Gromet's PlazaTrashcan Stories


by Lckdnrbbr

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© Copyright 2023 - Lckdnrbbr - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; mc; rope; sex; bagged; enclosure; hood; latex; breathingtube; gag; pumpgag; breathplay; rom; cons; XX

By the 3rd time, I'd realized there was a trend starting… But I suppose I should start at the beginning.

My fetishes had always run on the strange side, still "reddit normal" I guess, but not the sort of thing that the average romance novel was about. Rubber and bondage sure, but with a flair for total enclosure and a bunch of flavors of objectification like forniphilia (that one where you're turned into / treated like furniture, Gord was a mad genius). Way deep down, I had a mild obsession with trash play, which is exactly what it sounds like, being bagged up and tossed aside. I knew it was weird, and while I wasn't against getting messy, I wasn't really into the gross/dangerous stuff, so I didn't really look to make it more than a fantasy and a bit of solo-play here and there.

There were a few other people online with similar kinks, and we found each other and wrote stories, but I'd never met someone else in my real life who shared my particular kinks beyond the usual stuff.

Samantha was the first.

What was strange was that we started off fairly standard. A normal-ish courtship after meeting at a local munch, some light BDSM and some rubber gear, but she wasn't super adventurous and I didn't want to scare her away. She was fun and pretty and we were super compatible, I felt like I was living the dream.

After a few months of dating, it was like a switch flipped.

She'd had a rough few days because her favorite little black cat, “Voidling", had gotten lost, and she'd been out looking or over at my place crying, and I did my best to just be there for her and take care of her. Then out of nowhere, her cat shows back up a bit sick, so she's super happy but has to take care of it. Then her other cat Smokey starts being super weird, getting into everything and hiding in the weirdest places, and running away as well.

When Voidling came back, she was super affectionate. We'd figured it was that she was relieved to have found her way home and for us to take care of her, but it was a huge change in her personality. When Smokey came home (and she did after a few days), it was a similar story. Smokey had always been more approachable, but now she wanted to be all over us, and Void as well. They spent most of their time cuddled up on one of us or together.

Even weirder, after a few weeks, they repeated the cycle. Voidling got all zippy, started crawling into little spaces in cabinets, wedged under the kitty litter bag, and tried to claw open the trash in the garage. We found her in the weirdest places, a sweaty, matted mess. Then Smokey started the same routine, and got out again, only to return two days later looking like they'd lived on the street for a month.

We cleaned them up and got them fed, and they were back to being total cuddle muffins.

Sam got a cold around the time Smokey came back the second time, and I didn't think much of it. I just came over to her place to stay for a while and make her soup, watched movies with her, and kept her company. She spiked a little fever, but nothing serious, and we just hung out.

By the weekend, she was feeling better, but she was acting weird. She kept looking for something and I'd ask what she was after, and she didn't really know. She just felt like she'd misplaced something. That night, she was way more clingy than usual, and it was like she was trying to press herself inside my body while we cuddled.

We had sex and it was good, but she wasn't satisfied. She was sweaty, and had a bit of a crazy look in her eyes, like she was searching for something.

"Sam, you okay?" I asked as I laid in her bed next to her. She had sat up again, unable to sleep and made a huffy sigh.

"I… I don't know. I feel like I'm going crazy. I can't sleep and I just… This is going to be really hard to explain."

"I'm here, what's up?"

"I… I like… Need to be inside something. I don't know, I don't even really know what I'm saying. It's just like my brain has decided that outside is wrong, and I need to be in. But not like a room, like, crushed and squeezed into something tiny and confining and hot and… Babe, could you tie me up? Like really tight, into a tight little ball? I feel like I need to be just totally safe and contained."

"I mean, we just finished, but I'm always up for a bit more fun" I said "and if it'll make you feel better sure. I know sometimes subspace can help calm folks down, they're like 'crush my soul back into my body',” I said, quoting something I'd read in an ADHD meme once.

"Wait, what?" Sam said, like I'd touched a nerve. "Yes. Yes, whatever that means, yes. Like pressed from all sides, crush me back in. My whole body feels like I have restless-leg and my brain is on fire, and I know we just had sex and you probably want to sleep but, could you?"

"Don't have to ask me twice," I said, smiling at her. I was a little worried about her but figured there was no harm in playing along if it might make her feel better.

I got out our ropes, and she stripped down to her bra and panties. "Wrists," I commanded, and she presented her wrists out in front of her, pressed together. I wrapped and bound them expertly, and her demeanor started to change. Her shoulders relaxed, and she started smiling and biting her lip. She was bouncing a bit on the balls of her feet, and she was positively flushed, sweaty and rose cheeked. She looked like a mix of a kid on Christmas and a cat in heat.

I moved behind her and tied a double loop around her neck that couldn't tighten, and then bound her hands up to it, pinning them against her chest, and then wrapped around them, squishing her arms against her boobs. She moaned, and pressed her butt back against me, feeling my rock hard cock under my underwear.

"Do you want…" I started to ask and she immediately interrupted "yesss" and she did a happy little faceplant into the bed, scotching herself forward and presenting her cute butt up in the air towards me, her knees tucked under her.

I pulled her panties off, and then inserted myself into her totally wet pussy, doggy style, as she moaned and grunted more vocally than she ever had before. "Harder," she said, and kept saying, until I was positively being rough with her (and myself) and then came in an explosive series of grunts.

I leaned down on top of her and pulled her sweaty matted hair back over her ear. "Want me to finish you off?" I asked, as I reached my hand under and between her legs.

"No…" she said, seeming almost a little drunk. "No, this feels amazing, just… don't stop, keep tying me. I need it tighter."

I smiled and shook my head, whatever new game this was, it was fun.

I rolled her over and picked the rope back up, tying her ankles and her calves, and then above her knees, and finally pulled her legs up into a ball and tied that to her arm bind, and wrapped all around. I pulled the outer loop tight with a slipknot, and asked "more?"

"Mmm," she moaned, and nodded.

I pulled the rope, and she compressed into a tighter ball, her legs squishing into her legs, arms and breasts.


“Mmmhmm,” she moaned and nodded, her eyes closed.

I smiled and cocked my head at her. She’d never been the type for over the top bondage or fetish play, but tonight she was all appetite. I tried to remember my shibari skills as I wrapped the ropes around her, double stranded around her biceps and chest, and then around her legs, compressing her even further. I didn’t think I could tie her any tighter without hurting her.

“Well, Sam, I don’t think it gets any tighter than that. Wiggle around a bit, feel good?”

Sam opened her eyes a bit and smiled at me, and struggled as much as she could against the ropes. She barely rolled around on the bed.

“Oh yeah, I’m not going anywhere.” She said, smiling and closing her eyes again, luxuriating in the feeling. She bit her lip and made a little convulsion, and then another a few seconds later, like she was having a tiny orgasm, which she might have been.

I stroked her hair as she laid there on my bed, bound and completely helpless. She looked so cute, completely flushed with arousal, and still sweating which gave her a dewey, just out of the shower (or just post coital, more accurately) look.

“Are you good like that for a while?” I asked, almost a whisper “or do you want something else”

“I don’t want to ask…” she said, “you’ve done so much already and this is wonderful.”

“Baby, I’ve got a gorgeous woman bound on my bed and you know I’m kinkier than most. Tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen.”

“Can you…” she asked, as if she was afraid of what she was about to say. “Can you wrap me up in a trash bag and just kinda leave me like this all night? I know it’s weird, I just need to feel trapped and covered and safe. Can you do that?”

I smiled at her, total enclosure was my thing, and I got off on the idea of being sealed up in a rubber suit and made to stay there. I didn’t ever really get to do that with anyone though! She was asking me for it, and she didn’t even know it was one of my secret fetishes.

“Yeah, I think I can make that happen,” I said, and I was sure she could hear the smile in my voice. “You okay here for a minute?” I asked, not wanting to leave her bound without someone nearby if she got uncomfortable.

“I’m good in here for a LONG time,” she said dreamily, convulsing a little again.

I came back a few minutes later with a few items including a large black trash bag, some duct tape, and a black rubber hood with a breathing tube.

“Okay, Sam, you ready to become my trash?” I asked, playing into the scene a bit. I wasn’t sure if it would be a turn on for her, and I got my answer instantly.

“Ohhh, fuck yes… Uhhh…” she said, and her rhythmic convulsion deepened. She seemed to be riding a never-ending edge, almost cumming but never quite, and that definitely sent her close to the mark. It sure seemed like a bit of objectification play was part of this, and I was happy to play the part.

“Okay then, this is it, I’m bagging you up now like the trash that you are, and getting ready to toss you away for the night.”

Sam didn’t really answer, but she was making mewling sounds each breath, and I think she was just totally lost in her own subspace and edging. I pulled the slick plastic up around her and gathered the excess around her neck. I loosely wrapped duct-tape around her neck, being sure to keep the plastic gathered without compressing her neck.

“How’s that trash, feel good?” I asked. Sam was barely coherent, but nodded and smiled as the orgasmic convulsions came with an almost painful looking intensity. “Now you’ve got two options, trash, I can put you aside and leave you like that for a while, or we can bag you all the way up, and put your head in too. I’ve got a hood with a breathing tube gag, you’ll be able to breathe in there, but that’ll be the only contact you have with the…”

“Yessss,” she moaned, “yes, oh god” she said between waves of pleasure. “Please, please… wrap me all the way up and toss me away. But, but… Mmmm…” She moaned one more time before gushing out her final request. “Please just promise you’ll keep me like that until morning. Don’t… Ohh… please don’t let me out until morning.”

I paused for a moment. I knew the spell of subspace and arousal and that a good cum could take Sam right out of her reverie and into “I need out right now” mode, but I didn’t want to spoil her scene.

“Okay trash, if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. Remember, three loud grunts is your safe signal. Three loud grunts and I’ll get you out. Got it? Other than that, you’re mine to keep in as long as I want. You’ve given yourself to me as trash, and now you’re mine to do what I want with, and right now, I’m ready to put you in your rightful place and get some sleep. Now, open wide,” I said, as I moved the gag towards her mouth. She opened eagerly and took it in, and I followed by wrapping the rest of the rubber mask over her head, and zipping it down. Now she was all covered, only the slightest bit of bare skin could be seen where the hood met her neck.

“Now for the little surprise,” I said. “Trash shouldn’t be able to speak” and I gave the gag three good pumps. With each pump, her moans grew more muffled, yet louder and higher pitched. She was electric, and seemed like she would climax at any moment. “All right, I’m wrapping you the rest of the way up” I said, and took the rest of the bag which was gathered around her neck and tied it above her head, sealing her completely in. I let her take a few breaths through the breathing tube of her gag, feeling the air in the little top bubble of her bag suck in and out and get hotter and thinner. Her moans continued and were reaching a fever pitch. Finally, she crested the wave, and came in a series of guttural body wracking grunts and groans. She seemed to go on for a full minute. While she was cumming, I fished out the breathing tube through the side of her bag, and wrapped around it with duct tape, so it wouldn’t fall back inside. She drank in the cool air, still shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm as it came in waves, and made soft “mmm” sounds. I let some of the air out of her inflatable gag.

“Well, that was quite a show. What do you think, Sam, are you satisfied? If you want to get out, I’ll get the towels and shower ready and…

“Mmm mmm,” she said, and I could see the top part of her bag shake clearly left-right-left-right.

“So you want to stay in?” I asked, making sure.

“Mmm hmm,” she grunted over-exaggeratedly and nodded her head clearly up and down.

“All right, you’re a little trash slut now I guess. Time to toss you out…” and with that I lifted her gently off the bed, and placed her on a pile of blankets that were on the floor of my closet. She settled down into them and leaned into the wall. She was seeming to drift off to a sleepy subspace, and seemed to be very happy. “Remember, three grunts,” I said, reminding her of her safe word. I could swear I saw her shake her head no before I turned off the light. “Good night trash, see you in the morning,” I said, closing the closet door a bit and turning off the light. I definitely heard her rhythmic moaning start up again after that. She was already back into it.

For that matter so was I. I laid on the bed and despite having gotten off twice with Sam earlier, I was rock hard, and worked quickly to an epic wank, imagining everything that had happened, realizing I had Sam bound tightly and encased in rubber and plastic in my closet, and then running through what she must be feeling in my mind, imagining everything she was feeling. I came hard into a tissue, tossed it away, and was asleep in seconds.

I awoke to birds chirping and sunlight streaming through my window. I hadn’t meant to be out that long. Holy crap it was 8:30. Sam and I had finished around midnight, so she’d been bound up for over eight hours now. I rolled quickly off the bed and went to the closet where Sam was bound. I could hear her deep breaths rolling in and out of the gag’s tube as the plastic crinkled as her shoulders rose and fell.

“Sam, hey it’s morning. You’ve been in all night. It’s time to get you out of there.”

She didn’t say much, but gave an appreciative “Mmm,” as I undid the trash bag top, and then unzipped the hood and gently plopped the gag out of her mouth. She was absolutely drenched with sweat and saliva, and her skin was rosy from the tight enclosure. I gently toweled off her head, making sure she didn’t get a chill and getting her cleaned up. She was still bound in the plastic and ropes from her neck down.

“How are you doing?” I said as I offered some gatorade from a squirt bottle, which she sucked from greedily for a few moments.

“Oh,” she said, working her jaw and moving her neck around a bit. “That was…” she started, and then opened her eyes and looked at me, smiling. “That was fucking incredible. Next time…”

“Next time?” I asked, laughing but incredulous, “you’re not even all the way out and already planning next time?”

“Next time…” she said again, “more rubber. Oh my god now I get why you’re so into it. I want to be wrapped up all in it for hours. Also, more everything else too. This was a good trial run.”

I smiled and shook my head. “Trial run” indeed. I had a feeling I’d created a monster, and I had no idea how right I was.


Continues in

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