Straitjacket Story Novels & Stories

I shook my head again‚ harder this time‚ and he smiled. He took the first cuff and fastened it around my right wrist. Then the matching one around my right ankle. He adjusted the strap between them until it pulled my knee up toward my chest‚ folding my body in half on one side. He did the same on the left. Wrist to ankle. Strap tightened until my legs were bent up and spread wide and my arms were pinned alongside them. I was completely open. Completely exposed. Completely helpless. He ran a strap from the cuffs to the headboard rails and secured it‚ locking me in position so I couldn't straighten out or close my legs no matter how hard I tried. I tested it. The cuffs were padded and comforta

With a deep breath, I pulled with all my might, hoping to reveal something that could aid my escape. The drawer creaked open, revealing a jumble of items—a tangle of clothes, scattered papers, and a small key nestled amidst the chaos. I grasped the key tightly, a newfound sense of optimism surging through me. Perhaps this was my ticket to freedom, a chance to break free from my restraints and uncover the truth behind my predicament. I turned my attention back to the leather strap restraining me. It was secured by a buckle, which I quickly realized could be released with the key I had found. With trembling hands, I maneuvered the key into position and carefully unlocked the buckle, feeling th

And if I knew anything about the Mafia… I knew that I wouldn’t be coming back. Using every ounce of Ema's strength and courage that was left, I tried to break free. My legs kicked wildly, and my muffled shouts resonated through the tight confines of the vehicle, but the men around me seemed unperturbed. “Please!” I called out, struggling against the absurdly tight restraints around my wrists. “Please, just let me go! I’ll disappear! You’ll never hear from me again!” No one responded to my pleas, no hands attempted to calm me or even restrain me further. It was as if they had done this countless times before, grown immune to the sounds of their victims’ distress.

she said and I gasped. I know what she means... she is declaring me mentally unstable, she wants to put me in a mental asylum... she is taking away my free will... no... I quickly sat down and tried to stand up when they all grabbed me and before I could move they held my hands and made me wear some weird-looking jacket and crossed my hands as if I am hugging myself and locked my hands in it and locked it. I tried my hardest but I couldn't move my hands... no... they made me wear the jacket that mental asylum patients wear who are too dangerous that their hands can't be kept open...

We were under siege! Hostages in our homes. The proceeds of love! I slowly walked back towards the door ready to Sprint out and disappear but the ugly muzzle of sub machine kissed my neck as I freezed on the spot! "I told you to leave that fucking idiot alone! Didn't I?" Jacob said as he landed on his belly. He had been handcuffed from back and roughly pushed into the room with blood oozing from his nose. I trembled as I went on my knees even without being told to. I had not even thought things were going to be this tight and tough.

I tell the story repeatedly, answering every iteration of what, where, when, how and why. Nothing changes. We interviewed Jimmy Raistrick. Left when we to go by someone who we thought to be a nurse. Sensed something wasn't quite right, we came back to check on the patient and interrupted the person posing as a nurse trying to strangle the patient. I gave chase up the fire escape, where the nurse and I got into a physical fight, culminating with me ending up with bruised ribs. She made her escape via a helicopter from the helipad, with the chopper heading east across London.

They were unkempt, their clothes torn and faces bruised, the heavy silver shackles around their wrists and ankles clinking discordantly against the marble floor. Mariana, who had been restrained just behind them, threw herself forward, her eyes wide with frantic desperation. "Zayne, let my parents go!" she shrieked. "They had nothing to do with this! It was me! Just me. I thought if I would lie about it you would process to our wedding quickly."

His eyes never left hers. Then, to her shock, he reached down and fastened the leather straps around his own ankles, one, then the other, the sound of each buckle clicking echoing through the room. Sarah’s breath caught. He’s… restraining himself? Liam lifted his arms next, sliding the straps through the polished loops at the chair’s arms and pulling them tight across his wrists. With a final click, the last buckle locked. He leaned back, muscles flexing under his skin, a god chained by his own will.

"Restrain him. Protocol Four." Before I could react, the four men in suits swarmed me. I fought, kicking out with my legs, but they were strong and heavy. They slammed me back against the chair. My right hand was shackled again. A thick leather strap was tightened across my forehead, pinning my skull to the headrest. Another strap was cinched across my jaw, forcing my mouth open and keeping my head immobile. I couldn't move an inch. I could only roll my eyes in terror.

The medication took a few minutes before it gave its effect, I felt drowsy, I felt dizzy and finally, I fell on the floor, I couldn’t keep myself up, even with the chair holding me, they gave me enough tranquillizer to make an elephant sleep. When I woke up it was to felt my hands restrained, even more than usual, it wasn’t a simple rope or any kind of chains, this was new, it was similar to hugging myself, but the thing had me restrained, it’s a crazy people jacket! How dare they, I’m going to kill someone once I’m free, and believe me I’ll be free and I’ll get my revenge.