Author: Hoop

Title: Incarceration Ch.18

Part: Chapter 18

Summary: An attendant has his way with Zoe.

Keywords: MF, bd, oral



Zoe looked up at the blank face mask of the attendant standing over her. 

"I want to get out," she said.

A contemptuous laugh came from behind the mask.

"Please," she said, "it wouldn't really be your fault, right? If you were taking me to her and I somehow got free?"

"Not going to happen," he said. 

"What do you care, though? You just work here, right? All you seem to do is drag us from place to place."

He didn't answer.

"It's not right. You know it isn't right," she said.

"Shut up."

"You're just as bad as-"

"Shut up!" the attendant dropped to his knees beside Zoe and grasped her face with his gloved hand, bringing his blank mask close. Zoe wondered how they could see through them. Perhaps it was like mirrored glass, or something.

"You keep quiet, girl," he said, "unless you want me to make you quiet."

They were both silent after that. Zoe had been taken aback at the sudden escalation of the attendant's temper. She decided she might try a different approach - some way to try and make a connection between them that she could use.

"I'll suck your cock," she said.

This time, the attendant's laughter was genuine.

"Come on," she said. "I'm really good at it."

It was a lie. Zoe had never had a cock in her mouth. Her four years of university had been considerably less debaucherous than many other girls' in that respect.

"Is that so?" said the attendant.

"Let me," said Zoe. "And then maybe, I don't know, perhaps you could accidentally neglect to do some handcuffs up all the way, or something?"

She got up on her knees, and made her way over to the attendant, slightly awkwardly without being able to use her arms for balance. She put her chin to his thigh, and looked up at him from below. "Please," she said, "I bet you'd like it."

"You'd better go and sit back down," he said, "or you'll regret it."

"Come on," said Zoe. She moved her face closer to his crotch. The fabric of his trousers was tightening. She was disgusted at the thought of what she might end up doing, but made sure not to show it. She looked up at him again, and ran her tongue across her lip.

"I want to," she said. "All that training Helen puts us through... I can't take any more of this girl-girl stuff. I want cock."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Try me," she said.

The attendant paused awhile. Then he shrugged, and Zoe yelped as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her to her feet.

"What the hell," he said, "it has been a while. And we've got an hour. Let's go someplace else, though."

"...and there might be some accidentally-loose handcuffs?" Zoe ventured.

"Don't push your luck," he said. "We'll see just how well you do suck cock first. Now shut up. We can't talk about this once we're outside."

He pulled her out into the corridor, looking around conspiratorially before they made their way to the stairwell and descended three floors. He kept hold of her with one hand while he leaned into a storage cupboard, pulling out a roll of silver duct tape. She asked what it was for, and he didn't answer.

After more shoving along corridors that looked less well-cleaned and maintained than the floors above, Zoe found herself in a bathroom illuminated by a single fluorescent strip light, the others apparently having burned out. The tiles on the floor and walls were covered with grime. Three sinks along one wall bore identical, green stains of lime scale beneath brass taps. Some kind of corrosion had crept under the glass of one mirror, and another had a cobweb of cracks across its surface. 

The attendant forced her down to her knees. The tiles were cold beneath them. He drew the electric baton from his belt, and pressed the prongs against Zoe's cheek.

"You try to run now," he said, "and I'm going to use this on you until the battery's dead. Got it?"

"But after..."

"We'll see about afterwards. Now, show me what you can do."

The attendant unbuckled his belt. He unfastened his trousers, and drew his zipper down. Apparently he was quite eager - after lowering his trousers a few inches, a tent of material sprang out, pointing at Zoe's face. Then he unbuttoned his boxer shorts, and produced his cock.

It jutted out at an angle just above the horizontal, looking a little under six inches in length. With a thumb and forefinger, he rolled back the foreskin to reveal its purplish head. Zoe wrinkled her nose. There were little white spots at the crown of his penis.

"What?" he said, "you got a problem with it?"

"N-no," she said. "It's fine."

"Good. Now get to it."

She opened her mouth. She thought that not looking at it might make the ordeal slightly less horrid, so Zoe closed her eyes as she put her head forward, closing her lips around the shaft and pressing against the underside of his cock with her tongue. She felt it twitch; it became even firmer now that it was inside. Zoe's lips drew back around her teeth as the taste hit her, like sweat and something mildly salty. She couldn't believe that other girls actually claimed to enjoy doing this.

The attendant grabbed her hair with both his hands and shoved her face into his crotch, and she retched as the tip of his cock grazed the back of her throat. Wiry pubic hair tickled against her nose.

"Come on!" he said.

She began to fellate him as best she could, working her lips and tongue around his organ. She bobbed her head back and forth, trying to swill up saliva for lubrication. Maybe it would dilute the taste as well, she thought. She gagged a couple more times as the attendant impatiently pulled her towards himself, and she choked out a strand of spittle and precum that dribbled down her chin. She rolled her tongue around his shaft, playing across the underside of the head, and put her tongue's tip against his frenulum, wondering if that was a sensitive area. It felt like it should be.

She sealed her lips around the shaft again and made a few more back-and-forth movements. Then she found her mouth empty, with the attendant pushing on her forehead to hold her head back. She took the opportunity to take a gasp of air. Her lips were wet with a mixture of both their fluids.

"You said you were good at this. This is the worst head I've ever gotten."

"I-I'm sorry," she said. "I'll try harder. Tell me what you like," she said, trying very hard to force a smile.

"This is a waste of my time," he said. "I'll take your cunt instead. At least you probably won't fuck that up as badly."

He shoved her down onto the floor, and knelt on top of her while he removed her strait jacket. Despite everything else going on at that moment, she was relieved to finally be liberated of the sweaty, thick material. She brought her arms in front of her slowly. She was sure she felt a shoulder joint crack, sending a surge of numbness down her arm.

"Stand up."

She did so. She tried to cover her nakedness self-consciously, and the attendant swatted her hands away. He snorted derisively. "I've seen better," he said. "Those tits aren't much to look at." He pawed at her chest, grabbing her roughly. "Can't even get a decent handful. Still, that's not too important. Get in the cubicle."

The attendant shoved Zoe into one of the bathroom stalls, and ordered her to sit on the toilet. There was no seat, and she cringed at the feeling of cold porcelain against her skin. It felt wrong. The bowl beneath her was streaked with rust-coloured stains. The position of the single light filled half the cubicle with shadow.

"Hands above your head," he said. The attendant produced the roll of tape he had fetched from the supply cupboard before, and bound her wrists together tightly. There was a cistern high up on the wall, with a bare copper pipe leading down to the toilet itself, and the attendant wrapped more of the tape around the pipe and her wrists, binding them to the wall above her.

She was regretting her decision now. "I only said I'd suck you off," she said, and received a hard slap across the face in response.

"That mouth of yours is useless," he said. "Feels like you've never sucked a cock in your life."

At Zoe's next attempt at objection, the attendant forced her mouth shut while he smoothed a strip of tape over her lips. Several more followed it, sealing her mouth completely. He used more of the tape to fashion makeshift cuffs for her ankles, and then tied them to the pipe above her head with long strips of it, spreading her legs wide, with her feet resting against the cubicle walls. She slipped down into the bowl a little, and then the attendant put his hands beneath her buttocks to heft her onto the rim. She was totally exposed to him. She was shaking her head, but either he didn't notice, or her didn't care. 

His prick had remained hard the whole time he was tying her up, and now he knelt down in front of her, guiding himself inside her with his hand. The height of the toilet meant he had to settle for an awkward half-squatting stance, steadying himself with one arm as he made his way inwards. Apparently deciding that the position was unworkable, he stood up again and pulled Zoe further forward, causing her arms to tug painfully at her shoulders. This way, his approach was slightly easier, and he was able to drive his cock in deep.

In some ways, it wasn't as bad as the dildo Zoe had been subjected to before. The attendant's cock was softer, and actually a deal narrower than the silicone toy that Emma had been made to fuck her with, on that day when Zoe had ended up taking a much more direct role in Helen's plans than she had ever intended. 

It was strange not being able to see the attendant's face, with only sounds of his laboured breathing coming from behind the blank mask. The thin porcelain rim dug painfully into Zoe's thighs, and her back bumped against the wall in time with the attendant's thrusts. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine somebody fucking her that she actually wanted to, but the realities of the situation kept creeping back in. In particular, it was hard to ignore the tape over her mouth, which was making her breathe hard through her nose. She couldn't properly relax the muscles in her legs because of how they were tied back; her thighs trembled as she shifted between equally uncomfortable positions. Then she slumped further down as the attendant pulled her closer to the edge, stabbing in a little deeper.

She would have thought he mightn't last that long, being already stimulated from her abortive attempt at fellatio. Then, as the minutes wore on, it began to seem like he would last longer as a result of it. She was starting to notice how cold it was down here. Goosebumps prickled on her arms, and she shivered. Her limbs throbbed with a multitude of aches.

Zoe felt something towards the end, as if her genitals thought they should become stimulated out of obligation. It wasn't close to an orgasm - she'd have hated herself if she had gone that far. She was just starting to enjoy the slight tingling feeling when the attendant finished, and a jab of warmth surged into her cunt. He pulled out, and emitted the remainder of his seed over her belly and thighs, making a strained grunting noise as he did so. Zoe looked down at the snotty strands as they began to run down her body, and sighed inwardly. At least it was over. Maybe she could take advantage of the attendant's post-climax satisfaction. 

"Mmmph," she said. "Mm-mmph." It would be no good if she was gagged. She needed to speak, to try and convince him to afford her some chance at escape. Although, truthfully, he hadn't seemed to be very sympathetic to her so far. She had to stay positive, she thought. It was the best chance she had. 

"Mmmmh nn mnn," she said, emphatically.

The attendant took his time cleaning off his dick with paper from the dispenser, dropping the used wads onto the floor. He put his trousers back on, and washed his hands at the sink while Zoe watched what she could see of his reflection in the mirror. Eventually, he came back over.

"Mmmh," Zoe pleaded.

"Hah, oh, that's right, I'm supposed to be letting you escape," he said. "I can't believe you fell for that. You must really be desperate."

His words were like a physical blow, like Zoe had been hit in the stomach. Her guts went cold.

"Amazing the things you'll do, isn't it?" he said. "Of course, you aren't the first one to try this." 

"Hnnph."

"How about you just sit here for now," he said. He checked the tape holding her legs apart, doubling some of it back on itself to spread her pussy even wider. "It'd be selfish of me to just have you to myself." He looked at his watch. "In fact, there's still about half an hour before Helen wants you... I'm sure some of the other attendants would enjoy coming down for a quick visit. I'll go and let them know," he said.

He left, and then the masked face appeared around the doorway once more.

"Oh, and you really need to work on those oral skills of yours," he said. "Terrible. Fucking terrible."

The sound of his coarse laughter was cut off as he slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Zoe's eyes were watering, but she blinked back the tears, resolving to direct her energy to something more useful. She could still make something of this situation, surely. Strips of hastily applied duct tape were nothing compared to the heavy-duty restraints Helen used. She tensed her arms as hard as she could, pulling downwards.

The only thing that happened was that the tape became uncomfortably tight around her wrists. She tried again, grunting with the effort. Then she started trying to rock back and forth, tugging harder on each successive forward motion.

There was a creaking sound from somewhere behind her, and she pulled harder still. Something was definitely shifting. The cistern pipe moved slightly against her back. She tried a few more back-and-forth tugs, and, when nothing more seemed to happen, she dispensed with the careful approach and began to thrash her limbs as much as she could, kicking her feet against the cubicle walls.

There was another creak, and then a sound like a ceramic plate snapping. She craned her head back as far as she could to look behind her. The pipe had come away from its mounting in the porcelain, leaving a fractured hole. Some white fragments fell to the floor with a tinkle.

Zoe shuffled sideways, and fell off the side of the toilet onto her back, thumping her head against the wall painfully. Her shoulders screamed agonising protest as her arms briefly bore her entire weight, and then she felt her wrists suddenly slip downwards. Gritty dust fell on top of her from where a pipe-bracket had been wrenched free from the tiles.

It took another few minutes of exhausting thrashing, and painful twisting of her joints, but eventually Zoe managed to slide her wrists free from the pipe. Her hands were mobile enough now to pick away at the tape on her ankles. She stopped halfway to tear the tape from her mouth, taking in a big lungful of air. By the time her legs were freed she was sweating all over, supporting herself on quivering muscles that seldom saw any use. After that, she used the lower corner of one of the cubicle walls to rasp away at the tape around her wrists, rejoicing silently when she finally cut through it.

She had to get out of here before another attendant showed up. She ran to the door, pulling it open and stepping into the corridor outside.