Gromet's Plaza Trashcan Stories
College Dumpster Dive
by S M Ackerman
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© Copyright 2010 - S M Ackerman - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; chast; denial; sbf; naked; cuffs; gag; bagged; dumpster; college; toys; insert; stuck; cons; X
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.

S M Ackerman is the diarist for (The Diary of Miss Whippy Cane) she is a professional dominatrix and the owner of an established house that caters for the fetishistic desires of selected clients, all names have been altered for her clients privacy. The story is available from both Pegusus Publishers and Amazon. This tale is not included in, or an exert from, the above diary and is made available free of charge to all genuine readers over the age of 18 in the UK or as is applicable else where please. Enjoy if you will. S.M.

College Dumpster Dive by S M Ackerman Solo-F; chast; denial; sbf; naked; cuffs; gag; bagged; dumpster; college; toys; insert; stuck; cons; X

My name is Rachael and I work at a senior college. My days are spent dealing with a variety of trivial student problems, ranging from lost papers, to girl/boy friend dumped scenarios. I assist and smooth and counsel and help at every twist and turn of a student life. Dealing with nearly six hundred, nineteen year old student angst’s takes it out of you.

I have over the years explored my own desires in many ways, I find that being sexually sated and feeling fulfilled makes my job that much easier to do, but unfortunately; recently, a very strange desire has exploded in my mind and there is quite a lot of risk and possible humiliation in fulfilling it.

I like bondage I always have, and being single (by choice I will point out!) My pleasures so far have had to be along the lines of self-bondage, but now I want something more exciting! I read a story of someone who found a new variance on the bondage theme; it took the form of self-bondage in a dump. At first I thought ‘yuk’ at the slime covered body and the smell, but the more I thought about it, the more intriguing it became!

Binding myself up in a garbage dump developed in my thoughts, I found myself masturbating and thinking about how it might feel! At first just thinking about it brought me off, but as with all fantasies, the thought soon lost its power to satisfy, and the demand to feel the slime and suffer coupled with the smell took hold of my day-dreams.

I knew that if I carried on playing with myself I would never get horny enough to actually do the things in my day-dreams. For them to become a reality I needed to be very frustrated, so horny in fact that the risk of being caught would fade in my thoughts, swamped out by my desires.

I have a chastity belt, a metal affair with a single lock, once it is on there is no way to get either it or myself off without the key. To deal with the key I concoct a plan, it in itself is quite risky, but if it works out then I will have quite a while to build up the sexual tension I will need to force myself to risk my dumpster-day.

Having locked my belt in place I took the key and put it in a self-addressed envelope, which I placed inside of another, which I addressed second class to a friend, with a note asking her, if ‘sometime’ she would post the envelope back to me (no hurry I added as an after thought) as I was testing my post delivery. I then sent it to her and had to wait.

Now my friend is reliable but she will also not rush to return the letter as I have said not to! One week passes and no letter, another week and I am crawling up the wall, I have tried everything to get my fingers and other things into my sex, all failed, I have tried rubbing myself against things but the chastity device creators had foreseen that possibility, and designed it so there would be no joy there. I finally accept that I have little option but to wait for the key to arrive.

By week three of my self-imposed abstinence I am so horny that anything would get me off, this is when I started planning my adventure. The day the key arrived I would re-post it to myself, and that day I would carry out my dumpster fantasy. Decision made, bondage gear gathered and in a bag ready to roll, plan of action plotted in exquisite frustrating detail, I waited for yet another week to pass, and then Friday evening I got home from work and there it was, my letter with my key inside of it had returned, eager as I was to remove my tormenter and get stuck in to some long anticipated relief I followed my own scene and remained secured.

There are a couple of things you need to know if you are to understand my plan, and why I have some level of confidence that I can carry it through, and hopefully remain un-discovered throughout. I have the tiniest room for a member of staff on the whole Uni campus. To make it even less interesting to the other staff members, it also overlooks a wooden fenced compound in which all of the large rubbish bins are stored. From my point of view the room suits me perfectly. It is seldom visited, and I have been able to overlook the bins in which I intend to pass my day of pleasure.

I have by watching the bin area carefully and discovered that all of the bins are emptied on a Tuesday, that the caretakers add rubbish frequently but seldom look inside of the bin, they just prop up the lid and throw the bags etc inside and then close it and leave. I have also noted that the bins are not fitted with any kind of lock, so there is no chance that I will get sealed inside permanently! Armed with this information I prepare my plan.

Saturday morning at four a.m. I departed from my home to the Uni and its waiting bins. I have picked out a brown bin with a blue lid for my adventure, as I had noticed that it was just less than half full and filled with black sacks. I have obtained a heavy duty, extra large, plastic sack with a pull string sealer, which I think will be perfect as I will be able to seal the bag once I am inside, via my breathing-hole and one handed at that most likely.

I arrived at the bin at four-twenty a.m and lift the lid, throwing my bag with my bondage gear inside. I keep the small torch I will need to see what I am doing in my jeans pocket. After a final glance around and up to ensure that I am alone and not being secretly watched by anyone I start. With fear filled hesitancy I unbutton my jeans, and with yet another look around I quickly pulled them down, slip of my sandals and remove my jeans, now they are off.

I am standing in my plain white panties over my very effective chastity belt with the key to it held tightly in my hand, and with a Tee-shirt and no bra on. My fingers slip into either side of my panties at my hips and swiftly they join my jeans and sandals in a heap at my feet. Of comes my T-shirt and I am naked except for the belt that has so frustrated me over the last few weeks, The lock to my belt finally clicks open at the long awaited twist of its key, and off it comes revealing my wet sex for the first time in an age. I can’t resist a light stroke before continuing on. It takes some will power to halt my fingers before I undo all of my good work by cumming, I am standing naked, totally aroused and fully revealed amidst the Universities bins.

I throw my clothes and the now defunct chastity belt inside of the bin and swiftly climb in after them, hastily dropping the plastic lid down. It is a good job that I brought the torch, though finding my jeans and then the torch was difficult, because inside of the bin it is now pitch-black. Note to self, next time keep hold of the torch, it will make your life easier!

The light was most welcome as I press the slide switch forward, I pull my bag towards me and un-zip it, removing a small black sack for my clothes and the damn belt which I stuff inside and knot shut for later use.

I have reached the point where my bondage time is ready to commence! First I take out my ankle restraints and my dildoe from my bag. I suck at the black plastic, ten inch long, three inch round cock, before inserting it deep into my sex (shit it hurts). Ignoring the ankle restraints for now I pull a double length of rope out of my bag I cinch the monster dildoe tightly in to my place, making sure that there was no way the rope can come loose, I then add a padlock just for that extra level of security. I love the feel of tight rough rope around my hips and between my thighs, with every movement its rough surface abrades at my tender skin, adding its own touch of agony and bliss to my bondage.

Now my ankles are buckled into the leather restraint and also pad-locked, the key for this lock is in my bag, inside of a small purse where I cannot lose it. Now comes the plastic rubbish sack, my feet disappear inside and with some wriggling I pull it up over my knees, and then my bottom, and finally gather it ready to pull over my head.

Something beneath me pops and I sink lower into the black-bags, which is fine as I intend to burrow into them to blend anyway.

My gag was chosen with safety in mind, it is a ball-gag with a strap and lock, but it is full of holes so I can breathe easily, though once it is in my mouth my jaws will very quickly start to hurt. Putting the gag into my mouth is quite scary, but I tell myself how richly I deserve to suffer and in it goes. It took some pushing to get it to seat behind my teeth but I managed. I do up the strap and click the little padlock in place.

Inside my bag of tricks is a very strange item for self-bondage, it is a digital alarm clock, which I set for eleven pm and switch on. When it rings my torment will be over and I can begin to work myself free. Now I could ignore the clock and get free earlier, but then I would really run the risk of being seen, as there is a college fashion show on tonight. The senior students are displaying their final pieces, and if all goes well, there will be quite a lot of people around the campus until about eight or nine tonight, and of course through the day as well! I will not be ignoring the alarm clock that is for certain!

I like my job and do not want to be caught and humiliated, and then fired as some sort of sexual freak! I know that my hobby is a little unusual, but I know exactly how pleasurable being bound and helpless, with a little risk, feels, though I do not think the dean would be very understanding if he found out!!!

I pull out my handcuffs from my bag and put them inside of the sack for fitting later, once I have secured the bin-liner top securely that is. I wriggle my feet deeper into the black bags, something squishes and pops releasing a disgusting stink, but I will have to get used to it, won’t I!

I pile up bags around me making a deep indent as preparation, now is the moment, now is the time to finish the beginning of my adventure. I pull up the sack to cover my gagged head, then I reach through a prepared hole with my right hand and grasp the pull cord, I gentle pull and the top closes, using my other hand through the plastic in combination I secure my sack shut. Now I fit my handcuffs, I lock them behind my back, mostly so I cannot be tempted to adjust my bonds, or heaven forbid play with myself! Orgasm is not the intent of this adventure, pain, suffering, dirt, smell and self-disgust are!

The click of my handcuffs closing and the grip of feeling them lock to my wrists carries with it a feeling of utter despair. I pull the double lock mechanism of the cuffs, so they cannot over tighten and then I wriggle, I kick and buck dislodging the sacks I so carefully piled up all around me. I sink deeper as the sacks fall and help to cover my bound body. To anyone that looks into my new prison I should look like every other black-sack of garbage, I have become rubbish, placed myself in a rubbish bin, and will remain as such for the whole day, what bliss!

PART TWO

The morning got hot, by midday the bin is in full sun and I am sweltering in my captivity. My arms hurt abominably, my legs keep cramping up, and as for my poor vagina it hurt so very much and feels so very wet at the same time. I have tried to achieve an orgasm a couple of times, but there was just too little capacity for movement. The air in the bin stinks worse than I could have ever have imagined, probably because of the rising heat.

Occasionally I hear students laughing as they walked towards the main hall, noisily passing my prison. I keep especially still and try to hold my breath at such times, though probably they would not have noticed if I was screaming the place down, but still, silence is golden they say, and I am silent! Though inside I am screaming at myself for being such a silly bitch! Demanding to know why I desired to treat myself in such a disgusting a way.

The answer it seems to me is because I can, and the reason is for my pleasure, what else could I answer myself with but that. Sex is an amazing drive, and if something turns you on, and doesn’t hurt anyone else that does not want hurting, then why not enjoy it, even if that means spending the day locked up in a rubbish bin, in the company of rubbish. I always figure, don’t judge what you haven’t tried, and if you have then you will understand, one way or another!

By mid-afternoon I figured the sun has passed from above me, because the temperature has dropped a little. All of the students should by now be securely inside the main hall, desperately arranging their show areas.

I am really getting stiff now, I have moved a lot but still feel the pain of being bound, my jaws hurt abysmally, my sex feels somewhat dry now and is getting quite raw, which is probably an effect of feeling quite bored in my captivity, which of course is all part of the experience. Boredom leads to a desire to get free, for it to end. In this case that desire is thwarted by the circumstances, so suffer I must, though when it is all over and I am free again, this aspect of my internment will have added to the overall effect, and I will be pleased to have completed it and quite proud of myself to boot I think! So suffer bitch, suffer a lot, I move again, this time easing my left hip free of my body weight for seemingly the hundredth time!

My wrists are beginning to feel chaffed and the metal is cutting in, though it is not too tight of course, there is little danger of cutting of my circulation, I flex my fingers, pressing against a black bag beneath me, puncturing it unfortunately! What is in it I don’t know but it stinks even through my own bag. I try to move again but I only make things worse for myself, and I have a long time to suffer this torment still to go I believe.

I had just twisted slightly when I heard the foot-falls of someone approaching; I fell instantly silent and wait, my heart racing. The bin moves, not rocks but moves! Someone is pulling my bin out of the storage area.

“Fred, give us a pull with this round to the yard will ya mate! That Mrs Jones wants it to dump the leftovers from the display in!”

My simple day of bondage is turning into a real threat of discovery and humiliation.

I will continue this my story soon, and tell you all what happened in humiliating detail!

Be Safe in What you do Please.

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08.07.10

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