Love and Plastic

by Daniel Guy

Martin is in the hardware superstore, looking for paint, but when he sees a shelf in the store dedicated to plastic products he stops and freezes in the centre of the aisle. In front of him there is a vast selection of plastic bags and sheets and rolls of tape and plastic wrap.  His heart beats faster and his mouth is suddenly dry.  He glances around to check no one is close and then reaches out to touch a corner of a piece of clear plastic sheeting. He feels the smooth soft film between his finger and thumb.  He gasps inwardly, discovering it to be the fine quality old fashioned polythene he once adored so much.

Martin had just moved away from the city into a small cottage in the country, hoping that a complete change of lifestyle and surroundings would help him forget about this fetish which had become overwhelming.  

He’s a lean, dark haired man of forty and all his life he's been aroused by the feel of soft plastic on his skin. In recent years he’d become preoccupied with the idea of being tied up with a clear plastic bag sealed tight over his head. He had almost killed himself several times, escaping just in time from his own tight knots and ripping the plastic bag off his head, moments before passing out. He'd got into many irresistible habits, spending huge amounts of time and money on the net, in contact with other men who enjoyed plastic suffocation and meeting up with them to play dangerous bondage games with plastic bags.  The moment when he finally decided that he had to kill his pathological desire for this most perverse of sexual deviations, was when he realized that it was only a question of time before he killed himself.  It was only going to get ever more extreme.  He decided he didn’t want to die.  Not yet.

Something had to be done.  He visited a psychiatrist who suggested many things including moving away and getting rid of everything that might tempt him.  After much thought he took the advice and decided he would change his life completely.  He threw away all the plastic clothes and bags that were stacked in his wardrobe. He replaced his computer, put his flat up for sale and gave up his job.  He wanted to change everything and start again.  His entire lifestyle had been reckless and hectic, endless nights of drinking and drugs, irregular work and living in squalid flats with crazy friends. He was weary of it all. He wanted out of the city and the fast life. He decided that he needed peace of mind and spirit.

People say that when you finally take that bold step in a new direction, you usually find something happens to you, out of the blue, which is confirmation that you have made the right choice.  

So it happened with Martin. Within weeks he’d found a cottage in the countryside and a well paid job nearby.  He settled quickly into his new countryside cottage, where the air was pure and where he felt relaxed and calm. His new job soon provided him with new friends, challenges and distractions.  He managed to give up the drugs and alcohol and he hardly thought about plastic at all.  Everything had been going so well.

But now here he is,  paralysed and perspiring, standing in the hardware superstore, staring at a large shelf, stacked with piles of tempting plastic products, knowing that if he stays a moment longer, all is lost.  He takes a deep breath, swings the empty trolley round and walks away.   Driving back along the country road he feels relieved and pleased with himself that he resisted.  Had he bought the plastic and tape he would certainly have suffocated himself the moment he got home.  Just like the old days.  That overwhelming obsession, is now in the past.   

That afternoon something happens which again seems to confirm he was right to leave the store empty handed.  Instead of painting the bedroom, he goes out for a long walk and as he wanders through the glorious woodland near to his cottage, he meets a girl.  She is younger, with short fair hair and big brown eyes, and in his eyes she is very beautiful. Instantly he is charmed by her.  They talk for an hour before she suggests they go for a drink in the village pub. She works at the local livery stables and lives with her parents in a house half a mile away.  

That night they sleep together and within a month, he’s convinced himself that he is in love with Jenny. She is modest, unpretentious and full of love for him.

This blissful euphoria lasts half a year until finally and inevitably it begins to wane.  There is no particular reason for this.  They begin to bore each other, that is all.  He begins to miss the buzz of city life. Jenny, he decides is just too provincial.  Their conversations degenerate to the banalities of domestic life, new tiles in the bathroom, gossip about the neighbour’s affairs, pub quizzes and shopping.   When the sex stops being loving, it has to start being something else or it becomes uninspiring. Neither of them chooses to be very creative; she is too innocent and he is too scared of his own imagination. So they carry on, as couples do, unable to explain to each other why the gap between them grows ever wider.  Sex becomes infrequent and brief and ultimately a drudge for them both.

Then one night, as they are having their usual dutiful attempts at sex, he looks down on her beautiful naked body and suddenly all those thoughts come rushing back into his head.  They are unstoppable.  He imagines her lying there with her hands tied above her head and a clear plastic bag tied over her head. He starts to thrust his cock harder and more aggressively inside her. She looks up and in turn becomes more aroused.  She digs her nails deep into his back and the erotized pain sends a charge through his body. Suddenly they are fucking again, and it’s as it should always be, wild, aggressive, selfish and pure. For the first time in months they come together in a wonderful groan of orgasmic pleasure.  It’s frenzied and violent and afterwards they lie on their backs together in peace, breathless, silent and dazed.

Afterwards she wants to cuddle him tight, but he pushes her arms gently away, turns to face the other way and blows out the candle.   It’s then that Martin decides that he has to stop seeing her.

Jenny is devastated one morning a few weeks later when he sits her down and tells her that the relationship is over. She sobs and begs him not to end what is for her the most precious thing she has ever experienced. She keeps asking him why suddenly he doesn't love her anymore and all he can say is that he can never be happy with anyone and that it’s all his fault. He forces her to talk in practical terms about when she will be able to move her things out of his cottage.  She reluctantly agrees to be out in a week.  Martin leaves her crying again in his kitchen and goes off to work.  That night when he returns to the cottage it’s painful to see her things packed in boxes, stacked in the hall. They hardly speak.  He has a pizza delivered and goes quietly up to the bedroom to eat it.  A while later he hears a car pulling up.

He stands by the bedroom window and looks down on her parents, sitting in their car, looking up at him with hate in their eyes as Jenny loads her cardboard boxes into the boot. They never liked him.  That night he sleeps on the sofa.  The following morning Jenny says she will be gone by the time he’s back, but when Martin returns from work, she hasn’t and Martin is in for a shock.

He walks into the lounge and sees Jenny sitting naked on a wooden chair she's fetched from the kitchen. She has a clear plastic food bag pulled over her head and a roll of black duct tape resting on her knee.  She looks at him, expressionless.  

Several of his diaries, which Martin kept locked in a trunk at the back of his cellar, now lie open on the floor beside her.  It’s obvious she knows. He drops his briefcase, steps over, wrenches the bag off her head and drops it on the floor.

'What are you playing at? What is this?'

Jenny remains calm.   

'That’s what you really want, isn't it?' she says, softly. She sounds a little drunk. Martin is still in shock but the sight of Jenny naked and tied arouses in him in a way he’d almost forgotten.  Again he resists.

'Get dressed and go. Stop this. Please. It’s best you go now. Please.'

She looks at him and says nothing.  She gets up.  There’s a long moment of silence.  Then without emotion in her voice she says,

'It feels good. I like it. I know why you like it now. Look..'

She moves towards the plastic bag on the floor and starts to bend down to pick it up. Martin pushes her away.

'No Jenny. You mustn’t do this to me. It’s got nothing to do with you. Please, just go.'

In his mind there is something stirring.  Thoughts and images of women struggling with plastic bags tied over their heads start to appear once again in his head.  Jenny takes note of the expression in his eyes and says,

'Come on Martin. Let's make love once last time. We'll both put bags over our heads. If you like it then there won't be any reason for us to split.'

He stares at her, unable to speak. He had played suffocation games with many men, in the past but never with a woman. Now in front of him is a girl he’s become very attached to, offering him precisely what he had always wanted. As he stands there confused and aroused, she picks up the plastic bag and roll of tape from the floor and walks slowly to the wooden staircase up to the bedroom.  She turns and at the foot of the stairs she smiles as sweetly as she can and says,

'Come on. You know you want to.'

He watches her go. He hears her as footsteps upstairs, then the faint creaking of the bed. Then silence.  A minute passes. He is in turmoil. He doesn't want to start all that again. He has to resist. He has to simply put those fantasies out of his mind and think of other things, ordinary things, boring things which have nothing to do with plastic. 

Upstairs she is waiting for him and finally he begins to climb the stairs, peeling off his clothes as he goes. Naked he climbs onto the bed beside her and moves in to kiss her cheek. Jenny pulls away and whispers,

'No. I want to tie you up. Please let me.'

Again he is confused for a moment and she smiles at him and gently turns him over onto his stomach. She pulls his wrists together and he feels the tape being wrapped around them many times. She moves to the end of the bed and wraps more tape around his ankles.  She turns him onto his back. She reaches over for the plastic bag. She kneels astride him, opens up the bag and slips it over his head. She picks up the roll of tape and wraps a strip around his neck so the bag is sealed tight over his head. She looks down at him but now she isn’t smiling.

'You like that, honey? Is this what turns you on?'

He is startled by how quickly she had done all this, and by the hatred in her voice. But the bag feels good over his head. He had almost forgotten the rush and the intense pleasure of the sensation. He sucks in air and the soft warm plastic stick tight to the contours of his face. He breathes out and the bag fills out like a balloon. He looks out at her ugly, despising look.

'You think I'm playing, don't you. But I'm not, Martin. I know I'm not sophisticated like you. I'm just a little girl from the country. But you are sick and sick people like you deserve all they get.'

Martin starts to struggle. Jenny's fury is frightening him. He breathes in and out more quickly, trying to catch enough of the plastic in between his teeth in order to bite though a breathing hole. She sits on his belly and pins him to the bed.  He pleads with her, dizzy and squirming, his face now wet with condensation. The air in the plastic bag is stale and hot. He twists his head, tries to lift her off him with his knees,

but she keeps him down.  He’s suffocating. The plastic sticks tight to his face one second then billows out the next. He can’t breathe. He needs oxygen. His lungs begin to ache. His cock is hard. His speech is breathy and feeble.

'Please..no.. please ..'

He is starting to fade. Now too weak to put up much of a struggle, his twisting and struggling is soon reduced to faint jerks and twitches. He tries to utter one more thing but before any of it is audible, his body sags and his face falls motionless. His last breath slowly seeps from his mouth and fills out the plastic bag one final time. His head tilts gently to one side and then rests still.

Jenny climbs off the bed. She stands looking at the naked form of Martin. She sees his huge cock, hard and erect, with pre-cum drooling off the tip. Now she feels more aroused than she had ever felt before. It’s irresistible. She climbs back on the bed and kneels astride him again. She moves her pelvis down till his hard cock is deep inside her wet cunt. She fucks his inert body as he lies there unconscious. As she fucks him, she looks down at his eyes staring out at nothing through his plastic mask. She fucks him till his inert body rocks gently up and down, pushing down on him harder and faster. She fucks him and she comes. She groans aloud with pleasure at the long and intense orgasm. Finally she pulls herself off the body. She stands by the bed once again and studies him, fascinated, lying there motionless, the shiny plastic bag misted with condensation, not moving. After a few moments she starts to laugh aloud, uncontrollably.  The sight of Martin bagged is somehow funny. Eventually she stops laughing. She peels off the plastic bag and waits. He remains unconscious. She leaves the bedroom to find a cigarette.

Daniel Guy.