“The name she provided to us was Kiera. The occupation was ‘extreme athlete.’ The reason for her travel was ‘participating in a sporting event.’”

She was strapped in tight to an interrogation chair. It wasn’t as scary as she thought it would be, in a way. It was just inescapable. The chair itself had individual rests for her legs and arms, and all of them had a dozen points each for tight nylon straps. Each and every strap locked via D-ring, and despite the excessive time spent, the guards had taken time to tighten each… and every… single… one. Along her shoulder, bicep, elbow, forearm, and wrist… along her toes, her heel, her ankle, her calves, her thighs, and so on.

And every single strap bit tight against her flesh, compressing and keeping her quite packed up. There were a few extra accouterments for canines like her, namely a posture collar locking to the back of the chair. Further, two heavy metal spheres had been locked down over her paws, keeping her from even flexing them. She was ungagged. For now.

Kiera snarled but didn’t say a thing. She didn’t want to give anyone from the Cat Empire any ammunition to use against her. She knew she was already in deep trouble. The Cat Empire was rumored to be quite unfair in its treatment of canine visitors.

Having briefed the woman, the two guards in the interrogation cell left, leaving only their leader in red. She flipped through pages of readouts and initial interrogation notes.

The cat shook her head. “We already did. We noticed several inconsistencies. I don’t know who you are, ‘Kiera’ but you’re not sports star. And you’re certainly not here as an athlete. So, just between us girls, who are you, really?”

The cat sidled up to Kiera, getting closer to the wolf’s blue fur and putting a hand on her head. It was so charming, so sweet. Kiera did everything she could not to roll her eyes.

“Tsk,” said the cat. “Forgeries. Inconsistencies. Small things, and enough that add up. Your height’s wrong, your weight’s wrong, the sports you engage in are wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, dear. I’m afraid that I’ve even run this through our algorithms, and there’s only one possibility - assassin. Treasoner. A hired killer. Mercenary scum, or perhaps a saboteur for hire. I’m not certain.”

Kiera roared at the top of her lungs. She had NEVER been so insulted! In her mind, she’d rip this kitty to shreds! She’d never had her honor so besmirched, and she would never stand for it! She leapt from the chair…

…except, she didn’t. She didn’t even make the chair rock. She only managed to flex against the straps.
The cat shook her head. “Tsk. I knew it. We already searched you up and down for drugs or implants, but even so, we’ll have to make sure you’re held in ultra-max security while we try and figure this out. Can’t have you trying to escape or hurt yourself while we work on your case.”
Kiera tried to break free- again - and this time was just so much more impotent. She huffed, trying to regain her breath.

“You idiot,” she shouted. “You’re an absolute dolt. Stupid, mangy kitty, I am exactly who I say I am. You-”

“My name,” said that cat, “is mistress Madeline.” She continued her interruption quickly, not giving Kiera any time to continue her curses. “I’ve been following the sports career of someone named Kiera for quite some time, though, and I’m not sure if that’s you.”

“Exactly what I’m doing right now,” said Madeline, licking her lips. “This is EXACTLY what I want. You can’t give me anything I’m not already enjoying. Anything you have to offer, I will simply take.”

====

“Not only is this standard practice for all prisoners,” said Madeline, “it’s standard practice for many citizens of the cat empire as well. I myself have given it a whirl as part of a physical examination after returning from a lapine station.”

Madeline bared her fangs, grinning at the wolf. She was nude; not much shine today, aside from a thick collar. Warden Madeline didn’t mind. Nudity was its own kind of outfit; it showed off rippling muscles, thick thighs, and did a lovely job showing off just how strong the wolf could be.

“You’ll never know the difference,” Madeline said with a wink. “I doubt you’ll ever get the chance to visit the Cat Empire as a tourist.”

Kiera was bundled up in a box-tie armbinder, sleeved up with her limbs out of the way. From the thighs down, her legs were completely encased in a small but completely solid block of easy-set resin. Kiera was undergoing very careful quarantine examinations; being checked over for any foreign parasites via scanners and constant molestations. A trio of suited and masked guards in black and red were going over her fur with a fine-toothed comb. It made Kiera blush; the strange sensory input of being touched and groped and combed and deeply examined was an experience she had never contemplated.

Warden Madeline had been unsubtle with her plans for the wolf. First, she had made sure to investigate her in a traditional manor, vetting her claims and finding out that, yes, she was to visit for an athletic event.

With the investigation completed - and the wolf therefore being at zero fault for wrongdoing - Madeline worked via a network of proxies and agents to ensure that Kiera would be more than just a detainee. Agents hired doubles to create the impression that she had visited her hotel, become involved in crime, and then simply… disappeared, presumably having committed some deed that would necessitate her vacating the premises.

Of course, Kiera had never actually made it out of Madeline’s custody, and - as she had insinuated earlier - she never would. Madeline had seen the wolf from afar for quite some time, studying the athlete, obsessing over her, and fantasizing about the opportunity to have that strong, powerful woman as clay in her hands.

Now was the time. The warden quietly signed paperwork, ensuring that this prisoner - an anonymous visitor known only as #917 - would be hers to do with as she saw fit. And Madeline saw a great many things in her toy’s future…

“Good morning again, Prisoner!”
Kiera was, depending on the Warden’s mood, able to turn her head to see her situation better. This was one of those days.

Among the things that Madeline had seen in Kiera’s future was a rigging that she’d fantasized about for years. Heavy. Inescapable. Impenetrable. And, for as long as Madeline wished, absolutely permanent. And she never let her little wolf forget it.

It was a “free” day, which, in this case, meant that Kiera was only subjected to the whims and frenetic fantasies of her jailer. On “training” days, she might be given that hood, and forcibly re-educated for hours on end. Those were brutal on her psyche, but Kiera was strong enough to tune it out. But she couldn’t tune out the feline’s fine-tuned touches.

“I just saw how long it’s been since you joined us.” Madeline moved with a swagger, her eyes getting bigger as she got closer to her wolf. “And can you believe it’s only been a month?”

“NFRRR…” Kiera knew it was a lie, one to taunt her. It had been many months; at least nine, before she lost count. That presumably included time she’d spent in stasis or a sleeping storage… but she couldn’t be sure. Either way, Kiera didn’t know how long it had been… only that it had been a long time.

The wolf’s bondage was simply exquisite. Custom-designed by Madeline using odds and ends from her prison, but always brought over the top. Only the finest for her lovely little package, her beautiful doll, her most precious, precious possession. On a day like this, Madeline just had to take it all in and sigh with delight.

Thick rubber based on her uniform, but of course re-designed for indefinite wear. Three times as tight; nearly vac-sealed in some places, and definitely vac-sealed in others. It made every little curve and nip and nape of her body ripple so gloriously under the lights of the cell - lights that ranged from harsh to enticingly soft.

Black rubber in most places, clear in a few others - those specifically designed to show off Madeline’s favorite teasing spots - and all of it sealed on by high-tech calculations and unyielding adhesive.

Thick steel, nearly 30mm thick in spots, had ended up being more than a cruelty; it was a necessity. The stimulation devices in the suit would keep the wolf quiet healthy, but had the unintended effect of making her just as strong as she normally was - a few torn restraints had taught Madeline that there was simply no “going easy” on Perma-Prisoner 0917.

Maximum security meant ‘absolute overkill,’ and that going beyond the standard and into the experimental. The mag-locks on her steel were the least interesting part of her gear. Clamps around her teats to massage, heat, torment, and scan; heavy steel bands to make sure her posture was “ergonomic” and her chest was eternally presented for inspection.

If the bands and tormenting from her clamps weren’t enough, the HEAVY hood and heavier-duty earplugs were among the most experimental options. They delivered the warden’s long speeches with stunning fidelity. They transmitted over many kilometers, they could block out ALL sound whenever needed… and they also went deep inside the canine’s ear canal.

Whenever Madeline was feeling experimental - which, going on her ninth month of ultramax encasement - she’d play deep binaural audio. Kiera hated it, in that she adored it, and hated how exciting it was every time Madeline gave her something to listen to other than her voice. Music seemed to reverberate deep into her spine. The sound of plastic wrapping bored into her brain. The deep, low sounds of moaning and groaning and kissing and licking felt as if someone was touching her, groping her, edging her even when Kiera knew she was all alone as a rubber slave.

The shaking sound of Kiera’s shackles made Madeline blush a bit. Kiera was in a good mood today. Madeline couldn’t wait to take good care of her, and ruin that mood so horribly.

She started with touches. Soft gropes, all along exposed - or at least, relatively exposed - flesh. Gentle, tender, massaging, prodding.

She moved on to rubbing. Heating her up. Gently fingering over those ultra-heavy steel restraints. Gently moving her hands around one of her favorite additions of all - the steel chastity belt that had been built into Kiera’s suit.

Because it was a part of the suit, that meant it simply didn’t come off. Which meant that, no matter how weak Madeline was, she could never remove it; never give in to her base desires and let her little puppet over the edge. No no, no; it was a cat’s duty as a cat to play with her prey. And letting her dolly cum was simply unacceptable. Prisoners were to be edged, to be toyed with, to be displayed - but never to be released, never to enjoy release.

“I think I got the date wrong,” said Madeline. “We’re closing in on a year of your capture. What do you think?”

“Mmnggggggggnn….” Kiera made a slightly lower, more relaxed sound as she heard the telltale wrhrrrr of a magic wand vibrator. Her body heated up. Her mind, angry, turned to fluster. She huffed into her thick hood, heated air leaving her hooked nostrils.

“A lot can happen in a year.” Madeline was enjoying this so deeply. She moved the vibrator up and down Kiera’s thighs before puttig it in contact with the plate. She slowly pushed it in further, the increasing pressure sending more and more vibrations channeled through the titanium lock that kept her rubbertoy forever edged.

“Do you remember when I took you to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs? That was when I had you on all fours. That was a cute, though of course you’re a bit bigger than me and you kept on bucking like a beast….”

“That was the week I had you punished. Remember that? Locked up in a sarcophagus-cylinder. I let you feel that liquid rubber drip over your body one drop at a time. I kept telling you that it was a fitting punishment to have you sealed up forever… but I lied. That would have been WAY too easy.”

Kiera started to buck again. The jingling of the chains. The moaning. The squirming. Madeline could feel her toy ripping in her fingers.

Kiera nodded vigorously… except that she didn’t. She tried to, but suddenly, the heavy metal collar around her neck was doing more than just keeping her restraint - it was keeping her neck still.

In her lewd repose, she hadn’t realized that, overnight, Warden Madeline had replaced her metal collar with something slimmer - something with more options. It had inflated, seemingly working ot choke her, to squeeze her, to tease at her sensitive neck… and to keep her from nodding.

Madeline shrugged. “Well, I can’t make out what you’re saying. Maybe tomorrow I’ll ask again if you’d like some release… oh, but speaking of. What about an orgasm?”

The cat brought the vibe up tight against the plate. Kiera could feel vibrations coursing throughout her body; her flesh felt tight, her mind spun. Her womb ached with need, leaving her to curl her toes and flex her fingers in thick overly-secure inflated rubber mitts and boots.

Kiera tried her best to lower her gaze, to make eye contact. Her submissive sensitivity had been completely subsumed by a fury; an anger; a growing rage at being denied and toyed with. She grunted, groaned, shook, sent the sensors to red before the toys and earplugs began their work to overload her with stimuli and quiet her down.

Madeline was biting her lip, staring at those angry eyes. Yes. This was what she wanted, more than (almost) anything. To see this athlete straining, groaning, moaning… and utterly slaved to her will. Madeline knew she never wanted to break her toy… but bending her like this was an absolutely transcendent experience.

Madeline shook her head. Tch. “If you insist. I’ll ask you again in a year, #0917.”

====

Below the warden’s office were the cells; below the cells were the “Vault.” Below the vault, none could say, but any prisoners who had been sent there had never returned.

Except for one, of course. Except for 917, who had been subjected to seemingly every form of torture imaginable… before escaping.
How she had escaped wasn’t said, but there were whispers that the Warden had arranged it. Just as there were whispers that, after months of freedom, Kiera had been recaptured. But she wasn’t sent to High-Sec or Ultramax or anywhere else.

The wolf didn’t snarl; she groaned. She’d tasted freedom, and was now forced to taste defeat. The fight wasn’t in her the way it had been two years ago when she was first captured.

Kiera had been given the “deluxe” treatment. In Madeline’s terminology, that meant starting with a prison suit - an upgraded copy of her original prisoner uniform - before being heat-sealed into a snug straitjacket. Madeline was growing sappy and snuggly with her victim; the cat loved the idea of making sure that her lovely little forever slave would enjoy a constant self-hug.

Over that went the double-layer overcoat, designed to keep her huggable and squishy. Locked at the bottom by a set of garters around her legs, and mated to an inflatable collar up top. Madeline was already looking forward to throwing her in the pool and watching her squirm and float.

Kiera made some lovely, pathetic sounds. It was barely audible through the hood and gas mask, but it was still music to Madeline’s ears.

But there was one more sound she wanted to hear. One more thing from her wolf companion that she wanted to hear more than anything else.

She leaned in close. She grasped her as well as she could. Kiera responded, heavily restrained, thickly packed, but still vaguely able to move and respond.

“Welcome back, 0917. I said I’d let you go… but I didn’t say anything about leaving you free. You must have known I’d recapture you one day.

And now that you’re here, you’re mine. I’ve given you tastes of life outside my walls. And I’m sure you found them downright boring. Since I first captured you two years ago, I'm sure you've realized... There’s nowhere you belong, nowhere I could let you be. Nowhere other than right here.

Madeline smiled. She heard that long-awaited sound; a rattle of release, a sensation of more than acceptance. It was the sound of the body and mind, still whole yet bent; the sound of a captive who would never truly be broken being truly molded to Madeline’s will.

The sound of Kiera experiencing an earth-shattering orgasm; the noise of the wolf groaning, riding, squirming. The very thought of her predicament, her status as her permanent prisoner, her unending sentence as a toy and plaything, sending her over the edge. The knowledge that, however she was dressed, whether she was restrained or free or mobile or enclosed, whether she was in Madeline’s care or on the run - she was hers. She belonged to the Warden, now and forever, and she would never, ever be able to escape.

It was musical. It made Madeline smile coyly, feeling her body heat up from the thought - as well as the proximity to Kiera’s heat, her rubbing body, her form, racked up in her office.

Madeline quietly signalled that she was not to be disturbed. Not as long as Kiera was finally experiencing the end to her denial, the forced final nail in her coffin; the ongoing speech through gagged lips that told Madeline everything she wanted to hear.