Gromet's PlazaMummification Stories

If Fantasies Could Talk

by Riptieron

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© Copyright 2004 - Riptieron - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; F+/mff; wrap; bandages; cast; gag; toys; insert; enclosure; plaster; tease; display; party; cons; X

My story isn't that uncommon, its not even that original, and I believe that my interests have been explored by others in countless different ways, so this tale that I bring to you probably won't change the way you see things. I will not pretend to inform you of something inspiring and revealing. I simply have a selfish fantasy. Me, me, me, ah me.

I think about my fantasy when alone, after browsing the Internet for a time. The idea occurred to me that mummification wasn't all that I wanted- it didn't fit me exactly. I liked the helplessness of mummification, but not the way that it was done. I liked the saran wrap, but not the classical position of the mummy. I wanted to be bound in a manner that I have seen seldom if at all, and I wondered why, then I realized the answer was pretty simple: the method was impractical. If I were to bind a person to immobilize them, it would be more effective if I bound them to some other rigid structure, or to bind them to themselves- say legs together, arms to arms, and so forth. To open up the body while making it rigid is an inefficient exercise of energy. Mummification is a very efficient means of immobilization. I believe that it is not very comfortable however, especially when I am aroused. Circulation is cut off to my arms, and they fall asleep, and having my legs together while having an erection, well, that is almost painful. No, I would much rather be spread-eagle when wrapped up. 

The prospect of wrapping oneself is simplified by standing spread-eagle, because it is easier to keep balance this way. Movement is also better. Until a point is reached where I no longer want to be mobile. Then everything gets harder to achieve. At this point I want a helper to wrap the rest of me. I have never had a helper. Where to get one? Would anyone be able to do this? Could I trust anyone? I can't just ask a friend that is too weird. I started looking around for a mistress, or someone to contact with similar interests. I tried leaving posts on some websites. I looked up numerous mistresses, but they were too far off, or wanted more than I could afford. I had not expected this to be easily solved, but it was becoming more trouble some than I had imagined. Sex is all over the Internet, but finding someone to trust as a mistress is like jumping out of an airplane on a parachute that was packed last week, by someone you never met. I had to be sure of what I was getting into. 

I signed in as a guest member to but never once got a message, and could not find anyone close to my location with my interests. I didn't get any response from anyone in the chat rooms; I think the chats are full of bots. So far my search was not going well. I went back to the mistress guides and looked around again. Every one of them was in a big city, far away. I found myself lowering my expectations, assuming that I would not find the person I needed out of the Internet. 

To make sure, I wrote to the nearest three that fit my profile, and begged them for advice. One never responded, the other two did. The first said that I could stay at her dungeon overnight, but there would be a small fee, (it was cheaper to go to a hotel) and then proceeded to give me a report on dungeon economics 101, no pay, no stay. OK, ok, the pay part I got already, I needed discount or payment plan. My means are simple my house is humble. I am not dirt poor, but let's face up- I am no moneybags to be sure. The second actually referred me to another mistress, someone who was in my neck of the woods. She lived just twenty minutes away, in the next town. She had a website, and did most of her work out of town, but still had a dungeon and the trimmings here. 

Wonderful! I was thrilled, and terrified. What would I do about being so close to a breakthrough? I have to e-mail her. No, first visit the website. Ok, type it in and go! Well, there is a surprise- not what I had hoped for, but not bad. She was a white witch, and very into the mothering part of nature, specifically womanhood. Older, I'd say around 38-42 yrs. Elegantly dressed, a well endowed bosom, she had high prices written all over her. The site was modest, and expanded on her vast knowledge of the universe, her experience, and acceptance of all "pure" fetishes. Already, the flags were going up in my mind.

I need to think about what I want from a dominant. Would she be what I need, would she be better, or a disaster? God what a big problem this is for me. I put the whole thing off for weeks. Every time I think about it I get worried. I don't want strings, or a lunatic, or a sadist, I don't need more pain in my life. I guess there is only one thing to do. call.

"Hello." The voice said, in a plain almost expecting voice.

"Hi." I start nervously, "is this Mistress Elaine?"

"Yes." She said growing impatient.

There was a long pause then she said, "are you going to talk to me, or am I going to hang up?"

"Sorry," I gulped, "I have never talked about this before."

"Well, that is all we do here is talk, so tell me what you like to do."

"Um." clearly I was nervous, "I like to be tied up, bondage."

"Ok, that's not so bad." she said soothingly, "there, now tell me about it what type of bondage?"

"Do you do mummification?" I asked.

"Sure" she replied.

"I like mummification bondage."

"So tell me your name." She asked coaxingly.

"Oh, John, sorry."

"It's Ok, don't worry." I felt as if she were reeling me in, just a little bit at a time. "Are you afraid?" She asked.

"Yes, I am afraid that you might not accept me as a sub, and get rough or something."

"OOH, I see." She exclaimed, "you have trust issues, and you want me to reassure you, is that it?"

"Is that too much to ask? I mean; would that be rude of me? I don't know what this is supposed to be like." 

I really felt stupid now, she was going to hand me a line of 'what do you think' and hang up. The silence of the conversation was broke by her next breath, and then she exhaled.

"You ever had a mistress before?" she said determinedly.

"No." I replied.

"Have you thought about it, dreamt of what it might be like?"

"A little..."

"Tell me of what you fantasize. Maybe there is something there to work with."

I hesitated, the thought of bearing my soul was starting to feel a little wrong, not like bad wrong but wrong in that I had no idea of whom I was talking to, and had no control once the info was out there. I began to feel a chill. I didn't think that I would have to spell it all out on the phone. What did I think would happen? I did not know. Except I thought that I could trust her, why could I not trust her? She was walking me thru the steps, and I am untrusting of her! How horrible, what to do? I can't tell her 'sorry, but I don't trust you.' that could not be the end of it.

"This is really hard for me, I am scared of you." I blurted out.

"What!" She almost burst out laughing, "Why would you be scared?"

"I have no idea how you might see me, you might think that I am a weirdo, and have no earthly idea of what you are really about, are you just into this for money, and have no intention of helping me with my fantasy once you are paid, do you think that I am not worth the trouble? Will you brush me off the next time I call, because of that? You asked me about my fantasy, it made me realize that I have always taken the woman in my fantasy as trusting, and never gave it any thought until now. I realize that I have no connection beyond this phone line to you, and that is why I am scared."

It all rolled out. That's the end, I have gone out and exposed my fear and there is no resolution to it. Nothing can be done for me I am a waste case. If I were she I would try to get off the phone as quickly as possible without being obviously rude and forget about it forever. But that is not what happened. 

"Naturally." She spoke factually. "I wouldn't expect you to go out and just feel comfortable about all the details of your intimate self listed off to someone you never met," she said, "but you did call me, you called me to find a part for your fantasy. You called me because I have a connection to you in some way, I have a website that says I am a mistress, I am a powerful woman that is willing to have you within my power, if you willingly allow it. John, if that is your name, you have never fully submitted to another person in your life, and you show this by all your mistrust, doubt and discomfort. I don't know who or what events lead to your mistrust of others, but this is something you need to give me for us to continue, understand? It is not up to me. John, I want you to call me tomorrow, ok? I want you to think about who I am. I have to run now, k?"

"Ok." I said bewildered. She hung up.

Call me tomorrow? Think about it? Who she is? Man. I am living a fantasy right out of the storybooks. She cornered me. There is no other choice but to trust her now, how did she do that? I felt totally compelled to trust in her now. I was starting to believe that the section of her website about white magic and stuff was more about being very adept at persuasive chess. I am out classed, and it will probably cost me. Hum. is it worth it?


The next day is busy, but the time passed very fast, I had something to think out. I had to find a way to put off my fear, to think about her as the one in control of me if I wanted to have her as my mistress, what power would I have if I let go? Then it hit me, letting go of power is what I want. Having the power to let go is what makes trust work. Before I called her I thought only of my needs, and now I was thinking of her needs. She could not help me because of my selfishness. Strange indeed. I think that I have finally come to know what was missing in my quest, it was seeing the balance between the two parts of the equation, submissive and dominant, my role is to trust, and her role is to guide. She really must be a witch, and a good one.

Five-o-clock came fast, I got in my car to go home and picked up my cell phone and plugged it in to the lighter to recharge. Should I call now? Eh, no. Wait till you can pay more attention. I pull into the drive and park. I roll down the window and dial the number, Mistress Elaine.

"Hello John" she said, this time her voice was more soothing, comforting. I imagined that she was in a relaxed position, with her focus on me.

"Hello again." I say, "I have been thinking a lot about you."

"Really?" she said coyly.

"Yes, you have convinced me to take a leap of faith."

"Oh, very good, very good, John." She said approvingly. "You're about to find the world of submission has much to offer."

We talked for about one hour about everything, about my desires, about her role, and how I fit into her world. There would be no intercourse, no physical touching and that means of any erotic areas, however, she did not mind planting devices such as vibrators. As the conversation turned to money, she told me that half was due at arrival, in cash, and the remainder could be put on a credit card, billed as a catalog fee. I felt awkward to be talking in terms of money, when I was just giving her myself so freely. The situation made me feel stupid. It was about as much as my car payment. I did not show it, but I felt sick.

I did feel as thought she knew me though, and she made me feel as though what I was telling her mattered. She listened attentively to me harping about how I wanted to be treated, and how I felt about bondage. She made me feel accepted. We set a date for the following month, and she would call the day before with directions, confirming the appointment.


The next few weeks for me seemed to drag on forever. I saw several movies in an attempt to stop thinking about the fateful date that I had made. I kept thinking about her, it was spooky. How could I barely know her and yet obsess over her this way? I don't want to give in to my thoughts about her but I find myself remembering her picture on the web, thinking that in a couple of weeks she will be doing things to me, taking my freedom away, possessing me. That thought has a powerful pull to it. It lures me to her. A week before the date, I got a phone call at work. At first I didn't recognize the voice.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hello John," the feminine voice said, "I have been thinking about you."

"Excuse me?" I said, taken by surprise.

"This is Mistress Elaine." She said.

"Oh, right, uh, how did you get this number?"

"Oh John, I do a background check on everyone who calls me, its procedure." She said flirting, "don't worry, I can't get more than your employment history, but that usually tells me all I need to know."

I did not say anything. I quickly stood up and looked out into the bullpen, glanced around to find that the place was still empty for lunch, and closed my office door.

"Johnny," she said playfully, "you've been a good boy for a long, long time."

Her voice sang out as though she were talking to a young child, and in that moment I realized that it was me she was addressing. I froze again, feeling shocked that she knew just how to pacify me, and arose me all at once. Damn. I never knew I had maternal needs, but they were screaming for more.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Well, Johnny is someone that can help me out." She spoke in third person, toying with my sense of dominant male presence. Her voice was passive, sweet and seductive. I had no idea how this request was going to go, but in my mind, I had already decided to help out in anyway possible.

"What is it?" I inquired.

"I thought you'd never ask, see I have to entertain some people this weekend, on Saturday, and with your appointment being on Friday, well, I got to thinking. maybe you could show up for the party, and well, I had just one thought, moving the date to Saturday instead?"

"Is that all, wow, sure, no problem. I have the weekend off." I said relieved. "Oh, what should I wear?"

"Its casual, of course, show up at 6:00. let me give you directions now." and she told me how to get to the place. She was ever so polite, and did not seem businesslike at all. I feared this might cost me somehow, but wasn't sure how. Six-o-clock? That was a bit early, maybe it was a dinner party? 

I decided to go by her place early to check it out, do a dry run the next day. It is Tuesday, I got off at 3:00, beating traffic, and left town to seek out the dungeon. The general area was easy enough to find, but I found myself out by the docks, nearly all that is here is warehouses. Strange, maybe it was a warehouse? I drove on. The directions said: 1234 West Apricot Circle, and I just passed it, the numbers go from 32 to 36, and there is no other side to the street, only the bay. I circle around to the backside of the buildings, and find out why. The block has odd and even to front and back, alternating. Between each build has an alleyway leading to the inner parking deck. The parking deck unified the whole complex. Clever, that is very clever. Satisfied that this place was going to be safe, and easily found, I had a hunger pain in my belly to deal with. So, I went home.

On Friday, the phone in my office rang at 2:00 it was Mistress Elaine. She told me the code for the parking garage and explained the code for entering the building as well. It seemed like a lot of security to me. She had a way of putting off fear, every time I talked to her she dissolved my fear into tiny fragments of paranoia, I almost felt ashamed.

The Party

Saturday came, and I spent the morning watching television, I ate three bowls of cereal, and finally got dressed. I had lunch with a friend at the mall, we went shopping, and then I had to explain that I had plans for the evening. This was harder than it sounds, how do you tell a friend that they can't crash a party with you, and not make them feel bad? That is right: don't tell them about the party. Ok, what to tell them? I just said that I had an appointment with my insurance agent, had to go over a few things. I told him I would call later if I got done early. I felt like this was a necessary, even though I knew that I wasn't going to be free later. 

Four-o-clock, I am getting ready to eat so that I can leave about five-o-clock. I am thinking of all the things that I had told Mistress Elaine about myself. How I enjoy being told what to do even though I am the one whose fantasy it is, how I love the process of being wrapped. I wonder if this fantasy of mine will become a reality or not?

Driving to the dungeon I think of all the things that might go wrong, and how I got into this situation. The car is at the parking deck gate. I look at the keypad for the answer, but it is not there. I am not going to go home, so punch the numbers I say to myself, trying to get past my fear. Entering the 8-digit code, I feel better. I drive up the ramp to the 3rd level and turn right, follow the deck to the end and park in front of the elevators. Three other cars were there, it seemed strange that only three cars would be here if there were a party going to happen. It was nearly 6:15, was I the only one here? 

At the elevator, there was another keypad; I entered the 8-digit code and the door opened. Stepping in, the doors closed behind me and the 1st floor button was lit, indicating to me that the code locked out other floors upon entry. 

The doors opened into a lobby, and Mistress Elaine turned around and said, "Goodness, your 15 minutes late!"

I didn't know why it was important to be punctual to a party, but I said, "I am sorry, traffic was heavy."

"Don't apologize," she said quickly, "we need to get started, come on." 

She led me down the hallway and into a small room; the room was like an examiners room at a doctor's office, except it had lockers on one side.

"Fill this out, then get dressed in this." She said handing me a medical blouse made of paper.

"But, I thought the party was first." I said confused.

"It is, my dear boy, but you are going as a employee, and that is the application. So hurry!" with that she shut the door leaving me even more confused.

I filled out the application, and got dressed, or rather, got into the medical blouse, then opened the door. She was waiting there took the application and me by the hand, almost running she took me to the end of the hallway to another room. This one was huge. I almost wet my pants at the sight of this room. It was brightly lit, and two women were on tables, one standing, and the other reclined, two other women were working on them. They were being wrapped in medical gauze. The women standing was totally wrapping up to her head, and the girl working on her was starting the final layers, a fiberglass cast layer! The girl smiled at me, and then kept on working. The girl reclined was not as far along, and the wrap was only up to her waist, she still had the paper blouse on. Bandages lined the shelves everywhere. I was in heaven, I could feel myself loosing control at the sight of it, and my paper blouse didn't hide my erection at all. It seemed as though every one in the room noticed at once. 

"Look whose here, its #3!" I turned bright red as Mistress Elaine introduced me. "This is helper #1, and helper #2," she pointed at the reclined (girl #1), then the standing (girl #2). "Here everyone stays anonymous, you understand. I'll let you introduce yourselves? There are some things I have to get cracking on." and she left the room.

"Hello, I am Tricia," said the closest worker, "and this is Linda." She said pointing to her fellow worker. I nodded, trying not to draw attention to myself. 

"Have you ever done this before?" Tricia asked. 

"Ah, no, no I haven't, not like this." I replied.

"So you have been wrapped up before, have you?" she inquired.

"Yes, but only by myself, this is the first time with help."

Tricia turned her head to Linda, "Did you hear that, we are his first time! That must be why you're so excited." She said eyeing my erection, now lifting the paper blouse up. 

"Don't worry, your in good hands, we'll take good care of you." Linda said, probably sensing my discomfort.

"Ok, girl number two is almost ready, just stay still honey and let the fiberglass cure." Said Tricia, looking at the form of #2, which was covered all except for the feet, hands and head. "When that is done curing, I'll come back and finish the rest." She turned and looked at me, "Your up, #3," she said devilishly as she motioned her finger to come forward, "I know you want this, don't you?"

I move forward to the spot where she was standing, and she looked my body over, thinking.

"What do you think Linda, what type of pose should he get, a standing or reclined?" asked Tricia. 

"Well, if you ask me we should open him up to the audience, seeing how he has lots to show off." Said Linda.

"Ok, that's fine with me." Said Tricia, "hop up here, dude." She motioned to the table, and I sat on the edge of the examiner's table, with my feet over the side. Tricia opened a box of pre-wrap and started wrapping my feet, winding the wrap up my leg. The pre-wrap ended at my calf, and without missing a beat she grabbed another roll and continued up, passing my knee, up my thigh, I scooted forward so she could get all the way up to my crotch before the roll ended. She got a new roll and repeated the process on the other leg. Next she wrapped my arms. As she was wrapping me I was looking at Helper #1, in the reclined position. She was now being wrapped around the torso, exposing her breasts to me, sitting across from her. They looked to be firm and full, #1 had a great looking body, to be sure.

Tricia finished both arms and said, "Stand up please." I got off the table and she ripped off the paper blouse, exposing me fully. They all took a moment to stare at me for a while no one said anything.

"I'll take that as a compliment!" I blurted out after at least thirty seconds had gone by, jolting them back to their work. Tricia started pre-wrapping my torso from the neck down.

"Do you work out a lot?" She asked.

"Yes, I have always been around a gym." This question was all too familiar to me, most of my co-workers have never seen me in a tank top, and when they finally do, they ask that question.

"Tricia, you might want to put a double layer on him. He might get bored and try to breakout." Linda said jokingly.

As Tricia reached my hips, she tapped the inside of my inner thigh, signaling for me to spread my legs. I complied. Tricia wove the pre-wrap in a figure-eight pattern around my ass, and under my legs. Finally all that was exposed was my head and penis. Helper #1 was almost totally cast now. Linda had finished weaving the resin soaked gauze around her body, leaving only her hands head and feet undone. But as I looked closer, I could see spots where just cotton and pre-wrap were left. Her breasts were cast on the underside only, with a figure eight in between them, pushing them up higher. Down between her legs, the area over her mound was left uncast as well. I glanced over at the other girl, and she too had been left uncast in the same areas.

"Ok, #3, its time to start the cotton layer, so just stay where you are." Tricia said. She started rolling away, expertly covering me with the soft fluffy gauze. She covered every area twice over. Looking down I saw my erection still standing firm, all that was left was to give me a final cast layer, and that excited me even more. I just stood there waiting.

"I want you to bend your knees slightly, and turn your ankles in just a bit." Tricia commanded, "Ok good, now hold that while I cast you there."

She started just above the ankle, and moved up quickly, past the knee and up my thigh. Linda had joined her to work on the other leg at the same time. I felt a drop of pre-cum run down my shaft this was euphoric. Both girls took an arm, and cast furiously, inside of ten minutes my legs and arms were done. Now they concentrated on my torso, going round and round at the same time, I think they had done this before. They took some time to integrate the joints together so they were reinforced, and covered the shoulders too. The legs started to firm up, and so were the arms, but they kept on casting the gauze in a criss-cross pattern for strength. It was tightly wound around my body, but because of the cotton it wasn't uncomfortable at all. I was really getting the full treatment. As they finished, I had the thought that when the resin hardened I would be totally unable to move a muscle. I am in heaven right now.

"What time is it?" asked Linda.

"Wow, it is only 8:15. Lets get #2 finished and take a break." Said Tricia.

Tricia and Linda took positions on either side of #2 and tilted her backwards, picked her up flat and rigid, level with the ground, it looked like they had just picked up a mannequin. Her body didn't move at all, not even a twitch. They put her onto two workhorses, and started wrapping her hands and feet. When they finished that, Linda reached into the cabinet, and pulled out a penis shaped gag and said, "Open up," and as #2 did so she slid it in, "that's it, all the way." The gag had an air plug at the end, and Linda pulled out a hand pump, inserted the tube, and gave it a few pumps. Tricia was stuffing Helper #2's ears with cotton, and started to pre-wrap her head, Linda put cotton pads over her eyes, and let Tricia finish. Linda picked up with casting over the cotton layer once Tricia finished. Round and round, soon Helper #2 was just a big sculpture, silent, rigid. Helper #1 and myself looked at each other in dismay, and smiled. We were next.
Tricia let a sigh of relief out, and turns towards the door. Linda followed close behind, shutting the door as they left the room.

"What's your name?" I asked, as soon as they were gone.

"I am Kelly, and you?" she replied.

"I am John." I said.

"You really like to be wrapped up don't you?" she asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

"Does it really show that much?" I joked, looking down at my raging erection. "Yes, I love this, its very arousing for me."

"That's great you can say that, I have a hard time with it." Kelly said.

"Really, how?" I asked.

"Oh, just in the way that everyone does, you know, I feel alone with it, as if I am the only one that likes it. I feel like a weirdo. That's all." Said Kelly, sounding a little down.

"Well, maybe that is why you're here in this room, to discover others who enjoy it too." I say, "I never thought it would be like this, I thought that most people acted as if they hated, kick and fight it, until later they secretly admit to themselves that they really enjoy it, like in all the stories on the internet."

"I know, isn't that funny?" Kelly shouted, "Those stories really don't reflect much reality, do they? How could somebody write about all the people that don't want mummification, when there might be so many people seeking it?" Her voice excited, I thought she is as crazy about being bound as I am.

"That is what I say! This scene here is nothing like those stories, I would certainly not fight it. hey, I think I hear them outside- what is your E-mail?"

"" Kelly blurted out.

"Mine is riptieron@cox.whatever." I say, just before the door opens.

Tricia and Linda stroll into the room, and the smell of smoke follows them. I smiled at her, and then at Tricia. Tricia looked at me, then grabbed my penis and said, "You haven't been bad, have you?"

I looked at her coyly, "Yes, I've been very bad." I said.

"I am going to have to punish you Johnny!" she said with a laugh. She gave me a small shove, and I lost my balance immediately. I had not expected the cast to be so firm. She looked at me as I fell slowly backwards. Fear swelled inside of me as I felt gravity gripped my body, I yelled out in terror, and then at the last moment, Linda caught me. Tricia and Linda both howled with laughter. I was not so amused as I had lost my erection, not funny at all.

Tricia grabbed the other side of my body picking me up as they had picked up #2, still lying on the workhorses. I had no control to move at all, aside from wiggling my hands and feet, but my entire body was firmly held solid as a rock. It was quite alarming to be carried across the room, without being able to move a muscle. Tricia and Linda placed me on the large table beside Kelly, on top of a short wooden box. My head was unsupported, and it was difficult to see what was happening, but someone squeezed my foot, and I could feel her start wrapping my feet. Next they started working on my hands, and I could feel my erection return at the thought of being totally immobile. 

"Someone is getting turned on," exclaimed Linda, "I'm going to have to do something about that."

She slid the box out and moved my body over to the edge of the table, then went to the cabinet for the gag.

"Open," she commanded, "good, that's it, all the way in." she said as she inserted the plug in to the nozzle, then as she squeezed the bulb, the gag inflated a little, she squeezed again and again. This gag was different than the one #2 received, it was a butterfly configuration. The wings started to fill up, but Linda didn't fill the gag all the way choosing to leave it half full for some reason. Cotton was being shoved into my ears, and Tricia was pre-wrapping my head. Linda finished my ears and put cotton over my eyes, just as she did Helper #2. Cotton wrap was applied, and then the cast layer started. It was dark and I could not speak, the wrap kept going on. There was a little spot beneath my nose that was exposed for me to breath through. Both girls slid my body forward back onto the table so that my head was supported. I had never felt this helpless before, so stuck. I wondered how long it would be before I got out, it sure seemed like an awful lot of trouble to go through for a couple hours of bondage. Then I heard Linda say something, she was yelling out the door, down the hallway. "They're almost ready, getting the last one ready now!" 

I could only make out muffled voices, unless someone yelled I would not make it out at all. I heard Tricia's voice more clearly than Linda's; she has a more distinct sounding voice than Linda. Tricia said, ".it's only 9:20, I wish she would cool out for once."
Then Linda said, ". Lowas ink ta, .lowas." that was all that I caught.

"I know but we go through this every time, and we always finish the decorations on time," said Tricia, "There, she's done, time to take off the pre-wrap."

Suddenly I felt fingers tearing away the wrap at my crotch area, cleaning away loose ends of cotton and pre-wrap. Then a firm hand grasped my cock and started pumping, rhythmically, steady. I couldn't budge the cast a millimeter, I strained but nothing happened. Then it stopped, and something was slid onto my shaft to the base, a cock ring. Then to my surprise I felt some ripping at the crack of my ass, oh God, they left a spot there too! Then unannounced, a slimy intruder forced it's way into my ass. I groaned into my gag, and felt totally violated by its presence.

Now I felt like some of the internet stories were true, I had not counted on the fact that a butt plug inserted by some other person other than one's self might not be an arousing experience. The amount of KY jelly on the plug is what saved me; it popped into place and rested there firmly. I felt it grow suddenly, then again, and again- it was inflatable! Oh! I don't thick I can take much more I am going to cum! I am on the very edge, barely hanging on. Then it stopped, everything stopped. I was in space, couldn't move, see, or hear. Suddenly I felt dizzy. I was being moved. I was lifted onto the floor, then jostled a bit, then tilted back onto something. I was being moved to another place. I heard fuzzy voices around me, it seemed very busy, I heard a female voice say, "over there." and I was moved swiftly off. There was some scuffling about my feet, then nothing. Everything was quite except for some distant shouting.

I don't know how long it was before the music started, but it was loud, and had a lot of base to it. I guessed that I had found my way to the party, and that I was 3rd of the three party favors present tonight. With the music going it was impossible to hear anything outside of my shell, it was like a wall protecting me from everything outside. I began to drift in and out. Then suddenly, I felt someone touch me, something touched my still erect cock. It was like cloth, someone passed too close. It must be crowded out there. Soon it was a common occurrence. The room must be full. I wonder what type of crowd it is?

Then someone really touched it, no grasped it. I inhaled fiercely trying to stay calm. There was nothing I could do to stop it. The hand grabbed the base and I felt a rubber being pushed down my shaft by a pair of lips. Then I felt the back of their throat as they struggled to get the last little bit to the base of my engorged cock. This was great. I think I could do this every weekend. Struggling to keep calm, I have no defense against to evade the onslaught on stimulus that is thrust upon me. The cast holds me firmly in place, allowing no noticeable struggle. Inside I am dying. I don't think I can take this much longer, but I must; I have no choice. The rubber is on my cock now, is something else going to happen? All that I can hear is the rhythmic beat of the music, the base vibrating the cast. I feel a hand stroke me in beat to the music, teasing me. There must be several people standing about, watching one person give a show. Wish I could watch. Right now I am on the inside, getting a great hand job, enjoying the whole thing.

As the night moved on, I was used repeatedly, all by anonymous people, placing their hands on me, some just curiously touching, others were not so shy at all, but very dogged, almost brutal. Three people went down on me and one rubbed the palm of their hand flat against the head of my penis, making me quake uncontrollably. The loud music continued and the bass vibrated my cast. I was not able to cum, being prevented by the cock ring at the base of my shaft. As long as it was there I would not get any satisfaction. I am usually quick to release myself while in a vulnerable position, but the ring has a certain grip that I find most annoying. I would have to wait for the night to end.

Eight to ten songs later, and I have no idea how long each song was playing for, I noticed the crowd must have thinned out a bit, people were not bumping or brushing past my frozen body, and the room was getting cooler. The air was less moist, and I smelled less perfume. It must be late. I could sense the change in the party, and I began to regain my excitement. I had been a decorative element at a private rave, or something. The decorations at these parties are just for mood, and I am sure that others got into the mood, without a doubt.

Being one of the decorations gave me a new perspective on what its like to be one. Decorations are the life of the party, novelty, until the life of the party is gone, then at that very small time within the party, decorations are abandoned, and having served their purpose, are discarded, and ignored. forgotten. I am now just a thing in the middle of a room full of vultures looking for other sport, their eyes and focus on the movement of more fascinating things, living things, real things. I was no longer real to them, I was a decoration. I could not free myself and I feel alone, I could not join in the hunt for other sport, I knew I would remain out of their eyes, a nameless, emotionless faceless dick, propped up in the room like a lamp or sculpture. 

The music stopped and the room must be empty, though I could not tell, I imagined that several people were cleaning up. Picking up paper, removing the leftover food, the DJ tearing down his equipment, I would be set free soon. I reflect on how most of the parties I have thrown end up, one or two in the morning, four to five core group people still hanging out somewhere in the shadows, while I clean away the food, and the dishes, pick up the bottles and cups. this must happen at some point. I was ready to be free, too. As I have no way to release, my balls ached, and my shaft was throbbing, it must be a deep purple color by now. Oh, too much of a good thing. I thought to myself. I was so thirsty. What could be done but to wait? 

Not a moment later, a pair of hands grasped my dick and slowly, expertly, removed the ring and the rubber. The air was cold against my penis, my excitement jumped. Nothing happened. The stimulation stopped, was this it? Was it over? Would I be moved down to the room I came in from and released? It would make sense, taking off the ring, now that the party was done. Whoa! I was being jostled about. Someone is moving me. Oh dear, I am now horizontal. I am being carried by two people; one to each side of me, a scary dizzy feeling came over my body, just as before. Thud! They placed me down onto a hard surface, face up.

All was quiet, and I still have a raging hard on. I got the idea that this was not over when I heard a door slam, and could hear a loud clang; I recognized it as the sound of a dead bar being lowered into place over the doors to the room. I was locked in the room. They did not just leave me here? They did! They left me locked in a vacant back room. I would be her for a while, I guessed. With all of the padding on my head, and the cast, I couldn't hear anything. The cotton was warm on my skin but it left no real room to move, and I could just flex a muscle but a little. This helped but more than anything it just reminded me that I was going nowhere.

After a while, I started to nap, and then finally, sleep. I was relaxed, comfortable, and warm. The gag in my mouth was still inflated, I had to swallow my own saliva, but that was the worst of it. This would not be so bad. I dreamt of being at the party, and near my own body in the cast, seeing myself from the other side. It was like an out of body experience. I wanted people to touch me; I saw them just moving past me staring but afraid, and not sure that it would be alright, or clean, or something. Then I noticed that everyone was in formal dress, evening gowns and suits, the occasional tuxedo, dotted the room.

Soon the room was full, and the bars were busy, people were drinking, and I was centered between the two other cast women, in the center of the hall, twenty feet in front of the stage where the DJ was set. Mistress Elaine took the stage with a microphone and greeted her guests, the words were far off, and it was dreamy, but I understood she was introducing the party to her guests. With a wave of her hands, the music came, and four painted women ran from behind the stage, dancing into the crowds, four large and muscle-clad men also painted, ran from behind the stage. These performers had no clothes, but every inch of there skin was covered with bright colorful painted patterns. The crowd erupted with cheer, and immediately turned its attention to the dancers, parading their bodies in front of the guests. Glasses were raised to the hostess, and the hall was hot with the glow of happy guests. 

I dreamt that the hall was red. Red lights, red décor, and warm red glowing beautiful people. The music was rhythmic and never ending, as the dancers grabbed men by their ties, and the women were herded by the men, and sex was meaningless, flirting crossed all genders, no boundaries could be found. I saw groups of people mixing and coming together, enthralled by the mere suggestion of sex, and the lure of the atmosphere. I saw myself as a catalyst, sparking the ideas, becoming the example for what one could do for another, the demonstrative tool of conversation and entertainment. I had dreamt the dream of my dreams and it began to fade to darkness, in a sad way it was going away. Not disappearing, but fading, becoming smaller and smaller, until my conscience mind told me I was now; I was awake in the cast, plugged in the ass, gagged at the mouth, the tool out lived its use. I was abandoned, in a closet somewhere. Locked away like old Christmas decorations. How would this end?



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