Whilst out shopping at a local supermarket, I discovered a new trash compactor at the rear of some shops and residential apartments. It was huge. One of those large industrial machines, designed for handling large quantities of waste. Both the compactor, and the container it was attached to, were painted royal blue, and reminded me of trash compactors that I had seen elsewhere on my travels. The container was a large cylindrical shaped box, which almost looked like a large steel coffin.
I was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. But I thought I would never have the courage to try out going inside with the waste. It took nerve, to even go over and have a look! Where it was located, I had no business being there. I was neither a shop owner, nor local resident. What excuse could I use, if I was caught skulking around the machine? Ever aware, that even my presence could be deemed to be an act of trespassing. In a country full of CCTV security cameras, would my behaviour be caught on camera?
How would I find out what type of waste it contained? How would I find out how far the ram got inserted, or whether, at rest, the ram would return to its starting position, and leave the hopper clear, for my "escape"? Did it need a key to operate, and if yes, how would I ever get to see it in use? And how often was the container emptied, and its contents hauled away for their final journey?
So many questions buzzed in my brain. I wanted an adventure, but not death nor the shame of being arrested. Was this fantasy better left just a fantasy? Would I always regret not having the balls to try it, or would I live to regret letting myself be ruled by my cock, and my constant need to find sexual relief?
I suppose all these questions were nothing new. You, dear reader, have already had these same questions, yourself - haven't you? What did you do?
If only there was an anonymous forum where such things could be debated honestly and without shame... But how would I know if people there were safe or just out to get me into trouble, of a fatal kind?
Days passed before I decided to visit this new machine that I had found.
I walked over to it, scanning the buildings, walls and fences for security cameras or curtains that twitched, with some nosey neighbour wondering what I was doing hanging around a waste compactor. To my relief, I found no cameras nor was there anyone about, but it did not stop my heart pounding in my chest, and me hyperventilating slightly in fear of being discovered.
Up close, both the compactor and container looked way larger, than they had appeared from the supermarket car park. I noticed the numerous warning stickers.
"Do not climb." "Do not enter." "Danger!"
It was as if someone had read my mind, or perhaps it was to foretell my future?
I furtively tried to look in the hopper. It was not easy, as I almost had to climb to peer inside. What I saw was an empty hopper, and the ram was retracted, so I could see the opening to the container. That answered some questions, but I needed answers to more.
I got down and pressed what looked like the green 'on' button, but nothing moved. I pressed it again, holding it down, but still nothing happened. Then I noticed a keyhole, and figured I needed a key to operate it.
Then a pretty girl, who had been standing behind me, out of sight, watching me, spoke, and gave me a startle. "Hi can I help you?" she said.
I turned round to see her, and no doubt blushed.
"I saw you trying to climb up and look inside. Have you lost something?" she said.
I stuttered to try to speak, when she walked closer to me.
"Only if you had lost something, why did you try to operate it?" she continued. I could feel my face getting redder and redder. I had been caught by this sexy young lady.
"Oh I did not mean to bombard you with questions." she continued, seeing me squirm under her interrogation, "you must be new here, if you did not know you needed a resident's key to operate it."
"Hi," I replied, finally my brain had worked out the beginning of a lie to tell her. "My name's Dave, I have just moved in."
"Hi Dave," she replied, "I’m Zoe. I'll show you how to operate it."
Then she tossed a large black polythene bag of household rubbish into the hopper, and the bag disappeared out of sight, down into the hopper. Then she inserted her resident's key, and pressed the green 'on' button to activate the compactor's ram. The electric motor whined into life, and then stopped.
Zoe smiled, before continuing her questioning. "I note you still have not answered me," Zoe said with a chuckle.
"Well I was just curious how it worked..." I muttered quietly and sheepishly.
"That's nothing to be ashamed of," Zoe replied, "we all have to learn somehow."
"So is this compactor just for the residents, or the shops too?"
"I don't know. I know we are allowed to use it."
"I don't suppose you know when we are not supposed to use it, like what day it is emptied?"
"Nope. Sorry I don't. You will have to speak to the Maintenance Manager, Bob, I just dump my trash here. I don't care what happens to it!"
I did not want to ask this Bob for a key, or any questions, in case it transpired that I was not a resident, and awkward questions of me would then ensue. I thanked Zoe for her help and kindness, adding that I was pleased to meet her. Before we parted, Zoe looked down and noticed my bulge in my trousers. She smiled, and we said our goodbyes.
I had learnt some things, but not everything I needed. I still did not know how far the ram went inside the container. Nor how frequently, the container was emptied. Nor on what day, was the trash collection. But it was a start. However, what was clear, I would need an accomplice, with a resident's key, if I was to fulfil my fantasy for real.
My next visit happily coincided with another chance meeting with Zoe.
"Hi" said Zoe "I am happy to see you again. I saw Bob, the Maintenance Manager, the other day, and he told me that the container gets emptied every Friday."
"Thanks Zoe. That is very kind of you to remember and ask for me.”
"The only problem is," said Zoe continuing "Bob does not know of a new resident who has moved in here, because I also asked him for a spare key. So who are you really?"
Oh fuck. I had been found out. Why did I start this? Zoe looked at me waiting for an answer. My brain was slow to come up with another lie.
"Only I was disappointed, that you were not a resident, as I was hoping to see you again. I even told my friends Cathy and Mel that a new hunk had moved in," said Zoe, "We are three lonely single girls, you know!"
I decided to tell a half truth. "You are right. I am not a resident. I saw this trash compactor from the supermarket car park over there, and I was nosey to see it closer. I like large machines, and hoped to watch it crush." I confessed, omitting the part where I fancied getting in naked with polythene bags and being crushed with her garbage!
Zoe laughed. "Is that all? That is fairly harmless. If you like, you can climb up there, and watch as I crush this bag of rubbish." I could not believe my luck. I climbed onto the roof of the container. Zoe lobbed her bag of trash inside the hopper, then inserted her resident's key, and activated the green 'on' button.
I saw the ram extend into the hopper and push her bag inside the container. Noting that the ram did not extend inside the container, and at the end of the operating cycle, it returned back to its start position, leaving the hopper open.
I climbed down and gave Zoe a big passionate kiss. "Thank you Zoe."
Zoe could see my trousers bulge again, but said nothing about it.
"You are funny! I live in flat number 8, if you ever need me again." She winked.
This became the start of a passionate relationship. I could not get enough of her, nor keep my hands off her feminine curves. I spent every waking moment thinking of her. But not as she thought. While making love, I found my mind wandering to the trash compactor, and how I longed for Zoe to squash me with her rubbish bagged in shiny black polythene. As I rammed my cock inside her juicy vagina, I imagined being compacted at her hands.
Zoe loved the hot, steamy, passion. She just thought I was very into her. Every so often, she would let me indulge in watching her dispose of her rubbish. For hot and rampant sex, always followed. Whether Zoe ever put two and two together and came up with the answer, four, I had to find out.
One Sunday afternoon, when I knew the container would be fairly empty from its weekly collection on Friday, I was standing on the roof of the compactor, when I decided to let Zoe in on my secret fantasy. She had been giggling about the fact, this ritual of watching her crush her rubbish, was like foreplay, as we always had such fun afterwards. So she caught me unawares, when my guard was down, to reveal something I had never told a living soul.
I mock-teased her back; being half serious, but pretending I was just joking, in case it backfired.
"Yes, it would be a shame if I slipped and fell into the hopper and you ended up just crushing me with your rubbish." I smirked. My cock was visibly hard again.
Zoe did not see the funny side of it at all. "Come down from there. It is dangerous."
Back inside her flat, Zoe reverted back into interrogation mode. "You cannot not be serious!" Zoe said "You sound as if you actually WANT me to crush you in there! Do you have a death wish?"
"The ram only pushes the trash in, it only gets tight when the container is full," I muttered quietly, and ashamed of my confession.
Zoe was speechless for a moment, collecting her own thoughts. "Ewww. How revolting! You want to go inside with everybody's rubbish!" I hung my head in shame, but failed to contradict her conclusion, for it was true. "Well that is not just kinky, that is perverted!" she snarled.
I said nothing. Realising her comments might sound somewhat judgemental, she calmed down, and spoke in her normal voice, now the shock was beginning to sink in. "How long have you had these thoughts?"
I could tell this was probably the end of our relationship! What girl would go out with a weirdo like me? "Since I was young. I like garbage trucks too. But I hoped that I might survive going inside a trash compactor, so long as the container was fairly empty." There. I had confessed everything. I even felt relief, like unburdening a weight off my chest.
Zoe then said the first nice thing during this whole conversation. "I suppose I should thank you for being so honest with me. I know that took a load of guts to confess such a private thing, and I actually admire that level of honesty in a relationship." Then Zoe gave me a hug, as if to comfort me.
I had not bargained for that fact that young ladies chat to their female friends when on a drunk girl's night out. So what was private between Zoe and me, now went public, with Cathy and Mel. "Well that is a new one!" Cathy laughed, "a boyfriend who wants you to crush him in a trash compactor! You do choose some weirdos, Zoe!"
Now Zoe understood, first hand, why you never tell others about trashcan fantasies, not even if they are someone else's!
"I suppose, if you ever wanted to commit the perfect murder, you could dispose of him for good." Mel added.
"Yeah, then maybe get yourself a normal boyfriend," continued Cathy.
"Well at least, I have a boyfriend!" said Zoe, "Unlike you two desperate girls."
"Touchez!" replied Cathy, and the three girls laughed some more.
Zoe continued to think about my fantasy. If this was my ultimate fantasy, would Zoe help me fulfil it?
"So, talking hypothetically" said Zoe to me later, "if I was to help you fulfil your ultimate sexual fantasy, what is in it for me?"
"Whatever you want!" I replied eagerly.
A wicked grin appeared across Zoe's face as she silently pondered her options. She could have whatever she wanted. Hours, days, of receiving oral sex on her lady parts, perhaps? Perhaps, she might even enjoy crushing me and having me at her complete mercy?
"Okay," Zoe agreed, "You have convinced me to help you. It is not as if you can climb inside by yourself, and operate it. You need my help."
I gave her another big kiss. "Ewww," Zoe replied, recoiling from me, "I don't kiss my garbage before I dispose of it! Now, how are you going to keep your clothes clean?"
"I have an 1100 litre commercial black bin liner at home. I could fetch it. I could climb inside, and you could dispose of me, like I was just another bag of your domestic rubbish."
"Yes I could dispose of you. You worthless garbage boy." Zoe looked down at my trousers and noticed my cock bulging again. I left and returned with my massive bin liner.
"Wow. I have never seen one that large." She squealed with delight.
"That is what all the girls say!"
"Silence! Garbage does not talk. From here on in, you only speak when I let you." We walked outside to the trash compactor. My cock so wanted to explode it’s hot and sticky juices. I was being disposed of in a trash compactor! I climbed up onto the compactor.
"Right. Now strip naked and climb inside your black bin liner!" Zoe ordered.
I obeyed her willingly. I handed my clothes back to Zoe for safe keeping and proceeded to bag myself up in the shiny black polythene bin liner. Zoe giggled at the sight of a massive trash bag waiting for her next command.
"Now jump into the hopper, and make sure you lie flat. I don't want to slice you in half with the compactor ram." I complied, with slight trepidation, at the thought I could be sliced in half, and maybe I was getting in too deep.
I could feel the cold metal floor beneath me. This was it. Zoe could not see me inside the hopper, but she guessed correctly that my right hand was wrapped around my cock tightly.
Then Zoe asked "Are you ready, trash? I will permit you one last word."
Zoe inserted her resident's key, and pressed the green 'on' button.
Straight away, I could hear the electric motor spring into life, and then the ram make contact with the top of my head, as I was pushed feet-first, horizontally into the waste container. My feet touched the bags that were inside, and I was pushed inside too.
The compactor ram retracted. I was safe. Zoe decided that I was alright, for she had not heard me scream. Her boyfriend was now inside the trash compactor as her garbage. I masturbated like never before, and I came several times, inside my polythene liner, which stuck to my wet body.
Then I thought that I had not agreed with Zoe how and when I would escape. But I figured she would collect me soon enough when she wanted to receive her "payment" for her end of the bargain.
I laid there for what seemed like a long time. Then I heard voices. Female voices, the loudest was an excited Zoe's voice. "Yes," Zoe told the two other girls, "he is actually inside the rubbish container as we speak!"
"No way!" cried Cathy, "I don't believe you!"
"It is true," said Zoe, trying to sound convincing.
"So are you planning on disposing of him," asked Mel, "and committing the perfect murder, like we discussed?"
Like we discussed?! I thought, as I lay there listening to the conversation. Zoe had failed to tell me that Cathy and Mel knew of our secret.
"Have you brought loads of bags of rubbish?" asked Zoe "I want him to be squashed, good and proper, like the trash he wants to be. Only now, he gets to experience three girls dumping him at once!"
"How lucky, can he get?" chuckled Mel.
"I know," said Cathy, "you do realise, don't you Zoe, that after tonight, you will be a single girl like us two again."
"Yes," replied Zoe, "It is a shame. The sex was good while it lasted. But he is just my rubbish now."
Then I heard a bag of rubbish land in the hopper. OMG! Then I heard another bag, and another bag, and another bag, and another bag, and another bag. Zoe laughed and said "Well he did want the FULL trash experience!"
Then I heard the ram activate, and the girls' rubbish bags were pushed into the hopper and onto me, laying there inside the container. The girls repeated this several times, and space inside the hopper was getting smaller and smaller, as it filled with their rubbish bags. I was masturbating hard, and enjoying myself, but the girls did not seem to stop loading the compactor with yet more bags. How many did they have?
The bags started to get pushed on top of me, as they formed another layer of bags inside the container. I was starting to panic as I was being buried alive. But I kept telling myself, this was just part of Zoe's roleplay. I would have to thank her for getting into this so well, when I get out.
If I get out.
Tighter and tighter it got inside the rubbish container, as the ram kept squeezing the contents tighter. It was becoming difficult to move inside there. Then I heard Zoe say "I almost forgot, this bag contains trash's human clothes."
One final bag landed in the hopper and was pushed into the container too.
"I had better tell Bob that the compactor needs emptying," said Zoe audibly, so I could hear her muffled voice through the mounds of squashed rubbish bags. The next day, the container was detached from the compactor, and I was hauled away.
"You never said what became of your boyfriend, Zoe. Cathy and I don't believe he was really in there," said Mel at their next drinks night out. Zoe never said anything, but just smiled. As Zoe had said, she never cared about her trash once she had dumped it. I should have taken her clue.