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At the Academy
by Pleasewrap
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© Copyright 2013 - Pleasewrap - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/m; captive; cuffs; chain; hobble; gag; foam; encase; display; outdoors; tease; denial; cons/reluct; X
This is a work of fiction that contains adult themes and activities. If that’s not your cup of tea, find something else to do. These characters are entirely fictional, so if they resemble you or anyone you know that’s entirely coincidental.
At the Academy 7: Decoration Pleasewrap F/m; captive; cuffs; chain; hobble; gag; foam; encase; display; outdoors; tease; denial; cons/reluct; X

continues from part 6

Part 7: Decoration

“Let’s go, Roger. I know you can move faster than that even with the hobble.”

Andrea tugged on the rope she’d attached around his waist. His hands were firmly cuffed behind his back, and the cuffs at his ankles had about a 2 foot chain between them.

“I can’t see and the chain from my wrists to the hobble occasionally makes things interesting.” He said, too much anger in his voice for someone who was naked, cuffed, blindfolded, and being forced to walk outside. The slight chill in the air had warned him about the last part before he could feel the grass under his feet.

The morning had been a bit of a blur. Andrea had apparently set the random timer to shut down completely after a while, because it had stopped and never started again. Despite being frustrated and stimulated, he’d finally fallen into as good a sleep as he could manage imprisoned as he was. He had woken up to see bright sunlight illuminating the ceiling and the slight humming that meant Andrea was busy with the medical cutter. He had no idea where, because he couldn’t see her through the 3-4” wide tunnel of rubber that defined his entire field of view.

So he had felt the cuffs go on his ankles and then his wrists before he’d even seen her. She’d cleared just enough to reach the right places and secured them. Then she’d started working up from his feet towards his head. As soon as enough rubber had been removed, she’d run a chain from the one connecting his wrist cuffs to the far shorter hobble she had started with and pulled hard until his hands could only move up as much as he moved a foot at the same time. He lay there and took it silently, even managing to avoid a noise when she’d stroked his penis a few times.

Once he was fully free and able to sit up, she had helped him to his feet.

“Very good – not a sound at all. Excellent.” She was positively beaming. He remained silent, but glared at her. She laughed.

“C’mon. I’ve got a bit more of 13 hours of you as my slave and there’s a lot to do. Starting with cleaning you up.”

She’d forced him to take his tiny steps to the bathroom where she joined him in the shower. The heat, the soap, the rubbing to get him clean had led to a natural conclusion and he hadn’t even resisted when she’d changed the cuffs so that his hands were behind him and his penis was available to her. After that, the gag had come out and she’d cleaned up his face and head.

After drying him off, she got a bigger hobble and took him off to get breakfast. In a scene out of some kinky comic, they made small talk while she fed him a simple breakfast. Some fruit, some oatmeal, and some juice. He asked her about the cabin and found out that it was modeled after one her family used to use. He found out she’d been up for an hour already before she woke him. She’d checked for any messages for him and there weren’t any. If he weren’t naked and chained, it would have fit around many, many tables. But she had obviously been in a hurry and started looking a bit disgruntled so he’d tried to keep the talking down and the eating up.

When he was done, they traipsed back to the bathroom where he managed to take a dump of fairly impressive proportions. After she had cleaned him up, the blindfold had appeared.

“Let’s go. It’s contest time and I’m going to win. But the timer started four minutes ago.”

She hadn’t told him not to speak, so he went ahead and asked “Contest? What contest?”

He heard a giggle. “You’ll see. C’mon. I’ve got just under an hour left.”

And now he was outside the cabin, a bit uncomfortable from the chill, being hustled along. She didn’t bother to lengthen the hobble or do anything about the chain to his wrists, so he did the best he could.

It was only another minute or two when she said “OK. Stop. Stand right there. Be silent now.”

He felt her play with the chains and pull his ankles closer together – maybe 2 inches apart.

“Kneel down slowly.”

He felt her hands pushing against his chest as he did stabilizing him so he didn’t fall. Something soft gave way under his knees – maybe a pillow.

“Scoot forward slowly until I say to stop.”

He inched forward until he could no longer feel the grass under his feet, and then kept going forward a little more. Either this was a big pillow, foam rubber, or some of the ShipSafe. “How much of that did they get?” he wondered.

“Stop. You can let your butt down until it touches your ankles.”

He felt her playing with the chain from his ankles to his wrists – probably swapping it out. When she said “OK, try pulling your butt up as high as you can go,” that thought was confirmed. He moved about three inches, then the chain stopped him.

“That’s perfect.”

He felt a rubber ball on his lips. It was time for a gag and he didn’t bother to wait for a command. He opened his mouth and she’d inserted an inflatable bulb that she quickly strapped in place and pumped up. He quickly discovered it was a breather gag.

“Forty minutes. That ought to be just enough time if I hurry and you cooperate. So cooperate or you’ll regret it.”

He heard the shaking, the hissing – and then felt the coolness of the ShipSafe as the spray on rubber started being applied around his legs. She was careful to fill the gap between his shins and what was almost certainly more of the rubber so that it lifted his feet just a hair before the expansion stopped. Then she’d started applying it more quickly around the rest of his legs. The sound of spraying stopped and she, they, waited for the expansion to stop.

She’d used a good amount of it because it reached almost to the top of his heel, which was the part of his foot furthest from the ground. He could feel a firm base beneath him now that gripped his legs, though he could easily pull free of it if he tried – the coverage just wasn’t enough.

“OK. Sit up until the chain to your ankles is tight, and then back off just a tiny bit.”

Roger couldn’t help but think “What the hell?” But he complied. It wasn’t until she’d started spraying again that he decided she wanted to make sure she covered the back of his legs without any gaps. As one can hissed, spraying the stuff all around him, he could hear her shaking another can. She really was in a hurry.

She paused only briefly this time, just long enough for the rubber between the back of his legs and his ass to expand high enough that he would have trouble getting his butt down from where it was. Then the spraying started again, this time covering him from his shoulders down to where the current rubber stopped. And she was applying a lot of it very quickly. There was slight pressure on him as it expanded, but he figured he wasn’t in a container or the expansion would really get dangerous.

He thought she used about two cans to finish what she was doing now, and she’d raised the level of the rubber all the way to his chin. He could hear her spraying where he couldn’t feel it landing and didn’t detect the coolness or warmth. Probably adding volume lower down. He sighed. Then the hissing stopped, the rubber right below his chin cooling as it stopped expanding.

He felt her hand on the back of his head. “You are absolutely, positively not to move. Do you understand?” He grunted and nodded as best he could. And then he’d nearly failed to obey when he felt her inserting a tube in his right nostril, then his left.

“You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth and you’ll be fine.” He grunted again, this time with a hint of protest.

Then the spraying had resumed, and moved upwards as it covered his head. He felt her playing with something behind his head for a moment, but the pause was brief. Then the spraying resumed until the foam expanded to cover just a bit above his eyebrows. Strangely, he didn’t feel it pushing against his eyes or the blindfold at all. And then Andrea had tugged and pulled until the blindfold had slid up his face and out of the way. There was a brief flash of light when she did, but the rubber at and above his eyebrows quickly sealed the gap before he could take in anything.

He could do little more than kneel there now, the foam gripping him with just enough pressure that he didn’t need to use any strength at all to stay in position. He could breathe well enough and followed her directions. He felt the spray cover the top of his head, but by that point his ears where covered and he heard nothing. He struggled experimentally and found it fruitless. Even if he hadn’t been securely cuffed, he was going nowhere.

A dull humming and a very slight vibration reached him through the rubber. It sounded like the cutter, but why would Andrea be setting him free so quickly? There was no way, was there? Just in case, he struggled a bit to see if he could hurry the process along. He never came in contact with the medical cutter and did little more than help his erection grow a bit, pushing against the rubber that gently pushed back.

He guessed it was ten minutes, but it easily could have been double that. That’s when he’d been stunned as the darkness in front of his eyes shifted and suddenly he could see outside. Andrea had put a box or some toilet paper rolls or something in front of his face to create a cavity around his eyes. There was now a small slit that he could see out, and he could see that two to three inches of the rubber surrounded his head.

Andrea was moving around a great deal, but whenever he caught glimpses of her, she seemed to be smiling broadly. He decided to growl a bit and her face had appeared in front of his eyes, somehow both stern and playful at the same time. He grumbled, then was quiet.

Then Andrea was walking away a bit. When she got around fifteen feet away she stopped, laughed, and gave him two thumbs up. And then she’d walked out of view. Suspended kneeling, Roger decided now would be a good time to escape, but the rubber around him told him there were other plans and he did nothing more than increase the pressure on his manhood as it collected more blood and increased its push against the rubber around him. He closed his eyes and growled, thrashing until he tired due to the limited air he could bring in. He sat back in the rubber and panted with his eyes still closed.

When he opened them, there were Amy and Andrea just walking in to his line of sight. They came down a path to his left, and both were laughing, Amy nearly doubling over as she walked. He wondered what she was laughing at until she pointed at him, said something to Andrea, and started stumbling towards him while she also tried to get a breath. He really wished that he could hear her, but that was just impossible.

When she got about five feet away, she’d recovered enough to be looking at him fairly intently. Then she’d made eye contact with him. Even if he couldn’t hear her, he could make out “Holy Shit!” on her lips. Then more laughter ensued.

Amy got close enough that she filled his field of vision and waved one of those cutesy, move-half-your-fingers-and-not-your-whole-hand wave. He gave up on being good. He harrumphed and tried to struggle again, but she ignored him, stood up so his eyes were just below her breasts, and then walked out of his view to the right. Andrea was about six feet away, talking and smiling.

Then Amy reentered his vision from the left, walking towards Andrea. She extended her hand and the two shook, Amy gesturing grandly in his direction. Andrea laughed and he thought he saw “Thank you” form on her lips. He struggled some more just to see if anything had changed. Then the women had exited, stage right and left him to look at the tree line in front of him.

A few minutes later, Andrea was back, still smiling. She held her personal tablet and was writing on it. She held it close enough for him to see clearly.

“Good job, handsome – we won!”

Roger couldn’t help but make a questioning noise. Andrea pulled the tablet back, cleared the screen and began writing again. A few seconds later, it was back where he could read.

“Contest was who could be more creative with that stuff. We won.”

He grunted again, which she took to mean he’d read it. She cleared the screen again and wrote one more time.

“Want to see your winning entry? Ken’s a relief on a bench.”

He really didn’t – he just wanted her to cut him loose and do something about his erection. But she didn’t read that into his grunt and stepped back until she was back to about fifteen feet away, holding the tablet to take a picture. Suddenly, Amy came running over, laughing and saying something. Andrea gave her the tablet and ran back in his direction. A slight compression on the left side of his head made him think she was leaning against him there. Amy took the picture and laughed as she looked at the image. She approached him, flipping the tablet so he could see.

Andrea was leaning against a very nicely formed, if a bit squat, snowman made out of three snowballs. The rubber had been painted white, decorated with coal buttons, a carrot nose, sticks for arms, and a top hat. The tube for his gag was apparent if you looked, replacing one of the pieces of coal in the snowman’s smile. There was only one large hole for the eye, which Andrea had “fixed” to look less out of place by making it appear to be glasses. But if you looked very closely, you could see his eyes catching just a bit of light deep inside that.

Amy laughed, handed Andrea the tablet, and reached out to pat him on his head. He didn’t feel it of course, but it didn’t make much difference. The gesture put him over the edge.

Roger let loose with a torrent of complaints and abuse which his gag turned into an unintelligible harangue as he struggled madly against the rubber. Amy left his view and for a moment he could see no one. Then Andrea, writing on the tablet, appeared from his left.

“Bad snowmen don’t get fun, even if they win. You’re in timeout.”

He whined as she left his field of view, pulling madly against the balls of rubber that surrounded him. Again, it did nothing but excite him though now he’d reached the limits of what the material would allow. Sadly, the pressure didn’t seem to be enough to stimulate him to climax. He fairly shouted in to his gag and sagged back to rest in his rubber prison.

When the vibration began and flowed through the rubber, he knew that timeout wasn’t going to be that easy.

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01.03.13

story continues in part eight

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