Shokolada on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Domme Disposal Date

Sat, 13 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I knew I was captivated by her after the third date. We had no trouble talking about a dozen subjects for hours, and her eyes shone with that delightful mix of intelligence and mischief. When Janet revealed she was kinky and a dominatrix, that just excited me further. I’d had some experience with light bondage and spanking, and we discussed fetishes for the rest of the evening.

That was when Janet offered to show me her playroom, and I quickly agreed. She had an excellent if simple setup in the basement: St. Andrew’s cross, spanking bench, massage table with tie-down points and a cage underneath. An electric winch dangled from a beam for suspensions, and the floor was non-slip foam with a drain in the center. I know looking at it all made me a little flushed and I was already imagining myself under her tender mercies.

Another Bag In The Pile

Sun, 03 Feb 2013 00:00:00 +0000

It was dark in here, really dark. My eyes were covered twice over and the lights would be off anyway - it’s rare these days to be swallowed up by that much black. Thankfully it didn’t smell bad in here… most of what I could smell was my own body, and that’s not unpleasant at all. All I could taste is the gag, and all I could feel is slick plastic: that, I felt everywhere. That, and nothing else. Very little to hear either, except some household utility mechanism doing its 24/7 thing. Honestly, the whole experience is usually pretty restful.

Ready for Transport

Sat, 21 Jan 2012 00:00:00 +0000

She looked out at the blasted landscape before her. Huge shadows moved in the valleys below, cloaked in twilight, and perhaps something else. Inhuman cries drifted into the air alongside faint sounds of rending and smashing.

“I… I can’t believe it’s all gone,” she said to the quiet, robed form beside her.

“After all the eons of waiting, the stars were right. Promises long-made have been kept,” it grunted. “Your bargain with us was well-advised; some members of the human race will survive. Now, we honor our side of the arrangement.”

Can It!

Sun, 04 Dec 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Another tale of Mistress Messiér’s household

My name is AJ Pine, and all I wanted was a cupcake. Oh sure, I’d heard rumors about the sort of things that happened in Mistress Messiér’s house. But I didn’t take them very seriously. The money was good, and plenty of staff made the hours easy and the work light. Okay, sure, all of us running around in black PVC maid uniforms was kind of strange; but I looked smashing in mine, and yay rich weirdos, am I right? But if there was one thing that Mistress was famous for, it was her dinner parties: and not the main course, either. I mean, those were wonderful enough, and there was always enough left over for the staff to pillage. I think that was intentional. But the desserts! Oh lord, the desserts. Chocolate cakes, layered until they should have fallen over. Chocolate cream pies, vanilla cream pies, and lemon meringue all boasted the fluffiest of toppings, and sat light as a feather in the stomach. We served rich, thick, smooth puddings; moist, delicate yellow cake and sponge cake cut into adorable shapes; and those cupcakes. One bite of the devil’s food cake and the amazing buttercream icing, and you knew you’d spend an extra day in Purgatory atoning. And that’s where it went wrong. You see, we never get any of those, the guests don’t leave us a scrap. And there’s tons of it. So, one day, a couple of evenings before the party, I crept into the kitchen on a mission. I’m a little short, so I had to bring a step stool; but in the top cabinet hid my objective. I opened the door, and there was a tray of chocolate cupcakes. In no time I had the paper off one and half of it in my mouth. There wasn’t time to savor it, but it was so incredible! And then a shadow fell over me. Redheaded Iscah, supervisor for my section, stood over me with an angry expression and a threatening wooden spoon in her hand. I had to admit, scared as I was, that the black PVC uniform looked great on her too. Or… was the fear helping that? “I’m… um… sorry?” I said. “I don’t doubt that for a moment,” Iscah answered. “In fact, I’m sure you don’t know how sorry you are yet. But you will.” And she dropped the spoon, and in a movement I was completely unprepared for, grabbed me around the waist and slung me over her shoulder. Did I mention I was a bit short? Iscah… isn’t. I just hung over her with my composure completely gone. I remembered Mistress saying we could be canned for rules infractions, but a single cupcake wasn’t worth being fired for! Well… okay. It wasn’t the first. But my sad-kitty-eyes-look had done the trick with the other maids. Didn’t look like it would with Iscah. It wasn’t a complete loss. The backs of Iscah’s legs were quite lovely poking out from her pink-trimmed vinyl skirt, and I had some time to look at them as she carried me into the lift and it began to move down. When the doors opened, I quickly figured out that we were in the ground floor utility room - I could see a small pile of stuffed trash bags in the corner, rubbish that wouldn’t stink up the place until we took it out. Then I heard a creak, and a thump, and I slid down from Iscah’s shoulder… … into the depths of a huge black trash can, lined with a heavy liner and already holding a few small filled plastic bags that cushioned my landing. I couldn’t easily see over the the rim of the can. “What? What the hell is this? What are you doing -” I started to yell, but Iscah produced a ball gag from somewhere and swiftly, expertly fastened it on me. I could only grunt with frustration, and didn’t react in time either to her binding my hands together from fingertips to wrists with a small roll of plastic shipping wrap. Iscah reached down and grabbed a slightly smaller plastic trash bag that I’d been sitting in unaware. I say slightly, because she was able to bring it up over my head and twist-tie it shut. Her quick fingers poked a few air holes in the plastic, and the next noise sounded a lot like someone had equipped the can with a vent fan. “Sit tight,” Iscah sighed. “We’ll see how much trouble you are in.” A heavy thump sounded, it got dark, and I heard a metallic snick. This wasn’t good.

Time passed, I have no idea how much. We don’t wear watches at work, and I didn’t have a chance of getting that lid open. I was getting plenty of fresh air though, and had resigned to waiting it out, when I heard steps, a filled bag being set down next to me, and the lock click open. And there was light! Iscah undid my bag, and took off the gag. I wasted no time. “I said I was sorry!” “That’s what you said the last time, and the time before, and the time before,” Iscah said. I didn’t know she knew about those. “Now the mistress will be short of desserts for her guests tonight, and you know how she loves her desserts.” “She’s got so many desserts, what difference did those make?” “Because those were for tonight. You know the rules around here, Pine. Get caught snitching desserts, you get canned.” Ohhhh. Cute. “I thought that meant I’d be fired.” I wiggled around in the can, making my bag rustle in the faint hope it would suddenly inspire Iscah to let me out. “Nope. Around here, you get canned. Now hold still.” She reached down to where I’d heard her set her filled trash bag, and when she stood, she held one of Mistress’ heavy, thick cream pies. Five seconds later, I realized with a shock that she had shoved that pie right in my face! The goo oozed to the top of my head, into my ears, down the neckline of my uniform, and into the bag where I sat. My bound hands did suffice to clear my eyes and nose. “Ack! What - what the heck was that?” “Mistress sent me down here to throw away some things. Too bad there was already something in the can…” “Some thing?!? Some one!” And then, dammit, she hit me with another pie. It was yummy: I couldn’t deny that. Hey… “That doesn’t look like trash to me!” “Well, you wouldn’t want actual garbage in there with you, right? Ewww.” The way Iscah said it left my own status uncertain. I had another thought. “Um… Those are awfully tidy pies for having been in the bottom of that trash bag.” “You talk a lot.” And she got it from I don’t know where, but Iscah picked up a big red bucket that I found was full of chocolate brownie batter, because I could easily taste it as it ran down my face and hair. “Oh… god… I can’t see a thing… what have you done to my hair?” “Funny thing that, you’ll find that its some of the best conditioner around. Not that you’ll see a shower soon.” And no sooner had I cleared my eyes and nose then that she-devil clamped two vanilla cream pies to the sides of my head, like a pie sandwich. “Noooo,” I protested vainly, “I thought we were running short of desserts…” “Heavens no. Not in this household. It’s the ones you got into that upset Mistress. Why, if you’d asked, I’m sure she’d have made you a cake.” Yeah, funny lady. “Why do I think that meant I’d have been covered in frosting and had little candles perched on me?” “At least you would have been safe from dripping wax! Speaking of cake,” and a huge mixing bowl overfull of yellow cake batter cascaded over my face, and down my shoulders, and I’m sure that witch got a ton of it into my cleavage on purpose. I could only cry out. “Ahhhhhh…” “My goodness - it really is noisy in here.” And she pied me again, and again. Would this never end? “And finally… you liked the cupcakes so much… Mistress arranged something special.” Oh no. One, two, three, a dozen, I lost count of how many of those cupcakes were cruched into my hair, my face, my ears, my bosom. To be honest, the one Iscah shoved in my mouth was kind of enjoyable. But when she finally got bored, I was a complete wreck. “That’s the lot. And now, time to take the trash out.” I couldn’t even speak any more, even without the gag. She closed the inner bag over my head, lowered the lid, and… no. Are you kidding me? No way. No way at all. My can tilted back, then rolled forward. I was moving. I called out again, uselessly. “I said I was sorry!” It didn’t matter. We bumped over the doorsill - that wasn’t fun - and I could immediately hear the patter of raindrops on the lid of the can. Finally, motion stopped, and Iscah opened my lid and bag again. “And there you go. Mistress said to take the trash out, and I did. You’ve got air holes, so you should be fine until she calms down and I can bring you back inside. Doesn’t usually take more than an hour or two.” Then… oh, then… Iscah kissed me. I couldn’t believe it! How dare she! After all that had just happened, how could she do that? And… and… how could I have liked it? Bag - closed. Lid - down. Lock - click. Fan - whir. Stuck in here in this nasty, slimy, pretty-good-smelling bag for two hours? Two whole hours? … That was a pretty nice kiss…

I guess I fell asleep. I didn’t know what time it was when I awoke, so I started banging on the lid as best I could through my bag, and with my wrapped hands; it must have been two hours by now. After a short period, the lock clicked, and the lid opened. Bright light, blinding light! How long had I been in there? It was dark when she kissed me! Someone, I couldn’t see who, stripped the wrap from my hands and shoved a damp rag into them. I cleared a little of the gunk from my face, but once I could see, no one was there. My small step-stool sat next to the can, and I climbed out with some difficulty; my hands and feet were still slippery, and I didn’t want to fall. The utility room door stood open. I walked inside. From behind a hanging tarp sat a huge table of the desserts similar to the ones with which Iscah had tortured me, and a note. “My AJ, “I am aware of what has passed over the course of the night, and I feel you may have properly learned your lesson. “However, Iscah overstepped her bounds a few times, and we cannot have that in this household. She will be down shortly, and does not know you have been freed. Would you assist me with some correction? “With my appreciation, “Mistress M.” I looked at the pile of filled black plastic bags which still sat against the wall. My gooey face slowly wore a grin. The wheeled bin would have to stay outside; but now that I knew I was no longer canned… it was time for Iscah to get trashed. —– THE END —–

Every Precaution Is Taken

Mon, 03 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Rebecca looked nervously around the basement. No one was around, but she still blushed at the thought of getting caught doing what she was about to do. Well, the blush was part excitement and part embarrassment, but still it would be much easier if no one else in the building found out about her little game.

In the basement corner squatted a nice big pile of stuffed shiny black trash bags - the building’s refuse for the last couple of days. Just looking at it made her heart race, made her squirm. She wanted nothing more than to be bound and stuffed in one of those soft shiny bags, to be left there for an indeterminate period to reflect on her position. For months she’d been thinking about it, and had some wonderful session masturbating to the mental pictures - now, on a cool Monday afternoon, it was time to do something about her fantasies!

Penny's Peril

Tue, 07 Aug 2007 00:00:00 +0000

“Are you ready for the party, little Penny?”

Penny had been ready for weeks, ever since Mistress Tamara had told her about the upcoming BDSM Social. She loved the group’s events, and while it hadn’t been mentioned yet, Penny’s birthday was only a few days afterward, and she was hoping that Mistress had something planned.

However, being excited wasn’t what Mistress meant by ‘ready’ - she meant being dressed. Penny walked out of her bedroom in the black PVC maid’s dress she’d been ordered to wear: long-sleeved with a high collar, and a short skirt flaring widely out over a nylon crinoline. Neither the skirt nor the short, broad white PVC apron did a sufficient job of hiding the tight black unlined vinyl panties underneath.

It's Trash Day

Sat, 05 Nov 2005 00:00:00 +0000

“It’s trash day,” she says, and I’m eager to find out what she has in mind. She sends me into the bedroom to strip, while I hear her doing something in the spare room involving rustling plastic. When I’m nude, she leads me into the kitchen, kissing me on the way there with a grin.

Before I sit on the cold kitchen tile, she produces an hourglass shape of black plastic cut from a trash bag, slips it through my crotch and ties the corners off, making a set of shiny briefs. I sit down then with my knees against my chest, the thin material not blocking the cold at all, but I warm up a bit with excitement as she produces a length of rope. She slips my arms between my knees, and proceeds to tie my wrists and ankles to each other. Soon, I’m not going anywhere.

A 'Birthday' Treat!

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Our new friend Mei had never heard of BDSM play with plastic garbage bags before, but she’s taken to it like a duck to water, to the point where she’ll make herself a trash bag dress to wear even when we’re doing completely unrelated kinky activities. (Do I mind? Heck no!) The other day when I came home from work, I found Mei and Azure tangled up naked on the bed playing around together, and I made the mistake of teasing them about it… almost before I knew what was going on, they had me naked and bound, and the black plastic was being zipped shut over my head. They proceeded to go on with what they’d been doing, as I lay there helpless and able only to listen. That was one of the most erotic afternoons I’ve had in some time, especially since they’d fondle and tease me during their breaks! But the post I’ve been promising is about a few weekends ago, when Mei threw me a birthday party early on a Saturday afternoon. The fact that it wasn’t my birthday didn’t seem to slow her down a bit; when I came into the play room, the table had a few presents and was covered in whipped cream pies, frosted sheet cakes, cans of pudding, and much more. I opened my presents, but Mei decided she was very cross with me when I admitted that I hadn’t gotten around to inviting anyone else to a party I hadn’t even been aware of :) She brought out the little PVC frame I’d used on sirgirlie, and soon I was sitting in the middle of it in the depths of a 55-gallon trash bag. Mei wasted little time covering me with every single one of the desserts she had laid out - I must have been eight inches deep in the stuff when she was done. (This, too, was her first messy play scene, and she enjoyed it so much that she’s eager for some turnaround as soon as we can set it up.) Soon, satisfied with her work, she found a zip-tie and sealed me up tightly in what she merrily called my “plastic prison”. Now, I assumed she’d leave me in there for a while, teasing me a bit and possibly even using me once or twice, and that’s exactly what happened. But after about a half-hour of this, to my surprise I heard another bag being shaken out, as she told me there were too many little holes in my bag now and she didn’t want to clean up a mess. Mei rolled me back and forth, and from side to side, as she slipped not one but two more bags around me and tied them both off. I did have air holes, but I couldn’t help but hope that they remained properly lined up through all those layers! Then, I heard a sound I couldn’t believe. The front door opened, and I heard the hollow rattling sound of the big blue recycling can being wheeled into the play room. I’d told Mei what I did to Girlie a few weeks ago, but I hadn’t even suggested to her that we should do that scene together. And yet, I heard the noise of a couple bags of padding being tossed into the bottom, then the sound of the can being laid on its side so she could slide me in! Now, a confession. Getting an adult human being into a four-foot-tall garbage can is not as easy as the stories say, especially when said adult isn’t especially small. I had some trouble with my Girlie, and Mei put forth considerable time and effort to do it to me. She later confessed that next time, she’s probably going to want the help of another top. But eventually she got me in, and tossed a few more bags in on top of me to get me the full effect… and soon I felt the rough bounces of the can going down the front porch steps! The rush of endorphins was unbelievable. I certainly couldn’t move in there… I could breathe fine, but not quite comfortable… and soon I felt the sun beating down on the plastic can lid, and the black plastic around me soaking up heat. I couldn’t sense Mei around anywhere - I couldn’t doubt she was nearby, but it was easy to imagine that she wasn’t - that she was back in the house, resting on the couch and maybe watching TV as she left me to my fate. Cars drove by, and I feared to even wiggle too much in case I should somehow be seen. There’s not much more detail to tell. Mei says I was out there for over 45 minutes, and I will say that I could move just enough to give myself a powerful, earth-shattering treat, the afterglow of which lasted long after she finally retrieved me. Though she got me back to the steps, she was too worn out to get the can back up them, and I was so shaky from the cramping and endorphins that I couldn’t even stand up. We got me out and in the front door, and dragged me to the shower where I could start washing all the mess off, and slowly regained the use of my legs. There was quite a lot of cleanup to do afterwards, I’m afraid… the can still has chocolate smears all over it… but I was grinning too much to care. So that’s my story of my first trip to the curb. I think there’s a very good chance that it won’t be my last.