Once in the their hotel room, pleasant but not at all ostentatious, Carter locked the door and dropped the bag of clingwrap rolls onto the bed. She hadn’t said a word on the whole ride from the grocery store or on the way to the room, and the silence was becoming deafening. She knew what that clingwrap was for, but for some reason she couldn’t quite understand she heard herself ask, “What are you going to do to me?”

But because there was no need to have asked, Carter didn’t even bother to answer. Instead he said simply, “Take your clothes off.”

She was slow to respond, nodding, arms slowly reaching to pull her T-shirt off. “No, do it now!” The urgency in his bark made her arms move faster, T-shirt suddenly off, breasts free to sit perched on her chest, nipples already rock hard. She dropped the T-shirt to the floor and undid her jeans, letting them and her panties fall to her ankles. She stepped out of them and stood there as he threw the clothes across the room, one roll of clingwrap already out of its long box. He wrapped it several times around her ankles and lower calves before spiralling it upward. The feel of the thin plastic wrap against her skin was odd and unique—a general presence on her skin that brought neither pain nor pleasure.

“Put your arms at your sides.” She immediately did as she was told. Carter wrapped the clingwrap over her arms, pinning them to her sides. The wrap was tight against her breasts and, after a few more wraps under her shoulders, the roll ran out.

Carter pulled something else out of the bag, something he’d retrieved from the trunk of his car before escorting her up to the room. He plugged in the blow-dryer and hit the switch, the loud little engine belching hot air at her. He passed it over the end of the roll, pressing it down.

But one layer would never hold against her energetic struggling. A humming bird could fight its way out of this!

But there were nine rolls left to go.

The second roll went from the breasts down, right up to the shoulder and then down again, crossing the first roll and covering the exposed slits of skin. The hairdryer helped melt the wrap around her ankles, where the third roll began.

The fourth and fifth rolls began to add pressure, her arms securely pinned to her naked sides. She tried to pull her arms free, giving it all her strength; her heart started beating faster when she couldn’t do it. Her breath came faster as her insecurity rose. She watched him go about his grim but fascinating business, wrapping her in layer after layer. He said nothing, never looking into her eyes. Instead he seemed like some bizarre artist engrossed in his work. But instead of bringing human form from something vague and ill-defined, he was disguising her, wrapping her up to be discovered later. If she was to be a masterpiece, she first had to be a hunk of rock.

One more roll was more than enough. She tried to pull her arms from her side, bending to try to free her legs, but she was tightly cocooned and helpless.

But there were still two rolls left.

Carter pulled a long stretch of clingwrap off the roll. He looked at her, and she knew what he had in mind.

“No,” she mewed, shaking her head, “please … ”

“It’s okay,” Carter said with a low, calm voice. “Hold your breath and trust me. Okay?” After a doubting moment, he repeated, “Okay?”

Her eyes locked on that plastic roll, Kat nodded and took a deep breath. He pressed the plastic against her face, locking mouth and nostrils closed, and she panicked, gasping and losing her breath. Carter pulled the plastic away and she looked at him, at it, knowing she would succumb. It was the fear she’d come for—the challenge, the trust. She took a few breaths then one deep lungful to hold.

He pressed the cellophane over her face and quickly wrapped it around her head. Her ears registered the loud, stretching sound of the plastic wrap tearing from the roll, but it became duller and duller as the plastic wrapped around in quickly increasing layers.

Her lips were pressed tight, nose pressed to the side and sealed up, and Kat knew she would suffocate after only a few minutes. But she also knew he wouldn’t let that happen. But after blasting the wrap with the hair dryer, her breath was running out. Her body started to flex, invisible needles pricking her skin through the plastic as her nerves began to burst and twitch, telling the brain that something was terribly, terrifically wrong.

But the familiar click of his switchblade made Kat jerk again, her vision white with the layers of plastic in front of her. He held her from behind, his plastic-muted voice saying, “Don’t move, not even an inch! You hear me?”

She nodded, her lungs icy, muscles twitching and pulling beyond her ability to control them. Then she felt the holes over her nostrils open, one after the other, the careful mastery of a small knife bringing life-saving oxygen back into her lungs. She took in a heaving breath, her body relaxing, but only just a bit. But when he dropped her onto the bed, her relaxation disappeared and she tensed up, ready for what was to come, and who was to cum.

He pulled off his clothes—she knew because she could hear the belt buckle fall to the floor, the shoes clunking as he kicked them away from the bed. She could feel his weight push the mattress down as he sat next to her, on her back. She wriggled, but her arms were useless, her legs locked together, her thighs pressed tight.

His hands traced the curves of her body, her hips and her shoulders, and breasts, his fingers finding the nape of her neck, sending an electrical hum through her chest and down to her cocooned crotch.

He tapped her leg, checking the smoothness of her encasement, the strength of its integrity. It would hold; they both knew that. It would hold her for the rest of her life, if that’s what Carter wanted.

At that moment, it was what she wanted, more than she’d wanted anything in her life.

But Carter was only getting warmed up. He reached over, and she could sense his hand close to her face. He tenderly caressed her encased cheek and she could barely feel it. He stroke her hair, exposed on the top of her head. His big hands found her chin, gently pushing upward just a bit, the slightest bit of pressure which made her flinch and whine.

His hand moved quickly to her nose, thumb and index finger pinching her nostrils closed. She reacted quickly, her body flexing, her head jerking to free herself. Carter let go and she panted, nostrils wheezing as she sucked in some air before his hand returned, pinching her off, hard and deliberate. He waited, her body bucking and writhing, flopping like a fish on the deck of a boat before he let go again, air rushing into her lungs, her mind dizzy, her ears and eyes worthless.

That big hand came down again, blood becoming instantly cold in her veins as she pulled against that cellophane, her arms and legs still pitifully pinned.

No, stop, she wanted to scream, please, stop!

Yet she didn’t, and she wouldn’t have if she could.

That clamping hand didn’t return; Kat relaxed a bit, her breath panted,her heart pounding. But she knew something else was coming, and she wouldn’t have to wait long to find out what it was.

Thump. Thump.

She knew right away that the dull thud hitting her plastic-wrapped body was Carter’s engorged cock—rock hard—knocking at her cocoon in a blind effort to find a weak spot, to get in, to get to her and ravage her.

She couldn’t wait.

Thump, thump, thump.

Creeping higher and higher, past her stomach, toward her chest, despite her fruitless struggle.

Thump, thump, thump.

It smacked her tits, pressed tight against her body, turns to the left or right unable to secure her privacy or her security as he smacked his cock against her even harder, slowly approaching her face.

Thump, thump, thump.

He reached he face, thudding that hard cock against it again and again, from each side, hard and incessant, knocking onto her nose, her chin, her cheeks.

Thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump.

Kat pulled and writhed—thump and pull and squirm and whine—a frustrated moan leaking out of her nostrils. It all began to swirl around her—a surreal experience—bound tight and pummeled by the teasing touch of a cock she wanted so desperately to hold, to take into her mouth and her pussy. They were both closed off, sealed, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not free herself.

But Carter knew she was ready, and a swift brush of that knife between her legs freed them. Once she sensed that the knife was out of the way, she kicked hard, more to the side than up to avoid a cut. She needn’t have worried, or have bothered.

With one swift, certain move, Carter flipped her over, while she grunted and growled behind her plastic gag. He slapped her a few times, the plastic wrap holding above her waist, her fingers reaching out to find nothing within their grasp.

Her pussy was already hot and wet, ready, anxious for his incredible cock. Her senses may have been blurred and obstructed, but her pussy was bare and alight with nerves, and it told Kat’s brain everything she needed to know. He slid in that sheathed monster, seemingly even bigger and thicker than before, if that were possible. She clamped down as that massive erection pushed into her warm entrance, her strong little muscles holding tight even as that thick cock came at her, harder and faster. He plunged deeper, knowing what she could take, reading her body like a book. He pushed down at the small of her back, greater pressure sending waves of pleasure through her bound body. She tried with greater strength to pull her arms free, strength and energy building up inside her with no place to go and no way to get there.

Faster, harder, deeper, Kat couldn’t get away and she couldn’t get closer; she couldn’t participate other than to be throttled by his incredible manhood: in and out, circular patterns both clockwise and counter, breaking up the established rhythm to even greater effect. Pull and twist, pound and buck, she could only push herself against the mattress, backward against him, clenching so tight with her little muscle mound, her nerves rattling, her teeth clenched, eyes locked shut behind her plastic blindfold.

Breath wheezed through the holes over her nostrils—a strained and labored way to stay alive. But the rush to her brain was unique and undeniable, and she felt like she was getting high just laying there getting fucked—killed and reborn at the same time, becoming the butterfly that would come out of that plastic cocoon, the masterpiece yielded from the lifeless stone.

But the real masterpiece was Kat’s orgasm, already roiling inside her, once again ready to burst forth and overtake her body, run rampant through her like an unchained beast. She felt like she’d been cumming since he dragged her into that car, though he knew that had only been the beginning of a long process of creating this body-shaking eruption. Now that creation was nearly complete, and Carter’s cock was the spoon to stir the pot—bubbling and hot and steamy, filling the crevices of her body to overflow, her body shaking with the power of its gradual rise. She screamed into the plastic wrap, her lips pressed tight, as her cum pulsed through her, growing stronger and more chaotic the more Carter fucked her. Pounding and screaming until she was in tears, Kat sobbed into that Saran Wrap, wriggling and pulling and wrenching as her greater strength gave her no advantage other than the most glorious sensation she’d ever experienced.

And it just wouldn’t stop.

Neither would Carter, skillfully ramming her with his rigid rod, shaking and tilting, tireless, only getting stronger as she melted in front of him.

Over the next two hours he spun her around, lifted her up and pinned her against the wall, mounted her like the beast he was, until she was a limp with sweat and crumbling plastic wrap, falling away from her dewy skin. She fell asleep on his chest, euphoria swirling through her in waves.

This time, he stayed the night.