Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

Formula 54

by Darkraptor1

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© Copyright 2012 - Darkraptor1 - Used by permission

Storycodes: M+/ff; latex; cocoon; captive; bond; drugged; mast; torment; buried; sealed; reluct/nc; X

Based on an idea by Hypercat


The clock was ticking. Even now, well after midnight, when nobody was around, the chief was anxious. Secret midnight rendezvous at abandoned prisons could have great repercussions if they were caught.

"Where are they?"

"On their way," his assistant said.

"Good. Doc?"

The prison doctor opened his stainless steel case and pulled out a syringe, depressing the plunger ever so slightly. A small squirt of green liquid squirted onto the floor. "The formula is ready."


"Relax chief. If this goes according to plan, we'll all be very rich. Nobody's going to be coming around here. After all, you have the keys to this place, right?"

"I do doc. But if this gets out, we're all going to be in a mess of trouble."

There was a distant clang as a giant pair of gates opened, followed by footsteps. But the chief wasn't nervous. This was expected.

The door to the underground cells was opened, one of his deputies entering. "Sir, they're here."

"Bring 'em in."

Two push carts were wheeled into the room. A squirming form was strapped to each one.

The chief eyed the two women, oogling their forms, Sealed head to toe in thick, body hugging latex sheathes, they were squirming for all they were worth, fighting against their bonds. Seeing them strapped down so helplessly, he found his desire and arousal rising. He would have loved to take them and have his way, but knew that this was not the time. This meeting was strictly business, not pleasure.

He walked over, inspecting them more closely, rubbing his hands over their coated bodies. Imprisoned beneath an inch of latex, they squirmed under his touch with delightful intensity, trying to get away. The belts securing them to the hand trucks ensured they weren't going anywhere.

"Looks like everything's in order," he said. "I gotta tell ya doc, this stuff is amazing." He pinched the latex, tried to grab it, but the material remained firm and unyielding. "They've got anything on underneath this?"

"No," the doctor said, reviewing some charts. "They're as naked as the day they were born."

The chief smiled. "All right, let's get this underway," he stepped aside. "Doc?"

The doctor walked over, the syringe in hand.

"Tell me again, what does this stuff do?" the other guard asked.

"This is an experimental serum our good chief recovered in a drug raid," the doctor said. "Code named Formula 54. Essentially a libido drug, it is supposed to skyrocket the sex drive, so much so that a human will want to have sex with anyone or anything around them. These two will be our first test subjects."

"Why the secrecy?"

"If we can perfect and sell it, we'd have so much money we'd be set for five lifetimes. Can you even imagine how much money the public would pay to get a drug that sends your sex drive through the roof?"

The guard thought. "A pretty penny."

"Indeed." The guard looked at how much they were squirming. "Looks to me like they had second thoughts doc."

"They only volunteered for the drug. I didn't tell them about the latex," the doctor said with a smile. "I wanted to test out my latest, unbreakable latex material. So far, that test has been working splendidly."

"Who are they, anyway?"

"Antoinette and Bonnie, a pair of lovely interns. I'm sure that once they experience the joy of this drug, they'll be more than happy to volunteer for any other experiments I may conceive."

Walking up to the first woman, the doctor pushed the needle into a small piece of exposed flesh and injected the liquid. Pulling the syringe out, he squirted some of the latex on, which then covered up the skin and merged seamlessly with the rest of the sheath. Going over to the second woman, he repeated the procedure.

"So what now?"

The doctor put the empty syringe into a sealed bag. "We wait. It will only be a few minutes."

The women went still, no longer attempting to escape. In fact, it seemed as if they were asleep, as they were perfectly still, the only sign of life coming from the slow rise and fall of their chests.

Then the first one began to struggle, fighting against her straps. The second woman followed a few seconds later, and soon both were thrashing against their bindings, their muffled moaning and groaning audible even through the latex.

"Fascinating," the doctor said. "It's working faster then I expected."

The women were screaming now, fighting against their belts as hard as they could manage, bucking and kicking, squirming as if in a mad frenzy.

"How long is this going to last doc?" The chief asked.

"I'm not sure. Could be a few minutes, or it could be a few hours."

The women were thrusting themselves into the straps, knocking the carts over. But after landing on the ground, they thrashed on the ground, pressing their groins into the cement, trying to stimulate themselves.

"Fascinating!" the doctor said. "The dosage apparently is twice as potent as I imagined!"

The chief walked over and undid the straps on the hand trucks, lifting one of the women to her feet. He could feel her struggling within her cocoon, fighting to turn and press herself onto him, to achieve physical union. Simply feeling her latex pressing itself up against him was intoxicating.

"You said these ladies would try to have sex with anyone or anything?"


"Then let's see how they react to each other."

The second woman was unstrapped, and the two were pressed together. For a moment they went still, as if surprised to actually be touching each other. Then they began to writhe and struggle, pressing against each other, thrusting their groins, even though it was impossible to have their vaginas touch. That small fact however, wasn't enough to stop them from trying.

"Oh my," the doctor said. "Two heterosexual women fighting to have sex with each other, I think this experiment was a resounding success."

As the doc scribbled down some notes, the chief's radio crackled.


"Chief, we got trouble!" A voice on the other end said. "The mayor thinks you're up to something and he's sending in a squad to check it out!"

"Shit. Doc, get your stuff out of here! Now!"

"Already on it." His suitcase was latched shut. "I shall join you all later, after I've analyzed my data."

As he ran out, the guard looked at the two women. "What do we do with them? It's going to take too long to get them out to the truck."

The chief looked around, spotted a small hole in the ground. "Here, the obuliete."

"The what?"

"It's a small coffin sized cell built for one person. Nobody will look for them there."

"But how are we going to fit both in?"

The chief held up several straps and belts. "Tie them up."

The two quickly went to work, wrapping the belts around the two women, buckling them together, until they were nothing more then a single wiggling unit fighting to get even the slightest stimulation, the belts effortlessly holding them together.

The trap door was opened. With the cell's tiny size, it was difficult to shove the two in, but the chief and his guard managed, shoving them in feet first, until they were tightly nestled inside, pressing their mouths together in a futile attempt to kiss.

The lid was closed, sealing the two inside. A lock was put in place, ensuring that nobody would be getting inside any time soon.

"All right, let's get out of here. We tell the mayor that we were investigating an attempted break in, capishe?"

"Right chief."

"Good man." The chief looked down at the trap door. "Lucky gals, wish I had someone that horny trying to kiss me."

"If we get that drug perfected, we will."

The two smiled, leaving.

They did run into the group sent by the mayor, but their cover story worked fine. The chief planned to come back and get the two women the next day, only to discover that the building had been given an overnight demolition job, where it would be bulldozed to the ground, the basement sealed up, never to be accessed again.

He never did find out if the mayor had somehow found out about their scheme, but if he did, the mayor was going to ensure that the group would never meet in the building again.

Deep inside their tiny tomb, Antoinette and Bonnie squirmed and struggled, restrained and encased inside their latex cocoons, arms and legs immobilized, their mouths sealed, their horny genitals touching, yet kept separate from each other. Unaware of their impending entombment, they didn't care. In their drug induced stupor, they didn't have a care in the world as they lived out the rest of their short lives in total bliss.


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