Cheating and Caught
©2021 by Bob2300 (deviantart.com/bob2300)
Edited by Dannysuling (deviantart.com/dannysuling)

Camilla—Cammy Smith-Wraththorn—was the product of a very wealthy family, the product of more than several generations of accumulated wealth. Her upbringing went far past the point of privilege. Her parents’ marriage was treated as a merger of two sizable corporate entities rather than a romance. But her parents were there for her and her two brothers, despite their many social and financial duties that weighed on their time. Cammy had the benefits of wealth and people who knew how to apply it. Or at least how to employ someone competent to manage it for them. And someone else to discreetly check for any embezzlement, with the entirely expected outcome for the young heiress that her wealth grew without her strict attention.

From a relatively young age she had access to a fitness instructor, and together they designed an exercise plan and even stocked her personal gym. Cammy’s body became lean and athletic, a balance between strength, flexibility, and endurance. The importance of a healthy regular routine was instilled within her. 

Cammy also had the benefit of an expensive nutritionist and a dermatologist, to make sure that she ate well, enjoyed her food, and yet had a healthy and balanced diet. She was provided with products and makeup that complemented her complexion, and her skin was creamy-smooth and free of blemishes. Her vision was corrected so that she didn’t need glasses. Her teeth had been straightened and whitened, resulting in a cheerful smile. Her hair and makeup were a production managed by a professional makeup artist as competent as any in Hollywood.

Yes, Camilla Smith-Wraihthorn was pampered, young, and attractive—and she knew it.

Of course, Cammy had always been pretty to begin with, and the expensive accessories helped to accentuate that impression. A pretty girl in a pretty dress looked all the more fetching. The correct posture and bearing were the foundation, and the fact that others noticed that her attire was expensive also helped. When she went out, she was typically dressed in exclusive custom-made shoes accented with an expensive, unique, designer handbag, antique sunglasses, and a precision Rolex watch. As an ensemble, they broadcast that she was from a highly affluent stratum of society, where the air was thin, refined, and expensive. She presented herself in public as the classic rich girl, externally vacuous, and yet there were some deeper notes to her personality—some twists that she was not so straight-laced, not just a pretty face to be dismissed out of hand as a trust fund castaway.

For example, when she was young she was quite certain that she was a lesbian. She came out in a rather scandalous fashion on her sixteenth birthday. When, in the middle of the party, she discarded her current boyfriend who her parents had set her up with. She then flirting heavily with his sister instead, which left the boring blowhard gasping and speechless. The scene caused Mommy and Daddy some embarrassment. But the resulting argument behind closed doors settled the matter and family life resumed, albeit with a different equilibrium. 

Cammy was also smart—actually, incredibly smart. Rich people who were not smart often became poor people very quickly. It was easier to get a good education when one could afford the best tutors and had near-unlimited support. So, Cammy did well at her private school. Then she attended the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The beneficiary of a strong work ethic installed in her by her parents, she studied engineering, artificial intelligence robotics, and automation, and graduated near the top of her class. But Cammy was not at all happy to sit and laze around on her trust fund, doing nothing with her education. She had her own ideas on how to rebuild the family’s businesses in the coming decades to better serve industries not yet created.

Her upbringing was not surprising. Her other siblings also had their own fields of interest. One brother graduated as a lawyer, specializing in corporate law. Another brother graduated as an accountant, looking to qualify as an actuary.

At twenty-one-years’ old, Cammy Smith-Wraththorn’s earlier crushes had long since faded out of her life, and she found herself in a relationship with a rather astoundingly proportioned and exotic amazon beauty. This girl of her dreams from the islands was named Andressa. She was older than Cammy by a good six years, had not had such a privileged upbringing, but was very attractive. Just under six feet tall without her heels, she had positively sinful proportions and a drum-tight, immaculate, bouncing derriere that wiggled invitingly with every step she took. It reminded you of a ripe luscious peach just below a waist that looked like it should have been created with the application of a tight corset. A pair of gorgeous legs with long, muscular, sculpted thighs tapered to perfect, trim ankles and calves. 

Andressa’s flat stomach displayed just a little hint of muscle definition, and her generous chest was of natural proportions that required rather a heavily engineered bra to inhibit the hypnotizing bounce. Her pouting, sensuous lips were full and lustrous, her cheekbones perfectly framed, her deep brown smoldering eyes had long flirty lashes, and her smooth silky skin, cocoa-butter soft and flawless, was a rich color between caramel and mocha. And though most of her appearance was due to nature’s spectacular generosity and an obsessive approach to the gym, some of her assets had been artificially accentuated over the years to make her even more vivacious, alluring, and voluptuous.

Andressa was very charming, very beautiful, and elegant. However she was a bit of a gold-digger, though when people used that label they were being more than polite. She had met Cammy while working her way around the richer parts of the world, looking to become a trophy wife to someone exceedingly rich, famous, and powerful. She noticed that she had caught Cammy’s eye at a yachting club function, a private event that she had managed to get herself invited to. Andressa was, of course, quite a flexible person, including in her sexual preferences. She was quite happy to be bisexual as long as it was for a suitably rich girl. She really didn’t mind if they both wore a dress going down the isle, as long as they were expensive dresses. So she made a few enquiries as to exactly how rich Cammy was. Then, quite encouraged, she set about seducing the younger girl. Yes, a true gold-digger.

Cammy was young and naïve, and she gave her whole bare vulnerable heart to Andressa after a very short but sublime introductory period. However, she was not completely without some guile despite her rose-tinted view. For example, there were times when Andressa exhibited strange behaviors around others, which Cammy noted were distinctly different from how the woman behaved around her. Andressa would get a message on her phone, turn her attention entirely away from her, then delete the message. And there were inconsistencies between what Andressa posted about and what she actually did. 

Cammy didn’t want to confront her lover; she saw no need to upset the boat. Still, she had been warned by both her parents about Andressa, after they had first met her. Since they themselves had both come from wealthy families, they were watchful of anyone who tried to join the club by marrying a fortune, rather than creating it themselves. Cammy was not going to completely ignore their caution, which remaining a tiny nagging hint at the back of her mind. Eventually, she had some spyware installed in Andressa’s phone. She reasoned to herself that, after all, she had paid for the service contract and the phone itself. 

A day later, her protective information-gathering bore unexpected and alarming results. As she looked at her monitor, her knuckles went white as she gripped the edge of the table, her lips narrowed and twisted into a feral snarl. When she scanned the captured image for a second time she began to cry, and she could feel her heart withering and shriveling up in her chest. It was one thing to go behind her back to cheat on her, and Cammy felt that if it had been with another woman, she herself would have suggested an energetic threesome together. But it was another thing to bed a man. That proved to her that Andressa’s professed love for her was just a lie. Cammy realized that Andressa cared only about her money…well, her family’s money. That enraged her. Cammy began shaking as well as crying.

When her eyes stopped weeping, and she knew for certain that where her heart had been, where those warm feelings had once been, there was now a lump of hard black ice, a cold, calculating anger vibrating through her synapses. She concluded that there was only one inevitable outcome for her former lover. No one screwed with her, Cammy told herself. No one broke her heart like that and got away with it.

She could feel the mounting sadistic thoughts intertwining in her head, and the inevitable result was a plan for revenge growing in her mind. Now, simply cutting Andressa off was tempting; she could accomplish that immediately. For Cammy had not erased her lover’s debts, but rather was merely paying only the interest on Andressa’s combined credit card arrears. Andressa’s car was leased, and so was the phone in her purse, and the place where she lived was rented. It would be a simple matter to leave her traitorous lover with absolutely nothing but the debts she currently had. And maybe some sort of punitive lawsuit as well.

Cammy considered that plan, but this insult deserved an altogether different and more potent response, one that Cammy was perfectly capable of crafting, something quite unique to her skill set. It would be an act of sadistic retribution she would enact on every curve of Andressa’s perfect body, something enduring that would last for years. She would take her time, and it would become a perpetual punishment for her lover’s searing betrayal.

The rich girl looked into the matter of her partner’s infidelity in more detail, to try and determine how much she had been taken advantage of. Every additional detail she uncovered made her increasingly angry and Andressa's eventual fate that much worse. She examined her partner’s travel history and found that it didn’t match up. For example. For the time period where she was supposed to be visiting a day spa, it turned out that Andressa had booked a ticket but never used it. She had never appeared at the spa. Instead, she was fucking her lover in a seedy motel room paid for in cash. And Cammy quickly discovered that it was not just that one time.

But there were no more tears after the first reveal. Their relationship was a lie and Cammy knew it. Andressa had been cheating on her almost from the beginning of their relationship. Cammy identified her lover’s partner as one of Andressa’s so called ex-boyfriends. The preening Italian wannabe actor Rolando. Everything she found spurred Cammy on to retaliation. Every additional revelation drove her to fine-tune the details of her revenge.

Cammy embarked on designing certain technologies using her engineering expertise, skipping a certain amount of testing for faster deployment. A great deal of money was spent, and her plans rapidly fell into place. She retrieved some of the industrial technology that she had designed earlier, then set about modifying it to the nefarious purpose that she intended. Soon all was in place to build the foundation of her vengeance.

Then she made the hardest phone call of her life, where she had to ensure that her true feelings remained cloaked, hiding her hatred and contempt. She knew she was going to need some time to make this plan of hers work. She had a friendly conversation with Andressa, letting her think that she was still the one in control, that no part of the mask had inadvertently slipped. In the conversation, Cammy remarked that she would be taken up with the family business for a week, something really important and time consuming, and as she had predicted Andressa asked her to pay for a little trip away, which she agreed to, sending Andressa off for a week of pampering. Cammy also casually mentioned the refurbishment of one of her properties in California, the one that the two of them shared most of there time together. 

When the call ended, Cammy had a wicked grin on her face. She could now devote her full attention to tweaking that California holiday home, turning it from a lovers’ nest into something else entirely. She chose the property that Andressa, that freeloading bitch traitor, was using at the moment free of charge. She was going to modernize the property over the course of a week, transforming it into a rather unpleasant surprise for its current resident—not that Andressa would have much chance to object once the trap had been fully sprung!...

...A week later, Andressa returned to her condo. She was relaxed from her time at the spa, and she had done a lot of swimming and aerobics. She was looking forward to spoiling herself with a little expensive champagne from the cellar and some fancy Demount Swiss chocolates. She had purchased that particular brand of chocolates not because she liked them particularly but because they were the most expensive that she could find. The exclusivity meant more to her than the actual taste. She was expecting to see a new driveway and Cammy there with the champagne waiting for her. But the younger woman was curiously absent. Normally, she received several sickeningly sweet calls a day from her younger lover, texts that were thoughtful little messages. But this time while on vacation she had received hardly anything. On the other hand, Andressa thought that if Cammy had to keep the family business running, that was fine with her. Still, she found it a bit odd, since she thought that she had the young, rich little brat completely wrapped around her finger. 

What Andressa actually found upon arrival made her heart skip a beat and a lump form in her throat. She had to ask herself whether what she saw was a new high-security fence and gate that had been installed around the property. She shivered, wondering if there had been a break-in, a theft, or an assault in the area—something unmentionable that had prompted the new fortress-like look of the property. She stopped her car before the fence and looked carefully. It was taller than she was by a good ten feet, and tipped with spikes. Actually, it seemed to her more like a fence designed to prevent someone from getting out and escaping. The spikes were inward-facing to prevent climbing up from inside the property, and there was a fine mesh between the poles preventing a person from poking something through between them.

For a moment Andressa was dumbstruck. She looked nervously about, and noticed that the side gate to the property seemed to be completely gone, replaced by still more of the new impenetrable fence. This made her old key useless, and for a second she was worried that she might have been locked out of her own home. Still, she had her remote control, and pressing the button she found it still worked at opening the new front gate. The new gate was set into a deep channel in the ground, and seemed to have more in common with something from a prison, especially since it had been designed without the ornate decoration of the other gates guarding homes in the area.

She had a few conflicting thoughts about the situation. Was her lover doing this for their protection or perhaps trying to keep prying eyes of some paparazzi out of her business? Andressa eased her foot down on the accelerator, and the car moved forwards. As she drove onto the property, the gate slid shut behind her. She turned back to look just as it closed and locked, and she noted that there was no longer a direct view of the access road on the outside. No one could see in, nor see out. To Andressa, it looked like the property was now much more private, so that once inside one was effectively cut off from the world. The mechanism on the gate was buried in the ground, with no obvious way to get it to open from the inside. She felt her heart skip a beat, and she pressed the remote again. There was now no movement of the gate, and Andressa felt a nervous fluttering in her stomach. Deep inside the property, something rather remarkable sprang to life and slowly started to power up.

She looked around once again, murmuring to herself, “Cammy, what have you done”? As she drove up the driveway she observed the heavily renovated house and garage. They had been remodeled, with thick bars on the windows and sturdy roller shutters over the doors. She was not pleased to see this, of course. The place looked more like a prison now, with the yard retaining a few plants but no longer a pond. It seemed to Andressa that the redecoration had stripped everything back but had not been finished. Her mind battled with various concerns over the drastic changes, but ultimately in her arrogance she dismissed them. Yes, that was it! Andressa reassured herself. It hadn’t been finished yet. She had nothing to worry about.

She drove her car round to the double garage on the side. She noticed a shutter over the front door and, with a worried look, she tried the remote again. The signal was received, the camera’s footage was reviewed automatically against a data log, and the target was confirmed. The next stage of the proceedings was prepared. She was relieved that the door to the garage opened, but the sound was different, which once more triggered a little nervousness. The garage looked a bit off, too. It was bulkier than it ought to be.

Despite Andressa’s misgivings, she drove in and parked her car in the orange box painted on the floor that awaited her. The cameras checked on the location. The computer program running in the depths of the property confirmed the telemetry and released the appropriate prepared counter-measure. Immediately there was a hiss and a loud creak, and Andressa jumped in her seat. She suddenly exhaled, just stopping herself from screaming, as something hit the vehicle. From the floor of the garage, clamps quickly extended, latching onto the car wheels front and back, completely covering them. The garage door suddenly and rapidly dropped like a dead weight and locked firmly shut behind her. Andressa looked very uncomfortable. She felt a nervous tingle down her spine, and wondered if her lover had tried to build some ‘house of tomorrow’ or other automated gadget. Was her car about to be stacked in a new underground garage? She called out, “Honey, this isn’t funny!” but she got no response. She could see the large yellow wheel-clamps in the side mirrors.

Andressa thought to give Cammy a call and find out what the hell was going on. She was not going to tolerate this a moment longer. She felt the blood rush to her face, and told herself she would need something expensive to make up for this little surprise. She pulled out her cell phone but quickly noticed that its signal registered no reception at all. “You have got to be joking,” she said aloud. Suddenly she worried that her seat-belt and car door might be locked, and that she was trapped in this spot as part of some strange game. She felt a chill of fear that her lover might have finally found out about her cheating.

Her entire attitude, her entire set of mannerisms, flipped in that one moment from confident and domineering to quite worried. Very nervous now, Andressa reached down to her seatbelt buckle, and there was a reassuring click as it released. She breathed a sigh of relief. She looked at the door handle as if it were the first time that she had ever seen it. Then, slowly, as if it was going to try to bite her, she gripped the handle and gave it a good hard tug. There was a second, and then the lock disengaged and the door swung open a few inches. Andressa sighed again and pushed the door all the way open. She swung her body around, planted her heels on the concrete floor, and took a step out, making sure she was gripping her purse. She walked the few steps to the garage door and tried to push it open, but found that it was very thick and heavy, and several bolts had locked it into the door-frame on the bottom and sides. She had no tools, no key, no leverage, and no way to get it open. The door’s motor was even sealed up in some metallic box on the ceiling with no visible override or control.

She felt a sense of fear welling up inside her but she pushed it back down. “Cammy, this isn’t funny. What the hell is going on?” she called out, but silence was the only answer that followed her complaint.

The computer system ran the appropriate program linking to the external hardware—Andressa's phone and car. The higher functions of the program started to slowly boot up, ready for future tasks, and compiling their last change log. Andressa slowly walked back to her car, circling the expensive vehicle and looking at the clamps now gripping the wheels. Each had a large black rubber cup pushed on over the hubcap so as not to damage the tire. Each wheel was sandwiched between the thick plate at the front and a grooved piece at the back that avoided the axle. Firmly captured, each wheel was not going to be doing any moving. Andressa slowly bent down, her generous proportions straining against her tight dress, and had a closer look with the torch from her phone. She could identify no release mechanism, no key hole. Each clamp was completely automated.

She suddenly remembered that Cammy was a genius when it came to these sorts of mechanisms and devices. She had only sort of believed some off what Cammy had said, dismissing a lot of it as grandstanding. Now presented with what was in front of her, she had to reassess what she had earlier thought was not possible. Apparently they didn't just hand out those sorts of degrees because some of Cammy's grandparents had donated buildings to the university.

Quickly, she looked at her car again—she didn’t remember shutting the door! When she endeavored to get back into the car, she quickly found that all doors, and the boot as well, were very firmly locked. The panic was rising to the point she thought she might lose it, but she crammed it down into her gut good and tight. Still, a bit of it flickered to the surface, spilling out as Andressa kicked the car wheel with her shoe in frustration. In a vain hope that Cammy had missed it, she tried the remote to open her car door. Nothing. Then she tried the physical key. But both devices seemed to be completely useless.

What the hell had Cammy done to her car?

Andressa had to stop herself from throwing the remote at the car, which she knew would not achieve anything. Her chest heaved up and down under her top at an accelerated rate, her breasts straining to escape their confinement. Her heart beat was hammering, as she chewed nervously on her lower lip. Had she stepped into the ‘Twilight Zone’? She looked around for a way out, and noticed, high up by the ceiling, that the LED light illuminating the garage was sealed away behind some sort of wire cage. There was no chance of her reaching it, and in any case she couldn’t break it, even if she threw the tire-iron from the trunk at it—not that it was accessible to her. Looking further, she noticed that there were now cameras installed in each corner of the garage ceiling. She looked up at them, knowing full well that they were tracking her movement, and then waved to the closest one. In an exasperated and indignant voice, she asked, “Are you enjoying the show, Cammy?”

The most rudimentary of the computer’s higher functions were activated. Already feeling spooked about things, she almost jumped out of her skin when the light went out in garage, and she screamed in surprise. For a couple of seconds Andressa merely stood in place, wondering what the hell she was going to do. She breathed in and out and slowly, trying to calm herself, then reached for her phone to switch the flashlight on again. Then suddenly the garage’s illumination went back on, produced by a trail of white LED lights in the floor. They were pulsing in one direction, clearly indicating a path. She looked up at the camera again. “What’s going on, Cammy?”

Andressa examined one of the bulbs, then stomped down on it with her pointy, strappy heel, finding that there was a thick plexiglass cover over the light so that she couldn’t break it, or really even scratch it. When she straightened up again and once more looked about the dimly lit enclosure, she noticed that now there was only one door leading from the garage, where before her vacation there been others. Clearly they had been sealed up during this unsettling refurbishment. She ackowledged the significant amount of planning that must have  been put into this.

Very nervous now, even a bit upset, Andressa realized there was nothing else she could do. She guessed that Cammy had found out about her cheating, and that this entire set-up was some sort of elaborate punishment. Inside her head she was telling herself that her Cammy was a sweet girl who would never do anything to really harm her... right? Tentatively she took a few steps forwards, her four inch heels clicking on the concrete, giving the only door her full attention. The thing looked to her like something that would be installed in a prison or institution. not something one would find in a holiday home. Perhaps, she thought, the garage had been converted into a ‘panic room,’ and that what lay beyond the door would bear no resemblance to any such enclosure. But as Andressa opened the door and moved through it, she found that the room beyond bore no furniture or decoration of any kind, and she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that was getting deeper and deeper by the moment.

Andressa continued to move forward, entering yet another nondescript room. Immediately she noticed additional cameras in the ceiling corners. She shook her head, commenting aloud, “I guess it’s a weird game you’re playing, Cammy, but I will play along for now.” It wasn’t as if she had much option.

The program running the show slowly became more complicated, as more instructions and operations came on line. As she reached the next door, she heard a series of clicks, like latches disengaging, and then the door swung open on its own. 

With a building dread, Andressa continued moving forwards, each footfall leading her closer to some inevitable but unknown doom. She muttered under her breath, “What shit have I landed myself in this time?” She went through the door into a hallway she vaguely recognized, but which was completely different from any she had already walked through. It was very clinical, painted a stark blank white. There were more lights under plastic-and-wire-protected cameras high in the corners, apparently documenting each move she made. All the art prints and paintings she remembered being on the walls were now gone. Idly, Andressa wondered where her own belongings might have moved to, as she took a few more steps forwards. The iterative subroutines underlying the program ran their next inevitable instruction. Suddenly the door slammed shut and locked behind her, before she could even turn around.

Andressa defiantly put her hands on her hips and pulled her shoulders back. She was wearing a pair of shoes that were very expensive yet looked quite unremarkable even tacky, but they elevated her to a height of nearly six-foot-four. “Oh, come on, Cammy. Enough with this haunted house bullshit,” she complained.

Once more she examined her immediate surroundings, getting increasingly nervous at these developments. This new enclosure’s exits all appeared to be high-security doors. She pushed against a few, and found unsurprisingly that all were locked. There was no apparent way to open them, no handle or doorknob, or even a button to press. She acknowledged that she couldn’t do anything that Cammy didn’t want her to do. It was an inescapable trap she had walked into. She couldn’t go back and she couldn’t go forwards.

Andressa was not a fan of this new security system that dogmatically following its programming.

There was a creaking sound, and Andressa’s head whipped round. A door slowly opened to the right of her with a theatrical ominous creak. A white light above that door flashed slowly, lazily, off and on, and she half-expected Cammy to be standing there as a joke or surprise, but her lover was absent. Andressa walked up to the threshold of the doorway and, with a nervous foreboding feeling, stepped through it. There were stairs with lights on the handrail. She tried to pull the handrail off the wall to get some sort of prying bar in her hands, but the handrail was very solid and she didn’t get anywhere with it, as the door behind her slammed shut. The lights were flowing in a pattern urging her forwards, up the stairs to an unknown destination and purpose. She could feel herself starting to sweat a little with mounting anxiety, that uncomfortable clammy feeling at the back of her neck. Feeling her pulse pounding, she shouted, “Cammy, what’s going on?” but nevertheless mounted the stairs. In those towering heels she had to exert a little extra caution, as the doors all locked behind her, leaving no way back and only one way forwards. At the top of the stairs there was another security door. At least a little curious to see what was at the end of all this, Andressa stepped through that door and into a hall, then onwards through another door.

The computer kept monitoring her activity, the program switching from one set of sensors and input streams to the next as she moved through the extensively altered building. Her final destination was a little disappointing. She had been delivered into what was basically a wet-room. It was a strange remodeling of what had been her en suite bathroom, if she had the position about right. The door, of course, shut behind her the moment she was inside. With a puzzled look on her face, Andressa cautiously examined her surroundings. The room had big, heavy, white tiles on the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. There was what looked like a shower folded up like a concertina in one corner. So, this was a shower room! And there were more of the by now ubiquitous cameras in each ceiling corner, installed inside waterproof plastic bubbles, all trained on her. There were also half-a-dozen strange silver nozzles high up on the walls.

Andressa told herself she wanted no part of any of this; whatever it was, it was simply too bizarre. It took a few moments for the reality of her predicament to catch up with her flustered mind. Unfortunately, at that moment more of the computer program’s subroutines initiated the next exercise, the first true test of what Cammy had been constructed. The computer began to track the position of each exotic ebony curve of Andressa's athletic body, the precise placement of each sculpted limb as triangulated by the extrapolated feed from the four cameras tracking her. 

She turned and pounded on the door, finding of course that she was locked inside the bathroom. She screamed at the top of her usually sultry voice, with more than an edge of desperation, “I don’t want to play this game!” And for the first time, her protest seemed to have a result. There was movement above her, and she noticed that the silver nozzles were beginning to shift, tracking her just like the CCTV cameras were. This was an ominous turn indeed.

The AI program carefully and quickly analyzed the situation from a thermal camera noting the subject’s core body temperature to a direct feed monitoring her mobile phone. From a hidden speaker, a metallic voice addressed her. Its message was not to her liking. “Test Subject One, please disrobe and strip naked.” The voice was clinically cold, as if it was announcing a special offer on a bag of frozen peas at the supermarket. Andressa immediately decided she would not comply.

Blushing, she stared indignantly at the camera. “Cammy, what’s going on? This game isn’t fun—and I am not going to strip naked!” She moved to a corner of the room and leaned against the wall. Once more she stared at the cameras contemptuously, then raised her middle finger and pointed it at each one in turn. She tugged momentarily at her dress and then shook her head. “I am not giving you a peep show,” she said defiantly. She crossed her arms over her bounteous chest and leaned back further.

The computer slowly analyzed the resultant behavior, and found that it fell well beyond what would be deemed as compliant. Therefore it began to prepare the prescribed countermeasure for defiance of its assigned directive. Being locked in a room that Cammy controlled remotely felt like some sort of creepy Halloween horror movie. She sensed that Cammy knew that she had been cheating on her, and assumed this had to be some elaborate way to scare a confession out of her. But she intended to keep her mouth shut and see where all this was headed, the caramel-skinned beauty nervously fussed with her hair, cautiously eyeing the nozzles pointed at her.

Andressa was shaken out of her reflection by a click that sounded like a valve opening, originating from one of the nozzles pointed at her. There was a sound in the wall like the whir of pumps. She already had her hands up as she was sprayed in the face with a jet of cold water from the closet nozzle, which then aimed lower so that the cold water hosed down her clothing from top to bottom. Protected for a moment, her back was splashed indirectly off the wall, and soon she was soaked to the skin.

The trapped woman emitted a gurgling, indignant squeal. She was frozen for a moment in jarring shock, The water was very cold, as if it had been refrigerated. Her dress, soaked and ruined, clung to her shapely curves, the top part practically transparent and displaying her generous bust to the cameras. She was completely drenched, her hair plastered to her pretty face, her, her make up ruined. Even her handbag was full of water, which she tried to tip out, almost dropping her phone on the floor that in any case was now ruined, almost literally money down the drain.

She looked indignantly at the camera. “Cammy, have you gone psycho? That was not funny. Fuck you!”

The computer ran this new series of actions from the irate ebony Amazon against the behavior it had on file labeled as compliance, and drew one conclusion: escalation. The metallic-sounding voice asked her again, “Test Subject One, please disrobe and strip naked.” Once again she refused, huffing “Fuck you!” She repeated her middle-finger gesture at the nearest CCTV camera, and tried to stand up straight and tall, even though she looked like a drowned rat and had considerable difficulty balancing on the wet tiles in her high strappy heels. 

Her defiance was met with much greater force, as once again she was sprayed with cold water. There was a lot more of it this time, with two nozzles aiming for her. She tried to skip out of the way, her long shapely legs scrabbling to keep balance lest she trip and land on her shapely behind, but the nozzles were fast and easily hit her at what seemed to be a greater pressure, water was bone-chillingly cold. One hit her knees, the force almost enough to send her tipping over, the other her face which she protected with her raised arms, and they kept repeating the up-and-down coverage.

A moment later there was a whirring sound, and vents opened up in the ceiling. Hidden fans activated, drawing away any remaining warmth in the room, until the entire enclosure was like a cold box. Andressa didn’t have a chance to say anything or make any further defiant action. She simply tried to curl up and keep the continuous spray out of her face.

The punitive program had quite a way to go, however. Andressa expected the spray to stop any moment, and was astounded that instead it seemed to continue without interruption, becoming increasingly powerful, like a hail of dull needles against her skin. Then a third nozzle turned on, hitting her directly. Andressa tried to brace herself, but she was forced down onto her knees, unable to balance on her heels on the wet floor. This was not a position that the soaked beauty enjoyed, as she felt shivers running over her flesh. Soon a fourth nozzle joined the attack. As the pressure kept ramping up she was finding it difficult to breath. She coughed up water, almost as if she were being drowned. With great alarm she wondered exactly how far Cammy was going to go. She dimly realized that this was not some sort of death trap, because the room was not slowly filling with water. In fact, any accumulation was flowing away into the corner drains. But the water was freezing cold, sucking all body heat and resistance from her in a very short time. Then the remaining two nozzles added their force, the pressure now very intense. The direction of the nozzles became a more precise stream, forcing her to the ground and pinning her to the hard, wet floor, and Andressa was forced to lie there as every crevice and crack of the sumptuous statuesque vixen was pelted with icy spikes of cold. Andressa was barely able to do anything but splutter and squirm about.

The nozzles kept her there for another minute or two, then mercifully shut off. 

The program paused, waiting for new data to analyze, as Andressa took a few seconds to react to the sudden elimination of water pressure. She lay there on the floor, trembling with the onset of shock. She found it difficult to move, her limbs were unresponsive, and she tried to roll onto her side. She was hugging herself, trying to rub some life back into her flesh, shivering and shaking as she tried to rise. The once imposing and striking woman was left in a poor bedraggled state, her dress outlining her frozen, defeated body, She failed at the attempt, falling and landing on her ass. Andressa whimpered. She couldn’t believe what Cammy was actually capable of! She slowly, painfully crawled over to the wall and used it to brace herself as she slowly climbed back up to her feet.

“Okay, Cammy,” she said, her voice exhausted, “you win. You win. You built this fun house and I guess I have to give it to you. Tell me what you want me to do and I will do it. Just no more water, okay?” There was no defiance in her eyes.

The program again analyzed her behavior, and concluded that it now matched the requirements for progressing to the next stage. More sophisticated subroutines were executed, and a more nuanced AI regarded the drenched mocha beauty shivering before it. She was whimpering to herself as the metallic voice sounded once again. “Test Subject One, please disrobe and strip naked!”  But to Andressa it seemed so much louder this time, as if it was rattling in her skull. She tried to ring the water out of her hair and pull it from her face to see what was going on. There was a clunk, and a metallic hatch opened up revealing a hopper about a foot off the ground. This step had been delayeduntil it was sure she would comply, and Andressa’s terror grew as the house appeared to be quite smart, which was very, very worrying.

After a short pause to help herself stop shaking, Andressa complied. She tossed her soaked purse into the hopper first; it was ruined, as were the contents. Slowly she bent down, giving at least one of the cameras a perfect view of her round pert buttocks with the wet dress clinging to them. She was careful not to fall down on the wet tiles. It took her shaking fingers a moment to undo the straps to her shoes, which then went into the hatch. She was mortified that Cammy must have known about her cheating to have taken the time to prepare this complex trap for her.

The house’s AI program decided to add clarification as it watched her complete her task. “Test Subject One, please remove all Accessories!” it announced peremptorily. Andressa’s expensive jewelry, almost all of it purchased by Cammy, was next. From her earrings to her necklaces, it all went into the waiting container. The room seemed different to her, now that she was four inches shorter with her heels gone. It looked a lot more intimidating, and she could feel the cold against the numb soles of her feet. The heels had improved her figure, making her buttocks more pronounced, given her a thinner ankle and a better-toned leg, but without them she still had a figure worthy of any athlete. Her freezing limbs made it hard to unzip the sodden garment, it was a struggle to wiggle out of the tight fabric, but her wet dress joined the other items. She sighed and deposited her belt into the hopper, too. She had been trying to think of something she could do with it, but no solution came to her. Next, with some additional effort, she reached back and unhooked her bra, letting her large breasts hang freely, the two generous mounds barely sagging. Finally, Andressa bend down to peel off her stockings, then paused—and froze. There was a whir from one of the nozzles as soon as she had she ceased stripping. And so, with this threat of more cold water, her red thong panties joined the pile. A moment later, the hopper retracted and the hatch shut and locked.

She looked rather pathetic with her makeup running down her face. Her eyes were focused on her feet, her shoulders slumped, her arms wrapped around her body in a feeble attempt to keep warm. She could only hope that whatever was to come she would be warmer. Andressa whimpered, “Please…no more…I will behave.”

The AI appeared satisfied with the verbal cues, and the analyzed behavior confirmed taking a next step. The tiny, compact cubicle appeared to activate in one corner of the room, then quickly expanded to the size of a telephone booth. Its lock released and its double doors folded open. Andressa looked around the room and noticed the movement of one camera pointing at her. The light above the shower flashed, and she concluded she had been invited to enter into the cubical. “Test Subject One, please advance!” She began once again to look around for some escape, in vain of course. Andressa didn’t want to know what awaited her, and she could feel a sense of claustrophobia just looking at the shower.

The light above the cubicle began flashing more emphatically, “Test Subject One, please advance!!” Andressa uttered a defeated sigh and shuffled slowly into the cubicle dragging her dainty feet, each step carrying her closer to the inevitable. She felt her heart beating louder as she got closer and closer. Then she yelped and jumped as the door suddenly shut behind her. As she watched, unbelieving, the panels that defined the perimeter of the shower room began to close in, contracting around her like a crushing cage. The sides pressing on her shoulders, Andressa started crying and screaming. “Sorry! Please, no, don’t do this to me!”

She twisted around in the confined space and banged on the door, “Test Subject One, please remain still!” The response to her protest was that she got hit with another spray of cold water, chilling her body further towards hypothermia. Then there was a whir and a hatch opened above her. A pair of thick silver manacles descended from the ceiling on an articulated rod and hovered above her head. Andressa whimpered and looked for any sort of escape, but she was trapped in a tiny little cubical in a locked room, and now she was about to involuntarily surrender more of her limited freedom.

Andressa looked up and whimpered again “Please, don’t….” as the cuffs opened and close impatiently,  “Test Subject One, please comply!” She was hesitant to resist, and yet she didn’t want to be naked and trapped even further. Her frantic deliberations were interrupted by another spray of freezing cold water shot down at her. She imagined her lips turning blue and, resigned and helpless, she slowly held out her shaking manicured hands and reached up.

The manacles descended and lock around her slim, elegant wrists. Andressa pulled, testing their grip, but they were thick, heavy, stainless steel and didn’t budge. She would never be free of them, she knew, unless Cammy or her machine released her. There was another whir, and the cuffs began ascending. Andressa struggled and fought, but she was like a fish on a line. She begged for it to stop, but the pain in her wrists kept growing as more and more of her weight gathered at her delicate joints. Soon she was at full extension, like she was stretched out on a rack, her large pronounced breasts pressed against the front of the  shower, her lithe arms straining at full extension, her legs shaking, barely able to function they were so cold, and still the manacles continued to ascend. Andressa tried to use her feet and legs to brace herself against the sides of the shower to take the weight, but her limbs just slipped off. Andressa was hoisted up until she was just standing on the very edge of her tiptoe, the siren’s majestic feet and legs cramping horribly. Her naked buttocks pressed tautly against the back of the enclosure. She was fearful that she was going to be suspended off the floor, left to dangle by her wrists in agonizing pain, but thankfully she was just left in this helpless position. 

The house computer was very slow and careful, not fully understanding ‘Subject One’s’ limitations. With her trapped body hanging like a side of beef, the shower expanded again, so that it gave a foot of clearance around every part of her, making her helpless, quivering body nicely accessible. A complex apparatus that looked like regular shower heads rather than a firehose or faucet descended. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, trembling, having no idea what was to come. A moment later Andressa was sprayed with warm soapy water, not incredibly hot compared to everything else that had happened to her, but still relatively pleasant. It was a relief compared to the previous assault.

She was shocked as something touched her, and she shrieked in panic. A series of scrubbing brushes on mechanical arms had descended and began working over her entire body. The bristles tickled her smooth caramel flesh as they moved up and down over her limbs, her taunt legs, and her unprotected armpits. They moved slowly at first as if they were gauging the lay of the land, and after the first pass they sped up, then sped up again. The cuffs holding her wrists high above her head slowly began to spin, and she was forced to awkwardly twist round, dancing on the spot with her dainty tiptoes like a ballerina, as her position shifted and the brushes vigorously addressed every square inch of her naked skin. Finally the scrubbing brushes retreated, and a moment later soft sponges began to wipe her down. The hot water and the soft caressing motion on her skin felt like heaven compared to the freezing cold water torture that she had been subjected to only moments before.

Andressa felt her body rapidly warming up as she was being put through another cleaning cycle. Her shivering had stopped and her core temperature was rising, as some of the strength and confidence returned to the lioness body. She was sprayed what might have been shampoo, or perhaps soap or some sort of body wash, and as it lathered up she closed her eyes, but it didn’t seem to sting. A moment later, more warm water washed over her. Then she was lathered up with the sponges which, after a short time, were swapped out for the scrubbing brushes

The house AI focused on its job, mechanically giving every part of the bound woman a very intricate cleaning. It carefully cataloged how she reacted, constructing models for the stages of processing that were to come. The body cleansing went on for five or ten minutes; she had no way of knowing exactly. Finally she was sprayed with clean warm water to wash off all the soap and foam. The brushes had been quite intimate, working over the soles of her feet, her sensitive bouncing breasts, and between her legs. At some point a new set of robot arms appeared, which rubbed her down with what looked like fluffy towels wrapped around rollers. It was like she was imprisoned inside in some sort of scaled down car wash. Andressa was very worried; she was trapped like an animal in a cage in some sort of automated prison. She conceded that Cammy could probably keep her like this for a very long time, if the rest of her routine could be automated in such a manner. Her heart was filled with a nervous fear, her pretty sumptuous mocha lips now in a perpetual nervous frown.

A specific, intricate, and invasive operational program was unpacked and operationalized, and the AI executive became ready to execute it. From the black unfathomable depths of the hole above Andressa’s head, another apparatus descended. Before she realized it, the device had grabbed her elegant neck and held her throat in a tightly padded vice, like a neck-brace, only wrapped a little too tight around her. Andressa screamed and tried to move, but of course she was held firm. She tried to speak, ready to beg for mercy. But actually she didn’t manage to get one word out. Instead, as she opened her jaw, clamps invaded her mouth with an unsettling whirring noise and forced her jaw all the way open. Andressa almost lost her mind to panic there and then. A thick blue nozzle descended until it was level with her face, hovered in front of her mouth, then squirted something inside. Andressa was forced to gurgle some minty mouth wash, spluttering and spitting it out when the device finally relented and released her jaws. She gasped for a moment in relief, but then the jaw spreader returned and cracked her mouth open even further. A number of spinning toothbrushes were suddenly scrubbing all over her teeth, accompanied by random squirts of toothpaste. 

The hatch started to make a rattling buzzing nose halfway between a toothbrush and a faulty transformer. Two spiky prongs appeared directly in front of Andressa’s face. Her eyes opened wide in fright and she tried to scream again. She was terrified at what Cammy might do to her. Just as suddenly, a large padded clamp grabbed her tongue and held it down and out of the way. For a moment she was fervently hoping that the prongs were not going to act like something out of a horror movie, that they were not going to remove her tongue and scrape away her vocal cords so she could never speak again. But instead of her original gory thoughts, the prongs moved gently into her mouth. She winced, ready for some horrific outcome that she was powerless to avoid. She was taken completely by surprise as they began working between her teeth, scraping away tartar and plaque, then retreated so that her mouth could be rinsed again with the same minty mouthwash. Finally her neck was released, and she was left hanging against from the wrist-cuffs, gasping like a fish out of water. 

Her mouth felt like it had just been stuffed with cotton. Andressa absolutely hated dentists. As a young girl she had to wear heavy braces for years to get her perfect smile, and she had hated every minute of it. This little experience had not helped to change her mind one iota. She realized that that Cammy was quite familiar with her fear of dentists, so she had probably designed the mechanical intervention to specifically frighten and unnerve her—and she admitted to herself that it had worked very well! She ran her tongue over her lips. “I swear you made that lot ten times louder than they needed to be just to scare me,” she complained. “Well, Cammy, it worked, so congratulations.” Still, it was reassuring that so far Cammy had not arranged for any permanent damage to be done to her.

On the other hand, Andressa suspected that there would be some sort of harsher treatment waiting for her. But it would be something that she could endure; she was sure of it. Running her tongue over her teeth, she found them the cleanest she ever remembered them being. Cammy sure could design a machine! This thought made Andressa even more worried about what was in store for her. She tried to shift, but she was still stretched out by her wrists—not the best position to be in.

The house computer checked the program and then rechecked it. The sequence didn't seem necessary, but it was encoded to perform it so it began the next sequence. Something emerged from the floor below Andressa and acted so quickly that, before the imprisoned athletic woman even realized that there was any movement below her, it had grabbed her straining ankles. They were quickly secured to the floor with something similar to the item holding her wrists, encircling her ankles in tight steel bracelets that pinched and squeezed against her straining hamstrings. Then her legs were slowly spread, forcing Andressa to shift and tense up her body—her wide hips, her taut buttocks, the way her shoulder muscles were pulled back—and her entire pose shifted, forcing her to curve her spine into a more pronounced position, thrusting her naked breasts forward. She sobbed and squirmed, but to no avail. Her ankles were eventually positioned about two feet apart, her toes barely touching the floor tiles, her big toes straining downwards. She shook from the exertion of holding her feet in place as if she were wearing invisible high heels, her body utterly at the mercy of the assorted sadistic mechanisms.

Andressa heard a hissing as something else ascended from the floor behind her. She closed her eyes and gritted her now-sparkling teeth, knowing she couldn’t stop whatever it was that was about to happen. A second later she felt her body sprayed with lubricant from behind, and she jerked as if stung, her breasts and buttocks quivering. The lotion hit her rosebud and the area between the meaty circular globes of her ass. Suddenly her bottom was being invaded by an very intrusive butt-plug nozzle. She sobbed, then begged, “Please, Cammy, don’t do this,” she cried out. “You know I hate anything in my rear.” But the tip continued to slowly nuzzle against her asshole, then slowly began to rotate!

Andressa felt her muscles lose the fight, and the tip of the plug slid home, her scandalously sexy, scrumptious rump spread apart to accommodate the girth of the intruder. Her body was pushed forwards from the force of the plug and the arm supporting it, and she felt the widest part of the plug pass into her body. Then her rosebud closed tightly around the thinner base of the plug. There was an ominous gurgle and water began to flow into her. She pulled on the wrist and ankle cuffs, trying to free herself from the humiliating proceedings, but they didn’t yield even a millimeter. And so Andressa was given a humiliating enema, then was forced to retain the weight of liquid inside her bowels for five minutes. When finally the liquid and the waste it had loosened was flushed away she was greatly relieved. For a moment she thought that it was over. She was sure that Cammy had designed this enema to exploit her hatred of any form of anal play. You don’t need a plug that large to administer a damn enema, she told herself. But then she had a creeping realization that the nozzle was still firmly lodged up her ass, and she shuddered, knowing that the enema was far from over, that it had been merely a warm up.

The house computer ran its calculation, analyzed the results, and began the next round, Sure enough, the unpleasantly filling enema plug began to vibrate, and the pumps once more whirred into life. The nozzle actually inflated  expanded in her rectum, and not by a small degree. Instead, it pressed up and in with more force, sinking further into her body. The next enema seemed a little larger, and whatever cleaning solution and laxative was in the mix felt a little bit stronger this time. The first time she had endured the enema she barely noticed the sting of detergent. Now, though, it was like someone was pouring liquid soap into her ass; it was itchy and she squirmed about, frustrated held in her restraints. She soon felt bloated and uncomfortable, as if her guts were churned up with soap-suds. She could see a little of her belly expanding. Andressa’s vocalizations quickly began alternating between begging for mercy and crying. And, rather than the five minutes of retention she had been subjected to the first time, this time she was required to retain the soapy water’s presence for fifteen full minutes, until finally and mercifully it was flushed away again. She was red-faced now, praying at this point for the humiliating assault to end, yet the plug again showed no signs of leaving her alone, and was still lodged deep in her ass.

The mechanized item in her rectum vibrated once again, then expanded to eye-watering proportions that had her thrashing in humiliation and sobbing, which only managed to make her large breasts bounce about. Much to Andressa’s discomfort, it was digging ever deeper inside her canal. She hung her head in defeat as, inevitably, she was given a third, much larger enema. She could feel her guts beginning to crawl, her belly slowly inflating. It was as if she had the worst indigestion of her life. The cramps were growing worse and worse, and the soap seemed to be almost burning her insides. She desperately pulled at the restraints, trying to get away, but of course it was futile.

Andressa was left hanging there, squirming, for thirty minutes, as the mixture percolated inside her. She sighed in relief as finally it was flushed away with a little warm water. Then the apparatus retracted completely from her rectum and anus, leaving her cleansed from top to bottom. She actually felt the lubricated plug ease from her rear with a plop! They could have deflated it all the way first! she thought, but noooo! Her ankles were released, and the restraints around her wrists slowly lowered her until she found herself sitting on the wet, tiled floor, her bottom aching. When the shower opened up, she crawled out of it.

Andressa examined herself. She had no makeup left on her face, not even a trace of it. Amazingly, even her nail polish seemed to have been removed somehow.

The house AI was now up to its full speed; it had all the preliminary data it needed for ‘Test Subject One's’ body. The lights in the wet room suddenly dimmed, and the door on the other side of the room opened up to expose another room directly in her sight, brightly lit. “Test Subject One, please advance!” Andressa was hesitant to move forwards, considering how unpleasant her last experience had been. But then one of the nozzles pointed in her general direction, and the threat of another freezing cold, icy soaking made her stir. She looked up at the camera, held her hands up in supplication, and began to move, though not particularly quickly. Andressa was in truth a broken and shattered remnant of her former arrogant bitchy self. Her confidence was almost depleted, her self-esteem left on the tiled floor, after all she had already endured. She still wasn’t about to admit to her affair, although she was pretty sure that even a confession wouldn’t save her. Cammy had shown that she could be very sadistic, and her lover expected even more punishments in the near future. Considering the complexity of this renovation, Andressa reasoned that Cammy probably knew about every single moment of infidelity that had been committed over the course of their relationship.

Hesitantly she walked forwards into a sort of closet or antechamber, perhaps five-feet-by-five-feet but with a taller ceiling. Andressa was pretty sure that her walk-in wardrobe would have been in about this spot before the refurbishment. She hoped that Cammy hadn’t thrown out all her possessions that had been stored there. On the other hand, she thought she would settle for being put out naked on the street if it would end this ordeal.

The door behind her inevitably shut tightly when she was just over the threshold. She looked back at the sound. “Come on, Cammy, can’t you show me a bit of mercy? Didn’t we have some good times? Can’t you please let me go?”

The house computer prepared its next trick, Light suddenly illuminated two holes in the wall at hand height, if Andressa chose to hold her hands out. But she was reluctant, very worried what would happen to her if she put her hands through the openings. A second later the metallic voice sounded.

“Test Subject One, place your hands in the indicated receptacles.”

Andressa looked around the room, observing that there were no nozzles to hit her with a stream of water. So she shook her head, refusing, confident in her stance. “No way am I putting my hands in there!” she declared aloud. “Do you think I’m stupid?” 

The AI had already decided what to do based on her lack of movement. Andressa immediately discovered that the silvery floor was capable of being electrified. The first sparks hit the poor soles of her feet, making her jump a foot in the air, her assets bouncing around. She came crashing back down to the floor, winded and immobile, her muscles spasming like she had been tasered. In that position she received the second shock through her side. The once proud amazon femme-fatale squirmed on her shocked haunches, squealing in an undignified manner. She looked around wildly, but there was no way to get away from the floor given the smooth sides of the room.

After a few minutes recovery, Andressa whimpered, “Cammy…please,…you don’t have to do that to me…. Cammy…I-I will behave like a good girl….”

She sobbed, half-reclining there on the floor for a second, wary of the possibility of being shocked again. She then slowly began to crawl across the metallic floor to the device, using the wall to brace herself and rise up, still feeling the effects of the strong jolts of electricity. The defeated seductress rubbed her backside. The shocks had hit her hard, and she tried to get feeling back in her body, tried to clear out the residual cobwebs. Andressa took a deep breath, then inserted her hands through the two openings. Immediately, something with a rubber lining locked tightly around her wrists. Andressa panicked and pulled against the restraints, straining with every desperate muscle of her sinuous, nubile, caramel-colored body. “Please, Cammy, let me go. Don’t hurt me…please don’t hurt me.”

But it was far too late for pleading. She felt her hands being coated in some sort of warm rubbery material, which rapidly cooled and hardened, shrinking unpleasantly tightly around both hands. When her wrists were finally released, she slowly and with great trepidation removed her hands and looked at them. With horror she saw that both hands were now encased in oval rubber mittens, rendering her fingers completely useless. There was no way she would be able to remove them. Still she tried experimentally to rub them against each other, to hit them against the wall, even to use her teeth. Nothing she tried left as much as a discernible scratch on whatever the material was.

The house AI looked at the cameras and concluded the procedure had been a complete success. Andressa stared at the camera and held up her hands. “So, Cammy, I guess you were hiding your interest in bondage all along. Did you always want to tie me up and play the dominatrix?” She meant it to sound sarcastic, but her voice didn't hold that edge to it.

She was startled as a hatch above her opened and slid away, revealing another black void. She watched in trepidation as, very slowly, what looked like a straitjacket was lowered into the center of the room. Andressa barely realized that she had retreated to one corner of the enclosure. Now, as she observed the restraint, it revealed itself to be a very high-tech straitjacket indeed, puffy and bulky, with a great number of reinforcing straps. As if someone—Cammy?— had crossbred a straitjacket with a puffer jacket and a sack of steel straps. Andressa was now entirely convinced that Cammy was a closet bondage enthusiast, and that she was destined to spend a lot of her future encased in that very intimidating-looking white and silver jacket. She began to back away, though of course that was not possible. Actually, she was reduced to moving around the perimeter of the small room.

The computer initiated the next step of the program, in preparation of the test subject’s behavior, one last ridiculous stunt, loaded with a set of parameters to watch out for. The metallic voice cheerfully announced, “Test Subject One, please insert your arms into the jacket provided.”

Andressa shook her head—and immediately received a jolt of electricity through the soles of her feet, leaving her twitching on the floor in a heap of sprawled limbs. After perhaps ten seconds, she slowly got into a sitting position, held up her mitten-encased hands, and gasped, “Okay…enough with the electric shocks. I will play along. I guess I am your little bondage plaything from now on.” The jacket remained hanging suspended from two cables that connected at the shoulder and led up into the ceiling.

Andressa had just enough strength for one final act of defiance, one impulsive, stupid, futile gesture to try and escape. She didn’t consider the consequences as she tried to leap up and grab onto the jacket, thinking that somehow she could leverage her grip to climb up into the hatch and escape the electrified room, to get away from the electric shocking floor.

Her initial leap got her a good two feet off the floor and she clung to the jacket, trying to figure how to get a grip and climb up with her mittened hands. However, Cammy had designed and programmed her prison to handle any possible escape attempt. The cables holding the jacket promptly lowered, until her prisoner was once again touching the floor. Andressa’s feet were then given another powerful shock, and she collapsed to the floor like a rag-doll, or a puppet with its strings cut. She screamed, then desperately dazed she got up again, slowly, wobbling. That last jolt had been pretty powerful, and her brain and body had had enough. She did not want another taste of punishment. Slowly, Andressa moved to comply, pushing her immobilized hands into the sleeves of the offered jacket.

Despite its outsides looking fairly comfortable, the inside of the jacket was quite tight. Andressa discovered this as she had to struggle to force her hands into the sleeves. The garment was also crammed full of technological additives, so as soon as the mittens were in the ends of the sleeves the material contracted around her arms, bands locking at her wrists, elbows, and shoulders and clamping down tightly. The straitjacket now fitted Andressa very tightly from just above her hips to her throat, with only her lovely head and legs sticking out, And there was no backing out at this point; she was truly stuck in the device.

The full-bodied ebony captive could hear the noise of something else moving above her and coming close. She wondered how exactly the jacket would be closed, but it seemed, of course, that Cammy had designed something for that, as well. Andressa wasn’t exactly in a position where she could twist around and see exactly what was behind her, but she caught a glimpse of a mechanical arm—or possibly a cluster of arms—descending out of the ceiling behind her back. Those arms moved down to the bottom of the jacket, and a second later her body felt the compression at her waist, as the garment was fastened there. Counting the motions, she figured that there were ten straps from her neck to her waist, and the machine tightened them each until they were very snug, then went back over each strap and took up the slack. When the jacket was so tight that it was squeezing the air out of her, the machine secured it in place by bolting shut each strap so that there was no way the buckles could be undone without a dedicated articulated tool.

The house computer linked to the hardware peripheral, then initiated the designated ‘Straitjacket Test 1’. Andressa hung in place, the jacket very tight, its fabric growing significantly tighter as it seemed to contract around her, squeezing her breasts, cradling them tightly. She realized that the material must be a sort of ‘smart fabric’. She had no idea what controlled it, but vaguely recalled that Cammy had spoken very excitedly about its applications. Andressa wished that she had paid more attention to Cammy. She was wondering exactly what she was now wrapped up in, and more importantly what it might do to her.

She tried humor. “Cammy, not that I don’t appreciate new clothes, but this jacket’s kind of tight. Don’t you have a larger size”? The machine ignored her, and Andressa had to wonder if Cammy had automated all this or was watching from remote monitors, playing with controls. By now, she was starting to think it was entirely automated.

Suddenly, two of the robotic arms grabbed the sleeves of her jacket and pulled her limbs behind her back. She cursed her supple vulpine body’s flexibility as her arms were folded tightly behind her until her shoulders were aching, her elbows were practically touching, and the ends of the sleeves joined by a strap in front of her tummy. Andressa found that her reverse hug was infernally tight. Andressa noticed a loop on either side of the jacket that her arms had been fed through, just in time to watch them clamp down as a redundant layer of restraint over her arms. She tried to tug her arms experimentally, and found they were practically fused to her torso at her waist—she had been transformed into a futuristic vision of bondage perfection. She had no wiggle room at all, and was absolutely helpless and now completely dependent on the machines for all her needs.

Andressa found herself crying again. “Please, Cammy. let me go…please …you’ve proven your point. You’re in charge....”

The captive suddenly felt the straitjacket shift around her body, the waist pulling in. The material at her chest opened up, revealing cut-outs for her large breasts. She had a moment of shocked surprise as she looked down and saw her naked mammaries poking out proudly. Then the fabric clamped down and in, squeezing the base of each breast very tightly, forcing them to balloon out obscenely as if she was presenting them to be fondled. The bottom lip of the material had some support for the mounds of bouncing flesh, providing a bit of extra thrust as if she were wearing a wonder bra.

Andressa’s face went very red and she tried to cover herself up, but of course she was hanging suspended from the wires attached to the jacket’s shoulders, and in any case her arms were held out of the way. And then the robotic arms that had worked on the back of the jacket moved round and continued their work, contributing even more constriction as they tightened straps around the base of her breasts. The strap from her right sleeve to her left sleeve forced her arms to adopt an even tighter position, and her shoulders were forced back further, making her breasts stand out more prominently. The imprisoning jacket was punishingly tight, the pressure of her chest made her gasp for breath, and the panting made her breasts move in a particular way that caused her further humiliation.

“…Please, Cammy!... Oh god, I can’t feel my arms…. This is…it’s torture! It’s too tight.”

The house computer analyzed the jacket’s position and concluded everything was satisfactory and ready to proceed. The machines, of course, paid no notice to her begging and protests. Instead, they moved onto the next phase of the project. Her rear was once again sprayed with copious amounts of lubricant, leading Andressa to anticipate another plug, but it turned out to be something far worse. The new toy was first displayed in front of her face so that she could examine it. And at the sight of it she began to struggle like a maniac.

“No! No way!... Get away from me…pleeeeeease!...”

No effect, as her ankles were seized by mechanical arms and held far apart. She began to weep as a mechanical spreader forced her glorious meaty buttocks, taut as a horse’s flanks, wide apart, and a syringe injected a huge load of lubricant deep into her bowel. Then her rectum was quickly stuffed with a set of twenty-five, two-inch-diameter anal beads! The first one was the worst, stretching her anus painfully despite the lubricant, and when it popped home it was only a matter of a few seconds before the next one joined it…and again and again until, like a magic trick, all twenty-five of them disappeared into her back channel and up into her packed colon. Andressa felt each one pushed home; at the conclusion she felt unbelievably full, bloated even, and she was unbelieving that they had all fit inside her. Unbeknownst to the humiliated captive but to the computer, however, every bead was connected to the others by an insulated electrical cable. And had she known that, she would have quickly concluded that there was more to the rectal invasion than a humiliating stuffing. In any event, Andressa could actually feel her pussy getting moist and her nipples stiffening with anticipatory arousal. Her face blushed with shame as she looked up at the nearest camera and begged, “Please…get them out of there…” to no avail.

With the packing of her rectum completed, it was onto the next set of accessories. The robotic arms held up a small tiny clamp and a pair of larger, curved clamps. She idly wondered what the hell they were for a moment...then abject terror filled her eyes as the mechanical arms began to lower. Very slowly and deliberately the devices attached the small clamp to Andressa's aroused clit and the larger curved clamps to her labia. To her astonishment, she found herself both further aroused and humiliated by this treatment. Was attaching these clamps to her body just to make her squirm, or was there a darker purpose? 

Before she could continue to puzzle out what was happening, the next item in her cavalcade of punishments arrived. The voluptuous ebony prisoner was given a view of what she guessed was her new underwear. It look like a thick, pink, rubber diaper, which was briefly held up in front of her, probably intended to humiliate her further. Then it disappeared, drawn down below her field of view. She felt one of her ankles released, then the other, and seconds later the garment was worked up her legs. The mechanical clamps quickly returned to holding her ankles. Andressa could tell that the rubber garment was powdered on the inside, and yet it seemed to stick when it got to her full womanly thighs. More tugging pressure was added as it was worked up further over her broad hips and round behind, and she realized that once in place it would be humiliatingly tight. A moment later she was proven right as the rubber diaper was pulled tightly over her crotch. The mechanical hands released it, and it snapped tightly into place. 

The rubber panty cupped every part of her flesh like a second layer of skin. It was textured with raised bumps on the inside, shaped to cup the clamp that nuzzled her clitoris as well as the clamps that held her labia, and that alone caused a moan to emerge from her lips. The machine lowered a mechanical arm that held three black strips of thick rubber. Before she could work out what they were, it joined them with some fastener to the waist of the straitjacket confining her. Andressa realized that this new device was going to be three crotch straps. They were quickly deployed, two on the outsides of her crotch, just framing the diaper, and the last one running right down the middle. The straps were then pulled so tight that they cut deep furrows in the rubber diaper, and then they were fastened behind her to the waist of the jacket so that they were locked tight between her legs. There would be no way to get the diaper off, and thus no way for her to expel the series of rubber beads out of her packed ass.

The house computer monitored its guest with what could best be described as ‘results within set parameters’. There was yet another movement behind her, accompanied by the now-familiar click and whir of a mechanism. Andressa tried to twist her head around to see what was going on, but with the jacket’s collar her range of motion was heavily restricted. Although she couldn’t see it. The short cable connecting the beads stuffed deep in her rectum actually extended out from the back of the diaper, which seemed to have a specially-designed notch to accommodate the cable. It looked almost like some sort of odd tail—not that the house computer’s semantic files would classify it that way. The very end of the cable had a two-pin plug, typical of any common household appliance, ready to be pushed into an electrical socket and switched on. The new machine produced a bundle of straps and a black lump with the approximate dimensions of a hip flask. The black object proved to be a power pack, and the anal-bead cable was plugged into it. The battery was strapped to her right thigh, so as to keep the connection short and out of the way. The battery holder had one strap connecting to the waist of the jacket and two elastic straps around Andressa’s thigh to keep it firmly in place where she wouldn’t be able to interfere with it, no matter how much she struggled and writhed about.

The computer was adjusting the parameters for the newly restrained ‘Test Subject 1’, quite capable of quickly working out what she could and couldn’t do. The ebony beauty glanced down at the strange item ready to panic, then nervously up at the camera monitoring her. Her voice was very desperate. “Wh-what are you doing?... What the hell did you just shove up my ass? Please…oh god…what’s it going to do?” She was begging now to be released, begging to be let out, but her words generated no response. Andressa felt the weight of shame and guilt overcome her, and she heard herself confessing. “Okay, Cammy, you want to hear it?... I confess I cheated on you. With a guy…more than once.… I am so sorry. Please forgive me... please let me go…. I do love you. Please, Cammy…please let me go.… Please…I can’t take this...please get this thing out of my ass…. It’s driving me insane!”

And so the beautiful but bedraggled captive thought that, with this confession, her tribulations might be over. But the various mechanisms showed no sign of decreasing their activity or releasing her. In fact, the AI master program preserved the particular sequence for posterity, since the audio of Andressa’s voice contained certain highly important key words. The computer automatically sent an audio file to a certain person’s inbox, as instructed.

And her confession would be the last thing that Andressa would be able to say for what promised to be a very long time. The most careful, most sensitive of the program’s subroutines was then executed, and quickly a nest of robotic arms descended on the bound woman’s head. Her mouth was unceremoniously stuffed with a gigantic rubber pear-gag that completely filled her oral cavity to oppressive stifling proportions, Andressa had a truly beautiful face, with big lovely lips, but now her lips were stretched into a massive ‘O’, making her look simultaneously both more alluringly helpless and more like a goldfish. The device was hollow, allowing her to be force-fed. Then a black rubber harness was pulled over the top of the gag, forcing her to bite down, and to ensure her complete subjugation a series to straps were tightly secured under her chin, behind her head, and over her nose, each one pressing hard into her flesh. 

The house computer laid it all out in sequence, its AI learning component becoming smarter, better, faster, and more sure of its capabilities with each operation. It all happened before she could really process what was going on, but as the straps finished their tightening Andressa had a moment to glare at the camera in disapproval. The moment was very brief, because a tight, unforgiving, black posture collar was then wrapped around her pretty throat to keep her in line chin tilted back. Her head was now held rigidly, making Andressa very concerned about her ability to breath. Her ankles were cuffed with three-inch-wide black bands that were heavily padded on the inside, so that her feet were limited to a short stride of only about six inches. Her straightened hair was bundled up into a bun and drawn out of the way, secured by several thick rubber bands. 

Andressa’s body was now entirely confined, and she wondered what her final destination would look like. She didn’t have long to wait, as all the other robotic arms retreated into the walls, floor, and ceiling. The cables holding the jacket up released as well, dropping her to the floor. Then suddenly the floor tilted like that of a fun house, the door behind her sprang open, and she was ejected into what had previously been her room, but now was more of a padded cell—her inevitable destination, she figured—a certainty the first moment that she had driven up the driveway and into the trap. Andressa understood intuitively that this was where she would be spending a great deal of time. She lay there, dazed, in the center of the room, as the door slammed shut behind her. Of course, every surface of the enclosure was covered with big white pads. Every wall looked identical; her world was now just white pads, a striking contrast to her magnificent body—well, the parts of it not encased by the straitjacket. The cell was an eight-foot-by-eight-foot square floor, with walls perhaps a bit higher at nine or ten feet.

Andressa, tightly bound, thickly gagged, and rectally occupied, looked about furtively looking for any hint of her tormentor. She suspected that, now she was completely packaged up, Cammy would show her face. But that line of thought was interrupted as the house computer executed its program, and the power pack emitted an ominous hum, apparently triggered remotely. The beautiful but fully restrained, striking captive woman tensed up her athletic toned body. Expecting another punishing jolt of electricity, this time delivered up her bottom. She bit down on the foul-tasting rubber gag and waited for it to hit her.

Instead, the ebony beauty’s eyes crossed in surprise as an entirely different sensation assaulted her body. Each bead stuffed into her abused ass vibrated—and not just a little bit. Andressa immediately detested that sensation, since it made the twenty-five damn things feel much larger. But at the same time, her body seemed to really like it a lot. She was soon squirming around on the floor in her bondage, kicking and struggling against the jacket, not trying to escape but rather just trying to…well, what she was trying to do was unclear to her mind, which was quickly rendered unable to focus on anything other than her anal opening, rectum, and crammed bowel. She began to cry, then transitioned into a series of screams into the enormous, muffling pear-gag. Screams of frustration, pain, and humiliated arousal.

Andressa’s eyes rolled back in her head as the vibrations continued, her vision blurred, and she was unable to focus. She tried to get up, to pull her hands free, to find a more comfortable position, to ease the pressure in her sore ass. But she simply collapsed to the padding once again, unable to stand, left squirming about in the jacket on the floor like a fish in a net or a worm on a hook. The lovely vision of exotic femininity that had been Andressa was reduced to a feral horny animalistic state. She just couldn’t get away. Time seemed to lose its meaning, the torture session consuming twenty minutes...or was it an hour. She feared she would lose her mind, trapped between the promise of pleasure and the reality of frustration. The vibrations were just short of what she needed to achieve an orgasm, and so she was being mercilessly edged—both loving and hating every moment simultaneously. If Cammy had added these sorts of machines and play sessions to their relationship…well…she would have never thought about wandering or cheating, but it was far too late for that now. Andressa wept tears of frustration and sorrow into the padding, an outpouring for her own beleaguered position.

After what felt like hours the buzzing finally ceased, and the prisoner was able to find a tiny bit of peace. She had not moved more than a few inches from the spot where she had been deposited, yet she was nonetheless exhausted. Dazed, Andressa watched yet another hatch in the ceiling open up from behind the padding, and concertina-style mechanical arms unfolded as they descended toward her body. She fervently hoped that her punishment was over, and now that she had been taught a lesson she would be released.

Well, what a fanciful notion that was! The house computer had simply initiated moved towards a particularly interesting part of its most complicated programming. Those mechanical devices had not come to free Andressa but, much to her dismay, to simply change the battery pack! As soon as the fresh pack was in place, the anal beads recommenced their infernal vibrations.

But the robotic hands were not finished. 

Andressa watched as a thick rubber item, appearing to be a bag, descended. She tried to shake her head and wiggle away, but two of the mechanical arms firmly held her down by the shoulders. Other arms and mechanical hands swiftly pulled a thick rubber hood over her head. Her breathing was cut off for a moment as the rubber went over her nose. But then, after a few panicking and claustrophobic seconds, it was worked into place and she was able to breathe again. Andressa was aware that she had confessed her claustrophobia to Cammy, and so it was really mean to bundle her up like that. As her prison got progressively more strict, she was becoming more terrified. What if she were never released?

And the robotic arms didn’t release her—they apparently had more to do. They rolled her over onto her front and pushed her down into the padding. She could feel the mechanisms working on her ankle-cuffs, and suddenly the hobble strap was gone and the ankle-cuffs were now linked rigidly together. And that wasn’t all: Andressa felt her ankles being brought up and forwards, her legs bent back further and further, until she was one compact and tightly-folded buxom bundle. The hogtie was finalized when the machine ran a strap from some anchor point between her shoulder blades to the center of the cuffs between her ankles.

Afterwards, the mechanical arms retreated, and she was left to experiment with her dramatically reduced movement. Her breasts pressed into the padding, Andressa could feel the muscles in her legs and back protesting. She sensed she still had a bit of wiggle room, but she was folded over in a bow that she couldn’t escape from. Worse still, diabolically so, the hogtie intensified the sensation from the vibrations in her rectum and bowel. Once again, she realized that less she could physically move the more she was forced to focus on those sensations.

It was a different punishment now, after hours of being held at the precipice of a climax, now with the beads vibrating inside her at full force. Andressa was now, finally, being brought to orgasm repeatedly, her ass stuffed and sore. She realized with rising dread now what the tight clamps on her clit and labia were for—to numb them and ensure that her orgasms were entirely anal and did not involve her vagina at all. An extra way to control and humiliate her piled on top of all the others!

She received no break or reprieve from the ongoing crashing waves of sexual assault. She desperately wished it would end, and that she had not cheated on Cammy even once. Oh god! she wailed in silence. She wished that she could see Cammy in person, to talk to her. She was sure that she would be able to convince her young lover to have some degree of mercy. But her inner voice told her that it would be quite a long time before she saw her girlfriend in person. And in the meantime, the mechanical devices would continue to relentlessly punish her for her transgressions, though by now some part of her, something buried very deep down in Andressa’s soul, was not entirely seeing this as a punishment.

The house computer sent a signal and patiently awaited a response. After endless hours of the mechanized anal assault, the battery finally died. For a brief moment Andressa hoped that she would be given a break, but it was not to be. Inside the hood, she heard the robotic hands descending, and when they pulled the hood off her head and rigidly held her face looking at part of the wall, she had no choice but to stare at the image being projected onto the wall.

It was Cammy, with an expression of thunder and fury, and Andressa whimpered, begging uselessly into her immense gag. Cammy was dressed in a high-end white business suit, standing in an oak-paneled office with her hands intertwined in front of her. She gazed down from the projection at where Andressa lay, hogtied, as if she had just seen a cockroach crawl into the room.

Her voice carried clarity and confidence. “Andressa, you need to understand whom you crossed,” Cammy began, and Andressa knew this was the time for her lover to advise her about how long she was going to be spending in this ‘re-education room’. “I am a Smith-Wraththorn,” Cammy continued, “a legacy twenty generations deep, and I honor that legacy. Privateers, Robber barons, monopolists colonial governors people, who didn’t relent and didn’t forget any transgression against them. That means I abide by our family motto—do you remember what that is? Vindictam contra nos non possumus eos. ‘Those who wrong us cannot escape retribution.’ I guess it will take you some time to learn that. Over the coming days…weeks…months …and possibly even years, you will learn your proper place”. 

“No one cheats on me! No one breaks my heart and gets away with it! I will break you down until you are nothing more than a pet who will eagerly serve me. We’ll begin with a two-month trial period, at which point I’ll assess how much progress you have made. You will be trained in your duties, held in your proper place. You will be allowed a generous four hours sleep a day, when the vibrations will be switched off. The punishments will be rotated so you don't get bored of them—like your tight little clit clip. The machines will wash you, feed you, and keep you tightly bound at all times.  Until the trial period concludes and we have occasion to converse again, enjoy your new room.”

The screen went blank, and all hope of worming her way out of this predicament evaporated inside Andressa’s mind.

Before she could dwell on thoughts of what being allowed only four hours of sleep and rest would do to her, the mechanical arms sprang back into action. Bulky ear plugs were pushed into Andressa’s ears, cutting of all sound. A hood—most likely the earlier one—went back over her head, the fitting now extra tight, achieved with some bands or straps around her face. But her new bondage wasn’t finished. An extra layer of restraint was added, a thicker hood with rubber tubes that were fed up her nose, cutting of her sense of smell. This hood seemed to contract even more tightly around her head, with the pressure adjusted so that it was the same throughout, as if it was very smoothly being laced up. The inside stifling hood was left in place as well.

She was rolled over, and tight clamps were attached to her nipples, which made her moan into her gag and squirm in her hogtie. The hogtie itself was tightened to truly back-breaking proportions forcing her to adopt a position with her nipple-clamped, constricted breasts straining outwards like something out of a pornographic comic, until she was unable to move at all. Andressa felt the straps on the battery pack being modified as the pack was changed again. This time, judging from the weight against her body, it seemed to be twice as large! Andressa realized she not going to be getting free—nor any sleep, most likely—any time soon. At least now, though, she wasn’t freezing cold.

She suddenly experienced her next climax, and it was like she had been hit by a truck. She had never felt an orgasm like it in her life! The feeling was so intense, her body bound up like a helpless parcel, that it made the sensation mind-shakingly, unbelievably erotic. Under her double hood she mewed in pleasure and chewed on the gag. Despite how much her abused flesh ached she found herself desperately wanting more—and hated herself for that!

Eventually, although she could neither see nor hear it, all the mechanical arms withdrew into the ceiling and the hatch closed, covered up by a padded tile. Andressa’s home was now a basic, undecorated cell. She had been condemned to an involuntary stay in a high-tech, inescapable prison for the foreseeable future. Confined until these toys and restraints had molded her into Cammy’s perfect little compliant sex slave. The house program received its orders and began the educational program entrusted to it by its creator. It would not deviate one millimeter from its proscribed course. 

Suddenly a recording began to play in her ear. “Your body belongs to your mistress, it said. “You live to serve her.” The message was repeated…then repeated again. Andressa was in no position to disagree. Her new education’s mantra repeated over and over, the words lodging in her weakened, exhausted mind, and the intense soul-shattering vibrations in her rectum possessed her completely, incessantly. 

Andressa slid into the obsidian void, her body orgasming on and on….