© Copyright 2015 - anonseven77 - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/m; straps; casket; catheter; intubate; electro; encase; entomb; buried; dirt; concrete; stuck; tease; torment; denial; cons; XX
My heart pounded in my ears almost as loud as the dirt pounding on the lid of the casket that was only inches above my face. I had asked for this, dreamed and fantasized about it for years, but I was quickly finding that my dreams and fantasies where a lot different than the hard cold reality of being buried alive.
I strained against the straps that held me down, but it was useless. The leather straps were very tight, very secure, and held me nearly motionless. If only I hadn't been so determined to feel like a prisoner, a captive. If only I hadn't insisted that I be strapped down so tightly.
The straps had felt so good when they were first put on. I could remember as each one was applied. The first had gone over my chest and was pulled tight, not so tight that I couldn't breath, but tight enough that I knew it was there. Next was a strap at my waist, then another at the top of each thigh. More straps were tightened above and below my knees, then at my ankles.
He moved back up and strapped my shoulders down before securing me above and below my elbows and at my wrists. Of course I had to be strapped down at the neck, and another over my forehead. Finally blocks of padded wood were strapped into place against the sides of my head so that I couldn't even turn it from side to side. I couldn't move at all when he was done.
Before he had even started with the straps though, I had made sure that my needs would be taken care of. I had endured a catheter being worked into me. My dick was encased in a metal tube, and my balls were squeezed into a metal shell. A hollow plug was fitted up my hole, and a tube filled that. All of this metal was connected with wires to a machine that could send electrical impulses that could pleasure, or torment me, as he desired.
Other tubes went up my nose. One allowed me to breath, the other filled my stomach. My mouth was filled completely with a gag. It held a tube that could be used to feed me air or liquid or other things.
I had asked for this level of confinement. I had asked for all of it. But now that it was happening, I was terrified.
Every few seconds more earth pounded down on the lid of my casket, burying me deeper and deeper. I knew the casket was at the bottom of a deep hole. Soon, I would be buried under six feet of soil. My heart pounded faster and louder.
I felt the first sting of electricity in my crotch, and I could feel myself getting hard. It grew stronger and came in waves. My penis grew and filled the tube. It was just a little too small and added to the pleasure/pain.
The pounding of the earth continued, but it wasn't quite as loud now. That scared me even more because I knew what it meant. There was now a layer of dirt on top of me. Six inches. Maybe a foot. It was growing deeper every moment.
I wanted to listen to each shovelful, hear it as it landed, but it was too hard to concentrate on with my cock and balls being stimulated so. The waves of current rose higher and higher, making me harder and harder. I desperately wanted to cum. I was so close. So very very close. If I could have moved, if I could have just touched myself for a moment I could have gone over the edge.
Then the current stopped.
I screamed into the gag!
I was so close, but I was denied.
As my heart slowed, and the pounding diminished in my ears, I realized that I could barely hear the sound of the earth falling anymore, and my anxiety increased again.
I knew that there were only minutes before I would be completely buried. Minutes before I was fully entombed in my grave.
This had all started as a game. It was just for fun. Kinky fun to be sure, but just harmless fun.
I had met him online. We made plans. It was all in fun. I was to be buried for a couple of days. No more.
That's what I agreed to. That's what he agreed to.
He strapped me down. He hooked me up. Then, when I was totally helpless and at his mercy, that was when he looked down on me and told me the truth.
I thought he was kidding at first. Just trying to set the mood. He assured me that he was very serious.
"Do you really think I'd go to all of this trouble, and then dig you up again?"
That's what sent me into my panic.
I can tell now that he's filled in the grave. I've been buried alive. Strapped down as I am, there is no way I'll ever be able to free myself.
I close my eyes and try to sleep. I try to convince myself that he was only playing a game, trying to frighten me.
I wake up and don't remember where I am. Struggling to move, I finally remember and a new wave of panic and fear overwhelms me.
A long time passes and I see nothing, hear nothing, feel... nothing.
I drift in and out of sleep. Half the time I don't know if I'm really asleep or awake.
It feels like I should be hungry or thirsty, but I never am. The only thing I can figure out is that he must be warming whatever he is feeding me up to my body temperature so that I don't feel in enter me.
My arms and legs are numb from not moving, but I don't feel sore. I don't even really want to move much anymore. Maybe he's drugging me?
I spend my time thinking back to everything I said to him. Every email. Every phone call. I go over everything in my mind. There's something nagging at the back of my head that I just can't recall. Something...
Suddenly I feel something wet on my foot. A drop of liquid. Then another. That's when I remember what was nagging at me.
The drop becomes a flow. It is wet and thick and it pours in... slowly. It piles up at my feet, and then slowly oozes towards my head.
It was something that I had mentioned in passing. It wasn't something I wanted done, only a fantasy I had read about. If I was right, it was no longer a fantasy.
It felt like mud as it covered my legs and oozed up the casket. It had reached my hands now and wasn't stopping. More and more poured in, and as the pile grew, it continued to spread.
I rubbed it in my fingers and felt the grit. With the way my nose was plugged up I couldn't smell it, but I knew what it would smell like. I knew that if there was any light I would have seen it as a gray sludge.
There was nothing I could do as it touched the back of my head and continued to rise. It filled in all of the space around me, and still continued to rise. My arms were covered now and still it rose more and more.
I felt as it crept over the top of my legs and then my stomach. I started to breath more deeply, and moved my chest in the hopes that it would leave me room to breath later on when it solidified.
I knew what it was by now. It was just a fantasy. It wasn't supposed to happen, but I knew what it was. It was concrete, and soon it would grow hard and I'd be encased in it.
I layed there helplessly as it rose over my face and over my chest. I was now covered in the gray goo, waiting only a moment more for it to totally fill my casket.
I hoped there would be enough room for me to breath after it hardened. Enough room to move my chest just a fraction of an inch, and I wondered how long it would take for it to set.
I didn't wonder long though, as I couldn't stay awake. He must have feed me something to knock me out, because the next thing I knew the concrete was fully set.
If I thought I was tied down tightly before, I was wrong. Now I really couldn't move a muscle. I could still breath, barely, but nothing else moved. Every finger, every toe, even my eyelids were locked down tight.
Now I knew that I was never getting out of this. I was truly in my grave, my final resting place.
Oddly enough that knowledge removed all of my fear.
I had dreamed and fantasized about this for a long time. Now that it was a real, cold, hard, inescapable fact, somehow I could accept it.
For the first time since this whole thing started I just relaxed.
No longer would I have to worry about paying the rent. No longer would I have to worry about going to work. No longer would I have to worry about... well... anything.
From time to time he turned on the electricity and tormented/pleasured me. It didn't happen often, but often enough. I enjoyed it.
I'm sure it's been several months now, and I'm still at peace with my new life under the ground. I just wish I had started it sooner.
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