Author: Hoop
Title: Incarceration Ch.4 + Ch.5 
Part: Chapters 4+5
Summary: Emma and Laura are induced to bring a new girl, Zoe, to forced orgasm.
Keywords: FF, bd, nc, toys, sad, rape


Sounds of protest echoed down the corridor outside the cell. Laura listened at the door. They were growing nearer. A female voice, screaming an impressively diverse selection of profanities. 

She stepped back as the door flew open, and a pair of attendants hurled another girl into the cell. She landed heavily on the soft floor padding, before jumping to her feet and turning to pound her fists against the door moments after it closed.

"Fucking assholes!" she yelled. She appended a scream of frustration, dispensing with intelligible words. Then she slid to the floor, sitting with her back to the door and hugging her knees to her chest.

A new girl. Laura hadn't seen her before. She found it very hard not to stare at her. Was she really that pale? Maybe it was just the lighting. From what Laura could see, the girl's hair was pure white, and her skin was like paper, almost translucent. She glared at Laura.

"What's the matter," she snapped, "never seen an albino before?"

Laura averted her gaze. "Sorry." She looked back up. "Actually, I really haven't."

The other girl sighed. "I shouldn't be mad at you," she said. "It's just, I'm kind of on edge with the whole 'waking up in the back of a van, getting stripped naked and eaten out by some slave girl' thing."

She rubbed at her eyes, drawing her hands back through her snowy hair, which was slightly damp. "I'm Emma, by the way," she offered.

"Laura."

"Well, Laura, do you have any ideas as to what the fuck's going on? Because I've got nothing."

"I'm trying to remember."

"Last I recall I was leaving a seminar for my literature class. I'm not sure how long ago that was."

"You've already got more than me," Laura said. "I can remember getting up and catching a bus somewhere, but after that..." she closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on dredging up memories that didn't seem to be there. "Nothing," she said.

"Who would have brought us here? Why?"

Laura shrugged.

She picked the blanket up and passed it to Emma. "Here. Might help to dry your hair off a bit. I guess they took you to the showers, then?"
Emma nodded. 
"Fucking pigs. It's like they were going out of their way to be rough." She rubbed vigorously at her hair with the blanket, and then her pace slowed, and then she stopped as she let out a sob.
"It was horrible," she said. 

"Hey. Don't think about it now. It's OK."

"I'm scared, Laura."

Laura slid over to in front of her, and took her hands in her own. "Look at me," she said. Emma looked up, and, this close for the first time, Laura could see that the girl's irises were as colourless as the rest of her body, with only the faintest hint of pink.

"Don't let them break you." 

Emma was biting her lower lip. She nodded.

---

Four years of study at Imperial College had left Zoe with a second-class degree in synthetic organic chemistry, and a worrying amount of student debt. She'd considered it to be a remarkable turn of good fortune when, at a graduate careers event, she had hit it off with the representative of a small research firm. She had found herself attending an interview before really even finding out what it was that the company did. 

Her interviewer, a somewhat short girl with shoulder-length brown hair who had introduced herself as "Helen Stanford", had gone through a few questions about her subject, and followed up with a series of rather oblique questions about Zoe's attitudes towards ethics - human experimentation, and so on. She had tried to mould her answers to the expectations of her interviewer, and had apparently been successful, as today was the start of her second month at work.

They had told her the location of the facility was sensitive information. This was the only justification she was offered for being driven to work every day in a van with blacked-out windows. Certainly she saw the chauffeur service as a perk, but at the same time, not knowing exactly where it was that she went every day was a bit offputting. She had toyed with the idea of getting one of those smartphones with GPS, and using it to track the journey. Her employers probably wouldn't like that, though.

The van door slid open. Zoe stepped out onto bare concrete and walked over to the stairs, ascending two floors from the subterranean car park, turning left at the top of the flight and making her way to her lab. Fresh out of university, and she had her own lab. She had no idea what her employers were thinking.

She stepped inside her personal realm of glassware and clutter. The pair of blackboards on the wall had long since filled up with the spidery zig-zags of her synthesis plans, and the diagrams had spilled over to the clear glass fronts of the fume extraction cabinets, drawn there in dry-eraseable marker. She set about making preparations for the day's work. Her work so far had mostly dealt with the manufacture of indole alkaloids. 

Three hours in, the door opened at the far end of the room. This was one of the stranger parts of the interior set up - a door mounted the wrong way around, so that anybody could get in from the corridor outside, but it always remained locked to her. Every now and then, through the frosted glass, she would see figures passing by. Occasionally, like now, one of them would come in to see her. One of the masked men she assumed to be security guards stepped in.

"Miss Stanford wants to see you," he said. "Something about a 'synthesis scheme'". He enunciated the words carefully. 

"...through there?" she asked. She had never been allowed to venture into the rest of the building.

"I guess so," he said. He leaned around the corner and exchanged a few words with his colleague. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure she said she wanted to see you."

He left, and the door remained ajar. Zoe thought for a moment she could hear a girl's voice crying out in protest, somewhere down the corridor. No, she thought. Unlikely. 

The door hung open invitingly.

What was the worst that could happen? A slap on the wrist for daring to have a peek at the rest of the building? She'd done some good work in the last month, surely the reprocussions couldn't be too severe if she had a little look outside. Besides, the guard had left her door open. So she must be allowed through now, she rationalised to herself.

She leaned her head around the doorframe. The corridor was bland, with worn, blue carpet. Cream-coloured paint had been daubed directly onto bare brickwork, and pipes and electrical cables seemed to have been added as an afterthought, held to the walls and ceiling with metal brackets. Minimalist, she thought.

Zoe trailed one hand along the wall as she walked down the corridor. She realised that she was holding her breath, and laughed at the absurdity of it. Surely she was less likely to be caught if she walked confidently, as if she were supposed to be here. She headed off towards where the corridor made a t-junction, and, in the absence of any signs, made the arbitrary decision to turn left.

Passing another cloudy-windowed door like her lab's own, she paused. Was that a scream she had heard? She closed her eyes and listened. Another quiet cry. A third followed it, a drawn-out "nnn" sound, coming from within the room. It sounded like someone might be hurt. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

She gawped at the sight before her. She tried her utmost to rationalise what was going on, and failed. Helen, the girl from the interview, was seated in a reclined chair, tapping at the screen of a tablet PC with one hand. The other was down her pants. Kneeling on the floor opposite her was a blonde girl in a straitjacket, gagged and blindfolded, and letting out muffled cries every so often as Helen tapped at her computer. She looked up, and their eyes met. There was a protracted silence.

"Zoe. You, uh, you're not supposed to be in this part of the building." Helen appeared to be slightly flustered. She withdrew her hand from down her trousers, and peeled off the latex glove she was wearing. "How'd you get through?" she asked. With her other hand, she was tapping quickly at her computer.

Zoe disregarded her question. "Just what the hell is going on here, Helen?"

"Um. Research?" 

She pointed at the restrained girl, who was kneeling with her head slumped forward, and a thin stream of spittle running from her lips. "This? What fucking kind of research? This is what you do here?"

"It's all perfectly above-board, Zoe."

"No. No way. This is... this can't be legal."

Zoe started to back out of the door. She turned towards the sound of footsteps, and her stomach went cold at the sight of a pair of the presumed guards running towards her. Helen had also gotten up out of the chair, and was walking towards the door.

Zoe glanced down the corridor in the other direction. It was empty. She could try and flee. Still recovering from the shock of what she had stumbled upon, she started running when the guards were ten yards away. Useless. She felt gauntleted hands lock around her arms, pulling her back.

"No!" she screamed, "let me go! I didn't even mean to see!"

Helen had now come out of the room, and the pair of guards turned Zoe around to face her, holding her arms behind her back. She looked at Helen with a pleading expression.

"I- I won't tell anyone," she said.

Helen had taken a small implement from her pocket, about the size and shape of a TV remote. A pair of metal prongs protruded from its end. An electrical spark danced between them.
"Jesus Christ, Helen!"

Helen was smiling. Her expression was devoid of warmth. "I'm afraid you've seen too much," she said. "So from now on, you'll have to take a more direct role in our research here."

She jabbed Zoe in the neck with the implement, and it crackled. One whole side of her body went numb immediately. She felt wet warmth between her legs. Then the device crackled again, and consciousness left her.

---(Chapters were joined here)---

Whilst sitting in the cell was preferable to being actively involved in another perverse sexual torture, it was still very boring. Emma lay on her side in one corner of the room, her head resting on her arms. Her eyes were unfocussed, staring blankly. Laura was more restless, sitting or leaning against a wall for moments at a time before pacing across the cell. She tapped against the wall idly with her hands.

Both of the girls jumped as a pair of attendants appeared through the cell door. They were carrying batons, two feet in length and tipped with metal prongs. They jabbed at Laura first, and she cried out as the device delivered a considerable electrical shock.

"Out the cell. Now. Move."

One of the attendants prodded at Emma, who was halfway through getting up. He laughed as she let out a little yelp of pain. The girls were herded out into the corridor and along what seemed a fairly circuitous route through the building. At one point they found themselves walking across a suspended walkway above some sort of warehouse. For a brief moment they glimpsed one of the trucks below them opening its doors, and the dozen or so attendants who were waiting behind it took it in turns to step into the vehicle. Each one left with a girl slung over his shoulder. Some of them struggled, kicking and hammering their fists on the attendants' backs. Others hung limply, apparently resigned to their fates.

After a deal more painful jabs from their escorts, they were ushered into a room off the main corridor. As they stepped inside, Laura recognised it as the room she had been in yesterday, although the monitor bank had been folded away against the wall. The articulated screen brackets were curled in on themselves like the legs of some dead insect.

Laura flinched at the memory of the chair in the room's centre. Claire was currently seated upon it, although restrained a lot more heavily than Laura had been: an unreasonable number of nylon straps bound her arms, legs and torso, and her jaws were straining around an uncomfortably large ball gag. A blindfold covered her eyes. Small adhesive pads, each with a trailing length of wire, were stuck to her breasts and abdomen. The wires met at a control box on the floor. Claire was squirming as the chair buzzed quietly beneath her, oblivious to the rest of the room.

Emma put her hands to her mouth. She turned to Laura.
"What the..."

"Ah. 641. 523. It's about time." The brown-haired girl addressed them from the other side of the room. "This is actually a rather impromptu session," she said, "but I'm sure we'll manage."

Laura and Emma looked down. Another girl was sprawled on the floor, although not clothed in prisoners' garb - she was dressed simply, wearing a sweater, and a pair of jeans that bore a damp stain. Her hair was dark, cut short. 
"This is Zoe," the brown-haired girl explained. "Although I only call her by name because she doesn't have a number yet." She walked over, and prodded at the unconscious girl with her foot. 

"Zoe is one of our newest additions, for unexpected reasons that I don't feel like discussing. What's important is that we get started right away."

She opened a drawer and arrayed a number of items on one of the desktops: a variety of restraints, and a number of phallic objects in a range of sizes. "Here's how this is going to work," she said. "Come over here."

Laura stepped over the girl on the floor. Emma hesitated. Having spent less time here, she was correspondingly less compliant. One of the attendants encouraged her to move by applying a swift elecrical jolt to her buttocks. Meanwhile, Claire groaned as she weathered the effects of seven inches of vibrating silicone crammed inside her.

"As the new girl, Zoe's first experience will be being brought to orgasm. Whether she likes it or not. And you are going to provide her with that."

"You can't make us," said Emma. "No way. You can do this shit to us, but we're not going to inflict it on someone else."

"But there's the thing. I think that you will," the brown-haired girl said. "Well, depending on how sorry you feel for 314 over there." 

She gestured to Claire. She was parting her lips around her gag, apparently having some difficulty breathing.

"You remember what the chair feels like, don't you?"
Laura nodded once, slowly.

"And, well, after the first climax, things start to get really quite uncomfortable, don't they?"

Another nod. Laura started to feel the vaguest hints of where this might be going.

"So here's the situation," she continued. "Claire remains in that chair, with her ass and pussy being drilled, whilst those wires deliver electrical shocks to her as well, for a bit of variety."

As if to illustrate the point, an LCD on the control box flickered as Claire let out a long "mmph", before resuming her gasps.

"And she remains in that position until you bring Zoe here to a climax all of her own. Well, once she regains consciousness. Of course, she'll have no idea what's going on when she wakes up."

The brown-haired girl reached towards the table.
"And you're not going to be able to tell her, because you'll be wearing these."

She held out a pair of ball gags. The straps on each were thick, heavy-duty, and the buckling system also made provision for a padlock to be applied. 
"Go ahead," she said.
Emma eyed the mouth restraint with a disgusted expression. Laura took it in her hand, but hesitated. She sighed.

"Waste all the time you like. It's 314's problem how long you take, not mine."

Laura opened her mouth. She placed the gag between her teeth and allowed her jaws to relax as much as they were able, biting down into the rubber. She reached behind her head and fussed around with the strap. The brown-haired girl shook her head. 
"You can go one notch tighter," she said.
Laura did as she was told, making a noise from her throat as the ball shifted back, nestled behind her teeth.
"Turn around."
Laura heard a little snapping noise as the girl looped a padlock through a ring, securing the gag in place. Even though her hands were free, Laura would be unable to remove it. Emma was having a little more difficulty, fumbling around behind her neck as she tried to secure the buckle. Her expression was angry, but tempered by humiliation. 

After their gags were secured, they were ordered to strip from their overalls, encouraged by further prods from the attendants' painful implements. Emma stood with her arms in a v-shape, trying to cover as much of herself as possible. Laura wiped at a trail of spittle that was forming at the corner of her mouth. Behind them, Claire let out another breathless cry as the buzzing noise increased in intensity.

"Well now. Time for Zoe to wake up, I think."

---

Zoe became aware of someone slapping her lightly across the face. She blinked her eyes open, and awoke into an S&M nightmare. She jerked upright, kicking her legs and pushing herself back against the wall while she tried to take everything in. Apparently she had been moved while she was unconscious. Helen was perched on a workbench ten feet away, swinging her legs idly. At the other end of the room, Zoe could see the blindfolded girl she had stumbled across when she first discovered them. Now she was bound to a heavy-looking chair, with electrodes stuck to her skin, and squirming to the extent that her bonds would allow her.

Another pair of nude girls knelt on the floor in front of her: to the left, a black-haired girl carrying the faintest suggestion of surplus fat on her tummy and thighs. Alongside her was a ghastly-looking girl with pale, veiny skin the colour of milk. Her hair was likewise devoid of colour. Both of them were gagged, but otherwise unrestrained. The black-haired girl made an awkward slurping noise as she tried to hold back the drool that was forming around the obstruction in her mouth. They exchanged glances before the pale-skinned girl stood and walked over to the workbench, picking up and examining the implements laid upon it. The black-haired girl crawled towards Zoe on all fours.

"Helen! Just what the fuck is going on here?!"

She did not respond. She merely smiled at Zoe, and curled her lower lip below her teeth. She tapped at her computer, and the girl bound to the chair let out a few frantic moans, her body shaking as she strained against her unmoving bonds.

"Who are these girls? What did you do to them? Hey, stop!" she directed her last shout to the black-haired girl, who had knelt down alongside Zoe and was reaching for the zipper on her jeans. She was looking at her with an apologetic expression on her face, silently pleading, as if to say 'I'm so sorry.' The albino girl turned away from the workbench and squatted down the other side of Zoe. She held a cylindrical implement with a wide, rounded tip. She thumbed a switch on its side, and it whirred into life, emitting a low-pitched buzz. She placed it back down on the floor, and reached in to help the other girl wrestling with Zoe's clothing.

"Get off me! Helen! Make them stop! Ow!" 

The black-haired girl had slid around behind Zoe and pinned her arms behind her back. Zoe's shoulders strained. She found herself wishing she had joined a sports team, or done any sort of physical exercise at all during her undergraduate studies. The girl was easily overpowering her. Despite wriggling her hips desperately, the albino had managed to undo Zoe's jeans, and was tugging them down around her thighs. Zoe was confused for a moment as to why her legs felt so damp, and then remembered the unfortunate side-effect of whatever electrical device Helen had jabbed her with. She kicked her legs, although that was becoming more difficult as the other girl worked her jeans further down.

"You're a fucking psychopath, Helen!"

Her jeans were finally pulled down over her feet, and the pale girl discarded them to one side. She slid back up to Zoe, and hooked her fingers through the waistband of her panties.
"No! You are not taking those!" 

The girl started to tug on the undergarments, pulling them down a few inches. Zoe felt something wet drop onto her thigh, and saw that a long strand of drool was hanging from the girl's ball gag.

"Helen! This is fucking gross!"
The other girl merely giggled. The albino looked at Zoe, and her lips worked around the ball strapped into her mouth as she tried to say something. The best she could manage was a garbled combination of vowel sounds. She looked genuinely contrite as she returned to pulling at Zoe's panties, tugging them down inch by inch.

All the while this had been going on, the girl in the chair had been producing cries of steadily-increasing desperation. The albino looked around at her. Her knuckles were white from gripping the chair's armrests, and she was thrashing her head from side to side. Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her chest. Her abdomen was convulsing erratically as the electrodes on her skin delivered shock after shock.

"Better get a move on, girls," said Helen. "I'm not sure how long she can last..."

The albino girl increased her efforts, pinning one of Zoe's legs with her body and yanking her panties down to her ankles. She got them over one foot, and then grabbed Zoe's ankle and started forcing her leg back under her into an uncomfortable kneeling position. She was straining from the effort as Zoe fought her, and, for some reason, tears seemed to be forming in her eyes. She sniffled. Zoe had no idea what was going on. This was completely demented.

The girl behind her let go of her wrists temporarily, to help the albino in pulling Zoe's legs back. After a scuffle that lasted a couple of minutes and had all of them panting, Zoe had been forced into a spread kneeling position, with her leg muscles straining horribly. The black-haired girl was grappling her from behind, legs either side of Zoe's hips, and resting her ankles on top of Zoe's thighs. One arm was crossed over Zoe's chest, while she used her other hand to pin her wrists.

The position afforded Zoe very little freedom of movement. She could feel the girl straining as she grappled her, but Zoe was weaker. The albino brushed her middle and index fingers across Zoe's exposed genitals, and there was nothing she could do to stop her. She drew her fingers back and forth several times. Whilst Zoe felt a tickling sensation, she was in no mood to become aroused.

"Why, Helen?" she pleaded. "How the does any of this make any sense?"
She recieved no answer. The albino girl rubbed her fingers across Zoe a few more times before pausing to raise them to her mouth. There was a wet noise as she spat weakly, and then carried on rubbing at her with her now-moistened fingers. Zoe's arms shook as she tried to free herself, and in response the girl behind her hugged her chest more tightly. She grimaced as she felt fingers work their way inside her.

Across the room, the girl in the chair was squealing manically. The muscles in her arms and legs were visibly tensing to their limits. Her face was a mess: strands of drool hung from her chin, and, as she exhaled particularly violently, a trickle of snot made its way down onto her lip. The chair creaked as she strained uselessly against it.

Zoe heard another buzzing noise of a different pitch, and looked down to see the albino girl holding the vibrator in one hand. She rubbed at Zoe's pussy for a few more strokes, and then withdrew her hand, leaning in and pressing the device up against it. Zoe felt the device's motion spread throughout her in waves. The sudden intensity of it lead her to give an involuntary sigh. She tried to squirm backwards, away from the vibrations, but the girl behind her clamped down on her chest more tightly with her arm, wriggling her hips forward and pushing Zoe with her. She was powerless to retreat from the girl and her implement.

She remained that way for some minutes, the girl with her legs wrapped around her preventing Zoe from going anywhere as the pallid girl ground the vibrator against her crotch, switching hands every so often so she could continue to apply pressure. There was a brief respite as the girl stood up to collect another tool: a long, broad dildo with small bumps texturing its surface. She shifted the vibrator up to the top of Zoe's cleft, focussing on the small, hard bump that had appeared there. In spite of Zoe's protests, her body was at the mercy of the sensations resulting from the girl's attentions. 

As she moved the vibrator head in tight circles, she brought the tip of the dildo up against Zoe's labia. She eased it in, pushing her way gradually inside before giving the implement a slow twist. The bumping sensation from its surface had Zoe groaning, frustrated, hating herself for taking pleasure in the thick protrusion pushing up inside her. As the girl worked both the tools simultaneously, Zoe felt a familiar, tingling warmth building around her genitals.

Struggling had drained her of her strength. The grip on her arms and legs felt completely insurmountable, and her ability to resist was only lessened as the albino girl continued to stimulate her, minute after minute, every so often withdrawing the dildo to run the vibrating wand down the length of her pussy. Her muscles tensed, she felt herself start to lose control, and then her back arched as her orgasm seized her body. The grim reality of the situation was lost to her for the few moments in which her body was suffused by one of the most intense climaxes she had ever experienced. She felt the girl's grip on her loosen, and she slid down, her back coming to rest between the girl's thighs. Zoe panted, trying to regain her breath.

She drooped onto the floor as the girl released her and stood up. Both she and the pale girl were now gesturing alternately at Helen and the girl bound to the chair, who was shivering, her head hanging forward. Zoe curled her legs sideways and watched the scene play out: Helen manipulated her computer briefly, and then walked over to the chair, stooping down and deactivating the box controlling the electrodes. All three of them started to unfasten the myriad restraints holding the dishevelled-looking girl in place. They removed her blindfold and she blinked drowsily, her eyes remaining half-shut. The dark-haired girl eased the gag out of her mouth, and her jaw hung slack. She managed to croak a few words as they attended to the rest of her restraints.

"Fuck... I thought..." She wasn't coherent enough to assemble a whole sentence. They freed one of her arms from the straps, and she wiped at her nose with the back of her shaking hand. Her arms bore bright red marks where the restraints had covered them. Her legs were freed, and Helen stood by impassively. The pair of girls helped her up out of the chair, and she stood on wobbling legs before stumbling forward and practically collapsing onto the dark-haired girl, wrapping her arms around her. The other girl reciprocated, and they stood like that for a few seconds, before one of the guards jabbed at them with an electric baton. Zoe realised what the girl had been enduring: standing up, she had revealed the pair of thick protrusions that jutted up from the chair, which had until recently been jammed up inside both of the girl's orifices. They were wet, coated in a slimy mixture of lubricant and fluid from the girl's body. 

Helen threw a pair of keys over to one of the guards, who caught them in a gloved fist. 

"For the padlocks," she said. "They can take them off once they're back at the cell. Take this one with you as well," she said, pointing to Zoe.

"Now," she said, leaning over Zoe and looking down at her dispassionately, "these three girls will be your new cell mates. I do hope you get on with them."

She turned to the guards. "Get them out of here," she said. "And get someone from sanitation to come and clean this place up."

Soon Zoe found herself stumbling along the corridor, dragged by her wrist whilst the other girls were prodded along behind her. 

Venturing outside her lab was fast becoming the worst decision she'd ever made.



