Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

Subterranean Sally

by Wingco

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© Copyright 2015 - Wingco - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; M/f; coffin; steel; cuffs; collar; dress; heels; gag; bfold; mask; bond; encase; enclosed; intubate; buried; concrete; sealed; video; tease; cons; X

Part One

I knew my father kept an old coffin at his house having used it regularly for a Halloween stunt when I was a teenager. Myself in a frock and shut inside the old thing as he and some mates wheeled it around the streets. ‘Rising from the dead’ and scaring the crap out of people, all in the name of charity mind and as a family we’d raised a fortune over the years.

Now with my mother gone and me having moved home to look after him it had become a chance to play a bit more. Bob didn’t mind and occasionally he took part. One memorable day he allowed me to wear one of mum’s dresses then locked me inside! I can safely say my heart was pounding!

So when I read a series of stories on Gromet about girls who liked dressing up and being shut in coffins I decided I wanted to do it again. Showing the site to dad…only to find he’d known about it for years! And Mum too…was a serious addict and so he told me a lot of what they’d done. “We played a lot more than I care to admit, but nice to see you’re not too sweet and innocent to understand!”

Talking to Bob one day over breakfast about this he grinned and said he’d made a few adjustments to it recently but would not elaborate, even when I nudged him. “You’ll find out soon enough young lady,” he said. I smiled inside but made sure he couldn’t read my thoughts. With today being my day off…it was gonna be playtime…

Once he’d gone to work I did all the housework and washing which took all morning, prepared the slow-cooker for our dinner tonight and so on. But after my lunch I realised that I couldn’t put it off…I HAD to see what those adjustments were. Hurrying into the basement I locked the door before approaching the coffin. Flipping the lid up I stared…and was amazed.

He’d certainly worked hard as I looked down, seeing the metalwork now installed at three places inside. One set of loops was for the ankles; the second would be for the waist with small wrist loops each side, while the last was obviously a collar to go round my neck. I was impressed, seeing they were padded, the same colour as the satin lining…and I wanted to try them out. A tug proved the loops were all locked and I groaned, as he must have known I’d come down so secured everything to stop me trying.

Turning away I was amazed…and delighted to see a bunch of keys hanging nearby from a hook! Surely these were not for…but a close examination proved that they were! Nervously I placed one in the collar and twisted…


A real solid sound and I shuddered as the collar lifted up, it was 3cm steel and gleamed almost like my eyes were probably doing. Pushing it down then turning that key hearing the clunk again. Soon the others were unlocked and to test myself a bit I leaned in and placed a wrist into the loop by the belt. Flipping the top across it gripped firmly, the leather padding cool but tight on my skin. Another clunk as I locked it and by now my breathing was shallowing!

I couldn’t wait and hurried upstairs to use the loo then get changed into something better than shorts and T-shirt. My wardrobe isn’t that ‘girlie’ as I work in an office where staid trouser-suits are the norm. It stops the truck drivers ogling my legs too, something I’ve hated forever and a day. But today was a ‘me’ day so dress it was, my favourite off-white number, calf length and lovely in silk, capped sleeves and everything. Cost me £200, and I have three of them, one is black but worth every cent, the 3-inch heels that go with them are nice if not comfortable for that long. Quickly I got dressed, being this naughty I was soon wearing stockings too. A slip inside then I zipped myself into the frock. Strapping the shoes on I was soon strutting downstairs and back to the basement.

The door was locked again, keys tossed onto the bench and I headed for the coffin. Carrying my penis gag and a blindfold too to heighten my bondage experience. While Bob of course knew of my bondage fetish I naturally had never let him tie me up, the coffin yes but no more. Donna however had loved it and my parents spent many an hour down here, so now I guess daughters inherit all good traits from their mothers!

Firstly I eased myself into the coffin, making sure the lid was folded right back onto the floor, settling my ass just below the belt and easing both ankles into their loops but not yet locking them as I tidied the folds of my dress. I could already feel wetness amidships and was glad I’d donned a second set of panties. 

Then I lay back and rested my head onto the satin cushion, seeing the thick steel loop sticking up to my right with the belt one visible as well because it’s longer. He’d measured this perfectly as my neck rested in the base of the collar. Slowly I reached down and lowered the belt, having to suck in a bit, as it wouldn’t quite meet the base. So to make sure I got the effect…I needed to lock it!

Getting out for a moment I pondered, whether to finally ask Bob to do it tonight or just have a self-bondage session now…and I could not stand the thought of having to wait another 3 hours for him to return!

Soon I was back inside and this time I locked my ankles into the loops. Sure that they felt tighter once I heard the clicks, guess my overwrought imagination… once I’d tidied my dress I lay back again, then realised the gag and blindfold were outside. Grumbling I reached over the edge and retrieved both, applying the gag and doing my hair once lying flat again. Now was a big moment as I eased the belt shut and locked it. The band was firmly pressing into me and I shuddered then reached for the collar. That too was secured and I was happy, then tried to lock my left wrist into the cuff, but couldn’t reach or see what I was doing. So I undid the loop around my neck and sat up.

Now I wanted to lock everything but of course would not be able to do both wrists…or could I? Spending a few moments blundering about and I sighed. So freed myself and went for another bathroom visit and drink while thinking about what lay beneath my feet.

But I just couldn’t stop and an hour late I was once more settling into the coffin and running through a checklist. 

Ankles locked.
Left wrist locked.
Belt locked.
Gag on.
Blindfold on.

So I reached up and secured the collar then removed the keys and having found the right tape marked one placed it into the lock above where my other wrist would go. Then I shuddered and laid my arm into the loop and by twisting my fingers was able to snap the metal over the top. It rested fine and I imagined the key turning…ohh lovely and I grinned behind the gag as my middle digit felt the edge over to…and TOUCHED the barrel of the key!

I’d forgotten where the key was in relation to the wristcuffs then remembered it was over to the side because the lock fed into the loop. So could it mean? And I paused…then did it. Rubbing my finger along it, pressing as hard as I could, feeling resistance…then it moved…


I was LOCKED INTO MY COFFIN! And a gagged squeal of joy broke out as I relaxed. Happy now and I ran through it all. Ankles, belt, wrists and collar all surrounded with steel and I was pleased, if only I’d remembered to shut the lid first! It reminded me of the girl in her cage who got stuck. I tried and succeeded in unlocking myself so I’m one up on her!

Laying there content I must have dozed off because soon I awoke to the sound of footsteps coming downstairs. My fingers flew to the barrel and tried to twist the key back like before. But I was now sweaty and they kept slipping. My heart pounded as the door handle was tried… “Sally, you in here love…?” I heard Bob say, then a pause and rattle of keys, me thanking providence that I’d removed mine from the doorlock. It squeaked open and his paces came closer.

“You really couldn’t wait could you? Naughty girl,” he murmured and I flushed a bit as he reached in and patted my hand. Seeing my fingers trying to turn the key. “Wait honey, I’ll do it…if you want me to?” Bob said and I paused then nodded and then waited for the clunk.

To my surprise I heard a rattle instead as he TOOK THEM OUT!

“That’s better isn’t it Sally. Nice and safe in your coffin as you obviously want to be. Just like the girl in the story,” he said and my heart naturally froze. A hand came back over and I was amazed as it caressed my flushing cheeks then reached round to tighten the gag! There was no point in struggling of course and I lay helpless as his fingers slid down onto my body. One rubbing a nipple and I squirmed as it went hard as he worked on. “Well, dinner will be ready in about an hour if you’ve done it, want me to…?” he paused, no doubt reading my mind.

I nodded anyway and got another stroke of cheek as he apologised for touching me like that. I accepted, well no choice really but my heart was trembling as the lid squeaked, then a rush of air and a glorious wooden smell as he closed me up. Moments later I heard an electric driver starting work on the brass restraining screws and I realised he really was fastening my coffin lid down!  
This was amazing as I counted from one to eight. Once the last was done he rapped a knuckle on the side then nowt and I assumed he’d gone away. Lying there content, faint smell of my scent mixing with leather and possibly some lock oil as well. Shame it cannot be bottled for bondage addicts, I’d make a fortune!

It only seemed like seconds later when there was a faint tapping on the side and Bob started work again. Soon the lid was opened and I heard his voice asking if I wanted freedom? Well I needed the loo…fast so nodded and minutes later I was being assisted out. Once steady on my heels I carefully removed the blindfold and squinted, seeing Bob stood there with screwdriver in hand. We had a hug then he relocked the restraints and pocketed the keys! Damn, I’d hoped he’d put them back… “Not a chance Sally dear. You almost got stuck then didn’t you?” and I nodded sagely. I’d probably have got free eventually by myself but this was a salutary lesson on bondage safety so I accepted the delivered admonishment while we ate dinner.

Two years later.

I was devastated when Kenny broke off our engagement as after a couple of false starts I’d really thought he was ‘the one’. Only days later however I discovered he’d been seeing someone else at the same time and so I vanished from the social scene to ‘grieve’ alone. Bob took the brunt of my bad moods bless him and did his best to ignore me when I needed to have a scream at something or someone. Then one day he said it… “I ought to lock you up in the coffin where you won’t be heard!” he’d joked after another ‘no reason’ teary session. That broke through me and I paused for a moment. We hadn’t played with it for at least two months now, so maybe I needed a proper distraction.

He stared, seeing my face brighten a little and said “Gotcha missy. If you want to of course?” 

So after dinner he escorted me downstairs and we examined and re-oiled all the locks and dusted it off. “Looks OK,” I muttered and he agreed as the screwdriver was unpacked. “How long do you want Sally?” he asked and I thought about it for a while. 

“Maybe an hour or two as usual…mind you had you asked this morning I might have said a couple of days instead. Shame we cannot work out a way of wiring it up like the stories, you know, feeding and extracting waste…” I said and I saw him stare at me and he was probably concerned now. I rushed over and broke down, apologising for being like this, it was silly and I really should try and get a grip, especially after what we’d been through years before.

“I know you don’t mean it love and maybe you should, least when we lost Donna it was proper, not like we’re gonna bump into her again, well not in this life anyway, but I do understand OK?” he said and I gripped harder. Knowing he was still mourning his wife, me my mother but was ‘stiff upper lipping’ it as usual with jokes to keep me calm. He didn’t know I’d regularly heard him crying during the night in the months after her death. 

Looking down at the coffin I saw him pacing around it, grabbing a ruler and measuring one end. “You’re not seriously…?” I said and he nodded. “I reckon it could be done Sally, you’re not that tall even in those daft shoes.” I bridled at that, he always took the piss out of me when I wore stillies in the house but let him continue, “These cuffs and the belt could be moved six inches closer to the top. A new wall at the bottom for waste pipes and air inlet to go behind, so I wonder… Sal, if I could…would you?” he asked and this time I paused, for once unsure. But it was a chance I never thought possible. “Well, it’ll require all your engineering ingenuity dad, but…yeah why not…”

“…If it really did work you could even bury me somewhere for a long weekend!”

He chuckled at that, saying how could he feed himself and would I trust him not to starve or leave the place tidy! “Er…no maybe not,” I giggled and that got us another hug and we began planning.

A month later I knew we were going to succeed. ‘Clever Bob’ was the standard joke as he demonstrated the air system that fed into the base. The hose that led from the catheters I didn’t want to think about, but he created the whole lot and I began to try it. At first I just lay on the floor next to the coffin and having slurped a few drinks during breakfast I was busting…but fitted the damn thing myself. He was too squeamish to watch… ‘Wuss’ stood outside until I said ‘done’ and sat down on the bench next to the coffin. Slightly disconcerting on entering to see his daughter with four-foot plastic tubes resting between her feet and knowing what the other ends are attached to! 

He connected the loose end to the base joint then went to the wall and a laptop that was in the cupboard. A couple of keys were pressed then he looked at me, his eyes trying not to watch. I grinned and said ‘I’d wait till he left again’ No surprise Bob departed the room with alacrity and I could let rip…by goodness that was better and I watched as the tube briefly went yellow then the flow stopped. ‘No wonder he didn’t want to view that!’ I thought. As the foodstuff was all going to be protein drinks for the days planned we were not too bothered about my back end but the tube was tested…yuk. But I needed to diet anyway as ‘comfort food’ after the break-up had seen my damn waistline…

I then slept one night in the unlocked coffin with everything attached; not locked mind and he’d removed the metal bits so I could be ‘comfortable’. It was a good kip and my happy grin in the morning was most welcome. I was getting used to the food now and I’d already lost a pound…result. “Hell of a way to diet!” I quipped and we both roared with laughter and had another hug. “That’s better Sally, its good to see that smile.” he said and I nodded and apologised again for being a cow.

We read all the tales again and managed to make a mask that we could mount into the top of the coffin, the bottom bit could be secured onto the new collar Bob had made. Padded like the other but a little tighter as I asked it to be. The belt and the other cuffs had been remodelled and could now ‘click’ to various settings. Shame he couldn’t make them remote controlled but I didn’t want to push my luck. 

This was the only thing I changed from the stories, as I didn’t fancy a tube into my nose, so we worked out a way to fit the thing through a hollow gag instead. It’d restrict me talking but I had no intention anyway for that, besides there was no microphone, camera or TV screen…oh come on we’re not THAT good!

So the next evening I dressed as normal for a session and fitted ‘my bits’ then called him in. It didn’t take long to settle down amongst the restraints. Well used to them I slipped the points of my heels into slots on the base, making sure I didn’t knock the hoses that were soon connected. He gently eased me back onto the pillow and I relaxed for a moment then placed my wrists into the open cuffs. Bob closed the ankle ones then did the belt…but didn’t lock it which surprised me as it stuck up an inch. “Go on,” I insisted and he relented and I shuddered as he grabbed the keys and swiftly did the six turns that would hold me safe. “Mask?” and I nodded; this was the one thing I hadn’t yet worn with everything else locked, once with the collar to check it fitted but not all bits together.

Bob reached up and arranged my hair then slotted it into the top then lowered it over my face, easing the gag into my throat then started pushing the base into the collar. “Ughhh…” I grunted, forgetting how tight this ensemble was with the pillow and he was concerned enough to ask if I wanted to stop. “Nghh…slooooer…” I spluttered and got an apology. This time was better and my heart jumped on feeling the thud as he brought the lever round and the job was done.

“Right, food love…” he intoned and I took a breath then a stream of liquid slipped down my throat. Banana today and it went down a treat. I was almost sorry when it stopped. I reassured him with a thumbs-up that my breathing was fine and got a pat on the hand. So that was fine and he flipped the lid over then left me for the night.

It felt amazing as I flexed in my bonds, knowing only Bob could free me. Still a bit nervy mind when I needed a wee but that part worked fine and I got used to the food. I was a little dismayed when he came in at six am next morning to free me. We had a hug once I could stand and I was quietly smiling as I looked down, wondering just how far I could push Bob with this…maybe even…hmmm.

So for a couple of months I spent the odd night in here. Once he forgot I was ‘home’ and left me till the afternoon but I couldn’t complain about it. Was hard enough trying not to tell people at work what I’d done over the weekend anyway. Plus I needed to be a bit more computer savvy or at least not read story sites on the company mainframe! 

Though a week later I no longer cared as our office staffers were all made redundant, no warning or anything. I got the call while driving in one Monday that the door locks had been changed and the administrators were not letting people on site. Things got a bit heated and the police were called to restore order. We got our personal belongings back but nowt else. Bob offered me a job at his place; one of his staffers was retiring in six months so I could get training from her before she departed.

With me being free from work and with some savings I wasn’t too worried about getting through until I could start with Bob. That left plenty of…playtime I’d hoped but dad, like they all do knew better. Making me redecorate the living room, a spare bedroom and the bathroom instead of getting someone in but I made a good job of it and that did wonders for my self-esteem. I was allowed the odd overnight in the coffin but no more. However I was very impressed when Bob said he’d converted an old sat-nav unit into a monitor, so I could now ‘see’ the view from mum’s old video camera but there was no sound. More and more stories were read and discussed, I reckon we could quote lines to each other on some of them!

Though we did give the plumber a fright when he went into the wrong basement room and saw the coffin there. Fortunately it was partly covered by a sheet. He came out pale faced and Bob joked that ‘any whiter than that and a Doc might certify you to be needing it.” An extra strong coffee soothed his nerves and I saw the guy sneaking a peek at my ass! Just as well dad didn’t catch him, he’s getting rather protective of me now. When I’m feeling sad he’s always there with words of encouragement, the odd hug and plenty of jokes, what a star he is. 

He did let me have a fortnight holiday in Spain with some of the guys and gals from my former employers and yes I did pay my own way thank you. Rather enjoyed it but didn’t tell any of them that my highlight was zip-tying myself into an old church confessional box! 

This had come about on our ‘day off from the group’ where we all did our own things. I went into Barcelona and having been here before stayed clear of the tourist spots with the pickpockets and crowds of people selling tat. A mile or so away I found this little church and went in. There wasn’t a soul there and after a poke round and donation to the restoration fund I found the box in a shed outside. Well I am a nosy cow…OK? There had been another newer looking one in the main building complete with cushions so this was obviously surplus to requirements. 

I got in and sat on the dusty wooden bench hardly able to see into the other side because the only window in the shed was half blocked by the solid back of this thing. Pretended to confess to all sorts of bondage misdemeanours and it made me wonder…

Leaving quietly I returned to a nearby boulevard and found the hardware store I’d seen earlier with the wonderfully carved figurines on display. One of which I’d thought about buying for Bob. Now I did and took it inside to pay but also look for my target purchase. Quite what several burly Catalan builders thought about the diminutive brunette in a short maroon dress strolling round their store made me grin when out of view. The place had fallen silent when I’d entered, then a lot of muttering after going to the back. Thankfully I don’t speak the lingo and I’d probably rather not know anyway!

Found a pack of 25 footlong zipties and went to pay, thankfully the guys had gone and only an old chap was behind the counter. He didn’t say much but I guessed he was checking me out! You just know sometimes and the fact his hands were trembling a bit as he gave me my change… It earned him a butt wiggle on my way out!  

Returning I checked the chapel and the general area was still deserted, at 15:00 it’s siesta time and there wasn’t a soul to be see so I sneaked back into the shed and closed the door with a sigh. Unpacking the ties took seconds and I paused, realising I’d have to waste at least one to see how strong they were. The others would surely suffice so I made the first loop and tugged it partway through. What a lovely sound as the tiny plastic cogs rubbed against each other and I was thrilled.  

The box was only about three feet square, the bench takes up half the width of that so there is barely enough room to stand without banging into the door. My handbag was placed out of the way under this and I made sure not to forget it! With ornate carvings on the side panel I was soon able to thread four ties to secure the door and tug them tight. A push and there was no give at all…great. Sitting down so primly I paused, well there were many spares left.

Not wanting to be too obvious with plastic on bare skin I slipped on a thick pair of tights that had been in my bag since Christmas. Though they’d probably go anyway it might lessen the chance of marks on my legs. The dress had sleeves to the wrist so my arms were safe. Soon I had my legs tied together, two for the ankles and another above and below my knees, though these need two each. Not too tight of course but enough that I’d not be able to walk. Now to my arms and I wondered if I should…yeah go on love, you’ve got this far…

Each wrist got two ties looped round the dress cuff but with enough space to slip another one underneath. Naturally I was pleased but there were still spares and I looked at the back of the box. Seeing a gap in the wood that went to a narrow point and I grinned fetching two ties together to make a big loop then jamming one of the ends as far into the hole and wedging it. A good hard tug and it didn’t move, but the loop hanging over the bench would shrink when pulled as I intended it to do. Sitting down on the bench I made a belt for my waist using four then laid the last few behind my ass.

So now it was time and I stood up then placed my arms behind my back, making sure they were both inside the loop then lowered back down, the plastic sliding up until it was about two inches above my elbows. Now some of the spares were fed through the belt and with a lot of shuffling I managed to get them inside the wrist loops too! Now I could start tugging the various ends and over the next few minutes gradually crossbound my hands right up to the small of my back…lovely. 

But there was still one to go and I stood up and smiled, leaning forward and sighing as I heard the little brrrr and the last loop began to tug my elbows together. I’m pretty flexible and before long it was as tight as I wanted just as the end popped out of the wood. Not like those rubber-bodied models who can actually touch theirs but good enough for today and I sat down again…wondering how long I could last before I reached for the…

I froze and gasped…my penknife was in my handbag…that was still UNDER the seat! 

Somehow I managed not to scream at my stupidity. Bob would flay me alive if he could see me and I wouldn’t blame him. Scuffing my feet back and was relieved when one shoe toe end snagged the strap. I kicked forward and it flew out and thudded into the door.

Great, all I’ve gotta do is bend down, pick it up, open the buckle and extract the damn thing while not being able to see what I’m doing! “Stupid cow,” I cursed then began trying…

It took ages and eventually I moved it to the side then turned away and flopped ass first onto it. Then thudded forward onto me knees and tossed it up, taking three attempts before it landed on the bench. Getting off my legs took an effort but eventually my fingers were ferreting though the copious pockets. No wonder guys curse their women at the size of their handbags and mine was no different. But I squealed on finding the bloody thing and managed to open it without pricking myself.

Now the dangerous part and I poked the blade up towards my back, finding a loop and thankfully it didn’t resist too much, within five minutes my wrists could part but it was going to be the elbows that’d be the problem. No way could I reach and I did now cry as it was hurting me. But there was no other choice so I had to try and strain against the loop. Again and again I tugged, starting to sob as the pain increased.

Almost when I was about to give up it suddenly snapped and my arms flew apart and smacked into the walls before I could stop them. “Aggghh…” I groaned as the circulation improved and I realised I was a lucky but incredibly stupid girl for doing this. Quickly I cut through the remainder of my bonds, thankfully the tights did their job and my legs were unmarked.  I undid the door then cleared up the debris, stuffing them into the original packaging then crept sheepishly away. My friends noticed I was a bit quiet that night but I managed to bluff it, saying I’d walked too far in one day.   

Coming home loaded with gifts and duty frees. Bob was delighted I was all right and we went home. Pleased he’d not starved having used those pre-cooked meals I’d left for him. “Plus a couple of chip-shop visits?” I asked and he blushed and nodded. “Good, we’ll hit the gym together then.” 

It took another week before I confessed to my father about nearly getting stuck. He listened and I could tell he was more than a bit worried this time. “Please Sally, if you… look, tell you what. If you really want to do self-bondage without your mates finding out the only safety is gonna be me but only when I’m at home. I don’t mind. Donna was the same and eventually she did get stuck but thankfully once and she learned a tough lesson because she was there for twenty-four hours before I found her. You however young lady are already at two strikes OK? So no more or else, three strikes and you’ll be…well you can guess,” and I accepted the telling off.

He did however startle me by asking if I wanted him to set up the bondage equipment in the basement again having discovered he still possessed it all. “It’s why you were banned from going down in the first place Sally. If you, as a ten-year-old had walked in and had seen your mother spread-eagled on a cross with me vibrating her then…” and I laughed at his expression, seeing him glow with the memories. “So if you want to learn from me I will teach you, but it could mean me touching… close to places that well maybe dads’ shouldn’t and I promise never to hurt or let you get distressed. Think it over Sally but think it over carefully.” I said I would and also promised to leave the casket alone. 

“Yeah, perhaps I ought to lock you in there to keep you safe from yourself…” he sighed and I nodded, getting a hug as he apologised talking about Donna again but I didn’t mind. “But she did enjoy herself…”

A month later and Bob asked me if I wanted a slightly longer go in the coffin, possibly after the next bank holiday weekend. I’d been all right since the ‘chat’ and though the bondage stuff was still hidden on a pallet somewhere in his warehouse I’d said yes. I did want to learn and he’d accepted that. Also saying to a startled lass than he’d taken his turn if mum had wanted to blow off steam. I agreed and got a few meals prepared and stuck them in the freezer.

For this time I really wanted to dress up. My wardrobe only has a couple of formal gowns but I knew there was one of Donna’s that Bob had kept. Saying she’d never worn it and that one-day I could have it. Now, this day I decided was that time so nervously asked him and was delighted when he said YES! There were no shoes or underwear but I had a pair of stillies that almost matched.

The big day dawned after a great weekend with Bob. I worked like a Trojan with housework and stuff to make sure he ‘would survive for a few days’ without me. The place was immaculate and I was pleased. After lunch I went off for a bath and hairwash while Bob said he’d check the coffin systems over and start cleaning it. I agreed and he left me alone. Unlike the story there was no special bodysuit so normal stuff and I grinned and applied the obvious stockings and so on. Striking a pose and having an admiring session in the mirror. 

I’m not that bad really, as most women I suppose a few pounds could come off but I’ve had eating problems before so need to be careful and don’t want to go through that again when I get too thin. But today was a good day for a strut and prance before putting the gown on. With the radio up loud I didn’t hear Bob knocking on the door to see if I was ready!

“Oh heck, sorry love… I’ll come back…” he said in the doorway trying not to stare as I stood there facing him, just clad in finest silk and satin. Now while he’d probably seen Donna like this was one thing but not his girl. I grinned and apologised, catching my bathrobe as he tossed it across. “Actually dad, I need help getting into the gown… it’s a lot heavier than I thought.” I said and he paused. “OK, guess it ain’t the first time I’ve seen you undressed… I was there when you were born!”

That cracked us both up and he took the dress off the wardrobe while I stepped into a full-length slip. He was a little relieved once my midriff and legs were covered, the cleavage however was still there and I knew he was looking. Bob held it up and I wriggled up inside then thrust my arms into the sleeves before dropping the rest around me. A deep breath and I was zipped into it, the tab going into a slot just under my hairline but I was just pleased it fitted.

“You look sensational love,” he said and I blushed scarlet then sat to redo my hair. As there was a mask I didn’t need to worry about any slap, but did put some moisturiser on anyway. “Right, see you in the living room Sal dear, twenty minutes enough?” I nodded then he left and I remembered to fit the hoses too. 

I answered a few texts from friends, mainly replies to my ‘going off message for a while’ this was a cryptic code that I needed to be left alone till I got back in contact. They were used to this as I always did; my former college roommate Petra does the same. In fact I called her to assure the lass that ‘I was still sane’ and we had a giggle and chat before I saw time was nearly up. Then I switched off the phone and packed things away, handbag to wardrobe and took a final look round before brushing my teeth and going downstairs. Donning a pair of elbow length gloves to finish off.
We stood facing each other in the living room and he took some photos of me in mum’s wonderful dress as I posed, Bob was in regulation shorts and T-shirt so didn’t bother about himself.  He moved in afterwards, sliding his hands onto my waist and rubbing my ass then began doing the rest of me! I didn’t care, especially after what had occurred earlier. Too engrossed in the fact I could soon realise my dream of being locked into the coffin while wearing this.

“Now how far do you want to go with this sweetie…” he began, probably knowing that I’d try and say all the way. I began smiling and saw his eyes glint at my reply. “Please take it as far as you want dad, go on…finish the job. Try to bury me or at least do something special, I want to feel safer than I’ve ever been before…” I whispered, hamming it up and for the first time kissed him on the lips and he responded again.

Bob smiled as he stroked my hips then looked serious and said something that made me think. “Right OK Sal honey, I thought you might say something like that so… I’ve prepared… a few things. Did stuff while you were in Spain. But I would like something in return please. Once this is over I don’t want to hear any more tears or tantrums, like yesterday’s little meltdown. You’re twenty-four years old, not a baby, I know life’s been tough for both of us but it will get better. Once you’ve had a couple of days in the basement I hope you’ll appreciate that and a new, ladylike, equally pretty but calmer and happier Sally can become reality.”

This was a reference to a hysterical and somewhat pathetic reaction to my failure to cook Yorkshire puddings for Sunday lunch! The misshapen mess that had emerged from the oven drove me to tears of fury and many curses and swearwords later I’d come close to breaking the dish and throwing the whole meal away. Somehow Bob’s soothing words had calmed me down and I felt such a fool. The stuff was still edible and we’d eaten the lot with no ill effects. “Still alive sweetie,” he’d said later on and by nightfall the drama had passed.

I nodded at that and a smile grew. “Yeah OK, I promise I’ll behave in future. Guess it’s why you keep saying you’re going to lock me up for my own good?” and he grinned. He’d used it at the time when I’d confessed to my Spanish incident and a couple of similar versions since. Quite what he meant I didn’t know, but loving it mind so we kissed and cuddled again then prepared for the slow walk…
“But young lady as the blokes all say to their ‘victims’, once the first goes on… no backing out…” I agreed and said it’d be the last thing I’d want to do as he’d obviously worked so hard for me. “OK, grab those hankies from the table and wad them up please…”

This was to role-play the game a bit so I’d suggested he bind my wrists then add a blindfold. I held the hankies over my eyes and he wrapped a silk scarf over the top and tied them off. The effect was staggering and I wobbled a bit until he steadied me. “Easy Sally, this is only the start of your new life… both wrists behind your back please.”

How many daughters let their father tie them up I wondered? Trembling as he placed one arm across the other into a x-shape. Soon he was wrapping cord round and round, over and under till I heard him say it was done. Reading about it is one thing but to experience it…wow. He knew his knots as I tried to twist my arms proved to me he was well used to doing this and wasn’t out of practice. Guess it was my way of checking him out for the forthcoming ‘alternative’ training rather than learning to do Bob’s office work. 

Showing how relaxed I was now I asked him to take some photos of my bonds and he did so, saying there was an album of my mum hidden in the safe. “What tied like this?” I spluttered and heard him chuckle. “Yeah, when you’re freed from the coffin I’ll show you some of the less explicit ones where she’s dressed in outerwear. There is even one of me in the stocks somewhere.”

I grinned at that hearing him put the camera away then he came round the front and slid both hands onto my hips. “You really want to go through with this Sally?” he asked again and once I agreed we had another smooch. I know we probably shouldn’t but who cared. Bob took my arm and led me to the basement staircase, verbally guiding me. His hands clamped on my waist as he helped his daughter to her… burial casket? 

After entering the room and being released I saw the coffin, and bizarrely what appeared to be a hoist on a frame nearby. “Well it’s so I can move you round, make you pretend you’re about to go…” he said seeing my quizzical expression. I came up close and bent down, stroking the satin pillow, opening the restraints… slowly mind as my brain began trying to put it off! 

I held his hands as I stepped in, feet short of the cuffs and Bob helped me sit down then guided me back to the right position. Easing the toe of each shoe into the slot then paused with the left metal cuff above my now trembling leg.

“Do it please…” I whispered, shuddering as I saw him close it up and insert the key. No pausing now and I almost burst into tears as the lock clicked. The other leg was secured then he reached up my dress for the hoses. I nearly creamed on the spot as he stroked my thighs, feeling the suspender straps as the fingers roamed… “Ohhh,” I said, eyes closed and heard him chuckle. “Yeah, no need to say sorry eh” I commented looking up now and grinning as it was his turn to blush. Bob straightened out the dress, the hem actually covering the cuffs so you wouldn’t know I was bound there.

“OK Sally, lie back darling, I need to finish locking you in,” he ordered, hands going around on my torso and gently easing me down. Seeing the collar appearing to the right then my head rested on the pillow. Letting go after another sensual stroke of cheeks. I sorted out my hair across the satin covering while he held up a mirror. Once finished he went for the belt, laying it across my waist and I sucked in as he pushed it closed. Three more clicks and I said that was tight enough then the clunk as it too was locked.

Laying there looking up as he came alongside again, face still a bit unsure then relaxed as I smiled and nodded. He eased the collar across then slotted it home and secured it. “Thanks,” I remarked and he reached down and touched my left breast, forgetting my wrists were not restrained as I flicked a backhander at him. “Oops… I’d better…” and I shuddered, hearing and feeling two more cuffs doing their stuff. He returned to my nipples and I blushed SO red as he worked them hard! 

Another view from the mirror and it looked great, the silvery collar over my neck and the thrill of knowing that it like the others’ was locked. Bob put the keys on a hook just below the TV screen. Once the lid was closed I’d see them dangling down but well out of reach!

The mask appeared and I remarked ‘least you don’t have to ask me or force it on. I designed it!’ and he laughed, bending down and inserting the prongs at the top. Holding it for a moment then a final smoochy kiss…ohh lovely… 

“Goodbye love… but if I remember rightly in one of the tales you’re supposed to ask for something…?” he said, eyebrows raised and by now I was trying not to let my eyes water.

“Yeah, sorry dad. Would you please… bury me?” I murmured and he smiled and nodded. What an actor he is eh?

Then Bob lowered the mask. The gag filled my mouth then another magical noise as it was locked into position. “Food test Sally?” and he got a thumbs up and I soon received a Chocosomething. Managing not to burp as he saw my fingers twitching.

I did jump when he took my left hand and after a squeeze of fingers proceeded to bind them into a ball! The right getting the same treatment. “There, that’s better isn’t it?” I couldn’t nod, the mask was too tight to move, my feet were the same but my fists could still jerk in unison and they gave him the answer. A last stroke of torso…

“OK love, here we go…” he intoned, raising the coffin lid over the top then gently closed it, plunging me into the darkness. That soon vanishing as the monitor illuminated on the lid and as my eyes adjusted I could see what Bob was to do next as he reached into the toolbox.

It was wonderful lying there watching him start to screw the lid down. Each time I heard a little ‘wrrrrring’ my heart pounded louder then the last was done beside my head. Those little things meant so much, knowing each one held me safer than before as I saw Bob grab a plastic bag from the workbench. He selected one of the little wooden coloured disks inside then walked to the top and placed it above the screwhole. Put his thumb and pressed hard…

SNAP… it went and I stared as his hand was removed… as I could hardly see where the hole had been! WOW, he really was sealing me inside and I glowed as one after another the eight holes vanished. The lid looked unblemished now as he grabbed a cloth and began polishing it again. My head spinning with joy as he worked on. Just how much better could it get…surely he wasn’t…

Bob walked to the side of the room near the hoist and the cupboard but to my surprise pulled back the carpet to reveal a long strip of wood, probably about coffin sized I reckoned judging by his height. Quite what this was for and my old ticker surged as he lifted it up… and I saw… NOTHING…but a dark space. He grabbed the camera and pointed it down… and I knew ‘clever Bob’ had excelled himself now.

He really WAS going to bury his daughter alive… yippee!

I wondered how the hell he’d done it. Broken through six inches of concrete base floor, then dug out umpteen cubic feet of soil without me knowing! And hidden all the debris, I was impressed. No wonder he’d seemed pleased when I’d jokingly asked him to ‘finish the job’. This must have been that stuff done while I was away last month, this confirmed when he held up a sign to the camera. 

‘My daily workout Sally love, told you I’d kept busy!’ I read.

Couldn’t help grin at that, he’s not the sort to lie on a beach and get burnt to a crisp. Probably only took a couple of days too, plus knowing his standards I guessed, looking at the shadow at the base it was probably the full 6 ft too.

Bob attached straps to the handles then rolled the hoist over me and secured them to it. Going to the winder and beginning to turn it. Slowly the coffin rose into the air and I was fascinated and thrilled as it came to a stop and then the whole lot was wheeled into position as he moved the hoses too.

I was trying not to shudder, cry or do anything other than be happy as I watched my interment. Bob’s impressive muscles easily turning the handle as my coffin began to lower. A jolt as it touched one side but a quick reposition by an inch and he carried on. As a good ‘rock chick’ should I was quietly humming Status Quo’s ‘Down Down deeper and down!’ as I vanished from view and kept going till finally there was the gentlest of bumps. 

I was most definitely down! 

Still smiling too and I watched like the girls had done as my ‘captor’ removed the straps. Pointing the camera down and I saw the lid looking up. No nameplate like one of the stories had but I couldn’t bollock him for that. He laid the hoses into the groove that led towards the cupboard and made sure the slack was against the end by my feet.

He dismantled the hoist parts and put them into the spare cupboard then left the room, leaving the camera on the bench facing the wall on a wide-angle setting. My hole at the bottom of the screen but I was puzzled, thinking he’d have replaced the wood patch then the carpet too as an end to the job. 

Minutes later the screen flared slightly and the lighting changed, more than electric and I guessed Bob had opened the old coal hatch above. So that’s how he’d got the debris out, must have lifted each bucket at a time… impressive. I jumped a bit as a thick yellow pipe end came down and entered the top of my…


I really was startled… then heard the trickle as something poured down the sides of the coffin… Oh my goodness, its true I thought. He’s filling my grave in!

Over the next what seemed like hours the thumps came like clockwork, getting fainter as the soil level rose till I could see the mound and eventually after a pause Bob reappeared. A thumbs-up to the camera… I’d have returned the gesture had he not taped my fingers. A hard pounding shovel flattened it down, but he was careful around the pipework, that bit being done by hand then he showed me that only the concrete level wasn’t covered by now. 

I couldn’t feel the pressure of the soil but imagined how those girls must have been. Imprisoned in their coffins and buried alive… like me. But I’d happily asked for this, though it was going to be an effort to bring me up whatever day it was to be I thought as he vanished again. The hose rose up until it was about a foot above. If only he could tip some…

‘YES’… I squealed, seeing grey globules of stuff thud onto the soil and start to spread out a bit. NOW I knew he was determined to accede to my wish and be ‘properly buried’. The concrete continued to slowly come in, at one point Bob arrived to spread it properly until finally… finally it was level with the original floor. He even skimmed off the excess with a ruler, using it to cover the hose channel up to the cupboard and then it was done.

He vanished again and soon the light faded to electric only then Bob returned, carefully peering down at his work. Knowing now his beloved (I hoped) Sally was happy as she’d asked… well I would be once he’d done the carpet mind! And he must have thought the same. Rolling it over the new stuff, making sure he didn’t leave a mark while it dried. Tacking the edges took another few minutes then all the tools were packed away. A quick vacuum of the area to clear some spillage and I could barely hear the machine. Once done he held up another sign to the camera.

All done now honey. 
I hope you’re feeling safe Sally.
Will always love you sweetheart.
Hugs and kisses.

Which was so kind and I was shuddering deliciously as I ran through my list of restraints again. Shoes… in the slots. Ankles… locked. Belt… locked. Collar… locked. Wrists… locked. Fingers… taped. Mask on. Gag on. Coffin… 8 x screws AND capped (an extra thrill as I hadn’t known about those or the stuff below) Buried under six feet of firmly packed earth.  That was covered by 6 inches of rapidly setting concrete.  Carpet tacked six inches apart.

He grinned into the camera then switched it off, plunging me into darkness and I squealed again at the realisation of my dreams… Clever Bob, then I frowned…

I hope he remembered to lock the basement door!

And here I lie in my grave, just dining on Strawberry today as you join me. Still loving my confinement though my ass is a bit numb. I’d expected to be freed after three ‘sleeps’ but no. The jackhammer for the concrete was moved into the wardrobe in preparation, along with buckets and shovels yesterday. But then he’d shut the door and walked off. Maybe tomorrow or perhaps the day after I guess. I’m due to start the office training in a fortnight’s time. Surely he’ll do me by then as he only had a few meals prepared. 

Speaking of which my foods’ fine and I can feel the belt is not so firm so I must be losing weight… yippee! No problems with the waste and all that as I watch Bob add another level of restraint for the afternoon. Now the concrete has set, him and his best mate Merv have just set up the snooker table with one end right over my grave. He’s a good player and over the next couple of hours watched him give his mate a lesson in safety play, no doubt chattering on about sports and stuff, mind you I wish I did have speakers in here. Like to know what they’re saying. 

Eventually Merv left and I saw dad coming over to the camera with a few signs… I love one-way conversations… 

‘Uncle’ Merv sends his regards Sally love’ I read on the first.  

‘He didn’t know you were going ‘Down Under’ and I giggled at that one. If only he knew!

‘He said you should have told him about travelling to Australia before going!’

‘I said you’d told me to expect a phone call when you want to return topside again. OK sweetheart?’

‘Look forward to hearing from you soon’

I smiled wryly at that, the old fool knows I cannot speak, so how do I tell him?

After all he IS going to free me soon… isn’t he?

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