The Sarcophagus

The Sarcophagus

author: JG Leathers

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 1

 The sentence she'd received was entirely out of proportion! 

 As an innocent tourist in the mid-East country, she'd thought that her citizenship 
  and passport would protect her from just this sort of thing; but her Government 
  had done virtually nothing to shield her from the local laws, assuming in fact, 
  that she was actually guilty of the 'crime' that she'd been accused of and sentenced 
  for! The trial, if it could be called that, had been of the typical Third World 
  Dictatorship style and Miss Christine Frank now found herself alone in a holding 
  cell, facing 25 years of hard labor for something that she hadn't done. All 
  she'd been was a witness, for Heaven's sake! The local Gestapo had hauled her 
  in with others in the crowd, and being distinctly different than all of the 
  locals who'd been swept up in the dragnet, they'd targeted her for special attention. 
  At eighteen years of age and with a figure that men would kill for, she was 
  obviously on someone's acquisition list. What a fool she'd been, she thought 
  as she sat shivering fearfully in the small, hot, concrete box: her tightly 
  and painfully cuffed wrists held closely at her sides by the cutting girth of 
  a heavy chain around her waist. 

 The guards hadn't been happy with their prisoner security. After the humiliatingly 
  intense body search and before they'd allowed her any coverings, they'd cinched 
  a flat, thick-linked chain firmly around her naked waist, sinking it deeply 
  into the soft flesh of her abdomen, and locked it securely. At points along 
  its length, shiny steel U's were mounted so that when the chain had been made 
  into her belt, they stuck outwards; one at the centre of her back, one over 
  each hip, one at the front and centre, and another two, some three inches to 
  either side of this. At first, she hadn't cared too much about the cinch, but 
  had just flamed with an embarrassed, whole-body flush. After leeringly inspecting 
  her for an endless two minutes, the male guards had at last flung the concealing, 
  long-skirted prison dress to her and gestured to her brusquely to put it on. 
  She'd done so in a rush, glad to be offered any covering for her nakedness. 
  Once enveloped in the obscuring garment, she stood passively while one of them 
  roughly adjusted it's fit, ensuring that the steel loops of the waist chain 
  projected out through eyelets sewn into the wide, elasticized waist band. Then 
  they'd restrained her. In moments her wrists each bore a very seriously intentioned, 
  shiny, wide steel cuff and these were immediately locked to the loops over her 
  hips. They next connected a chain leash to the central back loop, doubling it 
  so that it wouldn't drag on the floor. She could feel its swinging weight of 
  links, and they made a light tinkling sound even though enfolded within the 
  fullness of the heavy cotton of the long and cumbersome full skirt. They hadn't 
  been satisfied with those restraints alone though, for her ankles were quickly 
  encircled by tight steel bands, like those around her wrists; joined with a 
  short length of sturdy chain. 

 The ankle cuffs had been a shock to Christine, and the short hobbling chain 
  even more so; but she knew with certainty that she was their helpless victim 
  when the Jailer ratcheted them so tightly around her ankles that she had difficulty 
  walking, even in the prison-issued sandals. Her forced, fast-paced journey to 
  the holding cell had been an agony of steel jerking painfully on her ankles 
  as she strove to take normal steps. She'd had to hurry along in small dancing 
  paces on tip-toe, weeping from the pain of trying to walk, her elbows grasped 
  firmly by a guard on each side. Their grip on her upper arms had been commandingly 
  firm, and restrained as she was, she could no more resist them than she could 
  an avalanche. 

 The cell, or one like it was not a nice place to look forward to spending 
  the rest of her life. 

 A rat scurried from a hole in the floor, its long, leprous, naked tail swishing 
  as it inspected the weeping girl. It seemed as though the rodent understood 
  just how helpless she'd been made, and its bolder and bolder excursions had 
  become increasingly longer. It crept closer to the shuddering young woman, sniffing 
  at her. She gently tugged her cuffed wrists against the hidden waist chain, 
  trying to scare it off with the motion; but it hurt too much to make any sudden 
  moves. From the back of her waist, the six foot length of steel links led to 
  a ring-bolt inset into the concrete just above the thin mattress, and from the 
  centre link of her cruelly short hobble chain, a secondary leash of the same 
  length led to another ring-bolt embedded in the concrete wall underneath the 
  bench. In the corner, a malodorous covered bucket was the only toilet arrangement 
  provided and she'd had to use it once already. It had been a difficult and humiliating 
  process; but what else could she do? Even though naked beneath the ankle-length 
  cotton prison dress, she was inhibited in every movement and the long skirt 
  had proven difficult to get out of the way when she'd had to use the bucket. 
  She still felt her face flaming scarlet with embarrassment at the maneuvers 
  she'd had to make to be able to complete even this most basic of human activities. 
  "I'm not a wild animal that they have to fasten me like this!" She wailed to 
  herself in despair. 

 For interminable boring hours now, she'd sat alone in the silent cell, waiting 
  for them to come and take her to her fate. Certainly, some faint hope had been 
  offered by the envoy from the Embassy. He'd said that her Government was reviewing 
  the proceedings; but, he hadn't offered much in the way of consolation. He'd 
  listened to her story, staring fascinated at the manacles and chains that ensured 
  she remained a prisoner, even in his presence, and when she'd started to sob 
  brokenly near the end, he'd only passed over some paper tissues and made meaningless 
  soothing noises. She'd wiped her eyes with great difficulty, even though her 
  wrists were only loosely chained to her waist at that point, then he'd left. 
  Christine felt even more abandoned when the Guards returned and pulled her hands 
  back down to her sides, chaining them as they were now, preventing her from 
  even touching herself. 

 And so she sat; huddled, chained and alone, waiting. 

 A key was inserted into the steel portal's lock and the door swung open to 
  reveal the Prosecution lawyer. She stared up at him in despair, thinking that 
  her time had finally come. 

 "Good afternoon, Miss Frank." He smiled grimly down at her where she sat in 
  despair on her bench. 

 "H-h-hello." she whispered tremulously. 

 "Miss Frank, I'm here to offer you an alternative to your sentence." 

 Her heart leapt when he said the words and she attempted to stand, only to 
  sink back onto her hard perch, deeply intimidated by the sound of clattering 
  links to the back of her waist, reinforcing her helplessness. She gingerly moved 
  her arms against the restriction of the tight shackles on her wrists and the 
  constricting chain cutting into her middle. 

 "W-w-why is this h-h-happening t-t-to me?" She wailed, hoping against hope 
  that what he offered was better than her current fate. He ignored her question. 

 "First of all, let me tell you what you can expect in your current situation. 
  Miss Frank, your sentence is particularly onerous. Hard labour, in this country, 
  means precisely that. You won't be required to go to the rock pile to make gravel, 
  perhaps; but you will be made to work at unpleasant and demanding tasks to build 
  up your strength until that becomes possible. After that, you'll go to the quarry, 
  or the mines; or be required to do road work and such things as clearing ditches. 
  This is a tropical country, Miss Frank, and so not only is the work that you'll 
  have to do unpleasant in the extreme; but it is quite dangerous too." 

 "I-I-I know." She quavered, having seen the horrid snakes and the biting insects 
  all over the place. 

 "In addition you will, of course, be kept chained all of the time; so there 
  will be virtually no possibility of escape for you." 

 "O-o-o-ohhhh nnnnooo!" she moaned as yet more tears streamed down her face. 

 "Well, Miss Frank; there is an alternative to your rather drab and dismal 
  future, should you wish to take advantage of it." 

 After spending just the short time she had, chained so helplessly in her cell, 
  she was ready to grasp at anything that would extract her from her certain future. 

 "Oh please? What do I h-h-have to do?" 

 "Let me explain the mechanics of this alternative to you, before you accept. 
  First of all, you must realize that your current penalty is really only a thinly-disguised 
  death sentence. There is no doubt that you will die either from the sheer physical 
  exertion that you'll have to make to stay alive, or perhaps someday, while you 
  are clearing a ditch or working in the swamps, a snake or an alligator will 
  take you for its own, and that will be the end of Christine Frank." 

 "Ohhh, p-p-please ..... ." she wept at hearing the words that she knew to 
  be true. 

 "I'm afraid that that is truly the case. However, as I mentioned, there is 
  an alternative to this sentence. You will be required to submit yourself, in 
  writing, to the Intensive Care and Experimental Studies Group, located in the 
  Central Prison For Women. This Establishment conducts research on, and the rehabilitation 
  of female offenders. Their program is extensive, and effective." 

 "Bu-but I'm innocent!" she wailed. 

 "That is not what the verdict was, Miss Frank. You have been found guilty 
  of your crime, and must now pay your debt. I'm trying to explain your alternatives. 
  Believe me, young woman, you have virtually none; other than what I am offering 
  you!" 

 "P-p-please? Don't be angry with me? I-I-I'm just so overwhelmed by what's 
  happened." 

 "Very well then. As I was saying, this Establishment offers you an alternative. 
  It isn't a pleasant one; but it's much more attractive than your present circumstances. 
  Naturally their security is also very tight and so you will find yourself in 
  restraints at all times while you are there; but you won't be exposed to the 
  dangers out there in the wild. You will only spend some five years in their 
  custody, rather than your current sentence of twenty-five. Can you accept that?" 

 "Y-y-yes, I think so." She whispered, feeling the cruel bite of her shackles 
  and the restricting weight of her leashing chains. 

 "The program that you are eligible for is an Closed Option one, Miss Frank. 
  Once you have entered it, there is no turning back." 

 "I-I-I understand." 

 "Good! I take it then that you wish to utilize this alternative?" 

 "Oh, Ggggodddd!" she moaned in tears again, "Please, please! Get me out of 
  here!" 

 "Very well, then. I'll take that as a yes and will arrange matters forthwith. 
  The documentation for you to sign will be ready and your Official Transfer to 
  the Program will take place shortly." 

 "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" she whispered, unbearably relieved to have escaped 
  from a terrible fate. 

 "I'll see you shortly." He left her then, still sitting forlornly on the hot 
  steel bench, her shoulders shaking with sobs of relief. 

 What seemed like a long time later the door opened and the Jailer entered. 

 "Stand up!" 

 She did so, and he quickly released her leash chains. His iron hard fingers 
  painfully encircled her right arm above the elbow and she was frog-marched from 
  the miserable little concrete box that had been her home for only 6 hours. Five 
  minutes later she was positioned in front of the Warden's desk, renewed tears 
  of pain sliding unwiped down her cheeks from the abrading of the tight steel 
  encirclements of her ankles. The man who'd visited her in the cell stood behind 
  it, next to the Warden. She looked down to the desk, where arrayed on the surface, 
  facing her, were three, long, closely-typed pages, and a pen. 

 "The paper on the left is your Official Request to be transferred to the ICESG, 
  Miss Frank. It must be signed prior to any of the others becoming effective. 
  The middle one is your Commutation of Sentence, and it will then activate the 
  third document. That one is your Official Agreement to accept the Terms and 
  Conditions that will be imposed by your request on the first document. 

 "By signing these papers, you thereby accede to all of the procedures and 
  events that will ensue, forfeiting any early parole or release until your new 
  and reduced sentence has been completed to the State's satisfaction. This signing 
  also forfeits your right to any further action by your Government. Copies of 
  all pertinent records and these papers will be presented to the Ambassador later 
  today, should you sign them. Do you understand?" 

 "Wh-wh-what h-h-happens to me after I do?" 

 "For the moment, that does not concern you, Miss Frank. Do you wish to be 
  assigned to ICESG or not?" 

 "Y-y-yes, I do. Please." She whispered, not really knowing what she was committing 
  herself to, or caring, at this point. She only wanted to escape what would surely 
  happen if she didn't. 

 "You must now sign the documents in the order that I've indicated." 

 "P-p-please? Could my hands be freed?" 

 "Miss Frank! Of course not. You will sign them, if at all, confined as you 
  are. You may approach and use the pen provided." 

 She shuffled slowly forward to the desk, her ankle chain snapping tight with 
  each pitifully small pace and the jingling of it causing her an acute flush 
  of embarrassment. She came to the edge of the wide mahogany desk then leaned 
  against it, her fingers grasping for the pen that she thought offered salvation. 
  The distance of the pen from the edge had been carefully calculated so that 
  it was just beyond her reach, forcing her to bend forward and struggle against 
  her chains to reach it. Christine leaned too far and her feet went out from 
  under her. She collapsed onto the hard brown surface in a disorderly pile of 
  desperately struggling, chained femininity, deeply humiliated by her helplessness 
  and restrictions. Gasping sobs shook her shoulders while she awkwardly struggled 
  to regain her feet; but now she had the fateful pen in her fingers. Shaking 
  with reaction and still blushing furiously at having her helplessness so glaringly 
  demonstrated, she leant over again and managed to print, then write her name 
  at the bottom of each document. 

 "Stand back, 130146." 

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 2 

 Christine had, in a twinkling, become only a numbered body. 

 She retreated to her original place in front of the desk. The two men took 
  the papers, drew them back, then signed each in turn. All went into a file folder 
  and they stared at her, smiles lighting their faces. 

 "Very good, 130146." The Warden stared at her with a frankly appraising glance. 
  "You will be a welcome addition at ICESG. They have not had an experimental 
  subject of your race or age to study until now. As Abdullah here has told you, 
  your time there will be quite, 'stimulating' shall we say. You won't like it 
  much at all; but it's certainly a better alternative than ending your life in 
  the jaws of a crocodile." 

 He pressed a button on the phone. 

 "Send in the Acquisition Escort." 

 A moment later, the door behind her opened soundlessly and two large, tough-looking 
  women strode in to stand on either side of the quailing, chained prisoner. Both 
  carried black leather-covered cases, setting them down when they stopped behind 
  Christine, facing the Warden's desk. 

 "Is this the prisoner? Frank, Christine: 130146?" asked the older of the two. 

 "It is." 

 "May I have her papers, please?" 

 The file folder was passed wordlessly across the desk and the woman took it 
  then flipped slowly through the three pages it contained. 

 "Everything appears to be in order, sir. I'll have these copied for your records 
  and sent back by courier to you later today." 

 "That'll be fine, Captain. You can use this office to secure the prisoner 
  for transport if you wish." 

 "Thank you, sir. We'll do that and be on our way." 

 All during the exchange Christine remained standing numbly before the desk, 
  staring straight ahead, fearing to look at her new captors. The wardress on 
  her left grasped her arm and pulled her to the side of the office. What she 
  saw was immediately intimidating. The two women were dressed alike in long-skirted, 
  severe blue uniforms that seemed to emphasize both their height and their over-all 
  size and adding to their aura of mystery and threatening intent, Christine saw 
  that each ones face, except for her eyes, was concealed by an opaque veil that 
  descended almost to their waists. Each wore a wide leather belt and slung from 
  these were the usual hardware pouches that prison guards and policemen the world 
  over seemed to collect as a part of their job function; a holstered automatic 
  pistol on one side, large key rings, hand-cuff pouches, radios, and billy clubs. 

 "Sit down on the chair, 130146. Move slowly!" 

 She sat numbly on the hard wooden chair, grateful to at least be off her feet. 

 The other wardress brought over the two cases, set them down on the floor 
  in front of her, then popped the latches and lifted the lids. What lay revealed 
  in one were coiled loops of glittering chain, packed in poly-ethylene, zip-lock 
  bags. The other contained a large selection of gleaming, thick, and wide steel 
  bands, together with other constructions that she could not comprehend the function 
  of, yet. 

 "Remain quiet while we exchange your ankle cuffs." 

 Christine sat immobile while her shackles were quickly removed, then, she 
  felt the wide bands of her new restraints locked no less tightly in their place. 
  They were a little easier to bear, for they didn't cut into her flesh as much 
  as had her previous ones; but she was surprised and a little shocked when a 
  pair of platform-soled, six-inch-heeled, ankle strap pumps was produced. It 
  seemed completely absurd that they would provide this kind of footwear, especially 
  in a prison; but there was obviously a sound reason for it. In The West, the 
  wearing of such footwear not only changes a woman's walk but also lessens the 
  wearer's mobility, even though this circumscription of freedom is suffered in 
  the name of fashion. Here, the purpose was exactly the same; but fashion didn't 
  enter into the equation in any way. Once the shoes had been strapped and locked 
  onto her feet; and in combination with her hobble chain and ankle cuffs, Christine 
  was even more helplessly restricted. 

 "Wrists!" 

 One at a time, each of her hands was freed of it's cuff, being immediately 
  re-confined by another of the tight, wide bands, then fastened to an arm of 
  the chair. 

 "Move to the front!" 

 She slid forward and one of them went behind, opened the back of her gown 
  and unlocked her waist chain. A wide, thick metal strap was slipped around her 
  waist and locked tightly in place, no less crushingly so than its predecessor 
  and she closed the dress. Christine's wrists were separately released from the 
  arms of the chair and the wardresses pulled each around behind her back and 
  locked it to her belt, palms facing outward. They weren't finished with her 
  yet, for one of them reached into the opened case and drew out a smaller wide 
  band. 

 "Lift your chin!" 

 Christine stared numbly and helplessly up at the women, praying that what 
  she knew was about to happen was not really going to. 

 "I said, lift your chin, 130146!" 

 "Oh, p-p-please ....?" 

 Nevertheless, Christine raised her head and tried not to look at the mesmerized 
  male on-lookers while she was fitted with her collar. 

 The device that was clasped around her neck seemed to have been made especially 
  for her, flowing intimately around the ivory column of her throat. It clamped 
  firmly, then she heard a distinct metallic click from the back when it closed 
  and locked. Christine gulped, feeling the compression of the wide steel against 
  her windpipe and a small sob of mortification welled from deep within her. Her 
  fingers clawed fruitlessly at the air and she tugged her arms fruitlessly against 
  their fastenings to the back of the belt. One of the wardresses picked up a 
  short length of chain. 

 "Bend forward!" 

 Trembling with humiliation, Christine did as commanded and felt her long hair 
  brushed aside then felt a lock close through the ring on the back of her collar. 
  The short length hung loosely down her back; but only for a moment. 

 "Straighten up! Arch your back!" 

 Reluctantly, Christine followed the order. The chain to her collar slowly 
  tightened and there was another solid-sounding click when the bottom end was 
  locked to the central back ring of her steel belt! She tried to resume her normal 
  posture, only to find that the links ascending to her collar now held her unequivocally 
  in an embarrassing, breast-displaying position. Another sob of embarrassment 
  shook her shoulders. The wardress in charge reached down to the opened suitcase 
  and withdrew a wide and intricately curved U-shape. Either end of this specialized 
  strap was equipped with a small mechanical fitting; but Christine was horrified 
  by what she saw waiting at the bottom curve of the U. It was a large, hump-backed, 
  black, slippery-looking pear-shaped object. Instinctively her mind put all the 
  pieces together in a flash. 

 "Ooooohhhh ppppllleeassse, no!" she wailed, shaking her head desperately from 
  side to side, yet keeping her eyes fixed on the inimical object in the wardress's 
  hands. 

 "All females accepted by ICESG are required to wear a silencer, 130146." the 
  woman stated with unequivocally. "You will open your mouth and keep it that 
  way to allow us to fit you with it, or there will be severe consequences." 

 "Bu-bu-but, I'll ch-ch-choke!" Christine wailed fearfully. 

 "Nonsense! Oral Cavity Blocks are carefully designed for long-term usage. 
  Now, open your mouth!" 

 Numbly, Christine let her mouth drop partially open. She'd been through a 
  perfectly horrid day already, and this seemed to be the final indignity. The 
  long time in the cell combined with the inevitability of her severe sentence, 
  and her feelings of total abandonment and helplessness worked to the advantage 
  of her captors. Her natural resistance had been reduced almost to nil. 

 The evil assembly was raised to her face and the thick pad began to slip between 
  her slightly separated teeth. It only entered about an inch between them. 

 "Wider!" 

 She reluctantly allowed the rubber horror to be pushed deeper into her mouth, 
  feeling the large hump at the centre pressing firmly against her upper and lower 
  teeth, spreading her jaws even further apart. 

 "Aaaauuughhh! Nnnnooooghhghh ...." she wailed, too late realizing that there 
  was to be no turning back. 

 One of them pinched her nostrils closed. Christine attempted to shake her 
  head free of the assaulting hands and opened her mouth slightly wider to continue 
  breathing. That final fraction was all that was needed. The pad was made of 
  a slightly compressible rubber and it squeezed down just enough that the wardress 
  was able to push it all the way in. She felt it slide deeply into her mouth. 

 "NNNnnnnnnoooo .... nnngghhh ...." she managed to wail as it plopped fully 
  inside, cutting her off in mid-protest. 

 Christine's nostrils flared widely while she gasped for breath and she shook 
  her head frantically to try and find some freedom from the thing that had been 
  forced into her mouth. It barely moved. 

 "Hold your head still, 130146!" the wardress in charge ordered harshly. 

 Despite her tongue's frantic attempts to eject the thing, she did as ordered. 
  The wardress knelt and stared into her prisoner's fear-widened eyes, then reached 
  out with both hands and clamped them to the straps over her cheeks. The other 
  had moved behind and held the back of Christine's head with both hands, her 
  arms rigidly braced against her abdomen. 

 "Keep still!" 

 The hands over her cheeks suddenly pushed back and pressed firmly together. 
  The large gagging pad was forced even deeper into Christine's mouth and throat, 
  creating a spasm of frantic retching; but it was too late! With small mechanical 
  joining sounds, the locks at the ends of the down curved gagging strap engaged 
  on their collar mounting knuckles, locking it and the pad irrevocably onto and 
  into Christine's head. The strap sealed her lower face from under her nose to 
  the point of her chin. A deep shelf cupped underneath, back to her throat, preventing 
  her from opening her jaw. She spasmed for an interminable two minutes as her 
  body automatically tried to reject the horror that had been inserted; but she 
  hadn't eaten in two days and so nothing came up. The continuing reaction made 
  her thrash weakly in the chair until her brain finally accepted the fact that 
  whatever was in her throat, was not going to go away. Christine stared up at 
  her two escorts through streaming eyes, jerking her hands uselessly against 
  their confining lock. 

 Again, they reached into the ominous suitcase and this time came up with a 
  set of the curved metal bands, resembling a cage. As soon as they brought them 
  into Christine's view, she knew what it was, or thought she did. With her head 
  already held rigid by the gag strap and its collar mounting, she couldn't avoid 
  the cage being slipped into place, its cross-strap resting lightly on her hair. 
  It was tightened slowly around her skull until snug, then interlocking latches 
  were flipped down to mate to the gag-strap. The device had become firmly attached 
  to her head and collar. Christine could still see out from within the snug, 
  goggle like frames pressing into the sensitive skin surrounding her eyes; but 
  then, they did something utterly horrible and alien to her experience. Two smooth, 
  and very long curved metal rods, were swung around from the sides and slowly 
  inserted far up her nose! When this happened, Christine squalled with reaction, 
  shivering violently as the disturbing penetration continued until there was 
  a muted set of clicks. It was awful! 

 "Stand up!" 

 "Mmmmmmnnnn! Nnnnnnhhhh ..." was all she could manage from under the cruel 
  strap. 

 She rose to her feet, quaking with terror, feeling the thoroughly confining 
  wide bands clamped around her ankles assert their authority. Her ankle-length 
  skirt was swept aside for a moment by one of the wardresses and a long chain 
  lead was connected to the large central ring of her hobble. The same one then 
  stood and reached to Christine's collared throat with another glittering length 
  of links held in her hand. She tried to move her head away to avoid having the 
  humiliating leash attached; but naturally, there was no way she could stop it 
  happening and with a solid click, she was doubly tethered. 

 "Hold still!" 

 On the sides of her head, another set of thick, blunt-ended, curved metal 
  rods was swung up and inserted deeply into each of her ears! Christine felt 
  a pair of audible clicks when they locked into place, almost deafening her completely. 
  These additions quickly drove her to shivering distraction from their twitching 
  pressure on her ear drums. What had she signed herself away to???! 

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 3

 "Thank you Warden for providing us with this prisoner." The more senior of 
  the two said while the other closed the suitcases. 

 "You're welcome Captain. Perhaps you'll be able to notify me when you begin 
  your procedures with her?" 

 "Certainly. We'll keep you advised of her testing schedule. She'll be placed 
  in her Sarcophagus, then be disposed of in the usual manner." 

 "Oh? Very interesting. What will occur, if I can ask?" 

 "Well, basically, for I'm not aware of all the details, she will first be 
  fitted her with the specialized restraints we use at ICESG, then be tested to 
  establish her tolerances. From that point, she will be subjected to quite stringent 
  isolation techniques. Behaviour modification, not unlike Aversion Therapy processes 
  in use elsewhere will then be applied to the prisoner for a prolonged period." 

 "Ah. Very interesting. I'm sure that this one will be an ideal subject." 

 Throughout the conversation Christine's eyes flicked back and forth inside 
  their frames with growing terror as her fate was revealed in more and more detail, 
  even while she struggled to accept her bizarre new restrictions. 

 "Yes. We think that these techniques are quite useful in curing much of the 
  trauma that's associated with female criminals. We'd best be off. Thank you 
  again for your help." 

 One of the two wardresses reached up to Christine's forehead and flipped a 
  set of blank, steel, black rubber lined shields down over her eyes, blinding 
  her utterly. A wail of despair slipped up her throat and out through her deeply 
  penetrated nose and she whined with fear at this even more strict control of 
  her senses. 

 "Not a problem. Have a good day. Come along 130146!" she heard faintly. 

 With that, the Prosecutor came around the desk and opened the door. The wardress 
  holding her leashes jerked firmly on them, pulling her from the office and out 
  into the prison proper. Christine's high heels, together with the fact that 
  the fit of the shoes was imperfect, made her teeter along precariously, the 
  short hobble chain snapping taunt between her tightly cuffed ankles with every 
  step. She'd never worn such limiting footwear before and found it almost impossible 
  to master the art of walking in the shoes. She had to follow them blindly, twitching 
  her head from side to side against the controlling influences of the collar 
  and all of the other metal locked into her, eyes rolling wildly under the blinding 
  panels fastened over them. The shoes forced her to strut with a street hooker's 
  arrogance, and the short chain between her collar and waist band only served 
  to emphasize her stance and movements. She hated being forced to display herself 
  in the manner her fastenings enforced; but there wasn't any way to prevent it. 

 The trip out of the grim prison took nearly ten minutes of door-banging eternity 
  as she was gradually extracted from its core and taken to a waiting paddy wagon 
  parked in the sealed delivery bay. Her wardresses had to show her documentation 
  and their own ID cards to prison personnel at every locked gate and then again 
  before she was placed in the transfer vehicle. The back of the boxy truck was 
  already opened and waiting to receive her. Inside, the steel-walled prison compartment 
  was fitted with simple hard and unpadded steel benches along each side. On the 
  walls, sets of equally spaced rings with short dangling chains were welded in 
  place, each one equipped with an opened lock on its free end. These sets had 
  a high central ring, then some twelve inches above the bench were two others, 
  three feet apart. Finally, under the bench, there was another ring with a short, 
  lock-equipped chain, waiting. 

 Christine's captors led her to the mobile prison, jerking demandingly on her 
  leashes to speed her progress. She stepped hesitantly into the van, then was 
  pushed down onto the right side bench. Her shoulders still shook with cruelly 
  suppressed sobs while they fastened her in place; joining the top chain to the 
  back ring of her collar then tightening it until her bent elbows touched the 
  steel wall. She closed her eyes under her blinders when the lower chains were 
  locked to each side of her steel waist band, surging against their obdurate 
  links while one of the escorting wardresses bent down and locked the lowest 
  one to the central link of her hobble. A sharp jerk and rattle of chain through 
  a ring drew her ankles and lower legs in under the bench, then it was locked. 
  The two women stood and surveyed their helpless, partially deafened and blinded 
  prisoner. 

 "You might as well relax as much as you can. This is going to be a long trip 
  and you won't like it very much." 

 Christine hated it already! The door of the paddy wagon crashed closed and 
  locked and she was left alone with her trepidation-filled thoughts. A moment 
  later the engine of the vehicle started, then it pulled jerkily away with a 
  gear grinding growl. She was thrown unceremoniously to the lengths of her too 
  short tethers and stifled wails of pain and distress welled in her throat, only 
  to be still-born at the blockade of her awful gag pad. The roads that were travelled 
  during the ensuing hours were nowhere near the smooth black-top of North America. 
  She was continually tossed about in the back of the poorly sprung vehicle, halted 
  only from leaving her hard bench by the firmly secured chains. Her self-pitying, 
  gag-strangled cries were lost in the continual unmuffled labouring of the diesel 
  engine, and for the entire time Christine wondered what she had done to herself. 

 Finally, the journey ended and she heard the door to her mobile prison and 
  chamber of horrors opened. 

 "Remove her to the Holding Block at the Hospital." a bored man's voice ordered. 
  "She's not scheduled for full in-processing until tomorrow morning, so you may 
  as well strip her once she's in her cell." 

 "Very good, sir." replied one of the wardresses. 

 Christine stood when one of them freed her of the paddy wagon's chains then 
  grasped her arm . She teetered in blackness on her high heels. 

 "Come along 130146!" 

 She was led by a harsh jerk on her leashes, out of the van then deep into 
  the Research Establishment, suddenly recalling that the man had said hospital! 
  "What are they going to do to me?? Please God!" She prayed, "Don't let them 
  hurt me!" The tapping of her high heels and the swishing of the long skirt against 
  her legs distracted her from the jingling of her chains while she was taken 
  to her cell. 

 For Christine Frank, now prisoner 130146, another door to her past closed 
  firmly behind as she was marched into a new and horrifying reality. It was to 
  become immeasurably more distressing than had been her previous fate. She had 
  yet to realize the full enormity of having become nothing more than a human 
  female research animal. 

 At last their group of three reached the Holding Block and she was pulled 
  into a stark, small, white-walled cell. The wardresses immediately connected 
  her back-of-the-collar ring to a chain dangling from the centre of the ceiling, 
  then her hobble leash was likewise attached to another chain emerging from the 
  centre of the tiled floor. A moment later, something snapped into a socket on 
  the front of the metal gag-strap over her mouth. 

 "You'll be able to get water if you suck on your gag pad." she heard faintly. 

 The shields covering her staring eyes were flipped open and clipped into their 
  mounts on the head cage. For long moments Christine blinked her tear-brimming 
  eyes against the glaring illumination of the cell, then stared around in fear. 
  Her eyes swivelled to the taller of the two wardresses when she spoke again. 

 "This cell will be your home for the next couple of weeks while the doctors 
  prepare you and fit your personalized restraints. You'll not be fed anything 
  but water and liquidized food while you're here. We've fitted you with those 
  tubes to take care of your nutrition requirements, and there's a toilet there 
  in the corner. One of us will be back later tonight to prepare you for sleep. 
  You'll stay here until tomorrow morning, then things that you won't like at 
  all will be done to you." she said with an evil smirk. "Now hold still while 
  we get you out of that dress." 

 They quickly and easily divested her of her long dress, thanks to its many 
  Velcro closures, leaving her to stand naked before them but for her restraints. 

 She watched helplessly when they turned then strode from the cell in a flurry 
  of long skirts; sliding its barred door across the narrow entrance and locking 
  the gleaming portal behind them. She stared silently out through the tightly-spaced 
  gleaming rods of her cage at their retreating backs, moving closer to it with 
  dainty, chain-hobbled steps, until jerked to a halt by her collar leash. Only 
  a small arc of barren, white painted wall opposite was visible to her beyond 
  the bars and she soon lost sight of her captors then turned slowly to inspect 
  her new home. Other than the narrow, rubber-covered steel bench bolted securely 
  to the wall opposite the door and the utilitarian toilet in the corner, the 
  cell was completely featureless. In the ceiling above, two long, armoured glass 
  panels illuminated everything with a harsh, brilliant white light that hurt 
  to look at and so she averted her eyes as best she could, then pranced across 
  to the bench that was to serve as her bed. The presence of her chains was an 
  humiliation all on its's own and their noises only served to reinforce the state 
  of her captivity to her. 

 Christine sat down slowly on the narrow shelf and struggled frenziedly for 
  a moment, jerking her arms against their fastenings and kicking her legs against 
  her their short ankle chain, then, feeling the discomfort of her footwear, she 
  tried to kick off the shoes. They wouldn't budge. Their ankle straps were far 
  too tight and locked on, so there was no possibility of freeing herself of their 
  punishing presence on her feet. The metal rods in her ears were a source of 
  constant irritation and the ones inserted in her nose were also very uncomfortable 
  to have to wear; but twitch and shake as she tried, she couldn't escape them. 
  Why had they fitted them to her? 

 She sank back against the wall as much as her pinioned arms permitted and 
  sobbed brokenly at the terrible hand that fate had dealt her. Occasionally, 
  she sucked at the horror in her mouth and was rewarded with a thin trickle of 
  moisture down her parched throat. The hours that followed passed in boring succession, 
  until she thought she'd go crazy from the lack of anything to do other than 
  concentrate on her predicament. At intervals she stood awkwardly and paced back 
  and forth across the ten foot length of the white-painted concrete floor, listening 
  to the rattle and clink of her hobble and leashes. She ignored the discomfort 
  and then pain of her shoes for as long as she could each time, then had to return 
  to her bench and sit staring forlornly at the looping chains and the watering/feeding 
  hoses. Tears of resignation continued to trickle down her face until at last 
  she flung herself down on the hard surface and wept with shoulder-shaking sobs 
  of despair, naked, chained, and alone in the stark cell. 

 Eventually, one of the wardresses returned. Christine was so starved for human 
  contact that she stood and welcomed the appearance of the stern-looking still 
  veiled woman, even though she knew that she was only there to bind her for the 
  coming night. 

 "Time for you to get some sleep." the wardress said not unkindly, slowly approaching 
  the quivering young woman. "Sit on your bed." 

 Christine was so defeated by her isolation and bonds that she clattered over 
  and sat down without hesitation. 

 "Very good. Now, I want you to be quiet while I prepare you." the wardress 
  ordered, moving to where Christine sat staring fearfully and silently up at 
  her. "Hold still." 

 She reached to her prisoner's face and released the eye covering shields then 
  flipped them closed over Christine's tear-filled eyes. They eách locked in place 
  with a solid click. 

 "Now," she stated, "you must get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be very traumatic." 

 The wardress's strong hand pressed firmly on Christine's shoulder, forcing 
  her to lay on the so- called bed, then came a rattle of chain. A couple of metallic 
  snaps sounded at her waist and others at the back of her neck and between her 
  ankles ensured that she was fastened into a prone position on the bed, her arms 
  and hands still uncomfortably fastened behind her back. She felt a tug at her 
  face as the Wardress ensured that her water and feeding hoses were still firmly 
  connected. 

 "I don't envy you at all, 130146." she murmured to herself as she drew a thin 
  sheet over the, chained, shivering female body laying vulnerably before her, 
  then walked to the door and closed it firmly. A last glance through the bars 
  into the barren cell confirmed that the young woman within was utterly helpless 
  and firmly restrained for the night. 

 On her bed, Christine struggled to sit up, jerking against the firm limiting 
  of her bed chains, then she subsided and lay twitching. Her thoughts whirled 
  in chaotic obsession with her frightening new existence while she tried to come 
  to terms with what had happened to her in the space of only 48 hours. The enormity 
  of her imprisonment and unknown future was overwhelmingly terrifying; but despite 
  her circumstances, the events of the past day faded away when sleep eventually 
  overtook her exhausted mind. 

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 4

 Morning came with a wealth of aches and pains. Her eyes snapped open beneath 
  their blinding shields and she chewed automatically on the obdurate rubber pad 
  embedded in her mouth until a trickle of blessed moisture slithered down her 
  throat. She whined with terror when her situation came fully into focus again 
  then tried to sit up, only to be sharply tugged to a halt when her bed chains 
  snapped taunt. For a few minutes she jerked and kicked at her bindings, pleading 
  uselessly into her gag, attempting to escape; but the restraints were resolute 
  and unforgiving. She remained fastened in place. 

 Faintly, she heard the door to her cell slide open and lay very quietly, hoping 
  against hope that she would, on one hand, be released from her captivity, and 
  on the other, somehow be able to avoid whatever it was that was planned for 
  her. A second later the door hissed closed and locked again, then her sheet 
  was pulled off. She closed her eyes just before the shields over them were unlocked 
  and flipped back. 

 "Good morning, 130146! Very nearly time for you to go to the Operating Theatre. 
  Here's the program of what's to come." a burly lab-coated man standing over 
  her stated. "Today we'll mount the Control Additions in your body." 

 "Nnnnmmmpphhh .... " she instinctively tried to speak, forgetting about her 
  gag; blushing all over at being seen naked and helpless by an unknown male. 

 "Yes, yes, I know. You don't want to have it done. Too bad. You've elected 
  to pay for your crime in this manner and that's that." his uncaring voice continued. 
  "What we'll fit you with today and in the future will make it very easy for 
  us to keep you docile from now on and will also be used to secure you for your 
  testing. Too, they'll be employed when you're put into Isolation and you're 
  subjected to the Aversion Therapy. They also have the decidedly advantageous 
  aspect of keeping you fully and constantly aware of your femaleness." 

 Terror squeezed her heart with his words while he released her bed chains. 
  She slowly came erect and stared up silently at the tall man standing before 
  her. Her high-heel clad feet hung over the edge of the high bench, swinging 
  freely some twelve inches above the floor, the central leash from her hobble 
  dangling down, then running across to disappear into the central floor hole. 
  A part sob slipped from her throat when she looked at the links that tethered 
  her like an animal. 

 "You need not worry about any pain associated with being fitted with these 
  pieces of your Control Equipment, 130146. Once we get you on the Table, you'll 
  be thoroughly anaesthetized. The various pieces of this new ... ah . jewellery 
  will be mounted on, and within your body while you're under. You'll wake up 
  back here in this cell and be allowed to recover from the surgery for a day 
  or two. After that we'll proceed with attaching the balance of the equipment 
  to you. All of our female subjects are required to wear it, so you can take 
  some comfort that you're not alone, and you're not the first. You'll be permitted 
  a short time to get used to it, also. 

 "This part of the process will only take a short time to complete, then we'll 
  move to the Testing Stage to establish what your tolerances are. After we've 
  accumulated your base-line data; and that takes about four days of continuous 
  evaluation; we'll make a cast of your body. Then, when your Sarcophagus is ready, 
  we'll fasten you in it for the commencement of the Isolation Procedures. You'll 
  then be subjected to the Aversion and Correction Programs. Your sentence will 
  be carried out over the balance of your time here at ICESG. Needless to say, 
  you will emerge, when that is permitted, as a completely different person than 
  who you are now. In past experiments we've discovered that even a 30 day sentence 
  is enough to change experimental subjects irrevocably." 

 "NNNNnnnnnggghhhh!! NNNNNNGGGGHHHH! ... " Christine screamed into her gag, 
  hearing officially, how she was to spend the balance of her new life. Her restraining 
  chains rattled and snapped as she struggled frantically against them. 

 "Very well, 130146. Now that you're aware of what will happen; and I remind 
  you that you granted us these freedoms when you signed those documents yesterday, 
  it's time to get you along to the Operating Theatre." 

 Christine quailed on the bench before him. He moved towards her and she drew 
  her chained feet up and tried to shrink herself away from him; but her leashes 
  made her helpless and totally unable to avoid or resist, as was their intent. 
  Goose bumps of fear erupted on her flesh. 

 "Nnnnnnaaaggghhh! Nnnnnn!" she sobbed despairingly, flopping onto her side. 

 He disregarded her terrified, gag-strangled screaming and reached out to grasp 
  the collar chain close to the back of her neck. He'd seen it all before. Once 
  in hand, he jerked hard on the leash, pulling her erect and finally to her feet; 
  choking when the tight collar throttled her mercilessly. She stood naked and 
  shivering before him, staggering while she tried to re-accustom herself to the 
  punishing high heels. The door slid open and another white-coated man entered. 

 "Normal reaction?" he asked. 

 "Yeah, the usual. She's easy to handle though. Let's get her to the Operating 
  Theatre and secured. That British technician says he's on a tight schedule and 
  wants to get this one done and out of the way as soon as possible. They must 
  be paying a lot to fly him in, and have him equip these women like this, then 
  keep his mouth shut." 

 "I suppose so. None of our concern though. Let's get her prep'd." 

 "Right. Come along girl!" 

 The second man knelt and freed her hobble leash while the first connected 
  a chain to the front ring of her collar. Only then did he release the cell tethering 
  at the back of her collar and the hoses mounted to her face strap. When he'd 
  unlocked the lower chain, the second man stood and clamped Christine's left 
  arm in a firm grip. She tried to baulk when her leash tightened, bending forward 
  from the waist and leaning back against its demand; but it was a hopeless gesture 
  and a moment later she was drawn from the cell and out into a short, white-painted 
  and white tiled corridor. Sniffling and weeping with terror, she was dragged 
  relentlessly along the featureless passageway. Other barred doors broke the 
  monotony of the barren walls; but she only managed quick sideways glimpses inside 
  them as they passed. Each one also contained a young woman, chained and secured 
  as she had been; but there were some horrifying differences to their anatomies 
  that she didn't recognize the importance of, or comprehend. The pictures were 
  brief and utterly terrifying. 

 An elevator entrance loomed before her and with a swipe of an electronic key 
  card, the doors hissed open and she was marched inside. A second later the car 
  began its descent and they seemed to go endlessly down into the depths of the 
  earth. The doors opened to reveal an ante-room outside a gleaming, spotlessly 
  clean, Operating Theatre and through clear plastic doors she saw the stark reality 
  of the Operating table waiting for her, heavy straps dangling and waiting all 
  along it's fearsome length. 

 "Move!" One of them commanded, pulling firmly on her leash. 

 She stumbled into the room. It smelled of disinfectant combined with other 
  indefinable medical odours and her feet very nearly went out from under her 
  as she was made to prance, terror-stricken, towards the ominous platform. It 
  was one of the longest journeys of her young life. Once she stood by its side, 
  they grasped her arms and legs, then with a swoop she was picked up and deposited 
  on the lightly padded, black rubber surface. She was too frightened of what 
  was going to happen, and so at first offered no resistance; but when they began 
  to strap her down on the table; pulling the thick leather belts crushingly tight 
  across her waist, her chest, and just under her trembling breasts, she woke 
  to the fact that she was being prepared for a journey that she might not see 
  the end of. Her chained feet and pinioned arms drummed frantically. Christine's 
  head twisted back and forth in a frenzy, fighting against the restrictions of 
  her collar and imprisoning head cage. A second later, they put an end to even 
  these small tokens of resistance. A hook popped out of the Operating table's 
  surface, just under her collar, snapped through its dangling back ring, then 
  slowly and inexorably retracted into the recess it had sprung from. She felt 
  an immediate downward tension placed on her throat and found that her head had 
  now been utterly immobilized. One at a time both men released her arms and strapped 
  them to the surface of the table. Still efficiently gagged, she could say nothing 
  to her uncaring captors while they completed their tasks, much as she whined 
  and pleaded in incoherent screams; sending frantic messages for pity to them 
  with her tear-filled eyes. 

 Short moments later both of Christine's lower limbs had been encircled by 
  more of the tight, wide bands of thick leather: at her ankles, below the knee, 
  and mid-thigh. Her legs were held, separated, and would soon become more so 
  when the lower portion of the table split. These would be bent so that her knees 
  were pulled up and widely apart, then drawn back towards her chest, allowing 
  the technician an unobstructed access to her sex. They moved back to her head. 
  Suddenly, a panel beneath dropped away to let it be pulled further back by the 
  hook through the ring on her collar. A padded clamp on each side was adjusted 
  until her skull was held immovably. She stared up at the blank white ceiling, 
  held in suspense for what was next. It wasn't a long wait. 

 "OK, 130146. Time for you to go to sleep." 

 A black breathing mask descended to cover Christine's nose and strap-concealed 
  mouth, and she stared upwards into the void above, trying desperately to hold 
  her breath. It too was a lost battle before it had even begun. A minute later 
  she had to inhale with a deep gasp, taking in the ether-laden air that awaited 
  within the mask and the tanks connected to it. With a last shiver, her eyes 
  lost their focus and she slid deeply into a fathomless blackness. 

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 5
 
 Many hours later, Christine slowly returned to the world, and her new life. 

 The cell had not changed. She was once more fastened within it by her collar 
  and hobble leashes, the hoses looping to her face. She lay staring blurrily 
  into the confining blackness enfolding her isolated eyes, vaguely aware that 
  something drastic had been done to her body. For the moment she was unable to 
  pinpoint any feelings of discomfort, then sleep claimed her again almost immediately. 
  When she came back the next time, some eight hours later, it was with the full 
  realization of where she was, and how she had arrived there. A scream tried 
  to tear itself from her throat, only to be halted by the horrid thing still 
  locked into her mouth and around her neck. Still, she was wrapped in utter blackness 
  and could only faintly hear the rattling of her chains; but there was no mistaking 
  their authoritative holds at her wrists, waist, ankles, and neck. When she tried 
  to rise, they jerked distressingly at her limbs and body, forcing her to remain 
  prone. Christine began to concentrate on her sensations, attempting to discern 
  what had been done to her. 

 She started at her feet, and knew immediately that the cuffs she now wore 
  on her ankles were far too tight. They felt wider too, and she didn't like the 
  sensations of helplessness they engendered at all. Her crotch seemed to be one 
  big dull ache. She couldn't see what had happened of course; but she'd been 
  multiply pierced. Each outer sexual lip now bore seven, separate, 8 gauge , 
  welded-closed, stainless steel rings. Inside her body, her vaginal canal was 
  now kept permanently dilated by means of a specialized pair of two inch, inside 
  diameter, stainless steel, donut-like rings. One of these was held in place 
  within her passage by means of twelve, thick, equally-spaced, pins that had 
  been carefully fitted into piercings in her inner labia. These projected up 
  and slightly outwards, transfixing the flesh, then, the larger outer ring had 
  been pressed down onto them and clamped until their notched ends were force-fitted 
  deeply into matching holes on this external part of the donut, making it virtually 
  irremovable. The inner surfaces of the annuli were smoothly machined with spiralled 
  grooves cut into their surfaces, exactly similar to the rifling in a gun barrel. 
  Her clitoris bore a small U shackle, passed directly through it's most sensitive 
  nexus, while at its base, another small steel U also hung. Both had thin yet 
  very strong chains trailing from them and over the edge of the shelf that was 
  her bed; their ends locked to a ring beneath. 

 Her back passage had not escaped attention either. Now, inside, she had been 
  endowed with an expanded, heavy duty, rubber, balloon-like device that penetrated 
  far up into her lower bowel and abdomen. It was hollow; but just within the 
  clenched sphincter, its outer wall had been expanded dramatically so that she 
  couldn't possibly expel it from her body. 

 She sensed that her waist was even more severely constricted, and it was. 
  A wide and thick cinch seemed to have flowed around her middle, pressing deeply 
  into the soft plain of flesh between her pelvis and her ribs. It too had been 
  closed; but was welded shut and equipped with an even dozen sturdy restraint 
  rings. The cinch had additional secrets that she would soon learn of; but for 
  the moment, just its constricting presence alone intimidated her. 

 Her breasts ached terribly and seemed far more tender than she had ever remembered 
  them being. What she couldn't know was that each large, sensitive, fleshy mound 
  was now the host to a deeply skewered, blunt-tipped pin. At their interior tips, 
  these pins were equipped with short barbed arms that had sprung open when they'd 
  been fully inserted, penetrating into the mass of surrounding tissue. They could 
  only be removed, now, by surgery. Each nipple also bore a thick U-type shackle. 
  The transverse joining bar of each U had been passed through the base of the 
  aureole, then the skewering pin had been inserted into the centre of each straining 
  nipple, leaving a quarter of an inch of its thickness protruding from the brown 
  flesh. Then, the thick, spring stainless steel of the U portion of the shackle 
  had been forcibly separated and allowed to snap closed over the ends of these 
  transverse shafts, thus allowing them to flip easily up and down. There was 
  no way she would ever be able to remove them from herself without the special 
  tools that had been used to affix them. Fine and sturdy chains trailed from 
  these over to the edge of her bed, shivering and trembling with each of her 
  shaky, indrawn breaths. They had been locked to the same ring as her clitoral 
  chains. 

 Christine's neck was snugly encircled by a wide and thick metal band that, 
  like her cinch, seemed to have flowed around its contours. At the front and 
  back it was equipped with universal mounted, large and sturdy rings that would 
  allow her to be leashed and controlled easily, while on the sides, just under 
  her ears, other smaller rings also hung in wait. Christine remained gagged and 
  enclosed within the restricting head cage. Now, she suffered other substantial 
  additions that she could only feel the hurt from. Her nose bore a deeply fastened 
  U shackle, embedded far back in the cartilage of the septum. It rested against 
  the metal that covered her lower face, just over her upper lip. She felt her 
  nose burn when she flared her nostrils; but what she couldn't see was that each 
  outer one now had a small, steel-grommetted hole, and inside, her septum did 
  also; in addition to bearing the U shackle already welded there. 

 Her tongue hurt. Where before it had been free; now it was endowed with three 
  small rings crimped firmly into the flesh along each side, plus two more at 
  its tip. Partway back were two, twinned sets of short thick posts passed into 
  and through the writhing muscle, held in place by 5 mm diameter stainless steel 
  balls on each end, screwed tightly down onto the shafts. Under her tongue, driven 
  through and far back in the web, another 'personally' fitted U shackle had been 
  placed. Its intent was more punitive than anything else, for she would always 
  be conscious of it, its discomfort, and how it changed her speech pattern; if 
  she was ever allowed the freedom to speak that is. All were non-removable by 
  the wearer. Christine's ears also ached, for thick rings had been mounted deeply 
  in each of her grommetted lobes and locked closed. But that wasn't all. Her 
  head felt strange and she suddenly realized why ... she was totally bald! Silent 
  weeping shook her shoulders when she discovered she'd been shorn of her hair; 
  but what she had yet to discover was that the change was permanent. Not only 
  her lustrous hair had been removed; but so had her eyebrows, and then the possibility 
  of the roots regrowing had been removed with treatment by a selective chemical 
  agent. 

 In all, she felt as though her whole body had taken a prolonged and unmerciful 
  pummelling; but all she could do was lay shivering in her chains in enforced 
  silence and misery. Occasionally her boredom was broken when one of the staff 
  peered through the barred door to check on her; but other than that she was 
  left utterly alone and continually blinded. 

 Finally, her recovery time was complete, and she was allowed to sit erect 
  again. The eye shields popped open and she remained for long moments with her 
  eyes closed, gradually getting used to the glaring light. 

 "Well, 130146, you seem to've recovered enough to continue." the same man 
  stated. "You'll be taken back to the Operating room now to be fitted with the 
  rest of your Control Equipment." 

 He walked over and clipped a leash to the front of her collar, then quickly 
  released the chains and hoses. A moment later the cell door slid open and Christine 
  was taken, unresisting now, back along the route she'd traveled before. She 
  was led to the table and forced to climb reluctantly up onto it. Every movement 
  she made reinforced the state of her bondage, for the cuffs clamped tightly 
  around her ankles relentlessly constricted her tendons and muscles. Christine 
  felt the strange sensations fighting within her transfixed inner flesh; but 
  she couldn't see or discern the reason for her continual and intimate discomfort. 
  Every movement of her breasts brought a dull ache and she could feel the insistent 
  tugging of the weights of the U shackles embedded in her nipples. Her fingers 
  clawed and flexed while she jerked her arms uselessly against the thick cuffs 
  encircling her finely-boned wrists; but they were still fastened securely behind 
  her back. The belt was a trial in itself, just clamping her middle as tightly 
  as it did. In her mouth, her tongue writhed against the deeply inserted pad 
  and she sensed the new additions from the tugs they exerted. 

 When she lay back, he quickly fastened her in place with the heavy, snap-hook 
  equipped straps from the sides, clipping them readily to the waiting rings on 
  her cinch. He lifted her head and brought another thick strap down from its 
  slot at the end of the table; snapping it to her collar ring at the back. Her 
  hands remained chained behind, forcing her to keep her chest arched, with pierced 
  breasts thrust out and upwards in a brazen display of her femaleness; then, 
  to hold her more firmly pinioned, he drew two others tightly around her upper 
  arms, just above the elbow, flattening them against the Operating table's surface. 
  She couldn't move her body now and the wide collar and head cage only permitted 
  only minimal twitches of her head and neck. He moved to her legs and once again 
  fastened each one securely. With some rapid cranks on an adjusting wheel, the 
  table split down the middle, then spread apart, widely separated. He turned 
  other cranks until her lower body hung suspended above it, her legs stretched 
  lengthways, bent at the knees. 

 Christine gasped and moaned from the strenuous tensions; but she couldn't 
  resist what was being done to her. He paid her muffled cries no heed at all 
  as he made the adjustments, then when he'd finished her preparation, he turned 
  and looked down into her fear-dilated eyes. 

 "OK, 130146, time to put these next pieces on. Then we'll get you into the 
  Testing Area." 

 Without further comment he walked to the side of the room and picked up a 
  large, white cloth covered tray and brought it to a table beside her pinioned 
  body. A muted wail of strangled terror pulsed up her throat as she stared at 
  the ceiling above, unable to see what her next torment was to be. 

 He whisked the cloth away to reveal a large, curiously curved and formed, 
  U-shaped device: the crotch-piece for the belt that she wore. He picked up the 
  heavy piece and rotated it until the narrower arm of the U was lowermost, then 
  moved it carefully under her suspended and quivering buttocks. This positioning 
  took a moment, then he slowly pushed the arm upwards and into contact with the 
  thick belt. A set of small clicks sounded. She felt the curved piece settle 
  against the upper slopes of the crevice between her fleshy lower cheeks, then 
  it pressed more and more tightly when he brought it forward; gradually bending 
  it up and pressing it into the quivering muscles of her lower abdomen. Between 
  her legs, the intricately curved plate widened so that it completely encompassed 
  the whole of her sex. It continued upwards over her belly, narrowing into a 
  broad strap that ascended to near the bottom edge of her cinch at the front. 
  The thick, blunt end was equipped with three long, notched pins; but these were 
  still separated from the under side of the thick waist band by an inch of visible 
  flesh. 

 For a moment nothing further happened. He changed his footing and reached 
  down between her legs, then his palm cupped the U at the centre and pushed it 
  firmly into contact with her straining body, sinking the beaded edges deeply 
  into the crease between her legs and torso. The upper, pin-equipped end came 
  into tentative contact with the lower edge of the cinch, then his other hand 
  came down and pressed firmly on it until the pins lined up with their holes. 
  He gave a sharp, final push on the U. The pins slid deeply into their holes 
  and another set of small clicks sounded. Christine gasped at the incredibly 
  intimate, constricted feeling that the crotch band created when it closed, unable 
  to account for the feeling that she was still exposed. She was. 

 From just over her pubic bone to well back behind her anus, the U had been 
  fashioned so that a long smoothly formed triangular opening still remained, 
  outlining her sex. Around it's inner edge was a defining lip that pressed down 
  into her body a full centimetre; while on its exterior there were three integral 
  mounts that would securely lock the next piece of hardware in place. The technician 
  reached over to the tray and picked up the assembly that would, protect, seal, 
  and punish, her. This covering plate was an exact mate to the opening in the 
  metal band now clamped between her legs. Its interior surface was endowed with 
  numerous opened catches and a hump that would press into her clitoris; but the 
  most horrific of the implements embedded in it were the three evil prongs. The 
  first was the fitting for the internal catheter, already emplaced in her bladder, 
  then immediately below that was the vaginal dildo. Behind these was the anal 
  catheter/enema attachment. He lubricated all of the inserts thoroughly, then 
  slowly began the process of fitting it to her trembling, protesting body. Christine 
  went into a paroxysm of howling rebellion when he connected the catheter fitting; 
  but it was impossible for her to resist the attachment of the uncomfortable 
  device. Then he began the insertion of her vaginal dildo. This phallic-like 
  shaft was some seven inches long and two inches in diameter; its full length 
  spirally grooved; designed to mate into the ring already mounted inside and 
  dilating her vagina. He gradually emplaced it in the prepared channel, then 
  carefully lined up its broad tip so that it wouldn't pinch the sensitive flesh. 

 Christine screamed, retching with distress at what was being done to her most 
  intimate possession; but her body no longer belonged to her! The phallus slipped 
  in towards to her core with dreadful deliberation, then stopped. Under her buttocks, 
  the technician slowly adjusted the rear probe until it aligned with her back 
  passage, then pressed upwards once more. The blunt head of the highly specialized 
  butt-plug gradually shouldered past her tightly clenched sphincter and mated 
  into the retaining collar already resident inside her body, then, the entire 
  assembly began sinking once more into her quivering flesh. The back passage 
  probe had some flexibility and it gradually curved further into her bowel, causing 
  the young woman to writhe in terrorized discomfort. At her front, she felt the 
  thick vaginal dildo slowly begin to turn inside her body, forced to do so by 
  the rifling grooves of the internally mounted steel guide collar. She mewled 
  frantically from the sensation of the horrible rotation as she experienced it 
  for the first time; but not the last. Behind her, the butt plug sank deeper 
  and deeper, slowly being forced into its internal mating. At last, the plate 
  closed onto the shield already clamped into her crotch, then was pressed into 
  the sealing beading around the edges. During the whole process of it being moved 
  into contact, Christine writhed and howled with gagged discomfort; but now that 
  she was completely and utterly filled, she hung gasping in her restraints, waiting 
  for the final act as her body slowly adjusted to its newest residents. 

 The technician concentrated on her crotch plate's exterior, depressing several 
  small buttons that activated the internal latches; closing and locking them 
  through the rings in her outer vaginal lips. Her flesh was drawn painfully outwards 
  to embrace the girth of the deeply skewering shaft. The ones transfixing her 
  clitoris were the most painful. These passed through then tensioned the U shackles 
  in the sensitive bud, pulling it into a firm and unrelenting contact with the 
  clitoral stimulator/punishment nubbin so that now, no matter how she tried to 
  cringe herself away, her most sensitive flesh would remain firmly positioned 
  against, and connected to it. 

 He snapped the exterior latches closed, locking the secondary cover securely 
  in place. He ignored the tears streaming down her cheeks while he fastened the 
  crotch-plate to her Chastity Belt, for he'd fitted dozens of other females with 
  the same equipment. They'd all wept and screamed and tried to avoid their punishingly 
  tight and invasive Chastity Belts; but their tearful protests and gag-pad strangled 
  pleadings had not aided them in any way. Along the front of its otherwise smooth 
  surface, tapered, raised humps stood out; quarter inch diameter holes visible 
  at their raised ends. There was another set of these humps at the back of the 
  crotch band too, as well as a pair on each wrist and ankle cuff, and a set on 
  her collar. She was very nearly ready to be released from the table. Christine 
  struggled to accommodate herself to the new devices she wore while he slowly 
  returned the table to its 'neutral' position and eased the tension on her bindings. 
  A moment later she stood shakily beside it, staring at the looping chains that 
  controlled her life so utterly. He tugged on her leash. 

 "Come along, 130146!" 

 Christine walked slowly, with faltering steps from the Operating Theatre, 
  her grommetted nostrils flaring with gasps of distress as the things in her 
  belly exerted their control for the first time. Her fingers clenched and writhed 
  fruitlessly behind her back, desperate to get at the things locked inside her; 
  but she was not to be allowed to touch herself in any way, from now on, and 
  so she struggled along behind her captor, returning to the confinement of her 
  cell. Once they were inside he rapidly reconnected her chains and the watering/feeding 
  hoses. 

 "You'll stay here for the next day, 130146. We'll give you a short time to 
  acclimatize to your new equipment. Then it'll be time to take you for Testing." 

 With that said he walked through the door. It slid closed and locked firmly 
  behind him, leaving her alone again, ready for she knew not what. Every move 
  she made brought some type of uncomfortable sensation. She desperately tried 
  everything to ease or escape them; but nothing helped and again the tears flowed 
  freely but silently down her cheeks. They though, were not only from the physical 
  distress she was suffering; but from the certain realization that she was unable 
  to avoid what she had pledged to endure. 

 At last, she sat gingerly, silently sobbing, on the hard bench of her bed, 
  unable to avoid forcing both the anal and vaginal dildo's to sink even further 
  into her body. She couldn't get accustomed to their inexorable insertion at 
  first and so had to stand once more, moaning distractedly with their every shifting 
  twitch. 

 Hours later, after alternately sitting, standing, and slowly walking back 
  and forth in the confined cell, she settled onto one buttock, then allowed herself 
  to slowly topple over onto her side. As though he'd been watching, the technician 
  entered the cell almost immediately after she'd laid down and came over to her 
  recumbent body. 

 "Time for you to get some shut eye, 130146." He stated, looking down into 
  her steel-framed and fear-dilated eyes. "I'll fix your blinders." 

 They flipped down over her eyes, clicking securely closed, then he locked 
  her bed chains to her new bondage equipment. A moment later the door of the 
  cell hissed shut and she was alone again. Somewhere along the way sleep claimed 
  her, and she woke briefly, feeling the painful tug of the punishingly tensioned 
  fine chains clipped to the U shackles through the tips of her breasts when she 
  rolled a little too far to the side. 

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 6

 When she awoke the next morning and her eye shields were opened it was to 
  find the same man staring down at her, a leash looped in his fist. 

 "Time for your Testing." he stated, clipping it to the front ring of her collar. 

 She was completely released seconds later then pulled from the small chamber 
  that had been her temporary home. All of the disconcerting sensations that she'd 
  experienced the previous day returned with a vengeance as she was pulled in 
  terrified tears along the corridor to the Testing Chamber. Her pitifully small 
  hobbled paces were faltering and hesitant; but since there wasn't any way for 
  her to resist or speak, she struggled along in a silence broken only by the 
  bright tinkling clatter of her ankle chain. The walk was a long one, and nowhere 
  did she see any person other than herself; or any indication that there was 
  a way to get out of the subterranean maze she was a prisoner within. At last, 
  they entered an area that to all intents and purposes was a dentist's chamber 
  of horrors. 

 The Testing Area was, in reality, two rooms. The larger was thoroughly sound-proofed 
  and barren of any furniture except for a diabolical looking chair mounted on 
  a thick hydraulic piston in its centre. It resembled an old-style dental chair; 
  but had been augmented with leather straps, snap hooks, chains and their attendant 
  locks. The arms and legs were universally mounted and hydraulically remote controlled, 
  able to be swung and/or rotated to almost any orientation and the seat could 
  be tilted, rotated, or removed entirely. Hanging from a central overhead bracket 
  what seemed like dozens of coiled wires and looping hoses dangled in readiness; 
  but what caught Christine's eye immediately were the two deeply humped cups 
  that rested on the seat. She froze in place at the door, shaking her head wildly 
  in negation, knowing that all of the things she saw would soon be attached to 
  her! It was only too obvious where the deep cups would go. 

 The other room was smaller, hidden behind a large mirror, facing into the 
  larger one. Inside it, below the mirror was a complicated control panel and 
  behind it a deeply comfortable and cushioned office chair. Built into the tilted 
  surface of the panel were five coloured monitors and beneath each of these, 
  a set of recording rolls was ready to begin tracing the limits of her endurance. 
  The desk top was a mass of control knobs and slider switches that would delineate 
  the boundaries of her tolerance. 

 She fought every inch of the way to the chair; but in moments sat fastened 
  to it, squirming wildly against the tight straps and formidable locks that held 
  her in place; staring into the mirror at her pinioned body. The image of her 
  captivity was reflected cruelly back at her while he began clipping the coiled 
  wires to her restraints. Her hands had been forced into small, thick rubber, 
  half glove-like enclosures on the ends of the chair's arms; held in them by 
  the rings of her wrist cuffs being clamped into small vices so that she couldn't 
  withdraw them. Her head was also held firmly; pressed into the temple pads just 
  behind her ears by the tension on the ring at the back of her collar, it having 
  been fastened into a similar locking fitting. She could kick her legs slightly, 
  for the moment, against the looseness of their ankle cuff rings; but that was 
  the only freedom she was allotted. Her belt had been pulled against the back 
  of the seat with a doubled set of tight straps, and so she sat and watched fearfully 
  while he plugged the multitude of coiled cords into their receptacles on her 
  restraint equipment with harsh metallic clicks. One pair went to each wrist 
  and ankle cuff and another two connections were made on either side of her collar. 
  Four more of the cords came to her waist and clicked firmly into the mounts 
  there, then an additional three were plugged into receptacles on her crotch 
  band. Next, he mounted a dozen pick-up pads all over her bald skull, gluing 
  them firmly to the naked skin. She shivered violently. 

 He pulled a squeeze tube from a pocket of his lab coat, opened it and then, 
  with deliberate casualness squeezed a large dollop of a bluish tinted gel onto 
  his fingers. Whistling tunelessly to himself, as though this was an everyday 
  occurrence, he began spreading the odourless concoction over her goose bumped 
  breasts. She shivered violently, even now not prepared to have some strange 
  man's fingers caress and manipulate her flesh so intimately. During this part 
  of her preparation, he casually pinched and kneaded her nipples around their 
  steel impalements while he ensured that each feminine mound was completely covered 
  by the gel. It was humiliating in the extreme and definitely painful; but she 
  couldn't stop or resist him. Finally he finished, then turned away and picked 
  up the two deep cups, cradling them in one arm against his body, while with 
  his other he reached up and pulled down a set of three hoses. Two snapped into 
  fittings at the apex of the cup and the other into a fitting near the rim. Again 
  he reached upward, paused for a moment while inspecting the mass of dangling 
  coil cords, then selected one and pulled it down to snap into a connection point, 
  also at the apex. The same process was quickly repeated for the other cup, then 
  he placed both in her lap and disappeared into the other room for a few seconds. 
  Just before he returned to her, a strong hissing sound began to emanate from 
  the two bullet shaped hemispheres resting on her thighs; but she couldn't look 
  down to see them. He came back to her and picked up each one, holding them facing 
  towards her chest, then slowly positioned the open ends just in front of but 
  not touching her slick, out-thrust, ringed and trembling breasts. She stared 
  helplessly and silently up at him, terrified at what he was about to do. 

 "You won't like these very much I'm afraid, my dear." he muttered, moving 
  them closer to the globular, fleshy badges of femininity. 

 Christine tried desperately to shrink herself away from the approaching horrors; 
  but there was no avoiding the opened and gaping maws. As soon as they came into 
  contact with her slicked skin, they greedily sucked themselves all the way onto 
  her large breasts and began strongly dragging at the sensitive flesh. Both of 
  her heaving mounds immediately began to balloon deeply into the cups, while 
  at their tips, the pins protruding from the centres of her nipples passed between 
  the irised-open jaws of small clamping vices. These, now activated, quickly 
  snared closed into the grooves around the tips of the exposed pins, locking 
  her breasts and nipples firmly within the torturing confinements. They withdrew 
  slightly, tensioning her sensitive flesh by means of pulling on the interior 
  barbed arms embedded in the tissue and she screamed hysterically into her gag 
  at the horrid sensation, twisting her upper body frantically, trying to shake 
  the sucking, locked-on monstrosities loose. They didn't budge. The cups bottom 
  edge beading now pressed deeply into her flesh, hard against her ribs, sealed 
  in place by the strong vacuum. Nor did they stop their painful pulsations. Her 
  eyes snapped widely open. He was right: she hated them! Hated them!! 

 Now, he picked up a heavy, black, rubber surgical air mask, then brought it 
  up, covering her nose, gagged mouth, and most of the rest of her face. A thickly-strapped 
  head harness soon had the horrid thing pressed tightly, forcing her to breathe 
  the air being pumped into the cloying mask. It would feed her a continual stream 
  of oxygen or ether-laced air, depending on which reactions she was to be tested 
  for. A set of feeding and watering hoses clipped to their mounts on the exterior, 
  then he added her air hoses. She'd be kept in the chair for the entire four 
  days of testing. 

 The seat dropped away, leaving her steel-divided buttocks readily available. 
  He pulled up another pair of hoses and snapped them into the mounts on the crotch: 
  her waste lines. Yet more hoses followed but he didn't explain their purpose. 
  She'd find out soon enough. 

 "OK, 130146. You're ready. You'll be kept here for four days," he jovially 
  informed her of her fate, "then we'll put you into short term storage until 
  your Sarcophagus is ready. Now, just hang on a few more seconds, while I close 
  your eye-shields and put the headphones on. Then we'll see how much you can 
  handle." He spoke to her as though the procedure was going to be enjoyable! 

 Christine whined despairingly deep under the covering of the face-obscuring 
  mask, then his gloved hands reached out and flipped the black rubber lined steel 
  shutters closed over her eyes once more. Her entire face was now concealed beneath 
  an insectile, mechanical enclosure. She quested blindly for even the tiniest 
  chink of light; but found that she was utterly blind. Suddenly, all sound disappeared 
  when the Technician slipped the deeply quieting domes over her ears, then allowed 
  them to clamp themselves firmly to the sides of her head. She felt him tightening 
  their securing straps and she was left alone to sit; blind, deaf, chained; utterly 
  helpless and completely vulnerable to what was to happen next. 

 He walked from the room, leaving the young woman to wait in burgeoning terror, 
  securely fastened into her Testing Chair. The thickly sound-proofed door closed 
  and locked behind him and he settled into the chair in the Observation Booth 
  with a sigh. The computerized controls quickly came on-line and for a moment 
  or two he stared intently into the central monitor, then his fingers began to 
  dance nimbly over the keyboard. Some two minutes later, he sat back and stared 
  thoughtfully through the large window at the shivering, strapped down female 
  in the other room. 

 "Really," he mused to himself, "what with wearing all that stuff, she didn't 
  look much like a woman at all. The face-obscuring mask and cage fastened around 
  and into her head from identifying her. She had become only a vaguely female 
  thing. Of course the cups covering her upper chest gave one the impression that 
  the body was female; but that could be a false impression and the body could 
  just as easily be that of a male." That thought disturbed him and so he returned 
  his concentration to her image, wondering what she would experience and how 
  much it would hurt. 

 Slowly the chair began to recline, then its arms separated to the sides and 
  rotated until Christine's own limbs were pulled back and above her head; held 
  under tension as they extended. Below the seat, the leg rests also separated 
  at the same time and the two sections grew slightly longer then began to spread 
  apart. She screamed against her gag when this occurred; but she couldn't resist 
  the power of the hydraulic pressure that was manipulating the chair. A moment 
  later she lay semi-reclining and spread into a vulnerable X of fearsomely machine 
  endowed and bound femininity. The resemblance to an execution chamber didn't 
  escape the technician; but again, he'd prepared and observed all sorts of females 
  going through this process before, and now really could care less about how 
  the confined women reacted to their terrible testing. She was just another female 
  body. His finger hovered over the "Enter" button for more long introspective 
  seconds, then descended unerringly. 

 At first Christine felt nothing. 

 Then, the electricity began to flow. 

 Her hands and fingers writhed in a dance of distress under their thick rubber 
  glove-like coverings, then her legs twitched spasmodically against their tensioning 
  chains when her muscles were convulsed with sharp and continuous twinges of 
  electro-shock. Her neck suddenly felt as though someone was piercing it with 
  dozens of ragged-edged needles when the electrodes in the welded-closed collar 
  began to ignite, forcing continual intense screams, cries, and pleadings for 
  it to stop to surge against her deeply plunging gag- pad. Her chained limbs 
  jerked and shivered against their bindings as the readings climbed higher and 
  higher on the monitors in the Control Room; but her 'testing' had only just 
  commenced. Suddenly, inside her mouth, her tongue was painfully spasmed by a 
  lengthy series of irresistible, curdling electrical pulses and she would have 
  swallowed it had it not been so securely fastened to her gagging device. More 
  squalling screams strove to escape her collared throat; but only soft wails 
  from under the tightly clamped face mask filtered into the silent, sound proofed 
  Testing Chamber. 

 The suckling at her breasts rose slowly from its initial mild level until 
  she felt as though her nipples would be torn completely from her body and she 
  screamed more and more wildly at the agonizing sensations of the constant pulsation. 
  Deep in her crotch, the vaginal dildo seemed to shrink within itself, withdrawing 
  outwards in a slow, twisting, spiral. To her horror, it began a deliberate, 
  forced re-entry into her innermost being, rotating slowly; then faster and faster 
  as it inserted itself deeply into her loins. At its bulleted tip, small, blunt 
  vanes extruded. They pushed outwards just a couple of millimetres into the shivering 
  flesh surrounding them, and she felt their intimate swirling caress deep in 
  her uterus as the dildo withdrew and was then slowly forced inwards again, lubricating 
  itself freely. A scream of terror erupted from her central being as the pace 
  of the insistent mechanical rape continued then began to speed up! The dildo 
  pistoned in and out of her body, beginning to vibrate fiercely, driving her 
  to shivering fits of howling rebellion, and then ecstasy. In her behind, the 
  plug there also began a weird mechanical whirring and vibration. 

 The chair was not static. Its arms, back, seat, and legs slowly rotated to 
  new positions, then further stretched her limbs and body. At some points she 
  was held widely spread-eagled, and at others folded into incredibly punishing 
  configurations that only a well-practised contortionist should have attempted. 

 Her program maintained all of these levels for the next hour, driving Christine 
  into wild orgasmic fits and screaming paeans of incredible discomfort, fighting 
  against her bonds in desperate attempts to pull free of the awful devices attached 
  to and inside her body, adding her own endorphins to the witch's brew of sensations 
  assaulting her mind. Orgasm followed incredible orgasm as her limits were plumbed 
  to the ultimate depths that could be managed for a human female, then came the 
  next step. 

 She was in the middle of a welter of screaming release when the computer added-in 
  the first series of pain-limit testing pulses. At first, the shocks into her 
  breasts and nipples were an additional source of stimulation; but they soon 
  became far too strong to add anything to her arousal. She dropped from her orgiastic 
  Nirvana into a harsh and horrifying reality; screaming frantically against her 
  gag; trying to beg someone, anyone! to remove the punishing cups from her pain-lanced 
  breasts. In her loins at her clitoris, sudden new needling ripples of electricity 
  were unleashed and she went rigid with agony, her eyes snapping open inside 
  the blackness of her imprisoning head cage while the rippling shocks raged unchecked 
  through the tender and supersensitized flesh. In combination with the thrusting 
  of the dildo, it's deep vibration, and now convulsing pulses of electricity, 
  Christine fainted from sensory overload. 

 When she did, the computer sensed the flattening of her brainwave patterns 
  and slowly shut down all of the active systems, allowing time to recover from 
  the testing, so far. All of her reactions were recorded, even as she lay gasping 
  and returning to 'normal'. She gradually returned to awareness. Then, the entire 
  sequence started over again, continuing unabated until she once more reached 
  the pinnacle of female endurance, then passed beyond it to unconsciousness. 
  The increasingly painful cycles repeated endlessly until she thought that she'd 
  go utterly mad with being so confined and vulnerable to the depredations of 
  the uncaring computer program. For ninety-six hours, Christine had descended 
  into a dazed state that threatened to erase her previous self. After the first 
  four she forgot that she'd ever been anywhere else, and after eight had almost 
  lost the ability to recognize that she was a human female. At long last, the 
  processing was completed and the computer records of her capabilities and limits 
  were on file. 

 During this time her trials had been observed, for two hours, by the Warden 
  and the Prosecutor, as they'd requested, and they watched with fascinated horror 
  while she was made to jerk, shiver, and writhe soundlessly and hysterically 
  against her restraints. It was the first time that either of them had ever seen 
  what the results of their decisions led to and both vowed to themselves that 
  they would return. They were utterly unable to imagine the uniquely female-oriented 
  torments Christine was enduring, even though the technician took considerable 
  delight in telling them in great detail what was being done to his subject. 
  They left the Establishment thanking their tribal gods that they had not been 
  created as women. 

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 7

 Two Guards came into the cell with a Gurney and quickly released the quiescent 
  young woman, lifted her lolling and unconscious body onto the mobile bed and 
  fastening her to it. Christine was wheeled back to the Hospital and returned 
  to her cell and bed. As always, she was fastened to it with the bed chains, 
  then they removed her gag, the ear plugs, nose rods, and finally the head cage 
  that had so frightened and controlled her. She lay semi-conscious, licking her 
  lips with her ringed tongue, then fell into a deep and restful sleep. 

 When she awoke next, it was as though she'd suffered an extremely bad nightmare. 
  She struggled to sit up. 

 "No! Nononono! Please God, don't let it be true ....'" she wailed. Weeping 
  with fear she tore away the sheet to look down at herself. 

 It was true though. 

 Her breasts were indeed tipped with thick U shackles; their sturdy little 
  chains dangling, now, to connect to the side rings of her cinch. Her waist and 
  loins were deeply imprisoned within a horribly efficient chastity device, and 
  struggle as she could with her chained hands, there was no way to free herself 
  of any of the terrible devices locked onto, and, inside her body. Her collar, 
  cuffs, and the belt were seamless fixtures that could not be removed and she 
  knew that they had been placed on her to render her totally controllable. When 
  she frantically kicked the covers from the bed, it was only to see the short 
  chain between her ankles; its central link connected by another leashing set 
  of links to a sturdy ring at the foot of the steel-framed bed. Between her legs, 
  thick black hoses were plugged into the wide steel band covering her crotch, 
  snaking down uncomfortably between them to disappear over the foot of the bed. 
  She desperately wanted to sit up; but when she moved too far forward, the chain 
  locked to the back of her collar snapped tight and she was forced to realize 
  that she couldn't even do that! Side chains, fastened to her cinch above her 
  hips, kept her centred on the thick black rubber sheet. Her cries of despairing 
  denial eventually attracted one of the white-coated members of the staff. 

 "Ah! Back with us I see." he smiled at her through the bars of the narrow 
  cell door. "You'll be pleased to hear that you've added your bit to the data 
  stream on the pain tolerances of Caucasian females, 130146." 

 "Ohhhh, pleeaatthhe? Pleathe, thake me outh of here." Christine begged in 
  wild tears; suddenly aware of the things that had been done to her tongue when 
  she spoke. 

 "Surely, you must know that that's impossible, 130146. Up to this point, all 
  we've done is prepare you. There's a long time to go before you're freed, if 
  you ever are." he smiled evilly "We've some extra tests that Admin. wants us 
  to run, then after those, why it'll be time to put you into your Sarcophagus. 
  We'll be bringing in your meal shortly." 

 He turned and strode quickly away, leaving her still chained to her bed. She 
  collapsed onto the slick, rubber-covered mattress and tried to bring her chained 
  hands up to her face. They only moved three inches, the total length of freedom 
  now permitted her. The only good thing that had happened was that she was no 
  longer kept constantly gagged and forced to accept the ear and nose penetrators. 
  The very first thing she'd done when her wrists had been freed of their strict 
  confinement to her belt was to try and gently cradle her full breasts to inspect 
  the new adornments at their tips; but the chains securing her wrists were far 
  too short. The only thing she could manage was a gentle tugging on the lines 
  from her nipples. This only resulted in sharp pain from the sensitive flesh, 
  even with only the gentle tension she placed on them. She felt the posts and 
  their internal securements in the masses of her breast tissue pull on the surrounding 
  flesh and moaned at the indescribable feeling of being held so intimately a 
  prisoner of her own body. She stopped her manipulations instantly, realizing 
  with horror how easily she could be controlled by them. Christine couldn't look 
  far enough down to see any of her breast bondage jewellery, thanks to her high 
  collar, and there was no mirror provided in the cell. The rings and anchoring 
  assemblies proved to be as permanent and painfully irremovable as she'd been 
  told they would be. 

 She wasn't allowed to get used to her situation. After her next sleep period, 
  two lab-coated technicians arrived in her cell. The first entered and freed 
  her of her bed chains, yet she was still leashed. 

 "Move to the centre of the room, under the leash attachment, 130146." 

 She did as he commanded. The second man came into the room, bringing with 
  him a five foot long spreader bar and another evilly glinting thick shaft, then 
  he returned to the corridor. With a small clattering of links, the leash to 
  the back of her collar began to disappear into the hole in the ceiling. 

 "Hold it for a moment!" the one with her called as the leash began to draw 
  tight, then he picked up the long spreader bar and clipped it to the chain, 
  just above her head. "Now, 130146, when I release each wrist, I'm going to attach 
  it to the spreader bar. If you resist, you'll be punished quite painfully. You 
  can avoid that, so make up your mind." 

 "What choice do I have?" she asked herself and so nodded her head fractionally 
  in submission. 

 Seconds later she stood with both arms spread and loosely chained to the ends 
  of the bar. Two longer chains also dangled from its ends and these were rapidly 
  clipped to the sides of her cinch. Christine stood shivering, watching him while 
  he brought out two more lengths of glittering links, connected them to widely 
  separated ring bolts in the floor, then to the outer rings of her ankle cuffs. 
  "What were they going to do to me!!?" she wondered fearfully. 

 "OK! Take her up slowly." 

 The chains began tightening again. The ones fastened to her cinch sprang tight 
  and suddenly, Christine became airborne. The weight of her upper body made her 
  rotate forwards until her arms were drawn slightly behind her and upwards. At 
  the same time, the one to the back of her collar sprang taut, keeping her looking 
  forward at the featureless wall. A grunt of surprised distress and a wordless 
  wail of fear came from her as the chain tightened further and she was drawn 
  higher into the air. Finally, she stopped rising and the other technician appeared. 
  The two of them moved to the tethers connected to her ankle cuffs and after 
  disconnecting her punishingly short hobble, slowly tightened them until her 
  legs were spread wide. 

 Christine dangled in mid-air before them, her raised hips and forward leaning 
  torso vulnerably waiting for whatever they planned to do. She couldn't stop 
  the small groans of terror that sprang from her throat as her nightmare continued. 
  They moved in front of her and she stared at them with fear dilated eyes. 

 "Now comes the next addition to your discipline and control equipment, 130146." 
  one of them said, holding up the long silvery shaft so that she could see it. 
  "It's called an Inhibitor Bar, and you'll wear it from now on as an additional 
  means of control and discipline. It won't so much hurt as restrict what you 
  can do quite severely." 

 Without further words, he disappeared behind her back, then a second later 
  she felt a very solid mechanical joining, deep between her widely spread and 
  quivering thighs. "That wasn't so bad." she thought. 

 But that wasn't the end of her travail. When they came back around to her 
  front they stood contemplating their suspended charge for a moment, then one 
  of them reached out to her dangling metal tipped breasts and slowly grasped 
  their nipple connected chains. 

 They released the lines keeping her legs spread and she let them hang down, 
  motionless, glad to have herself freed of the embarrassing separation; but, 
  now, between her knees and crotch, she could feel the Bar nestling betwixt her 
  legs. It felt strange to have something there that she had never expected to 
  feel, she thought hoped that she'd be able to get used to it, in time. Her thoughts 
  turned to bitter ashes seconds later when one of the men reconnected her hobble, 
  running its chain through the ring at the tip of the Bar, then they also connected 
  the floor leash to the same ring! One of them, behind her, flipped this tether 
  and she felt the Bar shift back and forth between her legs, stirring the dildo 
  far up in her loins. A startled gasp tore from her throat as she was made aware 
  of the awful potential of this newest restraint device. A moment later she stood 
  again on her high heel shod feet and they quickly released her from the suspension 
  chains and spreader bar assembly, returning her collar leash to its former length. 
  After a final check of all her locks, she was left alone once more. 

 Christine stood for a minute, jerking her hands against the wrist chains, 
  then took a tentative step. As soon as she did, the Bar made its presence felt 
  again! With each succeeding pace, the short hobble chain tugged firmly on the 
  long shaft, pulling its tip back and forth between her ankles even as it slid 
  through the ring! She stopped her slow movement and another wail of despair 
  issued from her throat as she realized that she couldn't escape the Bar's insidious 
  motions. When she tried to bend forward to look at her newest discipline equipment, 
  the long shaft swung backwards between her legs until snubbed by her hobble 
  chains, making the interior portion shift yet again; eliciting another moan 
  of discomfort and despair from her. Christine's knees trembled with the shock 
  of the horribly intimate and unceasing control it subjected her to and her legs 
  began to fold. That was stopped when the tip of the 'Bar rammed into the unforgiving 
  concrete, sending the shock of the impact deeply up into her body! She had stand, 
  and quickly realized that she could only bend her legs a little before the 'Bar 
  once again hit the floor. With that realization came the corollary awareness 
  that she now would be unable to sit down either! How she was to recline for 
  sleep or get back to her feet once down was a mystery that she couldn't resolve. 
  For more long moments she stood as a statue in the centre of the cell, weeping 
  quietly, her chained hands held up towards her face and shoulders shaking her 
  trembling, chain and ring-tipped breasts. 

 Three days later she was still getting used to the ensemble's intimately limiting 
  affect on her life. 

 Now they were taking her to her fate. Two guards had come into her cell and 
  locked her wrists to the back ring of the cinch, clipped long chains to the 
  ring at the tip of the 'Bar, then released her floor and collar leashes. One 
  walked out in front of her and pulled gently on his leash, making the dildo 
  surge within her, eliciting a gasp of terror, and with a wail of distress she'd 
  had to follow him from the cell. It was an humiliating and superbly controlling 
  arrangement, for behind, the other guard stood silently, slowly paying out the 
  chain that he held, then, when it had tightened in his hand, he followed, bringing 
  up the rear of the little procession. She was kept isolated and helpless between 
  them. Christine's feet danced along in mincing, limited little steps, snubbed 
  at every one by the ten inch long hobble chain threaded through the tip ring. 

 Even though she'd thought that she would eventually become used to wearing 
  the 'Belt and the horridly restrictive 'Bar, it hadn't happened. It did precisely 
  what its name stated, restricting her in everything she did. At the same time 
  it also ensured that she was constantly reminded of her vulnerability and her 
  femaleness. It was bad enough that she was hobbled and had her hands cuffed 
  behind her back again; but did they have to make her captivity so demanding? 

 Eventually, after a searing fifteen minute walk through the maze of corridors, 
  they entered the barren, brightly-lit chamber in which she was to be emplaced 
  in her Sarcophagus. Inside, the room contained a smaller, barred cage in which 
  there was only one object; a high, platform bed. The same lab-coated technician 
  that had attended her in the Testing Chamber stood beside it, waiting. Really, 
  it was almost an altar; but what caught her immediate attention was the shape 
  secured to the rubber-covered foam mattress. It looked to be an elongated teardrop 
  of gleaming black tar that had flowed over a woman's body. The most prominent 
  features had been smoothed into the over-all profile and appeared to have solidified 
  with the narrow end bent up and bluntly curved. This gleaming case was some 
  seven feet long and held in place on the 'altar' by heavy straps from shiny 
  loops along the sides to others mounted on the sides of the high platform. The 
  guards locked the door immediately after entering the cage and drew her over 
  to it. 

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 8

 "This is your Sarcophagus, 130146." the one in charge stated in an unemotional 
  voice while fastening her 'Bar leashes to floor-level rings on its base. 

 The attachment points were hopelessly beyond her reach, even if her hands 
  had been free; but just to ensure that she understood how helpless she was to 
  resist, the two guards remained in the cell, standing with their backs against 
  one of the barred walls, watching the proceedings intently. 

 The technician lifted off the heavy, thick top of the gleaming black container 
  and laid it on the floor. "You'll be confined in this then remain there to complete 
  your 'Therapy'. You may look inside." 

 Up to this point, Christine had hung back at the limits of her leashes, shivering 
  and terrified to even approach the sinister shape that lay waiting to receive 
  her. 

 "Come, come 130146!" he said heartily. "Nothing to be afraid of, for the moment. 
  You may as well have a peek before we put you in it, just to see what it looks 
  like." 

 She pranced fearfully closer with a jingling of her hobble chain and looked 
  inside the shiny carapace. A week had passed since a full body cast had been 
  made, and now its purpose was made manifestly clear. She quailed, inspecting 
  what lay revealed. Within the thick-walled aluminium shell, isolated by a two 
  inch thick layer of foamed rubber, she saw the perfect shape of her own body, 
  covered with intricate patterns of shiny, two centimetre diameter, smooth buttons, 
  inlaid all over the interior; but before she could divine their purpose, he 
  spoke again. 

 "Hold still after your hands, hobble, and leash are unlocked. Then we'll get 
  you into it." 

 "P-p-p-pleathe, thir? I-I-I d-d-don'th ..." she stammered, her altered speech 
  pattern embarrassing her even yet, while burgeoning panic made her stammer. 
  She continued to inspect the obviously confining and isolating device. There 
  was to be no escaping her fate. The cell was locked, as was the door beyond, 
  and she was securely chained and leashed. 

 "130146, what you want or don't want no longer matters." He stated emotionlessly. 
  "It's going to happen, so you might as well get used to the idea." He kicked 
  one of the taunt leashes to the shaft between her legs for emphasis of her helplessness. 
  It's inner portion twitched evilly. 

 "Oooohhh!! Uuunnnhhh!!!" she wailed, twisting against her bonds as it oscillated 
  weirdly within her loins. "Ahhhhrrggg! Pleathe! Pleathe! Pleathe!! I-I-I'll 
  be good!! Justht don'th do thath again! Plleeeaatthhee! Pleathe!!! Ooooaaahh!" 
  she wailed when he repeated his kick to reinforce his message of control. 

 "Very well. Hold still while I unlock everything. I'll want you to lay back 
  as you've been instructed when we pick you up. Now, I'm going to disconnect 
  the caps from your catheter tubes." The guards moved over to stand with her 
  between them, waiting. 

 "Y-y-yeth, th-thir." she whimpered, standing completely still. She felt the 
  small pops when the fittings were removed and listened to the well-oiled clicks 
  of her locks being released; blushing with glowing embarrassment. 

 The guards scooped her up and she lay back in their arms, cuffed wrists loosely 
  in her steel banded lap, trembling uncontrollably with the thoughts of what 
  was to come. Christine was supported under the shoulders, their other arms under 
  her knees, above the shaft of the Inhibitor Bar projecting outwards from the 
  shiny steel that sealed and imprisoned her sex. They slowly lowered her into 
  the coolness of the rubber-lined interior, then the one in charge spoke again 
  while she continued to make small moans of discomfort. 

 "Hold still, 130146. It's time to insert your ear plugs." These had been lubricated 
  with more of the slick gel and slipped easily and deeply into place, obliterating 
  nearly all sound. He carefully rotated them until they were completely seated. 

 "Wriggle until you feel everything snug against you." he said in a loud voice, 
  close to her face. Christine heard his voice as a very faint whisper, then did 
  as she was told. It felt as though the mould was sucking itself onto her entire 
  body and that she was sinking deeper and deeper into the encasement! The Sarcophagus 
  had not, in fact, been split exactly along the longitudinal central line; but 
  somewhat above it. In effect, she was fitting herself into the larger part and, 
  really, she was being absorbed into its interior! When her steel-wrapped loins 
  dropped into place in the waist, she felt a series of subtle snaps as fittings 
  on her crotch-band clipped into their connectors. The technician walked slowly 
  around the platform then pushed her arms down into their separate slots. As 
  they settled into these, held slightly away from her body, her hands slipped 
  all the way inside the integral glove-like receptacles buried within the matrix 
  of the aluminium casting. Inside, her fingers slid slowly into their snug, separate, 
  tubes and she immediately found that she couldn't move them even a millimetre. 
  Her wide steel wrist cuffs had been forced into grooves inside the arm slots 
  and the men quickly flipped the outer, steel retaining latches into place, clamping 
  her hands and fingers firmly into their restricting, isolating gloves. Five 
  centimetre wide rubber straps were quickly snared around her arms, above and 
  below her exposed elbows, and in seconds both arms had been rendered barely 
  capable of movement. She could only flex her muscles against the constriction 
  of the straps now, and when she tried to sit up, desperately wanting out, the 
  arm bondage alone held her down. When she tried to arch her body, it was only 
  to feel the intruder in her loins twitch alarmingly, again, thus forcing her 
  to lay back with a wordless, despairing moan; trembling as though she had a 
  severe case of chills. 

 For a moment she was allowed to keep her knees bent, the soles of her feet 
  resting in the separate depressions for her calves; but the two men shifted 
  their position and in seconds had straightened her legs, sliding her feet fully 
  into the enclosed and awkward shoe portions at the bottom ends of the leg slots. 
  They locked her ankle cuffs into their grooves with more latches, then rapidly 
  tightened wide rubber straps around each of her legs; below the knee and halfway 
  up her thighs; holding each one in its own deep depression. Her feet, once the 
  leg straps and latches were fastened, were forced fully into their shoes. These 
  though, were not ordinary footwear and she recalled with horror that they'd 
  made her wear those crazy ballet-type boots when she'd been cast. These had 
  been faithfully recreated within the smooth-surfaced metal, and now her feet 
  were locked firmly into a high, arched confinement that was soon to become extremely 
  uncomfortable. When her legs were pulled down by the tightening straps, she 
  discovered a weird interior addition within the shoes. Her toes had, each slipped 
  into separate confinement tubes, and she couldn't move them now either! In addition, 
  the Inhibitor Bar nestled deeply in its own central recess; the bottom six inches 
  of the tip having slipped into a socket between her ankles where it too was 
  locked in place by more security latches. The result was awful! A small cry 
  pulsed up her collared throat while she struggled to make her limbs move; but 
  of course nothing at all happened. At her waist, more of the securing latches 
  clipped onto the waiting rings of her Chastity Belt's waistband and her buttocks 
  settled firmly into their waiting, formed hemispheres. 

 At chest level, on the right side of the mould that held her, a very wide, 
  thick, rubber strap had already been clipped to an interior loop. It was drawn 
  quickly around her heaving chest. Located on this wide band, in the portion 
  that would cover her trembling breasts, were two, three inch diameter, reinforced-edge 
  apertures. The technician clipped the free end of the chest band to fittings 
  on the left side, then with a quick jerk, drew the rubber stricture much more 
  tightly around her chest. A second later, he hooked his fingers through the 
  nipple shackles and slowly pulled upwards, drawing her breasts out through the 
  thick, wide O-ring collars, making her scream wildly from the tension on her 
  nipples and the drag of the anchors buried deep in the masses of her breast 
  tissue. The collars slipped slowly down and over her bulging, strained fleshy 
  mounds, then snared firmly around their bases, tight against her ribs, thus 
  keeping each breast forced outwards by its two centimetre wide collar. She felt 
  them immediately begin to engorge with blood from the garrotting effect, increasing 
  a hundred fold in sensitivity. Christine could also see them swelling with sensitizing 
  and oxygen-carrying blood, jiggling with the slight movements of her panicky 
  indrawn breaths and exhalations. The jerking and tension on her nipples had 
  been very bad; but this soon became horribly worse; for there was no way for 
  her to release herself from the unceasing strangling sensation. 

 It was horrible. 

 The white-coated technician seemed satisfied with her bindings to this point. 
  He moved to her head and connected other latches to her collar so that her neck 
  too was firmly locked down into the Sarcophagus. Her ears were next, and he 
  flicked their rings into fittings that placed a slight but unignorable tension 
  on them. 

 Eyes brimming, she could now only look straight up at the white-painted concrete 
  ceiling while they proceeded with her encapsulation. Sound-deadening muffs, 
  built into the helmet portion of the Sarcophagus, were unlatched from their 
  springs and they immediately pressed themselves firmly against the sides of 
  her head, covering her ears and their bondage completely, thus doubly ensuring 
  that she was utterly deafened. For long moments all she heard was the faint 
  swishing of her own blood, then even that died away to nothingness when the 
  noise elimination system in her ear plugs was activated. Eventually, his voice 
  came to her, faintly at first, then gaining in volume until she thought that 
  he was somewhere between her ears, although she could see him standing over 
  her with a boom-type microphone coming from an ear piece, around his face to 
  just in front of his lips. 

 "Well, 130146, we're about halfway there." he stared unsmilingly down at her. 
  "I want you to blink your eyes once if you hear and understand me." 

 Her eyes flicked with a blink of acknowledgment. 

 "Good! Now, it's time to fit you with your facial restraint harness. I'll 
  be back in a sec. with it." 

 Again, all sound cut off and she lay within the opened casing, quivering within 
  her bondage, totally deaf, waiting helplessly. He disappeared from her more-and-more 
  limited field of view. While he was gone, she started to writhe fiercely against 
  her multiple restraints, trying to find the slightest bit of freedom. 

 There wasn't any. 

 He returned long minutes later with a menacing, glistening, very thick, flexible 
  web draped over the palm of his rubber-gloved right hand. The sound snapped 
  on again. 

 "This portion of you restraints has been specially treated so that it'll bond 
  directly into your flesh after being in contact for about two minutes, 130146. 
  Eventually, it may come off; but to this point experiments have indicated that 
  when the skin under the web flakes off, it seems to renew its chemical bond, 
  making anything other than surgical removal, with its consequent scaring, virtually 
  impossible. Even if you had your hands and fingers free, you wouldn't be able 
  to tear it off your face." 

 Looking at the slippery horror in his hands was too much for Christine. She 
  screamed with revulsion, begging to be freed and pleading with him not to put 
  the horrible thing on her. The combination of the sound elimination design of 
  the plugs and the heavy domes clamped over her ears efficiently prevented her 
  from hearing her own voice and she felt as though she'd been struck dumb. There 
  was virtually no hope of avoiding the slithery web-work and terrorized tears 
  trickled from her eyes as the thick rubbery network gradually descended. Its 
  first touch was from the wide band he carefully laid across her forehead. It 
  felt kind of gooey and a slight tingling twitched her skin when the bonding 
  process commenced. Unknown to her, and not really felt as more than the mild 
  tingling, microscopic tendrils from the inner surface of the rubbery facial 
  harness slid into her pores then penetrated deeply into the interstices of the 
  underlying tissue, anchoring the device deeply, and apparently, permanently. 

 At the centre, between her staring terror-filled eyes, an upside down V of 
  thick straps filled the slight hollow, then widened out to cover her cheeks 
  on either side of her nose, flowing down over her face and around her mouth. 
  Above the outer corners of her eyes the forehead strap widened and descended 
  to join with the ones on either side of her nose, thus forming lopsided, though 
  symmetrical to each other; large, round-cornered, triangular apertures around 
  them. Just below her fear-flared nostrils, a narrow cross-strand pressed firmly 
  onto her upper lip, isolating her nose. He slowly went over the entire facial 
  harness, pressing its thick web firmly against her skin. She found, when he'd 
  finished, that the straps were so thick that they actually isolated each eye 
  from the other in a deep well! Satisfied at last that all of the inner surfaces 
  were in fact bonding fully to her skin, he began clipping the loose locking 
  connectors to their latches on the inner sides of her head encasement. The ones 
  below her cheeks were the first to be fastened and tightened. They had the effect 
  of pressing the eye-surrounding straps even more firmly against her cheek bones, 
  then came the ones at her temples, and they too increased the pressure on the 
  quickly cementing straps even further. The forehead straps were clipped down 
  and although the pressure wasn't great, it was unrelenting; clamping her head 
  firmly into its slightly resilient hollow. The last, a wide, slightly-cupped 
  strap, went up and back from the centre of her forehead, over her naked scalp, 
  and was firmly tensioned to its fitting, holding her head down hard, completely 
  immobilized. 

 Below, her body shivered with revulsion at the sensation of the horrid device 
  fastening itself irremovably to her face and scalp and tears continued to pool 
  in the wells surrounding her eyes, blurring her vision. The tingling of her 
  skin where it was covered by the restraint harness continued for a short time, 
  then slowly disappeared. She shuddered yet again from the sensation of the leech-like 
  network fastening itself into her flesh. His voice returned. 

 "Open your mouth, 130146." He commanded, "It's time now for your tongue restraint 
  system to be fitted." he held up a small, complicated, stainless steel, dental 
  appliance. 

 "Pleathe! Pleathe! Pleathe, thir! Pleathe, don'th make me wear thath awful 
  thing!" she begged while he opened the little catches on the inverted and round-topped 
  A that would control her last freedom, or so she thought, at that point. 

 "Open your mouth now and stick out your tongue!" came the implacable command. 

 Numbly, she did as he ordered and his latex-gloved hands moved the device 
  towards her mouth. She felt one arm of the A pass through the small sturdy rings 
  imprisoning the tip of her tongue, compressing the contained flesh uncomfortably, 
  then it slipped slowly through the three rings mounted deeply along the right 
  side. She almost retched, then moaned frantically while he slowly and carefully 
  fitted the other arm of the A into the rings on the left side. These slipped 
  into their catches with barely felt clicks; but she knew that they were held 
  in place so securely that without assistance she'd never rid herself of the 
  horridly intimate restraint. Halfway along, the wide crossbar pressed down into 
  her slightly flattened and strained organ and she tried to surge her tongue 
  away from it, even though unknowing of what was to come next. She felt him grasp 
  the top spheres of the short, thick-posted barbells that pierced the muscle 
  on either side of centre, and move them slowly and carefully into the waiting 
  jaws of small clips on the crossbar of the A. The tension wasn't painful; but 
  it was deeply restrictive and in combination with the other connections, her 
  tongue was held, utterly incapable of curling or making any kind of movement! 
  His last act of securing her tongue, was to flip a small U down over its tip, 
  then push backwards until she felt the under portion of the thing click around 
  her under-the-tongue ring. When she tried now to push with the tip of her tongue, 
  the ring transfixing the web was puled painfully. She was, perforce commanded 
  to keep her tongue quiescent and had, in effect, been made into just a noise-making 
  being in a female body, with no way of removing her humiliating restriction. 
  With difficulty and pain from the fastenings, she swallowed convulsively to 
  get rid of her saliva; attempting to settle the stretched and useless muscle 
  within her mouth, moaning wordlessly with discomfort and fear of what was to 
  come next. For the moment she could barely move her whole tongue, despite the 
  steel frame stretching it; but it flopped uselessly within her mouth. 

 He disappeared from her view again, then the two guards appeared holding the 
  top portion of the Sarcophagus between them. They slowly lowered it over her 
  strapped, chained, and steel-banded body and she felt the cold rubber liner 
  begin to clamp more and more firmly against her goose-bumped, flesh as it was 
  slowly wriggled down into place. Her ballooned breasts slipped into deep and 
  slightly compressing cups; popping past another set of thick, garrotting collars. 
  Each was now sealed into its own, airtight, encasing, torture chamber. What 
  she couldn't possibly see was that at the tip of each breast containment, there 
  was another, smaller, teat suction cup that would, once activated, draw her 
  ringed nipples and aureoles ever more strongly from her breasts, demanding impossible 
  distension of the tender flesh, thanks to the deeply embedded posts and prongs. 
  The entire inner surface of the upper portion, like the lower part was also 
  equipped with the silvery disks. By far the heaviest concentration of these 
  was around her breasts, inside the cups. 

 The upper portion covered her from the top of her head to halfway down her 
  shins, mating exactly to the lower half of the Sarcophagus. Inside, it moulded 
  to the still-exposed part of her body; but the liner had been made just a trifle 
  too large. When the top was tightened and locked closed, it would press firmly, 
  all over her body, increasing her sensation of total encasement immeasurably, 
  and ensure by its pressure that she'd not even be able to twitch. Now, the only 
  opening remaining was a heart-shaped aperture for her face. 

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 9

 Finally, he seemed happy with the positioning of the upper portion and she 
  felt the imprisoning top begin to press against her. The ratchets of the tightening 
  mechanisms made a rapid clicking when he forced it down, and there seemed to 
  be dozens of them. Of course she couldn't hear them closing, nor could she feel 
  them, thanks to her deafness and the insulating effect of the thick foamed rubber 
  inner lining of the Sarcophagus. The first that closed were the those located 
  around her legs, then the ones on either side of her hips and waist engaged 
  with a rapid clicking finality. Next came the ones on either side of her rigidly 
  held arms and chest; then he closed the final sets on either side of her neck 
  and those around her head, fully securing the entire front part of the encasement. 
  All of her fastenings inside the Sarcophagus were now locked fully away from 
  view and access so that only a gleaming black exterior was visible and even 
  the locks for the internally mounted tongues of the ratchets were barely visible 
  on the outside, thanks to their black finish and smooth mounts. The halves of 
  the covering were slowly and inexorably pressed more firmly together and further 
  ratchetting clicks sounded in the small cell until the entire length of the 
  edges was joined together in an airtight seal. He took the next minute to check 
  then lock them all securely. For brief moments she was still permitted the small 
  freedom of her sight; for a highly specialized panel had yet to be fitted into 
  the heart-shaped opening framing her terrorized face. All that could be seen 
  of it now was a few small area of skin, bound within the strict latticework 
  of the thick rubbery straps. 

 She lay there completely immobilized, staring frantically out at the world 
  from within her imprisoning Sarcophagus. The opening on the front of the helmet 
  portion emphasized her face, recessed deeply within the thick black lining, 
  sunk nearly five centimetres in the high density, foamed-rubber. Christine's 
  eyes flickered frantically back and forth, trying to see what was coming next; 
  but laying on her back with her head so far inside, she could only stare up 
  and out towards the concrete ceiling and a little to each side. In addition, 
  her peripheral vision was severely limited because of the depth of the eye-wells 
  of her facial harness. The technician returned with the final portion of her 
  containment device a moment later, and he began the process of preparing it 
  for emplacement. 

 The outer side of the face-plate was an almost featureless, slightly bulbous 
  surface that would completely fill the opening that currently allowed her her 
  only access to the outer world. The space between the convoluted inner rubber 
  lining and the smooth impervious outer aluminium shell was also, like the body, 
  filled with the dense, foamed rubber. The inner surface would mate precisely 
  to her facial features and web of restraining rubber, while on the outside only 
  a half dozen chromed fittings interrupted the gleaming expanse of the bulging 
  expanse. Around the periphery six more of the internal latches, equidistantly 
  spaced, would lock it securely closed. Four of the chromed fittings were on 
  the lower portion, the connection points for her air hoses and her water and 
  feeding tubes with the other two much smaller ones positioned about halfway 
  up the sides. 

 The inner surface of the covering was something else entirely. 

 At the position that would cover her mouth, a deeply projecting, specially 
  formed gag-pad projected, its free end tapering to a fourteen inch long throat 
  and stomach tube. Within the little pocket for her nose there were two long, 
  flexible, translucent nostril tubes. Also positioned on the inner front surface, 
  just above and to each side of the nose pocket were a pair of soft, thick pads. 
  These would mate exactly into the eye-wells of her facial restraint system, 
  designed to fit and fill them fully. 

 "I want to show you something." his voice whispered inside her head and her 
  eyes swivelled to look up at the face-plate he held with one hand and a long, 
  gleaming stainless steel rod in the other. "Now, watch." 

 He rotated the bulbous horror so that she could see, on each side and partway 
  down the curve, the flush-mounted, shiny metal grommets inset on the gleaming 
  black surface. "So what?" she thought; but only for a moment. He inserted the 
  rod into the mounting, then slid it slowly back and forth so that she could 
  see how easily it moved. The face-plate rotated and she stared in horror, up 
  into its complicated, dull black interior. Within the little pocket that would 
  soon imprison her nose, she saw the tapered, long, thick, and slippery looking 
  translucent tubes that would go into her nostrils, then to her stunned disbelief, 
  the needled tip of the long steel pin slid out of a hole on the side and through 
  pre-positioned holes in these tubes, disappearing through the other wall of 
  the nose pocket. 

 He turned the whole assembly slowly, and she saw the sharpened end of pin 
  emerge from the mounting hardware on the other side of the face plate. 

 "Once the pin has passed fully through the grommets mounted in your nose, 
  it'll be screwed into the fittings on the outer surface. At the right torque, 
  it'll snap off inside them. There's no way to get at it once that happens. Therefore, 
  the mask will be permanently locked onto your face and will have become your 
  new identity to the world. The same thing will also happen to your breasts, 
  when they're pierced again." 

 He didn't tell her that there was indeed a way to extract the rods. Her terror 
  was to be fed and played upon for the full effect of her conditioning to be 
  totally effective. She must know that she was being sealed away permanently. 

 " God!!! No! No! Nooo!" she inarticulately tried to scream, her eyes widening 
  in horror, a fresh torrent of tears pooling in the wells surrounding her eye 
  sockets. She'd never wanted to have any facial jewellery! Suddenly, confronted 
  with the inevitability of being fitted with the nostril bar, she fled into a 
  renewed, terrorized wailing; but of course could hear nothing. The howling "Nnnnoooo!!!" 
  of her despairing howl echoed only through the darkest chambers of her mind. 
  She couldn't even move her head! All she could manage to do was squinch her 
  eyes closed and pray that the procedure she'd been informed of was only to scare 
  her more than she already was. 

 Mostly, it wasn't. 

 "Very well, 130146." his voice interrupted her whirling, incoherent thoughts, 
  "It's time to fit you with this. Open your mouth!" He held the gag pad and its 
  dangling throat-tube closer to her face. 

 Struggling to resist as best she could, she pleaded desperately but incomprehensibly, 
  making her final attempt to escape her fate as her steel-encumbered tongue writhed 
  frenziedly against it's restrictions and impalements. A quavering wail tore 
  from her throat; but he disregarded the desperate sounds and the sobbing from 
  the eighteen year old woman bound and immobilized before him. Although it had 
  deeply disturbed him to see the and fear-filled faces and the steel-confined 
  bodies of young women be imprisoned inside their Sarcophagi at first; now, his 
  part in the process, no longer bothered him. Any females delivered into his 
  hands for emplacement in the horrific devices, he regarded only as prisoners 
  who were receiving their just deserts. Their terrorized pleadings and tears 
  no longer affected him while he encased then sent them off to their fates, whatever 
  they might be. 

 He lowered the final covering slowly towards her hysterical, contorted face. 
  She continued to beg; but of course could manage only to gag and shriek inarticulately, 
  thanks to the severe tongue restrictions she'd been fitted with. Then, as the 
  tip of the stomach tube moved the last inches inwards, her mouth opened in a 
  final, full-blooded scream. It was quickly choked off when he pushed the long, 
  slippery, thick and flexible hose from the back end of the gag pad between her 
  teeth and over her tongue, then slowly forced it to the back of her mouth and 
  started it down her throat. 

 "Begin swallowing!" 

 "Nnnnnyyyyaaaaagghh.... naaarrrgghh ...." she attempted to protest, retching 
  with reaction when she felt the thing begin to slide with horrible ease down 
  her oesophagus. 

 Partially sucking on it, swallowing convulsively, her mouth opened and closed 
  frantically while her immobilized tongue flailed uselessly to prevent the continuing 
  insertion; but her efforts did nothing to stop the process; in actual fact aiding 
  it. The larger and larger diametered hose slipped slowly further into her throat 
  while the formed pad came ever closer to her inarticulately working mouth. He 
  continued; pushing it past her teeth with some difficulty until the body of 
  the choke pear plopped deeply into the soft cavern. Her terrified noises ceased 
  abruptly. Inside, the upper clips on her tongue restraint appliance automatically 
  clicked with a horrifying finality into their eyes on the underside of the gag 
  pad, now fully immobilizing her tongue. Though completely efficient, the mouth 
  filler was in actual fact, since her tongue wasn't too deeply compressed, not 
  really uncomfortable to have to wear; but it stifled all of her inarticulate 
  cries utterly. She couldn't stop the retching reaction that shuddered her entrammelled 
  body, then to her added horror, the soft flexible tubes began to slowly and 
  easily slither up into her flared nostrils, penetrating deeply into her head. 

 The thickly padded lining in the helmet portion of the Sarcophagus had been 
  designed so that her mouth could open to accept the gag pad; but once closed 
  around it, the compression of the dense foamed rubber held her jaws clamped 
  firmly around its girth. For only a short moment, the whole piece rested gently 
  against her face. When fully secured, it would keep the evil things locked firmly 
  into her head, and she wouldn't possibly be able to expel them. Now, she couldn't 
  even separate her jaws enough to get the gag-pad out past her teeth! With a 
  horrible finality the face plate began then to clamp tighter and her throat 
  surged against the more and more uncomfortable penetrations of the gag and the 
  nostril tubes. The inner contours of the piece slowly imprinted themselves onto 
  what little of her flesh was still uncovered. At first, she'd closed her eyes 
  when the face- plate was positioned; but they'd snapped wide open a second later. 
  The soft pads over her eyes pushed slowly and unstoppably inwards, mating into 
  the openings of the eye-wells, then, the last sliver of light slowly pinched 
  off, leaving her to stare into an utter and totally black void. Her lashes brushed 
  against the slowly descending pads, and she automatically closed her eyes. A 
  second later the pads pressed gently against the sensitive membranes, sealing 
  them shut under inches of thick resilience. There was no stopping the process 
  and she was unable to open them again. 

 Very faintly, she felt the vibration of the ratchets on the covering plate 
  slipping through their locks, muffled slightly, then it clamped tighter and 
  tighter until she felt as if a vice had been fastened to every square millimetre 
  of her entire face. The last portions of each ratchet clicked through their 
  fittings and she knew that she was utterly sealed inside her Sarcophagus. Despite 
  the pressure of the device that penetrated and covered her face so intimately, 
  small tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes while she struggled against 
  the implacable compression. Her hidden, inner bondage could not be resisted 
  and another attempted scream of terrorized claustrophobia echoed through her 
  mind while she fought against the utter helplessness and depersonalization of 
  her encasement. 

 She could feel nothing now, other than pressure and immobility. 

 Breathing without difficulty, she wept inwardly at how helpless she'd been 
  made; almost mindless with overwhelming fear inside her rigid carapace. 

 No motions of her attempted struggling were translated to the featureless, 
  outer, shiny black surface. The technician quickly connected two corrugated 
  rubber air hoses to their fittings on the face-plate and the respiration assist 
  air pump was started, ensuring by force that she continued to breathe. The rubber-tasting 
  air hissed though the deeply inserted nostril tubes while she tried to get used 
  to the sensation of the cloying mask and harness affixed to her face and having 
  her lungs involuntarily inflated and deflated. The restrictions were so overpowering 
  that she couldn't stop the continuing wild screaming that struggled to pass 
  around the deeply plunging gag-pad and throat tube; but, of course, no sound 
  at all was heard outside the shiny casing. Her enforced enclosure in silence 
  was again interrupted by a voice from the outer world. 

 "Very good, 130146. You're fully secured now. It's time to do the piercings 
  then your Aversion Therapy will begin. As you were shown, there's one rod for 
  your nostrils and septum and another for each of your nipples. The breast piercings 
  will be set slightly deeper and at right angles to your current ones." 

 She heard nothing for a few moments and continued uselessly to attempt to 
  beg for release against her implacable gagging and feeding equipment; her face 
  muscles twitching spasmodically against the now firmly embedded facial harness. 

 The uncaring voice returned. 

 "It is time for your final Sentencing Advisory. 

 "Number 130146, you shall remain locked in your Sarcophagus for the term deemed 
  necessary by the Sentencing Authority; there to remain until your reconditioning 
  has been completed to the State's satisfaction." he read. "That completes the 
  Official portion, 130146. 

 "Let me add a few personal notes. You, young lady, will be forever changed 
  by your coming Therapy. The process to follow, as intended, will create a permanent 
  means of keeping you within your Sarcophagus, and will be accomplished by means 
  of the stainless steel needles I showed you. For the moment I'll leave the microphone 
  active, so that you can hear what's happening." 

 He connected two hoses to the apexes of each teat sucker cup on the hummocks 
  that contained and isolated her breasts, screwing them down tightly with a small 
  adjustable wrench. These looped to the floor, then crossed it to wall outlets 
  on a panel just below a set of gauges. He walked over and slowly turned a valve. 
  The doubled lines began to twitch rhythmically; although no sound was heard 
  inside the cell. She didn't feel the vibrations of these hoses being connected 
  to her breast cups; but when the suction came onto her nipples, she became almost 
  hysterical. At first it wasn't bad, then the vacuum grew stronger and stronger 
  in a pulsating rhythm that she couldn't escape. To her added horror, her own 
  body began to betray her! She felt her straining, pierced nipples erect of their 
  own volition! The varying suction rapidly aroused her flesh and her garrotted 
  breasts throbbed and jerked to the insistent tugging at them. She tried to beg 
  for it to stop; but the gag-pad and throat-tube eliminated all of her cries. 
  Inside the gleaming black encasement, Christine felt the sudden jerking tension 
  of the suction at the tips of each of her already inflated breasts and longed 
  desperately to caress her turgid and suddenly super-sensitive flesh as soon 
  as the suckling started; but she could only lay trapped and helpless as her 
  fleshy globes began to be dragged at more and more painfully. 

 The respirator bag pulsed rapidly with Christine's increasingly panicky breathing, 
  and he glanced quickly at the heart monitor getting its signals from pick-ups 
  on the rubber lining of the Sarcophagus. The entire set-up for Aversion Therapy 
  was computer-monitored and enforced. On the wall, the needles of the gauges 
  flickered back and forth with each flexing of the hoses, staying high in a green 
  banded area; with quick flicks into the red at every twitch of the snake-like 
  vacuum lines. 

 "I'll do the facial insertion first." he stated, pulling a stool close to 
  the side of the alter-like bed and preparing the longest of the thick-gauged 
  pins. 

 Slowly and carefully, he inserted the shaft into the right side grommet of 
  the bulbous facial covering. The inner surface of each silvery fitting on the 
  face-plate had very fine threads machined into it; but for the moment, these 
  had no obvious purpose. At first the needle slipped easily through the hole 
  with only the smallest of clearances allowing it to be moved inwards. It seemed 
  to go in a long way before encountering resistance: the first nostrils grommet. 

 The respirator breathing bag suddenly went from its now slowed and measured 
  inflations, back to jerky frantic movements of panic-stricken breaths. His knuckles 
  whitened momentarily and he twisted the rod slightly while putting more force 
  on it. The needle sank inwards a short distance then encountered another seeming 
  obstruction: her septum's grommet. His fingers twirled the shaft again and the 
  needle quickly slipped through the steel tube mounted inside her nose. An eternity 
  of five seconds later it again began to pass more easily into the outer steel 
  grommet with only another slight hesitation when it skewered through her other 
  nostril's grommet. Two seconds later, the shiny, sharpened tip emerged from 
  the other fitting of the faceplate. The breathing bag continued to pulse wildly 
  with Christine's gasping breaths and strangled screaming; but the room remained 
  utterly silent except for the sounds from the air conditioning vent high on 
  the wall. Her cries of horror were never heard, except in her own mind. 

 "OK. Time to secure." he stated to no one in particular. 

 He carefully inspected the shaft projecting a couple of inches from each side 
  of the faceplate, then took a pair of locking pliers and gripped one end. He 
  rotated the tool, slowly turning the shaft so that its finely-threaded portions 
  engaged the interior threads of the mountings. These slowly sank from sight 
  until a fine, pre-stressed groove disappeared into the fitting. When it was 
  below the surface, he suddenly twisted the pliers with a quick jerk. A sharp, 
  metallic twung! echoed through the room and the shaft snapped off, just below 
  the shiny outer surface. He moved around to the other side of the bed, nodded 
  to himself, then took the pliers, locked their jaws to the shaft, and gave it 
  a sharp twist. Another twung! sounded and he inspected the mounting again. Just 
  below the surface, he could see the glittering, snapped-off end of the steel 
  shaft, now tightly screwed into place and in no way accessible from the surface. 
  "Getting that out of there," he thought to himself, "is going to be one cast 
  iron bitch of a job, if it's possible." 

 Deep inside, Christine waited, horrified by the whole thing; but her air continued 
  to flow evenly and for the moment that was all she cared about. 

 Something suddenly touched the grommet mounted in her right nostril. 

 She shuddered as violently as her bondage permitted when she felt the thin 
  shaft slip through the grommet, then slide through the one in her septum and 
  on into and through her other nostril. Christine, completely unable to move, 
  fainted from the cumulative dread, yet the needle continued along its path and 
  out of the mount on the far side of the faceplate. 

 When she came back to awareness within her ebon confinement, nothing had changed. 
  Her nose too had now been made a captive and she could feel the intimate restriction 
  of the steel rod that locked her entire face utterly into the horrifying mask 
  and helmet. Her breasts were still being strongly attacked by the vacuum, for 
  they had now become only a means to torment her, and to produce milk. Again 
  and again she tried to scream into the gag only to have it, the throat tube, 
  and the tongue restriction devices foil her attempts. She heard the uncaring 
  voice again. 

 "OK. Now your nipples." 

 She desperately wanted to scream out that the pain would be too terrible, 
  especially with her nipples and breasts so tender and still being suckled. Besides 
  wasn't she already nipple-ringed? Of course nothing happened despite her desperate 
  desire to speak, and once more the respirator breathing bag pulsed rapidly while 
  she rose on another tsunami of fear. 

 At the base of each distended and sensitized nipple, dragged far out into 
  the teat suckers, she felt a sharp prickle while he carefully positioned the 
  needles in their vertically-aligned grommets. Although she mindlessly tried 
  to cringe her bulging and tumescent flesh away from the vacuum, she knew deep 
  in her heart that it was a hopeless attempt. 

 With a sudden thrust, both of the needles were simultaneously forced into 
  her vacuum lengthened nipples. 

 Their passage through the tender, blood-engorged and sensitized flesh was 
  swift and clean; but the pain was titanic! Within her rigid bondage Christine 
  thrummed like a beaten drumhead, screaming incoherently. The agony of the piercing 
  seemed to go on and on while her nipples were continually tugged at. A moment 
  later she felt four sharp vibrations, two from each breast, when the shafts 
  transfixing the tender flesh snapped off within their fittings. She realized 
  with certainty, now, that the cups were securely locked onto the badges of her 
  womanhood and a horrified realization that she'd never, on her own, be able 
  to remove the front panel of the Sarcophagus from herself. When the piercing 
  process had been completed, the Technician knew, as did she, that she'd been 
  locked completely away from the outer world. Even if the rest of the Sarcophagus 
  could be removed from her body, the upper portion would remain fastened firmly 
  to her flesh without any easy means of removing it. Certainly, 

 it could be done, with difficulty; but it wouldn't be a short or an easy process. 
  To add to her distress, her hearing suddenly disappeared again, leaving her 
  floating in total immobility and soundless blackness. 

The Sarcophagus
Chapter 10

 He opened the cell, and from a drawer in the outer room the two guards brought 
  a handful of wide nylon straps over to the Sarcophagus, then clipped them to 
  rings in the ceiling. The straps were each fitted with ratchet-equipped pulleys 
  about halfway along their length. They loosed the others that held the closed 
  encasement to the altar, then threaded the overhead ones through the vacated 
  tie-down loops, and back and through the ratchets. In short order, all were 
  pulled to a firm snugness, then gradually tightened until the shiny black case 
  had been raised about three inches above the surface of the high platform bed, 
  swinging gently back and forth. 

 In the outer room the Technician went to a large control panel and threw a 
  switch. Within the cell, the entire bed platform slid slowly off to one side. 
  What was revealed was a five foot deep, four foot wide, black-painted steel 
  box set into the floor beneath where the high, alter-like bed would normally 
  rest. At mid-depth, along the sides and end walls of this tomb, stout, yet stretchy 
  rubber straps hung; waiting to be clipped to the tie-down loops of the Sarcophagus. 
  At the top end, relieving the blackness, a shiny panel with a plethora of connection 
  points was inset. Hanging from these were the hoses and wires that would be 
  needed to sustain and monitor her during her Therapy. They would also control, 
  torture, and stimulate her during the long and drawn-out processes to come. 

 He returned to the cell and gave the shiny, black and vaguely female-shaped 
  case suspended above the containment a quick inspection, while the other two 
  reached down into the shallow chamber beneath and lifted out the first sets 
  of hoses. Her air supply lines. These were screwed tightly into their connectors 
  on the face-plate as soon as her others were disconnected, then they brought 
  up the water and feeding lines and fitted them to their connectors. Again, doubled 
  sets of hoses were clipped to their fittings over her breasts after they'd removed 
  the others, then they moved to her crotch with the remainder. One hose went 
  to her bladder catheter fitting and another, a vacuum hose, was mounted immediately 
  above: her clitoral vacuum line. A tripled and complicated-looking set was connected 
  to its receptacles on the underside of the Sarcophagus. Within her casing, Christine 
  felt the vibrations deep inside herself when this group clicked into place. 
  She'd been equipped with the hot and cold water enema lines and a waste evacuation 
  system. A thick umbilical cable was screwed into it's multi-pinned connector 
  at the top of her head casing, then others of the same type were mated to connectors 
  at crotch level, and on her chest, just under the bulging hillocks of her breasts. 

 The three of them spent the next minutes with small adjustable wrenches, going 
  around the gently swinging Sarcophagus, tightening the hose connectors, then 
  they sealed the large umbilicals of wires into their sockets by twisting down 
  hard on the retainer rings. These locked securely into place with final, mechanical 
  clicks. She was ready to be lowered. The ratchets on the pulleys clicked loudly 
  as she slowly descended into the tomblike recess in the floor, then, when the 
  Sarcophagus had reached the proper depth, they replaced the nylon straps one 
  by one with the stretchy rubber ones from the side walls of the inner steel 
  casing. The Sarcophagus was now centrally positioned within the deep, long box, 
  suspended and motionless on its rubber straps, halfway between the bottom and 
  floor level. The hoses and thick umbilical cables looped from their connections 
  to the shiny black case, passing under it and to the end of the box. He completed 
  a final check to ensure that everything was tightly fastened, then turned and 
  began removing the lifting and suspension tackle. 

 Two minutes later he closed and locked the cell door then walked to the cabinet 
  containing the primary set of controls. They watched carefully through the barred 
  door after depressing another switch. The platform bed moved along its short, 
  hidden rails and with a muffled thump, the podium slowly settled back onto its 
  foundations, completely hiding the chamber underneath. Another series of switches 
  was thrown, and the technician closed and locked the cabinet. The guards returned 
  the nylon straps to their drawer, and with a last inspection of the silent, 
  now apparently lifeless barred cage they turned out the lights, then closed 
  and locked the outer door of the stark chamber. 

 Deep inside her Sarcophagus, Christine still attampted to open her eyes against 
  the firm pressure of the foam rubber against her lids; but even that freedom 
  was now denied to her. The only thing that happened was that tears seeped slowly 
  from the corners of her eyes, and when she tried to swallow, she could only 
  feel her tongue drag at it's anchors, surging against the horrid, large tube 
  down her throat and the steely anchors penetrating it so horribly. She couldn't 
  stop the automatic retching action her attempts triggered, trying to force it 
  from her body; but nothing happened other than her throat muscles convulsing 
  against the tight steel collar encircling her neck and the thick-walled tube 
  within it. It didn't move. The tubes up her nose continued to force air into 
  and out of her lungs around the steel pin transfixing it and when she twitched 
  her nostrils, all she could feel was the miserable discomfort of the new fixture 
  locking it into the face-plate. Her breasts, too, still burned from being pierced; 
  but, for the moment in her soundless isolation, there was no suckling. She clenched 
  her anal muscles around the base of the butt plug, feeling its resilient intrusion 
  into her bowel; then, continuing her exploration, she tried to grip the huge 
  intruder in her sex with her internal muscles. It was slightly compressible; 
  but couldn't be forced to move in any manner. Christine's feet and legs ached 
  abominably in the ballet en point position theyd been forced into and she couldn't 
  even feel her toes against each other when she tried to wriggle them. Within 
  the glove-like things imprisoning her hands and fingers, she repeatedly tried 
  to claw her way out; but again, nothing at all happened. 

 For what seemed like hours she lay in a completely featureless void, unaware 
  that all the connections for her Therapy had been made. Too, she didn't know 
  that she was now sealed into the small chamber by the heavy slab bearing the 
  bed above, then made even more of a prisoner behind two locked and sealed doors. 

 In the Holding Facility office three stories above, the Chief Technician opened 
  a file on the computer screen and stared intently at it for long minutes. His 
  fingers twirled the trackball then double clicked on a series of icons. Five 
  minutes later, he turned off the monitor and got ready to leave for his office 
  for the day. 

 Sealed away from the world, far below, Christine heard the faint whisper of 
  a voice begin to insinuate itself deeply into her hysterical thoughts. She was 
  unashamedly grateful that she'd finally been allowed some relief from the utter 
  soundlessness and her mind clung desperately to what she was hearing. She hoped, 
  somehow, that by paying attention to what came into her ears, she would be granted 
  a reprieve and released from this, her ultimate bondage. 

 It was not to be. 

 His voice began to speak, echoing somewhere between her temples. 

 "130146, this is the beginning of your Aversion Therapy. It will transform 
  you into the ultimate fantasy female. This will be accomplished by various means; 
  some involving sexual stimulation and others a considerable degree of pain to 
  reinforce the lessons you will be required to assimilate. Eventually, this conditioning 
  will be deeply and fully embedded in your conscious and subconscious mind, to 
  the point that you won't even remember not doing as it dictates you must. 

 "Your sessions will demand co-operation from you. This will be in the form 
  of either yes or no answers, or require you to answer multiple choice questions. 
  You will be able to do this my flexing certain of your fingers within their 
  gloves. Although you'll be unable to detect any movement; for none is permitted, 
  the receptors within the finger pads will pick up the neuromuscular signals 
  and register them on the computer. Wrong answers will be harshly punished, immediately. 
  Correct ones may be rewarded at sometime in the future. 

 "One final point, 130146. Your existence within your Sarcophagus, although 
  primarily punitive in nature, will also give some small benefit to The State. 
  Your food mixture has contained and will continue to contain special enhancing 
  hormones that will quickly have you producing milk. While you are confined, 
  you will be milked on a regular basis; providing nourishment for those who need 
  it. This milking will in no way affect the length or severity of your punishment, 
  and in fact will more than likely make it just that much more severe. Your sentence 
  in the Sarcophagus begins now." The voice clicked off to be replaced by an utterly 
  blank wall of soundlessness. 

 Deep inside the multiple layers of her bondage, Christine shivered in crazed 
  terror. Her fate was sealed. In the space of three short weeks she had gone 
  from a free and vivacious young woman to a totally controlled experimental animal, 
  forced into a confinement like nothing she'd imagined was possible. She begged 
  into her absolutely effective gag, praying that she was only having the worst 
  of all possible nightmares; wondering if, in fact, she really existed at all. 

 Death had not claimed her; just a real life version of Hell. 

 For what seemed an eternity; but in fact was only an hour, she floated in 
  nothingness, then slowly and insidiously the rectal tube begin to fill her bowels 
  with warm water until she felt that they would burst from the burbling and constant 
  inflow. Her stomach ached in a way that she'd never experienced before; but 
  the plug in her butt held the surging water within her body. A tickle of small 
  electrical shocks suddenly shuddered the flesh and muscles of her buttocks, 
  quickly escalating into a rippling, lashing, painful series of jolts that made 
  her howl crazily and incoherently. But, only in her mind. She remained securely 
  fastened inside the Sarcophagus and though suspended on the springy rubber straps 
  it didn't move at all. 

 In the background a sibilant, low, woman's voice began to speak; telling her 
  of her new duties and requirements in life. It endlessly repeated to her an 
  oath of slavery and she thought she'd go totally mad from the constant repetition. 
  Eventually she began to parrot the words. Her belly ached with an indescribable 
  pain and the shocks assaulted her unmercifully. The next dimension to her torment 
  was added when huge dildo already partially buried in her womb began to vibrate 
  fiercely and flex tumultuously; seeming to dig itself ever deeper into her core 
  as it slowly lengthened, turning through the rifled fittings dilating her sex. 
  The sensations she suffered, as they would be for any woman, were a horrible, 
  invasive experience. But then, she began to feel an insidious arousal! She was 
  driven slowly towards an orgasm despite the multiple applications of pain and 
  the stimulation of her most intimate senses and being. Electrodes to her anal 
  sphincter muscles became active and the convulsing nearly drove her crazy; but 
  that wasn't the end! She was on a shivering, wildly fluctuating emotional roller 
  coaster ride of fear and sensual arousal. 

 In the outer cell of the Experimental Centre, a valve slowly opened and a 
  vacuum was applied from the opening placed tightly against her clitoris within 
  the steel confines of her Chastity Belt. The suction grew stronger, varying 
  at a quickly violent rate that pulled firmly on the fleshy nodule, dragging 
  it painfully further and further out of her body with each succeeding, rhythmical 
  pulse. The sensation of the vacuum's tugging was incredibly disturbing and her 
  hips wanted to writhe away from the horrid drag; but no movement was permitted 
  by the rigidity of the Chastity Belt's fastenings, or by the Sarcophagus. For 
  a moment it stopped and she felt her engorged clitoris slide slowly back along 
  the roughened interior of the tube pressed so strategically into her. The sensation 
  of the rough frosting caressing this, her most sensitive flesh, was an incredibly 
  arousing teasing and again she tried to writhe her hips to accentuate it. It 
  was not the intention of the program or of her all-encompassing fastenings to 
  allow her this freedom. The suction began once more, then at the height (she 
  thought, at that point) of her discomfort and forced arousal, it stopped and 
  let the fleshy bud withdraw. 

 Again and again it happened until her mind turned into a maelstrom of primal, 
  howling female desire. It didn't stop! Christine's conscious mind began to fog-out 
  with the multiple sensations of pain and pleasure; but it still wasn't the end. 
  It was only the preparatory steps of her Aversion Therapy. 

The Sarcophagus
The End

 Her ballooned and now supersensitive nipples and breasts, imprisoned within 
  their separate chambers, were suddenly rippled by a horrifying series of shocks 
  that turned them into twitching mounds of feminine torture that she'd never 
  even suspected she could be subjected to, until the 'Tests' had been done. A 
  different rhythm of suction from that on her clitoris began tugging at her doubly 
  pierced nipples. Inside the teat sucker cups, her flesh strained against the 
  vertical pins locked into it and a wild screaming fit shivered through her totally 
  immobilized body when small irises closed around the circular notches on the 
  exposed tips of the deeply penetrating pins, locking her nipples into them, 
  then slowly pulled outwards. It was almost too much to bear and retain any self-awareness; 
  but the Experimental Staff had foreseen this happening and her air was laced 
  with a nearly fifty percent oxygen mixture so that she couldn't escape by fleeing 
  to unconsciousness. The shocks through her nipples died away for a second or 
  two then escalated from around the bases of her straining breasts, pulsing through 
  the entirety of each fleshy mound with agonizing strength and frequency. A sudden 
  squeezing pressure began alternating with the suction on her nipples when the 
  cups began their first forced milking. The pressure was severe, squeezing her 
  bulging, snared flesh mercilessly while they were electrified over and over 
  again. She became incoherent with the agony of sensations. 

 At the same time these started, other, at first mild then stronger and stronger 
  shocks began to ripple through her rapidly drawn out and retracting clitoris. 
  More frantic, mewling screams erupted within her mind, nearly shattering her 
  humanity while she bit reflexively down on the gag-pad that kept her mouth stretched 
  wide and thoroughly plugged. Her pierced tongue surged in an agonized frenzy 
  against its multiple steel impalements and fastenings when other shocks rippled 
  through it! Within her trembling and water-filled belly, the vaginal dildo continued 
  its weird vibration, thrusting, and flexing, now also shocking the sensitive 
  fleshy organs pressed intimately around it's circumference and length. 

 The session continued, and as intended, she didn't know what to focus her 
  thoughts on, for all of the sensations flooding through her made into a combined 
  whole that was completely overwhelming. Her thoughts whirled in a tornado of 
  hyper-awareness while the voice telling her of her duties and responsibilities 
  as a slave female became louder and louder. She continually tried to twist and 
  surge against her immobilization; but nothing could free her. A series of stupendous 
  screaming fits shook her mind and her consciousness shattered like a fine crystal 
  goblet dropped onto a concrete floor; leaving her primal subconscious and her 
  very essence as a female laid utterly vulnerable. Within the isolation of the 
  Sarcophagus, she was returned to her bare beginnings and the voice began to 
  imprint her new personality and way of life on the tender ground of her psyche. 
  The sensory deprivation and the incredible stimulation of her breasts and sexual 
  organs, in combination with the assaults of the electrical stimulation and pain, 
  all acted to deeply embed the responses that she would soon make automatically. 

 For the first session, she was kept in this state of primal vulnerability 
  and enforced sensation for a full four hours, then at last the pain of the electro-shock 
  treatment changed subtlety; becoming a stimulatory teasing rather than a torturing. 
  The transformation was slow to occur; but it too was torture, for it wasn't 
  strong enough to push her over the edge to orgasm, yet. Sometime during the 
  harrowing and mind-altering session, she'd been allowed to release her enema 
  solution; but now, quick bursts of cold water flushed deeply up into her writhing 
  belly. In combination with her again frantic mewling and strangled screaming, 
  she was driven ever closer to an explosive release. 

 No movement was reflected on the outer casing, despite her tensing muscles; 
  yet the pulsating, vibrating shocks continued to course through her captive 
  femininity in ever-intensifying cycles of sensation. Deep inside her abdomen, 
  the plugs began to cascade further waves of sensual vibration through her steel-compressed 
  and controlled belly. Her breasts throbbed and shivered with teasing trickles 
  and jiggles of electricity while the suckling action on her nipples became gentle 
  mind-caressing surges of pleasure. Christine's arousal climbed higher and higher 
  until she thought that she could stand no more of the painful delight, then, 
  just when she was ready to explode with a volcanic orgasm from the next pleasurable 
  pulse, everything came to an abrupt stop. She was immobilized and completely 
  unable to assist herself to an orgasm, dangling in a silent nothingness of unfulfilled 
  desire. She screamed out the wild frustration in her mind while her muscles 
  trembled violently against their many restrictions. 

 The program ticked slowly through fifteen minutes of untouched existence, 
  giving her time to resume what little rational thought she was capable of, now, 
  inside the Sarcophagus. "It's not fair!" she wailed over and over to herself; 
  but when she began to accept her fate, the computer started the process of stimulation 
  all over again. Irresistibly, it worked her upwards in small increments until 
  she teetered on the very edge of an orgasm that would make all others she'd 
  ever experienced pale by comparison. 

 Everything, stopped, again, just as she was about to erupt. 

 The computer monitored her brain activity, heart rate, core temperature, the 
  moisture level within her vagina, the minuscule muscular contractions of her 
  skin; and a myriad of other signs of the onset of orgasm, and cruelly, was set 
  to withhold it from her. Finally, she reached the assigned set of parameters 
  and was allowed to experience the most devastating orgasm of her 18 years. The 
  galactic whirlpools of stars in her mind exploded in super novae of sensation 
  and all consciousness fled like leaves before an Autumn storm. Although she 
  still breathed the nearly fifty percent mixture of oxygen, her mind could no 
  longer handle the crashing sensations that her very femaleness generated and 
  she, like many before her; to all intents and purposes evaporated into the mists 
  and crannies of her own mind. 

 While she was still unconscious, the programming of the computer ensured that 
  she was fed a rich mixture of nutrients both through the lower bowel and by 
  pumping them directly into her stomach, down the throat tube. Her bladder was 
  emptied by remote control and some time later other electrical contacts within 
  the Sarcophagus were activated in such a manner that her muscles received the 
  correct amount of stimulation to keep her in proper physical condition. 

 Her oxygen level was automatically lowered to normal and she stayed deep in 
  her coma for the next eight hours. The first of her Therapy sessions had lasted 
  only four hours and the sexual stimulation and reward part another four. While 
  she slept, a continual background of white noise was fed into her ear plugs 
  to ensure that her brain didn't descend into a state of psychic shock and self-destruction. 
  This noise though, would cease when the computer sensed from her brain wave 
  patterns that she had returned to awareness. It was required that she be fully 
  aware that she was, in fact, held in totally controlling bondage and isolation. 

 Christine finally came back to full awareness and began desperately to want 
  to be returned to the freedom of her previous existence; but her next Therapy 
  session commenced immediately. She was again soon screaming out her paean of 
  tortured femininity while the next layer of conditioning was laid in over the 
  first. At the end, she was rewarded once more with another series of incredible 
  orgasms and once more she plummeted into a never-never land. 

 The 'Therapy', while she remained within the Sarcophagus, was unstoppable 
  and unavoidable. 

 Within a week, Christine had become totally compliant, unable and unwilling, 
  now, to do anything but what was decreed for her. She nevertheless remained 
  deeply captive and utterly isolated from the world. The sexual releases she 
  was forced to experience after each session grew in violence and intensity and 
  she rapidly became addicted to them in the manner that some people become instant 
  drug addicts. As with all the other women who'd been incarcerated in their Sarcophagi, 
  she'd become a virtual black hole of sexual need and desire; unable to help 
  herself after having had the massive, mind-exploding orgasms heaped onto her 
  day after astounding day. She forgot everything about her former existence and 
  became a primal female protoplasm within the hardened carapace of the Sarcophagus; 
  slowly being evolved into something and someone completely different than when 
  she'd entered the Experimental Facility. 

 Intellectually, she'd known that this might happen as they'd told her it would; 
  but had been totally unaware of how quickly and intensely it would be accomplished. 
  Now, even that knowledge and awareness had been stripped from her like old, 
  sun-burned skin. She would eventually emerge from her Sarcophagus as the butterfly 
  most men could only dream of possessing, then be sent to her destiny as the 
  plaything of the super rich, somewhere in the world; despite what her sentence 
  had been. 

 Her Sarcophagus would become, in effect, her shipping crate, and at her final 
  destination, she would be carefully freed of it, then assume her new existence. 
  The only things that wouldn't change were her cuffs, collar, Chastity Belt, 
  and the fact that she would, for the rest of her life, be kept on a leash and 
  under some type of pervasive and permanent control. 

 She was committed, and there was no escape. 

 THE END

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