Cemented

M+F+/f S/M,


Standard disclaimers: This is a work of fiction - no character
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead. No
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's
imagination. Copyright retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only. It is not to be published
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs,
or on Web Pages, without the express prior consent of author.
Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.

Although there is discussion of a snuff film in the story, this is NOT a snuff story. If you need to be reassured, go to the last part of the story and you will find the heroine riding off to new and better adventures. The author is well aware that some folks really don't like snuff (personally, I think it is a waste) and so I am going to extra lengths to appeal to your curiosity.

Cemented Chapter 2

In this chapter, Valerie faces one of her death scenes. Will it be the end? Read on.

(Leather, leather and more leather – and cement)

Valerie learned that she was not going to be stressed every day until she dropped or otherwise expired. Indeed, it was three days before she had anything happen to her. In the meantime, she had the run of the place, nude and with shackles. Not surprisingly, she found a huge library of erotic material: videos, books, magazines and some drawings. She was not surprised that she got very wet as she viewed or read any of the stuff.

On the third day, she spent some time thinking about her future. She knew she was not going to leave this property alive; yet, at the same time, she was looking forward to her ordeals. If they were going to be anything like the dinner conversation that first night, she could see herself going out in a blaze of glory. And, to her delight, even those thoughts produced a wet pussy. She was alive as she had never been before in her life, and her death was probably a good idea for she could not see herself ever returning to the Tuesday afternoon bridge games with the ladies. She giggled at a scene that popped into her mind: handing out gas masks so the ladies would not be overcome by her pussy odors.

The maid entered when she heard Valerie moving around the room. Her toilet was elaborate. The maid shaved her head as well as her pussy to get rid of any stubble. Her make up wasn't as elaborate as it was that night for the dinner, but it was still striking.

The maid then urged her towards a pile of stuff. Most of it was leather, and Valerie inhaled the sweetness. The maid then began to wrap a different leather corset around her. The front was hooked and then the maid began to draw on the laces, methodically from top down and then from bottom up, meeting at the middle. Very quickly, Valerie began to feel her breath shorten. Still, when the corset was tied off, she knew she had been more tightly laced in the past. The maid then inserted wired probes in her pussy and asshole. Valerie had just read about electro punishment the night before so she figured these out right away. The maid carefully taped the wires to Valerie's belly and back.

Leather trousers were next but they came to just below her knees and then the boots that rose to meet the bottoms of the trousers. There were two straps heading downward on each trouser leg and two buckles at the tops of the boots. These were fastened. The next item was a huge collar that came down to the top of her boobs and held her head rigidly. This was laced up the back, but not so tight that she had trouble breathing. She was wordlessly invited to insert her hands into the sleeves of a leather strait jacket, and very quickly, she was thoroughly secured with her arms crossed in front of her. Finally, the inevitable hood. This had no eye holes but a sort of glycine substance was at her eye level so she could look out but not see very clearly. The hood had no nose holes. There was a moderate opening at the mouth. Into this opening, a hose was inserted that protruded into her mouth about an inch. Breathing was comfortable. She next felt some sort of coat or cape draped over her shoulders and then the maid took her hand and led her out of the room and downstairs. She was comfortable in the heel height.

One of the men told her of her ordeal for the day, and probably the whole night also. She was going to be buried alive. She thought to herself that this wasn't likely to be the end but it still rattled her a bit to hear her sentence. She didn't think she was claustrophobic but she'd soon know. After being tightly strapped above and below her tits, at her wrists and knees, and just above her ankles, she was backed into some sort of shell, facing forward. She knew she was closely confined because she could feel sides of something on either side of her body. Once she was in the shell to the satisfaction of the group, the shell was lowered so that she was laying on her back. Somebody was messing around at her crotch but she suspected they were wiring her. Then she sensed that a lid was placed on her shell. There was a small window for her to look out. The hose into her mouth was twisted a bit. She felt the lid being nailed to the shell. It occurred to her she was in a wooden box – an old fashioned casket.

And then she was picked up and placed on some sort of device which turned out to be a cart. She was rolled quite a distance. She knew they had gone outdoors.

In time the parade stopped. It sounded as if straps were being wrapped around her coffin. Soon, she felt the coffin move and she knew the whole shebang was airborne, and then the casket seemed to be lowering. That was confirmed when she saw the dirt sides of her grave begin to appear above her. Too soon, she felt her coffin settle on the ground at the bottom of the hole. Then she began to feel thuds on her casket. She could barely make out that members of the Group were shoveling dirt in on top of her casket. Soon her face plate was covered and, as the depth of the dirt above her grew, the sounds became muffled and then she could no longer hear anything. It was then she noticed that the hose in her mouth was permitting her to breath. Until this moment, she didn't know if she was claustrophobic or not. Fortunately, it seemed she wasn't.

So she simply lay there. A hose provided air. She had been told this would last all day and possibly all night. My goodness, what the hell would she do? She knew the answer to that: nothing What about pissing and shitting? That answer was obvious: she would hold it.

How long had she been down here? Time had no meaning to her. She could barely move her fingers and that was about all. She could breathe and she could THINK. And so she thought. By now, her kids should have been able to read her letters. She wondered what they would think. She had hoped, when she wrote them, that she would have been dead by now so that she wouldn't have had to think about them. She knew too that a search would be made for her, but she doubted very much that anyone would ever find her.

She was startled when she felt a tingling in her pussy, followed swiftly by an alternating tingling in her asshole. Ah, those wired things her maid had inserted. With the tingling to help her pass the time, this might not be so bad after all. But after what seemed like ages, the tingling in her pussy had not gained any speed. She was stimulated but not near the edge and with no movement possible, she knew there wouldn't be any way for her to get off unless the current was increased.

The current was not increased

.

She lay there, in her coffin. Her pussy and ass hole were alive, but she was not terribly excited. She found that she couldn't even squeeze her pussy as if a nice sized cock was fucking her. Oh, this was going to be major FRUSTRATION. She was pretty certain the Group was not going to let her die from this ordeal, but she hadn't counted on them teasing her to death. DAMN she thought: why can't I get off? Even a little cum would be nice.

Even if the wires in her cunt and asshole did not bring her off, they did induce the need to pee. With the plug in her cunt she had no choice but to hold it. This produced what the electrical current could not: a moderate cum. Normally, she liked to thrash around when she had a cum, but there was no way she could thrash the way she was secured, so she just let it sweep over her.

In time, Valerie became drowsy. The air was slightly warmed and her coffin was not cold. On a scale of one to ten, with one being painfully uncomfortable and ten being completely comfortable, she could say a two or three for sure.

She awakened with a start. She was disorientated and then she recalled where she was. What was wrong???

The air!

There was no air coming in the hose!

Damn! Were they really going to kill her off in this first ordeal? How could she have been so stupid to believe otherwise? And then there was air. What had happened? Was her air supply in jeopardy? And then the lassitude of nothing to do again overcame her and she slept. The tiny tingling in her cunt and asshole continued, and she felt good about it, but knew it wouldn't keep her awake.

Again she awoke with no air. She panicked. She gasped and sucked on the tube in her mouth but no luck. No air meant unconsciousness. She began to feel woozy. And then, again, there was air. It came to her that the Group had decided to interfere with her air supply as an additional element of her ordeal. She mentally smiled – these people were indeed devious.

Twice more her air supply was interrupted. She could not help panicking, and so each such event was marked by perspiration and total fright.

Again she drifted off but she awakened to something different. Her air supply was constant so what was it. It wasn't until a light began to break through the dirt at her window that she managed to realize they were digging her up! She had survived.

Should you wish to comment or criticize my story, I can be reached by
E-mail at: belted1@verizon.net