A little content warning on the story: It's femdom, it's quite extreme, and it lives up to the tags. You've been warned. If this is not your cup of tea, please turn back instead of leaving a hateful comment. Also, all the characters are fictional and this is only a hypotechnical exploration of more extreme fantasies in a modern fantasy setting. It should be clear that none of this should be emulated in real life without total trust, consent, and understanding. If I get feedback to continue this, there will be more worldbuilding and character moments in future chapters -- not just dumb whip-strokes (though those felt necessary for this crude awakening in the first chapter).
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Michael opened his eyes only to see an unfamiliar ceiling above him. He felt groggy and disoriented, but the feeling faded and his senses sharpened as he came to. A bunch of new sensations attacked him. He felt restraints strapping his body down, he was naked and there was a rubber gag stretching his jaw, drool pooling at the edges.. What the hell, he thought. Panic set in and his muscles tightened and heartbeat rose as he tried to fight the restraints. The more he fought, the more dull his limbs and senses became. He had to have been drugged or something.
He craned his neck up to get a look at the restraints. They seemed like black medical braces, a few on each limb fastening him into a gurney of sorts. It was man-shaped, with padded sections extending out beneath his limbs. It held his legs spread and his arms angled out by his sides. The thing in his mouth must have been a ball gag, fastened with a strap around his head. And it wasn't the only unexpected thing on him.
Michael stared down the length of his naked body, his neck hurting from the effort. Behind the slight beer-belly he was often self-conscious about, he could see something metallic between his legs. He knew what it was from all the femdom porn he had seen. A chastity cage. And from the looks of it the smallest that probably would fit him. It looked like he'd been shaves smooth, too.
His head ached. Torn up bits and pieces of last night came back to him. He shuffled the cards of his memory, feeling like he was missing more than half the deck. He had been out clubbing, trying to score with the ladies to put an end to his embarrassingly long dry spell. He had spent an hour sitting in a booth with two stunning blondes, buying them drinks and desperately trying to keep the conversation flowing. They had been very forward and suggestive with him, unexpectedly breaking the ice on intimate topics. Soon they had been chatting away about his long-cultivated femdom fantasies, they had smiled, nodded along, and asked a lot of questions as he told them all about his perversions. It has been too good to be true. He had thought he'd be in for the night of his dreams with one or both of them. They had that domme energy about them. One of them got up to get him a drink. Soon after downing that drink everything went fuzzy. He hardly even remembered what they looked liked now. The memory faded as the hum-buzz of the bright fluorescent lights above him brought him back to reality.
Still processing the shock and breathing heavily, Michael started looking around the room as terror began to set in. In a way, it looked like a doctor's office. Sterile, with bright white lights and teal walls that turned white half the way up, a darker teal stripe breaking up the two colors. There were cabinets and racks stacked with a mixture of sex toys and actual medical equipment. He thought it looked like the medical play room of a very well built BDSM dungeon. Yet some of the stuff looked too professional and actually useful in more than play.
He kept looking around fearfully, anxious to find out more. He thought he heard footsteps clicking in a hallway outside the double doors at the opposite wall, and maybe even a distant moan or cry. There's other people here! He realized he could hear someone typing on keyboard in his blind spot, in the corner behind him. It brought to mind a doctor typing up his files as he rested on a gurney... except that he had no idea where he was, why he was tied up and naked, and who this unseen person was. He tried to shout into the gag, muffled and pathetic. It elicited a chuckle from the other person in the room. It was a woman's voice, soft and noticeably amused.
He could hear a chair rolling back and heels clicking on the tiled floor as they approached him from behind. A young woman walked into view on his left hand side. She had wavy ginger hair and her outfit was somehow both porny and modest: a white latex mini dress with short sleeves zipped up to her neck, sheer white pantyhose and a pair of heels he could hear but not quite see. On her head was a nurse's cap, but instead of a cross it had a little stylized symbol resembling a male chastity cage as seen from the front. He must have been dreaming... what was this?
She had a knowing smirk on her glossy, bright red lips. Michael looked her up and down in sudden awe. Her porny outfit screamed nurse kink, but the way she carried herself made it regal, not cheap. He could feel the cage snuffing out his erection before it even began, deepening his sense of helplessness by another order of magnitude. Then she leaned in a bit and spoke.
"Hello Michael... I'm going to take this gag off... scream, and it's back in, pet." Her voice was soft, but with some raspy fry in it. As she leaned down and snaked her fingers around his head to gently unhooked the clasp on the gag, Michael's eyes dropped to her chest, wrapped in the skin-tight latex. A dull pain lingered on Michael's tightly confined cock as he imagined her zipping down the front of her dress. Caged and useless, his hips twitched and he wiggled his fingers a bit, cursing the restraints in his mind. So close, yet so far away. He did feel a pang of quilt, however, for perving on this woman the minute he met her, even in this bizarre situation. In so many ways this was a dream come true, and his cock seemed to think so too as it fought against the snug cage. In an equal amount of ways he was also worried beyond reason. Where was he? What the hell was happening? What did she want with him?
"There we go." The nurse (if she really even had any such qualifications) laid the gag down in a tray on a rolling side table. Relieved, he took a deep breath in through his mouth and was about to launch into a confused tirade of questions and pleas, when a gentle finger clad in white latex gloves landed on his lips. "Shush." It wasn't a bark, more like a whispered command -- a velvet glove over an iron fist. The traces of some subduing drug in his system also helped him swallow his cry for help. "Let me do the talking, ok?" She stared down at him with a knowing smirk.
Michael swallowed his frustrations with no small effort and nodded at the latex-clad nurse of his deepest femdom fantasies, his lip quivering a bit. He was worried, afraid, and helpless and at this stranger's mercy. And also inexplicably aroused. But he wasn't stupid. He knew this to be the part where you're supposed play nice and try to learn more about what's going on and how to survive the predicament.
