Elaine Garcia, a First Lieutenant in the US Army, was bound and suspended. Her body hung gracefully in the air, about a meter from the ground, signifying an enticing surrender. Her limbs were stretched wide, her arms reaching for the heavens, her legs spread wide open in an enticing invitation.

A robust metal spreader bar, hung horizontally from the ceiling, served as her suspension support. Each of its ends was ensnared by a glistening gold chain, secured to a single hook embedded in the concrete ceiling, forming a triangular support frame. Two additional pairs of gold chains, shimmering in the warm light, linked the spreader bar to Elaine's wrists and thighs. One set of chains was padlocked to her wrist cuffs, while the other was looped around her padded thigh suspension cuffs, forcing her body into an upright position.

These chains bore the weight of her body, maintaining her vulnerable and alluring posture, ensuring she was readily available to her captor.

Only moments before, First Lieutenant Elaine Garcia was the centerpiece of a military promotion ceremony, ascending in rank alongside her fellow US Army servicemembers. She was a sight to behold with a figure accentuated by her meticulously tailored Class A Army Service Uniform that was as verdant as an emerald. Her company-grade officer service hat, supported by her voluminous hair coiled in tight bun, nestled snugly atop her head. Its luxurious dark green color, in perfect harmony with her uniform, contrasted beautifully against the glimmering gold band and the gold US Army insignia. It framed her facial features, which held an innocent charm that belied her military rank, enhancing the allure of the girl-next-door visage she effortlessly embodied.

Strategically positioned on each side of her dark green jacket, her name tag and the vibrant array of service ribbons, irresistibly drew every attention to the modest swell of her breasts. Tailored to perfection, the jacket on its own clung to her every curves like a second skin, accentuating the cinched dip of her waist and the widened flare of her hips. Concealed beneath the sumptuous fabric of the uniform resplendent in its rich texture, the hourglass body whispered an enticing invitation, begging for the thrill of exploration through the intimacy of touch.

Beneath the confines of her jacket, she adorned herself with a long-sleeved light green AG-415 regulation blouse, with its cuffs buttoned snugly around her wrists. The light and dark green contrast added an enthralling touch of elegance to her uniformed allure of authority. Encircling her neck was a meticulously-aligned black neck tab, the adorning ornament that ensured her blouse’s collar remained buttoned up, collaring her slender neck.

Her bold selection of a matching dark green skirt, strategically hemmed to hang a daring five inches above her kneecaps, was the most audacious among the servicewomen who opted for skirts over slacks. The flared skirt revealed a generous expanse of her toned legs, sheathed in nude-colored stockings with a barely-visible backseam, hypnotizing all who dared to look. The pièce de résistance of her ensemble was a pair of high-gloss patent-black three-inch stiletto heels, the highest permissible height according to the uniform dress code for US Army servicemembers. The stilettos, with their gleaming polish, were a visual feast.

As she walked, the heels clicked rhythmically on the floor, each step a seductive dance that oozed sensuality and mesmerized all onlookers.

It only took a matter of hours for the freshly-promoted First Lieutenant to find herself helplessly suspended mid-air in a display of an artful bondage. Her legs were enticingly spread wide in a provocative invitation. Her skirt was rebelliously hitched up to her waist. Her light green blouse, tucked neatly under the skirt’s waistband, showcased a thoughtful design of six black garter straps discreetly sewn on the inside. Connecting the blouse to the welt of her stockings, these garter straps maintained tensions between the clothing articles, ensuring her blouse remained neatly tucked in place and her seamed stockings held securely upright.

Despite her penchant for meticulously coordinating fashion pieces, she had daringly chosen to forgo panties on this monumental day, leaving her fully-shaven nether regions devoid of any fabric barrier. Her velvety-smooth skin, ensnared between the military green of her uniform and the nude shade of her stockings, was an intoxicating sight certain to stir the deepest carnal desires. Her rosy folds, dewy with arousal from the day’s events, were explicitly protruding on display. Every now and then a fresh droplet of natural lubrication would escape, dripping on the floor beneath her, painting a vivid portrait of her arousal and anticipation.

It wasn’t long until a door behind her softly opened, followed by footsteps of a man and a woman, accompanied by a deafening noise from the promotion ceremony. As the door closed, silence quickly enveloped the room, showcasing its excellent noise suppression acoustics. Elaine could distinguish the sensual rustle of Natick-certified fabrics of their uniforms brushing against each other as the man and woman adjusted each other's uniforms.

The woman walked away from the door, circling around the edge of Elaine's field of vision, her high heels making a seductive clacking sound against the hardwood floor. The man's low-quarter shoes echoed in harmony as he moved towards Elaine, assessing the integrity of the bondage apparatus that held her in a rigid, yet aesthetically captivating suspension. The woman, also a servicemember of the US Army, donned a dark green Class A Army Service Uniform that mirrored Elaine’s tight-fitting cut. Her walk strayed from military discipline, resembling a model strutting down a runway, her hips swinging provocatively with each step. A delicate, almost inaudible jingle of metals accompanied her every movements, adding another layer of erotic intrigue to the scene as she made her way towards a standing desk in front of Elaine.

The desk was an intriguing piece of furniture that lacked a chair for the occupant to recline in comfort. Often found in contemporary office desks, this particular desk lacked the modesty panels, a deliberate omission that presented an enticing opportunity for an upskirt view of its occupant.

A metal square base plate served as the pedestal for a sleek, mirror-polished cylinder that defiantly protruded from the ground, reaching half the height of the standing desk. This cylinder was crowned with a metallic dildo of equal shine and reflectiveness.

The entire contraption, colloquially termed “one-bar prison”, stood out invitingly to any who possessed the deepest carnal desires to indulge in its seductive perversion.

Private First Class Earhart, her Prisoner of War ribbon and name boldly displayed on her uniform jacket, positioned herself behind the desk and stepped onto the base plate. She provocatively spread her legs such that the tip of the metallic phallus barely grazed her crotch. Lifting the hem of her shortened A-line skirt, she revealed a pair of crotchless nude pantyhose that clung to her legs, enhancing their flawless sheen. Adorning the outer folds of her labia were a series of radiant silver rings. Four on each side, each with a diameter of around three centimeters, pierced through her delicate flesh. From each ring hung teardrop pendants, connected by an eight-centimeter-long strand of silver chain, glimmering in the sensually warm lighting in the room.

As Earhart moved, these eight pendants swung freely between her thighs, creating a seductive metallic symphony that announced her every move. The final touch of her audacious flair was a silver clitoral shield, strategically placed to guard her pierced clitoral hood from unsolicited stimulation, its presence signified a provocative promise of the pleasures that lay beneath.

PFC Earhart, with a teasing glint in her eyes, pressed a button on the edge of her desk. It activated the motor inside the cylinder as it began its slow ascent, inch by inch, towards the welcoming heat of Earhart's depths. Her fingers parted the piercing rings surrounding her labia in eager anticipation to the metallic intruder. As the phallic tip of the cylinder made contact with Earhart’s slick entrance to her womanhood, she rhythmically rolled her hips, aiding its smooth insertion. She did not let go of the button as the cylinder continued to thrust the dildo higher and deeper, filling her, lifting her up from within. With each passing moment, she was compelled to clamp her legs together, her balance precarious on her teetering four-inch high heels.

Finally, with a satisfied sigh, she released the button. Her body was now intimately bound to the desk by the one-bar prison, with a metallic phallus embedded deep within her, her own weight pressing the cold metal base preventing her escape.

Taking a moment to regain her composure, PFC Earhart leaned on the desk, one of her hands seeking its firm support. Once her breath had steadied, she released the hem of her skirt, allowing it to cascade elegantly down to her mid-thigh. The skirt deceptively concealed the sleek phallic tip of the one-bar prison, deeply lodged inside her pleasure canal, leaving the vertical cylinder innocently stationed between her dainty tiptoeing feet. Additionally, the skirt also softened the provocative silhouette of the piercings adorning the PFC’s intimate area, transforming them into a seductive hint of a micro-penis. With the erotic accessories veiled by her uniform, to the unobservant, PFC Earhart was indistinguishable from any other servicewoman faithfully performing her desk duty.

PFC Earhart caressed her military ensemble, her palms gliding over the form-fitting jacket and skirt, smoothing out every crease. With a graceful twist, she pivoted sideways, the movement as swift as the constraints of her one-bar-prison allowed. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, awakening her dormant computer with a few well-executed keystrokes. Moments later, a gimbal-stabilized video camera swiveled, its lens zeroing in on Elaine. The red recording light on the camera blinked before it finally steadied into a solid glow. At this sight, Earhart turned to the man behind Elaine, her thumb raised in a silent gesture of affirmation. The recording had begun.

Colonel Pike, with the elegance reflecting his years in the military, positioned himself before Elaine. His impeccably tailored Class A uniform was pristine, without a crease in sight, adorned with seven impressive stacks of service awards and ribbons on the left side of his jacket. His charismatic presence and gentlemanly qualities effortlessly dismantled any barriers between him and his female subordinates. His eyes, heavy with lust yet filled with admiration, lingered on the restrained First Lieutenant.

"My dear Elaine," he began, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers cascading down her spine. "This promotion is not merely a result of your hard work. It is a testament to the remarkable woman you've become, to your relentless dedication, your unwavering courage, and your exceptional spirit. You have made me prouder than words can express.”

His calloused hands, toughened from years of military service, reached out to tenderly stroke her face. His index and middle fingers gently brushed against Elaine’s lips, to which she responded by sucking on them, swallowing them whole. Elaine slightly raised her head, her eyes locked onto Pike’s, burning with insatiable desire. She proceeded to move her head back-and-forth along Pike’s fingers, lubricating them with her saliva while making wet, slobbering noise.

Pike slowly pulled his fingers away from Elaine’s ravenous mouth. Elaine let out a loud gasp as the last inches of Pike’s fingers left her glistening, glossy lips, covered in subtle pink lipstick. With barely enough time to close her lips, Pike swooped in to embrace her lips, locking in voracious kisses. Elaine reciprocated as she greedily returned the favor, seemingly impatient from the build-up, causing the chains keeping her suspended mid-air to rattle loudly.

Elaine, despite being a lesbian, has never been able to resist any debauchery sessions with the Colonel. The prospect of being objectified, toyed with, and passed around in the barracks during raucous, unrefined sessions with the Army grunts was far less appealing than surrendering to a gentleman who respected boundaries and consent. Moreover, Pike possessed a refined taste for kink that always piqued Elaine's interest, a magnetic pull that inevitably lured her back into his arms.

“My dear, your promotion is incomplete without a ceremonial keepsake, a memento that I hope you will hold dear beyond your military service.”

Colonel Pike caressed Elaine’s left foot, his fingers tenderly tracing the backseam of her stockings, causing her to reel in arousal. His index finger slipped into the tight space between her Achilles heel and the high heel’s counter. With a swift motion, he removed the shiny high heel from Elaine’s foot, causing the shoe to clatter loudly as it fell to the floor.

“It’s a pity that you’re bound by the dress code with regards to heel heights you’re permitted to wear. The empowered woman that you are should not be held back by such constraints. Effective immediately, you have the liberty to wear heels of any height, provided they’re patent-black.”

Without wasting any time, Pike divested her other foot of its high heel. He scooped up the heels and vanished from Elaine’s line of sight, seemingly taking a package out of a metal drawer.

Returning in front of Elaine, Pike revealed a pair of six-inches stiletto with two-inches platform. Elaine was captivated by the high heels. The high-gloss patent-black polyurethane leather reflected the seductive glow from the lights inside the room. Not escaping her attention were the soles, a scandalous bright red, creating a stark contrast against the deep black of the leather.

"These high heels, Lieutenant, will be a part of your new uniform, starting today.”

Pike slipped the stilettos onto Elaine’s immobilized feet. The steeper incline of the high heels sent a strain through her calf muscles as they adjusted to the new posture. However, the plush padded interior of the shoes embraced her foot like a second skin, offering her a sense of luxurious comfort. Pike proceeded to wrap black leather cuffs around her ankles. His fingers artfully threaded a strap through the keyhole of the cuffs, looping under Elaine's arched heel, and cinching it tight on the opposite side.

The sound of metallic click from the gold-plated padlock ensured that the cuffs will not be unbound, securing the stiletto to remain unseparated from their new owner’s foot, for as long as the keyholder desired. The golden padlocks adorned each of Elaine’s ankles like a jewelry, impossible to ignore, ensuring that every gaze would be drawn to their presence.

“When you return to the festivities tonight, you will take your time to familiarize yourself with your new stiletto. You will remain on your feet as long as possible to mingle with your fellow servicemembers. Your keys would be safe with me.”

Elaine's heart raced with excitement as she realized Pike’s intent to parade her, displaying her bondage predicament in public, asserting his dominance over her.

From the same shoebox, Pike drew forth a delicately crafted, gold-plated butt plug, measuring nine centimeters in length. Its circular base, embellished with US Army Insignia, was at least four centimeters in diameter.

“I have high hopes that at every official US Army functions, you will proudly wear this plug.”

Pike rotated the ring around the base, causing the butt plug to open its pear-shaped tip, expanding its cross-section to twice its original size. As the plug reached its maximum aperture, a soft click from the internal mechanism secured its engorged shape, preventing the tip from closing back down.

Colonel Pike extracted a circular keyfob from his right trousers’ pocket. With a gentle tap against the base of the butt plug, the magnetic locking mechanism gave way, allowing it to contract to its original size. He presented the butt plug to Elaine's parted lips. She welcomed it with a fervor, her tongue swirling around the cool surface, drenching it in her warm saliva. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before the butt plug made its journey inside her orifice, she went above and beyond in lubricating it for her own benefit.

“That’s my good Lieutenant”, Colonel Pike smiled as he watched Elaine lavishing the plug with her mouth. Her eyes were closed, her mind was swimming in fantasy realm, her head was performing a rhythmical fellatio like a professional.

Gently, Pike withdrew the plug from Elaine’s eager mouth, her saliva gleaming on its surface. He playfully circled its tip around her expectant anal opening. With a gentle rocking motion, he gradually inserted the lubricated plug, causing the pleasurable sensations from the anal intrusion to ripple through Elaine's body. Then, just as he had demonstrated earlier, Pike began to rotate the ring at the base of the plug. Elaine gasped in a mix of discomfort and arousal as the butt plug slowly expanded inside her. Her moan amplified as Pike continued to rotate the ring. It wasn’t long until it finally locked in place, fully expanded inside Elaine’s body, preventing its unauthorized removal. Pike went on to attach a pair of chiming bells to the plug. Their delicate jingle would serve as an announcement of her presence, certain to attract the curious attention of any passersby.

PFC Earhart had been keenly observing the entire scene unfolding before her. As the golden plug was carefully inserted into and expanded inside Elaine's orifice, she knew how delightful the feeling was, as she herself was sporting the same design beneath her uniform. The sensation of the plug expanding within, held in place by the firm grip of her rectal muscles, was an intimate pleasure she was well acquainted with. Being a good record keeper, she was fully aware that Elaine was the fourth woman to whom Colonel Pike had given this unique gift, with herself being the first.

Colonel Pike fixed his gaze on Elaine, his hands cradling her head with a gentle touch, being careful to leave her meticulously fashioned bun untouched. He whispered into her left ear, eliciting a consenting nod from Elaine in the process. Pike's right hand trailed behind Elaine, his fingertips tracing patterns on her back, sending shivers down her spine. His left hand gravitated towards her right breast, a provocative mound of flesh beautifully framed by her well-tailored uniform jacket. He began to seductively fondle her breast, being careful not to snap her name tag off her jacket. Elaine was glad she chose to wear a wireless, soft lace-cup shelf bra beneath her uniform, as the thin material transferred most of the Colonel’s touch sensation to her already aroused nipples. The soft lace of her cups heightened the sensitivity of her nipples, allowing her to savor external stimuli even through two layers of thick uniform fabrics, driving her wild. The bra's wireless design allowed her breasts to sway and bounce lightly as Pike indulged himself.

Seemingly satisfied with the newly-promoted First Lieutenant’s breast, Pike’s hand traced the curve of her slender waist with his hand, appreciating the artful tailoring of her uniform that accentuated her feminine allure. His hand wandered lower, feeling the strip of naked skin left bare by her hitched-up skirt. He played with the delicate stocking tops, pulling teasingly at the garter straps that connected them to her blouse. He intentionally avoided the center of her desire, instead choosing to graze the surrounding skin, driving her to the brink of anticipation.

Pent-up with frustration, Elaine began to writhe in her restraints, wiggling her hips hoping that her labia would brush against Pike’s hand. Noticing this, Pike swiftly retracted his hand, giving her a disapproving look. He moved behind Elaine, his hands delivered swift bare-hand spankings to each of her naked butt-cheeks, causing the chains suspending her to rattle loudly in response. Her provocative moans grew louder with each impact.

After a short respite, Pike held Elaine's thigh to correct her misaligned suspension, repositioning her so that her body was displayed parallel to the video camera's field of view. This angle perfectly highlighted Elaine's arousal, her intimate area glistening with the unmistakable sheen of desire. Standing behind Elaine, Pike had unrestricted access to explore every inch of Elaine's body, tightly encased in her green Class A Uniform.

“Face the camera, Lieutenant!” Pike ordered, to which Elaine obediently complied. As before, his hands deliberately avoided the one area she yearned for his touch the most, intensifying the sweet agony of anticipation. She could feel the heat pooling between her thighs as her vagina became wetter by the second.

Pike pressed his body closer to Elaine, with his hands expertly cradling the fullness of Elaine’s breasts. The sound of their uniforms rubbing against each other in intimate proximity sent waves of arousal through Elaine. To her, the thrill of intimate encounters where all participants were clad in military uniforms always intensified the excitement, a layer of propriety concealing the forbidden underneath. Pike knew her weak spots well, skillfully exploiting them to seduce the openly-lesbian Lieutenant, transforming the modest woman she always portrayed herself as into an uninhibited nymphomaniac. Echoes of soft gasps and sexually-suggestive murmurs escaped her lips as she surrendered to her escalating sexual desires.

PFC Earhart had been feverishly observing the erotic scene unfolding from across the room. Her nimble fingers danced on the camera’s touchscreen. Guided by a state-of-the-art object tracking system, she flawlessly zoomed and panned the camera, ensuring it captured every detail of Elaine's impassioned display. She paid special attention to capturing Elaine's expressions. As her head tossed back, a sultry moan escaped her lips as Pike's lips ravished her slender neck, constricted within the confines of her green blouse's stiff collar. Earhart was equally fascinated by the rhythmic sway of the bells affixed to the golden plug nestled within Elaine's rear, their chiming resonating within the rattle of chains keeping her suspended mid-air, as Elaine's body writhed in ecstasy.

In a situation where the boys in the barracks would have lost their inhibitions and succumbed to their primal desires, Colonel Pike stood before her steadfast with his full uniform still intact, exhibiting amicable self-control that drove Elaine over the edge. Satisfied watching Elaine’s begging for more actions, he pushed his hips against her butts. Elaine could feel the tent-pole behind his trousers, hard, loaded, and ready for actions.

But the Colonel preferred to take it slow, as finally he decided to give Elaine’s vagina some attention. Like an expert harp player, he began toying with her clitoris and labia with both his hands. His fingers circled around, plucking and sliding in and out around her intimate organ, occasionally teasing the clitoris. His fingers knew all too well of Elaine’s sensitive spots as she approached closer and closer to climax. He knew exactly when to adjust his tempo, keeping her just by the edge of climaxing, yet cruelly withholding the ultimate reward from her.

In a situation where the boys in the barracks would have succumbed to their primal instincts, Colonel Pike remained steadfast with his full uniform intact, no hint of disarray in sight. This level of discipline, his display of power to restrain himself, stirred something inside Elaine. It was then that he pressed his hips against her exposed labia, finally permitting her to briefly indulge in the firm bulge, frustratingly concealed behind his trousers — the hard, loaded, and throbbing promise of the pleasure that she yearned for. Yet, he maintained his maddeningly slow pace, his tease never ending.

Finally, as if granting her a merciful reprieve, he turned his attention to her center of pleasure. His fingers danced over her overly-sensitive folds, weaving in and out, plucking and stroking her like a finely tuned instrument. Each touch was precise, provoking the most intense pleasure, leaving her at the Colonel’s mercy. He alternated between teasing her swollen bud and plunging his fingers deep inside her. His expert control kept her teetering on the edge, the precipice of climax within sight but just simply out of reach, leaving her suspended in a state of blissful torment.

Just as Elaine was about to reach her climax, Pike pulled away abruptly, moving in front of her to savor the sight of her ordeal. Denied from sexual relief, Elaine thrashed wildly within her restraints, her body writhing in a futile attempt to find the stimulation she so desperately craved. As she squirmed and strained against her bonds, the chains holding her aloft jangled loudly, their unyielding grip reminded her of their thwarted desire.

Pike retreated to stand by PFC Earhart's desk, purposefully leaving Elaine suspended in her heated anticipation, forcing her to cool down. With her looming climax abruptly halted, Elaine’s vagina involuntarily released a fresh wave of glistening fluids, deliciously dripping onto the wooden floor beneath her. Feeling defeated, Elaine screamed at Pike’s direction, pleading for mercy. Pike reveled in his skills, honed over decades of practice, in bringing any woman to her knees. Successfully conquering a lesbian such as Elaine greatly stroke his ego.

Pike unzipped his trousers. Just like the other two women in the room, despite being a requirement by the US Army uniform regulation, lower-body underwear had somehow become optional on this ceremonial day. Unlike civilian trousers, his had a zipper line that extended towards the bottom of his crotch, allowing him to perform bodily functions quickly without completely taking off his uniform trousers.

Pike's aroused member emerged from his uniform, slipping through the zipper opening with ease, revealing a petite phallus. A pair of smooth, hairless orbs accompanied his erect manhood, framed enticingly by his jacket. He approached the immobilized First Lieutenant, positioning himself by her entrance, allowing just the tip of his hardened shaft to teasingly touch against her swollen folds. Elaine’s hips involuntarily buckled forward in an attempt to ceremoniously welcome the invading member. But Pike firmly grasped her butts, his fingers teased the pear-shaped butt plug securely nestled inside her orifice, denying her the satisfaction she sought.

Pike moved sideways behind Elaine’s right leg, expertly hoisting it over his right shoulder, allowing the camera to capture such compromising position in its full glory. He took command of her movements, his manhood teasingly brushing against her entrance, yet purposefully avoiding full penetration. He was deliberately tapping her sweet dew of arousal, ensuring sufficient lubrication, preparing his phallus to embark for its final conquest.

To Elaine, the subtle tease of Pike’s hardened manhood brushing against her was better than the absence of attention, a small but welcome respite from the aching emptiness within her. Each gentle caress stirred an intoxicating anticipation that made her tilt her hips to welcome her ultimate reward.

After what felt like an eternity, Pike's arousal finally slid into her, jolting her back into consciousness. His small girth, smaller than the average phallus she had had to endure in the barracks, allowed her to savor every inch of it as he filled her inside. His well-lubricated shaft moved effortlessly within her, thanks to his meticulous teasing, hitting spots within her that caused her fingers and toes to curl in bliss. The squelching sounds of each stroke mixed harmoniously with Elaine's moans. The fully-blossomed pear-shaped butt plug embedded deeply inside her rear passage amplified the sensation of Pike’s member inside her. Working in tandem, the tip of his phallus moved in synchrony against the metal flange, stroking her erogenous perineum.

PFC Earhart intensely watched the forbidden intimate scene unfolding between two uniformed servicemembers through the camera screen. Each frame painted an explicit portrait of Elaine's body, elegantly suspended by a series interconnecting chains and metal rods, with her legs provocatively spread out. The verdant Class A US Army uniform adorning her body was interrupted only by her bare, flushed sex, with Pike’s engorged shaft buried deep within.

A flicker of envy ignited within the Private as she observed the First Lieutenant, utterly immobilized, yet shuddering in the throes of pleasure. Her own movements were significantly hindered by the unyielding one-bar prison with its stationary phallus deeply lodged within her. As Colonel Pike's hands playfully explored Elaine's full breasts, PFC Earhart found her own fingers tracing a similar path over her body, fantasizing they were the Colonel’s hands roaming over her crisp Class A green uniform jacket. She rhythmically gyrated her hips, despite their limited freedom of movement, back and forth to stimulate her impaled vagina.

Pike subtly adjusted Elaine's restraints, angling her body forward towards the camera and lowering her a touch, lowering her slightly. This new position allowed Pike's modest endowment to delve deeper into Elaine's depths while also enhancing her voluptuous silhouette in the camera's view in the process. With his arousal remaining buried within her, his hands undid the buttons of her dark green jacket, slowly revealing more of the lighter green regulation blouse underneath. The blouse, despite its thickness, failed to conceal the contour of the lace bra underneath. Its custom tailoring perfectly accentuated Elaine’s heaving bosom, her taut nipples straining against the fabric, begging for attention.

"Private!" Colonel Pike sternly addressed PFC Earhart.

"Yes... Yes, sir!" PFC Earhart responded, her voice laced with evident arousal. She deftly adjusted the camera's focus, zooming in to capture the view of Elaine's upper torso, her waist nipped in by the firm grip of her skirt's waistband. With her jacket open, Pike cradled the hidden treasures, his palms gently kneading the soft mounds straining against the constraints of her military-issue blouse.

PFC Earhart carefully scanned the camera feed to ensure enough contrast was available to capture the detail of Elaine's bejewelled nipples. Pike's skilful fingers began to tweak her hardened nubs, adorned with permanently locked piercings, causing Elaine to moan in delightful pain.

Earhart signaled Pike an “OK” gesture. She panned the camera to capture Elaine’s lower body, focusing on her womanhood, framed in mouthwatering contrast by her dark green skirt and her nude stockings. The shiny welts of her stockings, pulled tightly by the garter straps leading up to her hitched-up skirt, served only to further highlight her alluring charm.

Pike’s shaft thrust forcefully in and out of Elaine’s slit like a well-oiled drilling apparatus. Elaine's body bucked and strained against her restraints, her fingers gripping the chain that bound her wrists to the overhead bar, a telltale sign that her climax was approaching. Pike held the power to guide her to a mind-shattering orgasm, or deny her the satisfaction she craved, a predicament that had happened many times before.

As her eyelids dropped, the moment finally came, a blinding white luminescence flashed before her mind. A raw and uninhibited cry of bliss reverberated from her lips, echoing throughout the confines of the room and beyond, likely reaching the ears of other patrons. Every muscle of her nether regions convulsed in a rhythmic dance of pleasure, causing Pike to explode inside her, flooding her depths just as she herself burst forth in a torrent of ecstasy.

Elaine's consciousness was abruptly thrust three years forward. As her eyelids fluttered open, she discovered herself laid bare on a medical apparatus, bearing a striking similarity to a contemporary birthing chair. Her wrists were bound above her head, her thighs tethered to each extreme of the chair, her legs obscenely spread wide apart.

As Elaine's eyes adjusted to the glaring brightness of the pristine white walls surrounding her, she became acutely aware of the multitude of electrodes attached to her body. Two were affixed to her temples, another two clung to her neck, and an additional eight plastered on her breasts. Her nipples were visibly more protruding than usual, stretching against their locking piercings, eliciting a heightened state of arousal. As her gaze wandered further down her body, she perceived an unfamiliar absence of her chastity belt, usually a constant companion in her self-enforced restraint. The feeling of vulnerability rapidly engulfed her.

She found an additional four electrodes on her lower torso, with a half-dozen more strategically placed around her intimate area, and the last two clinging to the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Most intriguing of all was the solid metallic intruder, its presence unmistakable inside her, held securely in place by a rigid metal rod. Her nether region was noticeably wet, leaking vaginal fluids all over her seat, a damning evidence of her arousal. As she attempted to adjust her seating position, the phallic device inside her vagina struck the metallic butt plug in her orifice, reminding her of its presence.

Elaine’s attempt to move her hands was greeted by the rattling of the short chains holding her limbs in place. As she was about to panic, she heard clicking of stiletto heels outside, rushing towards her.

“Miss Elaine, please don’t panic," the person behind her walked through a curtain wall, closing it again as she entered.

It was Anastasiya, Dr. Natasha’s personal assistant. She held Elaine’s bound arms, attempting to comfort her. She was dressed in a pristine white lab coat. Left unbuttoned, Elaine could see her signature tightly-fitted black high-waisted pencil skirt, paired with a white ruffled blouse buttoned all the way to the top. Elaine drew in a shaky, aroused breath as Anastasiya reached out to unfasten her arm and ankle restraints.

“Welcome back, Miss Elaine.”

“It’s totally okay to feel disoriented. It’s a natural part of the process. We were conducting tests on your compatibility with The Catalyst. The device inside your genitalia is a dormant Catalyst. We will remove that momentarily to test its viability after four hours of test run…”

“I’ve been unconscious for four hours?” Elaine interjected.

"Yes, Miss Elaine. You should have experienced a few erotic visions in your dream, some of them may be imaginary, others were direct memory recalls. Among them, one of them had propelled you to peak pleasure, triggering the orgasm that violently stirred you awake. Please relax your body, I'm going to remove The Catalyst."

Anastasiya pressed a button on Elaine's right armrest, causing the metallic invader penetrating Elaine’s womanhood to rotate counter-clockwise, withdrawing from her. Inch by torturously slow inch, a glistening cylinder emerged from her depths, leaving Elaine a bizarre feeling of emptiness within her.

Ana detached The Catalyst vial from the supporting rod and secured it in a hermetic container. "There's a clean towel, a bathrobe, and a pair of slippers in the closet to your left. Please put them on and follow me. We'll observe the test result together in the next room. Don't worry about the drips, but please be careful where you step."

Elaine gradually rose from the chair, taking care to avoid the pool of her own arousal. She made her way to the nearby closet. Reaching for a towel, she used it to dab away the glistening beads of sweat that clung to her curves, wiping away the dewy evidence of pleasure between her thighs. Slipping into a plush bathrobe, she cinched it tightly around her waist, longing for the constricting grip of her chastity belt around her waist.

"If you prefer your own footwear, it's in the other closet," Ana suggested, as though reading Elaine's thoughts. Elaine found her modern blue Class A Army Service Uniform hanging neatly in the other closet. A set of lingerie was neatly folded on a shelf above—her usual lace bra and a pair of fully-fashioned stockings. On the shelf below, she found her chastity belt and her red-soled stilettos. Elaine reached for the high heels, uniting them with her feet, their familiar forms fit each other like a lover’s caress. Poised in her towering stilettos, she followed Ana to the control room beyond the confines of her ward.