© Copyright 2003 - Adam N. Eaves - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; D/s; bodybag; bond; bagged; box; encased; breathplay; climax; cons; XX
Diane surveyed the cardboard box with glee as it sat there on the bedroom floor empty. It was about three foot cubed and sturdy construction, the kind you would get a television in. She watched eagerly as her master prepared the equipment he was going to use on her; she felt a tingle in her pussy too as he draped the zip up body bag over the side of the box as a reminder of what was to come. As he undressed her, Ian stroked every inch of her tender body, preparing her for her latest ordeal, knowing that he too was going to get such a thrill out of it.
There she stood completely naked, almost shivering in the cold air; but was it the temperature or the trepidation of things to come. He asked her if she was all right with this game, before tying her ankles together and her hands behind her back. There would be no need for gag or blindfold for once she was inside that dark body bag, her senses would be impaired enough.
He kissed his little slave girl one final time before helping her into the box and stepping into the body bag. Ian reached down and pulled up the heavy zip slowly and agonisingly. The plastic felt good against her skin, as Diane shuddered inside, goose bumps all down her arms. The bag was up to her waist now and beginning to cling to her skin already, as her skin began to sweat. One last look into her eyes before he zipped it up to the top, watching that look of intensity on her face, as she disappeared within the darkness.
With the zip all the way to the top, Ian quickly secured it to the hanging hook by a small padlock. Diane heard it click shut and knew there was no way out of that bag now. Next came the see through plastic bag which would cover her top half. He eased it over her shoulders and down to her waist, then secured it in place with a length of chain, hooked around her neck and waist. He coiled the remainder around her legs in a criss cross pattern before fastening it around her ankles with another lock. As she wriggled about inside the bag, the chain made a delightful sound.
Diane had little movement now, her arms and legs pinned together tightly, as Ian lowered her body into the box. Squeezing in her legs into one corner and easing her shoulders and upper body into another. Once or twice he had to adjust the chain so that her limbs would bend into place. He stood there and surveyed his bondage girl, tightly squeezed into that box, totally at his mercy.
Inside the bag, Diane was already beginning to leak quite a lot from her pussy, and she wriggled about against the chain until she managed to position her clitty against the right spot. Ian too was becoming aroused, and he could hear his slave girls breathing becoming laboured. There was still some room at the top of the box and around her body, so Ian got the duvet off the bed and stuffed it into another plastic bag, before easing it into the box on top of Diane. He pushed down hard on it forcing it into every available space left in that box. Diane felt it press against her limbs and around her head, making it impossible to move or breath properly. Again she moved her hips against the chain, squeezing her thighs together tightly, desperately trying to hold back her impending orgasm.
Ian now folded the flaps of the box shut and taped them down with the thick brown parcel tape. He ran it along the bottom flaps too for good measure making sure that there was no way any air could get into that sealed container. His slave girl was now living on borrowed time, frantically writhing about the best she could inside, causing the box to rock back and forth. Her master gave the box a couple of twirls around making her a little dizzy, before placing the box onto the large plastic sheet he had laid out on the floor.
This was to be the last layer of his plastic girls tomb. He folded it around the box carefully, making a neat package, tucking in the ends and taping them as he went. At last the job was done, all the edges were sealed up and he stood up to look at his handy work. There was his little favourite slave in such a delightful package. Inside the body bag and the half plastic bag, chains, duvet, cardboard box, and plastic outer wrapper. Seconds of air remained now in that tight box, as Diane tossed herself from side to side. Her pussy muscles contracted violently as she began to cum, gasping for air, heartbeat deafening her.
Ian watched, listened and played with himself until he came too, wishing it were him inside that box and feeling the panic which his slave was experiencing. Her body still shuddering, Diane began to wonder if her master had miscalculated this time. There were no signs of him releasing her, and she knew she would pass out very soon if not. Fear was overcome by pleasure and the twitching of her pussy as it continued to throb. Her body was covered with sweat and she could feel the blood rushing to her head, as Ian tipped the box onto its end and spun it round one final time.
He looked at his watch and wondered just how long his little girl had been in there now. The box had long since stopped moving and the low murmurs had died down. Maybe it was too late he thought. What had he done, his slave trusted him so much. Had he taken it too far this time. Quickly he began to rip at the box with his bare hands, opened the flaps and threw the duvet out onto the floor. Diane was lying perfectly still as he reached down and lifted her body up. He undid the remaining chain and bag. He undid the body bag lock and hurriedly zipped it down. Diane’s eyes were shut; he put his face near to her mouth; she was still breathing, barely.
He cradled her in his strong arms and patted her cheek slightly. Suddenly
she gasped out loud and opened her eyes. She was exhausted and felt limp,
as she looked up at her master with thankful eyes. Yes maybe he had left
her in there a little too long this time, but she was alive, spent and
still tingling all over. Ian took her over to the bed and snuggled up to
her softly, telling her what a brave little slave girl she was and how
much he loved her. The box was still there the following morning to remind
her of her ordeal, as she kissed her master on the cheek and sighed.