Burial

story continued from part 5 Part 6 Emma Cline somehow managed not to scream on finding out her man had escaped. Getting Fatima to swap places before they were buried alive. “But I don’t understand. Surely you know what’s happening to us. We’re NEVER going to be freed!” she wept, her brain too scrambled to take it in. Fatima waited patiently until Emma stopped sobbing. Not yet able to tell her companion that she was ‘only’ restrained at feet, waist and neck. Her wrists were still free though she’d been instructed how to secure those if the air got stuffy. It’d taken Rashid only a few minutes to convince his wife to take part and why. Fatima was a broad- minded character and as she knew they’d be released sometime tomorrow went along with it. So now all she had to do was break the news to a very distressed Mrs Cline. Emma squealed when the hands reached across. “Are you not restrained then?” she gasped. Telling the woman how she was secured. Fatima agreed, Em sensing her smiling and she was puzzled. Finally it emerged that Mrs Feroz was rather turned on by this idea. “I might be older than you my dear but I still have feelings in ‘that’ department, OK?” Now Emma did start to smile but it still didn’t alter the fact they were here for good… weren’t they. Tentatively she asked… “No dear. We’re not. All we had to do was for Judge Kasim to witness you being buried. I offered to take Mr Tony’s place, because Rashid said he was worth more alive…” Emma gasping at that but Fatima ploughed on. “Well he’s right. Not that Rashie doesn’t love me, we’ve been together almost as long as you’ve been alive, you’re what, late twenties?” Emma blushing at that as she was actually thirty, next month, if she made it out of here. Fatima now revealed the true nature of the plan… if they survived. “Which I’m sure we will. You made it ten hours in a single casket; there are two of us in a double. There is something happening at this place that kept you alive when you should have perished. Rashid and Tony want to find out what that is, understand?” “OK, I guess we will. The air seems fine so far. But do you have the veils and all that?” she asked. Fatima replying yes. “I’m even wearing one of the robes. They are nice. Rashie likes it when we’re…” she paused and Emma sensed her fellow captive blushing now! Hands coming over and stroking Emma’s torso, then the girl squealed as she felt the collar suddenly undo, dropping her head. “Oh wow. Can you free my arms, but I thought these didn’t have release levers anyway, and were permanent. “Not a chance. The Judge wasn’t briefed on this; Rashie had these loops made at the museum. There are tiny buttons underneath the loops at the back. I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you before. Kasim had to see you really distressed, he saw you at the pillar too. Assuming it was to be for all time. Tony said you’d not be able to hide your feelings if you’d known.” Emma relaxed for the first time admitting it was true. Still put out that nobody had confided in her about the plan. Fatima sensed this and gently rubbed her torso again, even lifting Emma’s veils, as the wetness was really irritating. “Don’t suppose you’ll do my arms… please?” but she refused. “Besides you seemed to enjoy being restrained, I’m not so sure but I think it’s better if you stay like that.” Mrs Cline sighed in surrender. Asking Fatima to scratch her nose as it was itching. She complied and that was SO much better. They chatted on and seemingly hours later finally stopped. Emma starting to get tired… sleepy even and she suddenly realised it was a little warmer now. The air… “Fatima. Can you secure me again,” she asked, startling Mrs Feroz as she was already asleep. The woman was talked through how to do the now dry veils and the collar was clicked closed. Then she did her own, trembling slightly as she reached down afterwards, placed wrists into the loops and flicked. ‘Click…click…’ Then they both jumped minutes later when all the restraints tightened again. “Oh my God…” Emma murmured, hearing Fatima gasp. That shouldn’t have been possible with these according to Rashid but now… Silence was total now; both women trying to ‘hold’ their breath but gradually Emma realised it was getting cooler and fresher again. Fatima sighed when she heard that. “See love, my Rashie was right. There is definitely something else here that’s helping, yet always waiting to punish if we step too far. This will be your task in the years to come.” The couple waited now. In and out of sleep and it was Fatima who heard the banging from above. A nervous Rashid Feroz hammered into the welds covering the casket lid. Tony hardly daring to believe the couple below them was alive after twenty-four hours. Judge Kasim had signed all the paperwork thus absolving the pair if Emma and Fatima didn’t make it. Now they were about to find out. Taking an age to lift the sarcophagus out once the cover had been removed. Seeing no gap at all where the joins should have been. Tony grabbed a hammer and was about to start smashing the thing apart when Feroz stopped him. “Other side Tony, the hinges have changed sides…see?” He stared and gradually the joins could be seen after all. A sigh of relief and he jammed the crowbar into the tiny gap where the discs had been. Turning each slot and hearing the thunk as the casket unlocked. The fourth was done and they prayed before tugging the halves apart… “Took your time didn’t you love…” was all Tony heard before grabbing Rashid for a hug. The couple seemingly alive as Fatima’s quiet crying joining her companion in tears of relief. The men released their partners, really having to squeeze the buttons hard to get the bands to unlock. Both women could barely walk as they stepped out. Emma kicking her shoes off straight away, even before lifting her veils away. They turned to their men and everyone embraced. A big huddle of humanity and nobody said a word for ages. “So that’s it then. We’re really free now of this?” Emma said once they were back in one of the other buildings. Still in her robe, Fatima the same and Tony saw his wife gently stroking her body and it made him grin. The suit made for his own intended burial was upstairs in what would now be their permanent quarters as Rashid had explained what they’d be doing, assuming Emma survived. “Yes. Judge Kasim has agreed that sentence was carried out in accordance with the law and he didn’t want to know any more about it’s aftermath… though he’s quietly convinced you’d make it. The police have been told the same so your case is closed. Now you really are free folks. But…” and Emma’s eyes rolled. There’s always a but. However in this case it was a good one and Tony took over. Telling his beloved that their job from now on was to completely explore Neen from start to finish. There was no time limit. This was their new home now. Rashid would supply food and stuff from Cairo once a week. Power wasn’t a problem as he showed Mrs Cline the solar systems that had been installed long ago. “Very well. We accept. But I’m hungry, any chance of dinner now?” she asked and they all laughed. So they started all over again. This time mapping each room on a chart and accurately measuring each. Amazed at how big the site really was as every disc turned led into another room. All on the same level, some with hieroglyphics but most without. They found a few artifacts and Rashid was delighted at their progress on his visits. Emma soon over her traumatic time and she forgave Tony for what he’d done. “You’d have used the air quicker than Fatima did eh?” poking him in the ribs and earning herself a cuddle. Never asking again to be placed in a casket. She also began to change as they’d progressed deeper into the dig. Firstly using that lightest of the collars found in the storeroom. By the end of the first month however Emma was wearing ‘a full set’ wrist and ankle cuffs, a belt and that last band around her neck. These had no loops so were assumed to be jewellery and Tony didn’t mind. Seeing and hearing her click each one every morning before they went to work. Only taking them off on exiting the dig. They only worked daytime hours too, even though once underground it was by torches and the solar power lights. Evenings were spent normally in their quarters, playing cards, Tony teaching Em about chess too. Progress was steady and there was a landmark event three months in when they found a room with several holes to one side. Going DOWN at a 25degree angle with a curve about fifty feet along stopping them seeing where it ended up. Only about the size of a casket but it was where that made them get excited. “Perhaps this place has a lower level honey,” Emma said looking down there. The only problem was that in each hole, about ten feet from the start was what looked like a nipple hanging from the roof and blocking partway. “Trust you to think of that…” she said acidly but smiling all the same as hers received some loving attention. What was down there? A stone was thrown down the first and they listened as it clattered round the bend, faintly banging on the surface before a hollow ‘boom’ came echoing up. Another bigger one followed with the same noise and now the couple was really excited. “There’s got to be a chamber down there love. It doesn’t just stop as if it hit a wall.” Tony fetched a rope and Emma begged to be allowed to go first. “Your fat ass wouldn’t get past the ‘nipple’ as you so lovingly call it!” she remarked and he reluctantly agreed. Making sure Emma did the knots firmly. In fact it was more like a harness under her arms. If she got stuck all Tony had to do was drag her up. Soon she was ready and nervously Emma clambered into the hole. Easing herself down and beginning to wriggle. Having to stop and shine the torch down as she approached the obstruction. It really was a squeeze to get past it. Emma examining it closely but a tap on the side and it wobbled alarmingly. “It’s not stone. More like a rubber…” and she tried not to laugh, as did he. Safely passed it and down Emma slid. Stopping every few feet as the abrasions on her skin made it itch. Back to work and Tony watched in amazement as she finally reached the shallow curve and go out of view. Stopping to shine her torch and… “Bloody hell love, it goes way out of sight… and gets steeper” he heard her say, Emma seeing more of those nipples in a line. She didn’t know how long Tony’s rope was but she carried on until reaching the first. The slope was really getting to her now and also Emma was tired. Knowing she’d have to clamber up as Tony dragging on the rope would make it worse. Idly thinking about that she felt the nipple brush against her ass… and break off! Emma squealed as a torrent of sand flowed out of the hole, rushing down and covering her legs in seconds. The view beyond vanishing as it kept coming out with no sign of stopping. Tony Cline froze hearing her make that noise. The rope slackening for a moment and he was terrified she’d fallen or come loose. Sighing moments later as she came back round the corner and his eyes blurred with tears. Emma called up, telling him just to draw the rope slowly. “Don’t tug, and make sure you do not hit that thing!” Ten tense minutes later they were together and she held on for a long while. Emma still trembled as she dusted herself down. Tony noticing how carefully she’d crept passed the nipple. “That honey, was bloody close…” she said once able to speak. Tony noticing she’d insisted on coming outside rather than remaining in the dig. Only now did Emma reveal what she’d seen and done down there. “Whatever goes down that hole… stays there.” Taking him back to the scene after lunch and grabbing some stones on the way. “Right, see if you can hit the nipple with one of these…” she said. Tony grinned. “Well, it’s better than chucking them at your head sweetheart. See if I’ve still got the ability,” and she chuckled wryly. Accepting a kiss and his apology. Two shots missed and they heard silence once the stones went into the sand she knew was there. On the third however he struck it halfway up and the guy was amazed. It instantly broke off at the roof and more sand came pouring out, filling the space up to the top. “Yep, that’s what happened round the corner. These passages were designed to be used once. I assume the idea was that a casket is slid down and it vanishes…well into the next life. Sounds daft but I’m convinced there’s only a certain amount that Neen wants us to find.” That night he was very gentle with her. Emma trembling at her close escape and he held tight as she wept. Next day he was surprised when after breakfast she announced that it was time for work. Seeing she was still dressed in the ‘robe’ worn every night since coming back. Actually looking closer today there were two of them, with underwear in place, her ‘jewellery’ now applied over the top. Maybe it was Emma’s way of adding another level of well, ‘devotion’ to this place. He didn’t argue and instead led her over to the dig and they got going. To test Emma’s theory about the caskets after a lot of effort they got one down to the room with the holes. Using the next in line. Mrs Cline trying not to damage her outfit but no way would Tony suggest she remove it now. Once in place they loaded it with stones to simulate a body then paused. “One, two, three… push!” Away it went, knocking the nipple clean off and the sand flowed as before. But they could still hear the sound as the casket went beyond their view. The faint thumps as each obstruction was reached and passed before the final ‘boooom’ came up. Now the hole vanishing as the sand reached the roof. “Two down, only three to go…” she murmured as he came close. Stroking Emma through the material of her dress, telling her he’d always love her. Em smiled and suggested they go off for lunch. Another three months passed and quite suddenly on trying another disc they were stunned to reveal an exit to the outside world! Emma having to shield her eyes as low evening sunlight flooded the room, soon seeing that it was more like a cave. Stepping close to the edge and peering out. “We’ve come right through the hill. See, there’s the road that leads to Alexandria” Tony said pointing to the faint glow of headlights on the desert floor many miles away. Emma was more disappointed. Maybe this was the end of the place. What would they do now? Rashid would probably say they could work at the museum in secret, but to her Neen-Al-Tudlobry WAS her home. Turning back and accepting a long cuddle from her man. Tony touching her belt and saying that he’d always expect her to wear these from now on. “Not a problem…” she grinned. Peering over the edge to see if there was any sign of another outlet from the supposed lower level. But the cliff was a sheer drop to the river hundreds of feet below, preventing any idea of clambering down to check. With a heavy heart she turned away and with the sun almost at the horizon suggested it was time they went for dinner. Friday was their normal ‘date’ night after a hard week’s exploring. But tonight was almost a type of commiseration at reaching the end. Rashid would be here tomorrow to resupply them, collect their latest research and any finds and until today this lot had been better than expected. Perhaps Neen had given up all its secrets, though both knew whatever was below those holes in that chamber would not be investigated… unless there was no intention of returning. So tonight once back in their ‘house’ Emma dressed to thrill in that red lacy number to cheer herself up, and not much else underneath either. A shame she’d not packed the heels that came with it. Excess baggage had been the bane of her life so the usual sneakers were applied and Tony’s hands had been all over her while preparing dinner. Now sitting there much later on he reached over to give her a cuddle, only to find Emma was trembling a little. “You all right…?” he asked and she turned to look. Her fingers now twitching. “No… sorry love but I’m not. Was fine up until about five minutes ago but…” she never finished the sentence. Leaping to her feet and rushing out, ignoring his calls as she fled into the bathroom next door. Tony paused then made to follow but the sound of his wife vomiting explosively into the toilet bowl stopped him cold. Emma emerged, ashen faced and shaking. Holding on to the doorframe. “If it’s that paella love you need to do the same…” she said. Tony however felt fine, as an iron constitution was never a problem. “If you’ve seen the crap I used to eat in the army then one Spanish meal ain’t gonna kill me.” She smiled wryly at that and went to wash her mouth out then clean the kitchen up. Coming back an hour later and flopping into the chair, taking his hand and placing it on her leg just below the skirt hem. Insinuating he ought to start thinking about undressing her. She paused, feeling his skin, sweating slightly and Emma looked at him. “Tony, please go and throw it up. I’ll make you a salt drink that should help. Go on… move,” and thankfully he agreed. Going into the bathroom but a couple of dry heaves got him nowhere. Emma arrived to see his ass waving in the air as he bent over the bowl. “Very romantic. Have this.” She grinned and handed the concoction over. Cline knocked most of it back and it worked. Spinning round and… “Ugh,” Emma chuckled, wincing in sympathy as she left him to retch. Hearing a couple of thumps minutes later she frowned, then another louder one and the door slammed. “Tony… you all right…” she called. No answer so Emma pushed the wood, only to find her husband collapsed on the floor. “Oh shit,” she swore, trying to lift him up but he weighed a ton and Em struggled. Eventually getting him rolled over onto his belly so he wouldn’t choke. Just as well because another load came pouring out. Really bad and it lasted a while. An hour later he was in bed, Em having half-dragged him there because he couldn’t manage alone. Only taking his messy shirt off because of the sick. Wrapping his torso in blankets then cradling his forehead. Feeling it very flushed and she was convinced there was something seriously wrong now. All that night Emma nursed him. Praying for the dawn to come, bringing Rashid and she hoped the guy had a First-Aid kit in the jeep. Finally her heart leapt as it arrived, soon after 8am and she rushed out, pleased to see Fatima was with him for the first time in ages. She called, waving frantically and they hurried across. “Tony’s very ill. Possible food poisoning,” she said, Mrs Feroz holding Em as she tried not to collapse. Still not feeling that good herself though thankful she’d changed into the blue maxi-dress and jacket to receive visitors. Professor Feroz hurried into their bedroom. Seeing his friend leaning up against the pillows. Eyes barely open but just able to recognise who it was. Weakly waving, then leaning over and another heave into the bowl placed for that reason. Rashid was horrified, seeing how pale he was. Tony’s normally well-tanned skin was almost white now. Coming over and taking Cline’s hand, feeling the sweating, but icy cold fingers trembling. He’d never known anyone be this sick and he didn’t think many doctors had either. “Not good buddy,” he murmured. “I feel shite… No, worse than that…” Meanwhile Fatima was questioning Emma about their meal. She wasn’t a nurse but five decades on the planet had given her a lot of experience of treating various ailments. The girl was partway through telling Mrs Feroz when Rashid appeared ten minutes later. “I’m sorry Emma… I think you’d better go and see him…” he began. The look on his face telling her it was worse than she’d originally feared. “…Before it’s too late.” The chair flew back, smashing into the cupboard as Emma rushed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Rashid sat next to his wife and they stared at each other. “I’m sorry dear Fatima. Tony is probably beyond help now… no way will a doctor…” before he broke down as did she. Emma stared blankly at her man. His eyes looking at her and she guessed as his fingers gripped tighter. “Be brave sweetheart, stay with me. I know you will. Be brave for me…” The Feroz heard Emma’s wail of agony an hour later. Fatima looking at her man, nodding before they prayed for another soul lost. Mrs Feroz getting to her feet and heading for the bedroom where she could hear the cries of anguish. Opening the door to see Em slumped across the bed, her hands wrapped round Tony’s, her body shaking. She jumped a mile when Fatima touched her arm. Turning round and Mrs Feroz saw her face. “Why honey, why now…” she wept but there could be no answer to that. She carefully lifted Emma’s hands away. Making sure Tony’s didn’t just flop down as she placed them neatly on that still chest. Reaching for the blanket and between them the women covered him up. Leading an emotionally destroyed Emma into the kitchen. Rashid got up from his seat and embraced them both, soon everyone crying and it took a while to stop. Fatima, Mrs Practical sitting them down while she made tea for Emma and coffee for themselves. Nothing was said for a while before Emma asked about rules for burials in Egypt. Rashid replying that in theory it should be done on the same day, but as the man was not of their faith he… “No love, we’re guests in your country. We’ll abide by the rules… I don’t want another fine…” and despite themselves everyone chuckled. Mrs Feroz amazed by Emma’s resilience. Though she knew the real grieving was yet to come, the way it had taken her years to get over the loss of her first husband, one of Rashie’s best friends. She did want to show the couple what had been found the day before. Leading them through the dig to the cave, passing the room with the holes and it gave Emma an idea. Bringing the pair back once they’d seen the view. Emma Cline explained what had happened when she’d gone down, saying that rather than burying Tony in the yard by the house she wanted to place him here. “A symbolic journey. We’ve no idea what is down there. It’s far too dangerous to go down the outside. Maybe it’s as if Neen doesn’t want us to know any more…” she said before breaking down in tears. The Feroz looked at each other, before Fatima nodded. “Very well Emma. We’ll do as you request.” Rashid said and got a hug from both ladies. Preparation took an hour. The three dragged one of the remaining caskets through the dig and placed it by the hole. Emma then went to Tony and tearfully dressed him into the suit Fatima had made for the supposed burial, now to be used for real. Then the last journey as the trio loaded their fallen friend onto a stretcher and brought him to the room. Rashid placed him into the casket and was about to close the lid when Emma said stop. He wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. Hurrying back into the light and fetching it. Crying as she placed the golden band onto his cold finger and kissed it one last time. Laying the hand across his chest. The lid was closed up then all three knelt and prayed. “Ready?” Emma wept as the casket slid away, rumbling down the slope, the sand pouring out from the roof. The others fascinated as it vanished round the corner and both women were in an embrace as the last ‘boom’ came up the passage. Packing up took ages. Rashid insisting Emma would be their guest from now on. She wanted to stay at Neen but it was Fatima who finally talked her into leaving. A silent return to Cairo followed. Emma holding her friend’s hands all the way back to their apartment. Rooms were prepared for her and Mrs Cline began her new life as a secret widow. That night Fatima was lying next to her husband. “I’ll give her a month… she’ll want to go back,” she said. Rashid nodding sadly. She was right as Emma grieved long and hard. Many a day she’d hardly say a word to her hosts. Even having to be coerced into going shopping, just to get her out of the house for a while. Finally one day Mrs Cline came into the kitchen, hoping to see Fatima alone and smiled on finding her there. She lay a drawing on the table. “Would you make this for me please?” she asked. Showing Mrs Feroz the design for a dress and the woman immediately knew the only reason Emma could want that. “Yes love. I will create this… and I know why as well,” She said and the pair embraced. Telling Emma it’ll take about a week. It really was to be a lovely outfit, made from all the surviving robes that had been in the storeroom; well apart from a couple Mrs Feroz probably had upstairs! Working diligently on her evenings away from her normal job. Emma taking over responsibility for all the cooking and housework so it could be finished. Calling the girl into her bedroom at the completion and Mrs Cline gasped on seeing it for real. Trying it on and being briefed at what she’d need to do. That night Emma suggested they all go out for dinner rather than being at home. The Feroz knew what this meant, Em confirming this during the drinks after a very nice meal that she insisted on paying for. Using all the money that she’d had on her. Telling Rashid and Fatima the truth. “It’s been lovely staying with you two and I thank you with all my heart. But I know deep in there that Neen-Al-Tudlobry will always be home for me. Where it began for Tony and myself, long before we got together as man and wife. I… I want to rejoin him… there. To be at his side once more.” Rashid stared, as he wasn’t expecting that. “What, you go back there… and down…?” Emma nodding. “Yes, there are two holes remaining. We’ll load up a casket with food and water, as much as will fit. That goes down one. I intend to go down the other. We took a gamble last time and made it. Now I feel that it will be my destiny.” The pair was astonished and Rashid wanted to say no. Looking at Fatima who was staring at Emma. Tears not too far away at the thought she was about to lose another friend. But she took Mrs Cline’s hands and said yes. They were prepared to go along with this. Mr Feroz now agreeing with his wife that it should be tomorrow. The drinks were finished and he drove the ladies home. Emma Cline awoke next morning… happy. A long soak in the bath followed then once more dressed in ‘that’ suit. Coming into the kitchen to see the others awaiting her at the table. Hugs and gentle kisses exchanged before breakfast was eaten. It was Emma who drove them there. Anxious not to show nerves and she was pleased on turning into Neen and parking up. Making sure she handed back the keys with a grin. “It’s a long walk home!” and they’d all laughed at that. Emma and the others dragged the two sarcophagi into position and helped pack the first with water, food and Em’s handbag. Plus another bag that Rashid didn’t know the contents of but having seen it was light assumed it probably contained clothing as no other stuff had been seen. The casket was launched down the hole. Emma listening intently for the last ‘boom’ that signified that wherever it stopped it’d reached the same place as Tony. Now the last emotional hugs and kisses between the three followed. Fatima and Rashid helping Emma sit down then guide her back till the girl was lying flat. There were no restraints in here. Just a pillow had been asked for and placed where she needed it. Emma bid them farewell then the lid was placed over the sarcophagus and she braced herself. Feeling it lift up then… woosshhhh… The noise was deafening as the stone rubbed against stone. Emma hearing the ‘whump’ as the first nipple was hit, the sarcophagus twisting as it rounded the first corner then she squealed as it gained speed in the descent. More noise as the others were hit and she imagined the sand now flooding the hole behind her. The vibrations shaking her body then suddenly it felt like it was slowing. The end by her feet dropping before the other bit slammed down, to be replaced by silence. “Well I’m here sweetheart. But where…” Emma whispered and reached up. Praying the lid wasn’t jammed, leaving her to die of starvation in the casket. It moved! Emma shocked as daylight poured in and she let go for a moment. The lid closing again and this time she shut both eyes before trying again. Pushing hard and the front was eased away and Emma sat up. Slowly opening her eyes through both hands until they stabilised and Mrs Cline saw… The room was huge. Nearly a hundred feet across by the look of it as Emma climbed out of her casket. Seeing the magnificent hieroglyphics all around the walls. Sunlight coming from a huge square hole near the roof forty or fifty feet above her. She sighed, wishing Tony to have seen this. His casket rested a few feet to the left of hers, the one with her food and supplies between them. But looking up the hole she’d come down wasn’t necessary as the sand had come with the caskets and was piled up nearby. Only the first hole was clear and peering up Emma knew it was still blocked near the top. So any thought of escape was over. Smiling now Emma paced around the room. Her heels clicking so loudly on the stone floor as she approached the far end and what appeared to be an altar? The huge structure easily a casket length across in every direction. A hole underneath running the width of the thing. It was what was on top that caught Emma’s eyes. Golden Bands. Thick loops of metal like the one she’d worn every day, until today of course. Giving those to Fatima for sentimental reasons. Asking Mrs Feroz to treasure them. However these were shaped in… The girl looked all around the collar. Seeing no signs of release lever; buttons or any way of freeing the loop once it was shut. Whatever was placed in these, was staying in them so Emma decided this was one set she’d not be playing with! Climbing up on top Emma looked down. Seeing how they were laid out. The legs together there, waist here with the collar above that. The wrist cuffs either side of her head but not too far apart. Once secure the figure would face feet first towards the ‘window’ Emma lay down alongside the bands, holding herself in the same position as if they were locked around her body. It was all right, if ever she… ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death. Chapter 1: The Grave Request The topic came up in conversation, late one night after we had finished watching an old horror movie, the subject of being buried alive. Brandi told me that if I didn’t laugh at her, she would tell me her secret fantasy. I agreed not to laugh or make fun of her, so she told me her darkest desire. After she told me what she had dreamed of for so long. I finally said “So you really want to be buried alive, forever”? ...

Chapter 1: The Grave Request The topic came up in conversation, late one night after we had finished watching an old horror movie, the subject of being buried alive. Brandi told me that if I didn’t laugh at her, she would tell me her secret fantasy. I agreed not to laugh or make fun of her, so she told me her darkest desire. After she told me what she had dreamed of for so long. I finally said “So you really want to be buried alive, forever”? ...

Georgia woke to a gentle swaying motion. She was still a little dazed confused, and dreadfully uncomfortable. She could smell sea water! She tried to stretch and flex her arms. She couldn’t. She was immediately awake and aware. She was very tightly strapped in place, couldn’t move a muscle. Her arms tightly pinned behind her back, a strap around her neck, another around her waist and her ankles strapped slightly apart. She tried to call out but was rather firmly gagged too. A ring gag she wondered as she worked her tongue around it. She was upright and struggled to look to her sides, the strap around her neck made it hard. Georgia could see water stretching to the horizon ahead of her. Was she on a boat? How had she gotten here? Who had done this? Her mind raced. ...

Georgia woke to a gentle swaying motion. She was still a little dazed confused, and dreadfully uncomfortable. She could smell sea water! She tried to stretch and flex her arms. She couldn’t. She was immediately awake and aware. She was very tightly strapped in place, couldn’t move a muscle. Her arms tightly pinned behind her back, a strap around her neck, another around her waist and her ankles strapped slightly apart. She tried to call out but was rather firmly gagged too. A ring gag she wondered as she worked her tongue around it. She was upright and struggled to look to her sides, the strap around her neck made it hard. Georgia could see water stretching to the horizon ahead of her. Was she on a boat? How had she gotten here? Who had done this? Her mind raced. ...

She’d only opened the door a crack before the two women outside had barged their way inside, sending Georgia reeling backwards as she was caught by the force of the door being flung open. She had landed on her arse with a bump and sat shocked in disbelief looking up at the two women, now inside her home. The first thing she noticed was the gun being brandished ahead of her. ...

She’d only opened the door a crack before the two women outside had barged their way inside, sending Georgia reeling backwards as she was caught by the force of the door being flung open. She had landed on her arse with a bump and sat shocked in disbelief looking up at the two women, now inside her home. The first thing she noticed was the gun being brandished ahead of her. ...

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.

Georgia had been late home from work again but was still keen to play a game with her boyfriend, Kev. “Keep your uniform on Georgia, I like the way your tits strain against your shirt with your arms behind your back” Kev said already pulling her arms behind her. So she stood there in her black skirt and light blue shirt, her bust swelling forward and shirt buttons straining as he slipped the single sleeve up her arms and began to buckle it in place. ...

Georgia had been late home from work again but was still keen to play a game with her boyfriend, Kev. “Keep your uniform on Georgia, I like the way your tits strain against your shirt with your arms behind your back” Kev said already pulling her arms behind her. So she stood there in her black skirt and light blue shirt, her bust swelling forward and shirt buttons straining as he slipped the single sleeve up her arms and began to buckle it in place. ...

For the background to the characters in ths story you can read Ken’s Brithday Gift and Bondage Barbie Deluxe …Some time had gone by since my last experience in Don’s toy room, and my duplicate dolls display in the Barbie Bondage Deluxe box Ken had made. Don’s idea of passing her for me had worked out like he had planned, and to the best of my knowledge he kept her in that box on display. There was however one excited phone call from me to Don just before he showed off his new doll to “the two pain in the asses”, all I said was “doll eyes”. Don had noticed that if he displayed his new doll upright as I was, her weighted doll eyes would be open under the lone ranger mask, unlike mine had been. Don, mister attention to detail, had realized this before me and made the proper adjustments, and that made my excited call unnecessary… …Ken had found a very beautiful girl he was interested in and all of us remained friends, but Ken and I weren’t sleeping together anymore either. I knew this day would likely come, but it wasn’t a welcome change for me, especially with loosing Don’s special entertainment at the same time. I hate to say it was a low point in my life, because I still had hubby and I now had some challenging duties at work with “Uncle Don” watching out for me as well. The best one of those was Don’s director friend, Levi, and his purchase of an entire castle in Europe. He bought the small castle’s ruins, really a collection of large cut stones, and intended to have our company move them here and reassemble them, duplicating their previous glory. Our company handled “heavy hauling”, and this complex project would help us make a name for ourselves overseas. Several things went wrong with the project before I got involved with it, and all Levi’s money spent to that point looked lost. This was the reason Don had been at the office so much before my “dollification” early last year. There was a cultural shock at prospect of moving the castle to another country, and for ethical and public relations reasons, we couldn’t do it. I spoke with Levi several times on this subject and we had become closer friends. It was easy to do as Levi was a great guy, but I felt terrible that he wouldn’t be able to achieve his goal of a real castle, a desire he had held since his first erotic horror movie. I tried to make light of the situation and suggested that since he had spent so much money identifying each cut stone, and their location in the structure, we could have the stones cut here and use the building plans he already owns. After a lengthy pause on the other end of the phone, he shocked me and said he would be fine with that! One call to Don, and Levi looked like he would get his castle, but made with domestic stones. We wouldn’t make very much money, or get the public exposure with the project Don wanted, but it was a creative solution to our problem that I likely wouldn’t have thought of without my “special training” class. I had to laugh at the thought of that! Levi had finally contacted Ken about building a rack for him, and the details were a well kept secret. I assumed he would want one like in one of his early movies, but Ken wouldn’t tell me anything… Levi and I had developed an email relationship as well, and he shocked me by asking me, on line, if he could use my ideas about the erotic horror movie we had talked about at his house over a year ago. I told him I would love to see that movie, and then never heard another word about it… …More time passed, and I had been to the site of Levi’s castle two times to see the progress the stone masons had made. It was easy to see where Levi intended to put his dungeon equipment, and he told me he intended to make the movie we had talked about in his new castle. His new place was remote enough, he had bought a whole wooded mountainside, and had parking for his and his visitors cars well away from the castle. The effect would be like being transported back in time, and Levi was unsure if he was even going to keep his old house. I was very happy to have been a small part of helping him achieve his dream, and he said he wanted to make a free commercial for Don, to be aired in the country we got the castle idea from. This way, Levi said, Don could maybe recover some of the publicity he lost with this project. I thought that was a wonderful idea, but wondered why Levi was telling me about it. Then he dropped the bomb on me and said he wanted me to star in the commercial! He explained his reasoning to me and it made sense, and I reluctantly agreed, IF Don would let me. Levi said he would give his old friend no choice in the matter! Levi said he wished it was that easy to cast OUR movie! He told me he liked the idea of an “over the top” movie, but it would be so over the top that it couldn’t get any kind of rating to be shown publicly without cutting it up too badly. He said he intended to distribute it personally, for private use, for the cost of the production plus a fair profit. He said he would likely charge between five and twenty thousand dollars per copy, and had a long list of customers already waiting for the old movie he said was found in an unedited form. He told me he had a list of men who would take the parts for a simple percentage of the gross, and in reality would do it for free after reading the script. The lead woman’s part was the problem, he told me. He said once they read the men’s script, the lead woman didn’t have many lines, as I knew, they ran away. I asked Levi if I could read the script he had in mind, and he reluctantly said I could, only if I kept it to myself. I agreed and took a copy he had with him to my hotel for a read through. Back at my hotel I felt like a complete slut, I was half way through the script and I had my fingers inside my panties furiously rubbing myself to still another orgasm. Somehow Levi, or more likely his writers, had turned my most erotic daydream into a script! It felt dirtier to read it, than to just think it, but it was obviously inspired by my after dinner conversation with Levi. I had to stop reading and call Levi, but I didn’t know what to say to him. I decided to order room service first, and started reading where I left off… My meal came before I did again, and the young man who brought up my steak dinner didn’t know how lucky he was to escape with his virtue intact. I didn’t like the ending of the script, and that was my excuse to call Levi. When I called he said he was waiting to heaqr from me, and asked me if I still thought of him as a friend. I laughed and said I was going to ask him the same thing, and the answer was yes. I told him I must have drank more than I realized that night, and I hated to admit it, but that he got most of it right. He told me to write in any changes I wanted on the margins of the pages, that’s why they’re left so big, he explained. I made the changes I wanted and scribbled notes in the margins as instructed, and I wrote two possible endings. Much of this movie would depend on the actress, the script I envisioned would be flexible, actually I envisioned no script at all. Levi was the director and knew there needed to be one, I was just a horny woman with a dark imagination, and I wanted to star in this movie! The thought just popped into my head on it’s own. I gave Levi back the script with the notes I made, and I asked him if I could have the part. Before he even thought about it he said no. I pretended I didn’t hear him and explained why I would be perfect for the part, how I didn’t want to play the part, but wanted to be filmed living the part. My fantasy, I told him, was even in black and white like the old rainy day horror classics I enjoyed. He thought about that for a moment and smiled, and then said he gets it, but the answer was still no. I caught myself whining like a little kid," WHYYYY NNNNOT?" “Because”, he said, “I would likely loose my taste for such a rough experience ten seconds into it, and we will have tons of set up costs to spread out in a very short movie that nobody will want. He also told me he didn’t want to see me hurt, that this wasn’t “play time.”” “It is to me”, I shot back. I told him I have done things like this before, and wanted to do it. I told him no actress would last past the second scene, and that even if he made the changes I suggested, I could do the movie to the ending credits. I gave Levi a big hug, I knew I had crossed a line with him, friend or not. I told him I knew he only wanted what is best for me, but that if I did this movie, and it scared the hell out of me, I would not look back and regret it. If I didn’t do this movie, I knew I would always wonder “what if”. I told him I expected this would be a once and done kind of thing, that once I lived this fantasy of mine I would probably go back to my somewhat normal life without regrets. I asked Levi if he would consider giving me the part, with the changes I made, IF he couldn’t find someone else. He paused a moment told me it was against his better judgment, but that he would sign me to the part conditionally, and handed me a contract out of his briefcase. When I looked at it, it was a sheet of paper where I could highlight what I wouldn’t do in the film, with a huge list of unimaginable things to choose from, and a place to sign it on the bottom. I signed it and gave it back without any limits at all. If the terms of the contract were designed to shock me out of wanting to do the movie, it had the complete opposite effect on me… If I got the part, he told me, I would get a percentage of the gross like the other actors. Some time went by and Levi’s castle was finally complete, and he asked me to block out two weeks at the end of the next month for shooting the commercial, all with Don’s approval. Levi said he would take care of my accommodations on the shoot, and all I needed to do was show up at the airport and have Tony, Levi’s driver, pick me up. Levi told me he couldn’t find another actress to do the movie, and even some porn stars turned down the rough role! Levi said it in a way that would let me back out of my earlier commitment to star in the film, if I wanted. I told him I was looking forward to the movie, and he said in that case that we would shoot the movie right after the commercial was done. None of my coworkers, or even hubby would know how long it takes to shoot a commercial, and would assume my two week absence was work related. Don was another issue, but Levi said he had that handled. From that phone call until the plane landed, I had no sex of any kind, with or without hubby. I was almost climbing the walls of the plane on the return trip with the realization of what I set myself up for, and with my earlier boasting to Levi, I couldn’t chicken out now. There was a whole group of people who were depending on me not to! Tony picked me up at the airport and commented on my tan, Levi suggested I tan up at a salon because there would be no make up breaks for the movie, at least for me, and I asked Tony if he liked it. He said it did… We shot the commercial in front of Levi’s castle, and inside it as well, and the whole thing was done by mid morning. The commercial was shot with a separate film crew, and to the best of my knowledge, the select movie crew didn’t know who I was. Levi had told me his use of black and white film would make the movie look old, and all the actors, including me would be hard to identify and sworn to secercy. His story line for the movie was that he had found this old movie someplace, and that made it interesting for high end movie enthusiast who wanted to own some vintage kink. And, he explained, it would be assumed that any of the actors would be long gone, or at least very old as his story said the movie was eighty years old. Over lunch Levi asked one last time if I wanted to go through with this movie, and if I could hold out for as long as possible if I did. I told him yes to both, and he reminded me everybody on set would ignore any pleading or screaming I did, and my treatment would continue either until the other actors needed to rest, or I confessed. He also reminded me it was likely I would get marked up some, but that they wouldn’t do any permanent physical harm to me, unless something went wrong. Levi had a last question for me, sex? I told him if anything got out of hand for me, I would confess. How could I tell my friend that I hoped they fucked the crap out of me. In my fantasy though, it was all about the helplessness and not necessarily the sex, but I would be just as unable to stop someone who wanted to use me in that way as well! The confession was my “safe word”, until I used it, I would be at the mercy of my torturers. I had a silent, personal bet with myself, if I needed to use the “safe word” confession, I wouldn’t try something like this again. I knew the script went from capture to mild to rough to extreme, just like a real medieval torture session would go. And I knew the outline of the script, however the details were subject to change, much like filming a theatre stage production. “The show must go on” was the phrase I remembered most from the few plays I was in. The goal in medieval times was a confession, without horribly injuring the accused, me, as to make the process look fair. In truth it was barbaric, and would start for me before dinner! I showered and got into my costume, a multi layered dress with the familiar cotton shift on under the layers. Medieval women apparently didn’t wear bras, and I skipped some of the layers of clothing I could have worn, as they would only get ruined anyway. When I came out Levi was waiting, and he gave me a ride to the back side of the property in his golf cart. We were on a cart path and he instructed me to follow the path and everything would start from there. He also told me he made some changes to the script, only so that I would be surprised when things happened. Remember, he told me, the only thing that stops the action is your confession. I got it I told him, and I gave him a kiss on the cheek and thanked him before I started walking down the path. I expected him to be working one of the cameras, but I clearly saw him drive away. I walked for a good ten minutes, long enough to think I was in the wrong spot when I spotted two men on horseback. They started chasing me, and I ran down the path right into the arms of another large man, who grabbed me and twisted my arms behind my back roughly. I started screaming and kicking, I wasn’t acting either. My arms were roped in front of me and a length of rope was tied off to one of the horses before I noticed one of the two cameras filming my capture. In less than ten minutes I forgot I was making a movie, and decided I would continue to disregard the cameras as best as I could. With the help of the other two men, a strip of material was torn off the bottom of my long dress and several knots were tied into the middle of it. The men had fashioned a cleave gag and they tied it in place to keep me from screaming, even though it wasn’t in my version of the script. Clearly the cast was able to improvise when necessary. It would make it hard to confess and use my safe word if they kept it in, but it did make me feel even more helpless and vulnerable. ...

For the background to the characters in ths story you can read Ken’s Brithday Gift and Bondage Barbie Deluxe …Some time had gone by since my last experience in Don’s toy room, and my duplicate dolls display in the Barbie Bondage Deluxe box Ken had made. Don’s idea of passing her for me had worked out like he had planned, and to the best of my knowledge he kept her in that box on display. There was however one excited phone call from me to Don just before he showed off his new doll to “the two pain in the asses”, all I said was “doll eyes”. Don had noticed that if he displayed his new doll upright as I was, her weighted doll eyes would be open under the lone ranger mask, unlike mine had been. Don, mister attention to detail, had realized this before me and made the proper adjustments, and that made my excited call unnecessary… …Ken had found a very beautiful girl he was interested in and all of us remained friends, but Ken and I weren’t sleeping together anymore either. I knew this day would likely come, but it wasn’t a welcome change for me, especially with loosing Don’s special entertainment at the same time. I hate to say it was a low point in my life, because I still had hubby and I now had some challenging duties at work with “Uncle Don” watching out for me as well. The best one of those was Don’s director friend, Levi, and his purchase of an entire castle in Europe. He bought the small castle’s ruins, really a collection of large cut stones, and intended to have our company move them here and reassemble them, duplicating their previous glory. Our company handled “heavy hauling”, and this complex project would help us make a name for ourselves overseas. Several things went wrong with the project before I got involved with it, and all Levi’s money spent to that point looked lost. This was the reason Don had been at the office so much before my “dollification” early last year. There was a cultural shock at prospect of moving the castle to another country, and for ethical and public relations reasons, we couldn’t do it. I spoke with Levi several times on this subject and we had become closer friends. It was easy to do as Levi was a great guy, but I felt terrible that he wouldn’t be able to achieve his goal of a real castle, a desire he had held since his first erotic horror movie. I tried to make light of the situation and suggested that since he had spent so much money identifying each cut stone, and their location in the structure, we could have the stones cut here and use the building plans he already owns. After a lengthy pause on the other end of the phone, he shocked me and said he would be fine with that! One call to Don, and Levi looked like he would get his castle, but made with domestic stones. We wouldn’t make very much money, or get the public exposure with the project Don wanted, but it was a creative solution to our problem that I likely wouldn’t have thought of without my “special training” class. I had to laugh at the thought of that! Levi had finally contacted Ken about building a rack for him, and the details were a well kept secret. I assumed he would want one like in one of his early movies, but Ken wouldn’t tell me anything… Levi and I had developed an email relationship as well, and he shocked me by asking me, on line, if he could use my ideas about the erotic horror movie we had talked about at his house over a year ago. I told him I would love to see that movie, and then never heard another word about it… …More time passed, and I had been to the site of Levi’s castle two times to see the progress the stone masons had made. It was easy to see where Levi intended to put his dungeon equipment, and he told me he intended to make the movie we had talked about in his new castle. His new place was remote enough, he had bought a whole wooded mountainside, and had parking for his and his visitors cars well away from the castle. The effect would be like being transported back in time, and Levi was unsure if he was even going to keep his old house. I was very happy to have been a small part of helping him achieve his dream, and he said he wanted to make a free commercial for Don, to be aired in the country we got the castle idea from. This way, Levi said, Don could maybe recover some of the publicity he lost with this project. I thought that was a wonderful idea, but wondered why Levi was telling me about it. Then he dropped the bomb on me and said he wanted me to star in the commercial! He explained his reasoning to me and it made sense, and I reluctantly agreed, IF Don would let me. Levi said he would give his old friend no choice in the matter! Levi said he wished it was that easy to cast OUR movie! He told me he liked the idea of an “over the top” movie, but it would be so over the top that it couldn’t get any kind of rating to be shown publicly without cutting it up too badly. He said he intended to distribute it personally, for private use, for the cost of the production plus a fair profit. He said he would likely charge between five and twenty thousand dollars per copy, and had a long list of customers already waiting for the old movie he said was found in an unedited form. He told me he had a list of men who would take the parts for a simple percentage of the gross, and in reality would do it for free after reading the script. The lead woman’s part was the problem, he told me. He said once they read the men’s script, the lead woman didn’t have many lines, as I knew, they ran away. I asked Levi if I could read the script he had in mind, and he reluctantly said I could, only if I kept it to myself. I agreed and took a copy he had with him to my hotel for a read through. Back at my hotel I felt like a complete slut, I was half way through the script and I had my fingers inside my panties furiously rubbing myself to still another orgasm. Somehow Levi, or more likely his writers, had turned my most erotic daydream into a script! It felt dirtier to read it, than to just think it, but it was obviously inspired by my after dinner conversation with Levi. I had to stop reading and call Levi, but I didn’t know what to say to him. I decided to order room service first, and started reading where I left off… My meal came before I did again, and the young man who brought up my steak dinner didn’t know how lucky he was to escape with his virtue intact. I didn’t like the ending of the script, and that was my excuse to call Levi. When I called he said he was waiting to heaqr from me, and asked me if I still thought of him as a friend. I laughed and said I was going to ask him the same thing, and the answer was yes. I told him I must have drank more than I realized that night, and I hated to admit it, but that he got most of it right. He told me to write in any changes I wanted on the margins of the pages, that’s why they’re left so big, he explained. I made the changes I wanted and scribbled notes in the margins as instructed, and I wrote two possible endings. Much of this movie would depend on the actress, the script I envisioned would be flexible, actually I envisioned no script at all. Levi was the director and knew there needed to be one, I was just a horny woman with a dark imagination, and I wanted to star in this movie! The thought just popped into my head on it’s own. I gave Levi back the script with the notes I made, and I asked him if I could have the part. Before he even thought about it he said no. I pretended I didn’t hear him and explained why I would be perfect for the part, how I didn’t want to play the part, but wanted to be filmed living the part. My fantasy, I told him, was even in black and white like the old rainy day horror classics I enjoyed. He thought about that for a moment and smiled, and then said he gets it, but the answer was still no. I caught myself whining like a little kid," WHYYYY NNNNOT?" “Because”, he said, “I would likely loose my taste for such a rough experience ten seconds into it, and we will have tons of set up costs to spread out in a very short movie that nobody will want. He also told me he didn’t want to see me hurt, that this wasn’t “play time.”” “It is to me”, I shot back. I told him I have done things like this before, and wanted to do it. I told him no actress would last past the second scene, and that even if he made the changes I suggested, I could do the movie to the ending credits. I gave Levi a big hug, I knew I had crossed a line with him, friend or not. I told him I knew he only wanted what is best for me, but that if I did this movie, and it scared the hell out of me, I would not look back and regret it. If I didn’t do this movie, I knew I would always wonder “what if”. I told him I expected this would be a once and done kind of thing, that once I lived this fantasy of mine I would probably go back to my somewhat normal life without regrets. I asked Levi if he would consider giving me the part, with the changes I made, IF he couldn’t find someone else. He paused a moment told me it was against his better judgment, but that he would sign me to the part conditionally, and handed me a contract out of his briefcase. When I looked at it, it was a sheet of paper where I could highlight what I wouldn’t do in the film, with a huge list of unimaginable things to choose from, and a place to sign it on the bottom. I signed it and gave it back without any limits at all. If the terms of the contract were designed to shock me out of wanting to do the movie, it had the complete opposite effect on me… If I got the part, he told me, I would get a percentage of the gross like the other actors. Some time went by and Levi’s castle was finally complete, and he asked me to block out two weeks at the end of the next month for shooting the commercial, all with Don’s approval. Levi said he would take care of my accommodations on the shoot, and all I needed to do was show up at the airport and have Tony, Levi’s driver, pick me up. Levi told me he couldn’t find another actress to do the movie, and even some porn stars turned down the rough role! Levi said it in a way that would let me back out of my earlier commitment to star in the film, if I wanted. I told him I was looking forward to the movie, and he said in that case that we would shoot the movie right after the commercial was done. None of my coworkers, or even hubby would know how long it takes to shoot a commercial, and would assume my two week absence was work related. Don was another issue, but Levi said he had that handled. From that phone call until the plane landed, I had no sex of any kind, with or without hubby. I was almost climbing the walls of the plane on the return trip with the realization of what I set myself up for, and with my earlier boasting to Levi, I couldn’t chicken out now. There was a whole group of people who were depending on me not to! Tony picked me up at the airport and commented on my tan, Levi suggested I tan up at a salon because there would be no make up breaks for the movie, at least for me, and I asked Tony if he liked it. He said it did… We shot the commercial in front of Levi’s castle, and inside it as well, and the whole thing was done by mid morning. The commercial was shot with a separate film crew, and to the best of my knowledge, the select movie crew didn’t know who I was. Levi had told me his use of black and white film would make the movie look old, and all the actors, including me would be hard to identify and sworn to secercy. His story line for the movie was that he had found this old movie someplace, and that made it interesting for high end movie enthusiast who wanted to own some vintage kink. And, he explained, it would be assumed that any of the actors would be long gone, or at least very old as his story said the movie was eighty years old. Over lunch Levi asked one last time if I wanted to go through with this movie, and if I could hold out for as long as possible if I did. I told him yes to both, and he reminded me everybody on set would ignore any pleading or screaming I did, and my treatment would continue either until the other actors needed to rest, or I confessed. He also reminded me it was likely I would get marked up some, but that they wouldn’t do any permanent physical harm to me, unless something went wrong. Levi had a last question for me, sex? I told him if anything got out of hand for me, I would confess. How could I tell my friend that I hoped they fucked the crap out of me. In my fantasy though, it was all about the helplessness and not necessarily the sex, but I would be just as unable to stop someone who wanted to use me in that way as well! The confession was my “safe word”, until I used it, I would be at the mercy of my torturers. I had a silent, personal bet with myself, if I needed to use the “safe word” confession, I wouldn’t try something like this again. I knew the script went from capture to mild to rough to extreme, just like a real medieval torture session would go. And I knew the outline of the script, however the details were subject to change, much like filming a theatre stage production. “The show must go on” was the phrase I remembered most from the few plays I was in. The goal in medieval times was a confession, without horribly injuring the accused, me, as to make the process look fair. In truth it was barbaric, and would start for me before dinner! I showered and got into my costume, a multi layered dress with the familiar cotton shift on under the layers. Medieval women apparently didn’t wear bras, and I skipped some of the layers of clothing I could have worn, as they would only get ruined anyway. When I came out Levi was waiting, and he gave me a ride to the back side of the property in his golf cart. We were on a cart path and he instructed me to follow the path and everything would start from there. He also told me he made some changes to the script, only so that I would be surprised when things happened. Remember, he told me, the only thing that stops the action is your confession. I got it I told him, and I gave him a kiss on the cheek and thanked him before I started walking down the path. I expected him to be working one of the cameras, but I clearly saw him drive away. I walked for a good ten minutes, long enough to think I was in the wrong spot when I spotted two men on horseback. They started chasing me, and I ran down the path right into the arms of another large man, who grabbed me and twisted my arms behind my back roughly. I started screaming and kicking, I wasn’t acting either. My arms were roped in front of me and a length of rope was tied off to one of the horses before I noticed one of the two cameras filming my capture. In less than ten minutes I forgot I was making a movie, and decided I would continue to disregard the cameras as best as I could. With the help of the other two men, a strip of material was torn off the bottom of my long dress and several knots were tied into the middle of it. The men had fashioned a cleave gag and they tied it in place to keep me from screaming, even though it wasn’t in my version of the script. Clearly the cast was able to improvise when necessary. It would make it hard to confess and use my safe word if they kept it in, but it did make me feel even more helpless and vulnerable. ...

Following is a story derived from an online R/P session with my Goddess Jane. It is set in ancient Egypt and it shifts between pov and has the slaves pov in Italic. Please give co-credit to my Goddess Jane as she wrote half… Goddess: It is the time of pharaohs and pyramids, an age of glory and grandeur. I see myself as a queen, the ruler of all of Egypt and you are my special unique little tiny slave and pet at only 6-inches long. You are my favored pet. We are going to celebrate the one-year anniversary of you coming into my ownership. It will be a special day. But right now my special thing is to bathe and oil you. I don’t let anyone else do this. ...

Several months ago, my wife DeeDee told me that she wanted a separation. Her “new” life goals didn’t include me. She was determined to find a “good gentleman” that shared her (new) values. Since we had been drifting apart for some time, this was no big shocker. It was one of those sultry Summer nights. The heat and humidity could be cut with a knife. I was at home, alone, with the TV on for company. DeeDee had dressed in her hottest Summer party clothes and was out on a date for the evening with one of her “new” boyfriends. She had looked so hot when she came down the stairs dressed in tiny stretch jeans micro shorts, a nearly transparent lace bikini top, bright red platform “fuck me” heels with a clear plastic platform and matching wrist bands. God, did she ever make me horny, parading around the house for some time before she left, but I guessed that was the idea… Especially when she gathered up some of our bondage gear to take with her, ropes, wrist and ankle straps, a posture collar and spanking belt along with her favorite dildo. ...

story also appears in Boundstories section Several months ago, my wife DeeDee told me that she wanted a separation. Her “new” life goals didn’t include me. She was determined to find a “good gentleman” that shared her (new) values. Since we had been drifting apart for some time, this was no big shocker. It was one of those sultry Summer nights. The heat and humidity could be cut with a knife. I was at home, alone, with the TV on for company. DeeDee had dressed in her hottest Summer party clothes and was out on a date for the evening with one of her “new” boyfriends. She had looked so hot when she came down the stairs dressed in tiny stretch jeans micro shorts, a nearly transparent lace bikini top, bright red platform “fuck me” heels with a clear plastic platform and matching wrist bands. God, did she ever make me horny, parading around the house for some time before she left, but I guessed that was the idea… Especially when she gathered up some of our bondage gear to take with her, ropes, wrist and ankle straps, a posture collar and spanking belt along with her favorite dildo. ...

(story continues from Good Fences Don’t always make Good Neighbors…) Good Fences, Part #2 Friday night came so slowly, it seemed like an eternity. I had planned what I was going to do, to wear, and how to treat the special occasion that was coming. It was only one day, 24 hours, but time seemed to crawl. Then, it was time!. DeeDee and I sat across from each other at the supper table. She had prepared my favorite meal, and had treated me like we were a newly dating couple all day, not like a couple that had separated, but were contentiously living under the same roof. “ Are you going to be OK with this, my having my new boyfriend here in our house, in our bed tonight?” she queried. ...

My name is Francis and I have for some time now had a dream that haunts my every sleeping moment. For sometime I have woken up in the night only to find that the situation I dreamed I was in, was just that, a dream! Strangely every time I wake I am very wet between my legs, sweaty all over, and feeling terrified, but also so bloody aroused that I just have to toss myself off. I have even taken to sleeping with a dildoe beneath my pillow for just this situation! ...

My name is Francis and I have for some time now had a dream that haunts my every sleeping moment. For sometime I have woken up in the night only to find that the situation I dreamed I was in, was just that, a dream! Strangely every time I wake I am very wet between my legs, sweaty all over, and feeling terrified, but also so bloody aroused that I just have to toss myself off. I have even taken to sleeping with a dildoe beneath my pillow for just this situation! ...

Chrissie peered around the corner at the van in the alley. She was pretty sure it was the same van as before, the one that had been there right before her neighbor Vanessa disappeared. As the van pulled away, Chrissie considered calling the police. She didn’t really have any evidence, just intuition, so she figured the cops would blow her off unless she had something more substantial. She ran to her car and began following the van, deciding to give up if it headed to a bad neighborhood. On the contrary, the van headed for the ritzy part of town. It pulled into a driveway with a gate, which closed behind it. ...

Chrissie peered around the corner at the van in the alley. She was pretty sure it was the same van as before, the one that had been there right before her neighbor Vanessa disappeared. As the van pulled away, Chrissie considered calling the police. She didn’t really have any evidence, just intuition, so she figured the cops would blow her off unless she had something more substantial. She ran to her car and began following the van, deciding to give up if it headed to a bad neighborhood. On the contrary, the van headed for the ritzy part of town. It pulled into a driveway with a gate, which closed behind it. ...

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

‘I am disappointed in you, Paolo. Very disappointed.’ Paolo looked at his uncle without fear. He has seen grown men, strong men, shiver with fright facing Don Enrico, but not Paolo. He had been stupid of course. He should have made that drugs delivery last night as his uncle had told him to do; a delivery worth millions is not something to take lightly. Instead, he had become distracted by the blond bimbo, who had clung to him in the club. Like any hot blooded 21-year old Italian stud, he was easily distracted by his loins. His mind wandered over the events of the night before. How she had flirted with him on the dance floor, cupping his balls and leaving him in no doubt she was offering more. He had taken her back to his apartment, tied her to his bed and fucked her raw for so long that he couldn’t remember how often he had cum. In the beginning she had been more than willing, if slightly uneasy because of the bondage. He distinctly remembered how he had penetrated her every orifice with his manhood; a tool so big it could challenge a donkey’s. She had begged him not to when he had turned her over and lined up the big pole with her virgin arsehole, but he had just laughed and taken her roughly, ramming half his length into her with a single mighty push. ...

Suggested prerequisite: Virtual Bondage Part One Chapter two: “Egyptian Queen” Cindy did not feel like herself. Something was wrong but she did not know what it was. It was dark first of all, and completely silent. What is going on? Secondly she noticed the temperature. She could feel her body and the air felt arid and dry. The air temperature had to be close to 100 degrees. She could only think of maybe two times in her 25 years that it had even gotten close to 100 in rural Ohio. And, when it did it was not dry and arid. Usually wet and thunderstorms. ...

This is my first story and is actually a true experience. The dream seemed to repeat itself over many nights, indeed over many years. There were a lot of variations, but all the dreams had a common theme of me being wrapped up tight in what appeared to be some sort of clear plastic. Some times this was like bandages wound over and over until there was nothing of me left unwrapped. Other times it was like I was in some sort of plastic bag that had been shrunk tightly over me. I looked and felt like a supermarket chicken. ...

I first met Seamus Kelly in the Student Union bar at Oxford University in England. He was Australian, from somewhere I’d never heard of called Paramatta, and was doing a post-graduate course in Elizabethan Drama. The name is Irish betraying his distant ancestry and pronounced Shamus, but you needn’t remember that as we instantly christened him Ned. He was a tall, tanned and flamboyant character whereas I was only middle height, thin, pale and wiry, but our preoccupations with girls and booze were very much in accord. My Traffic Engineering Masters was for the same two-year period and we ended up sharing an attic flat for our final year. ...