Recycled

Recycled - Part One

I met my girlfriend Lisa some five years ago.  We both worked at a local supermarket in Brooklyn, she being a cashier while I was a stock clerk.  We hit it off pretty well, friendly like at first; taking lunch and breaks together, riding the same train going home, that sort of thing.  It took a couple years before we actually became a couple though, and that only happened through a queer twist of fate.

I have always been into some of the kinkier ways of sex.  I enjoy bondage and foot worship and Femdom mostly, but also a few variants on those staples, if you can call such things a staple.  I was never so hardcore that I wanted to be a life slave or anything like that, but was interested in a bit of fun now and then.  Lisa, I found out quite by accident, had a streak of the kinkiness in her as well.

It was winter in New York, and anyone living in the Five Boroughs knows what that can be like.  The day we learned that we had similar tastes beyond straight sex, there was some sixteen inches of snow piled up on the ground and a bitter, whipping wind blowing down out of Canada.  It was like twenty degrees out – minus the wind chill factor that made it seem like five, and everyone was bundled up against the cold, Lisa and myself included.

I was standing at the coffee machine, trying to warm up with a cup a’ Joe when Lisa strolled in, ready for work.  Looking at her took my breath away that day, and I knew then and there that we had to be together.  Her relatively thin and petite body was padded with layers against the biting cold.  She had her hair wrapped up into a bun covered in a knit cap, and a matching red scarf wrapped about her smooth, lower face so that only her dazzling blue eyes were visible.  She was wearing a long, black, woolen coat over a hoody with the scarf tucked down into the folds.  I saw blue jeans poking from beneath the coat’s tails, but what caught my eye was the pair of boots she was wearing.  They were black leather, rising to her knees with flat soles (a look I loved), and lined with buckles and straps from her ankles right to the top.  They looked well worn and even from a distance I could see the traces of snow-salt and water stains lingering about the toes and soles of the boots.  Staring at those boots, I realized that I was in love – or at least in lust.

I stared as Lisa headed over along the rows of cash registers, stopping finally right near me as she started to undress, peeling away the layers of clothing that seemed to add the look of some thirty pounds to her slim body.  She smiled at me, tossing her over-sized leather purse onto the empty register and started to unbutton her coat.  I was staring at her feet…

“Kenny?”

I blinked, looking up as the trance I was in was broken by the sweet sound of her voice.  She was grinning, looking down to see what I was staring at.

“Good morning,” she said, pulling off her hat and shaking her shoulder length blonde hair into place.  She was wearing large silver hoop earrings I saw, and they sparkled in the light.  “You okay?”

“Good morning,” I said, my voice catching as I tried not to look down again.  She was still smiling at me as she slipped out of her long coat, leaving her dark hoody on against the chill in the store that morning.  “I’m okay.  You… You look great.  Love the boots.”

Lisa grinned, cocking a leg out on her heel and shifting the foot left and right.  “These old things?” she asked coyly, striking a sexy pose that immediately got me hard.  “I’ve had ‘em for a couple years now.  They’re so old but I usually only wear ‘em in winter.  They’re kinda’ smelly too.”

I sniffed, an involuntary action, but didn’t smell a thing.

“Well, I like ‘em.  Sexy as hell.”

Lisa smiled widely and leaned in close.  “You think?  They’d look even better cleaned up.  Maybe you can help me with that, later.”

Her soft, cold leather gloved hand traced down my arm setting it a tingle.  I moaned and she giggled, finally walking away and leaving me wanting as she went upstairs to the office to get a till for work.  Needless to say, it was a loooong day.

We had fantastic sex that night, that first night that we got together.  There was some foreplay of course, involving her boots.

We went to my apartment, as it was closer both to the job and the trains.  We talked for awhile, drinking beer and watching television side by side on my couch.  It took me awhile (and a few beers), but I finally confessed that I had a thing for shoes, boots and feet.  She in turn said that she enjoyed having her feet massaged, and even licked on occasion, and I wondered who had had that honor before me.  I got bolder and told her that I liked to be tied up on occasion, and she said that she got off on the feeling of power that she got at having someone – ‘A big, strong man’ – at her mercy.  I told her I liked dominant women, and she ordered me onto my knees.

I spent most of that first night on my knees and belly, eventually naked at her feet as I licked the rock salt and filth from her cool leather boots.  It tasted nasty, the salt bitter and acidy, but I attacked her boots with a relish that I had not experienced in some time.  I really liked Lisa, even without the kink, but knowing that she was a dominant made it all the better.

She kept me there for hours that night, worshipping her sexy boots.  The taste and texture of the soft, worn leather kept me hard throughout and I had no complaints.  For her part, Lisa simply continued to watch TV, ordering me to get more beer or light her cigarettes when needed.  She would sit there like a queen, crossing and recrossing her legs and forcing me to the floor, struggling to lick her fantastic boots clean.

She had me strip at one point, and then not too long after she tied my hands behind me, and my ankles and forced me to kneel and be her footstool while she watched a movie on cable.  She rested her feet on my back for almost two hours, recrossing her ankles and occasionally grinding her heels into my bare flesh, enjoying my whimpering at her rough treatment.

When the movie ended, Lisa pulled her feet away and ordered me to remove her boots.  She planted her feet side by side right before me, and I knelt there wondering just how I was supposed to accomplish that feat with my hands tied behind my back.  Finally I simply leaned in and started working at the many buckles that lined her biker-like boots with my teeth.

It took some time, but I finally found a rhythm and managed to loosen the buckles, easing the straps from the brass couplings.  When all the buckles were open, I stretched the material from her legs and opened them as much as possible.  I had gone as far as I could.

“Bend low, slave,” she said with a giggle, and as I put my head to the hardwood floor I felt the heel of her boot on the back of my head.  She shifted her leg and started to pull, forcing the boot off of her foot, using my head as a shoehorn of sorts.  I winced as she dug in, but finally heard the soft ‘shush’ as her sweaty socked heel slid from the boot.

The biker boot hit the floor with a ‘thunk’ and I immediately smelled the odors that had been trapped within the leather.  There was the smell of sweat and leather, and old unwashed socks as Lisa wiggled her toes before my face.  She planted her socked foot to the floor, ordering me to kiss and lick as she worked the other boot off in a similar fashion.  It seemed to take a long time…

All through that night she kept me naked and bound and at her feet.  We talked as I worshipped her sexy feet; sucking on her socks and then, finally kissing, licking and massaging her soft, sweaty feet.  They smelled of leather and powder, but it was not too bad.  I was in heaven and hard as hell and the sex later made her scream when I was finally allowed release.

Now, five years later after we met and we are living together.  We have fun, but we don’t have the usual Femdom/slave relationship that you read about on the Internet.  Neither of us wants that.  We enjoy the spontaneous fun of our Mistress/slave relationship, when we BOTH want it.  Granted, I kiss her luscious feet whenever she comes home, and I thank whatever god is out there for bringing her into my life, but Lisa wants a partner, not a slave, and I really can’t be a 24/7 slave for her, as there are bills to pay.  We do have fun experimenting though…

Lisa has had me tied up in a hog-tie for the better part of many a Holiday weekend.  Bound and gagged, I was hard as hell throughout while she walked around free, teasing me throughout.  That is the biggest turn-on for me, knowing that I am totally helpless and in her hands until she decides to let me go.  She loves it too, that feeling of power and freedom, watching me squirm at her feet while she simply watches TV, eats dinner, or just relaxes using my prone body as a footstool.

I’ve been kept naked for two weeks, when I was on vacation, doing ALL the work around the apartment; the cooking and cleaning, the laundry, and of course waiting on her hand and foot throughout.

I have been made to lick all of her shoes clean on many weekends.  Not as easy as it sounds as she has dozens of pairs.

It was recently though that we tried something new to the both of us…

I had found stories on the Net of a fetish that I had heard of; Bagging, Trashed, Recycling, Dumpster Diving.  Basically it was people that enjoyed being tied up in garbage bags and treated as trash, sometimes being tossed into dumpsters or set out on the curb for morning pick up.  I had never tried it, but the stories and pictures that I read and saw excited the hell out of me.  I could only imagine gasping for breath, helpless in a plastic bag and waiting for the NYSD to toss me away in one of their huge white garbage trucks.

Now Lisa and I had tried a few things that were off the wall.  I had been whipped and spanked.  I drank her piss a few times.  I’ve even let her duke me up my virgin ass with a huge, black strap-on.  But even to me, being bound up in a garbage bag sounded a bit bizarre.  I knew Lisa loved me though, and was willing to try new and different things, so…

“You want what?” she asked incredulously.

Lisa blinked as she scrolled through the story links on our Desktop computer.  I could see that she was surprised and apparently had never heard of the fetish before.  I watched silently as she scanned several of the stories that I liked and had pointed out to her.  Finally, after almost an hour she sighed and leaned back in the chair, crossing her denim clad legs and slapping the rubber sole of her flip-flop against the bottom of her foot.  A sound that she knew got me horny as hell.

“You want to be tied up, gagged and put in a garbage bag…”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied, hanging my head and assuming my submissive role, hoping that would help.

Lisa smirked at that and pointed to the floor.  I dropped to the floor at her feet and immediately started to lick and kiss her toes.  They were dusty and smelled just a bit as she had been wearing her flip-flops mostly the past, warm week.

“Well, you topped me.”  Lisa laughed, shoving her toes into my mouth for me to suck.  They smelled a bit of rubber and sweat, but not too bad, as I enclosed my mouth about her soft and dainty foot.  “I’ve never heard of this.  Seems harmless enough though.  I’m a little worried about you breathing, but I just poke holes in the bag for that I guess.”

Lisa rammed her foot forward, gagging me and making me fall to the side as I choked, gasping for air.  She looked down on me with a wicked grin.

“Okay,” she purred, wiggling her toes in my mouth.  “We’ll give it a shot.”  Her eyes sparkled as she looked down on me, and I could see the wheels turning.  I licked all the harder.

It was another week before I got my wish and we tried the new kink.  We both had the weekend off, or most of it as she had to work the morning shift that Saturday.  For my part, I got the extra supplies that we would need.

I bought some heavy-duty trash bags from the hardware store nearby; 55 gallon and double strength.  I also got some of the clear and huge heavy bags from work that we use to line the recycle machines.  They were 55 gallon as well, and thick to hold the crushed plastic as it came from the machines that crushed up the returnable plastic bottles and cans.

Part of my fetish was to know and see Lisa moving about the apartment in freedom while I was trapped and helpless, be it hog-tied on the floor or locked in the closet or whatever bondage she might come up with.  It was my idea that I be bound hand and foot and then some, then placed in one of the clear bags so that I could see her walking about while I was trapped and helpless.  Lisa liked that idea too.

I spent that morning while she was at work cleaning the apartment, doing all of our laundry and finally making her lunch.  I wanted nothing to distract the fun that I was envisioning, and wanted Lisa focused on me, as I was focused on her.  I scrambled about our one bedroom apartment totally naked, doing my chores and imagining that she had ordered me to do them and was watching me as I did.  I got dressed only to do the laundry, and then only for a few minutes when I had to go outside and down the street to the Laundromat.

I cooked several of her favorite dishes and had them waiting; Broccoli Rabi and a few vegetable sides, garlic bread, the works.  I stocked the fridge with beer – her favorite, not mine – and finally was waiting naked on my hands and knees by the door when she came home.

I leaned in to kiss the toecaps of her dirty black Nikes as soon as she entered, but she kicked me away, slamming me in the head.  I knew that something was wrong…

“I was $20 short,” she said, tossing her purse to the side and strolling past me in a huff.  I shut the door, locking it, then turned to see what was the problem.

“Fuckin’ Mike suspended me.”

I asked her what had happened as she got a beer from the fridge and opened it.  I crawled forward, kneeling on my heels as she explained that her till had been short and I knew that policy demanded a one-day suspension.  That was to deter those cashiers that figured a sawbuck would not be missed, but the money would be definitely missed from the check come payday.  I tried to explain that it was policy, but she simply lit a cigarette and gave me a dirty look.

“You still wanna do this?” she asked, folding her arms beneath her breasts.  She was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, her hair pulled back in a tail.  I nodded, my heart melting at the sight of her; angry and defiant, and definitely dominant.

“Yes…”

She stared at me for a moment, taking a drink and a drag, then shifted her feet.  “I’m not in a good mood.  You might not enjoy this as much as you think.”

“Please…” I begged.  Lisa just looked at me and sipped her beer for a moment.  Finally she took a last drag on her cigarette and tossed it to the tiled kitchen floor in front of me.  I watched as she stepped on the smoldering butt, twisting her foot from side to side.  When she finished she eased her foot back onto the heel.  I saw the butt stuck to the sole of her shoe.

“Eat it,” she ordered, and I leaned in, licking, then biting at the crumpled butt.  She almost laughed as I swallowed, then she ordered me to lick her shoes clean.

Her shoes were filthy.  I smelled the worn leather as I eased forward, tentatively extending my tongue.  After a moment I smelled the contained odors of her feet; the sweat and baby powder, the crusty socks that she had worn all week in anticipation of today’s fun.  It was nasty, but I loved it – I loved her, and there was nothing that I would not do to make her happy.

She kept me there for some time, kneeling on the greasy, broken tiles of the kitchen, letting me maneuver about to get every last bit of grit and grime off of her tennis shoes.  She ordered me to wait at one point as she got a new beer, but otherwise I knelt there for her pleasure for almost an hour as she finally leaned back against the countertop, then eased up onto it allowing me access to the filthy soles of her shoes

“Okay,” she said at last, planting the rubber sole of her shoe against my forehead and shoving me back.  “time for some real fun.  Stay!”

I knelt there on the floor as she eased back off of the countertop and strolled into the adjoining room.  I heard her open drawers in the computer desk, and when she returned I grew hard to see that she had our collected bondage gear in hand; duct tape, scarves, nylon rope, etc.  She tossed the gear onto the counter and stepped right before me.

“Beg for it,” she ordered and I leaned in again.  I kissed her toecaps as I pleaded with her to tie me up and make my dreams reality.  She let me suffer through another cigarette before she finally placed a foot on the back of my head and pushed, forcing it to the floor.

Lisa straddled me, and in a moment I felt her hands drawing my arms roughly back.  I winced and whimpered as she looped the nylon rope about my wrists and cinched it tight.  I moaned as she wrapped the cord round and round, eventually running it to my ankles and forcing me fully to the floor.  She hog-tied me effectively and more tightly than ever before.  I assumed that she was still pissed at the day’s events.

With my wrists and ankles bound, and to each other, Lisa returned to our gear.  I wriggled about a bit, trying to get free as was expected, though not really wanting to.  She had done her job well though.  I was locked in and trapped.  I looked up as she stood before my face, and I had never seen her so cruel, or looking so beautiful.

She squatted down and grabbed a handful of hair.  I yelped as she yanked my head back, and as my mouth opened she stuffed a wadded up scarf into my waiting mouth.  I heard the ‘rrrriiipppp’ of the duct tape then as she pulled a strip loose and started wrapping my head and mouth, five turns in the end.  I could not utter a sound as she ripped the roll free, patted my face and stood.

“You like that?” she asked and I heard the sound of a match striking as she leaned back against the counter and puffed a cigarette to life.  She just watched me writhe for a bit as she crossed her ankles and enjoyed her cigarette.  I fought against my bonds as expected but got nowhere.  In the end I started breathing hard and simply stared at her shoes as I gathered my strength, trying not to explode.  Lisa tossed the spent butt to the floor right in front of my face and twisted it out beneath her toe.

“Your fun’s over, bitch,” she said as she stepped past me.  My muffled moans fell on deaf ears as I tried to look back and see what she was doing, where she was going.  I heard a loud ‘shlumph’ and as I craned my neck I saw Lisa returning, airing out one of the huge recycle bags that I had taken from work.

Lisa crouched down beside me, holding the open bag at my side.  Grunting then, as she was smaller than me and I was in an awkward position, she started to roll me about, trying to maneuver me into the waiting, open plastic bag.  Of course I helped as much as I was able, which was nil.

With much effort, Lisa eased the clear plastic bag over me, folding it, then started tugging until I complied by rolling deeper into the recycle bag’s confines.  It took a bit of maneuvering on both our parts, but eventually my bound body was lying awkwardly at the bottom seam of the bag.  Lisa jabbed me repeatedly in the ribs with the toe of her shoe until I rocked onto my side and into the position that she wanted.

With a huge grunt of strain, Lisa heaved on the edge of the bag and shifted me even further into the bag’s butt.  I settled as she jerked the sides up, hefting me about with more strength than I would have ever given her credit for.  Finally though her efforts ceased and I looked up only to find her leering down at me through the opening.

“You having fun yet, sweetie?” she asked grinning widely.  I was relieved that some of the tension from work had left her face and she was starting to get into the fun we were about to have.  “I know I am.  I have’ta admit, we do some shit, but when you said you wanted to try this, I thought you finally went too far.  It’s cool though.”  Lisa’s grin grew and she bit her lower lip, looking down at me as I struggled for her amusement.  “I can’t believe how sexy you look in there.”

Lisa laughed at me as I squirmed about again.  I was already starting to sweat in the slick, cloistered plastic.  She made matters worse as she eased her legs up against the bag, rubbing and pressing against me.  I moaned and whimpered for release, but of course neither of us really wanted that.

“Any last words?” she asked as she got a firm grip on the edges of the bag.

I looked up plaintively and whined into my gag.  I had gotten quite good at that over the years, and it brought a chuckle from her.

“Mmmmnnn…”

“Well, if you suffocate from this, I’ll have that carved on your tombstone.”

Lisa giggled and gathered the bag at the top, then began twisting it into a tail.  I looked up, seeing her shadowy form as her hands worked at the mouth of the bag, sealing it closed.  I immediately felt the closed feeling within the clear bag.  I was already breathing hard, but tried to subdue my breaths, trying to conserve oxygen, hoping that she would not forget to poke a hole or two into my plastic prison.

I heard a ‘ZIIIIIIP’ as Lisa attached a Zip Tie to the twisted opening, cutting off all air and escape.  I sensed her step away then, just a bit, until the toe of her shoe butted up against my ass.  A moment later I felt her hands beyond the plastic as she caressed me, savoring the new experience.

Then, just as suddenly she stepped away.

“Have fun,” she said and I saw her blurry form as she strode out of the kitchen.  I started moaning and whining into the gag for her to come back, as she had forgotten to poke a hole into the bag for me to breathe through.  I screamed, struggling uselessly against my bonds, and in my panic breathing all the deeper.  I had to calm down or my air would quickly disappear.

How long?

I could not believe that she was doing this on purpose.  Too cruel!  It was just a joke – had to be…

I was gasping when I saw her silhouette pass the bag and I moaned again.  She ignored me, tinkering about in the kitchen, at the stove and refrigerator.  She was gathering the lunch that I had prepared.  After a bit she strolled past me again, disappearing with distance into the other room.

I heard the television click on.  I continued to squirm.

My blurred sight was darkening about the edges, like I was looking down a long tunnel.  Little gray flecks were floating through my vision as I continued to writhe, trying to escape.  I could barely keep my eyes open.  The bag was pressed to my skin as I sucked at the last of the air, my body perspiring, my senses dulling.  She was killing me, and I could not imagine why.  What had I done?

***

I blinked, my eyes focusing on the dot of orange wavering before my face.  I gasped for air again, sucking in the acrid smell of cigarette smoke, gagging and coughing to the accompanying sound of Lisa’s soft laughter.  My first fresh breaths were bitter and thick, but I savored them like a fine wine.  Nothing ever tasted so sweet.

As I breathed back to life and consciousness I watched as Lisa’s slim fingers slipped through the hole in the plastic that she had burned with her cigarette.  I stared at her shining, red-painted nails as she pulled, ripping the hole wider so that I might breathe again.  I did, and finally satisfied she withdrew, her hands drifting away and blurring with her shadowy form that hovered over me.

“Having fun?” she asked and I felt the toe of her shoe slip up against the bag, pressing onto my raging hard on.  Fun?  I don’t know that I would call it that exactly, fully, but it was exciting the hell out of me for sure.

Lisa pressed down as I whimpered under the pressure, finally screaming into my gag.  It seemed like she was putting her whole weight into the casual effort, and kept pressing, actually grinding her toe on my penis.  I was crying when she finally eased off, laughing.

“I sure am.  I’ve been sneaking glances, watching you wiggling and Gawd it’s getting me hot.”  I saw her blurry form squat down beside me, then felt her hand as she rubbed it lightly over the plastic.  “This is so cool…”  Her fingers were scratching at my nipples as she giggled, playing with my helpless body.  She started to pinch me, making me twist and squirm all the harder.

Finally she stopped and stood up.  “You okay?” she asked, and I noted the seriousness in her voice.  I grunted, nodding my head and hearing the plastic rattle.

“Okay.  You know the signals.”  And with that she patted my head and walked away again.

Lisa ignored me for a long while after that.  At some point she brought her dirty dishes back into the kitchen, dropping them into the sink before returning to the Living Room.  I heard the volume on the television rise.  Later, I heard her talking, but not to me.  I figured that she must be on the phone…

For my part I enjoyed my helpless captivity.  I squirmed and writhed and continued to sweat in the stifling confines of my bag.  I grunted and groaned my faux misery, letting Lisa know that I was still all right, careful not to utter a sound resembling any of our safety signals.  I did not want her to think that I was in trouble.  I struggled at my bonds now and again, but mainly relished the bondage.  I had never felt so helpless, or fantastic, and despite my position, my erection stayed throughout, threatening to explode.

I don’t know how long when Lisa finally strolled past me again.  She dropped something that looked like a small black shopping bag next to me, then strode on towards the bathroom.  More garbage to go with me – the garbage – I assumed.  I heard the bathroom door shut, and before long the toilet flushed.  Then I heard the pipes moaning and creaking as she started the shower.

Lisa left me to my ‘fun’ for the most part after that.  I saw her blur past when she finally finished her shower nearly an hour later.  Maybe she took a bath as well, but I saw her legs, that flash of pink as she stepped by my bagged prison and back towards the front of the apartment.

She made frequent trips back into the kitchen, but only asked how I was once, short and to the point.  I saw the refrigerator light go on a time or two, and twice she returned to the bathroom.  Meanwhile it was getting dark in the kitchen, the light in the rear windows of the apartment dimming finally to black.

I estimated that I had been bound, gagged and bagged for nearly eight hours or so, and as it was summer it had to be close to nine.  I could see the flickering light of the television coming from the other room, and I imagined that I could see the back of Lisa’s head poking over the top of the couch, though it was too far to be sure.

***

“Mmmmnnn…” I moaned as something jabbed into my ribs.  I blinked, thrashing about for a moment before I remembered where I was.  I saw Lisa’s legs just beyond my translucent prison as she jabbed her toes into my ribs again.

“Still with me, lover?” she asked, giggling.  I grunted the affirmative.

“Good,” she said with a smugness and a pleased lilt.  The anger was gone from before, and I was glad of that.

“I know I am.  You are soooo sexy to me right now.”  I saw her stretch and yawn then, her arms reaching for the ceiling.  “I’m so tired though, and TV’s for shit.  I’m gonna go to bed, so time to take out the trash.”

Lisa stood and stepped away for a moment.  When she returned I saw a swath of black in her hands.  She laughed as she enveloped me, draping the black over my bag.  It was another trash bag.

She kicked and prodded me to help me roll into the bag that she had draped over me.  I felt her tugging at the edges, shifting me about as she leaned in with her legs, knees and feet.  All at once the world went dark as she twisted the top of the bag tightly, and seconds later sealed it with a zip tie.

I sat there for a moment, breathing hard until I saw a prick of light and felt her nail poking me in the cheek as she drilled a new air hole into the second bag with her finger.

And again, my air hole disappeared.  It took me a moment to realize that Lisa was double-bagging me, enclosing me in a second black bag that she sealed just as readily as the first.  I heard the zip tie cinch shut, and then the finger returned, this time actually scratching playfully at my nose.

“Comfy?” I heard her ask, but whether she heard my muffled grunts I have no idea.  I heard the bag crinkle overhead, and soon I felt movement as I was dragged along the floor, heading towards the door I thought.

I heard the locks on the door open with a series of clicks and clacks and soon the dragging resumed, though it did not last long.  I thumped up against what I assumed to be the outer wall of our apartment, in the hallway.  I could barely hear Lisa’s labored breathing from her efforts, followed by the ‘scritch’ of a match.  I smelled smoke.

“Hope it’s not too cold out here for you,” Lisa said.  I could only imagine her standing there at my side as she enjoyed her cigarette, the man that she loved bound, gagged and bagged in the trash bags at her feet.

“Hope too that the Super doesn’t do us any favors and haul you down to the street." She giggled.  “That would be bad.  Kind of ironic though, I suppose.”  I felt her foot as she planted it onto my shoulder, her toes probing about, scratching at my ear.  She was enjoying this, having fun with me.  I could not believe that she would leave me in the hallway overnight.

“Hopefully I’ll wake up to collect you before he does.”  She removed her foot and I heard the sound of her padding back towards the doorway.  “Remember though, I’m suspended.  I can sleep late tomorrow…”

My eyes went huge and I started thrashing about again, screaming into my gag and the triple layers of plastic.  I know she heard me, saw me, but she ignored me as well.

“Well, I’ll try.  Sleep tight, sweetie,” she laughed.  “Pleasant dreams.”

I heard the door slam shut, the locks quickly sliding into place, followed by silence…

She did not come back.

I moaned and exploded into my bag, the biggest, longest orgasm of my life.  Then I sagged in my bondage.

It was going to be a long night…

 

To be continued?

Story © Carnaj 2006

 

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09.12.06

story continues in Recycled 2

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