© Copyright 2017 - PolytheneWrappedMe - Used by permission
Storycodes: F+/m; majick; witch; spells; shrink; giantess; food; bowl; peril; discarded; trashcan; buried alive; bagged; wheelie bin; garbage truck; processed; rebagged; mast; cons; X
Chapter 1: A short introduction.
"Well I normally only grant three wishes" said the witch, "But I am intrigued by your kinky desire, so I will allow you more."
I had explained how I wanted to experience garbage disposal, but to live through the whole process.
This meant I needed her help to survive repeated and continual compaction.
I also had to survive in an atmosphere where there was little or no air to breathe.
I also had to go unnoticed, or else risk being found by the authorities and being charged with everything from trespassing to being naked in public.
The witch granted my wish to survive compaction and to live without air, but so that I could go unnoticed, she permitted me to be invisible while naked, change my size, and to be able to transform into inanimate objects.
For this I paid her going rate, plus extra. The way I figured, I had no need of money now !
We both knew this was an one-way journey, but not even I had foreseen the consequences !!
Chapter 2: The sexy thought.
In my normal life, I used to go to a local Italian restaurant, and over the years, I had become quite friendly with the female owner, Michelle, and her three young waitress staff, Natalie, Helen, and Wendy.
Being a friend of Michelle granted me access to the restaurant's kitchen, and it was there I first saw the 1100 litre wheelie bin full of food peelings, food scrapings, and discarded ingredients and cooked food left over by the customers.
Michelle had explained that the council expected every restaurant to keep all trade waste separately sorted for collection.
The food waste, for example, had its very own bin. This was for organic waste only.
I queried this, seeing the thick, industrial strength, black polythene liner hugging the insides of the bin.
"Oh, that is fully biodegradable", said Michelle "The council provide them so we can keep the mess to a minimum. Our chef, Louise, is in charge of bagging the waste once the bin liner is full, and wheeling the bin out for collection at the end of each dinner service. It is collected daily, early next morning."
I had never seen a 1100 litre bin liner before, and as I stood there chatting to Michelle, I could not help let my mind wander to the idea of being one day inside it, along with the food waste, and to be bagged up, and crushed in the garbage truck.
The restaurant also had smaller bins for glass and plastic bottles and aluminium cans and food tins.
So that only waste food ever entered the larger bin.
As I talked with Michelle, so Natalie, Helen and Wendy filed passed me, with piles of dirty plates from the customers. One by one, each girl scraped the plates clean and pushed the food off, and into the bin. Splat in it went !
Next they returned to the restaurant carrying more finished dishes from Chef Louise, while she, herself was busy preparing and cooking the delicious food.
From time to time, Louise also scraped food into the bin, only this was not cooked. It was simply the bits that the customers would never eat.
I had even spent time wandering about outside the restaurant during the early hours of the morning to see the bins being emptied. If I was to do this, I wanted everything to be planned right.
To my delight, the 1100 litre bin was always emptied into a Rotopress garbage truck, the same design as the council used for garden waste.
I heard the heavy 1100 litre bin liner fall inside, and then watch as it disappeared inside the rotating drum, to get squashed with all the other waste.
I had also made enquires with the local council as to where such organic waste ended up.
"Oh it gets turned into fertilizer", replied a helpful council employee, over the telephone.
Chapter 3: Acting out my fantasy.
After seeing the witch, I had returned to the restaurant, naked so that I could remain invisible. Gaining access, whilst remaining unnoticed.
Michelle had told me that there was a large Hen Party that Saturday night, and I intended to join it, not that anyone knew......
The tables had been arranged in the restaurant, and the staff had pushed several together so that the Hen Party could be sat in a large group. The table was laid for 10 customers.
When the staff had finished, I climbed on top of the table, and sat in the middle, shrinking to a few inches tall. Once on a plate, I would shrink further, so as to remain unnoticed.
The restaurant started filling up with rowdy customers, intent on eating well, and drinking well.
I waited and sure enough the Hen Party arrived, one girl at a time. The ten girls chatted, and I just sat there in the middle of the table, hoping to remain unnoticed and watch them eat their food, waiting for my moment to get on a plate after a girl had finished eating, and before one of the waitresses took the plate away.
I watched as they ordered their first course and main course, and sat chatting.
I smiled at the thought that no one knew where I was, or what I was doing.
The girls ate their first course, but the plates were cleared away too efficiently for me to climb aboard safely. I did not wish to fall to my death, if I misjudged that. I was not sure the witch's spell catered for that predicament.
The Hen Party continued, as the girls ate their main courses. Again the plates were cleared quickly, and the girls set about ordering their desserts.
I was getting frustrated. I knew I had to act quickly, or the whole evening might be a complete waste of time.
The desserts arrived, and the girls set about eating their third course, and drinking more wine.
Some of the girls, keen not to add extra pounds, before the wedding, only picked at their desserts to try to limit their calorie intake.
One pretty brunette, decided to eat her apple pie, but to leave her bowl of custard.
I watched, as one by one, they all finished eating.
This was my chance !
I ran over to the bowl of custard, and gently climbed in.
It was still mildly warm, but not scolding.
The girls were too busy talking to notice the slight indentation of an invisible man, only half an inch tall now, and bathed in thick yellow custard. I remained as still as I could.
"Well if you are not going to eat that, do you mind if I have it ?" one girl asked.
"No. You go ahead" replied her friend.
It was only when the bowl of custard was lifted, did I realise they were talking about the custard. The same custard that I was now in !
I wanted to be eaten by a garbage truck, not eaten by a girl, albeit a pretty one, and digested slowly in her stomach acids.
I laid there in fear. I could not move or be discovered. I could not stay either and wait to be eaten alive.
I saw a large dessert spoon get plunged into the custard, and the next moment a large blob of custard was lifted into the air, and towards her ruby red lips. Her mouth opened. The spoon went inside. It came out minus the custard ! Then I saw her swallow. Gulp !
OMG ! I thought, I am next !!
The spoon returned, and I was picked up with the custard.
I could do nothing but watch as her ruby red lips opened and I saw inside her mouth.
The spoon was inserted inside, and her lips closed and the spoon removed, leaving me and the custard inside her mouth.
Her tongue was just about to swallow, when I slid between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, and I was spat out, back onto the spoon, and returned to the bowl.
"Yuck. That custard's lumpy" exclaimed the girl.
"Serves you right" replied another girl.
I had been inside her mouth, and I had only narrowly missed being eaten and digested.
Next the waitresses grabbed the dessert bowls and gathered them up to take to the kitchen.
Wendy carried me into the kitchen, sloped the bowl away from her, over the 1100 litre bin and its thick black polythene liner, and I was unceremoniously pushed in, by the same spoon that I had nearly been eaten from.
I fell. My fall being broken by the soft mound of waste food inside the bin.
I laid on the surface, and was duly covered by more and more food waste.
After I had been there for hours, I saw Louise stand above me, as she gathered the thick black polythene liner closed, and the light was extinguished as it became very dark inside.
Louise pushed down on the waste to seal the liner shut, and the deed was done. All too quickly.
Inside, I was free to masturbate I was concealed. Indeed, I was now just part of the food waste.
I heard Louise wheel the bin out for collection.
I had made it.
Hours later, the dustmen, collected and emptied all the bins. No one knew or cared what, or who, was trapped inside. It was all treated the same.
The 1100 litre bin was upended, and the large black polythene bag was flung out, and into the hopper of the Rotopress garbage truck.
Immediately, I was pulled inside by its rotating drum, and the bag was squeezed as it made its way inside, and past the auger.
Inside the bag, the contents were sloshed this way and that, and then rolled around and around with the other trash bags, until I had been mixed with the restaurant food waste very well.
Next the bag started getting flattened as it was squeezed ever tighter with the rest of the load inside the garbage truck.
No one would ever know, there was a small person inside, going around and around with the food waste.
Eventually the 1100 litre bin liner burst, and I ended up being mixed with a food slurry deep within the truck.
After many hours, the truck arrived at its unloading terminal, and the spinning of the Rotopress reversed direction, and the rear auger opened up, and I was "poured" out the truck onto a conveyor belt. Totally indistinguishable from the rest of the food waste.
The conveyor belt sent the organic waste through a series of shredders. Luckily I saw them coming towards me, and so I was able to shrink some more. I passed through unharmed.
Next I went into a holding pen, to be broken down into compost.
The heat was intense, but I survived somehow.
Being buried alive was no problem for someone who could live without air.
Being able to survive compaction, also came in handy, as I was sent to a bagging line, with the compost, and bagged and sealed in large polythene bags, and sent to a garden centre to be sold.
I had swapped being the contents of one plastic bag, to being the contents of another plastic bag, and I was very happy.
Next a person picked up the bag of compost and I was wheeled on a shopping trolley to be scanned and paid for.
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