Gromet's PlazaTrashcan Stories

Way Out

by Polythene WrappedMe

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© Copyright 2020 - Polythene WrappedMe - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-M; trash; bin; mistake; transported; compacted; death; nc; XX

The scene is a large London railway terminal. Deserted at night, except for the occasional police officer doing his / her rounds on their beat. Of course, when the station is closed, it is also a time for the cleaning staff to tidy up, and clean, ready for the next crowd of passengers the next morning. Many of these staff clear up trash. 

They bag it up in polythene bags, and dump inside large commercial wheelie bins, of the four-wheeled, 1100 litre (242 gallon) variety. They marshall several lines of such bins, into long ‘trains’ and tow these around using motorised electric tractors.

To the casual eye, these essential staff are not even noticed. To the less casual eye, they are noticed, but few onlookers care what they are doing or where they take the bins. For a trashcan fetishist, it might be noticed that they haul the bins to a basement corridor, in which sits a massive trash compactor.

Each bin is then uncoupled from the train and one by one, they are man-handled over to the trash compactor, placed on a lifting platform, upended, and the bagged trash falls into the waiting jaws of the compactor, from which the rubbish has no escape.

Very observant watchers, might notice that when the bins are upended, their hard plastic bodies fully cover the mouth of the trash compactor both length and width-wise. I am sure the designers planned it that way. To stop any trash from getting out. But it also stops the operator from seeing into the compactor's hopper. All the operator sees is the upended bin, in the mouth of the compactor.

Had the operator not been wearing head-phones over his ears, and been listening to the loud beat of heavy rock music, he might have heard the bags of trash fall into the compactor. He might have heard the hiss of the compactor start up, when he pressed the green 'on' button. He might have heard the contents of the hopper get squeezed, popped and broken. But who, other than a trashcan fetishist, listens to such sounds?!

Enter into this scene, a man who has missed his last train home, and who needs somewhere warm and snug on a cold winter's night. All he sees is a deserted station. No one about. No one to ask when the next train tomorrow morning will be. All he wants is to find a way home. Perhaps, just even a way out from all that day's stress and missed train connections. Well you could say, he found a way out. But it was not planned.

The weather had turned even colder, and it had started to rain. My coat was not quite warm enough to keep him dry, so I looked for shelter on the windswept, rain-sodden platform. Then I saw a bin. It was all standing on its own. It was as if God had placed it there. He does provide, but His ways are different from ours.

I thanked Him for at last smiling down upon me. After the day, I had; it was the only act of kindness in a cruel world. Some shelter out of the rain.

I walked over to it. It was locked. So much for a change of luck, I thought. I had found some shelter, only to find I could not get inside it. The rain beat down harder now. I was getting seriously wet.

"Oh come on! Give me a break!" I pleaded. Then I noticed the lock was a simple one to pick. All that was required was a small round key or metal rod, to insert and twist it 90 degrees, to the open position. I got out my door keys and fished around until I found something similar. It proved easier than I thought to open.

At last, some good luck, for a change!

I climbed inside with all the bags of trash, closed the bin lid, and laid down at the bottom of the bin, covering myself with the polythene bags for warmth. But I did not feel comfortable. The wet clothes were stuck to me, and I decided to remove them. Normally, I would never dare do so in a public place, but no one could see inside my bin, and as far as I was concerned there was no one about.

I now lay naked underneath the polythene bags. The soft, smooth polythene, being erotic to the touch. Bored and cold, I decided to masturbate to keep myself warm. Hardly a new excuse, but it seemed apt. Here I was pleasuring myself in a large commercial bin, with all the bagged rubbish. It seemed so sinful. So naughty. Yet so right. I even dreamed some female dominatrix had put me there. Wow. What a potent sexual image! I pumped my cock for all it was worth. No one goes looking in bins for cum, so who would ever discover my secret?

I don't know whether I fell asleep, afterwards as normal, but when I woke, the bin was definitely on the move, with me still inside it! I shouted. But no one heard me. I banged my fists on the inside of the bin. But still no one heard me. Either that, or they were ignoring me deliberately!

I tried to stand up, and open the bin lid, only to find it was now locked again. Only this time I was not trapped outside, but on the inside! The rumbling continued as I was wheeled I knew not where.

The bins came to a stop. They had reached their destination. The trash compactor. And I had reached my destination too. I tried screaming and shouting again. But no one came. I could not understand this. I could hear them. Why could they not hear me?

I tried the bin lid again. It was still locked. I tried hitting the walls of the bin again. Still no one came. Why? I had no clue. This person must either be more deaf than a post or a murderer!

To my horror, I could hear exactly where I was, as each bin was lifted, emptied and the bagged waste compacted.

"OMG! Does no one know that I am in here?!" I screamed with all my might. "I am not trash! Get me out of here! I must find a way out!"

At that point, a way out was given. The bin lifter went under my bin, and I was lifted up in the air. I had not even noticed him unlocking the lid, in all the noise and melee. The bin lid swung open. The polythene bags of waste that had been on top of me, fell into the massive trash compactor, and I fell in on top of the bags.

The operator pressed the green 'on' button, while the commercial bin was still aloft, and above me, blocking my exit and hiding me from his view. Moments later I was pushed inside the container by the compactor ram, and squashed. The next bin was unloaded and compacted into me. Then the next bin, and the one after that. The operator hooked all the bins together and wheeled them away with his tractor unit.

I had found a way out, and one which no one ever saw. Not even me.


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