Introduction:
Heavily inspired by the last chapter of Tyjordâs Penalty Box. If you liked that story, you will like this one.
On the surface, Andrea Walden was a teenager just like any other. She went to high school, lived in the suburbs, and did nothing that set her apart from any of the other girls her age. She lived alone with her mother, who was often out of the house for business trips. Everyone knew that they were a completely normal family.
But that wasnât true. Andreaâs family was one of magic. Alissa, Andreaâs mother, had studied the ancient art of witchcraft since she was a young girl. She had been taught by her father, who had been a powerful magician himself. In fact, the Walden family had been teaching their children magic for more than three hundred years. It was a time-honored tradition.
Andrea spent her childhood learning nearly everything there was to know about magic, and that had given her more power than anyone her age had any right to have. But she also had a specialty, a branch of magic that she understood more than anyone else, including her mother. She was a mind magic savant.
She could brainwash anyone. She could convince a random stranger to do anything she desired, and it only took a few moments. Even more impressive was her ability to create lasting compulsions, to twist a personâs will in such a way that they retained her orders even when she was no longer fueling the spell. She could do much more than that, but that kind of magic was what she was most skilled with.
This was important. There was another aspect of Andreaâs lineage that had been part of the family for three hundred years. Every Walden, after they found what magic they were best at, became defined by that power. Their personalities were shaped by it. That magic was something they wanted to use, above all else. It became a part of them.
Andrea loved her mind magic. She loved the power she had over others. Her ability to control what someone thought or felt made her happy. She could become a god to a total stranger at the snap of her fingers, and that wasnât something she ever wanted to give up.
Andrea had been using her abilities since she was a small child. She had grown up with this power. To say that it had a huge impact on her development would be an understatement. She was the person she was today because of her magic. She was used to getting what she wanted, at least from people outside the family. Her mother was perfectly fine with Andrea practicing her mind control, so long as the people she took were changed back to normal afterwards and had their memories wiped.
Her mother was a distant woman. She never really seemed to care about Andrea, to see her as her daughter. She was only there to teach her magic and ensure that she never accidentally outed herself. Andrea was told again and again that magic was to always be kept a secret. No exceptions. When Andrea became old enough to handle herself, and convince her mother that she was responsible enough to no longer need supervision, her mother faded into the background. After a few years, when Andrea was finally a teenager, her mother had all but disappeared. She had her own studies and work to focus, and there was no time for a daughter in her life.
Andreaâs transition into being a teenager had given her new wants and needs. She was quick to discover that she loved sex. She used her powers to make others please her. It was an awkward thing, at least at first. But as Andrea grew older, she became more experienced. She was taught nearly every trick in the book when it came to bedroom games, first by men and then by both men and women. She grew up with it, like she did with her magic.
But then Andrea began to feel jaded. The casual pleasure failed to excite her like it used to. She wanted more. She started drifting towards the extreme. It started innocently enough, with silk scarves tied around wrists and ankles. Then came blindfolds and fuzzy handcuffs. She became more and more interested in BDSM. It seemed to resonate with her, the control she held over others was similar to the displays of power that could be found there. She experimented.
It was a journey of small steps. She switched between the bottom and the top, trying to find what fulfilled her most. Andrea liked the ravishment roleplay, the idea of a man or woman holding her down and having their way with her, but she never went very far with that. She had too much fun being the dominant one. She enjoyed it when her partners were set below her. She wanted them eager to please her, desperate to fulfill her every want and desire in any way they could. Then, when that by itself began to be dull, she went farther.
Andrea had one of her thralls buy her whips, crops, and canes from a fetish store. She made them teach her how to use it all, how to hold and swing them the correct way. She found that she was a natural sadist. Leaving her partners with tears in their eyes and red marks on their asses was her new favorite thing. Then Andrea started hurting them in different ways. She liked nipple clamps, new toys that delivered small electric shocks, and riding crops aimed for the most sensitive parts of the body. She tried it all and more.
It wasnât enough. She bought real BDSM gear, ropes and straps and rubber clothing. She even had her brainwashed thralls smuggle special furniture into the house, small beds and chairs that people could be tied to and still allow access to everything important. Andrea began to have her subs roleplay more and more often, and she drew on ideas and scenarios that she would have never even considered before. She started to adjust how her subs felt, changing them so they drew on the emotions that she wanted to see. Humiliation, shame, arousal, excitement. Other emotions as well.
Andrea began to forget that she could have sex without brutally dominating her partner. Taboos became something to find and break, if only to see whether she liked it or not. There were always more extremes to chase after. She started playing non-con games, scenarios where her partner was programmed to fight back and act like he or she legitimately wanted Andrea to stop, even as they felt pleasure from being taken. A few of her favorite thralls were changed so that they could flip from submissive to dominant at a snap of the finger, and Andrea started to hold orgies. Sometimes there were a few subs, other times it was just one unlucky man or woman in the center of the group. Andrea would join in or watch depending on her mood. She was happy with simple voyeurism, so long as the scene pleased her.
Just a little less than a month before Andreaâs seventeenth birthday, she came across a short moment of clarity. Andrea had a teenage girl, someone her age, locked in a pillory. Her head and arms were trapped in place while her naked ass was thrust out behind her. Andrea had one of her most talented male thralls slowly but thoroughly working over her ass with a flogger. Four other men were crowded around her face, all in line to receive a blowjob. Other than a compulsion that forced her to service whatever was shoved into her mouth, a mental tweak that made her body more sensitive, and a subconscious desire to please everyone in the room, Andrea had not done anything with her mind. She was basically the same person.
Andrea realized that she was having the teenage girl raped. The girl was crying and struggling to get out, and it wasnât part of some roleplay. It was the real thing. The sudden shock swept away the haze of pleasure that had been clouding her mind, and she was able to see the whole scene for what it was. An innocent girl was being held down and forced against her will by multiple men, all brainwashed to be merciless sadists.
She thought to herself, is this something Iâm okay with? Could I live with myself, knowing that I abused a girl like this?
Andrea thought some more. She examined herself with a critical eye, determined not to smooth over any fault. She needed to be totally honest with herself. She needed to know, without any shadow of a doubt, what kind of person she was. Was she going to let this happen?
Then, finally, Andrea nodded. Yes. Yes, she was. She did not have any problem with what she was doing. It was pleasurable, and she was enjoying herself. That was enough for her. There wasnât anything else to it.
Each man fucked the teenager twice. Her ass was beaten, first with the flogger and then the paddle, until it was as red as a ripe strawberry. Andrea then wiped the teenagerâs memory, installed some safeguards to keep her from wondering what happened to her body and the lost time, and programmed a compulsion to return a week later for another playdate. She was going to clean herself out with an enema before coming back to her house, Andrea explained. Next time the men were going to be fucking her in the ass instead of her mouth.
And then the girl left with a bright smile, a sour aftertaste in her mouth, and an aching ass that she wasnât allowed to consciously acknowledge. The men left next, they piled up into their cars and drove off, back to their lives that Andrea had temporarily interrupted. The neighbors, all under Andreaâs control, thought nothing of it. The Walden house invited people over all the time. There was nothing odd about it. They were a normal family, same as the rest of them. Everyone knew that.
Chapter 2
When she was first beginning to explore BDSM, Andrea did not have much free time. This was because she was forced to put on a show of attending high school. It had not taken her long to learn all the material from the minds of her teachers. Stealing all of their knowledge was a project that took her three weeks at most. It was an interesting diversion, but then she found herself listening to day after day of useless lectures. School was a waste of her time.
She couldnât not go, though. Appearances had to be kept. Andrea had limitless power over the human mind, but the same couldnât be said of paperwork. She had to have a record to prove that she was a normal girl, or serious problems could appear later in life. Andreaâs mother had made it clear how important this was. Andrea understood that.
But boredom, hedonism, and the constant need for entertainment was enough to chip away at those concerns. Like her sexual evolution, it began with a simple change. Andrea skipped a class, then brainwashed everyone to think that she had been there. It was more for the challenge than the actual free time. Manipulating so many minds, and ensuring there were no cracks in the cover-up, was the most difficult thing she had ever done. She not only had to convince more than thirty people of an easily disprovable lie, she had to do so in a way that wouldnât draw suspicion from anyone outside of class. If someone were to walk by and see that she wasnât inside the room, Andrea had to ensure that it wouldnât bite her in the ass.
She got away with it. Then, feeling emboldened, she tried it again. It worked a second time. There were no problems. Andrea began constructing what she called her security net; if someone did notice she was gone, then her classmates and the teacher would retroactively believe that she been skipping class. She improved the system over a series of carefully orchestrated stress tests. The few bugs in her programming were found and fixed in short order.
After all that, it seemed simple to include the school administration to her list of unknowing puppets. They were only a few people, and they were the most powerful authority figures she could have in her pocket. A series of subconsciously imprinted commands would get them to head off any trouble that came her way.
Those long months of work meant that Andrea could fail to show up to all of her classes and have a reasonable chance to get away with it. And because she had never bothered to make any friends, at least none that she hadnât used her mind magic on, nobody really noticed when she stopped coming to school. Her teachers didnât find it strange when huge piles of completed homework and tests appeared on their doorsteps. They just nodded, graded the papers, and gave Andrea an authentic paper trail for the rest of her freshman year. She was done with the school year long before the rest of the students.
It was easy to do the same thing for the next two years. The time she should have spent in high school was spent hanging around her house and wherever she made her thralls take her. She indulged herself. Andrea found beautiful men and women and brought them into her web, then used them to pleasure her. She reached hedonistic depths that she had never realized she could sink to. Andrea, after a while, began to study magic that let her manipulate the body just as well as the mind. At first this was to keep her body eternally young and fit, but she quickly discovered that there were many other things she could do with her newfound control over the human body. It let her discover even more new levels of depravity.
Andrea began to go farther and farther in search for new sexual highs. She slowly but surely sunk her claws into the whole town, drawing in the handsome, the gorgeous, and the influential. Sometimes by the dozens. Altered memories, clever planning, and her magical powers let her get away with nearly anything.
In her sophomore year, Andrea found a group of amateur film producers with professional recording equipment. With them, her carefully orchestrated scenarios were forever captured on high definition video. A few of the recordings were put on the internet, at least after they were edited so that everyone involved had their identities hidden. The exhibitionism thrilled her, as well as the idea of her victims unwitting humiliation.
By the time that Andrea had reached her senior year, there was next to nothing that she hadnât done at least once. She was once again beginning to feel jaded, though she was determined to break through her temporary slump. A new project was in order, something to push against her already wide boundaries. Winter break was coming up. She usually used the two weeks to play with high schoolers that were temporarily free from classes, but this year it sounded like the perfect opportunity to do something different.
Plans were drawn up, ideas were written down and set aside. Audrey brainstormed. She wrote up a proposal, then built on it. After five rough drafts, she was left with something that she actually felt a little excited about. It took BDSM to a ludicrously extreme level, it was beyond sadistic to the point of monstrous, and it would require her to put in serious effort to make it work. She would have to actually build some of the equipment herself. It was just what she needed.
Andrea already had a victim in mind. In fact, her plan required something that only one person had. She needed to take one of the few teenagers in town that could use magic. She needed Susan Lin.
Susan was the daughter of two Chinese immigrants. Their family only dabbled in magic, as opposed to the Waldenâs immersion. They knew next to nothing about the arts, with the notable exception of what they learned through their special affinities. Just as Andrea was unparalleled in her use of mind control, they intuitively understood their own branches of magic. In Susanâs case, that was something that would make Andreaâs plan more viable.
To top it off, Susan was attractive. She was relatively small, thin, and had short but lustrous black hair. She ran in track and field, and was very good at it, which meant she had a runnerâs build. Toned muscles, flat stomach, and plenty of endurance. Her face was delicate in the way that Asian women sometimes were. Like a porcelain doll, if Andrea had to draw a comparison. Susan was also the same age as Andrea.
The only negative that Andrea could find was that Susan was nearly flat as a board. Andrea didnât mind that. It looked good on her. Her body frame was well suited for it.
Andrea went through with her plan. Supplies were procured, machinery was installed. Her servants did most of the heavy lifting, but some things could only be made through magical crafting. Nobody but her could do that. It wasnât hard, but time consuming. That just made her anticipation grow.
Susanâs schedule was acquired. Her familyâs minds were carefully adjusted so that they would not notice her disappearance. Susan had plans to spend the break with her friends, but a few subconscious commands wiped that fact clean from all of their minds. She finished her work, and everything was in place.
Right after school, on the first day of winter break, Susan drove out of the school parking lot. She took the same road that she always did, the one that brought her home. But, for some reason, she found herself compelled to take a different route. She took a turn onto another road, and twenty minutes later her car was tucked away inside a thrallâs garage. It would be safe to leave it there for as long as Andrea needed it stored. Susan was driven to Andreaâs house and hustled inside within the next five minutes.
Andrea was ready to begin.
Chapter 3
When Susan regained awareness, the first thing she realized was that she didnât know where she was. After a few seconds of fuzzy thinking, she was able to remember that she had been driving home from school. Susan didnât know how she had gotten here.
She was sitting on a wood chair in the middle of a relatively fancy room. The floor was rich hardwood, a large couch and huge flat screen television was set up near the far wall in front of her, and there was a small minibar in the corner. A small window was set high up in the wall, and she could see snow through it. Susan figured that she was in someoneâs basement.
Susan tried standing up, but she couldnât move. Not because she was tied down, but because her body didnât do anything. She tried to do something, but nothing happened. She tried something simpler, like flexing a muscle, but she remained still. Only her eyes darted around.
A teenage girl stepped in front of her, entering her line of vision from the side. She wore a black outfit that was a combination of overcoat and skirt. It was very much like something a goth would wear. Her white cotton stockings somehow worked well with that. She had a small amount of makeup, mostly eyeliner, and long black hair. She was also utterly gorgeous, beautiful in a way that reminded Susan of a supermodel. No, she corrected herself, not a model. Their beauty was always something that was at least a little fake, because of special makeup and Photoshop. This woman looked real.
âHello, Susan,â she said in a chipper voice. âMy name is Andrea. Itâs nice to meet you.â
It took a few moments for Susan to realize her voice was working. âUm, hello. Whatâs going on? Where are we?â
âIn my basement. Youâre here because Iâve kidnapped you!â
Susan gaped. Her line of thought was completely derailed. She focused, and Andrea let out a small giggle. It was a condescending sound, and it was enough to surprise Susan. She didnât know what to feel.
âBut, but why? Where am I? What did you do to me?â
âI answered that last question already, geez,â Andrea said with a roll of her eyes. âYouâre in my house. That first question is a little complicated. But I can simplify it.â
Andrea waved her hands, like a magician revealing a new trick. âEveryone that can do magic has a specialty. One area that they are best at, above all others. Even someone with next to no training, like you, has a few legitimately impressive abilities.â
Susan paled. She knew that Susan could do magic. Andrea smirked.
âI am an unparalleled prodigy in mind magic. You? If I had to put a word to it, Iâd say your specialty is a sort of bodily self-improvement. It is something automatic, not so much a collection of spells.â
Andrea began to pace around Susan. She couldnât move, her body was still under Andreaâs control, so all she could do was watch with frightened eyes.
âThere are the obvious effects. You run faster, punch harder, and rarely ever get tired. But then there are some other things that Iâm not sure youâre entirely aware of. You have amazing flexibility, but your elasticity comes from a distinctly magical effect. You can be bent into nearly every position there is and your joints will never suffer for it. Your muscles never atrophy, and you are completely protected from things like bed sores or body aches. You could lay down in the same spot for weeks and never develop any problems because of it.â
Andrea stopped moving and looked Susan in the eye. The trapped girlâs mind warred between confusion, fear, and impotent anger. She wanted to punch the magic supermodel. âI th-â
âI know what youâre thinking,â Andrea interrupted. âWhat an odd thing to say! Well, youâll see what Iâm talking about soon enough. But first things first.â
Susanâs mouth clicked shut. She tried to open it, but she couldnât. She tried making noise, like she was humming, but nothing happened. Andrea shook her head. âI donât want any backtalk. Take off all of your clothes.â
Susan would have laughed in the strangerâs face if this had been any other situation. Now, though, she could only watch in horror as her body obeyed. She unbuttoned her blouse, then accidentally rustled her hair while she pulled it up over her head and threw it to the side. She wasnât wearing a bra, she didnât have a large enough cup to need one, and Susan blushed at the undisguised interest Andrea had for her chest. She didnât have much time to think about it, because then she was kicking off her tennis shoes. Her socks were rolled off her feet and tossed aside. Susan could only watch, a spectator in her own body, as she pulled down her pants. She didnât have much time to show off her white cotton underwear, because that came off just a few seconds later.
Susan stood in front of Andrea. She was completely naked. Her untrimmed pubic hair was a bush, and for some reason her nipples were hard. Probably because of the fear. Susan could feel the adrenaline running through her. She wanted to run, but she remained still.
Andrea looked Susan over. She nodded, slowly. âYou need a quick haircut, obviously. But I like what I see.â She waved her hand, and Susan felt a wave of soft heat run over the skin below her waist. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared. Hair fell down like rain; both her pubic hair and the tiny stubbles of leg hair that had grown since her last shave went to the floor.
The blush on Susanâs face felt strong enough to be an almost physical heat. She desperately wanted to cover herself. Her body posed, instead, spreading her legs and reaching down to open her sex with her fingers. Susan would have shouted and swore if she could. Her desperate attempts to stop herself did nothing.
Andrea laughed. âGood, good! You are spirited. I like that. Youâre going to need that. Hold on to those feelings for as long as you can.â
Andrea paused, then her expression became one of concentration. Something materialized from thin air between the two of them. It was a small, black ball. It was some kind of liquid, it shimmered and danced in place. The ball grew larger, expanding like an inflatable beach ball. It was the size of her head time it was finished. Susan could only stare. She had no idea what the thing was.
âItâs basically magic latex,â Andrea remarked, as if she could read her mind. Susan remembered that she could, actually. âI love using it. It has all sorts of properties you can play around with.â
She gestured, and the ooze threw itself at Susan. It broke apart against her chest with a splat, coating her with cold slime. Susan would have shuddered if she could move. Then, the ooze on her writhed like a living thing. It rapidly grew, like it had before, but now it moved to cover her body.
Susan could only wait while the slime squirmed. It crawled over her skin, and its touch was unpleasant. It went up to the bottom of the neck and then stopped there, but it didnât stop as it went down. It took a few incredibly uncomfortable seconds for it to smother her sex and reach her feet. Susan felt her body lift her legs, one at a time, so that the slime could cover her soles.
The ooze stopped there. Then, after a moment, the slime on her neck went back to moving up. It slithered over her jaw, her hair, her face. The only thing it didnât touch was her eyes, her nostrils, and her mouth. The cold, gooey texture made her want to jump and scream more than ever, if only so she could scrape it off. Her body did not do that.
âYeah, itâs very adjustable. You wouldnât believe how tight it can get. It can cling to you like a second skin. Very hard to move around when itâs like that. But donât take my word for it. Let me show you!â
The black ooze suddenly started to warm up. Like the heat that cut her hair, but a little hotter. The slime hardened, drying as the wet sticky glob solidified. All across her body, the ooze became heavier.
Then the ooze was no longer an ooze. It was like rubber, or latex. She didnât know how latex felt. This was something like rubber, but it clung to her skin. It was literally skintight, she realized. The rubber hugged Susanâs body from every angle, from every square inch of her body, with a strength that she could actually feel. The slime had turned into some kind of suit.
Andrea snapped a finger, and Susan suddenly found herself trying to walk forward. But she couldnât, because the latex around her legs wouldnât stretch far enough, and she was forced to awkwardly waddle a few tiny steps.
âPerfect,â Andrea declared.
She waved a hand, and all of Susanâs clothes and hair on the ground disappeared. She gestured a second time, and Susanâs eyes widened in shock as she was levitated off the floor. It felt like she was being held by dozens of strong hands. They were all grasping different parts of her body, through the latex. She could feel their cold touch on her arms, torso, legs, everywhere. Two of them were clutching her breasts, and two were near her inner thighs, suggestively close to her sex. Susan fumed, but she was unable to do anything. Andrea smirked, and Susan was taken farther into Andreaâs basement. Closer to the minibar in the corner.
They stopped in front of a blank wall. With yet another wave of Andreaâs hands, it turned into a door made of rich mahogany. âA secret room,â Andrea explained, âfor extra privacy.â She opened the door, pulled Susan in, and shut it behind her.
This room was very different than the one outside. It had thick black carpeting, soothing white walls, and a huge amount of what looked like medical equipment scattered around. Susan could barely understand what she was looking at, there was so much to take in. Stands, tanks, tables covered in bottles and cans and boxes. Much more. There were large television screens fixed to the walls and on top of some tables, wires everywhere, a few small computers, and in the middle of all the chaos was something that Susan could only call a coffin.
It was laying on top of a huge bench, or some sort of alter, that was high enough to leave the rim of the rectangular box a little less than chest high. It was made of some kind of gray metal. The coffin was open, and inside Susan could see it was full of cushioning with an indented shape of a person in the middle. The padding was a silver color, a shade that nearly matched the outside metal. The lid of the box, attached to a hinge, hung to the side behind the coffin.
âYou probably think you know whatâs coming next,â Andrea said cheerfully. âLet me tell you now. You donât. You just have an idea.â
Susan was guided towards a chair next to the coffin. She sat down, and the telekinetic hands immediately forced her legs open and her hands down against the armrest. It felt like a huge group of people were pinning her. Even if she had been able to control her body, which she still couldnât, the suit made any sort of movement difficult. Susan knew she couldnât force her way out, though she really, really wanted to. The hands were unnecessary. And she still couldnât talk!
Andrea rummaged inside a large cardboard box on the nearest table, then pulled out a silver boot. Other than the odd color, which was the same shade as the inside of the coffin, it didnât look like anything special. It was just a boot. But then Andrea waved her other hand, and the bottom of the boot stretched up. The arch was now something that Susan would see on a pair of high heels. Andrea gestured again, and it became even more pronounced. Susan couldnât image anyone actually wearing something like that. Andrea then set it back to normal.
âBut thatâs not all,â Andrea said with a showmanâs flair. She knelt down and slide in Susanâs bare foot. She couldnât really feel anything. The latex was in the way. The boot wasnât uncomfortable, at least. Until Andrea gestured again.
A bolt of electricity shot into her sole. It hurt, but it was more of a surprise than anything else. It was enough to have a muffled shout die in the back of Susanâs throat. Andreaâs mental control kept Susan from doing anything more than that. After a few seconds, when she had recovered, Andrea gestured again. Something hard and thin, like a cane, struck her right in the arch of her foot. It was much more painful than the electricity. Like the difference between a bee sting and an animal bite. Susan clenched and fought against the magic that muffled her swears.
Susan, rather abruptly, realized that the cane and the electricity had ignored the latex over her foot. It felt like it had touched her bare skin. She could still feel the latex, though. It was still clinging tight to her skin.
Andrea didnât say anything else. She just took another matching boot out and put it on Susanâs other foot. There was a short pause, and then both boots were set into high heel mode. The one with the very high heel. Susan was sitting, putting no pressure down, and it was still terrible. She could feel the strain on her heel and arch. It was a very soft, muted sense of pain. Susan did not know what to compare it to, because she had never worn anything with a high heel before.
Andrea went back into the box. This time it only took her a few moments to find what she was looking for. She showed it to Susan. It was a tiny silver sex toy, a rubber dildo in the shape of a dick. Andrea smirked, and Susan tried to bit her lip and failed as the beautiful magic supermodel knelt down in front of her spread crotch. She rubbed a finger across Susanâs sex, and the latex disappeared with her touch. Andrea got rid of it because it was in the way, Susan realized.
Susan was not a virgin. She had had sex before, once. She had broken her hymen. It wasnât like she had never put a toy inside herself, either. What Andrea held in her hand was barely bigger than her index finger, and about as wide. But even something that small was too much. She was hyperaware of her own body, and of the warm fingers on her outer folds. Susan couldnât stop Andrea. Susan, for the first time, finally began to understand that she was trapped.
Andrea teased it across her lower lips, but then abruptly decided to push it in. Susan, unable to do anything but let it slip inside, was surprised when she didnât feel much of anything. There wasnât little there to penetrate her with. The sense of upcoming violation deflated somewhat. She thought that there was going to be more.
Then the sex toy suddenly began to expand. It pushed against the walls of her sex, both going deeper and getting wider. Susanâs body remained stock still as the toy very quickly became painfully large, and then she struggled to shout as the toy only slowed its growth, instead of stopping. The plug grew wide, the tip went farther in. It was huge, beyond anything she had felt before. It only stopped when Susan was utterly convinced she was going to burst open.
Susan panted out short, quick breaths. A thin layer of sweat clung on her forehead, she could feel it smear against the tight latex. All she could focus on was the huge pressure inside of her. The sex toy was so terribly filling that it was hard to think about anything else.
Andrea hummed a tuneless noise while she examined Susanâs sex. The end of the dildo, the base, was not as large as Susan would have expected. It was big, but not titanic. Not like how it felt. Susan could see part of Andreaâs unbearably smug expression stare at her sex. âAnother positive aspect of your magic. Your young, tight pussy will never change. It will stay the way that it is now no matter what happens.â
Andrea poked a finger against the base of the sex toy. That small push, and the very tiny thrust of the toy, was enough to have Susanâs eyes pop. There wasnât room to do things like that. Andrea rose up, her face very close to Susan. Susan could feel her warm breath against her face. Andrea tilted her head so her mouth was right next to her ear. âYes,â she whispered. âIt will never get looser. You will stay tight, no matter how much abuse you go through. You will become very familiar with this feeling, Susan.â
The threat rattled her. While Susan was dealing with what was inside her, and desperately wondering how to get out, she was only half aware of Andrea going back to the box. But her eyes immediately focused on what Andrea brought out. The same toy as before, a small silver dildo. It took her a second to figure out what was going to happen. Susanâs need to get out became even stronger.
Andrea knelt down. She wiped a finger across Susanâs anus, and the latex was gone. Susan was sure that it would take Andrea at least some effort to get the toy inside her. She was tense, to put it mildly. But once again her own body betrayed her. The toy slid into her channel like it was nothing, then clenched down on the plug and kept it in place. Andrea stood back up and caught Susanâs eyes. She smiled.
The second toy grew. It became larger, longer, wider. Susan fought for the right to howl as it became more than anything she had ever felt, and then it kept going. It slowed down soon after, but that was worse in its own way. It drew out the process, gave her more time to focus on the overwhelming sense of being split apart. It didnât stop. Every second it kept going was one that she surely thought was the last, but it kept going. She was aware of every extra millimeter the dildo took, because it was one she didnât even realize she had to give until it was gone. Then it was done.
One huge dildo inside her had been terrible. Two was indescribable. Susan, for the first time in her life, really understood what it meant to be full. She was full. There was no room left. She really didnât want to move now, because she could jostle the dildos. She couldnât image how that would feel. It was already more than she could take.
Andrea let out a short laugh. âWow, Iâm reading your thoughts right now, and I think thatâs a little melodramatic. I mean, youâve never done anal before. This is your first experience with it, right? Hah. You just didnât know what to expect.â
âBut seriously,â she added, âyouâll get used to it. Believe me. You donât have a choice.â
Susan was levitated up into the air. The phantom hands grasped her from all angles, through the latex, and they were careful not to move her around too quickly. The toys inside her were not touched, even as Susanâs unprotesting body was flipped over so that it faced the ground. Susan was slowly moved over until she hovered right above the open coffin.
Susan could do nothing but hopelessly stare down as Andrea walked over to do something that she couldnât see. Her eyes were on the coffin, and the human shaped hollow. She didnât know what was going to happen after she went inside. She had ideas, but she didnât dare think too hard about what she thought. She desperately wanted this moment to never end, because she didnât want what was coming next. The ache in her privates were horrible.
âAlright,â Andrea said to herself. âA few more things.â
Two clear plastic tubes were shoved into Susanâs nose. Andrea kept going, pushing the tube farther into her nostrils, even as Susan mentally panicked. It wasnât painful, but it did not feel good. Once the tubes were apparently deep enough, Andrea made Susan breath through her nose. She didnât have any problems doing so, though it felt odd. It was hard to describe. It didnât hurt at least. Andrea nodded, and then a familiar black glob of slime appeared. It slinked over to her nostrils, and the sudden wet cold very quickly turned into the familiar feel of rubber. Her nose was sealed, though the breathing tube still worked.
Then came a ball gag. Susan had only seen one before, in a video. Her first though was that she would never be able to fit that into her mouth, it was too big. Then Andrea was pressing it against her lips, which opened as wide as her mouth could go, and her next thoughts were a series of curses and mental struggling. As it turned out, the gag did fit. It took up a lot of room, her cheeks bulged and her jaw was forced wide open, but it did.
Then Andrea had it pump out, like the dildos. It grew in her mouth until there wasnât any room inside at all, outside of a small hollow her tongue could slither around. Her mouth, for lack of a better word, was blocked. Now the breathing tubes were the only way to suck in air.
A thick plastic tube was taken out and somehow threaded through the gag inside Susanâs mouth. It went through the gag like it was not there, then down her throat. Susan wanted to choke at the sensation, but her body did nothing. Andrea was very quick to get the tube down as far as she needed it to be. When she was done, she let go of the tube and it stayed in place, trapped by the gag itself. Andrea wiped her fingers over Susanâs lips, and latex grew over her mouth, sealing it just like her nose. Andrea caught Susanâs expression and said, âItâs a feeding tube. Donât want you to starve.â
Andrea pulled over a wheeled IV stand that Susan had not paid any attention to. A catheter bag hung from the top hook. Andrea took the small see through tube attached to the bag, which ended in a small metal point, and brought it to Susanâs crotch. She was unable to stop her from spearing her with it, a sensation that was only momentarily painful and then just exceedingly uncomfortable. She was now hooked up to the catheter. Another object was filling her up. No yellow stream flowed through the tube.
Andrea held rubber earplugs. They went in Susanâs ears almost immediately. Unlike everything else Andrea shoved into her, these didnât hurt. But she couldnât hear a thing, not even when Andrea spoke. She took out a small microphone from somewhere Susan couldnât see and flicked it on. âCan you hear me? Testing, testing. Alright, good.â
Andrea put it back down, then went to her knees. The other end of the feeding tube and the breathing tube hung below Susan, down into the padded hole that her face would rest inside. Andrea did something, it must have been magic, because the ends of those tubes were pulled out of the box. The metal walls where the crown of her head would point to now had two tubes threaded through it.
Andrea stood up. She took a few steps back, her face now expressionless. Then, finally, Susan began to fall. She slipped down at a snailâs pace, a speed that inversely matched the rate her apprehension grew. The human shaped hollow in the padding grew, became larger, until it took up all the space in her vision. The dildos still hurt, they still filled her, and the pain mixed together with the drop into something that made Susan desperately wish, beyond anything she had ever felt before, that she could move her body. She strained against the mental commands that kept her still. Nothing happened.
She was dropped into the cushioning with a tenderness that inexplicably reminded Susan of her mother tucking her in for the night. Her whole body became surrounded by firm yet comfortable padding. It pressed against her body with the same inescapable pressure as her latex suit. She was being cradled inside the coffin. She could not see, because there was nothing in front of her eyes but darkness.
Her world was what she felt, what she saw, and what she could hear. Which was all nothing. The sensory deprivation was inescapable. Except that wasnât entirely true. Her body still felt strain. Her feet, her mouth, and especially her privates. Even the latex was intolerable, in its own way. It was like a fist was clenched down on her whole body. For a short time, that was all there was. Nothing but her and what she felt. Susan focused on her breathing, just for something to cling to.
Then Andrea grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back. Each hand was made to firmly grasp her other armâs elbow. It was not a strenuous position, at least not for her. She did have flexibility. Once Andreaâs hands were no longer touching her, Susan found herself unable to move her arms or hands. Not even her fingers. It was unsurprising.
Another pause. A long one, this time. But then, out of nowhere, Susan could see. But it wasnât out of her eyes. She was back in the room, hovering in the air. She could see the closed coffin, as well as Andrea. She looked up to Susan and gave her a grin.
Susan could see herself. There was nothing there but black latex. Her body perfectly fit inside the cut-out silhouette, she realized. There wasnât even a crack between the rubber suit and the coffinâs padding. It was holding her just as tightly as the latex. No wonder she felt like someone was squeezing her.
Andrea gestured to one end of the coffin, the one near her feet. The viewpoint changed, and she saw that a large, thick tube now sprouted out of the box. Her catheter tube and just about a dozen electrical wires were also poking out. The wires all seemed to connect to one of the machines near the floor. Susan was unsure what the large tube was for. Whatever the case, the metal wall near her feet was otherwise seamless. The holes in the coffin were just large enough for the tubes and wires to fit through. It was tight enough to seal air.
Then the view was switched to the front of the coffin, near the crown of her head. The feeding tube and her breathing tube was protruding out the box. But there was also a smaller tube, one with a size that was somewhere in between the two. Susan didnât understand what it was for. Just like before, the coffin was otherwise still flat metal.
Andrea paused. She stared at right into Susanâs eyes, into the air. Then, without looking away, she flipped a hand. The coffinâs lid, which had been hidden away from her sight, flipped up. It slowly rose, pointed straight up into the air, and then fell. The coffin was closed with a muffled bang. Susan could feel it. Padding now pressed against her back, surrounding her totally.
Andrea finished locking Susan inside the box with little ceremony. The coffin lid was sealed shut with the use of magic, so much so that the seam was made all but invisible. But Andrea still pulled out a fistful of thick steel padlocks. Apparently, there were small holes in the edge of the coffin lid that went through the coffin itself. She hadnât seen the holes before, but they were there. The padlock shackled the coffin lid shut, the length of the steel loop barely long enough to go through the hole and still poke out farther down the box. Two, four, six, and then eight padlocks were snapped on the coffin. Each had its own key.
Andrea individually locked each padlock shut, one after the other. Once Susanâs encapsulation was complete, and Andrea had all the keys, she held them in her hand with a dubious expression. She shrugged, then tossed them into a glass jar.
âI know I can just magic locks off the box,â she said into the microphone. âBut itâs the spirit of the thing, you know? Youâre not leaving any time soon. In fact, youâre not getting out until winter break is over. Thatâs two weeks from now.â
Andrea paused. âWell, letâs wrap this up. Susan, you can now move again. I noticed how frustrated you were getting. Well, that particular mind trick is finished.â
Susan did try to move. Her muscles strained, her body responded. She could control her breathing. But she did not move. Not a millimeter, not a fraction of a millimeter. She was utterly immobile. The sudden claustrophobia threatened to overwhelm her.
âOnly two more things to do, and then weâre done for today.â
The cushioning underneath Susanâs chest stirred. She couldnât think of any other way to describe it. It moved sluggishly, like it was a real thing. Two holes opened underneath her breasts, and her nipples poked through. They were still hard, even after everything that had happened. The cushioning closed, like jaws. Or two hands clenching. Susan felt pain as her nipples were pinched.
Then the padding near her crotch moved, right above her pussy. She didnât really have time to understand what was happening, not until it pressed down against her clit. It pinched. Not very hard, but it didnât need to be. It was just as painful as what was happening to her nipples. Probably more.
Andrea didnât speak. Susan was left panting through her nose, groaning and grunting into her brutal gag. Her pussy, her ass, her mouth, and now her nipples. She didnât know how she was supposed to handle this. It was too much. Sensory overload. There was nothing else to focus on.
Then Andrea yawned. It was a gently, carefree sound. Susan hated it. She hated how she suffered while Andrea stood there without a care in the world. She was still beautiful, like she stepped out of a beauty salon. âYou may not know it, but itâs getting late. Itâs going to be time for bed soon. Iâll wake you up the morning. Then the real fun can begin.â
Susan didnât have time to process that last sentence. Her eyes fluttered. Consciousness seemed to slip out of her grasp. Then she was asleep.
â
Chapter 4
It had been three days since Andrea had captured Susan. A routine had already been formed.
Andrea woke to the blare of her alarm clock. She slapped it off, took five more minutes to doze, then shambled out of bed. She didnât bother to change out of her clothes, a billowing white shirt and a pair of black panties. She would put something on once she was ready to leave the house. Andrea wandered downstairs into the kitchen. She cooked some potatoes, eggs, and bacon, then threw it all together in a bowl. It was delicious.
Then Andrea went down to the basement, towards the secret room where Susan was held. Once inside, she checked the monitors to see if anything had happened while they both slept. But things were the same as they always were, and Susan was still waiting to be woken up.
Andrea snagged one of the modified drip bags she had laying around and took it over to one of the chairs in the back. She slipped her panties down to her ankles, sat on the edge of the chair, and held the open bag underneath her. Andrea sighed, relaxed, and let herself piss.
With a touch of magic, every drop made its way into the bag. There was quite a lot this morning, but that didnât surprise Andrea. She had begun drinking plenty of water in the hours before she went to sleep. More than a few glasses. It was a habit worth forming, one that was a healthy alternative to sugary soda. Or so she would say if anyone were to ever ask.
That was not the only sign of Andreaâs new interest in her health. She was also drinking a new herbal remedy every night before going to bed, a tea that was supposed to boost her immune system. It was very good for her body, but it did have a small side effect. It made her urine smell foul, and it also gave it a sour taste. But that was the price to pay for good health.
Andrea held the bag half full of hot piss with one hand while the other dragged her underwear back up. She stood and walked back over to the coffin, towards the stand that held Susanâs catheter bag. It was half full as well. Andrea knelt underneath that bag, twisted open a small nozzle, and let it empty out into the bag in her hand.
The stale, lukewarm piss mixed in with her own. The oldest of it was from the night before, when it was last emptied. A normal person wouldnât be able to produce enough urine to fill this much of a bag in a single day, but the special diet she fed Susan and her own supernaturally enhanced body had her expelling far more liquid waste than she would otherwise. It probably did something to the taste as well, though Andrea could only image what. She gently shook the now full bag, churning all the piss into a single mixture, and she decided that she didnât care enough to find out.
A large metal stand was set up next to the head of the coffin, and it held a number of steel storage tanks and drip bags. Andrea unhooked an empty bag and put the one filled with piss in its place. Then, after checking the food tank to see if there was enough inside for the day, she walked over to the central control panel. It was already on, and it was displaying vital signs, Susanâs current psych profile, the status of all pieces of equipment, and many other important things. Andrea pressed a few buttons.
A pump was activated. It was connected to the two tubes that were fed through Susanâs sizable mouth gag. The food, some tasteless mush that would provide the body with all the nutrients it would need, was slowly pushed through the larger tube and into her stomach. A second tube, much smaller than the first, began to collect the piss and sent it to her mouth.
The smaller tube was something that she had thoroughly tested long before she had even thought of Susan. It was a specially designed feeding tube that sprayed its contents into the mouth and suctioned them back out after letting it sit inside for five to ten seconds. A steady stream of piss would flow through her mouth and down her throat, with plenty of time spent letting her enjoy the taste, and Susan couldnât spit it out or swallow it away.
Andrea also had the end of Susanâs breathing tubes attached to the frame just above the piss. When it came to taste, being able to smell what you had in your mouth was just as important as what was on your tongue.
A light flashed on the console. Andrea nodded to herself. It appeared that Susan was now awake, no doubt because of her breakfast. Before she forgot, Andrea switched Susanâs boots from their default flat arch to something with a moderate heel. Nothing too bad, just something to hold her attention. The microphone was sitting on the table next to the console. Andrea picked it up and flicked it on while she walked over to the other side of the coffin.
âGood morning, sunshine,â Andrea said. Her voice was as chipper and carefree as she could make it without sounding fake. âItâs a beautiful day outside. Bright and cold, but itâs a dry chill. It snowed last night. Itâs the perfect kind of snow, the kind that has all the kids outside throwing snowballs and rolling up snowmen. Iâm actually going to take a walk, thatâs how nice it is. I donât usually do that. Anyways, I donât plan on being back until noon. Daylight is burning, so Iâll have to make this quick. Youâve got a big itinerary today. Thereâs lots to do.â
The stands behind the coffin held just as many tanks and bags as the front, though they were all different sizes. The large tube that was connected to Susanâs butt plug was attached to a tank in the middle of a veritable spider web of piping. Over half the containers there were directly or indirectly hooked to her butt plug. She fiddled with a few of the containers. âI donât think I told you this yet, but I like to schedule our little play sessions through narrow focuses. Yesterday was orgasm denial and electric shocks, obviously. It looked like it got pretty intense near the end! Iâm sure it was a load of fun, though. Iâm going in the other direction today. This is going to be something meaner.â
Andrea paused. She knew that Susan was hanging on her every word. âCorporal punishment and enemas!â
Everything was prepped and ready. Andrea sauntered back over to the control panel. âYou should thank your magic for this wonderful opportunity, Susan. It is incredibly unhealthy for the human body to go through multiple enemas one after the other. Too much of anything is bad for you. But you will never have to worry about that! Your magic protects you, it will always keep your body healthy. I donât have to worry about any long-term problems. You can take as many enemas as I like.â
âYour magic also means your body can hold more liquid than most other people can,â Andrea added. âItâs not necessarily less unpleasant. But todayâs activities arenât supposed to be soft and fun. So, itâs alright.â
Andrea was still happy about that discovery. She knew about the protection, but the increased carrying capacity was a total surprise. She had a sneaking suspicion that Susan was going to bitterly regret Andrea finding out about that little extra detail. Andrea wasnât going to let this gift go to waste.
But the enema was only half of the special theme for the day. The second was the corporal punishment, and for that Andrea had her very special cushioning. The padding that held Susan could do more than just move. In fact, it could do just as much as the boots on her feet. Any amount of force could be delivered, in any shape or size, hot or cold, and electricity was just one call away. The level of detail that the material could deliver was unreal, something that could only be done through magic.
Andrea had carefully tested out the features on herself, though obviously on the least painful settings. The crop slapping her ass had felt real, not like part of the coffin itself. She swore that she felt the wood from the paddle, as well as the leather from the whip. With a few tweaks, she could even simulate matching sounds. The simple addition of a swish of the cane and the heavy sound of flesh against wood added so much immersion. She was very proud of her work.
Andrea had a number of preprogrammed routines inside the console. She went into one of the menus and pulled out what she had set up for this morning.
Enema â Punishing
Types Available: [Milk], [Water], [Soapsuds], [Hot Sauce], [Ice], [Extra Cramps], [Tabasco and Spice]
Size: [Medium â Very Large]
Retention Time: [Medium â Maximum]
Corporal Punishment â Punishing
Types Available: [Flogger], [Riding Crop], [Paddle], [Cane], [Whip]
Locations: [Asscheeks], [Thighs], [Feet], [Breasts], [Nipples], [Back], [Clit]
Strength: [Medium â Severe]
Electric â Supplementary
Locations: [Clit], [Asscheeks], [Vaginal Dildo], [Anal Dildo]
Strength: [None â Low]
Teasing â Supplementary
Locations: [Clit Vibrator], [Vaginal Vibrator], [Anal Vibrator], [Nipples]
Strength: [None â Minimum]
There were plenty of enemas to cycles through. Once one was finished, it would be pumped out and replaced with another. There was a pleasingly wide variety of corporal punishment instruments as well. Everything else, the electric shocks and the teasing, was just a little extra on top of that. The programs in the console would watch Susanâs mind and body, then develop a plan based on what was observed. The machine was very good at judging when to push harder and when to back off. When it wanted Susan to feel something, it always delivered. It created an experience, to put it simply.
That wasnât surprising. The machine had the benefit of being able to connect what Susan felt with what the machine actually did, which it used to model what its future actions would cause Susan to feel. It was easy to skim the edge of going too far when it knew just how far that actually was. The machine took advantage of that whenever it could.
But there were different tones that could be set. Andrea switched the machineâs attitude, for lack of a better word, from âTeasingâ to âCruelâ, then set the timer to four hours. Andrea pursed her lips and thought. She did plan on getting back before noon, like she said, but something might slow her down. She went deeper into the settings and toggled the loop function. If the programs reached the end and she was not there, it would just start back at the beginning.
Well, no time like the present. Andrea pressed the start key. The near silent hum of running machinery started to fill the room. A pump began to run. The screen blanked. Then it was replaced by clinical description of what the machine was doing. Each action it took, and potential future actions it planned to take, were displayed.
Andrea took one last look at the console. Everything seemed to be in order. What else was there? But then Andrea remembered. As someone who was a master of mind magic, she understood how essential it was to stimulate the brain. All of this was well and good, but Susan needed something more than that. She needed something that would help her think and stay aware.
Andrea went into another menu on the console. She had huge playlists full of audio files, created and sorted through thanks to the long and tedious efforts of her thralls. There were so many files it would take literal days to hear them all. None of them were things like music or audiobooks.
She pressed âShuffle â Programâs Choiceâ. Sound filtered through small speakers in the base of the microphone, letting her hear what Susan was now listening to. It was the whistle of a paddle being swung and the heavy slap of hard plastic against flesh. A low grunt was let out, one that sounded more aroused than in pain.
The audio files were all ripped from countless porn videos, as well as her own homemade videos. That included the many that she had never uploaded to the internet. She recognized this file, it had come from one of her private videos. It was from the time she picked up a nurse that she no longer remembered the name of. She was fun.
Andrea could have also shown Susan the video as well as the audio. It would be a simple thing to do. She had control over Susanâs mind, it was a matter of making her see what Andrea wanted her to. But, Andrea liked having her blind. It was more psychologically crushing. The poor girl was completely unable to move, unable to do anything but passively accept everything that Andrea wanted to do to her body. All of her holes relentlessly and endlessly penetrated, forced to suffer through extreme and depraved tortures, all sorts of violationsâŚ
Well. Andrea liked the idea of her being unable to see.
âIâll leave you with something to listen to while Iâm gone,â Andrea said into the microphone. The paddle hit the woman again. She let out a lusty groan. âIâm going now. Have fun!â
Andrea walked out. The door disappeared behind her, taking away the only way in and out of her secret room. The lights above cut out, enveloping the room in almost total darkness. It was silent, save for tinny pornographic groans and the soft hum of machinery. The only light came from the computer screen, where the machine still faithfully displayed what it was doing to Susan.
A gallon of hot water with a packet of Andreaâs special extra cramping powder mixed in was being poured into her ass. The machine planned to have Susan hold it for a few minutes short of her observed maximum retention time. It had scheduled six minutes of moderately painful riding crop strikes to her clit, with the addition of the occasionally surprise cane swipe to her ass. There was also intermittent nipple twisting and pinching. Lastly, there was some very soft and almost pleasurable electric shocks being sent through the pussy dildo, which was combined with some moderate fucking.
By deflating the dildoâs width, then carefully expanding it out from the base onward, the machine could stimulate the feeling of penetration even as the toy remained inside her. Slightly heating the dildos and changing their outer texture to feel like skin gave the illusion that they were real, not just a toy under the machineâs control. It was very good at imitating sex, if it chose to do so.
It had been used to great effect last night, when the machine had spent hours doing nothing but sexually teasing Susan to the brink of orgasm. This time, though, the focus was more sadistic, and the machine was not as concerned with her level of arousal. The machine had decided the fucking was to be composed of short, solid thrusts. Nothing loving, tender, or even passionate. Just rhythmic penetration. The electricity would give the sensation an edge.
All of this was being done at the same time. The machine was also monitoring the piss that still flowed through Susanâs protesting mouth, along with the way her nose curled and twitched at the stench being sent through her breathing tube. It was easy to keep track of all these things, because the machine was in control of it all. Susan had no choice but to feel, hear, see, taste, and smell what the machine dictated. Itâs passionless programming held all the power.
Susan, trapped inside the coffin, unable to move, could only lay there and suffer Though the torture was just beginning, it was already promising to be a long, long day.