Gromet's Plaza Trashcan Stories
Sacked 2
by S. M. Ackerman
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© Copyright 2010 - S. M. Ackerman - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/f; D/s; bond; chast; electro; toys; wrapped; bagged; garbage; hum; cons; X
jpn
WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life will result in injury or death.

S M Ackerman is the diarist for (The Diary of Miss Whippy Cane) she is a professional dominatrix and the owner of an established house that caters for the fetishistic desires of selected clients, all names have been altered for her clients privacy. The story is available from both Pegusus Publishers and Amazon. This tale is not included in, or an exert from, the above diary and is made available free of charge to all genuine readers over the age of 18 in the UK or as is applicable else where please. Enjoy if you will. S.M.

Sacked Part 2 by S. M. Ackerman F/f; D/s; bond; chast; electro; toys; wrapped; bagged; garbage; hum; cons; X

continued from part one

SACKED 2. (Second Time Around)

Some Basic Background.

Due to the expansion of Madam W.C. business, and the need for more space for specialisations, the B.D.S.M only brothel has been relocated, and a new slave accepted into the household. Mai is the House greeter and Clair is the first voluntary slave (And therefore she believes the senior slave) of the house. For further information on their lives and personas see the above title. See ‘Sacked,’ For previous client encounter.

It has been exactly one month since, Mai, the tall elegant hostess of Madam Whippy Canes brothel had bagged and binned me, at my hesitant request. It had also been the most moist making, sexually overheating, stimulating, month of my entire life.

The fantasy Mai enacted for me has taken hold over me and is driving my sex life into pathways I could never have believed. I am addicted, hooked, and desperate to experiment further.

Mai is expecting me to arrive this Friday evening at six pm, I will be there of course, but a little streak of rebellion is insisting that I arrive slightly late. Just the thought of Mai being kept waiting, perhaps getting annoyed at me, and the thought of the consequences she might extract from my body, is sending my fingers once more exploring beneath my unbuttoned jeans.

With my legs turned to jelly I lay on the floor having slipped off my settee in the paroxysms of orgasm, only four more days to go until I will arrive to accept my fate. Four very long days if the past month is anything to go by.

“You may enter, Follow the road to the left and park in a marked space, then follow the signs marked, Slave Enterance.” The voice emitting from the gate speaker sounded slightly mechanical, but true to its instructions the massive, heavy looking metal gates part to allow me to enter into the grounds. I do as instructed and drive around the house to the left, where I enter an area clearly used as a car park, if I had, had, any doubt that this was the place intended for me to park my car in, the sign over the entry settled them, it said quite clearly, ‘Slave, Car Park.’

Though I do not consider my self to be a slave to anyone, I also have to accept that I, in some ways am, after all, my particular desires require someone to take total control over me, and to exercise that control in specific ways.

A sign on the outer wall says ‘slave parking only’, so I park in a bay marked slave parking and accept that it applies to me. Having got out of the car, and for some unknown reason locked the doors, I turn around to face the house. It seems huge, imposing and quite grand. The drive looks like fresh laid tarmac, in fact everything looks recent and lovingly tended, over all my impression of the new house is positive. Across the drive I spot a single wooden door, above it hangs a sign, it say’s, ‘Slave Entrance’. I am about to hasten over to the door when a strange and unfamiliar sound catches my attention.

A carriage clip clops around the far corner heading towards me, or rather the car parks entry/exit. The carriage is a small light affair with two wheels, and with a woman in full trapping outfit sitting onboard. The horse that should have been pulling the trap is very different from what I might have expected to see elsewhere. It is obviously a male in heavy harness, beneath which he has on a latex suit, which covers him completely, but also moulds perfectly to every nook and cranny of his body.

That he is enjoying the experience of pulling his driver around, is evidently indicated by his shiny black, latex coated and very erect penis, which is clearly poking out in front of him. Almost pointing the way I suppose, as it bobs in time to his strides beautifully.

I cross in front of the trap, and then hesitate facing the door. The lash catches me just under the downwards curve of my buttocks, the sting of burning fire makes me jump forward and snap my head around, I recognise the driver now. It is Mistress Whippy Cane herself, and she is swishing her long whip high over her head, it fly’s forward and with a loud crack, encourages the male to increase his pace. It also encourages me to stride purposefully towards the door, rubbing at my rump as I close.

The door swings inwards as I approach, revealing a black, rather unappealing corridor, slightly hesitant, I glanced at my watch, I am six minutes late. Shit, I had thought about being a minute or two at most late, but six, that’s a bloody long time to keep a Mistress waiting for a pathetic subservient, a bloody long time indeed.

I stepped through the door, my attention focused on the floor so as not to trip, when my world turns upside down.

“Don’t move slave!”

The voice comes from slightly behind me and whispers into my ear, there is no threatening tone, just a clear instruction, it is a voice I do not recognise either. Hands reach over my head stretching a leather strap out straight before pulling the ball fitted to the strap towards my mouth, (which I open). The ball is pulled sharply back forcing my jaws slightly further open that they would normal go, before closing to trap the ball behind my teeth. The strap pulls tight and is locked, I am effectively silenced.

The arms that accompany the voice now pulled a bag or sack over my head, and are now sliding it down my body. I drop my arms to my side, not moving, not resisting, just waiting to see or I should say hear, what I must do next. Once the bag is pulled down completely to my waist, I feel a strap flick around my arms at elbow height and pull tight, very tight.

Whoever is binding me does not intend that I have much opportunity to escape. Shortly a second strap is affixed at waist level, then my hands are pulled back and locked together, with the distinctive feel of cold metal and the ratcheting sound only handcuffs make.

The woman, I know my capturer to be female now as I have felt the sharp but clearly shaped outline of female finger nails, and her voice sounds too soft I realise (once I start thinking clearly), to be male.

She glides her hands down over my hips and on down to my ankles, I feel her knees touching my claves and the ratcheting returns, as leg cuffs are fitted to each ankle, The hands vanish as she stands up behind me.

“There’s a good little slut, all nice and secure for now.”

The woman walks around me slowly, if I had had any doubts about my guess to her sexuality, they would have vanished right then as her heels click against the hard floor of the passageway. Standing still with a female dominant before me is very stimulating, and considering how aroused I already am, the effect is multiplied. I try to squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to apply direct pressure to my sex, all I get for the effort is a sharp slap to my thigh, and an instruction to ‘stand still slut!’ The voice bucks no argument, I stand still, or as still as I can.

Her hands fit something around my neck, then with a single click she secures it, a collar I presume, I am not wrong, as next she affixes a lead, and then with a click clack of heels she turns around, I feel the slight pull to my collar before I hear her instruction to walk.

Not knowing the nature of my ankle restraints I ease my left foot forward, a chain grates across the floor, my feet part by about ten inches, I will be taking short, almost mincing, steps forward, and having to trust the Mistress who holds my lead to guide me safely.

Earlier That Morning.

Mai sat behind her desk as Madam Whippy Cane entered her office, and flopped into the vacant chair looking nothing like the strict dominatrix the clients saw.

“Well, you called!”

Mai smiled at her friend and employer before saying.

“I have a visitor today.”

“You said, and?”

“She will arrive at six, I am sort of hoping that you will help me in a little introduction of sorts.”

Madam sat forward slightly, Mai wanted something, she had a plan of some sort, and any plan that dear sweet Mai came up with might just be quite stimulating, she waited, eager but controlled.

Mai reminded Madam of who her client is and exactly what she desires.

“So Julie Smyth is returning, you said she would if I remember correctly.”

“After her experience in the bin at the old house, and with her obvious satisfaction with what happened to her I expected her to return. I am only surprised that it has taken a whole month, but she will be here tonight and I have a surprise, or rather a series of surprises for her this time.”

“I take it that the maggot constructed exactly what you need?”

Mai smiled at the mention of their builder/client and his work.

“He did a very nice job on the chute and I tested it fully this morning, it works perfectly.”

“You tested it!”

“No of course not me, I mean I got Clair to do the physical bit, but it’s the same thing.”

“Clair, I bet she didn’t like that much, she hates being filthy!”

“At that point it was still dry, once I was certain it worked perfectly I set her and Peter to filling it up, and placing the bin-bags etc inside of the container, it looks brilliant, and smells disgusting, Julie is going to love this experience, I just know it.”

Madam smiled and stood up to leave, at the door she half turned and with a glee echoing in her voice said “Give the bitch the hell she deserves, and have my carriage made ready before she arrives.” Then she was gone.

Mai watched as her office door slowly closed, she thought about her plans for Miss Julie Smyth and smiled again. This is my client she thought, and as such I intend that my client should get exactly what she needs, not necessarily wants!

Madam Whippy Cane was very right in her belief that Mai had a very wicked streak running through her and today it would be perfectly demonstrated.

Mai’s buzzer rang, indicating that Julie had arrived at the main gate asking for admittance. A push on the sender fitted to her desk did a number of things. One, it opened the outer gate but more importantly to Mai, it signalled to Clair and Paul to attend as the culprit has arrived.

It was slave Clair that bound and sacked Julie as she entered the corridor, it was slave Clair that secured and led the helpless Julie through the passage, and eventually into the room in which Mai was waiting for her. It was slave Clair that forced the hapless culprit to her knees, and then stood back to allow Mai to take over.

I feel the hard stone of a cold floor against my knees; I can hear breathing behind me, people moving slightly, I know that I am in the presence of at least three people, assuming that the woman that has brought me here has remained. Male hands grasp my shoulders, heels click before me as someone new enters my arena of fear. Mai I hope, but right then it could have been anyone.

“I thought I said 6 pm slut, not six minutes past!” hissed a woman’s voice.

I hung my head in acceptance, I am quite surprised by the feeling of venom carried in the voice of the woman I now recognise as Mai, her tone to me sounds scary. Venom and anger flood throughout her words, fear rises to fill my belly, even my arousal declines slightly as her words pound at me. I am in trouble, I have gone too far, if only that damn carriage hadn’t interrupted me on my arrival, I would have only been a couple, or three at worst minutes late, not the six I now am.

“Bind her, she will learn that I will not tolerate my instructions being ignored!”

Male hands pull me up to my feet, spin me around, and push me forward. Straps unwind from around my waist just long enough to allow the sack is pulled up to my neck before being resecured, my hands are un-cuffed, separated and stretched out to either side of me. I hear the snap of metal followed by the ratcheting of a second handcuff; both now grip my wrists tightly. The man has one arm and the woman who has not left, grabs my other, Mai I can hear behind me. The cuffs they lock to a bar of some sort, shortly the bar lifts, raising my arms high, pulling me upwards.

My toes were now the only thing I have touching the floor. A finger clicks behind me, a signal for something, I soon found out what. My nice plain white blouse rips, cold steel touches the base of my spine, then tracks it to my neck, scissors I realise, they are cutting my blouse of my back. Female hands unbutton my skirt dropping it to the floor, strong female hands lift each of my feet from the floor until my skirt has been removed. I have on only panties and hold-up stockings, and a flimsy bra, that to is soon cut off and removed.

My breasts contact the cold wall before me, my nipples react instantly, hardening and poking forward, eager to display themselves and also to betray my inner emotions. Fear of what is to happen to me reigns, this is not the treatment I expect nor anything like I expressed to Mistress Mai when we discussed my needs, or remotely like the treatment she gave to me on my previous visit to her old premises.

“Comfortable?”

Not a chance I think, but then I am not in the position to answer her question, and she knows it, the sadistic bitch…

“Now let me see slave, you disobey my instructions, you turn up late, very late, and you seem to expect to be treated as you would like, not as you clearly deserve! I think that just about sums up your situation, now of course I need to decide exactly what I am going to do with you.”

I hear her fingers click once, if I could see behind me I expect I would see her pointing at me, indicating for someone else to do something unspeakable to me.

Fingers lightly trail between my thighs; a female thumb pushes against my anus forcing my thin cotton panties inside of my hole. The remaining fingers sneak beneath my knicker elastic and graze against my soaking sex lips, teasing me to perfection. I groan into the ball gag Clair had fitted earlier, unable to contain myself or resist.

“Soaking Madam, dripping wet and clearly eager no matter what she might indicate otherwise.”

“Six minutes slut, six long minutes you kept me waiting, now you will feel that length of time for yourself”. The leather tails of the strap she used bit deep into my bottom, twin flexible tails lash at my flesh, I scream at the raging fire she is creating across my skin, but this is just the beginning. Thirty seconds later, and every thirty seconds from there on, the strap thrashes my quivering flesh for six long agonising minutes. Only twelve strokes I tell myself, just twelve, but each burns, each electrifies my nerve endings, each drives home Mistress Mai’s message, never slut, keep me waiting again!

“That will do lower her, it is time for the real discipline to begin.”

I feel the cuffs removed, my feet fall to the floor giving me back my stability, and then my hands are pulled behind my back and cuffed again.

“You will remember this, won’t you?” Asks Mai, but first the scissors return and my knickers are cut from me.

I remember it all right, it is the chastity belt, the wicked electric vibrator fitted chastity belt, the same one that she locked me in last time, prior to bagging and disposing of me as rubbish. The belt is pulled up my thighs its strap flicks around and above my hips, the points of twin vibrators poked intrusively now at my holes, the front being so well lubricated allows the bigger to enter into my sex, the rear needs a palm placed on the outside of the chastity belt and pressure applying upwards to force it to enter my tight anus. The belt despite my foolish attempts to fight its entry is fitted and snapped shut. Plugging me, now I stand and wait, fear mixing with excitement, now I am going to get exactly what I desire, and came here to receive. How it will be inflicted I don’t know, but I know it will be done fully, and if it is half as good as last time I will be tossing myself of for another month at least, on the fantasy Mai creates for me.

The sack over my head is removed, for the first time I can see where I am, not that there is much of interest to see. Mai is in front of me, a woman dressed in latex is beside me, and a male is to my other side, also covered from head to toe in latex. They are the slaves of the house that much I know.

The room is small, square and boringly empty. Set into the far wall is a large metal hatch fitted with clamp locks to keep it closed. A rough wood table has been placed against the far wall, but in easy reach, and it is to this table that Mistress Mai turns. She picks up a tube, then she turns to face me and hands the roll of clear plastic, much like cling-film to Clair. Who takes it from her, and without hesitation let’s go of my arm, she crouches down and taps my ankles until I put them together. She begins to wrap my feet, then moves up my legs, passing my knees, wrapping all the way up to my hips. Even covering the metal chastity belt.

Clair stands up and the wrap creeps higher, swathing my naked breasts and slightly compressing my erect nipples, right up to my neck line. I hope she doesn’t cover my face; the thought of plastic wrap over my face terrifies me, and is dangerous. She stops at my neck and then hands back the roll to Mistress Mai, taking a length of rope in replacement. This she secures around my ankles, quite tightly. I can feel its bite through the plastic wrap, but it isn’t tight enough to cut my circulation, and the wrap stops direct skin chaffing.

“Sit slut!” Mistress Mai demands.

I try to lower my bound self to the floor and fail, if the male wasn’t holding me tight I would collapse, as it is he lowers me to the ground pushing me onto my side and my binding continues. My arms are pulled back and down towards my now bent back legs and secured. More rope is added wrapping me up tighter than I have ever been bound. My hips thrust forward with the pull, forcing the dildo’s to penetrate slightly deeper. I experiment with rocking slightly, trying to bring myself off with a much demanded orgasm, all I get for my effort is my face slapped by Mistress Mai.

“We will have none of that slut!” She exclaims.

That’s what she thinks I decide, but not now, but later who knows!

The bin-bag Mistress Mai holds in her hand is huge; she lets it unravel to the floor. It is not a bin-bag as such, it is a wheely-bin bag, and that will easily swallow up my slight frame and with space to spare, as I am soon to find out.

Her, Mistress Mai’s, fingers click again, and before I realise what is about to happen to me I find myself bundled feet first into the plastic sack. The two slaves force me inside, trapping me still further. A metal collar appears in Mistresses hands, she passes it without apparent care to Clair, who buckles it around my neck.

From four points around the collar steel rings protrude, and I can’t help but wonder, (despite my predicament) exactly what they are for. I soon find out as Clair threads the tie handles of the sack through the metal rings, securing the black plastic around my throat. The odd thing is that the bag is so loose that it gapes open in a number of places. Which considering how securely bound I am, seems very odd to me.

“Very nice, in fact perfect don’t you think?”

Two voices one male, the other female agree with Mistress Mai’s assessment of my predicament, so do I, but of course I can’t say a damn thing as I am still chewing on the ball gag Clair fitted into my mouth on my arrival.

“Fetch the table please Peter. Clair, I think it is time our dirty little guest had her sight taken away again.”

Clair picks up something that for the second or two I see it looks like a pair of swimmers goggles, but with extra straps. The goggles fit close to my eyes, as the straps are adjusted they compress even tighter. A second strap passes over my head and under my chin rejoining the first, then I hear the distinctive click of a padlock closing. I open my eyes to be greeted by total blackness. I am blindfolded as well as protected from things getting into my eyes. Thoughtful and efficient, just what I expect of Mistress Mai.

MY WORLD TURNS DISGUSTING.

The slaves place me onto a low metal platform and then wheel me across the room. Blind I rely on my ears, and they carry a distinctive grating metal on metal sound to my restricted world. The trolley I am lying on stops moving forward with a slight bump, then it rose in a jerky stop start way, lifting me higher.

‘The hatch,’ screamed in my thoughts, the hatch echoes through my mind, where have I seen a hatch like that one before? I try desperately to remember.

“Well my disgusting little slut, you wanted to be treated like nothing more than garbage, to be bagged up and disposed of, you begged ‘please dump me as though I am worthless.’ You are worthless to me now, so that is exactly what I intend to do with you, you will join the rest of our rubbish and be disposed of in exactly the same way as it is.”

Hands pushed me feet first from the trolley; once I pass the halfway point gravity takes away the effort for the slaves, as I slide, slowly at first, into the tube behind the steel door. I picked up speed and then whoosh downwards, sliding inside of the garbage chute. Mai is serious I think, she is dumping me, and that is the point at which I have a mental picture of where I have seen a metal door, very much like the one through which I have just been pushed.

I had visited the public dump, to one side they had a metal door set into a chimney, all burnable waste went into this door, and was then reduced to ash. O’ my God! The door, it’s a furnace door, and Mistress Mai has, (because I am useless) decided to dispose of me once and for all.

I leave the end of the tube down which I have been sliding, flying out and through the air for a couple of feet, before splatting into other bagged up, and equally disposed of rubbish, then, falling down slightly, I settle amongst the garbage, to wait for the first licks of flame that will signify an imminent end to my life as ‘waste’.

The clang echoes around the container as the metal door is slammed shut somewhere up above me. I try to scream, to beg for mercy, but the gag works effectively, and the only sound I can make would not attract a soul, even if they were listening and near to me, and Mistress Mai is neither.

Electricity sparked to life within my chastity belt, the shock makes me sit up in pain, the wet sticky mass of goo that sprays into my container and all over me comes as quite a shock. Liquid slops coat my hair, my face, some even finding its way inside of my sack, coating my bound body in slimy, sludgy, yuk. The flow lasts only a few seconds, but then the twin vibrators roared into life. This position I have been in before, Mistress Mai has previously fitted this special chastity device to me previously, but locked in a metal container, waiting for a fiery death, bound, gagged, blindfolded (of sorts) and totally helpless, and at the merest whim of the Chinese bitch Mai, I want to weep. I wanted to wail out my fear, but mostly I want to be anywhere else.

Despite my wants, the vibrators vibrated, and my sex responds, I damn near come, but then the bloody things switch off, leaving me as frustrated as I have ever been. Now all I desperately want is for them to turn back on again, and bring me off, no such bloody luck. I try wiggling, grinding my hips, desperate for any sensation, but that effort ends the second the electricity pulses across my sex lips. I scream again in agony, my need for an orgasm suspended and overruled by my need for the pain to stop, thankfully it did shortly.

Above me something moves, fresh air fills the space I am in, then bags fall on top of me. I squirmed trying to get whoever is filling this containers attention. I sit up as best I can, as more bags add to my confinement, then the lid closes again, slammed down or dropped it did not matter, the effect on me is the same. The noise shatters the silence, it feels like being pummelled.

All around me bags squelch and slip, some like me coated in the slime from earlier; others dry and crisp sounding as they move. My belt flashes to life, the electricity flairs and pulses across my sex, then more liquid falls, this time it seems thicker, more clumpy and sticky, very sticky. The vibrators return and thankfully stayed on just long enough for me to reach an explosive orgasm. Gag or no gag, I believe that anyone near by should hear my ecstasy as I come, then come again, then everything stops and silence returns to my horribly, slimy, pit of despair.

Mistress Mai watched the camera monitor showing her captive, and once she was certain that she had orgasmed she switched off the vibrators and flashed her captive’s sex with electricity.

An outside camera showed Mistress Whippy Cane returning from her carriage drive, now being pulled Mai noticed, by a very exhausted looking, latex covered slave pony, who still has an erection amazingly!

Mai watches as the carriage turns into the yard prior to returning to the stables, it rounds the house and stops next to the metal container in which the Madam knows that Julie Smyth is contained. She reaches out with her long whip and bangs against the top of the metal box, adding her own slight touch of sadism.

Mai could not help but smile as the internal camera show Julie jump and twitch at the impact of the whip. A few hours of being kept in there will do the girl some good, and a few more orgasms will satisfy her desires perfectly. Soon Julie will be just another happy contented client, eager to return to suffer at my hands again thought Mistress Mai, for now though she can wait, not forgotten exactly, more ignored…

The End.

I hope you enjoyed reading this story, if you liked the characters and would like to know what happened to and how their lives changed after their play time is over then read  ‘What A Thrill’, to be found in the bound sector of Gromet’s Plaza.  Enjoy S M Ackerman.

You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum

02.02.10

continued in part three

o0o

The Diary of Miss Whippy Cane is available at both:

Pegusus Publishers

and Amazon

If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
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