Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

The Pond

by Jo

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2011 - Jo - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; D/s; collar; cuffs; tape; wrap; buried; pond; water; condition; cons; X

I held the spoon up to Patti's lips. She slurped, swallowed.

"Thank you, Master."

"You don't remember anything?"

She shook her head. "No, Master. You know how I zone out when you wrap me."

"Mm. What do you remember?"

"I remember you wrapping me and standing me in the window-"

"Go back to the beginning. You know how I like you to tell me these things."

"Yes, Master. May I have more chowder?"

"No. One bowl is enough for now."

"Yes. Master. I guess it started Friday. Is today really Wednesday?"


"God. Well, Friday you forbade me to eat anything and when I got home from work you gave me the pill and I spent the rest of the night on the toilet. Just before bed you gave me two enemas. I figured you had something planned for Saturday, something that would last all day, maybe all weekend."

"Saturday morning you didn't remove my collar and cuffs, so I crawled from the bedroom to the kitchen. You weren't there, which was odd because no matter what slave mode I'm in you always feed me, even if it's just scraps from your plate."

"You called me into the living room. I crawled in and I saw the rolls of tape, so I knew you planned to wrap me and since my system was empty it was going to be a long session."

"You unlocked my collar and cuffs, then you picked up a roll of tape and stuck the end just above my tits. You wrapped it around my chest and arms and worked your way down over my tits and belly, legs, down to my ankles. You did that three times and I was getting woozy. It's the tape. It becomes part of me, like my own skin. It's not like rope where there's me and it. The tape is my new skin and as you add a layer I lose my sense of touch and as my sense of touch dims, so does my brain."

"May I have more beer, Master?"

I held the bottle up to her lips.

"Thank you, Master."

"Anyway, as I lose my senses, it's like parts of my brain shut down."

"You wrapped over my shoulders and around my neck. You put the mouthpiece in my mouth and wrapped my head. You left a small gap over my eyes, but by then I was pretty much gone."

"I remember you laying me on the floor to wrap my feet, then you picked me up and stood me in the window. I assume you tied me in place because there's no way I could stand there on my own."

"It gets all kinds of dreamy from here. I remember you were outside and you had the pond, the plastic liner thing. And you were digging. It seemed not to take too long. Oh, right, you rototilled it for the garden a couple of months ago. So we're going to have a pond now?"

"Can't get anything to grow there. May as well do something else with it. Go on."

"Yes, Master."

"That's about all I remember. I remember the sky. I think I was outside and then you taped over my eyes. And I remember hallucinating or maybe lucid dreaming. But that's about it."

"Was I really buried for four days?"



I popped open the computer, clicked on an image, and put the machine in slide-show mode. Whenever I do a serious scene I always take pictures. I use two cameras, one slaved to the other, and a remote for the shutter.

The screen showed Patti crawling into the living room, standing naked at various stages of being wrapped, then standing in the window.

When I finished digging out the pond, I excavated another, smaller hole in the middle. I went inside and retrieved Patti, laid her in the small hole, and taped over her eyes.

I laid a 2x4 across the hole. The mouthpiece is a modified snorkel with a threaded nipple glued in the hole. I screwed a length of PVC pipe to the nipple and lashed it to the board. Then I filled the hole.

On the screen Patti could see herself, wrapped, laying in the hole. With each image the dirt built up around her until she was at the bottom of a small valley. I shoveled dirt over her feet, up her legs, covered her belly and tits, then, finally, her head. I had been working slowly up to that point, enjoying the experience, but now I just piled in the dirt.

I untied the pipe from the board, tossed the board aside, and dragged the sheet of plywood into the hole. I aligned the pipe with a hole in the ply, set it in place. I walked around on it to set it into the dirt. The small hole was 2x6 and the ply was 4x8. The idea being to spread the weight of the water.

When the ply was a hair below ground level, I dumped in several bags of sand, adding a couple of inches to the bottom of the hole. Then came the pond.

It, too, had a hole in it. I positioned it over the pipe and eased it into the ground. I slathered sealant around the hole, over the threads, and worked a large washer down the pipe. I followed it with more goop and a flanged nut. It was time for the water.

It took a while. As the pond filled I busied myself with the rocks and plants. I piled four bricks around the pipe and set the base of the Japanese lantern on them. I added the body, then the cap. I placed several water plants in the pond. And I spent the rest of the time arranging rocks and plants around the edge. They're not the nicest plants, but the guy assured me they'd grow anywhere. We'll see.

It dawned on me the last thing Patti needed was an unwanted guest, so I slipped the toe of a stocking over the pipe.

Twice a day for the next three days I set up an IV drip. It provided her with plenty of water without her having to actively swallow. It was one of those fortified waters and I added a little something to put her to sleep and something else to wake her up.

This morning I woke her up and drained the pond.

When I pulled her from the hole I wiped off the dirt and carried her into the house. Patti is a well-trained subbie, but given the extended period of sensory deprivation, I thought I'd take the opportunity to reenforce some of her training, now that she was most susceptible. When I got the tape off her, I locked her collar and cuffs on her neck, wrists, and ankles. I locked her ankles together and her wrists behind her back. I fed her the chowder, her favorite comfort food. I wanted her first experience to be helpless and owned by her caring master, from whom all good things come.

I fed her the last of the beer.

"Thank you, Master."

"I still find it hard to believe you don't remember anything."

Patti shrugged. "It's the tape, Master."

Note to self: Next time use rope.




If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
Packaged Stories