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Clove strode down the sidewalk, bouncing along to the upbeat pop tune in her headphones. She simply couldn’t believe her luck! Judging by Dr. Willow’s flirtatious tone on her phone call, her presumed hopeless crush might actually go somewhere tonight.

Maybe it was a little unprofessional for her therapist to invite her down to her office at 10 PM, but Clove couldn’t care less. All she could think about was Dr. Willow, the grey-furred wolf with blue eyes she could lose herself in forever. Oh gods, she would do anything for her.

She’d fallen for her therapist during their first appointment. She just looked so beautiful in that deep-red dress with the leather jacket, how was Clove meant to resist her? Since then, the plum-furred kittypup had spent countless nights with a forepaw between her legs, fantasizing about the wolf.

Clove reached Dr. Willow’s office building, then went down the alleyway as the wolf had instructed. She didn’t want Clove on the building security cameras, which made perfect sense. She didn’t want to risk her career for a fling with a patient.

Why would she do that when she could have the best of both worlds? There weren’t any cameras in her office, so once Clove got up the fire escape, there was nothing to worry about.

The lanky hybrid slipped up the fire escape along the side of the building, her dark purple fur and black trench coat blending into the evening. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun and hidden away under a beanie, so it was very unlikely she’d be spotted. It would be horrible if she were an inconvenience for Dr. Willow.

She got to the fifth floor and eased the window open, emerging into the lobby of Dr. Willow’s office. It was as gorgeous as ever. Well-appointed and opulent, yet still with a classic and cozy feel. Rather than the usual modern language of minimal colors and hard edges, Dr. Willow’s lobby felt like the sitting room of a mid-century home. Low, warm lighting, lots of comfy leather chairs, rich mahogany everywhere.

And then of course, there was the fountain. Right in the center of the room, there was a gorgeous water feature that employed marble in a much more classical sense. Well-carved and elaborate, with the statue of a panther right in the middle with one foreleg extended to the sky, water pouring from her outstretched pointer finger.

Dr. Willow said the statue symbolized the determination to improve mental health. Clove thought the statue symbolized how nice it was to look at a pretty fur with perfect tits while you waited for your appointment. Either way, she wasn’t complaining. Coming here always made her feel like she lived in the lap of luxury. She chose not to think about how much money vanished from her bank account every time she had an appointment.

“Ah, there you are,” a voice said behind her. Clove whirled around to see Dr. Willow come out of her office, dressed in a simple white tank top and jeans, her hair up in a ponytail. It was the first time she’d seen her therapist in anything but formal business dress. She somehow looked just as stunning.

“Did you do as you were told, kittypup?” Dr. Willow asked, giving Clove a sly smile. “I don’t want to answer any awkward questions from the medical board in the future.”

“Uh-huh!” Clove replied cheerily. “Dark clothes, dark hat, down the alley, up the fire escape. It was a piece of cake.”

Dr. Willow growled softly, and Clove’s heart skipped a beat or two. Now that she was out of her refined dresses and blazers, the blue-eyed wolf seemed a good deal more wild than usual. Pure need radiated out from the kittypup’s pussy.

“Such a good girl,” the wolf said, closing the distance between them with two quick steps. “I had an inkling of how well you obeyed orders from our sessions. I simply had to see for myself.”

Clove batted her eyelashes at the wolf. “Oh, I’ll do anything for a woman like you, Dr. Willow,” she said, her voice low and breathy. “I’d move the sun and stars themselves if it was at your command.”

Dr. Willow unfastened the buttons on Clove’s trench coat, letting it fall away to the floor. Underneath it, all the kittypup wore was a set of glittery gold lingerie, along with her low-heeled boots.

“I hope you like it,” Clove purred. “I wanted to make sure I was beautiful for you tonight. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of getting a call like that from you, Dr. Willow. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

The wolf grinned, baring her fangs. “On the contrary, I know exactly how long you’ve dreamed of getting that call,” she said, grabbing Clove by the foreleg and spinning her around, pressing the kittypup’s back up against her chest. “Why do you think I made it?”

Before Clove knew which way was up, Dr. Willow pressed a sweet-smelling rag over her muzzle and held it there. Clove squealed in surprise, trying to struggle her way free of this sudden danger, but it was already too late. By the time she figured out something was wrong, the chloroform was already seeping into her bloodstream.

“That’s right, breathe deep you stupid little thing,” Dr. Willow whispered, holding Clove in a headlock. “Slutty girls like you are so easy. All I’ve got to do is imply that you’ll get in my pants and you’ll put yourself in harm’s way without a second thought.”

Alarm bells rang in Clove’s head, but there was nothing she could do about it. Her limbs felt like they were made of lead, and her eyelids got heavier with every breath. Dr. Willow was bigger and stronger than her and she had all of the leverage. The kittypup was stuck.

“Now be a good, pathetic girl and go to sleep,” the wolf cooed. “There’s a great deal I have to do to prepare you for your new forever home, and I’d rather not be up all night.”

Even now, all Clove could do was obey her. The dark purple hybrid’s eyes slid shut, and she drifted off into drug-laden unconsciousness. She was too full of chloroform for another thought.

***

Clove stirred. Everything felt so heavy. It was like swimming through molasses to find the waking world. The chloroform still sat heavy on her mind, heavy enough that it was hard to remember how she got here.

She tried to sit up and stretch, but she couldn’t. Some immovable force pinned her forelegs against her chest in a tight, crushing hug. Her hind legs were just as trapped, bent in half so her heels pressed against her backside and stayed there. No matter how hard she pulled, none of her legs would move more than a few inches.

Her eyes flashed open, and she saw that she was laying on the soft, high-pile carpet in Dr. Willow’s office. The lights were brighter than usual, enough that the kittypup squinted against it. She saw the wolfess there in her tank top and ponytail, and suddenly everything came rushing back.

Clove looked down, finding a tight black latex straitjacket locked around her torso. It held her in a vise grip, her forelegs strapped in place unforgivingly tight against her chest. There were open panels for her breasts, but everything else was hidden away behind a shimmering layer of inky blackness.

Craning her neck, the latex squeaking loud enough to fill the room, Clove saw that her hind legs were similarly trapped. Matching latex sleeves had bent her legs in half, leaving them stubby and useless. They weren’t bound together, but she couldn’t do much with them.

“Ah, you’re awake!” It was Dr. Willow, turning away from piles of unidentifiable material on her desk. “You take chloroform like a little bitch, you know. Out cold twice as long as a girl your size usually is.”

“If you wanted to tie me up, you could’ve just asked,” Clove said groggily. “You didn’t have to drug me or anything.”

Dr. Willow came over and squatted down in front of her, a sharp smile on her face. “But I needed to set the tone, you little idiot,” she said, her tone harsh. “It wouldn’t do for you to think you were here to me to fuck you. You’re an object now. And I don’t treat objects like consensual lovers.”

Clove’s stomach turned over and she squirmed in her restraints. “O-okay, hot dirty talk I guess, but you’re not serious, r-right?”

She hoped the wolf would give her that lovely, sweet smile and then maybe let her eat her pussy. Doing that while bound up like this would be pretty damn hot. Especially if Dr. Willow kept talking down to her like that.

Dr. Willow did not do any of that. Instead, she picked up a small bucket full of little jingly golden padlocks and a pair of thick leather belts. She then picked up another bucket with a large paintbrush sitting in it and strode over to the bound kittypup.

“Oh I am deadly serious, you pretty fool,” Dr Willow said, setting her cargo down next to Clove. “You’re never leaving again, and this is the most freedom you’ll ever have for the rest of your pathetic, miserable life.”

Clove whimpered. “C’mon, this isn’t funny,” she said, wriggling against her straitjacket. “I’m into degradation or whatever, but you’re being really scary.”

Dr. Willow paid her worries no mind, clipping padlocks into place on each and every strap on the straitjacket. “This straitjacket is glued to your fur, as are the leg sleeves,” she said as she worked. “There are also two more of these belts on each of your hind legs keeping them bent like this. Additionally, there is a corset built into the straitjacket, in order to keep your airflow under control. These make for excellent base layers, but hardly sufficient for the complete picture.”

Much to Clove’s alarm, Dr. Willow didn’t stop at fastening the locks. She also picked up a small syringe and dipped it in the bucket of what she now recognized was glue, squiring little trickles of it into each of the padlocks.

“That’s uh, that’s not like permanent permanent, r-right?” Clove asked, a fearful lump in her throat. “You can take it off me.”

Dr. Willow looked up at her, eyes hard as steel. Clove had never seen that expression on her face before. “I don’t know how clear I can possibly make this,” she said, painting the two leather belts with glue. “You are never, ever getting out of here. If you ask me one more question I’ve already answered, I’m going to make your gag far more unpleasant.”

Cold, icy terror washed over Clove. This was clearly not just dirty talk, she was serious. She lay there shell-shocked as Dr. Willow strapped the glue-soaked belts around her hind legs and pulled them as tight as she possibly could, pinning her two limbs together.

“Wh-why are you doing this?” Clove asked, shivering. “Did I do something wrong? I th-thought you liked me.”

Dr. Willow laughed. It sounded so cruel. “No, I wouldn’t say you’ve done anything wrong,” she replied. “I simply have a vacancy inside of my lobby statue, and you’re both sized well to fit inside of it and gullible enough to put yourself in a position where I can do whatever I want with you.”

She skittered her claws across Clove’s exposed hindpaws, drawing a surprised bark of laughter from the kittypup. “It’s nothing personal, Clove. I simply want to seal you away forever, and it’s much too late for you to stop me. Now are you going to be a good girl and take it? Or do I have to take extreme measures?”

“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!” Clove screamed, fighting as hard as she could against her bonds. “SHE’S CRAZY, SOMEONE PLEASE!”

Dr. Willow didn’t make any move to stop Clove while she frantically screamed and hollered. She simply stood back and let the kittypup tire herself out, struggling fruitlessly against her confinement.

“Are you quite done?” The wolfess asked, looking down at Clove with disdain. “This office is soundproof. You could scream for hours and not alert anybody to your condition except me. All you’re doing with this carrying on is irritating me.”

She knelt down in front of Clove and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to make eye contact with her captor. “And I can promise you Clove, the very worst thing you can do right now is irritate me.”

The kittypup froze, looking up at Dr. Willow through teary eyes. Why was this happening? What happened to her kind, compassionate therapist who was a warm and empathetic listener?

“Can you please let me go?” She asked with a sniffle. “I promise I won’t tell anybody, just pl-AUGH!”

Clove’s pleas dissolved into desperate screams as Dr. Willow suddenly dumped a jar full of strange yellow-orange gel into her mouth. It was like tasting fire, and it was sticky. It adhered to every inch of her mouth, especially her tongue. She looked up at the wolfess in a panic and found no sympathy in her eyes.

Instead, Dr. Willow stripped off her jeans and panties, stuffing the underwear in Clove’s open, screaming maw. She then peeled off her socks, which were musky enough to make Clove flinch, and crammed those in as well.

The sudden influx of fabric didn’t abate the burning agony one bit, but it did shut the kittypup up. The long socks were big enough to puff out Clove’s cheeks, and her panties filled in the gap between them to keep her from saying another word. In a matter of moments, Clove’s speech was taken from her forever.

Clove knew she should be concerned about that. But now she was seeing Dr. Willow’s pussy for the first time, and there wasn’t anything else she could think about. Stars, it was perfect. Open, inviting, and absolutely dripping wet. She must’ve quite enjoyed doing this to her patient.

“Oh, you like what you see?” Dr. Willow asked, slipping a finger into her cunt. “You’d have as much of it as you like, but I don’t have sex with objects. You get to look, and you’re going to like it. Aren’t you?”

She didn’t bother waiting for Clove to answer, instead choosing to continue her gagging. Apparently one pair of socks and panties wasn’t enough for Dr. Willow. Judging by the pawful of musky panties she forced into Clove’s open, helpless maw, it was nowhere near enough.

“It’s going to hurt quite a bit to have your mouth this full forever,” she said matter-of-factory as she crammed the massive wad of fabric into Clove’s mouth. “I can only imagine how much the capsaicin gel is already burning. But I can’t take any chances. I don’t want anybody hearing you as you sit in your permanent confinement.”

The word “permanent” hit Clove like a sledgehammer. She pondered it as Dr. Willow dipped the syringe into the glue again, sucking up more of the viscous liquid and poking it into various places in the mass of cloth stuffed in her maw.

Permanent. Permanent. Permanent. She was going to be stuck like this forever. She’d never move again, never speak again, never see any of her family or friends again. She’d just be a wriggly little bondage worm, her mouth stuffed full of her therapist’s socks and panties.

Dr. Willow walked back to her desk and returned with a concerning bundle of gear and fabric. The glue laced throughout all of the socks and panties was already drying, turning the mass of squishy fabric into one single, solid block. Clove could still compress it if she really tried, but it was hard work.

“Let’s get you really silenced, you gullible little toy,” Dr. Willow said, taking two long nylon stockings and tying them in a tight cleave, forcing the mass deeper into Clove’s maw. “I don’t much care for half-measures. I’ve been planning this gag for weeks, and you’re going to experience it in all of its majesty.”

Next up was a roll of duct tape. Clove couldn’t help but shudder as Dr. Willow yanked it off the roll with a satisfying ripping sound, pressing it down on her cheek and wrapping it around her head. She forced the mass in her maw deeper as she went, pulling ever more tape off of the roll. Her jaws were about as far apart as she could imagine.

“Good helpless object,” Dr. Willow said as she wrapped. “You really are a gullible little thing. Did it not strike you as odd how adamant I was that you had to avoid the security cameras? Or were you so blinded with lust that you never thought about it?”

Clove whined pitifully as Dr. Willow stopped after seven wraps. She hadn’t thought about it one bit. All she thought about was lying beneath her beautiful therapist, losing herself in her perfect body. It never occurred to her that the good doctor might have ulterior motives.

It was fairly clear now as Dr. Willow grabbed a rope and yanked her mouth closed around the stuffing in her maw. Clove howled into her gag, not that any of the sound made it out. The wolfess tied a secure knot in the rope, then reinforced it by wrapping the duct tape around her prey’s muzzle several times.

Clove didn’t know it was possible for her maw to be this full. Screaming as loud as she could only produced the tiniest, most muffled “mmph!” For some reason, that sent an electric charge to Clove’s pussy. She bucked her hips, one of the last movements available to her, and drops of wetness trickled down her legs.

Dr. Willow scoffed as she painted the inside of a black latex muzzle with glue. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” she said as her prisoner mmphed her surprise into her muzzle. “Such a pathetic little slut. I should’ve done this ages ago. I bet you’d thank me by now if I let you.”

She yanked the adhesive-soaked latex over Clove’s muzzle, compressing her massive gag further still. The scent of the glue was dizzying, and it was everywhere. Every breath brought more mind-melting fumes into Clove’s lungs, leaving her a squirming, moaning mess on the floor. All she could do was shudder as the wolfess fastened the muzzle’s web of attached straps and glued padlocks into place for each one.

Dr. Willow stepped back to review her handiwork. “That ought to shut you up for now,” she said. “There is more to come, don’t you worry about that. But you can still move entirely too much for my liking. I’m going to fix that.”

She took a huge bundle of scarves from her desk and sat down next to Clove. She stroked the smooth, stuffed curve of her toy’s muzzle and growled in her ear.

“Believe me when I say that when we’re done, you’re never going to move an inch again,” she whispered, coaxing an aroused, terrified moan out of Clove. “If you think you’re helpless now, you don’t have the first idea what you’re in for.”

Dr. Willow also had a pair of alligator teeth nipple clamps, which she fastened in place to the tune of a strangled whine from Clove. The idea that she’d have to feel this sharp, un-ignorable pain for the rest of her life drove the kittypup deeper into arousal.

One after another, the wolf dipped the scarves in glue and wrapped them around Clove, pulling as tight as she possibly could. She went so far as to brace herself by stepping on her trapped toy, dripping sweat all over Clove. Whenever a drop fell on her face, the kittypup’s pussy leaked everywhere.

It was slow, laborious work. The glue dried quickly once it was on Clove’s body, robbing her of what little movement she had bit by bit. The few inches of slack the straitjacket afforded her were down to maybe half an inch if she really fought. But gosh, it was getting rather tiring to fight.

Dr. Willow’s pussy was still out, and Clove couldn’t stop staring at it. She looked even better with her clothes off; Clove didn’t think that was possible. Her body was trim and athletic, yet she still carried curves that the kittypup could stare at forever. Why would she be worried that she was now fully encased in scarves soaked in permanent adhesive when the woman doing it to her was this lovely?

The wolfess wrapped one last scarf around her prey, running from her bent knees to her hindpaws. The glue felt strange on Clove’s hindpaws, and as she felt it dry, she felt just how permanent it was. Dr. Willow would have to tear her flesh off just to get the scarves off.

“It’s getting awfully hard to tell that there’s a stupid, easily led kittypup under there,” Dr. Willow said, resting a hindpaw on her toy. “But don’t worry. It’s going to get a lot harder. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be indistinguishable from a pile of gear.”

She picked up the twitching bundle that was Clove with shocking ease, carrying her over to a single chain hanging from the ceiling. There was a D-ring attached to one of the straps atop the kittypup’s head, which Dr. Willow attached to the chain and let Clove swing.

Whistling to herself, Dr. Willow picked up a roll of black-tinted pallet wrap and pressed it down on Cole’s chest, wrapping it around her body. The half-inch of freedom left to her ticked down to a quarter of an inch as the wolfess slowly wrapped her toy up tight from the neck down.

Clove wanted to hate it, she really did. She wanted to be indignant about the treatment Dr. Willow unilaterally imposed on her, but gods it felt good to be this trapped. She couldn’t help it, she was still hopelessly in love with the cruel wolfess. It felt so wrong to be this wet over being kidnapped and permanently imprisoned, which only made it feel more right.

“I hear those pathetic muffled moans,” Dr. Willow growled, adding a second coat of the pallet wrap. “Go ahead, savor this. Enjoy that burning in your mouth, love those nipple clamps, struggle uselessly against your bonds. So long as you’re immobile, I could give a fuck what you think about it.”

Clove was only too happy to oblige. She screamed over the torment from the capsaicin gel, to no effect. She savored the biting pain from the clamps. And she fought as hard as she could against her ever-tightening bonds, succeeding only in making herself swing from the chain.

Once Dr. Willow was done with two coats of pallet wrap, she quickly moved on to duct tape. The sound and the scent of the tape sent shivers of delight down Clove’s spine. Any remaining doubt about her love of her new circumstances was long gone. This was heaven. A tight, cruel, suffocating heaven that would only get tighter.

“I was tempted to stuff your holes with some nice, big toys,” Dr. Willow said as she wound tape around the kittypup. “But I decided against it. I don’t want to give you sexual stimulation beyond those nice clamps on your nipples. I want you unable to focus on anything but your captivity. Objects don’t get to cum.”

Objects don’t get to cum. Objects don’t get to cum. Objects don’t get to cum. Objects don’t get to cum.

Dr. Willow’s proclamation was like gospel to Clove. Of course she shouldn’t be granted sexual stimulation! She was here to be sealed away in tight, impenetrable layers of restraint, not for anything else. It was foolish for her to ever think otherwise.

Even though it didn’t involve that wonderful glue, Clove thought that the duct tape was her favorite binding material thus far. It was so wonderfully unforgiving. That quarter of an inch was gone, leaving practically nothing behind. She could still swing back and forth, but any movement within her bondage was now virtually impossible.

Dr. Willow gave her another two coats of duct tape, then painted a layer of glue on top of it. While Clove twitched in excitement, she slid a neck-entry latex sleepsack up her helplessly bound body, encasing the bundle of kittypup in a uniform layer of black latex.

“Now isn’t that just lovely?” Dr. Willow said, painting yet more glue onto the sleepsack. “If I’m being honest with myself, that is perfectly sufficient to hold you in place as much as I want. But I just can’t resist some redundancy.”

She picked up a leather sleepsack off of her desk, pulling it up Clove’s immobilized body and fastening the attached collar around her neck. The kittypup moaned into her gag as the wolfess pulled each of the sleepsack’s belts as tight as she possibly could, then added glue to each of the holes she pushed the belts’ tines through.

Then it was time for more padlocks. Two for each strap, each one with more of that wonderful, awful glue squirted into the keyhole so that it would never come off. With every passing second, freedom drifted further from Clove’s imprisoned paws. By now, she could only feel gratitude at the prospect.

“There we go!” Dr. Willow said, clapping her forepaws and leaning back on her desk. “You’re so much cuter like this, Clove. Say ‘thank you, Dr. Willow.’”

Clove mmphed into her gag along with the commanded words, not that they came out as anything legible. Every time she tried to speak, the capsaicin gel burned worse. And every time it did, her pussy gushed forth with a fresh tide of juices. The pain was intoxicating.

“Good prisoner,” Dr. Willow growled. “Now let’s get your head all nice and sealed away. I’m sick of you having eyesight.”

She picked up a contact case from the desk, slipping a pair of blackout contacts into Clove’s eyes without further ceremony. Without warning, the kittypup’s eyesight was a thing of the past. She yelped into her gag in surprise, but Dr. Willow paid her no mind.

Instead, she got on with her work. The wolfess glued Clove’s eyes shut around the contacts, then slapped a glue-soaked square of cloth over her eyes. Clove didn’t think it was possible for somebody to be more securely blindfolded, but Dr. Willow clearly didn’t agree. Judging by the sound of ripping duct tape, there was quite a bit more blindfolding to go.

Dr. Willow coated nearly every inch of the kittypup’s head in duct tape, pausing only to unhook the D-ring from the top of her muzzle and pull Clove down into her lap. Then for good measure, she added a second coat. All that was left exposed was her ears and nostrils.

The wolfess slipped a pair of tiny speakers deep inside of the kittypup’s ears, then squirted a veritable ocean of glue inside of them. She then squished thick foam earplugs down into the thick mass of adhesive before sealing the fluffy little ears away under tape as well.

“I hope you can hear me in there,” Dr. Willow’s voice said, tinny through the little speakers. “I did check them before we started, but there’s nothing I can do about it if they’re broken now. There’s no way of getting all that glue out of your ears.”

Clove rocked from side to side in the wolf’s grasp, just about the last degree of movement available to her. The pressure on her head from all of the tape was immense, and now all sound except her vicious therapist’s voice was a distant memory. Her only access to the outside world was the air whistling in and out of her nose.

Dr. Willow hummed to herself as she tied more glue-soaked scarves around the kittypup’s head. She pulled each one as tight as she possibly could, not caring about the force she applied to Clove’s head. It wasn’t like it mattered if she was uncomfortable.

“I know I said this wasn’t personal, but I knew you were meant for this from the moment you walked into my office,” the wolfess said as she yanked the last scarf tight around Clove’s neck. “I’ve seen you drooling over me session after session for the last year and a half. I’ve been sure to give you plenty of peeks down my neckline, and even a few up my skirt!”

She painted more glue over the scarves, tugging a small, tight latex hood down over the top. “But through it all, I was sizing you up for my statue,” she hissed. “You’re not good enough for a woman like me, Clove. But you are good enough to be a pathetic, sealed-up object for me to own. So that’s exactly what you’ll be.”

Clove could barely follow her words anymore. The pressure on her head was overwhelming. The burning in her maw was still agonizing. And the smell of all that glue left her lungs searching for oxygen. Thanks to the corset and her neck bindings, it was already hard to get full breaths. The fragrant adhesive only made the problem worse.

Dr. Willow looked the squirming bundle of kittypup up and down with a satisfied smirk. “That’s more like it,” she said, nudging Clove with her hindpaw. “Feel that? It’s the closest you’re ever going to get to sex with me, you woeful little creature. Savor it, then we’re going to put on the final pieces.”

Clove did savor it. She squirmed in her bondage with all her might, moaning into her gag at the distant feel of Dr. Willow’s hindpaw through all of her bondage. The good doctor was even kind enough to put her hindpaw over Clove’s muzzle for a moment! She got a wonderful, blissful whiff of her musk and wished she could stay in this moment forever.

But Dr. Willow had other plans. She dragged a second glue-lined latex hood down over her former patient’s head, then a third, then another layer of duct tape, and then a fourth hood. It was needlessly excessive. But the wolfess was going to milk this for every drop of pleasure she could get.

Finally, she pulled a gas mask down over Clove’s featureless, blank head, adding glued padlocks to each of the straps. For the finishing touch, she picked up a massive, thick steel collar from her desk, grunting at the weight. She was happy she wouldn’t be the one stuck with this beast around her neck forever.

Clove grunted at the sudden weight around her neck, but she couldn’t do anything to resist it. Not that she would by this point; she was just as on-board with her eternal imprisonment as Dr. Willow was by now. She quivered in her bonds as the wolfess welded the huge ring of steel shut around her neck, pressing the many layers of wrapping down even tighter.

A couple of minutes went by without any further restrictions, and Clove took stock of her situation. Thanks to the constriction of her chest and windpipe, she could only take the most shallow, pitiful breaths. She could not move a micron in any direction except to wiggle back and forth on the floor, her body itself helplessly bound up. Her forelegs may as well have been welded to her chest, and her hind legs would be bent in half for the rest of her life.

“Alright object, let’s get you all sealed up,” Dr. Willow said, hefting the bundle of gear that was once Clove up and carrying her into the lobby. “I’ve got to get to bed, and you’ve got an eternity of captivity waiting for you!”

The back of the statue was open, with a cavity inside of it perfectly sized for a kittypup sealed away under layer after layer of glue-sodden bindings. Dr. Willow attached the four chains hanging inside of the cavity to the D-rings on the sides of Clove’s new permanent steel collar, letting the kittypup dangle inside of it.

Under normal circumstances, putting all of her weight on her neck like that would have been a death sentence. But the thickness of her bindings distributed the pressure enough that it just robbed her of some more of her oxygen capacity. Clove now had to gasp just to breathe.

Exactly as planned.

Dr. Willow screwed a hose into the intake of Clove’s gas mask, now taking full control of what the kittypup got to breathe. The hose led all the way back to her desk, where it hooked up to a bubbler bottle stowed away in a soundproof cabinet. The object now had to huff and puff to get air into her lungs, which was rather difficult in her position!

Clove had already noticed the precarity of her situation. The first time she tried to take a breath after Dr. Willow attached the hose, she only succeeded in pulling the gas mask tighter against her face. When she tried again, sucking air in through her nose as hard as she could, she got a thin trickle of air that was barely enough to keep her awake.

She pleaded with Dr. Willow to give her some more air, but it was pointless. Even if she could somehow communicate through all of the gags and hoods, the wolfess wouldn’t listen. She designed this predicament to be exactly this miserable, and Clove would just have to deal with it. Forever.

“Aww, I can see those pathetic excuses for resistance in there,” Dr. Willow said, welding the chain attachments into place and gluing in the hose. “Did you think I would give you easy access to air? Such a stupid object. Every facet of your life is suffering now, because it gets me off.”

She punched the twitching bundle in the back of the head. “That’s why this is happening to you, Clove,” she said, her voice thick with lust. “I’m imprisoning you for the rest of your life in this inescapable nightmare because I wanted something hot to cum about after a long day of work. Knowing that you’re in here, unable to even wiggle a finger, your very air supply under my control, will be enough to coax orgasm after orgasm from me.”

Dr. Willow laughed. “Does it feel good to know that you did actually come here to get me off, object?” She asked, touching herself. “Think about that while I get you all sealed away. Think about how your entire life has been reduced to a thought for me to finger my pussy about.”

Clove did think about it, as much as she could manage at this point. She thought about what it would look like when Dr. Willow came. How she’d pump her fingers in and out of her pussy, her breaths hot and heavy, her head rolling back. How she would moan and pant and grope her breasts while she did it. How she would squirt all over her desk thinking about her gullible patient trapped in the statue.

The kittypup’s pussy throbbed under all of her bonds. Gods, she would give anything to have something inside of it. A nice, big dildo to clench around while she thought about her beautiful captor getting off. But Dr. Willow said that objects didn’t get to cum, so she wouldn’t. She would stew in her lust and desire while the free wolfess got all the orgasms. It was only fair.

Dr. Willow picked up an epoxy gun and started pumping it into the cavity that held Clove. She was sick of seeing the small swinging motions still afforded to the kittypup, and she was eager to take them away. Once this stuff cured, it would really sink in for her new object just how trapped it was.

It was slow going. But Dr. Willow worked her way up the cavity, making sure to poke the epoxy gun in and fill up every last millimeter of space inside the smooth stone. Some of it spilled out and ran down the back of the statue, but it didn't matter. She could clean that up when she was done. Clove could not be allowed so much as a nanometer of movement.

Clove felt the encroaching epoxy inside of her bonds. It felt like rock coming up around her hind legs, piling higher and higher with every pass. Like the glue, it dried fairly quickly. And when it did, the kittypup found that she really, truly could not move.

She couldn’t swing back and forth. She couldn’t struggle. She couldn’t even twitch in her bonds anymore. The epoxy held her with such certainty that it was impossible to tell that there was a living being sealed away inside of it.

“Strong stuff, isn’t it?” Dr. Willow said, the epoxy now up to Clove’s waist. “I made sure to order the industrial-grade epoxy for you, object. Can you feel it, you little fool? Robbing you of whatever modicum of freedom you had left?”

Oh, she could feel it alright. And it felt like paradise. The kittypup moaned into her gag. Her pussy felt like it had been hooked up to the electric grid. It would only need the tiniest bit of stimulation for her to have the greatest orgasm of her life.

Unfortunately, her pussy was now sealed away under rock-solid epoxy as well as everything else, and Dr. Willow was still going. She worked her way up to the base of Clove’s breasts, growling the whole time about how permanently, hopelessly helpless the kittypup would be for the rest of her life.

“Good object,” Dr. Willow cooed, a bit of that sweetness creeping back into her tone. Clove could imagine that wonderful, kind smile of hers. “Sink into that nice, warm bath of bliss. There’s no going back. There’s no way out. You’re mine forever now. Let that knowledge comfort you.”

Clove was all too happy to comply as the epoxy piled up around her neck. It was a bit more pressure, a bit less air, but she couldn’t care less. What was a bit more suffering in the face of all of this? Even her pleasure imprisoned her, trapping her thoughts in lust.

All she could see in her mind’s eye was Dr. Willow. She saw the beautiful wolfess forcing Clove’s face between her legs, she saw her making the kittypup worship her hindpaws, she saw her using her face as a seat for hours and hours while she worked.

Such sweet, delicious fantasies that would forever be just that. Clove knew the order of things now. She was put on this earth to be captured, bound, and sealed up by Dr. Willow, left alone with nothing but her fantasies and a constricted windpipe. She would live and die in this statue, and she would do it in mindless pleasure.

Dr. Willow’s epoxy was climbing over the top of her head now, and Clove was eager. She would’ve begged the wolfess to finish the job if she could. It felt so unbearably good to be trapped like this. It was finally sinking in that she would really never move again, and the thought was sweeter than any orgasm ever could be.

“Just perfect,” Dr. Willow said, setting down the epoxy gun and picking up the rear panel of the statue. “Now for the final piece.”

She painted the inside of the panel with a coat of epoxy and pressed it into place, where it slipped seamlessly back into its home. As far as any bystander could tell, that was nothing but a statue. Nobody but Dr. Willow knew that there was a kittypup trapped inside of there, held in the most complete bondage the wolfess could devise.

“Stupid object,” Dr. Willow growled, and she could almost feel Clove shudder in delight. “Nobody’s ever going to know what happened to you. I’ll tell the police that I called you because I was concerned about your mental state, and you told me that you mentioned something about leaving the country. Nobody will ever suspect me.”

Dr. Willow caressed the panther statue. “And it’s all because you were such a trusting, simple-minded object,” she said. “I couldn’t have done this without you being compliant statue filler. Be a good object and think about how it’s all your fault that this happened to you.”

Clove did just that. Her juices ran down her thighs in thin trickles, the closest thing to movement she could manage in her new home. She wished she could thank Dr. Willow, but she settled for moaning into her gag.

The many layers swallowed up the sound so well that Clove didn’t know if she’d moaned at all.

***

“No officer, I’m terribly sorry, I don’t have any more information than that. I’ll be certain to reach out to you if she contacts me, but I’m afraid I’m not terribly hopeful on that front.”

The ocelot police officer handed Dr. Willow a business card and tipped his cap. “Much obliged ma’am,” he said, turning toward the door. “We’ll be in touch if we hear anything.”

The wolfess gave him a kind smile. “Oh thank you officer,” she said, her tone sickly sweet. “I worry so much about my patients. It’s like they’re my very own children. It’s always terrible to know one of them is out in the world, suffering beyond my reach.”

The ocelot frowned sympathetically. “Well, try not to worry about it too much, ma’am,” he said. “I’m sure that wherever Ms. Larson is, she’s alright.”

He stopped for a moment as he walked out, looking the statue up and down. “Wow, that’s quite a piece,” he said. “Where’d you get it?”

Dr. Willow smiled, a bit more forcefully this time. “Oh, it’s a custom piece,” she said with a wave of her paw. “Made with the help of a couple of dear friends. I wanted to add a touch more class to the waiting room, you know?”

The cop nodded again, then left without another word. As he closed the door behind him, Dr. Willow’s smile twisted up into a cruel smirk. Ugh, finally. She was running late for her nightly ritual. The police and their useless investigation were eating into her valuable time.

It had been six and a half weeks since Clove Larson vanished off the face of the earth. Just as Dr. Willow had expected, the police checked her phone records and came knocking at her office. She told them her sob story about the strange, upsetting call and sent them off on a wild goose chase across national borders.

Today’s visit had been just the third from the police since Clove’s disappearance, each less involved than the last. She suspected that she wouldn’t hear from law enforcement on this matter again.

The wolfess pulled up a saved file on her computer and printed it out, laying the sheet of paper across her desk. It was a missing poster for Clove Larson, presumably made by her poor, grieving family. The photo they chose showed a smiling plum-furred kittypup, her long blonde tresses spilling over her shoulders. She looked so happy and full of life.

It made for quite a contrast to the life Dr. Willow’s statue filler had now. The wolfess opened the soundproof cabinet in her desk, listening to the bubbler bottle as Clove frantically sucked up what little air she could get. It was the only sign that there was something alive inside of the panther statue.

Dr. Willow loved using the bottle to torture her object. Today, the bubbler bottle was full of her morning piss, forcing Clove to huff it as deep as she could with every breath. The wolfess could only imagine how miserable it was for her in there, choking on stale piss fumes as she sat motionless in all of her restraints.

She bit her lip as she pulled off her dark green dress and panties, moaning softly. Sometimes she’d wring out her workout clothes into the bottle, let Clove spend a day or two huffing her musk. If she felt particularly generous, she’d stick her musky socks in the bottle. The kittypup had mentioned her paw fetish during her sessions, and Dr. Willow wasn’t entirely devoid of generosity.

A stroke of inspiration struck her. Dr. Willow opened another desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of poppers, pouring a quarter of it into the piss-filled bubbler bottle. Clove wasn’t smart enough to tell the difference, and now she’d be getting high off of her owner’s piss. Her weak, faded brain would do the rest, and she’d be addicted by the morning.

Dr. Willow bucked her hips and moaned, slipping two fingers back into her pussy. Fuck, it felt so good to have a pathetic creature’s life under her control to such a degree. She was all Clove had now, and she only saw the kittypup for what she was: a pathetic, trapped object, good for nothing but torture. She hoped that capsaicin gel burned as much as the online listing said it would.

“Stupid fucking statue filler,” the wolfess grunted. “Got herself stuck forever because she was too goddamn horny to see the warning signs.”

She thought about taking her little wireless headset and taunting Clove while she masturbated, but decided against it. The speakers glued into the object’s ears were looping a degrading audio track, telling her exactly what an idiot she was for getting herself into this mess. It told her over and over how much she deserved this fate, how her life wasn’t hers anymore, and how she was a massive slut for permanent bondage.

The wolfess chuckled through her panting. It was a stroke of genius not to stuff her full of toys as she’d originally planned. It was far more torturous to give Clove everything she needed for a life of endless orgasms except the stimulation. It had to be awfully frustrating stewing her desire in there.

She pictured her statue filler, sitting motionless in her bonds. She remembered watching the fear and panic in Clove’s eyes bleed away into adoring bliss the more she layered on the restraints. She could almost feel the pure, raw need radiating from the statue in her lobby.

“Oh, f-fuck,” Dr. Willow moaned, speeding over the edge. She hurriedly stood up and pressed her thighs against her desk, just in time to cum with a screaming moan.

She sprayed her juices all over Clove’s missing poster, staining the kittypup’s smiling face with evidence of her proper place in life. Dr. Willow rode the orgasm for more than a minute before she stopped, collapsing back in her chair with a satisfied moan.

“I don’t think that’s ever going to get old,” she said to herself with a little giggle. “Stupid little kittypup. Nothing but fingerfucking fuel.”

Dr. Willow pulled her dress and panties back on, then shut the soundproof cabinet that held the bubbler bottle, making sure to lock it. Tomorrow, she had another full day of appointments, where her patients would be just feet from evidence of what she’d done.

But they would never find it. Dr. Willow had taken every precaution, covered up every trace of Clove Larson. The kittypup’s life was hers and hers alone now, trapped in hellish confinement inside of a statue.

The wolfess pulled her coat on and closed her office door, then stood in her lobby and admired the statue. It really was a gorgeous piece, but it hadn’t been complete before. For three years, she’d waited for the right patient to fill the vacancy inside of it.

“You’re perfect,” Dr. Willow said, tracing a claw up the panther statue. “Perfect statue filler. Have a good night huffing my piss, object. I’ll be back in the morning to torture you.”

Clove couldn’t hear her. All Clove could hear was the recording of her crush telling her what a stupid, easy, slutty fool she was. And all Clove could do was huff piss, her lust trickling down her thighs, falling ever more in love with Dr. Willow.

END