I was lying on my right side, of course, fetal position, my exposed ass at bed's side, slightly overhanging it. Frank, my partner, had fucked me about a half hour earlier, inseminated me, while a half hour or so before that he'd encased me—mummified me—in shrink wrap. Our standard Saturday afternoon routine.
We'd started out using generic Saran Wrap. But this was too thin, too fragile, too flexible. With a little effort I could break out of it. It wasn't true mummification at all. Besides, Saran Wrap was expensive. Then one day at work Frank found a partially used roll of industrial grade shrink wrap, and had "borrowed" it. Now, what was left of the roll leaned in a corner of his bedroom like a 12-gauge, at the ready.
Frank had gotten the routine down, and I assisted him, lifting my body, legs, hips, torso as required. He'd learned how to wrap me up tightly, like a Christmas gift, until I was helpless—completely immobilized. Truly mummified. Once my head was wrapped he carefully punched breathing holes through at my nose and mouth. And with scissors he cut out a triangular "pie slice," exposing my ass. He would fuck me like this, standing at bed's elevated side, his body perpendicular to mine, his big cock working in and out of me "sideways" as it were.
Frank was on the short side, and scrawny, but he was beautifully endowed. He also liked to sit and talk and drink beer beforehand, and later on, afterwards. Frank was one of those few who didn't lose interest in you the minute the sperm left his body. Before the wrapping began, and while he sat naked on his livingroom couch, I would sink to my knees and suck his cock like a good submissive and fondle his huge balls. Frank liked this, and he would remain hard up until the time he ejaculated in me. It was fun for both of us. A good time.
From the beginning, however, Frank had made it clear he wasn't satisfied just with me. He was always inviting a third guy over. They never showed, however. After he began—it was my idea—mummifying me, he took pics of me lying there on my side, with my ass exposed. The volume of replies he got from his sex personals ads, pic attached, increased, but still nobody else ever showed. It hurt me a little that Frank wasn't satisfied just with me. A lot, actually. But on the other hand I wouldn't have minded taking a second man inside me, as I lay helpless on the bed.
After he fucked me and had another beer, Frank would often leave me for awhile and go out and run errands. It was hard, in my state, to keep accurate track of time, but I guessed he would be gone for upwards to two hours. Sometimes I would drift off to sleep; sometimes not. I was happy though—a genuine mummy.
My only fear was that something might happen to Frank. A car accident, say. Then what? I was trapped inside the clear plastic. It could be days before I was found. A week or more. I would die there, on his bed, in my embarrassing state, of thirst, of malnutrition. I could see the headline now:
'Mummified' Man Found Dead in Accident Victim's Home
How humiliating! On the other hand I'd be dead—what would I care? The suffering, however, before the end came would be...great. I tried to dismiss such thoughts. What were the chances of Frank getting in a serious—fatal?—accident?
On this particular Saturday, our last time together, the last time Frank put his thick cock in my mouth and up my ass, a third man was supposed to come over. He was married, apparently, and could only "sneak out," according to Frank, between three and three-thirty. Frank paced the floor, beer in hand, as three-thirty came and went. Then four. Yet another no-show. Another faker, I lay there thinking, in my plastic cocoon. I was satisfied. I'd been fucked. From my point of view it was another perfect Saturday afternoon. I was in a relaxed state. The ultimate in submission.
As four o'clock came and went Frank announced he was getting dressed and going out for awhile. Errands. I can still hear the front door of his doublewide slamming, as he left without, apparently, locking it. I fell asleep. And awoke, some time later, at the sound of the door opening. Frank was back!
A male voice called out tentatively, "Anybody home?" One of Frank's neighbors, I assumed. I remained quiet. The light was diminished in the bedroom. It seemed dark—or getting dark. I wondered what time it was.
"Hello? Anybody here?"
The man went on—he was inside the doublewide now. "I got held up. I'm late. Anybody still here?"
I realized—it somewhat terrified me—that the third man had arrived. He was in Frank's house, approaching. "I came to see...the mummy. You here?"
"Back here," I said through my hole.
"What?"
"Back here!" Even to my own ears my voice sounded muffled.
The man came as far as the bedroom doorway and stopped. "Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed. "You really are..." He didn't finish the thought.
He came forward and leaned over me. "You OK in there, buddy?"
"Fine. What time is it?"
The man ignored me and asked, "Is this how he fucks you? Like this?"
"Yes. What time is it?"
