Gromet's PlazaTrashcan Stories

The Hypnotist

by Polythene WrappedMe

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© Copyright 2020 - Polythene WrappedMe - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; F/m; hypno; trash; bag; carry; bin; sealed; compacted; death; cons; XX

The Hypnotist

Mom had got a new love in her life. After Dad left, she fell for a scruffy layabout who had no job. His name was Alan, and he claimed to be a hypnotist. Well I had never heard such twaddle in all my life. I did not believe in such rubbish, but he did seem to have a hold over Mom. I blamed the fact he was 20 years her junior, and her head was turned by his silver-tongued charm.

Flattery did seem to get him anything he wanted. Apart from me living at home, the house and all her belongings were just right for a swindle that Mom never saw coming. I was 30 years my mom's junior, and was only in my early 20s. Life had not been too kind, in that I was born vertically challenged, so to speak, being just one foot tall.

Before Alan arrived on the scene, I had the house to myself, and I resented sharing it, sharing my Mom, and the loss of privacy which came with sharing accommodation. In the olden days, before Alan, I used to sneak into my Mom's bedroom, and steal the odd black polythene bag from a cupboard, which had been delivered by the council, for the weekly local trash pick up collection.

I loved climbing inside, and having a good masturbation session, imagining I had been thrown out with the garbage. My trashcan fetism started young. I loved the smooth polythene on my naked skin. I loved the new plastic smell, and I loved the fantasy of being treated like an object. I was not sure whether Mom ever noticed that some of her dustbin liners had gone missing. Sometimes, she used to ask me. Of course, I denied it.

You have heard the saying, that two's company and three's a crowd, well I had to go ! Then during one night of passion, Alan asked Mom about me, and what I liked. Mom had no clue, but said she had suspected that I had squirreled away dustbin liners. So when Alan caught me watching Mom put out the rubbish, he asked me if I liked watching Mom perform this task. Again, I denied it, and told Alan it was none of his business.

It was then that Alan researched trashcan fantasies and discovered Gromet’s Plaza. So Alan had his suspicions about what I liked. "These polythene bags are so soft and silky," he said. 

I told him that he was weird and kinky.

"Are you sure the weird and kinky one is not you ?" Alan asked.

Again, I denied it all.

"Someone so small as you David," he said to me, "could be disposed of with the trash quite easily."

"Is that a threat ?"

"No," he replied, "I just thought I could help you. I think you have got me all wrong." It was then that Alan showed me Gromet's Plaza. "You see you are not alone, if you like this kink, it is more common than you think."

Again I denied everything, and I questioned how he knew of such kinky websites, himself. He made up some lame excuse about doing some 'research' for me. I did not believe him. I did not trust him. Even though he had guessed right the first time.

I even worried that he might have hypnotised me to tell the truth.

Don't be daft. It's all a con, I told myself. There is no such thing as hypnosis. It is merely the power of suggestion, isn't it ?

It was then he confessed to being a magician too. Now I knew it was a con, more than ever. What nonsense. Magic is only slight of hand.

He said to me, "The problem with being inside a garbage truck, would be it could break bones and amputate parts. And the compaction would make it hard to breathe. But what if you could survive the trip, alive and uninjured ?"

This comment piqued my interest. "Go on," I said, "explain yourself."

Alan described how me could cast a spell to make me immune to crushing, and as part of the spell I would not need oxygen. He even transformed a chair into a table using magic, to prove he was telling the truth. I guess he made a believer out of me, in that instant.

He joked that he could hypnotise Mom to see me as a bag of household waste. She would pick me up, and drop me inside a dustbin liner, and carry me out to the dustbin. I would stay inside there for a week, and the following Wednesday - pick up day - I would go for an adventure inside a rear loader garbage truck.

Intrigued, I asked him what he got out of this. He replied that it would give him and Mom a week to themselves to enjoy each other sexually. Yuck, I thought. But I allowed Alan to cast the spell, and my bones and limbs became strong. I could even punch a concrete wall, and it did not hurt my fist. 

Was that real magic or hypnosis, I wonder ?

Alan told me to stand in the hallway motionless, and all Mom would see is a bag of household waste, waiting to be put out ! He told me that Mom would not recognise me at all, and even if I called out to her, she would not hear me.

My Mom was out, and Alan said that he would be going out, if I wanted some "privacy."

Alan then left, and I was left alone in the house. I went and stripped naked, placing my clothes in the laundry bin. Then I went and stood naked, in the hallway, just as Alan had instructed. I grabbed my cock, and started to wank. Just as I came, I heard the key go in the latch, and Mom returned.

Mom spoke out loud, "Oh, who has left this bag of trash in the hallway? It has leaked onto the carpet ! I suppose I will have to clear it up !"

Mom went into her bedroom, and came out with a large black dustbin liner. She grabbed hold of me, and picked me up, inserting me inside the black polythene sack, just like I was a real bag of trash. I slid down inside the dustbin liner, and reached the bottom of the sack. Mom then closed the bag, and I was carried out to the dustbin, and laid down temporarily on the path, before Mom removed the dustbin lid, and lifted me inside, and closed the lid, on top of me.

There I laid for a couple of days, before I was joined with a "second" bin bag full of kitchen waste, and a few days later, by a third. Mom squeezed down on the dustbin liner and tied the top off, sealing me inside. Finally I was placed on the pavement, with the rest of the street's trash, ready for collection. I couldn’t believe it. I had not suffocated inside the dustbin nor the bin liner. The spell had worked!

I laid still as the dustmen came down the road, hurling the many bags into the back of the truck. I laid as motionless as possible, and the dustman just thought I was another bag of household waste. In I went, into the hopper. The scoop lowered and I was swept up with around fifteen large bags, and compacted against the already flattened payload of the previous pick-ups.

I was masturbating hard, as the polythene started to suffocate me, and my legs snapped. It was only later, my Mom wondered why there were air holes drilled into her dustbin. The same air holes that had been carefully made in her dustbin liner, unnoticed by me.

You see, there is no such thing as magic. But hypnosis is real. Some people might believe a chair is a table. Some other people even believe it is safe inside garbage trucks. Now that is real garbage.

22.03.2020

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