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Bondage Asylum No.1
Published by Lot’s Cave
Bondage Asylum No.1
Bound and Gagged in the Asylum, © 2017, by Kristine Lichtlider
Cover by Morgaine Wrightman
All Rights Reserved
All Characters In This Book Are Age 18 Or Older
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Lot’s Cave website and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Lot’s Cave Novel
Caitlyn shifted onto her side when she heard the jangle of keys outside her cell door. The straight jacket she wore kept her crossed arms pinned over her abdomen, making the maneuver difficult and awkward. A grunt escaped her gagged mouth as she landed harder on her side than she had intended.
The huge rubber plug in her mouth was dreadful, stretching her mouth wide open and so long it tickled the back of her throat. If she moved her head too much the gag's tight buckles dug into the back of her skull. As usual, it had been next to impossible to sleep in the gag. Every time exhaustion shoved her past the veil of slumber, she succumbed to nightmares of suffocation and choking. Breathing was labored while wearing such a device.
She squinted her eyes shut tightly.
Oh, please don't say it's morning already, she thought desperately.
The keys clanked in the lock, and her door swung open.
“Good morning, princess,” said the gravel throat ed, smarmy voice of Tim the orderly. Caitlyn whimpered as his hand knotted up in her curly blonde hair. She squealed as he maneuvered her into a sitting position on her hard cot. Tim was in his late thirties, heavyset with a beard that seemed to trap every Cheeto and Ramen Noodle that attempted to make it into his mouth. His hygiene was also suspect, as he smelled like a urinal in a locker room that hadn't been cleaned for months.
Tim leered at her, and she turned her head, looking toward the cold white brick wall. Other than the jacket and gag, she wore nothing. The strap running through her crotch was so tight it separated her outer labia, nestling between them and rubbing against her most sensitive flesh.
“Oh, how did this happen?” he said with mock alarm. His pudgy hand reached up and gripped a zipper near Caitlyn's shoulder. She glared at him as he pulled it down and manhandled her left breast through the aperture. The metal of the zipper grated against her soft skin as Tim pinched her nipple hard, using it as a handhold to arrange her tit just the way he wanted, with most of its mass through the hole.
Caitlyn tried to say OW, but of course it came out a garbled mess. Still, she knew Tim understood her, because he tilted his head to the side and grinned.
“Ow, you said?” he asked, still pinching her nipple. “So, this hurts?”
He squeezed harder, dragging on the nipple and making her bend at the waist. Tears dribbled out of Caitlyn's eyes as he laughed at her plight. When he finally released her, blood rushed back into her tortured teat, magnifying her agony a hundredfold. She sobbed as he unzipped the other side and squished her tit out of the rectangular hole.
“There we go,” he said “we want to make sure the ventilation slots are nice and open. Now, let's begin your day with a gynecological exam.”
Caitlyn squealed, shaking her head no. Tim shoved her onto her cot, sitting atop her wildly squirming body. He had little trouble strapping her ankles to the legs of her bedframe, stretching her wide open.
Choking on the spittle that ran down her throat, Caitlyn wailed NO again and again, but only guttural mumbling made it past the gag. She could do nothing as Tim stroked his hand down the inside of her thigh, moving ever closer toward her helpless twat.
“You have such great skin,” he said “you rich Orange County cunts always do. Bet you never thought you'd have a loser like me touching you like...this!”
His finger stroked over her clit hood, and Caitlyn's traitor body responded. Her clit swelled as her cunt opened wider, dripping milky white juice.
“Oh, do we like that?” he asked in a whisper, leaning over and scraping his stubble across her cheek. Caitlyn shook her head violently, which only made him laugh.
“Yes we do,” he said playfully. “You love it, don't you? You love me playing with your shaven snizz.”
Suddenly his face contorted into a savage snarl. Tim grabbed her hair with his free hand and forced her to nod.
“Say YES,” he said emphatically. “Don't make me angry. Instead of taking you to your group therapy session, I can strap you to a gurney with your legs spread wide and leave you on floor 3.”
Caitlyn fairly screamed behind her gag. Floor 3 was where the truly demented inmates were housed. Unlike Caitlyn and the others in Dr. Stern's treatment program, the lunatics on that level were seldom restrained unless they were violent towards staff. Otherwise t hey were given free reign until lights out. If he left her bound, exposed body out in front of those maniacs…
As Caitlyn sobbed, she furiously pulled against the jacket restraining her in a futile but determined struggle. Tim seemed to enjoy her attempt at resistance, a smile creasing his ugly face.
“Too bad there's no time to fuck your ass,” he said, releasing her ankles from the bedframe. Sneering, he threaded the strap between her thighs once more and yanked it tight. Caitlyn's feet came off the floor as he hoisted her bodily to ensure a tight fit. After he buckled it securely, Caitlyn's soft cunt was compressed brutally. “Let's go.”
Tim took hold of her mass of tangled curly hair and pulled her head down to waist height. Then he dragged her along, out of her cell and into the starkly white spartan hallway. All Caitlyn could see were tiles passing by, as usual. The staff always moved the inmates in her group around in stress positions. At this point, she believed prison would have been a much better choice.
Her back ached as Tim led her about like livestock. It was nigh impossible to keep her balance while bent over with her arms pinned by the jacket, meaning most of the trip at least some of her weight was being held by her own hair.
Tim let go of her hair long enough to pull out his keys. As he fumbled to get them into the lock, Caitlyn's tired back and aching calves gave out. She tumbled to the floor, grunting in pain behind the gag. As she squirmed about, trying to get to her feet, one of her heels connected solidly with Tim's ankle.
“Ow!” he howled, leaning against the wall and checking his injured limb. “You attacked me!”
Caitlyn shook her head, trying to plead behind the gag that she was innocent, that it was all a mistake. Of course, all that escaped from behind her well plugged mouth was utterly incomprehensible.
“What did you call me?” he roared, grabbing the short cattle prod at his belt. He shoved it against Caitlyn's naked ass and pushed the button. She jerked about spasmodically as her body seized with the force of electricity being forced into it. Her teeth bit down on the gag and white spots blurred her vision before her finally pulled it away.
The door opened, though Tim had yet to insert his key. A tall woman stood in the doorway, with broad shoulders and a clearly muscular build that did nothing to diminish her femininity. Her beautiful, if severe, face was drawn into a suspicious frown. Long blonde hair the color of honey flowed to either side of that stern gaze.
“Timothy,” she said “what is the meaning of this ruckus? And why is my patient on the floor?”
“Dr. Stern,” he said, smiling wanly. “I...she, uh...she dropped herself to the floor and started kicking me. Look at my ankle! It's already starting to swell.”
Dr. Stern sighed, and looked down at Caitlyn. Azure eyes peered over her red rimmed glasses, and they were full of disapproval.
“Miss Wells,” she said, her tone dripping with reprimand “I am ashamed of you. Assaulting a guard is worth five hundred demerits.”
Caitlyn squealed, struggling up to her feet. She fought the jacket, trying to plead from behind the gag her innocence. Stern had given her so many demerits already! Demerits led to being held back in the program, and a longer term in the facility than the original sixteen weeks.
“Are you complaining?” Dr. Stern asked. She had a slight English accent, but at times sounded thoroughly American. “That's another fifty demerits. Shall we go higher?”
Caitlyn stomped her feet in frustration, but shook her head vehemently.
“She kicked my ankle and all she gets are demerits?” Tim whined. “Shouldn't you feed her through her nose or something?”
“Timothy,” Dr. Stern said patiently “I'm sorry you were injured in the line of duty, but we don't act punitively here. The purpose of this program is not to punish but to rehabilitate these young women so they can be returned to society. I can't schedule therapy just to satisfy your need for revenge.”
Caitlyn blinked in astonishment, looking up at Dr. Stern. The bespectacled woman almost sounded as if she were standing up for Caitlyn.
“However,” Dr. Stern continued “I do believe this violent outburst illustrates clearly the need for more aggressive therapies. An ice water enema every night before bed should suffice.”
Caitlyn sucked air in through her nostrils and whimpered softly. The last time Dr. Stern had administered an enema to her—personally—there was a butt plug inserted immediately after the hose had been removed. She'd been left strapped to her bed all night, unable to relieve herself as the enema's contents roiled in her abdomen. There was no way she could deal with that for an entire week! This place was driving her insane!
“Now, please install Miss Wells in chair number four,” she said “next to her good friend Sumi.”
Normally, the prospect of seeing her best friend would have cheered Caitlyn, but the asylum was not a place of cheer. Instead, Caitlyn would have to watch while her good friend suffered, both of them kept gagged to ensure they had no benefit of camaraderie. When the door opened wide to reveal her friend sitting in chair number three, Caitlyn's heart skipped a beat. She was still not used to seeing her best friend of twelve years in such miserable situations.
Today Someone had put Sumi's long, glossy black hair into twin pigtails. The girlish look didn't match the misery in her light brown eyes as she took in the sight of Caitlyn's severely restrained but still humiliatingly exposed body. Strapped into a straight jacket similar to the one twisting Caitlyn's limbs, her legs had been folded and then strapped thigh to ankle with medical restraints. At least most of the devices Dr. Stern used were padded to prevent bruising and chafing.
That didn't make them any less snug. Sumi's toes wriggled as she fought the numbness creeping through her legs. The group therapy sessions were torturous, long affairs during which the girls wouldn't be released for a second.
Four other women sat strapped into chairs just like Sumi. Their jackets were also open for 'ventilation,' their mouths securely plugged. The therapy room was painted sea green, and a large aquarium dominated the far wall, filled with exotic and beautiful fish.
As Tim pushed her toward the chair nearest Sumi, Caitlyn's feet reflexively pushed against the cold concrete floor. Her eyes were wide as dinner plates as she stared at the center of her proposed seat. A curved, admittedly comfortable plastic seat with a hole cut neatly in the center. Through that hole was a black butt plug, glistening with lube.
“C'mon, girlie,” Tim said, bodily lifting her in the air. “Let's get you installed.”
Caitlyn could do little but squeal as he carefully settled her on top of the plug. She groaned as it slid deep inside her by inches, slowly filling her up. Tim put a heavy strap across Caitlyn's abdomen, just beneath her exposed breasts and pulled it so tight she could barely breathe.
Next he folded up her legs just like Sumi's and strapped them securely. Due to the position of the chair, her twat and plugged asshole were on display to everyone in the room.
That included the other patients. Caitlyn was learning their names bit by bit, though she never spoke to them. It didn't seem right that a group of women should see each other naked, stretched, and exposed and have never even been to brunch.
Brunch. Caitlyn wept as she recalled the outside world, the former life she had before being installed in this hellhole. What in the hell had she and Sumi been thinking? They barely knew Ricardo, the man who had asked them to watch his camera bag at the outdoor cafe while he used the rest room.
How where they supposed to know he had filled it with heroin?
“All right,” Dr. Stern said “Timothy, please assist me in preparing the girls for their therapy.”
“With pleasure, Dr. Stern,” Tim said, leering down at Caitlyn. He turned about and picked up a hard glass phallus that seemed too large for a medical device. Clear enough to show the leads running throughout, Caitlyn shivered in terror of the electric shocks it could deliver.
And group therapy was among the methods Caitlyn feared the least.
“Don't forget to use plenty of lubrication, Timothy,” Dr. Stern said, squirting a load of clear slime onto a similar phallus.
“Yes, Dr. Stern,” Timothy said, picking up a white tube and ripping off the end. Before he applied the clear gel to the phallus, he snickered and stuck the electric dong down his scrubs, rubbing it against his cock and balls.
“Plenty of lube, yessiree,” he muttered, coating the phallus with gel. He knelt down and grabbed Caitlyn's outer labia with his fingers, spreading her pussy wide. As usual, her traitorous nervous system thought lovemaking was imminent, and her twat oozed as he shoved the tip of the dildo past through her inner lips.
Caitlyn moaned as he worked it gently inside, allowing her to open up naturally and moving it by degrees. She hated herself for the way her body responded, heart hammering, breaths coming fast and shallow. Tim took notice of her reactions, and twisted the phallus a bit, shifting it inside of her.
“Like that, don't you?” he whispered. Caitlyn wished he'd slide it in and out, just a few times. Then she could cum, and have a tiny bit of bliss in this hellish nightmare.
“Timothy, this is not a date,” Dr. Stern said “finish your task so we may begin therapy and then get these girls to lunch.”
Gagged whimpers sounded around the group therapy circle. Lunch was an innocuous term for the forced feeding they would soon endure.
Tim left Caitlyn on the edge of orgasm and moved on to her friend, Sumi. Dr. Stern was far more efficient and had installed electric dildos in seven of the patients before Timothy had even finished with Sumi.
Once the girls had all been thoroughly violated by an electric dildo, Dr. Stern stepped to the center of the circle. She glanced at the tablet in her hands and tapped the screen a few times.
“Good morning to you all,” Dr. Stern said, smiling as she took in the room with her gaze. “I apologize for the late start this morning. We might be a tad bit late for lunch, but I'm certain you'll all agree group therapy is far too important to dismiss.”
Clearing her throat, she looked about quizzically.
“Who would like to go first?”
Caitlyn bit down on the rubber plug invading her mouth and grimaced in frustration. As if any of them could speak!
“No volunteers?” Dr. Stern said. Her eyes scanned the room and then met Caitlyn's own.
Great, she thought why does this ice queen always start with me?
“Miss Wells?” Dr. Stern said, high heels clacking on the hard tiled floor. “Shall we start with you?”
Dr. Stern stepped behind Caitlyn and tugged at her gag strap. Caitlyn gurgled in pain as the gag temporarily grew tighter as Stern unbuckled it. As soon as it came out of her mouth, she worked her jaw and gasped.
“Water,” she said “please.”
“Very well,” Dr. Stern said, which surprised her. Seldom did Dr. Stern show any concern for requests related to personal comfort. She took a pitcher off a nearby rolling cart and filled a clear plastic cup with its icy contents.
Caitlyn licked her lips as Dr. Stern approached with the cup. It looked so tantalizing. She hadn't a drink since last night before lights out.
“Hey!” Caitlyn said as Dr. Stern started to drink the cup. “What are you doing?”
“Do you want a drink or not, Miss Wells?” Dr. Stern said, eyes narrowing to slits.
“Yes, please,” Caitlyn said. “I'm sorry, just why where you going to drink my water?”
“Why, to pass it on to you mouth to mouth,” Dr. Stern said.
“Mouth to mouth?” Caitlyn asked, exasperated. “C'mon! Can't you just hold the cup to my mouth?”
“That would be insufficient, given your current position,” Dr. Stern said, shaking her head. “Much of it might spill.”
“Then unstrap me for a second, and let me-”
“Ten demerits for requesting to be freed from restraint,” Dr. Stern said, tapping on her tablet.
“What? Come on!”
“And twenty more for speaking back to your therapist,” Dr. Stern said, again adjusting Caitlyn's score on the tablet. “You know nigh constant restraint is required for your treatment.”
Sumi made as much of a ruckus as she could under such severe constraints. She rattled the chair she sat on, and groaned loud enough behind her gag to be heard across the room. Caitlyn caught her best friend's gaze, and though Sumi couldn't talk here beautiful eyes spoke volumes. Be quiet! Stop talking or you'll make it worse!
Dr. Stern waited a moment to see if she had made her point, then continued.
“As per protocol for Group,” she said “please recount the details of your incarceration in this facility.”
“Again?” Caitlyn said. “I mean, alright, but can I have my water now?”
“Certainly,” Dr. Stern said. She put her tablet down on her stool, took the cup in hand and approached Caitlyn closely. The Dr.'s eyes were anything but professional on her approach, as she ran them longingly across Caitlyn's exposed breasts. Her lips slightly parted as she locked gazes with Caitlyn. Without breaking the stare, she took half the cup into her mouth in one go and then moved her head in close, lips pursed to hold back the fluid. Caitlyn felt her mouth press against the Dr.'s, then the wash of cool fluid came. She struggled to swallow it, though some still spilled down her chin and onto her left breast. Dr. Stern's tongue flicked inside her mouth for just a split second before she moved away.
“Are you still thirsty?” Dr. Stern asked. She ran a finger over her lips as if savoring the feel of the virtual kiss with Caitlyn.
“Y-yes,” Caitlyn said.
“Alright,” Dr. Stern said, taking the rest of the water into her mouth. This time the kiss was more forceful, and Dr. Stern nipped her lower lip on the pull away. Caitlyn had managed to swallow most of the water this time, at least.
“Oh, you're wet,” Dr. Stern said, applying a cloth to Caitlyn's face. She then thoroughly dried Caitlyn's left breast. Quite thoroughly.
“We don't want you getting dry skin from excessive moisture,” Dr. Stern said, cupping Caitlyn's breast in her hand and lifting it gently. She rubbed the cloth around Caitlyn's nipple, slow strokes while gazing into her eyes with open avarice. Once her task was complete, Dr. Stern pursed her lips and turned Caitlyn's breast this way and that, looking for more water. Satisfied her job was complete, Dr. Stern stepped away as Caitlyn struggled to make no sound.
“Go ahead, Miss Wells,” Dr. Stern said, sitting on her stool. “Tell us what mistakes you have made that make this rehabilitation necessary.”
Caitlyn sighed, moving around in her bonds to find as much comfort as she could.
“Me and my friend Sumi were arrested for Heroin tracking,” Caitlyn said.
“No,” Dr. Stern said. “Take accountability. First tell us who you are, as per the protocol. This is hardly the first time we've had group therapy, Miss Wells.”
Caitlyn licked her lips, wishing she had the courage to ask for more water.
“All right,” she said, biting down on an angry tone. Dr. Wells didn't take well to brusque manners, as she put it. “My name is Caitlyn Wells. I'm eighteen years old, and attending Utah state for a nursing degree. I have forfeited my rights as an adult and therefore cannot be trusted to make decisions for myself because I was a drug trafficker.”
Dr. Stern shook her head, tsking softly, acting shocked even though it was hardly the first time Caitlyn had spoken those exact words.
“A drug trafficker,” Dr. Stern said. “My goodness, Caitlyn. How did you ever get mixed up in that?”
“We didn't even know the bag had heroin in it,” Caitlyn said.
“Ah! Miss Wells!” Dr. Stern said. “That sounded like unproductive language. You know what happens next.”
“No, please,” Caitlyn said. Dr. Stern tapped on her tablet, bringing up a screen displaying all the girl's names. She swept across with her finger, selecting the whole group.
“I'm sorry, please!” Caitlyn said. “At least just do it to me, not the other girls too!”
“That's not the way group therapy works,” Dr. Stern said. “It's not much of an outburst, so I think a low voltage is in order.”
Caitlyn's reply was cut off as her twat seized up, energy coursing through her most tender flesh. Around the room, the girls all cried out in misery behind their muffling gags, squirming in their jackets though they had no hope of escape.
“There,” Dr. Stern said. “Please continue, Caitlyn. Say the mantra and set yourself free.”
Caitlyn's voice sounded on the verge of tears when she spoke.
“I am a criminal who needs discipline and therapy to reform. I will always remember my therapist knows best and submit to their will.”
“Good,” Dr. Stern said. “Excellent, in fact. That deserves a reward.”