Costume Convict
© 2023 by Bob2300 (deviantart.com/bob2300)
Edited by Dannysuling (deviantart.com/dannysuling)

Amy was a little pressed in her finances. In theory she earned enough to afford the apartment herself. But in practice real life worked out just a bit differently. The cost of servicing her debts, credit-card and otherwise, and other purchased items, meant that she was required to have a roommate. To make ends meet and the books proverbially balance, she rented a second floor box apartment with another girl, Tracy. The place was not fantastic, with a very small and compact bathroom. Their bedroom was not grand, either, and the kitchen and living room ran from one into the other. They both worked, though Amy was beginning to suspect that Tracy was earning a lot more than she did—or else Tracy was budgeting really well by comparison.

The two roommates were planning to attend a fancy dress event. One of them, Amy, had agreed to attend without really knowing much about it. Basically, Tracy had told her there would be an ‘open bar’ or free bar for those in costume and that she would get the tickets, implying—Amy thought—that she would pay for them. Tracy had been really looking forwards to this event with immense excitement. To the point where her enthusiasm was creeping Amy out a little. Tracy was well-organised; she had planned it all, gotten the tickets, arranged their costumes, booked the taxi. Amy was reluctant to ask how much the costume would cost her, or what her part of the taxi fare would be. She thought that just maybe, as she hadn’t been asked, she wasn’t expected to pay.

When Amy got home from work a little late, Tracy was already dressed up as a ‘sexy cop’. She had a pair of steely mirrored shades under a dubious-looking cop hat that seemed to be made of thick rubber. As Amy entered the room, Traci was suddenly behind her, one hand on her shoulder, pushing her into the bedroom.

“The suspect has been identified. She will report for processing—right now!”

Amy didn't think that was funny. She looked at Tracy, then did a double take, Tracy was wearing a more complex costume than one might originally think on first glance. Her roommate had chosen the costumes, judging by hers Amy was getting the tiniest hint that might have been a bad idea.

Tracy had picked one out for her housemate, since Amy had indicated she couldn’t really be bothered. Amy had been given a choice, but she had just been too lazy, preferring to let Tracy do the work for her, offering up this as an alternative. In fact, however, Tracy had counted on Amy’s lack of interest to select what she considered to be the perfect outfit, whether or not Amy might have a different opinion would soon be moot.

Before Amy knew what was happening her right arm was pulled up high behind her back her wrist gripped tightly. Tracy grinned frog marching her into the room, getting into character.

“You have violated the law, you are under arrest…you need to be processed.”

Amy looked a bit worried as she was dragged about the room. She noticed the costume box on the bed, and realized she was about to be transformed into a Sexy Prisoner, the counterpoint to the Tracy’s Sexy Cop persona. One of them, Tracy, would be dominant. The other, Amy, having little control of her immediate future would not. Amy was therefore a little hesitant realizing some of the implications, as her roommate—in full costume and mentally in character—frog-marched her through the house and into the bedroom.

Seeing the box from the costume shop earlier, Amy had figured it wouldn't be too bad. Actually, she didn't really even look in the box at the costume. She had just naïvely assumed that it would be fine. On the other hand, Amy could see that Sexy Cop had really put a lot of effort into her outfit. Three-inch, polished, blue stiletto heels with ankle straps. Blue latex tights and a short dark blue latex skirt—either a micro mini skirt or just a very large belt. Amy, already beginning to blush just looking at her roommate, thought, This is going to be an interesting night.

“Now I have to frisk you,” Tracy announced. “Feeling frisky?” She pulled Amy’s bag containing her keys and coat away. Then pushing her up against the wall, made her stand there with her legs apart as she patted her down. As she got closer, Amy could see that Tracy was wearing a really thin latex top, with a tie printed on it and ‘Police’ stenciled on the front. Through the thin and risky top one could see she the outline of the push-up bra she was erring underneath. Amy ‘s blush depend as Tracy frisked her “for contraband.” She wasn't finding this little game very funny, and she wondered what an entire night of it might feel like. In fact, the body-search was getting a bit too close for comfort, as Tracy was doing a little bit more than miming.

Tracy also had on a short, navy-blue, latex jacket that pretty much matched the skirt. But it was more like an accessory, covering little and serving no real function. The last and most worrying piece of her outfit was a really solid leather utility belt. Much to Amy’s distress, the belt appeared to be loaded with bondage gear. For a costume you might expect a toy gun and some plastic handcuffs. A regular cop would be carrying a taser rather than, say, a leather crop, which Amy was nervously eyeing, imagining what Tracy could do that would force her to hold her position. And there was one last item that made Amy just a little bit more nervous.

“The suspect will remain standing in the position,” Sexy Cop commanded, as she finished donning her outfit by putting on long, elbow-length, blue rubber gloves. They snapped into place with a sound that made her roommate wince. Amy began to look really worried, her eyes now big as saucers, especially in her legs-spread position. Bent over, arms up against the wall, she felt more than a little exposed and helpless.

The reluctant roommate took the opportunity to actually look at her friend closely, staring at her face. Tracy really did seem to be taking this role a little too seriously. She looked like she was actually about to arrest her, frisk her for real, then strip-search her anyway. Amy was quite hesitant now to join the party. She eyed her ‘arresting officer’ with concern, wondering how this was going to go.

There was a husky tone in Tracy’s voice as she asked Amy, “Are you going to resist arrest? Am I going to have to use the crop?”

At that moment, Amy decided enough was enough, and stood back up from her position. Her roommate moved to block the door so she couldn't back out, pulling out the crop from her belt. Amy was a bit reluctant to challenge her, as Tracy locked the door, pocketed the key between her cleavage, and advanced on her. Amy looked over at her bag on the other side of the room with her keys in it, how quickly could she reach them.

“Now comply, and you will get time off for good behavior...or do I need to get creative?”

There was a look on Tracy's face that conveyed all the built up frustration from all the times that she had been forced to clean up after her room mate. Amy couldn't recall everything that she had done over the course of there time together, but she had an acute idea of the reason and intent in her roommates eyes, she took a half step back. The crop suddenly made contact with Amy’s upper arm and then her thigh in quick succession. It stung in both places, Amy went to ball up her hand into a fist. Tracy was faster spinning her round pushed her into the bed and gave her ten solid blows over her bottom with the crop. Amy whimpered, raising her arms up in a gesture of surrender.

“Please, no more, no more!...” Amy yelled. Tracy aggressively pulled her up turned her around and pushed her up against the wall once gain. Amy assumed the position, felt a few lighter taps of the crop, and bent down much lower and spread her legs much wider this time round. Tracy began to run her hands up and down her roommate’s body. Soon she was practically peeling her roommate’s clothes off her body. Amy tried to resist by grabbing and holding onto her top. But Sexy Cop quickly reached for the crop on the belt at her hip. Two blows on her ass corrected the ‘suspect’s’ attitude, and Amy quickly agreed to change.

“Okay...okay...I am taking everything off…. No need to hit me again.” Amy did not wish to receive any further correction from the crop. She was soon nervously standing in just her underwear and socks.

Her roommate put her hand under her chin, running the crop up her side. “It would look much better under your new uniform if you were naked,” Tracy remarked. “Remember you already agreed to do this. I already did your half of the chores this fortnight.” Amy was a little hesitant, but she had been convinced by her roommate’s offer to pick up a few chores. It was hard to get out of their agreement now. She considered whether to submit to the crop on a more intimate level or agree to forgo her underwear for the evening. She assented to the latter, and quickly her bra came off. Although Amy was very reluctant go further, after a bit of cajoling and the threat of imminent corporal correction, she went further, putting her fingers on the waistband of her panties. She blushed, then divested herself of the last bits of her regular attire, handing it all to Tracy, and standing there naked. Her hands were now covering her breasts and crotch.

Sexy Cop looked like she was enjoying the sight. Before Amy could change her mind, Tracy was helping her roommate get into her own costume.

“Now for your prison issue uniform,” Tracy explained. “Comply and I won’t need to punish you.” Since Amy hadn’t really taken the time to see the costume before she was being pushed and cajoled into it, she was taken aback at the latex one-piece costume. It resembled a leotard short-shorts combo with long sleeves. She had to step into it and wiggle a lot to get it up over her thighs. It was really tight around her waist, and she needed Tracy’s pulling to help it slide the last bit. The outfit was orange and had ‘Prisoner’ stenciled on the chest in big black letters. Amy looked in the mirror and twisted round, admiring her ass. She guessed the label was on the back of the outfit as well, but she couldn’t quite make out the writing.

The shorts were really thin on the crotch, Amy found, although the waist was not. In fact, it was incredibly tough and thick. The material returned to being incredibly thin on the panel over her chest. But the sleeves on her arms were both very tight and very thick, and they ended in thick mittens that did not open at all! Amy found that she could barely move her fingers; there was almost no stretch or slack around them. She looked at her now-covered hands closely, realizing that there were straps at the end of the mittens that could be pulled out.

“I don’t like this,” Amy complained. “Everything is too tight…I’ve changed my mind.” She tried to pull her hands out of the sleeves and but found that they were exceedingly tight and didn’t shift at all despite whatever she attempted. Extraction would warrant some assistance, Amy concluded. She would need help to get out of the costume from this point.

Her roommate acted fast, but not to help her get out of her costume. Tracy intended to ensure that Amy stayed put. It had been a lot of effort to get her into the outfit to begin with, effort that Tracy didn’t want to waste. The end of the sleeves clipped back on themselves, and folding the ends over immobilized the entrapped hands, folding the fingers over. Before Amy realized what was going on, it had happened. There was a thick zip on the back of the latex garment, which Tracy pulled into play to the garment’s high collar. That squeezed Amy’s neck, as the latex tightened around her throat. The zipper’s end seemed to lock with a click. 

Amy just had time to notice two additional zips on her forearms; once they were pulled tight they also clicked shut. The garment suddenly became much tighter—punishingly so! A little squirming told Amy that it was really secure and constricting her body. She was worried, now, as she had absolutely no idea how to get out of it. Indeed, this seemed to be the point of the entire costume…to capture someone. Namely, her.

The latex Sexy Cop already had the next part of her prisoner’s costume ready. Before Amy knew what was going on there was a sturdy leather and steel waist-belt wrapped over he hips. It felt to Amy as if she had been tackled from behind. Four attachment points clipped onto the costume to secure the belt in place. And then it was adjusted, pulled quite tight, riding high on Amy's hips. 

“What are you doing, Tracy?” she complained, feeling very nervous. “This thing is too tight”! And then suddenly her hands were pulled behind her, like a real prisoner’s would be.

“This isn’t fun!” Amy protested. “Let me go .” But before she could think of actually resisting, it was over. Her hands were locked away. Her right hand was pulled behind her back, held on her left side and cuffed on her left hip. Her left hand was pulled back round to her right side on the opposite hip. When Sexy Cop released her grip, Amy found that her wrists were pulled tight, held in a set of really solid leather cuffs, and it was clear to her that she would not be wiggling out of them.

Amy found that this position was rather stringent, forcing her arms to cross tightly behind her back, her elbows crossing sharply. The position made her quite easy to handle, too, as it pulled her shoulders back tightly, obliging her to arch her back, making the restraints very secure and making her costume seem tighter. It forced her to thrust her chest forward.

The lecherous cop adjusted Amy’s costume, her hands running a little too low for Amy’s comfort Not that the occupant of this ‘Sexy Prisoner’ costume could do much about it now.

“Please just let me out this thing. It’s far too tight…I can’t move. It’s not funny…you have gone too far, Tracy. You’re not a cop, and I’m not your prisoner or your bondage toy. I don’t want to play any-more!” Tracy merely laughed and kissed her on her lips. Amy gave her an outraged indignant glare in response.

Sexy Cop made a few more adjustments to Amy’s Sexy Convict costume, pulling the waist belt really tight at the front. The wrist cuffs were buckled more tightly, then locked in place. To make it extra secure, a hinged metal flap locked down over the fastening plates on the cuffs, matched by a larger version on the front of the belt. All the devices clicked into place rather ominously when pressed in firmly. Sexy Convict tugged on her wrists and found the restraints holding her to be quite solid. To Amy, this no longer seemed like some harmless costume; rather, it was all too real.

As Amy was worrying about her current predicament, Tracy took up a thin leather crotch-strap hanging down from the belt. Her hand reached through Amy’s legs from behind and pulled the strap firmly from front to back, producing a camel toe appearance at Amy’s split crotch, as well as a really painful wedgie that had her up on the tip of her toes in outrage. Only now, after her arms were bound tightly, did Amy actually try resisting. She pulled against her bonds with a frantic energy, trying to make up for her earlier passivity.

“Let me out!” she declared loudly. “Release me! This is too tight! It’s not funny!” And so, finally, she understood that her outfit was not a costume piece but instead a really secure set of restraints.

“Struggle all you like,” Tracy announced. “You can’t get out. But keep it up and you’ll get punished.” 

Yes, Amy now saw that her outfit was something designed to make her completely helpless. Sexy Cop, her roommate, gave her another evil grin and pushed her into a sitting position. Tracy bent down to kiss her on the lips, her hands on the back of Amy's head.

“What are you doing?” Amy protested. “I am not into that sort of th—!” The prisoner gasped as her roommate locked lips with her and began to passionately kiss her. Sexy Convict tried to pull back, but Tracy reached down and pulled the crotch-strap even tighter, causing Amy to moan in frustration as she was being kissed. Sexy Cop’s tongue invaded her mouth and she was forced to submit. A moment later, Tracy pulled back, a satisfied look on her face as she broke the kiss. Sexy Convict looked in the mirror. Her roommate was wearing blue lipstick, and now Amy had blue smeared all over her lips.

Sexy Cop reached round her to squeeze the prisoner’s breasts. “Let’s just check to make sure everything’s in order, my little captive,” she taunted. Amy's nipples were quite prominent now against the latex. 

“Stop that! Let go of my tits, you pervert!... Please stop, it’s not funny.”

But it was a bit too late to back out, as Tracy prepared to introduce more of Amy’s costume. “For the next bit of your outfit,” Tracy warned, don’t give me any fuss.” Amy complied, not that she had much choice trussed up like this. Sexy Cop produced a pair of thigh-high orange latex stockings, and worked them up her prisoner’s legs, then spent a lot of time smoothing out the latex while thoroughly exploring Amy’s legs. The stockings were clipped onto the bottom of the short-shorts. Unsurprisingly, Amy noted that they had also got ‘Prisoner’ stenciled on the sides.

“You like new shoes, Amy, right? I got you this pair specially, just for tonight.” The shoes were orange ankle-boots with a really wicked six-inch heel. Once in place, Amy found that they seemed to be too small for her.

“Please, Tracy. They’re too tight! Can’t I wear something else?... I won’t even be able to stand in these.” But despite her complaints, she was soon on tip-toe, her feet arched so that she could barely stand in them. Tracy immediately padlocked shut the ankle straps on the shoes.

“You don’t have an option,” she told her imprisoned roommate, “so just accept it.” Tracy quickly brought over ankle-cuffs, built of leather and steel, a short, rigid, metal, five-inch link. Moments after they were applied and locked on, Amy understood that they were going to be very restrictive. Also, the enforced spread between her feet made her bottom and legs really tight, especially when she was pulled back up to a standing position.

“How am I going to walk in these?” she complained. “I can barely stand in them”

But Sexy Cop kissed her again on the lips and squeezed her body tight. “Now you’re being a bad little prisoner,” she warned, “so I need to make you behave.”

Amy groaned as the next item was introduced. She tried to get away, but she was on a very short hobble and barely got two steps before she was pulled back.

“No, Tracy!” she protested. “You’re taking this game too far! Get that thing away from me!” But she got a good look at the device that would soon be around her neck—a collar! Another piece of leather and steel to be secured to her body! And of course, it came with ‘Prisoner’ printed on it. Amy tried to pull back, but it was quickly wrapped and fastened around her graceful neck anyway. 

Sexy Cop took a step back to admire the view of Sexy Convict. “So much better!” she exclaimed happily. “But I am sure there is more I can do.” She pulled back Amy’s head, and the prisoner felt her throat constricted as the collar was pulled tight—very tight. It was strapped shut, the closed collar immobilizing her head. Sexy Cop fussed some more, and Amy felt straps buckled and a lock added, with no way for her to release it. Another kiss and cuddle, and Amy tried to pull back. But a firm hand gripping her hair tightly prevented her getting away.

Sexy Convict gasped a bit, her chest heaving, her lips stained with more blue lipstick. Once again, she bitterly complained to Sexy Cop, “I want out. I didn't agree to this. Please. It’s too tight!” But the restraints were unforgiving. No matter how much she fumed and strained, she had no say in the matter. As she tugged ineffectively at her bonds, Sexy Cop grinned a truly evil grin.

“Amy, shut the fuck up!” The prisoner was pushed down onto her bed. With rising distress, she saw her long socks pulled out of the laundry basket. Stupidly, she opened her mouth to complain. The thick, heavily sweat-stained,  pair of socks were balled up tight, then shoved in her mouth by her roommate. They did an exceedingly good job of muffling her protests.

“There you go, Amy,” said Tracy, her voice matter-of-fact but laced with a touch of malice. “Nice and quiet, just like you should be.”

Amy’s expression was one of incredible surprise. Her eyes big and round above her stuffed mouth, she was horrified at the indignity of it all. There was a disgusted look on her face as the taste hit the back of her tongue. Immediately she tried to spit them out, but only succeeded half-way. Tracy quickly stuffed them back in.

“Bad girl! The prisoner will remain gagged at all times.”

The captive looked like she was going to turn green and choke, the taste and smell of the sock-gag revolting her. But her roommate had something for that spark of defiance, holding up something in front of her prisoner’s eyes. Amy tried to work out what it was, as the two-inch ball was forced into her mouth, compressing the socks. The ball-gag was pushed in deeper and deeper, and tightly, cutting into the corners of Sexy Convict’s mouth.

“There!” exclaimed Sexy Cop with delight. “That will get you in the mood to be nice and submissive. But understand that, if that doesn’t do it, I will keep stuffing your mouth until you are .” The ball-gag was secured around Amy’s neck by a thin strap, and Sexy Cop adjusted the device, forcing it deeper, good and solid. Finally satisfied, she locked the rubber ball behind Amy’s teeth, wedging those socks into her mouth, compacting the fabric. 

Amy was no longer able to protest. Actually, she was rather regretting her most recent outburst. The combination of rubber ball and sweat-stained socks was pretty bad, and she had to focus all her efforts to keep from accidentally swallowing one of her own socks and choking to death! Amy couldn’t believe that she had just been gagged with her sweaty socks. There was a look of revulsion and incomprehension on her face around the huge gag.

“You look much better gagged,” Sexy Cop murmured, as she finished buckling the strap tightly behind her prisoner’s head and under her chin. Sexy Cop gave her as seductive grin as she held up a large lump of orange rubber. “You know, you’re very helpless and sexy when your gagged. This is going to make you even more helpless and sexy.” Dangled in front of her prisoner’s face, it turned out to be a big rubber muzzle that would be fastened over the top of all the other gagging material already wedged inside Sexy Convict Amy’s lips. A couple of drops of drool managed to escape her stuffed lips as she stared at it, terrified at the thought of her gag becoming harsher. Then Tracy made her move. The muzzle cupped the prisoner’s jaw tightly. It was heavily padded with sound-absorbing foam to really kill any hint of protest that might somehow manage to escape the already present socks-and-ball gag. 

Amy pulled on her bound arms as the muzzle was applied, but couldn’t get loose. Tracy patted her prisoner on the ass. “They give you extra time for resisting arrest, you know. That works out quite well for me.”

There were two straps at the rear of the muzzle-gag, and Sexy Cop Tracy began working on them. Suddenly, everything clinging to Amy's face became unbelievably tight. The rubber muzzle was thick and dominating, stretching tightly over her widespread mouth, crushing her resistance. It went from just under her nose to cupping her chin, covering her humiliated bulging cheeks. A Y-shaped strap from the gag went over the top of her head, each arm going around her temple and then behind her head. To test how much struggle room it allowed, Tracy pinched Amy's nose shut and held one hand around the back of her head. At the sudden asphyxiation, Amy panicked, thrashing about wildly, struggling against the cruel breath play.

“You’re almost helpless enough for my tastes,” Sexy Cop admonished, “But not enough just yet. You still have a little too much wiggle room. You’re going to be amazed at how submissive you can become with regular protracted breath play.”

Tracy allowed her prisoner to suck in air through her nostrils. Amy, completely terrified, felt Sexy Cop making sure that all her gag-restraints were as tight as possible Then, on top of that, Amy felt Tracy lock everything into place! Locked in the muzzle, unable to vocalize a single protest over the socks-and-ball gag, Amy could no longer voice any protesting sound as her captor’s hands took liberties with every bit of her body.

“There!” Tracy exclaimed happily. “That is definitely an improvement!” Her hand wandered lower, and Amy discovered she still had a little resistance left in her. She directed a spiteful glare at her captor....

...And she received a blindfold in return.

“No, sweetie, I don’t believe you deserve to see what is going to happen,” Sexy Cop admonished. Of course, the blindfold, too, was also locked in place. It had big orange pads that covered Amy’s eyes and prevented even a hint of light. In fact, the blindfold was part of a set with the orange muzzle and collar. Its straps fed through the other harness of straps already in place. The three items linked together into one harness set—muzzle, collar, and blindfold. Amy was forced to assess what her final act of defiance had cost her. She could no longer see or speak, rendering her pretty harmless when her other bonds were added to the mix. Under the blindfold, she was now terrified!

“Let’s practice a little more breath play,” Amy heard Tracy whisper. She felt her captor’s hand pinch her nose again, and once more she was being suffocated. She desperately squirmed and wiggled, trying to get away from her clearly sadistic captor. Of course, it was hopeless, bound as she was. She had no option but to endure it. After what felt like long, unendurable minutes— but might have been just seconds—she was allowed to breathe again. Taking deep breaths through her nostrils, she was fully disoriented.

“Now for the last little bit of your uniform,” she herd Sexy Cop Tracy whisper in her ear. There were two tugs on her outfit, and suddenly her breasts were freed from their confines, fully exposed as a section of the top half of the garment was suddenly pulled down. Amy was beside herself with fear and anticipation. She could feel the cold air on her exposed nipples.

And suddenly she was screaming into her gag as first her right nipple was licked and harshly pinched, then her left. She was suddenly clipped onto a leash that ended in a pair of aggressive alligator-toothed nipple clamps. They were cone-shaped, so that they could grip as much of her nipple as possible. That cruel combination ensured that she was abruptly very compliant, as she was dragged along with no warning.

“Come on, girl…it’s time to go to the party. It’s the LezDom Gala.”

Amy was horrified! She was not a lesbian, but tied up like this her opinion didn’t really matter at all. She tried to center herself, to dig in her heels and resist the pain to get away. But she dramatically underestimated how much force would be needed to pull her nipples out from the jaws of the clamps.

“Yes,” said Tracy. “I expected that you might still have a little bit of stubbornness in you. So, from now on you get a spanking. When you resist‚ you get spanked! When you don’t respond as quickly as I wish—you get spanked. When I like the way you jiggle or I am feeling bored, you get a spanking.” 

The leash was pulled tight to minimize her resistance, as pathetic as it was. Of course, she immediately got the slim leather paddle applied to her bottom. And it was applied really rather vigorously, making her struggle. Sexy Cop kissed her over the gag, after which the rubber-clad ‘corrections officer’ reapplied her blue lipstick. In any event, Amy was dragged along to the fetish party, pulled into the back of a taxi, where she wad forced to ‘work on her breath play’. Her restraints were solid and real, and there was no way out of her predicament.

They made a little entrance at the party, Sexy Cop leading her reluctant roommate, Sexy Prisoner.

“This is my new slave,” Tracy announced, “and she has been very bad. She needs to be tied up very tight, so that she learns to be a good little prisoner.”

As the party progressed, Tracy used the paddle a lot, even though each time Amy vigorously objected into the harsh gag. Her pitiable resistance only spurned her captor to paddle her harder. She was pulled around the dance floor throughout the evening, while her captor indulged in more corporal discipline and breath play at her expense. At some point their activity ceased, and she thought that she might have a break when her leash was tied off to some hook. But it was pulled up so tight she had to go up on tip toes to try and reduce the pressure on her clamped nipples and sore breasts. The position soon began to cause shooting cramps in her calves and tendons.

Amy’s concern increased as a hand grabbed her ass and then another clamped over her nose, while a pair of unfamiliar hands started to fondle her tits. She was trapped in the middle of a press of bodies who all seemed to be fixated on tormenting her helpless body. After some time being petted, suffocated, tickled, caressed, and spanked by many sadistic women, she was released from the hook. She sagged to the ground, able to put some weight on her heels. But she wasn’t given a chance to get her bearing. Instead, she was hoisted up by the leash and led off of the dance floor, spirited away by an unseen hand who she assumed to be Tracy. 

At this point, she was glad to get away from so many predatory lesbians pinching her and fondling her. But soon Amy began to think that she had been taken out of the proverbial frying pan only to be shoved into the metaphorical fire. She reasoned that the next thing might be a little bit worse. She wasn’t even sure any longer if it was her roommate at the other end of the leash.

Presumably it was Sexy Cop Tracy who took her prisoner off to a private room. Amy really began some serious struggling as she was bent over a bench, but the leash and nipple clamps helped to control her resistance. She felt her collar clipped to something, forcing her to remain in that vulnerable pose. Her ankle cuffs were undone, her legs spread wide, and her ankles swiftly cuffed apart. To reinforce the pose, straps were added over her thighs so she couldn’t move her legs at all. 

And then the paddle made its return, smacking her thighs again and again. She pulled against the restraints, begged and the screamed into her gag, then finally collapsed, her body draped on the bench.

“Oh, come on,” Tracy’s voice mocked her. “You can take a few more than that, surely!” But Amy barely had any resistance left in her as she felt her crotch strap being undone. Then a zipper she didn’t know was there opened up, exposing both her ass and pussy. Amy was suddenly very frightened about what was going to be done to her defenseless, vulnerable body.

She felt a rubber hand cupping her body, caressing her buttocks and probing between her pussy lips.

“Just a little bit longer,” she heard, “and then we can have some real fun ” The fingers used a tiny bit of lube, and then a thin tapered nozzle was abruptly jammed into her ass. Amy didn't like that at all, and once again her struggling merely confirmed just how tight her bonds were and how little her protests meant. She really had no options, no control, other than to remain where she was and endure it. There was the sound of a valve turning, and then a soapy enema invaded her insides, filling her ass, flooding her bowels. 

Her squirming and wiggling intensified as she was made to hold it, to retain it, until the purge had grown from a discomfort to a bloated all-consuming pain. But just as the spasms and cramps set in, she could feel the water release, and hear it flowing down a drain. Amy sighed in relief—only to feel the flow of water start again. This procedure was repeated a few times to wash her out. Then finally warm water, rather than soapy water, was used to flush out the stinging soap on the last application. She couldn’t imagine what her captor might consider to be real fun? However, everything pointed to something that she clearly wouldn’t enjoy.

Before she could really recover, her roommate’s tongue was abruptly wedged in her asshole, licking away. Amy struggled like anything, but of course couldn’t get away. It was a really weird sensation that nonetheless began to turn her on. Amy felt Tracy’s find her labia and disappear into her vagina, then begin to slowly work away inside her. She was teased, tormented, then made to come under her captor’s ministrations. After five orgasms she was exhausted from climaxing, but her captor was not quite finished yet. A bristly toy was used to tease her pussy, then worked deeply into her sex. Next, an intimidating-sized grooved plug was worked up her ass. It was slowly twisted in deeper and deeper until her sphincter closed around the narrow base, holding it in place. The bottom of the outfit was zipped up, and the crotch strap was put back in place, sealing the toys inside her.

Amy felt her legs released, then re-cuffed with the short hobble. Her body was released from the bench, and she was back standing at the end of the leash. She was led back through the club, receiving only a few pats on the ass this time. Amy was glad to be led away. She made no protest through her gag as once again she was stuffed into the back seat of a taxi, and so to home. All the way she could feel the toys jostling about inside her, pressing against her flesh, with each bump making them rub inside her, torturing her already exhausted body. It was a long, truly humiliating trip, that wore her down, exhausting her even further.

Finally, home, and hearing the door shut behind her, and Amy thought that now, at least, the madness might end, that she might actually be released, and the leash to her nipples undone...that it was a one night thing and her status as a prisoner might be over.

Of course, she was once again proved wrong, as Tracy suddenly pushed her roommate to the floor. Abruptly Tracy knelt on her back, and soon she was hog-tied instead of being released. A strap went from the back of the waist-belt to her ankles, folding her legs over. The strap continued to the back of her collar, pulling her body into a tight and very strict arch, lifting her shoulders and knees off the floor, wrenching her head back—a very punitive position. Amy had very little wiggle room. It was immensely uncomfortable to be bound like this.

Once again, she allowed herself to believe that this might be the end of it. And once again, Amy was wrong. The sadist holding her captive added some weights to the nipple clamps, as well as thin rubber straps around the base of her breasts.

Tracy arose and walked around her helpless prey. “You look good, very good, I admit, but I am sure that there is room for improvement.” Her captor pulled the hog-tie strap a little tighter, causing Amy’s back to arch further and to increase the strain on her limbs. This caused her to ‘test her gag’ more thoroughly. And that served only to prove that the gag was just as effective as it had been throughout the evening. Amy had no hope of escaping this predicament by herself.

She felt a chain attached to the front of her collar, then locked to the frame at the foot of her roommate’s bed. Frightened and helpless, the taut chain felt so very real tugging on her neck. She heard Tracy clicking something, and immediately both toys inside Amy came to life, on a really low vibration.

Tracy watched her roommate’s reaction, then changed into her nightwear, rolled over, and went to sleep. Meanwhile, her roommate wiggled about on the floor, unable to escape her costume and its devilish impact inside her body’s openings. Soon Amy found out that the vibration was remained at a level designed to frustrate her. She was unable to climax from the stimulation. It didn’t look like she would be getting much sleep.

The end...of their friendship…and the start of something else!