Bags

Prelude “That bitch really should have her ass kicked,” Peter exclaimed loudly. His friends slowly nodded while sipping their beer. The fact that Peter had been loud really didn’t mean a lot. First they were seated round their regular table at the regular, noisy pub, secondly everybody around would agree with Peter. The particular bitch was a civil servant. A rather young and good looking girl, who was the mayors spokesman. She did an excellent job, using her pretty face to smoothen out the most outrageous political cracks, but this time the task had been too tough. The core issue was the renegotiation of the trashworkers settlement with the local community. The community had refused any of the workers requirements and the workers had started a working confict - leaving all but medical trash. ...

My Daddy is my hero. But before I explain that, I better tell you about me and how it all happened. I’m 18, but I’m small for my age, and not the smartest tool in the shed as I have overheard people saying about me. It’s related to my size, some kind of medical thing that makes me look and behave like I’m about 13, according to those silly tests they keep making me take. ...

Dashed this one off to try telling a trashbagging story from a different perspective - that of a clueless neighbor who helps set out the garbage. Pure fiction.. Something strange happened where I live and I felt I just had to write it down so that maybe it would become clearer. Guess I better provide a bit of background in case I share this with someone. I live in a typical suburban community of similar houses. We have rear entry garages with driveways to an alley. The development is new so few of the trees are tall and most of them are in the front yards. Most of my neighbors are young couples who leave every morning to commute to work. There are a small number of us who work from home using the cable company’s fast Internet service. That means we don’t see our neighbors much because even on weekends they go out to do shopping, restaurants, etc. ...

(Previous Green Valley Tale: Tales of Green Valley 16: Surprise Party, the Aftermath) Tales of Green Valley # 17: New to the Game Mary Johnson was cleaning her apartment. Her soon to be ex had moved out and she had lots of his old crap to get rid of. He had taken what he wanted, including her virginity all those years ago, and left to go live with his new girl. Mary was 38, in great shape, but she had discovered her husband preferred the barely legal college girls in their town. His new girl was an 18 year old freshman drama student who just loved to act like his she was his 13 year old babygirl who was being taught about sex by her “Daddy”. ...

It was a dark night, the dumpster was on the corner, it had a very sinister look to it tonight, and Julie was very horny, she knew everything about that corner, and had been inside the dumpster before. Before getting inside, there is a gate, a wooden gate surrounding the dumpster, with picket fencing inside of chain fence. It’s attached to the restaurant in the back parking lot. A lock on the door prevents midnight dumpers from getting in. They bag most of their trash, and it mostly small boxes, bags and food remains. The enclosure is rather large, this one has a compactor attached to it, but it is broken, never used. ...

During free time like I have available to me today, I celebrate the invention of the trash bag. Just how great is it that we have this product: a bag made of soft, slick plastic which we not only pack our trash into, but can wear and sleep in. I love trash bags on their own, for the shiny, slick look of them and the lovely way they fit against my body. The plastic caresses me gently at first, and then, after five or so minutes, it fits me like a second skin as my naked body heat causes it to cling to me. It’s wonderful to have a bag-like sheath of polyethylene to slip into, allowing that plastic to take us to never-boring sexual flights of fancy. ...

My first time in a dumpster was a number of years ago, probably when I was in my early teens. I would climb into this one dumpster and play among the bags of trash, but that never really satisfied whatever it is that makes me lust for trash. As I’ve grown older–I’m about to turn 27–my lust for trash has become a love. I love everything about it… The smell, the feel, the experience. On various occasions I have been in the throes of passion with a bag of garbage. One particular time, I actually ate some of the lettuce that was in a bag of garbage. It was delicious! ...

[Rachel’s Plan] I have been planning to throw away my loser boyfriend for weeks. He’s been absolutely useless and it hit me, what do I do with useless things? I throw them in the garbage! He still worships me so I can make him do anything if I dominate him first. This week is perfect as the dumb ass forgot to take out the trash so we have a pile of disgusting garbage that stinks. So this Friday is going to be D-day for his ass. I am going to dress in my sexy vinyl black thong and black top and dominate this loser right into the garbage can where he belongs. He will have to endure four days in my large 96 gallon garbage can, I make a lot of trash! ...

(story continues from The College Shortcut) Part Two. I was genuinely fearing for my life now after Mikeys earlier comment. “I’ll be back to have fun with you” he’d said. What the hell did that mean? How could any part of this be fun? Through the next couple of hours I strained against my tape bonds with all the strength I could muster, but after the few days I’d been here, taped up like a mummy, my muscles were almost totally locked, and it was all I could do to barely roll from side to side. The weight pressing down on me from all sides didn’t help either. My face was once again pressed into the middle of an overly full bag, and the moisture from my breathing through my nose had made the slick plastic wet and slippery. It was getting tough to breath now as well, and I moved my head from side to side to try to get a better angle to breathe from, but the immense weight above made it very difficult to do so. ...

The rest stop was on a quiet stretch of freeway just outside the city. Over the years the edge of town had moved ever closer and nearly overtaken the place, almost no one ever stopped there anymore. It was only a few more minutes until you reached town. I pulled my car into the rest stop turned the engine off and snapping out the lights. At three AM the only light came from the few lamps posted around the rest stop, and the glow of the freeway traffic on the other side of the swaying trees. Sitting in my car I watched the parking lot until I was satisfied that I was the only person around. ...

Of my trash fetish: Sexual deviancy or latent normality? One autumn night after my bedtime in 1982, at the age of 13, I started rolling up wads of tissues and throwing them around my room. I went through an entire box of Kleenex and after I was finished, my bedroom floor was a sea of wadded-up tissues. My room had just been “trashed.” And I got off on it. It was one of the most orgasmic experiences of my entire puberty. I must have made more noise than I realized, however, because my mother came into my room, turned on the light, looked around with amazement and asked, “WHAT are you DOING?” ...

Sandra was not a stupid woman. On this night, she was just drunk - QUITE drunk and not totally in control of her mental or physical facilities. She’d had an entire bottle of wine with co-workers on this Friday night, celebrating a pay raise. As she normally didn’t drink, that much wine went straight to her head. One of her colleagues, who’d only had one small gin and tonic, offered her a ride home, but Sandra shrugged it off. “No, no, no,” she slurred. “I wanna walk … wanna walk. Need the fresh air.” ...

This isn’t another story about how the Boston Red Sox finally won the world - series after 86 years. Although that might be one of the greatest feats in modern history, what happened to me that night will live in my memories for as long as the most seasoned Red Sox fan. Now it is true that I am Boston area born and raised, so I was pretty excited to learn that the boys were headed for something special. I had been paying pretty close attention to the play-off games, actually watching most of them either at home, or at work. But, there was something else I had my eyes on at that particular time. Many of you might have read, “My night in the dumpster.” Well, what I had my eyes on was that same dumpster. I had scoped it out about 2 nights before, and it was getting close to being about half full. ...

This story begins a few days ago. It’s about an ordeal that I went through that I thought you all should know about. Of course, most of you probably know that I am one of those few out there that call themselves “trash fetishists” or something along those lines. We don’t know where these desires come from, or if they are even real, but it makes us feel good when we think about it. ...

This is an adaptation of a Role-play between der_miner and me (dirty_trashbag_girl). Prelude Julie was an average schoolgirl, 18 years in her final years of school, ever the brightest student. But Julie hid a dark secret about herself from those around her, she fantasised about trash bags and bins. One evening, Julie got home early from school. She heard her mother and Father talking about spring cleaning. With Julie’s baby brother around the house had got into a terrible state. ...

Part One. I had wanted to get home quickly that day, as I had to get ready to go out that night for a few beers with some friends of mine whom I hadn’t seen for ages. As a result, I thought the best bet was to take a short cut through the grounds of the local college and save myself about fifteen minutes. The walk through the college itself took about 20 minutes, and took me on the route I had used so much in my life. I had gone to this very college a few years before, and it was thanks to this place that I now had my steady career in architecture. ...