's better.  Now I understand that you are developing a drug to treat epilepsy. 
Tell me about It."
     "No, we are not doing any work with those medicines and in any case that would be
classified information," I replied.
     He gave a pull on the chain and then picked up his role of tape again.  He began placing
strips across the lower portion of the mask partially covering up the opening through which I was
breathing.  Immediately the plastic over my eyes began to fog up.  Then his hand closed on the
upper portion of my throat.  He squeezed and suddenly I could not get any air into my trachea.  I
bucked and heaved against the strips of tape around me, realizing that I was about to pass out. 
Then his hand relaxed.
     I sucked in air through my nose and my clenched teeth.  "Oh, please don't do that."
     "Tell me about the epilepsy drug," he ordered.
     "I don't know anything about such a drug."  Immediately his hand was on my throat
again.  This time he was pressing in on each side where I knew my carotid arteries were located. 
Within a few seconds, the reduced blood flow to my head resulted in faint feelings and
then....blackness.  When I regained consciousness I realised that the stretcher was flat and he was
slapping my chest and breasts.
     "Stop, please," I tried to shout through my sore neck.
     "Why did you pass out on me, Jenny?"
     "Well you goddamn fool, you almost killed me," I pleaded, still breathing rapidly.  "I
wasn't getting any blood to my brain."
     Barry said, "Is this better?"  I felt the stretcher tip head down until I was 'standing on my
head'.  There was nothing I could do except moan.  After a few minutes of this, the stretcher was
returned to its flat, normal position.  At this point, I was petrified.  I realised that if something
really happened to me, no one really new where I was.
     More water was dripped on my lower face but happily none hit my nose.
     "Was that water nice, Jennie?  Now I am going to fill up that mouth of yours and let you
think for a while."  I felt some thing rubber pushing at my lips.  How did he think he was going to
get my teeth apart with that mask under my chin?  Then he momentarily loosened the lower part
and squeezed my nostrils together.  I opened my mouth to gasp and felt the rubber ball slip
between my teeth.  Immediately, the mask was tightened and then rubber ball began to inflate as
he pumped on something.  My mouth was now very full and speech was no longer possible, just
moans.  Further strips of tape were placed covering the plastic visor and opening so that now 
only
a very small opening seemed to remain.  I could see nothing.
     I lay there bound tightly, trying not to hyperventilate.  What next?
     
Chapter Four
     A long time seemed to have passed when I heard or sensed movement in the room.  Then
he began to peel off the strips of tape covering the mask which he then removed.
     "Oh, thank you sir," I said, and meant it.
     "Now, tell me what you are?" he ordered.
     "What do you mean, sir?"
     "You are a rich bitch, right?"  As I shook my head, he raised a leather strap and brought it
down across the upper portions of my breasts.  The next blow hit the lower portions and pulled
on the chain, dislodging one of the clamps which he immediately reapplied, tighter than before.
     "Ow, stop.  Yes, please sir. I'm a rich bitch," I shouted.
     "And a bitch is a female dog, right?"  The strap came crashing down across my thighs.
     "Yeeess, ssir!!"
     "You are ready then to behave like a bitch, right?"  I nodded a reply wondering what was
going to happen.
     "Dogs wear collars and obey their masters," he said.  With that he produced a two-inch
wide dog's collar with steel studs, buckled it around my neck and placed a small lock through the
hasp.  He then snapped a lead chain onto a ring of the collar.  Gradually he peeled off all the tape,
binding me to the table, warning me to not touch the nipple clamps.  Then he helped my stand
beside the stretcher.  
     It felt great to be able to move things again and breathe freely.  I was about to thank him
when he ordered me to strip off my prisoner's uniform which at this point was half way down my
arms.  When I hesitated, he roughly pulled the coveralls down to my ankles and ordered me to
step out.
     "Now, down on all fours, bitch.  And remember, that dog's don't talk.  You can whine or
bark, but if you don't obey you will be whipped across that pretty ass of yours."
     It was hard for me to believe that here I was, a successful business woman, cringing on my
hands and knees, a dog collar around my neck, nude and helpless to do anything.  I crawled after
him as he led me across the room to a sink.  He filled a bowl with water and set it in front of me.
     "Lap it up, dog.  I want to see the bowl at least half empty."  He watched as I tried to
comply.  Lapping was not very effective, so I tried sucking, but my nose kept getting wet.  I kept
at it any finally he seemed satisfied.  "Now squat down with your ass on the backs of your legs
and your hands on the floor.  Good.  Now does doggy have to take a piss?"
     He had to be kidding.  I looked at him and made no reply.
     "Yes, I think you should."  He placed some papers on the floor and pulled on the collar.  I
tried resisting but he sort of dragged me onto the newspapers.  "Squat and piss, or do you want a
beating?"
     Although I wondered whether I would be able, the water was having an effect on my
bladder and I really had enough of the rough stuff.  So piss I did as he watched and grinned.
     "Good little bitch.  Now, into your cage.  He made me crawl behind him as he unlocked
another door and led me down a corridor to another room.  Opening this, I heard immediate
barking and smelled what appeared to be a real kennel.  There were several large dog cages, the
first of which contained a black Labrador.  The chain was unsnapped from my collar and I was
pushed into the next cage.  The door was shut behind me and locked.  Barry then left.
     The cage was about 3X4X3 feet with one inch openings in the steel mesh.  The lab
pressed his nose towards my cage and was sniffing.  I wondered whether it was male or female as
I tried to get comfortable.  I found that sitting was probably best although the mesh making up the
floor of the cage was not very nice on my buttocks.  Oh, if the people at the office could see their
boss now.  I knew that the happiest would be my second in command, the guy who badly wanted
my job.
     As I sat there thinking I became more aware of the pain in my nipples.  Looking down I
saw the clamps and chain.  They were strangely attractive but hurt.  Well dogs didn't wear nipple
clamps. One by one I took them off and sucked in my breath at the pain as the blood returned. 
Maybe Barry would be upset but the hell with him, the bastard.  I wondered what time it was. 
Was I to spend the rest of the night here?
     My thoughts were interrupted by his return.  "Well, do you like being the bitch that you
are?  Or would you rather be a woman?"
     "A woman, sir."
     He unlocked the cage and helped me out.  "Walk ahead of me back to the center room,
and don't try anything."  I complied, covering my breasts and crotch as best as possible.  When I
reached the center of the room, he ordered me to stop.  From a nearby table he took a pile of
chains and the ever present handcuffs.  Some of the chains looked rather heavy.  It didn't take him
long before I was wearing them.  My wrists were cuffed together in front of me and connected by
about four inches to a tight, heavy chain around my waist.  A chain ran up to my collar and
another down to my ankle cuffs which were linked by about eight inches of chain.  The worst was
a heavy chain that ran through my crotch from my waist in front to my waist in back.
     "Comfortable?"  I nodded my reply.  "How are your nipples?"
     "Sore, sir."
     "Maybe this will help."  He picked up another role of the dreadful duct tape and began
winding it tightly around my chest, covering my breasts as well as the chain from collar to waist. 
The pressure on my nipples was considerable.  "Nice bra, don't you think?"
     I murmured, "Bastard".  He just laughed at me.  "Now walk towards the door marked
"Private facilities"."  He unlocked this door.  Looking in I saw a short corridor and then a heavy
steel door which he also unlocked.  Beyond it was a small, dimly lit room about four feet square. 
Into this I was shoved, almost falling when the ankle chain came up short.  I immediately noticed
that the floor was covered by rubber or composition mat.  I jumped as I heard the door slam shut
behind me and almost immediately the light went off, leaving me in complete darkness.  I moved
forward until I could feel the wall, finding it also covered with a mat.
     I realized that I was in a 'tight' room designed for 'solitary confinement'.  There was
absolutely no sound or light, and the temperature was well above 80 degrees.  I slowly slid down
the wall until I was sitting.  The air seemed heavy but not stale so I guessed that there was enough
ventilation.  Happily I had never been bothered by claustrophobia.  I got on my knees and felt
around the small cell.  There was nothing but matted walls and floor.  I even lost track of which
was the doorway.  Sitting back again, I tried to get comfortable.  The chain rubbed a little on my
clitoris and labia which made me smile.  Maybe I could get my mind off what had happened in the
past few hours.  With my cuffed hands I tried pulling the chain back and forth and was rewarded
by some very nice sensations.  Soon I was wet and very aroused, but try as I might I could get no
further towards a climax.
     I sensed how tired I really was, shut my eyes and nodded off to sleep.
     The next thing I knew, the light was back on and a key was turning in the lock.  How long
had I slept?  Was it morning?
     Barry entered the room and helped me stand.  Without a word, he unwrapped the tape,
not caring as it pulled on my skin and nipples.  Then he pushed me out, through the main room,
into the cell block and finally into my cell.  The door slid shut with a bang and I heard the locks
closing as he left the area.  Wearily, I crawled into my bunk and managed to get the blanket up
over me.
Chapter Five
     The night seemed to pass slowly.  I awoke multiple times, probably when the chains and
cuffs prevented me from turning.  Using the toilet was easier without any clothes but I still
couldn't wipe myself.  I could however use the glass to get drinks of water.  In my mind I
reviewed the day's events.  Some were fun and were exactly what I had expected.  Others were
rather rough.  Still, the bad times were more or less within the limits I had specified in the
questionnaire.  I looked around the cell some more but saw nothing new.  I guess in most prisons
I would be allowed to have some reading material.  Here there was little to occupy my time other
than for trying to slip out of the cuffs, pull on the chains, rattle them against the bars and wonder
what was going to happen next.
     When the cell block door finally opened, it was Hilda who entered.  I got up from the
bunk and said nothing, trying to gauge from her expression what mood she was in.
     "Back up, bitch, and face the toilet.  Oh, I like you little doggie collar."  I felt her remove
the short chain between my handcuffs and the waist chain and she then snapped a leash on my
collar.  I was led out of the cell and into the shower stall where I was handed a bar of soap.
     "Get yourself real clean, especially that mess of hair, and don't stop until I tell you."  She
watched while I again tried to get warm water to run, gave up and stepped into the cascading
stream.  When I turned around she was gone.  It was sort of fun trying to wash with my wrists
cuffed.  At first, the cool water felt good but soon I was cold and starting to shiver.  I was
tempted to just get out and see what would happen but I was leery of being punished.  I guess I
was learning to 'obey'.  Still it seemed like a long time before she returned, carrying the orange
coveralls.
     "Dry yourself off while I get you out of those cuffs and chains."  She then allowed me to
'dress'.  The collar remained around my neck.  I was then led back to my cell where I saw a
breakfast tray on the bunk.
     "Eat it all up, wash the dishes and set them beside the cell door when you are through. 
And I want your bunk made up and looking neat."
     "Hilda, ma'am, may I ask what time it is?"
     "No, and you will be punished for speaking without permission."  With that she left.
     Breakfast consisted of an apple, some dry cereal for which milk was provided and two
chocolate covered doughnuts.  I found that I was hungry and everything tasted good.  Freed of
the handcuffs, it was easy to wash things and make up the bunk.  I ran my fingers through my hair
and found it was a mess of snags.  I wished I had a comb and maybe a little makeup.  I decided to
take a chance and ask Hilda for at least a comb when she returned.  I didn't have to wait long.
     She seemed pleased when she looked around the cell and asked, "Did you enjoy your
breakfast, Jennie, and are you ready for another day?"
     "Yes, very much, thank you.  I would feel better, ma'am, if I had a comb.  I guess my hair
is a little long for this sort of thing," I said.
     "Hm.  I think we can take care of that.  Come with me."  She made me walk in front of
her back into the main room where I immediately saw an old fashioned pillory.  I was made to
stand in front of it while she lifted the heavy wooden upper piece.  I hesitated a little too long and
felt her grab me by the hair and pull my head into position.  "Now your hands, and make it quick."
     I considered resisting but a swat from a riding crop she was carrying made me change my
mind.  Quickly the bar came down around my wrists and neck, imprisoning me.  I could see her
placing pins in each side, securing the bar.  Next, she made me spread my feet which she then 
tied
to each side of the small platform from which the pillory arose.  Going behind me, she struck my
behind several times with the crop resulting in yelps and a little bucking on my part.  Then,
reaching over the top bar, she positioned a pear gag in front of my mouth.  With the next swat
which hurt more than the others, I gasped and in went the gag.
     "Now, let's see about your hair."  She left the room for a few minutes while I tried to
figure out what was going to happen.  Although at that moment I was comfortable, I could see
how standing like that would quickly become a chore.  When she returned she was carrying a pair
of scissors as well as several other things which she placed on a nearby table.  I started moaning
into the gag but was helpless to prevent her from running her fingers through my hair.  Then she
began cutting.  I watched in horror as big clumps of hair began falling to the floor in front of me. 
If only I could ask to see the director but it was already too late.  The only saving grace was that
she seemed to be working systematically and evenly.  When she finished, she held a mirror in 
front
of me.  I was aghast at the shortness but it gave me the look of a pixie and was short of cute.  I
sure wasn't going to get any snarls for quite a while.
     "Maybe you won't have as many questions now," she said.  "And maybe an hour or two in
that position will make you a little more likely to obey."  My attempts at a please didn't make any
difference as she walked out.  As the minutes passed, I became more and more uncomfortable
until I was aching to stand straight.
     When she returned her first question was, "Now would you like to remain that way
longer, or would you like to lie on this table?"  I turned my head and saw she was pushing in what
appeared to be a standard, medical examining table.  Now what, I thought.
     After releasing me from the pillory she had me strip and lie on my back.  She hauled my
hands above my head and proceeded to bind them tightly together with rope.  Using the end of
this, she secured my hands to the very head of the table.  A leather strap was placed across my
waist and the my knees were strapped into stirrups which she then swung out.  Finally she
lowered the bottom of the table so that my pelvis was wide open to her gaze.  Looking upwards I
could see still another video camera pointed right at me.
     "Did you ever hear the phrase 'Shave and a haircut, two bits'?"  I shook my head violently
from side to side, guessing what was coming.
     It started with a thorough washing, inside and out with soapy water.  Then came the
shaving cream, squirted out from a canister.  Finally I felt the first pass of the razor on my pubis. 
I let out a series of "No, no, no..." which were unintelligible due to the gag, but I'm sure she
heard me.  The shaving took quite a while for the razor kept getting clogged with hair.  Also, the
razor seemed rather dull.  Several times I thought she was cutting me.  The final straw was the
application of after shave lotion which brought tears to my eyes.
     "Oh, poor baby," she said.  "Look how bare and open you are.  I bet they think you are a
cold bitch where you work, and here you are all exposed and asking for a little attention."
     I raised my head and looked at her as she poured a little warm skin lotion on her hand and
began to very gently rub it on the sensitive lips that guarded my vagina.  Instantly I became
aroused and knew that my juices were lubricating my passageway.  I moaned softly and then a
little louder as her fingers explored me and then dived into me, rubbing against my clitoris.  Then
she was slowly going in and out of me as I began to breathe faster.  I tried to move my pelvis with
her but the waist strap limited this.  Just when I thought she might take me all the way, she
stopped.
     "Just as I thought.  You love all this and are lying there panting for more.  Well, let's try
something new."  She released the straps that held me on the table and had me stand on the floor
while she moved the examining table away.  My hands were still bound and tethered by the rope
which she then attached to the ceiling pulley mechanism.  Using this she raised my hands up until
there was tension on my arms although my feet were still flat on the floor..  Then she ordered me
to spread my legs and placed a spreader bar between my ankles.  I looked down and watched as
she buckled leather cuffs around my ankles, attaching them to the bar.
     "I think you have seen enough," she said as she pulled a rather heavy, eyeless leather hood
over my face.  Lacing this up the back snugged the leather tightly over the contours of my head. 
Then the wide neck portion of the hood was buckled and I found that I could no longer bend or
turn my head much at all.  In complete darkness I stood there wondering what now.
     "Such pretty breasts," she murmured.  I felt her hands cup them, lift them and squeeze
them gently.  Then she was playing with my nipples which immediately asked for more.  "I bet
you have never had your boobs tied, have you?"
     Obviously she didn't expect a response from my gagged and covered mouth.  Then I felt
her circle my chest above and below my breasts with a thin cord.  More turns went around me
cris-crossing between my breasts.  Then, using more of the cord, she began to encircle each 
breast
at its base, cinching each turn tighter and tighter.  This effectively cut off the venous blood return
from my boobs which became engorged, full and tight.  I could tell that my nipples were huge and
when she touched them they were sensitive and tender.  Tying off the cord, she then placed some
type of clamps on my tits.  
     "Still hot down below?  Want some more attention there?"  I moaned....and even I didn't
know whether that meant yes or no.  "Well, try this, hot bitch."  I felt a leather belt go around my
waist followed my a crotch strap.  As she passed this between my spread thighs, she gently
inserted a fairly large dildo up into me, holding it in place with the strap.
     Although I was obviously stimulated by the dildo, gyrating my pelvis didn't seem to
heighten my pleasure.  I found my self wanting her to do something more.  I moaned again but
then realized that she had left me.  I moved awkwardly around on my tethered hands and spreader
bar cuffed feet as the fullness and discomfort in my breasts and nipples grew.  How long was she
going to leave me like this?  I moaned louder and pulled at the over head rope but this just 
seemed
to tighten the turns around my wrists.  My fingers couldn't find any ends of the bindings and I was
completely helpless.
     Suddenly from close to my side, Hilda asked, "How about dancing for me and making
some little bells ring?"  I didn't have the foggiest notion of what she was talking about.  But then
she replaced the nipple clamps with a different type and heard a little tinkle as I felt small bells,
dangling from the clamps hit the upper part of my belly.  The she was placing more clips and bells
on my labia and the skin of my inner thighs.  Still more were attached to the backs of my raised
arms.  Each of these hurt clips hurt.
     "Now, I want to hear those bells ring loud and long."  I jumped as she swatted by rump
with a strap or whip.  "Dance, I said," she yelled as the whip came down again.  And move I did,
within my limits.  "Shake those breasts.  Maybe you can shake the clips off."  I was soon trying to
mimic a topless bottomless stripper in a bar, me a corporation department head.  The sweat was
covering my face under the hood and probably all of my body as I twisted and turned and shook. 
Several of the bells did hit the floor but I was still getting whipped from time to time.  Finally,
despite the blows. I just got tired and slowed to a stop, breathing heavily through the nose
opening.
     "Looks like you need a rest, pretty Jennie.  Will you obey me if I remove all my toys and
rope?"  I tried my best to nod a yes.  With the removal of each remaining clip, there was
momentary pain but the worst was when she unwound the rope from around my breasts.  There
was a surge of pain and tingling as blood flow returned.  Soon, all the ropes, cuffs, dildo and
straps were gone.  I stood there, nude, rubbing my wrists and looking down at my swollen
breasts.
     "Get into your orange coveralls, button them up and put your hands behind you," came
her command.  With a leash on my dog collar and my wrists back in handcuffs, I was led back to
my cell which looked inviting after what I had been through.  "Now stand there while I get your
lunch."
     Was it noon already, I wondered.  She returned carrying a tray.  In the center was a bowl
upside down, some crackers and an apple.  Also, there was an extra large baby's bottle of milk,
capped my a standard baby's nipple.  Hilda said, "Now, you probably think there is some nice
soup under that bowl.  Actually it is clam chowder, perhaps a little over cooked."  She raised the
bowl exposing a congealed, white gelatinous mess, resting right on the tray.  "Oh, looks like I
forgot the other bowl.  Now I want everything to go in that pretty mouth of yours.  The milk
bottle holds a quart.  When you are done, wash up everything, place the dishes on the floor by
your cell door and you can take a short nap.  And no, I am not going to take the handcuffs off." 
The cell door clanged shut and was securely locked as she departed.
     For the next half hour or so, I licked, lapped, sucked and otherwise worked at the
chowder, getting it all over my face.  The crackers were in a little package which I managed to
tear open behind by back.  They helped with the chowder which actually tasted good.  But what a
mess.  The apple was a little easier.  Sucking the milk from the bottle was a slow process.  Finally
I was full, tired and disgusted, but realized that I had to empty and clean the tray.  I placed the
bottle to one side and carried the tray behind my back over to the toilet.  Tipping the tray on end,
I put the corner into the toilet bowl and then pushed the flush button.  Only the corner of the tray
got cleaned so I uncapped the bottle and poured the remaining milk over the center of the tray. 
Slowly, I worked a different corner of the tray into the toilet and flushed the thing again.  Well It
took me quite a while but finally things looked clean.  So to bed I went, immediately falling
asleep.
Chapter Six
     When I heard someone entering the cell block, I doubted if I had slept very long. But I still
had some soreness in my shoulders from having my hands locked behind me.  It was Barry who
opened the cell door as I got up and faced the toilet.
     "Looks like you are learning a little despite this easy life you have been living, Jennie.  In
any case, it's time for another lesson.  And we are going to talk a little more about your new
drugs.  Now get your ass in gear and march in front of me into the main room."
     I was immediately confronted by a heavy, arm less wooden chair with numerous straps
hanging from the back.  While I was looking it over, Barry took off my handcuffs, spun me
around and pushed me backwards so that I sat down abruptly.  The back of the chair came up to
just above my shoulders.  In the centre of the bare seat there was a wooden ridge about two
inches high, running from the back to the front.  I adjusted my position so that the ridge was in
the crevasse between my buttocks.  That way, it was only pushing in a little.  Behind my legs, the
chair was solid and there was a little platform on which to rest my feet.
     Barry first buckled a strap tightly around my waist, pulling me back as far as possible. 
Next, he criss-crossed straps from the waist level over my shoulders and still another encircled 
my
upper chest including my upper arms.  Each of these straps was pulled as snugly as possible so
that movement of my torso was no longer possible.
     "Sir, that's a little too tight," I said softly.
     "Oh, but you like it that way.  Already your face is a little flushed and your nipples are
poking out at your clothing," was his reply.
     Next, he picked up a board that had two notches and slid this over my legs just below my
knees where it was held in place by bolts protruding from the chair.  Winged nuts were used to
push this board against my legs.  A similar board was placed at ankle level.  The next board was
almost like a tray.  It was put around my waist just below my elbow level and as he pushed it into
place, he slid my hands into two mitts which were riveted to the top surface.  The mitts were of
very heavy, stiff leather and bound my fingers and hands flat against the "tray".  As he tightened
the wing nuts, my hands were jammed and pinched further and further into the mitts to the point
where I found I was holding my breath.  Short straps attached to the tray were then used to hold
each my forearms to the board, not that this appeared necessary.  Similar straps were used on my
bare feet.
     For a moment, Barry stood back and looked me over, appearing pleased at what he saw.  I
now could move my toes a little and had full motion of my head.  Otherwise, I was held tightly in
position.  He walked behind me somewhere and when he returned he was carrying a heavy, black
mask consisting of bands of iron.  There was hinge of some type on the side, and when he swung
the medieval mask open I could see an iron ball, welded to the front part.
     "Open your mouth, bitch," he ordered as he pushed the mask against my face.  My
response was to clamp my jaws firmly together but immediately the ball was pushing painfully on
my lips.  I resisted only momentarily as the pain grew and then opened my mouth allowing the ball
to pass my teeth and push my tongue down.
     My attempt at saying "Ow" came out "Aw" and I gave up trying to say more.  He closed
the mask about my head and placed a lock on the side opposite from the hinge.  When he then
pushed the mask in various directions, the iron bands seemed to cut into my cheeks, forehead,
skull and even the bridge of my nose which immediately began to hurt.  I started moaning to get
him to stop but this only brought a smile.
     "That ought to get you thinking about co-operating, but there is more to come," he said. 
He began to tighten the winged nuts on the legs boards so that they pressed more and more on 
my
sensitive shin areas.  Now I was just short of screaming.  Didn't he realise how much he was
hurting me?
     "Now you can just sit there for a while and do a little thinking."
     After he left, I immediately tested the straps and various boards but immediately realised
that nothing gave way or was loose.  My fingers were now numb in the mitts, my shins were
hurting, it felt like I was sitting on a piece of 2 X 4 board with a sharp edge and I was drooling
around the iron ball in my mouth.  I was just about at the point of giving up and asking for the
director, but this would be admitting that I couldn't 'take it'.  Also, I knew that nothing had been
done to me that would show after a day or so.  Maybe a few bruises and of course my short
haircut and shaven pussy, but I guessed these were sort of fun in a way.
     "Are you ready to tell me all about that new epilepsy drug you developed?" he asked as he
returned to the room.  Now I knew I had painted myself into a corner.  If I denied any such drug
(which he had learned about in the little plot or scenario I had suggested to Chet) my torment
would continue, yet there was no drug and I doubted he would accept just some fanciful
description.
     My hesitation to nod a reply caused him to suddenly bring a whip down as hard as
possible across the backs of my hands.  The heavy leather mitts cushioned the blow but still I felt
a sharp sting.  More blows followed as I moaned.  He then switched to my breasts which stung
more but thankfully he let up on the force of the blows.  I began nodding a yes to his previous
question, not knowing what I was going to say.  I just wanted him to stop, which he did.
     Carefully, he unlocked the mask and lifted it off my head.  "Would you like a little water,"
he asked.
     "Yes, please, Sir," I replied, licking my dry lips.  He held a glass of cold water to my
mouth and watched me drink.  "Thank you, Sir."
     "Jennie, we have put you through quite a lot and I know that you have been close to
asking to see the director.  Your pain tolerance is not particularly high but you do better than
many who come here.  There are some more things that I think you would like to experience, but
pain will not be a big component.  And we are going to depart from that little scenario of yours
unless you want to continue with it."
     I said, "No Barry.  I think it was a bad idea.  Yes, I was close to the breaking point, but
I'm still game to try most things."
     "Okay, but remember that you still have no rights.  You are completely under our control
unless you ask for the director.  You will speak only when directed to do so, bitch.  Understand?"
     "Yes, Sir."
     He loosened the boards a little, relieving the pressure on my hands and legs.  Slowly the
circulation began to return to my fingers.  Barry let me sit there a few minutes while he left the
room through a door behind me.  When I heard him return I tried to look at him but could not
turn that far. I then felt him pulling a different mask over my head.  This was rubber and covered
my entire head down to my dog collar.  There were plastic coverings over my eyes such that
things were blurred.  I could breathe fairly well but realised that the air was coming in and going
out through some tubes or valves.  Also, when I exhaled, the plastic eye pieces got fogged up.
     "Breathing okay?" he asked.  My yes reply was very muffled and I wondered whether it
was intelligible. 
     "How about now?"  When I tried to inhale, no air came in and mask closed in further
around my face.  I tried again with no result and began to try to twist away from his hands that
obviously were closing off the intake.  Finally, he stepped back and I sucked air in rapidly.
     "Jennie, I want you to learn some breath control.  When I shut off your air, try to relax as
long as possible, just like you were swimming under water.  Don't struggle.  Understand?"
     As I nodded, he again pinched off something.  I just sat there, bound to the chair, and
waited.  My face was very hot and I knew I was sweating.  Then I tried a little breath without
result.  Gradually I began to panic, struggling to get away from him.  Again, he released his hand.
     "That was considerably longer but you can do better."  After allowing my to catch my
breath, he approached me again.  This time I took multiple deep breaths before his hand found the
mask tube or opening.  I tried relaxing and held on.  Suddenly I felt very light headed and almost
sleepy.  Looking out the room seemed to darken.  His voice when I heard it sounded far away.
     "Breathe, Jennie, breathe!"  I felt his hand pushing on my chest and things returned to
normal.  I realised that the mask was off my head.  "You went a little too far that time, Jennie.  By
hyperventilating first, you blew off your carbon dioxide and then the lack of oxygen was not
enough drive to make you breathe so you began to faint.  Remember that if you ever encounter a
similar situation.  Understand?"
     "Yes, Sir.  Could I see the mask?"
     He showed it to me, explaining that it was a rather typical gas mask with air valves such
that the air flowed through a canister, into the mask and out through another valve.  He simply
had covered the intake opening.
     "Now before I let you loose from that chair, I am going to show you some of its other
possibilities."  He hooked the ceiling pulley-rope onto the chair somewhere behind me and
through a switch on a wall winch.  I looked up to see the rope tighten and then the chair started
tipping forward..  He kept me from falling onto my face and then steadied the chair as it turned
me upside down.  Finally the chair and I were clear of the floor and I was slowly rotating one way
and then the other.  Blood rushed to my face.  It was a funny sensation for I knew I was securely
bound to the chair and therefore had no fear of falling or slipping.
     Then as the chair rose still higher, my face was even with is.  He reached out and stroked
my cheeks and neck.  Raising his hands still further he touched my breasts, teasing my nipples
through the prisoner's uniform.  Then his lips were close to mine and I found myself hoping he
would kiss me.  But this was not to be.  
     He pushed a different button on the winch and gradually brought the chair down and
upright.  Then he released me from all the straps, the mitts and the boards until I was completely
free.
     "Like that?" he asked.
     "Yes, you bastard.  I'd like to get you bound into that chair and torment you.  And the
same goes for your pal, Hilda."
     "Jennie, you are in pretty good physical condition but no match for me, even if I had one
hand tied behind me.  And as for Hilda, you are probably about as strong as she, but lack her
guts."
     "Well, I sure would like to get even with her for a few things," I said.
     He replied with a smile on his face, "Because of that remark and your lack of saying a few
Sirs, I am going to give you a chance with her.  Back to your cell block on the double."  After I
had entered my cell he had me back against the bars near my cot and place my hands over my
head.  From outside, he grabbed my wrists and pulled them between the bars with one bar
between my hands.  Then I felt handcuffs closing and being double locked.
     Barry then came inside the cell and walked up close to me.  As his eyes ran up and down
my body, I felt my face flush and I got warm and gushy in my pussy.
     "Are you warm or cold, Jennie?"
     "Sir, this cell is usually quite cold, but right now I feel very warm."
     He reached up and began to open all the buttons of my coveralls.  Pushing the two sides
apart, he exposed my breasts, bent over and placed a wet kiss on one nipple which responded
immediately.  His hands reached in and caressed my waist, gradually moving down to my thighs.
     "Now, I'll let you cool off.  Don't go away.."
     "Bastard," I said as he departed leaving the cell door open.  I wasn't going anywhere.
Chapter Seven
     When Barry returned he took the cuffs off me, entered my cell, ordered be to strip and
gave me a shiny garment.  "Put that on.  Maybe it will help you.  You are going to have a
wrestling match with Hilda."
     The garment was a one piece, step in, black latex exercise suit that extended from below
my knees to above my breasts, with a sleeveless extension that buckled behind my neck.  The
garment was skin tight, following every curve and was closed with a long zipper in front and two
side zippers in the thigh and leg portions.  As I zipped it up I had to suck in my breath for it was
tight in the mid-portion.  It felt wonderful.  He then suggested that I rub some body oil over the
latex to make it even slippier.  I could see that this might well make it harder for Hilda to grab
hold of me.  Barry then snapped a lead on my collar and led me off the main room.  We went
down a corridor that I had previously not seen until we came to a room marked 'gymnasium".
     When we entered Hilda was standing near a large floor mat.  She was wearing a leather
bra and tight shorts, and looked bigger and stronger than before.  An evil smile was on her face.
     Barry said, "Okay, you two.  There will be no rounds.  You will wrestle until one of you
begs for mercy.  No biting, gouging or hitting.  If either of you touches floor outside the limits of
the mat, I'll have you break apart and start again.  Any questions?  Oh, one other thing.  The
winner gets to pick the punishment for the other."
     I stood there trying to figure a plan.  My wrestling experience was nil.  I guessed that I
should try to twist an arm or bend her neck somehow.
     We were made to stand on opposite corners of the mat and he gave the signal to start. 
We began circling each other.  Suddenly she darted at me hoping to bowl me over but I stepped
to one side and pushed at her as she went past.  Although she fell to the mat she was back on her
feet very quickly.  For a large woman she seemed surprisingly fast.  We approached each other
again and I grabbed at her arms.  Using her forearms she knocked mine apart, moved in and
grabbed me in a bear hug with surprising strength.  I felt myself raised off me feet and then
slammed down onto the mat where she fell on top of me.
     I squirmed and twisted as she groped for my face.  Happily the oil on my suit allowed me
to twist out from underneath her.  Hilda said to Barry, "You son of a bitch.  You cheated by
giving her that oil."  We were now back on our feet, groping for each other.  I tried to grab her
arm but she moved to one side and suddenly was behind me, her arms locked around me
squeezing my chest and breasts.  I tried unlocking her arms but she was far too strong.  Again 
she
lifted me and then forced me down.  This time she straddled my body and her hands closed on my
collar. Repeatedly she lifted my head and slammed it down onto the mat as I tried to break her
hold.  Nothing seemed to work and I was beginning to get dizzy.
     Without much effort she then rolled me over, her arms came under my shoulders and she
locked her hands behind my neck in a 'full Nelson'.  I felt her bend my head sharply forward and
the pain began to build up in the back of my neck.  I was panting, sweating and struggling but
knew that I didn't have a chance.  When the pain became unbearable, I yelled, "Mercy".
     Hilda didn't let go but eased up on my neck as Barry came forward and said to me,
"Jennie, that wasn't much of a fight, but on the other hand Hilda is a pro at this.  Hilda, what do
you want to do with her?"
     "Strip off that oily suit of hers and get a jacket her size."
     As he left I struggled a little but immediately felt her bear down on my neck such that I
stopped and lay back against her.  I couldn't lower my arms and was helpless in her grasp.  When
Barry returned he unzipped my garment and pulled it down off me.  Without letting go, Hilda got
me to a sitting position.
     Barry then picked up the 'jacket' and held it in front of me.  I immediately recognised that
he was holding a canvas strait jacket.  The idea of being placed in one of these had always been a
dream of mine so I really didn't struggle very much when he slid it over my arms which then
disappeared up the rough sleeves, never quite reaching the ends.  Hilda then rolled me over onto
my stomach, let go of my poor neck and sat on my rump.
     Together they started lacing up the back of the jacket starting at the top.  It seemed a little
snug but not really tight.  However, when they began fastening the straps in back, they pulled
these as tight as possible.  I was brought to a sitting position on the floor and the straps that were
extensions of the sleeves were threaded through side loops and buckled under considerable
tension behind me.  I was now hugging myself.  Barry then produced ankle cuffs separated by a
short piece of chain and placed these on me.  After helping me to stand, he fastened a strap that
ran from the lowest portion of the front, between my legs and back to a rear buckle.
     
     Then Hilda, without saying a word, led be to the tight room, pushed me in, slammed the
door and turned off the light.  Now what, I thought.  For a while I stood there pulling on the
sleeves and trying to move them up or down to no avail.  I wondered whether it might be possible
to loosen a strap by rubbing my back against the matted walls but realised this was impossible. 
So I just sat down.  Actually I was quite comfortable.  The room seemed a little warm but this
was far better than being cold.  I was somewhat thirsty and maybe a little hungry.  Was it dinner
time?   What time was it?
     After some time, the monotony of the situation seemed to make me a little sleepy so I lay
on my back.  The size of the room did not allow me to stretch out but I could get fairly
comfortable lying diagonally across the floor with my knees bent.  At this moment the light in the
ceiling came on, I heard a key in the lock and Hilda opened the door.  Behind her, Barry stood
grinning at me.
     She said, "Before we lock you in for the night, we wanted to know if you would like
anything."
     "You mean I have to stay like this all night?  In that case, I would like to use the toilet and
have something to drink.  I'm not particularly hungry," I replied.
     Barry went out and returned with a glass of water which he helped me drink as Hilda said,
"Well, these tight rooms don't have toilets but we have an answer for your bladder problems. 
Barry, you get her ready.  I'll be right back."
     He rolled me onto my front and I could then feel him open the strap running through my
crotch.  Finally he unlaced the very lowest portion of the jacket and forced me onto my back.
When I looked up, there was Hilda coming at me with an adult diaper.
     "Oh no you don't," I exclaimed and started to struggle.  Barry wedged his knees between
mine, reached forward and lifted up my pelvis so that Hilda could slide the diaper under me.  Then
she folded the front part up over me, fastening the sides with Velcro strips.  I raised my head and
looked down to see the bulky thing, covered with a layer of plastic.  As Barry laced me up again
and fastened the crotch strap, I started calling them both as many filthy names as I could
remember.  Their answer to that was to get out the roll of duct tape.
     "No, I'm sorry.  I'll be quiet," but this statement didn't stop them from sealing my mouth
shut with several layers of tape, wound around my lower face and neck.  I was still moaning when
they shut the door and dimmed the overhead light.
     I lay there thinking about myself.  I really wasn't uncomfortable. The strait jacket was
cozy, my arms lay in almost a fetal position and I could still move my legs a fair amount.  The
tape on my mouth would be a problem if my nose got stuffed up during the night but at that
moment, I was breathing fine.  As I explored my position, I realised that if I raised my arms they
pulled up on the jacket and that in turn pulled up on the strap between my legs.  This stimulated
my labia a little so I did this some more.  Unfortunately, the diaper cushioned the movement and
prevented me from really becoming excited although I remained warm and moist down there.
     The complete silence and subdued light combined with the warm room combined to make
me fall asleep for a while.  When I awoke it was at least partially due to the fact that my bladder
was full.  I put up with this feeling for some time as I moved around a little, testing my restraints. 
I was fighting against the idea of wetting myself but finally decided I had no alternative and let go.
Although my bladder distress was immediately relieved, I now could feel the soggy diaper
between my legs.  Sort of a mess, I thought.  At least I could not smell the piss at that moment.
     After again falling asleep I was awakened my the sound of the door opening.  Hilda
entered and stared at me with a grin on her face.
     "Napping in your wet nappy, Jennie?  Would you like me to change you?"  Any are you
thirsty?"  I nodded a reply.
     "Well, get to your feet and I'll take you to your cell."  She snapped a leash on my collar
and let the way out into the cool corridor.  When we reached my cell she had me lie down and
then tied the leash to a ring set into the wall such that I couldn't move my head much without the
collar tightening on my neck.
     Rolling me over on my side, she unbuckled the crotch strap and rolled me on my back
again.  Then I felt her reach up inside the straitjacket, grab the diaper and pull down.  The soggy
mess came free and bunched up on my upper thighs until she unfastened the Velcro strips.
     "How would you like this piss filled diaper taped to your face for the rest of the night? 
>From seeing you shake your head, I guess the answer is no.  Oh, and look you are already 
getting
a little red down there from sleeping in your piss.  Well I can't have that happen to any of my
charges even if you are a bitch."
     She departed for a few minutes and on her return started gently to apply a little warm,
scented oil to my pubic area, then my labia and inner thighs, and finally I felt her finger slide right
into me.  By that time I was thoroughly aroused.  I felt her finger move around searching for my
most sensitive areas as I began to moan.  The combination of what she was doing to me 
combined
with my total restraint in the jacket was proving to be a wonderful turn on.
     Suddenly she stopped.  "Don't go away," she said.  This time she was gone several
minutes.  After again entering my cell, she carefully unwrapped the tape from my face.  "Be rather
quiet, Jennie.  I have turned off the monitor cameras and turned down the lights but don't make a
lot of noise.  If you want me to stop, please say so."  Then she unfastened one end of the chain
connecting my cuffed ankles.  Using ropes, she hauled each ankle up towards a side of the bunk
above me.  My legs and thighs were now spread in an open "V".         
     Hilda pulled something up around her pelvis and waist and then kneeled on the bunk with
her thighs pressed against the under side of mine.  Again she explored the well oiled entrance to
my vagina as I just gazed into her face. Then something was pressing at my introitus.  Raising my
head I looked down to see that she had a strap on dildo of considerable size and this was now
poised to enter me.  Her hands felt for my breasts through the heavy canvas and she leaned
forward to gently kiss the side of my neck.
     By now I was feeling hot, very excited and wanting more and more.  It was as if a
tremendous amount of passion was waiting for escape.  The cool, calculating division head was
now a sex starved, bound bitch begging for release.  I found myself whispering, "Please, please,
just put it in me."
     Her answer was a slow thrust and I felt the dildo dilate my canal.  Then she started
moving rhythmically and I found myself matching her and trying to squeeze her.  As our
movements became more frantic, her pelvis was swinging from side to side and up and down. 
Finally I was over the top and knew I had been letting out a series of yes's.  
     Hilda kissed me and withdrew the dildo.  "If you breathe a word of this to Chet or Barry,
I'll deny it ever happened.  But I think you enjoyed every minute of it."  She let my legs down and
re-fastened the crotch strap after asking whether I had to use the toilet.  Also she removed the
leash.  "Try to get some sleep so you will be rested for your last day."
     "Hilda, I don't really understand you, but, yes, I did enjoy that and will not say a word. 
Thank you and good night."  The cell door slammed shut and was locked.
Chapter Eight
     I woke up some time later and again tried to figure out what time it might be but there
were no clues.  It was probably early on my third day which was my last at the facility.  Since I
had arrived and started early on the first afternoon, I anticipated that my 48 hours would finish
about the same time.  So maybe this morning they would take it easy on me, allow me to get
cleaned up, dressed in my own clothes, etc.
     The strait jacket was still comfortable and I had not minded being in it for hours, but my
bladder was again feeling a little full.  It was Barry who entered a short time later and I tried to
see from his expression what kind of a mood he was in as I stood up.
     "Face the wall, bitch," he ordered.  I now knew his mood as I complied.  "I thought Hilda
was going to keep you in the tight room all night.  Guess she took it easy on you.  Stand still
while I get you out of the jacket."  He opened the straps and the laces, spun me around and
roughly pulled the jacket off me.
     "Oh, she also took off your diapers I see.  Well that saves me the trouble.  Put your arms
up in front of you."  With that he snapped the handcuffs back on and followed this with the leg
irons.  Grasping my wrists with one hand, he pinched a nipple with the other and I yelped in
response.  He just smiled.  "Okay, use the toilet if you want while I get your breakfast."
     When he returned, he put the tray on my bunk and gave me the usual directions about
eating everything and cleaning up the dishes.  "And this time I will be watching you on the
monitor so no flushing of food down the john unless you want to try a little electrical stimulation."
     After he left, locking the cell securely as usual, I looked at the tray.  There was a nice
glass of orange juice, some dry cereal, a small container of milk, and - I almost gagged when I
saw them - five small fish lying on a piece of bread.  I supposed they were some type of Japanese
delicacy but to me they were raw fish, complete with heads and tails.  While I contemplated them
I ate some of the cereal and drank the juice.  Should I just flush the rest and take my chances, but
the electric business didn't sound nice.  Finally I screwed up my courage and started on the first
fish.  It was bad but I managed to eat it.  The same with the second.  On the third, I gagged and
some of my stomach contents came up into my mouth.  I swallowed it back down and sat there
with tears in my eyes as Barry came back.
     "What's wrong?  You didn't like my breakfast?  Well you did better than I expected. 
Now take your shower and make it fast."
     As usual the water was cold, maybe even colder than usual.  He stood there watching me,
a cruel smile on his face knowing full well what I was feeling.  "Okay, you can stop now.  Dry
yourself."
     After I did this, he had me turn around and suddenly he pulled a heavy cloth sack over my
head, tying it around my neck.  No light penetrated the cloth.  Barry then had me march in front
of him out of the cell area and I did this carefully for fear of running into a door or wall.  Happily
he ended up guiding me and then had me stand still with my hands in front of my pubis.
     The first turn of the duct tape, which I had come to hate, encircled my wrists and pelvis. 
Next came my elbows and waist, followed by my knees, ankles, thighs, chest above and below my
breasts.  As I struggled to keep from falling over, what felt like a piece of rope was placed around
my head at mouth level, forcing the cloth into my mouth as a gag.
     I tried to voice an objection but he didn't respond.  Then he rather easily picked me up,
carried me a short distance and laid me on what felt like a thick blanket or comforter underneath
which was the floor.  Then he folded the thing over me and I realised that I was in a tapered
sleeping bag.  As the zipper on the side was closed I tried to roll out but he used his hand on one
breast to hold me in position.  The upper portion of the bag was in the form of a hood which he
pulled over the back and top of my head.  More tape was used to encircle the hood and the cloth
covering my eyes.  Then he used what seemed like about ten straps around the sleeping bag.  I
was now mummified.  
     Almost immediately I realised that I was getting very warm inside the thing.  It was tight
and only a small amount of movement of legs and neck was possible.
     "Now for a little fun," came his slightly muffled voice.  He started rolling me one way and
then the other.  Then with me on my stomach he struck my ass repeatedly with a heavy paddle. 
Although the blows were considerable softened my the thick bag, they still hurt, causing me to
moan and cry for help.  Suddenly he poured water on the cloth covering my face.  This initially
felt good but I then realised that it made it more difficult to breathe.  Immediately I started to
panic for I thought of my earlier experience when it seemed he was going to suffocate me.  No,
this panic reaction was what he wanted..  I tried to relax but he was soon rolling me again and
trying to feel my breasts through the material of the bag.
     I was now sweating all over but was at the same time aroused by being so helpless and
restrained.  At that moment he left me.  I lay there getting my breath and trying to see if I could
somehow loosen the tight bands of tape.  But that was impossible.
     It seemed like an hour passed before I heard Barry ask, "Jennie, have you had enough?"
I nodded a yes.  Gradually off came all the layers, tape, straps, hoods, sack, cuffs and irons.  I was
handed my orange jump suit by Hilda who had entered the room.
     Barry said, "Jennie, we are essentially through and have done very well.  Chet will be here
in a moment.  Is there anything you have not experienced here that you would like to try?"
     I thought before I answered.  "No, I guess I am sort of relieved it is over.  Maybe I had
expected more in the way of medieval restraints, cages and boxes but that's okay."  I turned to
Chet as he came in and said, "Look, I survived."
     "So I see.  The look on your sweaty face suggests that you've had enough.  Anything we
missed?" he asked.
     I said, "Well, there was one frame on your web site where you had what looked like a
rigid body bag.  It was like a horizontal 'iron maiden' with bands around it.  I was intrigued with
the picture."
     Chet replied, "I know what you are referring to.  It is a rather tricky and expensive thing I
got a few months ago.  We don't use it on people during their first visit here because it can cause
an attack of claustrophobia."
     Hilda interjected, "Sir, she showed no sign of this when we had her in the tight room for a
long period.  Although she doesn't like pain very much, she otherwise has been great.  Why not at
least show it to her."
     "All right.  We do have plenty of time.  Barry, give me a hand."  They left the room and
when they returned they were carrying the object.  It didn't seem very heavy and Chet explained it
was made out of a strong plastic.  He went on to say that after separating the two halves, a person
could be placed in it.  The halves consisted of two layers, the plastic outside and an inner layer of
thick rubber. After putting the halves back together, air was forced into the space between the
rubber and the plastic.  Since the plastic was rigid, the effect was to push the rubber layer tightly
against the person, imprisoning him in a very tight cocoon, cut off entirely from the outside world. 
"Although we have monitoring devices, it is a sort of dangerous situation, especially if a person
panics, for it takes a few minutes to get him out.  Note that there is no way for the person inside
to communicate with those outside and vice versa."
     "Sir, how does the person breathe?" I asked.
     "There is a tube that we place in his mouth and this runs out through the top half.  It
actually is a pretty good airway."
     My next question was, "I noticed you kept referring to the victim as 'he' or 'him' Have
you ever used it on a woman?"  When he replied he hadn't, I said, "Well I would like very much
to be your first.  Please."
     Chet looked at Hilda and Barry who shrugged as if to say "Why not?"
     "Are you sure?" Chet asked me.  I smiled and nodded.  "Okay, Barry will give me a hand
getting the air compressor.  Hilda, please find the pulse oximeter and the gauge to monitor
breathing."
     I stood there wondering whether I was getting in over my head but was determined to try
the thing out.  While they were setting up the equipment, Chet said that if at any time I wanted
them to stop, all I had to do was pant rapidly.  This would be picked up immediately by one of the
monitoring devices.
     When all was ready, Hilda told me to strip off the coveralls.  I had not expected this and
looked at Chet who said, "Apparently the sensation of the rubber on your bare skin is important
to the total experience, but if you would rather not, we can skip the disrobing."
     "No, if we are going to do it, let's do it right," I said and slipped things off Chet took a
good look at me, pausing to gaze at my shaved pubis.
     "Hilda," he said, "I'll talk to you later."
     "No sir, I sort of asked her to do it," I interjected.
     By this time they had released the bands that held the halves together and opened my
tomb.  I noticed that the bottom half had a form to it, like a silhouette of a person.  Carefully Chet
had me lie down in the form.  He then slipped a little gadget over my right index finger, explaining
that it was a pulse oximeter and would keep track of my pulse and oxygen saturation.  Apparently
the thing to measure my breathing would be attached outside the plastic shell to the tube from my
mouth.
     Chet buckled four straps somewhat loosely around my wrists and ankles that would
remind me not to move my extremities during the inflation phase.  "If we were forcing you into
this, the straps would be tight and there would be straps around your waist, chest and thighs."
     "Sir, remember I said I wanted it done right." 
     "Okay, if that is what you want."  Barry helped and I again realised how strong he was.  It
was Hilda who asked me to open my mouth and accept the tube which was a hard plastic.  It
ended in a mouthpiece positioned inside my lips.  There were projections that went between my
teeth and kept me from biting on the tube.  As she taped the tube and mouthpiece to my face, I
found it quite easy to breathe normally but now realised I could say nothing more.
     "Do you want to change your mind, Jennie?" Chet asked.  I shook my head.
     The top half was lifted and carefully placed over me.  As this was being done, Hilda
guided the tube out through a diaphragm in the top half of the shell, directly over my mouth. 
Before she withdrew her hand it gently caressed one breast.  My vagina which already was damp,
gushed.
     I heard the bands being placed and pulled tight, locking me in.  I was now in complete
darkness and lay there testing my bonds as I heard some muffled noises, probably from the
compressor being attached.  Also, the tube in my mouth wiggled momentarily, presumably from
the monitoring device, or oxygen hook-up.  It wouldn't be long now.
     Actually it seemed like nothing happened for quite a few minutes and I was wondering
whether everything was all right when suddenly there was a distant hum and I began to sense the
rubber layer under me begin to rise.  This continued slowly.  As yet nothing was touching me
from the top shell.  But this soon changed.  I was now being increasingly enveloped in rubber
which seemed to swarm over my body, conforming to every curve and crevasse.  The bottom
layer was lifting me and I could no longer feel the hard lower shell but also knew that the straps
holding my body, wrists and ankles were much tighter.  The top layer was pushing on my face,
squeezing my breasts and wedging its way between my thighs.  Even without the straps I could 
no
longer move even a finger.  The pressure continued to build up on my chest and I knew I must be
breathing primarily with my diaphragm.
     When would the pressure stop increasing?  Maybe they didn't know what I was being
subjected to but I refused to panic.  It felt like I was floating and no longer could tell up from
down for the pressure seemed equal on all sides.  Wow, talk about being restrained and
controlled.  Then the hum disappeared and all was silent.  I just lay there enjoying all the
sensations.  For a fleeting moment I thought of my job, my position, my responsibilities and my
reputation.  All seemed distant and of no importance.  Reality was where I was at that moment. 
For a while I just wanted it to go on and on.  I had forgiven Hilda and Barry for the discomfort
they had caused me.
     Then I felt the pressure begin to subside.  No, I wanted it to go on, even at a higher level. 
Soon I was resting back on the hard lower shell and I could fumbling with the bands.  When the
upper half was lifted up, the initial light was bright in my eyes but I could make out Barry, Hilda
and Chet.
     "Are you okay," they said almost simultaneously.
     When the tube and mouthpiece were removed I answered, "Yes, I'm great," and smiled.
     Chet stated, "Well, you set a new record for being in there the longest.  Guess I was
wrong about you.  Weren't you scared?"  I shook my head and told them I was sorry they had
stopped so soon.
Chapter Nine
     I was given my orange jump suit to wear and we sat there discussing my experiences.  In
response to their questions about what I enjoyed most, I found it hard to answer.  I did mention
the strait jacket, the chains, being made to wear them all night and while eating and showering,
the times of complete restraint and a few other things. I skipped Hilda and her dildo.  A bell rang
in the distance and Chet excused himself.
     After about a half hour, Chet returned he ordered Hilda to get me back in leg irons and
waist chain with my wrists cuffed behind my back.  I sort of relished the idea of a few more
minutes this way and didn't object although I thought I should probably be getting cleaned up and
dressed.  Chet took Barry off to one side, spoke with him and then left.
     Barry then approached me with the leash in his hand, snapped it on my collar and ordered
me to follow him.  I was led into a different part of building where there was an area that seemed
like an apartment.  I surmised it was where the 'instructors' stayed for there was a small bedroom,
kitchenette and living room. Equipped with a sofa, chairs, a table and a TV.  Clearing off the
table, he lifted me up onto it and ordered me to sit on my haunches with my knees separated.
     Hilda said to Barry, "What's going on?"
     "I don't really know.  I'm just following the boss's orders.  Keep her there while I get a
few more things."
     He quickly returned and proceeded to blindfold me with pads that covered my eyes and a
wide band that went around my head.  Then before I could object a pear gag was forced into my
mouth.  I began struggling but Hilda had a tight hold on my arm.  Suddenly the upper part of my
coveralls was pulled open and down to my waist, exposing my breasts.  Not knowing what was
happening I moaned a protest but this was ignored.  I started to rise up and move on the table top
but someone placed several strips of duct tape across my thighs, attaching the ends to the table
sides.  I was going no where.  The final indignity was the application of nipple clips with a
connecting chain that bounced on my upper belly when they finished.
     Chet who had returned to the room at some point said, "Jennie, you have a visitor.  I
didn't expect anyone but he seems to know all about you and your visit here."
     "Yes, Jennie, you are quite a sight.  I have been looking forward to this moment."  The
voice was strangely familiar but I couldn't identify him.  He continued, "Sir, would you and your
instructors leave us alone for a few minutes.  I assure you I won't touch her except to remove her
blindfold."
     Chet replied, "Okay but no funny stuff.  I'm still responsible for her on these premises."
     A minute later, the blindfold was removed and I was staring at Sam Wheaton, my second
in command at the pharmaceutical company and the guy who most wanted my job.  As I started
to object into my gag, he just smiled and looked over every inch of my bare skin.
     "Before I tell you what has been happening, I want to say that I love seeing you restrained
like the bitch you are, unable to say a word.  Now, your whole staff was happy when you decided
to take a few days off.  Actually your secretary who you used to criticise unmercifully never filed
your application for vacation so you technically became 'absent without leave'.  With her help and
some playing with your personal computer, I found out where you were.  Your boss, the CEO of
the company, was upset when you failed to show up for work but was inclined to keep your
position open.  This changed when our company was acquired my Jayne Drugs, our former
competitor.  Your boss retired and I was made director of the new research group.  Our final ploy
was to convince the owner of your leased home that you had decided to move out of the state. 
We closed your lease and have put your belongings in storage.  All your bills have been paid with
your 'separation pay'."
     "No, no, no," I tried to say into the gag.  I started to struggle against the cuffs and tape
but he stopped this by simply grasping the chain between the nipple clips and giving a little tug.
     "Now before you start planning on getting back at us, I want to explain that you have a
good reputation for getting things done and are obviously able and well educated.  So providing
they don't look at your interpersonal skills, you can probably get a good job somewhere.  I will
provide you with a good recommendation.  But should you try to expose us, I will quickly release
these still pictures taken from this video of you during the past 48 hours."
     I looked at them, aghast that he had them, but at the same time I enjoyed seeing how I
looked.
     "Wish I could stay longer, but I have to get back.  Hope you continue to have fun and
good luck.  Incidentally I suspect that you have learned some lessons."  With that Sam left the
room.
     Chet immediately rushed in full of apologies.  "That bastard somehow has somehow
gotten a lot of distorted information about our training facility.  Although we are legal, he could
make real trouble for us so he blackmailed me into giving him the tapes off the monitors.  I'm real
sorry."  He took the gag out of my mouth and I licked my lips.
     I said, "I guess I don't blame you very much and at this point can't think of a way to
reverse the situation.  Maybe you will have to allow me to stay here a while longer until I decide
what to do."
     "Since I am partly to blame, you certainly can stay here.  There may be a few things you
would lie to explore," Chet said.
     "Such as..."
     "Well you haven't really seen our medieval room, we have a few people who have asked
to be trained as dominants for which we need 'slaves', I have some movies planned which you
could have a role in, and you can always hire out at a very good salary as a slave or bondage
model."
     "Hm, sounds interesting.  In the meantime, I'm tired, sweaty and hot.  How about locking
me back in my cell for a few hours?"
     "Sure, I'll get Barry to get the chains off."
     "No, you can leave them on for now."
 THE END