How We Found Our Mutual Burial Fetish
What started out as a bit of harmless fun fooling around at the beach while on holiday, turned into a fetish that both myself and my husband began to explore and enjoy, and revealed some of our secret, hidden fantasies to each other, that I enjoyed being buried and that he got great delight from burying me. It fitted in with me being more submissive in nature and him more willing to take control, he was always the more dominant one in our relationship, which was fine with me, and I was happy with letting him take charge.
We were spending two weeks on vacation, the tropical beach setting was ideal, and it was mostly deserted, as we found out, only the occasional person or couple walking along the beach and our rented villa backed out onto the beach via a couple of sand dunes itself, so it was very handy for what was to come.
The first day or two were spent just enjoying the sunshine, or splashing about in the water to cool off, we were like two kids having fun. But things started to get more playful with Jeff teasing me and pushing sand over my legs and rear as I lay there soaking up the sun. But instead of stopping him, I just wiggled my bikini-covered bum and let him continue to cover me in sand. I started to enjoy the feeling of the sand covering me, and I found that I was starting to get turned on by what he was doing to me.
Soon, I was totally covered from my feet to my shoulders with the sand piled up on top of me where I lay, the book that I was reading no longer as interesting as what he was doing to me. I lay there feeling the weight of the sand that covered me, restricting my movements, though I'm sure that if I wanted to, I could free myself, but I found that I didn't want to and was content to lie there and savour the moment.
But as it turned out, I got to the point that I could stand it no longer; my desires had taken hold, and I wanted to work off the pent-up sexual tension that had grown deep inside of me. Grabbing his hand, I pulled him back to the villa, quickly ripping off the shorts that he was wearing, and seeking out the part of him that I so desperately needed at that moment. Pushing him back onto the bed, I was soon on top of him and quickly grabbing his now erect manhood, I pushed him deep into my well lubricated and inflamed pussy, I then rode him to two orgasms on my part.
Lying there afterwards, recovering from the intense moment of sexual frenzy, which was now thoroughly sated, I could see that he had some questions in his mind as to what had just happened, though I guessed that he'd enjoyed it as much as I did.
"Thanks, babe, I really needed that," I whispered.
"Wow, where did that come from?" he asked, "I mean, I'm not complaining, it was great, but so unexpected."
"Maybe it was the sun, or lying there thinking of you." I giggled, trying not to let on what turned me on so much.
"Yeah, right and what about the other days?" he questioned, knowing something was different, "It was sunny then too."
"Well, yes, but…" I started to say something, anything other than the truth. But to avoid any further questions, I began to slide down the bed, trying to change the subject by switching to using my mouth for something other than talking.
Thinking that now I had taken away his thoughts from what had happened, while sucking on him, which usually works, well, a guy can't use his brain while his dick is in motion, as there's not enough blood for them both to function. But my plan failed because straight after cumming in my mouth, and then recovering, the questions came again. In my frustration, I blurted out the truth.
"Okay, I admit, I liked it when you buried me; it felt really nice, and I found myself turned on." I explained to his bemused face, "So, I have this dark fantasy where I'm kidnapped, tied up and buried, and with you covering me up in the sand, it seemed to have triggered my arousal."
"Well, why didn't you tell me this before? You know that I want to know what your fantasies are, you need to share them with me so that we can explore them together," he responded, "And truth be told, I've always wanted to do that to you."
"What, you mean, kidnap me?" I asked, hoping.
"Well, yes, but more the part where I bury you, like those damsel in distress scenes in movies, though I guess that I could kidnap you and keep you as my bound victim," he laughed.
"Maybe that could happen, though not while we're here on holiday, but maybe you could bury me again sometime." I sheepishly asked.
"Seeing how you react after less than an hour or so under a pile of sand, it'll be interesting to see how you'd go buried for a while longer, though I may need a long rest afterwards," he laughed.
The next morning, after breakfast, which I couldn't eat much of, being too excited and eager to see what today would bring, I headed down to our little spot on the beach. Jeff had said that he needed to get something and that he'd join me a little later. I settled down and stretched myself out on a beach towel, and started to read my book again, but I found that I couldn't get into it as thoughts of what happened yesterday flooded through my mind.
As I lay there face down I gently eased one of my hands underneath me, and sought out my pleasure spot, pushing my probing finger under the cloth of my bikini bottoms, I began to press my finger against the soft little nub of flesh, which began to harden with my tender touches, the soft folds of my pussy also joined in and began to fill out, the flow of moisture soon let me know that I was most certainly very aroused and ready.
Though lying there on a public beach, I had to be careful if anyone should walk by; hopefully, all they would see is the young lady sunning herself, not the wanton whore trying to bring herself off because she's so randy at the thought of being buried that she's frigging herself off while lying there. Not that I cared at this moment, but no one seemed to be on the beach, so no one could witness my debauched act, that was until I orgasmed and looked around to see the smiling face of my husband sitting there watching me.
"Enjoying the sunshine again, I see," the broad grin on his face let me know he had witnessed everything.
I was too embarrassed to respond and hid my face from him.
"That was fun to watch, and quite arousing too," he said, my eyes now focusing on his tight crotch, his manhood clearly on display.
"Why don't you let me take care of that?" I stated, while licking my lips, teasing him while trying to get over towards where he was sitting.
"Not just yet, I have a plan for you, that's if you're still up for it?" he asked.
"You want to bury me again?" I replied.
"Yes, but maybe this time for a little longer, and under the sand rather than on top of it," he stated.
"Really bury me, well, that sounds interesting." I teased.
"Well then, let's get the hole dug, you lie down on the sand while I measure just how much I need to dig out," he said.
Laying down on the bare sand on my back, I waited eagerly for him to start, and wondered where this would be going. Jeff moved next to me and started to dig a hole, but at first the sand kept falling into the hole that he was digging. "This won't do," he said, and stood up.
I thought that he had given up, leaving me disappointed that I wasn't going to be buried today, but he only walked over the first dune and soon returned with a small spade in his hand. Now he began to dig the sand out much easier and faster, and soon he had dug a trench in the sand long enough for me to lie down in.
"Well, climb in then, I want to see how you look buried up to your neck," he said.
No sooner had he finished talking than I had moved myself into the hole. The sand below me was damp, but it felt nice and cool after lying in the hot sun. I adjusted my body so that I was comfortable and my head was resting on the edge of the hole.
"Please bury me, before I change my mind," I asked him.
"Sure, no problem," and he reached for the spade to start covering my body in the sand.
"Wait!" I yelled.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I want to be naked," I replied and began taking off my bikini. Now naked, I lay back down and looked at him.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yes, I think so, bury me, babe."
Without waiting for any further delays, he began to shovel the sand back into the hole, covering me as he continued to move the sand, making sure to fill in any spots that required more sand. Soon, my legs had disappeared under the covering of sand, and more was coming, but this time over my nether region. I think that he deliberately dropped the sand from higher up so it had more impact when it hit my skin. I certainly enjoyed the sensation as the sand covered me down there. After my tummy came my breasts turn, again the sand seemed to hit my flesh slightly harder, or maybe those areas were just more sensitive to what was happening, but the smile on his face as he did let me know that he'd planned on doing this.
Now I was covered from my feet to my neck, with only my head above the sand, though he continued adding more sand until there was a small pile on top of where I was now buried. He then stood up over me and pressed down with his feet, compacting the sand around my body, then filling the hole with more sand until he was satisfied that he couldn't press down anymore.
I was now tightly packed and buried in the sand. I had watched as he shovelled the sand into the hole to cover my naked body, all the while getting more and more aroused by what he was doing to me. Eventually, he seemed to have finished, and I found that I could only move my head; everything else was buried under the sand, and there was no way that I could move any part of my body below my neck.
"How's it feel?" he asked.
"Tight." I replied, "But also wonderful. It feels very nice, trapped in the sand like this, I can't move anything other than my head."
"Good, that's what I wanted," he responded with a mock wicked laugh, "a damsel trapped and entombed."
"Oh my, what will become of this poor female?" I teased along.
"I shall leave you, my dear, buried and awaiting your fate," he laughed again, with me joining him in our funny situation.
He left me buried there for a short while, I began to explore what parts of my body that I could move and found none, he had certainly done a good job of burying me, and I was thoroughly enjoying the moment. He even left me there alone while he went for a swim, but the beach remained empty, so no one saw me buried there, but it did get me thinking and planning on what to do next.
When he returned, he asked if I was ready to come out, to which I replied “not just yet,” and then I saw that he had that bulge again in his swimming trunks. I guessed that he wanted to dig me out to make use of my body. There was a look of slight disappointment on his face at my request to stay a bit longer under the sand, so I said, "Well, that looks interesting," while making my eyes show that I could see his erection, "maybe I could do something about that. Though buried like this my other parts are currently out of reach, but I'm sure that there's something that I could do to thank you for being so nice to me." I licked my lips as I finished speaking.
I could see that he was eager to try, but there was just one problem, with my body buried under the sand and my head resting on the edge of the hole that he'd dug for me, the angle wasn't that comfortable for me to give him the oral pleasure that he so deserved.
"Maybe you could dig out the sand behind my head so that I can lay back and then use my mouth to bring you off, which I really want to do," I asked.
His hands soon had the sand removed so that my head was now level with the top of the sand, though some had fallen down into the hole, which I found held my head in position. Now immobile in not only my body but my head as well, I lay there looking up at him in anticipation of what was to come next, him, I guessed. Which he did, it didn't take him too long, I guess he was so turned on having me as his captive that he was already overexcited and ready to pop.
I savoured the moment, the taste of him in my mouth, the feel of the hard flesh as it pressed into my mouth, my tongue running on the underside of his member as he pushed himself as deep as he could into my mouth, and the ultimate reward as his cum splashed out inside my mouth, though the taste is something that I can't get quite used to, the feeling that I get by providing him with pleasure is well worth it.
He tried to move away after he had finished, but I held on to his member as it softened. I wanted the last drops of what he had given me, and the empty feeling that it left behind when he finally withdrew from my mouth was not what I wanted, but I knew that eventually it would happen. Now, sated, he lay there next to me, with only my face visible from the hole in the sand; no other part of me was visible, should anyone walk past, they probably wouldn't even notice the hole where my face was either.
The moment was shattered when he said that he needed to head back to the villa for something to drink, and he moved over to where I was buried and started to move the sand.
"Please stop," I pleaded, not wanting this to end at this moment. "Could I just stay here for a little bit longer?"
"But surely you need to get out, even so, I can't just leave you here for someone to find," he stated.
"You could just leave the towels here, and cover me with one of them, it would just look like we'd just headed to the villa and will be returning soon," I said.
"I don't know…" he started to say.
"Please, I don't want to leave just yet, maybe I can make it worth your while later on," I suggested. "Promise."
"Okay, but I won't be long," he replied, knowing that he could never win with me.
He gathered up the towels and laid one down covering up where I was buried, he then folded up the second one to look like a pillow and placed this over the hole where my face was, hiding me from view. He then left and walked the short distance to our holiday villa, all the while keeping a lookout on the beach for anyone passing.
I was now content that I was totally covered up and buried in the sand, though I wondered if I could get him to bury me completely at some point, maybe there was something we could use to make that happen, I would have to ask him. It was peaceful being buried like this; the only sounds that I could hear were the waves as they hit the beach, and there seemed to be no other noises. When he returned, he walked quietly back so as to not let me know that he was there, a foot away from where I was buried. He wanted to see just how long it would take for me to start calling out for him to be released.
But buried under the sand, I didn't really know what the time was or how long I had been buried. I was content to stay here, dreaming of being buried and left by some wicked villain after they had kidnapped me. Eventually, though it was time for him to dig me out, I found out after I emerged from my burial plot that it was now evening, he had left me here and gone back to the villa again, only to fall asleep from what I'd done to him and his time in the sun.
That night I kept my promise and rewarded him for a job well done, my face buried but this time in the pillows on the bed and he used me from behind, I loved it when he loses control and holds me down while he plunders my rear hole, his hands pressing me down and controlling what little movement that I may have had or wanted, not that I had any desire to move, I was enjoying the moment too much.
The following morning over breakfast I asked if he would be burying me again, and that it would be nice if he used me whenever he wanted to, but I also asked if there was some way that he could totally cover me up under the sand when he was done with me, though I still wanted to be able to breathe, "What do you think would work?"
"I did see a snorkel set in one of the local shops, I could adapt that so that you could still breathe under the sand, that's if you want that?" he asked.
"Yes, and judging by that erection in your pants, I guess the idea turns you on too!" I replied while slipping down onto my knees and moving over to where he was sitting.
Afterwards, he left, a little unsteady in his walk, while I cleared away in the villa. He didn't take long, I guess that he was eager to start again, and soon we were heading back to the beach. The hole that he'd dug yesterday was still partly there, so soon the hole was ready again for the damsel to be entombed once more. Stripping off, I threw my bikini bottoms at him. I had been aroused since before breakfast while thinking about being buried again today, and my juices had been flowing freely into the cloth of my bikini, so the evidence of just how turned this was making me was there for him to see and smell.
As Jeff returned with the snorkel set, his eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and mischief. He held up a small bag, revealing not only the snorkel but also a coil of soft, white rope and a black silk blindfold. My heart skipped a beat, a rush of anticipation coursing through me as I realised he was taking our game to a new level.
"Ready to make this even more interesting?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. I nodded, my throat tight with a mix of nerves and arousal.
"What's the rope for?" I asked, though I already had a good guess.
"You'll see," he said with a grin, motioning for me to lie down in the freshly prepared hole.
The sand was cool and slightly damp, just like yesterday, and I settled into it, my naked body sinking into the shallow trench. The beach was still deserted, the only sounds the gentle waves and the occasional cry of a distant gull. Jeff knelt beside me, the rope in his hands.
"Arms at your sides," he instructed, his tone firm but playful. I complied, feeling the rough texture of the sand against my skin as he began to wind the rope around my wrists, securing them to my thighs. The knots were snug but not painful, each loop heightening my sense of vulnerability. He moved to my ankles next, binding them together with careful precision. The sensation of being restrained, combined with the cool sand beneath me, sent a shiver through my body.
"Now for the blindfold," he said, holding up the silk strip. I lifted my head slightly, and he gently tied it around my eyes, plunging me into darkness. The loss of sight sharpened my other senses—the sound of the waves grew louder, the feel of the sand more pronounced, and the faint scent of salt and sunscreen filled my nose. I was utterly at his mercy, and the thought made my pulse race.
"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice close to my ear.
"Yes," I whispered, my voice trembling with excitement. "Bury me, Jeff."
He didn't need any more encouragement. I heard the soft scrape of the spade as he began shovelling sand over me. The first scoop landed on my legs, the weight familiar yet thrilling in my bound and blindfolded state. Each layer of sand pressed me deeper into the hole, the ropes tightening slightly as the sand compacted around them. He worked methodically, covering my thighs, my stomach, my chest, until only my head remained exposed.
The snorkel came next—he gently placed the mouthpiece between my lips, ensuring I could breathe easily, and adjusted the tube to stick out above the sand. "Try it," he said. I took a few experimental breaths, the air flowing smoothly through the snorkel. It felt strange but secure, knowing I could stay buried longer without worry.
"Perfect," he murmured, and I could hear the smile in his voice. He began piling sand over my shoulders, carefully smoothing it around the snorkel tube until I was completely encased, only the tip of the snorkel protruding above the surface. The weight was heavier than before, the ropes adding an extra layer of immobility. I couldn't move an inch, not even my head, which was cradled in the sand. The blindfold kept me in darkness, amplifying the sensation of being trapped, helpless, and utterly dependent on Jeff.
"I'm going to leave you here for a bit. Don't go anywhere." He chuckled, and I heard the soft crunch of his footsteps as he walked away.
The world around me faded to just the sound of my breathing through the snorkel and the distant rhythm of the waves. The ropes bit gently into my skin, a constant reminder of my bondage, while the sand held me in a firm, unyielding embrace. Time became fluid—I had no way to gauge how long I was buried, but the sensory deprivation and the thrill of being so completely controlled kept my arousal simmering. My mind wandered to fantasies of being a true captive, left by some villain in a hidden place, awaiting rescue or ravishment. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through my body, my bound hands twitching uselessly against my thighs.
I don't know how long I lay there—maybe an hour, maybe two—before I heard the faint sound of footsteps returning. The sand muffled everything, but I could sense Jeff's presence as he crouched nearby. He didn't speak at first, and the silence made my heart pound faster. Then I felt his fingers brush the sand near my face, checking the snorkel.
"Still with me?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.
"Mmm-hmm," I mumbled through the snorkel, wishing I could see the expression on his face.
"You're doing great," he said. "I think you deserve a little reward for being such a good captive." His voice was closer now, and I felt a gentle tug as he adjusted the snorkel, ensuring it was secure. Then, to my surprise, I heard the soft rustle of fabric and felt the warmth of his body as he positioned himself above me. The sand shifted slightly, and I realised he was straddling the pile, his knees on either side of where my head was buried.
"Open your mouth," he said softly, and I felt the snorkel being carefully removed. Before I could respond, I felt the familiar press of his erection against my lips. Bound, blindfolded, and buried, I was completely at his mercy, and the realisation sent a jolt of desire through me. I opened my mouth, taking him in, the taste and feel of him grounding me in the moment. The ropes and sand held me immobile, forcing me to focus entirely on pleasing him. He moved slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, his hands gripping the sand for balance as he used my mouth.
It didn't take long for him to reach his peak, and I savoured the moment, the intensity of it heightened by my complete submission. When he finished, he gently replaced the snorkel, ensuring I could breathe comfortably again.
"You're incredible," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I'm going to let you stay here a bit longer. You okay with that?"
I nodded as best I could, the sand holding my head in place. "Yes," I mumbled through the snorkel, my body still buzzing with arousal.
"Good," he said. "I'll be back soon. Enjoy your time as my buried treasure."
His footsteps faded again, leaving me alone once more. The next few hours—or what felt like hours—were a haze of sensation. The ropes kept me hyper-aware of my bondage, the blindfold deepened my sense of isolation, and the sand cocooned me in a way that felt both confining and comforting. My mind drifted between fantasies and the reality of my situation, each thought stoking the fire of my arousal. I wondered what Jeff was doing, whether he was watching from a distance or back at the villa, planning our next adventure. The uncertainty only added to the thrill.
When he finally returned, he carefully brushed away the sand around my face, removing the snorkel and blindfold. The sudden brightness made me blink, and I saw his smiling face above me, his eyes filled with a mix of adoration and mischief.
"Ready to come out, my captive?" he asked. I smiled, my body still tingling from the experience.
"Maybe… but only if you promise to bury me again tomorrow."
He laughed, beginning to dig me out, carefully loosening the ropes as he went. "Oh, I think we can make that happen," he said. "Maybe next time, I'll add a gag to the mix. What do you think?" My heart raced at the thought, and I knew this vacation was only the beginning of exploring our newfound shared fetish.
The next morning, as the sun climbed higher over the tropical beach, I woke with a flutter of anticipation. Over breakfast, Jeff had a glint in his eye, a silent promise that today's adventure would be even more thrilling. I barely touched my food, my mind racing with thoughts of being buried again, the ropes, the blindfold—and now, the hint of something new he'd teased about last night.
After clearing the dishes, Jeff grabbed the bag with the snorkel, ropes, and blindfold, but this time he added a small cloth gag and a folded piece of fabric that looked suspiciously like a costume prop. "Ready to play, my sweet captive?" he asked, his voice taking on a deeper, more theatrical tone that sent a shiver down my spine.
I nodded, my pulse quickening. "What's the plan?" I asked, trying to sound casual despite the excitement bubbling inside me.
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Today, you're not just my wife relaxing on the beach. You're my prisoner, snatched by a ruthless kidnapper who's decided to hide his prize in the sand. You'll be at my mercy, buried and helpless, until I decide your fate." His grin was wicked, and I felt a rush of heat at the thought of this new roleplay dynamic.
We headed to our secluded spot on the beach, the sand dunes shielding us from any prying eyes. The hole from yesterday was still partially intact, and Jeff quickly set to work with the spade, deepening and shaping it to fit me perfectly. As he worked, he stayed in character, his demeanour shifting to something more commanding. "No struggling, captive," he barked playfully. "You're mine now, and you'll do exactly as I say."
I giggled but played along, adopting a mock-pleading tone. "Please, sir, let me go. I won't tell anyone, I swear!" My words were teasing, but the act of slipping into this role sent a thrill through me, amplifying the submissive feelings I already loved.
Jeff smirked, clearly enjoying his role as the villain. "Silence, or I'll make sure you're never found," he said, holding up the cloth gag. My eyes widened, and I nodded, biting my lip as he approached. He gently tied the gag around my mouth, the fabric soft but firm, muffling my voice. The sensation of being silenced added a new layer of vulnerability, and I felt my arousal spike.
"Strip," he commanded, his voice firm. I hesitated for a moment, playing the part of the reluctant but submissive captive, but his raised eyebrow prompted me to comply. I shed my bikini, tossing it aside with a dramatic flourish, and stood naked before him, the warm breeze teasing my skin. He motioned to the hole. "Lie down, prisoner. Time to hide you away."
I lowered myself into the cool, damp sand, settling on my back as he began binding me with the rope. He worked with deliberate care, wrapping the soft cord around my wrists and securing them to my thighs, then binding my ankles tightly together. Each knot tightened my sense of helplessness, and I squirmed slightly, testing the restraints, which only made him chuckle darkly.
"No escape for you," he said, slipping the blindfold over my eyes. The world went dark, and my senses sharpened, every sound and touch magnified.
"Now, let's make sure you can breathe while I keep you hidden," he said, his voice dripping with mock menace. He fitted the snorkel into my mouth, adjusting the tube carefully. I took a few test breaths, the air flowing easily, and gave a muffled nod to signal I was ready.
Jeff began shovelling sand over me, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savouring his control. The first scoops covered my legs, the weight pressing the ropes tighter against my skin. He worked his way up, piling sand over my thighs, stomach, and chest, each layer making me feel more entombed. As he covered my shoulders, he leaned close, his breath warm against my ear.
"No one will find you out here, captive. You're mine to keep, buried in my secret lair."
I moaned softly through the gag, the roleplay pushing my arousal to new heights. The sand encased me completely, leaving only the snorkel tube protruding, and Jeff packed it down firmly, ensuring I couldn't move an inch. The ropes, the blindfold, the gag, and the weight of the sand created a perfect storm of sensation—I was utterly trapped, a true prisoner in his game.
He stood over me, his voice low and taunting. "I've got business to attend to, captive. You'll stay here, buried and forgotten, until I decide to come back for you. Behave, or I'll leave you here all night."
I heard the crunch of his footsteps as he walked away, leaving me alone in my sandy prison. The isolation was intoxicating. The gag muffled my breathing, the snorkel keeping it steady, while the blindfold kept me in darkness. The ropes held me fast, and the sand was an unyielding cocoon. My mind spun with the fantasy of being a kidnapped victim, hidden away by a cunning captor. Every faint sound—the waves, the wind, a distant bird—felt like a clue to my fate, and I let myself sink deeper into the role, imagining Jeff as the ruthless kidnapper plotting his next move.
Time stretched on, the sensory deprivation making it impossible to track. My arousal simmered, kept alive by the tightness of the ropes and the thrill of being so completely at his mercy. I wondered what he was doing—lounging at the villa, maybe, or watching me from behind a dune, enjoying the sight of his "captive" buried and helpless. The uncertainty only deepened my excitement.
After what felt like hours, I heard his footsteps return, deliberate and slow, as if he were stalking his prey. "Still here, my little prisoner?" he said, his voice thick with amusement. He brushed away some sand near the snorkel, checking it was clear. "You've been a good captive, haven't you? Maybe I'll reward you… Or maybe I'll keep you buried a bit longer."
I moaned through the gag, my body aching with need. He chuckled, clearly relishing his role. "Eager, are we?" he teased. I felt him shift, and then the snorkel was gently removed, followed by the gag. My lips felt sensitive from the fabric, and I licked them, waiting for his next move. He didn't remove the blindfold, keeping me in darkness as he positioned himself above me, the sand shifting slightly under his weight.
"Beg for your freedom," he commanded, his voice stern but playful.
"Please, sir," I whispered, staying in character. "I'll do anything. Just let me out."
"Anything?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock menace. I nodded, and I felt his fingers trace my lips before he leaned closer, his erection pressing against my mouth. Bound, blindfolded, and buried, I was entirely his, and I eagerly took him in, the roleplay making every sensation more intense. He moved with purpose, his hands gripping the sand as he used my mouth, the fantasy of captor and captive driving us both to the edge.
When he finished, he replaced the snorkel and gag, leaving the blindfold in place. "You're not free yet," he said, his voice low. "I'm not done with my prize. Stay put, captive. I'll be back when I'm ready."
His footsteps faded again, leaving me buried once more. The next few hours were a blur of sensation and fantasy. The ropes, the gag, the blindfold, and the sand kept me in a state of heightened arousal, my mind weaving stories of captivity and rescue. When Jeff finally returned, he dug me out slowly, removing the gag and blindfold last. The sunlight was blinding, and his smiling face was the first thing I saw.
"Well, my captive, did you enjoy your time in my clutches?" he asked, helping me to my feet as the ropes fell away. I grinned, my body still buzzing.
"More than you know," I said. "But next time, maybe your captive tries to escape… and you have to punish her."
His eyes lit up, and I knew our beach vacation had just become an ongoing adventure in exploring our deepest fantasies.
The following morning, the air was thick with anticipation as we headed back to our secluded beach spot. Jeff's playful demeanour from the previous days had a sharper edge today, his eyes glinting with a dominant intensity that made my stomach flutter. Over breakfast, I'd teased him about my "escape" plan, leaning into our roleplay as the defiant captive.
He'd only smirked, promising that any attempt to flee would have consequences. The thought of him taking charge even more firmly sent a thrill through me, my submissive side eager to see how far he'd push our game.
As we reached the beach, the familiar hole in the sand awaited, slightly eroded but ready for another session. Jeff carried the bag with the snorkel, ropes, blindfold, and gag, but he'd added more rope this time—a thicker, longer coil that promised tighter restraint. He set the bag down and turned to me, his voice low and commanding. "You're my prisoner, and you'll stay where I put you. No tricks today, understood?"
I bit my lip, playing the part of the rebellious captive. "Maybe I won't make it so easy for you this time," I said, my tone teasing but with a hint of challenge.
His eyes narrowed, a wicked smile curling his lips. "Try it, and you'll see what happens to disobedient captives." He motioned to the hole. "Strip and get in. Now."
I hesitated, dragging out the moment to heighten the tension, then slowly peeled off my bikini, tossing it toward the dune as if making a break for it. I took a few steps away, giggling, pretending to run. Jeff was on me in an instant, his strong hands grabbing my arms and pulling me back. "Oh, no you don't," he growled, his voice thick with dominance. "You're mine, and you're not going anywhere."
I squirmed in his grip, playing along, but his strength easily overpowered me. He spun me around, pinning my arms behind my back, and I felt the first loop of rope wrap around my wrists. This time, he didn't stop at simple bindings. He wound the rope tightly, securing my wrists together, then looped it around my elbows, pulling them closer until my shoulders strained slightly. The added restraint made my heart race, my submissive side revelling in his control.
"You thought you could escape me?" he said, his voice low and menacing as he tied the knots with practised precision. "Now you'll learn what happens to captives who defy me."
He grabbed the thicker rope from the bag and began binding my torso, wrapping it above and below my breasts, creating a harness that pinned my arms tightly to my sides. Each pull of the rope heightened my sense of helplessness, and I felt my arousal building, my body responding to his dominance. He wasn't done. He bound my ankles next, then added more rope around my thighs, ensuring my legs were locked together.
"Try running now," he taunted, stepping back to admire his work. I tested the ropes, wriggling slightly, but they held firm, leaving me completely at his mercy. The intensity in his eyes told me he was fully embracing his role as the ruthless kidnapper, and I loved every second of it.
"Into the hole," he ordered, guiding me toward the sand. I shuffled awkwardly, the ropes restricting my movement, and carefully lowered myself into the cool, damp trench. The sand felt familiar against my skin, but the added bondage made this feel entirely new. Jeff knelt beside me, his hands lingering on the ropes as he adjusted my position.
"No more games, captive. You're staying buried until I'm satisfied you've learned your lesson."
He slipped the blindfold over my eyes, plunging me into darkness, and tied the cloth gag around my mouth, muffling any protests I might've made for the sake of our roleplay. The snorkel came next, fitted carefully between my lips, and I took a few breaths to confirm it was secure. Then the sand began to fall. Jeff worked with purpose, his movements deliberate and forceful, as if punishing me for my attempted escape. The first scoops covered my bound legs, the weight pressing the ropes tighter against my skin. He piled sand over my thighs, torso, and shoulders, each layer trapping me more securely.
As he buried me, he leaned close, his voice a low growl. "You're mine, buried where no one will find you. Try to escape again, and I'll make sure you're never dug out."
The words, laced with mock menace, sent a shiver through me, my body tingling with the thrill of his dominance. He packed the sand tightly, ensuring I was completely encased, only the snorkel tube protruding above the surface. The ropes bit into my skin under the sand's weight, amplifying my sense of captivity. I couldn't move a muscle, my entire body locked in place, and the blindfold and gag deepened my submission, leaving me utterly dependent on him.
Satisfied with his work, Jeff stood, his voice dripping with authority. "You'll stay here, captive, until I decide you've earned your freedom. Disobey me again, and I'll bury you deeper next time." I heard him step away, his footsteps fading as he left me alone in my sandy prison.
The world shrank to the rhythm of my breathing through the snorkel, the tight embrace of the ropes, and the heavy weight of the sand. The added bondage made this burial more intense than before—every inch of me was restrained, the ropes a constant reminder of Jeff's control. My mind swirled with the fantasy of being his true prisoner, punished for my defiance, hidden away in his secret lair. The thought kept my arousal simmering, my body hyper-aware of every sensation despite my immobility.
Time blurred in the darkness. The gag muffled my breaths, the blindfold kept me isolated, and the ropes held me in a relentless grip. I lost track of how long I was buried—two hours, maybe three—but the intensity of the experience kept me on edge, my submissive side drinking in every moment of helplessness. Every faint sound from the beach made me wonder if Jeff was nearby, watching his "captive" suffer her punishment, or if he'd gone back to the villa to prolong my torment.
Finally, I heard his footsteps return, deliberate and heavy, as if he were stalking his prey. "Still here, my disobedient little captive?" he said, his voice thick with dominance. He brushed the sand near the snorkel, checking it was clear. "Have you learned your lesson, or do I need to keep you buried longer?"
I moaned through the gag, my body aching with both arousal and the strain of the ropes. He chuckled, clearly pleased with my response.
"Maybe you've earned a small reward for taking your punishment so well," he said.
He removed the snorkel and gag, but left the blindfold in place, keeping me in darkness. I felt him shift above me, the sand crunching as he positioned himself. His fingers traced my lips, teasing, before he pressed his erection against them, his dominance unwavering. "Show me you're sorry for trying to escape," he commanded.
Bound and buried, I complied eagerly, taking him into my mouth, the ropes and sand making every movement a reminder of my submission. He moved with controlled intensity, his hands gripping the sand as he used me, the roleplay pushing us both to new heights. When he finished, he replaced the snorkel and gag, his voice softening slightly. "You've done well, captive. But you're staying buried a bit longer to make sure the lesson sticks."
He left me again, the sand and ropes holding me fast. The next hour or so was a haze of sensation, my mind lost in the fantasy of being his punished prisoner. When he finally returned, he dug me out slowly, untying the ropes with care but keeping his dominant demeanour. As the blindfold came off, I blinked up at him, his face a mix of satisfaction and adoration.
"Well, captive," he said, helping me to my feet, "will you try to escape again tomorrow?"
I grinned, my body still buzzing from the experience. "Maybe," I teased. "But only if it means you'll tie me up even tighter."
His laugh was dark and promising. "Oh, I can arrange that," he said, and I knew our beach adventure was far from over, each day pushing the boundaries of our shared desires.
The next morning, the air in the villa was charged with a new intensity. Jeff woke with a predatory glint in his eyes, his dominant side more pronounced than ever. Over coffee, he barely spoke, but his gaze followed me, heavy with intent. I played along, keeping my demeanour soft and submissive, knowing our roleplay was about to escalate. The idea of being his captive again, especially after yesterday's "escape" attempt, had my heart racing before we even left the villa.
As I cleared the breakfast dishes, Jeff stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "You're not going anywhere today, captive," he said, his voice low and commanding, fully in character as the ruthless kidnapper. "You thought you could run yesterday, but now I'm making sure you don't get the chance."
I turned, feigning surprise, and took a step back, playing the part of the nervous prisoner. "Please, sir, I'll be good," I said, my voice trembling with mock fear, though my body thrummed with excitement.
"Too late for that," he growled, stepping closer. Before I could react, he grabbed my wrists, pinning them behind my back with one strong hand. The other reached into the bag he'd left on the counter, pulling out the thick coil of rope. My pulse quickened as he began binding my wrists, the rope biting into my skin with deliberate tightness. He worked quickly, his movements precise, wrapping the cord around my wrists and elbows, pulling my arms back until my chest arched slightly. The restraint was stricter than before, his dominance asserting itself in every knot.
"You're mine," he said, his voice a low rumble as he added more rope, creating a tight harness around my torso, the cords framing my breasts and pinning my arms immovably to my sides. He bound my thighs next, then my ankles, ensuring I could barely shuffle. Each loop of rope amplified my sense of helplessness, and I felt my submissive side surrender completely to his control.
He wasn't done. He pulled the cloth gag from the bag, his eyes locking onto mine as he tied it tightly around my mouth, muffling any protests. The fabric pressed against my lips, and I tested it with a soft moan, the sound barely audible. Then came the blindfold, the black silk plunging me into darkness, heightening every sensation—the roughness of the rope, the cool air of the villa, the thud of my own heartbeat.
"Time to take my prize to her hiding place," Jeff said, his tone dripping with menace. Before I could brace myself, I felt his arms scoop me up, lifting me effortlessly over his shoulder. My bound body draped across him, my head hanging down, the ropes digging in as gravity pulled against them. The sensation of being carried, helpless and controlled, sent a fresh wave of arousal through me. I could hear his steady breathing, feel the strength in his grip, and my mind spun with the fantasy of being a true captive, stolen away by my captor.
The short walk to the beach felt like an eternity, each step jostling me against his shoulder, the ropes tightening with every movement. The sound of waves grew louder, and the scent of salt filled the air as we reached our secluded spot. Jeff set me down gently in the familiar hole, the cool, damp sand a stark contrast to the heat of my skin. He adjusted my position, ensuring I was flat on my back, the ropes keeping me rigid and immobile.
"You'll stay buried until I'm satisfied," he said, his voice hard but laced with the playful edge we both loved. He fitted the snorkel into my mouth, checking it was secure, and I took a few breaths to confirm it worked. Then the sand began to fall. Jeff worked with purpose, his dominance in full force as he shovelled scoop after scoop over me. The weight piled onto my bound legs, pressing the ropes deeper into my skin, then covered my thighs, stomach, and chest. Each layer trapped me more completely, the harness and tight bindings making this burial feel even more restrictive than before.
As he covered my shoulders, he leaned close, his breath warm against my ear despite the blindfold and gag. "No one will find you here, captive. You're mine, buried and forgotten until I decide otherwise." His words, delivered with a commanding edge, sent a shiver through me, my body responding to his control even as I lay helpless beneath the sand.
He packed the sand tightly, ensuring I couldn't move an inch, only the snorkel tube protruding above the surface. The ropes bit into me under the sand's weight, a constant reminder of my captivity. Jeff stood, his voice taking on a darker tone. "You're going to stay here, prisoner, while I decide your fate. Don't even think about escaping again."
I heard his footsteps retreat, leaving me alone in my sandy tomb.
The darkness of the blindfold, the muffling gag, and the unyielding ropes created a sensory cocoon, amplifying my submission. My breathing through the snorkel was steady but shallow, each inhale a reminder of my dependence on Jeff's preparations. The fantasy consumed me—I was his prisoner, hidden away, my fate entirely in his hands. The thought kept my arousal burning, my bound body tingling despite its immobility.
Time stretched on, the isolation intensifying every sensation. The ropes held me in a relentless grip, the sand an unyielding prison. I had no way to track how long I was buried—hours, perhaps—but the intensity of being so completely controlled kept me on edge. My mind played out scenarios of Jeff as the merciless kidnapper, watching from a distance or plotting his next move, his dominant side fully unleashed.
When his footsteps finally returned, they were slow and deliberate, as if he were savouring his power. "Still here, my little prisoner?" he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. He brushed the sand near the snorkel, checking it was clear. "You've taken your punishment well, but I'm not done with you yet."
He removed the snorkel and gag, but left the blindfold, keeping me in darkness. I felt him shift above me, the sand crunching as he straddled the pile. "Beg for mercy," he commanded, his tone unyielding.
"Please, sir," I whispered, my voice hoarse from the gag, "I'll do anything. Just don't leave me here."
"Anything?" he asked, his voice a mix of menace and amusement. I nodded, and he leaned closer, his erection pressing against my lips. Bound, blindfolded, and buried, I was entirely his, and I eagerly complied, the ropes and sand making every movement a testament to his dominance. He moved with controlled force, his hands gripping the sand as he used me, the roleplay pushing us both to a fevered pitch.
When he finished, he replaced the snorkel and gag, his voice softening slightly but still firm. "You're a good captive, but you're staying buried a bit longer. I like knowing you're mine, hidden away like this."
His footsteps faded again, leaving me in my sandy prison. The next couple of hours were a haze of submission and sensation. The ropes, tighter than ever, kept me hyper-aware of my bondage, while the blindfold and gag deepened my isolation. When Jeff finally returned, he dug me out slowly, untying the ropes with care but maintaining his dominant air. As the blindfold came off, I blinked up at him, his face a mix of pride and desire.
"Well, captive," he said, helping me to my feet, "have you learned to behave, or do I need to bind you even tighter tomorrow?"
I smiled, my body still humming from the experience. "I might need a little more convincing," I teased, knowing his dominant side would rise to the challenge. His answering grin promised that our beach adventure was only growing more intense, each day a deeper exploration of our shared desires.
The morning sun filtered through the villa's curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, but the air between Jeff and me crackled with a charged intensity. His dominant side had been steadily growing, and after yesterday's escalation, I could sense he was planning something even more elaborate. Over breakfast, he barely spoke, his eyes locked on me with a predatory focus that made my skin tingle. I kept my demeanour soft, submissive, playing the role of his captive, my body already humming with anticipation for what was to come.
As I finished my coffee, Jeff stood, his movements deliberate. "No more games, captive," he said, his voice low and commanding, fully immersed in his role as the ruthless kidnapper. "You're mine, and today I'm making sure you know it."
He reached for the bag, pulling out a bundle of soft, black rope—more than he'd used before—and a few additional items: the familiar cloth gag, blindfold, and snorkel, but also a small roll of thinner cord, hinting at something intricate.
I played my part, widening my eyes in mock fear. "What are you going to do to me, sir?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves.
"You'll see," he said, a wicked smile curling his lips. "Strip. Now."
I complied, shedding my bikini slowly, letting it fall to the villa's tiled floor, my heart racing as I stood naked before him. He motioned for me to stand still, then began his work. Jeff had clearly been planning this, his hands moving with practised precision as he started weaving the rope around me in an intricate shibari-style harness. He began at my shoulders, looping the black cord around my upper arms, creating a diamond pattern across my chest that framed my breasts, each knot pulling the ropes taut against my skin. The sensation was both restrictive and intimate, the ropes hugging me like a second skin.
He continued downward, wrapping the rope around my torso, cinching it at my waist to form a lattice that pinned my arms tightly to my sides. The thinner cord came into play next, as he wove it around my wrists, securing them to the harness behind my back, my elbows bent slightly to accommodate the intricate design. Each knot was deliberate, his fingers brushing my skin as he worked, sending shivers through me. He moved to my thighs, binding them together with more rope, the pattern crossing over itself in a way that was both beautiful and unyielding. Finally, he tied my ankles, ensuring I could barely move, the shibari harness transforming me into a living piece of art, completely at his mercy.
Jeff stepped back, admiring his work, his eyes dark with desire. "You're perfect like this, captive," he said, his voice thick with dominance. "Completely mine." He reached for the cloth gag, tying it tightly around my mouth, the fabric pressing against my lips, muffling any sound. The blindfold followed, plunging me into darkness, and I felt my senses sharpen—the ropes' tight embrace, the cool air of the villa, the faint scent of the rope itself.
"Time to take you to your hiding place," he said, his tone laced with menace. Before I could brace myself, I felt his arms lift me, hoisting me over his shoulder with ease. The shibari harness made movement impossible, the ropes digging into my skin as my weight shifted against them. My head hung down, my bound body swaying slightly with each of his steps, and the sensation of being carried, so utterly helpless, sent a rush of arousal through me. I could hear his steady breathing, feel the strength in his grip, and my mind spun with the fantasy of being a true prisoner, stolen away to a secret fate.
The walk to the beach felt both endless and fleeting, the sound of waves growing louder as we approached our secluded spot. Jeff set me down carefully in the familiar hole, the cool, damp sand a stark contrast to the heat of my skin. He adjusted my position, ensuring I was flat on my back, the shibari harness keeping me rigid, the ropes a constant reminder of his control.
"You're not escaping this time," he said, his voice hard but playful, fully in character. He fitted the snorkel into my mouth, checking it was secure, and I took a few breaths to confirm it worked. Then the sand began to fall. Jeff worked with a commanding intensity, his dominance in full force as he shovelled scoop after scoop over me. The sand covered my bound legs first, the weight pressing the intricate rope patterns deeper into my skin, amplifying the sensation of restraint. He continued, piling sand over my thighs, torso, and chest, the shibari harness making every layer feel more constricting, the ropes and sand working together to trap me completely.
As he covered my shoulders, he again leaned close, his breath warm against my ear despite the blindfold and gag. "You're buried deep now, captive. No one will ever find you in my lair." His words, delivered with a possessive edge, sent a shiver through me, my body responding to his control even as I lay helpless beneath the sand. He packed the sand tightly, ensuring the snorkel tube was the only thing protruding, and I felt the full weight of my predicament—the intricate ropes, the heavy sand, the gag and blindfold creating a perfect storm of submission.
Satisfied, Jeff stood, his voice dripping with authority. "You'll stay here, my prize, until I decide you've earned my attention. Disobey me again, and I'll make this permanent." I heard his footsteps retreat, leaving me alone in my sandy prison.
The shibari harness was a game-changer. The ropes hugged every curve, their intricate patterns pressing into me under the sand's weight, making every breath a reminder of my captivity. The blindfold kept me in darkness, the gag muffled my breathing through the snorkel, and my world shrank to the sensations of restraint and isolation. My mind swirled with the fantasy of being his ultimate captive, hidden away in a secret tomb, my fate entirely in his hands. The thought kept my arousal burning, my body tingling despite its complete immobility.
Time melted away—hours, perhaps, though I couldn't be sure. The ropes held me in a relentless embrace, the sand an unyielding cocoon. Every faint sound from the beach—the waves, the wind—felt like a tease, making me wonder if Jeff was nearby, watching his bound and buried captive, or back at the villa, prolonging my torment. The uncertainty only deepened my submission, my body and mind surrendering fully to his dominance.
When his footsteps finally returned, they were slow, deliberate, as if he were savouring his power. "Still here, my perfect prisoner?" he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You look exquisite, bound and buried like this. Maybe I should keep you here forever."
I moaned through the gag, my body aching with need. He chuckled, clearly relishing his control. "Let's see how sorry you are for trying to defy me," he said. He removed the snorkel and gag, but left the blindfold, keeping me in darkness. I felt him shift above me, the sand crunching as he positioned himself. His fingers traced my lips, teasing, before he pressed his erection against them, his dominance unwavering.
"Show me your devotion, captive," he commanded.
Bound in the shibari harness, buried in the sand, I complied eagerly, the ropes and isolation intensifying every sensation. He moved with controlled force, his hands gripping the sand as he used me, the roleplay pushing us both to a fevered pitch. When he finished, he replaced the snorkel and gag, his voice softening but still firm. "You're mine, and you'll stay buried until I'm ready to claim you again."
He left me once more, the ropes and sand holding me fast. The next hour or so was a haze of submission, the shibari harness making every moment more intense, my mind lost in the fantasy of being his eternal captive. When Jeff finally returned, he dug me out slowly, untying the ropes with care, each knot's release a bittersweet reminder of my freedom. As the blindfold came off, I blinked up at him, his face a mix of pride and desire.
"Well, captive," he said, helping me to my feet, the intricate rope marks still visible on my skin, "do you think you can behave now, or do I need to tie you even tighter tomorrow?"
I smiled, my body still buzzing from the experience. "I might need one more lesson," I teased, knowing his dominant side would rise to the challenge. His answering grin promised that our beach adventure was far from over, each day a deeper dive into our shared desires.
The final day of our beach vacation dawned with a golden haze, the tropical sun promising one last adventure before we returned home. Jeff's dominant side had grown bolder each day, and I could feel the weight of his gaze over breakfast, a silent promise that today would be the culmination of our escalating fantasies. My body hummed with anticipation, my submissive side eager to surrender completely to his control. As I cleared the dishes, he stood, his presence commanding, and I knew the roleplay was about to reach its peak.
"No more chances to escape, captive," he said, his voice a low growl, fully immersed in his role as the ruthless kidnapper. "Today, you're mine completely." He reached for the bag, pulling out the black rope, thinner cord, cloth gag, blindfold, and snorkel, but this time he also held up a small extension tube, clearly meant to attach to the snorkel. My heart raced at the implication—he was planning something even more intense.
I played my part, my voice soft and pleading. "Please, sir, I'll do anything," I said, my eyes wide with mock fear, though my body thrummed with excitement.
"You'll do what I say," he replied, his tone unyielding. "Strip. Now."
I shed my bikini, letting it fall to the villa's floor, my skin prickling under his intense gaze. Jeff motioned for me to stand still, then began his work, his hands moving with expert precision as he wove a shibari-style harness around my body. The black rope crisscrossed my chest, forming intricate diamond patterns that framed my breasts, each knot pulling the cords tight against my skin. He bound my arms behind my back, wrists and elbows secured to the harness, my shoulders slightly arched from the tension.
The thinner cord came next, wrapping around my thighs and ankles, locking my legs together in a web of rope that was both beautiful and restrictive. The harness hugged every curve, transforming me into his perfect captive, my body a canvas for his dominance. He stepped back, admiring his work, his eyes dark with desire. "You're mine, captive," he said, his voice thick with possession.
He tied the cloth gag tightly around my mouth, the fabric pressing against my lips, muffling any sound. The blindfold followed, plunging me into darkness, and my senses sharpened—the ropes' tight embrace, the cool air of the villa, the faint scent of his cologne. I was utterly at his mercy, and the thought sent a rush of arousal through me.
"Time to hide my prize," he said, his tone laced with menace. He scooped me up, hoisting me over his shoulder, the ropes digging into my skin as my bound body swayed with his steps. The shibari harness made movement impossible, and the sensation of being carried, helpless and controlled, fueled my fantasy of being his true prisoner. The short walk to the beach felt electric, the sound of waves growing louder, the salty air teasing my senses.
At our secluded spot, Jeff set me down carefully, but this time he positioned me face-down in the hole, a new twist that made my pulse quicken. The cool, damp sand pressed against my chest and stomach, the ropes of the harness biting deeper as my weight settled against them. He adjusted the snorkel, attaching the extension tube and fitting the mouthpiece between my lips. I took a few test breaths, the air flowing smoothly, and nodded slightly to signal I was ready. The tube would allow me to breathe while completely buried, a thought that both thrilled and unnerved me.
"You're going to finally disappear today, captive," he said, his voice hard but playful. "No one will know you're here; this will be your grave."
He began shovelling sand over me, his movements deliberate and forceful, his dominance in full force. The first scoops covered my legs, the weight pressing the ropes tighter against my thighs and ankles. He worked upward, piling sand over my hips, back, and shoulders, the shibari harness amplifying the sensation of restraint as the sand encased me. Finally, he covered my head, carefully positioning the snorkel tube to protrude just above the surface. He packed the sand tightly, ensuring I was completely buried, my body invisible beneath the beach, only the small tube marking my presence.
The sensation was overwhelming. Face-down, the sand pressed against my front, the ropes of the harness digging into my back and sides, holding me in a relentless grip. The blindfold kept me in darkness, the gag muffled my breathing through the snorkel, and my world shrank to the rhythm of my breaths and the tight embrace of my bindings. I was truly hidden, a secret captive in Jeff's lair, and the thought sent a wave of arousal through me, my body tingling despite its complete immobility.
Unlike before when Jeff had finished burying me, this time he didn't speak and it was only when I realised that I heard his footsteps as he retreated, leaving me alone in my sandy tomb, it started to make me wonder if this was where he was going to leave me, entombed in the sand, the fate of the captive maiden, no longer useful or wanted, discarded and left buried alone.
The isolation was intoxicating. The shibari harness, with its intricate knots, kept me hyper-aware of my bondage, the sand an unyielding prison that held me face-down, vulnerable and exposed in my mind's eye. My fantasy of being a kidnapped prisoner, hidden away by a ruthless captor, consumed me.
When Jeff's footsteps finally returned, they were slow, deliberate, as if he were stalking his prey. "Still here, my perfect prisoner?" he said, his voice thick with satisfaction as he pushed aside the sand that covered my head. "You've been a good captive, completely hidden. But it's time to claim my prize."
He began digging, his hands and spade working carefully to fully uncover me. The sand fell away, revealing my bound body, the shibari harness still tight and intricate. He removed the snorkel but left the gag and blindfold, keeping me in darkness as he scooped me up, hoisting me over his shoulder once more. The ropes bit into my skin, the harness holding me rigid as he carried me back to the villa, my body swaying with each step. Inside, he didn't pause. He strode to the bedroom and threw me onto the bed, the impact jarring but thrilling, the ropes keeping me helpless.
"You're mine to use, captive," he growled, his dominant side fully unleashed. He climbed onto the bed, his hands rough but deliberate as he positioned me, still bound in the rope harness. The blindfold heightened every touch, every sound—the rustle of his clothes, the heat of his body as he pressed against me. He took me roughly, his movements forceful, claiming me in a way that fulfilled my deepest fantasy of being his helpless prisoner.
The ropes dug into my skin, the harness amplifying every sensation, and I surrendered completely, my body responding to his dominance with a fervour that matched his own. Our shared pleasure built to a crescendo, both of us lost in the intensity of the moment, the roleplay bringing our desires to a fevered peak.
Afterwards, we lay tangled together, the ropes still binding me, my body buzzing with satisfaction. Jeff carefully untied the harness, his fingers gentle now, tracing the marks left on my skin. He removed the blindfold, and I blinked up at him, his face a mix of adoration and pride.
"Well, captive," he said, his voice soft but still tinged with dominance, "was that the ending you wanted for our little game?"
I smiled, my body still humming from the experience. "More than I could've imagined," I whispered.
As we lay there, catching our breath, my mind wandered to the future. We were leaving the beach tomorrow, but the intensity of these moments had awakened something deep within me.
"Do you think… when we get home, we could find a way to bury me again?" I asked, my voice hesitant but hopeful.
Jeff's eyes lit up, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Oh, I'm sure we can get creative," he said, his tone promising more adventures. "Maybe a backyard setup, or something even more elaborate. You're not escaping my clutches that easily." I laughed, already imagining the possibilities, knowing our shared fetish would follow us home, ready to be explored in new and thrilling ways.