Gromet's PlazaTrashcan Stories

Sarah in the Trash

by Bishopberkley

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© Copyright 2018 - Bishopberkley

Storycodes: Solo-F; M/f; trick; dumpster; strip; push; messy; garbage; stuck; bond; hum; M+/f; truck; collection; landfill; cons/nc; X

Warning! Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death
Note: This story is a rewrite by the same author of "Ryan Takes out the Trash" and posted by me after enjoying reading the other Sarah Stories on his DA Page.

Sarah was in a rush. She'd spent too long putting on her make up as usual  - but she admitted to herself that she was looking pretty fantastic in her crisp white blouse, tight black skirt and high heeled shoes. She didn't want to be late for work.

“Where’s that folder that was on the table?” she asked her nephew, Andrew, who was sitting on the sofa reading a comic. He had been staying with Auntie Sarah over the Easter holidays and his school didn’t start back until the following day. To be honest, she couldn’t wait for him to leave. He was a pretty unruly kid - a pain in the, well, the everywhere to be honest!

“That folder full of scrappy paper? I chucked it in the trash!” he smiled. Sarah nearly fainted.

“BUT THOSE PAPERS WERE IMPORTANT!!!!” she shouted – desperately worrying whether the bin men had arrived yet.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Sarah. I was only trying to be helpful. You should be more careful what you leave lying around!” he said with a wounded expression.

Sarah tried to calm herself down and explained to Andrew that it was very important that they go and find her papers. Right Now. He explained to her that he'd bagged them up with the kitchen trash but he hadn't been able to fit it in the household bin, so he'd taken it out into the alley and put it in a much larger dumpster. So Andrew led Sarah led out into the alley to show her, lifting the lid on a large, chest height, green container that appeared to be about half full of refuse.

"Somewhere in there…" he shrugged. she bit her lip and tried not to go into another rant. He had only tried to be helpful, after all. she asked him nicely if he minded trying to get the bin bag back out again. He wasn't too keen on her suggestion.

“You can’t expect me go in there!” replied Andrew in disbelief. “It's your stuff. You’ll have to do it!”

She supposed he was right. Her paperwork wasn’t going to find itself. she took a deep breath and grabbed the edge of the dumpster.

“Wait a minute,” said Andrew. “What about your clothes? You can’t turn up at work smelling like a dumpster. It’ll be worse than your normal perfume.”

He was right again - but she really didn’t have time to go back indoors and change her clothes and then change again after she’d got the work back. With her hands on her hips she sighed, rolled her eyes and looked at her grinning Nephew. she knew what he was thinking.

“Come on, Sarah.” He said teasingly. “It’s not as if I haven’t seen you in your underwear before!”

He was right yet again. Andrew was certainly no stranger to seeing her in a state of undress. It seemed like his whole stay over the holidays had been a catalogue of pranks or mishaps that had left her exposed in front of the grinning boy. Andrew held his hands out flat and palms upwards, offering to look after her blouse and skirt whilst she went dumpster diving. Reluctantly, she unzipped her tight skirt, wiggled it down over her thighs, stepped out of it and handed it to Andrew. Then she undid and removed her blouse, folded it neatly and placed them on top of the skirt that he was helpfully looking after. When she had finished, Andrew gave her a wolf whistle. Luckily, the alleyway was deserted and there was only her ogling Nephew to see her in her black seamed stockings, and matching pink suspender belt, knickers and bra. she kept her high heeled shoes on as they made it easier to reach up and climb in. she could always give them a wipe afterwards if they got a bit messy - it was just a matter of staying on her feet and keeping the rest of herself clean.

She grabbed the edge of the dumpster, wrinkled her nose at the disgusting smell, but began hauling herself up nonetheless. It was a bit more difficult than she imagined. Sarah could best be described as curvy - rather than athletic. she was soon stuck with the lip of the dumpster pressing into her tummy.

“Don’t just stand there laughing!” she snapped angrily at Andrew, looking back over her shoulder and seeing him carefully place her outfit on the floor. “Give me a hand!” – then she added as an afterthought, “But mind where you put your hands!”

She might as well have said nothing at all, as he placed both hands firmly on her butt and pushed hard. All that happened was that the unyielding plastic pressed further into her soft flesh.

“Andrew, you’re not helping!” she seethed through gritted teeth. As he pushed hard again - squeezing this time and sinking his fingernails into her cheeks.

“Auntie Sarah! It’s not my fault if you’re rubbish at climbing, is it now?” he scolded – giving her a SWAT on the backside that made her yelp – but did nothing else to assist her.

“I need to get my leg over!” she said breathlessly, blushing slightly at her double entendre. She was really starting to regret this. But she needed that folder. Her bothersome Nephew slapped her a couple more times, then she felt Andrew gripping both of her ankles and hoisting upwards.

“No! Not both legs! I’ll go in head firrrrrr……SSSTT!!!!” she landed with an unceremonious SPLAT! Surrounded by a kind of hissing noise – as the pressure of her sliding down amongst the tight black bags caused some of the trapped, fetid air to release, almost making her pass out from the sudden assault on her nostrils. She looked up to see the grinning face of Andrew staring down at her. She wasn't happy but he was, at the very least, providing the boy with some entertainment during his holidays.

“I’m sorry for saying you were rubbish at climbing, Sarah,” he laughed. “I should have just said you were Rubbish. Full stop!”

Sarah had to admit she must have looked pretty funny to any onlooker. Her butt was in contact with the bottom of the dumpster, she could feel the cold plastic against her skin. But the black plastic sacks surrounded her like a kind of  synthetic quicksand – with just her head, shoulders and feet visible amongst the trash. Her high-heeled shoes had obviously pierced and burst some of the bags as brown liquid trickled down the length of one of her stockings that was now splattered with wet tea leaves.  Somehow, a banana skin had deposited itself on top of her head, she groaned, flicked away as much mess as she could and struggled to her feet, bursting more bags in the process and making them belch their contents at her. She lost her footing a couple of times more, sinking beneath the black messy sea and emerging each time, covered in more stinky flotsam and jetsam – all the while Andrew watching and laughing like a hyena.

“Just tell me which bag I should be looking for!” she snapped.

“How should I know?” he shrugged. “Everything just looks like rubbish down there. Including you!”

He was right again. She looked and felt like rubbish. As she randomly ripped the bags apart the dumpster just got fuller as the refuse expanded. Making it more and more difficult to find anything. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. Andrew just teased her for her distress.

“Ahhh! Auntie Sarah’s a Cry-Baby-Garbage-Girl!”

She’d had enough. The experience was no longer worth it. She’d just have to say she lost her paperwork and face some sort of disciplinary action - though she shuddered at the thought of her boss’s weird view on discipline. Sarah reached up and managed to get back into the tummy-pressed-against-the-edge position again – but this time facing out of the dumpster. Leaving the trash behind her. Or so she thought.

“Not so fast, Sarah,” said Andrew. He knew she was dependent on his help again – having got stuck like this on the way in – and he was determined to have as much fun at her expense as he could. She just hadn’t realised quite how evil he had decided to be today.

“I don’t think you belong on this side of the dumpster anymore,” he said in a thoughtful tone – as if he was making some sort of decision. Wide eyed with growing concern, Sarah asked her young Nephew what he meant.

“Well,” he continued, “I chucked your papers away on purpose because I thought it might be fun watching you try to get them back - and believe me, it was. You were rubbish at climbing in; you were rubbish at standing up; you were rubbish at finding anything; you were rubbish at climbing back out; you look like rubbish; you smell like rubbish – YOU ARE RUBBISH!”

She was just staring at him in wide-eyed disbelief. She had no time to resist as he deftly unclasped the bra strap across her back, whipped the flimsy garment from under her, and used it to bind her wrists together behind her back with an expertise beyond his years. He shocked her into dumbfounded silence. Sarah was completely helpless now. Just belly-balancing on the lip of the dumpster. Which direction she went in now was completely up to Andrew.

“So you’re going back where you belong! Back into the trash!” and with that he placed both hands over her unfettered boobs, giving the soft globes a quick squeeze, he used his grip on them to push her backwards with a firm shove.

WHUMP!!! she landed back amongst the refuse – causing a mini explosion of litter to erupt around her and settle again as she flopped into a sitting position. Half an egg shell, with a wet teabag lodged in it, landed with a plop between her boobs. With her helpless hands she just had to leave it nestling there in her cleavage (even without a bra, she was the kind of girl who could still be considered to have a cleavage).

Sarah was still speechless - unable to protest as Andrew said:

“Just shutting the lid while I go fetch something. Don’t want the garbage getting any ideas about being rescued!” and with that, the large plastic lid slammed shut. BONK!!! It caught her on the top of her head, bashing her further down amongst the trash. Everything went black. The  smell in there seemed to get worse. It was getting uncomfortably warm too. She wanted to wipe away the tears that were trickling down her cheeks but her hands were helpless. A few minutes later, the lid opened again and she blinked in the sunlight as she looked up at her grinning Nephew.

"Just cleaning out your fridge, Sarah. Hope you don't mind!" he said gleefully. There was really little point in protesting, as he emptied some smelly cottage cheese onto her head, which slid coldly down her back. This was followed by some pasta salad, which just sat on top of her head in a congealed lump for a moment or too, before sliding down her face and into her cleavage. Then he took a couple of bananas which had gone completely black. He laughed as he mashed them straight into her face, the juice and gloop pressing into her mouth and nose as she coughed and spluttered. Then his head disappeared from view for a moment before he came back up, hefting a plastic bucket.

“I noticed your neighbour had cleaned out his guttering yesterday,” said Andrew cheerfully. “This mixture of rotting wet leaves, stagnant water and bird poo doesn’t seem very nice. But look at these slugs, worms and woodlice – they seem to be enjoying themselves!”

Slowly, teasingly he was beginning to tip the bucket towards her. Sarah shuddered and whimpered and tears rolled down her cheeks as she started to mouth the word “Don’t….”

SPLUDGE!!!!! The heavy slop hit her all at once, driving her head into her shoulders. He must have been waiting for the moment she opened her mouth – as she got quite a gob-full!

PHUTOOOIEE!!! she spat out a dead catarpillar and shook globs of slimy wet horridness out of her hair. Sarah started to scream but it was muffled by the slamming of the lid once again.

“Bye bye, Sarah!” she heard her Nephew mutter as the gunk slid down and lubricated her body so that she descended quickly amongst the remaining full sacks, until only her head was peeping out.

Sarah wasn’t sure how long it was before she heard the tell-tale beeping of the garbage truck as it reversed up the alley – but she was filled with a mixture of relief, fear and shame. The garbage men would rescue her but they were likely to have a good old chuckle at her sorry state. At least her trashy repulsiveness should stop them taking advantage of a helpless voluptuous girl in her underwear – unless they were really twisted.

The lid got lifted once more and, she didn’t know what reaction she was expecting, but the raucous laughter wasn’t a good sign.

“Well lookie here!” said one of the garbage men, peering in and pointing at her head shoulders and bare boobs, poking pathetically up through the bursting sacks, as his workmate approached and started laughing too.

“It’s amazing what some people will throw away these days,” said the other man, before adding, “Someone wasn’t too happy with you, were they Missy?”

She nodded miserably, she didn’t want to get into any explanations, she just whispered in as pathetic, pitiful and helpless a voice as possible.

“Can you help me out please?” she almost fainted when they both shook their heads.

“Sorry, love,” the first man said. “The last time we hauled a girl out of the trash we had to complete four different Health and Safety Incident Forms. We’re not doing that again for anyone.”

“She’s not worth the paperwork, is she?” confirmed the other man, shaking his head. Again she was speechless with wide eyed horror. Sarah must have looked like a deer in the headlights – if that particular deer had been covered in crud and wedged between some bin-bags.

“So I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, little lady. We’re going to pretend we never saw you and we’re going to take you to the landfill with the rest of the trash. Don’t worry, I think we can fit you in there without switching the compactor on…. maybe. Once you’ve been dumped, you can make your way home from there if you manage to struggle your way out. The lads at the tip might be kind enough to hose you down. You’re just not our problem, I’m afraid.”

Sarah was sobbing silently to myself as the truck's mechanism got attached to the dumpster and she slowly started to lift. She heard one of the men say, "It's a pity. She looked quite cute."

"Yeah right. Maybe she did - once!" replied the other.

And then she got tipped noisily and painfully into the back of the truck. It wasn't long before she was firmly wedged in again, but her head just happened to be poking up over the back of the truck. That's when she saw Andrew approaching. she was too dejected to even try and speak by now. He took some chewing gum out of his mouth. she winced as he pressed it into her hair.

"Have fun, Auntie," he said. "The landfill's only about 50 miles away. Getting home might be quite an adventure for you. Whatever happens - I bet your boss is gonna make mincemeat of your fat butt for missing work. Seeing as you’re out for the day, I’m inviting my mates round to your house for a party. I’ll try to make sure they don’t trash the place but I can’t make any promises - they’re a tough crowd."

Then Andrew held up Sarah’s folder of work papers, waving it in front of her face before saying, “You wouldn’t have found it anyway,” he laughed as he began ripping the sheets of paper into squares and scattering them on the cobblestones, “It was hidden behind the sofa cushions the whole time!”

Sarah made a mental note that Andrew was definitely not coming to stay for the holidays again!

Then Andrew slapped the side of the truck and shouted, "Take her away, lads. Take out the trash!" as the truck's engine grumbled to life. She bounced up and down amongst the rest of the rubbish and watched him waving and smiling until her Nephew was just a little dot in the distance.


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