Author: Hoop
Title: Incarceration Ch.2
Part: Chapter 2
Summary: Laura endures a number of forced orgasms.
Keywords: bd, nc, toys

Laura was awoken by the sound of the opening cell door. She had
time to rise into a kneeling position, rub her eyes, and get
halfway through yawning before one of the attendants grabbed a
handful of her hair and yanked her to her feet.

The man's voice came from somewhere behind his opaque faceplate.
"Number 523. You are scheduled for your first conditioning
session. You will accompany us."

"Don't I even get to..." she started to form a question, and was
promptly cut off.

"Silence!" he shouted.

They dragged her from the room, shoving her down into a
wheelchair that was waiting outside. Through the doorway, she
could see the new girl stirring beneath the blanket, raising her
head and squinting at the light admitted from the corridor. Laura
groped around in her memory. What had the girl said her name was?
Claire, that was it. Claire, number 314, and the co-occupant of
her cell since yesterday morning.

As far as Laura could tell, the new girl didn't like sleeping
alone. She had awoken during the previous night to the feeling of
Claire's body curled against her back, trembling as she sobbed
silently. Feeling the wetness of the girl's tears running down
onto her neck, Laura had taken her hand in her own, turning over
to face her and stroking her hair softly. This had gone some way
towards comforting her, and eventually she had fallen asleep,
with the top of her head resting against Laura's chin.

Laura didn't particularly mind having to share a blanket. She was
glad of the human contact.

Wide nylon straps were fastened around Laura's waist and wrists,
securing her to the chair. Although her feet were free to move,
kicking out in front of her wasn't terribly useful. Still drowsy
from her sudden awakening, she hung her head forward, eyelids
fluttering as her body tried to re-enter a sleeping state. The
attendants wheeled her down the corridor. Drifting in and out of
half-sleep, she caught brief glimpses of the areas through which
they passed: passages, uniform and grey. A metal walkway through
cold air, suspended above some sort of courtyard. A row of
windows, the light outside cold and bleak, illuminating
unfamiliar surroundings.

In time, they reached their destination. This room was different
to the ones Laura had seen so far - there was a great deal more
equipment around the place. A high-backed chair was situated in
front of a bank of monitors. The room's sole occupant, a
bespectacled, severe-looking woman, smiled humourlessly as Laura
was wheeled inside.

"Welcome to conditioning, 523."

The attendants unfastened Laura's restraints. One of them grabbed
her under the arm, and pulled her upright. She scowled at him,
eliciting no response. The masked figures merely stood, one
either side of the doorway, motionless.

"Take off your suit."

Laura reached for the zipper that ran up the back of the
loose-fitting red jumpsuit that seemed to be standard-issue
around here. She hated having to bare herself at the whim of
these people, but in her experience so far, resistance was met
with swift retribution. As she pulled it down, the fabric fell
away from her. She shrugged out of the sleeves, and peeled the
material away from each of her legs.

"Now your panties."

She was more reluctant to do this. A hard jab in the ribs from
one of the attendants had her picking up the pace, and she
removed that single piece of underwear she had been afforded.
Whilst she had been stripped down completely several times before
now, she still attempted to cover herself as best she could,
crossing an arm over her chest self-consciously. The woman walked
over to her.

"Still in reasonable shape, I see." She paused alongside one of
the workbenches to pull a pair of latex gloves from a cardboard
carton, tugging each over her hands and letting them snap back
against her wrists. She squeezed Laura's thigh lightly with her
fingertips, and then held one of her arms outstretched while she
prodded its bicep. She nodded. "Nice and soft. Good. We'll have
to do something about that, though," she said, gesturing at the
stubble on Laura's crotch. "Electrolysis, perhaps. But we shall
deal with that later. Please take a seat."

She walked to the chair and swiveled it around. It was
heavily-padded, upholstered in some black, shiny material that
looked as if it had been chosen on the merit of being easily
cleaned. It would almost have looked comfortable, were it not for
the protrusions that jutted up from the base of the seat. Blunt
shapes. A steep-sided cone with a rounded tip, about seven inches
long. Behind it was a smaller one, fatter and shorter. Laura's
thighs clenched together involuntarily.

From the workbench the woman took a plastic tube, flipped open
the cap, and squeezed a blob of translucent blue gel on top of
each of the protrusions. She rubbed at them with her fingertips,
ensuring each was thoroughly coated, before peeling off her glove
and tossing it into a bin. The cones glistened.

"Sit," she said.
Laura looked over her shoulder. The masked faces of the
attendants were impenetrable. The woman was looking at her
expectantly.
"I really would rather you sat of your own accord. It's all part
of the process," she said.
Laura's stomach felt colder with each step she took towards the
chair. Her anus was tensing involuntarily, as if it were trying
to retreat up inside her. She turned around.

"Any time you're ready."

Laura looked for a long time at the woman, whose expression
remained unchanged. She pleaded silently.

"Sit."

"...why? Why are you doing this?"

"523. I was sympathetic enough to consider not having you gagged
during this session. Your pointless questions are making me
consider changing my mind. Sit."

"It's not-"

"SIT DOWN, 523."

Laura placed one hand on each of the chair's arm rests. She
lowered herself slowly, delaying the inevitable. She winced as
she first felt the cold, blunt tip of that first protrusion nudge
against her pussy. She looked over to the woman, who nodded
solemly.

Ever so carefully, Laura lowered herself into the chair, feeling
her vulva yield and part as the protrusion was pushed up inside
her. A few inches in, the second bumped against her ass hole, and
she cringed as that, too, nuzzled its way inside her. She slid
down the cones, and her butt eventually came to rest on the seat
just at the point where she thought she could take no more. They
sat ensconced in her intimate regions, a pair of cold, foreign
objects, extremely unwelcome intrusions.

"That's good, 523. And you did it all by yourself, too. You're
making progress." The woman's words were anything but
encouraging.

"These restraints are for your own safety," she said, unraveling
a leather belt from a spool within the chair. "Can't have you
moving around and hurting yourself."

The chair's construction seemed to include an impressive array of
bands and buckling restraints: by the time the woman had
finished, Laura was secured to the chair by straps across her
ankles, wrists, tummy and thighs, as well as another set around
her knees and elbows for good measure. Her head was the only part
of her body that was still free to move. One of the wristbands
was slightly thicker, and bore a curved, plastic shape. Wires
emerged from one side and connected to a set of sockets set into
the front of a black box mounted beneath the screens. A row of
green LEDs blinked erratically.

Satisfied that she was secure, the woman swiveled Laura's chair
to face the monitor bank, and it dropped down by an inch or so.
There was a click as it locked into place.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to leave you now," she said. "All
of this has to be operated remotely. Just try and relax, and take
in as much as you can from the screens."

With her back to the door, Laura could hear the woman's footsteps
as she walked out, joined by two more sets as the attendants also
left, presumably to go and drag some other girl to her fate. The
door clicked shut, and the lights in the room dropped to a dim
glow. At the same time, the bank of monitors sprang to life, each
one a snowstorm of static.

From left to right, images began to emerge on each of the
screens. They cycled after varying intervals, each out of sync
with the others as the pictures came and went. It was a gallery
of perversion. Laura found herself drawn to one or the other
screen as new images appeared: a girl, hogtied, completely nude.
Another girl, bound supine on a table and blindfolded, while a
man hilted himself in her spread pussy. A pair of girls clad in
black rubber, tied together in an inescabable embrace. A close-up
of the expression on the face of a girl at the moment a whip
impacted against her buttocks. The slideshow continued. Laura
grew uneasy at the prospect of being subjected to the sort of
treatment that was displayed before her.

A minute in to the images, she felt a twinge in her pussy as the
protrusion stirred within her. It buzzed against the soft walls
surrounding it, vibrating in short, spaced bursts. Laura tensed
one buttock, and then the other, but she was held firmly in
place. The vibrator pulsed again with a low thrumming sound,
joined by another frequency as the second started to throb inside
her anus.

The pattern continued in the same manner for a few minutes. A
tingling, aching warmth was already beginning to build in Laura's
nether regions. Her cheeks flushed red. Her skin began to moisten
with sweat. She had been clenching her teeth for the meanwhile,
but was unable to stifle a moan as both of the vibrators
synchronised in one long burst, drilling deep into her. Her mouth
remained open as her breathing became heavier.

Laura's fingers dug into the arm rests as the duration of the
pulses became longer. Her breath started to come in gasps, each
exhalation a little moan as the feeling intensified. She was only
half paying attention to the screens now, between bouts of
screwing her eyes shut and biting her lower lip. When she did
look at them, she could see the images were cycling more quickly.
Every so often a screen would skip a beat, briefly flashing into
a solid, coloured square. Whilst one displayed a burst of static,
she thought she caught a peripheral glimpse of text on another.
At any given time, three quarters of the screens still showed
images of girls restrained in various ways.

She let out a shuddering cry as the intensity of the vibration
increased. Whatever mechanism was driving them had been stepped
up a notch, and now both intrusions were buzzing with a low,
powerful hum. She squirmed to the extent the restraints would
allow her, smooth leather sliding over her skin for the inch or
so that she was able to move. She ground her teeth before crying
out once more. The sensation was oppresive, all-consuming, her
body completely at the mercy of the implements buried in her ass
and cunt. She was allowed no respite. The devices thrummed within
her, pushing her onwards mercilessly, minute after minute. As
they twitched inside her, she felt herself start to come.

She was beyond caring about any noise she made now. Her mouth
gaped as she produced a drawn-out cry, followed by a gasp as she
struggled to regain her breath. Her orgasm bloomed for long
moments, spreading across her body like a hot wave. Sweat dripped
from the end of her nose. Her chest was slick from perspiration.
Her muscles tensed to no avail, only causing the straps binding
her to creak slightly.

Laura had expected the vibrators to stop once she had climaxed.
It didn't look as if that was going to happen. Whilst she was
fairly sure the vibrations had decreased in intensity, they were
still powering onwards, filling her pussy with an aching
sensation.

"I..." she started to speak to the darkened room, perhaps hoping
that there was a microphone somewhere. They must be monitoring
her. "I'm finished! I'm finished, stop!"

The vibrators continued to buzz.

"...please?" she added. The response came as a burst of pulses,
the vibrators alternating for seconds at a time. Their pace
slowed, and Laura almost began to believe that they were ceasing.
Then she squealed as both of them ramped back up to full power,
straining her head back against the head rest, all the while her
thighs and buttocks tensing under the second assault. It was all
she could do to manage a few coherent words between gasps.

"Please! Oh god. Pleeease sto-ho-hop!", the last word was
stuttered in time with a series of particularly strong pulses.
Her breathing was completely erratic: holding her breath seemed
to help one moment, only to have her gasping the next as she
screamed weakly. The machine propelled her inevitably towards her
second climax.

Depleted from the first, it took some ten minutes of constant
stimulation before Laura howled as she was wracked by a second
orgasm. Her sounds of protest were near-manic. The straps bit
cruelly into her skin as she strained against them with all her
strength, desperately trying to free herself. She thrashed her
head from side to side, hair hanging down over her face. Her
whole body shook. The plastic covering of the chair was wet
against her skin, and a squelching sound accompanied the writhing
of her hips in a warm puddle of her own fluids.

Laura experienced the time after that as a blurry, half-lucid
experience. Through watery eyes she could still make out the
constant parade of images, and she tried desperately to focus on
them in an attempt to distract herself from the overwhelming
sensation in her pussy. Wave after wave of vibration throbbed
within her. Every breath became a moan of desperate protest, and
the onslaught continued.

By the time the third orgasm was wrung from her body fifteen
minutes later, she was crying hysterically, face contorted as her
senses were assaulted by a potent mixture of pain and pleasure.
Her thoat was hoarse, and every muscle ached from her struggles,
only half under her conscious control. Her fingers had left
permanent depressions in the chair's armrests as she had dug into
them.

And then, abruptly, the vibrations stopped. The machine instantly
fell completely silent. Laura's heartbeat pounded in her ears.
The monitors returned to static snow before blinking off.

She whimpered.

Laura sat motionless, head lolling to one side. In time, her
breathing became more even and steady. She was exhausted. After a
few minutes there was a sound from behind her as the attendants
re-entered the room. One of them pushed the wheelchair over,
whilst the other knelt before her, undoing each of the straps in
sequence. As the last few were undone from her elbows and
abdomen, she sagged forward into his arms. The other attendant
stood, and they cautiously began to lift her up. There was a
sucking sound as the smooth cones were pulled from each of her
orifices. Sticky strands hung between her thighs and the chair,
shining wetly. One of the attendants sighed, and laid a towel on
the seat of the wheelchair before they sat her down in it.

They buckled the straps that had held her into the chair before,
but it was merely a formality - Laura's body was mostly limp. Her
face bore a drowsy expression, eyes half closed. They draped a
thin sheet over her from the neck downwards, and she was vaguely
aware of a drop in temperature as they wheeled her out into the
cool air of the corridor. She half-overheard the attendants
talking as they wheeled her off.

"This one... 523, right?"

"Yeah."

"She's in the same cell as that new girl?"

"Looks like."

"What about the other one then? 641?"

"I think she was assigned to their cell as well. Eh, I'm
scheduled to pick her up at 1300. Guess I'll find out then."

"641... she creeps me out."

"Oh, come on. I'd call her 'exotic', don't you think? Anyway, I'm
sure they'll get along just fine. Right?"


Laura felt a hand pat her on the shoulder. One of the attendants
laughed briefly.

As they pushed her onwards, she counted the ceiling tiles
overhead. Anything to take her mind off how sore she was.



