© Copyright 2007 - K C - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; bond; bagged; trash; dumped; disposed; nc/reluct; X
He could see her coming out of the office, the last member of the varsity volleyball team locking up the equipment. Every practice, the team took turns locking up the gym and leaving last. Tonight was her turn, and he was more than ready. There was no one else on campus, even the coaches and most devoted teachers had gone home. The sun had set, the lights were almost all out, and they were the only two left.
He pushed his cart into the gym. He'd developed this routine over several weeks. But tonight, he only had his extra-large garbage can and several bags in his cart, hiding the rope underneath. She glanced over her shoulder at him as she finished locking up. With her usual sneer, she ignored him and picked up her bag.
As she walked by him, she glanced slightly aside, ignoring him even more. Bad move. He grabbed her arm and yanked her sideways, throwing her off her feet. She landed hard on her bag, gasping in shock. Without giving her time to react, he grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled. Instead of bringing her up, though, it tore halfway down the middle. Now she started to scream, dragging herself out of his grip and getting to her feet. He let her run, smiling as she disappeared into the girl's locker room. After pulling out his rope, he followed her in.
The back door was already locked. He found her pulling at the handle, trying to force it, but as she heard his footsteps behind her she turned and pressed against the door, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Go away!" she screamed. "Leave me alone!"
He glanced around. He didn't come in here often, but what he saw now pleased him. It was small, she wouldn't be able to get around him. He unwound his rope. "Take off your clothes."
"What?" She shook her head. "You sick fuck."
His smile turned into a grin. This made it so much nicer. He stepped closer and grabbed her as she tried to run past, laughing as she kicked and struggled. Her already torn shirt came off easily. He dropped her on the ground and got a good hold on her shorts, dragging them down her legs until they bunched at her ankles, hobbling her. She started to sob as she shrieked, turning on her stomach and trying to crawl away. He grabbed her bunched shorts and pulled her back. Her shoes came off, and with them her shorts, and then she was running in her underwear and socks towards the door. Unfortunately she slipped and fell again just short of the door. She reached up to get the door handle.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. As she screamed again, he opened the door and pulled her out, easily dragging her across the slick gym floor in her socks. When they reached his cart, he picked her up and bent her over the garbage can's edge. Her feet dangled several inches off the floor. Now he tied her hands behind her back, cinching her wrists tight. Then he tied her kicking feet, crossing her ankles so she would have to sit with her legs spread. With a good, firm slap to her ass, he sent her tumbling headfirst into the can.
Several seconds went by as she fought to turn over, squirming around at the bottom of the giant garbage can. The plastic rustled noisily with her every move. Her bottom pointed in the air for awhile, then turned over as she managed to get on her side, and finally she sat straight, her bound ankles making her knees point out and touch the edges of the can.
"What the hell are you doing?" she said. "Let me go!"
"I got a job to do here," he said, getting behind the cart and pushing. "I take the garbage out. I figure that means all the garbage here, even the kind that walks and screeches."
"What?" She wriggled again, but she was tied too tight. With a frustrated sigh, she sat back. The cool plastic presed against her skin and she leaned forward again. She hated this. She could feel the cart moving but she couldn't see where he was taking her. The can was at least two feet above her head. Fighting to shift her position again, she pushed her feet against the far side, nearly stretching her legs out entirely, and rose a few inches off the bottom. After several tries, she got enough leverage to get up on her feet, as wobbly as that was.
Even on her feet, her head barely cleared the top. She'd never realized how huge these cans were, or just how strong he'd have to be to push them around when they were full. They were going down a dark hallway that she recognized as the math hall. He stopped at one door and went in.
Now that he was gone, she struggled in earnest to get free, nearly slipping again on the plastic bag. She was so busy struggling she didn't notice he was back until he up-ended the class garbage can over her head, showering her with a huge stack of paper. Crumpled notes, failed quizzes, notebook pages torn out and covered with different colored ink all hit her face and drove her backwards. Somehow she stayed on her feet, squealing as it all ended up around her feet. The cart moved again to the next classroom.
"What the hell? What the fuck is wrong with you?" she said. "You get off on this or something?"
"Just getting rid of garbage," he said, picking up the next can. "Even if it is some nice looking garbage."
"I'm not garbage! Knock it off! Let me go!"
He tipped the can over on her head. More paper, a huge, heavy stack of stapled reports and pencil-scribbled scratch sheets. Empty pens, full pens. A broken one landed on her cheek, leaving a smear of ink down her face and on one breast, stuck in her bra and leaking out. She grimaced and tried to shake it out, but it only made her breasts shake and drove the pen down farther.
While she shook, he took her to the next room. This time two big pizza boxes came down on her, one smearing her front with grease, the other landing open on her head and staying there. Used napkins and plates slid down her body and landed around her feet. The can was so big, though, that she wasn't even up to her ankles yet. She shook her head back and forth. Finally the box came off her head and landed at her feet. Pizza crumbs covered her face and hair, and even though she tried to get them off, several stayed stuck to her.
More classrooms, more trashcans. By the time they left the math hall, she was up to her crossed ankles in garbage. Napkins had fallen in her bra. Papers shuffled around her feet. As he pushed the cart around the corner, she lost her balance and fell back into the can, her ass planting right in the middle of an open pizza box. Before she could stand up, more garbage came down. To her horror, they were in the science wing. Now there weren't just the usual pencils and papers, but there were a few rubber gloves that smelled of formaldahyde. Shaking in disgust, she fought back up and leaned against the can, pressing her cheek against the plastic. Her breathing came harder.
The smell of wood hit her before she realized that he was shaking out the pencil sharpeners on her. They must have been full, they seemed to keep raining down tiny little wood shavings on her hair and face. She spit several out.
"Stop it," she said, but her voice wasn't nearly as loud, as if she was starting to understand just how serious her danger was. "Please just stop this."
More garbage came down. The halls turned into a blur of falling garbage. As he pushed her down each one, dumping trash on her in little spurts, the garbage slowly rose up her legs, up to her knees, up to her waist. At the end of the English hall, he stopped and leaned over the can. Her bra was the type that opened in front, and he unhooked it, letting her breasts spill out, both covered in ink, wood shavings and bits of gum. He lightly touched her nipples, watching them grow hard. She moaned. With his other hand, he picked up a large wad of gum and flattened it, then pressed it firmly againt her left nipple, sticking it there. He had to roll it down the sides to make sure it was set, then did her other breast. Now they both stood at pert attention in bright pink.
"You look fine in garbage," he said. "Like it's your natural state."
She started to cry. He wheeled her down the next hall and into the cafeteria. It was mostly dark, the chairs up on the tables, but she immediately spotted the two big garbage cans in the corner. They weren't as big as hers, but they might fill it anyway. She looked down at the pile around her. When had she started thinking about this big can as her garbage can? Like it was hers, and all this garbage her garbage. It pressed in so close to her, like it was a part of her now. And she felt just as slimy and dirt as all the rest of it.
She looked up just as he lifted one of the cans and set it on the edge of her bigger can. With a grunt, he heaved the bottom up. The little cans had been nothing like this. Wet garbage flooded around her, half-eaten sandwiches, spilled fruit, empty milk containers, soggy lettuce, candy wrappers, halves of candy bars, all filling up past her waist around her ribs. Lollipops and gum stuck in her hair and face. Melted ice cream coated her shoulders, milk dripped down her face. A few soda cans tumbled in last, soaking her hair. She gasped and stiffened. The sudden motion sent the papers under her feet sliding and she slipped down, disappearing into the mess.
Garbage pressed in around her, squeezing her. Her bound ankles kept her from finding any leverage on all the soaked paper and liquid that now covered the bottom of her can. She opened her mouth to scream in panic, and the remains of someone's lunch pushed past her lips, filling her mouth like a sudden gag. When she moved, the garbage moved with her, filling in whatever spaces she left. Gathering her legs up under her, feeling something soak her panties, she pushed her way back to the top, breaking the surface. A few more minutes of fighting got her shoulders clear, then her dirty breasts.
She was just in time to catch the next wave. This was more liquid than solid, she was able to stay upright, but that meant more milk and coke and liquified garbage hitting her. She wanted to scream but that would only mean swallowing something else. Soda cans hit her face hard enough to make her wince. The liquid in her garbage now crept over her thighs. The rest of it covered her breasts, squashing them under a heavy pile of wet crushed cans that were compressed by more food and wrappers. It came up to her throat, she tilted her head back carefully, trying to keep her face out of it all. When it was all done, her garbage came up to her throat.
"Lucky," he said. "A few more inches and you'd be gone."
"Won't you let me go?" she whispered. "Please, I've learned my lesson. Please let me go."
He grinned and leaned on the can, staring at her. "And what was the lesson?"
"I'm garbage." She sniffled and looked away. "I'm garbage."
"Very good." He patted her head, then unwrapped the bag's ends from the top of the can. "And do you know what happens to garbage?"
"It gets taken to the curb and dropped off for the garbage men to collect." He tied the ends around her neck, making first one knot behind her neck, then another in front of it, cinching them both tight enough to keep it secure but loose enough so she could breathe. He didn't want her to pass out, not before the best part.
Out to the curb they went, behind the school on the corner of the campus. The two dumpsters were full and overflowing, meaning she wouldn't fit, but there were plenty of plastic bags scattered on the ground. He wrestled with her can, maneuvering it to the side of the cart and then tipping it over. She tumbled onto the dirt, soaked again as her garbage sloshed over her. She wriggled again but there would be no movement this time. She was practically part of the garbage around her. And that's what the lesson was, wasn't it?
Her bag was righted. He steadied her, then piled some of the bags around her. In her big bag, squished between all of her garbage, she came nearly to his shoulder.
He took a good, long look at her. Her face was a total mess, uninjured but completely covered in dried coke, milk, slimy grease, gum. Her hair was worse, all of that with paper and napkins and lettuce stuck in it. She looked more like the garbage overflowing than the high school varsity volleyball team member.
"Now you're gonna wait here for awhile. Tomorrow evening the garbage men come. Maybe they'll let you go. Maybe they'll take you anyway and compact your ass. And maybe some student will take you home, if he can stand the smell." He smirked. "And if you do survive this, you remember your lesson. I can do this to you again anytime because...because why?" he prodded her.
"Because I'm garbage," she said, exhausted, "and garbage gets taken to the curb."
"Attagirl." He took one of the bags in his cart, a huge one meant for the can, twisted it tight and then stuffed it in her mouth. There was enough to wrap around her head twice and still knot, practically swathing her face in plastic. Her face contorted slightly by her gag, she looked up at him, pleading with her eyes.
"See you around," he said and walked away, pushing his cart before him and whistling. She moaned and lowered her head. It was impossible to move. She didn't even try. She was well concealed by the other bags and the dumpsters. It would be a miracle if anyone noticed her. Would the garbage men really take her? Maybe. It felt comforting to sit here on the curb, like she really belonged. She wiggled her fingers and felt bread and peaches, wiggled her feet and felt them slosh around. Wet things she couldn't identify pressed against her thighs, holding them wide open. Her panties were absolutely soaked. The gum on her nipples made them feel oversensitized, since the rest of her breasts were wet and poked by crushed cans and the tips of pens.
Time dragged. The more she soaked in garbage, the more she felt like it. Her head started to feel odd because it wasn't covered in trash, free to move around as if she was a living garbage bag. She didn't know she had fallen asleep until the sunrise woke her up, and she heard the garbage truck pulling closer. It stopped several times down the block, picking up trashcans just like the janitor had, one at a time. Except this time she'd be the garbage going in. It came closer and closer, one stop at a time, in horrible anticipation.
Finally it stopped in front of her. The first man jumped off the back and came closer. He spotted her and stopped, then sighed and crossed his arms.
"Jesus, it's another one," he said loud enough for his partner to hear.
The door opened and shut, and then a shorter man came into view. He took a look at her and laughed. "Shit, whoever did you over did a thorough job. You tied up in there?"
She nodded once. Thank God, she thought, they noticed me, they'll let me go.
"Shit, I don't wanna do the paperwork for this again," the first one said. "It's the third one this month."
"Well, we can't just leave her there. We'll get in trouble."
"Her head's sticking out. We can't compact her like that, blood'll get everywhere."
"Doesn't look like that bag can hold anymore. Hey, sweetheart, can you move at all?"
She shook her head.
"Can you make any noise?"
Again, she shook her head.
"Tell ya what," the short one said to his partner. "We get everything else, compact it, then toss her in last. Then we just toss everything in the dump. No paperwork, no mess, no fuss. 'Kay?"
"Okay. Yeah, that'll work."
She stared, wide-eyed, as they worked around her, clearing away the smaller bags and then emptying the dumpsters. What? They weren't going to untie her? Let her out? She wriggled and thrashed in her bag, wedging herself in tighter. She felt like she'd been marinating in the trash for so long. She screamed. They only heard a muffled whimper and laughed at her. The truck compacted its load. When the top opened again, they both got a hold of her bag and picked her up, swinging her into the truck. She landed on her back at the top of the pile, but everything was so wet and tight that she slid down and came to rest at the bottom, able to look out at the street.
"You can barely tell she's in there," the short one said. "She blends."
"You can only tell if you look for it," the other one said. He put his hand on her face, brushing her hair back a little. "She might be pretty under all that shit."
"Ain't worth the effort." And with that, they both climbed back into the truck.
Surrounded by garbage, she watched as the school slowly went by, and she happened to see the janitor standing at the corner, a big grin on his face as he waved to her. Unable to move, she could only watch as he receded into the distance as she was taken to the dump.
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