© Copyright 2019 - PolytheneWrappedMe - Used by permission
Storycodes: F+/m; majick; transform; M2object; trashbag; trashcan; used; foodwaste; force-feed; crush; pain; hum; cons; X
If I had expected the life of a bin liner to be thrilling, I have to admit it was slow at first.
Upon closing the kitchen bin lid, I was plunged into near total darkness. My white polythene body now sandwiched between the plastic frame of the kitchen bin, and the second liner that lined my insides from my "mouth" to what I suppose were my "feet".
I was totally unable to move. Held fast by the kitchen bin. I was now totally at the mercy of Margy, and her two daughters Krissy and Michele. Not that bin liners generally receive any mercy whatsoever.
This was not just submissive sex play, this was objectification. A submissive slave can chose to obey his mistress, or disobey and get punished. A household object has no such choice ! Its life or death is wholly dependent on its owner. Being an object means, that once your owner has no further use for you, you get taken out and disposed of.
Doing it to a person, would be called murder. Doing it to trash is simply what everyone does.
Being thought of as trash, means you have no rights. No second chances. You accept your fate, like the good piece of trash that you know, deep down in your heart, that you are.
Whilst Margy might, or might not, chose to show me any special treatment as her trash, her daughters knew not of my whereabouts, or what their mom had turned me into. So I could expect at least two members of this house to treat me like a bin liner. Just there to be force-fed their garbage until I was full to bursting.
The kitchen bin lid was opened several times a day. Sometimes only a used tissue was dropped inside, at other times a steaming hot tea bag ! Ouch !
At meal times, lots of food waste, both from food preparation, and leftovers were scraped off dishes and dropped inside me.
I began to see why Michele and Krissy did not like handling the trash, as I began to smell.
Cardboard boxes, with their sharp corners were disposed of too. These scraped my insides, and almost tore holes into the liner that offered some protection from my own body being ripped into two.
The weight increased, and increased. Like I had over-eaten and was now too bloated to move.
I began to yearn to be emptied. "Oh come on, will someone not empty me, please !" I thought.
But the three women had other ideas. Compaction !
As the trash piled up inside me, so it became harder to shut the kitchen bin lid.
The girls answer, was not to take the trash out, as their mom had instructed, but to wait until she had done it herself.
So the girls would simply use their soft hands to force the garbage deeper inside me, by forcing it down, using their own body weight. Owww !
But Krissy knew not what she had done to me. "Yuck !" This bins smells mom." She whinged.
Her mom, Margy, just smiled, as she watched her daughter struggle to crush the trash inside me, as she imagined me getting stretched and "enjoying" being just part of her waste bin.
Then Margy asked Michele to bring down the bins from upstairs. The small waste paper bins in the three bedrooms, and the small bin in the bathroom.
Michele complained that she could not carry four bins downstairs in one go, as it would be unsafe on the stairs. So I heard Margy order Krissy to give her sister a hand.
"Oh no !" I thought, "not more rubbish. Just what I don't need more of. I am already full."
Moments later, Krissy and Michele return, and the four small bins were upended into the larger kitchen bin.
Make-up pads, used lip-sticks, face wipes, tissues, used tampons, used sanitary pads rained down on me.
Had I been human, these would have landed on top of me.
But as I was now a bin liner, these landed inside me.
I was as if the three women were feeding me all their feminine waste to eat.
"Oh God !" Let it stop !" I wanted to shout.
I imagined Margy having a good laugh at me, over this humiliation.
Then I felt Margy pull the bin liner out of the kitchen bin, and my polythene body came out the bin with it.
"Oh no. I am being taken out with the trash !" I wanted to scream.
But Margy saw me come out of the bin, and she pulled me clear.
Then she instructed Krissy to reinsert me, empty, inside the kitchen bin once more, and Michele was to get another liner and line me with it.
I felt Krissy reluctantly but me back inside the kitchen bin. "Oh mom, do I have to ! I don't want to handle a used bin liner."
Her mom laughed and told her daughter to grow up.
So I was returned to my plastic prison.
Then Michele came and lined me with a fresh bin liner.
The bin lid closed. Margy took the inner bin lid out to the family dustbin and dropped it inside.
That could so easily be my fate too.
The kitchen light was switched off.
And the three women went to bed.
Meanwhile I was left to ponder what they would do to me next.
story continues in Part Two