(story continues from The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 4: Christine’s Party) Book 5: David Screws Up I’m not exactly sure what I’ve done. All I know is I’ve done SOMETHING to upset Christine. Cause, now, I find myself trapped, tied up in Jennifer’s now empty personal trash compactor. My mouth is free of a gag, mostly cause Christine knows I won’t call for help. Not that it would do any good anyway. ...
“Uncle Dave? You know who that is don’t you?” “Who?” “The redhead over yonder.” Dave shrugged. “Said she was in culinary school and as a class project she had to help in the cook-off.” “Well, that’s Caitlin Ballard, old man Ballard’s granddaughter.” “You sure? Said her name was Tracy Simms or Simmons, something like that.” “Uh uh. She goes to Western. They play us in basketball. She’s a cheerleader and they had a picture of the squad in the program. I kinda had a thing for her, so I asked around. She’s old man Ballard’s kin for sure.” ...
It was just another Thursday night, another drive all around town… checking out the dumpsters. I turned the radio up… yawn. Another rerun of “This American Life”, one of my favorite radio shows. Ira, I’ve heard it all before. I switched on the ipod and played some ambient techno stuff, it always relaxes me when I do this. Soft music played as I whizzed around town behind restaurants, inside apartment complexes, searching for a perfect trash bin in which to indulge myself. See, I’ve got this trash fetish. Wait, before you judge me. It’s strange I know, but totally harmless. Since I was a kid, I’ve just always loved being around the stuff. It turns me on for reasons I can’t explain. So, rather than denying it, I’ve chosen to embrace it and just enjoy my weekly jerkoff inside a smelly dumpster. Let me tell you, if you could understand how happy it makes me, you might try it yourself. ...
(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. ...
(story continues from The Bins Next Door) Part Two I was well and truly panicking now as I struggled again in vain against the moist plastic garbage pile that surrounded me on all sides. I tried desperately to make some noise that might be heard by a passer by, but against the tight sealed tape over my mouth, all I could manage was a vague “mmmmm” noise, and I knew that even if someone stood right outside my steel trash prison, they would never hear it above the noise of the passing traffic. I had totally lost track of time, but I knew that from the fact that I was here at least one night, then Jake the garbarge boy would soon be here to do his job, and sweep away the trash to make way for another weeks load of spoil. ...
Cheryl’s first indication that things were wrong was when she walked onto the high school stage and the rest of the drama club wasn’t there. She looked at her watch. Five fifteen p.m., she was only a little bit late for rehearsal. She dumped her backpack on the floor and headed to the props room. When she opened the door, someone grabbed her hand and yanked her forward so that she fell on the floor. She screamed and tried to get up, but a heavy weight pressed on her back and held her still. A hand clamped around her mouth as her hands were pulled up behind her back and tied. Her kicking legs were grabbed and tied, with rope cinching around her ankles and then crisscrossing around her calves and up her thighs, the knots pinching her skin even through her jeans. ...
Part 1: First Time Britney realized her submissive side early in life and was equally fortunate when her best friend Julie playfully dominated her one night during a sleepover. By high school Britney was regularly catering to her future owner’s needs, carrying her books, cleaning her locker, washing her car dressed in whatever getup she desired and making sure her more personal needs were met. Julie’s parent were quite well off, so it was easy for her to get her future slave inappropriate clothing for a high school teenager. By their senior year she had became her full time slave. ...
I watched every single Thursday morning as the garbage truck shuddered to a halt in the service yard next door. I worked in an IT sales company, which was on a main road next to a huge restaurant and drive through complex. That place had bank machines, sit down cafe, off license, the works. It was really handy when you needed something on the way home from work, but it was very dear. ...
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. ...
(story continues from The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 3: Jennifer’s Revenge) Book 4: Christine’s Party “David, can you take take out the trash for me before we go?” I look up from my spot on the couch, instantly setting my newspaper down. Within moments, the rather heavy cans of garbage are on the curb. I stand there a moment, reminiscening about the time I was amongst those cans. Oh what an experience. ...