(Author’s note: This story takes advantage of some equipment, which it may enhance your reading experience to farmiliarise yourself with. The piece of equipment in question is called the “bitch bender”, a type of bondage apparatus. You can google it for yourself but here’s a reddit post:
[https://www.reddit.com/r/BNSFW/comments/gddm7a/the_bitch_bender_is_a_machine_made_for_extremely/](https://www.reddit.com/r/BNSFW/comments/gddm7a/the_bitch_bender_is_a_machine_made_for_extremely/)
There’s also a piece of equipment which I won’t spoil which is a concoction of my own, which I think is pretty cool.
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy. )
She opened her eyes hazily to unfamiliar surroundings. She had a brief memory of a cold uncomfortable floor, and startling, uncomfortable movement. Her head drooped, and when she raised it, she found the environment too bright for her to process anything around her. She raised her arm to brush the hair out of her face, or she intended to, but her arm did not move. She tried once more to raise her arm. It was bound down. To a chair. No, not to a chair. To a pole, and she was sitting on the floor. She looked around the room once more.
She appeared to be in some sort of warehouse. It was a well-kept place, with different machines sprawled around the edges of the room. The room was well-lit, despite being very large, and she sat in what she assumed to be the centre of the room, but she couldn’t see behind her, and the way she was bound combined with her fatigue made it very difficult for her to turn her head to see. So instead, she panicked. She panicked for a while, but then her panic subsided for a constant background nervousness. She sat for a long while, she did not know how long. It might have been an hour, or it might have been closer to a day; with her state of mind it was impossible to tell.
She thought back to how she had gotten here, clearly somebody had taken her. The last thing she remembered was walking along the beach near her home. She was only about halfway through her usual walk in her most recent memory, so she assumed she must have been taken from there. She panicked again. Where was she? Why was she here? Would she ever see her friends again? Tears rolled down her face. She never found it in herself to struggle in the restraints; she could feel that they were secure and she was not going anywhere.
After some time, when the tears and the panic had come and gone a few times, she was finally ripped from her trance by the sound of a door opening. The sound came from behind her, and was preceded by footsteps. After about 5 seconds, a man dressed in all black stepped in front of her. He was a large but gruff man. He was silent. He unshackled her with a firm grip, and she felt that there was no point in struggling. He moved her over to the other side of the room, towards the corner she had been looking at just earlier on, and she got a clearer view of some of the machines. She did not know what they were for.
With one arm still holding her, he pulled a chair from behind one of them, it had cuffs for her wrists and legs on it. He sat her down on the chair and cuffed her wrists, before removing her shoes and socks, rolling up her trouser legs and cuffing her legs at the ankles. She was once again secure. The chair was light and she was sure she could move it, but once again, she was painfully aware it was pointless. From a cabinet next to one of the machines the man pulled out a bag. It was the sort of bag one might keep kitchen knives in, but she suspected that was not it. He rolled over a table from behind the cabinet and laid out the bag on the table, unstrapping it and rolling it so the contents were clear to see. It was too far away for her to make out the contents of the bag, and the man stood in the way, but the occasional glint of silver and the clang of metal gave her hints that it contained some sort of tools.
The man walked over to her with a pair of scissors, and, still silent, began to cut her clothes. She was unsure if her silence was fueled by shock, or fear, but she felt sobs rising through her body, being mightily suppressed in her chest. He carefully removed all of her clothes, until she was fully naked on the chair, a layer of fabric, the remnants of her clothes, sitting between her and the cold wood. He made the affair seem so casual and simple, as though he had done it a thousand times. This made her uneasy.
He unshackled her wrists and ankles and once again grabbed her by the arm and moved her over to the other corner of the room. They walked to the wall, where there was some sort of machine protruding from the wall. It was long and rectangular, and was attached to hinges at the base. He pulled a large squared machine from the wall which laid flat on the floor. The exposed surface seemed to be a mattress. He pulled a long blue rubber sheet attached to a frame down from the wall, it laid flat on the mattress once he had removed it, and it was shorter than the mattress was. He gestured for her to lay down on the sheet.
She could see now that there was a hole in the frame where her head was to go. She hesitated for a moment, but shakily obeyed. He pulled another rubber sheet from the wall and laid it on top of her. Her head was exposed but her body was entirely covered. He moved her hair out from under her back so it laid on the mattress above her head. Then, he began to lower another machine onto her, similar to the first one. She began to panic again and spoke her first words to the man.
“What’s about to happen?” She whimpered frantically. He remained silent, and continued to lower the machine.
“What’s about to happen to me?” She spoke louder this time, panic clear in her voice. Still, he remained silent. Her breathing and heart rate were increasing. The machine continued to lower towards her. She had never felt so scared in her life. Was she more fearful of this machine, or more fearful of the silent man operating it? Before she had had time to decide, the machine closed her into darkness.
It was only about 10 seconds before the machine was lifted off of her. What she had felt in the machine was unlike anything she had experienced before. First, the air was sucked from all around her, ripped from her lungs, but most importantly, ripped from between the two sheets. The sheets hugged her body tightly, and were pressed by the soft spongy things which were very apparently not mattresses. Then, she felt an extreme heat tightly hugging her body. Or an extreme cold, she was unsure.
Either way, when she emerged from the machine, she experienced a strange weightlessness as the sponges seemed to inflate and stop hugging her body. Only then did she realise that she was compressed extremely tightly in the machine. She also gasped deeply for breath. Then, she realised she was encased tightly in the blue rubber, and that even though both sheets were down, she was free to stand and move about. She looked towards her captor. He gestured for her to do so, and shakily, she did. The suit she was now wearing fought against her movement, in a strange and restrictive way. If she was unsure she could feasibly run away before, she certainly could not now. It also made a loud squeaking noise whenever she moved.
The suit hugged her body and came just below the top of her neck, giving a strange feeling of binding and restriction while also leaving her entirely free to move. It rode tightly up into her crotch and she could feel discomfort building with every step. She wondered how the suit was supposed to be removed, considering the manner in which it had been quite literally sealed onto her body, but she didn’t have long to wonder before she stood before another machine. This machine stood tall and appeared to be a sideways bed, surrounded by straps going all the way down.
He undid all of the straps with one hand and then forcefully moved her to be standing on a platform so her stomach was against the bed and her head was above it. He strapped her to the bed, first at her ankles, then at her calves, knees, thighs, etc. Once he had strapped the top of her back, and ensured her arms were straight at her sides, he pressed a button which tightened all of the straps simultaneously and abruptly. She was entrapped tightly, so tightly that she was sure she wouldn’t be like this too long. At this point, the panic and sobs had stopped. She felt more like an observer than a participant, and her fear had subsided for a passive curiosity. She felt disgusted that she wasn’t more scared, but she also knew the pointlessness of struggle, and had resigned herself simply to hope it would be over soon.
She was facing a complicated machine, which was holding the board up, with what appeared to be pistons. She was less inclined to call it a bed now, as it seemed more like a board of wood (though it was metallic and slightly padded on the side she was strapped to). The man, now free from the burden of having to ensure she didn’t try anything, stepped away from her and over to a control board which appeared to be attached to the body of the machine directly in front of her. He pressed a button, and the pistons began to extend. She was expecting to be evenly pushed back, but was unpleasantly surprised to find the top and bottom of her body being pushed back, while her midriff remained stationary.
She was being bent by this machine, and it hurt. She tried to scream, but there was no air in her lungs, her chest was being squeezed so tightly she couldn’t muster a breath. Her back was bending uncomfortably, and her legs were being squeezed in a way she had never felt before. She could feel her breasts being compressed into her chest, and the only free part of her, her head, hung powerlessly behind the rest of her body, which was unnatural considering her body was oriented vertically. Her hair hung limply, no longer touching her back.
Eventually, the machine distended and her body was “free” again. She was still strapped tightly to the board, but compared to the hell of a second ago, she felt like she was flying. The sound of choked gasps filled the air, and only when her nausea had passed enough for conscious thought did she realise the sounds were coming from her. She filled her lungs as quickly as she could, terrified the machine would be turned on again. She had been forced back into her body and away from her comfortable observing seat in the most unpleasant way imaginable, and the shock alone was enough to bring a tidal wave of emotion washing through her body. Tears and sobs followed, and she looked towards the man, still stood at the control board staring at her.
“Why are you doing this?” She barely managed between sobs. The man maintained his silence. She hung her head forwards in defeat. She had no idea why she was here or what this was accomplishing. She had no idea what was in store for her. Not long before, she had been sure she was either going to die or be released, but now she did not know what to think.
Finally, the man stepped away from the control panel, and a small relief passed over her. The relief was short lived, as he stepped towards her. He opened his mouth, she didn’t think she had seen him do this before now. He followed the surprise with another, as he began to speak. His voice was deep and commanding.
“The device you’ve found yourself in,” he said, “is called a bitch bender. A quite crude name, I think, but it does the job.”
She took the chance to repeat her question “Why are you doing this?” only to be ignored as he continued.
“As you can see, the device compresses your body to cut off your airways and give you great discomfort.” She was still crying, but she said nothing.
“I’ve brought you here for a quite simple reason. You belong to me. I want you to remember those words.” He said, adding confusion to her sobs, which were now increasing in volume.
“Every time you ask yourself, “Why is he doing this?” I want you to think of those words,” he said, “You belong to me.” he repeated slowly. She looked at him in horror and confusion.
“Now, this machine is hooked up to a heart monitor, and a breath monitor. You can never, ever, die as long as you are under my care. But, I don’t think your new status has completely sunk in yet. It’s only natural, going from person to slave is a difficult transition.” He spoke nonchalantly, which only added to her disgust.
He stood for a second, as though waiting for a response. She had stopped crying now, but gave none. He walked over to his cabinet and removed a black piece of fabric, she was unsure what it was until he approached, and saw that it was in fact 2 items. Her horror once more increased. It was some sort of black, solid mask, and a large, dark purple dildo. Without wasting much time he forced the dildo into her mouth, making her gag and splutter. It went in without much resistance, primarily because she was not in a position to resist. He held it there for a second and spoke once more.
“Now, I’m going to leave you here for a few hours while I go and run some errands. I’ll set the machine to keep you conscious, while I’m gone, I want you to really think about your position. The pain should remind you of the phrase I want you to echo in your head: You belong to me.” She screamed against the gag and began to cry and sob again, but she was powerless to prevent him from putting the sensory deprivation hood over her head, taking the world away from her, zipping it at the back, and switching the machine on.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/oyu54p/compression_chapter_1_extreme_noncon_mdom_latex