tagFetishKitchen Wrap

Kitchen Wrap

byoggbashan©

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Copyright Oggbashan July 2005

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.


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"Wrap this up and put it in the fridge, please John," I asked as I was finishing the preparation for the evening meal.

He opened the correct kitchen drawer, took out the plastic wrap and covered the bowl of new potatoes. Maybe I was winning and John was becoming domesticated at last.

After putting the bowl in the fridge John stood there with the roll of plastic wrap in his hands. He was feeling the texture of the wrap. I looked at him.

"Well?" I asked.

"We've never tried this, have we, Sheila?"

"Tried what? Stop setting riddles. If we are going out this afternoon I need to get on."

"Tried wrapping."

"Wrapping? I use that wrap every day for something, if only to wrap scraps before throwing them away."

"Not that sort of wrapping."

John raised one eyebrow. I knew what he meant.

"No John. We haven't tried that sort of wrapping. Do you want to be wrapped?"

"It might be an interesting experience but I was thinking of wrapping you."

"Oh no you don't! If anyone gets wrapped it won't be me. I might consider wrapping you if you beg nicely but not me. I'm not being wrapped."

I might have saved my breath. John wheedled at me all weekend until eventually I agreed that he could wrap me next Friday evening as long as I wrapped him on Saturday.

On Friday evening we prepared for bed as usual. John still wanted to wrap me. I insisted that I would wear my old bikini underneath. I didn't like the idea of the wrap sticking to my pussy hairs. That bikini has very smooth lines so wouldn't dig into me as the wrap pulled. I should have thrown the bikini away months ago because it has faded and I wouldn't wear it anywhere where I could be seen.

John stood me up by the bed and started at my ankles. I expected the large economy pack of clear kitchen wrap. I was startled when he produced a wide roll of clear tape as well.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"To start and finish with," John replied. "Otherwise the wrap won't stick at the beginning."

"OK," I said, not sure that it was OK. I trust John. He trusts me.

He wound several layers of the wrap around my ankles and then wound the clear tape four or five times. That would take a knife of scissors to remove. Gradually he passed the wrap around me. I must admit I began to enjoy the sensation as he confined my thighs. His hands passed gently over me and I was surprised how loosely he was winding the wrap. I could move my knees and legs except for my ankles, tightly grabbed by the clear tape.

Once he had reached my waist he lowered me to the edge of the bed because I couldn't keep my balance. My hands were already held against my sides and as he reached my elbows I felt that I was reaching the point at which I was helpless to resist. I felt warm and comfortable inside. I had expected to be sweaty inside the plastic. Maybe it was the bikini keeping some areas of skin clear? I didn't know.

John started wrapping across my shoulders diagonally downwards, across under my breasts and back up again. He finished with a few turns just below my neck before reaching for the clear tape. I expected the sealing of the loose end. I didn't expect him to tape right around my body at my elbows, my wrists and my knees. Now I would have to be cut free. There was no way the kitchen wrap could be unwound.

John slid me up the bed until my head was resting on a pillow. He gently lifted my hair away from my face and kissed me.

"Nearly done, Sheila," he said.

"I thought you had finished," I replied.

"Not quite."

He went across the room and picked up the panties I'd taken off when I put the bikini on.

"Open wide," he said.

"No!"

"Come on, open up," he insisted. "I could pinch your nose until you do."

"You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?"

"OK. But not my panties. I've been at work all day and they smell. If you must gag me use something clean, a silk scarf perhaps..."

"If I do, you won't resist?"

I nodded. I'd pay John back for this. As he went to get a scarf from a drawer I tried to struggle free. I didn't try too hard. It was obvious that I was completely bound and helpless.

John stuffed the scarf into my mouth. I expected him to tie it in place with another scarf. I squeaked as he slapped a length of that wide clear tape over my mouth. I squealed as he added more layers.

"Now we are ready," he said.

Ready for what? I thought. I stopped squealing. Only John could hear me.

He reached under the bed and showed me my hairdryer. Why?

He plugged it in, turned it on and checked the setting against the back of his hand. As he swung it I felt the warm air across my face.

"This is the interesting part of wrap," John said casually.

He started across my breasts. As the warm air met the wrap it shrank, pulling tight until my nipples stuck out. He moved the dryer around gradually shrinking the wrap over my body. My arms were forced into my sides. I felt as if I was in a strict corset that was being mercilessly laced tighter and tighter.

I could feel myself getting aroused despite my seething anger against John. How dare he do this to me? My anger was soon lost in the sensations produced by the fierce hug. John worked on my thighs and despite my bikini's bottom the wrap thrust it into my pussy like a hand pushing harder and harder.

I was panting through my nose as I felt the waves of my orgasm beginning. I felt as if I was being hugged all over by someone who wouldn't let go until I was completely satisfied. I shut my eyes as I lost myself in the shuddering ecstasy that went on and on as if the hugger was inexhaustible. My body arched as much as it could as the spasms shook me. I tried to thrash on the bed. The result was a feeble wiggle.

I could feel my face turning red from lack of air. I couldn't get enough through my nose as the warm flushes ran through me. John ripped the clear tape off my mouth and pulled the damp scarf out. I gasped and squealed aware that I could now breathe freely and I could let myself surrender to the sensations racking my body.

It was a long time before I was aware that John was cutting the wrap and the clear tape from me. As he pulled the last pieces from my ankles I rolled into his arms and snuggled tight to him. I was asleep before I was fully aware that I was free of that clinging wrap.

The next morning I woke up still wearing the bikini. I was carefully tucked into bed and I could smell breakfast. I sighed, turned over and dozed again until John brought me breakfast in bed.

"Morning," he said brightly. "Slept well?"

"Yes."

"I think you enjoyed being wrapped." He said.

"Mmm."

"It didn't do much for me." John said.

"Was it meant to?"

"I think so. I think I was supposed to feel in total control of you and able to use you as my plaything. It didn't turn out like that, did it?"

"No. I was out of control. I had surrendered control and with that I let myself go."

"I'll say you did, Sheila. I thought you might suffocate when you were snorting so hard through your nose."

"I might have. Wrapping is dangerous."

"I think I had the worst part," John added.

"It was your idea." I retorted.

"Will I feel like that when you wrap me?"

"I don't know what you will feel. That is tonight. Now I want my breakfast, please."

"OK."

As we ate breakfast I started thinking about how I would wrap John tonight. Would I do exactly as he had done, or would I do it differently?

I have a whole day to decide.

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