Gromet's Plaza Trashcan Stories
Gone with the Bin
by Restricted
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© Copyright 2009 - Restricted - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; bond; bin; Sbf; cuffs; 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.
Gone with the Bin by Restricted M/f; bond; bin; Sbf; cuffs; stuck; cons; X
 

We had been using these plastic rubbish bins for some time. Unlike the other people in my area, I like them.  Most people say they are too heavy and want smaller ones. 

They are only used for garden refuse so I don’t see what the problem is. If anything it would be because the people in the terrace houses have to leave them out the front, while I in my semi detached house can leave it in the back garden and wheel it round when I have to put it out.  I have never used it for its intended purpose.

But according to the local paper, the council has decided to replace these with smaller bins and empty them every two weeks instead of once every four weeks. The old bins would be used for businesses that need larger bins. But it didn’t say when the change was taking place.

Now I love my bin, for a very good reason.  I hope you agree with me.

I was introduced into bondage by my ex-boyfriend. He would tie me up in the most delicious ways and take full advantage of me in my helpless condition. It started one night when we were rather merry on drink. To cut a long story short, he grabbed my hands behind me and tied them together. I could not stop his constant torment of my body. By the time he was finished with me, I was screaming against my gag for him to shag me to hell.

Over the months, we got more adventurous with the bondage. One night we came home, more the worse for wear through drink, and he tied me up and stuck me in the new bin that had been delivered. I knew he had wedged something in the lock hasp as I could not get the lid open to escape. Fortunately the lid is not airtight. I had to spend all night in the bin. 

It was not until next morning, quite late when he realised I was still in the bin. That is when he released me. I had been in the bin for ten hours by the time he let me out. I must admit it was exciting when I thought that I may have been discovered by my neighbours, especially when he lifted me out of the bin.  It turned out he had put the television on and fallen asleep blind drunk.

That is when it became even more exciting. To think that no one knew I was there in the bin and there world going on around me.

Well, we split up, but I still had the bin and would often go and sit in it with my hands cuffed together. I loved it when my next door neighbours used to come out into their garden and I would have to wait until they had gone to bed to make sure I couldn’t be seen climbing out of the bin with my hands still locked together.

Well, when they first mentioned about changing these bins, I contacted the council and asked if I could keep mine. They agreed as long s I paid £30 for it. I would have paid it gladly. But the project was shelved anyway as the council never had the money for the new bins.

As I said, I live in a semi detached house and know that only the one lot of neighbours can look out on my bin.

But that was a while ago and now the thing came up about using smaller bins owing to health and safety. I was going to write again and ask if I can buy the bin, but you know how it is. You always mean to write, but never get around to it.

But that was my downfall.  

I had a few days off from work. My thoughts of bondage came up again. It grew and grew with more intense feeling that I knew would only be satisfied with my being tied up once more.

I got my gag, handcuffs, rope, large black refuse sack that I had made a few small air holes in and put them in the bin. I had only just closed the lid when the man next door peered over the fence. “Good morning. Lovely day isn’t it” I agreed and listened while he went on and on about the bins.

“The council have said they will be changing them shortly. They will take away any refuse in them and replace the bin with a smaller one. But I understand that there are people going around from other towns that know this and are filling our bins up with rubble and bricks. I advise you to lock your bin”

I thanked him and told him I would get a padlock and lock it.

Later that night, I crept out naked and climbed in the bin. I had opened the rubbish sack so I could step straight into it.  I sat down and closed the lid of the bin and pulled the sack up over my head.  I tied the top and folded the top back through itself so the strings could not be seen from the inside.

I tied my feet and legs together, put my gag in my mouth, strapped it tight behind my head, and cuffed my hands behind me as usual. I know I can escape from the bag and bin by standing up, but climbing out of the bin is difficult.  Still, that adds to the excitement. I usually have to wait until the next door neighbours had gone to bed and cause the bin to topple over.

I settled down in my little prison and pretended my ex-boyfriend had come home, left me here and gone off again.  No one knows I am here.

I must have fallen asleep as a noise woke me up. I thought there was someone in my garden. I am sure I can hear them moving about.  This is bad. But it went quiet. I must be wrong.

I heard the man next door in their garden, “All ready dear. There was no lock the bin. Must have forgotten, so I used an old one to lock it.” Then I heard the woman telling someone they were off to Rhyll for a few days. Oh well, that gives me a bit of time to escape.

The noise of the day increases and recedes as the day goes on. Eventually it goes quiet and I feel it is safe to escape now.  I tried to stand up, but the lid wouldn’t open. The man must have meant my bin when he said he put that old padlock on the bin.  All night I struggle to no avail.

I was getting cramp when I feel the bin starting to move. I feel myself being tipped forward and felt every bump as the bin is wheeled out to the road. “This one is locked. They can sort it out at the depot. There must be bricks in it. It is heavy” I presumed it was the dustman.  They must have come round to the back of the house to get my rubbish bin.

The bin rises in the air and I feel it being shoved forward. The more bins must have been shoved in behind me. I try to call out, but with the noise of the lorry and the street noise no one could hear me.

I felt the lorry as it jolted its way along the road. I had no idea where we were headed for. All I know is that we were moving for some time.

 The lorry stopped. I felt my bin being lowered and bumped across and left. More bins crashed into me. I have not got a clue where I am. I tried to scream against my gag, but that is why I bought this one. It is one of the best there is to silence a captive. No one heard me.

So if you happen to pass a lot of extra large rubbish bins standing in a yard or field, would you mind doing me a favour? Could you look through them until you find my one? Just tap on each bin and I will try to give a reply when you find mine. I have no idea how long they are going to leave me standing here.  But this is getting uncomfortable.

 

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