Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

The Box

by HungryGuy

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2016 - HungryGuy - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; M/f; dungeon; box; strip; enclose; stuck; caught; objectify; hum; use; urine; oral; deepthroat; mast; climax; cons/reluct; X

Gail drove down the quiet suburban street on a Thursday evening and pulled into a driveway of a house that looked like a cookie-cutter image of all the others in the neighborhood. She picked up her clipboard and glanced at the couple in the back seat of her car. "This home is right in your price range, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. It has a finished basement, and two large bedrooms."

The woman in the back glanced at her husband and said "Looks okay from the outside. What do you think, honey?"

The man said to his wife, "I guess," then looked at Gail and said, "How many bathrooms?"

Gail looked at her clipboard and said, "Two and two halves?"

"Uhm," said the man, "It's been a while since elementary school but doesn't two and two halves equal three?"

Gail laughed. "Not in real estate. It looks like it has full bath upstairs, a master bath off the master bedroom, a half bath on the first floor, and a half bath in the basement."

"I'd like to see it," said the woman.

Gail led her two customers to the front door and rang the bell in case the seller was home.

A geeky-looking guy in a 'Starfleet Academy' - tee-shirt opened the door.

"Hi!" said Gail holding out her hand. "I'm Gail from Land Ho!"

"Oh, yes," he said. "Your office called me this morning and said someone would be showing my house to some buyers. Come in."

"Thank you," said Gail. To the couple, she said, "Come on in."

Gail let the buyers through the foyer and into the L-shaped living room. Gail twiddled the dimmer switch and said, "As you can see, the light over the dining table is controlled by a dimmer switch, to set the mood of the evening."

"Mmm, hmmm," said Mr. Johnson.

"Can we see the kitchen?" asked Mrs. Johnson.

"Right this way!" said Gail.

"Uhm," said Mr. Johnson. "It's wired for cable, right?"

Gail looked at her clipboard, "Yes. I don't think the seller would mind if we turned the TV on for a second." She stepped across the room and turned on the TV, and the cable listings started scrolling down the screen.

"The kitchen..." said Mrs. Johnson.

"The kitchen, "said Gail as she stepped into the kitchen, "has all new appliances, including a stainless steel side-by-side refrigerator, smooth-top electric stove, and dishwasher."

Mrs. Johnson spent some time looking in the drawers and cabinets.

"You said it has two bedrooms?" said Mr. Johnson.

"Yes. Shall we go upstairs?"

"Sure," said Mrs. Johnson.

Gail led her buyers upstairs and stepped into one the master bedroom. "See! What a large bedroom!" said Gail.

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson walked through the bedroom and peeked into the master bathroom.

She then showed her buyers the main bathroom off the hallway and the second bedroom.

"Very nice," said Mrs. Johnson.

"Not bad," said Mr. Johnson. "Can we see the basement?"

"Sure!" said Gail, and led them back downstairs and then down to the finished basement.

"Oh, a medieval motif!" said Mrs. Johnson as she entered the recreation room that resembled an English pub with exposed beams and stonework.

The room was filled with odd-looking items of furniture, some covered with drop cloths. The homeowner was sitting on a sofa reading a magazine. Spider plants and other plants hung from heavy hooks bolted to the ceiling.

"Very nice!" said Mr. Johnson. "A very cozy pub-like atmosphere."

Mrs. Johnson stepped into the laundry room while Mr. Johnson explored the utility room.

Gail walked over to the seller, "You must be the seller, Mr. Fredashay?"

"Yes. You can call me Ben."

"Has it been on the market long?"

"Just this past week," he said. "A few people have been through it so far, but while I was at work. This is the first showing when I was home."

"So you're still packing up to move?" she asked.

"Yeah, slowly."

Gail laughed, "I know how that is. What is that for?" she asked pointing to a large wooden X mounted on the wall with eye-bolts at the ends of each of the arms of the X."

"Uhm, It's just a piece of exercise equipment," he said.

"I see," she said. And what is this thing?" she asked pointing to an, obviously, home-made 4' cube plywood crate with a two-piece padded top with a 6" hole in the center where the two pieces meet.

"Just a table," he said as his face turned red.

"Oh," said Gail imagining how such a table might be used and feeling herself getting wet down there.

A little later, Gail was driving her buyers back to her real estate office. "So, did you like that house?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Johnson. "It had such a beautiful kitchen, didn't it dear?"

"Yeah!" said Mr. Johnson. "I really liked that party room in the basement."

"That was nice," said Mrs. Johnson, "But I wonder what all those weird shapes were down there."

"Oh, he's probably a sculptor or something," said Mr. Johnson.

"But how do all those plants do so well in a basement room without any sunlight?" Mrs. Johnson asked. "They couldn't have been there that long. I wonder what he 'REALLY' used that room for."

'Me too!' thought Gail.

After dropping her clients off at the office, she called the homeowner and asked to see the house again. "As a Realtor," she said, "I'd like to examine the kitchen and closet space for the next showing."

"Now?" he asked.

"Whenever is most convenient for you," said Gail. "How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Friday, and I'll be at work all day. Realtors have been bringing people through it all week while I'm at work, so I have no problem with that."

"Good!" said Gail.

The following day, Gail was in the house once again. She walked right past the kitchen without even glancing in, and opened the door to the stairs and went down to the finished basement. She stepped over to the crate and examined it. The two-piece top was hinged on the edges and the two pieces lifted up easily.

Inside, the bottom was padded with foam rubber, but lined with plastic--like, maybe, a plastic shower curtain. She kicked her shoes off and lifted a leg up and stepped inside. Kneeling inside it, she closed one of the top panels, positioning her neck in the half-circle that, curiously, was just the perfect diameter for a neck to pass through. The panel didn't quite close down completely. She tried to pull it down so that it would be flat and level, but it wouldn't fully close. She flipped it open and over the side of the box and the pulled the other panel closed instead. That one, too, wouldn't close all the way.

'Never mind then,' she thought. Rather than forcing it and risk breaking it, she left it ajar.

Gasping, she felt herself getting wet. 'What if Ben came home early from work on a Friday and caught her messing with his dungeon furniture?' Dismissing the thought, she lifted the panel and stepped out of the box.

She should leave now. What purpose is there in lingering, she asked herself. It's obvious what this box is.

She took a step toward the stairs. Then she turned around. It was still early. Even if he left work early on this Friday, it was still the morning hours.

She looked around the room again, and began to undress. She removed her blouse and bra, and folded them neatly and set them in a chair where she had placed her shoes. Then she pulled her skirt off and folded it on her other clothing. Wearing just a panty, she hesitated, then removed that as well and placed it folded on the rest of her clothes.

'What am I doing?' she thought as she felt her juices drip down one of her legs. 'Well, I'll get inside for just a few minutes, give myself release, then leave. He'll never know I was here.'

She stepped inside the box again and closed that one top panel over again placing her neck in the half-circle. Again, the panel wouldn't close down fully.

'That's actually a relief,' she thought. 'No way to get trapped.'

She imagined that, if both panels would close fully around her neck, it would look like her disembodied head were sitting upon a wooden table. She then reached out and swung the other panel up and over. She had to lift up slightly so that both panels would close around her neck.

With both panels ajar encircling her neck, she lowered herself slowly. Knowing that the panels wouldn't close fully, she lowered herself carefully not to pinch her neck in the narrow neck opening formed by the two panels.

She slowly lowered herself to the point where the panels had barely closed before, when she heard a distinct 'CLICK!'

The noise startled her and she flinched against the panel that held her down.

"Aaah!" she screamed involuntarily. Her heart began pounding.

She swallowed hard. 'They can't be locked. It's just nerves.'

She pushed the panels gently upward, but they were solidly in place.

' 'No problem,' she thought. 'I'll just squeeze my hand through this hole and find the catch.'

But there was barely a fraction of an inch of clearance around her neck. She couldn't fit her hand through.

She tried to swing her legs out from under her and press against the box with her feet, but the interior of the box was too cramped to get any leverage.

Panic set it. She started pounding on the panels and the walls of the box with her fists, but the box was too solid, and the top panels latched too securely.

'Shit!' she cried.

Gail swallowed and tried to gain her composure. 'I'm in no real danger. He'll be home later and let me out.'

She suddenly noticed her feminine odor wafting up through the gap in that neck hole. Reaching down, she discovered that she was wetter than ever.

She sighed. 'No time for THAT now.' She slowly felt all around the interior of the box for some interior catch or at lease a bolt or something to loosen.

After an hour, she had felt nothing but featureless wood and plastic inside the box. On top of that, it was close to noon, and was getting hungry and thirsty.

She swallowed and continued to search for some hidden interior latch. eventually, her hand made its way down between her legs. She was still soaking wet down there, and after a couple of hours she could feel a need rising inside her. 'Later,' she thought, 'if she ever gets out of this.'

After yet another hour, she was famished, and her mouth was so dry. On top of that, she had to pee.

'What am I going to do?' she cried.

By the next hour or so, she could no longer hold her pee in. 'I guess that's what the plastic is for,' she thought as she let her pee flow.

She realized the she's going to be utterly humiliated when Ben comes home and finds her locked in his box sitting in a puddle of her own cold pee.

The hours passed slowly.

When she finally heard the door upstairs open and footfalls on the floor above, she thought to call out, but she was afraid to.

'He's going to find me here, sooner or later. I ought to call out and get it over with already.' But she couldn't work up the nerve.

Her dilemma was solved for her when she heard the door at the top of the stairs open a little later.

Their eyes locked together as soon as he came down the stairs.

"Hi!" said Gail as her voice cracked as much from terror as from dehydration.

"Holy shit!" he said. "You're that real estate lady."

"Yeah," said Gail as she tried to swallow. "Can you let me out?"

Ben walked slowly over to the box. She didn't like the grin that was on his face.

"Please!" she said.

Without a word, Ben began to undress.

Gail watched in stark terror as he pulled his tee shirt up over his head and tossed it aside.

"God! No!" she gasped when he pulled his jeans down and Jockeys in one motion, letting his erect member flop out, pointing straight at her.

Despite her dry mouth, she swallowed when he stepped up to the box and climbed upon it.

"Please!" she whimpered. "No! Please don't rape me!"

Without a word, he swung one leg over her head, straddling her head between his legs.

Every instinct inside her was telling her to scream, yet she remained frozen in panic as it all seemed to happen in slow motion.

Gail kept her eyes glued to his wiggling cock as he pinched her jaw open and wrapped his legs around the back of her head.

'In a moment,' she realized, 'a man's cock is going to be in my mouth who I don't know from Adam. A tear dripped from her eye, but that wasn't the only moisture emanating from her body. Yet more pussy juices were mixing in with that puddle of piss she was sitting in. At that moment, his cockhead touched her lips. An instant later, he squeezed her head with his powerful legs, forcing his cock down her throat, and pressing his hairy crotch against her face.

Immediately, her gag reflex kicked into overdrive. His cock was squeezing past the back of her mouth and down her esophagus, and her throat muscles were instinctively trying to cough it back up. He, on the other hand, just pushed the back of her head even tighter to his crotch, shoving his cock down a fraction of an inch deeper.

The pain! The pain in her throat was beyond incredible, and her lungs were screaming for air. His cock was blocking her airway and she couldn't breathe. He didn't seem to care that she had been holding her breath continuously for over a minute, and was feeling light-headed.

And then his cock started throbbing rhythmically in her mouth. She knew he was coming--injecting his cum directly into her throat. At least she didn't have to taste it.

And then he was done. 'Finally, the torture is over!' His cock began to shrink, though he remained seated, still squeezing her head with his legs.

She felt him lean far over, twisting her head in his powerful leg grip as he did so. Then she heard paper rattling. She tried to look up, though with her face plastered to his groin and his hairy crotch filled her field of view. He draped the newspaper in his lap resting against her forehead. 'Fuck! He's reading a newspaper. The fucker is reading a newspaper with my face glued to his cock.'

At least Gail could breathe. Still, even a soft cock is a fairly large chunk of meat to hold in one's mouth and she struggled to breathe slowly so that her gag reflex wouldn't kick in and put her in agony again.

She sat there, reminded that she's still sitting in a puddle of her own piss from the odor that rose up through the crack around her neck. In fact, she had to pee again and couldn't hold it any longer. Her fresh piss added to the stale piss from the morning simply enhanced the aroma.

Yes, she still so thirsty. How long would she have to endure this humiliation, she wondered. At that, her mouth began filling rapidly with water squirting against the back of her throat. 'Oh fuck! He's pissing in my mouth!'

Some dribbled out between her lips and his cock down her chin. Yet, she was so incredibly thirsty that she drank some of it.

Time passed as he continued to read the newspaper. The taste of piss in her mouth occasionally threatened to make her puke, but she managed to hold it in.

Some time later, he leaned over again and set the newspaper down. The TV then came on. She didn't recognize the first show, 'Max Headroom.' Based only on the audio and not able to see the show, it seemed to her to be some kind of detective story about computer viruses, but the main character was, himself, a self-aware computer virus. Weird!

That was followed by 'Star Trek: Starfleet Academy.' Though not much of a 'Star Trek' fan, her previous boyfriend was, and so she knew the history of the series from the original to 'Next Generation' and other spin-offs. When they produced 'Star Trek: Enterprise,' their attempt at rewriting Trek "history" nearly killed the franchise. But when they finally produced 'Starfleet Academy,' as fans around the world had been begging for years for, the franchise found a second life, or rather, a third life, for it was 'Next Generation' 10 years after the original that gave 'Star Trek' its second life.

Gail wanted to cry. 'How long is he going to keep me in this blasted thing and use my face like it was a fuck doll and urinal?' she wondered.

Wonder as she might, as the show drew to a close and a commercial came on, he began pumping her mouth again.

'Oh God! No! Not again!'

His cock swelled up once again, forcing itself past her throat, as it slid relentlessly in and out and in and out.

Again, Gail couldn't restrain her gag reflex, and her body started bucking out of control as her gag reflex tried in vain to expel the massive object from her throat.

And again, after about a minute as she was on the verge of passing out, his cock began throbbing and pumping cum directly into her throat.

Finally, his cock shrunk one again and he squirted a few last drops of post cum onto her tongue before sliding back and pulling out of her mouth.

Gail immediately went into a wild fit of coughing and spitting.

"That what you wanted?" he asked her, but she couldn't reply as she struggled for a full minute or two to catch her breath.

She then swallowed hard and met his gaze. Her hand, however, was down between her legs dipped in the puddle of piss that she was sitting in. She was still as wet as ever down there.

"Can you let me go now?" she asked. Without thinking, she blurted, "I promise I won't tell anyone. I mean, I had no business being here and messing with your things and locking myself in. You had every right to use me the way you did for what I did. But I have to show a customer a house tomorrow morning. That's my livelihood! I can't miss it! Please! So no hard feelings, okay?"

"No hard feelings," he said in a slow monotone voice.

"That's right," she said. "We both had fun, and nobody will ever know what we did tonight. I promise. Okay? So I can go, right?"

"Do you really keep a promise?" he asked.

"Of course!" she said, visibly miffed that anyone would question her honesty. Again, the words just poured from her mouth in sheer panic without thought. "I know what everyone says about car salespeople. But the Realty business is different. In this business, honesty is absolutely essential. I couldn't sell if my word can't be trusted."

"Okay," he said. "You promise to come back tomorrow after your showing, and I'll let you go."

"Come back?" she gasped. "And what? Be put back in this, uh, box again?"

"Yes," he said.

Gail fingered her wet pussy. That touch triggered such a powerful orgasm that she couldn't control herself as her whole body quaked and throbbed. Her shoulders banged against the undersides of the top panels as her body went into auto-pilot.

Panting and sweating when she finally regained control of her body, she met Ben's gaze again. His arms were crossed as he stood there with a big grin on his face.

Gail struggled to get the word out. "Yes," she said. "I'll come back tomorrow."

Ben reached down and unlatched the top, adding, "And come on an empty stomach, so you'll be hungry and thirsty, too."

"Okay," said Gail, who and then collapsed again as pins and needles shot through her legs.

"Help me," she whimpered.

"Sure," he said. Pointing to the bathroom off the recreation room, he said, "You can take a shower before you go if you want."

She wanted to just leave in the worst way, but she was drenched in her own piss from her crotch down. "Okay," she said.

He said, "You should have put an adult incontinence diaper on first, you know?"


"Yeah," he pointed to a package on a nearby shelf. "They're right there."

"I'll remember that," she said.

Dripping piss, Gail stepped into the small bathroom off the recreation room and took a long needed shower.

Shortly later, fresh and dry, she stepped out into the recreation room.

Feeling self-conscious at being naked in front of a total stranger--well, a total stranger whom she just spent the past few hours sucking on his cock and drinking his cum and piss--she was strangely relieved that he was also still naked.

He smiled and handed her folded clothes to her. She took them and started dressing. He did so along with her.


Finally, in her car, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was dark and in an unfamiliar area, but that's part of a real estate agent's job and her GPS knew the way home.

The following morning, she showed a young couple a small townhouse in the historic center city area. She was strangely relieved that they didn't want to make an offer. Sitting in her office, she finished up some paperwork.

One of the other agents popped her head in Gail's office. "Morning Gail!"

"Morning, Barb!" said Gail.

"Everything okay? You seem a little on edge, and you didn't touch any of the bagels or doughnuts that the broker brought in for those of us who have to come in on Saturday mornings."

"I'm fine," said Gail.

"Not even your usual cup of coffee?" said Barb in a voice of concern. "Did those buyers you took out this morning make problems for you?"

"They were okay," said Gail. "Really! I'm just not hungry." Then she smiled and looked down to continue her work.

Gail wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Should she keep her promise and go back to Ben's house and be 'USED' again as a fuck doll. Or should she just go home and forget it ever happened. To his credit, he 'DID' let her leave when she was certain she would dead momentarily at the hands of a kinky serial killer. And then she could have easily have driven straight to the police from his house, but she didn't.

She reached down with one hand under her desk and under her skirt to feel her soaking pussy, while her other hand fondled her car keys.

Shortly thereafter, Gail rang a doorbell in front of a house that was for sale. Despite wiping off her legs before she got out of her car, her juices were dribbling down her legs as she stood there at the door.

"Hi Ben!" said Gail when the door opened. "Your fuck toy has returned."

* END *


You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum


If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
Packaged Stories