All Change for Amy

She arrived at Geraldine's Borstal home precisely on time. She had thrown a heavy woolen overcoat over the rubber dress, a last-minute pang of modesty and practicality she now deeply regretted. Geraldine opened the door, her expression unreadable. Her eyes flickered over the coat, a spark of something cold in their depths. "Why are you wearing a coat?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet.

Amy went to answer, to offer some flimsy excuse, but Geraldine held up a hand, silencing her instantly. "I don't want to know," she said, her tone dripping with disappointment. "I'm disappointed you couldn't even follow a simple instruction. If I had wanted you to wear a coat, I would have told you to wear a coat." She led a crestfallen Amy into the house and up the stairs to a room she hadn't seen before. It was sparse, with dark wood floors and a single, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. "Kneel in the middle," Geraldine commanded.

The dress creaked loudly in the silence as Amy knelt, the position difficult in the tight rubber. "Put your hands behind your back," Geraldine ordered. As Amy complied, Geraldine walked behind her. The next thing Amy knew, something was being pulled down over her head. It was a rubber hood, and as it settled into place, she was plunged into darkness. Panic flared in her chest. The hood gripped her chin and cheeks tightly, molding itself to her face, leaving only her mouth and nose open. She was blind, utterly dependent on her other senses, which were suddenly screaming in protest.

Before she could process the blindness, another shock came. A gag was being shoved into her mouth. It was shaped like a small, soft penis, filling her mouth completely. The outside was a flat rubber plate that covered her lips entirely, effectively silencing her. She could breathe, but she couldn't speak, couldn't make a sound beyond a muffled whimper. A thick collar came next, also made of heavy rubber. Geraldine pulled it tight around her neck, bridging the gap between the hood and the dress, adding another layer of constriction, another symbol of her ownership.

Amy was panicking now, her breath coming in ragged gasps through her nose, but Geraldine was relentless. Some kind of sleeve was pulled up over her arms, forcing them together behind her back in an uncomfortable elbow-to-elbow position. Geraldine tightened the straps, and Amy felt her shoulders scream in protest. More straps followed, locking her into a kneeling, hogtied position, her body bent and immobile. Another strap was pulled under her chin and tightened around her head, forcing her to look forward. Then there was a whirring sound, and a chain was attached to the back of her hood, pulling her head upwards slightly, just enough to keep her upright on her knees and prevent her from slumping.

She was a statue of red rubber and black fear, completely immobilized. Just when she thought it couldn't get any more intense, she felt something long and firm being pushed beneath the tight rubber dress. It was maneuvered until it was pressed directly against her slick, swollen pussy. There was a click. And then the world exploded. A magic wand, powerful and insistent, began to pulsate against her clit, sending shockwaves of overwhelming sensation through her trapped body.

Geraldine stood back to admire her creation. Amy was a perfect picture of submission, a gleaming red toy bound and helpless, her body already beginning to twitch against the relentless assault. Geraldine made sure the small, discreet camera in the corner of the room was on and the microphone was live. Her clients would want to see this. They would want to watch the struggle for the next hour or so as Amy fought, and ultimately failed, to resist the barrage of vibrations assaulting her pussy, a captive audience to a forced and public orgasm.