Yvonne

“Goodbye, dear.  I’ll see you this evening.”

Standing in the doorway, Yvonne watched as George, her husband, climbed into his car.  Smiling, he waved, then backed out of the drive.  Yvonne returned the wave, watching as his car vanished down the road.  Then, her smile becoming a grin, she closed the door.

Finally!  Closing the door, Yvonne rushed to the bedroom.  Once inside, she slipped off her robe and examined herself in the mirror.

Yvonne had always been proud of her body.  With her long legs, firm ass, and large, firm breasts, she’d been told she had the body of a woman several years younger than her own mid-40’s.  As for George, he couldn’t get enough of her, and their lovemaking now was every bit as intense and satisfying as it had been on their honeymoon, several years before.  George provided for all her body’s needs.  Well, all but one, and even there, he’d given her the means to satisfy her desires.

With a smile for her reflection, Yvonne turned and hurried out the back door.  With the high fence that surrounded the yard, she could, and often did, roam in back of the house nude, with no worries about being seen by the neighbors.

Moving quickly, Yvonne entered a shed that sat to one side of the rear patio.  This was George’s shop.  Since he was a teenager, George had been fascinated by plastics, and he’d collected some very memorable items from the history of the plastics industry.  One, in particular, had become the tool for Yvonne’s desires.

Leaving the door open, Yvonne moved to the rear of the shed.  There, standing in an open space, stood an old wrapping machine.  George had bought it at an auction when a local factory updated their equipment.  And, being George, he’d made sure it was in perfect working order.  It was one of his prized possessions, and he never realized that Yvonne had made some modifications of her own.

Now, shivering in anticipation, Yvonne carefully checked all the settings on the machine.  George did like to play with it now and then, and it made sense to ensure that he hadn’t changed anything.  Satisfied that all was set properly, Yvonne reached into a nearby box.

“Damn!”  Frustrated, Yvonne waved her hand inside the empty box, as if hoping the contents would reappear by magic.  Out of wrap, now what?  Then she smiled, remembering something.  She rushed to the front of the shop.

There it was!  Grinning, Yvonne opened the box and removed a partial roll of wrap.  George had brought this home last Friday.  It was a very special kind of wrap, he’d told her, though her memories of the details were a bit fuzzy.  Not that it mattered.  It was wrap, and that was all that mattered.

Moving back to the machine, she loaded the roll into place, then fed the wrap through the rollers, making sure to feed it through the tensioner.  Advancing the machine until the roll was at the bottom of it’s travel limit, she stepped carefully onto the platform, then reached down and grasped the end of the plastic, feeding it carefully around her ankles.

This was the one need George couldn’t, or wouldn’t, satisfy.  Yvonne craved helplessness, and, over the years, that craving had centered around being tightly wrapped.  George sometimes teased her about it, saying she’d only married him to get a free supply of plastic to wrap herself in.  Which wasn’t true, of course, but it did make a very nice fringe benefit.

Now, standing straight, Yvonne pushed the start button, causing the platform to begin rotating.  As it turned, her rotating body pulled on the plastic, drawing it off the wrap.  The tensioner kept the plastic as a constant degree of tautness as the roll began to glide slowly upwards along it’s track.

One of the modifications Yvonne had made was to the speed of the platform’s rotation, slowing it down so she could stand comfortably without risk of losing her balance.  It also allowed for a more thorough wrapping job.

Now, hands at her sides, she stood patiently, watching as the wrap slowly moved up her legs, sealing them into a single column.  It wasn’t really as tight as she might have liked, but she did have to allow some leeway for her eventual escape.  All in all, she thought, watching the plastic approach her waist, it was a fair tradeoff.

Slowly, the plastic climbed up her body, wrapping her arms to her sides.  As it reached her shoulders, she tensed slightly.  No matter how often she did this, this part always made her a bit nervous.  As usual, though, the wrap covered her neck not too tightly, then continued to climb.  Part of the next wrap caught her chin, causing the bottom of the plastic to curve inward, coating the underside.  The next wrap covered her lips.

As programmed, the wrap stopped climbing there, making two full turns over her mouth before beginning to descend once more.  Just above her knees, the roll ran out, and she stood patiently until the roll had finished its descent and the machine shut down.

Experimentally, she flexed her hands under the wrap, deciding that, when she was ready, she’d have no trouble bringing the edges of her nails to bear on the plastic.  Once she did that, she knew, it wouldn’t take her long to cut through, allowing herself, after a bit of very fun struggle, to get free.

Now, happy in the feeling of being wrapped, she hopped carefully down from the platform.  Taking slow, short hops, she worked her way to the front of the shop, then out onto the patio.  Another series of hops brought her to the chaise lounge just outside the back door.  Bending carefully, she lowered herself as much as she could, then simply let herself fall the rest of the way.  Some careful squirming soon had her stretched out on her back, nearly helpless, and ready to enjoy the sensation.

For a while, she fantasized about being prisoner to an Egyptian priest, who looked suspiciously like George in a loincloth.  Writhing sensually, she pleaded with her eyes to her imaginary captor, struggling (not too much, though) to free herself.  As usual, she could feel the moisture begin to form between her thighs, captured, as she was, by the plastic that held her.

Soon, though, she became drowsy, laying in the shade as she was.  Her eyes drifted closed, and her fantasy drifted into a dream.  In the dream, she lay in her bed, George’s arms wrapped around her, listening to him talk excitedly about the new wrap his company had developed.  At the time, basking in the afterglow of lovemaking, she hadn’t really paid attention, but now, in this dream, the words came back to her.

“You see, hon,” she now heard him say, “regular wrap protects items from dirt, dust, things like that, and it holds a load together, but it offers no protection from damage if something hit’s the load.  For boxes, books, things like that, its fine.  But for more fragile items, it could be better.  And that’s what we’ve done.  We’ve made it better.

“You see, this new plastic has a couple special properties, both brought on by the application of heat.  First, it shrinks slightly, conforming to the shape of the object wrapped.  But there’s already plastic out there that does that.  It’s the second property that makes this plastic really special.

“The shrinking, actually, is only a byproduct of the other thing the plastic does.  It hardens, going from a flexible film to a tough, clear shell.  It encases the object, protecting it from damage while in transit.  Then, once it arrives, the plastic can be hit with a special ultraviolet light, which causes it to soften up again.  This allows the plastic to be cut from around the item.”

Yvonne had listened, not really impressed at the time.  Now, however, her dreaming mind began sounding warning bells that slowly drove her toward consciousness.  Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Sunlight!  As she slept, the sun had advanced across the sky, and she now lay in its full light.  Its full, hot light, she thought.  Already, the plastic had tightened, pinning her palms flat to her sides.  Even as she began to struggle, she felt it tighten a bit more, stealing away any slight motion she might have been allowed before.

“Noooo!” she tried to scream, but the plastic had shrunk about her face as well, conforming to the shape of her lips, her chin, sealing her mouth closed and allowing only a humming sound to emerge.  Desperately, she threw herself from side to side, eventually managing to roll part way over.  For a moment, she hung there, then her roll continued, carrying her off the chaise lounge to land on the patio surface.

Almost immediately, she realized her mistake.  The one part of the plastic that hadn’t been exposed to the sun’s heat was that covering the back of her body.  Now, lying face down on the ground, she felt the heat against her ass, felt the plastic shrink yet again.  Frantically, she threw herself one way, then the other, finally managing to roll over onto her back again.  But by then, it was too late.  For long moments, she struggled, then slumped in defeat.

* * * * *

“Honey, I’m home.”  Closing the door, George glanced around.  “Yvonne?”  Puzzled, he looked through the house with no sign of her.  Finally, he glanced out the sliding rear doors.  The sight that met his eyes quickly sent him rushing out to the patio.

Moving quickly, he knelt beside his helpless wife.  Eyes wide, she hummed up at him as his gaze traveled the length of her body, totally naked, yet totally covered.

He couldn’t believe it.  From ankles to just below her nose, his beautiful wife was now encased in a solid plastic shell.  In shrinking, the plastic had conformed to every curve, even her mound was faithfully outlined, as well as the buds of her hardened nipples.  Mesmerized, he ran his hands slowly along the smooth surface, until her continued humming brought his eyes back to meet hers.

“Been playing with the wrapper again, I see,” he said, watching as her eyes widened.  “Yes, dear, I know you’ve been wrapping yourself while I’m at work.  Why else would I keep running out of wrap?”  Yvonne blushed, causing George to smile.  Rocking back, he ran one finger over her encased breasts.

“You know,” he mused, “I’ve never really understood your love for this.  Right now, though, I have to admit, you look damn good.  I’m almost tempted to leave you like this.”

Yvonne hummed frantically, and, through the plastic, George could see the play of her muscles as she fought against the wrapping.  Finally, she slumped in defeat.

“I’ll tell you what,” George said.  “I’ll run back to work and grab the special light.  I’ll bring it home and get you out of there.  But I’ll only do it on one condition.  And I’ll only tell you that condition once you’re out.  Now, hum once for yes, or twice for no.”

* * * * *

“Let’s see how desert is coming, shall we?”  Dipping a finger, George then brought it to his mouth.  “Hmmm, cooking nicely, I’d say.  Maybe another hour or two, and it should be ready.”

Yvonne hummed in frustration.  Once again, she lay encased in clear plastic.  This time, however, George had wrapped her himself.  And this time, he’d made some changes.

This time, she lay on their bed, feet wide apart, each leg individually wrapped.  A hole in the plastic left her crotch uncovered.  And while the plastic faithfully covered the mounds of her breasts, two more holes allowed the hardened buds of her nipples to poke through.  As before, her hands were pinned to her sides, her lips sealed shut.

Damn him, she thought.  The plastic held her so tightly, so securely, she couldn’t even squirm.  She could only lay there, stiff and helpless.  Every now and then, George would stroke her pussy, play with her nipples, bringing her right to the edge of orgasm, before leaving her to putter around the house.

By now, Yvonne had no idea how long she’d lain here helpless, or how many times he’d brought her so close, only to leave her hanging.  Eventually, she knew, he’d fuck her.  When he did, she knew, her orgasm would put anything she’d ever felt before to shame.  Humming her need, she could only hope it would be soon, though his talk of another hour or two didn’t make that seem likely.

Damn him, she thought again.  More helpless than she’d ever dreamed before, hornier than she’d ever thought possible, right now she hated him, yet loved him more than ever.

Now, if I’m really lucky, she thought, watching him leave the room yet again, when he’s done, and it’s time to let me out, the damn light won’t work.

28.01.11