"You bastards! Let me out of here!" Bea yelled, pulling and struggling as much as she could. She was confined in some kind of metal contraption, metal arms holding her wrists and ankles keeping her body spread. She had been only half undressed- her white blouse hung open, holding on with one straining button, as her lacy black bra peeked over top the fabric. Her navy pencil skirt had been removed at some point unbeknownst to her, and only her matching black panties covered poor, neglected nethers.
Beatrice Long was a journalist. Or thats what she fancied herself, at least. She was mostly stuck writing annoying list articles or reviews of knock off Wish dot com purchases. She was convinced, however, that one day she'd find the trail of a real story, and then she'd make a name for herself! This naive desire made picking her up simple. Leave an easy trail for her to follow, a possible connection to the string of female kidnappings in the area... and then scooping up her small 5'1" frame would be easy.
She didn't remember how she ended up in this situation. She had been following a lead, entering an abandoned building outside of town... and then everything was blank. She groaned with frustration as she realized in her haste to catch this scoop, she hadn't told anyone where she was going... and there would be no reason to look for her on this side of town.
The mechanisms under her whir to life, jerking her out of her thoughts. A padded beam slides and locks at her hips, and the mechanical arms fold her over it. When she opens her mouth to object, a gag forces itself down her throat. The obstruction was lubricated and eased past her gag reflex, but still settled uncomfortably. Her tongue ran experimentally over the intruder. Long, hard... and the lube tasted almost sickeningly sweet. She was forced to breathe through her nose... which was difficult given the attention the rest of her body received.
Another device rose from the ground between her legs, and a bulb nestled right on her clit- the thin fabric of her panties doing little to dampen the sensation. She tried to pull away, but she was stretched taught over the beam, and it only served to rub her sensitive button even more against the bulb. She groaned against the gag in her mouth. It had been at least a year since her last sexual encounter... she'd been too caught up in work. She'd barely even found the time to finger herself any more. But now, minimally exposed as she was... her body felt hot with need long since repressed. She sucked a little at the gag in her mouth, rewarded with more of that sweet taste that made her body tingle oh so much more. She rocked a little more, her mind going hazy with need.
"Good girl."
She stopped. The voice had been mechanical, as if from a speaker. Realization of what she'd been doing washed over Bea and she felt disgusted. She began to struggle again, groaning against the gag. What the hell was this? Where was she??
The machines began to shift again. More mechanical hands appeared and gripped at her breasts, pulling the C cups free from her dangling blouse. They kneaded her tits, causing another round of bucking and whining from the helpless Bea. The hands were advanced, able to squeeze her breasts, roll her nipples, and cause all sorts of forced pleasure. As much as she tried, she couldn't ignore the sensation. As she tried to ease back to relieve her tits of the hands, the bulb pressed against her clit began to vibrate. Hard.
"Ogh Gog!" Bea howled a little against the gag, her eyes rolling. Her little bullet vibe at home couldn't possibly compare to this. This was industrial, and forced every bit of it's vibrating power right into her most sensitive spot. She bucked, back and forth, grinding her crotch against the vibrator's head as the mechanical hands at her chest squeezed and massaged her. She came. Then she came again. Her body felt so overly sensitive and hot she could barely think. She began to suck on the gag in her mouth, her tongue running over it again as she did as she remembered past lovers, the shapes of their cocks.
