Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

Day at the Office

by Subdriver

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© Copyright 2007 - Subdriver - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; boxed; transported; stored; toys; cons; X

From time to time throughout these posts I've been told that there were those who wished to be me, while others wished to be my wife. We'll see if the latter still holds true... 

We decided that, since I again had to work Monday while my wife had the day off, that she should be placed in storage for the day. However. I thought that perhaps a change of venue, from a box in a hall cabinet, might be nice for her. 

I began at five in the morning by roping her into a strict, nude ball tie. As before, I gagged her with a nerf ball stuffed into a stocking, allowing her mouth to be fully packed without any danger that she might swallow the packing and choke. On top of the stocking I added more packing, choosing a sponge to force her mouth open rather than a pair of her panties, as I did not want her to have any clothing available to her for this adventure, not even a sopping wet thong. With her mouth nicely packed, I sealed it all in with Ace bandage, wrapped tightly around her face. She was now completely gagged and helpless. With her mouth stuffed and filled, I decided to fill the rest of her. A large dildo and a butt plug, held in place with a tight crotch rope, took care of her nicely. 

I had purchased a cardboard box a little larger than last time, 28”x18”x18”, in which she would fit easily, without the sides bulging. To the box I had affixed several shipping and packing labels, addressed to our friend’s office, identifying the contents as “toner cartridges”. To my wife, the implications were immediately obvious. After placing her in the box, I informed her that she was to be transported and stored at our friend’s office again. I further told her that she would not be untied or ungagged until she was returned to me, that she would not be allowed any clothing or have access to any clothing, and that this box, and only this box, would be used to cover her during her transport or storage. That said, I taped her box shut, sealing her in. 

Our friend arrived at six and picked her up, along with a set of instructions and an extra bag of supplies. He immediately headed for the office, so he could arrive before his coworkers. 

Once at the office, he placed her box in the back of the storeroom, advised my wife of her location, and went about his business for the day. For my wife, sealed naked and trussed within the box, the reality of her predicament was readily apparent. Last time, she was in a box addressed to him, which he had identified to his coworkers as his property. This time, she was in a company storeroom, packed in box identified as office supplies. She had no guarantees that the carton would not be opened by someone needing a toner cartridge. Of course, she also had no way of knowing that her box was actually on the floor behind a shelf, tucked out of view, or that the shelf was stocked with toner cartridges, reducing the need for anyone to hunt down and open a fresh box. 

In the storeroom she sat, helpless, listening anxiously as people walked by the door. Her anxiety peaked each time someone entered to get a ream of paper. Unbeknownst to her, several of those occasions were our friend, entering and needlessly rummaging for supplies without speaking, simply to excite her further. 

Finally, it was quitting time. Our friend waited until six, after everyone had left, entered the storeroom, and removed her from her box. Of course, she had been sealed in the box all day, and had little concept of the passage of time. While she assumed that he would only removed her from the box after everyone had left, she was not certain. Furthermore, she did not expect to be removed from her carton. She thought that she was to be transported and stored in it throughout the day. Lying naked, gagged, and ball tied on the office storeroom floor, she had no idea what might be in store for her now. 

Then he destroyed the box. My wife actually screamed into her gag as she watched him tear the box to shreds. The box was the only means to conceal her during transport. Without it, she was now trapped miles from home in a third floor downtown office storeroom, tightly gagged and bound naked, with no hope of gaining freedom or clothing. 

She watched in horror as he calmly gathered up the pieces of the box and left, closing the door behind him. 

Our friend locked up the office and left to get dinner. He returned to the office at nine that evening, parking, as always, in the basement parking garage. Access to the garage is controlled by a gate, operated by a key card. The gate emits an audible signal each time it is raised. Once inside, he conducted a short search of the small parking area, making sure that no other cars remained. Satisfied, he walked back to the gate and placed a walkie-talkie on the ground near it, with the microphone button taped down in the “transmit” position. With this done, he could hear the gate signal and open on the walkie-talkie’s mate in his pocket. It was a trick we had used successfully before. 

He returned to the storeroom and, per my instructions, released the ropes that held her folded into a ball without untying any other portion of her body. After massaging her stiff legs for a while, he helped her to stand, still naked and bound. Next he proceeded to bind her breasts with rope, tightly encircling each breast with several coils of rope until they were each round and swollen. He then stretched a rope from each breast over her shoulders, down her back, through her ankles, then back up to her waist and through her crotch, pulling the rope under the front of her waist rope and knotting it there. He pulled the rope tight enough that she was forced to stand with her knees bent, and could not possibly straighten her legs. To her bondage he added clamps to each nipple, then added sleigh bells, one dangling from each clamp. 

Bound in this manner, my wife assumed that he intended to carry her naked through the building to his car. Her hopes were quickly dashed when he tugged on her crotch rope and told her “Let’s go.” When she hesitated briefly, he informed her that he was going home, and that, if she wanted him to drop her off at her house, she would have to hop to his car. Her only other choice was to remain where she was, naked, gagged, and bound. 

She immediately began hopping towards the door. She was able to reach the main entrance in a few minutes, hopping along the carpeted hallway and out into the lobby. She paused at the main entrance, leading out into the tiled third floor hallway. He swatted her hard on the ass and ordered her to get going. She hopped several more steps out onto the cold tile floor. She watched nervously as he locked the office door behind her. 

She was now standing naked, gagged, bound, plugged and filled, with her breasts swollen and purple before her, in the third floor public hallway of a busy downtown office building. With the doors now locked behind her, she had nowhere to hide. 

Another swat on the ass prompted her to get started. She began hopping down the hallway, following some distance behind him as he lead her around the corner to the elevators. For her, each leap was both an effort and a torment. Each leap caused the rope holding her knees bent to tense, pulling her bound breasts up while drawing tight between her legs, shoving her plug and dildo into her deeper for just a moment. Furthermore, she could not make her journey quietly, as the bells now swinging wildly from her nipples were announcing her every move as they twisted and pulled at her tender flesh. With every hop came a new twist, a new jingle, and especially, a new thrust into her. 

By the time she reached the elevators, she was trembling from orgasm. 

At the elevators, he gave her the option of taking the elevators or the stairs. While the stairs would be more private, the thought of negotiating four flights of stairs to the basement parking area as she was seemed too daunting for my wife, so she opted for the elevator. When the car arrived, he stepped in and held the doors for her as she hopped aboard. He then pressed the button for the parking level. Again to her horror, he also pressed the buttons for floors one and two. With that, the elevator began its downward journey, stopping at each floor, its doors opening wide, exposing her to anyone that might be passing by. Of course, there was no one there. The building was deserted. 

Once in the garage she was again compelled to complete her journey with another swat on her ass. She hopped across the concrete parking garage, bouncing, jingling, and thrusting as she went. He lifted her into the back of his SUV, then shortened the rope that had held her legs bent, pulling it tight until she was folded into a strict hog tie. She was now forced to lie on her bound, clamped breasts in the back of his truck, her arms and legs held hog tied by the same rope as before, tied through her crotch and up to her breasts. The slightest movement on her part caused the rope to strain and pull at her tender flesh. He closed the tailgate and they were off. 

After he pulled into our driveway, he unloaded her from the truck, carrying her still hog tied to the back door. I asked him to haul her down to the basement and leave her there. By this time, it was nearly midnight, My wife had been naked and bound, from the time we started, for nearly nineteen hours. After he left, I went down to the basement, rolled her onto her back, pulled out her gag, and kneeling over her, gave her something to eat and drink. Finished for the moment, I strapped a ball gag into her mouth, then rolled her onto her belly and proceeded to spank her until one in the morning, making her ordeal an even twenty hours naked and bound.



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