The Interview (Nurse Joy In Trouble)


The job interview had closed and Joy was making small talk with the one 
remaining panel member. 
They were talking about agency work and how it compared with staff work.

"Depends what you mean.  The money's good and it's great working in different 
areas, but most of the time the shifts are lousy."
'Yeah, but in all the new faces you don't notice it much, do you?"
'You must be kidding, you never get to know any one except on a need to know 
basis."
"Do you want to have a cup of tea before you get off, or is that going to affect 
your plans?"
"That would be nice. Where can you get a cup of tea around here?"
"There's a staff canteen in the next block."
The nurse took off her gloves and unfastened her cape.  She pulled her cap off 
her head and rubbed her hand over her long auburn hair to fluff it up.
'I bet your head matched the rest of you!" said the warder.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
'I mean you look like a natural auburn."
'What's that supposed to mean?" she said again gruffly and as if she didn't 
know.
"Take it however you want.  Do you want that tea or not?"
They walked together round to the other building, two young women, one in 
hospital whites and training shoes, the other in a navy nurse's uniform.  She 
felt good, but conspicuous, especially as she stood at the counter waiting for 
her tea to be poured.
"Let's go over to that table, there - two of my colleagues are sitting there," 
said the woman in white.  The nurse had already noticed the two looking at her.  
Most of the few people in the canteen were dressed in white.  She 
must have stood out well in her navy uniform.  She nodded to the two women as 
they joined them at their table.  They had good figures and good-looking, too, 
around 25 or 26.  She was pleased she hadn't just gone onto her next interview.
"This is one of the applicants for the  Ward S job. I'm treating her to a cup of
tea before she goes off back to Warwick," said the warder in way of explanation.
'What do you girls do here?" she asked them.
'We keep everyone under control," said the blond one of the three.  She looked 
very athletic and bronzed and the nurse felt she liked her the best.
'What type of people have you got here then?" she asked.
'All of sorts really, women and men and they're mostly dangerous," said the
original one of the three.  "There's some real bastards here, that's the only
 way you can describe them, it doesn't matter how tolerant and understanding you 
try to be.  You get to know them and they'll still have you if you turn your 
back too long.  Most of them are violent."
"Really!" the nurse said.  "I can see now why you're all look so fit.  What do 
you do?  Strap them down or something?"
"No," said the blond one, "that's what they need, but humanitarian politicians 
who have never tried to control one of these swine's, have decided that anything 
more than a handcuff belt is inhuman.  You give them an injection, even though 
they nearly kill you while you're doing it!"
"Yes," said the dark one with wide dark eyes, who hadn't yet had much to say.  
"The solitary wing with the lock-ups is unused now, derelict, it's due to be 
pulled down soon.  The inmates just lie in their rooms nowadays dreaming 
pleasant dreams until they get their next injection to start dreaming again.  
They need punishing, not given a treat!  
"It's better than being on holiday and they don't have to wear a uniform like 
this all the time," she said.
"You all look pretty good in it, anyway," said Nurse Joy.  "What was in this 
solitary wing, then?  It sounds a bit like Alcatraz!  "
"It's just like everyone's old-fashioned idea of prisons and mental hospitals," 
said the blond one.  "Do you reckon you can get the keys, Christine?" she asked. 
"We could show her around."
"Oh no, it's all right," said the nurse, "I was just interested.  "I've got to 
get off now anyway."
"OK, we'll come down and see your MG," said the blond one.
The nurse felt a twinge of regret.  She'd have liked to have seen the solitary 
wing.  The thought of patients locked away, away from the light of day, 
prisoners not allowed to decide what they do or where they go, was strangely 
stirring to her.
They went, all four of them, out of the canteen and into the bright sunlight 
towards her car.
"Where is this wing?" she asked.
"Go and see if you can get the keys, Christine, we'll head on down there," said 
the blond one.
"No, it's OK," said the nurse making towards her car.
"You won't get an insiders chance again," said the one called Christine and 
headed away towards the building to get the keys.
"OK, but I've got to get off soon - I don't want to catch the weekend traffic."
The three of them headed down a concrete path past tall buildings with barred 
windows.  If the 'normal' building looked like this, she didn't know what to 
expect of the solitary wing.
They crossed a courtyard and approached a building set back away from the 
others.  There was a noticeable lack of windows in this building, what there 
were, were small.  The door looked normal, just a heavy, locked door.
Here they waited for Christine who soon came towards them from the main 
buildings.
This Christine looked good, too.  She was well-built, nice bust and her 
white uniform fitted her very well, her dark complexion shown off well by the 
white.  She looked dusky and dominant.
"OK, got them, no problem," she explained.
The door was unlocked, just a heavy wooden door, nothing special.  Inside was a 
another door and they waited while Christine found the keys to that, too.  At 
last they were inside.  A long, dingy white corridor stretched away from them, 
dully lit from a wired glass window that ran the width of the corridor in the 
ceiling.  Left and right there were a few doors.  They looked very ordinary, the 
nurse felt disappointed. It wasn't exactly what she had expected.
"This is maximum security?" she asked.
"Don't be impatient," said the young warder who had met her at the gate, 
"we've got lots to show you here."
They went the length of the corridor.  The colours were dingy, perhaps it was 
once dazzling white, but now flakes of paint hung off the walls and the floor 
was gritty and dusty.  The window above had collected the grime and the rain and 
bird-shit reduced the level of light coming in.  The nurse then saw the steel 
bars ahead of her.  Her stomach leaped in excitement.  Things were beginning to 
look more like her idea of prison.
A massive barred gate blocked the corridor from ceiling to floor.  Christine 
pushed an enormous key from the bunch into the lock and turned.  It turned with 
difficulty, but offered no great resistance.  The door pushed open and in they 
went.  It occurred to the nurse that Christine managed to find the right key 
pretty quickly.  She obviously knew her way around.  They left the barred gate 
open and went on a few yards.  At the end of the corridor, leading down to the 
right was some wide rough stone steps.
"Down into the dungeon?" asked the nurse, nervous with anticipation.
"A lot of people have had to be carried down here, struggling and screaming. 
This place had its reputation," said the blond one.
As they went down the steps it got darker and dingier.  One of them switched a 
light on somewhere.  
"Electricity not turned off," she thought.
As the dirty bulb in the equally dirty opaque glass ball in the ceiling did its 
best to light the stairs, she saw a massive steel door in front of her, 
something that looked as though it guarded the entrance to a bank vault.  It had 
two huge locks set in it.  It was panelled metal, set with huge rivets.  The 
dull anthracite grey reminded her of the side of a ship.
"Not easy to break through this one," said Christine as she set herself to the 
locks.
The door swung open.  Its weight was a thing you could see, a massive, slowly 
opening weight that seemed almost unstoppable.  It was about six inches thick, 
like a bank door.
"We'll close this to get the atmosphere," said Christine and pushed the door 
shut using all of her weight.  The door thudded into the opening.  A lock 
clicked shut.
"Just imagine being a prisoner, your hands cuffed behind your back, hearing that 
sound.  You'd know you'd reached the point of no return!" said the blond one 
dramatically.
In front of them were thick steel bars, like upstairs with a door set in them.  
Without hesitating, Christine again produced the right keys and they went 
through.
"All along this corridor, on both sides are the cells," said the warder from 
the gate.
The nurse looked.  Massive steel doors, bolted and riveted, locks set in the 
walls to the side of them, were spaced out on both sides of the dingy corridor.  
The light came from naked bulbs set in wire mesh holders in the ceiling.  It was 
hardly adequate.
"Has anyone ever escaped from here?" asked the nurse.  She hoped no one had.  
The idea of strong, violent patients, imprisoned under ground behind these heavy
doors with no hope of escape appealed to her.
"No chance," said Christine.  "Don't forget that nearly everyone in these cells 
was getting 'special treatment. They were all restrained somehow."
"Restrained?" There was a noticeable moistening in her birth channel. She felt 
her heart pounding in her chest.
"Yeah.  They really had fun down here.  Every kind of restraint was used down 
here.  This place would have had Houdini screaming to be let out!"
"And now it's all gone," said the nurse.
"It's not gone at all," said Christine with a smile.  "Everything's still here." 
She led them to one of the steel doors.  It was already open, just barred.  She 
lifted the steel bar out of its rests and pulled the heavy door open.  From a 
switch outside the door she switched on a light.  A dull bulb set in the ceiling 
behind its mesh shade lit a small room.  Stone walls, whitewashed, now dirty and 
stained.  No window.  The room was not much more than eight feet by four.  Most 
of the floor space was taken up by a bed, or at least a strong metal frame, 
bolted to the floor.  A grimy mattress covered in brown canvas lay set in the 
framework.  Parts of it were darker, obviously the result of sweaty bodies.  
Straps hung from the framework at intervals.
"Want try it out?" asked the blond one.
"You must be joking," the nurse said.  "I don't need tying down!"
"Come on, you're down here now.  Why not try it out, we'll let you up again."
"How do I know I can trust you?" she asked, knowing that she was going to say 
yes eventually.
"You don't, but you can," said the woman who started it all off.
"OK then.  But make sure you let me up again."
Heart pounding and wishing her skirt wasn't so tight she sat down on the bed.  
She felt stupid in front of these three good-looking women but she had to try 
it, she just had to.  Anyway, the three women were obviously not exactly bored.  
They had a grin on their faces.  She felt a moment's doubt, but then lay down on 
her back and lifted her legs up.  All three got to work and expertly started to 
fix her to the framework.  Straps were fastened around her wrists, securing her 
hands either side of her.  As Christine leaned across her to fasten her left 
hand to the metal frame she leaned lightly over the figure lying there.  The 
nurse felt a surge of desire and pushed upwards.  The blond woman was having 
trouble strapping her feet to the end of the bed.
"These clumping ward shoes of yours are making things difficult here," she said. 
The nurse didn't answer.  Her shoes didn't interest her much at that moment.  
Christine had just fastened a two-inch thick strap across her breasts and was 
expertly buckling a thinner one across her throat.
At last the three stepped back. Albeit, in a cell as small as that there wasn't 
much stepping back to be done.  Christine slapped the nurse lightly on the 
thigh.  "OK.  What's your name, by the way?"
"Joy."
"OK Joy.  How do you feel?  You look great lying there.  It suits you!  The 
brown straps make a nice contrast to your navy and white uniform!  Of course 
most are usually strapped down naked, but I bet you never take your uniform off, 
do you?"
Her hand moved up Joy's leg. Coming to rest on the mound within Joy's white 
panties. 
Joy gasped and cleared her throat. "Let me up now, will you, I think I've got 
the feel of it all!"
Before Joy could scream again she said, "Do you remember these?" 
She held up the sheaf of documents that Joy had signed just before she left the 
interview. 
"Well," she went on without waiting for a reply. "You, really should have read 
the small print. Did you know that you had voluntarily committed yourself to the 
hospital under the Mental Health Act? No? I guessed you didn't.
Joy went to speak but was interrupted. 
"Part of what we said at the interview about the needed for you to take part in 
an assessment program is true but the conditions are...... how can I say, more 
intensive and proactive than normal."
Joy bucked against the bed restraints with no affect apart from a slight 
creaking from the brown leather.
"Bitch!" Joy spat out.  "You bitches, undo me now!"
"Temper, temper." Said Christine, as she made a note on the clipboard she was 
carrying. "I'll ignore that little out burst this time but be warned next time 
you will be suffer!"
It was said with such effect that Joy fell still and silent. Joy looked into her 
dark eyes and felt something she didn't understand. It was a stirring inside 
her, an erotic feeling, tinged with a hint of fear.  She knew that she had never 
felt like this before, in the presence of anyone.   
"I'll start you assessment now," she said.
She moved forward until she was standing right up against the edge of the frame. 
She unbuttoned the front of her white tunic to free one very fine breast not 
inhibited by a bra.  She knelt forward until her breast was only an inch from 
Joy's face.  "Lick it," she said.
Joy almost crossed her eyes trying to look at the nipple so close to her nose.  
"I'm not a lesbian," she said weakly.  "I don't do things like that."
"Every woman is a lesbian," replied Christine sweetly.  "Most simply don't know 
it yet.  Lick it."
Joy looked up into the dark eyes above her.  For a few seconds she seemed to be 
uncertain what to do.  Then she repeated, "I'm not a lesbian." 
"You have just earned yourself a punishment." Christine's voice wasn't angry, 
just firm.  From her pocket she drew two small metal devices. 
"Know, what these are?"
"Yes, they are Hoffman gate clips or tubing clamp," Joy replied.
Her hand went into her pocket and withdrew a Swiss Army knife on a chain.  Joy's 
heart thudded fast as she opened it and she saw the blade gleam in the light.  
She took hold of Joy's uniform with one hand and pulled.  The buttons popped 
off, one by one, until the front was open.  She pulled the material open to 
expose Joy's lacey white bra, and then she used the sharp blade to cut across to 
each sleeve top.  In a few seconds Joy's uniform was lying on the bed, cut and 
ripped beyond usefulness.  Without bothering to unhook the exposed bra in the 
back, she sliced each strap from Joy's shoulders and then cut easily through the 
centre of the bra between Joy's breasts.  The bra sprang open exposing two 
round, firm mounds of female flesh. 
For a while she just looked at Joy's breasts. Joy couldn't read the expression 
on her face.  Perhaps it was lust, perhaps something else.  In the past, Joy had 
been happy to see a man looking at her body with lust in his eyes, it was 
exciting and it made her feel proud.  But here and under these circumstances 
there was shame and nothing she could do anything about it. Her breasts, large, 
beautiful, firm pair that any woman would be proud to have.
With a sigh, she reached for Joy's tights and used that razor sharp blade to 
slice the material from her legs. Then it was Joy's panties, quickly cut away, 
leaving her clad only in brown locking leather straps. She could feel the tingle
inside at being exposed to a strange woman and she could be in a lot of trouble.
Christine gathered up the nurse's uniform and tossed it by the door.  Then she
put the knife away. Joy breathed a sigh of relief.  At least she wasn't going to 
cut her up right then.  For a while she did nothing, just eyeing Joy's 
restrained body.
"Nice," she said as she picked up the board again and wrote, 'Breasts, natural 
no artificial enhancement. You need a shave between your legs though." 
She teased one of Joy's nipples until it was hard and standing out, then she 
placed one device over it and screwed down the top.  The small, vice like clamp,
with its two small metal bars closed and bit.
"Ouch!" Joy whined.  "That hurts."
Without comment, Christine teased then clamped the other nipple, evoking a 
similar cry of distress from the restrained nurse.
"You'll stay with these on all night," she said as she straightened.
"They hurt.  I won't be able to sleep."
"If you can't sleep, then you can't.  Too bad.  But they stay on." Christine 
reached down and twisted each screw another half turn.  Joy winced and looked on 
the verge of tears.
"OK Joy. How do you feel? You look great lying there. It suits you! The brown 
straps make a nice contrast with your skin!  Of course I forgot to warn you that 
most are usually strapped down naked."
"Let me up now, will you, I've got the feel of it all!"
"I'll see you in the morning," said Christine as she backed out of the cell.  
"Oh, Joy, struggle a bit, get the feel properly.  Just imagine some bastard 
carried screaming and writhing down here.  Just imagine how she'd feel as the 
door is locked on her.  Tell you what, we'll just leave you here to think about 
it all."
They started out the door.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing?  Hey, Christine, you lot. Hey, come back 
here!
They were outside now.  Joy strained at the neck strap and shouted as the door 
was swung shut.  She'd never heard such an ominous sound as the clang the metal 
door made as they slammed it shut.
She heard bolts drawn across and a clashing sound as the bar was pulled down.  
She could hear the women talking and laughing as they locked the door.  A wave 
of panic swept over her.  What the hell did she let herself get into situations 
like this for? Her nipples hurt.  She pulled at the straps without much 
optimism.  She could hardly move at all.  She looked down her body and that with 
great difficulty, the strap cut into her neck if she pulled too hard.  She could 
see the thick belt going around her chest just above her breasts.  The silver 
buckle was sitting at the top of her cleavage.  The leather strap was held 
around her, a huge prong going through a huge hole.  It was so near to her face, 
not a foot away but there was nothing she could do about it.  Her arms were 
strapped at the wrists and elbows.  She could feel an equally thick belt holding 
her down at the waist.  How many straps immobilised her legs she didn't know, 
she couldn't see that far.
She pulled and twisted, she struggled and writhed, she used her knowledge of 
escape-artistry she'd read about to contract muscles and relax.  She got no-
where, just as the dozens of others who had stained the mattress with their 
struggles had got nowhere before her.
After fifteen minutes that seemed like a year to Joy, the trap view hole in the 
door opened.  
One of the women looked in.
"Christ", she thought as she looked in, "this Joy sure looked good in this 
helpless state." She saw Joy laying there pulling and twisting, she could feel 
the tension in the straps as the girl did her best to free herself as she 
writhed, The chrome clamps on Joy's breasts reflecting the dull light from 
above.  Joy pulled against the throat strap and saw her.
"Hey, you girls, come off it, let me out!  Hey you bitches!"
With relief, Joy heard all the bolts and locks being opened.  She felt a wave of 
fresh air as the door was opened.
"Well, Joy!  How are you getting on then?" asked the woman from the canteen. 
"Don't think you'll ever make a second Houdini!"
"Untie me, will you!"
Joy tried to sound as if everyone was having fun together, but she was worried, 
turned on, but worried.
Monica leaned across her like she had done while strapping her.  This time she 
laid her hand flat on Joy's crutch and massaged lightly.
Joy strained upwards against her bonds and thought she was going to come.
Strapped down like that and with this good looking women bent over her, she felt 
as though she couldn't take it much more.  In front of these three girls she was 
going to come like never before.
"Stop please!" she said softly through gritted teeth.  She could smell the 
woman's perfume or deodorant or whatever, just as heady as the woman wearing it.  
She had noticed the blond girl as being the one she thought she was on the same 
wavelength with, but this Christine was pure woman, cute and teasing.
Just before the accident happened, Christine released her pressure.  "Come on," 
she said, "you've got lots more to see, yet!"
She reached over and started unstrapping Joy's hands. The blond girl was working 
on her ankles and legs.  The straps fell down from the bed, the locks clanking
on the frame.  Joy sat up and unscrewed the clamps. She massaged her thighs, she 
flexed her fingers and bent her wrists back and forth. She reached and removed 
the clips from her breasts, gasping as the blood supply returned. She rubbed her 
nipples tying to aid her circulation. 
"You're bitches, you know that?  You had me worried there!"
"Oh come off it!" said the girl from the canteen, you were tied down for a total 
of twenty minutes.  People have spent long, cold days lying there, without 
clothing to protect them from anything they need to be protected from!"
"You know my name, what're yours, then?" Joy asked.  "I know yours is 
Christine."
"Tammy," said the blond one.
"Rebecca," said the girl who'd got her to accept the cup of tea.
"Want to see more?" asked Christine.
"Might as well," Joy replied, "have you got a gown I can put on? I take it my 
uniform is no good? 
Christine produced a hospital gown and helped Joy into it.
"Thanks, but don't mess me around like that again."
"We just wanted you to know what it's all like, Joy!"
They left the cell and went out into the corridor.  Joy wondered what the other 
cells had to offer.
"Over here's the storeroom," said Rebecca and headed towards the doors up the 
corridor.  She opened the only normal looking door in the whole place.  All four 
of them went over.
"Here, how about trying this, Joy?" She offered a thick belt like attraction 
with handcuffs involved in it.
"What is it?" asked Joy.
"A handcuff belt.  Come here."
Rebecca reached around Joy's slim waist and put the thick, brown leather belt 
backward around her waist.  The belt, nearly a quarter of an inch thick, had 
slits cut in it where holes would be on an ordinary belt. Rebecca pushed one of 
the slits over a metal loop sticking off of the other part, and then she passed 
a padlock through the loop.  It clipped shut.
Joy pulled at the belt cinching her hospital gown at the waist.  It sat snugly 
in place.  Rebecca took one of Joy's hands and snapped it into the handcuff 
riveted to the belt at the side.  Joy got the idea and obligingly slipped her 
left hand into the cuff on the other side of the belt.  Rebecca made sure the 
cuff was fastened well.
"Once more a prisoner!" said the nurse.  "I'm getting to enjoy this!  "Joy 
stood there, a figure clothed in a white hospital gown and no panties, the wide 
brown belt contrasting and around her waist, the steel cuffs around her wrists 
shining dully in the dim light.
"How about these for your legs? " asked Tammy, holding out a heavy pair of 
manacles.
"Or this would really suit you well!" said Christine.
Joy looked at Christine standing just inside the storeroom holding something 
made of leather in her hands.  Straps hung to the floor.
"What is it?" asked Joy, having a good idea.
"Strait-jacket," said Christine and looked Joy directly in the eye.
"You're joking, let me have a look," said Joy.
Christine came out of the storeroom to where the chained nurse was standing.  
She held the straitjacket in front of her, a formidable looking garment made of 
thick dark brown leather.  It seemed to be reinforced with black leather at 
different points although Joy couldn't exactly see where, the way it was hanging 
from Christine's outstretched arms.  The long sleeves hung to the floor and the 
straps from them twisted around like a coiled snake.  There seemed to be straps 
and buckles hanging from every part of the jacket.
Joy's crutch began to throb.  She loved leather, the smell, touch, and the 
strength. Her fanny moistened with excitement.
"Take that handcuff belt off her, Rebecca, this is more her style," said 
Christine.  There was a determined look in Christine's eyes.  All the time she 
spoke she looked Joy directly in the eyes and held the straitjacket out in front 
of her as though it was just waiting to encase the nurse.
Rebecca was fumbling with the key to the left-hand cuff.
"I don't want to be put in that!" said Joy, lying.  She had always wanted to 
try a straitjacket since she had seen an escape artist get out of one at a fete.  
She had only been about twelve then, but the thought of wearing a jacket that 
held you prisoner had haunted her ever since.  The escape artist had worn a 
flimsy affair of white canvas, but even that had evoked Joy's imagination.  Now 
she stood before a good looking woman, piercing her with cold, grey eyes, 
threatening her with a punishment jacket, not of canvas, not flimsy and 
ineffectual, but a complicated affair of thick leather.
"I don't want to be bundled up like a madwoman!" Joy said, trying to sound 
convincing.  Rebecca had freed her hands and was unlocking the padlock holding 
the belt around her waist.
"Come on, Joy!  " said Christine.  "Take your punishment like a woman.  It's 
leather, your material, the straps and buckles will go nicely with your 
complexion.
"I'll try it on, but just to see what it feels like," said Joy.  She felt dry in 
the mouth, her legs felt weak and her heart was pounding with anticipation.  
Christine came up to her holding the jacket threateningly.
Christine held the jacket at the collar and Joy tremblingly pushed her hands 
into the sleeves.  She immediately noticed the thickness of the leather, supple 
from lots of previous use.  It was well worn, it was extremely shiny in parts 
and in places it was darker in colour where the prisoner had sweated and 
strained.  The thought of being encased in what had held many prisoners turned 
her on even more.  Her fanny was nearing busting point.
Expertly, Rebecca pulled at the jacket from behind and Joy's hands reached the 
ends of the sleeves but stayed encased in the closed ends.  Black leather was 
sewn over the brown at the ends of the sleeves.  Her hands were behind several 
thickness of leather; her fingers deprived of their right to feel.  She was 
reminded of the time when she'd put on her brother's boxing gloves. She had 
pulled both of the laces on the boxing gloves into a knot with her teeth.  She 
couldn't get the gloves off and had this same feeling of having hands that were 
useless.  She noticed the elbows were also reinforced in the same way.  A black 
leather yoke went across her chest and a wide black leather strip was riveted to 
the front leading down to the crutch.  Rebecca had started to strap the jacket 
up at the back.  Christine was holding Joy at the elbows as if she was going to 
make some desperate effort to escape.  Tammy was standing near, a grim smile on 
her face, enjoying the scene.
As strap after strap was pulled through the buckles, Joy felt the jacket enclose 
and imprison her tighter and tighter.  She looked down at the jacket she was 
allowing herself to be restrained in.  Suddenly she saw Rebecca's hand come 
through her legs under her crutch. She began teasing Joy's sex with her fingers,
toying with it, sending tingles racing along the nerve pathways into her body.
"NO," begged Joy.  "Please don't do that to me. I'm not that way."
"Silly girl," said Christine.  "Wouldn't you like some pleasure?"
Joy's answer was a simple, "No!"
As Rebecca teased her pussy, Joy moaned and tried to force her body to ignore 
the signals of sexual excitement being sent from her loins.  It was a loosing
battle.  A woman's body will always betray her for it knew instinct far better 
than it knew logic.  The heat grew and with it all the other signs of sexual 
arousal, the breathing, the flush about her neck and face, the secretion of 
lubricating juices within her vagina.  Rebecca knew what she was doing and
played Joy like an instrument.  The restrained girl could not control what was 
happening to her, or what was happening inside her.  Soon enough she was moaning 
and it wasn't from pain. Almost immediately Joy was crying out louder and her 
hips swaying back and forth.  
Rebecca backed off and smiled.  "See," she said, "there is pleasure in both 
giving and receiving." Joy was oblivious to what was going on and didn't even 
register Rebecca ask for some knickers for her. When she finally came down she 
found that they had put her in a nappy and plastic knickers.
"Hey, what are these for? I don't need sanitary protection". 
"Correct you don't but they are standard issue to anyone being restrained where 
they can't use there arms and as a side benefit the thick padding will stop you 
being tempted to masturbate."
Rebecca's again searching fingers found their target, this time the wide leather 
strap hanging between her legs and pulled it back over Joy's plastic covered 
crotch.  As the strap was pulled through a corresponding buckle at the back, Joy 
jerked as the jacket increased in tension in every part and the strap pressured 
the area between her legs.
Christine let go of her arms and reached around Joy's neck.  Rebecca put the 
strap she was looking for into her hand and she brought it forward and pulled it 
through its buckle, which was on the front of the high collar.  The collar 
reached up to her chin.  She looked Christine straight in the eyes.
Joy had never believed that a straitjacket would be as complete as this.  She 
was totally imprisoned behind leather, the jacket encasing her body completely.  
It was absolute containment.  Often Joy had been conscious of the fact that her 
body was enclosed when she was horse riding in the rain.  Her wet weather riding 
gear didn't leave much of her visible except her eyes, but the feeling of all-
overness was nothing like this.
Christine took a grip on her arms.
"OK.  That's enough," said Joy.  "I've got the feel of it.  I don't want my arms 
fastened."
"Oh, no, nurse man," said Christine.  "You're going all the way." There was a 
vicious look in her eyes.  Tammy stepped forward and gripped an arm; Rebecca 
clenched Joy's shoulders from behind.  Joy struggled and Rebecca's arm slipped 
around Joy's throat, pulling her head back.  Joy let out a cry.
She felt her arms being crossed, left over right, jerked and pulled to their 
extremes.  One of them pushed her elbows together and someone wrenched the 
sleeve strap through the buckle on the other sleeve.  It was done.  Rebecca 
released her headlock.
Joy was straitjacketed!
She looked down at her crossed arms and pulled.  She strained, she tugged, and 
she wriggled.  Her arms remained crossed.
"The way to get out of a strait-jacket," said Tammy, "is to work your arms up 
over your head or down over your hips.  You can forget that idea with this 
jacket; the sleeves go through straps on the side, which stop any up or down 
movement.  No-one has ever escaped from that jacket, and you won't either."
"But you're not going to leave me in it long, are you?" said Joy in a concerned 
voice.
"One more thing to show you," said Rebecca.  "Down here."
"I'm not sure I want to see any more," said Joy.
When Joy refused to walk with them, she was led, her feet hardly on the floor, 
and Tammy who each held her at the elbows.  The strapped figure in leather 
really did look the part of the crazed prisoner being forced along by the two 
coated women.  Christine led the way to the last steel door of the corridor.  
She opened bolts and locks and opened the door in readiness for the struggling, 
protesting prisoner. As Joy saw in this cell, she gasped.  The walls and floor 
were padded!  "No, no, please!" cried Joy, "not in there!"
She pushed backwards against the two holding her.  She bit her heels into the 
ground but there's not much resistance to be offered with your arms strapped 
around body.
"Come on Joy," said Tammy, "be a good girl.  It's all nice and cosy in there!"
They half lifted Joy.  She noticed one of them was taking the opportunity to put 
a hand between Joy's legs.  She kicked backwards and felt her heel clunk against 
someone's shin.  She heard a cursing reaction from Rebecca and was at the same 
time propelled into the padded room.  Her feet sank into the soft floor and she 
pitched into the opposite wall.  Her face thumped into the canvas padding and 
she slid down to the floor, her head bent back, her face being scratched by the 
rough canvas. With a great effort she rolled over to face her captors.
They looked at Joy lying there, half propped-up against the padded wall.  She 
even better looking when angry, an untamed, resistant look on her face. 
Perspiration had formed on her brow.  The layers of leather were having an 
effect.  She looked in the battered brown leather strait-jacket.  The high 
collar, buckled at front, the whole jacket proving that she had a good, strong 
figure.  She lay there in her punishment jacket, her arms strapped immobile 
around her body as though she was intent on bear-hugging himself to death. One 
of her legs was bent at the knee, her other stretched out before her resting on 
the canvas padding.  She looked down at her padded loins and tried to free 
herself again. If she hadn't been tied in the humiliating restrain, she would 
have taken all three em on at once.
"Have fun, Joy," said the blond Tammy, "don't come in your rubbers, Joy, you 
can't wash them!"
"Get me out of here, you bitches!" They were closing the padded door.
"HHEEEYY," she screamed and as the door closed she noticed the strength went out 
of her voice, there was no resonance in it anymore, the padded walls absorbed 
the sound.
The silence was tangible.
The cell was so small.  It was long enough for her to lie out from door to 
opposite wall but in the other direction she would have to sit with her legs up.  
There was nothing cell, except a girl strapped helplessly in leather.  She 
looked at the walls.  They bulged in on him from all directions, big soft 
squares, big canvas-covered buttons hammered into the padding at every corner.  
The floor swelled up to meet the walls everything was white, a dirty filthy 
white, there were stains all over.  The door was also padded in great long 
sausage like strips, the padding interrupted by a viewing hole set deep in the 
soft material.
The light came from a solitary bulb set high up in the ceiling behind a metal 
mesh.  The ceiling wasn't padded, just covered with grimy whitewash.  Joy 
couldn't believe it, a couple of hours ago she was sitting in an office being 
interviewed and now here she lay, strapped in a strait-jacket on the floor of a 
padded cell!
By pushing with her legs, by digging her feet in the canvas floor, she managed 
to push herself up into a sitting position.  Things were different in here.  
There was no resistance.  She pushed with her back to slide up the wall a bit 
and instead she sank in! There were no real corners in this room, everything was 
rounded off, padded out, softened down to stop people hurting themselves, to 
stop prisoner's screams and shouts being heard, to make escape from a strait-
jacket an impossibility.  She could hear everything muffled, the creaking of her 
leather covering and crackling of her plastic knickers as she pushed herself 
upwards without being able to use her arms.
She refused to panic.  The girls would be back soon, but even so, escape artists 
all over the world got out of strait-jackets every weekend, at fetes, at 
charity' dos'.  But, weren't they just loose white canvas affairs?  Weren't they 
usually without a crutch strap biting between your legs?  Weren't they without 
straps at the sides, holding the strapped sleeves in position?  She must stop 
this line of thinking or she'd just start pulling and wearing herself out.  She 
looked down at the jacket holding her.  Dark brown leather.  She looked at the 
black leather yoke riveted to the jacket in a semi-circle under her chin.  That 
would stop her biting her way out!  Biting her way out!  Even if the thick 
collar allowed her to get her  head down low enough she'd have tooth-less, 
bloody gums before she started making an impact on these layers of leather.  She 
looked at the wide strip of black leather with it's shiny rivets that went from 
the yoke downwards.  It disappeared behind her strapped arms to the bottom of 
the jacket to become the crotch strap.  And there were her arms, neatly folded, 
nicely crossed in their greasy brown leather sleeves that were slick at the 
elbows.  Reinforced at the elbows to stop her rubbing against the rough bricks 
until a hole was worn, a hole that she could pour out of if she were a liquid, a 
hole that she couldn't make anyway on soft padded walls.  There were her arms, 
folded in front of her.  She was naked under the jacket and it was rubbing her 
still sore. All she'd do is bring his arms forward, she'd take the jacket off, 
she'd open the door and walk out to her car.  She pulled.  Somewhere out of her 
sight below her elbows, the sleeves carried round, no zippered cuffs and gloved 
hands, but closed, riveted, reinforced sleeves that went tightly around her 
waist to be strapped at the back along with all the other straps that she 
couldn't see.
She decided to get to her feet.  She pushed herself into the padded wall she was 
leaning against and wriggled her way upwards until eventually she was in the 
standing position.  Life didn't look any better from up there either.  She tried 
the rational and logical approach to extracting herself from the jacket.  She 
shrugged her shoulders backwards and forwards to work slack into the sleeves, 
she wriggled her arms upwards towards her shoulders.  She had moved them about 
two inches up from her waist when the side straps stopped her getting any 
further.  She contorted herself to try the same thing downwards over her full 
hips but after a promising couple of inches she just met with resistance.  She 
tried bracing her elbow against the wall to get some leverage but her elbow just 
sank in, indenting the padding like the buttons holding it in place.  She was
Beginning to get warm now, why had they put her in rubbers?  She could feel the 
bulk and plastic between her legs and she kept sliding down the wall, as the 
plastic did not grip the canvas.  Her whole body was wet and perspiration 
trickled down from her forehead, working its way through her eyebrows and into 
her eyes causing them to sting.  She wiped her face on the padding, realising 
what the source of a lot of the other stains were.
She sank onto one knee.  This place was starting to drive her mad, everything 
rounded off, even the floor was like walking on a sponge, like trying to stand 
steady on a trampoline.  She pushed her elbow against her knee; at least here 
she could get a bit of solid leverage.  She tipped over.  She rolled over onto 
her back.  In a straitjacket, a padded cell, straitjacket!  Straitjacket!  No 
one has ever got out of that jacket and you won't either.  No one.  Ever!  
Joy pulled at the sleeves with all her strength, she violently rolled over, she 
shook right and left, she wriggled, she kicked out with her legs, she pushed on 
her shoulders and pushed her legs up the wall, all the time trying to free her 
arms, to get some movement into the sleeves so tightly strapped to her body.  
She screamed screams of frustration.  With every contortion the crutch strap bit 
into plastic covered and padded crotch. She could not get any direct pressure on 
the area where she need, the sensations making her arch her head backwards. More 
screams of frustration. The heavily strapped collar made red welts under her 
chin, sweat dripped and flew off her to lie and slowly soak in to the dirty 
canvas floor.  The veins stood out in her neck, her face was flushed, her teeth 
ground together as she wrestled in the leather restraint.  The straitjacket 
creaked as the leather was twisted this way and that, her knickers rusted as her 
legs rubbed against each other as they went into violent motion to offer support 
to the straining arms.
She struggled.  She fought.  She wrestled.  She strained.  She tugged and 
pulled.  Finally, with a loud scream of anger and deep frustration, Joy fell 
onto her imprisoned arms and let the sweat pour off her into the deep wells 
where the padding was hammered to the floor.  She was hot, she was on fire, she 
was boiling.  Only her head and legs were not encased.  Only her face could 
breathe.  The trickles of sweat ran through her hair and stung her eyes, which 
she could only open to slits.  If only she could wipe her face on her sleeve, 
run her fingers through her long matted hair.  If only she moved her fingers a 
little in their thick, unyielding sleeves.
"Help me, someone.  Come back you girls.  Christine?" she said aloud to the 
padded walls.  They drank the sound up.  She started to doze.
Some sound woke her up.  She tried to focus her eyes on the padded floor an inch 
or so from her face.  She felt clammy, damp and cold.  Where was she?  A split 
second later as she tried to get up it all came back to her and she realised 
that she was still very, very much a prisoner.  With effort and with a lot of 
digging her feet into the canvas, she managed to roll over.  One of her arms was 
numb and tingling, she tasted blood in her mouth and the ache told her she'd 
bitten her tongue.
Until the door opened, she hadn't realised anyone was outside, her little world 
consisted of her heartbeat in her ear, the sounds of her breathing and the 
creaking of her leathers.
The three girls were there, looking at her in her plight, lying there on the 
soft floor.  They were still in their white uniforms. But it was Christine who 
made Joy's heart beat faster. Christine looked so good, so good-looking, looking 
down at her with a smirk on her face, a vicious look of enjoyment at the plight 
of the bound young woman.
"How are you doing, Joy?" asked Tammy.  "Still wearing your jacket I see.  How's 
it been in this soft little room?  Have you had a good roll-around?  Have you 
made a stain in you plastic knickers, girl?"
"Boy, am I pleased to see you girls!  " said Joy in a flippant tone, ignoring 
Tammy's jibing.  I really thought you'd left me that time!"
"How do you like that jacket, Joy?" asked Christine.  "You sure look good in 
it!" She smiled at Joy who felt a stirring down deep as this woman teased her.
"Take if off me, now," said Joy simply.
"Oh, Joy," said Rebecca.  "You haven't really caught on, have you?  We're giving 
you the full treatment.  There's far more to come.  Tonight you keep the jacket 
on, tomorrow for a bit of variety we're going to give you a wet-sheet pack.  
You'll like that, Joy.  Wrapped and strapped from head to toe in tight wet 
sheets.  Tight wet sheets that get tighter and tighter as they dry out.  We'll 
have you gasping there, Joy.  Then we thought you could spend the night in this 
cell again, you know, make it your home, but for variety you could wear a full-
length punishment suit.  That's fun, your hands will be strapped to your sides 
dear Joy, and it's fun struggling in that because it's made of oiled, greasy, 
dirty canvas and will cling to you where ever it touches.  We've read great 
reports about that suit, Joy.  Strong, young men crying to be let out, broken 
and deprived of movement.  We're going to break you, Joy. You're going to beg 
and cry to be let out, Joy, and only we'll hear you in here, Joy.  Who knows 
what you'll do to get free?" She laughed.  Christine didn't look so comfortable.
"You bastards!" screamed Joy and wrenched in her prison.  "Bitches like you will 
never break me.  I'd die first." Joy realised she was challenging them.
"We'll see!" said Tammy.  "Listen!" she continued, "there are a few rules to 
this game you've got yourself into.  We'll keep you well fed, we'll make sure 
you're not in pain and we'll make sure that your nappies don't fill up with 
shit.  You look so good in that leather, Joy, - we'd hate to spoil it!"
"But, what," started Joy.
"Shut your mouth, Joy!" shouted Rebecca.  "We've got adhesive bandage so strong 
here that you'll never open your mouth again if we wind it around your head.  
It'll rip your hair out!"
"Now Joy," continued Tammy, "to let you shit we've got to take you out of here 
to a nice little specially-design toilet down the corridor.  You either co-
operate and be a good girl or you get this." She held up a syringe in front of 
her.  "This'll knock you out for half an hour or so.  What's it gonna be, Joy?  
Do you want to pee like a nice little girl or do you want to be put to sleep?  
The choice is yours.  You can also choose
Your nappy with shit, if you want, but none of us will come in here to feed a 
stinking spit!
Joy strained defiantly in her straitjacket.
"The choice is yours, Joy," said Tammy coming towards her with the needle.
"OK, OK, "shouted Joy.  "You will not need that, but get me to the toilet quick 
I'm bursting!  "
Tammy and Rebecca lifted Joy, each taking an elbow.  They pulled her up to her
feet.	Christine just watched and stroked the out line of her right nipple.
Joy started to walk hesitantly between them, her legs feeling soggy on the 
floor.  There was hardly room for the three of them in the cell, Rebecca and 
Tammy pushed into the soft walls.  When Joy got onto the firm ground of the 
corridor it felt like a sailor going onto land after six months at sea.  Solid 
ground!  She walked between them down the corridor held tightly by the two young 
women.  Christine walked in front of them, looking just as good in her uniform 
from behind as from the front.  Christine unlocked a door and reached in to put 
on the light.  A dirty bathroom was revealed, walls and floor covered with grimy 
white tiles, most of them cracked, crazed or chipped. There was a bath to one 
side, not a normal bath, but very long and shallow, along its length metal 
staples for anchoring straps were set in the scale-covered enamel.
"This is where we'll wrap you in wet sheets tomorrow, Joy," said Tammy, "then 
we'11 carry you dripping to a cell where the floors covered with PVC sheeting to 
dry. Incidentally, Joy, we had a look at your riding oilskins in your car boot.  
Quite a collection you've got their, Joy.  Top to toe in black, shiny PVC eh?  
You're quite into black and shiny, aren't you?  We thought for a bit of light 
refreshment we could you dressed up in your oilskins, keep you in them with a 
handcuff belt and manacles then turn the fire hose on you!  The possibilities 
are endless, Joy!"
Tammy rested her hand on Joy's shoulder in a we're-all-friends-together kind of 
way and flashed Joy an endearing smile!  Joy found Tammy's teasing and jeering 
irritating, but at the same time a turn on.  She spat in Tammy's face, a defiant 
sneer on her face.  Saliva struck Tammy's cheek and the side of her nose.  
Tammy's reaction was immediate.  She became vicious and grabbed Joy's hair, 
jerking her head backwards. Joy let out a stifled cry at the speed of the 
onslaught. 
"Don't do things like that, Joy," she snarled through clenched teeth, or you'll 
yourself tied in this jacket so tightly that you'll slowly suffocate to death." 
She grabbed the strap around Joy's collar and jerked it through the buckle three 
holes. She let go of Joy's hair and Joy immediately started to choke and gasp, 
already going red in the face.  Christine stepped in, pushing Tammy aside.  She 
grabbed the buckle at Joy's throat and loosened it back to its original 
position.  Joy coughed convulsively.  Rebecca stepped between Tammy and 
Christine and Joy.
"Come on," she said, "get the bitch to the toilet."
On the other side of the tiled room there was a toilet.  Sunk into the floor 
around base of the toilet and into the wall behind were metal staples of the 
kind set into bath.
"Be a good girl," said Rebecca.  "Hold her Christine."
Christine was behind the straitjacketed Joy.  She reached around the strapped 
body and grabbed the opposite elbow with her hand.  Her left arm she put around 
Joy's throat, holding her in a headlock.  Joy felt herself pulled against 
Christine's firm body; her chin and mouth were almost suffocating in the crook 
of Christine's strong arm.  Christine pulled Joy closer to her.  Joy groaned a 
little, her right arm was tingling and over-sensitive from having fallen asleep 
on it.
Rebecca started to reach between Joy and Christine, feeling for the crutch 
strap.  Christine was in her way, but you never hold a patient from the front 
where they could kick you, knee you or butt you with their head.
Joy felt the cutting pressure between her legs fall away.  Then the first two or 
three straps holding the jacket on her were unstrapped.  Joy's arms remained 
strapped around her.  Working from the sides both Tammy and Rebecca felt under 
the straitjacket and started to remove Joy's rubbers.  Joy offered no 
resistance, she was so conscious of Christine, - Christine in her white uniform, 
-Christine holding her, Christine's strong arm wrapped around her neck, 
Christine' face so near to her ear.
The two women had the plastic knickers and nappy pulled down.
"Hey, look at this!  " said Rebecca.  "Her nappy is sopping wet!  It's only 
leather for you, is it, Joy?  There's a vagina like a hotpot here!  Something 
turning you on, Joy?"
Joy made the gesture of a struggle.  Christine tightened the hold on her throat.  
They pushed her over to the toilet, holding the flapping straps away from her.
"Do we have to strap you to the toilet?" asked Tammy.  "How about a nice choking 
little strap around your neck holding you to the wall?"
Joy just shook her head.  She felt humiliated sitting on the toilet with an 
aching fanny being watched by three good-looking women.  Tammy reached between 
Joy's legs, grabbed folds of skin around Joys vagina.  Joy nearly shouted out 
with pain, but she had realised that the way she had been sitting she would have 
peed in a fountain that went everywhere but in the stool.  Eventually her 
bladder slackened off a bit to let her pee in a hard, steady stream.
"That's it," said Joy, "I'm finished." Thank God she didn't need a shit!
"OK, let's get her back," said Christine.
Rebecca dried her off with paper wiping from the rear of her lips to there 
front.  Joy suddenly realised that working in a place like this had bad sides to 
it too.  The romantic image of beefy prisoners in barred cells wasn't often the 
real one.  These three girls had to make sure they stayed clean, too.
They had Joy's plastic knickers and nappies back in place and the strait-jacket 
fully buckled on her again within a couple of minutes.  Joy didn't struggle.  
She didn't want to be injected, to be knocked out by the needle that Rebecca had 
put in her pocket.  Apart from that, she was waiting for the right moment. 
Although strapped up hopelessly in the leather jacket, Joy wasn't going to give 
up hope.
They led her back towards the padded cell.  Joy noticed Tammy give Christine a 
nod and Christine slipped off towards the storeroom.  The two women pushed Joy 
back into her padded room so suddenly and with such force that Joy stumbled on
the soft floor and fell forward.  She landed on her knees and pitched forward on 
her face, the straitjacket stopping her putting out her arms to block her fall.  
She pushed with her feet into the floor and turned herself over only to see 
Christine back holding a hand full of straps.
"We've got to bed you down for the night!" said Christine, passing over the 
leather strap to Tammy who was nearest to Joy.
Rebecca worked up beside the girl lying there helpless in leather.  She took one 
of the straps from Tammy and worked it around her legs just above the knees.  
Joy tried to work her legs apart, but Tammy gripped her ankle and pulled her 
feet together.  Joy put a bit of a struggle by twisting to the left but it was 
obvious that they'd get their way with her already confined in a strait-jacket.  
Swiftly and expertly, further straps were added by the girls around her legs 
below the knees, around the ankles and around foot soles.  Christine looked on 
from the doorway of the cell.  There weren't enough room four people in the 
padded hole.  Christine and Joy looked each other in the eye.  Joy brave 
defiance, Christine with a look of amused scorn.  How good Christine looked in 
white there in the weak light.  Rebecca said something, Tammy looked at her 
momentarily and Joy saw her chance. Throwing her weight backward, she kicked 
backward with her strapped legs.  Her heel caught Tammy straight in the face and 
she flew backwards against the padded doorframe and against Christine's legs.  
Christine nearly fell out into the corridor, too.
Tammy looked up, blood already running from a gash across her cheek.  For a 
moment she half-sat, half-lay, half in and half out of the padded cell.  Then, 
she sprang life with a hiss that was pure anger.  She pulled himself up by 
holding onto the door frame, fell backwards as her fingers failed to grip the 
padding properly, but then she on top of the strapped figure in leather, lying 
totally bound on the floor.
She was so enraged she didn't manage to even speak coherently.  Joy twisted 
pathetic attempt to get out of the way but Tammy leaped on her, landing with her 
knees on Joy's strapped arms.  Joy let out a cry of pain, stifled by the blow 
that hammered into her face.  Yet another thump landed in her nose and she saw 
the stars everyone is supposed to see when hit.  She was scared, paralysed in 
her restraints, battered by someone whose face was distorted wild rage, someone 
who belonged in the madman's jacket that she had no choice but wear.
Just as Tammy's fist drew back for another punch, Joy became aware of Christine 
grabbing around Tammy's head with her arms and jerking Tammy back.  Tammy turned 
her anger on Christine, lashing back backwards, digging his elbow into 
Christine's thigh muscle, which was on her level.  Christine felt her leg go 
numb although at the same time wave of pain travelled upwards.  She had the 
advantage of standing.  She thumped with a clenched fist and landed Tammy a 
hefty thump on the ear with its golden earring.  Tammy screamed with pain. Joy 
felt her breath being crushed out of her by the weight of the two women fighting 
top of her.
Rebecca grabbed Christine's uniform almost pulling it up over her head.  
Christine lashed backward catching Rebecca directly in the breasts.  Rebecca 
just dropped to the soft floor clutching her chest, her face distorted with 
pain, trying to draw a breath. Rebecca's intervention had given Tammy the chance 
to twist around.  A clenched fist hammered into Christine's jaw, her teeth 
slammed together and she bit through her tongue. Blinding pain caused her to 
throw her full weight onto Tammy.  The two of them were lying on top of Joy who 
was rapidly slipping towards unconsciousness.
Just as Christine pulled herself upwards, preparing to thump Tammy hard in her 
solarplexus, she let out a scream.  Rebecca had rammed the hypodermic like a 
dart into her. Christine looked around and started towards Rebecca who backed 
away.  Things had gone too far.  Tammy and Christine had no control over 
themselves any more, just animals lashing out at each other, intent on doing 
harm.  Christine made one step towards Rebecca and then her eyes crossed a 
little, her knees sagged, her uniformed body became boneless and she sank 
backwards and lay motionless across the strapped legs of the imprisoned agency 
nurse, her eyes open, staring unseeing up at the bare light bulb.
"Fucking hell!" said Tammy, "Fucking, fucking hell!" She looked up at Rebecca 
who was standing looking down at Christine, still holding the syringe in her 
hand.  Both women looked white and shaken.  Tammy's hand went up to the slash 
across her face, she felt her nose, she rubbed her stomach.  She tried to get up 
from beside the nearly unconscious Joy and get over the prostrate woman lying 
across.  Rebecca sank to her knees again.  She felt sick from the blow to her 
breasts that Christine had delivered her.
After a few minutes they recovered enough to talk.  Joy's eyes were flickering, 
Christine was out cold.
"It's all gone too far," said Rebecca, "let's let that guy out, get him out of 
here and do something for Christine.  It's a good thing we're off duty, - how 
the hell would we go back over looking like this?" Rebecca choked a bit.
"You're joking!" exclaimed Tammy.  "You must be fucking joking!  I'm not letting 
this bitch get away with that!" She kicked Christine' leg.  Christine didn't 
move.
"Whose side's she on, anyway?  Little feminine Christine, always neat, always 
smelling nice!  It's obvious she feels more loyalty to that leather-covered cunt 
than she does to us.  No, we're not letting anyone go.  Christine is going to 
have a surprise in store for her when she wakes up!"
"Let's leave it, Tammy, please, - something's going to go wrong!"
"Something's already gone wrong.  That cunt attacked me and she's going to get 
what's coming to her.  Go and get another straitjacket!  "
"Oh come on, Tammy, you can't put Christine in a strait-jacket!  " Although as 
she said this, the thought of dusky, Christine wearing a straitjacket interested 
Rebecca strangely!
"I'll go and choose one myself," said Tammy, staggering off of the padded floor 
into the corridor.
Mean while, Rebecca pulled at Christine's uniform and dragged her off Joy's 
strapped legs.  Joy moaned as Christine's weight bent her feet sideways, but she 
didn't open her eyes.  Rebecca tried to prop Christine up against the wall, but 
as she stood astride the slumped figure she fell forwards, losing her balance on 
the padded floor.  It was like scrambling around in a tub full of tennis balls.  
The walls and floors gave under you whenever you pushed!  She grabbed the lapels 
of Christine's white uniform and heaved her up.  Christine sat with her legs 
out, one of her feet resting on Joy's feet; her head slumped down on her chest.
Tammy came back in carrying a leather straitjacket, and nappy and pair of thick 
plastic knickers.
"Found another leather one!" she said, "it's even thicker and heavier than the 
one that cunt's wearing.  This'll teach that good-looking bitch a lesson!'
"Get her striped and the rubbers on!  " Tammy was unstoppable, now, breathing 
deeply and with a glint in her eye.
It took Rebecca a minute or two to get the rubbers on to Christine.  It's not 
easy doing it without the wearer's co-operation.  All the time Tammy
was urging her to get a move on.  When Christine was all padded up in her nappy, 
Rebecca pulled the plastic knickers up her legs.
"Tuck her nappy well in," commanded Tammy.
Rebecca obliged.  Christine' head lolled to one side.  Even without any sign of 
life in her, Christine looked great, her plastic knickers shining dully in the 
light of the madman's cell.
"Right, don't let her get cold!  Let's put this overcoat on her!"
There expertise at restraining violent prisoners enabled them to get the 
straitjacket on the inert Christine.  They got one floppy arm down one of the 
sleeves, they then pushed the other arm into it's casing.  They needed more 
room.  They moved up each side of Joy, stretched out in the middle of the cell 
and, holding an elbow each, they managed to lift her and prop her against the 
padded wall.  Joy groaned and opened her eyes.  She didn't look very alert.  
They turned Christine over and got her lying face down on the floor, her arms 
were in the closed sleeves stretched out in a crucified manner to each side of 
her, the buckles and the straps splaying out in all directions.  Tammy reached 
around Christine's waist and made sure that the waistband of her plastic 
knickers was nice and tight.  Then, kneeling on either side of the prone figure, 
Tammy started to buckle the straps, one by one into their buckles.  The thick 
leather sides were slowly pulled together as strap after strap closed the 
imprisoning garment over Christine's back.
"This'll hold you, you bitch!" said Tammy between her teeth, jerking one of the 
traps to maximum tightness.  She had all the back straps done up now, a row of 
brown leather straps, sewn and riveted to the black jacket.  The blond girl 
groped between the stretched out woman's legs, feeling her taught buttocks 
covered in their nappy and plastic knickers, warm, almost gripping her hand.  
She found the crutch strap pinned under Christine, jerked it through and pulled 
it through the steel buckle waiting for it.  The prong went through the hole.  
Tammy poked the end of the strap through its retainer loop.
"There, you cunt, I hope that's crushed your clit flat!"
The collar was higher than the collar on the straitjacket Joy was lying so 
passively in.  Tammy fastened it with its two straps and Christine' neck was now 
completely enclosed in a high cylinder of leather.
"Help me roll her over!"
Rebecca, who had just been standing, relishing the sight of her friend slowly 
disappearing into helplessness, responded.  They grabbed Christine and rolled 
her over.  She lay on her back; her black leather encased arms lying to each 
side of her.  Rebecca took the strap at the end of one sleeve and started to 
lift Christine' arm across her chest.
"The waist belt, first," said Tammy.
A big thick belt was drawn from under Christine' body and Tammy pulled the end 
through the two-pronged buckle.  She cinched it tight.
Joy was conscious now, and stared at the plight of her leather-covered friend 
that she hadn't yet had the chance to get to know.  The last she had seen of 
Christine she was standing looking magnificent with her white uniform hanging 
open, holding a mass of straps in her hands.  Now here she lay, her eyes closed, 
in a leather jacket studded with rivets, a high collar holding her head at a 
proud angle.  Her hands were in sleeves of leather, well-worn and old, but 
oiled, shiny through the rubbing of the struggles of countless prisoners, each 
mitt reinforced with a piece of riveted leather on which was sewn either the 
buckle or the strap.
"What're you doing to her?" asked Joy groggily.
Tammy leaped across to Joy and slapped her hard across the face.
"Shut up and watch or go back to sleep!" she snarled.
Joy decided she'd get even with this Tammy who she found physically attractive 
but who seemed vicious and dangerous.  But now, lying there, her arms dead and 
crossed around her waist, her naked legs strapped together, she decided she'd 
shut up and watch.
They were binding poor old Christine's arms around her now.  Christine's eyes 
flickered but she wasn't taking in anything yet.  The arm strap was anchored 
into place.  Christine was straitjacketed, deprived of her right to use her 
arms.
"There little Christine!  " Get out of that!  I might take if off you when tears 
course down your pretty face and when you've lost the will to strut around in 
your sexy clothes!  Come on, Rebecca, let's put a set of leg cuffs on her and 
lock them in here.  Let's let them wriggle towards each other and wish they had 
hands to touch each other with!"
"We'd better tape their mouths up," said Rebecca.  "They'll undo each other's 
straps with their teeth, or shall we drag Christine into another padded cell?"
"No," said Tammy.  "I want them together, but with Christine' bleeding mouth and 
her bloody nose, I don't want them with their mouths closed.  They might 
suffocate."
"Why not tie them together?" said Rebecca.
Tammy looked at her sharply, and then slowly a smile crossed her face.
"Good idea, Rebecca!  Fucking good idea!  Unstrap Christine's arms!"
Rebecca did as she was told.  Christine moved one of her arms and the buckle 
jangled.
She was slowly coming around.
Tammy went over to the strapped Joy, and grasped her heels.  Joy pulled back and 
forward a bit but didn't really feel well enough.
"Get off me, you bitch," she exclaimed.
Tammy looked at her and gave one terrific jerk.  Joy came away from the padded 
wall and her body fell out straight on the floor.  There was a quick ripping 
sound as the canvas was caught by one of her straitjacket's buckles.  Together 
they pulled and lifted the semi-conscious Christine over to Joy, only a couple 
of feet but difficult with the young woman.  They lay Christine on her back next 
to Joy, their heads at the same level.
"Let's get this cunt face down on Christine!" said Tammy.
Rebecca didn't quite know what was going on but did as she was told.  They 
gripped the helpless Joy and rolled her over onto Christine.  Christine let out 
a grunt, Christine groaned.  Her arms hurt her.  She attempted to roll off the 
other way but was held back.  Tammy was sitting astride both of them now.
"You'll crush Christine!  " exclaimed Rebecca, but Tammy acted swiftly, pulling 
Christine' arms up from either side of Joy and wrapping them around Joy, as if 
Christine was giving Joy a bear hug.
"Give me one of those straps lying there," he asked Rebecca nodding towards the 
two or three straps lying on the floor of the padded cell.  Sweat was running 
down Tammy's brow.
Rebecca gave her the strap and she buckled it into the strap coming from one of 
Christine' straitjacket sleeves.  This made the strap longer.
"Now we've got to get them on their sides."
Joy said something and wriggled.  Tammy, all tension, just gave a sharp punch 
into Joy's mouth.  Blood formed on her lip, she co-operated.  "Now Rebecca, 
unstrap Joy's arms!" said Tammy.
She grabbed a handful of Joy's hair and pulled it so hard that Joy cried out.  
"Any funny stuff," said Tammy, "and you'll have a raw, very bald patch!"
"Shit, be careful Tammy!" said Rebecca.
"Just do as I say, cunt-face!" snarled Tammy.  Tears were streaming out of Joy's 
eyes.  Blood was appearing at the roots of her hair.
"Don't talk to me like that, you bitch.  Control yourself, your going berserk," 
shouted Rebecca.  Tammy looked at her as if she would hit her but the situation 
was too difficult.  Rebecca unstrapped Joy's arms, the first time in hours that 
Joy had been allowed movement.
"Give your friend a big hug!" said Tammy.
With difficulty Joy worked her numb arm under Christine.  The blood was flowing 
through it now.
"Give me another extension strap, Rebecca.  Come on, you bitch, hurry up!  She 
buckled the strap into the strap on one of Joy's sleeves.
"Rebecca, help me get these straps around each other, - make sure they go 
through the side loops on each jacket."
The straps were strapped around until Joy's arms were strapped up again, the 
sleeve straps with their extensions again strapped behind Joy's back.  The 
difference was that now her arms were strapped around Christine, bear-hugging 
her, holding her in an eternal cuddle.  The leather sleeves of Christine' 
strait-jacket were holding her arms around Joy hugging her tight.  Christine was 
moaning and mumbling and her body wasn't floppy anymore.  Rebecca and Tammy 
rolled Joy onto her back with Christine on top of her.  They wrenched the arm-
straps buckled there, those of Christine' jacket, tighter through the buckle.  
They rolled the couple in the other direction with Joy on top, and tightened the 
straps there.  Now the two were embracing each other with a grip like a vice.  
They rolled them onto their sides.  They undid all the straps around Joy's 
leathered legs and ankles.  Then they pushed one of Christine's legs between 
Joy's and the straps were tightened around all four legs, holding them tightly 
together.
Joy didn't struggle.  She could hardly believe it.  Strapped to Christine, their 
faces inches apart.
Tammy got up and admired her handy work.
"Now you two ladies!  Enjoy each other!  Try and escape from that lot!  Mind you 
don't fuck each other doing it!  Don't have an argument now, you can't get away 
from each other!" She laughed a laugh that didn't sound too healthy.  It even 
caused Rebecca to look at her suddenly.  Tammy was leering at the Siamese twins 
on the padded floor, the sweat pouring down her face.  "Come on Rebecca," she 
said.  "Let's let them get a good night's sleep."
They looked back at the completely canvas and leather covered form on the floor, 
Joy's face glaring up at them, Christine's face beginning to show signs of 
definite waking.  It was difficult to see which  encased body belonged to which 
person, which leg belonged to which strait-jacketed torso.  The whole length of 
the two was a mass of straps and buckles.
The two left the padded room and the door clanged shut.  Muffled sounds of bolts 
and locks were heard, then the silence of the padded cell set in again.
Joy turned and looked at the woman she was strapped to.  Christine's face was 
pushing against hers.  They were both lying on their sides, hugging each other, 
Christine' head slumped lightly on Joy's each of them looking over the other's 
shoulder.  Joy wriggled and tried to get her arms into a more comfortable 
position.  They didn't move.  Christine groaned.
"Move away a bit.  I'm too hot," she slurred.  She tried to pull away.
"I can't Christine," said Joy, "we're tied together!"
"Headache!" groaned Christine, and slumped into sleep, her head resting on 
Joy's.
Joy lay there thinking about their predicament.  There was no comfort.  If they 
lay on their sides, each had an arm pinned to the floor.  If they lay on their 
backs, one of them would have the weight of the other on top of her.  Standing 
up would relieve the pressures, but how were they to get up.  At the moment 
Christine was a dead weight, but even so, strapped as they were from neck to 
foot, Joy couldn't imagine them getting up.  They were looking in opposite 
directions, their knees bent in opposite directions, that meant the other's leg 
would act as a splint if they tried to get up.  They lay there for a few 
minutes, Joy just holding the drugged Christine.
Suddenly Christine pulled back, or at least tried to, she strained her head back 
and looked into Joy's eyes.  She had come around.
"Oh, it's you Joy.  What the hell is going on?"
"I'm in a strait-jacket, the one you strapped me in, but in case you haven't 
noticed, so are you!  You're nice little friends have strapped us together."
"Me in a strait-jacket? I do the tying not be tied!  " Christine pulled in her 
thick, strapped sleeves.  "I don't feel well, Joy.  You don't look so good 
either.  Blood's dried all around your nose.  My head's killing me."
"Just lie quiet, Christine," said Joy.  "It's the injection.  Rest your face 
against mine and keep your eyes closed for a while."
Christine did just that.  Joy felt the warm, smooth and soft face resting on 
hers.  The urge to twist and rub her face against Christine's was almost 
irresistible.  Somewhere, out of sight but not out of mind, strapped up under 
the strait-jacket crutch strap, held firmly behind her plastic knickers and 
nappy, her clitoris was as hard as a rock.  The urge to rub backwards and 
forwards against Christine was almost overwhelming.  Joy worked out that there 
were probably at least ten layers of material separating their clits.
"I'm going to get those bitches," said Christine unexpectedly straight into 
Joy's ear.
"Can we try and change position, Christine.  My arm's gone to sleep."
"Let's try and turn to my left, your right," said Joy.
The effort involved was enormous.  Just as they seemed to be tipping over, they 
rolled back into the original position.  They were straining and their sweating 
faces were pushed together.  Their legs were like unbending posts, each movement 
of one working against the movements of the other.  Suddenly they passed the 
point of balance and rolled over.  Christine was on top of Joy, who was lying on 
her back.  Christine' weight pushed the breath out of her.  Christine rested her 
head over Joy's shoulder, facing down into the padded floor.
"Shall I try and chew through the shoulder of your strait-jacket?  Leather for 
breakfast!  " Joy tried to joke.  She felt conscious of being tied to someone 
she found so attractive.
Suddenly Christine reared her head back and rocked violently from side to side.  
Her teeth were clenched with the exertion, a trickle of blood worked its way 
over her soft cheek from her injured tongue.  She was pulling in her leather 
sleeve, Joy could feel the contortions under her, she was trying to free her 
legs, she was bucking and tugging, using all her strength.  She started to let a 
frustrated cry from deep in her throat, she strained and pulled until veins 
stood out in her forehead.  She twisted her head from right to left in her high 
collar, tears were rolling from her eyes, sweat trickling over her face and 
dripping on to Joy's.
"No, No, No!" she cried.  "The cunts.  No!  No!  No!!" She was screaming, the 
padded cell absorbing the volume.
Joy was being crushed, her face was being rubbed by Christine's chin, Joy's 
bruised face was crying out at the bangs it was getting from the struggling 
woman.
"Stop, Christine!" she shouted.  "STOP, you're hurting me!  STOP!"
Just as suddenly as the bout started, Christine stopped writhing about.  She 
collapsed on to Joy, lying there gasping and panting.  For a while neither said 
anything.
"Sorry," said Christine.  She was pouring with sweat and glowing with heat.  
"Sorry, Joy," she gasped, the sounds coming out painfully because of her bitten 
tongue.
"It's OK Christine.  It's OK."
Christine pushed her face against Joy's.  "I like doing the tying, Joy, I like 
seeing girls tied up, I like thinking out new ways to imprison someone, but 1 
can't take being on the receiving end.  If 1 think about this jacket, the 
straps, this cell, I could go insane!  "She pushed her face closer against 
Joy's.  Joy's bruised face protested, but Joy didn't.
"It's OK, Christine," said Joy, "we'll soon get out of this."
"I'm not so sure," said Christine, pulling in her jacket, "did you see the look 
on Tammy's face?  She means business.  She won't let us out so quickly."
She started pulling again, straining her head backwards as far as she could with 
the effort of struggling.
"Don't struggle, Christine!" ordered Joy between clenched teeth and rubbed her 
face against Christine'.  "Come here, let me clean you up!"
She strained and rubbed her cheek against Christine, wiping sweat away as best 
she could.  Christine was on fire, all Joy wanted to do was get apart for a 
moment until they cooled down a bit. But they were strapped together, covered in 
canvas and leather which just held them in its grip and let them sweat.
Joy licked at the trickle of blood drying on Christine's  chin.  Christine 
pushed her face nearer and their lips touched.  Joy felt Christine push her hips 
forward, causing pressure on Joy's already bursting clit, held restrained behind 
layers of material.  Irresistible surges of pressure coursed through their 
bound bodies as they kissed, Joy's tongue finding its way deep into Christine's 
mouth.  She felt Christine winch with the pain of her injured tongue, but 
Christine pushed her mouth against Joy's even harder, and pulled Joy, already 
strapped to her, even tighter against her.  The two gasped and strained, their 
restricted bodies rubbing against each other as best they could.  Their whole 
bodies were tensed, every muscle taught in their strait-jackets, imprisoned arms 
tried in closed sleeves to move up and down the other's body.  Leather chaffed 
against leather, the creaking sounds swallowed up by the padded room.  Their 
leathered legs made use of every centimetre of slack in the straps to rub 
against each other.  The sweat trickled off their faces and ran onto the canvas 
floor.  Almost simultaneously a convulsive shudder went through the two as their 
bodies reached climax.  They wrenched against each other, they bucked in their 
strait-jackets which creaked but unrelentingly held them in their grasps.
Slowly the tension went out of their bodies and Joy and Christine relaxed, the 
sweat pouring from them, their breath coming out in gasps.
"You're great!" said Christine.
Joy hugged Christine to her even more and gently kissed Christine' lips then 
fell into the most comfortable position with her head looking over Christine' 
shoulder.
Thus, on the soft padded floor, the two, strapped together as one, fell into an 
uneasy sleep.
Joy was the first to wake up.  She was cold and clammy in her damp leather.  At 
first she wasn't quite sure where she was, but the marshmallow walls soon 
reminded her.  She squinted up at the eternally burning light above them, she 
tried to move her arm and was soon reminded of the plight she and the woman she 
was embracing were in.  Her breasts ached.  She turned her head the best she 
could to look at Christine.
What a situation to get into, but what a woman to get tied up with.  Her clit 
stirred somewhere way down out of sight.  She ached.  Her body felt bruised, her 
jaw was obviously swollen and her arms hurt her.  She had the full weight of 
Christine pressing down on one arm, but then, one of Christine' arms was under 
her, too, so Christine would feel the same when she awoke.  For once Joy was 
grateful for the padded floor they were lying on.
Joy's movements, although slight carried over to Christine.  They were as one.  
Christine woke up.  She pulled her head back to focus on Joy's face.  She 
smiled.  "Hi!" she said and made a little snorting noise which said as good as 
"What a fuck-up!  "
Joy felt slightly embarrassed at what had happened between them, but Christine 
soon dispelled any doubts Joy had by rubbing her chin across Joy's in a comic 
gesture of affection but the limit of what could be achieved in their bound 
condition.  They kissed, deep and long.  Joy suddenly pulled back.
"Don't Christine!  " she said.  "We've already come in our rubbers once and 
apart from that I'm bursting for a wee!  "
"So am I," said Christine.  "My right arm's dead and so is one of my legs 
although I can't really tell which one, perhaps it's yours!" she joked.
"Christine, let's see if we can roll over again," suggested Joy.
"Who's going to be the bottom girl?" asked Christine.
"Let's toss for it!" said Joy.
"The only tossing done tied up like this is not going to be done with a coin!" 
said Christine.  "You roll onto me, you're probably a bit lighter."
They started moving, leather creaking and bodies straining.  Both found the
experience a turn-on, and as they lay there at last Joy on top of Christine, 
they kissed.
"Christ, you're heavy," gasped Christine as Joy massaged her thighs against 
Christine' as vigorously as the straps would allow.  Joy gently bit Christine' 
ear as the sexual sensations became almost unbearable.  She could imagine them 
both 
If there were an observer through the spy-window in the door..........  Two very 
feminine, trim bodies completely encased in leather, wearing jackets designed to 
imprison,  strapped together, their arms strapped together, their arms around 
themselves.
Joy came, they both came in massive spasms. Their vaginal juices spurted into 
their nappies. Joy almost screamed as she pulsed painfully because of her full 
bladder, the pain was ecstasy and she pulled with all her strength in the 
strait-jacket.  The, reinforced jacket proved it was made to hold a much 
stronger person than Joy.
They lay there, gasping from the exertion of their actions, Christine unable to 
properly with Joy's weight on her.  She stared up at the infernal light-bulb, 
had no choice but to stare into the dirty white canvas floor.  Both were 
thinking their plight.  Being forced together like this was great, the orgasms 
were even better, but it was becoming less than a joke.  Both were in pain, 
cramped and dying relieve themselves.  The orgasm they had just had hadn't 
helped the situation, weeing had become a dominant thought.
"I'm hungry!" said Joy.  "What time and what day is it?  I feel as though I've 
been in a strait-jacket all my life."
"It's probably late Saturd........."
They heard a noise.  The door was being unlocked.

"So, how are our two escape-artists doing?" mocked Tammy.  She was dressed in 
orderly whites again now, as was Rebecca, standing behind her.  The two, 
parcelled the soft floor welcomes the gust of fresh air that swept in when the 
massive door was pulled open.
"I hope you haven't been doing naughty things or we'll have to strap you down on 
your backs, -separate beds, of course!"
Christine strained to look up at Tammy, Joy had to keep looking at the floor.
"Let us out, you bitch!" said Christine, "you've had your fun."
My fun's just started," said Tammy evilly.  "I've spent the night devising all 
types things for you two.  I thought for you, Christine, we'd first of all wrap 
your head entirely in very sticky, adhesive bandages, so you can't hear and 
those blue eyes ours are sealed closed and that foul mouth of yours stuck shut.  
Then we'd unstrap from your leather friend and let you crawl around trying to 
free your head with hands still encased in the thick sleeves of your strait-
jacket.  Then, when we don't the pathetic sight funny anymore, we'll strap your 
arms around you, drag you into al cell and hoist you up by your feet to hang 
from the ceiling.  Of course, we 't have the pleasure of watching you go red in 
the face or seeing your eyes bulge of your head, but we will be able to imagine 
the pressure the bandages put on your as the blood pounds in your temples!"
"You're mad, you fucking cunt!" shouted Christine and pulled in her bounds.
"I shouldn't call me that, if I was you, you bitch, - you're the one in the 
strait! " She knelt down beside the strapped pair and pushed the toe of her shoe 
painfully into  Christine's ear.  She grabbed a handful of Christine's hair and 
wrenched her head back. And for your leather-friend here," continued Tammy, 
grasping hair at the back of Joy's and pulling her head back at an angle, too, 
"we thought we'd take off her precious and put her in those shiny black oilskins 
out there in her car. I bet you look very kinky in them.  Black and shiny from 
head to toe.  Then we thought we'd roll you in wet cotton sheets until you 
looked like a mummy and watch you slowly be squeezed by the sheets as they dry-
out and shrink.  We're gonna reduce you, reduce you to a cringing bitch, begging 
for us to release you."
"You're mad!" said Joy.
"Don't say that nursey," said Tammy through gritted teeth and jerked Joy's head 
back.  Joy cried out, Christine made an effort to struggle, but Tammy wrenched 
her hair making her moan through clenched teeth.
"Leave them, Tammy," said Rebecca, speaking for the first time.  "Don't hurt 
them!  "
"Don't hurt them!  Don't hurt them!  This bitch hurt me enough yesterday!"
Tammy shouted.
"I'll hurt you again when I get out of this!" exclaimed Christine.
Tammy let go of Christine's hair and stood up, towering over the helpless 
couple.
"But you're not going to get out, are you little Christine!" sneered Tammy.
"We're hungry and are dying for a wee!" said Joy.
"Oh, what a shame.  They're hungry and need a piss!  " mimicked Tammy.
"It was always in our rules to feed anyone we had tied-up down here," said 
Christine, "and get them to the toilet."
"We're not playing by rules anymore, Christine, old boy!  You can piss in your 
rubbers and cry with hunger pains before I help you."
"Rebecca, can't you do something," asked Christine, desperately.
"Let's get them to the toilet, Tammy!" said Rebecca, "you're going too far!"
"Keep out of this, you cunt!" replied Tammy to Rebecca viciously.
"Just calm down, Tammy!" said Rebecca.  "Speak like that to me again and I'll 
smash you in the face!" Rebecca looked really angry and obviously meant it.
For a moment it looked as though Tammy was going to attack her friend, but 
suddenly kicked out violently and unexpectedly at Christine on the floor.
The kick got Christine on her arm, the force of the kick causing her to slam her 
head sideways against Joy's face.  Their two heads made an audible thump. 
"Fucking hell, Tammy!" shouted Rebecca, "you'll kill them!"
She pulled Tammy away from the two, almost wrenching her out of the door.
"I'll get you two cunts later!" screamed Tammy.  "Wait until we're off duty."
Rebecca jerked her by her uniform.  Tammy almost fell out of the cell and the 
door closed with a 'whumph' as its padding lined up with the padded walls.  The 
unnatural silence set in like a pressure on the eardrums, but Joy was screaming 
insults at Tammy, and Christine was too stunned to think.
Joy stopped shouting and straining, almost crying and pulled her head up wards 
to see Christine. She was making snuffling and swallowing noises as she tried to 
breathe.
"Oh, fuck!  " Christine moaned.  She was trying to bear the pain of her arm that 
was obviously badly hurt, tears were running down her cheeks.  "What are we 
going to do Joy?  Tammy's gone mad.  If she bandages my head up
like she says, you'll never see me sane again.  I'll just go mad with 
claustrophobia, this strait-jacket's as much as I can take." Her words came out 
in sobs.
"Keep quiet, Christine, - we'll be OK." Joy didn't like seeing Christine reduced 
to this state.  "We'll be OK."
Suddenly, quite unexpectedly, the door was opened and Rebecca hurried in, 
tripping in the padding and nearly failing on the two of them.
"Come on you two, this has all gone too far.  Quickly, I think Tammy's noticed 
I've come back down here." Rebecca was already undoing the straps holding 
Christine' arms around Joy.  Almost desperately she jerked the two of them over 
to get at the fastenings for Joy's sleeves.  The two of them almost screamed 
with pain.
"You can do the rest, - I must get back up!  " And Rebecca left as fast as she 
had come, closing the door but not locking it.
Joy and Christine still lay there in their strait-jackets, still with their legs 
strapped together.  They were no longer embracing each other, but each was 
trying to bear the violent pins-and-needles they were experiencing in their 
arms.  Their whole arms tingled unbearable, blood pulsed in their fingertips as 
if it would break through.
"Quickly!" said Christine at last, her leather-encased hand coming up to her 
face to wipe some of the sweat off.  She winced as she misjudged the stiff 
leather mitt and caught her nose.  She snuffled.  "If Tammy gets down here we 
don't stand a chance.  She'll just strap us up again!"
This spurred Joy into action and the two of them started desperately to try to 
unstrap their legs.  Christine had the best position, she could reach around Joy 
and work on the buckles.  Joy was still lying face-down on Christine and fumbled 
behind her, getting no-where.  In the end they decided it would be easier if 
Christine did it alone, but it was frustrating work, Christine couldn't get a 
hold on the straps through the thick leather.  They were almost panicking.  The 
thought of Tammy strapping them and wreaking further vengeance on them was 
enough to make Christine sweat with frustration and grope even more fervently.
At last the first strap fell away and after what seemed like an hour, the 
second.  Now their legs were only strapped together from the knees to the ankles 
and this enabled Joy to slide sideways off of Christine.  Christine then pulled 
herself up on her elbows and jerked the pair of them a foot or so backwards, so 
she could lean against the padded wall.  Joy thought her ankles were going to 
break.  There was far more room to manipulate now, and Christine soon had the 
other straps open.  Christine and Joy were no longer tied together.
Joy was on all fours on the padded floor.  She looked at Christine who had her 
eyes closed and her head back against the wall.  Blood had dripped onto the 
shiny brown leather of her strait-jacket and Joy could see that Christine was 
trembling from the exertion of getting the straps undone.
"We must get out of here!" exclaimed Joy.
Joy tried to stand up, but many hours of restraint and the soft floor caused her 
to fall forward, falling across Christine, who let out a snort.  Christine, even 
in her pained condition managed a smile.
"Come on girl!  " she said, and worked Joy off her.  Both of them stood 
carefully up and stumbled towards the cell door.  Joy pushed on it and it swung 
open slowly.  For the first time for what seemed like months, they saw normal 
stone walls, heard their own sounds resonating normally off walls and felt the 
floor stone-hard and solid under their feet.
"Let's close the cell door," said Joy, and they pushed it shut.
"Come on," said Christine and started to run down the corridor on wobbly legs, 
straps trailing from the sleeves of the strait-jacket.
Joy followed and they went into the bathroom where they had let Joy wee a 
thousand years ago.  The sight of the toilet nearly made the two of them wee 
into their nappies.
For the first time they stopped to breathe.  Christine looked at Joy standing 
there in padded plastic knickers wearing a strait-jacket with the sleeves 
unstrapped.  The sleeve strap with its extension hung to the floor and snaked in 
a curl.  Joy looked at her sturdy Christine, her head held up at a proud angle 
by the vicious collar of her strait-jacket.  Blood was smeared across her pretty 
face.
Joy felt a pride and love for this good-looking woman and went over to her.  
Christine responded and they embraced each other with their leather encased 
arms.  Christine pushed her thigh against Joy and Joy felt a stirring in her 
knickers.
"Don't kiss me, Joy, my whole face hurts.  Come on, we've got to get these 
jackets off.  Tammy will still have the advantage."
"Turn around," said Joy.
Christine turned around and Joy set to work using her imprisoned hands to try 
and unstrap the mass of straps holding the strait-jacket on Christine.  She soon 
discovered that she got on better using her teeth.  As she undid the crutch 
strap, Joy knelt on the floor and held Christine's  legs with her arms, pushing 
her face against Christine's plastic covered bottom to try to get the buckle 
open.  At last the jacket was open apart from the two straps buckling 
Christine's collar.  With a shrugging motion, Christine worked the jacket off 
herself, Joy helped as best as she could, watching Christine's  torso emerge 
from the imprisoning jacket like a butterfly from a cocoon.  Christine got one 
arm out of one sleeve and worked with trembling fingers on the collar straps.  
The heavy jacket fell to the ground.
Christine stood there, her body 'creased' from the restraint that had been 
strapped around it.  Christine undid her jacket and as if on cue blood dripped 
from her nose.
"Get me out of this," said Joy looking down at her arms still encased in the 
strait-jacket.
"Turn around, then," said Christine.
Joy turned around.  Suddenly Christine reached around her and grabbed her 
sleeves.  She crossed Joy's arms across her breasts and pulled the straps around 
the back.  Joy was surprised how quickly and efficiently this happened.  
Christine obviously had experience.
"What if I strap you up again, push you back in the padded cell and let Tammy 
have her way with you!?" Christine said.  Joy heard the humour in Christine' 
voice but still felt a bit worried and jerked away.  Her arms fell away from her  
body again.  Christine started to unstrap the punishment jacket and soon it fell 
away from Joy.  Joy had her hands again.  Joy looked down at her breasts and 
didn't recognise her own body anymore.  The strait-jacket lay impotent in a heap 
on the floor.
Almost simultaneously, they dived for the toilet.  Two girls in full sanitary 
protection groped frantically to pull down their nappies and plastic panties.  
Two women sat and pissed in a stream as though they would never stop.
Joy and Christine didn't have long to wait before they heard sounds of heavy 
doors being opened and locked again.  Rebecca and Tammy were coming down again, 
although Rebecca must have had a good idea of what was waiting.  Joy and 
Christine waited in a neighbouring padded cell.  This cell really showed the 
dereliction of the building.  It smelt dank and musty, there was mildew on the 
canvas and most of the padding was coming out through rips in the covering.  
They heard Rebecca and Tammy go past to the cell Joy and Christine should've 
been in.  They waited.  Suddenly there was an exclamation from Tammy.  "You 
cunt, Rebecca, you've let them out, the door's unlocked!"
"You'd gone too far......... started Rebecca but broke off, - Tammy had 
obviously pushed, thumped or somehow gone for her.
There was the two's chance.  They rushed out of the cell and fell upon Tammy who 
was too occupied with Rebecca to be able to react quickly enough.  The two girls 
grabbed her.  Joy locked her arm around Tammy's throat and grabbed her wrist, 
jerking the blond girl's arm up behind her back.  Tammy let out a cry of pain.  
Joy had been a bit too brutal, but nothing could go wrong.
Christine had pulled open the door to the padded cell and they forced Tammy in, 
cursing and struggling.  She elbowed back into Joy's stomach.  Joy gasped but 
desperately kept hold of Tammy, forcing her arm up even higher and nearly 
breaking Tammy's neck with her arm locked around it.  The sheer onslaught of the 
attack was too much for Tammy  who stumbled on the padded floor and fell over.  
Joy fell with her and knelt on her shoulders, pushing her face into the soft 
floor.  Tammy grunted and puffed as she tried to force new girl off of her.
Christine was active.  Pulling Tammy's white jacket out of the way, she worked a 
thick leather handcuff belt under the struggling woman.  With difficulty but 
determination, she managed to get the slit over the metal hasp and snap the 
padlock through.  As Joy fought to hold the writhing woman down, Christine 
grabbed at Tammy's right wrist.  Tammy was using all her strength to resist, but 
two onto one started to win through.  Rebecca watched passively from the door.
With a loud click the handcuff was locked over Tammy's wrist.  Tammy had no 
chance now and it was only a matter of moments before the other hand was locked 
to her waist.  Joy, stayed sitting on Tammy as Christine expertly manacled 
Tammy's ankles together.  Only then did she get off and Tammy gasped for breath 
as she pulled her face out of the padded floor.  She rolled over and lay there 
gasping.
"Youc........ she started but Christine grabbed her mouth and nose tightly in 
her hand.  Tammy writhed, she couldn't breathe, but Christine held on.
"Just you listen here, Tammy!  " said Christine, "I'm going to get Joy out of 
here, and then I'm coming back here, and then I'm going to show you things about 
restraint that you never ever dreamed of. You're going to be the one crying to 
be let out!"
Tammy was gagging and choking.  Christine let her go, pinching her face as she 
did so. Tammy gasped for breath.
"You cunts will never get away with this!" she shouted.  "Rebecca, do 
something!"
"You hit me, Tammy," said Rebecca.  "Nobody hits me."
"Hey, you can't leave me here, heh, HEH!  " screamed Tammy, as they turned to
go.
"I'm coming back, all right, don't you worry!" said Christine.
They closed the padded door on the chained woman, cutting off her shouts and 
curses.  As the locks were turned, Joy noticed that not a sound could be heard 
from the room.
The sunlight hurt their eyes.  Christine had replaced her uniform, they had 
carefully cleaned the congealed blood from Christine's face before leaving the 
block.
"Joy, I wanted to get you something to eat before you go, but do you mind if
I just get you out of this place?  I need to have my arm looked at I think 
there's gonna be a lot of explaining to do here.  Have I missed a duty, 
Rebecca?"
"Yes, one last night, - Tammy told them at the desk that you were ill."
"Shit!" exclaimed Christine.
They had got to Joy's car, still standing there waiting.
"Where's my bag?" she asked.  Christine looked at Rebecca.
"I'll go in and get it," offered Rebecca.
"I'll come down to the gate with you," said Christine, "or you'll never get out.  
Can I ride with you?"
"Sure," said Joy, "anytime!"
Rebecca came down the steps waiving to another warder who looked at the two 
dishevelled women with interest.  She gave Joy her bag.
"Want me to come down to the gate with you?  I'll say good-bye where it all 
started!" offered Rebecca.
"It's OK," said Christine quickly, "I'll go.  The walk back will give me time to 
think about how to explain this arm of mine!"
"Bye Joy," said Rebecca, as Joy rather painfully got into her car.  "I wouldn't 
have minded being the one tied to you!"
"Maybe next time!" joked Joy and gave her a playful tap on the shoulder with her 
hand.
Joy clicked her seat belt shut. More restraint?.  It burst into life at the 
touch of the key.  Christine got in beside her.  Joy leaned over and helped her 
with her belt and noticed how it settled between her breasts.  The two took off 
in the car with Rebecca shouting her good-byes.
They rode down the long drive, Christine grip Joy's thigh. The two nurses 
looking good together.  Joy drove slowly.  
They got to the gate and both of them got out.  Joy stood there and watched his 
Christine go to open the massive door.  She looked lovely in her full uniform.  
Joy felt the urge to run over and grab this incredible girl, but it was all 
over.  Christine turned around, smiling.  Her face was puffy and one eye was 
very dark, but she looked even more beautiful.
"God, you look good standing there," Christine said to Joy.
"I was just thinking the same thing," said Joy.
Christine put an arm around  Joy's slim waist.  Christine pulled her to her.  
Joy's groin stirred at the feel of her friends body.
"I can't kiss you!" said Christine, "there's not a place on my face that doesn't 
hurt!"
"No, go and get it fixed," said Joy.
"Yes, first my face, then I'm going to fix that bitch Tammy.  Bye Joy."
Joy pulled away and got back into her car and drove through the doorway.  She 
put her car in neutral, turned around and waved as Christine closed the door.  
It all seemed so final.  Joy drove off.  The sun was shining but Joy didn't feel 
much of its warmth.  As usual she'd let her chances go.  Hadn't even asked 
Christine for her address.  Typical.  Five minutes on the road and already none 
of it seemed true, but the ache in her groin, the damp spot in her panties and 
the bruising on her face, - they were her proof.
She saw a Little Chef and drove in.


EPILOGUE


A week had passed.  A dreary week, a rainy week, a week where Joy hadn't
really been interested in work.  Her thoughts had been occupied day and night
by Christine, - Christine strapped to her, Christine kissing her, Christine just 
being there, her irresistible body emphasised by leather and canvas.  She'd 
forgotten the pain, the cramp, the stiffness and the agony	of a full bladder 
and wished she were back in the strait-jacket bound to Christine, feeling the 
girl pulling in her restraints, feeling Christine's warmth, her skin, 
her....shit!, she wasn't ever going to be able to forget that girl!
The door bell rang.  Joy let it ring.  It rang again.  Joy  got up reluctantly 
from the bed and went to the door.  The bell rang again.
"Ok, ok!  I'm coming!"
She opened the door and there stood Christine as though lying on the bed 
thinking about her had conjured her up.
God, Christine looked great!  She stood there as she had done when Joy had 
looked up from the padded cell and seen Christine in nursing uniform for the 
first time.  She stood there with a gleaming smile on her face.
"Can I come in?" she said, "I got your address from your application form."
"Yes, of course, come in.  How are you now? 
"My arms still stiff.  Well it's a bloody nuisance really, I had a chipped 
humorous but it a lot better now." Heh, I thought you never took off your 
uniform?  You've got a fine body!
Joy was just wearing panties and a dressing gown that was partly open.
"I wanted to feel your cool skin against my naked skin," Joy joked.
"Easily arranged," said Christine as she pulled Joy to her, hugged her and 
kissed her.
"How's Rebecca?"
"Rebecca's fine."
"And Tammy?"
"Now there's a funny thing!" said Christine with a smile on her face, "No one's 
seen Tammy for a week.  Someone phoned in and said she was ill!  She's confined 
to her bed or something!"
Joy laughed.
"That reminds me," said Christine.  She let go of Joy and unzipped the bag all 
she had brought with her.  She pulled out a vibrator and a heavy brown 
leather jacket, covered with rivets, straps and buckles hanging menacingly.
"Want some fun?" she said.


Copyright The Institute 1998