Gromet's PlazaTrashcan Stories

Play Garbage Games, Win Garbage Prizes

by malus_infantia

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© Copyright 2020 - malus_infantia - Used by permission

Storycodes: bagged; death; dumpster; garbage; truck; compacted; cons; nc; XXX

My phone chirps its obnoxious alarm while vibrating on the bedside table. “This is getting old,” I think as I shut it off. I contemplate staying in bed. It would be so easy to just close my eyes and drift back to sleep. I can’t bring myself to do that though because I haven’t decided what I actually want to do.

I shuffle into the kitchen in just my bathrobe, and turn on the coffee. While it brews I pull up the app on my phone that measures your vitals. Your heart rate is slower than normal, so you must be sleeping. I switch to the app that controls the vibrator in your ass and the one pressed to your sex. “If i’m awake, you’re going to be awake,” I murmur - letting the vibrators do their thing for a bit before shutting them off. You may have cum in that short period of time - but I hope the experience just left you surprised and frustrated.

I look at the time. I still have a safe half hour window before I need to get you. I should be getting dressed, but I don’t. Instead, I pour a cup of coffee and make my way to the balcony. It's nice out if a little on the cool side. The air hangs humid and fragrant with the scents of late spring. I take a deep breath...just lovely.

I sip on my coffee, some part of me pleading with me to go inside, get dressed, and retrieve you. Another part of me, urges me to sit and watch the night. So I sit, and watch the night. The moon is waning from full, lighting up the glade behind our end unit townhouse, the woods a bit away casting a lovely shadow in the pale luminescence. It’s a lovely place to live, aside from the dumpster not 8 yards away from our townhouse.

Granted, this townhouse was pretty inexpensive because of it. And, well, you liked the idea of it for obvious reasons. I glance over at the dumpster, I can see into it at this height and angle - the mound of black garbage bags and how they reflect the moonlight.

If I’m going to get you out, I should do it now.

I lean against the railing of the balcony. The more time passes, the easier it is becoming to just stay here. If I wait long enough, the decision to rescue you won’t be mine anymore, and I am feeling pretty okay about that. I liked playing along with all this when we started. I enjoyed the power, you enjoyed the humiliation. It was weird, but kinda hot, seeing you squirm around in the large black trash bag I’d stuffed you in while I either verbally assaulted you, or completely ignored you like the bag of garbage you were pretending to be.

I was even willing to play along as your desires got more extreme. It was still kind of exciting, but soon - trash play was becoming all you wanted to do. Honestly, I deserve more than garbage for a lover and partner. And frankly, I’m sick of waking up at 5:00 in the morning to dig through literal trash to rescue you. I do a lot for you, and these days, you’re doing nothing for me.

I realize I’ve set my jaw as I’m thinking about you, and thinking about us, and just how selfish you’ve become. I exhale, loudly. My coffee has grown a bit cold, so I set it on the table. I pick up my phone and look at the time. The window to safely get you out has passed, I could still do it, at some risk to myself. Maybe I just want to make you sweat.

I check the app for your vitals. Your heart rate is a little elevated. You might be panicking, or you might be masturbating. I wonder how much you actually want what is to come. The garbage truck is coming down our street now. I decide to start the vibrators again, setting it to a program that rises in intensity - lingers for a few seconds, and then reduces in intensity. I’ll let you enjoy this as much as time permits. I switch back to monitoring your vitals.

The garbage truck pulls up to the dumpster, reverses, and straightens as it lowers its arms. I know this is the absolute last moment I could stop this, and I know it would come at the cost of major embarrassment to me and you. I know that if I do nothing, this will be it for the garbage - that you will simply be disposed of.

The arms slide into the slots on the dumpster before slowly lifting it. I’m not killing you, I’m letting you be disposed of. You’re going to be disposed of like garbage because you played a stupid game, and you won a stupid prize. Up, up, up the dumpster goes, and with it your heart rate is climbing. Then the dumpster tilts, and the bagged up contents of the full dumpster tumble into the open maw of the garbage trucks hopper. I can’t identify your bag at all - it looks identical to the others. Then down, down, down the empty dumpster goes.

It takes all of 15 seconds or so - I wonder how long it felt to eternity? Or did it flash by you in an instant. The app still shows your heart racing. Buried under all the weight of the other bags of trash. Are you cumming now? Shooting out your garbage juice to mingle with all the other filth?

With a hiss and thunk, the truck’s compactor starts up. I can see the bags of garbage slowly get pressed into the already compacted garbage. My eyes dart between glancing at the app, and watching you become nothing but a compacted bag of trash. 5 second in, 10 seconds I know you’re still alive in there. The smooth plastic of your bag pressing against your skin, the smell of plastic and garbage the last things you’ll sense.

Then the sound of the compactor becomes louder - its compaction slows as it encounters resistance. Your heart rate drops to zero maybe two seconds after the true crush began. But still the compactor crushes with its inevitable force - I imagine what must be happening to the bag you’re its contents are losing any human shape or resemblance. Another loud thunk - the compactor starts to retract. Some compacted bags of garbage tumble back into the hopper. I wonder if you’re one of them.

As the garbage truck leaves, I feel a weight being lifted from me. I smile to myself as I make my way inside and get back into bed. I stretch my limbs and snuggle into the blankets. By this point, you’re deeply compacted in the pressed garbage in the truck. By the time I wake up, you’ll be in the landfill or incinerator. Every moment, I feel more relieved...more satisfied; and all I had to do to feel this way was nothing.

"You can do nothing you are not told to do. There is no hope for escape from this dream, that was never yours. The very words you speak are its very words and you talk like a traitor under its incessant torture." -Thomas Ligotti


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