Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

The Box

by Tony B

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© Copyright 2008 - Tony B - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; gag; corset; trunk; boxed; cons; X

When I woke up, it took me a few seconds to remember where I was.

I was surrounded by darkness, and I was in my box again.

George liked to keep me in my box while I slept.  The worst part of it was in not knowing how long he was going to keep me in the box this time, and I had to pee!  Lately, he had been keeping me in the box longer and longer each day.  He was “conditioning me”, he said.

But let me start at the beginning…..

It started out as a bondage game.  George would tie me to the bed and make love to me.  That was pretty good – I enjoyed it.  Our love life was pretty good.  He got me off regularly, and I had no complaints.  I knew he loved me, and I was not afraid of letting him tie me up and having his way with me.

Over time, the bondage became more restrictive, as he continued to tie me to the bed in various positions while he had sex with me.  He introduced me to anal sex.  It hurt the first couple of times, but I soon became accustomed to taking it that way, and learned to like it.  I liked letting him do things to me.  And I was not afraid!

When we went for a drive, he tied my hands behind my back, and let his friends see me that way.  They knew he was into bondage, and that I was his willing ‘victim’.  And I was not afraid!

The bondage increased as he learned new ways to tie me up and use my body for his own pleasure.  I was no longer getting as many orgasms as before, and sometimes it was painful.  He frequently gagged me so I couldn’t protest, but I knew he loved me, and I was not afraid.

One day, he bought an old steamer trunk at a rummage sale, and brought it home.  Our bondage game increased again.  Once he had me tied and gagged, he pushed me into the trunk, closed the lid and locked it.  I didn’t know how long he was going to keep me there, but I was not afraid.

A couple of weeks later, he brought home an old army footlocker, tied my hands and feet, and shoved the gag in my mouth.  He made me lie down in the foot locker.  Then he closed the lid and locked it.  I was excited, but I was still not afraid.

A month passed as I learned to accept being imprisoned for an hour or so every day in the footlocker, and because I was being conditioned slowly, I was not afraid of  being locked into it.

The frequency of our sex life had diminished because I spent so much time locked in the footlocker.  And even when I was out of the locker, I spent much of the day tied up.  But he never really hurt me, so I was not afraid.

One day, he showed me “The Box”, which he had specially built for me.  I could lie down in the box full length, to prevent the cramps in my legs, and the bruises on my skin from the cramped confines of the foot locker.  I was already tied, hand and foot, and was gagged, so he lifted me in his arms, and gently lowered me into the box and closed the lid.  I could hear him click the padlock closed, securing the lid.  As I lay there in darkness, feeling the hardness of the wood against my skin, I was not afraid.

I grew to like laying in the box, totally nude, while I was tied and gagged.  He kept me there as long as he wanted, but it was seldom more than a few hours.  Still, I was not afraid!

He made some foam rubber pillows out of an old mattress, that he could wedge between my body and the box.  The wedges totally surrounded my body, and held me tightly in place.  There was little air, and it was hard to breathe.  But when he released me and played with my body, I was not afraid.

A couple of weeks later,  he laced me tightly into a black leather corset he bought at a garage sale.  It was tight, didn’t fit well, and hurt my ribs.  I could only catch my breath in short gasps.  Naturally, I was both tied and gagged, and he added a blindfold so I was in total darkness.  But I knew that he loved me, and wouldn’t hurt me, so I was not afraid.

George was keeping me in the box longer and longer every day.  Eventually, he made me sleep in the box at night, as well as lying in the box during the day.  My only pleasure came when he took me out of the box, and used my body for his own pleasure.  I forgot how to orgasm – or that I had ever been able to.  At least he took me out of the box every few hours so I could go to the bathroom, and I was not afraid.

One day, I heard him nail the cover shut on the box.  I could hear his voice through the rubber wedges and the box as he told me he had sold me on eBay, and was shipping me to my new owner.  I heard him apply the shipping label to the top of the box.  I knew I was on my way to the Middle East where I would be sold into slavery.  This time, I was damn well afraid!!!



Copyright 2008 (Name Withheld)
All Rights Reserved



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