Themes/tags: Heavy bondage, straitjacket, ball gag, masturbation, dubious consent, imprisonment, confinement, male/female, punishment, unfair situation, bad ending
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Sitting on the padded bench, I leaned back against the wall and surveyed the inside of the cell I was locked in. Occasionally I would worm around in my restraints, my arms rustling around in the sleeves of the straitjacket that kept them pinned against my chest.
It wouldn't be the first time I would survey it. Usually, there wasn't much to do
other
than glance around at the interior of the padded cell. I mean, I could get up and move around, at least to whatever extent the tether connecting my jacket to the bench would allow. Or I might make muffled, unintelligible noises into the large ball gag sitting in my mouth, held in place by an elaborate head harness. But to say that there was little to do was an understatement.
Not that it was always boring, per se. Being trapped in the heavy restraints had a peculiar, uncanny way of turning me on, particularly whenever I writhed about inside them in my repeated, vain attempts to free myself. Feeling my erection swell up underneath the layers of heavy fabric as I twisted and turned within the snug confines of the straitjacket, pulling this way and that against the sleeves while occasionally moaning into the gag occupying my mouth, often vexed me, given how out of reach my shaft was from my pinned arms.
Each reflexive attempt to bring my hands down there to grant myself some relief resulted only in further rustling and fumbling within the sleeves, restrained as they were against my torso. The only option I was realistically left with was to squirm around uncomfortably in an effort to, well, manage those feelings. That alone was enough to keep me occupied for indeterminate, frustrating stretches of time, causing me to buck and writhe in place while emitting regular muffled whines into my gag.
Of course, the staff was well aware of this tendency of mine, and it was a major reason I was stuck here to begin with too. But that's a story for another day.
This day was a little different though. Because I got a change of scenery, for once. Well, sort of, anyway. In any normal setting, that would mean having some kind of view of the outside or something, some means of looking at literally anything other than squares of white padding. However, what was notable was that they had transferred me out of my normal single-occupancy cell into this one, which was quite a bit larger. This cell had at least enough room for two people.
I don't know what I did to deserve the extra real estate. It probably wasn't a reward. I would have known if it had been. No, I think there was a maintenance issue in my cell, so they had to move me to this one. Nothing personal at all.
Of course, a real reward would have meant discharging me and giving me the option to exit this place for good, clearing up whatever paperwork issue was keeping me trapped in here. Paperwork which, given my luck, probably had my own signatures all over it. And there was probably lots and lots of it, to boot. I can't even remember what all I signed. I just remember realizing in hindsight what a bad idea it had been.
Apparently, they were in no rush to do any of that.
But this cell was still an upgrade nonetheless. I couldn't complain. Well figuratively I couldn't, of course, but I guess also literally. After all, I had a big fucking ball gag sitting in my mouth.
"Mmmph hmmph."
Anyway, the cell was bigger. It felt a little more open and a little less confining. And my tether had a little more slack added so I could still move around the cell, although without having enough length to be able to walk over to the heavy padded door without being stopped by it. The cell was also a square shape, contrasting with the oval shape of the smaller cell I was typically locked away in. You start to notice these kinds of things after a while.
And when the cell door opened, one of the staff members brought in something unexpected. Another patient - well, a term I'm inclined to use rather loosely.
"Okay, let's get you settled in," he said. It was always interesting how their teal uniforms contrasted with the white padding of the cell's interior. Anyway, the woman he brought in was wrapped up in her own institutional restraints. She was youngish, with long, stringy black hair. She was not gagged like I was, though. Maybe her intake process hadn't quite proceeded that far.
The staff member helped her sit down on the padded bench against the wall opposite me. Looking over her straitjacket, he checked to make sure all the buckles were tight and that everything was secure. I noticed, however, that he didn't bother to tether her like they did me. If she wanted, she could have freely walked around the entire interior of the cell. Perhaps she was determined to be of lower risk?
"Now you just stay here and relax, alright? We've got some paperwork to go over and we'll be back in to check on you."
The staff member barely acknowledged me, which was strange. Seemed he had his hands full, and besides, he wasn't exactly assigned to me anyway. Again, probably nothing personal. After he left, I could hear the latch click on the other side of the door as he sealed us both inside.
This was very unusual. I hadn't ever shared a cell with anyone before. The only explanation I could think of for this was a space issue. They had to put her somewhere, and they didn't have that many padded cells, which also explained why the ones they had were quite small. Too small, if you ask me. You might come to that conclusion if you were trapped in one for hours at a time.
I sat there on one side of the bench while she rested against the wall on the other side. I decided to stay on my half of the cell (which, I guess that was suddenly an unofficial thing now), in an effort to give her some space and not upset her too much. I imagined using my foot to draw an imaginary line on the floor, dividing the cell in half and marking my territory, a thought which I found amusing.
Anyway, we sat there in an awkward silence for several moments, a silence that I was unable to break, at least.
Eventually, she let out a sudden, slight laugh, looking at the locked heavy door on the opposite end of the cell. I glanced over at her, giving a muffled quizzical sound. "Mmf?"
"Wow, this place is funny," she finally said. "They seem pretty nice here. Some of the questions they ask during the intake are kind of out there, though."
I peered at her, writhing about slightly in my restraints.
"I'm Amanda," she continued. She sounded friendly, albeit somewhat bored and whimsical, speaking in a soft voice.
"Mmf," I muffled in response.
"How long have you been in here?" she asked, leaning back against the padded wall and stretching her legs out.
"Mmph. Hrmmph hmmph," I responded, narrowing my eyes as my mouth worked around the bulky gag that was stuffed in it. Couldn't she see my situation? Come to think of it, there was literally no way to have communicated an answer. I mean, holding up fingers was out of the question too, for obvious reasons.
I guess I could have tapped my foot against the floor to indicate a number, but even that would have been unclear. For example, five taps perhaps, but indicating what? Days, weeks, months? And even so, I had kind of lost track anyway.
She looked over at me curiously, then giggled. "Aww, you seem nice." I softened a bit at the comment. "I mean, really. I had this ex who was, well, very problematic. Really gave me a hard time. I won't go into all that. But I don't get that about you."
I made another muffled noise, worming about slightly while sitting on the bench in the corner. Well, it was nice to have made a good first impression. She struck me as one of those people who was probably very accepting of others.
"So I'm a manager at a tech company," she continued. "Get a lot of calls from frustrated people. It's really stressful. Someone suggested I come here for a bit just to decompress, said it might help me relax a little bit."
I peered at her again while leaning in. Alright? Curious way to go about stepping away from work. You had no other options, I thought? Maybe a theme park?
"So, see, I read this article about these people, I think it was in another country, who would go to this mock 'prison' just to take a break from the everyday world, and all the pressures and stuff. So I saw I could do the same kind of thing here and thought I would try it." She chuckled. "It seems kind of weird, like who would want to go to prison? But, I like to be open-minded about these things. I decided to see if maybe it would help."
I perked up a little bit. Coincidentally, I remembered reading that same article. I had some thoughts about it too, which were safely locked behind my ball gag for the time being. Nonetheless, my lips worked around its surface anyway.
And speaking of which, prison may have been preferable. At least then I would have had my arms free, maybe a window to look out of, and most importantly, a release date. But the problem was that I was innocent. I hadn't done anything to warrant a stay in prison.
She gave another giggle. "I mean, imagine seeing prison as a vacation. What a weird thing. What is this world coming to, if that's the case."
Indeed. I often wondered when my "vacation" was going to end. They just had a way of finding reasons to keep pushing that end date further back, keeping me trapped in this place indefinitely. At the same time, I started to worry that perhaps she was unknowingly doing the same thing I did. What paperwork did she sign to come in here? I hoped she had someone look it over first.
"Anyway," she continued, "My job is pretty cool. They're nice enough to me. But every day is just the same. It starts to feel routine, like I'm just collecting a check. Ever have those days where you're just going through the motions, but it doesn't feel like you're really getting anywhere?"
Boy, could I relate to that. "Mmh hmm."
"So I figured a change of scenery would be nice," she continued. "Might help me get a different perspective on things, you know."
I nodded again. "Mmh hmm."
She sat her head back against the padded wall, shifting a bit in place to get comfortable. "See, I think what I needed to do is just take more risks. You know, not get complacent. Break out of the routine and find different things to do now and again. It's easy to just do the same thing for too long."
"Mmph. Mm hmm," I said in muffled agreement. Okay, I thought, you seem nice too, and I'm happy to listen and everything. But frankly, this conversation is a
