© Copyright 2011 - Steve Ford - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/m; F+M/m; domme; coffin; bond; wrap; encase; entomb; buried; revenge; cons/nc; X
Charles Prendergast was happy with the way he had managed to swindle Terry Higgins out of three hundred thousand pounds. He had been so successful; he had remained anonymous and undetected for the past two years and hadn’t been found by Terry, even though a twenty thousand pound price tag was put out for anyone who found him. Terry was the local villain. He was known to be extremely dangerous. But he couldn’t report this theft as that is where he got it from in the first place.
Charles Prendergast wasn’t his real name. He had chosen this name as anyone looking for him would not think a posh name like that could be Harry Cordon. (But for the story, I call him Charles) He never bought a new house. He sold his old one and had heard that Terry had paid a visit to the house and terrorised the new occupants. They sold up and moved out soon after.
Charles, nee Harry had a happy life. He rented a cheap cottage in the wilds of Scotland. Nobody would find him there. Nobody came by the cottage so he was happy to indulge in his hobby of self bondage. He could wait all day for the keys to his handcuffs to be released from the ice. There was no one about to catch him.
Now and then, Charles would go into the nearest city or venture further afield to find a domme who would indulge in his fantasies. It was at one of these trips he discovered the kink of being buried alive. Every now and then the thought that he would be stuck with no one willing to help him escape. The thought that people walking by wouldn’t even know he was there, six foot underground struggling to escape really turned him on. He wouldn’t know where he was. All he would see would be dirt. She really made it sound authentic for him. He had never had such a stiff erection since he was a teenager.
During another visit to the same domme, Charles asked about the being buried fantasy. He was told it was quite common. Charles even allowed himself to be tied up and placed in a coffin the domme had in her basement. He watched as she lowered the lid on him. He saw her laughing as she screwed the lid down. He felt claustrophobic and yet free to indulge in masturbation as the person watching could only see his face. After ten minutes he was let out. The satin lining of the coffin had left its indelible mark on him as he fancied trying it when he was naked. But the domme made him wear a satin nightdress.
He argued against it, but was told that there was no one else but him and her to see him, so what did it matter? When the lid was screwed down, he felt the claustrophobia setting in and the finality of being buried. Of course the domme he saw made sure there were enough air holes in the coffin. It was the last thing she needed was to have the police calling round about a dead client.
While Charles was in the city, unbeknown to him, Terry had traced him to his cottage. Carefully the door lock was picked and nothing was disturbed when they realised he was not there. It was only by accident he was found. One of his henchmen was on holiday touring and spotted him in a local town. He phoned Terry and was told to keep an eye open for Charles and see where he lived. Terry told him not to do anything silly He wanted to be there when he had Charles unable to escape.
The henchmen reported to Terry that Charles went to the city once a month. Terry thought it was to pick up more of his money. Charles had to be followed. Terry got another of his gang and his girlfriend to book into a hotel and follow Charles when he went to town.
It didn’t take more than three weeks when Charles was off once more. The henchman and his moll followed him and told Terry where Charles could be found. Terry was intrigued.
When the coast was clear, Terry saw the domme and offered her a great deal of money to allow Terry to get hold of Charles so he could retrieve his money. As the domme couldn’t make that sort of money in a month, she agreed. “But it will not leave you with much after you get your money back” she told him.
Terry replied, “It’s not about the money. It’s the principle of it and to give a warning shot to others who think they might try it for themselves” The domme agreed to help.
A month later Charles turned up on her doorstep as arranged. He was really getting excited about the burial fantasy. While he was there, Terry’s henchmen scoured the cottage for clues where Charles had put the money. Two hours later, Terry got the phone call. “He buried it in a box in his back garden. There is also a debit card, so presumably he has banked some of it. We have a hundred and ninety thousand here” Terry was pleased. But it all depended how much Charles had spent.
Back at the dommes place, Charles was listening to the domme. “How about next time I put you in the coffin and slide you into the back of a van and tell you I am really going to bury you alive?” Charles felt the tingle of excitement rush through his body. He agreed that would be the utmost. The domme said she would do it the next time as she had to hire a van and an undertaker’s suit for herself and her friends.
A month went by and Charles was back again. The domme suggested she wrap him up in bondage tape and slipped a shroud over that. Charles looked at the coffin lying on the floor that she had got for him. “It’s new?”
She told him she got it cheap from a coffin supplier who was a client of hers. His fantasy was to be strapped to a cross and hoisted in the air like he was being crucified. Charles was happy with the arrangement. He looked into the coffin. It was silk lined “And the base is padded for your comfort” he was told. The lid had a large viewing panel over the face and was held down by eight large hand screw latches. “There are plenty of air holes so you won’t suffocate” the domme told him.
Charles stripped naked in no time. The domme slowly wrapped him up from his ankles to his neck Charles was love the feeling of immobility. With his hands taped tightly to his sides, Charles was at the mercy of the domme. She helped him into the coffin.
“Shouldn’t my hands be crossed over my chest?” he asked and was told that might give him deep vein thrombosis if the blood couldn’t get past his elbows properly. Charles was happy with that explanation.
While he was standing, the domme slipped a cotton shroud over his body. “Why not the silk one?” he asked. And was told that cotton was more realistic as it was a proper shroud. Charles thought nothing of it as with the bondage tape holding him like a mummy, he couldn’t feel anything anyway.
The domme laid him down carefully and wrapped his feet up. She told him she was going to leave his head clear so he could shout and scream as much as he liked but he would only get out if she fancied letting him go.
She told him she was going to have lunch and see to another client in another room so he could wait there for a while until she got back. She lowered the lid over Charles. He watched as it slowly descended until it fitted the rest of the coffin. Charles had a magnificent view through the glass viewing panel. That was when he noticed the mirror on the ceiling. The domme screwed the lid down and Charles heard the screws of the latches tightening up. He would have got an erection if the bondage tape had not held him down.
The domme blew him a kiss and walked off. Charles looked up and saw his face, helpless in wooden his prison looking back at him. Two hours went by. Charles was getting hot, but at least he was still breathing. “One way to lose weight” he mumbled to himself.
“Okay. It’s time for your funeral. I have given you long enough” the domme said with her voice muffled by the wood of the coffin. Looking in the mirror, Charles saw she was wearing the undertakers’ suit. The domme had arranged four girls wearing the same undertakers’ outfits to act as pall bearers for him. That made him feel randier seeing these four gorgeous girls with him in the coffin and unable to reach them. One of them placed a sheet over the coffin, cutting off Charles view. He felt the coffin being lifted and carried down the stairs. He felt it sliding into the van and heard the doors shut behind him. He heard straps being placed so the coffin didn’t slide about. The sheet was removed and each of the girls was crying with handkerchiefs held to their eyes as if they were mourning the loss of someone. But of course, Charles was still alive.
Charles lost track of time. He felt dizzy and fell asleep. One of the girls had put a sleeping gas into the air hole. Charles woke up not knowing how long he had been in the coffin or where he was. His head was spinning. He realised he had been knocked out by gas.
He looked up and saw the sheet was back in place obscuring his view, but he saw it was light so he must be outside in daylight. The Domme would soon release him.
The sheet was whipped off and Charles saw Terry standing there looking down on him. The lid was removed from the coffin. Terry demanded to know where the rest of his money was. Charles refused to reveal the answer. “Never mind. Just throw him in the hole. I hope you girls are filming this. One last time. Tell me the pin number for this account and where the bank is or we bury you as you are. Tell the truth and we won’t cover you with dirt”
Charles was stood up. He saw the hills all around and realised he was in the back of nowhere. On one side was a pile of large rocks and stones. He was turned to face the hole. The hole was six feet deep. Grave size. Terry meant it. He would throw him into the hole and cover him up with dirt while he was still alive. Charles gave Terry all the details of where the money is and how much was in there. There was more than he had stolen from Terry.
“Okay, put him back in the box” Terry said gleefully.
“But you said you weren’t going to bury me if I told you where the money is”
“I said I wouldn’t throw you in the hole. You are going to get a proper funeral, coffin and all. As we are in Scotland, we will build a memorial cairn to you over your grave. That’s what the stones are for”
“What’s a cairn?”
“It’s a mound of stones built up to make sure you can’t get out of the hole. We will put a plaque in it to the memory of those missing presumed dead on it. No one will dare touch it if they think it’s a proper memorial”
Charles started to wriggle, but the tape held fast. The henchmen laid him down once more. The girls picked up the lid. Charles suddenly realised the domme wasn't there. “Oh, you’ve finally worked it out. The domme never came with us so she doesn’t know where you are. She will get a copy of the film so she will know that if she grasses on us, she will join you. As a matter of interest, the girls are my friends girlfriends and they are more evil than we are. They wanted to slice off your manhood and balls and shove them in your mouth as a gag, but I want to hear you scream all the way to the bottom of the grave. We’ve attached tubes to the air holes so you won’t have a quick end. The cairn will hide the end of the pipe up. It should take you about two weeks to die and then all your troubles will be over. You have paid your rent up for the cottage for six months, so it will be a long time before anyone goes looking for you. The car has been torched as well and sent to the crushing plant. It’s soon on its way into the North Sea”.
The lid was positioned over the coffin. Charles bent his legs as best he could and lifted his head. But the girls combined strength and weight was too much for him and he was pushed back into the coffin. The girls sat on the lid while they screwed the latches down once more.
Charles watched as the girls lifted his coffin and slowly walked to the grave. He felt the bump as he was put on the floor and then as he was lifted using straps. The girls lifted him over the hole and slowly lowered him into it. “You are lucky. Not many people get to have such beautiful undertakers as you have” Terry said mockingly.
Charles started to plead for mercy, but he was ignored. He felt the coffin bump the sides of the grave and watched as the earth rose up gradually obscuring any view he might have had except that of the sky.
Terry said they were not to fill the hole in yet. They might as well have a picnic and a few drinks “To the memory of Harry” Charles (Harry) struggled but knew there was no escaping his tomb even if they left him there like that. He watched the sun go across the sky. He could tell it was afternoon as the shadows were now forming from the other side of his grave.
Charles was screaming for mercy, but he was ignored. He flinched as he heard the first bit of dirt hit his coffin. Each person was throwing a handful of dirt on him. Then the serious stuff started. He heard the dirt start to cascade down on him. But so far they had left his viewing panel clear. He heard shovel full after shovel full hit the rest of his coffin.
Suddenly the girls appeared and each blew him a kiss of goodbye and pretended to be weeping. Terry was the last face he saw looking down at him and gloating. Then the dirt hit the viewing pane and all light went out. Now he really felt claustrophobic. The dirt got quieter and quieter as it piled up on top of him.
He heard the thump of the heavy stones as they were dropped on top of his grave. But even that got quieter as the smaller stones were put in place at the top.
Terry said they shouldn’t cement it up as it would show it isn’t a proper cairn. It was best it was left dry. Finally he put the plaque on it and that was the only thing cemented in place.
Quickly the area was tidied up and the group jumped into their cars and the van. They sped off leaving Charles there alone, in darkness screaming hopelessly in his coffin. Never to be thought of again by anybody.