Cowbound

Emelie made another tired pull at her restraints, unable to budge even an inch. Whatever had decided to lock down her entire body, it had done a phenomenal job. Her whimpering body was completely stopped from doing anything other than waiting until she got free.

What made things much more confusing was how she'd gotten into this situation. She'd just gotten this bed earlier in the day, having paid for it to be assembled and installed. There had been no mention of any fetish things or creepy secrets from the company that manufactured this thing...Emelie wasn't into that stuff.

Cuffs just above her feet kept her legs completely taut, denied the ability to bend. The most she could do was wiggle her toes and roll her foot a little bit. But because of how the lines were secured, she could neither push nor pull her lower body in any direction.

Shaking thighs revealed a one-piece straightjacket that showed off her hips. A wide strap reached underneath her crotch to cover up her most sensitive areas, yet making them flush with the surface of the underwear.

Sweat glistened underneath the wrappings. It hurt for her to pull, the chafing in all the wrong areas giving her a headache. The more she struggled, the more tired she became.

Emelie had been wearing panties, and a great deal of other clothing for that matter, before she'd been taken prisoner. But now she only felt the creeping of the straps as she woke up naked, afraid, and bedbound.

Some sort of sleeve had appeared over each elbow and then inflated, preventing either arm from bending. Massive gloves converted her nimble fingers into useless paws. They looked like huge flippers, with her fingers perfectly filling the holes made for them and staying straight along her wrist.

Her chest and back were locked down, her arms tied together and strapped close to her belly button. Beige straps criss-crossed over the ridges of her skin, curving around her breasts and suffocating them. Through all the thrashing, Emelie had felt several large buckles at her back, travelling the length of her spine. They were connected by a large strap that ended at her neck, which gave way to a stiff posture collar.

This device kept her neck and head straight with the rest of her body, keeping her eyes firmly fixed at the ceiling. A large ball gag stuffed her mouth, keeping her tongue out of the way in the process. This was connected with the posture collar, firmly locking down her jaw. Lastly, her hair was pulled into twin pigtails that formed two sides of a triangle with the edge of the bed. Emelie's dark hair was pulled just tight enough to keep constant pressure on her head, but not enough to cause pain or lasting damage.

Frantically darting eyes could barely make out what was happening; the few facts at hand told Emelie she was helpless. Completely and utterly stuck. She couldn't even look at the alarm clock on her nightstand to figure out how long she'd been stuck like this...Or how much longer it might go on for. Could her body survive the night like this?

Had it been minutes? Seconds? Even hours? Emelie didn't even remember trying to go to sleep. Her mind had just woken up to this. Through all the bondage, the struggling girl couldn't see a way out of this in which she kept struggling and making all the tight bonds even tighter. That didn't stop her from yanking a few more times, but this only shot pain down every nerve, swiftly dousing the frenzied energy.

Every muscle was so sore and tired from all the fighting. She just wanted to go to sleep, to let this all be some terrible nightmare. Emelie would do anything to get out of here.

Her breathing slowed down considerably. Eyes began to blink out of focus, drooping one at a time. Rather than focusing on tensing and yanking on every possible bond, Emelie instead moved to relax her body and calm down. As the stillness continued, the tired woman felt her body become more and more slack.

It was clear that this situation wasn't going to get better by fighting it. So why shouldn't she just accept it, and see what came next?

A click bounced around the room, as if someone had flipped a switch. The captive girl heard the sound and registered it in her head, but she didn't feel like reacting to it. If it was important, there was nothing she could do about it.

Low rumbles and shakes interrupted the silence again. The helpless damsel could feel them through the mattress, but had no response to the events that were occurring. Nor did she have a reply when the mattress began to gently sink into the bedframe, lowering Emelie to the bottom of some chamber. The bed frame used an elevator system to gently lower its prey deeper into the vestibule of bondage. Four of the six walls in this chamber were padded, completely soundproof.

When the sinking ceased, Emelie was still staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. She was just deep enough so that she knew she could get out with enough effort, but not with the energy that she had.

And why should she fight this? She felt comfortable here. Relaxing and letting go had only made her feel good. Whatever forces at work had clearly laid out a plan for Emelie, and getting in the way of it seemed to just make things worse. What good was there in stalling the inevitable?

Four pieces of a much lower ceiling began to seal themselves around Emelie's enclosure. They were silent in their advance, slow and particular. Their march across her gaze provided much needed closure to the situation at hand: There was never a chance for this prisoner to escape. She'd been caught in this elaborate trap from the moment she got into bed.

All four components were triangle shaped: one above her head, one at her feet, and one on either side of the captive. The rim of each polygon featured interlocking bars that would link up with their siblings on the other triangles. As long as each plate met at the center of the mechanism at the same time, they would all fit perfectly together.

Emelie took one last look into her bedroom, embracing the outside world, before it was sealed off. With calculated precision, all of the locks were secured along the top of the cocoon. There was no room for failure in this operation, and the straitjacketed girl was barely a variable in this equation. She was content to be a constant, an accomplice in her own downfall. And she was happy to play her part.

There was a faint hissing noise as the small space was pressurized, isolating Emelie's world from the one beyond. After some rumbling, air began to flow through small pores dotted around the room that would keep the contents of the case alive. The air was also tinged with a gas that significantly dampened Emelie's cognitive functions, while ensuring that she would remain awake for what was to come.

Faint blue light began to illuminate the padded space, threading along the square patterns formed by the cushioned walls. Their light was not strong enough to cast a shadow, but it gave Emelie's eyes enough to work with so that she could see the ceiling again.

But directly in the center of her vision, two circles at the center of connecting cushioned squares looked different. While every other light was some shade of blue, these two lights were a dim gray, almost white. Feeling much more awake and determined to appreciate what little sensation she had, Emelie stared up at the white lights.

They looked at her as much as she looked at them. What were they learning about her? What could they see? Against the blue of the room, these little orbs were reminiscent of the sun and the moon. Masters of the day and night. Emelie was caught in the realm between, with neither celestial body able to call down to her now. How much she wanted to talk to someone!

With a series of jolts and frenzied pulses, the little lights moved to a point further away from Emelie, closer to the end of the room. Though her head was still fixed in place, her eyes stretched as far as they could until they found her little beams again.

Had Emelie known that the spotlights were located right above her crotch, she could have prepared herself mentally for what was about to happen. Instead, she continued to stare straight at them, unaware of the mechanical arms arranging themselves to attack their prey.

One of them reached for a concealed zipper that ran the length of the suitjacket's crotch. It pulled down on the extremely small grip and revealed Emelie's virgin pussy. There was a pause, which gave several of her bonds an opportunity to adjust, tighten, and loosen in various directions. They kept a tight hold on their passenger, whose leer was still locked onto the two circles.

Emelie's eyes continued to look at the two pretty lights above her. She was having such a nice conversation with them. The playful lights were big chatterboxes!

The zipper continued its journey underneath her body, coming to a stop above her asshole. All of her lower holes were now exposed. A bald vagina absorbed the blue light beaming down onto it. It was dry, though not for long.

Emelie felt a shiver down her spine as a sharp piercing made itself known on her clitoris, pinching and pulling it up. She had trouble keeping her attention trained on the two balls, what with all the mechanical arms getting in the way and doing something to her pussy. Her annoyance only grew in strength, and she struggled to bob her head and look around the arms.

She failed to notice the alterations being made to her crotch, and the bondage gear kept it off limits from her attempts to touch it. Buzzing, piercing, pulling, and pushing were just dull mutters in Emelie's head as she resumed her idle chatter with the pretty lights.

The transformation of Emelie's vagina took no less than twenty minutes to accomplish. When it finished, her once plain femininity looked far more garish.

Piercings lined the sides of her labia, connected to the straightjacket by a series of silver rings. At present, they pulled Emelie's vagina open and allowed it to remain vacant. Her virgin pussy yearned to be filled and made whole. Her steady breathing caused the empty chasm to give the impression of its own respirations, opening and closing in sync with the rise and fall of Emelie's chest.

An erect clitoris stood tall, with a metal bar stuck through the top of her clit. It had been pulled, coaxed, and massaged until it stood clearly defined outside of its hood. The tall nub was enclosed in a plastic sleeve that exposed it to much more attentive manipulation. The bar that crowned her clit ended with small threads on either side, and these fine strings merged with the fabric of the straightjacket to maintain the tension on her newest playspot.

Emelie's pussy glistened in need. In anticipation. But she wasn't aware of her horniness, or of anything else for that matter. Instead, her glazed eyes attempted to stay trained on those twinkling orbs, so far away. Could she reach them? Would she try?

As her struggles with the impossible task grew more dire, her asshole was fixed and neatly secured to the straightjacket. It was replete with piercings, jewels, and kept ajar by a large ring. It took an assortment of worker arms to carefully open up the sensitive rear to additional maintenance, with the preservation of her anal virginity being a top priority. Though the entryway to her forward and rear holes were warped beyond normal fetish play, their respective tunnels had preserved their tightness. This was important for what was to come.

All but one of the manipulative arms retreated into dark corners of the space. The only things remaining were Emelie and the zipper arm from the girl's first installation. Starting from her butt, the zipper was slowly closed over the many rings that adorned her crotch. When the zipper was closed, it pulled the sensitive skin up off her body before flattening out and locking with the other rings. These devices could shift their locking structure and ensure that the appropriate entryway was either gaping open or sealed shut. As a result, the bouquet of bondage could be completely hidden underneath the zipper of the straitjacket.

In this situation, Emelie's anus and cunt were kept aggressively tight until a more appropriate moment. Her clit was the only sign of her surgery, jutting out from above the zipper as an angry dot. The ring that spread her anus could collapse on itself and flatten out along the girl's flat ass, once again keeping unwanted objects outside of her tensed rear.

The pretty lights hadn't told their hypnotized charge that she should be feeling any pain from the procedure, so she didn't. She received no instruction to feel pleasure when the zipper arm evaluated her erection, allowing it to observe and poke at the nub, while Emielie offered no reaction whatsoever.

With no warning, the dazzling lights began to aggressively jump around the ceiling, guiding the eyes of the damned damsel on a short leash. So many lights, so much movement, so dizzying and tiring. Emelie only listened to what she was told. She did not feel the unveiling of her belly button, and the deliberate probing of the cavity.

She was an innie, but that didn't matter as fine tools began to work on her navel. The twin lights illuminated the dark metal that attacked Emelie's body, casting shadows within the confined space.

After a series of electronic whirring sounds, the arms pulled back to reveal an artificial umbilical cord. It snaked its way from Emelie's belly button towards the ceiling. Like the other additions, this construction had been affixed by small rings, threads, and exact positioning into the perfectly sized port.

This device would function similarly to a traditional umbilicus between a mother and a child, transferring materials to and from both parties. The differences lay in its aesthetics, looking far more electronic and industrial: its transparency revealed several inner tubes that travelled the length of the chute. Silver rings adorned the circumference of the cord and decorated the outside. Its anatomy was also fundamentally different in how it connected to Emelie's physiology, achieving connections and bonds with long dormant veins and arteries.

It took more than an hour for the wires and tubes to apply themselves in a way that would not trigger an immune response or biological rejection. Of all the other changes that would be happening to Emelie, this was the most sensitive and precise. There was no room for error in this operation.

This implant would take care of Emelie very soon. She didn't acknowledge her new connection to her prison at all, for she wasn't aware that anything had happened. Once again, her slightly closed eyes just looked out into nothingness.

With another flurry of dances, the twinkly glows jumped around again. Emelie was much less enthused about trying to keep up this time, and was constantly one step behind. She'd look at where they just were, only to find them gone and in another location. Eventually, they shone onto the area that concealed her mediocre breasts.

A spider web of wires and tubes came to life underneath the straitjacket, measuring Emelie's unremarkable assets. Emelie rarely wore bras in her past life, since there wasn't a lot to support. She'd only worn them during the winter, or if she wasn't wearing much else besides a top.

Two appendages came down to the surface and reached for the areas that concealed her nipples. Complex devices and tools flowered from the ends of the snake-like arms. The first of them identified and locked onto four zippers for each breast, which spread outward from the center of each target like a cross. In one motion, they unzipped the jacket and unveiled Emelie's small mounds.

Her nipples had long been caught and forced up from the rest of her body, sustaining the arousal she felt. The small nubs would have stood up on their own in response to the cool air and motions of the arms on top of them, had they not already been raised.

Clawlike fixtures lowered themselves around each breast, locking in place on top of the ringed metal. Emelie's skin was kneaded, her orbs squishing with what little mass they had until they appeared more like stout cylinders instead of rounded tops. The grip on her breastflesh gently but evenly prompted her breasts to rise as yeast does in heat.

In a single instant, two plastic tubes penetrated right through each nipple and lodged themselves firmly within Emelie's mammaries. Due to how warped they were, the invaders were able to be planted far more deeply than without the claws holding on. Like the umbilicus, these implants would serve Emelie's body in novel ways, giving and taking from her breasts when the time was right.

Unlike the faux organ, the two tubes in Emelie's boobs had no equivalent biological process. She was incapable of thinking about the problem, or perceiving the weird things sticking out of her tits. Sure, the wires, arms, and science stuff had taken up her vision and all of her thoughts. But all that mattered was how great of a job she was doing. Emelie was being fixed! Made better! Who was she to question all of it? Faith kept her mind at ease, and she was happy.

Silenced until now, Emelie's mouth was given freedom when the gag was unclipped. She'd been drooling for quite some time, and had no reason to stop doing so. Her body remained still, adjusting to all the new bits and pieces that were attached to her once clean frame. The slow movements of her chest confirmed that she felt no fear in her new home, and the dampness of her crotch indicated how much she was looking forward to what came next.

Compartments opened and closed out of sight of the subject, machinery cackling in the background. Though the bedframe appeared to take up a small area, there was a lot going on behind the scenes. Every square inch was occupied with important technology to capture, subdue, and transform their targets. All of the details for this operation had been planned well in advance.

Six long arms appeared from the center of the ceiling, and descended on Emelie. Each of the arms were jet black, with a sliver of transparent plastic running down four sides that would allow observers to see what was being transported. At the ends of each snake, a massive dildo glistened in the blue light. Long, thick, and ribbed, they were made to stuff, stimulate, and fill up a waiting hole.

Emelie was allowed to taste the tip of one, and noted the strong smell of plastic. Her tongue swirled around the head, admiring the taste. It slid out to rest on top of her lips, prompting Emelie to give it a quick kiss. This fake dick was brand new, and needed to be broken in. Just like she did!

The rest of the arms moved to their positions, waiting for the opportunity to attack. Two dicks clicked onto the tops of the tubes that descended through her breasts. The same thing happened to the umbilicus, ready to be put to use.

The last two dicks aimed themselves over Emelie's vagina and anus, which had been silently opened up. They gaped wide, ready and willing to receive something wonderful.

But was Emelie ready? Her face said yes, as she did her best to tantalize the cock in front of her face. She wanted nothing more to be fucked and filled beyond recognition. There was no need for her to say anything; her eyes and mouth did all the talking.

Without further delay, all six dicks assaulted the poor girl. A massive penis slid past her tongue and down her throat much too fast to trigger a reflexive gag. Her tit dicks confirmed the lock on her tubes, then began pumping a white fluid into her. The umbilical penis mirrored this, allowing white fluid to flow directly into her body.

The stretched cunt and asshole were met with new companions, the fake dicks sliding in with some difficulty. The gaping rings helped, though Emelie was still technically a virgin. That would change with the perfect fit of the cocks, rubbing the inside of her canals with their ridges and huge heads. Soon, they too began to pump a thick, white fluid deep into their new home. There was no foreplay, no warning, no pistoning in and out. Just an onslaught of cream being injected throughout every fiber of Emelie's being.