Gromet's PlazaMummification Stories

Sleepsack Punishment

by Straptight

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© Copyright 2006 - Straptight - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/m; bagged; mum; leather; cons; X

This account is true. The names have been omitted to protect the guilty.

The night before, I had made fun of a television program he was watching. This evening I was told I would be kept out of the way and punished by being laced up in the leather sleepsack instead of watching television. If I couldn't say something nice, I wouldn't get to watch TV at all! I was in the mood for a couple of hours of heavy bondage, so I went along with it. Little did I know how much the punishment would exceed the crime.

It was about 9:30 p.m. when we went down to the cell - a small storage room off the furnace room in the cellar. I've installed cushioned flooring and extended it partway up the concrete walls. The door is heavy wood planks, and there's only one small window, up by the ceiling and glazed with frosted glass. I was wearing only tight leather chaps and a leather cockring. I took the sleepsack down from its hanger and laid it out on the floor. The sack is all leather, with a leather lining and an attached hood. I was also to wear a second hood inside the sleepsack's hood to reinforce the sense of confinement. I sat down in the spread-out sleepsack and inserted my feet into the bottom of the bag.

First the leather hood with attached blindfold and gag was laced on. Then I lay back and slid my arms into the sack's sleeves. The sack hood was pulled over my head and the face cover snapped down. My face was now just blank leather with only a couple of grommets for breathing. The sack collar was buckled snugly around my neck. The sack was zipped up from my ankles to throat. Then he laced it, cinching the cords as tight as they would go and tying them off at several points up the front of the sack. As he laced it, he pulled on the cords hard enough to lift me part way off the floor, using my weight to tighten the cords.

When he got to the section from my waist to my chin, he sort of bounced me against the floor to knock the air out of me. With each thump on the floor I gasped, and in the instant when my lungs were empty he'd tighten the laces down. After several fierce yanks to make sure there was no more slack to pull out, he tied off that section of cord. By the time he was done, I was a glossy black leather mummy.

Double-hooded and blindfolded, I couldn't see when he turned off the light and I could barely hear the door close. I was so turned on I knew I would cum if I moved at all. I wanted the experience to last. I just lay there perfectly motionless for a while until the orgasm urge subsided. The universe was nothing but darkness and leather completely enclosing me. All my worries, thoughts, stress and even my identity were let go. All that existed was the tight encapsulating leather and the leather cock gag invading my mouth. Eventually I squirmed a little to feel the tight leather rub against my naked skin. It felt so good that I struggled for quite a while gasping and moaning around the gag. The layers of leather creaked and sang together. 

After a while I found myself lying still and resting. It took a while for me to catch my breath as the sack was so tight I could not take a full, deep breath. I had broken a light sweat, and the leather clung and sealed to my skin, holding me even tighter and more immobile. There was a pressure point around my head, and it was growing uncomfortable. I became frustrated and started really struggling against the sack; rolling back and forth and writhing violently, groaning and cursing around the black leather penis gag filling my mouth. Finally I tired and just lay there. I noticed the discomfort was gone, the hood must have shifted a little, but the damp leather was holding me tighter than ever. I couldn't move my arms in the sleeves or even my fingers. That made me hard again. I alternated between lying there resting and humping against the smooth leather lining of the sack. The laces pulled the sack into folds over my cock. By squirming and thrusting I could work my hard cock into one of the folds. It was like being jacked off by a pair of soft leather gloves. I had to keep stopping so I wouldn't cum. I wanted that sensation to last as long as possible.

Sometimes I thought I could hear through the part-way open window a car passing outside. I wondered how the people in the cars might react if they knew they were within a few yards of someone helplessly encased and imprisoned in leather. What if someone had heard my gagged groans and called the police to investigate? Could one of the cars be a police cruiser coming to the house? I might soon be discovered by a couple of cops in tall boots and leather jackets. Would they insist on letting me out, or would they just laugh at me and leave me to stew in the predicament I had gotten myself into? I moaned and writhed at the idea of the humiliation.

If I lay still, I could faintly hear a clock striking far above me, like it was in another world. I heard it strike once at one point. I had lost all track of time, and didn't know if that was 12:30, 1:00 or 1:30. Finally I heard it strike 2:00 a.m. That started to freak me out. I wondered when I would be released, and if he had fallen asleep in front of the television. That thought set off a kind of fit of struggling in earnest. This was no longer a fantasy. I was tied up for real, and I was trying to get loose for real. I squirmed and kicked, flopping back and forth on the floor in fear and frustration, trying to fight my way out of the skin-tight black leather bag. I grunted and cursed around the leather cock that was jammed in my mouth like it was raping my face. I went crazy for a while, jerking and twisting violently and uncontrollably. The sweat stinging my eyes inside the hood brought me back to my senses. I knew escape was impossible. I stopped bucking and lay there for a while, catching my breath and resting, trying to calm down. I may have dozed a little, floating in the darkness of the cell.

After a while I heard the clock strike 3:00. That told me I was truly fucked. He had fallen asleep for sure. I had already been tightly tied up in the escape-proof black leather sack for over five hours, and now there was no way of telling when I would get out. All I could was wait until he woke up and remembered where I was. I struggled more feebly on the padded floor, groaning around the cock gag. I squirmed reflexively. It still felt good, but I was beyond getting hard again. I lay back on the padded floor and tried to get as comfortable as I could. The night might only be half over as far as I was concerned. All I could do was wait and endure, encased and tightly laced up in leather. I was looking forward to a very long night.


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