Bandage on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Den Mothers Merit Badges

Thu, 20 Jan 2022 00:00:00 +0000

Every summer, mothers of local Gopher Scouts volunteer to serve as senior advisors at an all boys camp. For the last three years, these three housewives have stayed together in a separate cabin that has become known in the camp as “MILF Mansion” of “Playtime Pussy Palace”. It is common knowledge these fine ladies only come to the camp to get away from their husbands or party for a week. They have become the featured entertainment in the evenings with the senior male counselors. Wild nights and wild sex have become an annual event for the three suburban soccer moms.

Living Halloween Bondage Mummy for Trick or Treaters

Thu, 25 Oct 2018 00:00:00 +0000

I had never been so filled with anticipation for Halloween night as this one. For tonight I would actually be part of my girlfriend’s decoration for the trick-or-treaters, her hanging mummy playing out a fantasy being on display in skintight clothing and bondage. And how lucky I was to have a girlfriend who was so willing to help me experience this out at least this once. It would not be the first time she would put me in this form of constraint. We had played it out and experimented numerous times. But as she began decorating her porch for the night of trick-or-treaters with black light and glowing figures, I asked her what she thought of how the white bandages of a hanging mummy would glow and maybe even frighten a few of the older guests by unexpected movement. So with a little rigging of a hook to support my weight safely and the acquisition of plenty of white roller gauze for bandages added to the rest of our toys, we were ready.

Melanie's Mystery

Sat, 14 Jul 2012 00:00:00 +0000

Melanie Richards was a serious student… of bondage stories. Spending hours evey month reading on-line tales of damsels-in-distress, girls getting themselves into trouble and she’d always wished for something to actually happen to her, rather than just reading made-up tales. A talented artist Melanie had started producing sketches from the stories she’d read and her boyfriend William, who worked as a self-employed craftsman treasured each one. Getting rock hard seeing images of women tied up and helpless. Though he and Mel did this for real he never felt brave enough to really make her bondage inescapable, not wanting her to get hurt or marked from cords and ropes. So when Melanie showed him a story of Melissa on Gromets site, being trapped inside her statue it was something that he thought could be made possible. Getting hold of wood wasn’t a problem. His father had been pleading with him to take down an old oak tree from the garden for at least a year now. The fact it was so huge had been the problem, mainly because of the cost. No way could an amateur and a few mates have attempted the task. The trunk must have been at least three feet in diameter and going up thirty feet before it started to split into different branches, the tree itself reached over a hundred feet high and was an impressive sight. A smallish win on the lottery had finally enabled Bill, as he preferred to be called to get it brought down in stages. But the crucial thing was that main trunk. Now cut into seven feet lengths and Melanie, having seen them one afternoon had quietly asked if Bill could make a statue, ‘like the one in Melissa’s story’ out of one. Young Mr Kane had grinned and agreed, getting Trevor, his mate to transport two of the lengths to the workshop attached to their home. He actually said to his buddies they’d probably end up as firewood for dad’s woodburner but for the moment he’d do his best and duly started work. Firstly slicing each from top to bottom then gradually hollowing the halves out. This meant Melanie had to be ‘acurately’ measured and an enjoyable day was spent as he wrote things down like ‘nipple to…’ ‘neck diameter’ and suchlike. She’d done a couple of sketches to show what was required and Bill used a lot of his free time out there doing her bidding. He actually made two, one exact like Melissa’s with the arms by the side, but the second had been his idea, with the limbs crossed behind the back. Each had been completed from inside and Melanie had spent a few minutes closed up in each, though sadly there hadn’t been any dildo or gag to finish the effect off. She didn’t complain as he’d worked so hard on these for her benefit, all he’d had to do now was carve the actual figure from the outside. While waiting for him to do the carving Melanie set up a page on Wiki, devoted to ‘The Goddess Bondeeja’ A totally fake site with sketches she’d done of the statues Bill was making and tales of who ‘Bondeeja’ was. It was a bit of micky-taking of Egyptian heritage and history. The country relied on it for tourism but she thought it unlikely anybody would take her page seriously. As Wiki’s reputation for accuracy was the butt of much humour the pair had thought little about it. They were however quite surprised at how many visits their page had. Melanie hadn’t wanted any comment left so didn’t include a ‘contact us’ link at the bottom. Weeks’ later Melanie smiled as Bill led her into his workroom after their dinner, having told the girl that her figure had been finished. The lassie delighted to see the newly polished statue in the corner as he’d promised. It looked like the second one she’d tested. Arms behind the back, rather than his first effort so she knew what was coming next. “Wow, it looks amazing” she gushed, pleased that somehow he’d made her statue hips a little narrower than they actually were. “Ready then?” he asked and she undressed, stepping out of her slinky red number, shivering in the frigid air conditioning in here, then shedding her underwear too. Coming over to see her ‘home’ for the next hour or so. After a long kiss she turned away and allowed Bill to help her into the bodysuit. This made of industrial thickness latex and despite the amount of talc used it still took a long time to get Melanie all zipped up. Her hands were eased into gloves but she was surprised when he balled her fingers up then secured them with fasteners she didn’t know about. “Cannot have you knocking to get out,” he grinned and she smiled, waving a fist in front of his face. It was pretty warm inside the suit and the lass would be glad once inside the statue. It’d been cool while testing it outside and naked, but here, in the chilled room she should be the same with the suit and bandages on. These took an age for Bill to apply and through it Melanie got more excited. At one point he had to dry her off with a towel as she’d dripped on the floor! “Should have stuck a certain something in there to block you up,” he’d chuckled, dabbing away. His sensitive touch almost made things worse. But finally she was a glorious white-wrapped mummy, only the center part of her face was visible and she asked to see herself in the mirror before he did her eyes. Bill didn’t ask why she wanted both her nose and mouth left free. Normally he’d insist she be gagged but didn’t want to spoil this today, though he had read the story to see what had got her going, so made a couple of extras to surprise her. Bill came up with the last of the bandages, kissing Melanie before placing two pads over her slightly scared eyes, blocking her ears with plugs then wrapping her head under several layers like the rest of her body. She could barely move her jaw to accept a drink and Miss Richards hoped she’d be fine. Taking Melanie’s arms he guided her back, easing her into the statue, watching as she positioned both arms behind her with some difficulty into the slots. Sighing as her shoulders rubbed the top then slid underneath and she was in. Mel didn’t say how tight it actually was with the thickness of the suit and four layers of wrapping over the top. She thought it’d be amazing if Bill could get the front bit shut! “Yes, that’s great, you can love” she said to the nose tapped question, ‘was she ok for him to close it up’, smiling happily as they had another session with tongues. Another tap on her breasts and moments later a now shuddering Melanie felt the air flow change and the smell of polished wood getting stronger as the front came round. She gasped as the pressure suddenly arrived, forcing her breasts back into her body, the front bit for her face now gripping tight, even the wooden bits that held her legs apart were the same. In the story the gag would appear at any moment… so she squealed loudly when one slowly drove itself in over her eager tongue. ‘Next’s gonna be a…’ Melanie grunted as a huge dildo arrived, sliding gently into her thankfully wet zone and filling the lass totally. They both stopped at the same time and Mel was thrilled that he had added the extras, but slightly stunned at how tight this was. The thickness of the latex suit and bindings meant she was actually larger now than when testing it earlier. ‘Like I’ve put on weight’ she moaned into the gag. Two thumps on the sides made her jump and Melanie realised he’d finally got the latches across as the pressure increased slightly again. Not knowing how much difficulty it’d been for Bill to do it. He’d pushed those two protusions into the statue at face and lower areas and it made him grin. “No wonder she squealed! The minx.” Another bang, right on the carved nose was the signal that she was completed and he wheeled the statue into the corner, set the angled lighting on it and snapped a few photos for the collection. No way would any of their friends believe that the figure was actually occupied by a stunning brunette, helplessly mummified, wearing a thick latex suit below that and plugged in all bar one of her holes. Melanie was definitely a virgin at the rear and he’d respected her wish to remain so. Having shot the photos for the Wiki page he went off for a drink then returned, sitting in the armchair and watching his girl. Trying to see and hear if she was close to orgasm. She was actually unconscious, having an earth-moving series before he’d come back from the kitchen having cleaned and done the washing-up. Bill’s eyes drooped and he set his alarm for another half-hour, she wouldn’t mind two hours rather than what had been agreed! Dimming the lights and he was dozing very shortly. Coming to with the buzzing of the clock Bill grumbled at the headache thundering through his brain. He’d only had two drinks and surely it shouldn’t be that bad. It was eight PM and would take at least an hour to strip Melanie’s bindings off so he’d best get started. Arriving at the statue he reached for the side catches… and stopped. They were not there! Bill Kane frowned, then checked the other side in case he’d… but nothing there either. Just two wood blocks shaped exactly like the catches, but wrapping his fingers round each one soon proved fruitless. A close look and he could see the carve marks deep into the wood and knew that somehow there was a serious problem here. Getting a torch from the drawer he shone the beam up the nostrils, expecting to see Melanie’s nose… but it appeared to be empty. A shaking boyfriend grabbed a blunt screwdriver and inserted it. Slowly sliding it well beyond the normal length of the human nasal passages, then wiggled it about. “Oh my goodness!” he said, now slowly comprehending the impossible… Melanie had vanished.

The Workaholic

Fri, 08 Jun 2012 00:00:00 +0000

Dark ebony skin, just under six feet tall, 34-26-36, and very sweet smile Taquisha doesn’t know the word relax. An entrepreneur she’s worked everyday for the past two years trying to get her boutique off the ground. Even with it up in running, she runs the show from before dawn to closing time. It’s gotten to the point that her social life is nothing but text messages to her friends throughout the day. That’s probably how I got her as my next assignment. They call me Wraps, I work under the Mummification Division of what some like to call “The Network”. See, we’re this organization of individuals that take up cases of those that need to be bound for awhile and add in a little bit of a distraction if you know what I mean. I flip over her info card that got sent to me. Looks like of the last ditch effort of her friends to get her back. So here she is, case number 679, The Workaholic.

Heaven and Hell

Sun, 29 Apr 2012 00:00:00 +0000

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.

Island of Rebirth

Sun, 29 Apr 2012 00:00:00 +0000

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.

June’s Self Bondage Mistake 8

Fri, 07 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000

continued from part 7

Part Eight

June asked Darcy to get undressed while she retrieved the first part of her mummification, the black Coflex bandages. June brought both boxes with her and set them on the couch next to Darcy.

“I see you are ready!” June said with mirth in her voice, “I’ll wrap your legs first.”

Opening one of the boxes of bandages, June pulled the first roll out, peeled the plastic off, found the starting edge, and pulled about 3 feet off the roll.

The Helpless Mummy

Mon, 08 Aug 2011 00:00:00 +0000

First off I am an 18 year old male and am a small size for my age, my name is Tom. I live with my mom and two sisters. One sister (Sarah) is 22 and the other (Ashlee) is 16. Since my dad died at an early age so it is just us 4, and we are a pretty close family. Every Halloween we have a tradition where we stay in and have a small party, with just family. The big fun of it is to surprise each other with what our costumes are at the party.

The Medic Class 3: The Final Exam

Fri, 04 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000

continued from part 2

Part 3: The Final Exam

Another Saturday arrived, and I anxiously looked forward to another session with my two erotic instructors. When I arrived at Carol’s house, I was surprised to be met at the door by Wendy. She was an absolute knock out with a white tank top that accentuated her massive boobs and opened a wide valley of cleavage. Her tight Daisy Dukes only heightened my desire to have her in bondage.

The Medic Class 1: Basic Training

Tue, 11 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1: Basic Training

The Saturday EMT class started as a regular session. The instructor, Carol and her assistant Wendy, had gathered all the items for the practical training that was to take place for the next several hours. The session would be primarily to practice the various types of splinting and spinal immobilization. Pretty routine stuff, splints, backboards and some role gauze would be the primary tools of the trade. I was selected the victim, excuse me, patient, to practice the Hare Traction Splint. This medieval looking device is used to maintain traction on a serious leg fracture of the femur. Generally, used only a few times a year, refresher training on this device is crucial to proper use. After measuring the length of the splint to match the leg, the metal frame splint is pushed firmly under the buttocks with a “pubic strap” fitting securely around the leg. The term “pubic strap” should give a hint of the location of this uncomfortable webbing. The narrow strap rises to the crotch area and across the top of the leg to secure the splint in place. The strap can also be misplaced and cause great discomfort. Our instructor, Carol, wanted to make sure the strap was correctly placed for both comfort and safety. She got on her knees beside me and placed her fingers below the strap. But as she did, a special maneuver to clandestinely stroke my penis caught me by surprise. With a gleam in her eye and devious smirk, she knew I was very ready for a personal training session. I tried not to display my hardened manhood from the rest of the class by leaning up to loosen the strap. But, Carol insisted I remain in a prone position until she completed the rest of the practical session. Little did I realize that while I was being used as a patient for splinting, her well endowed assistant Wendy had volunteered to be the patient to demonstrate the use of a full back board. A backboard is used to fully immobilize the neck and back, especially after an auto accident, to prevent any movement. Thus, the patient must be tightly secured. Lying flat on the board, Wendy was tightly secured by use of several straps placed in multi-X shapes across her body. The straps ran from her shoulders across the chest between the mammoth mounds and tightened along the side. This placement of the top straps only served to accentuate the already obvious size of her breasts. The sight of her bound to the board with her boobs rising to the ceiling only served to heighten the blood flow to my manhood. But to excite me even more, Carol directed the class to pick up the back board holding Wendy and turn it upside down, directly over top of me! She then proceeded to have the class shake the board to assure Wendy was strapped securely. The vision of her massive breasts hanging directly over me, wobbling like jell-o molds, nearly caused me to explode my load. Her nipples were outlined like the two bullets and directed right at me. As she levitated over me, she began to smile and moisten her lips, as if to tease my harden state. As Wendy was being lowered on the other side of the room, Carol leaned over and whispered, “Wendy and I have a practical training session at my house this Saturday. We would love to have you come over and participate in extending your knowledge of the various uses of the medical equipment and supplies we use in class.” A personal training session, this certainly sounded inviting. How could I refuse? As I rang the doorbell at Carol’s house, I was definitely curious about the type of personal training Carol would provide. She welcomed me into the living room of the classic Victorian home with a pleasant purr. “We are so glad you decided to come and join us.” But, Wendy was nowhere to be seen. “Let’s go downstairs and concentrate on your bandaging skills.” As we slowly walked down the stairs, my heart stopped, and penis hardened. There was Wendy taped head to toe in 3” medical tape .She stood like a white plaster statue with two cream orbs jutting for light. Her legs solidly taped together fully enclosing her body all the way to her chest. There, tape was circled around each breast, forcing her bare boobs to project out like gun barrels off a battleship deck. Her erect nipples were held in place by small butterfly bandage strips circling around each hard Good and Plenty snack morsel. The tape over her lips forced her cheeks to bulge, leaving me to wonder how much packing was inside her mouth. Her eyes were covered by individual pads that were tightly taped in place with double wrapped tape. She was denied the right to even hear as safety ear plugs used protect the ear drums from loud sirens were in place and secured with an abundance of the tape that extended from her eyes. Carol grinned as she turned to me. “You need to be as adept at removing bandages as placing them on your patient. But, there is a specific order that the tape needs to be removed to provide the most comfort and pleasure for both the patient and the caregiver.” This molded masterpiece of femininity was truly a thing of beauty. Why would I even consider removing the tape and ruining such a marvelously erotic sight? It was like looking at a beautiful new car in an automobile show room. You just want to stare and admire. But, after the initial beauty is absorbed, you want to open the door and get in. It was time to start opening doors. “Your first assignment is to remove the small butterfly tapes from each nipple”, commanded Carol. These small tapes were around each nipple and needed to be removed gently. As I slowly peeled off each strip, I lowered my lips around the nipple and sucked and moistened the knob. Sensuous muffled moans of pleasure began to be heard from behind the mounds of packing and tape. Wendy was beginning to really enjoy this experience. The next assignment was to remove the larger tape that orbited the bottom of each breast. As I slowly turned and twisted the tape off the skin, a pink ring developed around the base of each mound outlining the placement of the tape. After the tape was removed from each breast, I took my tongue and licked each breast in a slow and passionate motion. Taking her orbs into my hands, I began to message each mound, gently squeezing so the nipples peaked at my mouth. I increased the sucking until I was able to absorb nearly half of the marshmallow fluffs into my mouth. By now, Wendy’s moans and groans were becoming louder and more frequent. She was trying desperately to make sexual motions but the prison of tape held her almost motionless. “Michael, you are an excellent student, but now you must remove the tape below her breasts to the top of her knees.” Though this sounded easy, but exactly where should I begin and how much tape should be removed at one time? I elected to begin just under each breast, slowly unwinding the tape as I moved around her encased body. I was reliving Christmas morning slowly opening the package as not to damage the treasure inside. But instead of just tape, I was actually removing tape over another cloth or bandage. Now, I understood what was done and why. All of this tape directly on the body would be extremely uncomfortable and irritating to the skin. Wide Kling bandages were applied first to help keep the tape from reddening and pulling the skin. But as I continued to below the navel I began to encounter a large soft, pillow like cover. “There is a large padded trauma dressing over her crotch.” purred Carol. Even with the Kling bandaging below the tape, Carol did not want to take a chance of the tape pulling out pubic hair. “Pain can be pleasure” explained Carol, “but I do not want pain to ruin pleasure, and there is so much pleasure below the padding.” After I removed the tape and bandaging from the padding, Wendy began to subtly moan as her vagina was again exposed. “Stop for just a minute” called Carol. I was soon to realize Carol did not want any pain to ruin Wendy’s pleasure. Carol reached down and slowly inserted two fingers into the lips of the void. With a gently twisting motion, she began to message Wendy’s G-spot, causing the moistening of the inner sanctum. Wendy’s knees began to bend and hips started to rotate as she tried to force even further entrance into her canal. “Not too much pleasure too soon,’ Carol said as she removed her fingers. As Carol stood up, I continued to remove the rest of the tape and bandaging all the way to Wendy’s toes. As I looked towards Carol, she shook her head in approval for me to remove the tape from her upper torso. I stood up to remove the remaining seal from her chest to her shoulders. “That’s far enough” commanded Carol. “Leave the head totally covered, no sight, no sound, no hearing.” This perplexing command was followed by an order to help Wendy to begin to walk to another room. As Carol opened the door to our left, I was amazed at the sight of various types of bondage gear hanging from the walls and ceiling. A large poster bed with leather straps on all four corners was centered in the room. As I guided Wendy into the room, Carol directed me to have her lay on the bed. Carol instructed me to anchor her legs into the leather shackles on the lower bed posts as she attached the leather bonds to Wendy’s arms at the top. “Now, we all can really enjoy adventure.” With that gleeful announcement, Carol climbed on to the bed and lowered her face into the moistened cavern of Wendy’s pleasure. As Carol tactfully employed her tongue deep inside the pelvis, Wendy shrieked and thrashed about, not to get free, but as an explosion of sexual pleasure. Carol rose up and eased back off the bed. “Wendy now expects a cold, hard plastic dildo to enter her pussy” Carol explained. “That is why I sealed her mouth, eyes and ears to give her a totally unexpected surprise. She has no idea you are here, and certainly would not expect a penis to enter.” With that simple entrée, I stripped and slowly climbed on to the bed. I was so excited I was praying I would not ejaculate before I even entered. As I slowly lowered myself, Wendy tried to raise her hips to allow an even quicker entry. When the tip end of my hard, hot cock entered her body, a loud squeal, followed by a deep moan could be heard from beneath the packing and tape over her mouth. My rhythmic motions reached steam engine proportions as I slammed forward and erupted inside her. The loud groans were accompanied by shivering, shaking and tremors as Wendy and I both experienced monumental orgasms. Her breasts slapped back and forth, swinging sweat beads into the air. I finally reached my limit and fell onto her massive chest, pinching and kissing her nipples as I dropped. “Well Michael, how did you enjoy this personal lesson in bandaging?” laughed Carol. I had to admit, this instruction certainly helped a positive attitude in student/teacher relationship. “If you so desire, we can plan another session that could involve a more personal practical experience” she commented as she climbed back on the bed. “Now everyone has had a most pleasurable experience but me,” she said, “but now, it’s my turn.” As Carol removed the tape off of Wendy’s mouth, and the wad of packing was removed, it became obvious Carol was about to receive her pleasure from Wendy’s tongue. As Carol’s legs surrounded Wendy’s cheeks, she looked around to me with a satanic smile. “Time for you to leave, Michael. Some things are very personal.”

Darkest Desires

Wed, 21 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000

Times were bad and she really needed the money. Amy told herself this again and again. Amy stood in a brightly lit room, her arms holding a tray before her where drinks were available for the guests her posture perfect. The truth was she had no choice she was bound tightly in place. Two holes allowed her to see and a tube from her nose made it possible for her to breathe. Tonight she was a living mummy, on display for a group of jaded party goers.

The Last Day

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 00:00:00 +0000

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.

Underview Resort

Sun, 10 Feb 2008 00:00:00 +0000

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.

In Sleep

Wed, 07 Nov 2007 00:00:00 +0000

I love watching you sleep.

Lying in the bed, watching you as you rest, your body still, chest rising and falling in that slow, steady beat. It’s intoxicating to watch, just something I adore. Of course, I already adore you as you are. The perfect mate… cooperative, calm, even tempered, gets along well, loving, all while asking for nothing in return. Your life is dedicated to me.

That’s why I make sure your bedtimes are extra sweet.

Halloween Mummy

Sat, 25 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

“Will you marry me?” “Perhaps. But you haven’t met my mother yet, and I want to see what she says before I decide,” replied Destiny. “You need your mother’s approval?” asked Daniel in surprise. “No I don’t need it, but I want it,”. “When can we see her?” “All in good time.” She kissed him then continued, “We aren’t in any hurry are we?”

“No, I suppose not, but I love you and want to marry you.” “Well I love you too, and I’ll consider your proposal to be an open invitation. By the way do you want to go trick or treating on Halloween?” “Aren’t we a bit too old?” “Perhaps, but if we dress up we can pretend we’re teenagers again.” “Well, I’d rather spend the evening making love to you.” “I’ve been thinking.” “Yes?” said Daniel suspiciously. “You know how you love to be bandaged up as a mummy? I could dress you as a walking mummy and lead you around.” “That doesn’t sound right. One of the things I like about being a mummy is the feeling of utter helplessness.” “Oh I could make you completely helpless, believe me. Do you want to try it?” “Well…” “I think it would be sexy, being a helpless mummy in public.” “OK, I’ll try it.” “Good. I’m sure you’ll find it exciting. But you have to do everything I tell you. Promise?” “I promise.” “Good. No backing out now. I won’t marry a man who breaks his promises. Now put those handcuffs on and make love to me, I feel very sexy.”

Four Months

Fri, 13 May 2005 00:00:00 +0000

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.

The Curse of Anubis

Fri, 18 Mar 2005 00:00:00 +0000

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.

The Meeting

Tue, 01 Feb 2005 00:00:00 +0000

She contacted him one evening on the Internet. She wanted to tell him how much she had enjoyed his stories and that she found them very arousing. They ended up chatting about mummification and kidnapping for hours. She was a novice with limited experience in bondage, never having been mummified. She was obviously very nervous, but also very excited about being mummified. It was this excitement and enthusiasm about a new experience that had drawn him to her.

The Break In 3

Thu, 06 Mar 2003 00:00:00 +0000

continued from part two

Part 3: Captives

Through some very adept investigative work, Suzanne’s friends have discovered that she made it to the Smith house and gotten inside. They are certain that something happened to her, while there. Rachel under the guise of a job as an Interior Decorator had gained employment there, also and more importantly, the Smith’s confidence. She found the proof she needed and had confronted the Smith’s. Rachel had arranged an exchange between them using the evidence she had, to trade for “something valuable”. A few surprises may await her.

A New Goddess Is Born

Mon, 04 Nov 2002 00:00:00 +0000

This is a true short story about one of Gromet’s readers, Gwendolyn a young lady who had ventured into Gromet’s kingdom of mummification, and having read of others exploits decided this is what she wanted to try it for herself.

My dear cyber friend Gwendolyn had asked me for information on being mummified, of which I was glad to supply. It was to be her first time and like most first timers she was a little apprehensive but wanted to try it. Her helper in the venture was a long standing male friend, I had insisted to her that if she was to try mummification it must be with a well trusted friend as mummification could be turned into the supreme sacrifice so easily if you pick the wrong partner.

Why do we do It

Sun, 18 Aug 2002 00:00:00 +0000

This is not so much a story as a analyzes of why we allow ourselves to be mummified and is there any risk out there especially when dealing with the dastardly male.

Have you ever wondered how you ever got interested in such a subject as mummification? The subject is gruesome it could be your final quest if you have the wrong guy wrapping you, Yet it seems to have a funny sort of fatal attraction and deep down I do not know why, when with friends one cannot say, “Oh my hobby is being mummified” we would be frowned upon, perhaps even our jobs and existence put at risk, and talking of risk are we putting ourselves in risk.

The Break-In

Sun, 22 Jul 2001 00:00:00 +0000

Suzanne crept up to the patio door at the back of the house. She’d been casing this house for a month now. It was perfect. This was the owner’s day to go out on an all day shopping spree. They never returned until 5 or 6 PM in the evening. She was sure that she had waited long enough (it had been an hour). The nearest house could be seen thru the trees, about a quarter of a mile away.

A Matter of Stamina