Agent Case Encased
Ó 2021 by Bob2300 (deviantart.com.bob2300)
Edited by Dannysulingg (deviantart.com/dannysuling)

The agency was heavily classified—if you had to ask, you didn’t need to know. Its research and development arm was located underground, far below their main office on the surface. Security was intense at this top secret location, based entirely within the other clandestine location. The site was not mentioned on any map, nor any civic plan. It was a discreet national secret, buried in the heart of a bustling urban area. No one would really notice an extra bit of bustle in a busy city now would they?

On this day, deep beneath the city streets and the layers of security, within the secretive offices of the agency, an unusual incident was being investigated, its peculiar circumstances reviewed….

…From Agent Tiffany Case’s perspective it was a waking nightmare that simply would not end. She couldn’t believe what had happened to her. It felt surreal, as if she had been drugged or had been traumatized, her mind sliding into some delusion, some black, oily, phantom nightmare. She just wanted to wake up, she just wanted to rest, but she couldn’t. She was trapped like a bug encased in amber, locked firmly and irrefutably into her torment.

But, the day had started so differently. First thing that morning Agent Case had had a spring in her step, a whistle on her lips. It was a small celebration, a landmark moment for her. She was past her three-month probation time. It had ended yesterday. She had effectively graduated, and had her officially watermarked letter. They couldn’t send her to jail unless she actually broke the National Secrets Act—something she was not planning on doing any time soon. She had fulfilled the minimum criteria of the deal that had gotten her out of jail. She was now one of them, though she didn’t get a snazzy code name yet. She might be a junior agent third class, but she had her own office, small as it was. She just needed to keep working away within the agency. She was confident that, eventually, in no time at all really, she would be a junior agent 2nd class.

There would be perks from the promotion, access to the good coffee machine and the real sugar sachets, not the imitation crap that was like chewing on grit. Tiffany would be able to access the vending machines on the second floor that contained the doughnuts with sprinkles on them. Admittedly, these were not lofty goals or rewards, but they were something Tiffany was certain that she could achieve. Realistically, of course, she knew she was still almost at the bottom of the pile. Amongst other things, this meant she just had to do that one bit of filing this day for one of the regular agents, as tedious as it was. She couldn’t refuse what was deemed a reasonable request, even if ‘reasonable’ ended up adding forty-five minutes of unpaid overtime to the day. She dismissed the irritation, however; she would do the one little job. Then she could get back to her own office and the work she was actually meant to be doing, the work that she would get some credit for completing.

She sighed to herself. Why did they have to have certain files as hard copies? Wasn’t a scanned copy good enough? Tiffany wondered about how archaic some of these rules were. If she suggested that they modernise, then she might end up spending the next decade of her life scanning everything in the dusty archive into a database, so she kept that suggestion to herself. She sighed again and entered her code into the keypad outside her office door. With a click it opened. She sighed once more; here were more packages that she hadn’t ordered! The bloody mailman had a higher security clearance than she did, and that meant access to her tiny office, where he seemed to always dump every random bit of post when he couldn’t find where it was meant to go, leaving it to her detective skills to properly deliver the items. Hopefully it was not more stuff for the supply cabinet. She hated that; if it got left in her office then they would accuse her of taking it in the first place.

She noted the odd random paperwork posted under her door.

Hopefully, now that she had the draft excluder, she would get no more of the maintenance request forms. She did wonder why they kept dropping them off to her office. She figured it must have belonged to a maintenance manager in the past. She sighed yet again in exasperation, then looked up as a whirring noise caught her attention. 

That bloody security camera, installed for her safety seemed to follow her about her office! She thought that it was also quite odd that there were now two smoke detectors in the office, the one by the door and the one that was almost directly over her desk. She wondered why they needed two? Agent Case sighed and calmed down, telling herself that she was in a top-secret installation. Still, she had an Orwellian thought: she could imagine the CCTV watching the people watching her, then cameras watching the watchers, and so on ad infinitum. This made her head hurt, so she tried to keep herself from further considering that spiralling tangential idea….

…In an interview room monitored by every electronic device imaginable, a Junior Agent, Miss T. Case, was being questioned about her unauthorised use of a top-secret prototype, and how it had come into her possession in the first place. They were not making any headway, however, not getting one useful bit of information, not one single piece of insight, despite the illustrious interview panel in attendance.

Agent Case sat on a stool in the middle of the room, not responding to a single question posed to her. She didn’t even acknowledge a single member of the interview board seated around her, perhaps because, in this circumstance, she couldn’t even detect that they were there in the same room as she was….

…Returning to the latest problem dumped on her desk, Agent Case could see that there were two packages. One of them was fairly small, about the size of a small remote, easy to lose if one wasn’t careful. The second was the size of a briefcase, a bit of a chunky one at that. She had no idea where the big package was supposed to be delivered. But now it was in her office it was her sodding responsibility to find out its correct destination.

Actually, she had been expecting something that she had requested two months ago; she had ordered a remote control for the air conditioning. Thinking it might actually be her lucky day, she set about pulling open the padded envelope in the hope it was for her. However, she looked disappointedly at what was in front of her. Unless the company had dramatically changed what they were using, this was not what she wanted. The remote she wanted looked a bit like a video remote, but this item looked more like a car key, only with quite a few little buttons down the side—an expensive high-end car perhaps? She half-imagined that it belonged to one of the souped-up cars in the parking garage above.

Then Tiffany thought of a clever plan. On the off-chance that it was indeed her remote, she decided to press all the buttons and see what happened. But she paused for a very tiny fraction of a second. Perhaps one of those ‘007 cars’ above would to deploy its ejector seat? She shrugged, then pointed the device at the air-conditioning unit and began to click away. Normally, the air-conditioning unit seemed to have a mind of its own: when it was cold it tried to chill the room even more, and when it was warm she couldn’t find a way to switch the heat pump off. When there were loose files on her desk, the cursed thing would kick in with the fan at full blast, scattering them all over the room. 

Now, though, there was a series of bleeps from the remote, and one by one five red lights came on. Then the remote seemed to freeze. It did nothing more, no matter how she shook it. nor what sequence of buttons she pressed, nor how much force she used to press them. The air-conditioning unit, on the other hand, seemed as implacable as ever. Agent Case shrugged. So much for the air-con remote she had requested. Simply another dud.

Tiffany looked at the cursed thing and shook it gently, expecting a rattle. Perhaps it was some cheap universal air-con remote, and her button mashing had broken it. She groaned at that thought: they might decide to take it out of her wages for a new one—not that it could be that expensive, right? She clutched the remote tightly; maybe it simply needed some new batteries. She was not quite giving up on the idea that her climate-control might actually work.

Tiffany examined the larger package. The label simply seemed to indicate her floor and her office, nothing else, though that had to be an error. She would have to open it up to find out what it was, to find out where it was meant to go. She might get in trouble for this, if she saw something classified. But then if she didn’t work out who it was meant to be delivered to, she would get in trouble for that as well. She snatched up the scissors from her desk and, with two firm snips, cut the straps holding the bundle of wrapping around the package. What, she wondered, did she actually have in her hands?

The damn case couldn’t have been that secure, with only the mundane plastic straps holding it shut. Still, she almost jumped when the wrapping unravelled and the silvery pressed-aluminium case inside became visible. She noted it had some very heavy spring-loaded actuators contained inside, which allowed it to open the second it was unclipped. That made her nervous, like it was some sort of trap and she was a mouse who had blundered into it. Who would construct a case in such a way that it would just pop open?

The contents of the case actually looked fairly mundane. No ticking clock attached to a bundle of dynamite, just a fairly heavy-duty white lab coat. Should she check it out for clues, or was this evidence that need to be analysed? She was not quite sure what would be stored in such a high-tech padded case. The inside of the case had expensive-looking moulded foam, as if it were designed to hold some sort of costly device. But wait…was there something else in there wrapped in the coat? Had some boffin used their own lab coat as improvised packing material to protect some carefully calibrated device? She looked closer, then almost dropped her scissors on her foot as something in the case moved! Was there some live animal wrapped in the coat?...

…If one examined the photo IDs in Miss Case’s file, one would see a lovely, well-proportioned, perhaps quite gorgeous redhead with a winning smile and a sinfully curvaceous body. But right now she was clad in her shoes, stockings, and a hint of underwear. Over her head she bore a white hood that seemed to have been inflated. A very tight white jacket almost completely removed any hint of her arms. They were there, though, tucked somewhere behind her back, but from the front there was only the slightest hint of their presence. A myriad of straps between her legs and around her thighs indicated just how unforgivingly tight the jacket was. The thick collar around her neck, choking her into compliance, contained five green LED lights. The entire device that trapped her inside it resisted any of her attempts to remove it—or anyone else’s, for that matter. At any such attempt, the garment decided to discipline its occupant with a wide variety of sadistic, firm discipline.

Of course, one could still observe the outline of a rather curvaceous body. In fact, the tightness of the jacket restraining her upper body highlighted, even amplified, some of her proportions. Not that it had any bearing on the current circumstances, since none of the interview panel sitting there were entertained watching the restrained redhead squirm. At some point, they had decided to give up trying to communicate with her directly, acknowledging the efficacy of the hood that had been applied to Agent Case’s head. It was designed with noise-dampening earplugs and a generous amount of padding.

A team of specialists was sifting through the available evidence. In an adjoining room filled with monitors and files, the two most competent people got on with the task, while the rest debated around it. A woman best described as a Betty Page-type in a lab-coat, with thick-rimmed black glasses, went by the code name ‘Professor V’. She was looking at her colleague, a technician named Analyst Stockton, a thin, peppy blonde attired in a charcoal grey skirt and suit jacket. The analyst was manipulating a video recording, attempting to reconstruct just what had happened to poor Miss Case, there within the walls of the agency….

…The scissors hit the floor, bounced, and skidded under her desk, and Tiffany flinched at the noise, She noted that the collar of the jacket was pointing forwards. It seemed to have five odd studs or buttons, very solid and very prominent. No, wait…they were LED lights, blinking green, then amber, then red. Agent Case took a deep breath. This was clearly above her pay grade. Was it going to set off some sort of alarm? She began to back away, half-expecting it to detonate, or something like that. She was worried what the lights denoted. Was it some gas or radiation detector built into a lab coat? Had she just gassed or irradiated herself by opening the box? She felt an ominous tingle travel up her spine. The collar seemed to be pointing at her, looking at her. And…hadn’t it just moved? 

With barely any hint of warning, the coat quickly began to rise out of the container! It took mere seconds, but the fabric twisted and changed as the garment transformed. Eight straps along the back of the garment elongated to form long, spindly legs. It looked like an angry predatory spider, hunched and ready to pounce. And it looked really nasty, too, with those five ominously glowing red eyes.

Agent Case swore to herself—this jacket was possessed by a demon spider, and she needed to call a fucking exorcist!! She was sure that it was looking at her like she was lunch. The jacket had transformed into something out of a nightmare. The entire room suddenly felt ice cold. She wondered if the agency handled the supernatural as well as all the rest of its secretive work?

The jacket shifted its limbs so that it would not catch on the desk. The thing was white, crisp, and clean, like paper just out of the packet. Yet it looked clinically ominous. The creature must have been two feet high and four feet across, folded up and ready to pounce, with a little strap-tail sticking out one end, waving just like a cat. Tiffany thought she was going to have a heart attack. Freaky fucking thing…she had to get out of her office, right now!

The device looked at her with those red merciless LED eyes. Damn thing’s intentions were crystal clear, and Tiffany couldn’t hold herself together any more. She was screaming uncontrollably and shuffling back as fast as she could. There was a thunk! as her back hit her own filing cabinet, limiting how far she could manoeuvre. In that moment, the jacket had crawled across her desk in preparation to launch itself at her. Tiffany had a tiny office. There was no furniture to get behind, no place to escape to.

She should have chosen much more practical shoes today, she thought wildly, as she almost tripped over the ones on her feet. She screamed a curse as she felt her three-inch heels go out from under her, and she landed with a jolt on her well-proportioned rear. Her head thudded against the side of the filing cabinet, and suddenly she felt numb and dizzy. Tiffany saw that she had slipped on an unfiled report. The Beedle report! It was too late now, though. She would not be winning the monthly commendation for the tidiest office.

Maybe it was just some gadget; she had a remote control, after all. She held the remote out, like Van Helsing trying to ward off a vampire, desperately clicking the buttons. Rather than a piece of technology trying to get a signal, she was trying to banish the sinister creature away, using the remote as an act of desperation. She had to turn it off. “Turn off! Fucking turn off!” she muttered under her breath.

It was too late, though. The synthetic creature was already catapulting itself through the air to meet her. The impact jarred her and pushed her against the wall of filing cabinets once again. She had her arms out instinctively to push it away. There was suddenly a strap wrapped around her throat. She couldn’t breathe from the implacable pressure. One strap wrapped around her right arm, two more were wrapped around her waist, and she was still trying to desperately fight it. Now she was truly helpless. It was like wrestling against steel cables that were trying to wrap around her. Her muscles were burning but hardly doing anything to stop the device’s actions….

…The video analyst team’s conversation produced the following transcript:

Analyst Stockton: “Start recording transcript of ASJ incident with Agent Case, personnel present Analyst Stockton and Professor V, designer of the ASJ prototype.”

Professor V: “Right. First, let’s go over the security footage.”

Analyst Stockton: “Well ,you can see that, at approximately 8:15 am, the prototype of the ASJ project was delivered to Junior Agent T. Case’s office instead of yours, by mistake.”

Professor V: “How did my prototype end up the wrong office?”

Analyst Stockton: “Dispatch says they had the floor number and the office number swapped around.”

Professor V: “Oh, that makes a bit of sense...I guess. Human error, no nefarious plot, just some ignorant blot screwing something up. Why do you have cameras in Agent Case’s office? If you could call that an office, that is. It looks more like a janitorial closet.”

Analyst Stockton: “She was recruited under the project directive code named Callan. It was either work for us, or go to jail. Hence the extra camera monitoring her office. Looking at the file…yes, you’re right. Her office was renovated from one of the janitorial closets.”

Professor V: “That second security camera looks like it’s hidden…and set up to look down her top? It’s only monitoring her cleavage, and it’s not monitoring anything else, correct? Have these security cameras actually produced anything of worth to justify their monitoring?”

Analyst Stockton: “Err…let me check the file…. According to the monitoring archive notes, we have observed her stealing from the office supply cabinet four pens, two pencils, a box of tacks, and an eraser above her assigned stationery quota. Err…as well as another fourteen infractions of the time-management directive: arriving up to five minutes late to work or back from her lunch break, for a total of nearly seventy minutes of agency time wasted over the last two months.”

Professor V: “What a waste of resources, at least it seems so to me. Now back to the fate of my prototype.”

Analyst Stockton: “Yes, quite, back to the job at hand. As you can see from the footage, at 8:17:06 Agent Case enters her office. The two packages that were due for the testing department have already been put on her desk. She opens up the smaller package a few moments later, at 8:17:18. Can you confirm that item would be the remote, Professor V?”

Professor V: “Yes, that’s the remote controller. It looks a bit like a car key, with an inbuilt coded chip and ten control buttons down the side. It’s one of the security features that we have been planning. Each unit is keyed to a specific remote. The agent obviously doesn’t know what she is doing. However…let me see…. Advance the footage a few seconds…. Yes, she fiddles with it anyway, even though she doesn’t know what its connected to! You see the red lights there? She has actually activated the ASJ in the other box. She has also managed to set it on Level Five security, the maximum level for this device. Also, she has locked the remote, too. You can see the five red LED lights on the side of the remote indicating the status of the prototype.”

Analyst Stockton: “Yes, very good, Professor. As I advance the video, you can see at 8:17:26 she still has the remote in her right hand. Your prototype is sitting on her desk. She picks up those scissors and cuts open the two ties that keep the wrapping on the main ASJ prototype case.”

Professor V: “Yes, the case is spring-loaded so that it opens quickly for rapid deployment, and the remote would have disengaged the case inner lock.”

…She desperately tried to push the entangling abomination away with her right hand, which was still relatively free. The whole thing seemed to immediately wrap around on itself. Turning inside out, suddenly it had pulled her right arm into the sleeve, beginning its inevitable envelopment of her thrashing body. Agent Case gasped, sucking in air. At least the strap around her neck was gone. She thought, absurdly, that she didn’t want a possessed straight jacket! It wouldn’t go with the rest of her outfit, for starters, and it would certainly impede her ability to get a full day’s work done. She tried to use her left hand for some leverage, but the damn thing just seemed to twist again and she now had both her arms in the sleeves of the coat. The fabric seemed to move like it was alive, pulling her in deeper, like a hungry maw.

 Fuck! I am trapped! Tiffany thought to herself. It had dealt with her so easily. It was really embarrassing, and the camera in her office would have caught it all. She was wide-eyed in shock as the jacket shut behind her. She felt the fabric pinch in around a number of clasps and locks, and she knew she was not going to get it open. 

Tiffany was now well into the white jacket with its long sleeves ending in straps, and she didn’t need to be a genius to realise what was going to happen next. But it was still too fast for her to catch. Dread and defeat spread through her body as a series of clicks from the back of the jacket signalled the locks engaging. She let out a shrill shriek of surprise as her limbs were pinioned and twisted, jerked out of place. Tiffany was past panicking with what was going on. It was all happening so quickly she didn’t have any coherent thoughts before she even realised what was going on.

Her arms were jerked violently behind her back. Was it trying to rip her arms out of their sockets, she wondered wildly? At this point she couldn’t discount that possibility. It would certainly immobilize someone resisting capture if the prisoner ended up with two broken arms, and she had no idea who this thing was calibrated to detain.

Tiffany got very nervous as the fabric around her moved again. It was hard to describe exactly what it was doing…almost like a belt being cinched tighter or a sheet being tucked in. It started at her waist, then moved up towards her shoulders, shrinking as if the garment had just lost two sizes. Holy shit! she swore to herself. It was getting tighter, shrinking around her. She was never getting out of this thing. There wasn’t a whole lot of breathing room, and she felt herself on the point of having a panic attack. Her breathing was one desperate gasp after another. 

The fabric moved again. Was it ever going to stop? After the second wave, it felt like she had managed to put on a jacket two sizes two small. The garment shifted once more, and she felt her body protest as it grew tighter still. Is it trying to crush me? she asked herself, panicking. There was an unpleasant pressure all over her torso. The jacket moved again…it was like the time that the unarmed combat trainer had put her in an arm-lock, then sat on her, pushing her face into the mat.

She couldn’t breathe; she wanted to speak but the thing had rung the air and the resistance out of her body. It was far too tight for her to bear/ “I give up, please stop”! she screamed. There were a series of clicks from all over the garment—it had locked into that position. At least it wouldn’t get any smaller, Tiffany thought. It felt like it was beyond skin tight, hugging every curve of her body as if it never wanted to let her go….

…Analyst Stockton: “You can see Miss Case drop the scissors in surprise, as soon as the case pops opens at 8:17:27. Could you talk me through what is going on, from a technical standpoint?”

Professor V: “Well, the ASJ…the Automatic Strait Jacket…immediately detects Agent Case in the room. You can see the five LED lights on the collar jump from dormant to green, then to amber, and finally to red in the space of two seconds as it activates. They match the colours on the remote. Once the ASJ activates, you can see it takes just two seconds to go from what we call ‘dormant mode’ to ‘hunter mode’. At 8:17:29, it has locked onto its target and has begun to deploy from its ‘dormant’ state. All the active motors inside the device are deploying and extending. By 8:17:31, merely two seconds later, it has fully reconfigured to ‘hunter mode’. Or as we sometimes call it, ‘spider mode’.”

Analyst Stockton: “Could you add a bit more detail about the spider mode for the purpose of this record?”

Professor V: “If you freeze the frame at 8:17:32, you can get a good sense of the device. These eight straps along the back of the garment elongate to form legs. There are a total of four clusters of these straps, with two per side at the shoulders and another two at the waist. We programmed the ‘hunter mode’ on the habits of a Jumping Spider—specifically, the largest and most aggressive we could find. It was quite fun, really”.

“For the two sets of straps, the legs at the front are longer than the pair at the back. It is designed that way to give it greater reach, but the two sets as the back are thicker and stronger. The sleeves of the garment are tucked up below, ready to act as a set of grappling limbs. Or, in this case, clamps, the same way a spider would use their mandibles to hold prey. The crotch strap is deployed almost like a tail for stability. The device does look a little menacing with those five LEDs glowing red right at the front. However, the main tracking sensor clusters are set below those LEDs. The main control chip is buried deep in the body of the restraint, so it’s hard to find and disable.”

Analyst Stockton: “For the record, what do you think of Agent Case’s reaction to the ASJ? Purely from the purpose of analysing the prototype, of course?”

Professor V: “The agent screams and tries to move back, and then makes contact with her filing cabinet. The small space really works against her. If she were not wearing those three-inch heels, she might not have tripped over on that unfiled report. She might even have managed to get away out of her office, locking the prototype inside. But by this point it is far too late. She’s trying to do something with the remote, but she’s already locked herself out of it.  By 8:17:34, the ASJ has caught up with Agent Case and locked onto her in several places with its prehensile powered straps. She is trying to fight it, obviously. However, it was designed to deal with superhuman supervillains, so she doesn’t really stand a chance at all.”

Analyst Stockton: “At the moment it doesn’t look too secure, even if you buckled her up in it. Even though she’s untrained, she looks like she should be able to wiggle out.”

Professor V: “In its main configuration it is several sizes larger than its target, making it fairly easy to cover the targeted surface area It’s what we have programmed as the ‘wrap portion’ of the deployment. It determines if the target is right- or left-handed and goes for their dominant side first. You can see Agent Case trying to push the ASJ away with her right hand, even though the remote is still in it. Immediately, the garment twists around and envelops her right arm. You can see her trying to pull away, but the wrap job continues. Her left arm is now in the other sleeve. She looks completely surprised as the garment fully wraps around her torso. Turn up the audio track, please…. Ah! You can just detect the series of five clicks as the jacket locks shut at the back. After this, she really has no chance of getting out. The time stamp is 8:17:37. The audio track contains her shriek of surprise when at 8:17:38 her arms are pulled behind her back. The ASJ is designed so that typically it will pull the target’s arms to the front. But Agent Case has managed to set everything to maximum security with her inept flailing.”

Analyst Stockton: “It still doesn’t look that impressive as a restraint at this point.”

Professor V: “That changes in a moment. You can see it swapping over to the ‘tailor’ mode, where it begins to tighten the jacket up. If you slow the recording down over the next few seconds…there! At 8:17:39 comes the first pulse. The material shifts as the garment clamps down on her waist and hips, then over her chest and shoulders. At 8:17:40 there is a second pass, where it detects and removes a lot of the remaining space. It’s now quite tight, but it’s nowhere near finished. You can see at 8:17:41 it makes a third pass. Now it is reasonably tight, and actually would usually stop here. But at 8:17:42 it gets even tighter during a fourth pass. It resembles a corset now, I suppose, with a bit of a gap left on the lacing. There you can see, at 8:17:43, there is the last pass. I suppose at this point Agent Case feels herself enclosed in a very aggressive corset that has been completely tightened. You can hear the clicks over the audio where the jacket size locks down. At this point she doesn’t have even a millimetre of wiggle room.”

…Agent Case had a little will left in her to resist, and she tried to pull away at whatever she could. She could still move her arms inside the jacket sleeves, even though the movement was not spectacular. But even that freedom was available to her for but a fraction of a second longer. There was a mechanical whir!, and the arms of the jacket clamped down, trying to tenderize her flesh or turn it into jello. She looked down, noting with consternation that the straps had met in front of her waist and they were getting even closer together—impossibly, they were still getting tighter. Oh god! Her shoulders were being pulled again, and her fingertips were going numb.

It was so tight—so horribly tight! She thought wildly that she might not be able to get out of this thing, but she was sure she could find someone somewhere in the building who was qualified to extract her. She needed to get out of her office and find them. With a surge of adrenalin, she lurched forwards, pushed her heels against the carpet, stood up, and moved forwards unsteady on her feet. She needed to hit the handle open the door and get out, but now the cursed thing still seemed to be contracting around her, not allowing her to make a quick exit.

Being trussed up like a turkey was humiliating, and Tiffany was sure that it couldn’t get any worse. Then she felt the probing strap invading between her legs, rubbing her panties tight against her pussy. She flushed red as her skirt was hiked up. The damn thing hadn’t even bought her a drink before becoming so intimate! Oh, it was tight! The fabric of her panties began to disappear between the folds of her pussy and the globes of her buttocks as the strap sunk into her flesh. Her jaw opened and she felt her eyes rolling back.

Then two more straps joined the first, cutting deeper still into her flesh where her thighs met her pussy, squeezing her pussy lips and panties between them. They were tucked up so tight against her intimate curves that there didn’t seem to be a millimetre of slack. She might have moaned Oh god! Her head was spinning! That attention was just too distracting. Her office door might as well have been a million miles away. Then, to add further redundant insult to the mounting list of injuries, two wide thick straps looped around the top of her thighs. squeezing them with crushing immobilizing pressure and effectively framing her buttocks. They seemed to want to turn her flesh into jelly. Her thigh muscles bulged either side of the wide bands as they sank in and locked. They were so tight! And of course it was all completely redundant. A hundred Houdinis would never be able to get out of this configuration!!

The jacket was far from finished, however. It still had a great number of devious accessories to deploy. Two straps launched from behind her and looped over her torso. For a moment they looked wide and round like a pair of bizarre hula hoops. Then they contracted, clamping down solid and firm with bone-crushing pressure. Tiffany’s poor breasts were squeezed between them like an orange being juiced as the straps dug in, nice and tight and immobile. She felt the air squeezed out of her lungs, further reducing her ability to resist. More straps seemed to emerge from the jacket at random places, over her wrists, elbows, shoulders—all adding redundant reinforcement, and all accompanied by little clicks! to tell her that they were nice and tight and not going to be released anytime soon. Methodically, all hint of movement was removed. Freedom of any sort was denied to her, as one by one every possibility to resist was systematically eliminated.

Tiffany realised that she still had the remote control in the palm of her hand. It felt like dead weight now, though, and a few attempted twitches of her fingers demonstrated that it was quite useless. Not that she could even move her fingers to click on the buttons, given the compression applied upon them. Even if she could manage to press the buttons, she figured the device would likely just find some way to make her predicament even worse. 

Looking down, she saw that the collar had three green indicators—that was probably a good thing—and two red ones—that was probably a bad sign! She sensed that they meant that the jinxed overcoat was planning to do at least two more things to her, so it wasn’t over yet by a long shot. What the hell else did it have left to do to her?

Suddenly there was something on the periphery of her vision, and she tried to twist around to see. Some sort of fabric looped around her torso from the back of the jacket. It moved around the front, then joined the other side to the back of the jacket again, like she had just been gift-wrapped in another layer of packaging. Quickly the wrapper compressed to an alarming degree. It felt like she was being shrink-wrapped…or perhaps that should be ‘vacuum-packed’. The angry Agent Case could feel that extra pressure on her waist and hips. It was redundant, of course, but not that bad compared to some of the additions she had already been forced to endure. She noted that one of the red lights had blinked to amber, then to green. The remaining LED, however, didn’t go out.

For a fleeting second, she thought that was it, but her moment of relief was short-lived. The jacket had already made up its mind what to do: the program only had one inevitable course of action left. The band around Tiffany’s neck started to close in. She wondered if it was going to be happy when it had strangled her, and hoped it would stop after a few moments. She felt a creeping chill as the device squeezed her neck. And then there was a rising collar around her throat. One inch…then two…then three four, it continued to extend. Was this her execution? Finally, when it was tucked under her chin, it started to inflate! She found she was still able to breathe, despite the collar.

Tiffany looked at the camera, ready to pronounce a comment on the whole situation. The pressure was not a ligature against her neck, which was a relief. She readied herself to curse, but before she could do so something extended from the collar and jammed itself into her mouth, removing the option of any further commentary! Her jaw was levered wide open, and something wedged against the back of her teeth and hinged her jaw further apart. Then a ball that seemed to appear from nowhere was jammed deep into the depths of her mouth. After that initial action, however, it continued expanding at a jaw-cracking rate. The ball was quite hard and firm, but it must have been hollow; still, it effectively stifled any protest. Straps wrapped around her head and locked tightly behind her face, so that she was compelled to bite down. In moments, the gag was reinforced with a muzzle and then a blindfold. Where are all these things stored? she asked herself, rendered completely silent.

Tiffany realised the device was aiming for total sensory deprivation, as earplugs cut off her hearing, pushing deep into her ear canals and then seeming to expand. She worried about that, but they didn’t get past the point of being a bit annoying and very disconcerting. Then her entire head was enveloped by a very tight hood that seemed to expand until it felt like her head was encased in a bucket of solidifying rubber. It was like she was being waterboarded in rubber cement, for want of a better analogy.

She felt her sense of direction and balance falter. She was cut off from every sensation, except for tubes being forced up her nose. Now everything had a thick rubbery tang to it, but at least she could still breathe. She panicked as the force grew, but the pressure on her head stopped increasing and seemed to normalise. With pressure from every direction becoming an unchanging constant, she began to adjust. It reminded her of a scuba-diving session she had gone on once. She felt herself breathing more normally as her struggles abated and she calmed herself down.

Tiffany’s plans of escape were now wholly abandoned. She could do nothing other than wait there and hope to be found. It should have been terrifying and horrifying, to be bound by some unknown force. But she just felt annoyed and rather angry, now that the attack by the phantom restraint was over. She simply had to live with the results. It was obviously some sort of high-tech booby-trap, and she was the idiot who had set it off. She was going to be mocked for months after they got her out of this damn thing…not a pleasant prospect.

She was now completely alone with her thoughts. She wished that the rescue party would hurry up, because it was incredibly frustrating to be in this predicament, maybe if she tried to leaver the jacket against the filing cabinet, no that didn't do anything positive in fact she jumped at the electric crackle. She stood there bored, tapping her foot, and took stock of her body’s sense organs. The tubes up her nose meant she couldn’t smell anything but the pungent odour of rubber. The plugs deep in her ears were one hundred percent effective at cancelling all noise. The blindfold and the hood over her head prevented all sight and touch, not even a gust from the air conditioning. Her hands were all sealed up and useless in the thick tight sleeves, like they were cast in lead mittens. She couldn’t touch anything at all. With the over-inflated gag in her mouth stretching her jaw she could taste nothing but more of the revolting rubber, which had become its own humiliation. Well, she thought, at least I won’t have to eat any cafeteria food today. Now Mosley can do his own filing, rather than try to impose on me. The things I do to get out of work. She cracked the joke to herself. She would be the only one who found it funny, she knew, even if somebody else could hear it.

Analyst Stockton: “Could you describe the rest of the process for the record.”

Professor V: “At 8:17:45 Agent Case tries to pull her arms loose. This of course is impossible by now, because the arms on the jacket have their own sizing motor, and it contracts, shrinking the sleeves until they are sadistically, cripplingly tight. The straps between the ends of the sleeves are drawn tight as well. You can see at 8:17:46 her elbows are quite clearly visible at her sides. But now the ASJ tightens further, and it draws them closer together. You can see her entire posture shift as her shoulders are wrenched back and there is nothing she can do about it. Two seconds later, by 8:17:48, the ends of the sleeves have been pulled around her waist. They have a very short and very secure strap between them.”

Analyst Stockton: “Is her attempt to get away making it worse for her?”

Professor V: “No, not really. At this point Agent Case takes a few seconds to orientate herself, and she actually manages to stand up. You will notice the collar of the jacket still has four red lights. It doesn’t consider her predicament to be strict enough. Regardless of whether she were sitting, standing, or running, it would have come to the same conclusion. So, at 8:17:50 it begins the next phase of securing Agent Case. You can see at 8:17:51 her skirt is hiked up by the deploying crotch strap. By the look on her face, you would imagine that it’s very tight—actually, from the look on her face I wonder if she liked that. However, remember that the ASJ is on maximum configuration. Its design is rather overkill for one Junior Agent with no enhancements. There is an additional dual crotch strap as well, so effectively three crotch straps are deployed by 8:17:52. Then you can see a set of nice thick, wide, dual thigh bands lock over her legs at her stocking tops, by 8:17:53, and the entire configuration takes a few moments to tighten. You can see how tight it is on her thighs. how much the straps sink into her crotch—how ridiculously secure the entire garment is! You will note that there are two green lights and three red ones on the jacket collar. It still thinks that the configuration is not sufficiently severe or secure, given the parameters that Miss Case accidentally managed to set.”

Analyst Stockton: “She really set herself up for a rough ride?”

Professor V: “Oh, yes, for sure. At 8:17:54 you can see the ASJ deploying a set of additional reinforcing straps around Agent Case’s torso. One above the bust line, one below it. They loop around the entire jacket and lock onto themselves, then shrink down and re-lock. A number of loops deploy themselves over these straps., and additional reinforcing loops are produced for the arms at elbows and wrists, where the two ends of the sleeves meet. You note the extra locking panel that has now deployed over the top? It takes a few seconds, but they are in place by 8:17:56. The jacket is now a bit tighter and a lot more secure, so the collar displays three green indicators and two red ones. Here Agent Case has finally noticed the indicators and the pattern. You can see she is not exactly ecstatic at the implications.”

Analyst Stockton: “Would you like a glass of water before you continue.”

Professor V: “Thanks, I am getting a bit parched. This analysis is proving quite fascinating…. Thank you, that was refreshing! Okay, we’re now at 8:17:57. The ASJ has determined an extra course of action to secure its occupant. Not that it really needs to, but she activated every setting in the prototype with her button-mashing. From the back of the garment you can see a smart fabric being deployed; it had been folded up in a sheet in the spine of the jacket. You can see it wrap around the agent’s torso, anchoring at the waist. It’s so tight it looks like it was almost shrink-wrapped over the rest of the jacket. It’s a very thin but very tough material. Now at 8:17:59 Agent Case has effectively gained a very tight, albeit very redundant, transport jacket over the top of what she originally had on. She looks a little relieved, doesn’t she, as if she’s thinking it’s all over. But as you can see there is still one red light in addition to the four greens. The ASJ doesn’t think that she has been properly pacified just yet.”

Analyst Stockton: “Do we have any way to release her?”

Professor V: “Not with the specially coded key locked inside the sleeve of the garment. You can see that the jacket is on its ‘final’ mode by 8:18:00. The collar around her neck starts to shrink, and she is starting to look worried. By 8:18:01 it’s fully tightened around her neck, and there is an additional posture collar being deployed. At 8:18:02 the collar is two-inches high, but by 8:18:03 it’s four-inches high and is starting to inflate slightly to form a structure like a medical brace. At 8:18:04 it looks like she is about to swear, doesn’t it? However, the jacket takes care of that for her, with those two jaw-spreaders pushed into her mouth. Then the harness gag deploys up from the collar, with a wide strap cutting into the sides of her mouth, a Y-shaped section over her nose, and a cinch-strap under her chin. It all self-tightens very quickly. The gag itself expands from about one inch to a two-inch sphere, all by about 8:18:06. She is really looking nervous by 8:18:08. The gag has increased to three inches across, and it’s now quite deep in her mouth. There’s really not much she can say any longer.”

Analyst Stockton: “Did you ever account for the possibility that the control might be held by someone targeted by the ASJ unit?”

Professor V: “In truth, no, we didn’t think anyone who could activate the unit would be stupid enough to stand that close. It’s like setting off a fireworks display and only standing two feet back. So, really, all this is not going to end well. I will have to construct something into future models of the remote that will prevent the restraint system from attacking someone who holds the control, unless a ‘trap-door mode’ is activated. Now, if we can get back to this exercise, you can see at time-stamp 8:18:10 the muzzle and the blindfold wrapping around her head. The blindfold is heavily padded…not that it matters. Then the muzzle really crams that ball deep in her mouth, don’t you think it might be four inches across at this point?”

Sitting around getting bored, she felt herself nodding off. Perhaps she could lie down in the corner, prop herself up there, get as comfortable as she could, and catch up on her sleep. However, just as she was getting drowsy she was promptly awakened by being hit on the back by her office door opening wide. She felt hope rising that soon she would be released, but as they seemed to be bumbling it quickly began to evaporate, and she wished that the rescue party had not arrived at all. Perhaps this rescue party could go away and a more competent group replace them?

There were people crowding into her office. People prodded her jacket, which resulted in a little electric shock to the person inside the jacket—Tiffany herself. You would think that the outside of the jacket would be able to electrify itself to dissuade tampering, but no…it activated inside. Time and time again some half-wit prodded her in the same spot with a pen, and she felt the jacket shock her in the same spot as punishment for the attempted tampering. Tiffany was not sure if the voltage increased each time that she was prodded, or if she was just a bit more sensitive in that spot with each shock delivered. Either way, she felt it was getting worse with each prod by this persistent moron.

Whoever was prodding her damn hood with a letter opener caused it to cut off her air supply. At least they had been trying to help, but she felt herself blacking out, choking, suffocating. She struggled and panicked, terrified that this was all there was going to be. What an ignominious way to perish!

Just as her legs were starting to shake and collapse as she was desperately gasping for breath, suffocating, and blacking out, the hood relented and gave her more sweet oxygen. She found that two or three sets of hands were holding her up, and it took her a moment to stop panicking. Someone prodding at the jacket with a pair of pliers, causing it to smack her on the ass. An ambulatory strap snaked out from the jacket and delivered a harsh blow to her posterior. Still the moronic meddlers continued with their fiddling. More prodding resulted in more shocks, as well as the hood choking her into submission again. She tried to get away, squirming to escape from the jacket and the people trying to get her out of it. Their incompetent attempts to free her were simply producing one punishment after the next.

Tiffany found herself suddenly squirming frantically to get them to desist. Then Tiffany felt the jacket move. Like a snake under her clothes, a strap wrapped around her breasts under her bra and squeezed tight. It was a warning and a promise if she persisted. But still the peanut gallery continued with their fiddling. She tried to throw them off, the jacket reacted, and now her nipples felt like an angry crab was attached to them. The clamps and straps were not letting go.

Could the random morons please stop trying to help her? By now it was bloody obvious that their efforts were not actually making things better. It was rather tight in the confines of her office, and several of the more lecherous members of the crowd had managed to close in on her, pushing their way to the front. Yes, the crotch strap is quite tight. Please remove your hand from there…thank you. No, groping and twisting my breasts is not going to help get me get free of the restraint system. No, my nipples are not some sort of release switch, so stop trying to use them that way, thank you very much! Agent Case wished that they would stop taking liberties. Squeezing her ass while they checked the tightness of the straps was not appreciated…. 

…Analyst Stockton: “Oh, yes, it’s a bit weird, I must admit. But Agent Case does look quite fetching like that. It almost seems that, with those curvaceous hips, she needs to bound.”

Professor V: “I would use the term born to be bound. The tightness of the restraint really make her rather generous assets stand out even more, with curves like hers its almost as if she was meant for this. Now for the final details. You can see at 8:18:11 the earplugs being popped in, then the front of the collar moves to prepare for the next phase. And so at 8:18:12 the first hood deploys. Its light, tight, white rubber appearance allows us to see every detail of her face and the gag. At 8:18:13 the second hood deploys, and quickly expands full of air—or perhaps some other expanding compound. I would have to check back in the notes to see exactly what I specified in the prototype. But it certainly seems like Agent Case is completely isolated in there. It is meant to be soundproof, and by 8:18:14 there is full sensory deprivation. As you can see, all five lights are now green; the ASJ considers her fully neutralised. So, how long did it take?”

Analyst Stockton: “It’s been 47.5 seconds from activation to completion. Not bad.”

Professor V: “When we get the final model into production we hope to have that down to 20 seconds, though of course that would be only for the Level 5 security. A basic Level 1 will be a lot quicker to deploy. You see here, in this footage, Agent Case tries to use the edge of a filing cabinet for mechanical advantage against the ASJ. Not that she would be able to make a dent in it. But watch the collar: one light changes from green to amber. You can just hear the electric crackle—and see how she jumps, like she has been stung in the rump. So, yes, the ASJ is working as I designed it. It’s an active restraint. If the person within it tries to do anything to get out…well…it has methods of dealing with the occupant so that future actions are all nice and well-behaved.”

Analyst Stockton: “This concludes visual and audio analysis. We will now proceed to carry out a physical examination of Junior Agent Case. Let’s agree to meet in room 12C in twenty minutes for the next round of analysis? Fine.  End transcript.”

Annotated transcript concluded….

…Someone senior must have arrived, because there was nearly a stampede out of her office as the peanut gallery dissipated. Some actual protocols and procedures were then enacted. Agent Case was checked over by someone with a modicum of professionalism. Then her office was sealed, either as an industrial accident or a crime scene possibly both. She was led away to a meeting room or something. It was hard to walk in three-inch shoes while blindfolded, and there was someone behind her who helpfully kept shoving her in the small of the back and spinning her around. Oh, if only they could hear her sarcastic wit under the gag, it would almost cut them. She was brought into a room, and some helpful person spun her around and around on the spot until she was dizzy. Couldn’t they have left her in a closet?

Then she was pushed backwards off balance, and she thought she was going to fall over. But instead she landed on a padded stool. Then someone then ever so helpful cuffed her ankles to the stool after patting her down. Were they afraid she might run away? Were they afraid that she was going to fall over? It was ridiculous, but then maybe she thought to herself had she ruined some experiment, or it was protocol for some interrogation? Did they think that she had tried to steal some top-secret restraint prototype by wrapping herself in it? There was nothing going on around her…well, nothing that she could determine. Tiffany Case was practically deaf, so there could have been a detailed debriefing, a top secret discussion, or a marching band going on in the same room and she would not have been able to tell the difference.

…In room 12C, Professor V arrived ten minutes before her colleagues. There was Junior Agent Case sitting on a abbreviated chair. Some kind soul had cuffed her ankles to the chair so she couldn’t wander about, and the key to the cuffs had been left on the table next to her. Professor V looked indignant. She walked over to the poor perturbed agent and released her ankles from the chair, then looked around the room.

“Remote recording suspension, authorisation V234GHI,” she commanded. She placed the cuffs on the table and began to gently rub Agent Case’s ankles. “Oh, you poor, poor thing. I will have to do a very thorough examination.” The professor began to run her hands over the bound agent, getting very personnel very quickly.

Miss Case tried to pull away from whoever it was groping her body. The restraint wrapped around her, however, decided that she was trying to resist, and one of the lights changed from green to amber. There was a sudden and fairly violent twitch in Agent Case’s body, and she immediately ceased any resistance to Professor V’s thorough examination.

For her part, the professor drew closer, licking her lips. She enjoyed the smell of the freshly manufactured restraint; its scent was heady to her. She practically pinned Agent Case against the table, her nose resting on Agent Case’s thoroughly enveloped cheek.

“You look so delicious I could just eat you all up,” she said, knowing full well that Agent Case wasn’t able to detect any sound at all. She placed one hand on Agent Case’s protruding right breast, the other following the lines of the crotch strap, and she smiled. “Yes, I could lick you all over like a cherry, until you’re ready to pop.”

…Agent Case realised that she had dozed off while sitting on the stool. She had no idea how much time had passed, but her interview or whatever was going on must be over. She was worried that they were not releasing her. Now that she thought about it, the remote clutched in her hand was probably what was required to release her! She might have accidentally broken it, and she was inside a prototype devise, some experimental thing. So maybe so there might not be another way to get her out. That, for sure, was very worrying!

Suddenly she was given something else to concentrate on rather than those dire thoughts. Someone was releasing her ankles from the tight cuffs. It was a female, judging by the feel of the hands, as they checked her circulation. Then that someone starred to gently rub Agent Case’s ankles, which felt quite good for a moment. Quickly she was pulled upright off the stool, and then those hands began to take a few liberties that were more than checking her circulation, running over the bound agent’s tightly pinioned body. Without anyone interfering, they began taking a lot of liberties, indeed, getting very forward very rapidly.

Her indignant squeals into the gag didn’t even register. The woman doing the investigation managed to slip two fingers between the crotch strap, rubbing her fingers over the taut panties pressed into Agent Case’s rather tightly compressed flesh! She found a spot over the agent’s clitoris and started to gently rub around and around. It was not entirely unpleasant, but still a massive violation of Tiffany’s person—not that she could do much to prevent it. Then the woman was very firmly nuzzling her right breast, her teeth teasing her nipple through the fabric.

Miss Case tried to pull away from the woman who was caressing her all over. She wasn’t sure where she was, or where any furniture might be. She worried she might end up tripping over the stool in her attempt to get away from those groping hands. One of the lights on the jacket collar went from green to amber, and there was a twitch in Agent Case’s body. The damnable device had decided that she was resisting arrest, or trying to escape or some other nonsense. It gave her a firm, clear warning of what resisting would result in, as jagged-toothed pliers-like nipple clamps locked harshly onto her strained buds and delivered a debilitating, electric jolt. She screamed in pain into her gag, which of course muffled every single decibel. Tiffany staggered from the pain and would have fallen over if not for the woman holding her so tightly. Then the helplessly bound agent felt another metal object hovering over her clitoris. The jacket had chosen to imply what it would do next. It had beaten her! She sobbed into her gag and stopped resisting the thorough examination of her body.

The fact that she had stopped even the most pathetic struggling against the assault spurred on her assailant to new heights. The unseen woman practically pinned Agent Case against the nearest wall, then slid her into the corner from which she had no place to back away. One of her persecutor’s hands was on her right breast, twisting it like a balloon filled with water. The woman’s own body was pressed against hers, pinning her in place tight as a vice. The other hand followed the line of the restraint as if Tiffany was a Christmas present and it was squeezing the wrapped package all over to work out what was inside. The woman examining her domineeringly slid her thigh between Agent Case’s legs, rubbing them together, which the bound agent decided wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

The woman’s lips began to press down on Agent Case’s face, on top of the gag and the hood, so that she could barely feel the pressure as it was applied. Another leg inserted itself between Tiffany’s thighs, and she was forced to spread her legs wide open, as humiliating as that was.
 
Tiffany was in no position to resist, as the controlling woman began squeezing her body like a ripe bit of fruit ready to be plucked. Her restraints were so damn tight she couldn’t resist. The fabric over her breasts seemed very thin all of a sudden, as if it was implicated in her assault. Then there was a shift in the restraint, a real surprise for its occupant. The front of the hood shimmered, and a section of the restraint disengaged and folded away. A rough square with oval edges around four inches across, perhaps a bit more, appeared. The hood slowly manoeuvred around internally, the pressure over Tiffany’s jaw dissipated, and she could actually sense some air movement.

The gag shifted further, then it disengaging an inch…and then an inch more. The ball extracted itself from Agent Case’s mouth with a plop and a river of drool. It took some time to pull itself totally free, and then hung below her chin. The captive’s jaw remained tightly wedged open to its extreme, held in place by several diabolical hooks and wedges. Her lips and mouth were freely accessible, stretched wide, kissable and inviting, an open invitation to her tormentor to further indulge herself.

It was too much for the bound woman. There was a moment of a pitiful surge of resistance. Agent Case tried to pull away as the woman leaned in to kiss her. The jacket immediately disciplined her, as she felt the clamp give her clit the minutest pressure, and she ceased her resistance before the voltage could start. Tiffany let the soft lips press down upon her. Their lips locked, their tongues played together, one rather enamoured and one less willing but none the less quite an enthusiastic participant. The dominating female custodian, whoever she was, hugged her barely squirming partner tightly and bent her back, pressed against the wall, grinding their hips together…. 

…Professor V was rather excited herself. The tighter the package, the more it turned her on, the more she wanted to make it even tighter, so that the situation spiralled in one ever-increasing feedback loop of more and more extreme domination. Her sexy little test subject had that pleasure to look forward to, even though this was unknown to Agent Case for at least the moment but heavily implied from her current predicament. Miss Case, of course, was in no position to resist, as the professor began to squeeze her like a stress ball.

Professor V took a lengthy look at Miss Case’s long legs, and then made the decision that she needed to personally take care of the woman until she could be extracted from the prototype. The professor felt she was partially responsible. After all, she had designed most of the restraint systems.

She whispered in the general area of the agent’s ear, low and seductive, even though there was little chance she could be heard. “Don’t worry, Miss Case, I will look after those long, helpless legs of yours.” She pulled something out of her lab coat that looked like a cross between a walkie-talkie and a remote control for a particularly cheap toy car, and set about adjusting the device. “First, let us make you a bit more comfortable. I have a remote control here. It won’t release you. But I can control certain functions. Let us begin with the force-feed option.”

She pressed a few buttons, and the front of the hood shimmered. A square area, appeared on the hood and slowly shifted, moving forwards an inch, and then another. A panel with a four-inch ball behind it extracted itself from Agent Case’s mouth and hung below her chin. The view showed her jaw tightly wedged wide apart, held by those diabolical fetters. Her lips and mouth eminently kissable and deliciously inviting. Agent Case tried to pull away as Professor V leaned in and made contact, trying to kiss her. The jacket immediately disciplined the captive, and she stopped resisting the intimate kiss.

The professor hugged her partner tightly, playing her like an instrument bending her back. To the professor it felt rather good to have this woman in the unyielding restraints. After a minute, she sighed, returned the agent to her full upright position, and reapplied the gag. When she had finished, the hood looked as seamless as it had before, and Miss Case was just as muffled as she had been previously, oh but she tasted so good like wrapped candy.

…The kiss went on and on. Tiffany was finding it difficult to keep track of time, sensation, or even managing to breathe properly. And then their lips were separated, the moment broken. Before she could even try to mumble some sort of coherent word or plea through the rest of the harness, the mechanism sadistically reapplied the gag. The ball seemed even larger this time, as it forced its way back between her jaws, the unwanted intrusion muffling any protest. Tiffany wondered whether it would have been worse if she had been left to continue drooling on herself. At least, she guessed, it was more hygienic this way. Meanwhile, her warder had produced a cloth and was casually wiping her restrained body clean.

When Analyst Stockton arrived, Professor V was looking quite pleased. “My prototype remote can affect some degree of control, it turns out, but unfortunately I can’t override the lockout, as the main remote is still stuck inside the restraint with her. Still, I have other options, so that we can take care of business for her, maintaining her life functions. Of course, I can give her a good through examination in the meantime. Um…I mean it is crucial that I give her a really thorough examination in the meantime.”

Professor V moved closer to her prey. “Now we shall try the ‘auto-strip’ function, to make her a bit more comfortable. It will shred every square inch of fabric between her and the jacket.”

The professor activated something on her remote, and immediately there was a buzzing, grating noise that began quite low but then increased in volume. Miss Case began to squirm about in the jacket, although this time it was not as result of being disciplined. After a moment a flap appeared opening up from the jacket at the back. There was a blast of shreds of white cotton or cotton blend—what was probably the remains of Agent Case’s top.

…Something shifted inside the jacket, as some new function was brought on line. Tiffany anticipated that the jacket was about to administer some other way to make her even less comfortable. Sure enough, she felt a vibration as the jacket started to make some sort of noise, as if there was a motor somewhere inside it revving up. After a moment, she realised that it seemed to be at her back. The vibration started off low and began to grow from there. There was a tug on her garments as something was anchored in place. Tiffany started to squirm about in the jacket as something prodded her inside her garment, making her move.

Surprisingly, this time it was not discipling her. It was a deliberate action—something was pulling at her clothing! She could feel some cold piece of metal moving around inside the jacket, running over her clothes, and it was very worrying to her. As the device moved about inside the restraint, it pressed against her skin. She felt her shirt being cut to threads, the fabric being shredded around her. Then some mechanism or hook snagged it and it was pulled away from her body. Tiffany felt the mangled material being expelled. Her top was gone!

For a second the crushing, cradling force locked around her breasts seemed to lessen. She felt her bra snatched away, and then the confining torsion and compression resumed. Everything snapped back into place, including the cold squeeze of the clamps on her nipples! Immediately, her bra was the next item to be chewed up and expelled.

The rest of her clothes quickly followed the same pattern, the last bits of thin protection over her body snatched away. Although they had not provided much protection, now her skirt and panties were gone. Her only covering, her only modesty, was now provided by the tight weave of straps from the jacket. The wrapped agent tried to squeeze her legs tightly together in embarrassment….

Agent Case’s bra was the next item to be chewed up and spat out by the mechanism—lacy fabric turned to confetti, including scraps of elastic and two bits of bent wire that were probably the under-wiring of the cups. The mechanism proceeded to deal with all the other garments between it and its victim. The skirt and panties Miss Case had been wearing seemed to be sucked into the jacket.

The jacket’s activity ceased, and so did the sound of its operation. Agent Case’s stockings and shoes remained intact, as well as a suspender belt that must have been in there somewhere. Professor V imagined that, under the hood, Agent Case’s expression must have been one of distress at the entire affair, being powerless to do much about it.

Her captor responded by stroking Agent Case’s unfettered legs along the seams of her nylons. Then the woman controlling Tiffany’s fate and comfort decided to change her predicament further. There was another humming, and the jacket started to shift. Tiffany was now under no illusion. Whoever this woman was could control the restraint. Agent Case was like this because the woman controlling the restraint devices wanted her to remain like this, desired her to remain like this! More fabric blossomed from behind her, moving down her legs like a river of flowing silk. An ultra-tight skirt seemed to emerge from nowhere, pulling its way down her legs from the waist of the jacket, almost as if it was unwrapping from its hem, fast and tight. Tiffany’s shapely thighs were soon pinned together by the fabric, then her knees as well. The skirt moved from side to side: the left-hand hem of the skirt shifted an inch, then the right-hand side, and so on. When it had reached all the way down to her ankles, something looped under the arches of her feet, making her bondage even tighter and also making it impossible to remove the three-inch heels strapped onto her feet….

Professor V was in a world of her own as she stroked Miss Case’s nylon-encased legs. “Now for the hobble-skirt function, to keep those nice legs of yours out of trouble.” She hit a button on the remote and the jacket started to shift. An ultra-tight skirt seemed to emerge from nowhere.  The agent’s legs were soon pinned together by the fabric,  straps under her shoes compleated the restraint from crown to heel. Agent Case was even more distressed now that she had lost the last bit of her freedom. 

Professor V stoked the tight skirt, “Now, you and I are going home, and I am going to give you a very thorough examination, you poor little thing. You need a nice cuddle.”

…Agent Case found herself pulled backwards until she was standing on some sort of platform or trolley. Her back made contact with a rigid metal board that had a bit of padding on it. To ensure that she stayed in place, straps were added, crushing her ankles, squeezing her knees. Another redundant band cinched around her thighs, an extra thick belt at the waist squeezing her figure in. There were straps at her chest, then more straps over her breasts, making them tighter, angled so that they cut in and made her flesh bulge out. Her handler began to squeeze and knead her pert, bountiful breasts through the fabric. This was probably actually worse than being captured by an enemy agent, Tiffany concluded. In that scenario there was at least a slim chance that her own people might bother rescuing her. But not this….

Analyst Stockton rolled her eyes. But of course! It fit perfectly that the professor who designed their high-security restraints turned out to be a bondage fanatic.

Professor V pointed to one corner of the room where a hand-truck was resting, then turned back to the analyst. “Help me get her on this transport dolly…. Yes, that’s good. Now, I’ll just strap her down nice and tight.”

Stockton looked away as the professor set about further immobilising her test subject, applying straps and more straps. The test subject certainly couldn’t get away from the professor, who began to further examine her unwilling volunteer, groping and caressing the packaged victim. “Oh, yes,” she whispered. “The two of us are going to work very closely. We are going to test out every square inch of my invention that keeps every square inch of your body so helplessly captive. And with what this beauty is made from, it might take me weeks—or even months—to get you out of it”!

Analyst Stockton handed a clipboard to the scientist, “I have the department transfer forms here.”

Professor V looked like she had won the lottery. Stockton indicated two places for her to sign. “Until this matter is resolved as per your request, I suppose it would be best as you suggested to management that Agent Case is attached to your project team as a quality assurance tester.”

The professor squeezed the bound agent’s bottom and nodded. “Yes, that would do lovely.”

Analyst Stockton nodded. “Please sign here…and here…. So, you can have her; she wasn’t doing much of note otherwise.”

The professor beamed as she shifted the handcart and began the trip back to her private quarters. “Don’t worry, Agent Case, I’ll be keeping you company now. You can stay in my quarters, in my very own bed. There will be plenty that the two of us girls can do to keep ourselves amused. Of course, I might have to strap you down in the bed so you can’t wriggle about too much.”

As she was wheeled off to her fate, Tiffany Case came to grips with the knowledge that she was going to be a test subject for a very long time, if her captor had her way. And she was having her way in every way, indeed.