Author: Hoop

Title: Incarceration Ch.15

Part: Chapter 15

Summary: Three of the girls are administered psychotropic drugs. Claire and Zoe endure some strict bondage.

Keywords: FF, bd, drugs



Helen returned, after a disagreeably long and very uncomfortable wait. Zoe squinted as her blindfold was pulled away, and got the first look at the horrible aftermath of their session. In a way, she wished she were still unable to see. Helen cut away the tape binding the girls together, and unclipped the ring holding them face-to-face by their gags. They shuffled apart, and Zoe grimaced as she felt the material of her clothes clinging to her thighs. Emma's lips were drawn back from around her ball gag as she scowled.

Helen instructed them to strip, and the attendant stood by with a yellow plastic sack to collect their soiled garments. Emma's bandages were now in need of replacement, and she unwound them carefully, wincing at the pain from the cane-strokes which still showed as red lines on her skin. 

After that, they spent a humiliating ten minutes being thoroughly hosed down. Helen had the girls clean each other with sponges and foaming disinfectant that smelled of hospitals. Once she deemed them to be sufficiently cleansed, she threw each of them a white towel, freshly-laundered and ever so slightly scratchy against their skin. They dried themselves off, and only after that did Helen permit them to remove their gags. Zoe stood with her eyes downcast, fists clenched into tight balls. Emma seemed moderately less fazed now. She was hugging her arms across her bare chest, and looking around the room.

"Take the albino back," Helen ordered the attendant. Emma shot her a dirty look, as if being referred to by her condition was somehow worse than using the numbers. "And bring all of them to the next session in half an hour or so. You've got the equipment list."

The attendant nodded, and escorted Emma from the room.

"I've got something else in mind for you, though, 271" said Helen.

"What!? Why me?" Zoe threw her hands out in an incredulous gesture.

Helen approached her, coming to stand uncomfortably close and putting a hand on Zoe's shoulder. "The very fact that you're asking explains why," she said. "I think you're still lagging behind the others a bit. Not quite as compliant... not yet. You should try and be more like 314."

Zoe made a half-hearted attempt at defiance.

"I won't," she said. 

Helen grinned, and Zoe was reminded of a shark as she saw the girl's bared teeth.

"Wanna bet?" she said.

As much as Zoe begrudged being manhandled about the facility, she was glad to leave the memories of the morning's session behind in the tiled room. She was led off elsewhere, to a room where a pair of attendants laid her on her front upon a padded bench. They shackled her wrists to the bench's legs, and gave her a pillow to support her head, turned to one side. With her arms dangling down, she was not so much lying on the bench as draped over it. They passed a wide fabric strap across the small of her back and beneath the bench, and secured it in place with a chunky plastic clip. She wriggled her butt, and kicked out weakly with one leg. They were the only parts of her body she could still move.

The attendants soon remedied that. They held her ankles together beneath the bench, and bound them with soft nylon rope. Her hips were twisted uncomfortably now. Her thighs were digging into the sides of the bench, and she shifted her knees forward to try and alleviate some of the strain. She realised that doing so made her spread her buttocks, and whimpered at the prospect of new torments being visited upon her beleaguered ass. It looked like that was going to be the case, as she felt Helen's palm resting against her buttock and then giving it a hard squeeze.

"It'd be a shame not to take advantage of your insides being so lovely and clean now," said Helen. She paced around to the side Zoe was facing, and knelt down in front of her. She removed a pair of white latex gloves from the carton she was holding, and took a long time wriggling her hands into each, pulling them tight and snapping them against her wrists. She produced a tube of lubricant, and squeezed out a blob of the clear jelly onto her fingertips, rubbing them together until they were slick and shining. "Much more enjoyable playing with a nice, clean butt hole," she said.

Zoe strained her neck to look over her shoulder as Helen walked down the bench. She pulled one buttock aside, and then Zoe felt the slippery intrusion of Helen's finger sliding into her anus. It was joined by another, forcing her hole even wider. Helen wriggled her fingertips slowly, and Zoe groaned.

"My," said Helen. "Nice and tight, aren't we? I wonder if I can get another finger in?"

She tried to do so. Zoe's ass hole strained to its limit; it felt like a horrid, stinging ache as Helen eased the very tip of a third finger inside. Zoe was sure something was going to tear, and the thought of such harm had her shrieking in desperate protest. 

"No! It- it's not going to fit, Helen! Stop!"

"Really?"

Zoe craned her neck to try and look behind her. Her eyes were watering. The pain from her abused ass hole was terrible and persistent. 

"It hurts!" 

"Tough," said Helen.

Zoe produced her loudest cry yet as the third finger brutally forced its way in. The chains manacling her wrists rattled as she thrashed her arms, and the wet patch on her pillow continued to spread from her tears. Helen let her fingers rest inside her awhile, and then withdrew them slowly. There was a rustling sound as she peeled her glove away and disposed of it in a waste bin, before donning a fresh pair. There came a sharp slapping sound, and a wave of pain a split-second later as Zoe felt the stinging mark of Helen's hand upon her buttock. 

She spanked Zoe several more times while she sobbed and whimpered. Her ass was sore and prickling from the repeated impacts, and something about the succession of slaps raining down on her bare posterior was making her feel especially vulnerable. She buried her face in the pillow, which muffled her sobs as Helen amused herself for a few minutes more. She nodded in approval when she had finished. 

"Your butt turns the loveliest shade of pink when it's being spanked," she said.

Zoe made a nondescript whine as she languished with her face in a damp patch of snot and tears.

"It's over now, though," said Helen. She hopped up to perch on the side of the bench, and Zoe felt the girl's hand on the top of her head, stroking her hair. "Just one thing left to take care of."

Zoe was freed from her bonds, and an attendant hoisted her upright and held her against him while Helen arranged some things on the bench. He turned Zoe around to see what had been prepared for her: a broad, blunt conical shape of black rubber with a flared base was sitting on the bench. At its widest, it must have been a couple of inches across. Its surface, like Helen's glove, was wet with lubricant.

"Oh no," she said, "No. Please. I can't-"

"Hush, 271."

"Anything else," said Zoe. "Just not my ass again. Please."

"Complaining, 271? You should know better by now."

Helen picked up a restraint from where she had laid it on the bench. Zoe recognised the familiar, hated shape of a ball gag, slightly larger than the last, although this one had a wide strip of leather against one side. Helen held it up to Zoe's face, pressing the ball against her lips and wriggling it from side to side until she was forced to open her mouth. The leather strip held the ball in firmly, sealing her lips around it and covering her mouth from just below her nose all the way down to her chin. A pair of straps held it tightly against her face. It was highly effective at reducing Zoe's complaints to quiet 'mmph' sounds, and soon she gave up altogether.

"Better," said Helen. She ran her fingertips across the leather. "And so pretty, too," she said. She gestured to the rubber cone waiting ominously upon the bench.

"Sit on it," she said.

The attendant wrestled Zoe over to stand in front of it, his big hands gripping almost entirely around her upper arms. She whimpered and moaned, feeling her anus tensing. The attendant encouraged her down by pushing on her shoulders, and she felt the tip nuzzling against her sore ass hole. He let go. She remained poised over it.

"Come on," said Helen. "Do it."

Zoe was sure there was an obscene, wet sound as she very slowly lowered herself on to the bench. Her ass hole was pried open as the butt plug slid smoothly into her, spreading and distending the muscle in its path. As she passed the widest point her anus swallowed it almost entirely, and Zoe felt the base of it come to press against her buttocks. It felt like part of her insides had been replaced with a large, heavy lump.

"That's good," said Helen. "I hope it's not too uncomfortable. It's going to be in there for a while. Actually... on second thoughts, I don't care how uncomfortable it is."

"Mmmn," said Zoe. Her range of expression was rather reduced with half her face covered, but she was pleading with Helen with her eyes. She doubted it would make any difference.

"Stand up," said Helen. "And you had better not even thing of letting go of it, or you'll be cleaning it with your tongue."

Zoe stood slowly, feeling the lump shift even further up inside her, a heavy mass ensconced between her buttocks. There was the rustle of fabric and the clink of metal fasteners as Helen unfolded a white strait jacket and held it open in front of Zoe. She waggled the crotch-strap around with one hand.

"You'll be able to relax once you've got this on," she said. "It'll hold it in just fine. Arms out."

They slid the long, tapered sleeves over Zoe's arms, and Helen held her hands out in front while the attendant fastened the straps across her back. It was actually less restrictive than the last such garment Zoe had worn - whatever heavy-duty cloth this was made from was a luxurious comfort in comparison to the tight, restricting latex of the last strait jacket. The attendant looped the crotch strap between her legs, and Zoe groaned through her gag as the strap pressed against the plug in her anus, somehow pushing it even further inside her. 

Helen secured the sleeves last, crossing Zoe's arms behind her back. It wasn't too uncomfortable yet, but she wouldn't want to spend a prolonged time in such an awkward pose. The sleeves came together at the front of the jacket, where they were joined together by a pair of leather straps and several snapping metal fasteners. Zoe shifted her arms, making the sleeves slide across her front. There was very little give in the whole arrangement. She sighed through her nose, wiggling her butt and trying to find a more comfortable way to accommodate the blunt shape wedged into her anus.

"I think we're done for now," said Helen. "I'm afraid you'll have to just spectate the next session, rather than participating."

She made a face of mock-sadness at Zoe, sticking out her lower lip. "Aww, you must be so disappointed," she said. "Think of yourself as the control group. Actually, the whole rest of this experiment is based on one of the compounds you made for me. But for now, you can just sit here, out of the way."

She pulled on Zoe's crotch-strap, leading her over to one corner of the room where she fastened a leather collar around her neck. She used it to tether Zoe to the wall with a length of chain, locking it through a metal ring.

"Be a good girl and sit there quietly," said Helen. "The others should be along soon."

---

Apparently today's timetable was quite full. No sooner had Emma been returned, nude and sullen, than all three of the girls found themselves being led from their cell to yet another session. They were brought to a room with a padded bench set out of the way against one wall. Zoe was sitting in the corner with her legs crossed, thoroughly bound up in a white strait jacket, her mouth gagged with a wide strip of black leather. She was squirming her thighs in discomfort. She looked up at Claire as the girls entered, and then hurriedly directed her gaze away. Her cheeks reddened. Perhaps she still felt some humiliation at the other girls seeing her so helpless, despite all that they'd been through so far.

Helen was seated on a swivel chair that looked out of place among the rest of the room's metal furnishings. Alongside her there were a worrying array of implements and restraints, including a length of tube with a funnel at one end. She was swirling liquid around in a conical flask, holding it up to the light every so often to examine the contents. It looked like water. Claire was willing to bet that there was something dissolved in it that would have unpleasant consequences for them.

The other half of the room had been covered in bedding material. Duvets and sheets were spread around the place, pale blue and spotless. The attendants directed the girls over to that area, and had them kneel in a line. Claire ended up in the middle.

Helen came over with the first of the restraining equipment, a bundle of fabric straps draped over her arm. Emma asked if she could have some clothes again now, and an attendant answered for Helen with a long discharge of his electric prod into her ribs, that had her begging for mercy long before he eventually stopped. She was quiet after that, and compliant as the attendants bound up her wrists in a pair of fleece-lined leather cuffs, held together behind her back with a pair of interlocking rings. Laura and Claire had their arms likewise restrained, and then all three of the girls had nylon straps looped around their thighs and shins, holding their legs tucked beneath them. Helen rested her foot against Laura's shoulder and pushed her backwards, giggling to herself as the helpless girl toppled over, coming to land on her side, her bound legs squirming.

Helen fetched her glass flask once more, and decanted its contents into three smaller beakers. "Today should be an interesting experience for you," she said. "Especially as none of you seem to have indulged in, ah, chemical recreation before now, according to our profiles. Well, except you, Laura. Naughty girl."

"Profiles?" 

"Details, 523, details. I wouldn't worry about it. Anyway, you can go first."

She pulled Laura back upright and then sat down in front of her, holding a beaker to Laura's lips.

"Drink," she said.

"...what is it?"

"You'll find out," said Helen, grinning slyly. "Come on."

Laura hesitated.

"Take your medicine like a good girl," said Helen.

Laura opened her mouth cautiously, and Helen tipped the beaker up. There was a spluttering sound, and Laura spat on to the floor. Helen withdrew the beaker, careful not to spill any more of its contents. She went over to the equipment by her chair, and fetched the funnel with its length of tube.

"I hoped I wouldn't have to use this," she said. She held the funnel in front of Laura's face. "Now are you going to drink it, or am I going to pour it into your stomach through a tube in your throat? What's it going to be?"

Laura scowled as she downed the contents of the beaker. She rasped her tongue against the roof of her mouth when she was done, as if trying to rub the taste away. The forewarning made it slightly less bad for Claire, but the taste was still very unpleasant: bitterly medicinal with sharp, chemical overtones. It made her mouth feel weird. Emma's experience was just as bad, judging from the expressions that she made.

"Good girls," said Helen. "I'm glad you're starting to see what's best for you."

She went over to Zoe, and sat down alongside her. Zoe tried to shuffle away, but Helen pulled her back with an arm around her shoulder.

"Go ahead and lie down," said Helen. "Try to relax. It'll probably take some time to kick in. I'll just have to find some way to amuse myself during the wait," she said. She slid a pair of fingers under the strap of Zoe's strait jacket, bringing them to rest against her genitals.

Minutes went by, and Claire eventually rolled over to lie on her side, giving her aching knees some rest. Whatever they had imbibed didn't seem to be having much of an effect. She wondered whether anything would happen at all. With nothing else going on, she had plenty of time to consider the strange feeling in her stomach, and the annoying flicker of the room's lights.

She rolled over restlessly. She could see Emma kneeling upright now, leaning her head against the wall. Her breathing seemed laboured, she was puffing her cheeks out every time she exhaled. She spat on the floor, and let out a groan.

"Oh no no," said Helen, withdrawing her hand from between Zoe's legs and standing up. "No. Breathe, 641. Take it easy." She grabbed a plastic bucket, and brought it over with her. She knelt down beside Emma, putting a hand on her back.

"Deep breaths," she said.

Emma's head bobbed as she nodded. Claire could see her back rise and fall as she inhaled deliberately, held it, and then breathed out cautiously. Then she burped. Helen snatched the bucket and placed it in front of Emma, between her legs. She pulled Emma's hair back, holding it away from her face, and then turned away as splashing sounds came from the bucket.

Emma retched and heaved for about a minute, finally ceasing and taking sobbing breaths as she let watery saliva fall from her open mouth. In a bizarre reversal of her usual manner, Helen remained kneeling alongside her, rubbing her back and reassuring her. It didn't make sense to Claire. How could she be so harsh to them one moment, and then suddenly switch to this?

She left Emma to kneel against the wall, staring down into the bucket. She beckoned to one of the attendants, and instructed him to fetch a specific flask from the lab, which apparently contained something with a complicated name that meant nothing to Claire. After he left, Helen returned to comforting Emma, speaking to her softly.

"It's OK," she said, "it's all right. Got it all out?"

Emma nodded, and sniffled. She turned her head away from the bucket, and Helen held it out at arm's length for an attendant to come and take it away.

"Good," she said. "Don't worry. There are other ways of administering the compound, anyway."

Emma let out a weak groan. Claire hoped for her sake that these 'other ways' didn't involve injections. She rolled back over. The bedding material was warm and soft beneath her, in fact, it felt wonderful against her skin. She wondered if there was a specific reason why the sheets had such elaborate patterns on them.

With her legs bound, Claire's ability to move around was quite restricted. The straps around her thighs and shins held both her knees bent, with her heels touching her buttocks. Her quadriceps were beating out a steady rhythm of tingling pain under the stress. Her legs were not, however, bound to each other, so she was able to squirm around a little bit. She did so, rolling over on to her front, and lying with her cheek against the duvet beneath her. 

She angled her eyes down, squinting at the elaborate pattern that seemed to be drifting across the surface of the sheets. Whenever she tried to focus, the shapes twisted into other forms - endlessly repeating, self-similar designs of squares and circles with jagged edges. Whilst Claire had never used drugs before, it was obvious that whatever Helen had made them ingest had psychedelic properties. She wriggled around, lying face-down. It was as if her sense of touch was amplified a thousandfold, and the sheet was the softest, most luxuriant material known to man. She closed her eyes, and was met with a violet after-image of the patterns, much more intense this time and surging constantly across her vision.

The door of the room opened with a sound that lingered much longer than was physically possible, and the attendant returned with a wide-necked glass bottle and a syringe, thick-barrelled and with a blunt nozzle. He set both of them down on the floor, and knelt alongside Helen, who still had one arm around Emma. Together they manhandled her into a very awkward-looking position: she was rolled on to her back, with the attendant pinning her down by the shoulders. Her will to fight seemed to have left her along with the contents of her stomach; she didn't put up much resistance as Helen lifted her butt, forcing her into a curled-up shape that held her ass high in the air with her legs drooping away to either side, the small of her back resting against Helen's chest.

Helen held her that way while she filled the syringe. Claire had to keep changing her focus while she watched - if she looked at any one thing for too long, it tended to fill her entire perception. Concentrating on a spot of wall erased everything else, leaving only disembodied voices. She struggled against her shifting perceptions, wondering why on earth people took these sorts of substances for fun.

Claire felt sorry for what the Emma was about to experience - the syringe in Helen's hand looked like it contained at least a hundred millilitres of liquid. She assumed Emma was about to be the recipient of a painful injection to the buttock, but as she stared at the syringe tip, she realised that there was no needle attached.

"This should be easier for you to take," said Helen. "Especially in light of this morning. This is nothing in comparison. You know, there's a surprisingly high blood supply to the human rectum," she said, easing the tip of the syringe into Emma's ass hole. "That makes this just as affective as administering it orally." Emma whined helplessly, waving her bound-up legs around weakly. Helen held one of them against her shoulder with her free arm as she began the slow process of dispensing the fluid. The attendant clamped his hand firmly over Emma's mouth, muting her protests.

It continued for over a minute. Helen was slow and methodical; the syringe plunger crept downwards excruciatingly slowly. Claire found herself transfixed by Emma's hand, watching as her nails dug into the floor. She could see her tendons standing out beneath her skin.

Helen finished off by pulling the syringe free, swiftly replacing it with a round-ended, rubber cone that she forced into Emma's anus. "Just in case you couldn't hold it yourself," said Helen. She held the butt plug in place with a long strip of tape that ran from just under Emma's navel, looping between her legs and up her back. Helen smoothed it down against her skin and gave the plug a prod, which made Emma grunt in discomfort.

"All right, you can let her go," she said. The attendant did so, and Emma was allowed to sag limply to the floor. Claire could see damp streaks of tears running from the corners of her eyes.

"Hopefully you won't be lagging too far behind," said Helen. "I think the others are already starting to feel the effects."

She came over to run her fingers through Claire's hair. "Are you?" she asked.

Forming words was difficult. Claire mumbled something in response, but she was more concerned with how Helen's hands felt on her skin. The girl's touch seemed to radiate warmth, and Claire's mouth spread into a drowsy grin as she felt Helen's fingertips tracing down her cheek.

"Ah yes," she said, "you're enjoying that, aren't you?"

"...m'not," she managed. Her capacity to lie was feeling very attenuated. At the back of Claire's mind was the suggestion that something was wrong about this, that the pleasure she was feeling was somehow tainted, but the nagging doubt dissolved away as she shut her eyes and felt Helen's fingers brushing against her lips.

Helen stood up, now ignoring Claire completely. The absence of her touch left her feeling ever so slightly cold, and yearning for the warmth of the girl's hands. She could hear each step that Helen took with perfect clarity, and the sound had a crisp, unnatural quality to it, as if heard through loudspeakers. She writhed against the floor, trying to regain the sensation she had felt at Helen's touch, but nothing could replicate it.

Claire looked over at Laura's back. She was facing away, curled up on her side and giggling to herself. Helen turned her over so that the pair were closer together, and Claire got a close look at the vacant, idiotic expression on Laura's face. She wondered if that was what she looked like right now, mouth hanging open lazily, eyes half-hooded as she giggled at some unseen hilarity. The laughter faded into quiet groans as Helen gave the other girl the same treatment as Claire, stroking her hands gently over choice locations. She even leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, and Claire wondered what Laura had done to earn her so much of Helen's favour. She stepped away, leaving Laura to make a few uneasy sounds.

"One of the symptoms can be a heightened sense of touch," said Helen. Claire tried to focus on her face while she was talking, but the features seemed to keep subtly shifting and changing. She decided it was better to watch the cobweb-shapes creeping over the ceiling, and allow Helen's voice to wash over her. It sounded strangely soothing.

"Well, it is in some cases," she continued. "At any rate, it seems to have worked for both of you." She fussed around behind Claire's back, and the strain left her arms as her wrists were unbound. She immediately found her hands wandering over her chest, again trying to experience the same sorts of caresses Helen had lavished her with. It wasn't the same. It was like trying to tickle oneself.

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at the feel of each other's bodies," Helen said. She freed Laura's hands as well, and then stood back with her arms folded. "Go ahead," she said. "See what it's like." She encouraged Claire towards Laura with a nudge of her foot, and Claire compliantly squirmed the few feet across the floor to bring herself nearer to the other girl. She reached out, and touched her arm. Laura's skin was warm and smooth beneath her palm. She was only half-aware of the patterns that were gliding across her skin like a pink mosaic. Touching her was all that mattered. She wriggled closer, and Laura laid an arm over her, once again giggling moronically.

Claire couldn't understand quite why it felt so pleasant. She approached until their chests were touching, she felt like she needed to have as much of the girl's skin in contact with her own as possible. Laura seemed to be experiencing the same urges. Their arms were around each other now, they were hugging as if each were trying to absorb the other into their own body. Claire moaned incoherently as she buried her face against Laura's neck.

The dull ache in her legs dissipated, and she realised that Helen had removed the other set of bonds. She wrapped her thighs around Laura's hips as she hugged her ferociously, and the pair became a clumsy tangle of limbs. The girl's body against her own, and the kaleidoscopic colours when she shut her eyes, all felt perfect. Little wet patches tingled on her skin where Laura was kissing her, and she shuddered from the sensation. She wondered what it would be like to kiss her properly, and distant parts of her brain put up a feeble resistance to the thought. The nagging feeling returned again, the idea that she couldn't possibly be enjoying this, and the next moment her lips were against Laura's and the sensation was like nothing she had experienced before. She could hear laughter from somewhere. It wasn't important right now.

"Wow," said Helen. "I... I didn't expect this much of an effect. I might have to revise the dosage guidelines."

Claire opened her eyes long enough to see that Helen was alongside Zoe again. The girl was having little success in trying to squirm away from her.

"These chemicals are quite something, Zoe," she said. "And to think, you thought they were just being tested on rats all this time. Isn't this so much more fun?"

The kissing was leading to other things. Some instinct in Claire told her she shouldn't want to be doing this with another girl. It was overridden entirely by the feeling of Laura's hand sliding further down her belly, eventually reaching between her thighs and encountering a good deal of sticky wetness. At the touch of Laura's fingers, the colours of Claire's world brightened in bizarre synaesthesia. Everything was warm and vivid, and by the looks of things Laura was enjoying herself just as much as Claire reciprocated, exploring the anatomy of an unfamiliar set of genitals. With each responding to the touch of the opposing girl, it felt as if they would meld together entirely.

"See, it doesn't all have to be pain," said Helen. "I'm sure there could be a lot more sessions like this. It certainly seems to have brought you together."

The word made Claire remember that Emma was presumably sharing their experience. She felt bad that the other girl was left out, and disentangled herself from Laura to crawl to the other side of the room. Laura sounded disappointed, holding her arm out with her fingers extended. 

Through the colourful haze in her mind, a particularly urgent thought presented itself to Claire. She wasn't tied up. Her legs were free. Didn't that mean she could try to run? It felt like there was some reason that she couldn't. Maybe it was just an assumption, after spending all this time imprisoned. She stood up far too quickly, the blood rushed from her head and explosions of geometry bloomed across the walls. She took a staggering step forward towards the door, and found that somehow Helen had gotten between it and her.

"What do you think you're doing, 314? I'm sure it doesn't feel good to be standing up. Why don't you lie back down?"

"...get out."

"What." There was no hint of an inflection in Helen's voice. It sounded nothing like a question.

"I've got to get out! You can't keep me here!" 

Helen looked unimpressed. "Can't I?" she said.

"I want to go! You can't do this, it isn't right! Helen!"

The sudden lucidity brought with it a cold feeling in the pit of Claire's stomach. It was wrong, it was all wrong and horrible, she didn't want to be here. She had never wanted to be here. The colours started to drain out of the walls; everything looked cold and grey. Helen's expression was unbearably stern, awakening long-dormant feelings in Claire, who was feeling like a schoolgirl receiving a scalding. She reached for the door and Helen swatted her arm away. A sob escaped her throat.

"Now look what you did," said Helen. "You messed it up for yourself, didn't you? It felt good before, right?"

She took a step forward, and prodded Claire in the shoulder. "But you couldn't just enjoy it. You had to go and spoil it. Look!" she gestured to Laura, who had crawled over to Emma on her belly and was rubbing against her while Emma, still bound, squirmed and wriggled. "It feels wonderful for them. But you went and fucked it up now," she spat. 

She took another step and Claire stumbled over backwards, landing hard on her butt. The world was almost monochrome, Helen seemed to be towering over her, and the entirety of her skin had gone cold. It felt like there were insects crawling all over her. She scratched at her arms and back and felt nothing beneath her fingers. She curled up with her knees against her chest, and began to sob.

"Still," Helen continued, "I'm sure we can make a bad trip just as useful as a good one. It'll be a learning experience for you."

She grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. Claire was dragged over to Zoe, who had been passively spectating the whole time. There was nothing else she could have done anyway, bound up in a straitjacket with her mouth tightly gagged. 

"You can watch now, like 271 here," said Helen. "You can see what you're missing out on. Maybe you'll be better behaved next time." She instructed the attendant to fetch another set of restraints, and left Claire sitting dejectedly on the floor, shivering and hugging herself, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Apparently deciding that Emma was suitably under the influence of her fresh dose of compound, Helen removed the girl's bonds. She immediately reached out to grasp at Laura's body, and they had ended up in the same sort of desperate embrace Claire and Laura had shared, although the strip of tape covering Emma's pussy was apparently causing both of them a deal of frustration.

A surge of dread had Claire feeling physically nauseous as the attendant returned. The jangle of metal parts was oppressively loud in her ears, signifying another imminent session of uncomfortable restraint. He seemed to have picked out the equipment with precisely that quality in mind: there were two sets of cuffs forged from thick metal, unpadded on the insides. There were even a few streaks of rust, where heavy chains joined to rings on their surfaces. As if they wouldn't already be enough, the attendant had also brought a coil of hemp rope. A few strips of cloth hung over his wrist.

"Good," said Helen. "Let's see to 314. I don't think these two are going anywhere for now," she added. She stood up, leaving Laura and Emma to writhe against each other, alternately moaning and giggling as they explored their heightened tactile senses with each other. 

The attendant yanked Claire's arms behind her back, and a few moments later she felt the heavy metal cuffs click shut around her wrists. They were hard and cold, and the weight of them seemed to bear down on her shoulders. 

"Wait!" said Claire. "I- I'll be good. Let me go back with them."

"You had your chance."

"Please," she begged. "I didn't mean to-"

"Shut her up."

The attendant tied a knot in the middle of one of the strips of cloth, and held it in front of Claire's mouth. She clamped her lips shut, and turned her head away.

"Actually, that's probably not going to be enough," said Helen. "She'd still make too much noise. Unless..."

Helen unlaced one of her sneakers, and pulled it from her foot. She removed her sock, and wadded it up into a ball. Then she gripped Claire's jaw hard. Claire was shaking her head, blinking hot tears from her eyes as she pleaded, "No, please! I-"

Helen crammed the sock into her mouth, and held it there with her fingers while the attendant wrapped one of the cloth strips around Claire's mouth to hold it in place. By the time he was done, the lower part of Claire's face was covered with tight fabric, knotted together at the back of her neck. She let out a mewl of protest. It was much quieter than her earlier pleas.

"Huh, that worked nicely," said Helen. "Sorry about the sock," she said, putting her sneaker back onto her bare foot. "I didn't have a chance to grab any clean laundry this morning, so I've been wearing them since yesterday."

"Mmff!"

"Well you should have thought of that," said Helen, "before you got all those silly ideas in your head, shouldn't you?"

"Mmmn."

Claire was feeling completely defeated, and trying very hard not to think about the nature of the ball of fabric in her mouth. The visual effects of the compound were less intense now, leaving her with only the vaguest general sense of cold, muted colours that made everything bleak and dreary. The amplified sense of touch was still there though, and it made the hemp rope feel especially harsh and scratchy against her skin as the attendant began to wind it around her chest. He bound up her breasts, passing the rope under the first, then over the second, reversing the order on the next pass so that her tits were squeezed together between a figure eight of rough rope cord. With each pass the ropes became a little tighter, and Claire whimpered through her gag as she watched her breasts bulging as they were constricted, their skin taut. She could see the first hints of a reddish colour creeping across them as the attendant tied the ropes off behind her back.

"How does that feel?" said Helen.

Claire shifted her shoulders around. The rope didn't move one bit. She could feel her pulse through the restricted veins of her chest.

"What if I do this?" 

Helen curled her hand into a claw-shape, and scratched the tips of her nails across the taut upper surface of one of Claire's tits.

"MMPH!"

Helen smiled and laughed. She clapped her hands together in delight.

"Oh yes," she said, "it makes them a lot more sensitive, doesn't it? Especially to this sort of thing." She tensed her index finger against her thumb, and Claire was already crying out before Helen flicked her finger hard against her nipple, just grazing its surface. Claire made another muted scream.

"I should set aside a whole session to play with you like this, really," said Helen. "It looks like you're going to get off lightly this time. Now, legs out in front."

Helen tugged her legs forward, and then twisted them until Claire was obliged to roll over on to her front to avoid the pain. She grunted as her throbbing breasts came in contact with the floor, and shuffled over on to her side to spare them from the extra pressure. A second set of metal cuffs were fastened around her ankles, and then Helen folded her legs back in order to link that set to the cuffs around her wrists with a metal clip. She left Claire lying on her side, with Zoe sitting next to her. The other girl shifted her legs to adjust her position, and Claire could see pain in the girl's eyes. Her bonds also seemed to be causing her a great deal of discomfort.

Claire was aching. The initial, overwhelming effects of the chemical appeared to have passed, and she was beginning to feel tired. Her breasts were almost completely numb. The other girls were less fervent in their exploration of each other's bodies now. Laura seemed happy to lie with Emma draped over her limply, playing with a strand of her long hair. Helen crouched down alongside them, speaking in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Feels nice, doesn't it?" she said.

Emma nodded sleepily.

"I see you've enjoyed playing with each other. That's good."

She turned to the attendant. "They need to sleep off the rest of the effects in a comfortable setting. Take them to one of the beds. I can't imagine they'll mind sharing at this stage."

The attendant nodded, and left the room to fetch a colleague. Upon their return they took one girl each. Emma and Laura seemed to offer no resistance as they were hefted over the attendants' shoulders and carried from the room, hanging upside-down.

"As for you," said Helen, "you can stay here for now. Although Zoe... I suppose you must be feeling a bit sore. It'd be harsh to leave you for another hour," she squatted on her haunches in front of Zoe, "wouldn't it?"

"Mmmgh."

"Tough," she said. She pulled Zoe forward by one of the many straps hanging from her strait jacket, and she came to land lying awkwardly on top of Claire. Helen did something in the vicinity of Zoe's buttocks, which had her making pained noises from behind her gag.

"All still nicely held in position," said Helen. "Good."

She went over to the door, and then she paused, and turned back.

"Actually," she said, "I don't have anything to do just yet. I think I'll watch for a little while."

She sat cross-legged on the duvets, and tapped at her computer tablet. Zoe attempted to remove herself from on top of Claire, and the shift in weight had the unfortunate effect of squashing one of Claire's tits against the floor. Helen smirked at Claire's sudden cry of pain, and she carried on watching in amusement as the girls separated themselves clumsily.

She returned her attentions to her computer, leaving them to squirm.





