Author's Note: Thanks as always to Bethany (handcuffgirl) for her edits and suggestions.


Michelle got up early to drive herself to the hospital for her scheduled test. She was going in for a newly developed MRI procedure that was hopefully going to shed some light on her condition. For almost a year, small patches of numbness had been forming on her skin, sometimes accompanied by tingling or minor pain. They could appear anywhere on her body, would last from five to ten days, then would simply disappear.

Her doctor had initially worried that it might be multiple sclerosis, but an MRI of her brain seemed to rule that out. Blood work ruled out other potentially serious conditions, and a CT scan ruled out still more. Michelle was only twenty-seven, didn't smoke or do drugs, and kept her lean body in excellent shape, so the cause wasn't likely to be related to poor health. The best recommendation seemed to be to just wait it out and see if the odd, recurring patches went away on their own.

Michelle had been happy to stop with all the procedures. She really didn't like getting poked and prodded, and the MRI machine made her claustrophobic. As time went on, however, the patches just kept appearing. The numbness and pain weren't all that bad on their own, but the unpredictability had started to get really annoying. She never knew when the next patch would show itself, where it would appear, or when it would go away.

After months of this, her doctor had finally suggested a new procedure, done with a higher power MRI, to fully examine the nervous system throughout her body. Michelle wasn't thrilled to go back into the loud, tight tube of the MRI machine, but figured she might as well give it a shot. And so she arrived for her early morning appointment, hoping that the test would proceed as scheduled because she really needed to be at work later in the day.

The MRI technician introduced herself as Amy and handed Michelle a hospital gown to change into. As usual, clothing and jewelry had to be removed because even small pieces of metal could damage the sensitive machine and potentially injure the test subject. The technician also explained that for this higher powered machine, even underwear needed to be removed. Impurities of any kind could cause problems, so the only clothing allowed was the specially designed fabric of the new gown, which had the slippery feel of some kind of plastic.

Stripped down in the small dressing room, Michelle wished that whoever made these hospital gowns could have redesigned the style while they were redesigning the fabric. If anything, the one she put on was worse than usual. It closed in back with mostly inadequate velcro strips. It was sleeveless and had such big arm holes that raising an elbow too far could easily expose a boob.

The feel of the slippery plastic fabric on her nipples was enough to quickly turn them hard. The thinness of the fabric did nothing to disguise those hard nipples, and the fact that she wasn't allowed to wear a bra meant that her ample breasts would bounce and sway as she moved, creating even more friction against her excitable nipps.

Michelle's last complaint with her sole item of clothing was its length. She was tall, at five-foot-eleven, so hospital gowns always seemed to be too short. This one was especially ridiculous, with only the bottom inch or two of fabric keeping it from being obscene, and any motion threatening to expose her nether region. The only consolation was that the technician was a woman. At least it wouldn't be some man staring at the long expanse of leg she was showing off.

"Hop up on the table, lay on your back, feet towards the machine," Amy instructed when Michelle entered the MRI room.

Michelle was glad that the technician was getting right to business. She looked to be in her early twenties, cute and blonde, and Michelle had worried that she might be chatty.

"Okay," Amy continued when Michelle had gotten herself into place, "I see that you've had MRIs before, but this one is going to be a little different. We're looking for very small anomalies in the nerves in your skin throughout your body. I'll scan your whole body once without contrast, then I'll inject a small amount of a dye into your arm and scan you again. The dye will provide contrast, and when we compare the two sets of images we'll hopefully be able to figure out what's going on. The trick is that because this machine has such a high resolution, you'll have to hold still even more than usual. We also need you to be in the exact same position for the two sets of scans, so I'll be adding a number of guide bars that will help you maintain the position."

"No problem, I understand," Michelle said cooperatively, just wanting to get on with the test. Some positioning guides had been part of her previous MRIs anyway.

The hard plastic table that Michelle was laying on was covered by a grid of small holes, spaced no more than a half-inch apart. The technician used those holes to secure the guide bars. First, stiff posts clicked into place on either side of Michelle's belly. Amy chose holes that left the posts pressing firmly into her sides. A wide, stiff plate was then pushed down over the posts. Michelle heard a clicking sound as the plate slid down the posts, indicating that it was ratcheting into place. Amy pushed the plate down until it was pressed firmly into Michelle's stomach.

Another set of posts went into the table up near Michelle's armpits. The plate that ratcheted down over those posts pushed firmly against her chest, just above her breasts. Yet another set of posts was secured near the middle of her torso, holding a plate down just beneath her breasts. The pressure from the three plates was not terribly uncomfortable, though it was certainly restrictive. Michelle found herself unable to take deep breaths, and certainly could not slide around in any direction.

Possibly the most annoying part about the plates was the way they stretched the fabric of her hospital gown against her breasts. Looking down at herself, Michelle saw that her boobs were being slightly flattened by the way the gown was being pulled, and that her hard nipples were even more conspicuous. She was again glad that the technician was a woman.

As Amy turned to get yet more guide bars, Michelle reached up to check out the combination of posts and plates that was holding her torso down. She found that a button on top of the posts disengaged the ratcheting mechanism, allowing the plate to easily slide upwards. She was glad that the release was so simple, and that she would be able to do it herself. The idea of being trapped down on the table was not very appealing, and anyway, she wanted to loosen the plate over her stomach a bit.

"Oops," Amy said when she noticed what Michelle was doing. "We actually need those to be fairly tight. If you breathe too deeply during the MRI, it could distort the image. I know it's a little annoying, but bear with me."

Michelle moved her arms and allowed the tech to push the stomach plate back down. It felt like it went one click further down than it had before, but she decided not to complain. She could still breathe fine, and didn't want to slow things down.

Working quickly, Amy spread Michelle's feet out to the sides of the table, then inserted posts on either side of each ankle, either side of each leg just below and above her knees, and then either side of each upper thigh. The feel of the technician's hands on her bare thighs tickled a bit, but Michelle did her best to keep herself still.

Amy ratcheted a plate down over each set of posts, holding Michelle's legs very firmly in place. The technician then inserted vertical plates into the table just below her feet, forcing them to maintain a ninety-degree angle. A plastic piece was fit over the top of each foot, clicking into the plate beneath it and holding her feet and toes firmly against the plate.

The technician proceeded to tighten down a dozen different small plates that were part of this foot contraption, ensuring that each toe was slightly separated and firmly held in place. When Amy was done, Michelle found that she literally couldn't even wiggle her toes. It was a bit unnerving, but she had to be impressed with the thoroughness.

"Place your arms flat on the table," Amy instructed her, "slightly out from your body, palms up."

Michelle shouldn't have been surprised that her arms would receive the same treatment as her legs, though somehow she had not been expecting to become completely trapped. As the posts and plates were tightened down over her upper arms, above her elbows, below her elbows, and then over her wrists, however, she realized that she was losing her ability to reach the buttons on the tops of the posts.

When Amy turned to get yet more equipment, Michelle bent her hand up and stretched her fingers in an attempt to reach the top of the posts around her right wrist. She felt relieved that she was just barely able to tap the button, then she quickly laid her hand back down on the table to avoid another scolding from the technician.

The next piece of equipment should also not have come as a surprise. Just as plastic pieces had been placed over her feet and toes, it only made sense that similar pieces would go over her hands and fingers. Somehow, having just confirmed her ability to free herself, Michelle felt surprised and flustered to be losing that ability so completely.

The plastic pieces that fit over her hands clicked down into holes in the table. Surely they could be released with a simple button press, just like everything else, but Michelle would not be the one pressing those buttons. Similar to the foot plates, the hand plates had a dozen little adjustable pieces that were ratcheted down over her palms and then in three places over each finger. Her fingers and thumbs were left slightly spread, completely pinned down, and utterly useless.

Michelle realized that she had never before been in a situation where she had been actually and truly stuck; where she couldn't get out on her own accord if she really needed to. She felt instinctively worried about this. If anything went wrong, she had no ability to help herself. She was stuck right where she was until someone else released her. That put full control of her trapped body in the hands of the cute young technician who was running the test. For some reason, this thought sent a somewhat erotic shiver through her body. Saying another silent thanks that the technician was not a man, Michelle worked to calm herself down.

Since she was already completely trapped, Michelle was surprised that the there were yet more restraints to come. Of course, her head was still free to move around, and the thorough technician wasn't missing any details.

"Lift your head a little for me," Amy instructed as she slid a curved plastic piece underneath the back of Michelle's neck.

As Michelle rested her head back down on the table she noted that the piece underneath her neck was quite thin and did not prevent the back of her head from reaching the table. It was curved to cup her neck, and was actually quite comfortable. The plastic piece that fit on top of it, however, was far too distressing to be considered comfortable. It was also curved to fit her neck, and like all the other guide bars it was ratcheted down until it fit snugly around the trapped woman's throat. While it did not actually impede breathing or swallowing, Michelle could not avoid the feeling that she had just been tightly collared, and of course she knew that the removal of that collar was outside her personal control. The feeling sent shivers down her body.

Amy just kept working while Michelle's attention was focused on the plastic encircling her neck. Posts went into the table on either side of her temples and a curved plastic plate was ratcheted down over her forehead. Even more than the collar, this prevented any motion of her head from side-to-side or up and down.

"This final part is usually the one that people like the least," Amy said as she inserted posts into the table on either side of Michelle's mouth. "But it really is one of the most important for this test, so hang in there, we're almost done. Open wide please."

Michelle really didn't like the idea of having her mouth restrained in any way, but it seemed silly to argue over this one detail especially since the technician had already said it was important. Anyway, the sooner the test starter the sooner she would be released, so she went ahead and complied.

The restrained woman didn't get a great look at the plastic contraption that slid over the posts and down into her mouth, but it certainly felt big. The technician made an adjustment, and Michelle felt her upper jaw get cupped by a piece of the plastic and pushed upwards. A similar piece then cupped her lower jaw and held her mouth open. Some kind of hook even reached out and went around her chin, so that her mouth could neither be closed nor opened any further.

"Last bit," Amy announced. "I need you to push your tongue through the slot that you can feel in the middle of your mouth. It's not fun, but the tongue is one of the hardest things to keep still on your own, and it also contains a ton of nerves, so this is really important."

The thought of having her tongue restrained was quite unappealing, but the tech had made a good point. Michelle couldn't even debate at that moment with all the plastic already in her mouth, so she just went ahead and did as she was told.

Her tongue slipped in between two flat plates that seemed to be ribbed. When she had pushed her tongue in as far as she felt it needed to go, Michelle heard a clicking sound as she felt Amy squeeze the plates together, pinching her tongue between them. She then felt Amy pull both plates upwards, tugging her tongue further out. The trapped woman instinctively tried to yank her tongue back down, but found that the ribs on the plate were both stiff and angled. They had allowed her tongue to slide one way past them, but would not allow it to slide back the other way.

"Aaaah," Michelle grunted in displeasure, generating about the only sound she was still capable of making.

"I know, honey, I know," Amy said, patting her patient on the cheek in a gesture that was probably supposed to be comforting but really just felt condescending. "Now, please take a deep breath for me."

Michelle figured this was just a tactic to get her to calm down, which she didn't think she actually needed. Unfortunately, she had no way of communicating that thought to the tech, which itself was quite frustrating. Even in a dentist's office with dental equipment in her mouth, she would be able to make semi-intelligible sounds, or at least spit out whatever was in her mouth if she really needed to. In her current state, she could form no words whatsoever and had no chance of removing the equipment on her own.

This loss of any ability to communicate increased Michelle's feeling of helplessness exponentially, and sent another one of those unexpected erotic shivers through her body. She really didn't want to make a big deal over it, so to avoid any more problems she just went ahead and followed the instruction to breathe in deeply. At least, she breathed in as much as her restraints would allow.

"Okay," Amy said, "that's a little too much movement, so I'm going to have to tighten your chest and belly plates a little bit more."

Michelle couldn't help but grunt again as the technician pushed down firmly on the plates above and below her breasts and on the plate over her stomach. Each click seemed to squeeze a little more air out of her lungs, and made her restraint that much more restrictive. She was left with the ability to breathe, but only in relatively shallow breathes. The grunts earned her another pat on the cheek, and a cheery-sounding congratulations for getting all the guide bars in place.

"Last thing before we start the test," Amy said, "is to get your arm ready to go so I can quickly inject the dye after the first set of scans. This small plastic hub will stay in your arm so that the injection of the dye will be really quick."

Once the needle was in place, the technician continued her one way conversation with the muted woman. "Now, I'm heading to the control room. You won't be able to see me, but you'll be able to hear my voice over the speakers inside the machine. One more thing - even with all the guide bars, you need to be an active participant in remaining still. If you flex or wiggle too much, you could distort the images. If that happens too often, I'll have to inject you with an immobilizer drug, but I don't want to have to do that because then you'll need a few hours of recovery. So be a good girl in there and hold still."

The technician had gently tapped Michelle's arm as she was dropping the threat of using an immobilizer drug on her. This made the already helpless woman feel even more out of control. Apparently, at the technician's discretion, a drug could be administered that would put her out of commission for most of the rest of the day. Sure, she could probably scream her head off to prevent it, but then the test would likely be cancelled, and if she wanted to try again later would probably be charged a small fortune. Her insurance company would almost certainly not pay for this expensive test twice.

Michelle was left alone with her thoughts of helplessness as the table she was strapped to began slowly rolling her into the donut hole of the MRI machine. She appreciated that she was positioned to enter the machine's tube feet first. The table didn't stop until her whole body was inside the tight space, but at least her head was closest to the opening.

MRIs always felt claustrophobic, and that feeling was amplified by her state of restraint. In previous visits to machines like this, she had mentally consoled herself with the fact that she could always scramble out on her own if she needed to. This time, that definitely wasn't the case. She would have liked to take deep breaths to try calming herself down, but even that wasn't possible. All she could do was close her eyes and hope that the test would go quickly, though she knew the double full-body scan could take an hour or more.

"Okay," Amy's voice said over the MRI's internal speakers, "the first scan will be of your head. It should take about seven minutes. Remember to hold still."

A cacophony of bangs and rattles started up all around Michelle's head. She never understood why these dumb machines had to be so loud. At least this wasn't her first time, so she wasn't surprised by the noise. During her first MRI, she remembered thinking that something terribly wrong must have been going on, given the crazy racket that the machine was making. She also remembered that during her other MRIs, the technicians had given her a little button to press to alert them just in case anything went wrong. It was upsetting that this time, when her state of helplessness would have made a call button the most reassuring, she hadn't been given one. Of course, given that she couldn't even move a finger, she wouldn't have been able to press a button anyway.

"The next scan will be of your throat," Amy's voice announced when the first scan was over. "Try not to swallow for the next five minutes."

Michelle wished that the technician hadn't even said that. The hardest thing about not swallowing is that thinking about swallowing almost inevitably causes you to swallow, whether you are trying to or not. Sure enough, a couple minutes into the test, she lost her concentration and let a small, involuntary swallow slip by. Immediately an electronic beep beep sounded inside the machine. The banging sounds of the scan were replaced by the technician's voice.

"I asked you not to swallow," Amy scolded. "We'll have to start the throat scan over."

As the second take of the throat scan started up, Michelle tried even harder to not to let her tongue muscles get the better of her. It felt ridiculous that even with her tongue pinched between the plates and held firmly upwards, and even with the stiff plastic firmly encircling her throat, she still had to worry so much about keeping everything still. Of course, she was glad that there wasn't any contraption placed down her throat to physically prevent that kind of movement.

The banging sounds continued for what Michelle was sure should have been at least five minutes. Her sense of time was surely skewed by the fact that she was fully restrained, effectively gagged, and lying inside a very loud machine. The more she thought that the throat scan was about to end, the harder it became to hold back the swallow that just begged to slip by. Finally, against her will, it did.

Beep beep. The simple electronic sound announced that her failure had not gone undetected.

"Bad girl," Amy's voice scolded.

Michelle knew that the technician meant this in a joking sort of way. However, given that the woman had such complete control over her body, it was hard not to feel like a naughty child being chastised.

"Now," Amy continued, "we can't afford to waste too much more time on this machine. I'll give you one more shot at keeping still on your own, otherwise we might have to go the drug route."

That really drove the point home that Amy was the boss and Michelle was the disobedient subordinate who was being allowed just one last chance. Given the alternatives, Michelle really wanted to make that last chance work out. She swallowed twice quickly before the scan started to get it out of her system, then resolved not to let her body get the better of her again.

"Great job! Good girl! Gold star for you!" Amy gushed over the speaker when the throat scan finally finished successfully.

Michelle let out the little breath that she had been holding. She was thrilled to have finished the scan without swallowing, but also increasingly embarrassed by the way Amy was talking to her. Sure, the technician was just trying to keep things light, but Michelle's mind was unwittingly reacting to the tone and the helplessness in an increasingly bizarre way. She no longer felt like a professional woman undergoing a medical procedure. Instead, she was a badly behaved girl being tested and threatened with punishment by a sexy, domineering nurse. This realization brought a flush to Michelle's face and sent tingles all over her body.

"On to your chest next," the boss stated, reminding Michelle that the test was far from over.

This next scan proceeded much more smoothly than the throat scan. Involuntary swallows were not an issue, and apparently the chest restraints were tight enough that even the deepest breath possible would not throw things off.

Knowing that her chest was being examined so closely, Michelle could not help but peer down her nose towards that part of her body. Her hard nipples were just as conspicuous as they were before. The tingling sensations certainly hadn't softened them, and knowing that they were the focus of the current scan sure didn't help. That meant that they would be thoroughly recorded in their current erect state, to be viewed that way by whatever doctor or doctors would be getting the results. The embarrassment caused by this thought did nothing to aid Michelle's mental attempts to calm her buds down.

Part way through the chest scan, Michelle felt the table underneath her shake slightly. It didn't seem like much, but apparently was enough to cause a beep beep from the MRI machine.

"Hey, settle down in there!" Amy said from the control room.

Michelle knew she hadn't been the cause of the shaking, but of course had no way to defend herself. It was rather disconcerting that something had happened within the machine that the technician wasn't aware of. If the MRI was malfunctioning, then Michelle certainly did not want to remain trapped and helpless inside.

"Oh, wait a minute, that wasn't you," Amy said. "It looks like we just experienced a small earthquake. No worries, we'll just restart the chest scan. Keep up the good work."

The fact that the MRI wasn't malfunctioning came as no relief to the woman who just learned that the shaking she'd felt had actually been an earthquake. Michelle had always harbored a healthy fear of seismic activity. There was just something terrifying about solid ground deciding to suddenly move around. In her mind, there was no good place to be during an earthquake except very far away. If she had to be nearby, though, being strapped to a table inside a confined space would definitely not be her first choice.

Michelle's breathing quickened and she considered trying to call out to the technician in an attempt to end the test. Getting noticed would not be easy. She would really have to scream just to be heard over the din of the MRI, and even then she didn't know if the sound would make it to the control room. Shaking around should do the trick, but with the tightness of the restraints she would have to really tug violently to even be noticed. There was, of course, also the problem of cancelling the test partway through, and what that would mean for insurance coverage if she wanted to repeat the test later.

The frightened woman decided to continue with the test and struggled to calm herself down. Realistically, the small earthquake shouldn't be that big of a concern. Clearly the technician wasn't worried about it, so Michelle told herself that she should try not to worry either.

By the end of the chest scan, Michelle was quite proud of the tentatively calm state that she had achieved. It sure wasn't easy with all the loud banging inside the MRI, but she was starting to feel that she might actually make it through. The technician announced that a scan of the lower torso was next, and the test subject didn't even consider using the momentary pause in the MRI din to try to call the test off. Part way through the next scan, however, Michelle's tentative calm was shattered by an announcement that was made over the hospital's speaker system.

"Attention all staff," said an urgent voice that Michelle could hear over the speaker inside the MRI. "We are about to receive a large number of patients from a building that was damaged by the earthquake. All staff who are not currently involved in urgent-care work are to report immediately to the ER triage room."

If the earthquake had been so bad somewhere nearby that a flood of victims was coming to the hospital, then Michelle definitely wanted out from her MRI. She heard the technician's voice come onto the speakers, and assumed that the test was being cancelled.

"So, umm..." Amy said tentatively, "I've never actually heard that message before. I'm not sure if they need me to report down there or not. I'd better go check. But don't worry, the test will continue automatically while I'm gone, and if I need to come back and cancel it, I'm sure we'll be able to get you rescheduled quickly given the circumstances."

Michelle lay there in shock for a moment. Did the tech really think the top concern was wasting time? She needed to get out! Laying there in shock, of course, was not going to release the restraints, so she quickly pulled herself together and began to scream. Even to her own ear, the ridiculous sounds she was able to make past the tongue and mouth restraint were barely audible over the clanging of the MRI. She shook around to make sure that her message would get through to the technician even if she couldn't be heard.

After ten seconds of screaming and shaking, Michelle paused to listen for the technician's reply or her entrance into the MRI room. All she heard was the beep beep sound from the machine that indicated too much movement had been registered. Had her screaming and shaking not been dramatic enough to get the technician's attention? Or had Amy already left before Michelle had even started?

The trapped woman had no way to get answers to these questions, or even to ask them. All she knew was that she was still firmly bound inside the machine, and she wanted out. She launched herself into another round of screaming and shaking, making as much noise and movement as her restraints would allow.

Beep beep. Again, the only response was the simple electronic beeping that indicated that the lower torso scan would have to start over. Michelle paused to catch a breath, still assuming that at any second her wish for release would be heeded. After three more cycles of screaming, shaking, and beeping, however, the realization that she was actually on her own began to sink in. As it did, the restraints over her chest and stomach began to feel tighter, crushing her into the table and not allowing her to breathe.

The panicky woman tried to calm herself down by rationalizing that she was really in the same situation as before. Nothing had changed. The restraints were all in the same position, no tighter or more restrictive than when she had started. Of course, no amount of rationalizing would convince her that nothing had changed, because it simply wasn't true. Before, if she had really needed to get out, she was sure a good scream would have brought release. Alone, however, she was stuck down with absolutely no recourse.

Michelle wondered if she might be able to break one of the restraints or pop one of the posts out from the holes in the table. She started with her legs, figuring they were one of the strongest parts of her body. Flexing and straining with all her might, however, did not produce so much as a squeak or a bend from the hard plastic that held her down. With four sets of restraints holding each leg down, she couldn't find any leverage to begin to lift or bend her legs.

Straining her arm muscles, she found the restraints around her wrists, elbows, and upper arms to be just as unbreakable. The plates over her hands wouldn't budge when she flexed her wrists, and not a single one of her fingers could find a millimeter of give in the plates that held them down. She next tried to thrash her body around, hoping to bend or break one of the restraints over her chest or neck. All she received for her efforts was the beep beep from the machine that indicated her torso scan was being re-started yet again.

Finding no luck with the body restraints, Michelle tried to break free of her mouth restraint, hoping to at least gain a slightly better ability to scream. Even there she had absolutely no luck. Clenching her jaw as tightly as she could did not budge the plastic pieces that held her mouth open wide, and tugging her tongue inwards did not release the grip of the ridged plates.

Having yanked every one of the restraints to the best of her ability, Michelle finally had to admit that there was, in fact, absolutely no way to break herself free. She was stuck right where she was until the technician returned to get her. That thought sent another round of tingles throughout her body, causing her to shake enough to set off another beep beep from the damned machine.

Michelle decided that since she truly had no other options, she might as well try to keep still so that the scan could proceed. She would demand to be set free as soon as the technician came back, but in the meantime there was no harm in getting part of the testing done with.

Time dragged for the trapped woman who continued to struggle with the panic and other feelings that kept invading her brain. After what seemed like an eternity, the clanging from the MRI paused, most likely indicating that the lower torso scan had finally finished. A moment later the noises started up again as the next scan began.

Michelle was glad that she was making progress, but started to wonder what was taking the tech so long to return. Amy had said she would either come back to complete the test, or come back to end the test if she was needed in the ER. Either way, she should have come back fairly quickly. Michelle started wondering if something had caused a delay, and she had to work to calm herself down all over again.

Her fragile calm was shattered by a massive shaking. Unlike the minor tremor she had felt before, this time the table beneath her began slamming up and down. The clanging of the MRI machine was drowned out by even louder crashing noises. This was by far the biggest earthquake Michelle had ever experienced. She wanted to flee, to get out of the building, to do something, anything, to protect herself. Instead, she remained flat on her back, pinned to the table and trapped within the tube of the MRI.

Even after the shaking finally stopped, Michelle lay with her eyes squeezed firmly closed until she began to get her breathing back under control. Finally opening her eyes, she was greeted by a large dent to the inside of the MRI tube, just above her head. That got her breathing going again, and looking around more didn't help. Peering down her nose she could see other dents and some pieces of the interior wall that had broken off and were hanging down. Looking up as best she could, she saw that another piece of the machine had broken off and was partially blocking the entrance. That one especially did not help her state-of-mind.

"Your attention please, this is a hospital-wide announcement," came the urgent voice over the loudspeakers. "The hospital building has been damaged by the aftershock. All staff and patients are to evacuate the building immediately. Only patients on critical, non-movable life support equipment are to remain, along with the minimum number of caregivers necessary to assist them. I repeat, all other staff and patients are to evacuate. This is not a drill."

For a moment, Michelle found some relief in the message. Her brain must have assumed that the evacuation order would cause all of her restraints to pop open, and allow her to run out of the building with everyone else. Of course, that wasn't the case. The restraints weren't tied in to some central control system. They were much simpler than that - all that was needed was to press down on the little button at the top of each post. Michelle, however, would not be the one pushing those buttons. She needed someone else to do that for her. Surely, though, Amy would come rushing back to free her any second, right?

The first few seconds passed and Michelle heard no doors flying open to admit the technician. What she did hear was the resumption of the clanging noises that indicated that the MRI scan was restarting. This did not make her happy one bit. The machine was obviously damaged, and even if it wasn't physically hurting her right then, who knew what kind of radiation the broken equipment might be sending through her body. She struggled in her restraints again, only to confirm that none of them had been damaged during the quake and were all still doing their job of holding her firmly in place on the table.

Beep beep. Apparently the motion sensing equipment of the machine hadn't been damaged either. Michelle certainly no longer cared about making progress with the test. She knew Amy would come free her at any moment, and in the meantime she intended to go on struggling in the hopes of freeing herself a moment or two sooner.

As those moments dragged by, however, the trapped woman was forced to start wondering if the technician might not return at all. Perhaps she had been hurt during the quake? Perhaps she had forgotten all about her test subject in the panic of the evacuation? Perhaps there was something blocking the path back to the MRI room?

From her perch within the machine, Michelle had no way of getting answers to any of her questions. All she could do was hope that someone would come for her soon. In the meantime, she decided that it was in her best interest to stop shaking and cooperate with the machine. If she was getting blasted with harmful radiation, then she wanted the testing to end as soon as possible, and that meant holding still.

The scanning went on and on, pausing only periodically between different parts of her body. It took all of Michelle's willpower to not struggle with her bonds. Even then she slipped up whenever the machine made some new and unpleasant sound that she was sure meant a new type of harmful radiation was penetrating her body. Then the machine would beep and start the scan over, and she would curse her own lack of control.

As the test dragged on, and it became more and more obvious that no one was coming for her, Michelle realized that she had started thinking about the MRI machine differently. Where before her mind had unwittingly begun visualizing the technician as some kind of dominatrix, now it was the machine itself that had become her master. It was the machine that held her so firmly in its grasp, and the machine that was monitoring her every movement and punishing her every mistake.

Logically, she knew that there was no deliberation or menace behind the machine's actions. It was following a simple sequence of code, proceeding from one scan to the next and restarting whenever it sensed too much movement. But logic could not banish the idea that she was a naughty girl being tested and punished by a machine master that had complete control over her body.

Her master was certainly ornery, making loud noises all around her as it carefully inspected and recorded every inch of her body. The master was also incredibly demanding, punishing every disobedient flinch by adding more time to her ordeal. She knew she had to submit to her master and hold still if she ever wanted the ordeal to end. Even though she knew these thoughts were ridiculous, she couldn't help but feel like a slave to the machine that she was trying so hard to please.

Beep beep beep. After an indeterminable amount of time, the machine made a new, triple beeping noise. Michelle knew she hadn't moved, so hoped that this meant the testing was finally over. She felt the table move beneath her, and realized that the end of the first series of tests meant that she would be rolled out of the machine so that the technician could inject her with the contrast dye.

Suddenly she remembered the piece of broken plastic that was partially blocking the entrance to the machine. She looked up and saw it hanging down, in a position that put it right on her path. Squirming out of the way, unfortunately, was not an option. All she could do was watch as her head drew nearer to the sharp-looking tip of the broken piece, and wonder if it would cut her face as she rolled by.

Through squinted eyes, Michelle watched as the plastic piece passed just a tiny fraction of an inch above her right eye and just barely dodged her nose. She let out a breath as the plastic piece cleared her head all together with no damage done. A moment later, however, she felt something tug on her hospital gown. Glancing down her nose, she saw that the sharp end of the plastic piece had snagged the gown right between her tits.

As the table continued to roll Michelle out of the machine, the plastic held firmly onto her gown. The slippery fabric of the gown allowed it to be yanked out from beneath the upper chest restraint, baring her boobs. She expected the gown to then rip as she continued to slide out, but apparently the new fabric was designed not to tear. She felt a firm yank against her lower chest restraint, and hoped for a minute that it might be enough to pull the restraint loose.

Instead, the slipperiness of the fabric allowed it to slide out from underneath her body and underneath restraints over her belly and lower-chest. As the table continued to roll out, the gown was held firmly in place, stripping it off the woman inch by inch. By the time Michelle was rolled all the way out of the machine, she had been rendered completely naked.

Somehow, Michelle had thought that once she was a good girl and held still for long enough, then the test and her ordeal would be over. While the scanning might have ended, however, her ordeal was clearly not done. She was still thoroughly restrained to the table, and now she was naked as well as helpless. She had been forgotten, left alone in an evacuated hospital, and had no idea how much longer she would be laying there. Just in case there was anyone around she let out a couple feeble screams, but it was hard to put much effort into them with so little chance that anyone would hear.

Without any warning, another aftershock hit the hospital. Michelle was again shaken around on her table, and again had no way to protect herself or flee. As before, she could only jam her eyes shut and pray for the best. Though the flimsy hospital gown had not been providing any actual protection, she felt even more vulnerable now that she was laying there naked, with all of her exposed skin susceptible to whatever might happen to fall on her.

When the shaking stopped, she looked around and saw new cracks in the walls and ceiling of her room, as well as a new crack or two in the MRI machine. As she watched, one of the cracks in the machine got even larger, and all of a sudden a stream of liquid squirted out. She saw the liquid coming towards her with plenty of time to dodge, but of course had no means of doing so.

The first squirt of liquid landed on her legs. A second squirt shot out with a little more force and sprayed her crotch and stomach, then a third squirt came out even harder and made it to her chest and tits. The liquid was warm, though not too hot. Michelle couldn't avoid the feeling that her machine master, who had just spit her out and stripped her naked, was now pissing on her helpless body. Ever the obedient slave, she just lay there and took it.

As she watched, another squirt came out with a bit more force than the last. She knew it was coming for her face, but her collar and head restraints meant that she couldn't move her face out of the way any more than she could have dodged with the rest of her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, but she could do nothing to close her mouth. The liquid hit her square in the face, largely filling the orifice that was being held wide open to receive it.

Immediately, Michelle coughed to try to expel the liquid from her mouth. Unfortunately, with the tight restraints on her chest and belly, she couldn't get a big enough breath in to cough the liquid out. Very quickly, the amount of air she could get in through her nose started to feel insufficient. In a panic, she went and swallowed all the liquid so that she could begin to breathe through her mouth again.

Once she calmed down a bit, she had time to think about what had just happened. In addition to being warm, the liquid had tasted somewhat salty. Michelle was forced to revise her mental description of the liquid. Her machine master had not been pissing on her. After fucking her over, it had spit her out, stripped her naked, and had shot its cum all over her body. That final squirt was a glory shot to her face and into her mouth, and no, her master would not accept spitting. An obedient slave always swallows.

As the humbled woman lay there thinking about everything that had happened to her, the hospital loudspeakers crackled with a new announcement.

"Attention all remaining patients and staff," the voice said, we have just been informed that opportunistic thieves have entered the building. The police have been called, but with more urgent matters in other parts of the city, their reaction time may be very delayed. Remaining personnel are to lock themselves in the rooms with their patients. Do not confront the thieves under any circumstances. They may be armed and are to be considered dangerous."

Michelle hadn't thought that her situation could possibly get any worse, and yet it had. She was completely naked and strapped firmly down to a table in a room that surely had not been locked. It didn't matter if those thieves were armed or not. If they came by, they could just walk right into the room and do whatever they wanted with her, and she literally would not be able to lift a finger to stop them!

She tried to tell herself to think optimistic thoughts - that it was a big hospital and that the thieves would not be targeting the MRI room. That line of reasoning didn't stop her mind from picturing a pair of big brutes bursting through her door and finding her laying there, naked, helpless, and alone. Michelle knew she had a sexy body. She also knew that the type of men who were willing to steal from a hospital in the midst of a city-wide catastrophe would be unlikely to worry about adding a little rape to the list of their crimes.

Unbidden, pictures of the two imagined brutes entered her head. They would stand on either side of her, running their big dirty hands all over her displayed body. They would surely pinch and twist the two erect nipples that still refused to calm down. Then, while one still had her tits in his hands, the other would mount her and slide his big dick all the way into her pussy. She would have no ability to twist out of the way or even attempt to close her legs.

Then, while that one was pounding away in her snatch, the other one would discover that the plates holding her tongue could be removed separately from the plastic holding her jaws open. He would slide his own big dick into her mouth with no fear that she might clamp down and no need to even have to hold her head in place. She would try to use her tongue to keep him out of her throat, but that would just make him harder and allow him to shove his way through.

Even as Michelle tried to banish these thoughts from her head and tell herself that the thieves would not come, she heard their voices in the hall just outside her room. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but they sounded just as thuggish as she had imagined. Looking down at her naked body, she saw that while she was still wet from the liquid that had squirted out of the machine, she was also wet from her own sexual arousal.

Michelle willed herself to stop thinking about the imminent sexual encounter, knowing that it was only making her wetter and knowing that that would only make things worse. Instead of bending to her will, her mind pictured the first thief spraying his load all over her body while the second one sprayed his load on her face and into her open mouth. He would then pinch her nose closed and laugh at her as she was forced to swallow his cum if she wanted to breathe. And then...

The whole room gave a violent shake. There was a loud crash out in the hall, and she heard a man's voice shout something about needing to get out right away. The bound woman was so relieved that for a second it didn't even dawn on her to be terrified about begin trapped in a building that was in such danger of collapse that even thieves no longer wanted to stay inside. She also didn't immediately notice that the table was beginning to roll her back into the MRI.

Michelle did notice when something hard bumped into the bottom of her right foot plate. Another piece of the MRI tube must have been shaken loose and was blocking her way. The gears of the table groaned as they continued to try to push past the obstacle, then with a loud crack the plastic snapped and the table lurched forward.

The trapped woman was not at all happy about being rolled back inside the tube. She remembered that the test was supposed to have two parts, one without the contrast dye and one with. If the latest earthquake had somehow triggered the second part of the test, she could be in for at least another half hour. And that was probably the best case. If the machine was damaged, there was no way of knowing how long it would keep her and what type of harmful radiation is might blast through her.

More immediately, Michelle had to worry about other pieces of plastic that were broken off within the MRI tube. She was lucky that the first one had hit the hard foot plate. If another piece hit her skin, it could do some real damage.

Looking down her nose, the helpless woman could only watch as her body slid further into the tube. Most of the broken pieces looked to be safely out of the way. One piece, however, hung down right in the middle of the tube, far too low for her to hope to slide under. As her feet approached that piece, she hoped it would catch on one of the foot plates and snap off like the first piece.

No such luck - the piece slid right between her spread feet and continued to get closer to her body. Fortunately, it didn't look sharp like the piece that had stripped the gown off her body, but it certainly looked sturdy. How much force would it take to break it? And would her body provide that force, or would the piece split her in two? Michelle could only lay there and wait to find out.

The plastic piece was well centered, and so didn't even start to brush against the insides of her thighs until it was just inches from her crotch. By that point, it was clear that the main, unavoidable point of contact would be her exposed pussy. Her only hope was that the table would stop before that contact was made, but looking up she knew she still had a few more inches to go before she was all the way inside the machine. Contact was imminent.

The anticipation of the impact was so dreadful that the actual bump didn't feel so bad. The table was moving slowly, and the surface of the plastic was smooth. At first, that smooth surface just pressed firmly into the lower part of her pussy lips and the skin below. As the table continued to push harder and harder, however, Michelle again had to worry that she would be split in two before the plastic broke.

Then, instead of the plastic or the woman breaking, the piece of plastic simply bent slightly backwards. This allowed the table to roll the last inch into the MRI tube. The plastic was left at a small angle, still pushing into Michelle with nearly as much force as before it bent, but now positioned directly on top of her pussy lips.

Michelle felt relief at avoiding any real bodily harm on her trip into the tube, but was rather displeased with the resting location of that piece of plastic. She was already quite aroused by her situation and all the unwanted thoughts she'd been having. A piece of smooth plastic pressed firmly into her pussy lips was not going to help her get that arousal under control.

She wiggled her hips to the best of her limited ability to try to get the plastic to sit in a slightly more comfortable way. This led to the offending plastic getting seated deeper inside her pussy lips, and only trivially reduced the pressure. She decided to stop wiggling so as to avoid making things even worse for herself.

What happened next should not have taken Michelle by surprise, except that all of the recent immediate threats had made any foresight nearly impossible. Of course, since the machine had finished rolling her into place, the next step was to begin the first scan.

The instant the clanging sounds started, Michelle knew she was in trouble. The forces within the machine that caused the loud clanging and banging sounds were being transmitted as vibrations straight down the piece of plastic and directly onto her pussy. Those vibrations were orders of magnitude more intense than anything a retail vibrator might produce, and they were being delivered by a large piece of plastic that was pressed very firmly into her pussy. Her whole body jerked the moment the vibrations began.

Beep beep. The MRI machine had detected movement and was restarting the test, just seconds after it had begun.

As the vibrations started again, Michelle understood the new ordeal that her machine master had arranged for her. She had to remain still while it delivered unbelievable stimulation to her pussy. If she moved before the time was up, then it would start over and keep at it until she could remain still.

Like a good slave, she really did try to obey. She knew that while her previous mistress Amy would only give her three tries to get something like the throat scan right before giving up, her new machine master had no such failsafe. As she found out during the first set of tests, it would just keep on resetting indefinitely as long as it didn't get the accurate scan that it wanted.

As Michelle tried to lie still, the intense vibrations caused the offending plastic piece to seat itself even more deeply between her pussy lips. It ended up pushing hard directly against her clit and along her inner lips. In her already aroused state, it didn't take long for these vibrations, delivered directly to her sweet spot, to catapult her right over the orgasmic edge.

Beep beep, her master announced that she had failed and that it was resetting the clock. It beeped three more sets of times in quick succession before Michelle could get her spasming body under control and attempt to lie still again.

The intense vibrations just continued to assault her body. There was no way for her to shift that assault away from the most sensitive of places on her body, and no way for her to keep her body from responding to the assault. She vaguely remembered that the first scan, the one of her head, was supposed to be seven minutes long. There was no way to tell time, but she knew that she only made it a fraction that long until her body was wracked by a second orgasm.

Beep beep. Her master did not yell at her for her failure, or even speak to her. It simply announced that the failure had been noticed and reset the clock, all the while holding her naked body in its tight embrace and funneling all of its insane vibrations directly to her pussy.

Michelle knew that she was getting far more stimulation than her she could take. Try as she may to stay calm, a third orgasm ripped through her body even quicker than the second orgasm had. Her enforced shallow breathing was coming faster and faster as she fought to keep up with the oxygen requirements of her body's sexual explosion. It was all definitely too much for her. She fought one last time to break free of her restraints, or at least reposition the massive vibrator. All efforts were just as futile as before, and only served to bring her master's disapproval a moment before her fourth orgasm hit.

From there, Michelle's orgasms ceased to come in distinct packages. Her over-stimulated body had become one massive bundle of nerves that just kept jerking in its bonds as wave after wave of pleasure washed through it. Each desperate, shallow breath she took seemed to increase her oxygen deficit even farther.

As she felt herself start to pass out from the sustained lack of sufficient air, Michelle found herself wondering if her body would just continue to orgasm while she was unconscious. She knew her master would not care if she was awake or not; it would just continue its relentless test. Her last thought as she slipped into the black was to wonder how long it would be until a crew of burly emergency workers found her naked body, utterly ravaged and still strapped in to the machine.

It had been three months since Michelle's ordeal within the MRI. In that time, she had not suffered a single relapse of the numb skin patches that had been plaguing her for so long. The timing could not have been a coincidence. Something had happened to her during the test that had provided a cure.

Her doctor had asked a lot of questions immediately following the ordeal, so he had a basic understanding of what had occurred. At the time, he just wanted to make sure that Michelle had not been physically harmed. After finding out that his patient had been cured during the process, however, he because much more interested and had been begging her to come in for a visit. It took some time for her to work up the nerve to even go in to a hospital, but she had finally agreed.

"It's possible that some type of radiation from the damaged MRI affected your skin," the doctor was speculating. "Or it could have been something in the liquid that you said you swallowed, or it even could have been the extreme 'sensations' that you experienced."

The upshot was that the doctor wanted to run a series of tests to determine which, if any, of his hypotheses might be true. Michelle thought about doing more tests... about going back inside another MRI machine... about the insane ordeal she had been through.

She felt herself getting wet just thinking about submitting to that master one more time, and she almost found herself agreeing with the doctor to do the additional testing... but no! No way! There was no way in hell she was ever getting back inside another MRI machine for the rest of her life! Was the doctor crazy to even suggest such a thing?!