Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

Postal Chess

by Jo

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© Copyright 2012 - Jo - Used by permission

Storycodes: M+/f+; naked; crates; boxed; packaged; delivery; insert; oral; sex; cons; X

Beckett read the note again and chuckled. Bxc6. He stepped over to the board, moved James' bishop to c6, and removed his own piece. He smiled. "Walk into my parlour," said the spider to the fly.

Call it an affectation or nostalgia, a throwback to earlier, slower times, but he and James enjoyed their games of postal chess. Yes, it was expensive, but they were both in a position to afford the extra expense of this minor indulgence.


I know I shouldn't read their notes. They often write of very personal things. But they are people of means and I want to be a man of means, so if I can look over their shoulders, as it were, I do. I'm also a chess nut. Bxc6. It took me a couple of days to see the problem, but with that move it was mate in five. Well played, Beckett. Well played. The phone rang.

"PCS, this is Phil."

"Yes. I need to arrange a delivery."

"Sure thing. What manner of delivery? A letter? A package?"

"A document, but it must be delivered today and in person and then returned."

"Not a problem. Just give me the delivery information and I'll have someone there within thirty minutes."

As I hung up the phone, Ginny walked in. She had been on a three-day delivery and I give the girls a day off after, but she's always passed. She has pale skin and short, black hair. Kind of has a Goth thing going on. And she must save a bunch of money on underwear, because the way things are moving she's not wearing any. Never has that I recall.


"Hey, girl. Nothing big at the moment, but I just got a call. Some documents from an office downtown to another office on the north side. Client is Peyton. Won't pay much. Pocket change."

Ginny rubbed her thumb and fingers together in the universal sign of money. Ginny is a greedy little bitch. (And I mean that with all due respect and affection.)

"It's all good, Phil. Where am I on the list?"

"Kelly is out now. You're two back, but a special request could come in."

"Yeah. Love those special requests."

Ginny is not a lifestyle submissive, but that's what she does. It's a job. She works at it and it shows. Of my dozen girls, she and Paula are my most, er, profitable. She takes the delivery sheet and heads out the door.

I specialize in postal chess, hence the company name: Postal Chess Services. It was a whim. Who would pay for a delivery service to deliver chess moves? But most players are older and well off. That and I have incorporated other services into the business ... and I make a decent profit

I know the clients Ginny would visit: a man and his son-in-law. The father always likes having first crack at the girls, the other left with sloppy seconds. Although, honestly, my girls aren't sloppy. Well, except in this case. Dad likes to rub son's nose in the fact that he, the son, lives off his wife's (being, in fact, dad's) money. So they play their game of postal chess and screw the delivery girl and Ginny will have to stew in her own juices for a bit.

The phone rings. It's a package this time, a return and forward. I make the call.

"Taylor, you're up. Package."

"Great! I was getting worried. It's been a bit slow lately."

I climb in the van, make the drive. The house is big - really big. I'm met at the back door by one of the staff. She says nothing, so I roll the hand truck into place and trundle the box across the drive. I come back to the house and accept an envelope. My clients have established accounts, but some like to tip the girls in cash.

Back at the office I pry the lid off the box, remove the packing material. Alicia accepts my hand and I help her out of the box. She's gorgeous, looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. She certainly has the body for it with her small tits and slim hips. Her wavy, blonde hair is perfect. Her clothes, a modest white blouse and navy skirt are, likewise, perfect. I don't know how she does it.

"God. I need a cigarette."

I'm ahead of her and am already proffering a pack. She lights up.

"Thanks. Jesus, it makes me crazy. He smokes, but won't let me. And don't give me that look. I know. He pays well, and, yeah, I should quit the habit."

I hand her the envelope and the combination of nicotine and cold, hard cash brightens her mood.

Taylor waltzes in a half hour later. Waltzes. Literally. She's happy, obviously.

"Special request? I mean, I wasn't supposed to be up yet."

"Yeah. DelGado."

"Yeah, I kind of figured. Haven't seen him for a while."

Maurice DelGado is an odd duck. He won't screw the girls; he plays chess with them. And Taylor is my strongest player, though all my girls have at least a rudimentary knowledge of the game. Strip chess is a popular request and, as you might expect, some of my clients like to lose. Tanya, Mistress Tanya, is very good as chastising poor players for their errors. And Ginny, with her sloppy play, is often on the receiving end of the discipline. Yin yang.

Taylor strips down. She has that fresh-scrubbed look and that fresh, girl smell. While some clients request various outfits of sort, Taylor will spend the weekend nude.

Each girl has her own box and I drag Taylor's out, lift the lid, pull out the packing. She takes the tube and spreads her legs. The tube disappears and she climbs in the box. I arrange the packing around her sides, lay the thick blanket over her, check that there's a place for her to breathe, set the lid, and nail it in place. I make the drive to DelGado's place in a bit over an hour.


Beckett held out his hand. The girl placed a warm brandy snifter in it.

"Thank you, my dear."

"You're welcome, Sir."

The girl slipped to her knees, fumbled his cock from his pants, and commenced to suck it. Now that James had fallen into his trap he needed give little thought as to his next move. He chuckled at the thought that his next move involved the delivery girl, a petite redhead with enormous tits. Later she would take his cock and rub it between those tits, but now she was kneeling, half draped across his leg, sucking softly.

Tomorrow he would write his response on a slip of paper, roll it up, slide it into a plastic tube, slide the tube into the girl's pussy. He would put her back into the box, replace the packing, hammer the lid back in place. He would call the delivery service and they would come and fetch the box. Beckett made a mental note to request an Asian next time. It had been a while since he had an Asian.


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