Works by WBoson

Works by WBoson

Obstacle Course

CRASH!!

Another pylon toppled over, spilling a pyramid of cheap wine glasses onto the concrete.

“Shit!” squealed Peyton, recoiling at the loud shattering. “It’s called mind CONTROL, dumbass!”

Mira’s brow furrowed deeper, her thumbs working the remote furiously. It was like the girl in the test dummy suit jerkily stumbling through the obstacle course was fighting her. She glanced at the readout to be sure the subject’s arousal and executive function were still in their desired ranges. They were. Shit, why wasn’t it working?

“Dammit, we have to present this next week!” Peyton moaned, taking in the prototype’s stiff arms and clumsy gait. “They want to be doing live fire tests at the start of next month! Does that thing look under control enough to have a GUN to you??”

Mira again said nothing, but she knew Peyton was right. When she had signed up as a researcher on what her employers called the “Enhanced Employee Obedience Technologies” program, she hadn’t expected it to come close to her master’s thesis in difficulty. But now, coming up on 20 half-functioning prototypes later, it looked more and more like she and Peyton would find themselves in the bad graces of the R&D board. And, of course, that would result in being demoted. To test subject.

Mira scowled again at the stumbling figure through the glass, and tried not to think about how she’d look in yellow.

Thanksgiving Humiliation

“Maybe I should leave room for dessert,” you think, before shoveling more thanksgiving dinner into your mouth. Your whole extended family is watching you pig out, but after yet another quarter of dining hall food, you’re not about to squander the perks of being back home from college. You’re just going back for thirds on mashed potatoes when your grandma, across the table from you, gasps. You turn to look, and your eyes widen in horror.

“Look grandma, I found this weird cat costume in Rebecca’s suitcase! Isn’t it cool?” Your little sister shouts. She’s draped awkwardly in your Battle Kitty uniform, the fitted latex falling loosely around her much smaller frame. Your cheeks flush bright red and you feel yourself break out in a cold sweat as a dozen pairs of judgemental eyes swivel to you. Your dad, right next to you, sternly points at the shiny outfit and growls “So. That’s yours?” You wither under his gaze, several seconds of dead silence at the table passing before you manage “i..it’s m..m..my Halloween c..costume?” You didn’t even convince yourself, much less any of your relatives. Half of them, including your dad, work in some kind of counterintelligence or organized crime enforcement. They know exactly what that uniform is.

“Marie, go take that…thing off and put it in my den. Rebecca: step outside please. We’re gonna have a little talk.” You can only nod sheepishly. You knew that suit might get you killed, but somehow it’s earned you a fate even worse.

When I was your age

You stand glumly in the den, still beet red, barely able to focus on your dad’s rant. He’s been going for what feels like an hour about how dangerous it is to be a henchgirl and how you’re going to get yourself killed, and is just now getting to how embarrassing your decisions are to the family.

“For Christsake, Uncle John used to let you come to his Bureau office to sell gal scout cookies! That was already questionable from a security standpoint, imagine if his boss found out you’re a god damn Battle Kitty now!! I can’t— Katharine, what is it? I thought I told you I’ll handle this.”

You turn to see your mom entering the den, strangely smiling and holding a cardboard box. She sets it on the desk next to your Kitty suit.

“I just have something I want to show both of you. I think it might help your little situation.”

You’re not sure how that’s possible, but you’re glad for any break from your dad’s tirade. Your mom slides the lid off the box and reaches inside.

“I never told you, Rebecca, or even you, Frank, but back when I was in college, I… may have done a bit of henching myself.”

She pulls out a purple spandex catsuit, old but still shimmery in the light. Your dad’s jaw grazes the floor, his eyes widening in total shock. You also open your mouth in surprise, but unlike your father a delighted grin plays at the corners. “Mom!?! No way!!”

“Yes way,” your mom responds. “In fact, your dad doesn’t know it but that’s actually how we first met. He KO’ed me in this suit while I was patrolling one night, but not before I recognized him from one of my classes. I thought it was so hot that I asked him out that Monday, and the rest is history.” Turning to your dad, who’s still frozen in stunned silence, she continues: “Frank, I think you should let Rebecca keep doing what she’s doing. It’s risky, sure, but it’s exciting, and look how well it worked out for me! And besides, Rebecca is an adult now, I think she’s old enough to make these choices herself.”

Your dad finally manages to splutter out a “But—” but your mom cuts him off yet again. “Rebecca, go put your suit away and go back to dinner. Your father and I are gonna have a little talk.”

You can’t contain your grin as you exit the room, leaving your dad at the mercy of your mom. Have you really gotten out of this unscathed, AND learned the juiciest family secret you’ve ever heard? Awash in relief, your thoughts at last turn away from your embarrassment… and towards the pie your grandma made for dessert!

Covert Suit-Up

Rebecca locked the bathroom door and excitedly turned to the mirror. She removed her Battle Kitty suit from concealment beneath her bathrobe and laid it out on the vanity, then reached in and started the shower. She didn’t have any intention of bathing, but the hissing water would hopefully cover the inevitable (and unmistakable) sound of latex. It wasn’t the best cover, but it should be enough.

Since the Thanksgiving incident, Rebecca and her parents had come to a tentative understanding: they wouldn’t do anything about her involvement with the Battle Kitties, and in return she would make sure her family–especially her dad and sister–didn’t see or hear anything Kitty-related whenever she was home from college. (If they were hoping to keep Marie from eventually following in her footsteps, Rebecca thought, they’d probably already failed…it was all her sister ever wanted to talk about whenever she knew a parent couldn’t hear.) But nevertheless, she had managed to avoid any henching for the rest of thanksgiving break, and returned to school for the winter quarter without being grounded, disowned, or otherwise feeling her dad’s wrath. Now Rebecca was home again, it was halfway through winter break… and she couldn’t take it anymore! She had to get her suit on and go misbehave.

She let her robe fall, pausing for just a moment to take herself in in the mirror before beginning her shiny transformation with a full-body coating of lube. The fitted catsuit felt glorious as it slid over her slippery skin, coating her in a perfectly tight layer of shiny rubber. It ascended her figure more slowly than usual as she fought to keep the process quieter than the shower. Each gentle caress up the length of a limb or her torso, aimed at removing air trapped beneath, had the potential to give her away to her family. It also felt amazing, Rebecca thought. After almost 2 weeks without latex, she was more excited for this suit-up than for christmas in a few days!

When she got the suit up to her neck, Rebecca paused to lace up her corset. Its constricting tightness only added to the comforting enclosure of the outfit. Satisfied that the corset was sufficiently concealing the effects of all the holiday sweets she’d been enjoying, she moved on at last to the hood. In the mirror, Rebecca watched as her face disappeared behind the shiny mask, only her eyes reemerging to give any indication of who was under the skintight costume. AAA! This is my favorite part!! Rebecca squealed inwardly, the cuteness of her little latex cat ears overwhelming her yet again. She reached up to zip herself in, at the same time bringing her other fist up to strike a cute cat’s paw pose. “Nyaa-Nya!” she whispered to herself with a giggle as the zipper slid home, sealing her into her Kitty alter ego.

Only one item left to go now. Rebecca smiled down at the tailplug, still sitting on the counter next to her bottle of lube. When she had first joined the Kitties this part had been the most uncomfortable, but now it just looked like an opportunity to do something about the heat that had been building between her legs since the moment she’d entered the bathroom. As she laid down on the bath rug and went to unzip herself, she wondered if it was condensation from the shower dripping from the zipper tab or… something else. Only one way to find out…

New Pet Kitten

“Come on! Speak!” the imposing blonde Mistress ordered her new kitten. The latex-encased pet nervously nuzzled her owner’s oiled thigh, but still didn’t offer the required vocalization. The domme tugged on her leash, elevating the kitten’s chin and causing her wide, as-yet-uncovered eyes to meet her owner’s stern gaze.

“I said. SPEAK.”

Mistress’s tone was harsh and authoritative, and the cruel smile on her face made more than just her pet’s heart flutter. Suddenly desperate to avoid displeasing its superior, the kitten managed a timid “Mrowww!”, stifled by the rubber strapped across its mouth but just audible enough to widen the smile on its owner’s face.

“That’s more like it, Pet. You’re still going to have to pay for how long that took to get out of you, but I think you might just train up quite nicely with a little encouragement.”

Pleased with itself, the Kitten continued nuzzling its owner’s leg as she bent down to strap the blindfold to its hood, about to complete its enclosure. Whatever this “Encouragement” was, it sounded nice.

A Special Batch

Kara opened the door to her dungeon and stepped inside, surveying its three shiny inhabitants with a smile. Immediately upon hearing her enter, the black-clad rubberdolls lined up, each eager to be the first to receive its mistress’s attention. They played with themselves greedily, shiny gloved fingers finding their way to squishy breasts and latex-lined orifices in an effort to convince her that they were the one who could provide the most intense pleasure to their user. “Exactly as they were trained to,” Kara thought proudly. This very special batch was coming along nicely.

Kara walked slowly in front of her dolls, noting with satisfaction that even she had no idea which one was which. When her three best friends since childhood had accidentally discovered that “object-oriented programmer”, her tongue-in-cheek SFW job title, in reality had nothing to do with computers, she hadn’t expected them to beg to collectively try out her full dollification regimen. And she definitely hadn’t expected some of them to go as far as getting implants to make their rubberdoll selves as identical as possible. They were really, genuinely into this.

“And it shows!” Kara thought as she finally selected a doll, pulling it to its knees via two fingers hooked into its condomed mouth. To Kara’s delight, it automatically placed its hands behind its back and turned its face upward, ready to receive. The dolls’ willingness, obedience, and pleasuring ability had only improved with training. As she prepared her strap to give the doll a proper workout, she wondered how excited they’d be by the news that she’d secured a group contract for the trio: two months providing nearly around-the-clock “service” at an exclusive resort for the ultra-wealthy in Switzerland. It was Kara’s most prestigious (and lucrative!) doll placement to date, and the rubberdolls would need to be perfect when they shipped out next month. But they would be. Like she’d told the resort official when she’d signed the contract: “They’re my best batch yet. I’ve known these dolls for a very long time!”

This One’s Foreign-Maid

“I…I just can’t believe that’s really me I’m looking at!” Lily gasps as she takes herself in in the locker room mirror. “Locker room” felt like the wrong term for the space, which despite its lowly purpose was far more opulent than any room she could remember being in. Light from the soaring arched windows paints shiny streaks on her catsuited body, washing out the warmer glow of the multiple chandeliers. Lily’s hands trace the reflections, the intoxicating rustling sounds of the material causing her to bite her lip in excitement.

“Best get used to it, love. It’ll be a bit before you look any different.” Lily’s friend Juliet joins her in front of the mirror, her own uniform identical to Lily’s apart from the temporary omission of her mask. She snakes an arm behind Lily, bringing her gag up to her mouth.

“Alright, open wide! You’ve got to be perfect for your first day!”

Juliet smiles as Lily obediently opens her mouth for the inflatable insert. When her old university roommate had first arrived from America, she had simply wanted to get a firsthand account from Juliet about her job as a rubber servant, to add perspective to some thinkpiece she was writing for her magazine. But as the visit went on, Juliet had managed to convince her that what she really needed was some firsthand experience of the ins and outs of latex servitude. A few rounds of “job training” later, and Lily had suddenly decided to tell her editor that the story would require a much longer stay in England than anticipated.

“Funny how that always seems to happen,” Juliet smirks to herself as she fastens the gag at the back of Lily’s head and locks it. Being a senior maid came with certain responsibilities; recruitment was one, keeping the new stock under lock and key was another. Juliet was succeeding at both, and she knew her Masters would reward her for it. That the latest acquisition was a close friend just made the whole affair feel even more mischievous.

“Right, you’re all done up then. Let me just get the rest of my kit on and I’ll give you a proper tour of the mansion!”

Lily practically hops up and down with excitement as Juliet fastens her own mask and gag and leads her out into the immaculate corridors of the Estate house. Her service has finally begun!

This also has a related work by Fimotro.

The Perfect Present

Maddie walked around the room one last time to make sure everything was perfect. It wasn’t easy in her pointy ballet boots, but she eventually confirmed that her note to her partner was taped to the door, her key was draped around the handle, and enough light was spilling out into the hallway of her otherwise-dark apartment to attract attention.

Satisfied, she hobbled back over to her dresser, admiring the veritable buffet of goodies she’d carefully laid out. Toys, restraints, latex-safe lubricants, shining spray… everything was good to go. Maddie glanced at the clock–it was almost six, her partner would be here any second!–and hurriedly picked up her hood. Showtime.

Balling up the interior side of the red oral sheath and pulling it into her mouth with her tongue, Maddie slid the hood over her head, reveling in the loss of her vision and the tightness of her second skin as she zipped herself into total enclosure. She fumbled around for a moment to find her collar, wrapping the stiff leather around her throat and passing the hasp through its slot to hold it in place. Ordinarily she might have stopped at this point to savor the final step, but today she was too excited. She scooped up the padlock and slid it through the hasp, not hesitating one bit before pushing the shackle into the lock body with a satisfying click!

Stillness. After the flurry of motion, standing silent at attention was somehow even more arousing than dressing up had been. The anticipation built as Maddie waited, its reflective thighs quivering a little as it listened for the sound of its partner–no, not partner now, its owner!–opening the door. “This may be a gift for you, but I’m going to enjoy it more!” Maddie thought to itself, noting the wetness already spreading down its legs inside its suit.

The apartment door opened, and a voice called out.

“Maddie! It’s me, happy anniversary! Umm…where’d you go?”

Maddie’s pulse pounded as footsteps approached the bedroom door. This was going to be the best anniversary ever!

A Hazy Daydream

Emily sighed quietly and looked over at the clock. How was her professor this boring? She’d loved math back in high school, but Statistics 201 was turning out to be even more mind-numbing than the useless gen-eds she’d been forced to take last year. Ugh, this was an hour-long lecture–had it really only been 15 minutes?

Emily looked around for ways to distract herself. Her prof didn’t allow laptops or phones, so no scrolling insta. Her earbuds had already died and she’d left the charging case in her apartment, so no music. Desperate for any relief from the onslaught of formulas and theorems, Emily resorted to thumbing through the next few weeks in her planner. Midterm, midterm, project due, practice final…ooh! Sorority initiation!

Grateful for the mental detour, Emily let her mind drift to the secretive rituals of Lambda Tau Chi. She’d chosen to rush ΛTX in a fit of uncharacteristic naughtiness, based on whispers that it was the “kinkiest sorority”, but so far she still wasn’t sure exactly how that was going to manifest. There were a few clues: during rush, she and the other hopefuls had taken a curiously in-depth “which fetish are YOU?” quiz as an “icebreaker”, and then just a few weeks ago their pledge leader had requested suspiciously detailed body measurements from the pledges for their “initiation uniforms”. The only concrete information so far was the sisters constantly repeating that all proceedings would be “voluntary and safe”, whatever that meant. Not a lot to go on, but that certainly didn’t stop Emily’s imagination.

In her mind, she envisioned her perfect version of how things would go. She’d arrive with the other pledges, and almost immediately be ordered to strip. When they were all bare and red-cheeked, the sisters would hand them their made to measure latex catsuits and get to work wrangling them into the tight rubber. Emily imagined their hands sliding along her limbs and body to smooth the shiny material, not stopping until her eyeless hood was on and all the pledges were identical black rubberdolls. What other details?…bondage mitts, surely, and a ring gag to keep her mouth open wide! Then what? Her mind raced. Then…let’s see…they’d be marched to a frat house, taken down to the basement, and locked into improvised plumbing pipe bondage frames to immobilize them completely! They’d be nothing but willing toys for the partying frat bros! Emily could almost hear the approaching footsteps as the first one comes up to her…the sound of unzipping…

“…and remember, problem set nine is due next Wednesday in class. See you all on Monday.” Emily was rudely jolted from her thoughts by the sound of her classmates getting up to leave. Blushing, she removed the eraser end of her pencil from deeper in her mouth than she had realized it had reached, and began to hurriedly collect her own papers. Damn, that was the fastest this class had gone by all semester! As she exited the lecture hall, she wondered if her fantasy had any hope of coming true. She knew she should probably lower her expectations but the scene in the frat house basement was stuck in her mind now. Oh well, at the very least she could finally enjoy Stats lecture!

Gimp Pong

Emily blinked a couple of times and tried to focus, the ping-pong ball gripped tight in her latex-sheathed fingers. It should be so easy, right? Just throw the ball into one of the other player’s cups. Simple! Around her, several of her friends were shouting encouragement, including many other members of her Lambda Tau Chi pledge class. The ones who could still speak, at least. Between their inebriated shouts, the jeers from the other end of the table, and the general raucousness of the party around them, Emily was little worried for her hearing, and a lot worried for her ability to throw straight.

The game was Gimp Pong, a ΛTX specialty. The rules were the same as normal pong, except for two complications. First, at least one player, and preferably all, had to be wearing full latex. Second, and most importantly, every time a ball landed in one of a player’s cups, rather that drink its contents that player was given another bondage restraint or device. When all your cups were gone, the final restraint was added and you were fully gimped. And while the winner could remove their restraints after the game, the loser was stuck that way for the rest of the party!

For Emily, the game was going very poorly. On her end of the table there remained just two of her original ten cups, while her opponent still had seven. Accordingly, Emily was already covered in bondage gear. She was gagged, harnessed, and collared, and her legs were strapped together, hobbling her. Her dominant right hand was also lost, cuffed uselessly at her hip. Worst of all (so far), the last cup lost had resulted in a buzzing Hitachi being wedged between her already-bound thighs, pressed right up against her in a way that made it very, very difficult to focus on anything else. Losing another cup would earn her a blindfold; with the final cup, her only remaining free hand would join the other at her hip, completely eliminating her freedom.

“You gotta make a double on this one, Em! I don’t wanna have to put this on ya!” Tyler, one of the frat boys who’d been helping her into her various restraints, wiggled the pink blindfold at her. “Just one cup away!” “Your drunk ass absolutely wants to put that on me and you know it!” Emily thought, but her gag permitted only a dirty look. She looked past Tyler for a moment, at the row of already fully-gimped ΛTX sisters lined up against the “wall of shame”, then returned to aiming her shot once again. She pulled back, and threw! Everybody watched as the ball sailed in a high arc, dipped straight towards the opposing cups…

…And bounced off a rim, sailing right off the table. SHIT! Emily let out an “MMPH!!” of frustration as her friends offered conciliatory words and back pats. She watched helplessly as her opponent retrieved the ball and casually threw it in the same sort of high arc Emily’s shot had taken…

Plip! it dropped right in Emily’s lead cup without so much as touching the sides. The spectators went wild! Emily looked over at Tyler, embarrassment and frustration evident in her eyes. He looked right back, wordlessly holding up the blindfold with a smug grin. Dammit. The Wall of Shame was all but certain now…

Give me a hand with this? :)

Navya struggled with her catsuit, tugging at the shiny rubber as forcefully as she dared without tearing it. Unlike her previous couple of shifts in her first week as a Kitty, she hadn’t arrived early to give herself extra suit-up time, and now she was regretting that decision. She glanced up at the clock, swore under her breath, and squeezed even more dressing aid into the gap between the latex and her smooth caramel-colored skin.

As she continued to wrestle her suit, another girl entered the room, opened her locker, and began to strip. Navya shyly averted her gaze. She thought she recognized the other girl from her previous shifts, but it was hard to say when only everyone’s eyes were visible under their hoods. Besides, there was no time for chit-chat, her shift started in less than 10 minutes and her catsuit was still only up to her hips…

“Hey, new girl, right? Could you give me a hand with this?” Navya turned, a bit startled, to face her coworker. Much to her dismay, she was basically fully dressed, her catsuit zipped up to her neck. How had she done that so fast?? Recognizing Navya’s surprised look, she reassured: “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it! It just takes practice. I’ll even help you, if you help me get this in.” She waggled her hand, and Navya, still reeling, finally figured out what she was holding and what she wanted done with it.

“Oh…I can, yeah, I can help I think…”

“Great, ‘preciate it! My name’s Riley, what’s yours?”

“It’s N..Navya.”

Riley rolled the name around her tongue as Navya accepted the offered tailplug and looked around for some lube. “Navya… pretty name, for a pretty girl. You’re gonna look great in that catsuit, even though I’ll miss the view.” Navya looked down, blushing as she realized she still had Riley in the full glare of her headlights.

“Oh, yeah… I guess the orientation packet probably didn’t mean these when they said I should ‘meet the girls’.”

Riley laughed as she leaned up against the locker for Navya’s tailplug assistance. “You’ be surprised, actually. Don’t sweat a little flash or two, we’re all pretty… familiar with each other. As you’re about to find out.” Navya blushed deeper as Riley reached back and spread herself, revealing where the plug was supposed to go. Still, despite her jitters, the pretty Asian’s charm had made the sudden situation feel inviting, rather that intimidating. Overcoming her bashfulness, Navya stepped up behind her, aligned the plug with the waiting orifice, and pushed.

The tailplug went in easier than she’d expected, eliciting only a quick moan from Riley. She turned and smiled, tail now swinging unsupported as she zipped it securely into place. “Mmhh, thanks! Now let’s see if we can get you full-rubberized before they give you a late penalty.” Navya accepted the help gratefully, and found herself enjoying the feeling of Riley’s hands helping to pull her catsuit up around her more than a little. This job just got better and better!

Steamy Showertime

Riley spun around as Navya entered the otherwise-deserted shower room, rushing over to her and putting her latex-gloved hands on Navya’s shiny shoulders. “So??? What did you think??” Navya looked down, embarrassed by her friend’s excitement but clearly smiling beneath her hood. “What did I think of what?” Riley gave her shoulders an expectant shake. “Of your first firefight, dummy! Your first action!!”

Navya half-dragged the insistent Riley towards the showers, unzipping and pulling off her hood as Riley already had. Her feigned nonchalance fell with the mask, a giddy grin painting her sweat-streaked face. “Ohmygodohmygod…I’m still shaking! It was so fucking intense…and I wasn’t even in the heaviest action!” Her grin became sheepish. “Don’t you dare tell a fucking soul but I almost pissed myself when I heard the first shots go off! I thought for sure I was gonna get eliminated right up until the all-clear. I was so relieved!”

Riley smiled, impishly biting her lip. “I want to tease you so bad…but I won’t. Everyone has jitters the first time, the important thing is you didn’t run away and hide in a closet. Or immediately get wasted.” She kept her hands on Navya’s trembling shoulders, admiring how pretty the Indian Kitty looked despite her disheveled state. Navya looked back, equally fixated on the way Riley’s wet hair framed her face. “Hey, totally up to you, but do you wanna have a little…one-on-one celebration of your survival?” Riley asked, slowly turned Navya so her back was to the shower wall, her hands sliding down to Navya’s corseted waist. Navya smiled knowingly, putting her own arms around Riley and pulling their shiny bodies together. “I could go for some celebrating,” She whispered, reaching over and turning on an adjacent shower to its hottest setting.

As steam filled the room, the two Kitties’ lips met, their entwining bodies ready to make the most of Navya’s adrenaline-fueled post-combat euphoria!

T.R.A.P.T.

[ICFC TECHNOLOGY MEMORANDUM // 004-13-2089]

Tether Rail Automated Prisoner Transfer (TRAPT) System - Overview

Despite the ICFC’s large catalog of personal restraint technologies for prisoners requiring Excessive Restraint at All Times (ERAT), correctional officers have repeatedly requested a way to eliminate the need for officers to be in close proximity to ERAT prisoners during routine intra-facility transfers. These transfers currently place the fewest protective measures between dangerous inmates and staff, with security often relying solely on the prisoner’s on-body restraints and the officer’s own vigilance. Accordingly, officers report the most prisoner-related injuries during such transfers*, resulting in a clear need for improved security.

Several initial proposals have already been ruled out due to excessive cost and/or burden on staff. These include humanoid robotic guards (extremely costly, high maintenance) and expanding Sedated or Fully Immobilized (SFI) transfer techniques to all ERAT prisoner transfers (too time-intensive for routine movements in facilities with hundreds or thousands of inmates).

Enter the Tether Rail Automated Prisoner Transfer (TRAPT) system. TRAPT rails are to be installed in corridors and other transfer routes within ICFC detention facilities. On these rails will run TRAPT guide units, which autonomously lead prisoners from point to point on a retractable cable “leash” with minimal need for staff involvement. TRAPT units integrate monitoring and incentive hardware, allowing AI or correctional staff to identify aberrant behavior and deliver remote behavioral adjustment measures if the prisoner fails to respond to orders.

Pilot programs of the TRAPT system have shown impressive results, reducing prisoner-guard close contact by almost 70%. Officers report positive experiences as well, saying that the system “feels like playing a video game” and that “[officers] no longer feel constantly under attack and at risk of bodily injury”. ICFC plans to roll out TRAPT to all correctional facilities over the next few months.

*Note: The ICFC Board of Directors denies recent absurd allegations that correctional staff injuries are exaggerated or fabricated in order to justify increased prisoner restraint, and has shut down frivolous and unnecessary investigations into such matters.

[END MEMO]

Masking Kitties

Molly grinned as she joined her colleagues in front of the mirror. Like her, the other two girls were at least up to their necks in their sleek black Battle Kitty uniforms. Monica’s face had just disappeared as she slid the tight latex over her head, while Rebecca had completed her transformation and was zipping her hood closed, the shiny material cinching around her neck as she sealed herself in. At this rate they’d be ready to go in no time…corsets tightened, ears perked, and shiny tails swinging jauntily behind them!

Molly took a moment to appreciate how hot her friends were, her hands resting on her reflective chest as she too prepared to trade her face for an anonymizing latex mask. She thought about the sorts of pulse-pounding situations three feline henchgirls could get themselves into on a night like tonight, with rumors swirling of big moves by many of the area’s corporate and criminal organizations. Hell, even guard duty would probably be interesting…not that she wanted guard duty again. Ever since her and Rebecca’s christmas incident with the darts, she’d found herself craving more action, and Rebecca had said she felt the same. But it wasn’t up to them, it was up to the voice in their earpieces that would automatically deliver their assignments for the night when their shift started. Which would be in…

Shit, less than five minutes. Molly quit daydreaming and pulled her hood on, exchanging an eyes-only smile with her masked friends as they left the locker room and headed for the armory. Time for some fun!

Painful Prototype

Test subject Mira groaned through its gag and clenched its fist, trying to control itself. Owwww!!! Beneath its shiny yellow suit, it could already feel the welts beginning to form in each and every place a paintball had made contact. And unfortunately, that was a lot of places, including several of Mira’s most sensitive. Despite the unrelenting sting of the hits, it was imperative that Mira not move at all–not only because that was test protocol, but because the prototype autonomous sentry gun at the end of the hallway would see any movement as evidence that the prone dummy wasn’t sufficiently “neutralized”. And then…

Right on cue, Mira heard another angry whirring, followed by a wet splattering sound and a muffled yelp of pain. Yeah, that. When it had been demoted to test dummy and transferred to the weapons research division, Mira had desperately hoped (since it no longer had any say in the matter) to be assigned to tests that wouldn’t result in any permanent damage. But now, after the sadistic punishment the gun had dished out–had it been programmed to aim for the nipples and crotch??–Mira almost wished it’d been loaded with live ammo. Almost.

Just four more weeks of this, Mira reminded itself, until it got its freedom, Researcher rank, and normal pronouns back. Or was it six? They didn’t tell the dummies anything useful like that…it was all just “line up here”, “hold this fake gun”, “try to get to the stop button before it shoots you”, and on and on.

Fuck, it still hurt! “Why couldn’t I have been more of a masochist?? This could’ve been so much fun!” Mira lamented internally, turning its head slowly to see how many dummies were left. Not slowly enough, apparently. WHRRRR!!! Another stream of paintballs splattered mercilessly against Mira’s body, eliciting agonized squeals from the writhing dummy until it once again stopped moving.

Damn, this was going to be a long four weeks. Or six.

Valentine’s Day Protection

Vanessa smiled as she shined herself up. Everyone had always told her to “make sure to use a condom”–her health teachers back in school, her parents when she went off to college, her doctor at every checkup–but none of them had ever specified what kind of condom, or how much of her it should protect.

She looked at herself in the mirror again, her view blurry through the microperforations in her hood. “Surely all this is enough for one little Valentine’s Day party!” she thought, plunging her fingers into her rubber-lined mouth and rummaging to spread lubricant around. The bright red lovedoll she’d become stared back at her from the mirror, affirming that she was indeed adequately prepared. Nothing and nobody would be getting inside her suit…or out of it, she thought with a giggle, reaching back and tugging on the little padlock sealing her zippers shut.

Vanessa’s phone buzzed. Her friends were outside, ready to pick her up. She set the phone down next to the padlock key on her counter and headed for the door–she wouldn’t be needing either tonight!

LoFI Beats to get Distracted By

“Sector D Sentry 4 reporting in.”

“Confirmed, D4. I see you on cam. Continue scheduled patrol.” Monica sighed and sat back, putting her radio to the side and putting her headphones back on. Check-ins were done, at least for another hour. Cams shifts had their perks, but holy hell it got boring after a while. She hit play on her MP3 player, grateful to have anything to make the time go faster. No personal electronics were allowed on shift, and her skintight latex uniform made it very difficult to smuggle anything in, but the MP3 player was small enough to nestle nicely under her corset. Pair it with the headphones she always found stashed in a drawer in the cams room–probably for this exact purpose–and she had a decent little setup.

Monica leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as the music washed over her. Her hood muffled it a bit, but it was still sooo much better than listening to radio static or the whiny hum of the machinery in the building next door. She flipped absentmindedly through the cams–nothing but empty rooms and corridors, occasionally populated by a patrolling Kitty. During day shifts you could sometimes watch the scientists working in the genetics labs, or things being moved around the warehouses, but Monica’s college schedule left little room for henching during daylight hours. Instead it was just her, the full moon outside, and 211 of the facility’s most boring surveillance cameras.

Oooh, this was a good song. Between the calming lofi, the warm glow of her desk lamp, and the monotony of the cams, Monica felt herself getting drowsy. To amuse herself, she located her friends Molly and Rebecca, looking up their ID numbers on the patrol route schedule then flicking through those cams until she found each Kitty in turn, clicking along identical corridors in their identical heels. They looked just as bored as she was, and they didn’t have any music to listen to. Monica briefly considered radioing one of them, but the comms were monitored and non-essential communications weren’t allowed. sigh.

When would something interesting happen??

Remote-Controlled Robot

You shift a bit nervously on the couch, watching the time on your phone. Wait ten minutes, your girlfriend had said, then open the new app she’d installed and follow the prompts. That was all she gave you to go on, and it’s been 8 minutes since she disappeared into the bathroom. You wonder if this is some kind of sex thing… but she said it had to do with a project from work? The app is just called “Remote”, which doesn’t tell you much. Nine minutes now…what if she’s proposing? Or dumping you? Or got a big raise and is taking you to the Bahamas? Or–

Ten minutes. It’s time. You thumb the app icon, and it opens to a simple screen with a single blue button: “Activate.” Activate what?? This is tantalizing… you press. It disappears, replaced by a loading wheel and the words “Summoning subject. Please wait.” A second passes, and then the bathroom door swings wide, a figure silhouetted by the bright lights inside. As it steps stiffly forward, your eyes widen and you draw a sharp intake of breath…

Is that… her?? In front of you stands what appears to be a robot, its body covered from heels to head in some kind of metallic chrome material. And what a body! It mimics her body type so well…too well to be a replica, right? You look closer. The material doesn’t seem to be actual metal; instead, the seams and the subtle wrinkling at the joints suggests something like latex. “B..babe? Is that you in there?” It doesn’t answer, but you can see behind it that the bathroom is empty. Either your girlfriend has disappeared without a trace…or the shiny robot in front of you is actually her!

You suddenly remember the phone in your hand. You look back down at the app to find the screen is now a little model of the robot with nodes at various body parts. You tap the left arm node and jump as the robot’s arm twitches a bit, the blue LEDs on its earpieces blinking. As you scan the options for the arm you become more and more confident that you’re not going to the Bahamas and this is definitely a sex thing. You select “fondle” and set a target, then hit “send command”. The bot jolts to life, its shiny arm reaching up to sensually grope one of the squishy masses on its chest. The rest of its body stays oddly still, the painted-on rings serving as “eyes” as blank as ever. You and your girlfriend have done some freaky stuff, but this has gotta be the hottest of them all. She knocked this one out of the park!

You stand up and give the bot a once-around, taking in its reflective surface, cute little antennae, and the soft-looking rubber sheaths where its orifices would normally be. On the back, you have to squint to find the zipper…and when you do you note the locking mechanism keeping it firmly in place. You smile. Of course she thought of all the little details–that’s why she’s an engineer! You scan the app options gleefully, ready to start playing with your new toy.