Emma swore softly under her breath as the blare of the other car's horn jerked her back to reality. She waved apologetically to the driver she'd cut off, and tried to concentrate harder on the road around her, blushing at her mistake. Not for the first time that morning she cursed the name of her boss at the Health and Safety Executive. When she'd been the most junior member of the inspection team, she'd accepted being sent on all the rotten inspection assignments as a price she had to pay to climb the ladder. But there were two other men on the team more junior than her now, and yet she was always the last to be consulted, always the one who got the inspections no-one else wanted.

As the rain splattered against her little car's windscreen, wipers ineffectual at clearing the water and giving her a clear view, she drove with exaggerated care, determined not to let her frustration lead her into an accident. Her mind was clearly much more intent on her office situation than the driving. She remembered with unnatural clarity the atmosphere in office the Friday before. Far more sniggering and whispered conversations than usual. She was used to it by now, choosing instead to concentrate on her own work. Her name, on the edge of earshot, was enough to make her look up and find her boss Colin, holding a file, talking with her team-mates, who in turn were both shaking their head. Clearly a turkey of a case being refused. Emma had rolled her eyes, but it was too late. Sure enough, Colin had weaved his way over to her desk, attempting some awkward small-talk before trying to broach the real reason he was there. With all the prevaricating and caveats, Emma ended up just taking the file and saying she'd see to it, just to make him go away. In hindsight, she perhaps should have paid more attention to his red face and uncomfortable bluster before giving in.

The final turn prompted by her sat-nav brought her into an unassuming alleyway, with brick buildings on either side but very few windows. Emma parked up, and peered out through the rain at the doorway marked with the address in the file. It certainly didn't look like a sex club, she thought. Not that Emma knew what a sex club should look like. Or that the file said that was what it was. No, the file used very circumspect language, and was very prim and official sounding. Colin's embarrassment and her co-workers reluctance had a very clear cause though. Terms like 'bondage', 'rubber', and 'restraint devices' were unavoidable. Emma rolled her eyes again in the car, exasperated that her team seemed to consist of stammering school-boys, unable to work up even a hint of professionalism. She wondered if that was the root cause of her still being at the bottom of the ladder: simply that her team-mates had just never learned to deal with members of the opposite sex. Goodness knows what they were like when out on inspections with female applicants.

She sat in the car, re-reading the file to familiarise herself with the details. As if she hadn't read it a dozen times since Friday, sitting in her little flat, poring over the details. She might pretend that it was just her being prepared, another bit of professionalism. Really though she'd have to admit it to herself, if not to anyone else. The impressive part of this inspection wouldn't be taking the job and doing it without trace of embarrassment. It would be in suppressing the quiver she'd felt reading the application for the first time. Keeping down the hot flush that her body got whenever she thought of the term 'restraint device'. If you were to check Emma's browser history, you'd find that she'd been 'preparing' for this inspection since well before this weekend, in fact for as long as she could remember. Investigations into rubber, bondage, restraint devices and a whole lot more, were what got Emma through her long nights as a single, over-worked woman. What little the Internet couldn't provide, Emma's imagination did, in spades. So when the file was opened in that male-dominated office on Friday, it took every ounce of her self-control to give no hint at all to Colin and his childish minions that she was going to treat this as anything other than a run of the mill inspection. She just hoped that she'd have enough self-control left to give the same impression to... she checked the file for the hundredth time... Jeff Arnett.

Emma straightened her prim suit jacket, smoothed down her knee length wool skirt, and made a swift but hopefully dignified dash to the slim cover of the door. She'd barely knocked once before it was whisked open, and she almost fell in the door. It took her eyes a while to adjust to the dim lighting inside, but before she could, a soft, deep voice greeted her.

"Hi there, Miss Jackson? Foul out there, isn't it?" He was tall, that much Emma could tell, the voice confident and assured. He didn't wait for a reply before following up with, "I believe you spoke with my assistant to arrange the inspection. I'm Jeff Arnett."

She took the proffered hand firmly to shake it, determined not to lose the initiative. "That's right, I'm the inspector assigned to your health and safety application. You're applying for a premises licence, for the club named 'Restrictions', for the provision of regulated entertainment, yes?"

Her eyes, fully adjusted now, took in Jeff's features. A little older than her, early thirties perhaps. Not classically handsome, but with a solid, open face. She quickly dismissed the childish notion she'd had that he would be wearing fetish gear: leather trousers or chaps. Of course he was dressed like a normal, regular guy. Casual slacks, a shirt without tie, and plain black shoes. Nothing about him said 'sex' or 'kink' in any way, so why was it the only thing on Emma's mind?

"That's right." His expression twisted a little into a wry smile. "I realise that 'regulated entertainment' probably doesn't usually have to consider this sort of club. We have a strictly limited clientele, not open to the public at all, and while what goes on here might seem unusual to... well... a more 'mainstream' person, it's all handled very safely, completely consensually, and..."

Emma cut him off, trying to appear more confident about this than she actually was. "We get all sorts of applications Mr. Arnett, from all manner of proprietors. We're... I'm not here to judge. What matters is whether or not you conform to the regulations set out. Of course those rules are there for the benefit of both you and your members. I am just here to assess whether or not your business is properly protecting the health and safety of everyone here. You have to be completely honest and up-front with me about the details of your activities here, otherwise a licence cannot be granted. Please don't hold back anything for fear of offending my sensibilities." She finished with a brisk smile and a raised eyebrow, that she'd practiced in front of the mirror many times over the weekend. It said, she hoped, "deal with me like a grown-up and we'll get along just fine. Treat me differently because I'm a woman, and there'll be trouble."

Jeff, for his part, did not disappoint. As her speech continued, his slightly concerned expression changed into an understanding smile, nodding at each point she made. "Of course." Again a broad smile as he held Emma's questioning gaze. "I'm glad you're so understanding about it. I confess that I was a little concerned that I'd have to justify what we do here first, before we even got to the details of the club."

Emma shook her head dismissively. "I'm all about the details Mr. Arnett, that's how we get things done. So, shall we get started? "

"Please, call me Jeff." Emma nodded, but didn't take the unspoken opportunity to reciprocate. 'Emma' could be flattered. 'Miss Jackson' was a professional, interested only in her job. Jeff didn't miss a beat however. "Please do come through to my office."

True to the spirit of every good bureaucracy, the first hour of Emma's visit was pure form-filling, check-box ticking, mundane work. Jeff seemed more and more comfortable as things went on, detailing the specifics of the club's operations, its staff, and the health and safety training. It was clear that he knew his operation from top to bottom, even though it was new. What became apparent was that this enterprise was a formalisation of something that Jeff and his associates had already been doing privately for some time. Emma's mind had already started to wander, considering what these backers had been getting up to all this time, but Jeff's passionate articulation kept bringing her back to the job at hand.

"Okay then," Emma finished making the last of her notes on the internal forms. "It seems that all of the staff training and procedures are up to scratch and in line with our guidance. Those will need to be updated yearly, but the standard of assessment for those updates is much less taxing than the initial inspection."

Jeff smiled, "I'm glad, we have a good team here, but we'd much rather be getting on with it than with spending our time on assessments."

Emma nodded, a little frown creeping in. "That rather brings me onto my next point. The inspection requires me to sign off that all the club's operations are managed within the guidelines. But I really can't do that without a better understanding of what 'getting on with it' actually entails."

Jeff leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, the small office not giving him much room to shift. He sucked the air in over his teeth, and Emma narrowed her eyes, sure that she was about to be fobbed off, and determined to have none of it. But then Jeff sat upright again, and looked her directly in the eyes.

"Absolutely." Emma kept his gaze, but didn't step into the pause. "If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't sign off until I had a solid understanding of just what goes on. I don't think I can do it justice with just a description though, would you mind if I gave you a tour?"

"I'd have to insist on it." Emma let a little smile creep onto her face, and followed Jeff's directions back out into the club. She'd picked up a favourable first impression when she'd arrived. Soft lighting, dark woods and patterned wallpaper gave a sense more of an old-fashioned gentleman's club than the industrial premises suggested by the outside. But that was only the main hall. The office was tucked away at the end of a corridor with several right-angled turns, and many closed wooden doors. Now Jeff was leading her back along that corridor, and opening the door onto an opulently appointed lounge.

"When our members arrive, they'll usually congregate in one of the lounges." Jeff indicated the sideboard. "Strictly soft refreshments only, as a matter of policy. Not just because that's a whole other licence, but because we don't want intoxication interfering with any of the other activities." Emma nodded at that, but said nothing. "That's not an issue for any of our members, they can go anywhere for drinks and socialising, but the other facilities we provide are unique."

"Restraint?" Emma was proud of the even tone in her voice, even though her mind was hurrying ahead to the 'facilities.'

"Amongst other things. But really, to try and sum it up like that doesn't do it justice. 'Restrictions' is about satisfying a need that our members have. Each of them is different in their needs, but they have in common desires that are not generally talked about openly. Here they can be honest with themselves, and feel free to open up about their particular predilections. No-one is judging here."

Emma couldn't stop the smile from reaching her lips at Jeff's echoing of her phrase from earlier, then tried to cover it with a question. "So it's a sex thing then?"

"Isn't everything?"

The wry smile irritated Emma. How could he be so casual, so free about something that made her so wound-up? She snapped, "You know what I mean. Do people have sex here?"

Jeff was unflappable. "Sometimes, yes. We don't limit what members do behind closed doors. But everyone is very clear that risks are to be minimised. Coercion is strictly forbidden. No-one comes here or does anything without consenting. We are very clear with all our members, everyone has the right to refuse, and are told how to exercise that right, even in case they are... restricted. Anyone breaching those rules would be not only excluded but reported to the police, without exception, to face the full consequences of their actions. It has never come up, because we are very selective about our membership, but all of my backers and I have been very clear on that provision."

He was so serious, so earnest, so calm. Emma found herself listening intently, unable to break his gaze. She knew she was blushing, embarrassed, and a little sorry for snapping. He continued before she had to respond. "We don't have public orgies though, if that's what you are thinking. Our members meet here, " he indicated the sumptuous lounge with his hand, "but when they want to play, they and their partner, or partners, retire to one of the playrooms. Let me show you them, and it may help you to understand."

Emma stayed silent, but nodded. On returning to the corridor, Jeff deliberated for only a moment before leading Emma through another door. It was a much smaller room than the lounge, and only one piece of furniture occupied it. Emma's heart was already beating faster, but the lurch it gave when she laid eyes on the large, wooden St. Andrew's cross surprised even her. As Jeff moved around behind it, she had to bite her lip and will herself to speak. "A bondage cross, right?"

Jeff's smile was warm, and yet his tone was not patronising. "Yes. You've seen one before?"

Emma stammered, "I... no... I've just seen them. In a film I think." It was a film she'd seen, for sure. But not in a cinema. Purchased and downloaded, in the privacy of her own bedroom. Imagining the girl on the cross was her, stretching her arms out wide, wondering what it would feel like to have the cuffs closed tightly around her wrists. The whipping the girl had received did nothing for Emma, she didn't relish the thought of the pain. She'd watched it for the bondage, over and over. But the thought spurred her next question. "Clearly there are safety aspects though. The risk of strain, pulling on the wrists?"

Jeff shook his head. "Done naively, on cheap equipment perhaps. You see these straps here?" He indicated the upper spars of the cross. There certainly were more straps than on the video Emma had watched. "Each strap takes an equal share of the strain, spreading it out. The occupant is really very well supported. You're not convinced?"

Emma's frown must have been apparent on her face. "It's just... It's a little hard to see."

Jeff nodded seriously. "I could... Well... How serious were you about appreciating the details, without judgement Miss Jackson?"

"Of course I was serious!" Emma retorted, "The only way this inspection is completed is if I know what goes on here and judge it to be safe. My professional judgement is on the line."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. But for someone who is not... experienced... I think the only to really understand the situations the clientele will be in, is to try to experience them yourself. Just for illustration of course." he quickly added, to head off any further annoyance from Emma.

Emma's confidence wouldn't let her back down. She'd played the professional, detached inspector. To refuse now would be to admit that this was getting to her. And it was getting to her. The room was feeling very warm, and she was struggling to keep her voice steady. "Very well then. With the understanding that the minute I feel that anything is unsafe, I will call a halt to the proceedings immediately. Yes?" Her voice contained an assertiveness she didn't believe, but Jeff simply nodded and acceded to her demand. "Good. So, then. The wrist strain." She approached the cross confidently, raising her arms upwards to the angle of the spars. Her woolen jacket lifted up behind her, limiting her range.

"Perhaps if you took that off?" Emma nodded, a little flustered, but lowered her arms and let Jeff help her take the jacket off, as if he were simply a waiter in a classy restaurant. Emma's white silk shirt clung to her body, the heat from her embarrassment making her feel even more flushed. Gently, Jeff guided her back towards the cross, turning her around so her back pressed against the leather padding in the centre. She raised her arms again, conscious of her chest pushing against the thin fabric of her shirt. Jeff paid it no mind however, focusing on her left arm, pulling each strap from under her and wrapping it around, buckling the restraints with care and skill.

The leather of the straps was like nothing she'd ever felt before. The leather cuffs she'd purchased online were cheap and hard, with rough edges. She'd assumed they were all like that. Not these. The feeling of them pressing into her flesh was like a soft embrace, and yet for all its softness she could feel there was next to no give in them at all. Each strap pinned another section of her arm into the leather padding of the cross, at the shoulder, above her elbow, then below, then finally at her wrist. By the time Jeff had secured one arm, Emma's breath was coming in faster and faster gasps. Once he'd finished securing the second, her heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of her chest. She was trying not to close her eyes and moan, but in her head that's exactly what was happening. Jeff was nowhere, in her imagination it was just her and this implacable cross. Tugging, pulling, but being held utterly firm. Spreading her legs wide and finding them secured to the lower spars of the cross as well...

The feeling of her knee-length skirt pulling against her thighs was what brought her back to reality. Had she been trying to spread her legs? In front of Jeff?

"...firmly held is what also makes it perfectly safe." How long had he been talking while she was day-dreaming? "Do you feel any strain anywhere?"

"No. No, you're right it's quite comfortable." Emma's voice wavered a little bit on comfortable, but if Jeff noticed he gave no indication.

"It's really very hard to misuse the equipment, especially since being securely held is an integral part of the play. You feel secure?"

Emma didn't trust herself to say anything, but simply nodded. Her face was very flushed now, and were her bra any thinner, her nipples would have been clearly apparent to Jeff, as he began to undo the straps. Emma struggled to get her breathing under control, and stayed silent as first one arm came free, then the other. Rubbing her wrists, she waited for Jeff to continue.

The next room he led her to was across the corridor, dark, except for the centrepiece. In a less kinky environment, Emma might have mistaken the imposing figure for a statue, dark and matt grey, human shaped but slightly larger than a tall man. Moving round to the side, she could see that it was actually hinged, and held open slightly. The spotlights above illuminated rich red padding inside, but not much more.

"This is an iron maiden, technically." Jeff's laugh was warm and comforting. "No spikes in this one however, it's purely for enclosure. You would be held inside and the maiden closed. Air holes here and here," he indicated the top and sides of the head, "ensure that airflow isn't an issue." He moved towards the door as he continued, "the next room is more focused on sensory deprivation, and..."

"Hold on, not so fast. I haven't experienced this room yet." Emma stood with her hands on her hips, in front of the intimidating piece.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise. You want to try every piece? I thought that seeing them and an explanation would be sufficient."

"I really must insist Jeff. The more you dance around the specifics of what you do here, the more concerned I am that you're hoping that some sort of squeamishness on my part is going to stop me doing my job thoroughly. Treat me as if I were one of your members, and show me everything." Emma hoped the serious look she gave him would lend weight to her words, but her heart was thumping in her chest. She wanted to experience it all, yes, but not for her work. Did he see through that? No hint of it was showing on his face, but how could he not know how intoxicating this felt?

"I apologise, I thought nothing of the sort, and I'm most certainly not trying to hide anything. You can, of course, try anything and everything. It's just..." his gaze lowered to Emma's skirt, "logistically..."

"Logistically?"

"Well, the design is rather form fitting. Skirts aren't really workable."

Emma paused, the wind taken out of her sails. "Oh, yes. I see. Of course." She hesitated for a moment longer, but she knew straight away the only answer.

"You can of course leave your clothes here," he indicated a discreet side table. Emma was already fumbling with her shirt buttons, determined to pretend that this wasn't a big deal. Jeff kindly busied himself with the maiden itself as she shucked her skirt and top, folding them fastidiously on the table. Her sensible black shoes were lost too, leaving her in just her white pantyhose, knickers and bra. She was thankful the club was comfortably warm, aware of just how much bare flesh she had on display.

When Jeff turned back, Emma was watching his reaction intently. Perhaps just a hint of a smile, but not laughing at her discomfort as she'd feared. A brief glance over her undressed body, but not lingering, not leering. Still, she felt a flush pass through her as she stood before him, exposed. He held the maiden open a bit further, and gestured for her to approach, without speaking.

As she stepped in, she could see the intricacies of the device more clearly. Rich, red fabric appointed the interior, pinned tightly in place. The bulk of the figure was mostly padding, the internal shape was made for a much more slender figure. As Jeff helped her up and inside, she could feel the edges of the cut-out pressing against her arms and legs. He wasn't wrong - a skirt simply wouldn't work. The inside leg padding came right up her thighs, and nestled snugly against her crotch. She guessed she was somewhat smaller than the ideal size for the maiden. As she stepped up and into the shape, Jeff pulled back, critically assessing her positioning. "That's just great, now you have to make sure your arms and legs are flush with the padding." His touch on her arm was firm but gentle, and she found herself blushing red. She hoped it wasn't noticeable against the rich colouring of the padding.

Once she was as far back as she could go, her arms and legs nestled snugly into the back of the shape, he leant down and inserted a long, thick pole of dark wood into a recess in the side. She could feel it slipping past her wrists, first the left, then across her waist, then the right. The final step involved a little rotation before it moved backwards a little, which she realised meant that it was hooked into a little nook. Without leverage, there'd be no way, from inside, to undo the insertion and remove the bar. Emma was unconsciously biting her bottom lip now. She could probably still pull her arms up, above the bar, and reach out to extract it. Her hind-brain was screaming that advice to her. But she was frozen, entranced, still taking in the sensations. The second bar put pay to any thoughts of escape. Jeff took only a moment to adjust the height of the hole, before the bar slid into place, across her shoulders, as he gently pushed on her sternum to make sure she was fully back. Once in place, her arms, her neck, they were stuck, right where they were. Her breath was coming more quickly now, chest rising and falling under Jeff's chaste pressure.

She was afraid to meet Jeff's gaze now, didn't want him to see the effect this was having on her. When the second bar trapped her, she tried to fix her eyes on the soft light-shade in the ceiling. As he fixed the third bar in place, securing her ankles, she let out an involuntary little moan and closed her eyes. He must know. She had nowhere to hide, no way to pretend. The fourth bar pressed against the front of her thighs as it pressed them backwards, the tightness emphasising the smallness of the space. She was sure her arousal must be clearly visible to him now. He must be staring right at the panties, reading her feelings like they were written on a page for him. Her eyes were now tightly shut, refusing to open them. The final bar, slipping across her lower chest, just above her elbows but below her bra, almost supporting her breasts. It was utterly superfluous. She was helpless. Barely an inch of movement, in any direction. She had been several bars ago.

"I'm going to close the door now." His voice was soft, barely audible. She could hear it over the thudding of her heart in her chest, but only just. She didn't answer. It wasn't a question. They both knew it. As the maiden softly closed, Emma could tell just how dark it was, even with her eyes closed. All the soft light from the room gone. As she heard the click from outside the device, her first thought was just how muffled it was, just how isolating the padding made her feel. She opened her eyes, and the darkness was complete. She was wholly, utterly trapped, in a way far beyond what she'd ever experienced before. Her body was responding to that, viscerally. Her veneer of professionalism meant nothing to it, and she found her hips, grinding against the padding and the bars. The v shape between her legs felt incredibly intense as she pressed her sex down into it. But she had such little freedom to move, it was maddeningly frustrating. The thought that she was attempting to hump this inanimate piece of furniture floated to the front of her mind, that she should be ashamed of that. But her rational mind wasn't in control of her movements any more. She couldn't stop herself, craving more.

Seconds seemed to stretch into hours as she stood there, squirming. No light, no sound. Her fast breathing made the interior stuffy, but not unpleasant. Jeff hadn't been wrong about the airways. Emma craned her neck upwards and around, but she couldn't see any points of light that might suggest a hole leading to the outside. But every movement simply reminded her of the restraints holding her in place. Slowly, her hips stopped their rotating and grinding. There was no satisfaction to be had there. Her rational brain retook the upper hand. Surely he would let her out soon. This was just a demonstration.

More seconds ticked past. How long had it been already? She just couldn't tell. This device was certainly fiendishly good at its job, she had to admit that. Again she squirmed, with more purpose this time, shifting her arms up and down, trying to find some leverage, some weakness or flaw she could exploit. Her stubbornness was kicking in.

But even she had to admit defeat. Nothing worked. The bars wouldn't budge, the padding had very little give, and her awkward position meant she had little strength to apply. As she slumped in the shaped padding, the cleft between her legs sent a surge of sensation through her again. She moaned softly, wantonly. It felt so good, rubbing, straining. She knew this was the feeling she craved. When she toyed with her own ropes, in the secret safety of her apartment's bedroom, these were the sensations that got her off. Pulling against restraints that just wouldn't let her free. Pretending she was helpless. Unable to stop the wanton things that were going to happen to her.

Now she was biting her lip again. Imagining a gag? Maybe... The darkness, the silence. She had to fill in the gaps, and what she filled them with were her fantasies. Of being locked up tightly in a padded cell, waiting for her captors to return and continue their sexual 'therapy'. Of being captured and transported to an unknown location, to be prepared for shipping to her new owner. She had no desire to be a slave, but the thought of being bound and transported somewhere, with no say in it, that was definitely one of her pocket fantasies.

A short, discreet cough snapped her from her reverie. Her eyes snapped open to the soft light of the room. At some point she'd closed them without realising, just like she did at home. She stopped herself, mid grind, hips pressing forward against the bar holding them in place. Jeff was there, holding the door of the maiden open, his smile showing... what? Not disgust, like she feared. Not derision. But if he was amused, it seemed to be tempered with something like satisfaction. Emma's throat was closed, not by the bar under her chin, but her own embarrassment. Thankfully Jeff was the one to break the silence.

"So, I think you... appreciate our Iron Maiden. Although it's rather more wood than iron. It feels good, doesn't it?" Emma's only response was a little squeak. She'd intended it to be an acknowledgement, but hadn't quite managed to vocalise the thought. He inclined his head a little, peering into the dimly lit interior of the maiden, seemingly assessing Emma's condition. He certainly didn't seem to be making any move to release her. "Tell me Miss Jackson, have you ever been fully restricted before?"

She took a moment to take a deep swallow, trying to marshal her thoughts. "I... uh... Not really."

"Not really? But you have been... tied?"

For some reason Emma tried to nod rather than admit it. Knocking her chin against the bar at her neck made her bite her tongue, only flustering her further. "Yes."

"I'm glad." This puzzled her, and it must have shown on her face. "Sorry. I'm not glad that you've been tied. Glad that you're open to understanding the enjoyment that restriction, proper restriction, can bring." He leaned around to the side, and began to release and withdraw the bars, firstly the one under her chin, then her chest, then the one pinning her wrists. She let her upper body shift out of the padded maiden, rubbing her wrists absently in front of her as she looked at him, nervously. The rest of the bars were removed in silence, before he helped her out and down from the maiden, solicitous for her comfort. As she stood in front of him, semi-naked, still flushed and uncomfortable, he took her right hand in both of his and held it. Not firmly, not aggressively, but comfortingly.

"We are all lovers of restraint here. We know the pleasure it brings. The intensity of it." His eyes seemed to bore into hers. "There's no government regulation that could make us more aware or more careful about the well-being of the people who play here than we already are. Because we all crave those sensations, and at a level far beyond that which can be treated carelessly." He nodded back up towards the maiden before continuing, "I hope experiencing that feeling helps you to appreciate that. And I'm glad that we could give you an experience that is new to you. That's the essence of what this club is all about. I'd like to show you more, if you're ready?"

Emma nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "Wonderful. Follow me." The grasped hand was used to lead Emma back towards the corridor before he let it fall, trusting her to follow without looking back to check. Several turns, left and right, past more than a few doors that left Emma wondering what delights were behind them. Her mind was still reeling from the sudden shift, from the feelings the maiden had left her with, and the earnestness of Jeff's little speech. She was operating by gut instinct now, and her gut was happy to follow Jeff to the next room. As he selected a door, seemingly no different from a dozen other doors they'd passed, she was through it and inside, the door clicking closed, before she had a chance to register the contents of the new room.

Like the maiden room, this one was dominated by a single piece of furniture in the centre. The outside of the room had ornate wood side tables and simple chairs, but no-one would look at them first. They, like Emma, would be staring at the large frame, festooned with odd components. Jeff thwarted that by moving to stand in front of the frame, capturing Emma's gaze.

"I hope I've earned some amount of your of trust by now, but if we're to move on, I'm going to have to ask for you to indulge me."

"Indulge you?" Emma's eyes widened, her mental flick-book of fantasies already wide-open, shuffled forward to the pages where she was bound and used to indulge the pleasures of her captors in various sordid ways.

He smiled and shook his head, "not like that, sorry. I mean that to show you, to let you experience this room properly, we need to lose the last of your clothing."

Emma looked at him, eyes still wide, chest thumping with nervousness. Mind swimming with thoughts, racing through possible scenarios. Her assertiveness was still in there, fighting to be heard, but to her surprise it was no longer trying to get her to suppress her desires. All the different parts of her were aligning, looking forward to the possibilities. None of them wanted to be left behind. If her sense of caution was still in there, it was smart enough to keep its head down and its mouth shut. As long, slow second ticked past, she felt a renewed strength of purpose flowing through her. Her back straightening, she nodded slowly to Jeff, hands going behind her to the bra fastener. Fumbling a little, she unhooked it and let it fall down her arms and away, even as she hooked her thumbs into her sensible white panties. As she peeled them downwards, the sensation of the damp fabric being pulled away from her hot pink lips was sharp and immediate. She blushed a little at how obviously horny she was, and lifted her hands to cross and cover her breasts, before stepping out of the knickers now lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Jeff smiled warmly, taking no notice of her embarrassment, and reached out to take Emma's hand, pulling it away from her body to guide her towards the device. She lifted her leg over the bench that formed the base of the device, not quite aware of how it was supposed to work but trusting in Jeff's guidance. Arranged somewhat like a weights bench, she straddled the main horizontal beam, and he positioned her with her back against the tall padded upright. Her breath was still uneven after her previous exertions, so she tried to calm herself and keep the quaver from her voice as she asked, "So, how does this one work?"

Jeff smiled, "For this one it's easiest if I explain as I go. May I?" He gently but firmly lifted her right hand, and lowered it into a loose canvas tube attached firmly on that side of the upright.. Her left hand got the same treatment as Emma cleared her throat and attempted to relax. She was all too aware that the bench kept her legs apart, and the smell of her arousal must be as clearly apparent to him as it was to her. She looked down at the arm tubes as Jeff stepped round to the front of the bench and started working with the lacing that ran up each tube. Quickly and with very little effort, he pulled both laces taut, and Emma felt the cloth snug down against her forearms. Before she had a chance to test them, he had looped the end of each of the laces around handy hooks. Pulling against their soft embrace, Emma realised there was absolutely no give in the fabric, and with that small movement she was fixed tightly to the upright.

"I... uh..." Jeff gave her a reassuring and knowing smile, and move around behind the bench where she could not see. He brought back an intimidating looking ovoid frame, of the same solid looking black bars that comprised the bulk of the piece on which she was mounted. He hefted it in his hands and smiled again. "What's that?"

"This is the head-piece." He lifted it up to shoulder-height to show her. "Padded to avoid chafing as you can see." She could indeed see, as well as the subtle shaping that resembled a human head, right down to an O-shaped gap for the mouth. One side was completely open, and as he moved it closer she realised her head was to be enclosed. She couldn't help but back her head away from it as he moved in closer, until her head rested against the padded frame. Still he came on, and she tensed as he surrounded her head with the bars. Just as she felt the padding touch the sweaty skin of her forehead, a solid sounding clunk told her it had engaged with the frame. Jeff's hands moved surely as he checked all sides to ensure Emma's hair wasn't caught. Something about the unspoken care he took reassured her, despite the intimidating feeling of enclosure. Satisfied, he pushed a little harder, and Emma felt the padding grip her forehead and cheeks more firmly, and as a click reverberated through the bars, she knew it was locked on. Her pussy gave a little jump at the sensation, she knew that the arm tubes alone were enough to render her helpless, but the restriction of her head made it feel much more final. She splayed her fingers out from below the tubes, and waited.

Jeff stood back and checked her over, the smile replaced with a look of concentration and assessment. Emma became rather self conscious that her bare chest was thrust out from the frame, her breasts heaving in and out as her breath came quickly. She waited for him to speak, but he didn't. Instead, he moved to her side again. Instinctually she tried to turn her head to follow him, but the frame allowed her no motion at all. She could see him working away out of the corner of her eye, but not tell what he was doing. "So," he said matter-of-factly, "the real secret of this device is in the back, specifically the piece to which you're affixed." At this, whatever he was pulling at came free, and Emma felt the padding behind her move. She realised quickly, it was moving, up and down, on a track. By stretching or hunching, she could move the entire assembly along its track freely. But for what possible purpose?

He was retrieving something else now, something solid sounding as she could hear the clunking as he rummaged under the frame. "The moving assembly is one side of the equation, and this is the other." At this he moved back in front so Emma could see what he was holding: a shaped, chunky piece of the same dark wood as the bench. On it were two uncomfortably large looking dildos; one clearly for the front, larger and smooth, the other for her other hole, smaller but ridged, flared from a narrow base. Her eyes widened and she involuntarily tugged at her arm restraints. At that he smiled, and perfunctorily set about lubricating the two intruders. "We have multiple sets of course, we wouldn't allow our clientele to share, for hygiene reasons as you'd expect." Emma watched, biting her lip, her job and health and safety considerations the last thing on her mind. He inserted the block into a matching channel in the centre of the two horizontal pieces that made up the bench, and slid it home until it was out of her field of view, directly beneath her.

Unsure of what to expect, Emma stayed silent. Jeff moved out of her view again, and it wasn't until she heard his voice right by her ear that she realised how close he was. "Are you getting an inkling of the purpose of the device yet?"

"I... uh... not really," Emma stammered.

"Hmm," Jeff seemed genuinely surprised, "well the final step will make it all clear I'm sure. But before then we have to complete the restraint. Are you comfortable with gags?"

"I... Is that really necessary?"

"You did insist that I spare no details of the intended use. No-one would be put into this device and left un-gagged." Jeff seemed amused that Emma was still mustering reluctance.

"I don't... Well, I... Only for a short while." Emma could barely see the thing that appeared in front of the mouth-hole of the frame, but she felt its penis-like shape as he gently eased it into her open mouth. Further and further back it went, pressing down on her tongue, but just before she felt like she might choke, she felt the familiar click as it locked into place. She tested it with her teeth, and wrapped her lips around its hard rubber surface. "Arrghhay." Her breath came even faster now, forced through her nose rather than try to breath around the thick intruder in her mouth.

"Most of our devices have the captive fighting tight straps, ropes or chains. But this device has you fighting gravity." Emma frowned, not understanding. She was standing perfectly comfortably, astride the bench and above the greased plugs. It wasn't until she felt his hands feeding a rope behind her knees that she started to get a sinking feeling. Sure enough, she felt an insistent tugging on the rope, pulling her legs forward. He was tightening it, not that much, but enough to force her to shuffle forward rather than lose her footing. And it was then she started to feel the tension in her knees. Not just her own weight pressed down on her legs, but she also had to support the head-cage and the heavy wooden assembly. When her knees were at a forty-five degree angle, he stopped pulling, but she knew it was enough. She tensed, pushing her back firmly into the upright, feeling the frame slide up and down behind her.

"Of course, to make it that little bit more difficult, there's also the ratchet." Another click reverberated through the frame, at first with no apparent effect. But as Emma wobbled in her precarious position and her back slipped downwards, she realised the damning effect. Each short step downwards came with a loud click, echoing in the empty silent chamber, and try as she might, she could not persuade the frame to go back upwards. As she realised just what that would mean, she quivered and slipped several notches further. The ache in her knees was turning into a slow, persistent burn. Jeff was nowhere to be seen, and she couldn't hear him either. Had he left her alone to her fate?

She moaned into the gag, pulling against the unforgiving canvas restraints, to no avail. The knowledge of those plugs underneath her was enough to keep her determined, not to give in. But her body was betraying her. Breath coming ragged and quickly, she struggled against the quivering of her legs. The throbbing turned to wobbling, the wobbling to shaking, and she cried out into the gag as she slipped downwards, again and again. Each slip intensified the burning in her thighs and made it all the harder. When she felt the larger of the two plugs press against her mound, she shrieked.

With nowhere else to go, she hardened her legs as best she could. But the feeling of it, pressing against her, was all she could focus on. Every quiver of her legs shifted it against her soaked pussy, slipping, sliding. She could feel its blunt head parting her pussy-lips, teasing her. An involuntary motion rubbed it against her clit, and the electric tingle cause her to slip down yet further, impaling herself on its tip. Now she could feel the anal intruder pressing against her tight rear hole. Emma's eyes were tightly shut, lost to everything but the burning in her legs and the pressure of the dildos. She tried to stay perfectly still, the front dildo holding her in place, but she knew she was fighting a losing battle. Rather than let it take her as she fell, she moved herself around, slowly, letting the tip ease itself inside of her.

Once both her holes were being penetrated, Emma felt almost a sense of calm fall over her. She knew what was coming now, the only question was when. Another notch on the ratchet, another ridge on the anal plug. The sensation was intense, and threatened to overwhelm Emma, but she knew she had to focus. Another ridge, each one larger than the last. She tried to remember how many there were when he'd showed her the plug, but couldn't. One more, and Emma was thankful for the copious amount of lube on it. Her ass was tight now, she'd never had anything so large in her before. She became conscious that she was moaning loudly and insistently into the gag, without even realising she was doing it. She knew that her legs wouldn't hold much longer. Suddenly her eyes focused on Jeff, back in front of her. His stare was intense, and meeting her gaze, he paused, then nodded. There didn't need to be words, Emma understood what he meant.

She let go. Let gravity do its work, and prayed her body would cope. The feeling of the front plug filling her fully was eclipsed by the sharp pain of the rear plug's wide final ridge pushing her open, and then her sphincter pulling shut around the flared base. The cry into the thick gag was short and sharp, but then she was done. Relaxed almost. Her chest heaving for breath, she slumped into the restraints as her legs thankfully gave all the weight to the bench. Jeff had a broad smile on his face, and Emma couldn't help but flush with satisfaction and relief.

Jeff's reassuring hand on her shoulder barely registered. "Well done, you did well. You deserve the reward." Emma blinked as she felt him reach under the frame, working with the plugs. When they sprang to life inside her, vibrating strongly, she gave a shriek and started wrenching against the arm restraints again. Nothing about the frame had any give to it, her head held stiffly in place, her arms pinned firmly to the sides of the upright, and the heavy frame pressing her shoulders and back down into the bench. She could squirm, her chest pulling away from the back and upright, but nothing she could do diminished the throbbing, pulsing plugs pressed into her most sensitive places. Jeff was nowhere in sight again, but Emma was lost in her own little world anyway. The tightness of her bondage was so encompassing it only seemed to focus the stimulation down into a laser-thin beam pointed right at her crotch. She was gasping for breath around the gag in her mouth now, her body heaving and shaking as she fought the vibrations inside her. Like her fight with gravity though, this was another she had no hope of winning. When the waves of orgasm came crashing over her, she surrendered herself to it completely, bucking and thrashing in her restraints. Every time she thought she couldn't take any more, another wave would course through her. Still Jeff left her tormentors buzzing. By the time she passed out, she'd lost count of the number of orgasms...

The first thing that struck her as she regained consciousness was Jeff's face, hovering over her, concerned and intent. She could feel tingling all across her body, from her fingertips to her shoulders; to her chest down to her pussy. And ohhh, her pussy. Her hand moved involuntarily towards it, the aching, tingling, hot sensation needing a hand to massage her belly and mound. She had been pressing for a few seconds before it occurred to her that she was no longer unable to move. Looking down at her sides, she heard Jeff laugh. "Quick release." Suddenly he was holding up a long flexible needle, and she realised that the lacing of the tubes allowed the captive to be both irrevocably bound and seconds from freedom at the same time.

"Ohhhhh, my..." Her chest still heaving, Emma tried to focus properly on Jeff. He politely stepped back, satisfied she was recovering properly, offering a hand to help her up and off the bench. Her first attempt failed quickly, her legs wobbly and unable to support her weight. As she sat heavily back down on the padded bench, she couldn't help but laugh. And that was it: then they were both chuckling, looking at each other like school-children caught indulging in a prank, wide grins and no need for words.

All tension gone, it was Jeff that finally spoke. "So, I don't think that a hands-on demonstration of all the toys we have is really practical, really, do you?"

Emma shook her head with a smile. "Mmmmm, more toys like that? I don't know that my body could cope. And my boss is expecting the report on his desk by tomorrow lunchtime. I don't fancy trying to cram all of those other rooms in between now and then."

"Well, Miss Jackson, I wouldn't dream of trying to influence your professional decision. But I think I can say on behalf of my associates that there is a complimentary membership for you, to be used at your discretion whenever you want. There will be plenty of time to... assess... any more safety issues."

Emma giggled, feeling more relaxed than she'd ever been while still thinking about work. "I think that we can safely say that, on the basis of the evidence I've seen, your establishment has passed the assessment. But I will definitely have to make a more in-depth analysis, for professional completeness, of course." They both nodded and made serious faces at each other, before bursting out laughing again.