© Copyright 2003 - Ultraprene - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; foam; encase; bodyform; fibreglass; enclosure; cocoon; latex; denial; toys; sex; climax; stuck; cons; X
Here is my part of the joint venture with Jenny. Why not post it while we wait for her contribution.
Jenny and I agreed to pursue a fantasy joint venture. First I would tell her what I would do if I had her in my power, and she would then have an opportunity to write a reply or "payback" story. At the moment Jenny is still working on her part and we hope to post it as soon as it is done, but for now here is my contribution:
The beautiful and kinky Jenny in my clutches. What a tempting opportunity! How to make the most of it?
Let's begin by building some basic apparatus, starting with a good way of containing this treasure. First, we need a full body cast of packing foam to use as a form for shaping any containment devices and packaging. So, I start by building a wooden crate perhaps 6 ft long by about 3 ft wide and 2 ft. high. You notice that the sides are held on by just a few nails. I line it with polythene sheeting to prevent the foam from sticking to the inside. We also have to protect your delicate skin by wrapping you in several layers of pallet wrap, but first I help you put on your snug wasp-waisted corset so the resulting mould will reflect your most attractive figure. I wrap you, arms, legs, and body. When I get to your head, I put a breathing tube in your mouth--a snorkel or scuba mouthpiece with about 6 inches of tube sticking out. I then put soft pads over your eyes and rubber plugs in your ears and nose. As I wrap your head, I make sure the wrappings hold the breathing tube snugly in place. We naturally make sure you can breathe well through the tube.
The first foam is poured into the bottom of the crate so it foams up to about 6 inches deep, and just before it sets, I gently lay you down in the foam so you only partially sink, just to the midline of your body. Your legs are about 2 ft apart, and your arms are just out from your sides. You lie perfectly still as we wait for the foam to finish setting, and now your body is comfortably supported in its cavity. I lay a thin sheet of polythene over you, cutting a hole for your breathing tube to poke through. I remind you to hold perfectly still and add the second batch of foam so it completely covers you. Only your air tube protrudes. It takes a few minutes for the foam to set, but I decide to leave you in for about an hour, knowing how much you enjoy such encapsulation.
Finally, I pry the sides off the crate. The small number of nails makes it easy to do so. What is exposed now is a solid block of foam with the lovely Jenny entombed inside. Taking a blunt knife so as not to risk damaging the precious gem, I slide it between the two layers of foam on the separation formed by the plastic sheet. I am then able to lift off the top half, exposing the mummified form inside. Amazingly you are sound asleep. I speak gently to awaken you, and taking you by both hands I help you up and out of the mould, leaving behind a perfect impression of your shapely body.
It is difficult for you to walk so completely mummified in pallet wrap, and I think of undoing you, but a look at the clock shows it's nearly bedtime. So, instead of unwrapping you, I add a couple more layers, binding your legs together and your arms to your sides. I admire the beautiful figure, even more so with the tight corset under the packaging. With some difficulty, I carry the rigid form to the bed and lay it down gently. Then I undress and lie down next to it, holding the immobilized Jenny-mummy in my arms as we drift off to a peaceful sleep. I dream of all the wonderful things I will do starting tomorrow when we awaken, and continuing after I build all the apparatus I have planned.
I awaken in the morning and find you still sleeping. Gently, I cut the layer of wrapping holding your legs together, and strap your feet to the corners at the foot of the bed. Carefully, I snip an opening in the wrapping over your sex and small holes to allow your nipples to protrude. At this point you are beginning to wake up, and from your very moist condition it is clear you are very horny. I climb on top of you and take you, rolling your nipples between my fingers all the while. You can just barely move in your tight wrappings, and this just intensifies the sensations. As you climax, you scream through your air tube.
Realizing that you have been corsetted and wrapped since the previous night, it's finally time to take you out. With bandage shears, I cut the wrappings up the side of each leg, up the sides of your body, and finally each arm and your head.
I help you unlace your corset, and then we shower and enjoy breakfast before settling down to work. The first job is to use last night's hollow foam negative to make a positive cast-a replica Jenny on which to form new apparatus. I coat the entire inside of the hollow, both top and bottom halves, with anti-stick wax and make a hole in the upper half of the foam at the belly. The two of us lift the upper half and lower it onto the bottom half, binding the pieces together with duct tape. I then pour a fairly hard foam into the belly hole. The foam expands inside and fills the cavity until some of it emerges from the hole. We wait until the material has fully hardened. Again with your help, we lift the top of the mould exposing the foam replica Jenny inside. Grabbing it by its shoulders, we carefully lift it out of the bottom half. The likeness in uncanny, even showing the pattern of the wrappings and a trace of the corset laces. However, a little work with scrapers and sandpaper smooths out these details. Of course, we also use a sharp knife to trim the foam that expanded into the filler hole. In the process I also slim the waist a bit more and sculpt the breasts into a more conical shape.
The first piece of apparatus is the cocoon. We slather the Jenny replica with anti-stick compound and begin wrapping it with fiberglass cloth, just as though we were mummifying it. We work our way up the legs, hips, body, arms, and head. Soon the whole figure is covered in the white fabric. Securing the ends, we admire our work. The next step is to suspend the "mummy" by a cord around the waist so we can get at all parts. You get the paint brushes as I mix the resin with hardener in a bucket. Then we both get to work saturating the fiberglass with the stiffening resin. Very important is to add extra fabric and resin all around the midline to reinforce the shell where it will split into front and back halves. You also notice that I am building up additional thickness behind the small of its back. I also set a ring bolt at the crown of the head. By lunch time, the job is done and the resin is starting to harden. We decide to go out for lunch so we change out of our work clothes and head out.
When we return later in the afternoon, the resin is hard, and with a small circular saw cut the fiberglass shell along the sides, separating it into front and back halves, just like the original foam encasement. The extra thickness of fibreglass around the cut allows the attachment of latches, dozens of them to seal the halves together. To insure extra snugness and comfort, I coat the interior with latex compound which soon solidifies into a smooth layer.
I drill two breathing holes for the nostrils, and cut out a triangle at the crotch. I fit this piece with slide latches so it can be opened or replaced, for obvious reasons. By the time we are done, it is evening and you can't wait to try out the new cocoon. I lay it on two saw horses and you take off your clothes. With some gentle help you climb into the back half and lie down, wriggling into the perfectly fitted cavity. I pick up the front and lower it into place. It takes a little adjustment and squeezing to close the shell since it is such a tight fit. At first the hard plastic feels cool to your skin, but then it warms up from your body heat as you feel and hear the final few latches click shut. It is then that you realize how tightly you are contained and that even the slightest movement is absolutely impossible. Neither can you see with the shell covering your eyes. After straining against the confinement for a few minutes, you realize the futility, and knowing I would never do you any harm, you gradually relax. Soon the sounds of your breathing reveal that you have dozed off to sleep.
It is then that I bring out the machine I have been preparing for several weeks in anticipation of your capture.
Snugly packed in your cocoon you see nothing of what is happening as I open the double doors to the workshop and roll out the machine. It consists of two steel A-frames about 7 feet apart and supporting a steel beam between them. A worm gear and motor on one end of the beam can rotate it. In the middle of the beam is a hub connected to a variable speed motor. Thus by adjusting the rotatable beam, the hub, even while spinning, can point up, down, or horizontally, or any angle in between. I plug the power cord of the machine into the mains and plug the cable from remote control box into machine. I test the system, rotating the beam through every angle and also running the hub through its speed range. Finally, I set the hub so its axle is horizontal. There is a hook in the ceiling and I attach a hoist to it and tie the lower end of the hoist to the ring attached to the head of your cocoon. Very slowly, I lift you from horizontal to vertical and continue till you are suspended with your feet well off the floor. Will Jenny wake up? Apparently not. Either you are sleeping so deeply you aren't awakened by being set upright and moved, or your confinement is so incredibly tight and immobilizing that you don't even realize what is happening. I assume the latter as I position the reinforced flange on your cocoon (just behind your waist) in line with the matching flange on the motor shaft of the machine. It takes only a couple of minutes to secure the bolts joining the flanges. I can then disconnect the hoist.
First, I tilt the bar till you are horizontal and switch on the motor so you begin spinning as though lying on a turntable. Gradually I raise the speed. I wonder just how much I can do before you wake up, so I begin tilting the plane of your rotation, gradually making it more vertical. Suddenly you cry out, screaming through your air holes. As quickly as I can I shut off the motor and tilt you back to horizontal but the sorrowful sound continues.
"It's OK" I shout so you can hear me through the thick shell.
"I'll take you out."
In a minute you quiet down as I undo the numerous latches around the midline of the cocoon. Finally I lift off the front and tilt the mould forward as I help you out of the back half. I hold you in my arms and tell you how sorry I am to have frightened you. I had just gotten carried away with showing off what the machine could do and hadn't thought of how frightening it would be to wake up immobilized and spinning wildly.
Initially you are angry, but then you calm down and admit that aside from the surprise, it was not a bad sensation after all. You even suggest that we should try it again with better preparation. I am so glad to be forgiven that I kneel down and kiss your lovely body all over. I promise to give you another ride but to be more gentle and sensitive. We lie down together and I hold you for a long time till we both drift off to sleep dreaming of our further adventures.
The next morning after breakfast we start talking about your time in the machine and it is soon obvious that neither of us can wait to give it another try. You even admit that your excitement after yesterday's adventure had kept you awake and restless much of the night. As you undress, I get into my latex catsuit complete with hood and sheath. If you had any doubt about my excitement, one look at my sheath dispels that doubt. The back half of the mould is still attached to the machine while the front is leaning against the wall near it. I turn on the control box and tilt the mould-back to a horizontal position. Since it is more than 3 feet off the floor, I have to help you climb up to it and I also assist you to settle into the cavity. Once you are comfortable, I lift the front half and using the ceiling hoist, I lower it over you. As the front fits into place, the darkness closes in and you begin to feel the pressure of your enclosure. The pressure continues to increase as I go around the cocoon fastening the dozens of latches that join the halves. You now feel squeezed all over and when you try to wiggle, you discover that not the slightest twitch is possible. Yet the encasement fits you so perfectly that there is no discomfort.
I realize that you must be tired after getting so little sleep last night, but being dressed in my latex catsuit and putting you into the cocoon has gotten me too excited to leave you just yet. Using the controls I rotate the still horizontal body mould so your head is toward me and I then tilt you so your head is below your feet at about a 45 degree angle. I move the slide catches on the triangular "hatch" covering your sex, and as I open it you feel the cool air. It is clear that you are already excited, but I use my tongue to work you up to a fever pitch. I can hear squealing noises through your breathing holes. I stop for a few minutes to let you cool down, but knowing what is to come, you only move slightly back from the brink. I can't resist either and, stepping onto a box, I take your still inverted body.
Now you can rest. I replace your hatch, and with the axle of your motor still at 45 degrees, I set the motor for a very slow rotation, perhaps one revolution every 10 seconds. The gentle movement soon rocks you to sleep while I also relax for a couple of hours. I reckon you have had enough rest and it is time to resume your role as experimental subject. I stop you again with your head at its lowest point in its rotation and open your hatch. Now I pick up my favorite toy, a hollow silicone rubber dildo. The cavity inside is partly filled with mercury and sealed. Carefully, I slide the heavy intruder into you, and given the angle at which you are resting, the dildo enters almost straight down. Quickly, I refit the hatch and close the latches. I also undo the little conical nipple covers from your cocoon and your already pointed and aroused nipples pop forth. I can't resist the desire to kiss and gently nibble each of them, but there is work to do.
I replace the cones with new ones, somewhat larger because each contains both a vibrator and a tube for gentle suction. I connect the electrical wires and tubes from the cones to connectors on the outside of the cocoon. These go through rotary joints at both the spin axle and the tilting beam so that both electrical current and air suction can pass between the fixed and rotating parts of the apparatus.
Until now, a control cable ran from the machine to a manual box, but I unplug it from the box and reconnect it to a control module attached to my computer. I slide a floppy disk into the A drive and load the control program. This will operate both the tilt and rotation movements and control the vibrators and suction. I initiate the program and leave for a work meeting. I plan to return in a couple of hours.
Immediately, the Jenny cocoon begins to spin end over end while the tilt gradually changes. Even in the compression of your shell you sense the rotation, but far the more powerful is the movement of the heavy mercury-filled dildo. Whenever you are tilted to an upside-down or supine orientation, it penetrates deeper, but when you are right-side-up or prone, it slides out as far as the tight confinement allows. The sliding is made even more intense by the pulsations of the sloshing mercury. With the machine rotating you on two axes, there is an endless variation of sensations. This continues for perhaps an hour (you really have no sense of time) and then all movement stops. You are on your back approximately level and there is absolutely no stimulation. You begin to unwind from the sensory overload you have just experienced and the relaxation associated with comfortable mummified immobility sets in. You feel a strange combination of relief mixed with a longing for the erotic stimulation to resume.
After an indeterminate time there is a slight buzzing at your nipples as the vibrators come on at a very low speed. Soon this is joined by a pulsating suction as the air tubes cyclically suck and release. You are becoming aroused again and try to thrust against the still embedded dildo, but the compressing body mould makes all movement absolutely impossible. The intensity of the stimulation suddenly increases and so does your arousal level. When you are almost to the brink, the sensation stops and you return to total sensory isolation, but with a burning desire to climax. Now the rotation begins again, this time much faster than before. If I were there I would have seen almost a blur when I looked at the rigid immobile Jenny figure whirling and tumbling on the machine. Of course the faster speeds cause even greater stimulation from the mercury-filled dildo. A sudden burst of speed brings you over the edge in a tornado-like orgasm.
You expect the machine to stop now but it doesn't. It slows down just enough for you to become aware of the breast stimulators beginning their action again. Now there begins a totally unpredictable hodge-podge of rotation, tumbling, vibration and suction. You try to discern a pattern, but each new sensation defies your predictions.
By now, although you don't know it, two hours have passed, my meeting is over, and I am driving home. Suddenly behind me, I see the flashing lights of a police car. The officer signals me to pull over. It seems that I match the description of a wanted fugitive known to be in town, and I must accompany him to the station. My explanation that I have to get home for urgent business doesn't change his demand. Clearly my most pressing worry is how long it will take before I am able to get free to release you form the ravages of that machine. What if I am held for days?
It takes ten hours before the cops are finally convinced I am not the desperado they are hunting. Without so much as an apology they send me on my way. I hurry home not knowing what I will find and fearing the worst. The machine is still rotating and tumbling the jenny-form on its shaft. I switch it off and as I manoeuvre it to a head-up position, I shout, "Jenny, are you OK?" You cannot describe my relief when "Yeff" emerges from the air tube.
It takes only a couple of minutes to undo the latches and open the mould, but under the circumstances it seems like forever for both of us. Still lying in the back half of the shell, you vent your anger, but under the scowl do I detect a subtle smile? Even though I argue that the delay wasn't really my fault, I have to confess that I was wrong to leave you alone in the first place.
"I'll do anything to redeem myself."
"Anything?" asks Jenny. "Will you put yourself at my mercy for whatever
payback I think you deserve?"