Her Ordeal

On Saturday I decided to proceed with some work that I had planned to do on one of our cars. It was a beautiful day, so I pulled the car into the driveway and up to the garage, with the front clip facing the garage door. Still sitting in a dark corner in the back of the garage was the case containing my very tightly bound, gagged, plugged, and packaged wife. She was, of course, exactly how and where I had left her Friday morning. I walked over and thumped on the upright case with my foot. I could easily hear her warbling moans through the case. I knew that she was both miserable and ecstatic in her tiny prison. Inside, she had grown stiff and sore from the cramped confinement. Her jaw was aching from being stretched around the fat penis gag for so long. Her nipples were burning from the clamps biting into them. Her ass was throbbing from the thick dildo shoved deep inside her. With a plastic cable tie tightly binding her soft, tender lips cruelly around the dildo that filled her pussy, her wet pussy was on fire. 

Most importantly, for my wife, filled in all of her holes by shafts bolted to the case, and with intimate parts of her body also fastened to the case, She had become more than a babe bound in a box. Packed in the case alone in the garage, she had no decisions, no choices. With her three holes filled by the shafts-which could not be removed from the locked case-even her most basic uses were eliminated. She had physically become part of the case. Whatever happened to the case, every vibration, every bump or jolt, was transmitted to her through the shafts filling her completely. She was part of the container that held her. She had become an object. She wasn’t in a case in the garage... she was the case in the garage. 

Throughout the night, the orgasms, as she pondered this, had been quite intense. 

It was still early and the mail had not arrived yet. I left the garage door open and returned to the house to enjoy some coffee until the mail was delivered. Eventually the mail arrived, and I headed for the garage with the keys that my wife thought had been delivered. 

I placed the case on its side and unlocked the padlock. With the case open, I took a while to study my wife’s naked form, securely mounted in place where she had been for the last full day. Finally, I took the wire cutters and, after showing them to my wife, traced them along her body just as I had the padlock the day before. When I reached her pussy, I again began to trace along her tender lips, painfully bulging above and below the unrelenting plastic band. Her lips by now were incredibly sensitive, making her moan and tremble from the slightest touch of the cold steel against her tortured flesh. Finally, I positioned the tip of the cutters over the band. twisting the plastic slightly, first one way, then another, before finally cutting the band with a single snap. She screamed into her gag as the cable snapped away, releasing her pussy from its grip. 

With her pussy free, I began the task of unbolting the various shafts and removing her from the case. Lifting her out of the case, I placed her on her knees, still bound by the cable ties into a tight ball tie. Knowing that she would be thirsty, I placed a small dog dish of water on the floor and allowed her to lap up whatever water that she could. As she knelt there, lapping at the water, it occurred to me that all of her holes were now empty, a situation that just wouldn’t do. When she had finished with her drink, I plugged her ass before releasing her from the ball tie. With at least one hole filled for now, I used the cutters to snip only the plastic cables holding her folded into a ball, leaving those that held her wrists, arms, breasts, legs, and toes in place. Released from the tight fold, she was now able to sit better on the garage floor and enjoy what I had chosen to feed her for breakfast. 

With her now fed and watered, it seemed appropriate to allow her to relieve her bladder. Before allowing her to hobble into the house, I strapped a nice, big ball gag into her mouth, then sent her hopping, out of the garage, across the open driveway, and into the house to the first floor bathroom, only to make the trip back again when she was finished. 

With her back in the garage, I decided to “reward” her for her efforts in getting to and from the house in her current condition by binding two more cable ties around each of her breasts. I then cut the cable ties binding her arms to her torso, allowing me to tie her in a strappado to a wall stud about halfway to the open garage door. With her securely bent over, I removed one of the nipple clamps now dangling from her breasts. Again she screamed into her gag as the clamp released its grip on her tortured nipple. I threaded the chain connecting the clamps behind her legs, pulling her chest down to her knees, then returned the clamp to her free nipple as she screamed into the ball again. Her pussy had been through quite an ordeal during the last day, and I didn’t want her to forget the experience of having her most intimate parts so tightly clamped. With that in mind, I placed two clamps on her pussy, then hung the padlock from the case from them and left it to dangle there, gently swaying with her slightest motion. 

Even though my wife was now bound with her bare bottom in the air in our open garage, the combination of her location in the garage and the car with its hood open obscured her from anyone’s view. Still, for my wife, it felt as though she was completely exposed, naked and bound in an incredibly vulnerable position. 

Since she was so conveniently located close to the door, I saw no reason to waste a perfectly good work space, and began using her back to set various tools on. I went about my day, working on the car while my bound, naked, gagged, clamped, and plugged wife served as my work bench. Occasionally I would take a break, remove the clamps on her lips, then use her one empty hole as I saw fit, then replace the clamps and return to work. 

Finally, I was done with my work. I put my tools away first, then my workbench. Before releasing her from the strappado, I spent some time paddling her nicely upturned bottom, making certain that it was glowing red and sore, ready for the next round of sitting that she would be doing soon. That done, I released her from the strappado and, using still more large cable ties, bound her again into a tight ball tie. I pulled the plug from her ass and removed the clamps from her pussy, then placed the naked little bundle exactly as she had been, back in the case. I quickly exchanged the ball gag in her mouth for the original penis gag that she had sucked on all night, strapping and bolting it firmly into place. Next I replaced the dildos, plugging and filling her completely, then bolting them into place. As before, I hooked the chain on her nipple clamps to the inside of the case. Once again I stretched and pulled her lips down along the dildo before trapping them there with another tightly drawn cable tie. 

For my wife, this was a bit of a surprise. She had no idea of what I had planned for her when she first emerged from the case, much less that I had planned on packing her there again so soon. Still, she quickly slipped back into her place, increasingly becoming part of the case as each fitting was added. 

Before closing her up for the night, I decided to give her a few extra things to think about. I began by gently stinging the side of her left breast and her pussy with a rubber band. I started by randomly stinging her, alternating between one area or the other before rhythmically concentrating on her pussy until she came, screaming and moaning into her gag as she did. Next I added another cable tie, tightened around her lips, slightly crisscrossing the first one. Finished with her for now, I closed up the case, padlocking it shut before returning it to an upright-and her to a sitting-position. Rather than leave the case simply sitting in the garage as before, I carried the case over to a large cabinet. I had removed the middle shelf from the cabinet, allowing me to place the case in the cabinet in the same upright, sitting position. Before closing up the cabinet, I told her that I had not yet decided what I would do with her when I returned for her tomorrow. I would either chose to free her from the case, leave her there until Monday, transport the case to a commercial storage center and leave her there, again until Monday, or invite a friend over and give the case-and the keys-to him or her, with an invitation do to with the case and its contents as they pleased. 

I could hear her having another orgasm as I closed and locked the cabinet door.

Obviously, her ordeal did continue through Sunday. However, Sunday's activities were a bit less involved for a number of reasons, which I'll go into later. One of those reasons is that I really hadn't planned anything beyond packing her in the case until the "keys" arrived in Saturday's mail. Everything else was fairly improvised. 

I should probably tell you then that this entire session was practice for a much more intense ordeal that we had planned.

Imagine her, completely naked, bound, and helpless, packed in her tiny case and locked away, knowing that the keys to the lock are inside the case with her. Trapped in her cramped container with all of her holes open and exposed to the outside world, at first in complete view of dozens of strange men, then to be transported and locked away, alone, in an isolated area miles from home, where she will be kept and stored for days.

Again, we always follow the "Rule Of Threes": a healthy individual can survive for three minutes without air, three days without water, and three weeks without food. While there are examples of people surviving longer without water, that is the generally accepted survival rule, which we have taken as one of our safety rules, and absolutely do not break. 

Besides, she'll have a little extra moisture drizzled her way, as she sits locked in her case, moaning and squirming as nice, warm cum drips into her holes. The catch is that she won't know who the cum is from. Afterwards, she'll have an entire weekend to think about it as she sits, hopelessly bound and packaged, stored away completely alone in an isolated location miles from home, still tasting someone's cum in her mouth. 

A little note here: We DO NOT under any circumstances toy with the first segment of the rule. We do not play breath control games of any kind. I've mentioned that part of the rule simply because I'm quoting the rule here. 

As for the keys, not only will they be locked in the case with her, they will be done so in such a way as to torture her slightly, a constant, painfull reminder of her plight.

03.08.07