It was another night of kinky roleplay for Zoe and Jennifer, pretty twenty five year olds. They had been friends since school, and had discovered their kinky side some time ago whilst having one too many drinks. What started out as friendship turned into a relationship.
This particular roleplay revolved around playing prisoner and warden. Zoe, always the submissive, loved being locked away. They had a small basement in their house which had a lockable door at the top of the stairs. It had several bolts. There were no windows and just a single fluorescent light that could be turned on and off from the outside only. They’d removed everything from the basement except for a single metal frame bed and they’d arranged for a sink and toilet to be installed.
It started out with short sessions, with Jennifer locking Zoe in the basement for an hour or two. Zoe loved the feeling that someone else held the keys to her freedom. The time in the basement increased and so did the bondage. First handcuffs, then straightjackets – then they bought proper prison attire including orange jumpsuits. The nature of the imprisonment slowly changed over time. Eventually Zoe would take time off work for a week or two so that Jennifer could ‘sentence’ her for various crimes. Depending on the crime the imprisonment was adjusted. Once she had been ‘sentenced’ for stealing, so she was kept handcuffed for a weekend. Another time she had pleaded insanity, and had been forced to wear a straitjacket for a long weekend. The punishments fitted the theoretical crimes.
Fulfilling Zoe’s fantasies meant that Jennifer saw less and less of her. She loved Zoe but it seemed to her that Zoe loved being locked up in isolation more. What started as a bit of fun the two of them could enjoy had turned into more of a chore. When Zoe was locked up, Jennifer would sometimes go out for the day to meet other girlfriends which as time went on turned into Jennifer cheating on Zoe, unknown to her.
One time, at Jennifer’s suggestion, Zoe had been sentenced to a week of strict imprisonment in complete isolation. Jennifer left enough food with Zoe for the week and set a timer on the basement light to switch on only for an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening. The rest of the time she would spend in complete darkness. Playing to Zoe’s kinkiness, the food supplied to her was dog food, which was only revealed to her once she had been cuffed and tethered to her bed.
Zoe’s eyes had followed Jennifer as she left the basement to start the week of isolation. Jennifer didn’t bother to look back, just locked the door and flicked the light off. That was the last she saw of her for the week. With just silence, darkness, a bed, a toilet, dog food, water and her own thoughts to entertain her for seven days.
As that week drew on, the sense of isolation and boredom drew in. She had nobody to talk to, nothing to do, nothing to look at. She could play with herself, which was a near constant distraction for the week she was isolated, but even that she wished someone else would control. How could she take this further?
After the week, Jennifer opened the basement and unlocked Zoe from the tether to the bed and took her handcuffs off. Zoe thoroughly enjoyed her time in the basement and wished it could be more realistic, even long term. Jennifer knew about this secret fantasy and the pair both felt it was time to have a chat.
“It’s still not enough Jennifer," said Zoe.
Jennifer felt that the imprisonment game had run its course and didn’t really want to play it any more.
“You’re losing yourself in a fantasy, Zo, I never see you and whilst you know I love you and have been happy to indulge, I think enough is enough. You might as well do a real crime and get yourself locked up! To me it would be the same result – I’d be without you for a long time and perhaps it would be fairer to me to be able to find someone who wants to be with me.”
Zoe looked hurt; she loved Jennifer but hadn’t considered this fantasy of hers was having such a knock on for Jennifer.
Jennifer continued, “Look, if you want to continue this, then I’m not sure we can continue as a couple; if you want to throw your life away in the basement then how about you do that, I’ll keep you down there, but expect that I would want to find another lover. Perhaps we could both be wardens."
Zoe didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t really what she had expected. Zoe apologised to Jennifer and suggested they take a break from the prisoner fantasy for a while to try and fix their relationship.
A few months passed and things improved, though Zoe couldn’t stop thinking of the basement. She had even started fantasising about mental institutions, being not just imprisoned, but strapped to a bed, in a padded cell, unable to do anything for herself. She was indulging her fantasies by reading forums and came across a curious post.
‘What do you guys make of this prison swap that is being trialled?’
Zoe opened the thread and read with a look of disbelief. The poster had copied the article in question to the thread and summarised it:
‘In a bid to shake up the prison system, and see fewer lives wasted languishing on sentences, the government has decided to trial the idea of prisoners being able to ‘share’ their sentence with another willing party. The premise of prison is that the perpetrator of a crime receives suitable punishment as payback for their misdemeanour. Research conducted by the prison service indicates that people who have suffered the impact of a crime don’t care who serves the time, as long as someone does. On that basis, the government proposes that anyone can offer to fulfil a sentence on behalf of a prisoner, and this could be on a short term (couple of days), medium term (part of the sentence) or long term (the full sentence) basis. The prisoner will receive freedom and the willing party will serve their sentence. The willing party essentially becomes the ‘bond’ for the sentence. If the prisoner does not fulfil their agreement to return to prison after the agreed time, the willing party will by default have to serve the remaining term. For example this could be due to the death of the prisoner, the prisoner absconding, or the prisoner becoming too ill to return to prison. The government expects that takeup of the service will be limited to a few exceptions; however those who do take part are expected to be friends and family, allowing their loved one time to enjoy life outside of prison. The scope of these new rules apply to prisons and mental institutions; in the case of the latter, the prisoner being released must have family who will commit to helping them in the outside world. It should be noted that there is a high risk that prisoners who have been imprisoned on mental health grounds may be unfit to return to complete their sentence under the above rules. For more information contact us through our website.’
Zoe was staring at the screen. She was looking at the possibility of being able to live out her deepest fantasy and all without committing a crime or causing Jennifer to have to participate. She could move on... Zoe went to the website in the post and spent a couple of hours reading in great detail how the scheme worked. She found some more detail that sold it to her.
‘In order to maintain fairness to the victim of the crime, the willing party will be subject to the exact same treatment and care based on the character, personality, and traits of the prisoner they are swapping with. The sentence will continue on the assumption of completing the full sentence. A ‘harmless’ willing party will not find early release or softer treatment for good behaviour to be an option. All rights to ‘early release’ or sentence reduction are forfeited. There will be no retrials or options to contest the sentence, as the willing party. Should the crime for which the prisoner was tried be proven to have been undertaken by someone else, your agreement shall remain in force. In this situation, the newly tried criminal shall remain a free citizen until your agreement elapses. In the case of agreeing to cover the balance of a sentence, the newly tried criminal shall remain free at your expense.
The willing party will not be able to receive visitors other than those who would be allowed to visit the prisoner (e.g. family or friends of the prisoner). If you are unrelated to the prisoner, you will not be allowed any visitors.
Behaviour in prison may lead to an increase in sentence or additional loss of rights.
The criminal record, or part thereof, shall transfer from the prisoner to the willing party and will remain in place after release if serving the full term. The prisoner, for the duration of the swap, shall have their criminal record erased, permanently if the willing party is serving the balance of the sentence. This is to ensure that treatment of the willing party remains aligned to the experience a prisoner would have on release (eg. difficulties finding employment, being added to suitable crime registers, restrictions in movements or interaction with the victim or suitable people), in line with the expectations the victim would have.
If a prisoner who is swapped commits a further crime, whether petty or serious, there is the option for the willing party to offer to cover this risk, too, by allowing subsequent sentences to be added on, keeping the prisoner free. Once agreed to this cannot be changed.’
Zoe was getting wet reading these details. In essence, she could fill her fantasy, and nobody could stop her. If she picked the right option, she could spend years in prison for a crime she didn’t commit. If it was serious enough or the right type of crime or plea, she could find herself in prison and bound for her own and everyone else's protection. Someone else would get a second chance to live their life. She would be their saviour. She would get to live her life how she wanted. And she wouldn’t have to answer to anyone else – as she wouldn’t be allowed visitors. She wouldn’t have to deal with any of that emotional baggage. She could sign up, swap, and forget her old life.
Zoe completed the enquiry form on the website. It was a simple form and didn’t seem to care about the reasons. It all seemed very matter of fact, a simple transaction, agreement to some terms, and that was it. Zoe had asked whether it was possible to view prisoners and their surroundings in order to choose a swap. She waited with bated breath.
The next few days were agony as she waited for her reply. Eventually an email popped up inviting her to speak to a representative of the scheme. She made her appointment and rubbed her hands together with excitement.
Zoe dressed in a smart outfit and aimed to come across well. She had arrived at a government building, big and imposing, with a large sign outside reading “Government Justice Department." She was to meet Mr Jones. She walked into the reception and asked to speak with him. Zoe was shown to his office and offered a drink.
Jones began. “Please, sit down Miss...?”
Zoe replied, “Just Zoe will do, Mr Jones."
Jones continued, “So, we have a range of options as you will have gathered. We don’t tend to ask ‘why’ as people have a range of reasons for becoming the willing party. I presume you have some questions for me? Though I do wonder why a young well-to-do lady such as yourself would put herself through such an experience”
Zoe swallowed, “Yes, I have one or two questions not covered on your website. As for why... I feel I’ve led a very privileged life, and wanted to give something back.” Zoe knew this was a lie, but it felt like a good excuse. “I wondered, as I’m not planning to swap with anyone I know, how do I know what prison or mental health patients are available to swap with? As part of my giving something back, I’d like to choose a candidate I feel would offer us both... the right experience?”
Jones reached behind him and pulled out a tablet. “This government programme is quite new, and we only have two facilities taking part in what is essentially a trial. The government may pull the plug on the scheme at any time, but for now, it wants to see what happens. We have a broad range of prisoners, from petty theft criminals serving short sentences in a relatively basic prison environment, to violent prisoners who need to be restrained, sometimes sedated, for their own and our staff’s protection. Plus plenty in between. Both genders. As for mental patients, all are committed for a time and due to a crime – usually they plead insanity – but even they range from prisoners who are in a fairly trusted position in an ‘open’ prison, to people so deranged that they spend their entire time in a padded cell, tied up and restrained, medically hooked up to various paraphernalia, practically living life like vegetables.”
“So I could opt for anything in that range?”
Jones nodded, “Quite why anyone would, is beyond me, but yes. Subject to all the terms on the website – the willing party will be subjected to exactly the same treatment. So you, young lady, if (and I’m sure you wouldn’t) you opted to replace a deranged person, they would be freed and you would immediately be tied, bound, drugged, locked up, and left to vegetate. Whilst your swap would be heading out into the world to become a free person.”
“And visitors? I presume there would be none, according to the website?”
“Well actually, there is one clause, the original prisoner may visit you. I think the creator of this scheme had a wicked sense of humour. Imagine – serving time for someone else's crime – and having them come visit you, sharing stories of their new life in the real world. Cruel, eh? That’s not to say they would choose to visit, but it’s an option. You could request it.”
Jones handed Zoe a tablet. “Take this; it contains the current database of prisoners at both facilities, their level of incarceration, crime committed, sentence length and duration served, their age, gender and a picture. See what you think, make a choice, and come back to me when you’ve made a decision."
Zoe took the tablet, her hand shaking a little. Jones noticed this, remarking “It’s a big decision and there’s no way to back out once you commit. Think carefully."
“One last question Mr Jones. Do I get to meet the prisoner to discuss anything beforehand?”
“It can be arranged, if you’d like them to know who has given them their break, your reasons, etc.”
“And what is the minimum swap duration, if I wanted to dip my toe in the water to try this before doing anything more long term?”
“One week minimum. Though do bear in mind that according to the terms, if your swap absconds, dies, or simply chooses not to return, you will be left to complete their sentence. This system is designed more for people who know the prisoners. So girlfriends, mothers, fathers, brothers may do this; there’s an incentive to return. But a complete stranger? They may have no reason to return."
Zoe hadn’t considered that. But why let such a detail ruin an otherwise good plan.
“Thanks for your time Mr Jones. I’ll be in touch soon. How quickly can the swap take place? Does it take weeks?”
“Not weeks. Hours, if you want. It’s a straight swap. If you’re a similar size or same gender, we just give them your clothes and put you into theirs. They leave out the same door you came in, free, as you’re locked away. It’s really that simple."
Zoe shuddered. She had a plan... she was going to pick a prisoner, meet them, and sabotage her chance of escape. Assuming she could find the perfect swap, she wanted to feel as out of control as possible.
Zoe had been making preparations. Her plan was to just ‘disappear’. That way she wouldn’t have to answer any awkward questions from Jennifer. She would leave a note saying she had gone abroad on holiday, and just not return. She had paid for a lookalike to fly out on her passport and return on their own. That way she would just ‘vanish’.
As for who she was going to swap with – she had spent days studying the tablet Jones had given her. She felt like this was an all or nothing endeavour. So she would choose someone who had zero prospects of release for a very long time. There was one inmate at the mental facility who fitted the bill. Someone called Louise Campbell. She had murdered her family due to hearing voices, was suicidal, and had a permanent spot in a padded cell, was kept in a straitjacket, restrained with Segufix, and due to a tendency towards biting prison staff, had to wear a face mask (she wasn’t sure exactly what was behind it). It also seemed that due to her permanent restraints, she had to be fitted with medical devices to help her go to the toilet unaided. Due to hunger strikes, she was force-fed meals in liquid form through the mask and a feeding tube. According to the records she had served five years of a 50 year sentence. So 45 years to go. Zoe was 25, meaning she would be released aged 70. That’s if she had good behaviour. She could spend the best part of her life living her fantasy.
That sounded like heaven to Zoe. Given the precarious mental state of the prisoner if she offered to serve a short sentence, it’s unlikely they would return anyway. So what the hell. Louise was also 25 and a similar build to Zoe. She imagined a straight swap with little fuss, as Jones had described.
She emailed Jones and told him her plans. He arranged for her to swap the next day.
Zoe arrived at Jones’ office at 2pm as agreed. Jones had her sign various bits of paperwork and the deed was now done. No turning back. Jones wondered why she was doing this, but it wasn’t his place to ask. He arranged for a prison van to collect her and take her to the facility.
On arrival the guard led her into the facility and Zoe asked if she could speak with Louise before the swap commenced, as Jones had indicated. The guard nodded and opened up the cell.
“Take as long as you want. You’ll not be leaving here again, so it doesn't matter to us. Louise hasn’t been drugged today as she has been behaving well since she found out yesterday someone was going to work her sentence for her.”
Zoe stood there looking at the prisoner in front of her. What she was to become. She was intoxicated. Laid there was a woman of her build. She was tied up in a straitjacket, which looked to be made of thick rubber, and she seemed to be wearing rubber trousers too. Every limb was tied down tight to the trolley, and out of her trousers snaked the end of a catheter, linked to a urine bag hanging off the trolley. It was half full of dark yellow urine. Her head was encased in a mask and a hood, also rubber, and a feeding tube stuck out.
“I’ll remove her hood and mask so you can talk. Louise, you have your visitor," the guard announced. Louise wriggled to no avail and made barely audible muffled grunting noises.
The guard unbuckled the mask from Louise’s face, which sealed on top of the rubber hood. The mask seemed to include an inbuilt gag. They fiddled with a feeding tube that fed through it and up her nose, but left the tube in place. As the mask was taken away, strings of saliva that had built up inside stretched away, snapping back. The gag dripped with spit. They then slipped the thick rubber hood off her head. Louise takes a deep breath “Ahhh. Fresh air. I’ve had that thing stuck on me for months. She licked her lips, which were wet with saliva, all she could do given she was still immobile. She stretched her jaw and worked it a bit. “I’ve not been able to close my mouth for so long. My jaw feels so numb! So who are you? Are you crazy?” Zoe replied “Hey, I’m Zoe. I’ve enrolled in the prison swap programme. I wanted to give you a chance to live your life over again... by swapping places. I’ll serve the rest of your sentence from now on, and in a few minutes you get to walk out of here with a clean criminal record. I’ve even arranged for my bank balance to go into your name and I’ve left a suitcase full of clothes at reception for you.”
Louise didn’t know what to say. “So you’ve given up your freedom for me? Why?”
“Well, now that I’ve signed the papers, I can be honest with you. I have a huge bondage fetish. I get turned on at the idea of being locked up. And the amount you’re restrained and the length of your sentence... I’d get to enjoy it for the rest of my life. I also looked at other candidates and you looked like the most tragic case. I hope you make the most of your second chance, while I’m locked up in here for the rest of my life. I’ve also signed the contract to say that if you commit any further crimes, they’ll be added to my sentence. I am literally your insurance against ever going back to prison. But I hope you don’t abuse that power... it would be annoying to have to spend even more time here.”
Zoe giggled, only half joking at that last point.
“Please feel free to come back and see me. I’d like to know how you’re getting on with the life I’ve left you. Or don’t. The isolation will be divine; but you’re the only person who will ever be able to visit me. I’d like it if you’d maybe even tease me when you visit.”
Louise nodded, and didn’t really know what to say, other than, “Well, you’ll certain get to live out your fantasy. I for one won’t miss being tied to this trolley for the rest of my life, unable to talk with a mouth full of rubber. Come on then you stupid girl, let's swap places so I can go and have some fun out there in the real world!"
Louise, as if making a point, thrashed around on the trolley she was restrained to desperately trying to escape.
“See, you’ll love it. Can’t move an inch."
Zoe called the guard who returned. He told Zoe to strip naked whilst he unbuckled Louise from her restraints and removed all of the medical devices. He deflated a catheter and pulled that out leaving it to dangle at the bedside. He then deflated some kind of bulb from Louise’s rear, and this came out and similarly dangled from the bedside. Next he removed her straightjacket and put this to one side. There were also various other implements that were removed like a locking steel collar, an electronic ankle identification bracelet, and curiously rubber underpants, socks and gloves.
Zoe laid her clothes on the nearby chair and waited for Louise to be freed.
“Louise, I’d really like it if you’d be the one to restrain me in my new prison. There’s a certain irony to this and it would make me happy."
Louise shrugged, “Sure, hon, whatever floats your boat."
As Louise stood there, she wet herself and dribbled on the floor. "Jesus. I've had a catheter in for five years, I'm leaking everywhere. Warden, have you got anything?" The warden passed her an adult diaper, and she taped this on. "Guess my bladder is wrecked. And my backside doesn't feel so great either."
As the two girls stood there, Louise grabbed Zoe’s underwear and put them on over the thin diaper, followed by her dress and leggings, and finally her boots. They were a perfect fit. “Wow, I’ve not felt normal for years. This is going to be fun. You do know that you’re going to have 35 years of being locked in this dark hole don’t you? And you’re powerless to do anything? You won’t be able to eat, drink, shit or piss unless the guards let you. Half the reason I went more insane than I already was, was because me and the voices in my head had far too much time to come up with ways to piss off the guards. It became more fun to try and get restrained more and more because at least I was getting attention. But eventually they settled on this setup and that was that. I couldn't move an inch. I was no longer able to be a nuisance.”
“That’s fine. I want this."
Louise shook her head, “We’ll see on your 65th birthday if that’s the case – if I haven’t added any more life sentences to your current tally!”
Louise grabbed the rubber underwear that had been hers. “Here, put these on. Should be a good fit." Louise slipped her legs into the underwear and pulled them up high. They slid on and still had some of Louise's fluids on them.
"They're a bit slimy," said Zoe.
"That's because, despite my situation, I used to get very frustrated and horny with my own thoughts for all I had for company. The idea of you taking my place and me robbing you of your freedom was also deliciously arousing." The underwear had holes built in to allow for the catheter and anal plug to go in. Then came the rubber trousers, again sweaty and slick inside from their last owner, again with holes in the right places. They slid on, a perfect fit. Zoe fondled her rubber clad legs and arse, they felt amazing and the smell of rubber wafted up to her.
"Come on now, no time for that," said Louise.
Next up were the rubber gloves and socks, Zoe wondered what these were for. The gloves were more like mittens and were thick rubber.
“They stop you scratching the guards with your nails,” Louise advised. They had a buckle on each wrist and ankle that locked them in place so they couldn’t be removed. Zoe slipped her feet into the socks, again cool and slick from Louise's months of wearing, and buckled them in place extra tight. She wiggled her toes with a smirk on her face. Then she took the gloves, realising her dexterity would be limited from here on in. She slipped her hands into the cool damp mittens. She realised they were gloves on the inside and mittens on the outside. So her fingers were held in place and she couldn't move them around inside. Once she had slipped one onto each hand, she looked to Louise to tighten the buckles. She ran her immobilised mitten hands over her body and as expected could no longer feel the touch of rubber. Zoe sighed.
Louise chirped up. “Right, now you’re 'me', you need an identification tag bracelet on your ankle. If you escape they can bring you right back. Like you'd ever manage that. If they forget who you are, they scan it, and it will come up with your details. My criminal record and history in this prison is now your record, in your name. Look, the tag even has your name and date of birth etched on it and some details! Zoe took the tag and looked it over. Her pussy was dripping holding this tag. It made all the games she had played in the basement become real. She now had a criminal record. She was now government property for the rest of her life. Property of the state, serving her sentence, atoning for 'her' crimes. She could try to be the best prisoner, but she would always have to serve her full term. She could have no leniency. She could never argue her innocence. There could never be any way to change her mind. As far as the records, justice system and wardens were concerned from now onwards, she had committed the crimes.
She read the tag. 'ZOE SMITH. DOB 12 APRIL 1995'. In small writing nearby it also read 'Sedate when not restrained. Guilty of multiple murders. No parole. No retrial. Bites, spits, urinates and defecates. Multiple personalities, paranoid, compulsive liar. Feed twice daily by feeding tube. Medication for mental health problems by injection. Enema twice daily and must be catheterised at all times to prevent soiling. Gag mask must be used at all times to prevent talking, biting and spitting'.
Zoe was in deep. She could feel her juices running into her rubber panties and down inside her rubber trousers.
She took deep breaths. She took her time. This was all psychologically important. She opened the ankle tag, detailing who she was, what she had done, how fucked in the head she was and how she must be treated, and placed it around her ankle. The tag was symbolic. It felt like it was the moment that made all this super real. Slowly, she closed the tag. Time stood still. Then, with a click that made Zoe jump with the finality of it, her fate felt sealed. The ankle bracelet was locked into place. Only a warden could remove it now. She was GPS tagged.
Louise continued. "Right. Now your collar. This has powerful voltage in it which the guard can use to subdue you at whim. Sometimes they activate it even when you’ve done nothing wrong, just because they can. To the security cameras it just looks like I’m acting up as my body convulses. Truth is it’s usually the guards having fun. Give her a shock, Mr Warden.”
“Wait, no!” then she crumpled to the floor and convulsed as searing pain ran through her spine. She blacked out.
When she awoke a few minutes later, she was being placed in the rubber straightjacket and the buckles were being loosely threaded into place, but not yet firmly secured.
“Ah, she’s awake again Warden!” mocked Louise. “Right, time to help you go to the toilet. Please sit still and let me do this, else we’ll have to sedate you, and you’ll miss the deliciousness of what’s about to happen. Wave goodbye to your ability to go to the toilet as normal, and say hello to twice-daily enemas and your bladder constantly emptying into a bag by your trolley. The height of discretion and sophistication for a beautiful, sane young woman, you’ll agree.”
Zoe really did need a wee at this point, as she had had a large soda before arriving, alongside a bit of a last meal at McDonald's. So at least there’d be some relief coming as she hadn't seen any toilets around.
Zoe feigned a smile, and said “Okay, get on with it ...” Louise should have lubricated the catheter but decided not to. She dangled the bright yellow catheter in Zoe’s eyeline. “Right. Wave goodbye to your continence. After 5 years of wearing one of these, it’s reduced my ability to hold my piss pretty much entirely. I’ve already leaked into this diaper, so 35 years of this, you're going to be leaving this place completely incontinent. And if they ever, doubtfully, remove you from here and let you be in a normal prison, you’ll have the joy of pissing yourself in front of the other inmates!”
Louise thought to herself she probably should have asked the wardens for a fresh catheter, but they weren't around this moment and well, what the hell, she was wearing everything else she herself had worn for who knows how long.
She read the number in the catheter. In a previous life she had done some care work, so was aware of how these things worked. It said "CH30." No wonder, she thought, she now couldn't keep her piss in. That was over twice the size of a standard catheter. It was really thick.
What the hell, she thought, and Louise took the tip of the catheter and shoved it into Zoe’s urethra with little warning. She rapidly advanced it until she hit Zoe’s bladder, and then with a little shriek, Zoe's bladder voided into the waiting bag on the side of the table, adding to what was already in there from Louise's earlier incarceration. The catheter balloon was then inflated with a nearby syringe used to deflate the balloon originally.
Zoe saw the piss trickling down the tube into the bag. She'd never worn a catheter before and tried to stop the flow, but no matter how much she tensed her sphincter, the liquid kept flowing. Then she felt her bladder spasm, and an uncontrollable urge to piss overcame her. It took a few moments for the wave of needing to urinate passed. Her bladder felt quite sore. No wonder given the size of the catheter. She couldn't decide if the feeling was pleasure or pain. She'd always enjoyed the feeling of holding her piss to the last moment and this felt quite similar, pain wise, just that she couldn't control it.
Next was the enema plug. Zoe bent over the trolley and offered her waiting hole. Louise, with no bedside manner, shoved the intruder into Zoe’s backside, making her wince, and just as Zoe thought it was done, Louise inflated it until she was begging for them to stop.
“Just for good measure, the perfect fit ...” and Louise pumped up the intruder two further times. Zoe howled.
“You wanted the full experience, hunnybun. This is nothing less than the guards will be doing to you. At least you can’t force it back out, I know because I've tried hard enough over the years, and you won’t leak while holding your regular enemas, which is good for you not having to sit around in your own mess, but that said the guards love to leave the enema inside you for way too long. They once filled me to bursting and didn't bother to empty me for hours. It was hellish. I've had to wear this plug for most of the last five years, now I feel empty without it. It's definitely messed up my hole though, this diaper feels like it's filling already. Great way to start my release."
“Okay now to strap you to the table properly. Don’t want you walking off, ever! You are a murderer after all! Unlike me, who is now squeaky clean! We've got you plugged in your bottom holes, so you can't mess everywhere, something you're apparently well known for doing according to the notes on your tag... you're really quite the dirty little bitch. And you've come in here trying to convince me you're the innocent one swapping places... just as well your tag says otherwise."
Zoe was relishing being mocked.
Louise now tightened up any slack in the straightjacket. Zoe couldn't move her arms. She was then directed to lay on the trolley, having so far been sat on it.
The trolley was heavy duty. Designed to easily transport the patient anywhere easily. It had a rubber covered mattress, raised rubber pillow area, and more anchor points than could possibly be needed.
Louise adjusted the Segufix straps and strapped Zoe to the table tightly, locking everything in place. Feet and ankles, followed by thighs, followed by waist, then chest.
“There we go. Not going anywhere now. Try it."
Zoe wriggled and writhed and was stuck fast to the bed.
Zoe beamed, "Feels perfect. Guess I'm not getting off this trolley on my own!"
Zoe now felt like she really wanted to get into her new part. She started to scream
"Let me out! Let me go! I'm innocent! I didn't murder anyone, I shouldn't be here! It should be you! Why are you doing this to me!" She violently fought against her shackles. She was loving this.
Louise said to Zoe, "Nice try. Which personality is this one? The innocent young girl routine? That'll never wash. You're here for a long time ...."
Moving on, she says, “Okay, now for the hood, gag, feeding tubes, and mask. This will be the last time you’ll be able to speak. Anything you’d like to add?”
Zoe thought. She just said to Louise, “Thank you for swapping with me. It means everything. Now... finish strapping me up good before I bite you, bitch!”
She then built up some spit in her mouth and spat directly in Louise’s face for effect. Zoe didn’t know quite where that had come from, but it felt good playing the part. Louise slapped Zoe across the face for that.
“Right, welcome to the rest of your life, I’m going to enjoy this!" and Louise proceeded to fit a feeding tube to Zoe. She lubricated it and poked it up her nose and fed it down into her stomach, telling Zoe to swallow it down as she went. Zoe gagged a little. Louise secured it in place with some tape.
She wanted to test the feeding tube by grabbing a syringe from a nearby cupboard. Looking around for something to flush into the tube, she saw the urine collection bag. Louise thought that it would be a fitting response to the spit in the face she had just had. She extracted a large syringe full of piss from the bag, a mixture of her and Zoe's piss, then proceeded to use the syringe to feed it to Zoe. Zoe looked on in horror.
"No! Stop! Please don't!"
Too late. The golden liquid was flowing down the tube, through her nose, down her throat and directly into her stomach. Any moment she was convinced she'd taste a bitter taste of piss, but nothing. She could feel a cool feeling in her stomach from the liquid, but couldn't taste anything thankfully. Louise repeated this a few more times until the urine bag was empty. Zoe couldn't do anything, but didn't protest further as she couldn't taste anything, so went with it.
"Thirsty, dirty little bitch aren't you. Belly full of piss, you barely raised an eyebrow!" Louise mocked.
Next, Louise picked up the gag, or possibly mask, she’d worn since she arrived at the facility. She had never been able to handle it herself, it was always inflicted on her. It had a rubbery slightly malleable bit to the middle of it, it filled the entire mouth, and was covered by a panel, with straps that ran under the chin and up and over the head, buckled behind. It was cupped on the front a little.
It was still dripping wet and damp with Laura's saliva.
Zoe complied, and felt the large damp gag enter her mouth. She could taste the aftertaste of Louise’s saliva. It also smelled of dried spit, and she inhaled deeply through her nose, enjoying the scent. Louise buckled the gag tight onto Zoe and made sure that it was as tight as possible. Her mouth was full and her cheeks felt puffed out. Her lips were sealed. Zoe just mumbled inaudibly.
Louise said “What’s that, thank you? You’re welcome."
”Mmmmph!” was all Zoe could manage. She worked her tongue round the intruder in her mouth, again tasting someone else. Strange but erotic. She moaned pleasurably into the gag and let out a huge sigh. She was in heaven.
Next came the hood with two nostril breathing tubes. Louise first poked the tubes into Zoe’s nose, alongside the feeding tube, then proceeded to strap the hood onto Zoe’s head. She leaned into Zoe’s field of vision one last time.
“Here it comes, complete darkness, forever. My face will be one of the last you see for a long time!”
Zoe feigned a struggle, frantically writhing around and screaming into her gag. It felt good.
With that, she covered Zoe’s eyes and secured the rest of the hood. It was thick heavy rubber. It too was still damp from having been on Louise’s head for weeks. Louise tightly buckled the hood in place. Zoe was now breathing through the nasal tubes, the same ones Louise had been using for five years until half an hour ago. She took a deep breath in and exhaled. Louise covered the tubes momentarily and Zoe couldn't breathe. Her mouth was sealed. The nasal tubes were the only way for her to breathe. Suddenly she could breathe again.
"Last couple of things my friend. We need to secure your, or is it my, I'm so confused... head to the table now." Louise grabbed the Segufix and strapped Zoe’s chin and forehead to the table. “Try to look around or move." Zoe couldn’t move an inch. Just her eyes to the left and right, albeit in darkness, and her tongue around the intruder in her mouth, and that was about it. Her breathing was speeding up now as she settled into her new predicament. Her toes barely wiggled. Her fingers couldn't wiggle in their mitten gloves. She could writhe a little, but not much. She couldn't expel the anal intruder. She couldn't start or stop her bladder.
Breathing. That was just about under her control. She could do that. She could think. That was still in her gift. She could hear. Yep.
“I’ll feed you before I go. Warden, have you got her evening meal?” He nodded and passed over a bag of liquid food, a pasty white thick liquid. “You can’t taste it, which is just as well. I’ve just tried it now and it tastes like fishy cum. I’m sure it isn’t. But hopefully it’s full of all the nutrients you need. It kept me alive and well for the last five years. Two bags a day. Four litres of liquid delight. Straight down your feeding tube into your stomach. You don’t even get to chew any more. You’re just a fucking vegetable now! Dumb bitch.”
Zoe’s eyes widened behind her hood. She was right. Whilst all of this had been fantasy material where she could touch herself to orgasm and imagine the situation, now she was in it, it was completely different.
“Another way of looking at it. You’ve just committed yourself to 35 years of drinking cum food twice a day, being zapped by guards until you’re unconscious, being drugged to sleep if you aren’t compliant, and basically, you might as well be a vegetable, sitting there with nutrients going in, waste going out, unable to move, barely able to breathe."
Hmmm, Zoe wasn't entirely bothered about that bit, she had longed for this for so long. The next bit however got her worried.
“And guess what – how do you think you’ll get by with never being able to orgasm again? Your hands are useless. Strapped safely away from your private parts. Just you, the silence of this cell, and the automated hell of being fed and emptied. You just exist.”
Louise then hopped up on Zoe's trolley and straddled her head. She hitched up her skirt and tore off her diaper that had absorbed a fair bit. She said to Zoe "I'm just going to masturbate above your head. Seeing you as I was is turning me on so much. You're so helpless. So useless. And seeing as I haven't orgasmed in five years, and you're never going to orgasm again, I think I'll indulge myself in your plight.”
She started to finger herself right above Zoe's face. She was wet and horny. As she rubbed herself, she not only dripped juices onto Zoe's head, but also her leaking bladder. Quickly she reached orgasm and let out a loud moan and squirted pee and juiced right on Zoe's face. Zoe was breathing through her nasal tubes and could smell the juices and liquids landing on her hood. Some went up her nasal tube and she almost sneezed. Before standing up, Louise rubbed her pussy all over Zoe's hood, covering every inch of her face with a light coating of juices then put her diaper back on.
"Right, I've had enough fun now. I've had my orgasm right on your face, ha-ha. You'll be able to smell it for a while. That's my gift to you. Time to finish feeding you."
Zoe was feeling sad she couldn't touch herself. She really hadn't thought through the orgasms.
Louise hooked up the bag of food to a stand next to Zoe's head. She linked the feeding tube to the bag and the whitish liquid snaked down the clear plastic tube until it appeared to enter her nose. The bag slowly emptied and she couldn't taste anything. A few minutes passed and the bag was empty. She could feel a fullness in her stomach but that was it. The feeding tube was disconnected and plugged and the feeding bag taken away.
"Fucking vegetable, haha. Nearly time for me to go."
Wow, Zoe thought, she was really revelling in telling it how it is! But she couldn’t say anything back as she was gagged. She just moaned into her gag and a tear ran down her face. She started to thrash around, to no effect. She felt herself getting sweaty from the exertion in her rubber clothes and restraints. She howled and screamed into her gag but it was all muffled and nothing intelligible came out.
Louise then leaned in to Zoe's ear and whispered, "How about I get you off for the last time ever?"
She started rubbing Zoe's pussy through the crotch of her rubber pants and rubber trousers. Zoe was heating up. She moaned into her gag. Yes. This was it. This is what she wanted to feel. Helpless. Incarcerated. Cumming. Yes! Keep going. Mmmmphhhhh. Mmmmmph. She started to arch her back, so close now! She was so wet. Through her breathing tubes she was sucking in as much air as she could. In. Out. In. Out. The air whistling through the tubes at the speed of her breathing. Then as suddenly as she'd started, Louise slowed down the rubbing. Then just as Zoe was about to explode, she stopped. She licked Zoe's soaking pussy juice off her fingers and licked her lips.
"Don't want to spoil your stay with an orgasm. That would set high expectations!"
Zoe cried into her gag, this couldn’t be happening, she wanted to cum so badly. She screamed and screamed and writhed and writhed. Her orgasm faded to nothing. She could smell Louise's pussy on her face and it was driving her wild. Fuckkkk!
Louise turned to the guard, “Right, time for me to go and enjoy my new life! See you later, Zoe. Enjoy the torture!” and with that she pressed the zapper and Zoe writhed in agony until she blacked out as her collar sent waves of electric shock through her body.
When Zoe awoke, the room was silent. She heard nearby doors being locked shut. Occasionally she'd hear the sound of a distant scream or shout, likely from other inmates.
What now? Zoe panicked, and thrashed around in her restraints for about 30 minutes, straining against her bonds. It was no use. She was stuck. Should she escape, she’d only reach a locked padded cell door. Should she get beyond that, there were various layers of security that would keep her in. If she got out, her tag would track her. She was, literally, stuck. A vegetable. Unable to touch herself. Unable to orgasm. Unable to do anything at all ever again. Unable to go back to her old life. That now belonged to someone else. She'd traded her freedom for a fantasy. Nobody knew she was here. Well, the government did...
A few hours later having fallen asleep, she awoke to Jones standing above her motionless body.
“Well, Zoe, it seems that Laura’s first action out in the real world was to stab three people then throw herself off a building. She’s now dead. However, as you agreed to accept all her punishments, we expect that you will now be in here for the remainder of your natural life. Unless someone decides to swap with you, I’m afraid you’re here forever. Goodnight Zoe. I hope you sleep well.”
With that, the room went dark and Zoe was left to contemplate the rest of her life, such as it was. Immobilised in rubber. Forever silenced. Then she heard someone in the room, some noises, her stomach filled up, she had been fed. She felt her bowels fill... and empty. She heard the bag beside her bed being emptied and changed. She felt her straps being tightened and adjusted around her. Then a prick in her arm. Ah, the sedation. I wonder when I'll wake up... everything seems to be the same when it's dark. The door slams shut. A lock turns. Footsteps walk away. Her eyes close. She drops out of consciousness slowly and as she does she counts in her head...
Another 60 years... 22,000 more days... 44,000 more tasteless feeds... 44,000 more enemas... 22,000 sedations and doses of antipsychotic drugs for a mental problem I don't have but which the drugs are helping me develop... 240 catheter changes... once every few months... they've not changed my clothes yet, will they? Will I ever see daylight again... will this gag leave my lips... I wish I could taste Louise still... will they clean my intimate areas? Will I ever be able to move... what if my muscles waste away... sleep is coming... it's washing over me... this is everything I ever wanted... sweet bliss... I never want this to end...