Suffocate on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Three Choices

Sat, 15 Dec 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Bill refuses to comply and receive an I.D. Then he is given three choices of method — for his execution. Who wouldn’t defy the future government, with such beautiful enforcers?

Three Choices A second sequel to the ID Registration Squad

Never had William (we’ll call him Bill) been confronted by such a lovely, sexy-looking young woman in his life. He’d seen such beauties portrayed on television, films, in magazines and the computer, but having seen Beyonce once – a member of the ID Security squad —seeing her in his house was most disturbing.

Real Condom Suit

Tue, 12 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000

James had become so sick of his girlfriend’s lying, cheating and horrible manner. He had spend the last 4 months planning and building his revenge. She had it coming to her for the way she acted. She had turned against him and acted out. She had made their relationship sour and bitter. And it was all down to her, she had cheated on him. She had lied through her teeth about the stories and rumours being untrue. But she was trying to cover up what she had done. James was happy with the relationship before it happened and tried to push it back on track. He let her get away with it in some ways and that lead her to change how she was around him. She become a right bitch and ripped through his loving and soft nature. She would pay the price as he waited for her to get home from work.

Goodbye Garbage

Wed, 16 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000

You’ve been lying here 20 minutes now, wondering what’s going to happen. Face down on the bed, naked and hogtied with cable ties. Waiting for another night of fun, but tonight is different. I walk in eventually, you notice something is up, I’m just wearing a pair of joggers and a hoodie, my hair is tied back and my sleeves rolled up. Usually I wear something sexy for you but tonight I look like I’m going to do some housework. That’s cause I am. I don’t even acknowledge you as I leave again and go to the kitchen. I come back in holding a roll of extra large, heavy duty, black, garbage bags in one hand and a roll of duct tape in the other. I toss them next to your face on the bed and leave again. This time I return with the vacuum cleaner and leave it next to the bed. I stand there, look at you and sigh. I start to unravel one of the shiny and smooth, garbage bags and rip it off the roll. “What’s the vacuum cleaner for?” You ask curiously, as I climb behind you. I completely ignore your question and instead lean close and pinch your nose shut. As your mouth opens instinctively to breathe, you start to feel me packing the un-open garbage bag I ripped off into your mouth until the whole thing is in there. Forgetting to let go of your nose, you start to choke as I force it in. I hold my hand over your mouth to keep it in, then start wrapping it up in tape. Round and round. Pulling it tight as I go until I’m satisfied you’re not going to make a sound. Then you start to feel me wrapping up your cable ties with the thick, duct tape, securing the hogtie. Making sure all your limbs are stuck tight. You even feel me tape up your fingers and toes. You wonder for a second if I’m maybe going a bit over the top but that soon fades as the ecstasy of being helpless starts taking over and you start to enjoy it. “I wouldn’t get too excited, if I were you.” I say calmly, noticing your dripping erection. You look up at me nervously wondering what I’m planning. You try to mouth words through your gag, asking what the hell I’m going on about, but nothing comes out. Just a quiet muffled noise. “Shhhh, don’t worry!” I laugh. “I’ll explain everything, it’s the least I can do considering what I’m about to do to you. I want you to know what’s going to happen and why I’m doing this to you.” You heart stops for a moment, what’s she going to do? Your mind starts racing. “Well, unfortunately, I’m bored of you now. You’ve exhausted your last bit of usefulness and just like every disposable object, which you are, you have an expiry date. That date is today, right now.” You start to nervously chuckle through your gag before I interrupt your amusement. “I’m not fucking joking! You are done. I’m going to pack you up in these garbage bags like the worthless junk you are and throw you out with all the rest of the trash. I guess you could say, I’m dumping you.” I giggle at my own joke, proud of myself for my quick humor as you panic on the bed, wondering if this crazy girl is actually serious. Well, she is. “Oh yeah, you were wondering what the vacuum cleaner was for? Well, today I spent all day cleaning up SO much trash. There are so many bags that I’m going to have to vacuum pack you to fit you in the dumpster with it all.” Then you realize, she is serious. You start begging through your gag as I rip off more garbage bags from the roll. I don’t say a word. I just shake the bag open and slide it over your head and shoulders. I grab onto the tape holding your legs and hands together in your hogtie and use it to slide you into the shiny, smooth, thick bag. You get pushed all the way to the end and start feeling me pushing the air out of the black bag and bringing the sides of the bag together as everything gets darker. You lie there, helplessly moaning as you hear me plug in the vacuum. “You better hold your breath” I laugh. “Or don’t, I don’t care.” With that, the vacuum nozzle is put into the bag and the switch goes on. You feel the bag slowly start to suck in around you and your heart starts racing. The confining plastic closes in. Getting tighter and tighter. Before you know it, you are having to blow the bag from your face as it keeps getting sucked into your nose until finally you are air tight. I hold the vacuum there a few extra seconds just to make sure I’ve got all the air out, then I tape up the end tight. Bending the end over on itself, making sure nothing escapes and taping it again. By this point, you are starting to struggle for air, trying to signal me to let you breathe. I climb on top of your vac bagged body and all you hear is the sound of tape being ripped off of the roll. You feel me start to wrap the thick, black tape around your mouth, as if I was gagging you again, then around your eyes. Now you are screaming for air. “But garbage doesn’t need to breathe.” I say mockingly. I play with you a little and rub your dick with my hand as hard as I can before I finally pop a hole in each of your nostrils for air before you pass out. “I want you conscious for this, you’ll have plenty of chances to suffocate later.” Starting to resign yourself to your fate, you hear the unraveling of yet another trash bag. The exact same thing happens again as before. You get slid inside, air sucked out and a couple of holes to breathe through your nostrils. This in fact happens another two times until I’m satisfied. “Now I need to make you look less suspicious incase someone happens to come across you. I wouldn’t get your hopes up though, I’m going to make sure you are nowhere near the top of the dumpster for anyone to find but I don’t want to take any chances.” I open up a final three trash bags and put them inside each other and lie them open, upwards, on the floor. I leave the room and come back with two full garbage bags from the weeks kitchen trash. I cut one open and dump it into the three layered, open bags and throw the now empty kitchen bag in with it as well. “I can’t tell the difference between you and the trash in this bag if I’m completely honest, but that’s just me.” I say passively. With that, I grab your feet and slide you off the bed and into the bags. You land with a bit of a thud but most of the garbage breaks your fall. Then I grab the other full kitchen bag and cut that open and dump it on top of you. “Now it’s time to take out the trash, I’m getting rid of you for good.” You give off a scream as I pull the draw strings together and tie it tight, not sealing off the bag completely so that you get some air through. You can feel and smell the garbage around you now. Packed tightly in my trash and sealed almost completely in a plastic bag, you can’t help but smell your sweat and arousal as well. Wondering if I’ll actually dig through the nasty trash to free you. Knowing your going to be trapped under a mountain of bags very soon, who knows if and when you’ll get any air. You feel me sliding you all the way too the garage. With you all packed up tight, you are a lot easier to lift into the trunk of my car but I still struggle and eventually drop you into it with a big thud. “Oh shit!” I scream. For a moment you think I’m concerned for your safety but that hope dies fast as you realize I was worried about having loose trash falling out of the bag into my trunk. Those heavy duty bags don’t rip easy though. And I’ve lost count of how many you are in. You hear me load up the garbage from the big clean up earlier before I close the trunk and we take a short trip to a remote area with a few dumpsters. The trunk opens. “This is it, time to throw you away with the garbage. No coming back now, this is happening. No ones going to find you, you’re going to lie in that dumpster under all the trash until you either suffocate or get crushed with the trash in the garbage truck. Pick-up here isn’t that regular so it will be a while before anyone comes by and I’m going to lock the dumpster shut just to make sure you stay where you belong. Most importantly, die where you belong. I walk away and grab a shopping kart lying around that some hobo probably left, then proceed to lift you into it. The dumpster has a ramp up to it so I push you in the cart all the way up to the opening. “Oh wow! That stinks! If you think that kitchen trash is bad you’ve got another thing coming.” Then I lean in close so you can hear me clearly. “I’m going to go home now and cum to the thought of you lying here, knowing I’ve finally taken out the trash for good. Thinking of you gasping on rotten, hot air until eventually enough plastic bags fall on your filthy face and send you to sleep for good. Knowing you’ll never be found, just another bag of trash getting dumped and compacted into a garbage truck. And once I’ve cum, I promise, i will never think of you ever again.” And with that, I tip you into the half full dumpster as you let of a final muffled scream in terror. Or at least the last one I’ll ever hear. I let you get comfortable as I go and get the rest of the trash bags from the car. There’s about 11 of them, some of them heavier than others. The lighter ones with the soft trash get thrown on you first, and I make sure and drop one of the huge, black bags right on top of where your head is. Then the heavier bags dumped on top of that. I just want to get home now, but I need to finish the job. I push down on the lid, having to force the garbage down to get it closed and lock it shut. You hear the rubbish all around you crumple, creak, and groan before I flip the lockbar in place. I stop and listen, I can’t hear anything. Good. You’ll never leave that dumpster, alive at least. You hear the car start and leave. The sound disappears as it gets further away, then just like that, silence. You’re fucked. You can’t move an inch, the smell is foul and your already struggling to breathe. You start panicking as plastic sucks against your nostrils, desperately trying to control your breathing. But it’s no use, you can’t find a pocket of fresh air. The bags pushing in against your face slowly from the weight of the garbage around you and the air running out of the bag your tightly sealed inside of. You finally accept your fate, only wishing you could jerk off, but your hands are hogtied to your feet. You start to grind against a bag of trash next to you, trying to get one last bit of pleasure before its lights out, until you finally cum inside your wet, slimy bag. The orgasm is unlike any you’ve ever had, it’s so very intense. In the ecstasy of cumming, you knock a bag loose, which falls down and sinks into your face. The loose bag seems to conform around your face and envelope you, hugging you sternly as you struggle for your last gasp beneath a thin layer of plastic. Goodbye garbage. That’s what you get.

Rubber Breathing Therapy 2

Tue, 13 Sep 2011 00:00:00 +0000

continues from part one

Rubber Breathing Therapy Continues

I could hear myself breathing I was beginning to regain consciousness, I was totally relaxed, a relaxed and calm state that I had never experienced before. The sound of my breathing was intense, I attempted to open my eyes they felt like ton weights and I struggling to focus. I was lying in a hospital bed, I groped at the bed sheets and realised they were made of rubber, I lifted my hand to my face and cupped the oxygen mask I was wearing. I tried hard to focus. I could see curtains drawn all around the bed, I concentrated straining my eyes, they too were made of rubber. Suddenly memories came flooding back, the overwhelming feeling of being suffocated. I began gasping for air, in the panic I unnoticeably pulled the rubber bed sheets over my face. The rubber sheet sucked against the oxygen mask smothering me. “Nurse!” I shouted out in a blind panic.

Rubber Breathing Therapy

Sun, 07 Aug 2011 00:00:00 +0000

I sat there staring, out of focus, almost subconsciously at the line of traffic in front of me, the same line of traffic I stare at every single day. Sometimes I even think the queuing order of the cars is the same. I recognise number plates and silent strangers also sitting, staring into oblivion, inching along to their mundane 9 to 5’s. I sit there, I feel other drivers cursing me, jealous of me, jealous of the fact that I am sitting in the same queue inching along but I have a better badge staring at them. The badge stares at me from the steering wheel, a badge that the dealer said “would make driving a pleasure“, costing as much as an average mortgage I had high expectations. Do I move any quicker? No. Did it make me feel any better? No. The only thing it gave me is hatred and envy from others for owning this badge. I began to wonder if this was it, was this what life was all about?

The College Shortcut 2

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The College Shortcut)

Part Two.

I was genuinely fearing for my life now after Mikeys earlier comment. “I’ll be back to have fun with you” he’d said. What the hell did that mean? How could any part of this be fun?

Through the next couple of hours I strained against my tape bonds with all the strength I could muster, but after the few days I’d been here, taped up like a mummy, my muscles were almost totally locked, and it was all I could do to barely roll from side to side. The weight pressing down on me from all sides didn’t help either. My face was once again pressed into the middle of an overly full bag, and the moisture from my breathing through my nose had made the slick plastic wet and slippery. It was getting tough to breath now as well, and I moved my head from side to side to try to get a better angle to breathe from, but the immense weight above made it very difficult to do so.