Resin

Jerome would never forget the words that ended his life: “Congratulations, Donor 896. You’re still fertile.” *** Everyone had been so concerned about the Nork nukes. There was lots of saber rattling, lots of heated rhetoric, lots of back and forth accusations. The missile launches were almost anticlimactic. The lack of nuclear fire was almost expected. Everyone knew the Norks couldn’t have gotten a nuclear warhead on a missile. It was simply beyond them. ...

Anne glanced around the redecorated man cave that was the frat house’s attic hangout room. For the Halloween Haunted House, the guys had actually cleaned up and decorated it and she could see the effort they had put into tonight. There were a few hours before the doors opened for tonight’s festivities. Henry was still talking with Brad about what they planned on doing to her tonight for the scene she had agreed to participate in. ...

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

continues from part two Part 3: The Arrival She had her, the woman, free only minutes prior, was now her prisoner. It had been such an easy matter to capture the woman, and wrap her body in bandages, covering every inch of flesh and skin, but she hadn’t stopped there. Great care had been taken to use bandages that were extra tight and stretchy, which compressed the woman’s cute, curvy body. Now that her mummification was complete, Quinn could ensure that her prisoner had no chance of escape, no opportunity to wiggle free. The casket would see to that. Kneeling, Quinn took the mummy’s squirming shoulders and began to drag her across the floor, heading towards the open casket. Candles were set about it, giving a soft glow to the darkened room. Buried under the wrappings, the woman couldn’t see the beauty, or realize how elegant this entombment really was. All she knew was darkness, and the knowledge that the bandages wrapped around her body made escape impossible. But still she wiggled, refusing to go without a fight. Reaching the casket, Quinn wrapped her arms around the mummy’s tummy, squeezing hard as she lifted her off the ground. As if sensing the end, the mummy squirmed, legs trying to kick, offering one last feeble resistance. But her efforts were for naught, as the resistance did little good. Amused at the effort, Quinn stood, letting her mummified captive squirm, enjoying the feel of the wrappings, and soft flesh beneath her arms. Then, deciding to end it, she gave the mummy a squeeze, putting her in a warm hug. Such a move seemed to calm the mummy slightly, as she went lip. Arms crossed and wrapped over her chest, she couldn’t return the favor. Relaxed as she was, the mummy was caught off guard when Quinn quickly lowered her into the casket. She began to struggle again, rolling and wiggling as Quinn took the straps and buckled them around the bandaged body, tightening them until the mummy couldn’t move, held down tightly. All she could do now was wiggle helplessly, a faint mewing escaping her wrappings. “Sleep well,“ Quinn said, grinning as she took the lid and brought it down. When it was closed, she put the latches in place, locking the lid down, and leaving the mummy to wiggle inside its resting place. Stepping back, Quinn looked the casket over, making sure everything was in place, and that every lock, strap, and bolt was secure. Once it was, and everything was to her satisfaction, she rubbed her hands through her hair, and collapsed on the sofa, glad to be off her feet for a few minutes. These play sessions were still as enjoyable as ever, but as Quinn had gotten older, she got tired more easily. But that wasn’t a problem; a few minutes of rest, and she’d be ready to go once more. Her rest was interrupted when the phone rang. Groaning, Quinn reached over and picked it up. “Black Delights,“ she said, putting on her best business voice. “How can I help you? “Oh, hi, this is Mr. Kim.“ Delighted, Quinn smiled. “Mr. Kim! Calling in to confirm your appointment, are you?“ Even over the phone, Quinn could easily visualize her next client grinning. “Oh yes.“ “Let me double check the schedule,“ Pulling out a small, leather organizer, she flipped it open, flipped through the pages until she arrived at tomorrow’s date. “Yep, here you are. Billy Kim, ten AM sharp.“ “Excellent! Though, I did want to call to ask about something else.“ “Oh?“ “I… uh… I got something new I want to try out. One of my boyfriends gave me this neoprene sleepsack, and I was wondering if we could fit that in.“ Quinn grinned. “Of course we can. If you have a fantasy, we can make it come true, though it will cost a little extra.“ “Oh, that won’t be an issue!“ ‘Thank goodness,’ Quinn thought. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then!“ “I’m looking forward to it!“ Hanging up, Quinn tried to hold back the small squeal of joy that wanted to tear itself free. If the stars aligned, and fate smiled on her for once, then Mr. Kim’s last minute addition might be the lucky sign she needed. Getting up, Quinn quickly checked on her client inside the casket. Lifting up the lid wasn’t an issue, as a tiny infared camera fed a signal to a portable television, allowing her to peer inside. Ms. Cunningham, her mummified client, was resting comfortably, her bandaged chest slowly moving up and down. Satisfied that her charge was safe and comfortable, Quinn went to the computer and brought up the spreadsheet detailing all her monthly expenses. Typing in the amount from this session, she wasn’t pleased with the result; though Ms. Cunningham paid handsomely, and gave generous tips, her session made only a small dent in the month’s expenses, Quinn was still about two hundred dollars in the red. ‘Close’ she thought. ‘But not quite enough’. She’d have to find a few ways to get enough money to cover the remaining balance, while she couldn’t fit another client into her schedule, she could offer Mr. Kim a few extra perks. His session alone would cover a hundred and fifty dollars, with the sleepsack adding another ten, but if she threw in a massage or two, along with a dip in the Jacuzzi, then perhaps that would finally put her in the black. But if he didn’t take it, then she doubted that the bill collectors would be eager at another extension. There was a loud thunder crack outside, the tenth one in the past hour. While the thunder, lightning, and torrential downfall had certainly made for great drama while playing out Ms. Cunningham’s fantasy of being captured and mummified by an evil female priest (a role Quinn had played with all the relish she could muster), having those strikes come so frequently and so loudly was starting to get on Quinn’s nerves. Checking the camera once more, she saw that Ms. Cunningham was lying still, unaffected by the storm outside Quinn’s small home. But just to play it safe, Quinn turned on a white noise generator, filling the interior of the casket with the sound. From Quinn’s own experiences, the sound would help soothe her client and help her enjoy the experience more, especially the sensation of being safely sealed away from the turbulence and the storm outside. With the role of evil priestess finished, Quinn stood and walked to the closet, where she took off the robes and put them away, getting back into her standard outfit: Black cat suit, black leather trench coat, and thick boots. In this guise, she would come to ‘rescue’ Ms. Cunningham in an hour or two, at which point her client, relieved at having been freed from an early grave, would give her rescuer all the passionate sex she could muster, followed by being whisked away to safety, and a night in a warm bed. With everything under control for the moment, Quinn headed to the television and switched it on, wanting to see if there were any reports about the storm. Hopefully it was an intense, but brief one, and would pass within a few hours, or at the latest, with the first rays of the sun. "” and scientists are still baffled at the onslaught of the storm, which, at this point, has started to spread across the planet, engulfing many countries in near hurricane force gales. There are currently no explanations for their cause, or why they are so intense.“ The screen shifted to a map of the United States, showing little cartoon clouds hovering over most of the country, including her area. To make things even worse, Quinn’s area was getting warnings about dangerous amounts of rainfall, rivers overflowing, and flooding in general throughout the rest of the week. ‘Oh, damn.’ If the weather reports were true, and the rivers were going to overflow, then she was screwed. The roads would be impassable, and Mr. Kim wouldn’t be able to make his appointment. It was a simple, chilling formula. If Mr. Kim didn’t make it, then that meant no money. And no money meant the bills wouldn’t be paid on time, which, in turn, would put Quinn’s entire livelihood in jeopardy. “Damn,“ she cursed. Of all the days for the weather to turn temperamental, it had to be tomorrow. Still at least Ms. Cunningham was here. If she was unable to leave due to the flooding, then perhaps Quinn could convince her to stay another day, perhaps have another session or two. Maybe, just maybe, Quinn could persuade her to enjoy the warm confines of the casket for another day. The woman was definitely a kinky one; the thought of spending an entire day mummified, with the occasional orgasm if she was good and submissive, could be enough to persuade her to stay. Quinn hoped that was the case, she couldn’t stand the thought of Cunningham leaving. Oh, she’d be happy with what she had gotten, and a happy customer was always a good thing, but her happiness wouldn’t pay the bills unless she wanted to play some more. With another crack, the rains came down even harder. ...

That Vinny is a sick bastard. The gorilla creased the heavy, white cardboard, folded it in half. He picked up the unconscious girl and laid her on it, made a couple of marks, lifted her off and proceeded to undress her. Surprisingly, for a goon like Vinny, he has a very delicate touch, plays Mozart on a harpsichord. No lie. The room was in an apartment, an apartment that had been wired. People who shouldn’t be there, doing things they shouldn’t be doing, with people they shouldn’t be with were regularly filmed. The resulting video ensured a certain amount of cooperation from those people. ...

continued from Part One 3: Wrapped I take off the blindfold and you are smiling. I hope that remains when you see what I have upstairs………… When I touch the suit you are very hot. I made a promise and you are not coming out of this suit until I leave, a couple of more days to go. I get you juice and a bowl of the sorbet from earlier this should cool you down; I feed us both until all has been eaten. Both refreshed, I turn and look at you, is it too early to go to bed, probably but it had been a full day, I suppose you have been resting and relaxing while enclosed. I come over to you and put the breathe through gag on. I take you by the hand and lead you up the stairs. You look at the room and notice that I have put on black latex, sheets, pillows and duvet and the bed has restraints and a few toys out. ...

Note: This story was initially written by Filador50 as a sequal to his outstanding story, “The Sentence”. In his own words, “There have been calls for a sequel to The Sentence-I had put some thought into a story, but could never seem to come up with a plot sufficient to meet my demanding standards. A story was partially composed and never finished.” He forwarded thetext to me, which I have expanded upon and completed. ...

You have always been a very obedient slave. I am sure you would have agreed to my plan just because I told you to, but I know you well enough to be sure that this will also fulfil your greatest wish. You sit on your knees next to the box while I finish the preparations. Whenever I turn towards you, you are looking at the floor in front of you, like a good slave. Although, when my back is turned and I steal a glance in the mirror, I can see you are looking at me, following my actions. I let it go; they will be your last transgressions. Besides, you have always been the favourite of my two slaves; that is why I asked you to become the centrepiece of my new dungeon. ...

The great pillars of black rock jutting up from the desert resembled a long-abandoned city or some sort of Stonehenge-like monument. Although not believed to be anything other than naturally occurring formations caused by the eroding forces of wind and sand, the circle of giant rocks - called simply enough the Ring of Stones - looked foreboding and eerily manmade. “This is it, Ms. Davies,” said Inspector Alhazred, tapping the windshield of the Jeep with his finger. “This is where your friends were last seen.” ...

I was amazed at last I had a decent job, for ages I had applied for every job in the local paper, but they always found one excuse after another for saying, “Sorry you are not suitable.” or “Oh so sorry the vacancy has just been filled.” I had applied at the North Wales Research Institute for Advanced Bionics for the position of security guard working nights, I was told at the interview the plant was mass producing and making simple machines to do simple jobs automatically for homes all around the world, it seemed ok to me. ...

I think the county of Worcestershire is one of the nicest counties in England. Also one of the most mysterious counties, it is well endowed with small sleepy villages that seem lost in a time warp all of there own. It is as if time itself has passed them by, I suppose that is what makes England the tops when it comes to folklore, sprites, ghosts and things that go bump in the night. I recently had the pleasure to visit the county, and stayed in a small village that nestled by the banks of the River Severn. It is the sort of village that one can drive past without knowing it is there. As I was pre warned I was already looking out for it, I was going south of Worcester, heading towards the small town of Upton-on-Severn, I had booked in advance into a old inn, that I was assured was full of old world charm and not to be missed. The purpose of my visit was to find some information about my past. I knew nothing of my parents relations and this trip was to try to fill that gap in my knowledge and family history. I had learned my Grandmother had lived there but had suddenly disappeared many years ago at the age of 24, so this was hopefully a trip of discovery. I booked into the inn the mist was settling down as I arrived adding to the thrill of the setting I found myself in. On entering the inn, I was greeted by a cheery tubby gent who introduced himself as the landlord and asked if I was the guest he was expecting. I assured him I was the Jenny Wize he was expecting. Over dinner, I asked if he knew of my missing relation, a Miss Alice who lived down the road in Quay lane. I thought for a minute the smile disappeared from his face, perhaps he was just thinking, he shook his head saying he knew of no one by that name. As I looked up, he was staring down at me the sort of stare that seems to penetrate my very being. I finished the meal, slipping on my denim jacket, I ventured out into the night air, the mist now was quite thick, I made my way down Quay lane towards the river. My Grandmother used to live in the last house on the right near the River Severn. The house seemed to appear out of the mist, standing in front of the house were two ladies, both dressed in what I would call old fashioned clothes, the first one rather younger smiled and asked my business. I explained that I was looking for a long lost relation called Alice; the Lady smiled and asked if I had looked at the graveyard at the rear of the church, she stated that most of the old graves were at the rear of the church. I thanked them for their advise and set back up the lane towards a second lane called Bowling Green, this in turn led to the rear of the church, I wandered around for a while. The mist grew thicker, and the air seemed to be a lot cooler but it was a sweet smell in the air, a smell resembling chloroform, the smell seemed to linger in the air around the graveyard. I do not know what happened next but I found myself wandering down some stone steps, I seemed to be dressed in a monks habit it was all white, my hands seemed bound together, but there was no panic in me at all. In front and behind me were some, I presumed male figures, also dressed in monks habit, only their habits where a dark colour, almost black but not quite The leading figure had an old fashioned lantern that cast shadows of the ghostly figures on the underground walls. In my mind, I could hear a ghostly chant as we progressed under the graveyard; I heard a slight rumble behind me as a stone slab closed over the entrance we had just entered by. The passage way led in to a larger chamber, a stone sarcophagus was in the centre of the room, and I was made to stand on a round stone next to the sarcophagus. My white robes were removed and dropped to the floor; my naked body glistened in the shimming light from the lit torches positioned in the surrounding walls. I do not know why, but I seemed to know what was expected of me, no commands were spoken. ...

Note this story contains scenes of explicit sex and violence. If stories containing descriptions of explicit sex, torture and sexual violence offend you go elsewhere and read the comic pages of the paper. This is complete fantasy and all characters are fictional. To the reader this story was written for a specific person if you want to experience the real terror of the victim you will have to put yourself in her place. I did not do that because the person for whom this was written would be experiencing the terror of the situation ...

The story below is a follow up to my earlier story “You are A product to be Dealt with” and is a work of fiction, But should Hazel return as I hope she will it might be become A true story and its all Gromet’s fault. The phone rang it was seven in the morning I thought to myself “Who the hell is this at this unearthly hour?” The answer phone machine clicked in and my voice mechanically drowned, “Hi Jenny is out at the moment but leave a message after the tone and I will get back to you as soon as possible”. ...

As we all know the home of the mummy is Egypt so a trip to see the mummies in the Cairo Museum is the dream of most people who are into Mummification, While visiting if you where offered the chance to become a mummy would you considerate an opportunity to turn your dream into reality, Or could your dream become a nightmare. It was a Trip of a lifetime. A visit to Egypt, it had always been a dream of mine. I was travailing by myself, today I was visiting the Cairo Museum. The bus pulled up in the coach park, I walked from there to the main entrance of the Museum I paid the entrance fee and walked in to another world. It was an unbelievable sight the giant statues stared down at me, I turned to the right and made my way to the Tutankhamen room. Tutankhamens gold mask stood in the centre of the room were ever I walked the eyes seemed to follow me, I now made my way to the section of the museum that held the Mummies. ...

His obsession with the encapsulation of insects had started it off. Beautiful butterflies were preserved in all of their glory, as only a privileged few could have enjoyed their living beauty in the wild. Transparent resin preserved every detail, without damaging or hiding anything. Preserved butterflies were easy to handle because the resin was robust and protective. Preserved insects could also be examined under the microscope, because the resin was perfectly transparent. An attachment was used to extend the focus. ...

Have you ever wished for that super male you know the one the rare bread that does not seem to exist, that can keep going above and beyond the normal bounds of physical endurance, The odd one in a million that can out perform a women, Perhaps you should not wish for what you cannot control Kim and Jenny had decided it was time to find a male to torment, the thing was every time a suitable male appeared on the scene, all he wanted to do was to lay one of them or both that’s if he had the stamina and then go to sleep leaving the girls to amuse themselves for the rest of the evening! So surly it was time we got a male with an in-exhaustible supply of stamina, a sort of steam engine on legs in for our own enjoyment and entertainment, one that would want to carry on and on, a sort of mechanical stud! As we had always been used by males for their entertainment in the past we both agreed the time had come for a change, we were going to be in charge of the next one. ...

Hotel Transylvania – Alternate Version or How To Fracture A Fairy Tale * * * In this version Murray the Mummy is late and has not arrived yet. We start the show with Jonathan having just arrived and is entering the hotel. Count Dracula is coming down the stairs having consoled his daughter Mavis and watches a new guest squeeze through the revolving doors. Once the person is revealed in the light he sees that it is not a monster as the shadowy profile might have indicated. ...

To get the full benefit of this story it is advisable to read “A Holiday to Remember” first. Rob was convinced Jenny was being held against her will so he decided to go to Egypt to see if he could rescue her but like most men he jumped in with both feet Rob stepped off the plane at Cairo airport, he was here to find his missing Cyber girlfriend Jenny, she had visited Egypt last summer and the last he heard from her was a E Mail saying she was having “A Holiday to Remember” and she would be visiting the Cairo museum tomorrow to see the mummies. Since then he nor anyone else had heard any more of Jenny, it was as if she had just disappeared. ...