The Analyst
Copyright© 2025 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 19: Intended for Rebecca
“Did you like it?” she asked.
“It was nice,” I replied, feeling uncomfortable as I told my girlfriend I liked her muzzled.
“Would you want me in it—you know,” Becca asked in a hushed and submissive tone. “It would be okay if you did.”
“How did it feel?” I asked, wanting to understand what she felt earlier before answering her question.
Becca took a deep breath and began to explain, her voice reflecting her thoughts. “The posture collar really hugged my neck. But it forced me to slightly look up, and I didn’t realize how good that felt until I heard your voice and realized I was looking up at you.”
I nodded lightly. “What about the blindfold?”
Becca continued, “I couldn’t see what was happening, which made me anxious, but I also felt safe and secure.”
“Okay,” I told her in a gentle voice, not knowing what else to say. “And the muzzle?”
Becca smiled slightly. “Once Michelle tightened it, I couldn’t talk at all,” she explained. “It was so frustrating to communicate only through my stilettos. And the drool—that barista mentioned she drooled in hers, but it didn’t hit home until I was in one myself. I hadn’t realized how much there would be or that it wouldn’t stop. But it was also oddly reassuring, though. So, if you wanted me to wear one, I’d be okay with drooling in front of you.”
She paused, her gaze distant. “I couldn’t help but think about the night after the gala when you had me—” She smiled, “I was so helpless. That’s how I felt in the gag, blindfold, and collar—helpless but also oddly comforted by the sense of being so contained.”
Seeing the emotions etched on Becca’s face, I softly told her we could experiment with a gag. Smiling, Becca stood up. Michelle had offered to help her out of the ballet boots, but Becca declined, saying she was okay. Although she struggled to walk in them, she was now able to balance herself with her arms.
As Becca stood in front of me with her arms around my neck, Michelle walked back into the studio. She had stepped out to get items for the next shoot.
We had already been there for two hours, but Sebastian and Michelle insisted that we could stay. They enjoyed our company and made us feel welcome. Becca was having a wonderful time, and Michelle seemed to be enjoying it, too.
Michelle placed a bunch of items on the table and held up a black leather straitjacket. “We’ll have to see what fits,” she said, “I think this one might work, though.”
Becca walked up to Michelle and admired the jacket. “That’s beautiful,” she said, respecting the stitching, straps, and simple but effective metal buckles.
“It’s hard to find jackets like these unless they’re custom-made,” Michelle offered. “We’re lucky to have acquired this one.”
“Should I change first,” Becca asked.
“That would be best,” Michelle acknowledged. “This jacket will fit like a second skin, but it’s going to feel uncomfortable over that corset.”
“So, maybe change into a bra, garter, and these stockings?” Becca thought aloud.
Michelle nodded, telling Becca that she agreed. She then asked, “Are you sure you don’t want those boots off? It would be easier to move around.”
“Yes,” Becca replied, “they feel fine.”
Michelle smiled, her gaze lingering on Becca with a thoughtful, almost assessing look. “Okay, do you need help getting over to the dressing area?”
“No, I’m okay,” Becca replied.
Michelle and I watched as Becca walked to the other end of the studio, the door closing softly behind her. A minute later, she reappeared, frustrated but amused, calling out, “I might need help unbuckling this corset.”
Smiling, Michelle approached Becca and began undoing the buckles. Becca held it in place with her hands to make sure she stayed covered, then disappeared into the room.
A few minutes later, she emerged wearing a black lace and leather bra, matching panties, a garter, and the stockings she had been wearing.
As Becca made her way back to us, Michelle commented on her ability to walk in the boots. “That’s really remarkable,” she said. “Most girls really struggle to stand, let alone walk.”
Becca smiled and replied, “It’s getting easier ... I think with a bit more practice, I could walk in these fine.”
Michelle smiled, holding up the jacket. “Ready?” she asked Becca, knowing the answer.
Becca slid her hands into the sleeves as Michelle draped the jacket over her shoulders, pulling it closed behind her. Starting at Becca’s concealed hands, Michelle began to massage the leather sleeves toward Becca, ensuring that her hands and arms were utterly and snugly encased. Once the sleeves were secured, Michelle stood behind Becca, pulling the jacket tightly closed and zipping it up.
“How is that?” Michelle asked.
Becca stood in the ballet heels, zipped into the leather straight jacket. It fit unbelievably tight. The jacket’s constraining design made it difficult for Becca to move her arms, as the numerous straps and buckles were cumbersome. The leather pressed against her body, emphasizing the restrictive nature of the garment. Becca shifted slightly, feeling the snug pressure of the jacket’s confines. At the same time, the ballet heels added an additional challenge to her balance and movement.
“Definitely hugging,” Becca replied with a smile.
“Okay,” Michelle said. She then tightly buckled all the straps behind Becca, securing the jacket. As Michelle pulled the straps, Becca winced but appeared to be okay.
“And now?” Michelle inquired again.
Becca attempted to reach around but quickly realized she couldn’t use her hands. “Wow,” she said. “It’s not even completely on, and I already feel helpless.”
“I’m going to do your arms next. Is that okay?” Michelle asked.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” Becca replied.
Michelle gently guided Becca’s arms across her waist and through the additional straps stitched onto the jacket. Her arms were threaded through three straps in total: two on her sides and one in front. Michelle then walked around Becca, grabbing the straps attached to her hands and buckling them behind her, feeding them through additional straps attached to the jacket in the back. As she tightened the straps with one hand, she gently supported Becca with her other, pulling the straps as tight as possible. This adjustment forced Becca’s arms into a very fixed and immobile position.
“How is that?” Michelle questioned the tightness.
“Snug,” Becca said as she tried to move around.
But Michelle could see that Becca could still move a bit. “It can go tighter if you want,” she offered.
“Yeah, I think that would be better,” Becca replied without hesitation.
Michelle signaled to me, “Ben, did you see what I was doing?”
“I did, yeah,” I said.
“I need you to gently pull Becca’s arms together,” she instructed.
I gently reached around Becca and brought her elbows closer together and her arms closer to her waist, as Michelle had done. Once she saw that Becca’s arms were tightly constrained and couldn’t move, Michelle pulled the straps and fastened the buckle even tighter in the back.
“And now?” Michelle asked, much happier with the adjustment.
Becca tried to move her arms but couldn’t. “I can’t move—at all,” she said with exasperation and contentment.
Michelle then reached down and began to buckle the two straps in place, pulling each snugly against Becca’s thighs.
“This straitjacket has two straps?” Becca asked curiously. “The ones I’ve seen usually have just one.”
“Yeah, you’re thinking of the white ones made of canvas material,” Michelle said, understanding what Becca was referring to.
“Uh-huh,” Becca replied. “Those are the ones.”
“They’re called Posey straightjackets,” Michelle explained. “They’re typically used in medical settings—or at least they were. Those are the ones you usually see in movies. They have one strap. This jacket, and others like it, are designed for different reasons and have two.”
“Other reasons?” Becca inquired.
Michelle nodded with a mischievous smile. “The two straps offer easy access and can be a lot of fun in certain situations,” she said. “And when paired with the right gag or hood and leg restraints, the experience can be beyond restricting but amazingly pleasurable.”
Becca’s eyes lit up. Seemingly reading Becca’s thoughts, Michelle quietly whispered, “We have one of these at home. Sebastian puts me in it when my anxiety gets bad—it helps calm me.” She smiled at Becca. “It’s also fun for other things. After we’re done with the shoot, there’s a canvas jacket in the back with two straps. We’ve never been able to use it because it’s so small, but it might fit you,” Michelle said with a smile.
Raising her voice slightly, she added, “Ready for the hood?”
Becca nodded in agreement, but she was distracted by Michelle’s comment about her use of a straitjacket. She had to quickly refocus, though, as Michelle stood behind her and gently pulled the hood over Becca’s head, carefully tucking her hair into an informal ponytail.
The mask was lined with supple leather on the inside. The eye openings were just large enough to highlight Becca’s beautiful, big eyes. And it fits remarkably well, positioning over her nose and exposing her nostrils perfectly. But it didn’t have an opening for the mouth.
Michelle then folded over a leather flap in the back of the hood, which seemed designed to protect Becca’s hair. She then tightly laced it up. The result was a contoured hood that appeared to be designed for Becca.
“How does it feel?” Michelle asked.
“Gud—reely snug, lyk thiz jaket, but kumftrbl,” Becca replied, her voice muffled. It was clear that she was talking with her mouth closed.
Michelle then pulled the collar of the straitjacket over the bottom of the hood and buckled the last strap. This created a seal, making the jacket and hood appear like a single, integrated piece.
“How about now?” Michelle asked again.
“Gud,” Becca replied, exploring her range of movement with the jacket’s collar now buckled.
Michelle led Becca to the photo area Sebastian had just finished setting up. I watched as Michelle gently guided Becca through the shoot. Given that Becca was confined in a straitjacket, Michelle’s assistance was crucial in achieving the desired poses. With expertise, Michelle maneuvered Becca into various positions, adjusting her body to capture the perfect angles. Since Becca’s arms were restricted, Michelle paid extra attention to positioning her legs and torso, ensuring that the composition highlighted the intricate details of the outfit and the overall aesthetic.
She used gentle touches and clear instructions to help Becca shift her weight and adjust her head position, ensuring that the lighting and shadows enhanced each shot’s visual impact. Throughout the process, Michelle’s attentive direction and Becca’s cooperation resulted in a series of striking photos. Each image artfully showcased the jacket and hood design while emphasizing Becca’s beautiful, expressive eyes. To her disappointment, the ballet heels were replaced with different stilettos, but all were still at least 150mm in height.
As I watched, I noticed numerous text messages from Lisa asking me to call her. I put my phone back in my pocket and continued to enjoy seeing my girlfriend explore a side of herself I didn’t know existed. I planned to return her calls later. I knew that if we had kept our original flight, we wouldn’t have landed for at least another hour anyway, which helped me rationalize the decision.
Eventually, Sebastian signaled to Michelle that it was time to wrap things up, meaning she could help Becca out of the restraints. Michelle helped Becca sit down, and within a few minutes, Becca was freed from the hood and straitjacket. Michelle placed the gear on the table with the other restraints and items used during the shoot and then brought Becca another bottle of water. Becca looked exhausted but happy as she sipped the water and relaxed.
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