Strapped In Pt. 01

** My first story! I've been reading for years, and finally decided to put some fantasies on the page. Writing something short to get some practice, I hope you all enjoy <3 **

Summary: A young man would do anything to spend time with his crush. But how far is too far?

- Prologue -

I couldn't believe Emilie had said yes. I was convinced she had no idea who I was. Why would she? I've never been one to stand out, blending into the background of every class we've had together. All through high school I had obsessed over her, and all my friends knew it, but I had never had the courage to speak to her. When I found out she was staying in town for college, my heart soar with hope. Maybe I'd still get my chance.

A month into our college freshman year, and I still hadn't been able to talk to her. Not even a text. But one fateful night, I found my way into a party, and was suddenly struck with Emilie in the corner. Standing there in a tight, black dress and knee high brown leather boots; her hair perfect, her smile perfect, everything about her is perfect.

The way her blonde curls tumble down past her shoulders is enough to make me melt. The way she teeters expertly on the 5" heeled boots with such confidence, like she knows she's worth everyone's attention. The sharp, manicured tip of her teal painted nails, almost like claws. And the strong, piercing look in her eyes as she surveys the room, like she's looking for something.

And then those green eyes fall on me.

I froze on my feet, alcohol rushing to my head. Could I do it? I grab another red cup and drink it quickly. Could I? This is too much. Another cup. Its too much pressure. Another cup. I can't do it.

The next hour is a dizzy blur.

I wake up the next morning in my bed, feeling awful. But as soon as I check my phone, my stomach drops, but my heart leaps.

A single unread text.

"Haha, you were so funny last night. I'd love to see you again tonight, I'm so glad you finally asked <3 pick me up at 8? Don't be late!"

- The Big Night -

I could barely breathe. I tried to dress my best, but my choices were limited to jeans and my cleanest button down. It'll have to do. I can't believe I did it. And I can't believe Emilie said yes.

I pull up to her apartment at 8, too anxious and impatient to let myself be late. As I'm about to send her a text saying I'm here, I catch movement in the corner of my eye. Emilie makes her way out the door, and I catch my breath at her outfit. Black, tight leather pants. Black, lacy corset top, strapless. Her hair was let down, straightened, framing her razor sharp cheekbones. Platform, nude heels clicked with every step on the rainsoaked pavement.

She sees my car and her lush, painted lips curl a devilish smile.

Snapping myself from my shock, I leaned across the car to open the door for her, but she beat me to it. She swung the car open and hurried herself into the passenger seat before I could react, my arm still outstretched. She ducked under my arm into the seat, and quickly turned it into a sweet hug.

"Aw Josh!" Emilie squealed, embracing me. "I'm so excited. Tonight's going to be so much fun!"

Startled, I let my arm wrap her in a quick hug, before retreating back to the safety of driving. Struggling to find my words, I let out a meek, "Where are we going?".

"Oh I thought we said we'd go to a warehouse party at the old Schmidt's building downtown, my friends might meet us there later, but I figured we'd get there early to be together"

"That sounds perfect!" I said, a bit too eagerly. I coughed and tried to collect my words. Play it cool, I thought to myself, pulling out into the street on the way to our destination.

Emilie giggled, and I felt my legs melt.

"You're trying so hard", she said playfully. "I like that in a man"

I blushed, uncontrollably red, trying to keep a straight face.

"You said a lot last night", she continued, "I almost couldn't get you to stop talking. But you said you'd do anything for a shot with me. And I like a man who tries hard."

I couldn't help it now, I bit my lip as my body went tense. I felt myself getting excited at the thought of Emilie thinking about me.

She leaned across the car, her lips nearly touching my ear. "Remember that".

As we parked and made our way to the warehouse, it seemed strangely quiet. But I didn't let that worry me for very long. Emilie grabbed my hand and led me ahead with her, every step her heels click-click-clicking as she led the way.

As we got inside, it was clear that the warehouse was completely empty. Despite this, Emilie still seemed to know where she was going.

"They might just be setting up, we're still a bit early" she said, still not letting go of my hand. This could be normal still, right? Like it's not like this is a club with bouncers, the people are probably still further inside, I thought to myself.

The dark, dusty hallways of the building seemed to twist forever, and I had lost track of where we had entered from. All I could think about was Emilie's soft hand in mine, and the hypnotic click-click-click of her heels. After several more staircases and hallways, Emilie stopped us in front of a large double door.

It was totally silent. Was this the party? What kind of warehouse party is this quiet? Feeling a small knot in my stomach, I started to pull away from Emilie, but she grabbed my hand tighter. She turned on her heels to face me, with a betrayed look in her eye.

"Aren't you coming in?" she asks with a pleading tone.

"What's in there?" I ask, with sudden clarity. Was it confidence? Or fear?

"Its the party, silly. At least I think so, they told me where to go. Look! They even gave me the key"

She reached into her purse and grabbed a rusty, old key. With practiced hands, she grabs the lock and pops it off. Lock? Why was the door locked? Before I could question it further, Emilie pulled my hand close, guiding it to her leather clad ass, pressing her body against mine. She looked up at me, her tender breasts nearly pressing out of her tight corset top. Even in her 5 inch heels, her petite five foot frame fit under mine.

Her left hand raised up to the back of my head and pulled me closer, our lips nearly touching. She posed there for a moment, feeling her breath on my lips. Waiting. Trepidation. The moment lingers like an eternity, but after the beat passes, Emilie breaks the silence.

"You're doing so well, Josh. You said you'd do anything for me, so aren't you going to trust me?"

I could only nod. So close to her lips, I wanted to kiss her so deeply. But I couldn't bring myself to make the move.

Emilie broke our embrace, and with a turn she swung the door open. Inside was an empty warehouse room, lit dimly with old incandescent bulbs. The orange glow didn't reach the corners of the room, shrouding the scale of the room. The only feature of the room that was visible was a metal structure in the middle of the room, and my eyes drifted to it immediately.

The structure was black-painted metal, and covered in straps. A padded bench stretched across its foundations, with over arching frames hanging locks and loops of chain.

I took a step back, but Emilie covered my held hand with hers in a pleading gesture.

"You said you'd trust me, right, Josh?"

"Emilie what is this, where's the party? Where are the people?"

"No people. No party. This is what I like. This is me. And this is how I like my men..." Emilie said with a crooked smile. "Experimental".

"What is that thing?"

"Its a toy! A way for me to test my men" she said, taking a step backwards into the room. Her voice was honey in my ears, and I felt my foot follow. "I told you I like when my men try. And when they're open to trying new things. I think that's so important"

With each word she guided me into the room. "Will you try for me, Josh?"

My heart was pounding in my ears. This was my dream, right? This was everything I ever wanted. I'd wanted Emilie for so long, I'd do anything to make this moment last. But what does saying yes mean? What is that bench?

"Do....do I tie you down?" I asked, stumbling over my syllables.

Emilie giggled, and I felt my knees go weak. "No silly. It's for you." My feet stopped moving. For me? What's for me? What would she do to me? Emilie felt my hesitation, and she took a step towards me, burying her head in my chest, rubbing my back gently as her body presses against mine. "Just follow me, and I'll show you how it works."

I couldn't stop my feet. I couldn't say no to Emilie. This is what I want. This is what I need. Right?

Dragged by my hands in a stupor, we approached the structure. The cushion on the bench was black leather, oiled and well kept. The black paint glistened in the dim light of the warehouse; where the rest of the room was dusty and grim, the frame was lovingly kept clean.

While taking in the sight, I barely noticed Emilie slide leather strap manacles over each wrist. She moved slowly, delicately, the padded leather brushing my skin. The straps pulled tight, my hands still free, but large metal rings on each wrist made me feel...vulnerable. Emilie didn't stop, taking my left hand in hers and intertwining our fingers, guiding my hand up to the top of the frame. Her lips move close to my neck, her breath making my hair stand on end, and as my eyes flick shut for a moment, I hear a click as my left hand is locked into one of the hanging chains.

"You just have to try it" she whispered, as my right hand followed upwards. "Trust me"

Resigned to my fate, I let out a sigh of absolute bliss at the feeling of her breath on my cheek. "I trust you, Emilie"

She stepped away, and I suddenly felt the chains pull tight.

"You shouldn't"

And the lights went out.

- Strapped In -

"Emilie?" I called out. Lost in the pitch black, I felt commotion around me, but I quickly lost track of her in the darkness. "Emilie!" I tried again, but I could only hear her breathing and footsteps. I heard her approach behind me, and I felt a blindfold pulled over my eyes, being strapped tightly behind my head. "EMILIE" I tried one last time in a panic, but this time my mouth was filled with something. Something....plastic? My lips held apart and stretched by the gag, I felt panic start to descend.

"MHHHMF" I tried to yell through the gag as the chains pulled my wrists higher. Totally helpless, I felt Emilie's soft hands start to undress me. My first my belt, jeans, zipped, and I soon felt myself standing exposed and my arms pulled apart. My excitement from Emilie's teasing in the light had left my modest cock hard. In the darkness, her fingers caressed my shaft, and despite my panic, my cock stood tall for her. Despite my panic, part of me still wanted this. This was Emilie, this was my dream girl. But is this all worth it?

In absolute silence, Emilie stroked my shaft. I moaned in the gag, I fought in the chains, but I felt myself approaching orgasm. I didn't want it to go this quickly. Not my first time with Emilie. I wanted more. With clinical efficiency, Emilie's fingers coaxed my throbbing cock to the edge of orgasm, and just before climax, I felt something cover my tip. Something soft and...rubbery. Her fingers disappeared as my ruined orgasm left my cock throbbing and spent.

With her quick, expert fingers, I felt her remove whatever it was from my tip. She massaged my cock until I was drained and soft, and my head was lost in post-orgasmic haze. Before I knew what was happening, I felt something....cold, surround my soft cock. First cold, then tight. So tight. And then the unmistakable *click* of a lock snapping shut.

My orgasmic haze cleared, and the sensations around me came flooding back. The huge gag in my mouth, the blindfold, the fur lined straps on my wrists. It was all an experience. But surely it's done now, right? This was Emilie's game, and now I've done my part. I let out a soft moan of approval.

And then the unmistakable giggle from Emilie broke the silence. The giggle that melted me just minutes before, now made my hair stand on end with fear. "Hope its not too tight, but it's necessary. You'll understand soon enough".

Necessary? What is this thing? Are we not done? Is she not letting me out? Uncomfortable and frustrated from my ruined orgasm, I felt more trapped than ever.

"Feet together, Molly"

Molly?

I felt a stinging whip on my exposed cheeks, and I quickly obeyed. Holding my feet together, I felt bonds being tied around my ankles and knees.

We're definitely not done yet.

With my legs tied, I felt Emilie start to unbutton my shirt...the feeling of being totally nude somehow feeling so much worse than being without pants. Post orgasm, every move becomes much more...sinister. So exposed. She made her way with my shirt, until she got to my sleeves, with my arms still locked....what is her plan? And with that thought, I heard the shearing of scissors as she cut the sleeves from my arms.

How am I leaving here without my shirt?

Now standing completely naked, I felt a cold, leather tip tracing lines all around my body....before a few quick strokes to my exposed ass elicited a sharp moan from behind my gag. "You're doing so well, Molly. We're almost ready to start. We just need to make sure you look the part."

Her soft voice was beautiful poison in my ears. Start? What has all of this been so far, I thought. And then a more terrifying thought, what could this all be preparing for?

I felt something cold being spread on my chest. Cold at first. Cold and then....warm. I felt something soft and rubbery, (maybe silicon?) being pressed onto the warm liquid on my chest. "You're going to love these, Molly" Emilie whispered in my ears, and I could feel her body pressing against my exposed skin. My body flushed with adrenaline and hormones again, but this time the lock on my cock held me from getting hard...this...cage? I'd seen chastity cages in porn before, but why would Emilie be using one in her play? Who is she talking to? Who is Molly?

With a guiding whip, Emilie prompts me to lift my bound feet. Struggling to lift my body weight using just my locked wrists, but with adequate motivation from Emilie's whip, I raised my feet and Emilie quickly looped something soft around my feet, working it up my body. The soft material slid up my exposed skin, making my cock struggle further in its cage. As she pulled it onto me, I could feel it cover my chest to my legs, tight against my body, tight against whatever she had attached to my chest. Grateful for a quick moment not to be so exposed, I hear her zip up the back of this...

Dress? This must be a dress? Why am I wearing a dress??

With a snap, I realize what's on my chest. Breastforms? Did she glue breastforms onto me? How am I supposed to get these off? How am I supposed to leave?

Molly. Why is she calling me Molly.

My breath quickening, panic rising, I felt Emilie pulling back my hair. I felt the tickle of hair on my shoulders, assuming it was Emilie's...until I felt the same cold and hot adhesive on my head. This wasn't Emilie's hair. This was my hair. She was gluing a wig onto me.

My panicked breath reached fever pitch.

Emilie disappeared again, and I was left alone with my terrified thoughts. The weight of the breastforms on my chest impossible to ignore. The long wig gently tickling my exposed shoulders with any movement of air. The soft material of the dress gliding across skin with every shift of my body weight. The tightness of the cage on my cock with every sensation leaving me in agony. And the pressure of the weight on my wrists.

What is happening to me.

And then, in the deathly quiet

*click-click-click*

I heard the unmistakable sound her heels again, with a gentle, mechanical squeak following behind. The squeaking stopped in front of me, but I heard Emilie make her way behind me. I could sense her close to me, inches from my ear. She tucked the hair...my hair...back behind my ear as she leaned in, her breath disturbing the long hairs, tickling my cheek...

"I told you not to trust me"

She unstrapped the blindfold, and let it fall away from my eyes.

In front of me I could see blonde woman tied to the same frame as me. She was dressed in a tight, pink clubbing dress that barely reached her thighs, with large cutouts exposing her hips. Black heels slipped onto her feet, with thin straps crisscrossing her calves. Her blonde locks were curled to perfection, as if plucked from a magazine cover. She looked ready for a perfect night out, except for her wrists tied over her head, her ankles tied together, and an enormous, bright pink gag.

Behind her stood Emilie, grinning like a demon. Dressed in her pseudo-dominatrix leather corset and pants, which an hour ago was just a cute clubbing outfit, but now represented her power over me in every way. She held a black riding crop in her left hand, her painted nails of her right hand tracing circles on the cheek of this party girl.

I broke down, tears welling in my eyes. I already knew the truth. I just didn't want to let it enter my mind. I knew that woman was me. I just couldn't bear to ask....why?

I didn't have to wait long.

"I know exactly who you are, Josh" Molly whispers with a grin. "I know you've been obsessed with me for years. All through high-school, I could feel your eyes on me. Like a little freak. But you couldn't just talk to me, could you? No, because you're a gross little beta. Coward. Freak." She whipped my ass harshly through the dress.

"You didn't even know me. You just saw me across the room...and wanted me. You spent forever lusting over me, but did you want to know me? Or did you want to see what I was wearing. Did you want to stare at my body at my locker. Did you want to watch me high kicking at cheer practice"

Two more strokes.

"You could have asked any time. Instead you kept me on a pedestal. An icon. An object. Do you have any idea how that feels? Every day, a piece of meat"

She pressed her body against me, her fingers tracing circles on my bare thighs, working her way towards my caged cock. "Mmm. You will. You'll know all about it soon enough"

"I'm sure you're wondering what this place is. It was almost the truth, we had a warehouse party here last week, rented it from a friend. I managed to keep the key, just in case we had a...need. And girl, you needed it so badly. This frame..." she said, pulling on my chains. "Really is my toy. Only usually I'm the one strapped in. I really do like a man who likes to try new things, though usually I'm his experiment."

"I hope you like that dress though, its one of my favorites. Don't you love the way it feels on your skin? I like to wear nothing under it when I go out dancing....I bet you can feel why. How does it feel being me, Molly? Strapped in. Wearing my dress. Are you feeling pretty yet?"

"I thought you might prove me wrong tonight. I thought you'd have the balls to try something. Last night, you came up to me and confessed your obsession. You said you'd do anything to be with me. You said you'd do anything to have me. Well I tried to give myself to you tonight. And you didn't take it. How many chances did I give you to kiss me? If only you could have kissed me, I would have strapped myself in instead and let you do whatever you want to me. If you had proved you could take me, I would have let you have me."

She smirked, knowingly.

"But we know that wasn't going to happen. That's why you're strapped in and I'm out here. You'd do anything to be with me, except try. So tonight you're going to learn what it's like to be me. What it's like for someone to take charge when you can't. What its like to be beta, submissive, and totally, inescapably trapped".

The doors of the warehouse slammed open, visible in the reflection of the mirror ahead. Backlit, three figures were visible making their way into the room. Frozen with fear, breathing heavily with panic, Emilie leans in and gives me a playful, taunting peck on my tearful cheek.