Dash bounced on the hard metal bench as the vehicle she was in hit a pothole. The chains clanked against the seat, ran through a ring welded to the edge, and back up to her cuffs. Despite the uncomfortable pain in her ass, Dash couldn’t do more than slide forward or back a few inches to relieve the pressure. For the entire ride out to the facility, which was considerably remote, she had been chained to the metal bench with only another guard for company. Perhaps Dash would have had something interesting to discuss with the guard, were she not muzzled by tight leather straps and a thick shaped leather patch that sealed over her mouth and nose, leaving only a small opening for air.
The guard showed little interest in her, focusing instead on a small handheld device which emitted the faint sounds of music and beeping. The comfort of his prisoner was of little concern as it was unlikely Dash would be in a position to file a complaint. She wished he would at least glance her way and feign interest in her, treat her like a pony, but even that was beneath him.
Her judgement had come as a shock, jarring Dash out of her denial that such a sentence for her crime would be carried out on one as famous as her. Perhaps if she had heeded the advice of her legal counsel earlier in the trial she would have plead out, now she had scant time for regret on her way to serve a fifteen year sentence at a maximum security facility.
She strained to look out the heavy grate covering the two small windows on the back of the van, noting each ray of sunlight that shone through onto the grey corrugated floor. Dash hoped to see some sign of the outside world to carry with her into what might as well be her grave, deep underground in a vault few ponies returned from. The engine had a soft purr to it that threatened to make her fall asleep, and there was little air circulating through the compartment. Indeed, Dash mused, it would be easier to fall asleep and pass the rest of the ride in peace than to torment herself like a caged animal desperately looking beyond the bars at a freedom she would never know again.
Her ears perked up at a familiar sound, the driver and his passenger, both guards for the storage company, were speaking again in tones hushed by the metal separating them.
”Probably, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t remember.”
The rattling of her chains easily drowned out their conversation, and Dash cursed her luck as she tried to pull the chains taut to prevent the rattling.
”—a mess after only five years, can’t imagine fifteen.”
”The methods have improved, she’ll know nothing but arousal and torment—”
Squealing filled the compartment causing the other guard to look up from his game, wondering what had caused them to come to a stop. After several long seconds the truck lurched back and the squealing stopped. Outside they had reached a checkpoint, surrounded by double-layered fencing and deep in a forest. It was here that a small nondescript building stood, having neither windows nor decoration. It was a flat one story box, surrounded by fencing and a single short driveway to the guard post and only point of entry and exit. Little sunlight made it through the thick canopy of the trees down to the ground.
Dash nearly lost her balance, having nothing to brace against but her chained cuffs, when the truck suddenly lurched forward past the guard post. It soon stopped in front of the building and the guard riding with her stood up, walking over to her. She was suddenly overcome with fear and adrenaline, looking at the rear door and then the guard. This would be her only chance to escape before a fifteen year sentence, one that might as well have lasted a lifetime, was imposed upon her. Here, in the middle of nowhere surrounded by guards and forest in every direction, was her last chance to make a break for freedom.
Yet, as she looked up at the burly stallion, she couldn’t find the courage to move. He unfastened her cuffs from the bench and attached them to the chains around her legs before the rear of the truck opened up. He yanked her up and pushed her towards the exit. Dash stumbled out of the back, landing on the ground and falling to her knees. She looked up into the leaves towards the sun, which stung her eyes harshly causing them to water. This was the last time she would look up on the sky a free mare, and what little sky she could see seemed gray and drained of color.
The guards spoke but the words were lost on her as they lifted her up and walked her towards the black door. It stood out against the gray box of a building, a portal to an underground compound which no pony save those who worked there could even begin to imagine. What little Dash did know of it was mostly rumours and tales told to frighten others into behaving.
According to rumor, this facility had been built to preserve ponykind from some great calamity, the likes of which had not been seen since Wendigos had almost wiped out the three races. What the calamity was none could say, perhaps war with the Changelings and their fearsome weapons that could suck the life out of a town and leave every building fully intact. Dash mused that perhaps a great meteor would fall from the sky obliterating Equestria, and only by digging down deep into the dirt did they plan to avoid such a fate.
Whatever the reason, the facility was impenetrable, inescapable, and unfathomable. Once the calamity was averted, Celestia had a huge and expensive compound that wasn’t making any money and never one to waste things, it had been repurposed to house the worst of the worst criminals and use up minimal space and energy in the process.
Dash turned to look behind her as the door to the facility closed and the fluorescent lights took over for the sun. Even this harsh unnatural light on white tile floors was one Dash wanted to burn into her memory, for she knew it was unlikely she’d see outside her cell for the next 15 years. She wished she’d paid more attention to ponies who had been sent here and returned. Most said they’d gone mad, their minds so addled that after they were released on parole they begged to be let in. Others said they returned mute, unable to utter a word so long as they lived for the horror of what had happened here.
It had proved an excellent deterrent to crime, one Dash had ignored. Inside the gray box, as some ponies affectionately called it, was a small waiting room, two elevators, a stairwell, and a guard post. Had she been less shocked and paying more attention she might have noticed the small directory on the guard’s desk. Below her were the barracks, galley, armory, medical, maintenance areas, and morgue.
When Dash got into the elevator she saw an unusual panel in place of the floor numbers. There was a tall line of small lights next to depth markings in increments of a thousand feet. The current floor was at the top designated as ground level, and each stop below that had a numbered designation of a rest area. As the elevator started moving down a red light followed their progress on the panel. If the elevator broke down it would move to the nearest thousand foot marker, where they could reach the stairwell, a phone, and a small cache of food and water.
The light sped up to match their descent and any thoughts of escape seemed to get further and further away. It wasn’t until the 25th floor, which was five miles below the surface, that the elevator stopped. Connected to the surface by 37,500 steps and two elevators operated and monitored remotely by guards, Dash and the other prisoners here were as far away from the population of Equestria as it was possible to get without launching the whole lot of them into the sun.
The door opened to the smell of chlorine and white tiles and walls. It was as if she had stepped out into a hospital and not a tomb.
“Oh, you must be Dash, I’m so excited to meet you.” A unicorn wearing a labcoat rushed over to meet the guards, one of whom stopped him before he could shake her shackled hand. “Yes, of course, it’s not every day we get someone so famous down here.”
“I’m afraid she’s not in a talkative mood,” the guard stated with a tap on her muzzle. “It’s for the best.”
“I suppose you won’t be wanting a little time alone with this one before the process then?” the doctor asked, glancing at both who gave small shakes of their head. “Very well, normally we’d ask you a few questions but your paperwork has already been filled out Dash. Before we can head down to deep storage, you need to be sanitized.”
Dash tried to say something, the faint mumbling quickly reminding her that she could not. She squirmed a bit and was gripped harder by one of the guards as they turned her to the side and marched her to an alcove. The guards walked in with her, fastening a chain from the ceiling to her muzzle to limit her ability to run. Once she was secured, the guards began to unbutton and unzip her prison jumpsuit.
The guards wasted no time undressing her, yanking off bits of the jumpsuit anytime she made any motion that could be seen as interfering with the guard’s work. They even removed her cuffs and chains, the first time they’d been taken off in days. Her previous showers had been with the cuffs on, though the muzzle was a new addition. Prisoners were prone to all manner of begging and pleading when carried off to meet their fate which was unduly taxing on the guards.
Once she stood naked and truly free, or as near to it as she would be for the next fifteen years, Dash stretched her arms, legs, and wings. Her tail swished back and forth and she took a step towards the exit of the alcove, only to feel her muzzle yank back hard against her head.
The guards stepped out briefly and walked back in. Dash was so used to being treated like a slab of meat that had the audacity to think it had a mind of its own that she barely fidgeted as they went to work on her. Her ankles were cuffed together on a short chain about six inches long, to an eye bolt in the floor in front of a drain. Her wrists were cuffed and stretched out, attached by chains a foot long to each wall.
The guards retreated out of the alcove to watch. The outward facing wall was made of a clear plexiglass so they could monitor her with the doctor for safety.
She heard a buzzer and tested her new restraints, unable to move more than a few inches in any direction she was forced to stand waiting with her arms outstretched. Pipes creaked and water began to spew out of nozzles built into the tiled walls from multiple directions.
Dash had the distinct impression that soap had gotten into her eyes and closed them, tugging at the chains angrily. The air itself seemed to sting when breathed in, and she blindly moved her face around trying to find a position from which less water would hit her face.
All over her body, the thick coat of small soft cyan fur began to fall out and dissolve. The harsh solution was exfoliating her. Her rainbow mane and tail that she had long taken pride in didn’t last much longer. She could feel the hair falling and hazarded a peek at the floor in time to see the last of the rainbow strands, tattered and disintegrating, pass into the drain.
Her flesh stung, an unnatural pink color turning reddened and irritated. She’d only seen a bald pony once in her life and it was due to an illness, though now through her watery eyes she couldn’t make out any fur or hair attached to her. This made sense given what she knew was coming next, however, she had expected them to treat her with more respect than this. Who she was had washed down the drain, now she really was little more than a hunk of meat ready to be processed and stored.
The water stopped for the most part, and now there were just nozzles on the floor spraying water to facilitate draining the room. An alcove in the ceiling opened and a needle came down towards her arm. Dash tried to pull at the chains and get farther from the needle than the arm could reach. Having anticipated this, her arm backed up into another device that had lowered behind her and clasped around her upper arm, immobilizing it. The needle went into her muscle just above the clamp, injecting her with medications, then both retreated into the ceiling.
Her vision was clear enough now to look behind her and she noticed the guards and doctor were no longer watching her. Dash’s stomach rumbled and she wondered if she looked that awful without her fur. She didn’t have to think long to realize why they had decided to discuss something other than her.
The medicine given to her had been made to void her bowels and bladder, a harsh enema of sorts that could be administered remotely by a mechanical arm and syringe and require no contact from another living being.
Dash felt like her insides were burning as her body purged itself of what little she’d had to eat or drink recently on her prison diet. She felt like she was standing there for hours, though a more accurate estimate would be twenty uncomfortable minutes. The water continued to flow down the drain along with her waste.
There was a sudden influx of ice cold water, rinsing Dash off one last time for good measure. It was a brief torrent, so heavy she felt it run under her muzzle and made her think she was drowning. Bits of fur came out from under the muzzle that had gotten stuck in their earlier. The cold water seemed to settle her stomach, or perhaps the medicine had worn off.
The nozzles switched on and soon a tornado formed in the alcove, hot dry air whirling around her and sucking the moisture off her skin and out of the air. It dried her off fairly completely.
At last, Dash heard the alcove open and the guards walk in. “They always remind me of naked mole rats. She’s one of the first I think I’d still do in this state though, without the fur I can see her well-toned body that much clearer. No wrinkles or fat rolls either.”
“Yeah, it’s a shame she had to go and get herself incarcerated, imagine what riding that for a few hours would feel like?”
“Gentlemen,” the doctor chided. “Let’s hurry this along please, my shift ends soon.”
Dash felt her hands cuffed in front of her, arm muscles sore and aching from being held outward. Her ankle chain was detached from the eyebolt and reattached to the other ankle.
The guards led her out into another room that had several metal rods and a small furnace. Already one of the guards had set a rod in the furnace, letting the doctor and second guard hold Dash steady.
“We brand all prisoners with the length of their incarceration, for your safety,” he snickered. “If someone were to change your sentence length shorter or longer, when you got out you’d have proof of your original sentence. Now, hold still we have to do this twice.”
Dash started to shout in protest, but her muzzle kept the protests to an incoherent mumble. Already the guard was holding the bright red number 15 in the air, walking around behind her. It seemed like she could hear the air sizzling as it touched the iron, and she clenched her muscles in anticipation.
The branding iron moved suddenly to push into the flesh of her right butt cheek. Dash screamed and kicked out her leg, but the guards were ready and she wasn’t able to move enough to escape the brand. The pain was brief and searing, and her eyes watered as Dash cried. She couldn’t feel the burning brand anymore, just the intense pain around the edges where the nerves were still alive.
Her vision was so blurry that she hardly noticed the guard briefly heating the brand back up and walking in front of her. This time they pinned her arms and chest and pushed the brand just above her left breast. The skin was sensitive and the ache in her rear did little to distract her from the new searing hot pain.
Dash felt warm liquid running down her leg onto the floor, still thrashing to escape the iron it almost went unnoticed. When the brand was finally removed she heard a squeak as the guard almost slipped in the puddle, catching himself by grabbing the sleeve of the doctor.
“Look at that mess you cow!” the guard shouted.
“I’m surprised she was able to hold in any through the sanitization process,” the doctor remarked.
“Just for that I’m branding you again, now I have to come back down here and mop this up.”
The guard heated the brand while Dash kicked and thrashed in protest, blaming the guard and not herself for this rough treatment. This was definitely something that was never talked about when these high tech correctional facilities were discussed.
He came back over and without any flourish, jammed the red hot metal into her lower belly right above her clit. Dash nearly jumped out of the Doctor’s arms as he wasn’t gripping her tight enough, and she thrashed from the pain. She didn’t even notice they were done branding her, she was so distracted by the three scorched marks on her skin. The elevator doors were closing by the time Dash had registered that the cleaning and branding were over, and she was on her way back down to be packaged and stored like a slab of meat.
Where the main elevator traverses nearly five miles toward the core of Equestria, a secondary elevator travels downward more like a normal elevator should. Every twelve or so feet constitutes a floor, and from this point five miles down another 25 floors existed. This first floor was sanitation, and in this new elevator Dash could see a variety of floors headed downwards. Most of the floors were just marked as prisoner storage, though some had other purposes such as plumbing, electrical, monitoring, or life support. Dash watched the floor number count downward as they descended. They stopped at the 25th floor down, the lowest level labeled as high security.
The twenty-fifth floor was one big room, and Dash guessed it was at least fifty feet across in each direction. Were her wings not as devoid of feathers as her body was of fur, the tall ceiling of about ten feet would have allowed her to fly around this room for exercise. In the middle were the mechanical devices and displays that monitored every prisoner on this floor and transmitted the data upwards to where it was monitored.
The most shocking to Dash was the lack of apparent prison cells. She had expected something jail-like, bars and tiny cots, stallions cat-calling at her, and perhaps slimey drains. Each wall was a grid of heavy metal doors that looked like they belonged in a morgue. They were stacked five high to the ceiling and fifteen deep from wall to wall, which meant that 300 ponies could be housed on this floor alone and there were at least fifteen floors.
Dash might have marveled more at this if she were given time to think clearly, but while she pondered all of this the guards had already lead her over to the far wall.
“Six left, two down, that’s her. 25-4-06-02.” The doctor pulled the door open and a large tray slid out, which he grasped in his magic to lean against the wall below it. Dash noticed now that every door had a number, and no other identifying mark. She saw a computer display the doctor wheeled over which had that same number, Dash’s new identity, on it. Below that it listed basic information, nothing that would identify her beyond her gender, race, and a brief description that said little more than her fur color and length of her sentence.
The guards were moving again and Dash had to hurry to shuffle over with them to a large frame on which the small bed pulled out of her alcove had been laid. Something pricked her neck and Dash jerked her arms away from the guard to try and reach up to see what it had been. She felt a warmth spread through her body, followed by a tingling as her muscles grew limp and hard to control. With the ease of men who had done this hundreds of times before, they had quickly removed her shackles, and laid the naked pegasus on the gurney.
She wanted to protest, to say something, but found herself unable to do anything more meaningful than move her eyes around. Even now as she wondered what they were doing, Dash could do nothing more than wait in silence to find out first hand.
The guards removed her muzzle, and one of them grinned. He leaned down to kiss her, parting her lips with his tongue to taste her saliva. He pulled back after several seconds and looked at the other guard. “I’ll be the last stallion who can say they’ve kissed Rainbow Dash, unless you’d like to?”
“I’m good, let’s just get this over with.” He pulled open a drawer on the side of the gurney and pulled out a large gag and began to spread a lubricant over it. Dash tried to turn her head to see what he was doing, worried it might be some further advance from the guards. For the first time she knew what it was like to be truly helpless, yet couldn’t resign to her fate. She had a much better idea now what this place was, which rumors were true, and the thought of being sexually teased for years on end was one that excited and scared her.
The guard grabbed Dash’s mouth and moved it around loosening it. He tilted her head back using a small grove on the table to help line everything up, and began to push a large dildo into Dash’s mouth. Her eyes went wide, pupils dilated, in shock at the sheer size of it. She had been with some well-endowed stallions in her time, but this looked more like the large novelty toys one purchased when genuinely curious exactly how large of a toy you could fit inside yourself.
The rubber toy was coated generously in a silicon-based lubricant and stretched her jaw as it slid in. Dash felt it push against her throat and stop, expecting to gag but the paralyzing agent took care of that concern. One guard rubbed Dash’s throat and adjusted her head slightly while the other wiggled the toy, and it resumed sliding in.
To her horror, Dash realized she couldn’t breathe. The toy was so large, stretching even her throat, that no air got past. She blinked her eyes furiously to try and alert the guards, who were paying no attention. She could feel the toy sliding further down, as if it was intent on reaching her stomach, before she felt her teeth slide into a groove and a rubber face guard rest against her cheeks.
She felt a rush of fresh air hit her lungs, not realizing how but grateful for it anyway. A hole in the outer center of the gag ran inside the toy and attached to an opening on the side of the toy, positioned right over her airway. She saw that the breathing tube extended several inches past the front of the toy, and was surprised to see the guard put a finger over it blocking her air and then push down. A moment later Dash could feel something moving in her throat, and inflate against her vocal chords, silencing them until the inflated tube was removed. Though she couldn’t have tried to speak while paralyzed, she would never again know the sound of her voice so long as this gag remained in her.
The guard adjusted Dash’s head, which was now stuck slightly extended upward by the thick dildo gag, feeding, and breathing tube combination that completely filled her mouth and throat. At least it was designed not to stretch her jaws, her teeth now fit snugly into grooves that held everything perfectly in place. Her tongue pushed against a small depression on the underside of the toy, and that small amount of free space was the only movement she’d be able to make once the paralysis wore off.
The guard rubbed Dash’s throat, which now bulged just enough to be visible from the outside. “I always enjoy that part the most, you can feel it right here.” The guard pushed against her throat, motioning to the other guard, “as if she’s stuck deep throating a stallion like a good little slut.”
The doctor shined a light in Dash’s eyes and adjusted something on the front of the gag. “Perfect fit, now we’ve got to do the nose.” The doctor had a small tray with a syringe full of a thick green gel and a blunt tip, and two rubber black stoppers attached by a small bit of plastic to one another.
The doctor handled this part, keeping an eye on Dash’s reaction as he began to inject the gel into her nasal cavity. It was more liquid at room temperature, sloshing around the back of her nose and tickling Dash fiercely. Her eyes watered as she struggled to laugh, squirm, or somehow evade the sensation, but it was useless. She felt an odd sensation as the gel dripped down the small tubes leading to her ears, filling her ears up one drop at a time.
As the gel warmed to body temperature, it became a little more solid, less prone to slosh around or drip back out if Dash was turned over. It was by only the loosest definitions of “not permanent” that this gel was approved for use on inmates. When inmates time was served the gel could be removed, it just took a few months for sense of hearing and smell to return as it ever so slowly came out.
So Dash laid there, amazed by the sensation of this thick gel that now seemed as solid and part of her as her own bones, completely filling her nasal cavity and blocking all sense of smell and hearing. Her eardrum and the bones within were gently, but firmly, encased in gel. The doctor stuck the two small black rubber stoppers into Dash’s nose. They fit perfectly flat against her nostrils, and a small bit of gel was wiped off the nose.
From another drawer a small set of earplugs was pulled out, and the doctor was quick to fill a little gel into each ear canal and stick an earplug in. The plugs, both nose and ear, were designed to adhere to the gel so that they could not fall out on accident. Perhaps they were a bit too effective, themselves being only by liberal definitions easily removable.
Dash had blinked most of the water out of her eyes, seeing that the guards and doctor were talking but unable to hear them. She marveled at the fact that not even the faintest sound could be heard, not even her own heartbeat which seemed to be stolen away by the thick gel. It was so effective that she wondered if that incredibly faint sound was her heartbeat, or just her imagination filling in the blank in a desperate attempt to have something to hold onto.
Her eyes were left alone for now, as small a mercy as she would be afforded here. For the doctor, Dash’s eyes were the only way her could monitor his patient while she was prepared for her prison term.
More roughly than she had been handled so far, Dash was turned over to her side and her left leg pulled up to her chest. She felt someone prodding at her backside and realized a gel was being applied. Dash already felt violated, even before the toy she knew was coming had touched her. The only distraction was a faint tingling as the doctor cast the first of the spells that would be placed on her, this one meant mostly to monitor the insertion of the toy.
He had in his hands a toy that might have horrified her had she seen it, or perhaps excited, for the largest toy they had by far was the rubber snake-like contraption that had been designed to completely fill the pony’s large intestine. Considered rather erotic by some, it was a horror to others, but a necessity for the inmates. The nutrient mixture the inmates lived on produced very little waste, so little that it could be handled almost entirely by the kidneys. The toy and gel would fill her almost completely, leaving just a drain to handle the rest.
Dash winced as the toy was pushed against her rear, the sphincter not as incapable of movement as the other muscles on her body she felt it involuntarily constrict. After waiting a moment for it to relax, the toy began to advance again. The unicorn continued to use his magic to guide the toy, pushing in further until Dash felt so full she would burst.
There was a strange feeling, pressure building and coldness, followed by a wonderful relief. After another cycle Dash realized they were taking care of her needs for her, clearing out the way for the toy, with an enema. She marveled at the concept that anything could possibly remain inside her after her visit to sanitation. Before any solace or enjoyment could come from the nice, almost empty, feeling she felt the toy advanced again.
Dash began to feel like she had feasted at Thanksgiving well past the point a sensible pony would stop, her stomach now felt like she could burst if she tried to bend over and touch her toes. The toy had been inserted completely, nearly three feet of rubber tube coated in lube, and bent into the shape of her intestine.
The doctor had finished inserting the tube and the two guards rolled her onto her stomach. She tried to groan in discomfort, but only succeeded in laying limp as a dead fish on the bed. One of the guards shifted her head and began to line up her wings.
Two thick rubber bags, shaped like diamonds, were laid beside Dash on the table. These wing binders had only one opening at the top, and the guards had to carefully fold and pinch Dash’s wings into small bundles to slide them into the thick rubber. The rubber was lined with small electrodes, wires ran through the rubber to small leads near the opening. Dash thought she felt the difference in the texture of the wing binders but was not sure what it meant.
Once the wings were fully inside the binder, a small tube was attached to each near the openings. A machine whirred and the air was sucked out of the wing binders, the rubber sealing itself around her wings until they were compressed so firmly that with the help of a simple spell, the growing of new feathers would halt completely. Her wings would be preserved, unmoving, as rigidly sealed in rubber as if they were stone wings on a statue. Small electrical currents would pass through them to provide some stimulation to prevent what would otherwise be certain atrophy of the delicate parts of the wing muscles.
Dash marveled at how meticulous they were in their work, wondering how long it had been but having no way to gauge the time. She wondered how easy it would be to lose track of time when they were finished if she couldn’t track it now.
Her thoughts ended as they rolled her back over and spread her legs. Dash had given up on feeling shocked or surprised, quite clear in her mind were the visions of where this was headed. So when the doctor slid a tube into her vagina, she was hardly surprised. It wasn’t until a sharp sensation, deep in her being, brought tears to her eyes.
The doctor and the insidious tube had found her cervix. Not meant as a two-way street, only in pregnancy did the cervix admit passage in one direction. With a little insistence from the practiced doctor, the tube penetrated it and entered her womb. Dash felt a familiar pressure as gel was pumped in, gel that quickly set and became more firm. It left her feeling twice as full as the other toy had, this time as if she had swallowed a turkey whole.
She thought her stomach would burst, and indeed, given the location of her womb and the amount of gel pumped in to fill it, Dash would have seen a bulge as if she were pregnant. Luckily for Dash, she could not see anything but the blurry ceiling lights through her watery eyes. She would have lamented the bulges appearing under her toned athletic body, ruining a figure she had spent years honing to perfection.
If the guards noticed, it only heightened their arousal. Not only were they getting to see this pony lay naked before them, but to watch the interesting ways in which they prepared ponies for decade or longer sentences was better than any bondage movie the two might have rented.
Dash didn’t feel the tube withdraw from her cervix, and it didn’t occur to her that the gel in her womb could only be removed by a similar procedure. It was as solid as any other organ in her body, the same temperature and a permanent fullness she would learn was as natural as any other part of her.
When the doctor slid the dildo in, Dash could for the first time realize the arousal she was feeling. With each procedure, it grew slightly, yet there had been distractions. The pinches, the fullness, the shock, it had all dulled her arousal before. Now, the dildo with its ridges and bumps rubbed against her wet lips. The person inserting it was one of the guards, who had taken the chance to push it in and pull it out several times for his own amusement. In the process, Dash had enjoyed each thrust despite her inability to move.
Once the toy was pushed in, and mercifully left there, the doctor inserted a tube into her urethra that seemed to pinch her in a dozen places at once. It settled in quickly, a bulb inflated, and Dash thought it was done. However, she began to notice a burning and stretching sensation as the double-layered tube inflated. Given her strict confinement, a normal catheter was prone to collapse and block the flow of urine. Her eyes teared up as she was stretched wide open, imagining they were trying to fit a golf ball down into her bladder. The pain stopped but the burning continued, and the bulb was inflated further. She wished desperately to tear the catheter out and end the discomfort. At last the tube was attached to the dildo toy for future use. Through another tube gel pumped into Dash’s vagina, bonding with the dildo and packing yet another of her body cavities full. The toy, the catheter, and Dash’s vagina were now a single piece to be used as deemed necessary throughout her confinement.
Dash huffed through her breathing tube, feeling the horny moans stolen from her throat by the gag. She was helpless to do anything about the unbidden arousal growing in her loins from the more direct stimulation. No sooner had the thought of her clit occurred to her did Dash feel the doctor poke at it. Something rubbery and feeling like a suction cup latched onto the nub, feeling lubricated yet sticking firmly to it. There was a brief faint buzz as it was connected to the dildo from which it would draw power, sending a pulse of warmth through Dash’s body down to her fingertips and toes.
To keep this all the toys and tubes in place and organized, the guards slid a pair of rubber panties up Dash’s legs towards her groin. The doctor sprayed a version of the gel over Dash’s groin, the cold gel hardening almost instantly as they warmed up. The rubber was pulled tightly against it, and the tubes adjusted until Dash couldn’t feel them amidst the rubber and the gel. They would both run out a small hole in the rubber in the back, outside the rubber of the eventual catsuit, to the apparatus monitoring her. All she could feel was the toy and the gel, which seemed to dull her sensitivity somewhat.
It wasn’t until a brief test of the toys that Dash got a taste of what they could do. The large anal toy inside her expanded in waves that rolled from one end to the other. The dildo seemingly thrust and grew without moving, and the suction device over her clit gently hummed and buzzed, able to both vibrate or shock at will.
Dash felt close to orgasm, the inability to move and the sudden stimulation pushing her closer than she might ever get again. It was short-lived, but enough to leave her body warm and to notice muscles twitching as the paralysis slowly wore off.
While she started to flex her fingers she felt the guard on one side and the doctor on the other lifting her arms. They each slid a smooth black rubber mitten onto her hands, quickly trapping both under the thick latex. Her fingers were curled into fists around a small rubber core inside the mitten, which was adjusted with some tugging and twisting by the guards. The mitten fit very tightly but there was no lock, and if she had half an hour she might have worked the mittens off.
Before she realized it, there was a pinch along her calves as a catsuit was rolled up her legs. Hands pushed against the latex smoothing out the wrinkles as it was tugged farther up. She wanted to to ask them to be a bit less rough but so far had only succeeded at wiggling some toes and fingers. Her ability to move wasn’t coming back nearly fast enough to be of any use.
So Dash watched as well as she could from the corners of her eyes, staring down across her bare breasts towards her legs. She felt that the rubber was lubricated, quickly sliding up both legs at once. It was tight enough that she wondered if they had her measurements in advance. They stopped at her hips to adjust the many tubes and toys that ran through the area. The base of her tail, robbed of all the rainbow hair, was inserted into a small rubber pouch.
By the time the catsuit was stretched up to her belly button she realized it had no zippers, being neck entry. The guards smoothed out the rubber over her groin, adding a lot of pressure to the large dildo which seemed to vibrate softly in response. She tried to arch her back and moan, but the faint whistle of air coming out her breathing tube couldn’t be heard.
The guards continued upwards, bringing the catsuit up just above her breasts and stopping to maneuver her arms into the sleeves. Lube was applied to the mittens so they would slide through the sleeves easily. The end of each sleeve was narrow and tightly sealed over the mittens to hide the fact that they were separate pieces.
With her arms in the sleeve the suit almost sealed itself the rest of the way up to her neck as everything fell into place. Now her hairless body had been replaced by a glossy black finish that hugged her every curve so tightly it was indistinguishable from her skin. With the suit coming to just above her collarbone Dash’s ordeal was almost over.
The doctor came back and spoke with the guards, and Dash was left to wonder what they were saying as she tried to read their lips.
“Alright attaching the monitor and orgasm denial collar,” the doctor stated. He clipped the titanium band around Dash’s neck, ensuring a perfect fit. It rested against her flesh just above the rubber. As soon as he attached it, a nearby display on her storage unit on the wall lit up, displaying her vital signs.
Inmate # 99,876
HR 122 RR 24 BP 132/86
Orgasms denied: 0
Days remaining: 5,475
Dash couldn’t notice anything special about the collar, and her world was about to be pitched into darkness as a large rubber hood was prepared for her. The guard stretched the neck wide open and lowered it over her head. The doctor passed the necessary tubes through small openings in the mask and helped seat it properly.
Once the guard let go and smoothed it out, the featureless rubber hood hid the small bulges of her ears and indents of her eyes. Her nose was the only feature prominent enough to stand out. Inside the hood, small rubber pads rested over her eyes, and indents sat around her ears.
Dash managed a small wiggle of her arms and legs in response to her remaining senses being cut off. She couldn’t see, hear, or smell. All that Dash could taste or feel was rubber. She wasn’t sure if the embrace of the tight rubber or the large toy that seemed to be slowly changing sizes inside of her aroused her more.
The guards prepared another table with an oval ring and clear rubber a millimeter thick on it. For bondage uses such thick rubber would be overkill, but for keeping a prisoner firmly trapped for years at a time it was perfect. Dash could only wait in the darkness as they prepared the frame of a vacuum sealed bed for her.
She felt them lift her and move her a short distance, though she couldn’t decipher any other changes. She laid there wondering if she was in her cubicle as the doctor made connections to power, air, and food for her incarceration.
As Dash waited, she noticed a weight on top of her. The top half of the frame was attached to her and the guards went around it, screwing several bolts into the frame to seal the two halves together. She was able to move just enough to realize she was trapped between two sheets of rubber while feeling the faintest vibrations as the guards worked on the frame.
Without the ability to hear, Dash didn’t notice something was off until a weight pressed down on her body. She tried to call out for help but was unable to get enough air. The breathing tube was longer now, and it took her more effort to breathe through it, causing her to feel a bit lightheaded. At the same time the weight was increasing across every inch of her body. It felt like she was pinned under a mattress, and then an elephant. As her imagination ran wild she felt air flow through the breathing tube, a system assisting her to breathe under the pressure.
One of the guards had to adjust his pants to deal with his growing erection at the sight. In front of him under a thick layer of rubber was trapped Rainbow Dash, a perfect figure in tight black latex sealed under clear rubber in an unmoving embrace for the next 15 years. He ran his hands up and down her sides, despite the fact she wouldn’t feel it in the slightest.
With the help of both guards, the doctor was able to lift the frame up to the prison cubby on the wall. It looked more like a drawer in a morgue at first glance, but there was no bed in it. Instead, the frame of the vac bed slid into slots on the side where it was gripped, and then rolled all the way back into the slot in the wall. Dash was suspended by the rubber, part of the reason it was so thick. Inside the hole for about six inches in any direction was empty space, just enough to store one unmoving prisoner and allow them to struggle and squirm for exercise.
As the door closed, Dash was only aware she’d been moved again but didn’t feel the pressure of a table beneath her. She squirmed and wonder what was going on as the toys activated.
Outside only the doctor remained to ensure everything was working and to monitor the vital signs.
Dash could feel the specially crafted catsuit sending small jolts of electricity into her muscles, coaxing her to squirm and flex her muscles. More urgently was the buzzing vibrator in her pussy and ass, both of which seemed to have swollen to twice their original size. At least, it felt that way and Dash had no way to tell from within her rubber cocoon. It built up in speed until she couldn’t ignore it, and then suddenly the toys shrank until she wondered if they could fall out.
She was a bit frustrated by now from all the erotic stimulation involved in her imprisonment, realizing she had years to pace herself and not caring. Dash wanted the toys to swell back up so she could orgasm, and maybe get a little sleep if it was possible. It’d been a long day, but there were more tests to perform.
There was a sudden jerk that moved the metal frame of her vacuum bed very slightly as electrodes shocked her nipples and clit. Small sensations of tingling spread through her body and grew, until she recognized them as electrical shocks of growing intensity. Dash struggled, finding it quite useless at allowing any movement but very helpful in increasing her arousal rapidly. The rubber didn’t seem hot and she hadn’t gotten sweaty, thanks in part to the nearly freezing temperatures around her as the small cell’s air conditioning unit went to work.
Free of any distractions from the outside world, her entire universe existed solely in the sensations of touch she was feeling right now. Her heartbeat was muffled by the gel in her ears, her sight gone, smell and taste almost useless as they quickly got used to the rubber and ignored it. Dash’s only meaningful sensation was swelling up again between her legs, vibrating and sending those buzzing waves through her body.
Dash could tell that she was close to orgasm, and was grateful for it. With all this heavy bondage and these wonderful toys she waited with great anticipation for the toys to grow larger and vibrate more quickly. She was so close to an orgasm that she was already tensing her muscles, hyperventilating as she fought to breathe more quickly and explode into ecstasy.
As she fought for the joy of release, she felt a coolness spread into her body starting at her neck. She didn’t understand it at first, until recalling the collar around her neck. It was cold as ice and quelled the fire in her groin. The toy was still vibrating while growing, shrinking, and even seeming to move, twist, and turn inside her. It was still just as enjoyable, but this sensation from the collar had taken the edge off. The orgasm was gone as if it’d never been near. It felt as distant now as when she’d been riding in the truck to the prison earlier.
Dash tried to groan and thrash in frustration, but the rubber held her tight as it was designed to and her feeble efforts unseen and unknown to the outside world. The doctor smiles as the orgasms denied counter rose to 1. Having seen that his monitors and the toys, crucial to stimulate the prisoners to ensure proper “exercise” were working, the doctor got up and left.
He made a note that prisoner 99,876 was healthy and all systems working well. He pondered the prison was nearing its 100,000th incarceration, and smiled.
Inside the cell was just another prisoner serving a sentence. No longer Dash, she would be known only to the world as 99,876. Until the day she was released no one, save the doctor or guards who could admit a dozen inmates a day, would know who she was. It was better for them to stay detached.
So alone, forgotten, and realizing now with a desperate zeal that she wouldn’t orgasm again for 15 years, Dash waited and cursed the crime she had committed.
Inmate # 99,876
HR 82 RR 14 BP 122/78
Orgasms denied: 2,956
Days remaining: 4,745
Dash imagined what it would feel like to stretch as she awoke from a nap. It was dark, like it always was. She was cramped, like she always was. The rubber and toys were unyielding and unforgiving, like they always were.
It was her way to stay sane that she would imagine she were stretching as she woke up, flexing her muscles in the tight prison that held her body. She knew as soon as the monitor detected her wake the toy would start and it did. Even after all this time, the random cycles were different every morning. Perhaps one toy grew and the other shrank, or both grew, or neither did. Perhaps they would vibrate in a pattern or at complete random.
Dash felt the familiar buzzing, this time a small toy over her clit had sprung to life first rubbing against her nub relentlessly. She ached a bit from trying to toss and turn last night, her dreams having been exceedingly kinky as they often were now. It took a few minutes to recall her count, the only way she had to mark the time. Dash was on day 202 now, having lost track several times before now. In fact, she hadn’t even thought to count how many times she had fallen asleep and woken up until months into her stay, or at least it seemed like months. Dash wasn’t even sure she was only sleeping once per day, perhaps she was taking several short naps a day.
She felt like she was learning about the toys and the collar, however. Dash kept coming up with new ways to try to control her heart rate, breathing, and arousal to trick the orgasm denial collar. If there was anyone around to brag to, she’d have told them she was close, perhaps only hours from fooling it.
As she laid there enjoying the buzzing against her clit, the toy filling her pussy came to life. She bit the gag in her mouth and focused on slow breaths, trying to hide the welling sense of arousal deep inside her beyond the collar’s reach.
As the toy in her ass pushed further and further inside her, she imagined her heart beating slow and steady. Instead of tensing her muscles she relaxed them, forcing the electrodes to come to life and tense them up manually.
Dash tried to ride the edge, never getting to close to orgasm until she could lose all control in a single instant before the collar reacted. It was the only mentally challenging activity she had left to her.
The rubber seemed to tighten around her as she began to fidget and squirm restlessly. She was about as close as she could get to the orgasm and not lose control in a horny rampage to cum hard, but Dash held on knowing the collar would stop her. She needed closer still. The constant denial made her an expert at knowing her limits.
Finally, Dash took a series of actions at once. She tensed her muscles, tried to arch her back, and struggled hard to overload her senses with the many arousing feelings of the kinky prison around her. For a moment she felt the heat in her groin expand, growing so rapidly that she was sure this was what an orgasm felt like. It had been so long that Dash was convinced this was what she was missing.
But before her orgasm truly began, the icy cold collar around her neck sent a wave running through her body, blowing away the arousal and heat in her pussy as if it were a light cloud in a breeze.
Dash sighed and laid back down knowing it was a lost cause, and wondered what she would do today to pass the time.
Inmate # 99,876
HR 82 RR 14 BP 122/78
Orgasms denied: 17,764
Days remaining: 2,277
Dash jerked awake as she overslept, feeling a jolt of electricity run through her body almost as if to check she was alive. She was up to 117 today, which was no longer the number of days she had counted but the number of times she had lost count. After a while, she gave up on counting the passing days and just assumed that each time she lost count she’d probably gotten to 50 or a 100, it was hard to tell. Dash wasn’t even sure how long her sentence had been anymore. One day she swore it was 8 years, another it was 30, it was all she could do to stay sane.
The dildo, which she had taken to calling Soarin, was vibrating again. She mentally talked to it, asking it whether it had slept well and if it had any news of the outside world.
Oh, yeah it’s lovely out today I went for a fly but then I remembered you’d be waking up and I had a job to do! I think we’ll have an orgasm today for sure, I’m almost certain Thunderlane would agree!
Thunderlane, being the toy in her ass, vibrated in response.
Besides you’ll be out of here in a few days tops and of course they’d have to let you orgasm before releasing you!
Dash bit her gag and squirmed happily as she rushed blindly towards an orgasm, only to feel the mysterious cold rush through her body. She couldn’t remember where it came from, maybe the female orgasm really was a myth and that’s why she couldn’t cum. Dash groaned in frustration and her mind quickly wandered back to asking Soarin and Thunderlane if they’d ever banged Spitfire.
Inmate # 99,876
HR 82 RR 14 BP 122/78
Orgasms denied: 35,980
Days remaining: 2
Dash felt good, she loved having her orgasm denied. It felt better than having an orgasm, she was sure of it. The icy cold sensation that flowed over her now felt better than ever before.
It’s so wonderful Soarin, thanks!
She closed her eyes and dreamed of the nice big cock in her mouth.
Inmate # 99,876
HR 82 RR 14 BP 122/78
Orgasms denied: 35,982
Days remaining: indefinite
The doctor sighed as he changed the number of days remaining to indefinite. He had been going around doing so for the past several weeks. A decision at the supreme court based on mares who had been released from incarceration had ruled it was cruel and unusual to unhook them from the devices in the detention center.
Having spent years knowing nothing but constant bondage, orgasm denial, and isolation, the ponies who had finished their sentences hadn’t fared well. Rehabilitation costs were high, at least half had begged to go back into prison, and the other half just committed crimes to force the court’s hand.
It was decided that all non-minor crimes would carry a life sentence, since even a few months in such extreme bondage could turn any mare or stallion into a nymphomaniac. Perhaps lawsuits would arise in time that would argue this method of storing prisoners itself was cruel, but in reality every pony was happier now that their problems were out of sight and out of mind. With such a strict punishment for crime, it'd almost completely been eliminated too, so life sentences in this facility were likely to stay for a long time.
As far as Equestria was concerned, there had only ever been 5 elements of harmony: Kindness, Laughter, Honesty, Generosity, and Magic. The doctor looked up at 99,876 and wondered if the prisoner in there had ever had a family, a lover, friends, or aspirations in life. No one would ever know or care, they had committed a crime and they’re better off here anyway.
He smiled as he finished adjusting the monitors in the rest of the room and went back to the elevator, eager to head home for the day. He’d been working here over fifteen years now and was getting close to retirement. The doctor knew somewhere on this floor was imprisoned Rainbow Dash, an expunged element of harmony whose disloyalty had gotten her erased from history. He knew that he was probably the only pony in Equestria that remembered where she was imprisoned, but all he could remember now was the floor number which didn’t narrow it down much. Without releasing every prisoner here one by one to unlock their personnel records, he’d never known which one it was. All he could hope was that she’d been one of the lucky few to be released by one of the other staff doctors before he had been ordered to increase the sentence on all ponies to life.
