© Copyright 2007 - Subdriver - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; bond; bdsm; crate; packed; stored; toys; cons; X
Last weekend We decided to subject my wife to a new experience. After a morning of bondage and use, we loaded her up, naked, bound, plugged, filled, and gagged with a Nerf ball packed into a stocking, into the back of our friend’s SUV. We also loaded a crate into the truck, which our friend had made.
The wooden crate measured 30”x16”x16”, and had a number of 1” diameter ventilation holes drilled in rows along five sides. The crate was constructed of plywood fastened to 2”x4” boards. The crate did not have any hinges, latches or locks, just a lid that would require securing down with wood screws and an electric screwdriver, which we brought along.
My wife was a bit confused. She couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t already been loaded into the crate for transport. The answer was simple: I wanted her to have some idea of how far away she was being taken. It is nearly impossible for her to judge distance or time when she is sealed away in the dark. Also, I wanted her to see where we had taken her when we arrived.
We drove for nearly two hours, with my wife squirming along in the back, watching country roads whisk by. Finally, we arrived at a farm. We approached from the back, entering near some dilapidated structures, allowing my wife to believe it was abandoned. Once there, we unloaded the crate and the lid, carrying them into a rickety old barn. Next we unloaded my wife, making her hop along naked and trussed in broad daylight, in plain view of the road only a dozen or so yards away, slowly leading her into the barn.
Once in the barn we strappadoed her and spanked her ass, paddling her until it was nice and red. Better, we thought, for her to sit on in the crate. Satisfied that her bottom was suitably tenderized, I roped her into a tight ball tie before packing her seated upright in the crate. We assembled the crate, securing the side panel in place with wood screws, making certain that each screw was centered over wood, being careful not miss and catch her, or partially miss and leave a protruding screw that she might cut herself on during the night.
With her sealed in tight, we slid the crate under an shelf of some sort, stacking old boards and straw around it to conceal it from view. With that finished, we sat and discussed her plight and our plans to return home, then retrieve her sometime the next day. We spoke loudly, so that she could hear us. Our plans finalized, we said our good-byes and left her, stored naked and bound alone in an abandoned barn.
As far as my wife knew, her situation was dire, She had been left naked and helpless, gagged, bound, and filled, packed and sealed in a cramped little crate, miles from home in a decrepit old barn. She had no idea where she was, no hope of escape, and no clothing if she did. Even if she could free herself from her bonds and her box, she would be doomed to wander for miles naked down dark country roads.
She was trapped.
There my wife remained, stored away helpless in the barn, listening to crickets chirping at night and an occasional car speed by on the road.
The next day we returned and loaded her up, still packed away in her box for the ride home. For us, the return trip was a short drive. The house, on our friend’s family’s farm, was less than a quarter of a mile away from the barn. Of course, my wife didn’t know that. When we arrived home, we unloaded her crate in the garage. It seemed such a shame to release her too quickly after such a long drive, so we left her there for the rest of the afternoon.
I had wanted to "up the stakes" for her a bit. I tried to arrange for some men that she didn't know to "party" at the barn that night, sitting around, drinking and joking, as though we had somehow inadventantly picked a barn that was a local hangout for kids sneeking away to drink. I thought it would be fun for her to sit, naked and trapped in her crate, fearing discovery while strangers "unknowingly" sat there, possibly using her crate as a table or a stool.
Unfortunately, as has always been the case, there were no volunteers.