“I don’t accept this court’s authority!”

The judge nodded. “Very well. I find you in contempt of court. We have no tolerance for anarchists or layabouts.”

Mira pleaded. “You’re no judge! They’re no police! I have a degree, I have experience, and I have no doubts that this is all just a b-”

Her last words as a free woman were silenced by a latex hood that went over her face. Mira spent a moment clutching at her latex-coated cheeks, pawing at her smooth face before the bailiff grabbed her wrists, shackled them tight, and dragged the hooded, gasping figure from the courtroom. 

The judge bashed her gavel. “Guilty. Next!” 

Mira had been arrested, tried, and sentenced in the course of a few hours. Of course, she didn’t understand or respect any of the proceedings. Her ‘arrest’ had been a group of rubber-clad thugs invading her home shortly after she put away a recent slave-acquisition. Her ‘trial’ had been a rambling list of kinky misdeeds. And her sentencing had been an indefinite stay at the “Rubber Rehabilitation Resort!” 

Obviously, she recognized that there was some wrongdoing in a legal sense. Mira was a recent graduate, and for completing her Masters’ degree she thought she’d enjoy some time as a Mistress. A few clicks and a few dark-net calls and she’d purchased her very own latex slave-seat. She even got a discount; her ‘internship’ had been working in the logistics of squirming, shiny human cargo, after all. 

To her horror, she was experiencing the exact same fate. She hated it, and as the baliffs dragged her to ‘processing’ she did everything she could to squirm and scream - despite the hood and heavy shackles. 

“Oh yeah. Mark this one as a problem.”
“That’ll automatically escalate her from Level 1 to Level 2.”
“Well she’s a criminal, isn’t she?”
“She’s more than that… I think she likes it.”

There was no prison bus, but there was a case. It was large, black, and looked like it should store sound equipment. But once it was opened, Mira realized that she was the instrument. Foam-rubber padding on the outside was designed to keep her hot, steamed, and immobile during her indefinite transit to the Rehab facility. And, since that was obviously not going to keep her totally still, a series of menacing-looking straps for her body would ensure she wouldn’t be moving much anyway. She could feel her throat swelling up as the crushingly tight embrace squished her inside. Once they started to lock the case, she felt something else stirring inside her. Mira’s toes flexed with each loud click of the heavy padlocks on the chest.




Warden Valeria dragged Mira down the hall by a collar. This Rubber Rehab Resort was definitely more like a playspace than an iron prison… but the bright colors didn’t make it any less strict. She’d seen well-equipped guards, prisoners under lockdown, rows and rows of cells and spaces. It was enough to make her gag, if she wasn’t already gagged! 

With Mira’s mouth PACKED full, and her arms restrained, she was already experiencing her very first bondage session. And she hadn’t even been processed or dressed… 

The Warden stopped for a moment, pausing to press Mira’s body up against the glass. “See inside this room, prisoner?”

Mira made a surly moaning sound. Don’t you know who I am!? She tried to say. But only a drooling muffled mnng mnngg hknnooow whoonggg hnnn nnggg?” came out. The Warden smiled, tugging her by the hair and then pressing her with her own body up against the glass. Now she absolutely couldn’t look away. 

Inside was a rubber prisoner in one of the most intense setups that Mira had ever seen. She was absolutely covered in thick-looking rubber from head to toe. It was like something out of a comic; all orange with black trim to maximize contrast. The hands and feet were also jet black, both mittened and padded to ensure that the hands couldn’t be used for any kind of real escape attempt. A huge barcode, like a lewd womb tattoo, drew her eyes downward… but it was the face - or lack thereof - that really got her steamed up. A black face with a white barcode… and the vague outlines of someone’s features visible through it. 

“That’s right, prisoner. Total enclosure. No identity, no name, no face. You’re NOTHING, just raw meat for us to use. Once you’re in, you’re not even a person. You’re a rubber prisoner… and worse than that, you’re mine.” 

Mira grunted and tried to look away, but the Warden forced her head tight against the wall. 

“Take a good look, prisoner. That’s going to be you very, very soon.” 

After a few days of intake, manhandling, squirming, and unwanted training, Mira was inside the cell with her new anonymous ‘roommate.’ Despite her domineering attitude, she was still a bit scared. Hence why she felt a certain comfort when the other inmate came up and hugged her. 

Mira had been on top plenty of times, but never once had she ever had the courage to ask to be tied up. Even though she’d been curious for a long time and interested for even longer. Now she was getting something greater than she could have ever imagined… and it was awful! And wonderful. She wasn’t sure how to feel yet, now that she’d been sealed inside thick rubber and forcefully thrown into a nice, cozy cell. 

And speaking of force, she realized that her inmate wasn’t being nice. She was being lewd. Something about the poor prisoners had driven them to desperate, lewd, needy heights. 

The prisoner pinned Mira down, forcing her to the floor as she used her bulk and weight to hump her, grind against her. Mira mewld into her squished face; she didn’t have much mobility in this thick rubber, and didn’t have the ability to resist. She just felt her poor heated frame getting more and more hot by the moment, the two blind prisoners grinding against each other intense squeaking, shrieking, mewling. 

Mira couldn’t deny it anymore. She was absolutely steamed. The physical heat was nothing compared the the arousal she’d felt from the moment she was grabbed. The taste of a gag, the sensation of an unyielding suit, and the utter lack of freedom. She’d dreamt about this, of being a rubber prisoner. Somewhere in her heart of hearts she’d wanted to be a faceless fuck-toy. She needed to be filled and framed and forcibly felt up like this. 




And that was when the guards stepped in.

“Prisoner 703-30F that is NO way to behave. This just earned you another six months of internment, another month of edging therapy, and another session of indefinite length in the hole.” 

Mira quivered. She felt her body quicken at just hearing those cruel and unusual punishments meted out. She was already imagining being lowered into a deep, dark storage unit, cumming her brains out as - 

“And you! Prisoner 703-31F. This is no way to behave on your first day.” 

The guard sealed up Mira’s poor roommate into a thick, inflated straitjacket. She could hear something thrumming and for a moment, the guards even gave Mira some vision so she could see what was happening.

“We’ve jacketed and inflated her. It’s a bit tighter than usual, but that’s what repeat offenders get. Why, I’d say it’s practically molding her; crush-depth levels of tightness. Just about right for what she tried to do to you…”

“Mmngg. Mngghh.” 

Mira said something vaguely like “thank you” to the guard, pawing her mittened hands over her masked face before being interrupted. 

“Just about but not quite enough. 30F didn’t even do things RIGHT. Nope. Now she gets a lesson in it. And so do you. Your roommate just got locked in chastity, and now she gets to hear our little session. Maybe this will teach her a lesson on how to have fun with the fresh meat.” 

Mira moaned again. She reflexively realized she was groping herself, but the guard grabbed her from behind. The guard rubbed her body against Mira’s, grabbing each of her wrists and leaning in close. 

The guard whispered into the captive’s ear, turning up the gain remotely. She wanted the rubber prisoner to hear every little syllable, feel the words going into her ear, see her brain realize what she was saying. As she did so, the guard reached down, gently stroking between Mira’s legs. 

Mira knew that an orgasm was coming. Felt it. Her senses were ablaze by the touches, the situation, the sensory deprivation disrupted by the intense overload. And that’s when the guard started to speak.

“Quit acting like you’re too good for this. I’ve read your profile. I know how you are. You’re here for life. No more luxury city living. No more fresh air or sunshine. Just a lifetime as a rubber prisoner, with countless advanced therapies and experiments. Your only escape is if someone decides to rent or buy you, because you’re not a person - just a dolly.” 

The thought of being a rubber plaything. The image in her head, of all those other girls she’d shipped, handled, and processed. And now she was one of them. One of many faceless playthings. She was spiraling, squirming, her legs quicking and toes twitching. 

She knew she had to escape, and she was already thinking about how to get out. But now all those plans were falling away as she rocked, moaned, groaned… felt her faceless visage rubbing against padded, thick rubber, felt her body groped and… the thoughts were so deep in her brain.

No face. No identity. No escape. The prisoner wasn’t Mira any longer. She was something more, and the sounds of her orgiastic bliss echoed for hours as the guard turned up Mira’s toys and broke in the newest resident of the resort.


-----

Story by me. 
Art by Fimotro.
Straitjacket by Scriptor.
Acquired Tastes suit design by Suichi and LayerIndustries.