Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

Buried Alive

by TLC

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© Copyright 2006 - TLC - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; kidnap; buried; death; cons; XXX

This story is fiction. It has nothing to do with anyone living or dead. This story contains sex and consensual snuff. Please do not read if you are under eighteen or don't like these kind of stories.

I lay in the bed playing with my pussy as I ran my favorite fantasy through my mind. I saw a movie about a woman being buried alive when I was a teenager. Every since then I have had this fantasy about me being the one laying in the shallow grave with dirt being dropped on my body. When we would play on the beach and cover each other with sand I would come in my bathing suit. Remembering the embarrassment when I would be uncovered from the sand and stand, there would be sand sticking to my wet crotch. Now all I had was fantasies. My husband and I were getting a divorce. I had always been good to people and was not sure what I had done to make him hate me so much. Maybe I was not good enough in bed or maybe I bitched too much. What ever the reason I knew he would kill me if he could get away with it. The only thing left in my life was my fantasy and it was one I could not live out.

Checking the mail the next day my life seemed to hit bottom. They were going to take my house for taxes, I told my husband I had paid. It was just the dress was so beautiful that I had to have it. I knew he would not help me out of this jam. This had been my parent’s house and planned to hand it down to my baby sister who was fifteen years younger than me. I felt like killing myself. The word killing set off a light bulb in my head. If I killed myself my insurance would take care of the house and leave my sister well off. I had never thought about killing myself before and was not sure how to do it. I thought over the things like cutting my wrist but knew I would chicken out. I doubt if I could kill myself. If I only had someone to do it for me. My thoughts returned to the night before and my fantasy. If I had to die I would want it to be by being buried.

I sat down and wrote a letter to my husband. I told him how I wanted him to kidnap me one night and bury me alive. I explained that I would make sure he had an alibi so he would not get into trouble. I picked a spot where I would never be found. My hands trembled as I sealed the envelop and placed a stamp on it. I went to the mailbox and dropped the death letter into it. I wondered what my husband would think when he read it. He would either laugh it off as a joke or get excited at the prospect. I had made the date for two days from now.

The day I had set was here. I had not heard from my husband so I don't even know if he got the letter. He might have turned it over to his lawyer, something I had not thought of, to have me put away. I went through the house cleaning and getting my things in order in case he decided to follow my plan. I looked at the picture of my sister and knew I would miss her, and her me. It was for her that I was doing this thing, if it happened. It was also a little selfishness on my part, I did want to live out my fantasy. I smiled as I thought of the "live" part.

It was ten at night and nothing had happened. My heart sank a little as I realized my husband was not going to help. I felt dread at the thought he most likely gave the letter to his lawyer. Being so down I decided to go to bed. In bed I ran my plan through my head as I played with my pussy. I brought myself to a small orgasm and drifted off to sleep.

I was torn from my sleep by a hand over my face. A man wearing a stocking mask hovered over me. He told me to be quiet or he would kill me now. I recognized the voice as my husband's. I knew he would want to kill me. He told me to not say anything or it was over. He did not want to hear my bitching voice again. I was right, it was my bitching that drove him to hate me. He tied my hands behind my back with a short piece of rope. He then tied my ankles together. He threw me over his shoulder like a duffel bag. My stomach hit his shoulder and knocked the breath out of me. As I struggled to breath I knew this was only a sample of what was to come. He carried me out the back of the house and put me in the trunk of my car. When the trunk lid closed darkness filled my eyes. As the car drove off I wondered why he had put me in the trunk. He could have laid me in the back seat. I guess he wanted to torture me a little more. I knew it would take about an hour for us to reach the spot I had picked out. By the time we got there the air was getting thin in the trunk. This was another reminder of what was to come.

The car stopped and the trunk opened. He threw me over his shoulder carried me into the woods. We walked for about fifteen minutes as his flashlight made ghostly shadows on the path.Finally we reached the spot I had picked out. I tried to remember all the details I had seen in the daylight when I had picked this spot. He dropped me on the ground with a jar. I realized he was going to get all of his anger out on this night. With nothing on but my gown the cool night air hit my pussy. I had not realized I was so turned on, my pussy was soaking wet. I watched as the shovel pierced the virgin ground for the first time. I watched as the dirt piled around my grave. I was amazed at the things mixed with the dirt. There were old car parts, bricks, and rocks of different sizes. I watched as the sweat ran from his face as he dug and struggled to cut the many roots from the surrounding trees.

I don't know how long we had been here but eventually he was waist deep in the hole.He climbed out of the hole and walked over to me. Instead of picking me up he pulled me to the hole with panting breaths. He dragged me over the hole and my feet hit the dirt with a thud. He then lowered the rest of me into the hole. My husband then picked up the flashlight and headed back to the car. I wondered if he was backing out and leaving me like this. I started to panic at the thought of starving to death in my own grave. It was funny how all this time neither of us had spoken. I guess we had said everything when we were living together. I realized there was a full moon shining in my eyes. It seemed so bright tonight. It even lit up the grave to where I could make out details. I had not noticed before but I felt a stinging in my ass. I remembered something hitting my ass when I was put in the grave. I wiggled my ass and could feel something there. If it had not been so rough it might have been sexy. I moved my hand to the object and felt that it was a root. This thing kissing at my asshole was starting to irritate me.

A light drew my attention away from the root in my ass. The light was soon over me and it was my husband. He had an arm load of stuff that I could not make out. All of a sudden the woods seemed to be on fire. He had brought a lantern. The next thing he brought into view surprised me, it was a mirror. He sat the mirror so I could seem myself in the grave. I almost orgasmed at the sight. This was a sight I had seen in my fantasies many times. All of a sudden my husband jumped in the grave knocking dirt on my gown. He took hold of my gown and ripped it off of me. He then jerked it out from under me. I grunted as the slight movement pushed the root into my ass. I tried to wiggle away but the grave was too narrow. I figured the annoyance would not matter for long. 

With the gown gone the cool night air made my nipples stand to attention. I looked at my medium sized breast and slim waist and wondered again why he hated me so much. Most men would be happy to have a wife with a body like this. I started to ask him but decided not to ruin the moment. My husband pulled off his pants and lay them on the pile of dirt. His cock was rock hard. He dropped down into the dirt grave on top of me. I felt his hard cock push into my already wet pussy. It did not take long for the two of us to orgasm. Our moans echoed through the woods as we did. My husband got up, with his cock dripping our love juices, and stepped out of the grave. The sex made me realized he did still care for me, at least a little.

I heard the grating sound as the shovel bit into the dirt. The shovel came over me and dumped its dirt around my feet. This continued till my feet and legs were covered. The dirt felt warm to the flesh that had been chilled by the night air. I thought that death should be warm instead of cold. The shovel kept pouring its dirt into my grave. I realized he was placing the dirt around me carefully. The dirt above my legs was only beside of me. I began to wonder if he knew about my fantasy and was dragging it out for me, or he was relishing the deed. 

By now my pussy juices were flowing. I could imagine the dirt getting wet below it. I wished I had thought of having him put a vibrator in my pussy. It was too late to change plans now. He shoveled dirt on my pussy till it was covered. He then surprised me as he took the handle of the shovel and pushed the dirt into my pussy. I started to protest but decided to let him have some fun for helping me. I could feel my pussy filling with the scratchy dirt. In my mind I could see the dirt in my pussy soaking up my pussy juices.

From my neck down I was covered with a thin layer of dirt. It felt like a blanket and I felt warm for the first time since getting out of the trunk. I could still see my firm tits poking out of the dirt. My husband was getting tired. I could see he was struggling with the shovel. I guess it had been a lot of work digging my grave and carrying me to it. He brought a shovel full of dirt to the grave and I drew up as I saw the shovel fly out of his hands. The shovel struck me in my left breast and I saw a deep red gash form. The blood flowed and mixed with the dirt. For the first time since we started I could see an apologetic look in my husband’s eyes.

My husband disappeared for about ten minutes. As I was thinking he had backed out I heard the shovel dig into the dirt. This shovel full of dirt hit me in me in the stomach that almost knocked the wind out of me. I looked down and saw the brick that had been dug from the ground. The rest gave him new vitality and the dirt came faster. He was covering me from the bottom up leaving my head for last. He surely did want to drag this out as long as possible. The dirt piled up and it became more difficult to breath. I watched his face as he covered me and realized that I did still love him even though he had left me.

The dirt on my feet was almost to the top of the grave and slope down to my neck. My husband stepped on the dirt and I could feel his weight as it compacted the dirt. Even with my pussy full of dirt and the root in my ass I felt like I was going to orgasm. In fact the dirt in my pussy felt almost like a rough cock. My breaths were coming shorter, in part from the weight of the dirt and my impending orgasm. I felt the orgasm go over the edge and opened my mouth to scream. When my mouth came open it was suddenly filled with dirt. I gagged and spit at the dirt in my mouth. I almost had it cleared when more dirt hit me in the mouth as it was open. I managed to get half of the dirt out when all of a sudden a tube was forced into my mouth. 

The tube was big enough to force my mouth wide open. This caused the dirt in my mouth to fall to my throat. I thought I was going to choke on the dirt but managed to swallow a small amount so that I could breathe. Now I knew what the tube was for. He wanted me to stay alive while he finished burying me. I saw the shovel come again and closed my eyes as the dirt covered my head. There must have been a rock in the dirt because I felt a sharp pain on my head. I wondered if there was a cut there but knew it did not matter now. Cuts did not matter to a dead woman. I wondered how long it takes a person to die from suffocation.

My husband spoke for the first time since bringing me here. I could not believe my dirt covered ears. He told me that I was a cheating bitch and deserved this. I wanted to scream that I had never cheated on him but the dirt and pipe in my mouth kept me silent. Now I knew why he hated me so much and there was nothing I could do about it. At this moment I would give anything to get out of here and tell him the truth. I tried to tell him that I loved him but knew he could not hear me.

The dirt covered me and there was eerie darkness surrounding me. I lay there crying with my closed dirt covered eyes. I did not want to die now, all I wanted was to tell him the truth. The thought crossed my mind that he might decide not to kill me and dig me up. As long as the pipe fed me fresh air there was a chance. Even though the dirt pressed against my chest I could breathe enough to live. I felt the dirt pack more on my body to the point it felt like it might crush me. I could see in my mind him dancing on my grave...

By now he was either digging me up or scattering leaves and brush over my grave. I wonder if he could be so cruel as to leave the pipe in so that I would live till starvation killed me. My body ached as the rocks and sticks in the dirt pushed into my body.

I don't know how long I lay in the darkness before I felt the tube wiggle in my mouth. At first I thought he might be toying with me and the all of a sudden the tube slipped from my mouth. Before I could close my mouth it filled with dirt. My breathing stopped immediately. I wondered how long I could hold my breath. My mouth remained wide open, held by the dirt. I tried to close it but it was impossible. It did not take long before my lungs began to hurt. I struggled against the soil around me to get out. I managed to compact the soil around my head and was able to move it a little. I felt the emptiness on my face and tried breathing from my nose. To my surprise fresh air poured into my lungs. I knew the small air pocket would not last long.I began to cry again and this time I felt the tears fall onto my dirt covered face.

My mind turned back to the last words my husband spoke. I would still die if only I could explain that I never cheated and never would. The crying made me use the air in the pocket quicker and soon I was gasping for breath. The time was getting close. Even if he changed his mind he could not save me.

As darkness fell on my oxygen starved brain I got my fantasy but lost my love. Dying is easier than I thought it would be. The earth cradled me in its warmth as darkness clouded my mind.If possible I would laugh because my last thought is going to be of the root in my ass.


The end



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