Coffin on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Ghostly Encounter

Sat, 29 Oct 2022 00:00:00 +0000

Sarah had recently inherited an old cottage after her auntie had passed away. It needed some work to fix it up but it was just the break she needed to get onto the property ladder. She hadn’t known her auntie well, mainly that she lived a secluded life and apart from Christmas and birthday cards, she never really saw her.

Sarah was in her twenties and single. She was pretty with a sexy body but seemed unable to find her perfect man.

Shawna and Joyce - Weekend Burial

Sat, 04 Dec 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 1: The Discovery

Joyce and Shawna had been living at their new-England home for a few years. These old turn-of-the-century houses always seemed to hold architectural surprises, from the little tower room in the attic and now to the basement, where a recent restoration of the basement pantry had revealed an old sealed-off stone walled cellar room.

Entry into the secret room went through a short stone-arched walkway and a heavy cast-iron door, which was hidden behind some paneling and shelves in the pantry. Upon discovery, the ladies squealed with delight, realizing the potential of another playroom in the old house. The room was dirt floored and very grimy with cobwebs everywhere, but they set out to clean it out.

Cassie's Curses

Thu, 04 Nov 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Goth Curious

The girl knew not what caused her midnight stirrings. She only knew that when she awoke her nipples were hard and her pussy dripping. No matter how much work her fingers did they could not quench her. Why was she so fucking horny? Being as quiet as she could so as not to wake her roommate she climbed out of her bed.

She had to leave.

Where?

She didn’t know. She just had to go.

The Burial

Thu, 04 May 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Offering oneself to be buried alive takes a lot of courage, especially when the people who have offered to do it for you are happy to do it to you for their own pleasure. Tanya met such a couple. It all started with a simple fantasy that continued to manifest into some wicked and devious idea, of being not only buried alive, but have caked in cement inside the burial box. This took some organising on both parties. Tanya had to decide what she was going to wear (latex wear was chosen as suitable), and the couple had to decide where, when, how deep, type of box etc… It had to be all planned down to the last detail. So Tanya chose a knee length latex dress, her favourite one, elbow length rubber gloves (for which the hands would be taped into balls), latex stockings, PVC waist cincher/corset and ankle ballet boots (2 sizes too small so to squish the feet and cause extreme discomfort). Would also need some lube on the feet to get them inside the boot. An open face rubber hood and a large rubber penis gag. No underwear! And just her boobies. She also would take her blindfold. The couple, Steve and Marion, were working on a suitable location, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Australia has a lot of desolate locations and it wouldn’t be hard to hide a grave/body. It’s probably why some people are never found. Mind you they could also have been taken by Aliens, but that doesn’t happen here . The couple chose a remote town in Victoria called Donald, and set the burial site near Lake Buloke (Google Map this and you’ll find it). Tanya gave it the thumbs up. On a Tuesday night, Tanya drained her bank account, and headed towards the town of Donald. It was a long drive, but instructions were that she was not to go all the way, she would meet up with Marion about 15 kilometres out of Avoca. Dump everything in her car, lock it and toss the car keys nearby. Upon meeting at the rendevous, Tanya’s nerves really started to kick in. Especially when Marion arrived. It was quite a big car, looked a bit like a Chrysler 300C. Hard to see in the dark. Marion instructed Tanya to get dressed in her latex and put her clothes in a plastic bag provided. Marion said she would dump her clothes in one of those donation bins. Once Tanya was dressed, the remainder of her burial gear was placed in the car. Tanya was cuffed, gagged, blindfolded and guided to the boot (trunk) of the car and placed inside. What followed next was a 3 - 4 hour straight drive. The car stopped, engine switched off. But no one came to get Tanya. She then heard voices. Doors opening, closing, the car starting again and moving. Where was she going?? The car drove for about another 90 minutes until the road became a bit bumpy. It stopped… The boot (trunk) opened… “I thought you’d like some fresh air” Steve mocked.

The Unusual Hotel

Fri, 17 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Going back through some old files I found this one that was originally posted to the first plaza forum in 2005 from Darkraptor.

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

Subterranean Sally 4

Thu, 09 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part three

Part Four

I lay there for ages crying into the mask. Feeling betrayed like her in the story, but knowing it was my fault just made it worse. Bob was obviously scared that I’d placed myself in danger again and maybe this ‘extra’ time might snap me out of it. Repeatedly I replayed that moment upstairs, swishing happily around and grabbing the locket, one of two that I’d kept of Donna’s… this one white, the other black… “OH BLAST!” I screamed into the gag, now remembering the safe key WAS IN THE OTHER ONE! Weeping now at my carelessness, I’d kept the key in there because I’d worn that one with a dark blue dress for the night at the hotel with my girlfriends! So ‘all I had to do’ was wait for Bob’ to re-establish my text capabilty… so I settled down. Worked hard at doing my exercises and prayed like heck it’d only be the first week… It took nearly a month! The screen startled me and I’d almost forgotten how the keyboard worked when I saw communications were up. Bob and Mary standing there and it was mum who was tapping. ‘Dearest Sally. We’re sorry to have kept you down there honey, but felt…’ They stopped as a flow of gibberish came across. I cursed and backspaced, tapping quickly in case he switched me off again. ‘Hi guys, welcome back. But dad, I feel so stupud. My safe key is in the OTHER locket… can you go and chekc’ he read, ignoring the spelling mistakes and I saw his head resting against Mary’s shoulders for a moment. He quickly left the room and I nervously waited, my eyes struggling to focus as I’d been in virtual darkness for so long. Muscle-wise I felt really bad, the cramps just permenantly painful now and I swore this was going to be the LAST time I’d be ever down here. He returned waving the key and the ring full of padlock ones. Mary leapt up and embraced him, both bursting into tears and I was crying too, hoping he’d whip the wardrobe doors open and start up the jackhammer… ‘OK sweetheart. We really should have checked ourselves. I’m gonna kick myself for ages. So I’ll start freeing you tomorrow morning. It’s Sunday night and a bit late to start drilling now…’ I cursed unladylike but knew he wouldn’t budge. ‘Fair enough, and again I’m sorry. I’ve been exercising but still feel shi… Sorry rotten’ I tapped, grinning when Mary waggled a mocking finger. We ‘chatted’ a lot more and eventually an hour later they signed off with virtual hugs, Bob switching my movies and music back on. ‘You’ll need them to drown out the drill eh?’ He was right and I suffered horribly next afternoon as the thundering grew louder. At one point I started tapping out for him to STOP and cover me up again! Thankfully that got backspaced before he saw it. The pair worked SO hard and I screamed with delight when a big chunk of concrete was levered away and I saw the bars of my cage. Now the real delicate work started as they chiselled and dug deeper using manual tools as they worked more out from inside the cage bars. One thump made the coffin creak and I saw Mary gesturing, Bob now realising he’d go through the wood if he wasn’t careful. The sight of Bob unlocking the cage reduced me to tears of joy. Each one was waved to the camera and I squealed when the last came off and was crying when the top bars were removed. But after hours of labour I sensed they were exhausted just as I could see the full length of the lid. If they carried on they’d be here a long time til I could get up from the casket. Then be taken upstairs and so on. ‘Hey guys, I know you’re close but if you’re getting tired then carry on tomorrow, yes? I don’t want you knackered and the bit getting me out of here will take a long time. Bob I can see you flexing that wrist. Have breaks… before you do some mischief.’ They cuddled and I saw Mary talking and agreement was reached. ‘OK sweetie, glad you understand and thanks for that, look forward to seeing you in the morning.’ I never slept that night, constantly flicking between cameras and movies heart leaping when I finally saw them reappearing. ‘Hi darling, hope you’re OK. We’re a lot better today so be patient. Think of that lovely bath waiting for you’ Mary wrote and I grinned, trying to ignore the fact that my body odour was starting to affect my nasal passages. Not a real stink but noticeable all the same. The hoist was brought in to lift me out. Mary warning the power was about to go out briefly. I held my breath obviously and sighed on feeling the coffin lurching upwards… stopping soon afterwards and everything returning, air and light, enabling me to watch as they swung me over onto the carpet. My eyes were streaming with tears as I heard the popping of the covers then the magical wrrring. “Brace yourself Sally, eyes closed please darling. We’re opening you up now.” Mary shouted and I did. CRAAACK! I was shuddering like anything as fresh air assaulted my nostrils. A hand touched mine and I clasped it… hairy, must be Bob’s and I cautiously tried to open one eye. “Ahhh… lights down please…” I squealed through the gag. Closing it again as the shock battered me, thankfully they understood and I heard Mary run for the wall and banging something. “OK honey, just a few torches aglow now. Try again.” This time was more successful and I was crying as I saw the two vague figures alongside me. They too were in tears and we held hands again. “There’s nothing left of you girl…” he exclaimed, stroking my torso and despite the fact I wanted out, just to be TOUCHED by a human again was enough. Listening as my restraints were unlocked one by one, pressure on my limbs relaxing but I dared not move just yet as it hurt so much. Now the important one and Bob placed fingers on the mask and slowly lifted it up. “Urrgghh…” I squealed as the gag slid out. Despite the fact I’d recently had a drink I was as dry as a bone. My tongue relieved to be able to stick it out! “Bloody hell… you look a mess!” I was told and somehow I grinned. A straw was shoved into me and I drained the whole lot in a couple of slurps. Remembering one of the stories I so slooowly tried to lift my head up… and failed! Mary massaging my arms and gradually I was able to lift my hands up. Wincing as the pain tore through me. “This isn’t going to work,” Bob said half an hour later as I wailed again on trying to sit up. For a moment I thought… and stared at him in shock. “Don’t be daft Sally, you’re not going back down OK?” he joked, reaching in and patting my trembling hands. I smiled wryly and Mary grinned as I got a kiss. We discussed what they would do and Bob left and returned with another drink, this time apparently laced with painkillers. I paused then knocked it back; soon feeling nothing, as my limbs just seemed to lose any sensation, this followed by the rest of me fading away. Bob having said it was the best way to get me out. What happened next was the thundering headache to beat all migraines I’d ever endured. Waking up in a bed in darkness as I realised my eyes were blindfolded. Wrists lightly bound in padded cuffs, these connected to a waist belt and for a moment I nearly panicked. “It’s OK sweetheart, I’m here hon,” Mary said as I called out that I was awake. Muscles screaming in pain and she quickly undid my arms. “I’ll turn the lights down before you finish,” she said next so I waited. Wriggling slightly, luxuriating in silk and I assumed she’d done this for me. Finally I slipped it off and looked up to see mum properly and it felt good as she leaned in to kiss me. Questions followed and Mary sat down and told me how they’d carried me upstairs where I’d been stripped and washed by mum alone then put to bed… two days ago! I’d slept solidly for thirty-six hours… wow! “Yeah, no wonder I feel shi… Oops, need to remember my manners now,” I chuckled and that got me a hug. Mary acknowledged this and allowed me to sit up, well she helped me, as I couldn’t quite manage that on my own. From here I could see my face in the dressing table mirror and I was appalled. Running both hands over my torso and I was concerned. “Wow, too skinny… not good.” I said and she agreed, saying once I could eat proper food that I needed to get back up to a healthier weight for my height. “Another week or so down there and you’d have been in REAL trouble young lady. I hope… this’ll be the last time you… it’s SO silly for you to keep hiding away like this. Please darling, don’t go down there again…” Taking my hands and kissing them. I knew she meant well but I sighed, trying not to look upset. “Yeah, I know, but it’s just the way I am Mary. Been like it my whole life as Bob’s probably said, yes?” She replied that they’d spent many hours discussing me, worried that I could need proper psychiatric care if this went too far, but hearing that I was adamant it’d not be happening. “No way, not gonna have someone poking round my head love… period. If you want I’ll talk to Milly or one of my other friends but please… just accept me for what I am. I’ll try to improve I promise.” She looked at me and finally nodded. “OK, I had to ask Sal, just to see what you’d say. I’ll hold you to your word though. Now it’s nearly lunchtime, fancy trying to get up?” I grinned and she fetched the kimono as I tried to swing my legs out, somehow succeeding and before long I was upright. Felt horrendous and Mary had to support me for a while as I was walked up and down the room but I was pleased to eventually get in and out of the bathroom unaided. We lurched downstairs and I nearly tripped over my nightie hem, Mary catching me well. Into the kitchen I went, mum behind me and Bob turned, a smile on his face. “Hiya sweetheart, welcome back,” he grinned and we came close for a hug and kiss. Then I headed for the table and just made it. Flopping into the seat as my head started spinning. Coffee was served into a beaker with straw and it went down a treat. They left me alone in there for a while with a newspaper, the pair obviously talking somewhere else but they did come back an hour later and Bob made lunch for us all. That was the start of my rehabilitation, a great omelette dinner following, I didn’t even know dad could cook one! “All this time you’ve kept that quiet…” I joked and they both chuckled and gradually they debriefed me as to what had gone on, both their honeymoon, and I remembered to ask Bob how his wrist was. “It’s OK Sally. But now you’re our most important worry. Need to get you fit and healthy again. I know what you and Mary discussed upstairs… and despite my best thoughts I’m not going to close the room up. Looks like we’re going to have to accept you as things are. We’ll let you use your coffin for trialing stuff or the odd weekend. But young lady, if you want to go down and be caged too there then the minimum burial time will be a month… no less. Sorry but it’s bloody exhausting digging you out each time. We ached as bad as you did yesterday…” I bridled at that and he waited for the explosion, which never came as I suspected he was testing me. I surrendered and gave them both hugs before asking to go back upstairs before I fell asleep again. Mary took me and after looking through their trip photos I was put to bed again, this time unbound. Over the next few months I was good as gold as I recovered, thankfully with little side effects. “Even your head is getting better,” Bob quipped one day. My friends were glad I was back, Milly especially and we Skype each other at least twice a week. Her relationship with the fellow Californian hasn’t lasted, he got busted for something serious and she was very upset. Least I was able to understand that, Mary saw us talking that night for hours but Mil at least was able to smile by the end of it. “Thanks love, glad to be a help, just wish I could meet you over there sometime.” I replied, hoping that I could have another holiday in the States out of it. They finally allowed me to get a part-time volunteer job at the local library and that did wonders for my self-esteem, way better than they imagined. Mind you it’s probably the noisiest place of learning in our town as I chat to other ladies. We giggle watching blokes furtively going into the ‘adult’ section… if only they knew that the primly dressed twenty-something manning the desk has ‘appeared in Vegas!’ Didn’t even need to go into the coffin room though I knew Bob was tidying it up. Smoothing out concrete edging, saying that ‘if’ there was a next time it’d just be soil. Eventually curiosity won the battle and I persuaded him to let me in one afternoon while Mary was out for a reason I didn’t know. The carpet and a load of wooden planks were pulled back to reveal his labours. Looking down I was pleased the cage was still there, noticing it WAS anchored after all, heavy bolts at each corner. The sides sloped up from the plinth, a proper staircase at the opposite end from the pipe channel. Bob led me down and I patted the cage, smiling at an old friend and he grinned at me. “Fancy a quick go?” he asked and I paused. “Well… quick is a month yes?” he nodded and I pouted royally. “Not fair, you teasing me…” but I was smiling and went to climb out. “It’s a month IF you’re in the coffin Sally, but just in the cage, well that is different.” I stared at him and he flipped up the latches then opened the top and peered in then pointed. “I’ll let you have an hour inside Sally before tea.” That got him a hug and I hurried upstairs to use my bathroom. Arriving back to see he was down there with a box of restraints, locks and so on. Blankets and pillow laid there for ‘comfort’ as he attached some manacles to each corner.

Subterranean Sally 4

Thu, 09 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Subterranean Sally 3)

Part Four

Subterranean Sally

Thu, 05 Feb 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Part One

I knew my father kept an old coffin at his house having used it regularly for a Halloween stunt when I was a teenager. Myself in a frock and shut inside the old thing as he and some mates wheeled it around the streets. ‘Rising from the dead’ and scaring the crap out of people, all in the name of charity mind and as a family we’d raised a fortune over the years. Now with my mother gone and me having moved home to look after him it had become a chance to play a bit more. Bob didn’t mind and occasionally he took part. One memorable day he allowed me to wear one of mum’s dresses then locked me inside! I can safely say my heart was pounding! So when I read a series of stories on Gromet about girls who liked dressing up and being shut in coffins I decided I wanted to do it again. Showing the site to dad…only to find he’d known about it for years! And Mum too…was a serious addict and so he told me a lot of what they’d done. “We played a lot more than I care to admit, but nice to see you’re not too sweet and innocent to understand!” Talking to Bob one day over breakfast about this he grinned and said he’d made a few adjustments to it recently but would not elaborate, even when I nudged him. “You’ll find out soon enough young lady,” he said. I smiled inside but made sure he couldn’t read my thoughts. With today being my day off…it was gonna be playtime… Once he’d gone to work I did all the housework and washing which took all morning, prepared the slow-cooker for our dinner tonight and so on. But after my lunch I realised that I couldn’t put it off…I HAD to see what those adjustments were. Hurrying into the basement I locked the door before approaching the coffin. Flipping the lid up I stared…and was amazed. He’d certainly worked hard as I looked down, seeing the metalwork now installed at three places inside. One set of loops was for the ankles; the second would be for the waist with small wrist loops each side, while the last was obviously a collar to go round my neck. I was impressed, seeing they were padded, the same colour as the satin lining…and I wanted to try them out. A tug proved the loops were all locked and I groaned, as he must have known I’d come down so secured everything to stop me trying. Turning away I was amazed…and delighted to see a bunch of keys hanging nearby from a hook! Surely these were not for…but a close examination proved that they were! Nervously I placed one in the collar and twisted… Clunk! A real solid sound and I shuddered as the collar lifted up, it was 3cm steel and gleamed almost like my eyes were probably doing. Pushing it down then turning that key hearing the clunk again. Soon the others were unlocked and to test myself a bit I leaned in and placed a wrist into the loop by the belt. Flipping the top across it gripped firmly, the leather padding cool but tight on my skin. Another clunk as I locked it and by now my breathing was shallowing! I couldn’t wait and hurried upstairs to use the loo then get changed into something better than shorts and T-shirt. My wardrobe isn’t that ‘girlie’ as I work in an office where staid trouser-suits are the norm. It stops the truck drivers ogling my legs too, something I’ve hated forever and a day. But today was a ‘me’ day so dress it was, my favourite off-white number, calf length and lovely in silk, capped sleeves and everything. Cost me £200, and I have three of them, one is black but worth every cent, the 3-inch heels that go with them are nice if not comfortable for that long. Quickly I got dressed, being this naughty I was soon wearing stockings too. A slip inside then I zipped myself into the frock. Strapping the shoes on I was soon strutting downstairs and back to the basement. The door was locked again, keys tossed onto the bench and I headed for the coffin. Carrying my penis gag and a blindfold too to heighten my bondage experience. While Bob of course knew of my bondage fetish I naturally had never let him tie me up, the coffin yes but no more. Donna however had loved it and my parents spent many an hour down here, so now I guess daughters inherit all good traits from their mothers! Firstly I eased myself into the coffin, making sure the lid was folded right back onto the floor, settling my ass just below the belt and easing both ankles into their loops but not yet locking them as I tidied the folds of my dress. I could already feel wetness amidships and was glad I’d donned a second set of panties. Then I lay back and rested my head onto the satin cushion, seeing the thick steel loop sticking up to my right with the belt one visible as well because it’s longer. He’d measured this perfectly as my neck rested in the base of the collar. Slowly I reached down and lowered the belt, having to suck in a bit, as it wouldn’t quite meet the base. So to make sure I got the effect…I needed to lock it! Getting out for a moment I pondered, whether to finally ask Bob to do it tonight or just have a self-bondage session now…and I could not stand the thought of having to wait another 3 hours for him to return! Soon I was back inside and this time I locked my ankles into the loops. Sure that they felt tighter once I heard the clicks, guess my overwrought imagination… once I’d tidied my dress I lay back again, then realised the gag and blindfold were outside. Grumbling I reached over the edge and retrieved both, applying the gag and doing my hair once lying flat again. Now was a big moment as I eased the belt shut and locked it. The band was firmly pressing into me and I shuddered then reached for the collar. That too was secured and I was happy, then tried to lock my left wrist into the cuff, but couldn’t reach or see what I was doing. So I undid the loop around my neck and sat up. Now I wanted to lock everything but of course would not be able to do both wrists…or could I? Spending a few moments blundering about and I sighed. So freed myself and went for another bathroom visit and drink while thinking about what lay beneath my feet. But I just couldn’t stop and an hour late I was once more settling into the coffin and running through a checklist. Ankles locked. Left wrist locked. Belt locked. Gag on. Blindfold on. So I reached up and secured the collar then removed the keys and having found the right tape marked one placed it into the lock above where my other wrist would go. Then I shuddered and laid my arm into the loop and by twisting my fingers was able to snap the metal over the top. It rested fine and I imagined the key turning…ohh lovely and I grinned behind the gag as my middle digit felt the edge over to…and TOUCHED the barrel of the key! I’d forgotten where the key was in relation to the wristcuffs then remembered it was over to the side because the lock fed into the loop. So could it mean? And I paused…then did it. Rubbing my finger along it, pressing as hard as I could, feeling resistance…then it moved… CLUNK!

Subterranean Sally 3

Thu, 05 Feb 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part two

Part Three

One that I thought was going well over the next six months or so. Mary was becoming a frequent visitor to the house. In fact one day I’d arrived back from work expecting them to be home but Bob was alone. Querying this he seemed surprised then admitted she’d gone dress shopping. “Not for THAT type of dress love…,” he said quickly enough but I suspected an announcement might be sooner than later. Downstairs too was becoming interesting. Not just Dad and Mary, but Ms Harrison and myself! I’d surrendered my vibrator to her one morning, spending the rest of the next two hours regretting this. “Come on love, just one more for the sisterhood, surely you can take it…” she muttered as I hung there blown away by a series of explosive ones! While she didn’t understand my coffin and the ideas behind it she didn’t mind if I played in it. The two of them locked me in one afternoon and I lay there listening as he took her circuit training, round the playroom rather than a gym. Over the next what seemed to me like hours he tickled, thrashed, more tickling then finally vibrated her to a climax! Her squealing woke me up from a snooze! Once I thought it long enough I quietly knocked on the lid (my wrists were not secured) and Bob released his girl. Me looking at a tired Mary wrapped in blankets and asleep on the bondage bed. We cuddled and I asked if I should free her. Bob cruelly shook his head no then carefully padlocked the cage shut with my assistance. Leaving her cellphone dangling off the bars. Upstairs much later on I received a call from a desperate lady who needed the loo! They got engaged on Christmas Day, fifteen months after our USA trip. Bob having asked me first if I minded. Of course I didn’t, she loved us both now and I was in tears when he popped the question after a great dinner made by me and she’d said yes. “Least you’ll be able to remember that date,” I laughed and got hugs for that. The wedding was planned for the summer but I was amazed when in March Bob announced he was selling his company and retiring. He’s only 55 I thought and was a little dismayed at that. “Oh, I thought you’d be happy that I’d be here. As you’ll be leaving too, we’re gonna have more than enough money for years to come, yes?” I wasn’t however. My role might be small in the company but I’d earned it on merit and was proud of that. While being ‘the boss’ girl had helped there were some who’d thought otherwise but I proved to them that I was capable, now he was taking it away. Didn’t he understand that I wanted to earn my own money, also you easily get bored if playtime is all the time and we had a frosty talk that afternoon and he groaned when I got stroppy. “I’ll help Mary with her work as she wants me and Milly to model the restraints for the calendar, but I’m not leaving, OK?” He sighed and nodded then left me be. My pigheadedness came back to haunt me. Within two months of him leaving I was forced out, devastated to have been told I was being demoted to secretary rather than the managerial position I occupied. The new owner regarded women in engineering companies as ‘tea-girls and typists’ so if I didn’t comply then tough luck. A long tearful chat with Mary and Bob that night was enough and my notice went in next morning. So now unemployed but after moping about getting in Bob’s way I decided to have a weekend in the coffin to do some thinking alone. He seemed quick to comply and helped set things up on the Friday, the drinks and stuff much tastier now I’d worked out how to get it right. Also teaching Mary how it worked. The lid went down and he screwed me closed. I half hoped he’d bury me but instead shifted the casket to one side and they didn’t use the basement at all. A nice quiet weekend followed and I was much happier when freedom came on the Sunday night. Mary moved in two months before the big day as she had offers for her place. A fat cheque landed in our accounts even after the eye-watering tax bill and she was quick to see I got a share. Grateful for that we went to for a little dinner to celebrate. Both of us looked great, me in my black dress, Mary in the midnight blue outfit worn the night we’d had in San Francisco. After the meal I bumped into a couple of former work colleagues and decided to allow the others to go home while I stayed out for an hour or so. “You behave yourself, young lady,” he grinned waggling a finger and Mary chuckled. “Nearly thirty now, I can cope! Besides I’ve had my regulation two drinks, I’m only on the coffee now,” I grinned and waved them off, Margie and Katryn waiting patiently by the door. We went back in, sat down with a steaming jug of best Colombian brew and I caught up on news from ‘the coalface’ Marge saying it was bad there now, both women were thinking of quitting. “You got out just in time Sally love, we’re going to give it another month then I‘m out too. Kat will probably follow,” and I saw her nodding. A tray of cocktails arrived twenty minutes later and I looked at the others, none of us had ordered and I was puzzled til the bartender said three guys in the corner had sent them across. We turned and saw my nemesis from the company and two of Bob’s engineers, one who’d left shortly before me, Maurice raising his pint glass in salute. “Guess it’s a ‘no-hard-feelings’ round,” I joked and the others grinned. We dithered as they were rather OTT for us, blue green and lastly an orange one with cherries and stuff jutting out on sticks. “Girlie drinks, for girlies I’ll bet they’re probably saying,” Kat joked and we all giggled. “Well, a shame to waste them…girlies…” I smiled so picked the green one, Marge went for blue leaving Kat, with orange. “Bottom’s up…” Katryn said then I daintily sipped mine, hoping it’d be some sort of mint flavouring. I rolled it over my tongue… “Oh bloody hell…” I wheezed, trying not to cough, “It’s foul, what the heck is it…?” and Marge stared at me having knocked half of hers back. “Water…quickly Sal…” she muttered and thankfully this place has iced jugs of the stuff on a central table. I came back and she grabbed a glass and put that back in one. “I’m gonna complain ‘bout these,” Katryn growled and I was nodding, water being drunk now as I tried to get the taste out of my mouth. Margie sat there staring at the remains of her drink and I thought she was shaking. “You alright Ma…?” I began and she shook her head. “No, I feel rubbish…” she muttered and I turned to look at Maurice’s gathering to see what their reaction was, only to see they’d gone! The bartender wiping down the table as he cleared the glasses. We needed help and I went across, not feeling that brilliant myself now as I reached him. “Excuse me buddy,” I said, tapping his arm. “Those drinks you gave us that these guys bought, I think they’ve been spiked. My mates are in trouble,” and he turned to look in surprise. Seeing me standing there, looking peaky and his face fell as he peered over my shoulder at Marge who was leaning back, eyes closed with Kat coughing too. “OK missy, you go sit down, I’ll call for an ambulance, OK?” I nodded and thanked him, wobbling back to the corner, falling into my seat and I looked back to see him on the phone, waving off a customer who wanted serving. He came across with a bucket and towels, just in time as Margie grabbed it and threw up, thankfully straight into it. “Right, done the call love, they’re a bit busy so it’ll be as fast as poss, OK?” Well it wasn’t but at least he was serious and I thanked him, asking the guy to shoo off a couple of people watching us. He did so and they left, one saying women shouldn’t be drinking if they couldn’t handle it! I told him in no certain terms to clear off and a few people stared at me. Feeling shameful seeing Kat was crying, Margie slumped against the cushions and she really was shaking now. I was pleased to hear sirens getting closer and soon I was wincing as they were right outside, the lights flashing SO brightly. Two guys thundered in, hi-viz jackets a welcome sight as their bags dropped onto the sofas and they began working on us, naturally Margie was first while an arriving police officer sat down and tried talking to me about what happened. I wasn’t really in the mood, my mouth was dry despite the water but I gradually told him. Naming the three guys but the copper said he didn’t believe me! “You girls just cannot handle your booze! I’ve seen it too often in this town.” Even the bartender got brushed off when he tried to confirm what I’d said was the truth. Raising his voice and the officer told him to back off. I was getting anxious now, tears not far away because of his attitude. “Think you better ring his station, get a real one here, not a guy on a power trip” I said to the barman who did his best not to grin. Only for officer idiot to reach over and jab a finger into my chest telling me to shut up. However it went further forward than he expected and it poked me on the nipple. “You dirty bastard!” I shouted, making more people turn and stare. I also swatted his hand away and he jumped to his feet while I staggered to mine. “Right, you’re under arrest love…” he snapped, reaching for his cuffs and even the paramedics looked up from their work on Katryn and one protested, “she’s done nothing wrong, leave her be…” But before I could react he’d cuffed my left arm and was twisting it behind me. I squealed and he grinned then grabbed my other arm, slapping it in and securing them tight. Now I really screamed as he pushed me down onto the sofa, my head striking the side and I felt faint now as he stood there warning me not to struggle or else. Getting on his radio to try calling for reinforcements. The only help that arrived was for me. Several guys came over having realised what was happening, two of them grabbing the officer and wrestling him to the floor and now it really kicked off. Someone, an older lady even helped me sit down, my head pounding and I felt sick, but with the damn cuffs on could do nothing except cry and she wiped my eyes with a tissue, that bit of kindness probably stopping me freaking out. A hulking great guy found the handcuff keys in the struggling policeman’s uniform and freed me, saying he was actually a fellow officer, a Detective Inspector no less but from a different station and he’d sort this out. Showing the ambulanceman his warrant card and Jason, the kindly medic nodded to me. “It’s gen missy and thanks Sir, now lets get you treated love.” My wrists had marks on from the cuffs and he fed me painkillers or something like that. Making me drink way too much liquid too and I desperately needed the loo. The lady who’d done my face took me there, turned out she was the D.I’s wife and we vanished into the disabled cubicle where I vomited explosively into the bowl. I didn’t realise that was the intention, to flush the drugs out of my system but she waited till my heaving stopped, turning round and I paused… “I’ll wait outside honey,” she chuckled and stepped away, closing the door allowing me privacy. Emerging after a clean up, with empty bowels I grinned tiredly but was worried about what Bob and Mary would say when they found out. Mrs D.I helped me reaffix my slap then led me back to the bar. Most of the crowd had gone, so had Margie and Kat in the ambulance but I shuddered on seeing more policemen there, convinced they would arrest me again. But my helper’s husband was doing a sterling job, having witnessed the whole thing and soon I watched my second nemesis being cuffed and led away by others. I gave a statement then asked about getting a taxi home, only for Bob and Mary to come in moments later and they looked aghast. I burst into tears again, rushing into their arms and hugging both tightly to me. The D.I sat us down and assured me that no further action was being taken against me, but that it was unlikely that they’d be able to prove it was Maurice or his cohorts who’d drugged our drinks. Even the barman was appalled, he’d deposited the tray on their table, only to be called five minutes later and told to bring them to ours. “It HAD to be them, Sir,” he stormed and I nodded in agreement but just wanted to go home and forget about it. Mary drove us back and I thanked them with hugs before fleeing in tears to my room. Bob later knocked on the door but I refused to open it and he said if I needed him I just had to ask. Right now I wanted to be alone and politely said so, blew a kiss then threw myself into bed. That event really battered my self-confidence, way more than the demotion. I was convinced everyone had it in for me and panicked when asked to go to the shops. Mary did a magnificent job and after two weeks of ‘house arrest’ she coaxed me into town to pick up the dress I’d be wearing for their wedding. Not quite a bridemaids’ one but an outfit to do me justice. The smile I had on modelling it in the shop proved that maybe I was getting over it now. Not so when we got confirmation that the inquiries were being dropped and I began to worry again. Even Bob was starting to get concerned. They were due on honeymoon three days after the wedding, but if I couldn’t get a grip then they might have to cancel it. “Well how else can we get round it?” he sighed in the kitchen. I managed not to throw a strop and said I would consider staying in my coffin for that time til they returned. Mary was amazed at the idea. “But it’s almost three weeks darling, surely your food and stuff would run out?” she said but I shook my head. “No, I’ve been tweaking the system for a long time, testing it for ages. It’s why I haven’t used it for a month while checking out ideas. I know it’ll be fine, trust me guys.” They sent me outside to cut the lawn and discussed it and on return an hour later gave their consent. But suggested I Skype Milly first to ask her opinion. Mary knew I talked often with the Californian so that night I called her. Upset to discover Mil couldn’t get a visa to attend the wedding having been invited so commiserations were offered. We talked for ages and I said what I’d proposed. “Well if that’s your way of dealing with it Sal, and your folks okay it then I guess it’s a yes from me too. You’re a wacko love, just let me know when you ‘return’ OK?” I agreed, waved her goodbye and switched off. I went downstairs and looked at them. Mary knew and came across and hugged me. “OK honey, we’ll do it.” Bob nodding and I challenged him to make me safer than ever before. “Yes sweetheart, I’ll try to do that. I promise.” The wedding was a quiet affair. Just them and me, two of my girlfriends and some of Bob and Mary’s closest acquaintances at the registry office. I managed not to sob as I handed the rings over, feeling nice in my new dress and heels. Once the event was done we had the reception at a local pub and soon they retired to the house, I went to a hotel with my friends to give them space and this time we managed not to get in any trouble! Since deciding to ‘go down’ for the time required I’d been asked not to go below stairs. Bob worked tirelessly alone doing heaven knows what. Mary and I went out frequently at his request sometimes all day and I’d love to know what he was up to. But a promise of ‘no peeking’ was to be obeyed or I’d have to stay up. Now the day dawned and Mary helped me dress. And what an outfit too, not a real bridal gown but a formal silk one all the same. No train or veils but it looked stunning and I cried when she first showed it to me. “I read the stories love, it’s the best I could do…” she said and got buried in hugs. Make-up and hair followed then finest underwear was supplied and she allowed me to fit the tubes alone. I was trembling as finally I was eased into the frock and it was drawn around me and zipped to my neck, lastly stepping into three-inch heels. Going to my dressing table I grabbed one of Donna’s favourite lockets from my jewellery box and slipped the necklace around. Dropping it inside the dress where it nestled into my cleavage. Mary took many photos then showed me them and I nearly wept again. “Don’t you dare smudge…” she joked, holding hands as I promised her I’d be alright. “I know darling, its going to be painful for us to be apart but I understand.”

Headgear from Hell 2

Mon, 08 Dec 2014 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part one

Part 2: At Inga’s Mercy

Ira already had the feeling that Bettina had prepared him for a domination session that would make his first day seem easy. Inga locked the chain from the second alcove’s arch to his collar post as she removed Bettina’s from the first. She was a solid, muscular woman of about 35, with broad cheeks & a diminutive, but graceful nose with a straight bridge & slightly upturned tip. She had long blond hair that hung in two braided pigtails, & she wore an all black well polished latex catsuit stretched to its limits. Her powerful biceps & calves glimmered in the fiery light of the hallway. “A tight-skinned shiny pork sausage with an attitude, built like a brick shithouse” thought Ira to himself. He wasn’t exactly enthralled to be her prisoner, but, all things considered, he submitted to her somewhat deliberate demeanor.

Cousin Laura's Revenge 2

Thu, 01 Mar 2012 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Cousin Laura’s Revenge)

Part Two

Friday, May 24, 2002

Mike was awakened at 8am by tickling on his feet and his face. As he laughed, he realized that two hands were at his left foot (one holding the toes back, and one scratching at the sole), two hands were similarly at his right foot, and two more hands at his face (one tickling him under the chin, and one grasping his hair, holding his head still). Although blindfolded, he realized that somebody had joined his two cousins. He jerked in his bonds in surprise.

Samantha's Burial

Wed, 11 Jan 2012 00:00:00 +0000

“Shhh!”

“Why?” Samantha asked. “You said no one was here”

“No one is here,” said Tony, “But we still don’t want to make a lot of noise, OK?” Still, Samantha couldn’t completely stop giggling. There was something silly about breaking into a mortuary in the middle of the night, just to see what being in a coffin was like.

At last, Tony got the back door open. If the rest of the place was as creepy as this back basement door, Samantha thought, she might change her mind. They tiptoed down a narrow corridor that smelled of must and chemicals. Then they emerged into a larger room. Tony struck a match, and lit the gaslights.

Samantha's Burial

Wed, 11 Jan 2012 00:00:00 +0000

“Shhh!”

“Why?” Samantha asked. “You said no one was here”

Dumping Her

Sun, 23 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000

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.

Dumping Her

Sun, 23 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Georgia had been late home from work again but was still keen to play a game with her boyfriend, Kev.

Charles' Funeral

Thu, 22 Sep 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Charles Prendergast was happy with the way he had managed to swindle Terry Higgins out of three hundred thousand pounds. He had been so successful; he had remained anonymous and undetected for the past two years and hadn’t been found by Terry, even though a twenty thousand pound price tag was put out for anyone who found him. Terry was the local villain. He was known to be extremely dangerous. But he couldn’t report this theft as that is where he got it from in the first place.

Charles' Funeral

Thu, 22 Sep 2011 00:00:00 +0000

The End of Cynthia Harder

Fri, 26 Aug 2011 00:00:00 +0000

The half-naked woman sat on the iron cot, giving no indication that she knew he was standing on the other side of the barred door. She wore only a black lace plunge bra, opera hose and satin panties. Her elbows, in the long black kidskin gloves, were crossed casually on her stockinged knee. Her feet, in shiny black pumps with six inch heels, were spread lackadaisically on the straw-covered stone floor. Her blonde hair swung down over her heavily made-up face.

My Only Horror Film

Thu, 31 Mar 2011 00:00:00 +0000

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.

My Only Horror Film

Thu, 31 Mar 2011 00:00:00 +0000

For the background to the characters in ths story you can read Ken’s Brithday Gift and Bondage Barbie Deluxe

Laid To Rest

Wed, 05 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Finding someone to full fill a fantasy or fetish, if you may, was harder than I anticipated. I met many single women online, but it seemed every time I brought up wanting to be buried alive, it wasn’t long after that, she would want to end our relationship. Then I found myself going through the singles web ads online again. When on one such occasion I came across an ad that said, looking for someone to help pay my bills, will do anything for you in return. I liked the honesty in the ad, as to who she was looking for, so I replied to it.

Laid To Rest

Wed, 05 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Jesse in Jeopardy 2

Sun, 29 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000

continued from part 1

Part 2

The questions about her situation four people could answer. These being the owners of the ‘Western Approaches Society’ a secret organisation that few people apart from their many customers for custom built bondage furniture knew about.

So imagine Barry McIvor’s surprise when their company secretary, Moira, had told her boss a week ago that she’d discovered an amazing girl right here on the island, showing them Jesse’s diary. “To think that pretty lassie assumed that I could earn enough running the B&B rather than what we do here, nor the boat to keep you and the boys solvent. It was bloody hard not to show I knew exactly what she was doing. Just managed to bluff it. Honestly, kids these days are so gullible. But Barry, she alone found the cage, tested it… and to be honest I think she’s got the sort of attitude we could do something with. She’s got one heck of an imagination too. No way are your standard cages anything like the old one Graham had in the Smithy. If I’d known it, and all the other stuff was there then we could have got the Society some serious cash. The average ‘dom’ would love something like this. Billy pet, how’s she doing in there?”

Jesse in Jeopardy Part 2

Sun, 29 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000

continued from part 1 Part 2

Burial of my Fantasy

Fri, 16 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000

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!

Burial of my Fantasy

Fri, 16 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000

Susan Dumps her Boyfriend

Mon, 03 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000

I didn’t know what my girlfriend, Susan, was up to. We were both into bondage and she used to spend hours on her sewing machine making me hobble skirts that she could lock me into. But she would not tell me what she was working on this time. All I knew was that she had measured all my body. It left me in suspense. When I asked her, she told me that I was not to be impatient. It would be the best bondage outfit yet.

Susan Dumps her Boyfriend

Mon, 03 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000

A Halloween Transformation

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 00:00:00 +0000

A Halloween Special 2009 Tale

Sally and her band of friends were bored. They were all aged between sixteen and eighteen. Sally was eighteen on Halloween. There was nothing to do in that part of town at all. The buses stopped early, so they could not even go to see a film. They usually hung around quite bored. Which upset the neighbours as the complete gang of thirty youths was quite intimidating to them. But in reality, Sally and the group meant no harm at all! They just wanted somewhere to meet!

Halloween House Party

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 00:00:00 +0000

A Halloween Special 2009 Tale

“Bill. Junk mail. Bill, bill, junk, junk. Why is it I always only get bills and junk mail through the post? No one sends me a nice cheque” thought Sam as he carried on going through the pile of letters he had picked up. “Bill, to the occupant of the house, must be junk. Bill, junk, junk. Wait a minute, that letter to the occupant was written by hand. Oh well, I will have a coffee and read it before dumping it”

The Black Coffins

Sun, 30 Aug 2009 00:00:00 +0000

They came from nowhere.

On that ordinary day, millions of people woke to find something most unusual.

There were black coffins. Millions of them. In every city, every farm, every suburb and neighborhood, in every street they stood. Millions of black coffins.

When you walked out into the street on that morning and saw the coffins for yourself, you thought it was some kind of prank. That seemed the most likely explanation, and your neighbors agreed with you.

Miko’s Mummification

Sat, 17 Jan 2009 00:00:00 +0000

Miko was an ordinary 19-year-old Japanese girl, except she had one secret, and that was that she loved mummification bondage. She would often get together with her sister, Makasaki, and spend entire nights wrapping each of them. But Miko had a very shocking surprise coming to her in this night’s session.

When Makasaki asked Miko if she wanted to start her session early, she agreed. They both went into the basement, where they usually did their sessions, and started to work. Makasaki wanted to use duct tape for this session.

Mary's Mummy

Fri, 31 Oct 2008 00:00:00 +0000

A Halloween Special 2008 Tale

Chet and Penny were hiding behind the door to the back work area. The lights were out and Chet had a syringe in his hand.

Penny whispered, “Are you sure that stuff is safe?”

Chet look at the syringe. “Yea it will keep her out for about 3hrs. She will wake up with a headache.”

“I still don’t know if we should do it this way.” Penny mumbled, “Are you sure.”

Final Farewell

Fri, 03 Aug 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Sometimes it just happens. Passions cool. Personalities drift. Relationships change. Sometimes people just stop loving someone, even when the other still loves them. So it was with us. I still loved Master. But he no longer loved me. Cared for me, yes.

Looked after me still, yes. But the desire, the interest in me was gone. He never had to say it, but it was there, after nearly 10 years this slave no longer could command his interest. Used up. Discarded. And I knew that I could do nothing to change that fact, or even challenge it. After all I was his slave, and if he was no longer needing my submission, then that was his right. But because he still cared for me, and because he knew me so well, he listened, and with out argument agreed to my proposal. Slavery is for life. And we had a contract, to be broken by death only. But this was real, real life. You can’t just sell a slave. You can’t just “snuff” them. That is fantasy, and I have no desire to die. But something was needed, something to denote; this marks the end of that life. It is finished. So I offered. Death without dying, Mourning without grief. Freedom from contract but still in slavery. He agreed. Besides, he said, it would be a great party, a good scene. And a final test of my submission. We made our plans. Gathered our friends. Came the day. It begins simply, My deepest friend Mary, fellow slave, agrees to help. We are in the parlour, to one side of the main room, where already a low murmur of voices rises. I am shaking badly. “Are you sure you want this?” she asks, “ It seems such a risk” I nod. My mouth is too dry to speak. “ Ok, let’s do it” I dress, a full-bodied wedding dress, white and flowing. It has a stiff bodice that squeezes my breasts, lace. White seamed stockings, suspender. No panties, as a slave requires none, ever. Very high, impossibly high heels. I have to lean on the wall. But I won’t be walking far. A veil. I have never married, and briefly regret that I never have. But I quickly dismiss this thought. My life has been one for the rod. A white leather belt is padlocked around my waist. Tight. Today was the 1st day in 10 years I have not been bound in some way; I welcome the belt, welcome back my natural state. Wrist cuffs, white, tight, attaching to the belt at the front. Mary laces a beautiful bunch of carnations about my wrists, they hide my bonds, my hands. Mary fusses. She smiles. “Ready?” Yes. I have no other words. Thank you Mary, and If I never see you again, never forget how you helped me. The gag is a simple white ball gag, it seals my silence. I bite down, oh so used to the feel and taste of the submission it denotes. Mary takes the lead from my Cleopatra collar, and leads me to the chamber. The murmurs grow silent. I stare at my Master, looking deep, but there is no love there, just amusement. I am such a silly slave. I’m sure he can feel the heat I generate. I kneel at his feet. He speaks to the crowd, a short speech, retelling of a slaves training by her master, of her collar, her vow. He explains what today means. So it is finished. Then he turns to me, and addresses me. “Do you Slave accept your fate? Do you place your life into the hands of an unknown one here? Knowing that you are a failed slave, failed in retaining the interest of your master.” I nod. “Then I remove your collar, and consign you to your fate” How I delighted I was the day we had purchased it, when Sax Leather was just a shop - not a symbol of our lifestyle. But thats over now. I cry a small tear as my neck sees daylight for the first time in oh so many years. To lose his love is one thing. To fail as a slave is another. I will understand if nobody feels I am worthy of restoration. I stand. My coffin is startling white. It is not a casket, and it is not opulent. Just a traditional white box, cheaply lined. Only a silk cushion gives it any softness, and they hardly offset the stark white straps that festoon its interior. But the lid is glass. And 2 small hose connections incourougsly break the picture at one end, they disappear into the trolley the coffin rests upon. The banks of flowers surround it, and I know hide the hoses and small fan that will connect to the surface. He nods towards it. Now that the moment has come, I feel afraid. In fantasy it seemed so easy. Now it just induces a terrible freezing of my will. How I wish he would just hug me just once more. But that is finished. Until I (if I ever) wear a mans collar again, I am dead to the world. And it is time for my burial. I step into the coffin, lay down, it squeezes my shoulders, my head rubs the end, and my heels scrape the other. Mary fusses about as I stare sightless, at the ceiling. My dress billows, flows, it rustles as I settle into place. I feel nothing as the straps begin to hold me down, make me as one with my box. Fantasy will not contain real panic. I have ashamed my status enough, I do not intend to let panic, if it comes, to destroy my beauty. Flowers fill the gaps, the scent is overpowering. The lid is lowered; it presses the flowers down, almost touches my chest, sits millimetres from my nose. I hear the sound of the screws tightening the lid into place. The glass is thick, and heavy. It says finality. Abruptly all sound ceases, only that of my breathing fills this box. Confined now maybe forever. I can feel a gentle breeze at my head. Three days the air will last. If I am not rescued by then, not felt worthy of the effort to dig six feet of dirt away, then I will not require anymore. I am a failed slave. The cart moves, wheeled through master’s house. Familiar roofs. I sense our friends following. We enter the outside air; travel across his manicured lawn; the box trembles and wobbles as we make our way across the uneven surface. I tremble with it. The sun beats down, and the glass heats me. I sweat. Reality of what is happening begins to grip me, involuntarily my body rebels. I can go no where, I cannot move, a white vision of lace and flowers, so stark against the dark hole I know we are now parked against. Familiar faces of fellow slaves come into view. They will not look at me, one I see is crying. I feel my coffin lifted, I sense an interruption to the airflow, then it resumes. There is a long pause; I wobble, for a moment I am afraid that I will be dropped. I know that my box is being aligned with rails leading to the bottom, that the discreet hoses are being connected. Master speaks. “When a slave submits her will to him, she becomes his product. To do as he will. I renounce ownership of this slave, and in this ceremony I proclaim the disposal of an unwanted product. However, we bury this product today, in the hope that someone here will think it worth restoration. We bury her in the hope of a restorated life.” I’m lowered into the hole, jerking slightly, descending from light into shadow, heat into cold. My grave will be cold, cold, cold. Bottom. I dug this hole, and made sure that my head will be higher than my feet. It is small comfort. A pause. I look at the square of sky above me. More flowers fall on the glass. I look desperately for my master’s face, but never see it. And now I know for sure. Even this last act, this last submission was not enough for him. I truly am lost, forever. I close my eyes in sorrow. The moment catches me by surprise, I never see the earth fall, just open my eyes to the thunder of the falling dirt. Darkness. Instant darkness, only a glimmer of light towards my right cheek. More noise, and it is gone. Frantically I listen to each load, each one fainter than the last. My heart beats frantically. Now I try to scream, it strangles in my throat. The silence, darkness is complete. My heart beats like a drum. My muscles are tense as solid timber, as solid as the lid above me. I know now I am buried six foot down, a patch of disturbed dirt in an anonymous backyard. Already I feel the stiffness that impossible bondage brings settle into my limbs. I know I am totally, completely held in captivity as I have never been before, a position only one born for bondage can understand, now totally dependant on a stranger to save me. If one ever does. I orgasm. I have made my choice. If I am worthy I will see the light again, if not, then this slaves submission is complete.

Girls Gone Kinky

Tue, 02 May 2006 00:00:00 +0000

“Girls Gone Kinky” the radio announcer said.

“Tomorrow night at the Johnson warehouse, ‘Girls gone Kinky’ will be shooting their Halloween edition. Free admission to girls in costumes. Door open at 6:00 Happy hour all night long. Cash awards to the lucky girls chosen to be in the video.”

Sue turned off the car radio and thought about attending the out of season event. It was after all spring break weekend and she had not done anything wild all week or even semester. She felt it was time she cut loose. Halloween in March sounded like the perfect event and a shot at some money wouldn’t be all bad either.

A Final Farewell

Sat, 03 Dec 2005 00:00:00 +0000

Entry from the S(A)X leather Bondage Story competition 2005

Sometimes it just happens

Passions cool

Personalities drift

Relationships change

Sometimes people just stop loving someone, even when the other still loves them

So it was with us

I still loved Master. But he no longer loved me.

Cared for me, yes.

Looked after me still, yes.

But the desire, the interest in me was gone. He never had to say it, but it was there, after nearly 10 years this slave no longer could command his interest.

Final Farewell

Sat, 03 Dec 2005 00:00:00 +0000

A New Goddess Is Born

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

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

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

Jesse in Jeopardy Part 2

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

(story continues from Jesse in Jeopardy)

Part 2

Subterranean Sally

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

Part One

Subterranean Sally 3

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

(story continues from Subterranean Sally)

Part Three