Bobbi Jo had checked her emails on her favourite dating site for hot wives and swingers when she saw one from a local man named Paul. He professed to be a strict Dominant, knowledgeable in the finer arts of BDSM and fetish play, and he loved to date married ladies.
A brief flurry of correspondence ensued, and a date for Friday night was set.
She eagerly told her husband, Lance about the coming tryst, and in true cuckold fashion she made him feel humiliated by the prospect of yet another stranger using her for his selfish pleasures.
Friday evening, she placed the stainless steel cock cage over his cock and locked it securely. Around his neck she fastened the locking cuckold collar made of strong black leather with very prominent steel studs spelling out his place in life.
Just to add to the fun and humiliation, she decided to wear the very sexy white leather mini skirt and crop top that he had purchased for her birthday, along with a pair of white crotch high, stiletto heel platform boots.
Paul arrived at her home right on time. She invited him in and told herself the she was his, anything that this absolute hunk of a man wanted he would get. She was getting wet just looking at him and imagining what he would be like in bed. She then introduced him to her husband, Lance. They said their “hellos” and left for the night.
Driving to his home, Paul spent much of the time complimenting Bobbi-Jo on her fantastic looks, and her amazing sexuality. She begged him to tell her what the surprise was he had in store, but he only shook his head,
“No,” was all that he said.
Arriving at his home, he helped her from his car and walked her inside. He commanded her to lift her skirt, and she did.
Gazing at her neatly trimmed bush, he shook his head and said, "That will not do, you must be clean shaven, I am going to shave you now.”
She was a bit shocked at his directness, but said yes to his request.
Little did he know, but she craved control and discipline from a strong man who could both excite her and instill fear of the unknown into his play.
“Stand there with your legs spread wide, and your skirt lifted,” was his command.
He left for the bath, and returned with a cup of shaving lather and an old fashioned straight razor. She was a getting very wet and could feel her heart racing as she glanced at the ominous look of the long sharp razor, but her love of things frightening made her stand there, mute.
He lathered her and made sure that the brush found its way across her pussy lips several times. She was becoming very aroused by the soft, wet lather and silken feel of the bristles gliding on her precious, delicate skin. Deftly and rapidly, the razor slid across her nether regions, a flick of the blade and again it crossed. In what seemed like only seconds, she was clean-shaven.
She felt somehow embarrassed by her nakedness and vulnerability to him. Wiping her clean of the remaining lather, he cupped his hand and lathered it up. Without warning, nor a spoken word, he pushed three fingers into her pussy and began to turn his hand around and around, pushing it further into her. She took it easily and without pain. Pulling his hand back an inch, he cupped the remaining fingers together, and pushed in again, he was now trying to fist fuck her with his whole hand. The sensation was both scary and intense, she had never before been fist fucked, but she was committed to pleasing her lover so she stood there and took whatever pain was starting to course through her. By the time he was inserted up to his fingers second joint, she was grimacing and crying out softly as he rounded his hand and pushed harder.
“Breathe deeply and when I say so, tighten your stomach as much as you can,” he instructed.
She shook her head "Yes."
He applied more lather to his hand, and kept twisting it and pushing at the same time.
“NOW!” he called out.
With that, she felt a sharp jolt of intense pain. His entire hand was now buried deep in her wet pussy. She opened her eyes and looked down, seeing her lover’s wrist pressed against her pussy lips. The eroticism of being impaled by his hand sent her into instant orgasm.
“Breath deeply,” he again instructed.
She shook her head “Yes.” He resumed twisting his hand inside of her. The sensations were as nothing she had ever experienced before. She came several times, one after another until she was spent. Weak on her legs, she was obviously unable to continue with her lusty session. He told her to breathe deeply and hold her stomach tight once again, as he pulled his hand out of her in one rapid jerk. She screamed out, and nearly fainted. He caught her, and carried her to his bed where his laid her down to rest.
Awakening a few hours later, she sprang back to life, finding her ankles and wrists tied with satin scarves. "Kinky," she thought, ”I love bondage.” She then asked once more what the surprise was he had in store for her. This time he replied,
“You are a beautiful, sensual creature, my lover, and as such, you should be kept that way for eternity, as the Princesses of ancient Egypt were.”
Confused, she thought this was a series of compliments designed to flatter her ego. (It worked).
“OK,” she said, “Why not? “
Seemed like a good answer.
“Then it is settled, you will be prepared, anointed with oils and mummified alive for my pleasure,” he exclaimed.
She laughed at what she saw as a joke.
Trying to sit up, she found that she was unable to move.
“You were well tied, just the way you like it while you slept, my lover, it will make it so much easier for you this way”
She began to think it was not a joke... Maybe he was really going to do it.
He picked her up from his bed and carried her into another room. In the room was a stainless Gurney steel table like you would see in a hospital, many odd objects, instruments, and rolls of gauze, tape, latex strips, and bottles of fluids, pails of paste and more. He took a large knife and cut her clothes from her limp body. She began to panic, and cried out at him. He ignored her cries, and told her not to waste her precious breath, no one would hear her, the room was sound proofed and the closest neighbor was a quarter mile away.
Paul picked up a pail of some thick, gooey substance and began to rub it all over her body, covering every inch. Even her hair was coated in the bronze colored oil.
“Now we must clean you out,” he stated.
Paul rolled a cart next to the table with an odd looking machine on it. He took a long flexible clear tube from it, covered it with Vaseline and inserted it into her behind. Helpless to do anything, she saw the long tube disappear into her bowels.
At the end of the tube, she saw a balloon type object being inserted. He stopped just after it disappeared, and holding a hand inflating bulb, began to pump it up.
“We wouldn’t want it to leak, would we?” he queried laughingly. “You are going to have a high colonic, have you ever had one before?” he asked.
“No,” she replied faintly.
“Good, then this is a first for you. It will alternately fill your colon, intestines and bowels with soapy warm water, it will then drain it out. This takes place several times, so just relax and enjoy it.”
Clicking the machine on, she could hear the hum of the motor and the pump as it sprang to life. Watching her tummy, she could see it rise to nearly pregnant size, then fall back to rock flat. Over and over the cycle ran. Finally, he was satisfied that she was clean, and deflating the bulb, he pulled the tube from her.
“That wasn’t to bad, was it?” he asked.
“No Master,” she replied. “I sort of enjoyed it”
“That’s good,” he said, ”You are beginning to realize that I am your Master, and you will serve me as I dictate.”
“Will there be pain, as I am being prepared, Master?” she asked, secretly hoping for some level of erotic pain.
“No, my love you will never feel any pain from now on,” he replied.
“Shucks,” she thought to herself.
With that, he produced a transparent latex suit. It was a complete full body suit, it would cover every inch of her body, and would not leave one square inch of her exposed.
He started at her feet, and slowly worked it up on her body. The oily substance she had been coated with was slippery and allowed for easy insertion of her body. Even her beautiful breasts were fitted into moulded cups to allow them to protrude proudly, as they always did.
He had covered her up to her neck, when he stopped. She was so very aroused by being encased in the wonderful latex catsuit that she lost sight of what she was experiencing, Mummification!
“How will I breathe when you cover my head with the hood, Master?” she asked.
Pointing to the anatomically moulded face, he pointed to the nose, “See, two tiny holes for you to breath through, it will be difficult for you, but you can get some air through if you breathe slowly and carefully,” he finished.
Quickly, he pulled the hood over her head and began to zip the suit up. The zipper ran the length of her back, as it pulled up higher and higher, it pulled the suit skintight to her body.
“See, it’s like it was made for you, Princess” he laughed.
She had never before been so confined, the latex fit like a second skin, but one that provided extreme sexual excitement to her, especially her breathing being so limited by the two tiny air holes.
Then, he started to carefully wrap her legs with gauze that was soaking in a bucket filled with plaster and cement mixture. Working his way up her body, he secured her arms to her sides, and continued to her neck, which he paid special attention to. Making sure that extra tension was applied, he wrapped her neck carefully, allowing her breath, but restricting it as well.
“You must realize that encasement and mummification is restricting by nature, and you must endure some suffering.”
“Yes, Master,” she again replied.
“Are you doing OK?” he asked.
“Yes, I am,” She managed to say.
He didn’t know that she had already had two orgasms since the ritual began, and was working on the third. Her talking was now very difficult due to the wrappings.
“Good, my love,” he replied. “Now, you will not again see light. Your first layer of bindings is nearly done.”
He quickly and carefully inserted two plastic straws through the holes in the latex suit deep into her nostrils, then finished wrapping her head in the plaster coated gauze. Stepping back to admire his workmanship, he chuckled. Thinking about this, his newest mummy, he recalled that the others had never been so compliant.
Two more layers of plastered gauze followed by a layer of latex strips dipped in adhesive and a final coating of liquid latex. He then produced a large tube of temperature sensitive plastic and slid her wonderfully mummified body into it.
Taking a heat lamp, he set it up over her and watched as the plastic tube shrink to wrap her body in its skintight encasement. She was now a glistening, plastic coated mummy. Removing the straws from her nose, he asked if she could hear him. A low muffled sound was heard.
“Good, rest easily, Princess.”
Lost in her sensual confinement, she was not fully aware of the reality of the situation, but somehow, it didn’t seem to matter right now. Sensuality was over riding reality.
Feeling was now beginning to return to her body, she was able to wriggle her fingers under the impenetrable bindings that held her in their embrace. Hours passed, she had no way to tell time, but she knew that she had been mummified for quite some time. Her body heat was generating a huge amount of sweat inside of her latex covering, this, combined with her having to pee was beginning to worry her.
Unable to hold it any longer, she relaxed and allowed her golden juices to flow freely. She could feel the warmness of it as it flowed under her back and up to her head.
“Great,” she thought, “I just pissed in my own hair.”
The encasement was not allowing any heat to escape; she was soaking wet from head to toe, which amplified the sensuality of the moment. The extreme heat was starting to make her both faint and sleepy, closing her eyes; she dozed off for a long nap.
Awakening for a second time, she began to think, which could be a dangerous thing. How long could she stay like this? She was becoming quite thirsty, and very hungry.
Would she ever be found, or would she possibly be let go? What would happen to her husband when she didn’t return home? Would he call the police... but he didn’t know where I was being brought, or even Paul’s last name! She loved dating other men while her Cuckold husband stayed home to await her return, but this may have been a bad idea for a date, she thought.
A tinge of panic was developing in her mind. The sensuality of the encasement was quite extreme, and very exciting, which kept her from losing her composure completely.
Drifting through the total darkness, her mind was starting to play tricks on her. She imagined that she was really a Princess being mummified, and placed into a tomb.
She then dreamed of a handsome, rugged captor spiriting her away to some romantic foreign country as a sex slave....Oh, if only, she dreamed.
Reality broke the trance. Paul was next to her, and speaking something that she could barely make out. Only parts of words managed to filter through the rock hard encasement. She made out “moved,” “altar” and “sacrificed.”
That set her into a panic!
She felt the table rolling; she heard a garage door opening, and the sound of a truck or car running. She felt the Gurney hit the back of the vehicle, and her mummified body being pushed inside of it. Sharp noises of a truck door slamming were the last sound that she heard.
She felt the bumping and bouncing of the truck as it made it way to somewhere unknown. Where was he taking her now? She thought. Was he going to abandon her? She kept running the words Altar and Sacrifice through her head, and it was not helping her at all. Then, the truck stopped. The bouncing was gone, and it was quiet again. Panic hit home like a brick. Was this it?
The panic caused her to void uncontrollably a second time. The hot golden juices flowed and flowed, she was well soaked in her own pee. The latex suit and the wrappings were so tight that there was no place for the pee to puddle; instead it had now filled her suit to just under her chin, covering her ears. Once more she thought to herself, and at least I will have something to drink, it should come up to my mouth by then. Desperation, for sure, but when you are so thirsty, even your own piss sounds good, she thought. Concentrating on her voiding as much as she could, she was able to flush more of her juices from her body. As the level in the suit increased, she opened her lips as much as the plaster prison would allow. Her steaming hot piss trickled into her mouth. As horrible as it tasted, she was thankful for the fluid she was able to suck in.
The quiet of the mummification was broken by the sounds of breaking and ripping.
She felt the outer covering of her plaster tomb breaking away and tearing away from her latex catsuit covered body. (She did not know that Paul had laid two pieces of strong, thin piano wire on top of the latex catsuit, one running from her right shoulder to her left foot, and the other on the opposite side, forming an “X”.) Paul grabbed hold of the ends of the sharp wires, and with a jerk pulled them up through the plaster casted mummy covering.
The light, total darkness for so long had rendered her eyes so very sensitive, blinded her. She could make out a shape. She felt a hand under her head, gently lifting it up. She was helped to a sitting position. Was her end now being set in motion? What was he going to do to her?
Her eyes quickly adjusted. She now saw Paul standing behind her, and her husband! He was standing next to her removing the last pieces of the plaster encasement from her body.
“Did you enjoy your weekend, my lover?” her husband asked.
She was speechless. Both Paul and her husband laughed as she was helped up on her feet and hugged them both.
“Like it,” she said, “You bet... By the way, can I keep the catsuit???”
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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