As kids, my friends and I would play ‘Hide and Go Seek’ around the neighborhood. The object of course was to find somewhere that was the perfect hiding place where nobody could find us. Our newest neighbor had just moved in and had purchased two shiny new garbage cans with lids next to a telephone pole. I opened up one of the lids and saw that it was just the right size for me to get into. I climbed in and pulled the lid on top.
I kept quiet and waited until the kid down the street who was trying to find us had passed by. Well, he didn’t right away and instead he climbed up on top of the can, holding onto the pole. The lid crunched down from his weight. Still not trying to make any noise, I waited until he got down from the can and headed off down the alley. After a couple of minutes, I tried to push the lid off. It was stuck! Being a new can the lid fit exactly to the lip of the can and snapped shut!
I tried hitting the bottom of the lid with the palm of my hand to jar it loose, but I was pretty much crammed into the can and had little leverage. I kept hitting it but nothing happened. I began rocking the can back and forth until it finally tipped over. The lid moved about a half inch but it was still on pretty tight. I squirmed inside the can, slowly turning my body until my feet were now near the lid and my head was at the bottom. I then began kicking at the lid. It took about six tries before the lid finally budged. Another two kicks and the lid finally came off. I crawled out from the can, put it back upright and set the lid down on it. I was hot and sweaty and I realized that if I had stayed any longer in the can I might have suffocated from lack of air. I was a little scared, but I was also excited about being trapped in there.
After that experience, I started playing with other types of confinements over the next few years. Closets, appliance boxes, the steamer trunk in the attic and even the trunk of my sister’s Olds. The car trunk was the safest as there was an escape latch inside. The steamer trunk had a broken lock so it wouldn’t trap me inside when I closed it. However, after a while I added a new element to my confinements: I would strip naked before getting inside. I felt a huge amount of pleasure with my naked body pressed against the walls and floor of the place where I confined myself. My cock was hard and a couple of times I came while masturbating in the trunk and the car. I had to completely clean and use disinfecting spray to ensure the smell of my cum didn’t endure. (When my sister traded in the Olds for a new Volvo, I think the dealer could detect it, but he said nothing.)
A couple of years later I had upped the ante and had purchased a set of ankle and handcuffs, a blindfold and a harness ball gag from a BDSM equipment catalog. Going over everything very carefully, I went to the attic, stripped and got into the trunk. I placed the keys in a side pocket in the inside of the trunk and snapped on the ankle and handcuffs. Then I placed the gag in my mouth and tightened the harness. I gave a grunt and realized that I could barely make a sound. Then I put on the blindfold, took hold of the trunk lid and let it close shut.
I lay in the trunk for I don’t know how long. Then I heard a voice. It was my mom! She had come home from work and was calling me. I was starting to panic as I heard her come up the stairs. Fortunately, I had closed the stairway to the attic behind me so she didn’t have any idea I was home. But now I was afraid to make any sound as long as she was in the house. I pulled off the blindfold and unbuckled the harness gag. I stayed still until I heard her go back downstairs. I fumbled around to find the keys. Finally, I found them and unlocked my restraints. I eased myself out of the trunk, making sure I didn’t make any noise that would attract attention. Then I dressed, gathered up the cuffs and other restraints and hid them in a box as far back in the attic as I could go. Carefully I opened the attic stairway and stepped down. It turned out that my mom left the house to get some KFC so when she came back she assumed that I had not returned from school until after she had left. After that near disaster, I started planning my confinements with a lot more caution and allowing for more time to complete.
My dad worked for a packaging firm. They made fiberboard drums, corrugated boxes and heavy duty crates among other things. One day we stopped by the factory so he could pick up his bonus check and we went through the warehouse where the various products were stored before shipment. In one area was the ‘reject’ or ‘seconds’ inventory. In one corner were the rejected drums. I went over to one of them and saw that it was heavy-duty. Really heavy duty.
“The molding machine wasn’t calibrated correctly.” Said my dad. “The drums in this batch are twice as thick as they are supposed to be.”
“Can you use them for anything?” I asked.
“Just for scrap. They’re just about indestructible. Do you need one? I can get it for nothing.”
I felt the drum. It was solid. I looked at the lid that went with it. It actually had a screw top. That meant that with a little modification I could attach a handle to the inside and close it like a jar of pickles. It was perfect.
“Yeah, I think I could use this.” I replied.
“What for?” Dad asked.
I thought for a moment “Well, I have a lot of winter and fall clothes I could put in here. Coats, scarves and such.”
“That’s a lot of room, but if you want it, no problem.”
I looked around and saw something else. “Could I get one of those as well?” I asked.
Dad looked at a molded plastic liner. Like the drum it was heavy duty and would easily fit inside. “What do you need that for?” He asked.
“To keep things from getting moldy,” I said, “the attic might get damp, so I don’t want to ruin my stuff.”
Dad shrugged his shoulders, and we loaded the drum and liner into the car. Over the next week I made some modifications to the drum. I drilled multiple air holes into the sides of the fiberboard and the liner. Then I superglued the liner inside the drum so it wouldn’t move. The air-holes were covered with screen door material which allowed air in, but no light would come through. Finally, I attached a handle to the inside of the lid which would allow me to close the drumhead tight.
The day came that I had been waiting for nearly two months. My mom and dad had been invited to her cousin’s wedding in Omaha. I didn’t want to go so they made arrangements to drive there. The trip and wedding would take at least four days to complete. Plenty of time for me to indulge myself. Over the last few months I had made additional purchases from the catalog company. A locking cock and ball harness, a medium sized butt plug, a pair of thumbcuffs, a heavy duty locking collar and the most exciting of all, a zippered leather hood. The hood had no eye-holes and combined with the gag harness and a pair of foam rubber plugs for my ears I would be completely without sight, sound or hearing: total sensory deprivation.
I went up the attic stairs and pulled out my box of toys. I checked each piece carefully. Making sure that the locks were well oiled and the keys worked. I removed my robe and stood naked in the attic. It was a cold day but the temperature was going to get up into the 50s. That meant the attic would get around 60 as long as the attic stairway was open and air could circulate. I opened the drum and with a piece of wire I hung the lid from the ceiling and dangled it over the open drum. Once more I checked everything to make sure I could get into these restraints, but more importantly, get out of them.
I slipped on the cock and ball harness and pulled the straps and buckled it closed. Taking the small padlock I snapped it shut, trapping my manhood. I took a small tube of lubricant and coated the butt plug. Carefully, I pushed it up until my sphincter closed around the base. It was a weird feeling. Good but weird. I closed the ankle cuffs and double locked them to make sure they didn’t close any tighter and cause distress. I snapped one of the handcuffs onto my left wrist and double locked it as well. I pushed the foam plugs into my ears, cutting off most of the sound. I put on the harness gag and pulled the straps tight. The ball went deep into my mouth and I started getting excited.
Now I took the remaining things and climbed up on the stepstool. I lowered my right leg into the drum and then holding the edges of the drum, I swung my left leg into the drum and lowered myself until my feet touched bottom. I dropped the collar and hood into the drum. I released the lid from the wire and I scrunched myself into the drum, holding the lid then positioning the threads and turning the lid until it was tightly on. I made sure the keys were within easy reach on the bottom of the drum. Then the final steps: I pulled the hood over my head, making sure it was aligned properly, then taking hold of the zipper and closing it. I felt the compression of the leather around my head.
The last things were the collar and the last handcuff. I reached down and found the padlock to the collar. Carefully I slipped the hasp through the buckle and snapped it shut. I took the cuff and secured my other hand as I could not double lock it, I was careful not to squeeze it too tight. I did the same with the thumbcuffs. One side locked before getting inside and then closing the other part once I was settled in.
I sat there inside the drum. I felt my heart quickly beating as that was the only sound I heard. The butt plug was firmly in my rear and it was starting to get uncomfortable. I tried shifting myself inside the drum, but I realized that I had very little room to move. I made mental notes about how I could make things more confining. I was breathing hard and while my initial excitement felt good, the intrusion in my rear and my tightly confined cock and balls were not as pleasant a feeling as I initially expected. I couldn’t get an erection and I was getting sore from being unable to move around the drum.
I did my best to relax, but as the minutes stretched on, my discomfort grew. I tried to reach for the keys, but because my hands were cuffed I could not find them. I felt around my confined ankles and folded up legs. Then I realized that I had actually dropped them behind my back and I couldn’t reach around to grab them. I began to panic and thrash around the drum as best as I could. I was now starting to sweat in panic and my heart was pounding. I screamed into the gag, but of course it was a stupid thing to try. I was not only very effectively silenced, but I was inside the attic where no one from the outside could hear me.
I don’t know how long it had been, but eventually I was able to calm down and try to figure out how to get out of my predicament. My legs and knees were pressed tightly against the unbreakable drum. Pressure against my backbone was making things unbearable. My sweat was now pooling at the bottom of the liner. I started slipping and then realized that I could turn my body. Only a fraction of an inch, but if I could keep going and manage to turn all the way around I could get the keys and free myself.
So bit by bit, I strained to rotate myself inside the drum. My knees were getting skinned and my back and ass were getting rubbed raw as I slowly managed to turn enough where I could feel the keys. I took hold of the collar key and freed myself. I unzipped the hood and pulled it off. I was drenched in sweat as I removed the harness gag and spit out the rubber ball. The inside of the drum was still pitch dark so I had to find the key to the thumbcuffs, and then the handcuffs. I felt the key ring and found the thumb-cuff key. I took the key and placed it into my mouth and put it in the keyhole. I turned my head until the one side was free. I repeated it on the other half. I fumbled with the ring until I found the handcuff key and repeated the process on my wrists and ankles. The cock and ball harness and the butt plug were the last things to come off.
I reached up and grabbed the inside handle. I was pretty worn out and it took me several minutes to loosen the lid as I had closed it really tight. Once I got the lid off I managed to stand up rather unsteadily. I stood inside the drum trying to recover. I looked outside the attic skylight and saw that it was pitch black outside. How long was I in there? I finally pulled myself out and headed downstairs. I didn’t bother getting dressed. I just needed a shower and some sleep. After my shower I took some first aid cream and rubbed it over the places I skinned myself. Heading to my bedroom I noticed the clock. It said 2:00 AM. I had been in the drum since noon yesterday!
I slept until noon when I finally got up and went back into the attic to straighten things up. I looked at the drum, my prison for nearly 14 hours. I nearly didn’t get out of it. I wonder how long I could go confined like this? Should I attempt it again? My mistake was not having a way to get the keys. I started to think how I could make it escape proof, but yet have a way out. My mind went to a science class I had in junior high. It had to do with electromagnets. If I put a strong enough electromagnet on the lid and hooked it up to a timer, I could ….
That would have to be for another time. I have a couple of days before mom and dad get back. In the meantime I’ll confine myself to the steamer trunk until I can figure out how to make the drum imprisonment foolproof.