Two friends find out it is not safe to roam the halls of a rave taking place in the armory.

Two friends slip through the armory's dark corridors hunting a bathroom when a stranger grabs them from the shadows. He forces them to the concrete floor, clamps heavy leather cuffs around their wrists and ankles, and yanks them into tight hogties that arch their backs and spread their legs. A bright red ball gag is jammed between Alexa's teeth, another between Sara's, muffling every protest. Straps pull their heads up so their eyes lock on each other. The stranger works fast. He strips their clothes away, leaving them bare and bound. Then he presses a thick vibrator against Alexa's slit and makes her grind on it while Sara watches, drool running down her chin. When Alexa comes hard, shaking in her ropes, he orders Sara to crawl between her friend's open thighs and put her tongue to work. She hesitates; he slaps her ass until she obeys. Her mouth finds Alexa's swollen clit, licking in frantic, wet strokes while the blond writhes against the straps. Sweat glistens on both bodies. The stranger paces around them, tightening the ropes whenever either girl slows down. He demands they switch places. Now Alexa is buried between Sara's legs, sucking and licking while the brunette's hips buck against her mouth. The ball gags stay in; every orgasm sounds like a broken moan through rubber. They come again and again, faces shiny, thighs trembling, until their tormentor is satisfied. When he finally loosens the knots and walks away, the two friends stay on their knees a long minute, breathing hard, not looking at each other. Then they gather their clothes and slip back into the rave like nothing happened. But every pulse in the bass reminds them of the straps, the orders, and the taste that still lingers on their tongues.