Encasement Stories

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Encasement Stories
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Patient Name: Cucumber Age: 22 Risk Level: Low Patient Overview: It is very common for people to contact the Sternway Institute when an individual they are close to is experiencing mental distress. We have received reports that the patient, a young woman, is suffering from a severe mental breakdown and has seemingly forgotten her identity, refusing to acknowledge her real name. As such, we have sent out a team of orderlies to bring her to the Institute in order to diagnose and treat whatever issues are plaguing her. Other than her distinctively cat-like ears and tail, the patient’s appearance is no different to that of a human. Thus, with the assumption she has average human strength for a woman her age, we have decided that the standard Sternway Institute Full-Body Straitjacket is all that’s necessary to restrain her, at least at this early point in her treatment. ----- Sitting at her computer, a young catgirl was browsing the internet, angrily scrolling through photos on a
  It would’ve been a bit too obvious to place the cell door at the end of a long hallway. Blueprints had originally called for heavy doors and extra security along the hallway - tripwires, security cameras, sensors, and more. They had been all thrown out. There was no need for such excessive force. Such measures merely enticed a breakout and added mystique.
  Cell Zero was hidden in plain sight. It had no label and only a simple nine-digit keypad for entry. As an alternative, an ordinary metal key would do the trick. There was no need for obscene defensive measures when the cell could’ve been mistaken for a broom closet.
  I
To celebrate the 2-year anniversary of posting my 1st story, I decided to write a sequel to catch up with hardcore masochist Liz after all that time, coincidently taking place on the 2-year anniversary of her imprisonment. If you want to learn how Liz got into this situation, read the 1st story here:
Liz's Encasement Liz awoke to find herself sitting in a chair, stripped naked. The room she found herself in did not have much furniture. There was only a desk in front of her, another chair beyond that, and to her right, a table. The walls were all painted white, and she couldn’t tell where the door was, or even if the room had any doors. Having been sedated only minutes before, she could hardly remember why she was here. She could remember parts of what happened, but not too much. She had been with Elena, in her own personal cell behind her mistress’s office. The police had busted in, waving their guns around. Then they took her. That was all she could remember for now. It must have been for a crime so big, that it could not be ignored by them. Elena was the most powerful gang leader in the city, and when police would come to arrest her, it would often end up worse for them than it did for her. She looked down to examine her naked body. They had given her a sedative after they had strappe Imagine what it must be like for Liz. Imagine if on the day since you read that story, you were arrested and every day up untill now was spent immobilized and isolated in in heavy bondage. If every experience you had since then was instead replaced by darkness and isolation. All that time wasted as you are trapped, unable to do anything and absolutely miserable. Pretty hot, right? Liz and Elena are OCs of . He is my biggest inspiration and the reason I decided to start writing and posting my work. This story even takes some inspiration from his wonderful Asuka comic. I would like to thank everyone who read my storys and watched me since I first started posting. Whether you are a new fan of my work or a old one, thank you. English is not my 1st language so I was unsure when I began, but since there I learned that my English was not as bad as I had thought and have worked to improve my writing even more. It feels great to someone who learned alot of the language through Youtube videos. So once again, thank you all. I hope you enjoy this story. By the way, if you like the heavy bondage and isolation in this one, consider buying my book Lunagirl Behind Bars . It's a collaboration with with lots of restrictive restraints, bound ladies, and teasing. Check it out here:

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Liz had no idea how long she had been trapped in the 17th basement of the JF Institute. In complete isolation, the sense of time and space was the first things to go. At first, she tried counting the number of meals she had been fed, back when she had more hope about getting out, but she had lost count a long time ago. 
How much time had passed? Days? Months? Years? The answers to those questions lay outside the silence and darkness of her cell.
In all that time, Liz had never gotten used to the touch of latex. She still hated it as much as she had the day her mistress Elena had taken her in. Or was it former mistress now? She hated its artificial touch and the way it stuck to her skin. Soon after she had been locked away, she had started to hope that eventually, she would learn to enjoy it and could finally live her fantasy of being locked away and forgotten, but that moment never came. Instead, she was immobilized, isolated, and forced to endure the feel of her least favorite material ever.
Bondage of this caliber was something she always dreamed of in her darkest fantasies. She loved the isolation and the immobility and wanted nothing more but to melt away into the bliss of perfect bondage. But she couldn’t get herself even the slightest bit horny. She was just miserable, stewing in her sweat from the multiple layers of heavy bondage, and constantly wishing for her imprisonment to end.
Why did it have to be latex? That was a question Liz often asked herself in her isolation.
Bound in a straitjacket, mummified, sacked, and restrained in some wonderful hybrid of sarcophagus and chair, Liz could barely move a muscle. With how much the padding that lined the inside of the shell containing her was inflated, even breathing was difficult. And while there was nothing blocking her eyesight, she couldn’t make anything out in the pitch black of her cell, and nobody had opened the door and visited her since she was first placed down there. After all, with the latex catsuit that served as the first layer of her bondage handling her waste and keeping her clean, there was no reason to check up on her. 
With only the sounds keeping her company being her breathing and her heartbeat, she had long since started hallucinating. At first it had terrified her, even if she was used to long-term bondage and isolation as her mistress’s slave. Voices were talking to her in her head, loud sounds she could do nothing about overpowering her own thoughts. Back then, they spoke in words and phrases that made no sense. She could tell they weren’t real and the idea that she was really going crazy scared her. How would her mistress treat her if she knew Liz had gone insane? Maybe after Elena rescued her, she would decide to throw her away for real after having broken her toy? Liz didn’t want that. She wanted to be bound and abused by Elena more than anything. 
But since then, her hope of being rescued had dwindled. Everyday, Liz imagined Elena would come and free her from her personal prison, taking her out of this horrible latex catsuit and putting her in a leather straitjacket where she belonged. Unfortunately, while those thoughts used to keep her sane, they now acted as a cruel mirage that teased her with a fantasy that would never come to pass. The voices had started making more sense too. A few times, Liz even thought that someone was actually visiting her, only to realize it was all in her head when she opened her eyes and saw the room was still pitch black. She learned to appreciate them as a distraction to the thought that this was her ultimate fate. That she would never be free from the torturous touch of latex and never achieve her dreams of ultimate leather bondage.
The hallucinations hadn’t been completely auditory either. She would also see shapes in all sorts of colors appear in front of her. Like the voices, they had first been random, but eventually, she started seeing things she recognized and made up stories about them to pass the time.
Liz didn’t know how long it had been since she started her sentence for a murder she didn’t commit, but it felt like a long time, even when she considered she was trapped in bondage and isolation for the whole duration. And while it had been worn down by all the time she had spent in isolation, the deep hope within her that her mistress would return and rescue her still remained.
As Liz kept hoping, her foul-tasting liquid meal started pouring through her gag and she was forced to drink it up and swallow it down. Unlike the latex, she had gotten used to the taste. She still didn’t like it, but she didn’t hate it as much as before. Eventually, her meal ended and she was back to pure isolation. There was nothing to hear, nothing to see, nothing but the rubber of her gag to taste, and the smell and touch of latex taking over her other senses.
It was pure torture. She wallowed in despair and misery. It would have turned her on in the past, but not now.
Liz didn’t know when it was when she heard a noise that sounded like metal grinding against metal. Her last meal could have happened minutes or hours before. She initially dismissed the sound as being one of her many hallucinations, but soon after, she was suddenly blinded by an intense light. With how long she had spent in darkness, it took her eyes several seconds to adjust to the light. As they did, she noticed the door to her cell was opened, allowing light from the hallway to pour into her cell.
What was happening? Were the nurses just checking up on her? 
She started hearing footsteps that only got louder as time went on and silhouettes began appearing in the doorway. With how used to isolation she was, the sound and light was really disorienting. As her eyes continued adjusting to the brightness, Liz began to recognize one of the silhouettes. 
Her red hair was unmistakable. Liz’s heart jumped for joy. It was Elena.
On either side of her were two nurses from the JF Institute, probably different from the ones who had imprisoned her, but Liz wasn’t sure. Everything from before she had been locked away in the Institute felt like it happened so long ago. Besides, Liz didn’t care; the thing she had been holding out hope for was finally happening.
Tears were rolling down her face as Elena approached. “MMMMPPPPHHHHHHHMMMMMMNNNNN!!!” Liz exclaimed, finally addressing her mistress after so long. She had no idea if Elena could even hear her because of her gag, but she didn’t care.
Soon she would be free from the metal shell. The leather sack encasing her would be removed, the tape would be cut from her body, her straitjacket would be undone and, finally, the latex catsuit would be taken off. And who knew what would happen after that? Liz had many fantasies about what Elena would do to her once she was out of her bondage. Maybe she could keep the straitjacket and sack? It would be such a shame for those to go to waste. Her eyes rolled back into her head as her thoughts turned her on.
She expected to hear the metal mask unlock any second now, followed by the metal shell restraining her body, but instead, she just watched as her mistress climbed on top of her sarcophagus and straddled it. Elena reached a hand forward and started caressing the part of the mask that covered her cheek. 
What was her mistress doing? Wasn’t Elena here to rescue her? Why weren’t the nurses doing anything?
“Oh, Liz, you look so cute inside that thing,” Elena cooed as she leaned her body forward, pushing her sizable breasts against Liz’s coffin. Liz couldn’t look down, but she imagined what Elena’s impressive cleavage looked like. She imagined that the padding was actually Elena’s body pressing against hers. “It’s been a long time since you last saw me… or anyone else for that matter.”
Then Elena laughed; a sultry seductive chuckle that made Liz’s insides twist in fear. “It’s actually the two-year anniversary of the day you were first locked up, so I thought it would be a good time to visit you, and tell you about everything that happened.”
“You see, Liz, I got tired of you,” Elena explained. “You disappointed me. I’ll admit you were fun for a couple years, but not anymore. I have a new slave now. I won’t tell you anything about her, because honestly, you don’t deserve to know anything. All you deserve is to spend the rest of your life locked away here. Immobilized and isolated.”
“Mmmmmhh!” Liz screamed, her eyes filling with horror as she could not even look away from her former mistress.
“Oh? Did you really think I was here to release you?” Elena taunted. “Hahaha. Pathetic. Of course, you always were a pathetic little slut. I was planning to just suffocate you with a plastic bag and throw you in some landfill, but then I realized that is exactly what you were expecting. That’s what you wanted, and you need to understand Liz, if someone displeases me like you did, I’m not going to give them what they want.”
Liz started struggling against her bindings. The idea of freedom being so close to her yet still being denied it made her even more desperate to get out. Her struggles accomplished as much as they did for the past 2 years: nothing. The layers of bondage prevented her from moving even an inch. 
“Framing you for that murder was the perfect opportunity to get rid of you. You wanted to be bound in isolation so much, and now you are. I know how much you hate latex, so you must be absolutely miserable in there. I decided that, instead of a quick death, you’re going to spend the rest of your life suffering in the substance you hate most. Because I want you to suffer, Liz. It’s all a horny bitch like you is good for. This is exactly what you deserve.”
Liz kept screaming as Elena started grinding against the sarcophagus, taking in the fear and pain her former slave was feeling with glee. Eventually, she let out a short moan as her eyes rolled back into her head, before turning her attention back to the immobilized girl she was sitting on.
“That was amazing. Even like this, you’re still good at pleasing me,” Elena sighed as she looked Liz right in the eyes. “That’s probably the last orgasm you’ll ever give me. You’re never going to get out of here and you don’t deserve to be visited by anyone. You won’t be granted even the slightest bit of freedom in there. All you’re going to do is suffer because I want you to. I’ll be sure to think back on you fondly while I’m having fun with your replacement.” 
Then, to put even more salt on her emotional wounds, she added, “She’s way better than you.” 
With that, Elena got off the coffin and casually strolled out of the cell, all while Liz kept futilely screaming her name, begging her to take her back. But Elena either ignored her or her cries were completely silenced by the bondage. The door closed with a loud thunk which soon faded away, returning Liz to isolation.
The realization that Elena had disposed of her hit her hard. Her Goddess had rejected her and cast her down into her own personal hell for all eternity. She would be forced to spend the rest of her life in constant misery, unable to enjoy the situation she always dreamed of. There was so much she wanted to say, but gagged and trapped in a soundproof room, she couldn’t say anything. No one would hear her screams or her sobs.
Liz opened her eyes back up to the familiar darkness. When she blinked, she could feel her eyes wet with tears. The memory of Elena abandoning her was still fresh in her mind, but it all felt hazy to the isolated prisoner.
Had it just been one of her hallucinations? Or maybe it was a nightmare? Elena would never really throw her away like that, would she?
There was no way Elena would do this to her! She loved Liz, even if she saw her as a slave and considered her to be no better than trash. It was just because she was so scared of Elena throwing her away that it was making her imagine things. She had to have faith in her mistress. Elena was going to come back for her someday and free her. And Liz would be all hers again.
I have one question. Where do I sign up?


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Preview — SKINTIGHT STORY 8
by Polly Gloss




A story of cross-dressing, tights/pantyhose encasement and the betrayal of their long-term partners. 'I stood at the door in my double layered black tights, under a black long sleeved spandex leotard, a tight gold Lycra mini skirt, my heels and my stocking face under my copper wig. I put one heel against the door and looked at him devilishly. I felt and looked ravaging. I
A story of cross-dressing, tights/pantyhose encasement and the betrayal of their long-term partners. 'I stood at the door in my double layered black tights, under a black long sleeved spandex leotard, a tight gold Lycra mini skirt, my heels and my stocking face under my copper wig. I put one heel against the door and looked at him devilishly. I felt and looked ravaging. I could hardly take my eyes off Joxie... I stepped over, smiled, took a glossy stocking and encased Joxie's head in it. We kissed a few sensual pecks, nylon on nylon before we settled into a long passionate smooch, our mouths opening and closing, nylon caressing nylon...' Just for starters...
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Published
May 5th 2016
by GlossFic



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Mateo Askaripour is a Brooklyn-based writer whose first novel, Black Buck—which Colson Whitehead calls a “mesmerizing novel, executing a...
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