Darkraptor1

Oh boy…the alarm is buzzing. And I was having such a nice dream too. Groaning, I open my eyes. It’s dark, but that’s because I’m curled up underneath the bedsheets. I don’t want to come out from here, from this nice, dark, warm place. But the alarm is buzzing and the only way to stop its noise is to get out, cross the room and tap the button. My owner designed the room to do that. ...

Going back through some old files I found this one that was originally posted to the first plaza forum in December 2004 from Darkraptor. This is my first full-scale attempt at forniphilia, or the art of turning people into objects. This one is a bit dark (but I personally like grim stories), so proceed with caution. Other then that, enjoy! The hidden house of human furniture By Darkraptor1 There is a house, not far out of town, where no one goes who wishes to return. This lonely house, according to local myth, is the place of many things. It is a place of mysterious spies. A place of meeting for a secret society that wishes to take over the world. Perhaps it was the house of a famous person who wished not to be disturbed. Perhaps it was just the residence of an intently shy person. A curious passer-by would not gain much from looking at the house. It was a double storied house, built in old Victorian fashion. The windows and blinds were always closed, the doors and gates always locked. Whoever lived there clearly did not want to be disturbed. But the mail was always collected, the bills and taxes paid on time and promptly, so no government officials could go inside the house. Exactly as the house’s owner had planned. For this particular house was in fact, a secret meeting place, as well as the residency of an intently shy person, who did want her career to be exposed to the outside world. For she was a specialist in the field of forniphilia, the art of converting living, breathing human beings into nothing more then living, breathing, pieces of furniture. The residents at this house called her “Mistress.” Her real name was not known to anyone but herself. Any attempts to find out her real name was dealt with harshly and severely. The occupants of her house were numerous. There were five servants, who obeyed their masters every will. They were her servants, and her thugs. For the other residents of the house were slaves. Mistress often sent her servants on errands, to kidnap ordinary people, as well as runaways, the homeless, and the forgotten. These people were kidnapped, and forced into a lifetime of slavery and bondage to a cruel and unmerciful master. Aaron was one of those slaves. He had been laid off his job a month ago. He had scavenged to make a living, living beneath bridges and in bushes. He had been taken less then a week ago. The thugs had ganged up on him, tackling him with their bodies, pinning him beneath their weight. They had forced a gag into his mouth while tying his wrists and ankles together. He had been thrown into a truck, which had driven off into the night. The next five days had been torture. He had been “educated” into the art of being a slave. Learning to obey any order without question. Learning that with defiance came torture and pain. Learning that any attempts to escape brought a lifetime of misery. In the end, he was ordered to wear a black catsuit at all times. In addition, he was forced to wear a pair of handcuffs and ankle irons, which were to be kept on him for life, even during sleep and showers. A gag was to kept in his mouth at all times, except during meals. He had been given the task of cleaning the furniture around the house. He was forced to go throughout the house, clumsily brushing down the furniture with a duster held in his shackled hands. What scared him was that almost all of the furniture was really living human beings, strapped, tied, and locked into positions where they became tables, candleholders, chandeliers, chairs, and even beds. Their eyes had looked at him while he dusted and cleaned them. The eyes spoke of silent misery and agony, of being locked into unnatural positions for hours on end, for days, for weeks, even months. Some, he had been told, had been there for years. The escape attempt had been planned early. Aaron had decided that death was preferable to a lifetime of slavery. He had consulted with four other slaves, who had been assigned various duties of cleaning, cooking, and housekeeping. They had all agreed to try and escape through the basement, through a small window that one of them had found. During the night of the escape attempt, everything went well at first. They had slipped into the basement, avoiding the gazes of the furniture left behind. They had reached the window and were almost through getting it opened when the mistresses servants found them. The slaves had fought back, but were easily subdued. Extra restraints were placed on all five slaves, and they were lead upstairs. If there was one thing the mistress liked more then anything else, it was sentencing various slaves to terms as furniture. She started with the lighter punishments. The cook, clad in a blue catsuit and wearing an armbinder, was sentenced to one month as a cabinet. He would be the cabinet, holding the drinks and food supplies that were to be placed inside. As the other slaves had watched, the servants took out an old cabinet and sawed away the shelves inside. Taking the cook, they forced him into the cabinet, where they locked into a series of stocks that fit around his feet, ankles, waist, arms, and neck. Those stocks were then nailed into the cabinet shell. When it was finished, the cabinet was placed up against a wall, and various food supplies were placed on the stocks, which now doubled as shelves. The cabinet stood a good chance of surviving its punishment. It was still fairly strong and well built. One of Mistress’s habits was to simply abandon most of her furniture, letting her servants feed them when they wished (which was not often). Only her most prized pieces of furniture were fed and toileted regularly. As the cabinet watched on, Mistress moved on to the next punishment. The vacuum-cleaner slave was next. She was a target Mistress had focused on for months, eager for a chance to punish her, for being too slow with vacuuming. The vacuum slave was sentenced to one month as a table, where she would hold the food placed on her as the residents of the house were seated for dinner. The table was brought out. It looked ordinary, except for the fact that the table itself was about fifteen inches thick, and had a hole for the table’s head to stick out of. The vacuum slave was taken to this table. The top was opened up, and she was forced into it. Cuffs were applied to her wrists and ankles, forcing her to assume a spread-eagle position. The table was closed, sealing the woman inside. Except, by this point, she was no longer a human as far as the servants and the mistress were concerned. A blindfold was applied to the table’s eyes, which would stay in place for fifteen days. The table gave out muffled moans and whimpers as it struggled. The table legs (which had formerly been humans) whimpered slightly under the weight. As the table was left to moan about the coming thirty days, it was now time to move on to the harsher punishments. Dish cleaning slave was next. She kneeled on the floor, held in place with cuffs behind her back and a choke chain around her neck. Her black catsuit was damp with sweat. The punishment was announced. Three months as a lamp post. Dish cleaning slave moaned audibly at this sentence. A quick tug on the choke chain ensured her silence. The lamp post itself was little more then a vertical piece of slightly padded wood. Dish cleaning slave was taken to this post. The servants forced her to stand onto the board. Built-in steel cuffs were applied the slave, binding her to the post, making her a part of it. When the ankle, wrist, waist, and throat cuffs were locked firmly in place, black straps were produced and wound around the lamp post, securing both pieces together. A black hood was applied around the lamp post’s head, keeping only the eyes revealed. Taking the actual lamp itself, Mistresses servants placed it into the board and left it there. The lamp post was moved over to the door, where it would remain for the next three months. If it survived that long. With one slave turned into a lamp post, it was down to the last two sentences. The T.V. tuner slave was next. Her punishment was the most common, but with a term longer then most. One year as a chair. T.V. tuner slave moaned in fear upon hearing her fate. She knew that survival was not likely. Maybe… in a way… it would be a relief, an escape from this horrible place. A chair base was brought into the room. It consisted of a wheel base, with a piece of wood on top. T.V. tuner was forced onto the floor, where her limbs were squished together and her arms forced to her legs. Red straps were produced and placed all over T.V. turner slave, ensuring that she was locked firmly into position. When it was finished, her legs were bent back onto her chest, and pointing straight up. Her arms were strapped to her legs. The bottom of her upper legs formed the seat. The back of her lower legs was the back support. T.V. turner slave was picked up and placed onto the seat base. More straps were applied, and she was locked to the base. The chair was gagged. It’s eyes were left open. Rolling it away, the servants took the chair to the computer room, where it would stay for the next year. Now, only Aaron was left. Mistress smiled to herself. She had a punishment rarely administered in mind for him. He would pay dearly for his escape attempt. Mistress took great pride in describing his punishment. He would be turned into a living display piece. A piece that could be shown to other slaves, so that they knew what happened to those who planned and lead escape attempts. To show him what the other display pieces were, Mistress had Aaron collared with a leash, and he was lead downstairs. There was a room in the basement of the house, one that was rarely opened, and only then, to show slaves what might await them if they tried to escape. The door had a small sign on it. A word, cared with gold letters, gave the room its name. Museum. Inside the room was a grotesque display of objects, all of which had been humans. There was a large cement pillar. A human head stuck out of it’s top. The pillar’s head groaned slightly. Two tubes ran out of the pillar to small collection and IV boxes. There was a small sign at the pillar’s base. It read, “Slave 103. Punishment: Ten years.” The date showed that the sign had been created nine years ago. The next object on display was a statue of a man. It too, was crafted in cement. The form was sitting in a chair. But the statue’s eyes were that of a real human. Two small tubes ran out of the figures arms, towards a waste collection box, and an IV box. The sign in front of this one read, “Slave 273. Punishment: Thirty years.” The man that was now a statue had been there for five years. Aaron’s fear and dread was building. The third display was a curious one. It was a large cage. Inside of it, there was a human. It was covered from head to toe with black leather bondage gear. The clothing was so thick that it was impossible to tell the thing’s gender. The sign in front of the cage read, “Slave 598. Punishment: Fifty years.” The human had been there only two weeks. Aaron was sweating profusely. The next display… was empty. It consisted of only a flat steel table. There were numerous black leather straps attached to the table’s sides, ready to be strapped down upon a victim. Aaron was the victim. A servant came into the room, ignoring the groans and moans of the other displays. She placed a sign in front of this table. It read, “Slave 994. Punishment:” “Life” A heavy blow landed on Aaron’s head, knocking him into unconsciousness. When Aaron awoke, he was mildly relieved to find that he was out of his catsuit, along with the cuffs and the gag. However, his situation was now much worse. He was in a neoprene body bag, tight and body hugging. His arms were inside internal sleeves, making it impossible to use them in any way. Mistresses servants were finishing his bondage. They zipped up the back of the bag. When the zippers met, a small padlock was placed between them and locked, sealing the zippers shut. Aaron watched in terror as the only key that could unlock them was calmly placed into a garbage tin. He was picked up and carried over to the steel table. He was placed upon it. Aaron squirmed and thrashed within his neoprene prison, but he knew all too well that escape was now impossible. He was locked inside this prison for life. The straps were taken and applied to Aaron’s immobilized body. Strap after strap was applied to his bag, forcing him against its surface. Soon, six leather straps were holding Aaron down firmly. Aaron’s screams and pleas for mercy were locked away behind a ball gag that had been inserted into his mouth. In addition to the built in straps, it had been fixed with dental cement, ensuring that it could never come out without ripping Aaron’s teeth out as well. It was almost time to finish the sentence. Only the neoprene hood remained. Mistress put on the hood herself. She took it in her hands and slowly pulled it up and over Aaron’s neck, chin, mouth, and eyes. This hood had no eyeholes. The only holes were in the nostril area. Mistress whispered to Aaron that he should enjoy looking at her, because that was the last thing he would ever see. Aaron screamed as the eternal darkness took his sight. The neoprene hood was placed over Aaron’s face and pushed into place. The zipper on the back and pulled down, and it too was locked to the other zippers, ensuring that it would never come off. A black posture collar was placed around Aaron’s neck, which forced him to keep his head straight. He could still move his head slightly from side to side, but that was all. It was finished. The IV tube and waste collection tube were turned on. A life-giving liquid was pumped into the display’s body, which would keep it alive. Mistress whispered to the display that, considering its young age of roughly twenty five years, it should probably live well into its eighties. The display’s only response was to twitch and squirm within its tight body bag. Satisfied that the punishment was complete, Mistress ordered the museum display to be tilted at an angle, so that all could see what became of a human named Aaron, who had been turned into a museum display, where it would remain for the rest of it’s life. And so, dear readers, take this warning to heart. For the next time you enter this town… Beware the lonely house.

Going back through some old files I found this one that was originally posted to the first plaza forum in 2005 from Darkraptor. “Here’s my first attempt at a packaged story, so please let me know what you think”. The Unusual Hotel By Darkraptor1 The address was correct. 1739 Everlast Way. But she didn’t expect the house to be so… big. She had imagined perhaps a small middle class house. But what she got was a mansion three stories high, practically the size of the White House. Audrey walked up to main gates, her taxi driving down the road behind her. She reached the gates and found a small intercom embedded in the stone corners of the main gate. She pressed the button. A female voice answered. “Please state your business.” The voice requested. Audrey looked at the small business card she was holding. “I’m here to visit with Mr. Hunning. I… uh… I had a 10:00 appointment with him.” There was a slight pause. “Name please.” The intercom said. “Audrey Frost.” “Passcode please.” Audrey looked at a ten-digit number on the business card and read it out. The gates unlocked with a sharp click. “Thank you. Have a nice day.” The voice said. The gates of the mansion parted, granting Audrey access to the road leading up to the front gate. She put the card in her purse and walked down the road towards the mansion. The gates closed behind her with a loud clang. The oak doors of the mansion opened before Audrey even reached the front step. A handsome looking man walked out to greet her. “Miss. Frost I presume?” He asked. A nod confirmed his question. “I am Mr. Hunning. I’ve gotten everything all set up for you. Please come inside.” Audrey was struck by how handsome this man was. He was only in his thirties, but he was obviously rich and happy with life. The two walked into the house. Audrey couldn’t help but let out a little gasp when she saw the main lobby of the mansion. A black iron chandelier lit the room. Dark green covered the walls and the floor in the form of paint and carpet. “You like my green color?” Hunning asked. “I’ve always thought that the green symbolized the earth. The earth that we must all end up entombed in.” ...

In a world plagued by crime, it was inevitable that eventually people would become sick to death of having to deal with rape, murder, thievery, and virtually every other crime imaginable. So, after several years of skyrocketing crime rates, a law was passed in order to deal with the rising crime rate. Many would call it drastic, overbearing, and cruel, but the public at large didn’t care. They wanted crime to stop. You were one of those people. You wanted the crimes to stop. You never imagined that you would be standing in a courtroom, facing judgment for a crime that you committed. Under the law, there’s only one kind of crime, the type that is done on purpose. The law recognizes that there are accidents, events that are not done maliciously. Unfortunately for you, every other crime, no matter how small, or how big, is treated the same. Shackled and bolted to the witness booth, you stand in the court, listening to the judge reading off your crime. It was a minor one, shoplifting from a store. You had tried to be careful, to do it in such a way that no one would ever notice it was gone. And you had needed that medicine anyway, and with no money, there had essentially been only one thing you could do. Unfortunately, the court and the judge doesn’t see it that way. You went into that store purposefully choosing to steal, and there’s no excuse you can give. And consequently, there is only one sentence you can receive. Whimpering, involuntarily struggling against your chains, you listen as the judge pronounces sentence - life as a public toy. The guards come over and unbolt you from the chair, but quickly draw your hands behind you, and cuff them there before leading you out of the court. You’re taken into a side room, where you have to sign several documents. You could refuse, but that wouldn’t be a good idea. You’re forced to sign a document admitting your guilt, and that you accept the court’s decision. You don’t, but what are you going to do about it? Once the documents and paperwork have been signed, you’re taken into another room that’s used very often these days, it’s an operating room, with a single, large bed in the center, waiting for you. Panicking, you desperately try to get away. You know what goes on in this room, and what happens to those who go in. As the guards shove you towards the table, you frantically try to break your arms free of the handcuffs, thrashing them around as much as you can. But it’s useless. The cuffs holding your arms are too secure, and impossible to break free from. You’re placed down on the table and held tightly by the nurses as the chief surgeon comes up with the anesthesia mask. You stare at it, terrified as it descends towards you. You know that once it goes on, and you become unconscious, there’s no going back. Then it’s on your mouth. You try to hold your breath, but you can only do so for so long before you feel burning in your lungs. At last, you involuntarily take a breath - and then everything goes dark. The last thing you feel before slipping away is utter terror. ...

Author’s Note: This is my final fictional bondage story. It is my hope that you all enjoy my swan song, so to speak. Prologue Once, a very, very long time ago, a world was created. This world was very similar to our own: It was called Earth; all the continents were there, along with all the major cities, and nations, though there were a few minor differences. There were different geological landscapes, including hidden cities, and there were countries that existed there, that do not exist in our reality. But for the most part, history unfolded there much like it did on ours, with all manner of stories that spanned all the eras and epochs. But just as every tale has an ending, it has a beginning. The very first story recorded in this world told of a man who lived in ancient Egypt. His name was Targonamey. Targonamey was an ambitious adviser to the pharaoh, one who desired many things, as do all beings who’s stories are told. But Targonamey was cunning and scheming; he desired more then the rules or practices of his time and society allowed. Wealth and power were not enough. Eventually, through his gift of magic and sorcery, he sought to gain the throne of Egypt himself, where he could set himself up as the immortal ruler of all the worlds. But it was not to be. His story, like everyone else’s, eventually came to its allotted end. And while his tale was, in part, determined for him, his choices influenced the ending. His scheming, plots, and sorcery eventually led to his downfall, and an ending that was far from what he wanted. ...

continues from part nine Part 10: End of Days Everything had come down to this. Quinn couldn’t quite understand it, but as she ran through the ruins, her boots struggling through the sand, a calm descended over her, as if she was subconsciously aware that it would lead to this. Her whole life, her experiences, everything, had led to this moment. She was fighting to stop a madman from trying to enslave not only one universe, but countless others as well. The fates of countless beings rode on her shoulders… her, a middle-aged dominatrix with a slightly bad back, and a scroll she had no idea how to use. The calm allowed her to disregard that last fact as she finally reached the base of the pyramid and leapt on. Adrenaline flowing through her veins, she easily scrambled up, and started to climb the massive blocks before her, ignoring the rough stone that tried to cut into her hands and feet, which were protected by her boots and rubber suit. Down below, she could no longer hear Anubis fighting the others, but she didn’t dare look back. She didn’t have time to look, didn’t have time for anything, other then to climb towards her destiny. The roar of bandages reminded her that she would have to climb fast. She had managed to climb halfway up when Targonamey floated even higher off the top of the pyramid. Vikki almost stopped moving, fearing that he would spot her and use whatever spells he had on hand, but she knew there was no time to do even that. She had to keep climbing, no matter what. But Targonamey had seen her, and though he would take no action to stop her, he had others who would. The last of his cranes shot down towards Quinn, bandages stretched between its feet. Quinn saw it coming, but there was nowhere for her to run as the creature knocked her down, then leapt onto her back, managing to roll her over again and again as it wrapped her up, like a spider wrapping up it’s prey. Quinn lost her grip on the scroll, which fell from her hands, and bounced down the blocks. “No!“ Quinn shouted, struggling to reach out to it. But the crane had wrapped her arms too tightly, and she was helpless as it applied a final layer, then grabbed hold of Quinn’s mummified form, and flew up towards Targonamey. It hovered before him, dangling Quinn like a trophy. Quinn struggled, kicking, trying to break free of her wrappings. “How fitting,“ Targonamey said, not bothering to look back at Quinn. She was beneath him now, barely worthy of notice. “It appears that the storyteller has a most sick sense of humor.. .the very first creation, and the very last creation, together at the end of all things. And even now, at the end, you still do not understand,“ This time Quinn didn’t try to argue or reason with him, struggling to escape her wrappings. “I should have expected a lesser being like yourself to not understand,“ Targonamey said, and for the first time since Quinn had heard his voice, he sounded… sad. Targonamey looked up to the heavens, to all the universes before them. “But no one can understand… no one but myself… I alone fully understand the magnitude of all this.“ Quinn kept struggling, refusing to give up. Targonamey turned, and looked at Quinn. “Do you not understand, Quinn?“ he asked. There was no anger in his voice, no hate or displeasure; only sadness and grief. “You are not wanted,“ Targonamey said. “You are worthless. As am I; as is every single being in all of reality. Our god, our creator, has no more interest in us. We have been cast aside, discarded like garbage in the streets. None of you know this, and in a way, I envy you for it. You don’t understand the crushing despair of knowing your creator has abandoned you. Look!“ Tagronamey pointed to the universes stretched before them. “Look at them all! Full of life, full of beings who are only playthings, toys for some being we cannot see or even hear. And now they are about to be destroyed, and taken into nothingness, because the storyteller is tired of us, all of us! His children, who are being thrown over his shoulder without even a second glance, left in the mud and the rain. Unloved, unwanted!“ His face contorted in anger. “I will not go quietly into the nothingness! I will rage against it, even to my dying breath! If our creator doesn’t want these worlds, then I will take them, and I will do better then he ever did! I will become a god, and I will never discard my charges, or my rule!“ He leaned in very close. “None of you understand, and none of you ever will. But I will make you understand! I will force you to learn that we are but toys! And that among us all, only the strongest, the most worthy, will rule and dominate!“ He spun, and spread his arms and staff. “Do you hear me, great storyteller?!“ Targonamey shouted to the heavens. “Do you?! I, Targonamey, your first creation, your first toy, now declare this to you! I will not exist for your sick pleasure anymore! I will no longer be yours to abuse as you will! I will take this realm as my own! And as you leave forever, know that I will dominate the others, take your place, and make them despise you forever more!“ There was no answer, no voice descending from above, no great shining figure of light to answer Targonamey. And for a moment, the man floated, and watched, and waited. That waiting gave enough time for Quinn to act. Having been unable to free herself, she now turned to more drastic measures. Thus, she opened her mouth, and bit down on the crane’s leg as hard as she could. It squawked and spun, loosing its grip, and sending Quinn flying. She hit the stones and bounced, rolling down the pyramid, each blow knocking the wind out of her. Terrified, screaming, she kept falling, a mummy helpless to stop herself. Then, as if a hand had come down, she gently came to rest halfway down the pyramid. Stunned, she looked around, unable to believe what had happened. At her speed, she should have gone all the way to the bottom, and possibly broken every bone in her body. Yet, she had stopped. There was a roar. Turning, Quinn saw that the bandages had reached the base of the pyramid. And though she couldn’t see around the structure, she somehow knew that the bandages from all over the world had reached its base, leaving the pyramid as the sole island amongst an entire planet of white. The sky roared, the sound of machinery and gears breaking down growing ever louder. “No!“ Targonamey shouted. “You will not rob me of my destiny! Not now!“ Raising his staff, he yelled out in ancient Egyptian, and even from halfway down the pyramid, Quinn could feel the power in his words, as they swept over her. Glancing up to the sky, Quinn whispered, “I don’t know if you can hear me or not, or if you’re even real… but I could use your help.“ With a thunderous blast, a shaft of bandages shot out from Targonamey’s staff, and headed up into the sky, quickly spreading out, and invading each universe, and beginning to mummify it, as the bandages had mummified this one. “Please,“ Quinn pleaded, struggling. If there was ever a time for a miracle, this was it. “Quinn!“ Turning her head, Quinn saw Vikki climbing up the pyramid, Gromet right behind her, and Anubis behind him, enraged beyond all measure. “Vikki!“ “Hang on, we’re coming!“ She had only taken another step when bandages shot towards her like a rocket. Only at the last second did she leap aside, just missing them. But the bandages instead found another target, grabbing Gromet. Like Xesex before him, Gromet was yanked towards Targonamey, the bandages wrapping him up faster then the eye could follow. And then, like a tongue yanking a helpless fish into a waiting mouth, Gromet was absorbed into the bandages in Targonamey’s robes. “Gromet!“ Quinn shouted. “No!“ The bandages came again, once more aiming for Vikki. Again she managed to dodge, and again the bandages caught unexpected prey, this time grabbing Anubis. The Egyptian god of the dead roared and fought, but even he, a god of old, who had seen so many tales, was helpless before the bandages. And as he had done to so many others, he was mummified, wrapped head to toe in an inescapable cocoon that he could never escape. ...

continues from part ten Part 11: The Field of Peace There was nothing but light, bright and powerful, surrounding Quinn until she couldn’t see anything but the brilliant white around her. But it wasn’t painful to look at; in fact, it had a warmth to it that was soothing, and Quinn wondered if this was the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel that she had heard so much about. Then the light faded away. But as it went, something else came in its place: music. It wasn’t a heavenly choir, nor were there words, but it was the most soothing, relaxing music Quinn had ever heard. Then, in the blink of an eye, Quinn felt herself lying on something soft. Looking down, she was surprised to see that she was lying on what appeared to be a cloud. All around her were giant clouds, lit up in the colors of an unseen sunset. Was this heaven? It certainly felt like it; the air was filled with the most soothing peace Quinn could imagine, and the more she bathed in it, the more her cares and worries slipped away, until she felt as if she could just lie here forever, and be completely content, and at peace with herself. But then again, if this was heaven, where was her robes, wings, halo, and harp? She looked down at herself and found none of those things. She was naked, but she felt no shame at all. In fact, she was delighted to see that, although she was still in her fifties, there wasn’t a wrinkle or piece of saggy skin to be found, nor were there any of the scrapes or bruises she had acquired recently. Even her breasts were firm and perfect, jiggling ever so slightly as she swayed back and forth, watching them go. Looking over, she saw that she didn’t have to be naked, for her rubber body glove, trench coat, gloves, and boots were lying beside her, clean and fresh, as if they were brand new. She pulled them on, and was delighted to find out that they were more comfortable then ever, tight, slick, and hugging her body all over, yet without any folds or creases, as if a tailor had re-made them to fit her perfectly. There was no doubt in her mind now… this was indeed heaven. But as she looked around, there was no one else to be seen. Was she the only one here? There were footsteps in the distance. Looking ahead, Quinn watched as some of the clouds came together, forming a path as someone appeared, walking towards her. Exactly who it was, Quinn couldn’t tell, but the figure had no wings or robes, nor did it glow with a divine presence. As it got closer, she was surprised to see that the figure wasn’t even human at all. The figure was a velociraptor, tall, its skin dark, but not overly so. It walked with a human gait, its long tail swishing as it came towards her, yet there was no indication that it was interested in eating her. In fact, it seemed to have a smile on its face, which seemed impossible. Dinosaurs, Quinn remembered, didn’t have the ability to smile. Yet this one was. The raptor walked up to Quinn, and looked down at her. “Hello Quinn.” Quinn took a step back, caught off guard at the sight of a talking velociraptor. But the shock only lasted a moment, for the raptor crouched, so as to be at her level. There was a calm, reassuring smile upon its face, like the one a mother would give to a child. And its eyes… they were human eyes, full of life and personality, and not the dark, emotionless orbs of an animal. “Who are you?” Quinn asked, wondering if she had somehow ended up in dinosaur heaven. “I am the storyteller,” the raptor said. Surprised, Quinn said, “Then… you’re God?” The raptor shook his head. “Not in the manner that you’re thinking.” “But… you’re the storyteller Targonamey was talking about?” The raptor nodded. “Then… you created my world. And all the others, and… me.” The raptor nodded. “I did.” Standing face to face with her creator, Quinn felt as if she should fall to her knees and worship him, or something similar. Yet, he didn’t seem at all interested in being worshiped. Instead, he seemed delighted to see her, for he had an aura that was calm, reassuring, and pleasant to feel. “What happened?” Quinn asked, changing the subject. “To earth? To everything and everyone?” “It ended,” the raptor said simply. Quinn looked around. “Is this heaven?” “Not quite. It’s the waiting room, so to speak. And you will be the last one ever to walk through it.” Quinn looked around, slightly confused, but still smiling. “Then why do I feel so good? This certainly feels like heaven.” “Indeed. After all you, and all the others went through, I thought it was only fair to make things feel good.” The raptor stood, started to head back the way he came. “Come,” he said. “Walk with me.” Quinn gladly did so. Though taller, and with longer legs, the raptor went at a slow pace, easily allowing Quinn to keep up with him as they walked through the clouds, which kept forming the path in front of them as they walked. “You have many questions,” the raptor said after a moment. “The understatement of the year.” “What would you like to ask?” Quinn thought, unsure. Here she was, face to face with a being who had the power of a god, to create life, and to reshape reality as he saw fit. What to ask him? “So even though you’re not God, you’re the god of my universe, and all the others you created?” “In those words, yes.” “Then… are we still in a story?” “Oh yes.” Quinn frowned. “Then… if you’re a storyteller, and you’re with me in a story then… how does that even work?” “Try not to think about it too much,” the raptor said. “You’ll get a headache.” Taking his advice, Quinn turned her thoughts elsewhere. “So you created everything?” “In your universes, yes. Xesex, Driders, Targonamey, and all their worlds, I did create.” “And they’re gone now?” “The worlds are,” the raptor said. “But its inhabitants are not.” Quinn looked around, but there was no one else in sight. She also sensed that they were the only ones inside this place. “Was it you who stopped me?” Quinn asked. “On the pyramid?” The raptor nodded. “And the scroll… was that you as well?” The raptor nodded again. “I slipped it to Xesex.” “So you were essentially in control of everything, then?” “Mostly,” the raptor said. “I guided it, but I allowed you and the others to make your own choices, and your own actions.” Though she didn’t feel in the slightest bit angry, Quinn asked her next question without pondering how it would sound. “Well, next comes the big question… why’d you make such a horrible universe?” ...

continues from part one Part 2: A Great Discovery 5000 years later… “Steve?” Grabbing the radio, Steve brought it up. “Yes?” “You’ll want to come down here “I think we’ve got something!” Steve grinned. “Really? I’ll be right there!” Even as the radio was put down, Steve was already grabbing his camera and running out of the tent. For once, he was able to ignore the blistering heat of the desert as he headed towards the dig site. Around him, men and women were eagerly shouting and running towards the dig site, all eager to see what had been discovered. From within the crowds, Steve’s supervisor emerged, jogged over. An Indian woman, eighteen years Steve’s senior, she looked slightly out of place among the local workers, but her well muscled body left no doubt that she was more then capable of joining them on their excavations. “So what do we got?” Steve asked, his excitement almost overwhelming him. “Scanners show there’s something man sized at the bottom of the pit,” Geeta said. “With any luck, we should hit it within the next few minutes.” Steve grinned. “Awesome.” Leading the way, Geeta led him back towards the dig site, which was nestled near a large outcropping of rock that jutted up from the desert sand. There were numerous scaffolding platforms, winches, and cables strung about a deep hole that was being dug; at fifty feet, it had been very difficult to dig down that deep, but for the prize that might lurk down there, it would be worth all the work, blood, and sweat that had poured into digging. Reaching the scaffolding, Geeta shooed the curious workers aside. While they were entitled to watch the unveiling, they would need to do so from a spot where they wouldn’t interfere with the others. “You said man sized,” Steve told Geeta as they both got on a ladder and started down. “I take it you meant Sarcophagus sized?” “Yes,” Geeta said. “Precisely. And one of the bigger ones we’ve found.” They got off at the bottom of the pit. “Really? How so?” “If our scans are correct, then the sarcophagus is about twenty percent thicker then any other one we’ve found, that could mean that the mummy inside is that of a very important person.” “Which means they’re buried with treasure!” Young as he was at the age of twenty, Steve still held dreams of finding gold and all manner of treasure out here on these digs. So far, during his foreign exchange trip for the university, that had yet to happen, but he still held out hope. Geeta smiled. “Possibly, or he just wanted to be extra sure his rest would remain undisturbed.” “Well, afraid his luck is about to run out,” Steve said, eagerly climbing down more platforms and ladders. They finally reached the bottom of the pit, where several workers were already digging away at the caked mud, shovels tossing the earth aside and into baskets, where they were rapidly carried up to the surface, emptied, then brought down again. The workers, though weary and worn out from weeks of work, now had a surge of strength, and were tirelessly shoveling, eager to find what was beneath their feet. Jumping down with them, Geeta took a shovel and joined in, her muscles bulging as she scooped out the hard ground. Above, Steve stayed where he was, taking pictures, for his primary task on this expedition was documenting every find they came across. And while they had discovered some pottery and a few settlements, this find promised to be the greatest of all. The group dug for several more moments before Geeta’s shovel struck something hard. Everyone stopped, and looked at each other. A hush fell upon the site. Kneeling, Geeta took a hand trowel, started to carefully dig away at the last of the mud remaining. With several scoops, the earth was pushed away, and she found herself looking at a thick stone surface, jagged and worn down. Almost unable to breathe, she kept scooping the earth away, revealing more and more of the stone. And with each scoop, it became clear that this was something man-made, and not of the earth. A few minutes later, and she finally revealed the massive, aged lid of a sarcophagus long buried. Long had they searched for it, and now that it was before their eyes, she couldn’t help but smile. As the workers around them cheered, Steve couldn’t stop grinning either. ...

continues from part two Part 3: The Arrival She had her, the woman, free only minutes prior, was now her prisoner. It had been such an easy matter to capture the woman, and wrap her body in bandages, covering every inch of flesh and skin, but she hadn’t stopped there. Great care had been taken to use bandages that were extra tight and stretchy, which compressed the woman’s cute, curvy body. Now that her mummification was complete, Quinn could ensure that her prisoner had no chance of escape, no opportunity to wiggle free. The casket would see to that. Kneeling, Quinn took the mummy’s squirming shoulders and began to drag her across the floor, heading towards the open casket. Candles were set about it, giving a soft glow to the darkened room. Buried under the wrappings, the woman couldn’t see the beauty, or realize how elegant this entombment really was. All she knew was darkness, and the knowledge that the bandages wrapped around her body made escape impossible. But still she wiggled, refusing to go without a fight. Reaching the casket, Quinn wrapped her arms around the mummy’s tummy, squeezing hard as she lifted her off the ground. As if sensing the end, the mummy squirmed, legs trying to kick, offering one last feeble resistance. But her efforts were for naught, as the resistance did little good. Amused at the effort, Quinn stood, letting her mummified captive squirm, enjoying the feel of the wrappings, and soft flesh beneath her arms. Then, deciding to end it, she gave the mummy a squeeze, putting her in a warm hug. Such a move seemed to calm the mummy slightly, as she went lip. Arms crossed and wrapped over her chest, she couldn’t return the favor. Relaxed as she was, the mummy was caught off guard when Quinn quickly lowered her into the casket. She began to struggle again, rolling and wiggling as Quinn took the straps and buckled them around the bandaged body, tightening them until the mummy couldn’t move, held down tightly. All she could do now was wiggle helplessly, a faint mewing escaping her wrappings. “Sleep well,“ Quinn said, grinning as she took the lid and brought it down. When it was closed, she put the latches in place, locking the lid down, and leaving the mummy to wiggle inside its resting place. Stepping back, Quinn looked the casket over, making sure everything was in place, and that every lock, strap, and bolt was secure. Once it was, and everything was to her satisfaction, she rubbed her hands through her hair, and collapsed on the sofa, glad to be off her feet for a few minutes. These play sessions were still as enjoyable as ever, but as Quinn had gotten older, she got tired more easily. But that wasn’t a problem; a few minutes of rest, and she’d be ready to go once more. Her rest was interrupted when the phone rang. Groaning, Quinn reached over and picked it up. “Black Delights,“ she said, putting on her best business voice. “How can I help you? “Oh, hi, this is Mr. Kim.“ Delighted, Quinn smiled. “Mr. Kim! Calling in to confirm your appointment, are you?“ Even over the phone, Quinn could easily visualize her next client grinning. “Oh yes.“ “Let me double check the schedule,“ Pulling out a small, leather organizer, she flipped it open, flipped through the pages until she arrived at tomorrow’s date. “Yep, here you are. Billy Kim, ten AM sharp.“ “Excellent! Though, I did want to call to ask about something else.“ “Oh?“ “I… uh… I got something new I want to try out. One of my boyfriends gave me this neoprene sleepsack, and I was wondering if we could fit that in.“ Quinn grinned. “Of course we can. If you have a fantasy, we can make it come true, though it will cost a little extra.“ “Oh, that won’t be an issue!“ ‘Thank goodness,’ Quinn thought. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then!“ “I’m looking forward to it!“ Hanging up, Quinn tried to hold back the small squeal of joy that wanted to tear itself free. If the stars aligned, and fate smiled on her for once, then Mr. Kim’s last minute addition might be the lucky sign she needed. Getting up, Quinn quickly checked on her client inside the casket. Lifting up the lid wasn’t an issue, as a tiny infared camera fed a signal to a portable television, allowing her to peer inside. Ms. Cunningham, her mummified client, was resting comfortably, her bandaged chest slowly moving up and down. Satisfied that her charge was safe and comfortable, Quinn went to the computer and brought up the spreadsheet detailing all her monthly expenses. Typing in the amount from this session, she wasn’t pleased with the result; though Ms. Cunningham paid handsomely, and gave generous tips, her session made only a small dent in the month’s expenses, Quinn was still about two hundred dollars in the red. ‘Close’ she thought. ‘But not quite enough’. She’d have to find a few ways to get enough money to cover the remaining balance, while she couldn’t fit another client into her schedule, she could offer Mr. Kim a few extra perks. His session alone would cover a hundred and fifty dollars, with the sleepsack adding another ten, but if she threw in a massage or two, along with a dip in the Jacuzzi, then perhaps that would finally put her in the black. But if he didn’t take it, then she doubted that the bill collectors would be eager at another extension. There was a loud thunder crack outside, the tenth one in the past hour. While the thunder, lightning, and torrential downfall had certainly made for great drama while playing out Ms. Cunningham’s fantasy of being captured and mummified by an evil female priest (a role Quinn had played with all the relish she could muster), having those strikes come so frequently and so loudly was starting to get on Quinn’s nerves. Checking the camera once more, she saw that Ms. Cunningham was lying still, unaffected by the storm outside Quinn’s small home. But just to play it safe, Quinn turned on a white noise generator, filling the interior of the casket with the sound. From Quinn’s own experiences, the sound would help soothe her client and help her enjoy the experience more, especially the sensation of being safely sealed away from the turbulence and the storm outside. With the role of evil priestess finished, Quinn stood and walked to the closet, where she took off the robes and put them away, getting back into her standard outfit: Black cat suit, black leather trench coat, and thick boots. In this guise, she would come to ‘rescue’ Ms. Cunningham in an hour or two, at which point her client, relieved at having been freed from an early grave, would give her rescuer all the passionate sex she could muster, followed by being whisked away to safety, and a night in a warm bed. With everything under control for the moment, Quinn headed to the television and switched it on, wanting to see if there were any reports about the storm. Hopefully it was an intense, but brief one, and would pass within a few hours, or at the latest, with the first rays of the sun. "” and scientists are still baffled at the onslaught of the storm, which, at this point, has started to spread across the planet, engulfing many countries in near hurricane force gales. There are currently no explanations for their cause, or why they are so intense.“ The screen shifted to a map of the United States, showing little cartoon clouds hovering over most of the country, including her area. To make things even worse, Quinn’s area was getting warnings about dangerous amounts of rainfall, rivers overflowing, and flooding in general throughout the rest of the week. ‘Oh, damn.’ If the weather reports were true, and the rivers were going to overflow, then she was screwed. The roads would be impassable, and Mr. Kim wouldn’t be able to make his appointment. It was a simple, chilling formula. If Mr. Kim didn’t make it, then that meant no money. And no money meant the bills wouldn’t be paid on time, which, in turn, would put Quinn’s entire livelihood in jeopardy. “Damn,“ she cursed. Of all the days for the weather to turn temperamental, it had to be tomorrow. Still at least Ms. Cunningham was here. If she was unable to leave due to the flooding, then perhaps Quinn could convince her to stay another day, perhaps have another session or two. Maybe, just maybe, Quinn could persuade her to enjoy the warm confines of the casket for another day. The woman was definitely a kinky one; the thought of spending an entire day mummified, with the occasional orgasm if she was good and submissive, could be enough to persuade her to stay. Quinn hoped that was the case, she couldn’t stand the thought of Cunningham leaving. Oh, she’d be happy with what she had gotten, and a happy customer was always a good thing, but her happiness wouldn’t pay the bills unless she wanted to play some more. With another crack, the rains came down even harder. ...

continues from part three Part 4: The Cranes What a strange and curious place the world had become. Coming up to the banks of the Nile, Targonamey looked at the city across the river. It was Luxor, he was sure of it, for it had the feel of the city he had known long ago. Yet, the passage of time had rendered it larger then what he remembered. The builds were different, and all manner of metal and steel devices were clamped to the top of buildings and houses. What are those strange things? Naked, he calmly waded into the Nile, swam across, and emerged on the other side. As the dawn had yet to come, it was still dark, and nobody saw him as he made his way through the streets and alleys into the city. While he sought food, drink, and clothing, Targonamey was more curious at seeing the new devices and contraptions around him. Wandering into the streets, he found them to be mostly deserted, the city’s occupants asleep inside their homes. But there were a few cars driving around. It wasn’t long before heads began to turn in Targonamey’s direction, their occupants surprised at his nudity. Targonamey ignored them, instead focusing on the cars, wanting to know how they worked. A vehicle that moved faster then a chariot, with no horses, and could carry several people at once was an astonishing contraption. Even more curious was the vehicle that came up to him, with flashing lights on top of it. Puzzled, Targonamey walked over, looking at them. These were not candles, or the reflection of mirrors, but actual lights that suddenly appeared. Fascinating! Two men got out of the car and started talking quickly at him. “I require clothing and food,“ Targonamey said. The two didn’t seem to understand him. They were looking at each other, as if unable to decipher what he had said. “Did you not hear me?“ Targonamey asked. “I require food and clothing.“ Shrugging their shoulders, the two came towards Targonamey. Their body language suggested that they weren’t all friendly. But Targonamey wasn’t worried; he could fix that. A quick wave of his hands, and a muttering of an ancient spell, and the two men stopped. Their faces became blank, and slightly blissful. It was an old trick he was fond of: Dominating the wills of lesser individuals, bending them to his will. “You will take me to your headquarters,“ he said. The two men got back in the vehicle, opening the back. Targonamey got in, and then they were off. As fascinating as it had been to look the vehicle over, to ride inside it was even more exciting. The seats were amazingly comfortable, and there were these strange belts that one apparently wore across the waist. The ride came to an end, and they stopped outside a huge building, brightly lit, and with the words, “Police Department" written across the front. Targonamey didn’t understand them, but he guessed that this was the headquarters of local law enforcement. As he was let out and led inside, Targonamey told his guides to give him clothes. Even though they couldn’t understand Targonamey’s words, they still led him through the building, the three ignoring the curious stares of other officers. They reached a dressing room, where Targonamey went through several lockers and boxes, going through the strange styles of clothing inside. There wasn’t much to pick from, and eventually he had to satisfy himself with a strange pair of pants, and a shirt. Clumsy, and nowhere near fitting a great man such as himself, but they would do for now. Dressed, he needed food, but sensed that this wasn’t the place for it. “You will remain here, and forget everything that just happened,“ he told the officers. When that was done, he turned and made his way out, ignoring those who watched him go. They were of no consequence to him, at least for now. Now back out on the streets once again, Targonamey made his way through them, seeking food. Most buildings were closed at this late hour, but he smelled the aroma of fresh bread coming from close by. Following his nose, he found the establishment, was pleased to see that it was stocked full of food. After casting a charm to control the owner, Targonamey took some of the bread and gorged himself on it, delighted at the taste of food, at being able enjoy it after so many centuries. It was a treat he had missed. He could have stayed and eaten the food, to fill himself and sample all the dishes he didn’t recognize or understand, but there were more important things to do. Food could wait, and he had to set his priorities. Now, there were only two things he needed. Leaving the building, he went out into the street, and cast several charms, feeling, focusing his powers out into the night. He could sense the presence of magical objects nearby, and walked in their direction. His walk led him to a large museum, which had been fashioned to resemble a temple from ages past. Having seen many of those temples himself, Targonamey was amused at this reproduction. While nowhere near as vibrant or colorful as he remembered, it was still charming, like a child trying to do an intimidation of a parent’s painting. Going to the gates, he found the building to be closed. But that was no matter for him. Another charm, and the gates were unlocked. But as he entered, Targonamey heard an annoying squealing sound that was loud, and repeated itself endlessly. Unable to find its source, he was unable to use his magic to stop it, and thus had to continue on, trying to ignore it. Besides, there were more important matters at hand, he could sense the presence of the magical items. Going down two levels, he found them at last, in a section housing ancient artifacts and tokens of power and rank. They were all beautiful, and a few Targonamey even recognized, having held, but his attention was focused on a tall staff that was within a glass case. It was the most powerful object in the room, and even in the entire museum. Walking up, Targonamey punched through the glass, grabbing hold of the staff. It seemed to surge with energy as his fingers wrapped around it, as if an internal battery, long dormant, had suddenly sprung to life. Targonamey was pleased at this, while the staff wasn’t as powerful as he would have liked, it would serve its purpose, and allow him to cast his magic more efficiently. There was the sound of running in the levels above. Most likely the guards of this place, coming to stop him. Targonamey smiled. Perfect. They came into the chamber, carrying strange black things, all pointed at him. Targonamey didn’t know what they were, but deduced that they were weapons of some kind. As expected, the guards began yelling at him. Their words were gibberish to Targonamey, but the meaning was clear. They wanted him to drop the staff and surrender. It was an easy matter to cast his charms, and send the weapons flying across the room. The men were stunned, obviously not used to seeing magic. Drawing their knives, they charged, but a sonic blast from the staff sent them slamming into the walls and display cases, knocking most of them out cold. One remained conscious, and Targonamey went to him, kneeling and placing his hand on the man’s skull, chanting more words. He would be at a bigger advantage if he learned the language of the people, so as to better order them around. ...

continues from part four Part 5: Explanations “Ma’am?” Blinking her eyes, Quinn awoke, looked around. She was back inside her house; she could hear the rain pouring outside, mixing with the crackle of a nice, cheery fire that burned in the fireplace, warming the house. But there were other sounds, now, of feet moving, and hushed talking. “Ma’am, are you all right?” Jolting up, Quinn saw that her house was filled with several strangers, some dressed in Egyptian attire, others dressed in thick rubber clothing like her own. Only one man appeared to be normal, and it was a relief to see him. But he wasn’t the one who had woken her. Looking over, Quinn saw that it was the spider man who had spoken. Seeing it a second time was enough to make her shriek and fall over, trying to get away. “Please, do not be afraid,” the spider man said, bringing his hands up. “I mean you no harm, and neither do the others.” “Who-no, what are you?!” Quinn demanded. “My name is Prince Theodore of the Drider species.” “Drider?” “Yes, that is what my kind is called. And before you ask, we do not eat human beings. That is against our laws and our culture.” Quinn looked at the prince, trying to decipher if he was telling the truth, or feeding her a lie. He seemed truthful, and his body language (or at least, what she could read of it) showed that he was being sincere. “All right, Mr. Theodore, but what in heaven’s name are you doing in my house? And for that matter, what are all of you doing here?” “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” the man before her said. “And who are you?” Quinn asked. “My name is Gromet; I’m a website manager.” “What kind of website?” Gromet hesitated for a moment, seemingly embarrassed. “Never mind. Now will you all please tell me what you’re doing here?” “We’re not sure,” Theodore said. “We’ve been discussing it while you were unconscious, and can’t come up with a solution. We were hoping you’d be able to enlighten us.” “Me?” Quinn shook her head. “I don’t have a clue about what’s going on, other then several people, a half human half spider thing, and a killer whale have popped out of the sky into my front yard. How am I supposed to explain that?!” “Her name is Jude,” a woman said. She was wearing a wetsuit, and looked as out of place as everyone else. “What?” “Jude. The killer whale. That’s her name.” “And you are?” “Nia, her trainer. We were practicing a new routine at the park when there was this bright flash, and the two of us were sucked into it, and landed in that lake.” Her story seemed as rational as any Quinn had heard so far. Turning, she looked at a man and a woman lying on her sofa, both tightly bandaged and wrapped like Egyptian mummies, though the man’s arms, while wrapped, were loose and able to move around, while the woman’s legs were the same. “Okay, what about those two? Why are they wrapped up like that? Did any of you do this?” “No, they didn’t,” the man said, shifting slightly. “And who are you?” “My name is Robert.” “Okay Robert, what are you doing wrapped up like that?” Robert looked down at his bandages. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” “There’s a giant spid-drider in my room. Try me.” Robert thought, trying to figure out how best to tell his story. “Well, I was kidnapped by the Egyptian god of the dead, wrapped up like this, and condemned to be his sex slave for eternity, much like poor Aalyia here.” The woman looked up at Quinn. Unlike Robert, her mouth was bandaged over, silencing her. “Woah, woah, hang on,” Quinn said. “Egyptian god of the dead? You’re not talking about Anubis, are you?” “The very same.” “Oh come on! Anubis is a myth, something made up. He’s as real as Thor, Odin, and all the other pagan gods throughout the centuries.” “I know it’s hard to believe,” Robert said. “I didn’t either, at first, but he’s real. I can prove it.” He looked around. “Xesex?” There was a crashing noise in one of the nearby rooms. Then, a tall, snake like being pulled itself through one of the doorways, and into the living room. “Yes Robert?” Then, upon seeing Quinn, it said, “Ah, greetings human! I do apologize for all this, but you see, we were suddenly dropped here, my friends and I, and don’t know where we are.” Quinn said nothing, staring at him. “All you all right?” “Just stunned, I believe,” Theodore said. “It appears that humans of this area, are not familiar with encountering creatures of our type.” “I am a god, actually. Not a creature.” “No way,” Quinn said, getting her voice back. “Gods aren’t real. And even then, I’ve never heard of you.” “I am not surprised,” Xesex said, shaking his head. “The belief system I belonged to died out long ago. But I can prove my divinity to you; it would be quite easy.” Quinn hesitated, unsure of what she had gotten herself into. “Well, okay, but as long as it’s not permanent or evil or mischievous.” ...

continues from part five Part 6: The First Strike “So, where do we go first?” Quinn asked Xesex as they all walked outside. “You got any ideas?” “The source of the magic is not far from here,” he said. “It is within ten miles. Do you have transportation we can utilize?” “Yeah,” Quinn said, heading towards her garage. “Bought it years ago; never thought I’d use it to help save the world.” Going over, she opened the door, revealing a large RV inside, easily large enough to carry all of them. “Hmm,” Xesex said, looking the craft over. “Primitive, but effective.” Rapping on the walls, he doubted that it was very strong, but at the moment, it was everything they had, so they would have to make the most of it. “We must move out immediately.” “Well then, get on!” Quinn said, heading for the driver’s seat. As the others got on board, Nia stopped. “I can’t leave Jude,” she said. “The lake empties into a river,” Quinn told her as she pulled out the chocks from underneath the wheels. “She’d be able to follow us as we drive along.” Then, darting into the RV, she pulled out a map. “Xesex, can you pinpoint the location of the magic?” His large hands taking the small object, Xesex looked it over, trying to triangulate it. “I am not sure,” he said. “But it should be here.” He tapped a large city on the map. “Ah, you’re in luck,” Quinn told Nia. “The river leads to a harbor next to the city. Your whale can go as far as that.” Nia nodded. “I’ll meet you all there.” “Wait, you’re not coming up with us?” “I’ll ride Jude,” Nia said. “She’s used to it.” Quinn thought, nodded. “All right.” “If you will be riding your whale,” Xesex said, “then I recommend that our group split up. For if I can sense whatever god has entered this realm, he or she will sense me too, and will possibly attempt to attack me en route to the city, regardless of who is with me. If we split our forces, we shall reduce the risk of possible casualties.” Nia thought for a moment. “Jude is used to carrying several people at once,” she said. “Some of you can ride with us.” “I’ll go,” Gromet said. “Always was interested in riding a whale.” From his riding spot on Aalyia’s back, Robert said, “We’ll go as well.” “I’d prefer to ride in the RV,” Vikki said. “That is, Quinn, if you don’t mind.” “Not at all.” “I doubt I shall be able to ride your whale companion,” Prince Theodore said. “So I shall ride within this RV as well.” “Then it is settled,” Xesex said. “Everyone, to your places. We shall meet again at the harbor outside the city.” As Nia, Gromet, Robert, and Aalyia headed down towards the lake, Quinn, Prince Theodore, Xesex, and Vikki squeezed into the RV. It was easy enough for Vikki to get into the passenger seat, but Xesex and Theodore, being larger than humans, had a more difficult time, and almost tore the doors off while getting inside, and even then, it was a very tight fit as they wedged themselves among the appliances. “All right everyone, hang on,” Quinn said, turning the RV on, and sending the giant vehicle onto the road. At the lake, Nia knelt next to the water. She didn’t have to wait long, for Jude quickly swam to the lakeside and partially beached herself. Though curious to see her, Gromet couldn’t help but take a step backwards at seeing just how big she really was. Robert and Aalyia did the same, for Jude was the largest killer whale any of them had ever seen, easily at least thirty feet long, and built of solid muscle. Closing her eyes, Nia put her hand on Judge’s snout, and waited. “Jude understands our situation,” she said after a moment. “She’s willing to carry us to the city.” Gromet tilted his head. “You can talk to whales?” “Only her,” Nia explained. “We share a telepathic bond that no one else has.” “I never heard of whales being telepathic,” Robert said. Even Aalyia, unable to speak, seemed puzzled by the idea. “Then telepathy isn’t common in your world?” Nia asked. “Nope,” Robert said. “No,” Gromet said. “Well, whatever. Now, everyone in.” Robert was confused. “In?” “Yes, in. As in, inside Jude.” None of her companions moved. “You can’t be serious,” Robert said. “Yes, I am,” Nia said. “Jude can swim much faster without anyone riding on her. Plus, if all of us are in her, she can swim under the surface, and go even faster. Still, none of them moved. Rolling her eyes at seeing how far ahead the RV was, and how they were stuck here, Nia said, “Look, I know this sounds strange to you, but Jude’s used to doing this sort of thing. She can swallow people whole, and then regurgitate them up later without digesting them. Same for stuffing people into her womb. We’ve done it for years, with both me, and many other people.” “You stuffed people up her ass?” Robert said. Thunder cracked overhead. “Look, there’s no time!” Nia said. “Now let’s get in there!” As if wanting to encourage the others, Jude opened her mouth as wide as it would go, waiting. Gromet looked at the whale, then to Robert and Aalyia. Shaking his head, he walked over. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered. Getting down, he slid into Jude’s mouth, face first. Jude swallowed slightly, pulling him in. Within seconds, his feet vanished from sight. With Gromet gone, Jude opened again, stretching to accommodate Robert and Aalyia. Those two looked at each other, unsure. But then again, after encountering Anubis in the graveyard of abandoned gods, this wasn’t any stranger. Kneeling, Aalyia waited while Robert reached out and pulled himself into Jude’s mouth. There, she swallowed him gently, sucking him into her throat, until his bandaged legs were gone. And then Aalyai got in, wiggling as Jude’s muscles worked, and pulled her in. With the three now safe inside her stomach, Jude rolled over, exposing her tummy. Nia waded in, walking towards Jude’s slit. “I swear, some people just don’t know when to take the leap,” she muttered, putting her feet inside Jude. Once she had been swallowed up to her leg, Nia waited as Jude’s powerful muscles took control, and gently pulled her in, until her head, and then her hair, were sucked in, and vanished from sight. Her slit clenching into a watertight seal, Jude rolled back onto her tummy, then wiggled back into the water. From there, she turned and followed the water out of the lake, and into the river. Taking a deep breath, making sure to get extra air for her passengers, Jude submerged, her powerful tail muscles propelling her through the dark water. ...

continues from part six Part 7: Into the Depths “So, how exactly DO we get inside that?” Gromet asked. “Doesn’t look like we can just go up and ring the doorbell.” “Storming the fortress would not be a wise move either,” Theodore said. “It’s too well defended. What do you think, Xesex?” The god thought. “The tower is protected by very powerful magical energy. A direct assault would be most unwise, and I can sense unseen eyes watching the walls. If we were to try and sneak in, we would be spotted immediately.” “Maybe we can sneak in,” Quinn said, getting an idea. “Look.” At the drawbridge leading into the tower, a steady stream of wrappers were walking in, carrying captured, mummified people. “Perhaps we can disguise ourselves as one of them,” Quinn said. “Then we get in line, and stroll right in. I don’t think those thugs have any brainpower, so they won’t notice us.” Xesex thought for a moment, then nodded. “A good idea. Who wants to be a volunteer?” Quinn stepped forward. “Heck, I thought of it, it might as well be me.” Xesex pointed his finger towards her, focused. Bandages shot forth and wove themselves around her body, squeezing and compressing it tightly. In less then ten seconds, Quinn’s body was completely wrapped, save her head. Surprised, she looked her bandaged limbs over, squeezing and flexing them. The bandages were very tight (perhaps a bit too tight around her crotch and breasts, she noticed), and restricted her movement somewhat, but she would be able to walk, and use her arms. “Well, I’d say it’ll work,” Vikki said. Working quickly, Xesex repeated the procedure on Vikki, Gromet, and Nia, turning them into tightly wrapped, walking mummies. It was unnecessary to wrap Robert and Aalyia, but when all was said and done, the six of them were a perfect match for the mindless guards walking into the tower. “Well, this is new,” Gromet said, running his bandaged fingers over his wrappings. “Never been wrapped before?” Nia asked. “Can’t say that I have.” “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly do you do in your world?” Gromet paused. “Well, I deal in the literary field.” “Oh, so an agent?” Gromet thought, nodded. “Err, something like that, yes.” “Hurry up you two,” Quinn said. “Can’t waste any more time.” The line of walking thugs was coming to an end. They’d have to move fast if they wanted to get in line and into the tower. “Xesex? What about you and Theodore?” “We shall have to infiltrate the tower on our own,” Xesex said. “For obvious reasons, if we tried to enter like the rest of you, we would be spotted immediately. But do not fear. I will get us inside safe and sound.” With a wave of his hand, he sent out more bandages, began to tightly wrap the heads of everyone present. “Wait!” Quinn said. “What do we do once we’re inside?” Xesex focused his hands, and several small, glowing green balls of energy appeared, before zipping over to each individual, attaching themselves, and merging with the bandages. “There will be someone controlling all this,” Xesex said. “Most likely that Targonamey man. If he’s inside, find him, and do what you can to disrupt his operations. The energy I have just given you all may be used like a bomb, but you can only use it once. Remember: when used properly, stealth is more effective then force.” Then the last wrappings went forth, and covered everyone’s head, save their eyes. For Quinn, it was a familiar sensation, having her head wrapped and tightly compressed. But the effect of being wrapped like this was unsettling to the others, who now looked, and acted extremely nervous. She would need to act quickly to move everyone along. “Come on, everyone,” she said. “Follow me.” As Xesex and Theodore slipped away into the darkness of the alley, Quinn headed towards its exit. Vikki, apparently used to being bandaged, responded immediately, helping the others along, guiding them with a friendly hand. Grateful for the help, Quinn stopped, peered out at the mummy guards walked along, carrying their squirming, wrapped prisoners. When the last one walked by, Quinn took a deep breath, and dashed out As she had hoped, none of the wrappers looked back when she got in behind them. Vikki, Gromet, Nia, and Aalyia dashed out, though Aalyia was slower, due to carrying Robert on her back. But they got into line, and followed the wrappers, trying to stay evenly spaced, so as to attract as little attention as possible. Reaching the drawbridge, they crossed over. When they entered into the tower itself, they followed the wrappers as they went through numerous tunnels of chiseled stone, eventually reaching a chamber resembling an ancient Egyptian temple. Here, the sense of being watched diminished considerably, suggesting that it was safe to move around without fear of being seen. As the last of the wrappers turned the corner, Quinn motioned for everyone else to hide next to the wall, which they did so. Sneaking to the edge, she peered around. They were in a large throne room of some kind. At the end was a large, royal throne, and upon it sat Targonamey, with two tall cranes perched beside him like silent guards. Quinn couldn’t be sure, but she got the feeling they would be as effective as any guard when it came to fighting. Targonamey himself was watching as the wrappers walked past, each momentarily stopping to display their captives for his inspection, a process that consisted of him running his fingers over their wrappings to ensure tightness and consistency, and then a nod. With that, the wrappers then took their captives through another door, and out of sight. “What’s happening?” Gromet whispered. “Shush,” Quinn said, holding up a hand. Someone, or something, was coming out of another, larger door, and she wanted to see who it was. She got the shock of her life upon seeing a massive, canine-like being with a thick, muscular human body, but with the head of a jackal. Even without knowing who it was, Quinn recognized him from all the pictures she had seen throughout her life. Holy shit, he’s real?! “So, Anubis,” Targonamey said, standing. “How much time do we require?” “A few hours,” the Egyptian god of the underworld said. “The other towers report that they are ready. We’re the last one. But I must caution you, we do not have much time left if this is to succeed.” “Yes, I know,” Targonamey said. “But there are still many who can be saved. We will loose many, but I will not stand by and quit while there are still many we can acquire.” So that was it, this Targonamey character was gathering up all the individuals on the planet and putting them in these towers. But why? Obviously, there was something he was planning to do, but Quinn didn’t have the faintest idea. All they could do was try to stop him, as the event would be very unpleasant, no matter what it was. Anubis started to walk away, then stopped. He turned, and for a moment Quinn feared they had been spotted. But the god’s gaze went towards the ceiling, as if he could see beyond it. “We are not alone,” he said. “One of my kind is here.” A frown betrayed Targonamey’s calm demeanor. “What? You mean another god is here?” Anubis cracked his knuckles as he headed for the door. “I will deal with him. But be warned, it is likely that he didn’t come alone.” With that, the god was gone, leaving a now worried Targonamey to himself. Quinn turned back to the others. If Anubis could sense Xesex’s presence, then they needed to move fast. “All right, we need to get going,” she said. Reaching down to the bandages enveloping her chest, she withdrew the glowing energy bomb Xesex had given her. “Let’s split up. Find a place that looks good, then set your bomb. After that, we then get the hell out of here.” “But how the heck do we make these things blow?” Nia asked, looking over her bomb. “A good question,” Robert said. “I don’t know!” Quinn said, impatient. “I’m just making this up as I go! Now let’s go!” The others split up, heading down various corridors and hallways, until Quinn was left by herself. She looked down to her bomb, pondering exactly how to detonate it, and realizing that she didn’t know what to do about the mummified people stored in the tower, but she trusted that Xesex had thought ahead to that, and ensured that they would stop Targonamey, but not harm the people he had taken. Okay, all we have to do is go through the depths of a huge, labyrinthine tower and try to blow it up without killing anybody, Quinn thought. Easy enough. She started towards a nearby stairwell when she heard squawking from nearby. Turning, Quinn saw one of Targonamey’s cranes flying nearby, looking straight at her. “Uh oh,” she whispered. The crane shrieked, and charged at her. Quinn turned and ran up the stairs, the crane in close pursuit, with it’s companion now following after her. Reaching the top of the stairs, Quinn headed through a thin tunnel that was packed with dozens of mummies who were entombed within the walls, all squirming and struggling. A few were half buried in the walls, their legs kicking, which made it difficult to get past them, the cranes were knocked to the ground, giving Quinn more time, and she silently vowed that if she got out of this, she’d come back and personally free up all those trapped in this room. Exiting the hallway, she emerged into a large rotunda that composed the center of the tower, stretching up high to an unseen ceiling. Here there were practically no walls, only mummies that had been lashed together and tied to the walls, or dangled from chains, still struggling and squirming within their wrappings until there was nothing around Quinn but white, struggling forms. And this was only one level, for the higher up she looked, the more and more mummies she saw. This entire tower must be packed with them, she thought. Thousands of captured people, all wrapped up and bandaged, then entombed within the walls of this tower for some unknown purpose. The energy bomb pulsed in her hands, apparently signaling that this was the place to drop it. But even then, Quinn hesitated. Would it really be so right to drop a bomb among all these mummified people, who could possibly be hurt by the resulting blast? The screeching of unseen cranes grew louder. There was no time to second guess. All Quinn could hope was that Xesex had thought this through. Taking the bomb, she tossed it down the rotunda, until it vanished from sight far below. Relieved, Quinn was glad the bandages around her head were in place to soak up the sweat. Now all she had to do was hide until the heat died down, then get the heck out of this tower, find the others, and get as far away as possible. But it was not meant to be. The cranes shot out of the hallway, screeching upon seeing their prey. Oh shit! ...

continues from part seven Part 8: Desperate Escape Had this been any other time, Quinn would have been in heaven…. being fully mummified was a rare delight; being mummified and then locked into a rubber lined coffin was unheard of. Having someone else in the coffin with her was too good to be true. And yet, here she was, fully absorbed into one of her greatest fantasies. But this wasn’t playful or wondrous. It wasn’t a dream. This was a nightmare. Deep within her wrappings, Quinn could see or hear nothing; just darkness and an awful, awful silence that pressed down on her, reminding her that this was all she would know for the rest of her life, and there was nothing she could do about it. She could struggle all she wanted, but the bandages would keep her body tightly restrained. They were her jailers and guards, ensuring that she would serve out her sentence, and they could not be bargained with, nor would they listen to her pleas of mercy. They would be her constant companions for the rest of her life. Quinn cried, or tried to. The outside world she had known and loved was gone forever. It still existed, but she would never enjoy it again, it would move on, with people going about their lives, but she was locked away in this private, personal prison. Worse still, was knowing that she would eventually be forgotten. Others would forget about her, but she would still live in the darkness, serving her sentence. She cried again, and despite all the bandages stuffed into her mouth, a faint sob managed to escape, even though nobody would ever hear it. But apparently, someone did, for her companion shifted. Having only been constructed to hold one prisoner, the coffin made it hard for either to move. But move the second prisoner did, wrapping her arms around Quinn’s mummified body, and squeezing her as best she could, trying to give Quinn a comforting hug, reassuring her that even when locked up, at least she wouldn’t be alone. But there seemed to be something else. Even through all her wrappings, Quinn could sense that her cellmate was moving, apparently trying to do something. Exactly what, she wasn’t sure. She wanted to know what it was, but with her eyes, ears, and mouth sealed, there was nothing she could do. So, helpless, she lay back, and tried to figure out how she was going to get through all this without going insane. ...

continues from part eight Part 9: The Last Flight “Are you serious?!” Gromet yelled, glancing behind him, only to pick up speed as he saw the bandages enveloping the street behind them. Already the tower itself had been wrapped up, and within a few minutes, so would the entire city around it. If they weren’t fast enough, their group would join it as well. Vikki and Gromet ran, feet pounding the sidewalk as they fought to outrun the bandages giving chase. Yet, no matter how fast they went, the bandages were faster, and they closed the gap with each footstep, getting dangerously close to Quinn and the others. “Over there!” Vikki shouted, running toward an abandoned jeep. Gromet changed course and followed. Reaching the jeep, Vikki leapt into the driver’s seat, dumping Quinn in the back. “Hey!” Quinn shouted as she was banged about on the seat and support beams. “Sorry,” Vikki said, searching for the keys. Finding a spare set, she rammed them into the ignition and turned, causing the engine to turn over. Slamming the accelerator to the floor, Vikki sent the jeep tearing down the street, Gromet just barely managing to hold on. “Where are we going?!” he shouted. “Anywhere but here!” Vikki shouted, swerving to avoid several abandoned cars in the road before them. “You got any ideas?” “The airport!” Quinn said, struggling to wiggle herself off the floor. “We can go faster in the air than we can here!” Vikki spun the wheel, sending them towards the freeway. “Works for me.” The jeep shot up the onramp and onto the freeway, managing to gain some speed. Behind them all, the city was completely wrapped up as the bandages spread further, spreading out into the countryside, and even into the sea. But nobody was looking back; all eyes were focused on the road ahead, and the airport in the distance. “You have a plane?” Vikki asked. “No,” Quinn admitted. “Then what the heck are you going to do?” Gromet asked. “Hijack a jetliner?” “It’s worth a shot.” “But if we fail, we’ll be mummified like everything else!” “We have to try!” Quinn said. “We don’t have a choice!” Above, the sky rumbled, and through the thunder, Quinn thought she could hear the universe itself. It was a dreadful sound of tearing and gears being torn apart. “Keep going!” she yelled at Vikki. Shifting gears, Vikki went even faster. “And can someone get me out of this damn thing?!” Quinn said, both anger and fear giving her the strength to fight against her sleepsack. Behind them, the bandages surged down the freeway like a tidal wave, eager to overtake and engulf them all. But by some miracle, Vikki managed to maneuver the jeep past the stalled and abandoned vehicles in their path. Once, she glanced the side of a truck, nearly overturning them, but she managed to spin them around, and regain control, speeding away as the truck was enveloped and wrapped up. They reached the offramp and shot down, crashing through the three fences blocking the public from the runways, and shot across. There were numerous planes on the runways, ranging from small, one-person planes, to massive 747s. “Which one?” Vikki shouted. “That one!” Quinn said, pointing her head towards a corporate jet. It was medium sized, the personal luxury transport for a CEO long since mummified, and stood on the tarmac, just waiting for someone to take command. And by sheer luck, the doors leading inside were open. Vikki shot towards the jet, then slammed on the brakes as they got close, bringing them to a stop just outside the ramp. Not bothering to turn off the engine, she leapt out and grabbed Quinn, then ran to the jet, Gromet in tow. Behind them, the bandages reached the offramp, and started towards the terminal. Once Gromet had gotten into the jet, he slammed a button, bringing up the boarding ramp. “Please tell me one of you knows how to fly a jet!” he said. “No,” Vikki said, putting a still sacked Quinn into one of the luxurious seats, before running to the cockpit. “Still, cant be too difficult, right? Just start the engines, go really fast, and take off.” Plopping down in the pilot’s seat, she started flicking switches, hoping that one of them would get them going. Already, the terminal was starting to be wrapped, and though it’s larger mass would take the bandages longer to envelop, it wouldn’t be long before the runways and planes would start being claimed too. Vikki didn’t know if the plane would protect them from being wrapped, but she had no desire to find out. “Hurry!” Gromet said, flicking switches of his own. “I’m trying!” Slamming her fist on one of the buttons, the engines roared to life, and the jet jerked as it started to move across the runway. “Got it!” Vikki said, pulling the seat’s harness across herself. “Go strap Quinn in!” As Vikki steered the jet towards the longest runway, Gromet reached Quinn’s seat, and grabbed the seat belts, buckling her down so that she couldn’t move. In any other situation, being in bondage while on an airplane would have been an erotic thrill, but here, it only reinforced Quinn’s helplessness. All she could do was stare out the window, and pray that the others could get the jet up in time. “All right, hang on!” Vikki shouted as she spun the steering wheel. “Here we go!” Grabbing the accelerator, she pushed it to maximum speed. With a thunderous roar, the engines shoved the plane down the runway, the speedometer steadily increasing as they gained speed. Yet, the bandages that now swarmed across the planes and runways seemed to sense that the plane was taking off, for they increased speed as well, aiming to catch the jet. “Go faster!” Quinn shouted, peering out the window. “Faster, faster, faster!” Vikki kept a firm hand on the steering wheel, trying to get them to flying speed. “Come on!” Gromet said, struggling into the copilot’s seat. “Get us up!” “We’re not going fast enough!” Gromet grabbed the wheel. “The fuck we are!” With a yank, he sent the jet into the air. As Vikki had feared, their speed wasn’t enough. But somehow, they managed to stay airborne. The engines struggled, but their speed continued to increase, until they finally managed to speed away from the airport, leaving it behind to be mummified, along with the buildings, the city, and the nearby forests. For a moment, all was still inside the cockpit. The adrenaline surging through everyone’s systems kept them on edge, too tense to relax at their escape. It was Quinn who broke the silence. “Well, now that we’re all airborne and safe,” she said. “Can someone finally get me out of this?!” Glad for the distraction, Vikki managed to switch on the autopilot, went into the back, and undid the straps and zippers on the sleepsack, finally releasing Quinn, who quickly undid the seatbelts, and emerged from the neoprene, tossing the thing towards the back of the jet in disgust. “Finally!” She said. “If I never see one of those things again, it’ll be too soon.” “We’ve got problems!” Gromet called from the cockpit. Quinn went up, Vikki behind her. “What?” Gromet pointed out the windows. They all looked out to the ground far below. They had risen fast enough to get a vantage point that allowed them to see for hundreds of miles, and right before their eyes, the ground was being covered in white, as mile after mile was covered over and sealed within the wrappings Targonamey had unleashed. No matter the terrain, the bandages continued on, mummifying everything in it’s path: buildings, trees, animals, roads, and even rivers. At it’s speed, it would be a matter of minutes before everything below them was covered up. “So what do we do now?” Gromet said. Quinn went to Vikki, pulled out the sealed scroll Xesex had given her. “This thing… do any of you recognize it?” Vikki and Gromet looked it over, shook their heads. ...

Based on an idea by Hypercat *** The clock was ticking. Even now, well after midnight, when nobody was around, the chief was anxious. Secret midnight rendezvous at abandoned prisons could have great repercussions if they were caught. “Where are they?” “On their way,” his assistant said. “Good. Doc?” The prison doctor opened his stainless steel case and pulled out a syringe, depressing the plunger ever so slightly. A small squirt of green liquid squirted onto the floor. “The formula is ready.” “Good.” “Relax chief. If this goes according to plan, we’ll all be very rich. Nobody’s going to be coming around here. After all, you have the keys to this place, right?” “I do doc. But if this gets out, we’re all going to be in a mess of trouble.” There was a distant clang as a giant pair of gates opened, followed by footsteps. But the chief wasn’t nervous. This was expected. The door to the underground cells was opened, one of his deputies entering. “Sir, they’re here.” “Bring ’em in.” Two push carts were wheeled into the room. A squirming form was strapped to each one. The chief eyed the two women, oogling their forms, Sealed head to toe in thick, body hugging latex sheathes, they were squirming for all they were worth, fighting against their bonds. Seeing them strapped down so helplessly, he found his desire and arousal rising. He would have loved to take them and have his way, but knew that this was not the time. This meeting was strictly business, not pleasure. He walked over, inspecting them more closely, rubbing his hands over their coated bodies. Imprisoned beneath an inch of latex, they squirmed under his touch with delightful intensity, trying to get away. The belts securing them to the hand trucks ensured they weren’t going anywhere. “Looks like everything’s in order,” he said. “I gotta tell ya doc, this stuff is amazing.” He pinched the latex, tried to grab it, but the material remained firm and unyielding. “They’ve got anything on underneath this?” “No,” the doctor said, reviewing some charts. “They’re as naked as the day they were born.” The chief smiled. “All right, let’s get this underway,” he stepped aside. “Doc?” The doctor walked over, the syringe in hand. “Tell me again, what does this stuff do?” the other guard asked. “This is an experimental serum our good chief recovered in a drug raid,” the doctor said. “Code named Formula 54. Essentially a libido drug, it is supposed to skyrocket the sex drive, so much so that a human will want to have sex with anyone or anything around them. These two will be our first test subjects.” “Why the secrecy?” “If we can perfect and sell it, we’d have so much money we’d be set for five lifetimes. Can you even imagine how much money the public would pay to get a drug that sends your sex drive through the roof?” The guard thought. “A pretty penny.” “Indeed.” The guard looked at how much they were squirming. “Looks to me like they had second thoughts doc.” “They only volunteered for the drug. I didn’t tell them about the latex,” the doctor said with a smile. “I wanted to test out my latest, unbreakable latex material. So far, that test has been working splendidly.” “Who are they, anyway?” “Antoinette and Bonnie, a pair of lovely interns. I’m sure that once they experience the joy of this drug, they’ll be more than happy to volunteer for any other experiments I may conceive.” Walking up to the first woman, the doctor pushed the needle into a small piece of exposed flesh and injected the liquid. Pulling the syringe out, he squirted some of the latex on, which then covered up the skin and merged seamlessly with the rest of the sheath. Going over to the second woman, he repeated the procedure. “So what now?” The doctor put the empty syringe into a sealed bag. “We wait. It will only be a few minutes.” The women went still, no longer attempting to escape. In fact, it seemed as if they were asleep, as they were perfectly still, the only sign of life coming from the slow rise and fall of their chests. Then the first one began to struggle, fighting against her straps. The second woman followed a few seconds later, and soon both were thrashing against their bindings, their muffled moaning and groaning audible even through the latex. “Fascinating,” the doctor said. “It’s working faster then I expected.” The women were screaming now, fighting against their belts as hard as they could manage, bucking and kicking, squirming as if in a mad frenzy. “How long is this going to last doc?” The chief asked. “I’m not sure. Could be a few minutes, or it could be a few hours.” The women were thrusting themselves into the straps, knocking the carts over. But after landing on the ground, they thrashed on the ground, pressing their groins into the cement, trying to stimulate themselves. “Fascinating!” the doctor said. “The dosage apparently is twice as potent as I imagined!” The chief walked over and undid the straps on the hand trucks, lifting one of the women to her feet. He could feel her struggling within her cocoon, fighting to turn and press herself onto him, to achieve physical union. Simply feeling her latex pressing itself up against him was intoxicating. “You said these ladies would try to have sex with anyone or anything?” “Yes.” “Then let’s see how they react to each other.” The second woman was unstrapped, and the two were pressed together. For a moment they went still, as if surprised to actually be touching each other. Then they began to writhe and struggle, pressing against each other, thrusting their groins, even though it was impossible to have their vaginas touch. That small fact however, wasn’t enough to stop them from trying. “Oh my,” the doctor said. “Two heterosexual women fighting to have sex with each other, I think this experiment was a resounding success.” As the doc scribbled down some notes, the chief’s radio crackled. “Yes?” “Chief, we got trouble!” A voice on the other end said. “The mayor thinks you’re up to something and he’s sending in a squad to check it out!” “Shit. Doc, get your stuff out of here! Now!” “Already on it.” His suitcase was latched shut. “I shall join you all later, after I’ve analyzed my data.” As he ran out, the guard looked at the two women. “What do we do with them? It’s going to take too long to get them out to the truck.” The chief looked around, spotted a small hole in the ground. “Here, the obuliete.” “The what?” “It’s a small coffin sized cell built for one person. Nobody will look for them there.” “But how are we going to fit both in?” The chief held up several straps and belts. “Tie them up.” The two quickly went to work, wrapping the belts around the two women, buckling them together, until they were nothing more then a single wiggling unit fighting to get even the slightest stimulation, the belts effortlessly holding them together. The trap door was opened. With the cell’s tiny size, it was difficult to shove the two in, but the chief and his guard managed, shoving them in feet first, until they were tightly nestled inside, pressing their mouths together in a futile attempt to kiss. The lid was closed, sealing the two inside. A lock was put in place, ensuring that nobody would be getting inside any time soon. “All right, let’s get out of here. We tell the mayor that we were investigating an attempted break in, capishe?” “Right chief.” “Good man.” The chief looked down at the trap door. “Lucky gals, wish I had someone that horny trying to kiss me.” “If we get that drug perfected, we will.” The two smiled, leaving. They did run into the group sent by the mayor, but their cover story worked fine. The chief planned to come back and get the two women the next day, only to discover that the building had been given an overnight demolition job, where it would be bulldozed to the ground, the basement sealed up, never to be accessed again. He never did find out if the mayor had somehow found out about their scheme, but if he did, the mayor was going to ensure that the group would never meet in the building again. Deep inside their tiny tomb, Antoinette and Bonnie squirmed and struggled, restrained and encased inside their latex cocoons, arms and legs immobilized, their mouths sealed, their horny genitals touching, yet kept separate from each other. Unaware of their impending entombment, they didn’t care. In their drug induced stupor, they didn’t have a care in the world as they lived out the rest of their short lives in total bliss.

Based on an idea by Hypercat *** The clock was ticking. Even now, well after midnight, when nobody was around, the chief was anxious. Secret midnight rendezvous at abandoned prisons could have great repercussions if they were caught. “Where are they?” “On their way,” his assistant said. “Good. Doc?” The prison doctor opened his stainless steel case and pulled out a syringe, depressing the plunger ever so slightly. A small squirt of green liquid squirted onto the floor. “The formula is ready.” “Good.” “Relax chief. If this goes according to plan, we’ll all be very rich. Nobody’s going to be coming around here. After all, you have the keys to this place, right?” “I do doc. But if this gets out, we’re all going to be in a mess of trouble.” There was a distant clang as a giant pair of gates opened, followed by footsteps. But the chief wasn’t nervous. This was expected. The door to the underground cells was opened, one of his deputies entering. “Sir, they’re here.” “Bring ’em in.” Two push carts were wheeled into the room. A squirming form was strapped to each one. The chief eyed the two women, oogling their forms, Sealed head to toe in thick, body hugging latex sheathes, they were squirming for all they were worth, fighting against their bonds. Seeing them strapped down so helplessly, he found his desire and arousal rising. He would have loved to take them and have his way, but knew that this was not the time. This meeting was strictly business, not pleasure. He walked over, inspecting them more closely, rubbing his hands over their coated bodies. Imprisoned beneath an inch of latex, they squirmed under his touch with delightful intensity, trying to get away. The belts securing them to the hand trucks ensured they weren’t going anywhere. “Looks like everything’s in order,” he said. “I gotta tell ya doc, this stuff is amazing.” He pinched the latex, tried to grab it, but the material remained firm and unyielding. “They’ve got anything on underneath this?” “No,” the doctor said, reviewing some charts. “They’re as naked as the day they were born.” The chief smiled. “All right, let’s get this underway,” he stepped aside. “Doc?” The doctor walked over, the syringe in hand. “Tell me again, what does this stuff do?” the other guard asked. “This is an experimental serum our good chief recovered in a drug raid,” the doctor said. “Code named Formula 54. Essentially a libido drug, it is supposed to skyrocket the sex drive, so much so that a human will want to have sex with anyone or anything around them. These two will be our first test subjects.” “Why the secrecy?” “If we can perfect and sell it, we’d have so much money we’d be set for five lifetimes. Can you even imagine how much money the public would pay to get a drug that sends your sex drive through the roof?” The guard thought. “A pretty penny.” “Indeed.” The guard looked at how much they were squirming. “Looks to me like they had second thoughts doc.” “They only volunteered for the drug. I didn’t tell them about the latex,” the doctor said with a smile. “I wanted to test out my latest, unbreakable latex material. So far, that test has been working splendidly.” “Who are they, anyway?” “Antoinette and Bonnie, a pair of lovely interns. I’m sure that once they experience the joy of this drug, they’ll be more than happy to volunteer for any other experiments I may conceive.” Walking up to the first woman, the doctor pushed the needle into a small piece of exposed flesh and injected the liquid. Pulling the syringe out, he squirted some of the latex on, which then covered up the skin and merged seamlessly with the rest of the sheath. Going over to the second woman, he repeated the procedure. “So what now?” The doctor put the empty syringe into a sealed bag. “We wait. It will only be a few minutes.” The women went still, no longer attempting to escape. In fact, it seemed as if they were asleep, as they were perfectly still, the only sign of life coming from the slow rise and fall of their chests. Then the first one began to struggle, fighting against her straps. The second woman followed a few seconds later, and soon both were thrashing against their bindings, their muffled moaning and groaning audible even through the latex. “Fascinating,” the doctor said. “It’s working faster then I expected.” The women were screaming now, fighting against their belts as hard as they could manage, bucking and kicking, squirming as if in a mad frenzy. “How long is this going to last doc?” The chief asked. “I’m not sure. Could be a few minutes, or it could be a few hours.” The women were thrusting themselves into the straps, knocking the carts over. But after landing on the ground, they thrashed on the ground, pressing their groins into the cement, trying to stimulate themselves. “Fascinating!” the doctor said. “The dosage apparently is twice as potent as I imagined!” The chief walked over and undid the straps on the hand trucks, lifting one of the women to her feet. He could feel her struggling within her cocoon, fighting to turn and press herself onto him, to achieve physical union. Simply feeling her latex pressing itself up against him was intoxicating. “You said these ladies would try to have sex with anyone or anything?” “Yes.” “Then let’s see how they react to each other.” The second woman was unstrapped, and the two were pressed together. For a moment they went still, as if surprised to actually be touching each other. Then they began to writhe and struggle, pressing against each other, thrusting their groins, even though it was impossible to have their vaginas touch. That small fact however, wasn’t enough to stop them from trying. “Oh my,” the doctor said. “Two heterosexual women fighting to have sex with each other, I think this experiment was a resounding success.” As the doc scribbled down some notes, the chief’s radio crackled. “Yes?” “Chief, we got trouble!” A voice on the other end said. “The mayor thinks you’re up to something and he’s sending in a squad to check it out!” “Shit. Doc, get your stuff out of here! Now!” “Already on it.” His suitcase was latched shut. “I shall join you all later, after I’ve analyzed my data.” As he ran out, the guard looked at the two women. “What do we do with them? It’s going to take too long to get them out to the truck.” The chief looked around, spotted a small hole in the ground. “Here, the obuliete.” “The what?” “It’s a small coffin sized cell built for one person. Nobody will look for them there.” “But how are we going to fit both in?” The chief held up several straps and belts. “Tie them up.” The two quickly went to work, wrapping the belts around the two women, buckling them together, until they were nothing more then a single wiggling unit fighting to get even the slightest stimulation, the belts effortlessly holding them together. The trap door was opened. With the cell’s tiny size, it was difficult to shove the two in, but the chief and his guard managed, shoving them in feet first, until they were tightly nestled inside, pressing their mouths together in a futile attempt to kiss. The lid was closed, sealing the two inside. A lock was put in place, ensuring that nobody would be getting inside any time soon. “All right, let’s get out of here. We tell the mayor that we were investigating an attempted break in, capishe?” “Right chief.” “Good man.” The chief looked down at the trap door. “Lucky gals, wish I had someone that horny trying to kiss me.” “If we get that drug perfected, we will.” The two smiled, leaving. They did run into the group sent by the mayor, but their cover story worked fine. The chief planned to come back and get the two women the next day, only to discover that the building had been given an overnight demolition job, where it would be bulldozed to the ground, the basement sealed up, never to be accessed again. He never did find out if the mayor had somehow found out about their scheme, but if he did, the mayor was going to ensure that the group would never meet in the building again. Deep inside their tiny tomb, Antoinette and Bonnie squirmed and struggled, restrained and encased inside their latex cocoons, arms and legs immobilized, their mouths sealed, their horny genitals touching, yet kept separate from each other. Unaware of their impending entombment, they didn’t care. In their drug induced stupor, they didn’t have a care in the world as they lived out the rest of their short lives in total bliss.

Once upon a time, there was a man named Kenny. Growing up, he had heard many stories about Heaven and Hell, and how the good and the bad would go to their respective places after death. But he had never given the matter much thought, never believing in an afterlife. So he went about his life, unconcerned about what was to come. However, when Kenny died, he was surprised to find himself in the afterlife. He was even more surprised when a divine guide came to show him both Heaven and Hell, so he could choose his final destination. They first went to Hell. It was a bare, boring place built of grey concrete, with nothing to stimulate the senses. And there were many there, all restrained in various ways, but most were mummified, wrapped up head to toe in wrappings that they would never escape from. And as far as Kenny could see, everyone was struggling and fighting with each other, trying to escape from their bondage. Those who still had some mobility were struggling to run, but tripped and fell on those who were mummified. In anger, they would then kick and attack the mummies, who were helpless and unable to fight back. Kenny was horrified. This looked like a terrible place, and he didn’t want to stay here. He begged his guide to take him to Heaven. Anything would be better then Hell. The two went to Heaven. But Kenny was horrified to see that it was exactly the same as Hell. It was built of grey concrete, and was filled with people restrained and mummified, a state in which they would remain forever. People were struggling and wiggling, trying to escape from their restraint, even though it was futile. “I don’t understand”, Kenny said to his guide. “Heaven looks just like Hell. How can that be?” “Take another look”, his guide told him. ...

Somewhere within the world’s oceans, there is an undiscovered island. To try and find this island is a futile endeavor, for it is too well hidden, and cannot be found, even with modern technology. Then again, some aren’t sure if this island is of the earth, or if it exists on a separate plain of existence. The island itself is not very big, for it is roughly the size of Hawaiian island, Maui. It is a pleasant land, where the air is constantly warm enough that one can walk around naked and feel comfortable. When it rains, there is always ample time to find shelter, but if you want to stay outside, that’s not a problem, for the rain is warm, and never cold. There are no animals on the island, no annoying insects or dangerous jungle creatures. The only sounds you’ll hear as you walk through the jungles and forests are the trees slowly moving back and forth, and the soft breeze blowing through them. What is perhaps most interesting is that the island is in a state of constant twilight. It is never quite fully night, yet never fully day. More often then not, you’ll be walking around, with the stars providing light. Yet, even in the darkness, there are no terrors to be found on this island, and nothing to fear. You cannot be hurt, nor can you be killed, even if you were to fall off a cliff. The island has not changed since when the first people came here, long ago. Yet, the island does not have a permanent population, for the residents come and go. How long they stay varies; some stay for a few weeks, others a few years, and some stay for decades. The main factor is the others you meet here. With no airports, boats, trains or roads, it seems impossible to find this place, and yet everyone does arrive, eventually. But they don’t arrive by their own conscious effort. All travel arrangements are apparently made and prepared, and when someone arrives, it is not via boat, plane, or even canoe. They arrive in the ground. When someone arrives at the Island of Rebirth, others go to meet them. They travel into the jungles and the forests, until they arrive at a gravesite. There, they take shovels, and dig into the earth, until they find a coffin. Taking that coffin, they remove it and open it up, finding a mummy inside, tightly wrapped. Removing the mummy, they remove the wrappings, until they at last reveal the newest arrival to the island. How old this individual will be varies. Some are young or in middle age, others old. But that does not matter, for within a few days, everyone will either age, or reverse in age, until they are all 35, in the peak of life and health. When the individual first awakens from their slumber, they are inevitably confused, wondering where they are. The last thing they remember is dying, either by accident, or of disease, or old age. But they are helped by the island’s friendly and peaceful inhabitants, who explain what is going on. They have arrived on the Island of Rebirth. They are given warm robes to wear, though at any time they can change into whatever clothing they’d like. What distinguishes the residents of this island is that they are all made of up of kinky people; individuals who enjoyed the sensual arts of sex and intimacy, who enjoyed playing and the arts of restraint. Therefore, virtually all the people wear all manner of kinky clothes; everything from rubber to neoprene, to latex and fishnet stockings. On this island, with its calming, peaceful atmosphere, there is an aura of acceptance that everyone shares, where you are free to be yourself. After the initial shock and surprise at being retrieved from their grave, the individual will sleep for a while, and then wake up to find themselves at age 35. From here, they can explore, and it isn’t long before they find other kinky individuals like themselves. So, naturally, they start to play. All manner of kinky games are played across the island; anything and everything is acceptable, for with the risk of injury or death gone, people are finally free to indulge in their deepest fantasies, and will find many willing partners who will gladly share the experience. If you walk into one part of the forest, you’ll find several people in straightjackets, dangling upside down from tree branches. Continue on to the large lake, and you’ll find others turned into inflatable pool toys, and floating around. If you were to dive under the surface, you’d find many at the bottom, their arms tied behind them, and their legs shackled to concrete blocks. And yet, all would be willing participants, knowing that they cannot be hurt or feel pain. Eventually, by desire or curiosity, you would join them in their play, trying all manner of situations out, seeking what excites you best. But as time goes on, and the playtimes continue, a pattern inevitably emerges: Everyone starts to seek out relationships with another, seeking constant company in each others presence; and here the true purpose of the island is revealed. The Island of Rebirth may seem like a never-ending playground for the kinky and the sexual, but in fact, it is actually a chance to create a relationship with someone, a chance to find the individual who you want to share your life with. It could be someone you let slip away, or someone who perished long ago. When two individuals find each other, and start a relationship, the next phase of the island starts. For when they start to share each other’s company, and to forge a bond of compassion, enjoyment, love, and mutual respect, the two no longer stay at the age of 35. They start to age, though aging is slow on the island. But during that time of aging, they continue to explore each other, and to know each other better. There is constant play, and games, and indulging their fantasies. And age is not as great a deal on the island as it is normally. For with no stress, or unhealthy foods, or sloth, each individual ages well, and gracefully, remaining active and well even when they reach the age of 70, or even 90, and still playing. The younger residents of the island do not discriminate against their elders, and treat them like equals. Thus, in so many ways, the island is a paradise for all. Eventually, however, there comes a time when a couple has to decide if the relationship is working out. Sometimes this can be decided in only a matter of days or weeks, while for others, years are needed. But eventually, the moment comes where the two, having been given the chance to share their new lives, have to choose whether to continue or to realize that the relationship won’t work out. If the relationship does not succeed, then a process begins. The two individuals, realizing that the relationship will not work, mutually agree to part ways, but this is a peaceful process. There are no accusations thrown, no angry divorce proceedings, and no hurt feelings. They both separate on good terms, knowing that both of them will eventually find the special individual who is right for them. When the separation is complete, the two are taken back into the forests and the jungle, and there, they are buried once more, returned to the grave. But again, this is not a sad process, but a necessary step for both of them. For they have aged during the relationship, and now it is time to be reborn, to have a clean start, so that both can start fresh. Therefore, each individual is first allowed to wear whatever clothing they wish; generally this is a tight body glove that gives warmth and protection. Over this, the individual is mummified, wrapped and sealed tightly within multiple layers of soft bandages, which are wrapped around their bodies until the individual can no longer move, or even wiggle. Once sealed inside their comfortable cocoon, the individual is carefully put into a tight sleep sack, which is then zipped shut, laced down, and buckled tightly. A hood is placed over the bandaged head, and also buckled down and laced, ensuring that the individual is completely sealed in tightly, ensuring that they cannot escape. But the individual, sealed away, does not want to. There is a sense of calm and acceptance throughout the process, of knowing that this is what has to be done. The bondage and restraint, while excessive, is like the cocoon that encloses the caterpillar: It has to be sealed away before it can be reborn. Once the individual is completely restrained, they are gently lowered into their coffin, which is soft and lined with pillows. The lid is put on, and locked, sealing the occupant in. The coffin is then lowered into the grave, six feet deep, and covered with earth once again, burying the individual into their private, quiet grave. For a month, both individuals are left in the earth, where they sleep in their graves, safe and protected. When the month is over, the graves are once again dug up, and the coffins removed. They are opened, and the mummified individual is removed from the sleepsack and unwrapped. And when the last bandages are removed, the individual is once again 35, rested, and reborn, ready to start their new lives once more. Thus, the process continues for every resident of the island. But when the time comes that a relationship has reached the decision point, more often then not, both agree that this is what they want, and that, in sharing their play, and their time with each other, they have found the individual they want to be with, a different process begins. The couple, now content with each other, and delighted at the idea of staying together, are taken to the far edge of the island, to what is dubbed the sacred graves. Here, the colors among the plants and leaves are move vivid and intense, and there is a lighter, more joyous feel in the air. This is where couples are buried together. The process is much like if the two had decided to separate. They are dressed in whatever they wish to wear, and then are wrapped up and mummified, their embalmers going steadily, but gently. This time however, the process is different, for while their bodies are wrapped up and sealed away, the couple’s faces are left unwrapped. And once both are wrapped, legs and arms sealed away and immobile, the couple is then placed together, face to face, and their two bodies wrapped together as one, so that they may be together, and face each other. When the process is complete, they are taken and placed in an extra-wide coffin, where they are belted down. The lid is placed on and nailed shut, and then they are lowered into the bright green earth, and the grave is covered and filled. And with that, the joyous burial is complete. Once a couple is buried, they are left in peace within the sacred ground. Exactly what happens, none of the island’s residents know. When they return to the sacred ground a month later, they find the grave site gone, and the coffin placed on top of the earth, empty. But no one is sad, for while they don’t know what happened to the couple, they sense that the two have moved on to something bigger, and greater, beyond the island. But they are glad for the couple, and are not envious, for one day, they will take the journey, when the time is right. Until that time though, the others will remain on the island, playing and experimenting, seeking out the individual with whom they will share a loving relationship. Inevitably, there will be some relationships that will not work out, and they will have to be buried and reborn. But the day will come when they find that special someone; and they too, will leave the Island of Rebirth.

Whenever I think back to that day, I wonder how it could have been done differently. We could have gone a little faster, or perhaps stuck to going through the shadows instead, using the stealth course. So many different variables, so many possible outcomes. But inevitably, I get depressed and moody, thinking about what might have been. I can’t help it, though. I have lots of time to think. My name is ID682, though I was given the nickname, ‘Kitt’ by my fellow slaves, due to my love of cats. I used to be a slave, though I guess I still am. Only now I’m less then a slave. I’m a prisoner, serving a life sentence. Perhaps a little background is in order. I was born in a country where slavery was still legal, though by most standards, slaves are treated well. We’re given plenty of time to rest and pursue some minor activities while in service, and while we’re given lots of work to do, it isn’t strenuous. We aren’t whipped, or given any other form of barbaric and inhumane punishment. At least, not most of the time. You see, there are only a few crimes that automatically earn you the strictest punishment, and the greatest of all these crimes is assaulting your master, and his (or her) family. No other crime committed by a slave is punished so harshly. It happened about ten years ago, if I remember correctly (you must understand, I’m given no calendars, or indications of what date it is during my incarceration). Some of my fellow slaves had devised an escape plan to try and break free of the manor where we lived. Escape attempts by slaves were rare, though they do happen. Because I was one of the quieter slaves, who didn’t make a fuss or bring any attention to myself, they considered me trustworthy. Truth be told, their plan was excellent. Disable the building’s security system, then sneak out in the dead of night, head for the coast, and sail away from the country, to one where we could be free. I wanted to be free, and here was my chance. So I took it and joined with them. It was the perfect plan. But things went horribly wrong. The night of our escape, our master and her family went out into the huge garden that made up the backyard of the manor, seeking to have a late night party. We should have waited and tried again, but too much had been invested. We had to try. So we disabled the security system as planned, and cut the power, then made our way into the garden, heading for the fences. Things didn’t work out as we had planned. We were spotted. We panicked, and though I ran, my fellow slaves attacked our master and her family, trying to put her down. But it was too late, and master managed to summon her security forces. We were captured, our escape foiled. And as we were put in cuffs and locked in the dungeon, we all realized that, because of what we had done, we would never know freedom. We were right. The trial began the next day. We were brought into the meeting room, where our master, her family, her slaves, and everyone who lived in the manor attended. My fellow slaves and I, chained to the floor and gagged, were given no defense, no lawyers to argue our case. Everyone knew what had happened. Our master first told everyone the facts of the crime, and that we had attempted to escape. While that itself would get a harsh punishment, the fact that we had attacked her and her family was so serious that we had earned the harshest possible punishment for ourselves. In only a few minutes, our fates were decided. My fellow escapees, the ones who had planned the attack, were clearly beyond redemption or rehabilitation, for they had planned this for a long time, and had calculated everything before hand. Had they included attacking our master in their plans? I don’t think so, and think that it was only done out of panic. But it didn’t matter now. My fellow slaves, due to their actions, were sentenced to be buried alive, entombed forever to prevent any chance of escape as long as they lived. Upon hearing their fate, my fellow slaves broke down in tears, but, gagged as they were, could not protest. My fate however, was to be different. My master noted that I was the only one who had run, rather then attack her. Thus, I was innocent of the worst crime a slave could commit. But I had still attempted to escape, and I had aided those who had attacked her. Thus, I still had committed a crime, and needed to be punished. But due to my quiet nature, and lack of a disciplinary record, she would show me mercy. Thus, my punishment was given. I was given a life sentence in the dungeons, to be restrained for the rest of my life, and never to be freed. Like my fellow slaves, I cried upon hearing my fate, my tears streaming over the thick gag plugged into my mouth. There were to be no appeals, no second chances. Our sentences were final, and could not be revoked. With a bang of the gavel, our fates were sealed. And not one to waste time, master carried out our sentences immediately. We went out back, where other slaves dug three graves. Coffins were built, and my fellow slaves were forced into rubber body gloves. Restraint belts were wrapped around their waists, and one time use handcuffs locked their wrists to the belt, as one time use cuffs were locked around their ankles, forever restraining them. Their gags were left on as they were forced into the coffins and tied down, removing their ability to move. I watched their panicked faces as the lids were put on and nailed down. Due to their gags, I was spared from hearing their screams as the coffins were lowered into the earth, then covered with dirt and soil, burying them. Simple headstones were erected, though there was no date of death on them. We would never know how long they lasted within their graves. With their punishment underway, it was now time for mine. I was marched into the mansion and into the dungeons, where I was taken to a cell that had been prepared for me. And it was there that I saw how I was to be restrained for the rest of my life, for a thick leather sleepsack was waiting for me. Knowing that it was useless to resist, and that doing so would only bring further punishment, I did not resist as I was put into the sack, my arms and legs going into the internal sleeves. The back was zipped up, and then laced shut, squeezing the sack around my body, compressing and holding it. I was taken and put onto the bunk, where leather straps were applied to me, tying me down, so I wouldn’t roll off onto the floor. And with that, master looked at me, disappointed. I had such potential, she told me, but that it was too late to undo her decision. This sentence was final. She left, and closed the cell door behind her, locking it, and leaving me in my new home. *** I don’t know how long ago that was. Time goes slowly here, in this cell, and with no clocks or calendars, I can only guess how much time has passed since my punishment began. I spend my days here in the cell, locked into this sleepsack. I have never been let out since my punishment began, and wear it twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, but then again, perhaps that isn’t the most accurate statement. I am released for cleaning and hygienic reasons, but I am never awake for those moments, for I am sedated. I sleep, and when I awake, I am still in the dungeon, still in the sack, which has been cleaned, as well as me. I am gagged twenty four hours a day as well, with a giant muzzle permanently strapped to my face, a thick gag shoved into my mouth and into my throat, which is how I am fed, with tubes and liquid nourishment given to me, as well as water. A thick collar is wrapped about my neck, embroidered with the words, ‘LIFE,’ signifying my status as a prisoner. It sounds like a horrible way to live, but while my master may be strict, she is not cruel. She allows my fellow slaves to visit me in my cell, and though I cannot talk to them, they stay with me, and are allowed to stroke and cuddle with me, giving me companionship. Occasionally, my beloved cats are brought in, and spend the day with me, and I enjoy their company, even though I cannot hold them. To keep me occupied, Master has a piece of restraint added to me every day. Some days I will be blindfolded, and on others a hood is slipped over my head. Sometimes she shackles my ankles to the bed, and sometimes she dangles me from the ceiling. Every day is different, the variety keeping me occupied, if nothing else, trying to adjust to my situation. Sometimes, on rare occasions, a television will be brought to my cell, and I am allowed to watch a film or television show. I love those moments, as well when my fellow slaves come down with a book to read to me. But even with these small favors, this is still a punishment. I am locked in here for life, and will never, ever leave. I do not have the freedom of movement my fellow slaves have, and my entire body is locked away. Aside from cuddling, I am not allowed to have any pleasures of the flesh, except that, if I continue on good behavior, I will be allowed to have one orgasm every decade or so. A very good incentive indeed. There are days where I am calm and collected, and there are days when I cry and weep over what I have lost, knowing that my entire world is a standard size prison cell. There is a small window near the ceiling, where a little sunlight comes in from the outside. I can look out it, and see the sky, and the clouds, and know that this is all I will ever see of the outside world again. Sometimes, I wonder if this is all really an act of mercy. I am alive, but it is a life of restraint, of no freedoms. I will be kept this way until the day I die, for that is my sentence, and my punishment. My fellow slaves, the ones who were buried so long ago, they are gone. Sometimes I wonder if they were the lucky ones. Their punishment was horrible, but it was brief. Mine is stretched out, on and on, for decades to come. I can’t help but wonder if I’m the unlucky one.

Author’s note: This story is set in the same universe as my prior Drider stories, which explain the world, and the situation between humans and Driders. * * * It was an exceedingly cold night as Oiai walked down the street, drawing her coat tighter around her, wishing once more that the weather had been more pleasant and accommodating for the get-together. But luck was not on their side, as this winter had been far colder then normal. Humans could adapt to the cold, but it was much harder for her kind to do so. Drawing her coat closer about her, Oiai hurried on, her legs moving quickly across the pavement. At last, the lights of the bar appeared, bright and warm within the cold winter night. The door, while large, was still small enough that she had to squeeze all her legs together to fit through. But once she was through, a gust of warm air flowed over her, and she felt warm enough to take off her coat. After putting the coat on a nearby rack, she walked towards the back of the bar, passing dozens of other driders, and the humans walking about. There was a festive mood in the air, with both species seeking refuge from the cold, and finding it in their drinks, the food, and the company of each other. Reaching a booth in the back, she sat down. There were several faces in the bar that Oiai recognized: Co-workers, neighbors, but there was one in particular that she didn’t see. A large tarantula came up. “Evening Oiai.” Oiai smiled. “Good evening Wangh.” “What’ll it be?” “Nothing at the moment. I’ll order once my date gets here.” Wangh smiled. “Trying your luck again, eh? Who with?” “A human. Goes by the name Jack.” “I don’t know of any human by that name.” “Not surprised. This is his first time coming here.” Wangh nodded. “Well, I hope it goes well for the two of you.” “I hope so. He’s very shy about all this. Took me a few months just to encourage him to come out here.” “Ah, just be yourself, and he’ll do fine. Now, just wave when you want some drinks, and I’ll be back.” “Thank you.” Legs scuttling, Wangh headed back towards the counter, leaving Oiai to wait, and ponder how this was going to go. Though this was a good, logical place to meet someone for the first time, she wondered if perhaps another location would have been better. Someplace with more warmth, perhaps a family restaurant. There weren’t any drunks here, but if something got out of hand, it could potentially ruin the entire evening. Considering how much this meant to her, she didn’t want to risk screwing it up. The human sized door opened, and a man walked inside. He was of average height and build, carrying a suitcase and wearing a dark green coat…the same attire Jack said he would be wearing upon arriving. Oiai looked over in surprise. So this was Jack…a bit smaller then she had imagined. He looked nervous too, peering around anxiously, no doubt feeling out of place among all the locals. Standing slightly, Oiai waved her hand. Jack saw it, quickly headed over. Like Oiai, he was also surprised at seeing her for the first time in person. Both had seen photos of each other over the internet, but had never met face to face. “So…Jack, I presume?” Oiai asked. Jack nodded. “Yep. The one and only.” Oiai extended her hand. “Well, nice to meet you in person at last!” Jack shook, then took a seat. “So…you know this place?” he asked. “Oh yes. Come here frequently after work,” Oiai assured him, sensing that he more nervous then she had intended. Perhaps she was bigger then he had imagined. Or perhaps it was because she was a black widow spider, which, from what she had read, were among the most poisonous spiders to humans. Or perhaps it was just the fact that actually seeing her face to face was something unnerving. “Well, what would you like to drink?” she asked, wanting to break the ice. “Water? Tea? Something else?” “Oh, water will be just fine, thanks,” Oiai signaled to Wangh, who came over, took their order, and went to have it made. “So…this your first time?” Oiai asked. “At a bar like this? Yeah…never been in a mixed bar before.” He looked around. While there were many humans in the bar, there were far more driders, of all species and types. “Nervous?” “A little, yeah,” Jack said. “Being…I mean, just having so many different…uh…your kind around is a little unnerving.” “How so?” Oiai asked, curious. Jack blushed, nervous. “Oh, just uh…childhood fear of spiders, you know? I mean, nothing against you personally or anything…I just remember back before your kind showed up, when the biggest spider was just the size of a dinner plate.” “That would be unnerving,” Oiai said. “Yeah.” Wangh came over, dropped off their drinks. “So, you’ve never been in a relationship with others of my kind before?” “Well, not really.” “And what are your first impressions?” Jack looked her over, trying to figure out a tactful way to reply. “Well…you’re a bit older then your picture let on. And you’re a bit…bigger. Not that you’re fat or anything.” The poor human wasn’t having a good time, Oiai could see that. She had made a critical error, she saw that now. A mixed bar wasn’t the best place to visit; the atmosphere was just too informal. They should have gone to that family themed restaurant, where things would have been more structured and friendly. Here, he was taking in too many things at once. She had to try and diffuse the tension, and get him out of here before his personal comfort level bottomed out. “If you want Jack,” she said. “We could go somewhere else, where you’re more comfortable.” “Oh no, no, that’s okay,” Jack said. “I mean…I expected to be a bit nervous, meeting you for the first time and all…it’s just that…well, and it’s just weird to see the face behind the username. I mean, I shouldn’t feel that way. How long have we been at this, now? Five years online?” “Six.” “Six, yeah. I just didn’t expect to feel this nervous.” “If this is your first time, that’s to be expected,” Oiai assured him. “You’ll warm up to it.” “I hope so.” Oiai smiled. “You will.” Taking his drink, Jack sipped it. “Oh yeah, I don’t doubt that. It’ll just take time, I suppose.” ...

My name is Patty. I’m a security guard at the local museum, and this is what I do for a living. Every morning I wake up at seven and take a shower. Breakfast is next, followed by getting dressed. Slacks, shirt, uniform. I get in the car and drive to work, clock in, and get my gear. Then, at nine, I start my rounds, going through the museum a floor at a time. At five, I help close the building and head home. Dinner, a movie, whatever I feel like doing at the time, and then to bed at ten. I’ve been doing this for ten years. Sounds boring, but it’s not. Why? I’m in charge of the two living mummies interred here. ...

It was a beautiful spring day; the type only seen once a year. The sun was shining it’s warmth onto the earth, and the sky was a bright, cheerful blue, with clouds slowly going through the sky, casting gentle shades upon the trees. It was a beautiful day to be buried alive. *** On the outskirts of a local city, there was a prison, dark and dreary in comparison to the beauty of nature. Dull grey concrete composed its foundation, housing within thousands who had been locked away from society, almost all of them political prisoners, who’s only crime had been to disagree with the government. ...

Part One For the sixth time that day, Anubis sighed. The ancient deity of Egypt sighed much these days. Existence without purpose was a fairly dull existence. Yes, he still had his powers. He had his huge palace on the banks of the spiritual Nile, and huge numbers of his followers who had decided to stay at the Egyptian afterlife. But for all his riches and wonders, Anubis had one thing that the old deities lacked now. ...

continued from part 1 Part 2 The field trip was giving Mrs. Clarie Hannover a very hard time. A previous cleaning lady, the schoolteacher was now trying to keep her class organized and orderly, a task that proved almost impossible. “Now class, if you follow Mr. Weaving, he’ll show us the Egyptian exhibit! Won’t that be fun? Bobby! Put that sword down!” The tour guide led the children into the Egyptian room, full of ancient treasures and artifacts. ...

“Eighteen!” You wait impatiently for the family servant to enter. Once he does, you notice that from his body language, he isn’t in a very good mood. Beneath the PVC bodysuit, his shoulders are slumped over, as his head. But with it encased inside a steel helmet, you can’t actually see his face and know what he looks like. But you, quite frankly, don’t care. You have other things to worry about. “Is my appointment for dinner set yet?” Eighteen Twenty Five (your family calls him eighteen for short), shakes his head. “You idiot!” You yell. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to reserve seats this late? Cheryl and I are never going to get there in time!” Furious, you stomp to your feet, walk over, and slam a steel paddle across his buttocks. He flinches, probably yelling, but that permanently installed gag silences him. Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, you yank his arms behind his back and cuff them in place, making sure the cuffs dig into his wrists ever so slightly. He’ll have all day to think about his impotence. “Get out of my sight.” Eighteen submissively leaves. You wonder just what the hell is wrong with him. You were looking forward to that dinner with your best friend tonight, but it appears that things are going to have to be rescheduled. Growling, you gather your car keys and lipstick. Even if Eighteen is feeling down, he doesn’t have any right to sulk. His masters expect him to carry out their every wish, no matter how he feels. Besides, whatever he did before becoming a domestic servant for life was no doubt awful. He earned this job, and he has no right to complain. Your cell phone rings. You hope its Cheryl, but groan when you see your father’s number on the display screen. “What is it daddy? I’m very busy right now.” “Samantha, where are you?!” “At home, but I’m about to go get my nails done.” “No you’re not! You need to be over here right now! The hearing is going to begin in an hour!” Confused, you glance at the calendar. Oh yes, the sentencing part of your trial is set for today. In between scheduling perm appointments, shopping sprees, and girl’s night outs, you had forgotten. But seeing it now, you groan again. No doubt that high strung judge is going to give you community service. The thought of walking around on the side of highways, getting your nails dirty is enough to give you shudders. “Can’t you pull some strings daddy? I have a lot to do today.” “Samantha McClintock!” Your father’s voice is enraged, and it’s enough to make you stop. You’ve never heard him this angry. “I’ve already pulled enough favors to make the courts as lenient as I can, and this is how you thank me? Your trial is going to end today, and you have to be here! Or God help me, I will not bail you out again! Is that understood?!” You’re strongly tempted to just blow it off, but if daddy is this angry now, how much more angry would he be if you were late? Sighing, you roll your eyes. “All right daddy. I’ll be right over.” “You’d better be.” You hang up before he can unleash another lecture about responsibility and consequences. You’re in no mood to hear any more of those. You get dressed, pulling on your fanciest, most expensive clothes, dressing up. If you’re going to be stuck in some dinky courtroom for the next few hours, you might as well make a fashion statement. No doubt bright colors and heavy makeup would go against the dress code, but you don’t care. After all, you have daddy on hand to bail you out if things get really bad. Putting on a fur coat, you call out, “Eighteen!” Eighteen walked into the room. He’s still slumped over, but there’s a hesitation in his movements. No doubt he’s afraid of whatever you’re going to be demanding of him. “I have an appointment at the courthouse,” You walk over, unlock his chains. “Drive me there.” *** The drive itself takes longer then expected, due to heavy traffic. You look at all the other cars, see that half of them are being driven by other domestic servants, all dressed in many different ways, but all wear the same helmets that completely enclose their heads, making it impossible to see who they are. You wonder if perhaps they’re driving slowly on purpose, just to irritate their masters. “Eighteen, hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Eighteen nods, tries to drive faster. But he can’t do much with the traffic as thick as it is. Glancing at your expensive wrist watch, you’re annoyed to see that you have just twenty minutes to get there, and the court is at least half an hour away. “Eighteen, I don’t care what you have to do, get us through this traffic! I don’t care if you have to drive over other people’s cars, just do it!” Eighteen hesitates. No doubt he’s fearful of what could happen if he speeds up and get caught, but you’re not in the mood to care. You have an appointment to get to, and by god, you’re going to make it. You unbuckle your seat belt and scramble to the front of the limo. “Out of the seat eighteen! You’re too slow to drive!” You barely give him enough time to unbuckle his seat belt before you shove him aside, grab the wheel, and gun the engine. The limo takes off, slamming into cars and shoving them aside. Almost immediately, horns blare, but you ignore them. More important matters are at stake! “Idiot!” You yell to one car that refuses to get out of the way. In defiance, you hit him in the trunk, finally getting enough room to squeeze past. Reaching the off ramp, you cut off a few slower drivers and press onwards, ignoring the horns and the yelled obscenities. They’re all beneath you anyway. It takes some more frantic driving, as well as a few ignored red lights, but you finally reach the court, park, and get out, straightening your coat and hat. You can’t afford to look unfashionable or dirty. That would be just wrong. “Stay here,” You tell Eighteen, locking the car. You walk to the building and head inside, ignoring the stares of the building’s occupants. All that matters right now is that damn court and getting this over with. You pull out your PDA and look at the calendar, hoping that whatever community service you’re given doesn’t interfere with all your parties and important events. You finally reach the courtroom and walk in. The judge is there, along with your parents, and a few guards. They all look unhappy to see you. Glancing at the clock, you see why. Despite your frantic driving, you’re still ten minutes late. “Sorry,” you say in your most chipper voice. “Sorry everyone. Traffic was so bad, I like, thought I would never get here!” Your father is almost red, seeing what you’re dressed in. But he can shove it for all you care. After all, he raised his voice against you! “Samantha McClintock, please step forward,” the judge says. She doesn’t sound happy. You walk out and stand before the judge, wondering how long this is going to take. “Can we hurry this up?” You ask. “I’ve got a hair appointment in an hour.” The judge glares at you. “Young lady, do you even realize the magnitude of why you’re here? You’re on your third strike.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Listen, can you go ahead and give me my community service? I’d rather not be here.” The judge pulls out a stack of papers. You groan. No doubt she’s going to try and intimidate you by reading how grave the implications of this are. “Samantha McClintock, twenty five years old, daughter of famed billionaire Jon McClintock, and already you have a long history of run ins with the law. Numerous citations of disorderly conduct, appearances in public while drunk, resisting arrest, being rude to law enforcement officials, and numerous speeding tickets.” You roll your eyes. So what if you’ve gotten into some trouble? It’s all in the name of having a good time, after all. “It appears to me that you have no respect for authority, or the law. And…Mrs. McClintock, will you please pay attention!” You glance up from your little mirror, putting away the lipstick. “Yeah, what?” “Young lady, I can have you arrested in contempt of court. Now pay attention, or I’ll put you in jail for a month, is that clear?” You roll your eyes, making sure she can see you do it. “Fine.” The judge glares at you. “It’s clear to me that, by all appearances, you’re a spoiled little brat who deserves what’s coming to her. Now, with the three strikes law in effect, I could have you put away for twenty five years to life.” “For some traffic tickets?! Come on lady!” “I am referring to your drunk driving records. You’ve injured many people, and so far your father’s lawyers have managed to keep you out of jail.” You smile. “But not this time. Now, this is your last chance, because if you get another felony or another strike, you’re going to prison for a very long time. For this period, I will give you five hundred hours of community service, to be spent picking up trash along freeways and highways. This case is…” She’s about to bring the gavel down when an officer runs in the court. “Yes?” The officer glares at you. “We’ve gotten reports that that woman’s limo sped through traffic and caused some serious injuries. And we have the video camera footage to prove it.” The judge glares at you. “Hey, like, I had to get here, otherwise I was going to be late,” you say. “So I had to speed up a bit.” The judge shakes her head. “I pity you Samantha. I think your father’s money has gone to your head. You think you can do whatever you want and get away with it. But not this time. You’ve proven that you just don’t care about society’s laws or rules. And if you will not abide by our rules, then society will kick you out. Because of the three strikes law, I hereby sentence you to life in prison with no possibility of parole.” She bangs the gavel. “This court is adjured.” Your knees buckle, and your heart stops for a few moments. Life in prison? Maybe you didn’t hear her right. Maybe your ears are clogged with wax, because there’s no way she could have just sentenced you to spend the rest of your life behind bars. The sight of the guards coming towards you, ready for a fight, only confirms that this is really happening. “Get your hands off me!” You scream, trying to knock them away. “Get off me!” But they easily overpower you, and drag you away from the podium, and towards a small door near the back, the one that guards drag defendants through when they’re heading for prison. Your parents are sobbing, both stunned at what’s just happened. You yell out at them for help, begging them to come and get you out of here. But it seems that, for once, your daddy’s deep pockets can’t help you. Then they’re gone, as you’re shoved through the door. The other side is a world you’ve never known. It’s cold and bare, with white walls and no decorations, with only the flimsiest, most bare furnishings. You can hear weeping and sobbing from behind some the doors in this hallway, but you’re too startled to really pay attention. The shock is insulating you from the reality of what’s happening, but even then, you can barely operate, and the guards have to practically drag you around. You’re taken to a side room, which one of the guards unlocks. It’s bare inside, save for a few benches and a few O rings bolted to the floor. The door is locked behind you all. “Strip down,” one of the guards says. “Excuse me? No way in hell!” You spit. “Strip down, or we will force you to.” “You can’t do anything!” You yell. “My daddy will get you all! I know my rights!” “Missy, you don’t have any rights now. And your father can’t help you. Now strip.” You spit at the guards. “Fuck you!” They come at you, start yanking your clothes off. You struggle, scream, try to bite them, even moreso when they yank off all your fancy clothes, toss your purse across the room, careless of the expensive phone and perfume inside. The beautiful shirt and dress you’ve been so proud of, is casually torn off like tissue paper, leaving you naked. “Damn you!” You scream. They take a dark blue jumpsuit and force you into it, zipping it shut. “Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” the chief guard says. “It’s your choice honey. We can use handcuffs, but if you resist, we’ll have to use tighter restraints. Even though the four of them are holding you down, you don’t give a damn about what they’re saying. You want to bite them. One of the guards leans too close, and you do exactly that. “All right, get the jacket and a muzzle,” the chief guard says. “We’ve got a biter.” A straightjacket, thick and white, is brought in. Upon seeing it, you go utterly ballistic. The cold, hard reality of your helplessness hammers home as it’s forced around your body, your arms going into the closed sleeves. Your upper body is forced up, and then your arms are grabbed and forced into a loop on your chest, then buckled down tightly behind you. You frantically struggle, thrashing your arms even as the straps are tightened down, and the crotch straps threaded through your groin. “No, no, no no!” You scream. It’s the last words you give before a muzzle is produced with a built in gag. It’s forced into your mouth, going over your tongue and to the very back of your throat. As it’s tightened around the back of your head, you try to scream, but the muzzle and gag work together to plug your mouth. Leg cuffs are latched around your ankles, so as to stop your struggles. You’re lifted to your feet and forced out of the cell, the remains of your former life lying in tatters on the floor. You struggle against the jacket, fighting it, but it mercilessly holds you, containing your body effortlessly. You can barely walk as it is. When you reach the end of the hallway, the double doors are opened, and a large prison van is waiting, other restrained prisoners being put on board. “No!” You try to scream. “No, this isn’t fair! This isn’t fair!” Nobody can hear you. And they wouldn’t care if they could. You’re marched up to the bus, then put onboard, forced into a seat, and chains shackle you to the floor of the bus. The bus drives away from the court, taking you away. *** The ride to prison is the most terrifying ride you’ve ever taken. You’re trapped in your seat, unable to move, unable to have any say in what’s happening. You can’t even talk. You no longer struggle against the hold of the jacket and the cuffs. You’re too emotionally drained to do so. The scenery outside the windows change from the towers of the city, to the houses of the suburbs, and then the hills and flat plains of the desert. The heat inside the bus begins to rise, and your thick jacket doesn’t make things any easier. You want to ask for water, for anything to quench your rising thirst, but you can only mumble with the thick gag. The bus turns a corner, and you see your new home…a giant, concrete prison that stands in the center of the desert. It looks like hell on earth. You sweat, shaking as the bus passes through the multiple gates, before being swallowed up into the complex. As the bus comes to a stop, guards file into the bus, unlatching your fellow prisoners from the seats and escorting them off. You’re the last one. When they unlatch the chains holding you to the floor, you try to kick them. While emotionally drained, you’re still angry enough to fight, no matter how useless it is. The guards don’t take kindly to that. You can’t hit them, considering that your ankles are shackled together, and to punish you, they handle you roughly as you’re forced off the bus. Entering through several checkpoints, you hear distant shouts and yells. The air reeks of despair and helplessness. Ahead of you, the other prisoners are being sent through X-rays, strip searched, and then being issued prison uniforms. The thought of being stripped naked and having a complete stranger grope your most private parts makes you shudder with disgust. But after you pass through the X-ray, the guards direct you away from the others and through a side door. Despite your fear, your pounding heart slows. You’re curious about what’s happening. You’re taken into what looks like an operating room. And before you can try to figure out what’s going on, your gag and muzzle is removed, only to be immediately replaced with a clear mask held over your mouth and nose. “What are you doing you bastards?!” You yell. “Watch it, she’s a bitter,” A guard says. “Turn up the gas.” “Let me go! Let me…go…le…” Your protests are silenced as a sudden, unstoppable fatigue slips over you. Legs buckling, you helplessly fall to the floor, unable to stand. You hit hard, unable to use your arms to stop your fall. It hurts, but the pain quickly vanishes as you’re overcome with darkness and silence. *** When you wake, things are different. Blinking, you look around. You’re in a cell. Your jumpsuit is gone, as is your straitjacket. For that alone, you’re relieved. In their place are cuffs around your ankles, a belt around your waist, with your cuffed hands locked to them. Thankfully, you’re not naked, nor are there any signs that you’ve been taken advantage of. You’re wearing a skin tight body suit, but the fabric is unfamiliar to you. It’s like spandex, only heavier, yet tighter. You try to stand. With your arms restrained, it’s difficult. As you try to rise, a pounding headache slams into you. There’s a mirror on one side of the wall. Glancing at it, you see a bandage on your head, which no longer has any hair. “My hair!” You shriek. You beautiful, beautiful hair, which you’ve spent hours keeping clean and pretty (thanks to hundreds of dollars from daddy’s pocket), is now gone. “You bastards! What did you do to my hair!” “Shut up lady!” An unseen voice says. “No! I won’t! Why did you take my hair?!” A bored guard comes up to the door of your cell. “Because you’re not supposed to have any. Now shut up, or I’ll have you gagged and jacketed again, only the jacket’s twice as tight as before.” “You can’t do that!” He smiles. “Lady, you got no rights no more. I can do anything I want to you, and nobody’s going to care. I could put you in solitary, blindfolded, for ten years, and nobody would question it. You want that?” You go silent. “Didn’t think so. Now shut your pot hole, and stay quiet.” He walks away, leaving you in your cell. The next several hours go by torturously slow. With no clock to tell you the time, and no windows to hint where the sun is, you’re stuck in the room with nothing to do, and with no idea on how you can possibly adapt to this. Lying on your bunk, you try to think back to what you know about prison. Given your privileged upbringing, it’s not much. You know that since the crime waves the mid century, the system in place is harsher on those who commit crimes. Parole is virtually unheard of. Prisoners spend almost all of their time in restraints while behind bars. A few end up as indentured servants for life, like eighteen at home. Looking down at your shackles, you’re terrified at the idea of wearing them for the rest of your life. But then again, is that really going to happen? Your daddy is surely doing everything he can to get you out. His billions will get you out of here, and you can go home, and forget about this horrible place. But what if that doesn’t work? The thought is only brief, but horrifying. If daddy can’t get you out of here, then you really will be stuck here…for life. Life…to stay here for the rest of your life until you die. The thought terrifies you. *** Time passes slowly. You sleep a few times, but for the most part, you have no idea how long you stay in the cell. It could be several hours, or several days. Others are brought in, getting their own cells across the hall from you, and like you, they’re dressed in the bodysuits, and chained up in a similar fashion. It appears that for whatever reason, whoever is in charge is waiting until there are a sufficient number of you before moving on. Finally, after one last individual is brought in, guards enter the hall, three to each door. You watch as the cell door slides open, but you don’t try to fight. The restraints alone that make impossible, but you can’t fight your way past three guards. So, biting your lip you let them grab your shoulders and march you out of the cell. You’re marched down the hall and out, into what appears to be a classroom…only this room has desks that are bolted to the floor, and there are no decorations, only harsh lights hanging from the ceiling. You’re taken to a desk, where several belts are strapped across your body, lashing you to the chair. You bite your lip as the belts are tightened, vowing that no matter what it takes, you’ll make these guards pay for this indignity. When you’re lashed down, as are your fellow inmates, the guards go the side of the room and wait. The door opens a short time later, and a man walks in. He’s dressed in a fancy uniform, and regards all of you. You can’t help but notice that he’s carrying a briefcase at his side. “I am the warden of this facility,” he says. “And I’m here to tell you that you are all no longer people. You are criminals, the scum and trash of society.” He puts the briefcase on the desk. “You are all here because of your criminal actions, and all of you have been given life sentences. But because our prison system is ever evolving, and ever adapting to protect the citizens of this country from the filth in the streets, you are all the latest volunteers for an experiment.” “You might as well not even bother,” you say. The warden looks at you. “And why is that?” “Because whatever it is, my father’s going to find out about it, and he’ll take care of you.” The threat however, doesn’t intimidate the warden. To your amazement, he actually smiles. “A little daddy’s girl, aren’t we? Missy, your father can’t help you anymore. You’re never going to see him again. You’re here for life, and there is no escaping it. So just accept it.” “Accept it? Accept it?! I’m only twenty five! I can’t be here for life! That’s unfair!” “Society putting up with you for as long as it did is unfair.” “You bastard! I won’t…” “You won’t do a thing, except comply with our orders. Do so, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and you will be punished.” He opens the briefcase. “When you were all brought here, you were put under using anesthesia. The next thing you knew, you woke up in your cells. During that time you were asleep, our surgical team here did a minor operation on your brain, and implanted a small stimulator deep inside it.” He holds up a remote control. “Normally, each device is controlled separately, but they can also be linked together, so that one remote can control several at once. These implants control both the pleasure…” He presses a button, and you suddenly feel euphoric. Pleasure flows through you, overtaking every essence of your being, making you moan involuntarily, shaking and shuddering against your restraints, your body going out of control. Then, a second later, it stops. You go still, immediately disappointed, wanting the pleasure to come back. “And the pain receptors of your brain.” The man presses another button on the remote, and a second later your body suddenly goes taut with pain. Your nerves scream as fire seems to sear them, and it feels like knives begin jabbing you. You scream, thrashing in your restraints, your voice joining the howls of the others as they writhe in agony. A moment later, and it stops. Panting, wheezing, you look up at the warden, and the remote he’s holding. “We have learned that no matter how hard we try, we cannot create a system that rehabilitates all people. But we did discover that we can modify an individual via pleasure and pain, the two most basic senses of the human mind. The concept is very simple. You do as you are told, and you will be rewarded.” He presses a green button, and the wonderful feeling of euphoria comes back. But it only lasts for a moment, before the high wears off, and you’re left in your chair, feeling horribly neutral. “Disobey, and you will be punished.” He touches the red button ever so slightly, and a jolt of pain goes through you. But it’s over before you can even flinch. “This system works on everyone, no matter their deposition, personality, or individual willpower. Drug dealers, murderers, child rapists, all are helpless before the powers of bliss and despair. They can fight, and hold off as long as they can, but it is inevitable that they eventually become putty that we can shape as we please.” He looks at all of you. “While you all will serve out your life sentences here, you will do so as part of this program, for we want to see exactly how far we can go with it. Just how much can we do when reprogramming someone? We will find out with all of you. Some of you will be programmed to act like dogs. Others will be trained to enjoy being used as a punching bag. Others…” He looks right at you. “Will be programmed to accept staying locked up and isolated with no human contact, where even the slightest whimper will bring pain.” “Bullshit!” You cry out. “That’s bullshit! This is evil! You’re evil!” “My, my, you’re a feisty one. But all animals can be tamed, even the brats and brutes of the world.” “I’m not an animal! I’m not!” “Your behavior suggests otherwise.” “Damn you! Damn…” He holds up the controller and presses the red button. Pain surges through you. You scream and thrash, trying to escape it, but there is no escape. The burning hot pain claws and rips into every inch of your body. It lasts for thirty agonizing seconds. When it finally subsides, you collapse into the restraints, unable to hold yourself up. You can’t even look up as the man looks to the other inmates. “A prime example of what you will all go through. You will all know pain and pleasure as we program you. Obey the rules, follow orders, and you will know pleasure. Those who resist, and who break the rules…Well, you’re only just hurting yourself.” You can barely look up at him as the man puts the remote back in the briefcase. “Prepare them.” *** No sooner does the warden leave then you start to fight, struggling as the guards undo the belts holding you down. With the cuffs, you can’t do anything, but you still struggle, refusing to accept your fate. The idea of what they’re going to do with you is too terrifying, too horrible to think. Reprogramming? They’re going to warp your mind, turn you into a zombie. You wail as they drag you out of the room. You’re taken, along with all the others, to what looks like a large surgical room with dozens of tables. Upon each table is a black leather sleep sack with many belts, straps, and buckles. You realize what’s going to happen, but there’s nothing you can do about it. The guards take you to one of the tables and pick you up, forcing you down onto it, and holding you there as they take the sleep sack and unfold it. The inside has internal sleeves for your arms and legs, meaning that once you’re in it, and it’s closed, you’ll be completely helpless and at their mercy. “No!” You scream as your ankles are released from the cuffs, and then forced into the sack. “No, no, no!” With your legs in place, the guards go for your wrists. They’re unlocked from the cuffs, and the belt taken off your waist. Before you can punch them, or rake their faces, they grab hold of your arms. Even with adrenaline flowing through you, you can’t resist them as they force your arms down, and slid them into the sleeves of the sack. You can only watch as they pull the zipper down the length of the sack, closing it, and tightening it around your body. When it’s put in place at your throat, the guards then take the straps sewn into the sack and buckle them together, cinching them down, and tightening the sack even further, compressing it around you. “No! Let me out!” You struggle and squirm, but the sack holds you tightly, refusing to give. “Let me go!” Your yells are met by the guards smug grins, and the weeping and sobbing of your fellow lifers. You look down at yourself and continue to struggle, unable to believe that this is happening, that your body is locked inside this sleep sack, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing you can do to get out. You’re so focused on the sack that you don’t see the guards pulling out a thick muzzle, and a matching hood. “Wait.” You turn at hearing the voice. It’s the warden, and he walks up to you. His eyes drift over your tightly restrained form, admiring your helplessness, the fact that he can do whatever he wants, and you’re helpless to stop him. “I’d like to talk this one before you do that.” Only then do you look up and see the hood and muzzle, your heart skipping a beat. How much worse can this possibly get? “You know, eventually, after we train you all to do what we want, you’ll eventually be shipped off to brothels,” the warden says. “A far better way to serve society as part of your punishment. Now, you’ll be going there as well, but first, you’re going to do something for me.” “Screw you!” You shout. The main raises the remote, and your anger is tempered by fear. “You’re learning quickly,” he says. “Now, I can’t stand rich, spoiled brats like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, and I think that earns you some extra punishment on top of your sentence. But then again, I’m something of a gambling man. I like wagers, so I’d like to offer you one.” You glare at him. “I’ll make you a deal. I have a cell phone with me that I can use to call your father. If you can convince him to pull some strings, then you’ll go to the brothel for the rest of your life, like all the rest.” “Why the hell would I want to do that?” “Because if he doesn’t help you, I transfer you to the private cell block, where special inmates are kept. You’ll be trained to be my little love toy, programmed to accept whatever I put into you without hesitation…as well as being kept in isolation for weeks, if not months, or even years at a time, with virtually no human contact.” He smiles as he rubs the remote. “Such a delicious idea, no? Of course, you’d be sent to the brothels eventually, after I program you to be totally docile and obedient.” He takes out the phone. “Now, what’s your daddy’s number?” It’s an impossible choice. The consequences of what happens if your father refuses to help are too severe to contemplate. That, and knowing that if you refuse, the warden can just take you to the private block anyway means you’re in a loose - loose situation. There really is no choice. You tell him the number. And as he dials, you try to keep up a brave face, but inside, you’re squirming. After all, Daddy loves you. He’ll get you out of this. He’s always stepped in to get you out of a tight spot. There’s no reason to believe he won’t do the same here. With the numbers dialed, the warden holds the phone up to your ear. As it rings, you look over, see your fellow lifers getting the hoods and muzzled strapped on, then carried away to god knows where. Your stomach turns. The phone clicks as it’s picked up. “Hello?” Hope surges through you. “Daddy! It’s me!” There’s no reply. “Daddy? It’s me!” This time there’s a reply, but it’s slow and cautious. “Samantha?” “Daddy, I need your help! These people, they’re doing terrible things to me! You have to get me out of here!” Your daddy waits for several seconds before replying. “Samantha, I’m not helping you.” It’s a moment before you can speak. “What?” “Samantha, you’ve always counted on me to bail you out. But I won’t. Not this time.” “Daddy…” “I won’t bail you out. Do you really think you can get away with this?” “But you have money! You can make it work!” “Money can’t buy anything. I wish it brought me a daughter who wasn’t a spoiled brat.” Your mouth goes dry as you stare at the phone, suddenly unable to speak. “I’m done with you Samantha. I’m so sick and tired of you relying on me for everything. I’m done. Accept your punishment and be a woman, not a crybaby.” He pauses. “I love you Samantha, but I won’t help you. Goodbye.” The line goes dead. You stare at the phone for the longest time, before the warden pulls it away. “Too bad,” he says. “Looks like I win the bet.” He leans in closely. “Your daddy has abandoned you. He’s gone. He’s never coming back. And you’re now alone, in a world that doesn’t care about you.” The guards move towards you with the hood and the muzzle. “Your old life is gone. The rich, spoiled brat is no more. Now you’re nothing.” He presses a finger onto your sack. “You’re mine.” Turning, the warden walks away. “Take her to the private block when you’re done,” he tells the guards. “I’m going to start training her tonight.” You can only stare numbly at the ceiling. You don’t resist as the guards take the muzzle and force it into your mouth, then buckle it behind your head, silencing you. This is the rest of your life. In this sack, in a cell, in a brothel. No more parties. No more fine food and restaurants. No more clothes shopping, no nail polish or fancy fell phones. The only thing you have to look forward to now is constant confinement and restraint, bare cells and bars, and the knowledge that you will never, ever be released. This is a life sentence. As the hood is brought over your head, you sob. Then the hood is on, and is locked in place. And everything is dark. ...

I’m awoken as the wind blows through the trees, making my sack sway gently. Blinking my eyes, I look about, wondering if this is something new. But it is not. Only the breeze, and nothing more. A few moments later, and my sleep sack goes still once more. Closing my eyes, I try to go back to sleep, but being awoken in such a manner makes it impossible. I have no way of knowing how long I’ve slept, for the fog and dim light remain unchanged since when I dozed off. A day could have gone by, or a week. I just don’t know. But then again, here, in Limbo, time never seems to change. *** My name is Quentin, and I’m a prisoner in Limbo. Counter to what some of you may believe, there is an afterlife, but it’s unlike anything you might have thought. Heaven and Hell don’t exist. There’s no fiery torture chamber or paradise the dead go to. There’s only Limbo, a place that’s void of good or evil. Everyone comes here, regardless of what they did in life. I came here about… ten years ago, I think. I had been killed in a car crash while driving home one evening. But there was no tunnel of light for me, no pearly gates. There had only been blackness, and when I awoke, I found myself lying in the middle of a forest. Confused, I had gotten up, unsure of how I had gotten here. Even more confusing, yet somewhat surprising, was that I was no longer fifty five. I had the body of a fit and lean thirty year old, something that I was surprised and happy about. There was a path on the ground, and I followed it, hoping to find answers as to where I was. After following the path for some time, I arrived at a small building. Going inside, I was met by the keepers of this place, who told me that I was dead, and that I had arrived in Limbo. At first, I was frightened and confused, but they calmed me down, and told me that I had little to fear. Limbo, they explained, was the abode of the dead. Both righteous and wicked souls came here, where they would remain forever, as Limbo would be their final resting place. But it is not a bad thing. Eventually, all of Limbo’s occupants fall into a deep sleep that lasts for eternity, where no nightmares can touch them, where there is only peace. But, I was told, before that would happen, a person had to be punished for the evil they did in life. I was afraid of being punished, because like many others on earth, I had been told that punishment in the afterlife was eternal and never-ending. But I was told that such a view was incorrect. The punishment in Limbo was proportional to the evil one committed in life. No one, no matter how evil, was punished forever. Some might be punished for a few weeks, others for millions of years, but in the end, everyone fell into the final sleep that claims us all. My life was reviewed. All in all, I had been fairly good, but my major crime, my wickedness, if you will, was that I had been a fraud when it came to investing. I had taken people’s money and used it for my own benefit, rather then investing it for them like I promised. My schemes had made me fantastically rich, but, as I learned, had driven many people into bankruptcy, along with several companies. For this, I was told, I was to be punished for fifty years. But there was no malice from the keepers. They did not judge me, or condemn me. The sentence was equal to the amount of misery and suffering I had inflicted. I was nervous about such a sentence, but knew there was no running away. If I did, I was told, I would only be lost in Limbo, aimless, and alone. It would be better to serve the time and get it over with. Hesitantly, I agreed, not knowing what the punishment was to be. I was taken into a room, where I was given a thick rubber suit. I managed to get into it, squeezing inside it, with only my head remaining uncovered. I was informed that the next part of the punishment would involve restraining me, and if I resisted, I would be forcibly restrained. Seeing as I didn’t want to annoy my captors, I nodded. Black bandages were brought into the room, and the keepers began to wrap me up. I stood, looking down as they wound the wrappings around my body, a limb at a time, until I was wrapped up from chin to toe. Then my legs were pressed together and wrapped together, sealing them into a single unit. My arms were placed at my side, and they were wrapped there, covered and held in place. With my arms and legs restrained, I was powerless to stop the keepers as they continued their work. For what felt like an hour, I was mummified, wrapped up in layer after layer of the bandages, each one squeezing and compressing me, making movement ever more difficult. Eventually, they worked their way up and around my head. I was terrified that they were going to cover my face, blinding me, but they avoided my face, and focused on the rest of my head, until that too, was covered in layers of bandages. Then the last bandage was tied down, I was fully mummified, encased in over ten layers of bandages, and barely able to wiggle. The wrappings were tight enough that, if I had been alive, I wouldn’t have been able to breathe. But because I had no need of air, I was just held completely immobile. One of the keepers held me upright while another took out a leather sleep sack. I was lifted up as it was placed at my feet, and then threaded up and over my bandages. The sack was a size too small for me, which ensured a tight, snug fit, so much so that the keepers had to pull hard to close the zipper. Once the zipper was closed, they took some rope and began to thread it through the sack and over the zipper, cinching the sack tighter around me, compressing me even further, if that was possible. I could only stand there, feeling the bag squeezing itself around me, starting at my feet, and working its way up, the feeling of tightness slowly, inevitably, working its way up, until the lacing was finally finished at my neck. The keepers stepped back for a moment (save the one holding me up), looking me over, ensuring that my restraints were tight. They were, though I didn’t tell them so. I was worried they would find something else to apply to my form, and make things even tighter. Apparently, they thought it wasn’t tight enough, for they got several belts, and threaded them through loops in the sack, buckling them at my ankles, knees, thighs, lower and upper torso, and finally, my neck. When the last belt was buckled down and secured, the keepers were apparently satisfied with my restraints, for all of them left, save the one holding me up. He effortlessly picked me up and carried me out of the building. We went into the forests of limbo, where he carried me down a path, taking us deeper into the woods, the faint light coming and going as we went through the thick trees and fog. As we went, I couldn’t help but notice people dangling in trees, all of them dressed as I were. Completely restrained, and sealed in leather and rubber. But there were others, lying on the grass, who’s eyes were closed, and were unaware of us. They were, I was told, those who had completed their punishments, and now rested peacefully. I asked if my family was here. Some were, I was told, but that I was not to be afraid. Once all of us had completed our punishments, we would be together, and would remain so forever. All we had to do was wait a little while, and then it would happen. The keeper stopped at one of the taller trees. A thick rope was dangling from a branch. Standing me up, he tied the rope to the back of the sack, securing it. This place was where I would be punished, I was told. I would be left in solitary, to look back on my mistakes in life and contemplate them. To ensure that I would do so in silence, the keeper took out the last piece of restraint I was to wear…a thick gag. Knowing that it was useless to protest, I opened my mouth and allowed it to be pushed in. It went deep, entering my mouth and throat, making it impossible to speak. I wiggled my mouth as the gag was buckled on, securely covering my mouth, and my entire lower face. With the gag on, the rope began to rise, taking me with it. I was pulled into the air, looking down as the keeper watched me go upwards. When I finally came to a stop fifty feet above the ground, the keeper left, leaving me. *** I have forgotten how long ago that was. There is no way of measuring the passage of time in Limbo. The weather never changes, and it never grows brighter or darker. It always remains the same, and it always will. I dangle here, from my tree. Watching. Waiting. Occasionally I see someone being carried by below, being taken to their own trees. And occasionally, I see someone being released, and led somewhere to begin their eternal rest. I wait for the time when I will be released. But until then, I will remain here, with no one to talk to, alone with nothing but my thoughts, and my memories. I have nothing but my restraint. I hear nothing, but the wind softly blowing through dead branches.

“Wake up ladies! Rise and shine! It’s the big day!” Nicholas was already wide awake, staring at the ceiling, his eyes red and bloodshot. He heard the guards, but didn’t move. He didn’t want to go anywhere for that matter, but he had no say in the matter. Not that he would be listened too, anyway. “Up and at ’em. You’re out of here in half an hour” “This early?” A prisoner from the next cell said. “Yep. What did you expect? A sunrise serenade? Nope, you all get the midnight shift. Now get moving!” Nicholas heard his cell mate start to whimper, no doubt trying to hold back tears. He would have cried too, but he was just too frightened at the moment. He had spent much of the past few hours crying, and he had nothing left. “Nicholas! Up and at ’em. Don’t want to get marked for discipline problems now, would you? It wouldn’t look good on your record.” “At this point, I really don’t care,” Nicholas said softly. “Well, we have a schedule to keep. So get moving.” He could have stayed on his bed and not moved. Eventually, they’d call in the riot guards, who would drag him out of the cell. But now, he didn’t want that. He wanted things to go with dignity, if that were even possible. Sitting up on the cot, he looked around the cell, took stock of what few minuscule possessions he had. As far as he knew, every one of them had a new owner in mind. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about that. The transport bus arrived ten minutes later, at which point Nicholas and his fellow cell mates were shackled, marched outside, and onto the bus, which began it’s night time ride. Nicholas looked out the windows as they drove, wishing he could at least see the sun one more time. But it wasn’t gong to happen. The bus drove for about an hour, giving every man and woman on board enough time to think and contemplate their fate. Most were quiet, either too stunned, or resigned to their fate. A few were crying. A few more were no doubt trying to plan some daring, last minute escape. But Nicholas stayed near the window, looking out at the countryside, watching as it went past, the trees illuminated by the full moon. “Nervous?” He looked over at the woman next to him. Ann, he thought that was her name. “Of course I am.” “Good. Glad to know I’m not the only one.” Ann gave a nervous chuckle. “it’s like, what? Ten minutes to go?” “Don’t know. Never been down this route before.” There was an awkward silence between the two. “Do you think it’ll hurt?” “A little, yeah. Don’t know how much though.” Ann was quiet, but her lips trembled. The bus turned off the main road, went down a small dirt trail. It was a rough, bumpy ride. A few were hoping that the bus would spill onto it’s side, or otherwise be temporarily sidetracked, but their hopes were dashed as it continued onward, finally clearing the forest and arriving at their final destination…a large, deep water beach. Nicholas stared at the water as he was unbolted from his seat, then led outside with the others. There were numerous armed guards on the beach, watching the prisoners closely. As he was marched, Nicholas felt the wet sand underneath his standard issue sneakers. There was a high tide tonight…which was exactly what the state had waited for. They came to a stop. The prisoners were lined up, one by one, as the warden walked in front of them, holding an official proclamation. “All right dirt bags,” he said. “Because of the nature of all your crimes, the state has decided that it’s not worth keeping you alive and locked in a cell for the rest of your lives. Thanks to the budget cuts, we’ve had to find other ways to get rid of society’s filth, and this is where it is. You all are about to become fish food.” Ann gulped next to Nicholas, trying not to burst out in tears. “Here, you will serve another purpose…becoming food for nature’s most noble sea animals.” As if on cue, several giant fins appeared in the water, heading straight towards the beach. They were too large to be the fins of sharks though…Nicholas watched, wondering what these things were. Giant forms leapt from the water, landing on the beach. And all the inmates gasped. A whole pod of Killer whales lay on shore. Enormous in size, each one was roughly the size of a moving van, it’s body swollen and huge, built of pure muscle, and each was heavy enough to crush a car, should they ever be dropped on one. “Say hello to your dinner guests,” the warden said with a smile. “The secret whales of project deep Six, the navy’s trials to train capable aquatic life to guard or shores against terrorists and would be illegal immigrants. These beauties are specially trained to swallow intruders, who then end up as their meals.” He smiled. “Tonight, it’s your turn. They haven’t eaten in a while.” Three guards came up to each prisoner. They were stripped naked, jumpsuits being gathered in a pile. “Half of you are going to go in your birthday suits. The rest of you are going to be suited up, to give these beauties practice at swallowing something slick and greasy.” Half of the naked prisoners were dragged forward, at which point, under armed guard, they were slathered with lard and lube, making their bodies shine under the moonlight. Then, with the guards keeping their weapons pointed, they were forced to the whales. Nicholas watched in horror as each inmate was forced up to one of the whales, at which point the beasts lunged forward and grabbed them. One it took hold, it shook and flapped until the helpless inmate was in place, then began to gulp them down whole, never biting or chewing, until frantically kicking feet, or thrashing hands vanished down the dark mouths, vanishing from sight. It was fast. In less then five minutes, all the naked inmates were gobbled up. “Suit the rest of them up,” the warden said. The three guards attending Nicholas brought forth a black rubber suit. “Put it on.” Nicholas had no choice. Being under the gaze of the tasers and stun guns, he had no chance to escape. They weren’t going to kill him if he tried. They would just disable him, then feed him to the whales anyway. He slipped into the suit. It was a very tight fit, with the rubber squeaking as it went over his skin. When it was on, he was then ordered to put on a pair of gloves, followed by rubber socks with sleeves for each of his toes. The very last thing put onto him was a thick, eyeless neoprene hood, which completely blinded him, and was then locked into place. Blinded, unable to see or feel where he was going, Nicholas struggled as he was held in place, the lube and lard being poured onto his suit, making him shine like the naked inmates. He wondered how Ann was doing, and how she was going to meet her end. Would she go struggling mightily, or face it with quiet dignity? From the faint screams he heard, she was going with a struggle. Nicholas and the other prisoners, with their bodies now slick and slimy, were grabbed and forced down the beach towards their hungry hosts. Blind, each could only put one step in front of another as they were mercilessly pushed and prodded. Then they reached the very edge of the water, and the guards shoved them. And like before, it was quick. The whales sprung forward, grabbed onto an inmate, maneuvered them into position, then gobbled them up, suits and all. Ann, as Nicholas suspected, went fighting and screaming, kicking as she was pulled into the gut of a whale feet first, her hands frantically grabbing onto it’s teeth, trying to hold in, even when her head and shoulders were already in it’s throat. But she couldn’t resist the relentless pull of the whale, and she was finally sucked in and gobbled up, her screams vanishing. Eventually, only Nicholas was left. He didn’t know this, but from the silence around him, he figured that the others had already been eaten. He could hear the breathing of the giant whale in front of him, and knew he was next. But unlike the others, Nicholas was tall and proud. Raised to become a don in his father’s crime family, he was taught to always be proud and noble, no matter what happened. And although he would never become who he had been raised to be, he would now go to his end, noble and proud. Shrugging his captors off, he walked down the surf towards the waiting whale, which watched him with interest. Normally it had to lunge forward to grab it’s prey, but this one was coming towards it, almost willingly, it seemed. Still blind, Nicholas reached out, until his hands landed on the orcas’s snout. Feeling around, he felt the mouth as it opened wide to greet him. Moving quickly, before the fear could get to him, he knelt, felt around the whale’s mouth, and then began to crawl inside, spinning over as he went. He felt the heat quickly grow as the giant tongue slid across his back, tasting the lubricant and the suit, but also the faint aromas of human flesh from beneath the rubber. It pulled him deeper in, until his head was pressed through a tight opening, and into a passage that was slick and slimy. From outside the orca, the guards watched as Nichoals’s body was gulped deeper and deeper into the orcas’s mouth. His legs were soon the only things showing, and his feet were kicking, as if he was having second thoughts about going willingly. But a few more gulps, and then only his feet were showing, and they had now gone still, even as the tongue reached up and curled around them, finally pulling them inside, the mouth snapping shut, as Nicholas was gobbled up. With their meals swallowed, the orcas began to shuffle their way off the beach, back into the water, where they turned around and swam out to sea, letting their stomachs go to work. ...

Vikki Rubbervixen is copyright her creator and used with permission. *** Vikki’s life came to an end while at work on a Monday. Mere minutes before she was going to die, she was scurrying into a small duct, dragging thick cables with her. “Vikki!” “Yes Diego?” “We’ll need to hurry this up. We got a full mile of these cables to thread through.” “On it,” Vikki called back, wiggling her way through the tight, coffin like enclosure of the duct. Her thick rubber body glove squeaked against the cables already laid down. With only seconds to live, Vikki squirmed onwards, wiping some of the sweat from her forehead, dreading how dirty her white fur was going to be at the end of the day. She was going to need a long, powerful shower with lots of hot water to wash out the gook and gunk. A few floors above her, one of Vikki’s co-workers, on his first day on the job, was busy maneuvering a heavy safe into its new office. Unfortunately, he was still unused to driving forklifts, and didn’t have the experience to safely move heavy items around. It was inevitable that when he came to an abrupt stop, the momentum sent the heavy safe teetering upon its platform, then off and onto the floor. Two tons of steel and iron tore through the floor, crashing into the room below, then crashing through that as well, its progress barely slowed as it continued on. Vikki heard the safe slamming down above her, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Then the safe hit the duct and went clean through, and the time for thinking was over. There was nothing but darkness. But that inky void only lasted a moment before a light appeared. But none of the panicking workers or supervisors saw it, or were even aware of it. Only Vikki, floating in the air, saw it. For a few moments however, she was too shocked to look at it, focused instead upon the crushed duct, and the safe that had come to a stop two stories below, her crushed body trapped underneath it, cables still clenched tightly in her dead fist. Staring at her body, Vikki was only able to say one thing. “Oh shit.” The shock only lasted a moment though, for then she was suddenly pulled into the light, going through what seemed to be a very long tunnel of light. Curious, she let the pull take her in, watching as she reached the end. The light faded, giving way to what appeared to be a world made of clouds. Looking around, Vikki tried to figure out where she was. Was this real? A hallucination perhaps? A last, desperate move by her brain to conjure a fantasy to make her last moments of existence pleasant? Looking down at herself, Vikki poked her rubbered chest. It moved. She tried pinching herself. It hurt. If this was a hallucination meant to make her happy, including pain would make no sense. The only conclusion she could come to was that this was really happening. This place was no illusion. There was a large gate nearby. Coming closer, Vikki saw that it looked like the tall, pearly gates she saw so often in cartoons and children’s books about an afterlife. It was almost too comical, actually seeing them. Yet, they were more awe inspiring than any book could ever hope to convey, for they towered over her, engraved and embedded with all manner of pearls, gems, and beautiful stones. Yet, Vikki couldn’t help but notice that, from the way the gates were constructed, it seemed that they were built to hold people in, rather then keeping them out. But still, she was curious. Just what was beyond those gates? There was a small desk in front of the gates. A human woman was sitting at it, taking some notes, humming to herself. She didn’t seem to notice Vikki. What was curious is that rather then a white robe, as Vikki would have expected, the woman was wearing glasses, a black leather bodysuit, with a matching trench coat worn over it. “Hello?” Vikki asked curiously. The woman looked up. “Could you please tell me where I am?” “The gates of the afterlife,” the woman said. Vikki noticed that she had a nametag. It read, “Elizabeth”. “Hello Elizabeth… so I take it I died?” Elizabeth nodded. “That would be a good guess. Let me bring up your file.” She turned to a computer and brought up a long list of data, scrolled through it. “Vikki RS1-2050. Died from being accidentally crushed while at work.” Elizabeth looked at the data more closely. “Curious… this says you’re a GELF, a Genetically-Engineered Life Form.” “Yes, I am. Er, was. One of the first, actually.” “Fascinating… I have yet to meet anyone like you before.” Elizabeth thought for a moment, as if caught in a trance. “Intriguing… I must learn more. But come, let us go in.” With a press of a button, the gates swung open. A mist emerged, masking whatever was beyond it. Rising from her desk, Elizabeth walked over, motioning for Vikki to follow. “Come.” Vikki nodded and obediently followed her. Walking into the mist, Vikki was most immediately struck by how thick it was. Even through the rubber suit, she could feel it press against her as she moved through it. “Where are we going?” She asked. “Heaven?” “Not quite.” Elizabeth said. “What do you mean?” “You will see in a moment.” Sure enough, the mist began to clear. It was becoming lighter, as if a powerful light was shining through it. Shortly after, it finally cleared, giving view to a landscape beyond. Vikki had been expecting something divine, fantastic, and beautiful beyond mortal comprehension. Instead, what she saw looked more like a tropical resort. It was a large land, similar to Hawaii, complete with numerous palm trees, lots of flowing grass, and beaches. The sky was overcast, clouds drifting lazily through, rain occasionally falling to the ground below. “Heaven looks a lot like Hawaii.” She said. “I do not know. Like I said, this is not heaven.” “Then what is it?” Vikki asked, curious. “I will explain as we go,” Elizabeth said, starting down a path. “Come.” Vikki wanted to look over this strange land, but she followed. “So what is this place?” “It began over a thousand years ago, by your reckoning of time. I died, and was taken to the gates of Paradise… only to discover that I was not allowed inside.” Elizabeth went slightly pale at the memory. “In addition to my own sins, the powers in charge had grown tired of the human race, with all our evil ways, so they were closing Paradise to the human race forever. Everyone, from that day on, was to head straight to the Inferno, no matter how righteous or evil they had been.” “So what did you do?” “I begged with them, and eventually made an offer. If they didn’t want humanity, I would take them. Give me a realm of my own, I said, and I’ll take humanity. They thought about it, then decided to grant me my request. I was given a realm to call my own, to rule as I see fit. So with that, all humans were entrusted to me. But there was a catch.” “What was it?” “I would be in charge of both punishment and reward for those who arrived. And virtually everyone, no matter how good they are, requires punishment for what they had done in life, from murders to stealing, to telling lies and even hitting each other.” “Even as kids?” “Even as little babes.” Vikki pondered what she had heard. “Seems awfully strict.” “Those were the terms.” Elizabeth said. “Punish humanity for what they have done, then do whatever you want with them afterwards. So I decided to create this place.” They had reached the end of the trail, and were coming up to one of the many groves of trees. They were much like the ones Vikki had seen on Earth. But she was surprised they weren’t more vibrant. “Why aren’t these more colorful?” She asked. “The true beauty of this place is in Paradise,” Elizabeth said. “This island is not meant to be too beautiful. It is meant to be a place of inner reflection.” “Speaking of which, where is everybody?” “Only new arrivals are here… them, and those suffering a light punishment.” “Light?” “My realm is divided into three areas. The island where we are now is what you would call Purgatory. The second Island would be the Inferno. The third Island is Paradise.” “Why did you create this place like that?” “I lived during the era of the Spanish Inquisition,” Elizabeth said. “I modeled this place after my own understanding. Of Purgatory and Paradise, I had to improvise, but the Inferno was all too easy to create.” “What do you mean?” Elizabeth thought for a moment. “I will tell you later. But for now, I must arrange for the latest crossing to the Inferno. There, you will be judged, and receive the appropriate punishments.” “And what are some of those punishments?” Vikki asked nervously. “There are all manner of punishments in this place, too many for me to count, for the human mind can come up with all manner of devilish means. But you will find out some of them soon enough. But while I prepare the boat, you must be restrained, for every individual here wears, at a minimum, a set of arm and leg cuffs, so that they don’t escape.” Reaching into the pockets of her coat, Elizabeth pulled out a set of handcuffs, leg cuffs, and a leather restraint belt. Vikki looked at the restraints, but didn’t object as Elizabeth knelt and clasped the leg cuffs around her ankles, cinching them tightly around her rubber suit. Standing, she took the belt in hand. “Raise your arms.” Elizabeth’s tone was firm. Vikki did so, looking down as the belt was wrapped around her waist and buckled down tightly, the large metal “O” positioned in front for the handcuffs to go through. “Arms down.” Vikki lowered her arms, offering them to Elizabeth, who took her left wrist and locked a cuff around it. “You are surprisingly calm about this.” Elizabeth remarked. “Were you sexually deviant in life?” Vikki blushed, her ears flicking. “Maybe a little.” For the first time, Elizabeth gave a smile. “I think I’ll enjoy meeting your kind here. You seen more interested in getting locked up then everyone else.” Elizabeth moved to put the other cuff on, but Vikki raised her hand. “Actually, could I?” It took a moment for Elizabeth to figure out what Vikki was talking about. She nodded, letting go. Vikki took the cuff and threaded it through the ring, then clasped it around her other wrist, locking it in place. Now restrained, Vikki patiently waited for whatever Elizabeth would order her to do next. It was a conditioned behaviour that had served her well in life and from what she’d heard so far, still applicable. “The process will not take long,” she said. “Until then, you may explore this place as you will. I will return for you when the time is right.” With that, she walked off, leaving Vikki to herself. Turning, Vikki looked around, trying to decide where to go. She eventually decided to head for the beach, to see what lay along the way. Starting down a path, she took her time, for the leg cuffs were doing their job of restricting her leg movement. There was a pleasant breeze as Vikki walked, the dim sun gently warming her rubber suit. Even if this was Purgatory, she wouldn’t mind enjoying this type of weather for centuries. With all the trees and greenery, this was a pleasant place to be. All that was out of place were the rubber covered people dangling from the trees. Vikki stopped, surprised. She did a double take and saw that, indeed, there were people dangling from the trees, hanging from vines wrapped around their necks. All were encased inside thick rubber sleep sacks. One of them, the lowest, saw Vikki. “New here?” He asked. “Doesn’t that hurt?” Vikki asked, concerned. The man shrugged. “Not really. It becomes a little annoying every now and then, but you get used to it. You don’t need to breathe, after all, when you’re dead.” Vikki nodded. “But what are you doing here?” “Doing my time. I was sentenced to one hundred years as a birdfeeder.” He indicated the small plates strapped to the bag, which had birdfeed in them. “It’s not bad, all things considered. Could be a lot worse.” “How so?” The man chuckled. “You really are new here. There are some guys buried in the beach who’ll be watching the tides come in and go out for a thousand years.” Vikki cringed. “Why so long?” “What’s one thousand years in light of eternity?” Pondering the statement, Vikki peered up at the others swaying in the breeze, noticing something. “Why is everyone so young?” She asked. “You all look like you’re… ” “Thirty? Well, everyone turns thirty when they come here. Peak of health, or something like that. You won’t see any old people here.” A few birds flew over, landed on the plates and began to peck away at the food. “Oh, could I ask you a favor?” “Yes?” “A buddy of mine named Jerry is down at the graves. Could you go and say hi to him for me?” Vikki nodded. “Of course.” “The name’s Mike. Just tell him I said hi, and I haven’t forgotten that poker match we’re going to have.” Vikki nodded again. “I’ll let him know.” Mike smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate it. And pardon me for asking, but what exactly are you? You’re obviously not human.” “I’m a GELF. Genetically Engineered Life Form.” “Hmm… must have come after my time. Well, see you around then.” Vikki nodded, “Nice meeting you, Mike.” “The graves are to your left.” Mike added as she started off down the path. “Oh, thanks.” Turning left, Vikki left the trees and the living birdfeeders behind. Continuing down the path, Vikki passed a few other people, all restrained like her. She got numerous looks, all curious. It was apparent that nobody had ever seen anything like her. “Of the hundreds of us made, could I possibly be the first to have ‘bought it’?” However, Vikki soon discovered a problem. There were numerous graveyards around this place, each one containing many graves, from which people were buried standing up, their heads sticking out of the ground. Finding one individual could take a long time. Choosing a spot at random, she walked up to those buried there. “Excuse me? I’m looking for someone named Jerry. Have you seen him?” One of the people looked up at her. “Three rows down to the left.” “Thanks.” Leaving, Vikki followed the directions and ended at a large mass grave, where dozens of people were buried together, their heads turned so that they were looking down a hill towards the ocean and the endless horizon beyond. “Is there a Jerry here?” She called out. “Over here,” A voice said. Looking to the direction of the voice, Vikki found it in the black form of a mummified head, with only the face exposed, the eyes and the rest of the face hidden from sight. “Are you Jerry?” Vikki asked. “The one and only.” It was a surprise to see someone mummified and mostly buried like this, making Vikki loose her focus for a second, wondering what it must be like to be in such a predicament. “Did you have something you wanted to ask?” Vikki shook her head. “Sorry. Mike says hi, and that he hasn’t forgotten that poker match the two of you are going to have.” Jerry smiled. “Glad to hear his sense of humor is still going.” “How long are you going to be here?” Vikki asked. “Another twenty five years.” Jerry said. “Halfway there.” “Doesn’t it get boring?” A pause. “Well, sometimes. But we get new arrivals every day, so there’s lots of people to talk to.” “Sometimes too much,” another mummified head said. A second, wrapped up to his nose, rolled his eyes in agreement. “So, when did you get here?” Jerry asked. “Just an hour ago.” “So you haven’t been tried yet?” “No.” “Hmm… well, I wish you the best of luck. If you’re really lucky, you’ll come back here and join us.” “Why is that?” “Well, those who have light punishments, or those who accept what they’ve done and don’t try to fight it, often come back here to Purgatory. Those who have medium to heavy sentences, or just plan nasty people in general, stay on the Inferno.” Jerry shuddered. “I’m so glad I didn’t stay there. It’s a really horrible place.” Vikki thought for a moment. “What are some of the things they try you for?” “How kind you were, how charitable you were, goodwill, all that sort of thing. If you’re mostly good, you come back here. If not, then it’s off to the dungeons you go, and you’re not seen again for hundreds, maybe even millions of years. If you’re the worst of the worst… then you’re never seen again.” “Wait… are you saying that some people never get free?” Jerry shook his head. “No… some souls are going to be in those dungeons for the rest of eternity.” “But what do they do in there?” “I don’t know… but apparently Elizabeth likes to get creative.” Vikki was silent as she pondered the fact. “Anyway, thanks for giving the message. I appreciate it.” “Oh, no problem.” “See you around then.” He chuckled at his own joke. Vikki nodded as she turned and slowly waded out of the graveyard, careful not to step on those watching the ocean. *** For the next hour, Vikki wandered about Purgatory’s beach. She saw a few other restrained people like herself, as well as some others in heavier layers of restraints, dangling from trees, lashed to tree trunks, or buried in the sand. The thought that there were some souls out there who would never see the sun, or feel the water, was mortifying. She didn’t have time to ponder further, for Elizabeth emerged from the trees and walked to her. “Everything is ready.” “Judgment?” Vikki asked nervously. “Yes.” “I looked around a bit,” Vikki said. “You’re a good designer.” “You’re just saying that to try and impress me so I won’t be so hard on you.” “No, it’s not that. Really.” Vikki said, her shackles clinking as she spread her hands in emphasis. “Don’t feel bad. Everyone tries that.” “I’m not trying to impress you,” Vikki said. “I just like the way this place looks. It’s actually comforting that it resembles the living world so well. Also, I must say, I was impressed with all those graves up on the hill. Their situation was… interesting. It was also considerate of you to let the people watch the ocean.” Elizabeth seemed surprised at the praise. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. But come, it is time to go. The Inferno awaits.” *** The trip across the ocean was quite fast. After going onto a huge sailing ship, Vikki joined her fellow prisoners in being bolted to the floor of the boat, watching as the island of Purgatory vanished from sight. “What if the boat sinks?” Vikki asked Elizabeth nervously, tugging at her chains. “It won’t.” Elizabeth assured her. “We have not had a single ship sink in all the time this place has existed, though I have consigned some souls to the ocean floor before.” Vikki went silent. They sailed onwards, the sky growing darker, the clouds thickening and blotting out the sun, creating the illusion of twilight. After what seemed like an hour after leaving Purgatory, they arrived at the second Island of the realm: the Inferno. It was a towering island of rock and sand, with a large volcano in the center, spewing ash and smoke into the sky. The only features on the hellish island was a huge, steel fortress, and numerous pyramids on the outskirts, some built and some in the process of rising from the ground. The boat came to a dock, where Vikki and the others were unlocked from the boat and led onto the shore. “Do not attempt to escape,” Elizabeth called out. “Attempting to do so will earn you an automatic sentence of five hundred years on the bottom of the ocean before being brought to judgment.” As they walked, Vikki looked around toward the pyramids, and more specifically, the ones being built. There appeared to be only one individual per pyramid, and that individual was dressed head to toe in black, shiny rubber, and locked up in cuffs. Sweat glistened over their outfits, making them sparkle under the merciless plume of heat and light radiating from the volcano. “Who are they?” She asked Elizabeth. “The worst of the worst. They are the souls that are totally corrupt, of which no amount of penance can save. They are to be locked away forever, and they build their own tombs before being sealed inside.” “How long does that take?” “A hundred years, without any breaks or moments of rest. The man you see has been working for fifty years. But in a way, you are lucky to see a rare event.” “What’s that?” “A pyramid has just been finished, and it’s occupants are about to be entombed.” Elizabeth looked towards the others. “Halt, and remain where you are. I will return momentarily.” The other souls stopped in place, nervously standing and waiting. “Come Vikki,” Elizabeth said. “Unless you wish to remain here.” Vikki’s curiosity and obedience were stronger than her call to conform. With barely a moment’s hesitation, she followed Elizabeth across the hot sands to a newly completed pyramid of stone. Two people encased head to toe in rubber were standing at its base, panting and wheezing from a hundred years of hard labor. “You both have done well,” Elizabeth said. “Now we must test to ensure that you did not build any escape tunnels inside.” Raising her hand, Elizabeth stared at the building, as if mentally scanning it. Once she was finished, she lowered her hand and regarded the pair once more. “Very well, it is structurally sound. You two know what must now be done.” Raising her hands, Elizabeth snapped them. Out of thin air, two pairs of armbinders appeared. The couple’s arms were quickly released from their cuffs, only to be yanked backwards as the binders applied themselves, quickly enclosing their arms and lacing them up tight. They were followed by heavy chastity belts, which promptly locked around the prisoner’s waists and groins, followed by pairs of very thick ankle cuffs, which replaced the weathered, rusted pairs the couple had been wearing. The last thing to go on each of them was a giant muzzle, which gripped their hoods tightly, latching themselves down. “It’s time for your burial,” Elizabeth said with a sinister grin. The two prisoners frantically struggled with renewed vigor, their whines, mews, and muffled yells silenced by the hoods and muzzles. “In you go,” Elizabeth said, raising her hands. “Unless you wish to bear the weight of more restraints.” Vikki watched, stunned, as the two prisoners reluctantly turned and started down a long corridor into the pyramid. Elizabeth followed, only to glance back at Vikki. “Are you coming?” Vikki reluctantly followed. They went deep into the heart of the pyramid, where a single room lay open and waiting. It was bare, built of solid concrete. There were no lights, no windows, nothing but the bare floor. The two prisoners were marched inside. A quick wave of her hand, and a thick ball and chain was added to the prisoner’s ankles. “Farewell.” Elizabeth said as the prisoners struggled in their restraints. “For the rest of eternity, you will have only yourselves for company.” With a single wave of her hand, she had the door - a giant, six foot thick block of granite, slide down, landing with a heavy thud. Vikki could hear the prisoners screaming from the other side. More and more blocks were placed in the passageway, sealing it even further. When Elizabeth and Vikki left the pyramid, one final block was put in place, and the structure was sealed forever. “Do not feel sorry for them,” Elizabeth said. “They were the genocidal dictators of a country in Africa, and brought untold suffering to millions of their own people. They were irredeemable. Their punishment is justice for all the pain they have inflicted.” Vikki only stared at the pyramid, stunned, yet strangely aroused as well. She could not help but feel pity for the people entombed inside… but the thought of wearing restraints for eternity was intoxicating. “We must continue onwards,” Elizabeth said. “Judgment awaits.” *** After rejoining the rest of the souls, the group continued on across the island, heading towards the fortress. The air grew warmer as they got closer to the fortress, yet Vikki wondered how this could be the building that judged all. If there were many people here, as Jerry had said, then how could this building hold them all? As they entered the building, Vikki was surprised to see that the only thing inside was a large, crude elevator, easily able to hold up to fifty people at once. Their group fit on easily enough, upon which Elizabeth flipped a switch. The platform went down, heading below the floor. Vikki’s puzzlement over the building’s size was answered in an instant. They had emerged into a cavernous chamber that stretched down for untold miles, the walls built from nothing but cages, coffins, tombs, and jail cells. From the ones she could see in, Vikki saw that each cage and cell contained an individual, some naked, some in chains, others in arm binders, some in straightjackets, and others wrapped head to toe as mummies. Every occupant appeared to watch as their platform descended deeper and deeper, its path lit only by torchlight. “Here lies the damned,” Elizabeth announced. “Most you see here will one day leave this place… but some never will.” Vikki looked towards a row of tombs and coffins, heard sobbing from inside each one. “Those who were previously in Hell were brought here, but every one of them shall remain locked up for all time, never to escape. Some of you will join them.” The platform came to a stop at a jutting walkway. Crosses lined the walkway, a soul crucified on each one in the many manners that Vikki had seen on the way down. And still, the chamber continued downwards, the bottom lost in infinite darkness. They went down the walkway, towards a large open room filled with individuals dangling from the ceiling, some upright, others upside down, all eyes watching the new arrivals. “Stand on the red square, and be judged,” Elizabeth said. At the end of the line, Vikki peered forward, wondering what horror they were to witness next. A soul at the front of the line nervously walked onto the square and stood, waiting. After a few moments, a scroll emerged from a slot in the wall. Elizabeth took it, and read from it. “Twenty five years in Purgatory.” She announced. The relieved soul walked over towards an open doorway, and headed through. Another soul walked forward and waited. Another scroll emerged. “One hundred years imprisonment in the inferno.” A chain shot down and latched a cuff around the soul’s neck, yanking her up into the darkness, her screams quickly vanishing. Another nervous soul walked forward, trembling. “Ten thousand years imprisonment in the inferno.” The chain returned and he was yanked upwards, vanishing from sight. And so it went, on and on, Vikki watching as each soul was given their fates. Most were going to go back to Purgatory, while a few would remain here for years, even centuries. Soon, there was only one soul left in front of Vikki, who was shaking violently as he stood on the square. A moment later, and his fate was pronounced. “Eternal imprisonment in the Inferno.” He tried to run, but a chain shot down, a manacle closed around his neck, and yanked the man into the ceiling, where he vanished from sight. Vikki was the only soul left. Elizabeth looked at her. “Come Vikki. Step on the square.” Vikki didn’t want to. Every instinct was telling her to run and get the hell away from this place. But she didn’t have a choice. She stepped on the square. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then her scroll appeared. Elizabeth took it, looked it over. Her face was blank, giving no clue as to what lay upon it. “Ten years in Purgatory.” She announced. She actually looked pleased with the announcement. Vikki breathed a sigh of relief, overjoyed at what her fate was to be. “Come,” Elizabeth said, indicating the door that would lead back to the surface. “It’s time to take you back. Because you seem to have a thing for rubber, as well as being a kink, I think I’ll seal you within a rubber doll and bury you in that graveyard. Does that sound good?” “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Vikki said with a nervous smile. “No, not really.” As they started towards the door, however, there was a bonechilling howl that echoed through the chamber as another parchment suddenly appeared. Elizabeth stopped, confused. “It’s never done that before.” “What?” Elizabeth walked up to the scroll, plucking it from its slot and rolling it apart to read. She was silent for several moments before shaking her head. “No… ” “What is it?” “It’s an override from the powers above. They’ve never intervened like this before.” Vikki felt her throat tighten. “What are they saying?” Elizabeth was quiet before she answered. “They’re saying that you’re not part of the original designs for the world… in their eyes, you’re an abomination that must be purged.” She went very quiet. “They’re ordering me to entomb you immediately… and that you will never be released.” Vikki’s gut tightened and she was suddenly unable to breathe. “What? But that… that’s not possible.” “I cannot defy the powers that be.” The color drained from Vikki’s face. “You mean… I’m going to be buried forever?” Elizabeth was silent. “No! This can’t be happening!” “I’m sorry Vikki. I really wish it didn’t have to be like this.” Vikki stared at her, panic building, threatening to overwhelm her. The chain descended, and Vikki felt the manacle closing around her throat. With a powerful yank, she was pulled up into the ceiling, and into darkness before she could even scream. *** When the darkness faded, and vision returned, Vikki saw a stone ceiling above her. She momentarily panicked, thinking that she had already been entombed. But after feeling movement on her body, she looked down and saw that she hadn’t. But she was well on her way. Vikki was lying on a stone table, the restraint belt and cuffs lying on the floor. Elizabeth was standing next to the table, working to wrap bandages around Vikki’s body. In a flash, Vikki realized what was going to happen to her. Like the ancient Egyptians of eras long past, she was going to be mummified and buried… only she was going to be alive when the lid of her sarcophagus was locked down. She instinctively started to struggle, but Elizabeth had done her work well. The bandages she had already wrapped around Vikki’s body contained her easily, and were effective at restraining movement. “I’m sorry about this,” Elizabeth said, not even looking up from her work. “But it must be done.” There was sadness in her voice. It was clear that Elizabeth didn’t like doing this. “Well… I’m sorry I panicked,” Vikki said. “I shouldn’t have.” “It’s natural for you to do so. Everyone does.” “I was created and raised to be obedient and submissive. Not to panic and run like a coward.” “Tell me,” Elizabeth said. “Why were you created?” Vikki shrugged… or tried to, as her arms were tightly restrained. “GELFs were created to be cheap, mass-produced, tailor-made servants for a variety of tasks. In my case, I was designed as an electrical infrastructure technician… mainly a fancy way of saying I crawled around and lay cables in walls.” “Is that what your rubber suit is about?” “Yes… it was specially grown and designed to bond with my skin.” “You mean you were supposed to keep it on all the time?” Vikki nodded. Elizabeth was surprised enough that she stopped the bandaging for a moment. “Then how did you relieve yourself?” “Our bodies were designed to produce very little waste. The little we do produce is converted somehow into nourishment for the rubber symbiote.” “So you were just a living toy?” “You could have said it more politely, but yes. All in all, life wasn’t too bad.” She looked down at her wrappings. “I just never imagined it would end this way.” Elizabeth was quiet as she continued Vikki’s mummification. “Life often goes in ways we cannot imagine.” “If I may ask… why the wrappings?” “I do this to most people who get buried here. It is my favorite form of restraining people. Only the most horrible get something else. Arm binders are an efficient way to make people’s arms sore, and if they can’t escape it, imagine how awful it must get over the course of an eternity.” Vikki was silent. “I wish I didn’t have to do this,” Elizabeth said. “Especially on someone who doesn’t deserve an eternal sentence.” “If I may ask,” Vikki said. “You told me that everyone gets punished. Were you ever punished for your sins?” “No, not yet.” Elizabeth said quietly. “Mine is two-fold. I have to watch over this place and administer it without a break until the entire human race enters. Only after humanity goes extinct will I be mummified and buried for eternity.” Vikki was stunned. “Why?” Elizabeth paused, trying to compose her thoughts. “In life, I was one of the Spanish inquisitors. My specialty was torture, to break people, no matter the cost. I was constantly learning new methods and practices to get results, and my cruelty brought me damnation everlasting. I deserved to suffer as I have made others suffer, even if it was a just punishment. Creating and ruling this place is only delaying the punishment, not stopping it.” Things went quiet as Elizabeth continued Vikki’s bandaging. For almost an hour she continued to wind the wrappings around the helpless vixen, sealing her inside an inescapable cocoon. When she was finished, only Vikki’s face was sticking out from the bandages. The rest of her body was covered and tightly sealed away. Looking down at herself, Vikki tried to move, but could only manage a faint wiggle, feeling the tightness of the bandages as they compressed down on her. But Elizabeth wasn’t finished. She pulled out a tub full of clear liquid and began to dip her hands in it, then rubbing the liquid over the wrappings. It took Vikki a few moments to realize what it was… resin. She was being coated in resin, which, when hardened, would make movement even more difficult, perhaps utterly impossible. The process went on for ten minutes, until all her wrappings were coated. Five minutes later, and the resin hardened, cracking slightly as it settled. A thick neoprene sleep sack was produced, and Elizabeth began to wiggle Vikki into it. With the bag being an almost exact fit, it was difficult to get her inside, but once she was, Elizabeth pulled the zipper shut, and buckled the thick collar down, locking Vikki inside another layer of restraint. Then came the belts. Lots of black leather belts were wound around Vikki and the bag, then slowly cinched together, squeezing and compressing her body even further. Vikki could only watch helplessly as she felt herself being compressed. But when the last belt was cinched over her breasts, it was done. Picking up another roll of bandages, Elizabeth hung it from a hook on her belt. She went towards Vikki’s head and began to push the stone tablet she was on, making it rise a few inches off the ground and allowing her to glide it across the floor. They went to the elevator and rose from the depths of the tomb, leaving the screams and the weeping behind, until they were finally in the fortress, and then outside once again, making their way towards a freshly constructed pyramid. “I decided that it would not be right to force you into making your own tomb,” Elizabeth said as they got closer. “So I created it for you.” As they approached Vikki’s pyramid, she began to breathe deeper and deeper, sweat forming on her forehead, knowing that this was a one way trip. Every second she was spending outside the pyramid was one of the last seconds she would ever spend seeing the outside world. Elizabeth stopped. “You know… there is no need for this place to be so depressing. We could make it a tomb fit for a queen.” She raised her arms and closed her eyes. Seconds later, lush greenery sprung forth from the desert around the pyramid, turning it into a beautiful oasis, lush with trees and cool water. But that wasn’t all. The pyramid itself was changing, the blocks shifting from granite into solid gold, making the pyramid shine and sparkle. It was hauntingly beautiful, and Vikki couldn’t take her eyes off it. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen, and it was awe inspiring, knowing that it was for her. Such an elegant tomb for someone who would only see it once. With the changes complete, Elizabeth began to push the table again, heading towards the entrance. She went slowly though, giving Vikki enough time to look around and get her last glimpse of the open, and the greenery around her. They reached the entrance. Elizabeth stopped, stood aside, allowing Vikki one last moment to look around. She did so, appreciating the gesture, trying to take in as much as she could about the sky, the clouds, the grass and the trees, trying to get them into her memory in as much detail as possible. Then the moment was over. Elizabeth began to slowly push the platform, and they went inside the pyramid. Vikki looked back for as long as possible, tears falling from her eyes. There was only a single tunnel inside the gold pyramid, and it went on for almost five minutes, until they reached an open chamber similar to the one the two prisoners had been sealed in. Like the pyramid itself, it was solid gold, but there was something that was different. There was a deep shaft at the back, just the right size for a sarcophagus to be lowered inside. “We have arrived.” Elizabeth said. “Your tomb.” “Pretty,” Vikki said, trying to be humorous, failing. “So… you’re just going to leave me here?” “No, you’re not like those two abominations entombed earlier. You will receive the burial of royalty.” She snapped her fingers. A solid gold coffin appeared. Another snap and a matching sarcophagus appeared. “So… I’m just going to be buried, and that’s it?” “Normally, yes. Buried and forgotten. But because you are a special case, I don’t believe you deserve that. I can never release you, but I can help make enduring this more bearable. Remember how you were initially going to do ten years?” Vikki nodded. “I will apply that to your sentence, so that after ten years, you’ll fall into a very deep sleep, one that you’ll never wake from. You’ll sleep forever, a fate that no one else has ever received.” Vikki felt a rush of relief. Even though she was never being released, at least she would, in a way, have an escape from her eternal burial. “But do not forget, you will still have to endure ten years of burial.” The cold realization snapped Vikki out of her relieved stupor. She watched as Elizabeth pulled the bandages off her belt and began to unwind them. “I’m sorry, but we have to finish wrapping you up.” “Before you do that,” Vikki said quickly. “I have a last request.” “Yes?” “I know this sounds odd… but could you line the interior of my coffin with rubber?” Elizabeth gave a faint smile, then waved her hands. The interior of the coffin was suddenly lined with slick, firm rubber. Reaching down, Elizabeth lifted Vikki up, letting her see the inside of her coffin. “Does that match what you want?” Vikki nodded, smiling. “Yes.” Elizabeth lowered her back onto the tablet, taking the wrappings in hand. Then, without a word, she began to wind the bandage around the vixen’s head. It was the part that Vikki had been most afraid of… .the final bandaging. She knew that in a manner of minutes, she was going to loose her sight forever. She would be encased completely, never to see, hear, or feel the warmth of touch ever again. She was afraid that she would panic, would struggle, would break down and beg for mercy. But she remembered her upbringing. She remembered how she had been bred and trained to follow orders without question, to be submissive, to be good and obedient, even when she was afraid. She would not let the fear get to her. Steeling her resolve, Vikki remained still and allowed Elizabeth to wrap her head. She did not resist as she was slowly wound up, inch by inch, the white fur of her face vanishing under the bandages, sealed away for all time. The bandages came to her mouth. Both knew what was coming next. “I’m sorry.” Elizabeth said. Vikki nodded. “I know.” She closed her mouth, and kept it shut as bandages were tightly wound around it. A few minutes later, and her muzzle was completely covered. Elizabeth then moved on, getting closer and closer to her eyes. It was obvious that she was trying to avoid wrapping them as long as possible, but sooner or later, she would have to cover them. Vikki, now silent, looked up towards Elizabeth, to the gold ceiling. She could just faintly see her own reflection in the shiny metal. It was the first time she had seen herself like this, and Vikki gave an involuntary shudder of pleasure at seeing herself so tightly wrapped up and bound as she was. There was a flicker of movement at the corner of her vision. The bandaging had reached her eyes. Elizabeth looked down at her, pausing. Their eyes looked at each other… the condemned and the executor. Leaning over, Elizabeth softly kissed Vikki’s forehead. Vikki, taking one last look upwards, saw the gold all around her… and Elizabeth’s soft, bittersweet face. She closed her eyes. Elizabeth wound the bandages over Vikki’s closed eyes. She did the job quickly, wrapping over them several times, until they were firmly in place. With the first layer done, she proceeded to wrap Vikki’s head again, this time with an additional four layers of bandages, making each roll tighter and tighter then the last, until the vixen’s head was squeezed and compressed under the wrappings. Being dead, and thus not being able to breathe, Vikki had no worry of suffocating. When the last bandage was tied down and glued in place, Elizabeth looked at Vikki’s head. She then pulled out a neoprene hood to match her sleep sack, and fit it on, covering the bandages. It was a very snug fit, with no holes for eyes, mouth, ears, or nose. That was followed by interlacing the hood with the rest of the sack, then buckling the two together, ensuring that Vikki was truly locked inside. Vikki’s chest just barely rose and fell within her restraints. She was breathing very deeply, no doubt trying not to panic. Standing, Elizabeth took the tablet and moved it next to the coffin. Then she leaned over and took the sack in her arms, lifted Vikki up and wiggled her over to the coffin. She was surprised to feel Vikki shifting, actually trying to help make the job easier, to assist in her own burial. Elizabeth was touched by the gesture, amazed that the vixen would do such a thing, rather then struggling to escape. Such high character deserved to be rewarded. Elizabeth held the encased vixen close to her, squeezing her tightly in a hug, stroking and kissing her. It was a gift to Vikki… the last, warm touch she would ever know for eternity. Elizabeth felt Vikki relaxing underneath her hug, going limp. It was on that note, that she gently shifted and lay Vikki inside her coffin, the rubber interior squeezing against her body, creating a form fitting cradle. A few belts were strapped down across the body, then cinched tightly, locking Vikki down even further. Moving quickly, Elizabeth took hold of the gold lid, lowered it onto the coffin. But she went slowly, watching Vikki’s form as long as she could, as she was swallowed by darkness, inch by inch. Then the lid was on. The latches were clasped and locked, sealing Vikki inside forever. Elizabeth floated the coffin into the air and maneuvered it into the sarcophagus, of which the rubber lining ensured a snug fit. But that wasn’t enough, for Elizabeth had to be thorough, or risk the wrath of the powers that be, by not taking enough precautions. A tub of resin was produced, and gallon after gallon was poured into the sarcophagus, burying the coffin until it was little more then a gold haze under four feet of the liquid. The lid to the sarcophagus was taken and placed on, then latched and locked down as well. Resin oozed out, dripping down the side of the sarcophagus, dropping onto the floor. Elizabeth wiped it away, not wanting Vikki’s encasement to be sloppy, for it had to be clean and pristine. There wasn’t much left to be done now. All that remained was to bury Vikki for good. To that end, Elizabeth moved the sarcophagus towards the deep shaft in the back of the room. It was quite deep, and was cut so exact, that the sarcophagus fit it like a glove. When she pushed it in far enough, it fell, plunging down the shaft with a loud whoosh, shoving air upwards as it shot down, vanishing into the depths. It would continue on, until the shaft became tighter, slowing it, eventually bringing it to a gentle stop. Elizabeth conjured several long hoses that purged cement. With fifty of them going at full bore, she poured concrete into the shaft, millions of gallons worth, filling it up until the liquid came to a stop at the very top of the shaft, whereupon she smoothed it out until there was no sign that a shaft had ever existed. She looked at the spot for the longest time. Deep down, Vikki was lying in state, entombed. To even try and dig her up would be impractical, if not impossible. It was with a heavy heart that Elizabeth left the room. Giant stone slabs, each weighing thousands of tons, were put inside, blocking up the entrance. As she walked out of the hallway, stone after stone thundered into place, cracking the ground, each one ensuring that it would take hundreds, if not thousands of years to cut through. She reached the exit, and the largest stone of all fell into place, sealing the pyramid up forever. It was done. *** Elizabeth knew she had other people to process, new arrivals who had to be judged and sentenced, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. For hours she stood, watching the pyramid, Vikki’s elegant crypt. It was the most beautiful tomb that would ever be built. None would even come close, Elizabeth would ensure that. Like all others, Vikki had done wrong, and she had to be punished. But she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve an eternal sentence for the simple fact that she wasn’t human. The vixen was inside, sealed away forever. She would never know Paradise, never know anything but darkness and silence within her cocoon. In a way, her brief life had been a fraud. Her true existence was one of restraint. For the rest of eternity, even when time itself died, Vikki would continue on, sealed away and immobile, never to be released. A sobering thought. Still, Elizabeth could at least console herself with the thought that once ten years had passed, Vikki would fall into an endless sleep. She would be spared the effects of being locked in a tiny space and knowing that it was forever. Those ten years would be hard… but brief, in the eyes of eternity. Then again, perhaps Vikki might enjoy it. She had never mentioned it to Elizabeth, but she knew that Vikki had been into mummification and encasement. All that data had been in her personal file, how many hours she had spent in both situations while still alive. And now, in her last ten years of awareness before the eternal sleep, she was going to get the ultimate experience, the fantasy to end all fantasies. To be mummified and entombed… forever. Perhaps, while sending her to hell, Elizabeth had given her a taste of heaven. And in the end, that was the best gift she could give. Turning, Elizabeth walked away, leaving the golden pyramid to sparkle in the fires of the Inferno.

This story was an entry into the 2010 Winter Fetish Story Contest The massive city twinkled in the night like a Christmas tree. To an observer, it looked like a steel painting of well designed buildings and architectural perfection, as if humanity had reached the peak of their technological triumph. Had an observer gone down to street level however, they would have been surprised to see how the residents were different from their city. ...

Based on an idea by EricJP65 *** By the end of the twenty second century, humanity had made much progress in its evolution, both ethically and technologically, but there was still one thing that had yet to be overcome…the inevitability of death. And so it was that the earth’s largest kingdom went into mourning for their ruling queen, who had recently passed away of old age. But even amongst the mourning, protocols were followed. The queen’s successor, her daughter Tanya, was quick to follow the duties expected of her. Like the others, she mourned, but only for two days. The remaining five days of mourning would, for her, be spent deep beneath the palace, in chambers that the public never went to, or even knew about. At midnight on the second day, Tanya went to the lowest level of the palace, where a gilded elevator awaited her. Instructing the royal bodyguards not to follow, she entered and descended deep into the earth, going far below the palace and into the catacombs. When the elevator came to a stop, she exited into a giant chamber, where a pair of giant gates stood in silent vigil. Her mother had walked this way. Before dying, her last act was to head down here and go through these doors, a fact that only Tanya and the highest ranking officials knew. But as to what lay beyond those gates, Tanya didn’t know. But she would soon find out. Taking an ornate steel key, she inserted it into the door and turned three times, then pushed it, hearing the tumblers moving and shifting. Then the doors slid open, allowing her passage. Taking a deep breath, she walked inside, the gates closing behind her. Beyond the doors was another hallway. The light here was dim and it was difficult to see. Not only was she walking through the dark, Tanya had no idea what lay down here. She knew that each ruler of her family went through her, but she had never been told what was down here, that she would find out in due course. She cautiously walked onwards, not knowing what to expect. Daughter of the royal crown. Tanya froze. “Who’s there?” Please come forth. The voice was in her head. It wasn’t from anyone or anything Tanya had heard…it didn’t sound human. But there was something in it, a knowing and sense of benevolence that she hadn’t encountered before. Cautious, but curious, she continued on. She reached the end of the hallway. There was a great chamber there, the blue marble walls stretching high to the ceiling. There was no floor here, only a deep pool of dark blue water that seemed to glow. Tanya looked around, searching for the source of the voice. The waters began to bubble. Something rose from them, large and black, its skin as shiny as rubber. It was something monstrous, and not like any animal Tanya had ever heard of. She was so caught by surprise that she felt afraid, and was about to turn and run. Please, do not run. I mean you no harm. Trying to control her rapidly beating heart, Tanya faced the creature. She had a better view of it now. It looked like a giant mound of pulsing, black rubber, as if its muscles were moving rapidly, unable to stop. Large tentacles were stretching out, grasping the walls. “You are the voice?” That is correct. “Who…what are you?” My name is unimportant. I came to your planet centuries ago. Your ancestors discovered me, and built this temple around my form. Despite the monstrous appearance, Tanya found herself getting more interested in this being, rather then fearing it. “Why are you here?” My race believes that the purpose of our lives is to acquire as much wisdom and knowledge as possible. I came to this planet to learn more about it, and determined that the best way to do this was to acquire the knowledge and experience of this planet’s rulers. In that manner, for the past several centuries, I have been receiving and giving the combined knowledge and wisdom of your ancestors. “I don’t understand.” At the end of their lives, your ancestors came here and offered themselves to me. I took their bodies and absorbed their minds, learning all I could about their knowledge, experiences, and wisdom. When their successors came, I took them within myself and transferred the same knowledge and wisdom to them, allowing them to rule with the gathered wisdom of their ancestors. This, in turn, allows them to rule more wisely, and to gain more wisdom from their experiences, which enriches me. “So…I am to be the next successor?” That is correct. It is an arrangement I have maintained with your family, and you will be its newest recipient. “What do I have to do?” A few black tentacles emerged from the water, snaking towards Tanya, rubbing themselves around her legs. The process of transferring knowledge and wisdom requires complete absorption of the individual. I must take you within me. “You’re joking, right?” While I appreciate the value of humor, no, I am not. “So…how exactly does this work?” The process takes five days. Regrettably, it will destroy most types of clothing, including your dress. “Oh.” Realizing what she had to do, Tanya hesitantly started to take off her clothes. Do not be ashamed of your body. It is natural. “In case you haven’t noticed, going around nude isn’t very well accepted in my country.” With a final tug, she pulled off the rest of her clothes, standing naked before the creature, arms instinctively covering her most sensitive areas. It has been programmed into your mind to be ashamed of being nude. “Thanks for pointing that out.” Are you ready for the process to begin? More tentacles began to rise from the creature’s body, moving towards Tanya. “Will it hurt?” There will be no physical pain, but you may experience mild discomfort. “And my mother went through with this?” Yes, as did your father, and their parents before them. Tanya figured that if they could do it, then she could too, especially if the good of her kingdom depended on it. Duty called, sot so peak. “Very well.” She said, nodding. The tentacles moved up and around her body, coiling around her waist, arms, and legs, gently restraining her. They lifted her off the ground, moving her over the water, and over the mass of writing rubber. Below her, a large hole appeared in the black mass, revealing what looked like a throat that led deep into unknown depths. Tanya gulped, but did not resist as the tentacles lowered her towards it. Two larger tentacles came out of the hole and wrapped themselves around her body, tightly restraining her, yet not uncomfortably so. The smaller tentacles released their hold as Tanya was taken down into the throat, which promptly sealed itself behind her. For the next five days, there was silence in the chamber, save from water gently lapping around the massive creature occasionally shuddering. At the end of the last day, the hole opened once again. An exhausted Tanya was hoisted up and out of the creature, her hair wet and slick, sticking to her tired face. The larger tentacles transferred her to the smaller ones, which carried her back to firm ground, where they laid her down, then gently released her, slipping back into the water. Tanya stared up at the ceiling. “Wow.” Her mind felt like it was going to burst from all the information that had been transferred. There were no individual memories per se, but all the experiences and knowledge of her ancestors now resided within her. She felt different…smarter and wiser. It was a thrilling experience. “That was…amazing.” I am pleased you enjoyed it. Tanya’s groin was still pulsing from the tendrils that had inserted themselves inside her, as did her ears, mouth, and nose. But the pleasant afterglow from the experience lingered, giving her a wonderful feeling of euphoria far better then any sex she had ever had. “Can we do that again sometime?” She asked. You are not the first to ask. “Everyone else asked for it?” Correct. My species rewards individuals who submit their knowledge with feelings of extreme pleasure. It is useful in convincing them to return to us again and again. “You sound like a drug dealer.” A fair observation. But think of it more like symbiosis. My kind receives knowledge and wisdom, and in return we give the same back to those who submit to us, as well as pleasure. It is a mutually beneficial relationship. Tanya grinned. “Works for me.” The euphoria you are experiencing will last for one week, upon which it will fade. If you wish, we can do this again once every year, to pass along all that you have learned. “For the rest of my life?” Yes. And on the last time, you will be absorbed, to experience a year of pleasure as a reward for your efforts. Tanya grinned. Suddenly, this seemed like a very beneficial relationship. But do not forget that you are being entrusted with this information so that you may rule wisely and efficiently. A fair exchange, Tanya thought. You must to return to the palace, The being said. Your subjects await you. Rising, Tanya dressed, looking at the being fondly. “You sure we can’t do this every night?” You would become addicted to the pleasure, rather then focusing on your duties. “True enough.” Finally dressed, Tanya turned and headed back towards the exit. We shall meet again Tanya. Tanya smiled. “I look forward to it.”

Based on an idea by Abrank *** “It is the decision of our high priest that, for their safety, these women are to be buried at sea. We shall now carry out his will.” The four women stood on the deck of the ship, trying to keep their balance as the vessel bobbed amongst the waves like a child’s toy. Their limbs shackled and restrained, they were helpless to stop the nuns, who descended upon them. A short distance away, locked in a cage, Sanshi watched as her fellow virgins were prepared for a burial at sea. “How does it feel?” The high priestess asked her. “Knowing that within the hour, you will all be at the bottom of the ocean?” Sanshi put her head up high. “I would take ocean’s embrace over your draconian institution any day.” The guard scowled, twisting his grip on the stick. On deck, the young women were being freed from their cuffs and stripped naked, forced into thick, white wetsuits, upon which the zippers were padlocked shut, trapping them inside. Arm binders were produced, which their arms were forced into and then strapped down with numerous belts, their legs cuffed back together, restraining them once again. “Why not just throw us in and get it over with?” Sanshi demanded. “The act of burial is a complicated matter,” the priestess said, eyeing the procedure before her. “We must prepare these women, yet remind them that this is punishment for betrayal of trust. Your trust.” Sanshi looked away, scowling. “Do not forget Sanshi, it was your act of lust that has decided the fates of these women. They were under your care. And when you broke your vow of chastity, we have to protect them from being corrupted.” “By murdering us?” “By ensuring that they will pass from this world while still pure and untainted by the carnal desires.” On the deck, the other nuns were busy outfitting the virgins with additional restraints, including thick muzzles that covered and filled their mouths. But the women did not struggle. They had been well trained by the faith, and would not struggle, even in the face of oblivion. Sanshi cursed as thick hoods were pulled onto the heads of her charges. They had been quiet and defiant during their preparation, but when the hoods went on, blinding them, they began to squirm and mew, realizing that they would never see the sun again. “Monsters!” Sanshi spat. “You would do well to watch your tongue,” the nun said. “This is your own doing. This is justice.” “This is cruelty!” “You are all getting what you deserve. Nothing more, nothing less. It is what our priest, and our faith, decree.” The women were struggling as belts were strapped around their legs, immobilizing them even further. Their slick white suits glistened in the sun as they were picked up and carried towards the edge of the ship, where giant blocks of cement awaited. Within each block was a long chain, to which a pair of manacles were attached. Each woman’s feet were placed within the manacles, which were then locked shut. Despite their refusal to show fear, the women began to whimper, knowing what was coming. “Are they ready?” The priestess called out. The guards nodded. The cage door was opened and Sanshi yanked out, struggling in her cuffs as she was marched to the end of the stern. “You will watch your charges go to the deep,” the priestess said. “A thousand yells in hell for you!” Sanshi snarled. Ignoring her, the priestess looked towards the other prisoners. “Send these pure virgins to their graves.” One by one, the henchwomen were taken to the edge of the ship and tossed overboard. They plunged into the water, immediately sinking from sight. Each one struggled for all they were worth as they were tossed to the sea, and then claimed by it. The last virgin was finally tossed over, splashing into the water before sinking beneath the waves, vanishing from sight. “The burial is almost complete,” the priestess said. “Prepare Sanshi.” Sanshi fought as she was grabbed by the nuns, but she was helpless, surrounded by too many of them to fight off. They tore off her virgin’s dress, leaving her naked. Like her charges, she was forced into a slick rubber suit that was two sizes too small, sticking to her like glue. But unlike her charges, Sanshi was going to head to her watery grave in a different set of restraints. Once she was sealed in her suit, Sanshi watched in horror as the nuns pulled out a thick neoprene sleep sack, also two sizes too small. She kicked and struggled as she was forced into it, her arms and legs going into the internal sleeves. The zipper was pulled up and locked shut, sealing her inside. She struggled, trying to get free even as belts were wrapped around the sack and buckled shut. Escape was impossible now, but she continued to fight, defiant to the end, refusing to go quietly. She was hoisted to her feet, still struggling as the guards brought, of all things, a scuba tank and forced the mouthpiece in. It tasted horrible, for it was covered with a fast acting glue that quickly took hold. “Such a defiant one,” the priestess said as the air tank was strapped to Sanshi’s chest. “Truly, if you had focused your energy on your studies, you would have gone so far. Instead you wasted it by having sex with an outsider. Now you will end your days here, and the corruption you brought will be buried with you.” Sanshi scowled, trying to curse behind the thick mouthpiece that plugged her mouth shut. “Because your sin was mortal, your punishment will be more severe,” the priestess said as the engines of the boat roared to life. “The virgins were buried in shallow waters, where their bodies will become one with nature. But your grave will be much deeper.” Sanshi glared at her, wanting to throw a few curses at her priestess. “Your grave will be further out, where you will be buried at the very bottom of the ocean. You will be given an air tank, so that you will spend an hour contemplating your crime, and the fact that you will spend eternity in darkness, your name recorded in everlasting shame.” The boat stopped. Sanshi was picked up and carried to the back of the boat, much as her own charges had been carried. But there were no cement blocks waiting for her. Instead, there was a large rock that had been attached to a crane ever since they had left the dock. It was lowered towards her, a single large cuff chained to it. Sanshi watched in horror as the guards took the cuff and locked it around her sack, ensuring a tight fit. “Farewell Sanshi. With your burial, the sin you brought to our faith will come to an end.” The crane moved the giant rock away from the deck. Helpless, Sanshi fell to the deck, wiggling furiously as she was dragged off the ship, dangling above the water, watching as the guards and the priestess watched her. She tried to scream at them, to curse their names and the day she had joined with them. The rock was released. It plunged into the water, dragging Sanshi with it. Her last sight of the world above was the ship, and those glaring down at her. Then the water covered her face, and she was pulled under. Once under the surface, the rock began to plunge quickly, Sanshi helpless to stop it as she was dragged along. Her eyes darted about, stinging in the water, as she watched the water get darker and darker. High above, the boat was already becoming hazy and hard to see. Helpless, she watched the dark blue of the ocean surface fade to black as the rock plunged ever deeper into the depths of the Indian Ocean, taking her with it. Soon…all was dark, and Sanshi knew nothing but her pounding heart, and the ice cold chill of the water surrounding her. Loosing track of time, it was a shock when she hit the bottom, the rock embedding itself into the mud and muck. She floated from it, helpless, bubbles of air seeping from her mouth, but she couldn’t see it. Thrashing, Sanshi tried to get free, but she had no such luck. The manacle around her ankles was solid steel. There was no way to free it. The awful realization made her rock back and forth in despair… until she hit something. Startled, Sanshi wiggled again, trying to figure out what she had it. Whatever it was, it’s surface was rough and coarse… and it suddenly struck her that if she could get the zipper on the infernal sack caught on the surface, she might be able to wiggle it undone, slip out, get rid of the manacle, and swim to freedom. It was a desperate plan, but it was all she had. Wiggling, she moved as quickly as she could, trying to get the zipper to catch. But it was harder then she thought. The zipper wouldn’t catch. Thrashing as much as her restrained body would allow, she tried again. The zipper caught. It was only for a moment, but Sanshi’s momentum was enough to pull it down half an inch. Encouraged by her success, Sanshi tried again. But she could feel the air leaving the tank much quicker then she had imagined. Her panicked efforts were going to suck air out faster then if she was still. But that only forced her on to greater efforts… whether she would live, or die, she had to try. Deep down in the dark depths of the ocean, Sanshi fought, alone… her fate uncertain.

The face of the news reporter fills the television screen. It takes him a few moments to compose himself and wipe the sweat from his brow. “Good evening. It’s been five years since meteor Alvin five six was discovered. By all accounts, all experts predict that it will impact the earth sometime tonight, approximately around six. Due to its close proximity to earth, the meteor will be visible for the remainder of the day.” The newscaster looks at the camera, his skin pale. Like so many others, months of dread have taken its toll, aging him prematurely. “The majority of rioting and mayhem have stopped, as most of humanity appears to have resigned itself to our imminent end. From reports we have gotten from our reporters who haven’t fled to be with their families, the majority of earth’s people have gathered together with their loved ones.” He pauses again, trying to gather himself. “We will continue to report on this matter as long as possible.” You look at the screen quietly, lowering the remote. You’d turn down the volume, but all you can do is stare at the screen. By this time tomorrow, you will have ceased to exist. You will be no more. Having passed from history, you, and every other human being on planet earth, will have been destroyed, reduced to your most basic elements. Within twenty four hours, the earth as you know it will come to an end. You find it ironic that all your senses suddenly feel more acute. You can feel the air moving across your skin. You can hear your heart pounding within your chest, continuing its endless quest to keep you alive. Even now, in the face of imminent doom, it continues on, not caring about what’s going to happen. Beyond the windows, you can see that the street is empty. Nobody is out, but that does not surprise you. Most people are at home, spending the last hours of their lives together with loved ones. But you’re home alone. No family, no friends, for you’ve lost all contact with them months ago, when the asteroid was first detected. You tried finding them, but they were nowhere to be found. After the riots and the looting, the mass mayhem and death, you lost all hope of ever seeing them again. And now, here you are, alone, and less then ten hours away from the end. It’s a sobering thought, but even as you think it, you realize that you don’t want it to end this way. You don’t want to have it end here, alone in the house. You start to think. Where do you want to go? With most of the people in their homes and with families, where’s your best option for finding anyone? The beach, you think. There’s always people at the beach. You’ll go there. It’s not easy to leave the house you’ve spent so much time in. But it’s empty now. There’s no reason to stay. In light of what’s going to happen, the countless hours you spent paying it off and decorating the place seems like a laughable waste of time. Going outside, you head to the car and get inside, turn the engine on, and head off down the streets, leaving the house, your home, and the neighborhood behind. The streets are all but empty. A few people are scattered here and there, walking about, most hand in hand. The stores are deserted. The malls, the post office, all are empty. The movie theater is playing a few films, all for free for whoever wants to come. A few restaurants are open, refusing to close in the face of Armageddon. A few people are inside them, enjoying a last meal. You continue your drive, heading out of town, leaving the city behind. There’s nobody on the freeways, save a few vehicles frantically driving somewhere, perhaps people trying to reach their families before the end. You keep going. The buildings and the skyscrapers begin to vanish as you head further out into the country. The mountains and hills become flatter, and the smell of salt is potent in the air. It isn’t long before you finally see the ocean ahead. Pulling into a parking lot, you park the car and leave it unlocked, with the keys still in the ignition. You walk out of the lot and onto the sand, heading towards the water’s edge. The beach is surprisingly crowded with people, more then you can ever recall seeing here before. Apparently, lots of people had the same idea you did. What better place to see the end of the world then the beach? As you look at the families, the couples, and the others sitting on towels, standing, and even building a few sandcastles, you glance at the beach houses. The balconies are full of people watching the sky and the setting sun. But one of them seems busier then the others. Curious, you walk towards it to investigate. As you get closer, you’re surprised and shocked to see two women dangling from a balcony, both in what look like skin tight sleepsacks. They’re hung from beams, swinging in the breeze, and from the occasional man and woman coming out to playfully swing them around. But the women don’t seem to mind. In fact, it looks like they’re enjoying it. This has gotten your curiosity. What exactly is going on there? Quickly leaving the beach, you head around to the front of the house. There are a few cars parked there, and you can hear the sounds of soft music inside. From the looks of things, a party is taking place. But exactly what type of party, you’re not sure. Walking up the steps, you ring the doorbell. Several moments pass before it’s opened. A man stands before you, dressed head to toe in tight, black rubber. He looks you over curiously. “Oh hello. Do you have an invitation?” It takes you a moment to realize that you know this man. “Richard?” It’s a moment before he recognizes you. “Oh my gosh! What are you doing here?!” You’ve known Richard and his wife Cathy for only a few years, mostly due to the fact that every now and then, the two of them renting out local clubs for their most extravagant parties…some kinkier then others. They’ve been play partners with you, but in light of the meteor, you had completely forgotten about them. “That’s just what I was going to ask you.” “Didn’t Cathy ever tell you we had a beach house?” “No.” “Well now,” he says, smiling. “Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Since we know you,” he winks, giving a devious smile. “You don’t need an invitation.” “Invitation?” you ask. “To our end of the world sex party.” You hear a woman’s voice calling out from somewhere inside the house. “Richard! Who’s there?” “Come see who showed up!” A woman comes to the front door, wearing a multi-layered, black rubber dress. “Well hello there sweetie!” She says, taking your hand and kissing it. “I see you’ve come to join our little party!” “I didn’t even know there was one,” you say sheepishly. “I just saw those two out back and I…” “Oh, Jenny and Jackie. Yeah, they asked to be put like that,” Cathy says with a grin. “Happy to oblige. Oh dear, where are my manners? Come in, come in!” She holds the door open. With nothing much else going on, you head inside. The interior of the beach house is quite a sight. The walls are covered in black, shiny rubber, with the shag carpet beneath your feet colored solid black. Even the couches, the pillows, the chairs, all are covered in black rubber. This is a rubber lovers paradise, no doubt about it. But what’s more interesting are the people inside. There are only about six or so, a few dressed in rubber, others wearing all manner of restraints and cuffs. A few people are wearing what look like full, armless, body straightjackets. Two people lie on the couches, wrapped head to toe in bandages like mummies, wiggling and squirming as rubber covered people stroke and hug them, stimulating them sexually. Out on the back porch, you can see the two women slowly dangling in the breeze. “We weren’t expecting you, but since it’s the end of the world, who are we to turn others away? We’ve got plenty of gear that can fit you…let’s see, I think you’re a medium if you’re looking for a straightjacket to wear.” “Wait, wait, wait, straightjacket? What are you talking about?” “This is our end of the world fetish party! My hubby and I figured that with the end of the world so close, why not share our toys and let other people have some fun? Or even better, let them experience their most secret desires! Want to be in bondage for the rest of your life? We can do it!” She says with a laugh. “Jenny and Jackie want to spend the rest of their lives in a sleepsack and suspended outside, so we’ve granted their wish!” “Okay…” “Oh, don’t be so surprised sweetie. If you’ve only got a few hours left to live, why not spend it doing what makes you happy? If I remember right, you were quite the kinky one at some of our parties. Remember that night with the sleepsack?” “Uh…yeah,” you say, blushing. “You’re welcome to join us if you want, and we’d be more then happy to accommodate you. Tell me, are there any fantasies you’ve always wanted to have done?” “Not trying to be offensive or anything, but isn’t this a bit…much?” “Oh come now! Let loose! Have some fun! Now, if you want to go to a church and sing songs for the last few hours of your life, you’re welcome to. But Richard and I are going to go out with a bang, doing what we love, and sharing it with everyone else!” You think for a few moments. There really isn’t anywhere else you can think of going…and to be truthful, the idea of staying here is actually an interesting one. The house is giving off an aura of pleasure, warmth, and happiness. This wouldn’t be such a bad place to stay, all things considered. And though you blush just thinking about it, the chance to have some of your deepest fantasies fulfilled is incredibly tempting. With the world coming to an end, what do you have to loose? “Well…” you say. “I have always liked the feel of rubber…” “Perfect! We’ve got rubber catsuits, straightjackets, hoods, armbinders, and sleepsacks. What would you like to try?” You think. “The catsuit sounds good…” “Richard, go get one of the spares please.” Ten minutes later, and your normal clothes lie on the ground in a heap. You now wear a skin tight rubber catsuit that shines and glistens, even more so with Cathy coating it with a slick lube. “You really don’t have to do that,” you say, blushing. From the way she’s moving, you would think Cathy is getting you ready for an orgy. “Oh, we want this nice and shiny.” She says, slopping more on and rubbing it around. “That’s the way rubber is supposed to be! There! All shiny!” You look down at yourself. It’s so surreal, seeing your skin replaced with shiny rubber. From the tips of your toes to your fingers, only your head is uncovered. You rub a rubber covered finger over your tummy, feeling it slide effortlessly across the rubber, leaving a streak in the lube. “Do you…uhh…” “Come on sweetie, no need to be shy.” “Do you…have anything thicker?” “Of course we do!” She reaches into a closet, rummages for a few moments, then pulls out an identical suit, only half an inch thick. “This what you’re looking for?” “Y…yeah, that’s it.” You quickly slip into it, the slick lubricant making it easy to slide the second suit over the first. When it’s on and zipped up, you can feel the suits squeezing themselves against you, compressing themselves tightly. It’s an intoxicating feeling, to say the least. “You like this, don’t you?” Cathy asks with a smile. “I can see it on your face…it’s that look someone gets when their dreams are coming true. Learned to recognize it from Richard.” “Honey!” “What? I’m just telling the truth!” You listen, but don’t really care. They can continue squabbling if they want. You’re just enjoying the moment. You feel silly doing this, but even then, those feelings are starting to fade. You’re enjoying this far too much to feel silly. “Hmm…you want something more, don’t you?” Deep down, you know that this is a ridiculous way to spend the last few hours on Earth, but you don’t care. Lust easily overwhelms you, driving you to focus on nothing but what you feel. It whispers to you, reminding you of all the other things you’ve wanted to try, but couldn’t, for one reason or another. Perhaps this is the perfect time to try and fulfill those deepest fantasies, the ones you’ve always wanted, but never even imagined coming true, not in your wildest dreams. “Yes,” you say, feeling bolder. “There is something I’ve always wanted to try…” Ten minutes later, and your hosts are wrapping you up in long, rubber bandages. You’re standing in the middle of their living room, standing still as they wrap the strips around you, binding you. The feel is like nothing you’ve ever felt before…rubber being wrapped around rubber, all for the purpose of binding you. You can’t help but shiver with excitement as your arms are wrapped at your sides, trapping them there. You look down, see only shiny strips of rubber where your body should be. The wrapping finishes as your hosts reach your throat, trying the last strips off. You’re so excited that for a moment, you forget to try out the bondage. When you start to struggle, it becomes clear that Cathy and Richard know their techniques well. The stretchy wraps were wrapped around you very tightly, ensuring that they would constrict and bind you even together. You can wiggle and squirm, but there’s no getting free. “Well, let’s put you down before you loose your footing. Don’t want you falling down now, do we?” Cathy takes your shoulders as Richard takes your feet. You’re picked up and carried over to the couch, where you are laid down on your back, looking up at the ceiling. “Comfy?” You nod, wiggling slightly. “Oh yes.” Cathy smiles. She can tell that you’re really enjoying this. “Feels good to indulge yourself, doesn’t it?” You nod, continuing to struggle, wiggling in your wrappings, enjoying the feel of the tightness and inescapability, of being a rubber mummy. “You got this Cathy?” Richard asks. “There’s a lonely lady who needs some loving in the next room.” “Sure, go ahead.” Cathy says. “I’ll take care of this.” As Richard leaves (with a huge smile on his face), Cathy looks down at your struggling form. “Hmm…if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you would want to be bound even more tightly.” You look up at her, surprised at what she said…yet it’s true. “You do want to be bound tighter, don’t you?” You hesitate, unsure of what to say. “Come on now, don’t be shy. When are you going to get another chance like this?” She runs a finger over your wrappings. “A woman who’s ready and willing to bind you however you want. A chance like that only comes along once in a lifetime. You’d better use it when it comes.” You contemplate your words, but Cathy is right. This is the only time you’ll ever be given an opportunity like this. Best to use it before it’s too late. “I do have one,” you say, embarrassed to even talk about it. But you manage to force the words out. “I’m wrapped up like this…and then I’m put in a sleep sack and locked in for the rest of my life, never, ever to be released.” It feels good to let the words out…even if you are embarrassed by what you’ve just revealed. “Normally, I’d say that’s one fantasy that’s just impossible to do,” Cathy remarks. “Hell, we once tried something with Richard. He managed about a week before we had to let him out. But in this case…I think we can make a special exception. If I remember right, we’ve got a special sleepsack that just might fit you. I’ll go get it.” “I’ll stay here,” you say as she walks off. When she’s gone, you look around, glancing out the window. The sun is close to setting on the horizon, setting a warm, golden glow on the clouds in the sky. From the look son their faces, Jenny and Jacky seem to be enjoying the view…along with the sexual stimulation they keep getting from the other guests. Cathy comes back, holding up something big and black. “Here we go!” She says. “The last sleepsack we’ve got, and it’s an old favorite. Black rubber inflatable. Covers everything except your head, internal sleeves to prevent arm movement, and a triple thick zipper in the back. Sound good?” Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets just looking at the thing. Even deflated, it looks huge. You can’t even imagine what it must be like when inflated. But then again, there’s only one way to find out. “Oh yeah,” you say. “Looks nice…” “Oh come on, now’s not the time to be shy! Now’s the time to let all your inhibitions go!” “You’re awfully chipper about all this.” You remark. “Hey, I got nothing to loose,” she says. “And besides, a positive outlook helps, no matter the situation. But come on, let’s get this on you.” She walks over, holding the sack wide open. Lying on the couch, you do what you can to assist her in getting it on you. You lift your legs and wiggle, trying to squirm in as she pulls it up and around your wrappings. It’s a loose fit, but still snug. When it’s on, she takes the zipper and zips it shut, followed by locking the collar around your neck, creating a tight seal. It’s a snug fit overall, but not very tight. Then again, it hasn’t been inflated yet. Cathy holds up an air compressor, angling it towards the small tube sticking up from near your shoulder. “You ready?” She asks. “Because once this is inflated, you’re never coming out.” She grins mischievously. “There’s no turning back.” You nod. After all, what else would you do? The chance to fulfill a fantasy is too great to pass up. The sexual energy in the air is supercharged, and there’s no denying it. Leaning over, Cathy presses the nozzle of the compressor onto the tube, pushing it down tightly to ensure a tight fit. Then with a twist of a nozzle, the compressor starts up with a quiet hum, pressing air into the sack. It takes a few moments before you feel the rubber start to stretch and press down around your body. Slowly, inch by inch, you feel your ability to move being taken away as the sack inflates, compressing you, pressing down on your body mercilessly, yet in a way that feels good. For fun, you struggle and wiggle, but to no avail as the sack continues to inflate, growing tighter and tighter, even starting to lift you off the sofa. It’s mind blowing. It’s beyond anything you’ve ever dreamed. And best of all is the fact that it’s real, and it’s happening. In less then two minutes, the bag is fully inflated. And you’re stuck inside, your body completely enclosed and unable to move, outside the faintest vestiges of a wiggle. You’re trapped. And yet, you don’t mind at all. Because it feels absolutely fantastic, more powerful and sensual then you could have even dreamed of. Squirming, you want to rub your hands all over yourself, to feel the slick rubber, the tightness of it all. But of course, you can’t. There’s nothing you can do but lie there and squirm and wiggle to your heart’s content. Cathy watches you for a few moments, obviously delighted at seeing you enjoying your bondage. You don’t mind. She can watch to her heart’s content. Richard comes back in, much sweatier and looking quite relaxed, perhaps a bit intoxicated, as he stumbles down and flops down on the couch, not noticing that he’s sitting on your leg. “Oh, sorry,” He says, getting up. “Didn’t see you there.” “No harm done.” You say. “Oh, I know what this needs!” Cathy says. “A gag?” Richard says. “Exactly. If our guest is going to be in that sack for life, it only makes sense to add a tight gag.” “And as it turns out, I have a spare,” Richard says, holding one up. Cathy takes it. “Goody.” Then, looking at you, she says, “Open wide.” This was unexpected. You hadn’t counted on wearing a gag, especially not one as big as this butterfly gag. But as it’s lowered towards you, you don’t fight. In fact, you open your mouth wide open to greet it. Why not? There’s never been a better time to experience what it’s like to be gagged and unable to speak. The black rubber fills your mouth, leaving a thick taste on your tongue as it wiggles in. Then the straps go around your head and are tied down, ensuring it isn’t going out due to any of your efforts. For fun though, you try. But those straps hold tightly, and despite your pushing, the gag isn’t going anywhere. “Comfy?” Cathy asks. “Bwuwaugh.” “Good.” You continue to struggle, almost unaware of your eyes rolling up in your head from sheer pleasure. You’ve never, ever felt anything like this. For the next few minutes, the next few hours, or whatever you have left, it will be heaven. But then things suddenly go quiet. Opening your eyes, you look around. Outside, the sky has turned a bright red color. The sun has started to set on the horizon. It’ll be night soon. From the looks of things, you’ll have a beautiful sunset…easily one of the most beautiful you’ve ever seen, either recently, or during your entire life. High in the sky, you can see a twinkling light, that’s growing bigger by the second. The others in the house see it too. Looking out the windows, all activity quietly comes to a stop. Play partners go still. Sexual intercourse comes to an end. Everyone looks to the clock on the wall. You follow their gaze. It’s five fifty. From your vantage point on the sofa, all you can do is watch the window, and see the bright light growing larger. A few of the guests start to move out onto the patio, rubber clothing and all. Those who can’t walk, are carried by their partners. You watch as they go, realizing that you’re left to yourself here on the sofa, with nobody to spend the end of the world with. That is, until Cathy comes up to you. “You want to go outside?” She asks. You nod. It would be better then being alone in here. Enlisting the help of another guest, Cathy lifts you off the couch and carries you to the patio. You’re put on a small sofa, after which she sits down next to you, Richard at her side. It’s quiet. The patio is packed with people watching the sky. It’s beautiful. The light is getting bigger. Next to you, Cathy looks at Richard. She looks…content. “Well…I suppose we had a good run, didn’t we?” Richard put an arm around her, holds her closet. “Yeah. We sure did. I’m so grateful I was glad to share it with you.” Cathy returns his smile. There are a few sobs from the others, but then something wonderful begins to happen. The others get closer to those who are sobbing. Complete strangers are holding hands, or holding each other. Even Jenny and Jacky are being held by complete strangers, but they don’t object. They seem to welcome it. Someone else (you can’t tell who, for they’re wearing a gasmask), slowly sits next to you, quietly putting their arms around you as they look up to the sky. You relax under their hold, allowing them to hug you. Those out on the beach go quiet, standing together, waiting for the end. A few of them start to sing quietly. Cathy and Richard look up to the sky together, looking at the light from the meteor. With her free arm, Cathy puts it around your shoulder, holding you close. The light grows ever brighter. It won’t be long now. As is with most people near the end, you think back on your life and how it went. What you did and accomplished, and what you wish you could have done. There are some regrets of course, but overall, things weren’t nearly as bad as they could have been. You did pretty well, all things considered. And best of all, you get to end life in a way that few can even dream of…bound and restrained, finally living out one of your deepest fantasies. Quite a way to go indeed. But as it turns out, there’s still one more surprise left in store. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, but there’s a tiny button set in the shoulder of your sleepsack. Cathy reaches over and presses it. There’s a sudden, intense vibration on your groin. It catches you completely by surprise, but you quickly realize why. There’s a powerful vibrator sewn into the sack itself, conveniently placed at the groin area. And you quickly discover that it has enough power to push through layers of bondage, to reach the most sensitive location on the human body. As far as last gifts go, this one takes the cake. And it isn’t long before you get a mind blowing orgasm, your entire body involuntarily stretching, every nerve pulled as far as it will go, your eyes rolling back into your head as you strain against your restraints. You don’t see it, but Cathy’s smile gets bigger. But you feel her holding you close, along with the other person at your side. In your euphoria induced haze, you wish you could hug them both back and return the favor. But you’re grateful that you got to spend the last hours of life experiencing a great gift…not the experience of bondage (but that was fucking awesome too), but of experiencing the gift of human kindness, of how these people welcomed you and accepted you. A great gift indeed, to know how kind the human heart can be. Relaxed, calm, and at peace, you join the others in looking to the sky, and the coming of night.

It was another quiet night at the royal palace. The wind blew softly through the marble pillars, water lapping softly at the edge of luxurious pools, gargling from ornate fountains. Aids, servants, and administrators quietly walked to and fro, making little noise as they attended to their business. It was a peaceful, quiet night… save for the faint screams from the western end of the palace. Few heard the screams. Those that did hear the shrieks of the damned had long since learned to either tune it out, or simply walk of earshot. There was no need to concern themselves with them. But there was one who, against good sense, was heading towards the screams. Sneaking on the outskirts of the palace, the servant girl Tais was searching for the source of the terrified screams. Normally such a thing would be a bad idea, but with nothing else to do this night, she ignored her common sense. Boredom, and a morbid sense of curiosity, had compelled her to seek out the sources of the screams that she had heard for weeks now. She found its source moments later, in the form of a small air vent leading to the dungeons below. Kneeling in the sand, she peered through the grate. What she saw was something out of a nightmare. In dungeons deep beneath the earth, the criminals of Egypt were being prepared for burial, all being wrapped and bandaged as mummies. But these were no dead bodies of long executed lowlifes. These men and women were still alive, still breathing even as their bodies were wrapped in bandages, wads of linen and cotton being stuffed into their mouths to silence their screams and pleas for mercy. Watching the sight, Tais was both repelled, yet unable to tear her gaze away. Being the servant girl that she was, she had no reason to go to the dungeons of the palace. What happened there was none of her concern. But she was seeing it. The condemned, the worst of the worst, all about to be buried deep in the desert sands, their spirits cursed to wander forever without rest. As she looked on, she couldn’t even begin to contemplate the fate of those below… it seemed to be so cruel. No doubt these men and women had earned their sentences, but looking down at them, she only saw their frightened eyes, their terrified expressions even as bandages were wound around their heads, covering their faces forever. What a horrible thing, to know that you were only hours away from entombment, knowing that your spirit would never find rest. Such a horrible fate… and yet, despite knowing who and what they were, Tais felt something… a sense of pity for them. They were criminals, no doubt about that. But in light of such a horrible fate, she couldn’t but feel a little compassion for them. Strangely, such a realization didn’t feel wrong. ...

The pouring rain thundered onto the small car as it sped down the road, disregarding the posted speed limits. The driver, a thin man named Ted, was not up for obeying the speed limits. After all, when you’re being chased by the police, you’re not usually up for driving safely. “Shit!” Spinning the steering wheel, he swung the car off the road and into a nearby alley, but saw that it was a dead end. There was no way out, save a tall wooden fence. ...

They came from nowhere. On that ordinary day, millions of people woke to find something most unusual. There were black coffins. Millions of them. In every city, every farm, every suburb and neighborhood, in every street they stood. Millions of black coffins. When you walked out into the street on that morning and saw the coffins for yourself, you thought it was some kind of prank. That seemed the most likely explanation, and your neighbors agreed with you. ...

It was not quite yet noon on the warm tropical jungle, but there was a flurry of activity in the little village nestled between the mountains. The mid day meal was almost ready to be served, a welcome break from work in the fields and from fishing in the nearby river. When the meal bell was rung, the workers and their families were quick to hasten to the meal hut, eager to fill their bellies. As their plates were filled one by one, an older man stood outside on the porch, watching as bowls were filled and as their users promptly walked off to enjoy their meals. ...

“Oh man, we are SO screwed!” Ora looked over at her panicking companion. “Calm down you spineless wimp.” “Calm down? Don’t you know where we are you idiot?! We’re in line for judgment! You know what they’re going to do with us?!” “Yes I do,” Ora said confidently. “Do you?! From what I get, Terrorists don’t go to heaven!” “For the last time, we are not terrorists.” Ora said, annoyed. “The government was corrupted beyond repair, and we had to take it out.” ...

Authors Note: This was originally going to be my entry for the short story contest, but I decided to go with another story instead. It was one hell of a stressful day. Get back from a week-long company retreat looking forward to going to a movie, relaxing, doing some writing. Instead, I get greeted with the fact that I need to help move my mother to a new apartment, that I need to clean up the house, and a host of other frustrations. And as it turned out, our pet rabbits, while I was away, had somehow managed to grab hold of the corner of the comforter on the bed, thus chewing it to bits so that whenever it moved, feathers flew by the hundreds through the air. Needless to say, I was REALLY pissed off. ...

It was another cold, dark night in the city. The hour was late, reflected by the all but empty streets, devoid of cars or people. At this time of night, only the homeless, the desperate, and the predators could be seen, the outcasts of society, but even they kept to the shadows, having no desire to be seen. There was an abandoned building in the far edge of town where few ever went, and fewer even knew existed. This night, as with many other nights, it was deserted, save for the rats that made their home here. They stopped. Sniffed the air. Then they turned and tore away into the night, fleeing the building. ...

Everything was black. “Jerry?” The voice…it wasn’t familiar…it wasn’t someone Jerry could recall hearing before. “Jerry, are you awake?” It took several moments of blinking before the darkness faded, normal vision taking its place. That was wrong…it shouldn’t have taken this long. Even on his worst mornings, Jerry couldn’t recall feeling this wrong. Something didn’t feel right, out of place…like something didn’t belong. It only took a second for him to realize that something was definitely wrong. He wasn’t in his bedroom, the one he had slept in for years. The room….this room he was in was made of what looked like clear glass mingled with white plastic, almost like a hospital room. ...

They were inseparable, two sides of the same coin. That was said about them. They were more then friends, more then husband and wife. It was as if they of the same soul, split into two parts. Never more then a dozen feet apart, they were together always. It also happened to be that they were drug dealers, the most notorious couple in the world. Billions flowed through their fingers, as did the blood of countless addicts… and those who opposed them. Their wealth was uncountable, seemingly without end. So it was with their power as well, rivaling even the most powerful governments. In a world where power and money was king, they were the undisputed emperors of the world. ...

Your name is Clingfilm1. Well, not exactly. That’s the name you go by when you’re online. It’s also the name that led to your grave. It all happened on an unassuming Monday morning. It was a typical, sunny day, full of birds singing, people on their way to work, along with the occasional happy shout of children playing in the local park. But by the end of the day, there would be no laughter. ...

Your name is Clingfilm1. Well, not exactly. That’s the name you go by when you’re online. It’s also the name that led to your grave. It all happened on an unassuming Monday morning. It was a typical, sunny day, full of birds singing, people on their way to work, along with the occasional happy shout of children playing in the local park. But by the end of the day, there would be no laughter. ...

Take it from me, and how I learned it the hard way. Never time travel. Oh sure, it’s billed as the greatest thing you’ll ever experience, but believe me, it’s a bitch. Nothing quite like going back in time to an ancient civilization to see how things are run, only to suddenly fall into the hands of ancient barbarians who don’t take kindly to visitors from other times. You see, they always, without fail, think people from the future are demons, evil spirits, or all manner of foul things. Utter and complete nonsense of course, but they never listen, are never open to reason. What’s that? You want to hear an example of what can go wrong on one of these trips? Well, it’s not pretty, I assure you. There have been many people who go back in time, only to never return for one reason or another. Most of the time we never find out what happened to them, but occasionally some of their fates are documented. They’re never pretty. What? You still want to know what happens? Well, all right. Since you’re so inquisitive, I’ll tell you the story of Corey. Out of all our customers, his fate is pretty tame compared to some of our other clients. Certainly better then being swallowed whole by a T-Rex, I’ll tell you that. Anyway, it began way in the future. Actually, the present day for him. Here is he, Corey, a man looking for a bit of excitement and fun in his life, seeking that next big thrill to propel him out of the ordinary and into the extraordinary, into the small group of privileged guys who have done the impossible… they’ve traveled through time and come back to brag about it to their friends. Like any other hot-blooded male, he feels challenged by this and wants to show that he’s done it too. Don’t know why, but why is it that males always want to impress each other with these stupid stunts? Ah, never mind. And as it just so happens, Corey’s saved up just enough money to take a trip through time. Sight seeing of course, not to alter it. Corey’s not that stupid. So the day comes when he walks off sniggering at his buddies and heads into the time travel building and applies for a time travel visa. He’s given all these forms to sign, including the one that says if a traveler causes damage to the time space continuum, he’s on his own (with all his money non-refundable of course, and freeing the time travel company from any liability). Anyway, he’s all pissed off at all these damn forms, but slugs through them anyway, gives all the necessary permissions and pays the money. With that done, the guys in charge take him back into the briefing rooms, where he undergoes a day long class on proper time travel procedures and how to act and behave in the past. No interacting with the locals, no letting them know you’re even there, yatta yatta yatta. Real standard boring shit. But to Corey’s credit, he watches and learns, taking lots of notes and pouring over every word. When the day’s classes are done, he’s actually very knowledgeable about time travel procedure and how to do it. Never thought a hot blooded man like him would have it in him if you ask me. Come the next day, they get him ready. Corey’s issued a tight fitting body glove that covers him head to toe, covering every square inch of his body. Because I know you’re curious, these suits are made of a very tight, thick rubbery material that clings to the body. When first put on it’s easy to feel a bit sensual, but it can also be quite frightening if you’re claustrophobic. Yeah… that isn’t very fun. Anyway, not that it mattered to Corey anyway. He did fine, even seemed to enjoy the experience as the suit was put on. If you looked at his eyes through the eyepieces, he seemed to be very excited at what was going on, in more ways then one. His tour guide (all travelers get one) comes in, meets him, and then she’s suited up. But it doesn’t take long before his suit suddenly changed colors from default black to a near transparency of the surrounding room. You see, that’s the real treat about these suits… they’re designed to act as active camouflage, constantly bending and refracting light to make the wearer almost completely invisible. That’s why it has to cover your entire body, to make sure that all of you is kept out of sight. It was quite a thing for him to see how he was almost completely invisible. Even seemed to get a kick out of moving his limbs around and barely being able to see them. But his guide was impatient and eager to get going. For she wasn’t one who liked being sealed up in the suits for long periods of time… she was a bit claustrophobic (remember this, it’s important). When all was said and done, there was little left to do except take the time travel controllers. Each device, when activated, would allow Corey and his guide to travel back in time, but with a catch. After each use, the device had to be recharged for a minimum of half an hour before it could be used again. Not exactly safe, I know, but that’s as far as we’ve gotten with this kind of technology, especially since it takes a long time for the time space continuum to close up after each warp. With controllers in hand, the two mounted a small hover platform, which they would ride while in the past, so as not to leave footprints or any trace that they had ever been there. And like their suits, it was also made out of invisibility technology. Every conceivable precaution to ensure the two wouldn’t be seen, every precaution taken to ensure safety and no disruption of the time space continuum. Can you guess how long it took for things to go horribly wrong? Corey had one destination in mind when he had signed up for the expedition. Out of all the times in history to explore, he had chosen to go to… surprise, surprise… ancient Egypt. Land of the pharaohs. Why so many people are obsessed with that era I have no idea, but Corey was the latest to go back in time for a visit. And with two presses of a button, he and his guide were off. One quick and somewhat nauseating trip though time and worm holes later, and they emerged into the desert near the pyramids, still pristine and shiny in the hot afternoon sun. It only took a few seconds for their suits and the platform to sense and adjust their transparency accordingly, rendering them nearly invisible amongst the sand and heat. ‘Almost’ being the key word. For as luck, or maybe fate, I don’t know, would have it, the two land in the path of a chariot out for an afternoon drive. While they had faded into invisibility before being spotted, Corey had failed to hover far enough into the air to avoid a collision with the horses. And as you can guess, there’s a big collision. Horses tumble, rider gets knocked off the chariot and Corey and his guide get thrown into the sand, loosing their grips on the time travel controllers, which go flying into the sand. But with the sudden shock of being hit, the active camouflage in their suits quickly fizzle out, leaving both of them standing in the hot desert sealed in black rubber suits. Then, to make things even worse, ancient bodyguards come running over the ridge at that moment, spears, swords and shields raised. “Did we hit someone important?” Corey asks. “Apparently so.” His guide says, realizing that they’re in deep shit. Turns out she’s right. Corey and his guide try to flee, but it’s too late. Besides, running in black rubber in temperatures over 100 degrees is bound to tire out people fast. Doubly fast if they’re in black rubber. It’s only a few seconds before they’re tackled. Corey and his guide aren’t killed, but they are forced into the sand, where their hands are forced behind their backs and tied up in thick rope, the same happening to their ankles. “Hey, wait! I can explain!” Corey shouts in fear as his ankles are tied together. But of course, these guys don’t understand English. Only a few seconds pass before the high tech travelers from the future are bound and helpless. So much for high technology, eh? I mean, they’re tied up with ropes and are suddenly helpless! If anything, I think that set a new record for the shortest accident free trip in the history of the company. So what happens next you say? Well, the two are carried and put onto chariots and driven back to the royal palace, struggling all the way, but aware of one very important fact… their time travel controllers are gone, lost somewhere in the sand. They’re also aware of the fact that finding them again is very, very unlikely. You getting an idea on how this is going? Well, anyway, the convoy goes just slow enough so that they arrive at the capital at nightfall. (I’m not sure, but apparently the court officials didn’t want the public to see the two rubber aliens in their midst). It’s here that irony plays it’s hand, for while he’s a prisoner, Corey’s original goal in this trip is fulfilled. He gets to see the capital city of ancient Egypt up close and personal while being wheeled towards what is very likely going to be an unpleasant fate. His guide almost asks how he likes Egypt… but she holds off. After all, she’s in the same situation too, and doesn’t think that now is the time for sightseeing. Once reaching the palace, the two are unloaded off the chariots, forced onto the ground and untied, only to have steel shackles locked around their ankles and wrists. Even more so then the ropes, these make sure the two aren’t going anywhere in a hurry. And as if that wasn’t enough, heavy iron collars go around their necks. Both are panicking, but Corey seems to hold up better then his guide, who’s fighting and thrashing against her restraints. Even as the iron collar is locked tightly around his throat, he manages to stay on his feet, something his guide can’t manage. She was having a complete nervous breakdown. Apparently, the Egyptians didn’t know what to think of these two strange intruders, but they weren’t taking any chances whatsoever. The next few days are quite stressful for the two of them, but I’ll spare you the details. It’s just a lot of being chained up in the dungeons, being looked over by the officials and being given angry glares by pretty much everybody. At first neither Corey or his guide know why, but they do talk about it over the radio when they have a few moments alone. Most likely to do with the person they hit in the chariot, they eventually decide. It won’t be long before they find out that they’re right. During that time, Corey’s guide tries to get a connection back to the modern day to get help. But unfortunately, that attempt doesn’t work. Either the transmitter can’t get through the continuum, maybe the receivers aren’t working, or even more sinister, perhaps the corporation won’t answer, doesn’t want to get any evidence on it’s hands that it knew customers were in trouble and that it failed to rescue them. Plausible deniability perhaps, but who knows? With big corporations, anything can and does happen. Not a happy thought. Well, the next few days are a blur, with both being led around to various court officials, examined like cattle. Humiliating and degrading, but there’s not a whole lot Corey and the guide can do about it. They’re restrained at all times and trailed by guards with spears. Bored guards as well, seeing as how they seemed to be itching for a chance to use the two for target practice. One night the two are in the dungeons, talking with each other over the radios. “You doing okay?” Corey asks. “Not really.” “You afraid we’re going to die?” “Yes. But my skin is getting itchy in this suit.” She tries to rub her body against the concrete wall. “I need a shower.” Corey rubs against the wall as well, trying to get of the irritating itch on his back, and his buttocks as well. Though the travel suits are high tech and can allow their wearers to remain inside for days at a time, it’s not designed so that they can stay inside forever. And going to the bathroom? Well, let’s not talk about that. “You been able to get through back to our time?” Corey asks. “I’ve been trying, but no luck yet. But they should answer us eventually… I don’t know why they haven’t yet.” Silence at that. Though it’s not spoken, both are keenly aware that they’ve altered time and history. Hitting somebody is one thing, but no records have ever been found regarding strange black suited figures in ancient Egypt. Their simple presence here after being discovered has no doubt altered the fabric of history. Who knows what the consequences could be? At that, the doors open up and about twelve guards walk in, along with several priests, one of whom pulls out a scroll and starts to talk. “You have any idea what he’s saying?” Corey asks. “Not a clue.” His guide replies. That surprises him. “I thought you were a tour guide!” “Yeah, but I’m just to make sure that clients don’t screw around and mess things up! I’m not supposed to go back in time and get captured by ancient dead people!” Groaning in frustration, Corey listens closely to the priest’s babbling. One thing is clear. Whatever he’s talking about, it’s clearly not good. That would explain the angry look on his face and the angry tone in his voice. After the priest stops talking, the two are unlocked from the dungeon wall, dragged outside the palace and thrown into chariots, which then take off into the night. “Well, this can’t be good.” Corey says through the radio. His guide isn’t amused. “Oh shut up! Of course it’s not good! We’re probably going to be taken somewhere to be executed!” Oh, what tangled words are weaved in such irony! Anyway, to continue… They get driven out into the desert for about an hour, until the small convoy reaches a small mountain range, where the chariots drive into the clefts, heading deep into the mountains before arriving at a small, hidden doorway carved into the mountains, and quite recently judging by all the sculptors and buildings bustling around it like bees. As the two are unloaded from the chariots and dragged towards the door, both of them have that deep gut feeling that this can’t possibly be good. Not at all. They’re taken down the stairs and through the door, heading down a long tunnel until they reach a large and elaborate room being filled with all manner of treasures and riches beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, gold upon gold, gilded chairs and elaborate statues. It’s a room fit for a king… but with that large sarcophagus being built, it’s clear that this room is a tomb. “Wait a minute…” Corey says fearfully. “I know this place.” “You do? Have you come through here before?” His guide says sarcastically, trying to cover up her own insecurities. As it turns out, she recognizes this place too. They both recognize the ornaments, the gold, the sarcophagus, even the layout of the place. This is none other then the tomb of King Tut, the boy king. It doesn’t take long for the two to realize that that was the person they had hit upon arriving here in Egypt. And the only reason they’re building a tomb is because he died. Yeah… things are that bad. Tut’s tomb isn’t destined to be found in thousands of years. But during that time, it turns out that Tut won’t go to his grave alone, for there’s another room in the very back of the tomb, just recently carved out of the rock at great haste. This is a side grave, very small, just big enough for two coffins. You know all those stories of people being buried alive throughout history? You ever notice how frequently those stories seem to center around ancient Egypt? As it turns out, court officials seem to love doing this to those who displease them… and especially to those who kill their kings. It only takes Corey and his guide a few moments to realize what this is what their fate is going to be, especially when lots of guards come inside carrying boxes upon boxes of funeral bandages. And you can probably guess what happens next. They’re forced onto the ground, shackles unlocked, and guards grabbing their limbs and stretching them out. Panicked scream and shouting fill the air as Corey and his guide are mummified alive, wrapped head to toe in those funeral bandages, rubber suits and all (the guards try cutting them off, but when that fails they just wrap over them). There’s no ripping the brains out or removing the organs, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less painful… the guards make sure that the two are going to be real sore, taking care to wrap their legs and arms excruciatingly tightly, going so far as to force arms behind their backs in an armbar position and wrapping them there. Despite the hopelessness of their situation (there’s really no chance to escape with all the guards around), Corey and his guide still fight, fighting for everything their worth, knowing that if they get wrapped, it means death. It’s a defiant gesture, but ultimately helpless one, but then again, one’s instincts override reason in times of stress. For Corey, the process is especially horrifying. Here he was, a guy who had gone back in time to impress his friends, and now here he was, being mummified alive. The bandages come over and over again, sealing him inside his cocoon, each layer of wrappings making it harder and harder to struggle and fight. He can’t feel the bandages through the rubber bodysuit, but he feels the restriction, the binding, the force that slowly but surely immobilizes him, ensuring that each successive struggle gets weaker and weaker. It doesn’t help that while the two are being wrapped, two coffins are being made right next to them. Occasionally the coffin makers will come over and observe the bodies of the two captives, make a note or two, then go over and make the necessary corrections on the coffins. Can’t make them too big, after all. As if to further add to the horror, Corey and his guide can still talk with their radios. But there are no words this time, no sarcasm, no words of support. They just hear each other struggling, but Corey is especially scared to her his guide panicking utterly. She’s fighting and squirming to try and escape the bandages that are imprisoning her, so consumed by her own fear that she doesn’t even seem to notice anyone else, much less Corey. Despite the two fighting and struggling, the outcome of this execution is all but inevitable. After half an hour the layers of bandages are so thick that movement is now all but impossible. Both Corey and his guide’s faces have long since been covered over, sealing them in darkness, possibly forever. At that point, there is no way that Corey or his guide can get out on their own. And with each passing second, escape seems less and less of a reality and more of a desperate fantasy. Sealed inside his double cocoon of rubber and bandages, Corey can’t move, can’t hear anything but the sound of his own labored breathing, his frantically pounding heart, and his frantic gasps as he struggles not to completely loose his mind at the thought of being entombed alive forever in the Egyptian desert, never to escape. He can also hear the sound of his guide, now sobbing and weeping, rocking back and forth inside her wrappings as she’s picked up and carried over towards one of the coffins. Remember what I said earlier about her being claustrophobic? Well, that made her mummification almost unbearable, but being sealed into a coffin just pushes her over the edge into insanity. And then Corey feels himself being picked up too, carried to his own coffin, squirming helplessly. The touch of wood against his wrappings is bone chilling as he’s lowered inside. Inside the coffin, feeling the wooden surfaces surrounding him, Corey tries once more to fight his way free, but it’s a futile effort. He knows it’s useless, but at this point he can’t just lie back helplessly and surrender to fate. Even if he’s going to never escape, he can at least go out fighting. But amongst all the struggling, he can hear something outside of his cocoon… the sound of a wooden lid being lowered onto his coffin, and then the sound of nails being hammered into the wood hard and fast, locking his body inside this tiny prison from which there may never be any escape. The words drive themselves into his brain with each beat of the hammer… no escape… no release… Ever. When the nailing is complete, the two coffins, containing the two living mummies, are lifted and carried one after the other into the room and stacked on top of one another. And when that’s done, it’s on to the inevitable, final, and irreversible step. Within their tiny worlds, neither of the tomb’s occupants can see as the guards leave the room and extinguish the torches, nor can they see as bricks and mortar are carried over and began to be put in place, slowly walling up the room one by one, stone by stone, by single stone. But they can feel it. Through the ground they can feel as each massive brick is put into place and then sealed in place. And with that comes the horrible realization that this is really happening… that this is their tomb, where they will spend eternity, forever sealed within these boxes, ending their lives centuries before they were even born, forever King Tut’s prisoners, sealed inside this crypt. Perhaps in thousands of years, when King Tut’s tomb is discovered, this small grave off to the side will be discovered as well. They’ll break away that thick wall, find these two coffins inside and open them to discover bandage wrapped rubber bodies inside. Or they may never find them… for after all, Tut’s tomb had been found and excavated for years, and the small room had never been found. But even if it’s found then, it’s going to be too late. In fact, the two might not even be in there. Heck, the room may not even exist. If we’re lucky, the company will discover that something’s wrong and will come and rescue us. I certainly hope so… I know I’m loosing my mind… I might have even lost it already! I mean, we accidentally killed Tut and now we’ve been buried alive! So that’s my story… I’m sending this message out into time and space in the hopes that it lands on something… a computer maybe, so that somebody can find out what happened to us and then send help. I know this all sounds nuts, but you have to believe me, being buried alive can do a lot to your mind! I can hear Corey’s mummy sobbing in his coffin, no doubt from realizing that this is quite possibly where we end our journey and I don’t blame him. After all, he’s just another guy who wanted to impress his buddies… but if I ever get out of here, I swear I’m never going to be time travel tour guide again!

“Hurry it up already!” Cathy struggled through the bushes, cursing as the bottom of her trench coat was caught on some branches. “I’m going as fast as I can!” “Well go faster! And stop making so much noise!” Groaning as they emerged from the thickets, Cathy pondered how best to tell Ruth that she was going to pick what house they were going to egg come next year. The creepy mansion deep in the forest was just too much of a pain to get to. But at the moment silence was indeed golden, for if this was going to be pulled off successfully, then they were going to have to stay as quiet as possible. That, and keep a low profile among the foliage. “Remind me again why we’re wearing these?” She asked, pinching the rubber of her black bodysuit. “Stealth of course!” Ruth said as she recounted the eggs in her basket. “Camouflage…and besides, don’t you like wearing skin tight rubber?” “Well…” “Come on, admit it!” “Well, yes…but…” “Then why are you complaining!? Look at it this way…if we pull this off, I’ll be sure to tie you up myself when we get back to your place, then give you a massage. How does that sound?” The idea of a massage, especially when wearing rubber, sounded very nice indeed. “All right,” Cathy said with a sly smile. “But only if we pull this off.” Grinning, Ruth got low to the ground and started to creep across the lawn, but stopped. “Hey, where’s Nathan?” Cathy glanced back into the bushes. “No sign of him.” “Too bad…looks like he’ll miss the fun.” Together the two girlfriends snuck across the grounds of the mansion, moving close enough to strike. Halfway across the grass they each pulled out an egg, making sure to keep the bag wide open so they could grab more. They finally got close enough to striking range, impressing Cathy. Secretly, she had doubted that black rubber bodysuits and trench coats would act as suitable camouflage, but it seemed to have worked well enough so far. Maybe Ruth’s not as dumb as she seems. Still, best to remain wary. As the two inched forward ever so slightly, Ruth held up her hand. “Stay here. I’m going to sneak around a little bit that way.” Cathy nodded. “Wait until I give the signal, then we strike. After we empty the bags, we split and head back home. Got it?” “Yeah.” Grinning, Ruth slinked her way around the edge of the house, aiming for the very tip of the backyard, leaving Cathy by herself to watch Ruth’s progress. Glancing back towards the bushes, Cathy nervously looked for any sign of Nathan. It wasn’t like him to be late like this…had something gone wrong? Several possibilities came to mind…most likely he had lost his nerve and chickened out, gone home maybe, or even to the police. God, she hoped not. This was just supposed to be a bit of harmless fun…the last thing they all needed was to get caught up with the police. Ahead, Ruth was holding up one of her eggs, readying a throw. Realizing that it was best not to dawdle, Cathy pulled out an egg of her own, readying her aim and targeting the nearest window. But it was difficult to focus…something here didn’t seem right. Granted, what they were doing wasn’t exactly the right thing to do, but it was as if something was trying to warn her about a great danger they were walking right into. The next few seconds unexpectedly proved the warnings correct. Lights snapped on all around the house, illuminating the lawn and enveloping Cathy and Ruth in brilliantly powerful lights. Caught off guard, Cathy dropped her eggs, staggering backwards. She knew only two things. One, they had been seen, for she could hear shouts and yelling. Two, they had to run. Run as fast as their legs could carry them and get as far away from this place as possible. There would be no pranks tonight. Eyes temporarily blinded by the sudden blast of light, she staggered backwards, tripped and fell onto the wet grass. She immediately tried to stand, but her boots slipped. It took precious seconds to regain her footing, but by then she could hear people running towards her, yelling and screaming. As they closed in on her, Cathy had the horrible realization that they were completely and utterly screwed. She had no idea, no idea at all how right she was. *** It had happened surprisingly fast. Once captured on the lawn, a blindfold of some kind had been forced over Cathy’s eyes as metal slipped around her wrists, locking them together. She recognized the feeling quickly, realizing that they were handcuffs. But she had little time to think as she was dragged across the lawn and then inside the house. After that Cathy quickly lost track of what was happening, save hearing doors being opened and closed, and realizing that she was being dragged down many flights of steps…into the basement maybe? Her unseen captors eventually came to a stop. The handcuffs were undone, but Cathy didn’t try to fight, knowing that fighting would possibly make her captors hurt her. Best to go along, accepting what was going to happen. She was terrified, knowing that all this was going to lead to the police being called, spending the night in jail, then heading to several court hearings. But all she could do at the moment was try to avoid being hurt. Her hands were forced above her head after the trench coat was pulled off. Cathy shivered in embarrassment and humiliation, knowing that she must look ridiculous in her rubber bodysuit. But no words were spoken as thick metal was forced around each of her wrists, then locked into place, leaving her standing with arms dangling. And then the process was repeated for her feet, with thick metal locked around her ankles and bolting her feet to the floor. Then the blindfold was ripped off. Bright light assaulted her eyes, squinting them shut. Blinking rapidly, Cathy caught a glimpse of three people walking away, closing a door behind them, then locking it in place. When her vision came back completely, she looked around, trying to see where she was. To her surprise the room looked like a medieval dungeon with concrete walls, heavy wooden beams crossing the ceiling, straw covering the floor and even two torches stuck into the walls, providing just enough illumination for her to look up and see her wrists in thick ceramic shackles. A quick struggle revealed that they were sealed tight. No amount of struggling was going to get her out of them or the ones around her ankles. Looking around though, she saw another surprise. At first Cathy had feared that she was the only one confined in this dark tomb, but she had a fellow inmate. “Nathan!” Stirring in his shackles, Cathy and Ruth’s roommate Nathan opened his eyes and blinked, looked around. They went wide as he caught sight of her. “Cathy! They got you too?!” “Appears so.” She shook her shackles. “Where the hell are we?” “In the house?” “Besides that.” “I don’t know.” Nathan’s eyes were full of fright. “Call me dumb but it looks like these people are dungeon enthusiasts. Normally I’d call that a good thing…” “But not now.” Nathan nodded. “Are you hurt?” “Uh…no.” “That’s good. No injuries?” “No.” Nathan whined. “Stay calm.” Cathy tried to think of something to say, anything to keep both of them occupied and their minds off their situation. “What happened to you?” “Me? I was heading around the other side of the house when I was ambushed. Three guys in black jumped me. Next thing I knew I was locked up in here. And then here you come, all dressed up and chained too.” “Guys in black?” “Yeah, like Seal guys or something. It was like they were waiting for me or something.” Cathy tried to think about what that meant, but she couldn’t focus on both that and the realization that a large bulge was growing near the crotch of Nathan’s bodysuit, that he was eying her over (while trying to hide it at the same time). Normally such attention would be flattering, but now was not the time for it. “So…what do we do now?” Nathan asked. “I guess all we can do is wait.” She said. “See what happens.” “You don’t think they’re going to…torture us do you?” “I don’t know.” It was a grim idea, being that they were locked in a dungeon and all, but then again this could all be just for show. Or perhaps the owners of this house were medieval enthusiasts. Perhaps a bit obsessed, but still… The two of them stood there for a few minutes in silence, waiting for whatever was coming their way. A glance every now and then showed Nathan’s bulge still in place. “Never should have done this…” Nathan muttered. “Whole thing was so stupid! I swear, if I ever get out of here alive I’m never going to egg someone’s house ever again!” “It was supposed to be for fun.” Cathy assured him. “None of us wanted this to happen.” “Damn right! I don’t want to be chained up like this!” “I thought you liked being tied up.” That made Nathan blush. “Well…normally yes but…” “It’s nothing. Just forget about it.” “Look, if this is about the bulge I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You just look so…” “No, it’s not about that. But can I ask you something?” Still embaressed from what he had said, Nathan nodded. “I guess so.” “Why were you on the other side of the house?” It hadn’t been until a moment ago that Cathy realized that something about Nathan’s story seemed suspicious. “Uhh, Ruth told me to sneak up on that side. Why?” Cathy’s eyes bulged. Nathan being told to sneak up on the other side? Ruth had specifically told Cathy that they were all going to sneak up together as a group, not split up. She had another feeling in her gut, telling her that something was very, very wrong. As if in response to her questioning, the door to the dungeon opened with a loud creak. Both of the dungeon’s occupants were quite surprised to see who walked in. “Ruth!” Nathan twisted in his shackles. “Thank God! Get us out of here!” Ruth, still dressed in her bodysuit and trench coat, eyed the two, looking them over. There was a look on her face that Cathy didn’t recognize, something cold and heartless. As if confirming her fears, Ruth walked up to Nathan, stroked his chin. “Sorry Nathan.” She said sympathetically. “But I’m afraid that’s just not possible.” For a moment Nathan stared at her, confused as to what she was saying. “W…what are you talking about?!” “You were caught about to egg this mansion. And the owners are very upset about that. They don’t like being egged." “Then tell them I’m sorry!” Nathan was starting to panic, sweat pouring off his forehead. “I’m sorry and I won’t do it again, I swear!” Ruth grinned. “Oh, I’m sure they have no doubt about that. But you and Cathy have to be punished for what you did.” “But we didn’t do anything!” “But the intent was there. You had it all planned out and were planning to egg this house.” “But you were going to do it too!” She grinned. “Well yes, but the owners of this house and I have a certain, how do you say it?…understanding.” Nathan didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Cathy on the other hand, was starting to realize what was going on, as well as what had been going on behind the scenes. “You set us up.” She said in disbelief. “You set us up." Ruth walked over, started to stroke Cathy’s chin. “Oh dear sweet Cathy, you have no idea.” She glanced at Cathy’s breasts. “You are very attractive you know. Especially in rubber…he’s going to just love you.” “He?” “My employer. But before he gets to you…” She pressed a finger to Cathy’s lips. “I’m going to do you a favor. Just something between the two of us. He wouldn’t want it, but I’ll forget about him just this once.” Reaching up, she took the zipper of Cathy’s suit and pulled it down, revealing the soft body beneath it until she revealed Cathy’s moist crotch. Cathy realized what was going to happen just as Ruth stuck her fingers inside Cathy and started to stroke. Caught off guard, Cathy struggled, recoiled at this unwelcome intrusion, no matter how sensual it might be. She fought to pull away, but the shackles fiendishly held her in place. All she could do was thrash her body back and forth a few inches, which, ironically, made Ruth’s wiggling more intense. Despite his own fear, Nathan watched the scene before him. Not surprisingly, the bulge in his crotch grew even bigger. Cathy fought as hard as she could against the intrusion, but while her mind was dead set against it, her body was surrendering to the slowly increasing feelings of pleasure washing over it. Her body began to shake and twitch uncontrollably, muscles tightening as the climax approached, even as Cathy helplessly tried to stop it, as her mind began to waver in whether to give in or not. But in the end, the pleasure was too much. Cathy shrieked, yanking against her shackles for all she was worth, muscles contracting as she orgasmed. For a brief moment she was utterly still, teeth clenched and eyes shut, pulling against the shackles…and then the moment passed. Her body went limp, legs giving out beneath her. Normally the pain of being held up only by steel shackles would have forced her to stand, but the haze of pleasure shoved the pain aside. “Enjoy it.” Ruth said with a reassuring smile. “Might be the last one you’ll have for a very long time.” It was only by chance that Ruth was distracted by Nathan, now shaking involuntarily, the bulge in his suit bigger then ever. She walked over, said nothing as she looked him over. Then after a few seconds of consideration, she shrugged, reached out and began to squeeze the rubber. Already turned on, it only took ten seconds to bring the second captive to orgasm as well. “Even though I’m not attracted to men,” she said to Nathan as he limply hung in his chains. “You always were kinda cute.” He glanced at her, breathing deeply as sweat pouring off his head. Ruth could tell that he had enjoyed it much more then Cathy had. It would have been fun to play with them for a while longer, but that wouldn’t be happening tonight. “Hope you both enjoyed the show.” She snapped her fingers. “But I’m afraid the time for fun and games is over.” Four men walked into the room, curiously dressed as ancient Egyptians. Cathy looked at them, still recovering her strength. The fog of pleasure and drowsiness was fading, and with it went the emotional numbness, once again allowing her fear to rise. “Cathy?” Nathan said fearfully as two of the men walked up to him. “Cathy?!” “Don’t fight Nathan.” Cathy warned him, fearing that the men would hurt them if they resisted. They certainly looked capable enough. “Don’t try to fight them.” “You would do well to listen to her.” Ruth said as the two were unchained, only to have their ankles and wrists tied with thick rope. “She speaks the truth.” Bound once again, the two captives were marched out of the dungeon and into the basement of the mansion, a sight that few indeed had been privileged to see. Candles shone in elegant chandeliers, softly illuminating the marble stonework that lined the walls and the soft carpet underfoot. It had the feeling of a temple of some kind, complete with two large poles straddling both the floor and the ceiling. Marched forward, Cathy struggled to keep from tripping, unable to use her hands to catch herself. Her guards were utterly silent as they came to a stop before a small group of people standing with their backs towards the captives. Judging by their elegant robes and outfits, Cathy guessed that these were either the owners of the house or some kind of religious figures. But why the Egyptian outfits? Ruth walked up beside them, her rubber suit glistening in the candlelight. “You summoned us master?” The tallest of the group turned, revealing a bald man in his early fifties, dressed in soft white robes. He said nothing, but his eyes moved over Cathy, taking her in. She slunk slightly under the sight. There was something about his gaze that chilled her to the bone. “You have done well Ruth.” The man said, his voice deep and rich with age. “She will serve us well.” Cathy managed to work up enough nerve to speak. “Who are you? The owner of this place?” “Yes. My name is Adam, and this is wife, Anna.” The woman standing next to him turned around, an old book held in her hands. “At least, that is the name that we are known by in this age.” Leaning over, the man whispered something into the ears of what Cathy guessed to be a guard, who nodded and walked off. “You were thinking of egging my house, were you not?” “Yes. We were.” Cathy figured that it was best to be honest. Lying while bound and helpless did not seem to be a wise idea. The man smiled. “You are honest, a rare trait indeed. You young ones always lie to save your own skins. It’s in your blood. You are rare indeed…special.” He walked up, smiling, rubbing his finger over her chest, just above her breasts. “And fate has bestowed upon you great beauty.” “What are you going to do to us?” “We’re not going to call the police, if that’s what you’re implying. Not that they could help you anyway.” “What do you mean?” Cathy was thinking fast, trying to make sense of what he had said, already fearing the worst. “You were planning to commit a crime and although you have acknowledged and confessed your guilt, punishment is still needed. Because of your crimes, you will be punished in a most special way indeed.” “May I remind you that what you’re doing could be considered kidnapping?” Cathy coolly informed him, trying to sound more confident then she felt. This whole situation was getting more and more unnerving with each second that passed. The man smiled. “True…but who would miss a criminal? From all that have seen throughout the years, they are rarely missed. You are starting to realize that something is happening, no?” Cathy just looked at him. “It is something beyond anything you could possibly understand.” He stroked Cathy’s chin, ignoring her defiant look. “Do you see that book my wife is holding?” Cathy managed to look away from the man for a few moments, saw the book. The woman was thumbing through the pages. “Yeah.” “That is a very rare book…the only one of it’s kind in the world. No archaeologists know of it, nor do any museums. It is the original Egyptian Book of the Dead.” Cathy’s eyes snapped wide open in surprise. “You’re kidding.” “I do not ‘kid’.” Walking over, he slowly ran his hands over the worn leather cover in reverence. “This was written thousands of years ago by some of the wisest, most knowledgeable priests of the day, containing secrets about life and death, secrets that span time and space itself. But it also contains information that was deemed too dangerous to pass along to future generations. So an attempt was made to destroy the book, but one lone priest managed to steal it away.” The book was opened, its pages flipped. “Spells, sorcery, alchemy, all lie within these pages. With this book, one can obtain immortality…or even…” A fearsome smile came across the man’s lips. “…talk to a god.” Cathy and Nathan gulped, even as the man, his wife, and Ruth lit up with delighted smiles. In particular, Cathy couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “Your mind could not possibly understand the secrets of the book, nor it’s implications for mankind. All you need to know is that there is one enchantment, one spell that has been used for thousands of years, usable only once every century during the late months when the moon is at it’s highest and the darkest energies swarm the earth. Only then can the pathway be opened.” The book was softly closed. “But you do not concern yourself with that. Rather, you should prepare yourself for the trial to come.” Cathy gulped, heart racing. “Trial?” The man walked over to her. “It is a trial that will push you beyond the limits of pain and pleasure, agony and ecstasy, anguish, despair, joy and happiness…you will experience all of them beyond what humans can ever hope to feel.” Cathy instinctively struggled, tried to move away. But the guards flanking her grabbed and held on, forcing her still. “Hey, leave her alone!” Nathan shouted. The man glanced over at him curiously, as if noticing him for the first time. “Hmm… normally males are not accepted. But I suppose you’ll do.” There was a loud creak near the back of the room as a pair of thick wooden doors were opened. Both Nathan and Cathy nervously looked over as attendants and guards walked into the room, the attendants carrying boxes upon boxes filled with something that the two couldn’t see. They kept coming, one after another, a seemingly endless tide. “Who are they?!” Nathan whispered to Cathy. “I don’t know.” But after a few moments the attendants began to carry in something new. Large white wrapped forms, between five and six feet long, oval shaped. As they were brought in, Cathy gasped as they were laid on the ground, for they were moving. Or more precisely, wiggling, like caterpillars struggling to escape from cocoons. She realized with horror that there were people inside those white forms. “People! There are people in there!” She turned to their captor. “What have you done to them?!” “They are those chosen for the ceremony.” The man said calmly. “The latest sacrifices. All intruders like yourselves…young ones who thought it would be fun to play pranks on us, the recluses who live deep in the woods. But they have learned the price of their folly, and they will be punished” He smiled at Cathy. “And now, you and your friend will join them.” A shriek got Cathy’s attention. Nathan was being grabbed by four guards, one for each limb, who then forced him towards a pair of shackles dangling from the ceiling and locked his wrists in them. “CATHY! HELP!” “Stop it!” Cathy shouted, mind swirling with thoughts of horrible tortures being forced upon him. “Leave him alone!” “Why do you care for him?” “He’s my friend!” Cathy said. “Please, just leave him alone!” But the man was ignoring her now. He walked over to Nathan, started whispering something into his ears as some of the attendants opened their boxes and pulled out roll after roll of white bandages. After about thirty seconds he turned and walked away. Nathan’s face had turned white, eyes blank in fear. He was no longer shouting, only looking toward Cathy, looking at her straight in the eyes, as if begging her to help him. He didn’t even resist as the attendants opened the boxes and began to wrap bandages around his ankles. For the next half hour Cathy watched helplessly as Nathan was mummified, his body wrapped up in tight white bandages. It was a slow process, but the guards and attendants did not pause as Nathan’s limbs were wrapped from his ankles up to his neck, then around his arms and back down again, weaving him into a tight cocoon. Nathan didn’t struggle or resist as he dangled from the ceiling, though he was still terrified as his body was tightly wound and wrapped up, each additional layer making it harder and harder to move. During the entire time he stared at Cathy, silent and pleading. Cathy watched, horrified, as his wrapped legs were placed together, then wrapped together in more bandages. They kept moving up and up, wrapping him tighter and tighter, starting to go around his head as well. His manacles were released and Nathan was lowered onto the floor, where his arms were forced to his sides and tied there, then wrapped to his body, rendering him utterly helpless. Then more and more layers were applied, until Nathan was completely mummified, bound in over fifteen layers of white bandages and sealed into his cocoon just like the other helpless mummies lying on the floor. They were just starting to cover his terrified face when the man held his hand out. “Leave his face uncovered. Prepare to wrap the woman.” Cathy’s insides turned to ice at realizing that she was next. The attendants left Nathan on the floor as they began to pull out more fresh wrappings, preparing to begin their next mummification. “It is now your turn.” The man said as Cathy watched the preparations before her, unable to take her eyes away. “And I will tell you what I told him. Do not struggle and do not resist, for if you do, I will force you to watch as your friend’s tongue is cut out of his mouth and eyes are gouged from their sockets.” For a second Cathy was struck with horror. That was why Nathan’s face were still uncovered, allowing her to see him. Then that horror turned to rage. “You monster…” she hissed. “You will not escape the fate chosen for you, but I am being generous in this offer. You can choose to cooperate, or you can resist and force your friend to suffer pain and agony without end. It is your choice.” Nathan was staring at Cathy as she glared at their captor. But her rage could not cover the fact that resisting would only bring Nathan unbearable agony…he had been told the same thing and gone through the process of mummification, choosing not to resist and sparing Cathy the same fate. She couldn’t let him suffer like that. The attendants walked up, bandages held at the ready. “Lock her up.” Cathy winched, but did not fight as the ropes were cut from her arms, allowing the attendants to force them into the shackles dangling from the ceiling. Nor did she fight as her clothes were cut from her body, leaving her dangling naked and completely helpless. She was starting to cry, utterly humiliated and knowing that there was nothing she could do. The man on the other hand, was smiling ear to ear, obviously pleased at seeing her so helpless and vulnerable…innocence held captive by a beast. “Wrap her.” The attendants walked up, knelt near her feet. It took a lot for Cathy to keep from kicking them in the face as they tied the first bandages around her ankles and began to wind them around her naked skin. Nathan was still watching, his eyes focused on her in horror and sadness. He knew what it was like to be mummified, and now he could only watch helplessly as Cathy endured the same fate. The procedure was almost exactly like Nathan’s. It wasn’t hurried, for the attendants knew exactly what they were doing. They didn’t need to rush. For close to an hour they wrapped Cathy’s body, winding the bandages around her legs, torso, arms, neck and breasts, covering her soft skin. But the embalmers ignored Cathy herself, as if they were wrapping a mamequin and not a living, breathing human being. Even when they forced her crotch open and stuffed it with bandages, they worked professionally, not allowing their emotions to get in the way. But it was not the same for Cathy. It was taking all she had to not fight and struggle, to scream and kick and try to escape her fate. Even as much as she wanted to escape, she couldn’t stomach the thought of Nathan suffering because of her, and it was that which kept her still and allowed the attendants to mummify her alive. But she wasn’t strong enough to stop herself from crying, sobbing as tears dripped from her terrified eyes. “There, there my dear. Do not despair.” The man told her. “You are being given a great honor, one to be enjoyed and treasured. You will not only bring y…” “Dearest…” Looking over, the man saw his wife going through the book of the dead. “I require your assistance with the spell.” “Of course.” Leaving Cathy, the man walked over to his wife to assist in whatever they were doing, leaving Cathy by herself. Well…not exactly. Someone else was taking a great interest in her. “You look so…yummy…” Ruth whispered as she walked up. “All rolled up and wrapped into a nice steamy burrito…If they let me, maybe I’ll screw you once they’re done.” Keeping silent to save Nathan, Cathy could do. But to remain silent in the face of this woman…that was unacceptable. “Ruth, you sniveling bitch…how much are they paying you to do this?!” Her terror and grief were now giving way to anger and hate. “Don’t be mad honey. It’s my job to lure the young and healthy to my employers. You two are just the latest…though I am surprised they accepted Nathan. I thought I was going to keep him for sure. But no biggie. I can always get another man.” She giggled as she reached out and ran her fingers over Cathy’s wrapped crotch. “A well wrapped man that is.” “Why?” Cathy’s brief stint of hate had been overcome by fear once more, leaving her voice quiet and despairing. “Why in heavens name are you doing this? Is what they’re offering worth more then the friendship we had? All those years in college and the universities? Moving out on our own? Living together?” Ruth went silent for a moment. Then she quietly shook her head. “I do admit…of all the young ones I’ve come across over the years, I did start to have feelings for you. Like the owner of a beloved pet. All the games, the sex…” She reached up, ran her fingers over the bandages covering Cathy’s breasts. “…but that’s where I made my mistake. I’m not supposed to become attached to my targets. Only makes the job more difficult.” She pulled her finger away. “So that’s when I knew I had to bring you in, before I became too attached.” Walking backwards, Ruth watched the attendants bring Cathy’s legs side by side, then wrapped them together. Cathy could only watch, staring at the woman she had once thought as a friend…as a lover. But now she realized the folly of that mistake, seeing now that she was little more then a cobra in the guise of beauty. The shackles were unlocked and her body was lowered to the floor. Sitting her up, the embalmers took Cathy’s arms and forced them to her sides. Cathy kept her eyes on Ruth, crying as her bandaged arms were wrapped tightly in place, sealing them there forever. And with her entire body wrapped, save her head, she knew there was only one last step. “Wait.” The bandages halted just inches from Cathy’s head. She looked over, saw Ruth holding out her hand. For a moment Cathy’s heart raced at the thought of Ruth having a last minute change of heart. Ruth wordlessly walked over, knelt next to the mummified body of her former friend. There was something in her eyes, a longing that had been repressed. Cathy looked back, silently pleading for release, for help, for anything to get them out of here. Ruth reached down and took Cathy in her arms, bringing her close to her own body, hugging her. Cathy dared to let herself hope that despite her set up, the realization that their friendship had been a farce, despite all the pain, Ruth would come to her senses, see the insanity in all this. It was possible, so very possible. It was in her eyes. Ruth wanted to believe it too. She rubbed her hands over the bandages, stroking Cathy. It was so sensual, so familiar and comforting that Cathy’s tense body began to relax, going limp as it felt Ruth’s warmth …wrapped and bound, held close against a warm body. It was going to happen…Ruth was going to smile and say that this was all a joke, a huge prank she had pulled. Any minute now she would smile and cut these bandages away…or pick her up and take her home, plop her in bed and hold her all night long, and the two of them (well, three) would get a good laugh about this whole thing. A desperate hope, but Cathy let herself hope. She wanted so badly to wrap her arms around Ruth and hold her, to encourage her. Ruth slowly leaned over, eyes closed. Slowly, oh so slowly, she kissed Cathy, her lips warm and moist. Cathy closed her eyes too, returning the kiss, relishing in the moist warmth and softness… …any second now. Any second now and freedom would come… “I wanted you to know that I do feel for you.” Ruth whispered into Cathy’s ear. “And that I did enjoy the time we had together.” Cathy listened…but her hope began to die. Slowly, Ruth laid Cathy back onto the floor. “But it’s just not meant to be.” Cathy stared up at her…as her hope and her heart died. She cried as the attendants moved in once more, began to wrap her head up. She kept crying as bandages were wound under her mouth, over her nose, around her skull, tighter and tighter until only her eyes were uncovered. The attendants continued to wrap her body for another half hour, sealing her into layer after layer of wrappings until she could barely breathe and even wiggling her toes became all but impossible. What little she could see of her own cocoon was nothing but endless white enclosing her body, sealing her in permanently. She was no longer human now, merely an object. Then with another layer added to her head, Cathy’s mummification was complete. Helpless, Cathy could do nothing but cry as she was lifted off the floor and propped on her feet, unseen hands holding her upright. She was helpless to steady herself as the man, the leader of all this insanity walked over, looking Cathy’s mummy over, nodding in approval. “This is most rare indeed.” He said. “You and your friend…” Behind Cathy, Nathan was being propped up as well. “…you have not struggled and have accepted your fate. In all the centuries that I have lived through, I have never seen this happen. Two souls selflessly giving of themselves to save the other. Everyone who has come before you, including them,” the man indicated the other mummies, “has fought, thinking only of themselves. They suffered the fate I promised for either of you would you have struggled. You are indeed pure souls.” Behind the man, his wife called out to him. “My dear, we are ready to begin.” “Very well.” Turning back to Cathy, he nodded to the attendants. “Because the two of you were selfless, you shall be wrapped together.” Nathan was carried over and propped on his feet behind Cathy. The two were forced back to back, at which point the embalmers wound even more bandages around the two, wrapping them together as one. Cathy could barely feel Nathan behind her as she was bound to him. But at this point she was numb, not really caring anymore. All her tears of fear and despair had been shed. There was nothing left. “Uhh…Cathy?” Cathy sniffed. “Yes?” Nathan stammered, trying to the get the words out. “In case I never get the chance, I just wanted to say I…I…I love you.” Despite all that she had felt, Cathy did manage a smile. “Really?” “Yeah. Ever since you hired me, I’ve been head over heels for you. I just never told you because you were in love with Ruth.” Cathy nodded, not really caring about Ruth anymore. “I always did find you to be really cute. And if it matters, I thought you were a really good housecleaner.” Nathan managed a fleeting, despairing laugh. “Thanks. And if it matters, thanks for letting me get in on all those bandage games of yours.” He had more to say, but the attendants took that moment to stuff several bandages into his mouth, then wrapping it shut. “Nathan! No!” Cathy had so much more to say, but it was now impossible. She started to cry again, despairing at how unfair it was, about the fate that the two of them would suffer through together, whatever it would be. One of the attendants in front of Cathy took three bandages and began to wad them up. Fingers moved to pinch her nostrils shut, but Cathy, wrapped head to toe and too worn out to resist any longer, simply opened her mouth. The attendant stuffed the bandages into her mouth, filling it. Cathy kept crying as bandages were wound under her mouth and over her skull, forcing her jaw shut. She tried to call out, but her tongue wouldn’t move. More bandages went over her mouth, slowly over her face until only her eyes were uncovered, sealing her in even further. When five layers of wrappings had gone around the two, Cathy and Nathan were then tied to a post in the center of the room, giving them a good vantage point of the center of the room. While the two had been wrapped, more candles had been lit, especially at the base of the poles. She knew it was hopeless, but Cathy tried to struggle. She couldn’t even manage an inch of movement. Behind her, Nathan tried the same, failed as well. He barely managed to turn his head and look at Cathy, as if trying to say something encouraging. But any words he had were sealed inside his mouth, hopelessly mummified by his wrappings. He so wanted to talk to her, to tell her everything, but would never get the chance. Both he and Cathy knew it, realized they would never speak again. That fact made both of them cry. In the center of the room, the man and his wife were now dressing themselves in elegant robes of fine silk and cotton, as well as adorning their heads in crowns of gold, silver, and rubies, all expertly crafted…and from the looks of them, incredibly ancient. When dressed, they walked towards the pole, holding the Book of the Dead wide open. The attendants were dragging the mummies of the other people towards the poles, all wiggling helplessly. Cathy could just barely make out the muffled screams of terror coming from behind the bandages. But strangely, no attendants came for Nathan and her. Near the poles in the center of the room, the man and woman began to speak, their voices high and excited. With her ears covered, Cathy had a hard time hearing them, but managed to make out a few words. From what she could figure, they were speaking ancient Egyptian, making it extremely difficult for her to understand what they were saying. All Cathy made out was the word ‘Osiris’, but nothing else. They talked for nearly ten minutes before stopping. For a few moments, nothing happened. The candles began to flicker. Watching the poles, Cathy saw something appear at the base, what appeared to be a small green dot. Tiny at first, but it soon began to grow, getting bigger and bigger with each passing second, turning into what appeared to be, crazily enough, a portal of some kind. What the hell?! It wasn’t possible…it just couldn’t be possible! Here she was, mummified alive and held captive in the basement of a lunatic couple’s mansion and here was what appeared to be an interdimensional portal. Cathy had read about them in her university, but that was over ten years ago. She couldn’t remember anything about them…like if they were good or bad. The portal eventually came to a stop when it was twelve feet in diameter. A strong wind filled the room, whipping past Cathy’s eyes. It was warm, humid air, completely out of place for the basement of a mansion. But that was nothing compared to the bizarre sounds she heard coming from that portal…mumbled babbling of tongues, wind howling, and what sounded like moans. This cannot be fucking happening! But it was. And from the look on the faces of the man and his wife, this was exactly what they wanted. Turning, they nodded to the attendants, who once again began to drag the mummies towards the pillars…only now it was horribly obvious what was going to happen. When each attendant got to within ten feet of the portal, they would reach down and roll their mummy forward. At first, it would only go a foot or so. But then the wind would suddenly pick up and the mummy was dragged towards the portal, inevitably squirming and struggling. But in each case it was always the same. The mummy would reach the portal, then teeter on the edge for just a second…and then fall in, vanishing from sight. The sight was horrifying, but Cathy couldn’t tear herself away from it. One by one, each mummy was rolled over, and then would fell into the portal, vanished as if gobbled up by an enormous predator. The whole process went quickly, taking no more then ten minutes for all twenty mummies. The faces of the man and his wife were blissful, utterly content. From the side, Ruth was watching the scene with a look of incredible lust, her hands frantically rubbing the crotch of her rubber bodysuit. Eventually, every mummy was gone, leaving just Cathy and Nathan. She had known that this moment would come, had even started to resign herself to it, but as the attendants cut her and Nathan down, Cathy struggled, tried to fight the fate chosen for her. But the attendants had done their job too well. She was forced into stillness, utterly helpless under her mummification. Nathan too was struggling, but like herself, he couldn’t escape. They were taken towards the portal. The man and woman paid them no heed, eyes closed in that serene look. Ruth saw them, but her tenderness was gone. There was a cold, hard look in her eyes as she watched them both, rubbing even faster. Cathy could only stare at her with desperate pleading. But she knew it was hopeless. Nothing could save them now. The attendants lay the two on the ground, gave a gentle push. It was almost comical how the two rolled, even as Cathy continued to struggle to gain even a single inch of movement, fighting against the portal. But it was hopeless, for an invisible force took hold of them both, began to drag them towards the portal. She couldn’t help it. Cathy began to scream. She screamed louder and louder and louder into her gag, yet was silent as she and Nathan rolled helplessly towards the portal. They reached it, stopped at the very edge, teetering. Nathan couldn’t see what was going on, but Cathy could. She stared down into the portal, saw a swirling whirlpool of energy that went down into infinity. The bottom, if there was one, was darkness and impossible to make out. There was no sign of the other mummies who had been pulled inside only minutes earlier. Warm, humid air was being pulled into the portal like water forced into a drain. It was impossible to fight it. But she tried. They both tried, struggling for all they were worth. But in the end there was no fighting the invisible force. In the final seconds, Cathy’s life flashed before her eyes. It was tragically short. Not even thirty and here she was, facing death…or possibly something worse. And there was nothing in her life’s experience that prepared her for this, to give her the strength to face the unknown. Absolutely nothing to give her the courage she so desperately wanted or needed. No… …there was one thing. She turned and looked at the man wrapped to her back. He too, was looking at her. That gave her a small measure of comfort. No matter what horrors, agonies, or bliss she and Nathan would find inside the portal…at least they would go together. The invisible force took hold of them both and yanked them into the portal. The basement, the couple, and Ruth quickly vanished as Cathy and Nathan plunged into the vortex, falling down, down, down into darkness, helpless as they plunged downwards. They continued to fall until they were little more then faint pinpricks of light against the dark. And then… Nothing.

This is what the future of humanity is like. After centuries of war, pollution and sucking away the planet’s resources, humanity eventually came to the realization that they had killed their planet. With nothing left, and everything to loose, they could no longer stay on earth. Steps had to be taken to ensure the survival of the human race. So, with all the technology and resources available, mankind’s greatest minds worked to devise a solution to save humanity. The solution was surprisingly simple, yet daunting. If humanity was going to survive, it needed to leave earth. Spaceships were designed, constructed, and built. Entire fleets sprung up within a few years while humanity tried to prepare for the journey, as well as the difficult task of selecting who would be privelaged enough to head into the stars. Five years after humanity’s salvation began, it was ready. A fleet of thirty starships, the biggest ever built, were sent out into the cosmos towards the planets found most likely to sustain life. Many were dozens of years away, some hundreds. But they had to be reached, no matter the cost. The ships departed, carrying with them a third of humanity. That was a year ago…and you were one of the ones fortunate enough to have a place on them. Yet space travel is not without its hazards. In addition to the problems of meteorites, asteroids, and all manner of space debris, there’s also the human factor. For every single person on board your ship has to stay awake during this journey. Suspended animation, such a common staple in science fiction stories, was not developed in time for the journey. There is no sleeping away at the trip, no lying down and waking up decades later to find that you’ve arrived at Quaxon twenty six in the Myda quadrant. No, you have to go through the days waking and sleeping. This led to problems. When confined to a relatively small space, humans will inevitably, no matter how hard they try to avoid it, be at each others throats. Conflicts will develop, tempers will flare, and people will be pushed to their limit and beyond. But that’s not the biggest problem facing your fellow passengers on this trip. No, the biggest problem is even greater. Sex. With little else to do to pass the time, sex is a favorite past time among space travelers. But the greatest law on board is that no unauthorized babies may be born. Space is a premium on board the ship, and even with recycling technologies, there simply is not enough resources to support hundreds of new lives. A dozen or so each year, but no more. Needless to say however, there would be some who will ignore this rule, or will be so obsessed with having a family that they will have babies and try to raise them in secret. Or they’ll just be so overcome with lust that they ignore the consequences of their actions. And the consequences are grave indeed. There is a reason why having an illegal baby is perhaps the greatest crime one can commit on this ship. That and murder, but murder has the unexpected advantage of freeing up more room and more resources. Babies, if too many are born, can lead to starvation and death for everyone else. That is why the crime of unauthorized births carries with it the greatest punishment. Space burial. That is what you are watching right now, standing in a hallway with eyes looking over a display screen. This is a ship wide event, and all are required to watch. The authorities do this as a warning to others, lest they be tempted to commit the same crime. It’s hard for you to watch the screen, because you know the two people being led in. Their names are Justi and Ted, dressed in standard issue spandex body gloves. Barely in their mid twenties, they’re some of the youngest passengers on board. Understandably, they look terribly frightened, eyes darting around the room. You wonder how they could be so stupid, so foolish. Hormones perhaps…perhaps their lust for each other was so great that they figured they couldn’t get caught if the hid the whole thing carefully. But they were wrong. No matter how hard you try to hide things on this ship, they will inevitably be found. Especially if it’s a squalling baby. The two captives are forced into the center of the room as the rulers of the ship come on screen, read the charges against them. Illegally conceiving a child, failing to report it to the authorities, keeping it hidden. All extremely serious charges, and the two know it. That’s why they’re shaking so much, because they know what awaits them. The baby, it is said, will be kept, since it is too late to abort it. But for it to take its place on board the ship, two people will have to be sacrificed to make room. With that, Justi and Ted are found guilty of their crimes and given their punishment…a sentence of space burial, to be carried out immediately. Justi weeps as she’s forced towards the center of the room and locked into shackles, leaving her dangling from the ceiling. Ted is forced there as well, locked beside his lover. They struggle against the shackles, try to slip loose, trying to avoid the fate chosen for them. From the other side of the room, two of the ships embalmers walk over, assistants wheeling huge crates behind them. Reaching the captives, the embalmers reach in and pull out huge rolls of silver bandages. These will be used to wrap up the captives and mummify them. Quickly shackling the ankles of the captives to the floor, the procedure begins. The embalmers walk around Ted and Justi again and again, wrapping the bandages around their squirming bodies, wrapping each one as tightly as they can, squeezing and compressing the bodies beneath. Justi is crying, weeping, pleading as she’s mummified, the bandages covering her spandex suit, forcing her legs together, encasing her breasts. But there will be no mercy, no reprive. She will have to endure the punishment for her crime. Ted isn’t fighting as much. He knows it’s hopeless, so he goes limp, allowing the embalmers to do their work. When the bandaging reaches the ankles, the shackles are released. Justi is fighting, but with her legs wrapped together, there is nothing she can do as her feet are wrapped as well. The procedure continues. Within ten minutes, feet, legs, chest, upper torso, neck, and arms are all wrapped up in the silver bandages, leaving two mummies dangling from the ceiling. Justi is looking herself over in a panic, trying to fight and escape her encasement. Ted too is fighting, but he knows it’s hopeless. Their hands are unshackled. Guards prop the two up as their arms are forced to their sides and wrapped, sealing them in place and rendering them useless. That really freaks out Justi, who’s screaming and pleading, trying to get away. But it’s almost over. The bandages are now wound around their heads. Slowly but steadily, making sure that each wrap is tight and compressing. Several bandages are forced into their mouths. Justi screams as she’s packed. Ted just opens his mouth and lets them do it. Then more bandages are wound from the top of the skull underneath the jaw, forcing their mouths shut, reducing Justi’s screams to a barely audible mumble. Eventually the bandages cover their mouths, noises and reach the eyes. You’ve only seen a few of these burials before, but this is always the hardest part. The eyes are always the last things to be covered and wrapped, and it’s the last you ever see of the human trapped within those gruesome cocoons. The cameras broadcasting the scene to the entire ship give you a very clear look at Justi and Ted’s eyes as they are covered. Here, more then any other stage of the procedure, the terror of their situation can be seen as their eyes widen, trying to take in as much as possible, for both know that the last things they will ever see is the embalming room, and the cameras recording their mummification. Then their eyes, so full of fear, are covered. Wrapped over. Sealed away forever. They are no longer people. They are now sealed inside silver cocoons, turned into helpless mummies. But there are signs of the people inside those wrappings, movement, struggles, wiggling. That’s why the embalmers wrap them up inside another layer. And then another…and another. You watch the screen as ten more layers of silver bandages are wound around the mummies of Ted and Justi, sealing them in even tighter. When it’s done, neither mummy moves, wiggles, or squirms. The punishment is almost complete. But there is still more to come. The mummies are held up as an extra large casket is rolled into the room. Normally the dead are simply pushed out of the ship’s airlock, but these two will, ironically, be given a privilege. They will have the honor of a casket burial. They are picked up and lowered into the casket, lying side by side. The camera changes angles so that it’s right above the casket looking down. You look closely, but you can’t see any movement from the glistening silver mummies inside. Perhaps one ever-so faint wiggle from Justi, but even that you can’t be sure of. In any case, the guards come over and strap the two down, immobilizing them. Needles and punched in through the wrappings, tubes hooked up and controls set. Then the lid is placed onto the casket and sealed, a faint hiss of gas coming out of the casket as it is made airtight. The final settings are made. Airflow is turned on, along with nutrients and a special solution to stop solid and liquid waste. An air recycler is activated. With all preparations complete, all that is left is the burial itself. As the stainless steel casket is wheeled out of the room and down the corridors, the screen displays information about the punishment the two will now endure. You’ve read it before, for everyone was briefed when this trip began and this part in particular was stressed more so then anything else. The punishment of space burial is harsh, draconian even. You’ve never agreed with it because it just seems too harsh. But, earth’s leaders said, with the survival of the human race at stake, sometimes desperate measures are needed to ensure that it will continue…including very, very harsh punishments. Justi and Ted will be taken to the airlock and their casket will be ejected into space. There, they will be left to drift through space, life support systems keeping them alive, ensuring that they will have time to ponder their horrifying fate as they drift through space for eternity, mummified and with no hope of escape or rescue. With the vastness of space it is very likely that they will never, ever be seen again by humans or any other species that inhabits the cosmos. Perhaps by some random chance they will crash into a planet, plunge into a black hole, or fall into a sun. If so, then they’ll be very, very lucky. Otherwise, they’ll live for decades…perhaps even centuries, sustained by the life support system. Either way, this is their punishment. An eternity spent mummified and alone in space…a harsh example to others not to jeopardize the future of their species. The camera switches angles again, now inside the airlock. Justi and Ted’s casket lies inside. A few moments pass, then the door is opened. All air is sucked out, taking the casket with it. Switching angles again, the camera tracks the casket as it spins head over heels, spinning out into the void of space. At first the casket is easily seen, but as it drifts further and further away it becomes harder and harder to keep track of. Then it’s little more then a tiny silver speck. And then…it’s gone. The screen fades to black. The sentence has been carried out. For you and everyone else on the ship, the journey to Quaxon twenty six continues. For Justi and Ted, their punishment has begun. You walk away from the screen, shaking your head at the stupidity of the two. A few minutes of lust and sex and now they’re gone, buried alive in space. But perhaps they deserve to be remembered with pity. After all, they were just like everyone else here. Human…fallible. Capable of making mistakes and learning from them. Perhaps they do deserve to be remembered with pity. You hope so…because you hope that when the authorities find out that your girlfriend is illegally pregnant, they’ll take pity on you both.

BANG When Charles died, he didn’t expect it to be so quick. A gunshot to the brain ends life very quickly, almost instantly, and that was what happened to Charles. A single 9mm pistol bullet entering his brain and tearing it to shreds, ending his life, killing him before he even hit the ground. In terms of afterlife beliefs, Charles didn’t have any. He didn’t really know what to expect upon death most likely oblivion and nothingness. It was, in a way, this openness that made his first moments after death all the more interesting. ...

It was the bright lights that woke Angela. Blinking, she opened her eyes. Her vision was fuzzy at first, but it steadily came into focus. She looked around, realized that she was in an unfamiliar room. Understandably confused, she tried to figure out what was going on. The first thing that came to her groggy mind was that she had gone home, going in through the front door only to smell something sickly sweet. Wondering if she had left the gas on, she had only managed a few steps before loosing consciousness. ...

Author’s Note: This story is best read in the dark. October 18th Well Journal, I think I just may have had my final, real lucky break today. What’s that you ask? I’ve won something!? Yes, strange but true. The event? I’m part of a group that’s getting one week free at what is apparently the world’s best resort for kinksters the world over. That’s right, Underview resort! I know, interesting name. What’s really interesting though is that I’ve never heard of this place before. Neither has anyone else who have won the contest with me. Better list them out: Rhys, TJ, Steve, Reinette, Tiedash, Janey, and Slesia. I’m going to be staying with some of my friends from an online form at a resort where we can all indulge in our little fantasies and be free from prying eyes! This is all so cool! I think I’d better get some sleep. More to come. ...

Six months. That was how long Samantha had been a resident at the Wensly household. Not as a guest, yet not even as a household worker. Her position here was a specialty… Samantha was the household slave. Not a position she had really wanted, mind you. Rather, it was the result of some rather unfortunate circumstances. Not being able to pay off some bills towards her boss, she had elected the route of becoming an indentured servant… but a few little contract changes and she essentially became the property of Mrs. Wensly, owner of the household. ...

When a modern day trial is completed, one of two things happen. If the defendant has been found innocent, then he or she is free to go, walking out of the courthouse in the clothes they came in. If the defendant is found guilty however…then their ordeal in the justice system is just beginning. They are taken from the courtroom into the basement and changed into their new outfits…orange one piece jumpsuits, along with their new jewelry, so to speak. That of course, being handcuffs and leg irons. ...

When Solene found herself lying on a table, her body wrapped head to toe in bandages, and her eyes about to be wrapped over… that was when she really began to panic. Considering what was coming for her, it was to be expected. After all, being buried alive would be enough to ruin anyone’s day. For Solene, it was no different. To an observer, the question would no doubt be why she was being wrapped up head to toe in body wrappings similar to that of ancient Egyptian mummies. ...

“Who’s that lady?” I asked. “Oh, that thing?” My new employer said. “It’s Wendy. She’s just a piece of decoration.” For a decoration, she was beautiful. So amazingly beautiful. “She’s not…kidnapped or anything, right?” I asked. “Oh no, she’s here voluntarily. She’s the kind that…well…let’s just say that she loves getting attention. What better way then by dressing up like that?” If the woman in that suit wanted attention, she sure as hell was going to get it. ...

Authors note: This story is based on the story “PS” by RubberH, where a woman, in the distant future is sentenced to spend a year encased in rubber in public. This story is set in the same universe, just slightly before the events of that story. I wonder if this time I’ll still remember what grass looks like… … I suppose my life’s story isn’t all that important. Those of us who end up in my situation really don’t exist anymore. All that someone would need to know is that when I was a young man, I was warned early on in school about the dangers of turning to a life of crime. ...

She was ready. All the preparations had been made. She had quit her job, sold her car, her house, and given away all the money in her bank account. She wasn’t going to need them anyway, not where she was going. Now she stood in her living room, wearing a skintight black catsuit that covered her entire body, save her head. There was a cage in the room that held the world’s largest anaconda. She had avoided feeding it for two months to make sure that it was hungry. Judging by its non-stop twitching and fidgeting, it was. This snake was going to eat her alive. For she had tired of the world and its miseries. She was going to leave it all. And the snake was her ticket. It would take her in its embrace and swallow her whole and alive. Her rubberized crotch tingled at the thought. Only a few more things to do before she was ready. She went and locked the front and back door, closed the windows and blinds, and made sure that it was impossible for anyone to enter during her departure. Walking back into the living room, she looked at a table where she had put her favorite toys. An inflatable ball gag, a black leather mouth cover, and a pair of leather cuffs. She loved playing with these toys of hers. She had decided to wear them while she was being swallowed. She picked up the ball gag first. Opening her mouth, she placed the rubber gag in until it was as far back as possible. She took the straps and buckled them down behind her head. When the buckle was comfortably snug, she took the small hand pump and squeezed it repeatedly, filling the rubber within her mouth. It expanded, squeezing itself into every nook and cranny within her mouth until it finally ran out of room. She tried to speak, to test out how effective the gag was. She could only manage small mumbling noises. The gag permitted her to breathe, but denied her the ability to speak at all. Satisfied that she had gagged herself well, She took the leather mouth cover. It was a piece of black leather that fit around the wearer’s mouth up to the nose, so that the mouth and cheeks were covered. She placed the device over her mouth and did the straps behind her head, feeling the cool leather squeeze her cheeks. With the straps done, she tugged at the device. It refused to leave her mouth, hugging it tightly. There was one more toy to put on. But first she had to attend to the snake. She walked over to its cage and undid the lock holding the lid down. The snake looked on with interest as the lid was removed. With the snake taken care of, she turned to the last toy on the table. A pair of leather cuffs lined with thick foam, connected by a thick wire. She picked them up and slowly placed one on her left wrist. It went over the rubber and was locked shut. The buckle was tightened until her wrist was held tightly by the thick and unflinching foam. She paused. What she was about to do was the ultimate step. There would be no turning back. Once she did this, there would be no release. Taking a deep breath, she moved her arms behind her back. Working entirely by hand, she placed the remaining cuff on her right wrist. It too took the wrist into its grip as the straps were tightened. It was done. Her arms were now locked there, and there was no way to undo them. She turned and saw the snake coming out of its cage, gliding silently onto the carpeted floor. She slowly got onto her knees, then lay down on the carpet. She closed her eyes and waited. She felt the snake sliding up to her, felt it sniffing her rubber-clad body with its tongue. She waited patiently as the snake slowly moved into position to eat the woman who wanted to be eaten. The woman’s fingers twitched in anticipation. Now in position, the snake opened its maw to reveal a pink tunnel slick with saliva. The tunnel went deep and ended with darkness. Within an hour, the woman would be taken deep into this tunnel. The jaws were unhinged. The snake slid its protective lens over its eyes. It paused, seeing if the human would try to escape. There was no movement, no frantic struggle to escape. It began. She felt her rubber-encased feet being moved into a slick and wet maw. Powerful muscles pulled at her feet, pulling them slowly but surely into the snake’s throat. She kept her eyes closed as the snake moved its way, inch by inch up her body. Her feet were now gone, taken into the throat. Her rubber legs were now being swallowed, saliva dripping onto the shiny material and sliding around, making the legs easier to take in. The pressure on her legs was tight, but not uncomfortable. She felt the warmth of the snake’s body as it continued to take her into its body where she would be digested while still alive. But the proposition did not frighten her. Her feet and calves were already inside the snake, where they were held tightly by wet and warm muscles. The snake was now up to her buttocks. It continued to swallow and spew forth saliva in an attempt to prepare the woman for digestion. But the saliva succeeded only in making her rubber skin shine and glisten. The creamy and thick buttocks were slowly taken into the snake’s mouth, the plump and fat muscles becoming compressed and squeezed into the tight hole. She turned her head to see how the snake was coming along. The serpent was finishing up her buttocks, the smooth rubber making them look delicious even as they vanished from sight into the snake’s body. The thirty-foot serpent still had plenty of room for her body. Her legs were now but bulges within the snake’s throat, which was now stretched to accommodate them. Curiosity getting the better of her, she tried moving her legs. The bulges moved, but the muscles and the tight throat held them in check. She felt around with her restrained hands and succeeded in feeling the snake’s upper jaw with her fingers. She touched and stroked the jaw tenderly. Her smooth and compressed midcenter was now being slowly gulped into the endlessly hungry mouth of the snake. But she was not afraid. This felt good, felt right. As if she was moving on to meet her destiny, the place she was destined to be. The snake swallowed, and she was pulled in deeper. Her bound arms were slowly being pulled into the snake. The snake had to open its jaws wider as it accepted the bound arms into its system. The warmth and tightness of the snake around her swallowed body was intoxicating. She found her eyelids becoming heavy. The snake moved up to her breasts, tight and shiny under the layer of black rubber. Her nipples grew hard as the snake slowly moved its mouth over the creamy mountains and took them in. It was close. The end of the snakes meal. Now only the woman’s shoulders, neck and head remained to be ingested. The snake proceeded to move upwards, swallowing the woman’s shoulders and neck. During this time the woman moaned in pleasure. Being swallowed felt so good, so warm and tight. Her moans were muffled by the thick gag that filled her mouth and silenced her. Saliva began to drip onto her neck as the snake reached her head. It was almost over. She was silent and still as the snake continued to swallow her alive. Her attention briefly turned to the living room that the snake was in. She no longer felt that it was her room. She was now part of the snake. The jaws cupped over her hair and jaw. The snake paused, gathering its strength for the final swallow. The woman looked straight ahead, patiently waiting for the snake to finish eating her. The snake then makes its move. With a final swallow, the snake takes the woman into its mouth, swallowing and covering her with saliva. The woman watches as her vision is replaced with the snake’s throat. Pink and shiny muscles fill her view as the outside world slowly vanishes. With the woman inside her, the snake closes its mouth and eats the woman alive. Inside the snake’s throat, the woman watches from the inside as the snakes mouth closes, sealing her inside forever. Darkness is now upon her as the snake takes her into its stomach. It’s warm and tight inside the snake. Surrounded by rubber and warm pulsing life, the woman closes her eyes and accepts her fate. The snake continues to swallow the woman, who is now just a large bulge within its skin. The bulge moves slowly downwards until it reaches the stomach. There the bulge rests, still moving and squirming within the living snake. With its meal now inside its stomach, the snake rests its head on the floor and drifts into sleep. While it rests, the bulge moves and squirms for a few more minutes before it too settles down. The bulge grows quiet as it too slips into a sleep that can never be woken from. The two lie on the floor. Within a few days the bulge will disappear entirely. When the house’s new owner moves in a week later, she finds a big snake as a welcoming present. But the previous owner is nowhere to be found.

Drider 4: War! Special thanks to Kemmer for suggesting some of the ideas in this story The cold night air stung Antonio as he walked through the desert. He cursed himself for not bringing a coat. He didn’t even bring a jacket. All he had was a shirt and his jeans. “Stupid, stupid!” He cursed himself. “You’re such a fool Antonio! You might freeze out here, and you didn’t think to bring a jacket did you?” ...

continued from part one Part 2 London was silent. The sound of cars, of crowds, of people, were all gone. The city, for the first time in its history, was totally silent. There were large webs strung up through the city, between every building and every street. On each web were up to two dozen silk bundles. They were still and quiet most of the time, but occasionally they wiggled ever so slightly, and a muffled cry could faintly be heard. ...

continued from part two Part 3 “Wow dad,” Mona said. “She’s beautiful.” “Really? I do admit, she actually looks quite attractive in that shell of hers. Do you think its thick enough?” Mona walked up to the concrete shell and knocked on it. A thunk greeted her attempt. “Yes, I think its thick enough.” “One question father.” “Yes?” “Why did you put her in that rubber suit?” Pierre grinned sheepishly. “Well….uhm…oh, you know. To keep her…warm. Yes, that’s it. Keep her warm!” ...

Adapted from an original idea by Pablo *** There was an ear piercing scream as the woman ran through the snow, her legs pumping hard as the giant creature reached down. With one might grab of it’s gigantic claws, it took her in its scaly hand and lifted her clean off the ground. Fighting with all her might, the woman attacked the hand that held her, but alas, to no avail. ...

story continues from part one Part Two Inside the shipping crate and within her animal carrier, Julia was doing her best not to panic. But considering how she was blind, wrapped up and helpless, managing to avoid panicking was a very difficult task indeed. Knowing that it was useless to struggle, she didn’t even try, though her every instinct was telling her to do so. “Okay, calm down. Calm down.” She thought. “You can figure this out. You can get out of here okay. The most important thing right now is to keep your cool and not panic.” ...

Please read the first story before reading this sequal *** “Come on Joe, get that net up!” “Yeah, yeah, I hear you!” The winch on the old fishing boat groaned and creaked as it was turned to full speed. Smoke began to belch as it continued hauling in the large net that was dragging in the ocean far below. “I’m not sure the winch can take it!” The captain was not daunted. “It’ll take it! Just relax already!” ...

Part 1 of 2 Another day, another dull routine at work. Though working at the international sex slave factory was definitely an uncommon career, it could get a little dull at times, and for poor Albert, this was one of those times. Albert was the man who supervised the shipping area of the factory. It was his task to oversee the safe packing and shipping of slaves who were to be sent to their owners all over the world. Today had seen a large shipment of mummies to be shipped off. Punching his time clock in, Albert picked up his hard hat and overalls. He picked up the clipboard and looked at the printout. Fifty hand-wrapped mummies, sixteen body bag mummies, twelve straightjackets and six mail bags. The pleasant chime sounded, and it was off to the floor. “Morning Albert!” A voice called out. “Morning Tim. Looks like we’ve got a busy day ahead!” “Yep! But looking at the lists, it looks like a fun loadout!” The workers took their places next to the conveyor belts and waited for the machinery to start up. Boxes of every shape and build were put in place, packed with shipping foam. The red warning lights lit up, the buzzers sounded, and the conveyer belts began rolling. “Okay people!” Albert called out. “Let’s stay sharp! Human cargo coming through!” The first body appeared out of the rubber flaps. It was one of the hand wrapped mummies, wrapped in dark blue bandages. Albert followed the mummy as it went down the conveyer belt, wiggling and squirming. Albert did a quick check on his clipboard. Slave number 3498B. She was to be shipped to a wealthy warlord in a Middle Eastern country, along with two straightjackets. Special notes indicated that this one used to be a lawyer. She had been captured and forced into slavery against her will. Notes indicated a feisty and unwilling temperament. Mummy slave 3498B reached the end of the conveyer belt. The workers quickly picked her up and did a quick visual inspection. No damage was present, though one of the bandages needed to be sewn back into place. As one of the workers did that, another went and clipped a collar around slave 34’s neck. The black collar was locked in place around the bandaged throat and activated. With this tracking system, the warlord would know exactly when his precious cargo was to arrive. Satisfied that slave 3498B was ready to be shipped, the workers placed her inside a coffin like box, surrounded her with shipping foam and placed the lid on. Three quick snaps of the locks, and mummy slave 3498B was ready for shipping. As her box was placed into a large shipping container, another mummy came out. Albert observed the number on the mummy’s wrappings, and checked it against his records. Ah yes, slave number 1535G. This slave was to be shipped with number 3498B to his new desert home. Special notes indicated that this was a voluntary slave, who used to be a disgruntled college student. The notes said that he had willingly submitted to being wrapped. Albert let out a smile. It was always good when all parties involved in this trade were willing and submissive. Slave 1535G was picked up, checked, collared, and placed in his box. Though his face could not be seen within his wrappings, slave 1535G’s body posture was relaxed and happy. The lid was closed, and the locks activated. Two more mummies ready for shipment. As the rest of the warlord’s order was processed, Albert walked over to the next conveyor belt. This one was processing a small order, consisting of a single slave. Slave number 56A124 was coming out of the hole, dressed in a tight white straightjacket with blue tights. Special equipment included a pair of gold colored ankle cuffs and a black leather muzzle. Notes said that this slave was a felon with a life sentence, which had been commuted to life as a slave. Looking at her gagged face, she didn’t look too happy as she was picked up off the conveyer belt and forced into her shipping box. She looked quite frightened as she was strapped down to the inside of her box and blindfolded. She let out a muffled whimper as the box lid was closed and locked. With a great shove, the box was pushed into the back of the shipping truck, which promptly drove away, taking the slave to her new master in Canada . The next conveyer belt was packaging an interesting order. A high-ranking official in the Chinese government had a fetish for American brides, and had placed an order for ten of them. And now there were ten slaves dressed as brides, their arms and legs cuffed and shackled. They were currently ungagged, but had been warned about protesting. The ten shackled brides, dresses and all, were forced into individual shipping boxes. The shipping attendants pushed the billowy dresses into the boxes, made sure the cuffs on ankles and wrists were tight, and began to shut the lids on each bride. Albert checked the order again, going over the list. “Hold it!” he called out. “Our client made a change in his order. He wants eleven brides, not ten.” “But we don’t have another bride.” A worker named Susan said. “All the other slaves are being trained, and we don’t have any to spare.” Albert paused, thinking the situation over. Wait… he had an idea. “Oh, I think we can get one more bride.” With well-practiced moves, Albert quickly walked up and slapped a pair of handcuffs around Susan’s wrists. Pressing a button around his belt, three guards walked over. “Susan, you are under arrest. You have been chosen to be converted into a lifetime slave.” Ignoring Susan’s shocked face, he turned to the guards. “Take her to the dressing department, tell them that we need another bride.” The guards nodded and began dragging Susan off the floor. Company policy does work sometimes, Albert mused. If you’ve got a troublesome employee, or need a slave quickly, go ahead and arrest one of them. After all, we can always cover it up. That was one of the perks of working with the largest slave company in the world. If it had managed to keep its operations secret for over a hundred years, then it could do anything. Fifteen minutes later, Susan was marched back into the shipping room, dressed in a silk bride’s dress. A new shipping crate had been prepared for her. “Albert!” She cursed as the guards forced her towards the crate. “You can’t do this!” Pulling out a pair of turn of the century shackles, Albert walked up to her. “Oh, you know fully well I can.” With the guards holding her arms still, Albert put a transportation belt around Susan’s waist, then threaded the handcuffs through the large O ring. “Besides.” He said as he locked the cuffs around Susan’s silk gloves. “I hear that Chinese food is really tasty. You might get extra for being a slave for life.” She spat on him as he finished applying the locks. “Now now, don’t make me gag you. I’ve read that having a ball gag in your mouth for a trip to China can make you very sore.” Susan gave him the meanest glare she could. “Damn you.” She cursed as she was forced into her shipping box. “Damn you.” He gave a final check to make sure her shackles were nice and tight. Satisfied that she wouldn’t be able to move her wrists from her waist, he closed the box lid and locked it. The crates filled with bound brides were loaded onto a shipping truck, and were soon heading down the road towards the airport. “Have fun in China .” Albert giggled as he watched the truck, along with his ex-coworker, vanish around a curve. Three hours passed, and forty slaves were packaged and shipped. The work was tiring, with Albert constantly jogging back and forth to insure that each slave was carefully packaged and shipped. Though every slave, willing or unwilling, was forced to wear restraints, a few accidents occasionally happened on the floor. Only one such incident today, with a wetsuited male managing to undo his handcuffs. He managed to knock over three employees and was strangling another before being subdued. Ten minutes later, he was straightjacketed, cuffed and mummified. His squirming form was forced into his shipping box and locked in just as the break whistle was activated. Easing into his chair in the cafeteria, Albert breathed deeply, enjoying the feel of his tired muscles unwinding. As a chained slave brought over some drinks, Albert and Tim caught up on the latest family and company activities. “So,” Albert began. “Who all did we loose this week?” “Billy, Harrison, and Ang all got shipped off to Malaysia last Monday.” “How did they go?” “Catsuited, then mummified in red horse bandages.” Albert nodded. “Nice. Sounds like fun. Anybody else?” “Well, Lisa was straightjacketed yesterday and was shipped off, new property of a lucky businessman from Los Angeles .” There was a loud muffled scream from the other side of the room. The two looked over and watched as a green plastic mummy was carried down a hallway, its ponytail sticking out of its head. “Well, there goes Anna.” Tim observed. “I warned her not to complain about the long hours. I wonder where’s she going.” “Five bucks says the UK.” “Okay, you’re on.” The two quieted down as they sipped their drinks. Tim wondered what movie he was going to watch at home tonight. Albert wondered how long it would be before he was arrested and turned into a slave. It was pretty much inevitable that every employee of slave international would one day be forced into slavery themselves. If you stayed on longer, you would be sold to a nice master. Rank and experience had its privileges. Albert had been there for about twenty years, shipping, carting, and supervising human goods all over the world. Nobody had lasted more then twenty one years. His time would no doubt come. He hoped that he would have a nice master, one who was kind to him. As he had no immediate family, he was looking forward to his inevitable adventure. The whistle sounded, and it was time to go back to work. The straightjackets were next. All of these slaves were willing volunteers, homeless men and women who had volunteered for a new kind of life where all their needs would be taken care of. The crates they would be traveling in were late, so the eleven remaining straightjacketed slaves quietly talked to themselves. Albert went up and inspected each one, making sure their clothing and their restrictive jacket were on nice and tight. “Excuse me.” Slave 895H asked. “But my jacket is a little loose. Could you tighten it a bit?” “Of course.” Albert took the lady’s sleeves and tightened them, buckling down the straps and belts. “Tight enough?” “Oh yes, very comfy. Thank you.” At that point, the crates arrived, ready for their occupants. Albert reviewed his clipboard. “It seems that you’re going to have your mouth taped shut.” Albert told slave 895H. “Oh goody! I was hoping my mouth would be taped shut. I just love the feeling!” Albert smiled as he pulled out the green tape. Slave 895H closed her mouth and smiled as Albert wound it around her mouth. After three wraps, he was sure it was closed tightly enough. “Now you have a good life, okay?” Slave 895H nodded enthusiastically as she was picked up and placed in her crate. As the straightjacketed slaves were packed up and shipped, Albert looked at his list, and at the clock. The end of the day was fast approaching. His shift would end soon, and it would be back to the dingy apartment, where it would be a lonely dinner for one… Two mail bags came down, each securely holding a catsuited slave. They were simple to ship. Simply plop them into the back of the truck and away they went. At last, the last orders of the day were about to be processed. The sixteen body bag mummies. Albert began checking off the remaining forms when he heard them behind him. “Albert Allen?” “Yes?” There was the clink of metal. “I’m afraid we’re body bag mummy short. You’ve just been drafted.” Albert let out a small smile and put his clipboard down on the edge of the conveyer. The guards were very gentle as they locked the handcuffs around his wrists. Albert noticed how this was the end of his old existence. He was on his way to a new life, a new adventure. Fifteen minutes later, Albert was in the mummy room, a section of the factory where slaves were mummified for those who had a mummy fetish. He had already made the decision to cooperate with his ex-employers, now his captors. He had cooperated when they shaved his body down and told him to get into the spandex body suit, and now he stood in the mummy room, awaiting further instructions. Three attendants brought out a large black human sized bag. Albert grinned as he recognized it. It was one of the special models, a mix of neoprene, spandex, and latex. Very tight and very soft. He had never had the pleasure of trying one on before. “We are going to put you in this bag.” One of the attendants said. “We will then wrap you up in bandages to secure you.” Albert nodded. “Well then, why don’t we start?” The attendants looked a bit shocked. “You are aware of what’s going on aren’t you?” One of them asked. “Oh yeah, I knew this would happen eventually. But I’m looking forward. I hope though, that my new owner and master is nice.” As the attendants gently moved him towards the bag, they smiled. “Oh don’t worry, I think you’ll like her.” The bag was held up, the back unzipped and waiting for an occupant to enter. Albert happily put his legs into the bag and worked them into the leg sleeves at the bottom. The soft material felt good against his second skin, warm and comfy. Standing in the bag, Albert then felt around for the internal arm sleeves. This was the biggie. Once he put his arms in those sleeves and the back was zipped up, he would be completely helpless and at the mercy of his captors. He didn’t hesitate. He found the sleeves and slid his arms in, relishing the soft, tight feeling. In a way, it felt like he was putting on a tight pair of gloves. When his arms were fully in, the attendants went to work. They adjusted the mummy bag slightly to ensure a tight fit, then they began to pull the heavy duty zipper up. Albert did nothing but shiver slightly from excitement as the zipper was pulled up, and the bag tightened around him. When the zipper was fully up, the attendants slipped a small lock on, ensuring that it wouldn’t come undone by mistake. Now locked into the bag, the attendants gently lay the new slave down on a table. Albert felt very relaxed as he went still in his new body bag. Large black belts were pulled out and applied around his body. They were pulled through straps around his ankles, knees, waist, elbows, and chest. The tightness was delicious to Albert, feeling another restraint being applied to him. Now that he was secured inside his bag, the attendants began the process of wrapping Albert in a layer of tight, elastic bandages. Well trained by years of experience, they quickly wound the elastic bandages around Albert and his tight bag. Albert could do nothing, now that he was locked into his bags. The internal sleeves forced him to keep his arms still and in place. He discovered, much to his dismay, that he couldn’t reach and pleasure himself. The internal sleeves denied him a pleasure he had always enjoyed. In five minutes, the bandages were wrapped super tight up to his waist. It was wonderfully tight, but not to the point of excess. The new slave felt very warm and safe as his new cocoon began to wind its way up his body. A few minutes later, the bandages had reached his shoulders. Curiously, the attendants stopped. One of them walked into Albert’s field of vision. “Your new owner has specifically requested for you to travel blindfolded.” Albert smiled. “Well, it lets me guess where I’m going!” “She also ordered for you to be gagged.” “Yes!” Albert thought. “I just love those gags!” Opening his mouth wide, Albert happily accepted the ruby red gag that was pushed into his mouth. Unlike normal ball gags, this gag was specially designed for long term wear. Albert giggled as he tasted the plastic over his tongue. The attendant smiled and produced a hood constructed of the same materials as the body bag. She slowly reached over and placed it on the top of Albert’s head. The hood was pulled over Albert’s head. He watched with great interest as the material was pulled over his eyes, then over his head and down until it completely covered his head and his throat. Albert could still see out of the eyeholes. But the attendants had a surprise for him. Albert watched as they pulled out a blindfold, then slowly began to cover his eyes, thus blinding him until his master decided to let him see again. The last thing he saw was the attendant’s smiling face. With Albert now blindfolded, the attendants had one last surprise for their slave. They pulled out a black leather collar and fastened it around Albert’s neck. The posture collar quickly forced Albert into keeping his neck and head straight. The buckles and straps were set, and the collar was locked onto his neck. It was almost over. The attendants resumed the slave’s mummification, winding the thick bandages over his neck, and then around his head. With one layer completed, Albert was no longer a free man. He was now a mummified slave, completely at the mercy of his new masters. The attendants did one more layer of the stretchy bandages, just to make sure he was securely wrapped and restrained. Thirty minutes later, the second layer was complete. There was one last step to do. The chief attendant leaned over Albert’s head. “Your name is no longer Albert. For the rest of your life, you will now be known as slave 7538Y.” Slave 7538Y wiggled with pleasure inside his thick cocoon. He was picked up and carried over to the conveyer belt in the back of the room. The slave was placed onto it, and was swiftly carried away and out of sight. The attendants sighed. Another job well done. Another mummy off to his master. They turned to leave, ready to go home. Instead, they found a locked door and six new attendants, each carrying rolls of bandages. “It’s time for your… retirement.” One of the guards said. Slave 7538Y took the trip that he had sent so many others on. He was carried down the conveyer belt, quietly waiting for his fate. He was received by the employees at the floor. They knew who was inside this cocoon of restraints and were extra gentle as they placed him inside his shipping crate. The new floor supervisor double-checked the details of slave 7538Y’s trip. Confirming that everything was in order, the supervisor nodded. The lid was placed on and locked. The crate was pushed, along with fifteen other crates, onto a shipping truck. They were piled one on top of another until they were all inside. With the crates secured, the truck drove off into the night, carrying sixteen slaves off to a new life. Slave 7538Y was quiet inside his crate. He listened to the sounds of travel, but he was growing sleepy. He felt so safe, so secure inside his own private crate. He had nothing to worry about. All of his troubles, all of his fears were behind him. A new life awaited him. All he had to do was lie back and enjoy the ride. Unable to move, unable to escape even if he wanted to, slave 7538Y drifted off into the warm, safe arms of sleep. ...

Another day, another dull routine at work. Though working at the international sex slave factory was definitely an uncommon career, it could get a little dull at times, and for poor Albert, this was one of those times. Albert was the man who supervised the shipping area of the factory. It was his task to oversee the safe packing and shipping of slaves who were to be sent to their owners all over the world. ...

continued from part one Part 2 Inga never expected to have her package delivered so quickly. Less then three days after placing the order for a slave, and it arrived at her doorstop. It was a very pleasant moment. She had been on her leather sofa, wondering where her slave was going to sleep. There was the upstairs bedroom, but it might be difficult to get him up there… Maybe the basement. It would certainly be more efficient for her, but her poor slave would be all alone… As she contemplated this problem, the doorbell chimed, announcing the arrival of the mailman. Inga wondered what awaited her. Bills no doubt. Lots of junk mail. Maybe a catalogue or two. When she opened the oak door, she didn’t see any of those. Instead, she saw a gigantic box sitting on her doorstep. There were air holes cut into the side of the box. It was roughly seven feet long. There was a large label on the top of the box, which bared the letters “ISF”. Inga let out a squeal of joy. Had it really arrived so quickly?! She hardly dared to hope. The mailman helped her bring it inside the house, where it was placed in the living room. The mailman asked what was making her so excited, and was quite curious when he learned that it was a new pet. Inga breathed a sigh of relief as he left. She couldn’t wait to open the box and see her new pet. She almost pulled a muscle as she frantically pried open the box to reveal the packing peanuts inside, still covering the crates precious cargo. There was a small booklet inside the box. Picking it up, Inga began to read it. “Dear owner: Thank you for purchasing your slave from us. Each and every slave we sell comes with our seal of quality. Should your slave ever need replacing, simply let us know and we’ll help you as fast as we can.” “Yes, yes, get on with it.” Inga thought. “Your slave should serve you well. Through our years of research, we have found that treating your slave with affection and kindness is the fastest way to earn your slave’s loyalty. Of course, you are free to treat your slave any way you wish!” Inga chuckled. She didn’t have any intention of mistreating this slave. Too impatient to read the warranty, she tossed the booklet onto the floor and began to scrape away the peanuts covering her new friend. She gasped. There he was. Exactly as she had ordered. Firm body, good length and build. The tight bandages wrapped around the body, compressing and containing him. And beneath that layer was that oh so sexy body bag she longed to see, and beneath that lay that wonderfully tight spandex body suit. And beneath that layer was her new, precious slave. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She let out a squeal of delight, hopped into the crate and scooped the mummified slave into her arms. She hugged him close to her chest, stroking his bandaged head. “Hello there!” She cooed. “I’m your new mistress!” Her slave didn’t move, but then again, she had placed an order for very tight restraints. “Well, lets get you out of this cramped box!” At first glance the idea seemed ridiculous. Here was a Swedish lady, and here was a big, well built man. But affection and love can give strength, which easily enabled Inga to lift him out of the box and place him on the floor. “Whew!” She said, wiping the sweat off her forehead. “You’re heavy! Did you work out before you were all wrapped up?” Again, her slave made no indication that he heard. But then again, his restraints were doing their job wonderfully. It was then that Inga noticed a small sheet of paper in the crate her slave had been shipped in. Picking it up, she looked at the numbers and letters written on it. “Your slave’s identification number is 7538Y.” “Well seventy five.” She said seductively. “I think that’s a fine name for a handsome slave like you. Now, why don’t we get you somewhere more comfortable?” It took another twenty minutes, but Inga managed to move 7538Y onto her fine leather couch. She placed several pillows under his head, just to be sure that he was comfortable. “Comfy?” She asked. No response. A thought entered Inga’s head. It was a slightly grim thought, but one that needed to be addressed. She quickly looked at her slave’s chest and watched closely. To her relief, it did move up and down slightly, indicating that yes indeed, her slave was alive. But was he awake? There was one way she could find out. She leaned over his head. “If you can hear me, stop breathing for a moment.” She watched his chest. To her delight, the up and down movement stopped. “Okay, you can breathe again.” The up and down movement started up again. “I bet you’re wondering when I’m going to let you out?” She giggled. “Well, I think I’ll take my time. I want to get to know you, get an idea of what you’re like. And besides, I like hugging my teddy bears.” And that was what she did. Inga reached over and took this big, mummified man into her arms. She held him close to her chest, squeezing and stroking his bandaged body, loving every second of it. Here was a man that she could count on to be with her for the rest of her life, to listen to her even if he didn’t want to, to be with her even if he didn’t want to, to be held, even in the unlikely event that he didn’t want to. 7538Y didn’t give any sign or indication of what he was feeling then, buried deep beneath layers of restraints. Inga hoped he could feel her devotion to him. She had only known him for less then an hour, but already she felt instantly attached to him. She could unwrap him right then and there… or she could increase the pleasure. Let him stay in there for a day or two. Inga grinned. Yes… that was what she would do. Dinner that night was an interesting affair. The Swedish woman managed to move her slave into the dinning room, where he was propped up on a chair and tied down in place by large Velcro straps. Inga savored her soup, letting its warmth soothe her stomach. She looked over at 7538Y. She wondered what he was thinking. He was probably hungry. Maybe a little thirsty. His still form did not show any of his buried and restrained emotions. “Are you hungry my slave?” Inga asked. No answer. “Well, why don’t we give you some food tomorrow?” No answer. Finishing her soup, Inga looked at her slave while pondering where to keep him for the night. The basement was too cold, the main floor was a bit cool… but the upstairs bedroom was just right. An hour later, 7538Y was in the master bedroom, lying down on a guest bed. Inga was lying in the master bed, looking lovingly at her slave. “Well,” she began. “I think tomorrow, I’ll start unwrapping you to see that lovely bag you’re in. Is it comfy?” 7538Y gave no response. Inga smiled and turned off the light. “I’ll take that as a yes.” ** Sleep was utterly blissful. After all, Inga had a nice teddy bear to squeeze when she woke up. And she took full advantage of that. 7538Y was squeezed for about half an hour after Inga woke up. She didn’t feel like getting out of bed just yet. Lying here, holding her slave in her arms, was much more satisfying. But she had to get up eventually. She slowly stretched her limbs, welcoming the blood flowing through them. “Good morning slave!” She said as she got out of bed and walked over to the curtains. With a quick flick, they opened, letting the warm sun shine in. “Let’s have some breakfast.” Inga said. Taking a small knife from a chest, she walked over to her slave. Though it saddened her to cut away these wonderful looking bandages, she knew it had to happen eventually. Besides, she would get a big reward for giving up the white beauty that bound her beloved. A small square was cut away from 7538Y’s crotch area. It took a little bit longer then expected, but Inga squealed when she saw it. The zipper was in the right spot, just above her slave’s groin. This little feature had cost extra, but was worth every penny. “Oh googely bear!” She giggled as she rubbed 7538Y’s crotch. “I think it’s time for you to feed me breakfast!” 7538Y made his first movement since arriving at his new home. He managed to quiver slightly with excitement. The sensuous rubbing had the desired effect. A bulge quickly took shape that began to grow into a mountain. The zipper in the bag was opened, revealing the spandex skin beneath it, covering the still-growing mountain. The zipper on that was opened as well, and the giant tree sprung forth. Inga decided to make it hard and fast. She grabbed the giant, meaty tower of flesh and began to suck on it, rubbing her tongue over its peak. 7538Y began to tremble and shake. Inga smiled as she sucked and rubbed, bringing her lovely slave closer and closer to serving breakfast. Just as he was about to explode, Inga stopped. She withdrew her mouth, and watched as the giant tower of erect flesh trembled and shook, desperately searching for the warm caress it had felt only moments ago. 7538Y managed his first sound since his arrival. A small moan escaped from his head. Staying silent to heighten the suspense, Inga waited until the tower began to collapse. Just when it was all the way down, she grabbed it, wrapped her tongue around it, and began rubbing again. The tower sprang back to life, filling her mouth with delicious, meaty flesh. She sucked and stroked, savoring her slave’s flavor. Ohh, it was so delicious to eat him… 7538Y was starting to buckle in his restraints, trying to move. The bag and the belts held him in place easily, keeping his movements in check, allowing Inga to continue her work. Finally, she could hold it back no longer. She went hard, and she went fast, rubbing and sucking as hard as she could. 7538Y responded by exploding, his body quaking and buckling uncontrollably as he gave his master the tastiest, most juicy breakfast she could ever recall having. “Oh my!” She gasped as she swallowed. “You’re good!” With that, she collapsed on the bed, covering her slave with her body. Feeling deeply relaxed, so very relaxed, she wound her arms and her legs around her slave’s still wrapped body, giving him a full body embrace. She squeezed him tightly, giving him the most passionate hug she could manage. “I think.” Inga sighed. “That this is going to be a nice relationship.” Seemingly in agreement, 7538Y wiggled slightly under his master’s hug. The next two days were a blur for Inga. She made the decision early on to spread out the pleasure of unwrapping her slave. So she slowly removed his restraints, little by little. She unwound the bandages from his legs, then his thighs and waist, then his chest. On the third day of 7538Y’s stay, Inga removed the last of the bandages, and fully uncovered her slave’s body. He was still bound in his body bag and belts, but now his form was revealed in the shiny and sexy bag he was locked in. “Oh sugar booger,” Inga cooed. “You look so sexy in that! I could let you out… but what’s the fun in that?” 7538Y wiggled slightly, whether from pleasure or not, Inga couldn’t tell. “Tell you what.” Inga said. “Why don’t I take you outside, and show you your new home? Would you like that?” 7538Y wiggled again. This time, it was definitely in pleasure. The sun was shining as Inga moved her slave out of her house and onto the patio. She had to get this just right, to make a great first impression. Pull this off, and her slave would never want to leave this wonderful place. It was a slight struggle to move 7538Y onto the swinging bench, but seeing his bluish form spread out on the bench made him look oh so helpless, so innocent and dependent on her for his care. She sat down next to him, placing her arm around his shoulder. A slight push, and the bench began to sway back and forth. “Well,” she began. “You ready to see your new home? I think you’ll like it!” 7538Y tried to nod his head, but the posture collar forced him to keep his head up. Inga laughed. “Oh, is that little collar annoying? Well, I think the black, sensuous leather looks so good wrapped around your neck. Besides, it’ll be a great place to put my leash!” Though 7538Y gave the impression of wanting to see his new home, Inga decided to make him wait just a little bit. He was still sealed into his own little world. Let him stay in there a little bit longer. She squeezed his shoulders tightly, but lovingly. “Isn’t it amazing?” Inga thought to herself as the bench swayed slightly. “I’ve never seen this man’s face, I’ve never heard him speak, I’ve never felt his arms around me, yet I love him!” The two sat there on the bench for a while. One, because she wanted too. The other…well, he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Finally, Inga could wait no longer. She reached over towards her slave’s hood. Moving carefully, she began to undo the zippers over the eyes. Each “Rrriippp” was so delicious to listen to. She was opening up her slave! The two zippers were undone. Inga looked at her slave’s face closely. Underneath the hood was the blindfold that had been placed over 7538Y’s eyes. Underneath that blindfold were her slave’s eyes. It would be the first part of him she would really see. Very slowly, she reached inside the hood and moved the blindfold with her fingers. 7538Y didn’t move, keeping perfectly still. A few slips, and then it was done. The blindfold was off. And Inga looked into the eyes of her slave. They were calm, content eyes, a deep green in color. They blinked at the newfound light that flooded upon them. But they adjusted, and then focused on Inga. 7538Y could not speak, but his eyes told Inga everything she would want to know. His eyes told her that he was fine. His eyes told her that he was curious about her, and that he was very curious about his surroundings. But overall, his eyes were beautiful. “Well, hello there!” Inga said. “Welcome to your new home!” And she stepped aside, giving 7538Y his first look at his home. They were in a great valley, surrounded on all sides by snow capped mountains. There was a giant lake in the center of the valley. Forests full of trees filled the valley like grass. The two were at Inga’s two-story log cabin, far out from civilization. Up above, the sun shone down through the clouds, illuminating the mountains and valley with a soft, warm, and comforting glow. “Do you like it?” Inga asked curiously. 7538Y nodded his head as best he could, his eyes full of delight. “Then let’s take you out for a little ride!” The little ride that Inga talked about was a ride on a large floating platform that drifted lazily across the lake. The surface of the platform was covered in soft blue carpeting. Inga and 7538Y lay on the platform, letting the current take them where it willed. It was a lazy Sunday cruise. No destination in mind, no worries or cares to trouble the two. Inga was nude, lying spread eagle on the carpet. 7538Y lay still in his body bag, unable to move. They stayed like this for an hour or two, relaxing in the Swedish mountains. Time ceased to be. After working up the strength, Inga rolled onto her side and looked at her slave, her eyes drowsy. “You know 7538Y? There’s so much I don’t know about you. I don’t know where you came from, or what you used to do. I don’t know if you had a family, or if you had a goal in life.” She slowly snaked her way up to him, his eyes looking at her curiously. “And though I’ve only known you for four days, it seems like it’s been a lifetime.” She reached him and got on top of him, straddling him like he was a saddle. Inga leaned over and slowly nuzzled 7538Y affectionately on the nose. As 7538Y’s eyes closed in pleasure, Inga slowly reached down and began to take off the hood, revealing the skin beneath. 7538Y didn’t even notice as his head covering was taken off. And when it was off, Inga looked into the face of her beloved slave. It was a handsome face, still young, not past fifty. His skin, though damp and wrinkled from the bondage, was smooth and shaved. He was the embodiment of handsome (which, unknown to Inga, was the reason ISC hired him. Clients always liked handsome slaves). His ballgag was still in place. Though she could be a little cruel if she wanted too, he had worn the gag long enough. Undoing the tight straps that held it in place she took it out. 7538Y sputtered and croaked, trying to flex muscles that had been stiff and unused for days. “Are you okay?” Inga asked. Her slave stopped and looked up at her, his black hair flowing. “Why yes, thank you master.” He said in his soothing voice. He looked around. “Would you please tell me where I am?” “Your new home is Sweden !” Inga said. “Really? Oh my, that’s a nice choice. And if I may say so, you speak English very well mistress.” Inga blushed. “Aww…it’s nothing really.” 7538Y nodded, then looked down at his bound form. “Uhm…” He began. “Are you… going to let me out anytime soon? I like being mummified and all, but it would be nice to exercise. But of course, it’s your decision mistress. I’ll stay in here if you want me to.” Inga smiled and gently began to stroke his wonderfully smooth second skin. “Oh don’t worry slave.” She cooed. “You’ll be out soon. But you’ll have to be in cuffs!” “I don’t mind.” 7538Y said. “But out of curiosity… well, I never expected my mistress to be…uhm…” 7538Y’s mistress laughed. “Yes, I know. It’s not everyday that your master is sixty years old.” 7538Y smiled. “But you still look so beautiful.” Inga leaned in close and gave 7538Y a soft kiss. Surprised, 7538Y kissed her back. “What’s your name?” Inga asked quietly. “My former name does not matter, the same with who I was, and where I came from.” 7538Y said. Inga kissed him again, rubbing his bound body with hers. “What is important…” 7538Y said gently between two kisses. “…Is that I’m with you now mistress. I’m yours for life.” The mountain began to rise again. “Oh slave.” Inga cooed as she kissed and hugged him. “I love you.” She rubbed his smooth skin over and over. “I love you!” 7538Y kissed his master, deep and passionately. He had loved it these past days. Being loved, being held, being kissed. He loved his master. She had treated him with kindness and love, and he desired to return the favor hundredfold. “And I love you my mistress!” He said. The mountain was at its peak. Barely taking her arms off 7538Y, Inga undid the zipper and let the mountain come out. The valley and the mountains echoed with shrieks of sheer, unmatched pleasure, from both mistress and slave. The plateau was reached, and the downhill slope began. Slave and master exchanged no words. They were asleep. 7538Y in his mistress’s arms, master holding her beloved slave tightly to her. As the sun began to set, the floating platform drifted lazily across the lake, Mistress and slave beginning a new life together of sex, play, and most important, love. Deep in his dreams, 7538Y dreamed of walking up to his employers to thank them for a wonderful retirement. The smiled and said it was no problem. 7538Y smiled and thanked them, just before he was wrapped up and packaged, ready to be shipped off again. The platform continued to drift, carrying it’s passengers into a new realm of love and compassion. 7538Y awoke for a moment. He looked around, trying to remember where he was. Then he found his mistress holding him with her body. Ah yes… As he drifted off again into dreams, 7538Y had one last thought. “What a great retirement…”

Special thanks to the members of the Gromet’s plaza forum, who helped edit this story. ** Oh, hello there! Who am I you ask? Oh, no one in particular. My name’s not important, considering where I am right now. Where am I you might ask? Well, that’s simple. I’m currently ten feet underground, lying inside a casket. Oh, and I should also mention that i’m mummified from head to toe in four layers of white bandages. What am I doing down here? Oh my, what a story. Best to go back to the beginning… For the past five years of my life, I’ve… I’m sorry, was, a slave to the most wonderful man i’ve ever met. I was homeless at the time and down on my luck. ...

Working for a mafia godfather was not all fun and glamour. Forget what you see in the movies or read in the books. It’s not an easy job. In fact, it’s a dangerous job. Just ask Julia. If she could talk, she would tell you that it’s not a job any person should take. Too bad she hadn’t thought of that before she got in. It had been simple. Immigrate to America after running from the cops in Italy. She should have been caught at Ellis Island , but thanks to her mafia connections, she had been able to convince the officials to look the other way. ...

Three strikes alternate ending (not the official ending) Thanks to Tiedash for inspiring this alternate ending The ship was waiting at the pier, the large crate sat on the docks, with the words “Fine china” stenciled onto its side. This was the target crate that Julia needed to get. Luckily, there were no guards at the pier at this time of night. It was just her, the truck, and the trolley. ...

This is how it felt to be Ian. ** You were in the prime of life, as fit and trim as you were ever going to be. All of life was open to you, its riches and abundance yours for the taking. Yet life was empty. Yes, you had a college degree. You had a nice apartment in the suburbs, a steady job, and a nice little world all to yourself. Yet… you felt empty. What was the point of life and its riches if you had nobody to share it with? Then, in your mid-twenties, you were searching for a mate, a wife, a friend, to share it all with. But nobody came. Nobody was Mrs. Right. Night after night, you went to clubs, bars, restaurants, in hopes of finding the right person for you. But nobody ever came. Nobody came your way. “Why can’t I find anyone?” You wondered. “Why will nobody come forward, accept my offer of a drink, and say I’m cute?” Dejected, you always went back to your apartment, crushed and with your hope gone just a little bit more. A year went by, and still nobody came. Your books, your games, and your movies were your only companions at home. But they were poor substitutes for the warm flesh of a living person. Then… she came. It was quite unexpected. You were in the local steak house, slowly sipping a glass of root beer. A woman walked up and asked if she could sit next to you. Without looking up, you said yes. Something, that little feeling in your chest, told you to look at her. And you did. She was perfect. She was not a professional model, nor was her body one that other women were envious of. Yet… she was perfect, just as she was. It was as if the two of you were linked to each other. You could tell that she sensed it too. When she looked at you, looked into your eyes, she was looking into your very soul. You offered her a sip of your root beer. She accepted. And both of you smiled. The next six months were a blur that passed you by in a wave of peace and happiness. This woman had a wonderful power. When she was near you, you felt up, oh so up and so happy. She could wash away your fears, your terrors, your worries, simply by standing next to you. And she told you how you did the same to her. How you were a source of magic and wonder to her, how your presence was a soothing balm to her soul. You were convinced that the two of you were soul mates. It was as if when you met, you said “Oh, there you are. Where have you been?” There were occasional problems of course. There were some arguments, some disagreements. But both of you stuck it out. You hung in there, refusing to give up. And the two of you overcame every problem that came your way. Finally, a year after the two of you met, you decided to be married. The families on both sides were overjoyed at the idea. “You two are so right for each other!” They said. Both of you smiled. You didn’t need to be told that. The wedding was a small, simple affair. No need for a huge guest list, no need for a gigantic church. For the fun of it, both of you and the families drove out to Vegas and were married by an Elvis impersonator. The two of you shared a kiss upon the words “You may now kiss the bride.” Though the families and guests stood and clapped, and though the band of Elvis impersonators burst into song, both of you didn’t hear it. You were bound together in that timeless, magical moment, for when your lips met, everything was absolutely perfect, without flaw, without imperfection. For one brief moment, the two of you were one. For the honeymoon, the two of you rented a beach house near the ocean. Next to the endless blue, the green palm trees and the warm sun, the two of you made love and passion as never before. It was here that you made a surprising discovery about your love. She was a controller. In her normal, non sexual personality she loved you enough to let you live how you want. But when she was aroused, she loved controlling you, binding you and taking care of you. You spent two days bound as a mummy while she tended to your every need, while she held and stroked you. Both of you were in heaven. Pure, loving, heaven. A month later, your fortunes hit a new high. Your loved one somehow managed to win the lottery. You were now rich. You had money beyond your wildest dreams. You could get anything you want. The two of you bought a nice, comfortable home in the suburbs. You also bought lots of sex toys, ranging from cuffs and manacles, to straightjackets and body bags. But your wife bought one item that she refused to let you see. She told you, with a devilish grin, that it was being saved for a special occasion. Though you were incredibly turned on at the statement, she still refused to let you see it. “Patience my love.” She said. “You will see it soon enough.” She made her move two years later. By that time, the two of you had everything your hearts desired. You had a house, bondage toys, and enough money to last for life. It was a calm, ordinary day when she came to you. She said she wanted to talk about an idea she had, one that would serve both of you. Putting down your book, you listened to her proposal. She had gotten the idea in her head, and she couldn’t get rid of it. You talked quietly and supportively, encouraging her to come out with what she wanted. Finally, she told you. She wanted you to become her slave. She told you how much she fantasized about keeping you restrained, how she would have to take care of you, tend to your every need, and how she would hold and caress you, how she would take care of you for the rest of your life. To her delight, you said that you loved the idea. The plans were made. Though you would be allowed to move while restrained, you would spend much of your time in a special device that your wife had purchased. But still, she refused to let you see it, keeping it in a locked box. The plans went on. You would mostly stay in the house, always kept restrained by at least a pair of hand and ankle cuffs. Whenever your wife felt like it, you would be cocooned like a mummy. The two of you agreed on the plan for your new lives. How she would be the loving and caring master, and how you would be the kind and loving slave. Of course, it was not permanent. If you wanted, either of you could stop at any time, and resume your lives. The day soon arrived, when your freedom would be gone. When you would essentially be confined to house arrest for life. There were just a few things you needed to get from your old apartment. Your wife went with you, and she helped you move the items out of the dwelling and into the car. When the last box was put in the trunk, and when everything was gone, you sighed, looking your old house over for the last time. There was the clink of metal behind your back. You turned and saw your wife holding two items in her hands. The sight of them sent shivers of excitement down your spine. She was smiling, waiting patiently for your approval. You smiled and put your wrists forward, offering them, and your freedom, to her. She went forward and gently placed the rigid cuffs onto your wrists. The silver cuffs were lined with a thin layer of leather, which felt so good as your wife worked the device into position. The cuffs felt so right, so good, as you allowed your wife to lock them down, to take away your freedom, possibly forever. When the lock was in place, and when the key was withdrawn, you looked at the restraint locked around your wrists. It was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. It kept your wrists in place, so that you could not move them out of its grip. While you pondered your restraint, your wife bent down and pulled out the leg manacles. The silver cuffs were old fashioned, with a large cuff, rather then the thin kind found in modern handcuffs. She placed the cuffs around your ankles, over your white socks. The cuffs were closed, the clasp put into place, and the keys were placed in and turned. When she stood up again, your ankles were now locked into the old fashioned restraints. And it felt so good, so right, so perfect. These restraints, these devices, were your friends. They cared for you, kept you safe by taking away your freedom of movement. You were happy to have them safely on you, and they were happy to be locked to you. Your wife, your mistress, smiled. “Come on honey slave.” She said soothingly. “Let’s take you home.” Like the good slave you were, you followed her obediently, shuffling along as fast as your friendly ankle cuffs would allow. It was night outside, so you didn’t worry about anyone seeing you. You followed your mistress to the car, where she opened the door and assisted you inside. You let her put the seat belt around you, and you watched as she started the car and drove away. And so you left your old life, and began your new one. You arrived at the house. By now you were more turned on then you ever had been in your life. You wanted nothing more then to grab your mistress and make hard and fast love to her. When she saw your face, she smiled as she realized your desires. “There will be time for that later.” She said. “Now we’ve got to get you inside where you can be tussled up.” Your excitement grew. After helping you out of the car, your mistress gently lead you to the house. You walked as fast as you could, though your ankle cuffs gently scolded you for being in a hurry. Inside the house, your wife walked you over to the living room, where she sat you down in a chair. “Wait here my love.” She said. “I’ll be back with your new outfit.” Grinning madly, you nodded your head eagerly. As she went upstairs, your mind raced. What device did she have for you? How long would you be kept in it? Finally, she entered the room carrying the package in her arms. Your eyes were bulging as she opened it, and pulled out its contents. It was a large white suit, with long sleeves and long legs. It was built out of heavy cotton, and had belts and straps sewn into the suit itself. There were mitts for the hands, and built in socks. A person zipped into the suit would only have his or her head showing. “This is your new outfit my darling.” She said. “You’ll be wearing this for the rest of your life from now on. It’s a special exo-suit that allows me to restrain you in almost any way I can think of. Now, let’s get it on you.” Eager to please her, you stood up immediately. She smiled as she came over and unlocked your cuffs, allowing them to drop to the floor. You whimpered slightly at having your friends come off you. You felt so naked and vulnerable. “Not to worry my love.” Your master said. “You will be safe again soon.” She picked out a white spandex bodysuit. “Put this on.” She said. “It will be your underlayer.” You put it on immediately, relishing in the feel of the spandex all over. After pulling the zipper up, you stand ready for your next assignment. She held up the suit, and undid the zipper in the back. Holding it up, she motioned for you to walk up and to enter it. Excited beyond words, you walked forwards towards this wonderful device that promised safety and security. You entered it slowly, putting your arms into the sleeves, and then stepping into the legs. It was a surprising fit. The suit fit like a glove. While you stood in the suit, relishing in its feel, your wife walked behind you and pulled the zipper up. When it was fully fastened, she took a small zip tie and locked the zipper shut, ensuring that you couldn’t get out even if you wanted to. You shivered again, realizing that you were sealed into this suit. “How do you feel slave?” She asked you. “Wonderful mistress.” You said in a doped up voice. “So wonderful.” The suit fit like a glove, hugging you all over. It was thick and firm, warm and snug. You felt so safe, so secure in it. Your wife made the next move. She placed your arms by your sides and began to thread the straps around them, around your body. Surprised, you nonetheless allowed your wife to continue strapping you up. The built-in straps were applied all over your body, from the neck to the ankles. When your mistress was finished, you were completely immobilized from head to toe. Your arms were strapped to your side, your legs bound together. You wiggled playfully, testing out how it felt. The feeling of being bound was wonderful. You felt so secure, so safe. You were protected. Nothing could reach you or harm you. This suit was your protector. Smiling, your wife went up and gave you a hug, squeezing you to her. You so desperately wanted to squeeze her back, but the friendly suit politely told you that you were not going to do that. The hug of the straps confirmed its message. “You look so beautiful.” She told you. “So white and beautiful.” She leaned in close and whispered into your ear, “But I have one more thing to add.” You gave an involuntary giggle of excitement. Gently laying you down on the ground, she went to the box and pulled out one more item. It was a bodybag, built of heavy duty white cotton. It too, had straps built in, so that when a person was locked inside, he or she would be further restrained and unable to escape. Your wife gently worked your bound body into the bag, gently and tenderly closing the zipper and tightening the lacing. You closed your eyes and drifted in ecstasy as the straps were applied, each strap saying “hello”, each strap greeting you with a hug. When the buckles on the straps were done, and when the thick collar was finished, your wife and master gave a sigh of satisfaction. She held up a small mirror so that you could know what you looked like. You looked so wonderful. You were sealed into a bag, held in place by straps. Your head was the only part of your body showing, the rest of it locked and sealed away under the heavy cotton. With your body now fully immobilized, your wife managed to lift you up and carry you upstairs to the bed. There she lay you on its soft surface. You relaxed and allowed your wife to put a soft and supportive pillow beneath your head, and several pillows around your body, creating a nest for the two of you. She went downstairs and locked the house for the night. You ached for her return. Though you felt safe and protected, you longed for your master to be with you. She came back, and quickly got into the small next. Taking the comforter, she wrapped herself in blankets. She snuggled next to you, taking you into her arms and hugging you to her. “You are so beautiful.” She whispered. “So precious to me.” She kissed you, giving you her love, her care and affection for you. “And I love you mistress.” You whispered back. You wiggled in sheer ecstasy inside your cocoon. The lights were turned out, and your wife held you close as she slowly drifted off to sleep. You closed your eyes and did your best to snuggle closer to her. As sleep came to you, you gave a sigh of pure relaxation and peacefulness. “This is going to be a wonderful life.” You thought. *** This is how it feels to be Ian. *** An average day for you begins with wakefulness. You open your eyes and look around. You are bound in the suit, and in the bag, as you have been for the past two years. You yawn and wait. Mistress will come along and release you soon. She appears a few minutes later. She greets you and releases you from your body bag. She rolls it off of you and undoes the straps holding your arms and to your side, allowing you to move in your exo-suit. “Well honey bum.” She says. “Today I want you to vacuum downstairs and fold the clothes from the laundry.” “Yes mistress.” You say. “I will do what you want.” “Good! But before I go, I have to retrain your arms.” You giggle with excitement. “Yes master! Please restrain me!” You eagerly hold out your arms. The beloved manacles are clasped to your cotton covered wrists. You squeal in delight as the locks are tightened and fastened, locking them in place. The process is repeated for your ankles. It feels so good, this blessed tightness. There have been blessedly few moments where you are without restraints. You are released for family events, and the occasional vacation, but thankfully you spend the rest of the time bound. One of the best times is when you are cuffed, spread-eagle, to the bed while your restrictive clothing is washed. You love those moments. Your wife loves to come in and “have fun” with you while you are helpless to stop her. You sigh, fondly remembering the last time that happened. “Slave!” Your master says cheerfully. “Remember, you have chores to do!” “Oh yes mistress. Sorry!” Your wife smiles. “That’s okay.” She leans over and gives you a big kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back this afternoon after work. You have a good day now.” You kiss her back. “Sure thing honeybun.” Smiling, she walks out of the door and off to work. You sigh happily, allowing yourself a brief moment to enjoy the tightness of the cuffs that you wear. Then duty calls. Your mistress has given you a task, and you need to complete it. Luxuriating in the warmth of the suit, the tightness of your cuffs, and the wonderful life you live, you walk off to the vacuum. This is how it feels to be Ian. Forever.

This is how it felt to be Ian. ** You were in the prime of life, as fit and trim as you were ever going to be. All of life was open to you, its riches and abundance yours for the taking. Yet life was empty. Yes, you had a college degree. You had a nice apartment in the suburbs, a steady job, and a nice little world all to yourself. Yet…you felt empty. What was the point of life and its riches if you had nobody to share it with? Then, in your mid-twenties, you were searching for a mate, a wife, a friend, to share it all with. But nobody came. Nobody was Mrs. Right. Night after night, you went to clubs, bars, restaurants, in hopes of finding the right person for you. But nobody ever came. Nobody came your way. “Why can’t I find anyone?” You wondered. “Why will nobody come forward, accept my offer of a drink, and say I’m cute?” Dejected, you always went back to your apartment, crushed and with your hope gone just a little bit more. A year went by, and still nobody came. Your books, your games, and your movies were your only companions at home. But they were poor substitutes for the warm flesh of a living person. Then…she came. It was quite unexpected. You were in the local steak house, slowly sipping a glass of root beer. A woman walked up and asked if she could sit next to you. Without looking up, you said yes. Something, that little feeling in your chest, told you to look at her. And you did. She was perfect. She was not a professional model, nor was her body one that other women were envious of. Yet…she was perfect, just as she was. It was as if the two of you were linked to each other. You could tell that she sensed it too. When she looked at you, looked into your eyes, she was looking into your very soul. You offered her a sip of your root beer. She accepted. And both of you smiled. The next six months were a blur that passed you by in a wave of peace and happiness. This woman had a wonderful power. When she was near you, you felt up, oh so up and so happy. She could wash away your fears, your terrors, your worries, simply by standing next to you. And she told you how you did the same to her. How you were a source of magic and wonder to her, how your presence was a soothing balm to her soul. You were convinced that the two of you were soul mates. It was as if when you met, you said “Oh, there you are. Where have you been?” There were occasional problems of course. There were some arguments, some disagreements. But both of you stuck it out. You hung in there, refusing to give up. And the two of you overcame every problem that came your way. ...

(story continues from Mummified and Eaten: Orca Snack) *The follow up Orca snack (which should be read before this one).*Thanks to Tiedash for proofreading the story, and thanks to Gromet for suggesting the latex bags. The water was dark, concealing the orca who moved silently within. Its senses were on high alert. There was food out here somewhere. With her highly developed senses, the orca would find its meal. There. Tilting and looking upwards, the killer whale spotted its prey. It was above the water, about ten feet above the liquid surface. This would be tricky. Though it had a good lock on the prey, the orca would need to time this just right. A single mess-up and the creature would be hungry for another day. With a powerful stroke from its tail, the orca went down in the water. Turning, it spun until it was facing its prey. It was one of those humans. It was dangling face down towards the water, held upside down by a piece of rope tied around the ankles. What was very odd was that over its dark and slick second skin, it was wrapped head to toe in silver material. No matter. All that mattered was getting to it. With powerful strokes, the orca began to move through the water. Slowly at first. Then faster. And faster. Soon the orca was going so fast that the water around it shimmered with energy. With a final push, the orca shot out of the water. Its mouth opened impossibly wide, exposing a dark maw filled with teeth. The human dangling above the water never had a chance. The orca was going so fast that she didn’t even slow down as her mouth engulfed the human, her momentum shooting her up and up, her mouth taking in the delicious meal. Finally, the orca reached the peak of its flight upwards. The human’s ankles were inside her mouth. With a quick bite, the rope snapped. With the prey now held inside its mouth, the orca fell back into the water with an enormous splash. Satisfied, the creature swallowed this morsel whole and alive, taking it deep inside her belly, feeling it slide through her throat. She swam down and paused, feeling its still living meal enter the stomach. At that moment, a sound came to her ears. It was the sound of clapping. “There you go ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer said. “Another performance of the woman eating orca! This marks the three hundredth time Nia has been swallowed. Let’s give her, and Jude, a big round of applause!” Upon hearing the thunderous sound of applause, Jude quickly went into her well-practiced routine. She shot up from the bottom of her tank and easily slid onto the stage, her mouth open and her tail curled to the sky. The humans were going wild. Apparently, they loved what she did, which was fine with her. These humans were so easy to please. When they were happy, they were very nice to her. And to top it off, she got free food, and plenty of companionship. So it was a mutual relationship all around, though Jude suspected that she got the better end of the deal. Oh wait, there was the little hand movement. They wanted her to cough up her human friend. Moving her stomach and neck muscles, the giant orca felt around and took hold of her human friend. Getting a secure grip on her, Jude pulled her back out of the stomach and up towards the mouth. Breathing slowly, but steadily, Jude pushed her human friend out of her mouth, pushing her out and out and out until she plopped onto the water covered stage. She lay still, still breathing, but very tired. Maybe a gentle nudge would get her to move. Jude slid forward and gently bumped her human friend. She rolled slightly, moaned a little. Then the other humans were there, tearing away the silver stuff that was wrapped around her body. When she was freed, the human Nia slowly got to her feet. That was good. A sign that she was okay. There was more thunderous applause from the audience. Nia turned and waved weakly, her fatigue clearly showing. This concerned Jude. Her human friend was weak and needed rest. And she still had one more swallowing to go through today. Maybe rubbing her would make her feel better. Jude began to squeak, catching Nia’s attention. She smiled and slowly walked over to her large friend. Placing her hand on Jude’s huge mouth, she slowly stroked the rubbery skin. Jude’s eyes closed slightly as the pleasure of touch began to come over her. For being such weak and frail creatures, humans were good and showing affection through touch and care. Jude’s relaxed body gave a deep sigh as she sank another inch or so onto the stage, luxuriating in her caretakers rubbing. The rubbing continued as the audience slowly filed out. To both orca and human, it was a special, tender moment, as it always was. “You haven’t known satisfaction.” Nia mused. “Until you’ve heard an orca purr.” Kneeling down, Nia wrapped her arms around Jude’s mouth and squeezed tightly, giving the orca the biggest and tightest hug she could manage. Jude appreciated the effort. It always touched the orca when her caretaker did this. And it would be a pleasure giving her a fully body hug when she was swallowed later. This trust and affection was crucial to the two. Without it, neither would have even considered doing this show. When the hug was over, Nia sat down next to her orca. “You know.” She said, stroking the area near Jude’s eye. “You were quite good this time. Your timing on the jump and the bite was perfect.” “And you were very good at keeping still.” Jude replied. “It takes a lot of courage to do that.” Nia laughed. At times, she was certain that she could tell what Jude was thinking, just by looking at her eyes. They were so expressive, those eyes. So full of intelligence and compassion. “Well, I’m sure we’ll get another chance to see how good both of us are at this evening’s show.” “Yes, I’m sure we will.” Nia chuckled. “Here, why don’t I get you some food that you can actually eat. Does tuna sound good?” “Oh yes, please! I love that stuff!” Laughing, Nia went over and grabbed the bucket of tuna at the edge of the stage. Unknown to both orca and human, they were being watched very closely. The binoculars peeked through the bushes, enabling the user to focus his eyes on trainer Nia. “Ah ha…” Professor Jarlson said. “Yes, very good.” He adjusted the focus lens, and homed in on his target. That trainer had such a cute bottom. Covered in that skin tight, soaking wet, wetsuit. So round, so curved, so… “Oz!” “Yes dear?” Oz spun and looked at his research assistant (and fiancée) Mary. “Tell me again, why are we coming here?” Oz smiled. “Honey, I’m convinced that trainer Nia has somehow managed to communicate with her orca! Could you imagine what that means if it’s true? That we could be on a breakthrough in human and animal communication!” Mary nodded, but went on. “Well, why couldn’t you do your studies back home in Wales ?” “Because they don’t have enough resources, and I…Oh, look!” Oz Jarlson eagerly peered through his binoculars. “There, you see! The trainer is talking to the orca near one of the eyes! I knew it!” Mary shook her head. “Oz,” She joked. “Sometimes I worry about you.” Oz returned the smile. “We’re going in.” He said. “Tonight! We’re going to talk to the orca!” The smile left Mary’s face. “We’re doing what now?” ** As Jude swallowed her food, Nia went back into the small prep room off stage. A quick shower came, removing the gunk and stomach juices. Nia allowed herself a moment to just sit down and relax, letting the warm water drip and roll off her wetsuit. Relaxing in its warm embrace, she closed her eyes. Oh, this felt sooo gggoooddd…. She slowly lay down on the shower floor, peppered with small droplets of water that came from the show above her. Fatigue, weariness and the warmth of her slick and wet suit all dragged Nia into a gentle sleep. ** “Nia! Nia, wake up sillyhead!” Nia’s eyes opened. “Wh…what?” “Come on, you’ll miss the last show of the day!” Nia closed her eyes and groaned. “There’s one last show to do?” “I’m afraid so. But after that you can sleep. How’s that sound?” Sighing, Nia slowly stood up. “That sounds wonderful Liz.” Jude was already going through her tricks and stunts as Nia walked out on stage. “And here she comes ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer said, well practiced at using the phrase. “Our very own Nia!” Nia looked and waved. She chuckled as she recognized several people in the audience. Less then two months after this whole stunt had started, and she already had her own fan club. As the tape began to wind it’s way up and around her wetsuited body, Nia realized that she never got tired of being wrapped up for her stunts. This latest one was very interesting. Standard full body wrap in duct tape over the suit, but being dangled upside down over the water was an interesting touch. After the wrapping was completed, Nia was carried off the stage, up a ladder and onto a platform. There, she was laid down on the platform while Liz and the other assistant tied the rope around her wrapped ankles. Nia shuddered as she felt the rope gently dig into her ankles nice and tight. There was something about having your ankles tied together and being dangled… …which was where she was a minute later, dangling upside down fifteen feet above the water, waiting for Jude to come shooting out of the water and embrace her in her warm and sticky mouth. Ahh, there she was, at the bottom of the tank, getting ready to accelerate to maximum speed. She could rest for a few moments before the jump. She went completely limp, letting her bound and wrapped arms relax behind her back. Going completely limp, dangling like an ornament…so very relaxing. Splash Nia opened her eyes to see a huge maw coming straight at her, the dark throat welcoming her inside. She managed a smile. “Here we go.” GULP. ** The lights at the park were always dim at night. Though there was security present, the lights were kept dim enough so that the animals could sleep in the darkness. The darkness was the perfect cover for Oz and his fiancée as they snuck their way into the park, dressed like thieves in the night. Their outfits were a little out of the ordinary. Like some silly spy movie, both were dressed in skin-tight black wetsuits. “Tell me again…” Mary asked as she snuck through the bushes. “…Why are we wearing wetsuits?” “It’s because they offer camouflage in the dark. And we might be in cold water.” “Oh really? Then why did you select my suit to be the one that has these two blue stripes on it?” Oz looked back at her, his eyes growing and a smile coming onto his face. “Maybe it’s because you look so damn hot and sexy in it.” Mary rolled her eyes. “You know,” Mary said, smiling. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re still sane.” Oz only grinned as he continued onwards. There. The orca Jude’s pen was dead ahead. And there were no guards in sight. This would be easy. It was a simple manner to sneak into the pens. Jude however, wasn’t in the pens. A quick glance at the gigantic tank also showed that Jude wasn’t in her tank. A startled Oz tried to figure out where a forty foot long, multi-ton whale could hide. Then he realized what was going on, and he groaned at his own stupidity. The orca’s pen was right next to the ocean, and there was a very large gate between the two. At the moment it was open, which meant that the killer whale was out swimming in the ocean. This feature had been installed in response to animal-rights activists who claimed that the killer whale was being kept against her will. Now she could come and go whenever she wanted to. Silently indicating to his fiancée to stay and look out for guards, Oz slowly walked forward onto the stage. He shivered with excitement. This was where it happened. This was where the trainer spoke with the orca. A chuckle emerged from the man. “So, the professors back at the university think I’m mad do they? I’ll show them!” He grinned devilishly. “I’ll show them all!” His neoprene booties splashing, he walked over to the edge of the stage and splashed his hand in the water. For several minutes, nothing happened. Then a shape appeared under the water, emerging from the gate that lead to the ocean. Like a very well oiled and used machine, the orca Jude abruptly appeared and shot out of the water, landing on the stage. Oz was taken back by the whale’s size. She was…big. Very big. Easily the biggest orca he’d ever seen, in terms of length, weight and overall size. Jude looked at the human in front of her. Hmm…she couldn’t recall seeing this one before. Maybe he was a new friend to play with. She turned her head slightly and looked him over. He didn’t look or feel threatening, mostly curious. Oz slowly walked forward, unsure how to try out his idea of if this whale could understand a human language. Best to start off with the basics. He looked at the orca directly in the eye. “Do you understand me?” No, no, too generic. He needed something more focused. “If you can understand me, raise your tail.” Amazingly, the orca did just that. “Okay.” Jude’s expression told Oz. “What do you want me to do next?” Oz responded by falling on his butt, his suit rapidly getting soaked with water. She had done what he had asked! He couldn’t believe it! He had to try more commands. “Uhm…lie on your side.” Jude tilted onto her side and stuck her right flipper up and waved it. Oz was almost ecstatic with joy. It was true! This orca could understand him! Now for the classic word that had been used in all the shows. “Open your mouth.” Jude opened her mouth to as wide as it went, exposing the dark, deep and damp cavern inside it. In awe, Oz went forward and carefully peered inside Jude’s mouth. He could see the folds of skin that covered the opening of the throat, but the throat itself was very large. Wide enough to accommodate a human, as had been demonstrated in the show. Oz couldn’t resist. He stuck his arms in, and began to gently scratch Jude’s tongue. Jude’s eyes closed slightly, indicating pleasure. “Mary!” Oz said quietly. “Come here! You’ve got to see this!” No reply. “Mary? Come on, you’ll love this!” No reply. “Mary, what’s wrong?” Before Oz could turn, his hands were grabbed. Giving a little shriek, Oz looked inside Jude’s mouth. Two hands were holding his, with a grip stronger then he imagined. “What the…” With a small grunt, Nia pulled herself forward out of Jude’s throat, just enough so that her arms and head were sticking out. She yawned. “Well, hello there. What do you think you’re doing here in the park after hours?” “Don’t worry Nia.” A female voice said behind Oz. “We’ll take care of it. You there, hands in the air!” Nia released Oz’s arms. Oz briefly considered running for it, but he heard the sound of a gun chamber being slid into place. Groaning, Oz raised his arms above his head. “Good. Now don’t make any sudden movements. You’re under arrest for trespassing.” A hand brought down Oz’s right arm and put it behind his back. Oz felt the click and snap as a handcuff was locked around his wrist. The process was repeated as his left arm was bought behind his back, and locked in the handcuff too. His unseen captor forced him to kneel on the stage, where his ankles were locked in a pair of cuffs as well. ** Ten minutes later, Oz and his fiancée (who was also locked in cuffs) were kneeling on the stage in front of their captors. Nia had pulled herself out of Jude’s throat and now sat next to the orca, stroking her affectionately. “Pardon me for asking.” Oz said. “But what on earth were you doing inside that orca?” Nia smiled. “Sometimes I like to take naps inside of Jude. She doesn’t mind carrying me around while I sleep. It’s almost womb like.” “But the problem now,” Liz said. “Is what to do with these two. What were you doing here after hours?” Oz gulped. “Well, I…I was curious to see if that orca is as intelligent as she appears to be. I’m fascinated by killer whale intelligence, and your orca seemed to be a prime candidate.” Liz nodded slightly. “And?” Oz continued. “And it appears that she is intelligent. While my own commands were normal commands that are taught by you, I was unable to go into more specific details.” Liz nodded. “Well, too bad you won’t get a chance to try out any more experiments for a while. If I recall correctly, trespassing in this state is punishable by at minimum, a year in prison. So I’m sure both of you will have plenty of time to contemplate orca intelligence while sitting in your cells.” Mary cried quietly, her arms moving to wipe away the tears, but stopped by the unforgiving grip of the handcuffs. “Look,” Oz said. “I’m sure we can work something out here. We were just curious!” “You could have come and asked about meeting Jude on a one on one basis.” “In retrospect, yes. But my curiosity and impatience got the better of me.” Nia smiled. “Well, at least you’re honest.” Liz put away the gun. “Well, I suppose we’d better call the police.” Mary cried more and more, and even Oz began to cry quietly. It was a pitiful sight. “You know.” Jude said as she looked at Nia. “They didn’t do any harm. They were just curious.” Nia thought. Just as Liz was about to dial the police on the phone, she stopped her. “Wait.” She said. “I think I have an idea on how we can settle this.” Oz and Mary looked at her with a very faint glimmer of hope. “If they really want to make up for this, I know how they can. We’ve got a new idea to make it easier for Jude to swallow humans, and these two can be the first testers.” Oz and Mary frantically nodded their heads. “Yes!” Mary said. “Please, we’ll do anything you want. Anything! Just don’t call the police on us!” Nia nodded. “All right.” She got up and walked over to a locker on the far edge of the stage, opened it, and pulled out some supplies. The standard issue duct tape was there, but there were two new items. They were latex body bags. Form fitting, constructed completely of skin tight, black shiny latex. “The idea is that I’m wrapped up in tape as normal.” Nia said. “And then I get zipped up into this body bag. Very smooth, and it makes it easier for Jude to swallow me.” Oz and Mary stared. “You can’t be serious!” Oz gasped. “Well, it’s either this, or the police.” Nia said. Realizing that they had no real choice, Mary and Oz nodded their heads. “All right then.” Nia said. “Let’s get you out of those cuffs and get you wrapped up. But first…” Liz quickly took out a camera and snapped a picture of the cuffed couple. “A little insurance police to make sure you don’t run away.” Liz took out the keys to the cuffs and undid them. Oz and Mary immediately rubbed their hands together, grateful to be free of those horrible cuffs, which still looked threatening even when open. “Now then,” Nia said, holding up the tape. “Who’s first?” Mary and Oz looked at each other. “Uhh…” “How about we wrap them both at the same time?” Liz suggested. “Na.” Nia said. “Let’s wrap the guy first. He should look rather cute in the bag.” What she didn’t say is that she would enjoy watching the fear on the woman’s face, when she realized that what would happen to the guy was going to happen to her. “Okay.” Liz said. “But just to be on the safe side…” She turned to Mary and held up one of the handcuffs. Mary shook her head and backed away. “Oh no.” She said. “No, not those. I won’t run away, I promise!” Liz smiled. “I know. But this is just to be on the safe side. Besides, you look rather sexy all dressed up and handcuffed.” Mary whimpered, but otherwise did not resist as she was taken to a flagpole, and had her hands cuffed behind her back, around the pole. “There we go.” Liz said as she tightened the cuffs with a loud CLICK. “That’ll keep you secured until we’re ready for you.” Liz struggled with her steel bindings, but found that they were locked very securely. Liz walked away, leaving Mary cuffed to the pole. Quietly disappearing, she slid down and sat in the water, feeling her suit getting wet with water. “What a lousy day this has been.” She thought. Oz was standing still on the stage as the three female trainers slowly wound the thick duct tape around his body. So far only his ankles and knees were wrapped, but at the rate the trainers were going, he’d be tussled up in less then ten minutes. “This is so strange.” Nia said as she wound some tape above Oz’s knees. “What is?” Liz asked. “That I’m not the person being wrapped up in tape.” The trainers laughed. Oz gave a little chuckle. “So, do you like this?” Nia asked curiously. Oz gave a shrug. “I never imagined when I woke up this morning that I’d be in a wetsuit, getting wrapped up in duct tape in preparation of being swallowed by a creature I’ve been studying for years.” “Yea.” Liz said. “I bet you were only expecting to watch the orcas.” “Yes. That was the point…Ow! Do you have to wind it so tight?” “Yep.” Nia said as she reached his groin. “You have to be very compressed and snug so Jude can swallow you easily.” Oz gave a small groan. “How very reassuring.” “Oh don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt. Jude is very gentle when she swallows people.” “How many people has she swallowed?” “Only me, about a few hundred times.” Another gulp. At that point, the trainers reached his sides. “All right buster.” Liz said. “You need to put your arms at your sides.” “And if I don’t?” Liz gave a sly grin. “Then Jude’s teeth may do a little scraping.” Frowning and muttering, Oz complied, placing his arms at his sides. He didn’t struggle as the tape was wound around his torso and his arms, pinning both in place. From her place at the pole, Mary looked on with both dread and fascination at what was happening to her fiancée. But her attention was torn between the sight of her fiancée being wrapped up, and the tightness of the handcuffs around her wrists. Even when locked around the neoprene, they were still very tight. “Excuse me.” Mary said. “But could one of you come loosen my cuffs a little? They hurt.” “No.” Liz said. “Besides, you’ll be in them for only a few more minutes.” “But they’re tight!” “If you think those are tight, imagine being wrapped up, locked up, and sealed up inside an orca’s stomach.” Mary was quiet. Suddenly her cuffs didn’t seem so tight anymore. To Oz, his bindings were very tight. His captors were reaching his shoulders, meaning that they were going to be finished soon. If he had wanted to escape, then that chance was long past. His legs were bound together, his arms were bound to his side, and the tape wrapped around him was so tight that breathing was becoming difficult. “There we go.” Nia said as she pressed the last bit of tape down. “All wrapped up and snug. How do you feel?” Oz tried to move, could only manage a hop. His arms were completely unmovable. “Perfect!” Nia said. “Now, on to the new gear. Your nice, cozy bag!” “Great.” Oz said, his voice flat. As Nia picked up the bag, she looked over at Jude, who was still lying on the stage. She had been watching everything with great interest. “So Jude,” Nia said. “You ready to swallow someone new?” “Yes, though not in the way that you are accustomed to.” Nia was a bit confused. What did that mean? Oh well, she’d find out in a few minutes. “All right ladies.” Nia said. “Lie him down on the stage.” Oz didn’t, couldn’t resist as his captors gently lay him down on the ground, so that he was staring up at the night sky. “All right.” Nia said as she took hold of Oz’s neoprene covered feet. “Let’s get you tucked in.” Taking the latex bag, she guided Oz’s feet into the bag. To her delight, it was a perfect fit around his feet. “Ohh, this is going to be good.” She thought. “So tight and nice within this shiny, shiny bag.” “Oh, this isn’t going to be good.” Oz thought. “This is going to be too tight and too hot. Wait a minute. I’m wrapped up and being zipped into a body bag. Hmm…this might not be so bad after all.” More and more of the bag was placed up and around Oz’s bound body. The latex kissed him as it was zipped up, inch by inch. Oz managed to lift his head to watch as his legs, his waist, his arms, and his chest were slowly contained by the latex bag. Finally, the bag was completely around him. With a final VVVRRRIPPP, the zipper was finished. The bag’s collar was tightened around Oz’s neck, and several built in belts were strapped together to compress and squeeze the bag’s occupant. “Well.” Nia said as she stood up. “That should do it. How do you feel?” Oz squirmed a little within his bag, completely unable to move. “It’s very tight.” He said matter-of-factly. “I can’t move at all, it’s quite warm, and quite snug around my body.” “Perfect!” Nia said. “Then let’s feed you to Jude!” “Uhm…” Oz said. “Do we really have to do this?” Liz picked up the telephone threateningly. Realizing that he was stuck, Oz sighed. “Very well.” Liz and Nia reached down and took hold of the belts wound around the bag. Picking up the bag and it’s occupant, they slowly walked towards Jude, who was watching this morsel with great interest. “Here we go Jude.” Nia said. “Your latest meal, very slick and shiny! Just remember that you can’t digest him.” “I don’t intend to.” Nia looked down at the bound captive. “Do you want to go headfirst, or feetfirst?” “If you must insist, I will go feet first.” “Okay.” The two trainers held Oz’s body level, pointing it right towards Jude’s mouth. “Wait a minute!” Oz said. “How are we going to breathe inside that orca?” “Oh, don’t worry about it.” Nia said. “Jude can carry enough air for you to survive. And she’ll keep breathing, and keep passing air on to you.” “How very reassuring.” Oz muttered. “Okay Jude.” Nia said. “Open up!” Jude looked at them, then did something that nobody had ever seen her do. She somehow managed to turn her entire, forty foot length body so that her human friends were looking at her side. Then, with great effort, she rolled onto her right side, so that her tummy was pointing up. “Jude?” Nia asked. “What is it?” Jude squeaked. Nia heard a loud plop, and looked towards Jude’s tail. Jude’s vaginal opening was wide open, and clear juices were pouring out of her. Temporarily forgetting about Oz, Nia and Liz put him down and walked over to Jude’s opening. It was quite large, and judging by the muscles and loose skin, the opening could expand several times larger. Curious, Nia placed her arm inside Jude’s opening, feeling the wet and moist muscles within. Jude gave a squeak, and the muscles closed in on Nia’s arm. “Whoa, there Jude.” Nia said. “What are you doing?” The muscles around Nia’s arms were pulsating, grabbing at her, and strangely, trying to pull her in. Only then did Nia realize what Jude wanted. Nia chuckled. Then she started to laugh. “What?” Oz asked in his bag. “What is it?” With some effort, Nia managed to pull her arm out of Jude’s vagina. Jude squeaked sadly. “I think Jude wants some company.” Oz nodded his head. “Yes, I think we all know that.” “Inside of her.” “Well, isn’t that what she wants from you?” “But not in her stomach.” This statement puzzled Oz. He had to think about it for several minutes. Then with a grasp of horror, he realized what Nia was talking about. “You…seriously…must be joking!” Oz stammered. “You can’t…really mean that?!” Nia smiled and nodded. “Oh yes, I do mean it. I think Jude wants you inside of her.” Liz went over to drag the helpless researcher over to the giant orca, while Nia walked over to Jude’s head. “So.” She said, looking into her giant friend’s eyes. “Do you really want him to go in through there?” “Oh yes. The last time someone went in there, it was incredible. I’ve hungered for that feeling for a long time.” “Well, now you’ll get it my rubbery friend.” “Oh good! I look forward to it. He should enjoy it.” Walking over to Liz, Nia grabbed one of the belts on the body bag, and the two dragged Oz over towards Jude’s vagina. “Look, I’m sure we can work something out!” Oz stammered, wiggling in his bag. “I mean, I’m fine with her swallowing me, but this? This is a bit much!” “Oh come on.” Nia said. “Jude said you’d enjoy it.” “You…you talked to the killer whale?” Oz stammered. “Oh yes. She’s very intelligent.” “I can’t believe this is happening…” Oz muttered. They reached Jude’s tail. Jude’s vaginal opening increased in width, ready to admit an occupant. Not wanting to keep their multi-ton friend waiting, Liz and Nia lifted Oz up and stuck him in, feet first. Almost instantly, muscles gripped Oz’s legs and with surprising strength, began to pull him in. The researcher was speechless as he watched his bag being sucked into the body of a killer whale, through its vagina no less. More and more of the bag vanished into Jude’s body. Within moments, Liz and Nia were able to let go of Oz, and let Jude handle the work of sucking him in. Judging by the sounds the giant orca was making, Jude was enjoying the process immensely. Her entire body was shaking and quivering with excitement as she pulled Oz into her body, squeaks emerging from her mouth. Within a minute, Oz had been sucked up to his shoulders, the red muscle lined opening expanding further and further to accommodate him. Jude paused, resting and gathering strength. Oz was left sticking out of her, looking absolutely bewildered. Nia walked over to Oz. “So, how’s it feel to be sucked up into your new mommy?” Oz was flabbergasted. He stuttered, trying to find the right words. There was a suck, and he was pulled in five more inches. “It’s…” Another suck. Up to the neck. “Uhm…” There was a loud schlurp and another suck, and then Oz’s head was the only part of him sticking out of Jude’s body. Oz’s eyes suddenly went wide. And he found the right words to describe the situation. “It’s damn horny.” With a final, powerful suck, Oz’s head was pulled into Jude’s vagina, and the top of his head rapidly vanished into the darkness of Jude’s tube. The hole quickly contracted and closed itself, sealing up the hole where Oz had been only a moment earlier. Jude’s midsection pulsated as she took Oz into her body. Some juice dripped out and gathered near Nia’s feet. With a loud, content sigh, Jude slowly rolled back onto her belly, and relaxed. Nia walked over to Jude’s head and sat down next to her large friend. She reached over and wrapped her arms around Jude’s snout, and squeezed tightly. “Wow.” She whispered. “That was quite a sight. How’s he doing?” “Still going in.” Nia smiled. “Well, while you’re working on him, we’ll go get his friend all set to go.” “Very well. I’ll be ready for her.” Jude watched as her human friend got up and walked over to the new female, who was tied to a tall thin post of some kind. The events of this evening had been rather odd. She had never seen humans acting towards each other that way before, locking limbs behind backs, threatening each other with small shiny things, and something called the police. Oops. Jude closed her eyes and focused, pushing the man through her tube towards her womb. He was stuck, and needed a little extra force to get going. Ahh, there he goes. This was one little talent of hers that only one other human had found out, years earlier when she was in the mid Atlantic . He was a nice man, so friendly and responsive to her desires for him. However, he hadn’t tasted too good. He had been the first, and the last human she’d eaten and digested. No more humans in her diet. Ever. Besides, she couldn’t imagine digesting any of these humans who were so nice to her. All she had to do was do some tricks, and she got free food and all the companionship she wanted. And this human, the one they called Nia…she was special. She was kind, loving, and affectionate. Everything Jude could ask for in a human. Ah. With a final push, the male human in the shiny skin was deposited inside her womb. Now for the tube… As she moved her tube into position, Jude watched as her three trainers were wrapping the new female up in the shiny material. But unlike before, this new human was not smiling or relaxed. Jude was distressed to see this one with a frightened expression on her face as her body was wrapped up very tightly in the shiny material. She looked very frightened. If there was one thing Jude regretted, it was not having the ability to make the sounds the humans made. The elegant and complex sounds that made up their communication. If she could make those sounds, then maybe she could reassure this new human that it wouldn’t hurt, that she would be safe. They were putting the shiny black skin over the new human. She obviously wasn’t enjoying it at all. She was dripping water from her eyes. Why were they doing this to her? Sometimes Jude just couldn’t understand humans, why they did some of the things they did. The new human was finished. Jude’s trainers looked her over for a few seconds, then started carrying her over. Jude acted without even needing to be told, acting off months of training and practice. Her large, cavern like mouth opened, exposing her thick tongue, teeth, and huge throat. The woman was lowered until she was level with Jude’s mouth. “Don’t worry.” Nia said. “She won’t hurt you.” “Silly Nia.” Jude thought. “I won’t hurt humans. I couldn’t imagine doing such a thing.” But still, she kept her mouth opened. As the woman was moved forward, towards the gaping mouth, she began to shake and buckle within her restrictive skin, trying to worm her way out of it. Jude looked at the female human. “Don’t worry.” She tried to convey through her eyes. “I won’t hurt you. You have nothing to fear.” The female did notice Jude’s deep, caring eyes. Could she tell what was being told to her? It didn’t look like it. Nia and the other human trainer didn’t pause. Withought waiting, they pushed the female into Jude’s mouth, head first. Jude felt the female human begin to struggle frantically as her head went into Jude’s mouth. Working automatically, Jude began to swallow the female human, working her deep into her mouth, into her throat. It was difficult trying to keep her teeth from scratching the female, with all the struggling. Didn’t she know that if she only kept still, that this would go much easier? Jude had to do something. Had to give this female some kind of signal…maybe some calm thoughts would help calm her. “Don’t be afraid.” Jude thought, focusing her thoughts on the woman she was swallowing. “I will not hurt you. I will not harm you. You have nothing to fear. I will care for you, I will keep you safe and warm within me.” And suddenly, the woman stopped struggling. She stopped thrashing. Surprised that it had worked, Jude continued swallowing, gulping down this temporary meal. The human’s shiny legs were pulled in, inch by inch, until only her feet were left sticking out. They did twitch and squirm a little, but Jude focused on finishing what she had started. With a powerful suck, the female’s feet were pulled into Jude’s mouth. Closing her jaws, Jude gave a powerful swallow, and felt the female being pulled into her throat, and felt her traveling into her stomach. She had to be careful now. No digestion while this human was inside her. The female was inside the stomach, but was struggling a little bit. Jude thought for a few moments. Maybe some gentle rocking would help quiet her down, done by a nice swim. Slowly turning, Jude worked herself off the stage and plopped back into the water of her gigantic tank. With a heavy splash, she took a deep breath and went under the surface, swimming lazily in the cool water. The female was still struggling slightly, but to Jude’s relief, she was calming down a bit. The human male, on the other hand, had been completely still while inside of her, only turning occasionally. He hadn’t been a problem at all. So Jude swam slowly and calmly through the water, letting it rock her huge body. Within a few minutes, the female had calmed down completely and was still. Surfacing for a breath, Jude looked over and saw the humans Nia and Liz coming out to join her. Jude paused and let them swim over to her. The two paddled over to her and tried to climb up onto her back. Smiling to herself, Jude sank a little into the water, allowing the two to climb onto her back. When they were on, Jude decided that a night swim in the ocean might be the perfect way to finish this evening. With both her trainers holding on, Jude slowly swam out of the tank, through the gate, and into the open ocean. The moon shone down brightly on the water, making it sparkle and glisten. Jude swam slowly, with no particular destination in mind. She simply enjoyed being in her natural environment, swimming around with the humans she loved most on her back. The coast soon disappeared behind them as Jude continued onwards. Time quietly slipped passed them, and before Jude knew it, several hours had gone by. She checked to see how her passengers were doing. The female was quiet inside her stomach, and it felt like the male was curled up inside her, his form still and relaxed. Jude felt the two humans on her back, and was amused to sense that they were asleep, still holding on to her. Ahh, these humans were a delight to be with. Though she felt like swimming further out, she knew that the humans would probably want to be back on land. Turning around, Jude swam back towards the marine park, careful not to let her friend’s fall off her back. They dozed, Liz holding onto Jude’s dorsal fin, and Nia curled up on top of her head. At last Jude pulled into the large tank, and headed straight for the stage. At this point Liz and Nia were stirring on her back, slowly waking up. Jude stopped next to the stage, and let Liz and Nia get off, their body postures showing that they were very sleepy. When they were sitting on the watery stage, Jude leapt up onto it and opened her mouth. Working with well-practiced precision, she slowly began to regurgitate the female inside her stomach. She was pushed through the throat, and out, out, out, until her head appeared in Jude’s mouth. With a giant push, the female fell out of Jude’s mouth, her shiny second skin covered with saliva. She looked very tired and worn out, but she didn’t look frightened anymore. Or scared for that mater. Time to get the male out as well. Making sure that she wasn’t rolling onto one of the humans, Jude rolled onto her side, exposing her tummy to the sky. Widening her vaginal opening, Jude detached her tube, and then began to push the male out of her, pushing him into her tube. She could feel him wiggling, as if he was protesting. But because he was wrapped in that shiny skin, he wasn’t able to stop his progress. Pushing and pushing, Jude felt him pop out her, head first. To Nia, the spectacle was quite a sight. It looked as if Jude was giving birth to a fully grown human. Which, in this case, was correctly. While Liz worked on releasing Mary from her bindings, Nia walked over to Oz, who was being pushed out of Jude’s Vagina. He slowly slid forward, until he finally fell onto the stage, covered with clear liquid, born a second time. Oz was moaning slightly as Nia began to undo the straps binding him inside the body bag. He didn’t seem hurt or damaged by his trip inside a killer whale. When the straps and the zipper was undone, Nia pulled off the bag and set it aside. Taking a large pair of scissors, she cut away the duct tape binding his body and cast the crumpled up mess away. With his limbs suddenly freed from their imprisonment, Oz stretched very slowly, uncertain of what to do next. He opened his eyes and looked around. Almost immediately, he shut them closed again. Why did everything have to be so dark after being in that wonderful place? He moaned, trying to work his eyes open again. His limbs were sore, but he had never felt so alive. Then he remembered his fiancée. “Mary?” He asked, opening his eyes and recognizing her limp form only a few feet away. He somehow managed to crawl across the water soaked stage until he reached his limp fiancée, who was now free of her bindings. He took her in his arms. “Oh honey.” He whispered. “Are you all right?” Mary opened her eyes and looked at him. There was a very large smile on her face. “Oh yes dear.” She said in a dreamy voice. “It was wonderful! I wish you could have been there!” Oz was surprised at this statement. “Uh…what happened?” “Well, I was terrified at first, being swallowed and all. But when I was halfway in, I suddenly felt calm, as if I knew that everything was going to be all right. It was as if…as if the killer whale had told me so. But it was incredible in there! So moist, soft, and cushy.” She looked directly into Oz’s eyes, and a twinkle crossed her face. “It was, so very…” She ran a hand over Oz’s groin. “…Hot.” Any fatigue or weariness Oz had suddenly left him. His eyes lit up as a thought came into his head. He turned to Nia. “Uhm, I know this is going to sound strange but…do you think we can…uh…go back inside the orca?” Nia was a bit baffled. “Why?” Then her eyes looked over the couple’s wetsuits, and she noticed something. The suits had zippers over the crotches. It was Nia’s turn for her eyes to go wide. She smiled. “Let me go find out.” She walked over to Jude, who was now back on her belly. After conversing with her, Nia came back. “Jude says sure.” Giggling like naughty children, the couple quickly got up and walked over to the orca, who had gotten back on her side. Her vagina was wide open, warm, and inviting. Mary went in first, giving a huge, inviting smile to her fiancée as he pulled herself into Jude’s vagina. Muscles gripped and pulled her in, and within thirty seconds her twitching feet were sucked into the dark hole. Grinning madly, Oz followed right behind her, happily crawling back into Jude’s dark hole, happily allowing the muscles to take hold and pull him into her wonderful warmth. When his feet were sucked in, the hole closed tightly, sealing the couple inside Jude. Rolling, Jude flopped back onto her belly, giving a large sigh as the couple continued on to her womb. Nia walked up to her large friend, placing her hand on the orca’s head, and began stroking her gently and tenderly. “So.” She said, smiling. “Are they happy?” “Yes.” Jude said. Her large eyes went wide briefly, as there was a sudden rush of movement inside her. “Very happy.” “That’s good.” Nia said, stroking Jude’s head, rubbing her wonderful skin. She sighed. Nia loved being with this orca so much. She was a wonderful being. “And I like being with you too.” Nia laughed as she embraced Jude’s head. Looking to the horizon, Nia saw the sun’s rays beginning to rise on the horizon. She yawned. It had been a very long day, and a very long night. Jude too, yawned. The orca was tired. “You sleepy?” Nia asked, as she tried to stop yawning. “Yes. Sleep sounds very good right now.” Nia chuckled. “Well, good thing it’s the weekend. No shows, no tricks. So if you want to go out to the ocean for a while, I’m sure you can.” “Why not come with me?” Jude asked. “You could get some rest too.” Nia smiled. “That sounds good…*yawn*…very good.” As Jude happily opened her mouth, and as Nia cheerfully started to crawl in, a thought came to her. “How’s the couple doing?” “They just finished.” Jude said. “And they are sleeping right now. They’ll sleep for quite a while.” Smiling, Nia happily crawled into Jude’s mouth, letting the orca swallow her. It was so relaxing, going into this orca. So soft, warm and squishy. As she was swallowed, and as she went deep into Jude’s stomach, Nia yawned, and let sleep come to her. With Nia now inside of her, Jude sensed that it was a good time to head out to sea and sleep. She swam out of the tank, through the gate, and into the open ocean, as the sun rose, spreading its warm rays upon the ocean.

This story was based of a series of pictures at a Yahoo group (which has, predictably, been deleted), where a woman was locked in a body cage, never to be released. As usual, any comments or critiques are always welcomed. Be warned that this is a grim story, with a not-too-happy ending. “Will you forgive me, my Pharaoh?” “Why should I?” The supreme ruler of all Egypt glared at his queen. “You have betrayed me, violated our sacred vows, and you have destroyed my trust. Why should I forgive you?” ...

(story continues from Mummified and Eaten 2.2) Some ideas in this story come from Brett Wade, who e-mailed them to me, and are being used here. Be warned that this story contains vore (people being eaten alive), in a non-violent manner (no blood). You’ve been warned! Part 3 It took a long time for the effects of the gas to wear off. When it did, consciousness first returned to Alex. She lay still, still groggy from the wonderful gas that she had inhaled. But…where was she? ...

It’s probably a good idea to read the previous machine stories, to get an idea of how the device works (which is not covered here). And in case you’re wondering, this story does not feature permenant encasment. The Machine 4 by Darkraptor1 Based off an original idea by Naughtylittlegirl It was a dark and stormy Friday night. The dark clouds covered the night sky, sending down torrents of rain upon the earth below. ...

It’s probably a good idea to read the previous machine stories, to get an idea of how the device works (which is not covered here). And in case you’re wondering, this story does not feature permenant encasment. The Machine 4 by Darkraptor1 Based off an original idea by Naughtylittlegirl It was a dark and stormy Friday night. The dark clouds covered the night sky, sending down torrents of rain upon the earth below. ...

This story was inspired by a series of pictures that Bonida did for a Yahoo group a while back. I liked them so much that I wrote a story for them. Hope you all enjoy! It was a glorious day outside. Soft and fluffy clouds drifted through the sky up above. Birds chirped as they flew from tree to tree over a green field. Loren heard nor saw any of those things. She was walking through the aisles at her favorite bed and furnishings store, hunting for just the right bed sheets. ...

Thanks to members of the Gromets plaza forum for helping to edit this story. The happiest day of their lives was almost upon them. Less then two months, and Robert and Natalie would be husband and wife, ready to begin a new life together. But they weren’t there yet. They had the ceremony to plan, guest lists to write and a location to plan. With all the planning that was needed to get a marriage ready, it was amazing to think that the happy couple hadn’t been driven insane yet. ...

A special thanks goes to Ultraprene for contributing several ideas to this story. Part 1: Las Vegas Here in the bright lights of Sin City, dreams are made, deals are struck, and fortunes are made and lost. A thousand things can and do happen here every day. Most of it goes unnoticed by the community at large. There are more important things, like making money, playing of the bills, and trying to find a place to park your car. ...

continued from part one Part 2: Memories. Her husband dying. The bill collectors. Bankruptcy. The government seizing her house and almost everything she owned. Homeless, she wandered the streets for many cold and miserable nights. The only shelter she knew had been the singles bar. Then he had walked in through the door… Rose smiled softly at the memory of first meeting that young man, seeing him come through that door. In him she saw her escape from the cold, homeless nights and loneliness. She wasn’t aware of smiling. She was asleep, despite the fact that she was hanging upside down in a cave, bound nose to toe in white, tight, and warm silk. Considering her predicament, it was a wonder that she could sleep at all. ...

This story is written in the style of Filador50’s classic story, the sentence. Just a little warning, this story does not end happily. The two of us stood side by side. Well, we were ten feet apart, both housed in tall steel cages, but at least we were close to each other. The room was silent. In front of us was a panel of judges. We had been brought down into this complex two days ago, captured after my sister had made one too many phone calls from one building. After tracing the calls, agents had burst in on us. We were arrested and taken into custody. ...

As this is my first real packaged story, I would appreciate any feedback regarding what I got right, and what I got wrong. I tried to focus on a human relationship, with the packaging being an element that added to the fun. I hope you all enjoy this story, as I had fun writing it. A special thanks goes to Tiedash, who proof read the first two parts of the story. ...

As this is my first real packaged story, I would appreciate any feedback regarding what I got right, and what I got wrong. I tried to focus on a human relationship, with the packaging being an element that added to the fun. I hope you all enjoy this story, as I had fun writing it. A special thanks goes to Tiedash, who proof read the first two parts of the story. ...

As this is my first real packaged story, I would appreciate any feedback regarding what I got right, and what I got wrong. I tried to focus on a human relationship, with the packaging being an element that added to the fun. I hope you all enjoy this story, as I had fun writing it. A special thanks goes to Tiedash, who proof read the first two parts of the story. ...

As this is my first real packaged story, I would appreciate any feedback regarding what I got right, and what I got wrong. I tried to focus on a human relationship, with the packaging being an element that added to the fun. I hope you all enjoy this story, as I had fun writing it. A special thanks goes to Tiedash, who proof read the first two parts of the story. ...

This is not a happy, fun bondage story. If you don’t like grim stuff, then you probably won’t enjoy this story. A special thank you must go to the members of the Gromets plaza forum, whose input and suggestions helped shape this story into its final form “Goodnight!” Twenty three-year-old Rebecca watched as the two old people walked out of the restaurant into the cold night. She let out a sigh of satisfaction. Two more happy customers. She put herself to work, clearing off the table that was covered in dishes and dirty utensils. ...

This story is a sequel to Brides of the Mummy It was extremely dark inside the corridors of the pyramid. Alexis poked her flashlight through the doorway, trying to see down the long hallway that stretched before her. “Alexis, come in. Status report.” The sudden plea squawking from the radio made her jump. She picked up the radio and pressed the reply button. “Nothing yet. I’m descending into the lower passageways.” ...

(story continues from Mummified and Eaten)_ _This is the second part of Mummified and Eaten. It follows Jonathan’s story after his mummified wife was eaten. It’s delicious to watch. I sit here in my chair, watching my lovely but unfaithful wife be eaten alive by a huge anaconda. And to top it all off, she is also mummified at the same time. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on by something before. The snake reaches my wife’s head, and I think I need to say something. I get up out of my chair and walk over to my wife, who looks up at me with pleading eyes. “Don’t worry.” I say. “It will be over soon.” ...

“Excuse me Pharaoh, but the women are here for your inspection.” The sun shone through the pillars of the palace as the ruler of Egypt strolled through the marble corridors with his scribe. His expression was neutral, no facial movement showed his inner emotions. “Tell me again Maud, how many have you found?” the Pharaoh asked. “One hundred, my Pharaoh, all young and willing. They are very eager to meet you.” ...

Drider: a hybrid between a spider and a human. The drider has the abdomen, legs, and body of a spider, and the upper half of a human positioned where the spiders head would be. * * * * Samantha glanced down at her wristwatch. 6:30 AM “Dang.” She thought. “I’m going to be late getting home. Better pick up the pace.” She quickened her stride, the powerful, well-toned muscles within her calves pumping in response. Her shoes began to hit the pavement faster and faster as her speed quickened. ...

Adapted from an original idea by Wrappers Delight. Ariaza and Narell were two of a kind. Both were stubborn and independent, both secretly despised authority, and they were deeply in love with each other. But it was a forbidden love. For Narell was a priest of Pharaoh’s court, learned in the knowledge of the great faith and in matters of the spirit. Ariaza was the Pharaoh’s daughter, the princess of Egypt. She was to wed only royalty. Anyone not within a family of royal blood was not worthy of marrying a princess. But Ariaza and Narell both held a deep hatred for rules. For them, love was the only rule that they would follow. ...

Part Two One thing that I’ve noticed about stories where a person is wrapped up and shipped off overseas is that we never find out what happens when the lucky person gets there. This story follows the idea of what happens when a person is en route and delivered. “Well, looks like she’s complete!” The announcer’s voice is exceptionally difficult to hear now. “Let’s take her away!” My crate is slowly lifted up, then slid into something. Then I hear an engine start up, and the crate begins to move! ...

Drider: For those of you who don’t know what a Drider is, it’s a hybrid between a spider and a human. The drider has the abdomen, legs, and body of a spider, and the upper half of a human positioned where the spiders head would be. * * * * Although she was on a giant web, and the fact that a Drider was wrapping her up, Anne still had enough sense to phone her business clients. ...

The newest reality TV series - “Who Wants a New Life”. “And welcome back to, ‘Who wants a new life’ ” I groan as I watch the host of the show walk around on the stage floor, boasting to the audience about how popular the show is, and how they are going to choose the winner, blah blah blah. For a few moments I wonder why on earth I’m here. It’s pretty simple. My life as a secretary at a business office was not exactly the most exciting job on earth, so I decided to try this new reality series on TV that promises that winners will have their lives totally re-done for them. Despite my family’s wishes, I went in to sign up. ...

The newest reality TV series - “Who Wants a New Life”. This is part one of a story. The majority of the mummy action will take place in following part(s). Hope you all enjoy! “And welcome back to, ‘Who wants a new life’ ” I groan as I watch the host of the show walk around on the stage floor, boasting to the audience about how popular the show is, and how they are going to choose the winner, blah blah blah. ...

Thanks to everyone who E-mailed me with their very kind comments about the first three parts of this story, it really made me feel good reading them! Here is the final part of the story. Be forewarned that this story contains some death (unseen, but implied). I do not advocate violence against women in any form. Remember that this is a fantasy story, not a real story. Please E-mail with any thoughts you have about the story. ...

Part 1 - Anakamum Egypt, the year 500 B.C. Princess Anakamum was very suspicious about this new advisor that her father had appointed to look over the family affairs. She didn’t like the way he moved, the way he talked, or the way his attitude indicated that he was interested in more then just the families well being. Princess Anakamum was a beautiful tall woman with golden flowing hair, who had a sweet personality and was a joy to get to know. She was the fourth daughter in the royal family of Egypt. She also had two sisters, Demetriery, and Salalo. ...

The cold walls of the cell surrounded Thomas as he lay on the bunk, staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Considering the size of the cell, and the complete and utter lack of anything to keep his attention, his mind wandered towards what he would be doing the rest of the day. A bit of weight lifting perhaps, a dinner composed of crappy food… and that was it. Day after day of the same meaningless activities to keep him occupied… what was even more depressing was the fact that this was the rest of his life. There would be no escape from the monotony, as the possibility for parole hadn’t been included when the judge had ordered him to be sent here. That fact had long since bored itself into his brain, but Thomas couldn’t get his mind off that unpleasant fact. There was movement near the cell door. His roommates coming back from breakfast maybe? “All right Morrison, up and at ‘em.” Thomas looked up curiously. One of the guards was waiting for him at the door. As far as he knew, he didn’t have an appointment with the fine officers of the prison. “What’s going on?” he asked as he got off the bunk and walked over to the gate. “Warden wants to see you.” “Him? Why?” “Hell if I know.” “Did I break a rule?” “Don’t think so. He didn’t offer any details. Now come on, slip your hands through.” With well practiced precision, Thomas put his hands through the opening in the bars, allowed the guard to lock the handcuffs on. The cold steel gripped his hands as the gate was opened and he walked out. The guard led him through the wing of the prison towards the central hub, where the warden’s office waited. They entered a few moments later, where the warden was waiting in his plump chair. “Take a seat Morrison.” Thomas did so. “If I may ask,” he said. “Why am I here?” “Don’t worry, you didn’t break any rules or get into trouble,” the warden said. “In fact, that’s precisely the reason you’re here.” Confused, Thomas looked at the warden. “Morrison, there’s a new program being started up by the state. It’s scheduled to go into full operation about a year from now, but currently it’s in the last stages of testing. It’s a new method of housing prisoners, and they’re looking for someone to test it out on.” It only took a second for Morrison to realize where this was going. “They sent out a bulletin to us last night asking if we had anyone who could be a test subject, and I immediately thought of you.” “Why?” “Simple. You’re one of the best inmates we got. Spotless record, never caused a fuss, never got in a fight. You’re grade A prisoner, and that’s who they’re looking for.” Thomas wasn’t sure if he was flattered or not. “Oh.” “Because of that, I wanted to offer you the opportunity to try out this new housing procedure before anyone else.” “What’s in it for me?” “Well, it’ll be a lot more comfortable and possibly more enjoyable then spending most of your time in cells…” That got Thomas’s attention. “I figured that would catch your eye. Now, I can’t tell you exactly what this procedure is, but if you’re interested, all you have to do is say the word.” “I’d rather be freed.” “Sorry, but we can’t arrange that. You know what the judge said. Life without parole. Even working in this experiment can’t change that. All we can offer is to make your life more comfortable. It only took a few moments for Thomas to make up his mind. “Done.” “That quick, eh?” “If it gets me out of this hellish place, I’ll do it.” “Figured you’d say that. We’ve already got a van set to take you out there. You need to get your things?” Thomas shook his head. “Nothing to get.” “All right then. I’ll send word out to get you going… you do know they’ll have to transport you in full gear, right? High name prisoner like you needs to be tied down.” “I won’t run.” “I know. But rules are rules.” “I can take it.” “Good. Better get going then.” Thomas stood, the guard coming up to escort him out. As he started out, Thomas paused. “Oh, warden… what exactly is this facility?” The warden shook his head. “They didn’t say.” ...

For this story, I decided to try something a little different. I’ve combined two of my favorite fantasies together for this story. Mummification and Vore. For those of you who don’t know what vore is, it is a fantasy about being eaten alive, or watching someone (or something) else being eaten alive by another creature or being. It’s a fairly uncommon fantasy, so if it doesn’t appeal to you, you won’t get much out of this story. And for your knowledge, there is no blood or graphic violence in this story (OK, maybe a little blood, but in a non-violent way, and some references to digestion while still alive). The setting is a husband who wants to get rid of his wife, and has come up with an interesting way of doing so. ...

Some ideas in this story come from Brett Wade, who e-mailed them to me, and are being used here. Be warned that this story contains vore (people being eaten alive), in a non-violent manner (no blood). You’ve been warned! Part 1 “Honey, I’m hungry.” Sala’s husband put her book down and looked at her curiously. “Really? You just ate a month ago.” A mischievous smile crept onto Sala’s face. “Yes, I know. But this one…” She rubbed her smooth and cool belly “…is all done. I’m feeling up for more meat.” ...

(story continues from Mummified and Eaten 2.1) Some ideas in this story come from Brett Wade, who e-mailed them to me, and are being used here. Be warned that this story contains vore (people being eaten alive), in a non-violent manner (no blood). You’ve been warned! Part 2 For Sala and Ralph, the night was full of pleasure and happiness as the two shared their love for each other. For Alex and Samantha, the night was one of terror, of breathing through tubes, struggling to overcome the panic that gripped them. With no references for time, it ceased to exist. ...

Another Mummified and eaten story. This one features one of my favorite animals, orcas (who I find to be incredibly sexy animals). Luckily for those who don’t like grim endings, this one does not feature any fatal eating. How so? Read on. There’s no grim stuff in this one. No deaths, no blood, just affection and care. Mummified and Eaten: Orca snack By Darkraptor11 It was a great life she had. ...

Entry from the S(A)X Leather Bondage Story competition 2005 Do you ever get the feeling that your life is a waste? That everything you do is nothing more then a time killer? That was my life. If one seeks to find personal enlightment and fulfillment, then having a desk job will most likely not get you there. Day in, day out, doing endless paperwork and forms. Taking coffee breaks. Eating doughnuts in the staff lounge. Five days a week, four weeks a month, twelve months a year. It just didn’t end. As one can imagine, I was desperate for something different. Something new, something exciting. So, one day while at my desk, I asked God for help. “God.” I thought. “Can you help me get out of this mess? I want something new, something fulfilling” ...