Natasha sipped on a cup of ginseng tea. It was sweet and slightly spiced. The woman named Chambers must have bought the same brand that Natasha preferred. It was aromatic, but like all teas, was less strong on taste than smell. But, all the same, it was pungent and always made her think of being home - wherever that was. Usually in the lab. It felt like having a secret ally that had come along for the ride.

   I need all the allies that I can get, she thought. She took a sip from her wingman, gulping down the slightly-too-hot liquid and moving her eyes left and right. When she brought down her mug, she expected to see the clean interior of a well-kept laboratory, or perhaps Phantom’s smiling face. Instead, she saw the office. It was the same as it had been when she had first arrived.

   Grainer National Park was more than just endless vistas. There were pithy quotes like "No place is as bad as they say it's going to be" and "Look around you and take in the world" adorning the brochures. A few interesting features would have made it a perfectly interesting spot for a vacation. Isolation was nice when it involve thick bondage, but it was also nice to be free and far away.

   The whole project had started weeks ago. Moving at the same frustratingly glacial pace that all major corporate projects moved, she had been instructed to make contact with a woman named Angela Wolf. It seemed that Dr. Wolf had been engaged in research that was not too far off from some of the projects that Natasha worked on, both during her time at MirageCorp or of her own volition.

   Meeting with her filled many needs at once. For one, it intrigued Natasha on an intellectual level. Dr. Wolf was reputed to be an evil genius in the classic sense; ruthless, devious, willing to sacrifice to get what she wanted. That was sometimes very good. Villains like that usually had fairly groundbreaking ideas. So long as they didn’t involve world-ending lasers or obscenely complicated plans, they had some degree of merit. Natasha remembered one or two “mad doctors” who had claimed some serum of eternal youth, or had invented some bizarre device to change tectonic plates. Both times, she’d found herself captured and toyed with. Both times, she’d escaped without so much as a broken nail. Once had been on her own through sheer serendipitous luck, and the other had involved her patron, Phantom. Either way, they had both resulted in research well worth the cost of getting grabbed and teased rotten for a few days.

   That led to the second positive. Phantom, overbearing as she was at times, also made fantastic use of technologies and projects that might normally languish under other masters. She was always eager to extrapolate a use from something, no matter how fickle or mono-tasked. The processing of substrate through microfilament tubules could be used to help move coolant around in industrial equipment. The bizarre doomsday weapons of rival evildoers and corporations had some degree of merit; Natasha herself had overseen the “mega-volcano” gun that some nameless baddie had created, turning it into a massive geothermal plant on an isolated island. The fact that the same island also seemed to be host to a small ranch of ponygirls and a testing ground for unsavory, fetishistic delights was secondary.

   It wasn’t an explicit ‘need,’ but Natasha Zhukov also couldn't deny that her knowledge of Dr. Wolf and her staff also intrigued her. She’d seen at least one still image of her staff, subject to some sort of fascinating latex-like organism. She could still see it in her mind’s eye; a pair of women in business attire being enclosed and encased in splendidly thick black rubber. Their faces were agape in a way that reminded her of a ghost or monster. It clung to their figure so tightly; though they groped and grabbed at it, they hadn’t seemed to slow its spread. There wasn’t any motion, but she imagined a lot of pleasured moaning going on in that scene. So yes, it seemed that Dr. Wolf might be something of a deviant-minded doctor as well. That helped.

   Of her own volition, Natasha had packed her bags and prepared for a trek. Tight shorts and a simple athletic shirt allowed her plenty of fresh air while walking among nature. Her sunglasses reacted to the tint of the late afternoon sun. If not for the fact that her tremendously large tits wiggled as she walked, Natasha would have fit in with any tourist.

   The ranger station's office walls had more of the same decorations that she'd seen at the entrance. Signs proclaiming the allure of the great outdoors mixed with paperwork and a very out-of-date calendar. Natasha took another sip of her tea when the ranger returned.

   "I know you said you didn't really have any particular path," said the park ranger. "But rules are rules, and we don't let first-time visitors go anywhere without sharing their hiking plans."

   "I don't even know the trails," Tasha replied. Not entirely true. She could have an eidetic memory when she wanted. "What do you want me to do? Draw some scribbly lines on your map? I'll do that if you like."

   The ranger sighed and ran fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry," he said. "But we don't want anything to happen to you while you're out there."

   Natasha puffed out her chest and protruded her lower lip. She was making subtle and not-so-subtle indications that she was nothing more than a dumb, black-haired bimbo. "Maybe you could guide me, then? A strong gentleman like you could take me to the best spots. Make sure I don't get lost."

   Damn, she thought. Way too strong. I might as well have asked him "Which way to the Mutagenic Pathogen Project?"

   The park ranger shook his head. "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I'm suspecting you won't get it unless I'm blunt. There have been several disappearances in the park the past few months. The news is so wild right now that it always gets buried, but those are real people going missing. Maybe not dead - no bodies - but missing. Missing, ma'am."

   He pointed a finger in her direction.

   "Could you show me where they went missing? I don't want to wander somewhere I'm not supposed to go."

   * * *

   Two hours of walking later, Tasha was exactly where she wasn't supposed to be. The park staff had cleaned up the detritus from the vanished park-goers expedition, but the area still had tell-tale signs of a half-effort ranger investigation. Boot-prints and the occasional strip of CAUTION tape told her that she was exactly where she needed to be. Presumably, security had some sort of setup ready for unwanted guests. All she had to do was find it - or stumble into it. Grass tickled her ankles as she walked. She’d used copious sunscreen; the evening sun felt nice.

   The scientist took off her pack and dropped a metal sphere to the ground. She nudged it with her foot, like a cat playing with an unfamiliar and inanimate toy.

   Tasha's drone sprung to life. Micro-motors propelled it into the air, snapping open with a satisfying "k-chk" noise. It quickly began to patrol the area, targeting the foliage and fauna with low-intensity ranging lasers. The scientist stroked her own hair, pushing an errant lock behind her ear. She plucked a squarish piece of plastic from her pocket and tapped on it a few times, bringing up the drone's control interface.

   Miles away from anyone else, and what was she doing? Looking at a hand-terminal screen and playing with a drone. She might as well have been filming and live-streaming the whole thing for friends back home.

   The drone scanned the clearing without incident. She packed it up and moved to the next site. By the time the second site had no signs of secret entrances, the sun was starting to get low in the horizon. Natasha shielded the warm evening light with her eyes as she stared west through the trees. There was another clearing a hundred meters away through some shrubbery.

Natasha hardly noticed when the ground opened beneath her. She was walking forward, and then she was falling. Her mind reacted with the normal mixture of adrenaline and increased awareness. Her foot hadn’t found solid ground and was going down. She tried to move back in the split-second after she realized she was falling, but she was too far gone. Time moved in slow motion for a bit as she fell forward into a pit that had come from nowhere.

She fell forward into the hole. And yet, there was a silver lining. Natasha’s generous, gigantic breasts had saved her. The oddly-circular sinkhole was just barely too small for the well-endowed scientist to fit.

Her mind raced. Her legs dangled. Her arms, stuck at her sides, twitched. She stared left and right and yelped into the tall grass. To a normal human, it would have been profoundly painful. For Natasha, it was a bit more stimulating than she’d have cared to admit. She didn’t have very long to contemplate the results when something skittered in the grass and close to her face. She felt an undramatic heaviness, a loss of her anxiety ,and a relaxation in her muscles as the world went black.

* * *

Natasha was undeniably a fine specimen for abduction. There were elements about her that made keeping her bound and gagged particularly rewarding.

Among them were the sounds that she made. From the moment that Captain Chambers had her, she knew that Natasha’s voice was almost melodic. As she mewled herself awake in Chambers’s office, the security chief was already enjoying the thought of making her newest caged bird sing.

Chambers had an intensity about her that radiated through her entire body. Tiny oases of calm broke up her intimidating demeanor. Her lips were pursed into a smile; her eyes were relaxed. When she blinked, it was slow and calm.

And yet, neither of those emotes were calming. Her smiling lips were laced with tension. It wasn’t that the smile wasn’t genuine… it’s that it was real. She had the smile of a person who was enjoying her view and was on the verge of saying… something. A snappy combeack? Maybe a taunt? A needling description of Tasha’s circumstances? The scientist-come-captive couldn’t be sure.

She was quite sure that her pose was deliberate, though. Chambers had short hair that was trim, dark and managed to straddle the level between ‘messy’ and ‘low-maintenance.’ Her soft, milky-white skin contrasted with the the harsh scarlet of her coat. Dark hosiery covered her legs, moving down from her waistline to her high-heeled pumps. Her legs were crossed; Natasha stared at the hosiery as her left leg gently rocked with impatience.

Captain of Security Christie Chambers had dark eyes that made Natasha squirm. She had the look of an elder, lost in a dream of a one-night stand many years ago. Natasha knew that look. She knew that it was Chambers coming up with devious, devilish ways to torment her.

Chambers finally spoke when the captive scientist had had enough time to wake, recover, and stew. Not literally sweat - the security office was well-ventilated and cool - but the most powerful interrogation tool was the imagination. She’d let Natasha stew in her thoughts. Hapless visitors to the office in the past had worked themselves into hopeless frenzies, and eventually to surrender. All it took was a few vague threats, and plenty of time.

Natasha’s bindings helped accelerate the process. She was still wearing the stylish athletic outfit she’d worn on the way into park - a tight shirt and hip-hugging jean shorts. Her new accoutrement, though, was a cage made of metal strips and leather straps. The body-cage restricted her form quite heavily. Although there were many spaces where her flesh and clothing could be seen, it still restricted her movements quite severely. At most, she could wiggle, stretch her fingers, and gurgle into her gag. Her eyes darted left and right, staring at Chambers.

Tasha had a piece of leather between her lips to bite on, but a thick panel-gag did most of the work. It was harnessed around her head. Two straps came from the top of the panel-gag into a triangle which then ran up the bridge of her noses. She wrinkled her nose once or twice. It was a little cute. But it was also a tiny bit itchy. Natasha pretended not to notice, and eventually, the itch went away. The rest of the sensations didn’t, though. That meant that the leather straps bit and compressed her flesh, and that the endless bands of metal squished at her body. She couldn’t see herself , but she new the immense pressure was compacting her boobs rather severely. She had no doubt that it looked seriously pornographic. Such was the price of having her body.

Chambers seemed to think so too. She strode forward with all the confidence of a wild cat cornering its prey. (Natasha ruminated that most wild predators didn’t have their prey heavily bound and imprisoned, though.) She presented her tool of the trade; a white wide vibrating wand. She flicked the power of the hitachi on, and began stroking it over Natasha’s exposed flesh. She could feel her knees twitch and tremble. Just because the pressure was off her legs - thanks to the unique bindings , she wasn’t exactly standing  - she didn’t fall down. But she did feel her legs moving out of reflex. Her body felt the tingling, joyous sensation of stimulation and it reacted with all the lust and longing possible. Ticklish spots like her neck got attention, though of course Chambers spent plenty of time letting the busty scientist feel her device all across her sensitive erogenous zones.

When a few minutes had passed, Chambers began to unlock the cage. Natasha wiggled as the locks were removed, straps detached, and clasps unhinged. When all was done, she tumbled forward onto the carpeting of the security captain’s office. She was panting and felt a tiny bead of drool drop from her mouth.

“Miss Zhukov,” said Chambers, “I didn’t expect you on your hands and knees so soon!”

Natasha blushed… or at least, she realized she was blushing. Her body was red in spots from where the pressure and endless stimulation had affected her. She wasn’t sure if her flushed face was a side effect or not. Maybe she was just… always blushing. Something to do with her nanites. Or something about her personality. Or maybe - more likely - she was flustered because she’d been teased raw by a beautiful woman.

Chambers rolled Natasha on her side. She didn’t kick her, so much as nudge her with her foot the way a human might play with a pet cat or rodent.

“Uh-uh. No looking at me. Not yet. You don’t get to see Captain Christie Chambers.”

“Wh-why not?” peeped Natasha.

“Because you don’t have clearance. You’re not supposed to be here. You’re not supposed to know I’m here, and you’re not supposed to be skulking around with a surveillance drone. You don’t get to see the labs or the staff. Including me.”

Natasha winced.

“Well, it’s a little late for that. And you just confirmed that the labs *are* here.”

Chambers shrugged with her voice. “Hmm. Right.”

Natasha tried to turn her head again. She was rewarded with a strong grip on her face. Chambers was a powerful woman, but the way that she moved was more important. She was physically competent and capable. When she took Natasha’s face in her hand, it meant that she had something in mind. She turned the scientist left and right, inspecting her visage. She wiped away a smudge on her forehead with her thumb. “Got a little messy on your trip. Fell into one of our sinkholes and let one of the mutagenic creatures knock you out. Pretty amateur stuff for an industrial spy.”

“I - I’m not a spy. I was hoping to cooperate.”

Chambers was taking something from her drawers. “Cooperate? With whom?”

“With Angela Wolf!” said Natasha. “I was thinking of - you know. Of perhaps offering my services. Or the services of some of my colleagues. Joint ventures. She’s got a neat project, and I’ve got - “

“You’ve got a big mouth,” said Christie. Her dark eyes shimmered. Natasha thought of oases again; how they could turn into a mirage with a moment’s notice. She stared and found no comfort in Christie’s genuine smile.

“I - I’m trying to explain myself.”

Chambers grinned and put Natasha on her chest. She planted one heel on Natasha’s back. “You’re failing. I know all that I need to about you. I know that you’re Natasha Zhukov, that you’re a renowned scientist, and that you’re trespassing something fierce. I also know that you’re my problem.”

Natasha made another mewling sound.

“I’ve told you what I know. I’m an emissary.”

Chambers softened the pressure.

“So, you want to talk to Doctor Wolf, huh?”

“Yes!” shouted Natasha. “I - I wanted to talk. That’s all. And you don’t exactly leave many avenues of communication. I figured that if I didn’t get any talking done, I could snap a few photos. Make it a very subtle vacation. Be in and out in a few hours; if I found you, great. If I didn’t, I’d be gone. No harm, ma’am. No harm, I mean it!”

Chambers leaned down one knee on Natasha’s back.

“I believe you. You don’t have anything else to say, then?”

Natasha shook her head.

“Good.”

“So you take me to Wolf?” said Zhukov with a certain air of hopefulness.

Chambers didn’t respond. After confirming that Tasha had nothing further to offer, she’d grabbed something from a chest in the corner of the room. Natasha felt hands on her face. Chambers was kneeling on her again.

The pressure from the woman forced Natasha’s body against the floor. Her huge breasts squished and squashed against the carpet. She blushed and yelped; the pain mixing with twinges of pleasure from the pressure. The yelping stopped when Chambers began gagging her with all the fury of a kidnapper and the finesse of a finely-trained domina. A thick layer of hosiery entered her mouth. Natasha yelped, balling it up as she tried to expectorate the gag. Chambers did it a second time. Then a third. Then one more for good measure.

“It’s a good thing you have a big mouth,” said Chambers. Natasha’s mouth was full and packed. She could breathe, even if it was marginally more difficult. Her cheeks bulged with the fat gag, and she felt some of the nylon pantyhose pouring from her lips. Chambers made sure she didn’t spit out her lovely gag with a layer of silver tape. One first, a tiny piece of stretchy silver tape around her dark lips. Then another.

“Mmmhp! Nnnnnn!” Natasha made mewling sounds, but they only seemed to encourage Chambers. She wound the tape around another time. Then another. Then a third time. Zhukov found her mouth totally enclosed, with the tape going all the way around her hair and mouth to totally seal off her lips. Chambers tapped Natasha’s encased lips.

“There we go. No need for you to plead your case when the judge has already ruled. Besides, I like your gagged serenade.”

“Mmmmmh! Hmmmmphhhh!” Natasha was breathing heavily.

Chambers stretched a nylon legging over Natasha’s head. It stretched and gave, but darkened her vision marginally.

“Like that?” said Chambers. Her voice was taunting and needling.

She did it again. A second layer over her face alone made things darker, warmer, and tighter. It felt almost claustrophobic. Luckily, Natasha was something of a claustrophiliac.

She wrapped a wide pair of hose around Zhukov’s face, focusing on the lower half of her head. It was like she was being gagged further - even if it didn’t actually make her any more quiet, it reminded her that she was being thoroughly encased. Chambers’s personality and threatening, powerful hands didn’t make it any easier. She really had a feeling of growing helplessness. The three - or four -  or five layers of nylon covering her face had something to do with that, of course.

Chambers let her enjoy that for a moment. She wound the pantyhose around her captive’s neck. It wasn’t tied terribly tight, but it was enough that the stretchy nylon wouldn’t come off on its own. She pressed Natasha deeper to the floor. The scientist kinked, but a tremendously loud spank helped quiet her. Then, she kicked, louder again. Another spank. It was loud and she could hear Natasha make a low, lusty sound from it. Good.

Zhukov was easy to tie up. She was physically adept, but Chambers had trained for years for quick and effective restraint. In this case, that meant her hands behind her back and each wrapped in the same silvery, stretchy electrical tape. It was wide and keeping her in mitts was pretty easy. She layered another three strips of tape around Natasha’s body as well. It was fun; Chambers realized she was rotating, twirling her captive the way a spider might do to a fly. It made her grin and giggle a bit. The mutagenic pathogen project could probably do something with that. A few moments of struggling later, Natasha was wrapped in five bands of tape; above her breasts, across her tits, below them, then once at her ankles and once at her knees. All of them looked good. Three or so layers of tape let her body squeak and squirm without fear of damage. Chambers could have used more; she thought about having her mummified entirely. But that was too much work. Besides, it wasn’t the same to grope a mummy as it was to play with a pantyhose-clad slave.

She encased the poor scientist in three more layers of hosiery. Some of it was custom nylon; other parts were high-tensile materials harvested from somewhere in the park. Chambers wasn’t entirely certain about the details. She did know that it made Tasha’s body look so svelte; it brought out the curves even as it darkened her. She played her fingers over the scientist’s body, teasing over her navel especially. Natasha moaned through the countless layers of nylon encasement. It felt nice to see her wriggle and squirm. Almost pleasant; a child-like glee at looking at her own handiwork.

Chambers finished wrapping her package with a few more layers of tape along her nylon mummy. She was still thoroughly visible, though darker. Natasha seemed to have lost herself in all the lovely, stretchy fabric. She was panting rapidly, warmth growing across her face as she exhaled into the hosiery.

Natasha felt her helpless sensations cross into arousal. Chambers sat her up and came from behind. She unleashed one of the most thorough molestations that she’d ever felt. Chambers had powerful hands and a gorgeous body. She was using both at once. Natasha felt Chambers grinding her ample bosom against Tasha’s spandex-encased back. She couldn’t see her, but she felt Christie’s legs - powerful, strong, and shapely - squeezing against Natasha’s hips. She felt the immense power of Chambers taking handfuls of her tits. She squeezed and massaged. Pain and soreness were interspersed with pleasure.

Her other hand crept down, pinching at Natasha’s teats. She groaned and moaned again; mewling like an animal in heat. Which, Tasha recognized, she was. After a few more minutes of groping, she was put back on her chest and stomach, though this time laying over Chambers’s waist. She raised her hand.

A minute later, Tasha’s rear stung, her head spun, and she had come to orgasmic release at least twice. Chambers continued her assault, grinding her body against Natashas and using her hands to explore every inch she had available.

As the groping began to wind down, Natasha recognized that she hadn’t even asked any questions. This wasn’t torture. It was a game. Christie had won. She stared up at the dark-haired security chief. Her eyes had watered up around the third or fourth time she’d come. Heaving again, she tried to calculate every possible thing she could to to escape. The tensile strength of the nylon; the personality matrix that Chambers might fit into; none of it helped.

“Did you like being my little nylon slave, Miss Zhukov?”

“Mmmph.”

“Oh, sorry. Couldn’t hear you.”

Chambers unleashed one final grab at Tasha’s tits. She really did feel like a piece of meat. She felt like a doll. She reasoned that for now, at least, she was.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmngh!”

“That’s what I thought. Well, let’s get you on your way.”

“Mmmh?”

“You didn’t think you were going to spend the rest of your life as my nylon slut, did you? No, I’ve got to get you to Angela. But don’t worry. If you don’t impress her, you’ll spend the rest of your life as her doll instead. Sound good?”

Natasha tried to yelp, but it was getting harder. She didn’t make much noise once she was sealed up in the squarish prisoner transport crate. Geared up with appropriate sustenance and foam lining squishing her further, Natasha’s fetal form was locked and packed up to be picked up in the morning by the transport crew.

Chambers sighed. That was so good, she thought. I need a drink. It’s not every day that I have that much fun.

Chambers stepped outside, not hearing the ruffling in the bushes. She didn’t come back in.