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Tales of Green Valley: Picked Up with the Rest of the Trash

by malus_infantia

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© Copyright 2016 - malus_infantia - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; flirt; tease; bagged; disposal; transfer station; conveyer; compactor; crush; mast?; cons/NC; warning; XXX

This is a Tales of Green Valley story, submitted with the permission of Tammy_murfin

Tales of Green Valley
Picked Up - With the Rest of the Trash

The transfer station was quiet for the most part - the conveyor belt shutdown for the day, a pile of bagged garbage strewn at the bottom of the pit. The cute, slender woman in her black dress, dropped the heavy black bag of trash she carried with her upon the ground with some force. The trash inside the shiny black bag moaned loudly - in protest or excitement, Louise could not be sure. Her bare, dirty foot pressed against the garbage bag with the suspiciously human outline…


Not even an hour ago, they had met at Smith’s Bar. He’d come in as she sipped her tea, dressed in a fishnet shirt; short, red mohawk and cherubic, androgynous face. He walked with a solicitous little gait, his jeans clinging tightly to him - a slight thickness in the groin along with a slight crinkle. He shot Louise a shy smile as he waved hello.

“Hey there,” she smiled back.

The young man approached Louise’s table, his smile still shy if a little coy, “How are you today?” his voice came out with a lilt. He seemed to not care about Louise’s somewhat dirty state - her skin smeared with some muck after she had taken a tumble at the landfill.

“Oh - just fine thanks,” a faint chuckle leading her reply, “and yourself?”

“About the same,” the young man said with a shrug.

Louise leaned back a bit, playing with her long, dark hair - grinning, “Oh? so, what are you up to today then?”

He fidgeted in response, booted feet shifting on the floor - that slight crinkle again.  "Not too much, honestly. Taking some time to stroll around, figured I might grab a drink. Um, how about yourself?"

Giggling with a soft shrug she answered, "Sitting back, being bored, the same ol... not sure what to do."

He nodded sympathetically, "Yeah - honestly, there isn't a whole lot to do here. And with having a day off, well - might as well work for all the excitement being off gives." And pursed his lips slightly, which gave way to a small pout.

With a soft chuckle and tilt of her head, she peered at him, "Oh?.... hmmm.... well is there anything I can do to help?"

A smirk and a shrug, "You're company is proving to be a pleasant distraction - perhaps I could join you?" he asked his voice a little sly.

Louise mimicked the motions,  "Feel free, seems like a ghost town here otherwise".

With a nod and a growing smile, he took a seat opposite of Louise. "Yeah - just the folks at the transfer station seem to be around." he paused as he fidgeted in his chair. "So - what brings you to Green Valley?"
Taking a moment to ponder, the question - she finally answered, "Nothing much honestly, most likely curiosity at what used to be a ski resort which is now a.... city of trash”

The young man nodded, mohawk wiggling slight as he leaned his elbow on the table and set his chin is his palm, "Yeah - sorta stumbled here myself... This place is like a weird mix of money and high powered clients, and just garbage."

She merely nodded sharply, and looked at the young man with a smirk,  "Aye, and I must admit, the people who work at that garbage place, don't seem bothered by what goes in....”

With a shake of his head, he chuckled before replying, "I had to sign a release form when I started working at the Summer House... and I've heard some whispered stories." shifting in his chair slightly as he paused, "Basically, if they think you're garbage then... well - that's it!"

Cocking  her head, "heh? really?.... then maybe I should clean myself up... had a tumble... don't want them thinking I'm trash," she laughed jokingly, indicating her own mussed up state - dress stained, skin dirty, feet bare.

The young man chuckled before taking on a more serious tone, "Yeah - that's actually not a bad idea. They don't burst into places that I've seen...but if you end up passed out in a pile - well, it could end badly." Pausing for a few moments, he added quietly, "I've had a few scares myself."

Louise grinned,"Eh? mind telling me the few scares you have had?" she leaned in, her curiosity evident.

He blushed while managing a coquettish and solicitous smile, speaking in a soft tone, "Well - I'm a special asset at the Summer House... basically, if a john or jane wants to fuck and abuse a girly boy like me, I'm the go to. Some of the clients come here specifically because of the liability release and they like the idea of treating someone like trash..." He paused for a moment, tracing a finger along the table before continuing, "well on more than one occasion I'd been dragged out to the curb - and it's only because the Clients time was up with me that someone came looking. There was another time where I was actually tossed into a trash can and collected. Got packed in with the garbage and everything - sprained my wrist something fierce, and bruised my ribs -" he sighed slightly, as he indcated one of his wrists, and then the ribs on his left side  "I made it out though - the bag ruptured, there wasn’t too much garbage in the truck, and so  the next time the driver ran the packer, I tumbled into the hopper. He said I was lucky he didn't just run it again, and let me go."

Louise gave a gulp as the boyish man in front of her finished his story, "I see... that does seem pretty extreme if you ask me, why not find another job? or work at the bar here? Won’t it be much more safer,  instead of having scary situations like that?"

He shrugged faintly in response, "Ms. Summer gave me a place to be when I was at my lowest... and honestly, I love my work... even the scary parts" came his soft reply, a hint of invitation in his voice.

She giggled brightly, "Oh? you enjoy the risky nature of it? or do you secretly want to be pushed in all the way?" her giggle trailing even as she finished the question.

The young man blushed slight, though he couldn’t help but offer a solicitous smile, "Oh... yeah, I mean... I've fantasized about it, certainly... ending like that, and the thrill does make me feel alive. Maybe when I'm less young and pretty, I'll find someone to take out the trash." he finished with a coy wink.

She giggled again and stuck out her tongue, "Who knows maybe with the right attitude, I could take out the trash... if I was asked nicely!" she laughed as she finished.

His blush increased, cheeks burning as he arched his back on hearing her words. "Would you now? Trash doesn't get much of say in what happens to it..." his voice purring as he spoke.

She continued to giggle, curling her dirty toes, "Aye... but I do not see any trash anywhere, normally trash is all bagged up and ‘bare’"

Fidgeting with the hem of his fishnet shirt, he squeaked out, "Bare you say?” After clearing his throat, cheeks still red, he added, “You might find some bare trash in the back alley if you give me a few moments."

Another giggle and a smile, “Hmmmm” she paused for a moment, “sure. I’ll check the back alley after I finish my tea."

And with that, the young man stood up - whatever padding he had under his pants bulged out a bit more - his excitement evident, “I hope you won’t be disappointed” he said in a seductive little voice before leaving Smith’s Bar, a sexy little sway in his hips.

Louise finished up her tea - and a few minutes later, she too left Smith’s bar. She made her way to the back alley where she spied a large black trash bag sitting near the dumpster. It had been left open, unsealed so that whatever garbage was inside could still possible fall out. There was faint movement from the vaguely human shaped bag. “Oh what do we have here?” she asked aloud pushing the bag with her foot, causing the bag to crinkle and rustle. There was a bit of give to the bag, suggesting that there was assorted garbage contained within the fresh, black plastic, along with the piece of trash that moaned as her foot pressed against it.

She smirked as she leaned in - catching a faint glimpse of pale skin as she gathered up the ends of the garbage bag. She swiftly and efficiently tied it closed with a rough knot as she stated aloud, “Should send this over to the garbage station... help them out a bit...". Her words solicited a wriggle and whimpering moan from the trash now securely contained inside. With a grunt she hoisted up the bag - which was surprisingly light, considering just how much garbage was in it - and made her way to the nearby transfer station.


And now she stands at the edge of the pit, foot resting on the bag of trash she had just dropped so unceremoniously onto the concrete floor. The trash hadn’t said anything yet - just moaned and whimpered. Trash doesn’t speak, after all - and so with her dirty foot, she pushes the large black trash bag - causing it to tumble and slide into the pit, and land among the other bags of garbage on the conveyor belt with a plasticky thwomp.

Pausing for a few moments, she watches the bag wriggle and squirm amongst the other garbage. Was it jerking off in there, or was it trying to be free? It still had not said anything to indicate it had changed its mind. Maybe it had - but garbage doesn’t get a say in what happens to it.

Louise just smiles, all efficient seriousness as she moves to the controls, flipping switches and pressing buttons - knowing that, as her hand pauses before the “on” button, this is it. If she carries on the trash will just be... gone.  And with ease she presses that button. The conveyor belt starts up with a loud clunk, carrying the pile of bagged garbage to its fate... the transfer station’s large trash compactor.

The bag of trash wriggles and moves faster and with more urgency now - the black plastic shimmering in the lights of the transfer station as it sinks into the pile of garbage upon which it sits, slowly being carried to its final destination. Is it it spurting cummy trash juice all over itself, or is it trying to defy the inevitable fate of all garbage? It does not matter. She smiles as she continues to watch, hearing the sound of the compactor’s ram retract, watching as it exposes its empty hopper ready to crush up more garbage - no way out for the trash now.

Closer now, the trash moves slowly towards the feeder chute, its struggles truly desperate. She tilts her head, giggling as she watches the trash bag slide down the chute and into the hopper of the compactor - landing among other bags of rubbish, with a few additional bags tumbling around her special bag of garbage - which was completely indistinguishable from any of the other black trash bags, save for the frantic, desperate movements of the garbage trapped inside.

Still giggling, she watches the ram slowly extend - pushing the garbage into the compactor’s waste container. The garbage bags around her bag of trash close in as they are slowly pressed together - concealing and confining its struggles.

With implacable force the mass of garbage presses in and is slowly pushed out of sight. The compactor ram presses into the large steel container with mechanical ease, the rustling of plastic garbage bags heard at first. Then the motor whirrs loudly as the ram suddenly meets resistance. Bags whine and hiss loudly as thousands of tons of pressure are exerted against the pile of worthless bagged up rubbish. And is that a human whine she hears, a moan or cry of agony? She cannot tell, and it lasts for only a moment before there is a series of satisfying crunches and cracks - her giggles becoming louder with each wet noise. The compactor ram pushes harder against the compacted mass of garbage in the container, until it can make no further progress.  Its hydraulics hiss loudly, before the compactor ram retracts, revealing a wall of flattened black trash bags, which betray no movement at all - completely still, as bags of trash should be. The lack of scarlet garbage juice leaking from the pile of compacted trash bags onto the floor of the compactor’s hopper suggest that the disposal solutions trash bags perform the job of keeping trash where it belongs remarkably well.

Louise is still smiling, giggling to herself as she observes. Pressing another few buttons and flipping a few more switches, she shuts the trash compactor and conveyor belt off. As she leaves the transfer station, pleased with herself as she smirks. She never did get the name of her trash - then again, why should she have bothered? It was just another piece of trash to be picked up, put in a trash bag, and disposed of in the trash compactor.


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