Andrea Maurer was quite fond of asylum-play. After all, her very first real bondage experience had been in one of Mariam’s straitjackets, the sensation of being secured so thoroughly igniting a fire in her soul that had never been fully quenched in all the months since. For the first time, she’d not only confessed her love of bondage but found a partner willing to indulge in that interest, and for that alone, she owed Mariam everything. Naturally, it was the sort of scenario the pair returned to often, for while there had been many beautiful moments and nights of pleasure since, that first night spent writhing helplessly on Mariam’s bed to the creak of straining canvas would always be special.

But this… this session was rather involved, even by their standards, and behind the leather muzzle gag, Andrea’s breath hitched in her throat as the blindfold came away and she found herself staring into the warm brown eyes of her lover. “Welcome to the Shibuya Institute for Redheaded Nymphomaniacs,” Mariam Kamal whispered huskily. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Mmmppggh?” Andrea moaned in confusion, blue eyes widening as she took in her surroundings. It was a padded cell, an actual padded cell, like the sort one might see in an old-fashioned asylum, yet those sorts of institutions had been shut down decades ago. By comparison, this looked new and clean. The paint on the cell door was fresh, the mattress where she sat seemed recently purchased, the lights were bright and well-maintained. indeed, for all intents and purposes, someone had purpose-built this cell, and the professional civil servant couldn’t help but wonder at the cost and labour involved. Mistress Noriko was behind it all, of course, but had she done all this herself, or had she hired contractors to do it for her? And if the latter, how much did she have to pay so they’d keep quiet about one of the city’s foremost real estate agents turning part of a property into a replica asylum?

Then all such practical thoughts flew from her mind as she noticed the sexy white latex nurse outfit Mariam was wearing, the garment flattering her hips and cut low to reveal dusky cleavage. The Persian beauty laughed at her lover’s expression and gave a little twirl, dark hair streaming behind her. “Oh yes, you’re definitely in need of treatment. It’s no wonder you had to be bound and gagged for your own safety.” A finger traced the length of Andrea’s bare legs before double-checking that the leather cuffs binding her ankles remained secure. “Time to diagnose you. Struggle all you like, babe, you’ve never getting out of this one.”

“Mmmmppggghhh!” Andrea shouted in mock protest, throwing herself into the role of unwilling asylum patient as she strained against her bondage. She was clad in a combination straitjacket/leotard of blue latex, tailored to fit her measurements so that it clung to her elegant figure like a second skin, the material thin enough that little of her more feminine attributes was left to the imagination. Her arms, trapped within sleeves that ended in built-in bondage mittens so her hands were rendered useless, were drawn tight about her in an inescapable hug, the loop above her stomach through which they’d been threaded holding firm despite the intensity of her struggles. It was also connected to the strap drawn tight between her legs, so that every small motion rubbed pleasingly against her apex, leaving her pale features flushed red above the leather muzzle gag. And through it all, Mariam’s hands ran over the redhead’s bound body, teasing and caressing and stoking her pleasure to even greater heights, so that within minutes, Andrea was melting beneath her lover’s touch, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “Mmmmpppgggghhh…”

“Subject responds eagerly to physical conduct,” Mariam remarked. A hand dipped low, and Andrea threw her head back with an unmistakable cry of pleasure. “Particularly around her more sensitive areas. Not to mention that she’d clearly fallen hopelessly in love with her attending nurse. Seems I have no choice but to diagnose you as a hopeless submissive. It’s a difficult condition to treat, but we’ll do out best. You just might have to remain here for quite some time.”

Andrea’s reply was another gagged moan of pleasure, dusky fingers dancing along the smooth skin of her inner thighs. “Indeed, we might even have to engage in some rather intensive therapy,” Mariam continued, full lips pulling back in a wicked smile. “We only allow patients to check out of this asylum once we’re sure they’re fully cured, for both their safety and that of the public. Who knows? We might never end up letting you go…”

“Mmmmppgggghhh!” Andrea screamed, blue eyes suddenly wide with fright in a magnificent act of dumb play. “MMMMMPPPGGGHHH!”

“No use complaining about it to me, babe, that’s just our long-standing policy,” Mariam insisted in mock innocence, before leaning in close and cupping the redhead’s breasts through the latex. “Trust me, you’re in very good hands.”

Groaning both in pleasure and from the awful pun, Andrea continued her show of defiance, heart pounding a furious tempo at her chest and enjoying every second. From the very first moment she saw Mariam, she’d been mad with love, insane for the Persian beauty who’d so thoroughly captured her heart, so perhaps she truly belonged in the asylum after all…