Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

A Turn on Knob

by Sadistiq

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© Copyright 2010 - Sadistiq - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/m; kidnap; chains; boxed; packaged; transported; storage; nc; X

Again I say, know your partners, know it as well as you know weather or not to breathe. It is that serious. If you truly want the chance to die, by all means, ask no questions. Otherwise, always have a safety. That is all I have to say for now. Enjoy!

A Turn on Knob

Hi. My name is Jayfred Knoble. Most just called me Knob. Been that way since I was little. So that's what I go by.

I grew up normal, or what normal is to me. My Ma and Pa stayed together, even with five boys rough-housing and tearing thier house apart. They made do. I was "runt of the litter". The last, the baby. In most houses this meant special treatment. But that all went to my second brother though. As I was probrably unexpected, I was kicked aside like stray lint from the dryer. No one in the house cared much what I did. Found that out quickly when I was de-virginized by one of my Ma's friends at 12 years old. but that a story for another time. Should I be able to come back to tell it.

As I said, it were a normal house, and physically I grew up in a normal way. My legs were long and lean, as well as my arms. My neck almost felt too long, but held my head well enough. Without much care my hands were almost immaculate. My fingers are long and lean. And, yes, so is my cock. As I never did care for haircuts, my auburn hair cascaded down my back. As I spent time enough in the sun, The top of mine mane was bleached to almost a true blonde, giving the appearance of a halo. No one in the house seemed to notice.

On our block there was an old man who was moving to a retirement community, and had posted notices on the street asking for help packing things away.

The sign said $50, and so I thought, "What the heck? I can grab an easy $50." As I said, I was more or less invisible to the rest of my family, so why not?

I came to the house. The yard was in severe disrepair and was an eyesore to the neighborhood. The man who lived here was a Mr. Gribble. Most called him Gribbles. I made a silent note in mine own head not to call him that as I knocked on his door.

He answered. I had not seen him for a couple of years and was almost taken aback by who I saw. As I remembered, he was very tall. No bulky, but still a very healthy athletic-looking person. But this visage I saw before me... It was the same face as Gribbles, but this person was literally shrivelled. Almost the ghost of Gribbles. The ghost Gribbles smiled.

"Young Knob! What are you doing here?"

He knew me! And called me by mine own nickname! Again I was taken aback. i stammered my answer.

"I-I saw you flyer Grib- I mean, Mister Gribble."

At this he smiled even more broadly.

"You can call me Gribbles if you want to. I know the kids call me that."

At this I relaxed a bit, and entered his house. It was almost bare, just a few larger objects remained. I started to ask him what else needed to be done, but at this he held up a thin finger.

"No. What I need you for is in the basement."

Gribbles guided me so that I would be first to see the basement. In there were several boxes, a few opened.

I immediately went to one of the closed boxes and looked over my shoulder.

"So you need me to move these?"

As I touched the box, it shifted by itself.

"Not quite." Gribbles replied,

I did not notice how dark this basement was, until a shadow began to move and held a rag over my mouth and nose until I slipped into unconciousness.

When I came to I had a headache you could not believe. I tried to cradle my poor mellon, but realized my hands were elsewise engaged. There were chains around them, to my... my ankles?! How? What? And- how?

I opened my eyes and saw flat brown. I was puzzled at first. then I realized it was cardboard. I struggled. I tried to yell, but found that my mouth was taped.

The box was open, and I looked up as much as I could. Was my neck chained as well?!

It was.

Gribbles came into view and hunched over the box.

"Oh, Knob! I am so glad you did not die! I have had problems with other boys."

I began to scream to my guts out, but the gag was very effective. Gribbles laughed until he coughed, and brought up a handkerchief to his face. I noticed blood, and began to try to scream more.

Gribbles noticed my panic at his own blood. And he smiled sweetly.

"Yes. I am dying. but I want beautiful things around me when I go. I have noticed you through the years. Your family never thought much of you, did they?"

Why is he talking about me in the past sense?!

"I want you to meet Ivan, A grand-nephew that came over from my homeland to help me. Yes, he was the one who ethered you, undressed you and chained you. Oh, you had not realized you were undressed, did you?"

I looked down, and to my horror I saw there wasn't a stitch of clothing on me. I tried to scream even louder through my taped mouth. All that came out was a whimper.

"Yes, Ivan knows his trade well", Gribbles said I struggled, to no avail. Gribbles leaned farther in to the box I was in. I could not look at him, but I could feel his hot breath on my naked nape.

"I know your family won't miss you. I know you're alone."

In a fresh panic I knew he was right. They would think that I finally ran away or something. I strained against the chains.

At this Gribbles cooed at me.

"Do not worry. You are safe now. Ivan will pack you up with the rest of my boys. I searched long, but never thought I would have you, precious Knob. You will be first with me when I rest. Until then, you are to go into storage. Ivan will take you there now."

That was the last voice I heard. Either Ivan was mute, or just dedicated to his job. I heard moaning and whimpering from the other boxes, but that gave little comfort. When Gribbles was done talking to me Ivan dumped a ton of styrofoam peanuts on me. Sound was muffled, as well as my screams.

The box was taped shut. Moved with a handcart into what I could only guess was a U-Haul truck. I heard the muffled screams of others stacked.

We were then moved to what I can assume was a storage shed. Packed just as tightly. I tried to calculate how many boxes. At least twenty. But I could not hear twenty voices.

So now here we are. No food. Nor water. Even when old man Gribbles dies, there is but a sparse space to escape. As much as I've tried my chains, I don't see that happening. Packed as tightly as I am, I cannot see any hope to get out of this.

I hope I die before Gribbles does.



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