Gromet's Plaza Trashcan Stories
Human Garbage
by TeaSer
TeaSer@netzkolen.dk | forum feedback
© Copyright 2012 - TeaSer - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; M/f; bond; trash; bagged; gag; bin; enclosed; public; messy; hum; cons; X
WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.
Human Garbage TeaSer Solo-F; M/f; bond; trash; bagged; gag; bin; enclosed; public; messy; hum; cons; X
continued from Marie Spending a Day in a Bin

Stuck

The sweat made tracks in the drying dirt on her body making her skin itch and prickle. There was little she could do about it - her hands still locked to the grill grate that had first shielded her from getting hurt by bottles but which had later added to her humiliating predicament. She couldn't even complain as the ring gag was still keeping her mouth painfully open leaving it exposed to dripping goo from the grate.

Since the morning her world had been pretty small: Contained in garbage bag and stuck in a waste bin, legs crossed letting her crotch enjoy any piece of waste pressing against the soaking panties. Her mouth held wide open by a tight ring gag and her head tilted backwards to expose her to the waste being thrown into the bin. And all this due to that dark desire of hers. Why would a pretty and clever girl submit herself to this?

It wasn't because she didn't know how dreadfull it would be! A month earlier she had barely escaped a similar predicament and only due to the help of a stranger. This stranger had collared her with a chain and left her to endure a terrifying walk through the city before she could finally remove a gag filled with waste and shower off the remains of a two day long stay in waste. It had taken several days before she didn't smell waste and she had promised herself never to do so again. But that was a month ago - and now she was back. Stuck in a smelly garbage bin. Humiliated and disgusted by the smell and the feel of waste. Terrified by guessing what kind of waste was on her body. Yes - guessing! As her sight was severely restricted by some swimming goggles.

The path to humiliation

Stumbling home from her latest adventure, she had promised herself never to take such a risk again. She had put herself in a public bin, risking being found and exposed in public. This would definitely make her remaining years at university a hell. If, of course, she was allowed to stay at university. Yet this risk caused her body to tingle and her juices to flow. And getting home wearing the too small gym shoes causing her feet to ache, naked and gagged, dripping with smelly goo was a terrible risk as well. But she managed. Restoring the key to the front door from the tape-plug she had filled in her cunt was difficult and she barely managed to enter the house before people started walking the street.

As she showered she had fingered the chain the guy had put round her neck when he released her from being totally stuck. He had told her to use him for safety next time she would have such an adventure. But surely she would never do so again. Yet for some reason she didn't cut the chain and during the next month she had covered it with a scarf or turtleneck sweaters. She really didn't know why. And why did her body tingle whenever she thought about the chain?

For the following week she was certain she would never endure another garbage adventure. During the week after she was no longer that certain. And trouble began when she noticed a bin at the local football stadium: A large plastic bin with the lid padlocked in place. And a hole in the top. And over the hole a piece of metal making it difficult to put large bottles inside. Seeing this bin created images in her head - created dangerous feelings in her body. Imagining herself being inside such a bin. Locked up. Naked. So close to a lot of people.

During the third week she felt the emotions grow. She imagined herself in this bin. Tried to figure out how to do it. And finally decided to call the guy who offered her help.

Calling the guy was in itself a major embarrassment. If it was to tease her she didn't know - but he really sounded like he didn't know who was talking. So she had to describe some details about how they had met before he confirmed knowing her. And doing so was strangely erotic: Describing just what she had done to herself and in some way abandoning any imagination it never happened.

After she had asked for his help, he just told her to text him a description on the cellphone - and then leave the planning to him. Again disclosing her wickid fantasies made her mind go nuts and she orgasmed a few times before finally sending the message. The dices was thrown!

In the evening she got a reply telling her to get hold of a leather clad ring gag and a padlock to keep it in place. The gag should keep her mouth fully open and she was told to try it out in the shop - asking the clerk there for help. This was the first time she have had to let anyone know about her darker desires, which made her feel vulnerable and pretty embarrassed. Her visit to the sex shop during the week was a terrifying and thrilling trip even if the clerk was very helpful, making sure her jaws were held in place while not dislocating. The padlock was easily obtained without questions.

On friday she got a text message simply telling her to go to a location in the central city bringing with her the gag and the open padlock. The keys to the padlock should stay at home. The meeting was due early saturday morning.

On saturday she got up early and had a long warm shower. She washed thoroughly even if the thought came to her that this might well be a waste of time. If her expectations was met she wouldn't be clean for long. Still she wanted to look her best for the still unknown boy. As she touched the chain collaring her neck, she felt a surge going through her body making her pussy tell her how much she anticipated this second adventure. She put on some simple white cotton panties, a purple t-shirt and a short black skirt along with some simple black shoes. She didn't expect to wear those clothes for long either.

Time is up

When she arrived to the set place the boy was allready there. She recognized him easily even if she had been pretty disturbed at their previous encounter. He smiles when seeing the chain round her neck and led her down some stairs to a locked room. "You may not have noticed," he said, "but today there will be a public party in the city." True! She had not noticed. Her mind had been centered on the comming adventure, and she hadn't taken notice of the posters round town. "You're to be locked in one of those garbage bins which will serve the public," he informed her. "The bin will be locked so exposure is pretty much out of the question. However you will of course feel extremely exposed."

He then requested her gag and the padlock. Making sure the gag was positioned correctly he tightened it so no movement was possible. Then the gag was padlocked shut. She was then urged to undress and put her clothes in a little plastic bag. She refused removing the panties which he accepted without question. Then he opened a large bin-bag and put it on the floor.

Now she was told to kneel on the bag and he put some cuff on her lower legs. The cuff was in fact a kind of tube-padding with two pieces tied together in a cross. When tying the cuff together, her lower legs was forced to cross at the middle - making her stand awkwardly on her knees. The bag was then pulled up her body before he grabbed a firm hold of her and lifted her into a bin. He carefully spread the bag round the top of the bin. She was now ready to accept having garbage on her body.

Her feelings about his looking at her breasts was mixed. She was proud of her breasts! Firm and well proportioned. Right now the nipples was erect telling him how ready she was. Yet she felt embarrassed of having him obviously enjoy the sight. Breaking loose he pulled out a felt pen with a broad, black line. "How should we describe you?" he asked. The gag prevented her from giving any sensible comment and apparently he didn't really expect any either. "Human garbage! That's what you are!" Those words shot through her body. Was this how he saw her? She felt humiliated and apparently it showed. He laughed and grabbed her left breast. "Human garbage! It should say so, don't you think?" And even if she shook her head he carefully wrote Human on her breast. Then he wrote garbage on the right. She really hoped the ink would wash off fast as he had made sure the letters would be visible in an open shirt.

The boy however didn't consider her ready quite yet. First he put cuffs on her wrists as well. Then he put some small swim goggles on her head making sure they was tight to her skin and that they could not be torn off. Finally he pulled out a grill grate, which was bent thoroughly. He then put the grate over her head and connected the bend to the top of the bin. This way the grate functioned as a kind of roof over her head. "This will prevent bottles from hurting your head," he said. "It will provide you some other fun as well, but this is to be discovered," he laughed.

Now the wrist cuffs was connected to the front side of the grate. And as a final touch he connected a piece of rope to her collar and pulled it up to the grate - forcing her head backwards. He shortly groped one of her breasts - enjoying the erect nipples. Then the lid was put on the bin and she heard the lock being shut. Now she just had to wait and endure.

For a long time nothing happened - she was locked inside her bin waiting with the other bins. Then a door opened and the bins were wheeled out. She now hear the sounds of the square: The cars, the birds, people talking, dogs barking. Everything was so close! Even if she knew she was well hidden in the bin, she felt extremely exposed and grossly humiliated. This of course called for her pussy to join the party leaking heavily and soaking the panties. Her mouth was dry after the long wait in the basement and she really longed for a kind of drink. As if someone had heard her unspoken request, a plastic cup was thrown into the bin. It rolled down the crate leaving cold coffee on her face and in her mouth before continuing onto her breasts to end the trip next to her knee. Each time the cup touched her body, it sent shivers through her promising an ... interesting day.

The coffee announced the opening of the day. During the next hours it was mostly coffees and paperplates with cakes that entered the bin. The cake often got stuck on the crate while the coffee wettened it, causing the cake to drip through the crate onto her face. And slowly the emballage surrounded her legs. As the day turned to noon the waste turned into ends of sausages and grilled fat along with loads of ketchup and mustard. Each plate delivering its content to the crate from where the more fluent components dripped onto her face blurring her vision. From her face the sauces slowly slided onto her body making it prickle and tingle as the traces dried pulling her skin. The deposited food was accompanied by cups with beer and lemonade washing leftovers from the plates off the plate and onto her face. By now her mouth was almost constantly filled with a mixture of meat sausage and beer and lemonade. Even if she tried to avoid swalloing this fluid, lots went down her stomach making her want to vomit the disgusting mix.

From time to time ashtrays was emptied in the bin making her breathe small flakes of ash as well as she felt the butts in her mouth. After lunch time the plates of sausage got fewer while the numbers of beer cups increased. And even if she tried spitting out the left over beer, she felt slightly drunk. Still nobody had a clue she was there, but every time the lid opened, she felt exposed.

Along with the beer cups different kinds of sweets was poured into the waste bin making her skin sticky. By now pieces of paper was fixed on her face making seeing and breathing difficult. And the waste grew around her body making her more and more stuck. Eventually the beer cups no longer slid down but instead compacted around her upper body and face. From time to time someone tried to push the cups down, but apparently not to much use.

All good things must end

Eventually she felt the bin being rolled away and started hoping for release. She heard someone working on the lid - but it was padlocked in place. Some angry words told her, that this was not to be expected - then the bin was left alone. Luckily the bin was moved away from direct sunlight, so the temperature in there faded. Even then she still felt damp and sweated horribly. The sweat poured down her face and made traces in the dirt - making her skin send new sensations to her already overloaded crotch. Her arms locked to the crate and her head painfully tilted backwards to make her enjoy as much waste into her ring-gagged mouth as possible.

Right now she didn't enjoy any of it! She felt dirty, humiliated, wasted and above all a feeling of being left alone crept over her. Would the boy help her out? And when? This was supposed to be the peak of her public embarrassment, but she felt low. She remembered the writing on her wonderful breasts: "Human waste". Was this realy what she was? Was this what she was going to become?

After a long wait she heard more bins being wheeled into the room where she was left. Boys talking about the good day, the sales, and all the waste. Bins was unlocked and emptied. Then some boy asked about the locked bin and she heard a familiar voice excusing for using a wrong padlock. He had the key at home! Then she heard him promise to bring the key in the evening and to empty this particular bin.

After yet another period of noise and wheeling around, the room got silent. Now the bin was cold and her soaking body started to produce goosebumps. Even if she tried to move in the bin, she didn't really warm up and she felt utterly miserable. Finally the lock on her bin was opened and light poured down on her.

Instead of just releasing her, he wheeled the bin out of the room. Then her collar and her hands was released from the crate, which was then removed. "You stink!" he said. This was kind of an understatement as the mix of sausage-creame, beer, sweets and her own deposits certainly had a very special and not at all pleasant odeur. He then gave her a coil of rope and told her to get out of the bin. Even if she was almost drained from energy, she mastered enough strength to pull herself up and stood trembling on the soil next to the bin.

The boy now pulled out the waste-bag and deposited it in the dumpster along with the other bags. And the bin was pulled back into the room with the empty bins. She waited on her knees - her lower legs still cuffed forcing her knees spread. The boy returned with a piece of papertowel, which he used to clean waste off her breasts. Doing so he exposed the text on her breasts - letters being as clear and visible as when he wrote them. She felt a surge of embarrassment, which in turn made her crotch wake up.

Somehow he must have noticed, because he used the towel to start rubbing her exposed crotch. This was all wrong! Nobody should just touch her there! And yet he just did - and no matter what was right and what was wrong her body enjoyed the sensations. The feeling of humiliation to the situation in total - and her very visible reactions to his actions made her level of embarrassment grow until she had a storming orgasm. And he just nodded satisfied. That beast!

He then cut loose her legs, and told her, her key to her front door was in the flowerpot in her garden. And that her clothes were delivered just inside her front door. With those words he turned around leaving her to bring her waste-covered body home through the town. Her breasts telling everybody she was human waste. Her mouth still held open by the locked on ring-gag letting people see she had been eating waste - if anyone was to see her. This, she made a promise to herself about, should not happen!

You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum

16.03.12

Story continues in Scout Camp

o0o

If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
trashcan stories