Mummified.net Mummification Stories
Eat Your Veggies!
by Darkraptor1
wrappedupreallytight@yahoo.com
© Copyright 2007 - Darkraptor1 - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/f; D/s; latex; catsuit; bond; gag; wrap; tape; bandages; mum; bagged; straps; hood; reluct/cons; X
Eat Your Veggies! by Darkraptor1 F/f; D/s; latex; catsuit; bond; gag; wrap; tape; bandages; mum; bagged; straps; hood; reluct/cons; X
 

Six months.

That was how long Samantha had been a resident at the Wensly household. Not as a guest, yet not even as a household worker. Her position here was a specialty… Samantha was the household slave. Not a position she had really wanted, mind you. Rather, it was the result of some rather unfortunate circumstances. Not being able to pay off some bills towards her boss, she had elected the route of becoming an indentured servant… but a few little contract changes and she essentially became the property of Mrs. Wensly, owner of the household.

That had been six months ago. And during that time that she had been in this household, Samantha had to adapt to a lifestyle that was totally foreign to her. The main household chores weren't so bad, but being dressed in rubber and all sorts of restraints was taking getting used to…  especially when it came to sleeping in them, which her employer (Mrs. Wensly had started using the term "Master" lately, not a good sign) made her do.

At the moment, it was fairly early in the morning on another Sunday. Of all the days of the week, Sunday was Samantha's favorite, so to speak. Sundays were days of rest and relaxation, with no household chores on her part. That was a blessing… but as a trade off, she spent most of the day tied up anyway, forced into becoming an object of Mrs. Wensly's desire.

"Hopefully… " She thought to herself, "It won't be so rough this time."

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

"Aw hell… "

There was one thing that Samantha couldn’t stand, Sunday or not, and that was the alarm clock that blared at seven thirty in the morning, rapidly pulling her out of the warmth of deep sleep and back into the world of the living. But at least when she didn’t have to contend with the blindingly bright sunlight coming in through the window. The black tape wound around her eyes ensured that she wouldn’t have to suffer that.

As she did almost every morning, Samantha waited in her bed for her employer to come. With the restraints she wore, it wasn't like she could do anything else. At least she had been given a relatively light set of restraints to wear to bed the previous night, consisting only of an arm binder (black leather), the tape wound over her eyes (commonly done “to ensure that there’d be nothing to distract her), and the steel cuffs clasped around her ankles, shackling her to the bed. It was an interesting job, Samantha mused, being an indentured servant.

From across the small room, the door was opened and there was the sound of footsteps as a lady walked in. Samantha couldn’t see her, but heard her employer's voice, sweet as honey. “Good morning Samantha.”

“Good morning Mrs. Wensly.” She replied back, double sure to keep her tone polite and respectful. Being rude could earn her staying in bed like this all morning. Her employer sat down on the bed next to the bound woman.

“Did you sleep well?” Samantha wiggled in her restraints for a moment.

“Good enough until that alarm went off.”

“Well, let’s take care of that.” Still blind, Samantha listened and sighed with relief as the buzzer finally went silent. “There we go. Now don’t go back to sleep yet, we have a busy day ahead of us.” A quiet moan.

“Can’t I just sleep for another hour?”

“Not on your day off.”

“But I thought days off were supposed to be relaxing!” Smiling, Mrs. Wensly reached over and stroked the rubber catsuit covering Samantha’s body, fingers slowly stroking the smooth material… slowly going towards Samantha’s rather large buttocks.

“Who said it wasn’t going to be?” She said. “Would you like to start off with a little back massage?” Her bound slave considered the offer for a few moments. Back massages were rather rare… 

“Well… ”

“Yes?”

“It would be nice to get my arms out of this binder first." Samantha admitted, wiggling her arms as best she could to emphasize her plight. "I’m getting cramps.” Mrs. Wensly reached for her belt, from which dangled two pairs of handcuffs (one for hands, other for feet) and pulled one off.

“Very well, but you’ll have to wear the handcuffs instead.”

"Aww… ." Six months and Samantha still wasn't used to wearing handcuffs.

Mrs. Wensly started loosening the straps and buckles that held the arm binder in place. With a pull, the long black sleeve came off and Samantha’s rubber covered arms wobbled, then fell to her side as she stretched them, pulling long still muscles into motion.

“Oh damn that feels good… ” She whispered. Her arms remained free a few moments longer before Mrs. Wensly’s familiar touch came down on them, gently taking one wrist and pulling it behind Samantha’s back. A familiar sensation as the steel cuff was gently locked on, followed by the other arm being pulled back and cuffed as well.

“And how does that feel?” Samantha tested out the cuffs around her wrists, twisting her hands inside them.

“Even better.” She said jokingly.

“That’s very good.” The quick release snaps were undone from the bed, freeing Samantha’s legs, even though the cuffs remained locked around her ankles.

“Are you going to lock my legs together?”

“No, I’m not feeling that cruel today.” As Samantha wiggled and moved to sit up on the bed, Mrs. Wensly continued. “No housework today… "

"That's good." Samantha said with relief. Mrs. Wensly's arms went around her shoulders and pulled up, helping her up into a sitting position.

"Yes, especially considering how I have so many delights in store for you… ” Mrs. Wensly's slave paused at that tone of voice.

"Delights?"

"Oh… " Mrs. Wensly crackled. "You'll see."

After the tape blindfold had been taken off, and Samantha's eyes adjusted to the morning light coming in through the window, Mrs. Wensly got her to her feet and walked her towards the kitchen, where the dining room table was waiting for them, set with two plates full of food.

"Okay dear, after you eat your breakfast, we're going to start with a nice, long session of playtime." Mrs. Wensly promised.

"What kind of playtime?" Samantha asked. Normally playtime was something she just went along with… but there were occasional moments, situations where she found herself enjoying the activities Mrs. Wensly put her through.

"Well… " Mrs. Wensly gently guided Samantha to her chair and helped her sit down. "… I would figure we'd start with an hour or so in the sleep sack, then… "

"But I don't like the sleep sack!" The protest was noted, but the opinion was ignored.

"Yes, but an hour a day keeps a domestic servant in her place, knowing what awaits her should she be naughty. Now, let's eat." Pulling up her chair next to Samantha's, Mrs. Wensly took a seat and picked up a fork, impaling one of the items on Samantha's plate… a rather large piece of green broccoli. She eyed it, twisted the fork playfully for a few moments before putting the broccoli within Samantha's biting distance.

Usually Samantha was quick to eat whatever was offered to her… yet upon looking at the broccoli, she made no move to consume it.

"Samantha dear… "

"Yes?"

Mrs. Wensly glanced at the fork. "You're not eating."

"I know, but I don't like broccoli for breakfast."

"You need to eat your vegetables. They're good for you."

"But they're disgusting! I hate broccoli!"

"Come on Samantha..." Mrs. Wensly pushed the fork forward. "Eat."

"No!"

"Come on, eat your breakfast." She said, sounding almost like a kind, yet persistent grandmother.

"I'm not eating the broccoli!"

"Samantha… " Looking down at her slave, Mrs. Wensly's tone turned serious. "Eat your breakfast." Samantha looked back.

"Is that a challenge?" She asked with a smile, tone suddenly turning mischievous, for an opportunity to try and foil her 'employer' had shown itself. Samantha wouldn't be one to turn it down.

"There is no 'challenge' here. Either you eat your veggies, or there will be no playtime today, only punishment for not doing as you're told. This is your last chance. Now eat."

Considering how much Samantha knew about her employer's punishments, and what she would go through if they were given to her… she knew that the best course of action was to swallow her pride and eat the vegetable. But her chance to tease Mrs. Wensly was here, and she wasn't going to turn it down. So with that, Samantha looked at her employer, eye to eye, and said, "I'm not eating my veggies."

The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked for several seconds as slave and employer looked at each other, eye to eye. Mrs. Wensly broke the silence with a disappointed sigh. "Then I'm afraid I have no choice. Stand up." Samantha did so, and Mrs. Wensly gripped her shoulder, leading her to one of the side rooms in the house… one that was reserved for naughty employees who didn't do what they were told.

Twenty minutes later, and Mrs. Wensly was pulling the last chain tightly, ensuring that Samantha's hogtie was as tight as it could be without being uncomfortable for long term use. Judging by her expression as the arm binder and leg cuffs were tightened just a little bit more, it looked like Samantha might be having second thoughts on going through this particular punishment for disobedience. Best to give her a choice.

"It's your choice Samantha." Mrs. Wensly said. "This can end when you want it too. All you have to do… " The fork with the broccoli was waved under Samantha's nose. "...Is eat your vegetables. Now, are you going to eat them?"

Despite the rather uncomfortable look, Samantha's fiery spirit remained. "No!"

Mrs. Wensly sighed. "Them I'm afraid I have no choice." Moving quickly, she took black tape and quickly wound it around Samantha's eyes, blinding her. Tape went around her mouth as well, leaving only the nose uncovered for breathing. And all the while, Samantha accepted it, if a bit reluctantly. At least she was a good slave… accepting her punishment without protest. "Your punishment will last an hour. You can end it by agreeing to eat the broccoli. Grunt twice if that is what you want."

One more tug to ensure the cuffs and chains were secure, and Samantha was left on the bed. Mrs. Wensly didn't leave the room, instead going to a nearby chair. Since she had to be around if Samantha changed her mind, Mrs. Wensly was going to spend the next hour with her slave.

She watched as Samantha experimented with her bondage, wiggling and rolling slightly. "Honestly child, I don't see why you won't eat." Mrs. Wensly muttered as she cracked open a romance novel. "It's just broccoli." Toes wiggling within her rubber catsuit, Samantha gave no answer, merely wiggled and squirmed more, causing her black arm binder to squeak and creak as it moved with her.

The hour went by torturously slow for Mrs. Wensly. Though the novel itself was a fairly good read (and offered a few ideas that she would possibly use in future play sessions), it was more interesting to watch a living model wearing bondage, to watch her squirm and wiggle. Or at least, for the first half an hour or so, for doing so apparently tired her, and the squirming stopped shortly afterwards, much to Mrs. Wensly's disappointment.

So, for the last half hour, she was left watching a still and motionless Samantha, who occasionally moved her head as if searching for someone. At those moments, Mrs. Wensly would cough to show that she was still in the room. Samantha may have been a slave, but safety still needed to be followed and panic could not be allowed. With every cough, Samantha would go still again and do whatever it was she did to pass the time being tied up. A few times, Mrs. Wensly considered going over and tickling her rubber covered feet, but decided against it. This was supposed to be a punishment, not a play session. And looking at the clock on the wall, she was disappointed to see that all these punishments were cutting into any play time they had scheduled.

When the scheduled hour was completed, Mrs. Wensly walked over to the bed and unwound the tape, revealing Samantha's closed eyelids, which opened a moment later, blinking furiously to try and adjust to the light. "Well, we're done." She informed her slave. "When I release you, you're going to change. Can't have you wearing a smelly suit all day long." Samantha, mouth still taped over, nodded obediently. That gave Mrs. Wensly a small smile. "Good girl." She said, rubbing her hand over the rubber suit. Samantha's eyes closed and her head lay down on the bed, almost like a cat enjoying a particularly good chin scratch. "Good girl."

It only took a few moments for Samantha to change into a fresh rubber catsuit, looking beautiful once again while encased in rubber. Mrs. Wensly watched her as she wiggled, ensuing that her suit was on as tightly as possible, a move that was used often in the house. It was fun watching her, especially seeing the rubber literally glide across her buttocks, but there was work to be done. Mrs. Wensly had to see if Samantha had gotten anything out of her punishment.

Getting up, Mrs. Wensly walked over. Seeing her, Samantha stayed still, not moving. There was still sweat and dampness on her forehead from the three hours of restraint she had gone through. Seeing that, Mrs. Wensly took a washcloth from the bathroom and slowly wiped it off. "There we go." She said soothingly. "All nice and dry again. Now, have we learned our lesson?" A quiet nod. "Good. Now… before we do any play, there's one thing you need to do."

"What?"

A fork was held up… on it was the piece of broccoli. "You have you eat your veggies."

It only took a few moments for Samantha to give her answer. "No!"

Mrs. Wensly's face dropped. "What?"

"I won't eat it!"

"Yes you will."

"No I won't!"

"Yes you will."

"No I won't!"

Looking on with an expression of "You have got to be kidding me.", Mrs. Wensly shook her head. "You disappoint me Samantha. You clearly haven't learned your lesson. We'll just have to try something sterner."

The room itself was bare, designed to look old and intimidating, to feel like many had passed through here and done time within its walls. There was only one feature inside, an odd looking chair that had two leg rests instead of a flat surface for someone to sit on. This was the punishment chair, where naughty slaves would go and sit in to think about what they had done.

Samantha, being the good, if only reluctant, slave that she was, had only sat in the chair once, and that was simply to see what it was like. This time however, it wasn’t exactly fun and games. To her employer, it was simply something that had to be done, a corrective measure to ensure that future orders would be complied in. Samantha, unsurprisingly, didn't like the chair. Being strapped to it was something she didn't really enjoy. Still, seeing Mrs. Wensly frustrated was worth it… 

"Oh no, not the chair!" She said, doing her best to sound terrified. "Please Mrs. Wensly, not that!"

"I'm sorry Samantha, but you know the rules. Disobedience must be punished. You'll spend two hours in that chair. Now go and sit in it." She unlocked the handcuffs, but gently pushed Samantha towards it. "If you don't cooperate, you'll spend five hours in the chair." The idea sounded grim. Samantha had her limits and an hour would be tricky enough.

Sitting down, she sat there and looked up at her employer, waiting while she left the room to gather the necessary supplies. To pass the time, and to exercise her limbs just a little bit more before being tied down, Samantha ran her rubber covered hands across the wood, feeling it's texture. Having sat in it only once, it already felt like an old friend welcoming her back, firm and strong behind her body, behind her rubber bodysuit. Oh… this was going to be tricky indeed… but oh so worth it.

Mrs. Wensly came back into the room, three rolls of tape in her hands. There were no cuffs or stocks installed in the chair, for the preferred method of tying someone to it was via extra-sticky tape. Samantha watched as the rolls dangled from her employers arms… trying desperately not to appear aroused (for the one thing that did turn her on was tape, and being wrapped up in it).

"Sit flat against the chair." Samantha did so. "Legs against the rests." Walking up, looking at her employee, Mrs. Wensly reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out one last little thing she had kept hidden. As Samantha watched, a skin tight hood was pulled over her head and down until it rested firmly against her face. With no eyeholes, she was blind. Still against the chair, Samantha heard the "Rrrrpppp" of tape being unwound, along with the authoritative voice she had long gotten used to.

"Stay still."

It took only ten minutes to wrap Samantha to the chair, securing and tying her down, the tape tight enough to ensure that while she could wiggle all she wanted too, escape was highly unlikely, especially with the tape wound around her ankles, legs, arms, body, and even around her head. When the last roll was tightened and flattened, Samantha couldn't see, couldn't talk, and could only wiggle a little. The perfect little captive.

"You'll be released in two hours." She heard Mrs. Wensly say. "If you manage to somehow escape… then you'll spend the rest of the day in the chair with triple the amount of tape. But you can end this whenever you want Samantha. All you have to do is grunt twice. I'll hear you and come in, and then you eat the broccoli."

"Never!" Samantha thought defiantly, shaking her head back and forth. Another sigh from Mrs. Wensly. There were footsteps walking away, a door closing, and then a lock being slid into place, leaving Samantha alone with her thoughts and the tape binding her for company.

When the two hours passed Mrs. Wensly pressed an ear up to the wood, listening for any noise coming from inside. There was… the sound of moaning. "Damn… " She thought. "Hope she didn't get her arms free." If her slave was pleasuring herself, there would be hell to pay.

Taking out the keys and unlocking the door, Mrs. Wensly had a small sigh of relief. Samantha was still firmly taped to the chair, and by the looks of things she had been wiggling and trying to escape for the entire hour. The tape had crinkled and been worn since applied, but it still did its job of holding her in place.

Samantha didn't stop wiggling as Mrs. Wensly walked over, being careful to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible. No need to alert her prisoner that the captor had returned. Besides, there was the little added bonus of watching her struggle and squirm… something that Mrs. Wensly found herself getting rather excited about… just watching her black form wiggle under that tape. And those breasts… Mrs. Wensly had taken special care to wrap the tape around the breasts so that they bulged out like large watermelons. Though not gigantic, they were still good sized and were a pleasure to look at, sealed away behind all that rubber. They'd be more fun to touch and play with too… maybe she could do it and see how Samantha reacted. It might even give her some incentive to eat her broccoli, still lying uneaten on the fork.

Still wiggling, Samantha had no idea what was going on as Mrs. Wensly slowly and gently touched her breasts with a fingertip. The sensation was so unexpected even, that she briefly stopped struggling and gave a little yelp in surprise, the sensation shocking her. Shock soon turned to pleasure as the unseen finger slowly traced its way across her breasts, going between the dip and then slowly arching back onto her nipples, playfully wiggling them.

"You really do have beautiful breasts." Mrs. Wensly commented, voice soft and gentle. No further words were spoken as the tape was unwound, and as the hood was pulled off, producing a sweaty, heat soaked head, along with an expression of weariness and exhaustion (though Mrs. Wensly didn't know that it wasn't showing the quiet satisfaction it's owner felt). "Now… how are we feeling?"

Samantha coughed for a few moments, trying to get her voice back. "Tired… " She said.

"Now… have we learned anything from all this?" It was an important question indeed, and the answer was critical. It took a few moments for Samantha to reply, for she was gathering her thoughts, and it was never easy to admit defeat.

"That I'm to eat my vegetables… " She said quietly. "Even broccoli."

"And why is that?"

"Because master says so."

"Yes… but why else do you think I want you to eat your vegetables?" A bit surprised at the question, Samantha pondered it for a moment.

"Because they are good for my body?"

"Yes." Mrs. Wensly reached out and touched Samantha's rubber suit, slowly moving her hands over her slave's body, especially the curves. "My slave needs to have a balanced diet to remain healthy and fit. We don't want an overweight slave who eats only junk food, do we?"

For a moment, Samantha's mindset of being a slave left her, as one thought came to mind that had to be expressed. "You're worse than my mother." She muttered, though not unkindly. "Always telling me to eat disgusting things that I don't like."

Such personal statements were rare, and it took Mrs. Wensly back for a moment. But she then said, "Well, as your employer and owner, I'm in charge of you. And while you live in this house, you are essentially my adopted daughter. And therefore, I know what's best for you. Besides… " Looking towards Samantha's butt, Mrs. Wensly allowed herself the privilege of running one of her hands over the smooth curves. "All the nutrients will help you look even prettier… in more ways then one."

Samantha didn't answer… merely closed her eyes at the touch of her employer caressing her butt. It felt good.

But a few moments later and it was done. "Come now, there will be time for that later. Now we have to do something first."

"What?"

Mrs. Wensly pulled out the fork and put it within Samantha's biting range. "Now eat."

Samantha took one look at the big, green, fluffy pieces of broccoli in front of her and quickly gave her answer. "No!"

Mrs. Wensly's face, which had been in that calm, focused motherly look… had dropped into one of both surprise and anger. "What?"

"No! I won't eat my broccoli!" Samantha's voice was like a pouting little girl. It was only appropriate then, that Mrs. Wensly responded in the manner of a mother talking to a stubborn little girl who was unbelievably persistent.

"Samantha… eat!"

"No!"

"You will eat that broccoli!"

"No, I won't!"

"What's gotten into you? Haven't you learned anything from your three hours of punishment?"

"I don't like broccoli! I'm not going to eat it!"

Fuming, face angry with frustration, Mrs. Wensly put the fork away. "So be it."

Twenty minutes later and Samantha once again found herself restrained. But Mrs. Wensly wasn't kidding around this time. This was going to be long term restraint, one which Samantha was going to have to endure without relief, possibly for several hours. This time, Samantha was being wrapped up, mummified. Mummification wasn't used often in Mrs. Wensly's household, but when it was done, Samantha could expect to be wrapped up for a long time. Mummification was very good at restraining a victim and keeping them restrained for very long periods of time without having to worry about sore limbs or cuffs digging into skin.

For this punishment, Samantha was lying down on her own bed, body wrapped up in white cloth bandages, wound completely around her body, even over the rubber suit. They covered every inch of her, compressed and tightened, wrapped with the mark of an expert who knew how to mummify the human body.

Flipping Samantha over onto her stomach, Mrs. Wensly quickly worked on finishing the last of the wrappings, covering Samantha's bound arms. As this was a punishment, Mrs. Wensly had decided to add a little element to make sure that Samantha wouldn't forget, putting her arms into another arm binder (Samantha had groaned in misery as her arms were slid in), then wrapping it to her back, forcing Samantha's arms down and locking them in position. It was going to be trying, lying there with her arms forced behind the back, but Samantha was a fairly agile and flexible woman… so she would have a chance of avoiding any undue pain.

The last strips were wound around the body, and then applied into place with some white tape, thus completing Samantha's mummification. Well… almost. There was still one last thing to do, but it could wait for a few moments.

Mrs. Wensly got off the bed, wiped some sweat from her forehead, and rolled the mummified woman onto her back. A groan as pressure came down on the mummy's arms, but Mrs. Wensly ignored it. Her slave had brought this upon herself and would need to deal with the consequences. "I thought you were better then this." She said. "But because of your disobedience, even after what I did to you, I have no choice but to punish you again, and this time for a much longer period of time."

Samantha looked at her employer, tried to say something through her gag.

"You'll spend three hours as a mummy. If you won't eat your vegetables after that, then you'll be punished again."

Another groan.

"But you can still choose to end it, any time you want. All you have to do is grunt two times, a sign that you're willing to eat the broccoli, and you will be released. But only, and I mean ONLY after you've eaten it."

Samantha looked at Mrs. Wensly again… with a bit of happy defiance in her eyes.

"That's enough talk. Time for the punishment to begin."

Pulling out the spandex hood (silver color), Mrs. Wensly walked over and put it over Samantha's head, who wiggled and groaned, showing that she clearly didn't want it going on. But then again, she didn't have a say in the matter. With it on, no skin was showing, and Samantha was completely covered head to toe. But Mrs. Wensly wasn't finished yet. Taking another roll of the white bandages, she quickly wrapped up Samantha's head until it matched seamlessly with the rest of her wrappings, but not so tightly so she couldn't breathe.

Samantha moaned and squirmed as she was held down to the bed, and as the thick, black leather straps were pulled across her, restraining her to the bed, each buckled and tightened down to ensure an absolute minimum of movement. And when they were all fastened, Samantha found herself unable to move at all. Still able to breathe, to move her head, but not to escape. She moaned and groaned, twisting and wiggling as best she could under the restraints, going on for several minutes before finally going still, realizing the futility of trying to escape. Next to the doorway, Mrs. Wensly started her timer, and the three hours began.

"Have we learned our lesson?" She asked four long, tedious hours later. "That we… are supposed… to eat our vegetables?"

Amazingly, frustratingly, against all logic and common sense, Samantha shook her head back and forth furiously.

"AGGGGG!!!"

Samantha lay mummified and on the bed. Though wrapped and blind, Samantha was still able to sense that her employer was gone and that she was very much alone in the bedroom. After several minutes passed, she began to worry, fearing that perhaps she had gone too far this time in her defiance (even enjoying being wrapped up, as arduous as it had been). That was probably the case, but her employer's angry shout had informed her that she had indeed gone far over the edge. But she didn't need to wait long for her employer to come back… carrying something new with her.

There was a whump as something was tossed onto the bed next to the mummy. "I've tried being nice… I've tried being polite." Mrs. Wensly snarled, unfolding something. "But I've had enough. You're not only being foolish Samantha, but stupid as well. And now I have no choice but to do this to you!" Her strong hands grabbed Samantha's upper body, wrapping around it like a snake. Helpless, Samantha was dragged across the bed until her head, shoulders, and back were propped up against the wall. Something thick and heavy was slid across her feet. “You’re going to be spending the rest of it locked inside the body bag until you eat your veggies!"

The body bag! Of all the devices within the Wensly home, there was nothing quite like the body bag. Big, thick, black leather, and well worn from years of use, it was a formidable item that was used only in the hardest, roughest play sessions… or in the harshest punishments, which was what Samantha was about to be subjected to.

As her feet and ankles were slid inside, a thought came to Samantha… that this time she would be going inside as a mummy, not naked as she usually did. How long was this going to last? 'The rest of the day' was a fairly generic term meaning either hours or until midnight. But with her body wrapped up and arms tied behind her back, Samantha wondered how she could possibly put up with being inside the bag for such a long period of time. With her legs and waist slid into the bag, she would have to hope that she had it within her to last the rest of the day, however long that might be.

With a few more grunts and a good amount of pushing and shoving, Mrs. Wensly managed to shove Wendy's mummified form into the body bag, which fit her body almost perfectly, almost like a glove. When the belts went on and were tied down, it would be even tighter, more restrictive, which was exactly what Mrs. Wensly was going for. Best to make this as tight as possible, even if it might hurt a little. Samantha needed to be shown, Mrs. Wensly reminded herself, who was in charge, and what happened if you didn't obey the rules or follow a direct order from the head of the household.

Reaching towards the feet of the bag, the zipper was taken and pulled, slowly inching its way up bit by bit, closing the gap and any hope of escape for poor mummified Samantha. It reached her waist, drew the bag tight around her hips till the leather rubbed the bandages. Up her chest it went, covering the form inside… then her breasts… and finally coming to a stop just under the chin. The zipper was pulled tight and taunt, locking it in place. But then another devious item was added… another hood for the helpless mummy to wear, only it was one much thicker then any hood that had come before. Thick, black leather eased it's way onto her head, protested briefly by a startled yelp, but that didn't stop the hood from being pushed into place, the blindfold going on (It wasn't necessary, considering how Samantha was already blind, but it did look very pleasing to the eye), and a small padlock going between it and the zipper, locking it in place.

Though tired and worn from the day's struggles, Mrs. Wensly nevertheless continued with Samantha's bindings, pulling out the black belts and buckling them tightly around the body bag, cinching each one down tightly. Samantha gave a small squeal with each one, but the protests were ignored. She had the chance to eat the broccoli earlier, but it was too late now. The last belt was cinched down and with that, an exhausted Mrs. Wensly slumped down onto a nearby chair, watching Samantha squirm not only within her wrappings, but within the tight bag as well. "Let her struggle." She thought. "That'll only tire her out quicker… keep her tired and still longer."

Four hours… five hours… six hours. On it went, Samantha locked and wrapped up, with Mrs. Wensly watching from next to the bed. Sealed into her world of darkness, wrappings, and restraint, Samantha was helpless, but still able to move, if ever so slightly. With that leverage, she pressed with everything she could, wiggling and squirming, rolling even, across the bed. Each spasm, each little movement wasn't enough to free her from captivity, but it was enough to give Samantha what she really wanted… the excitement of being tied up so heavily.

It had rarely happened before, if at all. In all the months since becoming a slave, she had never been wrapped up, bound, and sealed into a body bag like a sardine in a tightly packed can. With her very exact tastes in bondage, this scenario she found herself in wasn't a punishment… it was like getting a little taste of heaven. That was why she wiggled and squirmed now. While this lasted, however long it may be, Samantha wanted nothing more then to experiment with her bondage, experience it, feel it, relish in the tightness that mercilessly cocooned her. The feeling of being sexually aroused, yet never able to wiggle quite enough to reach an orgasm, was but another delicacy that added to the delightful treat she had become.

But after quieting down and being still, resting and recovering, Samantha had time to ponder her day. It had been mostly an exercise in endurance, going through all those restraints and situations she had been put in. She didn't want the broccoli, that much was true. She also didn't want to give in to the demands placed up on her, even if rational thought told her that she would inevitably have to eat the vegetable. Yet… this last situation, being mummified and placed in this bag, was the best thing that had happened to her all day. One isn't supposed to enjoy punishment… but when Mrs. Wensly had tightened those belts hours earlier, Samantha's groans hadn't been in protest, but in near orgasmic pleasure of feeling that level of restraint placed on her.

Still… the arm binder was quite tight and her arms, flexible and endurable as they were, were beginning to ache. Samantha wiggled them as best she could, but with her body weight pressing down on them, as well as the limited movement the restraint allowed, she couldn't do much. Still… she could hold on for quite a while longer. But as night fell, and as the sun set on the horizon, Samantha began to realize that perhaps it was best to just give in. This whole situation was beginning to get tiring. And besides… perhaps it was best if she ate that horrible broccoli and just got it out of the way. And maybe then the day would end with her knowing that she had gained a small victory over her employer in her defiance.

Moving her tongue as best she could around the huge gag in her mouth, Samantha grunted two times.

Mrs. Wensly was almost asleep when she heard the grunts.

"Hmm?" She muttered to herself. Getting up from the chair, yawning, and praying that her slave had finally given in, Mrs. Wensly walked over to the bed, to the body bag lying on the bed that contained Samantha within. "Are you giving in at last?" She asked, voice low and tired. She was not in the mood to keep up with these punishments, especially considering how her carefully laid plans for the day had gone completely amok.

Samantha grunted exactly two times.

"Finally… ." Mrs. Wensly hissed, unable to contain her relief. "You've come to your senses." Reaching over, Mrs. Wensly fiddled with the key and unlocked it, pulling it off and removing the thick hood. As it came off, she could feel the warmth and heat coming from her slave's head. After that, the white bandages were unwrapped from Samantha's head, tossed to the side, and the sweat soaked spandex hood was pulled off, revealing the very tired face of her slave, who blinked rapidly to try and adjust her eyes to the sudden brightness.

"Now listen to me young lady… " Mrs. Wensly leaned over Samantha, looking her dead in the eyes. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Ugwuhmm."

"And you're going to be a good lady from now on, correct?" Samantha looked exhausted… worn out.

"Ugwuhmm."

"And tell me… " Mrs. Wensly asked. "Are you going to eat your vegetables?" She held her breath.

Samantha considered for a moment… then her face went limp in defeat. She nodded, and Mrs. Wensly gave a long, slow sigh of triumph.

"All right then. I'll go get them."

Mrs. Wensly quickly left the room, went to the kitchen, and grabbed the fork with the now long-since-stale broccoli. She returned to Samantha's bedroom, holding the fork up high so that her slave could see what awaited her.

The gag was quickly undone and pulled out. Samantha coughed and sputtered, working her sore jaw muscles. "Now… " Mrs. Wensly said, moving the fork, and the broccoli down in front of Samantha’s face. "Eat."

Samantha looked at the green piece that was held in front of her. It was big and looked absolutely disgusting, a revolting piece of vegetable that she would give anything not to eat. So foul it looked… but she had no choice if she wanted to get out and get back in the good graces of her employer. So… closing her eyes… she opened her mouth wide. Grinning in triumph, Mrs. Wensly put the broccoli in Samantha's mouth. She visibly recoiled at its mere touch and texture, yet she managed to close and chew. Another wince, another bite.

Suddenly… Samantha's face softened. The look of disgust went away… and the chewing went faster. Then faster, and faster. Mrs. Wensly watched as Samantha opened her eyes… looking, of all things… pleased. The chews came faster and faster, faster and faster until there was one great swallow, and the broccoli vanished.

"That was delicious!" She said.

"What?!"

"That was delicious! I never knew that broccoli tasted so good!" Samantha said in surprise. "Can I have some more? Please? Can I have some more? I want more!"

Mrs. Wensly stared at Samantha.

Five minutes later, and Samantha's head had been sealed back up, wrapped up tightly and covered with the hood. The straps were now tighter then ever before and the bag itself had been strapped to the bed so that there would be no more wiggling this time. An exhausted Mrs. Wensly had already fallen asleep… and a very surprised Samantha had found out that even though she had won a small victory and had her fun, she was going to spend the rest of the night bound for… paradoxically… eating her veggies.

 

06.11.07

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