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.
