Slave Toys Go in the Box: Diana's Boy Confined

By Melissa Miranti

Diana's boytoy, Jerome, had a discipline problem. When she found him snooping around in her underwear drawer, she knew that she had to restrict him. What better way to restrict a submissive than to fully encase him in a box? That way he would contemplate how he had failed his mistress, he would be safely locked away, and he would be grateful when she finally did let him out. This is the story of Jerome's first time locked in the box, and the first time he was let out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melissa Miranti
• Release date: Aug 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005150297

Melissa Miranti

About the AuthorMelissa Miranti is a bisexual Brooklyn-based erotica writer. She has been writing erotica since she was younger than she’d like to admit, but began publishing in early 2016. She lives with her wife, who generously indulges her myriad fetishes. She hopes that you enjoy her stories, and by all means, do enjoy them thoroughly. You can even commission your own story!

Book preview

Slave Toys Go in the Box

Diana’s Boy Confined

By Melissa Miranti

Melissa Miranti is a bisexual Brooklyn-based erotica writer. She has been writing erotica since she was younger than she’d like to admit, but began publishing in early 2016. She lives with her wife, who generously indulges her myriad fetishes. She hopes that you enjoy her stories, and by all means, do enjoy them thoroughly. You can even commission your own story!

© 2016-2022 Melissa Miranti, All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are 18 or older.

It had been twelve hours inside the box, and Jerome was starting to wonder if he’d ever be let out. His mistress had said she would let him out long before he reached his limit, but how could she know what his limit was? Jerome was sure he’d passed it hours ago, but still the side of it didn’t open, and the lock kept him firmly inside. He could barely hear anything from the outside, so there was no indication of his mistress coming to even check on him. Jerome was well and truly trapped and alone.

He knew it was twelve hours. A little past twelve hours, now. The tiny digital watch told him so. He had gone in the box at 7:23 AM, and it was 7:25 PM now. He shifted again, trying in vain to relieve the cramping in his muscles. He could only stretch himself out a little in the confined area, and he had to contort the rest of his body uncomfortably to do so. The moments of relief that it afforded him were just enough to remind him how nice it would be to be let out of the box.

Jerome was thankful that the box wasn’t a hot one, at least. The airflow from outside the box wasn’t much, though it served to keep the temperature down, and reduce the sweating that Jerome did while he was cooped up. He sweated anyway. The bottom of the box wasn’t even padded, and while he had found nice cool patches of metal early on, those were long gone, and Jerome was left without any kind of comfort remaining to him. Even his bottle of water was empty.

It