© Copyright 2015 - anonseven77 - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/m; D/s; outdoors; casket; buried; encased; game; grownover; voy; mast; climax; cons; X
Having spent most of my life working in a high stress field, when it was time to retire I moved away from the city to a very rural area. My family had once been farmers, and I had inherited the farm, or rather what was left of it. It was really just a house and several acres of land that had been left to the weeds for decades. I liked it because I didn't have any neighbors for miles in any direction. It was perfect for a no stress life.
I didn't miss the hustle and bustle of the city at all, but after a while I found that I did miss the kinky side of it. At one time I had been deeply involved in that community, and had even earned a bit of a reputation as a bondage top. I thought I had gotten all of that out of my system. I had tried just about everything and it had grown boring. Maybe I just needed something new because lately I've been spending my evenings on chat rooms talking to other kinky people. There's one lad who has an idea that's intrigued me.
He wants to be buried alive in a coffin.
When the lad first brought up the subject, I didn't know what to think. I've run into wild ideas before, but this was something new to me. In my experience when I run into something this 'out there', it's best to just let the other guy talk. See what he has to say.
He probably saw something in a movie, or read a story somewhere, and he's got a momentary fascination. If confronted with the possibility of actually doing anything about it, he's likely to scurry away like a frightened mouse. If I let him talk I might at least get a good masturbation fantasy out of it.
This was a pretty wild idea, but I just couldn't get it out of my head. The next couple of days I went about my business, such as it is puttering around the house, and doing some work in the garden. I kept coming back to my conversation with him and couldn't help thinking about what he had described.
I could never have done what he wanted when I lived in the city, but now... well my place was pretty well isolated. No one around for miles, and I didn't have many visitors. Hell, even my mail was delivered to a box in town. With the gentle rolling wooded hills that surrounded me, no one could even see my place until they were right up next to it. To get even that close you had to go past a gate and take a private road. This really would be the perfect spot for this kind of thing.
That evening I got back online and sure enough the lad was there as well. I wanted to see him as we spoke, so I asked him to video chat. There are some things you just can't tell with text. Was he a normal guy with an odd fetish, or a crazy person? How old was he? That sort of thing.
Once the camera came on I could see that he wasn't a particularly great looking fellow, about average, mid-thirties, and a little pudgy. It was clear that he was pretty much what his profile had said he was, which was encouraging in and of itself. It only took a moment for him to bring up the subject I was interested in. He was obviously excited by the idea.
"How long have you fantasized about being buried alive?" I asked him.
"I've been thinking about it since I was a kid," he told me. "There was an episode of Ray Bradbury's Theater where a wealthy inventor who was about to die made a special coffin. He told his brother that he wanted to be buried in it. The brother, who was always looking for a buck, ignored his wishes and had him buried in something cheap when the time came. He searched the special coffin thinking that it might contain his brother's money. which he had been unable to find elsewhere in the house. When he climbed inside, the lid closed on him, and he found that it was all a trap. The mechanical coffin buried him alive – just as his brother intended it to do. Ever since I saw that episode I've been fascinated by the idea of being buried alive."
"Well that's all well and good for fantasy," I told him, "but in the real world it would be hard work and cost a bit of money. Not to mention the risk involved."
"Yeah, but life is dangerous," he countered. "We take chances everyday just driving to work. I've thought about it a lot, and I think it could be done. I'd even be willing to pay for it... if I could just find someone willing to help."
My interest was peaked by now. "So this is more than just a fantasy for you son? It's something that you actually want to do?"
"Oh yes Sir. Like I said, I've been thinking about this for years. If I could find someone that would be willing, I'd definitely do it Sir."
"Well... let's suppose that you found someone, and worked out all of the problems and issues involved... It's still a lot of work if you were just going to be underground for a few hours."
"Oh no Sir. I'd want more than just a few hours. Sure, we'd have to do some tests at first, but once we got that out of the way I'd want to be buried for at least a week or two. The first time anyway. Ultimately maybe a lot longer."
We chatted a bit more and then said goodnight. My dick was throbbing with excitement. I needed to take care of it and spend some time processing what he had said. While I had no desire of my own to be buried, the idea of burying someone else, of having that much power over someone... that idea was very VERY pleasing to me.
A week passed. As I was not someone who did things impulsively I tried to put the idea out of my head... but I couldn't. The more I tried to ignore it, the more it crept into my thoughts.
I searched online and found the TV episode that he'd described. It was titled "The Coffin", and was quite a good episode. I could see why it had made an impression on the lad. It certainly made one on me.
He must have sensed that I was more than a little curious about this, because he also pointed me at a few website with stories about the subject. He highly recommended a site called Grometsplaza, and pointed to several stories there. I ended up spending hours reading and rereading. It was becoming an obsession, and my mind wouldn't let me forget the images those stories created. I hadn't been this horny in years.
I started to think about how it could be done. Was it possible? How long could someone be buried and live to tell about it?
The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to know.
I chatted with the lad again and we started making plans.
It took a couple of months to arrange everything. He had to get time off of work, there was equipment to buy, etc... but it came together none-the-less.
The first thing I looked at was buying a coffin. I quickly learned two things. First, what I wanted was a casket, and second, I wasn't going to be buying one.
As it turns out, a coffin is one of those boxes that you see in old western movies. The shoulder area is wider then the base, and it leaves very little room for movement. A casket on the other hand is basically a rectangular crate. It offers more room, is sturdier, and is much easier to build. That last part would be very important.
Not having every dealt with a funeral, I had no idea that caskets were so expensive. It seems that you can spend anywhere from a couple grand, up to tens of thousands on one. Far outside my budget, and far more than I was willing to allow the lad to spend. Besides, I didn't need the paper trail if anything went wrong.
I knew a bit of woodcraft, so I made the decision to build one. I looked for plans online without a lot of success. It wasn't terribly complicated though, so I got his measurements and built a sturdy box with a hinged lid.
I worked carefully and made sure to seal and stain the wood so that it would be as water tight as possible. I left enough room inside so that I could add a layer of padding on the sides, with the bottom have a nice thick layer.
I drilled a couple of holes in the bottom to allow for tubes to remove his waste, and a couple more in the lid for food and water. I added rubber gaskets to these to seal around the tubing when it was installed.
I made two large holes on each side for air. I put air filters in these, and external boxes over them. The idea being that the air hoses would connect to these boxes on the outside of the casket, and the air filters would diminish any 'breeze' created by the external fans.
A few weeks later and I done with the casket. Examining it I had to say that it looked pretty good. It was heavy, but we'd manage.
I selected a spot in my back yard that was off to the side, and near enough to my porch so that I could sit there and watch it. That's where we would dig when the time came. Adjacent to that site I put up a small shed.
I bought a couple of five gallon plastic drums and made a shelf for them in the shed. These would hold water and whatever liquified food that he would eat through his tubing. The shed would also hold two fans that would connect to his air tubing. One to push air into the casket, and one to pull it out.
I thought long and hard about the problem of his waste, and decided that there really was no perfect solution. Once down there, we both wanted him sealed in, so the waste had to stay down there, but out of the way somehow. Finally we decided to just get a 55 gallon drum and bury that under his grave. We'd poke some holes in the side, and make a primitive septic tank. Not perfect, but the best we could come up with.
With almost everything done, the time came to put our plan into motion.
He arrived at my place at the time that he said he would, which pleased me greatly. Even though I had already spent a significant amount of money on this endeavor, I knew that there was a better then even chance that it would all be for nothing. Until the guy actually shows up at your door, you have to assume that he's not going to do so. I've had way too many people back out at the last minute, and usually with no further contact. He was here though, so I knew he was serious.
We had talked about what was going to happen during his week here, so that there would be no surprises. Since this was the first time either of us had ever done anything like this, we were going to take it slow. We would experiment before we got around to actually burying him. Better to be safe than sorry.
Once he cleaned himself up from his long trip I showed him his casket. He seemed to like it a lot, and gave it a close examination. He was all too eager to grab the shovel and begin to dig his own grave.
As we had agreed, he dug down about three feet. With the casket being about 14 inches tall, that depth would mean that he'd have about two feet of earth on top of him after he was buried. Enough to be real, but not so much that I couldn't dig him out in a hurry if I had to. Of course once the grave itself was dug, he still had to dig another hole at the bottom that went down several more feet for the waste tank.
He wasn't exactly in the best of shape, so it took him a couple hours to get the job done. I sat in a lawn chair and watched. This was his job to do. I'd have enough work digging him up afterwards.
The earth was firm, but yielded to his shovel. The sides didn't collapse and he made good progress. As this had been a farm once, there were few rocks to dig around. He was more than a little sore by the time he was done, but he was still in good spirits as we wrestled the waste tank down, hooked up the tubing, and buried it.
We had talked a great deal about ways of lowering the casket into the ground with him inside, but hadn't come up with anything practical. Once he tried to lift it he understood why I couldn't do it myself. In the end, the two of us lowered the empty casket down. He'd just have to get into it there.
I sent him inside for a shower while I attached all of the plumping and checked everything. He returned just as I finished.
"Alright, it's time for our first test. Go ahead and get in," I told him.
He climbed into the hole and laid down in the casket. We didn't bother hooking him up to the waste tubes.
"Yes Sir," he replied.
"Good. I've got the fans going and everything is hooked up. Go ahead, close the lid, and check it out."
He reached up and eased the lid down. I turned on the intercom.
"Can you hear me?"
"Yes Sir. You're a bit loud though."
I fiddled with the volume. "How's that?" I asked.
"Good. Now try the food and water tubes."
"Okay, now press the signal device a couple of times and let's see if it works." This was a button that flashed a light and set off a buzzer. It was basically a doorbell I had re-purposed. I meant it as a way for him to let me know that he was okay without having to use the intercom.
The green light flashed on the panel a couple of times, and the buzzer buzzed.
I asked if he was getting enough air.
"So far, so good Sir. No problems."
"Alright then. It's 2 PM now. I want you to stay in there until 6 pm. I'll come and get you then for dinner. If you run into any problems you can just pop open the lid and let me know."
"Thank you Sir."
Nothing went wrong with this first test, and at 6 O’clock I told him to come on up. I had a nice steak dinner, while he ate a bit of soup. He had been on a liquid diet for several days now, and would continue with that the entire time he was buried. Fewer problems that way.
We had a relaxing night and went to bed. I got up at my usual 5 AM and woke him as well. This was very early for him, but he didn't seem to mind. He knew that today was special and that he would be able to rest again shortly.
As soon as he was done in the bathroom, I hustled him into the back yard, and down into the casket. This time we hooked him up to the waste tubes.
"You're going to be in there until 6 PM tonight son. A full 12 hours." He had a broad smile on his face as he settled into place.
I closed the lid and locked it with four padlocks. He had asked for this to make sure that he didn't try to get out early. I was all too willing to agree.
The time passed very quickly for me. Having him locked in the casket felt good. It was the first time that I started to feel like he was really under my control.
I ate breakfast while I waited, and then lunch. I puttered around a bit, and spent a lot of time sitting on the back porch listening to him breath over the intercom. He couldn't hear me, but I could hear him. Every now and then the green light would come on briefly as he pushed the button to let me know he was alright. If he had run into a problem he would have held the button down, or pressed it repeatedly.
One hour passed... two hours... four, six, eight, the longer he was in there, the better I liked it, and the harder I got. I was loving this far more than I had thought possible.
At 5 PM I hadn't seen the green light come on in a while, so I decided to break his silence.
"How are you doing in there son?"
I could hear him gasp and heard a bang over the intercom.
"I'm... I'm fine Sir. I must have dozed off. Hit my head. How long have I been down here Sir?"
"Almost 11 hours son."
"Only an hour to go then Sir." He sounded disappointed.
"Well, I was thinking about that son. If everything's going as expected, there's really no reason for us to postpone your burial until tomorrow now is there? Why don't I just fill in your grave right now, and be done with it? I could keep you down there for about three days." I listened for a moment to see if I could hear any reaction. When he didn't say anything, I continued. "That's what you want, isn't it son? To be buried for as long as possible?"
"Yes Sir." He said quickly, and with enthusiasm. "Please bury me now."
"Alright then. I'll speak to you again in a few hours."
I knew that this wasn't what he had been expecting. We had talked about burying him in the morning, and only for the day, but god I loved this power I had over him, and it was easy to hear in his voice that he loved the idea as well.
I hurried over to the grave and grabbed the shovel. I made sure that the first few shovelfuls of earth landed hard right about where his chest was. I wanted him to really hear the soil pounding down on him. I wanted him to feel the vibrations as the dirt piled up and over him.
I had to slow down a bit after that, but the grave filled quickly. In what felt like no time at all I was done, and staring down at a lovely mound of fresh earth. I was covered with a sheen of sweat and breathing a bit heavily, but knowing that he was down there, trapped underneath all that soil, made it all worthwhile.
I stood over the grave and unzipped my fly. My cock popped out... already hard. It only took a quick touch to get me to cum. I let it fall on the mound... a white string on his grave. I was instantly hard all over again.
Having satisfied my immediate need, I checked the equipment and returned to the house. Grabbing a few beers, I settled in on the back porch to listen to him breath.
I was concerned at first that he was breathing quite hard. I wished that I had installed a camera so that I could see him. I was just about to speak to him when I heard him grunt, and then relax. I laughed out loud as I realized what he had been doing. He was obviously enjoying this as much as I was.
I kept him down there for three days. Three wonderfully intense days for both of us. At first I talked to him every few hours to make sure he was doing alright, but he asked me to stop at the end of the first day. Our conversations were reminding him that he was going to be dug up pretty soon, and he wanted to pretend that he was going to be buried forever. After that I left him alone in silence, but continued to listen to him, and insisted that he press the signal device regularly.
When the time came, I dug him out and cleaned him up. He was very excited about his time underground, and promised to return as soon as he could. He wanted to do it again.
Three months later he was back, and I was glad to see him. We had talked about his experience and I made a few improvements before he got there.
I added an infra-red camera to the interior of the casket and I also purchased a heart-rate monitor with a chest strap that he would wear. With these two items I would be able to keep a better eye on his condition, especially when he was buried for longer durations.
I made some adjustments to the padding, as he had complained that it was lumpy. I had to repair some minor damage to the casket and the tubing that had resulted from it being buried and dug up, but over all it had all worked well and survived the experiment in good shape.
I was glad that I had gotten all of that out of the way before hand so that when he arrived we didn't need to waste any time. Within a half hour of his car door closing he was snugly tucked back into his new favorite bed, under two feet of soil.
Once again he only had a week of vacation, but we made the most of it. He spent five full days under the ground. Five glorious days under my absolute power and control before I very reluctantly dug him up.
He spent another day with me before returning home. I could tell that he really wanted to stay and go back under, but once again he promised to return as soon as he could.
He did return again a few months later, but things didn't work out so well. It had grown cold and we were well into winter. While the ground for his grave was still workable, the rest of the soil had frozen.
I warned him that it was probably too cold, but he wanted to try it anyway. Armed with a blanket, he got in the casket and I covered him up. About six hours later I dug him up. With only two feet of soil on top of him, it was just too cold. We'd try again in the spring.
The following year he came several times. Each time I'd bury him for five or six days and we'd both enjoy it. He was wanting even more... so the last time he was here he was under for ten days. We enjoyed that a lot. He left wishing that he could stay under even longer.
Fate conspired against him though. He had used up all of his vacation time, and his work kept him busy through the rest of the summer, the fall, and well into winter. By the time he had earned enough vacation, the ground was too hard to work with, and he would have to wait until spring.
The season was just turning when he called me. He was very upset. It seems that he had been layed off. After 12 years at his present job, the company was going out of business. He didn't know what he was going to do.
Immediately I took hold of the situation. "Look," I said, "the first thing you need to do is relax. See this as an opportunity, not a curse. You've wanted to be buried for a longer time, but never had the opportunity. Well, now you have the time. Put your things in storage, move out of your apartment, and get your ass out here. We'll have some fun, you'll have some time to think about what you want to do, and then you can move on with your life."
He didn't take much convincing and arrived on my doorstep within the week.
I had spent a great deal of time thinking about our arrangement, and gave him my thoughts when he got there.
"Alright," I told him. "Since we now have the time to do things right, we're going to change how we've been doing this a bit."
He was curious, but let me talk.
"First of all, I've had a bit of time since you were last here. I rented a back-hoe and dug up the grave and the yard. The grave itself is now seven and a half feet deep. Once your casket is buried, you'll have a full six feet of earth on top of you."
"I thought you'd like that. I also dug out the yard and installed a new septic system. It's still not perfect, but it's a whole lot better that what we had. You shouldn't have any more problems with the odor, or anything else, backing up."
"Beyond that, I've purchased a heater that I can attach to the air system, should you need it. I'm not sure how cold it will be at that depth, but you'll be warm no matter what."
"One last thing. Since you like the idea of not knowing how long you're going to be buried, and the fantasy of maybe not coming out, we're going to play a game. I'm not going to tell you how long you're going to be buried. I'll guarantee that it will be at least two weeks, but it might be more... maybe a lot more."
I let that sink in for a moment and then continued.
"I'm going to roll some dice and add that amount to your initial two weeks. So if I roll a 5, you'll be buried for 19 days. 14 + 5. Got it?"
"Of course I'm not going to tell you what I rolled. When you've been buried for that long, I'll get on the intercom and ask you how long you THINK you've been down there. If you tell me the right number, I'll dig you up."
"If you don't get the right number, well... you'll just have to stay down there for whatever the difference is between your answer and the correct answer. So that it's not TOO easy, I'll also roll the dice again and add that number in as well."
"That sounds pretty hard Sir," he said.
"To make it a LITTLE easier, I'll tell you how many days off you are, but not what direction. So if you've been buried for say 19 days, but you guess 17, I'll tell you that you're off by 2, but not if you're over or under. Is that better?"
"Of course if you REALLY want out, you just need to tell me and I'll let you out. Fair enough?
"No Sir. I won't do that Sir. I want to play the game fairly."
"Are you saying that you don't want the option to be able to get out if you don't get the number correct?" He nodded. "I'll allow you to make that decision, but you don't get to change your mind after you're buried. Are you SURE?"
"That's right Sir. No option. Either I get it right, or I stay buried, even if I never get out. I also don't want you to talk to me except for when I need to guess the number. I want this burial to be as real as possible Sir."
"If that's your choice then son. So be it." Who was I to deny him what he wanted?
We talked for a couple of minutes more. He had a few more requests to make this burial extra special for him. They seemed reasonable, so I agreed to them.
With his choices made clear, I led him down the familiar path to his grave site. While I had re-dug it, I hadn't moved it. I helped him get settled in, closed the lid, and padlocked it. As he had requested, I got out my power screwdriver then, and after inserting a couple dozen screws, the lid was very well secured.
I checked the lines carefully, climbed out, and removed the ladder. Standing at the surface and looking down, the casket was in shadow. Now this was a real grave. I took a few pictures, and then started filling it in, one shovelful at a time.
Filling this new grave, with it's full six foot depth, took a lot more work than filling the old one had. This was especially true because I had to stop and compact the earth after every foot. The lad had wanted to ensure that he couldn't escape – that he could only get out if he was let out. This was one of the things he had asked for, insisted on really, and I was only too happy to comply.
After I shoveled in each foot of soil, I packed it tight until it was about half of its initial volume, and then dampened it with the hose so that it would settle even more. It would be harder than hell to dig up later, but I'd worry about it then. He wanted it tightly packed, and I made damn sure it was. The result of all of this packing was that I had to bring in some earth from elsewhere in the yard to fill the grave to the top of the lawn. I finished with only a slight mound.
I took more pictures and then settled on the porch for a long afternoon and evening of watching him on the camera. I had been concerned with how well the camera would work, but it worked beautifully. It picked up infra-red light and gave me a clear picture of him laying there, while allowing him to be in complete darkness. It was expensive, but very much worth the money.
Knowing that he was going to be down there for a while, I decided to rototill the entire yard and plant new grass seed. Within two weeks there was hardly any sign of the grave at all. Only I knew it was there.
I enjoyed the power I had over him immensely. Every few days I topped off his water and food and thought about just not doing it. What would he think if he sucked on his tubes and nothing came out? Would he panic? I didn't do it, because that would have meant that the game would be over, and I didn't want that. Still, it was a nice fantasy.
Once the new lawn came in, I had a few friends over for a cook-out. They had no idea that there was a living person buried just below where they ate their burgers and drank their beers. I had a smile on my face the entire time. Several of them wondered what I was so happy about.
I got pretty drunk that night and decided to have some fun with the lad. I replaced his water with beer and watched him react to it on the camera. It was fun for a few hours.
Alas, the time came to see if he was coming out. I had rolled a 7 on the dice, so that made for a total of 21 days that he had been under. Three weeks. Longer than ever before.
"Today's the day son," I said softly into the microphone. I could see on the camera that I had startled him.
"huh? Oh. uh... yes Sir."
"Just tell me how many days you've been buried son, and I'll dig you out."
"Its so hard to keep track of time Sir."
Considering how long he'd been buried, I wasn't at all surprised that he had lost track of the time.
"Never-the-less I need an answer son."
"I... I'm ready Sir. I think I've been buried... 16 days Sir."
With a huge smile on my face I informed him of his fate. "Sorry son. That is not correct. You're off by 5 days. I'll talk to you again in a while."
He was going to be down there for at least 5 more days. I rolled the dice and saw that he was going to be down there for a total of 29 days. This was going to be more fun than I had thought!
I spoke to him again on that day and asked him for a new number. I smiled as he answered. I really didn't want to dig him up today. He'd only been down there a month after all! He had gotten the random number correct, but started from the wrong direction!
"Sorry again son. You are now 10 days off. I'll speak to you again soon."
I rolled again and saw that I'd be speaking to him again on the 43rd day of his interment. The day came, and once again he guessed wrong. He earned himself even more time under the ground. This game went on until he had been buried for just over two months. By then I thought we were approaching the end. His guesses were getting pretty close. Most of the time he was only off by a day or two.
I wasn't getting tired of this at all! I had thought that I would have. I had thought that I'd have dug him up by now. The odd thing was... not only wasn't I tired of it, I loved it all the more! The longer he was down there, the better I liked it. I was growing quite fond of having the lad down there.
Still, I thought with his guesses being so close, it was only a matter of that random die roll. Sooner or later he would hit the magic number and I'd have to free him. But that's not what happened.
As we approached the end of the third month, he guesses grew wilder. When he made a guess that would see him stay down there for a full month until his next chance, I broke the rules and talked to him.
"Are you sure that you want to choose that number lad? You're not just growing frustrated are you?"
He was very defiant however.
"No Sir. That's my choice and I'm sticking with it."
By the rules of the game I had no option but to inform him that he was 35 days off and didn't contact him again until he was just into his 5th month underground.
His next guess floored me. I again broke the rules and talked to him. Again he insisted upon it. This time I said no, and told him I'd talk to him again in the morning to see if he'd changed his mind.
He said that he'd chosen his number, and demanded that I accept it.
So with a raging hard on, I told him that he was 58 days off and wished him well.
The seasons had turned and it was getting cold. Damn cold. The ground was starting to freeze.
With some reservations, I turned on the intercom.
"Son. I think it's time to end this game. You've been buried for six long months, and I think you know that. You have to know that. In a few weeks it'll be too cold to dig you up even if I wanted to. You'll be stuck down there until spring. By then you'll have been buried close to a year."
"Son, if you stay down there that long I doubt you'd ever recover physically. Hell, even if I dig you up today its going to be a couple of weeks, or more, before you can walk again."
I watched on the camera and knew that he was listening. I licked my lips and tried to ignore the throbbing in my pants. I had to play fair after all. I had to give him one last chance.
"Now listen to me son. I don't think that you want to be dug up. I think that you like it down there. You wouldn't have chosen the numbers you did if you wanted to get out."
I paused to let that sink in.
"I'll tell you something else son. I don't want to dig you up. I think you should stay down there. I think its where you were meant to be."
Once again I paused for a moment.
"I'm not a monster son. If you want out, I will dig you out."
I wanted him to know that I was serious. He could be free if he wanted to be.
"So tell me son. What do you want to do?"
There was silence for several minutes. I had to check the camera closely to make sure he was still awake and listening.
Finally, he spoke.
"You're right Sir," he said quietly. "I... I don't want out. I've never wanted out. From the first time I met you... all I've wanted was to stay here, buried alive in my grave." His spoke faster now. The words tumbling out as if he had been rehearsing this speech for a long time.
"I want to stay here. I have nothing to return to. I don't really have any friends that would miss me. I don't have any family. I don't even have a job anymore. This is where I belong. I truly want to stay here forever. Buried alive. Please Sir. Let this be my final resting place. Let this truly be my grave."
I couldn't hold it in any more and came hard in my pants. This lad was giving me everything I wanted. Far more than I could expect. Far more than I deserved. He was giving me ultimate power over him. Forever.
"Very well then son." I told him after I recovered a bit. "If that's your decision then rest well. Rest in peace."
I turned off the intercom for the final time. It was confirmed. It was what he wanted and I was only too happy to give it to him. I owned him now. I owned him fully, and completely, and permanently. I never felt such a rush of power before in my life. The lad had awakened a buried desire in me that I never knew I had, and I would be eternally grateful for having found it.
The winter months were long, but the glow of the monitor kept me warm as I watch him laying there under the earth, under my control.
From time to time though, I couldn't help looking out into my yard and noticing how big it was. How empty. If there was one lad who had this fetish, this strange and wonderful desire, there must be more. After all, while I had one grave out there now, there was room for more. A whole cemetery's worth.
Now, what chat room did I find him in?
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