Gromet's Plaza - Bondage Stories
Just Another Toy on the Shelf
by Riptieron
© 2004 - Riptieron - Used by permission
storycodes: M/f; D/s; bondage; encased; plaster; cons; XXX
grometsplaza - www.grometsplaza.cjb.net
Just Another Toy on the Shelf
by Riptieron
Just Another Toy on the Shelf by Riptieron
 
I was not in a very good position, considering that I had been, for the last seven years, my Master’s favorite slave, and that was what led me to my down fall. I had become too comfortable, too relaxed as the favorite, earning special privileges that others did not enjoy, and feeling good about myself. Now I was to be punished for my arrogance. I had thought of myself as better than the rest of the slaves, but now I realize all but too late of how I am wrong. I lazily let my guard down one too many times, did not respond as fast to my Master’s commands, and He introduced me to my replacement, stating that I have fallen out of his graces as head slave, and he will play with me as long as he gets amusement out of my punishment for being lazy. 

I shuddered at the thought of how he might punish my body… I have seen the way he has treated the other slaves for his amusement and pleasure, his keen intellect and vast knowledge of bondage gives him a vast palate to choose things to torture my soft body with. I am twenty-six years old, and have long flowing black hair. My body is 36 inch chest, 22 inch waist, and 28 inch hips giving me the appearance of a goddess. My firm breasts do not sag, and have nipples that firm up when I think about my Master’s touching me. I love all types of bondage, and there is nothing I won’t let my Master do to me, even now.

My replacement is as well endowed like I am, and has the same overall features as me. I am jealous of her opportunity, being called out to be the subject of my Master’s every whim. I wait in the lower chamber alone. I have been locked in this room, this cell for the damned, held here as he prepares the dungeon for my punishment. This room is Spartan, has no windows, and just one door. The walls are cinderblock, and the floor cement, no paint. There is a cot on the far wall for me to sleep on, and a slot under the door for my food to be slipped by the other slaves. I do not know how long I have been here, but I have had nine meals, so I have been here for roughly three days. I have only a blanket to stay warm with, and I usually stay wrapped in it. 

I have little more to think about than my fate, which is reserved for some twisted punishment that may place my body into restraints forever. My master once placed a girl into an iron cage, welding it shut around her body, she had very little room to move, and she had to be fed by someone else because she could not raise her arms to feed herself. Another girl he placed in coffin, and also welded it shut, except for the vents, and she is still inside drinking her meals thru a straw, attached to the wall of the coffin. My master also has a since of humor. He once caught a girl stealing food from the cooler, and he punished her by shackling her to a wall in the basement, placing a catheter and intravenous line to her, and then walled her up, but not before filling the compartment slowly with plaster, over a two month period. She is still down there, plaster up to her neck, and receiving her meals intravenously thru the line from the kitchen, where the drip bag is located. I will probably have a similar fate, as I am no longer anything special to him. 

I heard the door to the chamber being unlocked, and my master opened the door, standing in the entrance to the room, he motioned for me. I stood up dropping the blanket to the floor, knowing he would not stand for me to be clothed in any manner. He put his large hand on the back of my neck and guided me to the dungeon. It was down the hall and a flight of stairs. 

The house had been made for him, he was incredibly rich, and he wanted this house to seclude all the things that he desired to do, or create, or otherwise think of. Even after seven years in the house, there are parts of the house that I do not know about, but I know that they are there, just by the dimensions of the upper floors, there is space not taken on the basement floors. I often wonder about the other half of the basement level, the area he calls the “toy room.” That is where the other girls have been moved to, the area that is secret. This area where none of us slaves ever want to go, but are all at some point going to in the end, when we out live our use to the Master. This place is where no one returns from, and there have been four to go down in the last seven years.

He pushed me into the dungeon, and I was then shackled at the legs, by a chain anchored to a “D” ring set in the center of the floor. This was the place he used to have fun with most of us, this was his dungeon for the family so to speak, and he often called it the “family room.” There are pegboards full of whips and bondage equipment of every kind on the walls. I have spent long hours roped up in all manner of contortions at his hands inside this very room. He then opened the door that I had never seen opened. It was the door to the other half of the basement, and somewhere in there was the “toy room.” 

He walked into the space beyond and I wondered if he would come out, the space so haunted my mind, taking up space in my dreams, and forming pictures of the things that he had told me of. Master emerged again from the space and held a collar. He locked it onto my neck and took the shackles off. He walked slowly to the doorway holding the chain to my collar. Giving a slight tug, he looked annoyed at my brief loitering.

I bowed my head sadly as I walked to the doorway, knowing that he had decided to move my status down to the toy room, where all the other “playthings” were. I never really understood how deeply my Master was into his private obsessions until I entered this space. He had every tool one could think of, it was a workshop, and a good one, with every tool in its place, and a good deal of room to make things. There was an elevator on the side of the room, a service elevator. It could only go down, since I knew that it did not go upstairs, to any other part of the house. I wondered how large a place this was… if there was an elevator… 

He hooked the chain to the ring hanging from the ceiling. I looked at the room, it was bare except for the tools, a pallet lay on the floor, and there were empty boxes on the far wall, stacked up. I wondered what he would do with me. I am scared. The air is cool, and I began to shiver. He looked at me as my body got goose bumps, and my nipples firmed up. He smiled. 

He was tinkering with something on the other side of the workshop. He turned back to me, and grabbed my hands by the wrists, then placed them into leather cuffs. Walking me over to the pallet on the floor, he attached the cuffs to a pulley chain on the ceiling, and then he ratcheted me up, slowly inch by inch, until I was a foot above the pallet. He placed two boxes under my feet, and then lined the boxes with plastic bags. He painted my feet with black latex body paint. It took about ten minutes to dry. My arms are getting very tired from hanging. He opened a bag of plaster, and mixed up a large amount of it inside of a plastic trash bag. I looked down at my feet, now stiff from the latex over them. He was planning to encase me inside plaster! How far would he go? I had no idea. I was only here to please him, so I tried to give him my best ‘helpless but willing’ look, and be the part of the scene that he wanted. I don’t think that I did such a good job, as he poured the contents of the bag into the boxes below my feet, I think my eyes showed real concern for what was going on. 

He stirred the plaster for a time, and then started to lower me into the plaster. Even though it was only my feet, I knew that this would be a long lasting cast, the boxes where about six inches larger than my feet, my tiny feet would be hopelessly trapped by that amount of plaster around them. He took a small spreader bar and placed it between my knees, spreading my legs to the desired angle. I complied with him to get the effect that he wanted for the pose. As he lowered me further, the cold plaster surrounded my feet, sticky and thick. He worked out any bubbles, and made sure that the feet where at the right angles. He then placed three baby bottle nipples into the plaster, upside down just far enough to hold them in without sinking. I was very tired from hanging, but I tried not to show it, he would be displeased with it. 

As the plaster hardened, it grew hot, and the surface of the blocks began to sweat as the moisture came out. I felt the plaster warming my body up, as the blood rushed past the blocks around my feet. Soon the plaster would cool, and I would be free of the heat. He watched me as I waited for the plaster to cool, and he finally tested the plaster, and then lowered me an inch more, allowing me to rest on my feet. I had no ability to move my feet, and the plaster was still hot.

After seeing the plaster had taken, he left the room. I was left to hang, arms up, and the two plaster blocks on my feet. I hung there over night. By morning the blocks are almost dry on the top. My arms are numb from being up all night. With the spreader bar at my knees, and the plaster blocks on my feet, I am for the most part immobile. 

Master returned to the room. He inspected the blocks carefully, and then got to work on the next part of his unfolding plan for me. It seemed that I was his new hobby, and I actually liked the attention. He pulled the nipples from the plaster, and started to paint my legs, he covered them twice this time. My legs felt great having two coats of the latex body paint feels wonderful. He stopped just below my clit, covering everything up to my hips. All I could do is watch. Master cut a box open, then folded it around the bottom box of my right leg. He duct taped the seams together, and lined it with plastic just as he did the first. This would make the second part of the cast for that leg. The new box stopped just below my knee. 

He got a drill out, and drilled three holes into the plaster block, pilot holes for three bolts, that he screwed into place, for when the new plaster set around them, the two block would be held fast by the bolts. The indentations from the nipples would also interlock the blocks together.  He repeated the whole procedure for the other leg too. 

Master mixed another batch of plaster up, and poured it into the molds. He placed nipples again, and left me again. The cold goop hardened within thirty minutes, getting hot fairly fast. I now was sure of it, he meant to encase me totally in plaster, I would never move again after this procedure. I hung for the rest of the day. Then at night Master returned and started the next phase of the encasement.

He released my arms from the cuffs, and then pulled me over to the work table on a dolly. With much effort, he placed first one leg, then the other onto the workbench. I laid flat on the table, with a fluorescent shop light directly above me, lighting up the space I am in fully. The table I am resting on is cold, and the top was covered with laminate. It is smooth, and he could slide me around on its surface easily. I wondered if I what he was going to do next.

He painted my hands, and forearms. He was going to cast them next. He first placed my body onto several blocks of scrap wood, elevating it up. Master positioned my arms up at ninety degree angles to my body, and placed blocks under them too. I tried to act as if I were made of clay, doing everything he wanted me to. If this is what he wanted, this is what I would give him. He cut holes for my hands to go thru the box side, and put my hands in, resting on the blocks. My hands still above my head, they were quite comfortable now that I was lying down. I felt the plaster covering my hands as he poured in the mixture. I began to get excited as it began to firm up. I know that master noticed my excitement as I felt my nipples harden. I was getting hot. My clit bulged but there was nothing that I could do to get off. I was being tortured by this. I love being helpless.

When the heat disappeared, it was early in the morning, and I was very hungry, and thirsty. My ordeal had lasted two days so far, and I was growing weaker. Master usually did this for a reason, he liked submissives to be weak and tired, and it seemed to excite him that I was fighting just to please him. He returned early in the morning to start another section. He started work on my forearms. He used the same techniques as before, attaching bolts, and taping the boxes together. 

My body rested on the blocks of wood, and my hands inside the plaster, encased by the rigid material. I was comfortable, considering this. With both my feet and hands entombed, I felt like a doorstop. My feet had no play, I could not move them an inch. The plaster was heavy, still saturated with water. I was naked except for the plaster. 

My excitement still grew as he poured the next batch of fresh plaster. I had not been entombed before this, and I think that I like it. The plaster grew firm, and I would soon be worth nothing more than a giant paperweight. I wondered if he would encase my whole body, or just the extremities. 

Master placed a hairnet over my head, and placed a box around my head. He then painted my head, and made sure that my eyes are shut for good by the latex. I am now blind, and have no way to see. Master placed a tube into my mouth, and then sealed it up to my lips using the latex paint. I would remain a statue sealed inside this plaster for the rest of my days. I soon felt the plaster pour into the box over my head. He filled it up halfway, and then stopped; I guessed that the plaster would have to be done in two passes, for the heat not to cook my scalp. I waited for what seemed forever. My eyes shut; I could not judge time in any way at all. The room felt as if where moving some times. 

I awoke with a start to the felling of cold plaster being poured on my face, as Master finished the head mold. The plaster was very wet this time, and felt colder than usual. I tried not to move a muscle. 

I could feel him painting the rest of my body, applying the latex liberally to my chest, and using broad circular strokes to cover my large breasts. Then I could feel him attaching something to my body, like a piece of card board, or something. Master would place it on my body, and take it away, then replace it, and take it away again. I think he was fitting something to the curvature of my form. He was going to fit a molding piece to my body, to block out the plaster on the next pour. I would have exposed areas! I was excited to realize this, and then I remembered, my head is still in the plaster. I would never be able to see myself inside this encasement. The making of the next mold took my Master a full day to complete. He worked constantly on it too. I could not stay awake from exhaustion and dehydration. I know that my master would keep me safe from real danger; he had walked this line with me before. I drifted out of consciences. I was startled by the cold feeling of something pushing its way into my small asshole, it was a butt plug, and Master forced it firmly into me, and then adjusted it by inflating the bulbous part of the plug, keeping it lodged inside of my ass. I felt full and weak. He started working on the mold again. I could only wait. 

I was dozing in and out when he started the plastering again. He poured the plaster in up to just cover the underside of my ass. I was supported by blocks under my back. I would be getting plastered underneath of my back, and then he would most likely build up from there. I have multiple molded pieces of cardboard stuck to my body, around my hips, ass, and sides running up and around the outside of my breasts, then over my armpit and up to my neck. I have the feeling that I will be a body without a face when all of this plastering is done. Master would be able to use my exposed areas as he wished, and I would never be able to utter a word. I found this most arousing. I feel back asleep.

I don’t have any idea of how long I was out, but I feel warm all over my body, and I can’t move anything anymore. Master must have poured the last of the plaster. I can’t stay awake, I am too tired.

I feel something wet against my lips, I open my eyes, and I see Master spooning me some broth. I am slightly upright, I don’t understand how. I take a few gulps, the plaster over my face is gone now, but the rest of the encasement is still on. Master helps me to eat, and then I fall back asleep.

I awake to see the other part of the mask on the table in front of me. It was made of rubber, hard rubber; Master must have wanted me to have a removable face mask. My head is still lodged behind a ton of plaster, and I cannot move it at all. He left it off for the night, or what ever time it is, I no longer have any idea, I have been down here for so long… I can’t say. The mask has bolts in it to refasten it to the plaster front, and in that event, I would be again faceless. 

My body is surrounded by plaster on all sides, but in the frontal areas- my sex, and breasts, stomach, are exposed to the air. Master has cut away the latex that protects me from the plaster, cut it back to the point that it meets with the plaster. Under the plaster, the latex is still there. I would wear it for the rest of my life. I can wiggle, but only in the places that are exposed. I am really trapped in the plaster, my feet, my hands, legs, and arms are very stiff. I will never move them again.

I look as far as I can around the room, and see that I am in a small cell, with no door, but a hall, or passage lie beyond the opening in the opposite wall. It runs in both directions past my cell. I see one overhead light; the walls are made of concrete, solid, and cold. This place is dreary, dark. The table is in front of me, it is small, and holds the mask.

My exposed flesh is cold, but the rest of me is warm, the insulation of the plaster keeps me plenty warm. I see that there is a tube below me that runs into a bag. This must be from the butt plug. I squeeze on the plug with my sphincter, and feel that it is still there and very firmly entrenched. I have no rights to anything in here. I am a thing in his care. So I wait. 

He came back within an hour, Master took the mask and placed it over my face saying the words I would never forget, “I will never touch you again, but, I will lease you out to some of my high paying friends, for their pleasure. You will be a toy for them, a good one too. I will make a lot of money off of your body, and regain the loss that I sustained from when you where living with me in the house.” He said, “and when you are finally too old too be of use, I will wall the rest of your body into the wall, then place a cement wall in front of that, you will be fed intravenously, for the rest of your life. Then, in front of you, someone else will be placed, less than a foot away.” 

I heard the words, and realized that he meant to pimp me out to rich businessmen that he knew, I would be a perfect lay for anyone who wanted to remain nameless. I would never know them, and they would never care about me, I would be used for others pleasure, literally pinned to a wall. In the darkness behind the mask, I would have to wait for each meal, and with no light, the wait is agonizing. 

I felt someone grab my chest, and run their hands over my body, they stuck a finger inside of me, and dug into me, they had no shame, and did not use a light touch, I am, after all, an object, as good as a car, or any other machine, he was just kicking my tires so to speak. He pressed his big hairy body against mine, and thrust a very large fat dick into my love hole, making me wince at the suddenness of its invasion, he thrust at me repeatedly, and then erupted, I could feel his penis throbbing as he came, and all I could do is hang inside of the plaster, waiting for the experience to end. He pulled away, smacked my titty, and backed off. It was all over in about ten minutes or less. That was the first of many, in that night alone; I learned that I would make my Master rich beyond my wildest dreams, and that I had underestimated my net worth. He obviously, had not. In the first month no less than forty men came and used me, my Master had given me to them, and I was helpless to object, helpless in all ways to fighting this, and I could only think about resisting there assault upon my body. I liked it though, I really do. I have no guilt about having sex at all, and I get it all the time. I don’t have to worry about making decisions, and I never have to worry about their appearance, I never see them. My life is very laid back. 

I often think about when it will be when Master decides to retire me, and wall me up. But for right now, I will enjoy being the ride that everyone likes to cum on. 

-RIP 
 

04.08.04

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