Chapter 1 – A Present for a Dunce

The holiday season at the Academy was its typical mix of enjoyment and depression. The festivities planned always seemed to polarize the cadets, either looking forward to the parties, dances, and rest from the typical working schedule (which was grueling to be sure); or remembering family, friends, and lovers who were now far away. The fact that the minimum distance to one of the latter was over 100 million miles didn’t help many of the cadets. Throw in the average of over 22 light-years, and the depressed side wasn’t a surprise to anyone.

Into this odd mix of euphoria and gloom, Roger Derian strode. At five foot seven, he wasn’t particularly tall. His features were relatively plain, not unattractive, but not the type to turn every woman’s head when he walked into a room. His build was above average as the result of physical training, and he walked with a quiet agility as the result of his fondness for judo and acrobatics. At least the physical aspects of advanced espionage training hadn’t done wrong by him.

Sadly, his mental state fell towards the gloom side of the equation. At twenty, he was two years in to a four year training cycle, to be followed by a further four year commission as an officer in the “Deep Service” as the Intelligence Gathering Network was referred to. Created shortly after mankind had discovered the Ion Pulse Drive and encountered extraterrestrials, the Deep Service provided the Confederation of Human Systems (which was neither a confederation nor entirely human) the necessary information to prepare for, react to, and occasionally preempt actions by their not so friendly natives.

Roger was among the best of the recruits, at least in two critical areas – he was bright and learned quickly, and he took to physical training and the rigors of the Academy well. Many simply crumbled when presented with the space station floating in an isolated system with a small mining colony and spaceport as their closest outpost. But his tenacity, intelligence, and drive had provided him the means to rise above.

Sadly, his ability to grasp the social nuances was not as well developed. As Amy Cardigan watched him make his way from the lecture hall towards his quarters, she sighed and shook her head, replaying the dinner conversation from two nights ago in her head. They’d been sitting with Andrea Millar, a dazzling specimen of a woman who Amy would be jealous of if they weren’t friends and didn’t have opposite tastes in men. The conversation floated back to mind.

“You look down, Roger. Holidays aren’t attractive to you,” Andrea had said as Roger approached their table in the cafeteria. She was wearing a Christmas sweater with two bells strategically placed at the bustline. The red and green color offset beautifully with her long, black hair, and the coquettish look in her eyes would have set any man with an ounce of sense off. But Roger didn’t have that much social skills.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, Andrea,” he’d said as he came out of his reverie. Somehow he managed to miss Andrea’s subtle queues, perking up her chest ever so slightly to show off her bosom more, the gleam in her eye, the fact that she crossed her legs to show off the slit in her skirt. While uniforms were de rigeur, this was off hours and she’d chosen to remind everyone within the station she was all woman. “Yeah, I guess I’m just not coming ‘round to it this year. Can’t seem to forget that I won’t have another Christmas with the family for at least a year. And for some reason, I’m missing Mandy even though I’m sure she’s moved on.” His reference to his ex-girlfriend caused Amy to wince and Andrea’s smile to tighten slightly. Amy could see her running through the number of things she could hit him with that were in easy reach as he sat down.

“Well, you’ll just have to come to the dance and find a replacement,” said Amy, nearly glaring at Andrea. “There’s plenty of estrogen on board that’s looking for some company.”

Andrea did glare back, angry that Amy was being so transparent. Roger didn’t notice either look, focusing more on finding the salt.

“That might help, but I doubt I’d have much luck. Between studying and depression, I doubt I’d make much of a catch right now.”

“Roger, the last final’s in two days, the big dance in seven. What exactly will you be studying?”

Roger glanced up from his plate at Amy with an almost surprised look on his face. “Hadn’t really put it into that perspective, I suppose. The extra class-load this semester has had me running pretty ragged.”

Andrea leaned forward, hoping to attract his attention. “Well, I know I could help you find someone to go with. Plenty of girls around just waiting for the right person to ask.”

Amy nearly groaned out loud when Roger returned to his food with barely a glance in Andrea’s direction. “I suppose you could, but I’m not much in the mood…”

The conversation had faded to small talk and shop talk at that point. Andrea was obviously frustrated by the inexplicable density of Roger’s skull, and Amy had to battle the humor of the situation with the frustration that Andrea didn’t just up and ask him to go with her. That had even led to a fight between the friends later that night. It had pretty much ended with “That’s just not how I work,” from Andrea, followed by Amy pointing out that the alternative just wasn’t working either. Amy had left in a bit of a huff, royally pissed that her friends couldn’t seem to get together.

Amy was about to change that. She excused herself from her conversation, and intercepted Roger as he headed towards the lifts.

“Roger! Roger! Wait up,” she called out.

Roger looked up, the black circles under his eyes attesting to how hard he’d studied for the Cryptographic Algorithms and Methods final he’d just completed.

“Oh, hey Amy. Last one down.”

She’d smiled at him, remembering how grueling that course was when she’d taken it last year. Hours and hours of analysis, key crunching, and pattern recognition were absolutely no fun. And the fact that the average grade on the final was around a 40% made it hard for most to really dig into the class.

“And Crypto, no less. Bet your head is running at something close to light speed right now. Want a workout so you can crash more quickly?”

Roger started to shake his head, then seemed to think better of it.

“You’re probably right. Right now, I’d just toss and turn as I replayed whether or not I got the Psuedo Babel Fish transform correct. Judo? Or kick boxing?”

Amy smiled as the parts of her plan fell nearly perfectly into place. “Kick boxing. I want a chance to beat you.” She grinned at him as they summoned the lift and headed towards the Gym.

After changing into their workout gear, they met by the ring. With finals in full swing, the Gym was currently deserted, leaving just the two of them in the huge facility. Roger didn’t notice that the gurney that was always present for medical emergencies was out of its usual place and in relatively easy reach. Nor did he catch that Amy was careful to keep her gloves out of his line of sight while she finished preparing for their match.

In the ring, the sparring was fiercely competitive, though restrained. Neither combatant lost time in trying to score punches, and Roger didn’t notice that Amy seemed to hold her gloves up a bit higher than usual. Amy hovered just outside of his longer reach, waiting for the move she knew he’d eventually throw – a feint with his hands, followed by a spinning forward kick. She kept her guard up carefully, throwing enough punches to avoid being obvious, but they’d sparred enough that she knew it would eventually come.

And when it did, she nearly shouted in triumph into her mouthpiece. She absorbed the kick on her hip, trapping his foot with her right hand. Then she rapidly rotated her body, forcing Roger to turn, off-balance, and eventually fall as she pulled back and sideways. His judo training kicked in, and he rolled to land safely, face-first, with his hands forward to absorb the fall. And that’s when Amy tagged him in the middle of his upper back with a quick, effective jab. She grinned as the colored patch that had been on her glove successfully adhered to his skin. It would be just a matter of minutes now.

“A chance of winning,” he said as he rolled over and accepted her help getting up. “Hell, that was no contest. I must really be beat. You controlled that match from the start.”

It was obvious that he was finished, though Amy knew he couldn’t know how true that was. She spat out the mouthpiece and grinned.

“Well, you’ll remember it for next time, won’t you?”

The two chatted amiably about nothing, trying to avoid much in the way of real subjects as they took off headgear, gloves, and tape from their hands. Amy finished first, and planted her hands on her hips as she approached him.

“Roger, we’ve gotta talk. Exactly how dumb are you?”

He looked up from removing the tape from his right hand, more than a bit of confusion in his eyes.

“Huh? What the hell are you talking about?”

“You. Being dumb. About Andrea.”

“Amy, what in the name of…” he stumbled a bit as he tried to finish the sentence, then leaned against the side of the ring. “Uhhh. Must be more tired than I thought. Dizzy all of a sudden.”

Amy didn’t let the subject go. “Andrea’s been just about slapping you in the face with the fact that she wants you to ask her to the dance for a month, and you’re so dense you haven’t caught on. Why the hell don’t you ask her out?”

The look in Roger’s eyes was both priceless and pathetic at the same time. “Andrea and me? No way. She’s got every guy on the station looking at her. There’s no way she’d want me over any of them. Hell, even…”

“…even Mandy, yeah, I know. You weren’t her first choice. Well, bucko, Andrea’s passed up at least four invitations to the dance that I know of waiting for you, and you’re thicker than hull plating.”

“Amy, you’re wrong. Andrea and I are, uhhhh,” Roger sagged more against the ring, holding his head. “Amy, later, huh? Help me get to my room right now. I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

Amy shook her head at how dense he still could be, then smiled. “OK, Roger. I’ll help.”

And as he drifted into complete unconsciousness, she caught him and eased him to the floor. She quickly retrieved the gurney and lifted him on to it, but when they reached the elevator, she picked a different button than one for the cadet’s quarters…

Hours later, Roger began to wake. Amy could hear his breathing change as he came to, slightly deeper and more rapid. She smiled, ignoring it for the moment as she reached for more ribbon. When he finally took a deep, long breath through his nose and moved enough to indicate he was struggling, she stood and moved into his field of view.

“Calm down, Roger. It’s me and I’ll explain. Maybe you won’t even press charges.”

His eyes lost a bit of their panic, though not all of it. Amy slowly walked over to the vid-screen and turned it on, pressing a button to trigger a recording.

“You really are dense,” she said as the accelerated playback showed his form on the gurney. The occasional camera shake made it obvious that it was either hand held or attached to a moving body. Her hand, still sweaty from sparring, had pushed the button for the lab areas in the lift, and the two had exited. Roger grunted, finally realizing he was quite effectively gagged.

“Andrea has had the hots for you all year, and you’re too stupid to clue in on it. Hell, at the Second Year Gala, she nearly forced your face into her cleavage and you didn’t notice.”

The doors to the lift in the video opened, and a quick trip down some deserted halls showed Roger’s progress down a series of corridors to a door marked “Restraint Lab.”

“And then this gloomy gus attitude of yours. Makes me want to puke that you’re pining over a girl you admitted you really didn’t like all that much and probably is already on to her next victim.”

Amy had moved out of his line of sight, and while he tried to locate her, his head wouldn’t turn properly. It was impossible to do much more but listen and watch as the video replayed in somewhat comical fast-motion. He saw his body being stripped, and a clam-shell like apparatus opening close by.

“So I’m doing what I seem to do best, Roger. Taking action.” As Amy spoke, she slid more of the wide green ribbon around her captive. He felt it only as pressure, and grunted as though trying to speak. Amy stood and returned in front of him.

“Oh, save your strength. I’m not letting you go after all this. Just watch one more minute and you’ll understand your predicament.”

Roger had little choice. The video showed Amy position him in the apparatus, which had a hollow for a human form. He saw her hands pressing buttons, and what appeared to be inflatable forms filled until they nearly matched his body perfectly. Only a small gap could be discerned. Tubes were placed in his nose and mouth, and then the clamshell closed over his body. The screen faded briefly to black, and came back to life to show the machine reopening.

“This is a restraint we’ve been working on in the lab. There’s a spray-on version as well, but it tends not to have the smooth appearance of this process. Plus, it’s not quite as form-fitting.”

Roger had to stop struggling and stare in surprise. Where he had once been was a rubber form, sealed from head to toe with only the tubes protruding from his nostrils and mouth. The bright, shiny red material covered every other bit of his skin, making him a complete rubber mummy in one of the primary colors of the coming Christmas.

“You’ll like this part, geek that you are.”

As Roger watched, Amy’s hand, now in casual clothing, came into view and swabbed the area over his eyes, nose, and mouth with a liquid. She took great care to apply it from a cloth, rather than pouring it directly on him, then rubbing gently. As she did, the material slowly faded until a slightly rounded oval revealed his features. He glanced at her and she grinned.

“Marvelous, huh? Dissolves without a trace or allergic reactions. Of course, I couldn’t have you making a ruckus, but I didn’t want the tube to ruin the look…”

The tubes were pulled from his mouth, which moved unconsciously. Hands gently opened it again on the video, pushing what appeared to be a rubber sac suspended from straps to replace the tube. The straps were smoothed on one side, then the other. Then a spray nozzle appeared.

“This is the spray stuff. For that small an area, I can control it well enough to get a smooth finish.”

As Roger watched, his mouth was resealed, the gag and straps invisible under the rubber. Then the camera panned down from his head, inspecting the final product. It was then Roger realized that his penis had been pulled away from his body, coated separately to provide access. His eyes snapped to Amy’s with shock.

Amy grinned back, knowing what was running through his mind.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll leave that to Andrea to tend to, though it appears to be showing interest in anyone at the moment.”

Roger groaned, realizing that he was starting to come to attention as he awoke. Amy stepped back, hit a button at the vid-screen, and the image changed. Instead of the playback that had been running, he was now watching through the small camera Amy had pinned near her shoulder. She walked around him to give him the full view.

“You see, I think you and Andrea will go great together, and they do like for us spies to work in close teams.”

As she slowly walked, Roger took it in. He was attached to a pole that stood in the middle of Andrea’s bedroom. Wide, dark green ribbon encircled him at his ankles, knees, hips, elbows, and shoulders completed the Christmas coloration. A large bow of the same color was attached by his right ear. On his chest, a note was easily legible from across the room – “For Andrea – who’s been a very good girl to this very naughty boy.”

“And in case you forgot, I remember a somewhat drunken night with you where you actually said you’d love to get to know her better, but that you didn’t have the guts.”

Now behind him, Amy’s camera revealed that more of the rubber material held him to the pole. Though the material was thin enough to show him his muscle definition, it was strong enough to weld his body into place and hold him securely to the pole.

As Amy completed her circuit, she continued speaking. “So I decided to take the choice out of your hands as my present to you for Christmas. Hah. And Andrea, too, I suppose.”

Roger looked at Amy, his eyes showing the conflicting emotions inside. She smiled as she pointed to his formal uniform hanging from the closet door.

“If Andrea ever decides to let you out, you’re all set and ready for the dance. She’s out having drinks with Ken right now, who hasn’t a clue why I asked him to get her out of the way.”

The vid-screen clicked off and Amy removed the memory card from the slot.

“So you’ve no one to be angry with but me. Or yourself, for being such a dunce.”

Amy’s hand drifted down to his manhood and she grinned as she gave it a light stroke. Roger groaned at the contact.

“A shame nobody’s done this for me. Just seeing you like this is getting my juices going. But Andrea would never forgive me and then I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

Roger struggled mightily, uselessly as Amy turned and started walking towards the door.

“Don’t worry, hon. It shouldn’t be much more than an hour before Andrea heads back. I’ll even let her know I left my present for her in her room to hurry her along.”

As she reached the door, Amy turned slightly and looked over her shoulder. The grin on her face could only be described as impish, and Roger struggled to shake his head or somehow get free. Her grin widened as he did.

As she opened the door, still looking at him over her shoulder, she finished the thought and closed the door.

“At least, I’ll tell her eventually…”


Chapter 2 – A Dunce for a Present

The lighting in the room was just bright enough that Roger could make out the flashes that the green, shiny ribbon around his body made when he struggled as they flashed their reflections in the vid-screen. He’d little idea how long he’d been here, the clock inconveniently tucked away behind him somewhere, but he estimated it that at least one hour had passed. Despite his struggles and grunts, he’d completely failed to loosen the rubber-like prison that held him or attract anyone’s attention.

He noticed that it was becoming harder and harder to focus on his predicament or, more specifically, what he might do to get out of it. While watching Amy’s shapely form leave him, he’d suddenly had a flash of imagination and it was Andrea who had bound him thus. Her body was even more attractive than Amy’s, with larger, fuller breasts, and curves that could do little but cause a man to have a libidinous reaction.

And that image, of her coquettishly smiling at him as she left him to her mercy, had ignited the fantasies he’d harbored ever since they’d first met. He’d never thought it possible, hell, even probable, that Andrea could ever see him as more than the nerdy guy who could help her sort through advanced mathematics or computer programming. They’d traded help with judo for her skills with Aikido, despite the fact that every time he sparred with her he wanted to pin her to the mat and kiss those delicious lips.

So now his mind turned against him in his current predicament and imagined her walking through the door, seizing the moment, and taking full advantage of his situation. Even the momentary distraction of the comm-link ringing (Amy’s ID, no less) and the message waiting light going on had only distracted him momentarily. So his body betrayed his mind, which still thought there little or no chance that Andrea could possibly desire him, and let loose hormone after hormone, causing him to groan in frustration and rise in excitement.

Visions of Andrea entering, shedding her clothes to reveal that near-perfect body and commit what could otherwise be considered sexual assault continuously filled his head. He could do nothing to escape her advances, nothing to avoid her probing fingers and lips, which somehow still felt sensuous through his rubber prison. He could only obey as she dissolved the material around his mouth to have him service her breasts and other regions. And he loved every minute of it, particularly as she gagged him again to rest and wait until she was ready for another round. As he reveled in the imagery, some part of him cursed at the lunacy of it and warned that he would be disappointed. Andrea could never go for him – there were too many other contenders who would so obviously make a better match for her.

A sudden sound snapped him back from his fantasies and into the present – the lock on the door had been undone. The low click, the slight hum as the motors that set the bolts around the door did their work and retracted the locks, that noise was unmistakable, even if it was slightly muffled by the material around his ears. The “logical” side of his brain took over once again, and he struggled furiously, fruitlessly to find some weakness in his prison. His only reward was a series of flashing reflections from the vid-screen.

And then she was there. Andrea had already closed the door, not paying too much attention to her room as she walked in, and looked up in surprise at the scene that greeted her. Roger wished she were dressed more conservatively – the uniform that did much to hide the form of the wearer or her sweat suit for working out. But for her night out she’d selected a positively stunning outfit – a creamy silk blouse with folds in the fabric that hung on her perfectly, accentuating her bust while at the same time adding a sense of mystery as to what it might actually look like unclothed. A long black skirt offset the blouse beautifully, a sheen to it that suggested well made leather, with a slit that exposed just enough of her legs to suggest a proportion to them that men would leer at. And even in the dim light, Roger could make out the redness of her lips, standing out with the makeup she’d carefully applied.

Andrea stood stock still as she took in the view in front of her. Roger resisted the urge to struggle and shout. The latter would be humorous at best, the former would almost certainly do nothing but call further attention to his incredibly rigid manhood. After what felt like an hour, Andrea whistled quietly to herself, set her purse down on the small shelf by the door, and approached. Roger forced himself to be still, and hoped that his eyes didn’t betray exactly what he wished would happen too well.

“Well, I suppose this is Amy’s present, is it?”

Andrea stood in front of him, one eyebrow arched in question. It wasn’t until she’d done so for several seconds that Roger realized that she was actually expecting a response. As best he could, he nodded his head. Andrea seemed to smile a bit more broadly, and began walking around him, carefully examining every inch. Roger was surprised by this, having expected Andrea to take more interest in assisting this stranger bound in her room. However, he fought the urge to struggle or make noise as somehow being in appropriate to the moment.

At least he tried. He even succeeded until he felt a gentle touch, like a soft feather being dragged across his buttocks. He shuddered slightly, but managed to avoid noise or more fervent struggles. A soft chuckle came from behind him, followed by more contact. Despite being unable to see her, he knew immediately what she was doing – pressing her breasts up against him ever so gently.

And that’s when he lost it. He groaned, quite audibly, into the rubber sac that filled his mouth so effectively, and thrashed as best the rubber prison would allow him. He tried to both object and beg for more simultaneously, which perhaps surprised him. But in general, he made little more than a grunting racket. Again, his reaction elicited a chuckle, which then caused the contact with his body to end. With an effort of almost superhuman will, Roger managed to still himself and struggle to bring his breathing under control.

The sound of Andrea’s heels coincided with her appearing from view. She reached out and plucked the note off of his chest, smiling as she read it.

“A very naughty boy for me? Have you really been so naughty?”

Roger didn’t know whether it was the laugh in her silky voice or the glimmer in her eye, but something caused him to…nod! Almost before he completed on nod, though, his brain kicked back into control and he began to shake his head as marginally as his encasement would allow, again trying to speak through his most effective gag.

With a smile on her lips, Andrea reached a single finger out and held it to his. “Hush. You’ve little choice right now, so it’d be best to do nothing to get yourself in trouble either way, right?”

Again, Roger managed to still himself. With a wink, Andrea turned to her vid-screen and scrolled through the menu that appeared. “It appears I’ve a message, and I suspect it relates to you, right?”

The devilish look in her eye as she glanced back to his bound form past her heart-shaped buttocks might have made a different Roger cringe with self-doubt and embarrassment. But the bound Roger that had hung in her room awaiting her imminent return found himself nodding slowly. Andrea turned back to the screen and hit the “play” button.

“Andrea, it’s Amy. Hopefully, you haven’t called the goon squad or done something similarly stupid, though if I know you you’ve barely begun your ‘explorations’ for the evening. I’ve finally had enough of Roger being an idiot and left him all packaged up for you to finally get to be your man. Be nice enough to him and he may even forgive me. And if you ever cut him free, I’ve made sure he can be properly outfitted for the dance. Oh, and the solvent and some more of the fun stuff are tucked away in your closet. Make sure you get them both back to me by next week so they aren’t missed in the lab. See ya!”

When Andrea turned around, Roger could see the smile on her face seemed even broader than before. He fought the urge to try to speak again, to struggle more, and waited as she seemed to drink in his crimson rubber form highlighted with green ribbons.

“Roger, I don’t believe it. Sort of sad that one of the smartest guys on the station has to find out someone’s got the hots for him this way.” As she spoke, she began to slowly step from the desk towards him. Her hands drifted behind her back as she did so, and he could tell from the way her blouse began to move that she was undoing the buttons to her blouse.

“You really are dense, you know. I should have just thrown myself at you, but that somehow seemed improper. But compared to this…”

Her voice drifted off to nothing as she continued her slow advance, her hands continuing to work behind her back. Roger tried to find some way to hide his raging erection, but, not surprisingly, could not.

As her blouse dropped free of the last button and slowly came off, Andrea completed her advance on Roger. A demi-cup bra made of lace held her ample breasts firmly, creating a beautiful line of cleavage that caused Roger to groan as she pressed against him. She carelessly flung the blouse away with one hand, and began tracing a line gently down his chest with one finger on her other hand.

“Of course, I don’t want to get in any trouble, so I’ll ask this just once – do you want me to let you go right now? Or…” Roger’s concentration faltered and he groaned – her finger had finished drawing its line and had reached his aching manhood, which she gently grasped in her hand. “Or do you want me to keep you like this for a while and make both of our fantasies come true?”

Roger stared into her lovely, glittering brown eyes, desperately wishing he could kiss her, embrace her, take her right then and right there. His erection grew as she slowly began to stroke up and down and he stared deeply, lustily into her smiling, enticing, and thoroughly devilish visage.

“Should I let you go?”

The question was nearly a whisper, but despite his muffled hearing, Roger heard it clearly. And in a response that would have surprised him not an hour ago, he shook his head. In fact, he shook it as violently as he could to make sure that there could be no mistaking his response.

Andrea whole face seemed to flush with excitement and pleasure.

“Then we’d best get my present just a bit unwrapped so that I can use it more effectively. Welded to that pole, you’ll be damned near useless.”

As Roger watched Andrea stroll to her closet, loosing her skirt from her waist as she went, he swore two things – to thank Amy with all his heart for bringing the two of them together. Right before he stuffed her in her bondage machine with a heavy duty vibrator strategically placed…


Chapter 3 – Presents for All

The Christmas lights blinked in a random pattern, providing odd highlights and shadows in the low light within the room. The colors danced over the furniture and walls as the small bulbs blinked on and off, the hues playing across the surfaces in a way that suggested a hallucinogenic episode if the other seasonal decorations hadn’t demonstrated the pending holiday so clearly. Roger sighed as best he could, watching them blink on and off from his position near the center of the room.

He’d awoken after a somewhat odd night’s sleep to the touch of hands lifting and maneuvering him. The gag that had been in and out over the course of the night had been replaced before Andrea and he had finally gone to sleep, so all he could do to question the current activity was grunt in a questioning manner.

“Be still or I may drop you,” she said. “I’ve some things to take care of, and you’re not where you need to be.”

Roger stared at his former friend, now lover. She was naked and grinning, obviously full of plans for the day. Her face had a slight flush to it as though she were somewhat excited. The smile on her face combined with the twinkle in her eyes to make it obvious that she, indeed, had plans and that Roger somehow factored into them. Despite her command, he tried to stretch as best his rubbery covering permitted and whined as best his gagged allowed him to.

“I know, you’ve been like this for a while and want out. And I may let you out,” Andrea spoke as she maneuvered him back towards the pole that had held him anticipating her arrival last night. Already that seemed like a long time ago, so much had changed. “But first, I’ve my own plans for the day, and I can’t have you underfoot while I make them come to fruition. Do you need the bathroom again?”

Roger nearly laughed, remembering how odd the maneuvering to allow him to use the facilities had been over the course of their very long evening. Andrea seemed to catch on to the humor and laughed softly herself. In response, he shook his head, which happened just as his stomach growled quite loudly, reminding him that it had been over eighteen hours since he’d eaten. Andrea heard the noise as clearly as he felt it, and ducked her head to give him a kiss on his gagged mouth (giving him a fantastic view of her breasts).

“Yes, part of my plan is preventing you from starving.”

So he’d had little choice but to do what he could to help Andrea as she shifted him from the bed back to the pole Amy had installed. Two belts were used to temporarily hold him in position while she retrieved the spray applicator for the material that held him so snugly and securely and again secured him to the pole.

And so, Roger had stood, supported by the perfectly form-fitting rubber that still head him securely despite the time, struggles, and sweat of the past hours. He’d watched as Andrea had tidied the room (largely while still naked, which didn’t go unappreciated in any way), dressed casually to get some breakfast for the two of them, listened as she chatted with Ken about her plans for the break from classes and training that everyone was entering, and started decorating her room. While he’d wanted to speak when she removed his gag, she’d sternly instructed him that the breakfast she’d brought was conditioned on his silence. While he was tempted to test whether the stern resolve or laughter that her countenance had seemed to simultaneously reveal, his hunger made him think better of it. So he’d held his tongue when she removed the gag and fed him yogurt, fruit, juice, and coffee. His only break from the silence of eating was the occasional, passionate kiss that always seemed to break off too quickly and fail to lead to more exhausting endeavors.

And just as he’d reached the point of comfort, Andrea had stuffed the gag back into his mouth and resealed it. He moaned a plaintive moan as the sprayer had restored the smooth sheen of the rubber cocoon, which mad Andrea laugh and form (a delightfully cute) pout.

“Awwwww. Don’t worry honey. I’ve some preparations to make, some decorating to do, some e-mail to catch up on, and then we’ll see to you.”

At that, Roger had moaned louder and fought against his bonds. As expected, they held him as securely as before, but the statement was more important than freedom at this point.

He’d therefore had no choice but to watch Andrea live up to her promised activities. She cleaned the room, though it needed little work beyond basic straightening – Andrea was a bit of a neatnick. As she finished she glanced over at him and frowned slightly. Only his eyes could convey his confusion – there was little that he could do to displease her in his current state, but she chose to ignore the questioning grunt as she headed for her closet. When she returned with the spray applicator again, he groaned with a bit of an angry overtone and struggled.

“Now, now. Wear and tear has left some awful ugly smudges and smears. I just want to have you looking perfect and shiny, like last night.”

Despite himself, the feeling of the material being added to his encasement by his lovely captor caused him to start replaying scenes from the previous day in his head, and his erection had started to grow once again. Andrea noticed this as she touched up his encasement and grinned.

“Tsk, tsk. You men and your one-track minds. Later. You won’t want to miss what’s coming.”

With the glassy shine of his prison fully restored, Roger had watched as Andrea had broken out decorations for the season. As she put them up about her room, she explained that with exams there simply hadn’t been time before. She’d devilishly decided that he needed to be an integral part of her display, and wrapped two strands of lights about him, smiling as her fingers wandered around and found ways to restore the smudges and smears on particularly erogenous areas. Roger squirmed, begged, and moaned to no avail under her ministrations as Andrea whistled a carol and giggled to herself.

Her decorating complete, Andrea sat at her desk and began her promised review of e-mails. Roger couldn’t see the actual content, the screen blocked from view by her silky, if somewhat tousled, black hair. She sat for only a short while, alternatively reading and typing responses, and got up after about fifteen minutes.

With a “cat that caught the canary” grin on her face, she approached her captive, and leaned seductively against him.

“I need to go pick up some supplies, lover. Be a dear and keep an eye on things here for me, will you?”

And despite his groans, struggles, and plaintive looks, Andrea had sauntered to her door, exaggerating the sway of her hips for his consumption as she did. She paused only to tape a piece of paper to her door, then blew him a kiss as she closed the door and set the locks.

Roger could again only guess at the actual time that elapsed. At one point, he tried timing the flashes of the lights to get some feel for the number flashes per second and estimate the time more accurately. But the stimulation his occasional movements gave him from the shifting tension of his rubber covering, the curiosity as to what Andrea had planned when she returned, and the mind-numbing dullness of the exercise caused him to quickly lose both the count in his head and interest in maintaining the count.

The net result was that when he heard the sound of the locks releasing their hold on the door, he decided to do what he’d avoided doing last night. Rather than holding still to call minimal attention to his rampant excitement and expectation, he thrashed as much as his skin-tight prison would permit, knowing that the motion would only call attention to what he desired most. He closed his eyes as the door opened, focusing on his breathing to avoid hyperventilation and fainting, hoping that Andrea would take pity on his plight and bring her dastardly plans to fruition on an accelerated schedule.

It wasn’t until he heard the door close and Amy say, “Good lord! Has she kept you like that all this time?” that Roger realized it was not Andrea that had entered the room. His eyes snapped open in surprise, and he immediately stopped his futile straining against the rubber enclosing him. Amy looked both amused and worried as she turned up the lights and came closer. Roger could see her wondering if her plan had gone so seriously awry. Though she hardly deserved the reassurance, he decided to shake his head to indicate Andrea had, indeed, not done so. The relief on Amy’s face was apparent.

“Thank goodness. What a waste of time and effort that would have been on both our parts.” She held up the paper in her hand and continued, “I’ve been strictly instructed not to alter anything, so I can’t very well take out the gag. I guess we’ll have to play a bit of Twenty Questions.”

Amy sat and proceeded to ask Roger “yes or no” questions to satisfy her curiosity. Had Andrea responded positively to her gift (Roger nodded)? Had he enjoyed her response (again, a nod)? Had she let Roger turn the tables on her (a shake of the head)? Had she let him go at all (another shake)? Had she managed to take care of necessities like restrooms and food (a nod this time)? Was he mad at her?

When that question hit the air, Roger had to pause perceptibly to think. Amy looked concerned as he did, obviously worried that she’d crossed a line that friends shouldn’t cross. When he finally responded, Roger carefully alternated shaking his head with nodding. Amy looked slightly troubled by that answer and stood to approach him.

“I know the method was extreme Roger, but you didn’t make it very easy to do anything else.” She reached him and placed her arms on his shoulders. “Andrea damn near clubbed you over the head with it, I told you any number of times to go for it, and you managed to ignore us both. Throw in your holiday funk that made you completely oblivious and there wasn’t much else I could do other than watch both of you be miserable. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Roger was about to respond as best he could when the locks sounded again. Amy turned as the door opened, revealing Andrea returning with a laundry bag in her hand, obviously full of something. Andrea closed the door quickly as though there were traffic in the hallway, and then grinned at the new arrival.

“You weren’t playing with my present without permission, were you?”

Andrea’s voice had that marvelous laughing quality to it that she displayed when quite happy with something. Amy read nothing more into the tone than pleasure at Roger and his current state, but Roger read something else into it. Andrea had something else up her sleeve right now.

“You know I wouldn’t do that, Andrea. We were just talking, well; I was talking while we waited for you to come back. Roger was filling me in as best he could. How long have you had him like this?”

Andrea glanced at Roger’s mid-section and giggled as she said, “Apparently, long enough for him to wake up. Have you been here long?”

“Just a few minutes,” Amy replied, grinning as she embarrassed Roger by looking down herself. “When I got your e-mail to swing by, I was worried that he’d escaped and was luring me here to get revenge. Silly me.”

Amy walked back to the desk as she spoke. “It even looks like you’ve applied some more of the binding agent on him. Didn’t trust that I’d done a good job?”

Andrea laughed, putting the laundry bag down in front of her closet and bending to open it. “Hah! I know better than that. I just wanted the shine back. Making him more helpless was just bonus points.”

A bit angry at being objectified while present, Roger launched into a brief tirade, intent on sharing his frustration with the two young women and his current position. Punctuated with a few strong tugs against the unrelenting rubber that contained him, he rambled on for nearly a minute about how unfair it was that he was in this position, even if he was enjoying aspects of it. About how many other avenues had been open to bring he and Andrea together. About how horrible his revenge might be if, no, when, he finally got his freedom back.

Andrea and Amy stared at him in an odd combination of surprise and what appeared to be awe. Right up until the moment he stopped. Then the two burst out laughing, Amy literally doubling over in her chair, Andrea having difficulty standing straight. Roger glared at both of them and growled, which only redoubled Amy’s mirth, and apparently Andrea’s since she took a few halting steps towards the chair herself and reached out as though to steady herself.

“Ohhh, Roger,” said Amy as she sat up straight once again and wiped a tear away from her eye. “Do you have any idea how positively ridiculous…”

Roger jumped as much as the rubber and the pole would allow him to. Andrea continued to giggle, but Amy suddenly sat fully upright in the chair, her arms lifting as though she meant to raise them over her head, her feet sliding oddly forward. Then she suddenly slumped backwards, limp as a rag.

Andrea grinned wickedly and slid the contact stunner off of the hand she’d placed on Amy’s shoulder. She looked up at Roger as she did.

“I’m sure you’ll have worse in mind for her for later, but I’ll bet you enjoy this.”

Andrea paused to examine Amy and verify that her breathing and pulse were as normal as could be for someone who’d just been stunned. Everyone in the Academy had experienced the feeling, since they were common tools to incapacitate someone or disorient them for purposes of extracting information. Roger knew that Amy now sat fully conscious, but completely incapable of motion for at least a half an hour and probably a good while longer. She’d regain the capacity to speak sooner, which is why the device was so handy.

“You’ll be fine, sweet-cheeks,” Andrea said to her as she pat her gently on the head. “But I think you deserve a bit of punishment on behalf of Roger, and some for me since you basically involved me in a crime last night.”

Roger made a loud “Humph! Humph!” which could only be interpreted as agreement, and which caused Andrea to begin laughing again.

“You look like one very pissed off mummy, my dear.” She said. “But I’ll bet you calm down a bit.”

As she spoke, Andrea returned to the laundry bag to dump its contents on the floor. Obviously, she’d visited one of the training rooms and requisitioned a variety of things she’d felt she would need. Roger couldn’t make them all out through Amy, the chair, or Andrea, but he heard the unmistakable sound of jingling straps, buckles, and rings.

Andrea began by gagging Amy with an inflatable gag secured through a ring-gag. The ring went on first, holding her mouth slightly open, followed by the bulb, which was rapidly pumped up to the point where Roger could see her cheeks expand. She immediately followed with a padded leather blindfold, which she pulled tight and buckled under the pony tail that Amy had chosen for the day.

Once again whistling her carol to herself, Andrea began the somewhat problematic task of stripping Amy’s limp form, using the chair strategically to provide support for different areas of the body. Half way through, she glanced up at Roger, whose erection had now returned full-force and winked at him.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you’re enjoying this part.”

She couldn’t see the grin under his gag, but the muffled noises seemed to say “Oh, no, no, no.” She giggled and returned to her work.

Amy’s clothing removed, Andrea stuffed it into the disused laundry sack and returned with a mass of leather and straps. She sat Amy up as best she could, and Roger realized that she held a single-glove made out of red leather. She balanced Amy carefully on the seat of the chair, then pulled it snugly over her arms. Straps were tightened under the shoulders, over the wrists and elbows, and then checked and tightened some more. Roger couldn’t help but notice how the bondage made Amy’s chest protrude and highlight her breasts. Somehow, he’d failed to realize that she was also quite attractive in her own way over the two years they’d known each other.

Andrea continued whistling as she stood from the task of applying the arm binder. “Be right back, honey. Don’t go anywhere.” She headed out the door, ignoring his grunts, and returned in only a few moments with a rolling dolly that she must have hidden away somewhere near by.

She grinned after the door was closed and said, “Now for the tricky part.”

And Roger had to agree, the next part was tricky. Andrea wedged the wheels of the dolly so that it wouldn’t move with some dirty laundry, then had to try three separate times to get Amy into the position she wanted – kneeling on the dolly. She finally succeeded by using the chair to support her prey’s upper body and head while she maneuvered her legs into the position she wanted. Amy ended up balanced largely on her knees and breasts, with a Roger getting a wonderful view of her well-toned rear-end and the single-glove.

Andrea then lifted Amy’s lower right leg to touch her thigh, completing the balancing act on that knee. Two leather straps went around the leg to pin it in that position, each tightened to get the initial hold, then retightened to ensure that there was no slack. Amy threaded a large metal ring through the one closest to the foot so that it hung protruding on the inside of her legs.

The process was then repeated for the left leg, the rear strap again going through the ring that she had positioned. In the end, Andrea pushed Amy backwards until she was kneeling, the straps and ring making it impossible for her to shift her legs much in any way shape or form.

Andrea then chuckled as she held a lock up for Roger to see. As he watched, she attached it to the D-ring at the base of the single-glove under the hands, and locked it securely to the ring between her feet.

While the word didn’t really work, Roger thought Amy fairly hung from her bonds, slumped slightly over to her right. The position and particulars of the bondage seemed to provide just enough support to keep Amy from falling over. Andrea glanced at the clock and smiled.

“About fifteen minutes. I’ll give it another five and she’ll start to come around. I didn’t hit her with a particularly high level setting.”

She walked past Roger, pausing to briefly rub his member and kiss the side of his face. Roger squirmed, and groaned insistently, but Andrea just smiled and kept walking. Roger heard the sound of the mattress compressing slightly as she sat on the bed, then the sound of pages turning in a book. Apparently, Andrea was going to read as she waited for Amy to regain consciousness.

Roger tried to distract himself by imagining that he was the one that had done the tying and dreaming up further discomfort for Amy to endure. But while that passed the time, it did little to dampen his hormonal reaction to the situation he found himself in. After what he estimated to be about ten minutes, Amy lurched to her left and let out a soft moan into her gag. Behind him, Roger heard the book get set down and Andrea stand.

She ignored him this time, walking straight to Amy. Once there, she freed the wheels of the dolly and repositioned Amy so that she would have been looking at Roger if she hadn’t been effectively been blinded. Amy showed that she truly was conscious by grunting and struggling clumsily.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, and we aren’t done with you.” Andrea grinned at Roger as she said the words. Returning to her pile of toys, she came back with a number of items. “It’s a good thing they soundproof these rooms well, or someone might hear some of these.”

Roger watched as she reached out and slowly rolled Amy’s right nipple between her thumb and forefinger. It began to perk up and stand out slightly as she did, and Andrea smiled as she did.

“You left poor Roger here for who knows how long without anything to entertain him. I won’t be that mean.”

As she spoke, she slipped a rubber ring over the nipple, stretching it slightly to go on. It snapped back snugly, but not tightly. Roger was sure that while it wouldn’t fall off, it also wasn’t likely to inflict pain or cut off circulation. Hanging from the ring was a small, silver ball and attached to that was a bell of the kind you’d find on a sleigh team’s harness. Roger giggled at the site. Andrea glanced at him, grinned wickedly, then repeated the process on the left.

She then produced a long leather strap, which she threaded under the dolly and across Amy’s thighs. This was tightened, and then another strap produced that create a cross from front to back. This strap lay over the ring by Amy’s feet. When both were tightened, Amy couldn’t even fall off of the dolly if she had tried.

Amy groaned and seemed to complain, still sounding groggy, and Andrea paused to flick both of the bells. The hung away from Amy’s body and rang with a clear sound, but Andrea’s actions only caused Amy to struggle a bit more. This, of course, caused the bells to sway and chime, and pull against the base of her nipples. Amy grunted somewhat angrily, then held still. Andrea just giggled and reached for her next toy.

“Now if you’d left him something, anything to entertain himself, maybe I wouldn’t be so mean,” she said as she positioned a large vibrator so it just barely touched Amy’s nether regions. Roger wondered where that had come from, since he hadn’t seen anything like it in any of the training rooms or labs. However, he couldn’t ask and could only watch and grin to himself as Andrea produced the green ribbon Amy had used on him last night and began to affix the latest implement of torture in position.

When she was finally satisfied, Andrea stood, walked to her desk, and retrieved a pair of silver and green adhesive bows from one of the drawers. She placed these on each breast, careful not to cover the nipples or interfere with the movement of the weights that were attached. Amy, now apparently fully recovered and awake, let loose with her own brief tirade of grunts and humphs, and it was Roger’s turn to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Remembering his own position, he struggled briefly, then laughed some more.

When he looked up, Andrea stared at him with a twinkle in her eye, obviously satisfied with what had come to pass. Then she caressed Amy’s cheek (another groan) and walked towards Roger.

“Roger, I know you’ll eventually want your own revenge, but I thought you’d enjoy this. Amy’s going to be a present for Ken, at least for tonight. We’ll have to wait until the hall traffic dies down to give her to him, which probably won’t be for another few hours when lunch begins.”

Amy moaned and thrashed as best she could, but the straps, lock, and single-glove held her firmly in place. The dolly did slide a bit to one side, however.

Andrea toyed with Roger’s erection for a moment as Amy struggled, waiting until it subsided.

“I think she can wait in the closet until that time, don’t you? But to show I’m not so mean as she is,” Andrea held up a small box in her hands, “I’ve at least given her something to keep her mind off her predicament a bit.”

Andrea hit a button and Roger could both hear and see things come to life. The vibrator sprung into action, providing just enough stimulation to excite Amy without sufficient contact to bring her to a full orgasm. That, he’d expected. However, the silver balls on the nipple rings also appear to have been motorized, since they also began to dance. Amy’s breasts shook slightly and the bells chimed oddly as they were vibrated.

The sound of a deep intake of breath from Amy was just about music in Roger’s ears. Andrea had apparently positioned things perfectly, and Amy was in for some torment she could do little or nothing about.

Andrea was positively beaming as she put the control box on the dolly and wheeled Amy towards the closet.

“Best of all, Roger, the control box has a random setting so the toys will be going off and on without warning. How long do you think I should wait until I check the halls?”

Roger could hear Amy grunting in protest as Andrea positioned her in the closet, wedged the laundry around the wheels to prevent motion again, and then closed the door. As she returned he saw a rag and the bottle of solvent.

“And now to reward you for your patience with all of that…”

Roger smiled again, grunted his assent, and did his best to hold still as Andrea stepped behind him. “If everyone ends up getting presents along these lines,” he thought, “in a week, half the station won’t be able to move.”