Gromet's PlazaMummification Stories

Lydia and Me 10

by Pleasewrap

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© Copyright 2005 - Pleasewrap - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; M/f; gift; wrap; cocoon; gag; bfold; straps; bond; toys; tease; tricked; torment; denial; cons; X

story continues from part nine

Lydia & Me 10 - Present Time

My birthday happens to come on a holiday or at least a day that’s supposed to be a holiday if we didn’t muck with the calendar and make sure that as many “holidays” fall on Mondays as is humanly possible. Personally, I find that a little annoying. If the day’s important enough to celebrate, shouldn’t we ignore the three day weekend idea and actually celebrate that particular day? Anyway, it just so happened that this year the stars, planets, and calendar all aligned so that my actual birthday, holiday, and a Monday all hit on the same day. So it was going to be three days of fun and celebration.

I’d even been magnanimous and given my one full time employee the Friday before off as well. Given that she happens to be my wife, that was also good politics at home. Lydia and I had decided to “join forces” on the consulting front as well as martially. I’d set up a corporation when I first started consulting to protect myself from losing my house to a mistake in code, so it made sense for Lydia to “come to work for me” rather than risk personal liability herself. She’s also amazingly bad at administration and positively hates bookkeeping, so rather than make me go through the pain of changing the articles of incorporation, she just came on board as an employee. Not that this really meant anything – it was a partnership in everything but name.

The two of us made a very good team on the work front as well as at home. We both had good reputations, and we generated more references than we knew what to do with on more than a few occasions. So I’d started farming out the referrals to other consultants I knew and trusted for a finder’s fee. That gave us a growing circle of references that just seemed to feed off of itself, leading to more and more business. I was doing less and less coding and more and more schmoozing and managing, normally hiring other independents to do the actual work. It was still a lot of work, though, and I was looking forward to the weekend and not actually doing any.

Part of that was the fact that my last birthday had kind of been eaten by the wedding and planning. We were married just over a month after my birthday, and the calendar didn’t cooperate that year, so between work, dress alterations, flower selection, food tasting, and generally running around like our hair was on fire, the day had turned into a couple drinks, dinner, and collapsing from exhaustion. So this year I was glad to wrap up the day a bit early for me (around 4:30 – I can be a workaholic) and head out of the offices we’d finally rented to be home around 5:00. Traffic pushed that out to around 5:15, which I probably should have expected with the long weekend.

As I turned my car into the driveway, I noticed Jane’s car in front of the house, which was both a pleasant surprise and an annoyance. Jane’s become a good friend since we had our heart to heart, and Lydia’s absolutely thrilled to have her around. I envy their camaraderie frequently, since most of the really good friends I have are at least one time zone away these days. Getting to know her better has been good for me as well, and we’ve all been able to expand our circle of friends just from knowing each other and meeting the other’s acquaintances.

However, she’d managed to park in the driveway blocking me from the garage. So instead of sailing into the garage and my house, I had to park on the street and head in through the front door.

“Lydia, that you?”

Jane’s question reached me from the kitchen as I walked through the front door.

“Nope. ‘fraid not. I tried her about thirty minutes ago, but there wasn’t an answer. How are you Jane?”

If it strikes you as weird that I didn’t care that Jane was in our house when nobody was home, that’s just the way things are. Lydia gave her a key before our wedding, and it’s not a privilege she abuses. She drops by to borrow something, return something, leave us something, or just generally spend some time with us. At first, it struck me as a bit odd, but since she was a marvelous guest, I adapted quickly. This time, there was a dress draped over one of the chairs in the dining area and a small present with a bow on the table. She was standing at the sink with a half-empty glass of water in her hand.

“I’m very, very well. Why are you coming… Ohhhhh. I’m blocking your garage, aren’t I?”

I grinned and said, “Yup. Not a problem, I can pull the car in later. What’s the occasion?”

“Sorry, Ray. I didn’t expect to get here so late or so be long. I suppose Lydia’s out preparing for your birthday.” Jane returned to the table and started cleaning up the newspaper that was scattered on the table.

The laptop in the bag over my shoulder reminded me that I still hadn’t put my things down. I started to head towards the bedroom as I said “She hadn’t mentioned it, so I’m surprised she’s not here. Let me drop my bag by the desk and we can talk if you’ve got time.”

“I don’t know if you should do that. The bedroom door is locked, so I figure she’s got something cooking. Otherwise, I’d have hung up the dress.” The paper was now neatly stacked and Jane headed for the kitchen again. She refilled her glass and headed towards the table, where she sat down.

I turned around and headed back towards the table. I grinned at Jane and said, “Well, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise if she is. She give you any hints?”

Jane gave me an “I’d get in trouble if I told” look and said, “Even if she did, I wouldn’t tell you. I wish she’d get back, though. I was also coming over to get a pair of pumps I’d loaned her. I’m seeing Dave again tonight.”

I smiled and dropped my bag on another of the chairs, then headed for the fridge for a beer. “That’s number seven or eight with him, isn’t it?” I asked as I mulled my choices of beverage.

“Nine, actually. Two months today, not that I’m counting. And we’re having a very good time.”

I grinned as I pulled out a Hefewiezen and opened it. “Wow. Not too good a time, I hope.”

“Not as much fun as you guys have with all your toys. I might just have to come up with a way to need to borrow some of those.”

I laughed as I returned to the table and sat down.

“I’m not sure that those are things you lend out, Jane. Locks, leather, and electric toys might scare him, too. Plus, rope’s cheap and easy to find. I thought you and Lydia were getting together today for something?”

Jane finished taking a swig of her water, shaking her head as she put down the glass. “She’s got something up her sleeve. We weren’t on for anything today. You’d better watch yourself today”

I laughed. “My scheming wife. I can’t wait.”

Jane grinned at me as she stood up and started back to the kitchen. “I’ll bet. Rope seems so bland compared to your war chest.”

“Plastic wrap is cheap and interesting. Time to go?”

She answered my question with her actions as well as her words. As she spoke, she gathered her purse and phone. “Yep. I need to get ready for my date and I think I should get out of your way. Oh, there was an envelope on the door when I came in. I moved to the refrigerator so it wouldn’t get blown away or otherwise lost. Tell Lydia she owes me.”

“For the pumps? That important to you, huh?”

She grinned and didn’t answer, hustling for the door.

“Gotta run, Ray. You have a good birthday if I don’t see you.”

I showed her to the door, then headed back to the kitchen. I couldn’t think what the envelope would be for other than some advertising that I toss in the recycling when I remember to check the front door. A plain white envelope was stuck to the door with one of our magnets with absolutely nothing on it. I figured a neighbor must have left it for some reason.

I sat down with my beer and opened the envelope. College ruled paper was inside, with writing in pen. When I unfolded it, I recognized Jane’s handwriting immediately. My curiosity immediately was piqued and I put down the beer I’d just picked up.


I’m a bad, bad girl and you’ll have to convince Dave to punish me for you.

You see, I remember a certain encounter where you ended up strapped into a straightjacket and awaiting the return of my best friend. And another time where I managed to help that friend beat you at poker in less than above the board ways. While I know you enjoyed the results, I feel like I need to make that up to you.

Your bedroom door is locked, but I’m the one that did that. If you’re reading this and I haven’t called you after being gone about ten minutes, congratulations on being so prompt in dealing with your mail.

Happy birthday. I’m glad we had a chance to get reacquainted.


I immediately had an idea what I was going to find, and barely remembered to bring my beer with me as I headed towards the bedroom. I fumbled with the keys for a minute, then unlocked the deadbolt on the door and swung it open.

On the bed lay an amorphous form wrapped in blue plastic wrap. A pair of marvelously shaped breasts had been left uncovered, a wire led out from the area just below the hips, ending in a familiar plug, and a black rubber tube protruded from the mouth. Other than that, the only bit of skin showing was at the nose, which had been left unblocked.

The figure was held firmly to the bed by straps. I recognized the blue ones as the cargo straps I’d bought after Lydia had come back. They were designed to secure loads in the back of pickups or in trailers, each 24 feet long, and three circled the bed at shoulder, hip, and ankle height. Rather than using these to strap the mummy to the bed, shorter black straps went under the cargo strap on each side, then passed over the body from there, forming a double line, joining neatly in the middle with a friction clasp.

I grinned as I took in the sight and pulled on my beer. Lydia obviously could hear, because her head turned towards the door when it opened and started grunting and attempting to speak. The blindfold became more visible under the wrap as she did. She emphasized her speech by struggling against the straps and wrap, making her breasts move invitingly. My grin grew as I headed over to the bed.

I avoided making contact with the bed itself, and carefully picked up the end of the wire. Lydia’s head still faced towards the door, and she squirmed against the straps that pinned her on top of the blanket. I couldn’t tell if she was angry or excited, but I could tell one thing – she wasn’t humming a tune. I slowly and carefully inserted the plug on the wire into the control for the vibrator, then turned it on. I left it on the low setting rather than selecting one of the programs, knowing that she’d only want more than that. I put the remote back on the bed and grabbed my beer from the dresser where I’d left it.

Her “speech” ceased the moment that the vibrator went on and her hips moved upward as the buzzing started. Then I very slowly started caressing her body with my free hand, starting at her feet and moving up towards her body. She struggled, and again tried to say something. I ignored her as I traced a criss-cross pattern up her body. I carefully ignored her breasts, instead focusing on her neck and cheeks. Her chest strained upward as I passed them, and she seemed to growl at me before that turned into a somewhat plaintive moan.

I leaned over towards her head and said, “Jane always knows just what to give us, doesn’t she?”

Lydia’s only reply was to turn her head toward me and squirm against the wrap and straps more. I guessed that she must have been here for a while, as she seemed more than ready for me to skip the preliminaries and head right for the main event. For Lydia, struggling is often more about getting me excited (which it does) than it is for her. While she does struggle when bound, for her it’s different than for me. It’s enough for her to be helpless and at my mercy – she doesn’t seem to take the same pleasure or achieve the same “high” that I get from the additional feeling of striving to escape. While she does do it sometimes, it’s frequently a sign that she’s ready for more.

I smiled and said to her, “Oh, I don’t think I’m ready to unwrap my present just yet, dear. My birthday’s not for another two days, don’t you know?”

As I spoke, I took my beer bottle, still quite cold, and gently touched it to her right nipple. She groaned in response, her chest starting to heave upwards again slightly. I grinned and lightly moved it around, my captive wife squirming attractively as the cold glass glided over her skin. I was just about to reach for the other nipple with my free hand when the phone rang and I nearly spilled my beer on her in surprise.

“Don’t go away. I should probably get that.”

Lydia growled into her gag and shook from side to side. I chuckled a little and turned off the vibrator as I headed for the phone.

“Did you read the note?”

Jane’s voice had a bit of a giggle in it as she asked the question after I’d said “Hello.”

“I did and I found my present,” I replied. “How’d you get her like this?”

“I’ll leave it to her to tell you when you decide to let her talk. I’ve got a date to get ready for, you know. Happy Birthday!”

The line went dead, and I put the phone down again. While I could have had some fun and left Lydia as she was for a bit of torture, I was simply too curious to find out what exactly had gone on. I found the safety scissors conveniently on the headboard right by Lydia’s head and used them to cut away the wrap holding in the gag.

“You need to be more careful who you play with,” I said as I deflated the gag and removed it. Before Lydia could speak, I kissed her. She returned it with sufficient passion to make it obvious she’d been this way for at least a little while.

“Ohhhhh, when I get my hands on her…” Lydia started. The she gasped as I let my beer bottle touch her breast again. “That’s not nice.”

I laughed a little and said, “So how did she get you like this? The whole story or you might not get any relief.”

Lydia pouted, but started to tell the story.

“She came over around 10:00 so that we could get facials and manicures at that day spa that just opened. Then we were going to go to lunch and do some shopping. The spa ran until about 11:30 without anything really interesting happening, just girl talk and her telling me about Dave. He thinks he knows you, by the way.”

I put the bottle back in contact with her, but changed nipples.

“No getting off the subject, you. Then what?”

She groaned and then growled a little, but continued. “It was at lunch that things got more racy. She told me that she & Dave had slept together a few times and that the sex was good. But she kept drifting back to our toy chest before, during, or after, wondering what that would be like. She said she had an image of him in a straightjacket and tied to rings in the ceiling that wouldn’t go away.

“So then she asked me how we’d gotten started. Could I get some water? I’m really getting dry.”

I decided that this one wasn’t an effort to halt the story, and I know I can get very dry when I’m all wrapped up. So I headed for the kitchen to grab a pitcher, glass, and straw. For good measure, I put extra ice in the pitcher.

After she’d had her drink and thanked me (wise thing for a slave to do, wouldn’t you say?), she started up again.

“I told her about that ridiculous book I was reading and how the scenes turned me on. That I’d finally gotten the nerve to talk to you about it and the rest was history.”

I though back to that first weekend fondly, remembering the climbing equipment and finding new and better ways to put rope, carabineers, and each other’s bodies to good use. I could picture my pretty girlfriend in a hog tie for the first time, struggling so helplessly and prettily with such clarity that the image only added to the current situation and caused stiffening in my nether regions. I grabbed and ice cube and used it to touch both nipples in a slow, lingering fashion.

“Hey! What’s that for? I’m still telling the story.”

I leaned close to her ear and whispered, “True, but you’re distracting me anyway. I hadn’t really pictured that weekend in a while. Better get going again.”

She stuck her tongue out me and squirmed in defiance. I just kept the ice in contact until she finally started talking again.

“All right, all right. She asked me if we’d been any good at it at first and I told her that we had our good moments and our bad ones. Sometimes we tied each other up well and sometimes it was a cinch to escape. How we’d made a game of it… Would you stop with the ice already? You’re going to give me frostbite and I can’t be blamed if you’re getting yourself excited.”

I laughed and dropped the shrunken ice cube back into the pitcher. Then I turned the bullet on the constant low setting. “Giving me orders isn’t going to make it any easier for you, dear. You’re not in a position to demand much.”

Lydia had arched her back in response and shook a little when the bullet went on. Then she let herself slump back onto the bed and gathered her composure for a moment before continuing.

“So I told her how we’d made it a game – escape and become the master or stay a slave for a few hours before we let each other go. She looked at me and said she was worried that if she got to tie him up, ohhhhh god that thing’s going to drive me crazy, that she wouldn’t do it very well.

“So I told her I could show her how to tie some knots and get things nice and snug without hurting or cutting off circulation. And that’s when our plans changed.”

I turned off the bullet since it was obviously distracting her a bit and she seemed to relax even more. Rather than risk further torture, she continued.

“So shopping went out the window and we came here. She’d mentioned something about our toys and I told her she didn’t want to scare him off by coming off like a professional domme. She’d nodded at that and I grabbed the rope.

“And she was terrible at it. The knots were too loose or in places I could reach. We were still dressed and I would show her how to tie on her hands while they were in front of her and then let her try on me behind my back. Just the hands to start since that’s the most critical part, anyway. And she was awful, or at least acted like she was. I think she was faking it.

“She finally managed one tight tie, then cinched it so tightly I thought my right hand was going to go dead before she finished it. So I’d made her let me loose and, ummmmmmm don’t stop…”

I realized that while I’d been listening I’d begun to idly stroke her breast. I decided that this time I’d honor the request and leaned over to kiss her. “Then you’d better keep pleasing me, slave.”

She lifted her head as the kiss ended, trying to prolong it. I didn’t let her succeed. Taking the hint, she went back to her tale.

“I told her she needed lots more practice or she was going to hurt someone. That she should probably try on chairs or dowels or something inanimate. She pouted at me and said she’d been looking forward to trying to get Dave interested this weekend. She seemed so determined that I finally caved in and asked if she thought of using plastic wrap.

“And that’s when she got me. She asked if there were any tricks to know since she really wanted him helpless if she tied him like that. I don’t know why I did, but I told her I could talk her through it on me. So I went and got the wrap from the toy closet and stripped.”

What had been a slight stiffening of interest now began building rapidly to a raging erection. I love my wife dearly and would never think of cheating on her, but the image that was now forming in my mind has to qualify as a fantasy for just about every guy in the world. Two beautiful women about to engage in a bit of bondage play? Ohhh, the possibilities that suddenly filled my very kinky mind. Blindfolded and helpless, Lydia wouldn’t have known for sure, but I’ll bet she suspected it.

I worked on paying better attention to the conversation by asking, “And when this all happen?

“It was around 2:00 or 2:30 by now. So I talked her through wrapping the torso first…”

She drifted to a stop and gasped. I’d decided that this would be an appropriate moment to put the bullet back to good use and again selected the low setting. Combined with the touch to her breast, she would get steaming pretty quickly now. Attention to the conversation be damned.

“…torso first, then how you wrap around once and make crosses. She asked me about breasts and penises and making them accessible so I had her make many crosses around my breasts. By the time, mmmmmmmm, she was done I was wrapped to my waist.

“I told her that from there I liked to start at the feet, would you turn that up or turn it off?”

I replied by doing neither and leaning over to lick her nipple. “You’re keeping me waiting, slave.

Lydia strained upwards with her chest, then shook all over before she regained her composure and continued.

“She threw a couple of turns around my ankles and was about to move upwards when she stopped and asked how we kept each other from falling off the bed. I told her that she didn’t want to leave Dave for long the first time and she didn’t need to worry about it, but she’d just smiled and said ‘Humor me, Lydia. Maybe he’s done this before.’

“So I told her about the cargo straps in the closet and wrapping them around the bed. She went ‘Oooohhh,’ then went back to the plastic wrap. But instead of starting at the ankles, she moved back up to my hands and sealed them up, wrapping down to my mid-thigh. When she stopped again, I asked why and she just grinned and walked out of the room. That’s when I knew I was in trouble.

“She came back with the gag, blindfold, and the damned vibrator you’re killing me with. Turn it up, please? I started to protest, but she put a hand over my mouth and said, ‘I owe Ray at least one of these, Lydia. Probably more for that weekend with the poker game. So you’re going to behave while I get my present ready or I’ll put the gag in now.”

My hard on finally hit its peak and I decided to reward my wife by switching to one of the pulsing programs for the bullet. I leaned over to kiss her again, then said, “And the rest is history?”

She nodded, already starting to breathe harder.

“She… made me… stand there… and watch… while she… finished… preparing things. Oh, Ray get it over with.”

I reached for the scissors and cut a triangular hole over her mound, then stroked her breast and shut off the bullet. She groaned and started to say something but the gag went back in before she could get it out.

“I don’t know, hun. Falling for that makes me think I should punish you for being silly enough to trust her.”

She shook her head and strained against the wrap and straps as I began to wrap the gag back in place. When that was back in place, I started playing with nipples again and put the bullet back on low.

“And my birthday is two days away…”


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