|© Copyright 2009 - Mumman - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: F/m; femdom; wrap; tape; cast; catheter; bond; board; nipple; tease; torment; breathplay; sen-dep; denial; cons; X||
|Enforced Endurance 5: Maximummification Mumman F/m; femdom; wrap; tape; cast; catheter; bond; board; nipple; tease; torment; breathplay; sen-dep; denial; cons; X|
|continued from part 4
Part 5: Maximummification
At last, the unraveling of her awesome rope-web trapping her splinted, casted, spread-eagled victim down completely immovably on the bed had begun. She’d taken pictures from all angles to document the experience, admiring her thoroughness, strictness and creativity. Wife-spider-mistress was certainly not fooling around with binding him up, she was completely obsessive about it, taking it to the highest levels! She was really into this game like never before and he was shocked and amazed at her. She was a woman obsessed and possessed, alright! And he was in for more mind-boggling mummification bondage for the overnight and the next day!
She’d finally decided he’d had enough in the super-tough phase 2 endurance session, telling him “OK Mumman-dear, it’s time, but it will take awhile to get you out!” It did indeed take quite a while to release him from her amazing web, as he moaned in impatience and relief. Finally, the last ropes fell and he could move his sore fiberglass tape-casted limbs. The squishy, soaked diaper clung to his crotch under the rubberized suit. He moaned through the long rubber tube-gag of the blow-up hood, ready for full release, but wife-mistress had other ideas!
“There, Mr. Mumman, you’re released to some extent, but that’s it for now!” What?? “You can move around on the bed some, but you sure as hell can’t get up like that, especially with those bondage boots on!” He voices his displeasure. “Now be a good boy, or I’ll clamp your nipples again, or tie your arms together behind your back! You look pretty sexy like that, too bad I can’t get at your cock!” She rubs his crotch. He moans. “Now just relax for awhile while I coil up all these ropes! I’ll warm up some soup for you later. You should try to take a nap! Get on your side, here’s a pillow!” He gets adjusted, breathing heavily, feeling hot again.
Everything was staying on but the ropes and ankle cuffs, including the tight bondage belt over the corset-girdle and the high cervical neck collar. Now his wet, pissy, padded cock was hard again. He tried to rub it with his splint-casted arm, ineffectively. No relief, no release! He got a nasty foot and calf cramp. He moaned in his rubber-headed balloon blackness as she watched him, coiling up the ropes, enjoying his sexual frustration. There’d be no getting off for him!
She finally coiled up the last rope. “OK, Mumman, would you like to know what time it is?”
“OK, but you’ll have to let me tape your wrists together in front first!” What the hell, he thinks, my arms and hands aren’t doing me any good anyway! He assents and crosses his wrists in front of him as she gets the black electrical tape. She thoroughly wraps it around and around his splint-casted wrists. “It’s a little after 4:00, Mr. Mumman!” Oh wow, he thinks, this session has been over 9 hours now! “Now you’d better take a nap, you have a long, tough night ahead of you! First, I’d better tape your ankles together, just because I feel like it!” He moans as she grabs his casted ankles and winds the tape around and around, going up a ways, binding them tightly together. It’s whatever She wants, whatever She says! he thinks.
“There! All set for a nice bondage nap! Soup and drink a little later! Bye Mummy-man, dear!” Up goes the volume on the sound machine again, downstairs she goes. He tries to relax, but has the urge to pee, and his cock becomes throbbing –hard again. He makes small adjustments in his position, his rigidly-encased pointed feet killing him. He is ready to piss and try to sleep, but his cock isn’t cooperating. As before, this goes on for a long time, Jeez!! Finally, a trickle. Then a long continuous slow, hot trickle. Pissing in bed again! Now his diapered crotch is really saturated and soaked, and he does a little crap! Great, he thinks, now I’m really a mess! I’m so fucked! Gotta sleep! Gotta sleep--- His mouth is dry again. He presses his tongue around under the big rubber gag and at the back of his throat to get some saliva coating. He gets relaxed and groggy. On his side he can sleep better. He finally falls asleep in his pitch-black rubber-latex pressured world.
Outside, a storm is brewing in the heat as he sleeps deeply, exhaustedly, relievedly. He has weird dreams and occasional tiny jerky movements. Wife-mistress comes up to check on him. Seeing that he appears asleep, she leaves him be. He needs his sleep now. He may not get much later.
In one dream he is completely, blissfully mummy-wrapped with a small nasal opening. He is encased in layers and layers of stretchy black rubber-latex bandages, squeezed from head to foot, his arms locked straight down at his sides. He seems to be floating in a pool, very securely attached to a rubber floatation raft device. He is ball-gagged and can’t move a muscle. All is calm, very warm, quiet and peaceful. He is tethered in the middle of the water by four ropes attached at the raft corners to the pool sides.
Soon, the tranquility is interrupted by a breeze that gets stronger and stronger. The water gets churned up by the gusty wind, buffeting him up and down in the pool increasingly violently. He hears thunder. He is getting very nervous, calling out through his nostrils for help. The rain begins, then an instantaneous flash of lightning and sharp thunderclap splits the night! Now the heavy rain lets loose, with thunder and lightning all around. It is getting into his nose as he bounces on his raft, panicking and screaming nasally, trying to blast his breath out to keep the rain at bay. It is a real downpour and it keeps getting into his nose! Will he drown on top of the water?? Is there no-one to save him?? The pelting rain mixes with hail, pummeling his rubber-wrapped body! The multiple layers protect and cushion him, but it still hurts! Where is rescue?? The deluge pelts him, the lightning flashes, he struggles to breathe, the raft bounces crazily—BOOM!!
He wakes disoriented. His heart is racing and his breath is labored through the hood’s long tube. He panics in his rigid mummified state, trying to move and thrash on the bed, rolling onto his back, his taped-together stiff arms sticking up. He hollers as he comes back to reality. He gets foot cramps. He tries to sit up. What a nightmare! Did he really hear a loud boom? Was it part of the dream? Wifey-mistress comes up. “Hey Mumman! Did you hear that thunder? We’re getting a big storm!” Then, BOOM! again. “Wow”, she said, “it’s getting dark! Well, I guess you’ve been in the dark long enough now, I’ll start getting your casts off, then you get the rest off!” Alright! She went to work cutting and unwrapping the multi-layered fiberglass mesh tape.
Limb-by sore-limb his movement returned as the layers and splints were removed. He felt like a bad accident victim who was finally healed. The rush of release came over him as he tore off the tall neck-collar and latex gloves and twisted the air-release valve on the hood as the pressurized air -her breath- hissed out. He pressed the air out around his head and unrolled the tight, wet rubber up off his sweaty face, popping out the big gag. He was greeted by a bright flash of lightning after all those hours of total darkness. He squinted at the clock, removing the silicone under-cap as he went for the zippers on the toe-boots: 5:15. Over 10 ½ hours in that hood and those boots! he thinks. He hurriedly unzips the unyielding patent-leather knee-high boots and works them off of his achy, smushed feet. Foot movement at last! He massages them for awhile. What a relief! He works his beleaguered body back into full- movement. He worried his messy diaper was leaking under the rubberized suit.
He was beyond talking, and it was still Mistress’s rules anyway, through tomorrow, she had said. “Well, Mumman, you look like hell!” He felt the fill impact of this incredible bondage marathon. “Go strip down and get rid of that pissy diaper! Get some water and take a good shower! I’ll bring up your tomato soup, Gatorade and a nutrition shake. Get ready, Mumman, phase 3 is tonight! How do you feel!”
“Tired and sore, but OK, Mistress.”
“OK. I’ve decided some maximum-mummification is on the agenda! Maximummification! You like it extreme, so that’s what your Bondage-Mistress has in store! Re-hydrate well, Mumman! No diapers this time, you’ll be catheterized! The real thing! Aren’t you excited??”
He shuddered. They’ve played with full catheterization twice before, and he wondered if this might be coming. It had been scary and unpleasant, but also a turn-on. “Yes, Mistress”, was all he could say. Her word was final.
“I realize you might like to masturbate, but I am forbidding it!” Mistress is a total control freak! he thinks. “No jerking off! Do you understand, Mr. Mumman?” More thunder reverberated.
“Yes, Mistress, dear.”
She nods and heads downstairs. He goes and takes care of all his bathroom business, looking forward to the liquid meal. As he showers, he grabs his cock, having that urge. He strokes it a few times, but stops. He must obey. Unequivocally. He’s already going through enough hell, he doesn’t need any extra punishment. He drinks more shower water. She peeks in the shower. “Being a good Mistress’s boy?”
She looks at his cock and grabs it hard, shaking it. “OK, dinner’s ready!”
“Thank-you, Mistress!” He finishes up and dries off, shaking his head in wonderment at her. He’s such a hardcore bondage freak, he is getting excited, though trepidatious about this “maximummification” and catheterization ahead. He drinks more water. He goes back into the master-suite and as he hungrily drinks down his meal, sees where he’ll be stuck, possibly all night. She has set up his long, narrow cushion-board atop the two old sturdy wooden speakers, stabilized by two boards across the speakers. It is just over 15” wide and nearly his length, with an extra yellow foam cushion unrolled on it.
They smile at each other, but he’s nervous about the severity and the duration at-hand. He drinks lots of Gatorade. He’s been fixed to that board on many occasions, many very long sessions immovably plastic shrink-wrapped and tape-mummified. He and the cushioned board become one as layer after layer, around and around, he is rigidly sealed to it. He knows that this time she, the Mistress-wife, will out-do herself somehow.
A little over an hour later, he lies there, indeed done up to an unprecedented extreme. He attempts to flex or move, and nothing happens. The only things he can do are to breathe, make incoherent sounds, pee into the catheter bag, and endure. She has him fixed to the enth degree.
She had him do his head. He inserted the 2 ½” dense rubber gag ball, fully distending his jaw and stretching his lips out widely. He sealed his ear canals with the highest-rated expanding earplugs. Then he put on the full, high cervical collar/ brace with the curved chin-rest, adjusting the side Velcro straps to practiced perfect tightness. For complete coverage, and to protect his hair, he put on the tight black diver’s cap, Velcro-strapped under his chin. He then wrapped beige elastic bandages around his entire face, head and neck, sealing his eyes under light-blocking round foam pads. Each bandage was double-clipped on, applied to the perfect tight tension he was well-acquainted with. With the huge rubber ball sealed in his mouth, his head is tilted back in the big neck-brace.
With his head sealed and fully-immobilized, she went to work. She was a woman on a mission to mummify him to the hilt. Mistress wanted him to have no movement whatever, and no release for many hours. He had on a pair of knee-high compression hose and multiple long tube-socks on to cushion his feet. She put a piece of foam cushioning between his knees and ankles, then double-wrapped his entire legs together with heavy-duty shrink-wrap and silver duct-tape. She’d normally go right up his body to his armpits and help him lie down, but she had urinary business to take care of. She put a wide Velcro-ized waist-cinching brace tightly around his mid-section and helped him onto the board.
He laid down, knowing he wouldn’t be getting back up for a very long time. Latex gloves were put on, then 2 stockings and 4 long white tube socks on each arm. Cushioning was important for long-term tight compression, as well as to render his hands useless. She completely wrapped each arm in the adhesive drywall fiberglass mesh tape, casting his arms and hands stiffly. With his arms down at his sides on the narrow “bed”, she begins tightly wrapping him to it with the big roll of strong plastic wrap. She carefully places two quarters on his nipples as she wraps his chest. Uh-oh, he thinks, knowing why they’re there. Over and under, up and down, from shoulders to feet she goes, pulling it tautly, avoiding his soon-to-be-catheterized penis. After a few layers he is pinned down good. His cock and balls jut out.
“OK Mumman, the interesting part now!” She opens the sterile catheter kit. He groans and his cock is hard. “Now lose that erection or I’ll get the ice!” This is sufficient to cause his cock to shrink. Then she expertly, slowly inserts the lubed, mid-sized diameter piss-tube, pushing and twisting it up into his urethra. ‘Oh, that feels weird!’ he thinks. As it reaches his bladder, she encounters some resistance. “Almost done!” She pushes it in, knowing by the feel, and his piss running down the tube, that it’s in. He feels the floodgate open and the strange sensation of forced urination and losing urinary control. He shudders as she injects the sterilized water into the tube to the seating balloon at the end, anchoring the catheter in his bladder. Piss flows into the collection bag. ‘How long with this?’ he wonders. He was feeling the continual urge to pee, and the discomfort as his cock hardened.
“There, Mummy-man! Now you can piss all night! You’d better appreciate all the trouble I’m going through for you!” He makes a sound. “Good! Now to finish up!”
With his intubated, hard cock lying straight up on his groin/ lower abdomen, she taped the tubing down safely before applying the plastic wrap around and around it, smushing his balls. She starts with the duct-tape at his neck and shoulders, meticulously over-lapping it as she goes, making a tight, solid covering. She keeps going right over his uncomfortably hard cock and balls, having been careful with the tubing. Everything is safely secure. Solidly, methodically, she continues binding him tighter to his beloved cushion-board, down his taped-together legs to his feet and toes hanging off the edge. She pushes his feet down as she tapes them, then pulls more lengths from the top of his feet tightly down over his toes, sticking it underneath the board, severely pointing his feet straight down.
Then she begins the second tape layer going back up, starting at his pointed toes. He loves the sound and feel and smell of the duct-tape, as she fastidiously wraps him up ever-tighter. She finally reaches up and over his shoulders again. She puts a small, rolled-up towel under his arched neck so that all the head pressure is not on the back of his head. She carefully, not too tightly, applies long strips of duct-tape across his neck brace, his mouth-ball and his forehead to the sides of the cushioned board, fully immobilizing his head.
Now he feels something going around his feet- more tape! She further reinforces his feet down, and begins going up his ankles and legs. It’s the wide black electrical tape she’s tightly administering now, a little spacing between each pass over and under. She gets to his shoulders, and starts back down. As all the tape had been applied to his chest, he regulated his breathing so it wasn’t too constricting. She finishes back at his toes. He hears a metallic clinking- belts! Over-kill Mistress has pulled out the long 1 ½” wide black leather bondage belts. She starts at his ankles, strapping them down tightly around him, up to his shoulders. ‘Oh wow’, he thinks. Eight belts now snugly reinforce his awesome bondage.
He lies there like a mad fetish doctor’s serious accident victim on the immobilization board, as more piss trickles from his sealed cock into the clear bag. The tube irritates his throbbing-hard, smushed-down cock, but excites it too! His casted arms are locked down to his sides and the bondage board super-tightly. He strains to move anything, his head, body, legs, feet. No results, no movement at all. The quarters press his nipples in. He wonders when these will come into play. He is sweating, but it is cooler now, and she has shut off the air-conditioner. His stomach gurgles, more piss leaks out. He is in bondage ecstasy now in this rigid ultra-mummification, but worries about how many hours she has in mind for this phase 3 marathon session.
“OK Mummy-man! You’re set for the night!” Oh no, he thinks. “It’s a good thing you drank so much! I’ll let you get acclimated for awhile before I play with your titties! Maybe I’ll clamp off your piss-tube for awhile. It’d be fun to run a piss tube up to your mouth so you’d have to drink it!” No! “But don’t worry, Mumman, your ball-gag will stay! You can’t move one little bit, can you??”
“I know you love it, Mr. Bondage Freak! But for how long?? Maximummification! Ain’t it a wonderful thing? The rain’s letting up! I think I’ll go get some dinner now! Anything you’d like? Ha-ha! It’s about 8:00, but it’s been a long day already!” He murmurs in agreement. “See you later, Mummy-dearest!” She has brought the sound machine over near him. She plays the crickets and peepers program loudly. Not quite as relaxing as the ocean waves. Off she goes.
He is crazy nervous and excited. His trapped cock hardens around the secured catheter tube. He breathes faster. He thinks over the last 36 hours of this crazy marathon as he tries to flex some muscles. He’s just amazed at being in such serious, severe immobilizing bondage and sensory deprivation for the majority of that time. It was a fantasy dream come true, but the reality of it was something else! It got really tough in the long term! Here he was again, stuck good and enjoying it to the hilt at this early phase. As the hours go by, physiological and psychological stresses come up that cause nervousness, anxiety and the urge for release. He had gone into uncharted territory and experienced how it challenged and changed him. Wife-Bondage Mistress had forced him to deal with here-to-fore unendured extremes. She took away his decision in the matter, with powerful psychological consequences.
Was she trying to break him? Going to excess as a form of aversion therapy? Showing him who was really in control? All of the above he thinks. He had to give up and give in and accept it. He had to acclimate and accept her authority and control. Once she had him fixed up, the game was on, her game. She had taken over his bondage game for the first time. If she was enjoying this so much, would she want to make a habit of it? How often would she want to bring out this new inner-Mistress?
Now she had gone hard-core on him, and flipped the game. It used to be what bondage and for what duration he decided. Not now! How long would he be stuck like this? Longer than ever before, he was sure! Overnight?? He’d gone about 7 hours before fully-mummified on the board, and that was a hell of a test, and a bit less severe than this! He was really extreme Mumman now! He swallowed more saliva behind the mouth-filling ball and leaked more piss. He sweated. He got more relaxed, enjoying the extra restriction of the tight belts.
She had been gone a long time and what-if anxieties and scenarios crept up on him. There was a danger to this game, which made it all the more interesting, exciting and crazy! He heard a muffled boom. More thunder! He laid there stiffly, blindly, absolutely unmovingly as the storm approached and the thunder got louder. Then a loud crack rattled the house, and the sound machine went off! He was startled, nervous and a little panicky. He strained in futility and could hear the heavy rain on the roof . More loud thunder. He fought against the rising panic-anxiety attack. His heart was racing, and his breath, interspersed with moaning, came hard and noisily through his nostrils. Where was wife?? This was a bad storm. What timing! It went on and on. He did his best to calm down. He helplessly waited and waited…
He employed his relaxing and calming techniques. He was as stiff as a board, like a cadaver, he morbidly thought. He and the mummification board were one. He was well-cushioned, though, and comfortable enough in his total immobility and isolation. Bondage therapy. It was good for him. He was removed from everybody and everything. Everybody should try it sometime! Bondage therapy and psychology- there was a new and worth-while field! A study on the effects and benefits of long-term, safe, regular strict bondage and sensory-deprivation. He was an expert with long experience. He contemplated on his bondage-ology thesis and dissertation.
He was pretty used to the strict pointed feet and toes position and experienced only a few foot cramps. That catheter was his main irritation, but that part of the long-term bondage equation was taken care of! He felt a steady urge to pee. What if the bag filled up? He shuddered at the thought. He anxiously awaited her return in his incapacitated state. I’m a total, helpless invalid, he thinks. Get home, Mistress! Be OK!
He faintly heard the stairs creak. He’s ecstatic at her return! “Well, Mumman! What a storm!! I waited it out for a bit! A little scary, eh??” He agrees. “I see the power went out here! The sound machine’s off and the clock’s flashing! How’d you like a cheeseburger?” She unwraps it and places the warm burger right on his taped-down, ball-filled mouth and chin-rest! More food torment! Right on his mouth under his nose! He salivates and moans. His stomach growls. “You’ve peed a lot! I’ll just clamp that for now and change the bag in a while. Now I’ll get at those titties!” He doesn’t care what she does, he’s just glad she’s home and safe!
She very carefully cuts through the tape and wrap around the quarters’ edges with a very sharp pointy blade. He nervously breathes as shallowly as possible. She extricates the first quarter as his nipple eagerly pops up through the tight wrappings, then the other. They protrude quite a bit, poking out and saying “play with me!” She rubs ice from her drink on them, shocking him. He gasps. “Doesn’t that feel good, Mumman??” She keeps rubbing as it melts freezing his formerly-hot titties. He tries to squirm and hollers. “That’ll cool you down!” She traps a little cube on each breast under a towel. He makes more noise. “Don’t worry, I won’t give your titties frostbite! Just a nice little freeze!” He is going nuts with this icy pain, the cheeseburger’s aroma and the thought of his drainage tube being clamped off. What a tormentor she is! he thinks. Incredible!
The ice cubes slowly melt on his freezing nipples. He moans. After awhile she lifts up the towel and dabs at his freezing boobs. She pinches and pulls on them, eliciting a loud response. “Look at those nice red titties sticking out! They’ll be ready for clamping soon!” He breathes hard and noisily. She sits and watches his clamped-off piss tube as it begins to back up. She’ll take care of it soon enough. She gets the tweezer-style nipple clamps this time, clamping each nipple hard, as he reacts in typical fashion. She pulls the connecting chain down toward his stomach, pulling on the nipples. She tapes it down securely. “There, Mumman! Isn’t that nice??” Unintelligible noises.
‘Oh man am I screwed!’ he thinks. ‘This is wicked, but exquisite!’ He is very impressed with her. He is on a masochistic bondage high, reveling in his predicament. His cock gets harder, and he feels some discomfort. ‘What a trip! How long will this be for?? She’s amazing!’ He lies there in masochistic mummy ecstasy for a long time while his nipples sting and he feels new bladder discomfort.
Finally, she is back. She attaches a new piss-bag and un-clamps the tube. His semi-full bladder lets go of its contents. ‘Oooh, that’s weird! There I go again!’ He feels a slight burning sensation. She removes the now-cold cheeseburger. “There, Mumman! You’re all set! I’m getting ready for bed!” She pats his trapped cock. He prays that she’ll remove the tight titty clamps before she goes to bed! He tries to get his mind right for the hours that lie ahead. This will be another real test! Here we go again! He needs to put thoughts of release out of his mind. He needs good mental bondage discipline. He needs to accept and try to enjoy this. Time drags on and his nipples are burning. He tries to move and is 100% thwarted.
At last she is back, and releases the nipple clamps. “MMMMHHH!!!” he hollers as the wicked post-clamp pain ensues and the circulation starts to return. She pats his boobies, which doesn’t help! He breathes heavily.
“What a day, Mumman!” says Mistress. “I’m wiped out! And I’m sure you are!” He agrees. She checks his urine bag. A few more drips. “I’ll let your titties recover before I seal them up again! Wouldn’t want you getting cold! But first, a little special treat!” She sticks something long, narrow and pliable into his nostril, moving it around. He vocalizes as it tickles the sensitive area, while doing the same in the other nostril with her other hand! Well, this takes his mind off his nipples! How much can she fuck with him? He tries to move his head, but no way. He can’t even twitch or move his stretched, bandaged nose with the awesome ball-gag in, stretching his lips. She tickles away, driving him nuts! Then she slowly inserts them way up his nose, making his blinded eyes water! He makes pleading noises for her to stop, but she keeps it up. He breathes fast, helping him deal with it better. He’d hate to sneeze all bound up like this! Finally, she quits and squeezes his nose hard a few times. Then she gets the duct-tape, tightly applying strips right over his protruding red nipples. That’ll feel good when she takes that off! he thinks.
“OK Mumman! That concludes our day’s activities! It’s bed time!” She kisses the duct-tape holding his forehead down and turns on the sound machine. Back to the loud surf susurrations. “I hope you can manage some decent sleep like that! Be a good, quiet Mummy-boy tonight! Phase 4 is in-store for you tomorrow, so you can look forward to that! Then phase 5! Goodnight, Mumman-dear!” She pats his cock.
“MM-hmm!”, he says, and she goes to bed. The finality hits him that he’ll be mummified and catheterized all night! Nothing he can do about it! How fucking strict can you get?! He breathes hard for awhile and reaffirms his total inability to move at all. Fucked again! he thinks. It’s going to be a hell of a night! Enforced extreme endurance! Maximummification! The hours start to slowly drag by. He is mostly awake or pseudo-conscious, with brief napping periods, occasionally mummy-meditating, reconciled and resigned to his fate for the over-night.
He goes through the periodic physical and mental stresses that accompany such extreme long-term bondage and sensory-deprivation. He wonders and fantasizes about what the Mistress will put him through tomorrow, what ordeals, trials and tribulations, what raptures and tortures…
story continues in part 6
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