DrMad Max Mud Story Continued Chapter 9

Author: maxcita
Title: Dr.Mad Max Mud Story Continued Chapter 9
Date: 24 March 2015

Chapter 9 - Camp Fire Time.
The next sounds Max heard were the footsteps and shouts. He felt the ground shake and heard wood being dumped near him. Several minutes later he smelled smoke, then heard the sounds of wood burning. He panicked and screamed. The challengers banged on the can and told Max to shut up. Max was relieved to know the boys were there, Up to that point he thought they had left and something caught fire. Max could sense the footsteps around him, it seemed they were sitting right on top of him. Maybe they were sitting on the top of his bondage post?
The sounds and smells of the fire went on for some time. Max was perplexed at this situation. He wanted 8 hours of isolation, that was the plan. But inside the can and underground, it seemed these guys were having a party. They were, they were cooking supper, having a beer and planning some gangster fun later in the night and maybe Sunday. Max could not know that. Max was comfortable, surprised that it was as warm as it was, and no problems, other than total immobility. He knew that a person immobilized lying down would soon have fluid building up in the lungs. It could cause suffocation. He was fine so far.
The challengers spent a few hours around the fire, the talk of gangster stuff had one coming back from the house with some rope and toys. They tried some technical positions out to see if it was true what the books said about how the gangsters tortured their victims. About midnight they packed up and left, It was quiet. Max found the night noises eerie and a bit fearsome. He knew there were bears here, he had seen the tracks. He had not expected to be left out at night, he grew anxious, this was unexpected. Now he wished the guys were here, Maybe this was his 8 hours of isolation. In fact it was and more.
Max dozed little, he could not move, he was feeling a bit sore, a few times he had tried to cum. It warmed him up and he grew hard, but just could not get over the edge. He was not bored, not unhappy. More than few times he grew anxious hearing what he thought were animals right by his head.
Max heard birds. It was morning already? He spent the night buried. Yes he had tried to test the restraints but he could move nothing. He could feel only the wet cool clay against every part of his body. His toes felt cold or numb he wasn't sure. He fell asleep.
He awoke much later feeling his head was much warmer than the rest of him. It must be sunny he thought, there was no light to see around the covered head. He wished for just one hood. Then sometimes he could see daylight come through the nose holes. There was no light. It was black.
He got horny and really tried to exert as much friction as he could against his dick He got warm, his dick got hard but he couldn't tell if he had cum or not. The skin was overloaded with sensations: pressure, rubber, warm, cool. So much sensory overload disguised his orgasm more than once. The warmth around his head remained. Max was surprised that the sun's radiant heat would not be felt more on one side of his head than the other. He still had no idea about the can.
Max must have dozed off again, he woke up and wondered what time it was. If he was given his 8 hours of isolation, and guessing at the others leaving him alone at 2 or 3 in the morning, then, by 1000 they should be back. He could do little thinking, he couldn't concentrate. Max tried to estimate time. It just confused him. He drifted in and out of dreams. At one point he really did float and looked down at his covered head sticking out of the ground. He saw himself flying over the swamp. He saw the birds, the frogs, the flowers. It was real to him.
His next remembrance was feeling cold. A tinge of pain, poor circulation was felt with rigid knees and ankles. His back seemed to be aching now. He tried to warm up by contracting his thigh muscles. Instead he got a severe Charlie horse like spasm. It gripped him in pain he could do nothing to stop it. It took his breath away. It was many minutes before it subsided. He could feel a knot in the muscle. He dared not try that again.
He was a bit impatient, now bored and waiting for his release. He believed he had met his 8 hour limit. Where were the boys to set him free or when? He realized that he was sighing. That is, breathing slowly and deeply, in an unnatural sort of way. Max knew this sign as one the body was getting anxious, he would get cold, and start to shiver soon. Then a deeper breathing and anxiety would set in. He didn't call out, that was wasted precious energy. He wanted to be released so badly. He tried to move his head, only the squeak of rope on wood was heard. Movement impossible. He sighed some more and fell into a dreamy sleep.
He woke to the feel of something in his mouth. a rubber hose. He was being patted on the head. He only said " I am cold and numb."
The response Max heard was "Drink." He did it was almost hot, sugar and lemon and orange tastes flooded his mouth. The sensation woke every aching muscle. Max alert to the fact the end was near sucked back as much as he could. Not a lot, he soon discovered the burial had compressed his gut, there was little room. Still the warmth inside revived him. He was shivering as he spoke. Max made no attempt to understand the conversation around him. He needed out now.