How people have changed. I am much older now but continue to have the desire to have someone put me in a large canvas laundry bag, tie it up and leave me in the bag for maybe 30 minutes or so. This is just for fun. I really enjoyed the experience of being helpless in the bag. Today people have a very different attitude. They are not interested in having some good honest fun with me. Their idea is to do me physical harm, so of course I cannot trust anyone now. ...

My wife had been putting on those Fun Parties; you know the ones were all the women buy sex toys, books and other stuff, for a few years now. One day she tells me that she needs to add something to my sales line, something different. “Like what?” I asked. “ I don’t know” she said. “You know how we like latex, why not some of that. It really works for us. Maybe some cheap catsuits or something.” ...

Gromet says: Would love to be Sierra/maid… “I want the maids in the house,” I remember telling my husband. Sean had again been flirting with them, and even though he knew I would throw a fit, he still asked if we should get rid of them. “They keep this giant mansion clean, because I know I don’t want to do it.” He agreed, apologized for groping the android maid, and then made me sing 3 times in bed that night as an “I’m sorry, Sierra.” I was still kind of mad, but not really. ...

Gromet says: Would love to be Sierra/maid… “I want the maids in the house,” I remember telling my husband. Sean had again been flirting with them, and even though he knew I would throw a fit, he still asked if we should get rid of them. “They keep this giant mansion clean, because I know I don’t want to do it.” He agreed, apologized for groping the android maid, and then made me sing 3 times in bed that night as an “I’m sorry, Sierra.” I was still kind of mad, but not really. ...

Laras immortal adventures. The day to day boredom has officially started to get to me. I spend most of my days pacing my apartment back and forth trying to think of something to do. I haven’t needed to work ever since I became immortal 3 years ago. Though I do occasionally like to eat out every now and again. Fast food wasn’t necessarily cheap but it was definitely worth it. I was making my way back into the living room when my cell phone rang. It lit up with a picture of my best friend Anna. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A Commencement Address I would Love to Hear Strange things can happen when you start looking at life in a totally new– and dirty– way. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * ...

My first sexual, fantasy type thoughts after the news of intimate action between You and Your close, female friend. i’ll just call her “kitty” for the stories sake. You’ve known her much longer than You’ve known me, i could see the attraction between the two of You all along, and it made sense to me even then. i could see the sexual tension for You in her posture. Makes even more sense to me now, i just didn’t comprehend it then. her as Your femsub, and me being the even lower, all out Female dominated male sub, under Your control. As well as kinda being hers, under Your control. Your loving poly family. It seems so right to me. Even with poly having the second meaning of plastic to me. WE/we all arrange to make the living conditions happen and it works out great together. With You leading the household and kitty and me serving You well. Often, You reward us for serving You with so much love. Although sometimes, You are not in the mood to reward me, and kitty is instructed to have a little fun punishing me with bondage, whipping, suffocation, and strangulation before bagging me up in my trash closet or the huge, household trash can for a bit of forced, submissive meditation to reinforce my place within Your household garbage. You both always tease about how i really WILL end up getting trashed by the two of You eventually. ...

You’ve been lying here 20 minutes now, wondering what’s going to happen. Face down on the bed, naked and hogtied with cable ties. Waiting for another night of fun, but tonight is different. I walk in eventually, you notice something is up, I’m just wearing a pair of joggers and a hoodie, my hair is tied back and my sleeves rolled up. Usually I wear something sexy for you but tonight I look like I’m going to do some housework. That’s cause I am. I don’t even acknowledge you as I leave again and go to the kitchen. I come back in holding a roll of extra large, heavy duty, black, garbage bags in one hand and a roll of duct tape in the other. I toss them next to your face on the bed and leave again. This time I return with the vacuum cleaner and leave it next to the bed. I stand there, look at you and sigh. I start to unravel one of the shiny and smooth, garbage bags and rip it off the roll. “What’s the vacuum cleaner for?” You ask curiously, as I climb behind you. I completely ignore your question and instead lean close and pinch your nose shut. As your mouth opens instinctively to breathe, you start to feel me packing the un-open garbage bag I ripped off into your mouth until the whole thing is in there. Forgetting to let go of your nose, you start to choke as I force it in. I hold my hand over your mouth to keep it in, then start wrapping it up in tape. Round and round. Pulling it tight as I go until I’m satisfied you’re not going to make a sound. Then you start to feel me wrapping up your cable ties with the thick, duct tape, securing the hogtie. Making sure all your limbs are stuck tight. You even feel me tape up your fingers and toes. You wonder for a second if I’m maybe going a bit over the top but that soon fades as the ecstasy of being helpless starts taking over and you start to enjoy it. “I wouldn’t get too excited, if I were you.” I say calmly, noticing your dripping erection. You look up at me nervously wondering what I’m planning. You try to mouth words through your gag, asking what the hell I’m going on about, but nothing comes out. Just a quiet muffled noise. “Shhhh, don’t worry!” I laugh. “I’ll explain everything, it’s the least I can do considering what I’m about to do to you. I want you to know what’s going to happen and why I’m doing this to you.” You heart stops for a moment, what’s she going to do? Your mind starts racing. “Well, unfortunately, I’m bored of you now. You’ve exhausted your last bit of usefulness and just like every disposable object, which you are, you have an expiry date. That date is today, right now.” You start to nervously chuckle through your gag before I interrupt your amusement. “I’m not fucking joking! You are done. I’m going to pack you up in these garbage bags like the worthless junk you are and throw you out with all the rest of the trash. I guess you could say, I’m dumping you.” I giggle at my own joke, proud of myself for my quick humor as you panic on the bed, wondering if this crazy girl is actually serious. Well, she is. “Oh yeah, you were wondering what the vacuum cleaner was for? Well, today I spent all day cleaning up SO much trash. There are so many bags that I’m going to have to vacuum pack you to fit you in the dumpster with it all.” Then you realize, she is serious. You start begging through your gag as I rip off more garbage bags from the roll. I don’t say a word. I just shake the bag open and slide it over your head and shoulders. I grab onto the tape holding your legs and hands together in your hogtie and use it to slide you into the shiny, smooth, thick bag. You get pushed all the way to the end and start feeling me pushing the air out of the black bag and bringing the sides of the bag together as everything gets darker. You lie there, helplessly moaning as you hear me plug in the vacuum. “You better hold your breath” I laugh. “Or don’t, I don’t care.” With that, the vacuum nozzle is put into the bag and the switch goes on. You feel the bag slowly start to suck in around you and your heart starts racing. The confining plastic closes in. Getting tighter and tighter. Before you know it, you are having to blow the bag from your face as it keeps getting sucked into your nose until finally you are air tight. I hold the vacuum there a few extra seconds just to make sure I’ve got all the air out, then I tape up the end tight. Bending the end over on itself, making sure nothing escapes and taping it again. By this point, you are starting to struggle for air, trying to signal me to let you breathe. I climb on top of your vac bagged body and all you hear is the sound of tape being ripped off of the roll. You feel me start to wrap the thick, black tape around your mouth, as if I was gagging you again, then around your eyes. Now you are screaming for air. “But garbage doesn’t need to breathe.” I say mockingly. I play with you a little and rub your dick with my hand as hard as I can before I finally pop a hole in each of your nostrils for air before you pass out. “I want you conscious for this, you’ll have plenty of chances to suffocate later.” Starting to resign yourself to your fate, you hear the unraveling of yet another trash bag. The exact same thing happens again as before. You get slid inside, air sucked out and a couple of holes to breathe through your nostrils. This in fact happens another two times until I’m satisfied. “Now I need to make you look less suspicious incase someone happens to come across you. I wouldn’t get your hopes up though, I’m going to make sure you are nowhere near the top of the dumpster for anyone to find but I don’t want to take any chances.” I open up a final three trash bags and put them inside each other and lie them open, upwards, on the floor. I leave the room and come back with two full garbage bags from the weeks kitchen trash. I cut one open and dump it into the three layered, open bags and throw the now empty kitchen bag in with it as well. “I can’t tell the difference between you and the trash in this bag if I’m completely honest, but that’s just me.” I say passively. With that, I grab your feet and slide you off the bed and into the bags. You land with a bit of a thud but most of the garbage breaks your fall. Then I grab the other full kitchen bag and cut that open and dump it on top of you. “Now it’s time to take out the trash, I’m getting rid of you for good.” You give off a scream as I pull the draw strings together and tie it tight, not sealing off the bag completely so that you get some air through. You can feel and smell the garbage around you now. Packed tightly in my trash and sealed almost completely in a plastic bag, you can’t help but smell your sweat and arousal as well. Wondering if I’ll actually dig through the nasty trash to free you. Knowing your going to be trapped under a mountain of bags very soon, who knows if and when you’ll get any air. You feel me sliding you all the way too the garage. With you all packed up tight, you are a lot easier to lift into the trunk of my car but I still struggle and eventually drop you into it with a big thud. “Oh shit!” I scream. For a moment you think I’m concerned for your safety but that hope dies fast as you realize I was worried about having loose trash falling out of the bag into my trunk. Those heavy duty bags don’t rip easy though. And I’ve lost count of how many you are in. You hear me load up the garbage from the big clean up earlier before I close the trunk and we take a short trip to a remote area with a few dumpsters. The trunk opens. “This is it, time to throw you away with the garbage. No coming back now, this is happening. No ones going to find you, you’re going to lie in that dumpster under all the trash until you either suffocate or get crushed with the trash in the garbage truck. Pick-up here isn’t that regular so it will be a while before anyone comes by and I’m going to lock the dumpster shut just to make sure you stay where you belong. Most importantly, die where you belong. I walk away and grab a shopping kart lying around that some hobo probably left, then proceed to lift you into it. The dumpster has a ramp up to it so I push you in the cart all the way up to the opening. “Oh wow! That stinks! If you think that kitchen trash is bad you’ve got another thing coming.” Then I lean in close so you can hear me clearly. “I’m going to go home now and cum to the thought of you lying here, knowing I’ve finally taken out the trash for good. Thinking of you gasping on rotten, hot air until eventually enough plastic bags fall on your filthy face and send you to sleep for good. Knowing you’ll never be found, just another bag of trash getting dumped and compacted into a garbage truck. And once I’ve cum, I promise, i will never think of you ever again.” And with that, I tip you into the half full dumpster as you let of a final muffled scream in terror. Or at least the last one I’ll ever hear. I let you get comfortable as I go and get the rest of the trash bags from the car. There’s about 11 of them, some of them heavier than others. The lighter ones with the soft trash get thrown on you first, and I make sure and drop one of the huge, black bags right on top of where your head is. Then the heavier bags dumped on top of that. I just want to get home now, but I need to finish the job. I push down on the lid, having to force the garbage down to get it closed and lock it shut. You hear the rubbish all around you crumple, creak, and groan before I flip the lockbar in place. I stop and listen, I can’t hear anything. Good. You’ll never leave that dumpster, alive at least. You hear the car start and leave. The sound disappears as it gets further away, then just like that, silence. You’re fucked. You can’t move an inch, the smell is foul and your already struggling to breathe. You start panicking as plastic sucks against your nostrils, desperately trying to control your breathing. But it’s no use, you can’t find a pocket of fresh air. The bags pushing in against your face slowly from the weight of the garbage around you and the air running out of the bag your tightly sealed inside of. You finally accept your fate, only wishing you could jerk off, but your hands are hogtied to your feet. You start to grind against a bag of trash next to you, trying to get one last bit of pleasure before its lights out, until you finally cum inside your wet, slimy bag. The orgasm is unlike any you’ve ever had, it’s so very intense. In the ecstasy of cumming, you knock a bag loose, which falls down and sinks into your face. The loose bag seems to conform around your face and envelope you, hugging you sternly as you struggle for your last gasp beneath a thin layer of plastic. Goodbye garbage. That’s what you get.

(story continues from The Trash Wife 2: My Reward) Part 3: Discovery & Consequences My husband and I continued to play my/our garbage fetish games, with me tightly bound, naked and bagged inside several garbage bags, with the household trash tossed inside with me, coating my naked body with all its gooey goodness. I have an objectification fetish and my husband indulges me when I want to be bound and bagged, stored and put away, usually out with the rest of the garbage. He seems to like the sight of me tightly bound, bagged and ready to use for his own sexual satisfaction. ...

It would’ve been a bit too obvious to place the cell door at the end of a long hallway. Blueprints had originally called for heavy doors and extra security along the hallway - tripwires, security cameras, sensors, and more. They had been all thrown out. There was no need for such excessive force. Such measures mere enticed a breakout and added mystique. Cell Zero was hidden in plain sight. It had no label and only a simple nine-digit keypad for entry. As an alternative, an ordinary metal key would do the trick. There was no need for obscene defensive measures when the cell could’ve been mistaken for a broom closet. ...

story continued from the prologue 1: READY, SET, SQUEAK! Getting Ready - And Nervous In her scientific studies on finding if one can really overdose on orga– Ehh. The passing days had gone by like molasses flow down the tree trunk: you wait for it to happen but get bored to watch. Katja has managed, surprisingly, somewhat keep up with her exercise schedule, visiting the gym and with the spring weather advancing, even prepping up her bicycle and going out for long rides. On Friday she had an earlier scheduled meeting for a “real” job in another software house and being the responsible person she did go and try her best - resulting with the usual “don’t call us, we’ll call you.” Finding a paying job would be vital in every way but seems the financial situation isn’t what it should be. ...

Charley had only just found out about the world of latex, after a friend bought her a pair of latex leggings. Since then she had been seeing how far down the rabbit hole she could go in a week. She had been meet with a tidal wave of kinky fetish nightmares and sickeningly prevented images. She had unlocked a deep lake of hidden fantasies and desires within herself. After searching the internet for days, she found something which left her heart racing and her soul horny. On a heavy rubber and bondage forum based in the UK was an advert looking for a woman to be a long term rubber bondage prisoner. Charley had message the owner of the post saying how much she wanted to do it. She got a message back within 48 hours with a list of instruction of what to do. ...

This is the true account of what happened last Friday Friday, August the 4th, was one of the hottest day of the year. In an already warm summer, temperatures rised to a sky-high, for the Region, 38 °C. Have no idea how much is in Fahrenheit for the US around… do the math by yourself… But there was this urge in him. The need of rubber and selfbondage. So, he loaded his car with a big bag full of his rubber gear and implements of pain. And he drove some 50 km on the highway, until he reached a rest and tank station where some restrooms would offer some space to change into his latex. ...

Simple things can trigger happy memories. For Erica, it was the sound of a key in a lock, until now. Glancing around, she flexed muscles that hadn’t been used in probably too long, thinking about how that simple joy had changed. “I love that sound.” His face sporting a puzzled look, Jacob watched as the deputy opened the cell door. “And why,” he asked, “is that?” “You’d think I’m strange if I told you,” Erica replied, stepping slowly from the cell where she’d just spent the weekend. ...

Simple things can trigger happy memories, for me it’s the sound of a key in a lock, until now. Once, the rattle of keys in the many locks of the heavy front door found me capering about my room in anticipation. Keys in the front door meant my Elizabeth had returned from her labors. Keys in the front door meant keys would soon unlock the chain wrapped chest in my room, allowing us both to access the ropes and straps and other objects within to stimulate senses and desire. ...

story continued from part five Part 6 For me, it all started off as just another routine Friday evening. The cellar of Ann-Marie’s house had, over the past couple of years, become quite a familiar haunt of mine. In fact, you could almost call it my second home – at least on most weekends. I knew every square inch of the walls, ceiling, floor, the wooden door and almost every storage box and discarded piece of furniture and other junk that lay scattered about the small, untidy windowless space. Not that I could always see this disorganised clutter, the plain, unpainted plaster that adorned all four sides of this underground chamber, or the bare concrete floor. In fact, I would have to say that most of the time – for me at least – the room was shrouded in darkness. There were two reasons why this could be the case. Either the overhead light was switched off, or else I was blindfolded or hooded… sometimes both. ...

(story continues from Long Time Bound 5) Part 6 For me, it all started off as just another routine Friday evening. The cellar of Ann-Marie’s house had, over the past couple of years, become quite a familiar haunt of mine. In fact, you could almost call it my second home – at least on most weekends. I knew every square inch of the walls, ceiling, floor, the wooden door and almost every storage box and discarded piece of furniture and other junk that lay scattered about the small, untidy windowless space. Not that I could always see this disorganised clutter, the plain, unpainted plaster that adorned all four sides of this underground chamber, or the bare concrete floor. In fact, I would have to say that most of the time – for me at least – the room was shrouded in darkness. There were two reasons why this could be the case. Either the overhead light was switched off, or else I was blindfolded or hooded… sometimes both. ...

It seems to happen roughly once a year. My wife goes off to visit family at the other end of the country and I don’t go, because I’ve already been up once this year and also we are going on holiday soon, so I couldn’t get the extra time off. This time she shipped off up North by plane and took our 8 month old daughter with her. I’ve been relishing the time at home alone, but when the reality struck, it was clear just how much I rely on her to prop me up because the void and freedom was overwhelming. ...

One summer night not too long ago, I endulged myself in a self bondage session in my back yard. As I do this very often, I was very experienced and had become over confident in my kinky habit. Normally I would plan my session and test that everything goes to plan, hopefully, and then proceed to actually lock myself into my predicament. You should know, every story I post on here is 100% true unless stated otherwise. This is one of those true stories I have to tell that I almost didn’t get to tell. ...

Simple things can trigger happy memories, for Jill, it’s the sound of a key in a lock, until now. It was like the click of a fountain pen, it sounded so small and soft. The click reminded her of the first time May locked her in handcuffs. What followed was a night of submission, pain, and pleasure. From that night forward May’s sadistic relationship with Jill would continue to escalate until now when the sound of a key in a lock triggered excitement and terror in Jill’s heart. ...