The Coffin part 5 Finale

Author: FRGLEE
Title: The Coffin part 5 Finale
Date: 17 March 2008

The second coffin was used exhaustively over the next few months and we used the first one sometimes as well. My keeper made a couple of copies of this clever box with the help of the original manufacturer and we made a healthy profit on our investment. This was hardly an item that really would wear out as it was so well built. I knew any owner into an intense bondage experience would be very happy with the product. The money we made went into another project of which more later.

Having withstood a week in my very snug cocoon,I wanted more,However as we were restrained by our worklives at that time, the weekends had to suffice. It was also interesting to experience the box in a vertical position as well and we played several times in this manner. The difficulty had really been to stop my skin chafing and bruising but now we were faced with another problem - the acid of my perspiration was eating away at my skin causing rashes. Anti bacterials were tried along with anti fungal creams but these were not designed for this kind of usage.The mask was also leaving quite a mark on my face,such that people commented upon it in the 'outside world'.Rubber bondage in the box was quite a battle too after a couple of days despite the tactile sensations of rubber that I have always liked. I liked the mark 2 coffin more when I was totally naked for I fit it like a peachstone inside a peach. There was only a very slight bit of sliding around possible when I was wet with sweat ...The plastic interior over the foam was a tactile experience in itself and as I had got used to the smell of the rubber mask,I had quickly become very acclimatised to the hot wet slippery plastic!

Night after night the pumps and electro would milk me mercilessly until I was panting through the mask,much to the delight of my keeper. There was no escape from this box from the minute the lid shut and the bolts were screwed in and tightened,squashing me into my dark plastic and rubberfoam prison...as the mask descended onto my face again and again and the regulator started delivering my breathing mix, I knew I was exactly where I wanted to be. The receiving tube would suck eagerly at my cock and balls,then my nips and the estimming would begin until,an hour or so later,I would be reduced to a shuddering groaning mass of flesh squeezed into the tight warmth of the box.

Sometimes I would piss slowly through the catheter. after cumming which was a lovely sensation in itself. It was possible for the draining tube to be closed so I would have to cope with the odd sensation of a full bladder that I was not able to empty. After a while we got into the little game of exchanging piss through the tube...from my keepers bladder to my own,back and forth. It felt so strange feeling his warm fluid enter me,filling my bladder and then as I became full,being allowed to expel my piss back into him...Back and forth our piss went,in and out.but a very intimate sharing of our bodily fluids..It was a strange way of passing the time I suppose but I came to love it. Eveb though I had no choice really! We actually had discussed the idea earlier so that I knew how to play that game.

The enema stuff could also be very intense. At first I would tense up but as time went on I got to love the feel of warm water entering my asshole and flooding my guts. I was not so keen on the cold water enemas though,used as a mild demonstartion of my keepers power to punish me if he had wanted. Hell,if he had wanted to he could easily have hurt me in a dozen different ways whilst I was in the coffin...... He could kill me within a few minutes at the touch of a button!. But our relationship is not about that.It is about trust and mutual respect. It is also about us fitting together like two pieces of a jigsaw.and he knew how desperate I was for the final step. We talked about it all the time,more and more. It used to get us both very hot ...I told him I would do anything not to have to leave the box if it was possible...not to have to face the world ever again,never to have to commute to work, never again to have to trawl around the supermarket on Monday evenings for supplies , and most importantly to be able to burn my wardrobe of suits and ties and stupid casual clothes.

But how? The answer came as a complete surprise to me. I had no real part in its planning but over time my keeper had begun to work everything out and cleverly make plans for my future without involving me in the planning. He had decided that he was going to devote his life to me and in an odd way I was to devote my life to him. There was to be no choice in the matter for me. He knew well what I wanted .There was no need for discussion this time. He wanted it to be a surprise for me and,indeed it was the greatest and best surprise I have ever had.....I had a good idea that he was scheming something.but was unsure as to what.It took a while to come to fruition,but here I am now,your author,writing from a box underground where I will be for the rest of my life.

The first stage was to sort out finances for the future.There was a bit of good fortune that then came my way... I leapt at the offer of redundancy from work and this left me with enough money in the bank to live without working for a few years. My keeper decided to move in with me to the house I had lived in alone after my mother died. I had no other family and a rather limited social circle . There were a few people I had known from work but over the ten years I had been there we had never been close. When I left the office for the last time I knew I would never see any of them again. On the whole I was pretty happy with this prospect.

We kind of settled down in the house,turning the largest bedroom into the bondage area with the coffin being placed on a wooden plinth in the centre of the room There was a lot more space than in my keepers old house and a control panel desk was set up with a laptop,the pumps and electrostimming gear close by.. Dramatically the coffin had been painted lovingly in black enamel and was shiny under the spotlights above it. I was to spend a lot of my time in there over the next two years. the longest continual session was about 3 weeks and I was in a bit of a state afterwards. The electro massage system we had designed for my muscle toning had not worked well and acidic sweat had again done damage to my skin.There had been a problem with my gas supply bottles in the middle of the night...fortunately the coffin mike was connected to the intercom and my keeper was well able to hear my breathing difficulties and got up from bed to quicly switch over to the emergency oxygen supply.he asked me if I wanted to be released after explaining what had happened,but I grunted the signal for No...It had been a bit alwarming waking up from a slumber to discover that you couldn't breathe very well though...There were fortunately very few mishaps like this in the years we played together..During that 3 week session I was losing weight due to the liquid food diet and it took several weeks of normal eating and exercise after that to get me completely recovered. I think that was a lesson to both of us that the coffin mark 2 had its limitations. We searched the literature to see if anyone had managed to live in such bondage situations for longer periods but clearly we were in uncharted territory.This was serious stuff and many problems had to be overcome if my dream of permanent bondage was to be realised.

I was now becoming so desperate for immobilisation and restrictive bondage I found myself having difficulty sleeping without it.I was beginning to spend more time in the coffin than out of it although there were limitations.My keeper was not available at this time 24/7 still and I would have needed sitters to check that I was alright. We had decided long ago that this was to be something just between us,never mentioned to or involving anyone else.....These days I have complete monitoring 24/7 and My keeper is in touch by mobile internet at all times with the laptop that controls me. He rarely leaves his house though.

A clever solution to the financial issues presented itself . Firstly the large garden of my house was to be divided into two. Then a single story chalet bungalow was to be built in the garden and this was to be our house but of course became My keepers house. A gift from me as it were. The large house would be sold. There was just enough space in the garden of the new house for a swimming pool. Something I had always enjoyed but I never actually got to swim in it....

In the meantime my Keeper apparently had been working overtime on the new box...less like a coffin and perhaps more like a space craft with full life support equipment.I knew nothing of this but he had a workshop space where he used to do some of his work before we met..He spent several hours a day building and testing the equipment. Oddly ,after the construction of the shell much of the anciliary equipment was not particularily expensive...as I mentioned my keeper is very good at making things with a fair bit of knowledge as to metalwork,hermetic sealing and basic electronics.

There was no rush...the coffin mark 2 was keeping me very happy indeed and the original box was still working well.. An interesting experience was to test how waterproof the mark 1 actually was by immersing it a tank,....Well, this was actually a portable fabric framed prefabricated childrens swimming pool...the first test was done just with weights in the box to see if there was any leaking or problems with the electrics. The boxs' seals seemed to work well and I can remember well the weekends I spent underwater in the mark 1 coffin.Anybody looking in from the outside might have concluded that we were both quite insane,but there was quite an exciting dynamic here of two guys both wanting the same thing but from two very different sides.

I never actually got to see the new house or even the swimming pool,as I mentioned for something happened after all the agreements had been signed for the sale of the old house and the transfer of the land.and that was when my normal life came to an end.I guess technically I have passed on my property and control of my financial affairs to my keeper. We have never really discussed it.He has taken what he needs to keep me alive and happy and in return has a home and an income.

A session in the mark 2 coffin which had lasted 4 days and was turning out to be quite memorable,mainly for the variety and intensity of some of the stimming programmes being used. But something happened which had never happened before to me in the coffins.Something was done without my consent or discussion. Now I trust my keeper with my life and I know that this quiet man would never do anything to hurt me. I had become so acquiescent in his presence over the few years since we had met but he had never taken advantage of that passivity. I think he knew how I felt toward him,but it just was never discussed.

It happened on the fourth night without any prelude after an interestng milking session. As I was coming down from the orgasm I suddenly noticed the sweet smell of Nitrous Oxide flooding my mask...even with gag in place I could taste this gas at this concentration and I knew that something very strange was happening....Very quickly the world became a place of wobbly flashes and shapes in the darkness...even in pitch black the retina tends to produce flashes and patterns of light but I began to feel very strange indeed. Now, we had played a bit with nitrous before...there was a cylinder in the green hosptal wheeled box by the console and it was normally used quite sparingly. But this time it was overwhelming and I had hardly time to get used to it before there was nothing more to feel. Oddly, although I was quite paralysed and unable to feel anything I went in and out of consciousness.I couls see things blurred and distorted sonetimes and my hearing seemed quite clear,although again very strange..... My first memory was of hearing the screws for the box being unscrewed with an intense high pitched wail...then next I recall being lifted out somehow from the box. My head must have been lollong about for I can recall a floating image of a door and the spotlights within my field of vision. I noticed I had a rubber mask over my face and I caught a glimpse of a black ballon in my field of vision inflating and deflating..... Oddly then I could see myself on a rubber sheet on the floor being washed down....then my legs up in the air whilst an odd loose transparent plastic suit that rustled strangely to my distorted hearing. Then nothing else.

When I came round my confinement was rather different to that which I had been used to. Yes,it was still dark and I was obviously in a box,upright this time. My comforting gag and gumshield was still in place but there was an odd feel around me. I seemed to be in a loose plastic suit of some kind..Then the memories of what had happened when I had been gassed kicked in. I tried to make sense of it all. It was all very odd indeed. The blackness suddenly changed to a dark blue light in front of me .I took me a while to realise that there was some sort of liquid crystal monitor screen in front of my face and that was all I was able to see. Later on I would understand this but for now it was just confusing and I was struggling to discover what had just happened.....

The orinasal mask was still there but it felt rather different. I flexed my fingers to discover that they were in mitts again although there seemed to be a difference in that I could slightly flex my fingers. My dick twitched with anticipation...I was breathless with excitement as I explored my new,yet somewhat restrictive universe..My feet were able to move slightly as well but seemed to be covered in plastic sheeting again. There was something different about my dick with a long metal tube down my urethra. My balls seemed to be heavy and there felt like there were ballweights around the top of my scrotum. In the early days this caused me a degree of discomfort,but I pretty soon got used to it as I did with the other steelwork that seemed to surround my dick. There was a complete vacuum steel tube milking set up within and the catheter made use of the urethral electro tube.

Up my asshole was the familiar steel buttplug that doubled as an enema tube and elctro monopole contact. And yes,around my nips,held in pace by my nipple piercings were the two suction tubes with the stimming contacts around the base,just as before.

Something odd became apparent about the inside of the box,for whilst there is clearly a foam lining there are also inflatable bladders everywhere and these can be used for many different functions. They can be pumped up to make an intensely restrictive bondage experience. They can be varied in intensity about my body. They can also be inflated and deflated at speed giving me a kind of massage. I know there is a lubricant sprayed within the box for sometimes there is a most odd feeling of being slick and sliding between the inflated bladders. There is a programme to lull me to sleep with gentle inflation and deflation around my head..I like the intense immobilisation when the bladders are pimped up fully and seem to suspend me in mid air in the box. the seperate muscle stimming contacts that keep me fit and prevent cramping are also much as before,but now part of the transparent plastic suit

Every need is met in my underground prison,for that is where I am. My beloved Keeper has only told me that I am underground although I suspect that the coffin is under his swimming pool.I think it may have been in the house for several months at first as he ran tests and ensured that I was more than comfortable in such enclosure. And boy,was I! I was never allowed to actually experience any off the moves that the coffin made..I was always gassed to sleep if there was anything going on...but I suspect I was moved several times as the building work went on. There was once a very odd smell of burning but the loudspeaker in the coffin informed me that the lid was being welded hermetically shut...


Inside I am pleasantly warm.There is some sort of gentle heating system which circulates warm air inside the box.My breathing is quite independent throught he orinasal mask and my keeper insists on me breathing from gas cylinders at all times. The food is all liquid through my gag and at times drugs and medicines are fed to me through the drinking tube. There is a swilling system within the feeding tube. I have to let my mouth fill several times with this astringent liquid that tastes a bit like mouthwash. Then it is pumped out of my mouth again through the gag feeding tube. I am told this unpleasant activity has to be done daily as it ensures the feeding tubes do not harbour bacteria.

I am kept clean in a quite simple manner. The plastic suit which covers most of my head too is simply a kind of enclosed shower system. Each day there is a cycle of soapy water being sprayed within the suit in about 20 different places, I can move a little in the suit which enables me to ensure my own cleansing. Then there are a couple of rinse cycles. I do not think my body has any body or facial hair any more,perhaps due to drugs in the wash or in my food.My skin is also kept healthy by small light pads which emit healthy imitation sunlight at low intensity through the transparent plastic suit. I cannot see this as I am effectively blindfolded by the screen and its attached fabric straps that pass over the hood of the plastic suit My keeper talked me through the functions of the new box after a week or so of captivity to explain things that I might not understand about my captivity.I think my health and happiness was the driving factor behind all the design add ons...And if I was happy,he was too!.


I suspect that sometimes there are recreational drugs fed to me,even alchohol. It is hard to tell but I know I feel so warm and happy sometimes and drift off in a magical world of dreams. Several times a day my gut is washed out through the enema tube. I am well used to this and love my 15 minutes sessions, the start signalled to me by the shaking of my buttplug as warm water rushes down the connecting hose.

So I am quite comfortable here thanks and the final feature has meant that bondage and restriction does not mean that I am totally cut off from the outside world. For around 6 hours of the day,3 in the morning and 3 in the evening the screen in front of my eyes turns blue and then a menu screen comes on. I have a very limited ability to move a mouse curser by using a contact within my mitts. This was designed for seriously handicapped people but makes an effective tool. I can type and thus write messages although the only person who is allowed to read them is my keeper and he does not reply much of the time.In the mornings there may be tasks for me to do. My imagination flies in here and I write beautiful stories,I am told. Many of these have been published in magazines and newspapers and my keeper has got me started writing my first novel,completely disconnected with my lifestyle,incidentally!. There is a creativity unbounded down here and for the forst time in my life I feel my brain is actually working properly.

As a reward I am allowed to surf the net or watch tv although,of course,absolutely no interaction is possible,except directly with my keeper. Sometimes my keeper has a film for me and sometimes he entertains me with live coverage of his bondage scenes,usually with inexperienced guys in their late teens and early twenties. I note he has a particular interest in chaining up ,immobilising and encapsulating guys of colour and ethnicity. These days his playroom is awash with equipment and the two coffins take pride of place. The mark 2 is rarely used with visitors though as it was so specifically designed for me. I think my keeper is a happier man than when I first met him.I hope I have been the cause of that.

He checked with how I was faring quite a lot in the early days,even providing questionaires to be responded to. Nowadays there is a weekly checkup and I know if there is a problem I can easily leave a message. My health has been fine,thanks for asking. I have had a few infections over the past few years but fortunately nothing that antibiotics and standard pharmaceuticals could not take care of.

I may be the very first man to live in a box permanently,I do not know. I am still quite young and maybe there are fifty years of life left for me down here.My keeper appears to be in good health too. He says he has ensured a safety system in the event of his sudden demise but I do not know what this is...Perhaps he has left a message to someone to only be read if there is an accident.

Increasingly the systems that control my life and my body functions are being performed automatically. Even my twice daily milking can be done by the computer without any need for my keeper to participate.There seems to be a rotation of some 20 odd programmes and I know them all so well now....Occassionally he designs a new one for me and I a grateful,knowing the effort that goes into this.... I do know,however that he prefers to milk me personally by remote control,he is an artist at this and builds up slowly to an overwhelming orgasm for me...I picture him up there on the console,maybe dick in hand,listening to my gasps and groans as he sucks and shocks me to climax....... This programme clearly shows his presence and often great imagination. It is often designed to match some movie or set of images on the screen that he found for me. I suspect he is also jerking himself off watching the same images or even reading the same story...

It is my fervent hope that this box will be my coffin for I wish to be buried in it when I die. Maybe in some far off future my box will be discovered and my preserved remains, along with all the equipment will be exhibited in some sort of historical museum,much in the same way Egyptian mummies are displayed. People will pass by the display and wonder at the motivations and beliefs if the men who built and used the coffin.Maybe many more of these coffins would come to be used,maybe the technology will progress to undreamed of levels.....