Deep Down in the Depths of Servitude

I had been well into my fourth day underground before I fell apart and had to call ‘Red’.  I truly believe DR. D and the team didn’t want to cause me any real harm mentally or cause me to have such a horrible experience that I wouldn’t want to ‘play’ with the boys again. You might not believe that based on what I have already reported, but I do. I also believe those monitoring me at that moment were about to shut it all down even without my call out because they could tell I was at my breaking point.

They had learned all they wanted in the test. I have not been completely broken, but I had at times gotten close, especially at the end. In the other instances, they seemed to be able to bring me to the edge and then make a change of action that gave me time to recover and continue. I’m not sure how they knew, but their timing seemed to keep my sanity in check most of the time. Still, as I am typically an active driven person, the boredom and monotony of this was grinding on my spirit and body. DR. D was not trying to fulfil a fantasy of mine of being buried alive, nor is it his fantasy of doing it to a submissive. This is his submissive’s fantasy. I was here as a rented test dummy in place of his sub as they check things out. And to check the outer limits of the contraption and its occupant. So, after he confirmed all is well with his vault, toys, sensors and monitors, which happened early on, all that was left to discover was what to expect from the entombed person over time and how he would react to different stimuli, physical, mental, pleasant and abusive. With them finding my limit and what it would look like, it was time to release me anyway and use me for something else, possibly more to my liking and kink. I wasn’t to be entombed forever. Yet, as sophisticated as this set up was, I could have been kept in the tomb alive for a long time. Scary thought.

My monitors were now switched to both showing the top side of the tomb, one close up, one further back. Initially, I was caught off guard as to the actions above because I was concentrating on my breathing as directed. The first thing I noticed was the swing being removed. Then some of my old tormentor friends were systematically removing and stacking up the pavers. Hope and liberation start to flood back into me; I had a different buzz of anxious. They were working quickly with a sense of purpose. I was excited and pleased. They finished the brick removal and pulled away the cloth cover. The wave of mental relief flowing over me gave me chills.

As I thought, the sand fill is easy to excavate. They have this figured out. The boys use one-gallon square bucket style scoops along with short-handled coal shovels to excavate the material covering me. They are working as a team, having a well-orchestrated scheme and moving fast. It’s not long before they are standing within the hole to efficiently and rapidly remove the remaining sand. I find myself straining against my restraints, my part in trying to help free me. They had previously practiced excavating the hole, determining the best methods, materials and tools and just how fast they could get it emptied out if they had an emergency. It wasn’t long, but it wasn’t just five minutes either. Probably less than ten but I’m guessing. They know the actual time and seem pleased with it. It wasn’t shared with me. At the very end they use two shop vacs to clean out the remaining sand.

The hoist was reconnected to the swing frame and attached to the concrete lid, and it is raised out of the hole. The coffin frame is put back around the hole and the straps that were left behind reconnected. I feel the box moving, I am coming out of the hole, and I am happy, so very happy. And feel only partially broken, now. Once I reach the top, there is a flurry of activities happening around the box as they disconnect all the leads and lines. This included the power to the monitors and the lighting putting me back into darkness. Just before that occurred, they told me that I am to keep my eyes closed when they open the box lid and pull me out so that the bright Vegas sun light does not harm me.