Dirt

My heart pounded in my ears almost as loud as the dirt pounding on the lid of the casket that was only inches above my face. I had asked for this, dreamed and fantasized about it for years, but I was quickly finding that my dreams and fantasies where a lot different than the hard cold reality of being buried alive. I strained against the straps that held me down, but it was useless. The leather straps were very tight, very secure, and held me nearly motionless. If only I hadn’t been so determined to feel like a prisoner, a captive. If only I hadn’t insisted that I be strapped down so tightly. ...

My heart pounded in my ears almost as loud as the dirt pounding on the lid of the casket that was only inches above my face. I had asked for this, dreamed and fantasized about it for years, but I was quickly finding that my dreams and fantasies where a lot different than the hard cold reality of being buried alive. I strained against the straps that held me down, but it was useless. The leather straps were very tight, very secure, and held me nearly motionless. If only I hadn’t been so determined to feel like a prisoner, a captive. If only I hadn’t insisted that I be strapped down so tightly. ...

I always had a morbid curiosity for certain things. One of them is knowing what it felt like to be buried alive. So a couple of frame carpenter pals helped me build a “burial box” in which I could experience burial without the risk of being snuffed. Since I’m a rather tall gal the box had to extend at least 6 (six) to 8 (eight) inches above my head & below my feet, there had to be a foot and a half to each side of my body. ...

I always had a morbid curiosity for certain things. One of them is knowing what it felt like to be buried alive. So a couple of frame carpenter pals helped me build a “burial box” in which I could experience burial without the risk of being snuffed. Since I’m a rather tall gal the box had to extend at least 6 (six) to 8 (eight) inches above my head & below my feet, there had to be a foot and a half to each side of my body. ...

A true story from Nakeddreamer. ( I am a male.) I had always been interested in bondage and selfbondage. Then one day I was looking at Gromet’s site and read a story about someone being buried. This really got my juices flowing. After seeing this story, it was all I could think about day after day. It was driving me crazy, so I decided that I would have to experience this for myself. ...

A true story from Nakeddreamer. ( I am a male.) I had always been interested in bondage and selfbondage. Then one day I was looking at Gromet’s site and read a story about someone being buried. This really got my juices flowing. After seeing this story, it was all I could think about day after day. It was driving me crazy, so I decided that I would have to experience this for myself. ...

I unrolled the long, black hose, left it loosely coiled in the sun. The rototiller made quick work of the plot and hand digging took less than an hour. It ended up kidney-shaped, the trough a thin scar cutting across the middle. I made a couple of trips with the cart, unloaded the truck, and arranged the plants about the plot. The trough would be lined with bricks, but not just yet. ...

I unrolled the long, black hose, left it loosely coiled in the sun. The rototiller made quick work of the plot and hand digging took less than an hour. It ended up kidney-shaped, the trough a thin scar cutting across the middle. I made a couple of trips with the cart, unloaded the truck, and arranged the plants about the plot. The trough would be lined with bricks, but not just yet. ...

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With sil-” “Mrs. Smythe?” Mary whirled. “Oh! I’m sorry if I startled you.” Mary smiled. “No, no, dear, that’s all right.” “I’m Edna Lambe from the university extension.” “Yes, dear.” “I was wondering if I could talk with you for a few minutes. You have a reputation for growing prize-winning produce and I was wondering if you would share your secret. All in the name of science you understand.” ...

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With sil-” “Mrs. Smythe?” Mary whirled. “Oh! I’m sorry if I startled you.” Mary smiled. “No, no, dear, that’s all right.” “I’m Edna Lambe from the university extension.” “Yes, dear.” “I was wondering if I could talk with you for a few minutes. You have a reputation for growing prize-winning produce and I was wondering if you would share your secret. All in the name of science you understand.” ...

I have always been interested in the medieval times. They were good at restraint and punishment. I had always decided that I too would like to experience the medieval punishment and restraint. I envisioned myself stripped and shackled and led away to the dark castle dungeon locked away. So I created this dungeon scene, my most elaborate self-bondage I have done yet. The house that my girlfriend Adonica and I live in was built in the early 1940’s so the basement was perfect. It needed to be just right however! I wanted this to feel real and the set had to be prepared carefully! I started by carrying in buckets of dirt that I got from the apartment housing that was going up in the lots across the way from our house. Piles of dirt from the basements were easily accessible and I carried bucked after bucket of black dirt down the basement making a very nice and thick dirt floor in the smallest room of the tiny basement. The dungeon was taking shape. Next I covered the window with cardboard so it would be dark, I cut little slots in the cardboard before placing it over the window giving the impression of closely spaced bars. The small amount of light that shown in was perfect for day and at night would be almost completely black as I checked it during the night that week prior to my time of confinement. The outside street light was at just an angle from the house that only small slivers of light shone in, just enough for me to be able to glimpse myself in my bondage imprisonment in the late evening and early morning hours. ...