Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

Signed, Sealed & Delivered

by Yoni Steele

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© Copyright 2004 - Yoni Steele - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; boxed; delivered; bond; wrap; tape; cocoon; enclosed; encased; kidnap; tease; oral; mast; climax; cons/nc; X

Damn you, Asahi! What the hell have you gotten me into? Do you ever check out your clients beforehand? This guy is some kind of a wicked freak! And now he has decided to steal me! No, I don’t mean kidnap; you won’t get a ransom note because he plans to keep me! ME!!! Your best -- and if I do say so myself -- your best looking, bustiest, and most creative worker!

And he’s really cocky (he-he) about it, too. He is giving me this chance to tell you what he has done with me. I’ll give you as many details as I can, and hopefully, you can use it to catch him and find me. Obviously he is a bit on the arrogant side if he thinks that this really won’t make any difference. Hopefully, you will prove him wrong and eliminate this nasty shmuck! (After you rescue me, of course.)

So I’ll just start at the beginning. After I was delivered to his hotel room, I popped out of the box in all of my naked glory and introduced myself, “Hi, I’m Brenda, and I’m all yours.” He was sitting on the huge bed. Your little man, the guy I call Peckerhead, opened the box for him. My first reaction was that he was gorgeous! It was instantly obvious that he was an American or western European, not another Japanese. (I suppose that under normal circumstances, I’d thank you for sending me to an American as it’s a nice change of pace for me; but given my current situation, it is a little bit hard to be appreciative.) Even though he was fully clothed, I could tell that he was quite muscular; for a brief second I wondered if he was one of those assholes who use steroids to build up the visible muscles at the expense of the hidden ones down below! But I glanced down and saw a nicely bulging package in his black suit pants.

Well, I definitely liked his looks immediately. He had a strong face with a square jaw, thin lips, and deep blue eyes. I loved those eyes! Unlike the last two goons you sent me to see, this guy was clean-shaven, which was a nice change; but this guy looked so good in every other way that I probably would have overlooked a mustache, maybe even a tight-cut beard. I’d have to guess that he was just a little bit over 200 centimeters tall, maybe 205. I didn’t want to guess his weight because guys like him, with that tough build, are usually hard to judge. He looks like a competitive swimmer, rather than a body-builder, but that subject never came up while we were talking; at any rate, he’s definitely an athlete, and that thought pleased me, too. Hmm, that’s an important point. There’s an international swimming competition going on this week downtown at the University; maybe he is a coach for one of the teams.

Well, my time is limited, so I better get back to my story. As soon as he saw me, he smiled and, with a charming Brooklyn accent, said, “Very, very nice. Tell Asahi that he outdid himself with this one.” (From that statement I got the impression that he had dealt with you before.) Then he signed the delivery slip on the clipboard, which he handed back to Peckerhead, who promptly left with your two other delivery boys. The big, blond American immediately picked up a camera and started taking pictures of me “for his scrap book.” So I posed in several different positions for him. He had lots of lights set up, just like we use in your studio for the web pictures. At first they were just the standard stuff that you’d see in any Japanese Geisha magazine, but then he told me, “Please play with yourself, Brenda. I’m sure you know how to warm yourself up for me.”

I was a little bit surprised by that as I usually go to play with the customer and not with myself, but I figured, hey, it’s his dollar! And besides, I’ve enjoyed playing with myself since I was just a kid back in Wisconsin in the United States, long before I ever moved over here to Japan. Looking at that hunk and fantasizing about the things to come (if you know what I mean) made it real easy for me to get turned on. I just imagined that my fingers were his and did the things that I wanted him to do to me. While his camera clicked away, I looked wickedly at him and massaged myself all over. He had some classical music playing in the background so I just did whatever the music seemed to dictate: standing, sitting on a wooden, armless desk chair, kneeling, then sitting again with my legs spread wide in a split on the thick, plush, green carpet, etc. I was really getting into it, and after a while I just forgot that he was there recording everything.

After half an hour or so, he invited me to sit down on the bed together with him. As I stood up and walked over to him he finally took off his jacket and tie, both of which he meticulously folded and placed over the back of a chair. I helped him with his dress shirt, which I could tell was rather expensive. He smiled at me as I undid the buttons, pulled it up out of his pants, and slipped it back off his shoulders. When I tried to remove his T-shirt, he rather firmly told me, “Not yet.” Then I made a move to unbuckle his pants, but he just pushed my hand away and sat down on the edge of the big bed.

I snuggled up against him between his legs, my bare back and long black hair against his chest, and my butt nuzzled up real tight against his crotch. Then he got me all hot by reaching around to play with my knockers and nipples. I was already very warmed up from playing with myself for so long, which, as I already said, was a real turn-on. But Lambert – sort of an odd first name – was an expert. His big hands were almost big enough to cup my hefty hooters, but not quite; I could tell that he was pleased with their big size, ‘cause he spent a lot of time fondling them, and his peter started to sprout in his pants against my ass. That was only part of it, though. This guy really knew how to tweak my buds, rubbing and twisting them so the electricity started flowing in no time at all. When I started to moan he stuck one hand down between my legs and started to diddle my clitty. Fuck, he was good! I don’t think that it took more than five minutes for him to give me a mind-blowing, bed-wetting climax. And he didn’t even have his pants off yet!

While I was coming down, he took a minute to connect his camera to his computer. He then gave me a Blue Velvet to drink and showed the pictures to me on his laptop PC. (He was using one of those very expensive digital cameras with the changeable lenses). I was impressed. He took some really good pictures of me which made me suspect that he might be a professional photographer, not just another horny tourist. I know that the room was very nicely furnished – one of the best in the hotel, probably – but he made me look great compared to all of the beautiful decorations. Surprisingly, some of the pictures were close-ups just of my face as I was lost in lust and pleasure. I think he said something like, “Yes, the pictures are excellent. You will be perfect for the job.” He tilted my head back and kissed me softly on the cheek. It was actually sorta romantic.

Since I thought that I was already working, his statement struck me as a little bit odd so I asked him what he meant, but he just told me not to worry. I was still sitting on the bed between his legs, and he started playing with me again. Between moans of “Mmmm” and shrieks of “Ahhh” and a few other assorted groans, I asked him if he didn’t want me to take care of him as he had a pretty obvious problem poking me hard in my butt crack, but he just replied, “Not yet, my dear. Not yet.” I reached my arms up and back to hold his head. That was a mistake because he started to nibble and lick my neck. That was so unfair! That just drives me bananas because the back of my neck is so sensitive.

So we just sat there for a while longer. His hands were manipulating my boobs with at least as much expertise as my Lesbian lover, Renee; his hot lips and wet tongue were driving me wild with gentle nibbles and kisses on the back of my neck and shoulders. I was in heaven! He actually made me cum again, without even touching my pussy! When I shivered because of my climax, he reached down and started rubbing my clit and finger-fucking me again. He got me going so hard that I started shaking and rocking, riding up and down on his hand. I totally lost control. But he just kept doing things to me with his hands and fingers. My juices were flowing out like lava from Mt. Fuji. I just couldn’t stop! Oh Asahi, it felt sooooo good; I sure as shit didn’t want him to stop! Nearly all the guys you send me to see are rough and coarse, concentrating on their own pleasure, but this was positively sensual heaven.

And that’s when things got funny. Not “ha-ha” funny, but weird funny. My arms suddenly got all weak, and then I just couldn’t feel them any more. My legs, which were tingly and buzzing with erotic convulsions, suddenly seemed to disappear. They weren’t just numb, Asahi; it was like all my limbs weren’t there any more. It scared the hell outa me, and I tried to scream; but my throat had no more sensation than my arms and legs. Nothing came out! Even my eyes didn’t seem able to focus any more! I didn’t know what had happened to me; I truly panicked that I would fall over or pass out, but he held me tight. I felt sick to my stomach, but not sick enough to puke or anything. And that was good since I couldn’t really feel my lips either. So trying to puke would have been a really bad thing.

But you know what’s really weird? I could still feel his fingers plunging inside of me and pressing on my breasts. Incredibly, he was still stoking my fires, driving me to another climax, even more powerful than the previous ones. My mind was petrified, but my body – at least what I could feel of it – didn’t care; I was rushing up towards another explosion in my pussy despite the fact that something was terribly wrong. Lambert had turned me into a disembodied sex machine running on autopilot; I was nothing but a vibrating pussy. Without warning, my twat exploded like a grenade; and the waves of burning bliss traveled like a firestorm up to my tits right to the points of my nipples. I think that every organ in my body was hit with a shockwave of pure, erotic energy. My mind was blasted with emotions that were truly overpowering; the room disappeared among a flurry of brilliant, multicolored flashes. The only thing that I could do was cum and cum and CUM!

Just seconds before I had been terrified because my body had become dead to almost all external sensation and to all conscious commands to move; but my mind was so totally flooded with such intense waves of pleasure rushing through me that nothing else mattered. I’ve been with lots of guys, but none of them have ever made me feel as totally overwhelmed with sexual energy and …and …oh, shit, I don’t even know how to describe how good I felt. It was truly incredible!

The sensations won out. I stopped thinking about the fact that I had basically become a toy doll, and just let the moment overwhelm me. And it really did. The sexquakes just kept getting stronger and stronger. I finally passed out because the intensity of my orgasms had essentially become more than I could tolerate any more. Shit, I don’t even know how many times I erupted; but it was more than I ever had before!

When I finally woke up later in the day, I was still totally drained of energy. Blinking was actually an effort, but at least I could blink even though I didn’t consider the significance of that at the time. I think that it was late. There wasn’t a trace of sunlight coming through the heavy drapes as there had been when I arrived, which as you know was just after lunch time. In addition, I saw Lambert sitting in a chair reading a newspaper; he was yawning intermittently. He definitely seemed to be tired.

Instinctively, I tried to stretch out to relieve some of the cramps in my muscles and found, with some level of relief, that I did have feelings in my limbs again, but it didn’t make any difference. I was thoroughly wrapped up in plastic, from my neck down to my feet. My body felt a little weird, too, and I couldn’t guess why. (I eventually found out when I was unwrapped later that that was because I was also very well-wrapped with rope, also from top to bottom, but the plastic completely covered the rope windings so I couldn’t see that.) Many silver straps of metallic tape offset the dark plastic that I saw in the mirror. It was strange to see myself that way. I’ve been bound up with food wrap and placed in spandex and rubber body bags before, but the silver tape made the bondage particularly inescapable and restrictive, and I liked that. I must admit that I really liked the tight embrace of the ropes, plastic wrap, and tape. Being totally helpless has always made me sexually excited, and since I hadn’t really come completely down from the cloud he put me on before, I started to quiver inside again. Besides, the tightness of all that material made me look pretty damn good. It showed off all my curves as well as that expensive corset does that you bought me for my birthday a couple of months ago. No, cancel that. It made me look even better because the plastic even made my legs look great.

I tried to get his attention by calling out to him, but nothing came out. Actually, that isn’t completely true; I made a sort of squeaky noise. My initial reaction was that there was still something wrong with my voice, but then as my thoughts were clearing up a little bit, it finally occurred to me that my jaw positively ached. I was gagged. Well, being gagged was never enough to silence me, so I tried again and shrieked a rather loud, “Nnngh!” Rather meaningless, of course, but he looked up.

When that luscious American hunk finally saw that I was awake, he promptly walked over to me and wrapped some plastic wrap around my head, too, but the layers weren’t so thick that I couldn’t see through it. I started to panic again because I couldn’t breathe, but he remedied that quickly by poking holes for my nose with a pocketknife. Heck, he did it all so fast that I didn’t even have time to be scared that he was going to use the knife to cut me or kill me. Lambert picked up his camera again, smiled at me, and started taking more pictures. I was glad that my eyes were partially covered with plastic because those big flash units popped again and again and again. I tried to struggle in my bondage, but it was pretty much a useless effort. The stuff was far too tight for me to do much more than wiggle a finger or toe. After he paused to remove the memory chip from the camera and replace it with another one, he resumed taking shots, but from a whole bunch of different angles. Most of them were close-ups: some of my face, some of my boobs, and lots of my pussy, although I wasn’t sure that you could see much through all that dark plastic!

He rolled me over and took lots more pictures. Again, my only indicator was that I could see the flash units flaring up like the sun. The big American then lifted me so my legs were on the bed and my shoulders were on the floor. The wrapping was all so taut that I didn’t even bend; I was a human board! It was very uncomfortable! More photographs. Fortunately, that position didn’t last long.

Well, maybe it wasn’t so fortunate, now that I think about it. After only a few minutes I found myself face down on the floor. What he did next was to fold my legs up, squashing my calves against my thighs; and that was really painful because of the stiffness of the rope, plastic wrap, and metallic tape. To keep them folded up, he wrapped more tape around them. Lots of tape! Then he rolled me over and lifted me into a kneeling position. Subsequently he pushed my chest down against my legs, or I should say he tried to push my chest down against my thighs. But even after sitting on my back, which really, really hurt, he just couldn’t get my chest all the way down.

He cursed a whole lot then, and sliced the tape on my legs, which popped open like a pair of metal springs! I was really surprised when he continued removing the plastic wrap, too, up to my waist. (That’s when I first saw the coils of rope that had been hidden beneath all that plastic in the mirror.) I’ll bet it took him five minutes to undo the cinches and unwind all of that rope!

I saw in the mirror that he didn’t remove all of the rope from my lower torso, only the coils that were wrapped around my hips. There was still a very nasty looking set of ropes that extended down from my waist right down through my crotch. Although I couldn’t see it, I knew that at least some of that rope went right between my pussy lips. It was pulled really tight, too, and it hurt! But with all of that other stuff gone, he apparently decided that he could get the pussy ropes a wee bit tighter. As the cord sliced through my cunt, I thought that he was going to cut me in two! I had this momentary mental flash of the scene in that old James Bond movie, “Goldfinger,” where they had a laser beam set up to bifurcate dear Mr. Bond, starting with his family jewels. Shit, that rope hurt when he cinched it; I realized that I had never truly felt pain until that moment. It was a thousand times worse than when I delivered my baby ten years ago, even though that pain was psychologically compounded by the fact that Megan was stillborn. It was staggeringly awful, and I truly hoped that he was killing me just so it would all come to an end! After he was satisfied that they were tight enough, he pulled apart the innermost ropes to expose my lips and clit. Shit, no wonder it hurt so bad. My clit was trapped in a rope vice! Even with my eyes partially covered I could tell that the poor thing was as purple as the pepper in last night’s Kung pao shrimp!

When he stepped back away from me for a moment, I immediately spread my legs open to get some relief. I was just stretching them, you understand, but it pissed him off. “Did I give you permission to spread your legs like some cheap whore,” he crabbed angrily at me. He slapped both of my thighs, which stung a lot, even though they were still a bit numb from being immobilized for so long. “Perhaps you need some more attention,” he said sarcastically

When I saw his devilish smile, I thought, Oh crap! I’m in deep shit! That’s when he got really inspired. He rewrapped each leg again, but separately, and without the rope. Then he helped me up into a sitting position, twisted my right leg up and hooked it behind my neck. After taping it down to my shoulder, he did the same thing with my left leg.

You know that I really like bondage, Asahi, but this was unbelievable! I think that I would have snapped if I hadn’t had so many years of training as a gymnast. Instead, I was in the most vulnerable position I’ve ever been in my life! And even though I might be flexible enough to bend into that kind of position, I always take some time to stretch out my muscles and do warm-ups first. Without those warm-ups, that kind of twisting is exquisitely agonizing. My legs spasmed and pulsed in pain, but they were truly stuck. I wanted to pass out again to escape that intense ache, but I wasn’t that lucky!

If you are wondering if he took advantage of my incredibly open and vulnerable position, the answer is “YES!” But it still wasn’t the way that I expected. He started by rubbing my boobs through all those layers of plastic and whatever. I remember thinking, Oh God, that feels nice. Please press harder on them. I purred my approval to let him know that I liked it. It worked because he did rub harder. He tried to squeeze them, but with all that stuff covering them, it just wasn’t possible for him to get any kind of a grip on them, so he just kept rubbing. I squealed in delight when he found my left nipple. My eyes were closed, but I’ll bet he smiled. I know that my lips curled up around that fat ball in my mouth, but he probably didn’t notice that.

I groaned in frustration then, because he instantly stopped massaging that one, and concentrated exclusively on the right boob. I really wanted him to bring back that tingle that I got when he rubbed on my nip, so I actually got mad at him for stopping and sorta yelped at him, “NGGG! It didn’t occur to me that he was simply searching for my other love button. Being in a bad frame of mind, I was actually even more sexually shocked when he rang my other chime, you know, when he found my other nipple. I let out a muzzled shriek when he hit the bull’s-eye. Oh shit, YES! I screamed to myself. And then he attacked both of them together. I learned that being isolated from all other sensations makes it so much more concentrated; I knew that I had died and gone to heaven! And as before, he just kept it up. I creamed on the carpet over and over again. My body shook, but with all of the bondage, it was so much more intense because it was really all internal. I was seeing flashes of light again, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t from his camera flash units that time.

Just when I thought that I couldn’t take any more, he started to stroke my clit again. As wet as it was, his fingers just glided back and forth over my engorged, sweet fuck bud. It felt fantastic, but my clit really ached, too. I already knew that it was swollen up like a big hot pepper, but the indescribable agony that exploded through my clit at the same time that tidal waves of pleasure were washing through me was completely unexpected. The mixture of pain and pleasure was inconceivable and unlike anything that I had ever endured. I was back in heaven, but I was also in hell! The way that the taut cords pinched my clit set it afire, but it also made it soooo much more sensitive than normal (and it is normally quite sensitive)! But I sorta stopped thinking at that point as I was overwhelmed by another few waves of astonishingly intense pleasure. At that point, I pretty much lost contact with reality ‘cause the explosions were pretty much continuous.

I think that I passed out for a while again. No, I know that I did ‘cause when I finally came down from my high, I was lying on my side in the box again, still trussed up the same way although I did feel a bit fuller down below. Being in the box, I couldn’t see much, but the flashes were going off again. And this time it really was the camera lights. I guess he was taking some more pix of me for his scrapbook. Anyway, I recall thinking, Well, I guess this is it. The weirdo has already bundled me up in the box again to be sent back to Aman, Inc., and he didn’t even fuck me once. Just got off on tying me up and watching me cum, but I’m not gonna regret a second of it ‘cause he was better than any lover I ever had! That was really exasperating to me because as I continued to come down from that highest high, I realized that every single muscle in my body was still ablaze. I felt better than I ever had before, but I hurt so much worse, too.

I ached everywhere! The thought of being shipped back to you while in such pain made me even more aware of fire raging throughout my body. I cringed as I considered that it was my own idea that I always return to you from these “excursions” packaged in the delivery box. I’ll admit that it is kind of an ego thing to know that it makes me look a little bit stronger than your other girls, but this time I had really done it to myself! It would be my own damn fault that I would have to endure this astonishingly awkward, agonizing position for two hours in the back of the truck. The thought of being knocked around on some of those rocky roads made me cry in frustration and stupidity. But I was wrong; once again I had made an incorrect assumption regarding my master. He was not yet finished with me.

A few minutes after the flashes stopped, he lifted me outa the box like I was a piece of paper. You know I’m your heaviest girl at 57 kilos, and I’m not afraid to admit that either as I’m also your tallest by 30 centimeters, but he picked me up as easily as if I were one of your most petite empresses.

Seconds later I was on the bed again, which was a whole lot more comfortable than the floor, especially since I was still wrapped up tighter than a mummy with my legs over my head! Then he peeled back the wrap over my pussy like he was peeling a banana or some other piece of fruit. (He must have covered it up when I was unconscious.) And he kissed me down there!

My pussy has been kissed many times, but the only thing that I could feel at that particular moment were his lips and tongue swirling around on my love lips. And they were SOOOOOOOO good! His hands wandered up to my boobs again and promptly found their targets: my swollen, captive milk duds. (Oh shit! I think that I just creamed myself again from remembering how it felt! That fuckin’ American is a damn wizard! He’s smiling at me right now because he heard what I said about cumming; he is standing only a couple of feet away from me preparing me for my voyage to who-knows-where while I’m telling you all this.) I was flying again in no time, and once again I had no desire ever to come down. I was headed for another intense explosion, but he was controlling the pace. He knew when I was getting close, and slowed down, both his tongue and fingers. I guess that he could sense my tension building, and it was positively wicked.

He was deliberately teasing me, preventing me from reaching that pleasure zone again. Even his bites of my clit, despite the pain, were driving me higher and higher. It was truly maddening! I wanted so much to cum again, to reach nirvana once more, but I just couldn’t. And to make my situation even more exasperating, he finally let me know what gave me the full feeling down in my cunt: a very powerful vibrator, which he turned on for only a few seconds. The agony of my frustration made me even more aware of all the other agony in my body: from being confined and bound for so long, from being twisted up like a pretzel, from being deprived of basic senses like sight, sound and speech. My body throbbed everywhere, which just made my pussy throb that much more! My stretched jaw ached, my tits ached, my nipples ached, my clit ached, and of course, my arms and legs ached. Muscles that I never, ever thought about all ached! But at the same time, the tension that was growing between my legs was like the increasing pressure beneath a volcanic caldera just before it erupts. And there wasn’t a fucking thing that I could do about it! After giving me so much pure bliss, and bringing me to peaks that I had never reached before, depriving me of all of that while teasing me ever upwards on a slow spiral was sheer torture for me. And the bastard damn well knew it!

Just when I thought that I was about to go crazy from his devilishly sweet, loving caresses, kisses, and bites, he did the worst thing imaginable. “Well, darling, it’s time for my dinner, so I have to go for a little bit,” he informed me as he suddenly pushed himself back from my tender love lips. It was like I had just been shot with a nail gun; I was as taut as an over-stressed violin string! Then he got up off the bed; I could tell because the bed suddenly shifted. Because of my bondage I couldn’t even turn my head to see what was going on in the room, so I just lay there, more frustrated than I’ve ever been in my life. Finally, he lightly stroked the side of my head with his hand, and briefly did the same to my swollen right nipple that was so hungry for more attention; I almost came on the spot, but unfortunately, I didn’t.

“I don’t want you to forget about me, sweetheart, so I’ll just let you enjoy that nice, big dildo stuck up in your twat,” he told me. The electro-mechanical pulsations that suddenly attacked the inside of my vagina were staggering in intensity, and quickly brought me back up to my unbearable plateau. But the nasty prick wasn’t about to let me get off that way, and promptly cranked the thing down to a low, maddening tickle. “That should keep you warm while I’m gone,” he taunted. Then he flicked my clit hard with his finger! Shit, that hurt! As he turned off the room lights, he added, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours or so, and then we can resume our lovely games.”

I can’t begin to describe the horror of that wait. I couldn’t move at all. Because of the inflexible strictures, I was unable to do anything. The vibrator kept me warm where it mattered, but not warm enough. I had never felt so strong or so desperate a desire to climax, but even clamping the buzzing phallus with my cunt muscles didn’t accomplish anything except make me more frustrated. My muscles were stressed to the max. A tiny spasm was magnified a thousand fold. A serious muscle tremor became an earthquake! And all of the energy stayed inside me. I couldn’t shake off any of the tension. The all-encasing plastic wrap held it all within me. To call that unendurable period mind-numbing would be an understatement. And that damn vibrator kept me on the edge, totally aware of every fiber of my being. To be kept that way for two or three hours, whatever it was, was an awful, cruel, unbearable, delicious, wonderful experience.

You can’t survive that sort of devilish stimulation without being changed. I admit that I have been altered; I’ve been twisted. I’m scared that I’ll never be able to enjoy normal sex again. I’ll forever crave the compression of my body and unyielding fetters on my limbs. Can your other clients give me that pleasure? I doubt it. But does it really matter?

I’ve been given this opportunity to tell you about my frightening, and yet dreadfully bewitching, experience while I’m being prepped for my final trip to my unknown destination. I fear that it is going to be a long journey because of the way that I am being prepared. He gave me a couple of enemas to clean me out before corking me with a huge butt plug. It didn’t go in easily, but then I’ve not used that hole for much other than taking a crap. I’ve been fucked a few times back there, but none of those guys had a cock even half as large as the monstrous thing that Lambert forced into that hole. I cried for fifteen minutes, and the pain is still there; it isn’t quite as awful, but it’s unrelenting. I feel as though I need to take a shit and my ass muscles keep contracting, clenching down on that awful plug, but I can’t push the damn thing out. It’s the ultimate form of constipation!

After the enema, he inserted a balloon catheter into my pee hole. I feel sorry for people who have to wear those things for truly prolonged periods because it really hurt. NOTHING is supposed to go in that teeny hole, but Lambert mercilessly stuck a large diameter tube into my little hole. There is nothing erotic or sensual about it.

My arms are bound behind my back, pulled painfully back in the most strenuous hogtie I’ve ever suffered. My forearms are taped against each other with my hands totally encased in a ball of silver tape. I can’t even twitch a finger! Taped directly to the outside of my forearms are my calves. It took the bastard a long time to bend me that much, but my gymnastics training has come back to haunt me one more time. I’m just too flexible!

My waist is encased in a rubber corset that makes my own satin corset seem like a comfortable, everyday garment. I saw myself in the mirror before he put me into this box, and it really gives me an amazing shape. The wasp waist that so many cartoon women have is now mine. It even pushes my boobs up and makes them bigger. Of course the rubber straps that he tightly wound around the base of each boob help to make them stick out more, too, but even without the straps, the corset really enhances my figure in ways that I never even dreamt about. Even my nipples stick out farther, which makes them look a bit more delectable, but the bastard clipped clamps to both of them. That was awesomely painful at first, but it’s not quite so bad now. It scares me that I am going to have to live with them on my buds for a long time. It’s a little bit better now, but I’m pretty sure it will get nasty again.

It’s just too many agonies to endure for my trip. As I already said, I’m afraid that he has done all these extreme things to immobilize me because my trip is going to be long. Even if it isn’t, all of this will be difficult to bear.

You are probably wondering what else he could possibly do to make me miserable. There can’t be much, can there? Well, your guess would be wrong. I am actually perched like bird on a T-shaped dildo that is rigidly mounted to the base of the container in which he is going to ship me. The plug totally fills me up, stretching my vagina, but the T bar prevents it from going any deeper and ripping me open. As odd as it might sound, that’s actually a good thing because my bent knees are being pulled down by heavy ropes to a pair of steel rings on the floor of my box.

As awkward as my position might sound, I am not going to fall over during my trip to wherever. Why? Because he is slowly filling my box with a liquid that turns into a rigid, expanding foam. It’s the reason that I’ve had time for this explanation. It’s already up to my waist; my forearms, my legs and hips are completely locked into place, in a block of foam as stiff as the Emperor’s palace. But he said that it will keep me warm, and I’ll need that where I’m going. That isn’t a good prospect; I really enjoy warm weather, and want to stay in a warm climate. Hell, I’m already hot. The stuff becomes a furnace as it hardens. Probably because of the chemical reaction when the two liquids mix together.

Anyway, I know that he’ll never admit that I’m right, but I’m pretty sure that he is going to send me to some place rather cold in the Pacific Northwest. When he showed me the pictures that he took of me, I saw a lot of thumbnail pictures of places covered with snow in the background; they looked like glaciers. Hmm, he’s scowling at me. I think that I’ve made him mad. OWWW! I didn’t expect that! He just connected my nipple clamps to rings on the wall of my box, pulling them sideways and out. Shit, that hurts! Ow! He just poured in another large bucket of liquid that’s just below my tits. Oh crap! The foam is going to lock them in place, all stretched out!

Hmm, he just signaled to me that it is time to stop. Oh shit! And double shit! He just showed me a rubber mask that he’s going to put over my head. I thought that he was going to stop at my neck, but I see that I’m wrong. Oh god, Asahi, in a few minutes, I will be completely encased in a block of packing foam! And now that I’m at that point, I must tell you that I have never been more scared in my life. I don’t know what is going to happen to me; PLEASE help m… - click –


Hah! Hah! Hah! That was the sound of the final nail you just heard, Asahi. Your lovely Brenda is gone for good. Well, at least as far as you are concerned. What was yours is now mine. This recording from her will be the last record of her existence; I hope that you enjoy it. As for Brenda, I really think that she liked the way that she was treated. You should have seen the smile on her lovely red lips as I filled them with the big, hollow ball gag. She is quite happy about all of this. I have shown her a world of pleasure beyond anything she’s ever imagined. Sadly, she’ll never experience that world again. That agonizing teasing she told you I administered at the end is all she’ll ever know. But she doesn’t know that, does she? Will it drive her mad with desire? Probably. The last girl I tormented that way actually lasted half a year.

Brenda seems a bit better built, more resilient. She certainly is more curvaceous and voluptuous than the other girls I’ve used to amuse myself, and I will definitely take advantage of her exquisite boobs. They are so wonderfully sensitive. And her clit was so delightfully receptive to stimulation: both pain and pleasure. I’m afraid that she’ll mostly have pain, though; but there will be enough sweet pleasure to totally confuse her mind. I’ll drive her up to higher and higher plateaus, but she will just never get to enjoy another climax. She will be so close that she can smell it. However, she’ll never get to enjoy another explosion, unless it is brought on by an intense memory as she claimed while making this recording for you. It really is amazing how high you can propel someone with properly allocated doses of lustful stimulation. Testing Brenda will be a delight for me; she is extremely passionate, and I’m certain that I will love every minute of it.

Well, I’ve said enough. Her torment starts right now, Asahi. That dildo that she mentioned that she is perching on is actually an expanding vibrator. The vibrator will stimulate her in very enjoyable ways, but I’m afraid that she was right about being completely filled by the dildo. When it expands, she will hurt from the inside out. But as shocking as that might be, it will be nothing compared to the real shock she gets when I send some electric current flowing into her nipples and pussy, and when I am particularly nasty, even into her asshole. Won’t she just love all of that? Well, that is just something for you to think about because I know that you were particularly fond of this beautiful creature.

Oh, yes, it is a pity that she doesn’t like the cold because she won’t be wearing clothes very often. Well, I suppose that she will be totally encased in plastic, rubber or leather most of the time, so that might not be too much of a problem for her, but I’ve heard that it can get a bit chilly inside an igloo, even under the best of conditions. Ha-ha-ha!

So, Asahi, this is sayonara. I enjoyed doing business with you. Have a nice life. – click –


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