Trapped in a Plastic Bag Shop

by Daniel Guy

Somewhere along a row of tatty shops near the industrial zone, there’s a place that sells nothing but plastic bags. You can pick up every kind of plastic bag you want, anything from large mattress covers, to the little plastic pouches that drug dealers use to sell their weed.

It’s called Romford Packaging, and it’s a small, cramped, dusty shop, a dimly lit cavern of wooden shelves stacked with boxes of plastic bags, narrow corridors in between, and the floor is littered with discarded plastic, bits of tape and card. At the back is a desk piled high with bills and order forms and a dirty yellow phone buried beneath. Beside it a dented grey metal filing cabinet, a plastic waste paper bin filled with broken biros, old newspapers and the remnants of a Chinese takeaway. Around it the cracked and flaking nicotine walls are peppered with old post it notes, newspaper cuttings, postcards, price lists and a saucy calendar. 

That’s where you’ll find Jake, six days a week, sitting at his grubby desk at the back of shop. He’s in his mid-twenties, pale, blond and scrawny too, despite having to lift heavy boxes of plastic bags about all day. Romford Packaging is a family business and Jake’s great grandfather started it years before plastic was invented when they sold just paper and card. They switched to plastic when it got popular, but these days of course plastic is bad for the environment, so business is bad at the shop. Some say they should have packed it in when Jake’s father retired two years ago through ill health. Jake’s older brother wanted nothing to do with the business, taking off to Canada after university like a bat out of hell. Jake has been helping out in the shop since he was ten, and now both his parents are sick, he’s keeping it going. He lives in the flat upstairs and his parents have moved into an old peoples bungalow down the road, so there’s no stairs for them to climb. 

On a quiet, rainy Tuesday morning, Jake is in the shop, staring at a computer screen, clicking furtively through websites, filled with images of models, dressed in clear plastic dresses, dreaming, as he often dreams, of one day of working in fetish fashion.  

As luck would have it, at a train station half a mile away an attractive young German woman called Lisa Braun steps into a taxi and gives the driver the address of Romford Packaging, and the taxi starts to head his way. She has short hair dyed black, and is wearing bright red lipstick and a matching shiny red pvc raincoat. 

Bored with being at his desk, Jake gets up, has a stretch and leaves the shop a moment to go next door and buy a can of coke. Outside he sees Raj from two doors down, and as they’re having a little chat and a smoke together on the pavement. A taxi pulls up nearby. The woman in the pvc raincoat steps out, looks up and down the row of shops, sees the bright red sign that reads Romford Packaging and approaches. 

Jake is surprised when she steps inside the shop. Grinning he turns to Raj, who raises back his bushy eyebrows with a nod. Jake follows the woman in. 

‘Can I help you?’

She turns and smiles. 

‘Are you Jake?’

He notes her soft German accent. 

‘Yes.’

‘Good. I was told that you could help me. I need some really large clear plastic sacks, big enough to put a human being inside.’

Jake twitches. She is very beautiful. Her pvc coat is more tantalising than any pvc coat he’s ever seen before. She’s looking straight at him, smiling. He clears his throat, tries to stay focussed. 

‘Erm. I’ve got two by ones, that’s two metres by one.’

‘OK. They need to be clear plastic. I mean like glass clear.’

‘Erm. Let me have a look. I might have run out of those.’

Jake brushes past, squeezing through in order to move up a corridor and search the shelves. He’s on some steps, reaching for a box, brings it down, reads the scribble on the side and then brings it over. 

‘One box left. There’s a hundred in there.’

‘Can I see one? Do you mind?’

‘No, not at all.’

Jake rips the packet open, pulls out a clear plastic sack. She takes it from him, and feels the softness of the plastic between her fingers. 

‘Mmmh, this is good. It’s hard to find this kind of polythene these days. But this is perfect. It’s thick, but very shiny and soft.’

She unfolds it slowly then presses it tight against her body like she’s trying it for size. She pushes out her breasts against the plastic. 

‘Well, what do you think?’ 

Jake can hardly talk, with the sight and strangeness of her and the sound of plastic crackling, and it all begins to make him slightly horny. 

She moves towards him, holds the sack up in front of him, like it’s a window. 

‘What do you need them for?’ he asks. 

She smiles at him through the bag and says,

‘OK Well, Jake. The thing is I’m a video artist. I have had these life size human figures made and I have the idea of putting them inside giant clear plastic sacks.’

Jake looks back, struggling to imagine what she means. 

‘It’s a project I’m working on about cocoons. These human figures, full size dolls, I want to seal them up inside these bags, make them look like they’re in come kind of translucent cocoon, like the womb of a metamorphosis, but also the metamorphosis into death.’

‘OK’ says Jake….’

‘These bag are too wide. I need them to be tighter around the bodies.’

She holds the bag tight around Jake’s skinny waste for a moment as if to see how much space might be around him if he were inside it. Then she pulls it away and says,

‘Yes, they need to be less wide. Can you have them especially made?’

Jake is completely thrown by what she’s saying, her behaviour, what she’s doing with the bag, he takes a moment to reply. 

‘Er well, I can order any size you like.’

‘Good then we make them longer and thinner.’

‘But what size exactly? We can go up to one metre fifty in length and down to  say forty centimetres wide.’ 

‘I’m sure that will be fine. Perhaps if you just think of me inside one. Then you will get an idea of the size. Not too tight, but tight enough. OK.’

‘Sorry?’ Jake’s mouth is suddenly very dry. 

‘Can you do this for me?’

‘Yes.’

She laughs. 

‘I mean, can you imagine me inside one of these bags?’

‘Erm, yes.’

She smiles. He grins back nervously. She winks at him. 

‘I am sure you can.’ she says. 

Jake is suddenly embarrassed. She steps forward. Now she is crunching the bag up between her fingers to make it crackle. 

‘I’ll let you into a secret, Jake. This friend of mine who suggested I should come see you, she says she knows you. She used to be at school with you. She told me you dated for a while.’

Jake is frozen, holds his breath, then blinks. She moves closer and speaks to him in a whisper. 

‘She told me a little secret about you too. She said she once caught you masturbating in your bedroom with a plastic bag tied over your head and when she confronted you about it you confessed that plastic turned you on. I think this is true, no?’

She stops to giggle for a moment before she continues. Now her voice is reduced to a whisper.

‘Now there is no need for you to be embarrassed, Jake. You should never feel ashamed of these feelings. You must be grateful because people like us can enjoy extreme pleasure in a way most ordinary people cannot hope to experience. Yes, I am just like you, Jake. I have many unusual fetishes and sexual obsessions, and I am proud of them all. I get horny when a girl puts her hands tight around my neck. Now where I got that from I haven’t a clue, but it just means now I know how to get what I like. I’m sure you know what…’ 

She is interrupted by the sound of a bell and the door of the shop opening. 

She pulls away. An old black guy with a thick white beard and a dusty grey overall walks in. 

‘All right there, Jake? How’s it going?’

Jake tries to be as normal as he can.

‘Hey, man. Just give me a second.’

He turns back to the girl in the red pvc dress.

‘Sorry?’

‘OK, Jake. So when can you get these bags?’

‘Friday morning. Definitely. 

‘Very Good. See you then.’ 

She slips her hands into the pockets of her pvc raincoat and walks out, brushing past the black guy, as she leaves.

From that moment on Jake is completely distracted. He is constantly creating fantasies in his head about her, writhing gently inside the clear plastic sack. He cannot get the images out of his mind, imagines her lying beside him in bed, his hand sliding over her soft plastic skin, the sensation of his fingers running softly over the shiny surface of her breasts, squeezed flat by the plastic, standing over her as she wriggles on the floor, sealed up and suffocating, him kneeling beside her, his hand is around her throat, watching her breathing slowly, and the trapped air around her head causing the plastic to expand and contract. And what a strange dreams he has that night, where she’s transformed the sack into a raunchy see through dress, they’re dancing on the table in some German beerhall, and he’d naked, pressed tight against her plastic covered breasts.. 

Friday afternoon, and a shaft of bright sunshine beams in through the open doorway of the shop. Jake sits at his desk, fidgeting, idly doodling, waiting, unable to concentrate on anything. The bell rings, the door swings open and a backlit silhouette appears in the doorway. Jake looks up. It’s her, and as she enters, he sees she’s wearing a white silk blouse, a short black leather skirt and black stilettos. 

‘Hello Jake. Have they arrived?’

She’s walking up to his desk. He stands up. 

‘Hello. Yes. I ordered one box. I can get more if you need.’

‘A hundred will be fine. Can I see them?’

‘Sure.’ 

She walks back to the door, turns round the sign so the shop is closed, bolts the door and then returns. Jake lifts up the box beside his desk, pushes the pile of paper along to make a little space, opens up the flap, takes out a bag and opens it so she can see. 

She takes it, feels it, studies it, then says,

‘I think it might need to be wider. I need to check. Maybe if I could ask you to get inside it?’

‘Sure.’

Jake opens up the plastic sack, gathers up the side then starts to step into the bag. He pulls the gathered fold of plastic up to his thighs. 

‘Wait. Jake. Get undressed first. And please go in head first. It will make it easier, I think.’

Jake drops the plastic, steps out of the bag, unable to think what he should say.

‘Go on. I think it might be nice to film it too? Would you like to be in my video project? I have my camera with me.’

‘OK. Sure.’

He starts to undress. She picks her camera from her bag, tuns it on, switches on a desk lamp and turns it against the wall so there’s a little bit more light. 

When Jake’s undressed she stands him up against a shelf stacked full of brown cardboard boxes, pulls the chair out from the table, and sits in front of him. 

‘OK, Jake. Now get inside the bag for me.’ 

Jake gathers up the bag again and starts to slip inside it head first. He slides the folds of plastic over his shoulders and down his chest, till is elbows press against his side, then works the plastic down around him, twisting one side then the other, and all of this she’s getting down on video.  His cock sticks out erect, so Jake must gently edge the sack down round it.  Slowly the bag slips down, till finally rest of it flops down around his feet and he’s inside completely. She gazes through the window on her camera, at the clear shiny plastic against his pale skin, while he stands motionless, arms pressed against his side, waiting. 

‘Oh, you look so good in there, Jake. Now move forward. Come towards me’ 

He shuffles forward, but then has to stop because he’s stepping on the plastic sack.

‘Now slowly turn round three times.’

Jake gently turns round on his feet, knowing exactly why she’s asking him to turn. He can feel the half a metre trail of plastic at his feet twisting shut, so he’s sealed up inside. When he’s done he stands there, motionless, like a doll, waiting for her next instruction. She looks him up and down.

‘I think these bags will do very well. They’re the perfect size.’

She moves her camera and zooms in on his erection.  

‘Now then Jake. I can see you are finding it quite horny inside there. If you want to rub your dick that’s cool with me.’ 

Then she mocks him, holds her hand up to her mouth, pretending to be shocked by outrageous idea that’s just come into her head.

‘Hey! Let’s play a game! You have to keep jerking off in there until you can’t stand up any longer. I think this will make a great video, much more interesting. How long do you think you can keep going before you fall over? Maybe till you’re up to your eyes in your own semen?’ 

She laughs, but calmly, so she can keep the camera steady. She sees him wanking, his cock pressed tight against the shiny plastic film. 

‘Mmm, that’s great, Jake. just keep going.’ 

He soon ejaculates, wobbles as he comes, doubles up a bit but manages not to tip over onto the floor. 

‘Oh fuck!’ she says, staring at her camera. 

‘Sorry, it looks like I didn’t record that. You have to do it again..’

As she is filming she’s becoming quite aroused herself, the sight of him inside, enveloped, trapped, contained. Thirty minutes later, the sack is all misted up inside, and Jake is jerking, twisting, rocking from side to side, pumping towards his third ejaculation. The plastic sticks to his face as he desperately tries to breathe in air, and then at last he shakes, he buckles, comes, lets out another long and heartfelt moan of divine joy, then topples over, and collapsing on the grubby carpet at her feet. 

She kneels beside him, her camera aimed down at his plastic covered face, 

a close up of him gasping, sweat pouring from his face. 

When she’s recorded all she wants, she turns the camera off, and unravels the end of the sack so Jake can have some air. 

The shop is silent. She looks back down.  Jake isn’t moving. She rubs his plastic covered cheek with the tip of her shoe.

‘You all right in there?’

‘Yes,’ he says softly from inside.

She kneels beside him once again.

‘Thanks Jake. You’ve been very helpful. I really enjoyed watching you. I found that almost as horny as you did. Now, do you need any help getting out of that?’

Jake shakes his head. 

‘OK. Well you can keep that bag. I’ll take the rest. If I need more I know where to come. Goodbye.’

With that she hooks her camera bag around her shoulder, picks up the box of plastic bags and leaves the shop. Jake however, stays perfectly still. He does not begin to tear himself out from his hot, sticky cocoon. His cock is hard again. He cannot possibly stop now. 

Daniel Guy