Imprisoned

“Heard of a one-bar prison before?”

Clara shook her head slowly. “No… is that, uh, some sort of metaphor?”

Rachel giggled and wriggled right up next to her on the bed, smelling of vanilla and sensual anticipation. “Silly. It’s a real thing.” She curled her hand around Clara’s face, cupping it gently. “Guess?”

“Sure.” Clara scrunched her brows, trying to imagine what a one bar prison could possibly entail. She bit her lip. “Uh… so, a prison… holds someone and prevents them from getting out. From running away. So…”

“Mmm?”

“Maybe the bar is a circle,” Clara tried. “It’s like, continuous. So there’s only one bar… but if you loop it around someone’s waist or ankle, and then chain the bar to something like a concrete wall…”

“Mmm.” Rachel breathed into her ear. “That sounds… intriguing. But nope… try again?”

Clara squinted at the ceiling. “Um. A tube?” It sounded far-fetched even to Clara’s ears, but nevertheless she gave it a shot. “A hollow one, so it’s like one huge prison bar, but you put the person inside and lock them in-”

Rachel propped herself up on an elbow and kissed Clara on the lips, silencing her for a full two seconds. When they broke apart, Rachel had a grin that looked vaguely devious.

“Creative, but no. Third time’s the charm?”

Clara sighed. “I… I don’t know, Rachel. I’m fresh out of ideas.”

Rachel clicked her tongue. “Not even a wild guess?” She walked two fingers up Clara’s naked stomach, starting from just above her crotch and travelling sensuously to just underneath her cleavage. “Pity.”

“What is it then?” Clara caught Rachel’s hand as they approached the top of her sternum and kissed the fingers softly. She let out a breath, then breathed in Rachel’s scent. “How can it be a literal prison with just one bar?”

Rachel opened her mouth, but a sudden glint came into her eyes. “M-m-maybe,” she said slowly, “I should show… rather than tell…”

She suddenly got up from the bed, swiveling around on the sheets and landing on the floor in her usual cat’s prowl. “Come with me, Clara. I’ll introduce you to a one-bar prison. Well, a modified version of it, at least…”

Clara dubiously dragged herself off the bed, disentangling herself from the sheets with some difficulty before clumsily stumbling out of the room after Rachel. Her feet smacked lightly on the too-cold hardwood floor. “Where…?”

She stopped in the hallway, eyes travelling to stare uncomprehendingly towards the middle of the living room.

Rachel had somehow procured a mannequin.

Clara entered the room slowly. Rachel had tossed herself back on the sofa and was studying Clara’s face. “Well?”

Clara sank down into the sofa, sitting next to Rachel. “I… don’t get it?”

“Still?” Rachel laughed. “Okay. What if I…” She reached out to the mannequin and tapped. It made a curiously hollow sound. “...lift this off…”

And suddenly Rachel got up, took the mannequin by the shoulders, and lifted the entire thing- with some difficulty- off of the pole that had just been supporting- oh…

“Wow,” Clara said. “That’s… not normally there, is it?”

“Nope.” Rachel beamed.

The metal pole terminated in a distinctly phallic rubber end. A white plastic plate jutted out from its base, where the metal pole met the rubber. It looked like a small, shallow, and somewhat asymmetrical bowl.

“There’s a plug there too,” Rachel confided, and she gestured to something hidden just behind the main rubber dildo, for that was obviously what it was. Clara leaned to the side and saw an anal plug, made out of the same color rubber, extending from the same plating.

Clara looked at it with some bemusement. “It’s a… sex toy fixture?”

“A mannequin stand for people who aren’t mannequins,” Rachel beamed at Clara. “A one-bar prison, see?”

“I…” Clara shook her head. “I still don’t get it. I can see that it has the one bar, yeah, but how is it a prison?”

“You stand in place,” Rachel explained, gesturing, “with the dildo and plug in- see? Imprisoned.”

Clara tentatively got up from her seat and approached the metal pole. “Can’t you just… like, pull yourself out…?”

Rachel joined Clara next to the unusual stand. “How would you do that?”

“Stand on your tippy-toes, and…” Clara looked at the floor, and noticed the ridiculously high stilettos on the floor next to the stand. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” Rachel said, and Clara wasn’t sure if she liked the decidedly mischievous tone in her voice. “And that’s not all. I’m adding on to the formula. As much as we’d both like to see you writhing on top of that contraption-”

“Me?” Clara asked with some alarm.

“-the fact of the matter is that mannequins don’t move, or make sounds, or look altogether too realistic.” Rachel patted Clara on the side of the head. “And you, Clara, look way too realistic… for now.”

“That’s not mysteriously creepy and malicious sounding at all,” Clara said.

“Don’t worry,” Rachel said. She gave Clara a devilish smile and reached down to pick up the hollow mannequin. “This here is a wearable shell. You’ll be able to breathe, but the plastic’s strong enough to hold you in place. And there’s all sorts of little secrets here…”

Rachel trailed off as she looked at Clara, who wore a doubtful expression on her face.

“Of course,” Rachel said, quieter and more serious, “If you’re not comfortable with it, we can get back in bed. I didn’t want you to feel pressured to do this- I just thought that, you know, after those last few times we experimented, you’d find this interesting-”

“No, it’s… it’s not that...” Clara studied the pole and mannequin. Well, it was that, but… What harm could come out of it? Rachel knew her safe word. If things got out of hand, she could simply tell Rachel, and that would be that. Plus, the one-bar prison… now that Clara had gotten a second and maybe third look at it, it kind of looked kinky as hell.

And. She owed it to Rachel. After all, Rachel had been nothing but unwaveringly supportive of Clara’s… deviant interests.

“I’ll try it on,” Clara said. “Sure, why not.” She smiled over at Rachel.

“Yay!” Rachel hugged Clara’s side, her hair messily draping over much of Clara’s right elbow. “You won’t regret it, I promise!” Then she straightened and the malicious grin was back, and somehow Rachel had also picked up the heels in the same instant. She held them out to Clara. “Now… fancy getting on that one-bar prison?”

The platform connected to the bar must have been heavy, because the bar didn’t even wobble when Clara stepped up onto the thick plastic surface. The heels made a sharp clack-clack on the surface but thankfully didn’t slip. Clara stepped on with some difficulty.

“I’ll just adjust the bar… hold up for a second,” Rachel murmured, as she kneeled on the floor with a small adjuster tool. Clara looked down at the dildo right in front of her crotch, hovered her hand over the tip, and brought her hand straight across until it met the lower part of her midsection. Damn. The thing looked like it would fully stick 5, maybe 6 inches into her.

Click. The thing dropped a good foot, and Clara carefully stepped up until she stood right above the pole. Rachel took the nearby bottle of lube and squirted some into her hand, rubbing it around her palm before carefully lubricating the dildo and plug directly underneath Clara. When she finished, she looked up and grinned.

“Ready?”

“I think…”

Rachel pulled the telescoped pole up, bringing the… business end towards Clara’s crotch. “Step a little bit forward, just an inch more- yeah, that’s good enough,” Rachel murmured. “Okay. Here goes.”

The dildo, being the taller of the two, entered her first. Rachel pushed it in and out, slowly, easing it in to minimize Clara’s discomfort. Clara gasped at the thick invader entering her body, and wriggled her hips a little to fully accommodate it. “O-oh…”

Then Rachel started to push in earnest, plunging the length of the dildo in, until the rubber was buried up to the plastic hilt. At the very same moment, the plug entered Clara from the back, following the dildo slightly more slowly and making Clara’s ears burn.

Rachel took Clara’s tensed hand and unfurled it, guiding it gently to her crotch. “Smooth, huh?” she said, allowing Clara to feel the smooth plate that had replaced her privates. “Cold and plastic like a doll… or mannequin.”

A hard sound, like the flicking of a switch. Suddenly Clara’s crotch started to vibrate, and exquisite tremors ran up her body and down her spine. Clara took in a sharp breath. “...Rachel?”

“We’ll start slowly,” Rachel reassured her. “I’ll only ramp it up once you’re finally enclosed…”

“I… oh, o-oh-” Clara trembled, all the sensations suddenly assaulting her at once.

“Legs first!” Rachel sprang off to the side and quickly returned with the mannequin. She held up a remote- it had to be the one controlling the vibrators as well- and pressed a button. Immediately, the mannequin appeared to shatter, falling apart at invisible seams. Rachel took one of the legs, which had halved itself, and brought it over to Clara. “Don’t twitch so, Clara,” she whispered coyly, and placed one half of the plastic leg next to Clara’s own, reaching over to bend Clara’s leg to fit the angle. Then the plastic was pressed upon her bare skin, and Clara barely felt the heat from her own body being reflected by the material-

Rachel pressed the other half in, quickly, and it snapped together before seamlessly melting in to form a smooth, pallid white. Before Clara drew her breath for her next whimper, Rachel had fetched the second leg and opened it. A shell encompassed her, fitting snugly over the high heel and rising to cover everything from her ankle up to her thigh. With a soft click, the second leg also closed itself over her. In less than a minute, Rachel had stolen Clara’s option to simply walk away.

“It’s cold,” Clara gasped. “And I can’t move…”

“You’ll warm up soon enough,” Rachel responded absentmindedly from below Clara, as she dug around the scattered pieces of the mannequin, searching for something. “After all, you’re going to be nice and sealed in…” She straightened. In her hand was a something that could only be described as a rigid bikini bottom.

“Wh-”

Rachel’s breath was at her belly. Clara could only watch as her entire lower region was encompassed by the plastic, fitting over and melding with the plate at her crotch and the shells covering her legs until Clara was truly immobilized from the waist down. With the keen awareness that the plugs and vibrator were truly fastened to her crotch, Clara felt her arousal heighten and heartbeat speed up.

Rachel paused here, rubbing her lithe naked body on the smooth, artificial legs that had replaced Clara’s own. Clara could feel it, surprisingly- her tactile senses were dulled through the plastic, but not completely, and she could notice the heat of Rachel’s body radiating through her shell. Clara looked at Rachel and met her anticipatory eyes. Rachel spread her legs and sensuously rubbed her open crotch on Clara’s bent knee, her hands hugging Clara’s midsection. When she backed away moments later, obviously restraining herself until she could finish with the mannequin shell, Clara noticed that her bone-white knee was gleaming with fluids.

“I should finish,” Rachel said.

“Mm…”

Rachel brought the torso pieces next. The back portion fit Clara from waist to neck perfectly, and Clara obligingly held it there as Rachel took the belly- flat, perfectly toned- and fitted it snugly over Clara’s own stomach. Once they sealed, Rachel brought forth a literal breast-plate- one that had hollow breast forms that matched Clara’s size unnervingly well. Before Clara could wonder too much about it, Rachel pushed the piece into place.

Clara could no longer bend over at the waist. Her posture was graceful and curving, a mannequin’s pose, standing tall with one leg bent slightly, bust and butt ever so slightly thrust out. Clara ran her fingers over the hard and blindingly bright surface that had seemingly replaced her own familiar skin.

“Does that feel good, Clara?” Rachel walked around behind her and breathed into her ear, softly, softly. “I think I’ll leave your hands until last, so you can feel the transformation before you’re fully sealed in.” Something clacked against Clara’s hard butt, and she felt a hard surface drag up her back and to her shoulder. “Open wide…”

Open wide?

Suddenly her view of the room was dominated by white plastic, which drowned out the light of the ceiling fan. As her vision darkened, Clara saw the inverted features of an exceedingly neutral mannequin face, with nostril holes being the only pinholes to let light filter in and reveal a-

“What are y- Mrgphhhh!”

A dildo gag. Clara tasted rubber as it filled her mouth and dove in uncomfortably deep to the entrance of her throat. She tried to say something but the gag was everywhere- her tongue rimmed uselessly around the surface of the gag as she gave a muffled grunt. Sharp inhalations through her nose- her eyes were wide open, but the blackness was infinite, like a starless night, and Clara lost the ability to do all except breathe, breathe, suck air in through the uncomfortably restricting nose of the mannequin’s face that now covered her own.

And click.

The back part of the head had followed the face almost immediately, and Clara felt it seal over her entire head and around her neck. She could only move her arms now.

“Feel yourself now,” Clara heard Rachel through the plastic. Her voice was muffled, as if from a dozen rooms away. “You’re one step away from being a perfect mannequin! Touch that solid, unmoving shell around you…”

Clara complied. Everything was rigid. It was wonderfully exotic, feeling the inert plastic where her breasts and neck and face should have been. Clara breathed in through her nose heavily, and moaned- or at least, tried to, her hidden mouth bulging. Her crotch was throbbing, each shake of the vibrators melting into the next, waves of pleasure resonating and soaring across her restrained flesh from her stimulated clit…

“Mmphh… mmphh!”

“Be patient, Clara… one more step…”

“Hmmphh mmm…”

Suddenly her left arm had been caught at the wrist. It was guided by a delicate hand into the waiting embrace of an unyielding hollowed mannequin arm. Fingers spread wide and fitted into their assigned slots, and more plastic swooped in to cover her palm and the underside of her arm. Rigid plastic held that arm casually at Clara’s side, while her right hand was guided up, parallel to the floor, as if gesturing for an embrace. Cold, cool, then warm plastic, and soon…

Click.

Final. Inevitable. Clara was fully sealed into the bland, emotionless mannequin shell, her crotch throbbing from continued stimulation, unable to escape from the pole holding her up and penetrating her. And Rachel must have pressed another switch on her little remote, for the sensations began to soar all over her body, tingling and electric, making her ultra-claustrophobic prison all the more hot and bothered. Clara strained, trying to grind her hips over the dildo and plug, failing… She was held in place, held helpless as the assault of pleasure swept up to her head and down to her toes, and Clara’s tongue writhed under the pressure of the gag as she felt a slender body curl into the mannequin’s embrace and begin to rub frantically at her hard waist and thigh...