This story contains bondage, damsel-in-distress, and other sexual themes. I recommend you turn away if that does not interest you.

*****

Samus really hadn’t thought anything of this particular tournament when she’d entered it. All she'd expected was to face off against otherworldly opponents like in any of her other matches. She would admit that the strange stipulation specifying that only female competitors were allowed to enter had caught her eye. Regardless, she was itching to test her skills and had joined the competition without a thought beyond that.

If she’d read the fine print, or even just taken their slogan of “You won’t want to lose this tournament!” a little more seriously, then perhaps she would not be in this predicament. It turned out that there was a little… oh, what word did that bastard use to describe it? An incentive in play, that the organizers of this event claimed would raise the stakes while also giving the losers something to do in their downtime. The bounty hunter had argued in the ensuing chaos that she certainly would’ve tried a little harder if she was aware of the specifics of this policy-

That was the exact moment he shoved a glistening yellow ball gag into her teeth while explaining that it was not his fault that she could not read the regulations. He roughly pulled the straps of the gag around her cheeks immediately after, preventing any further retorts from Samus preemptively.

Whatever rules she unwillingly agreed to, she was not going to accept whatever this was! Her “handler” had already wrestled her arms halfway through the sleeves of the straitjacket and was clawing at the ends of the rubber garment’s sleeves to try and pull them in all the way. Samus shook her entire body in response, trying to pull herself out of his clutches. She should be much stronger than this one person, but the rules of Smash had made certain equalizing adjustments to all of their power levels in combat. Which--for some reason--just so happened to carry over to the locker rooms.

Aargh! Stupid… balance changes! Her complaints only came out as a distorted, garbled mess through her gag, and her captor ignored it, continuing his strategy of brute force restraining instead. If her legs were free, then it’d be so much easier to deal with this asshole, but her ankles were inescapably pinned together thanks to the use of her own plasma whip. She’d dropped it by the entrance after arriving here, an obvious mistake in hindsight given that her attacker came through there. Samus had almost tumbled to the ground the instant that it coiled around her legs, and only maintained her upright balance with the support of the wall behind her as she tried to fight off her impending bondage.

Though slow, he was inevitably succeeding in fitting Samus into the restrictive garment. Its shiny blue latex squeaked against her Zero Suit with each successful wrestled pull between the two as Samus tried to prevent such a fate. The bounty hunter realized the jacket’s tightness would be both a blessing and a curse: while it helped her now by making it harder for him to force the damn thing on her, it would be brutally strict and uncomfortable to wear if he succeeded! Her suit was already like a second skin, and she certainly didn’t need or want a third on top of it. The tournament organizers seemed to disagree, and the fact that Samus still failed to get any ground in this battle made its application all the more inescapable. By the time her fingers touched the ends of the sewn-shut sleeves, exhaustion had certainly set in on the both of them after their struggle

And yet it seemed like Samus still had plenty of energy to throw around. Though her arms were trapped within the extra rubbery layer of the straitjacket, they crucially still weren’t fully restrained. She pulled her right arm free from their grip with a sharp and unexpected tug, to do…

What exactly? Samus quickly realized. She could swing around the straps hanging on the ends of each sleeve, and get in a few good hits with her arms behind them. From there, she wouldn’t exactly be able to pull this damn thing off easily, given that it was clinging to her suit with a significant tightness, and it would be a little difficult to pull it off of herself without… well, fingers that could freely move. They were entirely trapped in this tight… constricting...

She’d spaced out at that moment, giving her captor an easy chance to snatch her arm back into his grip. Once again she struggled in retaliation, though not quite as intently as before. She was simply making a… calculated decision, she justified. Her situation was already dire, and she knew as a bounty hunter that it was important to know exactly when to cut your losses. Escape in this situation was highly improbable, so the worst thing she could do was make it any more difficult for herself.

Of course, Samus still made her displeasure entirely unknown. She snarled through her gag as he turned her slim form around before tightening the straps along the back of the straitjacket, using her own body to support each harsh tug. Samus' bottom jiggled softly as she was shoved into the wall, a sight that finally made her captor’s efforts worth it. He held nothing back on securing this damn thing with how he jerked each strap shut. The constriction, especially around her chest, would certainly take a while to get used to.

Not that she wanted to be spending an extended amount of time in this thing. Regardless, Samus figured--or hoped, more accurately, that the rules had to have stipulated that her punishment wouldn't last for that long, otherwise no one who actually read the terms of the tournament would ever agree to such stakes. Then again, this whole stupid event seemed to bet on the fact that no one read the fine print...

She really should’ve read the damn rules. Her arms were guided into a self-hug, something that the bounty hunter accepted reluctantly, only pulling back slightly as they carefully pulled them through the loop in front. It tightened around them with a swift pull, pinning her arms to one another in the front, and they began to work the straps at the end of each sleeve into the back of the straitjacket. The position itself wasn’t uncomfortable, as tight as the restraint that forced it may be, but Samus prided herself on the fact that she’d be flexible enough to handle anything worse than this. She let the thought sit in her head for a moment before asking herself if that was something actually worth finding satisfaction in.

“Glad you’re finally being cooperative. Good girl.” He remarked, and Samus turned the other cheek in response, slightly reddened with humiliation at the comment. Her “strategic surrender” being interpreted as some kind of submissiveness was a side-effect that the bounty hunter had not considered before lowering herself to this position. As if on cue to give her more reasons to regret her decision, his hand came down onto her round bottom forcefully, giving it a few good--rough squeezes, she corrected to herself.

“Mmmmff…” She simply responded, the man understanding her intent when coupled with the glare her eyes pointed at him. The man laughed, ignoring the received message as he gave her a hearty slap instead, rippling a satisfying bounce along her ass as it received the impact.

“Well, you’re not exactly in a position to resist now. Physically, that is. Legally, you weren’t the moment you entered our tournament. Trust me, this is the easy way for you. Our lawyers would do worse things than any punishment you might receive tonight.”

The end of that message was strangely comforting to hear. At least it confirmed that in the worst-case scenario, she should be done with this by tomorrow. She still watched her captors carefully, eyeing the man’s hand as it neared her groin, but she breathed a sigh of relief when it simply grabbed the strap hanging in that area instead. It was immediately followed by a sharp breath as he pulled the strap along her crotch, digging deep into more than just her Zero Suit. Just like the others, he ensured there was no slack, pressing it tighter and tighter against her most sensitive spot as sparks of pleasure shot up her body.

“...mmm…” It was a soft and sensual sound, and it completely horrified Samus that it had come out of her lips a second after she realized that was her. She silently prayed to a certain goddess that she was the only one to hear it, but clearly, that goddess was busy herself. The man stopped his incessant tightening of the crotch strap and turned the bounty hunter around, instantly amused by how her red face sought to avoid him by staring down at the floor beneath them.

“The things you learn about fighters in this job… Samus Aran, secret submissive.” Her struggles became intense--even compared to the effort she’d put in when she was actually trying to escape, throwing her entire body against the straitjacket as she shouted furiously through her gag in response to the accusation. It only culminated in the realization that this thing was nigh inescapable, and all she was accomplishing was tugging on the straps herself… especially the intrusive one which caused that unnatural sound to escape her gagged mouth.

“Heh, don’t worry about it,” the man continued, smiling as his hand returned to her backside, “your secret’s safe with me. So long as you don’t give me any reason to accidentally let it slip.”

Great, now she was being blackmailed for something that wasn’t even true. She assumed that the command to return to complete cooperation was implicit within the threat, and simply let out a sharp grunt in response to his continued fondling of her curves. Her patience was tested when he worked a few fingers underneath the strap running between her legs, just for him to use the leverage to give the band a few more focused pulls. Her teeth bit down firmly on her gag in response, focusing intently on the heavy breaths that came in and out of her nose. She took caution in making sure each one sounded… normal, just to ensure that she didn’t send the wrong message again.

“Mmrr…” Samus made sure that this one came across clearly as an annoyed grunt, and certainly nothing more. To her surprise, the man’s hand retreated entirely, and the stimulation in her crotch reverted to constant, firm pressure, not nearly as sensual as the continued tugs had been. Her eyes lingered on the man’s hand for a moment, watching as it returned to other restraints before them that would be needed to finish up the bounty hunter’s bondage.

She began tugging her arms again, to do nothing more than check if her bonds had gotten any looser. All of the straps along her straitjacket began to shift and jostle against the rubber garment, but still stayed firmly in place. Still tied and… quite tight, the bounty hunter thought to herself.

Though Samus’s own plasma whip was quite effective at binding her legs, it wasn’t exactly the best restraint for transportation. It could be disengaged at the press of a button, which wasn’t particularly secure, and the fact that it kept her ankles within an inch of each other would be perfect for any situation other than having Samus walk herself. Thankfully, a pair of chain fetters would be much more effective for what was to come. He clipped the first cuff on just above where her whip bound her ankles, softly humming with energy in contrast to the loud, metallic clicking as the chain links jingled against themselves.

She’ll have about three or so inches of slack to work with… it’s a good thing she can move in those heels, the man thought, eyeing the considerable height of the shoes which were still secured to her feet. He clicked the other cuff on, leaving a little bit of slack between it and her leg while he worked the whip off of its owner. Once the improvised restraint was pulled free from her ankles, he slid the cuffs down to where it’d been before tightening the restraint until they held a firm grasp around each of her legs.

His eyes lingered on the plasma whip as he held the bounty hunter’s weapon in his hands. Its trial run on the bounty hunter herself proved it could be an effective restraint. Something like this could certainly be useful in the future, with what it appeared capable of doing. And that was before even considering the intended purpose that such a whip had.

Crack! A quick swing of his hand sent the whip of pure energy against the captive’s chest, eliciting an “MMMPHHF!” from Samus’s gagged lips as she bore the attack. No electricity from the plasma whip seeped into her body: her Zero Suit was ample defense from such an attack, and the rubber straitjacket was decent enough cushioning as well. But the impact of the crop was still enough to send a noticeable sting through her body, to which she glared the man down in response.

“That was simply a test… and a little bit of repayment for your struggles earlier. But I suppose you did settle down into your submissive self after a while, so that’s enough whipping for the day.” Samus ignored the man’s obvious taunt, not willing to risk him reneging on the promise of no more punishments if she tried to contradict his comments through more feverous struggles. Such emotions were more difficult to hide on her face, however, with her angered expression still lingering as the humiliation of this situation had never stopped building for the bounty hunter. Tied up and helpless like one of those damn princesses in distress, punished with her own tools… she could only hope that no one else would see her like this. Even the smallest things, like the stream of saliva that slowly trickled down from the corner of her gagged mouth that she could do nothing to stop, were just an ever-present reminder of her powerlessness.

Her heartbeat began to accelerate as the man continued wielding the whip, and she wondered for a moment if he would go back on his word anyways. To her surprise, the man had thought of one more purpose for the item, and coiled it carefully around her neck along where her Zero Suit still covered her skin. It tightened--not suffocatingly so but still presented an uncomfortable pressure before he pressed another button on the device to lock the whip at this particular length. He turned around, before giving the handle a firm tug that caused Samus to stumble forward a few steps which she barely kept herself up for.

“Works well as a collar and a leash, right?” He asked, in a manner that Samus assumed was rhetorical. She let out a sharp grunt before beginning to walk forward of her own volition, not willing to wait for another pull to force her forward. The man continued to lead the way, walking at a pace that Samus was sure he intentionally made just a little too fast for her to comfortable keep up with in these shackles and heels, ensuring that the coil around her neck would tighten ever so slightly before she hobbled herself forward with a hastened stumble in response.

The man didn’t even bother turning to speak, knowing that the bounty hunter had nowhere else to direct her attention as they walked through the halls. “Well, I’m glad I got you taken care of relatively fast. If you were just a little more cooperative, then maybe we could’ve made it back to the arena before the finals started. A shame… though I wonder how the other losers are fairing?”

Others? Samus thought to herself. She’d gotten so wrapped up in the situation, that it had slipped her mind that logically, she wouldn’t be the only “loser” in a multi-person bracket that had a sole victor. A smile began to build beneath her gag. With a tinge of guilt behind such a thought, she comforted herself knowing that she wouldn’t be the only fighter subject to such humiliation, in this… torment.

The bound hunter gave her arms a few good tugs upwards before stumbling forward once again.

-----

“Look, the two of you tied for third place, right? Don’t you agree that this is a fitting celebration of your accomplishments?”

The cacophony of grunts and moans did not provide a clear answer as to whether or not they agreed with such “logic” from their captor. Byleth’s efforts to squirm her body away from the goddess she shared this predicament with were entirely unsuccessful due to the plethora of ropes that constrained and pinned their two, curvaceous bodies against one another. With both of them trapped on their sides against the cold floor, there was no way either of them could begin moving without somehow first undoing the tangled mess that their legs were bound together in. The professor’s eyes stared up at the man who’d deemed this fit for them, a sight preferable to the uncomfortably close one of her companion's.

Palutena was not particularly fond of being gagged. She always had something to say about the other fighters and being stripped of the ability to say what she thought about this, in particular, was unpleasant. And Palutena could definitely tell that the other woman did not appreciate sharing a gag.

Right when she'd first gotten ambushed, a single, teal ball that looked far too large for the goddess to handle had been shoved into her mouth as far as it could go before the leather straps were woven around her head. Strangely enough, however, it seemed like they hadn't tied all of them around her, given that there was another set hanging from the outer side of the gag, but that hadn’t been her primary concern at that moment. Up until that point, her bondage had been pretty light: just a pair of cuffs around her wrists and ankles, and she’d even been eyeing her staff in the corner of the room, figuring that maybe she’d be able to re-take it and stand a fighting chance-

Then they’d brought in the other one who’d placed third, the blue-haired lady that Palutena recognized as Byleth. She was also bound pretty simply, though the goddess found it surprising that the man leading her opted to use his hand to silence her shouts of opposition to the situation instead of a device like her’s. Palutena certainly hadn’t expected the new arrival to be forced down to the ground next to her--very close in fact, let alone watch as Byleth’s face was forced into her own! Her face had squished down against the goddess’s until Palutena’s gag finally found itself halfway into Byleth’s mouth, and they began forcing it deeper and deeper in with the help of the second pair of leather straps until their lips were practically touching with the minuscule proximity the shared gag forced. Their eyes shifted around awkwardly as they caught stares at each other, unable to communicate anything more than muffled “Mmmphffs!”.

Of course, the two instinctively pulled away, but with the belts of their gag holding true, their arms and legs still bound, and the insistence of the man to push them even closer together, there was little either could do from there. Byleth was surprised when the man began by unlocking the handcuffs that kept her hands trapped behind her back, though the firm grip that held each of her wrists ensured that nothing unwanted would come of it. He wrestled them around Palutena, one along each side of the goddess’s slim waist before tying her wrists once more, this time with a rough coil of rope. Between the shared gag and the hug, it became quite clear to both of them as to where this was going. Their forced intimacy grew even closer as the man mirrored the same binding for Palutena’s hands, but it became particularly uncomfortable around their chests. Both ladies were... blessed in that area, and pressing against one another front-to-front like this was bound to cause some discomfort as they were pushed harder against one another.

For better or for worse, parts of each of their outfits had been removed as well. Both of the medallions that once resided atop their chests had been taken off to ensure that their bodies could simply squish against one another instead of causing a ruckus with what would be constant clanging. The gold accessories along Palutena’s arms were gone as well, while Byleth lost both her jacket and the plates of armor on both her core and arms, leaving her more comfortably in the thin black undershirt beneath it instead. This extra exposure was taken advantage of when the man wrapped rope above and below each of their breasts, pushing them forward just a little more before connecting the opposing ladies’ new bindings together. Adding ropes to their legs was simple enough when they were already in such a helpless state: it was remarkably simple to wrap ropes around their combined four legs and knot it off, only to move a few inches down from their thick thighs and repeat, all the way until he got to their ankles and could remove the out of place cuffs from their shared shibari.

Though they did certainly struggle and moan in response to their predicament, there was a certain level of hesitation in their actions with each movement and sound. Byleth realized quickly that shaking her entire body against her restraints also shook her full form against Palutena. The only thing such actions accomplished was unwittingly teasing both of their sensitive regions, with even their crotches pressed up against each other. An ill-timed moan of frustration moments after Byleth rubbed against the other's crotch sent the wrong message to Palutena, whose face quickly flushed red as her eyes desperately searched for anything to look at other than Byleth. It took a few moments for the professor to realize the goddess’s sudden embarrassment, but the ensuing shouting into her gag followed by more struggles to try and escape this humiliating bondage did not serve to correct Byleth’s accidental implication in the slightest.

Palutena was not the only one to get the wrong idea from Byleth’s actions either. The man watched the professor’s increased fervor, pushing her body up and down to brush against her partner. He looked over to the few spare coils of rope he had left and figured he could entertain her lust. It didn’t take him long to fasten a crotch rope around Palutena’s body, though it did take a bit of trial and error to ensure that the knots along the part that ran directly against her crotch were pressed up in just the right places. He lashed the end of Palutena’s crotch rope to Byleth’s wrists, which still laid comfortably just above the goddess’s firm bottom. Not only was the rope a worthy addition to Palutena’s bondage, but each and every time Byleth chose to try and pull her wrists free… Well, Palutena would enjoy those few seconds in heaven, he reckoned. The man glanced down at his ropes, and when he realized he still had enough leftover, he figured he may as well keep the symmetry and give the professor the same addition of “entertainment”.

The man wasn’t even finished with tying the rope around Byleth’s crotch before Palutena realized just what he’d done to the both of them. Her crotch rope was already digging in deep enough with how tight he’d tied it, and she didn’t need this horny professor pressing that knot in any harder against her clit! When she felt the man begin tying a rope to her hands, it became more than obvious as to exactly why she felt her own crotch rope tighten every time her companion struggled. As much as she loathed it, the goddess realized that reciprocating the sensation would be the only way to communicate any sort of message to Byleth. Preferably to stop the constant burning in her crotch. O-Or slow it down, at the very least! She cautiously pulled her arms upward, feeling the slack tighten on them while it surely did along Byleth’s crotch as well. A flicker of hope began to grow within Palutena’s mind as Byleth’s struggles ceased, reacting to the pleasurable yet hopefully unwanted sensation that festered in response. Maybe they could finally stop tormenting each other despite their intimate position with one another, perhaps even figure a way out of-

Why did Byleth have to start struggling again?! Did she just not care, or did she honestly enjoy this? It hurt Palutena to think about it any further. If Byleth wasn’t going to be cooperative, then she had no reason to either.

Ironically, when the man looked down and saw the two ladies intent on doing nothing more than forcing themselves against each other and milking each other’s crotch ropes for every ounce of pleasure they were worth, he saw nothing less than a harmonious team at work. A pair that held an… unexpected goal, for two reserved people suddenly brought into captivity, tied together only because he thought it’d be slightly fitting for two contestants who tied in terms of placement. But who was he to object to the decisions of some of the best minds in the tournament?

His eyes turned up towards the door as he heard footsteps finally approaching. Were the other arrivals finally starting to trickle in? Given that he was in charge of dealing with… sore losers, it was easy to miss a few matches and not know who exactly won or lost. Of course, when you saw a fighter led on a leash and strictly bound from head to toe, then it was pretty obvious as to what had happened to them.

He did find it a little odd that Samus’s struggles were limited to simple tugs against the straitjacket that bound her arms to herself. As she entered the room, joining the pair who were still rubbing intensely against one another, he’d expected the seemingly prideful bounty hunter to be literally kicking and screaming while her captor tried to keep her in control. She instead kept her head down as she shuffled her legs forward, turning her head away in shame as his eyes eventually rose up from her curves to her beet face.

Huh. Looking back down at his work, the two who uttered various unintelligible phrases and still harshly tugging their arms against one another, he wondered if he was better or worse at his job than the man who’d dealt with Samus. Well, regardless of the result, the job was done. There were certainly still many more contestants who needed to be prepared, but it seemed that the victor was ready to receive her spoils, the man realized, as he watched an unbound fighter enter the room.

The expression that Pyra wore as she walked inch by inch into the room was somewhat expected. Her mouth was left agape--perfectly exposed for a ball gag, if she wasn’t the winner--and her eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to convince herself that this was nothing more than a hallucination. It was oddly satisfying to watch the red slowly creep up her cheeks, matching the same fiery intensity of her hair and outfit when her eyes crossed over the intently struggling duo and the bound-ty hunter.

“T-This… is..!” She stammered out, her voice trailing off as her eyes got caught on every little detail of the bondage before her. The intimacy, the intrusive ropes, the stifling gags…

“Your reward, of course!” One of the men explained, “To the victor go the spoils… the losers being the spoils if I really have to spell it out for you.”

The submission forced upon the other fighters had been enough of a signal, but frankly, nothing short of a direct confirmation would have Pyra believe that this was the end result of an official tournament. One which she’d won. She awkwardly stepped forward, closer towards the restrained ladies, entirely unsure as to what she was supposed to do now. Mock them for losing? U-Use them..?

“...Ah, but there is one matter I’d like to resolve first, Pyra. You are a solo fighter, correct? The reports of a blonde-haired girl with a white outfit suddenly taking your place in battle are entirely unsubstantiated, correct?”

“Y-You mean Mythra?” Playing right into their hands, the core crystal on her chest began to glow an intensifying lime-green, its brilliance filling the entire room a moment later as it blinded everyone within it. A few seconds later, and the light faded, revealing the other half of this fighter. Crossing her arms beneath her chest, she stared down at the man who had asked.

“...Yes?” She asked, after a moment of lingering silence. Her eyes narrowed as the man sighed.

“Hmm… The rules of the tournament very clearly stated that all matches were to be fought in a singles bracket format. Meaning one person… Individual… Solo… need I go on?”

A glare formed on Mythra’s face as the implication became apparent. “What? The two of us are basically the same person! The same fighter! Just different forms and appearances… and names. You can’t possibly think that this is-”

“I apologize, Miss Pyra and Mythra, but until we can conduct further investigation of this matter, your winnings and title are suspended. Additionally…”

The man stepped forward, and Mythra knew his intent instantly, readying herself in a stance she’d used numerous times in the matches earlier today.

“Just as stipulated in the rules, anyone who violates them will have to be punished.”

The man wildly charged her from the front, and it wasn’t particularly hard for Mythra to fend him off by pushing and punching him away. He stumbled back for a moment, taunting the lady with a wagging finger--egging her on to take the initiative.

“Oh, you’re gonna-mmMPHF?!” Her response was cut off by a cloth suddenly appearing over her mouth, pressing down against her face hard. An arm from behind her wrapped around her body, pinning her arms to her chest as best as it could while the other hand desperately tried to keep the rag in place. The intoxicating smell that lingered within the fabric of the white cloth began to sink into her nose.

A surprise attack? Why the hell didn’t my Foresight--mm--what the..! Her eyes flickered, consciousness beginning to fade from her mind almost immediately. T-This was--what... what was it called… c-chloroform! She had to get this cloth off of herself immediately, or else she’d fall to these idiots! Mythra shook her body furiously, the strength with which she was able to do so dwindling as her vision began to spiral. She finally managed to release herself from her assailant’s grip, but her body stumbled to the side immediately after. Damnit… she’d already taken far too much exposure to this stuff-

Her arm came up a second too late to block the first man’s follow-up move, forcing them both down to the ground with a stumble. His hands pressed down against her shoulders while he tried to use his own body weight to keep her just like this for as long as possible. If there was no other interference, then Mythra would surely win out…

But the other man had no intention of wasting time, and the cloth pressed down against her face once more. She tried to hold her breath, but that was an impossible task while also fighting off the man who had her pinned down in the first place. Eventually, she was forced to take in another whiff just to catch her breath, intensifying the drowsiness she fought against. There were just too many things for her to deal with at once.

Her eyes fluttered once more, but this time they remained shut as her movements began to slow. A few final struggles were the last Mythra was able to force out of her body until it would respond no more.

-----

The headache which Pyra awoke with was certainly unpleasant. It was good that her senses were finally returning to her, but she would’ve appreciated anything but pain. Her eyelids still felt so heavy, and her mind drifted to the thought of just submitting to it all together and falling back asleep, but something in the back of her mind demanded that she try and force herself awake. Where… where was she..? It wasn’t just her vision that was foggy, for she struggled to think of any details surrounding whatever circumstances had brought her to such a state. Her mind drifted off into deep, difficult thought for a moment.

Wait… that’s right… the tournament! W-We fought and won, but then-

Her eyes shot open as she finally found a sudden surge of strength, but to her surprise, darkness still enveloped her vision. Pyra weakly turned her head around, searching for any sort of light source that could give her a clue as to where she was right now. No matter where she tried to look, there was nothing but blackness… and a firm pressure around her eyes. It… it had to be a blindfold, she realized a moment later. The aftereffects of that chloroform had still jumbled her mind and senses all into a mess and she was just barely able to start making heads and tails of what was going on. Not only was sight robbed from her, but as she began to try and pull at her still heavy arms and legs, Pyra realized that they wouldn’t budge.

Once again, it took her a few seconds to realize just what exactly that meant. It felt like her arms were resting on something, and based on the position she’d woken up in... she must be sitting on a chair of some sort. Whoever put her like this certainly intended on keeping her here with all these restraints. She tugged once more, this time feeling the tight but smooth surface of leather against her skin. It had to be belts or bands of some sort, binding her arms down at both the wrist and elbows in preparation for the inevitable struggles that’d come as she realized her situation. Pyra guessed that it was the same type of restraint that bound her legs to those of the chair's, a little harder to directly make out the material by feeling alone thanks to the presence of her leggings.

Strength was beginning to return to her body, though. She used it to test every inch of her body, figure out if it was restrained in some capacity or not. Trying to simply sit up from the chair proved to be a futile attempt at escape as another strict presence around her chest kept her back pinned to the chair. The long, leather bands above and below her breasts strained against the Aegis’ efforts, in addition to the ones pinning her thighs down, but both sets held their grip upon her body as she tried to pull free.

This couldn’t be good. There weren’t many reasons to tie someone up, and the most common of them was to prevent the captive from resisting something else you planned on doing to them. Which again, did not have many great reasons behind it. To her surprise, however, the one part of her body which seemed unrestrained was her mouth. She tested it, stretching her jaw around a little, expecting to suddenly find a ball or ring or some other gag in it, but no. The fact that there was such an obvious oversight in her bondage concerned her. Surely they wouldn’t just forget…

“H-Hello..?” Pyra let out, in little more than a whisper. “Is anyone there?”

She startled slightly when after a few seconds of delay, a sound entered her ears. It was soft, muffled, and accompanied by the squeaking of leather as they continued to incoherently respond to Pyra’s voice. Of course, Pyra couldn't tell in the slightest who it was. It was obvious that the respondent was restrained as well, so likely another fighter, but between her blindfold and their gag, there was no way to figure anything else out.

But then, there was another one. It was subtle, but the voice was definitely a bit louder and Pyra could tell that their struggles were different. Like they were pulling against a chair, barely lifting it off the ground for a second before its weight made it impossible to push back any further against it and it clattered back down against the floor. A moment later, and she could make out more struggles, another… then another!

Just how many fighters entered this tournament..? W-Were all of them in whatever place this was? Pyra didn’t quite remember the number of competitors, not that’d it be an easy task to count everyone like this. And regardless, there were far more important details to consider. Like what would happen to them and how to prevent it. Progress for the latter of those two was still going nowhere. There was only so much one could uselessly pull against their strict restraints before the despair of futility began to set in.

And just before it did for Pyra, she heard a door open. Footsteps began to echo, and the only thing that told her was that whatever type of room this was, it was a large one at that. But one other thing was obvious to her: they were approaching her. Perhaps they’d finally remembered to gag her, and were coming back to finish the job?

“Ah, it’s Pyra… and here I’d thought Mythra would’ve taken over to try and brute-force her way out of this predicament. I’m glad I’m not too late to see such a sight, though.”

Mythra… now that she was mentioned, Pyra did find it a little strange that she was the one who woke up, given that it hadn’t been her who’d been chloroformed. And now that Mythra was mentioned, Pyra realized she hadn’t heard or felt anything from her other half either. She could try simply handing control over to her, but there was no telling how that’d turn out. Would it… even do anything in the first place? They’d still be strictly bound, but with a much more rebellious captive instead. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing though, given that they were the captives.

Once more, white light filled the room as the switch began. The man standing before the bound Aegis smiled when he realized that it only took a single mention of the other girl to bring her out. This… would be very fun to watch.

It took more than a moment for Mythra to come to. Fragments of memories--not just from the last time she was conscious, but also of Pyra’s experiences just minutes ago began to flood into her memory. She struggled to piece it all together, but her head shot straight forward when she “remembered” that someone was standing before her.

“Mmphf!” MmHMM MM!” Mythra let out, only for her gag to muffle the majority of it. She struggled against the leather belts just the same as Pyra-

...Gag? That… no, that couldn’t be right. W-When Pyra was in control, only a minute ago, there was not a thing in her mouth, yet Mythra could not just feel, but taste the rubber sphere locked between her lips. Everything else, the chair, the leather straps, the blindfold all felt the same..!

It took few more moments of struggling for Mythra to realize that everything else being the same wasn’t quite accurate. There was a cold presence around her neck, encircling it entirely in a firm, metal grip. D-Did this asshole have the nerve to collar her? Like some kind of pet? She squirmed around a little more, pushing her body up and down in a struggle, only for that particular movement to cause another realization. Not only was there a rope running infuriatingly across her crotch to cause a well-placed knot to dig in every time she squirmed about, but…

That crotch rope served to secure something in place beneath her panties. Something round and very filling inside of her. Her breaths grew heavy as her struggles slowed, feeling a flurry of unwanted sensations dwell up inside her as the thing inside of her body began to shift around in response. There was nothing to hide the deep red color her cheeks flushed at this moment, eliciting a hardy laugh from the captor who’d just been watching in amusement.

“Figured it out, yet? When you switch between forms, your outfit is unique between the two of you, obviously. I just so happened to stumble across the fact that your transformation has a loose definition of clothing.”

It took Mythra a moment to process that. The leather straps for their limbs stayed for either of them, probably because they were lashed around the chair as well as their bodies. But things like a gag, rope tied specifically around one of them, and definitely something inside of them… those would all stay unique? All of these bindings specific to Mythra must’ve been applied when she was first knocked out before the transformation mechanism was somehow forced back to Pyra.

That was infuriating. Such a strong emotion formed from her frustration at the gag in particular--preventing Mythra from acting upon a boiling desire to yell at this idiot who’d stolen their fair victory on a technicality… and not to mention the humiliating nature of this entire affair! There was even a tinge of her that felt offended on Pyra’s behalf that they saw the additional restraints necessary for only one of them. Perhaps most angering of all was the thing that her mind tried to stray as far away from as possible: the presence inside her crotch which responded to any shift--no matter how minuscule--with a tormentous sensation of unwanted pleasure.

She’d had about enough of this as she could handle. Any guilt of throwing Pyra back into the fire was washed away by the fact that she wouldn’t have to deal with a jaw-aching gag or an ever-present object stuffed inside her crotch. Mythra settled back down into her seat, relaxing for a moment as she prepared to transfer control back…

…

...Huh? I-It should’ve gone back by now… P-Pyra should be returning by now...

Pyra? She called out into her own head but heard or felt no response. Just what the hell was going on?

If not for the blindfold, then a quick glance down would’ve revealed an unusual green light emanating not from the crystal planted upon her chest, but from the collar, instead. Unbeknownst to the Aegis, as long as the remotely controlled function was active, it inhibited Mythra’s ability to switch forms at a whim. When it finally sunk in that--for some reason--there’d be no relief at all from this predicament, Mythra began to throw herself against the restraints once more, this time with harsher desperation behind each struggle.

“Sorry, lassie.” The man began, leaning over onto Mythra’s lap as he came in quite close to the helpless fighter. “I figured that you need discipline the most. Pyra seems to recognize when doing something will just make things worse. You… well, you’re not making a particularly great case for yourself, are you?”

Of course, it was only to the man’s benefit that their definition of discipline was enjoyable for the one who dealt with it. He brought one hand to her hair, stroking it softly as if to try and calm down the resisting Mythra. Such a humiliating suggestion only brought his captive’s anger to its peak, the garbled mess of words she spouted out in response enough of an indicator of that.

Mythra began shaking her chest back and forth when the other hand reached down to it, lightly rubbing and groping teasingly. The resulting jiggling failed to have Mythra’s intended effect of pushing the hand off of her body, and instead only made it a more attractive sight for the assaulting man. His other hand ran down from her hair, pairing up to give each breast its deserved attention with a set of squeezes and gropes that slowly began to increase in intensity. A second longer… a little rougher… It was no secret to either of them that he was getting into it quickly.

The same could hardly be said for Mythra. Any pleasure she felt was purely from the pressure against her erogenous areas. She was practically boiling over with humiliation and anger, cheeks flared up and body still relentlessly resisting as her arms and legs shook wildly but uselessly against the leather bindings. If she could just--pull one of these loose, then maybe, but it was just too damn secure!

“Mmrf… Ymf mm mmhf!” The man nodded along to Mythra’s words, as though he could understand them or as though she could see that action. He indulged just a little longer in the woman’s bountiful body, running one hand down to test her stocking-clad thighs. Tights were nice… but he’d appreciate a good pair of exposed legs as well.

Unfortunately, he was getting a little distracted. His use of Mythra’s body slowed as he sighed sadly. “It’s a shame that this is about all the fun we can have for now. Disappointments like this happen when you have to work with an entire tournament worth of fighters. Don’t want to be biased with our training… we want all of our fighters to be equally prepared for their next event!”

So it wasn’t just her that was helpless… was there something else planned? For now, she could only speculate, as the man’s hands finally retreated entirely from her body. Her breaths began to calm down, becoming slower and lighter as she finally heard footsteps once more. Finally, that asshole would be giving her some time to figure out how to-

“Ah, I almost forgot to say goodbye, Mythra. I’m sure you’ve felt it by now, but I snuck in a little present for you.”

She could only assume that he was referring to whatever it was that was forcefully stuffed in her crotch. “Mmhf.” Was the only thing she responded with, a simple sound that she’d regret a moment later.

“Huh. I expected a much stronger reaction than that. Maybe I should make sure you actually do feel it.”

Just what did he mean by tha--

“Mmm!” Oh bloody hell, it began to vibrate! She began to squirm almost instantaneously, pulling against her bonds not in resistance this time, but to handle these suddenly intensified trembles inside of her. It was hardly anything before, but now the item was constantly pressing against her insides, rubbing vigorously and sending a constant stream of pleasure over her body. T-This… Mythra realized quickly that this would become unbearable. She tried pulling her legs away--an obviously ineffective act with them still tied. Squeezing them together only resulted in pushing it in a little more. If moving her body caused that thing to press uncomfortably against her before, then doing any of that while it was vibrating was ten times as effective.

She pushed against the back of the chair, head leaning over it as she moaned and struggled in frustration. The echoing footsteps and laughter did nothing to ease her emotions. Mythra let out a few ragged gasps as she tried to figure out who the man was talking to now. The quiet words barely reached her ears, and it was impossible to sort them out in her head while the vibrator continued buzzing away inside her. She pulled and struggled one last time, praying that something would dislodge or untie itself. Nothing did. It finally dawned on Mythra that she was truly helpless to the whims of her captors.

Their training for the next tournament had only just begun.