Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/S/SANDTRAP.TXT

Text File | 1994-07-04 | 12.5 KB | 224 lines

================The Sand Trap
                        by Dave the PerVECT ([e-mail])


        I awoke to a backrub and her voice in a whisper, "Slave, it's time
to wake up."  I rolled over in half-conciousness on the bed and cracked
an eye open.  It was dark.  If it weren't for the table lamp on her side of
the bed, the only light that would've entered the bedroom would be star-light
and a couple of house lights across the street.  Even then, the dimmer on
the lamp was set to 'low'.

        She was dressed.  From what my myopic eye could make out, it looked
like Abbey was wearing her bikini.  Whether it was the black one or the
electric blue one was a question left for more light to answer.  Not that
it mattered too much.  Her slim figure and modest breasts looked excellent
in any swimwear.  Longish brunette hair shuffled over her shoulders as she
leaned forward over me and whispered, "You have a punishment to withstand,
slave.  Get up.  Get showered.  Your slave suit will be waiting."  I nodded.
Already, something of mine had gotten up and was standing.  She caressed
my crotch through the satin sheet for a moment, walked over to the lamp,
turned it up another notch (blue), and walked out of the bedroom.  Had I had an
alarm clock like this in college, I might actually have gone to every class.

        Staring lazily at the walls, I cracked my other eye open.  Power.
She had it.  And I had gladly given it to her.  I could never have guessed
that she would enjoy playing out her female dominant role so much.  In most
other decisions, we were on equal footing; but with pleasure....

        I re-awoke to her hands pressing down on my chest, her blue eyes
boring into mine. "You disobeyed me.  That makes for another hour of
discipline.  I'd recommend getting up.  Now."  The voice never went above
a whisper, but the words were as sharp as knives.  Did I just wander back
to sleep on my own or had my subconscious knowingly put me there?  No use
debating it now.  I sat up.  "Good," she said. "Take your time in the shower."
The evil smile that followed sent a shiver down my spine.  She got up
and left again. I put my glasses on and looked at the clock:  4:00am!
What on Earth does she want me up at four o'clock for?!  I guess I'll
find out.

        I really tried to take my time in the shower; to make her wait
for the pleasure of taunting her slave.  But anticipation is a two-edged
sword.  I couldn't wait.

        After doing the normal morning routine, I walked naked out of the
bathroom to find my slave suit lying on the bed.  I sat down on the bed and
picked up the silver-grey spandex suit.  It was time to put it on and find
out what was on my Captress' mind.

        The slave suit was much like a full body spandex suit with two
additions.  First, around both legs from waist to ankle was sewn a tube
of spandex.  The tube was just wide enough for me to take eight inch steps.
Second, the arms of the suit were sewn to the body from the armpit to the
elbow. From the elbow to the wrist, a sheet of spandex stretched from one
arm to the other such that, with the spandex unstretched, the most
comfortable position was standing with my arms at my sides and my wrists
in front of me, about ten inches apart.  Enough to do dishes I found out
one evening.

        I had just manouvered my arms into the sleeves when my Captress
walked back into the room.  "Good.  Just in time, it's 4:30."  She zipped
the slave suit closed at my back.  From neck to toe the skin-tight suit
restrained me.  It needed no lock.  There was no way for me to get at
the zipper.

        "Why are we up so early, my Captress?"

        "We are going for a ride, slave."  Ohmigod.  I'm not going *outside*
with this thing on, am I?  "I like you in that slave suit.  I think you should
stay in it until we get there."

        Blushes for me come in one shade:  Neon Red.  "Get where, my Captress?"

        "Ahh, yes, the Questions.  I expected this..."  She reached over to
the floor on the other side of the bed and brought up her NBA beach bag.  From
within she pulled out a spandex gag with a small cotton sack attatched to
fill my mouth.  It was applied firmly and with care.  "Let's go."

        "Nice beach bag.  What else ya got in it?"  I thought.

        I stood up and began the long walk to the front door.  Eight inches
per step brought the reality of walking outside in my slave suit slowly
closer.

        The door was opened.  My Captress had to push me to start me hobbling
out the door onto the deck.  It was still dark outside.  How many of her
neighbors would be up at a quarter to five in the morning on a Saturday...
looking out their windows?   I became fully aware of the spandex around me,
taunting me:  letting me stretch it just so much, giving me a small taste
of freedom, and then pulling me back in.  The gag I wore felt huge.  Were some-
one to see me... I couldn't bare to think it.

        I went to the passenger side alone.  She opened her door, climbed in
and closed it.  I watched her as she took an amazingly long time re-arranging
her bag and placing it carefully on the seat behind her.  I stood there between
two locked doors, house and car, wondering whos eyes were open in the houses
around me.  When was a car going to drive by?  I felt my bondage quite acutely.
Then she started the car!  My door was still locked!  Slowly she backed the
car away from me, drove off of the driveway and pulled up alongside the curb
50 feet down the lane.  I had no choice.

        Slowly I hobbled towards the car.  Unsure how far I'd get before
she'd drive further away, unsure if there were any witnesses.  The soft
spandex did its job and aroused me along with impeeding my progress. I made
it to the grass.  I made it to the door.  She unlocked it.  I got in and
put on my seatbelt after straining hard to close the opened door.

        For all my trouble, she took off my glasses, took another spandex
strip out of her beach bag, and blindfolded me.  Then she caressed my nervous
body.  "Relax.  You look so cute tied up like that."  Did I mention the
color Neon Red?

        She drove.

        I usually have a good sense of direction, but she drove around her
subdivision long enough that I had no idea which twisty road we were on
when she turned onto one of the major roads.

        I tried to listen for traffic, tried to determine our destination.
I couldn't believe I was out of doors wearing a spandex hobble-suit, gag
and blindfold.  My Captress turned on the radio.  The Cars covered up
much of the outside noise.

        Soon she stopped the car and shut it off.  I knew where we were.  I
knew what she was going to do.  I heard the waves crash on the beach.  She
took off my blindfold and replaced my glasses.  "Get out of the car and
follow me, slave."

        It was getting fairly light outside and there was noone around.  Then
again, who's going to be at the beach at the crack of dawn?  From the trunk,
she pulled out a deck chair and walked down towards the beach.  Slowly, I
plodded along behind her.  By the time I had made it to the sand, she was
already walking back to the car.  "Meet me by my chair."

        Alone, in my bondage, I had to sludge through the sand.  My Captress
passed me by and sat on the chair, by the pit.  She waited.  She watched. I
know she was loving every minute of it... and vice versa.

        When I got to her, she pointed at the pit.  "It's six feet, six inches
deep.  I am going to release you from the slave suit.  You will be naked, and
I have the car keys.  You will climb into the pit.  Are you ready?"

        All I had to do was shake my head 'no'.  She'd be dissapointed, but
she'd understand and we'd discuss it later.  I was nervous, I was scared.
We'd never actually done this, but I wanted to try.  I nodded.

        She came up to me and unzipped my slave suit.  I peeled it off
and enjoyed a brief moment of freedom.  I looked around me at the sky,
the waves, and the sand.  I went to untie the gag, but she grabbed my hands
and shook her head.  She removed my glasses and led me to the pit.  "Get in,
slave."  I jumped down into the awaiting maw.

        Indeed, it was eight inches taller than I was, and my Captress
started filling the pit with sand.  It was cool and soft just like the
last few times she'd buried me chin deep, and it now covered my ankles.

        From eight inches above, my Captress stated, "Hmmmm....  I never
did tell you why you were being punished, did I?"

        "Mmm-Mmm," I tried to say as I shook my head.  I was watching
the sand as it climbed up my calves.

        "Well, I recall telling you quite some time ago that I was not
happy with you spending extra time at work when you should be busy attending
to me.  I wanted you with me at 5:25pm. Just enough time to drive to my place
from work."  My knees were disappearing under more sand.

        "In the past 3 weeks you have totaled up 4 hours of lateness.  Add to
that your sleeping late this morning and that makes 5 hours.  I want those hours
back.  You will now be *here*, with me, where you belong for 5 hours."  The
sand was climbing up my thighs.  When it reached my crotch, I was ordered to
hold my erect penis down so that it pointed horizontally away from me.  When the
sand was up to my waist, I had to carefully remove my hands from the sand, pack
the sand down around me and dig two holes, one for each hand.  I placed my hands
in the holes, fingers slightly spread, and my Captress continued to bury me.

        As the sand kept pouring into the pit, I tried to move my legs.  No use.
They were packed in too deeply.  Soon the sand was up to my chest and elbows.
Every few shovel-fulls she'd stop and gaze into my eyes.  Taking in my
helplessness.  Drinking it like ambrosia.  The sand rose to my armpits.  I tried
pulling my arms out.  The sand was too heavy about them.  I was stuck.  The
sand poured in.  When it had reached my neck, she stopped.  This is as far as
we had gone before.  Twenty inches of pit remained to be filled now.

        My Captress reached down and un-did my gag.  Without another word she
bent down we kissed.  I wanted to hold her so desperately, but the sand held
me down.  When we finished, she wispered in my ear, "Looks like you're getting
in over your head."  She disappeared out of my sight and brought over the
snorkel.  I had practiced with this a few times and was able to breathe through
it for hours at a time while bound in various positions.  She placed it in
my mouth.  It would reach two precious inches above the sand.

        Into the top of the snorkel was placed a small cylinder which contained
a tiny ball of aluminum and two contacts.  When I exhaled through the snorkel,
the ball would lift out from between the two contacts and break a simple circuit
containing a tone generator.  Upon inhaling, the ball would return and the tone
would reappear.  This tone could be heard on a pair of connected portable-radio
headphones.  A circuit was included which added a shriller tone should the
contact *not* be broken for 10 seconds.  My safeword was to hold my breath for
ten seconds.  Thirty seconds later, my head would be free of the sand.  We had
tested the apparatus and my Captress' ability to uncover a foam head buried
eight inches under the sand.  Now I was staking my life on it.  My Captress
gazed back into my eyes.  As best I could, I nodded.  Ever so slowly, I watched
as the sand creeped up my head.  Abbey watching me intently.

        The sand rose above my lips and creeped up the short distance to my
nose.  Then it began rising above my nose.  I tried so hard to struggle.  To
free myself from my iminent incarceration, but the sand held firm.

        When my Captress had buried me to the bridge of my nose, she stopped.
"I wouldn't want to scratch those beautiful, blue eyes of yours."  She bent
down and placed a cotton ball over each eye secured by an eye-patch taped
to my face.  Blind, I felt the sand climb up my face.  I knew the futility of
it, but I struggled anyway, as violently as I could.  Nary a grain of sand
moved.  I felt my forehead become enswathed in yet more sand.  Only the top of
my head remained.  She patted it twice.  I held my breath.

        I counted ten seconds.

        I felt her tousle my hair.  The test worked.  She heard the tones.
I was going under.  I felt the sand finish engulfing me.  I was trapped.
I was where my Captress wanted me; held rigid at every point on my body by
sand.  I was part of the beach. I was floating in sand.