Dumped

The first Thursday of November had arrived. Here I was, another dreary start to the week at university. I hated it here, but having finally made the decision to aim for my dream job after years of holding back, I opted to attend here and begin my studies for veterinary medicine. It meant leaving my home town, leaving my friends behind, but it would be worth it, even if I hated the general atmosphere here, full of immature students engrossed in a culture of drinking, vomiting and trying to gain as many sexual partners as possible. ...

Anne Fields was an office administrator, working in the city for a medium size finance company, which for most of the year meant keeping the office clean and open, with enough stocks of everything from mugs to paper to loo roll. In practice it also meant that most of the account managers, almost all male, treated her like their own personal dogsbody, from ordering pizza to cleaning up spills and occasionally emptying their rubbish bins if they’d filled them up before the end of the day. On the upside the pay was quite good, even including a clothes allowance as she was occasionally required to greet clients and other office visitors. ...

Oof! “What happened to my head?” I groan, while gradually getting my vision back. “I feel like someone hit me…” Starting to recover from the stars circling my head, I look up to see my girlfriend with a golf club. A nine-iron to be exact. “What’s the big idea…” I start to moan out before she screams back “Silence! How dare you bring another girl into our apartment! Into MY home!” The scowl across her brows shows she’s clearly pissed off. ...

“Oh, c’mon, he won’t bite.” Brianna giggles as you watch her anxiously as she drapes her pet python over your shoulder. You’ve always been a little wary of snakes and ever since finding out your girlfriend of 1 year had one, coming to her house always brought out your nervous side. Most of your dates wound up ending at your place. Brianna had decided to fix that. She had invited you over to help her feed her snake, Bruce, on the promise that if your fear wasn’t cured, she’d never bother you about it again. ...

Part 1: Dumping Jennifer Jennifer had just finished clearing up the mess from last night’s party. It had been a good night, plenty of friends over, lots of music, some drunken games and a lovely finish involving her boyfriend Mike, who was at his best in bed last night. Mike had gone out early this morning though, leaving Jennifer to tidy up the house. Clear up done, Jennifer proceeded to straighten her blonde hair, apply a little bit of makeup and change her clothes. Eventually her phone rang. It was Mike. ...

Another day finished. Working as a manager in the top range fashion store in the city’s massive shopping mall, Erin was locking up at the end of the day. She was wearing her usual black leather jacket and leggings combo, her brown hair straightened out. She was beautiful and sexy. She began making her way through the mall when she spotted Ashleigh, one of the shopping mall cleaners. She was quite a plain girl, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, but still attractive. Ashleigh noticed Erin looking at her and grabbed her chance to speak with her. ...

Being the TV remote is boring. Wenona Hart recalled Ryann’s words as she checked the time. Transforming an adult woman into a fully functioning electronic device was no small task and she was rather impressed with herself, but if Ryann wanted to explore other options then Wenona was willing to make the effort. She turned her attention to the book in front of her. Reading ancient texts was always time consuming and great care was necessary, pronouncing one word wrong in a spell could mean the difference between a dog and a dinosaur. Wenona was about to go downstairs to the girl’s apartment and wanted to review a few more transformation spells, the roommate’s current interest. ...

(story continues from Julie’s Trash Time 2) Continues from part 2 Part Three Julie finishes polishing the bathroom mirror, then brushes the hair out of her face with the back of her hand to admire her work. This is the last room, and just like the rest of the house it is now sparkling clean. Julie has been working all day scrubbing and cleaning the house top to bottom. She has done a week of chores in one day as a surprise for Audrey, and to give them more play time over the upcoming holiday. ...

Selroen The most powerful paralytic ever created. The woman looks at her work with a victorious grin. These “dolls” she’d created -or rather captured and drugged- will never be able to move again. Their muscles have gone completely slack, only the most important muscles remain. The heart, of course, being one of them. After all, can’t have these dolls dying on us now can we? The woman grins. Time to make some money. ...

You woke up by the immense lights of the supermarket. You were inside a white plastic wrapper which contained your entire body and there was a transparent part of the plastic in front of your face so you could see a little bit. You were very confused for few minutes but then it all came back to you, how you have ended up in this situation. It began when one day you were sleeping in your bed at home and someone came, woke you up by a slap and injected something to your neck. Long story short, you were kidnapped by a private company that sold human slaves. After one month of brainwashing you were transported to the supermarket, where you are to be sold to anyone who needed a home slave. They injected you with something that made you immobilized and slowed your metabolism so you could stay alive in that plastic for at least 14 days. You felt humiliated, you were nothing more than a product now. ...

“Happy 18th birthday baby.” “Oh Mom, it’s beautiful.” Jessie said. “My little girl is all grown up, blow the candles out Honey.” Dad said. Jessie closes her eyes and blows out the candles. Mom cuts the cake while Dad answers the front door. He returns with an official looking letter, his sad face speaks the words he can’t say. “Not today, it can’t come today.” Jessie said. “They can’t even respect a girls birthday anymore?” Mom said. ...

“Aoi, I told you to put away your games and clean up!” Haruko yelled from across the house. Aoi winced at the sound of her mother’s voice. It was a lazy summer afternoon, and she had spent it the same way she’d spent every other day of college summer vacation: Sitting at home, playing video games. “Uhh, sorry! I’ll do it later!” she yelled back. Her mother’s nagging grew worse every day. Not that one could blame her; Aoi was a mess. The living room was littered with empty plates and discarded candy wrappers. Schoolbooks and untouched printouts were sitting in piles around the couch. ...

“Aoi, I told you to put away your games and clean up!” Haruko yelled from across the house. Aoi winced at the sound of her mother’s voice. It was a lazy summer afternoon, and she had spent it the same way she’d spent every other day of college summer vacation: Sitting at home, playing video games. “Uhh, sorry! I’ll do it later!” she yelled back. Her mother’s nagging grew worse every day. Not that one could blame her; Aoi was a mess. The living room was littered with empty plates and discarded candy wrappers. Schoolbooks and untouched printouts were sitting in piles around the couch. ...

Note: This very short story was inspired by the Dec. 6, 2016 New York Post. https://twitter.com/nypost/status/806114238594957312 Carrie is preparing to close the store for the night, well, she is watching the store’s automated systems preparing to close the store. After the last upgrade Carrie wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been fired, the system never has a major failure, it fixes its own minor issues. The supermarket cleans itself, stocks itself and opens and closes itself and answers customer questions by smart phone text all by itself. Her job has been reduced to watching the monitor. No customers detected Restocking and purchase orders complete Preparing end of day reports Carrie logs off the system before the diagnostic reboot, she is supposed to stay until the system comes back up and starts overnight cleaning operations but twenty minutes of pay isn’t worth hanging around for that. Carrie is grabbing her things when the whole place goes pitch black. Power failure. “Why aren’t the emergency lights on?” Carrie said as if the system was going to respond. Her knee slams into a server rack. “Owww, don’t worry about me, stupid piece of junk.” Carrie finds the door and feels her way out of the office. She sees lights, thank goodness. “Hey, over here, help.” Carrie said. A figure approaches. The light strapped to his forehead makes him look like a shadow, but from his size Carrie can tell it’s a man. He grabs her, dragging her further into the dark store and toward the second figure. “My shift is over, you don’t need me to work on the system.” Carrie said. “We’re not fixing the place, we’re robbing the place.” The man holding Carrie said. The second man turns his light on Carrie and the man behind her, she can see he is wearing a ski mask. “You know there’s no money here, right?” Carrie said. “There’s no money anywhere since automation, we’re forced to steal stuff.” He said. “Well you don’t need me for that either.” Carrie said. “Sorry Honey, but you’re staying right here.” Carrie’s wrists are pulled behind her back and secured with plastic cuffs. Several strips of tape are pressed over her mouth and she is lowered to the floor, her ankles are cuffed. “How much time do we have?” “45 minutes before the power comes back on.” The two men get to work rifling through shelves and filling plastic boxes on a push cart, and they’re not being neat about it, spilling food and trampling on containers all over the store. Carrie tries to worm her way out of the bakery aisle toward the entrance and maybe get someone’s attention, but only manages to cover herself in flour, molasses and whatever else is on the floor before one of the men comes back. He sees Carrie’s attempted escape, folds her legs and uses a cable tie to hogtie her, then tells her they’re off. Now she can only wait for the power to come back and the system to report the robbery. After some time Carrie hears the snap of a breaker and the low hum of the computers powering up. It won’t be long now. The system lost power at the start of the diagnostic routine and now displays a message on the terminal. This is where Carrie would recover full function of the system, if she were at the terminal and logged on. The system waits the preprogramed three minutes for input then sends a text to Carrie’s phone to respond to a system failure and initiates post-closing operation in safe mode. Low level lighting comes on, just enough for sensors to scan the store and assess the cleanup required. The job begins by deploying the Spider, Self-Propelled Debris Remover. It looks more like a Hippo with its square shape and large maw. Traveling up and down the aisles, it uses its two arms to sweep trash into the front intake, depositing full trash bags out the back at the end of each aisle. In the bakery aisle Carrie sees the machine coming but can’t get out of the way. The end of the arm moves past her then folds at the center like an elbow catching Carrie in the side and pushing her toward the intake where she is swallowed whole by the machine. Inside she is swept into a large plastic bag as more trash is heaped on top of her. When full her bag is tied and ejected from the back of the machine. Soon the aisles are clear of trash and black plastic trash bags form a row along the dairy and meat section. Carrie struggles but the tight hogtie, sticky contents and the heavy plastic bag itself prevent much movement. She concentrates on creating breathing space. An overhead trolley system collects the bags so floor scrubbers can be deployed. Carrie feels herself being lifted as her bag moves through the delivery room then drops into the dumpster outside. She knows she is in trouble and can’t understand why the police haven’t arrived. AI, that’s a joke. Suddenly a loud bang and rumble echoes through the dumpster. Of course the truck is here. The sound of hydraulic pistons and the dumpster is lifted. Carrie feels her weight shifting, then she is falling into the back of a refuse truck. She hears the dumpster hit the pavement, then the sound of hydraulics again as the driver compacts the load. Carrie is pushed around as the flour, sugar and other bakery debris in her bag is pressed into her. She wills the compactor to stop as it continues to press her into the trash. Her bag pops just as the piston stops and reverses. At least she can breathe easier. More trash is added at each stop with the driver cycling the compactor every three or four loads. Fortunately they have all been at restaurants, though Carrie doesn’t feel very fortunate, she is pinned in a wall of plastic bags and smells fried chicken, fried beans and fried fish. She fights to not be sick. Hydraulic pumps start and Carrie panics, she can’t take another compacting. This time the whole wall moves as the trash is ejected from the truck. Carrie falls from the back and tumbles down a mountain of bags and waste being tossed from her plastic prison in the process. Her hair is plastered with grease and food and she lost a shoe, but she lived through it. The trucks have gone, only the sound of seagulls circling looking for a meal. Carrie can move a little, but getting back up that mountain of trash will be impossible. If she stays here she will surely be buried in trash tomorrow. Carrie hears a faint sound, like someone crumpling plastic wrap in their hand. It’s getting louder. Footsteps. An old man bends down. “You’re a girl, imagine that, I though these old eyes were fooling me again.” He studies the situation then takes out a small pocket knife and cuts the hog tie and wrist cuffs. Carrie sits up and pulls the tape from her mouth, he hands her the knife to cut her ankles free. “Is this one of those initiations?” He said. “I got robbed.” Carrie said. “Didn’t we all, I’ll be happy to share my wealth if you want to look around.” He said. “Thanks, I’ll just look for my shoe.” Carrie said.

Note: This very short story was inspired by the Dec. 6, 2016 New York Post. https://twitter.com/nypost/status/806114238594957312 Carrie is preparing to close the store for the night, well, she is watching the store’s automated systems preparing to close the store. After the last upgrade Carrie wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been fired, the system never has a major failure, it fixes its own minor issues. The supermarket cleans itself, stocks itself and opens and closes itself and answers customer questions by smart phone text all by itself. Her job has been reduced to watching the monitor. No customers detected Restocking and purchase orders complete Preparing end of day reports Carrie logs off the system before the diagnostic reboot, she is supposed to stay until the system comes back up and starts overnight cleaning operations but twenty minutes of pay isn’t worth hanging around for that. Carrie is grabbing her things when the whole place goes pitch black. Power failure. “Why aren’t the emergency lights on?” Carrie said as if the system was going to respond. Her knee slams into a server rack. “Owww, don’t worry about me, stupid piece of junk.” Carrie finds the door and feels her way out of the office. She sees lights, thank goodness. “Hey, over here, help.” Carrie said. A figure approaches. The light strapped to his forehead makes him look like a shadow, but from his size Carrie can tell it’s a man. He grabs her, dragging her further into the dark store and toward the second figure. “My shift is over, you don’t need me to work on the system.” Carrie said. “We’re not fixing the place, we’re robbing the place.” The man holding Carrie said. The second man turns his light on Carrie and the man behind her, she can see he is wearing a ski mask. “You know there’s no money here, right?” Carrie said. “There’s no money anywhere since automation, we’re forced to steal stuff.” He said. “Well you don’t need me for that either.” Carrie said. “Sorry Honey, but you’re staying right here.” Carrie’s wrists are pulled behind her back and secured with plastic cuffs. Several strips of tape are pressed over her mouth and she is lowered to the floor, her ankles are cuffed. “How much time do we have?” “45 minutes before the power comes back on.” The two men get to work rifling through shelves and filling plastic boxes on a push cart, and they’re not being neat about it, spilling food and trampling on containers all over the store. Carrie tries to worm her way out of the bakery aisle toward the entrance and maybe get someone’s attention, but only manages to cover herself in flour, molasses and whatever else is on the floor before one of the men comes back. He sees Carrie’s attempted escape, folds her legs and uses a cable tie to hogtie her, then tells her they’re off. Now she can only wait for the power to come back and the system to report the robbery. After some time Carrie hears the snap of a breaker and the low hum of the computers powering up. It won’t be long now. The system lost power at the start of the diagnostic routine and now displays a message on the terminal. This is where Carrie would recover full function of the system, if she were at the terminal and logged on. The system waits the preprogramed three minutes for input then sends a text to Carrie’s phone to respond to a system failure and initiates post-closing operation in safe mode. Low level lighting comes on, just enough for sensors to scan the store and assess the cleanup required. The job begins by deploying the Spider, Self-Propelled Debris Remover. It looks more like a Hippo with its square shape and large maw. Traveling up and down the aisles, it uses its two arms to sweep trash into the front intake, depositing full trash bags out the back at the end of each aisle. In the bakery aisle Carrie sees the machine coming but can’t get out of the way. The end of the arm moves past her then folds at the center like an elbow catching Carrie in the side and pushing her toward the intake where she is swallowed whole by the machine. Inside she is swept into a large plastic bag as more trash is heaped on top of her. When full her bag is tied and ejected from the back of the machine. Soon the aisles are clear of trash and black plastic trash bags form a row along the dairy and meat section. Carrie struggles but the tight hogtie, sticky contents and the heavy plastic bag itself prevent much movement. She concentrates on creating breathing space. An overhead trolley system collects the bags so floor scrubbers can be deployed. Carrie feels herself being lifted as her bag moves through the delivery room then drops into the dumpster outside. She knows she is in trouble and can’t understand why the police haven’t arrived. AI, that’s a joke. Suddenly a loud bang and rumble echoes through the dumpster. Of course the truck is here. The sound of hydraulic pistons and the dumpster is lifted. Carrie feels her weight shifting, then she is falling into the back of a refuse truck. She hears the dumpster hit the pavement, then the sound of hydraulics again as the driver compacts the load. Carrie is pushed around as the flour, sugar and other bakery debris in her bag is pressed into her. She wills the compactor to stop as it continues to press her into the trash. Her bag pops just as the piston stops and reverses. At least she can breathe easier. More trash is added at each stop with the driver cycling the compactor every three or four loads. Fortunately they have all been at restaurants, though Carrie doesn’t feel very fortunate, she is pinned in a wall of plastic bags and smells fried chicken, fried beans and fried fish. She fights to not be sick. Hydraulic pumps start and Carrie panics, she can’t take another compacting. This time the whole wall moves as the trash is ejected from the truck. Carrie falls from the back and tumbles down a mountain of bags and waste being tossed from her plastic prison in the process. Her hair is plastered with grease and food and she lost a shoe, but she lived through it. The trucks have gone, only the sound of seagulls circling looking for a meal. Carrie can move a little, but getting back up that mountain of trash will be impossible. If she stays here she will surely be buried in trash tomorrow. Carrie hears a faint sound, like someone crumpling plastic wrap in their hand. It’s getting louder. Footsteps. An old man bends down. “You’re a girl, imagine that, I though these old eyes were fooling me again.” He studies the situation then takes out a small pocket knife and cuts the hog tie and wrist cuffs. Carrie sits up and pulls the tape from her mouth, he hands her the knife to cut her ankles free. “Is this one of those initiations?” He said. “I got robbed.” Carrie said. “Didn’t we all, I’ll be happy to share my wealth if you want to look around.” He said. “Thanks, I’ll just look for my shoe.” Carrie said.

Prologue This story really begins five years ago. Victor Maxell was the founder and CEO of Maxell International, the largest and most profitable tech firms in the Santa Barbera area. He had it all: movie star good looks, fast cars, a nice home, and more money than Gates and tons of expensive toys. The only down side to his life was his wife. She was a lovely woman but he only married her because he knocked her up. His marriage was a joke and he needed a distraction and he needed it bad. And he found it. ...

Note: This story has a good and a bad ending. Katie looked out the window with lust at the big pile of garbage that had accumulated in the middle of the cul-de-sac . “They said that they won’t be able to collect the trash for another few weeks,” Said Ron, her husband. “That gives us plenty of time to let you play in that big pile of garbage, if you want”. Ron said to Katie. ...

Tales of Green Valley 2: One Way Trip Mistress Summer was actually more of a Madam than a mistress as she ran a very successful ‘house’ called Summer Place, using her string of sex slaves. She was only 36 and quite sexy herself so she did still turn a few tricks herself when she felt the need for some sexual fun or they ran short of girls. Most of her slaves were illegals, Hispanic or Asian, male and female. They feared to leave, not from threats, but simply because they were never taught English. And Summer gave them time off and occasional gifts. But they stayed and worked hard mostly because she saved a portion of their earnings. They were not really slaves, more indentured servants paying off the cost to acquire them. She would offer language courses and let them attend vocational training once their cost was paid off. ...

Tales of Green Valley 2: One Way Trip Mistress Summer was actually more of a Madam than a mistress as she ran a very successful ‘house’ called Summer Place, using her string of sex slaves. She was only 36 and quite sexy herself so she did still turn a few tricks herself when she felt the need for some sexual fun or they ran short of girls. Most of her slaves were illegals, Hispanic or Asian, male and female. They feared to leave, not from threats, but simply because they were never taught English. And Summer gave them time off and occasional gifts. But they stayed and worked hard mostly because she saved a portion of their earnings. They were not really slaves, more indentured servants paying off the cost to acquire them. She would offer language courses and let them attend vocational training once their cost was paid off. ...

One day as I was on my way to work, I saw a cargo van go by once and then turn at the end of the block. I thought nothing of it at first. As I kept walking down the sidewalk, I saw the same van again. “Maybe he is looking for an address or something,” I thought to myself. The van turned at the end of the block again, this time it turned right instead of left. I thought nothing of it really, because they weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Then as I neared the end of the block, I saw the van again. It turned right in front of me then stopped. The sliding door opened and someone dressed in black with a ski mask on pulled me inside. The door shut and locked as I tried to get up. My attempt was stopped as another person wearing a ski mask helped the other person hold me down. ...

I had convinced my wife to bag me up for a day while she cleaned up the house. Well I seemed to have done more convincing than I thought (or I really pissed her off). She started out Friday night by tightly wrapping my knees to my chest and my arms by my side with plastic wrap. Then she stuffed her sock in my mouth and duct taped my mouth shut. After that she rolled me over to a big 64 gallon black contractor bag and sat me down in the middle then pulled the sides up over my head and placed the folding flaps over me to block my vision of outside the bag. ...

I was on my way to my first group session, one of those places where you all sit around in a circle and talk about your problems. I was going to the ‘I treat women like trash’ group, I had admitted I had a problem. That was the first step, right? It all seemed so straight forward when I arrived. The counsellor introduced himself at the door, shook my hand actually. I fetched myself a coffee, like some of the other guy’s there did and took my seat in the circle. The counsellor began the session, I was eager to hear what some of these guy’s were going to say. I sat forward, ready. The first guy stood up. ...

Georgia was forced into the room. Her arms tightly pinned and bound behind her back, a harness ballgag firmly buckled filling her mouth and a leather blindfold secured over her eyes. She had no idea who had done this to her or even remember how. Susan tugged and yanked her into the middle of the room and positioned her next to a large oil drum. Once in place Susan bent down and immediately began to bind her ankles together roughly. Melissa stepped out of the shadows and stood, arms folded just a few feet in front of Georgia. “Ah, at last here she is” Melissa beamed. Georgia recognised her voice instantly. Unable to see, due to the blindfold she lifted her face in Melissa‘s direction. Finished with her ankles, Susan began to tie Georgia’s legs at the knee, the ropes pulled so tight they bit into her flesh. Georgia moans into her gag, obviously trying to talk. “I really have no interest in anything you have to say, hence the gag you dumb bitch, so just do us all a favour and don’t bother” Melissa barks. Susan, now finished binding Georgia’s legs tightly together, stands beside her holding her steady. “Now lets have a look at these fat trouble makers of yours” Melissa says as she quickly unbuttons Georgia’s light blue shirt, pulling it open to reveal her breasts. Georgia tries to squirm but Susan has a tight hold on her. Melissa pulls her breasts from her bra, gives them a painfully hard squeeze and looks at them for a moment. “Well, not that great… Just the sort of fat meat you’d expect on a rough slut like you” Melissa sneers cruelly. “But I think we can do something with them” She adds pulling out a length of black electrical tape that she deftly begins to tightly wind around the base of one of Georgia’s exposed breasts. Melissa relentlessly winds the tape tighter and tighter around the breast until it is cruelly tight and swollen, and then continues on the other breast until the same desired effect is attained. “There much better” Melissa grins as she roughly grabs at each breast, testing how immediately swollen and hard they have become. Georgia can only squirm and moan at her discomfort as her now painfully swollen and sensitive breasts are manhandled. “I’d be much happier with them now if I were you… But lets put them away” Melissa chuckles as she buttons Georgia’s shirt back up, leaving her tightly bound breasts uncomfortably straining against the material of her shirt. “Now lets put you away too” Melissa chirps, with that Melissa gives Susan a nod and they both quickly lift their captive off her feet and stand her in the oil drum. Georgia is quickly forced to slide down inside the oil drum as both Melissa and Susan push down on her shoulders and force her to sit in the bottom. “You can go for now Susan” Melissa says. Georgia’s confused Susan is one of her best friends and she’d never do something like this to her. “Just give me a shout when you’re ready for the next bit” Susan replies and leaves Melissa and her captive alone. Georgia’s shocked, she recognised her voice and that really was Susan. But why would she help Melissa do something like this. “Comfy” Melissa asks Georgia sarcastically peering into the oil drum. There’s not a lot of room inside and Georgia’s knees are uncomfortably pushed against her tortured breasts. Georgia can only squirm and groan. “You’re jammed in the bottom of an oil drum, but this is what happens next my darling” Melissa pauses for a moment. “I’m going to seal this drum up and lock it, don’t worry there are air holes in the lid for you, but what happens then will be entirely up to you.” Melissa whispers. “I’m going to give you the key to the lock and then you will have to choose… If you think you deserve to, all you need to do is simply unlock the drum and you can leave” Melissa whispered sweetly. Georgia was shocked and confused, how could she unlock the drum from inside! “But… If you think you’re a worthless fat titted slut like I do… Just stay in there and I’ll happily drop you off at the dump… I’ll put you deep in the landfill site where you’ll be buried under tons of garbage… Where you can die and rot like trash!” Melissa spat with obvious malice. Georgia was franticly trying to struggle and squirm, moaning and crying into her gag. But she was utterly helpless. She froze for a moment, she heard the clang as Melissa tossed the key into the oil drum with her. “I’ll give you five minutes to make you mind up… but we both know you’ll make the right choice” Melissa taunted Georgia. The lid was on the oil drum within a moment, and Georgia heard the slight metallic click of the padlock being snapped shut. Georgia was helpless, cruelly bound, harshly gagged, blindfolded and locked inside the oil drum. She frantically tried to scrabble around the bottom of the drum to find the key, but she could barely move, it was cramped inside and her hands were numb from the tight ropes. What good would the key do, the padlock the key was for was on the outside of the drum, and she and the key were inside. “Times up” Melissa called and banged on the top of the drum. Five minutes already. Georgia was terrified. Melissa wouldn’t really do this, she wouldn’t go through with it. “Good! I knew you’d make the right choice” Melissa taunted from outside. Georgia felt the oil drum shift, tilt and then move quickly. Melissa was moving the oil drum on a dolly. She felt every bump and bounce as she was quickly wheeled outside. “Come on Susan lets get this loaded” Melissa called out as she wheeled the oil drum towards the van. Melissa and Susan struggled and heaved to get the drum into the back of the van, but managed to handle it into an upright position in the back. Georgia was sobbing uncontrollably into her gag. Not a sound escaping the oil drum she was inescapably sealed in. “Right off to the dump with you then” Melissa called out and banged the van doors shut. ...

Adele batted his hand away. “Hey! Stop that.” He put his hand back on her tit. He had his other hand in her hair, holding her head as he kissed her, a teeth grinding kiss. “Jesus Andy!” He fumbled the buttons on her blouse, tugged at the thin fabric. “Never done it here before. Done it everywhere else but here, baby. This is gonna be something you never forget.” She wasn’t wearing a front-clasp bra. She always wore that bra for him. He wrapped his arms around her, slipped the catch, slid his hands under the cups, squeezed her tits - hard. ...

Rebecca looked nervously around the basement. No one was around, but she still blushed at the thought of getting caught doing what she was about to do. Well, the blush was part excitement and part embarrassment, but still it would be much easier if no one else in the building found out about her little game. In the basement corner squatted a nice big pile of stuffed shiny black trash bags - the building’s refuse for the last couple of days. Just looking at it made her heart race, made her squirm. She wanted nothing more than to be bound and stuffed in one of those soft shiny bags, to be left there for an indeterminate period to reflect on her position. For months she’d been thinking about it, and had some wonderful session masturbating to the mental pictures - now, on a cool Monday afternoon, it was time to do something about her fantasies! ...

She had been nervously walking up and down the street, unsure as to actually knock the door or not. She had to she thought to herself. She knocked the door. A man quickly opened the door. “Yes?” He asked gruffly. “Are you Doctor Vader?” She shuffled and asked nervously. “I am, and you are?” He abruptly asked. “My name is Georgia” She had barely said her name and the man was already swinging the door shut on her. ...

Georgia woke feeling a little groggy and unsure. She didn’t remember getting home from work the night before. She tried to stretch her arms, but she couldn’t. The fog in her mind clearing quickly now, unable to move her arms quickly realising she couldn’t move her legs either. Georgia’s panic rose as she took in her surroundings, she wasn’t in her bed, she wasn’t in her room, she hadn’t gotten home last night! She tried to call out but just a meagre whimper escaped her, she was gagged too. Fear overtook her and she tried to thrash and struggle, but it was useless her arms and legs tightly wound with black electrical tape, the rubbery tape unforgiving in her restriction. ...

Jane Harris was a high roller living in her third floor deluxe apartment in the centre of town she was not short of a penny, although she was a kept woman by her mother and father and thought nothing about blowing a few hundred in a night out. Stepping out a hot shower in the evening she adjust her towel around her very toned and curvy body, grabbing her mobile off the side she browsed her messages as she stepped out onto her balcony to watch the sunset, at that moment she received a message but because her phone was on vibrate it made her jump and she dropped it into a dumpster down below. Not thinking she shot out of her apartment into the lift and out the rear entrance, only thinking once outside that she was half naked, climbing up onto the dumpster she looked in and could see her phone laying in what looked like industrial waste. She leaned in as far as she could but could reach it finally just as she was about to give up she lost her footing falling head first, as she fell in she hit the door and it came slamming down after her snagging on her towel and ripping it from her body. Two hours later Jane awoke from a blow to the head, Jane had sunk deep into the rubbish within the dumpster, there was a strong smell of solvents in the air, and when she went to call for help she found her mouth to be stuck fast with glue that had leaked over her. Thinking she would look for her phone so she could text for help, she soon found out she was stuck to a large off-cut of plastic and her back and arms were completely fused to the sheet. Kicking out to gain attention she quickly lost her strength as the solvent overpowered her knocking her out, Jane lay there naked with her 38dd on show to anyone who wanted to look or touch. Morning came and the noise of the bin men woke her up, lifting her on to a state of the art compactor the trucks on board computer weighed the dumpster and concluded that there was no need to empty this bin, compaction would be the best course of action. Jane franticly tried to get the attention of the bin men as the compactor shot to life, if she could of been heard the words “noooooooooo” would have come out of her mouth. As the bin compacted tubes of liquid burst over her legs covering her in a sticky substance, large plastic tubes headed towards her so she put out her feet to stop them but the force of the truck was too great and the tubes push up over both of her feet and carried on being push up her legs like a pair of very solid tights. Squirming to escape Jane could only watch helpless as the tubes engulfed her thighs and finally stopped at her groin, with the glue setting in the tubes her legs were now useless to her she was spread eagled and stuck to base of the bin. When the second wave of the compactor came rubbish pushed up hard against her exposed pussy in seconds her old mobile phone was being pushed into her pussy by a hard plastic cylinder, forcing her pussy to bursting point the large intruder disappeared halfway into her love tunnel as the compactors second wave continued. Then in what Jane thought was a miracle the compactor broke down in mid compaction, Jane hoped in vain they had stopped it because they knew she was in there. Glue tricked down onto her nipples that were being squeezed hard by the waste around her, setting hard on her defenceless nipples the glue stuck her to the waste above her that was now also stuck to the compactor side of the bin. Hearing the truck roar back to life she freaked as the compactor return the side of the bin her nipples were stuck to, to the opposite side pulling hard on her nipples it stretched them far beyond their limits, screaming into her gag Jane didn’t notice the bin men leave. Moments later Jane received a text on the phone lodged inside her pussy and the vibration put her straight on the edge, then she received call after call from a worried mother causing her to eventually climax. She lay exhausted hour after hour she received call after call driving her pussy insane, causing her body to arch back in orgasm giving her severe pain in her nipples. Days later Jane’s bin was taken away to be emptied and a picker at the recycling plant found her all glued up and in need of help, putting her in his van he drove away, yet again Jane was expecting that she was saved but she was very wrong as the man drove past the local hospital heading out of town to his house, sporting an erection. ...

Linda pulled her Toyota Yaris into the drive leading to the back of the daycare center where she worked. It had taken her two years to work up to the manager position, an incredible feat when you consider that she wasn’t overly fond of children. She originally took the job because it was a choice between working at the daycare center or the local doner kebab joint. She figured it would be easier dealing with children than drunks and bovver boys jonesing for transfat-saturated meat products. The job was easier than she’d anticipated, though she still winced whenever one of the children hollered or yelped. ...

Kris was a popular high school senior, with equally popular and attractive eighteen year old friends just like her. “Just like her” in the sense that they were pretty, and impossibly shallow, and usually attracted guys just long enough for them to get the first fuck. So the saying goes, “why buy the cow when the milk is free?” The guys probably thought the proverbial free milk was kind of sour, and not worth the second helping! Kris only started counting when she turned eighteen, but was over thirty guys so far. She was especially popular because a perpetual ache problem left her on “the pill”, so she was a no condom girl for the guys, with clear skin. Or as they saw it, a pretty place for them to dump their cum. Kris had a problem, she had wrecked her new C300 for the third time by texting while driving, and her parents were getting strict. They wouldn’t let her use one of their other cars this time until hers was repaired, and one of the necessary parts had to come from Germany, after Mercedes made it! They also took away her phone, as necessary to a popular teenager as oxygen! She realized she would be without a car for weeks, and popular girls didn’t ride the school bus. So far she was getting by with bumming rides from her friends, until she found herself stranded at the mall, and the real trouble was about to start. She had seen her friend Beth’s newest boyfriend at the mall and told him she needed a ride home. He was only too happy to show off his new red sports car to Kris, she knew he would be after the look he gave her in her new Victoria Secret Summer dress, and high heeled sandals. Kris suspected she would “have to pay” for this trip one way or the other, but she didn’t mind because she regularly gave it away for free anyway. Just before her house Tim pulled the small car into a dark trail as far as the low car could go, and shut off the engine. There was so much lust inside the small car you could smell it in the air! Tim put his hand on Kris’ thigh and rubbed back and forth and said he liked her new dress. She said she thought he would, and she noticed with every rub the hem of the skimpy white dress crept higher. Kris told him half heartily they should stop, because if Beth found out it would be trouble, implying that would be the only reason TO stop now. Tim said he wouldn’t tell if she didn’t, and that was all she needed to hear. Her new panties were damp, and in the way of her fun, so she stripped them off without lifting the skimpy dress and hung them on his rear view mirror. At the same time he was struggling to strip off his pants and shorts while still in the drivers seat, all possible thanks to a tilt steering wheel, and reclining bucket seat. ...

Kris was a popular high school senior, with equally popular and attractive eighteen year old friends just like her. “Just like her” in the sense that they were pretty, and impossibly shallow, and usually attracted guys just long enough for them to get the first fuck. So the saying goes, “why buy the cow when the milk is free?” The guys probably thought the proverbial free milk was kind of sour, and not worth the second helping! Kris only started counting when she turned eighteen, but was over thirty guys so far. She was especially popular because a perpetual ache problem left her on “the pill”, so she was a no condom girl for the guys, with clear skin. Or as they saw it, a pretty place for them to dump their cum. Kris had a problem, she had wrecked her new C300 for the third time by texting while driving, and her parents were getting strict. They wouldn’t let her use one of their other cars this time until hers was repaired, and one of the necessary parts had to come from Germany, after Mercedes made it! They also took away her phone, as necessary to a popular teenager as oxygen! She realized she would be without a car for weeks, and popular girls didn’t ride the school bus. So far she was getting by with bumming rides from her friends, until she found herself stranded at the mall, and the real trouble was about to start. ...

Kris was a popular high school senior, with equally popular and attractive eighteen year old friends just like her. “Just like her” in the sense that they were pretty, and impossibly shallow, and usually attracted guys just long enough for them to get the first fuck. So the saying goes, “why buy the cow when the milk is free?” The guys probably thought the proverbial free milk was kind of sour, and not worth the second helping! Kris only started counting when she turned eighteen, but was over thirty guys so far. She was especially popular because a perpetual ache problem left her on “the pill”, so she was a no condom girl for the guys, with clear skin. Or as they saw it, a pretty place for them to dump their cum. Kris had a problem, she had wrecked her new C300 for the third time by texting while driving, and her parents were getting strict. They wouldn’t let her use one of their other cars this time until hers was repaired, and one of the necessary parts had to come from Germany, after Mercedes made it! They also took away her phone, as necessary to a popular teenager as oxygen! She realized she would be without a car for weeks, and popular girls didn’t ride the school bus. So far she was getting by with bumming rides from her friends, until she found herself stranded at the mall, and the real trouble was about to start. She had seen her friend Beth’s newest boyfriend at the mall and told him she needed a ride home. He was only too happy to show off his new red sports car to Kris, she knew he would be after the look he gave her in her new Victoria Secret Summer dress, and high heeled sandals. Kris suspected she would “have to pay” for this trip one way or the other, but she didn’t mind because she regularly gave it away for free anyway. Just before her house Tim pulled the small car into a dark trail as far as the low car could go, and shut off the engine. There was so much lust inside the small car you could smell it in the air! Tim put his hand on Kris’ thigh and rubbed back and forth and said he liked her new dress. She said she thought he would, and she noticed with every rub the hem of the skimpy white dress crept higher. Kris told him half heartily they should stop, because if Beth found out it would be trouble, implying that would be the only reason TO stop now. Tim said he wouldn’t tell if she didn’t, and that was all she needed to hear. Her new panties were damp, and in the way of her fun, so she stripped them off without lifting the skimpy dress and hung them on his rear view mirror. At the same time he was struggling to strip off his pants and shorts while still in the drivers seat, all possible thanks to a tilt steering wheel, and reclining bucket seat. ...

Part 1 It has always been a dream / fetish of mine to be wraped up in black rubbish sacks and used by a beautiful lady then put away untill she wanted to use me again. When i meet my wife (Kate) i was unsure as to tell her my secret of making large bags, getting in and enjoying myself, to this day i still have not told her i choose to play on my own when she is out. Anyway on with the story ...

With thanks to Linda (dirty_trashbag_girl) I met Linda through Fetlife and a couple of other trashbagging groups, we began just by messaging about our mutual interests in bags, trash and compactors, then we started roleplaying and developed a few good scenarios that we played out online. Linda or myself would get into a trashbag and play what the other directed, it was all great fun and we developed a rapport and trust over time that eventually allowed us to meet in person. ...

[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! ...

You wake up, and blink at us sleepily. You’re cute, all snuggled up in bed and with the covers pulled up tight around you. I’m still on the fence about all this, but Jen is here with me, and she’s sure to make sure I follow through with this. You start, realizing that something’s not right, and I guess you feel a little vulnerable having your girlfriend and her best friend stare down at you as you sleep. As you start to sit up, Jen drops a heavy canvas bag on the bed. You eye it suspiciously as you try to shake off sleep. ...

I lookup at the clock. Nearly time to close. The last few customer’s mill about the store, picking up various odds and ends. I’m pretty certain that none of them are going to buy anything. I look over to Sarah, the shift manager, and ask “Sarah, do you mind if I go now?” Sarah peers about the store, and shakes her head, “No Linda, It’s fine. Been a slow night. I’ll see to the deposit and closing things out. Do run the trash to the chute on your way out though”. I nod to Sarah, smiling. All in all, this gig at the mall isn’t so bad. Especially since Sarah fired Jessica. She’d been skimming from the tills, and I called her on it. Sarah got her ass fired, and now things are a bit more tolerable here. ...

I was in a rush. I’d spent too long as usual making myself look presentable - but I was looking pretty, though I say so myself. My waitressing shift was due to start in 20 minutes and I had some bills to pay along the way, so I’d better get a move on. “Ryan, where’s that tin that was on the fireplace?” I asked my son, who was sitting on the sofa reading a comic book. ...

If you’re the author of this story please let me know. This is a fantasy of mine that I’ve enjoyed thinking about lately. “I’ve had another long night at the theater again tonight, can you come to see me? We’ll be alone and we can play around if your up for it.” I have been working for the multi-plex movie theater at the edge of town since I graduated high school and worked my way to manager after a few years. It has it’s benefits but has some long hours. ...

She grabs his balls and squeezes them as Her slave almost drops to his knees in pain. “Do you wanna cum slave?” She asks. The Mistress is about six feet tall and dressed head to toe in sleak, black rubber. he nods his head up and down. The five foot slave is naked and gagged with his hands bound behind his back with black duct tape. A thin, leather cord is wrapped and tied tightly around his hard cock and shaved balls. ...

04:03 am, there is a garbage bag beside me, inside of it, there is a layer of scrunched up paper. This time, I managed to get a whole pile of no print news paper from a local printing company they produce at the beginning of a new run saying it was for a kids project. That will prevent me from getting all black and dirty as I saw me when I got home after my first experience in a dumpster. ...

Note: Based on a short story found on the net. As I arrive at her house she is ready and waiting for me, as I am 15min late. She points to a kitchen chair placed in the hallway and orders me to “Strip.” I quickly get out of my clothes and place them neatly in a pile on the chair. I get down on all fours and crawl as quickly as I can from the hallway down into her kitchen. ...

I’d had a hard couple of weeks at work, a few contracts needed to be finalised in a hurry and the pressure had been on me. Finally getting the paperwork finished and signed off, I left for home and a long weekend, three days to unwind and relax. I arrived home to find my husband sitting on the lounge with a big grin on his face, I knew that he had something planned when he looked like this, it always involved me bound and ending up having a great time. He spoke, “You’d best get undressed.” ...

I remember meeting him on the train going into work. He was dressed like some kind of goth: a black leather trenchcoat worn over a black t-shirt, black spandex tights, and black leather workboots. He also had gorgeous, fluffy dark hair. He sat in the seat across from me, flashed me a quick smile, and began reading a broadsheet newspaper. He would rustle the paper quite noisily everytime he turned a page. I don’t think he was doing that to annoy me, however. ...

Nancy has different summer plans for her husband, as marriage counseling doesn’t always work out. A caustic tale of rotting, fetid garbage, unknown outcomes and a ride to the town’s transfer station. The acrid, putrid smell of my last 2 days permeates every pore of my sweat-drenched body. It is indescribable the ooze and slime that grows on everything on or near me, enveloping my every naked orifice. The odor has gotten so caustic that I can’t even sense the smell that continues to rot around me in my drum. ...

It was hotter than he had expected. Granted, it was October and the weather outside had taken on a definite fall chill in the air so the radiator inside the apartment was steaming full blast, but he had not thought that it would be so warm and actually humid bundled as he was in the two huge, zip-tied trash bags. He was sweating bullets, and starting to reek from his own body odor in the close confines, never mind the rancid smelling garbage that Judy had dumped into the bags and over him before going to bed - how long ago? ...

Jo is a student, living in a small flat with several roommates. Her appearance, is stunning, at least to guys. Not too tall, long blonde hair, a very nice face and some great curves. But she isn’t a very tidy girl, her school work is slacking, and she loves to party. Well, besides from typical student behavior, she also invites her friends over regularly to party. All roommates do the same but the parties Jo throws almost always getting out of hand. Usually it ends with several drunk girls and guys, shouting and breaking stuff, generally causing a nuisance all over the flat. By then, Jo is usually nowhere to be seen, often diving in bed with one or two of the hunks she invites. Of course, this causes lot of trouble for the other roommates, who end up cleaning up after her, because after a party, she sleeps till midday. And we all know how much mess a party can give. ...

I was sitting at my computer when Hank came up to me, wrapping his arms around my chest and pressing his muzzle against the back of my ears. His breath was warm on my fur & teased my ears. His arms were strong, held tight under my chest and he had the smell of trash lingering over him. No surprise as he was a garbage man. It was how we met in fact. ...

He could see her coming out of the office, the last member of the varsity volleyball team locking up the equipment. Every practice, the team took turns locking up the gym and leaving last. Tonight was her turn, and he was more than ready. There was no one else on campus, even the coaches and most devoted teachers had gone home. The sun had set, the lights were almost all out, and they were the only two left. ...

(story continues from Recycled 3) Part 4 I was exhausted already as I reached the foot of the stairs. It had been hard, worming my way forward with my hands and elbows bound behind my back, my ankles tied, but I knew that I had to if I wanted eventual release… My girlfriend Lisa and I liked to play bondage games you see, just to spice up our relationship and have a little fun. We had both spent many an hour at the other’s mercy; bound and gagged and writhing in ecstasy for the other’s pleasure. This past long weekend however, we had stepped things up a bit and tried a new fetish that I had been interested in. Lisa and I were both off work for three days, so I had convinced her to tie me up and gag me for the duration, then finally to secure me in industrial strength and huge recycling and trash bags and to treat me as garbage. Lisa had put me through some paces, and I could tell that she had loved the dominance and my helplessness by the way that she had treated me and got into the whole thing. She HAD treated me like the day’s trash and threw me out with the garbage, basically taking me downstairs to the garbage room after hours at her merciless torment, actually threatening to leave me to the tender loving hands of New York Sanitation, to be hauled away to Staten Island eventually and buried in the landfill there. ...

Rachel was an ordinary looking 21 year old single student. She shared a ground floor flat with four other girls for a year now and it was sad for her to see them go home for the summer. Rachel herself was staying on, her parents owned the flat, she was going to get a summer job somewhere and keep the flat occupied for the insurance policy. Although great friends with the girls she had never told them of any of her fetishes. She never had the guts to do it but loved the idea of indulging in her fantasies without them knowing, and the risk of being caught made it even better! ...

Authors Note: I have wanted to write a garbage story since Gromet first put this category on the site. I didn’t know quite how it would fit together, but the outline eventually took shape. It can be a little rough in places, but I always wanted a cat fight in one of my stories, so…. This also reminds me of a girl I used to know. She liked to wear bin bags and get smothered in goop. Hmmm (Fond memories). Anyway, enjoy. ...

My second trashbag story, combining my love of self bondage and discovery, along with being objectified and bagged - hope you enjoy. I had the day to myself, a rare day off during the working week and my wife was working today, the house was mine. After eating breakfast and some cleaning up, throwing some garbage into a bag in the kitchen that I would place in the bin later, I decided to check my emails. They turned out to be mostly spam and other junk mail, then there was one that sparked my curiosity, clicking on the link lead me to a story about someone being enclosed in a garbage bag and dumped. The story was on some group and clicking on the links I found several more stories that contained various forms of play involving trash, dumpster and most important of all - bondage. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life will result in injury or death. My second trashbag story, combining my love of self bondage and discovery, along with being objectified and bagged - hope you enjoy. I had the day to myself, a rare day off during the working week and my wife was working today, the house was mine. After eating breakfast and some cleaning up, throwing some garbage into a bag in the kitchen that I would place in the bin later, I decided to check my emails. They turned out to be mostly spam and other junk mail, then there was one that sparked my curiosity, clicking on the link lead me to a story about someone being enclosed in a garbage bag and dumped. The story was on some group and clicking on the links I found several more stories that contained various forms of play involving trash, dumpster and most important of all - bondage. ...

I heard the noise that I had been waiting for and literally jumped from the warmth of my bed before quickly running to the closest window. I heard Beth stirring behind me, rolling over but still safe and secure under the covers as I pulled the window curtains aside and pressed my face to the cool glass staring out and down. There was still a thin coating of snow in the shadowy corners and the street was damp and shining in the early light of the sun. A beautiful day by the looks of it, and quiet but for the rumble of the huge grinding engine and the ‘spflang’ of the dumpster’s massive arms. I stared at the garbage truck in all its glory. ...

I had thought of everything, I was very thorough in my preparations. The dumpster would be delivered on Thursday afternoon, and would stay till Wednesday evening, around 3:00-4:00pm. I would have time to play my games inside the dumpster all that time. I had gone to the store and gotten 55 gallon trashcan liners, the heavy reinforced ones, two boxes. My house was full of old things to throw out, but I took the last four months looking for garbage that I could stuff into the dumpster and not get hurt by. ...

“Holidays from as little as £10” said the advert. Jill Smith looked at it. “It looks rubbish to me. It can’t be that good!” she said to her husband Barry. She continued, “Any holiday for £10 can’t be all that it is cracked up to be!” Barry looked at her and said “It is cheap, we can’t afford much this year. We only use it as a base and as it has a bar, for a drink at night!” ...

Tina always tipped her dustman if she had anything big to take away. They were always willing to oblige for a few pounds. In fact last week, Tina had started to decorate her front room. She had pulled up the 20 foot by 13 foot carpet. She had struggled with it and had eventually got it rolled up and taped. The dustmen took it without any problem. She had stripped the walls and had lots of bags full of torn wallpaper. As she filled them, she had put them in her front garden to await collection. But she only had the one bag of rubbish as she lived on her own. ...

It must have been about seven thirty in the morning when she walked out the door wearing her wetsuit, it clung to her lean body like a second skin keeping her warm in the September sun. She walked across the parking lot of her apartment complex, past her car, past the trees and the walkway. She then stopped and opened a door on the Dumpster, and tried to push her bag of trash into it. It was near full and reluctant to take it, but she persisted. ...

Walking out the door I saw the giant trashcan sitting out under the carport. Big black and brand new, no trash had yet gone inside of it. Thinking about it excited me. My girlfriend knew of all my fetishes surrounding bondage- but I don’t think I have ever told her of my deepest desires surrounding trash. Today was Thanksgiving, and we were going out to meet with family. We had cooked up a storm, and all the trash has been building up in the kitchen. It seemed a little funny to me that she had not taken it out - rather she purposefully placed it to the side of the door, staging it for some reason. We packed all the food, and loaded the car to go out for a family feast at her mother’s house. ...

Cathy opened the door and saw her runaway 16 year old daughter Brianna along with a police officer. “Good morning Ms. Smith, I found your daughter.” “Where was she this time?” asked Cathy. “I saw her walking behind some warehouses and chased around back. I eventually found her hiding in a dumpster.” “Well thank you very much officer. I’m sorry this keep happening, but I can promise you this will be the last time Brianna runs away from home.” ...

The car bounces down the deserted lane, it is evening, and its lights wobbly as the car slowly makes its way into the gathering gloom. A cold wind blows, and it is threatening to rain. The vehicle stops, and a man gets out. He opens the boot, and looks around. Although a lot of people do use this track, for jogging, for transit from the new estate half a mile away to the old estate, there is no one in sight tonight, the weather, which has started to spit a cold drizzle, has driven most folks indoors. ...

“Trash Day” 3:45 AM 8/19/99 It was a warm Wednesday morning, John had just woke up and Charlene was already up. He asked her what she was doing? She said, “It was time to clean this place up!” Charlene was upset from hearing John bitching about how messy the house was. Charlene left and went to the store, she had to get some things to clean the house. When she got home she found John still in bed, she told him to stay out of her way because she was going to get rid of all the garbage in the house this week. ...

Julie stands in the kitchen next to the full trashcan as her roommate Audrey unleashes her anger. Not doing her chores, not contributing to the household, Julie is not listening as the tirade continues, she’s heard this all before. It wasn’t Julies fault. Well, it was, putting out the trash for collection is her chore. Julie had done it again, sitting in a chair staring into the last few days’ kitchen waste deep in fantasy. She had simply lost track of the time. ...

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. ...

Recycled - Part One I met my girlfriend Lisa some five years ago. We both worked at a local supermarket in Brooklyn, she being a cashier while I was a stock clerk. We hit it off pretty well, friendly like at first; taking lunch and breaks together, riding the same train going home, that sort of thing. It took a couple years before we actually became a couple though, and that only happened through a queer twist of fate. ...

(story continues from Recycled) Recycled: Part 2 I spent a long and restless night bound and gagged and triple wrapped in plastic garbage bags set roughly on the cold, hard floor of the hallway… How had I come to this you might ask? Hell, I was asking that myself, over and over. It had been my idea, truly, though it had not taken much convincing on my part. The bondage part was nothing new of course. My girlfriend, Lisa and I had been playing bondage games for a few years now, ever since we finally discovered that we shared the common desire and fetish. Most generally I was the recipient of her ‘tender’ mercies as I was the one who was more submissive while she often showed that she had crueler, wicked tendencies, at least in our games. Nothing severe mind; Lisa loved having me under her control and power on occasion, and for my part I reciprocated. I loved being tied and got off on the humiliation and embarrassment of being bound and gagged to her whim, then held, sometimes for hours at a time while she walked about our apartment, flaunting her freedom. ...

(story continues from Recycled 2) Recycled: Part 3 Author’s Note: I noticed a couple discrepancies between Parts 1 and 2. Nothing major I suppose, but I wanted to explain. First, the name of the main protagonist shifted from Ken to Kirk between the first two parts. Also, the packing in the victim’s mouth changed from a scarf to crusty socks. I blame this on the fact that I wrote the 2 issues on 2 separate computers. My own fault, in my rush to get the story off, though I read through for grammar, I didn’t read for continuity’s sake. In this part 3 I kept the errors in place as the former did not seem consequential, and the latter actually added to the story. Hopefully it reads well… ...

Lydia returned home from a hard day at work, she worked in an office at the local recycling centre and often found herself working long boring hours. One of the things she looked forward to on her returning home was her flatmate Fiona, who had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. They would often share their secrets to each other, and often these would be of a sexual nature. Fiona had learned of Lydia’s love of being tied up and treated as an object, and had treated her friend to some games as her way to help her relax when she’d come home from work. ...

(Previous Green Valley Tale: Tales of Green Valley: Volleyball Team) Tales of Green Valley 2: One Way Trip Mistress Summer was actually more of a Madam than a mistress as she ran a very successful ‘house’ called Summer Place, using her string of sex slaves. She was only 36 and quite sexy herself so she did still turn a few tricks herself when she felt the need for some sexual fun or they ran short of girls. ...

(story continues from That New Car Smell Part 1: Veronica’s New Car Experience) Part 2: No Free Ride to the Dealership Veronica was in a panic. She had no idea it was pick up time. The garbage men seemed to be on a strict routine and were never more then a couple minutes off schedule. That could only mean she had been in the disgusting dungeon for over an hour while looking for her receipts. She tried to scream for the Sanitation Engineer to help her. However the heavyset man had his I-Pod on under his OSHA approved hearing protection and was oblivious to the woman screaming inside. Before hooking onto the bin, he activated the compactor one last time to minimize the amount of garbage that would fall out of the trailer during transit. ...

My girlfriend has known for some time that I enjoy being tied up. I really enjoy the feeling of plastic next to my skin so I was able to encourage her to wrap me up with plastic food wrap. This of course leads to all sorts of fun and interesting activities. We added different routines to our extracurricular activities such as gags, cock-rings, etc. To my surprise one night, after she had wrapped me up, instead of using her panties, sock or a bag to gag me with she produced what I can only describe as a gag-dildo. Wow what a night. ...

(story continues from The Trash Wife) Part 2: My Reward The week had been particularly stressful, the business we run has had several large orders to complete in a hurry, this involved a lot of hours and work from the people we employ and me as the accounts manager responsible for all the paperwork side. Great for the company - but a busy time for me. I managed to get the paperwork done by Friday lunchtime and the orders were shipped that day to the clients, I was pleased that everything went smoothly and now that the orders were done we could go home. All the staff were happy when I told them that they could go once the orders were shipped, so most of the staff took off with the last one leaving about 3pm. ...

(story continues from What You See is Not Always What You Get…) Part Two How slowly time advances when you are eagerly awaiting it. The few days from our last date to Wednesday seemed to go on forever. Tuesday evening I arrived home from work to find the message light blinking on my answering machine. I prayed that it was not someone trying to sell me a vacuum cleaner…. Eagerly, but with apprehension, I pushed the button to playback my message. It was DeeDee! Hooray, I thought to myself. ...