The Weekend Box

By pwnedpuppy

Our responsibilities are actually pretty basic when it comes to playing in the “Weekend Box,” as we came to call it.

He puts me in it, secures it, makes sure i’m watered and fed, and then at the end of the weekend, i’m released.  i love the storage aspect of it, He loves the idea that He owns me, and i can’t escape without His help.

i simply have to agree to a strict liquid diet for a couple of days before hand, clean myself out well before arriving, and then agree not to make a fuss over the course of the stay.  It’s all pretty simple.

This time around, it’s a long weekend – with me going in on a Friday afternoon, and not coming out until Monday night.

i pulled up to Sir’s farmhouse and got out of the SUV.  We exchanged pleasantries after i came inside, and then He said, “well, let’s get to it.”

So, with that, we walked out to the barn.

The first order of business was stripping right down to nothing.  It’s critical for this kind of play.

Earbud headphones are popped in to my ears, and a layer of duct tape goes over top to secure them.

Next, a few attachments to make me fit the part.  A simple leather hood is slipped over my head with eye, nose and mouth holes.  Nothing complex – although the eyes can be blindfolded or the mouth can be gagged with snap-on attachments.

A chain collar is padlocked around my neck – nothing fancy, just some good, old-fashioned chain you find down at the hardware store and a Master lock that He keeps the key to on him at all times.

An external catheter is then rolled over my cock.  It makes for more versatile play scenarios.

Finally, leather wrist and ankle cuffs are locked on to me — they are the most ‘hardcore’ of the bondage gear i’m going to be wearing this weekend.  The d-rings on them will prove useful later on.

Geared up to His liking, Sir walks me over to a pallet sitting in the middle of the barn.  It looks like any other ordinary wooden pallet, except that the bottom of it is covered in solid plywood.  This will come in handy keeping me contained.

Before i step up on the platform, i’m bent over and a small-ish plug goes up my ass.  It pops in easy, and for the most part i don’t notice it there as i go to sit down on the pallet.  He wants me to be comfortable – this needs to last for a few days, so He lets me get settled for a moment or two.

Sir walks away for a moment and gathers four identical square pieces of plywood.  They form the walls for my prison.  With an electric screwdriver, He screws each one in to place with way more screws than are needed until they form a rigid box around me.  He then grabs some two-by-fours and sets about screwing them in to place inside the box, working around me like i’m not there.  In total, five two-by-four blocks are screwed in – one near the base of my neck, two at waist level on the side walls, and two at foot level at the front wall.  He then installs eye-bolts in each of the five blocks, yanking on them hard to make sure they don’t come out.  (They don’t.)

Next, he takes his drill and cuts a hole in the back wall of the box, level with the small of my back.  Through it, He fishes a yellow tube which easily adheres to the tube coming from my cock.  my piss, and there will be much of it, will now make its way out of the box to points unknown.  Through the side wall, a hole is drilled at about nose level, and a similar tube is fished through and lined up with my mouth.  It’s through this tube that i’ll consume whatever it is He chooses to feed me.

He could gag me, but chooses not to.  He thinks it’s safer this way, and reinforces the need for me to be obedient over the weekend – otherwise, there will be hell to pay.

Next up come some short lengths of chain and padlocks.  i’m attached by the neck, wrists and feet to the eyebolts that He screwed in to the inside of the box.  With ten quick snaps, i’m secured and not going anywhere any time soon.

Then, comes something i wasn’t expecting.  Sir walks back in the barn and comes back with a large plastic bags which He rips open and proceeds to dump in to the box.  Styrofoam peanuts start raining down on me and slowly they fill up the dead space around me.  Sir takes great pleasure in packing them down every bag or so until the peanuts come up to my neck.  It’s at this point He pulls on the feeding tube and makes sure there’s a good inch or two of it extending in to my mouth, and then He snaps the blindfold on the hood.  i hear Him menacingly laugh.

He grabs four more two by four blocks and screws them in to the upper corners of the box, making it rock solid – and giving Him something to screw the lid in to.  He then fetches the last piece of plywood and plops it on top of the box.  It has four small holes pre-cut in the top for air so there’s little to worry about.  He threads the cord from the headphones through one of the air holes before he positions the lid properly and then screws it in to place.

As He bangs on the lid, i realize i’m fucked – completely at His mercy until He decides to break out the screwdriver and let me out.  And as we talked about, that won’t be happening until Monday of this long weekend.

i hear Him doing something with the tubing that is coming from inside the box – one tube He’s connecting to a bag that will collect my piss, the other is a funnel that will feed me at a trickle various things.  Right now, he pours down a small  bottle of water.  Later, my own piss.  If He really wants to surprise me, some beer might come down the line.  Still later, a helping of NyQuil for when He decides it’s my bedtime.  And, when necessary, a protein shake just to keep me going.

The headphones are plugged in to an old transistor radio, and it’s cranked to the furthest end of the dial where there are no channels and only static.  my reprogramming begins.

He walks away from the box, and goes over to a forklift in the barn which he starts up.  He approaches the boxed-up version of me, slides the forks in to the pallet, and lifts me up and begins to transport me out of the barn, across the yard, and in to garage attached to His house.  It’s more than just a garage – it’s a Man Cave – complete with His big screen TV and leather couch, where He’ll watch sports all weekend.  i’m gently put down next to the couch – like an endtable.  He clicks a button on what looks like a remote car starter, but that’s not an engine He’s starting up – it’s my ass.  A gentle whurr rumbles in my ass.  He laughs, slowly backs out the forklift, and drives away.

It’s in this box where i’ll spend the weekend the next three days under His control.  i can’t wait to experience what He has in store.

 

 

 

 

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