© Copyright 2019 - Polythene WrappedMe - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/m; magic; shrink; bottle; immerse; tease; clean; fantasy; bagged; wastebin; discarded; maid; collected; disposal; compactor; garbagetruck; transported; process; incinerator; death; mast; cons; XX
I used to stay in this swank hotel. You know the kind: Nothing is too much trouble. The customer is always right.
I decided to put that idea to the test. If I wanted the chamber maid to trash me, then I saw it as their duty to arrange it.
However, try as I might, the hotel had other ideas. Apparently, they risk losing a rating on Trip Advisor, if hotel guests get squashed in their trash compactor.
Now I know what some of you will say: It might actually help their hotel ratings if us kinksters could find a trashcan friendly hotel where customers could get taken out with the trash and given a good squashing.
This is why I see Gromet's Plaza as so important in spreading the word to ignorant "normals" who think themselves somehow superior if they only like vanilla sex. Don't get me wrong, I am all for vanilla sex, but sometimes I like raspberry ripple !
Surely that does not make me weird. Just more adventurous ! Well that is my story and I am sticking to it !
When I asked the maid if she could show me where the hotel trash goes, it somehow got lost in translation. She explained she bags the trash and takes it out.
No. I said. I wanted her to SHOW me where the hotel trash goes.
Undeterred she carried on explaining that she feeds the bags into a compactor in the hotel basement and it gets emptied and collected by the council garbage truck.
No. She still was failing to understand. "I want you to take me to the waste compactor and physically show me !"
She muttered something about the area being off limits to hotel guests. It was staff-only or something like that.
I handed over a thousand dollars, and said "Take me there, please !"
Suddenly forbidden areas off limits, became places she would give weird folk like me a guided tour of.
She left her maid's trolley and walked me to the Service Elevator. Down we went to the basement. Just her and me. My heart was beating very fast now.
She walked me over to the massive trash compactor. My cock was already bulging in my trousers. I tried my best to hide the flagpole from sticking out any further.
She picked up a bag of trash, lobbed it into the hopper, and pressed the green 'on' button.
How I longed to be sealed in that bag, she had discarded. Especially, when the compactor's ram came to life, and it was forced inside the container.
I quickly looked around for signs of any cameras, and discovered there were none. For who guards trash ? It is worthless. It is only fit for disposal and collection.
I backed up the courage to ask the question everyone reading these stories wishes they were brave enough to ask.
I explained that I would like to climb into the hopper and ride the compactor ram, as she squashed me inside the compactor.
Repulsed she replied "Only trash goes in here, not hotel guests, sir !"
I offered her more money in the hope it would persuade her otherwise, but no amount of money it would seem would persuade her.
"It is dangerous, sir ?" She added.
"Sir might get killed" she added further.
She was obviously uneasy about being asked to perform this kinky sexual act for me.
Her duties included taking out the trash, but she did not see me as such.
If I tried to climb inside, she would call the hotel management and that might end up with answering some awkward questions with the police.
As I turned and walked back to the Service Elevator, I failed to notice the maid briefly look at the bulge in my trousers.
We parted our ways.
But the hotel maid could not help herself excitedly chat to all her female colleagues in the Housekeeping Department (as the hotel called it), about this chap in Room 108 that asked her to take him to the trash compactor, then asked if he could be disposed of as hotel trash and had the largest hard-on she had ever seen.
For the rest of that week, different maids came to Room 108, in the hope of meeting me, but I was too shy to repeat the experiment. So it just became something they would tease me about, with their knowing smiles and glances, that spoke a million words of repulsion, even when they spoke not a word to me in person.
Perhaps it was all in my head ?
Perhaps the maids had been asked far worse than my innocent question ? And had taken it all in their stride.
Perhaps one of them wanted to ask me if sir would like being trashed ?
I would never know. I had run out of courage. For now.
My sadistic girlfriend had always enjoyed hurting me, and I kind of liked being "punished".
Earlier in my life, I had done a favour for a witch and she had graciously granted me three wishes.
1. To be able to shrink to whatever size I wanted and to revert back to full size, at will.
2. To be able to withstand being crushed, without death, injury or suffocation.
3. To be able to live without air, food or water for years, without death or illness.
My girlfriend knew most of these magical properties of mine, and had indeed fully utilised them in our roleplay games. Having a mean streak, meant that she was willing to make me suffer, and being dominated by her was equally pleasurable to me.
I had bought and paid for a lovely romantic getaway for her. An island in the sun, staying in this very posh hotel.
We had laughed about the fact I could miniaturise and travel in her bra, held against her massive breasts, while I was merely shrunk inside to fit inside her underwear. It certainly saved on the air fare. As far as anyone knew, she was travelling alone, so only one ticket was needed for the flight, and indeed, she had "single occupancy" of the large double bedroom in the luxury hotel, or so everyone thought.
Whilst at my normal height, I had stayed in the posh hotel several times, as a resident and I knew the hotel well. Indeed, I had picked it for a specific kinky reason. It was the same hotel I had asked the maid to trash me in.
The hotel had every facility imaginable to make their guests content, even their kinky guests.
Apart from spas, swimming pools, tennis courts, massage parlours, billiards rooms, and four fine dining restaurants, the place had public washrooms on each floor, and showers and changing rooms for swimmers.
Each bedroom has a large en suite bathroom, and the hotel provided everything fridges, safes, to toiletries (shampoo, body wash, hand lotion) in small clear plastic bottles, and sachets for sewing kits, nail files, shower caps and sanitary bags. Towels hand flannels, a free mini bar.
The hotel staff were very friendly and attentive too. Every day, the maid came three times a day. In the morning, to clear up after guests washed and showered and went down to breakfast. Around lunch time to restock the mini bar. Then around 6 p.m. to turn down the beds, and provide extra drinking water in the rooms.
It was in the morning that the maid's vacuum cleaned the rooms and emptied the trash bins in the bedroom and the waste bin in the bathroom. But trash could also be collected at the other two times as well.
When staying there alone, by myself, I had tested the maids, by leaving trash in the two bins, at different times of the day, to see when these were collected.
Having arrived at the posh hotel, she was very impressed by the sheer luxury, stunning sea views, and the whole 5 star experience.
"Wow ! I could never afford to stay here !" she cooed with delight.
"Did you enjoy being in my bra for the 4 hour flight ? I could feel you gently stroking them with your one inch high body. You naughty boy !"
She took me in the bathroom.
"You like being hidden amongst women's things. How about this bottle of white hand lotion ?" she said.
She unscrewed the lid, and my small body was inserted into the cold white goo. She pushed my head beneath the surface, and simply replaced the screw lid, sealing me inside the plastic bottle.
She then returned the bottle back to the others containing shampoo and body wash, and left me there, to squirm.
The maid came and did a light sorting of the room, but ignored me immersed in the plastic bottle, as just another free toiletry hotel guests could use.
I stood motionless inside, hoping not to attract any attention form the maid.
I need not have worried. To her I was just another item on the bathroom washbasin sink.
My girlfriend returned after dinner, and left me bottled up, all night long.
The next morning, she released me from my prison. No harm done.
She asked if I enjoyed being inside a bottle, like a genie, before she washed and rinsed me clean.
She joked that I should be all soft to the touch now, but she noticed my cock was definitely rigid.
"I would like to do some more roleplay please." I asked her.
An evil grin, formed on her face. She knew only too well what that meant.
"What do you want we to do with you, you pathetic tiny man ?" she barked.
"I would like you to open the cardboard sachet that contains a white polythene sanitary bag. I want you to open the bag, and drop me inside, so I can feel a sexy goddess like you discard me as if I was nothing more than feminine hygiene waste. Then I want you to roll me up in the bag, as if I was a used tampon or pad, and I would want you to place me inside the small pedal bin, here in the bathroom. Then I want you to place some tissues and face wipes in here as well, to disguise me still further. Afterwards, you can go down to breakfast and the maid will simply dispose of me, when she cleans the room." I replied.
"So you go on an adventure. I can see the appeal; but what is in it for me ? I don't want to go rescuing you from some hotel trash bin, as I search through the rubbish to find which sanitary bag contains you. Yuck, who knows just how many sanitary bags the women guests chuck out each day in a large hotel like this." she replied.
"That is okay, you don't have to rescue me." I answered back.
"You cannot be serious !" she replied "You want me literally to throw you away, without a care. While I am enjoying this fabulous holiday in the sun, you are collected and taken away with the trash."
She had no knowledge of trash compactors, the internal workings of garbage trucks, or what happens at waste transfer stations. To her, garbage is simply collected. What happens after it is collected, she neither knew nor cared.
"Well a part of you always wanted to be mean beyond limits. What happens to me, is not of your doing. If I am killed, you are miles away with a solid alibi. No one even knows that I am here, and I doubt the maid searches through the trash of thousands of bins to discover a tiny man, wrapped in a white polythene sanitary bag and dumped in a bathroom bin. Only you would know !"
Her grin widened at the nasty thought.
This slave was really willing to please his goddess. So much so, he would let her dispose of him for good. (It is only what all girlfriends had done to him over the many decades.)
She opened the cardboard box containing the smooth, shiny, white polythene, sanitary bag, and opened it with her fingers on her right hand.
I started masturbating like crazy, in the anticipation of what was come next.
With her free left hand, she picked me up around my waist and I was lifted towards to the sanitary bag, to be treated like an item of feminine hygiene waste. Perhaps her used tampon or panty liner, or pad.
She held me aloft, over the opening of the polythene sack, and asked one more time, a final time, if I was sure this was what I wanted.
I nodded, giving her my consent for her to trash me.
I opened my legs wide to try to slow my decent, as she dropped my naked body inside.
Although the sanitary bag was tiny, to a one inch tall guy, it seems over 40 feet deep.
I slide down inside, between the two sheets of polythene that made up the walls of the sanitary bag, until I reached the bottom of the polythene sack.
I laid down, and she rolled the sanitary bag up. I suppose my small body resembled the size and shape of a used tampon.
Within seconds, I was tightly bound inside the rolled up sanitary bag. It was a good job I did not need to breathe.
The white polythene of the sanitary bag, looked fairly opaque in a single layer, but wrapped inside side several layers, there was now no way I could see out, and more importantly, no one else could see me inside. I did not want rescuing.
She places her trash gently inside the small pedal bin in the bathroom, and her foot came off the pedal, causing the lid of the bin to close, and plunge me into total darkness.
The small bathroom pedal bin could only hold 4.5 litres (1 gallon), but to a man my size, it was if I had been lowered inside a massive round chamber, as large as a grain silo.
Then the lid opened again, and in tumbled tissues and face wipes, to bury me, just as I had instructed.
There I was left. Discarded as hotel trash.
Until the maid arrived.
I heard her vacuum clean the bedroom, make the bed, and dust etc. while my girlfriend was downstairs eating breakfast, by the hotel's swimming pool.
She was getting very wet thinking about my plight, as she scoffed her cereal, fruit and cooked food. Knowing that by the time she returned to her room, I would be gone. Taking away by the hotel maid as just part of the trash.
I was getting wet also. It was very hot and sweaty sealed in all that polythene. My breathe condensed, my skin pores sweated and my cock exploded cum several times, as I wanked laying in the bottom of the bathroom pedal bin, concealed as an item of female waste.
Then I heard the maid enter the bathroom and start to wipe the down the shower and bath, and rinse out the hand basin, and sweep the floor. Then she replaced the towels with fresh ones, and carried the dirty linen to the laundry bag.
Then it was my turn.
I wondered if she was wearing plastic gloves and whether she would pick me out of the bin with her gloved hands.
But no. Hotel maids are told not to handle such trash directly in their hands, but to instead, pull out the pedal bin's inner holder, and remove it.
I immediately felt her pick my container up, and I was carried to her maid's trolley and there, she inverted my container, and I became weightless, as I plummeted inside a large bag that contained the bedroom and bathroom waste from several guest's rooms.
I mingled amongst the trash as I fell. I was now indistinguishable from genuine hotel trash.
I had not been discovered. As far as the maid was concerned only trash was in here, so I must be trash myself, I thought.
For a couple of hours, more and more trash was emptied on top of me. There was no way I would be found now.
I heard the occasional hotel guest pass the maid and her trolley in the hotel corridor. I even wondered whether one of them was my ex-girlfriend come to rescue me. Perhaps she would say she threw someone, or something, out by mistake. But no.
Perhaps she was watching, getting herself wet, as she knew the trash bag contained a very special item. Nope. There was only trash in here, and it was destined to go on a long journey; and I would go on the same journey, for now I was just trash too.
The maid wheeled her trolley to the Service Elevator.
On the way the way to the basement, I pictured her finding me, and saying something humiliating like "Oh, dumped in a woman's sanitary bag, just like a tampon, your girlfriend must really hate you. No wonder, just look at you. Pathetic !"
But the hotel maid has no reason to go fishing through the waste. It is simply bagged and I was now sealed inside a second polythene bag, only this was much larger.
Little did I know, it was the same maid who I had confessed my desire to be squashed inside the compactor, that now did as I asked. Only she did not know, that a hotel guest, albeit a tiny one smuggled in, was now about to be crushed in the trash.
She loaded the trash bag into the hopper, just as I had watched her do, all those months ago. Although now, I was inside. My dream had come true.
I came again, as my cock exploded once more. It was getting quite yucky inside here. But I was waste after all.
I heard her press the compactor's 'on' button and the ram did as it was programmed. Everything in the hopper was destined for the container.
The container was quite full, so I duly received quite a hard crushing, as the trash bag popped. But the rolled up sanitary bag, kept my body in situ. There was no escape. It was just what I wanted.
Within seconds, I was rammed into tonnes of trash.
Maid after maid came and placed their bagged trash in the hopper. Each of them crushed me, a little more, as again and again, the compactor squeezed me ever tighter.
My the time by former girlfriend had finished breakfast, going shopping in town and returned to the hotel bedroom to find the bathroom pedal bin empty; I had been crushed around twenty times.
All the time getting deeper and deeper in the trash.
Then the garbage truck arrived, and the contents of the hotel's trash compactor was emptied and the whole pile was flattened by a much more powerful machine.
I wondered if my girlfriend saw the garbage truck come. Did she rub her pussy at the sight of my collection ?
No. She simply enjoyed the rest of her hotel and flew home afterwards, without a care in the world. Slaves are easy to find, and perhaps she developed a love of trashing them. Who knows ?
The garbage truck emptied me and dozens of tonnes of squashed waste, onto the loading deck of the waste transfer station. Moments later, a bulldozer picked me up and dumped me onto a conveyor belt. This was so exciting !
Fearing the worst, I shrunk even smaller. This was most fortuitous, as moments later the conveyor dropped the trash into the mouth an industrial shredder to separate the waste for automatic sorting and recycling.
Magnets and eddy currents swept away bits of aluminium cans and other metals. Paper was air-jetted away to other holding cubicles and plastics were manually sorted.
I passed through the lot. Machines and people sorting the trash. No one picked me up.
What remained on the conveyor, was what no one else wanted. The trash not worthy of recycling.
The waste only fit for one thing.
Female hygiene waste is incinerated.
Down I fell into the flames.
It was definitely a holiday hotspot.