Gromet's PlazaTrashcan Stories

Laying Low

by Polythene WrappedMe

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© Copyright 2020 - Polythene WrappedMe - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-M; M+/m; garbage; trash; bagged; mast; accident; truck; compacted; compactor; death; nc; XXX

As the safe-cracker of the gang, my 4ft height was not a problem. My skills were in opening things, not providing the muscle for The Boss. The Boss had "heavies" for that. The sort of chaps that could break billiard balls, or any other kind of balls, in their large fists. We had a getaway driver whose speciality was driving cars and vans at breakneck speeds, without actually breaking necks. As I said, that was the heavies' job.

Taking a leaf from The Great Train Robbers' book, The Boss decided we would lay low until the heat was off, and the police had decided we were long gone and far away on some hot beach whose country had no extradition so we would be home and free.

The four of us were held up at this farm, way out in the country. Having already faced jail time, our capture had to be avoided AT ALL COSTS, if we were ever to see daylight, and our freedom, ever again. The farm was a sprawling place, with numerous barns, sheds and outbuildings, just a perfect hideaway and home from home. It had one guest accommodation, with an outdoor swimming pool, and we had booked it weeks in advance for months. Planned in advance so as to not arouse suspicion, we were left alone in total privacy.

Meanwhile the farm, which was half arable and half dairy, went on, with their lives pretty much as normal, so if anyone was watching, it just looked like business as usual. The Boss has told the farmer, we were city executives, that badly needed some rest and relaxation, and we were to be left alone. This suited the farmer well too. He was way too busy looking after the farm, and I think he rather objected to having "townies" running around the place. Converting a barn at the back of the field, for guest accommodation was his wife's idea to bring in extra money to save the farm from bankruptcy. Basically, we left them alone, and they did the same for us.

All had gone well at the "bank of free money", and back at the farm, we each squirrelled away our cut of the loot. Of course, one chap was sent out to buy food shopping and groceries. We did not want some kind farmer's wife cooking us dinner, and seeing something she ought not to see.

As the safe-cracker it was also my job to case the joint, for potential trouble, different hiding places in the event of an emergency - the police turning up - and possible exit routes through hedges or over low fences. Our survival there counted on knowing the place like the back of one's own hand, and I briefed the other three on what I had found, but chose to keep the best hideaway for myself, naturally.

There were several buildings nearby, most appeared long-forgotten by the farmer, full of rubbish and old farm equipment just left to rust away. Most appeared to be used for storage. No one ever came here, not during our long stay on the farm.

There was a barn full of large white polythene bags. Each bag was around 6ft deep, and made of thick, industrial strength, smooth and shiny white polythene, and they were printed with logos and words denoting that they had originally held fertiliser for the farmer to use on his crops. But now, the bags had been stuffed rather full of waste plastic. Some holding discarded netwrap from hay bales, but most holding wrinkled up sheets of black polythene that had been used to wrap the farms hay bales - each hay bale having first been bound by netwrap, before being sealed in black polythene sheets.

But whether in disuse, or rarely used, does not mean this barn was never used. Jeff the farmer used it to house his trash, but his wife, Louise, had other plans for the site. She wanted to convert a second barn to holiday accommodation.

From time to time, we heard noisy tractors, hay balers, and combine harvesters going about their business, so when a garbage truck arrived, none of us took much notice. For who - other than trashcan fetish enthusiasts - ever notices a garbage truck? It is nothing unusual. They are common in all towns and cities, and even out here, in the countryside.

I had been in the swimming pool, when the shout went up - a suspected police raid. We all scarpered in all directions. Running this way and that, like animals fleeing a great catastrophe. I had no time to get dressed. I simply ran to my hideaway. The disused barn, full of bagged rubbish. There was one large white polythene bag - that had been used for fertiliser - that I had half emptied for such an emergency. I had left a large amount of discarded black polythene hay bale wrapping in the bottom of the former white polythene fertiliser bag, and an equal amount of discarded black polythene hay bale wrapping next to the bag.

I climbed into the large polythene fertiliser bag, and pulled its sturdy thick white polythene up my naked body, until I was completely inside the bag. Then I grabbed the loose black polythene hay bale wrapping, and stuffed it around my naked body, and a large load on top of my head - so that the white polythene fertiliser bag just looked like it was full of black polythene hay bale wrapping. As the barn had hundreds of such bags, I hoped that no one would find me hiding.

If the police had used tracker dogs, I would have been found. But there was no police. It was just a false alarm. Hiding away, I did not know that, so I remained very still. It was then that I noticed the naughtiness of hiding in the trash, and the smooth, tight enclosure, of the silky polythene bag all around my naked body. I am ashamed to say, I decided to have a good wank, as this turned me on, tremendously.

The other three members of the gang were not concerned about my absence. It worked out very well for them. Now the loot only needed to be divided three ways, not four ways as originally planned. So no one came to find me. However, there was some action that had spooked us. The farmer, under orders from his wife, had decided to clear out the disused barn full of rubbish. The same disused barn that I was now hiding in, disguised as a bag of rubbish!

When I heard the garbage truck reverse towards the barn, I wrongly assumed it was just another large piece of noisy farm machinery. I was reluctant to make myself known anyway. How would I explain hiding in a heavy duty white polythene fertiliser bag, full of black polythene hay bale wrapping, stark naked?! Much better to just lay low, and hope they go away.

The farmer, Jeff, was doing a video for Youtube about farm waste, and was videoing the whole trash collection, complete with commentary!

Jeff had told viewers that the recycle truck had come to collect the waste bags of hay bale wrapping and net wrap, for recycling and processing. But as this part of his filming was away from the barn, I had missed hearing his briefing to camera, on what was to happen next, and the fact the garbage truck unloaded the plastic waste into a shredder!

Jeff and the garbage truck driver, Pete, started loading the bags full of plastic waste from the front of the barn. My own bag being near the back of the barn, stood up against a wall, with dozens of bags between me and Jeff.

I stayed as still as possible, listening. I could just make out Jeff talking to his video camera and Youtube audience, but it was hard to make out the words muffled amongst the mound of black polythene hay bale wrapping above my head.

"Now," said Jeff, "Pete and I will load the truck." That did not sound too bad. A truck to carry me away, maybe I could escape the police? For Jeff omitted to use the word 'garbage' when describing what type of truck it was. For all I knew, it could be just a flat-bed lorry.

Jeff and Pete struggled to move the heavy bags. Jeff's methodology was to grab hold of the open top of each bag, and drag it across the floor of the barn, towards the waiting and hungry garbage truck. Then the two men would tandem lift the heavy bags into the garbage truck hopper. Pete would grab the bottom of each bag, while Jeff kept hold of the open top of the bag. Each bag was so large and heavy, that just two full bags filled the wide hopper of the garbage truck. So on loading every second bag, Pete activated the packer plate, which swept and compacted the plastic waste into the truck.

The garbage truck had been modified by the recycle company to collect such waste. Instead of a normal concave round hopper, this recycle garbage truck had a flat hopper, on which the trash could be loaded. It resembled a normal flat surface, like any other lorry. The packer, too, had been modified for this new loading method. Instead of scooping the trash, it swept it into the truck, much like the actions of a broom. So the waste was just pushed along the flat floor of the truck, before the crushing commenced!

As Pete activated the packer for the first time, at the barn, so Jeff filmed into the hopper. Jeff was amazed at the crushing power of the packer, and he remarked "Wow. I would not want to get caught in there!" Naturally I assumed "getting caught" referred to the other three members of the gang; rather than someone ensnared in the jaws of the garbage truck.

Jeff said, "Wow, it is just gone!" when he saw the empty hopper, ready to receive more heavy bags of trash. I listened as Jeff walked about the barn. I just told myself that I must not get caught. So I lay as motionless and as silent as I could.

As Jeff dragged the heavy bags to the truck, and Pete gave him a hand to load it into the truck, so Jeff would walk back and fetch another bag of trash. Then after the second bag was loaded, Pete would activate the packer again. The whole operation was quite efficient even if Jeff was getting tired.

One by one the heavy bags of trash disappeared inside the hungry garbage truck. Closer and closer Jeff got to me. I still assumed they were just loading the bags into a normal truck, for the loud diesel engine drowned out the noise of the packer working. The soft polythene also being silent as it was squashed ever tighter. Unlike glass bottles, that make a noise as they break, for example.

Jeff's eyes focussed on my bag. By now he had lost count how many bags he had shifted. To him, they all looked the same. Just a 6ft tall thick white polythene bag, with text and logos from the fertiliser company on the outside of each bag, to denote what each bag previously held. But now, they just held waste black polythene wrapping, and a hiding bank robber naked in the buff! If Jeff had glanced inside my bag, he would have seen the black polythene hay bale wrapping laying loosely above my head, giving the illusion, the bag was full of it. But Jeff did not even look. He was too tired to care less.

I felt the white polythene bag, squeeze together, as Jeff grabbed the top of my bag. This was it, I was being taken somewhere. Wherever it was, I just hoped the police would not find out. Jeff pulled the bag to the ground, and I was dragged along the concrete floor of the barn. Luckily for me, the heavy duty white polythene protected me from cuts. That and the black polythene hay bale wrapping that I had used to pad out the trash bag to disguise the fact it contained my naked body inside.

Jeff dragged the bag, next to the hopper of the rear loader recycle garbage truck. Pete grabbed the other end of the bag. The bottom of the trash bag, that was also stuffed with black polythene hay bale wrapping, so neither man realised I was there. They struggled to lift me into the hopper.

Pete complained that Jeff had overfilled the bags, as they were too heavy. But Jeff just replied "Not many more Pete, we are nearly finished!"

I lay bagged inside the hopper, as Jeff went to fetch another bag, and drag it to the truck. Moments later, I felt another bag of polythene waste loaded next to me. That was it. The hopper now had two bags inside. It was ready to crush them, just like all the rest! Whilst Jeff went to get some more bags, Pete activated the packer.

Even now, I could not hear it. The first I knew was the fact the second bag was rammed forcibly into me and before I could scream, the packer squashed me silent in seconds, and held me in its deadly grip.

The two men finished loading the garbage truck, and I was compacted a few more times. After completing the paperwork, Pete drove me back to the depot, and the waiting chute that fed the bags into the shredder.

Meanwhile, Jeff just returned to his duties on the farm. His wife, Louise, would be pleased that he had cleared the second barn. "It only had waste polythene in, anyway." said Louise at supper.

Meanwhile the gang were delighted to find they had my money too.

"Perhaps, he got away in that garbage truck?" one gang member said.

"He would be treated like rubbish, if he did!" replied the Boss.


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