The courtroom buzzed with grim anticipation as people filled the benches, craning their necks for a glimpse of the defendant. Alice Merton, a bright, twenty-eight-year-old scientist, walked into the room, a stark figure in her striped prison garb. Her back was rigid, her steps measured, defiance etched in every line of her posture. Her face, framed by tousled brunette hair pulled into a severe bun, was obscured by a clear spit mask, a dehumanizing shield against unwanted aggression. Yet, through it, her eyes were discernible – clear, icy blue, and full of steely resolve.
Her wrists were secured behind her in handcuffs, linked to a wide, locked leather belt. Each step she took was measured, the clinking of leg cuffs echoing ominously in the hushed room. Alice Merton, once a symbol of scientific innovation, now wore the uniform of a criminal. And yet, her demeanor radiated calm.
Alice was a renowned figure in her field, acclaimed for her intellect and unrelenting drive. Her groundbreaking creation, the Everbind, had promised a revolutionary solution to a pressing societal issue. Prisons, bursting at the seams with inmates, were a sore point for the government. The call had been issued - a significant reward promised to anyone who could provide a viable solution to the prison overpopulation crisis. Alice, with her pragmatic mind and absence of moral constraints, had answered that call. As the creator of the Everbind, a device designed to replace physical imprisonment with a more 'humane' yet punitive alternative, Alice had become a household name. She was the face of a new era, where scientific progress was once again hailed as the solution to society's greatest challenges.
But today, the adoration had evaporated, replaced by an air of trepidation and resentment. Alice Merton stood in the dock not as a revered inventor but as a defendant, accused of a crime that threatened to undo everything she had worked so hard to achieve.
Her gaze remained steadfast, her face devoid of any tell-tale sign of fear or regret, as the prosecutor began to weave the intricate tale of her rise and impending fall; a damning narrative of her actions. Evidence was previewed - testimonies of traumatized prisoners, legal statutes regarding unauthorized punishment methods, and a damning paper trail leading directly to Alice. His words hung heavy in the air, painting a bleak picture of Alice's conduct.
In contrast, her defense lawyer put forth a passionate argument about her intentions. Alice was presented as a brilliant mind that had aimed to solve a pervasive problem. The Everbind was showcased not as a cruel tool of punishment, but as a revolutionary solution designed to maintain societal order. Alice, he argued, had merely taken the steps necessary for the betterment of society, even if those steps were now deemed too extreme.
The tense air in the courtroom grew heavier as the prosecutor introduced his first witness. The man who stepped forward was hardened and embittered, his eyes gleaming with an unyielding fury. He was a former inmate, a man who had been subjected to the cruel, relentless torment of the Everbind as a test subject.
"Mr. Stanton," began the prosecutor, his voice crisp and clear, echoing in the stillness, "Can you please describe the Everbind for us?"
Stanton's glare flicked momentarily towards Alice. "It's like wearing your own personal prison. Metal collar, cuffs, and a belt. The collar brands you, the cuffs control you."
"And the belt?" the prosecutor coaxed, encouraging the testimony to tread into the uncomfortable territory.
With a grimace and a tense pause, Stanton continued, "It... it encircles you... fully. Targets your... your manhood, providing constant, relentless stimulation. Non-stop."
Silence enveloped the room, a heavy weight pressing down on each listener as they processed his words. Then, with a hint of a smirk, the prosecutor posed a seemingly light-hearted question, "But Mr. Stanton, to some that might sound like a... rather pleasurable experience. Why is this a bad thing?"
Stanton's face contorted, his eyes flashing with deep-seated resentment. "It's not just stimulation, it's... it's denial. It gets you close... very close... and then... nothing. It backs off, denying you. At first, it... it wasn't bad. Even enjoyable. But then... it becomes hell. An endless cycle of being brought to the edge and then... nothing. It doesn't stop. It never stops."
His final words hung heavily in the charged atmosphere of the courtroom. His account, one of endless denial and relentless stimulation, filled the room with palpable unease. As Stanton was dismissed from the stand, his burning, accusatory gaze remained locked on Alice, the creator of the Everbind. Amid the impact of Stanton's testimony, Alice sat still, her face a mask of icy composure, bearing the brunt of the reality of her invention being laid bare.
The weight of the courtroom shifted subtly as the prosecutor outlined the legal boundaries that Alice's creation had allegedly crossed. His voice echoed starkly, a clear and relentless drum of accusations. "The Penal Code explicitly forbids any form of torture not sanctioned by the government. Deploying such methods without consent, without oversight, is a violation of prisoner rights."
His statement, emphatic and cold, hung in the air, resonating in the silence that followed. The magnitude of the accusation was clear - Alice had not merely innovated; she had violated a fundamental societal boundary.
As the prosecutor took his seat, Alice's lawyer rose to mount the defense. He spoke with conviction, outlining the necessity of the Everbind in managing a crisis of prison overcrowding. He emphasized its innovative nature and the potential it held to revolutionize punitive measures. His arguments were impassioned and well-articulated, but fell short in rebutting the undeniable point - the Everbind had been used on the unwilling without legal approval.
Meanwhile, Alice sat, her gaze unwavering, her thoughts a chaotic flurry. She remembered the tireless hours spent in designing the Everbind, the elation of each breakthrough, the crushing weight of each setback. She had been driven by ambition, by a desire to create a solution. It was a tool of punishment - of course it would inflict pain. In her mind, the prisoners deserved what they got.
Her eyes flicked toward the press, the cameras, and the spectators. She was uncomfortably aware of her prison garb and the restraints she currently wore. She felt a flush of embarrassment, a feeling of indignation. Why should she be embarrassed? She was not the criminal in the room. The irony was not lost on her.
Finally, her thoughts strayed to her fiancé, whom she had not seen since her arrest two months ago. He had not come to the trial. Why hadn't he? Did he believe her to be guilty? Or was it the stigma of being associated with her, the creator of the infamous Everbind? The thought lingered, a bitter sting amidst the turmoil. As the defense wound down, Alice sat, unrepentant, defiant, her resolve steeled against the tide of public sentiment that surged against her.
With her handcuffed hands secured behind her back, Alice was led from the courtroom's hotbed of murmurs and whispers into the cold sterility of the corridor. She was taken to a holding area that was more a cage than a room, its bare steel bars a stark gray against the pallid walls.
The cage, a cramped five-by-five-foot enclosure with a hard concrete floor, housed a single feature: a metal collar bolted to the wall. The officer, his face unreadable, led Alice into the cage, fastening the collar around her neck. The rattle of the chains echoed ominously in the silent room. Her handcuffs were left intact; the collar was just another layer of restraint.
A female guard, broad-shouldered and stern-faced, approached with a tray. The aroma of overcooked vegetables and under-seasoned meat wafted from the unappetizing lump of food on the plate. The spit mask was removed from Alice's face, her mouth now free but her hands still securely fastened behind her. The guard began the task of hand-feeding Alice, an inherently humiliating process made even more so by Alice's biting remarks.
The guard remained stonily silent, enduring Alice's barbs. When Alice suggested the guard eat the dismal meal herself, the guard responded with a deliberate smear of mashed potatoes across Alice's face. The petty action was almost more degrading than the handcuffs or the collar, leaving Alice with a trail of cold, lumpy mash on her cheek and no way to remove it.
Waiting for the verdict twisted time. Alice's lawyer had cautioned that a long deliberation was a good sign, indicative of a split decision. But when the officer returned after what seemed like an alarmingly short time, Alice's heart sank. A short deliberation likely meant a unanimous verdict, and in her case, that wasn't likely to be in her favor. As she was led back towards the courtroom, the taste of the terrible meal still lingering in her mouth, Alice prepared herself for the worst.
Alice's return to the courtroom was marked by an unkind smattering of laughter. The residue of her lunch was now spread across her face, mashed into the clear spit mask she wore. Embarrassment flared in her cheeks, but she held her head high, refusing to give the spectators the satisfaction of seeing her break.
Through the blur of faces, Alice spotted her fiance. His face was a stony mask, his eyes devoid of any warmth or reassurance. He looked uncomfortable, even distressed, but he did not meet Alice's eyes. She swallowed hard, a sudden pang of loneliness striking her.
The gavel rang out, silence descending swiftly. The judge, an older man with an imposing presence, called the court back into session. The jury foreman, a middle-aged woman with a sympathetic look, stood to read the verdict. Alice felt her heartbeat quicken, each count she was found guilty of felt like another nail in her coffin. By the time the foreman reached the final count, Alice’s world had narrowed down to that one damning word repeated forty-one times: Guilty.
Without a moment's pause, the judge made his proclamation, "In light of the crimes committed, and under the newly enacted legislation permitting immediate sentencing into an Everbind, I hereby sentence you, Alice, to a lifetime under the effect of an Everbind, set to maximum."
The words crashed into Alice like a tidal wave. The Everbind at maximum - it was something she had never envisioned for long-term use. It was intended as an ultimate deterrent, a punishment too severe for even the most hardened criminal to endure for more than a week. Now, it was to be her reality. The harsh reality struck Alice like a bolt of lightning. She imagined the ceaseless torment she was about to be subjected to, the relentless arousal and denial, the electrical torment.
The last orgasm she'd ever had, she now realized, was already a part of her past. It was in her cell, a stolen moment of pleasure with a fellow inmate - a moment that had felt daring and dangerous at the time but was now tinged with the bitter realization that it would be the last of its kind.
Both of them had been shackled, the standard protocol of the penal system, their handcuffs and leg irons clinking softly as they maneuvered within the confines of their small dark cell. Alice recalled the nervous excitement that had fueled their encounter, the thrill of forbidden intimacy in a world that seemed determined to strip them of any semblance of pleasure or humanity. They'd found a way to turn their restraints into a bizarre game of closeness and distance, an exploration of touch that was tantalizing in its limitations.
There was an urgency in their encounter, a raw hunger driven as much by the harsh reality of their circumstances as by any inherent attraction. She remembered the furtive whispers, the stolen glances, and the way her heart pounded in her chest as they pushed the boundaries of their imprisonment. The climax, when it came, was as much a release of pent-up frustration and fear as it was a moment of physical pleasure.
Her melancholic reverie was abruptly interrupted as she heard the judge address her fiancé. His words cut through her like a sharp knife, each syllable twisting deeper into her heart.
"Sir," the judge began, his voice stern yet respectful, "Once Alice has been fitted with the Everbind, can she be released into your care?"
Her fiancé's answer came without hesitation, cold and firm. "No, Your Honor. I cannot accept a criminal into my home, and I won't marry a woman who cannot fulfill her wifely duties." His words echoed through the silent courtroom, the finality of his decision reverberating within Alice. Her last shred of hope, the last flicker of her old life, was extinguished.
The judge nodded solemnly, his gaze expressing a measure of sympathy, but it was laced with the harsh reality of the law. "That is a wise decision, young man. We accept your choice." He turned his attention back to Alice, his voice echoing across the courtroom. "In light of this, Alice will be remanded to a halfway house following the fitting of the Everbind."
The gavel rang out, the sound of wood against wood signaling the end of Alice's old life and the beginning of a new, terrifying existence. She was no longer Alice the scientist, the innovator, the fiancée. She was Alice the condemned, wearer of Everbind, prisoner of her creation.
Alice was roughly led out of the courtroom, her heart pounding in her chest as they approached a door labeled "Everbind Fitting Wing". Her blood ran cold. She knew what lay behind that door, the sterile, clinical room that was soon to be her personal hell.
As she was escorted into the room, she saw a collar hanging from a chain against a stark white wall, mirrored walls on the other sides, and a table filled with instruments of measurement. A guard attached the collar around her neck, chaining her to the wall. "Don't even think about trying anything," the guard warned her gruffly, her face impassive. Firmly attached to the wall, the guard fished out his keys and removed Alice’s cuffs, belt, and leg shackles.
A fleeting thought of escape fluttered through Alice's mind, but she pushed it away. There was no escape. The reality of the situation hit her like a sledgehammer.
The cold, emotionless hands of the guard stripped Alice of her prison jumpsuit, her body bared to the sterile room. Once stripped, she found her wrists being re-cuffed, chains stretching from her wrists to a point on the ceiling. The collar was removed so the chains could be drawn tight, pulling her arms up and making her stand on her tiptoes in the center of the room. She was left in this exposed and vulnerable position, her body strung up like a marionette. She shuffled in place, trying to find if there was any comfort, but she quickly found that not moving at all was the best she could do.
A male technician entered the room, holding a clipboard and an assortment of measuring tools. He ignored her plight, his gaze clinical and detached as he set to work. His gloved hands and tape roved her body, a cold, impersonal touch that amplified her sense of exposure. His attention was particularly focused on her breasts and hips, his measuring tape encircling them, taking exact measurements of her most intimate dimensions.
Alice was in good shape, her body honed by workouts both before and after her incarceration, along with a strict diet. Her breasts, modestly sized but firm, were subjected to the impersonal touch of the technician. His cold, detached professionalism served only to amplify the degradation she was experiencing.
Moving to her hips, the technician’s hands traced the curvaceous line of her figure, taking note of the measurements before moving on to the next phase of the assessment. As he prepared the pre-made dildos of varying sizes, Alice’s face flushed crimson, her teeth grinding together in humiliation.
Despite the embarrassment, an odd memory bubbled up in her mind. She remembered a time, years ago, during the initial development phase of the Everbind, when she had taken these same silicone models home to test their size and fit. She had ended up using them for a more pleasurable purpose, indulging in a solitary session of self-pleasure. Even in her current predicament, she couldn't help but remember the pleasure they'd brought her then. It was a memory far removed from her current reality.
The examination progressed and soon enough, the technician found the size that fit her perfectly. The irony wasn’t lost on Alice, knowing that these tools of pleasure she'd once enjoyed were now to be her tools of torment.
After the initial measurements, the technician's role took an even more intimate turn. He explained that the Everbind needed to fit perfectly, not only in her natural state but also when she was aroused. It was an essential part of the design, to ensure its effectiveness, and Alice knew it. She had devised this part of the process, fully aware of the importance of a perfect fit, but experiencing it personally was a whole different reality.
His hands moved to her breasts, massaging them gently at first, then tweaking her nipples until they were hard and taut. Alice squirmed, her breath hitching as a reluctant heat began to build within her. It felt wrong, so wrong to be aroused under such circumstances, yet her body betrayed her.
The technician then moved his hand lower, his fingers skillfully bringing her to a state of arousal. She bit back a moan, her cheeks burning with shame. She was naked, restrained, and being fondled by a technician - all under the pretense of 'getting the correct fit'. It was humiliating.
Alice's mind waged war against her body, her thoughts fluttering frantically as she tried to detach herself from the all-too-real sensations coursing through her. She knew that if she allowed herself to become fully aroused, the measurements would be even more accurate, making the Everbind's effect more powerful, more inescapable. She tried to think of anything else – tax codes, technical manuals, the cold equations of physics – anything to thwart the growing arousal. Yet her body seemed to have a will of its own, responding to the practiced touch of the technician, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath quickening. Despite her best efforts to resist, Alice felt her body betraying her, succumbing to the forced stimulation,
The technician returned his focus to his clipboard, his face impassive as he adjusted the measurements of her now sensitive nipples, breasts, and the aroused bud of her clitoris. Once he was satisfied, he packed his equipment, gave one last glance to the bound woman, and exited the room.
Alice was left alone, her body still humming from the forced arousal, her position unchanged. The cold, sterile room seemed to echo her vulnerability. Bound and spreadeagle on the table, she was left to process the humiliation and the dread of what was to come. Alice was now on the precipice of a new reality, a life sentence in the Everbind, her creation. She had nothing to do but wait for the inevitable.
Alice could well guess what was happening on the other side of the wall. She envisioned the technician, now with all of her intimate measurements, carefully entering the data into a highly specialized computer. The machine hummed and whirred, its sole purpose to create the personalized components of the Everbind. 3D metal printers, multiple units working in tandem, churned out the perfect-sized bands and restraints that would soon become her inescapable attire.
She imagined the technician meticulously inserting electronic components into the newly printed casings. His gloved hands carefully fed the miniature wires and circuits into their designated slots, the meticulous dance of technology and perversion. It was a process she knew all too well, a process she'd overseen and refined numerous times, now so hauntingly against her.
Reality broke her thoughts as the door to the room creaked open. The technician returned, pushing a small cart before him. The pieces of the Everbind sat on the cart, each one a testament to her creativity-created nightmare. The items gleamed ominously under the harsh fluorescent lights – a collar, cuffs, and the pieces that would form the chastity bra and belt.
The collar was first. The band was silver and sleek, with no visible lock mechanism. Instead, as the technician brought it closer, she could see the permanent clasp. Two small holes were drilled into one end, and two miniature pins protruded from the other. Once clipped together, the pins would snap into the holes, forming an unbreakable seal. Alice's breath hitched as the collar clicked shut around her neck, her punishment, her creation, now permanently affixed to her.
Designed to be a visible statement of her status, the collar was contoured to her neck, curving inwards towards the base to closely hug her throat. It was wide enough to restrict her ability to tilt her head downwards, an intentional design that served a dual purpose. Not only would this serve as a constant reminder to Alice herself, but it also made it nearly impossible for her to hide the collar under any clothing.
The collar bore an etched text on its exterior, rendered in an authoritative and harshly utilitarian font that was intended to be read with ease by anyone who encountered Alice. The words "Everbind - Lifelong Prisoner - Maximum Sentence" were chillingly permanent, a concise and unignorable testament to her predicament.
In addition to the proclamation of her status, the collar was also embedded with two distinct markers. First was an alphanumeric code, laser-etched below the grim statement. This was Alice's unique prisoner identifier, a code that would link her to all her data within the prison system.
But more disconcerting was the brightly colored QR code repeated four times around the collar. This code, when scanned, would give anyone access to a simple interface via their smartphone or any other device with an internet connection. While her sexual torment, set to maximum, was unmodifiable, the interface allowed an additional level of control. It was as if the collar was declaring, "Yes, she is a prisoner, she is sentenced for life, and yes, you can punish her too."
The options available on the interface were horrifying in their implications. Not only could people administer shocks of varying intensity, but they could also influence her emotions and thoughts. The collar, linked directly to her brain stem, was capable of manipulating her feelings, inducing fear, anxiety, despair, and even a disturbing sense of compliance. It was an unprecedented level of intrusion, a violation of her own mind that Alice had not contemplated when she had first conceived the Everbind.
The implications of the QR code were terrifying. This gave anyone the ability to take part in her punishment, no matter where she was. As long as she was visible, Alice was vulnerable. The public, her former friends, and even random strangers now held a degree of power over her. The collar, a symbol of her punishment, was also an invitation to partake in her torment. She was not just the state's prisoner; she had become a prisoner of society as well.
Next, the technician picked up a handheld device and began to sync it with the collar. The collar, despite its harsh exterior, housed an intricate network of circuits that interfaced directly with her spinal nerves. Alice felt a strange sensation, like tiny electrical currents, mapping out her body, familiarizing themselves with her neural pathways. It was an odd, slightly ticklish feeling, causing her to reflexively squirm in her restraints.
The initiation of the shock test sent an unexpected jolt through Alice's body. At its lowest setting, the surprise of the electric pulse momentarily stole her breath away, but it was more surprising than painful. Still, a sense of impending dread began to creep over her as she anticipated what was to come.
The technician, methodical and impersonal, increased the power. A second shock coursed through her, this time a tangible sting that made her wince. Her muscles involuntarily clenched, the unexpected pain biting into her awareness.
Gradually, the shocks escalated, each one more severe than the last. Alice's breath hitched with each jolt, the pain gnawing at her senses. She could feel her body tensing in anticipation, the knowledge of impending pain making her increasingly anxious.
When the technician reached the highest setting, the world turned into a searing mass of pain. The shock was debilitating, a brutal current of electricity coursing through her body, rooting her in place. Alice screamed, her voice echoing against the sterile walls of the room.
She could feel her muscles contracting uncontrollably, her body arching in a futile attempt to escape the torment. Her legs gave out and she hung momentarily from the wrist cuffs. Sharp edges dug into her wrists but the signals of pain sent to her brain were minor compared to the electrical torment. The intense pain made coherent thought impossible, reducing her world to the blinding pain and her desperate need for it to stop.
When the shock ceased, Alice was left panting heavily, a thin sheen of sweat coating her skin. She slumped against her restraints, utterly spent. The experience was beyond anything she had expected, the pain far more severe than she had imagined when designing the device. The icy dread that had been settling in her stomach turned into a profound terror. This, she realized, was only the beginning. And this was a fate she had orchestrated for herself.
A vivid memory suddenly struck Alice. She was back in the lab, her eyes wide with enthusiasm as she explained the primary concept of the Everbind to potential investors. She had talked about the system's design, its effectiveness in inflicting sexual denial and frustration as a form of punishment. She had been confident that the torture of unfulfilled desire would be enough, but one investor had suggested otherwise.
He was a stern man with a grim face and hard eyes. His suggestion had come as a surprise. "You're forgetting one thing," he had said in a deep, resonating voice. "The people who buy this sort of device aren't just looking for efficient control. They want a certain...cruelty. A method to inflict real physical pain."
Alice had hesitated, unsure. But the man had been persistent. He had painted a picture of a world where corrections departments were run by individuals who derived a perverse satisfaction from the ability to inflict immediate and undeniable pain. The concept was cruel, but Alice couldn't deny its chilling effectiveness.
So, the shock feature was included.
The technician then moved on to the wrist and ankle cuffs, each one a sleek piece of engineering that was deceptively durable. They were designed to fit snugly, not unlike a wide wristwatch, and were affixed to Alice's limbs with the same permanent, irremovable mechanism that had been used for her collar. The finality of the click as they closed around her wrists and ankles sent a shiver through Alice's spine.
Each cuff bore its distinct label and QR code, just like the collar. These would allow the public access to her restraints, and this terrifying realization made her breath hitch in her throat.
The cuffs were equipped with an array of sensors and miniaturized electronics, all wirelessly linked to the collar. This intricate network allowed the collar to continuously monitor the location of Alice's limbs in relation to her body, essentially providing it with full spatial awareness of her movements.
What followed was a demonstration of the system's capabilities. At the technician's command, Alice's body was wracked with a sharp jolt of electricity, a swift, painful punishment for her failure to adopt an upright stance as dictated by the system. In this way, the system could "enforce" specific postures, not by physically moving her, but by incapacitating her with agonizing shocks until she complied.
The public, through the QR code, could also command her posture or administer shocks. For the average prisoner, the public's control would be severely limited, but Alice's sentence dictated that she be subjected to the maximum setting. This meant that every feature of the system would be available to anyone who wished to exert control over her. Alice was not only losing control of her body; she was surrendering it to the whims of the world at large.
Alice was forcibly pulled back to reality when the technician came forward with the chastity bra. Its design was starkly clinical – two metal cups connected by a wide band, with hefty straps arching over the shoulder areas and two hanging down on the sides. As he approached, Alice had a final glimpse of her breasts in the mirror across the room, her gaze lingering on what she considered her best physical feature. There was an undeniable pang of loss as she realized she was seeing them, truly seeing them, for the last time.
The chastity bra was a sophisticated construct, and Alice remembered with a certain bitter irony how difficult it had been to design. Achieving a perfect fit had been one of the most challenging aspects of its development. Now, as the technician tightened the band around her, Alice was acutely aware of the unforgiving contours of the bra. It was rigid and unyielding – a constant, uncomfortable reminder of its presence. The two loose straps hanging on the sides, which would soon be connected to her belt, further ensured that the bra was a permanent fixture.
Once fitted, the technician began to calibrate its settings. The first sensation Alice felt was an incredible one, the bra expertly mimicking the sensation of a pair of lips latched onto her nipples, sucking and nipping. It was so eerily accurate that Alice couldn’t help but gasp, a shiver running down her spine as pleasure surged through her. Yet as soon as she started getting used to the sensation, it was taken away.
Instead of tightening, the bra loosened its grip, and a void took its place. Her breasts felt as if they were floating in nothingness, untouched, unstimulated. This, too, was a peculiar form of torture – the sudden denial of sensation, the abrupt emptiness where pleasure had just been.
The technician fetched the final device, the chastity belt. It was a constricting band of polished metal, designed to fit snugly around the slimmest part of her waist. At its center, a wider crotch band descended to cover her sex. This band narrowed at the back, threading between her legs before locking securely onto the waistband again at the rear.
Prominently attached to the crotch band were two phallic protrusions, each designed with painstaking precision. The front dildo was of moderate length and girth, shaped to ensure maximum contact with Alice’s sensitive areas. The rear dildo, meanwhile, was hollow. It was shaped to permit bowel movements while simultaneously preventing any kind of penetration.
The sight of these items struck Alice with a profound sense of finality. As the technician began applying lubricant to the dildos, the reality of her situation began to sink in. This would be the last time she would feel any form of penetration that was not a part of this chastity belt. The very thought was terrifying and humbling.
With professional precision, the technician aligned the chastity belt, guiding the front dildo into her vagina and the hollow dildo into her rectum. Alice’s body protested initially, but she was unable to resist the inevitable intrusion. The cold, unyielding metal pushed into her, leaving her with a sense of fullness that was distinctly unnatural.
With the dildos in place, the technician pulled the waistband taut around Alice’s slender waist, ensuring a tight, secure fit. The belt now hugged her body, a constant reminder of the imprisonment of her most intimate areas. The belt bit into her waist above her hips, designed to be inescapable, not necessarily comfortable. The permanent reality of her situation washed over her, leaving Alice feeling more trapped and vulnerable than ever before.
With the chastity belt fitted securely to her body, the technician proceeded to engage the permanent locking mechanism. The cold steel clicked into place with an air of finality, each snap echoing in the stark room, a chilling reminder of Alice's predicament. The chastity devices were outfitted with anti-tampering technology; if she were to attempt to remove or cut them, they would shift into the highest shock mode immediately and continuously, providing an excruciatingly painful deterrent. Furthermore, the devices would instantly send a wireless distress signal to law enforcement. Alice was hopelessly aware that the devices were perfectly designed to be inescapable. After all, she was the architect of this ingenious system.
With a few key presses on his handheld programming device, the technician brought the belt to life. Alice's breath hitched as the dildos inside her began to vibrate subtly. It was a sensation she was familiar with from her work on the Everbind, but feeling it now, knowing that it was a punishment and not a pleasure, was vastly different. The sensations ramped up slowly, teasing her unmercifully. It felt as though an invisible hand was touching her, the phallus inside her moving slightly, mimicking a real man, and a delicate finger circling her clit.
The buildup of pleasure was slow and calculated, pushing Alice to the brink of orgasm. She found herself panting and sweating, the tension mounting inside her. And just when she thought she might climax, the pleasure abruptly stopped, leaving her on the edge, unsatisfied, panting. It was a tantalizing taste of what her life would be like from now on.
Then came the test of the belt's shock feature. Without warning, a surge of electricity shot through Alice's body. It radiated from the belt's attachments, a sharp and unexpected pain that was far more intense than she'd anticipated. The shocks seemed to originate from the dildos inside her and from her clit, causing her to cry out involuntarily. The pain was unbearable, somehow worse than the previous shocks. Again she hung in her cuffs, overwhelmed by the pain.
The technician's voice echoed in the sterile room, reciting a one size fits all script that Alice knew all too well. His words were clinical and detached, a stark contrast to the profoundly personal implications for Alice.
"Ms. Merton," he began, "you have been fitted with the Everbind punitive device as a humane alternative to traditional incarceration. You will be wearing this device for the duration of your sentence."
He paused, briefly, to glance at the console displaying Alice's settings. She knew there would be no relief for her. The technician continued, his voice monotone.
"This device operates on multiple settings and can be adjusted as required. It is capable of inflicting punishment through sexual denial, electrical shocks, and positional manipulation. It is designed to be inescapable; any attempts to remove or tamper with the device will result in immediate electrical punishment, and local law enforcement will be alerted."
The technician's gaze dropped back to his script, his eyes glossing over words Alice had once typed herself. "The devices are powered by your movement and require no external charging. You are advised to inject water into the cleaning ports on the bra and belt periodically to maintain skin hygiene beneath the devices."
Alice knew what the next line was. Now she thought she had written it carelessly, not considering anyone who received a sentence like hers. "Upon the conclusion of your sentence, you may return to this court to have the Everbind devices removed."
At the last line, Alice could no longer hold back the tears that welled up in her eyes. The overwhelming realization of what her life was to be from now on finally broke through the last of her resolve. Hot, desperate tears flowed down her cheeks, smearing the dried remains of her lunch across her face. The humiliation and despair were almost too much to bear. Her body was wracked with sobs, her cries echoing off the cold, sterile walls of the fitting room. Alice was lost to the reality of her punishment, a punishment that she had designed.